#i think i may end up adding that air plant after all

[kedreeva]

Willow has molted again (i10!) and finally came out of her hammock far enough I could let her walk herself to her new home. She's currently exploring, and I look forward to seeing which hide she likes better.

[ajortga]

sweet

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: after filming, jenna decides to relax for some coffee, not expecting to meet you and fall in love with girl that makes her knees weak.

word count: 1.9k+

read the next parts here! : part 2 part 3

Jenna can remember meeting you like it was yesterday.

At a coffee shop, not too far from the scream set in New York City.

She roamed around, it was evening, the sun was going to set soon, Jenna could tell the way the sky slightly became yellow, getting the slightest pink.

Jenna liked sunsets.

She had just finished filming for a scene, her headphones were on and she needed some fresh air. 

Her noise cancellation was on, walking the streets as she felt her stomach rumble quietly, she was hungry.

She looked around for a place to snack as she looked around, a famous pizzeria was definitely not what she needed.

She turned a corner and she saw a place that was made out of caramel bricks, plants neatly outside with vines hanging from head to toe, she could see the warm welcoming presence on the inside, lanterns hung from the ceiling.

She didn’t really like coffee.

It was so bitter the first time she tried it, of course she didn't know (till recently) that she ordered black coffee with no sugar or creme and almost choked it out.

So she stopped, if anything it added less sleep along with her insomnia.

But she went anyway, the vibe felt comforting. Plus there had to be more than just bitter coffee.

She pushed the door open, a small ding being heard.

Then she could smell the soft scent of coffee and fresh pastries lingering, she felt her hands cold, but her gaze shifts up, and she can feel her whole body warm, like a cozy fire, suddenly, she felt nothing but a daze of love shock.

Her eyes meet your figure, your hair was in a messy bun, a ruffled beige apron tucked around your body over a blouse, pouring creamer in a latte cup, a flower design being made as you traced the coffee with soft hands.

Your focused eyes shift from the cup to her, she can see a small glow in your warmth, they soften as you smile, waving. Softly, but loud enough to hear over her headphones, you saying, “Welcome!” 

She can feel her lips twitch into a smile, tucking her scarf beneath the nape of her neck, it was already warm enough here.

She looked up at the menu, so much to choose from.. And so many flavors.

She bit her lip, in thought as she was stuck, there was a lot.

But so much coffee, she may have not liked coffee the best, but coffee with this many flavors could change her mind.

She was there for a long moment, until you spoke up, you were in front of her, thinking she was going to order, she was standing in front of the cashier after all.

“Trouble choosing what you want?” You ask, tilting your head.

That took her out of her trance, taking her headphones off and wrapping them around her neck. She finally realized where she was standing, in front of the damn register.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I can be kind of clueless when I have headphones on, uh, um. Oh yes, I’m not so sure what to get, I’ve never been here.”

You give her a smile, and she can swear she feels her legs wobble, she could drown in those eyes. So pretty..

“Don’t apologize, please. Don’t worry, it’s okay not knowing what you want, to be honest I think you would like a drink. I think you would like our french vanilla or pumpkin spice latte.. With a sprinkle of cinnamon. How does that sound? This is just my recommendation, I could be wrong, but I think I can read what people should get pretty well! They end up liking it. Don’t count on me though,” You breathe with a little laugh. You sound adorable when you laugh. Your lips are perfect. Kissable.

She feels something she hasn’t felt in so long, butterflies. 

You were so sweet, something about you made her not want to tell you she didn't like caffeine or the taste. 

You just called her love, if anything the color of love was on her cheeks.

“I.. Um.. Yes, I’ll take that. Can you mix those?…”She was going to say your name but didn’t know it, looking down at your name tag, Y/N/L/N. “Uh.. Oh Y/N."

“Of course I can! One french vanilla spice coming up! Anything else you would like? Our pastries just came out of the oven if you’re in the mood for that.”

You were pretty. Unlike any other stranger she'd see on the street before.

Jenna looked at the display, her hand pointing to where her eyes landed, “I’ll take one of your strawberry croissants, I never tried that.”

“You never had these? These are perfectly sweet and soft! They’re my favorite. That’ll be $8.13 please.”

She grabbed her card and swiped it, and you smiled, “Thank you Jenna, give me 5 minutes or so.” You looked at the name of her card.

You look at the names of her customers from their card, how cute. You definitely wanted her. (Or so her delusional brain thought.)

After a few minutes of sitting down and lost in her thoughts from the music, (possibly staring at you preparing her drink the whole time,) she hears you call her name in the distance.

Something about your voice had the slightest softness, she never loved someone calling her her name more than now. Y/N/L/N. Your name is pretty. It'll be even prettier when your last name is hers when you're married-

She walked up to you and you handed her a light brown tray, with her latte in a cup, the design with a pumpkin with a small heart on it, and her powdered strawberry croissant. 

“Thank you.” She whispers, taking it gently and going back.

She sits down in the corner of the room, a booth with a pumpkin decoration and vinyls hung, she could see the steam fogging in front of her and just realizes how cold it really is.

She smells cinnamon, a small whiff of it.

She likes the smell of cinnamon. It reminds her of her childhood home on Christmas when snickerdoodles were being made.

She smells vanilla too.

She likes vanilla. She likes vanilla more than chocolate.

Her hands lifts the mug to her lips and drinks.

Immediately she feels the warmth seep through her like a gentle river, she hums at the taste.

The vanilla battles the strong bitterness of the coffee, leaving the smallest trail behind.

The pumpkin spice, she can taste it in the cream, it reminds her of fall.

It tastes comforting. It tastes like the feel of a steamy creamy soup that you have when it’s pouring rain outside. 

It makes her feel soothed. Cozy. Like she’s in her own Gilmore Girls show herself. 

Her lips press to the mug for the second time, sipping it again and it tastes so good. It’s not too sweet nor bitter. It tastes perfect. It warmed her whole body up, even with the freezing temperature.

She places the mug down on the wooden coaster, she’s never had a strawberry croissant before. 

And when she has a taste, she wants to buy the whole shop. Why has she never heard of this before?

There's a sweet fluffy cream in the middle, she can feel powdered sugar coating her lips as she licks them. 

It tasted sweet. It was light and delicious, the custard complimenting the sweetened strawberry. Who knew bread could pair with such. 

“Is it okay for you?””

She turns around and sees you, it seems like the rest of the customers had to go out before the pouring rain began to crash harder.

“It was more than okay, it was so good. I need that recipe,” Jenna jokes, making you laugh.

“The croissant is my grandma’s recipe. I remember she  made it when I first started baking in the kitchen. She thought it was so good that she had to put it on this cafe’s menu. For the latte on the other hand, you just have to know balance and what tastes right.”

Jenna’s slim hands waved a 5 dollar bill in the air, in which you immediately shook your head. 

“Take it,” she giggles.

“No, it’s yours.”

"No."

"Yes."

"If you keep it I'll give you my number."

... That was tempting for you.

“I wasn’t a big fan of caffeine in general. It was always too bitter or too sweet. I think it ruined the experience for me to try anymore. Take this as a word that I’ll be coming often,” she gave you a sweet smile, giving you a piece of paper on top of the money.

You looked at her with, a small grin forming on your face as you looked up, “You win. Thank you. look forward to you being a regular. I'll make your coffee extra lovely and sweet next time," you said with a wink that made Jenna blush.

Jenna’s smile never faltered as she left the coffee shop, seeing your number on her phone as she placed it in her back pocket. But as she tried to slide it in, it seemed a bit cramped as she took out the piece of paper that was blocking it. 

A five dollar bill. The five dollar bill she gave you.

She sighed, shaking her head with a small laugh, you were a smartass sliding the money she gave you back into her pocket without her knowing.

She folded it in her hands, looking back at the coffee shop, wanting to give it back and run so you couldn’t do anything. But as she looked back she could see the fairy lights on the sign dimming, your face behind the glass. You gave her a small playful wink as you flipped the sign to closed, your breath blew on the glass, putting a small heart on the fogginess and walked away.

Something in Jenna made her heart flutter, wanting to go to the coffee shop every day. Every. Single. Day.

But why? When she goes to restaurants she doesn’t seem excited to come again.

She could feel her cheeks heating up as she realized it was because of you. She wanted to come because of you and see your face, to see you giving her that smile or calling her name, to hear your voice as you talked to her, to see your pretty eyes glance down to her lips every once a while once again.

4:25pm

maybe y/n: sweet seeing you today, hope you didn't mind some money back, this is all i need :)

4:28pm

jenna: ooh. getting sweet already? hmmm, you're sneaky! maybe i'll pay you another visit tomorrow. (you reacted with 💗)

maybe y/n: aww, for me?

jenna: i wouldn't count on ittt but maybe it's a 50/50

4:30pm

maybe y/n: i don't think a customer would ask for someones phone number as an agreement?

..

4:35pm

jenna: you got me there

maybe y/n: i know i did jen :p

maybe y/n: don't get ahold of yourself, i still have to know you better ml

jenna: then tomorrow is set.

maybe y/n: tomorrow it issss (jenna reacted with a 😗)

She covered her face and let out a small groan as she came home, her back hitting the mattress as she looked up at the ceiling. She could feel a small grin forming on her face as her eyes sparkled, her nose scrunching.

She liked the girl who lay behind the mug of coffee.

She liked you.

-

a/n: wanted to take a small break on requests, i think i should focus on thinking of my ideas instead of doing request one by one from my inboxes, if that makes sense. requests are soon!

i'm not sure if i'll take some because sometimes these requests don't have any of my ideas in mind so it's hard to write something that feels good<3. enjoy this cute long ish drabble that i made a few months back but never finished<3

[yaut-jaknowit]

Back again with yet another idea -🥤

So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader can’t hide much from an experienced yautja

The Wrong Secret to Hold

Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)

Word Count: 2334

Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.

Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!

Masterlist

Ao3

Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the ship’s systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.

After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.

The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.

Everything was too much.

This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasn’t long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldn’t recall what happened to you.

Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.

Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.

All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.

As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. He’s been stressed since you’ve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. He’s been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clan’s court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.

The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.

Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find… scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.

Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! There’s no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didn’t know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.

What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.

The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.

Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasn’t awake.

One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you would’ve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.

Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadn’t woken up.

A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, you’ve never felt like before. Even if you hadn’t ate the day before, and you had.

The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.

Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.

Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.

Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didn’t move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.

His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didn’t wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasn’t a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.

Your name fell from his tongue again. That’s when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.

“Little one?” he softly called out to you.

Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.

Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.

The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldn’t keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.

Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. “Your eyes… they’re lightly glowing,” he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.

His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. “Stop, that hurts,” you whined, voice grumbler than usual.

Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.

“You smell like a Yautja.” Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. “But it’s your scent.” The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.

The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. “What did they do to you?” he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.

You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. “I-I don’t know,” you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong with me. Everything’s too loud. Everything’s too much. The air is too dry. It’s cold. My skin… I can feel everything!” Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.

Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.

His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.

“I keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,” he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. “And… you can see in the dark, can’tcha?” Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.

He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at… those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.

A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.

Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. “I will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,” he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.

The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you that’s currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.

You believed him. You knew he would. He’s been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. “It seems like you have a Yautja appetite,” he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.

“Come,” he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. “Eat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.” If it didn’t hurt, you would’ve hugged and kiss the alien to death.

Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.

[nanomooselet]

Episode Eight: Our Home

When this episode was first airing I saw someone describe it as "com[ing] for your feels with a rusty shiv" and it sure does! It sure does. It'll only get worse from here on out. :D

Little sprouts in their little hats! This scene is so friggin' cute and the show ruins it by cutting straight to the aftermath of the crash. Unfair.

The first time I watched this, I realised that Nai wasn't "evil" from the start. That is, he wasn't always... like he is now. I think he truly loved Rem and Vash, though he might have only realised how much later on. But on rewatch, I also don't think Vash's memories of his childhood with Nai carry the same level of nostalgic longing that Knives does for his memories. In the few short minutes he's being recorded, here are three things that Nai does.

Upset Vash by acting as though food - judging by Vash's reaction - makes Vash less of a Plant.

Play a prank by convincing Rem of something that isn't true.

Show affection to his brother... after Vash goes along with it and Rem falls for it.

I think, for Vash, the discovery they eventually made wasn't so violently unlike what he'd come to expect that he couldn't handle it. Vash believed he could rely on Rem to accept him and that was all he really needed. But what did Nai believe he had? His brother. He could rely on Vash to back him up, to play along, to understand. Vash seemingly being lesser, being other (like Rem) made Nai feel lonely. And though this touches on the manga* more than what we've so far seen in Stampede, I think Knives is far more of an idealist than Vash has ever been, even now.

Vash wants a better world, and he's willing to work for it, to fail, and to try again. He knows what it's like to fall short.

Knives wants a perfect world, and perfection admits no mistakes.

I just damn near made myself cry thinking about Rem and what she considers her mistakes MOVING ON.

THIS ISN'T AN IMPROVEMENT although it is a lovely colour scheme.

When Nai reveals the truth about the crash (or what he believes to be the truth; Knives cannot be relied upon as a source of information even a little bit), Vash flees. He continues to flee; even lying in the sand, it's to seek some kind of escape - not a good kind, but that's what it is. "I want this all to end./I don't want to be here." He can't, of course. Not before humans find him. We're survivors. For all our many faults, evolution didn't select for us giving up or failing to help each other, especially in the wake of such a disaster.

