#and hyperion hiding in the shadow

[tetedurfarm]

hot today

[woundedsoul12]

Thursday Bangers Time!

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week's Banger just really jumped out and spoke to me so I hope it does the same for you. I am getting suggestions for weekly bangers and I love that and am adding them to the request line.

No matter what happens, he cannot come between us again I know we're better than friends- Million Dollar Baby by Tommy Richman

No pressure tagging @himluv @thedissonantverses @mythals-whore @serensama @whispersleo @tarasmom @hedwigoprah @becausedragonage @kindlyfeline @davrinsleftpectoral @fenrelmercar @plasticfreckles @kai-dimir @teamtakagi @a-mumbling-nerd @fiberpunk027 @larknnightingale @jenn2d2 @hyperions-light @tkwritesdumbassassins @feelslikepants @trash-nerd @cute-ellyna @brennacedria @lottiesnotebook @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @operative-arrow @librivore42 @obsessed-with-book-boyfriends @fireheartedpup @mikylechase @bonesandivy @vime5 @notyourmamasdeerbat @griffongrey @master-of-the-elements @chaoslifeforme @carrieing0n @serstolas @beachhotdog @nirikeehan @basedonconjecture @bygonesigh

And if you are reading this...

You

Reminder if you want to be added/removed from the weekly tag list just let me know. Also please tag me when you post your bangers I love to read and share them (though I also browse the tag)

Let's go a little Lenashur this week. From my The Dragon's Den series. Where a broken-hearted Lena has returned home to Ashur after Lucanis broke up with her. Special thank you to @redheadsramblings for a line I stole from one of her comments

“Ashur-”

The Shadow Dragon leader looked up from his desk as the door creaked open. Revealing his smallest dragon, his little assassin, with rumpled parchment clutched in hand. His jaw already clenching as he saw her red rimmed eyes. Her lip trembling as he closed the space between them in three strides. Not pausing as he pulled her into the safety of his arms. Where she belonged, would always have a home, as a fresh wave of tears began to fall.

“Shhh, whatever it is I'm here,” he murmured gently against her hair as she clung to him.

He wanted to scream in frustration, but it wouldn't help the situation. It had been a week, an entire seven days since his Rook had her last breakdown. Since they stood on the roof and he forgave her. Since she kissed him softly through the leather of his mask.

It had gone no further and he was happy enough with his little slice of heaven. She needed time. Support. His fragile Lena healing the pain that bastard had caused. But Ashur would always be there to catch her. Love her. As he had silently done for years, and would continue for decades more.

If he didn't finally lose his control and kill the Crow for what he had done. The Divine was supposed to show mercy above all else, but some sins were beyond forgiveness.

Especially when she pressed the note against his armoured chest. A shudder running through her as she took a ragged breath. “He- wrote to me,” she whispered as her gaze fixed on the ground. “He wants me to come to Treviso. To- talk about what happened.”

He was glad he wore his mask, though it did little to hide the growl that rumbled from his chest. And the low curse of venhedis that escaped him when she jumped from the harsh sound and obvious anger radiating from him. Fear in her eyes that he hated to be the cause of as she subtly pulled away.

“Little assassin, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-” He attempted to reach for her but she sidestepped him. Her head clearer now that she was no longer wrapped in his arms.

“It's alright,” she brushed off as she stuffed her emotions back down. Hiding from him for the first time since her return to Minrathous. “I will deal with this.”

It wasn't Lucanis that finally broke his careful leash on his emotions, it was her. The coldness in her eyes as she turned from him. The stiffness to her shoulders as she walked towards the door.

There was only so much one man could endure. So much understanding he could give. The Divine spoke for the Heavens, but he needed someone on earth to keep him grounded. And now that his anchor had returned to him, he was in danger of losing her once more.

“Rook.” Her name was a command, an order from his lips. A tone he rarely used with his little assassin, and one that had her freezing in her tracks.

“Yes boss?” She didn't hide her annoyance, and he didn't care. Desperation made men crazy, as did fiery women with pouty lips and broken hearts.

“Look little assassin,” he began in a calmer tone as her body visibly relaxed. “I have not said much these last few weeks regarding that Crow, and I feel I have been very understanding.”

She cast a look of uncertainty over her shoulder at him as he spoke. A call that he answered as he stepped forward and gloved fingers reached out to dance along her jaw. “We are friends, Lena. Better than friends if we will both be honest with each other.” She licked her lips then, a subtle agreement that made his heart thunder in his ears.

“I want no secrets between us,” he said as he leaned forward. Her eyes fluttered closed as his words echoed into her very soul. “I love you, amate. I always have. And while I support whatever decision you make, I'm not sure how much more my heart can take if you return to him.” It was true. He would always be there as her friend, but a return to Lucanis would be the end for anything further between the two of them.

She smiled then. A warmth as if she knew a secret she was about to share. Turning to reach up as she unclasped the buckle of his mask. Calloused fingers tracing the angles of his face. Until her thumb came to the fullness of his lips and he sucked in a breath.

“Good,” she replied with a slight grin as the last of the tension finally left her. “I just needed to hear that. That- you would never let him come between us again. That you would protect me. Even from myself.”

She was still fragile, but he made her strong. Enough that she could face the days ahead. That she could continue to heal. That she could reach out for something new. Something she had been craving for much longer than she had allowed herself to realize.

She kissed him then. A full press of her mouth to his that was gentle at first, but grew more hungry as he pulled her against his chest and greedily took all that she offered. Only stopping when a soft whimper escaped her. Satisfied when he looked down to see her lips swollen and her eyes unfocused.

“I promise little assassin,” he chanted as his lips ghosted a soothing train across her brow, “No one will ever take you from me again.”

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

Challenge Accepted

I was tagged by the love @ofcrowsanddragons to post a snippet of something I’ve written that I’m proud of.

So, below the cut and definitely unbeta’d, find something I wrote that genuinely makes me smile from the Modern AU (tm).

