#surrounded by things that protect it (like is also done for every other shaped thing in a box)

[spotforme]

yeah i fit in a box, i actually made that box for myself, it's got armholes and everything!

[certfieddilusional]

It would kill you to try? Javier Peña x female reader part.2

pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

summary: You joined The DEA three months ago & after spending most of those days doing calm investigation work at the office, it’s time to face the real danger and go undercover along with Peña and Murphy to follow one of Escobar’s sicarios’ journey. But something unexpected happens that changes the work relationship you have with Javier. And that indifference you used to have between each other seems to unravel into fire,prejudice and something deeper.

chapter/content warning: swearing (like a lot of it), mentions of blood and guns, mentions of prostitution, injuries. Angst, a lot of anger and dramaaaaa. Not really that loyal to the plot of the show.

english is not my first language so, sorry if you find any mistakes.

Weeks have passed since your little first expedition and along with that, your first exchange of an actual conversation with Javier Peña, that didn’t include monosyllables or office talk. Adding also Murphy in the picture, you have grown fond of the pair, exchanging more interactions and actually getting to know them better with every little mission you had to go through by their side.

Obviously, after that, Javier never said anything to Murphy or anyone at the office. But you could tell he had his quiet ways to protect you of posible risks and dangerous things, result of the expeditions you were assigned to make with them. Like for example, always positioning himself in-front of you, covering you like some sort of shield. And if Murphy goes first, he covers your back. Or the way he explains everything to you in the car before facing the situation. Like, who are you probably going to face, what to do if actual danger happens and how he’ll act if you get blocked or fail a step of the plan. He knew that has happened to you very often in the past, with cases you were really nervous about. Sometimes he kinda over dones himself and that has lead to small fights between you the two of you. You don’t like to feel fragile, and his silly methods of protection create that illusion in your head. It feels like you need to ask for his permission to make the next step. But he’s aware of your abilities. And most of the time, him and Murphy get really impress with your knowledge on the field.

The rest of the office also noticed that new closeness you both started growing. And that has also shape-shift the entire way some of them treat you. The guys stopped being such assholes and the jokes weren’t there anymore, at least not as often. You weren’t the ghost of the office anymore. They started to respect you and you could tell even some of them were a little intimidating by your presence. It bothered you that it took two other men’s approval for them to consider you somebody worth of respect. But that, unfortunately, was a common thing on a job like this. Some of the girls, on the other side, were a little jealous. And the ones that weren’t used you as some sort of source of information to get to Javier’s dating life or biography. Many questions were asked: “Is he seeing someone?” “What is he like?” “Does he treat you right?” “Do you find him attractive?” “Is he as committed in his job as he is at…you know”. Hello? Most of them you didn’t have the answer for. I mean, you barely even knew the man apart from the big rumors and his nicotine addiction. And somehow he knew how to keep those details in private to keep that mysterious aura surrounding him. It kinda made you sick to your stomach.

But you liked the fact that you didn’t know shit. You did not want to get your hopes down. At the end of the day, the man was nice to you. Polite. Not as nice as Murphy but he played the part. The same Murphy that greeted you at your arrival and shoved at you a copy of the newspaper, for you to read the most recent story about Escobar’s up to not good actions.

“Are you ready for another expedition, Gomez? Don’t worry, this time you’re staying in the car so we won’t have to act like your personal bodyguards, again” he joked with a side smile staring at you with his shiny blue eyes.

He always managed to noticed. And that made you a little nervous for some reason.

“Very funny, Murphy. Dismissing my job, again” you continued with the joke “I was expecting more of you, to be honest, I thought you weren’t like the rest” you crossed your legs in a seductive way, along with your arms.

“Oh, come on, baby. You know I’m better than these pricks” he gestured towards the other guys at the office who used do the same to you just weeks ago.

“Hey, Murphy, quit it” said one of the agents from their desks.

You and Murphy exchanged a smile and Peña was the next to show up in the room. Causing his obvious effect.

“Well, look who’s surprisingly showing early after another fun night” mention the same agent from before as Peña approached.

“Morning” he said to you in a calm tone, he did the same to Murphy and completely ignored the dude.

“What do you think about having such a life of the party as a partner, miss Gomez?”

Of course you were the one the question was directed to. You debated internally if answering was a good idea, ignoring it sounded appealing.

But your ego was stonger.

“Honestly? I don’t really give a fuck, Henry” you responded looking behind you to the subject’s eyes “I just focus on my job, unlike you.”

The room went silent except for Murphy’s big laugh. And Javier looked at you with a smirk on his mouth while sitting down on his chair.

“Yeah you should work on that, Henry” reassured between laughs another agent in the room.

Javier couldn’t help but laugh a little too and Murphy quickly joined him again. You started fake reading the newspaper, avoiding their stares but they couldn’t take them away from you.

“Could you not? I’m reading.”

They both rapidly went back to focus on the papers in their desks and murmured a funny ‘sorry’ trying really hard to contain their laughter.

They wouldn’t shut up about it for the whole day, and you knew.

—

The sound of a phone ringing started to smash the back of your head, feeling even more prominent by the second. You adjusted your eyes to the darkness of the room and lifted one arm trying really hard to reach the switch from the closest lamp next to your bed.

“¿Hola?” you answered in almost a whisper with the thought of it maybe being your mom, who still didn’t fully control the timezone of Colombia.

“Gomez.”Murphy answered in his American accent and that woke you up entirely “Sorry to wake you. Something happened, I need you here as fast as you can…” he explained in an anxious tone “I don’t know who else to call.”

