#mango does ocs

[fr00tb0wl]

Eleonara, the Mud Witch of Elgin

Lore under the cut vvv

*This universe uses a mixture of book, show and game canon!*

A graduate of Aretuza, Eleonara focused on her abilities as a healer, an herbalist and a skilled Geomancer. And after a failed stint in politics, the sorceress cut herself off from trivial court life and focused her attention on wandering the Continent, offering her services to small villages. Anything from healing, protection, and, perhaps most infamously: Stealing away women, children and the unfortunate in the night, guiding those in need to sanctuary.

Born to a Brickmaker and a local healer, Eleonara hailed from the tiny village of Elgin. Her home consisted of others also working with mud and clay, potters and sculptors, brickmakers and builders, and was hidden in the swamps of Temeria surrounding Lake Vizima.

El was a middle child with two older siblings and two younger, it was a poor family but a loving one. And the girl often spent time barefoot in the mud, tossing rocks further across the lake than her siblings and often excelling in Hide and Seek. In fact, it was actually quite easy for the child to make herself disappear. Whenever her siblings became cross with her, she’d vanish into the mist. Foot races led to opponents getting their feet stuck in mud turned hard like cement, and even bumps and scrapes on a little brother’s knee could be healed with a loving kiss at the cost of a nosebleed or a need for a long nap. Little did she know, this was the result of hidden powers coming to blossom from within.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck when bandits raided the village due to a rumor that gold had been found while mining the clay. Eleonara’s father was crippled from a devastating injury and, tragically, Eleonara’s mother and siblings were lost in the ensuing struggle. From a family of seven to a family of two, the wounds and eventual scarring ran deep. Eleonara’s father was never the same and carried around an everlasting sadness that his one remaining daughter could not heal. Not with all of the love and herbs in the world. The rift between them grew as time passed, only for their connection to be completely severed with the arrival of a teacher from Aretuza.

While Eleonara doesn’t blame her father for doing so, the man was far too uneducated to realize what was happening, the sorceress from Aretuza had been pointed in their direction after a complaint was filed regarding Eleonara’s magical stunts. The man, convinced that he was doing the right thing and that his daughter would be in safer hands, allowed her to be sold and taken to Aretuza. This would be the last time they would see each other.

Given that Eleonara was from a poorer family, she, like many of the other girls from poorer families, had to work twice as hard from within their prison at Aretuza. Providing sometimes dangerous and often grueling manual labor to support the school and its functions. All while not being allowed to leave nor while having any contact with the outside world.

The girl was *not* fond of Aretuza, growing to despise their teaching tactics and means of pitting girls one against the other as a means of achieving power and greatness. But regardless, she applied herself to her studies. She faced some ridicule for showing an interest in Geomancy, a stubborn branch of an especially stubborn and draining element. This ended up being something she ended up studying extensively and excelling in alongside healing and herbal tinctures. She graduated with average marks and was released into the court of an up and on the rise Baron. A Baron who, with his party of fellow men, had gathered and unified large swathes of villages and land together. It seemed a promising start, and with the right hand it could blossom into something more.

It would be Eleonara’s first, and last, dive into politics.

Eleonara was met with hostility, suspicion and dislike from the people. The Baron and his supporters treated her like a lap decoration more than a guide or advisor, and much of El’s advice and attempts to help were met with stubborn and narrow minded means of thinking. It soon became clear to her that these men were simply interested in power and conquest. Disheartened, Eleonara befriended the Baron’s wife, a village chieftain’s daughter taken and forced into a marriage she hadn’t asked for. They bonded over their shared hatred of the self appointed Baron and his men. And when fighting broke out between the men, Eleonara took it upon herself to take the Baron’s wife and her children and guide them back to her home village, there they could escape the country with an old lover.

Eleonara, feeling a sense of duty to Aretuza, remained. Even as the Baron was slaughtered and the power vacuum began, the sorceress staid with each leader until angry and abused subjects burned down the fortress. El simply let her image die with them, and left the ashes behind along with a vow to never work for higher powers again. In helping her friend escape, Eleonara had found her calling: She’d always been good at hiding things. Now she could help others do the same thing.

So she walks the continent, spending long periods of time out in the wilderness and among the earth. She hones her Geomancy and Geokinesis and seeks out the few masters of the element of Earth. However, she often peddles herbs and healing services to small villages and towns. And, occasionally, finding an orphaned child, a battered girl or an outcast, befriending them, and coming for them in the night to take them to a different place to begin anew. Daughters ripped from their families returned, children brought to sanctuary or loving arms of new parents, men left for dead sent to places of healing. It is how Eleonara heals her heart and makes her difference in the world she knows.