I’ll challenge: @hyperions-light, @thedissonantverses, @dymme, @bygonesigh, @basedonconjecture, @mageofquandrix, @galluslonging, @swamp-jello, @corvus-frugilegus, @littlemissgeek8, @jouskaroo, and @mortal-ethos to post something you're proud of and tag friends who you'd like to have a chance to reblog!

Turning to face her, a sheepish grin on his face, was Rook. “Didn’t realize I’d be accompanying the Neve Gallus.”

Neve doubted her expression hid her shock.

Rook was the Shadow who’d pulled off the Nessus Job? Rook?

He shifted his weight, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Surprise?”

“You seem to be full of them,” she managed as she assimilated this new information.

His combat gear was well-worn, whether from wherever he’d gotten it or through his work for the Shadow Dragons she couldn’t guess. The bruises she’d seen on him earlier were no longer there, and she was surprised at the relief she felt. “You drank that healing potion?”

He chuckled. “Ah, well…someone smarter than I am mentioned that a healer might be a good idea, so I tried that instead.” She noted genuine apology in his eyes when they met hers.

“Good.” Neve drew closer to the desk, and looked down at the blueprints Rook had pulled. Tarquin stepped out of her way, and ushered Ashur into a corner for a private conversation. “This is the warehouse?”

He followed her lead. “In theory,” Rook said.

“These are the blueprints they submitted for their permits. But obviously they wouldn’t include anything that they might want to hide; anyone can get these. Even the maintenance guy.” He smirked at her. “Still, the external doors should be accurate - inconsistencies there would be tough to explain - so unless we go in through a window these are going to be the entry and exit points.”

“There are security cameras here, here, here, and here,” Neve said, indicating their placement on the plans.

Rook looked impressed. “Any sense of their line of vision?”

She took her phone out and opened her recording from earlier that day. “Let’s see,” she murmured as it began to play, focusing in on the view of each camera this time rather than the subjects of her inquiry.

“May I?” Rook asked. She glanced over at him, where he was, even in the midst of all this, smiling.

She smirked. “If you mess with my phone, I’ll hunt you down,” she warned as she handed the device to him.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” he muttered as he watched the video with the sound muted, and Neve felt butterflies in her stomach.

She’d chalk those up to nerves.

About the job. Not Rook.

He handed her phone back and reached into one of his many pockets. With the pencil he’d pulled out, Rook carefully started sketching lines that went from the camera locations Neve had indicated to the walls on the blueprint.

“At the end there, which door did the Flirt Master leave through?” Rook asked. Neve pointed to the front employee entrance and exit.

“There.” She cocked an eyebrow. “Flirt Master?”

He smirked as he checked over his handiwork with the plans. “You saw him last night. That was a master class. I’m planning to study it.”

Neve snorted. “Trust me, you’re better off without.”

Rook turned and caught her gaze. “Promise?”

Tarquin cleared his throat, and Rook pinked.

Interesting.

“Do you have some kind of plan, or will I have to listen to this all night?” The Templar grumbled.

Rook traced a path through the front door in a light pencil line. “If we enter here, we’ll be in the office area and not in the stacks, plus we can stay in this blind spot up until this point. Their camera set up actually isn’t that good. Especially if they’re storing more than overpriced perfume for the highblood crowd.”

He stood up and rubbed his chin in apparent thought. “Do we think Daddy Bataris maybe doesn’t know about Junior’s moonlighting in the culty artifact business? Because if so, security might not be as bad as I feared.”

“Never say ‘Daddy Bataris’ again.” Tarquin sounded physically pained, and Neve stifled a snicker as Rook smirked.

Rook bent back over the blueprints. “From here,” he marked the spot with an ‘X,’ “we should have a good view of the office space without being in the camera line. Hopefully it’ll give us insight into where the security hub is. Once we find it, we can knock it out easily enough. We’ll just need to disable to remote alarm system first.”

He stood up, looking down at the plans with his hands on his hips. “Step one, remote alarm; step two, security hub; step three, Neve pilfers the place for fun and profit; step four, piss off Tevinter supremacists.” Rook looked at them all and grinned.

Neve looked at him skeptically. “Is this how you do all your planning?”

“Pretty much!”

“Explains Nessus,” Tarquin muttered, and Rook pouted.

[mercars-musings]

OC Tag Game - Az "Rook" Mercar!

Aaa thankies for the tag as always @hyperions-light !! :3💖

No Pressure Tags will be at the end of the post! Answers under the Cut as per usual :3 💖

Astaarit "Az" Mercar

General:

Name: Astaarit Mercar. Alias: Az or Rook ; unless you're Emmrich then any cute lil pet name :3 ; Taash & Davrin also kind of get to call him whatever they want as long as it's funny lmfao. It's like sibling / bestie privileges. Gender: Trans Man Age: Start of VG: 27 // End of VG: 34. Place of Birth: Unknown, raised in a smallish town near Dock Town though. Spoken Languages: Qunlat, Tevene & Common / Trade Tongue. Sexual Orientation: Pansexual. Occupation: Devoted Shadow Dragon, Varric's Semi-Body Guard & {unbeknownst to Az} mentee, very anxious but trying his best leader of the Veilguard.

Favorites:

Color: Lavender / Red. Entertainment: Awful romance novels, annoying Davrin & Taash {that counts right?}, rock paper scissors with Manfred and generally just bothering Emmrich whenever he can lmfao. Pastime: Reading {particularly awful romance novels}, hiding out in Arlathan forest, reading to Assan & Manfred. Food: Tevene Stuffed Vine Leaves & Saheron Fish Pockets. Drink: Lavender Tea. Books: He doesn't have a particular favourite tbh, but it's probably whatever trashy romance he and Bellara are currently reading and comparing notes on at the time lmfao.

