#verse: i'll come back

[spotaus]

Idea-dumping under the cut ig as a distraction!

(Actually this got like... long, so here's some bonus design visuals!)

So, this is mostly me thinking out-loud about those alt/personal versions of Nightmare's gang.

First establishment: in this version, Nightmare follows the *was* evil but does so poorly with several versions of the group that he decides he's probably the problem and goes searching for answers before finally settling on a few and keeping them alive. (Yes, Nightmare keeps the original 3 sets dust. Most of it was scattered, but the bits he kept all went into an hourglass. He keeps it on a shelf high in his office so no one can turn it over again.)

In this same vein, Dream and Nightmare are battling because Dream believes Nightmare is no longer his younger self and an entirely separate entity. (Is this true? Probably this time? We'll see.) So, Dream has Ink usually on-hand, and has lost a few comrades over the years, Blue being the only one who'd survived to this point. (I think he might've managed to recruit a Color at some point, Night killed both the Color and Killer. Maybe he also recruited a horror of his own, who was executed by the 2nd Dust. Point is, Blue has been around to see these monsters be cycled out and behave different and all die expendable on Night's side, and has lost friends on Dream's side.) Dream nowadays tries to stick to only himself, Ink, and Blue.

So, establishing that, there's the trouble of Nightmare and his mortals.

Nightmare lives in an older Victorian mansion rather than a castle, his domain is an abandoned au set in that time period, where him and his crew have free-reign. (Basically think the streets of London but entirely unoccupied and almost constantly night-time or rainy/dreary/foggy.)

Initially, he used this landscape to torment those he brought to his domain, whether that be chasing a new killer/horror/dust until they were exhausted or bringing au inhabitants back for his men to hunt down and torment for him. It was useful, a lot of left-over objects and items from inhabitants long since dead, and a lot of interesting hiding places. The edges of the au are just a blackness. Eventually there is an invisible wall, and if you reach that, You're easy pickings for Nightmare. he knows.

I think that the way Nightmare finally decides on his henchmen needing better treatment is when the 3rd Horror, the very last surviving one, *let* Dream get a lethal hit in on him. There was no chance for Dream or Nightmare to act, and they'd both retreated in the aftermath. Normally this wouldn't have bothered Nightmare, but that Horror had been his most obedient and resourceful one yet, and he'd actually grown to like his presence. So. The silence in the castle while he recovered from injuries and prepared for the next batch? It was particularly striking for him. It felt *icky* to not have another person there, and it felt icky to have lost that Horror in the way that he had. Not even an honorable death. He decided he needed to figure out how to keep a monster similar, if not *better than* how he'd kept horror.

After about a month of debating, he finally settled on visiting a Ccino. And no, this isn't just because Ccino's been growing on me lately. He knew one of the Killer's he had, the 2nd, enjoyed sneaking off to the fluffytale aus and he figured there must have been a reason. So. Nightmare takes advantage of his shape-shifting and what little sense he has, and finds himself in an inaccurate replication of a passive Nightmare. He goes to a Ccino, though it might as well be one involved in the multiverse, since Night is now shattering that view. He makes several trips, regularly over the course of a few months. Biding his time. The balance isn't tipping yet. Until he can become at least slightly familiar enough with this Ccino to ask the burning question. How does one care for another living being?

Ccino, at this point, is used to his weird British customer and his odd way of asking questions. Asks if he means a pet, like a cat. Nightmare clarifies that, no, he means monsters. And Ccino has to try and figure out what he means by that. Is he expecting? Is he... adopting? He asks the second one, and Nightmare nods. Ccino breathes a sigh of relief, and realizes it must be because Nightmare is a boss monster. They live much different lives from a normal monster, require less to eat, less sleep, rely on their magic a lot more heavily. He suggests Nightmare come by again the next day and by then he might have some advice.

And while Ccino mostly gives him information on how to raise kids, from babies to teens, Nightmare takes in the information. He's still convinced he's learning all this because he wants to make perfect soldiers. Monsters who will obey him through whatever means that last Horror had. So he takes in all the information he can. He focuses a lot on the suggestions for teenagers. Even though the ones he had before were certainly adults, they often had outbursts and these solutions seemed reasonable. And Ccino was kind enough to stay after closing to talk with him on multiple occasions. It became a little club, between the two of them, almost.

And then Nightmare finally went out to find new replacements. 4th time's the charm.

The first one he collected this time was a Killer. The most volatile usually, but also the easiest to coerce into cooperating with his goals. Normally, his first act would be to let the Killer run loose in the streets and hunt him down. A show of dominance and control. This time, he decided he'd show patience. He stole away the Killer like he normally would, and left him out on a street, but with a note in his pocket. Detailing exactly what Nightmare was offering and why, along with the address of the mansion incase he wanted to discuss more.

It only took two days before Killer arrived at Nightmare's doorstep. He was cautious, but Nightmare was cordial. Not subtle, no, he acknowledged that he was actively kidnapping him. That if he made a misstep Nightmare would kill him. That he was replaceable. But, he also explained exactly what he was looking for from Killer, and *offered* work to him. Killer wandered away for a few more days, before coming back and accepting.

The trial runs with Killer were rough the first few months. Nightmare visited Ccino less, and found himself trying very hard to balance authority, Killer's loyalty, and the fragile trust growing between them. Sometimes he'd catch Killer doing something and he'd physically refrain from lashing out and punishing. Other times, though strangely only when Killer was making choices poor for his own health, Nightmare lashed out. Corrective behavior was not kind, but it was for the best in Nightmare's mind.

