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gigiii1sblog · 21 days ago

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DORM-ROOM DEVIL 005

Warnings: mature content, fluff, sexual content, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sexual content.

Chapters Five: drinks and kisses

Y/N POV:

The party hadn’t slowed down—it had just shifted. Louder bass, drunker bodies, hotter rooms. The kitchen smelled like tequila and cheap cologne, and every room buzzed with that electric chaos frat parties thrive on.

I should’ve left.

I should’ve gone with the guy from earlier—the one who complimented my perfume and offered to roll us something in his car. I should’ve disappeared from this damn house before anything got worse.

But I didn’t.

I stayed.

And that’s when I saw it.

Chris.

Against the hallway wall.

Hands tangled in her hair.

Lips on her mouth.

His mouth.

On her.

And not just some girl.

Sopiah.

My friend.

Well—“friend” in the way girls like us use the word. We share lashes and lighters. Compliment outfits. Take mirror selfies in the bathroom and repost each other’s thirst traps. Not real friends. Just party friends.

Still, it burned.

She was wearing glitter under her eyes, a backless top, and that dumb butterfly necklace she never takes off. And he—he had one arm around her waist, the other gripping her jaw like she was the only girl in the universe. Their mouths moved like they were starving. Like they were trying to consume each other.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw. Messy. Loud.

He was putting on a show.

And he knew I was watching.

Because as his fingers slid down her back, his head tilted just slightly—eyes peeking open mid-kiss, like instinct—and met mine.

Dead on.

Right in the middle of it, Chris looked at me.

And smirked.

Like it was a game.

Like I was losing.

I felt my stomach drop. Not the butterfly kind. The gut-punch kind. Like my throat had been ripped open and filled with cement. But I didn’t flinch.

I tilted my chin up, like I didn’t care. Like I wasn’t breaking open inside.

“You good?” someone asked beside me—Matt.

I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

“Yeah,” I lied, eyes still locked on Chris. “Perfect.”

Matt followed my gaze, then cursed under his breath. “He’s a dick,” he muttered.

I laughed once, but it didn’t sound like me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He offered me his drink. I took it. Drained half.

“I was about to leave,” I said, voice casual but not calm. “Want to walk me back?”

Matt hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

And that was it.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t give Chris the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

But inside?

I was wrecked.

CHRIS POV:

I couldn’t stop.

Not because I wanted her.

But because I wanted her to see.

Y/N.

She walked into this party like she owned it—dark hair curled around her shoulders, that black mini dress hugging every curve, lashes long enough to knock a man out. She flirted with my brother. She gave me that lap dance like she wasn’t scared of anything. Like I was just a toy she could wind up and toss away.

So yeah. I made out with Sopiah.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

Except I did.

Because when I looked at Y/N, standing across the room in heels and hurt eyes, gripping a red cup too tight—something in me cracked. She didn’t cry. Didn’t flinch. Just stared.

Then walked away with Matt.

And something ugly roared to life inside me.

The same voice that said, She doesn’t care about you. She’s just playing.

But the truth?

I didn’t want to kiss Sopiah.

I wanted to pull Y/N into a dark room.

Press her against the wall.

Tell her to stop messing with my head.

Tell her she’s mine.

But instead?

I let Sophia drag me upstairs.

And the whole time, I wondered what it would take for Y/N to finally break.

Y/N POV: The next morning

The dorm felt different in the morning.

Not quiet. Not peaceful.

Just… fake.

Sunlight poured through the windows like it had the right to, even though it made everything look worse. The empty bottles on the counter. My heels abandoned by the door. The mascara smudge under my left eye.

I moved through the apartment like a ghost, wearing one of my oversized BU hoodies—his hoodie, technically, but I wasn’t giving it back. Not after last night.

I’d gone home alone.

Not because I couldn’t pull someone.

But because I couldn’t get him out of my head.

Chris.

Chris with his tongue down Sopiah’s throat.

Chris smirking like he won.

Chris who didn’t even chase me.

And now?

He was whistling in the kitchen.

Whistling.

Lacrosse sweats low on his hips, still shirtless, hair messy from sleep and probably still tangled with someone else’s perfume. He didn’t look at me when I walked in—just poured cereal like we were roommates and nothing else.

“Morning,” he said, voice casual. Not even smug. Just… normal.

And that pissed me off more than anything.

I didn’t answer.

I made a point of ignoring him. Went straight to the cabinet. Pulled out the oat milk I knew he liked. Took a long sip just to piss him off.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Damn, you’re in a mood.”

I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “Just tired of people pretending they’re something they’re not.”

He laughed once—low and sharp. “Right. You’re so real, aren’t you? Wearing my hoodie, acting like last night didn’t happen.”

I turned slowly, eyes cold. “You mean when you made out with my friend? Or when I left with your brother?”

That got his attention.

He turned fully to face me now, cereal forgotten.

“You think that bothers me?” he said, voice a little rough. “You think flirting with Matt means something?”

“No,” I said, smile tight. “But it clearly got your attention.”

For a second, we just stood there. The kitchen between us.

Air thick like a storm was coming.

And maybe it was.

“You always gotta play games?” he asked, stepping closer now. “Always gotta act like you’re untouched? Above it?”

I tilted my head. “You’re the one who’s pressed, Chris. I’m just existing.”

He laughed bitterly. “You’re not just existing, roomie. You’re performing. For everyone. Walking around in tiny dresses, playing the good girl until the lights go out.”

That struck something.

And I let it.

“Better than fucking the first glittered-up girl who looks your way,” I said, voice cool.

Silence.

Then, his eyes dropped to my legs, slow and deliberate. “You jealous?”

I stepped closer. “Do I look jealous?”

He smiled now. Not soft. Not playful. Dangerous.

“You look like you want to be the one I pinned to the wall last night.”

My breath caught.

He was inches away now, and the air between us buzzed—electric, toxic, unavoidable.

“You want to know what she said?” he asked, voice low. “When I kissed her?”

“No,” I snapped, but he didn’t stop.

“She said, ‘I bet you taste like trouble.’”

I stared at him. My spine straight. My heart pounding.

“And?” I said. “Do you?”

He leaned in. Close enough to smell my perfume—vanilla and smoke. His lips ghosted near my jaw, not touching.

“You tell me,” he whispered.

I swallowed.

And then I stepped back.

“No thanks,” I said, reaching for my vape on the counter. “I don’t do reruns.”

He let me walk away.

But I felt his stare on my back like a brand.

⸻

CHRIS POV:

She walked away.

Again.

In that stupid oversized hoodie and bare legs and smug little smirk like she wasn’t seconds from losing it. Like I didn’t see the way her throat moved when I got close. Like I didn’t hear her breath catch.

Y/N was the most dangerous girl I’d ever met.

Not because she kissed back.

But because she didn’t.

Because she always walked out the door after setting me on fire.

I ran a hand through my hair and laughed under my breath. Bitter. Low.

She wanted me to chase her.

And the worst part?

I wanted to.

But not yet.

Because if we collided too soon, we’d ruin everything.

We were on a collision course—slow, burning, inevitable.

And I was going to make sure when we finally did crash?

It was unforgettable.

Y/N POV: Later That Day

The music pulsed low through the apartment, a bass-heavy playlist thudding against the floorboards — not a wild party, but not quiet either. That in-between zone. The kind where anything could happen. The kind where people remembered what happened, but not how it started.

Chris had apparently decided tonight was “lowkey.” Which, for him, meant a crowd of twelve, an open bottle of Casamigos, and a haze of smoke curling through the living room.

He was sprawled out on the arm of the couch — black hoodie half-zipped over a matching tank, black sweats sitting dangerously low on his hips. A backwards fitted hat sat snug over his hair, pushing a few loose strands down into his eyes. He hadn’t shaved. His jaw was sharp.

His posture screamed confidence. Legs wide, ringed fingers tapping his thigh to the beat, beer in one hand. He looked like sin wrapped in casual comfort. He always did.

And when I walked in?

He noticed.

But didn’t say a word.

He just looked.

I didn’t dress up for it.

Not really.

Just threw on my black micro tank — one of those tiny, ribbed ones that cut short at the ribs and clung tight across my chest — and baggy, low-slung jeans that hung off my hips just enough to show the glint of my silver belly piercing.

Nothing dramatic. Just enough.

My hair was down. Lashes curled. That same gloss I always wore — the sticky kind that shimmered faintly under the cheap party lights. I didn’t need to do much. I never did.

And the second I walked into that living room?

I felt it.

Eyes on me. But especially his.

Chris didn’t say anything — just tipped his beer slightly and looked.

