#until he died and she took on his human spirit & it allowed her to more freely take on her human form

[thevoidstaredback]

As soon as Deadman left, Phantom allowed himself to enter his Keep to further investigate the damages. The entire upper-right wing had been changed, as well as some of the colours in the throne room and the courtyard, though nothing more than that.

The Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep remained untouched in the crypt below the Keep, the traps in the surrounding maze of catacombs were still primed and unactivated.

The Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage stayed on Phantom’s person at all times, so he didn’t worry about those. However, Fright Knight’s sword had been moved. Instead of the middle of the room, the pumpkin was sitting on the throne.

Hm.

Unfortunately, Phantom knew exactly who was behind this. How he hadn’t suspected earlier, he didn’t know, but the unnatural changes to his Keep were a dead - ha - giveaway.

While he’d be locked Outside Time, Plasmius’ human half had died, leaving him as a full ghost. He took residence in the Realms, not allowing even the vultures to enter his lair. The Realms had told Phantom that Plasmius spent time traveling, though most of his time was split between his lair and Ghostwriter’s Library. Now it made sense.

Being King gave Phantom a lot of passes when breaking rules. Pariah Dark had had and abused the same power, so he did everything he could to follow the same rules everyone else did. This was the exception.

Entering another Spirit or Ghosts Lair without a clear invitation was unheard of and only done with full expectation of retaliation. Kind of like signing and breaking a Non-Disclosure Agreement.

This is not one of those times.

Phantom left his Keep as it was. Fright Knight was there, so he wasn’t too worried about it. He was quick to fly to the door leading to Plasmius’s Lair, and even quicker to enter. Plasmius would know the second he opened the door, but he didn’t care.

At least he would’ve known about his company if he’d been there.

Phantom made his way into the empty Lair. It was almost an exact replica of Vlad’s basement lab, which was very unsettling. There weren’t any clones toddling about, but there was a cloning station. And in place of the perfectly functioning portal from the basement lab, the mere skeleton of the frame stood. It was a truly pathetic attempt to replicate the portal without the blueprints, but it made Phantom wonder why it was the way it was. Vlad had designed those blueprints with his parents, had built a portal with so many more limitations than he had in the Infinite Realms, so why?

The Realms pulled at him, urging him to go to Walker’s Prison. Plasmius wasn’t there but he’d undoubtedly get the hostile invitation to the Keep.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was him?” Phantom asked the Realms as She took him to the Prison.

“I was having fun,” She answered, though She had no voice.

“So putting the lives of hundreds of Living People in danger is fun to you?” He’d never been truly mad at the Realms until this moment. It was odd.

There was a frown in Her not-voice. “Should lives have been in danger, I would’ve told you.”

“Lives are in danger!”

“You forget that I am All, and therefore I know All. You and your heroes would have figured it out with or without mine and Lady Gotham’s help.”

“You put her up to her riddles?!”

“No. She’s just like that.”

Phantom sighed as the Prison came into sight, trying to calm himself as best he could.

Landing on the pale green island, Phantom knocked on the door and waited for the proper invitation to come in. When he was permitted entry, he followed the path to Walker’s office.

“Phantom,” the Warden greeted.

“Walker,” he nodded back, “You have on your list the name Ra’s al Ghul, yes?”

Walker paused for a moment at the name before he started rifling through the papers around the room. Eventually, he held one up, “Yeah, but he still ain’t here.”

“There’s a cell waiting for him, yeah?”

“Obviously.”

“Perfect! Because he’s on his way.”

Walker blinked. “Excuse me?”

“He’s been using excess energy that’s leaked into his world from the Realms as a kind of faux immortality. It’ll catch up to him eventually, but recently he’s decided to try and access the Realms themselves.”

“And you’re going to drag him here yourself?”

“Naturally,”

Walker grinned. “Why don’t you let me drag him through? I may not have your Kingly powers, but this technically falls under my Obsession.”

Phantom laughed with him. “Go right ahead, Warden, you may interfere with the Living Realms through the Lazarus Pits at this time.”

There was a crackle of thunder and the Realms seemed to shiver. The lavender glow in the room started to fluctuate between dim and bright as Walker concentrated, reaching through the leak and grabbing a hold of his target and pulling him through.

Two people came through the rip in reality just before it closed.

“Ra’s al Ghul,” Walker said, manic grin still in place, “You’re under arrest for crimes against the Realms. With her as my witness and King Phantom as your judge, you are to await trial for your crimes.”

“Talia al Ghul,” Phantom said, “You are not yet meant to be here.”

“A simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.” she answered.

Phantom hummed. “You will be taken to Gotham to serve as parol.”

“Parol?”

“Your time will come. For now, you have a child to care for.”

The Realms was quick to take Talia away, giving her to the care of Lady Gotham.

Walker, meanwhile, was having the time of his life with Ra’s. He’d taken the man to his cell, reading the Realms equivalent of Miranda Rights and handing his sentence.

“For what crimes am I here!” Ra’s demanded.

“Crimes against the Realms and Her King,” Walker said.

“Which are?”

“I don’t have to tell ya a thing,” Walker leaned in close to the bars, “The Dead work by different rules than the Living. Learn ‘em.” He walked away then, reveling in the protests of his new inmate.

Part 25 Part 27

[girlfox]

buried my head into some doodling & because stardew has been ALL OVER my feed on everything lately ( and i really need to pick up my save again, but i'm waiting for the update to come to switch so i can snuggle up in bed instead to play ), i drew a widdol farmer stardew ahri. 🥺

[ghostgorlsworld]

Johnny Boy (Chapter 1) Werewolf! Soap x reader

Once upon a time, you would've done anything for John Mctavish. He had been your older brother's cool best friend, and you were always desperate for him to see you as more--until one fateful night that ends up with you pregnant and him...gone. Fast forward six years and you've made a good life for yourself with your daughter Emma, with Johnny none the wiser. Until one day, he decides to knock on your door.

Warnings: this will be dark Johnny, he's a werewolf so in my fics they don't really have the same morals. There will be smut in the future, and this will be quite a slowburn.

PS. shoutout to @ceilidho for inspiring this Johnny fic, especially in the future you will see Johnny calls reader "kitty" and ceilidho absolutely came up with that amazing nickname and I love them for it :) Read their stuff for more Johnny fics!

You couldn’t remember the last time Emma had slept through the night.

She was always a restless little thing, even as a baby. She hardly cried during her first year of life, quiet as a lamb with her wide blue eyes and pursed mouth, squirming out of swaddles and cradles with a single-minded determination. Your wee old man, you used to say, always looking out at the world and finding it lacking. 

She didn’t get those blue eyes from you, though you wish she had. It was as if you weren’t allowed to forget him. 

Emma was curled around you like a cat, her dark hair sprawled across your pillow. She didn’t like to be alone at night, but that was common for baby wolves, always searching for the closest source of warmth.

You spent half your time researching, reading books like How to Raise a Wolf Pup 101, or Ensuring Your Child Stays Connected to Their Inner Animal and enrolling her into a mixed kindergarten, where pups and children co-mingled (usually) without incident. It helped that you had grown up with a werewolf, you could look at his early life and see the flaws in the way his parents raised him.

You always worried, worried that you weren’t doing as good a job as someone like her would, worried that you weren’t feeding her a proper diet despite the fact that you spent another good chunk of your time preparing raw meat to mix with her school lunch. She was so small for her age, but she had John’s spirit, all wild-hair and quick temper.

Today was going to be a hard day for you both. Today was the day of the funeral.

Emma’s great grandfather took a turn last week and died at a rather impressive age, considering his history. He was a charming old wolf, but back in the day had belonged to the underground fighting rings London used to harbor, where wolves and humans alike ripped each other apart in grimy warehouses and subway tunnels. You had a suspicion that he had involved John in it a handful of times, when Johnny was just a skinny teenager with bruised knuckles.

But Emma loved Grandpa Jack, and the funeral wasn’t going to be easy for her. She understood death in a way you hadn’t when you were six, hearing the old man’s heart stop from across the hospital lobby during your visit last week.  

Emma shifted against your neck, breathing in your smell. It was as comforting for you as it was for her , her hair tickling your nose.

“Emma?” You whispered, jostling her. “Emma, it’s time to get up.” It was already eight, and the funeral was going to be at ten. You needed a shower and Emma needed breakfast–nothing put her in a worse mood than skipping breakfast.

Emma grumbled, tucking herself deeper in the blankets. You smiled to yourself, sliding out of the blankets. “Fine, but you’re getting up when I’m out of the shower.”

She nodded, tucking her head under the pillows. In another life, John used to do the same thing, growling whenever you tried to wake him before ten. 

You had thought of him often lately. You blamed it on Jack’s death, the scary thought that John might actually turn up at the funeral–but Tom had reassured you that the last he had heard from John was that he was in the Middle East, a half a world away.

You undressed, laying out the neat black dress and ballet flats you had chosen the night before. You kept the door cracked, so you could keep an eye on Emma.

If Jack hadn’t been Emma’s grandfather figure, you would simply not go. John’s mother liked you well enough, at least, more than she liked her son, but you understood why he left.

Not enough to forgive him for it, of course, but that was probably because he spent one night with you, knocked you up, and then disappeared completely for four years. He resurfaced two years ago, reaching out to Tom, your brother and his best friend, by sending an expletive-filled letter about the violent and bloody years he had spent in the military. Tommy came to you first and asked if you wanted him to know about Emma.

That was the kicker. When you learned you were pregnant, you spent months and months trying to reach him, calling whatever high-ranking officer you could find–but they all said the same thing: John Mctavish agreed to have his life before the military erased in the records, therefore he no longer existed.

He had no intention of coming back. And he didn’t even attempt to contact you along with Tommy, the girl that he had grown up with, the girl that used to love him more than anything in the world.

Emma was awake by the time you were out and dressed, her eyes bright at the thought of breakfast. 

“Cereal?” She asked hopefully.

You opened your mouth to refuse, thinking of the sugar but then you remembered that she was going to have to see her grandfather’s corpse today. You shrugged, “Sure, Em, as long as you have eggs too.” Emma nodded eagerly. She had the appetite of a grown man, and wasn’t particularly picky–something you were grateful for every day. 

She was quiet as you cooked, her eyes focused on your black dress. “Do you think Grandpa Jack is going to haunt us?”

You paused, halfway through flipping a fried egg. With Emma, it was best to really think about your answer. “Well,” you said, gesturing for her to start on her plate of raw, sliced liver. “Do you want him to?” “I think so. He could just stay in his armchair like he always used to,” Emma said thoughtfully. “We should leave one of his books out for him, just in case.” Her obsession with ghosts started when bloody Tom let her watch one of those cheesy ghost-hunting shows. Instead of being terrified, she found it exciting, the thought that people can remain even in death. 

To tell her that Grandpa Jack wasn’t going to prop his ghostly specter up on your ratty armchair and read his ancient western novels would break her heart. So you nodded, scraping two eggs onto her plate with the liver. “Alright. We’ll pick one before the funeral. I’m sure he’ll need a break from your cousins bickering by now.” She smiled and dove into the liver. It was good for her, of course, the vitamins and the minerals in organ meat, but that didn’t make you any less squeamish watching your child tearing into the raw flesh. 

Your own breakfast was a cup of black coffee and nerves, your stomach twisting into knots. He wasn’t going to be there, you told yourself. He had stayed away for this long, your idyllic little life with your daughter and your job at the library wasn’t going to be interrupted by the man that had abandoned you.

You didn’t want things to change. You didn’t want him here, in your space, with your daughter that you raised alone. 

Jack and Tom had helped of course. The old man had done his best to teach your little girl to not chew on the furniture or chase the squirrels up the tree, and your parents and Tom spoiled her endlessly.

Emma helped you wash and dry the dishes, nuzzling your hip affectionately. “You smell like you did when you went to work at the book place,” she said, sensing your anxiety. “How come? Do you think Grandpa Jack’s family’ll ruin things?”

Jack’s family, not John’s. You hadn’t told her much about her biological father, and Emma was observant enough to understand that he wasn’t ever going to be around. It didn’t seem to bother her, she had enough males in her life patting her head and teaching her how to play rugby.

“No, of course not, bear,” you said, tweaking one of her dark pigtails. “I’m just…I’m really sad. I’m going to miss your grandfather.”

She nodded, her mouth pursing in that mournful way she did when she was a baby. Back then, you had convinced herself it meant that she somehow knew her father wasn’t there, that you were doing this all alone and she knew you would fuck it up. “I still smell him in the living room.”

You kissed the soft crown of her head. “I know, bear, I’m sorry.” Together, you picked one of his Louis L’Amour novels off your rickety little bookshelf. “This was the one he was reading,” Emma said, carefully opening it to the page he had dog-eared. “We’ve got to remember to turn the pages every day, Mommy. He always reads so slow.”

“Once in the morning and once in the evening,” you agreed, patting the worn-down leather. His imprint was still in the cushions, a big, tall man worn down by years of violence.

You were going to miss him. He had come to your door shortly after Emma was born, a suitcase in hand. “I’m moving in, love,” he said. “She’ll need a wolf in her life and I’m all you’ve got.” You could have cried with relief back then. He had had such a way with her, always shushing her cries by cupping her in his big, callused hands and bringing her to his barrel chest. 

“I raised Johnny and fucked it up,” he had said, following the tiny whorl of her ear with the tip of his finger. “I’ll do my best to help you with her, pup, you loved my boy more than he deserved.”

You helped Emma into her frilly black dress, the one Jack had chosen himself. He wanted to buy her something nice, to be his darling little granddaughter for him one last time. 

She sat quietly while you braided her hair, uncharacteristically still. “Ready?” You asked.

