#[Don't they eat rotten... dead... stuff though??]

[obrien4321]

Also want to kill everyone in Mandela

The vultures? Want to kill everyone?

[onejellyfishplease]

BEHOLD! my new TMNT iteration!

tmnt: Strained Eyes

In this iteration, much like rottmnt, all of the turtles have super powers. however, there is a little catch. while the rottmnt turtle's powers suit their soul, Strained Eye's turtles... don't.

(please ignore the fact that Mikey doesnt really look like a spotted pond turtle, i came up with the design first and had to find a turtle species second)

So! Mikeys powers basically allow him to cause every thing he touches to rot/decompose/desintergrate. he does have some control, but not reliably.

And though he is a good cook, there is a 50/50 chance that you will end up eating mouldy/rotten food. but all the other times it will be delicious.

he (obviously) has insecurities about touch, he is very aware that he could very easily kill someone with just one touch.

he can also grow mushrooms on command -he can also grow them on his shell which freaks out his brothers a lot.

also hes not actually blind in one eye! its mostly just cosmetic.

Up next we have Donnie! compared to Mieky hes a very brightly coloured boy!

his power is illusions! they can be incredibly lifelike. the problem is, These illusions can be permanent if Donnie doesnt dispel them, and sometimes are summoned only by his subconscious. So Donnie can struggle with figuring out if something is real or not.

The only senses his illusions cannot mimic are touch and smell (and taste) so he is usually extremely tactile, holding onto his brothers to assure himself that theyre real and not just a projection of his mind. he covers a lot of stuff in his lab (and his brothers) with strong smelling perfumes as well.

application wise- he uses his powers in tandem with his machines to make incredibly realistic looking androids. example: robot cat that looks like real cat. robot dragon that looks like REAL dragon, etc etc. he can also use them to appear human and turn invisible. (he can expand this to all his brothers) but he still hasnt gotten down the art of human expressions, so when ever he appears human he looks quite uncanny when he talks.

It's Leo!!

now Leo is ~battery powered~ his powers basically allow him to absorb energy straight from the source, such as absorbing the electricity off of an electric wire, or even sucking the energy from a person. or eating batteries.

an unfortunate side affect (depending on how you look at it) is that Leo doesnt need to sleep. ever. as long as he keeps absorbing energy then he's completely fine! and the more electricity/energy he absorbs the faster/stronger he gets! he also thinks faster! coming up with excellent strategies on the fly!

however- the same is true of the other way around, when Leo runs out of energy (which he does often- hes VERY bad at judging how much he has left) he will start to get more lethargic, his cognitive funtions will slow down and his short term memory will start to degrade.

If he completly runs out of energy his heart stops and he dies.

but dont worry! you just need to zap him with more energy and hell get right back up again (Donnie has a defibrillator just for Leo). though its best not to leave him in that state for long. because like that he is still functionally a dead body.

And finally we have Raph!

Raph breaths fire. a very simple power, in fact he can even hold his breath for hours apon end and his skin is extremely tough! theres basically no side effects too!

Hes so lucky compared to his brothers, having a power that suits him perfectly and doesnt mess him up in the head.

because of this, Raph has kinda moulded himself into the hyper aggressive mom friend, making sure they dont all run themselves into the ground because of the drawbacks to their powers.

he still has anger issues too <3

[woodle-isbae]

Joost klein HC

Joost klein x black!fem!reader

Warnings:Not proofread , can be read by non black people idm , just Fluff and random stuff

A/n: heyy 🧍🏾‍♀️...I'd like to inform everyone I will be taking request , just be sure to read my intro on what I will and will be writing, and don't be scared to mention characters that I didn't 😕❗️

~the type of person who would sit outside in the sun with you as you get your daily sunlight consumption, even though he knows he's gonna get sunburnt , he just wants to see you in the sun

~helps you choose lace and braiding hair colours just to end up deciding on an ashy blonde

~he's definitely picked up your slang and the way you say certain things

"Oh yeah righttt? Bet" with the sassiest eye roll and shoving his hand infront of your face

~looks you dead in the eye as he eats an onion because you know he's gonna try and give you a kiss , he would chase you around the place calling for you to kiss him

"C'monnn it's just a kiss!Gewoon een kus!" just a kiss

"Nee Joost, laat my alleen!" No Joost , leave me alone!

~he takes you to the studio with him so you can judge his songs even though you like them anyways

~he will have you come on stage after performances just to show you off , after some of his fans complained about you guys

~will try to atleast have a photo/frame of you in his videos/photo dumps , doesn't care if it's for a small bit , he'll even add a lil 'peep y/n in the back 💕'

~loves paying for your nails since he chooses the design and also because the feeling of them running over his skin and through his hair 😖

~I feel like you guys would definitely have a shared wardrobe, wearing eachothers clothes like him wearing your ties , pins and sometimes snatching a lip gloss for himself 🤕

~definitely tried to learn your home language , since you already knew dutch , he felt like he wanted to be able to surprise you with that (this is self indulgent)

~and best belive that Shea butter lotion + coconut body wash combo has him swooned , always on you just to smell it

~randomly squeezes your ass and runs away while giggling because it's funny to him

~knows your more into house parties than bars so he would go with you or offer to say inside and relax it works all the time

~listens to all your girl gossip not because he feels he should be listening but because he's just as messy as you 🤥

"No way..why would she even say that?"

While having his nails glossed and a face mask on

~his credit card is yours aswell, mainly because you pay for his flights and so on but because he wants to spoil you rotten 🤑❗️

~picked up on your music taste and would randomly play Erykah Badu or Steve lacy , giving him that stank face of approval

"Okay white boyyyyy.."

------>

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.l.

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

_______________

~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” Waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh… What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. Faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” She stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate in sight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” Taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm… If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now… What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” He turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. Various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them… Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoth's home.”

Of course it is. “Oh… Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” Other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” His voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. “Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days.” Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them…”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” She hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” He nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoth's got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

[ms-hells-bells]

This doesn't mean to be a value judgment, but I was just wondering, if you're not encouraging its production and the animal is already dead, who are you doing this for? I know you can't eat animal products anymore, but when it comes to stuff like secondhand, I don't see any material benefit. The only think I can possibly think of is that you're doing it to avoid guilt and other negative feelings for yourself and I don't wanna accuse you of that. If there is a benefit I totally missed it :((((

because with the mindset of veganism, you end up viewing that stuff as not things for us to use, but dead stuff. leather is disgusting. with wool, we are a sheep country, i see how roughly they're shorn, their nasty, rotten, cut off tails, getting culled early in their life. it's just so offputting. it's why i didn't eat the brownies, i was more just curious about the thoughts of others. but like i said, this is my personal line and conviction. if other vegans want to buy second hand stuff, then by all means (although it seems unnecessary if there are second hand non animal alternatives. then it's probably better to stick to those as a matter of maintaining the mental idea of animals /=/ products. i don't think too much about that though).

so, yes, it's to avoid feeling guilt and other negative feelings, which is not a bad thing, it shows that i have strong empathy and morals. i also don't drink alcohol on principle of the mental and physical effects, i wouldn't put alcohol in my mouth for the taste, and then spit it out to avoid being affected. it's always easier, as human beings, to have a strict line, rather than test where the line is with 'what if's and 'is this okay's and 'what about in this scenarios's. i'm happy to think about and answer those, but i would never try to find a situation to justify using animal products in my current situation. i don't need to, there are alternatives, and i myself am happy where i am.

[mylifeisweirdok]

31, 10, 12, 13

OOO YES ok let's do this in numeric order

10) has a written piece ever haunted me?

I in particular write some rather ~disturbing~ dead doves on AO3 (no I won't drop my user but if you find me, message me to win the contest!) and have created a small name for myself in horror poetry books. For my works, you can't not be haunted by what I write... The graphic, the terrible, the unwanted. I write not what comes naturally, but what is deeply despised.

My first "big" story to really become a hit was a story about a group of teenagers being trapped under layers and layers of broken and collapsed buildings after an earthquake. They were in the dark, with exponentially decreasing oxygen, the only sounds being created were by the settling of rubble and their friends rattled breaths. The MC fell asleep at one point (thought to be dead) and when they woke up they were topside and being treated. They recovered physically (slowly) and helped support their friends who were in the process of recovering, one specifically who had a pipe through their shoulder.

But they were so hungry.

All the time.

They made so much food and kept eating more and more and more. They became an amazing cook because they were starving. Their friends continued to praise their cooking skills as they grew and but they were hollow. They had the most rapid, drawn out, gradual decent into madness, and the story described every detail of it.

In the end, they never had escaped the rubble.

An obvious twist, even as you read it. You knew the MC never got the chance to escape. You knew what they were actually smelling when the MC opened the fridge to find rotten food. You knew, in the pits of your satiated yet somehow uncomfortable stomachs, why the MC was hungry.

You knew what the MC was actually eating, when they first got a bite to eat topside.

You knew what the MC was feeding their friends, when they were begging for comfort in the hospital.

And yet you, the reader, kept reading. You knew what the end result was,

and you

still finished it.

All in all my favorite work I've written so far, but alas that one hits differently in the back of my mind.

12) what three wishes would you ask a genie for?

The ability to separate water from other substances without physical repercussions, an RV skeleton that is in pristine condition, and a wifi router that provides the best wifi in any location.

