#that fixates on rules because he may or may not need to control his magic

[blanceyblance]

Funniest thing about Peri ships is that everyone came to agree that 1. He has horrible taste in clinically insane men and 2. If you actually look closer he is equally or more insane than them, he just hides it better

[eric-the-bmo]

Hello! I originally followed for Yam of Starbound, but if I may ask what are your other ocs like? I see posts and reblogs about them and I am curious to learn more!

Aaaa thank you so much!! ;-;

Because I'm a Nerd, pretty much all of the other OCs that I talk about here are for a ttrpg setting called "The World of Darkness," in which many supernatural creatures secretly exist in a modern world.

Unfortunately I'm pretty bad at summarizing things/figuring out what's important, so I'm just going to ramble/summarize a Lot about my top guys for this- I'm gonna yap about vampires and demons and mages and whatever else, and will try to provide any needed context- So prepare for a lot of words, grab a coffee or something /lh

My main guy is Leo West, my character for an on-going campaign called Blood and Silicon. He was a librarian who, unfortunately, met a charming vampire bartender named Jeremiah and became his ghoul- which is a human bound in servitude to a vampire after drinking some of their addictive blood. That was all unbeknownst to Leo, though, since Jeremiah repeatedly erased the man's memories of anything that could reveal what he was doing with him or that vampires existed- and, yknow, it was kind of under the guise of being in a romantic relationship. These two were dating(?) and hey it was Not a good relationship. Did J reciprocate?? Idk but like.. Dude imagine dating your toxic drug dealer who tends to vanish a lot.

[art by crownedinmarigolds]

Anyway, Leo began to investigate the gaps in his memories (lowkey becoming a conspiracy theorist) and discovered something unknown that resulted in his death- and Jeremiah brought him back as a vampire, for reasons yet to be explained to him. Leo has no memory of the two months that followed his Embrace.

Leo later arrived in San Jose claiming that Jeremiah/his sire sent him there, and has practically been adopted by an older vampire named Harrison, who rules a large district of the city and is coincidentally his great-grandsire. After accidentally revealing to a would-be victim that he was a vampire, Leo is now blood-bound to Harrison as punishment; H is keeping a leash on this man.

Leo's in a coterie with two others, Blake and Percival [played by vtmgremlin and chiss-ticism], who've been tasked to show Leo the ropes of surviving as a vampire. The boys also do general quests and investigations for Harrison, and are currently back in Leo's home city of Chicago to fake this young vampire's death.

He's a very impulsive and easily-fixated individual, as well as being a chronic liar. He has the ability to turn invisible, see things that are supernaturally hidden/invisible, and can sense & slightly resist when others are trying to use vampiric charm magic on him. (He also likes dnd) Leo is fascinated with figuring out his sire's past in order to find a reason for why this has all happened to him.

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Meanwhile, Jeremiah's past is largely unknown, save for the fact he's a descendant of Harrison and a Noddist scholar- aka a vampire who studies The Book of Nod, a book of vampiric scripture that talks about Caine being the first vampire, rules to follow, and signs of the end times. His whereabouts are currently unknown- but Harrison seems to think that Leo knows something about this, and has employed Percival to figure it out...

I'm unsure how to describe his personality, because while I have an idea of one in mind, he's a character technically controlled by the Storyteller of the game. From what I've observed, J seems to be manipulative, dismissive of humans, desperate to keep his goals and past hidden, and def has a drinking issue. It's a whole thing where vampires can acquire the affects of whatever drug humans are using if they drink their blood, so. Yknow. While most of his abilities are a secret/unrevealed, it's well-known that he's pretty good at mind control- it's how he made Leo forget, after all. His assigned ST character song is "Bug Like an Angel" by Mitski. (Is he ok-) [Fun fact! J is the only OC in this list to have a voice claim (and i am ashamed to admit that it's a youtuber called jschlatt)]

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(Leo and Jeremiah's ship/duo name is Lovers Reversed, which of course is its own tag on my blog. Unfortunately my favorite part of their dynamic has to mostly be kept under wraps, since the other players for this game follow me and haven't figured out what happened with these two yet. They suck, I'm obsessed with them, and the song for them assigned by the ST is "I'm Your Man" by Mitski)

[art on the right by sm0kebreaks]

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Ok, now for a character for a yet-to-be-developed campaign called Divine Intervention:

Long story short, Arielle is a former messenger of God who rebelled against Him & His angels with an army of fallen celestials, lead by her sort-of-brother Lucifer. The Fallen eventually lost the War that followed and were tossed into a place known as The Abyss, where each one, completely isolated, suffered and festered into demons from their torment. The walls of the Abyss cracked open in 1999, and Arielle successfully managed to escape 4 years later; Desperate to prevent itself from getting dragged back into the Abyss, it clawed out a human's soul and possessed the body of Cecelia Vadala, a semi-famous talk show host in LA. With Cecelia's memories, Ari was able to anchor itself a bit away from its psychic turmoil and gain some semblance of mental stability.

Arielle has teamed up with two other demons, Wendy and Imrael [owned by auspex and vtmgremlin], in order to find Lucifer and continue the War against Heaven (because what else is there to do?). She aims to get closer to Wendy in order to climb the ranks of demon society, because despite being a Herald she didn't do anything important enough to be noticed during the War, and thus has no current political standing. She views humans as normally not worth her time unless she can get something out of them.

She's charismatic, egotistical, loyal to her allies (hopefully), and is unfortunately sensitive to any failures; Ari's got to be seen as perfect, after all, since it was one of the first angels! She's a former Herald!! A Devil! She's got her pride on the line here! (But also, Heralds don't quite have a use anymore since the war is over, so she's a bit desperate to prove she has worth and can be kind of impulsive because of that. And, of course, due to multiple instances throughout her existence, she just really wants attention.) Despite all of this, I view her as also being silly, and I adore her <3

(Also, side note, she likes women)

Arielle/Cecelia has to keep up her talk show in addition to keeping her demonic nature a secret, lest any monster hunters find the Trio. Her golden eyes might make hiding her true nature a bit difficult though. Due to her torment (which is an actual game stat/mechanic), she is currently unable to enter churches.

Arielle is immune to mind control and has the ability to supernaturally inspire humans, understand all languages, and manipulate fire to a very minor degree- but she'll gain more abilities as her new body gets acclimated to its presence. It can also temporarily leave Cecelia's body to access its Celestial form, but it can't be without a human host for long lest it be dragged back into the Abyss.

I imagine her to have a deeper voice, similar to the lead singer of Rosegarden Funeral Party when she sings. The song in her playlist that probably fits her best is "Remember My Name" by Mitski (so sorry for all the mitski it's merely a coincidence and this is the last you'll see of her in this post-)

Fun fact; Ari likes butterscotch and pigeons :-)

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This next guy, while probably the least developed of the three, is for more of a written story and also requires a bit more context:

In the World of Darkness, there are reality-bending humans known as mages! Mages understand that reality is only the way it is because it is shaped by the general belief of the masses that this is how it "should be"- and due to this understanding of how reality works, mages are able to reshape parts of it around them with their own beliefs and willpower. The Mages of WoD have organized themselves into factions known as Traditions, with each faction having their own philosophical beliefs of how reality/magic works.

Stanley Winchester was originally a Construct/artifical human cloned from a member of a Tradition known as The Technocracy- i'll talk about them later- specifically made to explore a realm past the veil of our reality called the Gauntlet. He ended up going missing during a trip-gone-wrong, and somehow fell out of the Gauntlet and into Las Vegas with no memories of his past.

Stan ended up being brought in by some members of the Cult of Ecstasy, where he stayed for an undetermined amount of time. After an encounter with a dangerous mage who had lost their grip on reality permanently altered his eyes, he decided to leave the Cult and did so with the help of another mage known as Nameless [owned by auspex].

Unlike his Technocratic counterpart, Stanley is a chill person who follows the philosophy of Existentialism, talks a bit like a frat guy, and greatly dislikes the Technocracy. He's also extremely cold to the touch and doesn't age- both results of being a Construct- and developed a bit of an addiction flaw from his time with the Ecstatics.

Mage powers are a bit more fluid than other supernatural's abilities, but I'll try my best here to describe his magic: Stan can sense his immediate surroundings (and sometimes locations he's not even physically present in), detect spacial warps, and read surface-level thoughts and emotions. He can also peek into the Gauntlet, slightly affect small things about it, and of course can "step sideways" into it- quite easily, actually! Unlike other mages, passing into the Gauntlet doesn't cause him any pain ☆ ________

I'm very slowly working on his Technocratic counterpart, but at the moment I don't have anything substantial about him- save for he has a supernatural scar from the Gauntlet, gets nightmares about something, and is dedicated to the Technocracy's belief of applying Order to the universe. I also mainly just refer to him as Winchester in order to differentiate him from Stan.

Like the rest of the Technocracy, Winchester vehemently denies the exist of magic actually being real and views his own magic as a highly-advanced kind of science- all these other so-called "mages" are just Reality Anomalies, simple as that! His theme, at the moment, is "Chaos in The Jungle" by Pim Stones, and I'm curious how he'll develop once I actually start to work on him again.

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And those are the current main ocs I have!!! I also have others of course, and maybe one day i'll rotate those guys more. But aaaa ty for reading!! it was v fun to ramble about them 🫶

[moonbaby26]

Title: A Party and a Spy

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: Story set nearer the Viking Age. You were a Greek sea goddess who crossed paths with the god of mischief. Continuation of previous chapter. Loki is forced to return to Asgard to unwillingly participate in the festivities honoring Odin and Thor’s victories in Alfheim. He ends up drunk and in a piss poor mood that he then wants you to help relieve. Your secret meetings also finally attract an unwanted visitor. Super brief cameos here by Sif, the warriors three, and Thor, as well as Heimdall again.

Warnings: Semi smut possibly, but no real sex this chapter. Sorry to tease, will be some next chapter. Here is just mentions of arousal, grinding through clothing. Mention of masturbation. Also some animal abuse, but a magical animal who will be fine I guess. The princes are just jerks like that.

Chapters: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Taglist: @rosaline-black , @lawfeys , @loveableasshole , @insanitybyanothername , @just-wordsandthoughts , @cringingmemeries

My Masterlist

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You still felt warm, your head just poking out from under the blanket as you stretched a little. Your hand ran out across the mattress after a moment though, contacting nothing to your surprise as you then opened your eyes.

As you quickly sat up, the look on your face must have said far too much as you heard a chuckle from nearby.

“No, goddess, I haven’t left just yet. My, you are expressive though.”

As you turned your head towards the voice, you saw Loki now sitting in one of the two chairs at the small table opposite your side of the bed.

He was still dressed only in a pair of pants you also quickly noted, yourself still so unused to seeing this much of him as your eyes lingered on the lean muscle and pale skin.

“What?” He asked, not missing that stare either, though the sly look in his eyes told you he knew damned well what you were now distracted with. He just wanted you to say it.

“Asgardians really do wear too many clothes, if you are any proper example anyway.” You replied simply though. Why hide so much all the time?

He raised an eyebrow, but was smirking as he taunted a little further. “Oh I can assure you, there is no one in Asgard like me. And you’d prefer this not be reserved just for you then?”

You tried not to look caught off guard. Even if he were only teasing, the implication that he’d still be keeping this type of intimacy for you alone was something that made your stomach flutter slightly.

“Come here.” He said next though, snapping you back to attention, though you still hesitated. Was that a command or a request?

He only rolled his eyes after a moment though. “Oh, don’t waste time trying to be proud now. I do have to leave shortly, it will already be late morning in Asgard by now.” He extended a hand to you. “So come, sit with me.”

You eventually acquiesced, standing from the bed then, though intending just to walk to the other chair. Yet the very moment you were close enough, he only grabbed you by the arm, pulling you down to sit on his lap instead.

He was surprisingly fast and strong when he wished to be, his arms already around your waist as well before you could think to try and stand again.

“There. That wasn’t so hard was it?” He spoke lowly against your ear as you shifted.

But to your surprise he didn’t touch you any further, even though one arm did stay around your waist to keep you steady as his other hand just went back to the table.

“I have a job for you.” He added, then moving his hand oddly as a piece of parchment paper and a writing quill appeared abruptly from thin air. “At least I think it may work. I’m sure the majority of these animals are illiterate. I’m hoping at least the clan chief has some shaman or someone of the sort that understands these runes. It’s the only written language I’ve ever seen in this land.”

But even as he started to write on the paper, your mind was still only fixating on what you’d just seen as you asked abruptly. “How did you do that?”

He seemed focused on whatever symbols he was now putting on the page, but he still answered. “How do I do what? They’re just runes.”

“No, how did you conjure the pen and paper?” Controlling the elements, moving objects by will, or casting illusions was one thing. But forming a very unnatural, man made object from essentially nothing was different than the typical kind of magic you were used to.

Loki paused a moment then, like trying to digest what you’d just said before he glanced back up to look you in the eyes.

“The woman can move the seas themselves and is astonished by a piece of paper?” He mocked incredulously.

Your eyebrows lowered. “Listen, I know good and well I’m no sorceress. That’s why I’m asking. How do you create something like that from nothing?”

He shook his head. “Gods, they really just give magic to anyone these days.”

A joke clearly, as everything you had you had been born with, though learning to control it had taken time. And to be honest, was still an ongoing learning process. But you still wanted an answer as you looked at him pointedly.

He sighed under your gaze. “I really don’t have the time for this. But I know you won’t let it go.” He had continued writing though even as he kept talking. “I didn’t make them, goddess. I brought them with me. You are at least correct in that nearly all instances of magic, nothing can be made without taking of something else. I’m sure when you make those little whirlpools of yours for instance, you’re drawing the latent energy from the water. The currents, the temperature differences, what have you. To truly make something from nothing...well, that would be chaos magic. Which, may or may not even exist depending which of the ancient mages’ tomes you most believe in.”

You could tell he did take pride in his studies and the principles behind them clearly. If he wasn’t already concerned about returning to Asgard, you could probably get a whole lecture on this subject right now. But you couldn’t help but point out again, as you just responded. “Yet you still haven’t really answered my question. If you brought them with you, where were they before?” You glanced down at his pants as if to reaffirm your doubt that anything other than himself had been hidden there as they were relatively tight.

Yet he still smirked at your continued insistence. “On the scale of the things I’m capable of, my dear, that’s just a parlor trick. And if you really care so much, I can teach you at some other time.”

At that, he paused writing again though, placing the quill down momentarily as he then moved his hand again for a long dagger to abruptly be held in his palm. “You see? There are far better uses to this trick.” He flipped the knife just as quickly though, letting the blade’s point stab into the table as the dagger then stood on end.

And as it did so he made sure to look to see your reaction, also asking you, “Do you really just depend on your servants to follow you around at all hours with any weapons you may need?”

Yet you just looked from the dagger, then back to him. Surprised surely, but not actually frightened. “And do you have so many enemies as to always need that at the ready?”

“One never really knows do they?” He answered smoothly, just grasping the dagger’s handle again before it disappeared once more.

It didn’t seem like a threat really. But you felt he still wanted you to know a bit more of what he was capable of. You quieted afterward as he went back to writing for a few more moments.

When he was done, you could tell he glanced over the letter briefly, as if proofreading before he rolled the paper tightly and folded it.

He spoke rather business like then, an odd thing honestly as you still sat so intimately on his lap. “If it wasn’t already obvious, I’d like you to carry this to the village leader while I return to Asgard. I don’t have the time to deal with the mortals right now, and besides, they’re your pets.”

“Excuse me? Have you forgotten whose idea this whole ‘protector’ role was to begin with?”

“Oh, I was willing to let the lot of them be wiped out if you’d chosen not to save them. I’d only need to spare whichever the nicest home was from burning as the marauders moved through, and we still would have ended up with a place to meet regardless.”

The sad thing was, you were actually sure he really meant that too. But he just continued.

“Yet you pitied them, and now here we are. And as the beasts held up their end of the bargain, I agree it’s fair at least to give them some recognition for their work. A pat on the head and a ‘good dog’ essentially, that’s what this letter says. So you see, I’m not wholly ungrateful.”

“A thank you letter?” You asked dryly. Relatively sure it likely didn’t read completely as such.

“Well, essentially. But with a reminder on the rules as well.”

“Rules?”

“Our privacy must be respected. I’ll put a green flame at the end of the trail nearer the village when we’re present. During the night, this place is also solely ours. If during the day there’s no flame, then they can come up and clean and maintenance this tiny wood hutch like good help should.”

“Your staff at your palace must just adore you.” You mused sarcastically. “The mortals are not our slaves, Loki.”

“It’s really an odd thing how you fancy them.” He retorted, though with an air of someone just humoring another person they already thought irreparably deluded. “But I suppose you have nothing else fulfilling to pass the time when I’m in Asgard. Some people like to paint, others like to craft things...you, you have your pets.”

Arrogant god you thought. As if suddenly you had no other purpose outside of him? Surely he saw that insulted look in your eyes as well, because you could see the entertained mirth in his own before he pulled you closer to kiss you suddenly.

And this one was rough again, briefly reminding you of that night in the cave as you felt his hands move down to your hips. His tongue was already in your mouth before you could even consider pulling away.

From last night when he’d only held you, to now seeming so hungry again, the sides of him could change so quickly you were learning.

His hands didn’t move beneath your dress though, even though you thought his fingers may be grabbing you hard enough to bruise as he twisted you to be fully facing him. Straddling him actually with each of your legs now on either side of him as he rested against the back of the chair.

He kept kissing you, and it wasn’t long before you felt that distinct hardness against you even through his pants. As always though, you wore nothing beneath your dress, a matter of practicality really for as often as you were in the water. Who would want any undergarments constantly rubbing and chaffing where you were most sensitive? You liked sheer and loose material in the dresses you wore, so that it moved easily as you swam and dried quickly when you were on land.

But he knew all this by now of course, as he just ground his hips then, that rough seam of his pants then moving between your legs as he drug it back and forth.

He was intentionally trying to work you up. You sensed the trap, but still found your own hands moving across his bare chest soon enough.

Your newfound lack of willpower was really astounding. Finally though, you pulled your head back to break the kiss and warn him. “If you’re just doing this with no intention to actually follow through...”

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have taken it last night.” He retorted though. “I’ve already stayed too long.”

“Why can’t I want both?” You answered, meaning it as well. It wasn’t just sex, nor was it just being in his company. Neither by itself was enough anymore. Each had its own place.

He looked frustrated himself though as you felt him thrust against you reflexively, that bulge in his pants wasted even as it scraped against where you were now becoming wet. “I’m telling you, Odin is back at the palace now. I have to be calculated in the times I come and go. There is some damned ceremony today, likely starting any moment by now for their victories in Alfheim. If I’m not there, they’re going to come looking for me.”

As much as you knew he liked to bend the truth. It wouldn’t make sense for him to deny himself this right now unless it was actually for good reason.

“Well you’re the one who pulled me into your lap and kissed me.” You relented, though your own body now fully flustered and urging you to return to him even as you stood up and stepped away.

“Well you shouldn’t have slept so late.” He grumbled back. Pulling at his pants in some discomfort as he stood as well.

But you watched as his armor manifested then, horned helmet and all as his magic washed across him. What you guessed would now be his attire for the ceremony he’d spoken of. You assumed that clothing and armor had been in whatever void the pen, paper, and dagger had been.

At least with his illusions he could also conceal his arousal if it hadn’t faded on its own by the time he reached the palace though, you thought with some amusement.

Yet, even as he walked for the door, he taunted to you as if sensing your enjoyment of his current predicament. “You’re welcome to get back in the bed you know. Think of me while you self soothe, goddess.”

So crude. But you just fired back before he could close the door. “And is that what you do at night in Asgard? Think of yourself as well to finish things off?” You were trying to mock his evident self importance of course.

Yet he didn’t even miss a beat at the intended insult. “Why be myself when I can just be you? Then I never have to forget how you feel.”

And just to prove that he could, you stared in disbelief as a perfect likeness of yourself then smiled back at you lewdly, thin dress and all before shutting the door unceremoniously.

Gods. That was just unnatural. And you had to sit down at that, arousal now paused at least as your body’s resulting confusion was almost palpable.

———————————

Asgard, not long after

Loki was back to his normal appearance, hurriedly stepping into the small grouping of warriors he’d recognized at once in the rest of the crowd at the palace ceremonial hall.

Sif’s head turned in immediate surprise and annoyance as those golden horns entered her peripheral vision. The irritation was evident even as she tried to keep her voice low with so many others still around them. “And just where have you been!? Thor was looking for you everywhere!”

“I was in the library, did he think to look in the library!?” Loki spat back immediately, knowing that even if his brother had checked there, Thor knew the layout of it so poorly, he could always have claimed to have been in another section.

“Yet why are you breathing so hard, chap? Were you actually running?” Fandral asked as well, also looking Loki over.

“And why pray tell would I have been running?” Loki shot a glare to him next. Could they not mind their own damned business for once?

“Because you were late?” Volstagg offered in that simplistic, yet matter of fact way that was always beyond annoying even on the best day.

“Well I’m here now.” Loki huffed, though not missing the way Hogun was also staring at him critically. “And do you have something to add?” Loki grumbled at him.

But only Sif answered. “Well if you hadn’t been lost in the library,” Her tone made clear how little she believed that excuse, “You’d know that Thor chose you to give the congratulatory speech before-”

“The what?” Loki stared at her, that odd mix of horror and disgust then abruptly clear on his face.

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“So what more can I say of Asgard’s favorite son?” Loki’s public speaking voice boomed richly through the great hall, the throng of happy faces sickening as he smiled right back at them. What fresh Hel was this really?

“Alfheim counts her graces I am sure to have such noble saviors defend her-” By the gods he didn’t even know what Odin and Thor had done there the entire time. He assumed there’d been skull bashing and the normal heroics. But if they’d been working out peace treaties instead the last few weeks, who knew. He’d been looking for hidden portals to Midgard still on the days they’d held the main debriefings.

“And with peace secured in the realms once more, please join me in giving thanks to the noble Allfather and the mighty Thor!” Loki wasn’t normally one for alcohol. Not in comparison to most Asgardians anyway. He thought it dulled the mind too much. But by all the mages in all the realms...he so badly needed it now, as he took a large swig of the strongest Asgard had, before throwing the glass down to shatter it as was custom. “And let the feasts commence!”

The crowd erupted in cheers. And on any other day, that would have been something he obviously would have wanted. But Loki knew that not one voice was for him as he suddenly felt a large hand and arm go around his shoulders, shaking him roughly before his brother’s voice joined the yells, yet right in his ear.

“HUZZAH!” Thor cried, one arm still around Loki as his other lifted Mjolnir triumphantly.

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And it was so many hours later before Loki had finally escaped. Time and time again as he’d tried to excuse himself from the endless barrage of drinks and food, it was as if his brother had somehow sensed it.

Then there would be Thor again, telling him any one of those same stories over and over as he’d somehow corralled Loki back into the feast room. If he’d had to hear one more time how with one hand forced behind his back, and Mjolnir still in mid air, that Thor had kicked one of the enemies’ bombs right back into their own garrison, taking out an entire enemy troop as more of their stored artillery then exploded...Loki may have finally vomited.

As it was now, he wasn’t exactly walking a straight line either though. Just carrying his own helmet in one hand, his head already throbbing as he made his way slowly through the corridors. His other arm reaching out occasionally, grazing the walls for balance.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d drank so much. Well, more like been forced to drink so much, just to try and maintain his sanity in what was essentially just another gathering of his brother’s sycophants.

Honestly did Thor even see it? Did he really think all those hanger-ons were truly his friends? Perhaps there was some argument for Sif and the warriors three. As thick headed as they all were, they were about cut from the same cloth. And that was not a compliment.

But all the others? It’d be almost pitiable really if it weren’t so damned annoying. Yet maybe it was the alcohol there as well, making Loki linger on so many of these feelings again.

By the time he reached the entrance to his quarters, he was frowning as he pushed the heavy doors open. He still made sure that they shut fully behind him though as he waved his hand to lock them doubly with a spell.

It was not without precedent that in some true late night madness, either Thor, or Thor, Fandral, and Volstagg may still force entry to try and get him to accompany them on some additional drunken adventure while they were still riding so high on their accomplishments.

“Idiots,” Loki grumbled to no one though. Still stuck in that sour mood as he moved across the dark room, losing clothes as he did so before finally ending up in his elaborate bed. The silken sheets were then the only thing against his skin as he laid there in silence, though the room still feeling like it was moving slightly in his lingering vertigo.