Have They…:

Passed University: Ummm, he completed circle training? Does that count? Had Sex: Yes, many more times that he'd like to admit. He had a littttle bit of a whore phase between his awful Ex & Emmrich. Only Tarquin knows the actual count bc he was there for part of the whore phase lmfao. Had Sex in Public: No, he's too much of a home body to want to spend ANY time outside nevermind doing that. Gotten Tattoos: YES. Many, full sleeves & wants more every time. He's trying to convince Emmrich to get a matching set for funsies too :3 Gotten Piercings: Nope. He did want them at one point, but trying to survive as a non Human in the Circle was ROUGH and he opted not to draw more attention to himself than he had to. Then when he joined the Shadow Dragons he realised it's probably best not to have too things enemies can grab onto if he can help it lmao. Gotten Scars: YUP. Facial & body. Man has been in enough fights even before the events of Veilguard that it would be wild if he didn't have at least some! Had a Broken Heart: Sadly, yes. I'll be going more into this in the fanfic going over his younger years but it was Ren {the Magisters son / best friend} from the circle who fucked my boy up exponentially in the romance department. You can read about Ren Here & Here! Been in Love: Yup, Twice. First Ren, second time Emmrich.

Are They…:

A Cuddler: Nope. Unless you're Emmrich, Assan or Manfred. He will give hugs to everyone but he is not the biggest when it comes to physical affection outside of that. Scared Easily: YES. This bitch has ANXIETY, like out the wazoo. He's constantly panicked, just hides it behind jokes lmfao. Jealous Easily: Unfortunately, yes. He's so used to people using him atp that it's kind of instinctual for him to assume the worst. He is working on that though, and luckily for him Emmrich is very clear with his affection once they get together. :3 Trustworthy: Yup, UNLESS your a magister, venitori OR YOUR BITCH ASS IS NAMED SOLA- anyway. He will do his best to keep his promises & make sure he keeps his friends and loved ones safe. Whatever it takes.

Family:

Siblings: No biological ones. Taash & Davrin for sure though. Parents: Dead, unfortunately. They died before they or Az could ever reconcile and that will eat him alive for the rest of his life if he ever spends too much time thinking about it. Children: NOPE. He and Emmrich are a liiiiiittle too married to their work and also have their hands full enough with raising Manfred and Hissera lmfao. Pets: HISSERA MY BELOVED!!!! Aka. The Dock Town Doggo barking outside of her cage! You can read HERE about how Az coaxed & then subsequently yoinked her to live with him & Emmrich once the events of Veilguard are over :3

Thankies for anyone who took the time to read this!!! :3 💖

No pressure taggies to the faves: @sunny374940 ; @andthekitchensinkao3 ; @ofcrowsanddragons ; @redheadsramblings ; @anderfels & honestly anyone else who sees this and wants in on it! 💖

[magknightidv]

Hi! I was just wondering if I could request a handsome jack x awkward reader headcannons, if that's okay?

YESSS thank you so much! I tend to keep head canons short and sweet so this is very much appreciated with my currently tired self. I'll put this in the fluff section cause I don't want this to be anything angsty as of right now.

Borderlands #1 - Imagine (? Kinda?)

Character/s: Handsome Jack, Awkward! Reader

Warnings: Well it's Borderlands so you should prob be prepared for anything relating to that, but it's not focused on all that. Fluff (I know the Horror!)

Masterlist

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

First off let's start with how you met. He, the show off big boss of Hyperion, and you, a low level worker just minding your own business, just happened to cross paths. Him being absolutely shameless just had to say something as he passed by you, "You're hot."

I know, he's so elegant with his words..

From then on, he kept noticing you pop up in communal areas. His eyes often scanned over crowds to find your face. You on the other hand, we're trying to avoid him. Assuming he was messing with you.

He got so fed up with looking for you, that oh! Look at you go, you suddenly got a huge promotion to the CEO's secretary.

From then on he's always trying to get your attention. Anything just for you to look at him. You, however, struggle to keep your eyes on his when he's talking to you.

He's the star of the show and you hide from the spotlight, and surprisingly he let's you stay in your shadows. He doesn't push you after a while and he actually treats you like a person, a friend.

He's secretly a nerd (as in its not part of his whole persona) so he will have an hour or two around lunch time ish and nerd out about some cool designs that he's gonna take credit for or some adjustments to the Loader bots.

You get a different Jack to everyone else.

You get Jack. The programmer, the space nerd, the hero. Whereas everyone else gets Handsome Jack, a massive jagoff.

(But we love him either way)

He's definitely been scary to you once or thrice. When he's screaming his head off with idiots that don't understand his 'genius', he's definitely snapped at you. Your shocked face usually snaps him out of it.

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

That ended up going a bit longer than I originally expected but I wanted to try and not make it too long but not too short either. :)

Hope that was fine!

[erin-unknown]

FffSeven FfffSentence Fffffriday

I've been so bad at carving out time to write omg here's a little bit from the draft of Lights in the Shadow that I literally just wrote lmao (I had to allow myself to enjoy a beer before I could get out of my own head enough to get here).

Thanks for the tags, @awardenandacrow, @covertleathers, and @hyperions-light!

Rook (Dalgar Thorne) has tracked fellow Warden recruit Sibyl out into the night in the Wandering Hills, onto an old battlefield from the darkest days of the Fourth Blight where the Fade presses on a patch of the Veil that's only gossamer-thin. It's a dangerous place for mages who are not on their guard—a dangerous place for not-quite-yet-wardens. Forgive me, I'm dramatic when I'm tipsy.

~

Dalgar’s breath came loud and far too ragged, visible with every gasp in the sallow light of his conjured flame. Too much time had passed by now and the snow was falling heavier around him; he had lost Sibyl’s trail. With the clouds swallowing the moon and surrounded on all sides by a maze of earthen mounds, the world felt entirely too small for his comfort and yet—

There is only to open the door, mon chou.

—and yet there was the understanding of everything just out of sight, but still within reach, like hiding in the narrow corridor of hanging linens when the chapel laysisters set them out to dry on wash day. Dalgar failed to suppress a shudder at a chill that came more from within than without. How many bodies beneath his feet? How many brothers and sisters?