However, this has not been without incident. Those who recognize her mud stained clothes call her ‘The Mud Witch’. Handfuls of scorned husbands or hired thugs or witch hunters have been sent after her often. Most of which usually end up encased in thick and hardened clay. Many are under the impression that she whisks people away to be killed and used as sacrifices. And eerie clay figures often find their way into the homes of those who are ‘chosen’. Circles of clay figures can often be found in the woods, acting as a barrier to hide huts filled with supplies and provide temporary shelter for those who wish to journey to their new destination alone. Eleonara herself is a mysterious figure, one who doesn’t speak of herself often but remains level headed and calm in almost all situations. She defends her charges ferociously from monsters and men alike, and is not beneath trying to stand up to a Witcher or two in order to accomplish her tasks.

It is unknown how long she intends to keep doing this for. Perhaps it’s how she feels she can make the most use of her abilities. Or perhaps she’s simply looking for somewhere to belong herself. Regardless, befriending the Mud Witch of Elgin brings with it a deep bond and unwavering loyalty. One that is sure to last lifetimes.

[mango-fizz]

i forgot what i had planned to caption this! look at my ocs ❤️

nsfw under the cut

if tumblr makes me censor these someone will get hurt

[lairde-lampblack]

i have developed a theory that troupemaster grimm used to be a moon god and his holy grounds uswd to bw where the city of tears lays now, though he was nomadic and cast constellations to make the wastes safer to travel. the nightmare heart parasitized him and his rebirth ritual to propegate and his former followers confused pk's light for their gods' as many creatures confuse man made light with moonlight

i tried to capture elements from both grimm and radi, and the nightmares are his will o wisps!

the lumaflies are the only remainder of his name on people's lips </3

[earlykatgetsthesparrow]

my WC oc's twolegs after losing more than three cats because they keep becoming warriors: ah, the cat ran away again. time to get another one!

[meximango]

Day 27 - Memory - Altani - G

Summary: Altani’s echo manifested differently than her fellow warriors of light.

Ok so this one is basically just a summary so I don’t forget an idea I’ve had for a while, lol. Just like Krile’s echo gives her fancy empathy powers, I tweaked most of my WoLs’ echoes to give them a bit of extra flavor. Luvon’s was touched on/implied a bit in ‘tempest’ this year, and Cahsi’s was in ffxivwrite2022 I believe, I can’t remember the prompt, but it’s on ao3. So it’s time for Altani! 

--

Altani first saw The Starshower in her dreams around the time she met Mogren, almost got her brother killed, and that the entire village determined she was destined to be their next priestess and medium. It was a lively few weeks for sure, everything interconnected. She wasn’t even ten summers old yet, but even so, she understood deep in her bones that it was a turning point in her life. The gate was locked behind her, and whatever had awoken inside her was there to stay. Her life from then on would be full of deceit–lies she had to tell to others, and lies she kept all for herself. 

She had no idea what her dreams meant. That they were a memory. That they would provide her an advantage on her path to greatness. The dreams were scary, and far too real, and instead of offering her comfort as she woke crying and screaming, the elders would praise her for unlocking the ability to see into death itself. They’d ruffle her hair and pat her on the back, telling her to keep training so she could convene with her ancestors and grant them wisdom. She kept up the farce for the sake of Mogren, who’d been mistaken as a spirit Altani regularly spoke to, but it was so much less and more than that. 

In Altani’s head, The Starshower was always Capitalized, because it was very Important. She didn’t know why, but it was a feeling in her tummy she refused to ignore. 

Sometimes she’d wake and remember in perfect clarity as the sky rained fire and desperate screams reverberated all around her. Never was she able to tear her gaze from the sky above, to witness who was with her, what the landscape looked like. It was just the dark red night full of smoke and embers, blazing bright trails falling toward her. It had to be stars. What else could be falling? What could cause such a thing to happen? What if the dream was an omen of things to come? What if it sucked her inside, and she became one of those falling stars, burning up before she could even hit the ground? 

Other times, Altani would wake with a sense of unease, far more tired than was reasonable, completely tangled in her sheets as sweat coated her brow, and she just Knew that she had dreamt of The Starshower. 

It would only make sense years later, after speaking with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, that she wasn’t alone. There were others who witnessed The Starshower, and it granted them special gifts. That her nightmares were actually a boon, a gift from the goddess of the star herself. But it would be many years before that point, and not even Mogren could understand her plight as a child. 