But he just wanted to sleep. That and to will this headache and the thoughts that worsened it away.

But instead he only laid there. His drunken thoughts churning louder and louder as the minutes passed, alone in this extravagant, luxurious, and also very empty bed.

Scattered across the palace now, he could only imagine all the couplings likely occurring. Not necessarily in the full sense of the word. But he knew how these types of festivities normally ended.

Thor was likely in an archway somewhere with Sif, pawing at each other with all the finesse of a pair of schoolchildren. Fandral and Hogun would still be at a table, Fandral now showing off his sword to a couple maidens simultaneously with only thinly veiled euphemisms of how it compared to the hidden equivalent. And Volstagg would have his actual wife and children there, somehow still not bored of them yet as they all laughed together.

And that’s what it really was, laughable.

Loki rolled onto his side, glaring towards the balcony and the stars dotting the black sky beyond it. No, he didn’t need any of that farce of companionship. Not just for the sake of it anyway like all the others. He took what he wanted, when he wanted surely. Pleasure was one thing after all, but it didn’t control him.

You didn’t control him actually. Because no one controlled the god of mischief.

But the longer he lay there in silence, the more he could then imagine your fingers soon running through his hair, or the warmth of your lap to lay his aching head in. He’d had bad days before, many times retreating to this very room alone. But he didn’t have to be alone tonight. He didn’t have to be alone at all anymore did he?

“Goddamnit.” He finally hissed. It was foolhardy, dangerous even after just returning from Midgard already once today. But he wasn’t going to sleep tonight otherwise. Not until he had what he really wanted.

——————————

Loki certainly wasn’t going to be walking all the way to the bifrost gate. Not at this hour, and not in this condition. So he’d taken a form that at least no one would have second guessed if they’d just happened to look up as he’d passed quickly overhead.

One of Father’s ravens, or the rats with wings as he preferred to call them. And as he’d landed near Heimdall, then regaining his normal form, the older god just looked down at him, unimpressed.

“She’s returned to the ocean. She already sleeps.” Heimdall spoke unprompted.

Yet Loki’s eyebrows rose mockingly, even if his words took a little more effort right now. “Oh? Making a habit of watching her…even without me then? That’s a bit perverse.”

But the gatekeeper’s expression hardly changed at the insult, still so difficult to goad. “I saw you coming, and your questions to her whereabouts are becoming predictable.”

It was true. Loki had already come here several nights, yes. Mostly to check whether the mortals had finished that structure or not. And it’d finally been a pleasant reward just the other night when Heimdall had confirmed it already done and you there waiting.

“I don’t care where she is.” Loki retorted though. “I’m going to Midgard. Open the gate.”

“You are inebriated.” Heimdall warned.

“And you have a severely itritating penchant for stating the obvious…open the gate.” He commanded more forcefully.

“Anywhere in Midgard particular?” Heimdall answered.

Loki paused though, hearing that slightest change in the guardian’s normal stoic tone with those last words. “Are you…attempting to make a joke?”

“I did not wish to assume or state the obvious again as you said. And you also say you do not care where she is. So do you not care where you should land tonight then?”

He was! He was mocking him. Loki growled, pointing his finger for emphasis. “Now listen here…it has been a god awful, long day. Quit trying to dissuade me. Send me to the village, gatekeeper!”

“Any village?”

Gods. “My village, her village, whatever you want to call it. But do it or I’ll use the damned sword myself!”

With one last cheerless look down at Loki, Heimdall turned the sword then, opening the gate even as he warned a final time. “Do not fall from the bifrost, Prince. The universe is vast and does not suffer the careless well. Do remember as well that all things done have consequences in the end.”

But Loki had no time to search for deeper meaning in the words, just ruffling more as he walked towards the light. “Is that a threat?”

“Only a truth and a caution.” Heimdall again answered, just before the other disappeared back across the bridge.

———————————

And as the light left him again, Loki was once more in that dark forest. Yet, the ground far lighter colored than normal as to a little of his surprise, his boots now found fresh snow. Winter had finally arrived to this part of Midgard apparently.

He cursed, realizing it would have been far smarter to have told Heimdall to deposit him directly onto the beach this time as he’d now had to navigate back down the hillside and to the trail that led between the cliff face.

It had started snowing again as well as he walked, the large flakes sticking in his black hair by the time he reached the ocean’s edge. He should have told you just to stay at the cabin this morning. But he didn’t expect to be standing here again so soon either.

Loki didn’t care about the water at this point though, the waves rushing up around his feet and over the top of his boots as he trudged forward to call out. “Hear me, sea beasts! Hear me and bring your mistress to me!”

And it didn’t take long of course before he saw two feminine looking torsos rise just where the waves were breaking in the distance. Not quite human, but expressive enough that he could see the skepticism in their body language.

“She’s asleep!” One called back over the waves.

“Then go and wake her!” He only hissed back as if scolding an insubordinate child. Why did everyone feel the need to test him tonight?

But the two nymphs just looked at one another. The other then speaking. “What is so important? Are you claiming injury again?”

He scoffed at the jab, voice easily sliding into its darker range then, even in his continued drunken state. He did not have time for this. “Do not forget your place, water sprite.”

And as he made a move as if to step further into the water, he was pleased to see them both shrink back at that. When they disappeared not long after, he knew all he now had to do was wait.

—————————

You didn’t fully know what to expect. Why was he back so soon? Not that you should complain, but he’d made such a point about having to return to Asgard this morning, and he’d never come back so quickly before. Even though it was now dead of night.

The nymphs also said he’d been acting strangely, even a bit ruder than normal. They insisted you bring your spear, and so you had as you broke the surface only to find him sitting at the water’s edge. Though not even far enough onto the beach to stay dry as the water now ran around him and then pulled back with each successive wave. His pants and cloak were clearly soaked, snow also dotting all over him to your surprise.

“Loki?” You asked, concerned but cautious. Normally the rare sight of snow would have distracted you in its own right had you not been so focused on him. The north was still unique to you for all its differences.

“The cold doesn’t bother me either.” He said abruptly, seeing that worry in your eyes. But he didn’t stand out of the water. “You really should reprimand your servants…”

“It’s not quite that kind of a relationship.” You replied, though not defensively as you still tried to realize what was wrong with him. “Are you alright?”

“No.” He said simply.

If it was just another trick, it was a good one. But you felt you had no real choice but to behave as if he was sincere. You only laid your spear down in the water as you then moved to sit down beside him.

He looked over at you as you did, and you could see how tired he looked even in the darkness. So close to him then, that was finally when you smelled the scent of alcohol, impressively strong even over the salt smell of the ocean.

He was drunk.

“Loki…” You said again, unsure at all what would have driven him to this kind of excess. “Do you want me to help you to the cabin?”

He leaned closer though, as if to either kiss you or lay his head against yours. He did nuzzle your face slightly though as he whispered in your ear. “I want him to get closer first.” Before you could react though, he’d then grabbed your chin to keep you from looking away from him. “He can’t hear us over the noise of the sea…but don’t look away.”

And he did kiss you then, that heady taste of the alcohol almost as distracting as the nonsensical words. His hand was moving up your thigh as well as his other moved around to your back. It all seemed like only the beginnings of foreplay before just as suddenly, he then pushed you down beneath him. His hand that had been on your thigh pulled back simultaneously to throw a dagger violently out into the darkness.

You heard a distinct sound of a hit, a creature screech, and then chaotic flapping in the sand and snow somewhere near the cliff’s base.

Loki was now laying on top of you, your back still pressed into the wet sand as the water rushed back up around you both. He glanced back down at you then, ignoring the confusion in your eyes as he kissed you roughly several times more before finally pulling back again. “We’ll have to get back to that tomorrow…” He all but purred, mood shifting suddenly to satisfaction as he stood once more and offered you his hand.

Utterly baffled, you still took it, letting him help you up before he let go of you to walk off towards the distressed sounds you still heard near the cliff. You only hung back long enough to grab your spear before hurrying to follow him.

You didn’t know what kind of beast to expect from all the noise, and only found yourself more surprised as a pitiable looking black bird finally came into view. It flapped even harder upon seeing Loki, but with one wing clearly mangled and blood spattering the snow and sand around it.

“Oh, you over dramatic twat.” Loki fussed, snatching the hapless creature up with little fanfare as his other hand reclaimed his now bloody dagger, disappearing it again with his magic. “And which one are you?” He asked, holding it roughly near his face as it now continually tried to bite him in defiance.

You didn’t know what he was looking for, and you were about to say something about how harshly he was holding the poor animal before Loki smirked in recognition.

“Well…Muninn, you little vermin. You saw me leave the palace didn’t you? Did you really think I was your other half? Couldn’t leave well enough alone could you?”

What? So this was one of Odin’s ravens? But, Loki had just stabbed it! Was this not treason? Treason that you were now a party to? You had so many questions as your inner panic began to grow.

But Loki only kept smiling, talking with condescension to the injured bird. “Yet, for you to be here so quickly, then you’ve found my door for me. There’s a rift between Asgard and Midgard somewhere nearby…and for that you get to keep your other wing tonight, you little spy.”

—————————

As you passed back up the trail to the cabin together, you saw Loki had indeed kept his word about signaling to the mortals when you were here. A green flame floated, ethereal in midair at the edge of the tree-line.

It had a haunting look to it, but you said nothing, still so focused on Loki’s rough handling of the injured raven. And by the time you’d entered the woods, you could no longer contain yourself.

“Please don’t hold him by the chest like that. It makes it too hard for them to breathe. You’re going to suffocate him!”

At your outburst, Loki seemed to have a genuine moment of surprise, looking over at you before his normal superior expression returned. “Just because you can become a bird….doesn’t mean you should give a damn about this one. Don’t waste your time on kindness. Despite your bleeding heart, his loyalty lies only with the Allfather. He’ll snitch you out regardless.”

“But, he has lost a lot of blood. We can’t let him die, Loki…” You still kept on, worried the alcohol had truly made him lose all sense of judgement.

Again he just gave you the oddest look before outright laughing though. He shook the bird a little, making it squawk again, before continuing. “This rat and his brother are imbued with Odin’s magic. They cannot perish so easily as long as Odin still lives.”

Yet, that was still not comforting to you in the slightest. In what possible way could torturing a favored pet of the Allfather end positively for the two of you?

But Loki didn’t miss the way you still stared with disapproval, just rolling his eyes as you finally made it to the cabin. “Do you know how long we’ve dealt with these little pests? When Thor got his first slingshot as a boy, what do you think he practiced it on? When I learned my first spells, what did I test them on? There is nothing new to this…”

“That’s awful.” You grumbled, though watching as Loki did this odd movement with his shoulders, his magic shifting over him so that he was suddenly dry again.

As he walked inside, you had to shake the snow off yourself the old fashioned way. Your dress and hair still damp from that and the ocean combined as you followed him inside, leaning your spear against the wall before closing the door. “So you could do that the whole time,” You commented as to his drying trick, though not really surprised by anything else right now.

He smirked a little, knowing what you were thinking. With a wave of his hand a couple of the candles also lit. “Oh, I didn’t do it that night in the cave. You were supposed to take pity and ask me to take off some of my wet clothes…of course they ended up off anyway didn’t they?”

You crossed your arms, just frowning as he unceremoniously opened the chest on the floor next, tossing the injured Muninn into it before slamming it back closed.

“I’ll deal with you in the morning,” Loki threatened in response to the resulting angry squawk, giving the chest a light kick before the noise inside silenced.

When he turned to look at you again, he only offered a dark smile. Though still looking tired as he started to remove his clothes.

You tried to keep your disapproving look strong even as you realized he was using no magic at all, removing his vestments piece by piece as if to taunt you into further watching.

But looking away would have just goaded him too wouldn’t it? Letting him know the sight of his body still did things to you. You couldn’t win either way as all of his clothes finally laid piled on the floor, no neatness this time as he went lay nude in the bed.

You stood there a further moment, really not knowing what to do. He didn’t deserve to be rewarded right now in your mind. But were you just supposed to walk right back out the door? You didn’t have the willpower for that either, not anymore.

He watched you lazily too, waiting. His voice was quieter now though as he did speak again. “If I’d wanted to sleep alone…I would have just stayed in Asgard.”

Your shoulders lowered a little at the softer words, but you didn’t know how much you really believed him. You finally did approach the bed however, removing your wet dress, and not missing the way his eyes moved across your body before you climbed in under the blanket beside him.

But you could also tell he was in no condition for love making, even as you felt his hand encircle one of your wrists, himself then pulling your hand up so your fingers fell into his hair.

He gave you an imploring look, making his intention clear even if unexpected. It was so strange, but you complied, starting to rub your fingers through his hair and along his scalp gently.

The way he clearly relaxed into the touch reminded you so much of a placated animal truly. And he even closed his eyes as you just continued stroking, letting the black hair work repeatedly between your fingers.

To drunkenly cross the vast breadth of space just for this minor affection, also risking exposure by his Father’s informants, was it telling you that he really was so reckless after all? Or…was this becoming a real need for him?

Were you becoming a need in his life?

You felt him line up his body with yours, flesh to flesh as he got further comfortable.

“Thank you.” You heard him say at last. Surprising you enough that you could find nothing to say in return.

You just kept on with your soft touches though, comforting the troublesome prince all the way until he finally fell asleep in your arms.

——————————

(Continued in next chapter here)

[luffyrose]

Hello! Can i learn more about your god au? I find it really interesting and would love to hear more about it!

I saw this while I was heading to school so I thought about this au the whole day so far, so here’s some more info!!!

More characters and what they are first! (The possibly some design ideas and/or more world info!)

First two are the ones that @clovley helped me figure out!

Eret, a human King that Dream is currently fixated on watching. He is very kind and his kingdom is prosperous thanks to how he runs things and the blessing of a god.

Niki is the God of Love! She represents and can control all forms of love. She generally just chooses to give people a nudge in the right direction instead of directly involving herself. She also gets easily attached to people so she doesn’t interact with humans since their lives are so short to them.

Puffy is the God of Beasts! I was struggling with Niki being this then I realized her and Puffy’s characters were canonically dating and I could have the two of them work closely together since I imagine Niki would want a friend instead of living alone.

I may have their characters be dating but I’m unsure. It would only be their characters though. We don’t ship real people as that can make them uncomfy and it’s just kind of weird if you aren’t like their super close friend. And I only say that cuz me and my friends from school are comfortable with us saying they’d look cute with blah.

Back to characters!

Fundy is a spirit! And a quick thing about spirits, they were humans in a past life. So if I say spirit I mean they were reincarnated or revived into a magic being. If I say monster/creature, humanoid or not, they were born like that and not a human before.

More about Fundy though. He didn’t know Wilbur in his human life but Wilbur found him wandering after he passed and revived him with the help of a mermaid. Sally! The two raised him as best they could but Sally had to leave and Wilbur was left with Fundy. Who is a Kitsune by the way.

Little story info: Fundy currently lives in a shrine in a city not too far from the ocean. He is worshiped by the people that live there and seen as a messenger of the sea god. The humans don’t know they are father and son though.

Another little thing. Spirits are common to see around, it’s just uncommon to interact with them much as they are technically deceased. It is also rare to worship them but not impossible to happen.

Schlatt! Now you’re probably wondering what I have for him and I actually really like what I came up with! He is the God of Corruption! The thing is, he wasn’t corrupt, he managed the balance of good and bad by taking corruption and moving it to other places. He can create and destroy corruption but usually chose not to.

Now here’s where his story shifts though. He was exiled and disowned by the elder gods, aka the assholes that don’t actually have characters connected XD. But Schlatt was exiled and changed. I won’t say how as that is actually a big plot point and one of the only plot points I have an idea for XD

Quackity was created by Schlatt with the help of Ranboo with the purpose to help Schlatt maintain the corruption. He worked well until Schlatt was exiled and hated. Then he had nowhere to go so he went to the humans, blending in fairly well.

Karl is a human that both Sapnap and Quackity have taken an interest in. I have no idea why yet, but he lives in the kingdom Eret rules. He is a simple herbologist that runs his practice at cheaper prices for those who can’t afford expensive medicines.

Ranboo is the God of the Dead/Spirits. He generally just watches what happens and travels around to make sure there is no outburst of spirits as too many in one area can create an unwanted imbalance of power among them. Spirits have the ability to consume others and take their power, hence why he must watch them.

He does enjoy giving spirits a chance to make friends not only among themselves but gods. He himself is looked over as a god most times but he doesn’t mind because he befriends the nicer gods.

Sam is the God of Justice. He stays neutral for the most part but sympathizes with those that are unjustly accused or treated. He has stepped in very few times but each time he has those that were wronged got what they deserved while those that wronged them were punished.

Antfrost is a demon that works in the castle under Skeppy. He is technically a soldier but tends to just guard the castle.

Okay! That’s all for the characters. A little about the world itself.

As I said earlier, spirits aren’t that rare to see, they just aren’t interacted with as often. Monster/Creatures, whether humanoid or not, are a little rarer as they most commonly are beasts that fall under Puffy’s control.

Gods are either almost never seen or appear so much in history it is strange when there is a gap of time without them there.

There are a few gods that are seen more than others, but all are still respected and feared.

A small design idea I had while thinking about this is that among humans, Fundy takes a more humanoid appearance with ears and tails as his most prominent fox features. When among gods he takes a more fox-like appearance with the head of a fox.

The reason he does this is that among humans, the more animal-like appearance of spirits or gods usually means they are dangerous while the more human-like usually means they are kinder.

The old cranky gods prefer the animal form of spirits and gods alike because it shows that they are above the ‘lowly’ humans. If a god doesn’t have a human form then just changing size to be larger and more intimidating or making it obvious they are a god is expected.

Puffy and Techno are the two gods that have animal-like appearances as well as their more human forms. Puffy is a ram and Techno a pig obviously. They can switch between the forms with ease.

Puffy is more usually in her human form as she likes to go to the humans and travel on pirate ships. The pirates refer to her as the God of Pirates as well but it’s just a title like Blood God for Techno.

Techno will more often be in his animal appearance as it is more intimidating but changes back when around his family for two reasons. He looks more like them which makes him glad and when he first met Tommy, his animal form scared him and he felt bad so he subconsciously avoids it while around Tommy.

Antfrost also can take a human form but it is more an illusion than a second form as if he is knocked unconscious, greatly distracted, or feels too strong of a negative emotion he will appear as his cat demon form.

I really loved having to think more about this au so please keep asking me things! I’ll probably be thinking of connections between characters and some backstory to where the ‘plot’ lays in time the next few days so ask questions about that if you want more detailed responses!

(Also, I see the other ask, I just need a bit to respond to it as well ^^)

[thepilgrimofwar]

Deathseeker

6.

Sederis nodded at Elleynah’s whisper. He may have had power within him, but he was not about to test himself against powers that he did not know- Powers, wreathed in ancient blood were never to be trifled with- Without consequences.

His gaze went down to her other hand, then up at Elleynah. But he did not stop her. She would be the master of her own fate and Sederis wouldn’t dare stop her from trying.

Even as she moved, the cards pulsed. Elleynah’s hand plunged into the flames; the cards swarmed them like insects. It was simultaneous, and it was by a hair that Elleynah’s hand was the quicker. 

The flames here in death were hungry. They consumed her skin and Elleynah swallowed her scream as the cards wrapped around them, shifting the world into something bleak and dark. It was a vision she had no control over; her blood fuelled it, but she maintained herself in the wildness. Lucky, that she had managed to burn her hand and cauterize the wounds to staunch the flow of her blood. 

Holding tight to Sederis, she pulled him closer as the scene around them changed. They were no longer in death; they were in a courtyard of Silvermoon, and the sky was overcast. No rain would fall, for the shimmer of the eternal Spring remained over the city. Elleynah’s breath caught at the scene.

It was a small square; shared by many small businesses, above the open ground floors the winding living spaces of those who manned the shops. A small group of children laughed under a curling goldwood; quel’dorei spoke under blue and silver awnings, birds singing far away. 

And there, sitting on the edge of a green patch, sat a little girl with copper curls.

For the first time in a long time, he felt a chill go down his spine. He had been here, to this very square, long ago. Before an eternity in the realms of Death. Before war had consumed him. Before the scars who made him were made. This was a scene from a distant dream. A happier time- Though it did not truly belong to him. Not as he was then. Not as he was now.

Sederis stared, watching the girl with copper curls.

“When are we?” he asked quietly. Unmoving. Still prepare to run if need be.

The girl sat quietly, looking down at her hands. The Elleynah at his side clenched her own, and Sederis could see the crisscrossing marks on the child’s palms-- scabs, some old, some new, all arrayed over her skin and deep enough to make her fingers tremble when she moved.

Elleynah hissed. “I am not reliving this.” She closed her burned hand, and let the layer of ash on her flesh flake away. “We’re leaving.” Blood seemed to bubble up from the ground under Elleynah’s feet, and she pulled Sederis with her as she turned.

The world shifted; she turned, and they once more faced the square. She pulled Sederis after her, but no matter the steps, they always stayed where they were.

The girl did not look up to them, instead closing her hands once more with a wince.

“Oi, Elleybutt.” A voice cracked over the pleasantness, and a woman in baggy clothes, hair a bramblepatch of dark locks cut across the scene. She had two good eyes, but the familiar tattoos showed where the skin flashed between trousers and ill-fitting tunic.

Elleynah froze a moment, looking at her sister. Baelisian was so much more vital in her memories. Seeing now how the woman was so much the same as the bitter creature she knew as an adult…

“No.” She shook her head and turned to Sederis. “I need you to think of… something painful. I’m sorry. We won’t linger there.” She clasped his hand. “I need to channel the magic into something else that isn’t this. You’re dead, I know, but it should still work since your memories are your own.”

Painful?

He said both outloud and in her head. The place unnerved him. He had grown comfortable with the rules of the Shadowlands. Bearing all the power that the Lady could bring upon him. But this was alien. It felt wrong.

Sederis hesitated for a moment, but as she saw little Elleynah stare at the scabs on her palms, he shut his eyes. He drew upon moments of misery. Of war. Of sacrifice. But none of them were painful- Not anymore. Too much peace had been made during his crossing into death.

Painful.

His voice within her mind’s eye lowered into a growl. There were things that still hurt him, even now. Things that even he, at a God of Death in his own right- Still feared to think of.

Elleynah was working before the memory had blossomed in his mind, the fetid wound of it giving her magic something to latch to. His hand in hers, she reached to her hip and drew the slender dagger she had not dared yet to use; the black glass was jagged and split their skin as one. A norma dagger made of steel would not sever the un-flesh of the dead; but this was an athame made in death, forged from the black sand, tempered in the pyres of bones and doused in… doused in her blood, spilled too much in the Endless Wood. 

The square vanished, and they were plunged into a nightmare of a dead man.

The scene peeled backwards into darkness. No longer were they in the courtyard of blues and silvers, but a dark spartan room lit by cold moonlight. No laughing of children, no bustle of life of a living city. Just a woman, weeping.

There were two of them now, one, a vicious man with a clenched fist- The other, a shadow of his former self. Both of them stayed silent. At their feet was Relriah, bruises across her face, ugly tears running down her face.

“Say it again,” the unscarred man said. His voice was low. A deadly calm. A dare, wrapped in a promise of further violence. “Say it again Riah,” he said, almost lilting this time. Goading her on to speak her mind.

Please be quick Elleynah. Please.

The sobbing made a part of her heart hammer; she knew that kind of crying. Yet the woman in the scene was not the half-mad mother whose body she could not bear to look upon even in memory; this was another ghost, another’s pain.

“One day,” the woman spoke, low and venomous. “You will find that the world doesn’t belong to you. That I don’t belong to you.”

“Only that you will. What will you do? Huh? Run? Where to? Who would take you?” The man kneeled over her, lowering his voice. Anger turning sick, in the same way power twisted all who bore it. “Or do you plan on going alone? Someone as useless as you? Whoring yourself to eat? Don’t make me laugh.”

Sederis considered turning away, but could not. This was who he had been, once upon a time. The part of him that he hated. That he spent the remainder of his life trying to atone for. The first of which was leaving her, to keep her beyond his own reach.

Once, you had asked. On a flying city. What would we have been without The Fall. This is who I’d be. That for all the terrible things that happened to me, I still made my peace. Because for all the time I spent suffering as a Pilgrim of War and a Deathseeker, it all meant that I wasn’t this.   

Elleynah listened to the callous words and cruelties of a man she had never known; and she turned away, despite the blackening mark in her memory. She would not delve into this tragedy here. 

