#normalize mentioning your OC's like canon characters without warning

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Here ye, hear ye! I do declare I headcanon

Hobie ALWAYS smells good asf

Without exception.

It's something you can always notice, because every day he smells slightly different. But always good.

It's on purpose.

I mean, look at all his accessories and clothes - he probably has a nightstand piled high with spiked bracelets and studded chokers and silver rings. And right next to his accessories - is his cologne collection.

Some bottles are older, half filled bottles of vintage finds he loves. Others are newer, fancier - ones knicked from high end shops. If he smells it, and likes it, he takes it.

His favorite are the woody, smoky, spiced smells. Like sandalwood or cognac. Things that smell like shag carpets and roaring fireplaces.

Sometimes he may be in the mood for something a bit sweeter, so sometimes he'll of dark chocolate, or maple syrup, or chai.

The most common ones are surprisingly fruity.

Hobie often smells of cherries. Dark, deep maroon cherries, the kind with sweet dark juice. Others, on more playful days - green apple, a little bit tart but still fresh.

I Hc he likes candy too, and is constantly popping jolly ranchers. Sometimes you can hear it when he's eating one, the quiet clacking of it - and the faint scent of blue raspberry, or super sweet watermelon.

When it comes to Spider Senses, I like to think Hobie is a sensory seeker.

He likes loud music and big speakers and heavy, layered clothes. He's likes strong sounds and scents, bright colors, and interesting textures. And cologne is one of his favorite parts of an outfit -

Cause he does consider it just that - apart of the outfit. Don't let Mr.'Cool This Whole Time' fool you - he thinks about outfits. Hobie really enjoys putting them together.

He's actually into fashion - just not in the industrial consumerist way most assume. But he still loves matching pieces, making them, putting together fits. And he never leaves the house without some fragrance.

It REALLY adds to the appeal.

Diane's trying to talk to him about work when they first meet and she's already nervous

and then she's can't help but notice and be like 'oh- WOW, you smell good. Heh. wOW. Sorry. Sorry. I just did not expect you to smell like cherry blossoms-'

'....thanks-'

'oh goodness, wait a minute, that's not it. I - I don't even think I could place that scent-'

She's standing there in the middle of the hall smelling Hobie - train of thought derailed the tracks and rolling down a mountainside, Miguel's work forgotten

Hobie goes 'its jasmine, really. Jasmine and saffron'

Diane's like 'JASMINE AND SAFFRON??? Boy. whatchu know about some Jasmine Saffron!'

Cause how dare he. How dare he be that fine. It's not okay. How can she live her life in these conditions?

She goes to tell Margo like 'Girl!! Did you know Hobie wears cologne?!' and Margo is like

'... Sis I'm not even physically here what makes you think I can smell'

Even Miguel notices after a while.

It's a group meeting, and he's lost in thought as he rambles off another plan, pacing back and forth.

He stops suddenly when something comes to mind.

'Who's that? Whereas that smell coming from? It smells like Horchata in here. Who was drinking Horchata??'

Cause if someone was drinking Horchata he wants some. Undebatable.

Half the room is like what the hell is Horchata???

Miguel's like 'it's cinnamon and rice and vanilla - it's a Mexican drink, alright. WHO WAS DRINKING IT.'

Hobie raises his hand and Miguel's like 'Not now, Brown. We're talking about something important.'

Hobies like 'Bruv it's me. I ain't drink it I just smell like it-'

Of course Miguel is calling bullshit cause he's sure Hobie is fucking with him until he goes over and Miguel's thinking 'oh fuck he does 😳🤨 que diablos???'

But he just looks down at Hobies smug ass face and he's like '.... As you were, 138.' before trying to act like nothing ever happened 😭😭

I think to think Hobie Brown is just That Smooth

The good looks ain't by accident he is BROKE, PUNK, and HIGH MAINTENANCE

[ravennaortiz]

One for Two

Summary:Juice and Scarlett OC post Lost and Found . Juices release from prison and post Jaxs death. Multiple POVS!

As always 18+

Warnings: Character Death, mention of canon events, Implied/ referenced suicide/attempted

Juice was laying on his hard, cold, smelly bunk staring blankly at the peeling paint on the ceiling of his cell. Today for the first time in months his mind was quiet. His impending death tonight at dinner bringing a finality to his racing thoughts and anxiety. He felt oddly calm, almost at peace. In a way he saw this as a way to break free and get back to Scar. Even if it was in spirit form. He could only hope that was how it worked. He could only hope she wouldn’t soon join him.

“Do you wish to make any calls?” inquired Tully his cell mate as he walked back into their cell. Juice simply shook his head before resuming his staring at the bunk above him. He took no notice of Tully watching him for a couple of moments. Words on the edge of his tongue before the other man shook his head and walked back out of the cell.

***

Scarlett was sitting in the living room watching Half and Rat play a game when her phone rang. Glancing at it she saw it was the private line of Ron Tully. Fighting back the tears that were already forming she excused herself and made her way to her and Juice’s bedroom before answering. “hello?” she inquired her voice wavering as she bit her lower lip.

“Tonight.” Stated Ron before the line clicked dead.

Scarlet bit her hand to keep the sobs at bay as she dropped to her knees. Tears flowing fast and hot. Body shaking with sobs as her world once again came crashing down. How could she do this without him? Go on living? What was the point? No one else would ever love her like he did. Understand her like he did.

***

Tully stood silently. His fingers scrolling through the phone contacts. Normally he would not intervene but for some reason the younger Teller had burrowed under his skin. He wouldnt be able to forgive himself if she took her life. And he was sure that was what she would do. Given what Juice and Jax had shared that was the only outcome of this situation. He frowned as Jaxs number came up as disconnected.

***

“Where are mine and Juices weapons?” demanded Scarlett as she stormed into the living room. She had been looking in all the hiding spots and they were all empty. She had even went through Half and Rats room and the kitchen and anything that could even be considered a weapon was gone.

“Put up” replied Half as the guys paused the game. “No more free access. All the pills you had scrounged away are gone too”

“It’s for your own good Scar” stated Rat gently as tears slipped down her cheeks.

“Being dead is what’s good for me!” snapped Scarlet before running back to her bedroom and slamming the door shut.

Juice was sitting eating his pie when Tully sat down across from him. “Just let me finish my pie”

“It’ll be quick” stated Tully as he nodded. His hand tightening around the shank that was covered by the napkin on the table.

Juice nodded his acknowledgment before continue to eat. Once he was done he stood up as did Tully. The other man grabbed Juice and was almost to his neck with the shank when he heard the words German shepherd rang out over and over. Tully dropped the shank letting it clatter to his feet as his eyes met Jax’s Vice President who was panting as he neared them.

“Talk about coming in at the eleventh hour” he muttered as he raised his hand and dismissed his guards.

“Jax pardoned him. I’m taking the laddie home now” stated Chibs firmly. The look in his eyes leaving no room for discussion.

“What is going on” demanded Juice as he looked between the men.

“I told her two hours ago. Someone should probably let her know before she has a chance to do something hasty” stated Tully as Chibs closed his eyes and muttered under his breath.

“What” started Juice again before CHibs cut him off. Yanking his arm as they moved towards the exit.

“No time laddie” stated Chibs groggily as he pulled out his phone to call Halfsack.

Scarlett was nervous as she stood out in the back yard. The odor of gasoline overwhelming as she held the lighter in her hand. She was starting to second guess herself. Of all the ways to die this was probably the worst. There was a chance that Half or Rat would catch her before she was dead and then she would probably linger in pain for days.

“What do you mean shes not here?” demanded Chibs as he stood in Scarlett and Juice’s living room. Rat and Half both rushing to speak, explaining they had put all the weapons up and such. She had been in the garage organizing and came back to the kitchen to organize it. Then to her room they thought.

“Wait she went to the garage?” stated Juice as he made his way to the kitchen. His eyes zeroing in on the open junk drawer. The lighter she got him gone, the tin it was in on the counter. Fuck he thought as he caught movement out the back window.

Scarlett had no idea what happened. One moment she was standing. Lighter in her hand ready to open. The next she was lying face down in the dirt. A heavy weight on top of her. Her right wrist ached terribly from the grip on it. She fought to get the weight off her.

“Easy Scar its me. Its me baby girl” stated Juice soothingly as tears slipped down his cheeks. His grip on her wrist loosening so that he could toss the lighter away from them. “It is just me. I’m here. Everything is okay” he continued until he felt her relax under him. His heart aching when she sobbed his name. Letting her up she wrapped around him. His shirt soaking up the excess gasoline that she was soaked in.

“Jax is dead” repeated Scarlett as she sat on the couch freshly showered and wrapped in a blanket as Juice held her close. Chibs nodded as she looked at him.

“I’m sorry Lassie. His last wish was to make things right between you guys. He wanted you to read this when you are ready.” He stated as he held a sealed envelope out to her. “The club and I will take care of everything.”

[hyperfixingfr]

Making this post a little late but for the normal people in the fandom beware of posts from cerberus253 because they're an unironic Father defender and has tried claiming he isn't that bad of a bad guy and is just a hurt soul in a "forgive him he's innocent!" kind of way. You know... Father, the child abuser, the child murderer, the bigot who has prejudiced viewpoints and is basically confirmed to be racist, misogynistic, etcetc. They're also posting highly sexual content in relation to Father: not just innuendos or mild mentions because I can see that being okay but outright declaring fantasies about them wanting stuff with a fascist dude. I felt I'd warn about them because it appears they come and go from this fandom sometimes and I don't want any abuse victims in the fandom who are triggered by this deranged glorification of a child abuser to be triggered when looking in the tags. They're a lost cause, trust me, they've been deleting comments from anyone who tries to tell them it's weird LOL. I don't usually criticize the terms people use on themselves regarding their diagnosis but in this case I'm not surprised that the person who calls themselves an "aspie" is purposely ignoring the actual canon character traits of a bigot just to lust for him

Again, I sigh every time I see this... "Fictional characters" me all you want but going for the genuine piece of crap who is incredibly prejudiced, likes hitting children for fun, and was intended to be an allegory to rich oppressors instead of the 50 or so villains -- hell, even just adults -- who are evil but not in a genuinely malicious or realistic way tells me tons. Your OCs can like him, but you *genuinely* liking him beyond his appearance... Remind me to never let you become a CPS worker. To my selfshippers who aren't really weird and don't have problematic F/Os (hope I got the term right) I love you and I support you, keep up the good work. For the selfshippers who are really weird and have a problematic F/O something tells me you're going to get yourself into a toxic relationship soon and I don't think I'm gonna have sympathy for you when it happens given you've defended and romanticized it in the past without any care on how these people or their behaviors/traits impact life. Maybe then you'll learn, I guess. Not saying you deserve it... I just see it coming.

For the people who read this far here's Nigel getting strangled for some reason... Release my boy he only did 30 things wrong

[phighting-totnl-ask-blog]

"Welcome to Inpherno."

First of all, there are some BIG TWs!!! Being: Violence, past Trauma, HEAVY GORE, Mental health themes(a lot of the characters are HEAVILY traumatized), Mentions of religion(Church of the True Eye fucking existing.), NSFW stuff (gore, heavy language, sexual, ect.) Horror themes, past/implied abuse, religious trauma(Again, THE CHURCH OF THE TRUE EYE), bad parenting, torture(Most of the stuff past this point is later down the line), mistreatment of others, stalking, obsession, near death experiences, murder, visual horror on some sprites, torture mentions, heavy grief in some characters, mentions of stuff like implied alcoholism, parent death mention, mentions of SA, and death.

RULES:

-NO MINORS. THIS IS FOR MOD HUNTER'S COMFORT AND THERE’S SHIT THAT KIDS SHOULD NOT BE SEEING. THIS IS A 17+ BLOG. ANY MINORS WHO ARE DISCOVERED WILL BE BLOCKED WITHOUT HESITATION.

-Don't throw a hissy fit if a character is rude to you.

-BE NORMAL ABOUT POLY RELATIONSHIPS, I BEG.

-Some characters here are straight. Some are gay. Fucking deal with it, don't throw a hissy fit about it.

-Be patient with ships! They may not appear at first, but they will appear in due time! <3

-Subspace is a trigger warning himself, so, uhhh. Mod Hunter makes him super fucked up. Be warned. Don't whine.

-Please don’t try to introduce characters into the universe. The characters may recognize your username if it comes up a lot, but otherwise, all asks will be just “messages” for them.

-DO NOT FORCE SHIPS. SOME SHIPS EXIST, OTHERS DON’T, SUCK IT UP, BUTTERCUP.

-If you want us to tag something a certain way, DM us and we will try our hardest. DO NOT ABUSE THIS.

- This is an AU, so this is OUR TAKE on a story in the Phighting universe, Please respect this.

- Also! If a character is dead, they’re DEAD. What we say about a character’s mortality goes.

-This is a mature story. It'll contain mature topics. Read the trigger warnings and read accordingly.

-This features OCs. Don't like, don't read. Thanks.

-This heavily features OC x Canon. Don't like, fuck off. Cope, seethe.

-NO TRANSPHOBIA, APHOBIA, OR LGBTQIA+ PHOBIA IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.

-IF YOU'RE A RECURRING ASKER, PLEASE NAME YOURSELF. IT HELPS MOD HUNTER BE ABLE TO KEEP TRACK OF PEOPLE. 

- There are 2 mods, one of those mods doesn't take people's shit, and will act rude to you if provoked, you have been warned. 

- This was made out of the Mods' love for this game, don’t ruin it for us, thanks.

-Follow the rules. Please, for the love of God, follow the rules. 

-THIS HAS BEEN IN THE WORKS FOR A WHILE NOW ON AND OFF. BE FUCKING RESPECTFUL, HOLY SHIT.

-DO NOT BE UPSET WHEN A CHARACTER REACTS POORLY WHEN YOU PROD THEM TOO MUCH. USE COMMON SENSE.

-SOME CHARACTERS ARE MORALLY GRAY. CHARACTERS/PEOPLE ARE COMPLEX. DEAL WITH IT.

-Some sessions focus on some characters more than others. You can still ask others stuff, but the ones who are the main focus will be priority.

-Will add as needed.

Love Mod Bee and Mod Hunter

EXTRA: Main blogs are: 

Bee's: @horror-beeings-artandwriting

Hunter's: @hunter-the-sad-skeleton

Mod pronouns:

Bee: She/her (co owner)

Hunter: He/him (MAIN OWNER)

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Forty - Still Here

“Why should I trust anything you say?” I asked. “Because I’m the only one willing to be honest with you.”

10.7k words | 40 min/1 hour read time | TRIGGER WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, canon typical bad trip, death mention, unreality, hallucinations, fucky wucky stuff.

⚠ AUTHOR'S NOTE: A year. This person has been so patient that they have been waiting a year for this, while everything around me sorta fell apart. And I hope I did his character justice, because @neverdewitt created such an amazing, intriguing character that I couldn't resist fitting them into my fic the moment I knew about them. Originally, Garrett was the only OC that was going to be in Erosion, long before anyone else was due to join—because of course I needed a cryptic little shit stirrer, and who better than from one of the most creative writers I know? Doot, thank you for letting me steal your baby and for waiting for so long for this moment, I don't know where I'd be without your aid throughout the last year on the bits of fic I could do. Your patience is admirable, your creativity is absolutely transcendent beyond anything I could ever hope to make, and I'm glad I finally made something I feel can actually stand in the shadow of your character and not flinch in shame.

Also, thanks @conduiitz for the picture! I gave her a 500 word sneak peak and she made this pic in like, 47 mins lol. Maybe...you should keep your eyes out too...

The world swam. Sound dilated and then became this obnoxious ringing, my vision sorta blurred until it was nothing but blue-white hot, and for three seconds I felt like I was going to explode.

My stomach lurched, and I felt like I was falling in the same way I would when I was on the verge of sleep. That weird, heart stuttering sensation of being fully on the ground and yet feeling like it would open up from under me. I stumbled with it, falling backwards, trying to catch myself and instead feeling like my hands were weighed down with lead.

My head snapped back and hit hard flooring, sending stars into my vision that I struggled to blink away. “What the hell,” I groaned, flinching; the bright, fluorescent lights overhead did nothing for the concussion I’m sure was settling into my mind, making my vision pulse. I moved to block my face and instead nearly hit myself with that leaded feeling that hadn’t faded away—and felt way too real in my hands to just be residual of...whatever happened to me. I blinked the blurriness out of my eyes to see what the hell was caught on my hands, blood running cold when I saw what it was.

Cuffs. Big, gaudy yellow cuffs, nearly the size of my head and six times as heavy. They encased my entire hand and went well past my wrists, leaving me to struggle to pull them away without being able to bend them as I stared at my hands.

My first question, of course, was why my cast was gone—and why did my arm not hurt in its absence? But that curiosity left the moment I realized I knew the symbol on the cuffs as my vision cleared: Department of Unified Protection.

“What?” I breathed. I ignored the hammering in my head to get to my knees, blinking hard to force my eyes to focus past the pulsing in my vision’s edges. For a second, all I could see was steel, and I had that fleeting hope that there was just some weird shit going on and Brent was right there—but as my vision became clearer, I could see the cracks and pores in the wall. That wasn’t metal. That was rock.

That was concrete.

I tried turning into humidity. Tried rushing away on a pulse of water and maybe, hopefully, the cuffs would fall off—but no; they stayed on tight, and I stayed normal. I couldn’t use my powers at all. No, no—this couldn’t be right! The DUP fell years ago, what the hell was I doing in a cell?

I looked around, beginning to hyperventilate. Okay, okay. This had to be something else, right? I just needed to get it together. I tried steadying my breathing as I took in my surroundings fully; four walls, all glass, tinted to the point where I saw my reflection looking around wildly instead of anything beyond them. A platform bed and a shitty sheet, a singular pillow. There was a desk, a couple papers on them with scribbles of owls and doves and…and the Archangel symbol?

I stepped closer to the desk, tentatively, like I was scared the drawing made with a golf pencil was going to jump out of the paper and choke me to death. It was different compared to the one on Augustine’s little tracker; this one was lined and curved like the Vitruvian Man, but it was, without a doubt, the Archangel symbol. Still holding that same dodecahedron, the shine in its center now reminding me far too much of the Ray Sphere.

How…how was this here? How was I here? I felt like some animal in a cage at a zoo, left out to be ogled at from the other side of a glass I couldn’t see through. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. This couldn’t be the tar again, right? Was I having another weird hallucination? Wolfe’s notes said something about the Vermaak going insane. God, that was it, wasn’t it? I was going insane—

“Augustine escaped?”

I froze, all panic leaving with the cold rush, head on a swivel as I looked around. I was…I was the only one in the cell, so where the hell was that voice coming from? “Hello?” I tried to ask, the sound coming out like a mouse squeak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Who’s there?”

“Augustine.” The voice said, more serious this time. It floated, had this sorta airiness to it that would have calmed me in literally any other situation—but here, it was just freaking me out more. “You said she injured you. Did she escape?”

I caught a flash of something I shouldn’t have—pink. There, in the reflection of the tinted glass, was a long streak of pink…something.

Oh god. Not again. “Mom?”

I stepped closer to the glass, the image—what should have been my reflection—doing so in turn. Only it wasn’t my reflection. That wasn’t me at all. It was too tall, too fair and skinny to be me. There was no orange jumpsuit, but a cream knit cardigan over a plain green silky shirt, bright and plush long pink hair pulled up into a ponytail. I squinted, trying to make out features, and it wasn’t till I stepped closer that their face came into full view.

The pink hair was different, but that face, the sharp features and those eyes, were the same. “Y-you’re—” How was this possible? It was them. Younger, actually cognitive, but them. “You’re t-that person in the bed, back in the hospital room. Garrett.”

They didn’t respond, their eyes instead looking around the cell. “Sorry for the mess,” they said. “I don’t have much….control over any of this anymore. Not since my condition has gotten worse.”

They acted like this was a living room with old pizza boxes stacked to the roof, not…this. Whatever this was. But one thing was for sure; they were doing this. “How are you doing th—”

“You never answered my question.”

I blinked. “I—she did. Or, well, someone broke her out but we’re…we don’t know who.”

A thousand emotions crossed their face; regret, fear, some sort of dejection. “What happened to her?”