One thing he had a lot of trouble with was letting Killer explore the domain. He used to restrict all his henchmen inside unless they were hunting or on missions. Killer had an insatiable urge to explore, and several times Nightmare saw it as escape attempts. Dragging Killer back inside with threats of retaliation. Only once he let Killer escape and *watch* what he did, he realized he was literally just looking around, picking up trinkets, once he stole a shirt and brought it back with him. Then he returned, willingly, to the mansion. It was no trick, no escape, just simple curiosity. Nightmare took a page out of the book of the advice from Ccino and actually complimented Killer's shirt when he finally wore it one day. Killer's hackles were raised about it, obviously afraid of punishment, but Nightmare waved it off. As long as he wasn't bringing harm to himself or running away, Nightmare didn't mind.

It was only after Killer proved himself capable of hunting down captives in the city maze that Nightmare went out to find another. The 4th Dust.

Dust was a bit more of a handful than usual. Maybe it was because Nightmare wasn't stern enough. Or maybe it was because this Killer was a lot more friendly than his others had been. This Dust immediately attacked. Instead of aiming at Nightmare, it was aimed at Killer. Normally, it the past, he would've let Killer get hurt. Learn a lesson. This time he tugged his Killer out of the line of fire and forced Dust to listen to him. Held him in place.

Dust did not wander into the city like Night had let Killer do. He was confined to the mansion, mainly because Nightmare knew the previous Dusts had a tendency to curl up and let themselves rot if given the chance. So, Nightmare made sure he was fed, and would dunk him in the pond if he refused to bathe, and was always on the watch for hostile attacks, all while Killer was usually playing antagonist.

Nightmare's actually not sure what it was, but one day Dust simply... stopped disobeying his orders. He was up for breakfast, and didn't make Nightmare drag him out to see Killer chase down a victim. Nightmare did his best to be genuine when he told Dust he was pleased to see him up and about.

(Killer had been part of the change in attitude. He would sit outside Dust's door when Night was out and tell him how good of a gig it was. Nightmare wasn't perfect, but the place was cool and it was better than an empty underground. Killer was right, it was better than an empty underground. He gave it a shot and found he didn't feel awful.)

Dust still had his days ofc. Days where he'd get overwhelmed during a mission and overwhelm his magic. Days where he'd be too exhausted or depressed to get out of bed. Days where he hated being there and wanted to go back to his old au. But, on those days Nightmare would check in on him verbally, and visit with meals, or a small gift, or answer a question. Dust liked it when Nightmare answered his questions. And Nightmare, sometimes, would twitch his tendrils and throw something around when Dust was out of commission... but never infront of him. In front of Killer? Yes. Infront of Dust? No. That was not for Dust to worry about.

Sometime after Dust warmed up to him, he resolved to let them visit Ccino. Ccino had been asking about how things were going, and Nightmare wasn't sure how to express the extent of his frustrations a lot of the time. Ccino had suggested a visit might help if they were antsy. Nightmare had agreed.

After a particularly hard day, Nightmare having run into Dream, Blue, and Ink while on a supply run with the two he had, he decided they deserved a break. He prefaced that they were not to torment. Not to harm. Not to do any damages or there would be consequences. When both had agreed, thinly veiled curiosity, Nightmare took them to the au. Just around closing time. He adopted his shapeshifted passive form and brought the two of them along.

Ccino has been... visibly shocked. These were obviously two full-grown, or at least in they 20s-30s, monsters. They didn't look like they were in the best states either. But he'd held himself strong as Nightmare guided them to sit at his and Ccino's usual rounded table, the two extra chairs now being used up. Nightmare handed them the menu, and it seemed he got hesitant orders from both of them before approaching Ccino at the counter. He ordered. Ccino got to work.

When the drinks were brought out, Ccino was almost pleasantly relieved to find that the two additional monsters had cats swarming them. Nightmare introduced them, and Ccino saw how Killer had one cat cradled in each arm, both purring up a storm. Dust had one in his lap, asleep, with one of his hoodie-strings trapped by the cat's jaws. Night didn't bother with a made-up story. Just vaguely explained that they had come from toxic and unhealthy environments and were staying with him for the time being. Like... roommates. Ccino just kinda has to accept that the other two don't seem to be in any immediate distress and minds his own business.

I think it'd be at least a year or two, Nightmare ensuring he's made Killer and Dust comfortable and loyal. Making sure he knows just how to keep them alive properly, and establishing silently to his enemies (the stars) that he's done using expendable pawns. That's when he finally collects the 4th Horror.

It was a hard choice for him. Something about seeing another Horror's face, especially after he'd finally been making an effort to provide better support and care to this Killer and Dust? He figured it out. His last Horror was only so obedient and relaxed because if he was, Nightmare went softer on the others. When the others were both gone, he lost hope. Nightmare, some part of him, was scared he'd do it all over again. Somehow lose Killer and Dust and be left with just Horror. That was why he focused so heavily on Killer and Dust's wellbeing this time. So this Horror wouldn't have to worry. Would turn out the same.

And the plan worked out. Nightmare brought himself to go find a Horror. One from a collapsing timeline, right in the cross heirs of Error's attacks. He was basically a scrap of code, and Nightmare tugged him to safety at the last second. This Horror was confused, but grateful, until he noticed Killer and Dust. Horror was entirely avoidant of the two for the longest time, willing to do as Nightmare said once he heard him out, saw what was happening, but he did NOT like Dust or Killer. He was cagey, kept to himself, only showing weakness if he was injured in battle or had fallen ill. Night tried to watch out for him, but that wedge between the three of them was troublesome. Night hoped it'd work itself out. It never quite did.

