#you have people all living in a city area probably at some point someone might mention a neighboring city or some landmark nearby

[icewindandboringhorror]

Recent game related things .. hrmm...

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls Chapter 11 1/2

masterpost

“It’s hard to believe that these people aren’t on any warning lists yet,” Jason mumbled to himself at the base of the sidewalk where he’d parked the rental bike. He had his hands in his pockets as he craned his neck upwards, trying to be stoic about the Fenton residence. A van was parked on the street, probably theirs. Weirdly, it had a big canvas draped over it. All he could see were the tires.

The base of the house was an unremarkable brick rectangle, taller than it was long. But the customization job had not been subtle. There was of course the enormous neon sign that Jack Fenton had probably designed. He wondered if he saw Madeline Fenton’s guiding hand in the shitty space-age aesthetic of the hulking metal goliath crouched on top of the brick building.

There was zero percent chance that was legal, which led to the question of why the city officials weren’t enforcing building safety on an obvious hazard.

Jason blew out air and snorted. “This is definitely the place.” He jogged up the unkempt lawn and hit the bell. An alarm started whining inside.

His hackles went up. A hand curled towards a gun, but didn't fully commit.

A joyful whoop came from inside the house. It was quickly followed by a bellowed “Coming!”, and then a huge thud.

Very normal, thanks.

‘Is that really just their doorbell?’ Jason thought, aghast.

The door was wrenched open. “Hello, hello, come in!” A beautiful middle-aged woman was there, looking up only slightly to make eye contact with Jason. She had faint laugh and smile lines.

“Hello,” Jason said, hesitating. “Do you need to finish up in the lab?” He gestured at her outfit, a little unnerved to see protective equipment just out in the open. It made him feel underdressed. It was always a bad idea to be wearing less protection from chemical warfare than someone else in the area. His Gothamite sensibilities considered it both a faux pas and a tactical error.

Madeline Fenton made a flapping hand gesture to blow the idea away. “No, I'm at a good spot!” The grin she gave him was somehow sharklike. “Jeremy, honey, won’t you come in?”

‘Said the spider to the fly,’ his subconscious filled in for some reason.

Jason shook it off, thanked her, and entered the house. Then he drew his gun on the thing that levered out of nowhere to point at him.

Turret. It was a fucking gun turret, in the entryway.

Madeline Fenton let out a cheerful “Huh!” and put her hand on top of the turret. There was a faint beep as she disengaged whatever alarm that had been. “You don’t have any stowaways, do you?”

She was not a good enough actor. He didn’t know what the hell that he meant, but he could hear real tension beneath her cheerful tone. “No, ma’am,” Jason edged. “Not that I know of.”

There was a pause. It felt a little heavy. Jason slowly holstered his gun, despite the wary suspicion that he actually might need to defend himself.

The moment passed. Dr. Madeline Fenton whirled around and cupped a hand to her face to sweetly shout, “Jack! Honey! Our guest is here!”

Something extremely heavy thudded. The floor actually shook under Jason’s feet from the impact.

The smile on Dr. Madeline Fenton’s face didn’t falter. A chill went up his spine.

‘She has to be on a watchlist. No way. I just didn’t find it.’

He followed her to the living room where she gestured for him to take a seat. A huge man burst through the other door.

“What did they feed you?” Jason asked blankly. “Do they have more of it?” Sure, he’d never fit in his current gear, but Talia had deep pockets for custom armor.

Dr. Jack Fenton had a hearty laugh. The couch creaked when he threw himself on it, but impressively, nothing broke. “Standard stuff growing up I’m afraid,” he said cheerfully. “I feed myself an awful lot of fudge, though! Maybe that’s what did it.”

While he was talking Jason barely noticed Madeline Fenton had slunk off in horrifically perfect silence, like a red-haired Talia. He respected that, but he did not like it.

‘She’s going to be the Doctor to me,’ Jason decided. ‘Jack is just Jack. I’m tired of calling them the same thing.’

“Oh,” Jason pretended to just now notice that someone was gone. He looked around. “I’m sorry, where did Dr. Fenton go?”

“Just getting refreshments!” Jack said cagily. He leaned forward. “Now, Jeremy, son-” he was cut off by a low siren coming from his wrist. He paused. He lifted his hand and pointed it around the room. The noise got louder when he pointed it at Jason.

[lavendertales]

SEÑORITA: Chapter 3

pairing: Javier Peña x Murphy!f!reader

summary: dinner at Steve & Connie's new apartment goes a little south as tension runs high between you and your brother—as well as between you and Javier.

word count: 4.4k

series warnings: reluctant friends to lovers, lots of playful banter, mutual pining, slow burn, secret relationship, filthy smut.

series masterlist | AO3

Javier had underestimated New York by all accounts. He knew it was a huge city, but the nickname “the city that never sleeps” somehow evaded him till he actually moved in here a few weeks ago. The constant lights, people everywhere, the noise… it all contributed to unwelcomed flashbacks for Javier, which meant that some nights he laid wide awake in his bed, too afraid to close his eyes.

He doesn’t want to see the bodies of those he had failed.

So instead, he thinks of Steve and Connie and their daughter, starting out fresh in the United States like Colombia’s hell hadn’t followed them, like it doesn’t still haunt them. He thinks of how they’re a family, united through love and support, and he thinks of you.

Rather, he thinks of your strained relationship with Steve, and he grimaces.

Javier tries to imagine a younger Steve being bossed around by his little sister and surprisingly, he has to suppress a chuckle. Quite a funny imagery, Javier decides as he roams around his kitchen at the crack of dawn, scrambling to make some toast and a cup of black coffee. It grows even funnier when he recalls Steve’s exact words about you: “growing up, even if she’s my little sister, she’s the one who bullied me”.

The smile that breaks from his lips remains amused for a little while as his dry breakfast is in the making. It only fades when his thoughts go into a rather surprising—and frankly forbidden area.

Though he begs his mind to oblige to basic commands and envision other things, Javier still falls victim to thoughts of you exchanging glares with so-called bad boys, batting your eyelashes at them and smiling, revealing enough cleavage only to tease, never to give the full taste.

And when he remembers that you live right below him, probably still asleep at this early hour, Javier clears his throat and takes the first bite of toast. He swallows with difficulty, even more so as he recalls the way your hand practically slid inside his pants, hectic and yet so calculated, with cat-like precision and without a care in the world as to how or if that may affect him.

Stop, he shushes his spinning mind.

He reckons this is happening because… well… it’s been a while. Fourteen months, to be exact. Last he shared some intimacy with someone was back in Cali with Gabriella, and it had been, as usual, something quick to take the edge off and satiate the body’s primal need, and they both called it a night. Then things went a bit south and next thing he knew, he packed up his things and returned to his pop’s ranch. And upon his pop’s repeated request, he spoke with Steve and they both agreed on taking this job in New York.

It’s unusual for Javier to be celibate for this long, but in the past year he’s come to realize that all of his encounters with women, while direct and straight to the point, have been meaningless—almost. It was never about having a relationship in the midst of a drug war; that much was clear from the get-go. And Javier never let any of the women he’d seen believe otherwise, less so himself. He wasn’t foolish enough to hope or even want a relationship, not after the things he’d seen and not after almost getting married for all the wrong reasons.

Almost. The word seems to haunt him as much as Colombia itself does.

He’s still not convinced he’d be a good partner to someone. So perhaps celibacy might be good for him. He could take this time to reflect more on himself and grow as a better man. He doesn’t really mind it, though.

When he’s getting in Steve’s car at 7 am sharp, he’s in a good, clear headspace. Especially because he’d hate to have his best friend know that he was thinking of his little sister less than an hour ago. Hell, even Javier doesn’t want to think about that.

But there’s no harm to wonder about someone, right? His thoughts hadn’t been depraved or resembling interest. He was simply being curious about who you are as a person.

“You doing okay today?” Steve asks.

“Peachy. Why?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda deep in thought.”

“Didn’t get enough sleep to be buried deep in thoughts.”

Steve chuckles, focused on the road. “How’s my sister doin’?”

“The fuck you askin’ me about your sister, how should I know?”

“I figured since you live in the same building you guys see each other on the daily.”

Javier immediately shakes his head, exhausted already from the conversation.

“Don’t do this, man,” he warns Steve. “Don’t even think about it.”

“About what? I didn’t insinuate anything.”

“You were about to. I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. I got no plans to mess with your sister and she’s not even the kind of girl I’d date. I’m steering clear of her, and we both got lives of our own, different schedules.”

“It’s all cool. I just figured you spoke more with her.”

Javier frowns. “You haven’t talked to her lately?”

“No, no, we have. Just… I don’t know, I guess I just assumed things would naturally pick up between us.”

“It’s not gonna be magically okay between you two. It’s been years, and it takes effort and time. But I’m sure you’ll—patch things up.”

“Thanks, man. Sorry if I seemed suspicious.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.”

Steve falters and Javier does take notice, but he doesn’t give him a hard time about it.

“Speaking of patching things up… our apartment’s ready, so Connie suggested we invite you both to dinner.”

“Sounds nice. When?”

“How about tonight?”

“Uh—yeah, sure.”

“Can you tell my sister too? Since—you know, you live in the same—“

“Why don’t you tell her yourself? Just call her and invite her.”

As he glances to the driver’s seat, Javier finally notices how nervous his friend looks.

“Why are you nervous?” he asks Steve. “You’re siblings for fuck’s sake.”

To which his friend shrugs, letting a heavy sigh along with it. “I did some mistakes in the past trying to look after her and I… I want us to be friends again.”

“I don’t think removing any male presence from her life is the solution.”

“Probably isn’t, yeah.”

“Probably?”

Both burst into laughter right as Steve parks in front of the precinct.

“You know I don’t actually think all that shit about you,” he tells Javier. “That you’re a womanizer and you mess with every woman you meet. I know you never mistreated any of the girls you were seeing, in any sort of way, and I know you wouldn’t do that to my sister.”

“I wouldn’t. That is, you know, if I’d actually date your sister. Which I won’t.”

“Yeah I know, she’s far from the women you normally—see.”

Javier unknowingly holds his breath, then releases it slowly and steadily, as to not give away the fact that the mention of dating and you in the same sentence requires deep breaths. It shouldn’t, really, but somehow knowing that Steve kindly asked him to stay away from his flesh and blood…

Yeah, maybe some deep breaths are required in order to forget the fact that he thought of you bright and early this morning, handling him like he was nothing but a piece of clay.

But his thoughts weren’t depraved to begin with, so he’s safe. It was simple curiosity.

“So tonight, what time?” Javier inquires instead.

“Seven.”

“Alright.”

Javier gets through the day’s tasks with little to no exertion. He keeps quieter than usual, which luckily none of his colleagues or superiors notice because no one’s taking the time to know anyone personally, and today he is grateful for that.

So for the rest of the day he wonders about the kind of atmosphere that will await him once he sets foot inside Steve and Connie’s apartment. He knows them together and separately, and he vaguely knows you, but he has no clue what to expect from being under the same roof as the three of you. And frankly, he’s not really sure what to expect out of you, either. Probably just—the unexpected. He’s had a basic, mere taste of what you are like and you seem like a lot to handle. Combined with Steve’s obsessive need to be protective over you?

Yeah, tonight should be fun as hell.

He buys a bottle of white wine regardless and rings the door at the freshly renovated apartment at 7:07 p.m. Steve opens the door, smiling rather cordially than out of friendliness, so Javier’s eyes shot straight to Olivia cooing in his arms.

“Fair warning, Connie’s all wired because of tonight,” he mutters. “So if you hear some sharp commands… don’t question it.”

“It’s just a housewarming dinner.”

“Yeah… I wouldn’t tell that to her. Come on in.”

Javier stifles a mocking sound, so he playfully pinches Olivia’s little elbow instead, to which she giggles and hides in Steve’s shoulder.

“See? All the girls are into you,” Steve jokes.

“Come on, Murphy.”

“Just kidding!”

The smell of warm food swathes Javier, more so when he walks into the kitchen, cautiously looking around so as to not startle Connie. He notices her by the counter, frantically stirring something that looks like a salad.

“Smells delicious, Con.”

She turns almost violently fast, her face lighting up when she meets Javier’s benevolent face. Then she goes in for a hug, her eyes landing on the bottle of wine in his large hand.

“I’m so glad you made it!” she smiles. “And whoa, that is quite an expensive bottle of wine, isn’t it?”

“Uh—medium.”

“I hope lasagna is okay. Homemade from scratch—“

“Connie, relax. It smells delicious, and I bet it’ll be even more delicious.”

Connie’s smile widens and Javier can easily read relief on her face. “By the way, you know Steve’s sister is coming too, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Steve told me. Looking forward to the family dynamic you guys got going on. Sure that’ll be fun.”

Connie snorts. “Well. The Murphy siblings are quite something, let me tell you that. Their relationship has been rocky for years, since she went out to college, but Steve’s been trying to reconnect, and I think tonight can be a good step forward.”

“Kind of feels like I’m intruding then.”

“Don’t worry about it. You know we consider you part of our family. You’re Olivia’s uncle.”

“Well I’m his aunt, and I’m not sure I’m into whatever vibe’s been pushed onto the two of us then.”

Both Javier and Connie turn towards you, each smiling in your direction, though you sense warmth and love from your sister-in-law and nothing but mere politeness from Javier. Which makes sense, given how you’re practically strangers and you seem to have nothing in common.

“Hi,” you smile at him, too wide for Javier’s own taste.

“Hola señorita,” he nods.

You can’t help the sound that leaves your throat, a rather mocking sound. “Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“The thing where you greet me with your ‘come and get it’ voice, all sultry and in Spanish too. Do you greet all the ladies like that?”

Javier frowns. “I don’t have a ‘come and get’—what?”

But then he hears Connie’s stifled chuckle and he redirects his frown towards her.

“You do kind of have that voice that’s meant to be… persuasive with the ladies.”

“I don’t—shut up.”

He places the wine bottle on the countertop then settles in the living room. Not a moment too late, Steve makes his appearance, crashing on the couch next to him.

“Alright, Olivia should be down for a couple of hours at least, but that remains to be seen,” he jokes.

“Your sister’s a real tough nut.”

“You ain’t gotta tell me. What she do?”