How steeped in blood and blight was this soil?

~

Thank you for reading 💕

[lunartea0122]

New Disyte OC - Caelus, Esper of Hyperion (Titan God of the Sun, He Who Goes Before)

Caelus was supposed to be dead, having left his family a very long time ago. He joined the Shadow Decree after his father's passing, leaving his twin siblings behind to protect them. He currently works with Cayn (Esper of Mammon), acting as his muscle and intimidation tactic. He wears a mask to hide his identity, afraid of recognition and old emotions.

[loyaldeserter]

[LAY] - sender guides receiver by the shoulders to lay back.

"Easy, now." Legault's words are clipped short where they might usually drawl along, constrained with a quiet urgency. "That was quite the tumble you took. No use rushing back into the fray if you tear your leg open on the way, mm?"

A nod toward the arrow shaft protruding from Heath's thigh punctuates his point. He's no healer; he cannot mend anything himself. A dagger still rests in his left hand, slick with the blood of the archer with lucky enough aim to knock a Bernese wyvern rider from his mount and into the mountain mists below. The weapon stays clenched in his fist as he rests his other hand on Heath's pauldron, easing him backward to lean against a gnarled pine trunk.

"Lay low, and the healers will arrive here with the rest."

Long fingers trace the fractures in Heath's armor before pulling away, just for a moment.

"And if anyone unsavory decides to arrive instead, well..." The blade and wry smile that Legault wields together provide enough of an answer for that one.

It happens in a flash. Heath knew there were archers about, but he'd thought he was out of range, or at least could easily dodge back. Vaida had always chided him about this sort of thing, but it was rare to encounter an archer who had the skill or luck to pose a real threat if he just stuck to his guns.

Unfortunately, his fortune's run out.

Even in the shock of the hit and fall, training gives Heath the presence of mind to tuck and roll, or at least the muscle memory. He is still injured rather badly, but he'll live. For now.

Hyperion must be confused, and Heath hopes he follows his training to get to safety rather than searching for his rider in the midst of battle. It'll just put the both of them in danger. Heath will have to survive on his own, limping badly and disarmed aside from the small dagger he keeps for emergencies.

At least, that's what he thinks. But that strange thief, the former Black Fang member Legault, begs to differ.

"Keen eye to find me so quickly..." Heath winces, knowing Legault is right. The man had surely been shadowing him, that odd interest persisting onto the battlefield. It makes tactical sense, and he's grateful. "It's--it's not the worst I've endured. But it's bad."

The thief helps him to a better resting position, his wiry frame belying surprising strength. The fresh blood on his dagger and the look in his eyes transform him, betraying the casual, jovial mask he usually wears.

Heath's mostly seen a more casual side of Legault, a friendly man who puts forth much and, in his opinion, hides more still. For each easy smile, each flirtatious quip, Heath remembers that Legault is Black Fang.

"There's a lot of them due north, headed in our direction. If they find us too quickly, staying here with me's suicide." Fugitive and deserter they are, as Legault loves to remind him. He's serious about that bond, it seems. Heath cannot quite understand him. "You're not going to throw away your life for someone like me, are you?"

They're words for the sake of words, banter to keep his mind off the searing pain; there's no use trying to change Legault's mind. As he readies his dagger, Heath sees the practiced ease and sharpness of a trained killer, the conviction of one with something to lose.

When the first enemy emerges from the brush, he scarcely has time to gurgle as a blade meets his throat. Legault's movements are nearly impossible to track, his fighting unorthodox yet precise. Enemies cleave through air as he finds soft flesh between armor plates, weaving through enemies and leaving them confused amongst themselves.

Four men lay motionless on the ground in the aftermath of the Hurricane.

[holyblud]

❝  drew starkey. cis man. he/him.  ⸻ my oh my, it seems ATLAS MYRKRSON was spotted around the city  listening  to  STARBOY  by  THE WEEKND. usually , they spend their days  at  THE PLAY HOUSE  working as  THE OWNER.  between you and i, the  26/5000+  year old  ORIGINAL VAMPIRE  is avoided for being  RECKLESS. but once you get to know them , you will find that also have the tendency to be pretty  INTELIGENT  as well .  can’t help but wonder if there’s more to their story , especially when they are hiding something … In city full of life and darkness , something is brewing within the shadows … and with them being part of  MYRKSON , the city will certainly live up to its name.

❝ 𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑖 𝑠𝑢𝑑𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑎 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 . ❞

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 ⸻⸻

NAME : atlas hyperion myrkrson AGE : physically twenty six ⸻ over five thousand years old BIRTHDAY : december twentieth ZODIAC : sagittarius GENDER & PRONOUNS : cis male & he / him ORIENTATION : bisexual / biromantic HOMETOWN : unknown CURRENT RESIDENCE : city of infernis OCCUPATION : owner of the play house

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 ⸻⸻

POSITIVES : clever , quick thinking , ambitious , creative , & charming NEGATIVES : impulsive , sadistic , sarcastic , cocky , & untrustworthy LABEL : the tempest LIKES : parties , causing mayhem , sex , reading & writing DISLIKES : humanity MORAL ALLIGNMENT : has none SCARS : n / a

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ⸻⸻

PARENTS : tba SIBLINGS : cassius myrkrson , roman myrkrson , odessa myrkrson , alexandra myrkrson & emery myrkrson MARITIAL STATUS : single SIGNIFICATE OTHER : n / a CHILDREN : n / a

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ⸻⸻

there isn't a specific time frame that atlas remembered being born , less alone a normal family . there's always been quick flashes of memories that would disappear from his thoughts before he could make sense of them . he was known for being the souless myrkrson , letting everyone continuing to believe that fact . he has distant himself from his family countless of times over the centuries , preferring being alone .

the original has travelled the world more time than he could count , always finding something new to be fascinated by . has owned many businesses and still is a silent partner to several he's invested in while he decided to open a new club in the city .