It's true that Brad and Luida aren't initially accepting of Vash, but it's Vash who frames himself in terms of usefulness, echoing Nai. It's Vash who seems to believe he shouldn't live unless he can... somehow make up for what "he" did. Luida doesn't know that. She sees another survivor, wrestling with the same guilt. I think the way she speaks with him may have been how she coped herself - and perhaps the way for Brad too, come to think of it. He acts like a paranoid dick, but when given a lead to pursue, he runs right off to dig through wreckage and bodies for some sign of Rem and finds the only shreds of comfort Vash was likely to get. They both have something to do. While I do wish Vash had chosen to live for the sake of living, I think what's keeping him in that bare little room isn't that he's an unproductive Plant or the hatred of humans (at least not just that). It's a trap he built for himself. As long as he does nothing, he's doing nothing wrong and he's not adding to the burden he already bears. They shouldn't trust him, not after what he did.

So when Luida trusts him to help the dying Plant as Rem's blank ticket story plays, she's making a choice. And that's to allow Vash to make his own choice: to live, even with his guilt.

The montage of him travelling around helping Plants! He teaches people how to take care of them properly! It makes him so happy!

So I really, really hope the speculation is wrong and Vash isn't burning himself out doing that. It seems paranoid, and it doesn't feel intuitively true the way some of my other speculation has, but that might just be wishful thinking. I definitely can't rely on Vash admitting it if it is true. I really hope he has at least one nice thing he doesn't pay for with his blood. :(

When Nai's influence re-emerges, so to does the burden of guilt, death and destruction he represents. It's funny that Brad's impulsive anger and mistrust is what drives Vash to seek his brother out - where Vash is going, he'll find plenty more of that.

One more thing. In the shot where Vash enters the Plant carrier (the city of July, or at least, the site where it'll be built in future), it zooms in to show Nai, standing. But if you look very closely as it does? He's rising to his feet from a kneeling position. I wonder what would have happened if Vash had entered a little earlier?

*Reading Maximum in like two days and then watching the final three/four episodes of Stampede was a terrible idea.

[dailycharacteroption]

Roleplay Ramblings: New Elements part 5

(art by bachzim on DeviantArt)

Outro

And so now we come to the end of this little dive into the new elements of Pathfinder, two new entries into the lore that help differentiate it from D&D and even real-world elementalism, creating something with it’s own unique identity, which isn’t to say it was boring before, just more derivative.

But before we end things off, let’s talk about some final thoughts.

Back when the kineticist was first introduced in First Edition, it was decidedly categorized as an occult class. Sure, there were lots of vibes of benders from Avatar, but also they were leaning into elemental psychokinesis: your firestarters, telekinesis-focused psychics, and so on. While most may not have actually used their mental stats for their powers (barring archetypes), they were categorized as a type of psychic.

However, the kineticist in Second Edition focuses more heavily on the elemental gate within, making their powers seem more primal than occult in nature. Because of this, I feel it’s very unlikely we’ll see the aether or void elements return to the kineticist, since they’re not true elements. However, that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. After all, a planar portal that lets one draw energies from another plane doesn’t have to draw specifically from an elemental plane.

Now, I’m sure that somewhere out there are some purists that decries these new elemental additions for any number of reasons, some with more legitimacy than others, but their arguments might consist of things like “metal is just a part of earth” or “plants can’t be their own element” or “the four elements are how things were intended to be by D&D’s creators”.

To the first and second argument I say that All classical elements break down conceptually in a setting where atomic chemistry ostensibly works similar to our own. Heck, Fire isn’t even technically a form of matter, it’s just energy (or perhaps plasma at best), and these elements no matter which model or culture they are drawn from is based on the limited understanding of the time. Heck, the dichotomy of earth/air and fire/water itself is just as artificial. Just because water can snuff out most oxygen-based combustion doesn’t make it a polar opposite to all combustion. Anything that is non-reactive and can displace the oxygen can do that.

Meanwhile, in the case of the third, Gygax and Arneson were not gods, nor were they the final arbiters on what you should have in a game about creativity and storytelling. They threw the elemental planes and elementals into the game because the two of them basically grabbed every concept from fantasy, sci-fi, and real-world mysticism and threw them in without regard for how it would all fit together until much later. (Not to mention some of their decisions are not something one would wish to emulate.) The point being is that elemental planes and magic are in the game for fun, not some rigid thing set by writers who maybe didn’t always handle certain ideas well.

On a slightly different tack, I do enjoy that the Rage of the Elements book has made efforts to re-build the association that certain elements have with different types of energy damage, something that the Core Rulebook of pre-Remastered Second Edition and other prior products worked hard to eliminate despite being a thing in 1st edition. While acid is still firmly outside of the purview of earth for now, cold and electricity have returned to water and air respectively, though still with the flexibility so that novel uses of those energies can still be found in other elements.

I think that’s all I can come up with for this week but thanks for reading, and I hope I gave you inspiration for adding these new elements to your first edition games, as well as some food for thought with the systems no matter which you use. Tune in next week for more archetypes and options!

[thischachamaru]

Dripping Wax

Summary: A knight and a peasant fight in an arena… there is a punchline. Some mild extortion takes place. In the end, Tanjiro ends up as an apprentice to a knight who doesn’t know what a joke is.

For rntnvillage prompts: chivalry / “yes, my lord”

AO3

Chainmail rattled as Tanjiro leapt sideways, dodging a blood-red axe. He scrambled to his feet, black axe in hand, as the crowd roared around the jousting arena.

His opponent laughed. "Excellent hustle, my boy!" he crowed, amusement clear in his voice. In the shadows of his helmet was a hint of gold, and two burning embers where the eyes would normally be— less of a knight and more of a demon.

Tanjiro gripped his axe tighter. "Thank you very much!" He paused, and added, as an afterthought, "um. Sir."

"You are very welcome!" The knight boomed. "Though, there's no need for such formalities. You may address me as Kyojuro Rengoku!"

"Sir Rengoku," corrected Tanjiro. He shifted back, taking a wide stance, pretending his heart wasn’t shaking. It was one thing, to chop wood. It was another to chop flesh- even if that flesh was covered in armor. “I… wish we had met under different circumstances,” he admitted.

“Hm.” Rengoku tilted his head. His eyes gleamed inside his helmet. “But I rather like this. Don’t you?”

Tanjiro didn’t know what to say to that.

Without warning, Rengoku spun on his heel, axe flashing. Metal connected— screeching past Tanjiro’s chest-plate, sparks flying, before whipping away, just missing the gap in his armor.

Before Tanjiro could so much as gasp, Rengoku pursued him, axe whirling, flashing, slicing— Tanjiro ducking, stumbling, slipping, backwards— until Rengoku slammed him into the fence. The crowd cheered.

A drop of blood plopped onto the mud. Then another. Then another.

“Got you,” huffed Rengoku. He tried pulling away, only to find his weapon embedded in Tanjiro’s axe handle. “Interesting.”

Their eyes locked. Tanjiro bared his teeth.

He wasn’t going to lose.

Tanjiro jerked away, yanking Rengoku with him— then he firmly planted his feet, whipping his head towards Rengoku.

BANG!

Both axes splashed to the ground, splattering mud over their armored boots.

“Got you,” wheezed Tanjiro.

As Rengoku stared, a crack split through his helmet. Bit-by-bit, the crack snapped over the faceplate and the helmet shattered— clanging as it clattered against his armor, to the muddied ground. In the sun, Rengoku’s ember-eyes shimmered like halos. Tanjiro recalled, then, why some men worshipped angels.

The rest of his features were equally bizarre. He had a delicate face with strong brows and bright, sweaty hair, that clung to his features like magma. The air swam around him, bubbling and popping and swaying— the sort of heat Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. One second, one moment of happiness.

Then he fell.

Rengoku made a choked noise.

After a long moment, he gathered himself, and shoved Tanjiro over the fence. “A very good fight!” he announced. “Though, being disarmed so easily, I am quite ashamed! Perhaps I should retire, and become a jester, hmm?” The hushed crowd burst into laughter. Rengoku picked up his axe, and twirled it elegantly, before tossing it to a page.

The nobles clapped politely as Rengoku bowed to them, and the crowd again cheered when he made his rounds, showing off an impressive display of archery as Tanjiro dazedly soaked in a puddle. Then, on dismissal, as the next competitors trotted into the arena, he hopped over the fence and squatted next to Tanjiro.

“That was impressive.” He poked Tanjiro in the forehead. “I’ve been training all my life for this. To think, I was defeated by a charcoal farmer… it’s very mortifying, you know!” he poked Tanjiro again, harder. “Regardless. It’s decided! You’ll become my apprentice.”

“Decided… “ Tanjiro blinked, trying to gain his bearings. The world tilted around him, swaying in doubles, “Decided… by who? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Decided by me! Right now.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that!”

Rengoku abruptly stood, hauling Tanjiro up, and slamming him into his chest-plate headfirst— denting it.

“Haha! You’ve quite the talent for destruction, don’t you?” teased Rengoku. “Shall I send you the repair bill?”

Tanjiro looked at the ruined armor and nearly sobbed. “I… don’t think I can afford it,” he dourly replied. “I’m sorry.”

“All the more reason to join me!” Rengoku then said. “You’re Tanjiro, are you not? I shall accept your blood, sweat and tears as payment. My word is my bond.”

This seemed more like blackmail than chivalry, but Tanjiro didn’t know enough about chivalry to disagree. “Yes, Sir Rengoku. Okay. But…”

I don’t want to fight, he silently pleaded. Rengoku watched him expectantly. I want to live with my sister. I want to live in peace. But…

In a world like this, that was impossible.

Knowing that, Tanjiro nodded, smiling weakly as Rengoku beamed.

“Very good!” Rengoku clapped a hand on Tanjiro’s back, nearly bowling him over. “To start— I’d like to use your head as a battering ram.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“That was a joke!” Rengoku yanked him closer, pinching Tanjiro between his arm and chest plates. “I hear you commoners like those sorts of things,” he added conspiratorially.

“Sorts of thi—,” Tanjiro stammered. “Do you— not know what a joke is?”

“Hm?” Rengoku did not blink. He did not look at Tanjiro. “Ah, yes. I’m quite familiar!”

“Ah,” nodded Tanjiro, as if he understood. He didn’t. Why would someone lie about that? “I’m just not used to your sense of humor, Sir. You’ll have to tell me more,” he instead offered, as Rengoku cheerily called for some ale.

Just what had he gotten himself into?

[grandmaster-anne]

Waste not, want not

By HRH The Princess Royal | Published 29 July 2020

EVERY year, month and day, I realise how fortunate and privileged I am to have grown up and spent most of my life in the countryside. It’s not only the space, appreciating the seasons, the wildlife, the plant life, the arable crops and the livestock, but, most importantly, it’s the people who live and work there and understand the complexity of their environment. I was equally fortunate that both my parents had a love and understanding of the natural world through their own experiences. Perhaps even more so for my father when, during his rather disjointed young life, he ended up at school at Gordonstoun and was introduced to the wilds of Scotland, both land and sea. Scotland had its influence on my mother, too, as did the big skies of Norfolk, and the huge fields and marshes of the Sandringham Estate. Windsor’s Home Park and Great Park were a constant presence for her, as they were for all of us. They had horses, dairies, hens, pigs—you could never be bored as a child. Windsor was and is a haven of peace, although not so quiet since the growth of air travel—until the lockdown.

Superficially, not much has changed since I was young; the Jersey herd is still there, although the cows now enjoy a robotic parlour. There are Sussex cattle in the Great Park and the crops are a different mix, but the forest is still there, as are ponds and wet areas, the Savill Gardens and Frogmore House Gardens. Buildings and skills that the Prince Consort would have recognised.

Prince Albert’s influence is seen so often at the forefront of research and practical application, not least in agriculture and building design. His model farm at Windsor, for instance, and nearly all the buildings at Balmoral improved the use of space and integrated more efficient use and better distribution of water. My father was impressed by Prince Albert’s approach to forward-thinking and sustainable developments and has added his own understanding to encourage others to build on the knowledge of their predecessors. The Royal Commission of 1851 was set up by the Prince Consort after the Great Exhibition to build on its success of creativity, innovation and trade. When my father was its president, he oversaw an extraordinary investment in talent across the whole spectrum of research, including the science and practice of agriculture and sustainable land use. I now have the privilege of being its president, which also reminds me of the wealth of knowledge that I have been exposed to throughout my life and the part my family has played in growing that knowledge.

Prince Philip has added his own unique talents by being very well briefed, then engaging and bringing together all interests that are part of the countryside. He is a very hard act to follow, but I’m grateful for the time he gave us and the example he set us.

It is only later in life that you realise how much you have been exposed to and how much you have absorbed from your early years. We were taught to observe and question, to be open minded, to understand differences, to treat every person as an individual with their own skills and to remember there is very little that is completely new under the sun. We are where we are because our ancestors not only survived by living off the land, water and air, but also innovated ways of doing so more easily and successfully; so successfully that a shortage of food seems a distant threat for much of the western world. However, although we may be growing more, the access to and distribution of good-quality foods is still a challenge.

We are living through a real global pandemic that is affecting literally every person’s life in some way, even if they and their countries have barely suffered directly from Covid-19. The effect on global food supplies through the restrictions on transport and logistics (see page 124) should raise our awareness of the vulnerability of the modern—just in time—demand-and-supply approach and highlight the strengths of local production and markets. Change will require all land users to work even more closely together to understand the most appropriate and least damaging way to increase production of crops and livestock that best suit our ground conditions and weather. It also means finding the right space and access for those who wish to enjoy the non-producing areas.

The restrictions that Covid-19 has placed on the entire population have accentuated the pressure between town and country. However, it has also shown that, thanks to historic houses, caravan parks, national parks, forestry enterprises, riding and cycling trails, rambling routes and assorted types of accommodation, access was quite well catered for already as an important contributor to the rural economy. The pandemic has highlighted the number of people and jobs that are crucial to that economy, too, be it the hospitality sector, conservation projects or the farming sector, such as the harvesting of many crops, fruit and vegetables and the care of livestock, especially sheep-shearing. Those jobs are still hard physical work that also need skills to achieve the standards that the buying public expect.