I eventually want to travel the mainland Americas and explore inter/national parks. And hike the PCT! Love the outdoors. Plus I grew up with a dad who never quite knew what learning level I was at and would rant about certain things going on environmentally, so I was raised with an,,, eco friendly? mindset. If I had the powers, I would simply separate the water from the pollutants, and hopefully not get hunted by any governing body of power for doing so. And of course the wifi thing is fairly straightforward to me.

13) What is a subject hard to write about?

All of them! Words are hard

Nah but seriously? I can't go near anything inherently sexual I gross myself out and my intrusive thoughts eat it up. Consented stuff and not I am viscerally repulsed by any and all of my past attempts into the field of smut.

Any other subjects...? (I'm thinking) I guess romance too, unless it's really drawn out and vital to the storyline (I've only written a handful or romance works, I tend to stick to platonic and familial stuffs). In short I torture my characters, not a lot of room for romance in there ya know?

31) Write a short love letter to your readers!

My readers,

I apologize for any and all hurt I have done unto your beloved blorbos. I don't apologize for writing them though; when I open my website or my email and I see all the reviews left on my works I am filled with many emotions unnameable.

I adore your commitment to reading through my DDDNEs and smile at every comment saying you don't know how you finished it but did anyway. I cherish every notification letting me know my book has sold another copy to someone out there, looking for a story of hurt hurt hurt and finally a mite bit of comfort.

Does it make you treasure what you have, reading the torture I put fictional characters through monthly? Does it make you hold onto the life you live, allowing yourself to finally settle into your day to day life? Do any of my stories sit in the back of your mind, waiting to be remembered in the foggiest ways, so that you may dredge your way back to my works and lose yourself once again within my pages?

I hold all of my readers in the highest regards, and hope that every story of mine read is another person's motivation to keep going, for once you know the worst thing that may occur everything else seems much better in the end.

I love you all in the same way a college student loves coffee; you are the only thing keeping my blood pumping and my mind racing.

Thank you ✨✨

[abs0luteb4stard]

FRENEMIES?

Had a Nightmare. Was depressive. Been awake 4 hours already.

Someone I thought was alright in school days, is a fairly good success in a precarious career that I was passionate about, before it was evident my unseen physical disabilities were going to make any attempt impossible for me.

I always like him, seemed like a good dude. He got a lot of mistreatment behind his back by other football kids on his teams because he was basically the one black kid in a predominantly white school. I'm sure it had a bunch of challenges. He never really said anything I'm aware of. He was a big dude, so I think it would've been rare if anyone was dumb enough to be racist or mean to his face. No doubt in my mind though he probably dealt with things in some way.

But for some reason he didn't seem to like me after 7th grade. A few times we talked about some mutual interests at a cafeteria table in 7th grade. I thought I had broken through his wall he seemed to have up, But he never really talked much with me again.

A few times he made fun of my voice when it was changing. But I just shrugged it off. He didn't seek me out to hurt me in any way. It was more of a joke than being rotten. Kids stuff. But I just got this cold shoulder from him implicitly.

So I had this nightmare where I'm talking to my dad about how I wasted my life not going after the career this guy did. Pro-wrestling. I had too many physical and mental problems.

It was a very depressive dream. My dad's dead. This whole thing, I didn't think seeing him blowing it up really well would have some weighty pain to it. Yeah I'm little envious, but I am totally amazed and intrigued he's somebody I know as much as I knew him. Ya know?

I also wish I could ask him now, what was about me that he switched from giving me 1 instance of friendliness and the rest of the time it was cold? Was it just happenstance or my perception and shyness?

Was it something I said? I didn't talk with him long enough to say anything to offend him I don't think? Or that I was too nerdy? Or people's rumors about me? There was a lot of homophobia in school? It's one of the school mysteries that's always bothered me. 24 years.

I'm just ecstatic he's where he wants to be at seems. He's so lucky he's had the ability to move on from whatever was eating at him in life in school. I can't imagine how fulfilling it must me.

I'm the opposite. My dad died. Mom's for cancer. I don't have a time machine to try and figure out what happened. I can't help that I was born 2.5 months premature and my physical health has always been a challenge. My mental health and CPTSD from bullying really fucked up my head.

If i had one wish it would be to find out what the hell went wrong that he didn't like me! I truly don't care about our lots in life, as much as why he disliked me after some nice interactions. I mean I used to talk positively to a mutual teacher about him. Even told her these stories in hopes her respected words might get to his ears. Maybe change perceptions about me.

But I guess that's life. You never get that answer or that reconciliation.

But for me, I take things very harshly, very deeply. I'm sure I'm not an angel, and I'm sure we're all moody, angsty teenagers, and first impressions etc. I just really harp on that one relationship that was inexplicably (to my eye) so oddly contentious and changed from light buddies to a brick wall.

Either way i always appreciated he was never a bully, even if he didn't like me or I was just not his cup of tea or something. That's fine.

But he never joined in that I recall. When 20 football guys tripped me and surround me, or number of people that hurt deeply. He was never a face in that crowd.

That might sound dumb, but that small thing meant the world to me. So I am proud he's successful. He was a decent person. He's made it. He deserves it.

[mewtwoandme]

Has Newtwo had to resort to eating rotten berries and meat? Didn't Mewtwo have to eat the same stuff when stealing human food wasn't an option?

I don't think she has ever been that desperate for food where she'd eat something rotten. But she's likely had to eat certain berries and such that she didn't like but had to eat anyway if there was nothing else around. I like to think it built up her digestive immunity.

I don't think Mewtwo ever had to resort to eating rotten things either, not like he'd ever let himself stoop so low. Back when he was traveling, food was usually always available to him more often then not, cause mostly he'd prefer stealing from small mini markets or convenient stores in the dead of night or the early hours of the morning. Though Mewtwo didn't really eat that much back then anyways, so either way I don't think he ever viewed food as an issue.

[sanyu-thewitch05]

The Academia Life

White Uniforms

Princely Behavior

Side Effects

The Little Things

Hoarding

A/N: Sorry I took so long. I went on vacation for nine days. I also want to try my luck on making original stories again, so I'll be taking a hiatus so I can plan everything out. All I will say is that it features a foggy gothic town, a vampire in love, and a girl who eventually has to escape the bloodsucker.

Idia wakes Yuu up and brings her to the cafeteria for breakfast. Idia and Yuu sit with Ace and Deuce while eating their food. 

"Have you noticed the Diasomnia members have been showing up less and less?" Ace asks, looking at the lack of green in the cafeteria.

"We're not thinking about that right now. I'm not putting Yuu under any more stress," Idia says, trying to redirect the conversation.

"I know, but Malleus has been borrowing and buying a lot of stuff lately. Plus, I'm disgusted to say this, but he's starting to smell," Deuce states, shivering at the memory of PE class with Malleus. "Not only that but Sebek has bug bites all over him. We should investigate."

"No-Yuu? Yuu, where are you?!" Idia exclaims, not noticing that Yuu has run off with Ace, Deuce, and Grim to Diasomnia. "Why won't that girl listen to me?!"

When Ace and the gang get to Diasomnia, they pound on the doors begging for someone to open them.

"Hey! Open up!" Ace yells, banging on Diasomnia's doors. "You know what, fuck it. We'll enter through a window. Deuce, give me a boost."

Deuce puts Ace on his shoulders while Yuu watches from behind. Ace crawls into an open window and pulls Deuce, Yuu, and Grim inside.

"Holy Crap! There's nothing but junk!" Yuu exclaims in shock, looking at all the clothes, trinkets, and jewels stacked upon each other in the hallways. "You don't think there's something in the trash, do you?!"

A rotten soup can falls onto Yuu's head, and its contents drip onto her. Yuu dreadfully looks above her and sees a pale white hand in the mountains of trash.

"AAAAHHHH! OHMYGOD! A DEAD BODY!" Yuu shrieks, hugging Grim and backing away. 

The body moves, and trash starts to fall from the mountain of junk. 

"AAAAAHHH! ANOTHER ZOMBIE!" Yuu screams, running away with Deuce and Ace. "Oh no! It's got me!" 

"Quiet down, would you? It's early in the morning," Silver says, releasing Yuu's hand. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We decided to investigate when the Diasmonia members stopped coming to school. Though it's clear, there are more pressing issues," Yuu answers, looking at her surroundings. "Why is there trash everywhere?"

"Shh-shh! Don't let Malleus or Sebek hear you! Malleus started going through the possessive part of dragon puberty. We thought he would get possessive over you, to be honest, but instead, he started a hoard of treasure that has now spread," Silver explains, "Don't even try talking sense into him. He gets upset."

"Where's everyone else?" Ace asks, getting frustrated.

"Either stuck in the trash or locked in their rooms," Silver responds.