She nodded, glancing one last time to the Louis L’Amour on the armchair.

Tom greeted the two of you at the door, a tall, skinny man that still looked like the stubborn big brother you knew. He had retired from the military last year to settle down in the house across from yours and got a job doing the only thing he really liked doing–which was cooking french dishes for eight hours a day and shouting until he was blue in the face. 

He smiled sadly, sweeping Emma up in a hug. “Hullo, bear,” he said, kissing her cheek. “You look dashing.”

“Grandpa Jack made me wear it,” she said, frowning disapprovingly at the ruffles on the sleeves. 

Tom laughed, but it was hollow, his eyes shifting to you before swiftly flitting away. “Of course he did. Here, I’ll watch Em for a bit if you want to mingle, Johnny’s mother was looking for you.”

Of course she was. Anxiety twisted deeper in your gut, the coffee bubbling up your throat. “Alright,” you said lightly, forcing a nod. “I’ll be inside if you need me, bear.” She nodded, turning to her uncle with a single minded purpose–to convince him to let her have some of the biscuits in the tin he had brought.

Susan, John’s mum, was sitting in the lobby of the funeral home, sorting the trays of casserole into neat rows. She was a thin, tired woman with the same blue eyes as your daughter.

“Susan,” you said, “I heard you were looking for me.” You opened your arms as she came in for a hug, her body brittle against yours. She had been sober for a few years now, mostly because you had refused to let her near Emma while she was drinking–which used to be every day.

“I need to tell you something,” Susan said, gripping your palms in a hard grip. “I just…I don’t know with Daddy gone now…” her eyes welled up.

You hugged her again, shushing her gently. “It’s alright, Susan,” you said, “Whatever it is can’t be that bad.”

Looking back, you were a right bloody idiot. Susan pulled away from you, joy sparking her face as she smiled. “Honey, he’s home.” Stupidly, you thought she was talking about Jack. 

She wasn’t.

The hair prickled at the back of your neck, your body aware before your brain could catch up. Your stomach twisted, dread spilling down your spine like ice.

He was behind you.

You refused to look, your eyes still locked with Susan’s teary gaze. “No,” you said quietly. “No, tell me you didn’t just let me walk into this.”

She had understood when you asked her not to tell John. She understood that her son had chosen war over you once again and that he didn’t deserve to be in your life.

“I’m sorry,” Susan said, squeezing your arm apologetically. 

A hand brushed against your shoulder, big and warm and so familiar it hurt. 

“Hey, bonnie,” John said roughly, his voice deeper than it used to be.

You couldn’t help yourself, you had to see. 

You pushed away from Susan, looking up into the familiar face of John Mctavish. 

He looked ten years older, but no less handsome, scars turning his face into something you didn’t recognize, something like a predator. He was still keeping his hair in that stupid fucking mowhawk, but he had gained an impressive amount of mass, so tall and thick he looked like a stranger.

You couldn’t breathe. 

Johnny. The only man you’ve ever loved. The father of your child.

The man that took your virginity and abandoned you, all in one night.

“It’s been awhile,” he said, his accent twisting up his words. 

You blinked. 

Emma.

Emma was outside and he had no idea. You had to leave, take her away from him. 

“It could have been longer, John,” you said, your voice so cold it stung your tongue as you spoke. The ache in your chest was overtaken by rage, pure and hot. “Excuse me.” You pushed past him, suddenly grateful you hadn’t worn the heels when your knees gave a funny little tremble. 

He moved, as if to catch you, as if to hold you still while he came up with whatever bullshit excuse he could think of–but you were faster, putting the crowd and tables between the two of you as you made a break for the door.

Emma, Emma, Emma.

Tom was with her, her skinny knees in his lap as they split a delicate almond biscuit. 

“Mum?” Her head went up, sniffing the air. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

Tom knew. He looked at you, guilty as sin. “Love,” he began, but you were already ripping her out of his arms, her arms and legs flailing as you made a break for the parking lot.

The funeral home’s door burst open, slamming against the wall with a crash that had you shoving your daughter into the back of your car, utterly deaf to her squawking. 

But John had already seen her. Smelled her. He stood in front of you, frozen in place.

“How old is she?” He asked, deadly calm. His blue eyes burned, like they used to when he was a teen, hormonal and angry. Always so angry.

“Go fuck yourself, Mctavish,” you snapped, reaching for your door. 

He was already there, hand slamming against your car door with a crack that split the air. Johnny really was different now, confidence stiffening his spine, his sheer size making you take a step back. 

What did they do to him overseas? He looked like he was about to eat you alive.

“No,” John said, sounding like a wounded animal. “Ye wouldn’t keep something like this from me.” “You’re right,” you said coldly. “I wouldn’t have. Then I spent three years of her life waiting for you to get your head out of your fucking arse. I called. I emailed. I sent a hundred fucking letters.” He made a noise like you gutted him, his eyes going to Emma.

She was curled up in the back of your car, wide-eyed and staring at John. Her father.

Of course she would know. She could smell it on him, her own flesh and blood.

“I…I didn’t know,” John said, “Hen, look at me-”

“I don’t care.” You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to dig your nails into his skin and hurt him like he hurt you. “We don’t need you, we never needed you. I loved you, and you left for years. Deal with the consequences.”

Johnny Mctavish, a wolf, a soldier, flinched from you. 

It wasn’t the victory you thought it would be.

You ripped your door open, and he let you. You put the car in reverse and sped out of the parking lot, and he let you.

“Mum?” Emma said cautiously. “Mum was that…”

“We’ll never see him again, Em,” you said, utterly sure of that fact. “Forget him. John always runs.”

[wifiwuxians]

Hear me out... Tokyo Mew Mew AU for the Yi City Fam

STOPPP I LITERALLY HAVE A TOKYO MEW MEW AU FOR LIKE A BUNCH OF CHARACTERS AND THEY'RE IN IT LOL BUT THIS NEEDS SOME REWORKING UH

first off, the cast. XY is Kisshu. he has to be. not because of any choice opinions on how to treat a lady or anything but because they're both the little shit who has given me gender envy. AQ is Pudding because look at them. enough said. also ever since i was a kid i was obsessed with the idea of Kisshu and Pudding having a sibling banter bond and i was robbed. i suppose XXC would be the obvious protagonist so Ichigo? I only say this bc I really REALLY WANT SL TO BE DEEP BLUE LMAOOO THAT HAIR!!!!!!! SL is in his villain era now

That aside, obviously it's not all 1:1. I still want to make AQ a monkey girl because that's too cute, but she fights with a staff! The cafe, which in this would be run by XXC himself (inherited it and the research from BSSR?) is less cutesy because they don't need to lure in teenage girls, but it's still a cozy and traditional place where you can rent out hanfu for the day or something adorable like that. Still 100% a front for a secret lab though. XXC's animal would be a great white heron, he'd get majestic wings and a flowy outfit that would still allow him to fight (and fly)! Since it's sort of lame to just have 2 animal people I sort of want SL to also be an animal person (a human-alien hybrid thing who is now also an animal person... save some for the rest of us), so he'd be a leopard >:) XY is just a cute lil alien showing his midriff and fucking around and waiting for his Great Leader to wake the fuck up so everyone can go home and he can kill every human on earth

XY's reason for hating humans, aside from the fact they stole his homeland and poisoned it, is that he was captured as an infant on a recon mission and terribly experimented on. that same recon mission resulted in the death of BSSR and SL's adoptive parents, who were working with her on her alien research. however, they were not the ones to cut this poor boy open, but it doesn't matter. All Scientists Must Die and all humans too.

XXC took AQ off the streets where she was performing for cash and had been doing so for years, he's trying to get her paperwork in order so she can go to school properly. she has no family save for him. they met on a rainy day, where XXC got in an accident trying to prevent AQ from suffering the same fate. she took him to the hospital and stayed by his side and they've been inseparable ever since. XXC never intended for her to get infused with animal DNA, as he wanted this to be a solo thing (it's XXC, he's self sacrificial to a fault), but the machine malfunctioned and she got caught in the blast. she's fine with this, as she would do anything to make XXC happy, even if she hates dealing with customers at the cafe and prefers to be the bookkeeper.

SL was also caught in the blast, as he was visiting the cafe to try and return a book to XXC. they both take the same environmentalism course at uni!! SL is unaware of his adoptive parents' work (until the story conveniently reveals it to him) and only knows they were researching the environment, so he's very studious and dedicated, serious and passionate, so their memory can live on and he can make them proud. but also he just loves nature. he's also unaware of the Darkness Inside Him though he has scary dreams sometimes. XXC is at first horrified to get him involved, but soon loves having him by his side; they train together and uncover more of their parents' research while fighting big weird aliens. XXC has been so alone ever since his mother's passing, putting on a brave face for everyone and trying to keep his spirits high, but AQ and SL becoming important parts of his life has been a balm for his soul. but then XY is there outside his window at 3 AM demanding they throw knives at each other until someone dies or some shit so his studies are falling behind a little bit lmao

as a fun extra, in the original massive AU with a bunch of non Yi City characters, XY was split into two (as i tend to do) and one was Kisshu and the other was Ichigo. think of XY in fun lil strawberry shorts and with the whole cat getup. it was great

SORRY THIS IS SO RAMBLY LMAO I LOVE TMM SM AHHH

[cologona]

All-Caste headcanons:

- Essence is short for “Breath Essence”. She prefers to translate her name rather than to allow anyone to know what it actually is. She is more militant than her mother and generally has a more youthful personality.

- Ducra prefers to tell people the phonetics of her name but never the meaning. Her precognition is clearer and she is generally the more level-headed and capable of conniving.

- Essence and Ducra don’t have true immortality due to rejecting the Spirit of the Well of Sins. Instead they take turns giving birth to one another each time they die.

- While the League’s base is located in the western end of the Himalayas, the Acres of All are located in eastern Tibet. Essence, Ducra, and the Untitled are all Tibetan. (Or more accurately, they’re so old they come from a proto-Tibetan culture.)

- Jason spent a few weeks with the All-Caste during his Lost Days world training tour. Ostensibly to learn meditation and how to protect his mind against outside influence, but in actuality Ducra also wanted to offer Jason the All-Blades. (Talia didn’t know until after Jason had already done the deal.)

- Despite being The Good Guys, the All-Caste are technically still users of black magic. Jason wasn’t really given the All-Blades so much as he was forged. They are a manifestation of his soul. Typically, the only thing left of the ritual’s subject is the blade. That Jason is alive to use, and even mutate the number and shape of the All-Blades is an anomaly. (Ducra foresaw this -among other events- which is why she made the offer in the first place.)

- Having become a spiritual weapon, if Jason ever dies for real he will almost certainly neither go to hell nor heaven. The condition that the All-Blades can only be drawn in the presence of evil is something Jason himself asked for. His magic glowing tattoo is a curse meant to allow him a modicum of agency even if he loses everything else.

- After Jason emerged from his meditation in the caves, Essence took him on a day out to do some mounted shooting. This is how Jason learns to ride a horse. Despite some members of the All-Caste feeling uneasy about involving him, for a variety reasons both political and ethical, Jason’s time with the All-Caste ends on a high note.

- The Untitled thrive in a miserable psychic environment like plants, and are basically energy vampires. Although they have a craving for human flesh (and are even able to learn information based on the organ consumed), cannibalism isn’t necessary for them.

- The treaty between the All-Caste and Untitled determined that the League of Assassins would protect the Well of Sins as a sort of neutral third party, and as long as neither the All-Caste nor Untitled ‘significantly interfered with mortal matters’ they would not go to war again. Both the All-Caste and the Untitled pushed the boundaries of this treaty over time though.

- The “Rahul Lama” that Tim learned pressure points from in Paris was a former student of the All-Caste!

[bridgyrose]

Penny nearly flinched as she heard the sound of a hammer slamming down onto molten metal, her eyes wandered around to look at the spirits that flew around her like fireflies. It was unlike anywhere she’d seen on Remnant, and yet, almost familiar to her. As if it was something she’d seen in a dream. “W-where… am I?” 

“This is the Ever After,” the Blacksmith replied as they looked up from the anvil, almost curious as they looked over Penny. “Though, you aren’t one of mine.” 

“One of yours?” 

“Someone who belongs in the Ever After. No, you’re a lost soul. One that shouldnt belong here, but needs help.” 

“I-I guess I am lost,” Penny answered quietly as she looked away. “Though, I-I am not sure how I got here to begin with. I know I died, but I… I do not know why I am here.” 

“No one in the Ever After dies, they ascend,” the Blacksmith answered. “You must’ve been caught between Remnant and here instead, so instead of making it to the afterlife in Remnant, you’ll be allowed to ascend and take on a new life.” 

“But I do not want a new life, I want the one I had with Ruby.” A faint blush crossed her cheeks as she said those words and a smile crossed her lips. “She made me feel… human. Like every part of me mattered and that I was more than just a weapon. That I was loved and cared for, that I was allowed to be my own person. I-I do not wish to live a life where I did not know Ruby.” 

The Blacksmith smiled and offered a piece of floating array to Penny. “Choosing yourself is always an option, though I cannot guarantee where you’ll end up once you’re back, only that you’ll arrive where you’re needed most.” 

Penny nodded and reached for her weapon, only to pause as she caught her reflection in the blade. For a brief moment, she had thought about choosing a different life, one where she could be anyone she wanted. One where she didnt have to be her. And yet, even with those thoughts in mind, she took hold of her sword. 

The blade itself was warm, nothing like how she thought it’d been. She smiled at the Blacksmith as she felt herself start to get pulled away. “Thank you.” 

“Good luck, Penny.” 