I hesitated; what do you say to someone who spent who knows how long trapped by Augustine? “She’s gone.” I decided to say, reassuring them. “My d—, Delsin Rowe and Eugene Sims dealt with her, after she—.”

“Attacked Salmon Bay again.” Their eyes fell, head slightly nodding as they swallowed whatever distaste that statement left in their mouth. They…I thought letting them know she was gone would comfort them—so why did they look so sad?

“You…” I drew off, concerned. “You heard?”

“I saw it.”

I thought they meant television. Logically, how would someone see Augustine’s assault in Washington from the other side of the country? But there was a familiar sound behind me, that grand roar of rushing water, and I turned in time to see the glass of the opposite wall shift.

The reflected imagery moved, the dark tint of the glass bubbling up until it looked like an angry sea, something far beyond the glass churning. It took me far too long to realize that I was looking at the whirlpool, my whirlpool, that I made to fight Augustine from the marina in Seattle. God, was it really that big?

“She’s going to come out,” Garrett’s voice rang. I looked back to glance at them, only to see them staring at the ground, mouth shut. The room echoed with their pained gasps of a past statement. “Augustine, she’s…I saw her free. Out in the world, a whirlpool behind her.”

“When?” Another voice, lower and more scratchy, asked.

“I don’t know,”

“I knew it would happen one day. I just…I never would have thought it would be you, Regina.”

The hairs on my neck stood up on end, and I slowly turned to look at Garrett. “How do you know my name?” I didn’t use my full name when I introduced myself to them. I never do.

Garrett inhaled deeply before looking up, blinking back tears and deciding now was the perfect time to ignore my question. “She called me Dream Eater, when she placed me here,” they said, looking through the reflection and around the cell I was in with a disgusted look on their face. “This…terrarium of a cell. One always names their favorite pets, and I wasn’t exempt from that rule.”

My brow furrowed. “This was…your cell?” I asked, looking around the bleak room. A bed, a desk, and tinted glass you could barely see through. This was it?

I knew Curdun was a prison, but jeez.

"In the end." Garrett confirmed. "She couldn't bear looking at me for what she'd done, but couldn't cut me loose. We were stuck with each other with no way out."

“Do…you mean the implant?” I asked cautiously, looking back at Garrett. I hated how much that haunted stare seemed to follow anyone I met, echoes of trauma that hovered on the crows feet of their eyes.

“In part,” Garrett confirmed. “Though there’s more, much more, to the story than what you know.”

Well, good, because I didn’t know a thing. 

But they mentioned it—the implant. Dr. Hutch was able to confirm that was the cause of all these issues. “Whatever she did to you, she did to me,” I said, taking a step closer to the glass. Garrett’s form didn’t get closer in time with my steps; did it mean they were here, with me? Or was all of this an illusion? “I—I can’t heal anymore. The tar—”

“Tar?” Garrett questioned, brow furrowing.

“She was using concrete and tar,” I continued. The words meant something to them, I had to keep pushing. “We don’t know where she got the power from, she…she was working with this new group, Archangel.” I moved over to the desk, using the heavy cuffs to stab at the chest of their symbol. “These guys. The tar made me sick, and the doctor confirmed it made you sick too. There has to be something you know about them, right?”

Garrett’s eyes met mine, the lingering wet in them making their blue glisten until it reminded me of the sea. They held my gaze for a long time, seeming to weigh my begging against some sort of hesitance in their mind as they thought deeply. “You said she was collaborating with someone?”

“They’re called Archangel.” I informed them. “We know…well, nothing about them. Nothing beyond the fact that they want D—, Delsin Rowe. What’s wrong with me? It was meant for him. Augustine was sent to find him.” Garrett’s eyes fell and they sighed deeply, and I begged once more. “You’ve gotta know something. Anything.” I pleaded.

“I don’t—”

“Please.”

Garrett closed their eyes, forcing a deep breath. Something in their resolve seemed to break, and when their head raised, they seemed weighed down by everything, like their secrets were physically pulling their shoulders till they slouched. “There’s too much you don’t know,” They repeated, stressed the fact as something in them came to a resolve. “And we don’t have very long before I lose control again. You’d make a better witness than a listener.”

A better witness? What did that mean?

I didn’t get to ask them. The fluorescent lights above flickered, and in the millisecond of dark that washed over us Garrett vanished, leaving me to stare at my wide-eyed expression.

“Wh—” my heart dropped as I sputtered, looking around. Trying to catch a glimpse of them in the reflections. “Hello?”

They were nowhere.

And I was still somehow in a Curdun Cay cell.

“No,” I choked out, stepping close enough to the glass that my breath fogged it. “No, come on! You can’t just leave me here!”

Well, it seemed they could—and did,­ as they didn’t reappear despite my begging. I waited, called out their name a few times, pleaded to be released from whatever hell this was before tears bubbled up with the frustration in my chest and I raised my cuffs to bang against the glass. “Don’t leave me here!” I screeched, hitting it again. And again. And again.

With the third hit came a subtle, sharp crunch, a crack appearing where the cuffs landed. I stared at the little chip in the tint; it…it couldn’t be that easy, right? This was a cell, one that held back a lot more powerful Conduits than me.

But it was a better alternative to staying here and crying.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself, nodding slowly. I flexed my arms—I wasn’t Brent, but maybe I didn’t need super strength. Just good aim and a decent hit. Let’s hope those 12 years of gymnastics actually paid off.

I brought my cuffed hands around like an axe to a tree, hitting the crack and cringing as the glass and metal on my hands collided, screaming their protests at the impact. But that wasn’t important. What did matter was the crack deepened, chipped away glass falling to my feet as fissures spread like spider webs.

I brought my arms back and swung again, less hesitation in the hit as I watched the cracks spread further. It was working! I kept hitting the wall with resolve, putting all my strength into every swing. The fissures grew, becoming clefts, cracks, then gaps as I slammed my hands against the glass with everything I had, the wall becoming a reflective mosaic.

I put everything, everything, into my last swing and the glass exploded, giving away into a brilliant crystalline rain. My cuffs kept their momentum and I flew forward with them, losing my balance and tumbling.

There was this weird…pull in the back of my head, like those strains I’d get during migraines when I moved wrong, and suddenly my hands were flying forward to catch me—uncuffed—landing in the shattered glass of the cell wall. I winced as it dug into my palms—my exposed palms, the right still missing its cast—before remembering I should be on high alert. I just broke out of a Curdun Cay cell. I knew nothing about the DUP save for the fact that I wasn’t really interested in confronting them. So I ignored the pain, rushing to stand and faltering once I looked around.

This…this wasn’t Curdun. It definitely tried to look like it, with concrete crawling up the walls like vines and a long DUP banner over a widely spread security system made of what had to be 18 different monitors. I would have been inclined to call it Curdun if the colorful tile I was standing on wasn’t laid in a way to say Sea 6 News, the familiar banner of the news site a large testament to the area.

How did I get here?

“I think, in her own, convoluted way,” Garrett’s voice rang out, “Augustine was truly convinced everything she did was for the greater good.” The center console of the multi-television security set-up flickered, going from DUP orange to static before Garrett formed in the pixelation, looking at me from across the room. “Despite everything, she wanted safety for Conduits. To save them from being pinned as the monsters the world claimed they were.”

I had to resist rolling my eyes. Augustine? Being benevolent? “She…she tortured Eugene Sims. She tried to wipe out the Akomish, twice. She broke your power. I don’t think that’s saving anyone,” I eventually said.

“No, it isn’t.” Garrett agreed. “But that didn’t make her conviction any less sure.”

It came in like a haze, the dim light above bending and refracting on the tile. The pulsing rose, the air shifting like it would with Dr. Sims’ video powers only somehow more…ethereal. Pristine. Like magic only a god could perform. The shimmering took shape, settling into wrinkled clothing and pained expressions until they were mere feet away from me, laying on the ground and gasping like they both just had the wind knocked out of them. “Seven years, I’ve kept them safe. Me!” Augustine gasped, “I won’t let anyone undo that. Not the government—” she winced, “Not the Army. Not you.”

This was the woman I was familiar with from the history books and old articles; a long overcoat with that emblem pasted on her arm, leathery boots to match. There were a few hairs knocked loose from her immaculate bun, but not a frayed white one was in sight. She was orderly, commanding—none of what I met in Salmon Bay.

They both fought to move from their place, him being the first to rise to an elbow. Dad. Delsin Rowe. It was him in his youth, his prime, his legacy, the white hoodie stained at the cuffs with blood that definitely wasn’t his, beanie askew. His expression…god, I haven’t seen fury like that from him before. Deep bags under his eyes, face barely flinching despite the obvious pain he was in as he tried to shift. “Seven years, all you’ve done is keep them locked up.” He growled with bared teeth like a wolf, breathing hard. “You just took away their freedom.”

Augustine managed to prop herself up and began pushing back towards a slab of concrete on the ground, leaning against it. “So tell me,” she hummed, “What would you do? Just throw open the gates at Curdun Cay station? Set them all free?”

“Is this…” I drew off, voice barely above a whisper. There was no way. “Is this what happened?” This had to be an illusion. It couldn’t be anything else. “How are you doing this?”

“You bet your ass I would,” Dad hissed, moving to his knees and trying to stand, immediately losing his balance.

“Consciousness.” Garrett responded to me, like that answered my question. But then they caught my confused glance, and elaborated. “Thought, dream, memory—that’s my power. Anything that falls between the folds of your mind is mine to play with, and I’ve kept every memory I’ve gained from those who used my power. That’s what you’re seeing here.”

A memory.

“The world hasn’t changed in the past seven years,” Augustine retorted, using the concrete to pull herself up. “Inside, the Conduits are safe. They’re alive.” She gasped out in pain, rising to her feet and staggering back a step before forcing herself to stand tall. “You turn them out, they’d all be dead inside a week.”

Dad fell again, face screwed up in pain and fury as he grit his teeth so hard it looked like they’d shatter under the bite force. That pain looked real, so intense that it somehow made me flinch, the twinge crawling around my jaw and to the back of my head, forcing me to screw my eyes shut. My head throbbed with each beat of my heart and I raised my hands to press against my temples in an effort to ward off the pain—but when I moved my hand, it was laden down with…well, something. There was a small jingle that sang in my ear and I forced my eyes open, blinking in shock when I saw…a chain?

I was suddenly there, lying on the ground just a mere yard in front of Augustine, in the place Dad was years ago as Augustine glared down at him. “So tell me,” she demanded, authority leaking back into her voice. “Who’s the savior, and who’s the monster?”

She backed away slowly as I tried to stand, feeling every ounce of whatever was trying to drag Dad down originally. Was I in his body? Or simply standing where he did?

I felt like shit. My head was throbbing, my stomach threatened to flip on itself. Bile crept up my esophagus and burned the back of my throat. What was worse was the muscle weakness—every joint in my body screamed as I tried to pull myself up. Last time I felt this ill…Dad had taken my power.

Garrett’s voice rang out again, face slowly coming into view the further away Augustine moved. “At every turn, Augustine was handed impossible choices and was expected to make the most diplomatic decision as if she wasn’t toeing the line between satan and savior.”

My knees nearly gave out under me and I forced them to straighten, breathing hard like I had jogged the stairwell all the way here instead of magically appearing on the top floor of a tower that had been torn down years ago. Garrett’s television stayed strong, the only one that illuminated the back of Augustine until she disappeared into the shadows, arms wide in challenge.

“She—” I cut off, stumbling forward slightly when my ankle refused to cooperate. I fixed myself, straightening and meeting Garrett's nonplussed gaze once more. “She wanted to keep the Conduits locked up. She was mad at D-Delsin for wanting to release them all from prison.” I looked at them vehemently. “To release you from prison. I don't see how keeping everyone locked up was an impossible decision.”

Garrett kept their mild, annoyingly all-knowing gaze on me. “It was diplomacy,” Garrett said. “The only way to make sure every Conduit in the country wouldn't be hunted for sport was to hide them away. Out of sight, out of mind—and out of reach. Somewhere the world could forget about them, and she could protect them from their wrath.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the stomach flips, the fact that I was somehow standing in as Dad, or that I was plain exhausted with life up to that point—but I refused to accept that.

“She staged everything to keep Conduits under her control.” I said, shaking my head. “The breakout on Akomish land? Using my mom’s trauma to use her for her narrative and scare the country into thinking they needed her? She scared the world into thinking Conduits were monsters and she was the only one that could save them.”

“She tried her best, with what tools were provided to her,” Garrett stressed, a bit of tension in their voice. Augustine’s silhouette disappeared into the shadows, leaving a clear line of vision between Garrett and I. “After the Beast, the only tools at her disposal to protect both sides was to play into the fear of one.”

“And jail the other?” I demanded. Sorry, I know that they were trying to give me answers—but this wasn’t the sort of answer I was looking for. I wasn’t interested in hearing about how Augustine cared about others oh so much, not when my family was full of scars from her doing. I wasn’t convinced. “Torture them? Experiment on them?”

“Don’t speak on things you don’t understand—“

“Implant stuff in them to stop their powers?” I continued, stressing the point as I looked directly at Garrett. “She cared about no one! Not the public, not the Conduits—I don’t understand why you’d think she’d feel any differently o-or defend her. She didn’t care about the Conduits. Not Fetch Walker, not Delsin Rowe. Not you, or any of the others—“

“Enough.”

My words seemed to strike a nerve with Garrett as they barked out. The demand was simple, but their voice reverberated through the room loudly, a commanding tone that made me press my hands to my ears at their decibel. Ahead, on the television screen, Garrett inhaled deeply, before saying, “Augustine was always a complicated woman, and there were many times throughout my life I never understood why she did what she did. But she wasn’t a monster.”

I slowly lowered my hands, looking up at the screen as Garrett’s eyes closed and they tried to repress the pain of their thoughts. Throughout my life. “You…” I drew off, trying to do the math; if they were in their late thirties or forties now, and knew Dad, there was a chance they spent 7 years in Curdun. 7 unknown years, where I already knew could’ve been spent either experimenting on them...or training them. “You worked for her, didn’t you? That’s why you act like you know her so well.”

Garrett hesitated, eyes opening—and even then, their eyes didn’t meet mine. “I did more than work for her,” they said.

I opened my mouth to ask what they meant when the screen holding their face glitched out, the corrupted pixelation growing to the corners of the center monitor and spreading beyond, shifting the screen of each surrounding monitor until they all warped like there were magnets pressed against their screens. The corruption reached to the end of the edges of the monitor setup, the clouded colors not fully reaching the plastic of the monitors themselves and instead looking like a portal to another dimension as the hues within its window began to warp.

Outlines. Distorted sounds that slowly lost its electronic fry as the picture deepened. The crisp laughter of children, the harsh ring of carnival music. The woosh of the pendulum ride they passed as their features focused, features illuminated by the lights of the rides around them.

There was a man turned away from the screen, the ends of his slightly grayed hair scuffing against the collar of his jean jacket, and I nearly called out to him, expecting Dad. Wanting it to be Dad. But it wasn’t, not my Dad at least; the man turned, moving to grab the hand of someone else and pull them forward, a child that barely reached his chest’s height. Their auburn-brown hair bounced as the duo rushed towards a funhouse, their little legs easily keeping up with the slight catch in the man’s gait as the camera moved forward with them, watching the duo escape into the mirror maze of the funhouse before following.

The camera turned the corner to see the young child and their father playing in front of those warped mirrors that made them wrinkle in on themselves, both laughing. “How do we go back to that, Garrett?” a voice, a very familiar voice that was uncomfortably soft, asked over the low hum of the carnival and the laughter. The kid looked over at the camera and held out a hand, beckoning them closer, mirth lighting up their silvery blue eyes as a larger, older hand came to grasp theirs and allowed themselves to be pulled forward in front of the mirror. “We were closer then than we are now.”

The mother, Augustine, laughed as she looked at her distorted form before taking the child close into a hug, looking down at them. “There is no going back,” Garrett’s voice said, melancholic and yet tense. The father joined the trio, raising a handheld camera to take a picture. “That died with Dad.”

The camera flashed, light overtaking the glimpse at the memory until the white imprinted on every terminal and made them all flash before they turned dark, plunging the room into darkness save for what bleed in through the broken skylight. Realization overtook me, and I suddenly felt really unsafe.

“The world isn’t black and white. It’s a technicolor of hypocrisy, and I think you’d find our stories to be more similar than they are different.” Their voice rang from the shadows. “I am not innocent.” The televisions suddenly sputtered on, all of them, the sudden brightness from their feed blinding me. I blinked a few times, raising my hand and trying to look past the brightness to their screens, heart stopping when I did; everything, every screen, was about the flood in Seattle. The deaths, the loss, the bodies and fear. Kids being pulled out of water, thousands stranded on the open air top floor of a parking garage, floating corpses. Below the screens Augustine stood, back so illuminated I couldn’t see her front as she approached, just the outlined silhouette. “You will not be,” Garrett continued, the voice sounding…closer?

I lowered my hand, moving to a defensive stance as Augustine closed the gap; I wasn’t gonna be caught off guard. Not here, not now. But as she got closer, I realized that something was…off. She was definitely shorter than I remembered, and her gait was less ‘commandeering’ than before. Each step brought her closer to the light the hole in the skylight cast on us and once she crossed it, I saw why it didn’t seem like her. It wasn’t her.

Garrett stood across from me, Augustine’s uniform perfectly tailored to fit them, pink hair up in a tight bun. “A life is made of wrongs we inherit.”

I stood where Dad had years ago, across from the heir to the wrongs Augustine wrought. “You’re her child,” I breathed, sure they could hear my voice despite how low it was. “Augustine. You’re her kid.”

Here I was, caught in some insane memory-mind palace with the child of the woman who my father had just finished dealing with for the second time. Completely at their mercy. But they had also been at Augustine’s mercy, and she left them with scars that left them crippled back outside of their mind and within it.

“By blood.” Garrett confirmed, moving around me like they were sizing me up, now that we were meeting in person—or whatever this version of in person was. “Though not by much else. The daughter she never got, the son she never wanted. The child she didn’t need.”

They stopped somewhere behind me, and I resisted the urge to spin on my heel and keep them in my vision. Here I was at the mercy of Augustine’s hidden child, standing in the same place where my father took down their mother—and they very well could settle some scores if they wanted.

But this also didn’t feel like that. It felt less like a cat cornering a mouse and more like a bird leading another to shelter under a palm leaf during a storm. My eyes fell as I processed that, blinking hard when I noticed I was not only standing in Dad’s place, but an exact mirror of him; that jean vest, the hoodie. The blood on my hands. My fist tensed around the end of the chain it held, the press of its cool metal prompting me to ask, “Why should I trust anything you say?” I asked.

“Because I’m the only one willing to be honest with you.” Garrett stressed behind me, their voice seeming to carry off the cool rush of the A/C vents. “Unabashedly. No more half-truths. No more having to wonder what’s been kept from you.” Their steps echoed, and I turned my head to look at them the moment they appeared in my peripheral as they rounded, only pausing when they were directly ahead. Garrett’s head tilted ever so slightly, and they asked, “Aren’t you tired of being lied to?”

God, I was. I absolutely was; with everything that’s happened in the last month, I felt like I was drowning. Everything was either some new revelation that made me feel stupid for the fact that I hadn’t realized it before, or was something that was the fallout of a fact that happened years ago that I didn’t have all the facts to.

But I didn’t say anything; I kept my eyes on Garrett’s, refusing to back down. A part of me, the logical part, told me this was all some sort of trap that’d earn me more ice picks in my back, if not worse.

But then again, I was already trapped in some manipulated echo of a memory, so logic wasn’t the strongest suitor in the room, right now.

I looked at Garrett—at their uniform. The same DUP emblem on the cuffs I had on just moments ago sat proudly on their shoulder instead of shackling them like they had at some point. And yet after everything, they insisted Augustine—their mother—was trying her best to save Conduits. “Why do you vouch for her?” I finally asked. “After everything she did to Conduits, to you, why…”

Garrett shrugged simply, eyebrow cocking a bit. “I figured you’d understand, considering who you inherited your sins from. Tell me—is Delsin still running away from the truth?”

I immediately bristled. How could they even pretend that my dad and Augustine were the same? He ran away to protect Brent and I. “That’s different,” I insisted, voice cold.

“Is it?”

