#despite the violent end of her enemy and her enemy’s party

[fideidefenswhore]

chapuys/mary truthers when you mention their relationship 1536-47:

[scuttlingcrab]

Fiendish Rewards

Summary: Raphael appears at Withers' party, hoping to finally collect the Crown of Karsus from Tav. However, an unexpected turn of events causes Raphael to re-think his plans.

Notes: Featuring growing tensions and light angst. I always wondered what would happen when Raphael wore the Crown for the first time. This might be a wee bit too long but I initially intended this to be another submission for @dmagedgoods Raphael romance collection.

Link to my other work in the Devil's Archive.

(Image via raphael-ancunin)

Raphael knew he was intruding. He had no business attending Withers' party, yet he arrived fashionably late all the same. He would never show his face, grace the companions with his presence, merely to exchange pleasantries. As tempting as their tadpole-free souls were, the simple minded mortals had no meaning to him now that the Elder Brain was defeated. That evening Raphael’s only desire was to collect the Crown of Karsus. And perhaps, converse with that little mouse, if time allowed. 

Thus, the Devil did what he knew best: lurked from the shadows of the wings and listened for his cue. 

Raphael had abided for over a millennium after he lost the Crown to Mephistopheles, lashing out with such violent anger in the first century that he nearly eradicated an entire plane. That initial taste of defeat never left his memory; the bitterness, that rotting feeling he felt deep within his core still haunted him. It was his first introduction to failure and the last. 

He eventually learned how to forge that frothing hatred for his father, his revulsion at the cursed cards he had been dealt with, into a far more superior weapon: knowledge, his greatest strength. Raphael researched, manipulated, and opened up the recesses of his mind to devour the ins-and-outs of the Hells. He painstakingly plotted, weaving his schemes into the very fabric of fate itself, planting the seeds of prosperity for what he hoped would eventually gain him a win.

Despite all Raphael had endured since the collapse of Netheril, the last 6 months had been the most excruciating. Waiting. Watching. Hoping. There was no longer an Archdevil in his path, but a mere mortal. His hunger for power grew rampant as he watched Tav continue to elude him, to harbour the final piece of his victory as she tried to reclaim what was left of her old life. That selfish creature. 

To Tav’s credit, she had been quite remarkable on the battlefield, showcasing her strength and resolve as she smited enemies and climbed through the carnage to her destiny. She left a sea of corpses in her wake, the mortal rubble alone was unlike anything Raphael had ever seen. Out of all the calamities he had been fortunate enough to craft and witness, being a spectator during the fight against the Netherbrain would forever be a highlight.

When the Crown fell into the River Chionthar, Raphael eagerly watched as Tav spent weeks fishing it out, taking her precious time as she retrieved each broken piece of his future. He restlessly stormed the halls of his domain, cursing the woman for attempting such an arduous task alone. He could have aided her, sent in Korrilla as a last resort, but he refused. He would not give Tav the satisfaction, she would have to work just a little more to complete her end of the bargain. Besides, there was something endearing about watching Tav work so diligently, the determination in those eyes reminded Raphael of himself.

The little mouse was Raphael’s greatest investment and he’d be damned if she failed him now, or if he let his sudden affinity for her overtake his true purpose. Raphael’s ambitions for the Crown had somehow intertwined with his infatuation for the woman, and he was just as much to blame.

He had let this farce go on for long enough. Raphael would not stoop so low in his final moments before he rose to glory. Once Tav crowned him, these foolish emotions would cease and he would continue with his grand plan. He was a Devil and he would not let these cursed mortal emotions falter his intentions any longer; he would never allow anything, anyone, to destroy his work. Raphael’s blood, sweat, and tears would not be in vain. 

Cheering suddenly came from the camp as Tav and her companions raised their chalices in celebration. Withers' speech had finally ended, much to Raphael’s delight. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could’ve listened to the monotonous dribble. The monologue was indeed rousing, but Raphael could’ve done better, if given the opportunity. 

One by one, the group of heroes slowly disbanded, until only Tav remained. She made her way around the camp, stopping by each empty tent. It was as if the little mouse was paying her respects, bidding farewell to the ghosts of her past.

When Tav was done she wandered to the lakefront and sat down on a mossy rock, staring into the sparkling evening sky. The light in her own eyes vanished, leaving a dark cloud looming above her. 

Raphael took that as his signal. He quietly removed himself from the cover of the treeline and began his entrance, approaching Tav with a swagger. 

“If it isn’t the hero of Baldur’s Gate. My, how far we’ve come! It feels like only yesterday you fell from the skies, tadpole and all, and began your little adventure; slowly scurrying your way to triumph.”

Tav smiled at the sound of Raphael’s voice, turning to greet him. They locked eyes, her expression brightening. That look pierced through Raphael’s defences with such ease, a slight chill crawling up from the base of his spine. He stopped in his tracks, quickly recovering by placing a hand on his hip. It had been too long since they were alone, when he had last gazed into those cursed eyes. Careful now. 

“Raphael, always the poet.”

“The little mouse is no longer, but now a ferocious lion. Congratulations are in order.”

Raphael gifted Tav with his most flourishing bow, hoping the gesture would distract from his earlier misstep.  

“Now do tell, how does it feel to be the victor? To have saved the world? Is it as the bards have sung?” Raphael rose, taking another step towards Tav. 

Tav merely shrugged, her lips quickly returning to a frown. 

“Dunno.”

“I would have thought a hero to be more eloquent.”

“I'm still waiting for that ‘ah-ha!’ moment, but if we’re being honest tonight, I’m not really sure what it means to be a hero.”

“You will come to understand eventually. It’s the very nature of your existence.”

Tav remained silent, pulling her eyes away from Raphael. She stared down at her hands, studying her scarred palms.

“May I?” Raphael inquired, gesturing towards the available space on the rock. 

Tav nodded and Raphael sat himself beside her, intentionally leaving a minimal amount of space between them.

“You have something that belongs to me.”

“There it is,” Tav said, through a faint laugh, “You know, I was expecting you to come sooner.”

“I’ve often found the best persuasions are the ones that aren't forced.”

Tav looked up at Raphael, her eyes moving over every inch of his guise, stopping briefly near his lips. He was close now, so close. To the Crown. To his objectives. And to that damned woman.  

“May I see the Crown, please?”

Tav smiled, moving towards Raphael. For a split second, Raphael expected a kiss. It was only natural for mortals to attempt such a distraction in times of distress. Infuriating as it was, he wouldn’t have been opposed to such a notion. Tav instead reached down for her backpack lying in the sand, placing it on her lap. 

She pulled open the straps and yanked out the Crown, handling it as if it was but a petty trinket. Raphael suppressed a sigh, he would not let the significance of this moment be soiled due to the mortal’s lack of formality. 

“I managed to reforge it, to the best of my abilities, thanks to the Annals of Karsus. Though I haven't tried it on yet to see if it worked.”

“A wise choice.” 

Tav held the Crown out towards Raphael, but he raised his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the Crown floated out of Tav’s grasp, slowly moving towards him. It was just as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so. It glistened under the moonlight, calling to him. Soon. Very soon. He let the Crown hover, spinning delicately, for a few more seconds.

“Do you need me to remind you of our terms? The deal was that you are to crown me. I would’ve come to you long ago if I could simply put it on myself.”

“Gods. Really, Raphael?” 

“Truly.” Raphael donned his notorious smirk in response.

“Fine, are we to do this here then?”

“I couldn't think of a more fitting location.” 

Raphael rose, walking towards the middle of the lakefront. He snapped his fingers, and a luscious red silk pillow appeared. He shifted it slightly in the sand and bent a knee, preparing himself for the crowning. 

“Come, it is time.” 

Tav stood intending to grab the Crown, but before she could reach it, Raphael beckoned it towards him. Tav quickly followed, positioning herself above Raphael. He raised his head to gaze at the magnificent sight in front of him. The moonlight framed Tav perfectly, she was silhouetted against the dark sky, glowing. The Crown and the little mouse, side-by-side, as it was always destined to be. 

Raphael took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He absorbed the scents and sounds around him; earthy tones, a hint of wetness, mixed with the fresh woodland air. Faint chirping from various insects called out to him, the leaves rustled slightly against the warm summer wind. His heartbeat intensified, growing more rapid, adding an extra drum beat to the night’s symphony. 

“Let’s get on with it then.” Tav spoke. 

Raphael opened his eyes and watched Tav grab the Crown, lowering it on top of his head. 

When the Crown touched his forehead, it reformed itself to accommodate his size, shrinking to provide a snugger fit. It hissed into place and then in an instant, everything changed. 

Pain, pleasure, fear, anger, confusion; every possible emotion tore through his very being. He was ripped in two, three, four… millions of tiny little pieces. His head throbbed with information, so many secrets, so much… he saw and felt everything, what could’ve been, what might come to pass… it was too much. Too much! Too fast! 

He fell forwards, his hands digging, ripping through sand. He was alone, always alone, darkness surrounded him. No. There was light, light flooded in from the top of his skull, projecting into every possible direction. He was the light. He was the dark. He was all-encompassing. 

Raphael screamed, his voice echoing into the abyss around him. He had never read about such a reaction, in all his years of researching, how could he have missed… could it be because… NO. He will tame this. He will persist. He will… 

The sand beneath Raphael turned to liquid as the newfound power continued to surge through his limbs, burning his veins. He tore at his own flesh and bones to rid himself of the agony, but it wouldn’t come to an end. 

“Raphael!” He heard a voice shout, such a familiar tune. But who? He couldn’t quite place it.

Raphael erupted, his devilish wings tearing through the skin in his back. There were flames all around him, growing hotter, thicker. His chest melted, his ears ached from the thunderous explosions. Whispers, whispers everywhere. He heard so many, and the cries, the screams. Would they never cease? 

Something tore at his head, pulling the Crown away from him. The Crown. NO! He cannot lose it again. Raphael raised his hands attempting to fight back, but he was grasping at nothing. It was over as fast as it had begun. There was now silence. 

Raphael’s vision cleared. He was on his back, looking up at the stars. Tav stood over him, holding the Crown in her hands. She eyed him with concern, tears flooding down her cheeks. He raised his own hands, his claws trembling. Raphael tried to think but his mind was vacant, every thought achingly bounced back. His skin burned, bones ached. There were deep lacerations all over his body, his own hands were covered in blood. He gasped, looking at Tav’s body but found no abrasions. He let out a disgruntled sigh. If he had harmed her in his rage, in those brief seconds of failure… would he ever forgive himself? 

Tav threw the Crown aside and helped Raphael to his feet. His eyes followed the artefact as it landed on top of the sand, taunting him still. How?

As if reading Raphael’s mind, Withers' voice cut through the silence as he appeared before them.

“Thou hast succeeded but are not yet ready. Take care that thou are not too hasty, thine pursuits will lead to plights.” There was a long pause as Withers continued staring at Raphael, looking straight through him. He met Withers’ expressionless gaze, waiting for him to continue. “The pattern has been woven and all circumstances interlaced are as fate decided.” 

Raphael never imagined the consequences of his premature investiture. He was always going to reforge the Crown himself, in his own image. How could he possibly trust a mortal to handle such a relic successfully? But in the heat of the moment, and in the fine print of the very deal he crafted, he had opened himself up to carelessness, becoming the very thing he despised.

His eyes darted to Tav, searching the woman for any excuse against his actions but he could only look at her with veneration. He would not blame her for everything. His vanity, eagerness… his obsession for the Crown and that cursed woman nearly brought him to his untimely demise. Let this be a lesson to Raphael to heed his own warnings. The Devil would need to cool his heels in preparation for the battles looming ahead.

Raphael turned to face Withers, but the curious being had vanished. Instead he hummed thoughtfully, looking at Tav. 

She stood next to him, her body trembling. Tav's eyes were fixed on Raphael, still full of worry but there was something else present, another emotion he thought he’d never see from a mortal again.

Tav’s expression sent a sudden stabbing pain through his chest as a wave of nostalgia washed over him. There was another mortal who had once looked at him with the same kindness and understanding. He had buried it deep within his subconscious, but it was rising back to the surface, like a blooming flower. He would NOT allow himself anymore turmoil this evening.

“I owe you my thanks.” Raphael whispered, his voice on the verge of cracking.

“Raphael, I don’t understand, you were nea…” 

“If you value your life, you will hold your tongue. There will be no talk of this moment again. Ever. Have I made myself clear?”

Tav’s eyes widened at his sudden change of tone, but she nodded nonetheless. 

“I must return to my House of Hope. For healing and reflection. There is work yet to be done, as you have borne witness to this evening.” Raphael snapped his fingers, a raging portal materialised behind him. “You may join me, if you so wish.”

Raphael extended his arm, welcoming her acceptance. 

“Would you consider our deal completed then?” Tav asked, apprehensively. 

“You have upheld your end of the agreement, exceptionally well, might I add, bar this evening's hiccup. Now please, let me show you my appreciation.” 

A dash of colour appeared on Tav’s cheeks as she wiped away the remaining tears. She grabbed her backpack, placing the Crown inside. She swiftly reached for Raphael’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Raphael nodded in acknowledgment and led Tav through the portal. 