I didn’t look at him.

But I knew.

He was watching the way my shirt hugged my chest. The way the waistline of my jeans dipped when I leaned over to grab a drink. Watching the curve of my neck as I tilted my head back to laugh at something someone else said.

Watching me exist.

And I loved that.

CHRIS POV:

Eight days. That’s all it had been.

Eight days of living with her and I already felt insane.

Y/N walked into the room like she owned the place — not even trying, not even looking at me, just moving through the crowd like she didn’t know every guy in the room had their eyes locked on her. Black tank. Tiny. Tight. Cut so high I could see the slope of her ribs when she stretched her arms overhead. Baggy jeans slung low on her hips. Belly piercing catching the light.

Fuck.

She was a menace.

And she didn’t even try.

The worst part? She wasn’t like the other girls who hovered around the lacrosse house or fake-laughed at everything I said. She wasn’t giggly or desperate. She was… cool. Detached. Almost smug.

Which made it worse.

Because I wanted her attention.

And she gave it to everyone else but me.

⸻

Y/N POV:

“Truth or dare!” someone yelled out. “We’re not sitting here playing DJ roulette all night. Let’s make it interesting.”

I didn’t respond, just leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped my drink — vodka and something red. Sweet. Cheap. Perfect for chaos.

Then someone nudged me. “You playing?”

I turned to look across the room. Chris hadn’t moved, still slouched in his all-black fit like the king of indifference. But I could feel him watching. I gave a shrug. “Sure.”

The group shifted into a loose circle on the rug. I slid down cross-legged, my tank riding up slightly. I noticed Chris watching, but he didn’t join.

He stayed right where he was, sipping slow, eyes low. “Chris,” Nate called out, already grinning like he was up to something. “Truth or dare?”

The music buzzed low in the background — some slow bass-heavy track playing from someone’s playlist. My drink was cold in my hand. I could hear the distant thud of someone messing around with a speaker in the kitchen, but all I really heard was that pause — the beat right before Chris answered.

“Dare,” he said lazily.

Of course.

Nate’s grin stretched wider. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

The whole room reacted at once — laughter, gasps, someone even yelled out “FINALLY.”

I didn’t flinch. Just leaned back slightly on my hands, my glossed lips pulling into a slow smirk as I looked across the room at him.

Chris didn’t move right away. He just stared at me. Dark eyes under the brim of that backwards hat, a beer in his hand, black hoodie pulled halfway up his forearms like he was comfortable—but I saw the shift in him. That slight flex of his jaw. The way his fingers gripped the cup a little tighter.

He stood slowly.

Like he had time.

Like he knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

I held his gaze. Let my knees fall open a little more where I sat on the carpet. My cropped tank rode up just enough for a flash of bare stomach, the shimmer of my belly piercing catching the low kitchen light.

He stepped over someone’s legs, didn’t break eye contact. When he finally stood in front of me, the room seemed to still, the noise dulling under the weight of it.

“You good with this?” he asked, voice low, scratchy, dipped in that smoke-roughened edge I’d started recognizing. “You don’t have to.”

I tilted my chin up. “I can handle a kiss, Chris.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was biting back something smart.

Then he crouched down in front of me, hands resting on his knees, face only inches from mine.

“Then come here, roomie.”

He didn’t wait. One hand slid under my jaw, tilting my face up, the heat of his palm making my breath catch.

His lips met mine — and it wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t some silly party kiss for the sake of a dare.

It was possession.

His mouth moved against mine with slow, deliberate pressure. Tongue grazing the seam of my lips, testing. His other hand planted firmly on my waist, fingers digging into the denim at my hip. I tasted beer and smoke and something sharper — something like the ache of being seen and touched in the same second.

I gasped softly against him, and he took that opportunity to deepen it — lips parting wider, tongue sliding against mine. My fingers twisted into the front of his hoodie, gripping. Anchoring.

The room faded out. People were laughing still, someone made a crude joke, but none of it mattered.

His fingers dragged slightly under the hem of my tank, Not far. But enough.

I pulled back first.

Breathless.

Gloss smudged. Heart hammering.

Chris’s eyes were on mine, darker now. He didn’t say anything.

Just stared for a second longer, like he wanted to say more, do more.

Then he pushed off his knees, stood, and walked back to the couch like it hadn’t just shattered the oxygen in the room.

⸻

CHRIS’S POV:

That wasn’t just a dare.

That was a goddamn turning point.

The second my hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt and I felt the bare heat of her waist under my palm — the second her lips opened for me — I knew I was in deep.

She tasted like cherries and vodka and danger. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And worse — like she liked doing it to me.

I couldn’t sit still after that.

Back on the couch, beer forgotten in my hand, I watched her lick her lips — maybe to fix her gloss, or maybe to remind me what I just lost contact with. She didn’t look at me again, not right away. Just turned and laughed at something Matt said like her whole world hadn’t just tilted sideways.

I leaned back into the cushion, hoodie sticking to my skin, hat pulled lower over my face like I needed cover.

This girl was going to ruin me.

And she hadn’t even tried yet.

I needed air. Or space. Or a fucking distraction.

The kiss was supposed to be a dare — quick, stupid, party fuel. But the second my mouth touched hers, everything tilted. Her lips were too soft, her body too warm, and the way she kissed back? It wasn’t innocent.

It was intentional.

Calculated.

She knew what she was doing to me. And that drove me up the wall.

I grabbed my rolled Blunt from the windowsill and slipped through the sliding door out onto the narrow balcony. The city buzzed around us, Boston loud and messy in the distance. I leaned against the railing and lit it up, dragging the smoke in like it could calm the chaos under my skin.

It didn’t.

The door slid open behind me. My jaw clenched before I even turned.

Of course.

Y/N stepped out like she wasn’t the source of every fucking issue I had right now. Her black tank clung to her body, exposing a sliver of skin above her jeans. That damn piercing glittered under the moonlight, and her lip gloss — still a little smudged from me — caught the city glow like it was taunting me.

“You always come out here when someone makes you feel something?” she asked, leaning against the opposite end of the railing.

I let out a dry laugh. “You think that kiss made me feel something?”

She looked over, unbothered, lashes low and lazy. “Didn’t say it did. But you’re out here with your blunt and your bad mood, so…”

“So maybe I just needed a smoke.”

She pulled a lighter from her back pocket and raised a brow. “You’re not the only one.”

I watched her light up like she’d done it a thousand times, casual and collected. She blew the smoke sideways, away from me, but the curl of it drifted anyway — sweet and sharp, just like her.

“Nice kiss,” she added, not looking at me.

My jaw ticked.

“You wanna rank it on a scale or something?” I asked, tone dry.

“Nah,” she said. “Wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

I turned, finally facing her. “You keep a list?”

She smirked, slow and evil. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The silence stretched between us — not awkward, but tight. Heavy. Her eyes flicked down to my mouth and back up like she didn’t mean to.

And that was the moment.

That exact second.

My blunt burned between my fingers, half-forgotten. Her lips were parted slightly, like she was thinking of a comeback and never said it. The wind lifted a few strands of her hair, and she didn’t move. Neither did I.

“You trying to get under my skin, roomie?” I asked.

She shrugged, stepping closer, smoke twisting between us. “Not trying. I think I already did.”

And fuck me.

She was right.

Y/N POV:

I didn’t plan to follow him out to the balcony.

I didn’t plan to light a joint or pretend I didn’t care.

But I had to see if that kiss got to him the way it got to me. If he was out here because I threw him off balance. Because something shifted. Because the game we’d been playing — teasing glances, snide comments, low-simmer flirtation — had officially crossed a line.

He didn’t look cocky anymore.

He looked tense. Guarded. Like touching me set something off inside of him that he didn’t know how to put back.

Good.

Let him feel it too.

The silence between us started to press into my ribs. My pulse was annoyingly loud. I hated that he could look like that — hoodie sleeves shoved up, backwards hat hiding half his face, smoke slipping from his mouth like a goddamn sin — and still act like the kiss hadn’t undone something between us.

“I bet you do this a lot,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Kiss girls at parties like it’s nothing.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “I don’t usually kiss the girls I live with.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow. “So I’m special?”

He looked at me then — really looked at me — and his voice dropped, low and deliberate.

“I didn’t say that.”

But the way he said it?

He didn’t have to.

And just like that, I felt it again — that spark at the center of my chest, daring me to step closer, to say something reckless, to grab his hoodie and pull him back into my mouth just to feel it all over again.

But I didn’t.

I flicked ash off the edge of the balcony and exhaled.

Then I turned, walked back inside, and left him standing there — smoking, brooding, and thoroughly fucked up over me.