Away from her own panicked memories, she could see the seams of where the Three of Swords had forged this painful truth. Holding tight to Sederis’ bleeding hand, she pulled him away from the scene of his shame, of his dark history. Whatever he had been, whatever haunted him, she would not let it sink its claws in him. He was not the Oracle to be punished; he was the Usher, and now, he lead her through to where she could once more change the future.

She could not change this past, but she would not let him suffer it.

The dagger in her hand shattered, and she winced as she pulled him along. Despite the scene trying to chase them, Elleynah knew now where the vision was weakest. Running her hands over the magic, she let her blood flow into it, warping the weave of it.

Push, she thought at Sederis, hoping he would hear her through the pain she was inflicting on him. Push hard against this. Put all that pain into this moment, and we’ll get out. I promise.

Sederis could not turn away. His gaze fixated on himself, whole, unscarred, as the man stood back up and listened to the cries in the darkness. He heard Elleynah’s thoughts, directed at him, echoing inside himself. Though he had wanted to, Sederis could not weep. So instead he stepped towards the scene.

Placing himself between him and Relriah, he looked at each of them. A memory replicated in perfection. Fueled by all the emotional power it bore within him. Then he pushed, and pain shot through his entire shadowed being.

I…

The word held a note, inhuman, more akin to the howl of a beast.

I spent my entire life trying to outrun you.

His voice spilled out from him now, radiating into the realm of memory.

Performed greater and more terrible sins, just to be rid of you. To atone for what you did, even if no one else remembered my sins. Not even Riah.

Sederis looked back at the woman, who wept still.

But without you, I would have never become me. Never strived to become nobler- kinder- better- to not be you. So-

Though it took all his courage, and all his will, The Deathseeker stepped up to the man and placed a hand on his shoulder. It almost seemed as if the memory itself felt it. His nobleborn eyes glancing to his side. All the pain, all the shame that he carried within him was drawn to this moment. Connecting his past, present, and future in this one point. One gesture.

I will make peace with my sins. You aren’t someone I was trying to outrun. You made me. You are me- And I forgive you.

Elleynah’s hand dropped. Watching him, she could not focus on the spell… what Sederis was doing was the more powerful of their magics. Her hand closed at her side, one ruined and burned, the other unscathed, and they clenched tight.

Sederis’ hand rested on the shoulder of the man he had been, and all his terrible pain laid bare.

The world stilled.

And then… it shattered.

Deathseeker and Lifespeaker were one moment in a room haunted by pain and memory, and the next once more in a pavilion in dead sands, a witches hand in the fire.

Hissing in pain Elleynah snatched her hand away, and cradled it to her chest. Her eyes went to the illusory cards which turned to ash even as she gazed at them, fluttering into a deathly wind.

You will Listen and feel all that you Denied.

A broken laugh burst from her. “Gods, you really are an Usher aren’t you?” Bitterness coated the words, and she tried so hard to find the kind girl in herself who had been so shy at hurting others who hurt, so painfully aware of their pain and unwilling to exist if it meant adding to their burdens. It hurt, to know she was there still, beneath the desperation. Baelisian had called her a hypocrite and in the end, perhaps her sister had been right. 

She had made him hurt, and she hated herself so much for it that it came around to hating everything else again. “You fulfilled the cards demand. You Felt and Accepted when I couldn’t just so we could get out.” Her voice turned softer. “I’m sorry. Gods, I say that a lot but I always am, even when it’s useless.” She looked down at the palm of her burned hand where the scars that crisscrossed her palm seemed to stand out in stark relief against the blackened skin.

The Dead Man blinked once, then twice. The sensations of his gesture still hung heavily within his chest. It moved him, even in his state, even after living in time outside of time. Because for as many eternities he had spent wandering the Shadowlands, he had merely did as he pleased. This was different. It was change. Growth. In a place where nothing ought to grow.

“Are you alright?” He said suddenly, taking her palm into both hands and examined the wound. “Well, don’t worry yourself about that. If anything, I should be thanking you. I think… I needed that.” Sederis seemed… More alive somehow. Beyond the shadows that hovered over her palm, and beyond the appearance of the Usher. There was new life in him now.

Her stomach twisted. Yes, the thanks for having revealed the truth, ordained the stars mysteries and showed the future, warned or healed or brought to a head. She closed her eyes, and even in that warm dark, she felt the change rendered in Sederis. Her presence was altering him, again.

It had altered him just-- just that small amount, in Dalaran in the halcyon days, and now she had done it once more, only this time, the Deathseeker had found what he sought. Faced the darkness in his history and accepted some of it. 

Well, she had become Lifespeaker; she spoke, and now in him was life. Her blood may be catalyst but perhaps there were other reasons the living did not last long in death.

Elleynah did not know how to process the bruised face of the woman she had never known, and how alike it was to the pained expression she had seen on her mother when Aeyanti returned from her absences; there were parts of Sederis’ life she had known would not be hers to know and yet now she had glimpse them, maybe more than most who called him friend could. It roiled around in her. She had once, in her heart, absolved him of all unkindness in his past for his present virtue. Some part of her wished to rescind the judgement, and yet...

He took her hand and it was like she slipped into that memory; sitting on the couch, the cub in her lap, the pain in her hand as he touched her with a gentleness she needed and yet did not deserve. 

This time, she let him inspect her wounds without flinching away or flushing. She was awkward yet but they had grown beyond those golden hours, suffered and become more… less… different than they had been. And in that moment, she accepted him again. Not with the eyes of a woman helpless with her affection, not the superior who prized his skills and cared naught for their origin.

Elleynah accepted Sederis; the flawed man he had been, good and bad, noble of heart and cruel. Her friend, who kept his promises.

And in that moment, she knew she could mourn him. He had never really been hers, but he had been and that was enough.

It was a shift in her perspective, all at once. Elleynah stared at him, and overlaying him was the man he had been, and the spirit he had become, and she smiled. For the first time in all of her journeys through death, a peace spread through her chest. If this was to be his ending… it was not a bad one.

She watched as he gazed down at her, the burned skin, the slicing scars across her palm. He had seen them in visions, she remembered-- knew that they bled when her powers overwhelmed her. “I’ll be fine; I’m alive, and living things heal.” She spoke quietly. “I’ve lived through worse down here. Lots worse. It’s just terrible timing on the part of the Three of Swords.” She glowered at her hip, where the deck lie dormant. “They all want their turn to tell me what I’ve done wrong or right and they won’t shut up.”

Rolling her shoulders, she lifted her good hand to cover a yawn, fatigue at all they had survived catching up to her. “Gods, I’m tired. I haven’t slept in forever.”

He nodded, giving her a sheepish smile. Not sure what had become of him, not really, as he drew backwards, more animated than before. “Here I was worried that living things were fragile. But you’re right. They change. They heal. And are better for it.” Sederis smiled in response to her. 

“Out here when you unravel- You tear yourself into strings. Not as painful as that sounds, but things don’t… Heal.” He withdrew his attentions over her palm, realizing, at last, quite obviously that there was nothing he could do. “Out here, there’s an exchange. Shadows of something are taken to replace shadows of your being that are lost. You’re made of everything else, bent to your will. Least that’s been the case for me. Lady willing.”

Sederis stood up again, looking out into the dunes outside the pavilion of shadow from and agreed. “Get some rest. I’ll keep watch- It’s not like I’ve got anything better to do.” He joked. Better this time. More naturally than their initial meeting.

Stretching, she nodded and unclasped her cloak. “I’ll try to sleep then, for a spell. Wake me with a shake if you need me up, I don’t sleep very deep.” Elleynah laid the cloth under her head, and curled around herself in a tight ball, protective of her wounded hand. 

It was easier to sleep than she had feared it would be; the warmth, the spark that had been given back to Sederis seemed to set something in her at ease in a way she had not felt… since before her plunge into the Shadowlands. She closed her eyes, and drifted off to the sound of crackling flame and the stalwart presence of the one and only Deathseeker.

-Fin-

-

Edited Commission by CherryVioletsS

@retributionpriest​ @stormandozone​ @thanidiel​

[rose-oracles]

The Zodiac Signs Struggles

Aries:  When out of balance, Aries can become dominant, confrontational, self-absorbed, or insensitive. Their fierce independence makes it difficult to compromise in relationships. Lacking self-restraint, Arians can be temperamental at times, blowing up childishly, or being careless and unkind. While Arians possess their own brand of charm – straightforward and self-assured –others can feel bulldozed by their force of opinions and lack of tact. Key lessons for Aries are to slow down and bring projects and ideas to completion. They must learn to stop and listen to opposing points of view, developing composure, tolerance, and balance in their daily lives.  If Arians can harness their vast stores of vitality and direct them toward the greater good, their trailblazing could spark fires of inspiration while initiating much-needed change in the world. By developing receptivity and self-restraint, Arians can become fearless warriors, leading the rest of us out of both danger and stagnation.

Taurus:  Sometimes Taurus’s commitment to the earth falls off-kilter. She becomes too rigid, protecting of her heart, fearing that if she softens, she will fall apart or lose control. The key for Taurus is to develop a strong sense of worthiness. After all, she rules self-worth. Somehow, she has to face her shadows and love herself fully. Surrender is important for Taurus.  Not only must she yield to her shadows, she must also release her unhealthy attachments and indulgences. From there, she can allow her steady and generous compassion to shine through. If Taurus is able to let go of rigidity and possessiveness, she will be able to attract whatever she wants. Diving into her natural ability to love wholeheartedly, she can open to a deeper sense of intimacy and self-acceptance. Taurus is an earth god or goddess, planting us in the ground so we may root down and grow up, reaching to the sky of wisdom and oneness. As the Taurean shows us the earth’s beauty, she must remember to relax her fixation on physical appearance, as well as an exaggerated desire for material wealth and security. Real abundance comes from generosity and extending her love and acceptance to all beings. Growing into her true self, Taureans realize that they have all that they need within themselves – including deep contentment and a strong connection to ordinary magic. They will be able to heal others with the power of their touch, while offering a beautiful container of groundedness and security.  

Gemini:  Intellect without heart is dangerous. As Gemini’s energies swirl primarily around their heads they sometimes struggle to drop into their hearts. If a Gemini is out of balance, he can poison the well, propagating ideas that are morally corrupt of harmful, both to himself and others. The key for Gemini is to meditate, allowing the snow globe of his brilliant, active mind to settle to the ground. From here, he can connect with his body and heart, then make more genuine decisions. Gemini’s may find commitment difficult, as they’re easily bored and intrigued by a variety of experiences. They need constant stimulation as well as stimulating friends. If Gemini could direct his interest more fully to one person, he might find that each individual is endlessly fascinating, that we all have beautiful mythological tapestries within us, filled with limitless wisdom. Herein lies the key to resolving Gemini’s struggles. His inquisitive and quick mind can provide a beautiful path to wisdom, as long as he grounds his knowledge in ultimate truth and a bigger picture of moral study, emotional investments, and purpose. It would benefit Gemini to study with an open heart and tears in his eyes, remembering to integrate both sides of himself – the intellect and the heart. As his path to wisdom unfolds, Gemini can become an excellent teacher, as long as he points people to their own experience, rather than imposing his points of view.

Cancer:  To be a balanced Cancer, the crab must be willing to come out of her shell, release the security of her tough exterior, and reveal her soft and nurturing essence. She must learn to feel the cruelty of the human heart while remaining open-loving all aspects of humanity, beginning with herself. Otherwise, a triggered Cancer can be moody, sharp, and indirect. If Cancer does not feel safe, she can become hardened-even engaging in her own acts of cruelty because she has closed her heart, hiding behind her shell and pincers. If loving and supportive are not surrounding her, she could take on the savagery of others, losing the courage to be vulnerable. It is vital for Cancer to master human emotion, both her own and others. She must learn how to psychically protect herself, so she can walk into the world with her innate sensitivity, while remaining kind and genuine. If she does, she becomes the world’s mother, ever compassionate, loving, and forgiving of all human atrocities. She can understand people like no other, seeing to their core with X-ray vision. If she chooses to reveal herself, rather than hiding behind her masks, she can become the ultimate symbol of universal love and compassion. This is a Cancer’s true nature.

Leo:  When out of balance, Leo’s natural courage can become prideful and arrogant. Without an audience, he feels incomplete and unworthy, exaggerating his talents with showiness out of desperation to feel lovable. Part of Leos’ work is to recognize that their light radiates whether or not someone is there to receive it. In searching for others to reflect their love, they may have forgotten that love transcends giver and receiver-one of their most important lessons. Others may feel angered by Leo as the lion’s longing for appreciation and admiration can come across as self-absorption, vanity, hunger for power, or conceit. To become the loving king or queen, Leo must remember to surrender personal desire, and that we are ultimately working for the benefit of all. Then he can move closer to his enlightened state-recognizing his faults and gifts with honesty, expressing creativity with humor, loving himself fully, and extending that love to all. Sad Leos are ones who have forgotten the joy of generosity, who have started to believe they are unworthy of pleasure, or who have become too fixated on one person or ego pursuits. An awakened Leo is a self-less, radiant leader, who inspires others to live from their hearts, and to express themselves fearlessly. When Leo demonstrates this, life becomes effortless, for the Lion is embodying his genuine nature.  

Virgo:  No one worries more than dear Virgo, who seems to have a hamster wheel living inside her head. Her careful mind can easily teeter into over analysis, as she mulls over unimportant minutiae. In pursuit of spiritual perfection, the Virgoan can become self-critical, particularly if she hasn’t developed proper self-love or the ability to forgive herself. This self-judgment can easily turn on those around her, as she looks down from her high horse, irritating others with her nitpicking and righteousness. Virgo’s real work is to look in the mirror with her clear and honest vision, and to embrace the totality of her being, loving herself fully. She must be able to recognize her strengths and weaknesses, with both humility and full appreciation. If she can commit to this work, she will be able to deepen her understanding of nuance and human complexity while also unlocking her extraordinary gifts. She can learn to shine her pure light onto others, helping them to heal and love themselves—just as she has done for herself. As she stops her mind’s spinning and embraces her whole self, she could even become an important person for the world’s healing, creating environments of sanity, order, selflessness, and magic. The rest of us can look to Virgo as a pristine example of devotion, service to others, and tenacious dedication to purity and spiritual perfection.    

Libra:  The problem is that Libra, in a commitment to maintaining his fragile inner peace, can end up merely skimming the surface, unwilling to delve into grit, sometimes telling half-truths to avoid confrontation. When Librans rule love and can be wonderful partners, they also struggle more than any other sign in this very domain. In fact, relationships are their main path to personal growth. Anxiety can rise as they sense the scales tipping out of balance, which so often happens in deep relationships. People pleasers, they may disappear to avoid confrontation, seeking love elsewhere without informing their partners. They do so to maintain love in their lives while avoiding hurt feelings. Librans also have trouble agreeing with any strong opinion, feeling compelled to calmly present an opposing point of view – no matter their own. They teeter with their commitments and decision making, easily seeing the positives and negatives of every situation. How can someone so comfortable in paradox possibly take a stand or choose one option? How can someone who discovers beauty at every corner decide to stay on one corner for the rest of their life? Dilettantism, struggles keeping promises, and dishonesty are all indications that Libra is out of whack and operating from neurosis. The key to restoring balance, the focus of their journey, is to dive fully into darkness and whatever they fear. They can find harmony in the depths – beauty in their sadness and richness in their anger – while opening their hearts to the uglier aspects of themselves and humanity. These are the signs of an awakened Libra.      

Scorpio: Living with a dark well of emotion, a danger exists for the unbalanced Scorpion to fall into fear and repression. Unable to regulate the confusion and chaos within, Scorpio could resort to obsessive – compulsion, attempting to control her environment, both externally and within herself. She could become jealous and possessive, even wanting to destroy her partners if she can’t own them completely. Eventually the fuse will blow for imbalanced Scorpio. She will explode, revealing a maelstrom of emotion that she’s been hiding behind thick walls. Moody, sulky – and potentially abusive and destructive – neurotic can become lost in self-absorption, repression, or addiction. They punish those around them as they project their unexamined shadows onto others. Any pain or self-loathing that they don’t acknowledge, they will despise in whoever is close. Conversely, the Scorpion could have positive shadows, overwhelmed by envy for those who are demonstrating her unrealized potentials. The key for Scorpio’s journey is to understand the tremendous power they hold. They have the ability, more than any other sign, to face intense psychic undercurrents, without drowning. If the Scorpion can rouse courage and face whatever rises, she will discover her own secret – the gifts of deep wisdom, healing, and profundity. As Scorpio relaxes with her afflictions, inviting them to meet her exactly as they are, they will vanish instantly. If she lets go, plunging into darkness, she will find that she is able to open to an equal amount of light. We need among us such women and men, innate shamans who face the world’s underbelly, helping us heal with the magic of surrender.

Sagittarius: An imbalanced Sagittarian can fall into various traps because of his over enthusiasm. Exceedingly zealous and trusting, he could run into harmful situations, unable to draw upon healthy skepticism and discernment. Sagittarian problems could include diving too fast into relationships or marriage, following questionable religions or doctrines, or finding himself in peril in faraway places. The Sagittarian would benefit from tempering his exuberance, appetite, and lust. Otherwise, he could have trouble staying in one place, or with one person. The constant seeking, which is helpful for gleaning wisdom, could easily become restlessness or impatience. His fervor could turn into fanaticism if he forgets that the path will lead to truth but is not truth itself. Meditation and discipline would be a great support for Sagittarius. Bringing increased awareness to his body, heart, and other people—noticing if he's gone too far in thought or action—could help him to assuage his extremism, while avoiding hurting himself for others. Even in making mistakes, Sagittarius is able to expand his mind and heart through varied experiences. His courage in diving headlong into adventure makes him a fascinating character—one who has much to teach and share later in life, in spite of frequent blunders. Quick to fall into the trap of faulty thinking or behavior, he’s just as apt to let them go. He is ready to bound forward into his next avenue of thought and adventure, never looking back.  

Capricorn: Capricorn can become so fixed on a goal that she loses sight of the bigger picture. Her natural leadership could become overly controlling and domineering, and her emphasis on society could morph into an unhealthy preoccupation with image and material pursuits. As she obsesses over wealth and her public persona, she could end up repressing her emotions and the messier aspects of her being. The key for Capricorn is to make sure that the sturdy foundations she builds align with her highest ideals. She constructs everything with incredible tenacity and attention to detail, so she must be sure to start with proper intention—considering if what she is working on will contribute positively to society. If she’s disconnected from integrity, the imbalanced Capricorn could recalibrate by protecting her solitude—perhaps wandering off alone to engage in Capricornian interests, like nature, music, history, or antique. This gives Capricorn time to reflect so she will make decisions from a more genuine place. The inner life is very important for Capricorn, who must be certain that her outer life and well—crafted endeavors begin from a tender place. Otherwise success could feel hollow—existing merely as a badge of power, fame, and social prestige. Workaholism and loneliness are potential pitfalls for Capricorns. They must learn to balance home life with social life, allowing their fluidity and emotional expression to come forth, while upholding their commitment to decorum and social graces. The antidote for Capricornian neuroses is learning to relax, conveying their true selves in their public personas, and aligning their vocation with their most heartfelt desires.  

Aquarius: When out of balance, the Aquarians lighting bolts could morph from enlightened activity and changing humanity for the better, to straight up destruction with no purpose. When their hearts close, their healthy rebellion can become contentious as they act out against any energies they find oppressive. Frequently, Aquarians trigger people as they test waters and push envelopes, saying outrageous things. While this type of behavior can be helpful, pushing limits of our comfort zones and egos, Aquarians can easily go too far, making enemies and hurting people unnecessarily. Aquarians’ focus on humanity can sometimes harm their personal relationships, as it’s easier for them to love the concept of people than the actual gritty human being standing before them. They can become aloof and cold, finding it challenging to stay committed to the confines of their human bodies. The freedom to travel into conceptual and spiritual realms feels far more exciting, rewarding, and limitless. The key for Aquarians Is to find a way to love every human being the way he loves humanity, to remember that he is passionate about applying his insight and brilliance to the progression of humankind because each of us is a precious being. We are in this together as a group of individuals, reflecting love collectively and on our own. The enlightened Aquarian dives into intimacy, which helps to ground him. After all, we are human beings, and our true spiritual path begins with embracing this fully.

Pisces:  If Pisces forgets to set boundaries and take care of herself, she can easily fall into problems. Because she is empathetic and forgiving, she is more apt than other signs to attract abusive partners, less able to walk away from toxicity than more courageous, logical, or earthier signs. Because she is so fluid, and because she finds the separate between self and other to be so nebulous, she often forgets to connect with the strength of her dignity—which has nothing to do with other people’s perceptions. One of the keys to creating more harmony in a Piscean soul is to develop a strong sense of worthiness—the understanding that she is okay exactly the way that she is, regardless of external validation. If Pisces can realize that she has dominion over herself and her circumstances, if she can trust herself to set boundaries when other people mistreat her, she can let go of her tendency toward martyrdom. She can grow into the understanding that by allowing bad behavior, she ultimately betrays herself. This means she has more power than she sometimes likes to admit, but by owning power, she becomes more of who she is—embodied and expansive at the same time, as she joins heaven and earth. The other Piscean trap is escapism through various means addiction, spaciness, avoidance, or delusion, for example. Her trouble committing to being human can lead her to the clouds, while she has trouble connecting with pragmatism, punctuality, self-care, and directness. If Pisces can develop self-awareness, boundaries, and discipline, she could become one of the world’s greatest mystics—a powerful, otherworldly reminder of unconditional love and interconnection.

 - Where I got this information: The Stars Within You. A Modern Guide To Astrology. By Juliana McCarthy.

{Rose-Oracles}

[maikatc]

Black Sun Tale | The Pocketwatch

remember that this is a first draft with only minor edits, but enjoy! comments and reception is always appreciated. 

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“How does it work?” Ayu’s legs almost jumped in curiosity. Such magic was exactly like what he had seen from a comic, only, without a simple trinket. 

“You open and close it– but that’s not what’s important at the moment!” Eilwen swatted her free hand around Ayu’s face. Ayu complied as she said, “What would you like to know first?”

“Oh,” he reminded himself, “yeah… I really need this one, so can you tell me about the monsters?”

“What monsters?”

“You gotta know them.” Ayu’s arms fumbled to recreate their image. “They’re big, scary, kinda ghost looking but like to stab?”

“The Iblis monsters?” An eye twitched from Eilwen’s confused look.

“That’s what they’re called?”

“Oh, my Lord-.” Eilwen placed a hand on her forehead. “You actually don’t know anything.”

“Can’t you tell me already?” Ayu’s expression lowered from her tired attitude. 

Eilwen’s brows furrowed. “I’m afraid not. Alice told me not to give information on them but I didn’t actually think you needed it!”

“I get it. I’m dumb, but damn…” Ayu picked on some dry skin; no solution to the question making him itch. “Then, why is this all happening anyways? For everybody and me, I mean.”

“Oh well that’s simple enough.” For the first time, she opened her pocket watch. And with the snap of it closing shut yet again, the flame in the middle of the room began to fade. The room melted along with the light as new ones grew into new scenery. In front of them was a boy, brightness all around him in his short stature. His light figure glowed from his white hair and skin, while his tunics and layers of silk matted him to a royal status with his circlet made of gold and shiny coal. “You already know Akeldama.”

The rare sight stunted Ayu, and in a baffled surprise, he asked, “Am I able to… touch him?”

“Why so?”

“I’ve never been able to, and its making me wonder,” he answered truthfully. 

A click of the tongue was heard. “For him, no.” Eilwen walked towards the image smiling in pride. “They’re similar to an illusion; something clear to our minds but not our bodies.” She waved over the boy. Her hand passed through his body with ease. 

Ayu processed her words. “… So, if I put my mind to it, can I punch him or something?”

“No.” The boy mumbled a swear. “But let’s move on with your question: Akeldama is some sort of being with immense amount of power and dark magic. Presumably, a devil of sorts, which would explain his terrible mannerisms in ruling.”

The scene cleared from blurry vision Ayu had not realized before. Flames formed behind Akeldama in vigorous fashion. Small houses built under the burning light and drifted away in ashes. 

“He’s killed thousands, as legends say.” Her voice was void of pity. She stared at the view with Ayu, her face dull without a sign from tragedy. “But, he also saved dozens. Horribly, if I may add.” 

Eilwen clicked her watch yet again. The scene formed into the forest Ayu stood only minutes ago. As the land filled in focus, the woman walked on. Ayu followed. 