My mouth opened, but I struggled to find a good retort. There were definitely a lot of people that thought Dad was some sort of demon for doing what he did, releasing the Conduits. And Mom...well, her body count was higher than mine.

Garrett’s face stayed stoic, and in the stare, I saw Augustine in the contours of their shape, echoes of their mother in their features; but beyond it, I saw melancholy. Grief. They seemed to struggle to find what to say for a moment before closing their eyes, inhaling deeply. “You want to know why I thought Augustine cared about Conduits?” They finally asked, opening their eyes and meeting mine, stare unblinking. I snapped my mouth shut and nodded silently. Better not to piss off someone who could hold the secret to your rare cancer in their memory bank. “I watched her make sure the mistakes that nearly killed us all would never end up in the hands of someone who could repeat the process. She loved order, and the world the RFI left behind was lawless.”

My brow furrowed. “So you know about the RFI?” I thought Dad and Zeke said the RFI was something kept quiet so no one would try to make another Conduit Delete button.

“She destroyed anything about it after the RFI was analyzed by the DUP’s science division.” Garrett responded with assurance, “She vowed our extinction wouldn’t happen twice.”

What? Augustine…deleted info about a weapon that strong? “You say that like you’re sure,” I drew off.

Garrett’s chin came up a bit. “I am. I was there.”

The security monitors behind Garrett suddenly booted up, stark white and emitting a horrible mic callback sound that made my hands shoot to my ears to block out the terrible grating noise, unable to keep it from vibrating my skull. I cringed with the noise, eyelids pink as they screwed shut to protect me from the sudden onslaught of light and I tried to push against the way it all made my head pound. I felt like a migraine was coming on.

But then it all stopped. That screech faltered, the pink left my vision for a more muted white, and my head found relief as I tentatively opened my eyes.

There were still security screens in front of me, but that was about as far as the similarities lied; there were less of them, the feed no longer showing off corners of Seattle’s downtown but dark crevices of what almost looked like a cave, if there weren’t vents and weird heaters and more concrete. The wall they were pinned to was this sleek darkened stone, wires running from the monitors down to their supply feeds below in zipping, jagged lines that reminded me way too much of how some cheesy Hollywood villain would decorate their lair.

Unfortunately, though, I wasn’t too far off.

I backed up, trying to put every screen in my vision to puzzle piece whatever concrete maze was in front of me when my knees hit the edge of something, and I nearly fell backwards. I turned, my hands shooting out in front of me and looking for purchase to balance—

And instead I pushed myself backwards as I saw who was standing in front of me.

She looked even younger than before, uniform gone and instead replaced with army fatigues with a leaf at her shoulders, a rank higher than anything I knew from the military segment of my APUSH class. Didn’t the DUP start as an army thing before becoming its own branch? This must have been Augustine when she was Lieutenant Colonel, not Director. Augustine’s eyes fell and my blood ran cold as I thought she zeroed in on me and was going to make it my problem—but she instead reached forward, hands coming around something and bringing it up to eye level.

It was broken, the top panel of the device blown clean off and revealing the veins of wires underneath its metal welding. The center of it was glass but unclean, grime and dirt and what looked like blood dried on it and taking away its transparency. There was this branching darkness on the metal, burns singed into it like veins, the edges of every panel rusted over and smelling like the blood of the deaths it caused.

“Is that it?” Someone else in the room asked. I pushed myself up from my place on the ground, shifting to my knees and peeking over the edge of the table like some strange sort of meerkat trying not to get caught by the adder outside of its hole in an effort to see who was talking to Augustine.

They were young—looked younger than me, which was saying a lot—their hair shaggy and close cropped, a brighter auburn than it was in the hospital room back in reality. Their eyes were dim against the bright yellow shirt I’d yet to see on any Curdun prisoner before—the same uniform I realized I was wearing to match.

Garrett. Child Garrett. Were they really in Curdun before they were even an adult?

“The Ray Field Inhibitor,” Augustine confirmed, turning with the device in hand. She held it less like the nuke it was and more like a scythe. “Every life lost…every city decimated…and their best solution was to wipe us off of the face of the earth.”

She looked down at the RFI as if it were vermin, disgust and anger and hatred in her face as she stared at its broken metal top. Augustine turned, showing it to Garrett. I came around the table on my hands and knees, peeking around the leg of the desk—I wasn’t sure yet if Augustine could see me, if this was a memory, or what. And quite honestly, I was very interested in not being in the crosshairs of her vision regardless of what sort of reality I was existing in. Augustine held the device close to Garrett, allowing them to reach out and take it in their own hands.

The moment it passed to Garrett’s hands, some slinking and terrible feeling crawled its way up my spine on a thousand stabbing legs, taking hold of my throat and squeezing like it was trying to choke life out of me. That soreness that seemed to make itself at home in between my shoulder blades burned, a pain that immediately made me flinch as if I could get away from it.

Garrett and I both choked out a gasp at the same time, and they dropped the RFI on the ground like it had stung them, the device clattering to the ground and losing another small metal panel in its fall. The moment it left their hand, all that pain stopped, seeped away like muck down the drain. The RFI rolled away from Garrett and towards me, stopped only in place by a jagged spike of concrete that pierced its shell, making me jump back, falling from my knees to my ass.

“Careful!” Augustine demanded, and for a moment, I got to see the mother within her. She immediately stepped forward and let her hands cup Garrett’s cheeks, examining their face as if the RFI had slashed claws over it and she needed to assess the wounds. “What happened?”

Garrett stared down at the RFI, trying to catch their breath. “I felt it,” they eventually stammered out. “That pain.” Their vision came to rest on me, making my pant die off as I stopped trying to catch whatever breath the RFI’s hold took from me. “The same pain I felt when it tried to kill me,” they said.

When it tried to kill me.

I wasn’t sure of Garrett’s true age, but I didn’t need to be—they were alive for the Blast. The RFI’s detonation. They were one of the millions that should have died that day, and one of the thousands that somehow didn’t. I hadn’t stopped to consider that any Conduit born before 2011 felt that same searing pain—and was probably left with a thousand questions…and no answers.

But it seemed not everyone was as ignorant. 

Augustine’s eyes left Garrett’s face to look down at the RFI now, hands falling from their face as she stepped forward, waving away the concrete spear that stopped it. The slab slunk back into the floor, RFI teetering just slightly at its release before it was scooped up by Augustine.

She turned it in her hands. Inspected the mess of wires on one end and the now-gaping hole in the other. The center that seemed to catch blue in the light—at least, the parts of it that weren’t covered in muck.

“It was a miracle we were given a second chance,” Augustine said, voice low and carrying pain, more than I ever knew she was capable of having. There was something in her stare that looked far past the device in her hands as she considered it, trapped in the echoes of something in the past. That pain compounded in her eyes into indignation, anger, and then a steely resolve as she shook her head, tone asserting as she vowed, “And I am not going to let something like that ever happen again.”

It was interesting watching her use concrete; while Dad’s always hovered and swirled, hers simply appeared exactly where she wanted it to be, no directing needed. Concrete wrapped around the RFI like a bandage, encasing the item fully in Augustine’s hands before it began to hug closer and closer to the metal.

Every lurch forward came with a crunching sound as the concrete crushed the RFI, compacting it into a ball of nothingness that she threw against the wall beside me with rage, the sphere shattering into a million pieces. I flinched, covering my face as the shards of concrete flew everywhere, stabbing at my forearms and hitting my drawn-up knees until everything stilled.

When I pulled my arms away from my eyes, Garrett and Augustine were no longer in front of me; they had somehow moved across the room without making a sound, standing in front of the monitors. Augustine clicked the keyboard on the long table in front of the feed with the finality of a typed phrase I somehow missed, and every screen began to blip out, their feed of the concrete caves being replaced with a scroll of photo scanned documents. The first documents that appeared had the Armed Forces stamp in the top right, the star surrounded by a laurel; a breakdown of the RFI, an autopsy report of Cole MacGrath with the outlined body marked and lit up like a Christmas tree. Radiation readings with notes about how there was a lack of any, mission objectives coupled with inventory catalogs of what all was taken from the First Sons’ New Marais base.

But the star shifted, losing its laurel and gaining weirder symbology; an hourglass and a half-filled circle, the Roman numeral I. An eyeball blinked into the center of the star and stared forward, stare so strong it drew me from my spot on the floor and pulled me forward, close enough that I could see how Augustine glared back at it.

I’d seen that logo before, a mile under New Marais.

The First Sons.

The files that started appearing were decorated in blueprints and formulas, schematics for the first of the Ray sphere and those pods the Vermaak were held in. Augustine looked at it all in disgust, shaking her head as Garrett watched from the sidelines. “Decades of effort went into creating a world the First Sons couldn’t handle.” She growled low, voice still managing to project around the room, like the concrete was grabbing it and passing her words along. “All of this—and for what? They failed to even confront the Beast in the end, the one thing they were preparing against. The only way MacGrath was able to stop its destruction was to sacrifice us all.”

“Was it the only way to stop the Beast?” Garrett asked, eyes still glued to the monitors as they watched the schematics for the Ray Sphere’s cradle scroll past. They missed how she glanced at them with anger in her eyes, indignant at the question.

But her voice betrayed none of that emotion as she said, “It was the only solution anyone bothered looking for,” before looking back at the screens ahead. “A trade of a thousand lives to absolve a thousand sins.”

She stared at the screens for a few moments before her jaw set and she slowly shook her head. “Never again,” she decided with a voice more firm than the concrete she’d laid down in her office sometime before. There was a fire in her eyes, an indignation kindled by the pain of whatever hurt her in the past. “We won’t be punished for what we are ever again.”

She leaned forward, hunched over as her fingers flew over the keyboard with the efficiency of someone who’d become very familiar with the keys from thousands of reports as she pulled up a command prompt and began inputting commands that were well beyond the one semester of foundations of computer science class I took and nearly failed. I looked around, trying to understand what she was doing and failing until Garrett asked, “You’re deleting these things from the database?”

“This is classified information few know,” Augustine said, turning to Garrett. “And even fewer need access to. Could you imagine what could happen if the wrong person knew exactly how to get rid of us? If they had a device that was even a fraction as powerful as the Beast?” Her head only shook once, and she returned to the computer. “No. I’ll make sure those that do know about these things will know exactly what will happen to them if they were to spread rumors.” She paused her typing, looking down thoughtfully at her hands as the word echoed back to the large windows. “Rumors. That’s what we will call it. And with the Department of Unified Protection soon becoming its own branch, there will be no one else to answer to but me.”

She straightened, the resolve in her eyes as she glared at the screens strong enough to burn a hole through them. “And I will not leave room for debate.”

She moved whatever the sphere that acted as a tract pad was around, and all the files were highlighted and fiddled with for a moment before a prompt came up and she confirmed it, the command center promptly informing her of it starting a complete wipe of those files from the database.

But, considering it was Augustine, it should've been obvious that she wasn't doing this out of the good of her heart.

A new window opened, and every file she had highlighted was now also being transferred somewhere else—a USB flash drive that Augustine pulled out of the back of a monitor and held up like a prized kill for Garrett to see. “Fate will be left in our hands. This...power, this ability to wipe us off the Earth will not be given to a government that wishes to rid themselves of their latest problem. This will not happen twice.”

Velcro ripped and Augustine tucked the memory stick in her breast pocket, keeping her cards close to her chest—literally. Files of the bomb that created Conduits, and the explosion that nearly made them extinct, all on a small device only in her hands.

She wielded the power, now.

Garrett watched the flash drive disappear before turning their attention back to the terminal, watching the bar on the D E L E T I N G F I L E S popup steadily grow. “How did we do it?” They asked, looking up at their mother as she stepped closer. “How did...how did we survive when so many others died?”

Augustine's eyes traveled from Garrett's face, to the ground, to somewhere far away before she turned back to the monitors and dismissed the deletion popup in favor of a new tab, typing away and opening up a video. “When the RFI was detonated, Homeland Security's radionuclide detectors went haywire. They read the sudden depletion of multiple forms of radiation that they now attribute to RFE. But—” she played the video, where a heat map of the United States grew a vivid red-hot just above New Marais, then began to seep to cool blue as the radiation disappeared, the hue spreading from the south upwards. It climbed up the Mississippi River, around the Rockies and up the burning vein of radiation the Beast laid in its wake, towards New England and the sound Empire City once rested in.

But as it traveled west, something happened.

Purples and reds burst from the Northwest, an explosion that mixed magenta in places as it pushed against the blue trying to overtake it. The two battled for space on the rest of the world map, flicks of bright red lashing out like lashes from a whip onto the blue as that cold blue stretched into the magenta like Lichtenberg figures, veins of death against whatever was trying to fight against it.

“Something countered the strength of the RFI,” Augustine said, watching the show of auroras and lightning strikes on the monitor before it all stilled, the calm map not at all reflecting the chaos that the Ray Field Inhibitor left in its wake. “Not enough to prevent it, but just enough to allow some of us to live.”

“A Ray Sphere?” Garrett asked curiously. I had to agree with them; it seemed the most possible answer, right? Maybe the First Sons had one ready to detonate in an event like this so that Conduits would never truly die.

But Augustine shook her head. “I was shown the readings of the Ray Sphere before being deployed to Empire City,” She told Garrett. “This was different. More resilient. Where the RFI would have easily consumed any power from a Ray Sphere, this was able to survive against the leech of RFE. It was able to reach out, prevent a full genocide of our people.“

Augustine pressed a button and the video rewound, the strikes of red reaching across the states, the Pacific, lashing out from the Northwest in pulses. “Every outreach was a life saved,” Augustine said, watching more bolts of power release across the map.

I watched the red snake out, reaching Russia and somewhere in South America in turn. So those random strikes of energy on the board were Conduits saved from the RFI? Augustine seemed so sure it wasn't the First Sons that caused this.

So if it wasn't...who did?

Garrett seemed to come to the same conclusion I did, asking Augustine, ”What was it, then, if not a Ray Sphere?“

Augustine's head finally turned to regard Garrett fully. “I'm not sure,” she admitted. She glanced back at the screen, hazel eyes coming to focus so hard on those flashes of red I could see the shade reflected in her iris. ”But I intend to find out. Why those that survived did, how they did. What saved us. And until then...“

She drew off, turning around to look towards the opposite wall; where the one behind her was stone, this one was pure glass, the panes so thick I could see their layers as I approached it in pace with Augustine.

It was as if the scene outside of Augustine's office knew she was approaching and wished to look down at her masterpiece; offensively bright florescent lights flashed on overhead in sectors, revealing spires of concrete shaped into levels and pillars.

The Arena.

I heard about it the first time articles were published to COLE, interviews from Curdun Cay survivors. Large arenas were littered all throughout Curdun, where Conduits would be pit against each other gladiator style while Augustine watched from above.

This was that above.

I could see power sources littered about, small enough for a Conduit to drain but not large enough for them to gain considerable power. Smoke billowed from false chimneys, light sources lined the lips of concrete. There were small bits of steel rebar poking out in some places, and I could even see puddles just under sprinklers installed on the undersides of concrete cliffs.

This was how she trained them. Weeded out Conduits one by one until she decided the victors that would take on the Pacific Northwest in search of answers. Dr. Sims. Daughtery.

Mom.

I hadn't realized everything around me disappeared until Garrett's reflection—the older Garrett—stood beside mine, looking down at the arena with their hands resting on an ornate Cedar cane I hadn't seen before. “She was a victim in her own right,” they said. “We all were, those of us that survived.”

Garrett's reflection met my eyes. “Do you believe me now, when I say she wanted to make sure we survived?”

I wanted to say I did. Hell, a part of me could even rationalize it, if I sat on the idea long enough; separating yourself from those that wanted to kill you by any means necessary was one of the few ways you could be sure you'd live.

But I didn't see benevolence in what Augustine did, then or now. “Everything she did…” I drew off, trying to find the words. “It just made things worse.”

Garrett sighed, seemingly very tired of trying to get me to see things their way. “She did what she thought would protect us—”

“No,” I cut off the reflection, refusing to accept this stupid idea. Augustine did nothing for Conduits, nothing I could spare my empathy on. “All I saw her do was delete evidence of everything that happened so she was the only one that knew the truth, and spin it all so she’d stay in charge. The only reason Conduits are even out of Curdun is because she couldn’t let that power go—”

“Would you rather the world know of the RFI?” Garrett challenged. “She was doing what she thought was best. Even if misguided.”

“By making Conduits the enemy?” I asked, motioning off to a poster on the wall to the right of me. It was a mockup to what I knew would eventually become a reporting poster, juvenile in its display: 'See Something, Say Something - Protect the Country from BIO-TERRORISM'. “Who coined that word?” I demanded of Garrett, who tore their eyes from mine to stare at the ground, taking a deep breath as if they were trying to calm themselves. “She created a problem and made herself the answer.”

Garrett grit their teeth. “She was trying to ensure—”

“Nothing else happened?” I finished their sentence for them. “How did any of her lies help?”

“Because sometimes, lies are necessary,” Garrett bit back in retort, eyes rising and their stare becoming a glare when I scoffed. I highly doubted everything that happened was because it was necessary. “Did your father not think the same, keeping the truth from you?”

I could feel my nostrils flare in anger. “That’s not the same.” I growled. Dad was nothing like Augustine; even in his lies, he did everything to try to help Conduits, in spite of it all. “My dad never meant to hurt anyone.”

Garrett’s eyebrow arched up further still as something rumbled around me; the concrete on the wall began to crawl forward, past the window’s trim and around the terminals behind me, closing in. The glass shattered, combust in a shower that sent me sprawling back as the ground on the other side of the bare window raised. I hit concrete, air sprawling from my lungs as the earthquake shuddered around me. The concrete ground against itself, a loud and painful reverberation that made me cover my ears, trying to stop the ear-splitting onslaught.

In one of the glass pieces on the ground, I caught a glimpse of Garrett’s ice blue eye still staring at me, unconvinced. “Your father hasn’t been transparent with you since the beginning,” Garrett’s voice echoed in my head in spite of it all. The fluorescent lights above cut out as they too were swallowed by the rock.

“How can you be so sure he’s a good man?”

Everything around me stilled and I forced myself to my elbows, looking around; gone was the neat observation room, the desks and monitors that allowed Augustine to peer into the maze below that made up the arena. Instead, as emergency lights flickered on, lining the rock where wall met floor, I realized I was in it.  

And something that cracked in the shadows behind me suggested I wasn’t alone.

I whipped around, trying to peer past the bad lighting to see who was there. “Garrett?” I called out tentatively. Something crunched, shifted the glass that blew back when the windows burst under the pressure of the concrete, the scrapes echoing down the corridor I stood in.

And from deep within the shadows, two glowing yellow eyes met mine, followed by the sound of something rushing towards me.

I stumbled back before turning and running for my goddamn life, heart hammering in my chest. This is what I get for talking shit about Augustine, isn’t it? I told Garrett their mother was shit, and now I’m stuck in Augustine’s Fun House with whatever the hell that was behind me as punishment.

My feet pound against the ground, veering off left the moment I found an opening to. I could still hear it behind me, hunting me, and put more into my steps, trying to outrun the predator. I skidded into my next turn and hit the wall, the impact of sharp rock on my arm feeling very real. If that felt real, would any other pain? Would I be safe from death here, or were we working on an A Nightmare On Elm Street ideology where anything that happened in this illusion happened outside of it?

I wasn’t sure, but it definitely encouraged me to continue running from my pursuer just in case it was someone—or something—that could rip me apart.

The concrete ground under my feet, pebbles of it left behind from its shifting formations that dug into the plain white and laceless tennis shoes and nearly sent me sprawling more than once as they caught in the grooves of the soles. There was a puddle of water just ahead and my calls to drain it were useless; the only time the water moved was when I ran through it, water soaking the ends of my DUP-issued pants. I was only a good three yards away from it by the time the puddle splashed again—whatever was chasing me was close.

But up ahead, there was a reprieve; a light in the dark alcove, warm amber and natural and inviting where the maze opened up. There had to be some way out of here, and even if not, the light would make it easier to see what the hell was behind me—so I ran. I put as much power into my feet as I could and ignored the burn of my lungs as I ran.

The unstable lights lining the floor flickered once, twice, three times the closer I got to the opening, my eyes struggling to adjust to see and plunging me in total darkness just before I breached the opening, forcing me to accept its burn into my retinas and the pain behind my eyes it gave me.