"I got it! Silver, you wake Malleus up. Deuce, Ace, and Grim, you guys stay here," Yuu exclaims, the lightbulb in her head going off.

~~~~~~

"So, the princes at RSA want to meet me?" Malleus asks, walking down to Royal Sword Academy. 

"Yes, they want to meet the famous future ruler of Briar Valley," Yuu lies, hoping the princes follow her plan.

I hope Malleus is distracted long enough for Ace and Deuce to help clean out Diasomnia.

"I highly doubt that, but I'll take your word for it," Malleus responds, making Yuu nervous.

"We're here! You wait outside while I tell them you've arrived," Yuu says, rushing inside to tell everyone her plan. "Everyone, I'm ba- what happened?!"

"Your bodyguard happened. He tore up the school looking for you," Ambrose explains, fixing Chris's damage. " Anyway, Neige has all your school work in your room."

"Listen, I know you guys are the help the desperate and poor type, so I need you to help me help this desperate person. Please, help me distract Malleus so my friends can clean out his hoard?" Yuu pleads, getting on her knees. "I swear it'll probably count as community service."

"Sure, you can never help too many people!" Neige exclaims, doing his signature smile.

"I don't think that's true, but I'll take it. Malleus is outside. Are there any gargoyle structures on campus?"

"We have humanoid gargoyles."

"That's even better. Everyone, go, go, go!"

Yuu opens the doors, and Malleus walks in, squinting his eyes from the bright decor.

"So this is what Royal Sword Academy looks like, it's so bright," Malleus says, blocking the gleam with his hands. "Well, what activities do you have planned?"

"We're seeing the humanoid gargoyles. Neige, lead the way, please," Yuu answers, holding onto Malleus's arm.

"Please don't take all day!" Yuu mentally yells.

~~~~~~~

"AAH! Lilia's possessed by one of the spirits in the amulets!" Silver screams, terrified at his father hitting on Epel.

"Why is your father hitting on me?" Epel whimpers, trying to pick up trash while running away from Lilia. "Help! He's got an unhealthy obsession with me!"

"Speak for yourself! I accidentally cracked some cat necklace and Rook won't leave me alone. Not like he did before he was here helping Diasomnia, but this takes it to a new low. What the-that bastard cut my hair!" Leona shrieks, whipping his back and forth to find Rook. 

"This is a disaster, and it's only been 5 minutes. I should've known this wouldn't go well," Vil gripes, rubbing his forehead. "I hope Yuu is having better luck than us."