Night doesn't have a favorite. He'll refer to Killer for important tasks, he's been there the longest. He'll let Dust fall asleep on the couch near to him and curl tendrils around him while he haps. He'll find recipe books and new supplies from aus for Horror to try out. He'd willingly get in the way of any attack to improve their chances of survival. Having said this, he pays an extra attention to Horror. Everyone notices it, Horror finds it unsettling sometimes but can mostly ignore it. It isn't until a fight with Dream where Horror chases Ink off to the side and Ink reveals to him the fate of the last Horror that any of them know *why*. Horror takes time to process it, before bringing it up to Nightmare very very nervously.

Nightmare, pained, admits his previous faults. He's not proud of his methodologies back then. He doesn't admit how much he cares about this 4th round of them. He doesn't need to.

Fun bonus! There's a year where Cross comes into the picture. At first he seeks out Nightmare for his help. Like in Underverse, he wants to rebuilt his au. But Nightmare denies him. It wouldn't benefit him or the others, it wouldn't benefit the balance, find someone else. But Cross can't. When he tries to work alone, Cross finds that Dream and the stars intercept him. They assume he'd working for Nightmare, which he denies, and they try to talk with him. Ask what he's doing. Ink and Dream can't allow Cross to keep going, even if he's trying to make himself a new home. They ask if he wants to join them. Defend against evil in the multiverse. And as it is, he has to agree.

So Cross teams up with the stars for a while. But as he's working with them, things don't seem to be lining up. Dream claims Nightmare tortures his followers, trades them out like cheap toys. But... Cross never sees these ones change. And if one gets too injured, Nightmare calls a retreat. The same ones come back each time. Even in the midst of battle Nightmare seemed to keep tabs on all of his players.

Once, Cross isolated Dust from the rest of the fighting. He was wounded and clearly getting more exhausted by the second. When Cross pinned him finally, he asked if he wanted to stop fighting. To go somewhere safe. Away from Nightmare. Dust had always seemed like the most actively dis-engaged fighter of the three. Cross thought he could convince him. But Dust just stares at him and says "Nah." Before getting a second wind and summoning an attack again. Cross tried to knock him out, take him by force, but the hit just dazed him rather than knocking him out, and by then Nightmare had figured out where they were. Seeing, or sensing, Dust's state, he signals for retreat instantly. Cross is forced to move or get skewered by darkness, and he's shocked by how gently Nightmare scoops up the dazed Dust, and how willingly Dust let's it happen. Horror and Killer are right on Nightmare's tail and hop through the portal first. Night through very last.

Cross had never seen Nightmare pick up his men so carefully before. Usually they'd walk through on their own, or he'd lift with tendrils. This time he carried Dust in his own arms. That was... weird.

Cross, eventually, comes to terms with not rebuilding his AU, just being barred from it for so long. But it takes *ages* before he goes to Nightmare. For one reason or another, Cross realizes that the state of his friendship with Dream is unhealthy. I mean, Dream cares for him, but it feels overbearing. And when he asked to visit the omega timeline once, Dream advised against it. Basically placed him on house-arrest unless everyone was going out to fight. He had to stay inside Dream's au, since he was an outcode. A fragile one. (Dream was afraid of losing Cross, like he'd lost many others.)

During a fight, Cross decides he's going to try something new. He's going to get as close as physically possible to the portal at the end of the fight, and lunge inside at the last second. No weapons, no hostility, nothing. That Domain of Nightmare's is untraceable. He needs in there.

And when he enacts the plan? Nightmare actually allows it. On his end, acting like he didn't notice a thing until he steps through.

Ofc, Cross immediately got tackled and pinned by Killer, but Cross doesn't fight back. Night demands he explain himself, abd Cross takes one more hesitant look at the surrounding enemies before admitting. Dream's kept him on a short leash since he joined. No exploring, no harsh training, no visiting friends, nothing. He needed to get somewhere Dream couldn't follow him. Even though it was a suicide mission, Night's domain was the safest choice.

And Nightmare was frankly baffled. Someone had willingly chose his domain over his brother's? It was a bit of an honor. But I'm the sane breath, he couldn't just let Cross leave. If he did, then that wouldn't be just to his three loyal wards.

So, Nightmare gave him an ultimatum. Either he stayed and acted as a teammate, eventually earning privileges just like the others had, or they could kill him. No one can just freely enter the au and expect Sanctuary. Cross knew as much, and as much as it seemed to pain him, he agreed he'd work for Nightmare.

And for Cross? Nightmare decided to reach back into the old days. He told Cross he had ten minutes to go somewhere in the city. Evade for as long as he could. Told him to get running. Only when Cross had confusedly left the mansion did Nightmare tell the group that whoever could scare Cross the most, without intentionally wounding him, would get to choose the next big leisure item he brought back from supply-running.

Boy did the guys torment him! Nightmare kept an eye on it, and there was some excellent restraint from all three of them. It went on for several hours, and Nightmare only cut it short because he'd noticed Cross had developed a limp. Some sort of twisted ankle maybe? (For the record, Dust managed to win. He suggested a projector for movies and stuff.) Back at the castle they all sat at the table, including Cross (though he was wary) and ate. Then they had leisure time. Then curfew. The next morning, when Cross was still limping, he postponed further 'training' to check how truly hurt Cross was.

