#paradox bandit

[live-at-fortune-city]

clean pics from the nmh3 site because idk if anyone else has posted em all together lol

[incorrect-no-more-heroes-quotes]

Submitted by @/sussman_isaac on Twitter

[jumpscaregoose]

screenshot redraws because I'm feeling very normal about them

original screenshots + nonsense under cut

for some reason the clip I yoinked these from was cropped to an approximation of a 4:3 aspect ratio and munched by compression and that spoke to me. so mine are in 4:3. fuck it we ball

and then when I was working on allen I went to lock transparent pixels and somehow wound up pasting the yugioh reference from jjk 240 onto there and thought it was hilarious so

[shinakazami1]

Rhys AI au snippet nr 2 - Personal project

Jack used to love fast travel years ago and while he still found them as if not more useful, his body seemed to disagree. For whatever reason, it was his muscles that kept getting smitten by it. It didn't matter that he felt them already on the planet - he still could run errands quite well, and there was nothing a bit of healing couldn't fix. Too bad that didn't work on the nausea that kept lingering for a day.

He gave a finger gun and a wink to the secretary - whoever this one was, and walked into his office.

"Welcome back, handsome."

"Hiya Rhysie! Missed me?"

"Always, it's not like you carry me in your echo watch everywhere."

Jack bounced from one leg to the other, and then with a last swirl sat in his throne, to turn on the computer.

"Jack, you will have a meeting in two hou-"

"I know I know, cupcake, don't remind me. Dahl just wants to lose some men and piss me off. They are really taking that l in the name seriously."

"Because they're losers."

"Precisely! But there I got my morning coffee by lessening the bandit... number..."

"Hm? Is something wrong?"

Jack's brows furrowed.  As per usual, he first checked his echo device, to see if anyone tried to spy on him. He never thought it was likely for bandits to figure out how to multitask, and since they were all busy dying, they certainly wouldn't even think about doing something like that. It didn't mean, however, that someone else couldn't use that thinking and opportunity to their advantage.

Seeing the few gigabytes added to Rhys' files was not something he expected. He thought he encrypted and hid the guy's code well enough for nobody to even be able to tell he was even there but the number of gigabytes added from the past copy seemed just too suspicious.

"Rhysie, are you feeling any... Different?"

"Different in what way, sir?"

"Heavier."

After a moment of silence, Rhys sighed.

"I really don't think comments about weight are good for your image, sir. It can come as really-"

"No, as in yes, I know that but- I meant your files. Had anything happened to them? "

"Happened?"

"Yeah like, like uh, something was added. Your travel notes are never THAT heavy, even if they are boring."

"I try to get all the details out there and it's not my fault you need everything to be a dopamine rush experience. I like focusing on things that might be useful."

"That one Loader Bot corpse still hadn't come in handy, Rhysie."

"It has been as we updated their shields and weak spots."

"Yeah, it's pretty funny how their crotch was--wait, we are getting off the topic. And you're not panicking so, this means you know what the additional files are."

"You could always open them, sir."

"Yes, since I see it's your encriptions system but what is this supposed to be, kiddo? You working for someone else?"

"You know that's impossible. If I were to do that, I would just cease to exist. You made me this way."

Once the code breaker finished encrypting the files, Jack opened the folder and felt his brows furrow even further.

"Pictures."

"Yes."

"Of what."

"I... Would prefer for you not to open them. I'm going to count the sand grains on them when I'm bored."

"What's the password."

"Jack, you told me I can have my personal project."

"Personal doesn't mean secret. What is this, huh? Are you planning to sell these pictures somewhere? Maybe get some of my angles on Echo Net?"

"No... it's a stupid little project."

'And you would know that if you already opened it but you want to torment me', Rhys thought.  Yet, he decided Jack's blood pressure was already getting into grade 3  hypertension, so he wasn't going to make him angrier.

It was Jack's weird way to show trust but also, to assert dominance and Rhys never understood why humans wasted their energy on being a walking box for paradoxes.

"Sooooo... Cupcake, short and simple. What are these pictures."

"Of you. Sir."

Jack was really checking the boundaries of furrowing eyebrows.

"Rhysie, I was just joking about selling some pictures on Echo Net. Are you..."

"I do edit them, sir. Personal project."

For the first time since Jack Sat next to the desk, his facial muscles finally relaxed, letting the eyebrows rest. Something seemed to click in Jack's brain, letting him not feel in danger anymore.

"The new posters! My, you've been trying to get them out before my birthday to make me a present? Rhysie, you know I hate surprises! I despise them and I could in fact destroy you for one! You should remember it by now! Especially since I check the propaganda to seem most a-hole-like! "

"Yes, and you do a great job with it. A true antihero."

"A true anti-villain. Which is a hero."

"Of course, sir."

"Well then - show me the pictures, Rhys."

Rhys saw that the 'sweet' mode didn't lower Jack's pressure. He liked to shift in emotions so much to make people confused but Rhys was - well, rather embarrassed to say what the photos were actually about. He was happy to have at least had the project hidden for a few weeks, keeping the amount in control but for the past few weeks of Jack just killing bandits most of the time, he had enough time to spare on that.

He knew Jack would take a look somehow without him knowing one way or another. And with how little censor he had on himself, Rhys wasn't willing to risk getting back to the Nice Kid phase. Jack's poster acting was top notch - but the fake familiarity was a technique many fell for. Rhys fortunately couldn't.

But in the end, Jack got what he asked for, as usual.

"These... You've made my body, right sir? You remember that 3D model you've made?"

"Cupcake, I don't work, I commissioned someone to get your sweet ass there. Get to the point."

"You hadn't let me use it for a while now and I thought that I still like it. So, since it's in my programming, I... Just open the first picture, sir."

Jack didn't even let the mouse twitch for a moment. He wanted Rhys to open it, to commit to confessing to whatever bad thing he imagined but Rhys only found it stupid.

Unfortunately for him, though, the anxiety protocol, while a bit tamer than in the past, was still strong. And Rhys was really not looking forward to repeating the last time it got too high, especially since Jack made it this much better for this whole mission he has been on. And Rhys really didn't want to feel something so unbearable nearly all the time, again.

With the need to just get it over with, Rhys opened the newest file and waited for Jack's reaction.

There was a momentary spike in blood pressure but just a moment later, both it and the pulse lowered. The analysis of Jack's facial muscles made Rhys relax again, as the anger and frustration morphed into joy and laughter.

"Rhysie, I know I have been upgrading you with the generative processes but you still like the old photo manipulation ways but this, this is just hilarious! Are- oh my god all of them are like this?! How many edits have you made?"

At that moment, Rhys was very happy not to have a visible face, since he probably wouldn't be able to look at Jack for too long from the embarrassment he probably should feel.

"I... We have been going on these journeys together for a while now and I thought it would be...a nice thing. I have been browsing EchoNet and noticing that people like to take pictures like that. And I want to keep some memory of being on these trips with you."

The folder contained pictures of Jack, from different angles, mostly from the echo watch, and Rhys' body edited into such a level of precision, that it would be hard to tell they were edited at all.

"And the facial expressions..."

"I added them to the model, based on data I've gathered. It wasn't hard to edit the rig and get that to work."

"Wowie, Rhysie, but these..." Rhys let Jack gather his thoughts. "These need to be deleted."

"WHAT?"

"Yeah, nobody should know what you look like. Delete them, immediately."

"I...no! They are well encrypted, you have seen that! And without me, they can never open them. Nothing bad will happen, Jack. Nobody is going to try and steal me."

Jack was skimming through the pictures, seeing the model seem to look like it was holding the device to take the picture and ground himself more into the scene. Smiling, eating together, riding in cars and... just looking at a sunset together, backs facing the camera.

"I won't delete them, Jack. And I ask you not to delete them, either. I worked hard on these and I want to keep them. They will never go anywhere but just on the drive."

"Why would you want to keep a memory like that?"

Rhys felt it was a trap question with no good answer. Nothing he would have said would be able to exactly revert the process, but, he knew Jack wasn't exactly in patient moment for him to analyse each answer.

"I thought it would be nice to share these with you, to remind you I was there."

Rhys didn't expect Jack to leave the office without the echo watch. He rarely did that. If it was for the bathroom - even if he had one hidden in the office, or it was to cool down, it wasn't important.

If the pictures still stayed - they would stay there. And that was enough for Rhys.

Jack wanted him to develop a hobby and there it was.

Nothing bad could come out of it.

[captaincaptainjill]

Little Hunter - Nil x Reader

Summary: Silver moonlight bathed his tanned skin, highlighting scars, old and new. Cold colors were reflected in his gray eyes, revealing hidden thoughts that were usually concealed behind a stoic mask.  His image was divine. You yearned to run your fingers along his body and caress his soul. To worship him. To love him.

Warnings: smut, mention of blood, fingering, oral (reader receiving)

Word count: 4.5k+

AN: I caught another brainrot. Sadly there is not a lot of Nil x Reader content out there. I decided to crosspost this here and over on AO3

It can also be read as Nil x Aloy with a bit of canon divergence if you like.

Little Hunter

His hands were warm. Calloused fingertips gently caressed the exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt had been deliberately pushed up by him in search of more body contact, not that you mind. It was Nil after all. 