"Vil! Help me! Make Lilia go away!" Epel screams, hiding behind Vil.

~~~~~~

"I didn't know your school had so many gargoyles! Never have I been so delighted!" Malleus squeals, looking at the garden of gargoyles.

"There's my baby!" Chris yells, running out of the pushes and hugging Yuu. "I'm glad to see you back at school!"

"Oh, it's you. I thought you and your partner left..." Malleus scowls, looking at Chris.

Tag list: @nai17 @saire00 @youdrinksoupandeatwater @hipsterteller @animeketsu-yander @r-0-tt-3-n-m-1-lk @naughtybodypillow @nightmare7644 @animepikagirl @curatornil @leabbmao @kairiko @kousaka-ayumu @meepizumi @lizzileth @depressed-bitchy-demon @plaguelingvesper @mythicbiotch @enrydice @mimisworl @recklesssketches @ann0nz

[prismadog]

(=^‥^=)

I loved everything you had to say about the Family AU and would definitely enjoy sitting through and reading any and all rambles of anything about the AU. Also, I must agree, I actually choke when I eat food skins but even if I didn't have a condition that made it hard to eat food skins, I really don't like the texture and I agree with not liking food skins. I read somewhere that Gnomes can't eat most meats so like I'm sure Shrub could still eat bugs and Zombie flesh, but would she get sick from eating regular meat? Also, how would she approach the topic of Scott, because he's kind of trying to get rid of Xornoth but also is Xornoths brother so does he get to know who she is before everyone else or does she try to ignore him? If you have any headcanons or story ideas you wouldn't mind sharing that won't spoil future plans I can definitely grab myself a snack, some tea, and my soft weighted blanket and binge read anything you have to say all night and ignore my two exams tomorrow. (I'm sick I can ignore school)

Thank you so much for creating so much in this AU and feeding my desperate hyperfixafion mind with your reply to my ask. Have a great day/night/morning!

:3

aw, I'm sorry to hear that you're sick, anon, I hope you get better soon. make sure you drink plenty of fluids, eat some good meals, and get lots of sleep! [sorry if I sound like a mom]

and dude! you're gonna make me cry from all your kind words, thank you, and I'm so glad you're loving the AU! honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm not doing enough with the AU but I'm working on it - I've already started writing a prologue of sorts for it! [haven't posted yet but one day soon, hopefully]

food skins are kinda bad, and for me, it's definitely a texture thing. I didn't know there was a condition that made it difficult to eat food skins, that must suck.

now, I've got quite the ramble in store for you, anon so I hope you're ready. I think I might've gone a bit off topic when it came to Scott's section but I hope it answers any questions.

-

Food

I hadn't put too much thought into what gnomes eat before until you mentioned that. I did some, not a lot but a few links, research on the subject and it looks like with most people/dnd groups/etc, their gnomes are omnivores that have a similar diet to that of dwarves - so meats mostly with cheese and bread and ale, and maybe vegetables.

so, going off that, I've been considering what the traditional gnome in this world would eat. the gnomes are a part of the Nether and usually live in the forests - both warped and crimson. Shrub herself was found in a crimson forest by Xornoth. the crimson gnomes would most likely have a diet heavy on hoglin meat and mushrooms/vines/sprouts. the warped, on the other hand, wouldn't have as easy access to meat so I imagine their diet would be more vegetarian. now, both types are also kinda like irl fungus themselves in the way that they can get nutrients from dead tissue/creatures, though, they do prefer actual food and will only result to things like rotten flesh if they absolutely need to.

now, for Shrub specifically, since she is inherently a crimson forest gnome, has a diet of meat and mushrooms. but, she was also on her own for some time before Xornoth found her and had to resort to eating other things like zombie flesh and netherbugs [think silverfish or endermites but nether and more beetle-like]. then, Xornoth finds her and starts feeding her golden apples - I don't know how they have access to gapples but they do.

now, she can handle Nether-based foods easy but I imagine, once she's in the Overworld, things might get a bit trickier. there's pigs, which are kind of like hoglins, so I don't think she'd have trouble eating that. but then there's foods like melons and pumpkins and pie and cake and chicken and fish and a bunch of other stuff that's she's never had before.

it would be not only a culture shock, but also a shock to her insides as well, she'd probably end up feeling a bit nauseous every time she tried something new since she's never had it before. Overworld food would take some getting used to, maybe a few weeks, maybe longer, but once she does, there's no stopping her - Shrub has basically a bottomless pit for a stomach.

I can tell you though that Xornoth is very happy that their beloved child is getting the proper nutrients she needs to be healthy and strong. raising her, they were concerned she wasn't eating well enough, but that's hardly their fault, the Nether just doesn't have as many food options.

-

how does Shrub approach the topic of Scott?

now, this topic I have thought quite a bit about - mostly because Scott is one of my favorite content creators, but also because he's a big part of this AU as well. which makes sense since he is Xornoth's brother.

I did talk a bit about Shrub and Scott's first meeting in this post, and a bit about their relationship during the cure-quest in this post, but I never really did much more beyond the basics.

I wanna start off here with this: Shrub, at first, does not know who Scott is other than a reclusive ruler who lives in the elven empire of Rivendell, the same place her father told her about. but that does change over time, specifically after the first few meetings between her, Scott, Katherine, and Gem where they try to work out a cure for the demon.

it's after one of these meetings, when she's talking to Xornoth, that they ask her about Scott. she doesn't know much about him but finds that Xornoth thinks he's Alinar - either reincarnated or just without his memories. - for this here, I'm leaning towards reincarnated due to his past lives on X-Life and 3rd Life servers (and others but I've only seen those two)

the fact that her dad thinks Scott might be his brother changes how she sees him. before, she was okay with the distance - Scott is the definition of recluse, or might I say, he's a hermit? 😏 [sorry, terrible joke] - but now, she wants to get to know him, to find out if he really is Alinar, for her father's sake.

this does clash a bit with what the other rulers want - to defeat the demon for most, to cure the demon for some, and for two others they want the demon to take over. but Shrub, while she knows that there are those who are against Xornoth, she wants to look on the bright side and hope that they can find a cure, even if Scott is Aeor's Champion.

-

Scott Smajor, our beloved Elfking of Rivendell

now for Scott's side of things, his point of view is a little different. I touched on some of this in the posts linked above but I never really went beyond the basics.

as in the one link, Scott finds Shrub cute - she's small and wears an adorable outfit and she's got a nice voice, she's "kewt!". during their first meeting, brought on because Katherine set it up, he learns that this little gnome knows things about Rivendell and about elves - she doesn't say much but it's enough to make him question how she knows about Aeor and some elven customs.

all she tells him is that her dad told her stories growing up, nothing more, nothing less. this piques Scott's interest but he's not going to question it further because that would be rude. he's asked about an elf named Alinar but he has no idea who that is - he'll be more than happy to find out though! so that's what he does after their first meeting, he starts investigating the elf.

there's little information due to countless millennia and poor record keeping, but Scott does find out a few things: Alinar was a winged elf who was blessed by Aeor and granted golden antlers, he fought a demon and won, and he became king because of the two previous facts. what little information he does find, he sends word to Shrub with apologies that there isn't more.

during his investigation, Scott finds that his portal has started leaking into his empire - it's only a little bit so he's not going to worry about it. there's also talk of the other empires being terrorized by a demon but there hasn't been any problems like that in Rivendell so he doesn't worry about that either. he does find it curious though that all of this started after he met Shrub, but it's just coincidence - at least, that's what he tells himself.

the monthly Gatherings show him that some of the rulers aren't doing as well as they normally are, except for King Joey who's gushing about a budding romance and King Sausage who has more magic than he's ever had before. Shrub has been apart of the Gatherings for a few months and has been pretty vocal during them, but with new talks of a demon and ideas of how to get rid of it, Scott notices a change in her: she becomes less talkative and tries to subtly dissuade others from taking action.

Scott finds this curious and tries to talk to Shrub about the demon when they're alone - he quickly finds that she shies away from all talk about the demon and she seems guilty whenever its brought up. after some thinking and detective work, he believes it's because she and the demon came into the world about the same time - maybe she accidentally brought it with her?

but then talks of finding a cure for the corruption come up, as well as, finding a way to defeat the demon for good. with these new topics, he finds Shrub acting even odder - she pushes the idea that instead of killing the demon, they can cure it instead. many of the other rulers are unsure about that but some, like Katherine and Gem, want to find more peaceful solutions so they help Shrub.

Scott joins in as well because hey, this cute little gnome is hiding something but he doesn't know what and he's not going to straight-up ask her about it. shortly after the group starts looking into a cure, Scott gets a visit from the demon - but it's like in canon where Xornoth keeps their distance and only watches. he brings this up to Shrub the next time she visits and she sort of skirts around the topic before changing the subject to something else.

there's many meetings between him, Shrub, Katherine, and Gem where they try to make a cure for not only the corruption plaguing the land but for the demon as well. their attempts always seem to fail on the demon front, and Scott notices that the failure weighs much more heavily on Shrub's shoulders than anyone else's.

at some point after the first few cure-demon meetings, their relationship starts to change from casual friends to close friends - he's not sure what caused Shrub to visit more often or ask more about his life/Rivendell but he's glad for the company. he gets to know more about Shrub too, her life growing up in another realm and about her father - she freely talks about her dad but never says who they are nor does she invite Scott to meet him.

sometime during all of this, Scott comes to the conclusion that Shrub's dad and the demon are one in the same, or at least something close to. of course, he's not going to say anything until either she does or something comes up that requires absolute truth from everyone.

so, he suspects that Xornoth is Shrub's dad, and Shrub is a good friend, what can he do to help her? the cures are failing.

Scott gets the idea to ask Aeor for guidance - it's worked in the past when trouble came to Rivendell, it'll work again. he goes to Aeor's church and he asks for help in curing the demon. Aeor responds in a different way - his god gives him a weapon of unimaginable power that could slay the demon for good, and Aeor blesses him like he once blessed another elf millennia ago.

Scott has been chosen as Aeor's Champion and given access to his past lives, and he's not sure how to handle things - he's at an internal impasse because on one hand, his god has blessed him and on the other, his god wants him to kill his friend's father - the demon who is also his brother???

he stresses out about this new development and Shrub tries to talk to him, as do his other friends, all while Aeor wants him to prepare for war and while his friends continue to fail in making a cure.

it all comes to a head when Katherine and Gem are losing hope and are wanting to quit. Shrub tries to get them to keep going but there's just only so many things they can try and it's looking like a lost cause anyway. they give up and Shrub breaks, she tells the three of them why this means so much to her and why they have to keep trying - the alternative is war and bloodshed because giving up means that they're going to take on her father and kill them, or worse, her dad will kill them.