Indeed, their deal was complete, but Raphael wasn’t done with Tav yet. She would continue to prove a valuable ally and more in the months to come.

[aghastro]

Two characters I developed for a wizard-themed OCT years ago. That's an "Original Character Tournament" For the uninformed! A collaborative comic-making game where you have your characters fight and advance a story. (there are non-battle versions, but that's besides the point)

I never finished my audition comic, but these two remain. I ran into them in my old notes a few days ago and thought I'd share them somewhere, finally

This is all their old concept art, and some stuff about em. I'm too lazy to fix the signatures on these to my modern username so don't worry about that.

Whellik is an Odd girl and only child of a wicked enchantress. (Whether by adoption or by birth, it's unclear.)

They are both deeply paranoid people. They live together in a floating fortress, their only companions being sentinels made with the enchantress' own magic.

The enchantress is obsessed with gaining eternal life- Or rather, she's obsessed with getting one over on hypothetical enemies that may want her dead. She refuses to be killed, because being killed means losing, being lesser, and has tasked her meek, obedient daughter with an important mission to harvest the magic necessary to become unkillable.

Whellik is not a strong person, mentally or physically. Should the tournament have gone forward with her in it, my idea was that her first "win" would've been by complete chance; an environmental accident, the other wizard's spell backfiring, etc. Once a sorcerer was effectively "fallen" the lantern would be used to remove all of their power-- a very painful and deeply unnatural process for both parties.

She really doesn't like doing this. But what choice does she have?

Let Mother down?

Despite having zero contact with her mother once leaving the fortress, she continues to criticize Whellik's every decision. Each cruel, self-depreciating feeling in her mind is narrated in her mother's voice. She begins to see distorted apparitions with her mothers face, but mistakes them for long-distance, magical communications of some sort.

They would've become more aggressive and tangible to her as the tournament- and her violent magical theft- progressed.

I wish I went thru with the competition! It would've been fun to adapt to what powers Whellik would've gotten with each traumatic victory. It would've also been.... interesting...... to ask people if I could permanently remove their oc's magic forever. (It's commonly a rule in these things to ask your opponent first if you can kill their character- I feel like Magic Death would be similarly grave)

I had some ideas in my mind about the true nature of the lantern that I have tucked away on the chance I end up finding a new OCT that she could be reworked into. Who knows! "Why not a standalone story?" She's narratively designed to be a springboard for other characters- Most of the fun for me was going to be working with what my opponents had going for them! It's not impossible though.

Here's more pictures of her shithead mother

Woman Who Sucks. Incredibly fun to draw, though.

[reds-skull]

My pc is in a repair shop and I got nothing to do, so here's a list of fic ideas I'll probably never do anything with, in no particular order:

Ghost, SAS Lieutenant, needs to gather intel from a secret agent at a party. He doesn't know how the man looks, only the agreed upon signal. Cut to Soap, the secret agent, trying very hard to save Ghost from an enemy that somehow knew the signal and is now taking Ghost to a more "secure area".

Soap is a councilor at a prestigious summer camp, along with a few others. He doesn't really fit in with the rest, far too rich to relate to, so he spends most of his time taking care of a memorial for one Simon Riley, who died in the nearby lake 10 years ago. When Ghost, a local hunter, starts terrorizing the camp, Soap is somehow spared. Eventually Ghost goes on a murder spree, despite Soap's efforts to stop him, but when the other councilors tried to prank Soap, Ghost didn't really care to end their lives over it.

Ghost encounters an SAS soldier on the field, from a different squad. He soon finds out the soldier is non verbal. Which is a problem when they're in an active warzone, and he doesn't know sign language. Through a lot of pointing and miming, they somehow find a way to survive, and Ghost comes to like the company of 'Soap', as the man pointed to one when he asked for his name.

Soap is a famous actor, with a beautiful girlfriend, big movie on its way, and millions of fans across the world. His coworkers, Gaz, Price, and his bodyguard Ghost, are ones he considers close friends at this point. It all comes crashing down when he finds his girlfriend cheating on him. Not a day later, her room is trashed, threats and warnings to stay away from Soap carved into the walls. Soap and Ghost uncover the existence of a stalker, one that is slowly becoming more and more violent. All the while, Soap finds himself in his first romance movie, imagining his bodyguard in the place of his supposed love interest.

Ghost doesn't give attention to most soldiers on his base, and especially not to Soap MacTavish. The Scottish Sergeant is the most unserious, annoying bastard he ever had the misfortune of knowing. His view of him changes when they're assigned on a mission together, and Ghost witnesses just how skilled Soap really is. Over time, he finds out why Soap keeps on a mask of a bumbling idiot, and digs deeper into the strange behavior of his superiors. Namely, how they seem to almost sabotage Soap every step of the way.

Ghost and Gaz are sent on a mission in the Russian tundras, to salvage intel from an abandoned prison complex. Only, they soon find it's not abandoned at all - a single man is locked behind bars, surrounded by dozens of guards. After rescuing him, the 141 soon discovers he suffers from amnesia, and only remembers his callsign, Soap. As foreign forces continue to attempt to kidnap Soap back, and as his memory comes back, John MacTavish comes to a horrifying conclusion: he betrayed his old squad, and his capture was not accidental. His original mission? Infiltrate the 141, and bring it down.

Simon Riley, owner and butcher at his own small shop, suspiciously eyes the man that has been hanging around his shop for the last 15 minutes. He's going to kick him out if he doesn't buy anything, and he tells the man so, but the fear he recognizes in his eyes stalls him. Ghost catches a flash of a camera outside the window, and the man tells him he's actually hiding from 'them'. Ghost, built as he is, simply goes and scares them away. The man inside brightens, and introduces himself as John. From that day on, John comes back, bringing tea and breakfast at the early opening hours. Ghost finds it a little weird, but the company becomes comforting soon enough. Once, he let it slip to John that the shop isn't doing too well, and the very next day a slew of costumers arrived at his doorstep, muttering excitedly about a "Soap MacTavish". It's only when his old mates Price and Gaz come by the shop, that Ghost discovers his friend "John" is no other than the famous actor nicknamed "Soap". Simon doesn't understand the shock on Price and Gaz's face even after the name is revealed, and Soap loves him all the more for it.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Howdy Mr. Dapper! Your ideas for zhuzhing up different gods are always so cool, I was wondering if you had any for Grummsh? Either keeping him as a patron of orcs but losing the evilness, or making him believably evil but not relegating him to one people?

Deity: Gruumsh, God of Grudges

The soldiers let me and my boy through the wall because they thought we’d be useful. Making leather’s foul work but someone’s got to mend their armour and boots. A few years go past and my boy gets bigger, starts looking like he might be a problem, so they start looking for excuses, and they keep finding excuses until they have him on the ground and are beating him to death with the boots I made them. 

Ruiner, they have taken my son so let me have this instead: Help me live long enough to slip my knife under their skin, Help me flay every last one of the bastards , Help me give back this pain they’ve given me. I do not want it. 

-Grimma, orcish tanner and resistance leader

As much as the kindhearted would like to deny it, there are some hatreds that are holy, some transgressions that can not be forgiven, some hurts that will not ease until they are avenged. These are the province of Gruumsh, the Ruiner, Father of the wronged. Gruumsh is a god to curse by, a god to get you through bitter times, and he lends his strength and fathomless anger to those who have been hard done by. Gruumsh is defined by his symbol of the gouged eye, a wound that will not close forced upon him by enemies yet to be brought to justice. 

That justice however does not resemble anything that could be codified in law. Gruumsh is known as the Ruiner because often the ultimate culmination of his worship is just that: the violent obliteration of both his worshipper and those that wronged them, a closed circle of bloodshed and loss that balances the scales through pain. 

Adventure Hooks

A storm has driven the party and several other travellers to take shelter in a roadhouse, delaying their days long journey to the next settlement but giving them a chance to get cozy by the fire, maybe trade some gossip with the others. Storytime is however interrupted when a deadman begins hammering at the door, demanding for someone to let him in so that he can wreak vengeance on those that murdered him. Interrogating the dead man through the door reveals that he was making his way towards the inn when set upon by masked figures who robbed him of his possessions and left him dead in a ditch with a prayer to the Ruiner on his lips. Its up to the party to piece together which of their dinner companions might’ve done the deed, or else the revnant is likely to break in, kill them all, and let Gruumsh sort it out. 

An orcish noblewoman needs the party’s help in recovering a number of important items stolen from her family’s chapel. She was on the eve of brokering a peace with a rival noble house and putting an end to generations of bloodfued when someone broke in, defaced their altar, and stole several mementos that are not only important to her family but also empowered with a dangerous magic. Most of her people blame thieves,  the rival faction, or the disfavour of Gruumsh himself, though if the party search hard enough the evidence may just point them in the direction of her hot blooded younger brother who feels as if he’s yet to prove himself in the family’s ongoing conflict. 

An enterprising land baron attempted to oust the local hermit from his land and ended up getting some divine wrath for his trouble, the old crank’s curse bringing down a celestially empowered chimera to harry the baron and rampage across his holdings. Landlords are parasites, and while the party might be tempted to let the beast despite the generous reward he offers, there is also the matter of the other people live on his various tenant farms who’ve been caught in the literal crossfire. Perhaps there’s a more equitable way to end this, especially since killing the beast ( or the hermit, as the landlord subtly entreats) may bring Gruumsh’s wrath down on them. 

As with gods like the Allhammer or the Archheart, Gruumsh can be worshipped by any but is most often depicted as an orc, with some myths claiming that the first orcs rose up in legion from the drops of blood spilled from the Ruiner when his eye was first taken. Some of his priests, known as grudgekeepers like to joke that the famed orcish resilience in the face of grievous harm  is one of Gruumsh’s favourite gifts, the chance to strike back against your murderer one last time before death comes to claim you. 

There are few temples dedicated to the Ruiner, and those do exist often serve as monuments to wrongs so great that could not be avenged. Likewise those devotees who extend their faith into public practice tend to preach to others seeking to memorialize, or to ferment public agitation against some great personal or social injustice that must be corrected. Some societies try to suppress worship of the ruiner, fearing that he incites the same pain he claims to avenge, but in these austere cultures where the mighty may do as they please Gruumsh has little need of temples: his shrines are the bloodstains that can’t be cleaned off the street, his prayers are made in defaced edifices and vulgar words shared between those who suffer.

Signs: Fresh blood remembering old violence, rage so pure it distorts reality, physical cracks in symbols of authority

Symbols: A lone bleeding eye, nails driven into a resilient surface over and over and over again.

Titles: The Ruiner, The Unblinking, He who never sleeps

Art

[horizon-verizon]

I feel like I watched a completely different episode from people claiming he’s trying to be a good king. Did people not see the fact he doesn’t take his small council meeting, while on the verge of war, seriously? He was more interested in silly pony games than the actual work of ruling. He dragged a toddler to the meeting to “prepare him to rule” but then wanted to be fun dad while again, the country is about to be in a war where both sides have nukes.

In the throne room, he’s more interested in trying to essentially buy love than making the hard decisions of being king. Same as when he’s drunking and brainstorming names for himself with the frat bros (instead of being with his wife and their children), he just wants people to love him, because he’s such a spoiled little shit that neither of his parents really did.

For my part I don’t think Aegon has been improved compared to season 1, this episode proved that he was incompetent and impulsive and he wants to make a lot of decisions in a hurry to the point that Otto and Alicent have to stop him from going too far and the fact that he wants to send Vaghar wherever all the time makes me realize how much he and the other Greens overestimate this dragon and they seem to rest all their hope on it while Caraxes, despite being younger and smaller, will end up killing her alone.

Aegon is trying to be the "good" king he thinks is "good" and gain the smallfolk's favor. It's a deal of "if I make them like me and just give them what they want in the moment (without regarding the disadvantages to either me or them if I agree), then whatever I do, I am genuinely a good king".

Is it disingenuous, of course. But yes he is trying to be a "good" king, and another part of that goodness is being unrelentingly violent or commanding or to expect others to bend to his will to get what he wants...bc yes there is an element to that in how the nobles of this society evaluates a "good" king already--that "ruthlessness" to accomplish one's goals or to annihilate OR subdue/disempower his enemies. Problem is that Aegon thinks he has to and is entitled to cross boundaries of select others whenever he wishes to "prove" he is king and that others must comply bc he is King and only their submission proves he is king even as he doesn't do anything t really show them why is rule would be in their long term or immediate interests/comfort. There is no balance or attempt at intelligently coming up with ways for pursuing the war or to rule the realm. He wants his cake and eat it, too, and tbf, in this world he very well could if he had been named heir...bc he has a penis.

With him, it's just his mercurial will and endless search for self-indulgence. Ironically, exactly like how many Rhaenyra antis-accused her of being, bk or show, when all evidence shows the opposite or her simply trying to cultivate autonomy and happiness while performing real/idea of duty.

So, in this way, Aegon is written brilliantly and TGC turns the party, i admit. They really conveyed his bk character so well. I actually didn't feel they were portraying a "likeable" person or a good father at all, he's still very negligent and more interested in Jaehaerys as an heir/self-affirmation. And he allows himself to bond w/Jaehaera even less bc she is female. (Not that I thought you were saying, anon, that they wrote him terribly. As you say, the episode proved how ridiculous he truly was and anyone who genuinely thinks he is a good person, father, or a ruler has some serious self examination to go through).