Penny took a deep breath as she felt her body plunge into a pool of white light beneath her, only for everything around her to turn black. Then she felt a pain in her side as she gasped, green eyes opening wide as she started to pant. Finally, she started to get her bearings as she realized she was on a cot in a tent. 

“You’re finally awake,” a young man said with a smile. “Mom said you were probably as good as dead when we found you. Figured some bandits left you for dead after taking anything they could from you. She’ll be surprised you’re awake.” 

Penny nodded and sat up, wincing as the wound on her stomach started to act up. Her fingers clutched at the bandages around her side, still getting used to the feeling of being alive again. “Where… where am I?” 

“About four days north of Vacuo,” the young man answered. “Though we’re probably going to get moving again in a few days. You’re welcome to stay with us until we can get to a village that has an airship. Otherwise, we might be able to lend you a horse once you’re feeling up to traveling.” 

“That is fine, I can call my friends and-” Penny paused for a moment as she searched through the pockets of her dress, unable to find her scroll. She frowned a bit and leaned back a bit. “Or not. Do you have a scroll I can borrow? I am sure Ruby is worried about me.” 

“I’m sure we can find one. By the way, I’m Garnet Valkyrie.” 

“Penny Polendina,” Penny answered. 

“Its nice to meet you. I’ll let you rest and grab some food for you.” 

Penny relaxed a bit and laid down. “Valkyrie, huh?” she thought to herself. The only Valkyrie she knew was Nora, though now that she thought about it, Garnet did look a lot like her. The same orange hair and blue eyes, though he did seem to have the same smile as Ren along with his skin tone. 

She sat up again as she heard someone outside the tent, then paused once she saw a woman walk in with a plate of meat and bread for her. Familiar orange hair had a few streaks of gray, her skin was scarred in a way that looked like lightning had run through her body. 

“You must be Penny,” the woman said as she placed the plate down next to Penny. “Garnet said you woke up and I wanted to meet you myself.” 

Penny nodded and took the plate, still staring at the woman. Now hearing her voice, without a doubt she knew exactly who this was. “Thanks, Nora.” 

Nora cocked a brow. “How do you know my name?” 

“Its me, Penny,” Penny answered as she tried to move off the cot and stand up, wincing before she could move enough to get her legs over the side. “Though it seems to have been a long time.” 

Nora took a step back as she looked Penny over. “P-Penny… but you… Ruby told us you were killed… how are you back?” 

“I do not understand it myself.” Penny looked over her hand and smiled a bit. “But I met a woman who gave me another chance. A chance to be with Ruby again and to help others.” 

“That… might be a problem,” Nora said quietly. “A lot has changed since you died.” 

“LIke what? And where is Ruby?” 

“Assuming Weiss hasnt moved her yet, she’s still buried out on Patch.” 

“I… I do not understand.” 

Nora sighed and sat down. “Ruby was killed by Cinder just a couple years after Atlas fell. Then we lost Sun and Coco while trying to reclaim Vale and the relic. We lost a lot of friends while trying to stop Salem.” 

Penny felt her heart stop for a moment as she listened, her whole reason for being alive gone. She was supposed to be here for Ruby, and yet, with Ruby gone… A tear fell into her lap and she moved a finger to her eye to wipe away a few more, not sure when she had started to cry. “I… I want to see her.” 

“Ren and I will send out a rider to the closest village to see if they have an airship that can take you to Patch.” Nora sat up and gave Penny a sad smile. “I’m glad to see you again, but… I’d be careful giving your name out. A few of the churches see you as a saint now. If they find out you’re back, its anyone’s guess about what they’ll do.” 

“Thanks, Nora.” Penny slowly picked up some meat with her fork, staring at her reflection on her fork. She still looked like she did all those years ago, out of place compared to everyone else. But now, she had a start. She’d go to Patch and visit Ruby and then try to find her place in this world. 

Weeks went by as Penny healed and an airship came for her to take her to Patch, and over those weeks she learned more about what she had missed. Salem had been defeated a little over a couple decades ago and a monument now stood in a reclaimed Vale to memorialize those that lost their lives to stopping Salem. Atlas had been rebuilt and renamed as Neo Atlas, a reminder to humanity that nothing is ever lost. And the grimm had started to become restless. Without Salem to control them, while many areas saw grimm keeping to themselves, others like Mistral started to see the grimm attack in larger groups, making it harder to keep villages safe away from the kingdom walls. Even as the airship flew over Vale, she could still see the mark that Salem left with her grimm river, much of the farmland now dead due to the grimm. 

“We’ll be arriving at Patch shortly,” the pilot said over the speakers. “Please stay seated in case of grimm activity.” 

Penny stared outside the window for a little longer before making her way back to her seat, her heart pounding in her chest as her emotions ran wild. Love, grief, terror, anger… all of it still new to her. She took a few deep breaths to calm her heart as the airship descended, lucky that there werent any airborne grimm around to halt the descent. Finally the airship landed and Penny clutched the armrest of her seat. 

“You may now depart.” 

Penny slowly got up and filed out of the airship with everyone else with shaky steps. Cold air hit her cheeks as she stepped off the airship, a reminder that it was mid fall. She shivered as she walked away from the landing pad and into the streets of Patch, pulling what was left of Ruby’s cloak that Nora gave her over her shoulders. It wasnt warm, but it at least kept the breeze off as she walked through the small town and out towards the place Nora said Ruby had been buried. 

It took almost an hour for Penny to reach the gravesite, her cheeks red from the cold wind and her body aching from the cold. She hadnt been sure what to expect, but seeing Ruby’s grave next to her mother’s did bring her a bit of comfort. Penny knelt down and rubbed her hands together to try to keep warm. Tears welled up and stung her eyes as it finally hit her that Ruby was gone. 

She wasnt sure how long she sat there on her knees shivering, but as the cold air stopped, she looked up to see a glyph behind the grave blocking the wind. Then, she turned to her left, then to her right to see a woman she didnt quite recognize  standing next to her. At least, until she saw the scar underneath what she could only describe as stress induced wrinkles. “Thanks,” Penny said quietly. 

“Its a bit cold to be out here dressed like that, dont you think?” Weiss asked. 

“I-I just came from Vacuo. I did not expect it to be this cold.” 

“Maybe this will help.” 

Penny paused when she saw Weiss hand over a green cloak, almost surprised that she still had the cloak that Ruby had given her in Atlas. She slowly reached for it, then pulled away. “I-I cannot accept-” 

“Please, take it, its only going to get colder tonight.” 

Penny nodded and took the cloak from Weiss and put it over her shoulders. The fabric felt warm against her skin, much warmer than what she had before. “I will make sure to return it to you before I leave.” 

Weiss shook her head. “After Ruby passed, we thought we went through everything she had. I only found this today when I got a message about a lockbox we never knew about. I was planning to leave it as an offering for her, but I think she’ll be happy to know its being put to good use now.” 

“I am glad she kept it,” Penny whispered under her breath. Her chest felt warm as she kept the cloak around her arms, glad she had something more to remember Ruby by. “How do you know she would not mind?” 

“She always wanted to help people even until she died.” Weiss knelt down and lit a small candle at the side of Ruby’s grave. “What brings you out to her? Only a few of us know she’s here.” 

“I-I wanted to… pay my respects to one of the fallen heroes,” Penny lied as a small hiccough escaped her lips. Well, it wasnt a complete lie, she did want to pay respects to Ruby, but not because she was a hero. Because of what she meant to Ruby, to try to say the words she never did to her. “But I should get going.” 

“Since you’re out here, why not come to my place for some tea to warm up? Next airship wont leave until morning and it’ll be a pain to get a room at the inn.” 

“That… that would be lovely.” 

“I’m Weiss,” Weiss said as she stood up and offered a hand to Penny. “What’s your name?” 

“P-Pen- Penelope,” Penny answered through another hiccough. She took Weiss’s hand and smiled a bit. “I go by Peneolpe.” 

“You look familiar. Like an old friend I knew.” 

“Maybe you can tell me stories about her. A-and Ruby. I would very much like to hear more about Ruby.”

“Tea first to warm you up, and then I can tell you a few stories.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny motioned for her swords to swing around to slice through the grimm, a smile crossing her lips as she watched the blades move as commanded. It took months to get everything to work, and while she was glad that she could finally take them on a test run, the amount of grimm that were showing up had started to worry her. She looked behind her towards the caravan she was protecting, yelling between breaths. “Get across the bridge now!”

“Are you sure you can handle this?” the caravan leader yelled back. “There’s no shame in blowing the bridge!”

“My job is to make sure you get across the bridge and to the next village!” Penny took a few steps back towards the bridge, eyes on the grimm in front of her. “I will follow once you are across!”

“We’ll hold you to that, Penelope!”

Penny sighed as she heard the name, still not quite used to being called it. Still, she couldnt worry about that now, not while the grimm were more aggressive than normal. Her blades stayed between her and the grimm as she tried to keep them from the caravan. Then, she paused as a larger beowolf made its way closer. She swore the eyes were silver instead of red, her body freezing as she remembered the Hound when it attacked.

She came out of her thoughts as she felt the grimm ran into her. Penny lost her footing and fell back, slipping off the edge of the bridge. No scream left her lips as she fell down the abyss, swearing she saw silver eyes staring back at her as she listened to the caravan leader call out her name. Soon, she felt water rush around her. It was warmer than she had expected, almost turning to light as she continued to sink. She closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate until she felt air across her face.

Penny gasped as she swam to shore and climbed out of the water, coughing as her body practically glowed. She picked herself up and started to walk back to the bridge she had fallen from, pausing as she watched a gash on her arm heal itself. With a sigh, she continued moving on forward, ready to continue her work.

[oakthcrn]

𝑻𝑯𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑺 𝑫𝑰𝑫 𝑯𝑰𝒁𝑬𝑵𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑮. 

A Dragon Age verse loved and crafted by Jackie

Read More under the cut.

Lark remembered her earliest days within the great city state of Starkhaven. Her parents were elves that lived in the alienage. She remembered playing there until her family decided to leave Starkhaven for Tevinter. What she later learned was that her father got a job with the Shadow Dragons. They moved to Minrathous when Lark was eight years old. It was a whole new world for Lark, but she didn’t mind, she made friends with a human boy named Caelum Tsukino. They were inseparable, and his parents were also in the Shadow Dragons. They were taught together, ate together, and went everywhere together. Lark learned how to wield blades and bows while Caelum honed his magic. Life was good, and Lark enjoyed the times where she traveled with her father to Treviso to treat with the Crows. She often played with the crows her age and made friends. 

For several years this was how it was. Life was hard but good. Lark officially became a Dragon after the loss of her father, who was killed on a mission, and her mother died from illness a year later. All she had left was Caelum, whom she had fallen deeply in love with. She protected him at all costs, and he loved her in return. Lark took the nickname “ Rook ” given to her by Varric. 

After getting involved with a difficult duty of tracking Venatori, Lark and Caelum became engaged, and after the mission, they would be married. However, during a scouting mission, they were ambushed by Venatori, and taken captive. Both of them endured torture, and pain for several days. Lark tried to escape, and was severely wounded. She couldn’t protect Caelum as they took him away for a strange ritual. Lark was angry, so much so it attracted a powerful demon known as Retribution, once a spirit of Protection. . He promised her that if he allowed him to possess her, then she would get her revenge. Lark accepted the terms, and when the demon, who introduced himself as Hizenfrae, thrummed with an unnatural fiery strength. She forced herself up and despite the pain in her wounds, she interrupted the ritual, and murdered the venatori savagely. Through her blades did Hizenfrae sing. However, to Lark’s horror, Caelum had been drained of blood. 

She had to get to Varric, and get help, she pushed herself so far that her body eventually gave out and she fell down the shaft. Not even the demon could wake her. Fortunately, she was found by Varric and taken back to the hideout to recover. When she awoke, she confided only in Varric of what happened. Told him of Hizenfrae and made him swear not to tell another living soul. They held a funeral for Caelum, and Lark vowed she would destroy every single Venatori. Over the next two years, Lark continued her work as a Shadow Dragon, and her bond with Hizenfrae became stronger. He was strange for a demon, he didn’t take control and only made an appearance when Lark’s life was threatened. He remained dormant, except when it came to battle. He would channel his power through the blades that Lark wielded. Eventually, she joined Varric in hunting the Dreadwolf.

[the-sonic-crew]

Ehhh I got more OCs I made

Maximilian Forrest

He is a single father and dwells on West Side Island, he has a no nonsense attitude and won't take any bullshit from anyone, usually hitting them with simple "Mmhmm" 's or death stares until they go silent. He isn't a pushover as he has immense strength, capable of tossing things like semi trucks with ease or prying open those heavy metal doors. He can be a bit bitter, but will never show it around his daughter and son, taking pride in his role of being a father. He also silently suffered from depression after his wife, Dolly, died from a car accident, but after a few unexplainable events (to those who don't believe in the supernatural), he was able to get over it.

Annabelle "Ana" Forrest

Max's youngest child (and also his biological child). She is a bit around Tails' age and just like him, is an inventor herself. She idolizes him and that's why she took up the role, striving to help people as well. She can be a bit hyperactive, having to get her something to fidget with so she can at least sit down. She was born with something strange that allowed her pawpads on both her hands and feet to become adhesive, allowing her to climb and crawl on walls and ceilings with ease, the soles of her sneakers being thinner so she can still have this feature. She also owns a battlesuit and an android named Meder, usually found in the basement at late hours making tweaks to both.

Michael Edwards

Max's eldest (and adopted) son. He is around Knuckles' age. He is a HUGE introvert and chooses not to interact with people due to traumatic events in his life, which also led to him becoming blind in one eye. He is bitter and stoical to most but not around Max and Ana, usually more open to them. He is an excellent swordsman, having a katana and pitch perfect play with it, along with the ability to flash step and disorientate enemies. He also owns a plushie of his that he kept when he was five years old, always sleeping with it as he finds comfort in it, not caring about others' opinions about it being childish.