Exactly how I wanted it.

⸻

The rest of the night was a blur.

Music pulsed. Bodies moved. I let someone pour tequila down my throat while I danced with a red cup in one hand and chaos in my chest. I laughed louder than usual. Smiled harder. Pulled a guy into my space without caring what his name was.

But no matter how many shots I took, no matter how hard I tried to disappear into the neon fog of this party, I could still feel him.

Chris.

His kiss. That look in his eyes. The weight of his stare as I walked away.

It wasn’t fair that he got under my skin that easy. That he stood there like temptation in a hoodie and smoke in his lungs, acting like kissing me meant nothing when we both knew it did.

So I got drunk. On purpose.

Wasted, even.

I stumbled through the apartment hours later, barefoot, mascara smudged, my shirt twisted and riding up one shoulder. The party had dissolved. Most people had left. I wasn’t even sure who was still here — I just wanted to forget the burn between my legs and the ache in my chest.

I wanted him.

And I didn’t care how messy that made me.

I pushed open his door without knocking.

His room smelled like weed and laundry detergent and the remnants of whatever cologne he wore when he thought no one would notice. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting, but there he was — sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in his hand, hoodie still on.

He looked up slowly. Didn’t say anything. Just watched me.

CHRIS POV:

I heard her before I saw her.

The front door swung shut way too loud for how late it was, and her footsteps came unsteady, echoing through the apartment like a warning. I was already in my room, hoodie on, lights low, scrolling on my phone and trying to forget the party — more specifically, trying to forget her.

But of course, she came straight to me.

My door cracked open.

And there she stood — Y/N, in the doorway, messy and flushed and fucked-up in the kind of way that screamed trouble.

Her makeup was smudged under her eyes, lips still shiny with gloss like she’d just been kissing someone else. Her top was tight and twisted, showing just enough skin to make it impossible not to look. And those low-rise jeans? Hanging off her hips like she wanted to be a distraction.

“Chris,” she said, breathy.

“You’re drunk.”

She giggled. “You always say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Because it is.”

She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, smile lazy and wicked. “You mad I had fun without you?”

I said nothing.

Because I was mad. Not because she flirted with other guys. Not even because I saw her grinding on some dude I didn’t recognize.

But because no matter what she did — no matter how far she pushed — she still ended up here.

With me.

“You gonna let me in, or what?” she asked, already stepping inside like she owned the place.

I didn’t stop her.

She made her way to the bed and sat down, head tilting. “This your plan? Hide out while everyone else parties?”

“My plan,” I muttered, “was to not be a babysitter tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting her legs up onto the bed like it was hers too. “Relax. I’m not gonna puke on your precious sheets.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

She looked at me. Like really looked at me.

Then she crawled forward on her knees — slow, like a game — until she was right in front of me, her hands braced on either side of my legs. Her face tilted up, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Then what are you worried about, roomie?” she whispered.

I swallowed.

She leaned closer, lips brushing my jaw. My whole body tensed. “Is it that you think you can’t handle it?” she asked softly.

I grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N,” I said through clenched teeth, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Her grin curled. “Who says I won’t?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

“You won’t remember this.”

“Yes, I will.”

I let go of her wrist — big mistake — and she slipped her hands under my hoodie, palms warm against my abs. I sucked in a breath as her lips ghosted over mine.

“You want this,” she said.

“I want a lot of things,” I snapped. “Doesn’t mean I get to have them.”

She pulled back just slightly, enough to raise a brow.

“Wow. So that’s your way of saying you’re scared.”

I laughed dryly, bitter. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Then kiss me.”

“Y/N…”

“Kiss me or admit you’re a coward.”

Her eyes locked with mine — a dare, pure and dangerous. I wanted to push her away. I wanted to be the good guy, the respectful one, the roommate who didn’t take advantage of the girl who was half-wasted and clearly hurting.

But her mouth was right there.

And her breath was sweet with tequila and strawberry gum.

And her hands were still on me, pulling me in like gravity.

So I caved.

I kissed her.

Hard. Deep. Angry.

Because it was wrong and I hated how right it felt.

She moaned into my mouth, fingers gripping the hem of my hoodie like she needed to hold on to something or she’d fall. Her body pressed to mine, hips flush. It was messy, all teeth and tension and built-up frustration.

And then—

She slumped forward.

Just like that. Her head dropped to my shoulder. Her breath slowed.

“Y/N?” I whispered.

No answer.

She’d passed out.

I sat there, stunned, with her body folded into mine like it belonged there — like I hadn’t just been resisting this exact thing all night.

My chest rose and fell fast, pulse thudding.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, nose brushing my collarbone.

Fuck.

I gently shifted, laying her down on the bed. Her lashes fluttered once, but she didn’t wake. I pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it around her waist, then ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

My jaw was tight. My heart wouldn’t stop racing.

She kissed me like it meant something.

And passed out like it didn’t.

heheeheheh

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siravalondulac · 6 months ago

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- house of lies, city of blood

"no amount of smiles and laughter could hide the fear in her eyes"

fem!oc centric

summary: ten years after her mysterious disappearance, princess cerelle baratheon finally returns to king's landing - just in time for her brother joffrey's wedding. but the scars she carries run deep and the demons she gathered in the riverlands threaten to consume her. mayhaps her families can help heal her, but first she would need to mend their shattered bonds. all while trying to keep her past from catching up with her...

-updates every sunday 6pm cet-

part three of the series 'stars above, songs below': part one | part two | part three

also read on: ao3 | wattpad

main masterlist

pinterest board | spotify playlist

chapters:

-act one-

001. cerelle i

002. elia i

003. oberyn i

004. ellaria i

005. cerelle ii

006. cersei i

007. cerelle iii

008. sansa i

009. tywin i

010. elia ii

011. oberyn ii

012. cerelle iv

013. elia iii

014. oberyn iii

015. cerelle v

016. ellaria ii

017. tywin ii

018. oberyn iv

019. jaime i

020. cersei ii

-act ii-

021. cerelle vi

022. the courtier

023. jaime ii

024. cerelle viii

025. cersei iii

026. sansa ii

027. balon swann i

028. cersei iv

029. tywin iii

030. cerelle viii

031. ...

°☆to be continued☆°

AUs, additional works, deleted scenes:

a feeling as if you're slowly bleeding, a feeling as if you had cried | oberyn's pov, short intro to the state of things (ao3 link)

prelude to chapter 22, oberyn's pov

jon and melisandre talk about cerelle (around chapter 25)

°☆to be continued☆°

#fic: stars above songs below #fic: house of lies city of blood #asoiaf oc #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #asoiaf fanfic #game of thrones oc #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfic #oc: cerelle baratheon

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miraclemuncher · 1 month ago

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phantasm

005. the truth was built to bend

remus lupin જ⁀➴ fem!vampire!oc

summary. Remus Lupin is under the assumption Snape is a drug dealer and his biggest customer is Jubilation Delight

notes. thanks for all the support! like + reblog if you like this chapter

tags/warning. marauders era, remus is still a dumbass, not beta read

series masterlist → previous → 6. i can’t wait ‘til the drought is over

Billie is possibly the worst vampire ever. For starters, she isn’t even a fully fledged vampire. It’s part of the damn reason she’s so exhausted all the time. Fledgling vampires are the weaker bunch, they don’t get any of the “perks” the legit vampires have.

She cannot be any more different from the vampires in her DADA lessons. According to the textbook definition, a human is only transformed into a vampire if they survive the bite.

The thing is, nobody really survives the bite. The second a human is bitten, it’s just a matter of time until the lethal vampire venom spreads to the rest of their body. It could take minutes, or even days until the venom fully affects them. Nobody knows, or nobody cared enough to research it. The only known way to combat this is through consuming the blood of the vampire who infected you. The blood of existing vampires create an antibody against their own venom.

The only way Billie survived her vampire bite is by being force fed the blood of her host vampire. It’s what happens to every other vampire, and it happened to Junius Campbell, the second year boy from Gryffindor.

And that’s just one difference real vampires have from the fake lore that’s been spread throughout centuries. To keep it brief, Billie can’t do anything fully fledged vampires can do until she drinks human blood, which will never happen.

The second a vampire drinks human blood they throw away all hopes of returning to a normal human being.

Billie won’t waste her chances of becoming normal again over some cravings. She can't. So she endures the sleepless nights, the rapid aging, and the painful process of filling down her fangs, which can all be solved by a single sip of human blood.

A cure will be developed soon. Dumbledore is researching her blood. If she holds out long enough, the suffering will be worth it.