Basically, Cross figures out Nightmare only does fucked-up stuff because it's part of his nature. He needs to to survive. Outside of that? He's learned to be amicable and borderline kind to those he cares about. Cross is there to witness Killer getting his first cat, he's there to witness the three of them get into intense debates about high-level science and scribble all over a whiteboard, he's there to witness a lot of good moments. Including Nightmare bringing a Ccino for a visit to the house.

This Ccino visit is prompted by him noticing the boys haven't been by with Night lately. Nightmare assures him that they're fine, but also suggests Ccino could come by for a visit? And Ccino, friendly and optimistic Ccino, agrees. Nightmare, upon portalling them, walks a bit with Ccino. Explaining the nature of the realm and why he lives there. Ccino listens and accepts it, even if he is a little spooked. Nightmare then guides him to the mansion and shows him around. The guys are all screwing around in the kitchen, trying to make cookies with Horror. The three are excited to see Ccino and greet him. Cross, who was sitting in the corner trying nit to make things worse with the batter, was confused to find a normal Ccino visiting the domain. A part of him was angry, another was hurt, but he kept quiet. The Ccino was nice and greeted the others, then introduced himself to Cross. Cross did the same.

Ccino, at this point, officially became knowledgeable of the multiverse and unintentionally/intentionally aligned himself with Nightmare. Night seemed to be doing very well despite all the worries he'd had, and also, Ccino considers Night to be a friend. They discuss books together, play newspaper games, etc etc.

After Ccino leaves he starts getting more multiversal visitors, he can always tell, but he has his favorites.

...

Hard cut, day 2 of adding to this ramble post and now I have drawn designs with extra lore!!

Nightmare and Dream's magic from the apple incident has condensed around their skulls like halos! They can't be touched nir damaged by attacks, but they do glow when either is feeding/exerting their magic.

Nightmare did his best to keep the 4th round of the mtt in top shape, but it wouldn't last forever. Dust was the first one to get a major injury, though it wasn't very prominent visually. Shortly after they got Horror, Dust was slashed in the socket by one of Ink's corrosive paints. He fought through the pain, but upon getting back to the base, Nightmare discovered Dust's state. Nightmare's first instinct was to clean the wound like he'd been taught by Ccino, then to ask if Dust could still use the magic in that eye. As it stands, he still can't reconnect to the mana there. Night fought against every instinct telling him that Dust was broken, and to get a new one, and just told him to go rest and recover. Dust has a scar on his bone and his eyelight is missing in that socket. But he's alive, which is a testament to Nightmare's improvement.

Killer lost his leg shortly after they took in Cross. It was a combative fight where Dream wouldn't let up, hunting them down to any au they moved to, not allowing them to make the supply run they'd been on (it was after a period of quiet after Cross ran and was taken in by Night. Dream + the others believe Nightmare killed him.). It was Blue who almost got a solid hit in on Dust, but Killer got in the way to block. Only, he wasn't sturdy enough and his leg-bone practically shattered when he tried to stop Blue's swing. Horror scooped Killer up, and in the wave of negativity and Dust's cursing that followed, Nightmare signaled a retreat.

Under normal circumstances, such a substantial, mobility-altering, injury would prompt Nightmare to just put a follower out of their misery and claim a new one. But. Not anymore. He had to act fast because Killer was fading in consciousness abd Nightmare was never one for major wounds like limb loss. Luckily, Horror was familiar, and him and Night managed to stop Killer's limb from dusting any further up his body. (Dust was furious with Killer for taking that hit. Horror was shocked. Nightmare regretted not taking up the rear in the first place. Cross was mortified to see Killer in such a state and was 1000% sure Night was going to off him.)

Recovery for Killer was... rocky. About 50/50 good/bad days, but he pulled through and learned to use a prosthetic. In the meantime, Cross offered to cover for Killer on runs if he was needed, a good step for Cross and for Nightmare. But, instead, Nightmare asked Cross to focus on making sure Killer didn't hurt himself while the others were out on runs. He couldn't risk revealing Cross' being alive just yet. This leads to plenty of Killer Cross bonding time, and Killer gets to tell all sorts of stories about how much the Boss has been improving. Killer knows he was the pet project, the test dummy to this 'new him'. Nightmare hasn't laid much of a finger on Horror, abd only let them spook Cross, while Killer was tossed around like a ragdoll. And now look! Night was going through the trouble of replacing his limb and nursing him back to health! For Killer it's like watching someone take their first steps. Cross realizes then that Nightmare hasn't always been like this. He used to be worse. He's taking steps on his own to improve. And for what? The sakes of Killer, Dust, and Horror?

Meanwhile, Dream has Blue and Ink, both of whom he extends his positive magic to. Even when they're in their own domains, they can spread his aura to those they interact with and call upon his power.

Unlike those two, he's also allied with Outer and Lust! Those two are from the omega timeline, and they work to help anyone fleeing from destroyed, corrupted, or otherwise uninhabitable aus. They had their own little thing going before Dream entered the picture, but when he approached them about seeing anyone from a destroyed au, they kept in contact. Now they act as a little home-base, keeping track of the battles and the conflicts and making sure the main three fighters don't work themselves into the ground. And! Because the main 3 are always out and about? If you need help with smaller tasks, Lust and Outer are on it. Lust finds it a nice distraction from his past and anxieties, and Outer does it as repayment to Dream (who saved his life from the 3rd Killer once).