The two of you were currently snuggled up together on a blanket placed on a remote hilltop somewhere in the Sundom, hidden away from any prying eye. Both your armor and weapons set aside but still within reach. Above you was the clear sky filled with a thousand shining stars, the silent witnesses of the secret, nightly meeting. The crickets with their song kept you company as well. 

He had himself propped up against a smooth rock and you were seated between his legs, back resting against his firm chest. From this position you had an excellent view of the night sky. Strong arms wrapped around you and legs tangled he held you close. You could feel his steady heartbeat and breathing. Peaceful and comforting. 

One of your hands was on his knee and you were absentmindedly brushing your thumb in a circular pattern across his joint, which was exposed due to the cut of his pants. You noticed a small scar there to which your touch constantly returned. Just like you were magically drawn towards him. Despite his questionable morale and motives. 

Nil pressed a kiss to your temple. A loving gesture you cherished greatly. His short beard tickled on your skin and you grinned. Basking in his attention you felt your muscles and mind relaxing. A content sigh escaped your lips. It seemed paradoxical how you were at home in the embrace of an apex predator like Nil. But to you he was a good man. You knew him and accepted him. Just like he accepted you. 

Your thoughts wandered back to the first time you met the Carja warrior. A fateful day as you recalled. 

You were out on a bounty hunt. Some bandit leader had set up camp with his friends in the vicinity of a village and threatened the locals with raids and violence. Something you couldn't let happen. 

You had been successful with the stealthy approach. All bandits were slaughtered and the leader left at the tip of your spear for a final confrontation. That was when he appeared. The Carja with the red-feathered headpiece. He had watched your infiltration in awe, hidden away in the same shadows that had shrouded you before. Waiting for the right time to make a move. Given the delicate nature of the situation you weren't too happy about his interference. 

While he tried to trick you into leaving the bounty to him the bandit leader saw his chance to escape. But you were quicker. Bloodied spear now pointed at the newcomer. You glared at him as you took in his presence. The eye-catching red feathers, garments made of luxurious fabrics and equipped with white machine parts. He introduced himself as Nil. His gray eyes were stone cold and calculating. But you saw something beneath the ice. A bright flame of obsession with death bordering on madness. Sharp and dangerous like the tip of an arrow.

Expressing his admiration for your ability to kill he then retreated. Leaving the bounty to you. 

“We'll meet again, little hunter.” Those were his last words to you. And you hoped he was speaking the truth, because as brief as the interaction was, it left you shaking with excitement.

Weeks later the incident was still on your mind. You couldn't forget Nil. The mysterious and handsome stranger. He lived in your head and bothered you endlessly, especially during lonely nights, forcing you to take shameful action in order to relieve the boiling tension in your core.

You were fully aware that he had simply tested you back then. And you knew that your reaction impressed him. After all, you were not some two-bit mercenary. You were a skilled hunter driven by determination. And you wouldn't ever allow some fool to steal your price. Only that Nil wasn't a fool. Nil was an equally skilled killer. You learned more about him a bit later when you collected the bounty. And those stories you heard only made it harder not to think about him.

A stirring brought you back to reality. Nil had noticed your gaze drifting from the stars to the past. 

“What's on your mind, little hunter?” he asked in a low voice, accompanied by a hint of concern. For all his confidence in his skills he always seemed a little worried about you regretting choosing him as a partner. A vulnerable reaction that rooted deep within his complex history and was reserved for your presence only. You valued his authenticity. However, it pained you to see him worried. 

You turned your head to look at him. And as you guessed there was a slight veil of sadness over his gray eyes. 

“I was just remembering how we met. And that I couldn't get you out of my head ever since,” you said and smiled at him earnestly. “You left a lasting impression.”

He chuckled lightly. “Is that so?”

“Of course. You tried to steal my bounty. On one hand you blew me away with your audacity. And on the other you intrigued me. I had my fair share of fools trying to steal my kills. But you were the first who could have actually pulled it off.”

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. He himself held the memory of your first encounter dear because he fell in love there. But that was something he wouldn't openly admit, of course.

“Are you calling me a fool?”

“Perhaps?”

He showed his signature crooked grin, lips askew and canine bared. Then without warning he bowed forward to kiss you. Despite the suddenness of his approach and the awkward angle the kiss was tender. You practically melted against his sweet lips. As he retreated, far too soon for your taste, he smiled at your dumbfounded expression. 

“Who's the fool now?” Nil laughed. 

“I have always been a fool for you,” you admitted truthfully, eyes beaming up at him with love. 

You never grew tired of giving him the reassurance he needed, in any way you deemed fitting. Though he never explicitly asked for it. That wouldn't be like him. 

You knew about his hurtful past. And were fully aware of what he did during the wars he fought in, and afterwards. It was something he had been very open about with you. Also about his time at Sunstone Rock. You didn't care what he had done. But knowing it helped you to understand him better.

You turned around to kneel before him and he loosened his embrace, hands now resting on your thighs. Thumbs moving slightly to caress your legs. Every touch mirrored part of his profession. Preciseness, purpose and passion.

With the moon illuminating the scene you were able to see more of him than usual. Nil wasn't wearing his fancy red-feathered headpiece nor his vest. Although his armor never covered him up completely, it hid so much of him. Seeing him now partly undressed and somewhat bare for your eye felt incredibly intimate. A gorgeous sight meant to be savored. Because it never lasted too long. 

The short black hair you were so fond of was still tousled from earlier when you had swept both hands through the soft strands as you greeted him with a deep kiss. The untamed look suited him. Though it probably didn't harmonize with his otherwise stark nature. 

Your affectionate gaze wandered unhindered and soon you caught yourself staring at his chest. The nobel silver light bathed his tanned skin, highlighting scars, old and new. Cold colors were reflected in his gray eyes, revealing hidden thoughts that were usually concealed behind a stoic mask. 

His image was divine. You yearned to run your fingers along his body and caress his soul. To worship him. To love him. 

Drinking in the epiphany of his magnificence your heart ached. A dull tugging towards him. Undeniable affinity. 

“You are beautiful, Nil,” you whispered as if scared that someone unworthy might hear your tender prayer to this forbidden god. “I could get lost in the maze of your eyes forever. I could spend an eternity mapping out the constellations on your skin and it wouldn't be enough to honor them all with due diligence.”

He didn't respond. At least not verbally. His hands twitched ever so slightly, fingers noticeably pressing into the fabric of your pants and digging into the meat of your thighs. And there it was. The opaque glimmer in his eyes. Thirst. A call for blood. His demons were wide awake. And they were hungry. At this moment they were hungry for you. Selfishly you decided to meet them halfway. 

With the patience of a hunter, you slowly reached out so as not to startle him. You ran your hands up his arms, feeling the firm muscles, hardened by numerous battles. When you reached his neck, he lowered his head. Not out of shyness, but out of vulnerable abandon. Nil couldn't think of anyone he would ever surrender to except you. For mutual respect weighed heavily.

You cupped his face, urging him tenderly to look at you, admiring the cute freckles sprinkled across his nose. Carefully you caressed the Carja markings under his eye. The circles reminded you of mournful teardrops. You felt compassion even though it was completely inappropriate. Still your gaze softened. And you wondered if he ever shed any tears thinking of the home he left behind to pursue his calling. His path of deliberate violence and bloodshed primordially doomed his life to be spent in solitude. Condemned to walk the world in lonesomeness, only accompanied by his desire to kill, the whirring sound of the bowstring being released and perhaps a short-lived beneficial partnership for hunting purposes at most, but never anything so pure as love. And yet here you were. Two souls lost in a spiral of taking other people's lives. Two relentless hunters driven by individual causes. Unwaveringly united by a common understanding for one's reasons. 

An unfocussed thought grazed the edge of your mind. A fading vision of a possible future of how things might end. The only picture you could imagine was a blood-red, blazing sunset. However, that didn't scare you. If anything, you accepted it as fate, because it was only natural.

He noticed the slight change in your face. And perhaps he had read your mind. But Nil would never mistake you for prey. On the contrary, he saw you as an equal. Both of you were highly skilled with bow and spear. Focused, deadly precision. But deep down you suspected he also saw you as competition. That fact represented a dormant threat of which you were well aware, but you would not fight it. Because that would mean going against the laws of nature, and you wouldn't do that.

“I admire your strength, the way you hold your bow, how you never waver. In every fight we stand side by side I consider myself blessed.” Your voice was filled with honest adoration.

You could feel his smile against your hands. And you could see his demons smile through his eyes. Pride may be a sin but he wore it like a crooked crown draped on his head held high.

“I've never met anyone quite like you before. Our time together means everything to me. Be it in battle or in tranquility.” You took a deep breath. “I need you, Nil.”

Your confession of love dripped from your mouth like blood from a spear. Thick and truthful because blood never lies. And Nil carefully collected every drop before it could fall to the floor and seep into the sand, nurturing the flame burning in his soul. 

“Then you shall have me. I am here, little hunter. And I will not leave, for I too need you. As a wound needs an arrow, hungry for death,” he declared his consent.

Nil looked at you waiting curiously for your next move. Hands still on his face, you got up on your knees and bowed forwards. Your lips collided in an intense kiss driven by passion. The same fierceness demonstrated when hunting man or machine was undeniably present in the way you showed your love for each other.