D̶̘̓͠ò̷̢͋l̶̢͊͘l̴͇̥͒y̶̤͗͘ ̷͓̥͛F̴̼̋̓o̴͓͓̐ṛ̸̡̒́r̶̮̅̑ͅe̴̠̍̚s̵̹͝t̷͙̔ͅ

Max's deceased wife. She would be around Vanilla's age. She doesn't say much, staying unnaturally silent and still (she only moves when whoever sees her blinks). Dolly won't answer any questions or talk at all, only being able to talk with the family and Meder. She has a physical form, which is thin, tall, and has both arms broken along with a gash in her side along with her dress being bloodied. In some instances, she can be seen looking normally, yet she will be transparent and have human-like eyes in the sockets. Dolly is only able to be seen at nighttime, usually near the Forrest residence or the street where she got in the crash. It isn't known what she can do, yet those who attack her either return traumatic silent or are never seen again. She does have some relationship with Max still, both being seen dancing together to slow waltzes, which Max very much enjoys. She can also control the environment around her in ways that spirits can do, like throwing stuff across rooms, making the air colder, or turning doll heads.

This is pretty long, so, divider time!

Max

Sonic

Sonic would admire Max’s strength and no-nonsense attitude, though he might find him a bit too serious. Sonic would likely try to crack a joke to lighten the mood, but he’d respect Max’s dedication to his kids and probably think of him as “tough, but cool.”

Tails

Tails would be impressed by Max’s strength and might feel a little intimidated by his stern demeanor. However, seeing Max’s softer side with his kids would make Tails warm up to him. Tails might also be curious about Max’s backstory and any “supernatural” elements.

Knuckles

Knuckles would instantly respect Max for his immense strength and dedication as a father. He’d probably see Max as a kindred spirit—someone who takes their responsibilities seriously. Knuckles might challenge Max to an arm-wrestling match to test his strength, though.

Amy

Amy would feel a mix of emotions about Max. She’d admire his strength and commitment to his family but would also be concerned about his bitterness and depression. Amy might try to get him to open up emotionally, seeing it as her duty to help him heal further.

Cream

Cream would be shy around Max at first, finding him intimidating. However, seeing how loving he is toward his kids would put her at ease, and she’d think of him as a “nice, but serious man.”

Vanilla

Vanilla would respect Max greatly for his dedication to fatherhood and his strength, both emotional and physical. She might see him as a role model for parents and offer him advice or support when needed.

Big

Big would probably get along with Max surprisingly well. He wouldn’t be fazed by Max’s serious demeanor and might admire his strength. Big’s laid-back attitude might even help Max relax a little.

Shadow

Shadow would respect Max’s strength and straightforward personality. He might feel a sense of camaraderie with Max over their shared experiences with loss and silently dealing with pain. Shadow would appreciate Max’s no-nonsense approach and would likely see him as someone worth trusting.

Rouge

Rouge would be intrigued by Max, finding his strength and no-nonsense attitude appealing. She might tease him to see if she can break through his serious exterior, but she’d ultimately respect his dedication to his family.

Eggman

Eggman would see Max as a potential threat due to his immense strength. He’d likely want to study or neutralize him, considering Max could easily dismantle his machines or plans. Eggman might also see Max’s stoicism as a challenge to his own flair for dramatics.

Dr. Starline

Dr. Starline would likely analyze Max with clinical interest, viewing him as a curious anomaly of physical power. He might consider recruiting Max for one of his schemes, though Max’s strong moral compass would likely clash with Starline’s manipulative tendencies.

Whisper

Whisper would likely keep her distance at first, cautious of Max’s stern demeanor. However, seeing his softer side with his kids might help her feel more comfortable around him, and she’d respect his quiet strength and resilience.

Tangle

Tangle would be both intimidated and fascinated by Max. She’d admire his strength and might playfully try to spar with him, even if it’s more for fun than anything serious. Tangle would also respect his role as a father and might try to bring out his fun side.

Metal Sonic

Metal Sonic would likely see Max as an obstacle to overcome, analyzing his immense strength as a potential threat to Eggman’s plans. Metal wouldn’t hold any personal feelings about Max but would focus on neutralizing him if ordered. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ana

Sonic

Sonic would think Ana is a cool and energetic kid. He’d probably tease her about climbing walls, calling her a "super-spy" or something equally lighthearted. He’d admire her determination to help people and might encourage her to take breaks so she doesn’t burn herself out.

Tails

Tails would love Ana. He’d feel flattered that she idolizes him and would probably take her under his wing, seeing her as a kindred spirit. They’d likely bond over inventing, sharing ideas and helping each other with their projects. Tails might even offer to help her refine her battlesuit or android.

Knuckles

Knuckles would find Ana’s hyperactivity a little exhausting, but he’d respect her inventive skills and her unique climbing ability. He might even ask her for tips on improving his climbing or suggest she use her adhesive pawpads for treasure hunting.

Amy

Amy would think Ana is adorable and inspiring. She’d be impressed by her inventiveness and dedication to helping others, encouraging her to keep working toward her goals. Amy might also give her advice on balancing work and fun, worried that Ana might overwork herself.

Cream

Cream would find Ana fascinating and might be a little in awe of her inventiveness. She’d likely admire Ana’s climbing ability and battlesuit, seeing her as a superhero-like figure. They’d probably get along well, with Cream appreciating Ana’s energy and creativity.

Vanilla

Vanilla would admire Ana’s intelligence and determination, but she might also worry about her staying up late in the basement. She’d likely suggest that Ana take better care of herself while still supporting her goals and interests.

Big

Big would find Ana delightful. He’d probably marvel at her climbing abilities and might suggest they go on some sort of outdoor adventure together. Big’s calm demeanor might even help Ana relax a little when she’s feeling hyperactive.

Shadow

Shadow would initially be indifferent to Ana’s hyperactivity but would respect her intelligence and resolve. If he saw her dedication to helping people, he might even see her as someone with a strong moral compass, which he’d quietly admire.

Rouge

Rouge would be intrigued by Ana’s climbing ability and might jokingly ask if Ana is after her treasure. She’d admire Ana’s inventiveness and suggest that her skills could be very lucrative, though she’d respect her decision to help people instead.

Eggman

Eggman would see Ana as a potential rival or, worse, a threat to his plans. He’d be impressed by her inventiveness and might even try to recruit her to work for him, though her strong moral compass would make that highly unlikely.

Dr. Starline

Dr. Starline would likely analyze Ana’s skills and climbing abilities, considering her a potential wildcard in his plans. He might view her as an interesting anomaly and a possible adversary, especially if she starts interfering with his schemes.

Whisper

Whisper would be shy around Ana at first but would warm up to her after seeing her genuine passion for helping others. Whisper might quietly admire Ana’s skills and climbing ability, thinking she’d be a useful ally in dangerous situations.

Tangle

Tangle and Ana would get along amazingly. Tangle would love Ana’s hyperactivity and climbing abilities, probably challenging her to a race up a wall or through an obstacle course. They’d likely become fast friends, bonding over their shared energy and love for helping others.

Metal Sonic

Metal Sonic would regard Ana as a potential threat, especially due to her battlesuit and inventiveness. He’d probably consider her climbing ability a minor nuisance but take her technological skills much more seriously, analyzing her as a tactical risk.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Micheal

Sonic

Sonic would think Michael is tough and cool, especially with his katana skills and flash step abilities. He might try to coax Michael out of his shell, encouraging him to loosen up and have some fun, but he’d ultimately respect Michael’s introversion and personal boundaries. Sonic would probably tease him lightly about the plushie but would back off if he realized it meant a lot to Michael.

Tails

Tails would be intrigued by Michael’s skills and his stoic personality. He’d probably try to be friendly but might find Michael a little intimidating at first. If Michael ever opened up to Tails, they could form a bond, especially if Michael showed interest in Tails’ gadgets or inventions.

Knuckles

Knuckles would respect Michael immediately. They’d likely bond over their stoicism and sense of independence. Knuckles might even see Michael as a rival in terms of combat skills, challenging him to a sparring match to test his swordsmanship. Knuckles would find Michael’s loyalty to Max and Ana admirable.

Amy

Amy would feel for Michael, especially after learning about his trauma. She’d want to help him feel more comfortable around people, but she’d respect his boundaries. Amy might also admire his loyalty to his family and his skill with a katana.

Cream

Cream would initially be shy around Michael due to his stoic demeanor, but his kindness toward Max and Ana would make her warm up to him. She might even ask about his plushie, seeing it as a sign of his softer side, and admire that he doesn’t care what others think about it.

Vanilla

Vanilla would respect Michael’s quiet strength and the care he shows for his family. She’d likely encourage him to embrace the things that bring him comfort, like his plushie, while gently suggesting ways he could open up to others when he feels ready.

Big

Big would be friendly and unbothered by Michael’s stoicism, likely commenting on how “cool” his katana skills are. Big might even relate to Michael’s attachment to his plushie, considering Big’s own childlike simplicity.

Shadow

Shadow would probably see a lot of himself in Michael, particularly his stoic nature and past trauma. He’d respect Michael’s combat skills and might see him as a potential ally. Shadow wouldn’t judge him for his plushie and might even silently admire Michael’s unapologetic embrace of what brings him comfort.

Rouge

Rouge would find Michael fascinating, especially his skill with a katana and his mysterious, stoic nature. She might tease him about the plushie but would quickly realize it’s not something to joke about. Rouge would respect his independence and strength, and she might even see him as someone worth recruiting for a mission.

Eggman

Eggman would see Michael as a potential problem due to his combat skills and flash step ability. He’d probably devise a way to neutralize Michael’s speed and try to exploit his introversion as a weakness, though he’d underestimate Michael’s resilience.

Dr. Starline

Dr. Starline would analyze Michael as a dangerous adversary, viewing his swordsmanship and flash step as significant threats. He’d likely see Michael as a wildcard, someone who could easily disrupt his plans if provoked.

Whisper

Whisper would understand Michael’s introversion and trauma, finding his stoic demeanor relatable. She’d respect his boundaries and might see him as someone she could trust, especially after witnessing his loyalty to his family. Their shared quiet strength could lead to an unspoken camaraderie.

Tangle

Tangle would initially find Michael a bit intimidating due to his reserved personality, but she’d admire his swordsmanship and might try to get him to spar with her just for fun. She’d probably find his attachment to his plushie endearing and wouldn’t tease him about it, respecting how it brings him comfort.

Metal Sonic

Metal Sonic would see Michael as a significant threat, analyzing his combat abilities and speed as obstacles to overcome. Metal would focus on finding weaknesses in Michael’s technique to exploit in a fight.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

D̶̘̓͠ò̷̢͋l̶̢͊͘l̴͇̥͒y̶̤͗͘ ̷͓̥͛F̴̼̋̓o̴͓͓̐ṛ̸̡̒́r̶̮̅̑ͅe̴̠̍̚s̵̹͝t̷͙̔ͅ

Sonic

Sonic would feel a mix of unease and fascination. Her supernatural presence and eerie silence would make him cautious, but seeing her dance with Max would soften his view, making him realize she’s a lingering figure of love rather than pure terror. Sonic would still be wary of her powers, though.

Tails

Tails would likely want to understand the science (or lack thereof) behind Dolly’s spectral presence. Her ability to manipulate the environment would intrigue him, though her eerie demeanor might scare him a little at first. Once he saw her softer side with Max and Ana, he’d become less afraid and more respectful.

Knuckles

Knuckles would instinctively be on guard around Dolly, viewing her as a potential threat due to her mysterious powers. However, if he learned about her connection to Max and her tragic story, he’d respect her as a protective spirit and likely keep his distance out of reverence.

Amy

Amy would initially be frightened by Dolly’s appearance and abilities, but once she saw her waltzing with Max or looking after her family, Amy’s romantic side would come through. She’d see Dolly as a symbol of enduring love, which she’d find bittersweet and beautiful.

Cream

Cream would likely be very scared of Dolly at first, especially due to her eerie movements and silence. However, if Dolly ever showed any kindness toward Ana or the family, Cream would see her as a protective, motherly figure and eventually warm up to the idea of her presence.

Vanilla

Vanilla would approach Dolly with cautious respect. She’d likely understand Dolly’s lingering connection to her family and view her as a tragic figure rather than a threat. Vanilla might even offer her condolences to Max for his loss, acknowledging Dolly’s continued presence as a testament to their love.

Big

Big would be spooked by Dolly but wouldn’t harbor ill feelings toward her. His simple and accepting nature might lead him to view her as a natural part of the world, even if she’s a ghost. He might avoid her presence but wouldn’t judge her.

Shadow

Shadow would have a mix of respect and caution toward Dolly. Her tragic backstory and undying connection to her family would resonate with him, though her eerie presence and unknown capabilities would keep him on guard. He’d likely admire her strength in protecting her family even in death.

Rouge

Rouge would find Dolly’s presence unnerving but intriguing. She might jokingly call her "creepy" but would appreciate the power Dolly has over her environment. Rouge would ultimately respect her as a protective figure and avoid provoking her.

Eggman

Eggman would likely view Dolly as a supernatural anomaly to be studied—or as a nuisance to be neutralized if she interferes with his plans. He’d be wary of her powers and might try to create technology to counteract her, though he’d also underestimate the emotional strength tied to her presence.

Dr. Starline

Starline would see Dolly as a wildcard, something beyond his understanding or control. Her ability to traumatize or eliminate attackers would make him extremely cautious, viewing her as a serious threat. He might study her from afar but wouldn’t risk provoking her directly.