But when the scenery around solidified, I realized everything changed again, skidding to a stop and falling to my ass when gravel caught under my shoes as I looked around the rooftop I materialized on.

The Space Needle was dark—no colored lights strobing. No lights at all, which wasn’t normal. In fact, the entire city seemed muted like it was trying to curl in on itself. Shops I knew were usually open 24 hours were closed, neon signs were off. The city didn’t seem dead—it looked like it was hiding.

It was so quiet that I could have heard the lullaby of the Sound’s ebbs if it wasn’t for the sudden barrage of gunfire from somewhere ahead.

They were short bursts and followed by something…familiar? I’ve heard that whooshing sound before. Where have I heard it before? I shifted to my knees and got to a crouch, staying low as possible as I moved back to the ledge and peeked over it.

There, standing on the embankment that separated them from the dark waters, a fully armored DUP soldier and a Conduit detainee were exchanging fire. Figuratively and literally. The DUP soldier let off bursts that lit up the end of his rifle, the Conduit returning in kind with the same sort of flash, a pooling brightness swirling around his hand before he shot bullets of ember and smoke. The marina was littered in smoldering piles of ash, and it wasn’t until I saw the remains of a helmet in one that I realized it wasn’t the wood of the embankment that was lit on fire, but the opposition that once stood there.

Something shifted in the air around me and my hair raised with the static, a shimmer of pixelated blue wings passing directly over me before following the arch of its climb and stopping at its peak. The blue and white pixels snapped together and Dad formed from the cloud, pulling every pixel back towards his body as he dropped from the sky, fist held ready.

He became a meteor of ice blue, ripples of tech waves trailing behind him as he aimed his fist for the DUP soldier and took him out in a pulse of a bright summoning circle. The soldier dropped like a ragdoll, still and silent and dead, while the detainee stumbled back in shock before moving to run away.

Dad drew up his hand and shot without hesitation, the pixelated sword landing right in between the detainee’s shoulder blades and sending him sprawling to the ground, dazed and winded. Dad stalked towards him like a predator on prey as the detainee fought through his pain to scoot back, yanking him up from his place and pressing him against the guard rail of the marina.

The wind and the roar of the multiple APCs stole their words away, but there was no mistaking the rage leaking from Dad; despite not using powers, the video never left him, rippling against the bends of his joints like it was itching to be used again. Dad held the man by the collar of his uniform, fists to his throat—but was too busy hissing at the man to feel the hand on his stomach until he was blasted back in a cloud of smoke, slamming to the ground.

Smoke. We were in Seattle. Was that the guy Dad got smoke powers from?

The man stumbled forward, the only thing keeping him upright Dad, apparently, collapsing onto the wood of the marina. And then…both men turned out towards the water. I followed their eyes to a small, barely-anything boat bobbing in the water, slowly floating away into the Sound.

The detainee began crawling on his hands and knees towards the guard rail, Dad scrambling to his feet and letting the chain fall from his wrists, unspooling just enough to wrap the metal links around the man’s throat. I felt something swell up in my own as I watched Delsin, my father, begin to choke out this man.

But then…he hesitated. I could see it in his shoulders, the way his elbows slacked just a bit as he looked back out to the water and the boat. He was moving with the detainee’s struggles too much. And I found myself whispering, “Let him go,” again and again.

Dad leaned down, whispering something in the man’s ear.

And my blood ran cold when he stood back up and planted a foot on the man’s lower back, pushing him into the chain and choking the life out of him.

Want more from Doot? Go read more about how he tortures Garrett in All's Well That Ends:

Follow the tumultuous life of Garrett Jorrer, a Curdun Cay enforcer, experiment victim...and child of Brooke Augustine.

Told through memories of what was and wishes of what could have been, read through the out-of-order retelling of Garrett's experiences and how life led to this moment...and how it ends. All in amazing prose that utilizes 2nd person in a brilliant and artistic way! I fucking love second person, and Doot is the person for that POV if you're looking for writing that not only will blow you away, but show you how it's properly done.

[woahfurryfictionbeuponye]

Valkyrie Dreams

8/8 CharacterHub Writing Prompt: Your character encounters a legendary Valkyrie in their dream. How does the interaction unfold?

Author’s Note: This story features my OC Alvari, though I wouldn’t consider this story 100% “canon” for her. It's probably not super accurate to Valkyrie lore either, though I did do my best, spending quite a long time reading through several sites with information about Valkyries. I still took some creative liberties in the end to make it better fit the story, but I don't think any of them would offend.

Content Warning for: flirting, mentions of a character’s death, mild danger, mention of potential impalement, sensory flashbacks to trauma, mention of resuscitation, crying, swearing/ strong language

The winged equine warrior in front of Alvari commanded the jackalope’s attention with her imposing spear, ornate armor, and, most significantly to Alvari, her stunning beauty. She was like something out of one of those million dollar paintings. The witch quickly brushed a few strands of bubblegum pink hair out of her face, then smiled, her sharp canines showing.

“Come here often?” she asked, winking at the Valkyrie.

(Maybe flirting would keep her from getting impaled.)

“It’s my first time,” the horse with supernaturally glistening wings responded, then added, “I’m here to speak to you.”

Alvari’s eyes widened in surprise. “Is that so? Whatever about?” Usually a stranger appearing to her meant they wanted spellwork done and heard she was the best fit for the job. Something told her that wasn’t the case this time, though. 

“You’ve died before. Someday you’ll die again,” the Valkyrie said, blunt. Alvari’s smile dropped, the sense memory of singed fur so strong in her mind it was like she could smell it. Without thinking, she reached up to touch her face. The warrior maiden carried on, “When you die, you may feel pain, fear, regret, and even hate. You will need to leave these behind to find the future that’s ahead of you.”

“The future that’s ahead of me?” she questioned, confused. “What future, when I’m fucking dead?” As someone who’d experienced death firsthand - albeit only for a few minutes - it was already apparent to her that there was no future after your last breath, not unless someone was doing chest compressions on your lifeless corpse. 

The horse raised an eyebrow. “Do you know who I am?” Alvari’s hand returned to her side, and she stared at the stranger, taking in her gorgeous face once more. After a few moments, the jackalope was absolutely sure… she had no idea who she was. She shook her head, and the winged warrior continued, “I’m a Valkyrie, and I come from the resting place of the world’s finest warriors.”

A Valkyrie! Alvari had heard of them, but as it was said, they came to warriors, not witches. ‘So this is what they look like… they’re just as captivating as the legends say’, she thought as something clicked in her brain.

“You’re not real,” Alvari said, then added spitefully, “Valkyries are a myth, and I’m dreaming.” 

The raven-winged horse shrugged nonchalantly. “Does it matter if this is a dream?” She took a step forward. “You can still believe what you hear, if you so choose. And you have the choice to not die with burdens too heavy for a Valkyrie to carry you to Valhalla.”

“Like I’m going there!” Alvari hissed. “I’m not a warrior! I don’t fight! I…” Her head was spinning. Was she destined to die in battle? Sure, she knew offensive and defensive magic, but it was for emergencies! ‘Calm down,’ she thought to herself, ‘it’s a dream…’ After all, no one really knew how she was going to die, so how could her subconscious?

“Why are you so hesitant to lay down your burdens?” the Valkyrie questioned sincerely. It was becoming increasingly clear just how out of touch with normal emotions the maiden in front of Alvari was. The jackalope crossed her arms and huffed, fighting the instinct to thump her foot on the ground. Much more of this and she’d be stomping up a storm!

“I’m not ‘hesitant,’ I just… it’s not as simple as that!” Alvari shot back. “You can’t just say I need to die free of pain or fear like it’s a choice. What if my death is scary, huh? What if it hurts?” Her eyes watered, like she was still feeling the pain from her death all those years ago.

The Valkyrie’s wings fluttered - a sign of discontentment, or perhaps, sympathy? She was quiet, too quiet, for far too long for Alvari’s comfort. Her gaze shifted around the jackalope’s face, never meeting her teary eyes.

“Well?” Alvari asked, tired of waiting for a response. “What are your words of wisdom, O Great Wise Warrior? How do I ‘lay down my burdens,’ hmm?” 

There was another long pause, and then, the Valkyrie’s painfully honest answer. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice soft. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear with her free hand and added, “I’ve never been mortal like you. I can’t answer that any more than a fish can fly.”

‘Some fish do fly,’ Alvari thought, but that was way besides the point. There was no magical advice from the Valkyrie, because this must be her subconscious, and how could it possibly know how to conquer her greatest fears about her own death? It was hopeless. 

‘’What a pointless dream,’ Alvari thought. She sighed and shut her tired eyes. She somehow felt exhausted even while asleep. ‘Maybe,’ she thought, ‘if I close my eyes, I’ll have a different dream… One where I’m not harassed about issues that are completely normal to have.’

“I hope you find a way to ease your burdens,” the Valkyrie said, voice barely above a whisper. “You deserve a place in the halls of Valhalla.” Before Alvari could think of how to respond, the sound of wings flapping resounded through the air, and the warrior maiden was gone.

When Alvari woke up, she rolled over in bed, careful not to bump into her partner Stellen. ‘What a weird-ass dream’, she thought, the memory of it mostly foggy, with some moments clear as day. There was a… winged horse? She wanted her to be at peace with her death or something? ‘Ugh, this’ll be clearer after I have some coffee,’ she thought, turning to get out of bed when she froze in her tracks.

There on her nightstand was a glistening raven’s feather.

[Author’s Note: I for real thought I was going to abandon this halfway through… then ended up spending 2 to 3 hours on it. I really like how it turned out! Heck, maybe it will become canon.]

[silvereestars]

My Interests!

Here’s a list of all the fandoms I’m in/was into! (WARNING: Very long post ahead! If you want to see what fandoms I’m w/o the reading, just look at the tags!)

EDIT: NEVERMIND, THE TAG LIMIT FOILED ME /GEN /LH I am SO sorry, but the last few fandoms got cut out from the tag list! You’ll have to scroll down to the bottom to see them-

Crowned: These fandoms are VERY near and dear to my heart- and I’m ALWAYS willing to talk about them!

The Legend of Zelda: This is the fandom that introduced me to the internet back in 2019 (I’m a late bloomer, I know- XDDD), and kickstarted me making theories and analyses!

Friday Night Funkin: Hate it or love it, you can’t deny there are some amazing individuals out there! And for you modders out there, this game is actually heavily moddable- and one mod in particular was what caused FNF to blow up in the first place! This is actually the fandom I’m hyper fixating on right now-

Favorites: While they aren’t as important to me as the “crowned” ones, they still managed to hold my attention for a month or so- and that’s something to admire, considering how hyper my brain is!

Animator Vs Animation: This is the fandom that introduced me to Tumblr and AO3 back in the late summer of 2021- don’t worry, @ann-aha, you’re not alone! XDDD

Oh, and I can’t talk about “AvA” without mentioning the rest of the stick figure community! Shout out to Henry Stickmin, Rock Hard Gladiators/Hyun’s Dojo, Hyun, and Gildedguy! :D

Genshin Impact: Contrary to popular opinion, this game isn’t just for “nerds” or people who can afford to splurge thousands of dollars- I managed to complete the current (back then!) storyline as a free-to-player! While I’m not in the fandom anymore, at least give this one a chance?

Undertale: Ah yes, the funny skeleton man fandom /j /lh But seriously, this fandom isn’t all “Sans Fangirls”- just search up animations and artwork! Or, better yet- search up a full play through of the game (I recommend this order for newcomers- Neutral, Pacifist, Genocide) and let the story and gameplay do the talking! ^^

Just Shapes and Beats: Exactly what it says on the tin. Pro tip- once you’ve seen the full story mode, go check out KofiKrumble!

Minecraft: Of course I’d be into this fandom at some point, everyone will! I’m not into DreamSMP (please don’t kill me I’m just not interested in stuff like server-wide wars), but I AM fond of Hermitcraft and Empires!

Normal: I don’t really think about these fandoms too often, but they deserve a mention! 

Harry Potter

Voltron: Legendary Defender

My Hero Academia

The Owl House (hey, while this fandom isn’t one of my favorites, you bet I watched the finale and cried the whole time!)

Doki Doki Literature Club (somewhat- in my master post, I mentioned I hate horror, so I avoid gameplay and stick to tvtropes/summaries- sorry- ^^;)

Kipo & The Age of Wonderbeasts

Pokémon

How To Train Your Dragon

Marvel (The Avengers!)

Mario

Splatoon

Kirby

Subnautica

Trollhunters (and the rest of the Tales of Arcadia! I LOVED that series- except for Rise of The Titans. We don’t talk about Rise of The Titans. /gen /lh)

Carmen Sandiego

Amphibia

“The Big Three”: These were the fandoms I was into as a little kid, and inspired me to start making fan fiction & headcanons!

Kung Fu Panda: Oh my god, I loved this series- and a 4th movie’s coming in 2024!

Big Hero Six: This is the OG- the first fandom I EVER got into! :D

Wakfu: Yugo accidentally inspired an OC (no info- yet! Not unless I learn how to draw!), so it’d be a crime to not include this fandom!

Well, I think that’s all- for now! If you want to learn about favorite characters, theories, head canons and the like- just ask! :D

[frostbite-the-bat]

Part 2/3 of art of this guy, the more detailed/lore/serious drawings!

Rambling about their lore below the cut - it also describes who/what they are better! Just a quick warning for some b/dy horror mentions and all that.

Please remember they have no name yet as I struggle really badly with naming my characters

WILL CONTAIN TYPOS I AM WRITING THIS AT 3:30 AM!! I also did a word count at the time of me writing this it's gotten past 2k words

Well, I will not go into a deep explanation about my Swatchling mask headcanons and how they work. Read my #swatchling hcs tag or ask me directly, because if you are reading this I will assume you are knowledgeable about it already to save me some time here. I will ramble about things I believe I have not explained publically yet, though. So look for blue text if you want to go straight to reading SPECIFICALLY about this OC. You might not have some small context, but yeah. Just saying I write all over the place, so... Y e a h.

---

Well, with there being an official Swatchling mask market by Swatchlings FOR Swatchlings started by Swatchlings who know how to make their own "fake" masks without the need of it being from a real Swatchling who is expecting chicks soon. Made for those who need an extra mask for multiple chicks if they had them, or if their horn mask didn't grow enough. They also serve a purpose to help aid Swatchlings to get a specific job - this also alters their appearance so many Swatchlings like the butlers look similar if not identical.

Well... With an official market, of course, there's an illegal one. These are legitimately dangerous, as hacking masks is difficult and is NOT allowed. Most of the time, these end up being corrupted, and even easily detectable by developed detectors. If you are detected with a hacked Swatchling "mask"/the data that comes with it you are in trouble as that means you did something illegal.

Other compatible species, like the Addisons and the Plugboys are also rarely seen in their transformed, "masked" forms. They can obtain them legally through friends who are Swatchlings. They can apply these masks even as adults, even if a bit awkward since they are VERY TINY suited to fit a baby Swatchling. Some parents grab extra masks for their young to grant them the good things that come with it.

-The data, since the mask is literally an installer

-The stronger, transformed body

There are discussions about this, though, if it's morally right to give a non-Swatchling who could've have had a different purpose in life a specific datapack mask. Stripping them of their choice. If it's a "normal" mask then there is more wiggle-room. But some still see it as a bit cruel to give a kid a mask at such a young age. Since it isn't normal for them unlike Swatchlings. Their bodies aren't built for it.

Even a specific datapack Swatchling can learn to do something else than what they were given the data for. It is a bit harder, yes, but they can. For a masked non-Swatchling it is going to be HARD.

A bit easier for Addisons and Plugboys, who are close enough to Swatchlings that they are decently compatible. The most common masked types. (Tasque Manager is a masked Plugboy!! Amazing HC FOR my HC by gatorbeast, I love it so much I'm including it in my HCs as canon.)

Other species, if given a mask... They may have issues.

Keep in mind, it becomes your face. It downloads information into you. It's not just a mask you can take off. Once it is on, it's permament. The masks were not made for other Species, so if you take one it is a risk. However, it basically being free knowledge/ability to learn/strength... Is very appealing to many. So there is a market for this.

There are more reliable ones. Buying masks from Swatchlings who bought them legally, and then reselling them to non-Swatchlings. Forgot to mention, an adult Swatchling cannot attach a mask to itself, but adults of other species can. Adult non-masked Swatchlings have a specific code that stops the mask from downloading any new data, which baby Swatchlings and other species lack.

There are also the less reliable ones. The ones which have been taken away and "hacked" with too good to be true abilities and knowledge. Even many Swatchlings do not know how to "hack" a mask. This often leaves them flawed, or even worse - badly corrupted.

Only a truly desperate fool would go this low to fall for this.

Well, that's the story of this fella right here. (Edit blue text here later </3)

He was an Addison like any other. The one thing I have not thought up fully yet, was what they sold/specialized in. But chances are they sold art supplies and such, and theater related things which they were very interested in. Big fan of movies and musicals and all things theater.

Well, they did quite well. Maybe not as well as some others, but still pretty well. That still wasn't enough for them. They wanted more. They tried VERY hard at trying to be even more successful and selling more, but it never worked. They had some friends who were involved with the darker corners of the Cyber City, which were filled with crime. (Basically an equalivant for the dark and even the deep web. With their illegal sales and such.)

He also knew of masked Addisons and all that already, but he absolutely could not afford a reliable mask. Plus, he was a little scared of what he'd tell the others if he did get one.

But the constant promises of instant success... More knowledge... In a specific field, if he wanted to... With little to no effort (other than the price) ... Amazing.

He had no Swatchling friends so he had to look elsewhere. It wasn't his only thing on his mind. He had other things to deal with. However, that quickly changed when he saw Spamton rise to the top. He migh've not known him in person, but words spread fast. And Addisons are definitely going to have a slightly different opinion to someone of their own kind becoming famous like he has.

Well... He was mad. He was jealous. How can THIS lousy little jerk get all of this? He didn't work for it at all! I deserve this more! I work so hard everyday!! (Not wanting to admit they want to do the same through the Swatchling mask. Easy success with no effort. This guy is a very hypocritical asshole.)

They projected their anger and jealousy onto Spamton. I still haven't decided if they ever knew him personally before, but if they did this justifies their anger a little bit more. It is still fairly nonsensical anger, but it'd make more sense why they'd target Spamton specifically.

Shortly before Spamton's downfall, they snapped at Spamton's (still VERY high fame and success). They were done of seeing his face everywhere. People talking about him. Seeing his products... He was tired of this. His own sales were going down so he was done.

He finally decided to get a mask, and out of sheer impulse and strong reactions, he did not care much for what he got. He was desperate. He was going to become GREATER than any other Addison he knows. He bought a mask advertised to be fairly cheap, but with a high amount of knowledge. A hacked one. He took it and didn't put it on right away.

They walked away from the person they bought it from, into a more populated, safer area of the city. They were going to put it on at home. (Which is a bit awkward, the mask is tiny.. The first thing it has to do is expand fast so it can attach easier.)

But... They got imaptient. They wanted to show off how great they are. Well... They weren't very educated on how the mask installation process works.

They put it on while walking through some street shortcuts where not so many people pass by. Mostly just some Addisons as it leads to a very populated shopping area - all mostly being Addisons, of course.

Immediately they pass out, since that is what the mask does. Usually to stop you from feeling pain if there is any, and to ensure things go safe - like it being stripped off which would cancel the process which... Leads to very, very unpleasant results.

It being corrupted, his transformation and installation was...Unpleasant to say the least. He was on the floor, visibly glitching out. But not only that, the corruption also caused black ooze Swatchlings have to ooze out of him. An Addison friend who knew them passed by and freaked the FUCK out. Seeing the mask attaching itself, they do the most forbidden thing (to Swatchlings) they could do. Attempt to take it off. They pull on it and it SNAPS off partially.

It wakes the transforming Addison up. He immediatelly feels the pain, and his body glitches out more, the corruption taking over his body, while being confused wheher it's being cancelled or not. He probably got a few electrical shocks from it, too. His body was already turning into a more charcteristically Addison Swatchling one, ahe he pulled away the other Addison and put the mask back on.