Until then, Billie will have to show Junius the ropes.

As promised, she met the boy in the infirmary during lunch. She snuck him a sandwich and a cherry tart to relieve the hunger from skipping breakfast.

Billie held up the magical filing tool once he finished eating. “We’re filing down the fangs,” she stated. “This will hurt if done incorrectly so listen carefully,” Billie warned.

Junius gaped at the sight of it. “Woah, woah, woah,” he healed up his hands, trying to create distance between himself and the tool. “How necessary is this? Like, would it really be that bad if I had my fangs out?”

“Try not to be dramatic, okay? It’s not that bad, and Pomfrey’s canine soothing paste is almost ready,” Billie tried to calm him down.

Junius only grew paler. “I’m putting ointment on my teeth?” He repeated in disbelief.

“…Yes,” Billie was starting to realize how weird the process can come off as. “It doesn’t taste that bad. Just open up already!”

Being a vampire is an absolute curse, and Billie would have to watch Junius go down the same path. At least he won’t have to walk down that path alone.

𝓡

Remus’ usual preparations for full moons rarely involve studying animagi. Not lately anymore since Sirius, James, and Peter finally perfected their transformations last year. Their presence made the nights more bearable.

It’s all still a bit new to them. A little studying wouldn’t hurt, even if the reasons shifted.

Remus was in the library collecting a variety of transfigurations and animagus books. He’s caught between some bookshelves when he spotted Delight through the gaps. It’s his first time catching her like that in daylight.

She carried an assortment of textbooks in her arms. Or at least seemed to be before Remus accidentally bumped into her. He needed a better look at whatever subject she’s studying. It might just fill in the missing puzzle pieces.

Their books mixed together in a pile of cracked spines and dishealved parchment. Remus played the part of a gentleman and helped Delight collect her books first. Each one was dedicated to advance potion brewing, Remus noted.

Delight dusted off her skirt as she got up, though it did nothing for the ink spots blotted against the grey pleats. Remus handed Delight her parchment of notes and quill — so that explains where the ink came from.

“You came out of nowhere! I’m so sorry!” Delight profusely apologized despite being the one deserving of an apology.

Remus really had to stop being involved with the destruction of her clothes.

Shite. Remus had been so focused on ruining another set of Delight’s clothes that he forgot to take a peek at her notes. Wait, could the type of quill she uses be significant too? Remus had to think fast to make up for this missed opportunity.

Strategically, Remus swapped one of her potions book for one of his transfiguration books. He slipped it beneath one of her actual textbooks to conceal the cover.

“Don’t worry about it,” he responded with a safe smile as he handed her the unassuming stack of books.

Delight took the books without hesitation or the slightest suspicion. “Thanks,” she said, completely ignorant of the hidden plant she’s just accepted.

The moment Remus saw her retreat into a nook to study in, he instantly flipped open the book he swapped. He kept his eyes out for annotations, bookmarks, anything that’ll indicate the potion she’s planning to brew. There was nothing. Not a single clue that reveals her intentions.

He’ll have to move on to phase two. Remus took the book with him and set out to find where Delight settled on studying.

He found her in the dimmest part of the library. The window curtains were drawn closed and candles put out. Remus needed to squint to make sure it was actually Delight and not an assortment of books shaping a human.

He approached her desk with a moderate amount of noise to announce his arrival.

Delight’s eyes were glued to the book. Remus could make out it was on how to convert potion materials to suit any sized container. That was… something. He could figure it out later. Delight still hasn’t noticed his presence.

When clearing his throat didn’t catch her attention, Remus resorted to knocking on her desk.

She lightly jumped and looked up at him. “Wow, you really do come out of nowhere,” Delight awkwardly laughed.

Remus knew his stealth couldn’t be this good. Delight might just be plain dense.

Remus raised the book. “I think there might’ve been a mix up,” he also gestured to the stack of books where his animagus book was tucked in.

Flustered, Delighr scrambled to return his book. She handed Remus the animagus textbook titled, Transfiguring a Wizard’s Body. “Good luck on your transition— transfiguration!” Delight blurted then quickly cleared her throat. She repeated herself, “Um, good luck on your transfiguration.”

Remus returned a confused smile. “Thanks. I’ll need it…? You too with your…” Remus pretended he didn’t know the title already, “Understanding Alchemy. When did Snape assign reading?”

“Oh Merlin, he didn’t. This is just…” Delight paused. With an embarrassed smile she explained, “Rita is sparing whoever brews the best beautification potion from appearing in her section of Hogwarts Daily. The winner will probably end up as her permanent personal brewer, but it’s better than becoming the target of Rita’s paper.”

Rita Skeeter was a seventh year Ravenclaw with a knack for writing. Her hold on the entire student body is terrifying. Thank Merlin this was her last year to terrorize Hogwarts students.

Remus could smell Delight’s deceit from a kilometer away. Her rambling was a clear indicator of lies.

“Can I join in?” Remus asked. “I’ve been meaning to refine my potions making.”

“It’s mostly a Ravenclaws only thing,” Delight answered. How so very convenient.

“I look good in blue.”

Delight shook her head with a smile. “It’s not that simple, Lupin.”

Remus crossed his arms. “Try me.”

She smirked and nodded. “Newcomers from outside houses must test out all the potions. And so does the Ravenclaw who invites them. Sorry Lupin, but I really don’t wanna be subject to the second years’ brews.”

She was going to great lengths to cover up her lie. The more lies she told, the more it’ll reveal.

Remus knew Delight must be tight on money based on her exchange with Snape. And Sirius owed him a favor anyways. She wouldn’t be able to reject his offer.

“I’ll give you a hundred galleons,” Remus confidently said.

“Deal,” she immediately agreed, way quicker than Remus originally thought.

They promptly shook on it with grins.

Remus couldn’t wait to see how Delight’s grand lie would play out.

“Actually, um…” Delight winced. “People can’t join during the competition.”

Remus hadn’t expected Delight to pull out of the lie that early. She’s a bit smart, Remus had to admit. Delight is trying to buy herself time before the lie is complete exposed.

“But you can still spectate the one Rita is hosting! It’s on Halloween, so save the date…!”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x fem!oc #remus x female original character #vampires #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin fanfiction #x oc #vampire

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jamesphillimoresumbrella · 4 years ago

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WIP challenge

Tell your blog the titles of all the WIPs you are currently working on right now and a little about them and then tag five other writers.

I was tagged by @thetimemoves. Thank you!

I re-read the instructions, saw the word “all”, and went Oh. No. Because, well, I really am quite terrible.

The Sorceress’s Husband - This is the latest one, which pretty much popped into my head fully-formed when I finally realized what the lyrics of Charming Disaster’s Little Black Bird were saying. Meant it to be a quick little one-shot, but it said, nope, it wanted to be a re-telling of A Study in Pink too, aside from being a fairy tale.

005 - It’s porn about porn, from the kink meme, that has taken me years to write, but I wander back over to this one whenever I feel like I don’t know how to write anymore.

The Turning Point - Mystrade for @merelypassingtime, where Greg does ballet and Mycroft makes a habit of looking in on the older boys when he comes to pick his little brother up from dance class. Research for this was fun because I dove headfirst into Mikhail Baryshnikov videos. This needs one more chapter. I have most of it. I am stuck on a transition and have rewritten it so many times.

Only the End of the World Again - a Good Omens crossover for @khorazir, which is set after the events of Good Omens: Aziraphale and Crowley ask the world’s only consulting detective for help to keep the world from ending. Again. But not Armageddon, that’s been and done.

No Earthly Thing – a fic for @consultingsmartass where Sherlock gets cursed with tentacles, that is also a re-telling of The Devil’s Foot. I tore through so much Celtic mythology and fairy lore for this and I need to stop re-writing the third chapter and just plain old write it, I need to get to Leona Sterndale.

A Study in Emerald-verse companion to The Hunting Dogs - I want to write this one so badly, and have a few lines down, but do not know if I can do it properly, no matter how many times I read The Lion’s Mane and The Musgrave Ritual.

Persuading Violet Merville - a sequel to The Seduction of John S. Willoughby, which was my first Sherlock fic. It’s meant to be The Illustrious Client and The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax smashed together, and I know what’s getting me with this one is that I can’t write like I did Seduction, churning out a chapter a day, back when I was half-mad and clinging to everything Sherlock like a lifeline.

Shameless – a kink meme fill where Sherlock and John meet in a club, and have a one night stand. They have been stuck in the one night stand for years now. Help.

Out of Innsmouth – a kink meme fill where John has tentacles, and, well. It’s a kink meme fill. With tentacles. That’s still ongoing.