Fingers of one hand tangled in his hair and the other placed on his upper arm you pecked the corner of his mouth. As you moved down his neck you felt the pulsing of his blood rushing through his carotid artery against your lips. The sensation clouded your mind for a moment. A rush of primal instinct and desire made you sink your teeth into the junktion between his neck and shoulder. Not hard enough to break the skin but with the right amount of pressure to leave a red mark.

Nil hissed, slightly startled, grabbing your hips by reflex.

“Easy, little hunter, or you'll get in trouble,” he warned in a dark tone and squeezed your flesh to emphasize the seriousness of his threat.

With an apologetic hum you licked and kissed the place you violated. Only to bite down again. His body jerked and you felt him twitch in his pants beneath you. Sheepishly you grinned against his neck, as he cursed.

Nose pressed behind his ear you inhaled his scent. Dark as an arrow shaft made from ridge-wood, heavy as burned metal and sweet as freshly drawn blood. Intoxicating. It enveloped you and your senses, made you irrepressibly greedy for him.

You kissed a path down his strong chest and didn't miss the chance to run your teeth over his tanned skin. You pawed him through his pants and he grew harder when you sucked on a sensitive nipple. His head fell backwards and he sighed, visibly enjoying your affectionate care.

He allowed you to move your lips down to the hem of his pants, but when you reached for the buckle keeping them in place, he stopped you with a gentle tugging on your shoulders. Naturally, he loved being spoiled by you. But tonight his demons were especially hungry and therefore impatient. He couldn't wait to devour you in order to satisfy them. Part of you wanted to defy him. To tease him until he snapped. However, that was not what neither of you two needed tonight. And so you yielded.

He removed your shirt, baring your chest to his gaze. The night was warm and yet you were shivering a little. Maybe his cold eyes were to blame, or maybe the demons lurking behind them. It didn't matter, considering what would come to you next.

Nil softly guided you backwards until you were sprawled out for him on the blanket. His eyes glimmered, admiring the exquisite meal he was about to indulge in. But still, he was a hunter following a strict moral code, and out of respect for you, it was more than appropriate to abide by the rules.

“Do you trust me, little hunter?”

A strange question, coming from him. Trust was rare to find in these lands nowadays. The wounds of the Red Raids had barely healed and new threats were constantly emerging from beneath the sand or behind deceptively genuine smiles. But you did. After everything, he never gave you any reason not to.

“Yes.” You nodded convinced.

“How much?”

“I'd let you burn me alive.”

“Do you want to proceed?”

“Yes!”

Another accepting nod from you and Nil smiled, pleased with your decision. And so you handed him the reins. 

You had danced with him before. Not only on the battlefields of various bandit camps. But also in secrecy. Well aware that your bond, carefully woven from blood and splintered bones, would never be accepted by the Carja. But that couldn't stop your feelings for him. Destiny has forged a connection between your fates. Stronger than traditions and social standards. 

Nil took his sweet time, momentarily repressing the powerful urging from his instincts to go down on you immediately. His sadistic tendencies wouldn't allow you a quick release. And he wanted to relish in his victory.

His hands explored your exposed torso, scorching your skin with more intensity than the Carja sun ever did. His fingers left burning paths in their wake, covering you in boiling heat.

Along the way he mapped out all the markings he could find. He would never consider them imperfections of your body for they told your moving story. A scar on your side from where the arrow of a bandit sharpshooter ripped into your flesh caught his attention. Nil remembered the day you got it. It was from the first bandit camp you slaughtered together as a team. How you wailed in pain as blood seeped through your clothes. He also remembered how you patched yourself up afterwards. And how he almost tore the stitches open again as he vigorously pounded into you, forcing you to cry out a second time that day.

He paused to grope at your chest, twisting the hardening buds between two fingers. You moaned and your hips bucked upwards. He clicked his tongue at your impatience. On the battlefield he would never torture his opponent, but here and now other rules applied.

Nil brought his mouth to your shoulder. Maybe you should have stopped him, maybe you didn't want to, but you knew his intention. Without hesitation his sharp teeth breached your delicate skin, cruelly repaying you for marking him. You cried out in pain, while a potent spark shot down into your core, fuelling the desire. He groaned at the coppery taste of your tender blood, hard erection pushing against your stomach. It sickened you to see both of your reactions.

His tongue quickly lapped up the bit of red pooling out of the bitemark. He whispered a small apology against the wound and sealed it with a soft kiss.

“You're mine, little hunter.” Nil reminded you. “Do not forget that.” A testimony highlighting the dominant side of his nature.

“I would never!”

Finally he pulled down your pants and gained unrestricted access to what he desired most.

“All of this for me?” he commented as he saw your prominent arousal.

Nil didn't waste another second, he spread your legs to make room for his body and leaned down.

The moment his lips touched you, you gasped. He groaned at the wetness of your sex. This was his doing and knowing he had such a strong effect on you made him proud.

He flicked his tongue out to collect your essence. Like an epicurean, he sampled your flavor and declared your nectar divine. Since the first time your taste had become his favorite and he constantly craved it, almost as much as he craved the killing.

He put his mouth back on you and began to devour you. He licked, sucked and kissed your sensitive area, eliciting the sweetest sounds from your throat. His short beard tickled and his finger dug into your thighs, spreading them even further. Instinctively you grabbed his hair, urging him to continue with his heavenly work on your dripping arousal. You tugged harshly and he groaned against you, the pleasant vibration rumbled through your core.

“Nil, please,” you moaned, “don't stop.”

He took this as encouragement. One hand stayed on your leg and the other found its path to your entrance. He teasingly circled your needy and neglected hole. His twisted nature seeped through the cracks of his shell as he pushed the digit in. Agonizingly slow he worked his way in. You clenched around the intrusion, hoping he would do more soon, knowing you craved more, needed more.

But again he took his time. Knuckle-deep inside you he stilled all of his movements. Lips hovering above your sex, his breath fanned over your need, causing you to shiver.

“Please, please. please,” you cried out in frustration. How could he deny you what you needed most? It appeared as if he had all his sadism reserved for poor little you.

“Perhaps you need a lesson in patience?” he mused mockingly.

The coldhearted grin he shot you from down between your legs twisted your gut around.

“Nil, I beg you.”

You felt no shame in pleading, but you weren't sure you would be able to appeal to his leniency.

The hand still resting in his hair tried to tug him towards your heated middle, but he didn't budge. He withstood like a behemoth being pushed by a watcher. Unimpressed and mildly annoyed.

“Have I wronged you somehow? Why do you need to torture me?” You grew more desperate with every passing second.

Nil shrugged. It was hard to buy his indifference.

“Allow me this sublime moment and I promise you won't regret it. Beg, little hunter.”

You cursed rudely. Also because he slightly curled his finger inside you, underlining his deal. In his eyes it was a fair offer. What a mockery.

“Nil, please, I beg you. I need you like my arrows need a target. Please fuck me,” you whinered pathetically.

Surprisingly, he took pity on you rather quickly. But that was probably due to the increasingly strong tension in his loins. Not even Nil had this much self-control.

He began to pump his finger inside you and gradually increased the speed, while his mouth also returned to your weeping arousal. A string of curses left you. Sparks of electricity spread along your spine, igniting a wildfire destined to dissolve you.

He added a second finger. They curled into that sweet spot and you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. Waves of heat rushed through you, smoldering in your veins.

The wet sounds of his mouth on you were obscene. Combined with your pathetic moans, the soundscape was on par with a brothel like the ones found in the dark and seedy back alleys of Meridian.

Nil added another digit to spread you open for him. You welcomed the sharp stinging and your hips bucked like a raging strider. Greedily you accepted what he gave you. With every touch he stained you further, spilling his corruption into your system like HADES corrupted this world's machines. His deft fingers worked expertly to bring you pleasure.

“Nil!” His name repeatedly fell from your lips like a prayer. Music to his ears.

Much to your own surprise you used your grip in his black hair to pry his face from your middle.

“I need you inside, please. Take pleasure from me too.”

He didn't need to be told twice. How he had not yet gone insane without touching himself was beyond you. His pants were the last piece of clothing added to the pile next to the blanket. He sighed as his hard cock was freed from the constricting fabric. And after all this preparation Nil finally entered you.

It could be compared to being run over by a trampler. A strong push accompanied by a burning and painful sensation, forcing the air out of your lungs. You clawed at his back in dire search for anything to hold onto as he split you in two. He soothingly kissed your crown, whispering sweet praises, while he waited for you to adjust to his size. Soon the pain turned into pleasure and your breathing steadied.

His gray eyes searched for yours, seeking permission. You gave him a small nod, only then he began to move. Nil started out slow, with long, drawn-out thrusts. Relishing in the tightness and warmth of your welcoming cavern.

When he established a steady rhythm, you moved your hips to meet his. Stirring him to speed up. He drove into you with vigor, hitting the same spot that had you scream his name, again and again, with his signature precision. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and his breathing became labored. His deep grunts mingled with your moans. Skin slapped against skin. Shamefully primal.

Nil reached between your bodies and began to stroke you. Calloused fingers playing you like an instrument. A tingling sensation slithered down your shaking legs. Toes curling upwards.

It didn't take long for the pressure to reach its peak. An intense, hot white pleasure exploded behind your eyes and the bowstring in your core snapped. An arrow pierced through your heart, unleashing an avalanche. Tingling waves of searing fire poured over you. And you cried out as it drowned you.