What would make it better if in the next episode he actually starts to sexistly call Rhaenyra all sorts of shit as he does in canon as he's doing his smashing fit thing or elsewise. I actually didn't mind the "green heavy" episode, both bc it was here at least interpersed w/black stuff but also tgc really gave it. And despite Phia's excellent acting, I simply cannot like the B&C scene and disagree with the possibility that canon greens exaggerated B&C. I mean, hello, in the bk Jae's head was cleanly cut off in one swoop while in the episode they sawed it off....less gory where?! We don't need to see gore or lack thereof to know its there or hear it happening and to compare which is worse.

So there's that.

[blooming-violets]

Creature Like Me || Chapter One: Solo Hunt

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands. 

Chapter One Warnings: depictions of torture and starvation, depictions of a violent death, use of a gun, blood and gore, is it animal cruelty/animal death if the animal is a werewolf?? 

A/N: This is an OC but please keep an open mind, read a paragraph or two, before you completely write off the story because it doesn’t have a “reader” insert character. Her descriptions are fairly minimal and her name is important to the story. Pretend you’re someone else for little bit and get lost in a world that’s not your own. Isn’t that what writing is for anyway? xoxoKatie

[link to chapter index]

The morning sun beamed soft, white light through the canopy of branches to illuminate the fog settled against the dewy grass. She watched the light push away the dark shadows of the forest as she plucked a handful of blueberries out of her pocket and plopped a few into her mouth. Mornings were never her favorite despite their inherent beauty. She preferred the tranquility of the night with nothing but the glow of the moon to guide her. She kept her love for the moon to herself. Those were thoughts she wasn’t allowed to have. Her guild worshiped the sun for it was the werewolf’s natural enemy. The wolves drew their power from the moon. It made them stronger, enhanced their natural abilities, and turned them into fierce warriors. As a hunter of the beast, her guild found safety in the light, but used the cover of the dark to hunt their prey. They saw the dangers of the night where she only saw serenity. 

“Aylin,” a deep, gravely voice fell over her shoulder. “Are you preparing for your hunt tonight or are you daydreaming again?” 

Aylin wiped the growing scowl from her face, replacing it with a passive smile, before she turned to greet her intruder, “Sergei. Good morning to you, too.” She shoved the ziplock bag of berries back into her pocket and stood up, brushing off her damp bottom from the rotten log she was sitting on. “I’ve been preparing my whole life for my first solo hunt. There is not much else I can do but wait.” 

Tonight was the night she would become a full member of the hunting party. At 21, those with the talent would be given a test. They were to track down and successfully eliminate a single werewolf on their own. Up until now, she had been hunting with a group. She participated in helping kill a total of five wolves so far. Now it was time to prove that she could be of use on her own. It was the highest honor a young person could receive in the guild. 

Sergei ran a hand through his long, scraggly beard. His dark hair reached to his shoulders and hung in wild waves framing his square face. The black pelt of a werewolf hung like a shawl around his shoulders. As leader of the Silver Colt Guild, he held the respect of everyone under him. The Silver Colt’s history dated as far back as the first known existence of a werewolf. They’d been around for centuries, culling the werewolf problem the best they could before it ever reached the public eye. Sergei, known by his enemies as his alias Kraven the Hunter, inherited the guild from his father. He ran with an iron fist to keep his people safe. They were the outcasts of modern society, taking on the burden of protecting those they would never meet from the horrors of evil that walked among them. 

“Being prepared does not mean you are ready to complete the actual task,” he chastised her. “Going one to one with a wolf is harder than you could ever imagine. In their wolf form, they are ten times stronger than you could ever be. In their human form, they are the master of manipulation. They would say or do anything to keep you from slaughtering them. The second you let your guard down, they will strike. There will be no help to back you up. Failing means death. A beast won’t hesitate to rip you limb from limb. Mindless, heartless killers. They are not guided by morals. They will not hesitate. I don’t want to lose you tonight.”

Aylin held her tongue for fear of talking back. Sergei always got under her skin. Still, she believed he deserved the title of their leader and, therefore, was worthy of her respect. He was easily the best hunter of them all. He could take out a wolf with nothing but his bare hands. No one else was able to compete with his sheer strength. At times, he seemed almost like an enhanced human himself. She often wondered where he pulled his abilities from, though she would never dare question him. He was a good leader but a boastful one. His hubris clashed with her humbled outlook. Aylin had no need for cockiness. She believed one’s skills should silently speak for themselves. There was no need to talk herself up. She knew what she could do and that should be enough. 

“If you are successful tonight then I could see you entering as the frontrunner to become my protégé,” he raised his thick brows at her, as if that was supposed to be the most enticing offer of her lifetime. “Don’t let me down.”

The leader of the guild would always choose the strongest new hunter to personally train. She would be forced to move into Sergei and his wife’s home to study his every move. Whoever was chosen as the leader’s protégé would one day take over as leader themselves. Some of her peers would slaughter each other for the chance to claim that title. Aylin saw it as a chore. Calypso, Sergei’s wife, was someone she’d rather avoid. The woman could easily stand on her own with her husband but didn’t possess an ounce of empathy. She was cruel, boarding on psychopathic, and the thought of having to live under the same roof as her sent a bolt of dread through Aylin’s nerves. She had no desire to lead anyone, either. All she wanted was to sit in her quiet woods, undisturbed, but there was no point in arguing over a centuries old tradition. If Sergei chose her then that’s what she would have to do. 

“I think I’ll be alright. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ve been tracking this wolf for some time. She works as a night security guard up at the old Eagle Peak Camp. I’m not entirely sure what she’s guarding there but, whatever is, I’ll be sure to report back to you with what I find. I think it’s where a pack has been meeting. If I can get information on them, our guild could potentially eliminate an entire group in one go. She’ll be an easy enough target for my first solo hunt. There shouldn’t be any civilians around and there's a lot of places to take cover. All my weapons are prepped and ready. I’ve been training for months. I will come back with her silver pierced heart in my hand. I’m confident in this.” She straightened her spine as she spoke to appear taller than she was in an attempt to see eye to eye with Sergei. He towered over anyone he stood in front of and she didn’t like feeling small.  

He gave a light hearted chuckle and slung his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side, and dwarfing her against his large body, “I believe you. I’m the one who trained you, remember? I know you have the skill. Doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you anyway.” The coarse fur of the wolf pelt tumbling down his shoulders tickled her cheek as he held her close. “Your mother is looking for you. She made you breakfast. Let me walk you back to town and we can discuss your strategies for tonight once more.” 

Even as she stood crouched under the shadows of a large pine tree, Aylin silently trailed her fingers over each of her weapons. She’d taken count of each one about fifty times in the last hour but it still helped quell her nerves. The tree she took shelter under protected her from the downpour of rain as she raised her binoculars to observe her surroundings. Eagle Peak was once a bustling summer destination for hundreds of children, aged 6 to 16, to attend a four week camp program in the mountains. Their days were filled with non stop fun canoeing on the lake, hiking through the forests, singing around a campfire, and making a lifetime of memories. That was until the wolf incident of ‘74. Three campers were found torn apart, their cabin broken into, and their bloodied bodies dragged out into the forest. Their deaths were chalked up to a pack of rabid wolves which had wandered into camp. While the pack was never actually found, the camp still closed down. Children being mutilated while they slept didn’t send out a great impression to other potential camp goers. The Silver Colt’s knew the truth. It wasn’t rabid wolves. At least, not how the public perceived it to be. One of the counselors was a beast in disguise. He was slain by Sergei’s father in the summer of ‘75. Sergei still wears the necklace of claws his father made after tearing them from the counselor's paws before he drove a silver dagger into the beast’s blackened heart. 

The camp had sat abandoned for years, left for nature to reclaim, until a private owner bought out the land. That was when the suspicion began. Hikers were going missing more often than usual. Strange howls could be heard at night. A heavy sense of foreboding hovered in the night air. The werewolves were making a return and it was up to Aylin’s people to stop them. Tonight, she would start their quest by taking out the guard and retrieving as much information as she could. 

From the outskirts she couldn’t see much. She’d been staking out this location for weeks. Besides the patrolling woman, she never saw anyone else move around the camp while she was there, but it was clear that there was something worth guarding. She would need to infiltrate closer to get a better look. While the night rain ruined her views, the sound would help mask her footsteps. Werewolves had particularly precise hearing. Sergei purposely chose a rainy night for her first hunt and she would take any advantage she could get.

Aylin mentally planned out her route. The main lodge sat in a large clearing overlooking the lake. A crack of lightning pierced through the clouds and reflected off the darkened waters. It was the only source of light she would have tonight as the moon was blanketed behind the storm. Surrounding the lodge on either side was a small office building and a nurse’s station. The lavatories were a little ways behind the main lodge and, down a wooded dirt path, held the bulk of the camper’s cabins. According to her old map, they used to refer to the cabin’s sleeping area as the Whispering Pines. A boathouse sat on the lake, still fully stocked with rotting canoes. That was thirteen buildings in total. She would have to search each one before she returned home. Once her target was removed, it would allow her the time she needed to properly investigate for any details on the pack that roamed these areas.

Sierra Molina was who Aylin was currently searching for. A 28 year old, gorgeous woman with thick, long black hair who moved to upper New York three years ago. She started out as a model in the city, gaining a good amount of success, when she suddenly switched career paths. A successful model in the big city to a solitary, private security guard for an abandoned summer camp in the Adirondack Mountains could only mean one thing. She was a wolf. She wasn’t born one, she was bitten. That was Aylin’s theory, at least. It would have been hard for a wolf to have a career in the limelight. Wolves and cities don’t usually mix unless they’re using them as a hunting ground. That would mean, at some point three years ago, a wolf managed to find its way into the city. It was growing its pack and Sierra was merely a victim of the beast. Victim or not, she had to die. 

There was not much luck for Aylin tonight. She had yet to catch sight of the woman. The heavy storm was probably compelling her to keep shelter in one of the buildings. A light was on in the back of the main lodge so she placed her bets on that. She wouldn’t be able to take her out with an easy scope shot. She’d need to get in closer. 

Aylin took a deep inhale, preparing herself, and stepped out from the protective shadows of her pine tree. Her old leather boots lost traction as she descended down a slippery slope towards the main lodge. The grass turned to slick mud under her and she silently cursed as she felt the cold, wet dirt coat down her side as she skidded to a halt at the bottom. If anything, the mud might help hide her scent too, though it made it harder to grip her weapons. She did her best to wipe her hands off on her black combat pants before continuing. 

She kept her body ducked low while she gave a light jog towards the lodge. There wasn’t much she could do about the squelching mud under her feet. All she could hope for was that the rain hammering on the roof was loud enough to cover whatever sounds she couldn’t hide. The second she reached the lodge, she pressed her back against the dark wooden panels. Her hand grabbed behind her to pull the crossbow from her back. She carefully loaded it with a silver tipped arrow, letting the rumbling thunder overhead mask the sounds. The crossbow was her weapon of choice. It was fast, powerful, and quieter than a gun. Unlike the colt revolver strapped to her thigh, she had more stealth advantages with this. The gun was for the final blow if she needed the added weight and her dagger was her very last chance of survival should things come down to hand to hand combat. She was no Sergei. Her strengths lay in long range and stealth. 

Aylin moved along the length of the outer wall until she was perched under a cracked open window. From inside, she could hear someone moving around. The smell of cooking chicken hit her nose. This must be the kitchen of the lodge and where her target was taking shelter. 

Sierra spoke to someone inside as she banged around the room, slamming cabinets in her wake, “I think he needs more food. The man is wasting away. Kateri hardly ever feeds him. I don’t know how she expects him to keep on giving her what she wants if he’s nothing but skin and bone.” 

She waited, listening for a secondary person to reply. When she heard none, it gave her the confidence to know that Sierra was still the only here. She was on the phone. 

“Yeah, I know it keeps him weak, but it’s also killing him. Call me crazy but I actually feel sorry for the bastard. I’m the one who ends up having to take care of him. He’s not my pet! If she’s so obsessed with him, you’d think she would actually take better care of him. It wouldn’t hurt to bathe him either. He’s starting to really stink. I wish Kateri would actually do something about that. The whole cabin is disgusting. I hate having to go in there.” The name Kateri was new to her but, the way Sierra talked about her, made it seem like she was the one who called the shots. The name of the pack's potential alpha. “Maybe I’ll let him run around in the rain for a bit. Let the storm hose him down.” Sierra laughed, “I’m joking! Calm down. I’m not going to let him out. He wouldn’t know what to do out of chains anyway. Kat’s got him fully conditioned to be her omega bitch.”

Aylin silently shifted her crossbow to get a better feel for it in her hands. Her curiosity peaked at the thought of who they were speaking about. It sounded as if they currently had someone hostage. She didn't dare peak through the open window for fear of being seen. 