Black Gods and Ivory Boxes - My first foray into A Study in Emerald AU for BBC Sherlock. I want to write the rest of this. I know how it goes. But I need to heavily re-write the extant bits first, because this was from when I was consuming George R.R. Martin and you can tell I was trying for grimdark and gritty, but that just isn’t how I do things at all.

The Last Night at the End of the World - Adlock. I am very fond of this, but I wrote myself into a corner and need to extricate myself. And them. Help.

Don’t You Ever Tame Your Demons - started for a prompt asking that John be a certain type of incubus that needs to procreate. I, um, don’t know if this one will see the light of day tbh.

Boots and the Glass Mountain - suggested by @bluebellofbakerstreet when I threw out a post asking for fairy tale to smash into fic. I’m excited to get to this one! It would have been my January fic if “Little Black Bird” hadn’t hijacked my brain.

Snow White and Rose Red - @kitten-kin suggested this on the same fairy tale post, and I don’t know how to do this fic yet, but I am determined to figure it out precisely because I don’t know how to do it.

And, because it occupies a significant portion of my notebook and my head, an original story as yet untitled, where an evil spy (just a job title), a warrior (of sorts), a witch who can’t do magic, a goddess’s avatar, and a girl who just wants to go home need the Chosen One to defeat a Dark Lord - only the Chosen One’s mother won’t hear of her going anywhere near the bastard because the girl is seven. Her mother’s coming instead.

And those are the ones that I am working on, though I might be missing one or two. It’s a horrifically long list, but seeing it laid out like that makes it a little less daunting for me. Now I have a checklist. Yay!

Tagging @merelypassingtime, @bluebellofbakerstreet, @khorazir, @helloliriels, and anyone who’d like to have a crack at this! (Also apologies if you’ve been tagged before and I didn’t notice.)

#sherlock fic #things i write #lord love me son of adam #that's a lot of things

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zarahjoyce · 6 years ago

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Hi! For the 'dropping an ask' post you did, I want to know about your writing process. To specify, 1) what motivates you to keep writing and 2) how long does it take to finish a fic? And since things come better in threes, 3) you're a fantastic writer - I love the simplistic charm to your words, and regardless of how long or short your fics are, I really enjoy them :) (it's something I say on most days but you deserve to hear all the compliments in the world ^-^)

hello darling! I’m so happy with this ask, especially since I’ve been wanting to blurt out words but have no outlet for them XD

1) what motivates you to keep writing

Reviews play a huge part of it; I’ve always felt as though if I hadn’t received a lot of support from reviewers I wouldn’t really be writing fics. I’ve always thought that if my stuff make people happy when they read it, then at least I’ve done something good with the “talent” I have.

Also there’s the feeling of intense pride when you look back at your own stuff and feel absolutely no regrets in churning them out :) Bonus points because, as you’ve pointed out, I almost always get head over heels for ra r e pa i r s that have absolutely .005% chance of having available and consumable content, hence I just churn them out myself. Bonus bonus points when I manage to sway people into my cause of shipping the rarepair? I’ll be like cackling in my seat and say WELCOME TO HELL DEAR FRIENDS????

2) how long does it take to finish a fic?

It depends. I’m terrible at keeping fics beyond 1.5k words, so usually when the idea for a oneshot comes to me I can churn it out in less than a day. I know it’s horrible to edit as you write, but that’s how I do it - I write a chunk, read the dialogue out loud, put the barest descriptive words in it (adverbs are my best friends FIGHT ME), and then edit as I go.

Multi-chaptered fics take me more time because I feel like I need to at least ensure that the tone of the latest update is at least in tune with the ones before it. Also I usually get devoured by writer’s block when I do multi-chapters, so my updates are usually very, very slow (i.e. once a month is my target rate.)

3) you’re a fantastic writer - I love the simplistic charm to your words, and regardless of how long or short your fics are, I really enjoy them :)

oh my goodness thank you! I feel like I’ve become comfortable in this sort of writing style; in my dramione days, I often got divisive reviews, with some content with the “sketch” of a writing I do as I let them fill the void themselves, while others wish I was more descriptive. I’m more comfortable writing dialogues, which is why most of my work are dialogue-driven :) I do wish I can be more descriptive at times (and more imaginative with my titles like you) but, idk. I did like the phrase I used in my review to you - fumbling towards existence - so I might just use that someday, idk :)

Thank you for this ask! Look it’s longer than most my oneshots, hahaha.

#ask me anything #fic writing #I enjoyed writing this down

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asktheadeptus · 8 years ago

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Lion El’Jonson

"In Warfare, preparation is the key. Determine that which your foe prizes the most. Then site your heavy weapons so that they overlook it. In this way, you may be quite sure that you shall never want for targets."— Lion El'Jonson, Tenets of Strategy and Supremacy

Lion El'Jonson, known also by the cognomen, The First, and the honorific Primaris Angelus Mortis, and often times referred to as the Lion during his lifetime, was the Primarch of the Ist Legion of Space Marines, the Dark Angels. Following the events of the Horus Heresy, Jonson and his Crusading fleet returned to his home world of Caliban. Inexplicably, they were fired upon by the Dark Angel forces garrisoned there under the command of his once-trusted mentor and surrogate father, Luther, who had been entrusted with the custodianship of Caliban in the Lion's absence. Luther would eventually betray the Lion after allowing himself to be seduced by the offers of Chaos, rallying a good portion of the Dark Angels who had been left behind by their fellows to garrison the Legion's home world to his cause and attacking the Lion's fleet as he returned to Caliban. The titanic struggle between the two former friends resulted in the destruction of Caliban and the loss of the Dark Angels' Primarch, as well as the escape of Luther's allies who had sided with the Ruinous Powers. Known as the Fallen Angels amongst their former Battle-Brothers of the Ist Legion, it became the overriding goal of the Dark Angels and all of their Successor Chapters (collectively known as the Unforgiven) after the Second Founding to hunt down every one of the Fallen and get them to repent their betrayal of the Emperor and of the Lion. Perhaps one of the greatest secrets of the Imperium of Man, known only to the Emperor himself, is that the Lion is still alive and resting in stasis, buried deep within the Dark Angels' mobile fortress-monastery, The Rock. There he waits to be awakened to lead the Dark Angels in one final Crusade to save Mankind from all the enemies who threaten it with extinction.

History

Early Life

During the event that isolated the infant Primarchs from the rest of the Imperium, Lion El'Jonson was cast to a hostile, feudal Death World infested with monstrous, Chaos-warped Great Beasts that was named Caliban by its inhabitants. The humans of Caliban had regressed to a feudal state, yet still retained sufficient technology to produce armour similar in appearance, if not quality, to Imperial Power Armour and firearms similar to Bolt Pistols. Caliban was kept relatively safe from the Great Beasts by the Knightly Orders such as the Order and the Knights of Lupus.

The Lion was discovered as a feral child by the Knights of the Order, including the greatest man of the age, Sar Luther. Luther then named the boy Lion El'Jonson (meaning "Lion, Son of the Forest" in the Calibanite dialect of Low Gothic). In a very short time after this, the Lion replaced Luther as the greatest man on Caliban and became the Grandmaster of the Order. The Lion killed a great many of the death world's Great Beasts, including one of only two Calibanite Lions on the planet, the other being slain by the psyker and Supplicant of the Order, Zahariel El'Zurias, with the aid of the latent psychic ability later called, "terror sight," that allowed him to slow down the perception of time long enough for him to find an opening in the animal's defenses.

During his career as a Knight of the Order, the Lion led a planet-wide crusade of all the Knightly Orders (save for the conservative Knights of Lupus) against the Calibanite beasts. If not for Luther, this crusade could not have occurred, as his influence was required to persuade the other Orders to participate. During the course of this crusade, both the beasts and the Knights of Lupus were exterminated. It was on the ceremonial last hunt of the beasts that the forces of the Imperium's Great Crusade would finally arrive on Caliban and reunited the Space Marines of the Ist Legion with their gene-father.

Arrival of the Emperor

Eventually a unit of the Emperor of Mankind's forwards scouts from the Ist Legion of Space Marines arrived at Caliban and identified the Lion as one of the Emperor's missing sons, the Primarchs. Jonson was immediately given command of the I Space Marine Legion when the Emperor realized he had not only found one of his lost sons, but the genetic father of the Astartes who had landed on Caliban. Luther and the other members of the Order who passed the Legiones Astartes' trials were transformed into Ist Legion warriors, either as fully-fledged Astartes if they were young enough to undergo the implantation of the gene-seed organs, or through genetic manipulation to increase their physical abilities if they were too old for the process, like Luther. After the new Astartes were ready, Jonson publicly re-named the First Legion the Dark Angels after an old Calibanite myth. Luther, too old to be a Space Marine, was the first to be genetically modified and became Jonson's second in command, as he had been during the Calibanite crusade against the great beasts. Jonson then left with the Emperor and the newly re-named Dark Angels to continue the Great Crusade.