He dutifully steered you through your orgasm, drawing out your high until it tilted from joyful to harsh. But he kept going. It became almost unbearable, fire and ice colliding, your body shook and withered beneath him.

Overstimulated you wanted to push him away. However, your desire to protest died when his gray eyes met yours. The maniacal look resembled the one he had when killing. It bared so much familiarity. And maybe because of that you chose to endure.

You should have known he wouldn't show mercy. Not tonight. Not after freeing his demons. There was nothing left for you but surrender to the feeling. You were tainted before but he made sure to spoil you for anyone who might come after him. Ruined you so no one else would ever be enough for you. No one but him.

With one final thrust and a guttural moan he stilled. Nil spent his hot seed inside you, painting your walls bone white. It was almost enough to send you over the edge again.

He caressed your face in delicate devotion. His tenderness felt a little foreign now, just after he had been rough and merciless before.

“You were so good for me,” he praised, while trying to catch his breath. “Thank you, little hunter.”

Your heart still pounded furiously. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears, the echo of the intense high, left you speechless. However, there was no need for more words now.

He pulled out and you hissed at the loss. He took a moment to admire the mess he made of you, seeing his cum dripping from your entrance onto the blanket.

Exhausted Nil laid down next to you. He held his arms open and you followed his invitation to curl up with him. He hugged you tight. You savored your lover's embrace and sighed content.

Above you the stars twinkled in the dark night sky. Heat rose to your cheeks as you realized that the moon had witnessed this forbidden and filthy union. But the silvery light still surrounded you both without judgment. It helped to ease your mind.

Weariness tugged at your consciousness and gently guided you away from the scene. You allowed it to happen and yawned heartily. Only half awake you nestled deeper into his arms, drawn in by his warmth and steady heartbeat.

Nil had his gaze fixed on the glittering firmament, hands lazily drawing patterns on your still heated skin. He and his demons were sated, at least for the moment.

“I love you too, little hunter,” he whispered, careful not to wake you up again. “You will be the death of me. But by the sun, it will be a glorious one.”

[mango-unit]

post number five

holy shit the zelda timeline is a mess.

ok so you got ocarina of time, right? ganondorf plots and schemes to break into the sacred realm, claiming the triforce and becoming the demon king ganon, before a hero rises up to claim the master sword and defeat him. he is thusly sealed away forever.

then he goes back in time and warns the royal fsmily before that ever happens, leading to ganondorfs execution. this causes a paradox, which creates a branch in the timeline: the ganon-is-sealed timeline, and the ganondorf-is-executed timeline.

wind waker takes place after ganon is sealed. once ganon inevitably returns (a la alttp), there is no hero to save them (because link went to the past) and they turn to the gods for help. this adds up neatly.

twilight princess takes place after ganondorf is executed. the royal family botches the execution, and he is sealed into the twilight realm, where his flesh literally re-manifests from the simmering rage and resentment the twili feel for those who live in the light realm. this adds up neatly.

ok, so far were doing pretty good. we have a clearly defined timeline branch after oot, which leads into majoras mask and then twilight princess very neatly, or wind waker and then phantom hourglass to spirit tracks very neatly, depending on which conclusion you go from. then put skyward sword, which is very clearly first, right at the beginning. this is a really solid chronology, right?

yeah. but what about, like… ALL OF THE 2D GAMES.

a link to the past, oracle of ages, oracle of seasons, links awakening, a link between worlds, triforce heroes, the minish cap, four swords, four swords adventures, the legend of zelda, and the adventure of link…

you can make a solid case for a handful of these on the current timeline i just outlined. but how are you supposed to make alttp work, and by extension oox, la, tloz, and taol?

in ocarina of time, the sacred realm is locked behind the master sword, which is locked behind the door of time, which is locked behind the spiritual stones, which are locked behind the different leaders of the various races of hyrule. they very clearly took a lot of precautions to make sure nobody would get into the sacred realm. they were very clearly worried about that threat.

as such, ganondorf needed to do some significant plotting in order to make his way into the sacred realm. the key to his plans was link, the descendant of hylias chosen hero, who is featured in skyward sword. only link would be able to draw the master sword, so even if ganondorf gathered the spiritual stones he wouldnt be able to enter the sacred realm. this is why he scares link into claiming the master sword by casting various curses on the people of hyrule using regular old dark magic.

this is the accepted tale for the sealing war.

now look at the sealing war in a link to the past…

ganondorf and his band of thieves come across the sacred realm completely by accident. zero scheming involved. absolutely no clever displays of his villainous cunning.

as they approach the sacred realm, the eyes of ganondorf and his bandit allies change colors, and they begin to attack eachother in a bloody, violent brawl. the only one left alive is ganondorf, who had killed his closest allies with his own hands. it is then that ganondorf claims the triforce with blood-soaked hands, becoming the demon king, ganon.

his rage flows across hyrule. the people suffer. they pray for a hero to come and save them - none does. the sages hole up in hyrule castle, placing a seal over the sacred realm - one that presumably did not previously exist - and locking ganon inside. the knights of hyrule laid down their lives to protect the sages; almost every last one of them fell in combat. the link in alttp is the descendent of those few courageous souls who lived.

does this sound, at all, like ocarina of time?

like…

in any shape, way, or form.

outside of the key connection of ganondorf entering the sacred realm, becoming ganon, attacking hyrule, and then being sealed in the sacred realm, it sounds like a completely different story. but its the same event, because its… you know… the creation of ganon.

in alttp, none of the precautions we see in oot were taken. ganondorf quite literally waltzes into the sacred realm and then kills all of his closest friends. and in alttp, there was no link present to save them, which is why the knights of hyrule almost completely died out protecting the sages. meanwhile, in oot, link is the essential key component of ganondorfs carefully laid out plan.

how does nintendo resolve this?

“uhhhh…. what if…….. what if link died? like, after claiming the master sword. after cementing himself as a hero by personally awakening the sages and solving everyones problems. what if he just died at the end of the game, and was completely forgotten by history for some reason we dont provide?”

i feel better already.

link dying would not branch the timeline. the other branch, which makes logical sense and has no contradictions, is done through time travel, not hypothetical what-if scenarios. therefore, it only makes sense that link dying is not any sort of canon conclusion that would branch the timeline.

so for now lets place alttp in the ether. it has an event thats equivalent to ocarina of time, but no precautions were taken for the sacred realm, and no link was present to defeat ganon.

after alttp, the triforce sends link to another kingdom which needs his help. twice. it turns out this was to prevent the revival of ganon, who he killed in alttp. however, he ultimately fails to prevent his revival - so instead he just kicks ganons undead ass. this details the events of the oracles games.

after this happens, he starts sailing home, but a nasty storm catches him and he crash lands on kohilint. im not spoiling this game because its fantastic, but lets just say for now that link goes through an ultimatum type experience that makes him rethink the virtue of this whole adventuring thing before finally sailing home. this details the events of links awakening.

i assume he settled down at this point. his descendent stops a plot by the royal family of an inverted kingdom to steal their triforce. this details the events of a link between worlds. (also. gramps is 100% the link from alttp. resigned from adventure, he instead helps train the new hero in an edu-taining way.)

then, the new link heads out to new kingdoms, much like his predecessor did. he winds up in hytopia, where he is enlisted as one of three heroes to break a curse on their princess. this details the events of triforce heroes.

hundreds of years pass. somehow, ganon returned. the zelda of this time breaks apart the triforce of wisdom and sends out impa to find a hero capable of collecting the pieces and using their power to defeat ganon, who wields the triforce of power. (the triforce of courage is locked away in a land distant to the kingdom, north of hyrule. it looks like the royal family got wise and decided to finally take some precautions to prevent somebody from easily claiming the full triforce.) this details the events of the legend of zelda.

the hylians move north. around 7 years later, greater hyrule is established. link notices a triangular mark on his hand and seeks the wisdom of impa, who recognizes it as the triforce of courage. she brings him to an ancient temple long lost to time and pulls out a manuscript written in unfamiliar symbols; the language was forgotten by history. because link bears the triforce, however, he can read it. it tells him where the triforce of courage is held, and it tells the legend of the first generation zelda, who was cursed into a timeless sleep (leading her guilt-ridden brother to decree all future daughters of the royal family would be named zelda). link sets out to find the triforce of courage and break the curse on zelda the first. this details the events of the adventure of link.

pretty straightforward, clear-cut story. except for the fact that i really dont think skyward swords zelda was cursed in an eternal sleep, neither do i think she had a brother.

it could have been a descendent of the true zelds the first, though. hyrule as a kingdom wasnt really established yet in skyward sword. maybe sonais daughter?

anyways, this story in a vacuum is pretty consistent. but, due to the problems with alttp, it doesnt really fit with the greater timeline. so the longest running story of sequels in the legend of zelda (excluding zelda 1 and 2) just doesnt have a satisfying placement. theres gotta be some other branch, right? some time before the events of ocarina of time, so that the imprisoning wars can truly be parallel events…

depending on your timeline theory, that leaves only minish cap and skyward sword. minish cap doesnt deal with time travel… which leaves skyward sword.

theres one moment in skyward sword that fits the bill pretty well. people refer to this moment as the skyward split. some believe it, some are skeptical, some arent even aware of it. i will propose my theory on the exact nature of the skyward split and let you decide.