Katherine and Gem are rightfully shocked and unsure of how to take the information. Scott though, he's had his suspicions and he is the demon's brother, so he steps forward and comforts Shrub and promises her that he won't let that happen. Katherine and Gem question him and find out his own little family secret. they try to make a few more cures for everyone's sake.

of course, things don't go as they want them to - the new cures fail as well and Xornoth takes it upon themself to make the call to war, something that both Scott and Shrub are reluctant for. but Scott stays by her side through it all and she by his.

by the time everyone's standing on the battlefield, Scott knows exactly who he is, was in a past life, and he doesn't want history to repeat itself nor does he want there to be anymore unnecessary bloodshed.

-

this is where the ending of the curing-the-demon post comes in - I'll link it again for reference. hopefully you've read it because I don't think I could write all that here again...there's just so much.

I think that's about all I got in me at the moment - this post has become extremely long, but if you have more questions, feel free to ask!

[seizethesam]

Ode to an Angel-Chapter 1

Summary: You had been alone in this apocalyptic world since you got seperated from your old group and lost your brother. You were on your way to an old metal factory in the hopes of finding your former group when a herd of walkers dragged you in to the woods. You took refuge in a hut, where you met him. You have got a long road ahead and some reckoning to do.

A/N: Hey guys! the first chapter of my brand new Daryl series is finally here. I wrote for Sam Drake for a short period of time and took a looong hiatus. But it is finally time for reunion. I hope you will all enjoy it. Happy reading!!! xx seizethesam

Pearing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader

This chapter’s recommended song is “My Least Favorite Life from “True Detective” by Lera Lynn. 

Youtube   Spotify

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

"So he took his wings, and fled;

Then the morn blushed rosy red.

I dried my tears, and armed my fears

With ten thousand shields and spears. "

-William Blake

The forest was not acting on your behalf. Every tree you dodged was slowing you down, which was the last thing you wanted. The herd of dead was gaining on you, limping their ways towards your direction. You assumed that there were at least thirty of them —and let's be honest, you could not take all of them.

You were exhausted, the only thing you wanted the most right now was laying on a comfortable bed, eating whatever snack you would wish to have. But no... Those days were over a long time ago. Now the only things you had were starvation, exhaustion, loneliness, and a bunch of walking dead that were hungry for your soft flesh.

You had been trying to push your happy remembrances to the back of your memory for a long time now that you started to fear if you had forgotten them. Your mom, dad, brother—No, you would never- could never forget him. He had been your rock since the world went to shit, he had been doing everything in his power to keep you safe.

Now you were alone in god knows where. You were making your way towards the old metal factory outside the city where your former group could’ve settled when the herd came out of nowhere and led you into the woods.

You glanced back at the herd and saw that you have outrun them enough to catch your breath for a second. You stopped and leaned your back against a tree, trying to stabilize your fast-paced breathing. The loud growling of the herd was filling your ears and the smell of the rotten flesh was starting to water your eyes, making your vision blurry. For split second you close your eyes, take a deep breath to motivate yourself to continue running.

Growling sounds of the herd were exploding among the trees and meeting with your ears in a raucous matter. I need to move, now... The earth was rough under your feet despite your shoes. You could not remember how long you had been on the road like this; an excruciatingly uncomfortable backpack on your back, a gun around your thigh, and a knife attached to your belt… The blisters forming on the soles of your feet told you that it had been a long time, real long time. 

You began walking through the dark green trees. The Georgian sun was shining through the tree branches, falling on your skin to warm your flesh. Your legs were failing to carry the weight, and eyes were struggling to stay open due to the lack of energy. You didn’t even remember the last time your belly was full let alone remembering eating something decent. For the past few weeks, your menu consisted of energy bars and crappy canned food.

Today on your lunch was half a can of beans and two sips of water. The sun was getting closer to its horizon as reddish sun rays reflected upon the shiny green tree leaves, the scenery imitated a thousand sunsets all at once. Your heart leaps up at the beauty of the moment. There still are good things. That was what you wanted to believe. 

“There still are good things” you whispered to yourself, a faint smile appeared on your lips as you admired the view. 

While drinking the beauty of the wild, reckless nature, you spotted a brownish-black silhouette from the corner of your eye. When you turned your head towards the figure, you could not help the soft chuckle. It was a cottage. Without thinking twice, you made your way towards the small wooden building which looked like a single room shelter built for hunting trips. You stopped your tracks at the front of the tiny porch. There could be walkers inside, or maybe people.

You needed to be smart, careful, and needed to make most of your weapons; A 9mm with two bullets in its clip, and a hunting knife. You still did not trust yourself with the gun, but you could handle your knife just enough, enough to keep you alive this far. 

Slowly you approached to dusty stairs of the porch, carefully you stepped on the first stair. It did not squeak. You take two more steps for the other two stairs. When the last wooden step raised a surprisingly loud squeal, you heard a familiar snarl inside the old shed. 

Automatically your hand reached for the handle of your knife, taking it out of its holster. You raised the knife in front of you with a defensive pose and slowly made your way towards the tiny window near the door. The window was failing to serve its purpose as it was covered with dust and dirt, you could not see through it. If there was an unfriendly person inside, he could see you wiping the window. You crossed looking through the window off the list.

You leaned your back against the wooden wall, held your breath, and just listened to what was inside, but you didn’t hear anything other than the dead’s annoying snarl. After a few moments, deciding that there is only one biter inside, you reached for the doorknob. 

To your surprise the door was not locked, so you gladly stepped inside. Across the door was a sofa slightly covered with dust, and to your left was a small counter with two small cabinets behind it. The tiny area on the left resembled an unfunctional kitchen, but still, it was something. There behind the counter, a walker was standing, mindlessly trying to move but hitting against the wall.

When you entered the cabin, it turned its attention to your direction and took a few shambling steps towards you. Your knees were shaking, heart pounding against your ribcage. Being face to face with a walker in a tiny space as this cabin sent shivers down your spine. Just like he had taught me, no time to be scared. With that thought, you wrapped your hand around the biter's neck and pushed it against the wall as a contained gruff escaped your mouth, carefully maintaining it at arm's length. You forced the knife with your other hand to its dirty, glassy grey eye, and towards its brain. The moment that its brain had greeted your knife, the body fell on the ground with a thud, allowing you to let out a comforting sigh. 

Without wasting any time, you moved to the kitchenette hoping to find something to eat, but more importantly, water. Your half bottle water was not going to last any longer than a day, even though you were drinking no more than needed. 

You started with the drawers beneath the counter. In the first drawer were rusty scissors and four pieces of nail. The second drawer- empty. The third times the charm- empty. The fourth drawer, well the fourth drawer was bliss. There were two cans of mushroom soup, a can of cooked rice, and a whole bottle of water that will help you another two days. You persisted with the cabinets, but your luck did not. You only found a short black worn-out rope, you did not know how to use it, yet you took it anyway. 

You laid all your belongings on the counter deciding on an inventory check. All you had were five canned food including the new ones, two energy bars, a full bottle of water and your half-full bottle, a pack of tampons, rope, a flashlight, half a box of painkillers, one roll toilet paper, toothpaste and toothbrush, a detailed map of Georgia, a box of matches, a swiss knife, sterile compress, a hunting knife, a gun, and two bullets. If you did not return to the highway of anywhere near the city, you would not make it any more than three days in the woods. The city was dangerous but there was more chance of finding food and water. 

You put your stuff back to your backpack without wasting any more time. You locked the door of the cabin and dragged the body of the walker to another corner. The stench was not unbearable but still uncomfortable. You did not have any other choice other than keeping it here. Otherwise, there was a chance that someone with ill intentions could spot the body and assume that someone was inside the cabin. You could not take that chance. After securing the door, you slowly turn to the dirty sofa, its designs are no longer recognizable because of the dirt.

You lightly took one of the cushions and turn it over to reveal the clearer side. It had brown and red plaid patterns. You could not help but remember the similar ones from your family's house. It was just like the sofa that you and your older brother used to play card games. Your heart sinks at the thought and you turn the other cushion as well. 

When it was all done and well, you laid on the sofa letting out a deep sigh. Your feet hanged from the end of the sofa and instantaneously all the exhaustion of the past few days sat on your whole body like an ox as your eyes slowly gave in to sleep. 

"No! One more!" thirteen-year-old you shouted at the older brother. He had just returned from college for the summer break, "You think I'm cheating?" he said disapprovingly. 

"I know you're cheating," you said raising one brow at your brother. "You haven’t lost a game since we started." 

"That's 'cause I'm a pro. Don't be such a sore loser," he said mockingly. He got up from his seat and made his way towards his old room, while you were venting to your mother about the game. A few minutes later he exited the room with one hand hidden behind his back. 

" Whatcha got there? " You asked. He revealed his hand and swung a little red piece of rope. "Here, take this," he said giving you the piece. "For your luck," You took it from his hand and realize that it was a bracelet with a four-leaf clover in the middle. 

"Very funny," you said smiling at the older boy, "Help me with it." 

He grasped the tiny piece of rope and gently tied it to your wrist. You lifted your head to face him, he was much taller than you now. 

"So much for a cheater," you said with a grin. 

Throughout childhood, you and your brother were as close as a brother and a sister could be. But you had never known what your brother thought, what was going on his mind, his dreams. 

You abruptly opened your eyes to see a man towering you with his tall figure. He was wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt and dirty, ripped pants that seem a little big for his figure. His one foot was on the small coffee table and had a crossbow aimed at your face. Shit. His piercing stare was making the situation even more fearful for you. Your heart was pounding like a drum set in a rock concert when you raised your arms to level your head in a surrendering pose. He still did not speak but you spotted a change in his stance. He must've noticed that you were afraid as he hesitantly lowered his crossbow just an inch, his shoulders stiffened. 

"Look, um…I-I don't want any trouble," you say when the man maintained the silence. His eyes were fixed on yours; it was almost like he was trying to read your thoughts. "You can take whatever…" Silence. "I don't have much, but…" You were slowly sitting up. 

"Stay put!" he finally spoke. His voice sounded like more of a gruff, demanding but not a yell." Put your gun and knife on the table,” he said pointing at your gear.

"No-I'm j-" you refused to give your gears that have been keeping alive. 

"Ain't gonna ask again," his voice was dangerously low. It was then you realized that he had a southern accent.  