“I cooked him some chicken. Kat can scream about it all she wants. He needs the protein. I didn’t even season it or anything. Just straight up dry chicken. What’s sad is that it’ll probably be the best damn meal he’s had in a year. Better than the dog food she’s been forcing him to eat.” The sound of her zipping up a bag reached Aylin’s ears. She was getting ready to move. “I’m going to even brave the rain for this loser. See? I’m not a heartless bitch after all. Who would have guessed? I’ll talk to you later, babes, once I’m back inside. See ya.” 

The sound of Sierra's footsteps disappearing followed the end of the phone call. This was her chance to move. Aylin crept around the side of the building, crossbow held up at the ready in front of her. She watched from the shadows as Sierra popped out the door and into the rain. Her peripheral vision was covered by the large, dark green hood of her rain jacket pulled loosely  over her head. She wore a black bag over her shoulder as she jogged towards the Whispering Pines. She had no idea that she was now actively being hunted.

Aylin’s  heart began to race as she trailed after her prey. When she joined the hunting party on their excursion to take out other wolves, they had already been in wolf form by the time she caught sight of them. Large, raggedy, snarling beasts. Blood had dripped from their jowls and matted into their wild, unkempt fur. They had been untamed, savage, violent creatures. It was easy to see them as a predator in need of putting down. They weren’t human. 

Sierra Molina was human. At least, how she looked now. A beautiful woman trying to make it big as a model. Her dreams of the future were snatched from her at the hands of true evil. She was dragged up to the mountains and forced into a new life. She ran through the rain, her shoulders hunched up in her oversized coat, her body shivering from the cold, to bring food to whatever neglected hostage her alpha had locked up. She was going against her orders to feed the poor soul. An act of kindness. A very human act. 

Her stomach ached at the thought of having to look this woman in the eyes as she killed her. She’d rather her be a wolf. It would be more dangerous but slaughtering an animal was better than murdering a human. The reality of what she was about to do came crashing down around her. The fear set in. 

Aylin slowed her pace, ducking behind a tree. Sergei was right, the rain would help easily conceal her from all sounds and smells. Sierra had no idea she was being followed. It felt almost unfair. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to do this anymore. She was born into this life. Raised to be a killer. It should be easy. She shouldn’t be this sacred. Fear and doubt were weaknesses. Those weaknesses should have been beaten out of her as a child yet they somehow still prevailed, stronger than ever. 

As her prey approached the last cabin along the path, the one tucked further back into the forest than the rest, Aylin raised her crossbow and took aim. There was no time for over thinking or panic. She had to act on instinct. This was her moment. It was now or never. She couldn’t return home without a wolf’s heart in her hand. She couldn’t fail her people. 

This was it. 

The familiar, loud thwip of the bolt leaving its home echoed off the trees. Before Sierra even had time to react to the sound, the silver tip buried itself straight into her lower spine with a sickly, crunching thud of bones being ripped apart. She dropped hard and fast. Crumbled to the ground in a heap, her bag slipping from her shoulders to fall beside her broken body. Her piercing howl of pain filled the air. Aylin made quick work to start loading up the next bolt while she still had the element of surprise on her side. 

“My legs,” Sierra cried out. “I can’t feel my legs! I can’t move them. Please. Help! Someone help!”  Her pleas for rescue were useless. There was nobody around to listen but Aylin. Her body flopped onto her side, teary, terrified eyes desperately searching for her assailant. “Who are you? What do you want?! What have you done? You-” 

Aylin approached, a black cowl mask hiding her lower face, and the end of the crossbow pointed at the other woman. Her target was in sight but she wasn’t ready to pull the final trigger just yet. She wanted her to turn. She needed to see the beast before she took her life. It was the only way she'd be able to follow through. 

Sierra caught sight of the golden, rising sun emblem carefully stitched into Aylin’s dark jacket. Realization flashed across her spasming face, contorting between pain and fury, “You.” Her voice lowered into a dangerous rumble. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” Her words spit like fire out of her mouth. “That sun. You’re one of Kraven’s hunters! Kateri said you would come eventually. You have no idea how this will end for you. You have no idea what you’re walking into!” 

A low, threatening growl thundered in the back of her throat. It was followed by a quieter whimper like she knew how this was going to end for her. She was scared. A cornered animal ready to go down fighting. Death was the only future she held. Her pupils began to stretch, causing her tawny colored eyes to fill with a voidless obsidian until there were no remnants of her human soul. The growl grew deeper, more animalistic, as she started to shift. 

“That’s it,” Aylin whispered to herself. “Turn for me. Show me who you really are.” 

Like a firework bursting in the night sky, Sierra’s body exploded into a massive wolf with an angry howl, sending shreds of her green rain jacket and a spray of water droplets flying into the air. She nearly tripled in size. Silky, jet black fur, as beautiful as her own head of hair, settled down into place as her transformation completed. Saliva clung to her thick, pointed ivory teeth, black lips pulled back into a snarl, and her ears pressed flat against her skull. Steam puffed from her panting jaws, highlighting the chill in the air. She was savage. Desperate. Ready to kill. Her blackened sights set directly onto Aylin. 

This was the beast she was ready to hunt. This was exactly what she had trained for. Sierra Molina no longer existed. In her place was a raging, furious wolf ready to be slain. There was no more need for humanity for she was not human. A hunter and her prey. A tale as old as time. 

Sierra’s hind quarters remained crumbled under the weight of her body like a stray dog who had been hit by a car. They were as useless to her in wolf form as they were to her as a human. Aylin had managed to sever her spine with her first hit, rendering her weaker and taking away some of her power. It didn’t make her any less dangerous, though. She lunged at the younger girl, thrusting her massive body down the muddy path towards her as claps of loud thunder cheered on the upcoming fight. The muscular power of her front legs dragged her forward in jerky, pained movements, back legs dangling helplessly behind her. The coarse fur of her hackles stood on end. Teeth bared. She was ready to die fighting. 

Aylin released the trigger. The bolt shot out like a bullet and lodged itself deep into her foe's shoulder. The silver tip sizzled in her thick skin, the metal burning into her flesh. She doubled over with a howled cry, whipping her enlarged head back and forth in an attempt to reach the burning arrow piercing her skin with her long snout. While she fought with the pain, Aylin quickly tried to reload her bow. She had the arrow half way in, foot holding down the stirrup, and desperately trying to force the strong string back into position when Sierra noticed she was distracted. Ignoring the searing pain in her shoulder and crippled back legs, she lunged herself at Aylin. 

The force knocked her to the ground, tossing her bow off to the side, and pushing the air out of her lungs. The heavy weight of the wolf pressed down on her chest. The smell of wet dog filled her nostrils as Sierra leered down over her. Steamy, hot breath blew in her face. Black, leathery lips pulled back to reveal snarling teeth. For a breathless moment, Sierra thought she had the upper hand. 

And then a loud, cracking pop rang out, breaking the wooded silence, sending a flurry of terrified birds out of the trees and straight to the stormy sky.

In Aylin’s hand was the colt revolver, slipped out from her thigh harness, already prepped and loaded with silver bullets, now pointed directly under the wolf’s jaw. 

The bullet shot straight through Sierra’s thick skull, ripping through her brain, and forcing a bloody exit out the other end. A cloud of misty, hot crimson rained down onto Aylin’s face. Bits of fleshy brain matter scattered to the ground around her. A sharp fragment of Sierra’s rose tinted skull bounced off her forehead, slicing her skin, and tumbled into the mud. The wolf went completely still, the life snuffed straight out of her, as her heavy body slumped on top of Aylin, pinning her in place. 

The silence that followed was deafening. Not even the rumbling thunder or shower of rain seemed to dare make noise. All she could hear was the ringing in her ears. The echo of the gunshot reverberating inside her skull. 

Her heart was racing. Her lungs struggled to breath under the weight on top of her. Her mind desperately tried to catch up with the events that just unfolded. 

Her first solo hunt. Her first kill. 

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, protected from the shower of blood thanks to her mask. The rain slowly washed the rest of the red from her vision. 

She had done it. 

She had killed a werewolf. 

She was alive. She was the victor. 

Aylin let out a grunt, grasping a fistful of Sierra’s fur in her shaky hands, as she wiggled her body out from under the enormous carcass. The slippery mud helped assist her as she slid her legs out of the furry prison. Her clothes were soaked through. Mud, rain, and blood all mixed together to seep into her frozen skin. She forced herself onto her feet and took a stumbled step backwards to examine her work. 

Sierra remained in wolf form after her death. They rarely ever changed back once their life was gone. Despite her blown open skull, she looked rather peaceful. Cute, even, if you looked from the right angles. Like a giant, sleeping puppy. They were beautiful creatures, werewolves. It was hard not to respect their strength and power. Sierra still nearly got the upper hand even with her paralyzed hind legs and silver burning her flesh. If it hadn’t been for the colt, she probably would have won. 

Death suited her, Aylin concluded. 

She turned from the corpse to pick up her crossbow off the ground and slung it back over her shoulder. She took a moment to gather herself, both her racing thoughts and her scattered belonging, before she attempted to continue. The adrenaline coursing through her veins made it difficult to think straight. The wolf was dead, the major threat eliminated, but there was still work that needed to be done. Cabins needed to be searched. Clues needed to be found. And a heart needed to be cut out as proof of her win. 

Aylin shuffled over to the bag Sierra had dropped. It lay at the bottom steps of the smallest cabin. A simple, faded, forest green wooden shack. While the other sleeping quarters looked like they could hold at least ten people total, this one could probably only handle four. She bent down to unzip the bag. A clear tupperware of cooked chicken, a bottle of water, and a ring full of keys were all that remained inside. Aylin glanced up to the cabin. That was where Sierra was headed to deliver the dinner. That was where they were keeping their pet. 

She snatched up the ring of keys and made her accent up the rotting wooden stairs. A screen door filled with holes stood in front of her. Behind it was another, solid metal door. It looked out of place, newer than everything else, as if someone had specifically installed it within the past year. A heavy padded lock bolted it shut. The kind of lock meant to keep something in. She tested out each key until she found the perfect fit. The lock popped open and she slid over the dead bolt, allowing the door to slowly creak open, unsure of what she would find on the other side.

The thick stench of musty sweat hit her nose as her eyes adjusted to the dark. It was pitch black inside. The windows had been boarded up and covered with heavy, old blankets. They would keep out the light and help dampen any noise. A set of two wooden bunk beds stood on opposite sides of the walls, built straight into the floor, but Aylin’s attention sought to what was chained between them. 

A man was naked, crouched on his knees, back curved forward, and head hung low. He was facing the blank wall across from her. His arms hung up above his head and stretched out to the side, forced into place by the bulky chains around each wrist. The sickly pale skin under the wide cuffs was rubbed raw. A trickle of dried blood caked down his forearm. His back was covered in a myriad of scars. Welts from a whip. Some new. Some old. All painful. She could see the perfect ridge of his spine protruding from under the scarred skin, each vertebrae clearly on display. The marks of a starving, tortured man. 

He head jerked to the side when he heard the creak of the floorboard as she took another step inside. His hair was down to his shoulders and hung in wild, greasy, matted stands. His skin was speckled with dirt and old, dried blood. Wheezing breaths struggled out his lungs. 

Aylin breathed through her mouth, trying to keep her nose blocked from the horrible smell wafting off of him. The closer she got, the worse it became. Not even her mask could help block the smell. He had been locked in this room for a long time, rotting away with no flow of air, no sunlight, nothing.  

“What have they done to you?” She whispered, horrified by what she was seeing. “Who are you?” 

The sounds of shifting chains filled the quiet shack as he came more alert. She stayed in the shadows behind him, just out of his eye sight while he tried to crane his head around to see who was speaking. This was a new voice, one unfamiliar to him. 

“Who are you?” He croaked. His voice was deep and scratchy like a rusty tool he no longer had any use for. 

“I asked you first.” She listened to the sound of the rain hammering against the wooden roof. It helped soothe the quickened pace of her heart. “Are you one of them? Do you…belong to them?” A pet. That’s what Sierra had called him. 

She had only been taught how to kill wolves, not what to do when she encountered a hostage they were keeping. This was new, uncharted territory. Sergei would probably want her to kill him and move on with her task, get home safe without any added baggage. Her mother would tell her to free the starving man and find him help, her humanity being more important than a flawless hunt. She chewed on her lip, silently weighing her options. 

The man gave a breathy, weak laugh. It sounded dark and ominous. 

“I…belong to them…yes.” He hesitated, defeat dripping in his tone. “Are you here to kill me? Please say yes.” 

Aylin swallowed, unsure. Was she? Her hand was clutched to the hilt of her knife. He could be dangerous. Or useful. There had to be a reason why a pack of wolves had him locked up. He belonged to them but was he one of them? It didn’t sound like he was part of the pack. A rival, maybe? Whoever he was, he wanted to die. He wanted her to kill him. Her heart sank in her chest. He looked so weak. His head had fallen back against his slumped over chest, his neck unable to support it upright for long. They had tortured him, starved him, until he was a broken shell. 