in skyward sword, link wishes upon the triforce for the complete destruction of the imprisoned (demise). the mother goddess island detaches from skyloft and falls onto the sealed grounds, perfectly slotting in and just straight of killing that dude permanently. skyloft itself remains in the sky; there is no plateau where the mother goddess island fell, and in fact, its actually kind of set into the ground because of how perfectly it slotted into the spiral shape of the sealed grounds.

sorry. i like matpat as much as the next guy, but skyloft is definitively not the great plateau.

seeing this, ghirahim travels into the past and frees demise fully before his eventual death. he was transformed, in the ancient past, from the imprisoned back into his full humanoid demonic flame-headed self. link follows ghirahim and does battle with demise, defeating him and locking his soul in the master sword, where his very essence would decay into nothing in the presence of the holy light. basically demises fundamental soul was horribly crippled into the tiniest imaginable hateful little fragment of what it once was. and it was only getting tinier. exponentially weaker. no hope of escape until his soul is so worn thin it tears at the seams and he simply ceases to be. thats the idea, anyways.

this marks two fundamentally different, conclusively final endings for demise/the imprisoned. one where he was killed by the triforce as the imprisoned in the present, and one where he was trapped in the master sword only to be eternally decayed at an exponential rate. ironically, the imprisoned met his demise, while demise was imprisoned. but yeah, inevitably demise too will meet his demise.

after getting his ass handed to him, demise recites - or describes, depending on who you ask - a curse. it declares the endless cycle of incarnations of the hatred of the demon clan, who demise ruled. then he gets sealed in the sword and shuts up. its at this point that link and zelda leave the blade under the care of impa and return to the future. the future remains unchanged, however. the imprisoned was still crushed by the mother goddess statue island. so link and zelda returned to their original timeline.

some would say this implies a causal loop. that demise escaped the master sword, then impa sealed him in the sealed grounds, turning him back into the imprisoned for the events of skyward sword. however, demise would have been WAY too weak to ever escape the master sword - im talking barely conscious, let alone functionally powerful enough to overpower a blade containing the power of all three golden goddesses (the sacred flames that temper the goddess blade into the master sword). demise did not escape. therefore, timeline branch.

in one timeline, link and zelda are made aware of the curse that demise spoke of. in the other… well, theyre the only ones that demise spoke to, and that version of them doesnt exist in that timeline, so its safe to say nobodys aware of the curse.

in the timeline where they are aware of the curse, they take precautions. they lock the sacred realm behind the master sword, which they lock behind the door of time, which they lock behind the spiritual stones, which they lock behind the leaders of the various races of hyrule. thus, ganondorf must plot. he must allow link to claim the master sword.

in the timeline where they arent aware of the curse, they dont worry about the sacred realm all that much. they arent even sure where it is, and its not like theres an endless cycle of demonic hate hell bent on destroying everything the gods created or anything. nobody knows where the sacred realm is anyways, so they dont worry about those precautions. thus, ganondorf comes across the sacred realm completely by accident. as for why theres no link…

uh…. what if……… what if link died?

or what if link is just a nameless knight of hyrule, who was not made a legendary hero by saving zelda the first, forging the master sword, or defeating demise?

honestly i dont know why no link was present. whatever answer you like i guess. this timeline is such a mess theres no way to account for every single lore detail

[thecomfywriter]

OC quote tag

okay, i got this one from @urnumber1star. if i'm interpreting this one correctly, it's using quotes from your oc to show the general vibe of them?

BET.

i'll do my main character from tov (Alan) since this man sure does have a bunch of goofy quotes.

--

"My voice had cracked, and I wanted to die."

“My seniors nearly branded a man with a knife! Apologies for my volume but, that-! That is not even how you do it!"

"Suffering was her last shred of humanity"

[this is Caramel speaking:] "But now we have our issues, don't we? You've seen a bit too much." [Alan:] "I can unsee it?"

"Most fondly was the long-haired grass that brushed against our thighs, though not really, because none of this was real, and I could not feel a thing.”

"There were occasional landmarks Morreial decided to take me: the high mountains of the Himalayas, whereupon my poor pace climbing up those rocky beds, he scoffed jibing words and offered to carry me on his back like a child. I should note, I did not take up his offer (I do not have pride, but I am not so undignified either) , but instead panted my way as much as I could before his impatience grew and he teleported us to the peaks of the Non-Mage’s highest mountain."

“Absolutely horrendous. Awful. I am the epitome of an incompetent man in that field of training.”

“Distressing? Hilbert! Qu’quoi hates you! Everyone in Soilaila does. You cannot be starting fights with the Redheaded Bandit of all people, in the middle of the street with magic during a magic ban!”

“Can a man not stretch after breaking his back so— mhmm— violently? Maadh, Morreial. Did you even try to help me?"

"NO! I will bring them here. Do not tell them about the dreams. None of them."

"As much as I wish you did not know, I cannot help it that you do. My mind is essentially yours now."

"Everything hurts, Cara. My body, my head, my mind…. everything always hurts. My training, my schoolings, my lack of sleep…. I cannot take it any longer. But I cannot stop. There is a momentum that is driving me, accelerating me towards a force I cannot deny. Every time I perform magic, I feel more alive, and yet all the more insane. The more I suppress it, the stronger I crave meat. The more I wrap them, the longer my wounds bleed. Everything bruises me, as though my body were made of silk and frost. I cannot control how weakened my physicality has become, and yet I have never felt the more stronger. What cruel paradox is this?”

“I know it is nothing compared to the pain you have experienced, and I truly cannot fathom the loneliness of not having a Family to share a community with. But do not ever dare to say you do not have a family, Caramel. Because you are my family just as much as you are Cara’s and Morreial’s. When I imagine my future, I see you in it. This is not some friendship  where I learn from you and that is the end of it. I meant it when I said I trust you, wholeheartedly and unconditionally. And I am here for you, even if I am awful company.”

"Damn the CVM. You need me more."

"I have no such intentions of denying you, Caramel. Not now, not ever."

EXCEPT 15 ISN'T ENOUGH SO I'M ADDING AN EXTRA 10 LMAO SUE ME 😤

16. "She did not kill my mother. Not alone. If anyone is responsible for my Valeen's death, it is you. Because you chose Von Doro over her every single time for years. You killed her spirit before Von Doro even had the chance to kill her body. Shame on you."

17. “Go away, Caramel. I trusted you wholeheartedly. All I asked for was a couple of days and some support. All I asked for was for you to trust me back. And you could not even do that much. You wanted me to abandon the man who took me in without hesitation when he himself lived in poverty because… what? What reason have you ever given me? What was the justification behind your baseless anger? You have never given me any response, anything! And I respected that! But do you truly respect me so little that you could not extend the same courtesy onto me?”

18. "Do you want to fight me? Do you think you will be able to win? Do you think you will be able to stop me? Me?"

19. "I was long gone before any of you had the chance to save me."

20. "No... Do not say that. I respect you more than the moon shines, Caramel."

21. "I will do it for you. I will burden all your sins. Be your gemba-bor. I will kill him for you. His blood does not have to be your unbecoming."

22. "Darkness is your domain. It will never be mine."

23. "And you... I will have fun making you my first victim."

24. "I want to draw out her suffering. To memorize the shade of her blood in every lighting."

25. "I suppose I will see you in hell then."

OKAY. i will stop here before i go overboard, but as you can tell... my boy has a downfall 😞 RIP middle-book Alan. I will always miss you.

once again! open tag! have fun!

[live-at-fortune-city]

happy everything is on fire party i remembered i draw

[incorrect-no-more-heroes-quotes]

[quajzen]

I think I get one of the roles dice play in OSR games, that I didn't get before.

I used to think dice were for randomly deciding between things a human couldn't fictionally determine, or it would be wrong for one to do so: e.g. does an attack hit in combat? Hard to say in the fiction if all that is said is "I swing my sword" and not super fair for any one person (GM or player) to simply declare. I though this philosophy was also valid for random encounters, reaction rolls, open door checks... but I think there's something else dice can do.

I re-read this blog post, this one too, and watched this Bandit's Keep video. The first discusses "the oracular power of dice," the central point being that dice are "game oracles," giving glimpses of the abstract question. The second looks at random encounters and suggests you take an OD&D wilderness encounter roll, and turn it into an interesting situation on the fly, using the usual rolls (reaction, distance, surprise, etc.) as prompts for forming this. The last discusses what "getting lost" in a hexcrawl means: is it realistic? How do we fictionally justify this?

I think all of these point to the same idea: dice provide abstracted (in the game sense) answers to exploration questions, though not a full answer. The structure of rolls, the questions they answer, fill in blanks the GM might have about, say, an encounter, in a way that promotes creativity (by making compromises of apparent roll result paradoxes).

The natural conclusion of dice being oracles then, is that the GM is an interpreter, one who must make sense of the seeming paradoxes and deliver the news to a wider table. This will involve some improvisation, creativity, and a feel for the world and its inhabitants. It also sounds very fun. I can brainstorm a couple of reasons why a group of bandits might be friendly towards the party (did they mistake them for comrades? Are they on the lamb and looking for genuine help, or to exploit?).

GM-procedural dice rolls are then worldbuilding prompts, ready to be riffed on at the table.

I read once in a Marc Miller interview (creator of Traveller), that early on when making games, he didn't want someone else to do the imagining for him. I like this idea. Give me some leads, and I will make do with however many bandits, at any distance, with any sort of attitude.