He needed this to be complete. He was realizing how painful it is, and that he fucked up, but... He needed more. There is no going back.

The mask being momentarily taken off, and them using one of their hands to pull the other Addison away and put it back on (causing them to pass out again) made them turn incorrectly. Making one of their arms WAY BIGGER compared to the other one. Also their split face thing, and the fact their face is *usually* stuck in a smiling expression on one part, no matter how they feel. The Addison is scared as HELL so they run away from him, since they were scared this corruption was contagous and that they could hurt them.

When their installation is complete, they are horrified of themselves. They know they fucked up. They know they are wrong. But... They feel more powerful. Even if they are now corrupted, forever (both physically and mentally) they did not care. They didn't want to admit being wrong. Only losers do that.

Still, they were aware that... Well. Their new appearance may scare people away, so they went into hiding. He now resides in the dark Cyber City, still going out to lurk in the less populated parts of the surface Cyber City on occasion. They made up a new cover-up name... They were almost unrecognizeable, so they wanted a new name for at least a while. If anyone was looking for them, new people they meet wont be able to report them by recognizing the name. Now, they use both names, giving their real name to people they trust.

They know how badly masks fucked them over but... They became a part of the business. It is almost like they want to corrupt more people out of spite. Blaming everyone else for what they are now. Everyone but themselves.

Especially Spamton. He has never done anything to them, but they despise him even MORE. They blame Spamton for making them snap and causing this to themselves.

Eventually, Spamton had his own downfall which they noticed and learned about. They know how he ended up. They both laugh at him for his failure, saying he got what he deserved. But also comparing their own pain to his, making it a fucked up contest of who suffered more.

He claims he suffered more than Spamton, that he is more corrupted, to make himself the "poor little guy" in the situation. While... At the same time, they also bask that they're more successful than him. They make occasional sales, and they know some people. Maybe not as a close friend which they DEFINITELY need, but they aren't completely alone.

Of course, they aren't thinking of this 24/7 but when reminded they will get angry. If they ever saw Spamton in person, hoo man things would not go well. Good thing both of these hide in their own trash areas.

Anyways, they also have a temper. A pretty bad one. They WILL lash out violently and use their strength against you. Who would've known having one giant arm would give you a powerful advantage? Well.. And some unbalance and a slouch, but that doesnt stop him.

He WILL physically scare people into sales. If you aren't scared by his face and appearance alone, if you try to leave his shop without buying anything he will MAKE you. He'll rise from his seat and puff up his hair to be more intimidating. If that does not work he will literally not be scared to beat you up or threaten to. If he threatens he is being nice that day.

He has... A lot of issues. His biggest one obviously being his anger, projecting, jealousy and the fact he is unable to accept himself as being wrong. Making someone responsible for his suffering is the only way he keeps himself up. Getting corrupted screwed over his thinking somewhat as well, so that does not help.

They also have their own speech quirks, both if they had a voice and as possible in-game dialogue. Their text would be very glitchy and corrupted. Often repeating words, some words missing, using different fonts, text going out of bounds, random glitching and even zalgo-esk corruption. Him becoming more Swatchling-like seemed to have phased out his Addison urge to advestise constnatly. It is still very much there, but it hs been mellowed out. This explains why his speech is different to Spamton. They are both corrupted in different ways, too.

There is little helping this guy, but if someone has the patience with him and guide him better he might start getting better and let go of some things. But with how violent he is and how he often denies and lies that something is wrong with him... It's going to be a very hard task. Don't count on it.

Bro I am so tired writing this. Hyperfixation poppng off but I am going to pass out so bad the second I stop writing it's almost 4 am.

ANWAYS ONTO RANDOM FACTS as you can see my seriousness is fading out as chaos enters my body once more

Erhem.

His face leaks the same goo I mentioned earlier. When calm, it leaks less or not at all. When mad, crying or upset in some way, it leaks more. The stronger the emotion is (usually negative) the more their face is going to leak like that

They preach Swatchling masks, even saying things like "Look at me. Don't you see how beautiful I am? How great my face is? How great I AM? Don't you want that as well?" (but glitchy lmao) to make you buy it

He probably knows he is contradicting himself and scaring you off. He knows he is very scary. He just does it anyway.

Uhh.. Design thing. He is inspired by theater masks - but also ENA! Mostly his expressions and split face thing. He even has a uick dumb expression chart thingy I made:

anyways my brain is deteriorating i forgot most of what i was gonna say but this covers it all. dont be like me and dont write stuff like this at 3 am!!!

[lyranova]

After the Mixer

Hi guys! Here’s the collab I mentioned that I wrote with @thoughtfullyrainynightmare 😁, i had so much fun writing this and its super chaotic but in the best way hehe. It has canon characters as well as Yamichar in it, it also has OC’s such as Alistar, Leon, Hikari, Ulla, and Solara so its got a bit of everything 🥰! This is another side story for COTF and if you’d like to read the first part of this fic you can read it HERE. I also apologize if it looks weird, i ran out of block texts 😅.

Taglist: @eme-eleff @crazyclownthanos @bowandcurtsey @flow3rbudz @elysianluv @ckjwnnbc

Warnings: None

———

It was a bright and sunny day in the Clover Kingdom, birds were chirping, the sun was shining, the citizens were happy and cheering. It was a good and normal day for everyone, well almost everyone.

Alistar groaned as he walked towards the meeting room, his head was pounding, he was nauseous, he was tired, and very dizzy. Alistar was hungover. He accidentally drank something a little too strong for him, so now he was suffering the consequences. He groaned as the memory of confessing his feelings for Hikari to her father surfaced. That was awful.

“ A-Alistar, are you ok?” Ulla asked softly as she followed behind him, her heels clicking against the stone floor. Even that sound was making his head worse. He couldn’t help but give the young red haired girl a stern look over his dark sunglasses.

“ No Ulla, I am not ok.” He grumbled, his usual happy and warm demeanor gone and was replaced by a very grumpy and tired one. He walked up to a wall and leaned against it as the world suddenly turned sideways.

He leaned his head against the cool stone wall as Ulla stared at him nervously, it had been a while since she had seen him like this. She heard someone approach and waved her hand.

“ Oh hello Leon!”

"Hey," Leon simply greeted, giving her a small wave as he made his way to Alistair.

"What are you doing here?" Alistair asked, not wanting any more questions about how well he was, or clearly wasn't, doing.

"I'm attending the meeting to, y'know, get a better grasp of these meetings." Leon shrugged, waving off Alistair's grumpy attitude since he knew perfectly well where it was coming from.

"To get a better grasp?" Alistair quirked an eyebrow. Leon knew perfectly well how these meeting always were, and he'd get a briefing instead of having to sit through one of these tedious necessities that came with being a captain, or a vice-captain.

"Yeah..." Leon replied with a lazy tone. "That's what I told my father, and he quirked an eyebrow at it too, but he wasn't going to exactly stop me from attending."

"So what are you really doing here?" Alistair asked while massaging his temples.

"Moral support?" Leon answered with a questioning tone, since he wasn't quite sure about it himself. But, what he did know was that he felt bad about leaving Alistair to deal with the aftermath on his own. Though it wasn't exactly his job to baby sit Alistair either, and watch his drinking habits.

Alistar rolled his eyes at his friend, “moral support”, yeah right. The last time he was his “moral support” he watched as he confessed to Yami Sukehiro and then passed out in front of him. Yeah some moral support Leon was. Alistar let out a soft sigh before pushing himself off the wall and he started walking with Leon and Ulla towards the meeting room.

“ You just want to see what Captain Sukehiro’s reaction to me being there is going to be.” Alistar half joked, his friend chuckled slightly.

“ Maybe a little.” Leon agreed as he pinched his fingers together slightly, Alistar shook his head.

“ Terrible.” He muttered jokingly, the three stood outside the tall oak doors and Alistar leaned against the frame a bit. “ Give me just a moment.” He asked as he held up a finger.

He was not only sick from the hangover, but just the thought of seeing Captain Sukehiro again made his stomach do all sorts of flips. That’s all he would need is to puke in front of Hikari’s father, or worse puke on her father. He paled at the thought.

“ Captain, are you ok?” Ulla asked again in concern before she turned to look at Leon who only watched Alistar, the white haired mage smiled weakly before patting the girl on the head.

“ You worry too much.” He told her before standing up straight again and he looked at Leon. “ If I say ‘Pun and Sun’ that’s the signal to kill me and end my suffering.”

"Your death shall be quick," Leon assured with a smirk.

"Nothing about this has been 'quick and easy'," Alistair muttered again before supporting himself against the doorframe and taking a deep breath.

Ulla and Leon watched Alistair push the door open, and hastily make his way to his seat without as much as a greeting form the other captains. Yami wasn't there yet, so he sighed to himself out of relief. Though Captain Roselei was, which made him frown for a bit. But then again, she had always been more punctual out of the two.

Leon and Ulla followed, exchanging their greetings. But the pleasantries were cut short by a low voice, coming from the corner of the room, from the same wall on which the door stood.

"Don't have the common courtesy to wish good morning?"

Alistair froze in place. Because... it was Captain Sukehiro's voice. He should have noticed his mana. He should've! But... it seemed that he had been too caught up with trying to compose himself.

Alistar swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as he turned slowly to face Yami, the taller man had a cool yet stern look in his eye as he looked Alistar up and down. Alistar quickly cleared his throat before speaking.

“ G-Good morning Captain Sukehiro.” Alistar said calmly, it took everything he had to keep his voice from shaking. Yami just stared at him before scoffing, pushing himself off the wall and walking past him.

“ You look like hell.” He grumbled, Alistar let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He watched as Captain Sukehiro sat down next to his wife, Alistar looked at Leon who only smiled, gave him a thumbs up and mouthed ‘Moral Support’. Alistar glared over his sunglasses at him and he shook his head before walking over to the meeting table.

“ Good morning.” He greeted everyone politely, he tried to give them his most charming and warm smile, but instead it came out more lopsided. He noticed Hikari wasn’t around and frowned, she must be in the bathroom? Or was she feeling unwell? If she didn’t show up during the meeting he would try and go see her, even if he felt awful he would always check on her and make sure she was ok.

“ Good morning Alistar,” Fuegoleon responded politely as did the other Captains, he frowned a bit at the young man's slightly disheveled appearance. He leaned towards his son and whispered. “ Is Alistar alright? I know you, him, and one of the Black Bulls went out last night.”

Leon leaned closer to his father, pondering for a moment whether or not he should reply in Thean, just to make sure that the events of last night wouldn't be overheard by those around them. But then again, speaking in a foreign language in a setting where most present didn't speak that particular language, would be rather rude.

"He..." Leon began in whispers. "He had one too many last night," he simply remarked, intending to tell a bit more once back home if it was necessary.

Fuegoleon only gave a slow nod as a reply. He couldn't really relate to being badly hungover, but to him it was nothing more than youthful self-discovery. And since Alistair was present at the meeting, he wanted to still complete his responsibilities, and would surely learn from this experience.

"No you had one too many, this one had a bucketful on top of that," Yami remarked as his eyes shifted between Leon and Alistair. His previous irritation seemed to be growing the longer he looked at white haired younger male who hadn't 'bothered to greet good morning'.

Fuegoleon quirked an eyebrow at Yami, as if to ask where his comment was coming from.

Alistair opened his mouth to reply, but then William walked in, and upon seeing the frowns around the table, he stopped in his tracks.

“ Good morning everyone.” William said hesitantly, he frowned as he looked around the room, it was as though he interrupted some conversation. He walked around to his seat and sat down before turning to his right to see his son looking worse for wear. He looked over at Yami, Fuegoleon, and Leon before looking back at Alistar.

“ Alistar,” he suddenly pulled his son’s dark glasses down and looked at his eyes. “ are you hungover?” Before Alistar could respond Yami snorted, causing William to look at him.

“ Yeah he is, your son drank a bucket full of alcohol last night and as you can see it didn’t agree with him.” Yami said as he crossed his arms, Alistar looked at Yami.

“ It wasn’t a ‘bucket full’ it was 2 glasses of really strong alcohol.” He mumbled, holding up two fingers. When he saw the glare Yami was giving him, Alistar paled further. “ s-sir.” He added softly. William sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“ Do I even want to know why the three of you went out and decided to get drunk?” William asked as he leaned back in his seat, he was clearly disappointed in his son's behavior and coming to the meeting hungover. Sure it showed that he was willing to do his job and attend meetings no matter how he was feeling, but he also knew Alistar was better than this.

“ Depends, do you really want to know?” Yami asked William with a slightly raised brow.

"We didn't 'decide' to get drunk," Alistair tried, looking at his father, which made William glance at him.

"Yes," Leon butted in to the conversation. "Ezio left to escort a lady home, and we stayed to chat. And it really was only 2 glasses. I didn't think them to be that strong." He explained, trying to salvage what there was to be salvaged. "And besides, you didn't seem that bad off when we left." He added while looking at Alistair.

"So the decisions you made, you made with 'good judgement'?" Yami asked while turning his attention to Leon.

Leon paused for a moment, realizing that he had just given an opening for Captain Sukehiro to question his judgement. "Well... Things emerged during the conversation. And if you look at the decisions made, it's not so much about the decision itself, but more of a timing issue."

Yami quirked an eyebrow again, while Alistair glared at Leon over the table with a hint of pleading, and with a hint of anger.

" Why do you hate me? " He asked without thinking more about it.

"What happened? Exactly," William interrupted the conversation and turned his attention back to Yami.

“ Well idiot one and idiot two here came by the Black Bulls base last night,” Yami started as he leaned forward. “ Your son, idiot one, decided it would be a good idea to confess his feelings for my daughter Hikari *while* he was drunk. But instead of confessing to her he confessed to me.”

“ And idiot two,” Yami continued looking at Leon. “ just stood there supporting idiot one with a goofy smile on his face.” Yami finished.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop in the room. Everyone seemed surprised by this, except for Captain Roselei as she was the only other person who knew about Alistar’s feelings for Hikari.

Alistar was as white as his hair, his glasses having fallen further down the bridge of his nose as he listened to Captain Sukehiro rat him and Leon out, he glanced over to his friend and saw he was staring down at the table.

“ Does the ‘Pun and Sun’ kill command work for me as well if I say it?” Leon asked Alistar softly.

“ I’m sure it can be arranged.” Alistar muttered back softly before William leaned forward, as did Fuegoleon.

“ I’m sorry, you both did what?” William asked before looking towards his son, then Leon, and back again.

"I-" Alistair began, wondering about what he could say, if anything. "It... wasn't a good decision, but I... I needed a bit of encouragement..." Alistair mumbled. Which was true. It wasn't convincing or a good thing to say, but it was true. "It's no excuse but it's..."

William looked at his son, blinking, and then letting out a sigh. "It is not. But at least your judgement was clouded when you made the decision." He stated while glancing over at Leon.

"Just what are you implying?" Fuegoleon asked with a low tone, now looking at William instead.

William's eyes shifted to the vermillion haired captain with a courteous smile. "Well since Leon was still very much aware of his actions, and still enabled this to happen, surely he's accountable as well."

"You intend to pin the blame onto my son?" Fuegoleon asked again, now standing up.

"Both of your idiot sons are to blame," Yami scoffed while Charlotte glanced at Solara.

“ Unless you have something actually constructive to say Yami, I would suggest you stay out of this.” William said holding up a hand towards Yami before turning his attention to Fuegoleon, everyone could feel the amount of intense mana radiating off both men as they tried to defend their son’s.

“ Well Yami,” Fuegoleon suddenly turned to face the dark haired man. “ since your daughter spends so much time with them, then is it right to assume she enjoys the company of idiots?” He asked with a raised brow, Yami stood up and glared at the vermillion haired mage.

“Are you calling my daughter an idiot-lover, Oldgoleon?” He asked in a threatening tone, William then chuckled.

“ I mean, we don’t know what Hikari’s feelings are. But if we were to assume that she liked Alistar and Leon, then by extension that would make her an idiot as well.” William pointed out, Yami turned to look at him. The room exploded with mana, it wasn’t only coming from Fuegoleon and William but now Yami as well.

“ You’ve gone too far, Goldie Guts.” Yami said in a raised tone, causing Alistar to clutch the side of his head in pain. If his head wasn’t pounding before it surely was now, Fuegoleon scoffed.

“ You’re the one that started it by calling our sons idiots Yami.” Fuegoleon pointed out and William nodded in agreement.

"No it was your sons that started this overall," Yami replied while finally standing up as the very walls seemed to bend away from the overwhelming mana inside the room.

Charlotte leaned over the table, whispering to Solara while keeping her eyes firmly on the three men. "You think we should intervene?"

"Hmm..." She hummed while glancing over. "I'm tempted to see just how far this escalates... If it seems like they'll do something irreversible, then we'll intervene." She pondered before lifting her tea cup to her lips. "Unless, of course, you want to stop them now."

Charlotte though about it for a moment, listening onto the bickering for a moment. "They're grown men," she finally concluded, taking a sip of her tea as well, while all the other captains and vice captains looked at the two of them, and the trio, and then Charlotte and Solara again.

Leon's gaze shifted between his father, Alistair, and his mother, unsure of what to do.

And Alistair, Alistair wondered if there was a hole where he could just crawl into and die.

Suddenly, the oak doors opened and in walked Hikari Sukehiro. She looked around as she saw chaos erupting, she could feel the mana on the other side of the door when she approached but hadn’t realized it had been all three Captain’s. She noticed all of their ki was aggressive and yet somewhat...childish? She frowned and slyly made her way over to Alistar, apparently the ‘adults’ were too busy bickering to notice.

“ What the heck happened?” She whispered in Alistar’s ear causing him to jump slightly and turn to look at her, she frowned a bit as she looked him up and down. “ Geez what happened to you?”

Alistar held a finger up to his lips before signaling to Leon to follow him, both men stood up from their seats and, without thinking, Alistar took Hikari’s hand and led them to a corner of the room. Alistar sat down in the chair and leaned back as his head continued to pound.

“ So what happened?” Hikari asked, looking from Leon to Alistar, the white haired man still hadn’t let go of her hand Leon noticed with an amused smile.

“ Well long story short; Alistar got drunk last night so he’s currently hungover, your dad called him and I idiots, our dads jumped to our defense and pointed out that you liking and hanging out with us also made you an idiot and this is the end result.” Leon explained as the yelling got louder and it seemed the walls were continuing to bend because of it.

Hikari blinked, and her eyes shifted between the two. Alistair looked bad off. Really bad off. In the way someone with a hungover would look.

"That's... pretty much it..." Alistair replied, confirming Leon's explanation.

But still. The explanation didn't really explain anything to her. Or perhaps it did. She thought Alistar to be better than to get wasted before an important meeting. That in itself was weird. But why was dad calling him and Leon idiots? Surely it had something to do with getting drunk. And perhaps Leon allowing Alistair to get drunk. But why was dad so... emotional about it? Calling them idiots? It wasn't like him. Usually he'd just shrug it off, or maybe snicker about it. Maybe. But this.. it was-

There was a crash, which woke her from her thoughts. And the next thing she knew was the sight of her mom dragging her father by the ear. "I can't believe you dropped down to this level," she frowned with her brow twitching.

"But honey- ow, ow, ow," Yami tried, while still being dragged by Charlotte towards the hallway.

Fuegoleon and William chuckled as they watched Charlotte dragging Yami away, until Fuegoleon felt a similar pull on his ear and he turned to see Solara glaring at him as well.

“ I think that’s quite enough Fuegoleon, I swear I thought you were better than this.” Solara said in a disapproving tone as she dragged her husband out of the room as well, William continued to chuckle as he watched them.

“ My how the mighty have fallen. Both the Lion and the Bull have been tamed and are now as harmless as a house cat and a calf.” He chuckled before it died in his throat when Solara and Charlotte glared at him.

“ You know William, we both still have one free hand each,” Charlotte pointed out and Solara nodded in agreement.

“ And you have two free ears that no one’s pinching, so unless you’d like us both to grab one of your ears. I suggest you keep quiet.” Solara said and William paled a bit but nodded.

“ Geez, when did the adults start acting like children?” Hikari muttered with a sigh and shake of her head.

"You know that it was his son that-" Yami tried to explain to Charlotte, only to have his ear pinched even stronger.

"Don't you dare try continue this," Charlotte glared at him.