Uhhh, one last note I think? Horror is the favorite child from an outsider + inside pov. Night doesn't think that way, but he is actively more careful with Horror than the others. He feels like he failed the last one (he failed all of them but y'know) and he can fix it with this one. This one doesn't understand the treatment and often resents it, but decides not to say anything lest he offset whatever kindness Nightmare is doing for the others. The others don't mind that Horror is effectively the favorite. They know Nightmare was fucked up long before they arrived, and it was just one of his many quirks.

[theconstantsidekick]

so tempted to write him into the static verse SO FUCKING TEMPTED

[venusiancarbondioxide]

there is one joy in this human life and it's making two people who are weird about intimacy cuddle. that's it; that's the joy in life.

[ragnarokhound]

trick or treat!

(that intricate rituals snippet👀👀HOO)

Happy Halloween, anon, I'm glad you enjoyed!

(And hee hee... in that case: )

“Did you think I didn’t notice?” Tim says, threaded with teasing hunger as Jason stares, caught. “I could smell it coming, baby. You have all of my attention. Now that I know it’s for me—” Tim’s chest still hitches when he talks about them like this. When he bites down on the instinct to shy away, to hide; when he acknowledges directly that Jason is for him. It never fails to satisfy something snarling and animal inside of Jason, it— “—you should never doubt for a second that I’m for you.” Fuck.

(For the trick or treat ask game! Send me a trick or treat ask and I'll share jaytim WIP snippets, or new 3-sentence -paragraph fics, etc :^) through the 31st!)

[bittsandpieces]

how do you determine order for your seven minutes? Random selection, you choose, or first come first cum :D

I'm thinking it's a spin the bottle situation outside the room, where the last person who went spins it to pick the next. obviously once you've gone, your out of the circle, but I like the idea of having to come back out and let everybody see you, all post sex flushed and sweaty, before you get to move on with your night

[mechazushi]

Don't ask how my brain came up with this...

Kafka as Spiderman and Hoshina as J. Jonah. Jameson and they're in a secret relationship with Hoshina knowing who Spiderman is. Which leads to a whole different interpretation of menace.

Hoshina: That Kaijuman is a menace!

Kafka(as Kaijuman and outside Hoshina's office window.): You're just mad because I made you cum first last night!

Hoshina: *whips around and tries to launch a coffee mug through the open window at his Kaiju/spider lover* *Kafka catches it and webs it to the high ceiling of his office, just out of reach before he swings away.*

Hoshina: KAIJUMAAAAN!

[analyticallyminded]

what if I......started rewatching aos from the beginning again

[quietlyblooms]

chiyo vc: i can get behind a lil murder if they deserve it, but ya gotta draw a line somewhere

[andessence]

hello treasured mutuals! if you have not absolutely had it up to here with me for fixating so heavily on the vampire armand lately.... if indeed you are here for the armand content ..... and we don't have any threads underway, today i offer you STARTER CALL FOR ARMAND. tomorrow? who knows...

[akirakirxaa]

Day 31: Free Day

(Inspired by prompt "OTP Grocery shopping/cooking together", Hyth and Hades Stay AU.)

Unlike Hades, Hythlodaeus had not seen so much of the star as it is now as to be bored by it. In fact, he was absolutely ecstatic to accompany Akira on mundane errands just to see more of it. So that's what brought him with her to the Steppe as she picked up some of her harder to obtain but dearly loved ingredients.

Upon their return home, he enthusiastically joined her in cooking, performing what steps he knew and watching Akira to learn the ones he did not. Akira was still unused to having such a full household, so she appreciated the help.

It also made it feel much more fun than just another chore.

Dinner complete, they settled together to wait for their third. Maybe not so patiently as they began picking at the food anyways.

[rattlesnakeshine]

VERSE IV: supernatural horror AU

After being killed in a violent altercation preceded by betrayal and motivated by greed, Dregs is left in a shallow grave, unmarked and deep in the countryside. There's no rest to be had, and he claws his way out of the mud on the very next night. After getting revenge on the ones who orchestrated his death, he assumed, and perhaps hoped, his life would truly end, but instead he's left with a hunger only satiated by human flesh, with no reason to keep going other than being left with no other choice.

__

Dregs is, essentially, a ghoul: an undead creature who consumes human flesh. Without it, he won't die, but he will become extremely weak and be in great discomfort, and even pain, if he goes long enough. He's able to walk in the sun, but he's weakened (less so on overcast days), and the off-look of him is more obvious in the light of day -- the grayish tint his formerly deep brown skin has taken on, and the way his eyes aren't quite shiny enough, and the whites are slightly yellowed. He has scars from the fatal injuries he sustained: bullet holes in his chest and abdomen and the jagged cut of a knife deep in his side. While they are healed, they don't look like something one would survive, particularly the knife wound, which has left a deep gouge where the flesh never regrew.

[scvcnofswords]

five times protective:      ( five times the receiver was protective of the sender ) For Regin & Solas || @fadewalking || 5+1 Things Drabbles || NOT accepting

That  Regin  has  always  been  protective  of  the  people  around  her  is  a  truth  that  isn't  hard  to  note.  She  has  been  Herald  all  of  two  weeks-  despite  her  protests-  the  first  time  that  the  characteristic  is  displayed.  The  Hinterlands  are  marred  by  chaos-  scarred  from  the  clashes  between  the  mages  attempting  to  seize  their  autonomy  and  independence  from  the  templars-  who,  despite  separating  themselves  from  the  Chantry,  still  see  fit  to  hunt  their  former  charges.  And  amongst  the  mages,  there  has  been  a  surge  of  those  with  more  malicious  hearts  seizing  power  from  their  fellows-  and  the  innocents  of  Ferelden  keep  getting  seized  in  the  crossfire. 