Stepping upon soundless grass, a blur of color came from the distance. Viewing closer, the blur changed to people in all shapes and sizes. Their clothes shined in all sorts of colors as they all gathered in a circle. Eilwen entered into the clump, Ayu followed. His body shifted between people as he bumped into many. 

“Didn’t you say these were like illusions?”

“Depends on the event,” she answered. “They still can’t feel us, but one thing I know from all of time is that Akeldama is untouchable.”

Ayu’s small brows furrowed as he shuffled against the crowd of strangers. 

“He created our society from, what we could tell as, boredom. But his way in recruitment for many didn’t consist of greed or malice, but instead desperation and escape.” The chatter charged in anxiety and silence. Whispers reached out beyond all and overlapped between others’ words. “He came along offering immortality, power, and above all else, a way out of our lives. However, the offering and contracts quickly became a threat.”

“Fuck…” Ayu stopped pushing himself away from others. He paused his movement in reminiscence of Akeldama’s offerings. 

“From what Alice believes,” Eilwen added. “Akeldama does have intentions for his actions.” She made a look at Ayu. 

Ayu began tugging his hair again. 

“Only we may never find out. Even with my magic, I can only go so far as to the 1600s, and at that, some parts are blocked.”

Once they exited the circle, Ayu asked, “Hasn’t anybody tried to take over? Or kill him?”

Eilwen scoffed, “As if that would occur.” She pointed at the crowd. “All of our abilities come from Akeldama’s own magic, and he always isolates himself in his throne room in which only Alice is able to enter. And if anyone were to attempt, they’d be aware he can kill in a millisecond. A suicide attempt, if you will.” 

“So, pretty much a no.”

“Anyone would kill him if they had the chance,” she stated.

“Or put him in a choke-hole…”

She scoffed, “We wish.”

A second of thought necessitated him. “I’m gonna have to wait more for most of these, aren’t I,” asked Ayu. 

“Practically so, yes.”

His face flattened. “I’m going nowhere with this, then?”

“Regardless of knowledge,” she faced him directly in the eyes, “you’re not going to be able to stop him with your nature.”

Ayu groaned, pulling his bangs harder. “Why the fuck do I even try?”

“I’d mind you about the language but there’s no point with what we do,” she commented.

Ayu hummed with an agitated pitch. Though he realized other options are always possible. “… Then, what about Oliver? Can’t I get background on him?”

Eilwen stared into space for quite some time. Her thoughts seemed to be fixated from all Ayu could ponder. “You can gain some. But only some.” She set her watch again. “Though his family line is crucial in the development of this society.”

The forest melted in color. The circle of civilians devolving into lifeless blobs of nothing. The grey skies turned to the dark bricks of a ceiling. And walls closed in behind them. Dirt and musk engraved itself on the floors along with small blood splatters and spilled water. The only light to appear in the desolate waste of a room was a small window unreachable by height, and the small hole that poked out of the wooden door. 

In the corner was a girl, a few years senior of Ayu. Her body contorted to a ball shaking in every limb. Her light hair was ragged and greasy, dangling across her head and legs in clumps. The hair covered up the view of searing scars, as well as the chains stuck upon her wrists.

“1610: … Cecily Rixon, or as you likely know her as, Alice. She was accused of witchcraft after remedying her mother through illness, and taken to the chambers to be punished until she admitted her crimes, guaranteeing her execution.”

Ayu stared at the chilling image in front of him, though, his own chills never stopped him from moving at that moment. “So, she was hurt to death?” His feet led him on towards the girl. He stood above her and watched her cower from nothing but her own pain. 

“I-indeed.” 

He lowered his knees, then adjusted himself to where he sat across from her. He pondered as she cried up dry tears. “This was… normal, right?” 

“I wish to say it wasn’t,” Eilwen answered. “… She was about to admit to her ‘crimes’ back then, however, -”

The door opened slowly, but not to the attention of Ayu. The girl whisked her head up at the small creak of sound. Her covered up face now revealed itself to the scene. Dry skin filled up her cheeks with a cut on the side. A swell from another cheek punctured and bruised her lip. All and even a burning brand mark seeped by the end of her neck. Ayu studied it all before turning back to see who was at the door. Though, it was easily recognizable by that point. 

“He’d arrived at her darkest day.”

Her throat trembled at her own words as she spat, “I work with the devil, sir… You may take me by the grave but that won’t- that won’t stop him.” The words jumbled in its own confusion.

“You may lie as you like,” Akeldama said calmly, “but, that may never work for someone like me, as disappointing as that is.” He entered the cell. His bored expression looked down upon her as her face twisted to confusion. 

“You’re not the guard.”

“I know I’m not,” he replied. “I arrived for something else.” 

“What’s your reasoning?”

“To give you a-” He rolled his eyes. “Bargain.”

The girl never replied to him. 

He sighed, “You don’t believe this sort of life is worthwhile? Don’t you?”

No answer. 

“Your family pushed you to labor then to this state only because of some men in armor scaring them. They formed you into this state without hearing any of your pleas or thinking anything of a truth from you. You’re in this state because you could never fight back, not even speak back to them. They’re all of unfair power against you.” 

She turned away from him.

“You can do something about that; you’re able to stand for yourself and prosper.” He told her. “You can get out of this life where you’re controlled by their lies… and I’ll help.”

“What a lie,” Eilwen twitched. 

Ayu’s focus completely shifted to Akeldama. His mind numbed from his contradiction. Though, most of all, he thought, why haven’t you told that to me…?

The girl turned back around, shaky and slow. “H-how?”

He offered his hand. “Come with me and you can live a new life. I’ll give you power; I’ll give you freedom. You’ll live however you’d like, as long as you follow what I say.”

Her eyes shimmered in a flash. “What is it you’ll say?”

He looked away. “Small things. Nothing major in the grand scheme of the world. I need time to have everything set, to be frank, so you’ll need patience.” A small smile creeped from his lips with the sense of genuineness. “But take my hand, and one day you’ll live whatever you imagine.”

“I always hated seeing this,” Eilwen sighed. “Yet, nonetheless she accepted his deal, and left her life of before.”

The girl reached out, her hand almost as bony as Ayu’s. She grasped Akeldama’s, and they both disappeared. 

“She was the first to be a part of Akeldama’s reign, and the first to discover the true cost of joining him before the rest of us.” She reset the watch. “Akeldama began recruiting multiple others after her.”

Trees grew around the two and surrounded them by their branches and roots. The sky was blocked by fresh green leaves though way up above creeped a sip of grey. Ayu would have kept his face up, viewing the height of the trees, but a man passed by in a rush.

Ayu stumbled over in surprise, and once he gained balance again, he found the man at his sight. The tall man paced all over the trees, humming a tune off-pitch and off-beat. He adjusted his poignant ginger hair back over and over without an avail to fix his loose hairs. His other hand carried a bouquet of pond flowers and four-leaf clovers drenched all around, including his own suit from fallen down petals. 

After groaning, the man took off with dangling hair on his side. Eilwen walked with him. “Thirty years later in the 1640s, when we were depressingly thriving, a man named Christopher Broichet had joined, originally known as Felicette.” 

Ayu tiptoed around fake branches and rocks. “Are we gonna follow him for all this time?”

“Yes? Is it challenging?” 

“No,” he gave her. “Catching up isn’t gonna be hard at all-” He tripped as soon as he swore. 

Eilwen shook her head and proceeded. It forced Ayu to bring his weight back together and rush back. “It isn’t that long of a walk.”

“It’s not the walk,” Ayu huffed, “It’s the forest! Everything’s small and it’s kinda dark.” 

Eilwen told him, “You’ll get used to it in time.”

He ignored the comment. Grumbling while stepping over a log.

“He had caught the attention of Alice, surprisingly considering her stoic-ness at the time, but they’d quickly become the society’s lovers.”

The bark walls opened to another open field, though with a cottage by the side and a leafless tree far in the midst. Alice had sat there waiting, dressed in a fine gown and her hair tied within a bun. 

Felicette dashed towards her, clamping his heels on the ground to make a full stop once he met her. 

“I have a good reason for being late!” He handed her the bouquet. 

Alice picked up a clover from the pile almost falling over. “You must like these, don’t you?”

Sitting down with her, he smiled. “I think they heavily compliment you.”

“They do, especially with the five others you’ve gotten me.” 

Felicette eyed her. “Shouldn’t those have died already?”

“Of course not,” she exclaimed. “This is Fowls, everything lasts forever here. ‘less you’re human.”

He chuckled at her. “I’d say that’s very unlikely.” His innocent composure gently kissed Alice by the cheek.

Ayu squinted at the two, specifically Felicette. “… He’s Oliver’s dad?”

“Yes, from what she tells us.”

He tilted and shook his head, right as Felicette lifted Alice up into the tree and making her giggle in delight. No, I don’t see it. 

“They brought a nice light to the people.” Soft laughter evoked as the two sat together on the tree. “Christopher had lots of charisma to inspire the land.”

With doubt, Ayu nodded. “Do you see that with Oliver,” he asked.

A thump was heard from the distance. The two turned to see Felicette fallen from the tree. “… That’s difficult to say, especially with the intelligence difference.” Nothing necessarily interesting occurred then, so Eilwen continued her lesson. “Throughout the years, it came to notice that he, along with many others in his movement, stopped following Akeldama’s order of murder.”

“Years?”

“Akeldama was lenient on it for a few decades.” A click from her pocket was heard. “However, eventually…”

Flames appeared again. Rising smoke brought Ayu to a cough as he stumbled in the old environment. “Why does this one feel more real? -”

Eilwen swatted ashes away. “I remember it more,” she answered, “That’s all.” 

Ayu’s eyes squinted from the burning sensation only to meet a body in front of him: stabbed in multiple parts of their limbs and torso, dripping of blood and a black substance. He choked at the sight and blinked nonstop in surprise. In wide eyes, he shook up to view the dead face of Oliver’s father. 

“1701, November 1st, Christopher was executed in the eyes of all of us. Akeldama said to have done it as a warning for those who rebelled, and have people working properly again. Though, the opposite happened.” 

Ayu stared at the body which soon corroded into nothingness. … Oliver wasn’t born in the 1700s. 

“The society began to die out afterwards in lost hope. Assisted suicides began occurring and succeeding to the point that only few of us were left.”

The scene fast forwarded in front of them. The flames and houses faded into grey ashes. A sense of the world went numb again for Ayu. “Akeldama seemed prepared for this event however, because hours later, he brought something new.” 

Two figures walked in the distance. Ruins crowded over them, courting to their soft, patted steps. One of the figures revealed themselves more clearly than the other. His small stature shadowed the other with only the tiniest difference of height. Long black hair dusted around his face as he seemed to be shaking in ashes. Yet, the taller guided him with a held hand; no clear reaction in sight. 

“He saved a single child from that village he burned.” The child stumbled upon his feet next to Akeldama. “He’s never revealed his true name to us, but he’s referred to as Vittorino.”

The name rung in Ayu’s mind, though the vague memory of ‘Vittorino’ being said was something he could not find. However, at a halt of the scene, Akeldama bent down ever so slightly to Vittorino’s height, facing him eye to eye. Words were spoken to the young one, but unheard in the midst of Ayu. 

“There’s been rumors for ages,” Eilwen said, “that Akeldama picked him up because he was to be a religious sacrifice to the village. But, Vittorino never answered anything we asked.” 

The boy nodded to Akeldama before he was blurred away. Ayu blinked as he had not noticed Eilwen’s click. 

Alice appeared again, along with the young boy, in the darkest depths of the words. Laying against the tree, Vittorino hid from her. While she, peering up above him, attempted conversation. 

“To cope with her loss, Alice tried to get along with Vittorino and help him as the youngest in our society. Though, he never cooperated with her in the end, and grew more akin to Akeldama as years went by.” 

In distraction, Ayu peered his eyes to the setting around them. The abyss and blind color of the forest guided him nowhere, but the faint sense of the nightly color comforted him. A sense of ease cradled him in the unknown dark, while he wondered if that is why Vittorino hid in the land. 

“After the arrival of Vittorino, Akeldama seemed to have found another practical way of gaining followers.” Another child appeared from the dark in wandering, catching the attention of Alice. She eyed in shock with the blood found in vague sight on the kid. “Then started the second era, where he began handpicking and ‘rescuing’ children. Raising them to be sick and sinister.”

And just like that, the world disintegrated into the nothingness of the original room. “For the most part, Alice was left alone.” Ayu noticed Eilwen’s direction at him. “Then all of a sudden, she claimed she was going to have a child of hers and Christopher.”

“But-” 

“We imagined she’s gone mad, but once she explained herself, it seemed that the wish child was a blessing and a curse.”

Ayu gnawed his cheek in confusion. “But… how was he made then?”

“That is another thing I’m unable to say, sadly.” Sighing crept over her breath as she wrestled in her pockets. “And I believe that’s all you needed to know, correct?”

Ayu copied her pocketing movements. “Can’t tell if this was even useful or not. All I really know now is that Akeldama still sucks and Oliver seriously has a weird family.” 

“Well, that’s an excellent summary.” Eilwen walked across from him and onto the door, placing her hand on the handle. “Now then, Cecily should have had plenty of time to talk with Oliver. We should get going.” 

Before she could open the door, Ayu stopped her. “W-wait.”

“What is it?”

“How did you get here then? ‘Cause you told me about Alice and all her stuff.”

Eyes widened, she shuffled. “That’s rather unnecessary information.”

“But you were a part of this too.”

“I got here by the dumbest of means,” she spat. 

A light clicked in Ayu’s mind. “You were dumb too?”

“In all fairness, yes.” She squeezed onto the handle. “I was… in love with my dearest friend, and we were both poor peasants. Yet I was put in an arranged marriage for my family to have some riches, and I had to leave her behind.”

“But why did you come here?”

“Simple. I thought it was unfair for her to stay poor and Akeldama noticed. My contract was by the terms that she would take my place in life and have all the fortunes of food and luxuries.”

Ayu blinked. “That’s… really nice.”

She scowled. “It was my luck in living. If it weren’t for my contract, people would’ve claimed me as a witch for charming the noble and executed me.” Hustling against her jacket, her weak voice stated, “She took my place in the end.”

The implications in irony was far too much for Ayu to form words. 

A pause latched between the two of them, but before one could say a word, Eilwen opened the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

***

“Oh, Eilwen! You came at perfect timing!” Alice beamed with a worried smile. “I think just about wrapped up everything with Oliver.” They both were sitting down next to the cottage Ayu viewed in the past. Though before he could mention it, Eilwen walked by him and gave a few words to the other. 

“Please tell me everything went sufficiently.”

“I did all that you advised but you know I can’t speak like that!” Alice hissed in a pout.

A shake of the head and a groan later, “Everything I told you was simple and for you not to go too far.”

The women babbled to each other onwards of their time, to Ayu’s attentional dismay. In disinterest, he sat by Oliver, comfortable against the plain grass, and spoke to him. “I think I just had one of the weirdest history classes.”

With a hand on top of his mouth, Oliver replied, “Better than awkward talking and anxiety from an adult.”

“About what?”

“About me, but she was too nervous about saying anything.”

Glimpsing over to Alice excusing herself to Eilwen, and alongside memory of her past, he said, “Makes sense…” 

However, Oliver’s ears seemed to attend back to Alice and Eilwen in keen study. Ayu imitated. 

“What? You know he doesn’t like people knowing about him!” Alice exclaimed. 

But then came a sigh from Oliver. 

“What,” Ayu asked.

“Alice told me I had to ‘grow accustom’ to eating first before anything else.” 

Cringing shivered in Ayu’s reminder. And yet, the circumstances were dire regardless. “You’d have to at some point.”

“I know but,” he played with the end of his cardigan, “out of anyone here, you’d understand how tough it is.” 

Ayu shifted his gaze away. “I don’t think so.” He nodded at the women. “They seem pretty normal in thinking to me.” 

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but they could be tricking us, Ayu. They- they kill, so they can probably lie too.” 

Eilwen’s lesson flashed through his mind. I doubt it but… “I guess that’s true.” 

Silence evoked them again until Oliver asked suddenly, “What do you think I am, Ayu?” 

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” he shuffled in his seat, “I guess I’ve just been seen as a lot of things recently. Like a random kid; a monster; the son of immortal assassin parents, one being dead; a kind of intentional mistake; and a canine… it’s all messy. But what do you think?”

Ayu tapped on his feet in thought. Though the answer was quite simple. “I don’t know, Ollie. You’re just another person with a fucked-up life like me, maybe worse, right?”

Oliver shrugged and nodded.

“But I do wanna try and help a little. It’s the least I can do for anything right now.”

The boy, with his pale green eyes, stared at him for that bit of time, wide and light against the dimly grey background. And with his kindly eyes, he smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

-

Ten Dollars | Bread and Water | Red Eye | Crimson Capture | November 1st | A Mother | A Demon | A Child | The Wolf | Bloody Fingers | A Monochrome World | Next >>>

[fuckyeahcharmcaster]

Pot, Meet Kettle

So, was looking for more Charmcaster content and came upon these comments related to the reboot episode “What Rhymes With Omnitrix?”  And...wow. I won’t name names out of respect for privacy and will put this all under a cut so that only those interested can read it, but the hypocrisy here is just so mind-numbing that I needed to comment on it.

Kevin stans unwilling to admit to his faults, do not engage.

What she did to Kevin was not conning in any way, that was clearly and blatantly magical enslavement complete with chains, torture, and mindcontrol. You can’t just downplay that shit like this and expect me to go along with it, not when the sequel series already tended to pull that, especially with regards to Charmcaster doing that sorta shit. You do not get to blatantly show Kevin being forced to do things against his will, being tortured for fighting back, and then try to pass it off as him having been tricked into working with her. What the fuck is with this franchise with having Charm do horribly evil shit and then just waving it off?

Remind me: how much horribly evil shit did Kevin commit, even in the sequel series themselves where he was a good guy, that got downplayed, justified, waved off or swept under the rug? Murder, war profiteering, aiding other criminals when it suited his interests, letting his friends take the rap for his crimes, etc?  

Sequel series Charm was incredibly shitty, there’s no denying that, probably shittier than sequel series Kevin honestly given the sheer lack of consistency in her character and over-the-top extremes they had her go to. But guess what, that doesn’t make sequel series Kevin un-shitty. If you’re not holding the same standard to how they’re written, your argument loses credibility because it is intellectually dishonest.

More to the point, what about all of the crap that reboot Kevin has pulled? Does none of it bother you? Is him walking free sensible given the stuff he’s done? Ex: he enslaved Glitch, who is a sentient being, against his will twice. He wasn’t taken to task for it afterward, even though he felt no remorse and went on to do more evil deeds. Before getting controlled by Charm, he was about to beat Ben to death. And even before he got his Antitrix he was a vicious bully who traumatized Ben to the point of being scared of public bathrooms. So why is all of that excusable and you can “go along with it” when the show doesn’t dwell on any of it afterward, but you draw a line in the sand when Charm, a villain, does something bad to Kevin, another fucking villain? That’s like hating on Kevin for manipulating the Weatherheads or Steam Smythe and expecting the show to make a bigger deal out of that, or hating on Zombozo for screwing Vilgax over or hypnotizing Kevin and expecting the show to make a bigger deal out of that; it makes no logical sense. Villains are gonna villain, it’s what they do.

With Charmcaster, it was a case of Kevin trying to puff himself up and seem big and bad and Charm responding with ‘great, let me have your brain for my own’, followed by an episode of him fighting viciously against her control until she took 100% over. But he was ‘working with her’, the writers say. And given how much the sequel series were into brushing the awful shit she did under the rug, I really don’t have patience for it here.

Again, I ask if you’ve checked under Kevin’s rug from the sequel series lately. Lot of awful shit there. And if you had the patience for all of that, you can have the patience for this.

And as for what sparked this whole outburst, the ‘working with her’ thing was in reference to that in his puffing Kevin outright said that she ought to take control of him. She told him upfront that she wanted to control Ben against his will to have him attack Gwen, and told him to be on his way because he wasn’t Ben. Kevin could have gotten out unscathed. But, not thinking straight because of jealousy, he protested and said that she should want to control him because he’s more powerful. Charm’s response (basically “OK, if you insist!”) made him realize all too late what he had just said and what it actually meant would happen to him.

It’s not trying to excuse what Charm did as right or justifiable or undermine it in any way, it’s just acknowledging that Kevin also played a willful part in making it happen too due to his hate-boner for Ben, just as Charm did due to her hate-boner for Gwen.  He wasn’t just minding his own business until Charm up and took control of him for no reason: he was about to murder Ben and got accidentally pulled over to Charm who mistook him for Ben, she told him to leave when she realized her mistake, and then Kevin insisted that her plan to control Ben was dumb because Ben was weak; she should want him because he’s stronger. His claim of Charm “conning” him into getting controlled is him lying to himself about what happened, acting as though Charm deliberately manipulated his jealousy to make him say what he did, rather than admit that he had been a stupid, jealous kid who badly fucked up.

It’s not even that they don’t treat her as being in the wrong, it’s that they want her to both be redeemable and also to do things that may or may not be irredeemable. It’s a theme of every sequel series and now the reboot as well.

Except that Charmcaster hasn’t done anything remotely irredeemable in the reboot series. And if you think that she did, then you’re being intellectually dishonest because, again, Kevin has done literally the exact same things and usually for the exact same reasons. He’s not against controlling, enslaving, manipulating or relishing in inflicting pain on people either. He may not be a psychopath, but he still is written as lacking in basic empathy, just like Charm.

It was also absolutely a theme for him as well in the sequel series, probably even moreso since they did a whole fucking arc about it w/ Ultimate Kevin, where he did horrific things that were irredeemable and yet he’s still redeemed and those actions are swept under the rug with the whole “it wasn’t his fault, it was the energy he absorbed that made him do it!” excuse, which is the same kind of cop-out as the Alpha Rune was for sequel series Charmcaster. If you can buy wholesale into that excuse but can’t for the Alpha Rune, you are operating under a double standard. Either both are cases of awful character writing that exist purely for the writers to avoid having to write actual redemption arcs, or neither of them are. Pick one.

SO they have her do these things and then either sweep them under the rug, downplay the shit out of them, or tell us that we should feel sorry for her that she felt the need to do that.

....I...I really can’t right now.  I just can’t.

This literally describes Kevin too. Swap names and gender pronouns, and it’s the same.

And yet every time Kevin does something horrible, your reaction seems to be “oh, my son!”, sweeping it under the rug or downplaying it, and you feel sorry for him that he felt the need to do it; you still understand and sympathize with his troubled mental state regardless of what inexcusable acts of villainy it drives him to do. But when it’s Charmcaster? Fuck that bitch and cue violent fantasies of what Kevin should do to her for revenge just because he happened to be the victim of her actions (oh yeah, and about those: what the actual fuck!? Honestly, the hypocritical bitching about Charm being some kind of writers’ pet wouldn’t bug me half as much without this totally uncalled-for shit accompanying it.)

It sounds to me that this has nothing to do with morality: it has everything to do with a bias toward your fave and anger that he got hurt.  It sounds to me that Kevin can hurt Ben, Gwen, Grandpa Max, Glitch, or anyone else and you’re fine with it - heck, he can hurt Charm and you’re fine with it given the aforementioned fantasies. But when Kevin is hurt, the one who did it MUST be held accountable at every turn and suffer the painful consequences!

He’s your fave, I get it, but the emotions involved with that should not rule out objectivity. Nor should it fuel torture porn fantasies toward another character, especially a female child one who already has being physically abused by a boy as part of her goddamn backstory. (Humiliating slapstick like the show itself uses is fine though, she definitely deserves it.)

The way you are going about it, you come off as a pitiful MRA-type always bitching about how them damn women get away with everything and men get screwed as a result, even when it’s not at all reflective of reality. If you really think the writers of the Ben 10 franchise have historically held some kind of bias toward Charm and didn’t toward Kevin, then just look at Kevin’s screentime throughout the franchise compared to Charm and then come back at me with that shit (same goes for Gwen for that matter; stack her up against Ben and Kevin in terms of significant arcs, actions and development, and you’ll find she falls woefully short.)

And the thing is, for the reboot at least, she’s young enough I’m willing to give her some leeway, but the tempering damages that by making it feel like the writers don’t see what she does as an issue.