Technology is already making an impact in these areas and will make a bigger impact as the innovators and practitioners work out what is adding value and efficiency, without doing any more damage to the environment. Education and training play a big part in the shared understanding, success and enjoyment of the countryside. Our knowledge is derived from experience, evaluation and development and we need that information to be readily available. The royal agricultural societies, the county agricultural shows and societies (see page 120) —which are often the gatekeepers to public enquiry and understanding—the further-education colleges and universities that still maintain links with the rural economy (see page 128) and the people who live and work in the countryside are more important than ever, especially as there is no such thing as an unskilled job.

Research has made progress, but single-issue research must never lose sight of the overall subject. I mean that, for instance, one type of crop, with very specific qualities, may not be the best crop for every environment. Nature’s ability to adapt is, on the whole, better than humans or, indeed, computer-model-driven versions. How do we combine the best of both, the single-issue expertise and the need for a holistic view? Hopefully, by recognising that practitioners, residents and consumers can all access accurate information, education and training so that they can contribute to the debate and the research on best practice for the countryside.

How do I define best practice? Understanding how to work better with local conditions and working with Nature, which could be by using very traditional methods. Yet also using technology to support farming and related jobs, as well as extending the employment opportunities to those who would rather stay in the countryside. Not everybody does, which is just as well, as there is already a shortage of affordable houses in most areas (see page 118).

One of my pleas for best practice is quality, appropriate housing of the right type and the right numbers in the right places. Housing for local families that are priced out of the market; for young, single people who would like to stay and work in their home village or area; young families; and retired people who were born in the village and would like to return home. All of them could make the difference to having a viable school, shop or pub in the village. Importantly, these housing developments should be small and remain in the control of the local parish council, either for rent or shared ownership—preferably small because of two other best-practice issues: waste and energy.

Waste—produced by humanity and the way it chooses to live—that is not dealt with appropriately is up there with not understanding the value of small housing developments built to last as a major irritation to me! If you want to help the planet, controlling our waste is something everyone can do and it will make a difference. We will always produce waste, however efficient we become, so we must get better at reducing it at every stage and dealing with it better at the end. That means making things such as clothes, furniture, vehicles and supermarket trolleys that can be recycled safely and economically and not dumped on someone else’s ground. Did I mention that fly-tipping is another major irritation to me?

There are some perfectly good waste and recycling systems out there already, including anaerobic digesters and waste-to-energy plants. I would hope we can be more innovative and local in the way we deal with our rubbish to encourage everybody that it is worth making the effort to put waste in the right places, recycle more and have the confidence that it will make a difference.

Everything about life today seems to be about convenience and waste is seen as inconvenient; we must help make it more convenient to deal with. Raising the profile of the country code might help, especially as the post-coronavirus getaway to the country seems to have resulted in an increase of littering and vandalism.

Reliable energy supplies are critical to everybody and renewable energy created by innovative and local solutions will be a crucial part of the networks. Rural areas could be even more self-sufficient, especially if much of the equipment is to be electric. Replacing fossil-fuel generators has not been easy, but covering the countryside in solar panels and windmills isn’t really the answer, either. Using water better, using waste from crops, using waste from woodlands and the ability to store energy, possibly as hydrogen, can all help, but will require a more flexible grid and, therefore, the technology to make that work. Small nuclear reactors could have their place, but perhaps there is not the space to pursue that now.

In order to make rural life less isolated, even 5G coverage will not solve the problem of transport for farmers, shops, schools, pubs and the people who want to live and work in or from the rural environment. You need logistics to travel, to distribute, to deliver and to collect. Many businesses, good ideas and ambitions have failed because there are too few of any of the above and they are too expensive.

The need for appropriate vehicles and qualified drivers has not made it any easier to service the rural areas. I gained my HGV licence in 1974 after, I think, a two-hour test, all driving, starting with the handling test, which meant that, if you touched a cone, you were unlikely to pass. Then you spent the rest of the time driving—in my case, mostly in Reading. There was no theory test and, in relative terms, it didn’t cost very much. Now, it is a serious commitment in terms of time and money, which has resulted in a real shortage of HGV drivers. This, and the requirement for qualifications for nearly every other sort of vehicle, has made it even more difficult to maintain services. The needs of the rural communities during the coronavirus lockdown has underlined the importance of those people and their roles. We would do well to build on that experience.

I have lived at Gatcombe for more than 42 years (see page 80). We were not looking for a farm, but it has been a real privilege to try to work with what we have. Ours is an organic, extensive grass enterprise, usually complicated by running the horse-trial championships in early August. The woodland is a real mix of trees—mostly beeches, but huge numbers of ash of all ages. Who knows how many will survive, but I feel the naturally selected mix could be an important part of the answer.

Perhaps mix is the key. I write as a classic ‘Jack of all trades’, who has the opportunity to listen and engage with the masters of their subjects. Does the little knowledge I pick up make me dangerous or well informed?

Well, some of my information comes from COUNTRY LIFE , a publication that continues to reflect and promote all aspects of rural existence. This week’s edition has generously reflected some of my interests and those of people I believe are making a real difference. I hope the edition will leave you positively optimistic about our country’s country life.

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time is a social construct pt. 24

Mandalorian Time Travel AU

Summary: Din is trying his best, ok? But between trying to find a teacher for his magic kid and learning there were other Mandalorians who follow a different creed, Din is very confused and lost. So when he ends up on a plant that his HUD says is Manda’yaim and encounters two teens on the run from a group of dar’mandas called Death Watch, Din figures he may as well help them. He never meant to adopt them. Or become Mand’alor.

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            Din froze. He wasn’t proud to admit it, but in all fairness, he was never trained to deal with terrorist situations. So freezing was a valid reaction.

            Fortunately, Obi-wan reacted better than Din. The Jetii grabbed Din’s arm and pulled him along. Din followed, mind still reeling. Shoots at them finally broke Din’s stupor- getting shot at was a situation he could deal with. Din activated his jetpack and flew into the Kry’tsad soldier. They grappled in the air until Din could stab his vibroblade into their unprotected side. They fell, and Din flew back to Obi-wan. The Padawan was running, yelling into his comm, and blocking blaster shots at him with his lightsaber. Din landed and helped fight off the Kyr’tsad.

            “They’re storming the palace,” Obi-wan yelled. “Master Dooku is defending it with the Haat Mando’ade. Masters Jinn and Yoda are going after the Sith.”

            “Satine?” Din asked as he sent his whistling birds into three Kry’tsad that were heading towards a New Mandalorian family cowering in an alleyway. They fell, and Din yelled, “Get inside!” to the family.

            “Can’t get ahold of them,” Obi-wan said as he jumped up, landing on the back of a Kry’tsad that flew above them. He stabbed into their back, jumped back down, and finished, “But I can still feel Grogu in the Force, so I think they’re alive.”

            Din grunted in response, feeling the relief that mixed with his worry. The two of them worked through the streets, fighting Kyr’tsad. They reached a crossroads, and Obi-wan's head snapped to the left.

            “Master Jinn is over there,” he said. The problem was that the palace was to the right.

            “Go,” Din ordered. “I’ll go to the palace.” Obi-wan hesitated. “Go!”

            “K’oyacyi,” Obi-wan demanded gravely.

            “Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur,” Din responded before running away from his ad. All his instincts demanded that he stay with Obi-wan, protect him, and find his other ade. But Din knew that he would be the most help fighting the Kyr’tsad. Despite not dying earlier, Din wasn’t the best choice to fight a Sith, even a gangly teen one. The sooner Din could end the fighting, the sooner his ade would be safe.

            Din hitched a ride with a group of Haat Mando’ade riding speeders to the palace. Just before they entered the chaos, Din received a ping on his comm.

            Safe , the message from Jango read. I’m going to the palace .

            See you there , Din sent back. Din followed the other Mandalorians of his group that weren’t driving and jumped off the back of the speeders. Din didn’t make it far. He was slammed to the side by someone, and they grappled as they fell to the ground rapidly. Din turned them in the air so a Mandalorian in red and brown armor could shoot the soldier off Din. Din returned the favor and shot the soldier coming up from behind the other Mando.

            Din fell into the familiar movements of battle as he moved toward the center of the palace. The halls were wrecked- tapestries cut and ancient vases smashed. Din forced himself to ignore the bodies- Kyr’tsad, Haat Mando’ade, and New Mandalorians littered the halls. Din thought there was some sort of poetic irony in it- three groups of people, all claiming Mandalorians, all with different views, joined together in death. Death- the only impartial force in the galaxy as far as Din was concerned. Din was glad that his helmet blocked most of the smell. He was certain the hallways were steeped in the scent of blood and viscera.

            Din recognized some of the beskar’game, the Wren and Skirata clans, and some of the faces. In a doorway, slumped over with a knife in her slack fingers, Din saw Ashon, the first of Satine’s advisors who asked Din for advice. The girl who cared fiercely about education. The girl who’d shyly shown up to a meeting yesterday with a pink vambrace. She was dead. And judging by the dead Kry’tsad at her feet, knife wound in their side, she’d broken her vow of pacifism. Din paused; no one was alive in the hallway, so he took a moment to close the girl’s eyes.

            “Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la.”

            Din was decidedly more aggressive from there on. Verde moved out of his way as he tore his way through the halls. He made a pitstop in his room to grab his spear. It would be much more effective than his vibroblade against any dar’jetii. At one point, in an empty hallway, Din was jumped by two Kry’tsad. One of them was shot by an ally he couldn’t see. When din killed the other one, Din turned to see little Ursa standing in a doorway with a blaster in her hands. The girl looked grim, and Din saw behind her. There, huddled in a corner, were the kids of the various dignities and advisors. The Haat Mando’ade children had various weapons in their grips, standing between the New Mandalorians and the door.

            “Vor’e,” Din thanked. “Are you all ok?”

            “Yes,” Ursa said with a nod. “My mother is in the throne room. That’s where Death Watch is congregating. The Jedi is with her.” Din nodded, but before he would continue, Ursa threw something at him. “Bacta,” she said and nodded at Din’s injured thigh. With the adrenaline of the fight, Din had forgotten all about his burn from the dar’jetii’s lightsaber. Din nodded his thanks and sprayed the cool bacta on his wound. It stung, but Din could also feel the relief of the wound being healed. Din went to give the bacta back, but Ursa insisted he keep it.

            Din finally continued towards the throne room. As he got closer, more bodies had saber marks and holes. He could hear the faint hum of a lightsaber.

            “Din!” someone shouted. Din turned and saw Jango grappling with a Kry’tsad. He stabbed them and pushed them to the side. Din clasped Jango’s shoulder. “I left them with a Haat Mando’ade family, holed up in a safe spot.”

            “Good job.” Din nodded towards the hall the throne room was down. “Shall we?”

            Jango nodded, and they ran down the hall. The ornate doors to the throne room were thrown open, and one was hanging half off its hinges. Blaster fire had erupted in the small room. The elaborate windows were busted open, with Kry’stad clustered around their remains. There were maybe 30 Kry’tsad standing between Din and the Haat Mandoade fighting back on the other side of the room. New Mandalorian guards were using their shields to shield the Haat Mando’ade so they could shoot back at Kry’tsad. Din could see Ursa and Dooku still up, standing back to back as they defended the throne.

            “Where’s Vizsla? Jango asked as he scanned the crowd. No one had noticed them yet. Kry’tsad looked all the same to Din, but apparently, Jango could pick Vizsla out of a crowd.

            Their luck didn’t last, and soon they were ducking behind fallen pedestals as they fought back. Din and Jango weren’t in the throne room, so they didn’t see the new figure fly through the broken windows. At least they didn’t until they shouted, “Fett! Come out here and face me like a man!”

            Jango hissed, and the blaster fired stopped. An uneasy silence fell as Jango slowly stood up. Din followed and saw the newcomer. They were nearly indistinguishable, except for their black cape. And, you know, the pitch-black lightsaber they had pointed at Jango in a challenge. The Darksaber, wielded by Pre Vizsla, is Din had to guess. The dar’manda leader of Death Watch, the son of the man who killed Jango’s buir, and Paz Viszla’s relative. The man was laughably small compared to Paz; Din didn’t think laughing was appropriate for this situation.

            “Vizsla,” Jango hissed. “Finally decided to give up?”

            Vizsla laughed an ugly noise. And removed his helmet with his free hand. There was a sneer on his face. “I am here to once and for all prove Clan Vizsla’s claim to Mand’alor. Just as my father killed yours, I will kill you!”

            Jango snarled but didn’t throw himself into the fight. Something was holding him back. There was something in the air Din couldn’t name. A crackling power, like the air before a lightning strike. It spoke to sudden change. This was the moment everything could change.

            This is why I’m here . The realization came to Din abruptly. Din had no idea how he knew it, but it settled with a sense of certainty deep in his soul. This is why I’m here; this is how I can change the future for the better .

            Without thinking about it further- ignoring the screaming doubt in the back of his mind- Din stepped forward. Attention snapped to him, and Vizsla’s eyes narrowed at him.

            “You? The ver’gebuir of the so-called Duchess Satine?” Vizsla laughed again. Again, not really the situation for it. The man continued, still yelling, “You are a nameless, clanless, nobody. Do you think you could beat me, Pre Vizsla? That you have any right to Mand’alor?”

            Din didn’t respond immediately. He unstrapped his spear as he stared down Vizsla. The man began to look uncomfortable as the silence stretched on. Finally, Din said, not shouting like Vizsla was, “More than you. Dar’manda.”

            Vizsla snarled. Before the man could lunge, Countess Wren stepped forward. “If you fight for the throne, it shall be done properly, so there is no more confusion about who is the true Mand’alor.”