The  day  in  question-  they've  run  into  Templars,  and  the  battle  has  been  something  vicious.  Cassandra,  Varric,  Solas,  and  Regin-  they're  all  still  new  to  one  another.  They're  all  still  learning  one  another,  and  how  to  work  off  of  one  another,  so  things  aren't  as  seamless  as  they  could  be.  Cassandra  clips  Regin  as  she  surges  forward  to  clash  with  a  templar  holding  a  tower-shield,  Regin  slips  right  out  from  the  radius  of  Solas'  barrier  spell  a  half-second  before  it  would've  taken  effect  to  slam  a  telekinetically-boosted  punch  into  a  shadow's  breastplate,  crushing  it. 

But  the  trouble  comes  when  Cassandra  ends  up  locked  with  one  of  their  warriors,  when  Varric  is  attempting  to  help  her  by  distracting  her  opponent  as  his  bolts  ricochet  off  of  the  templar's  shield.  The  other  surviving  warrior  has,  somehow,  managed  to  corner  Solas  after  the  Fadewalker  had  taken  the  shadow  out-  his  sword  is  lifted  to  swing  into  a  vicious  arc,  while  the  other  elf's  back  is  turned.  Regin  doesn't  think  she  just-  Moves. 

Twisting  through  a  fade-step  she  comes  into  being  nearly  against  Solas'  back,  one  hand  raising  to  catch  the  blade  in  a  snare  made  of  wind  only  an  inch  above  her  palm.  The  templar  snarled,  stunned  and  furious-  but  he  has  no  time  for  more  than  that,  as  Regin  raises  her  other  hand  and  sends  a  bolt  of  compressed  air  right  through  their  breastplate,  through  their  heart.  She  pants,  trying  to  catch  her  breath  as  her  heart  races-  and  then  turns  to  look  at  Solas,  wide-eyed.  “Are  you  alright?” 

-

The  comments  made,  sometimes,  about  her,  do  get  to  her.  But  she  can  never  show  a  reaction  to  those,  can  never  let  herself  be  gotten  to  in  public.  She  is  the  Inquisitor,  now,  she  is  the  Herald,  and  if  she  is  to  join  the  leaders  of  the  world  at  their  table  and  demand  that  they  hear  her,  she  cannot  pay  much  mind  to  the  words  whispered  about  her  at  times  through  the  hall  of  Skyhold.  Whether  they're  positive  or  negative. 

However-  when  comments  are  made  about  her  inner  circle,  her  advisors  have  learned  it's  best  to  just  deal  with  the  fallout-  for  she  will  not  be  quiet  in  those  moments. 

Earlier  in  the  week,  Dorian  and  Vivienne  had  made  comments  on  Solas  being  an  ‘unwashed  apostate  hobo’.  It  had  been  out  in  the  field  and  in  the  moment,  she  had  let  him  handle  it,  despite  the  way  the  words  stuck  under  her  own  skin.  He  was  only  an  apostate,  of  those  things-  and  with  the  collapse  of  the  Circles,  Vivienne  was,  essentially,  an  apostate  herself,  loathe  as  she  was  to  admit  it. 

But  somehow  the  commentary  had  made  it  to  Skyhold-  and  when  she  hears  a  visiting  noble  making  that  same  remark,  she  spins  about  on  her  heel-  hears  Josephine  curse  quietly  under  her  breath  behind  her. 

“I'd  advise  caution,  my  lord,  in  the  words  you  speak  of  my  advisor-  of  which  Solas  is,  just  as  much  as  Ambassador  Montilyet,”  Regin  hisses,  stepping  closer.  The  masked  man  has  frozen,  clearly  not  expecting  that  she  would  have  heard  him-  The  fool  seemed  to  think  that  tell  of  elves  having  better  hearing  is  nothing  but  propoganda.  She  cares  not,  stepping  right  into  his  space  and  cocking  her  head. 

“And  my  lord,  you  of  all  people  have  no  grounds  to  be  calling  anyone  unwashed.  Solas  takes  great  care  to  keep  himself  clean-  whereas  whether  you  do  or  not,  the  cologne  you  wear  smells  so  strongly  of  sickly-sweet  rot  that  it  does  not  matter  how  much  you  bathe-  the  heads  you  turn  everywhere  you  go  are  assuredly  not  due  to  your  ‘superior  fashion’  or  your  grand  bloodline,  but  shock  in  that  you  were  brave  enough  to  leave  the  house  smelling  as  you  do.  Or…  dear  gods,  I  do  hope  that  it's  only  your  cologne.” 

The  man  sputters,  wordless-  while  the  women  around  him  lean  in  towards  one  another,  clearly  trying  to  bite  back  laughter.  Regin  pointedly  wrinkles  her  nose  before  stepping  backwards  and  away,  and  glancing  to  Josie.  “-  We'll  fnish  our  discussion  later,  my  lady  Montiliyet.  I  find  my  stomach  has  turned.”  That  said,  she  gives  the  man  a  final,  scathing  look,  and  stalks  past  him,  through  the  door  into  the  rotunda. 

-

Six  years  since  he'd  saved  her  life-  since  she'd  seen  him  last. 