She turned it into a game, pretending The Starshower really was giving her the ability to delve into the lifestream and pluck stories and messages from long-dead tribe members. Each star that fell was just another of her ancestors coming by to say hello. They were already dead, so they couldn’t feel pain! The screams were actually high-pitched laughs. Her ancestors sure were silly, weren’t they, pulling a prank like that on her. It made lying to everyone easier, and sleeping became a little bit easier too. She was brave, and no way was The Starshower going to overpower her! The dreams became less frequent as she got older, and instead a few other types of visions manifested in her. It wasn’t often, but it did help with her priestess duties. 

Every so often, when someone talked to her–most often when reminiscing about something from their past–she’d suddenly be swept away and forced to bear witness to the moment they were talking about. It was as though she were there with them, as though she could alter reality if she just reached out and tried (she couldn’t, of course. She was an invisible entity able only to watch, but in the beginning she had wanted to find out. Thank Hydaelyn it was just a memory; to warp reality would have been too much power for a child who wished to have control over something in her life to have.) She got to witness the truth, even if the teller couldn’t remember it correctly themself or were lying for one reason or another. The downside was appearing as though she had been spaced out for a few minutes, followed by a wicked headache, but it was easy enough to write that one to the villagers as ‘divine communication’. She often used this to her advantage later, recalling the collected memories to help give merit to her own lies that she wove for the villagers about their dead loved ones and advice for their future. The best lies had a grain of truth to them, after all. Rarer, by quite a margin, were visions Altani had no idea how to explain or what they even were. It wouldn’t be until her trip to Norvrandt, well into her adventuring career, that she would begin to understand. Once in a blue moon, something would trigger her to view whoever she was looking at or speaking to in a different light. It started like a memory, with her surroundings fading out and transporting her somewhere else, but instead of seeing the person the vision was about, she saw someone else. Altani didn’t have the gift of aethersight, but she had a feeling, an instinct, that she learned to accept. The vision was about a different version of the person. Sometimes they looked very similar to nearly identical to the person in question, while other times, their race, gender, skin or fur color–everything about them was different. Except the eyes. That was the one factor that didn’t seem to change. Whatever eye color the present person who triggered the vision had, there would be at least a hint of that same color in there for the person in the vision. Even if they changed into a creature with limited eye colors! As much as she’d hoped this was perhaps the key to unlocking real medium powers so she could talk to her ancestors, it wasn’t meant to be. She never met any of her ancestors that way, as most of visions she saw weren’t of au ra, nor did they take place in the Azim Steppe. The second type of vision was far more confusing and far less useful to her, so Altani didn’t much care for them, waiting for them to pass and observing only with a passing interest, for the most part. It was strange, being privy to other versions of people she met, when those same people had no idea about or access to those alternate realities. She tried not to dwell too much on those. 

Some part of her wished she could have seen another Altani, though. Would they share her same gifts, her same curses? Would they be strong or weak, a natural crafter or a clumsy disaster? Were they a hunter, or a fisher, or a teacher? Would they become a parent, a merchant, a leader? Was their life a lie, forced to pretend they’re something they’re not to keep their village happy and their friend safe? Maybe they led a normal, mundane life, and would grow up to be nobody of import. Altani’s visions didn’t work on herself, so she’d never know what any other Altani was doing except herself. Maybe it was better that way, so she couldn’t become jealous of a life she couldn’t have. 

When she became an adventurer, met her fellow Warriors of Light, and discovered they had similar experiences with The Starshower and being forced into people’s memories, she hid her relief behind false bravado and a strong clap on the back. It was like the weight of Hydaelyn had been lifted from her shoulders, learning her affliction had such a tiny, unassuming name as the echo. That there was an entire group of people studying it, and that this thing she’d been confused and frightened about and taking advantage of for so long already was considering a blessing from the goddess Hydaelyn herself. Hear, Feel, Think, indeed.This gift was shared among a select few, and they were often destined for greatness, which was all she strived for these days. She wanted to be strong enough to protect everyone without the power to do it themselves. She knew what it felt like to be powerless and scared, and so she would ensure to keep others from those awful feelings as much as she could.

While the others shared in most of the same echo traits, none of them ever saw those other versions of people or at least made no mention of it, so Altani kept that close to her chest. Only Mogren knew about that little trait, and they’d probably forgotten about it by now, since she only mentioned it a few times when she was younger and never again. 

Luckily, she’d never had to deal with seeing other versions of her family of friends, but of course that changed when she started adventuring with those others who shared in the gift. Maybe it just triggered more easily for those who’d also seen The Starshower? 