“Said I have a ‘come and get it’ voice.”

Steve lets out a hearty laugh, a sound Javier hasn’t heard before. Though he doesn’t reciprocate and merely frowns in his friend’s direction, he can’t help but appreciate seeing him happy. Even if it is at Javier’s expense.

“You do,” Steve agrees after a while. “You do have that kind of voice.”

“How the hell would you know?”

“Jav, I’ve seen you at work countless times. Even walked in on you once while you and Helena were—“

“Don’t bring that up again.”

“Sorry. But why are you pouting about this anyway? Never seen you react like this cause of somethin’ a girl said. A girl like my sister, no less.”

Javier remains quiet. Why did he pout and walk away while you and Connie remained engaged in conversation in the kitchen? It is unlike him, Steve got that right; he’d never feel in any way, shape or form small because of a woman, and even if he could be hurt by a woman, he wouldn’t let it show. Not that it is a conscious choice, but rather another bizarre coping mechanism of his.

Yet it seems that you calling him out on his polite manner of greeting is causing his body to react in unusual ways.

Huh.

“What are you two girls gossiping about?” your voice reaches the living room and Javier instantly stiffens, but he still gets up from the couch and helps Connie set the table, steering clear away from you.

Which you notice. Of course you notice.

“I’m not gonna bite, you know?” you address him directly.

Connie’s eyes follow the two of you intently as you stare at each other from opposite sides of the table. She doesn’t say a word; she can only steal curious glances.

“Unless you’re into that, which… mea culpa, I can get into that too,” you smile mischievously, and Javier fights off the mental image of you leaving bite marks over his neck.

Calm the fuck down, Peña. This is just the dry spell talking.

The more he looks at you, as quickly as humanly possible, and the more he listens to you, the more he acknowledges that yes, you are far from his type.

Which couldn’t be more of a great thing.

“You two sound like an old couple with all this back and forth,” Steve says, laying the lasagna tray right in the middle of the table and makes a face.

“Not sure I’d be up for that challenge. And that’s coming from me.”

“Please! You couldn’t stop talking about marrying Derek, that guy you dated when you got into college. Marrying a bad boy was like your lifelong dream.”

You chuckle, taking a seat in front of Javier as he pours you and Connie some wine.

“That was definitely not my life’s dream,” you smile. “But since you wanna spill tea about the past in front of our guest—“

“You got nothing on me.”

Your smile turns into a rather devious smirk, and Javier can’t help but notice just how well you can match your big brother’s energy, how well you are prepared to handle anything he throws at you.

Resilience. Strength. He admires that.

“Oh yeah?” you cock an eyebrow at your brother, then immediately face Javier and focus all of your attention on him. “Get this: when Steven and Connie started dating, it was all very much textbook romance. The honeymoon stage was all honey and sugar. Every song was about them, every poem was about them. Which meant, naturally, that they were going at it every chance they got, on every surface they could find.”

“Sure,” Javier nods.

“We weren’t really like that,” Connie intervenes softly.

But you raise your hand, dismissing her, and continue. “One day, I stop by Steven’s place and I notice there’s clothes everywhere. I think to myself, ‘must’ve been a wild night, good for them’ because I’m genuinely happy for my brother and I really like his new girlfriend, right? Wrong.”

“Please don’t say it,” Steve begs.

“I make my way to the kitchen, when suddenly I feel something soft and rather moist against my foot.”

“You’re saying it.”

“I look down, and I realize I stepped on a condom.”

“Was it—?”

“That’s right, Javier. I stepped on my big brother’s used condom.”

Javier does everything in his power to not laugh, so he munches on a big piece of lasagna and salad. He washes it all down with a sip of wine, noticing Connie hiding her face in her palms and Steve rubbing his temples and staring into the distance.

“What did I do to you that you had to tell that story?!” Steve exclaims.

“You laughed at my lifelong dream. Which by the way, does not revolve around marriage. And certainly not marrying a bad boy or anything related to that. No offense, Javier.”

“None taken till… just now.”

“Is this about the stupid Star Wars disagreement again?”

Javier’s frown deepens, looking at Connie for some sort of information, yet nothing is readable on her face except an expression that resembles a big “oh shit”.

“’Disagreement’?” you repeat incredulously.

“You guys fought over Star Wars?” Javier surprises himself asking out loud.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says.

“I used to write fanfiction, specifically for Star Wars,” you clarify, your tone bitter now. “That’s how I got started with writing. I love books and reading and… I love writing. That’s why I work at the library.”

“A lot of people get their start through fanfiction, I think it’s great,” Connie adds in what feels like a futile attempt to dissolve some of the tension.

But it’s increasingly clear that the relationship between you and Steve carries more than tension from some silly arguments and some bickering. It runs deeper than what he imagined on his way here, and suddenly he feels guilty for being in the middle.

“I still don’t see the point of it, I’m sorry,” Steve mutters.

“Of course you don’t.”

“Steve.”

“No, I really don’t mean to insult or hurt you, you know that. It’s just… to me, I’m just wondering what the point in writing for a story that���s already been written is?”

You feel anger bubbling at the surface, barely protruding your skin, and yet it simmers dangerously close to your breaking point. You do not want to make a scene, not at this housewarming dinner that Connie worked hard to organize, and not in front of someone who’s practically a stranger.

“The point is creativity, expressing your own thoughts and emotions through words,” you say through clenched teeth. “Even if it is an existing story. You can build within it so that it remains unique and faithful to the material.”

“I’m not the bad guy here, sis. I swear I’m not trying to—“

“It’s not about what you’re trying to do, it’s about what you are doing. And you’re being a dick right now. Excuse me.”

You take a large sip of wine on your way out of the living room, hoping nobody follows you in your pursuit to the bathroom. Yet somehow you end up in a bedroom, presumably Steve and Connie’s judging by the framed picture of them and Olivia on the nightstand. You exhale loudly, closing your eyes and taking a moment to yourself.

You know Steve doesn’t want to hurt you. The opposite, really: everything he’s ever done, the reason why he always pushed so hard and pressured and became annoying was because he wanted to protect you in the first place. He loves you and wanted nothing more but to make sure you were safe. You know that.

But right now, you feel like you’re seventeen again, crying in anger, begging your family to just notice you and understand that you are not some freak for being on the quiet side, and the frustration that comes along with the sentiment is nearly debilitating.

A knock on the door startles you, and you roll your eyes. “Not in the mood, Steven. Gimme another two minutes, maybe I’ll conjure a smile then.”

“It’s Javier. Can I come in?”

You’re met with his face, poorly lit, and you nod. He reluctantly sits next to you on the bed, hands intertwined together between his legs. He’s clearly feeling a little awkward, but not too much since he followed you in here.

“You okay?” he asks.

You snort. “Do you really care?”

“I’m not a heartless monster, so… yeah, I guess. Besides the silence at the table is… a killer. Even Olivia’s more talkative. Pretty sure Connie’s laying it onto Steve right about now.”

“I pray you don’t mean physically.”

“Sure as hell hope not.”

You both chuckle, so soft and silent it could go unnoticed by the untrained ear.

“Anyway,” Javier resumes whilst clearing his throat as if what he’s about to say is painful, “I think it’s cool you wrote for Star Wars.”

“I take it you’re a fan?”

“Big time.”

“So… you don’t think my writing is a waste of time?”

“If it’s what you love to do, it never is a waste of time.”

Baffled, you turn towards him. “Watch it, Peña. I might start thinking you’re a good guy after all and so I could spend my time with you.”

“We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Definitely not. I’m avoiding you like the plague.”

Javier smiles, looking away from you. You’re witty and got a sharp tongue, but you are still not his type. Even so, you’re not that terrible to joke around with.

“I’m sure you’re a good writer though,” he says, and he’s shocked at his own honesty.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. Would you mind telling that to my brother?”

“There are few things I actually mind telling him straight to his face.”

You both laugh, just when Connie knocks on the door, eyes locked on your figure. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you exhale, and this time it’s with relief. “Shockingly, Peña calmed me down. Where’s Steven?”

“Sent him outside to cool down. Don’t let him know you guys were alone in here.”

“Why?” Javier inquires.

“I think he thinks that… well… given your tumultuous past and your well-known reputation with the ladies…”

A laughter escapes your throat, rich and sardonic. “He thinks we’re gonna fuck with the first chance we get?” you keep laughing. “Is that how little faith he has in his best friend and his flesh and blood? Motherfucker.”

Connie coos your name, though you it doesn’t really register with you.

“Also, ‘tumultuous past’, seriously? He can call it what it is. I was smoking, drinking, and hanging out with the baddest boys I could find to teach my parents and my big brother a valuable lesson. Lesson that I see has passed by all three of them.”

“Con, I made a promise to a friend. And I intend to keep it. Besides, she’s really not my type, so neither one of you has to worry.”

You shift closer to Javier. “Oh, you mean you don’t find me available and with no standards?”

“See?” Javier smiles, though evidently a little riled up. “We’re fine.”

“O-kay.”

“I should go. Thanks for dinner, Con, it was very nice. The food, cause what followed was…”

“Yeah. Let me walk you out.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see myself out.”

You watch Javier disappear out the frame, your eyes lingering in the doorway one second too long. You’re very appreciative of the way he came in to comfort you, even if he did so rather clumsily. Maybe he’s not good with words. Or maybe he’s not used to comforting women.

Not in this way, at least.

Then you feel Connie’s gaze on you, burning you alive with questions she doesn’t dare ask, and you feel defensive. “What?”

“All the teasing? Him immediately coming to check on you? Comforting you? Plus, the eyes at the table…”

“What eyes? We’re neighbors, barely acquaintances. You’re reading way into it, Connie.”

She raises her arms in defense. “I’m just saying, for a moment there it seemed like you were interested in each other.”

You tsk disapprovingly. “You heard the man, I am definitely not his type.”

“What about him? Is he your type?”

“Connie. Sweetheart. He’s the walking poster for a bad boy. Inconspicuous past, questionable morals and definitely traumatized. While this was exactly what sixteen year old me would’ve swooned over, as sexy as all of that sounds and as attractive as I’d find him, because I’d be lying if I’d say I don’t… no, thank you. Grown me is more mindful of what—or whom—she puts inside her body.”

“Look, I’m not sure what Steve told you about him, but they’re friends for a reason. Not just cause they were partners in the DEA but Javi’s a really good guy. He might’ve done some questionable things back in Colombia, but so did Steve. They did what they had to do to survive and do their jobs, and Javi is actually a very caring person. He just doesn’t like showing it often.”

You rummage through Connie’s words, breaking down each and every single one of them so as to construct a better image of the man that is Javier Peña: a good, honorable man and friend, charming devil to the ladies, but always honest and upfront despite the wall of solitude and grumpiness he puts forth.

Yep. A walking poster for bad boys.

Even worse.

A former bad boy who’s learned from his mistakes and now wants to do better.

“I understand what you’re saying, but you don’t have to sell Javier’s reputation to me. I am not interested,” you reply absentmindedly.

“Alright, suit yourself. But it’s too bad. I think this could be something great for both of you.”

Again you tsk, this time more stubbornly, and you agree to return to the living room and have another glass of wine while you think of how comforted you felt in the presence of whom you could only describe as the most attractive stranger you have ever seen.

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tags: @pedrostories @milkymoon2483 @ifall4dilfs @psychedelic-ink @casa-boiardi

[hostclubau]

By Any Other Name

This is an x reader, multi-ending, otome style story.

fem!reader

Summary: Your life is hell, and your parents abandoned you to a literal loan shark. A near death experience has changed the trajectory of things, but is this a blessing? Or an endless fall into things far worse than you had before?

Content Warnings: The host club has an After Hours that's effectively a brothel. There are BDSM themes and the exploration of a lot of kinks. Foul language, canon levels of violence, mature audiences only.

Chapter 1: Loaned Out

Your feet hit the pavement, spurring you forward through the tangle of streets. This was your city, but it was his too, and the only hope you had at this point was to either get yourself so lost he couldn’t find you, or get yourself to the nearest Marine Station.

Frankly, you’d almost rather take your chances with the fish-man. Marines were next to useless as far as you were concerned, and the only use they had was that most people wouldn’t shoot you in front of one.

You weren’t entirely sure if Arlong was most people or not.

Leaping over some boxes in a back alley, you turned in mid-air and darted down a different alley when you landed. Running errands for that stupid shark had at least paid off in the sense that you were capable of running for a lot longer than most people.

When you were strictly forbidden from fighting, it was a life or death skill to have.

You might be trying to dodge Arlong until his temper cooled now, but more often than that you were running from his competitors, the marines, and people who knew you worked for him. They were all idiots, and not because you could slip away from them easily, but because hurting you wasn’t going to do anything.

Arlong was more likely to throw your body in the river if you got your ass beat, than he was to see you patched up after. Probably grumbling the entire time about how much money you were costing him yet again.

Fucking loan shark.

Slowing down you take a look around and realize you’re in a part of town you don’t know well. It looked like it was almost central downtown, which was well outside Arlong’s turf. It also meant that whoever was in charge of this area was probably not going to be friendly to you.

Arlong always said that downtown was more trouble than it was worth. He didn’t trade loans with people who lived or worked around here, and he didn’t offer protection for any of the businesses. You usually avoided the area too, even if a delivery would be a little faster, but only because the city’s main Marine Office was here.

Well, looking out for marines was easy enough, especially if you stayed off the main street. Alleys were alleys no matter what city or island, so it didn’t really matter to you. Slipping back into the narrower paths you meandered through the back lines of downtown.

You’d took off from Arlong’s threats just after lunch, and with the sun lower in the sky it was probably closer to seven or eight. You might be able to find a street vendor and get something greasy and filling for dinner, and then sleep somewhere out of sight. Tomorrow he’ll be calm again, or calm enough, and you can deal with him then.

The blow to your face was a surprise.

You put your arm up as you stumble backward, nearly tripping over your feet. The punch had drove your cheek into your teeth, and you could already taste copper as you lean against the far brick wall and look up to see Arlong.

“Got tired of trying to catch you when you’re bad.” He snarls, holding up his snail box and showing you the tracker app that was running on it. “Technology’s a real bitch.”

“I completed the job,” you reply, struggling to speak clearly as your cheek’s already swelling. “I don’t get why you’re pi-.” You stop yourself. “Upset. Boss.”