It’s not that the writers don’t see what she does as an issue. It’s that you see it as way too big of an issue while also not seeing the same thing happening with Kevin as an issue at all. It’s a double standard, pure and simple: Kevin is your fave and so he can get away with anything in your eyes and you don’t consider it to be troubling writing if he gets let off with a slap on the wrist for it. But you can’t do the same for Charm because she’s not your fave and - more importantly - Kevin is negatively impacted by what she does. If he wasn’t, then I’m pretty damn sure that no evil deed she commits would actually bother you at all. You want the show to fixate on how evil what she did was not because you hold some standard against magical mental enslavement in general, but because you’re angry that she did it to Kevin. This is all about you taking offense on behalf of your fave, not about the writers messing up in any way.

And before anyone gets on my case for bashing Kevin, I’m not! I love reboot Kevin! None of what I described above about him bothers me in any way because I can look at him objectively and enjoy him as the troubled but undeniably nasty little shit that he is, just as I do with reboot Charm. They’re both villains who do villainous things, and the show’s lax attitude toward it is due to its light-hearted tone and the fact that they’re both children (ditto for the likes of Billy Billions and Simon Sez). But more to the point, they’re supposed to be hypocrites in regards to each other, because what they hate about each other is actually the worst of themselves reflected right back at them. They are the same kind of person and they project like crazy, this is a certified fact per Word of God. Their FANS, however, shouldn’t be following their example because they ought to be smarter and more mature than that.

It goes all the way back to this post, and what I said there still applies: Why are male characters allowed to be bitter, angry, hateful, vengeful, insolent, insulting, anti-social, violent and manipulative without reproach while female characters always get demonized for it?  Why does such behavior in a male character get the “my precious son!” reaction, while the exact same behavior in a female character get the “that horrible bitch!” reaction? Why are bad things a female character does to a male character considered irredeemably awful, but what bad things that male character might do to her for revenge considered an appealing fantasy and totally justified? Why can a male character be allowed nuance despite their deplorable acts of villainy, and yet when it’s done with a female character it’s proof that “the writers don’t get that what she did was wrong because otherwise why try to make her appealing or sympathetic in any way?” Why this double standard?

I don’t know, but I do know that it’s wrong and I am not here for it.

Tl;dr: don’t hate on Charm for things your fave is equally guilty of or things that a witch-themed supervillain is gonna naturally do just because it’s your fave who gets hurt by it.

[devilbat]

Asgardain Heir, chapter 29

Warnings: just fluff and last Chapter. 💔

You stood there in the god awful outfit waiting for your target to arrive. You really wanted to kill Director Fury for putting you in this thing. Were you really, ready for a mission? So soon. Sure all the new scare were gone thanks to Tony’s nanotechnology. You couldn’t tell that you lost skin around your ankles. Tony and Bruce had worked non stop to get you some what back together. Minus Clint that little torturous asshole, They had been the biggest help. You still were trying to find Clint to murder him.

Nat came to visit you while you were still mending she apologized for her pushing you on the loki thing. You apologized to her as well. What happened between you and Bucky was never brought up. You felt bad for him know he pined over you. But your feeling were still else where. Perhaps with a certain god. After all he did break a few treaties with earth just to save you. Thor had told you everything. You may have wanted to kill the God of mischief for putting a tracking device in that Necklace. But it did help him and Thor find you.

Think of everything that had happened, while you waited in the darkened corner for you target. You watched the one other person in the room. Though he knew you were there, beings he was part of this mission. You did miss Thor it had been a few months since you saw him lasted. He had told you how loki was doing before he left back to Asgard. You felt a ping in your gut, you missed Asgard all the colors, you missed that death trap of a bridge too. You target moved into the room. As he went to talk with your partner.

—————

Loki was in the golden room with Heimdall. After Thor brought good news to him, he had started to go to Heimdall asking if he saw you, asking how you were doing. The gate keeper would tell him how your progress was. He told loki ever detail he could. It was all Loki wanted. Even though he really wasn’t allowed in the room as part of a deal with Odin. But this was loki. And even though Heimdall could get in trouble as well. He still let loki in the room to watch how you were doing. Some times the young god would wounded if you spoke of him or even thought about him. He did have his hopes even though he knew better.

“Heimdall,” Loki greeted the gate keeps. As always Heimdall was ready for loki his sword put into place like a key, to look into other realm. “How is my darling today?” Looked out at the vast stars. Smiling just to hear about your stubbornness. He was happy that it never died.

“I she is doing well, she left for her mission the other day, wit...” Heimdall trailed off he froze his golden eye moved rapidly. “My prince I do not see her.” Loki started to tense up. If the gate keeper could not see you. Then you had to be in some sort of danger or worse.

—————-

“So apparently,” you paused, Pushing your hip from the wall, walking towards your the tall figure that you assumed was your target. “Your dumb ass, couldn’t stay out of trouble for five minutes while I’m away. Now I’m here having to babysit your ass again.” You smirked while you watched the man slowly turn around. Loki looked at you in shock. He thought you were an Illinois. Why would you be back. A smirk spread a crossed your face at the stunned god. “What cat got that silver tongue of yours?”

“I will take my leave.” You heard Heimdall speak but Loki never looked over at him he was fixated on you. You nodded towards the gate keeper. As he left the golden room as he waited on the rainbow bridge.

“So,” You looked around. Trying to figure out what to say or do next ,as Loki stared at you. You thought he would be happy to see you. You now weren’t sure if he wanted you there. “I decided to come back. Not just because you some broke treaties to save me. Thank you by the way, for that. I was..” You were cut off by the god, grabbing ahold of your lips with his own. His hand holding on to your chin while his other snaked around your waist. Your hands found their way around his neck. There was more passion in that signal kiss then ever. Loki’s forehead rested against. You hadn’t realized it yet but Loki used his magic, placing you both in his chambers. To be alone, even if it was for you to kick his ass.

“If I knew they were sending you as my punishment, then I might have been a little more mischievous.” He smirked, taking a deep breath pulling in your scent then he long missed.

“Loki, you killed someone! I think that gets as mischievous as it could. But thank you.” You sighed as you kissed Loki once more. “Though this doesn’t look like my room.” You pulled away from him.

“Well Darling, as everyone seems to tell me I did Break a few treaties, I figured you would want to keep an extra close eye one me. Perhaps you’ll need to shear my bed. Never know what mischief I could get into without my Guard watching over me.” He smirked.

“Hey mister just because I’m back doesn’t mean you get to have your way with me every night.” You hissed playfully. His grasp on you got tighter. His smirk becomes more devilish. As you felt his bed behind you. Damn him and his tricks.

“Mmm, not every night I must save days as well Pet.” He mumbled as his lips worked there way along your neck. His hand roamed over your covered body freely. You moaned. How much you didn’t know you missed his touch.

“Just remember there handsy, I still have my knives on me. Don’t think this dress is going to stop me from kick your ass.” You gasped out trying to hold on to some control.

“I do have to say my colors look stunning on you. I really do think you’ll be only wearing dresses for your king.”

“Ah slow down there buddy, your a prince still. I do not want another New York incident, like the last.” You pushes Loki’s hands away. Which only caused him to chuckle darkly.

“The only thing I want to rule over is your body. Now be a good little Midgard and kneel before me.” He commanded.

“I think you got me confused with someone weaker then you. It should be you, who kneels before me.” You rolled your eyes. And without warning, Loki fell to his knees lifting your dress up and over his head. His hand grasped tightly around your thighs. You grabbed a hold of his head before losing balance. “Oh god.” Was all you moaned out.

———-

It had been two years since you arrived on Asgard. It was still a Learning curve. As you walked along the market with Lady Sif, the both of you became friends and would spare from time to time. She taught you how to wield a sword. And you taught her hand to hand. It was mid fall Asgard. Loki had been behaving himself with everyone, but you. That little shit. You found yourself in all sorts of “trouble” with him. He did redeem himself and became prince of Asgard once again. His former self. Thanks to you. Odin had finally welcomed you more now that you and Loki started “courting” in his words. That and the way you brought Loki peace after everything.

It was hard for you to act like a lady of the court, as most people would call you, now that they knew who you were. And soon it would be not just lady y/n, but princess y/n loki’s wife, sisters-in-law to the mighty Thor. Something that you were not ready for, nor did you want the title. The first time loki called you princess, he found himself in a very painful position when you throwing knife met his grind. And it took about the same amount of time to finally convince Fandral that he didn’t have a chance in hel with you. You didn’t have to threaten his manhood as often now. Though he dose occasionally still tried to woo you away from Loki.

After you had returned to Asgard and to loki. You still had trouble sleeping at night. Most nights you wouldn’t sleep, which worried loki and other nights Loki would wake up with you thrashing around in your sleep trying to fight off you horrific past. Like the first time Loki had experience this with you, he would help you through it. Though it may have cause some injury to the god himself it was nothing that wouldn’t easily healed. Now you sleep at night with out nightmares and most of your old scares had seemed to slowly disappear. Though even after everything loki was still very protective over you at times, this annoyed you. It was still something you were not used to.

You were happy with the God of mischief. You never thought the day would come you would settle down with man, let alone a god. But here you were on another realm, about to marry a god, a prince and a Frost Giant. In other words your dumb ass was about to marry an Alien for another planet, if you looked at this logically. Peter may have teased you about that and the hole baby alien bursting out of your chest. But that didn’t matter. You stood there watched loki as he was dressed in his black, green and gold armor, his horns resting on top of his head. His brother Thor by his side with a biggest grin on his face. Odin stood center next to his son’s as They waited. When Loki say you he smiled he heart pounded in his chest. You were simply breathtaking, as you took your first steps down a gold carpet, towards your new life.

@kitkatkl @lokilvrr @instantnoodlese @drakesfiance @meyoko10 @jackheart180 @miraclesoflove @wolfcore227, @mr-hiddlestons-pet @madleiine

@jpat82

Tom/Loki Tag’s: @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime

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[hennythejetsmith]

Window Part One

Water raced down the glass as the storm ensued. I likened the drops to stars as I peered through the window toward the sky. A reflection of heaven in the form of her tears as I created my own constellations. This four-sided room repelled summer’s petrichor; it was the first rain of the season. The rain drummed ever so slightly on the pane as if it waited for Miles Davis’ trumpet to accompany the lulling rhythm; where were the aristocrats & lovers of jazz to slow dance the night away. Ironically, Jim Hall’s Concierto De Aranjuez played on in the background & I cherished the lasting memory of her I had; a lone orchid catty-corner the looking glass aka my escape. A crack of the window was okay for fresh air every so often, but I preferred her fragrance, he flower that is. As if it were the rose & I were the beast, the glow mustn’t ever die out, even as she went on to love another. I still love her y’know? Of course, I’d never muster the strength to mutter out a single indication of such for wallowing in this unrequited torment truly is a pastime of mine.

 The lavender futon held many a soul captive that fell victim to its underappreciated comfort. Through a torrential downpour, you could see a young man, maybe in his early 20s, rise into view & disappear into what looked like a college kid’s dorm or contemporary minimalist coffee shop. From ground level, you could vaguely see strung up lightbulbs, thumbtacked polaroid photos, & what looked like an unfinished canvas. The neighbors knew little of this “millennial,” though he subscribed to ideal of unsubscribing to labels. Placing citizens in categories based on their birthyear may work for some on a literal level, but the soul itself, transcends the confines of any linear time period. A quick gander outside & he turned his back as he vanished from eyesight of any bystander. A quiet little suburban area is where he’d come home to rest at night. He never really uttered much but a “hello, how are you?” to those that lived aside him. If you were quiet enough, the keys of a piano would faintly soothe the mind & relieve you of the bustle of real life between the drywall that separated the humble town home from the others.

 “My hair is a mess,” a quiet thought to myself staring at the looking glass. The bronze & gold finish around the mirror is a bit tacky; I could’ve done without this.

           He shrugged his shoulders in complacency & carried on.

Vivacious, just as it was when she first brought you in here, my love. Just like her, beauty unparallel. I imagine right now, she has nestled up under her sill as her rosy lips are kissed ever so gently by summer’s breeze. How am I to compete as nature nurtures her very being? A love affair where I quietly, yet graciously, am on the outside as the third wheel.

           His mind rarely took the time to be sit by itself, even as he did externally. The image of she & he had internally been etched onto his consciousness’s wallpaper.

The inkwell seems to be refilling, where have my pen & notebook ran off to? They too, in some sort of flirtatious dalliance & I am nothing but the conduit for their interaction; not that it bothers me.

           He reached for a string to lower the shutters in his room. A sense of intimacy was needed that the world could not witness, according to him at least. The surrounding periwinkle paint provided a calm as a neon “Good Vibes” shone light juxtaposed the outer gloomy sky blocking out the moon. The clean-cut young adult reached to the right of his futon alongside the right wall of his room & grabbed a green notebook. “CVS” adorned on the bottom right of the pad really did not mean much alone but intertwined with the midnight trips for juice & snacks, his heart would skip a beat as his eyes skirted across the cover. It truly was the simple things that would get him. He really loved her. He flipped open to a random page with a ball point pen resting on the coiled bounds of the book. One last stare at the orchid that rest in the corner of his room & his lids covered his eyes. Reaching for his pen, he seemed to be in some sort of trance, becoming a body chattel for some higher being as words begun to scribble across the college-ruled paper.

 Your silence is deafening.

Am I to be at fault

For knowing not that to gift you with my heart

Would leave me in joyous ruin?

 An endless current; yet presentably stoic. No one shall ever know of the affinity I have for you still. Deceit is my greatest weapon & these pages remain privy to myself only. Short & sweet this time I see; reminiscent to the inevitable beginning & end of our fiery passion.

                              _______________________________________________

   Coins clink together, sirens ring non-stop, lights flicker on & off like some rave, but all I see is her flowing cinnamon hair & feel the soft touch of her hand. She told me she had always wanted to play Ms. Pac-Man in a genuine arcade, but never had the chance. I cannot seem to remember her name, but the crescent inked on the back of her neck, Luna could be a moniker until my memory decides to refresh itself. I have doomed myself to be labeled some male chauvinist pig objectifying her for the night. Fuck, I must think of somethi-

           “Hey, so are you ready to lose?”

           “I really do not think you know what you are getting yourself into Luna. Sorry, I saw the tattoo on the back of your neck & couldn’t help it. I hope you do not take offense.”

           “Oh, no. It’s okay.” Whew, dodged one bullet, now to remem-

           “My name, by the way, is Ana. That was your last chance to forget.”

Despite the fluorescent bulbs incessant flashing, my eyes are fixated on you Ana. Subtle, yet sent straight to my spine; forget your name, never again will I.

           “How did you know?”

As Ana chuckles, she responds,

           “Because you just told me.” She laughs again & proceeds past the row to what seems to be an endless amount of ski ball tables. With all the calamity surrounding us, all I could hear was the sound of her voice. Softly fluttering atop my ear drums akin to the late great Amy Winehouse.

           “Really a shame what has to happen here. You sure you don’t want to hop in the Jurassic Park game? That’ll be fairer considering I haven’t played that since my Chuck E. Cheese days.” No response as we traverse the litter of children & adolescence. I can hear the chains rattling from the basketball games in the corner; I watch the tickets fall out of the Whack-A-Mole; I wonder how many tries before that bonus tickets slot is hit on that one game all the kids want to play. 500 tickets for the bonus is pretty good, I’m sure someone will be lucky enough.

 There was no line for the Ms. Pac-Man placed in the back corner. Most kids were more concerned not with the classics but winning the prizes behind the counter. Playstation 4s & the new Xboxes were for the top ticket getters alongside the motor scooter that seemed to have been collecting dust for quite some time. It was a bit smoky in Kat’s 24-hour arcade. Marijuana smoke was a lot less bothersome to her than tobacco though. Whenever she smelt a hint of cigarette, the lights came on & the games shut down until the culprit was found & removed hastily. Some nights, she closed early because no one wanted to come forward. She made sure the kids were out by 9 o’clock pm, some snuck around after, because she knew that grown folks too, loved to play video games to escape the endless cycles that left so many of her regulars entrapped. Their cynicism & vitriol toward their very own lives brought tears to her eyes every so often. So, she decided to invest in giving others a chance to relive their childhoods. Kat always sat in the back on her wooden stool next to the NBA JAM, her favorite. You wouldn’t know that she was a huge Orlando magic fan living up north in the Big Apple. Always a chip on her shoulder from the “what if” with Shaq & Penny. Tonight, was no different; she was sitting in the back, watching highlights from their golden era as a couple zoomed right by headed straight for Ms. Pac-Man. For a second, she was distracted due to how young they looked.

           “Hmph, at least some of these ‘millennials’ know a little bit about nothing,” she thought to herself as she refocused back to “The Youtube.”

 I really underestimated her. All I hear is waka-waka-waka-waka; all I see are intermissions & level design changes; & I feel that I am about to lose! Maintaining composure is key, but she has not lost a single life & now a random assortment of fruits is dispersing through maze openings like an opened pack of Runts. She has absolute control of the screen & it’s as if she flows effortlessly with the ghosts; she is one with Ms. Pac-Man.

           “It’s your turn. You don’t have to be astonished anymore. I tried to warn you, but you didn’t want to listen. Sol.”

She slid to the side as it was my turn. No way that I take an early loss. She’s at about 43,000 already before my first go around.

           “Sol?”

           “Well, it would only be right to call you Sol, considering you named me Luna. Or are you unaware of the moon’s opposite Shawn?”

           “I mean, it seems you haven’t forgotten my name.”

           “It would be rude to do so. We all can’t be you, now can we?”

Is she being serious? Or is this a sarcastic barrage to distract me fro-well that is the end of my turn.

           “Well played. Ana.”

She smiled in a snark manner. Who are you & what is this fluttery feeling in my stomach?

                              _______________________________________________

   “To play into a stalemate is the goal here. I am at a severe disadvantage right now,” Shawn thought to himself as he eyed the dual-colored board. Erratic sleep patterns would leave him in states of melancholy that were relieved with doses of chess: mano y mano. His opponent, usually visible not to the naked eye, unless a photographer had photoshopped a still image of himself imposed on the wall. Each piece calculated & moved while simultaneously calculating how many moves would no longer stall his inner peace before sunrise. The shadows on his wall were not envious as they watched with morose endurance. They murmured amongst themselves questioning if she were to ever return, but not even the remnants of her no longer played on the periwinkle walls in his sleep. Piece after piece was removed from the board as the stars laid down to rest. His eyes never wavered until 2 Kings remained atop the wooden square. The moon peaked through the blinders, shed a tear, & blew a kiss before she too, disappeared in the morning. Sometimes, she kept an eye on him & the sun was a bit jealous of their connection. He did not know what the moon saw in Shawn. The megastar’s bitterness brought forth a chilly June day. A purple windbreaker & sweat shorts were enough to combat back. A bit unusual, but no deterrence as Shawn strolled past the emerald green lawns & lush trees; much the same to some family-oriented television sitcom. Shawn was unaware that a smile crept up on his face, but the neighbors took notice & waved as he quickened his pace down the side walk. Blue jays harmonized in the air above him as he eyed butterflies frolic through the air & he suddenly stopped in his tracks…

                               _______________________________________________

   Melted together where the colors of the carnival as Shawn felt Ana clinch onto his arm & the body-sized tiger that came between them as the teacup frantically span the three into a muzzy state of joy.

           “You two look like a real-time version of Calvin & Hobbs. Carmen & Hobbs is what I’ll call you two.”

Shawn had gotten a little more comfortable with Ana after a few dates. She scornfully stared a hole into his forehead.

           “You still haven’t gotten over that Ms. Pac-Man beating have you? It’s okay, one day the shattered ego you have will finally be content. Until that day, I will starve that small little man that screams inside of your mind until it is victory you concede & you melt into the putty I envision you to mold you into the sculpted man I truly desire. Right now, this is just the waiting game. You were distracted too easily to converse when we were in the heat of war. Your loss.”

Her tongue was paint, or acid, her choice. He, simply, was a blank canvas for her liking at this very moment.

“Maybe, its more so that you’ve chosen to indulge a bit too deeply in the appetizer that I handfed you with the victory I allowed you to have. Whose to say your victory wasn’t fixed?”

           “All speculation. Of course, this type of allegation you would lean on to save face. Very Tim Donaghy of you Shawn. I’m disappointed.”

           “I mean, since that point, your victories have become few & far between. Even that night, pinball, clear-cut win in my column. Air Hockey was a 7-0 skunk. Basketball wasn’t even a challenge. Donaghy? Really?”

           “See how two of those three play to your advantage, with maybe the exception of air hockey because the table is even, but your physical strength gives you an advantage when you decide that my whole became a target & your…whatever they are called, because an AK-47 as you fired the puck with no restraint? How does fried victory taste? Hopefully as nutritious as a microwavable patty covered in barbecue sauce people clamor on about.”

           “Doesn’t matter its value, because in that moment it tastes so fucking good, I care not for the bigger picture there, but enjoying the RIGHT NOW!”

 The two had not noticed that all eyes in the carnival had locked onto their jawing match. That did not matter now, Ana’s curly brown & auburn hair had become vibrant & through her glasses, he glared directly into her darkened eyes & she too, was magnetized by his. Tension in the air was still as many were frozen, not knowing what was next. A vein in his neck pulsated as sweat trickled down her brow. Both, instantaneously after realizing what this was, scurried off to the closest blackened corridor. They found an absent alley by a Ferris Wheel ridden by many. Ana dropped her Hobbs in withered grass & turned her back to the wall as Shawn gripped her hip & both their full lips met in passion. Onlookers cheered from the skyline as they snapped back to reality, simmering their immature fervor.

           “Really? Our first kiss comes from your antagonistic… never mind. You wi… oh wait, you won’t get me that easily.”

           “I’ve already won,” she responded. “The moment I led you through Kat’s doors. I felt it. That doesn’t matter now, shut up & kiss me.”

                               _______________________________________________

[gemtv00]

Serial Killers

Countess Erszebet Bathory was a breathtakingly beautiful, unusually well-educated woman, married to a descendant of Vlad Dracula of Bram Stoker fame. In 1611, she was tried - though, being a noblewoman, not convicted - in Hungary for slaughtering 612 young girls. The true figure may have been 40-100, though the Countess recorded in her diary more than 610 girls and 50 bodies were found in her estate when it was raided.

The Countess was notorious as an inhuman sadist long before her hygienic fixation. She once ordered the mouth of a talkative servant sewn. It is rumoured that in her childhood she witnessed a gypsy being sewn into a horse's stomach and left to die.

The girls were not killed outright. They were kept in a dungeon and repeatedly pierced, prodded, pricked, and cut. The Countess may have bitten chunks of flesh off their bodies while alive. She is said to have bathed and showered in their blood in the mistaken belief that she could thus slow down the aging process.

Her servants were executed, their bodies burnt and their ashes scattered. Being royalty, she was merely confined to her bedroom until she died in 1614. For a hundred years after her death, by royal decree, mentioning her name in Hungary was a crime.

Cases like Barothy's give the lie to the assumption that serial killers are a modern - or even post-modern - phenomenon, a cultural-societal construct, a by-product of urban alienation, Althusserian interpellation, and media glamorization. Serial killers are, indeed, largely made, not born. But they are spawned by every culture and society, molded by the idiosyncrasies of every period as well as by their personal circumstances and genetic makeup.

Still, every crop of serial killers mirrors and reifies the pathologies of the milieu, the depravity of the Zeitgeist, and the malignancies of the Leitkultur. The choice of weapons, the identity and range of the victims, the methodology of murder, the disposal of the bodies, the geography, the sexual perversions and paraphilias - are all informed and inspired by the slayer's environment, upbringing, community, socialization, education, peer group, sexual orientation, religious convictions, and personal narrative. Movies like "Born Killers", "Man Bites Dog", "Copycat", and the Hannibal Lecter series captured this truth.

Serial killers are the quiddity and quintessence of malignant narcissism.

Yet, to some degree, we all are narcissists. Primary narcissism is a universal and inescapable developmental phase. Narcissistic traits are common and often culturally condoned. To this extent, serial killers are merely our reflection through a glass darkly. More here gemtv serial

In their book "Personality Disorders in Modern Life", Theodore Millon and Roger Davis attribute pathological narcissism to "a society that stresses individualism and self-gratification at the expense of community ... In an individualistic culture, the narcissist is 'God's gift to the world'. In a collectivist society, the narcissist is 'God's gift to the collective'".

Lasch described the narcissistic landscape thus (in "The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an age of Diminishing Expectations", 1979):

"The new narcissist is haunted not by guilt but by anxiety. He seeks not to inflict his own certainties on others but to find a meaning in life. Liberated from the superstitions of the past, he doubts even the reality of his own existence ... His sexual attitudes are permissive rather than puritanical, even though his emancipation from ancient taboos brings him no sexual peace.