During one of her travels with Luvon, she’d had a vision that couldn’t have been of his past, as it took place in a gigantic forest unlike anything that existed on the mainland. Small streams of unnatural, sickly white light passed through the foliage and dappled the ground. She saw a young qiqirn and an older one carving tablets together. The younger had a yellow-green glint of excitement in their eyes as they speculated about what lay in the ruins, and what their home had been like before a flood of some kind. A fear years later is when that ‘memory’ clicked into place. Her moment of breakthrough came through after she was transported to the First. When all major threats were done being taken care of with Cahsi and Luvon, she was helping the Qitari unearth their history. Among the group in Hopl's Stopple, she noticed the pair she’d seen in her vision. Huh. So the person she’d seen in that vision was not a qiqirn at all, but their equivalent on the First, a qitari. Someone from a completely different shard… She observed them from afar, not wanting to barge in with nonsensical questions, but seeing how the little qitari acted and interacted with others, she could definitely see the similarities between them and Luvon. It was incredibly strange, but she’d come to realize by now that nothing was too strange for this universe. 

Despite having fragments of the same soul, they were still their own people. She’d accepted that already with all the visions she’d seen throughout the years. Nobody acted exactly like their other version’s self, even if there were similarities. Ardbert was pretty different from Cahsi, for example. Altani could have smacked herself realizing one of her echo visions of either Cahsi or Ardbert were not about the memory of their meeting and showdown, but rather showing her that they were apparently versions of one another. That news sure might have come in handy before they had to defeat Emet-Selch–but then again, maybe not. Maybe it would have been even harder or weirder for Cahsi to let go. She’d made a close friend of the warrior in her time on the first, and had taken it hard when he had to leave. Altani had finally been able to meet him a few times before the end, thanks to some ingenious spellwork and alchemy on Cahsi’s part. It was sad that he had to rejoin Cahsi, but it was his own choice, and Ardbert had already been dead for so long, so that’s probably why he was able to do so in the first place. Altani wasn’t about to subscribe to the now-dead ascian’s idea that rejoining all shards of the soul into one was the only way to truly exist and lead a worthwhile life. From what she’d seen, other shards were doing just fine for themselves–independently! 

That said, she was pretty sure if she introduced Luvon to his qitari counterpart, that nothing would happen unless one of them were to die. Maybe. She certainly didn’t want to test that, it was a horrifying thought. They’d probably stay two separate entities, none the wiser of their status as parts of one larger, more powerful soul at one point.

Really, this was all a lot to take in and think about, and nobody she wanted to discuss it with. It gave her a headache. One day, she’d figure this out with her friends. Maybe it was selfish to keep this from them, but she’d seen the heartbreak Cahsi went through with Ardbert, and she just felt it was best at this time. They had enough worries on their plate as it was. 

[mossymango]

Heheeh, nom 🍈

[carriaqes]

Rebecca and Mika getting boba :)

[voidsumbrella]

a comic about haven having a normal week. [3/7]

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[thy-fucks-runneth-dry]

Live Mango reactions as I doodled

[tiredsmashbros]

LMAOOOOO HELLLOOOO ????????/ WHAT IS THIS ??????? OKAY WAIT I DEADASS FORGOT I SEND YOU THIS AND THE FACT I GOT LORE FROM IT ITS SERIOUSLY DRIVING ME CRAZY WHAT. IM FREAKING OUT BRO WAHT WHAT WHAT GYIUHFJEDSXUIHKJ WHY IS BRO SOBBING NOOOOOO DR HORSEMAN ITS JUST A SILLY HORSE SHOW PLS NO CRY tsb its time to change the channel to bluey instead /silly EDSIXJHKNED

bro

when we binge watching the mlp gen4 series fr /silly

Right now

On second thoughts, binge watching is cancelled until someone gets some fucking therapy.

[fr00tb0wl]

VERY busy at work, but my husband got me into the Witcher series and naturally, upon purchasing all three games, a book and watching half of the Netflix series, my kneejerk reaction was to make an OC.

Not a whole lot of drawings on her yet, but her name is Eleonara, the Mud Witch of Elgin. She is a past graduate of Aretuza and specializes in geomancy.

[fics-lovebot]

jujutsu kaisen fic recs pt. 3

main masterlist - jjk fic recs pt. 1 - jjk fic recs pt. 2

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

these are my personal favs, so pls reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking crying

lambent - ( @xo2dee ) kinda fluffy, true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, hubby!sukuna, a lil cannibalism, THIS NEEDs A KDRAMA

paparazzi´s pov - ( @rayveneyed ) fluff, award winning actor!sukuna, singer!oc, he likes messing around with supermodels but then the both of them meet at a fashion show, next thing you know oc got an anklet with his initials in garnet AÑDLJSÑFDLJ i really like this, would love to see a longer version

mangoes - ( @sttoru ) fluff, pregnant!reader, hubby!sukuna, tru form!sukuna, SOOO CUTEE, this acc had me giggling and kicking my feet

nanami drabbles - ( @sugurizz ) pwp, pls yall readdd part 2 and part 3, its crazyy

fifteen minutes - ( @roseglazedlens ) nanami smut. “Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” that´s all I have to say, your honor

protective - (@kingkonoha ) headcanon, hubby!kento, my man my man my man my man i love thissss