Whisper

Whisper would immediately sense Dolly’s haunting presence and might initially treat her as a threat. However, seeing Dolly’s connection to her family and her protective nature would soften Whisper’s perspective, leading her to view Dolly as a tragic but honorable figure.

Tangle

Tangle would be freaked out at first but would quickly become curious about Dolly’s story and abilities. She might jokingly try to interact with her (possibly making a lighthearted comment about blinking), though she’d stop if Dolly’s presence turned hostile or overly eerie.

Metal Sonic

Metal Sonic would see Dolly as a potential obstacle but would struggle to comprehend her supernatural nature. Her ability to traumatize or eliminate attackers would make her a high-priority threat in his programming, though her motives wouldn’t align with his logic.

[dlanadhz]

Love's Clumsy Guide

Title: Love's Clumsy Guide Fandom: Last Twilight Tags: Supernatural, Mhok is a Cupid, Alternate Universe, Red String of Fate, True Love, Soulmates, Happy Ending, Elements of Buddhism and Hinduism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Canonical Character Death

Summary: Mhok is a sprite, maneuvering through the populace of Thailand. His duty as a sprite is to help souls find their matches. A sort of true love, soul mate deal. Mhok had no problem with this duty until the day his sister died. Now, coarse and adverse to the idea of true love, Mhok has slackened in his duties. Until a blind young man takes notice of him and reminds him that love is something worth fighting for. But while Mhok’s belief in love might still be salvaged, is it too late to save him from a god’s wrath? AO3 Chapter Link: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Tumblr Chapter Link: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7

Chapter 1 below the cut. Word count: 5,071

The sun was high, but the breeze was cool, brushing through the folds of clothes as it danced among the crowds. Mhok sat on a fence post and watched people passing, smiling at what he saw. Lines twisted from person to person, linking them together like ghostly ribbons, and Mhok could see where each thread led - even if it led miles away. As a woman walked within a breath of his seat, he reached out and touched the threads of fate that trailed off her soul.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the fluttering feeling of every connection and then easily finding the one he was looking for.

“Well, it’s your lucky day,” he mused, twisting his finger and curling a thread around it. It did not impede the woman’s movement, but Mhok hopped up to follow her anyway.

He knew from touching the strand exactly who this strand led to. Her soul’s best match – her soulmate, as some might say – was on the other end. Luckily for her, it was Mhok’s job to bring these two souls closer together. Without sprites like Mhok, these two people may never meet, and the energy of their love would be lost on the world. Bringing soulmates together, whether romantic or platonic, gave a burst of soul energy back to the world, allowing more positive energy to bring peace and goodness to people.

Mhok loved his job because he was a sucker for love himself. Though, being an invisible sprite, he had never known love for himself, he just relished watching the dance people did as they tiptoed closer to true love and happiness. Maybe it was corny, but he was a real romantic.

It was his sister’s fault. She was his twin spirit, the closest to a soulmate someone like him would ever get. She understood him and he understood her, and she taught him how to bring souls together faster and with more sweetness than he had figured out for himself. She had a knack for pulling together souls that seemed like they would never match, but once they did they gave a burst of energy so large that all the spirits felt an energy high for months.

Once Mhok finished getting this woman matched, he would go find his sister to brag. Undoubtedly, she would have gotten two or three pairs together in the time it took him to do one, but that was fine. He liked giving her a chance to show off. She always looked so proud and happy.

The woman was walking up to a temple now, and Mhok trailed behind her, eyes scanning the people around. He could feel her pair was nearby, like a tingling on his skin. After a few moments, the woman knelt to pray, and Mhok felt the thread around his finger go taught.

“Gotcha,” he whispered, quiet so no one would hear him.

He might be hard to detect, but humans weren’t completely dumb. If he was too loud or too obvious, people could still notice him, and that was not recommended. Humanity historically didn’t respond well to supernatural creatures in their midst. If he stayed quiet, he’d remain a flicker on the edge of their peripheral vision, a glimmer of light they quickly dismissed.

Sprites could make themselves visible, of course. Sometimes humans needed a more hands-on approach to get them headed in the right direction. But the sprites and gods Mhok knew always preferred to keep that as a final option, not a first one.

Well, some sprites let themselves be seen for other reasons. Rung, for example, claimed to be in love with a human, and she often let herself be visible to talk to him. He seemed nice enough, and he would die relatively soon – all humans did – so Mhok wasn’t too worried. His sister was smart and wouldn’t reveal her true nature to a human.

The string on Mhok’s hand pulled tight again, drawing Mhok’s eye away from the woman.

A man was entering the temple from another staircase. If Mhok did nothing, his woman would leave the way she’d come and they’d never meet on this day. But Mhok wasn’t going to sit idly by, not when their string of fate was so strong. So when the woman stood up, Mhok let out a slow breath and tugged on the string wrapped around his finger.

The woman gasped as she tripped and stumbled away from her own staircase. At the same time, the man stumbled in her direction. When they had both regained their footing, they glanced up and noticed each other. The woman smiled shyly, and though the man appeared confident, he was embarrassed too.

“Oh, pardon me,” the woman said, bowing her head slightly. “I’m not usually that clumsy.”

“Me neither,” the man said. “Ah, have you finished your visit?”

And just like that, they struck up a conversation. The string in Mhok’s fingers hummed with delight, and he gently pulled his hand free. Quietly, he slipped away and down the steps.

When strings were so obviously connected, it wasn’t hard to begin an attraction. These two had easily felt drawn together, and the man would end up walking her home. They would soon be together, and that alone would give energy back to the gods and the world. And since they were a romantic pair, when they exchanged a vow of promise to each other, that energy would grow exponentially.

It was the strings Rung toyed with that were impressive. She loved finding those hard to see strings, the ones that even they could barely see but which trembled when you noticed them and grew into the strongest bonds of all when nurtured.

Mhok had chosen an easy couple for the day, so undoubtedly Rung would have a better story.

Outside of the temple, Mhok walked down the river and to a bridge where he always met his sister. They would watch the sunset together and then head home, as they always did. But normally, Rung was already waiting on the bridge. Instead, Mhok was the only sprite visible when he reached the middle. Strange.

He raised his hand, prepared to call on his sister, when a young man crossed in front of him and Mhok had to abruptly stop moving so as not to run into him. Mhok watched the young man walk away, and it even seemed that the young man glanced back at Mhok for a moment. In that brief moment, Mhok’s heart rate sped up with anticipation. The urge to be seen, to be noticed, welled up inside him. Especially by a cutie like that guy. But then the man turned away, a confused expression on his face, and he continued on, unaware of the sprite he’d just nearly run into.

Frowning, Mhok rubbed at his chest. He needed to learn not to get his hopes up like that. He wasn’t human, and most humans didn’t give him a second glance. And if they did, he knew he was supposed to run away. There weren’t many good tales of humans and sprites mingling. Worst case scenario, that cute young man would try to kill him. Best case, he’d ask Mhok for some kind of supernatural favor. There was no friendship to be had with humans.

Laughing softly at his own foolishness, Mhok turned from the sight of the young man, ready to go find his sister, but something else stopped him again. Another person was standing right in front of him, but unlike the young man, they were looking right at him. It was another sprite – Porjai. Mhok had known her for a millenia, and normally he loved to see her. Except they rarely sought each other out while working.

“Porjai?” Mhok asked, confused. He glanced around. The walking path was clear of humans, since most of them had already headed for home. It would be dark soon. Humans didn’t like the dark. “What are you doing here?”

“P’Mhok,” she greeted, voice tight and squeaky.

She never called him P’Mhok. They had long since stopped using polite titles with each other. The title could only mean one thing – that whatever she had come to tell him was serious or hard to say.

Mhok pressed his lips together, glanced around again, and then faced his friend. “Porjai, why are you here? Is Rung with you?”

She was gorgeous in her pale sabai and sinh, her hair pulled back except for the swoop of bangs she let fall loose. Normally she stood tall and graceful and strong, but now she stood in front of him, shoulders hunched, face fighting against tears. She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak, couldn’t find the words, and covered her mouth with a pained sob.

“Porjai!” Mhok snatched up her wrist, not keeping his voice down. “Where is my sister?”

“I’m sorry,” Porjai said, weeping now. “She was– She’s gone.”

Gone? Gone like what? Like how humans are ‘gone’? Gone like dead? But that didn’t make any sense!

“What do you mean? How can she be gone? She’s a sprite. We don’t just– What do you mean? Where is she?” Mhok closed his eyes against the news, tapped into the spirit world and tried to sense his sister’s spirit.

He could always find her when he needed to. He could be at her side in an instant if he could just find her energy. They were connected like humans were, their soul bond clear and strong. So– So why couldn’t he sense her anywhere? His stomach dropped and it felt like someone was crushing his heart.

“Porjai–” His voice broke. His heart broke.

A sprite dying was not unheard of. If they weren’t careful, they could be killed by humans, and if they failed in their duties, they could face punishment from their god. Mhok had noticed several sprites disappear over the countless years of his life, but not his friends. Not his sister.

“No.” He dropped to his knees, his whole soul aching. “How?”

“… Theerapanyakul,” Porjai admitted reluctantly.

Ice filled in Mhok’s veins and he clenched his fists. Theerapanyakul. The human his sister claimed to be in love with. Rung must have done something stupid after all. She must have told her human that she was a sprite. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid! How had she misjudged so thoroughly? How could someone be loved by Rung and be so ungrateful? How could love end so terribly in an unnatural death?

Mhok wanted to find the human and kick his ass, to do the same to him that the man did to Rung. Except sprites of the god of love weren’t meant to use violence. Except killing a human was against the rules. Except killing Theerapanyakul wouldn’t bring Rung back.

“Mhok?” Porjai’s sad, thick voice called to him. “Mhok, snap out of it.”

His sister was dead. She wasn’t coming back. He felt a hole opening in his chest, and he couldn’t stop it from growing. He pressed a hand hard against his sternum, trying to fend off the pain and the helplessness. Porjai was kneeling in front of him, grabbing him and shaking him by the shoulders.

He held his hand out and a thread appeared in the air, connected from Mhok’s chest and ending in the empty air. It was the one that used to be connected to his sister. In the air above his hand, he watched it blacken and turn to dust. And it hurt.

“Porjai,” he whispered, feeling broken. She pulled him into her chest and held him tight as he buried his face against her. “What am I gonna do?”

— — —

Forty years to a human is a lifetime. Forty years is enough time for a war to begin and end, for a species to die off, for technology to advance faster and farther than ever before. Forty years was enough time to heal most wounds.

To a god’s sprite, forty years was nothing.

Mhok sat on the wall that outlined a college campus and watched all the young adults coming and going, all on their phones in one way or another, and all of them trailing a few visible strings of fate. He could easily reach out and find one in the air without even leaving his perch. Yet he kept his hands securely in his pockets.

That young man could meet his soulmate in the campus library if Mhok simply tugged on the string to give him the idea of going there.

That professor could meet her new best friend if Mhok expended enough energy to make her spill her morning coffee and caused her to need to stop by the cafe across the street.

He could sense the strings of fate, sense the outcomes of his meddling. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he turned away from the crowds and ignored the call of the strings. He always felt a little colder after ignoring such easy targets, but he’d felt cold for forty years. He hardly noticed anymore.

Behind him, he heard a gasp and then an irritated groan. Glancing back, he saw the professor sighing at the sight of her morning coffee dropped on the concrete in front of her. She checked her watch, glanced up at the school, back down at her watch, then turned and hurried away toward the cafe to grab a quick cup of coffee before work. She would meet the cafe manager, and over time they would become the closest of friends.

The young man also stopped walking, looked curious, and then decided to turn and head for the library to study instead of heading into the food court to hang out with his friends. He’d make eye contact with a young woman through the stacks, and the rest would be beautiful history.

A loud sigh from beside him drew Mhok’s attention away, and he found Porjai sitting on the wall beside him.

“I told you not to follow me,” Mhok grumbled.

“Yeah, but if I did that, all these souls you’re meant to be connecting would go on being disconnected, and then where would the world be?” Porjai swung her legs carelessly. “You’re lucky you’ve even got me to come around once in a while to tidy up your mess.”

“You know I don’t like leading people to love anymore,” Mhok reminded her. After all, what was the point of love if that love could stab you in the back? If that love could leave you feeling hollow and broken?

“And you know that if you don’t lead enough people, Trimurti will not be pleased with you. You don’t get endless chances from a god, not even if you’re that god’s servant.” Porjai shoved gently at his shoulder. “Come on. I’ve lost enough friends in the last few decades. Don’t make me add you to the list just because you want to be stubborn.”

“I’m not stubborn.” Mhok turned to sit cross legged on the wall, only possible because he wasn’t human. “Listen to what you just said. We’ve lost four more of our numbers in the last four decades. And why? Because humans are greedy and selfish, and when they notice they’re being toyed with – even when it's for their own happiness – they lash out and kill love.”

Porjai sighed again and stood up on the wall. “You keep saying that, but I know you don’t believe it. Not deep down. Before Rung – … I never knew a love sprite who loved love more than you.”

“Well that was before,” he grumbled.

“No. One day, that ice in your soul will finally melt, and you’ll remember how warm you used to be.” Porjai crossed her arms. “I just need that to happen before the Trimurti turn you into a fish or a statue or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Mhok turned away from her. “Luckily, I’ve got you connecting souls for me so I go unnoticed. We’re golden.”

His friend hopped off the wall, landing effortlessly on the ground below him. Then she turned and glared up at him. “Don’t be an idiot, Mhok. You’re too old to act this naive. I miss her too, but we can’t give up on the world like that. Rung wouldn’t want us to, and you know it. Now pull your head out of your ass and get to work.” She frowned and then tried to look less annoyed as she softly added, “Tomorrow’s an anniversary. Maybe it can mark your new beginning too.”