            “Fine,” Vizsla spat after none of his soldiers disagreed. Countess Wren nodded sharply. In a swift movement, the Mandalorians in the room stepped back. They formed a ring around Vizsla, leaving an opening for Din to walk through. Din could make out Silas gesturing for Dooku to leave. This wasn’t an event for Jetii.

            Jango grabbed Din’s elbow. “Are you sure about this?”

            “An hour ago, you were trying to convince people I’d be a good Mand’alor,” Din reminded him. “You don’t want to, and I don’t think anyone else here will step up.”

            Din couldn’t see Jango’s face or read what was running through the man’s mind. But Jango loosened his grip and let Din step forward. Jango raised his voice so the rest of the room could hear him, “I will gladly fight beside you when you are Mand’alor.”

            With that settled, the Haat Mando’ade in the room turned to Din in support. With the man they considered the rightful Mand’alor stating his support for Din, they would pledge loyalty to him. Din

            “ Who claims the right to Mand’alor?” Countess Wren asked.”

            “I am Pre Vizsla, House Vizsla, Clan Vizsla, ” Vizsla said, looking proud at his name. “Wielder of the Darksaber .”

            “And who challenges him?”

            This was it. Din could back out, claim a moment of temporary insanity, and give his spear to Jango to let the man fight. Din could remain Satine’s bodyguard and live his life trying to subtly change the future while raising his kids. He didn’t have to do this.

            Din stepped forward and into the circle. Jango followed him and closed the circle. Din clanged his spear against the ground.

            “I am Din Djarin. And I challenge Pre Vizsla for the Darksaber and title of Mand’alor.”

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Mando'a translations: K’oyacyi: Stay alive Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur: Today is a good day for someone else to die

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[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: I Want to Be Leaves (Fall Fics)

**Credit to LilyDaleXF’s yearly reblog meme** 

Time for fall fics! Apples, markets, changing colors, spicy scents, snappy weather-- and FBI agents sporting layered sweaters and cozy feelings. 

May the Fictober season bring upon us more fall fics. All hail the fall fics!

(**Edit: Correcting many, MANY mistakes. And adding more fic!**) 

Pattie’s Absconded  

““Blow your stack, Scully. But the accounts here of power drainage, water suddenly leaving pools, ponds and reservoirs in 'beams' are all consistent with some sort of aircraft performing some act perhaps you haven't seen, but those people have." He handed another stack of folders to his partner. "Keep reading. And look at the pictures, too. The reports with pictures are always more fun to read. After sunset, we're going out to watch the night sky.””

Early S1 kicks off fall vibes with Scully less-than-enthusiastically helping Mulder investigate a power plant where multiple workers have been seeing UFOs. 

Kelly Keil’s (FFN) Only Apples (FFN)

““When he picks her up, she asks again about their destination but he remains mute.  With resignation she joins him in the car, prepared for a long journey.

Mulder drives the car further and further from civilization, whistling tunelessly through his teeth.  Scully sits beside him, thinking how much she dislikes surprises.  Neither speaks. 

 As the miles fly by, she fingers her old flannel shirt and stares down at her worn boots.  Brilliant red and gold trees flash by her window and geese fly south for winter against a vivid blue sky.””  

Scully has lost sight of life in the drudgery of the mission. Mulder surprises her with a trip to an autumn orchard, reawakening her passion. 

Tinysmolfluff’s Autumn Coffee

““Can we go for a walk? – he asked quietly and she was about to protest that it’s freezing outside, but there was something vulnerable in his eyes, something urgent, so she just nodded and they left the café. They walked away from it, the dry leaves crunching under their shoes, the cold fall air picking at their faces.””  

Set after Redux II, Scully is woken up by Mulder, who wants to see her. Both are still vulnerable after her close shave with death. 

@mchalowitz​’s (Ao3)  Free Falling from Branches 

““That, over there,” he says, holding out his cup. He nods toward a tree in the distance. “Is that not a perfect, untouched pile of leaves?””

Mulder dumps he and Scully in a leaf pile. Scully loves him but doesn’t make a move... yet. 

@wexleresque/hllsteeth’s do you think I’m spooky? 

““Scully pauses, thinking. “It’s interesting how nature can make death seem so elegant,””

Scully ponders on death; and both she and Mulder vow (in their own ways) not to leave the other behind. 

Erin M. Blair’s Autumn Falls 

““She turned to face Mulder, still holding the leaf in her hand. "Mulder," she asked, not yet willing to look at him fully. "Do you remember what you said a few years ago...about how things were going to change for us?”" 

AU after The End-- Mulder and Scully observe the fall leaves soon after the burning of their office. Scully recalls his words at the end of Tooms, and both reflect that these changes can be good, too. 

@baronessblixen’s (Ao3)

The Sweetest Taste 

““They’re quiet, comfortably so, listening to the sound of leaves crunching under their boots. A few new ones fall to the ground, the trees bidding them goodbye.

“It’s beautiful,” Scully says, her voice as magical as the colorful foliage.”“

Mulder takes Scully to Farmer’s Market while gazing. He makes the first move after apple eating, leaf watching, and companionable shopping. 

A Day As Sweet As Pie (Ao3)  

““I'm in charge of the eggs," William says, pointing at the carton. He's been watching them like a hawk for days, afraid Mulder would use them to make scrambled eggs. That happened last week and William has vowed to never let the eggs out of his sight again.

"You are, egg man," Mulder says and the boy giggles.””

Will is SO excited to make Maggie’s pumpkin pie recipe for her; and his parents help him make up the recipe and keep his impatience at bay. 

@skylandmountain1013’s (Ao3) Seasons

““Without warning, Mulder scoops up a pile of leaves and tosses them in her direction. They smell like dirt and rain and crunch as they fall around her feet. Three stick in her hair like a makeshift crown.””

Mulder invites Scully out to fall festival to highlight the new shift in their relationship. Short fluff ensues.

@astridncs’s (Ao3) Lunch Date (Ao3)

““They bought food from the little deli that was near their office. A quaint little place that sold really good sandwiches and salads, and sweet potato pie that has Mulder buy two slices of. He insists the other one isn't for him, but Scully knows better.””

Scully pouts until Mulder agrees to enjoy the outside fall weather. He lends her his coat, and cheekily sets up date (even though they’re already dating.) 

@debbierhea/theexfilesbabe/iamalittleonedge’s

Unnamed

““Hey,” he says, and pulls back to look at her. “You okay? I asked what the plan is, G-woman.” She nods conservatively but her eyes give away her excitement.

“Apple picking, G-man.””

Early into their new relationship, Scully is excited to wake Mulder early to go apple picking. Both enjoy teasing each other and pouting playfully.

Unnamed

““The moment she walked up the steps and took a deep breath, turned to him and said, “It’s perfect,” was the moment he realized just how much time they had spent being upset and stressed. She looked ten years younger that day, with a braid hanging over her shoulder.””

Pre-IWTB-- Mulder watches Scully happily sinking into their new domesticity.

@msrafterdark’s (Ao3) Sugar

““He catches the blissful aroma of home as soon as he walks in her door: sugar and cinnamon and vanilla. He had wondered why she’d be calling him in the middle of a Sunday afternoon with a voice of purpose requesting he drop by.””

Scully invites Mulder over for cookies. Both are touched by their first, intentional exchanges of love. 

Red’s Autumn 

““As the light faded, the air grew colder and the hairs on her arms stood up, goosepimples disturbing the smoothness of her pale skin.  A cool breeze bothered a cluster of leaves near her feet, tossing them carelessly around her for several long seconds.  Her shadow slowly blended into the grey shadows of the evening, the waning moon gradually rising in the sky and bathing her in milky-white light.””

Set Season 8-- Scully stares at the stars, alone, wondering where Mulder is. 

A Baroness Blixen lovely anon 

““But Will seems happy with his snails. He shows one to his parents and declare « this one a boy. His name is Will. »””

William and his parents enjoying fall and snails. As they should. 

@juniperphoenix’s (Ao3) Autumnal (Ao3) 

““Charlie and I used to play in leaf piles when we were little. We pretended we could swim in them.” A pile this size would have seemed an ocean. “Did you ever do that?”

“No, but I used to hide under the leaves so I could spy on people.””

Mulder pounces, buries Scully in leaf pile. Autumn is Scully’s favorite season; and both share their childhood memories. 

@avocadoave’s (Ao3) Pumpkin Guts and Other Stuff (Ao3)

““You want to tell me what’s going on?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“Mulder, your arms have taken on an orangeish hue from cleaning out so many pumpkins. When I took the garbage out last night there were, I don’t know, 12 mangled ones in the can.”” 

Set sometime IWTB-- Mulder uses pumpkins to plan his surprise proposal. 

@monikafilefan’s (Ao3)

Language of Love - Chapter 13 

““You cheated, Mulder. Even so, you’re warm so I’ll let it go.””

Post Revival-- Scully unable to dodge Mulder’s “gotcha”; but is still rewarded with wonderful foot rubs. 

Unnamed Prompt 

““I know you’d laugh at me and tell me, ‘Dana you should know by now my spirit is not with my body.” But you know me, having a tangible place to visit and talk to you brings me comfort when I really need you. And this time I don’t need my sister to unload my burdens on, this time I want to tell you only good news in person. Today’s a special day.”

She reached out, running her finger along each letter to spell out the word, Melissa.”” 

Scully visits Melissa’s grave to update her on life and the birth of her daughter. Mulder stealth-surprises her with their napping baby. 

@lotsoforangesoutside’s The Season of the Soul

““So, though in his childhood and into his early adulthood, autumn was often defined by that one thing which shaped his personality and his quest, it had been redeemed.”” 

Mulder’s enjoyment of autumn-- like many things in his life-- was destroyed by the losses he’d received; but having Scully, and now his daughter, to experience it anew reignites his fondness. 

ImWatchingTheMagician’s Pumpkin 

““Hey hey little bear” Mulder scoops the girl up, before she can release her –almost- 2 year old destructive behavior on Siegel’s pumpkins.””

Mulder and Scully’s have to head-off their precocious toddler from running rampant through a pumpkin patch because of the lofty glare of its farmer. 

Enjoy! 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty Two.

Huge thanks to those of you leaving me your lovely feedback! This is a monster of a chapter, one I did consider splitting into a part one and two, but decided against it. You’ll see why. 

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight  Twenty Nine  Thirty  Thirty One

Words - 6,715

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Ursula's POV

It isn't him. All this time I've had it pegged on the vampire I'm walking toward the front door with, and it isn't him. I heard what my creator said after I left, and I also felt it in her. I believe her, and I trust her. If she says he's not responsible then I take that as gospel. I'm not even going to mention that I did previously think he was involved right from the start, I do not want to irritate him further than he already has been by being called away from his home so close to dawn, by a Dawn. I now see I need him on my side, and as the Chief of Nevada he has a lot more weight behind any investigating into this. Suddenly, I feel a lot more at ease. Of course, he's going to want to dismantle this, this treachery within his organisation.

"I need to be brought up to speed on everything that's been going on up until now. Arrive at my office at 8pm tomorrow, so we've an hour to discuss this before we begin questioning Dawn. We will unravel her, and if we don't then she will meet her final death. If only she'd become a creator, had an offspring I could have used against her. Oh well. Until Tomorrow, Ursula." Elias nods curtly, heading out to a black Mercedes, which I can tell you must have cost an absolute fortune to import, since the Mercedes-Benz plant hasn't gone global with sales yet after only resuming manufacturing ten years ago. They only have showrooms and dealers across Europe at present. One of the armed guards opens the door, getting in after him. The car moves off swiftly after that, the second car that arrived here containing Dawn following along soon after.

I watch them head off up the street, walking down the path to my front gate and shaking my head slightly. What revelations have been aired tonight, what surprises. Of course, I have not forgotten the first of the evening, with the appearance of the friend of my sons, whom both thought was dead and he them as well. At least that surprise was a welcome one. What a night this has been, what a night indeed. Before I've even felt the need for him properly rise up, I sense my darling Charles behind me, and turn to happily sink into his embrace. My husband, my best friend, my strength, my solace, my all and so much more. Thank goodness I have the support of my beloved family during this time.

"How do you feel about all of this now?" he asks as I rest my head against his chest.

"I feel reassured in a way, knowing that since this isn't coming from Elias. I now have him on my side, and he's a powerful ally. At the same time though I'm conflicted, because now I have no clue at who is behind this. Dawn isn't clever enough to orchestrate something like this by herself, so who the hell else is involved?" I question in bewilderment, hearing someone leaving the house, turning to see my dear Sissy.

"We shall find out, for sure. The end is within our grasp now, now we know the Chief is out of the picture. You know how Elias hates disorder within the organisation, and he has the weight to put a hell of a lot more ears to the ground. Especially since you've been doing all this on the quiet, under his radar," she reassures, while Charles nods in agreement.

"I had chosen very similar words myself, Sissy. Until we see you again, and may I thank you once more for your discovery this evening. I am truly appreciative of your efforts," he thanks her with warmly, while I turn to kiss her cheek. I'm not overly affectionate with my vampire friends, but I love her greatly. She's an exception.

"You're most welcome, both of you. You know where I am if you need me." she replies, to both of us and then just me, squeezing my arm and then leaving at speed. We turn towards the back door, the wolves appearing from around the back through the gate I go and shut before we all enter the house. I find Edie and Angel on their way up to bed, and bid them goodbye before returning to the kitchen, and my creator. My brother of sorts has also retired to his allotted room at the very top of the house, the attic conversion to be precise. He's right over Angel's room, and by the sounds of it is about to be treated to the sound of him and Edie having sex as well. If it wasn't for the healing properties of vampire blood, that poor girl wouldn't be able to stand, let alone walk, with the regularity she has my son on her.