Since  she'd  started  hunting  him-  to  stop  him,  to  save  him-  for  reasons  the  world  approves  of,  and  those  that  it  wouldn't.  But  today-  well.  She's  already  found  him-  or,  more  accurately,  his  agents  within  the  Arbor  Wilds.  The  golden  falcon  lingers  in  the  branches  of  a  tree,  watching  as  they  descend  into  the  ruin  she'd  already  fully  explored-  and  where  the  treasured  scroll  they're  seeking,  on  theories  of  rending  apart  connections  or  bonds  of  intangible  items,  has  already  been  taken. 

In  its'  place,  however,  a  note. 

Only  days  ago,  Regin  had  been  in  a  meeting  with  the  new  ruling  council  of  the  Dales,  an  ambassador  and  his  regiment  of  soldiers  and  once-Seekers  from  Orlais,  and  an  ambassador  from  Ferelden.  It  had  been  on  the  matter  of  Venatori  and  qunari  movements-  and  in  it,  she'd  heard  tell  of  something…  Troubling. 

It's  true,  she's  hunting  Solas  to  stop  him-  to  alter  his  plans,  really,  for  she  cannot  disagree  that  the  Veil  is  a  matter  that  must  be  solved,  though  she  cannot  stand  by  and  accept  the  devastation  that  Solas  seemed  so  resigned  to.  But  the  Seekers-  they  had  huddled  together  at  one  point  after  the  meeting,  thinking  themselves  entirely  alone  in  the  quarters  that  they'd  been  giving  within  Fort  Revasan. 

It  really  was  incredible,  how  everyone  in  the  world  seemed  so  determined  to  forget  that  she  was  a  shapeshifter. 

But  they'd  spoken-  of  how  they  intended  to  lay  a  trap  for  the  Wolf  in  a  ruin  only  recently  uncovered  in  Orlais  during  a  mining  expedition.  How  something  within  was  so  prized  there  was  no  way  he'd  be  able  to  resist-  How  they  had  created  an  artifact  that  would  nullify  any  mage's  power  if  they  stepped  within  its'  radius-  even,  in  theory,  one  so  powerful  as  him,  and  cause  searing,  agonizing  pain,  enough  to  bring  any  man  to  their  knees.  Allegedly.  How  they  planned  to  use  it,  and  then  to  ‘put  down’  the  elvhen  ‘hound’  that  was  Fen'Harel.   

She  doubts,  really.  That  he  would  go  to  the  ruin  himself,  if  he  does  go  at  all-  though  she  had  had  her  own  agents  look  into  the  matter  and  they'd  confirmed  it  was  a  ruin  somehow  unlike  any  other,  preserved  almost  as  well  as  the  Temple  of  Mythal  in  the  Arbor  Wilds-  Possibly  with  sleeping  ancients  inside. 

If  he  does  not  go  himself,  he  might  send  agents  of  his  own.  And  if  they  walk  into  this  trap,  they  will  die.  She  is  working  against  him.  She  is  hunting  him.  Regin  knows  this-  and  she  means  all  of  it.  Stands  by  everything  she'd  said,  is  convicted  in  truth  to  her  cause.  She  will  chase  him  and  save  this  world-  and  her  once-dearest-friend,  or  die  in  the  trying.  But  this-  She  can't  ignore  this.  All  of  the  information,  she'd  written  into  a  letter  and  left  where  the  coveted  scroll  had  originally  been.  And  hours  later,  as  his  agents  exit  the  ruin  without  their  prize-  but  not  empty  handed,  one  of  them  carrying  the  warning  she  left,  the  falcon-that-is-Regin  sighs  softly  in  relief-  and  then  takes  off  into  the  sky,  to  return  to  her  own  camp. 

He  will  heed  her,  or  he  won't.  She  hopes  he  will. 

-

Rook's  comment  towards  Bellara-  Regin  almost  misses  it,  really-  but  when  it  registers,  her  head  snaps  to  stare  at  the  pair,  breaking  off  the  -frankly,  lovely-  conversation  she'd  been  having  with  Professor  Volkarin. 

'Varric  always  says  that  Solas  will  have  some  long,  drawn  out  series  of  excuses  about  how  none  of  this  was  his  fault','  Rook  had  scoffed,  shaking  their  head.  And  Bellara  had  looked  troubled,  folding  her  arms-  and  the  first  part  of  the  comment  she  had  lost,  but  the  second-  ‘All  the  chaos  that  came  of  him  rebelling  against  the  Evanuris…  I  can’t  help  but  to  wonder  if  it  was  really  worth  it.' 

“…  If  Varric  stated  that  of  Solas,  then  he  understood  him  less  than  I  thought,”  Regin  says,  sharply-  watching  as  they  both  jump  and  then  look  to  her  in  a  manner  somehow  reminiscent  of  a  child  with  their  hand  caught  somewhere  it  shouldn't  be.  “It  has  never  been  that  Solas  doesn't  think  any  of  this  is  his  fault.  The  issue,  almost  entirely,  is  that  he  takes  responsibility  for  everything.  Everything  that  came  of  the  Veil  in  this  world.  The  oppression  of  mages  and  elves,  the  lose  of  elvhen  autonomy  and  sovereignty,  the  loss  of  elvhen  immortality,  the  subjugation,  binding,  and  murder  of  spirits  that  are  demonized  and  viewed  as  less  than,  simply  because  they  do  not  possess  bodies-  to  Solas,  all  of  these  things  are  his  fault,  regardless  that  this  is  not  the  truth.  He  is-  trapped  so  deeply  in  his  regrets,  his  fears,  his  grief,  that  he  cannot  see  another  way.”  Her  gaze  shifts,  then,  to  Bellara. 