Then she turned and walked away, fizzling into the air before he could argue the idea.

Forty years since the death of his sister. Mhok slipped off the wall and landed nearly soundless on the concrete sidewalk below. A nearby student glanced over at the soft sound, but didn’t even hesitate in their gait as they walked on by. Mhok didn’t see any reason why the forty year anniversary had to be any different than the years before. He was still invisible. His sister was still dead. He was still cold. He couldn’t just flip a switch and change these things.

“Trimurti, bless me,” he said, but it sounded more like a swear. “Guess I’ll head back to Bangkok tomorrow. For all the good that’ll do.” Then he started walking, not caring where he ended up.

— — —

Bangkok could change names, but it couldn’t change its soul. It was still a busy city, where people came to visit and experience Thailand. It was a hub. And with all the technological advances and the ever growing population, it was sometimes so crowded and so photogenic that it made staying out of people’s way and unnoticed very difficult.

Mhok had to concentrate to be intangible – it wasn’t his natural state of being – and if he was just walking around, he didn’t want to expend that kind of energy. So he stayed mostly on top of things – buses, fences, the occasional overhang – to stay out of people’s way. When it was less busy, though, he loved to just walk around and feel the ground beneath his feet. Or shoes. Depending on the day.

It was in Bangkok that his sister met her demise. Stabbed by the man she loved and who she thought loved her too. He’d caught her off guard, so she didn’t have time to run. He’d taken advantage of her love.

Mhok came to a stop on his journey just outside of a small temple’s columbarium. Rung was not interred there, of course. Upon death, her spirit faded and became part of the Earth. But this temple was where Mhok and Porjai had used some of their power to make a plaque for her. There was no urn behind her nameplate, but it gave them somewhere to mourn her, to visit her. And the temple was close enough to where she’d met her tragic end. So far, no monk or anyone else had noticed the nameplate that none of them had installed, and Mhok hoped they never would.

Most people who visited their loved ones brought offerings and said prayers or at least spoke to their family. Mhok did none of those things. He knelt before his sister’s plaque and just stared at her name - Rung Pankhamdi. Porjai had chosen the last name. It was a play on a name meaning “petals” or “delicate flower”. She said it fit Rung. She said it fit Mhok too.

He took a seat in front of the empty grave for a while, feeling empty and cold. After an hour, he leaned forward to clean away the grime the last year had brought to the letters. An hour after that felt like no time at all, but he was ready to leave the temple, and the memory of his sister, behind him for another year.

As he stood, someone bumped harshly into him from behind, and he complained on reflex before remembering he was supposed to be quiet around people.

“Excuse me,” the other person said, giving him a wai, and then stumbled on. It was a young man with distant eyes, and he reached out for the wall to steady himself as he moved through the temple. Was he drunk? He didn’t smell of alcohol.

Mhok put his hand on his upper arm, feeling where the other had run into him. It had been a long long time since any human had given a wai in his direction or spoken to him. Mhok blamed that for why he was a little curious about the situation. On light feet, he followed after the other man.

“Oi! Day!” someone shouted behind them. Mhok glanced back, but the young man merely stiffened and picked up his pace. Mhok closed his eyes and let his hand hover in the air. Effortlessly, he found the string that led from the young man to whomever was calling for him.

Ah. A brother. And what a tangled string they had. Mhok could spend the rest of the day untangling it, learning its secrets and possibly mending the bond a little, but he wasn’t quite that invested yet. He was just… a little curious.

The young man – was his name Day? – turned a corner and found himself in a small garden. He didn’t pause at the sight. He didn’t hesitate at all until he found himself accidentally boxed in by a small pagoda of trees and bushes. There were benches hidden inside this alcove of nature, meant to be a relaxing spot to rest during a visit to the temple. Day bumped his shin on one of the benches, then hopped to the side to sit down. From outside of the rest area, he was virtually invisible.

Mhok stepped into the entrance of the sitting area and watched the young man rub and nurse his newly bruised shin. It was vaguely cut and starting to slowly bleed. Nothing too bad, but he might want a bandage.

“It’s creepy to stand and stare at someone,” Day complained. “Sit down or go away.”

Mhok turned around, expecting to see another person nearby, but there was no one. Just Day and himself. Except Mhok should be almost impossible to notice. Day shouldn’t be able to look at him unless Mhok allowed himself to be seen. Only, Mhok realized that Day wasn’t looking at him at all. He was staring off in front of himself, not looking at Mhok, not looking at the leg he was carefully touching to discern the damage.

He was blind.

“Okay, if you keep being a creep, I’ll scream,” Day threatened. His fingers finally brushed his injury and he winced.

Mhok smirked. “No you won’t. You’re trying to stay hidden, aren’t you?”

Day frowned. “How do you know that?”

Shrugging, Mhok stepped into the alcove and stood in front of Day. “You bumped into me while running away. Remember?”

“Oh.” Day took a deep breath and hesitated. His eyes were unfocused, but his brow knit temporarily together in confusion. He took another slow breath, then shook his head minutely. “Okay. Whatever. I said I was sorry, didn’t I? Why did you follow me?”

“I thought you were drunk,” Mhok answered, partially telling the truth.

“Well, I’m not. You can go now.” Day waved him off, irritated but also nervous.

Talking. With another person. A person who wasn’t trying to convince him to forget his sister and move on and grow bonds of love. Mhok felt a tingle in his hands and couldn’t stop the small smile lifting his lips.

“Looks like you hurt yourself. Want a bandage?” he asked. With a flip of his hand, he easily produced one from thin air. Day didn’t even twitch, which was further proof he couldn’t see Mhok at all.

The younger man wrinkled his nose. “You’re a weirdo, you know that? And you smell like– like–”

Mhok crossed his arms, ready to be amused. “Like what?”

“Like old, burnt incense.” Day rubbed at his nose, as if that would rid him of the scent.

Mhok was no longer amused. He should have a pleasant aroma, if anything. He was a sprite of the god of love. Burnt incense? He frowned. Perhaps Porjai was right. He wasn’t doing his duty and it was affecting him. No. Mhok shook himself. This human was just bitter and defensive. There was no way Mhok smelled that strongly of something as unpleasant as something burning.

“Rude.” Sucking his teeth, Mhok leaned forward and set the bandage on Day’s uninjured thigh. “There. A bandage. Patch yourself up and get back to your family before you run into anything else.”

“What? You’re gonna leave a blind guy to put on his own bandage?” Day griped.

His attitude did not move Mhok to help. In fact, it made Mhok take a step back. That and the idea that maybe Day really could smell him, and that maybe Mhok really did smell like something burning. But no. No, he only backed away because he didn’t like Day’s attitude.

“You’re a big boy. You can figure it out yourself.” He was far enough back that he could see straight out the entryway and down the path they’d come. Another attractive young man was at the corner of the wall, looking around for someone. “Better hurry. I think your brother is about to find you.”

On the bench, Day ducked his head but then quickly grabbed the bandage to tear it open. It took him a moment, but he found the spot to peel it, and then he exposed one side of the adhesive. Haltingly, he felt his leg for the wound again, and winced again when he found it. Then he brought the bandage slowly toward the wound, clearly unsure if he was going to miss entirely despite his efforts.

His brother was getting closer, though he was mostly scanning the exposed areas of the garden and temple.

Day bumped the bandage against his leg, realized it was nowhere near its target, groaned and pulled it off. He was determined and trying, but he once again got the bandage stuck before it ever got close to the wound. He growled softly, frustrated, and Mhok couldn’t watch him struggle anymore.

Carefully, Mhok knelt in front of Day and stopped his hand with the bandage. At first, Day startled, but then he easily released his hold on the bandage as Mhok tugged it free. Mhok placed his hand on Day’s shin to let Day know what he was doing, and then he easily affixed the bandage over the scrape. When he was done, he looked up into Day’s face and thought he saw the other barely breathing. For a human, he was kind of cute. Kind of handsome, actually.

“Thanks,” Day said, voice quiet.

“You’re welcome.” Mhok replied, just as quiet. He stood up, watched Day swallow, and then took a step back into the far corner of the covering.

At that exact moment, the brother stepped into the entrance. “There you are!” he exclaimed. “Mom is losing her mind. Come on. You shouldn’t run off like that.”

“I’m not five,” Day said, his sour attitude returning in full force. “I don’t need a babysitter, and I should be allowed to visit a temple without someone holding my hand and watching my every move.”

The brother let out a long suffering sigh. “We just didn’t want you tripping down the stairs. Day, please. You know you need help, and that’s all we’re trying to do.”

The tension between the brothers was thick. Mhok opened his palm and summoned their string to his palm. The knots were frayed, like old shoelaces that had been tied and untied and picked at for years. If Mhok loosened even one of them, the situation might resolve peacefully… even if it didn’t fix their relationship. He looked between the two brothers, who were glaring and holding their bodies so rigid and tight.

Almost without thinking, Mhok ran two fingers over one of the knots. The fraying mended and the knot loosened. Color pulsed over the dull string, like blood returning to a vein. It was not a perfect fix, but then Mhok wasn’t looking for perfection. He just wanted to diffuse this one situation.

Both Day and the brother relaxed their shoulders, though Mhok doubted either of them really noticed. The brother sighed again, but this time it was tired sounding.

“Please just come back with me so we can try to end today on a happy note. Okay?” he asked, voice much gentler than before..

On the bench, Day ran his fingers over the edges of the bandage on his shin. After a long moment, he finally nodded and stood from the bench. His brother was over in an instant, trying to help guide Day from the area. As they stepped out into the light, Day paused and looked vaguely over his shoulder.

“Thank you, khun,” he said, and Mhok startled a little.

“Who are you talking to?” his brother asked, also glancing back into the sitting area. Unlike Day, he took no notice of Mhok in the corner.

“There was a man,” Day said, though now his brow knit in confusion again. He frowned. “Isn’t he still in there?”

His brother shook his head. “No. There’s no one else here.”

The brother let Day ponder for only a second more before ushering him away and back to their mother. In the shade of the trees, Mhok sat down on a bench and watched them leave. For the first time in forever, someone had talked to him. Sure the conversation had been mostly rude or sassy, but somehow it still felt monumental. More than that, Day had turned back to thank him again. He hadn’t forgotten Mhok existed as soon as their conversation was over.

Was it because he was blind and he had noticed Mhok by smell and not by sight? Most people’s minds were easily distracted by light and sound, and they quickly forgot if they saw something supernatural. They explained away whatever they saw or heard. But Day had not. Not yet, anyway. It had to be because of his eyes. He had noticed Mhok even when Mhok was trying to go unnoticed.

The sprite smiled. Well, then. That chance encounter had turned out to be the most interesting human interaction Mhok had experienced in over forty years. How was he meant to ignore that?

[yukiicantdraw]

took another nap and I still feel exhausted Besides that, I finally listened to the nagging voice in my head and decided to put that silly little man from a couple months back and put him with more silly little people :] ALRIGHT! Now time for a rambles

So far, the main idea is that in this world, being able to perceive ghost in some way isn't unheard of. It's not that everyone has the power to do so, but it had been recorded a couple of times

The two that we're dealing with here are no exception

Theo (The skeptic guy) and Enid (The medium) do ghost hunts/investigations and recording it for fun and for money

Enid

Enid is a calm medium... a bit too calm to the point that when both her life and Theo's are in danger, she doesn't react that much. meanwhile, Theo's scrambling both of them out of there scooby doo style. It's mainly because she's gotten a bit used to these type of things to the point that she forgets that she's responsible for Theo's life as well. She's also usually the one who deals with camera equipment and contacting the caretaker of each place they go :D Enid's power(s) as a medium doesn't necessarily allow her to hear or see ghost all that well, she only hears them occasionally and barely sees them. Despite this, she can still sense them. it can also become stronger if she concentrates hard enough

Theo

Theo is a insomniac who is in a limbo between "Believe it when you see it" to "It's either the wind or I'm just sleep deprived" when it comes to these type of things. Yes, he'd be terrified during the entirety of the ghost hunt. But in a safe distance, He would immediately start coming up with reasons as to why certain things happened.

"Maybe it was an animal in the wall" "it was too dark, probably pareidolia" "Maybe someone lives there and wanted us to leave" So on, so forth

Usually deals with editing and channel management

Reu/Reuben

in the spirit world, ghost need something from the human world to be attached to in order to not disappear over time

Reu just so happened to get interested in these two weirdos and got attached to Theo due to how oblivious he is to the ghosts around him

Kind of like a cat when a human doesn't dote on them immediately

Side note: I thought it would be funny if Reuben tried to tell Theo and Enid his name through the spirit box but it only came out as Reu, leaving him to go along with it

overall, Reu follows them around because he thought they were fun to watch (And he occasionally messes with them-)

as for how he died!

He doesn't remember how he died and has no idea why he's wearing gakuran uniform so he just assumes that the person who buried him went from japan to wherever the story takes place

for the duration of being dead, he was mainly just living off of his own will without any attachments... well not until he met Theo and Enid

[vaalthus]

The Final Steps (spoilers)

Ok, the idea of Xan looking towards Warlic as a protective buffer to keep things that are making him uncomfortable away from him is absolutely hilarious.

Ya see I still don't like the sound of that while we don't know what the intent of the other Magesters, beyond Ostromir and Vseslava, are at the moment, even with the knowledge that many of them will be dead in a short amount of time.