"That offspring of yours, he's got some libido, hasn’t he? Sex just seems to ooze off of him," Constance states, looking at me curiously.

"He's also faithful to the young human girl you did your best to ignore. Her name is Edie, and she is part of this family," I reply cordially. I'd perhaps let any other vampire know that in no uncertain terms, but with my creator I of course use gentle suggestion rather than force. I have the highest respect for her, now. Now I do, but when I was turned and she abandoned me to live as a wild vampire soon after, I definitely didn't respect her. I hated her.  

What she did, it was like the equivalent of a human woman leaving their newborn baby on the side of the road, alone to fend for itself. I depleted the population of Galway because I didn't know when to stop feeding, and drained each person I fed on dry. That was until the people of the village I lived in tried to find me, and I fled the area for a long, long time. I went back with Angel years and years ago, to show him where I’d come from, but it no longer felt like home. I guess too many centuries have gone by for it to have that feeling of nostalgia upon me any longer. My happiness, my family, they're right here with me in Las Vegas. This is home, and it has been for decades now.

"Ahh, I see. I shall put my eyes back in my head, then," she smirks, sitting down at the table and giving me a knowing wink.

"He's a good-looking young vampire, I agree with you there. He's very much attached to the gorgeous creature he's currently fucking a new hole through, though," I explain, this time actually making her laugh. I like to hear that, her laughter. She only does it when she's around a vampire or vampires she's comfortable with.

"I did suspect it could have been her behind this at first, but the way I see her so at ease with you all, I'm no longer suspicious over the girl," she reveals, while I have to internally scoff a little at such an idea. Edie? Hah! Does she not think I could have deduced that for myself, if my dearest Edie were responsible?

"That's almost as ludicrous as suspecting Charles or EZ, but no matter, I know how thorough you are. Still though, I cannot shake the notion that this must be coming from someone I know, and someone I trust," I tell my creator, watching her looking thoughtful.

She straightens, taking a strand of hair and twirling it around her finger. "I do not want to say anything further on the matter until the questioning of that pathetic excuse for a vampire has begun. I think we have dissected and discussed this to death for the evening, Ursula. I'm going to head up to bed. Until the evening, my child." Rising from her seat, she presses her hand to my shoulder, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Eventually I find I am much too irritated by them, though, so switch myself off for a time, not wanting to think about anything and retreating into my state of deadness. My senses rouse me from this just before dawn, and as the shutters are coming down over all of our windows, I trudge up to bed.

"Kids." I mutter to myself with a little smile when I walk past Angel's room, the noises emanating utterly feral. If there was an Olympic event for sex, he'd win the gold every time. They're still going at it and probably will be past the dawn too, just like I did the other morning with Ahmed. I enjoyed him greatly, and I plan on enjoying him again too in the not-so-distant future.  

The only man I want to enjoy right now is feeling my husband next to me, and so after entering my bedroom and stripping off my clothes, that's just what I climb in bed to enjoy. He has other ideas on his mind, and I cannot say I'm unwelcoming to any of them either. Looks like Angel won't be the only one forcing himself to stay awake after the dawn.

When the sun sets in the sky the next evening, I am up out of bed like a shot and into the shower, giving my hair a good washing to remove the build-up of styling products before I go and put them all back in again to help keep the curl in my hair. I use hot tongs to give my naturally poker straight locks a bit more body, spraying each section in a little hairspray before wrapping it around the curling iron barrel. I then put my makeup on and get dressed, all ready to leave for work early.  

I go downstairs to find Charles and kiss him goodbye, and then ask Maggie if she can begin taking down our curtains ready to go to the dry cleaners. Obviously, we can't do all of them at once or the dry-cleaning people would have a fit, but we can start on the ones in the hallway and Charles' sitting room at least. Opening the front door ready to leave my house, I see a very fancy town car waiting outside, a chauffeur I recognise from the AVA standing with it.

"At the request of Chief Weston for your safety, Mrs Ó Cléirigh-Cosgrove," he tells me as he opens the door for me. Wow, Elias is taking this seriously then, even though at my age I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, I still do not snub his offer. When I arrive at work I go straight to Elias's office after dropping my belongings off in mine, and then spend the best part of an hour explaining everything to him, but of course omitting the part where I and other members of my family pointed the finger of blame firmly at him. Instead, I tell him I kept my investigation under the radar for the sake and the good name of the AVA, not wanting to throw any possible bad light upon our organisation that sniffing out a traitor in our midst would have resulted in, had I kicked up a noisy fuss.

"I must begin in confessing that I, just like you, am at a total loss as to know who on earth is behind this debacle. You're respected and well liked, and to be honest I do have a horrible feeling about this. I have a gnawing sense that the vampire who is ultimately behind it is going to be the last one we suspect, so you, your husband and your offspring respectively must all be on your guard. I'm currently awaiting the team who went to do a complete sweep of Dawn's home to arrive back with any possible findings or evidence, so once I have that information and have digested it, we shall proceed to the questioning rooms. She's been brought up out of the cells for the evening and given a feed, but until I know what I'm truly dealing with, she will have to wait," Elias shares, while I nod in understanding.

He tells me I am free to continue my work until that point in time, and I leave his office to go back to mine. Before I do go and seclude myself behind my desk, I head to the donor bar first, where I find my favourite feed Maxine there, ready and waiting. Donor bars as they are called are found in all workplaces with a vampire staff within, and the people provide us with our life source for a very good salary. Maxine is my favourite blood type, and British, which I confess to be very partial to. They have sweet blood, the Brits.  

I then have to get back to work, putting everything relating to Dawn and her impending questioning to the back of my mind as I begin to read over applications for vampires wishing to enter the teaching sector. A further hour passes before I'm called back to Elias's office again, this time with a few other more prominent members of our organisation present too.

"The search of Dawn Cavendish's home is complete, and after such meticulous sweeping of the property, well, I certainly have news. I regret to inform you all that she was an active and affiliated member of the TVM, for how long I do not know. I doubt she infiltrated us from the beginning though, I suspect she was talked into this, targeted by a member outside of our organisation, even though I strongly suspect there are more TVM members secretly lurking within our ranks. We will present her with this information, and make her talk over any other names than the couple we've found so far. Those vampires are being arrested and then detained as suspects as I speak," he announces to us, while I feel my eyes widen slightly. Dawn is an affiliated member of the TVM, not just a little dogsbody? Good grief.  

Each of us share our opinion on the situation, before myself, Elias and Penelope Stroud all head down as a three to the interview room Dawn is waiting in. Penelope is a professional interrogator, she did it as a human and she still continues to do so as a vampire, and she does a magnificent job, too. She could get blood from a stone. Unfortunately though, her techniques do not work at all on Dawn, who remains silent completely for the first four and a half hours. By 2.30am, after Pen (as we call her for short) has exhausted all avenues and approaches, the interrogated vampire finally speaks.

"I would rather die than expose our leader. This is how loyal I am to him, and for the power he has given me within our movement. I am his second in command, and as I say I would rather die than give up his name. So kill me," she spits defiantly.

"Do you honestly think now you've confessed your status within the TVM to us that I'm actually going to let you off that easily? As second in command to a renegade, peace disturbing and socialisation opposing organisation, you're being put on trial, as will the rest of your sorry assed band when I find them, too. I do not take kindly to traitors, and until you tell me who is at the head of this operation, I shall have liquid silver dripped into your prised open eyes in two-minute intervals until you talk," Elias informs her, looking at her with steely hatred. The thought alone makes both Pen and I exchange an uneasy glance before we continue to stare at Dawn, who still looks confident in the face of all this.

"Such unpleasantness's to have to deal with, and what a turn out this is, the very people trying to accuse you of being TVM affiliated are all members themselves. I think this is just the start of what poses to be a much bigger plot against the AVA on the whole. I suspect a takeover bid here, trying to get our eldest out of the organisation since she's the biggest threat," Elias explains to me and Pen as we walk out of the interview room and back up from the bowels of the AVA building to the offices.

"I think you're correct in that assumption, Chief Weston." Pen replies before heading off to another interview room, where apparently someone whose name was found in amongst the rest of the evidence collected from Dawn's home is being held.

"Well, it is your time to leave for the evening, Ursula. I shall have Jake Sims bring a town car around to take you home at once," Elias tells me before excusing himself to answer his ringing cell and walking off back to his office, while I head to mine, collect my belongings and then leave. I duck in to see if Charles is ready to leave, and find he's left for home already. When I arrive downstairs, I see the car waiting for me, and hop in once Jake opens the door for me. He then speeds me away from the building towards home, yet home is not the first place I will get to before the night is out.  

As we're driving out of the main drag of Vegas, suddenly and without warning I feel Angel's temper and then fear rise so sharply, I actually gasp. Opening the electric window, I fly out of it without warning, heading to where I can feel him and his distress burning brightly. That place is the tattoo shop, where I stop outside of to see a van pulling away at speed, and Edie in hysterical tears on the sidewalk outside. Even though I know that van contains my son, I can feel he's in no immediate danger, and I cannot leave this young woman alone crying her eyes out. I can catch up with the van.

"Edie?" Seeing her quivers, I immediately embrace her.  

"They, they took him! AVA guards, they told him he was being arrested for TVM involvement, that his name had been found within the evidence gathered from Dawn Cavendish's home and then just hauled him out of here, and one of the guards elbowed me in the cheek when I refused to let him go and I think it's broken, but I don't care! I just want my boyfriend back! He hasn't done anything wrong!" she wails hysterically, all her usual cool composure melting by the second. My worry over where he's gone is stilled a little now I know he's been arrested by the AVA and will be going straight to a detaining cell, but my rage rises. How dare Elias do this without telling me, how dare he! This, well this could be a revenge plan by Dawn. She could have deliberately written down Angel's name to still discredit and exert revenge upon me.

"Then I will have him released again by the time the sun rises, we both know he's not involved in this and I will make Elias see that. Now, drink this to heal your cheek, and then let me drink from you. I want to form a blood tie with you, just in case you should ever be in danger in all of this. I feel it wise I know where you are and so I can pick up on your moods too. I shall then take you home and head out once more to challenge Elias on his capturing of my son," I tell her urgently and quickly, biting my wrist and letting her take some of my blood to heal her cheek (which is broken, I can tell) and then quickly drinking from her before picking her up and flying with her until we're home.

"Look after her. I'm going back to work. Fucking Elias has had Angel arrested!" I state with rage in my voice to Charles as soon as I arrive home. He opens his arms to a still extremely distressed Edie, the poor girl running to him for comfort immediately.

"He's done what? Upon what grounds has he been arrested?" he rages, folding his arms around Edie and stroking her head as she cries against his chest.

"TVM involvement, apparently his name was found amongst the evidence raised from the sweep of Dawn's home. Of course, that's a deliberate trick on her part, but Elias doesn't know that yet. Still, I'm furious at him, he had that list of names while I was there this evening, he damned well should have told me my own son was a suspect!" I fume, actually feeling my eyes brimming with tears.

"Hurry, go bring him home while I calm Edie." Charles urges me, kissing my head before I nod and leave at warp speed. I arrive back at the AVA headquarters within five minutes, and literally storm the office of Elias Weston.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me you were about to arrest Angel as a suspect? How dare you, Elias! How dare you let me go home thinking nothing was wrong only to haul him in, and have one of your guards break the cheekbone of his girlfriend too! This is the most unprofessional move you could have ever made! You could have consulted me on what was found, because his name was planted in the evidence collected from Dawn's home deliberately!" I vent at him, pressing both of my palms into his desk as I lean over it, screaming my words about three inches from his face.

In the wake of my yelling, he only looks confused. "Ursula, I am at a loss as to know what you are talking about. Your offspring's name was not found amongst the evidence, and I most certainly haven't had him arrested. You may go and check the cells yourself, he isn't here," he reveals, taking my outburst in his stride completely as something clicks in my head, my eyes widening in fear.

"Fuck!" I scream, before flying out of the building at speed and trying with everything I have in me to pick up on where my boy is. The AVA hasn't taken him, but I wouldn't put it past the TVM to have done this. This, I guess, is their last stand against me and my organisation, taking Angel from me. They'll use him for some sort of bargaining deal, no doubt, to make me surrender to them. I think Elias is right, I think they're trying to take us over. Well, they won't use my son for this. I will find him, and when I do my god, I'll rip the vampires who took him limb from limb and burn what is left of their remains.

Flying through the streets I try hard to pick up on his essence, feel and smell out his blood. I feel myself growing closer to him as I head right onto the fringes of Las Vegas, until suddenly I feel our connection slipping, the sparkle that is his life essence fading, and fading fast. No, no, no! I know what's happening to him, in the last few flickers of feeling his light within me starting to go out, I know what they're doing. I feel his pain and fear burning through him, him willing me to find him, calling out to me as they inject silver directly into his brain. This is the only way to knock out a vampire and make them untraceable to anyone with a blood tie to them, the silver effectively burning their brain so badly they pass out, unable to keep awake.

Stopping in the centre of the street as I feel his light now just a tiny spark, I scream my lungs out in despair as my tears fall from my eyes. They have him, they're hurting him, and I can't find him. As it turns out I'm not the only one who can feel it too, of course. When I return home reluctantly, I see a heart wrenching scene before me, EZ with his arms locked around a screaming, hysterical Edie, preventing her from leaving the house while he tries to calm her down. He'd have never have done that, cared enough about a human before to try and comfort them as he's trying to with Edie, who is absolutely frantic.

"I can't feel him, I can't feel him anymore! Ursula is... is he dead? Will I know if he's died?" she sobs, EZ letting her go so she can run to me. I wrap her in my arms immediately, her stress burning through me of course now we share a blood tie.