She took a deep breath and pulled her knife from the holster. He shuddered at the sound. She held it at the ready as she crept closer, ducking under one of his chains, to stand directly in front of him. He lifted his tired head to look at her. Her eyes widened at the horrors. Gaunt, pale cheeks caked in dirt. Untamed, wild hair like a mane framing his skeletal face. Dark, sagging circles embedded around hollow, red tinted eyes. His scraggly chestnut beard stuck out in all directions to hide his dry, chapped, pale lips. Every rib stood out against his grimy chest. She forced her eyes from traveling down any further, wanting to allow the naked man whatever shred of dignity he had left. 

“Well?” He asked again, watery eyes boring into her. “Are you going to kill me or not?” 

Aylin locked her gaze with his. It was the look of hope that softened his sharp features that simultaneously broke her heart and made up her mind. 

“No,” she declared. 

She couldn’t kill him. She didn’t care who he was or what he had done. Anyone chained up and begging for death deserved a second chance. 

A frown darkened his sweat dripped brow, “You're a hunter, aren’t you? I know that symbol on your coat. I heard you outside. You killed Sierra. That’s what you do. You kill werewolves.” 

Aylin nodded, “Yes.” 

“Then kill me,” he stated. The finality of his statement settled in the stale air around them. 

He was a werewolf. 

She should kill him. She should hate him. She should claim his life as a second victory. Two for one. It would secure her spot as Sergei’s protégé. She would be revered as a hero. A future candidate to lead the Silver Colts. Her destiny would be written in stone. 

Which was exactly why she wouldn’t. 

When she didn’t respond, he clenched his jaw, anger flashing across his broken eyes, “Kill me! I’m one of them! Do what you’re supposed to do and kill me!” He threw himself at where she stood, unflinching. The chains caught him before he could reach her and yanked him back into place as a sob escaped him. The fight immediately left his body. He was too weak. He curled up as best as he could with his arms hung weakly above his head. He let out a pathetic whimper. “Please…do it…please…” He whined. “Please. Help me. Make it end. Let it be over.”

He was a werewolf. A predator. A freak of nature. The one thing she was supposed to despise most in this world. Her enemy. The one she vowed to eliminate even if it cost her own life. She was raised to do this. Raised to be a killer. 

“No,” she whispered. 

It’s not a fair fight. He was too weak. Bound to chains. Already beaten into submission. She’d have to be a monster to pierce his heart now. He was supposed to be the monster. Not her. The plans of what to do next began swirling around in her mind. Crazy, ridiculous, unheard of plans. 

Aylin slipped her knife back into its holster. She had made up her mind. She was going to take him. Steal him from the pack. Bring him back with her. Hide him away from her people. Use him to get information. He was weak enough that she could control him. In the state he was in, his fragile mind could be easily manipulated. It was insane, yes, but it was her plan and her mind was set on it. 

The ring of keys were still stuck inside the lock of the door. She ducked back under his arm chain and retrieved them, starting to test each key until she found the right one, while he studied her with a quiet, sleepy, curiosity. She carefully unlocked each cuff, setting him loose. 

The wolf man fell to the ground the second his arms were free. He crumpled into the fetal position, chest heaving, unable to do much more in his feeble state. Aylin squatted down in front him. His knees were more raw than his wrists, almost worn down to the bone, as if he had to spend most of his time on them. It was then that she noticed his pelvic region. She only took notice because it stood out. While the rest of him was covered in grime, his pelvis was meticulously clean. Spotless. Perfectly cleared of any dirt, sweat, or blood. She couldn’t see anything more revealing as he tucked into himself but it was an odd observation, the kind that made her stomach lurch. Whoever Kateri was, she only seemed to care about one specific part of him. This hostage had a purpose. One she was going to take away from them. Cut off their supply and use him to lure them out into the open. 

He was the key to eliminating the entire pack. 

“What’s your name?” She asked softly. She could pretend to be nice, gain his trust, have him work for her. She could use him to bend her guild in the right direction. Think of all the information that could be learned by having an actual werewolf on their side. 

He peaked his eyes out at her, his lids hanging heavy like he hadn’t slept in days, “It’s-” He hesitated, having to think, to try and remember that part of himself. A part he lost long ago. “Uh, it's…Peter….yeah, that’s it. Peter.” Even though he was free, he made no attempts to move. Completely broken like an abused, unleashed dog sticking close to his master because he knew of nothing else. Kindness didn’t exist in his world. All he knew was pain and suffering. 

She reached out her hand, gently placing it against his cheek, even as he flinched and cowered away, she held steady, “I’m not going to hurt you, Peter.” She removed her hand from his scraggly beard and tugged down the dark cowl and mask to reveal the rest of her face for him to see, “My name is Aylin. I am a hunter but not to you. You no longer belong to these sadistic people. Now, you belong to me.” 

[Chapter Two]

A/N: A reblog will automatically put you onto the chapter two tag list. If you enjoyed what you read, please leave a comment! It would make this writer very happy and more likely to continue writing. I hope you have a lovely night/evening/morning/afternoon/day. 

Tag List: @liz-allyn @mrshipsmcgee @sincericida @moonyslove78​

[deadlyanthem]

what's good gang! ares here with canon kd1 (the king 2016), han wonbin. super excited to be here! without further adieu, below the cut you will find info on my kennedy wannabe. hit this post with a like and i'll swing into your dms to plot 📩

look, you should know...

the han's come from a line of noblemen, old money, people with positions of power

his father, for a long as wonbin can remember, has always been for and in the conservative political party. a real stickler for traditional ways, keeping the rich rich and the poor, well, working.

ruled his house in a very cutthroat way; you either wise up or shut the fuck up.

but that was exactly wonbin's problem. the black sheep, the sore thumb, he did everything different. he's a lover, not a fighter. too smart for his own good. listens too keenly. wears two faces. gets under your skin. gets you right where he wants you. his father doesn't trust a man who smiles a lot. wonbin gleams.

this divide between the han patriarch and the youngest son fostered a mean spirit inside wonbin, but don't worry, he keeps it under wraps. no one ever knows what he's truly thinking. he's charismatic, a friend to everyone and enemy to none. your mother would love him.

but only because she doesn't know him. really, he's an entitled, spoilt philanderer with a skewed view of how the world works and how it should work for him. maybe he's not so different from his father after all? but yeah he's known as the peasant king, and yeah, despite being in a right wing political party he feigns interest in the layman's life. but only because he wants to keep them there, where he thinks they belong.

long may you rule when you no one knows your true intentions and at the end of the day, you think they're all beneath you.

the king and all of his...

it's not totally strange for him to get into the king's club. his father and his brothers had been through the same process although it was unbeknownst to him at the time. see, he thought he had something over them, thought that he might have been the better han. he doesn't know yet that he is all of the things his father simultaenously hates about himself and wishes he could be.

he's approached by the queen in 2013, son of a prolific politician and debate team hopeful, he's so full of promise. wonbin quickly manipulates her into vouching for him and helping him in getting the leg up on all of the rituals.

the kid is smart, he's got brains but they're not doing him any good. his weakness was women. his daddy issues meant that he sought validation in the eager eyes and the plush lips of a lover. it's almost like a drug, the way he craves someone to look at him and only him as if he put the stars in the sky. and when he's a chessmaster, he learns the perils of such hunger.

he cheats on his fiance. it's a paltry offence in his grand scheme of things but the fallout is divisive. he'll blame their differences, they were on the out for a long time, it was hardly love

but this is where he differs from his father. ever the lover, never the fighter he takes this set back like a punch to the chin. he tries on humility for size. dare he turn the other cheek.

he champions the underdog, he places them strategically on his chessboard. he coaches them to victory. he makes diamonds out of coal and maybe he loses himself in the process. his father stares at him every time he looks in the mirror and there's something so violent about his smile now.

2024, the ghosts are knocking at your door...

he follows his father's path, hot on his heels. he scrutinises him and all his shortcomings as he builds his own case. president han is a steadfast and vicious leader, his cabinet knows this well. but he is as only smart as tradition limits him and this is where he'll fail, wonbin thinks.

wonbin swears he's going to best him, don't you worry. for now he bides his time, and solidifies his seat at the table. he climbs his way up to deputy minister of health and welfare and soon the policies and laws that he takes part in implementing thrusts him into the public spotlight. with all these eyes on him, he stresses the need to be a man of the people, unlike his dear father. they all trust him, for now. but they do not know of the man behind the mask, they do not know of his greed.

[decimal86]

Ranking The Incident's members from "normal-ish straightman" to "interesting weirdo (affectionate)" based on their personalities. I am sorry if you disagree, but I respect your opinions on this matter.

1. Shrimp. Despite her admittedly off-putting smile, she's also just a very kindhearted young girl with a love for music. Consistently seems to fill the role as a younger sibling for other members to defend. Shrimp just wants to make others happy and seems like a relatively normal shark girl idol.

2. Big Bill. Surprisingly, for a buff, humanoid duck, he actually seems pretty chill. Don't have much to say about him, so he gets this by default.

3. Orion. Probably the closest to the "traditional" heroic archetype, being a strong and devoted family man with plenty of skill as a swordsman. He loves his daughter, plays both classes to the best of his ability, and is probably the voice of reason a lot of the time. The only thing keeping him down a bit is his odd attempts at giving presents and seeing an immortal chef with a thousand-yard stare and massive eyebrows as the best pick for a partner.

4. Erica. In a way, I see her and Orion as two sides of the same coin, being dedicated warriors who changed classes with a strong urge to keep their team safe. However, her Season 2 development led to her throwing much of her caution to the wind, so her temper and violent streak knock her placement down a bit. Still, I definitely could see her being the type to call others on their crap and forcing herself back into the straightwoman role if really needed. Very much a case of "only functional by comparison."

5. Failboat. The man, the myth, the definitely (maybe) not a furry, he's... gone through a lot since the first season. While it's difficult to say where the creator ends and the character's personality begins, I personally see C!Fail as a pretty nice guy, just world-weary and desperate for a break after his experience of the world. (TBF, makes sense given his relationship with Chat). Also, any man who eats spaghetti with cat paws on cannot be labeled as normal.

6. Bo. Certainly not the most unhinged even after her vampire transformation, but her generally seeming on edge a lot of the time makes me feel she deserves this position. Honestly, I'd just say her position fluctuates as much as Failboat's and Erica's.

7. Friend. While we likely can't truly judge a maybe-divine entity with human norms, I do think them being fairly serene and forgiving, yet also casting Righteous Anger with zero hesitancy and a stone cold smile, can speak for itself.

8. Mar. While his stoicism and apathy towards the zany nature of his party do make him appear normal at first, I'd argue it also makes him nearly as unhinged as the two members below him. Except, instead of being the "blast the door off the hinges" unhinged, he's the "saw it down and let it fall over" kind of unhinged. An odd mix of blank mindedness, Italian plumber cosplay, and top-notch leadership. To quote one of the memes @gnomey22 posted, Mar is "queer as in gay, yes, but also queer as in really very peculiar." He sees recklessness but willingly chooses to just watch it happen.

9. Chi. This, THIS is a character that I feel like could actually break everything in her body, survive and get healed, and immediately repeat whatever it is she just did—either for science, her love of fire, or just because it's fun. Sometimes for her friends, yeah, but mostly one of the above things. She sees everything from gender norms and to the laws of chemistry and just goes, "Hmm... nah, not really up for that," and defies them openly and instantaneously. Honestly, though, I vibe with it. Can definitely see why a lot of people like her!

10. Chat. I mean, what did you expect? They're a loose cannon both literally and figuratively. They spread mayonnaise on Failboat's head when he was ill. Proclaimed their friendship with their team before firing them at the enemy. They're a bundle of untamed voices, like a nest of fire ants who lost a pheromone trail.

...Well, that took longer than I thought. Hope anyone who sees this enjoyed it, though!

[jittyjames]

I promise I’m not asking you to commit to writing any of these for whumptober but do you have any instinctive ideas or pairings for any of the prompts? 😁 any that you’ve read and your immediate reaction is it should be this pair, or this fandom?

sure thing! i have a list of my first instincts and ideas for most of the prompts, so here's the first rough draft of my masterpost! (subject to change, of course!) if anyone has any specific ideas, tho, or things they want to see, feel free to let me know!

Day 1: Search Party + Panic Attack — Jesus Christ Superstar — When Jesus disappears without a word to the disciples, Judas and Mary take it upon themselves to go looking for him as days turn to weeks. 

Day 2: Role Reversal — Twenty One Pilots · Trenchler — The Torchbearer is taken by DEMA as a way to lure Clancy back to them.

Day 3: Wrongfully Arrested — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus rushes to save Judas from being punished in a way he doesn't deserve.

Day 4: Hallucinations — Hamilton — Alexander and Washington find themselves in the clutches of a cruel soldier. His experiments leave the two in quite a predicament.

Day 5: Heatstroke — Hamilton — The heat of battle is only made worse by the oppressive summer sun. Aaron Burr finds himself faltering. 

Day 6: Not Realizing They're Injured — Jesus Christ Superstar— After a horrible riot breaks out, not everyone is as unscathed as it seems.

Day 7: "It's Us Or Them." — 9-1-1 — Buck ends up in the hospital after making a choice.

Day 8: Sleep Deprivation — Hamilton · Hamburr — As Alexander and Aaron push through a high-stakes murder case that bring up bad memories for the both of them, the lack of sleep causes something else to brew between them.