[sincerely-sofie]

Well if you thought the other comment was gold… how about adding some priceless gems, expensive luxuries and a tad bit of insanity and angst to the amazing story recipe that you have given us again to turn it into a true treasure… potentially.

—-

On the part of Palkia helping, I could see the first times not helping. After all it was their fault in not taking care of the time gears, they handle going a bit crazy a few more times…

Then Palkia notices(or told by Giratina) that Time, Space and Matter is getting damaged at a fundamental level by the other legendaries game with the Hero but as later said in this part… not to worry.

Things more physical things like paradox pokemon and ultra beasts showing up randomly in dungeons(time), items or teams that shouldn’t physically exist in this plane like pokeballs or the Disloyal Three Bandit Team start showing up(space) and mystery dungeons randomly appear and disappear without a single trace(matter).

Then the thing that’s more important to Palkia, Dialga is starting to show physical and psychological pains. Trauma over the resets, small orange glowing scars from every time they go primal, a paranoia of not knowing exactly where the timegears are, etc.

And every time Palkia says anything, no matter what… they are always met with a “We’ll fix it next time”, “Oh the Tapu’s and Regi’s are handling it. No need to worry.” or “Stop being such a spoil sport and just have fun.”

They try to for a time… but they keep on looking to the future and see it’s slowly getting darker and slowing down, Arceus is going to accidentally cause Darkari’s old version of the world to come true. And their sibling no more than a shell of what they were like the true dragon of Unova.

Now Palkia and Giratina are on a timer like the Hero made for themselves, one that may end in a lot more trouble than Darkari’s version… permanently.

—-

For the onion fairy… I could see them being an ally to Grovyle for a time after the first reset and still remembering everything(they are a legendary of time after all), but after a while they think Arceus has it under control and becomes sort of a… entity of chaos AND the one who makes sure the story still flows.

They would be an opposite to the Hero; They want it all to end as quickly as possible and not having to endure another reset. But Celibi; they have lived countless lifetimes as a legendary and traveled through timelines, and if Arceus is making sure that the world won’t permanently end in times paralysis… what’s a few more go arounds.

—-

And as for a certain emo nightmare specter that started it all, after they get punished they go back to their duties but the legendaries realize a story isn’t complete without a villain.

They are stripped of most of their power, enough to put up a fight for the hero but not enough to cause a future issue.

At the start of they were as cocky and bitter as you could imagine but as time wore on and resets added up. They realized it was just a prison cell where they are viewed like a game more than a living world anymore.

By a certain point Darkari’s offer would turn into potential avenues of escape for them. Constantly scheming and plotting on how to escape the Dugtrio Day situation and actually help out the Hero and Partner out of this situation.

—-

But that’s a pseudo part 2 to this concept of a amazing concept, but anywho the void is calling again sooooo… toodooloo

(Referencing this chain of posts)

Everybody go home, @voidtravler just blew every idea I could ever have out of the water + bested me in storytelling combat, therefore winning the rights to the AU— and I, for one, welcome our new narrative overlord.

[zhongluong]

what are your OCs

I had someone ask me this just a few weeks ago! I totally didn't forget my ask button says that

So, all of them are TES related, this time I'm gonna give a quick rundown of each and pick one to go into more detail with. Not Neean, he got that last time.

Going chronologically:

Inge the Oathkeeper - they/them Nord Vestige, general in the Three Banners War. Ancestor of Ylva Oathkeeper.

Morgan Lelles - he/him Breton Vestige and lightning sorcerer. Member of the Mage's Guild. Works with Inge and Tarim (belonging to @tiredbosmer ) to end the Planemeld.

Skip forward two eras.

Vanikar - he/him Dunmer. High-end courtesan in Riften, occasionally sells information to the Thieves Guild, but nothing his clients tell him. Customer Confidentiality and all that.

Neean Andrones - he/him/??? Argonian alchemist, born in Riften. Time traveler and paradoxical origin of much of his own knowledge and also his Hist.

Ylva Oathkeeper - she/her Nord Last Dragonborn, Harbinger of the Companions, and werewolf. Works with Tarim (the first one's grandson, also tiredbosmer's) to end the Dragon Crisis. Spends less than a year as High Queen and hands it back to Elisif.

Technically pertinent to the latest group, but actually much older:

Iizkaaljoor - Ice-Champion-Mortal, read as Campion of the Ice Mortals. Lightning aligned dovah, lives in Lake Ilinalta. Helps Ylva and Tarim 2 during and after the Dragon Crisis. Noticably smaller than other dragons, amphibious.

Bahdobrahm - Wrath-Of-North, read just like that. Ice aligned dovah, huge. I think I'm gonna infodump about him today, tiredbosmer is the only other one who knows about him yet.

So, when I say huge, I mean this guy is massive. We decided that dragons in TES are actually different sizes, with Alduin and Odahviing being the biggest. The idea is that the 'first' ones are bigger, especially the first of a particular kind. Bahdobrahm is big enough to easily rival Odahviing, a good visual is the Legends card for him. However, Bahdobrahm looks bigger because he's a Frost dovah, and has this mane of spines going from his horns to partway down his tail.

He also, way back in the beginning of people settling Skyrim, was the one to allow safe passage for the other dragons to cross the Sea of Ghosts. He already lived in the northeast peninsula of Skyrim, hunting among the ice floes for wolf-whales (orcas). So, basically, Alduin had to ask him to come through. Imagine being a literal demigod and needing to ask permission from this less powerful sibling to cross the hallway to your new room.

Then when the Dragon Cult lost power, he refused to join either side. He doesn't exactly like other dragons, and mortals are usually more of a nuisance than anything. Despite not being against the humans, he did end up getting killed by them.

Fast forward to the Dragon Crisis, and Alduin resurrects him, hoping maybe now he'll be on the dragon side of this war. He was wrong, Bahdobrahm told him to fuck off and went back to minding his own business on his mountain and hunting whales.

Inge accidentally finds his roost chasing down a bandit, and they manage to immediately get on his good side. They keep coming back to talk with him, and they make friends. He proceeds to catch a narwhal and flies halfway across Skyrim to deliver it to Oathkeeper Hall.

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 23: On Cloud Nine

“…And that’s just how it’s been,” said Purple Link, flying on one of his own Lanners, a purple-winged beauty, natch, “My life has been an endless series of bad luck cases. I was working out in the fields of Central Thanalan before Thancred found me.

"I don’t really need to tell you what happened after that.”

“Duly noted,” said Alisaie, agreeing, riding atop her own Yol, “However, Purple, you must understand, I wasn’t there for most of it.

"I re-joined the party in Ishgard, only really seriously considering joining permanently after the debacle that was the Crystal Braves.”

Purple Link grimaced. He remembered the efforts that Alphinaud took to make a unified front against the Garleans, what was to be now called the “Grand Company of Eorzea.”

…There was to be another name, he remembered, but it was shot down quickly.

In any case, the matter of Alisaie’s joining of the Scions was moot point, now that they were pretty much each other’s moral anchor.

In the figurative sense, not in the soul sense.

“I suppose that’s true,” said Purple Link, “I mean, long story short, we went after Gaius in the Praetorium, he went on about some such other, things like who I fought for, or why men like Louisoix would grovel at the feet of the gods.

“Understandably, I was very glib,” he added, as if all the memories rushed back to him over and over, in a never-ending repetition of yelling and golden gunblades.

“Who wouldn’t be,” said Alisaie, “Not that Gaius thinks that now, but he’s had his own perspective shifted about Grandfather’s actions. I think now he would be paradoxically impressed by him.”

“Yeah,” said Purple Link, sadly, “But it took him losing nearly all his family to change his mind.”

The Wolf Burglar, who had been flying very neatly alongside his huge but otherwise very normal falcon Montaro, had been listening to only about half this stuff.

“This really doesn’t concern me at all about any of it, does it?” said the Wolf Burglar, “I mean, I understand basically nothing.”

“Let’s just say,” said Purple Link, “The definition for ‘apocalypse’ didn’t have a plural until I came along.”

“That’s not strictly true, is it?” queried Alisiae, “After all, this is the Seventh Umbral Calamity.

"Unless Hydaelyn is swarming about the planet’s surface activating Warriors of Light all over the place, I don’t think we could depend on anyone but you to face the dangers we ask of you.

“However, I don’t think that excludes the number of people who have been Warriors of Light in the past, to face those previous calamities,” said Alisie, “Nor does it explain the very large wall in remembrance of the Rising, in Ul’dah’s corner of their streets.

"Obviously, there had to have been others.”

“Well, I’m just glad to help,” said Purple Link, “Whatever the case may be. Speaking of which, do you know where we should look next?”

“Well, this is Yanxia,” said the Wolf Burglar, as they swooped over the great red wall that separated the ruins of Doma from Namai, “I’m pretty sure we covered this whole coastline, sans the Glittering Basin.

"All the same, it wouldn’t hurt to do one more go through.”

“Agreed,” said Purple Link, and they separated to cover more ground.

It was now two days before the ceremony, Alphinaud was still a prisoner of the bandits, and they were no closer to finding the location of the ceremony. All previous requests to hold the ceremony anew elsewhere were quickly shot down.