"Okay," you say with a voice no louder than a whisper, and reluctantly put the knife and the gun on the table. He took and tucked them in his belt after checking the clip. He completely lowered the crossbow and made his way towards the kitchenette with hurried steps. He quickly checked the cabinets before he moved towards the drawers, in which you had left three of your canned food. He stopped for a second, then continued. You could tell that he was filling his bag with your food. 

"The hell ya doin' here?" he asked you, still busy with the bag.

"What?" You don't understand why he was curious all of a sudden.

"Ya alone in tha' woods just with two bullets." he said disbelievingly.

" I was on the main road when a herd dragged me here," you said not knowing if it is safe to share your plans with a total stranger. "I was waiting for the herd to spread out." 

He let out a growl as a response, but you couldn’t really figure out it meant. 

"Do you know how I can go to the old metal factory,” You debated for a moment whether to ask him where the factory was. Your former group had always talked about moving somewhere outside the city where they could be away from the walkers and draw in more survivors.

"What's there?" he asked drawing his eyes from his bag to you. 

"I-I don't know," you genuinely did not know what to expect from the factory, but you were willing to give it shot. This was the least you can do for your brother. He moved away from the counter when he was finally finished and stopped on his tracks to get a good look at you. 

You hadn’t seen yourself for a long time, but you could guess how bad you looked; greasy hair to the tips, hollow cheeks, dark under eyes, skin covered with dirt and blood… 

"Ya ain't too far", he finally said and made his way to the little window. "About twenty miles south, down this way" he continued pointing his finger out the window. “Ya got a map?” he asked. 

You nodded as you slowly took out the map from your backpack, laying it on the table. He knelt down across you and began to examine the map. After a few seconds, he traced a route with his index finger. 

“Ya need to go over tha’ river, there should be a bridge,” he said. This man just had taken half your food and now he was helping you. You did not know why but you were not interested in questioning his kindliness. 

At this point you didn’t even know who to trust, this man could even lead you into a trap for that matter. But you knew that the factory would be somewhere near the area he was showing you. 

“Thank you,” you said turning your head to face him. 

He got up from his knees as he let out a humming sound as a response.

       --------------

“Ya gonna need more than just two bullets if ya gonna take tha’ route,” he said putting your gun and knife back on the table and left the cottage closing the door behind him.

 Chapter 2

Author’s Note: The first chapter is here you guys! I must admit that it is a little longer than I’ve planned but please bear with it. I hope you all enjoyed reading it. It feels so great to finally share something with you. Feedback is always appreciated. Please send me your opinions about the story. 

[mwolf0epsilon]

The only thing Joey loves more than playing god and Henry Stein, is fucking with people's heads.

Summary: In which two older men relentlessly tease a younger coworker to the point it becomes detrimental to the object of their "affections". AKA Norman doesn't know how to feel about his attraction to Sammy, and Joey likes to fuck with people. Tom doesn't help in the slightest.

---

[[MORE]]

Sammy was exhausted. Both physically and mentally, as he'd had another frustratingly long day "correcting" scores he'd been working on for weeks and enduring the band's incessant incompetence.

Oh, and there were also Norman and Joey who, for some mysterious reason, had decided to begin tormenting the hell out of him.

Overall a regular day at the studio, but one that ended up grinding his gears in the most painful way possible.

"Abigail, I'm home..." He called out to his younger sister, now well on the way to womanhood at the ripe age of 15, and ready to "face the world" or so she'd said (nevermind that she still got anxious when he was late).

"Dinner will be ready soon! Take your shoes off mister!" She called out from their tiny kitchen. In her desire to prove herself quite grown up she'd taken to cooking for him whenever he came in late from work, as opposed to keeping him on his feet like when she was still unable to reach the stove properly.

He had to admit, at least what she made was palatable. For all that he was good with an instrument and a tune, Sammy lacked tallent in the cooking department. Still he'd miss those nights where he'd make "drowned pasta burnt Bolognese" for the both of them to enjoy. But not as much as he missed his mother's cakes.

"What are we having?" He put his coat on the hanger and kicked off his shoes. The floor looked a bit slick from Abby moping it no doubt. She still hadn't gotten the hang of getting the excess water off of the mop.

"I thought we could mix things up and have breakfast foods for dinner. Like when I was six." She explained, seeming rather chipper. "Those were fun nights."

"That they were..." He joined her in the kitchen, enjoying the smell of cooking bacon and eggs, as well as warm toast and fresh orange juice. He'd kill for some whiskey though.

"They also cheered me up everytime, so I thought it could work for you too, Sambo." And there it was. Astute observation on her part, Abby always knew when he was down in the dumps for real. Getting harassed at work was definitely one way to get him a little under the weather.

"Don't call me that."

"Oh why not? I think you'd like a good samba. I've seen you dance Sammy, you could light up a room with just how happy you get shaking about." She smiled genuinely at him, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes. He smiled back as she placed a plate in front of him, and smiled wider when she gave him a bottle of licor rather than the juice she was having for herself. "Just a little treat, so you feel better."

"You're a little angel, you know that?" He ruffled her hair and chuckled bitterly. Yeah, an angel. Unlike those good for nothing-- Patience Sammy. No need to get upset while eating a meal with his sister.

"Everyone needs one guarding their back." Abigail stated before tucking in, looking up at him with a mouthful of eggs and bacon. "So. Spill. What's got my grumpy brother in a perpetual A?"

"Abby, don't talk with your mouth full." He chastised, ignoring her usage of musical keys to coax the issue out of him. "It's really nothing to worry about. Just work being bothersome."

"It's not nothing. You usually grumble when it's just work. This is clearly something else if it's making you quiet." Abby insisted after swallowing her food. "Samuel Lawrence Jr is not a quiet man."

That he wasn't, and that was the give away here. She knew how to read him like a book and it was honestly pointless trying to skirt around it. Abigail was a Lawrence after all. And a Lawrence was as stubborn as a mule out in the field.

So... He relented and told his sister.

"It's stupid. It's so freaking stupid!" He covered his face with his hands, frustrated and embarrassed. "Joey and Norman have been acting like petulant children! Mocking me openly, leaving little notes teasing me, heck even talking behind my back about how much they dislike me! What's worse is it's spreading! Even Thomas Connor has taken to mouthing off to his GENT subordinates, and people laugh whenever they see me! It's... It's disheartening! And very distracting!"

He sighed.

"It's stupid..."

"No it's not!" Abby startled him, the look of anger on her face giving him pause. "You're getting bullied! It's not stupid to feel bad about it."

"It is if you're a grown man. Grown men don't feel sad when their coworkers talk behind their back. That's..." Wimpy? Queer stuff? Worthy of a beating? His father would sneer at the thought of his only son being a wuss about this sort of stuff.

"Sammy, you're allowed to be sad if people are assholes to you."

"Abigail Marie Lawrence!"

"Don't pull that card with me. You know I'm right! They have no right to make you feel so rotten!"

She was right. They really didn't have the right to do this... But there was nothing he could really do.

Well, actually there was, he just couldn't do it to Drew of all people. But Norman and Thomas were another story.

-

"You know you deserve this don't you?" Lacie Benton sighed as she dabbed Norman's swollen eye with a wet cloth. Besides her, Jack was helping sling his arm until he could have a doctor check it out for him. He'd landed pretty bad on it and, although he doubted he'd broken it, he couldn't quite move it from the pain.

"I know..."

"If you'd just told him instead of going off being so childish... Oh Norman what were you thinkin'?! Invitin' that devil t' start sayin' those things?! You should know better!" Lacie ranted on, frowning at the roughed up older gentleman she was currently caring for.

"I... I panicked. I still don't know how to address my issue with Sammy." He tried to explain. "I didn't think it'd escalate into him going crazy and comin' ta rip my throat out for it!"

"This is Sammy Lawrence we're talking about Norman. He was raised by a racist Catholic man that taught him gays and blacks are evil." Jack pointed out. "Resorting to 4th grade pettiness to show your crush you like them was definitely asking for Sammy to lose it and get revenge."

"An' Drew joinin' in on the "fun" did no good. I swear that man realized you were gettin,' sweet on him an' thought it'd be just swell t' ruin your days." Lacie huffed irritably.

"Thomas didn't help with the betting poll either. Everyone took the week to piss off Sammy, I swear to God..." Jack sighed.

"My fault. I shoulda' been more sensible... Kid hates me for sure now."

"Depends if he remembers. You both fell down the stairs pretty hard." Lacie reminded him. "Which reminds me, you should be expectin' a call soon. Your brother had to take that kid's poor sister to the hospital to check on her ornery brother."

"Oh... I'm dead for sure. If not by my brother's hand, it'll definitely be by my niece and nephew's..." He pauses, considering his options "Or worse... They'll set Sammy's sister on me! She can be real scary when she's mad!"

Needless to say, after indeed getting yelled at over the phone by Abigail Lawrence and having to apologize to Sammy while he dealt with a broken leg, Norman didn't tease the music director all that much after that incident. And whatever bets Thomas made became less public for fear of losing another molar. Sammy Lawrence had one hell of a right hook!

Joey still went out of his way to be a jackass though. He much liked teasing his favourite employees, and nothing would change that.

[neoarchipelago]

Citrus, Cauldron and Gun Powder Chapter 2 (Witch!reader x John Wick)

A/N: Well, this is pretty dark, enjoy, don't hesitate to leave a feedback... Hum yeah.. idk

This is highly inspired by this song:

Word count : 3 024 

Warning: BLOOD, CURSING, CREEPY STUFF

---

You didn't move. You still held onto Neko without making a sound. You were trying to control your breathing and your wrecked brain. That feeling of blurriness as the dark magic floods through your veins was addictive. You simply looked away, not wanting to stare at him any longer. The whispers who had been so loud a few seconds ago were finally shutting up and you closed your eyes, feeling the usual burning in them that finally told you that your eyes had gotten back to normal. You heard John move but you decided to stay still. You knew he wouldn't try anything. 

His voice made you slightly jump. 

"Are you ok?" 

You looked at him wide eyed. The tears had flooded your cheeks. He was sitting down, his back against the wall of the hallway, looking at you. He wasn't… scared? You nodded slightly, confused. However none of you moved. The silence was deafening but it was always better than the voices. You stayed like this for a few minutes and when you were finally ready to speak to him, you looked up, only to find him sound asleep. He was still hurt and had probably passed out. 

"You should take care of him. He tried to save you (y/n)." Neko spoke. 

You sighed and looked around the room. The moonlight was lighting up the room just fine, the dying fire of the fireplace glowing. There was broken glass everywhere… dead bodies… everywhere. The sight almost made you hear those awful little whispers once more. You groaned at the mess you were in once more. 

"I'm a fucking idiot." You let out, your voice raspy from the silent cries. 

You stood up slowly, taking a deep breath. He knew. You couldn't turn back time. You had to face it. Taking another huge breath, you took back control of all of your senses and got to work. A spell to the broken window, another to the broken door. More wood in the fireplace and another levitation spell for John. His dog walked with you upstairs and laid down on the bed next to him. Letting Neko walk into the room as well, you walked out and closed the door yourself behind you. The soft sound of the lock echoing through the house. The silence was suffocating, almost too perfect for what you were about to do. You let yourself slide down the door and sat on the ground. The cracking noises of the house perfectly clear, the eyes in the shadows perfectly visible. You were too familiar with this environment. With the darkness and what lied in it. 