One thing I have noticed so far is that Zvezdana has shown consistent interest in us as a means of studying new applications and effects of magic that are not readily present in the Azaveyran continent. She mentions she doesn't have us all figured to the degree that she wishes but so far she has at least shown a good amount of insight of understanding where we stand in terms of morals and ethics, I'd say that goes for more characters in party than just the hero. What I'm getting at here it seems pretty clear for now at least that our relationship is little more than useful data collection to her.

Beyond that though I'm curious as to what these new approved pursuits the Shapeless intends to endeavor because I foresee problems arising if they found a new interests in Doom or recreating Alexander's...condition.

Hmm perhaps we should have conscripted some elves or werewolves for this fight or maybe Nikki at least.

Either way, this is some good lore on the elemental affinity a soul produces on its own or when the body is altered significantly. We already knew of course that the human body contains minute traces of all the prime elements within it, but, as anticipated, this quest just proved these elements do not exist equally within every human being on Lore, even those that have not been pushed so far into one elemental direction like Xan or Sepulchure.

Feel like the easiest way to have tested this is by having another dragonlord and their dragon in attendance since we know the others are capable of swapping the elements of their dragons as needed. Though I wouldn't be too surprised if being one of the twin dragons was all it took for Draco to be protected from the overflow of mana.

Oh what gave it away Zvezdana, my non-canonical class armor?

Not appreciating the shade thrown towards Aegis. He's a good pure and wholesome spirit, woman!

It's actually kind of funny that Aegis is protecting our soul from straining apart given that's what his role will theoretically become when we die and he'll have to protect us until we become fully fledged elemental spirits...ya know unless ya eat him later...

I wonder if this adjustment will have any permanent effect on Alteon considering he's being pushed further towards the energy element or if this will be a temporary change, like the soul self-regulating afterwards.

At first I was a little bit surprised that she no longer labeled all of us as villians that just couldn't or didn't want to see the good she was trying to do especially after she declared Warlic as little more than a manipulator after their confrontation.

Yet that surprise dies away when you realize she doesn't really have a choice but to recognize that our intent was never really all that misguided to begin with. Think about it, her truest closest confidant, the time mirror, showed her that Akanthus, her right-hand man, had betrayed her trust and when she confronted him on this, he merely verified that fact. When confronted with this information what other choice does she really have but to accept that she was being in denial of our motivations in not trusting her actions or at least the man she was allowing to command a good portion of the Rose.

Of course, it doesn't matter if she finally sees the truth about us as she's sunken too much into this plan to turn back now even though she knows her only ally now is a man that could potentially wreak havoc upon all of Lore if, and let's be honest it's more of a when, she fails to supplant the Mana Core's will.

For all intents and purposes, Jaania story still remains a tragedy and while I don't want her dead, the potential for so many ends for her are not looking good. Whether it be in failing to control the core, further betrayal from Akanthus, or us, or even plausibly one of the others in the party, looking at you Zvezdana.

[wall-legion]

The Very True and Not Made Up History of Oskar Garoldsen

"-too bland? Should I go with legacy instead?" The author he had hired rolled her eyes. "Mister Garoldsen-" "Oskar, darling." "Oskar. We should worry about the life story first and then the title." "Doesn't every good story start with a solid hook?" He grinned at the human woman, and since she gave no resistance other than a sigh he began in earnest. "I was born at Twinspur Haven. My mother was a baker there with my grandmother, but she had no idea who my father was. She had a habit of letting handsome adventurers sneak into the house after Grandmother fell asleep and letting them 'warm up by the fire' as she would tell Grandmother. She couldn't possibly remember which of them could possibly have been the father, so she just gave me the name of the most handsome one: Garoldsen." "Have you ever met him? Garold?" Oskar bellowed out a laugh before he adjusted how he was lounging on his couch. "Darling, that's like asking you to find a Jane or a Peter in Divinity's Reach. If his legend was worth telling, it's never reached my ears." "I see." She turned her head as Oskar uncrossed his legs, making no effort to correct his robe falling open slightly. "And your childhood?" "Markedly uninteresting. My mother had me too young so Grandmother did most of the mothering until she died. Mother still didn't know what to do with me, so she reached out to her brother who had moved to Hoelbrak to arrange for me to live with him and learn a trade." Oskar sniffed. "It also conveniently worked out that I would be out of the way for her to get married and start a family without any past baggage." He watched for a reaction from her, but seeing none he went on. "I was 11 or 12 when I went to live with Uncle Skarde. He was more Grandmother's get: stern, hardworking, dull. He bought and sold ore from miners to the smiths, and wanted to teach me the trade." She looked up from her notes, realizing that he'd paused. He was looking out the window with his chin resting on one fist. From what she knew of the man, she would hesitate to call his expression pensive, but it was passing close to it. "And?" Oskar chuckled, looking at a ring on the hand his chin had just sat on. "I was certainly grateful for the opportunity to live in Hoelbrak, but that was about it. I was a lad with awakening appetites, and the last thing my mind was on was inventories and market values. He did his best for a while, but it was to come to an end." "How do you mean?" "I had been dallying with a variety of partners since I turned 14. Skarde had an idea that I was up to something but could never catch me at it." He smiled suddenly, but it looked less than reassuring. "One night when I was 17, I was caught with the wrong person and had to get out of the city quickly. I knew of the asura gate, and I took it. Found myself here naked as the day I was born." "Who was the wrong person?" "Someone I'm not willing to commit to print, love," he said, too quickly, and she knew he meant it as he continued. "I tested my luck here for the next two days, getting what I needed where I could, before I ran into my patron." Oskar smiled again, but this time it was fonder. "He and his dear wife Elisabeth had an understanding that allowed Charles to hire me at his mercantile shop as an assistant. It also permitted me to help Charles with other needs that he had, ones that Elisabeth could not. Although sometimes she did join in on the fun to keep things fresh in their marriage." He chuckled. "You're blushing, pet. Do most humans not keep with threesomes?" "I wouldn't know," she finally stammered. "Let's get back to you, please." He shrugged. "Charles passed in 1326, spirits keep him. Elisabeth gave me a final payment that was bequeathed from him, and that's how I financed the Bayside Boutique." "And your association to the Shark-" "No." He reached over, gently pulling down the journal she was writing in. "I don't know what you've heard or seen, but I have no association with her. Definitely nothing that goes in this book. Do you understand?" "Yes sir," she answered very quietly.

[spw-art]

If you have OCs... could you perhaps make a masterpost-link thing with them that I could save up to check them out/save to go back to if I forget anything on them? (Bonus points if u have potp/dragon ocs smiles)

ALSO your art slaps hell yeah 💪

Looks at you with big wet eyes. My tag #my oc should have all of em.

POTP is a universe in which I feel like it’s both difficult and impractical to make an oc for unless they exist before or after the story.

I fucking love dragons I haven’t drawn any dragons in so long. Besides Pokémon dragons.

And now I’ll see if I can remember all the tags of all my ocs. Or at least the main ones.

All of the links will just lead to their tag.

Harte Sekioka - Pokemon breeder and ex-magma admin from an amino roleplay that took place in 2017. Currently he’s used in a roleplay with friends because I didn’t want to make a new character for it. Just went ahead and decided he’s 20 years older now. Self-proclaimed sexmaster. Annoying. Single father of two. Should not be a father.

Claudia - A Ditto masquerading as a human from Harte’s universe. She’s helped him out with speeding up the process of selective Pokémon breeding. She’s also extremely important to Harte’s universe’s Team Magma.

Sif Saph - My BG3 character, I haven’t been able to play BG3 in forever. Not much info on him besides he’s the cousin of my first ever D&D character, Sif Krymsul. And he has blue dragon ancestry on his father’s side. Really really really hoping to draw him more I miss him so much.

Divo Success - Pokémon oc. He’s the platonic idea of a cowboy the same way The Stanley Parable’s Narrator is the platonic ideal of divorce. He hasn’t even seen a cow in his life. But he does have a gigantic horse that everyone is afraid of for her Stamina Iron Defense Body Press swagger. He has weird fucking abilities that allow him to be a western movie character. Every time he rides away on his horse it’s into the sunset. No matter what time of day it is. He can always appear in a cloud of dust or smoke. He operates entirely on rule of cool.

Daylight Under Outsmouth - A Call Of Cthulhu campaign that unfortunately never came to fruition. It’s about a universe being consumed by an oppressive darkness with the center of its terror being Earth. Things keep getting darker. Stars disappear from the sky. Aliens and extradimensional creatures find their way to earth as refugees. I reaaally want to make a comic or something with the story.

Aoife and Padraig - Characters made for my friend’s series called Analog Files. They’re the same person from different worlds. They’re married. They’re fucking weird. Aoife is dying of Cool Guy Cancer that’s turning her into a bug and then into a pile of flesh. She wants to be studied while she dies. Padraig loves studying her. They’re great.

Legally Distinct - A glam metal band made up of monsters from Universal Monster movies. I had made them for Art Fight, they’re quite silly, they have so much sex and do so much drugs. And rock n roll of course.

Nigellians - A type of creature made of music, glamor, passion, and magic. They’re born of human creation. Think of Eddie the Head if he was less powerful and less aggressive and more of a little fairy spirit.

Herb - An utau made by my friend NyxQuentiam who is voiced by me. I need to record a new voice bank so badly. He’s an artificial angel who harvests energy from other angels by killing and blending them. He then goes to the angel black market to turn mortals into angels: a high he should not be doing. But whatever, he’s having a good time.

Ward - Cringefail rich boy accidental racist fire genasi who sucks. Used him in a D&D campaign until it fizzled out due to the DM being weird. I don’t think I have much stuff with him here (I think it’s just one post) but he’s my beloved little shitstain. His sword is incredibly blunt. It does bludgeoning damage. He’s whining the entire time he’s adventuring.

Those are the main guys. Hope that helps! :)

Always feel free to ask more questions! Yippee yahoo yippeeeee

[commanders-company]

BIO - RUNA WYRMSDOTTIR

Norn | Warrior/Revenant | Disciple of Bear

Runa was orphaned in her early teens in a Svanir raid on one of the many settlements in the Shiverpeaks. Rather than remain amongst her people, she fled to the south, eventually finding her way into a small street gang in Lion’s Arch.

Years passed, and she thought she had made a decent home for herself - as much as one can amongst thieves and looters. However, fate came in an unlikely form: late one night, they attempted to mug an old charr visiting the port, only for the retired warrior to soundly wipe the floor with them. But rather than turn them into the Lionguard - or simply kill them - the charr instead made them an offer: meet him in the arena and “learn to fight for something more than a handful of copper for tomorrow’s meal.”

Runa’s compatriots never seriously considered the offer, but something inside her stirred - perhaps the last bit of Norn pride she had left from her youth in the mountains. She joined the charr, a retired Blood legion soldier named Bretak Ironfist, and through months and years he taught her everything he knew, turning her into a formidable warrior who eventually caught the eye of the Vigil. Years later, Runa would rise to be the Commander of the newly formed Pact under Trahearne. When she asked Bretak to join as her second, he refused, saying it was her legend to unfold, and his time had come and gone long ago.

Runa successfully led the Pact against Zhaitan, helped coordinate the retaking of Lion’s Arch from Scarlet Briar, quickly mobilized their forces to prepare an assault on Mordremoth deep in the jungle…to disastrous results that none could have predicted. For weeks after the fleet fell, she found herself plagued by the same dream: the stranded forces surrounded by deadly vines, until a small, bright flower - shielded by the body of a fallen bear - grew into a mighty tree, breaking through the canopy to allow light to burn away the Mordrem growth. A norn shaman with the fleet said he was convinced this was a prophecy from the Spirits of the Wild - the first time she had ever felt any connection to them since childhood - and when she met Feyn for the first time in a makeshift camp deep in the jungle, she instantly knew this sylvari was the “flower” destined to save them all.

Runa took Feyn, Bato and Gheli aside privately and told them the secrets they had learned while investigating Scarlet’s motivations - specifically Glint’s egg they had lost to Caithe. She asked them to work with her new companions (Marjorie, Taimi and the gang) to track down the egg and ensure it stayed safe, leading to it being safely secreted away in Tarir. Later on, she and Feyn took on a scouting mission deep into the tangled depths of root and cave, where they were ambushed and Runa was severely injured. Feyn did her best to help, but Runa refused, knowing this was her prophesied fate. She entrusted Feyn with her Pact sigil, telling her of the vision and trusting the fate of the Pact - of all of Tyria - to her. Firing a flare to distract the approaching Mordrem, she commanded Feyn to run and took her final stand.

The rest, as they say, is history: Feyn took up the mantle of Pact Commander and slew Mordremoth, nurtured the dragon egg and raised the hatchling which would become Aurene, and even faced down the humans’ god of war himself. All the while the story of the First Commander was told and retold, a legend among legends to be passed down in memory of a hero.

And then, two years after she died, Runa awoke in the desert.

As Kralkatorrik tore through the Mists in the wake of Balthazar’s demise, Runa’s soul was wrenched from its rest, finding new life in the wastes of Elona. Though she had no memory of who she was beyond her name, she was quickly taken in by locals who nursed her to health - and gave her cause to fight with her new mist-fueled powers as a Revenant.

When word spread of the Pact’s fight to take down the crystal dragon, Runa’s memories began to resurface, prompting her to begin the long journey back to Tyria. When she returned to the Shiverpeaks, she met with the shamans who helped her understand who she once was - but that person felt foreign to her. Left without a clear path, she resorted to wandering the north, making a solitary living in the wild far away from other settlements.

Her path crossed with Feyn once again as the sylvari and her company ventured north in pursuit of Bangar, where she helped them slay the Boneskinner. Reuniting returned more of Runa’s old memories, and prompted her to aid in the fight against Jormag, Primordus, and the Frost Legion.