“The job,” he says, breathing in and giving you a terrifying grin. “Was for you to deliver the package without being seen.”

Your stomach knots. If he’s mad, and that’s why, then someone or something clocked you. Otherwise he wouldn’t waste his energy being pissy.

“… What saw me?” You question carefully.

His brows raise. “Oh? Not going to argue huh? Finally wising the fuck up.” He straightens, tapping his snail box again until he brings up a still picture of you. It’s grainy, but the sequence of images show you dropping off the box and walking away.

It was pretty obvious it was you, but only because you and Arlong knew what you looked like. There wasn’t a shot of your face, and you weren’t wearing anything to mark you as a part of anyone’s crew. It’s a struggle to keep your expression neutral, but smart mouthing back at him right now wouldn’t help you.

“… Sorry.” You settle on the simple apology over any kind of argument. It doesn’t matter how grainy it is. It doesn’t matter that your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. All that mattered was that he didn’t want anyone to see you, and you were seen. You’d been dealing with him enough years at this point to know anything more would be an excuse.

You weren’t going to grovel, however, because there was nothing useful on those stills.

“Sorry?” He prompts and grunts something akin to a laugh. “Sorry might’ve worked before you ran through downtown to avoid me, little runt.”

At nearly seven feet tall, Arlong towers over you, and his large hand gathers most of your shirt at once, as he lifts you easily and shoves you harshly against the wall. “You’re never going to pay back what you owe as a runner.” He tilts his head, leering at you in that way he does every time he tries to convince you to do more lucrative work.

“I can tack on five grand for the inconvenience, and patch job.” He indicates your swollen check with a nod of his head. “Or we can write that off as the price of on the job training and pretty you up. Much as you humans pretty up, anyway.”

“I think I’d rather be a runner.” You grunt, the soles of your shoes scratching at the brick as you struggle to find leverage.

Your father, seas take him screaming, got into debt with Arlong when you were a kid. Dear sweet dad worked for the fish-man for a couple years before he took your mom and bounced. Or Arlong killed them, you couldn’t really be completely sure one way or the other.

With mom and dad gone, and the debt still on Arlong’s books, you were hired.

Aside from barely giving you enough money to live on, while working you to the bone, Arlong hadn’t paid much attention to you. Until recently. Maybe you hit some magic number in age, or one of his clients took a liking to you, whatever the case, he was getting pushier and pushier about turning you into one of his Dolls.

The idea of getting paid to fuck didn’t bother you.

The idea of having 80% of your earnings stolen by Arlong, who only wanted you to change jobs so he could make more off you, bothered you.

Arlong falls silent for a while, and you can feel your stomach knot. The look on his face is never a good sign. He’s irritated and what little good humor he might have had a moment ago is evaporating at an alarming rate.

“Don’t be like that,” his voice is flat, save for a slight tone of disappointment. “Really think about it. You’ll never pay off your debt as a runner.”

Even with him taking most of your earnings to pay off your debt, you would have more income. You’d be able to save up, and even have a chance at freedom. Assuming you didn’t screw anything up.

Wait.

“… I’ll never pay off my debt regardless.” You reply just as flatly. Realization had long since dawned on you the nature of this game, but there was a sudden clarity this time. There were no more slaves, not even for the nobles, not since the dragons were slain over twenty years ago.

Arlong had found another way to go about it.

Sure, you could turn him and his bullshit in, but you took a risk that the marine you reported to wasn’t already in his pocket. If they weren’t, and the risk might be small so it could be worth trying, but you’d be going down with him too. No one would give a shit that the illegal things you did were because you felt trapped.

It would be your own fault for not turning him in sooner.

Frankly, it wasn’t a comforting prospect to think about ending up in prison where Arlong would have far more reach than you’d have protection. Even as a runner you made him money, more than he spent on keeping you alive at least. It was more job security than some folks had, so you didn’t want to complain.

“That’s no way to be.” He laments, patting the side of your face. “I’m sure you’ll get-.”

“Every year I manage to pay you forty thousand berries.” You interrupt him. You shouldn’t have, you shouldn’t be talking, you most certainly should not be talking like this. “My dad’s debt was two hundred and fifty thousand berries, and I’ve been working for you for over ten years. That’s over four hundred grand… boss.”

Arlong lets go of you, and you barely manage to keep your feet under you. He’s mad. At this point you’re going to earn yourself a lot more than a swollen cheek, and that’s probably going to cost you some random amount tacked onto your supposed debt.

You sigh, releasing your own frustration into the air. There wasn’t enough fear in you right now, just cold sure understanding, and anger.

Now that you’ve started its like the flood gates have opened, and you can’t muster the self-preservation needed to close them.

“Every couple months or so, something always seems to come up to tack more onto the debt. It doesn’t matter what the excuse is, the point is the principle hasn’t gone down in ten years.” You shrug, an incredulous, clipped laugh escaping you. “It’s never going to go down. Even if you put me in a sexy suit and let your shady clients sniff my pits, it’s still not going to go down. You’ll just charge me for the sleazy dress-hurk!”

Arlong’s hand is around your throat, and the force with which he grabs you bounces your head off the bricks. You can barely breathe, your head’s throbbing, and the bricks are scraping your back through your shirt as he lifts you up roughly against them. You could swear his eyes are glowing red he’s so angry, and you aren’t sure what it was you said.

You expected you were pissing him off, but this is more akin to rage.

“Little bitch grew a pair of balls when I wasn’t looking, huh?” He snarls, driving his fist into your side. The hooked swing sends a sharp pain through you and knocks what little air was left in your lungs out. “You think some weak little cumshot can talk to me like that? Gonna stand there and tell me I’m charging you unfairly, yeah?”

He loosens his grip for a second and you suck in a pained breath. You know you should be using the precious oxygen to beg for forgiveness, but maybe this was it. The limit of what you could take. You’d been running for hours, and you were hungry enough you just didn’t care.

“Gonna… really… try an’… say you… aren’t?” You manage to choke out the words, but there’s spots on the sides of your vision and your lungs are pitching a fit again. Blacking out might be the last thing you ever do, and a small part of you wanted to succumb to it. Just be done and over with it all.

What would tomorrow bring anyway?

“You fuckin-.”

“Arlong.” A woman’s voice reaches you both and you see Arlong’s eyes widen before he looks away from you. “Don’t murder someone by my club.”

The words are enough for him to release you. This time you can’t keep your feet under you and crumple onto the ground. Gasping and coughing, it takes you a moment to recover, and both the mystery voice and Arlong seem okay with giving you that time.

You get yourself set up against the wall, opting to stay down on the ground rather than try to stand, and look around enough to see the most elegant woman you’ve ever seen standing on a raised platform. It looked like the back exit to a business, a smaller man door with the words ‘Employees Only’ stenciled across it.

It was only maybe four or fives steps up from where you and Arlong were, but she looked like she was untouchable from that far up.

A puff of smoke leaves her lips and your brain catches up enough to see the long cigarette between her fingers. The edges of her bob hair cut curl up, framing her face perfectly. She’s tall, slender, and dressed casually, but you’re left with the distinct impression she could salt and burn the ground Arlong was standing on.

And he knew it.

“I’ll buy her debt.” She states, taking a slow drag on the cigarette.

“What?” Arlong almost growls the word.

She exhales. “You said so yourself. She’s got balls.” The grin on her face is comforting, but you can’t shake the strange feeling that two demons are currently haggling over who will own your soul. “I like that.”

“You don’t even know how much it is, Shakuyaku.” He grumbles.

She laughs. “You think that matters? Leave her here, Arlong. Come by tomorrow in the morning with your books, and we’ll settle the balance.”

You notice Arlong’s fist tighten, but the angel on the balcony doesn’t seem to be bothered by it. He glares down at you for a second, but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even mouth anything as far as you can tell.

Not that he’s in a position to try and force you to turn down whatever’s being offered.

From one taskmaster to another, as far as you were concerned. The angel on the balcony only had your attention for the moment because she probably saved your life.

“You can call me Shakky,” she begins, pausing to take another drag before letting the smoke out in a slow exhale. At the very least she was more relaxing to be around than Arlong. “Can you stand?”

The question catches you off guard, and you blink dumbly a couple times before you reply. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Alright. If you get dizzy, sit back down.” She commands, taking out a snail box. She’s not watching you, but at the same time she is. Using the wall you get to your feet, but your head swims and so you just let yourself sit back down.

“I’m out back, we have a patient too dizzy to walk on her own.” She speaks in the same even and relaxed tone she’s been using from the start. You didn’t think your situation was anything to get excited about, but you wondered idly if she was ever anything other than calm. “Tell Blackleg I expect his best meal.”

She hangs up, tucking the box away and returns her focus to her cigarette. There’s silence between you that doesn’t feel heavy or awkward, but you also don’t really know where you stand. With Arlong you’d simply stay there quietly until someone came along.

Honestly, with Arlong, you’d be trying to walk no matter how dizzy you felt.

“What happens now?” You hazard the question. It’s safe enough, and you need to understand how this lady operates.

Shakky lets out another slow line of smoke and offers up a warm smile. “Our head doctor’s going to tend to you. The shift’s lead chef is going to make you something to eat, and depending on the doctor’s orders you’ll probably go to bed after that in one of the guest rooms.”

She stubs the cigarette on the railing as the door behind her opens up. A tall man steps out, and looks over at you before heading down the steps. His dusty blonde hair is pulled back into the ponytail, and he’s wearing a button up dress-shirt and slacks. There’s a noticeable scar on his forehead over his eye, but it looks like it was stitched well.

He frowns once he gets a decent look at you. “Any loose teeth?” He questions, and after you probe with your tongue you shake your head. “Feel like you’re going to vomit?”

“Not right now.”

The frown twitches into more of a smile. “Injuries anywhere I can’t see?”

“Mm.. M’back, probably.” You mutter. “Hit the bricks more’n once.”

“I’m going to shine a light in your eyes,” he explains, pulling out a small pen light, and checking your pupil’s reaction to it a couple times on each eye. He hands you a thermometer. “Under your tongue, however you can without it hurting.” He says, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead briefly.

“You should be good, but that’ll give me a more accurate reading. May I have your hand? I want to check your pulse.”

After a second’s pause you hold your hand out. He gives you thanks and then presses his fingers against your wrist for a moment, going quiet as he concentrates on his counting. Once he’s done he pulls the thermometer out and checks it.

“Nothing concerning enough to warrant the hospital.” He turns toward Shakky. “I’d like Law to scan her,” he stops and turns back to you. “If you’re okay with that. It’s a devil fruit ability, but it won’t do anything to you. It’ll just let Law know if something’s wrong that I can’t see.”

“Uh… sure?”

“Alright. I’ll get him after we get you inside and settled.” He offers you a warm smile. “My manners are awful, young miss. My name’s Hongo, if you’re not against it, it would be my pleasure to carry you inside, since you’re not feeling well.”

“I, um, I…” You stop, pressing your lips together and look over at Shakky. She’s smiling, and you can’t tell if she’s giving you permission or not, but there’s no signs of irritation on her face at all. Turning back to Hongo, you consider asking him to just give you a hand walking, but he’s a good bit taller than you.

It’s probably easier for him to just carry you. It’s not what he’s offering that has thrown you, honestly, it’s the way he offered it.

“Sure.” You aren’t sure what you expect, and accept the little medical bag he hands you before he scoops you up like some damsel in distress. Being treated kindly was wild enough, but to be carried like you weren’t just a sack of potatoes was… different.

You didn’t want to get used to it. Good things were always just a veneer. Something pretty to hide all the shit underneath no one wanted you to see. If nothing else, you had to give credit to Arlong for being ugly right up front.

But if these two wanted to feed you and let you sleep somewhere nice for a couple days, you weren’t going to say no.

[frownyalfred]

*busts down your doors* HEY! Long ask for ya

okay so I was rereading your fic where EMS showed up because Dick couldn’t flip on the trampoline (rip) and it got me thinking about routine trauma.

So here’s the thing: I am not EMS. I know three people who are EMS, but my extent of EMS experience comes from one (1) ride along and lurking on EMS subreddits. Those guys are a hoot. Great memes. Anyways.

A comment stuck out to me: “You haven’t truly lived the job until you’re eating a gas station burrito next to a dead body”. I’ve seen a bunch like that. Nonchalance and dark humor because well, that’s their job. Gore is the norm. Sure, depending on the area, your usual calls might just be lift assists, but other areas are neck deep in gang violence and violent crime.

A pretty common post on that subreddit is also, sadly, “I just got a call that’s never bothered me before but all of a sudden I’m broken” or “I’ve never had a problem running this type of call before but all of a sudden it just hit me.” Delayed trauma is a bitch. Someone pointed out that if a civilian saw a fatal car accident with multiple corpses, they’d be in therapy and given support and it’d be a huge deal. With EMS, they’re just expected to deal with it. (EMS mental health is getting better- there are helplines and resources and first responder focused therapies- but it’s still a developing field)

ANYWAYS, now that I’ve given you a crash course on the EMS mental health crisis (someone should really write a feature on EMS in Gotham those fuckers would be crazy and I love them already), my point is, how would this apply to the bats? Seeing bodies is treated as very much the norm to them, but do you think it ever just… catches up? The impact of seeing corpses day after day? Do you think they have to fake being fine and tough during those times because well, “everybody else in the family is fine with it, I’m not going to be a liability/burden/weak/etc”

Do you think Bruce, the goddamn batman, who shouldn’t be ruffled by anything, ever just feels something crack inside when he looks at a little boy who could have grown up healthy and strong like his Jason, had (Bruce) someone been there for him? and then he can’t work cases with kids for a week?

This is such an excellent ask, thank you so much for gracing my inbox with it!

It's a very good question. I'm also on a lot of those subreddits (needed to do some research for that fic) and the discussion in those forums and on TikTok is like you described, a kind of practiced desensitization to all gore and suffering in order to survive in their job.

What I've seen from those discussions (and my EMT friend) is an almost sub-conscious trend where they allow themselves the "thing" that breaks them, and they push a lot of that trauma and emotion onto that thing. Like an EMT saying they don't do kids, or they don't do gunshots to the eye, etc. And they'll sob like a baby on those calls, while remaining stone-faced and level-headed through the triple homicide.