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) gojo smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

jock bf!yuuji - ( @tteokdoroki ) smut, fluff, all-star jock!yuuji, weird gf!reader, college au. one thing about me, i LOVE jock!yuuji. READ THIS AS WELL PLEASSEE

In denial - ( @rosesaints ) smut, sub!yuuta, "he doesn’t believe that it’s real until you’re actually sinking down onto his cock" period.

protective hubby - ( @slttygeto ) teacher!suguru, pregnant wife oc, it´s cutee

focus - ( @arminsumi ) suggestive, flirty!geto, tutor!geto, “you’re doing so good for me… keep going.” I HATE ITTTTT, i would fold like a mf lawn chair bitch OOF

wap - ( @tonycries ) smut, going in raw for the first time. i caNNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW GOOD THIS IS JUST PLEASEEE GO READ IT

warm heart pastry - ( @cckaisen ) text, fluff, crack, first of all,,, i love yuji, second of all satoru REALLY needs help, and third of all WHY IS INUMAKI ALWAYS ON SOME SHIT??? lmaooooo

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) gojo fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

will always be yours - ( @nezuscribe ) smut, fluff, so basically toji only does rough sex, doggy style being his fav, but when it comes to you he prefers the loving-face to face-intense eye contanct type of sex (more like love making) bc being with you makes him feel ten different emotions at once :) DÑFLJSLDFJ

ridin dirty?! - ( @screampied ) smut, mechanic!toji, the beggining had me giggling and blushing sdlfhlsjh, he´s too fucking cocky lmao, writing his number on her asscheeks and stuff

losing his mind - ( @daisynik7 ) smut, dom!reader, hubby!kento, sub!kento, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, WHEEEEEEEEW, 10000/10, now this is new

his protégé - ( @augustinewrites ) fluff, slice of life, fiancé!kento, dinner time with yuuji, it´s so wholesome :´)

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

[lairde-lampblack]

i have developed a theory that troupemaster grimm used to be a moon god and his holy grounds uswd to bw where the city of tears lays now, though he was nomadic and cast constellations to make the wastes safer to travel. the nightmare heart parasitized him and his rebirth ritual to propegate and his former followers confused pk's light for their gods' as many creatures confuse man made light with moonlight

i tried to capture elements from both grimm and radi, and the nightmares are his will o wisps!

the lumaflies are the only remainder of his name on people's lips </3

[mrpuzzle]

GIVE ME ORANGE JUICE PLEASE 🗣️‼️‼️

Originally wasn't gonna post this here but I rly like how it came out!! This was made for smthn on Twt

Mortis as a bartender :3c

[simplyzeeka]

LIPSTICK STAINS

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus sized! black fem oc (Lorelei)

Warning: None.

Summary: Terry finds himself fully immersed in a woman who frequently visits the coffee shop he helps his sister run. Sometimes it's the littlest things that can catch your attention and hold it hostage.

It was a small act of courtesy, the bare minimum really.

 She came in, the scent of mango announced her arrival before the chiming of the doorbell. The fruity notes blended perfectly with the sugary spectrums that filled the café. 

She always ordered her usual. A small slice of lemon cheesecake, a hazelnut cappuccino, and a glass of water. 

Often, she would have a book in her hands while she ate. Sometimes she’d be too immersed with what was on her laptop screen to care about her food, she’d pack it to go after two or three bites. 

Like her order, there was one thing that remained a constant at every visit. A vibrant cherry red lipstick stained her lips all the times she frequented the cafe. And every single time, she left a stain of her full lips on the white coffee cup.

Terry had gotten used to his staff having to wash lipstick stains off cups, it wasn’t really something they complained about, the dishes were getting washed whether the stains were there or not.

But she always asked for a serviette, that only if she didn't have a wet wipe to wipe the stain away. It was a small detail. Almost insignificant, but it brought a smile to Terry’s face when he first noticed this. 

The first few times, he watched her do this in appreciation. She was making the job of her staff a little easier. Not that scrubbing at dishes was a complex task, but the thought was more than enough to have Terry thinking about her more than he should’ve. And after a while, he began disliking her thoughtfulness.