Great Crusade

The Lion was granted command of the 4th Expeditionary Fleet of the Great Crusade in orbit of the planet Sarosh. The Saroshi had recently expressed their interest in becoming part of the Imperium, and the Imperials were eager to allow them in, believing that these people seemed to possess the same secular beliefs as they did in the Imperial Truth. But the Saroshi secretly worshiped Chaotic entities in the Warp they called the Melachim ("kings" in ancient Hebrew) who may have been the Ruinous Powers or their lesser daemonic servants. They saw the atheistic stance of the Emperor's Imperial Truth as nothing less than a philosophy of pure evil since it would deny the very existence of their gods. The Lord High Exacter, the leader of the Saroshi bureaucracy, denounced El'Jonson and the Emperor to their faces aboard the Dark Angels' flagship. El'Jonson responded by impaling the Lion Sword through the fanatical Saroshi leader's body. However, unknown to the Dark Angels the Saroshi had also brought a nuclear device aboard their shuttle, intending to assassinate the fleet's entire command structure, including Jonson; however, Luther and a junior Librarian named Zahariel managed to eject the shuttle into space, causing only minor damage to the flagship. After this incident, Luther, Zahariel and two hundred other Dark Angels were sent back to Caliban in disgrace for allowing an enemy to get a nuclear device aboard the Primarch's flagship. They were to oversee the recruitment of new Space Marines into the Legion from the Calibanite population.

As the years passed, news of Jonson's victories kept coming back to Caliban. The jealousy which Luther had first felt on Jonson's appointment as Supreme Master of the Order grew with every report, and the position Jonson had given Luther was not one suited to his ambitions. He slowly changed from an honorable knight to a man full of jealousy and hatred towards Jonson, because he felt he had lost out on fame and glory. Additionally, new reports indicated that Luther discovered a book of Chaos lore on Caliban that gradually caused him to turn from the path of righteousness until he was consumed by the temptations of the Ruinous Powers and was transformed into a Chaos Champion.

A Lion and a Wolf

At some point during the Great Crusade, the Dark Angels and the Space Wolves Legions were assaulting the planet Dulan that had not given in to the Imperium's demands to become a compliant world. The leader of the rebels had insulted Leman Russ by naming him "The Emperor's Lapdog." Russ and his Space Wolves planned to assault rebel leader's stronghold for this blemish on their honor. While they were busy planning, the Dark Angels took the initiative and brought the fight to the capital instead and the Lion himself killed their leader. Russ found the Lion with the dead leader at his feet and immediately attacked his brother Primarch. They fought for a full day and a night, the combat ending only when the Lion threw Russ through a table. When Russ got up he started laughing at the foolishness of their quarrel. The Lion, incensed that his brother appeared to be mocking him, hit him square in the jaw, knocking Russ out cold. Russ awakened many hours later to find that Lion El'Jonson and his Dark Angels had already left the planet. Honour Duels are still fought between members of the Space Wolves and the Dark Angels to this day over this incident, which sometimes results in fatalities.

Horus Heresy

Suppression of the Gordian League

During the 200th year of the Great Crusade, the Dark Angels Legion was carrying out an Imperial Compliance campaign against the Shield Worlds of the so-called Gordian League -- a confederation of human worlds who were allied with degenerate xenos. During this campaign, in 005.M31, the Dark Angels high command received word that Warmaster Horus and the XVIth Legion had renounced their oaths of allegiance, along with Primarch Angron's World Eaters, Mortarion's Death Guard and Fulgrim's Emperor's Children. They also received word of the atrocity committed against the doomed world of Istvaan III, when Horus ordered it to be virus-bombed, rendered it a lifeless planet. The Warmaster knew that the Emperor would respond with all the force he had available. Jonson believed that the Dark Angels' deployment to the Shield Worlds was part of an effort to scatter the Imperium's most loyal servants as far as possible in order to minimize the number of Legions Horus would have to face at any given time. Even so, a strike force of seven full Legions posed a dire threat to Horus's survival, as they made their way towards Istvaan V.

Battle of Diamat

Jonson's forces were too deeply enmeshed in the Shield Worlds to respond quickly to Horus's treachery; the best estimates of the Primarch's staff indicated that it would take them nearly eight months to conclude their offensive operations, even on an emergency basis, and reposition themselves for a strike against Istvaan V. Even if they could move more quickly, Horus's agents would be able to alert the Warmaster in time to organize a counter-strike. However, Jonson believed that a small, hand-picked force, might accomplish what an entire Legion could not. The Primarch issued orders for many of their reserve squadrons to resupply and prepare for immediate deployment to the Tanagra System. Their primary target was to secure the Forge World of Diamat. They could not afford to let the Warmaster acquire the substantial supplies and ordnance needed to fortify the world of Istvaan V against the approaching Loyalist strike force. Jonson would personally lead the expedition to Diamat, with a battle group of fifteen warships. Secrecy was vital, as the Primarch was aware that the Warmaster's agents were more than likely tracking the Dark Angels' movements. Jonson went to Diamat in order to secure several powerful continental siege machines; vast artillery pieces that could devastate the most powerful fortifications.

The small fleet of Dark Angels vessels arrived in the Tanagra System just five days after the destruction of Horus's landing force at the Xanthus star port. With no way to secure the siege machines held in storage in Diamat's depots from Jonson's Astartes, the admiral of the raiding fleet had little choice but to withdraw back to Isstvan. The Warmaster's final gambit had failed. Following this small victory, Jonson met with his fellow brother Primarch, Perturabo of the Iron Warriors Legion aboard his flagship Invincible Reason. Perturabo informed Jonson that the IVth Legion was enroute to the Istvaan System, to face the Warmaster and his Traitor Legions upon the black sands of Istvaan V. Ferrus Manus and the Iron Hands Legion had hastened ahead of them, hungry to claim the Emperor's vengeance against Horus. Perturabo than lied to Jonson, explaining that he had hoped that his Legion could provision his vessels at the Xanthus star port above Diamat before continuing to the combat zone. Of course, they were now unable to, as the Ist Legion had destroyed the star port.

Perturabo then inquired to Jonson how he had learned of the existence of the siege engines. Jonson explained that he had learned of it fifty years earlier when he was studying the history of the Great Crusade and saw a reference to them in a despatch from Horus that had been sent to the Emperor. He'd commissioned the colossal siege machines from the masters of Diamat during the long siege of the xenos fortress-states on Tethonus. The war machines took much longer for the forge masters to complete than planned. By the time they were finished, the campaign on Tethonus had been over for a year and a half, and Horus had moved on to other conquests. So the weapons were put into a depot here against the day when he would come to claim them. But then the Istvaan III Atrocity occurred. When Jonson had received word of Horus's perfidy, he knew that ultimately the Warmaster's path would ultimately lead to Terra. Even if he were somehow to prevail against Perturabo and the other Legions sent to confront him in the Istvaan System, the Warmaster couldn't claim total victory so long as the Emperor was safe in his palace. No, for Horus to triumph, their father had to die. And that meant a long and costly siege of Terra. Therefore, the Warmaster would come to claim the siege engines of Diamat.

Jonson informed his brother that he would be unable to accompany the Loyalist fleet to Diamat, as he had to make all haste to the Shield Worlds and prepare the rest of the Ist Legion for the trip to Terra. In fact, he thought it best if no one outside Perturabo, himself and the other Primarchs ever knew that the Lion was there. He didn't want the Emperor to believe he did anything at Diamat with an ulterior motive in mind. Perturabo agreed that its was both a prudent choice, and a very humble one. Jonson explained that his actions were done for the good of the Imperium, not for accolades, nor for power. Jonson confessed to his brother that he believed Horus had become their father's favorite son for no other reason than fate. Had he been the first one he'd found, Jonson believed he would have been the Warmaster. The Lion believed that Horus would inevitably be defeated and that the Emperor would need to choose a new Warmaster very quickly if the Great Crusade was to continue. He asked for Perturabo's support. The two Primarchs reached an understanding -- Jonson granted permission for the Iron Warriors to take possession of the siege guns at their convenience -- on one condition, of course. Perturabo raised an eyebrow, inquisitively. Jonson made his brother promise that the siege weapons would be put to good use. Of that, Perturabo assured, they most certainly would be utilized in that regard.