I'm just theorizing here, but I imagine the Batfamily uses similar coping skills -- pushing all that trauma and suffering into a box which cracks only under limited, defined circumstances. And they break or snap only under those conditions, because, subconsciously, they allowed themselves to.

So yes, Bruce might be 99% fine with most of the bodies he sees, but there might be a little boy who has a detail (like Jason's dark hair) that just slams into him out of nowhere.

PTSD and trauma literally change the structure of the brain. Individuals react differently to trauma after that, but there does appear to be a "desensitizing" effect with repeated trauma, as the body tries to compensate.

I agree that the Gotham EMTs must be some crazy motherfuckers. They probably deal with 6x the normal shit EMTs deal with in other cities. They probably take on a lot more trauma and burn out quicker than other EMTs, too.

Anyone else have thoughts on this? I admit I don't cover PTSD explicitly in a lot of my fics.

[wuxiaphoenix]

Worldbuilding: Collapsing Empires

One of our classic stories is the band of Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire. I will boldly go on record as saying I love these stories. Who doesn’t want to cheer on the rag-tag determined heroes fighting against overwhelming odds? (See Star Wars, The Last Starfighter, The Magnificent Seven, and so many others.)

On the other hand I also read history, and so there’s something I’ve noticed. While the urge to create an empire seems to be a human constant, individual empires always fall. Eventually.

I’m sure there are many reasons for this. I’ll give you a few I’ve noticed; you can probably suggest more. The three I’ve got are environmental shifts, out of context problems, and the elite desire to stay in power at all costs.

Each of these can, of course, feed into the others. Here’s a few examples.

Environmental shifts are nasty. Some are from human land use - deforestation and gold or lead mining do numbers on large areas - but others are just the solar system giving you a Bad Era. To be very general, our climate tends to alternate between periods of warmer and more predictable weather, and cooler, less predictable weather patterns. (You can in fact have a scorching drought or a dozen in an Ice Age. It’s just on average cooler.)

Empires tend to get started and grow during the good times, to the point they’re right on the edges of their ecological limits as to how many people can make a living without starving. And then a bad spot hits. And things go sideways. As they say of bankruptcies, first slowly, then all at once. Famines usually start in some spots, and the empire handles it, getting ever more stressed - and then worse weather sparks floods and mudslides, and out of that ecological havoc you tend to get plagues, and between plague and famine you can’t feed or levy enough troops.... And then law and empires collapse as everyone scrambles madly to survive and people who were on the empire’s borders try to make out like a bandit. Pun fully intentional.

A “sudden” (usually over decades) climate change might be considered an out of context problem... but I had more direct and weirder things in mind. At one point, for example, we had archaeological evidence that the Luwian Kingdom might have been wiped out by a comet strike. Current archaeology thinks not, but the scenario still remains possible for fiction. Not to mention the scholarly wrangling over what really happened to Sodom and Gomorrah. It looks like the real-life cities were on a very oil-rich plain. So theoretically, if a meteor shower came down and punched a few holes....

But you don’t have to look to outer space. Cortez and other conquistadores showed up from across the Atlantic with a deep history of warfare that was an extremely out of context problem for the Aztecs, Incas, and many more. (Yes, diseases played a big role. But historically the conquistadores legit beat local armed forces high, wide, and handsome.) Joseon Korea and Tokugawa Japan had similar problems with the rest of the world. Anna and the King is a fictionalized version of the King of Siam trying to ease his kingdom into a soft landing in the modern world. I can only imagine the battles he must have had with his court over that.

Which leads to the third reason I see empires fall. If a ruler wants to keep ruling, and doesn’t trust his people, he has to make sure no one else is strong enough to oppose him. But keeping everyone too weak to fight you means that sooner or later, they’re too weak and corrupt to fight someone else.

And on the edges of an empire, there is always Someone Else.

Side note: This is one of many reasons I think a republic is the best government to create and maintain a nation. Ideally we have people in power getting overthrown all the time. We just do it on an agreed-upon regular basis. Unfortunately that was also supposed to apply to all bureaucracy....

Anyway. If you’re writing Plucky Rebels against the Evil Empire, go for it! But you might want to also poke some history and see if any of these real-world factors apply. Smart rebels take advantage of an existing crisis! Just ask Li Zicheng.

Though note what happened to him....

[crabussy]

Hi robin hope you're doing good!! Are there any places to see or things to do you'd recommend for someone visiting Aotearoa for the first time?

hi its actually francis but I'm just as (if not more but don't tell him I said that hehehe) fanatic about aotearoa!!! I'm happy to help out. I'm gonna write a bit and leave this in drafts and then rob can finish it off cause its reaaaally late!! eek!! I gotta sleep because there's hiking happening tomorrow!

waitomo glowworm caves are great but ACTUALLY!!! I DON'T RECOMMEND THE SUPER FAMOUS ONE!!!! it's nice but it's not so long and the photos you see online are usually better than the experience you get. try out ruakuri caves in waitomo instead!! they're pretty much right next to the most popular caves, but they're longer, deeper, contain more interesting formations AND glow worms as well!! not as many as the main one. it depends on what you're looking for!!! there's a SUPER COOL motel called woodlyn park where you can stay in an old boat, an old tram, an old plane or a hobbit house that have all been converted into rooms. it's really cool!! might be a bit costly though

SWIM SOMEWHERE IF YOU CAN!!!! a river, an estuary, a beach. check water quality first!! beaches are probably your best bet! one of my favourite things in the world to do is swim at the beaches in aotearoa. I have yet to see a beach that makes me happier than the ones here!

some REALLY COOL TOWNS include rotorua (super stinky geothermal hotspot!!! so cool!!!!! bright green lakes!!!) and ahuriri (art deco town!! they actually hold a 1920s inspired festival there yearly if I'm remembering right!), <- francis went to bed at this point HI its robin now. what the freak is up guess I'm writing the rest of this post. also I'm DEFINITELY the bigger fanatic don't listen to her. liar liar pants on fire etc

UM!!! DEFINITELY hike/do a day walk if you can. I fucking LOVE hiking here it's always beautiful. in te ika-a-māui (north island) I really enjoy the waitākere ranges, there's currently a rāhui for some areas but I went hiking last weekend and the trail I went on was really lovely. there are quite a few to choose from!! I went along exhibition drive and the beveridge track, entering from titirangi village.

we're well known for our native birds, but as many of them are endangered you might have trouble seeing many of them. I'd recommend tiritiri matangi, an amazing conservation island off the shore of tāmaki makaurau. it can be pricey to visit but the sheer number of birds to be seen there is wonderful!!! you can even see takahē, as well as kiwi at night. the cost of the ticket goes towards the conservation being done on the island.

if you have a chance to experience a kapa haka performance or attend a māori festival GO. GO GO GO. it's always incredible, the power and just. joyous fierce pride people put into the waiata and haka is amazing. if you go around june-july, you'll be there for matariki celebrations!!! experience them. there'll be lots of events happening in major cities like tāmaki makaurau and pōneke.

if you're up for a bit of camping, motutara farm is an absolute gem. it's in whananaki, and needs to be booked WAY in advance but my god its marvelous. the beach is wonderful the rockpools are fascinating the walks are incredible and the camping sites are so lovely. you will have to deal with long drops.

genuinely, and I'm so serious, if you end up in the north island LET ME KNOW!!!! I love meeting up with people and if you end up in the city I live in, I'd love to show you around!!! there's a walk I really love in my town that I'd be happy to take you on.

there's so much more but these are my (and francis's) top picks!!!! I love these islands so much. there's so much to be experienced. I WILL ALSO SAY!!! the public transport is very good. you can mostly rely on it especially in cities.

[noroi1000]

"Gomen'nasai" chapter 02

Gomen'nasai | ←Previous chapter • Next chapter→

Summary:Gojo looking for you.It was his lucky day because he found you right away.

"Where should I stop?" the assistant asked, looking in the mirror to see the face of White Hair in the backseat. 

"She's not home, so let's check out the city. It's not much, so just stop somewhere and I'll look for her. And I'll bring her to the car." He replied, looking at the phone for a moment. 

Either you go with him of your own free will or he will have to knock you unconscious and bring you to the car. 

He wanted to complete this mission very quickly. He didn't feel like doing more work...

Stopping by the supermarket, Gojo threw some banknotes to the assistant, asking him to buy him coffee and something to eat there. He was to spend everything that he had given him. All so that he can eat it as his meal, because being here in the evening he missed dinner. 

And he himself started looking.

His blindfold attracted a lot of attention, so he put on glasses. He didn't want you to see him and recognize him right away. 

It would only make his job harder. 

There weren't many people on the sidewalks. And the lights of the shops around the square where he stood nicely illuminated the area. A small but charming town. 

He was thinking about looking for you in the shops or at the bar. You had to be here somewhere, because this is the only place you could be right now. Apparently you don't emit a lot of cursed energy, but even a small amount will be easy for him to sense. 

If he weren't him, he would be looking for a woman with a bandage on her hand. But it was clearly written that your pollen accelerates the healing of your wounds, leaving no scars. That's why you might as well not have had any wounds. 

He's never seen a curse user repent. Nor anyone who, after the victim's death, cries and cuts his skin as if he wanted to commit suicide.

Maybe your life wasn't completely bad as your superiors say? 

With his hands in his unbuttoned uniform, and also he unbuttoned the top button of the black shirt he was wearing to rid of the unbearable heat. 

This evening was a pain. It was stuffy and hot. There's probably a storm brewing. 

"Ugh... It's a pain in ass..."

He wiped his forehead and eye, and when he looked to the side later, he felt like he was lucky today. 

He expected to walk for hours to find you. However, you were there now. It was probably you. (h/c) hair. Yes, it's you. The features of the choice that he remembers are even the same. 

And for some reason you looked better in person than in the photos. More lively. Quite nice. 

It was time to activate his attention mode. Establish a good relationship with you and complete the mission. 

He started walking towards you.

"Hey! I didn't expect that in a nice city someone wouldn't smile!" He exclaimed with a smile. 

Maybe it was just his game, but he had to admit that you looked quite innocent and cute. Not like in the photos. Well, he thinks it's cute...

You turned to see if he was talking to someone behind you.

Nobody was there. 

"I'm talking to you!" he waved at you with a kind smile. 

You were his mission. But he had to gain some of your trust first. 

"I was looking for someone who could show me around. I wanted to take a break after a hard day, but I don't know a good place." 

Crap, to was a bad idea. There are so many people around here and he chooses you? It's a bit strange and suspicious. 

But you didn't make any aggressive move. You don't consider him an enemy. 

"Did you come to the festival? That's that way." You pointed to the lit sidewalk behind him. 

"Festival? Oh, is that why there are so few people here? Did everyone go there?"

He didn't want to play the fool. But he could be himself. Maybe he won't have to kidnap you to take you to your death?

"The festival is there. Sorry, I have to go." You said calmly and started to walk away. 

He grabbed your hand quickly and stopped you. 

"I'm not here for the festival. Why is a girl like you alone? Something happened?"

"I-."

"Maybe we can go to a bar and talk to get to know each other? My name is Satoru. Yours?" He shook your hand. 

You looked up at his very tall stature. 

Why is someone like him here talking to you?

He is a little weird but nice. 

"(y/n)." you replied. "I have to-."

"Why doesn't a pretty girl want to meet me? I want to be nice and talk!" He gave you a smile. 

Unfortunately, he had to play.

You were just his mission. 

You turned your head and he saw the small blush you hid.

Were you a shy type of person?

Oh, you're probably a quiet person. Maybe like Megumi? You were certainly nicer than him...

"I invite you. We can talk." He put his arm around you and pulled you towards the bar. 

He quickly pulled you inside and sat you down at the wooden counter, ordering what you wanted and a coke and ice for him. 

As soon as you knew he didn't drink, you wanted to take back your order, but he stopped you.

"So what is the city like through the eyes of someone who lives here? I see it's quite nice here." He said, taking off the top of his uniform, wearing his shirt. 

"...It's a small town. Most people here know each other. That's why there is a friendly atmosphere."

When the bartender handed you your drink, he gave you a strange look and you stared at the counter without another word. 

It was true. Many people know each other here. So they definitely know you and your skills too. Maybe that's why you're alone? 

„Witches” are often considered weird...

"What a sad face. Cheer up!" he said cheerfully, handing you your glass and taking his glass, making a small toast. 

Thanks to the small sip of alcohol you took, you felt a little braver to ask about what you had been thinking about. 

"Do you have any business for me? You were heading straight for me when you saw me." You said calmly. 

He felt no hostility from you at all. You just sat there quietly. 

This surprised him. But you didn't really know him. You couldn't feel his energy. Even though his infinity was on standby just in case, he didn't feel the need to turn it on just yet. For now, you were just at the bar with him. 

"What case? Do I have to have some business to want to meet you?" he asked, resting his chin on his hand. 

"You do not know who I am?" 

"You are (y/n). A pretty girl I want to meet!"

Your eyes widened slightly as he gave you a smile. 

You are not a murderer worth killing immediately. He can meet you, right? He didn't want to go home and deal with boring things just yet. 

"It doesn't matter who you are in this place. I guess what matters is who you really are. What would you like to talk about to get to know each other better??" He asked, leaning slightly closer to you. 

Called a witch by the locals, you had no social life. People came from all over Japan to see you for something. It was all for you to use the technique. 

Is it possible that this man doesn't know your reputation and really wants to get to know you?