( to be added )

[forever-eternal]

To fully explain the Cryptidness of a Country/Government Personification; such as Gov and Assistant, we need to break it down into four parts.

1 - Human Forms

2 - Casually Monstrous

3 - Comprehensible Horror

4 - Incomprehensible Horror

Of course, examples and comparisons (usually between Gov, Assistant and the States) will be necessary to explain to my best abiltiy. And what Personifications actually are will be explained in a different post.

Let’s start with something simple; Human Forms!

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Human Forms

So, a Government’s human form is similar to a States’; uncanny and wrong in every possible way, but there’s an undertone of…something. It feels as if you’re looking at something you shouldn’t, something your eyes should just glide over because your mind can’t comprehend it.

However, because of their strong Do-Not-Notice-Me aura, this is only ever recognized when they want it to be.

Unlike other personifications Do-Not-Notice-Me, which drops and fades when they’re weak/sick or when they cause enough of a ruckus, Government’s aura’s get stronger when they’re weak/unable to control it (no matter how much of a scene they cause, no one will see through it). This can result in no one even seeing them, let alone comprehending they exist. Photos and videos are ill-advised unless the government personification is willing and informed beforehand, lest your camera system implode on itself.

Otherwise, they function pretty much the same as any other personification.

---------

Casually Monstrous

This is more common when they’re pissed off or trying to threaten someone.

As seen in ‘Under My Protection’, Robin’s teeth get incredibly long and sharp, mouth growing wider than should be possible (like a snake), and her nails grow into claws. Her eyes become black irises on white seclera and white pupils.

Her environment shifts to be dark, not without light but as if the shadows are corporeal and blocking the way. Many eyes of different sizes, but all the same black iris and white pupils, open along the shadows.

Gov grows scales along his arms, nails also turning to claws, and his already prominent canines lengthen and curve, like venomous snake fangs on the top and bottom rows. The bitemark he leaves has four fang holes, with the top two being larger and deeper, but the rest of the bite looks like pinpricks.

He gains four extra eyes, incredibly small to the point no one really notices until he looks directly at them. Both sets are next to each other beneath his regular eyes. His eyes are bright green, with a similar pattern to a snake, but his pupils are more eagle-like.

These forms are usually only done when they don’t plan on leaving someone alive, but there are certain situations where killing them doesn’t give them what they want.

Seeing these forms with their Do-Not-Notice-Me dropped even slightly can start to fracture someone's perceptions. This mental fracture can be healed overtime with care, but leaves them more susceptible to further physical deterioration and mental decay. Of the two, Robin is Casually Monstrous the most.

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Comprehensible Horror

A taste of the gods in human bodies, a small piece of a greater whole molded to fit their own needs. They are massive, horrific, but with the Do-No-Notice-Me they can be seen and comprehended in small doses by whom they choose to be.

Adam takes the form of a snake, burrowing close to the core of the earth beneath the heart of the America. Six eyes catch every movement as his massive form blends into the shadows, fitting and hiding in places he should not fit. Able to change his size, but can not get longer than than 5,800 miles (the approximate length of the USA). He remains coiled and slightly smaller, in order to move around a little easier, but he is still enormous most of the time.

Robin gets tall–a little shorter than Hyperion, she can’t fit most places, but can force herself into a smaller body— minimum of 20 feet tall. A total of eight arms, the ‘human’ set remains clasped in front of her for the most part. Her two main eyes are shut, with one on her forehead and several on the backs of her hands, as well as the ones in the corporeal shadow walls. Extra limbs may extend from the shadows as well, usually elongated and bony. Her body is made entirely of shadows and light. She doesn’t take this form often, but when she does come out Adam likes to shrink and coil around her shoulders like a feather boa.

They may be horrifying and inhuman creatures, but they are still in love.

---------

Incomprehensible Horror

When every Government and Assistant personification merges, you get the incomprehensible horrors that are Infinity and Eternity.

A mix of Everything and Nothing, their true forms cannot remain on Earth for long– far too large and imposing, too dangerous to look at. To look at their true forms is deadly, your atoms split and burn into nothing.

If they wish to have a bit more class, to be able to converse even slightly with the Earthly Personifications they represent, they will take the form of something earthly– animals, humans, natural monuments–, goliaths in the astral plane between Empty and Full. They always look like a shifting universe, endless stars and color and darkness. Their eyes are always glowing white and pupiless, their mouths a black hole.

Their eyes project a million rebirths and a million deaths of the universe, a cloud of genesis and ending in their gaze. The sound like every voice in every language all at once– unless they purposefully try to communicate in one language–, but they sound like nothing at the same time.

They are things the human mind can’t comprehend, let alone attempt to describe. Their presence fills the air with a pressure that rips you apart at the seams.

[bean-pole-art]

The Sunray Chaser

fandom: Borderlands relationship: Rhysothy word count: 15920 rating: M warnings: check the fic's notes please summary: Ever since Handsome Jack died, Timothy tried to live a life on his own. Every day filled with the same tasks and empty thoughts. Loneliness swallowing him through.

Until one day he rescues a beautiful stranger.

--

for Rhysothy Week day 4 prompt - redemption

--

It’s been like this every single day since he had escaped.

Wake up. Stare at yourself for too long. Recall every painful memory that got you there. Maybe punch that picture you keep around, just for a little bit of mood boost. Even if it didn’t help too much, an artificial smile on his face was still worth it. Then go hunting. Maybe at the end, after you collect the loot and carcass do something for yourself. And repeat. The wonderful life of the ex-doppelganger it was, right?

Timothy didn’t want to dwell too much on this. Ever since he had escaped Handsome Jack, he had tried to keep it low. Hence right there and then in the wastelands of Pandora he snuck around, hoping to find enough to eat for the next following day. Surviving from one to the other – that was enough.