"Yeah dad!" Hikari exclaimed marching towards her father. "So what he got drunk?! As a grown man you should be able to be more mature about it!" She scolded him.

Solara sighed, looking at Fuegoleon again with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes dear..." he only spoke before being let go, and started heading out towards the hallway.

Leon let out a faint snicker, unable to contain the absurdity of the moment, but instead earned a similar glare from his mother. Which made any signs of amusement fade from him. "Nothing mom..."

Meanwhile Charlotte and Hikari, who had proceeded to grab Yami's other ear between her fingers, were dragging Yami out.

And as it all was taking place, everyone else in the room, those who were simply observing, did just that. They looked at it all, unfolding before them without really wanting to intervene.

“ I’ll talk to you guys later, try to sleep off that hangover Alistar.” Hikari said, turning slightly to face the room before walking out with her mother and father, Alistar gave the dark haired girl and his vermillion haired friend a small wave goodbye as they exited the room. William sighed softly and looked at the other Captains and Vice Captains.

“ I apologize for the chaos and for our behavior, I promise this will never happen again. This meeting will continue at a later date, you may leave.” William said, the other captains and vice captains nodded and left the room, Ulla looked at Alistar and he nodded so she also exited the room.

Once the oak doors clicked shut William sighed and walked over towards Alistar and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“ Come on, let’s get you back home.” William said softly, Alistar nodded and stood up, as the room began to spin and tilt slightly he leaned against his father.

“ I’m sorry, this is all my fault. I...I should have been more responsible.” Alistar mumbled softly, if he hadn’t gone out last night and hadn’t gone to the Black Bulls to confess to Hikari, maybe today and the meeting wouldn’t have been such a disaster.

William looked at his son in silence for a moment. It was only the two of them now, so he could speak freely. But he didn't really know what to tell Alistair.

He might have had his white hair, the hair he was now gently stroking as Alistair leaned against him. But his eyes always reminded him of his wife. And, he found himself thinking how she would probably have had something constructive to say.

William looked up to the ceiling, though his gaze extended far further than that. I didn't think this would be so hard... He thought, hoping that she might hear him. Though if you were here, you would probably have dragged me out just like those two were. He smiled to himself.

"Confessing your feelings is hard," William began, trying to think of something comforting, but ending up thinking about how nervous he was around his wife in the beginning. "And... things could certainly have... gone smoother. But... I wasn't exactly on my best behaviour either...." He admitted while turning his gaze back to Alistair.

“ Heh. None of us were on our best behavior.” Alistar admitted with a humorless laugh, things should have gone differently but sadly they hadn’t, he heard his father sigh softly as he continued stroking his son’s head. Even though Alistar was an adult now, he still wanted to try and comfort him the best way he could. Alistar did seem to take comfort in the small gesture as he leaned slightly more into his fathers touch.

“ Did I ever tell you how your mother confessed to me?” William asked suddenly, it was a bit of an embarrassing story, well not embarrassing but it was very...sudden? His son turned his head a bit to look at his father.

“ I don’t think so, was it as bad as what I did?” Alistar asked, William chuckled and shook his head.

“ No it wasn’t as bad as what you did,” Alistar groaned at his fathers words but let him continue. “ Your mother was a very direct person, sure she seemed sweet in public but she was actually quite different when it was just us. Long story short, I went to see her one day and she just came out and said she was in love with me, that she couldn’t imagine spending the rest of her life with anyone else, and asked if I felt the same way.”

“ Sounds like her. I wish I could be that direct.” Alistar mumbled with a soft laugh and his father laughed as well.

“ Your mother was one of a kind.” He admitted with a fond smile as all the memories of him and his wife floated to the surface of his mind.

Alistair looked away with sorrowful eyes, feeling longing that didn't really make sense to him. How could he miss someone who he had never met? But. No matter how absurd it seemed, he did feel sad about not meeting his mother.

"And I'm sure that she would have something helpful to say," William continued while looking at his son. "Either that or then I would be getting dragged away just like Fuegoleon and Yami," he chuckled.

Alistar scoffed a little, thinking about the sight. If the situation would have been anything else than what it was, he might have laughed out loud while witnessing it, depending on who was there to see.

"But.. um...." William tried to think of what he was trying to say a moment before. "It's not easy to confess your feelings. I didn't have to, or I didn't get to, I suppose, be the one to confess. Your mother did that for me. So... you're trying to do something very brave, and... I should scold you for trying to confess with fool's courage," he spoke with a slightly more stern tone of voice. "I can understand why you did so."

Alistair gazed up to his father again, feeling an array of emotions. He wasn't pleased about everything going the way it did. And he wasn't exactly happy about deciding to confess his feelings while drunk. But... His dad was on his side with this.

“ I shouldn’t have been so stupid, but what’s done is done and I can’t change it.” Alistar admitted softly. “ But I can make my next confession better and they way Hikari deserves to be confessed too.” Alistar added with a bit more strength and determination, William smiled with slight pride before he gently ruffled his son's head.

“ I know you will, and if there’s anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to let me know. I’m sure Leon and the others wouldn’t mind helping either.” William said. “ but think it’s time we got you home,” William added as he walked with his son towards the exit, Alistar nodded in agreement as he stood up a little more straight before regretting his decision and leaning against his father again.

“ I hate being hungover.” Alistar grumbled as his father chuckled, he opened the doors as quietly as he could before shutting them softly behind them.

“ Next time you go out with your friends, how about not going to a tavern?” William suggested as his son rolled his eyes at the suggestion.

"It was Ezio's idea," Alistair scoffed.

"Well in that case, perhaps it would be your turn to pick," William chuckled while supporting his son.

"Yeah, I suppose it would," Alistair agreed with a small smile before taking a deep breath and trying to stand a bit more upright. But this time he straightened his posture little by little, unlike before, which made it much more tolerable.

William smiled. And, despite of everything, he was proud. He'd always be proud of Alistair, no matter what. Though, he had to admit, he was sure that they'd both do a little bit better if... it wasn't just the two of them.

So, William gazed up again, asking if his wife was proud of them too. And of course there was no answer. Or... perhaps there was, in the way wind outside made a few petals dance in front of a window.

——-

Thanks for reading and I hope you all have a good day 🥰!

[sunnytwst]

Intro + Rules

hello everyone! you can call me sunny! my pronouns are he/him and they/them. this is a little twisted wonderland writing blog that i made for fun! requests are currently closed and anon is on. rules are under the cut, please give them a read and be mindful before you submit an ask!

general rules:

I ONLY WRITE FOR GENDER NEUTRAL, ENBY, AND MALE READERS

i’m just one guy and i’ll do my best to respond as quickly as i can but please be kind and patient with both me and each other

this is a blog for character x reader only. i won’t normally do requests for chara x chara or chara x oc, sorry!

this blog will contain 18+ content! the tag will be #sunset, minors please please please block it and do not interact!

all sfw works will feature a gender neutral reader unless gender is specifically related to the request (e.g. “lilia helping transmasc reader cope with dysphoria”) because i’d like to make the piece as inclusive as possible

i will also try to leave the reader’s genitalia in nsfw content vague!! sunny says trans rights!!!!

potential trigger and content warnings will be mentioned at the top of the post

despite the blog name i am also taking obey me requests

i will write:

for both nrc students and staff

headcanons, scenarios, and interactions

angst and fluff! or maybe even a combination of the two

poly relationships

alternate universes

yandere content

18+ content, all characters will be aged up and i’ll specify that at the top of the post as well

i will not write:

specifically female reader

asks with overly explicit or excessive violence and gore

non-con or rape outside of a yandere context (i'm also not really comfortable with sex when one or more parties are inebriated)

incest

pedophilia

nsfw for ortho and cheka!! i feel like this should go without saying because that’s just. that’s just ew.

on the topic of nsfw i’m cool with most kinks but any feceplay is a hard no, it’s just not really something i’m comfortable with. knifeplay is generally ok but please don’t ask for something like carving a name into someone’s thigh,,

request guidelines:

specify what format you want (headcanons, scenario, interaction) 

specify what general catergory you want (angst, fluff, or nsfw)

specify if the request is for reader or mc. mc is the ramshackle prefect and will follow the canon

when it comes to the reader feel free to be specific, just not to a point where i’d basically be writing for your oc

specify what kind of relationship it is (dating, crushing, friends, family, etc)! please don’t say something like “reader with silver” because that’s really vague and i’ll default to platonic

be specific with what it is that you want if you request an au!

for headcanons i will do a maximum of five characters. the exceptions to this are requesting groups like dorm leaders, vice dorm leaders, second years, or third years. the rule also applies to obey me requests and exceptions are the brothers as a group and the dateables as a group.

for scenarios i will do a maximum of two characters

for interactions i won’t set a hard limit but please try to keep the number at one or two characters

[bansheeoftheforest]

1) What expression do you think is the hardest to draw

2) If your tgs ocs could be any mythical/supernatural creature what would they be

3) Random headcanon of yours?

4) One random headcanon of mine (that I'm pretty sure is common) is that due to Hyde, if Jekyll were to go into a state of adrenaline he could absolutely lift like something well beyond what a human should be capable of. Just an absolute huge boost of strength

5) Do you think j&h bones are super stong or super weak? One one hand your 'bones grow back stonger' but on the other. They're breaking them everywhere everyday. I feel thatd make em rather weak

Can I just start off by saying that I like that I can always count on you to ask me something when I make 'ask me' posts? You're wonderful x3

1) All of them. I can draw 1 and 1.5 expressions, either being sheer indifference/mild annoyance or a grin. Nothing more, nothing less. I'm not very good at drawing and I try to get better at expressions but... Expressions are so hard. I have no idea how you do expressions so good honestly, but I would say the hardest is like... Very exaggerated faces? Sad, mad, happy... Especially sad, they look so weird when I draw them sdfsd

2) OooooooOoOohhh.. Collin would be a centaur for certain, or basically any other humanoid/animal creature since I made him an animal lover and a horse breeder (although that might be up for change, I'm thinking of revamping the chars sooner or later)

Hmm... I have mentioned (in between the lines of 1 post. that was) that Abigail would, at some point, maybe become a banshee, mostly because the heartbreak of losing her son, being in love with a man she can't have plus the fact that Douglas is more or less borderline abusive (and considering the fact that Douglas might or might not have had a hand in her death, I'm still debating that point), and banshees are seen as a good creature too, warning people of their or a loved one's death. Either a banshee or a forest nymph, perhaps? Maybe a selkie?

Lastly, Douglas... Werewolf, maybe? A werebear, perhaps? Some kind of bear/wolf monster at the very least, something generally aggressive and capable of great destruction/murder if left unattended. Douglas a... Shitty dude, to say the least. He does not like people and he could not give less of a shit if he hurt people around him, and while werewolves generally are remorseful for the pain they cause and the fate they lead, he... Would not care. Have I mentioned he is a very bad dude?

3) Random Hc of mine... Hmmm... The hc I can think of right now is either A, Henry can no longer feel pain after the HJX potions and his body regrows and regenerates quite quickly, basically like a lizard, so he could chop his hand off and be perfectly fine, just needing to... Well, use some potions to regrow it. Mostly because I like the idea of Brokenshire and the Scotland yard, or sponsors, interrupting an tired Henry who just wants to get his work done but they refuse to leave him alone, so he carries on with his experiments and just... Chops his hand off without flinching, much to the horror of whoever is watching him, or B, that literally everyone (except, of course, for the older peeps like Cantilupe, Maijabi and Sir. Danvers/Lanyon) has had a crush on Henry at some point. All the Lodgers his age? Half the Scotland yard? He is a sought after man, as shown during An Army Of Nightmares, and to be fair, I'm sure he would have been able to make some question their sexuality... More than once.

4) Oooh, I have actually not seen a lot of that hc! I knew it existed but I wasn't sure if it was common or... Half canon at this point because everyone just has accepted it already. I think it makes sense and is a really good one! Anyone, under a specific set of adrenaline, can get crazy strong in life threatening situations, but perhaps Jekyll's strength or necessary amount of adrenaline got altered with the help of the HJ7? this is a very interesting hc!

5) Man... On one hand, I love the angst, and I love to have like... Frail, sick, weak characters because --as a writer-- they are fun to toy with, which is also why I hc/made Collin have some kind of longlasting illness that makes it hard for him to have a normal work, but also makes him need to wear that scarf most of the time. However, as per my previous hc, I do feel like they would be stronger-- Perhaps not because they get broken every night but instead because the HJ7 physically alters their body to make way for the two different life forms. I like (and have basically accepted it as canon) the hc you got/made that, if Henry lost a finger, it would grow back on Hyde and Henry would have it when he turned back again (the teeth post, I believe? I'm not sure if that was the specific conclusion you came to but I digress), so, I do believe it's a bit up for interpretation and the context? It would make a good baseline for an sickfic story, but also a comedy fic because Henry just... Cannot get wounded... At all. Unsatisfactory answer? Most likely but sdfsdjfhs

[alyssawritesssfics]

Hounded [6] 6. His Sister’s Keeper

Pairings: Bellamy x OC // Kane x daughter!OC

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character deaths (canon), series spoilers

Summary: Athena joins Bellamy, Finn, Jasper, and a few others in a search for Octavia, leaving them weaker than ever before.

Author’s Note: Hii, here is chapter/episode six! I’m sorry if this one is a little weaker, I really struggled with this episode as it’s one of my least favourite. I hope you enjoy it anyways! Please remember to note and reblog! It really helps me see interest and therefore update the story more often. Thank you!

Tag List: @topazy​ (DM or send an ask to be added)

previous chapter // series masterlist

Later that night, I found myself in my new tent that I would be sharing with Octavia. With all the chaos of getting the flares together, I was surprised anyone had found time to put more tents together. All I could think about was getting to rest my head on my own bed for the first time since we’d landed; to finally get a proper night's sleep, not having watch duty tonight.

As I was about to undress for the evening, I heard footsteps approach my tent. Within seconds, Bellamy’s voice came through.

“Octavia? Are you in there?”

I remained silent, figuring he’d opt to leave on his own.

“Octavia?”

Letting out a huff, I headed over to the flap of the tent, pulling it to the side. “She’s not here.” I dropped my hand from the tent flap, letting it close. Before it could, Bellamy slipped his hand inside, stopping it.

“Do you know where she is?” He asked, his voice shaking.

I raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen her since you told us to wait until sunrise to go after the pod.”

“You’re sure that’s the last time you saw her?”

“What’s going on, Bellamy?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

Bellamy looked around before entering the tent. “Octavia followed me this morning. We got into a fight and I thought she came back to camp.”

“Nobody else has seen her?”

He shook his head. “I’ve looked everywhere. She’s gone.”

“Okay. I’ll help you look.” I said, grabbing my knife from where it sat next to my cot. “Let’s check again. You go to the dropship, I’ll check the rest of the tents.”

Bellamy nodded. “Thank you, Athena.”

I nodded. “Octavia was all I had in Skybox. I owe her.”

Exiting the tent, I turned back one more time, giving Bellamy a nod before heading off to search the rest of the tents.

…

“Hey, everybody, gather around and grab a weapon!” Bellamy called out. “My sister's been out there alone for 12 hours. Arm up. We're not coming back without her.”

I had spent the last hour searching the rest of the tents, never finding Octavia. Nobody had seen her since this morning.

Clarke placed her hand on Jasper’s shoulder. “Hey, you don’t have to do this. You haven’t left camp since we brought you back.”

Jasper shook his head. “Clarke, I need to do this.”

“We need all the people we can get. We need a tracker.” Bellamy then shouted, “Finn, get out here!”

We waited a few moments before Finn, now with his hair shorter, came out of his tent he shared with Raven. “You guys ready to go?” He asked, Raven stepping out behind him.

“As ready as we’re going to be,” I sighed.

Our little group made its way across camp, one of the delinquents stopping just outside of the gate. “Guys, look!”

“What is that? It’s so bright.”

“It’s beautiful.”

I followed their gaze, spotting what looked to be hundreds of shooting stars falling from the sky.

“They didn’t work.” Raven mumbled, before raising her voice. “They didn’t see our flares.”

Bellamy eyed her for a moment. “A meteor shower tells you that?”

“It’s not a meteor shower, it’s a funeral.” Clarke responded. “Hundreds of bodies being returned to the earth from the ark. This is what it looks like from the other side.”

Raven spun around, moving closer to Bellamy. “This is all because of you!”

“I helped you find the radio.”

“Yeah, after you jacked it from my pod and trashed it!”

“Yeah, he knows.” Clarke spoke. “And now he has to live with it.”

I shook my head. “We don’t have time for this. Octavia is out there, alone or with grounders to keep her company. We have to find her, now. We can worry about the Ark later.”

Bellamy’s eyes landed on me for a moment, a slight smile forming across his mouth. His face soon shifted back to his normal frown as he turned back to Finn. “Are you coming, or what?”

Finn nodded.

“What are we waiting for?” Bellamy asked. “Move out!”

…

While Raven and Clarke instead headed off to find a new transmitter for the radio, the rest of us carried on with our search for Octavia. It wasn’t too long before John Mbege found something.

“Look, over here!”

Bellamy rushed over. “What is it?”

John pointed. “Isn’t that Octavia’s?”

We all looked down the hill, squinting our eyes. Finally, Bellamy shook his head. “Give me the rope.” Finn handed the rope over and Bellamy tied one end to a tree.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked.

“We need the rope to get back up,” Bellamy responded, tossing the other end of the rope down the hill. “Flashlight?”

John handed him the flashlight and Bellamy made his way down the hill. Bellamy shined his flashlight on a branch, and I instantly recognized what used to be a seatbelt on the dropship. Octavia had been using it as a belt, wanting to spice up her jumpsuit from Skybox.

“It’s hers.” Bellamy confirmed. “I’m going all the way down.”

Jasper took a deep breath, handing his torch to Finn before beginning to climb down behind Bellamy. I went next, clumsily staggering down the hill. As I neared the bottom, Bellamy extended his hand. Letting my right hand fall from the rope, I grabbed Bellamy’s, allowing him to guide me down the last few steps.

“Bellamy,” Jasper spoke, grabbing our attention.

Bellamy pushed through the brush surrounding us, kneeling down next to Jasper. I watched as he ran his finger along a rock, lifting it to reveal a small puddle of blood. Finn soon joined us, inspecting the blood and the area around it, including a larger set of footprints.

“Someone else was here,” Bellamy said.

Finn nodded. “The prints are deeper going that way. He was carrying her.”

“If they took her, she’s alive.” Jasper’s large smile soon faded. “Like when they took me.”

Bellamy shook his head, standing back up before rushing in the direction the footprints were headed. We spent what felt like an eternity following the footprints, going up and down smaller hills than the last. The sun had come up when we finally came to a clearing, right in the middle of Grounder territory.

“What the hell is that?”

I followed Roma’s gaze, chills running down my spine as I saw it. “Are those-”

“Skeletons?” Jasper finished, swallowing hard.

They were tied to trees, some only partially decomposed. I wondered if they’d been left there after death, simply to scare enemies away. Or, had they been strung up and left there to die as punishment for breaking whatever rules they lived by?

“I don’t speak Grounder, but I’m pretty sure this means keep out.” Finn said.

“Let’s get out of here.” One of the other delinquents spoke up.

A few others mumbled in agreement, following each other back the way we came.

Bellamy shook his head, his jaw tensing. “You guys can go back too, if you want. My sister, my responsibility.”

“I’d walk into hell to find her.” Jasper spoke bravely.

Finn sighed. “I think we just did.”

John, Roma and Diggs all agreed to continue the search as well.

Bellamy nodded, his eyes soon landing on me. “How about you, Athena?”

My eyes drifted back to the slowly disappearing silhouettes of the other delinquents, thinking about how much better off they’d all be for heading back. Finally, I took a deep breath. “I’m with you.”

Smiling, Bellamy nodded. “Let’s get moving.”

…

As we headed deeper into the forest, Finn stopped abruptly, kneeling down to inspect the soil. He was silent for a while, Bellamy finally kneeling down next to him.

“What’s the problem?”

“I’ve got nothing,” Finn admitted. “We lost the trail.”

Bellamy stood up, folding his arms across his chest. “Well, keep looking.”

Finn stood up. “Wandering around aimlessly isn’t the way to find your sister. We should backtrack.”