It was a selfish desire, a need more specifically. He suddenly wouldn't mind her leaving the lipstick stains as is. He would take over washing the dishes just to smear the creamy balm between his fingers. 

It took a few more visits, until he had created a system where they wrote the names of customers on to go cups, solely to get her name. And the consonance of syllables blended together in a harmony that rang into his ears as smooth as her voice. Lorelei, that was her name.

And Terry couldn't help but wonder if she would stain his heart like she does his cups.

A/N: Would you guys want to read this? I want to try writing fluff and cater to plus sized readers so that my work is more inclusive. Now I'll add that I'm not plus sized myself, but I wanna learn to properly represent people who are so that they can feel included in my works. While I'm writing this, I will be reading works from authors who write solely/especially for plus sized readers/oc's, and also ask for advice. Proper research goes a really long way.

Taglist: @blyffe @peachbutterfly-blog @browngirldominion @blackmoonchilee @megamindsecretlair @mogul93 @earthchica @nayaesworld @cdotmvkspaz @zillasvilla @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @onherereading

[meximango]

Day 12 - Quarry - Vaile - M

Warning : swearing/violence; a bit of suicidal ideation , ptsd episode/trauma. Nothing more gruesome than what’s in the game. Summary: Things go wrong on the job. Vaile has a no good very bad day.

Damn it all!

Vaile leapt between one rooftop and the next, landing roughly on his left shoulder as he rolled the landing. No time to focus on the slight sting, he had to push his body past its normal limits if he wanted to catch up. His portals weren’t enough for this mark–he was fast. No way did he want to lose this crafty bastard. 

The trail was heading toward the inner city, where there would be far too many hiding places and possible witnesses–even in the dead of night like now. This had to end before then.

Normally, his targets were none the wiser to his presence, never even seeing his face before their demise. He simply took a bag of gil from whoever wanted someone dead, didn’t ask too many questions, snuck up behind the victim when their guard was down, and a quick slice of the scythe was all it took. Cutting their heads clean off was a sure death; if he was quick enough, he could avoid the blood spray as they went down like the sack of flesh they were. He didn’t only do assassinations, but those tended to pay the highest, and he had a high success rate, so those were the jobs that came to him. It wasn’t a dream job, but he’d given up on dreams long ago. Vaile wasn’t keen on returning to a life of thievery and piracy, so he kept on like this. He’d sailed away from that group of rough and tumble men as soon as he was skilled enough to make a name for himself and live solo. Being a mercenary was dangerous, and it was hardly enjoyable, but he was good at it, and there were a lot of shitty people on this star–so what did it matter to him if he took some out on his own way out? 

Maybe if he was lucky, someone related to one of his many victims would go on a path of vengeance, put him out of his misery. He may even let them.

Twelve knows he’s too scared to do it himself. He felt a rumbling and tingling through his body, an itch in his hand where it gripped his scythe, and the reaper stone attached to his necklace burned hotly against his clavicle in an anger that was not his own. 

Right, right, of course that fucking voidsent he’d made a pact with at far too tender an age would be chagrined by those thoughts–it’d have to find a new, gullible, desperate idiot to make a deal with for its aether fix if Vaile’s body became unusable. If the voidsent wasn’t allowed to die, then don’t think you could get out so easily yourself, Vaile. You deserve to suffer for what you’ve done. Enough! There’s no time for these distracting thoughts, their quarry was steadily getting further and further away. Vaile pushed onward. Another portal jump here, another rooftop vault there, a shimmy down a drain pipe–almost there, almost, his weapon could reach if he got just a bit closer– He was so careful to keep his footsteps light despite the pace, but his target had no reason to keep quiet, and he took his chance to jump down into an alleyway to topple over a crate of empty bottles the first chance he got.  They were close to a tavern now, to the bars and the night markets. People certainly would have heard that, but the question became whether or not a bunch of drunks and tired workers would care. An alleycat could’ve easily made the same noise. 

Vaile surmised that the only reason this target wasn’t yelling his head off already in a bid for safety was that the physical exertion of retreat left him breathless. He saw the heavy clouds of precipitation around his mouth as he huffed and puffed into the chilled evening air. If Vaile were still being smart and cautious, he wouldn’t have chanced it, even with this small window of opportunity available to him. Vaile should have turned away. He should have hid, come up with a new strategy, and tried again another night. They were too close to making a scene at this point, just one curious passerby away from turning this messy. Collateral damage was the worst.  

But he didn’t want to track down this elezen again. He’d be on high alert for a far longer period of time than the client had given him, and he had no other jobs in the queue. If he did it now, then he could still run away and find shelter before morning. 