Fiercely competitive in his demand for approval and acclaim, he distrusts competition because he associates it unconsciously with an unbridled urge to destroy ... He (harbours) deeply antisocial impulses. He praises respect for rules and regulations in the secret belief that they do not apply to himself. Acquisitive in the sense that his cravings have no limits, he ... demands immediate gratification and lives in a state of restless, perpetually unsatisfied desire."

The narcissist's pronounced lack of empathy, off-handed exploitativeness, grandiose fantasies and uncompromising sense of entitlement make him treat all people as though they were objects (he "objectifies" people). The narcissist regards others as either useful conduits for and sources of narcissistic supply (attention, adulation, etc.) - or as extensions of himself.

Similarly, serial killers often mutilate their victims and abscond with trophies - usually, body parts. Some of them have been known to eat the organs they have ripped - an act of merging with the dead and assimilating them through digestion. They treat their victims as some children do their rag dolls.

Killing the victim - often capturing him or her on film before the murder - is a form of exerting unmitigated, absolute, and irreversible control over it. The serial killer aspires to "freeze time" in the still perfection that he has choreographed. The victim is motionless and defenseless. The killer attains long sought "object permanence". The victim is unlikely to run on the serial assassin, or vanish as earlier objects in the killer's life (e.g., his parents) have done.

In malignant narcissism, the true self of the narcissist is replaced by a false construct, imbued with omnipotence, omniscience, and omnipresence. The narcissist's thinking is magical and infantile. He feels immune to the consequences of his own actions. Yet, this very source of apparently superhuman fortitude is also the narcissist's Achilles heel.

The narcissist's personality is chaotic. His defense mechanisms are primitive. The whole edifice is precariously balanced on pillars of denial, splitting, projection, rationalization, and projective identification. Narcissistic injuries - life crises, such as abandonment, divorce, financial difficulties, incarceration, public opprobrium - can bring the whole thing tumbling down. The narcissist cannot afford to be rejected, spurned, insulted, hurt, resisted, criticized, or disagreed with.

Likewise, the serial killer is trying desperately to avoid a painful relationship with his object of desire. He is terrified of being abandoned or humiliated, exposed for what he is and then discarded. Many killers often have sex - the ultimate form of intimacy - with the corpses of their victims. Objectification and mutilation allow for unchallenged possession.

Devoid of the ability to empathize, permeated by haughty feelings of superiority and uniqueness, the narcissist cannot put himself in someone else's shoes, or even imagine what it means. The very experience of being human is alien to the narcissist whose invented False Self is always to the fore, cutting him off from the rich panoply of human emotions.

Thus, the narcissist believes that all people are narcissists. Many serial killers believe that killing is the way of the world. Everyone would kill if they could or were given the chance to do so. Such killers are convinced that they are more honest and open about their desires and, thus, morally superior. They hold others in contempt for being conforming hypocrites, cowed into submission by an overweening establishment or society.

The narcissist seeks to adapt society in general - and meaningful others in particular - to his needs. He regards himself as the epitome of perfection, a yardstick against which he measures everyone, a benchmark of excellence to be emulated. He acts the guru, the sage, the "psychotherapist", the "expert", the objective observer of human affairs. He diagnoses the "faults" and "pathologies" of people around him and "helps" them "improve", "change", "evolve", and "succeed" - i.e., conform to the narcissist's vision and wishes.

Serial killers also "improve" their victims - slain, intimate objects - by "purifying" them, removing "imperfections", depersonalizing and dehumanizing them. This type of killer saves its victims from degeneration and degradation, from evil and from sin, in short: from a fate worse than death.

The killer's megalomania manifests at this stage. He claims to possess, or have access to, higher knowledge and morality. The killer is a special being and the victim is "chosen" and should be grateful for it. The killer often finds the victim's ingratitude irritating, though sadly predictable.

In his seminal work, "Aberrations of Sexual Life" (originally: "Psychopathia Sexualis"), quoted in the book "Jack the Ripper" by Donald Rumbelow, Kraft-Ebbing offers this observation:

"The perverse urge in murders for pleasure does not solely aim at causing the victim pain and - most acute injury of all - death, but that the real meaning of the action consists in, to a certain extent, imitating, though perverted into a monstrous and ghastly form, the act of defloration. It is for this reason that an essential component ... is the employment of a sharp cutting weapon; the victim has to be pierced, slit, even chopped up ... The chief wounds are inflicted in the stomach region and, in many cases, the fatal cuts run from the vagina into the abdomen. In boys an artificial vagina is even made ... One can connect a fetishistic element too with this process of hacking ... inasmuch as parts of the body are removed and ... made into a collection."

Yet, the sexuality of the serial, psychopathic, killer is self-directed. His victims are props, extensions, aides, objects, and symbols. He interacts with them ritually and, either before or after the act, transforms his diseased inner dialog into a self-consistent extraneous catechism. The narcissist is equally auto-erotic. In the sexual act, he merely masturbates with other - living - people's bodies.

The narcissist's life is a giant repetition complex. In a doomed attempt to resolve early conflicts with significant others, the narcissist resorts to a restricted repertoire of coping strategies, defense mechanisms, and behaviors. He seeks to recreate his past in each and every new relationship and interaction. Inevitably, the narcissist is invariably confronted with the same outcomes. This recurrence only reinforces the narcissist's rigid reactive patterns and deep-set beliefs. It is a vicious, intractable, cycle.

Correspondingly, in some cases of serial killers, the murder ritual seemed to have recreated earlier conflicts with meaningful objects, such as parents, authority figures, or peers. The outcome of the replay is different to the original, though. This time, the killer dominates the situation.

The killings allow him to inflict abuse and trauma on others rather than be abused and traumatized. He outwits and taunts figures of authority - the police, for instance. As far as the killer is concerned, he is merely "getting back" at society for what it did to him. It is a form of poetic justice, a balancing of the books, and, therefore, a "good" thing. The murder is cathartic and allows the killer to release hitherto repressed and pathologically transformed aggression - in the form of hate, rage, and envy.

But repeated acts of escalating gore fail to alleviate the killer's overwhelming anxiety and depression. He seeks to vindicate his negative introjects and sadistic superego by being caught and punished. The serial killer tightens the proverbial noose around his neck by interacting with law enforcement agencies and the media and thus providing them with clues as to his identity and whereabouts. When apprehended, most serial assassins experience a great sense of relief.

Serial killers are not the only objectifiers - people who treat others as objects. To some extent, leaders of all sorts - political, military, or corporate - do the same. In a range of demanding professions - surgeons, medical doctors, judges, law enforcement agents - objectification efficiently fends off attendant horror and anxiety.

Yet, serial killers are different. They represent a dual failure - of their own development as full-fledged, productive individuals - and of the culture and society they grow in. In a pathologically narcissistic civilization - social anomies proliferate. Such societies breed malignant objectifiers - people devoid of empathy - also known as "narcissists".

[witchand2cats-blog]

Tarot Card A Day

Like most witches, I’ve experimented with tarot cards before, but I’ve never put in the time to really learn them. I’ve decided to change that. I’m going to focus on one randomly drawn card each day, starting with the Major Arcana. Feel free to study along with me!

Day 2: The Devil

lust

bondage

imbalanced relationships

sex/money/power

kinkiness

unable to sever ties

obsession

debauchery

Upright: Bondage, addiction, sexuality, materialismReversed: Detachment, breaking free, power reclaimed

DEVIL TAROT CARD MEANINGS AND DESCRIPTION

The card of the Devil portrays a Satyr, a creature that is half man and half goat. In many myths, the goat was considered an unclean and lustful animal. However, the goat also symbolises the scapegoat, the person or thing upon which people project the inferior side of themselves in order to feel better about themselves. Thus the Devil is the scapegoat we blame for our troubles in life.The Devil has the wings of a vampire bat, an animal that sucks the life blood out of its prey. This is symbolic of what happens when we give full reign to the realm of our raw desires. We lose our vitality and life energy. The Devil has an almost hypnotic stare, bringing those who come near him within his power. Above him is an inverted pentagram, signifying the darker side of magic and occultism.At the foot of the Devil stands a man and a woman, both naked and chained to the podium on which the Devil sits. They appear to be held here, against their will, but only closer observation, the chains around their necks are loose and could be easily removed. This symbolises that bondage to the Devil is ultimately a voluntary matter which consciousness can release. The man and woman wear tiny horns like those of the Satyr – they are becoming more and more like the devil the longer they stay here. Both have tails – a further symbol of their animalistic or 'lower' tendencies.The dark and doorless cave implies that the Devil dwells in the most inaccessible realm of the unconscious and only crisis can break through the walls.The number 15 in numerology equals 6, the number that corresponds to the Lovers, and here the lovers are shown chained, in bondage to the material, sensual side of their nature. This card is ruled by Capricorn, the goat.

UPRIGHT DEVIL TAROT CARD MEANINGSThe card of the Devil represents the hidden forces of negativity that constrain you and that trick you into thinking you are imprisoned by external forces ultimately out of your control. The Devil is an inner force within each of us. He represents our fears, addictions, and other harmful impulses. He is a master of deception and creates the illusion that you are involuntarily bound to him. However, the figures in this card are free to remove the chains from around their necks, indicating that they have freely given the Devil any power he has over them.When you see the Devil in a reading, ask yourself where you are feeling stuck or restricted in your life. You may be tricked into believing that you are being controlled by external forces when in fact you have created your own chains of imprisonment and powerlessness. A sense of hopelessness can accompany the Devil. You feel despair and have a pessimistic view of life because you feel that so much is outside of your control. You fear the worst, and this means that your fears have a hold over you and prevent you from leading a more fulfilling and optimistic life. What are the addictions or attachments restraining you from experiencing the freedom of the Fool? Are you giving yourself over to the illusion of helplessness and despair? Know that you have the power within to free yourself from the bondage of the Devil.The Devil often reflects actual addictions and dependencies in your life, such as alcoholism, drug-taking, unhealthy relationships, over-spending and the like. You think you need something and you are willing to go against what you know to be right and true in order to obtain it. You need to break free of these negative patterns of behaviour by acknowledging the hold that they have over you and the negative impact they are having on your life. Often they are behaviours that are immediately gratifying but which cause longer-term damage to your inner fulfilment More generally, the Devil indicates that you are becoming obsessed and hell-bent on a particular idea, situation or endeavour. You are over-investing yourself in one area at the expense of other areas of your life. Often, the Devil card represents an over-dependence on material wealth. You may have become so fixated on becoming a millionaire or owning a fancy car that you have forgotten the importance of investing in your relationships or yourself. You have generated a belief that value lies in how much you earn or how much you own. You have created an unhealthy bond with these materialistic desires and you are now being controlled by this bondage.

(biddytarot.com)

[thegoddamnowl]

LIST OF MY OC

BX-016 “Vix”

One workaholic mellow fellow

Vix is currently an officer working for the law as an investigator. Although she seems rather stern and serious at work, in reality she’s quite calm and gentle, as well patient with anyone. Having a very human-like personality, she enjoys the simple things of life. However, she can get fixated too much into things at times and also hides a temper under that wall of patience. As long as you don’t remind her of her status as a machine, you’ll be fine.

Being a robot, she’s a custom-model gynoid on a mass-production frame, meaning that her internals are completely different from those of commercial models but contained in a (outdated but functional) commercial frame

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag

Owl

Always on his little big universe

Quite a strange individual, Owl commonly seems to not operate within normal logic or reason. Sometimes snappy, sometimes slow, always with a lot of things on his mind that may or may not make sense, he can be difficult to understand or reason with for anyone.

He’s more of a snarky grump with the personality of a grandpa, but he can be childish and active, as well as entertaining and partake into activities that others can consider fun, though he’d “rather avoid the fatigue” and stay away reading or just doing “Owl things”.

He actually doesn’t shun interaction with others. Although he’s open to company, he’d rather stay among friends and known people or just alone if he feels like it. He spends most of his time with his partner Kitty, whom which he grew up with.

Since he’s mute, he resorts to alternative and sometimes rather amusing ways of communication. He’s got a scar on his left eye

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag

Kitty

Sassy but caring

If Owl is a loose screw, then Kitty is the screwdriver that keeps him in place. Having known Owl since they can remember, she’s quite accustommed to his antics and seems to be the only being that can somewhat understand her feathery companion most of the time.

She has a sort of “big sister” attitude towards Owl and cares deeply for him, though this goes mixed in with her sass and overall more chill and mature demeanor. She’s down to earth and sees things in a positive but realistic light, though at times she can get crazy for some things (and catnip) as well as annoyed at everyone for no particular reason.

Having grown up with Owl, she picked on some of his mannerisms and the opposite is true for him as well

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag

Daimaht

Tiny, outgoing sinnamon roll

One of the many denizens of the Fire Realm, Daimaht is currently one of the Succubi in training for providing her realm with the so needed energy to run, though the gravity of her duties has not quite hit her yet, as she constantly slacks off on that regard. She’s a troublemaker that more often than not goes a bit out of control and has become a known public face of her realm.

Although she can seem rather naive and childish, she’s actually manipulative and cunning, as well as self-centered. She exhibits a rather unusual ability to learn as well as an adventurous personality that has taken her through and through the inner limits of the Fire Realm. However, she does enjoy whatever she’s doing (even her duties at times) and tries to enjoy it to the fullest.

Like the rest of her bethren, she needs to feel stimuli on a constant basis to feed, though this will last only to her mature stage as she is still a relatively new youngling

She’s got a guardian in the form of Ivanoff

Reference sheet || Blog Tag

Ivanoff

Big, chill cinnamon roll

Though not exactly being quite like legends describe them, Ivanoff belongs to the race of Behemoths, a primarily male race that has taken action on events of biblical proportions and existed before memory but somehow vanished some centuries ago.

Nobody knows much about him, except that one day Daimaht came back with this hulking giant following her anywhere she went.

He doesn’t seem to know how to speak, but he makes some growls and grunts on occassion. Behind his already mighty brawn, lies an equally mighty mind: few to none have been able to outsmart Ivanoff on anything, from fights to chess to tic tac toe to shopping, he’s in his game at all times. This of course makes him very aware of Daimahts actions in case she tries to do something stupid, so he acts as the voice of reason whenever he can catch her.

Although its quite an intrigue why Ivanoff stuck around with Daimaht, he does seem to care for her although he’s not very expressive about it, normally helping her on whatever she asks him, or having some recreative time together without much of a complaint; if anything, he knows how to handle things quite gently.

His residence on the Fire Realm is however a big trouble, since even in Hell there are rules. As he’s walking around, authorities are waiting for a reason to take action and get him out of the realm, but because of his background they are too afraid to do anything and he hasn’t done anything that means exile as well.

His left arm is made entirely of tentacles able to extend for miles, and his head has some gelatinous spikes with markings that change depending of his mood

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag

Fen, the coyote

A righteous pathfinder

Fen is a sort of a traveling monk in a self-realization journey, going to distant lands and learning about them as well. He’s generally a calm and aloof individual who goes about on his business but is always willing to give a helping hand.

Nicknamed "The Scythe" due to his vicious and swift fighting style, he possesses the ability to harness the energy called Aura and use it to enhance his physical attributes as well as creating energy constructs which assist him on melee combat.

Though with a strong sense of justice and fairness, there was a growing emptiness inside him. He then set out to the outside world to know the farway lands, in a journey to find himself and his place in the world- helping those that come his way as well and overall doing whatever he can on any given situation

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

Annor, the red raven

The reserved right hand

One of the monks Fen met while he was travelling, at first he hired her as a mercenary as he made his way through a rather unwelcoming realm, but after he got involved in a situation to deal with an ancient threat menacing to consume and destroy her homeland, she decided to accompany him on his quest, while also seeking to broaden her horizons and someday return to share stories of the foreign countries to her colleagues, in the hopes of expanding her order and share their philosophy and knowledge with the world.

Though her appearace is stern and strong as a warrior should, she's a soft-spoken person with a kind demeanor, though she has some trust issues at first.

Because of years of training, Annor is a master archer with the uncanny ability to imbue Ice properties into her weaponry.

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

Ariadne

Your common run of the mill singing lady bug

Ariadne lives her everyday singing all kinds of songs to anyone who's willing to stay during her performances. She has a natural predisposition to help out others and tend to them, all while singing an aria to lighten the mood and cheer everyone up, though she also has a fixation for etiquette and good manners, to which one has to be careful to behave near her, or at least not being so loudly uncouth.

Generally she expresses her emotions through songs, be it short ones while doing house chores, or long, elaborated ones when doing something important

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T) 

Owl-chan

A simpatic cutie

Owl-chan is a pretty normal girl. She's a welcoming and amicable girl whose origins remain a mystery, though it is known she's a foreigner as she moved in just recently and struggles with talking due to still learning the language. She can be literally seen anywhere however, minding her own business, doing stuff from bird-watching to soldering, at times even seemingly warping reality itself as one could even swear she's on several places at the same time or that she's appeared out of literally nowhere.

A blessed girl in many ways, she gains everyone's favor by just doing her thing or simply because she's Owl-chan. She's got an habit of going out at nights and sneak around for no reason in particular other than satisfy her boundless curiosity. Even then, everyone who meets Owl-chan ends up loving her regardless of the circumstances.

Tough still very innocent, she has a particularly big love for robots and fiction of most kinds

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

Ginel “Ginny“ Michaels

so qt much thicc very meme wow

Ginny is a cheery girl who's a big nerd for things such as videogames and memes, though this has often put her in trouble as she is used to stay past bedtime fragging someone while telling a bad pun or shitposting in online forums and the like. Because of this she's actually gotten two years behind for finishing college but somehow she's managed to keep up and make it so she's not kicked out

Although she might seem ditzy and bubbleheaded, she's actually decently skilled at programming. She's studying Videogame Design as her career. She's actually a brunette

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

Lizzy Svetson aka Payachita

A responsible girl with a positive outlook

Lizzy's philosophy of life is to put a smile on everyone's face, which is why she has a part-time job on her clown act, going by the name "Payachita" and attending social events like parties or going to hospitals to entertain the inmates, making jokes or tricks with balloons and stuff, or magic tricks even.

She studies a career on accounting and management, though this is only due to her family's traditional job of either accountants, notaries or auditors. She finds it rather boring, despite her natural skill at it. Never the less, she is resolute to finish her studies and use her knowledge to one day make her business into a bigger thing and spread joy all over the world... or at least all over her city anyways

Secretly, she wants Ginny to make a clown themed RPG game. She also doesn’t mind using her Payachita outfit on her everyday activities

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

Alice O’Donovan

fancy wordings and cryptic messages

She's an enthusiast of quite the things such as horror media, hard music, dark ensembles, and even occult stuff. With a solemn and often level-headed demeanor, she's a very reliable person for although she studied and graduated from a Law career, her area of interest is not really a fixated one, since anything that picks her fancy is sure to be a thing she will be knowing about

Coming from humble grounds, Alice has worked hard for almost all her life to rise, on her own words, into a more appropiate position in life. Having had a number of jobs over the years, she understands the value of effort and has quite a lot of patience for people, though at times she can't help but be exhausted after prolonged social interaction

She's working part-time on a small convenience store and on her own electronic device fixing business. She’s on an intimate relationship with Ginny

[reference sheet (someday :T)] || Blog Tag (i dont have one actually :T)

[pocketsharkk]

New Scars (A Telling From Conquest)

A few notes: I wanted to practice with 1st person writing since I pretty much only write in 3rd so I decided that I wanted to go with this “A Telling From” series that loosely resembles my experience in my lunatic files. I will post more 1st person from more than just Shar’s perspective in the future, but for now, I’m going to use him to practice.

"Ryoma, Brother, please! I don't want to fight you! I just want to see Elise to safety before this illness claims her!"

My pleading fell on deaf ears as Ryoma drew his Raijinto without any hesitation. His eyes still set on me, his resolve unwavering. There was no pity in them, yet no malicious intent for what may come of my little sister. His terms were simple: Return to Hoshido and leave Nohr behind, but I couldn't do that. I've known my Nohrian siblings my whole life. They raised me, they helped me cope with my confinement, they were always there to lend an ear whenever I began to doubt. I could never turn my back on them.

"Are you not going to grant me any sort of response, Ryoma? Are you going to stand in my way while my sister is dying?"

Ryoma tightened his grip on his katana. "I've named my request, Shar. Are YOU not going to grant me any sort of answer?"

I could feel my blood almost boil. Despite my recent training with my dragon blood, my temper was still getting the better of me and my rage often threatened to take over my mind and my actions out of sheer impulse. "No." I spat my answer out with a hiss. "I may have started my life in Hoshido and Mikoto may have been my mother, but Nohr is where my family is. I can't turn my back on them now or ever."

"So be it." Ryoma shifted his footing and dashed towards me before I could even begin to reach for my Yato. I was barely beginning to grip my blade's hilt before he was upon me, ready to bring his katana down. Before he could connect, however, his sword clashed with another that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Looks like we got here just in time!" Laslow, one of my eldest brother's retainer, had blocked and parried Ryoma's strike away just at the last second. "Lord Shar, you're not injured, are you?"

I let out a sigh of relief. "I am unscathed, thanks to your intervention." Before I could say anything else, Ryoma dashed back in for a second assault only to come to a halt before back-flipping out of the way of a lance that shattered the stone where his feet were as it struck.

 "Aww, I missed. Stay still next time!" Pieri, my eldest brother's second retainer, had quickly joined the fray, already covered in some blood. "I hope I didn't get here too late. There were some guys that were blocking my horsey so I stabbed them. It took longer than I thought."

Ryoma returned to his stance he held before his assault. "The retainers of Nohr must be quite strong to block my strikes and to make me retreat." Despite the surprise intervention, Ryoma's composure had not wavered. I'm not sure I could have remained as calm as him, but now was not the time for such thoughts. I had to get through, for Elise's sake.

 I stepped forward, drawing the Yato from its sheath. "Laslow, Pieri, please stand down. I appreciate the assistance, but this is my fight. He's here because of me and I'm going to make sure he leaves because of me. Deal with the rest of the forces, but don't kill anyone."

 I heard two affirmations of my orders behind me, one sounding disappointed about the mercy I called for them to show. Before they could join the rest of the combat going on around the sanctuary, two shuriken flew directly towards them. They appeared in front of me in an instant, easily knocked them out of the air. The ninjas that threw the shuriken quickly descended upon my brother's retainers in an instant. Ryoma's own retainers had come to combat the ones who engaged their lord in combat. Wasting no time, the retainers began their own duels to protect their higher ups, breaking away from the central grounds of the monastery so they wouldn't be in our way.

My focus returned to the Hoshidan prince that was standing before me, still in the same stance. "Now, no more interruptions. You're about to see just how much I've improved since you last saw me. I'm not about to let you pummel me as you did when I rejoined Nohr."

Ryoma just scoffed at that remark. "Let's hope for your sake that you're not in over your head. I WILL do whatever I must to dispel whatever magic those Nohrians used to brainwash you and if that means bringing you to the brink of death for that to happen, then so be it."

 This time, I was the first to lunge forward. Ryoma blocked the initial attack with ease, as well as the rest of my swings. He didn't even seem to be breaking a sweat or look like he was being pressured. I eventually made a sloppy strike during my assault and he immediately seized the opportunity to parry and reverse the flow of the battle into his favor. Every one of his swings was more challenging than the last to dodge, some still leaving nicks or small burns on me due to the lightning that danced off of the Raijinto with every slash. He swung with such force and precision that, had I not trained as thoroughly as I did in these past few months, I most certainly would have lost a majority of my blood and maybe even an arm.

When he drew back his blade to follow up with a stab, I took the chance to jump back and disengage from the fight. Surprisingly, Ryoma did not follow, but he simply stood his ground and taunted me. "You've improved, but not nearly enough. Your strikes lack weight behind them and you still appear hesitant. Is this all Nohrian training as done for you?"

That remark struck a nerve, prompting me to sheathe my Yato. Ryoma looked at me with a cocked eyebrow, most likely unsure of why I put my sword away.

"Ryoma," I sharply said. "You will not insult Nohrian methods!"

The dragonstone I had embedded within my armor began to give off a glow. My figure, hunched and writhing, became coated in shimmering water as it distorted and expanded to thrice its normal size. Wings sprouted from my back, a tail emerged from my rear, horns adorned my head, and my hands and feet brandished claws. The water stopped its shimmering as it began hardening into black and silver scales.