But as that crisis resolved, she once again felt lost. The old Runa was no longer needed; Feyn’s legend had long since surpassed her own, and she no longer felt any true connection to the Pact regardless. But her solitude would be cut short by an unexpected invitation: the secretive Astral Ward had need of her strength and what knowledge of the Mists she had left.

Here Runa at last found a permanent home, questing from one end of the world to the other, protecting the innocent as a simple, faceless warrior, here one day and gone the next. Though the threat of the Kryptis brings her a bit too close to the world-saving limelight than she’d like, she is glad to have a true purpose once again.

[wickedsrest-rp]

Name: Jeremiah "Jerry" Melano Species: Bugbear Occupation: Park Ranger Age: 43 Years Old Played By: Paul Face Claim: David Harbour

"You don’t need to understand Mother Nature to appreciate her, but if you don’t show her respect.. Well, she’s got teeth and claws a’plenty."

TW: Physical & emotional abuse, body shaming, disordered eating, depression

Originally thought to only be a fictitious boogeyman out of English folklore, the first live specimens of a bugbear were observed in the late 19th century, living amongst the black bear population of the Catskill Mountains.  Often said to resemble a monstrous bear, they are known to lurk in woods on the outskirts of human settlements, and are often used by parents to frighten young children into behaving.

In modern English, a ‘bugbear’ is a pet peeve or annoyance, whereas the archaic etymology translates roughly as ‘frightening’ or ‘goblin bear’.” - Extract from ‘Atlas Mythica: Journeys Through America’s Wyrderness’ by Ambrose Fortuna, pub. 1937.

Bugbears have always existed. As long as there has been something to fear in the wild and untamed places of the World, the bugbear has manifested in one way or another. Needing to consume the fear of others has led to an almost parasitic relationship with humans and is vital to bugbear survival, but that has never been the only way in which fear was intrinsic to the bugbear way of life.

It wasn’t easy growing up as a bugbear looking the way that Jerry did. His name wasn’t even Jerry back then, but those who know him now could still have recognised the same person; quiet, conscientious and fiercely protective of those he loved. Unfortunately, the bugbear community looks to different qualities when judging an individual’s worth and it was decided early that Jerry was not worth a great deal.

Bugbears are scary, and the hierarchy within their society is built on that one simple fact. Those who can instil fear and terrify their prey are valued by the community as a whole, while those who cannot are viewed simply as a burden. 

No one had ever considered Jerry to be scary. Even as a cub, his soft doughy body and fluffy white fur marked him out as prey, rather than predator. Other cubs took great pleasure in tormenting Jerry, while the adults would mutter darkly amongst themselves. The humans would see him as a ‘Spirit Bear’, they whispered, a symbol of Peace, Harmony & Remembrance, but never something to be feared. They all knew that exile would be the most common fate for a bugbear like Jerry, some even considered it to be a kinder fate than allowing a cub to grow up and become such a burden on their society. 

But Jerry’s father was a terrifying figure of power & influence within their community and he would never have another male child, since his mate had died during childbirth and he’d refused to take another.  In this environment, Jerry grew up ostracised by the adults around him, tortured by his peers and beaten by the father that blamed him for his mother’s death. He tried to cover his pale fur with stinking mud and foliage, but the other juvenile cubs took to calling him ‘Skunk Ape’ and threw stones. 

Eventually, Jerry came to accept all the things that were said about him, believing that he was as worthless as everyone said and that it would’ve been better if he’d died alongside his mother on the day of his birth.

One bitter winter’s night, bruised and bloodied from another beating, Jerry walked deep into the woods, alone but determined. Out in the wilds, he would find somewhere to lie down among deep drifts of snow and, after shifting out of bear form, would sleep until the cold spirits of the storm claimed him…

But fate had a different destiny in mind for the young bugbear. 

A Park Ranger from the Wicked’s Rest State Park, out looking for missing hikers in the winter storm, was drawn by a raven’s call and stumbled across the naked, mud covered shape of a child, shivering in a snow-filled hollow. Looking little more than eight years old, the boy would surely have died if the Ranger hadn’t found him. Radioing for another person to take over the search, the Park Ranger gathered the child into his arms, bundled up in his thick padded jacket, and carried Jerry out of the woods.

It was weeks before Jerry regained consciousness and months before he spoke, but the Rangers of Wicked’s Rest took it in turns to care for him. Ironically, in those early days in the hospital it was their fear that he might die that actually kept Jerry alive. As he recovered, Jerry found that he could feed on those same fears when manifested by visitors to sick relatives in the hospital. Over time, Jerry grew stronger until he was eventually discharged into the care of Luis Melano, the Ranger who had found him in the woods that night.

Luis and his wife, Amelia, were good people, but without children of their own, and Jerry brought a lightness to their home which they had been sorely missing. They never questioned the boy about the scars on his body and put their efforts into giving Jerry all the love and support which he had clearly been without for too long. He spoke his first words to them on April 30th, the eve of St. Jeremiah’s Day, and thus was the child named. Jerry was officially adopted as their son not long after.

Luis wasn’t surprised when his son shifted into bear-form for the first time, since he’d spent long enough in Wicked’s Rest to know the truth about the place and had had suspicions about Jerry’s heritage for some time. Luis was of Tsimshian heritage and he knew the legends of his people about Moksgm’ol, the Spirit Bear of the British Columbian rainforest. Conscious that his son should know where he came from, Luis started taking his son out into the woods and forests with him, showing him the beauty of the place, as well as introducing him to other bugbears.

Jerry’s biological father was incensed when he eventually found out. The old bugbear chieftain, deeply scarred from many failed attempts to usurp his authority, loudly denounced his own blood, refusing to recognise the boy and proclaimed his son to be dead. What Luis had hoped would be a reunion only served to increase the animosity between bugbears and humans - especially within Jerry’s own blood clan. 

Jerry Melano followed in his adopted father’s footsteps, becoming a Park Ranger himself. He excelled at telling scary stories around campfires, and learned what it meant to be a bugbear from those others that lived both in the State Park and in the wider town of Wicked’s Rest. He loved these woods and when his father retired, Jerry took up his position as a Senior Ranger, hoping to one day build a bridge between the humans and bugbears, but until then he’d be guiding visitors through the wilds, protecting the forest and keeping its secrets safe.

Character Facts:

Personality: Apathetic, conscientious, introverted, disagreeable, loyal, protective, insecure, anxious, eloquent, passionate

The appearance of Jerry’s bear-form has a strong resemblance to a white Kermode bear, also known as a spirit bear.

When encountered, Jerry will generally be either smoking or eating, sometimes both.

Jerry’s favourite cereal is Lucky Charms.

His sense of smell is incredibly acute, even for a bugbear.

[ladystoneboobs]

um, it's more that luke and leia being twins was a rather last minute plot change in rotj, saying he "wrote the original trilogy" implies they were planned out as a unit in some way. the luke/leia kisses weren't meant to be accidentally incestuous. lucas was not originally planning to have them be related at all, and even in esb when darth vader became luke's father leia was not meant to be a skywalker too. at the time of making rotj the original thought behind leia's words about their mother was that the as-yet-unnamed-mother survived their birth and chose to seperate the twins herself for some reason, sending luke away while staying with leia in disguise on alderaan until she died a few years later. (also at this time owen was actually obi-wan's brother, not anakin's stepbrother.) but it was never the case that luke and leia were adopted at the same time when both were older than babies. that's why luke says he never knew his mother and has to ask leia what she knows of her.

luke was always meant to have spent his whole childhood on tattooine and that doesn't explain why his name wasn't changed to lars, which surely would have helped his own safety as the skywalker name is his most obvious link to anakin. i know sw portrays planets as not nearly big enough but it's a bit much to assume just being a blond human boy would get you linked to another blond male human in a different part of tattooine who left the planet almost 20 years before you were born. luke seems to have had a rather small social circle on tatooine and there's no hint that anyone he knew there besides owen, beru, and obi-wan had ever met anakin. it's also going directly against the movies to think owen ever intended luke to leave them for good as a skywalker. he certainly didn't want him to go anywhere with obi-wan as his jedi apprentice (anh obi-wan says that anakin wanted luke to have his old lightsaber but that owen wouldn't allow it bc he was afraid luke would go off with obi-wan on some fool crusade, which given later reveals/retconning about anakin and how that lightsaber changed hands, is just a bald-faced lie slandering owen as a needless stick-in-the-mud.) and if they were worried about him being caught out as anakin's son and having to go into hiding, again i say they could have just not openly raised him with the skywalker name to begin with. owen was doing all he could to keep luke on that farm for as long as he could, and their argument about leaving was just about luke following biggs to the academy, not even about joining the rebellion (tho that was surely in luke's mind as he knew it was biggs's real plan). luke not being a farmer was about him not wanting to be a farmer, about his spirit of adventure wanting more, not him always being meant to leave with obi-wan or needing to go into hiding at any time while using his father's name openly on his father's home planet. at the time that the larses took him to raise there's no reason they had to know he could never be made a farmer and would have to leave them for good someday, that happened due to his own choice and his own wishes. you mention how luke was affected by owen's and beru's deaths without acknowledging the plot significance of their deaths: that was luke's cue to leave with obi-wan bc he wasn't leaving with owen still alive and certainly wasn't raised with the expectation of being cut loose into obi-wan's waiting tutelage.

if we agree that both uncles/aunts and moms/dads can love kids, then why this insistence that that there's something wrong in not acknowledging owen and beru as anything other than luke's uncle and aunt? the version you've concocted where they always meant to be a temporary set-up for luke sounds more like foster care than a permanent adoption. there are different kinds of families and it's not wrong to say they don't always include someone called mom and dad or thought of as mom and dad. luke only ever considered one man his father, bc despite owen wanting luke to follow him into farming, he still raised luke as a skywalker, not a lars, as anakin's son and shmi's grandson. a guy who intentionally raised luke to call him uncle owen rather than dad would not be arguing that he was luke's real father or be insulted by being only known as uncle owen, so fandom really doesn't need to argue that on his behalf. he can consider luke his own without considering himself luke's dad, that just means luke's his nephew, not his son. this insistence that the larses were luke's mom and dad always feels like luke is seen as disrespectful for never calling them such, bc otherwise it means just ignored how luke thinks of them as canon luke clearly does not consider them his mom and dad. despite his loving relationship with beru, he still considered himself motherless, never having known a mother bc he could not remember padme. (i think it significant that "real mother" were his words, not leia's. she would probably consider bail and breha organa her real mom and dad and padme her birth mother, which means she could still have an interest in padme without feeling like that was her only mother whether she remembered her or not.) but who is the source of this distinction of uncle/aunt who raised him vs. mom/dad parental equivalents, luke himself or owen/beru? why can we not acknowledge and accept the difference between a guy who always wanted to adopt an unrelated baby girl and therefore offered to do so of his own volition wrt his recently deceased friend's baby, and a guy who was assigned guardianship by frickin' yoda and then had a baby boy delivered on short notice who was apparently the son of a stepbrother he met all of once a few years ago? esp given that even in the iteration where owen and obi-wan knew each other before and were even the ones actually related, they still never had a good relationship with owen warning luke to stay away from that "crazy wizard" and obi-wan lying his ass off about owen and anakin.

why is it people are all agreed that luke and leia would* have very different feelings about darth vader as a father but cannot grasp that their experiences with the people who raised them were also very different?

leia was actually adopted by a father who chose her, who gave her his name, and raised her as fully one of them, to think of himself and his wife as her parents. none of that was at all true for luke. he was dropped on owen and beru after they met his parents all of once a few years before. (which does not a brotherly relationship make! stepbrothers or not! padme was the one with an actual surviving family on naboo who actually knew and loved her. even bail knew her better than owen knew anakin.) owen lied about how anakin lived and died but still raised luke with an idea of his real father, using the skywalker name and saying aunt and uncle instead of mom and dad. 

do y’all not realize that an intra-family adoption doesn’t mean surnames can’t be changed or kids can’t say mom/dad instead of grandma/grandpa or aunt/uncle or whatever? why wouldn’t a kid instinctively call the people raising them from infancy mama and dada? this was all a choice, that’s why. (and considering the danger of the skywalker name, that part was a meaningful and deliberate choice.) and i’m not even blaming owen for it. adoptions cannot be forced on people who did not choose them. not everyone is capable of loving someone else’s child exactly the same as if they were related by blood and that’s not some irredeemable flaw. not everyone even wants to be parents, naturally or not! we don’t know if owen and beru ever wanted to be parents before obi-wan showed up on their doorstep. and even with the lying everyone did about anakin, it speaks well that luke was still raised with some knowledge of his birth parents and grew up loving and respecting the (false) idea of anakin. 

i’m sure owen and beru cared for luke as he did for them but they did not think of each other as simply father/mother and son, nuclear family-style. and to assert otherwise is to deliberately ignore the writing in the movies with every line of “uncle owen” “aunt beru” “his father/your father/my father” and “i have no memory of my mother. i never knew her.” it’s not an insult to owen/beru not to equate them with bail/breha who chose adoption and whom we know had always talked of adopting a baby girl. if anything, i’d say it’s an insult to ignore the complexity and true context there to simplify everyone into the same categories. and maybe, just maybe, we should consider that luke’s connection to anakin/vader and longing for knowledge of his “real” mother has to do with how he was raised differently than leia, and not because the twins are instrincially so different with luke just being a bigger softie.

*i say would because it’s not like rotj gives any time for leia’s reaction to learing she was fathered by anakin/vader (and no, eu matierials which can be de-canonized at any time do not make up any lack in the script). but it’s not as if leia expresses any disapproval toward luke’s feelings or hopes either, even as she worries about his plan. maybe bc she understands how and why she and luke are coming from different places better than most in the fandom do.