Vaile liked his chances, but damn was he bad at math. He never did get a formal education. He never claimed to be smart. As Vaile jumped down into the alley to block the elezen’s path, scythe raised up and poised to do its job, a side door leading into the alley slammed open next to him. His arms were already filled with potential energy, and gravity was all too happy to help. A little distraction wasn’t going to stop him from his job, not with a deadly weapon raised like this, and him with his face covered and outfit of all black making him look just as deadly as he was. An adventurer wouldn’t be behaving like this, and he looked nothing like a guard. He couldn’t play this off as anything less than criminal. So he didn’t try to.  Time to be the villain, do the crime. He started swinging, a motion as easy as breathing, and nearly as practiced. A beautiful arc of potential violence. His target, startled by the door, had paused like a frightened rabbit. Perfect. His scythe was right on target. Things hadn’t gone as well as intended, but he could deal with this interloper in a moment– Except he made a mistake. He let his vision wander. Just the tiniest bit, to make sure the person who’d stumbled upon him wasn’t about to stab him down while his flank was wide open. His pact partner was meant to keep him aware, but that wasn’t always reliable. His brain. His stupid, infuriating, piece of shit brain, fucked him over in that moment. His eyes widened in horror, face turning toward the man in the doorway instinctually, even as his arms continued to fall in slow motion. There were a few reasons for his shock. A few unfortunate details he honed in on and couldn’t let go of in time. 

It always came back to him at the most unexpected of times, didn’t it.  

From his peripheral vision, he saw a hyur like him standing in that doorway: slight of frame, short, with a pair of spectacles drooped down low on his nose (was he up late working again? Always toiling away these days, perpetually exhausted and pushing Vaile away more and more by the day. Was he getting sick of him?), and hair pale and soft as freshly fallen snow. He was backlit by flames, with more near his face as well. The fire crept closer, illuminating his eyes with a sickly yellow gleam, a reminder of what Vaile had done, what he was responsible for and too weak to stop. (You need to run! Get away from me! I can’t control myself, I can’t bear to be the one that hurts you!) Logically, Vaile knew it wasn’t him. He kept tabs on the man over the years, once in a blue moon–and he didn’t live anywhere near this city. A closer look would have easily revealed the taste in attire was wrong, the hair too wavy, his eyes the wrong shade of sky. Even after all these years, Vaile would have easily been able to pick out Axel in a sea of people within a few seconds. 

So he knew. This wasn’t him. 

And yet. 

It wasn’t Axel, but Vaile’s body was reacting as though it were. His knees were suddenly shaking, not wanting to disappoint the man yet again. Nervous at being caught. His traitorous damn brain decided to act up on him, now of all times. It screamed at him, transporting him back to that day when the best time of his life came to an end, when he fucked it all up irrevocably and irredeemably. The day he became a monster, and that he never really came back from. Standing here in this alleyway, ready to act as executioner for the juror with the highest bid, he imagined the real Axel standing there. What he would think.  

Axel would never forgive me, if he’d even recognize what I’ve become. I don’t even know how many lives I’ve ended. I don’t feel guilt or remorse like a good person would. Once a monster, always a monster, and nothing could possibly fix me anymore–Axel, once the light of his life, had nearly been snuffed out by his darkness, was nearly consumed by his flame. Axel, fighting for his life, pushing against him, trying valiantly and futilely to hold him at bay and knock some sense into him. Axel, bleeding out on the ground, breathing harshly, soot-stained and wild-eyed. Foolish. So foolish. So beautiful. The man who was too kindhearted and trusting for his own good. A person who made Vaile believe he was capable of love. He never should have taken Vaile in. If they’d never met, at least that would have been one less person Vaile had hurt. Vaile spiraled, repeating those memories again and again in what must have only been half a second, but dragged on for what felt like bells in his mind. Vaile’s claws digging into Axel, baring his fangs in a snarl. Singed clothing and cinders floating in the air as their home was destroyed. The feeling of believing he was dead by his own bloodstained hands. Checking for vital signs, getting him to safety, and leaving forever before he could wake up. Vaile was a coward then, and he’s a coward now. His heart hammered in his chest so hard he feared it’d burst right through and show the world his true ugliness; his lungs refused to expand, locked up as though in a vice. Time sped up again, blessedly, before he could pass out. His scythe connected with flesh, followed by a wet thud on the ground. Right. He’d been in the middle of an assassination. 

And this not-Axel man had just witnessed it all. 

What Vaile needed to do was get rid of the witness, grab the head of his victim and run, run, run. Collect his bounty. Keep on running. Hide. Try not to panic. Probably panic some more anyway. Sleep for a week. Take on more work, forget about this blunder, and do his job well–without getting distracted by any more silver-haired hyuran men.