The rage that was building began to invigorate me as I stamped my claws onto the ground and readjusted my neck. It felt... more natural to be like this now. My mind started to clear and my muscles relaxed. I straightened up in an attempt to intimidate Ryoma into backing down, but I had no such luck. His gaze was still fixated on me and his expression had hardly made any changes, except the short instance of astonishment from my transformation.

I waited for Ryoma to make the first strike, but he just stood his ground. His line of thinking was probably the same as mine: wait for your adversary to make the first strike and counter accordingly. It was no surprise since he drilled that into my head while I was in Hoshido. Wanting to break the stillness, I began a steady stride which Ryoma mirrored in an instant, keeping the distance the same as it was when we were holding our positions.

Was he really scared of my dragon form or was it simply standard rules of combat that he followed? It wouldn't be that unreasonable for him to be scared. Many of my allies were scared of me like this, despite not seeing me fight in actual combat, but Ryoma actually saw me go on a mindless rampage during the catastrophe in Hoshido so maybe... I shook my head and readjusted my neck to dispel any hesitation that I had and lunged forward. I felt much lighter now, and it was obvious because of how Ryoma almost seemed to struggle to defend himself in time.

Even with a larger target, Ryoma wasn't able to land any solid hits. There were glancing blows every so often, but my scales were able to deflect his strikes since he couldn't gain the proper footing to make one that was forceful enough. All the training in this form was seeming to pay off! I couldn't believe it, I was faster than Ryoma? In this bulky form? It was exhilarating!

Considering the duration of our fight, I was astonished by how long Ryoma was able to go on. No matter how many slashes from my claws, strikes from my tail, or bursts of my aquatic fire struck him, Ryoma never let up. His endurance was almost supernatural while mine began to wane. Whether it was a combination of me tiring,  Ryoma speeding up, or maybe even both, he started to take over the flow of the battle again. His slashes had more weight, he began to dodge my counterattacks and he even managed to pierce through my scales with more and more ease.

Then he took complete control of the fight... In an instant, he struck with a hard kick that connected with one of my legs, knocking me off balance as he tightened his grip on the Raijinto. With one heavy slash, searing hot pain shot through my chest. Lightning crackled off of the freshly opened wound followed by a spray of blood. At that point, all I felt was rage and pain as I let out an ear piercing roar, turning all eyes to us on the battlefield. Even Ryoma reacted, covering one of his ears with his free hand. That moment was all I needed. Power swelled up inside me, and I blacked out for an instant. When I came to, I saw that a chunk was missing from Ryoma's spaulder, and his left arm was draped in blood that dripped into a quickly growing pool on the ground. I stood my ground as his retainers, battered and bloody, appeared out of nowhere to help him to his feet before vanishing from my sight. The adrenaline began to wear off and the pain returned. Everything went dark...

I awoke, barely aware of what was going on. My vision was fuzzy, only allowing me to vaguely notice all the outlines of people around me and feel that my head was being propped up in someone's lap while I could feel a cool sensation radiating in my chest. When the blurriness faded, I saw that it wasn't Camilla's lap that I was in, but Pieri's. I'm not sure what was going on, but my ability to communicate was failing me as I just stared up at her. Maybe she could tell I was looking at her because her head angled down to look at me moments after I realized I couldn't pull my gaze away. Though, I'm not sure how she would notice since my eyes were hidden while I was transformed.

I finally noticed the frantic instructions being given by Felicia as she was giving orders to everyone to keep me alive and heal me. I couldn't quite make out her instructions for Pieri, but she tilted my head and began running her fingers down the side of my face, presumably looking for any damage that may have occurred when I collapsed to the ground. I count it as a blessing that no one could see my face right now...

My worry of embarrassment was torn away by a rush of pain as the cold wave withdrew from my chest, causing me to let out a sharp inhale that notified everyone that I was conscious again. Camilla knelt down beside me as her relief set in.

"Oh, Shar! Please tell me you're alright!"

"I-I'm fine. The pain was... u-unexpected." My words waivered due to my head's position and the pain continuing to radiate across my chest.

 "Lord Shar," Felicia interrupted. "Are you able to stand or change back to your human form? I want to make sure you're okay to walk or shapeshift without reopening the wound."

I was hesitant to attempt what she had asked, but time was being wasted by just laying down and accomplishing nothing. I shifted positions slightly to make it easier get up once I had built up the necessary amount of energy. I dispelled the thoughts of the little crush I had just developed and pushed myself up with the aid of my sister and the surrounding retainers. Once on my four legs, I took a quick breath and started to change back. My scales liquefied and my entire body was coated in the same shimmering water that had surrounded me before. My neck retracted and my extra appendages merely dropped off with a splash as the water hit the ground. The rest of the water ran down my arms and legs as I stood up in my human form, mysteriously dry despite all the water from my transformation. Fortunately, whatever medicine was used to close my wound worked wonders. I lightly pat my chest a bit, still taking note of the pain, and wondered if my regeneration abilities were really working that fast in combination with the medicine. I knew I healed much faster than most people, but it was astounding that my wounds didn't so much as reopen in that short amount of time, especially with all the movement my body did while I reverted back to this form.

I looked up to examine the area, noticing that Elise's retainers were absent from the scene... Elise! A short burst of panic set it as I was unsure of the fate of my little sister.

"What happened to Elise? Where is she? She didn't... she's okay, right?"

Camilla approached and enveloped me in a hug as she gently stroked my hair. "Don't worry, sweetie. She'll be just fine. After you collapsed, Felicia sent Azura along with Effie and Arthur to go retrieve and administer the medicine for her while my darling Selena and Belka got the medicine to seal your wound."

I weakly brought my arms up to return the embrace, shaking as my anxiety calmed. "Oh, thank the gods. Thank the gods..."

"You both gave us quite a scare, you know. That wasn't nice of either of you at all! I would have been devastated if I had lost either of you. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you both..."

I could now hear Camilla's voice cracking as she struggled to keep her composure. I put my hands on her shoulders and slowly disengaged from the hug before looking her in the eyes. "That won't ever happen. I'm not about to let our family get torn apart. We siblings will always be there for each other."

Camilla nodded before clearing her throat. "That makes me feel much better, Shar. Thank you for the reassurance." She straightened her posture. "Now, let's go check on Elise. Arthur reported to us not to long before you woke up to inform us on her condition. Her fever dropped almost instantly after taking the medicine. If its effects work that fast, she's most likely improved further."

I let out a sigh of relief. "That's very good news. Let's not waste anymore time here, then. With how weak I feel right now, we should go ahead and start making our way inside. "

"Let's do this then." Camilla took my arm, draped it over her shoulders, and gripped my wrist. "This doesn't hurt, right?"

There was a slight sting in my chest, but it was manageable. "Yeah, this should be fine for now. Thank you, Camilla." With the support of my older sister, moving around was much quicker and much less painful. Thankfully, this pain would eventually fade, but the reminder of Ryoma using lethal force on me wouldn't. At least not anytime soon. If he wanted me to return to Hoshido, he wouldn't have put me on Death's doorstep. I guess that he did say he would do what he must to return me, but that's not what someone would do to one that they saw as a loving sibling. Maybe it was possible that he finally gave up on me and saw me as a lost cause or an obstacle now. Maybe I'm too "brainwashed" to be recovered. Whatever the reason, it only solidified my resolve to aid my siblings in Nohr even more. To protect them from pain like that. If I wasn't in my dragon form, would I have survived a hit like that? If not, would any of my family members be able to survive a hit like that? So many things remained uncertain, but at least there were a few certainties in all this: Elise was recovering, my own condition was improving slowly, and my comrades, my friends, were all safe for now.

[deadciv]

i tried to make a world that kept to a lot of the typical dnd mainstays (gods, fiends, dragons, etc) while also adapting theire purpose and their role in the world. i also enjoyed making up a whole bunch of factions and countries, although not all of that is actually on here. mostly i enjoyed making my definitely tyrannical probably evil (right?) draconic empire that once ruled the world and still rules a considerable portion to the north, despite the ire of pretty muc everyone. something appealing about creating a group that pretty much everyone loathes, you know?

Arc

5th Edition D&D Campaign

Though Arc is only a continent, for its denizens, it seems to be the whole world. The oceans to the north, south, west, and east are largely impassable, buffeted by storms, roiling with undersea horrors, and tinged by strange magic. But the continent itself holds more than enough wonders and dangers for any adventurer: The magically charged and monstrously teeming Wilds stretching endlessly to the northeast, the pirate-infested volcanoes and jungles of the archipelago to the southwest, and the war-torn lands of Kse full of robber barons and petty warlords in the midwest are only a few of the many dangerous and challenging places adventurers can find themselves in. Whether navigating the treacherous seas between the elven islands of Makkar and Amemno or the equally treacherous political landscape of the draconic Gashao-Rex Empire, there is always an opportunity for the willing, the able, the foolish, and the dangerous.

In this campaign, players will take up the mantle of these intrepid (or, once again, perhaps merely foolish) adventurers, endeavoring to defeat monsters, destroy or enforce tyranny, save or damn nations, factions, and individuals alike, unravel conspiracies, uncover cosmic mysteries, and generally make their mark upon the world. How Arc looks after your adventures is up to you, and Fate.

Players will begin as recruits, or conscripts, to the world-renowned Ipares Academy, located in the up and coming southwestern power of Revare. Though Ipares’ practices of taking recruits by force are now in the past, and the accusations of it being a state-run black ops institute have died down, ill circumstances—accidentally killing someone with magic in your hometown, stealing from a powerful lord, vandalizing a well-renowned temple—are just as likely to have brought you to Ipares as your own ambitions and desires. Regardless of how you got here, you are here because the powers that be at the Academy have seen something in you, some spark of potential, which sets you apart from your peers, for Ipares accepts only the best. At Ipares, you will be tested to your limit, and you will likely watch peers die—but by the end of your training, you will have the skills to enter the world of true adventuring.

This packet attempts to give a broad overview of the world and some pertinent details, but is not exhaustive; please do not hesitate to ask me for clarification or if you think your character would have more information than is listed here (they almost certainly do). Hopefully, this will be good fun for everyone involved, and I welcome feedback in making it such.

Note: You do not need to, nor are you expected to, read all of this to play this campaign. There are so many words. Like, so many. This is for your reference, and please, please feel free to ask me any questions you might have. I won’t care if they’re on the handout. At all. Read what you think might be relevant to your character and nothing else if you like. I love and appreciate you.

A. General History

Few, even the long-lived elves, seem to know what the world looked like before the coming of the dragons. The first event in recorded history is always thus: The arrival of the dragons, with their slave army of tieflings, aasimar, and dragonborn, and the rapid, brutal conquest of Arc at their hands. The Gashao-Rex Empire ruled the world for over a thousand years, their imperial family and council set in the ironically named capital city of Arc, ruling all the known world save the Wilds and the elven islands of Makkar and Amemno. It was not until 350 years ago, after the empire had been shaken by a massive undead incursion at the hands of a mad necromancer, that rebellion began to successfully foment, and even so, it took fifty years for the south to throw off the chains of the empire. Before any further fighting could occur, some force split the areas of Arc controlled by the dragons and the areas controlled by the rebels through powerful magic, ending the aptly named Breaching War abruptly. The northwest, known as Se, remains controlled by the empire, while the remainder of the continent, known as Sa, is a mish-mash of various nations, interests, and wild places. Today, unrest has begun to foment again, but it is impossible to say what chaos will erupt first.

I. Deities

There are three primary deities, as known by the people of the continent of Arc. Sen: Goddess of the Now. Sah: Goddess of the Then. Ses: Goddess of the Next. Broadly, they are considered deities of Truth and Reality, and are acknowledged, if not worshipped, by all. It is said they oversaw the creation of the world, and that they will oversee its end, someday. Some claim that they are actually one Goddess, in aspects of three, while others insist they are separate but equal, pushing and pulling against each other but ruling equally in their own way. Whatever it is, there is a strong focus on truth and objective reality around their worship and in broad cultural understanding, and great value is placed on education, history, and discovery. The actual truth of this truth can always be disputed, but the claims are always strongly made. The goddesses themselves, however, are not known to directly intervene in any way, ever. Their only direct presence in the world is through three Oracles, one for each goddess: But only the Chronicle, Oracle of the Past, stands on Arc, in the depths of old dragon territory. Faith insists the others exist, but no one really knows for certain where they are or what secrets they hold.

The other deities of Arc are both more knowable and less straightforward. They are ‘Aspects’ of the Goddesses, each representing its own set of beliefs and values. They represent both the darkest and the lightest that society has to offer, and have personalities and make decisions as though they were their individuals—but all flow from the Goddesses. More exist, but below are the best known.

Ischa: Known as ‘The Consoler’, Ischa is the patron of compassion, sorrow, and loss. She values mourning, reflection, and the bittersweet in-between spaces of sapient emotion.

Ische: The other side of the coin made by Ischa, Ische (known as ‘The Unwavering’) is often conceptualized as her brother. He represents the more active components of loss and grief: Dedication and obsession, justice and vengeance. He values action, response, and dedication to the cause; determination and fixation are both within his realm of patronage.

Revus: Revus, ‘The Upright’, is the patron of order, law, and honor. He values standing by one’s word, refusing to compromise, and acting for the ‘greater good’.

Saitsen: Saitsen, ‘The Bondless’, is the patron of freedom, chaos, and impulse. She values action by instinct, the destruction of created things and ideological structures, and the ability to choose for oneself. Often depicted as a former lover of Revus.

Ansile: Known as ‘The Impassioned’, Ansile is the patron of deep emotion, community, and beauty. They value desire, togetherness, artistic expression, and sacrifice on the behalf of others.

Anselm: Known as ‘The Detached’, Anselm is seen as the sibling of Ansile and is the patron of the mind, solitude, and simplicity. They value knowledge and understanding, personal enlightenment, control of emotions, and a plainness in presentation and lifestyle.

Kaeko: Kaeko, ‘The Vibrant’, is seen as the patron of life, growth, and creation. She values the natural order of things, change, the preservation of life, and hard work towards growth and goals.

Nephene: Nephene, ‘The Absolute’, is the patron of death, endings, and dissolution. She values things meeting their proper end, respect for the dead and the ending it signifies, and acceptance of fate. Often seen as the star-crossed lover of Kaeko.

Akamne: Known as ‘The Serene’, Akamne is the patron of peace, stillness, and vulnerability. He values humility, composure, compromise, and sacrifice.

Zuhar: Known as ‘The Turbulent’, Zuhar is the patron of conflict, action, and strength. He values doing battle, power and its seizure, decisiveness, and striving for goals and greatness, and is seen as the former lover of Akamne.

Aside from Goddesses, the Aspects, and the celestials that represent them, there are a number of other powerful beings that have carved out their own niches within different parts of the cosmos. These include the Fae, devils of the Nine Hells, and demons of the Abyss, though others may exist. Though they do not have the power of the Aspects, they nonetheless hold important places within the cosmos outside of the material world, and they have been known to affect the material plane in a number of ways.

II. Climate and Topography

Arc itself is a sizable place, split into two subcontinents—Se and Sa—after the cataclysmic, and little understood, end of the Breaching War three hundred years ago. This also led to some of Arc’s strangest features: The dead, sandy, rocky coastlines of Se and Sa, facing each other, the bizarre arcane eddies currents that flow through the Sand Sea between the two subcontinents, and the massive crack known as the Scar said to be where the spell that caused the splitting of the continent to take place. Since Arc rests near the equator, with about four fifths of it below, much of it experiences wet, humid weather, and rain forests are common. However, Arc is typically not as hot or wet as other equatorial areas typically are, possibly due to the same cataclysmic forces that split the continent, which may have created the faint, sheeny haze that frequently obscures the sun from much of Arc. All the same, Arc tends to get colder the in the south and warmer in the north, although a wide assortment of very high and very low altitudes mixed with bizarre, unexplainable weather patterns have made it difficult to predict the nature of a particular region’s climate. Additionally, distinct from our own world, the night skies of Arc are filled with only a moon and four stars.

III. Nations, Cultures, and Factions

The Amemno Republic

Location: Amemno (Island)

Capital(s): Alarro, Mnejir, Zhataa

Races: Predominantly elven with small enclaves of other races in the capitals. Unlike Makkar, elves from Amemno tend to have woody hues to their skin: Rosewood or yew or ebony or oaken, and remarkably diverse.

Government: Representative republic (triumvirate council, two legislative chambers)

Peaceful but defensive; greatly value equality, honesty, and civic/group responsibility

Religion: Primary deity Akamne, acknowledgement of other Aspects existent and allowed but not culturally prevalent.

Cata

Location: Mid-southwestern Sa

Capital(s): Thesh

Races: Human (forty percent), halfling (twenty percent), elven (five percent), dwarven (fifteen percent), mixed (ten percent), other (ten percent).

Government: Monarchy/oligarchy with meritocratic elements

Culture: Catan culture values pragmatism, self-interest, thinking ahead, and prudence.

Religion: Official religion Separatism, significant Syncretist minority

Gashao-Rex Empire

Location: Se (Entirety)

Capital(s): Arc

Races: All, excepting possibly gnomes. Largest amount of dragons on Arc (equaling approx. three percent of total population, if all ages included). Thirty-two percent human, nine percent elven, ten percent dragonborn, two percent tiefling, three percent aasimar, ten percent halfling, twenty-five percent dwarf, five percent mixed or other.

Government: Council of ancient dragons and a draconic imperial family, empress at the head, cascading hierarchy of heads of provinces and cities and so on

Culture: Rigidly hierarchical, with each individual or group belonging to one or more interlocking castes and rankings, but with heavy valuation on ambition and power/merit; fighting for power is common and accepted.

Religion: Worship of the Aspects is no longer permitted within the empire, although this has never stamped it out entirely. Though the empress and the imperial family are not presented as gods, per se, they are nonetheless presented as though they possess a measure of divine power and authority. The Goddesses, however, remain, acknowledged and respected but never quite worshipped, though with the lack of the Aspects as outlets for worship, cults of the Goddesses are more common inside the empire than outside of it.

Kyouko-Arame

Location: Southern Sa

Capital(s): Avaris-Ko/Kyouko (interchangeable)

Races: Humans, dwarves, elves, and halflings all at about fifteen percent each. Largest population of dragons outside of the empire, but still statistically negligible. About one percent for gnomes (of which there are a surprising amount, more than anywhere else in the civilized world), five percent each for dragonborn, aasimar, and tieflings. Large (up to as many as twenty percent) population of mixed individuals, about four percent other.

Government: Direct democracy (through use of magic) overseen by Prelate, an ancient and magically powerful silver dragon

Culture: Kyouko-Arame endeavors to be everything Gashao-Rex is not: Free, cosmopolitan, focused less on personal gain and power and more on art, knowledge, and cultural achievements

Religion: The home of Syncretism. Philosophers and clerics from Kyouko pushed against Revaren Separatist ideals about the individual nature of the Aspects, and their fighting soon precipitated a split in the newly founded religion, about 200 years ago. However, all religious faiths are welcome within the city, including Separatism, and nearly every deity of any kind has a shrine or temple of some sort.

Kse

Location: Southwestern Sa

Capital(s): Sha

Races: Humans (forty percent), halflings (twenty-two percent), dwarves (twenty percent), elves (ten percent), and other (eight percent)

Government: Loose federation of nobles and powerful people controlling the countryside and a margrave controlling Sha; not terribly organized or centralized and subject to constant shifts in power.

Culture: Kse has little when it comes to shared culture, aside from desperation. Resource-poor, subject to dangerous weather and visits from a whole host of dangerous sea creatures, and devastated by the Breaching War and by constant small or large scale fighting ever since, Kse is barely considered a country by its neighbors.

Religion: Separatism is the most common religious belief in Kse, coming from Revare to the south, although Syncretism has gained some foothold as well. However, a kind of mishmash is also very common, especially in the country, with commoners combining elements of both traditions and worshipping individual Aspects to the exclusion of all others.

Makkar

Location: Makkar (island), off southeast Sa

Capital(s): Alam

Races: Elven. Though there are small embassies of creatures from other nations, the Makkar are distrustful of outsiders, and though many leave their home on their ships to see other lands, they rarely allow outsiders the opportunity to see their cities or culture. Elves from Makkar tend to have a blue tinge to their skin, most rather light, though some have shades that are more striking, bright blues or even deeper shades.

Government: Monarchy heading up a complex clan system. The monarchy is not hereditary, and any clan is permitted to submit its leader or another member as a candidate for the role upon the monarch’s death. Individual clans and clan leaders make many of the choices as to how things are run in their area, with the monarch only given power over foreign diplomacy, declarations of war, and a veto vote (that can be overcome) in clan conclaves.

Culture: The people of Makkar value honor, discipline, the rule of law, and glory in battle. At the same time, they are very distrustful of individuals gaining too much power, and ensure that everyone fits and is content with their particular role so as to encourage as much stability and (a certain kind of) personal liberty as possible.

Religion: Primary deity Zuhar, acknowledgement of other Aspects existent and allowed but not culturally prevalent. Neither Syncretism nor Separatism have much influence. Formal religion surrounding Zuhar, with the Goddesses creating him as their primary envoy to the world, though they also have developed a great respect for Revus.

The Monae/Monae Lands  

Location: Eastern Sa

Capital(s): None

Races: Predominantly goliaths. The Monae tribes themselves are comprised entirely of goliaths. However, the monks that live in many of the larger monasteries and smaller communes, as well as the hermit ascetics, welcome people of all races.

Government: The Monae are a tribal culture, with no centralized leader. Each tribe does things slightly differently, although typically there is a tribal chief or council of some kind. The monasteries are equally diverse in the way they do things.

Culture: Though each individual tribe or monastery has its own cultural practices, and most would claim them to be significant from those around them, those living within the Monae lands do share a few common threads. The tribes are known for a fierce independence and utter unwillingness to bend or break to anyone, warlike tendencies that lead them to consistently raid nearby settlements and fight with one another, a deep respect for nature and connection to it, as well as a strong pride for their tribe and people that leads to a strong communal dimension in their culture.

Religion: Each Monae tribe holds different beliefs, but they share a common awe for nature and worship for the power the world itself holds. They do not worship the Aspects, and they see the Goddesses (as deities, that is) as no more than outlander superstition. The monks hold a wide range of beliefs, but their search for spiritual enlightenment within our own bodies cares little for gods or demons, and thus few monasteries have anything resembling a cosmology, caring little in lieu of finding a truer power within.

Revare/The Free Peoples of Revare

Location: Southwestern Sa

Capital(s): Ides

Races: Humans (fifty percent), halflings (twenty percent), dwarves (ten percent), elves (five percent), goliaths (one percent), mixed (nine percent), other (five percent). The most human-dominated nation in Arc.

Government: Monarchy with some representational elements. Hereditary monarchy dating back to the Breaching War, with the former leader of Revare’s rebellion taking the crown and passing it along to his daughter. Representational elements evident in a parliamentary council elected by consensus of elected officials in each district. Monarch retains the ability to veto legislation and also has procedures to override their decisions in particular circumstance, as well as broad jurisdiction over foreign relations.

Culture: Revarens are known for valuing enterprise, individuality, rule of law, hard-work, and propriety.

Religion: Revare is the original home of Separatism. Cropping up in the midst of the Breaching War, the individualistic strain of Aspect-veneration supported by the Revarens soon parted ways with the more holistic interpretation put forth by many from Kyouko-Arame. Though other religions are technically permitted, Separatism stands as the state religion, and wields considerable cultural and political power. Its emphasis on individuality and personal responsibility have also been very heavily integrated into Revaren society, and Separatism has been accused of being a tool of Revaren cultural expansion.

The Suarathi Island States

Location: On the Merktes Archipelago off of western Arc, stretching from near northern Se to near mid-western Sa.

Capital(s): Ipsis, Ekla, Dest, Amne, Sekt

Races: Original homeland of halflings, and still predominantly made up of them (sixty percent). However, trade, emigration, and immigration has also brought large numbers of other races, with humans (fourteen percent) and dwarves (nine percent) having notable populations. Additionally, elves (three percent) have a presence.

Government: The Suarathi have no centralized government, instead organizing themselves into a series of city-states and their surrounding areas. Each city state has its own traditions, governmental practices, and quirks, and none are beholden to any other, though there is extensive trade and cooperation.

Culture: The Suarathi tend to value friendliness, working together, appreciation for the gifts of life, flexibility, and humor. They value free expression of emotion and place great emphasis on its healthy channeling and externalizing.