Or at least he tried to act like it was. Definitely took getting used to but Timothy seemed to get a grip on the situation. Day by day, he walked through the desert, hiding in the shadows just to catch something. On the right days, he could get creatures going around the carcasses. It usually meant a bounty for two. Yet on some days, the areas were dry. The Dust’s sandstorms assaulted his eyes as he tried to shoot just a random skag, walking around. Today was definitely the latter.

It was still a surviving game of all sorts. Right after the death of Handsome Jack, the whole Pandora changed to reflect it. People everywhere burnt billboards of his fake smiles welcoming them to Pandora. From what Timothy had heard, there were people ready to kill the doppelgangers for existing. And even the last piece for Hyperion, its’ value of weapons started to collapse. As people didn’t even want to kill with weapons made by a dictator.

Despite all of this, Timothy kept going. Hiding around the rocks, finding perfect positions to snipe from. Life seemed to verify his skills one by one. Thankfully, the conditions just like these were what he had trained for. For all the things Handsome Jack took from him, he at least gave him an opportunity to learn how to fight.

Or maybe it was another curse in disguise. At least without it, he’d be as dead as all other doppelgangers.

read the rest here!!

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

The Kanagawas=Hydra Heads was just a visual I had, by no means a suggestion. I love the idea that they're all the same person just split over and over. Imagine how infuriating it is to be expected as one thing, one way, and reaffirm over and over again who you really are. (And Cecil- oh Cecil. You fucked up little man you-)(And Cass! Oh Cass. She's trying so hard to make something of herself, to escape the doom of a Kanagawa but alas. Can't outrun a legacy)

My "Hyperion City loves Juno Steel bc that's her blorbo" equal to "Hyperion City/universe loves Mick Mercury bc that's their special little guy" ckskdkkjddjdj I love the idea/concept of a place loving someone so so much (see: Hyperion City Talks Back, my fic for WWDITS, my love for @.eatingjupiter's story THE CHANGING HOUSE) Mick with nine lives and counting mwah mwah-

Oh Sarah. Sarah Steel... to see the ugly parts of yourself reflected back at you through a mirror, a mirror you never asked for. A reflection you can't bare. A reminder that no matter what, you can't change or make a difference. Her wanting to get away from her own shadow makes a lot of sense. Killing Ben was killing the thing that haunts her, and killing herself could've been guilt, could've shame, cowardice, etc. Sarah’s murder-suicide was started but never complete because Juno's still around. Still alive. Alive and forced to carry all of her baggage. Of course though no one will ever know what really went through Sarah's head when she shot Benzaiten. She's dead.

MONSTERFUCKER JUNO STEEL RIGHTS. That is all.

M'tendere has my heart. I don't care what they've done I will turn a blind eye lol. Being able to breathe life into inanimate objects, smth smth- canon m'tendere being an inventor, their voice actor Anjimile and boy king's song "Maker" (I'm not just a man I'm I'm god/ I'm not just a God I'm a maker/ mind your maker) IDK IDK I just love it all. It speaks to me. M'tendere is not a God but is blessed and has powers they shouldn't be capable of (smth smth living is agony, it's hard out here in the big mean world to do it alone, breathing life into an inanimate thing... smth smth my brain worms for this are now crossing over into my brain worms for my canon hc "Juno breathed life back into a dead name, Peter Nureyev, and gave the thief without a name, a home").

Juno being a hunter and stalking birds and mice to curb his craving for raw meat. And then spotting movement and curiously pursuing it. Smth or other about being a feral cat...

Peter's fifth sense kicking in so ofc he whips around looking for what's tracking him. Telling himself "you're just paranoid" and carrying on (and then when he is shot and hogtied going Damn Mag was right you're rusty lmaoooo)

Juno seeing double because of his mismatched eyes is sooo fascinating. Thinking on how fucked his depth perception is and he still carrys a shotgun.

AND OOOOOOO PETERS MULTIPLE EYES STOP!! I am. An absolute [redacted] for multiple eyes. He just gets prettier and prettier by the second *bats my eyes*

And yes yes yes yes- prey is predator becomes prey! Hiding behind masks and glamours and magic to survive out there in that big, mean, cold world.

Rita being Rita as always. She's so cute. I would love little trinkets like what she provides Juno. Her gift giving is her love language or smth.

Other questions: Did M'tendere breathe life into what became the Ruby7? What's up with Peter in the woods alone? Is he actually injured or smth? You've mentioned it a few times with Mick, the Kanagawas, and M'Tendere- what does it mean to be "blessed"? Is it like a religious thing? Are there gods in this universe (dead or alive)? Is it just a magical thing? And saying Lady Luck, is it a metaphorical or literal existence? What's up with the sludge Peter's weeping in his second set of eyes, the black and red stuff? And what about the tattoos!! Tell me about them! (And the piercings pretty please)

Hey! So, uh, I have some more stuff for the fae-hunter jupeter au, if you'd like to hear it? Regarding some more about the background and things and the other characters and also some intrusive thoughts Juno has regarding the cannibalism?

Oh fuck yeah babey lay it on me. This is the best Steel Twin Birthday Present and no other holiday or event going on irl I could've woken up to ever! And also does it mean anything if I say I have more thoughts on my monster hunter au bc I have a lot of new thoughts about it

[yonemurishiroku]

Sorry I found it hysterical that TSATS felt the need to give Will 'dark' plague powers after going on and on about his sun powers because we literally had an entire book about how dangerous and violent and destructive the sun can be. That was definitely a theme in The Burning Maze. When Nico's upset the air around him freezes and when Will gets upset it should get uncomfortably hot to the point where his touch burns. Normally he can calm people down by making them feel like standing in the sunshine on a nice day but he can also make it sweltering and stifling. If Nico feels too dead to the living then Will should feel too alive to the dead. Will doesn't mean to make Nico uncomfortable with his light- but it often means there's no longer any shadows for Nico to fall back on; there's nowhere for him to hide or reach out to for comfort.

Ikr?