Unfortunately, those plans were not meant to be. Vaile’s ears began ringing as screams pierced the winter night. Surprisingly and curiously, the hyur next to him was not the source. No, that man’s mouth was agape as he lifted a torch out into the alleyway to get a better look at the scene (Huh, so that was the source of the flame near his face. Silly me.) It seemed this assassination was more of an attempt than a job well done, as his target appeared to still be alive–if the wailing was any indication. Vaile was finally able to tear his gaze away from the hyur, drawn to the loud noise that was absolutely giving his position away to everyone within a one hundred yalm radius. 

This had gone about as sideways as it could, hadn’t it. It was almost funny. 

No, it was funny. Not just funny–it was hilarious! 

Laughter soon bubbled up and joined the screams. A real fun cacophony for these fine folks trying to sleep tonight. Already he could hear even more noise join the din: the clattering of armor approaching, which likely belonged to either guards or adventurers, neither of which boded well for him. His aim had been atrocious, focused as he had been by not-Axel. His arc must have veered to the left when he turned his gaze, because Instead of the elezen’s head on the ground, it was simply the man’s arm. If Vaile was lucky, the elezen may bleed out to death yet, and he could still collect the gil. Signs pointed to no, though, and Vaile was a pessimist these days, so he did not cling to hope for this job. Oh well.

Vaile picked up the arm without thinking, his laughter only growing at the ridiculousness of this situation. It was at that moment that not-Axel must have realized Vaile was truly out of his mind and an easy target right about now, because he shook off his shock and, in a fit of vigilante justice, made to charge for Vaile, to catch him so the guards could arrest him or put him down like a dog. Of course, that wouldn’t do for the voidsent bound to his soul, oh no. This was embarrassing to behold. It was time to intervene. Vaile was in no condition to defend himself, still unable to breathe through his laughing-panicking. The pendant around his neck started glowing, and a voice echoed in his head: 'That’s it! I’m taking over, you incompetent and pitiful excuse for a pact partner! Brace yourself, because this is going to hurt.' Darkness enveloped and erupted out of him, swallowing up the torchlight, moonlight, and streetlamps for a moment, before his form was set ablaze like a roaring ceruleum fire. Brightest pink and blue flames coalesced and licked down his form. His face, hidden by a mask, melted away to reveal the fanged maw of his voidesent partner, who had taken its temporary release from the World of Darkness to pilot this body to safety and grant it a blaze of power. The transformation normally didn’t hurt. It looked gruesome and terrifying, but it usually felt powerful, like the heat of the sun on a hot day, but without the burn. Vaile was still mostly in charge during those times, and he could control the balance of power by now, after years of practice. But his mind was so fractured right now from his minor breakdown, that the voidsent was nearly completely in control. It was quickly burning through their reserve of aether to make them impossibly fast and strong, to help them escape by any means necessary. Every one of his muscles strained and screamed in exertion. His lungs felt like they were going to explode. He certainly got hit with some blows and spells in his bid for freedom, but he had no choice but to keep going thanks to his pact partner’s takeover. Vaile was too weak to stay conscious through it all, fading in and out during their escape. He had no idea if there were any casualties from their escape, and he didn’t intend to find out. It felt like one moment he was leaping away from the scene of his crime, in unbelievable amounts of pain, and the next he was laying on the ground in the middle of the woods, staring up at the sky whose stars were fading into the coming dawn. The elezen’s arm was nowhere to be seen, and his pendant was cold to the touch, unresponsive to prodding or thoughts directed its way. The voidsent had eaten as much aether as possible to get them away from the city. Vaile had only been left enough to keep himself alive, or at least that’s what it felt like. 

He had one of the worst headaches of his life, his body could barely move for all the strain it’d been under, and he couldn’t tell if he was ravenous, thirsty, or desperately needed to be sick. He wished to sleep until the next umbral era.  He was completely hidden in this copse of trees. His pact partner was a bitch, but it was good at hiding and took an interest in keeping Vaile alive, so he knew he’d be safe here. He had enough fire crystals in his pack to keep himself from freezing to death if he slept now without making a fire. His brain and body were so exhausted from that clusterfuck of a job that he was blissfully able to avoid thinking too much about what had happened. About his own mental weakness, his past, or how he was going to get enough gil to keep himself housed and fed for the next few weeks thanks to that job going sour. That could be a problem for future Vaile. 

For present Vaile, it was time to rest, to be at least a little grateful for the voidsent saving his ass, and to steadfastly ignore how much he missed a certain hyur in times like these. He slept alone, as always, just as he liked it. He was able to convince himself of this, just this once, or so he’d tell himself later.