Day 9: Obsession — Hamilton · Hamburr · Modern — Aaron runs into trouble when a mysterious man takes an interest in him. 

Day 10: Blow To The Head + Slurred Words + “I Can’t Think Straight.” — Mindhunter — In a questioning gone wrong, Holden is left reeling. Quite literally.

Day 11: Seeing Double + Loneliness — Hamilton — For just a moment, Alexander thinks he's looking at someone who can't possibly be there.

Day 12: Starvation + “Just A Little More.” — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas takes issue with having when others have not.

Day 14: Blackmail— Hamilton — When Alexander's secrets are being held by his political enemies, he will do everything he can to ensure they never get out. [Continuation of Keep Me (And My Secrets)]

Day 15: Childhood Trauma — Jesus Christ Superstar (Arena) · Jesus/Judas — Mary reflects on her life as she watches Judas’ fall apart. 

Day 17: Nowhere Else To Go — Hamilton — Thomas Jefferson finds a bleeding Hamilton on his doorstep.

Day 18: Revenge + Loss Of Identity + Unreliable Narrator — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas — Judas finds Jesus with blood on his hands.

Day 19: Abandoned Cabin + Blood Trail — Mindhunter — Holden is taken by an unsub.

Day 20: Giving Permission To Die — Hamilton · Hamliza — Eliza and Alex have one last conversation.

Day 21: Spirit Possession + Body Horror — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Mary/Judas — Jesus had cast out demons from many people over the course of his ministry. But it’s just different when it’s someone he loves. 

Day 22: Reopening Wounds — Mindhunter — The aftermath of all the events with that principal leave Holden burning with a need for justice, no matter how obsessive it seems.

Day 23: Forced Choice + Public Display — Jesus Christ Superstar · Jesus/Judas —  Amuse Me (Fuck or Die Fic)

Day 24: “I Never Knew Daylight Could Be So Violent.” — Hamilton — How can the sun still rise when so much horror has come to pass? How can the world still spin?

Day 26: Nightmares + Breakfast Table — Hamilton · Modern — Aaron's daughter is always hanging around that Hamilton kid. He doesn't mind it as much as he pretends to— Philip is a sweet boy, after all, and it gives Aaron the excuse he needs to see his former friend despite bridges being burned to a crisp. But when Aaron get's a phone call one stormy night, everything changes.

Day 30: Recovery + Hospital Bed + "What Have I Done?" — Hamilton · Jamilton—  After an attempt brought on by something Thomas said, he's left to pick up the pieces of a broken Hamilton.

[dysthanasia-series]

Thin Edge of a Wedge Pt. 1

Summary: Isaac approaches Renato with a surprising request. (Possible future scene taking place shortly after Phagophobia, based loosely on this prompt.)

Words: 2,075

Content Advisory: Sexual themes and situations, consensual vampire hypnosis, angry sexual tension, enemies-to-forced-allies-to-lovers, swearing, kissing, biting, consensual blood-drinking, violent vampire feeding thoughts, enthusiastic consent, fade-to-black ending

Renato turned his head and leaned in a fraction as if his hearing had failed him. “I’m sorry. I thought you said—”

“Hypnotize me. Dorian says it’s possible to learn how to break out of bloodborn trances with practice. So, help me train.” Despite the direct words and his matter-of-fact tone, Soto kept his gaze—usually so bold, so sharp—trained on a far corner of the motel room. An arm crossed over his middle, gripping the opposite as he sat on one of the two shabby beds.

While his body already knew which way to cast its vote, Renato’s finer faculties hesitated. “What prompted this?”

“Hm, gosh, let me think. Oh, right. We’re surrounded by Unseen Hand agents who’d love to stab us in the back.”

“Are you implying you could get lost in another bloodborn’s eyes? Agent Soto, you wound me.”

“Can you give being an asshole a rest for, like, half a second? I’m serious.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable request, truth be told. Quite pragmatic really. Possibly even laudable, given all Soto had recently suffered—no small amount of which sat at the top of Renato’s ever-growing list of mistakes.

That’s precisely what made it so suspicious.

Renato took a seat on the bed across from Soto’s, the rickety frame squeaking as he crossed his legs and leaned back on both hands. “You didn’t have a problem snapping out of my hypnosis the first time. And you seem to have at least some level of immunity to Kinslayer’s version now.”

“That’s not the same as being able to resist questioning in a casual situation I’m not expecting, or with weird soul magic involved. Like you keep pointing out, if Oleander or Motley or any of the Unseen Hand gets wind of what we’re actually up to we’re dead.”

Again, a bit of strategic paranoia worthy of an aquila. Something was definitely off.

“Fine, suppose I agree,” Renato said. “What, exactly, do you expect me to do?”

“I dunno. Ask me stuff I wouldn’t want to answer and I’ll try to resist.”

The sensible thing to do on his end was to walk away, of course. Ignore Soto and whatever strange impulse was driving him for the rest of the evening. Heaven knew there were a hundred and one tasks actually related to their survival that needed his attention.

Only none of those sent a thrill up his spine.

“Okay, let’s do it.” Renato leaned forward and put his hands on his thighs, smiling. He had enjoyed the odd sleepover party—sharing secrets, truth or dare, all that—as a child when they’d been possible. A shame Ollie wasn’t staying in the same motel. He wouldn’t have minded asking for a couple of her facial masks.

With just a trace of trepidation, Soto mirrored his posture. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. Released it. Met Renato’s amused gaze with grave determination. “Ready.”

“What’s your name?”

A divot of annoyance appeared on Soto’s brow. “You know it already.”

“Remind me.”

“Isaac Soto Marquez,” he huffed.

“Your birthday?”

“July seventeenth. Which you also know.”

Well, he’d glanced at it in the Coven’s personal file on Soto, although that had been weeks ago. Considering Renato didn’t remember the exact date of his own birth (which might have already passed since he did know it occurred during storm season), he’d have to make a note to write Soto’s down. Get his favorite grumpy researcher a little treat. Speaking of which…

“What sort of cake do you like?”

There. Surprise smoothed out Soto’s expression. Without disapproval or anxiety etched around his mouth or eyes, it was easy to remember he was barely coming up on age thirty. “Cake? Er, tres leches. With fruit on top, not cinnamon.”

“What kind of fruit is your favorite?”

Shoulders relaxed. Pupils dilated slightly. “Well, uh, I like summer ones the most. You know, mangoes, cherries, peaches.” A pause. “That last one’s my favorite, though. I love peaches. Even from a can.”

“Really? I used to love oranges, though of course I can only enjoy them for their smell now. Some of my best memories are of stopping at ports with orchards so I could pick some.” Renato smiled, earning a shy one in return. “Have you ever eaten fruit straight from the tree or vine, Agent Soto?”

“I…yeah. Yeah, a lot of the werecreature communities I’ve visited have gardens. And I did the whole picking strawberries thing during the spring once with Jeremy.” A soft, faraway sheen shone over dark brown eyes.

Renato ran his tongue along the back of one fang. He had Soto now. While their little game hadn’t been Renato’s idea initially, he wasn’t sorry he’d played, whatever the true stakes. “Who’s Jeremy?”

Creaking as weight shifted the other bed. “My ex.”

Careful. The trick was not to let the prey become too distressed. To give him a little guiding nudge here and there along the path, but to always keep him going with the flow of conversation, not against. Not until the trap had sprung and it was too late. “I see. How many relationships have you had, Agent Soto?”

“Just two. Long term ones.”

“Oh, that’s hardly anything to be embarrassed over.” He had one more than Renato under his belt, after all. And, well, he doubted Soto could have done any worse than Ollie and him had. “Even if you’d had hundreds that didn’t last past sunrise it still wouldn’t be.”

“I know. I guess…sometimes I wish I’d been more aggressive or outgoing or whatever. Elfy always gets pissed when we go out and I turn someone down.”

“Elfy? Your friend from the spirits department?”

“Yeah. She’s always telling me to loosen up and stop thinking with the head on my shoulders so much.” A hand flew up to cover a giggle.

As far as life’s little delights went, Renato ranked witnessing the angriest, most stubborn human he’d ever met giggle just below watching his aquarium. “But that’s not really your style?”

“Nope.” A twitch of the fingers, flicker in the eyes. “Well, okay, once in a while—when I’m really drunk—it is.”

This entire situation came into sudden, cold focus. Decades of training kept Renato’s expression, his mask, from slipping, though. “Would you say you’re bashful when it comes to flirting?” He had certainly read Soto that way during their fateful first meeting at that diner. Though he’d swiftly shed whatever reservations he’d had once they crawled into the backseat of the car.

“Mm. Not really. Not after I get what’s going on.”

“No? High standards maybe?”

“Don’t think so. I don’t have a…a type or whatever.”

“Perhaps you have a hard time surrendering control then?”

Another fidgeting ripple disturbed Soto’s reverie. “I…something like that.”

“Is that why you asked me to hypnotize you, Agent Soto? To surrender control?”

With a jerk, his flustered prey wrenched his gaze away, half-collapsing onto the mattress. Soto panted, his skin gleaming from a light coating of sweat, like he’d just finished running a lap. The tart, candy-apple scent of fear wafted over to Renato, prompting a flood of saliva. Swallowing, he let his lips twist into a smirk.

“That’s a failing grade, as far as I’m concerned.”

“What…?”

“Your tactics could use some work,” Renato continued, uncrossing his legs and rising in one smooth, dignified motion. “Also, I don’t appreciate being subjected to hidden tests. I may not have made the best choices in life, but I’m not so despicable as to ravish someone under the influence either.”

Blinking owlishly but stare quite clear, Soto whipped around to gawp at him. “What do you—”

“Good night, Agent Soto.” He could understand, at last, why Ollie and his reluctant human roommate relished their perches atop a high horse. The rush of victory was amazing as he spun on his heel and strode toward the room’s door.

The sound of grating bedsprings warned him before a hand latched onto the back of his shirt. With a deft turn and shrug, Renato broke the laughable hold on him.

“What the hell—” Soto began.

“I understand the need to hold a grudge.”

“—do you mean—”

“What I don’t get is digging for more reasons to fuel it.”

“—by ravish?”

They stared each other down. Any possibility of hypnosis taking hold tore apart in the clashing currents of hot and cold fury radiating between them.

“I wasn’t testing you,” Soto said, breaking first.

“Oh, really? Please do explain. I’m all ears, as they say.”

“I told you, I want to learn—”

“You’re terrible at lying, Agent Soto. Even to yourself.”

He bristled, the all too familiar defiance setting his jaw and sparking in his eyes. “I’m not—”

Renato whirled and reached for the doorknob.

Weak human fingers scrabbled at him once more. “I don’t know how else to talk to you, all right? And I didn’t think you’d pry into my love life, for fuck’s sake!”

The truth at last. Instead of melting, the rage inside of him expanded, sinking fresh, keen icicles deeper into his chest.

Of course Soto couldn’t simply talk to him. Renato was a bloodborn. Worse, he was an aquila. He wasn’t capable of human mistakes. Or emotions like remorse. At best, he could pretend he was. Wear a charming disguise. Beguile. Lure. Distract. But never offer anything permanent. Never anything real.

“Say something already!” The grip on his shirt tugged. “Don’t give me this silent treatment bullshit.”

Whatever mask had settled over his features made Soto let go and take a step back when he turned.

“Do you want me to make you lose control, Isaac?”

Soto stiffened. It didn’t hide the tremor in his limbs. “You conceited prick.”

“Isaac.” He’d forgotten how good the name felt in his mouth. “It’s a yes or no question.”

Narrowed brown eyes spat death curses at him before darting away again. Soto’s tightened lips parted. No sound came forth. They sealed shut again.

Renato sighed. “You’re a bad liar, but I never took you for a coward when it came to being honest.”

He could have dodged, easily. Instead, he allowed Soto to grab his shoulders and bring their mouths crashing together. Let him decide, too, when to break away and stagger back, chest heaving, stare wide at his own daring.

“That’s not an answer, Isaac.”

“You—!”

Renato slipped one hand around the back of Soto’s head, weaving his fingers into careless black curls but not pulling. Not yet. The other cupped Soto’s jaw, pleasantly rough and raspy from a couple day’s worth of stubble. With his thumb Renato wiped the frown from his lips.

“Yes or no.”

Soto closed his eyes, but it was already too late to hide anything going on behind them. A half-choked swallow made his throat flex in the most enticing way. “I…yes. Yes, okay? I want it.”

It. He wanted it, nothing more. Of course. Still, Renato could do better than a grudging confession.

His hand went from cradling Soto’s face to tearing open his shirt—the shirt always fucking buttoned up to the collar. He should have been a priest, truly. Soto gasped from the sudden violence or the air hitting his exposed shoulder and chest or both. Not giving him a chance to recover, Renato leaned in and started sucking on every bit of bared skin he could get at. Not biting, no, never that again, no matter how much he wanted to chew and rip until Soto’s pulse burst in his mouth like a ripe slice of orange. He only let his throbbing fangs graze over warm flesh, press against it to leave imprints of his teeth behind. Maybe prick it here and there so his tongue could lave over the precious ruby beads of blood afterwards. Savor each tiny shock that shot through him and made the world’s colors scintillate for an instant. Soto threw his arms around Renato to stay standing. Each sharp kiss drew a new, delightful prey noise from him.