"No, he is still with us, my darling one. Shhhh, it's okay, I will find him, somehow I will return him home to us, where he belongs." I tell her, trying to keep her calm but failing. I'm failing because at this point in time, I myself am in a place that is far from calm, too.

Edie's POV

"What have they done to him, to make it so we can't feel him?" I ask Ursula as we sit in the kitchen and she pours me drink after drink to keep me calm. I only managed to work my way down from total hysteria ten minutes ago, and am still sitting here sniffing and sobbing. It was horrible, just horrible when they took him. He was closing up the tattoo shop, about to take me for a drink before we headed home, when the AVA descended upon us and arrested him as a TVM suspect. 'He hasn't done anything wrong, you can't take him!' I wailed as I clung onto his arm, only to be elbowed straight in the face and then have my boyfriend dragged away from me and cuffed in silver before they hauled him into a van.

"They will have done the vampire equivalent of knocking him out, which is to inject silver into his brain and cut out the blood ties he has with both of us. They've done this so it is impossible for me to find him through our tie alone, but I will find him. He will come home, Edie. I promise you. Also, I must tell you right now this wasn't the AVA, Elias knew nothing of the arrest and told me Angel's name was not found in the evidence. It is the TVM who have him," she reveals bitterly, reaching for my hands when she sees the panic in my face.

"They've done this to make you surrender to them, haven't they?" I ask, hating the fear I can hear in my own voice. I'm not ashamed to admit though, that I am frightened out of my mind. I just want my honey back by my side, and to be safe from harm and right now he is neither of those things. He is being harmed, and he is away from my side for the foreseeable.

"Yes, they have. If it comes to it, I will exchange my life for his. I've been on this planet for much longer, he is still a baby in vampire terms, and has many years ahead of him yet. I will make that sacrifice, I stand on my word that I would happily die for Angel," she states emphatically, gripping my hand tightly while I do the same thing. I don't want to lose either of them, and hope with my very soul that we can all get through this unscathed. I hope that's what will happen, that Angel will be found before it's either too late, or Ursula has to forsake herself for him.

"How are you going to find him, when you can't feel your way to him?" I then ask, not really wanting to comment on what she just told me. I don't even want to think of that, of her dying to save him, or the fallout of that which will no doubt be the AVA crumbling, since they're targeting the strongest vampire within their ranks.

She shakes her head, gulping hard. God, I’ve never seen her struggle for composure like this before, and it hits me in waves, the severity of it. "I must be honest with you, dear child, and confess that I do not know. I can only hope that the names connected to the TVM in the evidence gathered so far will shed some light on it, where he has been taken. Either that or wait for the TVM to make their demands known to me," she replies while pouring me another bourbon. "No, you stay in here." Gripping my forearm gently when I stand up with my cigarettes to go to the kitchen door for a smoke, she then gets up and fetches a saucer for me to use as a makeshift ashtray. We then share silence for a time, neither of us offering anything at all further to the conversation. I don't think there's anything else to be said, personally.

When the shutters come down over the windows a very tired looking Ursula heads to bed, leaving me with my Jim Beam in the kitchen, telling me it would be best if I rested, but that she understands if I cannot sleep. She's right; I couldn't sleep even if I tried. I sit at the kitchen table in a coma of sadness until 7am, just smoking and drinking until my slightly drunk self hauls ass upstairs and into bed. Just being able to smell Angel on the sheets though, it makes the tears start falling again. I hope I can cry myself to sleep, but it just doesn't work. I've had my love snatched from me, and there's nothing I can do about it. What I feel within me, our blood tie, it is but a flicker. I can't even tell if he's come round from being knocked out and is just sleeping or not. It's hard to concentrate now I have Ursula's blood within me too, even though I feel she’s asleep.

I make the firm resolution with myself to be strong, and not to descend into a blubbering mess. He'd want me to be strong for him, wherever he is and whoever is keeping him hostage. He'd be proud at my strength, so that is what I must be. I must be strong, and I must have the faith that he will return to me, to where he belongs. It's very much easier said than done, though. At somewhere around 11am I guess, I actually manage to fall asleep, but only until 3pm when my eyes fly open and for a minute, I think Angel's weight is denting the mattress. It's only Icarus, jumping up to curl up next to me and lick my arm. He looks right into my eyes, and then across to Angel's side of the bed before looking back at me with a whine.

"I don't know where he is, beautiful. I wish I did though." I tell him, watching him put his head down on my lap, that little soft whine continuing. I knew exactly what he was trying to convey to me. He wants to know where daddy is. Knowing that I should probably get up and run a few errands before work, like sorting my electricity bill for the quarter and wrapping up the last of my Christmas gifts for people, I try to find the energy to get out of bed, but fail. Instead, I just lie here and worry myself sick about Angel, where he is, what's happening to him, and how we're going to get him back.  

My heart keeps racing anxiously whenever I close my eyes, and see his gorgeous face there in my mind. Eventually though, I know I do have to get up, and at 5pm I finally rise and take a shower, getting myself ready quickly and dressing, heading downstairs with the wolves. I open the back door for them and they both sprint out off on their hunt for the night, yet just as I'm turning to head back inside after watching them for a few moments I'm joined by Icarus once more. He then proceeds to follow me at my heels when I go through to Ursula's sitting room to find her.

"She's locked in discussion with Constance, so we've been sent out. How are you feeling today?" EZ asks me when he opens the sitting room door and he and Coco both exit.

"Ahh, okay. I'll talk to her later when I'm back from work, unless she'd rather I stay at my house with all of this going on," I say in reply, watching EZ shaking his head.

"You're coming back here from work straight away, because none of us are naive enough to think you’re safe on your own. The TVM could well target you too, so until this mess is sorted, I shall be escorting you to and from work, and you'll remain here with us as well when you aren't there. Sorry to boss you around, but that's the way it has to be," he tells me, while I have to stop a lump from rising in my throat. EZ wouldn't do this if some small part of him didn't like me. He isn't bound by any duty, even if I am his brother's girlfriend. EZ works on his own terms, and I know for fact that these terms have come directly from his mind and mouth, and he hasn't been instructed to say this by either his creator or Ursula. It also seems that another member of the family is not keen on leaving my side either, since when we leave the house Icarus follows us, walking at my side.

"Thank you, for doing this for me," I tell EZ as we walk down the road.

"You still haven't answered my question about how you're feeling today," he replies, ignoring my thanks. I knew he would, he doesn't take compliments and thanks very easily. He's very, very stoic, is EZ.

"I feel lost without him, and very scared. I have to remain strong though, I won't crumble and I won't give up hope that he can be found without Ursula having to surrender herself," I sigh. Suddenly, my way is blocked by the massive vampire, and when he opens his mouth, I am shocked at the words that come from it.

"Ursula will get him back, somehow. But, just in case that doesn't happen and things do take a turn for the worse, I want you to know that I will always protect you. If Angel never returns, it will be my last pledge to him to ensure the woman he loved so much remains safe throughout the rest of her life. That is my solemn promise to you, Edie," he vouches. I reach forward to give him a hug, but he pulls away immediately. He then nods just once before we continue to walk. Ezekiel Reyes; he's a vampire who you never quite know where you are with and one who is very hard to predict.

Setting my mind to my errands, I get about starting them when we return to my house, doing some laundry and cleaning while EZ and Icarus sit in the back yard, Icarus playing tug with a large fallen branch from the big tree to the side of the fence. I then hop online and quickly pay my energy provider the money I owe them, free of all other duties until I have to go to work. Stepping into my bathroom and witnessing the state I left it in, though, I immediately revise that notion. Taking my rubber gloves and a scrubbing brush, I set to work. I can't say the distraction isn't welcome when my cell begins to ring about twenty minutes in, though.

"Hey love, finally you pick up!" Sasha says immediately upon my answer.

"Hi honey, I know and I'm so sorry for not picking up all last night," I begin in apology, since I had a few missed calls from her I was too distressed to take.

"Having too much fun and wild sex with your vampire, huh?" she comments cheerfully. Immediately at the very mention of him, I feel a massive lump rise in my throat.

"No, no sadly it's nothing like that at all. There's some vampire related trouble at my end, things I cannot go into, but because of those things Angel is currently missing, so if you're with Eric now you might want to tell him that," I explain. I then hear a noise that sounds like the phone being passed, the next voice I hear the vampire himself.

"Edie babe, what's happening? Angel has filled me in on it all, and I won't tell anyone what you tell me, not even Abes if you don’t want me to," he promises. That's his pet name for Sasha, since her surname is Abram. They got together properly a few weeks ago, and they're so in love. It's nice to see Sasha happily settled with a guy for once instead of flitting from man to man. I then bring Eric up to speed and tell him about everything going on, hearing him excusing himself to Sasha before he obviously leaves the room to talk to me more privately. It feels weird, telling all this to my best friend's boyfriend when I can't even tell her.

"Sal and I will keep our ears close to the ground, in fact I'll stop by on my way to work later and talk with Ursula, see if there's anything I can do for her. You hang on in there honey, Angel will be fine. Ursula won't give up on him without the fight of her life, and you know that. Let me put you back on with Sasha, and if you need me, you know where to find me," he tells me before handing the phone to my friend. I hear her voice speaking to me again, yet my answer doesn't come immediately as suddenly, I feel Angel within my blood, and I feel him strongly for just a few moments before suddenly, that little swell deflates completely, and then just keeps on deflating while I stand here feeling like something is being drained from me.

"Edie, sweetie, are you still there? Edie?" I hear Sasha calling, yet as I take deep breaths through my nose I cannot lift the phone to my ear again, feeling that tiny little bit of Angel's energy flickering out to nothing at all as I drop my cell on the bathroom floor and begin to run to the back yard, my very soul within me burning with pain.

"Get me to Ursula now, please EZ!" I beg him urgently, watching him look concerned immediately. He gets up and gives me a swift nod before picking me up and transporting me back to the house where en route I feel a huge wave of distress run through me. It isn't Angel's though, it's his mother's. I have what I dread confirmed to me when EZ swings open the front door, and there on her knees in the hallway is Ursula, screaming her lungs out in despair.

"Ursula is he... he, has he?" I stammer, not able to say the last word as I crouch by her side, tears slipping down my face. This can’t be real, it can’t, it can’t!

"He's gone, he's dead. They... they've killed him! No, no, no, no!" she wails, bloodied tears streaming her face before another distraught scream exits her mouth. This cannot be, it cannot be at all, but it is. My love is gone, I will never see him, or feel his energy rise within me; never hear him tell me he loves me again. It is at this point I cannot even formulate any further words, and stand up only to faint and fall backwards into EZ's arms, the distress and complete heartbreak at knowing my boyfriend has died too much for me to bear.

A/N - Please don’t hate me too much!! :(

[the-pinstriped-hood]

A small piece I started last week that I really wanted to finish. I wanted to do a look back on Percy and Bo's Relationship and the lead up to their wedding. (it won't be posted until Blair and Tommy (@texaschainsawslvt) get married so after that, it's free game. I titled this after a song from Shrek the Musical with the same name. Funny enough Bo and Percy have almost the same relationship as Shrek and Fiona. Huh. Anyway. This is when they become an official couple.

When Words Fail

By The-Pinstriped-Hood

The crickets chirped adding to the nightly swamp song that was heard around Ambrose. Bo sat with his six pack of beer on the roof of the station, music drifting out into the night. He couldn't think. Any thoughts he had were immediately on Percy.

A fight last week had given him the cold shoulder. He had fumbled his words like an idiot and ended up saying something hurtful. Percy took it the wrong way and kicked him out, choosing to instead have one of his brothers play messenger.

Bo got angry at Percy and neither of them had spoken to each other for a week.

The breeze gently tried to soothe his woes, hoping some fresh air would help him think.

The sound of someone climbing up the ladder caught his attention.

Percy was seen with her eyes cast slightly downward in a remorseful gaze. "May I….join you?"

A snort from Bo, allowed her up. She took a seat next to him, both of them staring down at the moonlit empty street below them in silence.

Percy glanced over at her friend. "I'm sorry."

Bo met her gaze, eyebrow raised. "For what?"

"Being a complete bitch. I shouldn't have gotten upset at you like I did. I behaved like a complete ice queen and you didn't deserve me yelling at you at all."

Silence.

"Apology accepted. Jus' next time gimme time to figure out what I'm tryin' to say. I ain't always good with words."

Percy nodded, "Agreed. So, what were you trying to say?"

The brunette sighed. "I was…." There he goes fidgeting again. Nervous as ever around her.

"Bo?"

He met her gaze, the moon reflected in her glasses. "I…I wanted to ask…."

She patiently waited as he silently made slightly pained faces trying to gather his thoughts, while fidgeting with his ring. "Percy, Darlin'. I-"

He couldn't put it to words how hard he had fallen for her and how it pained him to go a week without talking to her.

He looked over to see her head slightly tilted as if she had read his mind. She smiled, closing the gap between them, planting a kiss on his chapped lips.

"I love you too, Bo."

Tags: @rottent33th @slaasherslut @devil-doll13 @bluecoolr-main @ajarofpickledtears @shonkgobonk @soupbabe @slasherscrybaby @solmints-messyocdiary @ahmnom @probably-a-plant-thing @damien-mlm @kalid-raven @angxlslasher @allthingsblood

[inevertookart]

Context Design

Made of of Robert Plant, Jimmy Page, John Paul Johns and John Bonham, Led Zeppelin formed in London in 1968. Originally The New Yardbirds the group had their first Scandinavian tour in September 1968 and would later that month go on to record their first album.