“I’m not going back.”

I shook my head. “Bellamy, if we keep going like this, we’ll never find her. Finn is right, we should go back a little bit, see if we can find other footprints to follow.”

“I already said, I’m not going back.” Bellamy spoke firmly. “I know this is the right way, alright?”

As I went to protest, Roma’s voice stopped me.

“Hey, where’s John?”

I turned around, noticing John had vanished.

“I saw him just a second ago,” Jasper said.

We all looked to Bellamy, who shook his head. “Spread out, he couldn’t have gone that far.”

Just as the words left his mouth, a body fell from the trees above us, landing in the middle of all of us. My eyes quickly shifted up the body, landing on the face. John’s face. His throat had been cut, the blood already having stopped flowing from the wound.

“They use the trees,” Finn mumbled, looking up.

I stepped away from John’s body, my own beginning to shake.

“We shouldn’t have crossed the boundary.” Diggs mumbled.

“Now can we go back?” Roma asked.

Jasper jumped slightly. “There! Right there.”

We all followed his gaze, spotting a Grounder off in the distance, a long knife in his hand.

“Another one!” Diggs called out.

My eyes shifted around the forest, spotting more and more of them surrounding us. “They’re everywhere.” I whispered.

“We should run.”

Bellamy was the first to move, the rest of us following after him. I could feel my legs growing weaker with each step I took, my body still shaking from the sight of John’s body. As soon as we thought we’d gotten far enough away from the Grounders, one would pop up ahead of us, forcing us to change directions.

“Let’s go!” Diggs called out, running ahead of everyone else.

“What are we going to do?” Jasper asked. “They keep cutting us off.”

“Just keep running!” Finn said.

“I can’t run much longer.”

“I’m not stopping for him!” Diggs called out, continuing on.

Bellamy stopped. “I’m sick of running anyways.”

The rest of us stopped, looking to Bellamy for instructions.

“What are you doing?” Finn asked.

“They know where she is.”

Roma shook her head, running off. “Diggs, where are you?”

“Roma!”

Finn spun around, running off after them. “Roma, wait!”

We followed Finn, hearing Roma scream in the distance. It wasn’t long before we came across Diggs, who had been impaled on a spike.

“They were leading us here.” Jasper mumbled. “It’s the only direction we could run in.”

Finn looked around, noticing the newfound silence. “Where’d they go?”

“After Roma.”

Finn looked around, spotting more footprints. “She went this way.”

We followed the footprints, trying our best to remain quiet, hoping to not grab the attention of any more Grounders. Eventually I spotted Roma’s jacket off in the distance, most of her body tucked behind a tree.

“There she is,” I spoke, smiling. “Roma!”

As we moved closer, my smile faded. Jasper and Finn stopped, while Bellamy and I made our way over to the tree. Roma had been pinned to the tree with a spear, just inches closer to the heart than Jasper’s had been.

“They’re playing with us.” Finn whispered.

I watched on as Bellamy used his fingers to close Roma’s eyes. “She only came because of me.”

Finn shook his head. “They can kill us whenever they want.”

Jasper looked around, raising his voice. “Then they should just get it over with!”

“Jasper, stop it!” I yelled.

“Come on, we know you’re out there!” Jasper continued. “You want to kill us? Get it over with already!”

We all watched on as Grounders rose from the bushes around us, weapons in hand, before beginning to run towards us.

“What do we do?” I asked, looking at Bellamy.

Standing back-to-back, we all remained still, unsure of what to do. There were no openings. Everywhere we looked, there was a Grounder, ready to kill us as soon as they got close enough. 

Just as hope had left me, the sound of a horn filled the air. The Grounders stopped almost instantly, looking around before running away.

“They’re leaving.” Bellamy mumbled.

“That horn,” Jasper spoke. “What does it mean?”

“Acid fog.”

“We have to run.” I said.

“There’s no time.” Finn pulled out a parachute from his pack, spreading it out. “Everyone, get under, now!”

…

We remained under the parachute for a while, all of us holding down the edges as best as we could.

“How long are we supposed to wait?” Jasper asked.

“Will this even work?”

“We’ll find out soon enough.” Finn mumbled.

Bellamy shook his head. “No we won't,” He then lifted his side of the parachute, poking his head out. “There’s no fog.”

We all pulled the parachute off of us, looking around the forest.

“Maybe it was a false alarm?”

“They’re coming back,” Bellamy noted, pointing.

Jasper shook his head. “I think he’s alone.”

“Can we get moving?” I asked. “I don’t want to be here when the rest realize the fog isn’t coming.”

“He doesn’t see us,” Bellamy said, standing up. “I’m going to follow him.”

“And what? Kill him?” Finn asked.

Bellamy shook his head. “No. Catch him. Make him tell me where Octavia is. Then I’ll kill him.”

As Bellamy ran off, Jasper sighed. “How do we know he’s not leading us into another trap?”

Finn shook his head. “We don’t.”

…

We finally caught up to Bellamy just outside of a cave. Bellamy was crouched down just a few paces from the entrance, hiding behind a rock.

“He went in there,” Bellamy said, looking back at us.

I shook my head. “We don’t know how many there are in there.”

“Keep your eyes open, your weapons drawn.”

Bellamy stood up, heading towards the cave’s entrance. We all followed close behind, doing just as he said. The cave was quiet and dark, no torches on the walls. I was almost certain that as soon as we reached an open area, Grounders would jump out and kill us all.

The open area soon came, Bellamy poking his head around the corner.

“Octavia?”

“Bellamy!”

All of us rushed around the corner, Bellamy reaching Octavia’s side while the rest of us watched the Grounder who laid passed out on the floor. Bellamy removed the chains that were around Octavia’s hands, the two wrapping their arms around each other as soon as she was free.

“It’s okay,” Bellamy whispered. “You’re okay.”

Octavia soon pulled away. “How did you find me?”

“We followed him.” Bellamy spoke, nodding towards the Grounder.

“We should go now, before he wakes up.”

Bellamy shook his head, grabbing a spear that sat off to the side. “He’s not going to wake up.”

Octavia jumped in front of him. “Bellamy, stop! He didn’t hurt me. Let’s just go.”

“They started this.” Bellamy argued. “Finn, move.”

Finn didn’t move, instead inspecting the horn attached to the Grounder’s gear. Before Finn could speak, the Grounder moved, grabbing the knife from his pocket and stabbing Finn in the chest before standing up.

Octavia and I rushed to Finn’s side, while Bellamy swung at the Grounder. The Grounder grabbed the spear from Bellamy, pinning him to the ground. I watched on as Bellamy struggled against the spear, which was now aimed at his throat.

“Stop!” Octavia yelled. “That’s my brother.”

Just as I thought Bellamy was about to meet his end, Jasper came up behind the grounder, hitting him in the head and knocking him out. Bellamy gasped for air, moving away from the Grounder.

“Finn?” I asked, noticing he’d now lost consciousness. “Finn!”

“We have to get him back to Clarke, now!” Bellamy commanded.

We once again retrieved the parachute, laying it out and placing Finn on it.

“Everyone on three.” Bellamy said. “One. Two. Three.”

We lifted the parachute in unison, rushing out of the cave and leaving the Grounder behind.

…

“Clarke!” Jaspered called out. “Where’s Clarke?”

We had just entered the gates of the camp, our tired arms struggling to keep the parachute containing Finn off the ground.

“I’m here, what’s going on?” Suddenly, Clarke’s eyes landed on Finn. “Finn? Oh, my god.”

Raven soon came to her side. “Oh, my god.”

Clarke placed her fingers against the side of Finn’s neck. “He’s alive!”

“Bellamy wouldn’t let me take the knife out.” Jasper spoke up.

“No, that was a good call.” Clarke nodded. “Get him to the dropship.”

A few other delinquents who had stayed behind at camp grabbed Finn, carrying him to the dropship.

“Can you save him?” Raven asked.

“No, not me.” Clarke whispered. “I need my mother. I need to talk to her.”

“There’s still no radio.”

“Fix it, then!” Clarke snapped. “Go!”

Raven eyed her for a moment, before running off towards the dropship. Clarke then turned to Octavia, examining her. “Are you okay?”

Octavia nodded. “I’m okay. Just worry about Finn.”

Clarke nodded, running off.

As Octavia marched towards the gate, Bellamy ran after her. “Hey, why were you defending him?”

Octavia stopped, turning around. “Because he saved my life. That spear that hit Roma was actually meant-”

“No.” Bellamy cut her off. “I saved your life. For all you know he was keeping you alive to use you as bait for one of their traps.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes, raising his voice. “You don’t think, O! That’s the problem. They killed three of our people today. If you would’ve let me kill him when I had the chance, Finn wouldn’t be in there dying right now too!”

Octavia’s fists balled up, her face turning red. “Stop it! Stop blaming me for your mistakes! What happened to Finn is not my fault. I wanted to leave, so if Finn dies in there, that’s on you! Everything that’s gone wrong is because of you.”

“Octavia-” I spoke, to no avail.

“You got me locked up on the Ark. You wanted me to go to that stupid dance! You got mom killed!”

Bellamy flinched, Octavia’s words hitting him like he’d never felt before. I watched his eyes swell up, tears forming in them but failing to fall. He wouldn’t let them. Finally, he spoke, his voice breaking. “Me?”

Octavia nodded.

“Mom was floated for having you. She’s dead because you’re alive. That was her choice. I didn’t have a choice.” Bellamy shook his head. “My life ended the day you were born.”

Octavia flinched as well, Bellamy’s words hitting her just as hers had hit him. She attempted to turn away, moving towards the gate, Bellamy instead grabbing her arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Octavia yanked her arm away. “You can’t keep me locked up in here forever.”

With that, Octavia ran off towards the dropship. 

“Octavia, wait!” I called out, but she didn’t listen.

I then turned to Bellamy, his face pale as his eyes lingered on his sister. He finally turned to me, his eyes quickly falling to the floor. I couldn’t help but shake my head, feeling angry for Octavia. 

Before I could tell Bellamy off, I noticed a boy lingering outside of the gate. “Get inside, now!” I hissed.

The boy ran inside as I approached the gate, staring up at the sky.

“A storm’s coming.” Bellamy mumbled from behind me.

“We’re so screwed.” I nodded, closing the gate.

~

next chapter

[ckret2]

So I've been deeply pulled into the Radiosnake pairing bc of your fantastic writing! Problem is, now I have fic ideas but no knowledge of the Hazbin background. Can you tellI me where I can get more Hazbin info? I've only watched the pilot and read your stuff. I heard there were comics??

That is an excellent question anon, because right now it is really hard to get Hazbin background easily.

Okay, so, the canon info on Hazbin Hotel can be sort of sorted into four tiers, from most to least canon.

Tier 1: The Definitely Canon

There is, of course, the pilot. And then there is an Angel Dust prequel comic, only seven pages of which have been released so far. We’ve been told it’s gonna be finished and we’ve had glimpses of in-progress prequel comics for a couple other characters—most prominently Alastor’s and Charlie’s—but so far that unfinished Angel Dust comic is the only one that’s been officially released.

Finding the in-progress comic pages is... a challenge. Nobody, as far as I can tell, has been specifically collecting all of the pages we’ve seen so far. I was able to scrounge up:

Couple more Angel pages

some Alastor pages

another Alastor page

a random Alastor panel

another random Alastor panel—I’ve seen the full page of this before, Alastor goes “Hello ladies!” and they go “HELLO ALASTOR~<3″ but I can’t find the full page now

There’s a smattering more canon panels on the artist faustisse’s twitter, but I haven’t dug them all out, and some of the posts I’m gonna link in a lil bit have a glimpse of another panel.

If you haven’t already heard of Helluva Boss, I recommend looking into it as well. It’s a second series being created by the same folks, different cast of characters but set in the same version of Hell, so any canon details we learn in Helluva also apply to Hazbin.

Helluva’s pilot is here. Plus a cute music video here.

Earlier this month, during a BLM charity stream hosted by show artist Ashley Nichols—she runs regular streams under the title “HuniCast”—they released a few sneak peaks of future Helluva scenes, all compiled here.

And that’s it for canon. Two pilots, a music video, a smattering of future scenes, part of one comic, a few WIP pages/panels from other comics.

Tier 2: Pseudo-Canon

Everything else we currently know about Hazbin (and Helluva) are things that the creators have told us. Consequently, they’re all pseudo-canon—and likely subject to change in the future as the shows and comics are further developed and released. Some details that were released/described in the past have been contradicted at other times, or else radically changed by the time the pilot came out.

(For example, when Alastor was first created years and years ago as an OC with no plans for Hazbin, he was a demon deer who could shapeshift into a human shape—now he’s a demonized human with a few deer traits. And Charlie and Cherri Bomb used to look very different.)

So until and unless they make it into canon, all these pseudo-canon details are subject to change and should be taken with a grain of salt—but, they also comprise most of what we know about the characters’ backstory and the as-yet-unaired characters.

Pseudo-canon info on Hazbin is scattered mainly between two sources: the creators’ twitter accounts, and livestreams where they take questions and talk about the making of the show. If you and livestreams do not get along (my ADHD and livestreams do not get along), or if you don’t want to wade years and years back into twitter accounts to dig up every scrap of info on the characters the creators have ever mentioned, collating all the pseudo-canon info is gonna be hard. (It’s gonna be hard even if you do want to sit through the streams and dig through all their tweets.) Lots of fans, me included, depend on the absolutely heroic work of various fans who are willing and able to watch hours-long streams and collate a list of canon factoids released during the streams. I’ve reblogged as many of these posts as I’ve been able to find:

Alastor’s sound design (on twitter)

Alastor's Sound Design (post I made with screenshots of weird—but very interesting—subtitles slipped into the aforementioned video)

Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb’s sound design

Niffty and Husk’s sound design

Charlie, Katie, and Tom’s sound design

Intro song’s sound design

Happy Hotel’s sound design

details from Faustisse (including a pic of a couple costume designs. Most of these posts come from zatyrlucy, who’s been doing a fantastic job of going stream-by-stream to get lists of details from the regular streams by Ashley Nichols and by comic artist Faustisse.)

more details from Faustisse (including a pic of the Von Eldritch family dining room)

Faustisse 3 (better look at that table)

Dollymoon’s Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART ONE (Shoutout again to dollymoon for compiling these, we’ve never spoken but I am eternally grateful for this service. Dollymoon’s posts are THE single most reliable compilation of Hazbin Hotel’s nebulous pseudo-canon facts that I have found to date, including both links to the sources and timestamps where applicable. Dollymoon’s URL has changed since making this post so the “read more” link doesn’t work but the “source” or “reblogged from” links direct correctly to the new blog. Incidentally, the risk of other blog creators deleting their blogs/posts or changing their URLs is why in info posts like these, I always link to my own reblogs rather than their original posts—their original posts might vanish without warning, but I know I ain’t gonna delete my posts, so these links will still work in the future.)

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART TWO

Hazbin Hotel Facts - PART THREE

Faustisse 4

HuniCast - Australian Wildlife Relief charity stream

I think this was a faustisse stream (the original source deleted these posts, so the comic pages that were originally behind that read more cut are now gone.)

Faustisse stream 6?

And those are all the masterposts of factoids I’ve managed to collect. If anyone has more masterposts, chuck ‘em at me.

Even this isn’t all the knowledge that’s been released about the show. The posts that dig the farthest back are Dollymoon’s, and even they don’t comprehensively cover all of Hazbin’s production. A couple of these characters, Vivziepop created as a teenager, so there’s some truly ancient concept art floating around out there that will have details that probably aren’t canon anymore... but might still be until something happens to actively contradict them.

Tier 3: The Wiki

The wiki is kind of an absolute mess. It’s a chaotic blend of things actually seen in the pilots/comic, things mentioned at some point in some stream somewhere, and wild fan speculation based on what they headcanon as plausible based on the above, all mixed together with very little indication for which is canon, pseudo-canon, fanon, or speculation. Most of the statements on the wiki don’t have citations.

(And, on top of that, half the main characters’ info gets split up into separate tabs instead of just having a normal-ass wiki page, AND their image galleries are on COMPLETELY SEPARATE pages that are linked to in one of the tabs, and the most important characters all have TWO SEPARATE GALLERIES. Which doesn’t have anything to do with the quality of the facts hidden underneath those tabs, but nevertheless drives me up the wall.)

Some things on the wiki were added according to info released so long ago it’s probably changed by now. Some are possibilities that got reported as facts. Other things on the wiki have unambiguously changed, or else are just flat-out incorrect. (For instance, at this moment Alastor’s page still lists him as an overlord, even though it's been confirmed that Alastor is not an overlord despite his power level because he isn’t interested in and didn’t pursue that position, per this stream. For a little bit, somebody’s fanart of their headcanon human Alastor got added to the wiki as concept art.)

tl;dr: the wiki should never be trusted as a primary source. The wiki’s better than it used to be. Even so, at this time, it’s only trustworthy to fill in the gaps of what you already know is true from other, better sources.

The thing it’s good at is it more or less compiles all the known info all in one place. Trying to figure out who the hell this Vox guy is is really hard if you’re reading for mentions of him in compilations of a dozen different streams, much less if you’re trying to comb through those dozen streams yourself, plus a dozen more, plus three different artists’ twitters. In comparison, it’s really easy to, say, just go look at Vox’s wiki page, where all the trivia is compiled. (And Vox’s page is actually one of the better cited on the wiki. Look at all those numbers!)

So, if you need to find out who this character is you’ve never heard of before, if you want to see a full list of the thus far named characters, if you don’t remember whether Alastor likes coffee or tea, if you want to know what Angel’s twin sister looks like, if you need a reminder of Sir Pentious’s death year... check the wiki. It’s an okay starting point.

But, if you see a “fact” on the wiki that you yourself don’t remember from straight out of the pilot, and it doesn’t have a citation that links to a tweet or a stream... regard it suspiciously. And do not trust it unquestioningly as fact until and unless you have seen the source.

Tier 4: Noncanon Creator Shitposting

I’ve mentioned Ashley’s HuniCast streams a couple times. The biggest draw of them is that she usually gets several of the voice actors in the streams, where they’ll happily say nonsense in their character voices. For the most part, they’re not sharing any actual canon info they’ve been given on their characters, just goofing around pretending to be their characters. Nevertheless, a lot of the things that happen in streams get accepted as broad fandom headcanons, like Alastor being into dad jokes. (My favorite, for obvious reasons, is this one.)

It’s easy to find the source audio for all this wonderful nonsense by searching youtube for “HuniCast highlights,” and then rummaging around for animatics people make out of the audio. The only one noncanon video of this sort I can think of that didn’t originally come from HuniCast is a lone one from Alastor’s singing voice (who’s a different voice actor than his speaking voice).

So, obviously, none of these are canon. But they do come from some of the people actually involved in the creation of the show, and they are in the characters’ canon voices, so a whole lot of people treat them as semi-canon anyway. (Even the wiki lists “dad jokes” among Alastor’s likes, which to my knowledge hasn’t come up anywhere except for HuniCast streams.) Since they’re so broadly-known, they’re worth knowing about as important sources of fanon, even if you don’t want to adopt them into your own headcanons. They’re basically the same level of canon as blooper reels.

[cherrybombfangirl]

Bad Things Happen Bingo -Please Don’t Leave Me

Here’s the first one! @badthingshappenbingo​

Fandom: Ninjago (Set a few months after S5)

Characters: Lloyd and Amy (Canon Character and My OC)

Warnings: Some swearing, PTSD, mention of death

Summary: Lloyd has a bad Morro nightmare, and gets up to go check on Amy

Word Count: 697

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Lloyd’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, panting. It took him a few seconds to realize that he was alone, on the Bounty, in his room. He grappled wildly at his chest and arms to make sure the chains weren’t there. 

Images from the nightmare he just had were running laps in his head. Morro and the other ghosts laughing, the chains around his chest and arms that prevented him from doing anything but watch and scream and yell and beg for the ghost not to do it, and Amy…… dead in a pool of her own blood.

He had had a few nightmares like this recently, so it was normal right? Fear tightened his chest as Lloyd swallowed harshly. He had to make sure. He had to know for certain that she wasn’t hurt, and that she was safe. He got out of bed, opened the door of his room as quietly as possible, and silently made his way down the dimly lit hallway.