Religion: The Suarathi worship all the Aspects, including some that few outside of the isles have heard of. Religion is, for them, a highly personal affair between an individual and the Aspects, and thus there is little formal doctrine or theology involved.

Ipares Academy

An academy/training school in Revare that trains both scholars and inventors as well as adventurers. Accused of being an arm of Revaren state power.

The Teeth

The Teeth are group of assassins and infiltrators aligned with Gashao-Rex. They are entirely non-draconic, and focus on destabilizing the other nations.

Syncretism

Syncretism, more formally known as ‘The Path of the Whole’, is a religion based in Kyouko-Arame focused on the belief that the Aspects are part of a greater whole. Syncretism believes that the actions of all beings are connected, and that everything is part of a greater whole mediated by both the Goddesses and the ultimate fate of the universe.

Separatism

Separatism, known officially as ‘The Heterodoxy’, is a religion based in Revare focused upon the status of the Aspects, the Goddesses, and every being as freely choosing individuals. Separatism is very careful to worship the Aspects as separate entities, and sets aside specific numbers of priests to focus on each deity.

The Scalawags (The Seabound Scalawags and Scoundrels of Se and Sa)

The Scalawags are a loosely affiliated group of pirates, smugglers, and other ne’er-do-wells who make their homes among the many islands, large and small, of the Merktes Archipelago.

The Unsmiling

The Unsmiling are an order of individuals of various provenance hailing from the Suarathi city states, trained in a variety of dangerous and secret skills. In contrast to the generally jovial and emotionally open nature of Suarathi society as a whole, the Unsmiling forswear emotion of any kind.

The Terriers

The Terriers fight for the freedom, independence, and unification of Kse. Though they are varied in disposition, methods, and short-term goals, they all ultimately seek the goal of a Kse brought to life.

The Ashen

Also known as gravehunters, the Ashen dedicate themselves to rooting out undeath in the world of arc. Though originating and based in the desolate wastes of the Dragon’s Desert, the Ashen can be found the world over.

Ferals

Though most are greatly intelligent beings appreciating culture, civilized society, and its various pursuits, dragons nonetheless do possess certain feral, animalistic instincts. Some have elected to give in to these, leaving the rigid hierarchy of Gashao-Rex for other parts of the world, endeavoring either to live as powerful beasts, rulers of the wilds in whatever corner they carve out, or as petty masters of small groups of sapient beings.

The Circle of the Land

This circle is a loose society encompassing many of the druids who live across Arc. Though they follow their own paths and most druids have a certain independence by nature, and there are many druids who do not belong to the society, the Circle nonetheless encompasses much of the impetus to worship and protect nature through its magic in the world.

The Circle of the Moon

The Circle of the Moon is little more than a rumor, a tale of beast men and women to frighten or excite peasant children. However, for hundreds of years, even before the Breaching War, whispers of individuals—sometimes alone, sometimes in packs—who lived as wolves, as bears, as tigers, but could walk as humanoids, have filtered through the lands of Arc.

The Stormers

Divided into two separate orders, that of the Stormweathers and that of the Stormwardens, the Stormers are one of the immutable realities of Makkar. Around as long as anyone can remember, the Stormers have a twofold purpose: To explore the world and hunt down Makkar’s enemies and dangerous creatures, and to protect Makkar from the massive, volatile, and potentially civilization-destroying storms that threaten to ravage the island.

Koru

Koru, meaning ‘unity’, is the word used to describe the Amemno Republic’s extensive network of diplomats, merchants, and ambassadors by both Amemnans and outsiders. Koru walk the line between agents of the state and independent entities, going out into the world both on their own motivation and initiative and as well as on that of the Republic.

IV. Races

Humans: Humans, by virtue of being relatively short lived (having a life span of less than 100 years) and fast breeding, are the most numerous race on Arc. Every nation has at least a sizable population of humans, if not a plurality. Even places like Makkar or Amemno, which have smaller populations of humans and have not traditionally been human cultures, have watched their human populations slowly grow, grow, and grow. Humans have a number of stereotypes associated with them, such as over-ambitious or shortsighted, but their presence is accepted nearly everywhere. Humans are good at many things and bad at many more, but they tend to be seen as versatile and reckless, when thought is given to them. Humans, so far as anyone knows, have been on Arc as long as anyone.

Dragons: Though their numbers are relatively few, for a number of reasons including intentional extermination both during and after the loss of half their empire, a slow maturation rate, intense and often bloody competition, and the unwillingness of older dragons to allow too many young dragons join their ranks, dragons are nonetheless the best known and most feared sapient race on Arc. Dragons can live for hundreds of years, and strong evidence exists that several dragons still in power in the seat of Gashao-Rex have been alive since before the conquest of the continent. Two different types of dragons exist—chromatic and metallic—and each type has its own ascribed characteristics, but both have been involved in the conquest of Arc from the beginning. Chromatic dragons are typically seen as the warriors, the generals, the enforcers, and typically have more physical prowess, while metallics are seen as the administrators, spies, and diplomats and are typically more magically inclined, but both can shapeshift and both have done great and terrible things. However, chromatics are typically seen as more cruel and base than their metallic counterparts, who seek to rule with a steady, firm, guiding hand rather than with a fist. With the Breaching War, however, and the entry on the side of the rebels several dragons of note, the general opinion on dragons has become far more muddled, especially with the existence of the humanoid-draconid nation of Kyouko-Arame.

Halflings: Halflings, typically living about twice as long as humans at two hundred years, are known for being scrappy, dependable, and down to earth. They are known for appreciating simplicity over artifice, for enjoying lives as farmers and merchants and other ordinary folk much more readily than other races. However, they are also known for being uncommonly tenacious and unwilling to bend their own codes of conduct regardless of the circumstance, and halflings were often some of the first people to take up arms against the dragons and their tyranny. Alongside humans on Arc for as long as can be remembered, they are often the next most common race within a city or country.

Gnomes: Seen as an uncommon peculiarity throughout most of Arc, with no known primary population centers throughout the world, gnomes can live for nearly five hundred years and are often found wandering throughout the world, exploring new things and then disappearing back to wherever they came from. Gnomes were almost never seen during the age of dragons, with only one or two recorded mentions popping up, but have become a much more frequent sight over the last few hundred years. Though it is unknown to nearly all, gnomes do in fact have their own society, existing far in the wilds to the north in well-hidden and warded burrows and villages, but the powerful magic placed upon them by their elders as they leave prevents them from ever revealing, intentionally or against their will, the location or nature of gnomish society.

Elves: Elves stand, besides halflings and humans, as the next most common race throughout Arc. Though it is said that elves have not been here as long as halflings or humans, no one really knows where they came from or what difference it might make. However, the long lives of the elven people (up to nearly seven hundred years, at times) have caused them to form communities more lasting than some of their shorter-lived counterparts, as they attempt to create continuities even through the insanities and tempests of history. Elves typically have their own schools, villages or parts of a city, and individual cultural habits. However, many also intermarry with other races such as humans, and many spend their early lives living away from their fellows, exploring the world and using their long lives to see as much as possible. Supposedly connected to the Fae, they are also often seen in the more natural parts of the world and have a strong connection to it, and explorers to The Wilds are often groups of elves believing that their attunement to nature will allow them to succeed where few others have. Though there have always been some elves on the continent, most ultimately can trace their ancestry to Makkar and Amemno, and those of Makkar show a very different side, having long been warlike and insular, never allowing the full control of the dragons and being among the first to attack them openly in the Breaching War.

Dwarves: Said, like the elves, to not have lived on Arc for as long as humans or halflings, dwarves have nonetheless spent their time on Arc industriously. Living for about three hundred to four hundred years, dwarves were initially very insular, building their own cities and societies and letting few others near them as they carved out worlds for themselves under the earth. However, the coming of the dragons destroyed this way of life as they were thrown from their burrows and forced to integrate into surface life, made slaves to the dragons just like the surfacers they had long disdained. Though it took time to adjust, dwarves eventually turned their efforts to building lives above ground, often offering their renowned architectural and inventive services to the dragons in return for favor and allowances. However, the dwarves never forgot what had been done to them, and they were instrumental in tearing down the rule of the dragons when time finally came to end their reign. Today, they live in the cities they helped build or beautify, often remaining in their own cliques but always respected and valued for their contributions to the current state of the world—at least outside of Gashao-Rex, the site of their erstwhile homeland.

Goliaths: Goliaths are one of the few races to still typically make their homes away from broader society. With the possible exception of the Wilds to the north, the only true remaining bastions of goliath civilizations are in the Soutwilds in the south of Revare, and in the grassy, rocky highlands of the Monae that border the Wilds. They typically maintain a tribal culture, though those in the Soutwilds hold loose allegiance to the Revaren Senate housed in Ides. They have typically cared little for the machinations of dragons and nations, though they did join the rebels in fighting off the dragons once the war had begun, before returning to their forests and mountains once again.

Tieflings: Tieflings are not common throughout the nations of Arc. Arriving with the dragons on Arc some millennium and a half ago, they are thought to be descendants of devils (or fallen Aspects) who tricked or bargained their way into the beds of humanoids and are often seen as naturally deceitful or dangerous. They are rarely trusted and, outside the empire, tend to stay in small communities or wander alone.

Aasimar: Much like tieflings, aasimar are very uncommon throughout Arc, except in the heart of Gashao-Rex itself. Though their situation is much the same, with many being solitary wanderers, exiles, and outcasts and the rest being servants of the dragons, their celestial heritage makes them generally more trusted in humanoid nations. Their real origins are largely unknown, though much speculation about their supposed parentage through the Aspects runs rampant, but their outwardly ethereal nature makes them naturally notable.

Dragonborn: Seeming to be the children of dragons and humanoids, dragonborn are the most feared and reviled humanoid race in Arc. Few make any attempt to live in or even visit the nations outside of Gashao-Rex for fear of prejudice or harm, and those living outside of the empire live almost entirely in Kyouko-Arame or the Suarathi States. Dragonborn tend to stick together, living in their own societies with their own kind. Their continued status as foot soldiers to the dragons have made them even more insular, as they continue to experience distrust from nearly every quarter.

[ofsugarandice]

♖ (Neil Flewett, wsw!Raphael, Aziza, Zakhar, modern!Bailey) // ♨ (wsw!Bailey, Rhea Steyn, wsw!Dom, Rhett) // ☁ (Miryam, Zosime, Ruya, Caldreus) // ♗ (Benjamin Hughes, Ronan Alister) // ♟ (Alice Carter, Killian) // ☂ (pirate!Jack) // ♞ (Daniel Pearce, Claire Robins, coc!Aniah)

omg okay so I have to place this under a cut because it gotto be almost 3k words long.  I love youso much for sending this.  I love havingto think about this stuff for my characters.

♖ one of my muses guiltypleasures

Neil Flewett - This is a hard one, only because Neil playsso closely “by the book” and doesn’t allow himself to take pleasure inanything, really.  His devotion to hiswork and his guilt at his sister’s ailment leaves him so worried about everyoneelse’s well-being, he never takes a moment to actually think of his own.  This seems like a cheat of an answer, butbecause of that, I think anything Neil finds himself enjoying - time at sea,when he has a moment of peace alone and the wind is just right on the sails -makes him feel guilty.  Especially if hedoes get happy when he’s out sailing, because he’ll immediately feel guilty forbeing happy to not be near his sister when her days are numbered.

wsw!Raphael - …I don’t think there’s much Raphael feelsguilty about these days where pleasure is involved.  Prior to him absolutely losing it in theforest on Halloween, Raphael definitely felt guilty for being attracted toMary, for knowing he was attracted to her, and also for hating her as much ashe did for things she couldn’t help. Before all this, when Mary was just his student and had no idea what washappening, I think Raphael sometimes felt guilty for how much anger he heldtoward her, specifically, when she couldn’t help that their parents had lovedher and not him.  Now, however, Raphael’sjust accepted he’s The Worst™ and is refusing to believe if he put a littleeffort and tried to control his urges, he could be a decent guy.  But nope. Any nasty, pleasurable thing that pops into his mind he wants and hedoesn’t feel guilty about it at all.

Aziza Ra Khalid - Enjoying Arvidor, I think.  She’s sent to Arvidor to catch PrinceTorleik’s affection and get him to want to marry her, but this is Aziza’s firsttime away from Aurora Ra.  Arvidor is sodifferent, closed in, an explosion of rich, vibrant colors from greens tobrowns, she just can’t believe her eyes. Then, considering she arrives in fall, she witnesses her first snowfalland thinks it’s absolutely magical.  She’sso fascinated and in love with how different Arvidor is from Aurora Ra, but shefeels VERY guilty.  Malakai has only everspoken of how GREAT Aurora Ra is and she knows he’d be so angry with her if sheever tried to explain she actually liked the differences of Arvidor so much andwanted to see the other kingdoms.  So shefeels guilty for actually enjoying the surroundings and not focusing everyounce of her time into wooing Torleik.

Zakhar - Haha. Hm.  Swimming.  Funnily enough, I think Zakhar really, reallyenjoys swimming on a personal, relaxing sort of level.  But, being the evil uprising and like, tryingto be king of all these bad guys and having this reputation of beingresurrected from the sea by your god kind of doesn’t make it so you can gosplash around and have a blast in the ocean. He’s got a lot on his plate trying to bring death and destruction to allthe kingdoms.

modern!Bailey - Don. Sex with Don.  Spending time withDon.  The fact that she’s in love withDon, even if she hasn’t realized it yet. Her love of animals.  Her passionfor helping animals.  Honestly, anythingthis girl actually finds pleasurable she feels CRAZY guilty for since hermother is so against her hopes and dreams ( I mean, granted, her mother has areason to be against Bailey enjoying sex with Don lmfao ).  Bailey is my little guilted worrywart.

♨ something that relaxes my muse

wsw!Bailey - This will come as little to no surprise, butspending time with Julian, first and foremost. The times where it’s just the two of them, wrapped up in bed, notthinking about worrying over getting caught and just being able to be THERE andin love, whether they’re talking or not, that’s when Bailey is mostrelaxed.  Before Julian entered her life,I think reading was what relaxed her most, which was why she did it so often.  Anything she could get her hands on, be itfictional novels to nonfiction, if she could lose herself in the pages of abook and be pulled away from the strict rules her mother enforced in herday-to-day life, Bailey was happy.

Rhea Steyn - AH I am going to guess this was intended forher modern day cop verse I previously had for her but I’m a terrible person andsince I haven’t written her in that verse for so long and no longer have thatinformation up, I honestly can’t remember her drive in that verse.  It’s very, very vague.  Instead, I’ll talk about wsw!Rhea which ofcourse, lmfao, no surprise, is Don.  Donpulls Rhea out of her head and away from that cycle of anxiety circling hermind like crazy.  When it isn’t Don,maybe when he’s at the school or even before they met, cooking was what relaxedher.  Using her grandmother’s recipe’sremind her of a better time, a time with family, when she had her loved oneswith her.  She loves cooking.

wsw!Dominik - Dominik is always such a relaxed and stoiccharacter with his mind and time focused on his goals, he doesn’t really taketime away from them to need to relax.  Ifeel like I’m echoing prior answers, but honestly I think spending time alonewith Nyxya always helps relax him, but it’s because she knows him best of alland he can let down the guard he otherwise keeps up around other people whenhe’s with her.  He can just… be

Rhett - a bubble bath. LOL, no, honestly Rhett likes simple comforts - a good book, a bubblebath, a little dessert he picks up from the store.  Those sort of things kind of are pretty relaxingto him.  He’s a simple guy at heart.  Oh, also, probably not being forced by ademonic creature to help enslave human souls but, yaknow. 

☁ something that make my musesad

Miryam - The obvious answer would be when she’s unable toget her hands on something she’s fixated on, whatever it may be.  But honestly, I think Miryam gets angrybefore she EVER gets sad when it comes to that. The only thing I could think that honestly makes Miryam sad is thebrief, brief moments where she’s able to look past her own selfish greed andthink of what she’s done here to Midyan, who she knows wants to go back to hellmore than anything while she wants to remain in the overworld.

Zosime - Again, probably another obvious answer, any timeZosime thinks of her brother.  Losing himwas hard for her since they were so close, and I don’t know that she’ll everfully accept his death.  There’s a lot ofmixed emotions when it comes to thinking of her brother’s death.  Obviously she has to accept the way ithappened as it’s tradition and there’s nothing wrong with Caldreus havingkilled him, because her brother would have done the same to him had he theopportunity.  But I think sometimes she’sangry he wouldn’t allow her to instruct him on sword fighting and sometimesshe’s angry he didn’t just give in, knowing he was never actually afighter.  I dunno, this answer is gettinglonger than necessary lmfao but yes, definitely any time she remembers herbrother.  I would say the thought of losing Louis or their child or Eudora makes her sad, but it just makes her VERY ANGRY and ready to DO MURDER on whoever would take them from her.

Ruya – Ohh.  Hm.  Going based off her current timeframe ratherthan her future plots, which will make her grow, I think Ruya is only very,very sad whenever she has disappointed her father.  Ruya is the epitome of a “Daddy’s Girl” andloves Aerka’an so, so much.  She may actlike a little shit to her sisters and try to bat those eyelashes at her papa,but if ever he were to be angry or upset with her, I think she would truly,honestly be upset.  While she minds hermother and loves her, I think if Aerka’an punishes her, it just tilts the wholedamn world in her eyes and makes her feel like the absolute WORST.

Caldreus – Well considering the future death of his wife DEVASTATEShim, that’s a bit more than just sadness LOL I think the fact that his daughter hardly reflects his interestssometimes bothers him, but I don’t know that it makes him sad.  I do know Caldreus had always hoped he’d beable to bequeath his ship for the captaincy of his oldest child and knowing hecan’t do that and instead had to name his first mate as captain to keep theship sailing is kind of a bit of a letdown, not that he’d ever hold it againsther ( Although between you and me we know I’d much rather write that characterout of existence completely and give him an actual developed child who wasraised by a captain as she was and reflects that rather than the love-strucklittle princess he got instead somehow? ) Uhhh I think the devastation which followed Zakhar’s rule over Sil’Saarmakes him sad.  If any of his people arein suffering in any way and out of reach for him to help.  I think I remember writing in a thread at onepoint that the reason he walked among the streets rather than staying in thecastle was because he wanted to see the way his people were truly living so hecould constantly work for a better kingdom for his people. 

♗ a tip for getting my musesromantic affection

Benjamin Hughes – Oh man. So this is actually something I am REALLY EXCITED to write Benjamin in oneday because when he first meets someone he seems almost callous, he has thathard angry expression and his words are often short or to the point and heseems to be trying to get away from people as quickly as he can BUT it’s onlybecause on the inside he’s just a fucking anxious MESS so to get his affection,just be around him.  Constantly.  Get him used to your company.  Get him to blunder his words up every sooften.  Poke him when he’s coming acrossas a grump to put him in check.  Remindhim how he’s coming off to the world, because sometimes I don’t think herealizes how grumpy he seems.  BUT moreimportantly than any of this, not only are you going to have to flirt with him,you’re going to have to make the first move, because Benjamin won’t.  He’ll be WAY too terrified he’s reading itwrong and wayyyy too anxious.  Justfucking kiss him.  He needs to be SHOWNthat you actually want him and want his company.  It’s definitely fighting an uphill battle tobe in a romantic relationship with Benjamin just because he’s SO in hishead.  He needs someone who isn’t afraidto get what they want in the end to show him he is what they want.

Ronan Alister – Support his delusions.  LOL no, but honestly.  Support him. Talk him up.  Tell him howpowerful he is.  How strong he is.  Be of a like mind to him.  Enjoy his vision for the future, support it,and do what you can to be his partner in every meaning of the word while alsobeing obviously subordinate to him. Almost subservient.  This is whyZara was so close to him as she was, she respected him, looked to him almost asone would look to a king.  She would tellhim how great he would be in the future. She bowed to his will.  ( Also canI just say looking at the two answers in this category I love how very differentthese two are LOL )

♟ something my muse admires

Alice Carter – Gideon. Completely and absolutely, Alice admires Gideon.  His resolution, his determination to protect,and just how strong-willed of a person he is. Alice doesn’t care for much in this world and didn’t really, before sheand Gideon crossed paths.  But sheadmires and respects him just as much as she deeply and absolutely loves him.

Killian – Uh… good question. Himself?  LOL  Umbra Lui? Although I suppose his admiration of Umbra Lui is more devotion andworship….  There definitely isn’t asingle person he admires.  He may haveeven loved his mother and respected his father, but I don’t think he admiredthem.  Maybe the heart of Vollstacht,what lies in the true nature of his people? He admires the dragons; he admires the dragonriders of the past (whichis why he’s trying to bring that back) and the destruction they reigned upontheir enemies; he admires the strength of Vollstachtian steel; he admires thehard resolution and fierce devotion his people offer to a rightful leader ( akahim ). 

☂ something my muse wants toprotect

pirate!Jack aka Thomas ( I changed his pirate name back toThomas a while after you’d already sent this ask once I realized how manyJack’s there are in pirate verses lmfao ) – This definitely depends on whichsplit-off of his verse we’re discussing. If it’s any of his verses with Jaqueline, he wants to protect herwithout a shadow of a doubt.  But if it’sin one of the verses where he doesn’t have someone he’s close with, I think hewants to protect his identity most of all. He doesn’t want his fellow brothers to learn of his upbringing, of howhigh in the Admiralty his father was.  Hedoesn’t want anyone to learn of the fact that his mother was a servant wholoathed his existence, or that he was a product of rape.  He wants to protect what’s true of himbecause he doesn’t want to be so exposed. It’s why he pretends to be so very flippant and humorous, so everyonewill take him at face value like a silly, stupid, irritating drunk rather thansomeone with an actual dark past and an already broken heart :C  So yeah, he’s kind of always wanting toprotect his past, I’d say ( not that I want it to stay that way, of course – Ilove getting under Thomas’ skin and making his vulnerabilities known ).

♞ something that my muse wants todo

Daniel Pearce –  Youmean aside from have sex with Mary while she’s wearing a collar and he has aleash attached to it??? LOL So, let me set this up real quick, Daniel’s ina vulnerable place at the moment where it comes to Mary.  He sees her daily, during the hours where heisn’t working from his office.  She’sthere when he’s up in the morning and she’s there for dinner in theevening.  She’s there when he’s reading,maybe playing with their two little kitties, and he can’t stop lifting his eyesfrom the page, losing his place and watching her.  He’s not watching her or paying attention toher anymore like her therapist.  He’srealized this and he knows the RIGHT thing to do is to get her as far away fromhim as possible because it isn’t fair to her for him to become attached toher.  BUT, all that aside, the momentswhere Daniel isn’t plaguing himself with guilt for the fact that he’s realized heenjoys her company and honestly, truly likes her and no longer sees her as apatient… Daniel wants to take Mary somewhere. Anywhere.  He wants to show her amap, tell her to pick a place, and he wants to whisk her away.  He wants to show her the world.  He wants to give her little gifts that makeher smile that sweet, honest smile she has. He wants to do little things for her that honestly surprises her becauseshe’s never actually expecting them.  Hewants to love her so, so badly.

Claire Robbins – Raise a family with John.  Honestly. Wholeheartedly.  Claire wants thewhole family picture with John.  Shewants marriage and children and a dog and a pretty little house.  She wants to fill picture albums with tripsof where they went prior to children, all the adventures to have, to further volumesstacked with all the trips and adventures they’d have as a family with theirchildren.  If not for her absolute fearof John leaving her or falling out of love with her, what Claire wants most inthis world is to HAVE that future with John. She loves him so much… much, MUCH more than she ever cared for Edward,which is definitely why her love for John and his love for her scares her somuch.  The mere thought of losing it iswhat’s causing her to nearly make her lose it in the first place, where if shecould just get past her fear, they could have such a beautiful, pure future andthat’s honestly all she truly desires.

coc!Aniah – Hehehehehe… first answer?  Have a threesome with Damian and Dorian… fuckalmost everyone on your roster?  THE GIRLIS THIRSTY.  Okay, okay, aside from theobvious, Aniah honestly wants to travel the kingdoms with Damian andDorian.  When Damian first spoke to herof all the sights of the world at the SGS, I don’t think she’s ever forgottenor lost the dream of traveling and seeing them with him.  She wants to see everything, since her familycooped her up for so long in their little jungle.  She wants to see everything Damian could showher, and everything Dorian could, too.  Ithink her absolute DREAM is to just sail away for a little while with them andjust BE with them… aside from also wanting to get married to Damian, of course ♥