Taking a deep breath you finally spoke out the words you knew way too well. Singing the macabre lullaby in a soft whisper.

" Glowing eyes in the dark, little evil lights,

let me hear how they bark, show me their bites. 

Let them roam free in my kingdom, as it is filled with poor wisdom, 

let them eat what's forgotten,the bodies and soul of the rotten" 

The groaning sounds echoed and you stared at the dark hallway, with the stairs at the end of it. The sound of paws hitting the ground, bites, growls, barks. You knew it wouldn't take long for the hellhounds to take care of the bodies, and you knew how fresh human blood was tempting to them. Your one job was to make sure they ate the dead and let the living alone until you threw them back into their dark little garden.  Not every witch knew how to summon hellhounds, those deadly beasts didn't hesitate on attacking witches, and other poor souls who were stupid enough to call them. You however… you were familiar with hellhounds. You had long reached dark paths of magic that many witches wouldn't dream of. You had befriended the demons hiding underneath children's bed, the wraiths in the graveyards, the whispers in the darkness that you don't think twice about or that gush of wind that makes you shiver unknowingly of what's hovering above you. The stairs screeched. 

The shadow in the mirror that you are unaware of when you go to the bathroom at night. The paws walked up, stair by stair.

The thing you don't see staring at you when you're sleeping soundly. The growling intensified. You closed your eyes, feeling the familiar burn in your pupils. 

Or even… the glowing eyes in your closet at night. Or the ones of the evil little creatures who are just waiting for you to turn your back. You opened your now black eyes to stare into bright glowing red ones. The creature was hardly recognizable in the darkness. The dog like figure, with ripped skin, evil eyes, sharp claws stood watching you, halted by the darkness surrounding you. The soft black smoke escaped from you, your hair, your skin. It felt empowering. It did. That power rushing through you, the pure energy you had gotten perfectly used to. It was empowering to see a hellhound yelp at your sight, and run away. But it was also poisonous, for you and everything around you. The howling sounds grew more distant, until nothing was heard anymore. You stood up sighing. 

You walked down stairs looking around to check for any.. leftovers. There was still blood everywhere, but no bodies to see. You smirked and you knew you probably looked just as evil as those things hiding in the dark, with your pitch black eyes, that soft smoke rising around you and the devilish smirk on your lips. You couldn't exactly check that though, you had absolutely zero mirror in the house. Not that you were afraid of the things hiding inside of them. But out of fear of the darkness inside your own self reflecting into them. 

You had to clean up the splattered blood, and the pools of the red liquid on your beautiful dark wood floor. You could just throw a spell to clean it up, but you needed an occupation right now for many reasons. You walked into the kitchen, the sound of pan's hitting each other slightly heard. You wondered what creature had just escaped as you had stepped in but shrugged it off. Grabbing a sponge, something to scrub the floor and a bucket that you filled with water, you walked back into the Hallway. Kneeling down you started to scrub down the pools of blood on the ground. 

The little voices all around the house filled your ears. They laughed, and screamed just for you to hear and you scrubbed the floor harder. Your breathing quickening, you put more strength into your work, more than necessary. Tears filled your eyes, not out of fear or out of sadness but out of rage. Listening to the nonsense of the spirits and the villains that hid behind the darkness was truly maddening. Throwing away the bloodied sponge you exploded. 

"Enough! Shut up!" You half yelled in rage. 

Silence fell as you closed your eyes. You had long stopped to fear them, but you still remembered the first moments when you had fell deeply into darkness. You remember those nights awake, curled up in your bed, knowing they'd come for you. And they did. But they had not found a soft little girl curled up in fear. 

The floor creaked behind you and opened your eyes. Which creature was stupid enough to sneak up on you? 

"(y/n)?" 

Your breath caught in your throat. A stupid creature indeed, but with such a deep and soothing voice. You found yourself almost automatically losing your dark eyes as they were back into usual (e/c) ones. You turned around slowly, looking up at the towering figure. 

"Please… don't sneak up on me John." You let out.

He nodded, and none of you moved. 

"Who were you talking to?" His deep voice filled your ears once more. 

You looked at him frowning a bit, opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. As no answer seemed to reach him, he spoke once more. 

"Nevermind. I don't think I want to know yet." He let out in a low voice. 

You smiled weakly at him. Looking back down at your dirty floor you grabbed your sponge once more and dipped it into the water bucket. John moved, grabbing something as well and started to scrub the floor with you. 

"You should rest, you're still not fully healed." You said softly. 

"I'm much better than I should be. Thanks to someone" he finished eyeing you knowingly. 

You looked away and kept cleaning up the blood that splattered on the wall.  Silence fell once more.

"I didn't thank you for it." 

You looked at him, nodding at him. You didn't want to  be thanked. You were a witch, witch healed. It was a normal behavior. Even if you hadn't healed anyone in a while before John. Going back to your task you found the moment perfectly soothing. And in no time everything would be clean.

----

You looked around at the perfectly clean room as you sighed. John looked around as well before walking into the kitchen, you following him. He cleaned the sponges in the sink as you stood not too far. Glancing at the wall you noticed the bullet impact on the wall. The bullet that didn't meet its target. You sighed again and put your hand over it, as if hiding it. Whispering another spell, you took off you hand to a perfectly fixed wall. When you looked back at John he was staring at you. 'oh. Right. I forgot.' 

You eyed each other not moving. You knew he was going to ask it. You were waiting for that question. And you knew you couldn't lie. 

"What are you?"

You looked at him frowning once more and repeated your previous ritual. You opened your mouth to speak, without finding the right words. But you had to find something to say. So you went for the blunt truth, with no explanation. 

"A witch." 

No reaction. 'really??' you wanted to speak out but you prefered not to push it, you looked away. 

"And…" you looked up at him. " Do all witches talk so little? Or is it just you?" You gasped "because I've never been so forced to talk to someone in my entire life." 

You chuckled at his frown. 

"What do you want to know?" You finally let out. 

"Everything." His tone made you shiver but you nodded nevertheless. 

You walked into the living room, John following you. As you both sat on the couch, you sighed and looked at him. 

"You have to be more specific, or it'll take months. What do you wish to know?" You said. 

"How did you got to me?" 

You frowned at how the question sounded. 

"I didn't got to you. You ended up in my path trust me you cause me more trouble than anything else!" You let out coldly. 

It must have angered him because he rose from the couch and spoke just as coldly. 

"Ok, I don't have time to deal with a kid, even less a brat." He spoke just as coldly. 

You felt your own rage rise as you rose from the couch as well. 

"I beg your pardon? I'm probably fucking older than you and look who's talking Mister Sunshine." You let out, your voice dripping of sarcasm.

You both froze. Alright. This conversation had not started well. You sighed, but keeping a frown on your face you spoke out. 

"I was just passing by next to that hotel. The street had been entirely closed up and it was perfect for me to go home faster. I found your dog, who led me to you. I wasn't really going to… meddle in human affairs. But people were coming by and I heard they wanted to kill you. I have to be honest with you I didn't really think when I brought you home but it was already done so I helped you." You finished letting yourself fall back down on the couch, folding your arms on your chest. 

He mimicked you, and silence fell. Your eyes looked into the fire burning softly in the fireplace. 

"How are you probably older than me?" He asked, his tone tainted in confusion. 

You smirked. 

"Witches age differently compared to other living things. In some cases, they may never die unless killed. It depends on a variety of reasons and factors but we still live much longer than humans" you explained. 

"So. How old are you?" He asked looking at you. 

"Over 350 years old." You said in a smirk. 

"Definitely older than me, grandma." He mumbled. 

You glared at him, but his smirk made your anger vanish. He looked almost alright. It made your heart soften, and you mentally wondered why. 

"Are all witches like you? You look… powerful." He asked again. 

This time you felt yourself grow anxious. 

"No… they're not." You looked away. 

"So you guys have like? Meetings?" He kept asking away. 

"We do… but… I'm not part of it anymore." You let out, your eyes losing focus into the flames. 

"Why not?" 

You didn't answer. Memories flooding your mind. You curled up in the couch, your arms around your knees. Still not managing to actually look at him, you mumbled out something, hoping he'd let it go. 

"I got cast away." 

You could feel his stare burning into you. You were silently hoping it wasn't going to speak out that question. 

"Why?" 

And he did. You sighed. What were you losing on telling him? Perhaps he would do just the same right after, and you'd learn more about him. 

"I've always been… more or less cast away. I was born in a perfect little witch family, and I was the little girl my parents always wanted. But I was��� different. I attracted darker energy, and I danced with darker spirits. I scared away the other kids when we played and practiced. I was… more prone to black magic we'd say. My parents quickly decided it wasn't good for the blood line so I lived with my grandma and she taught me everything. I learned to be good, to do good, and to cast aside anything dark. Around...1692…" John frowned, probably still not used to such old dates. "I fell in love…" your eyes were stuck in the flames that seemed to dance like a fire you once knew. 

"He was sweet, and I wanted to be his forever. Of course it was complicated. And things turned dark." Your eyes stung with tears. 

"What happened?" John softly asked, pushing you to keep going.

"The witch trials started. I don't exactly remember why or how, but many of us were being hunted down and killed. My grandma wanted to us run away, but I didn't want to leave. Because of him. I know I should have been more careful… I ended up being caught by his own father who sentenced me to burn at the stake. It's so cliché" You finished in a sour laugh. "I was kept in a cage, and he came to save me in the night… obviously we were caught. My grandma tried to save us both… but she was killed…" it was hard to speak in between your breath that hitched through the sobs you were containing. 

"And… his own father… killed him…"  rage filled you once more the memory so vivid. "I..I was… so... filled... with rage… that I forgot everything that I was taught … and I let the darkness take control…" you were angrily crying on your couch, now, the presence of John almost erased. 

"What did you do?" The question fell out of his lips and reached you without truly bringing you back to reality.

"I killed them… I killed them all… I burnt the village and the villagers… I let monsters ...roam free into the streets. I gave them what they wanted… an evil little monster…" tears fell slowly, as your eyes saw in the flames the same ones that burnt everything so long ago. 

"Did you love him?" John's voice sounded lower and angrier. 

"More than anything…" you spoke letting out another tear. "After that… the coven I was part of… that my… family was part of, decided I couldn't live any longer… my own parents were instructed to kill me… but unfortunately for them, I was lost in dark place, and I was the one that killed them. Seeing me as a threat for them, they stopped hunting me, the other witches and warlocks. But they cast me away. I am no longer allowed to contact them, or deal with them, any of them." You finished wiping away your tears. Trying to breathe calmly again. "I'm just… a monster for them… and they're probably right…you should be scared of me" you finished looking down.

"A monster is not afraid of another monster." 