“I want this to go as perfectly as possible,” said Lord Hien, after debriefing with him swiftly, “The best show of diplomacy with our Lupin allies is to be as accurate as possible.”

“The Lupin appreciate a show of force,” said Hakuro, “But we equally appreciate a solemn gesture. Such is the way of the Alpha.”

The mention of tradition forced their hand, and with Lord Hien insistent on it, they had no choice but to look for the location on their own.

Starting over in the southeastern portion of Yanxia, which connected to the Ruby Sea, they covered all the familiar haunts, stretching from the Glittering Basin itself to the ends of Prism Lake.

From their vantage point, Purple noticed the Lupin in the Glittering Basin were fighting against the Tenaga, big hulking tree-like creatures that wrapped around a crystal host.

He only merely cast a glance, but he thought he could see an oddly shaped white-furred Lupin teaching the bandits how to do a trick.

His attention was laid elsewhere, as he flew over a rather beautiful and isolated spot he’d visited many times before. It was one of his favorite secret spots, a plum spring with large blossoming leaves, a pink so vibrant, they could even be seen in the dark.

While this helped him clear his mind, he deemed the place a bit too perfect for such a ceremony. It didn’t attract visitors the way that even, level ground could provide.

“Hey Purple?” said a voice suddenly, in his ear. Purple Link tapped the linkpearl twice to answer the call.

“I can hear you,” said Purple, “How’s it going, Alisaie?”

“So, I just covered Namai, and I know you’ve got the Glittering Basin covered,” said Alisaie, “But I’ve been told stories about our friend, and I wanted to run them by you, first.

"Could I ask you to come to Namai?”

"“On my way,” said Purple Link, and he hopped back onto his purple-winged lanner and shot off into the sky.

Meanwhile, the Wolf Burglar was having a hell of a time. Having just survived yet another excursion with the automata that roamed Doma’s razed streets, he floated above Prism Lake, thinking the Lupin would have to be mad to travel so high up, and so far past the line of Rijin rule, if they wanted to have a celebration on such uneven ground.

Especially if it was the Lupin he was thinking of. They would have rather been caught dead than willingly travel through Doma’s boundaries, even if it was merely a matter of principle up to this point.

He was still thinking about Purple Link, and their time in Rhalgr’s Reach. Having left the sunny spot to the Ala Mhigans, they blipped back to Yanxia, to try another hand at searching places it might not have occurred to him to look.

He was thinking about his parents again.

He hated to do so, it brought to him some uncomfortable memories, about living under Garlean rule, about having to live off the streets.

Traveling to Kugane felt a little familiar to him, and he realized it might have been because he wasn’t the first person to do such a thing.

He’s berated the Warrior of Light long enough on his status as a superhero, he didn’t exactly have time to question who he was as a person.

He didn’t realize the Warrior of Light would have all the answers.

Not that his pre-teen years didn’t go by as a blur, of course it did, especially before he turned ten. But he did remember his parents' faces.

Huge muzzles hovering over his, like proud parents, or perhaps that of a pet owner. It didn’t matter to him, he was their child, and he was happy.

Then came the purge of insurgents.

He didn’t remember who they fought for, he didn’t know who they were, and he specifically didn’t remember how his parents were involved.

He knew, even then, that life could be cruel and unfair. Waiting around for things to get better on their own didn’t seem to suit his lifestyle, so he dug a little deeper, cut a little closer.

With his step-father’s sword by his side, he could start taking down some big-name targets.

But how the tides could quickly turn. The horrible leaders and two-timing merchants also had families, and they weren’t exactly awful fathers when they were alone. Depriving them of even their families was beneath his stature.

He didn’t like to kill. He just liked to steal. The people he spared would soon come after him, with bounty huntres, serial-killers, and the Sekiseigumi, the police force that worked for the Kugane government.

They would sooner become villains in their own right, and good luck to that, but it felt like a mercy that was spared too soon.

But then Purple Link arrived on the scene, and that blustering Hildebrand. He couldn’t believe his eyes that his world could flip-turn, upside-down, and show him a newer perspective.

And now he was doing it again.

What right did he have to be cynical, thought the Wolf Burglar about himself, all he could think about was a samurai sword and a few broken promises.

Promises he made to his parents.

Promises he made to his adoptive samurai father.

Promises he made to the people of Kugane, who were waiting for his salve of justice.

Then there was the possibility the world could be destroyed at any moment, he thought. The problem became too big in his mind to contemplate.

He decided he would leave that to the real Warrior of Light, to truth and justice, and whatever else he had on his plate.

Before he knew it, he was on the south side of Doma.

Doma and Doma Castle surrounded a large river, one that separated Doma from the section of the southern side of Othard. In the middle of the river, he could see, was the Doman Enclave, almost a small hutlet community from this distance.

…What was he going to do about Lord Hien, he thought. If everything went well, he could bring a whole new generation of Lupin security and peace. On the other hand…

As his thoughts drifted to the possibility of betraying Lord Hien, his eyes caught something. Something that hadn’t occurred to him before.

From the streets of Doma, a path wound it’s way down to the shores of the gulf, where stood a short pier. He hadn’t thought of it at the time, but the pier seemed too small to travel the One River without taking great pains to get to the sea, and eventually the ocean.

It didn't seem like it could berth huge trading ships easily. It must have been for local transport.

Cross the One River, on the other hand, and you had a small little island, one that shouldered a huge cliff face, and the gargantuan Dairyu Moon Gates.

These gates had recently been hijacked and refitted to include Garlean shield technology, but since the Garleans had left, there was no one there to deliver upkeep.

Anybody could pass through them.

He wondered…

The first thing that caught his eye was a tree that grew in a very odd way. It was almost tapering off and growing precisely upside-down and horizontally in tiers.

It was growing on top of a huge pillar of rock, not unlike those in the Doman Enclave.

It vaguely reminded him of something.

“...Upside-down tree…” said the Wolf Burglar, “But where are Ganen’s eyes?”

He snapped his fingers, and then flew around the gate, to the visage of Ganen carved into the very rock of the Dairyu Moon Gates.

He smiled briefly at the noble figure of the Doman leader, until he realized the eyes looked clouded over. Not only was the crystal laid into the eyes of the carving icy-blue, but a bunch of crude bird droppings had caked the the lenses. The leader was effectively blinded.

No one had come by to clean it. No one lived in Doma, Namai was too far away, and the namazu, those flippy-floopy catfish that lived in Yuzuka Manor, would probably live to clean it, if it weren’t for dealing with their own problems.

“So, if Ganen is blinded?” said the Wolf Burglar, feeling like he was onto something, “Where are his eyes…?

“In the back of his head!” recalled the Wolf Burglar, tapping his fist into his palm. He flew back around the Moon Gate, only to find the cliff face didn’t have any indications.

“...What?” said the Wolf Burglar, “No eyes…”

He shook his head.

“Maybe I’m imagining things,” said the Wolf Burglar, mildly disappointed, “It was just a dream, after all…”

Feeling like he monumentally wasted his own time, he was about to turn and leave, until he saw a pair of windows in the distance, in one of the columns of lookout towers posted in cardinal directions, each side of Doma Castle.

The whole place had been wrecked, purposefully destroyed by Lord Hien and the Warrior of Light, in an effort to drive out the Garleans.

The Wolf Burglar always thought that it was a terrible waste, not that it could spoil it’s newly organic beauty.

Cascading waterfalls flowed through the recently destroyed halls of the Rijin dynasty’s castle. The lookout towers seemed hardly touched.

The Wolf Burglar twisted his head sideways, as like a dog that heard the word treat the first time and wanted you to repeat it a couple more times just to make absolutely sure it heard you.

And what a treat it was, too. The tower looked an awful lot like the mustache and beard Lord Ganen wore on the other side of the gate.

Suddenly, and in a flash of imagination, everything became clear. The old lady au ra was talking about level ground, an upside-down tree, and the back of Lord Ganen’s eyes.

The eyes weren’t literally behind the carving, they were behind the gate, looking ponderously at the upside-down tree that hung over what looked like a perfect spot to hold a ceremony.

He flew to the side of the gate. He could see Purple Link hovering over the Glittering Basin, heading toward Plum Spring.

The Glittering Basin had a direct connection to Doma Castle, if the Lupin wanted to travel from there to the island. In turn, the Doman civilians could come down from their "high-horse," slumming it with the commoners that lived in the outskirts.

It couldn’t be more perfect.

A location that not only brought the Doman’s down a peg or two, but allowed everyone to travel as equals.

What’s more, with the Doman Enclave in view, it seemed even more appropriate, now that they were on even more equal ground.

“This feels too easy,” said the Wolf Burglar, his fur standing on end, “This couldn’t be…

"But it should be.

“I need to tell somebody,” said the Wolf Burglar, flying on Cloud Nine until he could reach Namai, the assumed direction that Purple Link headed towards after reaching the Plum Spring. He had a pretty good suspicion he could meet the Warrior of Light there.

He started to hoot and holler, howling like a mad wolf, his mind sparkling at the possibilities of what could be a most excellent ceremony.

…

It was 38-hours before the so-called ceremony was to take place, and they couldn’t get a clue to find the location before the Warrior of Light’s party could.

Before he could return to Akimitsu, the shadowy Lupin who had traveled to Ala Mhigo, felt it important to tail the heroes.