It hurts me to say this, but yes. Gojo plays nice here (for now). He just wanted to finish the mission and get rid of another curse user who threatens people. He's just pretending to be nice because he was going to use his appearance to drag you unconscious to his car and bring you to your death. I regret that I did something a little bad, but that's what the plot requires of me 🫡🤐 Thank you for reading 💕

[lilolilyr]

I have an idea for an Andromaquynh modern AU fanfic

In it, Quynh moves back home to her parents after getting a degree at university she isn't really sure she can or wants to use. She used to think that she's a city girl despising the suburbs she grew up in, but now she thinks she was wrong about that or maybe her preferences changed, she doesn't much like the cities she studied in anymore, first she thinks it's because she studied abroad (in the countries of her ancestors) and could never quite connect to the culture there, but visiting a friend in a city in her home country shows her it isn't just that, she just prefers a quieter environment

In the meantime, her parents have moved to a different part of town and it doesn't really feel like coming home at all. Quynh still struggles with her place in life, she doesn't want to hang around on her parents' couch doing nothing forever but she doesn't know what else to do either and the thought of a regular 9-5 job in an office terrifies her, she has done enough internships in that kind of environment to know she can't stand it for long

Quynh starts taking long walks through the countryside, for her health because she hasn't really found any sports/active hobbies in the area yet (that's an aspect she really liked about the cities, there's always something interesting going on, she used to dance and try out things like shooting with bow&arrow and axe throwing), and to have quiet time to think away from her family. That way she gets to know the area quite well - she actually already knows it a bit because she really didn't live far away as a kid, but she never really walked through the fields on this side of the suburbs before

On her walks she sometimes comes across equestrians, and one time a horse throws off its rider and she ends up catching the animal, which doesn't seem to mind people in general just people trying to climb and sit on it - it won't stay the last time she comes across that particular animal, and she thinks she understands the horse quite well what with not wanting to do jobs they don't like just to be allowed to live comfortably.

Andy's the owner of the horse riding school, and when a girl falls off her horse (probably the one that doesn't much like its riders, Quynh calls it Big Guy lovingly not knowing what it's actually called) and needs medical attention, Quynh ends up taking the horse back to the stables and meets Andy there.

There's a bit of an age-gap between them and even once they meet and fall in love Andy is reluctant to commit to Quynh out of fear of tying Quynh to a life she might not really want, meanwhile Quynh is finally figuring out her place in life and she wants to stay with Andy.

I'll probably never write the full fanfic, I just don't have the time and motivation for it. If anyone's interested in getting the draft and adopting it, I'd love to hand it over for you to write it!

Post is okay to reblog :)

The draft I have is pretty much in bullet points atm, but I'd even go over it and clean it up a bit if someone's really interested in adopting the fic, and I'd be open to either chatting about it and giving more input, or you taking it and doing your own thing with it!

I don't have the time to write a longfic atm and I feel like what with the plot I'm thinking of, it really needs to be 10 or even 20k minimum to start doing it justice... That being said if sb wants to try writing a shorter version or is inspired by it to write anything similar, absolutely feel free! Just pls lmk once it's done so I can read it :D

I also already wrote a college AU horse girl!Andy longfic before, and while that one was happier and this one would probably have quite some angsty vibes before reaching its happy ending, it still kind of feels like I've done this before, also reducing my motivation for it even more :( which is a pity really because I do really like the idea.

If you want to take on the story reply to this or send me an ask/dm and we can figure out how to do this, discord/email/docs or whatever :)

My tog tag list - I know it's been ages, if anyone wants off this list or if someone new wants on it, please let me know! -: @bobeau-beaubo @lesbianlotties (daniwouldnever) @ongreenergrasses @eyeh0rr0r @cantteachanoldguardnewquotes @badwolfkaily @andramaquynhs @depresbianintheclassicalsense @andy-the-scythian @cryhardanddanceharder @my-gaydar-is-on-point @spookyvoidangelskeleton @bookerandy @jackwolfskid @cinnamonplums @cruzwalters @kayivy @blacks-phoenix @binariesarebullshit @tea-lizzard @prevalent-masters @aftermillennia @youssefguedira (pierremichelofavignon) @salzundhonig @moonlightbuckley @genyathefirebird (rupzydaisy) @nickydestati @after-a-millennium @spacewitchqueen @damnbert @not-so-good-omen (innocent-gayngel) @rhubarbdreams-blog @bedalk

[amethystfairy1]

Hello hello I gots some questions if you don’t mind

So we know some hybrids from different sub species that are in relationships like Lizzie and Joel and doc and etho but I was wondering if there were any specific sub species that only stay with their own type of sub species? And if there is, do or would they ever give others who are from the same sub species as them a glare if they saw a person from their same sub species in a relationship with a hybrid or mutant of different sub species? Example: Joel and Lizzie, would any of the cat hybrids ever do a double take on her being married to a butterfly hybrid? (I know they probably wouldn’t but this was for the sake of an example)

Is there a number in mind for how many different types of sub species are living in the under city? Or would it be like trying to count each specific m&m in a large bowl? Is there too many sub species to count or would you use a broad number like for example 1000 to get your point across?

Are there other new types of sub species you have in mind but haven’t talked about yet? (Ignore this question if it’s a large spoiler LMAO)

Are there any other sub species that have a bad reputation? I’m aware that creeper hybrids are know to be intimidating and most avoid them (at least I’m pretty sure) but are there any hybrids or mutants that when people learn what sub species they are they immediately hate and or dislike them? If so why or how did they get such a bad reputation?

(I really hope my questions weren’t annoying I just really enjoy your work and I had some questions!))

(I also apologize if any of these questions have been asked before)

Hello, hello! I never ever mind questions, I absolutely love them! Thank you for sending them over! ☺️

Alrighty, let’s see what we’ve got! 🏃‍♀️

1. Not really, no, or at least, I never intend to explore that. I think the closest we might get are perhaps blaze-borns or warden mutants, both of whom are known for being very solitary and keeping to their own areas, not usually living in the main cavern, but I don’t think there would be any sort of dislike/unhappiness from anyone if someone of that subspecies dated/married outside of it. The under-city is big, yeah, but it’s not that big so it’s always been common practice for people to mix and match. It’s just been growing more common than ever thanks to how Doc and Etho’s work has been connecting the various levels of the city like never before!

2. I think the m&ms in a bowl allegory is the best…there’s a LOT of them, I don’t want to put any sort of number on it just for the sake of IRL reasons, which are that I do make up parts of this AU as I go along, and I’d hate to give myself some pre-determined boundary for how creative and crazy we can get with all of these hybrids/mutants…so let’s just say A LOT and leave it at that.

3. YES and that is ALL I WILL SAY 😆

4. I think ‘bad’ reputation is the wrong way of putting it. No one necessarily has an immediate hatred for another based solely on subspecies. I mean, Ren and Lizzie are friends! And they’re literally a dog and a cat! But there are other sorts of reputations that can carry with someone’s subspecies. There’s Doc, of course, who we know is a sweetheart and a gentle giant but people are afraid of him because he’s nearly seven feet tall and terrifying-looking, that’s not his fault, though…and the augmentations aren’t exactly helping. 😭 We will also be learning more about dog hybrid clans with Ren, the deep dark with Cub, and blaze-born pyres with Tango, so through that I hope to show a bit more nuance in the traits and tendencies of all these various subspecies, because it is quite a lot of fun!

They were not annoying! I PROMISE I WILL NEVER FIND QUESTIONS ANNOYING! You’re giving me an excuse to ramble about a thing that lives in my brain and forced itself out in the form of a fanfic series, I am delighted so if you ever have any more questions send another ask! I will be happy to answer! (unless it’s spoilers but then I’ll just say that) so yeah! I’ve been having so much fun with the blog and the asks and the posts and stuff! So thank you for coming by! 💖

[master-of-metal66]

I’m alive, finally I crawled out of my coffin. I have to catch up on tumblr 😅

Anyway, here we go with Xavier’s backstory. I’ll probably still work on some details, but generally that’s it, that’s my biker boy, how and why he landed in Santa Carla.

This became much longer (this one part have 5,361 words, let alone the rest) than I planned, so I split it into three parts and some random things about Marko and Xavier relationship. (Sorry for all mistakes I made. I’m not used to writing so long stuff and English isn’t my first language).  I think I made Marko a bit ooc here, let me know what you think 😖

Life on the outskirts of Tecate, one of the cities on the border between Mexico and United States sometimes wasn't easy, Xavier knew it from an early age.

Bullied by his peers, the illness of his younger sister, the loss of one of his siblings - it was a lot for a vulnerable and quiet kid like Xavier. But there was one thing that kept him together, his family has always been associated with one of the well-known motorcycle clubs in this area - the Westside Eagles.

Xavier joined the club at the age of fifteen, just like his father and brothers before him. He probably never would have done it had it not been for the death of his older brother Miquel in a shootout with a rival club. That was the hardest time in his life and had the biggest influence on him out of all his family. Back then his desire for revenge changed him from that quiet, soft kid to a cold, careless and irritable teen. While growing up, when he almost went to jail and through his entire path from prospect to full-patched club member, he saw a lot of similar and even worse situations in which people were put. He realized that revenge wouldn’t bring him relief, it only dragged him down, ruining his relationship with loved ones and the club. So he finally accepted it. 

Maybe that’s what shaped his character, the amount of experience opened his eyes. He returned to being the person he used to be, starting to prefer to solving problems with his mind rather than with unnecessary violence.

Westside Eagles was one of those ,,motorcycle clubs" that worked on the border, smuggling drugs and weapons mainly for the cartels, Xavier wasn’t always directly involved. He always had a hand in repairing things, especially cars and motorcycles. So it wasn't strange that he became a club mechanic. He enjoyed spending most of his time in peace in the car workshop on the premises of Eagles clubhouse.

That was until one time when he agreed to help his brothers - Diego and Felipe during one of the transfers. It probably saved his siblings’ lives at some point, but put him on the run because, as you might expect, not everything went well.

It was supposed to be some kind of ,,special" delivery ordered for the cartel, the Eagles usually worked for, that was supposed to be a quick job.

So it was… at first glance, entering the tunnel in an old slaughterhouse, overcoming the tunnel, it was easy. Problems began when Xavier, his brothers, and two other club members were already on the other side of the border wall. Tunnel exit was located in one of the warehouses on private property, owned by one of cartel’s associates. It was weird for the whole group that he wasn’t waiting for them as usual. Xavier was the one who discovered why. While men started to unloading crates with drugs, he went to the man's house next to the warehouse, where he found him shot, along with two other cartel members. It must have happened shortly before their arrival. Xavier knew that they were in serious trouble. He ran back, not knowing that someone was watching him.

When he returned to the warehouse and told the others about what he saw, Diego felt an impulse to open one of the crates. It was half empty. At the same moment, the whole group heard footsteps. Everything happened quickly when cops entered the building. Eagles immediately understood what had happened. Someone framed them, and the worst thing was that probably it was someone from their own club since no one on the outside knew where they kept the goods and when or where they entered the tunnel.

The shootout was inevitable, men were able to get rid of cops for now, but in the process Felipe and the prospect were shot. Xavier and Diego knew it wouldn’t end there, they heard more police sirens outside. Their only way out was to go back through the tunnel, there was no time to take the crates especially with two wounded. They had to get them out of there and get to Erasmo -the Westside Eagles president.

Return to Tecate was much longer. Now that the cops were aware of the tunnel they had to choose one of the less frequented branches of the main road. Xavier went through hell during their escape, not because of the cops chasing them and the threat of prison but because of bleeding Felipe. It reminded him of the sight of dying Miquel and he didn’t want to experience it again.

There was no time for a ,,trip’’ to the hospital, besides, they didn't need any unnecessary questions and thus further contact with the cops. As soon as they got out of the tunnel, Diego and Xavier collapsed the entrance to the tunnel giving themselves more time for escape. Although now that the police have found out about the crossings, they probably won't use them anymore.

Group returned to the clubhouse and to the only person who could help them at that moment. Ruben – a former military doctor - despite the late hour, immediately took care of Felipe and the prospect.

Xavier didn’t want to leave his brother, Felipe lost a lot of blood and there was a risk that he would need a transfusion. Xavier stayed with him, trying his best to help Ruben, while Diego and other Eagle went to Erasmo.

There was a fuss in the clubhouse, even though it was the middle of the night, clubhouse salon was boiling. Some of the club members have already heard about the whole action. Diego avoided any questions from his brothers and went straight to Erasmo. Behind the closed doors of the Westside Eagles meeting room, he told everything to the most important members of the club. The tunnel had been discovered, the goods had been seized by cops, they had a traitor in the club and in the worst case they would have DEA agents on their heads. Everyone knew it will be a tough time for the Eagles.

Meanwhile, Ruben finished dressing Felipe’s wound. Fortunately, there was no need for a transfusion, but both he and the prospect needed to rest. Xavier stayed for the rest of the night with his younger brother.

He wasn't happy when an upset Diego woke him up early in the morning a bit brutally throwing backpack at him, telling him that he had to run away. He wanted to argue but Diego forcibly dragged him out of the room, Xavier took one last look at the sleeping Felipe. He was in total shock when his brother explained to him as they ran towards the club's garages that the cartel already knows about the drug theft, they ordered to search the area of the clubhouse first, it was weird as if someone had given them the idea. The worst thing was that they found the missing part of the drugs... in Xavier’s flat above the workshop. Of course none of the club brothers believed Xavier could do it, especially Erasmo and Xavier's father. Xavier had no interest in stealing drugs, most of the time he wasn't even involved in the transfers. Besides, everyone knew that he wouldn't risk hurting anyone from his family in the process.

It was obvious to them, all this time someone’s target was Xavier and someone had framed him, but the cartel wasn't so understanding, especially considering the case of their dead members, that Xavier had found the night before.

Xavier had to run away if he didn't want to get a bullet, he was worried about Diego. It was obvious who helped him to escape, but his brother assured him that Erasmo already working on it. Diego promised him that as soon as something will clarified he would immediately contact him and also personally he will find that ,,rat" who caused all of this. Xavier had no choice but to leave the clubhouse. He have to lie low for some time, until his brother found out who was behind all of this, there wasn't much he could do with the cartel on his head. Thanks to the help of a good friend of the club, he managed to cross the border without being noticed. It was better to deal with the cops, if they were also looking for him, than with men of cartel. It so happened that this same friend had a small cabin in Santa Carla that he had bought for a vacation, but he didn't really use it, so Xavier took the opportunity. Shortly after arriving to town, he found a job in a auto repair shop. All he could do now was wait, if only he knew how his decisions would change his life.

Marko and Xavier met in a bit unusual way, soon after Mexican moved to Santa Carla.

The frequent disappearances in town must have finally attracted someone's attention, unfortunately for the Lost Boys, the attention of someone who will make their (un)lives miserable for the next few months. Because vampire hunters, especially the real ones (not some kids from a comic book store) with crossbows, tons of holy water and stakes can be a real pain in the ass.