Thramas Crusade

Following the victory of the Drop Site Massacre, Horus called a meeting of the Primarchs of 8 of the Traitor Legions (minus the participation of the Alpha Legion's Primarch Alpharius) aboard his flagship, the Vengeful Spirit. Five of the Primarchs, including four who had fought at Istvaan V, met in person, including Horus, Fulgrim, Angron, Mortarion and Lorgar. Three appeared through the use of hololithic emitters that transmitted their signals through the Warp, including Perturabo, Night Haunter and Magnus the Red, who had only recently joined the Traitors after the Scouring of Prospero when the broken remains of his XVth Legion had been transported by Tzeentch into the Eye of Terror to the Planet of the Sorcerers. The Thousand Sons, bitter at what they perceived as their betrayal by the Emperor, now willingly became the ninthTraitor Legion. The council of Traitor Primarchs made their plans for the next step in their war against the Emperor and then each Legion went its way according to its assigned role. The Night Haunter's fleet had already departed, bound for the planet of Tsagualsa, a remote world in the Eastern Fringe that lay shrouded in the shadow of a great asteroid belt. From there, the Night Lords' terror troops would begin a campaign of genocide against the Imperial strongholds of Heroldar and Thramas, star systems that, if not taken, would leave the flanks of the Warmaster's strike on Terra vulnerable to attack. This campaign would also delay the Dark Angels Legion from reinforcing the Loyalists. The Thramas System was of particular importance, as it comprised a number of MechanicumForge Worlds whose loyalty was still to the Emperor.

This bitterly contested campaign, known as the Thramas Crusade, dragged on for nearly three standard years. In an attempt to sway his brother Lion El'Jonson to Horus' cause, the Night Haunter left a deep-void beacon in the patrol path of one of the Dark Angels' outrider vessels. The beacon was set to transmit coordinates in advance, so that the two Primarchs could meet and parley on the planet of Tsagualsa. Night Haunter wanted to break his former brother either mentally, physically or both to obtain his objectives. The Primarchs were accompanied by two warriors from their personal Honour Guards to the parley. The meeting began amicably enough between the two as they conversed with relative civility. This amity lasted only until the Night Haunter slandered El'Jonson, and in return the Lion struck his former brother. This melee further degenerated into an all-out brawl between the two sides. As the Night Haunter strangled the life out of El'Jonson, one of the Dark Angels Honour Guardsmen ran his sword through the Night Haunter's back, saving his Primarch's life. Eventually both Legions sent reinforcements in response to this incident. Each side dragged away their respective Primarchs from the scene of the combat. Both Primarchs survived this brutal confrontation and went on to continue the contest between their Legions for control of the Aegis Sub-sector.

Battle of Perditus

Three years later, in 008.M31, the Dark Angels receive intelligence from an Astropathic message from the nearby Perditus System, they act accordingly and move to intercept. Upon arrival, they interrupted the month-long conflict between the Iron Hands 98th Clan-Company, led by Casalir Lorramech and a large Death Guard contingent, led by First Captain Calas Typhon. Both sides had been fighting over an ancient sentient device, known as the Tuchulcha Engine. This device was a part of a triumvirate of similar sentient devices (another being the Ouroboros and a third, unnamed engine) which when combined could create temporal rifts that bridges space and time. On its own, the Tuchulcha was capable of precise and extremely efficient Warp jumps. Faced with the prospect of fighting the entirety of the much larger Ist Legion fleet, both sides retreated from the planet's surface at the Lion's request.

Wary of both sides' motives, especially First Captain Typhon's, the Lion prevented the device from falling into the Death Guard's hands for his own nefarious ends. He then proceeded to serve his own ambitions and requisitioned the device for his own use. The Lion then ordered the destruction of Perditus, much to the consternation of both commanders. He then used the Tuchulcha Engine to make a Warp jump, but during their sojourn through the Immaterium, they were beset by Daemons. The Lion re instituted his Legion's Librarirans to fight these nefarious warp-spawned creatures. As this was in direct violation of the Emperor's Decree Absolute at Nikaea, this caused a dispute within the Legion, that eventually came to head, when the enraged Lion slew Chaplain Nemiel. During the height of the battle, the Lion encountered the Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, known as Fateweaver, who attempted to convert the Primarch to the cause of the Ruinous Powers, but failed miserably, as he had nothing to sway the Lion to their cause. The Lion told the foul creature that absolute loyalty to the Emperor was reward enough, and impaled the Lord of Change through its black heart heart, and quipped whether he had 'foreseen' his actions.

Hunting the Night Haunter

Utilizing the Tuchulcha Engine a second time, the Dark Angels were able to execute a meticulously planned ambush on the Night Lords' fleet while it was in transit across the Tsgualsa sub-sector that saw the back of the Night Lords Legion broken and their Primarch mortally wounded after having faced his brother El'Jonson once again in mortal combat. Thanks to the skilled coordination and superb execution by the Lion, the Night Lords fleet was devastated, losing dozens of capital ships and approximately one-quarter of their Legion fleet to the Dark Angels' assault. Unfortunately, the remainder of the Night Lords fleet fled the Dark Angels' wrath, taking their critically wounded Primarch with them before the Lion could finally end his wretched life.

Unfortunately, the remainder of the Night Lords fleet fled the Dark Angels' wrath, while the recently recovered Night Haunter, First Captain Sevatar and the elite Night Lords Atramentar Terminators led a desperate boarding assault action upon the Dark Angels' flagship Invincible Reason. This resulted in the death of all but a dozen of the Atramentar and the capture of Sevatar and the remaining survivors. Konrad Curze fled El'Jonson's wrath, evading the Dark Angels for months, stalking the shadows within the bowels of the mighty capital ship, and continued to wreak terror and chaos amongst the mortal crew. He also killed every hunter-killer team sent by the Lion to hunt him down. After losing several squads of Dark Angels, the Lion himself took up the hunt for Curze, stalking him throughout the Invincible Reason for the next sixteen weeks. However, he could never find his elusive brother Primarch. At some point, the remaining Night Lords captives somehow managed to affect their escape and fled into the void.

Arrival to Ultramar & Imperium Secundus

With the torrential Ruinstorm raging, blocking out the light of the Astronomican and causing warp travel to be all but impossible, the Imperium was effectively cut in half. The Dark Angels come to the realization that they are unable to return to Terra to assist in its defense, even with the advent of the Tuchulcha Engine. Miraculously, they managed to lock onto the beacon of the strange alien device known as the Pharos, on the world of Sotha, which guides the Ist Legion fleet safely through the Warp and to Ultramar's capital world of Macragge. There, they were greeted by Roboute Guilliman and Sanguinius, whose Blood Angels Legion were also guided to the Realms of Ultramar by the Pharos.

The three Primarchs were instrumental in the foundation of the "Imperium Secundus" as a means of continuing the fight against the Traitors and securing the Emperor's great work. Guilliman proclaims Sanguinius as the rightful heir to the Emperor and declares him the new ruler of Imperium Secundus. Lion El'Jonson is made Lord Protector of this new empire of humanity and supreme commander over all its military forces, a title that is similar to that of Warmaster. Unfortunately, the foundation of Imperium Secundus is marred when Curze escapes from the Invincible Reason and rampages across Macragge, intent on spreading as much terror and chaos as he can. Eventually, both Guilliman and the Lion confront the cornered Curze. Their attempt to kill him are unsuccessful as the Night Lords Primarch had laid a cunning trap. He brings down an entire chapel upon the two Primarchs through the use of planted explosives and flees the scene. Guilliman and the Lion are only saved through the direct intervention of the Loyalist Iron Warriors Warsmith Barabas Dantioch, who was communicating with Guilliman at the time of the attack, through a portal that was opened by the Pharos. On instict, the Warsmith reached through the portal and pulled the two Primarchs to safety on Sotha.

Battle of Zepath

Feeling directly responsible for the Night Haunter's rampage on Macragge, the Lion continued to obsessively hunt his wayward former brother for the next two years. In 011.M31, El'Jonson eventually is able to trace a slim lead on Curze's whereabouts to the Zepath System, which had since fallen to the Word Beaers and World Eaters forces during their Shadow Crusade. Farith Redloss, the lieutenant-elect of the Dark Angels' Dreadwing, was charged with leading the hunt for Konrad Curze upon the world of Zepath. The Dark Angels quickly uncovered the horrors perpetrated by the Word Bearers for their dark rituals. Eventually, the Dark Angels took part in multiple engagements against the forces of both Traitor Legions, which culminated in the capital city of Numentis. The Traitor forces were utterly annihilated by the victorious Dark Angels and the world was left in the care of its surviving population.