As they used the aethernet to travel to Yanxia, he figured it was as good a place to start as any. However, considering the bandits hadn’t officially attuned to the crystals, he had to go the long way around.

He figured it took him at least that long to get here, but he was awarded by the Warrior of Light's party taking high wing, looking all over the place for a location they had obviously not found yet.

What luck!

He hunkered down for a spell in a bush, and waited until he watched one of them discover something unusual about the landscape, in case it was here in Yanxia.

His favorite of the party to watch was the Wolf Burglar, not only because he felt a kinship to him, but also that he cut an interesting figure.

The Lupin didn’t wear bulky outfits, nor did he wear the general Lupin uniforms everyone had been wearing. The Garlean occupation was so recent, there hadn’t been time to tailor new outfits that could accommodate their unique body shapes and their generously floofy wolf tails.

On the other hand, the Wolf Burglar wore chainmail, and was often seen wearing sleeveless attire. He was the type that could afford expensive clothing and armor from Kugane.

But he didn’t hold a grudge against him for it. This shadowy Lupin was unashamedly jealous of the Wolf Burglar’s lifestyle, and wished that he could walk in two worlds as easily as that dashing Wolf Burglar did.

Eventually, his observation paid off. The Wolf Burglar spent an inordinately large amount of time hovering over a spot by the One River. As soon as the Wolf Burglar left, he traveled on foot to that very spot.

At first, he didn’t get it, because all he could find was a deserted island full of nothing but Whitewing Hornbills and Lightning Sprites.

And then he looked up, to see an upside-down tree, one that grew over the edge of the rock pillar.

He remembered what the Wolf Burglar told him about the Xaelan Au Ra and her dream.

Could that be true?

Could she see visions?

He looked around for anything eye shaped, and almost despaired, thinking that the Wolf Burglar had finally gone mad, but the way he was hooting and hollering, you’d think he’d found a holy grail.

On the side of the dilapidated Doma Castle, there were some windows that seemed to look like eyes, and at the right angle, they appeared to stare right at the upside down tree.

The shadowy Lupin grinned, feeling like things were finally starting to go his way.

“I can’t wait to tell Boss Akimitsu,” he shouted happily, hopping into his boat and rowing all the way back to the Glittering Basin.

To be continued…

(For those curious, the spot in question is X: 9.8 Y: 17.6 Z: 1.0 in Yanxia)

[cosybunny]

Can't believe Lune has infiltrated the story. You were supposed to be a one-off. You were supposed to go in, move the plot where it needs to be in Seashell Town, then get out. But nooooo you had to go make yourself interesting with the cyborg dysmorphia and the identity struggle that directly ties into Shadow's motif of rediscovering who you are and how far you'd go for your family as their paths collide again and again as enemies, allies, enemies, allies.

I am unwell (positive) about this arctic fox OC. Lune's a witty bastard. He's an escape artist. He can hear heartbeats. He gets more upgrades from Eggman as the story progresses for the purpose of destroying people he doesn't want to fight. Shatterspace shenanigans? Paradox Prism? No clue. All he wants is to go home and he fucking can't because he's a cyborg and his robotic parts will break down and kill him in the cold climate, and his 'saviour' is withholding the upgrade he needs as a final reward. He's a hostage and he's so wrong now that he doesn't know if his own mate will even recognise him. Hell knows he doesn't, sometimes.

He let his murderer go. He's got his revenge. Doesn't change what's happened. He's not a good person, never was. A good person would refuse to have any part in Eggman's schemes — a good person wouldn't have been a bandit in the first place. He lies and cheats and steals and harms. And still. Still.

he doesn't know who he is anymore, but he knows the kind of person he doesn't want to be — doesn't want to become the same kind of monster as the ones who did this to him.

[coolclaytony]

I don't know if Jello has ever gotten into the nitty-gritty about the the different countries in Epithet Erased. But here's some headcannons:

Australia

• The southernmost continent. The mysterious Australians are a reclusive people who's homeland is protected from outsiders by a severe storm that surrounds most of their territory, save for a single island which serves as the primary hub through which the country interacts with the rest of the world.

• Few people have gone to the Australian continent and returned; those that have speak of living dinosaurs, impossible weather patterns, animals that defy description, music in the air, and people with unusual anatomies that might not even be human.

• Australia is said to be even bigger than has been explored thus far, but it's natives refuse to give outsiders too much of a glimpse for too long.

• The Australians possess technology seen nowhere else and they horde their advancements agressively.

• Those who have seen the capital of Canada note that it seems paradoxically primitive compared to the rest of the country. But why that is has not been determined.

Deepwood Country

• The Deepwood is not actually a single forest, but several that converge on eachother. The north bordering Taiga country is a open canopy boreal forest; with a closed canopy boreal forest further to the east, the middle-country is composed of a dedicious, coniferous, and temperate forests; the Capital of Bellmouth sits where these three forests touch eachother, the south is has tropical forests of every variety. The areas where different forests overlap have animals seen nowhere else.

• Each forest has it's own tribe that calls it home. They don't get along, but Bellmouth has done a lot of work in last few centuries getting them to cooperate for the country's collective well being.

• Other countries covet the Deepwood's ample and diverse lumber. But while logging does happen in Deepwood, it tightly regulated with sustainability and environmental health held as chief concerns. This results in Deepwood lumber exports being very expensive and leads to resentment from the other countries.

Desert Country

• Tall mountains surround the border of the continent that makes up Desert Country, ensuring the entire area is dry and arid.

• The Desert used to be much smaller, but an old kingdom that used to rule the country over exploited it's natural resources and caused the desert to expand rapidly.

• Consequently, the country is criplingly dependent on foreign imports and many of it's citizens live in poverty. Bandit Clans run nearly unopposed by the government. Many a settlement has dissappeared under devastating and frequent sand storms; thus most people live as nomads.

• Mining has become the chief industry of Desert Country and the Republic of Longshot has not learned from the mistakes of it's predecessor. Mining operations are private institutions who treat their workers virtually like slave labor and little care is made for the already struggling ecosystem.

• The petrified skeletons of the continent's now extinct megafauna litter the landscape of the Desert. Some of the larger ones are used as building material in some settlements.

• Fresh water is so hard to find in Desert Country that it can be bartered and the government is ruthless in it's efforts to control what few remaining natural water sources exist. Purposefully dumping water is considered a crime punishable by death.

Island Country

• The the Coalition of the Islands in Coriolis city manages the most prolific navy in the world and the country's near monopoly on international trade has made it the single wealthiest nation in the world.

• Island country maintains trade ports in most every other country and it has been accused multiple times in history of attempting to colonize and conquer the rest of the world. The Admiral of the Coalition denies this.

• Every island in the country is it's own unique and distinguished culture and as such, trading and naval ships come in a cluttered hodgepodge of designs and functions.

• The Capital of Coriolis is a cluster of barges, rigs, harbors, and anchored ships put in place around a massive unending whirlpool that has deep spiritual significance to adjacent island cultures. Without the barges that anchor the city to the nearby islands, it would be sucked into the vortex.

Ocean Country*

*Read Prison of Plastic, as that book gives us lots of context about what Ocean Country is like.

• Though they are technologically sophisticated enough to compete with Australia, the country's true power lies in it's citizens skill with the mystic arts. Most everyone, even Mundies, possess some talent with magic.

• He Who Hungers, however, will suffer noone in his vicinity who could even 'potentially' rival his power. Thus most government officials are non-magical mundies equipped with mystical gear built by enslaved inscribed.

• All people of the Ocean are expected to prepare for the day when He Who Hungers achieves Proficiency 100 and begins his grand mission of conquest against the surface world.

Taiga Country

• Taiga country used to be a communist republic, but meddling in the country's politics by Island Country lead to a shift towards free-market capitalism.

• Sweet Jazz City is in-fact where Jazz was invented. The city was named after a mundie pirate.

• The country famously has been home to many of the most legendary Inscribed in history and every settlement has at least one Inscribed hero who left a significant impact in the world. As such, the state is even more legally preferential of Inscribed than anywhere else to the point of absurdity.

• Hot Coacoa is a national beverage and traditional Taiga Folk culture is very Christmas-esque.

@dailycharacteroption

[enemyoflactose]

Since chapter 4 is out and done, here are the decks I have given the characters for duels and stuff. This will span over my fanfic multiverse. If you have any suggestions please let me know and I will consider them.

Ishizu: Tearlament

Marik: Scare claw

Yami Marik: kashtira/scare claw

Odion: Mannadium

Kaiba: blue eyes/knight-mare

Yugi: Crusadia/dark magician

Yami: dark magician/mekk-knight

Joey: red eyes/world legacy

Tristan: s-force/Mayakashi

Téa: Aromage

Rex: dino rabbit

Weevil: Inzector/traptrix

Mako: umi control

Mai: Harpie lady

Espa Roba: Jinzo

Yami Bakura: Labyrinth/Dark Necrofear

Ryou: spell book/Mayakashi

Bonz: ghost trick/eldiltch the golden lord

Pegasus: in series toons/relinquished

Bandit Keith: gamble cheating

Duke Devlin: gambling

Mokuba: masked hero/turbo hungry burger

Serenity: melffy

Lumis+umbra: chaos

Exodia guy: crappy exodia deck

Strings: Marik deck

Arkana: dark magician deck

Panik: funky

Paradox brothers: labyrinth wall