Ever since they started showing up in town from time to time, David did his best to keep his pack safe. However, some of the rules he set for the time when hunters were hanging around town didn’t appeal much to the boys, especially Marko. Despite the fact that probably out of all pack, he had the worst luck at running across the hunters. He wasn’t happy with the idea of staying in a group all night. They spent enough time together, sometimes he had to have some time for himself. That night when Xavier and Marko’s paths crossed, the blonde vampire decided to leave Paul and hunt on his own. It wasn’t so hard to split up when his best friend blindly followed a small group of surfers they had been watching since they appeared on the boardwalk. One of them will become his meal, now Marko had to find something tasty for himself. He knew that if David found out he wouldn’t be pleased but well…curly-haired boy rarely followed the rules. It didn't take him long to notice a girl who was about to leave the boardwalk after saying goodbye to her friends. A mischievous smile appeared on his angel face. Hunger took over his body, and he didn’t even notice three pairs of eyes watching him from a distance.

Marko followed the girl for some time. That night he wasn't in the mood to play with his prey as usual. He just wanted to get back to the cave and continue working on the painting he started a few nights ago on one of the last walls of the cave free of his artworks. He hoped to get back before the rest to avoid David's complaints about paint spilled all over the place and to have more time before Caroline (my other oc – David’s mate) and Paul dragged him into some other activity, probably involving testing platinum blonde’s patience, not that he didn't like it.

The girl must have felt that someone was following her, she started to walk faster and looked over her shoulder from time to time. Marko giggled. As soon as the girl heard laughter behind her, she started to run, her choice of way was rather unfortunate. The girl strayed from the road into a more tree-lined one area in hope to lose her pursuer. Marko had her exactly where he wanted, soon they would reach the cliff. When the girl saw emptiness in front of her, she slowed down to enter a more open area, free from bushes and trees. She stopped, there was no escape route. She slowly turned around, but only silence greeted her. The only sounds were her loud breathing, sound of the wind and waves somewhere behind her. For a moment she thought she had done it, she had escaped from who whoever was chasing her. Or maybe it was just her imagination?

‘’Looking for someone?’’

The girl didn’t even have a chance to scream when Marko grabbed her and sank his teeth into her neck. She tried to struggle, but Marko's grip was too strong. She didn’t have a chance, loud sound of snapping neck was like music to Marko’s ears. Blonde vampire sighed contentedly as fresh blood reached his tongue, soon after, limp body fell to the ground. Marko licked his lips in satisfaction, that was what he needed. Getting rid of the body was easy, there was a reason he had drove the girl to this place. A loud splash and then the sound of waves crashing against the rocks, just like that, the end. Traces of blood will disappear. Marko smiled, wiping away the rest of the blood with his hand. He closed eyes and breathed refreshing sea breeze, it was one of those moments he felt kind of alive. But it didn't last long, his vampire senses warned him almost in last moment, he barely dodged an arrow that flew past by, disappearing somewhere below in the rough water. Marko turned around only to see someone he really hoped he wouldn't meet today. A man in a black jacket with cross pin with a crossbow aimed straight at blonde, vampire hissed. Hunter. In his eyes, a man or rather boy couldn't have been older than 19 years old. Good, it could have been worse. Young hunters weren't as dangerous as the more experienced ones. Blonde vampire smiled maliciously, poor thing, it will be quick.

Hunter shot again, but this time, if it wasn’t out of surprise, Marko easily caught an arrow right in front of his chest.

‘’Is that all what you’ve got?’’

Boy growled in irritation as he heard Marko’s laughter , he put away the crossbow and pulled out the stake. Seeing that, for a moment blonde vampire remind himself when he almost got staked by this little fucker from comic book shop, a shiver ran down his spine at the memory, but on the other hand his blood boiled, he saw red.

Everything happened quickly, in one moment hunter was about to strike, the next he was lying on the ground, pinned down by Marko. He didn’t stand a chance against raging vampire, his weapon brutally ripped from his hand, lying somewhere out of his reach. Young hunter screamed in pain as Marko clenched his hand on his shoulder, the sound of the collarbone cracking was delicious, blonde grabbed the boy by the throat, tightening his grip with each passing moment. He watched with vengeful satisfaction as the boy tried to catch his breath, out of the corner of his eye he saw the hunter reaches for a stone lying nearby. He swung, but Marko immediately grabbed his wrist, blonde chuckled, seeing pure terror in boy’s eyes, another scream pierced the silence of the night. He leaned forward, clenching his hand again over the broken wrist bone, the boy underneath him sobbed. He knew what was coming when Marko's fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Blonde smiled, he wasn’t expecting another snack that night.

He was about to sink his teeth into the boy's neck when a sharp pain shot through his arm, this time arrow reached its target. Marko hissed as two men ran out of the trees. Another hunters, but much more older than the one who had just passed out, lying limply beneath him. Marko stood up quickly to avoid silver knife aimed at him, the blade cut the air. Vampire cursed when he saw dagger-shaped medallions on hunters' necks.  They won't be so easy to defeat, but he didn’t want to call his brothers, he could handle it on his own. Adrenaline was flowing through his veins, he had to think about how to get rid of the hunters, separate them somehow to finish them off one by one. Marko reached for the arrow, which was stuck slightly below his shoulder, he grimaced as he grabbed the tip and pulled it out. A faint trickle of blood ran down his arm, he was lucky the tip wasn't made of silver like sometimes. The wound would be much worse to heal and it wouldn’t be easy to remove. Blonde growled in irritation as one of the hunters attacked him again while, the other knelt, checking at boy lying on the ground. He easily avoided the blow, kicking hunter in the back of the knee, sending him to the ground. However, the man quickly turned around and took a swing, silver blade missed Marko's leg by a centimeter. The second hunter joined the fight, trying to put Marko in a choke hold with his crossbow. They struggled for a while as Marko tried to break free, finally grabbed hunter by the forearms and almost without an effort threw him at his companion. Men fell to the ground with loud thud, cursing heavily. Marko smiled, came up with an idea how to get rid of hunters, once and for all.  He watched how they get up, making sure they could see the direction he would go, he ran through the trees.

Soon he found himself at an old, abandoned summer house near the cliffs, he stopped at the door and looked around. Men were after him, he heard their footsteps. Blonde was about to move when suddenly he heard the door creak. He didn't have time to react when he felt someone grab his waist and cover his mouth with a hand, pulling him into ,,abandoned'' cabin. At first he was sure that he had been captured by one of the hunters he didn't noticed, he tried to break free. Marko was about to bite his attacker's hand but a loud whisper stopped him ‘’Stop it, I won't hurt you. Be quiet or they will find us. '' Hearing this, Marko felt probably weird in this kind of situation, sense of safety. When person behind him felt that he had stopped struggling, the grip on his waist disappeared as did the hand covering his mouth. In the darkness of the room, he clearly saw a tall, long-haired man who quietly closed the door, turning the key in the lock almost at the last moment. Hunters came out from behind the trees, right in front of the house. Marko and the stranger watched through the half-covered window as the men walked around the cabin, checking the area. One of them went to the door, trying to open it, while the other to the window looking inside, Marko felt the man behind him grab his forearm and pull him back to the place where they couldn't be seen from the window. Blonde vampire tensed when the door handle suddenly stopped moving, he was sure that hunters wouldn’t give up so easily. Outside however, there was silence, until blonde heard their voices, Marko, despite the silent protest of the unknown man, went to the window, peeked outside. The hunters were still standing in front of the cabin, but in the hand of one of them there was two-way radio.

Men were talking, Marko clearly saw furious grimace on the face of one of them, he wasn't quite happy about conversation with the person on the other side of device. It didn't take long when the hunters withdrew. They ran back to the place where the young hunter, or rather his body, remained.

‘’That was close amigo.’’

Marko turned around, man was already standing behind him, looking in the direction where the hunters had disappeared. Vampire frowned dissatisfied.

‘’ I could handle it myself.’’

Man didn’t respond to this, so blonde looked out the window again, they both stayed like that, waiting. Hunters could return, but after a long time nothing has happened. Blonde vampire watched in the dark as the man walked over to the switch, turning on the light, illuminating the room. A tall, black-haired man with a slightly darker skin tone, watched him with curiosity. Marko saw fragments of tattoos stick out from under his black shirt and blue worn out vest. Blonde smirked.

‘’ Like what you see, ragazzone?’’

Curly-haired vampire smiled wider seeing the shock and then flustered expression on the man's face, he looked away but his gaze fell on Marko’s arm, he quickly became serious.

‘’ You’re hurt.’’

Marko raised his eyebrows, also looking at the same place where the hunters’ arrow had been stuck earlier. The bleeding stopped, but it still didn’t look good, he knew one nap was enough to heal. As for his jacket, sewing will take a moment. Fucking hunters, ruined his artwork. 

‘’ I am fine, I've had worse.’’

Man didn't seem convinced, Marko was ready for tons of questions but they didn’t come. Good for curly-haired vampire at that point, Xavier been through enough shit in his life, that he knew sometimes it’s better not to ask. He was supposed to be hiding here, not right at the beginning, being involved in something he didn't even want to know what it  was about. When he saw that men chasing blonde, as he was returning to from work his ,,new home’’, he felt this intense impulse to help him, some kind of strange attraction. Like a moth to the flame. There was one thing that still bothered him, did he really saw crossbows on men's backs?

‘’ Something needs to be done about it, wait here.’’

Marko doesn’t even get a chance to protest when black-haired man disappears behind bathroom door. That was the first time when Marko felt it. That tempting scent floating in the air, overwhelming. It was weird, he had never experienced anything like this earlier. But before he began to think about it more, man came back holding bandage and little bottle, placing them on the table by the window.

"Take off your jacket.’’

Marko smiled, man looked at him questioningly.

‘’ We haven’t been on a first date and you already want me to undress?’’

Black-haired certainly didn't expect such a question, he blinked in surprise. Marko giggled but granted his request. Man looks at his uncovered stomach for a moment, then shook his head and started dress the wound. The only strange thing was that the wound, despite its serious appearance, didn’t bleed too much and why it looked as if something had pierced blonde's arm. Marko looked around the cabin, couple half-unpacked bags was thrown next to the wardrobe, a small box by the bed, a leather jacket thrown carelessly on the chair, a few empty food boxes on the second table. Out of the corner of his eye, the man saw a curious look on Marko's face.

‘’ Yeah, well… I just moved here, I am Xavier’’

Blonde turned his head, watching Xavier wrap his arm in a bandage, it was a strange feeling of being cared in that way, in human way. As vampire he just need sleep to regenerate, no other special treatment.

‘’Marko’’

Black-haired glanced at him and nodded.

‘’ You often act as a nurse?’’

Xavier smiled a bit awkwardly at this term.

‘’ Sometimes. For my younger brother, day without hurting himself is a day wasted. Even though he is already an adult. Done.‘’

Marko looked at his now bandaged arm, not that he really needed it. Xavier went to put down the bandage away while blonde put his jacket back on. Curly-haired vampire got lost in thoughts for a moment, why was Xavier helping him at all and why didn't he ask any questions? Moreover, according to him, hunters gave up too quickly, Marko knew how stubborn they could be when they tracked down a vampire. Was Xavier one of them, just pretending be nice? Normally he could sense something is wrong, but now he felt nothing besides calm. It was strange, of course, he could have tried David's method. Just got into Xavier’s mind, but somehow he didn’t want to. The biggest surprise for him was that he didn’t think, even for a minute to about killing Xavier. He was just another human being in his life, nothing just another potential meal, then why did the thought about that make him really uncomfortable?

‘’ Hey, earth to Marko? You good manito?’’

Xavier went back to room, he had only known Marko for a moment and he could already see that this thoughtful expression didn’t suit him. He was sure that boy had really ,,interesting’’ personality, despite that lovely curls and angel face, he saw that mischievous spark in his eyes. Blonde looked at him and nodded, his face lighten up back to normal state.

‘’ Well…it's quite late and I’m convinced that there aren’t too many houses nearby. Drop you off somewhere?’’

Marko looked at clock on the wall, there wasn’t much time left until dawn. He had to go back and find Paul, his friend has probably already fed and found some entertainment for himself.

‘’ Boardwalk will be fine.’’

Xavier raised an eyebrow, but walked over to a small cabinet by the door, reaching for the keys.

‘’ Let’s go then.’’

They both left the house, Xavier made sure he closed the door properly and went down the stairs, Marko followed him to the back of the house. There were two things, both hidden under gray tilt, Marko was sure there was a car under one of them but under the other? Xavier grabbed the material and pulled it off, curly-haired vampire didn’t expect a motorcycle, a black Harley Davidson.

‘’ Big bike for a big man, huh?’’

Xavier laugh slightly, he shook his head, grabbing the wheel.

‘’ I grew up on them.’’

Blonde noticed a certain nostalgia and some kind of longing in the man's voice, he wanted to ask about it, but Xavier had already got on the motorcycle. The roar of the engine drowned out the silence of the night, Marko smiled widely as he came closer. He’d never gotten on a machine like that, according to his vampire lifestyle he had to have something more agile. His bike was a bit smaller, this thing was big and surely not as easy to drive as his own. Marko slid into the leather seat just behind Xavier, wrapping arms around his waist. Black-haired was probably not used to have a company, Marko smirked as he felt how man tense for a moment. Xavier looked at him over his shoulder, making sure he was sitting comfortably, the motorcycle moved.

The ride ended sooner than Marko could have wanted, Xavier stopped his bike near to boardwalk entrance. Neon sign illuminated them with red and white light. The place wasn't as crowded as it was when Marko left.

‘’Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to your home?’’

Marko shook his head, dismounting from the motorcycle. If he took Xavier to the cave, man would probably never come out again and to be honest blonde didn’t wanted that. He still had to figure out where this strange feeling in Xavier's presence was coming from.

‘’ I have to find my friend. I am 100% sure he’s still hanging around here somewhere, besides I have my own bike. Are you worried about me, bello?’’

Xavier lowered his head, a little ashamed. Marko saw that glimpse of blush on his cheeks. If one simple word did this to Xavier, how would he react to the higher level of his flirting. Marko would be lying if he didn't want to see it.