The New Yardbirds wouldn't last long, after completion of the first album the band would receive a cease and desist from a former band member stating the name only covered so long and by the end Scandinavian tour the The New Yardbirds were no longer. There are mixed stories about how it came to pass but the story I like the most (read online) was, In May 1966, Moon and Who bassist John Entwistle recorded the instrumental "Beck's Bolero" with Page, John Paul Jones and Jeff Beck. The track came out well, and they tossed around the idea of forming a new band. Moon allegedly said the band would go over like a lead balloon. A few tweaks were made to make the name more appealing and understandable and Lead Zeppelin was born.

Lead Zeppelin would go on to be one of the most successful music artists of all time with record sales ranging from 200 - 300 million units worldwide. With such a a massive career and some amazing albums it was the cover of their first album self titled Lead Zeppelin 1968 that I liked.

Originally taken by Sam Sher on his big sphere camera, the Hindenburg disaster. On May 3, 1937, the Hindenburg left Frankfurt, Germany, for a journey across the Atlantic to Lakehurst’s Navy Air Base. Stretching 804 feet from stern to bow, it carried 36 passengers and crew of 61. While attempting to moor at Lakehurst, the airship suddenly burst into flames, probably after a spark ignited its hydrogen core. Rapidly falling 200 feet to the ground, the hull of the airship incinerated within seconds. Thirteen passengers, 21 crewmen, and 1 civilian member of the ground crew lost their lives, and most of the survivors suffered substantial injuries.

George Hardie was born in 1944. while attending the Royal College of Art Hardie was recommended for the Lead Zeppelin album cover by his friend, photographer Stephen Goldblatt. After rejecting some of his ideas Jimmy Page suggested re-working the picture of the Hindenburg disaster which worked with how the band forming going down like a lead balloon. Hardie set to work on the idea, using a technique called Stippling. Stippling means to use dots or marks to create an image, a build up of this in the right way could create shadows or lines and end up creating an image this could be done using different methods but traditionally and on this occasion Hardie used his radiograph pen. Mr Hardie added: 'I think the drawing made a good and memorable cover, but this was more to do with the photograph and Jimmy Page's choice of it than with my skill as a dotter.'  George Hardie was payed £60 for his work which he said he was happy about and thought the album cover was "good and memorable"

(example of stippling )

Along with Led Zeppelin's album, George Hardie would go on to create some of the most recognisable album covers in music history with Pink Floyds Dark Side of the Moon and Black Sabbaths Technical Ecstasy.

I thought it was be good to add some information regarding the album typeface but looking online it I could not find a definitive answer. one website I found believes that the typeface used for the album was a modified Futura extra bold. This was down to an emphasis on the sharp points of the 'Z' but as the great thing with typeface there are other websites that disagree with this but sadly there is nothing that is 100% but the typeface was not meant to be the stand out feature of this album it was meant to be the picture tat made such an impact.

[reputationdamiano]

dandelions

pairing: damiano david x reader

warning(s): one mention of blood in person's veins

word count: 631

summary: when you and damiano find a field of dandelions, your vacation in french countryside can’t get any better.

a/n: over a year ago, a certain person made a playlist for me, this song was in it. i still find it very beautiful and it inspired me to write a short fic. as you may see, i’m trying to improve my writing. i also want to thank @bidet-and-legolas for proofreading 🤍

dandelions. 

there were hundreds of thousands of them. sitting on the ground, surrounded by them, you felt like a plant from a different ecosystem which has been gradually putting down its roots. 

a light breeze seemed to be moving feather-like clouds high above the planet. the temperature was the optimum in which you felt most at peace with reality: high, but not a suffocating heat. 

while slowly approaching you, damiano took all of his steps like a spy. in his eyes, you were a masterpiece and he was admiring you.

your hair was falling down in cascades over a flaxen dress the color of freshly harvested peaches. you were holding one of the flowers in your hand with great caution, like it was the last one in the world and you could save the species from going extinct. 

“what are you thinking about, bella?” your boyfriend asked, and sat down on the grass. he began tracing the tattoo on your arm with his fingers, just like he did a week after you got it and finally took the protective film off it. damiano loved every inch of your skin and always let you know about it. 

“i’m wishing on those little things” 

this was true. when you encountered this field about ten minutes ago, during your bike excursion in the countryside, it instantly reminded you of an old superstition. 

“and what are you wishing for?” damiano enquired, resting his head on your shoulder and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“don’t you know saying it out loud is against the rules of wishing?” you replied half-jokingly. 

“come on, won’t you tell me?” damiano tried to convince you, looking at you with puppy eyes. 

“alright” you blew the seeds of the dandelion and watched them make their way through the lukewarm air. you looked into his hazel eyes and cupped his cheeks delicately.

“i wished that you’ll be mine forever”

then you closed your eyes and pulled him even closer. that’s when your lips met his in a soft kiss that was becoming more and more passionate every second.

when it came to an end, damiano’s eyes light up like sparklers. 

“your wish is going to come true, i promise” he beamed and looked at you fondly. 

“but i need you to close your eyes right now” damiano added. 

“um.. okay?” you didn’t have the slightest idea what he was plotting this time but you followed his instructions. 

he must’ve gotten up from the ground because your shoulders brushed and the space next to you seemed empty. 

you could feel the blood in your veins flowing faster and faster.

“dami, where are you going?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

“please be patient” his voice could be heard a few meters away from your sitting spot.  although you were hyped up, you kept sitting still, seeing nothing but darkness in front of you.

“well, you can open your eyes now” 

you finally lifted your eyelids to a sight of damiano kneeling before you. he was holding a little blue box with a shiny ring in it. the loving look on his face already expressed what he was about to say.

“i finally gathered the courage to do this. will you marry me, y/n?” 

the last five words were the confirmation that your boyfriend and you shared the same wish. you were convinced that no one could tear two of you apart, ever. 

your eyes glazed over as you reached for his hand. 

“yes” you exclaimed. the next thing you knew, you had a diamond ring on your finger. damiano pulled you in and your lips started moving in perfect sync. in that moment, it was like you were the only people on earth. 

“sei l’amore della mia vita” damiano confessed.

“i’ll be yours forever” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

taglist: @ethanesimp @bidet-and-legolas @mywritingonlyfans@kirstansworld @gretavanfleetlove @otaculo @bieberhoodforever @kyliesalvatore @dont-let-me-drown-in-you  @hopelessromantic727 @ilwiwbysmv  @lovelymaneskindays @grzybowysyn  @butkutee

masterlist

if you like my works, please reblog, comment or send me asks. ¡gracias!

[anime-grimmy-art]

What do you do when there’s not much to an AU? You make up your own stuff, ofc. And as is per usual when I make Character Designs, I make up a shit ton of lore too.

The ramblings under the cut, but what I’m really interested in, is what you guys think. Do you guys have any headcanons/ideas for this AU? Let me hear them! Also, if you don’t wanna read on tumblr, here’s the Google Docs link: https://drive.google.com/file/d/151yshHxnb_--P6eMKkwkI2dee9xC_Llb/view?usp=sharing

Before I get into the characters’ roles, here’s some general facts and backstory of their town:

- Basically, it’s Undertale meets Harvest Moon / Stardew Valley. Well, kinda. I at least used that approach for coming up for the jobs for the characters. You know, how there’s always a general store, a doctor, a smithy, etc.

- The usual story of a HM game is that you come to a town that’s way past its glory days and you, as the player/farmer, help them get back to that. The “backstory” of the town is that that already kinda happened. I’ll get into it more in the character description, but basically when Asgore was still mayor, the town got really popular. Then yadda yadda, a certain tragedy happened, two kids died, and the town suddenly got very bad publicity. There was a lot of stuff going on back then, bad reputation being spread and also a lot of law stuff, cos, you know, supposed child murder ‘n all, so Asgore made the decision to shut off the town to ppl from outside. This was in the interest of most monsters living there, because as fun as it is to have a lot of people coming there, most just wanted to live a quiet life. Not everyone was happy with that though, so many moved away from town and some others are trying to get the town back on its feet. But more on that later.

On to the characters:

I’m just gonna start with the skelebros, cos it’s their fault in the first place I got so invested.

Basically, they are what the player is in hm/sdv. They just showed up one day, took over the abandoned farmhouse and began their life there. The two came to town way after it was “closed” and since then a new mayor has opened the possibility for new residents to move in. Their farm helps the economy of the town a lot and the mayor, like usually in hm games, is trying to use that to make the town more known again. The skelebros aren’t really working towards that goal however.

So, now a bit more detail on them individually.

Papyrus:

- The design is mostly based on what’s “canon” in this au.

- He works mostly on the fields and is in charge of the crops. Their fields aren’t spectacularly big, but still big enough to plant a few dozen rows of veggies. 

- Paps also helps out a lot in town when he has the time. He helps Asgore with his plants, he goes fishing with Undyne, helps Toriel carry crates around and so on. This is inspired by the part-time job mechanic in HM ToT.

- Unbelievably, in this AU Pap is not an absolutely awful cook. Since he helps out at Muffet’s and Grillby’s a lot, they tend to show him some tricks to cooking. Even though Pap’s not a big fan of the greasy or overly sweet cooking those two do, he picks up a lot.

Sans:

- Again, design mostly based on the “canon” look. Maybe a bit more baggy.

- This is finally an AU this dude gets to rest. Since there are no resets and he doesn’t have to see his bro die again and again, for once in his life, he’s not a sad ball of depression. He’s just a chill and lazy dude that loves to make puns. Though, since he’s not too experienced with the feelings of loss, helplessness or grieving, he still tends to hide behind puns and fakes smiles if he does feel bad.

- Sans is in charge of the animals on the farm. Papyrus begrudgingly gave him that role since Pap’s loud demeanour and hectic movements usually scare the animals. Sans’ relaxed attitude draws the animals to him naturally and even if Pap mostly finds him sleep against a tree, in a stack of hay or on one of the sheep, the animals are always fed, healthy and relaxed, so Sans seems to be doing his job.

- Sans always has a small chic sit inside his hoodie or hat. Is it always the same one? Who knows, maybe.

- Sans also, somehow, can produce eggs out of thin air. Grab into his hoodie pocket, in his pants pocket, in his hat, in his slipper, there’s suddenly always an egg there. On good days he can even make butter or cheese appear. 

Gaster:

- He’s literally just a scarecrow in this. Though, if you ask any of the bros why they designed their scarecrow that way, they won’t have an answer.

Frisk&Toriel:

- Frisk is mostly based on what I wore myself as a kid in summer. Just a loose shirt with a cappy. Toriel basically has her ut gown, just with an apron on top.

- Frisk just appeared outside the “magical” forest one day. Napstablook and his cousin found them and brought them to Toriel, who has been taking care of them since.

- Toriel runs the general store in town, but also often takes care of the few kids that still live there.

- Frisk usually helps out in Toriels store, plays with the other kids or sits around at Asgore’s. They’re notorious for nabbing small snacks, mostly from Asgore’s plants. You’ll always find them munching on something. 

- Frisk was in town before the skelebros. Since they’d moved in, Frisk often went to spy on their farm. After a small incident with angry chicken, Frisk got to know the two better and now they see them as something between brothers and uncles.

- But Frisk honestly gets along with everyone. Just like in UT, they’ve not only been adopted by Toriel but literally everyone.

- Toriel and Asgore’s relationship is not as bad as in the main game, since, you know, Asgore didn’t kill literal children, but there’s still tension between them. Back when Asriel and Chara died and the whole thing with the bad rep for the town began, Toriel felt betrayed by Asgore focusing more on the town than giving their deceased kids the grieving they deserved. They’re not divorced, but Toriel still moved out and said needed space to think. Now that Frisk is in the picture though, the both of them are slowly coming to even ground and may even be able to talk things out and clear up the uncertainty of their decisions.

Asgore:

-Asgore has his UT Ending / Deltarune clothes, just with a gardener’s belt.

- He’s the previous mayor of the town, but after all the crap that happened, he stepped down from the position. Now he has his own little shop and sells seeds, saplings, homegrown veggies and fertilizer. So, basically what e.g. the Marimba Farm is in HM AP

- His main customer is Papyrus and they’re on friendly terms. Asgore is worried about how much and how hard Pap works, so he often gives him a discount. 

- Since his family’s past tragedy, Asgore is kind of nervous around kids. So, when he first met Frisk, he hoped they’d not visit him too often. But to his chagrin, Frisk took an instant liking to him and spends a lot of time at his shop (and steals eats the fresh grown veggies). Now, he’s really grateful for that, because for one, he loves Frisk as dearly as he had his own children, and also because now the tension and mistrust between him and Toriel seem to grow smaller day by day.

Undyne&Alphys:

- I gave Undyne a pretty basic fisher’s outfit. Alphys basically has Elli from HM’s outfit, just a bit more doctory stuff added. She still has her canon lab coat too.

- In essence, Undyne and Alphys have 2 completely different jobs. Alphys is the resident doctor and Undyne runs the fish market.

Two things. Yes, I know Alphys is more a mechanic than a doctor, she fits the aesthetic though, so she’s the doc now. And no, Undyne being a fisherwoman is not cannibalism, think of it more as a shark hunting smaller fish.

- The reason I lump them together is because they act as the local “smithy”. Alphys is still really tech savvy in this (I mean, Mettaton is still part of this AU), so she takes on most problems with electronics and stuff. For Undyne, I didn’t want to lose her Royal Guard’s Captain image, so she’s really good at handling tools (and weapons, but Al doesn’t let her make them anymore). So basically, if there’s a broken tool, you can be sure that either Undyne or Alphys can fix it.

- As for relationships, those two are still an item. Alphys is still really shy and a shut-off, but since Undyne and Pap become best friends, she gets to know the skelebros better. She and Sans especially get along well, since most of the time Undyne and Papyrus are let loose, they sit back and talk about science-y stuff. (no, Sans doesn’t have a background in science but he’s still into sci-fi)

- Alphys has a bit of a strained relationship with both Asgore and Mettaton.