He was even more intoxicating than memory served.

Pulling back, Renato inspected his work. Half a dozen little reddish-brown bruises trailed from Soto’s neck and skimmed along just above the curve of his collarbone. A satisfactory start.

“Yes?” Renato prompted again.

Eyes still shut, Soto shivered. “Yes.”

Much, much better. Smiling, Renato guided his willing victim back a pace and shoved him onto the nearest bed.

[everythingblackblack]

Do you have any ideas on Kaito and Akako's powers? She mentions that no man can resist her charm but statistically speaking not all men can be straight and even girls seem to find her beautiful and have a generally good impression of her (though I'm a big fan of bi or lesbian Aoko), in 'Please be my prisoner' she wonders if Kaito is a child but I doubt she'd be so worked up if it was normal for her powers to be weaker on late bloomers seeing as her main influence is on high-schoolers still going through puberty. Immun ity because they like someone else doesn't quite work either. What do you think her powers include? She makes potions and uses magic circles, crystal balls and seems to have contracts with demons and can fly a broom. Her Cleopatra tiara implies she can utilise relics/artefacts for their powers. I love Asexual and Aromantic Kaito, but the angst potential of pandora Kaito is great and it makes more sense for Kaito to have strong magic or a different colour of magic that deflects hers maybe. Them working together beyond Akako giving cryptic prophecies makes sense because Kaito need more info on magic beyond his dad's unhelpful post-death mentions (Akako being angry at Kaito's dad for teaching him that magic doesn't exist when he himslef was involved with magic-users) due to the nature of Pandora and I think despite being 'natural enemies' he's fine with using her magic so long as it doesn't do more harm than non-magical means and will gladly use his magic tricks to help her with the supernatural side of things when he can (Kaito proving an endangered mythical being doesn't exist to protect it).

First of all, you have my eternal love, the person I mentioned 'Please be my prisoner', it's my favorite character song. Okay, I'll break down your questions. Well, we don't really have much information about Akako's magic, but that hasn't stopped me from rambling on about it either. Personally I had fun at first assuming that the reason Kaito wasn't affected was because he was so gay for Shinichi. My favorite headcanon is Kaito Bi, but I can understand the aromantic Kaito headcanon, it would make sense that he wouldn't be affected by the spell if that were the case.

I have to tell you that I have a tendency to lean towards more fun and chaotic scenarios than logical ones, so my brain can't help but take what you've told me and turn it into fun angst.

Can you imagine if Akako's magic worked on gays? How crazy and stressful that would be? I can just visualize some random guy seeing her and falling in love with her and think of everything it took for him to figure himself out so that he ended up liking women!

I have no idea how it translates into English, but in Spanish we have a word called "amarre" (binding spell), it's a spell that witches often use to bring two people together, usually it's because one of the parties doesn't want to let the other go, doesn't take their opinion into account and forces them to be with her by force. Witches often recommend not using it, because the person resists the spell and by doing so begins to change their personality and way of being, they can become violent and even abusive with their "love interest", "amarre" never end well.

There is also another thing called "Endulzamiento" which is what I think Akako might use, it's not to make people fall in love, rather, it's to make someone feel attracted to you.

Although, Akako also makes me think of the Greek goddess Aphrodite or Medusa herself, only instead of turning people into stone, they fall in love with her. Personally, I had just assumed that Kaito was maybe just immune because he also had magic or some gene that repels magic, but who knows. About Akako's general powers, it seems that she may have telepathy because she talks to Kaito in his mind, pyrokinesis because she sets the magic circle on fire and also electrokinesis because she shoots lightning at him. Maybe even telekinesis, she's so amazing.

I definitely think Akako would be mad if she got the whole story of why Kaito became KID, she's shown that she cares about Kaito.

One of the reasons I really like the Akako x Kaito is because Akako can give him all the information about magic that he doesn't have, maybe she even knows about pandora.

I haven't seen almost anyone mention it (skipping the fanfics), the fact that pandora isn't the only magic Jewel and that Akako uses magic artifacts, could give a clue that she's the key to find it.

[braveblackbutterfly]

ok obligatory asking more about the pack because i actually really really love werewolves

Thanks for the second ask Rarka! I'm so happy to talk about the Azad pack with you (and the rest of the world)!!

The Azad pack is made up of four Indian/Desi siblings: Jaya, Pravin, Deepnita and Aja. Jaya (26) is the eldest and the alpha of the pack, Pravin (23) is the second oldest/eldest brother, and Deepnita and Aja (14) are twins/the youngest.

Eleven years prior to the events in the book, their parents went to India for a mission but never returned home. At 15, Jaya had to grow up fast to become the new alpha of the pack and raise her younger siblings. Jaya is very serious and protective of her siblings. She can't show weakness despite how much she misses her parents.

Pravin is also a serious person. He sometimes acts as if he is the head of the family until Jaya reminds him she is the oldest and was made alpha. He keeps track on the information and history of their culture/kind, other supernatural beings and the people in their neighborhood.

As the youngest of the pack, Deepnita and Aja both wants to be taken more seriously amongst the pack. Deepnita is the most lighthearted of the pack. She is constantly in a good mood and can find the positivity in any dreary situation. Aja is the most active of the pack, always ready for a challenge/fight. Being they were so young when they parents left, they have few memories of their parents, but misses them deeply, especially Deepnita who questions when/if they will come back home.

The siblings live a quiet life in their family's old bricked house at the end of the road that leads into the ongoing woods. They keep a very low profile to keep themselves safe from the outside world. The only people who knows about them are Kaida's family. The Azad parents made an oath with Kaida's parents to not harm any humans in exchange for keeping them alive and providing any info they have on nearby vampires. Kaida and her boyfriend/hunting partner Shoya doesn't visit the Azad pack often. When they do, it's usually to check on them or ask for a favor/exchange for info.

Kaida and Shoya recommends the Azad pack to Wendi and co. for their mission to stop Ken and his coven. They take Wendi, her cousin Kesia, Trevor and his coven to meet the werewolf pack at their house.

The meeting gets tense at times, especially between Jaya and Kaida, with the huntress pointing a crossbow at the wolf. Once Wendi explains her story/mission, Deepnita insists to Jaya that they should help the group, but Jaya doesn't want expose her and Aja to such a violent situation. Deepnita then goes into the woods to get their brothers, and the four of them debate back and forth on whether it's a good idea. When they question how they will stop themselves from attacking the allies during the full moon party, Wendi offers to put a spell on them to keep them aware of who are the allies and who are the enemies. Finally, Jaya agrees for her pack to help them stop Ken.

*

This is most of the canon I have come up so far for the Azad pack. I didn't do much research on Indian/desi culture when I first wrote this book. But I would love to do some research now and expand on the characters.

Also, I will add their character's descriptions to my original ocs bios post and make picrew for them.

Also, someone please ask me about Kaida and Shoya! Fun fact: I was planning to write a prequel about Kaida's first year as a vampire hunter. But I never finished writing that book.

[clanofjones]

Ghosts of Our Days - Chapter One

A TMNT 2012 Rasey fanfic by myself and @theosb0rnway

Ao3 (full work)

Additional chapters will be linked!

Note that this fanfiction contains themes such as the described murder of a major character, descent into insanity, lack of self-care, and lots of gratuitously violent scenes, resulting death. However, Oz and I are also suckers for soft Rasey on occasion in-between the angst!

Summary:

When the battle against Super Shredder goes fatally wrong and Raphael pays the price, Casey is forced to go into hiding while plotting revenge against his newest foe. Despite abandoning the turtles, April, and his old life for secrecy, he's not as alone as he thinks he is... or is that just his newfound insanity?

Chapter One: Shredded Heart

If there was one thing to be said about any of it, it was that running with two hockey sticks strapped to one's back, irregularly sized gloves on one's hands, and numerous bits and bobs strapped all over their person wasn’t easy.

And Casey Jones qualified as ‘one’.

However, it was a learned terrain, and his fit was less bulky than usual as he leapt across rooftops. Probably for the better, he thought as he stopped right behind Raph, April, Slash, and Splinter as the latter motioned for their party to come to a halt.

“The Shredder,” was all he offered by means of an explanation. “He is atop that building.” He pointed to the building in question, Wolf Hotel.

Casey noted that it would be a heck of a climb if they were on that serious of a time crunch.

“That’s where we fought for the first time,” Raph recalled with vague surprise in his tone.

“And that’s where we take him down,” Slash added. “Once, and for all!”

Taking his words as incentive enough, the group darted off, taking to the street, and manhandling an accessible window. Nobody spoke as the group ascended the stairs, adrenaline palpable, and Casey was sure it was coursing through their veins as much as it was in his as they spilled out onto the roof.

Well. Him and April much more literally.

Adrenaline didn’t do much in the way of climbing more than twenty levels of stairs for a couple of ordinary humans.

“So… Why couldn’t we… take the elevator?” Casey gasped out as he hobbled onto the roof, regretting in tenfold the sweaty gloves occupying both of his hands as he used one of his hockey sticks to continue forwards. “At least… Me and April?”

April staggered out behind him, with similar concerns. “Feels like my… legs are disconnected from my body…” However, neither of them received any sympathy, barring a cursory glance from the others.

“Quiet. Shredder is near,” Splinter said, and Casey just managed to find his bearings and pull his mask down as Raph pulled out his sais and April rolled up her sleeves.

“Oh man,” April said in a grave tone as Splinter’s gaze flicked in the opposite direction. “I sense him. He’s close!” Exactly on cue, the Super Shredder burst from the ground below, and Casey could barely make out the silhouette of his enemy against the moonlight before he had landed, declaring vengeance once again.

“Hamato Yoshi… At last. My nightmares will end, for tonight, you shall finally perish.”

“Indeed. I will end your nightmares, Saki.” Splinter extended his weapon with a swish of his arms. “Permanently!”

Super Shredder’s claws extended, breathing heavy. Then, at the exact same moment, the two ran at each other. Super Shredder jumped above Splinter as he made a jab at Super Shredder’s shoulder with his weapon, but he grabbed Splinter’s left shoulder with his right arm, and tossed him across the roof.

Splinter crawled across the roof, facing up, away from Super Shredder’s persistent punches, each of which would have ended his life.

Just as it looked that he was in the clear, Super Shredder grabbed Splinter’s rat tail, lifted him clear over his head, and swung down at the ground.

Not having relinquished his grip, he flung Splinter towards a cell tower, finally letting go. Splinter took the vague advantage to land gracefully, the weapon still extended.

Super Shredder ran at Splinter again, but Slash intercepted him, and Casey cheered internally as Slash’s mace met Super Shredder’s arm.

However, his cheer turned into a groan as Slash was flung into the hotel sign they’d all seen before.

Now’s the time, Jones, he told himself as he ran out from his lack of cover, and a smoke bomb puck exploded next to Super Shredder’s head. Another one was at the ready, Casey keeping it in front of him all the while.

“GOONGALA!” he shouted, and hit the puck with enough force that the stick would have splintered if he’d hit it against the concrete below.

The puck soared through the air, and connected with its target, exploding with the force of a small bomb. A real one, too.

The explosion, while not deterring Super Shredder by much, left an opening for Raph to jump in with a yell, spinning his sais. The sais met Super Shredder’s claws, and Raph had to take a knee due to the force.

Casey jumped in again, and swung his hockey stick at Shredder’s head. This time, it did break into a million tiny pieces as he caught his footing once more, and jumped past Super Shredder with a punch as Raph attempted to restrain their much taller enemy.

To his horror, Super Shredder pried Raph from his back, and proceeded to pummel him into the ground, Raph’s legs twitching with each blow.

Oh, hell no. Not Casey Jones’ boyfriend, you didn’t.

But before Casey could even begin to enact revenge in Raph’s name, the latter was drop-kicked carelessly to the edge of the roof as Raph groaned, rolling half the way.

Casey’s head whirled towards him – the mask didn’t provide much view except for what was directly in front of him – and was about to rush to his aid when April beat him to it, and Casey felt the vestiges of telekinetic energy push him back a bit as Raph was forced back onto solid ground.

But whatever physics were still in play must have applied to April too, and she was forced off the roof in turn. He restarted his mad dash for the roof’s edge, hoping those same physics wouldn’t let him be too late.

Casey watched as she fell from the rooftop, shooting his grappling hook as fast as he could, hoping that it would reach her in time. It hit the ground with a crack, pulling him forward towards the edge a bit.

By some miracle, April caught the rope, landing about four or five feet from the ground. She climbed down and dislodged the hook from the ground, the metal gadget going back up to Casey.

He'd been off guard for too long, knowing now he could finally look back at the battle going on around him. He would go on to wish he never did.

As he turned around, he saw Raph trying to take down Super Shredder on his own, Splinter laying on the ground several feet away from them both. With no hesitation, Shredder grabbed Raphael by the neck, holding him up for Casey to see.

"CASEY RU-" Raph was cut off by a claw spearing straight through his shell and out his plastron, letting out a small gasp.