His words made you look at him in confusion. You watched his lips, his movements, as he explained his own story. His job, his encounter with the woman who changed everything… the way she died and the puppy he was gifted with. Hearing the death of the poor thing made your own blood boil… you don't know what you'd do if someone killed Neko. You listened how he hunted down the awful boy and killed everyone in his way, but his past came crushing on him after that. You heard his troubles and the way he was so lost down that path that he crossed a sacred line, turning him excommunicado. You saw yourself in that story. You felt the same pain… 

"I'll help you. If you want me to of course … I'll help you John. You'll find peace." You told him, looking at him in the eyes. 

"Only if you allow me to help you find yours…" he spoke leaving you baffled. 

Help ...you? 

It has been a while since someone had wanted to help you. But you nodded, sealing a contract between you two that would intertwine both of your life in a way you never expected.

----

Tags: hope i don't forget anyone

@fanficsrusz @keanu-fics @celestiaelisia @glamorizedtrainwreck @baphometwolf666 @drunkonyellow @thatlibrachild @loohsouzar @idk-alli-it @keanuchillz @freshoutthebox @lustforfern @imblackmagicwoman @theolsdalova @thatbemyhouse @magdazwolska @shadowlyorphan @strangewhovian-blog @tnu-ree @oliviaistx @gypsydraig-thevetstudent @linwavez

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: Session 6.5

A half-elf conwoman (and the moth tasked with keeping her out of trouble) travel the Jewel in search of, uh, whatever a fashionable accessory is pointing them at. [Campaign log]

Last time, Looseleaf and Saelhen fought their way to the top of the evil torture tower of the evil torture wizard- only to find out that the guy's been dead for at least a year, and that a dragon has apparently been squatting in his tower. Not content to wait another week to find out what this means, we had an off-schedule mini-session wherein the party finished exploring the unexplored nooks and crannies of Lumiere's Tower.

The first thing to deal with is the thing blocking their return down the stairs- there's a weird big metal coffin-looking dealie that waddled up to the stairs on the fourth floor, but couldn't chase them any further. Going back down, though... they could take a window, but they figure there's no way this thing could be a serious threat. It can barely move, after all- they can probably just push it right over!

Looseleaf pokes it with a stick, and its front splits open down the middle, revealing a giant maw of horrible spikes which snaps at her threateningly.

So it's an iron maiden! Adorable! Still doesn't have legs, or arms, so it's fine, right? They can just stand on the stairs and

whoops nope it's got animated canvas straps inside it that shoot out and ensnare orluthe like a chameleon tongue. okay. so maybe this monster is dangerous actually.

The ensuing fight makes heavy use of a mechanic in D&D called "called shots", where you can take disadvantage on an attack roll in exchange for inflicting some kind of injury on the opponent by hitting them in different specific body parts. They don't want to let Orluthe get shut inside and take a fuckload of stab damage, so they jam Looseleaf's quarterstaff in the doors, slice up its canvas straps, and by force of numbers manage to render nearly all its appendages impotent. The poor torture instrument has disadvantage on all its attack rolls after the called shots go through, and it can't land any more hits! The party eventually wears it down, and Looseleaf lands the finishing blow by scrambling its spirit.

All that's left in their way is the translucent red barrier blocking off the 3rd/4th floor stairs. Not finding anything on the fourth floor to shut it off, they just go via the window like before. Back down on the third floor, Looseleaf uses her spirit sight to notice that the barrier is connected magically to some runes inscribed on the central pillar- it looks like there's some sort of creepy puzzle involving stabbing creepy dolls with creepy doll-sized knives.

Not interested in risking whatever the consequences of solving the puzzle wrong are (given that they already have a way up and down), they move on.

While they're there, Saelhen decides to take another crack at the trapped chest she couldn't open earlier. Rather than risk the trap, she first spends some time expertly disarming the trap built into the lock, before working on the lock itself. A couple good rolls later, and they acquire the treasure! Which is... 60 gold pieces, and a piece of paper with a list of words.

Saelhen fails her Nature check, but Looseleaf recognizes the words on the paper as... the names of craters and other geographical features of the moon.

[WAR_FLASHBACKS.jpg]

No one's quite sure why a list of moon landmarks would be locked up in a highly-secure chest protected by a poison needle trap, but no one rolls high enough on Religion to puzzle it out.

Moving on down, they reach the second floor, which appears to be a laundry room of some sort. The sort where the irons and ironing boards and scrub brushes are alive, and appear to be washing the same clothes over and over and over to the point where most of them have been reduced to sparklingly clean rags. Seems like these animated household objects have been stuck on a loop for a good long time!

There's what appears to be an intact magical cloak hanging on a clothesline in there, but the party opts not to try and take it- doing so would likely provoke some protective laundry automatons.

Saelhen's plan to lure the scrub brush away from the washtub (for... reasons??) fails, since the brush doesn't seem to want to leave the tub- and it's visibly disappointed when Saelhen gives up.

So, they head down to the first floor, finally! As they head down, they're noticed by more animated knives... but it seems these ones have been tasked with cooking a delicious meal, which they happily serve up to the tower's guests! The wheelbarrow from before is there, too, supplying the kitchen with food. The only question is... who's been eating this stuff? Why is the table not covered in rotten, uneaten banquet, if the wizard's been dead? Who's been putting grocery money in the wheelbarrow?

Other things of note in the room...

Benedict I. (GM): The shelves around the center seem to be festooned with various trophies and awards. Looseleaf: trophies. what, like, participation trophies??? school trophies? piano recital trophies?? Benedict I. (GM): These would actually be somewhat recognizable to most of you- you've seen similar things in trophy cases at school. The plaques beneath them seem blacked out in various places- a lot of [REDACTED]. Looseleaf: warball champions of the 1034 school year? Benedict I. (GM): Often built into the plaques. Saelhen du Fishercrown: huh who redacts a plaque Benedict I. (GM): Like, there'll be a flat section of the plaque painted black like it was engraved that way

Looseleaf, with a 20, Investigates a bunch of pertinent information. For instance, a diploma:

Hal Lumiere, PhD in [______]. Blacksky University, Department of Restricted Arts

It appears Hal Lumiere was an alumnus of Blacksky's School of Restricted Arts- the same place Vayen is from. Lumiere was apparently something of a darling there, considering all the awards- but no one in the party has ever heard of him. Except maybe a certain someone who's not telling.

Looseleaf also finds some unopened mail! One is illegible, written in Abyssal, the language of demons.

(Lore note on demons: demons are just like other monsters- evil things that come up from below the mountains and cause trouble. They aren't generally aware of their origins beyond waking up in a deep cave, usually, and aren't motivated by much except causing conflict and hurting people.)

Another letter is written in Common, with just plain awful handwriting:

"hey Lumes why tf arent you home today u fuckin flake ass fairyboy. who am i supposed to get that dank good ouch from if youre off on magic adfentures. this months number shits are: 14.3 6755 304° and then the little bar thing was on the green side but wobbly. now gimmeeeeeee"

It's a bit of an enigma- but even more enigmatic is the third letter Looseleaf finds, written in a hand Looseleaf recognizes. Looseleaf knows who this letter was written by.

"Dr. Lumiere- find enclosed the new spirit hollowing diagrams and the corrected sigil of Aaaaaaagh. This should satisfy our agreement, so I'll leave you with a warning: the lesser gods are not to be trusted." "Yes, their revolution is our best shot at the Project- that much is obvious, barring a road to apotheosis. I understand we need to work with them. I doubt we'll have further contact, so I won't ask you not to reignite this argument- but insofar as it's at all relevant to you in the future, I favor your approach over Kron Green's." "But again, they are not to be trusted. The enemy of our enemy wishes mainly to supplant them, and despite their alliance, not all of them share the same aims. In particular, the one you've taken an interest in seems utterly hostile to the Project. " "If we are to impact the cosmic boardstate, we must play the game. Trust is the abdication of discovery. Choose your allies carefully." And then it is signed with a mark. The mark is of a book, facedown in the way that ruins the spine, sort of shaped to look like a skull. And the initials "Y.T." Looseleaf: youtube. the villain of our story, youtube. Saelhen du Fishercrown: trust is the abdication of discovery, what a goddamn motto Looseleaf: oh my god she's being so edgy well, that is characteristic of her.

She also finds what appears to be a trophy- but the trophy is shaped to look like a globe. Not of the Jewel, but of the moon. Obviously, they take it.

Some experimentation with the moon trophy seems to indicate that the locations marked on the paper from the chest draw out a sort of connect-the-dots pattern, which might be used elsewhere for some purpose. Whatever the pattern is meant to be used for, there's no indication of it here. All that can reasonably be inferred is that it has some connection to the School of Restricted Arts.

Meanwhile, the bookshelves have a few more things of interest. Amidst textbooks on neurology, magic, and speculative religion on a lower shelf, they find a hand-bound book that seems out-of-place.

Benedict I. (GM): Inside, it appears to be a diary. "i m choss n ths iss MY BOOK," it begins.

It appears to span several years of diary entries, from year 259 to 266- ending seven years before the current date, 273. The handwriting gets progressively less atrocious, and the entries are very sporadic- riddled with apologies to the diary for forgetting to write in it.

Benedict I. (GM): Choss, apparently, is a little girl who grew up in this tower. Initially she was very fond of her dad, the owner of the tower. Looseleaf: initially, huh. that's... a... great sign. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is a cool wizard who does fun magic all the time, which she helps with! She is very proud of how much pain she can withstand, and she's developed this sort of self-image as a connoisseur. Of pain. Saelhen du Fishercrown: hell Saelhen's face is getting progressively... stiffer, as she reads. Not angrier, per se, just... flatter. Benedict I. (GM): She helps out with the experiments except for not being allowed to take the hoods off the subjects in the lab. Looseleaf: Lumiere what the shit. Benedict I. (GM): And when there's no subjects, she fills in, and does a very good job, the best job. There's an entry describing how she designed a security system for her dad- she made some dolls and dad enchanted them so they open the door if you stab them right! She's very proud of it. You now know the order of stabs to disable the barrier. Anyway, the later entries seem to represent... entirely standard teen angst. Looseleaf: Hmm. Benedict I. (GM): Dad is being boring and not letting her do the experiments she wants to do and not letting her visit the towns and ugh dad. She gets fed up with him, and the last entry is about how she's leaving to go start her own life in Wheat. Looseleaf: REALLY NOW. Saelhen du Fishercrown: WELL. Looseleaf: ...god, maybe those rumors about wheat being full of insane murderous murder-os weren't, wrong. Saelhen du Fishercrown: if she is in fact a baby dragon Looseleaf: which is not at all guaranteed, by the way.

If you recall from a few sessions back:

To speak with a dragon is to be condemned to some sort of great misfortune, brought about by your own hand. You know the Simurgh from Worm? Listen to its song for too long, and you become sort of a sleeper agent of self-destructive carnage? It’s like a diet version of that. Whatever path your conversation with the dragon puts you on, it’s invariably bad for you, somehow. The metallic dragons, who’re ostensibly “good”, will still ruin your life in some way just by talking to you, even if your immolation does some good for the world on the way out. Nobody wants to talk to a dragon.

Also discovered in CHOSS BOOK is a brief account of a time she had to go to the basement, using the secret entrance underneath... something. Looseleaf almost immediately checks under the table they're sitting at, and finds... yep! A trapdoor leading to the basement!

Next time: the basement awaits!