‘’ I just…I doubt these men was your friends and I'd rather not bandage you again anytime soon.’’

Blonde laughed internally, if only he knew.

‘’ I assure you that if I meet them again, they will need a bandage. ‘’

‘’Or rather coffins’’ thought Marko

‘’ I guess I can't stop you from doing that, now I’m sure we’re both tired and need some rest.’’

Motorcycle engine came to life again, Xavier smiled.

‘’ Take care of yourself, amigo.’’

Marko nodded, smiled back. He stayed in place for a moment, watching the motorcycle disappear into darkness of the night.

Curly-haired blonde didn’t tell his brothers what happened. He knew that David would be furious if he find out that he had disobeyed him, Marko wasn't in the mood to listen to complaints. Anyway he was 100% sure that Paul kept his mouth shut, that they split up, otherwise bleached blonde would immediately expressed his dissatisfaction.

When Marko returned to the cave, he felt again that weird feeling he had experienced earlier that night. But now it was some kind of longing.  Marko shook his head as he returned to his thoughts from Xavier's cabin. After all, he decided to be careful towards him, for now trying to drown out that voice calling him back.

Before Caroline or Paul noticed, he managed to sneak to his nest in the higher parts of the cave. He wanted to sew up his jacket, but before he could begin, his gaze paused for a moment on the bandage. An involuntary smile appeared on his lips.

David, Dwayne, Paul and Caroline saw that Marko was thinking intensely about something, but none of them asked what it was about. It could have been something from Marko's pigeons to which one of surf nazis pissed Marko off enough to be on the missing poster next night. They were convinced that if something serious happened to Marko, he would definitely share it with them…

Marko and Xavier met again two days later on a boardwalk.

Marko was just chilling with Paul near the Arcades after feeding, looking for some entertainment for the rest of the night. Just then, Marko spotted Xavier entering one of the small boardwalk shops. That feeling came again, leading him to the same store. This time, he didn't even try to fight it, leaving Paul again. His friend didn’t even notice, flirting with some girl. Xavier almost jumped out of his skin when Marko suddenly appeared behind him, but he had to admit he was glad to see blonde again. He had been thinking about curly-haired boy before, he was curious. He heard Marko’s Italian accent and wanted to know more about him. Luckily for Xavier, blonde vampire after two nights of trying to reject his feelings, gave up. He asked Xavier if he wanted to hang out together, biker agreed. Marko showed Xavier around Santa Carla, he didn't even notice when it was almost down and they spent whole night together.

He was surprised how well they got along, despite the visible differences between their personalities, as if they complemented each other. Xavier told him a bit about himself, however Marko saw that the Mexican was hiding something. Blonde knew he would eventually find out what was going on, it was only a matter of time. The only thorn in the night was when Xavier asked Marko about his wound. It’s was nice that he cared but how was Marko supposed to tell him that there wasn't even a trace left from the shot? He was glad he sewn up the cut in his jacket before he went to rest, so Xavier couldn't see his arm. Marko just mumbled something like ‘’It’s fine’’, man looked at him unconvinced but he didn’t ask about it again.

Soon after Xavier drove away, back to his cabin, on his way to find Paul, Marko still thought about black-haired Mexican who refused to leave his thoughts, making himself in his mind like at home with every next second. Blonde vampire just couldn't get those honey-colored eyes out of his head.

And then Marko suddenly stopped. The realization hit him hard, at that moment he understand this warm feeling that had accompanied him since they met, probably the same feeling that David had experienced when he met Caroline. Marko never thought about it, never believed he’d get one. That was it, he found his mate.

[tea-ddie]

Something that may or may not be clear about my book, Ballyhoo, on a surface level, is for how long it's been in the works. People who've known me for several years will remember the very first draft of the comic from 2018/2019. That version was specifically made for Webtoon and has been more-or-less scraped for the current version of the story. Because of that, all of Ballyhoo's characters have gone through pretty big changes—not just in their design/my art style evolution/etc, but also in their occupation, some elements of their backstory, and more. I've started working on Book 2 and have been making some new concept art. I realized as I looked to the future of the project, it was a good time to look back. This post will go through three of the main characters: Evelyn, Marjorie, and Oretta, and explain how we got to where we are in Ballyhoo.

Evelyn Golubev

2018: Evelyn was one of the very first characters I ever created for this story. She was originally the femme-fatale-type—her girlfriend had just mysteriously gone missing. She worked at a vaudeville-type club as a dancer and, besides being somewhat hot, ominous and foreboding in the way that a femme-fatale must be, that was about it. I was still definitely trying to understand my art style and struggled a lot with making the hair look as "natural" as I wanted. Her outfits all leaned pretty heavily femme and her makeup was heavy... but uncanny as I didn't fully understand how to color makeup on a face then.

2024: Evelyn Golubev, or better known by her stage name, "Evelyn Gold," still works at a vaudeville club, but beyond dancing, also sings and performs at other bars and clubs across the city of Portapolis. She is the frontwoman of her Baby Blue Band, which is the house-band at local lesbian bar, the Lilac. Although she still holds some of her femme-fatale vibes, I wouldn't necessarily describe her as a "femme" in the queer spaces she occupies. She wears custom blue suits at the club and brings a swagger that would make any girl blush to her performances. In both versions of her character, she holds a few secrets that she protects fiercely, but in the currently version of the story, the consequences of these secrets coming out feels more intense. Overall, I think her character has become more refined and deliberate in the story.

Marjorie Miller

2018: Oh, Marjorie. Her role in the story has shifted pretty significantly from the first drafts of the story—in this earliest drawing, she's pictured singing at what was a lesbian house party. She was always a bit desperate—trying to fit into a space that wasn't really for her. I knew she had grown up outside the city, probably in a more rural area, and was trying hard to fit into more classy and elegant circles. She mostly functioned as a background character in the lesbian scene who held a secret that would help solve the mystery (because of course this story was always a mystery).

2021: This was about at the time I was re-developing the story and laying out the groundwork for a new version of the comic. Despite scrapping the house parties, I wanted to redraw that specific scene... mostly because I liked her dress. Marjorie's hair, similar to Evelyn, was something I became more comfortable drawing with time. In 2021, you can see me trying to separate the way her somewhat messy waves and curls fell. Like I said, at this point I knew the house party scene with Marjorie wasn't going to happen, but I wasn't sure what her exact role would be. Was she a hopeful performer? Someone who performed alongside Evelyn in the Vaudeville club? Something else entirely? What was her life like when she wasn't singing? Well...

2024: Marjorie Miller is a married woman, living her perfect, heterosexual, suburban housewife life with her dearest husband George. This might seem like a hard pivot—it also feels like a hard pivot to her old friends Oretta and Evelyn, both of whom she's mostly fallen out of touch with. Despite the changes in her life, she is content with how it's worked out for her, or at least pretends to be. Still, beneath the picture-perfect surface is a woman who was, in every version of the story, desperate to fit-in and who is living a life that feels out of her depth.

Oretta Adams

2018/19: I don't have a drawing for this, but my earliest ideas for Oretta included her arriving in Portapolis on a train. This was always her introduction and it's how she arrives to the city in Ballyhoo, too. Back then, I knew she was an old friend of Marjorie's and Evelyn's who would open up an aspect of the mystery and story that both of them wanted to keep hidden for whatever reasons. I'm sure this sounds woefully underdeveloped—and that's because at that time, it really was. However, this was around the time where I started to have an inkling that maybe the trio's shared past was in the circus.

2021: Because her introduction was so vivid in my mind, a lot of Oretta's early concept art is her at the train station. Pictured in 2021 is a more relaxed version of Oretta: she smokes, she's dressed very casually and comfortably, and, of course, she has her suitcase. It was important to me that she always dressed for comfort and for herself first and foremost. This is part of why Oretta's outfits in the current story consist of a lot of 40s work-pants and sweaters.

2024: As I started writing the comic in 2021/22, it became shockingly apparently that Oretta was the main character of the story. Her being the factor that opens up secrets multiple people wanted to keep hidden put her in a prime place to act as both outsider and instigator. Oretta, Marjorie, and Evelyn share a background in circus performance and it started to make sense that she would be a writer/playwright, taking her experience in showbiz to a backstage role. And it is her play—possibly inspired by past events—that triggers the main events of the story. Her play is a catalyst for too many things coming out, and everyone seems to have a good reason for wanting to make sure the show will not go on.

In Conclusion...

Ballyhoo has been a long time in the works! I hope this is interesting, or maybe even inspiring for those starting longer stories? Things will take time, but it will be worth it. I'm really happy that Ballyhoo: Book One is out there in the world, and I'm honestly so excited to get to keep working on this project. I might do more posts like this about other characters or other aspects of the story—again, it's been in development for what seems like a pretty long time and I have a lot of thoughts about how different aspects of the story have played out.

[autisticandoddlyspecific]

It's 2:40am and I just imagined a bunch of shit about Sun and Moon in the world of fuckin Hazbin Hotel of all things, specifically to build up to the dumbass ship of DCA/Alastor. So yea here are my notes.

Sun suddenly wakes up in like an alleyway or something in hell. The sound of the city – including the anguished screams, drunk arguments, and the occasional distant gunshot or explosion – overwhelms him. Sun, dazed and confused, is probably harassed by somebody lying around in that same alleyway and quickly darts off to avoid further issue. He’s immediately horrified by the grimy and gore-stained state of the streets, and decides to just keep running. Still in shock, he notices a few posters scattered about on the ground. One’s a very worn and barely legible one drawn in what used to be a fun handmade drawing of the “Happy Hotel”. He figures based off the name and the art that it might be in a cleaner state than his current location. He finds his way to the hotel, noticing it’s new name, “Hazbin Hotel”. He wonders for a bit if they went under some kind of rebrand, and if this change means it isn’t the happy place he was hoping for, but he decides to knock anyway just to see. He’s greeted by Charlie, who welcomes him in. 

At some point, he gets a moment to sit down, and starts coming out of shock. Probably whilst talking with Charlie. He starts to break down, crying he doesn’t know where he is or how he got here. He learns he’s in hell fairly quickly, and is unsure as to why. Does that mean he has a soul? Upon being asked, he simply answers that he is not human, that he never was. Just created as a theater robot, then a daycare attendant, and suddenly he was here with no warning. Charlie takes compassion on him in his distressed state, and assures him that the hotel is safe, and he is welcome, soul or not. Based off what we see in the end of the first season of the show, Lucifer probably lives at least part time in the hotel to be part of his daughter’s life and all, so it could be this soon that Lucifer is prompted to take a look at Sun, revealing a sort of soul, not quite like the human souls or the smaller sparks of life in beings such as Razzle and Dazzle(r.i.p). Also it’s a sort of dual-soul thing going on where it’s like two cells not quite done with cytokinesis. Sun isn’t sure yet that he’s okay with people knowing about Moon, so he doesn't give that away. The exact moment is pretty flexible and I could also hc that Charlie possesses the same ability so it doesn’t really matter if Lucifer actually stays there lol.

Sun gets along with Charlie, and is given a room despite his insistence that he doesnt need to sleep. She’s all like “You still need a place to yourself to relax!” so he relents. He’s pretty amazed at having his own fully furnished room. Even in its best state, Sun and Moon’s room in the ‘plex was just storage basically. Boxes.

I also imagine that he’d clash a little with Niffty, as they both have their own ideas of how things should be done to keep an establishment in working order, and neither likes their work being interfered with. Sun is also both disturbed and disgruntled at the fact that Niffty hunts down bugs with needles, intending to stab them, rather than use anything like bug traps or poisons.

Even more, Sun’s put off by Alastor, as he literally cannot look at him with his robotic eyes without visual distortion and glitches. At some point he’s gonna ask if Alastor can make it stop and he will, but I don’t know how long that’d take.

Before long, some unexpected event occurs, and the lights go out. Until this, he’d never been in any area too dark. He’s in some room alone at this time, and someone hears odd noises or something and either checks on him or just runs into Moon. Moon is immediately ready to fuck shit up, and unable to think clearly. He causes some drama and mild property damage, but fails to seriously hurt anyone before being trapped by at least one of the powerful magic users in the building. Charlie probably summons a light source, which upon realizing Moon reacts negatively to, brightens it enough to bring Sun out. Sun is probably nearly inconsolable and at least half-expects to be thrown our or decommissioned for what just happened, and Charlie asserts she wouldn’t, immediately understanding that Sun is suffering and unable to control what happens when it's dark, and offers to help. During this conversation, Sun either intentionally or accidentally lets it slip that something is wrong with Moon, and that he isn’t supposed to be like this.

This is the latest possible moment the existence of some sort of soul-like essence in Sun and Moon can be discovered, as Charlie asks to see what’s inside them to make Moon act this way. Sun is hesitant, as it requires turning off the lights to get a good look, but is assured by those present that now that they’re not being caught off guard and already have their weapons/magic at the ready that they will be able to handle it. Sun also needs to be reminded that Charlie genuinely wants and likes to help people, and Sun is gonna be a little caught off guard by being indirectly referred to as a person. He probably hugs Charlie, and asks her to be careful. Moon is like a rabid animal, but ultimately helpless with Alastor there, keeping him in like a barrier or whatever. Charlie examines the infection on Moon’s half of the dual-soul thing, and Vaggie and Angel taunt Moon with anything that triggers more aggression to make the infection more apparent/distinct and easy to remove without collateral damage. Vaggie just points her spear more aggressively at Moon, awkwardly shouting that she’ll hurt him and other people, and Angel goes like “OoOoOh I have a gun! And drugs!” Which sets moon tf off. "And sex toys!" and Moon isn’t having it and does more rabid animatronic shit which is funny as hell tbh, and was the intended effect. Charlie starts separating the infection from Moon, causing him to screech, flail around like that slug that touched the salt in that one tiktok, and claw at his face before going still. His red eyes fade as he goes quiet, before his hands slowly twitch, and his eyes light up blue. 

Moon is free from the parasite in his head, and falls to his knees. As the magical barrier recedes, he has no idea what to feel. He also just isn't sure what’s going on because he hasn’t had much of a coherent thought of his own since arriving in hell, but he has the vaguest idea. Moon’s like “How could I ever repay you” And Charlie’s like “All you have to do here is try your best.” and I think now’s a good time for Moon to get his turn to cry into her shoulder.