I mean. Yeah it's great that Rick went for the "opposite but actually complement" and I like Plague!Will as the next person but like. There could be more to the originial Dark & Light dynamic - which happens to be the one major thing about them.

Especially considering the fact that - as you've mentioned - part of it has already been established. Gosh Rick needs to keep notes of his canon materials. There're also abundant materials to work with, as well! Those you sent^^^ for example. Brilliant representation. I'd take it anyway.

I guess Rick thought Plague is a somewhat resemblance of Nico's Death-thing so it'd be a figure of their Death vs Life dynamic. And in a way, it is! I'm just disappointed that we could have had so much more, you know?

Among Apollo's children, we have Kayla as the archer, Austin as the musician, and Will as a healer. We have yet to have any child with his Driver of the Sun Chariot status - which, as it is, turns out to have the most potentials to be downright destructive if you play your cards right (I mean. look at Hyperion).

Though, in hindsight, I suppose we might be a little bit delusional to put Will in that Sun category. I'm not sure. Rick plans to have Will as the healer - who inherits Apollo's healing talents, not a fighter who supposedly embraces his Sunny side, so maybe that's why our ideas don't align.

(Also? Forever salty that Will's plague power is brushed away like it's nothing. The guy gave the primordial of Night hay fever for Tartarus' sake. Srsly the next step should be wrapping him up to avoid spreading and treating him like a biology terrorist)

[biowaredisasterbisexual]

Thursday Bangers

Hey! It’s even still Thursday as I’m doing this! Look at me go!

Thanks for the tag, @thedissonantverses

Rules for your Copy and Paste: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

I'm prepared to sacrifice my life I would gladly do it twice - Mercy by Shawn Mendes

I’ll drop very gentle tags, if they haven’t done this one yet, for: @ofcrowsanddragons, @basedonconjecture, @bygonesigh, @lurkiestvoid, @hyperions-light, @mythals-whore, @jouskaroo, @davrinsleftpectoral, @seaglassmelody, @grimrevolution, @cocoboots, and @mageofquandrix, and to anyone who wants to! You’re it!

I did angst the last time…so why change now?

“Rook?” Tarquin’s whispered entreaty was the first sound over their comms since the din of shouting and gunshots and Rook’s order to stay outside had given way to terrifying, staticky silence.

Neve had known this had been a bad idea. Had felt it in her gut as soon as they’d arrived.

She should have trusted that feeling.

Tarquin’s only answer was silence. Not even a whisper from Rook.

“This is stupid.” She said into her microphone, gripping her scepter and coming out from her hiding place in the shadows. “We need to go after him.”

“We don’t even know what’s going on in there,” Tarquin pointed out. “Rook was our eyes.”

He was right. And she hated that he was right. Hated even more going into anything blind.

But it didn’t look like they had much choice.

“Then we’ll have to go inside and use our own.” She didn’t wait for his reply as she headed to the door, and she heard the soft clinking of his armor — a combination of enchanted ceramic plating and thin over kevlar — as he drew up behind her.

Tarquin pushed open the door and, much to Neve’s surprise, they were greeted by a darkened room, thick with the acrid smell of smoke, and…silence.

It was empty. Or at least appeared to be. So where were the cultists? The slaves?

Where was Rook?

Neve quickly cast a small light spell — nothing that would be seen from outside, but enough to hopefully not trip over anything, either benign or not, as they cased the warehouse.

The smoke in the air hung thick, suspended in the weak light she provided. It was a familiar scent, but from wood fires as a child, there was no lingering resonance against the veil. It had been a mundane fire, not a magical one.

The floor boards creaked beneath them as they stalked closer to the smoke’s source. As she squinted through the haze, she could see a lone figure. Whoever it was had braced themself against a pillar, and, though standing, wasn’t moving much. The acrid sting of smoke was blurring her vision with unshed tears, and the inside of Neve’s nose burned.

Tarquin stepped forward, and a floor board broke, the sound like a gunshot in the quiet.

He scrambled back, as Neve grabbed his shoulder to help keep him from falling through the floor.

The figure in the smoke pushed themself fully upright at the commotion. “I’m not in a good mood, so if you don’t mind just turning around, whoever you are? That’d be swell.”

Relief flooded her body at the sound. “Rook?”

“Oh! Hey Neve! And…Tarquin? I’m guessing?” Rook’s voice called.

“Picked a hell of a time to finally shut up,” Tarquin grumbled in response. But despite the complaint, he was striding forward, undoubtedly to drag Rook back outside with them and Neve followed.

Unlike Tarquin, who best she could tell was keeping his eyes on Rook’s silhouette through the haze, Neve watched the floor as best she could. Her ears could track Rook now that he was talking just fine, but knowing where he was would do them no good if they went through the damaged floors.

Even with the light though, or honestly with the reflectiveness of the smoke perhaps because of it, it was hard to make out details down near their feet. Rook’s figure dropped down to a low crouch; watching where the smoke was thinner, she realized.

“Wait, guys, don’t—”

Rook didn’t finish his warning. He didn’t need to, as a glowing circle appeared as if from nowhere beneath their feet.

Venhedis. They’d stepped into a trap.

“Don’t move.” Rook’s voice was laced with steel; an order, not a suggestion, as serious as she’d ever heard him give. “I know these markings. It’s pressure activated — primer and detonator both. So stay still.”

She watched him through the smoke as he carefully circled their bar-less prison cell, moving with a limp that suggested an injury to his knee or ankle. Possibly both.

The wait felt unending as she and Tarquin nearly held their breath to avoid accidentally shifting their weight.

Finally near the edge of the circular trap, Rook’s face came into view. He’d taken off his mask, and his eyes were narrowed in focus as they darted between Neve, Tarquin, and the glowing indicator that they were all fucked.

Rook let out a slow breath. “That should do it,” he murmured as though speaking to himself.

“What should do what?” Tarquin asked.

“All in good time.” The tone was teasing, but there was a tightness to it. He was nervous.