“And  despite  the  chaos-  despite  the  bloodshed,  despite  the  pain-  it  is  never  right,  to  sit  by  as  tyrants  lay  waste  to  people  and  grow  fat  on  the  power  they  gain  from  those  they  oppress.  To  do  otherwise  is  to  sit  within  a  burning  house  and  love  the  smoke  that  you  breathe  in  as  it  kills  you.”  She  shakes  her  head-  then  turns,  murmuring  a  quiet  apology  to  Emmrich. 

“Solas  is  an  oppositional  force,  and  he  is  a  foe-  but  he's  not  a  monster.  And  not  everything  he's  done  is  wrong.  He  was  entrapped  in  war  against  the  Blighted  Evanuris  for  centuries  if  not  millennia.  We  are  facing  two  of  them-  and  much  of  the  world  is  losing.  You  might  wish  to  look  outside  of  your  own  perspectives.”  That  said,  Regin  turns  and  strides  for  the  music  room,  feeling  a  vicious,  directionless  anger  twisting  with  grief  within  her  chest. 

-

When  Solas  recoils  from  the  fragment  of  Mythal,  Regin  feels  that  old-  protectiveness,  that  old  fury  at  the  queen  of  the  Evanuris  burn  in  her  chest.  Morrigan  lays  a  hand  on  her  shoulder,  pinning  her  in  place-  and  she  watches,  throat  tight,  eyes  burning,  as  the  long-dead  ruler  speaks  to  Solas-  gives  some  twisted  form  of  apology  and  releases  him  from  her  service. 

There  is  a  part  of  her-  a  visceral  part  of  her,  buried  beneath  the  Well's  presence  in  her  mind-  that  wishes  Mythal  stood  before  her  in  flesh,  and  wishes  she  could  grasp  her  by  the  throat  and  shake  her.  To  see  the  man  she-  feels  so  deeply  for-  to  see  her  friend  try  so  hard  to  make  himself  smaller,  deferential-  it  makes  her  feel  ill.  It  makes  her  feel  vile  for  having  contributed  to  this  plan,  to  force  him  to  face  the  woman  who  had  once  been  so  dear  to  him-  who  had  twisted  him  from  the  shape  he  had  meant  to  be,  whether  she'd  meant  to  or  not. 

Solas  is  not  blameless  in  the  things  done  alongside  Mythal.  Regin  would  never  claim  as  such.  But  that  does  not  change  that  his  dearest  friend  had  used  his  love  for  her,  his  trust  in  her-  horrifically.  The  same  woman  who  had  then  bound  a  fragment  of  herself  to  Flemeth-  and  not  once,  in  the  centuries  and  centuries  she  lived  with  the  wildswitch,  deigned  to  release  those  enslaved  to  her  in  her  Temple.  Not  sought  out  her  oldest  friend  and  tried  to  release  him  from  the  service  and  the  guilt  she  had  bound  to  his  being. 

It  is  a  relief,  when  her  ghost  dissipates.  It  is  a  horror,  when  Solas  nearly  goes  to  his  knees-  from  relief,  from  grief,  from  pain.  She  yanks  herself  out  from  under  Morrigan's  hand  and  steps  between  her  dearest  friend  and  the  others  behind  her.  Quietly,  Regin  sinks  to  her  own  knees  beside  him,  looking  into  his  face  as  he  weeps-  bloodied  and  bruised  and  labelled  now  as  broken  by  the  one  he'd  loved  and  grieved  so  long. 

“Ar  lasa  mala  revas  mala,  vena  mar'gir  shiral.  I'ma  tel'din  ema  shiral  ra'u.”  You  are  free,  now,  to  find  your  own  path.  You  do  not  have  to  journey  alone.  She  pauses,  gaze  searching  his  features,  feeling  glass  in  her  throat  as  he  sobs. 

“Ma  tel  ema'ama  sylal  ise'syl.”  You  do  not  have  to  keep  breathing  the  smoke-  an  old  saying,  but  fitting,  in  the  moment.  How  long  had  he  been  sitting  in  what,  to  him,  felt  like  a  burning  house,  the  only  one  to  see  it  burning,  and  still  forced  to  breathe  in  the  smoke  and  despair? 

When  he  rises-  when  he  binds  the  Veil  to  himself,  his  path  is  set,  she  knows.  And  when  she  steps  to  join  him,  the  surprise  in  his  eyes  doesn't  matter.

Hers  is  too. 

[chiropteracupola]

for interested parties, Here is the song about which I was rambling in the previous post.

[twilightichor]

Given to some observations of mine since I've decided to write Jinhsi, I came with the decision of withdrawing from posting calls consistently as I have, meaning that I won't write more starters basically. If you'd ever like one or don't see a way to strike an IC interaction, I encourage you peeps to approach me via what's more comfortable to you (I'll keep it private, of course) so we can come to an agreement, work together to make it happen!

[sansgout]

the thing with having a post-canon, off-the-rails vince (which I absolutely will) is that each time i think about writing up a quick description to slap on my verses page, i just Get Sad™ thinking about poor rody's fate ಥ_ಥ

me @ me: wdym he's ded in this verse wtf that's not allowed ???

the endless struggle of wanting to have that verse available for certain interactions (though I apologize to anyone who would engage in that verse bc vince is not okay), but depressing myself (and vince) having to accept rody's gone :')))) help

edit: ok i sucked it up and did it crisis averted

[unusualwhatsits]

Can this count as a WIP Wednesday if I never intend to finish it. Spidey!Will's design by Kidovna