Over the course of the first few weeks at the Hotel, Sun, and eventually Moon, realize they are doing things they never were built or programmed to do. They learn they can emote with their faces much more than they ever could’ve before. They can cry with tears. They can get sleepy, and sleep like human sleep. They can even eat and drink somehow.

The first few interactions with Alastor are brief, most likely, the few words they do exchange being somewhat frustrating. Alastor doesn’t have any interest in associating with Sun and Moon, mainly as an extension of the general distaste he has for modern technology, partly because Sun said some passive aggressive things about/to Niffty. But a few taunting words with a thin veil to sound like a mockery of encouraging words is totally on the table still. 

Yea idk im going to bed.

[fantasyfantasygames]

Under the Eaves

Under the Eaves, Rooftopper Games, 2013

"Rooftopper" is the name for a very small race of fae who live on rooftops in the Shadowmarch series (one of Tad Williams' better works). It's therefore appropriate that Rooftopper Games made Under the Eaves, where you play exactly that.

Your characters live in a large late-medieval city. You're only a few inches tall, tiny enough to live off crumbs and dew. Only a few "big folk" know you exist. Most have heard of your kind, but think you're just a rumor in their gritty, low-fantasy world. Meanwhile, you live a life of high adventure, sneaking behind flowerboxes, sliding down rain gutters, fencing with needles, and weaving esoteric magics with cobweb-covered crow bones.

Character creation is done through flowchart that looks like a grape trellis. You pick your starting points with a family and a calling. You trace a path to the advancements (grapes) you want, and if you can reach it from more than one starting point you get more benefit out of it. Each advancement comes with a sentence or two of backstory. They're well-written, but they don't always mesh together perfectly, so you'll probably have to throw out some of them. When you're done you'll have a few broadly applicable d6 dice pools that intentionally overlap in some areas of specialty. You might have 3d6 in Acrobatics and 2d6 in Fighting, which would give you 5d6 in dodging things. Gear either adds more d6 to your dice pools, or sets a minimum or maximum roll for your actions or your opponents'. The system as a whole is fairly traditional, with hit points and resisted rolls and stuff. No falling damage, though.

The GM section includes a d100 table of possible adventure seeds, with the intent that you roll twice to get the "second-act twist". For instance, you might start trying to find a crow who captured someone's child, only to find out that there's a rat invasion coming and you have to figure out how to handle both of them. Perhaps there's a curse on the town and you're trying to find out why, but it turns out the witch is being blackmailed by thieves. Not all of them make sense (the rat invasion is being blackmailed by thieves?) but you can usually get something that works with another roll or two. Honestly, "the thieves who are blackmailing your friend are being blackmailed by thieves" is pretty great.

The game's art is generally an asset. There's a map of the city as a whole, with a zoomed-in area for the "Home Roofs". Layout uses some non-standard fonts but generally to good effect. Some pieces were done by an artist who is fine but whose work doesn't fit with the others, and two have a weird brightness/contrast issue.

Overall the game could use a bit more polish, but I enjoyed it. Most of the people involved in its creation went on to do cool stuff in future games. If I were them I'd be pretty proud of having this as a first work. I'd love to see a crossover between Under the Eaves and Chuubo's Far Roofs setting. Who wouldn't love to play a swashbuckling sprite and their swashbuckling rat mount/companion?

Under the Eaves was Rooftopper Games' only publication. There are a few small hard-to-find supplements that were mail-order only, each describing a particular location or organization. Their website is shut down and their DriveThru account boarded up a while back due to not so much a legal dispute as there being no clear decision as to who was supposed to run it after the company closed. If you write to the authors they'll still gladly send you PDFs.

[niuttuc]

So I saw a post about this concept and thought it would make for a interesting ask. Magical damage, like a necromancers fingers slowly turning black and losing sensation or a wizard with lighting bolt scares across their arms. What dose it look like when Arnoss, Zarunpel, Sezashi and Dancing-Hands push their magic beyond what their bodies can handle?

I find this question funny because of all my characters you could have picked, those are probably the ones that can strain their magic the least! So instead, let's talk about why they don't really do that, and we'll touch on the question! But I do appreciate the effort of narrowing down your questions to some characters for the copy-paste when it comes to my inbox, it hasn't gone unnoticed.

Most of the magic for Arnoss and Zarunpel is passive.

Zarunpel's "blessing" from the Wilds might not even function under the same rules as traditional magic, it follows more narrative rules. It affects her body and hair in many ways, but when it comes to the limits of it, it often is more about what would make a better story. She's stronger than someone that looks like her should be, but depending on what she has to do, the exact degree to which this is true varies. As long as it's somewhat reasonable, in important situations she's often just strong enough or almost but not there, depending which tells a "better" story. Of course, she has no idea how that works.

As far as her spellcasting, it's mostly temporary protection spells, they're more likely to be cast too late or not last long enough than to hurt her when she overuses them. Which means she or whatever she's protecting gets hurt the way it otherwise would have been. When the Urborg panther living in her shadow gets "killed" or banished in some ways, Zarunpel can also be left without a shadow for a time while Vel reconstitutes.

Similarly, Arnoss's magic is mostly passive buffing and reinforcing his scales, when it is overstrained, he gets hurt the normal way. However, it also depends on how many people need and want his help nearby, and in some cases that can be overwhelming to feel during major disasters in populated areas. So many people needing help and he can't help all of them. And he's found that when he tries to help all of them in a city when it's not a disaster, he exhausts himself going from one to the other for hours and days, there's always something in large population centers.

Sezashi has a hard cap on the number of spells he can maintain at once, at four, represented by the floaty objects that orbit him. While some are harder to maintain than others (maintaining multiple charges of the same nature on someone else requires concentration and effort), the failure point is usually just that one or multiple of the spells slip and come back to him, and he probably isn't in a state to reuse them just yet. With that said, premature failure of magic that can manipulate sizes and create duplicates is generally not a good idea, plenty of unfortunate timings possible. Also duplicates that are ended in this way don't fuse back as cleanly to the original, which certainly causes headache and can cause the loss of memories the duplicate had.

Dancing-Hands's innate telekinesis can be overpowered or overwhelmed, but it's very difficult, and it generally doesn't strain the kitsune much to use. Using it on non-physical things is more relevant here. It only works on nonliving elements. Using it on eldrazis, even scions and briefly, made him feel sick and gave him headaches, and he couldn't sustain it for more than a few seconds. He rediscovered how to use it on magical effects not too long ago, and that has taken a lot more out of him, and could potentially replicate or redirect harmful effects to him if he's not careful. The telekinesis itself is invisible if not for its effects.

As far as his Kanji magic, well, he typically only uses ink, and on paper, but much more powerful and dangerous opportunities are possible when this type of magic is used with blood (or other living material) and on living tissue. Be it using his paper blade on himself or drawing with his own blood on paper, the result would be white paper and fur marred in reds. It's not something he'd ever want to do, but in theory, it's possible.

[vonartsy]

Poisonous Flowers [1001] - Ch 4

Chapter four.

First chapter. Previous chapter. Next chapter.

     Reflexively, the man yanked his hand away from the vine that had attempted to latch itself onto his glove, and sprinted for dear life.

     Oh dear. Things were not going well, not at all. The worst part was that it was all up to Vance to get them back. No offence to him, of course, but Vance wasn’t really the most… ideal person of choice. Not for a task of this much importance, and to do by himself no less. 

     Oh no, oh no—nononono… Vance quickly paced through the alleys without paying much attention to where he was walking, his hands absentmindedly playing with his left glove he took off. “This is all bad—really really bad…” He took even breaths so as to keep calm while his mind thought and thought about what his course of action should be. “Sooner the better, but I gotta put some thought into this too…” He continued to mutter under his breath, aimlessly wandering through the city. Then, Vance found a man leaning against a brick wall in a sort of dark and ominous alley. It would almost be cartoonishly scary if not for the cigarette held between his lips, golden yellow smoke being exhaled rather than the expected smoke. With his height, he was like a tree compared to Vance.

     The two exchanged glances. Both were expecting someone, but, well, other people. The stranger lifted a hand out his jacket’s pocket and took the cigarette out. “And who might you be?” The man had a distinct Russian accent.

     “Oh, hi. Vance. ” Vance waved a hello. As suspicious as the stranger looked, Vance wasn’t cautious at all about him, for some weird reason. “You happen to see a lil’ plant kid that’s, like, ye high?” He made an estimation of its size by putting one of his hands at about knee height.

     The stranger thought for a few seconds, then remembering that he actually had seen something like that. “It was bigger than that, but I think I know what you’re talking about. Thing went down that way.” He pointed with his cigarette at a slim entrance to a separate area that Vance would have totally missed if he hadn’t asked. 

     “Thanks man!” Vance shouted as he ran over to go in that direction. “‘Preciate it!”

     The stranger watched as he scurried off. Lab people are so interesting…

     Strangely, Vance felt somewhat happier from the stranger. Maybe it was because he helped him, or because he just wanted some social interaction after having not talked to anyone for a solid 15 minutes—he’s the kind of guy to hang out with someone 24/7 if given the chance after all. Whatever the reason, Vance would probably try to find him again and be friends. ‘Can’t have too many friends’ is what he basically lived by.

     As he got closer to where he was told the anomaly was by, it smelled like… cut grass? Vance sneezed. Oh dear; it seemed like there was also an abundance of pollen. There’s probably a good chance it really was still around there then, and hopefully, it hadn’t sucked the life out of his missing team members. He didn’t know what he’d do without them; just an abrupt and forced goodbye. Best to not think about it, however, as he felt positively certain he was on the right track.

     Then he heard them, just faintly enough that it could have been bypassed without a second thought, but he recognised them instantly. It was hard to make out any words though, so he needed to get closer. Vance sprinted to where the echoing of their voices seemed to be originating from, focusing more than he ever had before on a task to try pinpointing where they were.

     “Erikson! Phillips?!” he called out.

     “Vance!” It sounded, and seemed, like Phillips was close by.

     If anything, Phillips sounded like she was… above him. He looked up, and above him was an amalgamation of brambles, leaves, fungi, and basically every other plant Vance couldn’t think of off the top of his head. The anomaly wasn’t even in a specific shape, just some sort of mass that fumbled around with the use of vines to pull itself. In this case, it was using the vines to stick to the two buildings making the narrow alley. It was encroaching on him, and fast.

     The man blinked a couple times to see how true this was until it was only a metre or two away. He jumped as he realised the freak really was there, running out onto a sidewalk. The anomaly chased after him like a feral animal, leaving trails of moss and fungi spores in its wake. Vance walked backwards and onto the road while loading his tranquillizer, glancing up at the anomaly every other second to see how fast it was gaining on him.

     “C’mon c’mon, just load already!” he growled. His gun just happened to be jamming at the absolute worst possible time. Finally, after enough hits, the tranquillizer decided to properly work for once, and so Vance raised it up and fired two darts.

     One flew just above the anomaly, the other lodging itself right into the core of the target. It shrieked, flailing its plant appendages in rage, but despite the fact the poison was designed for anomalies, the rain seemed to be reinvigorating the entity and washing out the effects. All his attempt at defence did was make it furious. The anomaly lunged at Vance, only to be rammed by Bravo Team’s van.

     Vance stared dumbfoundedly as the anomaly flew across the road, the van skidding to a halt.

     One of the front windows rolled down. “Get in, loser.” Oh. It was Dipaulo sitting in the passenger side. Did… did he have a flower crown on?

     “Yeah, yeah,” Vance grumbled, climbing into the back seat. It looked like Brit was driving. “Where’d ya’ find Brit?”

     “The plant freak had a nest, or… something like that—on top of a building. He was just chilling in there.” Dipaulo whispered something about running over the anomaly to Brit, to which he shook his head. 

     “And what’s with the flower thing? On your head?” 

     Dipaulo shrugged. “Brit was bored when he was stuck with the anomaly.”

     While those two continued chatting, Brit left the van and cautiously made his way over to the anomaly. It looked like it was, unsurprisingly, knocked out. Thing is, it was far too big to stuff in the back of the van though, so they’d just deal with that later and hope it didn’t wake up by the time they got back from getting the rest of Bravo. Brit went to the van, driving down the road to the building with the entity’s nest. If it behaved the same, then Phillips and Erikson were expected to be there.

     Brit parked in front of the building and turned to Dipaulo and Vance. “Alright, so, you lads are going to stay here and watch for the anomaly. I’m going to check if Erikson and Phillips are in the nest, and if they are, I’ll bring them out. Got that? And please, no funny business. This mission is already spelling out way too much paperwork that I don’t have the time or energy for.”

     Vance and Dip both looked at each other before nodding.

     “Good.” With that said, Brit promptly left.

     “So…” Vance got comfortable, and since he had the backseats all to himself, laid down with his hands placed on his stomach. “How long were ya’ looking for Brit ‘til you found him?” He asked curiously. “Like, considering we didn’t stay long at the lab at all, and y’ already left, you must’ve been searchin’ like a dang hound.”

     “I was… worried.” Dipaulo looked out the window at the building.

     “Mmm, yeah, fair.” The van got mostly quiet, the only sound being Vance softly humming a cheery tune to himself. 

     It wasn’t long before Brit came back with Erikson and Phillips tailing behind him. Brit got in the front, Erikson shooing Dipaulo to go in the back (which he did with a pout), and Phillips sitting in the back as well. Now they were all in their usual placement.

     “Oop, that was fast,” said Vance. “So we gon’ get that thing now?”

     Brit nodded, driving them all to where it was, and somehow, the anomaly was still there. Actually, it seemed too still… Eh, not that much of their problem. Bravo Team got out of the van, staring at it until Phillips had an idea of how to bring it to the lab.

     “What if we, uhm, we took it and like… put it… on top of the van? You know?”

     Vance grinned at the idea and put his left glove on again, briefly giving Phillips a thumbs up, and then grabbing a couple of vines. He managed to pull it towards the van a little bit, but he’d definitely need some help if they were going to get it on top anytime soon. Vance turned to the others, gritting his teeth while he still kept pulling it. “Am I gonna do this all by myself?”

     The rest took the hint and helped to drag it all the way over and onto the top, and to keep it on the van, Erikson tied some of the vines around the bars on the roof of the car.