In a move that Neve could only compare to a wrecking ball, Rook threw himself through the air in their direction, flinging all three of them out of the circle. “Make a small target,” he shouted as they landed, and in her peripheral vision she saw Tarquin curl in on himself.

For her part, she could barely move as Rook’s body covered hers, resting heavily against her.

The trap’s detonation was deafening as a flash of near blinding light lit the room and the floor shook. Dozens of small projectiles lodged themselves in the floor and wooden pillars around them. A shrapnel trap, then, a large one.

She heard Tarquin grunt as pieces of jagged metal bounced off his armor, and it hit her with absolute clarity what Rook’s plan had been.

If you just sacrificed yourself for me, I’m not sure I’ll be able to forgive you.

[charmingbrute]

"Compared to the Source, the sun causes greater harm here. You must preserve your skin." Y'shtola quietly explains as she takes out the homemade sunscreen from the tiny jar. She hopes that it will work effectively and shield her friend from the harm that the light can inflict. The priests of the Night's Blessed have blessed this ointment and she completely trusts their skills. With the utmost delicacy,  gentle fingertips begin to draw lines and patterns on her partner's back. Despite his skin's calloused appearance, Y'shtola caresses his muscles as if they were made of porcelain. When she lightly grazes some of his recent and ancient scars, her fingers become even more gentle in their touch. "Hyperion, I hope I'm not hurting you." She says the new name with the same sweetness that she caresses his body with her fingers. Her heart beats quicker as a result of the new and odd proximity, but she makes an effort to maintain her composure. The witch is careful not to display any signs of her feelings toward him, should they suggest how profoundly he has touched her. She resists her desire to move close to him and give him neck and shoulder kisses because doing so would trigger a range of strong emotions that she couldn't manage.

The Warrior of Darkness moved with a quiet grace, onto the nearby water, his muscles rippling beneath his clothing as he worked the knots out of his tired limbs. He dipped his hands into the cool liquid and splashed his face, feeling the grime and sweat of the day slide off of him. He lingered there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of the water before he straightened and made his way back to camp. There, he settled himself before the flickering flames of the fire, his back to the heat as he let the warmth seep into his bones. He wore everything back but his chest armor, revealing the hard lines of his torso, bronzed by the sun and marked with scars of battles past. It was a sight to behold, and one that did not go unnoticed.

A little sun never hurt anyone but the light in this world is more harmful than aught else. He'd be wiser to remember it, he was informed.

A flush rose to Hyperion's cheeks as the Miqo'te approached him, offering a small pot of protective balm. He ought to take it from her and apply it himself, but before he could even reach out, she had already begun to rub the soothing ointment into his skin, no questions asked. Well, he couldn't complain. The sensation was pleasant, almost too much so. They had to keep up appearances, of course. They couldn't let anyone suspect what had passed between them in the privacy of their sanctuary, so even just a satisfied smile won't do. But it was getting harder and harder to maintain the facade, especially when she touched him like this.

He wasn't all that good at behaving, not when it came to her. He hadn't succeeded in hiding how much she affected him, simply by letting her fingers dance on the surface that was he. He tried to keep his breathing even as she worked on his skin, tried to keep his expression neutral. Oh, what a terrible job it was. He could feel his mind racing, pounding in his chest, so much that she could probably feel it, too. Quietly, he wondered if she wasn't a stranger to her effect, if she could sense the way he longed to reach out and touch her in return. But he didn't dare. Appearances had to be kept, had to make sure that no one suspected what had passed between them.

The fire crackled and spat behind them, casting dancing shadows across their faces, but he hardly noticed it. All he could think about was her, the softness of her fingers, how they would oft wrap around his throat, hold him and keep him in place. He had to pretend they meant naught, that they never once made him drop to his knees and speak prayers in her name. When she finished applying the balm, he thanked her in a low voice, hoping that she couldn't hear the way his voice shook.

[ssozo]

Perhaps from the drabble prompts "alone + reunion" for Jack?

helios was a shattered wreck amongst him.

as eddie picked through the shards of broken glass and twisted metal, the corpses of hyperion workers tossed like ragdolls amidst the pandoran sand, all he could think was thank god jack wasn't alive to see this.

the sun was rising, slowly but surely, and as he surveyed the ruins of an empire he never wanted, eddie recalled exactly what had led to his downfall.

<-->

"youre shorter than i remember, jack." eddie has one hand threaded through rhys's hair, his gun pointed towards the man's temple, finger resting on the trigger, and the threat is there. sure, jack is in helios now. but without rhys he has no body to take over.

"what, the giant closeup doesnt do it for ya, kitten?"

the finger tightens over the trigger and rhys whimpers.

jack continues, as if oblivious to the danger. he's not.

"i'm surprised how little you've redecorated the place- didnt you always complain about my decor?"

eddie's face betrays no emotion save for a slight tightening in the brows. unreadable to all but the ai studying him.

"do you know how hard it's been running this place?"

"uh, yeah, i was-"

"not just as a company. everyone expects me to be just *like* you, jack. just as cunning and smart and vicious. and i *am.* but im also so, so tired. do you know how hard it is trying to match your shadow, when all i did before was hide in it?"

jack smirks. "then let me back in, baby. we can go right back to how we were, i promise ya. just let the kid go."

the façade falls, and even rhys can read the tiredness etched into every feature of eddie's face. he doesn't notice rhys reach for his stun baton. jack says nothing as he aims for eddie's temple, knocking the smaller man out in one heavy blow.

<-->

eddie wakes in the wreckage of jack's office, curled up underneath his desk. the first thing he does is reach for his echo device and check the time- he's been unconscious for almost two days.

the second thing he does is survey his body for injuries. beyond the throbbing pain where that code monkey had whacked him, and the bruises and thumps one could associate with falling from fucking space, he was miraculously unharmed.

the third, final, and perhaps most important thing he does, is stand on two wobbly legs and begin his march further into the desert.

let someone else clean this mess. let someone else take care of hyperion from now on. there was nothing for him here.