He knocked softly on the third door down. There was no point in just opening the door and peeking inside, his girlfriend was too light of a sleeper, and she had assassin instincts. Plus, her door was locked.

About half a minute later, the door opened to a very sleepy, half awake Amy. She wore a loose grey tank top over a purple sports bra, black bands hiding her number tattoo and crescent moon birthmark, and in black sweats, her hair in a haphazard messy bun on the back of her head. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What the hell it’s fucking four in the mor-”

Lloyd sighed with relief, and her expression (in her eyes, not her face because it rarely showed her emotions) changed from annoyance to concern. “Lloyd? What’s wrong?”

“I-” Lloyd whispered, having a hard time finding his voice as the images continued to flash in the back of his mind. “I had to……….. I had to make sure you were OK.”

“What happened?” Amy asked, her face blank of any emotion, but eyes filled with worry.

It took a few moments for Loyd to find his voice, but even then, he could only get out one muttered word. “Nightmare.”

Amy relaxed a little, but the concern in her eyes was still very much there. “Oh. Are you OK now, or do you need something else?”

Lloyd managed to shake his head and murmur, “No, I’m fine.” Amy started to shut the door, and he changed his mind. “Actually-” Amy paused, and Bolt padded over, nudging Lloyd’s knee with his snout. Lloyd asked, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, “Can I…... sleep with you tonight?” 

He was pretty hesitant to ask. Even though he and Amy had been dating for a while now (almost a whole year to be exact), there were still quite a few things he didn’t know when it came to relationships. Things like this.

Amy let him in without a hint of hesitation. Neither one actually slept that night. They both just lay awake on Amy’s bed, quietly cuddling under the thick blankets. Bolt lay at their feet, acting as a hot water bottle in the chilly night, dozing. They faced each other, hugging, Amy with her back to the door and Lloyd with his arms wrapped protectively around her.

After laying like that for a while, Amy noticed her boyfriend’s pained, distant silence in the dark and quietly asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?” Lloyd asked. Amy couldn’t see his expression, it was too dark- even for her, but she could hear it in his voice how much he was hurting.

“Your nightmare,” Amy said, keeping her voice low, “It might help, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Lloyd was silent for a minute. “He-” Lloyd finally whispered, “Morro- he……. He killed you and- I was tied up, I couldn’t do anything but watch and- and…..” he trailed off as his voice cracked a little.

“Lloyd…..” Amy said, pulling him close and starting to gently rub his back, “No wonder you came to check on me.”

Lloyd sucked in a breath as a few hot tears slipped out. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Amy assured him, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

[prince-everhard]

Prince’s Whumptober 2020 masterpost

Gonna have links, titles, summaries, and all that jazz under a readmore because i decided to really push myself and do all 31 prompts separately. Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged my work; your support means the world to me and makes me want to keep writing! 

multiparters here have been listed in chronological order rather than posting order for ease of reading. 

FAHC

No 1. LET’S HANG OUT SOMETIME Waking Up Restrained | Shackled | Hanging

Title: another duck joins the flock Fandom: FAHC Character(s): Geoff, Michael Rating: T Warning(s): blood, handcuffs Wordcount: 728 Summary: Or how the Fakes gained their most famous muscle. [tidied up/expanded this never-to-be-posted fahc wip for whumptober]

Naruto

No 2. IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY “Pick Who Dies” | Collars | Kidnapped

Title: and the worst part of waiting is the anticipation Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Team 7 Rating: T Warning(s): blood, vomit Wordcount: 951 Summary: Team Seven gets captured. [part of the whumptober au]

No 3. MY WAY OR THE HIGHWAY Manhandled | Forced to their Knees | Held at Gunpoint

Title: A Teaching Moment Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Sakura, Kabuto Rating: T Warning(s): none Wordcount: 498 Summary: Kabuto makes her an offer she can’t refuse. [part of the whumptober au]

No 29. I THINK I NEED A DOCTOR Intubation | Emergency Room | Reluctant Bedrest

Title: Graduation Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Sakura, Kabuto, Rating: T+? Warning(s): blood Wordcount: 835 Summary: Kabuto has one more test before Sakura can be considered a true medic-nin. [part of the whumptober au]

No 15. INTO THE UNKNOWN Possession | Magical Healing | Science Gone Wrong

Title: Arboreal Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Sakura Rating: T Warning(s): needles Wordcount: 803 Summary: It was only a matter of time before Sakura found something that could help her escape. [part of the whumptober au]

No 9. FOR THE GREATER GOOD “Take Me Instead” | “Run!” | Ritual Sacrifice

Title: no good deed goes unpunished Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Naruto, Teuchi, Kyuubi Rating: T Warning(s): violence against children Wordcount: 972 Summary: Something goes wrong on his seventh birthday. Naruto might never be the same again.

No 26. IF YOU THOUGHT THE HEAD TRAUMA WAS BAD… Migraine | Concussion | Blindness

Title: Degradation Fandom: Naruto Character(s): Kakashi, Sakura, Naruto Rating: T Warning(s): dismemberment ment Wordcount: 187 Summary: Kakashi knows that power comes with a price.

Dragon Age

No 6. PLEASE…. “Get it Out” | No More | “Stop, please”

Title: Like Dogs Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Tabris, Shianni, Soris, Nelaros Rating: M Warning(s): implied/offscreen rape, violence against women, blood Wordcount: 1640 Summary: It was supposed to be a good thing, getting married. It wasn’t. [this is really just a love letter to the origin that fucking shooketh me]

No 19. BROKEN HEARTS Grief | Mourning Loved One | Survivor’s Guilt

Title: all’s fair but war is not without casualties Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s)/Pairing(s): Female Cousland, Alistair; ex-Alistair/Warden Rating: T Warning(s): none Wordcount: 695 Summary: Ten years after the Blight ends, Elissa Cousland runs into someone she never thought she’d see again. It, uh, doesn’t go quite as planned. [mostly canon compliant; Loghain is spared and becomes a warden]

No 11. PSYCH 101 Defiance | Struggling | Crying

Title: Duty Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Cousland, Eleanor, Bryce Rating: T Warning(s): blood, betrayal, last stand Wordcount: 633 Summary: Even without interference, history marches on. A what-if scenario if Duncan wasn’t there to recruit the Cousland. [part of iron & ash]

No 23. WHAT’S A WHUMPEE GOTTA DO TO GET SOME SLEEP AROUND HERE? Exhaustion | Narcolepsy | Sleep Deprivation

Title: To Ostagar Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Cousland Rating: T Warning(s): none Wordcount: 545 Summary: Jasmine is determined to get vengeance for her family. [part of iron & ash]

No 14. IS SOMETHING BURNING? Branding | Heat Exhaustion | Fire

Title: Consequences Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Surana Rating: T Warning(s): none Wordcount: 368 Summary: Surana helps her best friend escape the Circle, and the consequences are more than she bargained for.

No 21. I DON’T FEEL SO WELL Chronic Pain | Hypothermia | Infection

Title: Corrupted Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Mahariel, Duncan Rating: Gen Warning(s): none Wordcount: 192 Summary: It’s a long journey from the Brecilian Forest to Ostagar for someone with blight sickness.

No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE Experiment | Whipped | Left for Dead

Title: Big Sister Instinct Fandom: Dragon Age Character(s): Female Hawke, Unnamed Templars Rating: T Warning(s): torture, violence against women Wordcount: 325 Summary: Marian Hawke would rather die than betray her family. She might even just get the chance to do it.

Mass Effect

No 4. RUNNING OUT OF TIME Caged | Buried Alive | Collapsed Building

Title: never forget to bury your regret (before it buries you) Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Male Shepard, Human OC Rating: T Warning(s): cave-in, blood, character death Wordcount: 450 Summary: Survival training goes south in the ICT.

No 7. I’VE GOT YOU Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker

Title: First Contact Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Turian OC, Human OC Rating: T Warning(s): injuries, broken bones, vomit, vehicular crash Wordcount: 1150 Summary: Decimus isn’t ready to die, but he’s especially not ready to die on a stupid scouting mission to a stupid alien colony. [set during the First Contact War; probably not canon-compliant but idgaf]

No 18. PANIC! AT THE DISCO Panic Attacks | Phobias | Paranoia

Title: what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger (and what does makes you scarred forever) Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard, Edi, Tali’Zorah, Garrus Vakarian Rating: T Warning(s): panic attack, open space Wordcount: 662 Summary: Shepard isn’t afraid of getting spaced. No, really. [a closer look at the geth dreadnought mission]

No 28. SUCH WOW. MANY NORMAL. VERY OOPS. Accidents | Hunting Season | Mugged

Title: Torfan Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard, Major Kyle Rating: T Warning(s): blood, guns, drugging Wordcount: 589 Summary: How the Butcher came to be.

No 25. I THINK I’LL JUST COLLAPSE RIGHT HERE, THANKS Disorientation | Blurred Vision | Ringing Ears

Title: Rest Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s)/Pairing(s): Female Shepard, Anderson; referenced Shepard/Vega Rating: T Warning(s): blood, character death Wordcount: 1018 Summary: A father-daughter moment after they open the arms of the Citadel. [part of Alder]

No 5. WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING? On the Run | Failed Escape | Rescue

Title: they found you on the floor Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard Rating: T Warning(s): alcohol, vomit, underage drinking Wordcount: 348 Summary: Like mother like daughter; Shepard deals with her trauma after Mindoir. [part of Gloria Shepard]

No 22. DO THESE TACOS TASTE FUNNY TO YOU? Poisoned | Drugged | Withdrawal

Title: there’s easier ways to die Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard, Ashley Williams Rating: T Warning(s): DTs, vomit mention Wordcount: 368 Summary: Shepard takes a stand against her own demons. [part of Gloria Shepard]

No 17. I DID NOT SEE THAT COMING Blackmail | Dirty Secret | Wrongfully Accused

Title: you crawled up on your cross Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard, Jacob Taylor Rating: T Warning(s): alcohol Wordcount: 645 Summary: Shepard gets a morale boost from a crewmate. [part of Gloria Shepard]

No 16. A TERRIBLE, HORRIBLE, NO GOOD, VERY BAD DAY Forced to Beg | Hallucinations | Shoot the Hostage

Title: Cornered Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Garrus, Female Shepard Rating: T Warning(s): broken bones Wordcount: 1281 Summary: Garrus gets into some trouble. [part of the omega non-reaper au]

No 20. TOTO, I HAVE A FEELING WE’RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE Lost | Field Medicine | Medieval

Title: Ancient History Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Female Shepard, Garrus Rating: T Warning(s): injuries, death, self-destructive/suicidal actions Wordcount: 1223 Summary: Jane is an enigma and Garrus just wants to figure her out. [part of the omega non-reaper au]

No 8. WHERE DID EVERYBODY GO? “Don’t Say Goodbye” | Abandoned | Isolation

Title: After Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s): Garrus, Female Shepard Rating: T Warning(s): injuries, death Wordcount: 440 Summary: Jane comes for Garrus after the gangs’ assault. [part of the omega non-reaper au]

No 30. NOW WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Wound Reveal | Ignoring an Injury | Internal Organ Injury

Title: Debt Fandom: Mass Effect Character(s)/Pairing(s): Garrus, Female Shepard, Mordin; mutual pining Shakarian Rating: T Warning(s): painkillers Wordcount: 590 Summary: After the gangs’ assault, Garrus overhears something. [part of the omega non-reaper au]

Undertale

No 13. BREATHE IN BREATHE OUT Delayed Drowning | Chemical Pneumonia | Oxygen Mask

Title: Drowning Fandom: Undertale Character(s): Toriel, Asgore Rating: T Warning(s): character death, child death Wordcount: 156 Summary: Asriel brought Chara home one last time.

[replacing no. 27] Alt 7. Found Family

Title: The Door Fandom: Undertale Character(s): Frisk, Papyrus, Sans Rating: Gen Warning(s): none Wordcount: 357 Summary: Just a little look at what could be a meeting with Gaster

Red vs Blue

No 12. I THINK I’VE BROKEN SOMETHING Broken Down | Broken Bones | Broken Trust

Title: Being a twin is a Hard Thing Fandom: Red vs Blue Character(s): South Dakota Rating: T Warning(s): psychological trauma Wordcount: 281 Summary: In the days before Wash finds them, South gets… introspective. [canon compliant? taken from a wip I was never going to finish so I fleshed it out for whumptober instead]

Original Fiction

No 10. THEY LOOK SO PRETTY WHEN THEY BLEED Blood Loss | Internal Bleeding | Trail of Blood

Title: please leave a message Rating: T Warning(s): blood Wordcount: 537 Summary: A detective’s work is never done. Antonia deals with the news that her most famous case’s subject is on the run again. [original fiction]

No 24. YOU’RE NOT MAKING ANY SENSE Forced Mutism | Blindfolded | Sensory Deprivation

Title: Secondary Location Rating: Gen? Warning(s): kidnapping Wordcount: 143 Summary: Antonia wakes up on the wrong side of the city. [original fiction]

[gothsic]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO. in his own head maybe

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. lol what fandom does jo have a fandom here???

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. ???

Are they underrated?  YES / NO. / IDK. jo thinks he’s underrated does that count??

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE PROTAG.

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL.

How strictly do you follow canon?  — Jo is the master of his own story so yeah. I’m following my own canon and whatever I come up with to a T ( unless some good suggestions in writer’s workshops or even here come up! ). He is the main character of my limited series pilot that I hope to write soon called The Insomnia Trap.

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  —  Jonathan has many sides to him. The child of mixed Latinx parents and the youngest of three kids, he has had a relatively normal life ( save for early childhood, when he killed his mother by “accident” - should’ve mentioned that! ) and his very long goth phase in middle/high school, but always deemed himself to be on the outskirts of society. Because he was aware from a young age that he was simultaneously unwanted and unplanned, Jonathan came out of his upbringing with the idea that he never should have existed. This planted in him a very nihilistic, misandrist, and generally flippant view of the world despite pursuing his dream to work in comics and cartoons. Though he was hungry for recognition and dreamed of a world not on Earth, he often found himself to be a ghost wandering the streets of town, looking in on the people having fun in their homes without understanding why they were happy. His insomnia developed when he in his teens, though he still had trouble sleeping as a child after seeing his mother’s mangled corpse at the bottom of the stairs - his doing, of course. Whether he lives with the guilt or not is up to you to decide; it’s my personal feeling that there is a part of him, the human part of him, that feels horrible about what he did. He feels monstrous for it, in fact. This is part of the reason why, if he gets extremely close to someone, he warns them that he’s not a good person; the shred of good left in him. But he also feels his “metamorphosis” into the nihilist that he is today was inevitable, given that he was never supposed to exist in the first place. It should be mentioned, of course, that this nasty cocktail of things has not only stressed his insomnia, but he eventually was pushed into going to a sleep clinic to get to the bottom of his problems once and for all. He only encountered an extremely traumatic lucid dream that forced him to confront his past head-on. He was unable to save his rotting humanity ( D., a small girl that looked like his character Deirdre ), and was eaten alive by The Other, a creature that looked like a younger version of himself and eventually absorbed him into itself. He awoke, now in what can only be described as a constant lucid dream in waking life. He encounters monsters and hallucinations from his dreamspace frequently, and will sometimes see D.’s forest crop up in his backyard. To this day, he still believes D. is alive and well - and, of course, that the object of his obsession, the one person who ever understood him in his point of view, Annie Kaye, is going to one day return to him as he’s always dreamed. Sadly, she could want nothing less to do with his sorry ass.

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?).  —   Around the time that The Insomnia Trap was simply going to be a screenplay, I workshopped it every few weeks in my senior Screenwriting class in undergraduate school. The overwhelming response I got was that Jonathan was abhorrent, creepy, and the question a lot of people had was why we were following him versus Adri, his ex girlfriend who was documenting his struggles with insomnia. My only answer to this is that is the point - you aren’t supposed to necessarily like him, I instead invite you to understand why he does the things he does. I’m asking you to do something you don’t like, something that makes you uncomfortable, maybe. I don’t believe entertainment in any capacity should be forced to be all about how “great” a person someone is. He’s a horrible person you can observe at a safe distance, and pick apart - a real puzzle who has his nasty qualities and his strangely good qualities mixed into one. I’m not asking you to forgive him, either. I’m asking you to see him for what he is and judge him for yourself. Jonathan is a gigantic mess of things - he’s deeply traumatized, but has chosen to live a life where he’s given in to his narcissism and self-importance, and he’s deeply hurt many people in his life - the most obvious being Annie, whom he feels he “deserves” after suffering so much in his life ( sure... ). He is in many ways a deeply unlikable character, and I wrote him keeping this in mind. That said, he has his better qualities, though they’re few and far between, that I think can keep him human in the eyes of the audience ( his love of animals, guilt towards his mother’s death, his intense self hatred, his genuine love for his nieces and nephews and for children in general, etc. ). Since he’s the protagonist of The Insomnia Trap, I can only hope that he is a complex and interesting enough character to follow for audiences if/when the limited series gets picked up!

What inspired you to rp your muse?  — Jonathan is based off of a very long personal experience I had, and I’ve always been fascinated by intense psychological horror. The two things came together, at first, when I was 12 and simply evolved from there. Originally, the project was going to be an animated flash movie that was divided into parts - but that of course never happened, I was too young and too impatient to ever do that. Over time, I ended up focusing Jonathan’s character, and he first appeared in high school - sophomore year, actually, in a different context. He’s been in development for a very long time, in other words, and I grew fascinated with a variety of different concepts over the years that got incorporated into his story ( doppelgangers, lucid dreaming, revenge, obsession, tragic protagonists, etc. )! He is one of the most intimate characters I’ve ever created, and I love him to death.

What keeps your inspiration going?  —  Music is a big one, there are specific songs I want to get the rights to use in the project if it ever gets made, and that really helps keep me focused on this blog and develop Jonathan further. Also, threading with my fellow muns and seeing how Jo evolves over time. What’s he capable of? Can he change? Is he capable of change, or is he afraid of it? These are questions that are asked with each character he interacts with, and I sincerely live for it. Also, drawing helps me out a lot too - maybe you’ll see The Insomnia Trap in webcomic form soon... just a thought!

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO / no idea honestly lmao

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO / depends!

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES - I also draw them! / NO, I HATE DRABBLES.

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day? YES! / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO / sorta

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / HAHA NO.

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. / though i can handle critique, film school definitely hardens you to that!

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  —  I do. I’ve been explicitly told Jonathan is disgusting and totally unlikable by people to my face, and I have made leaps and strides to prevent my portrayal from going completely in the “this person is deplorable” category that was tempting to head towards. It’s easy to explore someone’s bad side rather than explore their good side, which I can forget about with him. That said, critique really does help me develop my writing further, and I desperately need it even if it can be hard to hear sometimes!

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?  —  I love questions. If people ask me questions, I do my best to answer no matter what they may be. They can be challenging sometimes, but that’s what makes it so fun!

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?  —  Sure, I’m happy to hear what people have to say. I may not agree with it, but hearing different perspectives is so important in my point of view.

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?  —  As well as I could. It can be frustrating, but everyone’s tastes are different, so I don’t really take it personally and move on. I’m really here to do what I want to do in the end, as the rest of us are, so I try to prioritize that over any negative feelings I might have.

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?  —  Again, I just let it be. I’m used to people not really understanding Jonathan or not caring for him while understanding him, and that’s fine! Everyone has their preferences for what they like in leading characters or just characters in general. He is a triggering character with very triggering themes, and I’m writing him from a very prolonged experience I had ( and it’s very cathartic ) so I can understand why people may not want to engage with him or with me. I’m perfectly fine with it and invite people to put themselves first, and I move on like I mentioned in the above question.

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?  —  Yes! Please go for it. I literally do not proof my replies before I post them half the time so feel free to let me know if I misuse words or put commas/colons/semicolons or whatever out of place.

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?   — I think so! I try to be open and inviting to everyone I speak to here, and always encourage people to come talk to me if they’d like to. No pressure though! Roleplay is for fun, and it shouldn’t be anxiety inducing or any kind of work - do things at your own pace here, that’s what I say ( though I’m trying to follow my own advice! ).

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

Tagged by:  @forseenclade !!. thank you flower... luv Tagging: whomstever wants to !! feel free to tag me so i can see !!