Exile of the Lion

Continuing his obsessive hunt for the elusive Night Haunter, the Lion and Guilliman continuously clashed over policies, especially in regards to the security of Imperium Secundus, and how best to deal with rebels on Macragge, that the Lion was certain Curze had something to do with. Following a suicide bombing of an Astartes convoy, the Lion used the Ist Legion to establish martial law on Macragge. Certain that Curze was hiding within the rebellious Illyrium region, the Lion advocated the use of a massive orbital saturation bombardment of the region to ensure Curze's death. Facing resistance from both Emperor Sanguinius and Guilliman, the Lion instead, opted to deploy his Legion's Dreadwing in order to flush out Curze and the rebels.

During an attack on the city of Alma Mons, the Lion finally cornered the elusive Night Lords Primarch and the two came to blows. After a brutal confrontation, the Lion eventually emerged victorious, and questions his brother why he had turned away from the Emperor, in which Curze simply replied, 'why not?'. Curze went on to explain that there was a monster in his head that he could not stop. Though he finally had Curze at his mercy, the Lion couldn't bring himself to kill his brother, and instead pummeled him again. He then ripped off Curze's backpack from his battle-plate and then lifted him over his head, and then brutally brought him down across his knee, breaking Curze's spine and paralyzing him. The Lion then brought the grievously wounded Curze before Sanguiniun and Guilliman to stand trial.

A Triumvirate was later held, where Curze defended his actions, but refused to admit his guilt. Since each of the Primarchs had been created to perform a specific function, Curze was merely acting according to his own nature, and therefore had committed no crimes. The Night Lords Primarch then further divided Guilliman and the Lion by accusing the latter of secretly ordering orbital bombardment in direct violation of Guilliman's orders. Enraged, the Lion sought to kill Curze, but was halted by the words of Sanguinius and Guilliman snatched El'Jonson's Lion Sword and broke the blade across his armoured thigh. El'Jonson was furious, but Sanguinius dismissed the Lord Protector and ending the Triumvirate. The Lion was then banished from Imperium Secundus. Taking his leave, the Dark Angels withdrew from Macragge only hours later. Standing in the chamber of the Tuchulcha Engine aboard the Invincible Reason, the Lion brooded over recent events, he questioned his actions over the course of the last few decades -- the banishment of Luther, the death of Nemiel as well as other decisions he had come to regret.

As the Dark Angels made their final preparations to depart back to Caliban, the Lion went back to the Tuchulcha Engine's chamber. He then ordered the device to teleport himself and Holguin, 'Deathbringer', the voted-lieutenant of the Deathwing, back to Macragge. As Sanguinius prepared to execute Curze for his crimes, both the Lion and his lieutenant teleported directly into the chamber and told Sanguinius to stop. As troops entered the room, demanding the Lion to surrender, El'Jonson explained his reasons for the intrusion. He reasoned that Curze had the ability to see precognitive visions of potential futures, and repeated the Night Haunter's claim that his death would one day come at the hands of an assassin sent by the Emperor. If this was true, the Lion reasoned, than it was proof that the Emperor was still alive. Sanguinius knew the Lion's explanation rang true, as he recognized that his own precognitive visions of his inevitable death would also eventually come to pass. When Guilliman demanded to know what would become of Curze, the Lion knelt before his two brothers and promised that he would be Curze's jailer.

Return to Caliban

Jonson, wracked with grief over the inability of his Dark Angels to reach Terra in time to prevent the fall of the Emperor during the Siege of Terra at the end of the Horus Heresy, returned to Caliban to reinforce his Dark Angels and recover from the shock of the Heresy. When the star ships arrived in Calibanite orbit, they were fired upon by a savage salvo of defensive fire from the surface. The fleet pulled back and Jonson tried to find out what was happening. He learned from a merchant ship that Luther had poisoned the minds of the Space Marine garrison on the world and taken control. It could only be seen by Jonson as the taint of Chaos. Jonson's fury was let loose and the planet suffered. He ordered a systematic orbital bombardment of the planet, to rid the world of Chaos for all time.

The planet burned and its defenses were whittled down to nothing. Jonson led his forces personally against the defenders who had taken refuge in the Order's Fortress-Monastery. Jonson found Luther and saw him to be completely corrupted by Chaos, almost nothing of his old friend had survived. Luther, now a Chaos Champion, had been elevated to a strength equal to that of Jonson by the Chaos Gods and the two met in a combat the likes of which would not be seen again. They leveled the monastery around them but the planet was also taking a heavy toll. The bombardment began to crack the surface of the planet, the Dark Angels in orbit unable to see the damage they were doing.

Final Battle

The battle between Luther and Jonson was titanic, but ended with a psychic attack which appeared to mortally wound Jonson. Luther then realized what he had done, as if a veil of deceit had been lifted from in front of his eyes. He fell to the floor, unwilling to fight any more, but it was too late for Jonson. The enraged Ruinous Powers of Chaos realized they had lost again, and sent a massive Warp storm to wrack the surface of the planet. It then broke apart under the strain, destroyed all but for the monastery of the Order which had been protected by potent defensive force-fields. When the Dark Angels descended to what remained of Caliban, little more than an asteroid upon which stood the Order's fortress-monastery, they searched the ruins and found Luther mumbling that Jonson had been taken by the Watchers in the Dark and would return one day and forgive Luther for his sins. The Dark Angels could not find any trace of their Primarch. The rest of the Dark Angels who had been converted by Luther to the worship of Chaos were sucked into the Warp and scattered across the galaxy. From that time forward they were named the Fallen Angels or simply the Fallen.

Fate of the Lion

During his duel with Luther on Caliban, Lion El'Jonson suffered a severe psychic blow which left him mortally wounded. He was then briefly pulled into the raging Warp vortex. Luther survived the contest, but proved mentally unhinged and was taken prisoner by the Dark Angels. He was placed into a stasis cell deep within the bowels of The Rock (the remains of the Order's mightiest fortress-monastery and all that was left of their world Caliban), to contemplate his crimes against the Chapter's Primarch, his continued existence a secret known only to each successive Supreme Grand Master of the Dark Angels, whose cell can only be accessed through the use of the Sword of Secrets, the Chapter artifact which is the mark of the Supreme Grand Master's office. Jonson, who had been briefly spirited away into the Warp during the destruction of Caliban, eventually emerged and was taken into a hidden and unreachable chamber deep within the heart of The Rock by the Watchers in the Dark and placed into stasis to keep him alive. This is a secret known only to the Emperor of Mankind Himself who, despite his living death, still sees all upon the Golden Throne. Even the Supreme Grand Master of the Chapter is not privy to this last and greatest secret of the Dark Angels. Some amongst the Dark Angels whisper that one day the Lion will return to lead one final Crusade intended to achieve the Dark Angels' greatest victory for Mankind and finally bring justice and redemption to the remaining Fallen Angels. None know that this legend has more truth to it than they realize, or that their lost Primarch now sleeps peacefully at the heart of their own fortress-monastery.

Source: http://warhammer40k.wikia.com

#horus heresy #warhammer 40k #adepta sororitas #adeptus mechanicus #Adeptus custodes #adeptus astartes #adeptus arbites #Astra Militarum #officio assassinorum #Adeptus Astra Telepathica

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magdalenam1-blog1 · 5 years ago

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Event Management Software Market Size 2020 – Industry Challenges, Key Vendors, Drivers, Trends and Forecast 2026

Verified Market Research recently added a research report, the Event Management Software Market Research Report 2020, to its growing repository. The research report discusses the future of the Event Management Software market. It highlights the drivers and constraints and highlights the underground currents that define threats and opportunities. The research report is intended to provide readers with a thorough assessment of the factors affecting the Event Management Software market. To accomplish the same purpose, analysts have used SWOT analysis and Porter’s five forces analysis. These ratings are based on unbiased opinions of market experts.

Global Event Management Software market was valued at USD 5.70 Billion in 2017 and is projected to reach USD 13.79 Billion by 2025, growing at a CAGR of 11.7% from 2018 to 2025.

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Oracle Corporation

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Cisco Systems

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Middle East and Africa (GCC countries and Egypt)

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How big will the market for Event Management Software be in 2026?

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How will the market situation change within the coming years?

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What is the growth perspective of the global Event Management Software market

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rachel136 · 5 years ago

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The Global Event Management Software market was valued at USD 5.70 Billion in 2017 and is projected to reach USD 13.79 Billion by 2025, growing at a CAGR of 11.7% from 2018 to 2025.