All he could see was Casey, and all Casey could see was red. This wasn't happening, this wasn't happening, this wasn't-

Casey shook all thoughts from his mind, letting himself go as he charged at the hulking being.

"GOONGALA!!!!" Casey roared, launching himself at the villain, his mind and body on a warpath.

Shredder threw Raph to the side, losing focus for a split second, giving Casey the opportunity to get his potato masher taser straight into one of the gaps in the madman's armor. Shredder tensed and fell with a groan, and once again Casey used his time to grab Raphael and do the last thing his lover had told him to do: run.

He slung the injured turtle over his shoulder as fast as he could, used to the weight by now. He readied his hook and shot at the nearest building, silently jumping from rooftop to rooftop, not looking back until the Wolf Hotel was far out of sight.

He set his bleeding boyfriend up against the edge of some random building top, tears starting to run down his face when he got a better look at the wound. He could tell immediately that Raph didn't have long to live and that no human hospital could help him in any way.

"Raph! Raphie, goddamnit, stay with me babe, stay with me!" He tugged the bandana off his head as fast as he could, trying to stop the bleeding, but he knew it was no use. However, he wouldn't let Raph go without a fight.

"Case... it's alright, okay? It's... just a... stab, I'm... gonna be... fine..."

"Shit! SHIT! This isn't fine, Raph, this is bad, this is... this is TOO bad, fuck! I can't-"

The turtle looked him in the eyes and grimaced. They both knew time was short.

"I know. Just... lay down... with... me, will ya? The stars... they l-look... so pretty t-tonight..." A few minutes ago, Casey could lie about having a few tears in eyes, but now, he couldn't do that at all. He tossed his mask off with the same carelessness as his bandana and quickly laid down next to Raph's side, placing his head right next to his hand holding the bandana down.

Casey's makeup was a mess, leaving a mess of black and white stains on Raph's plastron. He couldn't even bother to look up at the stars, all he could do was look at Raph, hearing the ninja's breathing slow. "Take... take care... of...them for me.... alright?" Casey nodded, burying his head into Raph's neck and letting out a mumbled

"I love you, Raphie."

"L-Love you.. too, C-Casey Jones... l-love... you... too..." The warrior took his final breath, his eyes looking not to the stars above him as his final sight, but to the brightest star in his life.

That brightest star was about to become the sun, and not because of how much love he had in his heart. It was all the rage Casey had feared, all the rage he'd held back for the sake of his boyfriend breaking open like a dam, filling him and fueling him to do one thing and one thing only: Kill the Shredder.

It was time to take what had been taken from him, and Casey Jones has never been above a few broken bones.

Or murder.

.

.

.

.

A/N: HERE WE GO, FELLAS >:D

Send my bestie, @theosb0rnway, some love for the AMAZING writing on the death scene and Rasey moment! He deserves ALL the praise and ALL the good things and I will not take criticism on that!

Chapter Two ->

[likeyua]

@dragonflytehanu thanks for the ask <3

Tell us about your Tav! Name, class and subclass, race, pronouns. Do you have a headcanon for where they're from? Their family? Are they a Dark Urge? Or did you choose an Origin Character? Was it an easy decision?

I already wrote a bit about Akachi here. To add: despite her being a Faithless (she doesn't hide it), people usually notice she always wear a necklace with the holy symbol of Eilistraee. The jewel was passed down to her from her mother Ardul'ylene (it was originally of her grandmother Esmerelle), when she decided to abandon her faith in the Dark Maiden: it has no religious meaning to Akachi. For her, it is simply a treasured memento of her family, a reminder that no matter where she is, her family is always with her.

Another fact about Akachi is that she is named after a Chosen of Myrkul. At first she wasn't happy when she learnt this; but she changed her mind after her parents narrated to her the story of the man, what he did and why (basically, they told her about the events of Neverwinter Nights 2: Mask of the Betrayer). She's proud of her name and a sure way to greatly anger her is to insult her for it.

Kidis is my Dark Urge oc. She's a drow bard, playing her violin whenever she can because it temporarily soothes her growing unease about her violent urges. At first, she thought that her violent impulses & loss of memory were a symptom of ceremorphosis, but when it became clear that they aren't, she simply decide to ignore them, hoping (wrongly) that they will go away on their own. This is her usual way to deal with the issues she face. She also cares a great deal about her reputation, wanting to be unremarkable and forgettable as possible: the less people she has to interact with directly, the better.

3. Has your Character been using their illithid powers?

Akachi: only to rescue Shadowheart on the nautiloid and to read Astarion's mind when he tried to bite her. The latter event caused her to never use the powers for the rest of the game: she felt so awful after doing it because she violated someone else's mind and she loathes when it is done on her (and she will feel worse when she will learn about Astarion's past). She did it instinctively, thinking he was attacking her, but after Astarion left, she vowed to never doing it again and tried to apologize to him for it the next day.

Kidis: she is less careful about using them. She thinks that using them in order to avoid fights and to obtain useful information from enemies is acceptable.

24. Was your illithid tadpole empowered by anything in Act 1? If so, how does your Character feel about that?

No. Absolutely not. Neither Akachi nor Kidis use other tadpoles to empower their own. Why give more power to the source of your problems?

27. Who ended up in your Character's most used party?

Akachi: the main party for act 1 is Astarion/Karlach/Gale. Astarion is always in the party (initially because she doesn't trust him and wants to keep an eye on him, after she comes to enjoy his company), Gale is the one swapped out when I need another companion for their quest (only for gameplay reasons) and Karlach because she and Akachi get on well immediately (this won't last, though, because they will fall out in act 3 over how to deal with a certain npc).

Kidis: Astarion is always in the party as usual. There's also Lae'zel because Akachi didn't recruit her and I want to see her story. The last party member, for now, is Shadowheart.

[xxmia0wm4yh3mxx]

Hey guizzz iz me!! imad sum backrooms ocz so here *gives*

(also these are just lazy doodles)

i love these two frickin idiots❤️ ok but like some backstory:

after a partygoer/partypooper meeting two attendees were transported to level 0 and it took about the frontrooms equivalent of 2 months of smilers, hounds, violent wanderers, skin givers and stealers, to get back to their own levels, but they kinda ended up becoming unlikely friends or "truceies" as funny calls it they try to ignore their obvious friendship

or maybe..?

but even though their as different as can be, they still remain on good terms! (or more like enemies and friends)

despite partygoers usually being super smart, cuppycake is eeeeeeeeeh lesser in intellect, their clumsy, forgetful and just kinda of an idiot in the partygoer's eyes and sometimes even foregets their suppose to kill wanderers

They also like to check into the after party level to check on the capybaras!

Suger Hearts is the main baker in Level Fun, their sweet, but super sadistic

they dont usually exit level fun, but when they do, they'll trick humans into thinking they're nice and feed them human cakes, and kill them hansel and gretel style (if that makes sense) but to the partygoers they're a like a sweet grandma

they also have a sibling relationship :3

Nell Nocliped into the Backrooms with her dad when she was 9, despite her father being completely unexerienced and confused as his daughter was, she still clinged being a scared nine year old girl,

which made his death so much more traumatizing, after that she was found by a young M.E.G researcher you was born in the backroom named Axel, after the years Nell became a top-notch fighter and explorer, but has a distant and cold attitude towards other wanderers because of her father, well expect for Axel, they even work together were Nell fights and Axel studies

but after they tried to study the Gameing halls together Axel didn't Noclip back, so shes trying to get back to the gaming halls to get her adoptive brother back

which was going good until someone notso partygoer and notso partypooper decides to be friends

Entity

Number : 67.8

Habitat: Room #170

Description:

Entity Number 67.8 or "Lucky the PartyCrasher" is a Entity that resides on Room #170 on Level 52 were the PartyPooper used to Reside were they put up ballons, confetti, gift bags, and games. They have a undying Hatered for Partygoers, thus writing on the chalkboard in the board room "THE WAR WILL NEVER BE OVER =|"

Behaviors:

Lucky has been known to be Friendly but very hyper, and over the top, and somewhat anxiety inducing, but overall helpful and somewhat sweet at times Lucky has also been known to have a sadistic sense of humor, and will happily kill anyone their guests dont like, and will take threats and insults as jokes, but will surprisingly will not kill anyone you harms them, and will just sends them to a dangerous level.

When wanderers enter the halls on Level 52 they may find a trail of signs that states

"COME AND HAVE A BLAST! =|"

Many run from this thinking its a Partygoer's trap, but those that do, you'll be startled by Lucky draging you by the hand into Room #170 and be greeted by Lucky handing you a gift bag with, a slinky, bouncey ball, plastic rings, almond water, neon Water, candy found in the frontrooms, sticky hand, and bandages, and warm yellow lucky o milk, which is always Luck falvored

when trying to leave you'll be grabbed by the neck with Lucky saying

"You can't leave yet silly! we still have to bake your cake and play games! :|" when asked to play games, they will excited pull out something like the corpse of a partygoer stuffed with frontrooms Candy held put like a pinyata, and handed a bloody baseball bat with nails sticking out and asked to "Get revenge on those nasty Fun Ruiners!" if you refuse they'll ask you to hold up the corspe, but be careful because Lucky will start swinging the bat blindfolded, after the games, Lucky will ask you to help them "bake your birthday cake" after singing your birthday song, you can leave, Leaving Lucky sad put understanding.

Lucky as been known to hunt Partygoers with a giant crimson sword and ruin their party's and as never lost a battle between them, or anyone else, making some people to believe that they have a relationship with the Crimson Wanderer.

Biology:

Entity 67.8 sports a long sleeved striped pastel Pink and purple hoodie and green pants with yellow four leaf clover patterens all over and a matching party hat, they have a green bag covering their face with holes for eyes with red tear like markings down their face, their skin and face is completely unknown, though their hands have been described as simalir to a partygoers, but other wanderers state that they have gloves hands similar to a PartyPooper's, they wear purple rollers blades for supposed stamina boost, they refuse to take off their bag and hoodie, while hunting or wandering they wear a green mask with a neutral expression

Discovery:

Lucky was discovered by a M.E.G Researcher under the Code name "DRAKO" who was supposed to have an interview with Mr. Freeman, but was cut off when they got distracted by a sign saying "FUN HERE! :|" and being pulled into "The Birthday Room" below is the conversation between Drako and Lucky.

_________________________________________

Interview Log 08/17/2021

Interviewer: M.E.G Researcher Code name: Drako

Interviewee: Lucky the PartyCrasher

_________________________________________

Drako: Who are you? Where am I?

Lucky: Your at your Birthday Silly!

Drako: What!? Get me Out!

he starts running frantically to the locked door

Lucky: Awww Thats Such a Shame! We were Just about to start baking your Cake!

Drako: I have a gun! so dont you-

he noticed how his emergency gun has been replaced by a Banana as Lucky giggles uncontrollably

Lucky: C'mon open your presents!

They hand him a gift bag

Drako: alright..?

Drako: Sticky hand.. Gumballs.. Neon Water...

Lucky: See! Im not Like those Other party Ruiners! im Actually fun! and not a Loser!

Drako: umm alright?

Lucky: C'mon have a Seat!

37ish minutes of silence

Drako: so... Your a Partygoer?

Lucky: of course Not! im not one of those Fun Ruining Losers! Im Nothing like them!

NOTHING.

Drako: Alright! Alright! Jeez!

37ish more minutes of silence

Drako: So... your a PartyPooper?

They slammed their fist on the small plastic table

Drako: Okay Jeez! Sorry!

Lucky: ...well I mean I dont have anything AGAINST them.. its just They have those Flithy FunRuiners on their plate and they WONT. TAKE. A. BITE.

they slam their fists again breaking the table.

Lucky: See! look what they did! but enough of that! lets play a game!

they go into a closet and pull out a corpse of a partygoer with holes in its torso and a red light smashed into its head

While Drako and Lucky were playing a morbid game of operation, he noticed the crimson sword

Drako: Nice sword you got there

Lucky: hm?

Drako: where'd you get it?

Lucky: Oh that old thing? just a gift from a good friend!

As Drako removed the last piece Lucky fling the corpse across the room

Lucky: Hurray you won! now time for cake!

Lucky: Whats your favorite flavor? Chocolate, Vanilla, Almond, FunRuiner-

Drako: FunRuiner?-

Lucky: FunRuiner it is!

Drako: Wait No-

It was to late, they were already adding partygoer flesh into the batter

after the party Lucky brought Him back into The M.E.G Base and gave them a awkwardly long hug.

unfortunately Drako got explosive diarrhea from the cake

_________________________________________

(okay im might get into some of Luckys backstory) Audrey was forced into a noclip area by her older brother with no knowledge of the Backrooms, were she was saved from a smiler by a Partygoer named Happy-Go-Lucky so they could manipulate her into going to level fun were they told her she could take her home, but accidentally become very close friends instead and even considered her "fun".

after a the overused liar reveal troupe Audrey went to Level fun herself, and after trying to save her, they were served a slice of cake with a piece of emerald green eye as a cherry.

after that their skin began to change, their skin began to fall of after refusing to kill any wanderers every again, but not resisting the loud and chaotic part of them that Audrey grew to love, making the skin grow back and fall off again, swearing to kill all the partygoers or "FunRuiners" they became the PartyCrasher.