Back when Chara and Asriel died, it was because of “illness” (maybe poisoning?). Alphys feels awful because with her back then limited knowledge on medicine she couldn’t help the two. Asgore doesn’t hold anything against her but Alphys can’t help but feel guilty.

Alphys still built Mettaton’s body in this one. The two had a really big disagreement, because Mettaton hated the fact the town was going to close, and he couldn’t understand how Alphys could feel otherwise, even more so endorse the idea.

Mettaton, Napstablook, Mad Dummy/Mew Mew:

- Napsta and Dummy are pretty self-explanatory, they got straw hats. Mettaton’s outfit is a bit of a joke cos it’s a play on “work at the top and party at the bottom”. The tie has two different sides, one with the yellow red pattern, the other completely red. His “top part” is the business part, because when he’s on tv or in the mayors’ office, you don’t usually see his feet. The bottom is his party/dance part, cos his dancing/entertainment channels mostly feature his legs. 

- Mettaton, still a robot, Napstablook and Mad Dummy are all still cousins in this AU.

- Originally, they all lived and worked at the Blook Farm, the Animal Farm of this AU. Mettaton, however, despised that simple live and after befriending Alphys and her building him a body, he left the Farm to pursue bigger things. 

- Mettaton runs the local tv network. From weather to game shows, he does it all. He also runs the tailor shop in town that sells his designer clothes and merchandise. After Asgore stepped down, Mettaton also took over the role of town’s mayor and now works towards making the place more known again. Not everybody is happy with him doing that though.

- One of those people is the Mad Dummy. He can’t stand people anyways and he always claims that history would just repeat itself.

- Since the whole family is made of ghosts, they have different dummies and scarecrows they can use to take care of the animals. To mock Mettaton and kinda get back at Alphys for giving MTT such an opportunity, Mad Dummy found the blueprints for the Mew Mew robot and now modelled one of their scarecrows after it. 

- Napstablook isn’t fond of taking over obejcts like his cousins do, so he mostly takes care of the snails. Somehow, he can interact with them even when incorporeal. 

Muffet&Grillby:

- The two of them run the Inn together. Muffet cooks in the daytime and makes desserts, Grillby manages the bar in the evening. 

- The two still can’t really stand each other but working together like this benefits them both because their rivalry just spurs them on more.

- Even though Grillby is a patient person, somehow Muffet is the only person who riles him up enough to retaliate. (Well, maybe except for Sans, he’s a strong second).

So, basically everything between those two is a challenge in some way. Even if Papyrus doesn’t notice, even his cooking lessons are a challenge for them. 

- Even though they’re constantly bickering, after working together for so many years, there’s a strange level of respect and trust between them. Even if back when they first started this business, they’d pour salt into an already open wound, nowadays they’d know better and just take a step back from the other or even comfort the other (on very rare occasions only). 

Asriel&Chara:

- They be dead. Kinda.

Some Characters that’d live in that town too but that I haven’t made designs for:

- Gerson is the original smithy of the town. He’d grown up in a family of smiths, but he’d always had an appreciation for the sea. That’s why, when the town became more deserted and Undyne had a good enough skill level as smith, he took up the Captains hat and now mostly spends his days out on sea. He also ferries people to places if they need him to. Oh, and just like in canon, Undyne learned most of her skills from him.

- Burgerpants is a poor dude Mettaton basically kidnapped when he was trying to get fame in the city. Now Burgerpants works wherever MTT needs him to, be that as cameraman for the tv shows, cashier in his tailor shop or his slave secretary in the mayor’s office.

- MK is Frisk’s best kid friend. MK’s parents are in charge of shipping the goods out of town and paying the individual people. MK’s the one that usually collects the goods at the end of the day.

- Other than that, there are only a few people in town. I’d imagine the older folks or the really young families stayed in town after it was closed. I think the librarby dude would still run the library. Some Snowdin residents like the stone family or the dogs also might still live there. 

[sribbles-drabbles]

RANDOM SELF INDULGENT TWST HC

I’m so sorry for being inactive, but have this for the time being as I have no real requests.

“How would they react to an accident prone/ clumsy af S/O?”

🍎Vil🍎

You little-

Wait, you didn't spill your water on him on purpose?

He’s concerned more than anything

Thinks your balance may be a result of some sort of condition

And when it’s not? Well, he’s relived and now hellbent to help you improve your balance

Does that whole book posture thing and has you follow him around

Which is easier said than done, because Vil is 6’1” and has long legs that move pretty fast because he’s used to being brisk as the busy man he is-

He also forces you to wear heels that get progressively taller once you master the previous height

On top of it he teaches you ballet and taekwondo, both skills that help with balance that he had to learn due to films he was in.

He also believes these skills are useful as they make for a great workout and taekwondo aids in self defense

When he’s done with you, you have honestly some of the best balance and attention to detail in the school

To the point where you even notice Riddle’s Errors-

Vil is very proud of his darling~

🏹Rook🏹

Oh, he’s seen it ALL

That time you tripped over nothing and fell into the fountain? Yep.

That time you stepped on Leona’s tail while he was sleeping and neatly got killed? Of course.

He’s had to save you more than once when you stumbled over your words or over and object in your path

Luckily most ignore your clumsiness. Afterall, the vice housewarden of Pomfiore is infamous for his own quirks and how unnerving he is

Every time you trip, you always seem to end up in his arms or to seem to have the beautiful hunter applying bandages to your wounds

He thinks your clumsiness only adds to your charm and beauty and wouldn’t change it for the world

However, if you like to become more graceful, he’s more than happy to help.

He takes you out hunting, teaching you how to be light and quick on your feet as to not scare away game

Soon enough you’re just as agile and stealthy as him, and you both are a force to be reckoned with…

🦁Leona🦁

That’s rough buddy

No but seriously, he doesn’t give a shit

You fell? That sounds like a you problem.

Wait don’t start crying-

Leona honestly sees your clumsiness as nothing more than a nuisance

Like that time you brought him a drink and spilt it all over him, and then began to noisily apologize for almost an hour

He doesn’t understand how you trip over air

So much like any other Leona solution, his idea is to do nothing about it at all!!

Ok maybe something, but still not much.

He carries you to and from classes like a sack of potatoes and has Ruggie bring you lunch and such so you don’t spill it on yourself, him, or anyone else and cause trouble for him on your way back to the greenhouse

And even when you eat shit by face planting into the dirt while playing a friendly game of spell drive with him, he’ll simply grunt

Little do you see the slightest smirk on his lips, you do look cute when you pout like that after all…

♦️Cater♦️

WATCH OUT FOR THAT- annnd you’ve already tripped over the curb.

Cater was never too concerned with your clumsiness

If anything he thought it was really cute!! It only added to the charm that he loves about you

That was until you came over to help him paint the roses and he heard a thud, followed by a sound that made him jump higher than a white rabbit-

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Turns out you dropped a paint can on Riddle while attempting to paint the roses…and let’s just say it did’nt end well…

The two of you apologized profusely

Now cater sees it as a little less cute and watches you whenever your near to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or cause grief for others

Helps you in small ways, such as pouring tea rather than letting you do it

Offers you his arm whenever going somewhere rather than holding hands as it allows him to steady you

All very subtle ways

But he still loves you non the less, and will tend to any mistake you make as long as if means he gets kisses and cuddles from you at the end of the day

🎸Lilia🎸

You will never hit the ground while he’s here!

Seriously it’s miraculous but after you start dating Lilia, you’ve never scraped your knees or bruised your butt when you trip

Lilia always just seems to be in the right place at the right time

Although what you don’t know is that Lilia is used to this

Why? He’s a father.

Silver is also fairly clumsy, he’s cut himself on accident with his sword multiple times, fallen asleep in dangerous places, absent mindedly forgot assignments-

You name it, he’s seen it.

So when you first fall down the stairs, bracing yourself for the hard landing only to never have it come and instead have warm arms holding you bridal style and a mischievous voice in your ears you’re MORE than shocked

How did he get here to fast?!?!

Omg did he see you fall-

You’re totally embarrassed and hide your face in your hands as Lilia simply chuckles and coos reassurances at you

He gently pecks your cheek, ear and neck in attempt to see your cute embarrassed face.

He finds himself falling for you harder than you almost fell down this stairs

But how could he not? With such and endearing and adorable human like you, to call all his own.

[thischachamaru]

Dripping Wax

Summary: A knight and a peasant fight in an arena… there is a punchline. Some mild extortion takes place. In the end, Tanjiro ends up as an apprentice to a knight who doesn’t know what a joke is.

Read on AO3 or below 👇

🌻🐉

Chainmail rattled as Tanjiro leapt sideways, dodging a blood-red axe. He scrambled to his feet, black axe in hand, as the crowd roared around the jousting arena.

His opponent laughed. "Excellent hustle, my boy!" he crowed, amusement clear in his voice. In the shadows of his helmet was a hint of gold, and two burning embers where the eyes would normally be— less of a knight and more of a demon.

Tanjiro gripped his axe tighter. "Thank you very much!" He paused, and added, as an afterthought, "um. Sir."

"You are very welcome!" The knight boomed. "Though, there's no need for such formalities. You may address me as Kyojuro Rengoku!"

"Sir Rengoku," corrected Tanjiro. He shifted back, taking a wide stance, pretending his heart wasn’t shaking. It was one thing, to chop wood. It was another to chop flesh- even if that flesh was covered in armor. “I… wish we had met under different circumstances,” he admitted.

“Hm.” Rengoku tilted his head. His eyes gleamed inside his helmet. “But I rather like this. Don’t you?”

Tanjiro didn’t know what to say to that.

Without warning, Rengoku spun on his heel, axe flashing. Metal connected— screeching past Tanjiro’s chest-plate, sparks flying, before whipping away, just missing the gap in his armor.

Before Tanjiro could so much as gasp, Rengoku pursued him, axe whirling, flashing, slicing— Tanjiro ducking, stumbling, slipping, backwards— until Rengoku slammed him into the fence. The crowd cheered.

A drop of blood plopped onto the mud. Then another. Then another.

“Got you,” huffed Rengoku. He tried pulling away, only to find his weapon embedded in Tanjiro’s axe handle. “Interesting.”

Their eyes locked. Tanjiro bared his teeth.

He wasn’t going to lose.

Tanjiro jerked away, yanking Rengoku with him— then he firmly planted his feet, whipping his head towards Rengoku.

BANG!

Both axes splashed to the ground, splattering mud over their armored boots.

“Got you,” wheezed Tanjiro.

As Rengoku stared, a crack split through his helmet. Bit-by-bit, the crack snapped over the faceplate and the helmet shattered— clanging as it clattered against his armor, to the muddied ground. In the sun, Rengoku’s ember-eyes shimmered like halos. Tanjiro recalled, then, why some men worshipped angels.

The rest of his features were equally bizarre. He had a delicate face with strong brows and bright, sweaty hair, that clung to his features like magma. The air swam around him, bubbling and popping and swaying— the sort of heat Icarus felt when he flew too close to the sun. One second, one moment of happiness.

Then he fell.

Rengoku made a choked noise.

After a long moment, he gathered himself, and shoved Tanjiro over the fence. “A very good fight!” he announced. “Though, being disarmed so easily, I am quite ashamed! Perhaps I should retire, and become a jester, hmm?” The hushed crowd burst into laughter. Rengoku picked up his axe, and twirled it elegantly, before tossing it to a page.

The nobles clapped politely as Rengoku bowed to them, and the crowd again cheered when he made his rounds, showing off an impressive display of archery as Tanjiro dazedly soaked in a puddle. Then, on dismissal, as the next competitors trotted into the arena, he hopped over the fence and squatted next to Tanjiro.

“That was impressive.” He poked Tanjiro in the forehead. “I’ve been training all my life for this. To think, I was defeated by a charcoal farmer… it’s very mortifying, you know!” he poked Tanjiro again, harder. “Regardless. It’s decided! You’ll become my apprentice.”

“Decided… “ Tanjiro blinked, trying to gain his bearings. The world tilted around him, swaying in doubles, “Decided… by who? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Decided by me! Right now.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that!”

Rengoku abruptly stood, hauling Tanjiro up, and slamming him into his chest-plate headfirst— denting it.

“Haha! You’ve quite the talent for destruction, don’t you?” teased Rengoku. “Shall I send you the repair bill?”

Tanjiro looked at the ruined armor and nearly sobbed. “I… don’t think I can afford it,” he dourly replied. “I’m sorry.”

“All the more reason to join me!” Rengoku then said. “You’re Tanjiro, are you not? I shall accept your blood, sweat and tears as payment. My word is my bond.”

This seemed more like blackmail than chivalry, but Tanjiro didn’t know enough about chivalry to disagree. “Yes, Sir Rengoku. Okay. But…”

I don’t want to fight, he silently pleaded. Rengoku watched him expectantly. I want to live with my sister. I want to live in peace. But…

In a world like this, that was impossible.

Knowing that, Tanjiro nodded, smiling weakly as Rengoku beamed.

“Very good!” Rengoku clapped a hand on Tanjiro’s back, nearly bowling him over. “To start— I’d like to use your head as a battering ram.”

“E-excuse me?!”

“That was a joke!” Rengoku yanked him closer, pinching Tanjiro between his arm and chest plates. “I hear you commoners like those sorts of things,” he added conspiratorially.

“Sorts of thi—,” Tanjiro stammered. “Do you— not know what a joke is?”

“Hm?” Rengoku did not blink. He did not look at Tanjiro. “Ah, yes. I’m quite familiar!”

“Ah,” nodded Tanjiro, as if he understood. He didn’t. Why would someone lie about that? “I’m just not used to your sense of humor, Sir. You’ll have to tell me more,” he instead offered, as Rengoku cheerily called for some ale.

Just what had he gotten himself into?