“What? What happened?” you stood up quickly from the bed, causing you to blackout a little from the speed “Where’s Javier?”

“Just be fast, okay?” he hanged up after that.

Still feeling like in a dream state. You rapidly got ready and approached the location Murphy told you. The taxi dropped you off in the same exact building you three were, two weeks ago to be exact, following one of Escobar’s man. And it suddenly hit you as you hit the car’s door to close it. Javier wasn’t there, just Murphy and Carillo, waiting outside the car, two meters away from the building. Talking. Almost screaming to each other.

You approached them and Murphy immediately went to you. But he didn’t say anything.

“What’s going on?”

You looked at him trying to find an answer, both agents couldn’t take their eyes of the ground.

“Is it Peña? It’s Peña, right?” Murphy ran his hands through his hair “Murphy!” you insisted in desperation.

“He fucked it up big this time” Carillo was the one to talk first. He looked really pissed and that almost took your breath away.

What the fuck did he do this time.

“Is he inside?” you tried again with Murphy, searching for his eyes. He looked like he was in some sort of trance and that made you even more nervous “Murphy! What the heck is wrong with you?!”

“Yes” Carillo talked for him again.

“They have him” Murphy finally gain the strength to talk “Escobar’s men.”

You couldn’t help but close your eyes and sigh.

“This motherfucker…” you murmured “What did he do? How the fuck is he inside?!”

You knew that wasn’t accidental. Nothing about Javier Peña seemed to be. He clearly put himself in that position and all of you knew that. What shocked you was that, he actually got caught this time. The DEA was gonna murder you if they found out. Worst. You could definitely get fired. That’s probably why you three were the only people there.

“Who called you?” you asked Carillo this time. You knew somebody have had to warned them about this. Some of the men Carrillo worked with had direct contact with these bastards. They probably called asking about some sort of reward in exchange for the information. That’s how fucked up everything was.

“They did” you took a step back “they say they’re willing to…negotiate.”

“We’re not doing that.”

“Gomez…” called you out Murphy.

“We’re not doing that! We could get fired. We’re entering this building and we’re getting him out of there. Like we were taught.”

“Well that’s a beautiful speech. But we can’t. We don’t have the resources. We couldn’t even go after that motherfucker that day, there’s no way we’re entering that building with who knows how many armed men inside and hookers.” Murphy was fast at pinching your bubble.

“Hookers?! There’s hookers inside?!”

So the rumors were true. Oh, this motherfucker was unbelievable.

“Yes, hookers. It’s Peña we’re talking about, of course there’s freaking hookers inside” responded Carillo with a furious tone “or should I say, informants.”

“We need to call the office, get back up, we cou-”

You cut Murphy off before he could continued spilling what sounded like bullshit to you out of his mouth.

“We are not doing that” you repeated firmly “I’m not gonna lose my job because you two, bastards, can’t keep it in your pants and do what you’re told to” Murphy looked at you with guilt in his eyes.

You took your gun out of the inside of your jacket and charged it.

“We’re getting in.”

Neither Carillo or Murphy had a clue of what got into you, to actually wanna risks your life for someone like Javier. But you knew it wasn’t entirely about honor, but more about pride. He wasn’t protecting you this time. It was your turn to actually act like the agent you always wanted to be. Like that role was actually yours. Start acting up. Over doing it if it was necessary.

“I don’t know, Gomez. Let’s think about this.”

“You’re being such a pussy right now, Murphy” you quoted him to him, earning a sight from the man “Carrillo” you called.

Carrillo looked at you firmly.

“Are you in?” you asked hopeful.

Carrillo looked at Murphy and then at you. And sighed.

“Yes.”

“Then cover my back” you said getting close to the entrance of the building. You turned your head towards Murphy “He’s never going to forgive you about this.”

You really didn’t want to say that to him. But you played all your cards in order to make him change his mind. You knew you were gonna need all the help you could get. You and Carrillo entered the building that looked like some sort of hotel. There was nobody there except for the receptionist who quickly gasped at you the second she spotted the guns you were holding.

“DEA” you explained, showing her your plaque and pressing one finger over your lips, indicating her to stay quiet.

She obeyed and kept silence. She didn’t look dangerous at all, you felt really sorry so many innocent people were involved in this bullshit. Slowly you turn into the stairs, making sure the coast was clear and gestured Carrillo to follow you up into the first floor of rooms.

“He’s really lucky to have you” whispered Carrillo referring to Peña in a sarcastic tone.

“If we get out of this, I’m changing partners.”

He tried not to laugh while following you down the corridor. You arrived to the first door, pressing your back to the wall, focusing on any sort of sound coming out of it. You didn’t hear anything. Before reaching for the doorknob, you noticed a thin thread of blood flowing out the room by the end of the door.

You swallowed. Suddenly the shaking of your hands became present.

“You want me to…?” started Carrillo noticing you were not moving.

“It’s okay.”

You opened the door slowly.

A body was laying next to the bed, mattress and sheets covered in red. A long browned haired and fully naked woman was lying on the ground. You rapidly got on your knees and checked her pulse. None.

“She’s dead.”

Your body was starting to lose the confidence of earlier. And it was starting to get hard to focus on your breath and ignoring the lack of oxygen entering your lungs. You freaking hated Peña for putting you through this. For putting this woman through this. For putting Carrillo through this and every single one of you. This wasn’t professional or brave of him. This was the most selfish act you’ve ever seen. Maybe he really was an asshole. Maybe he really didn’t deserve your respect. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be rescued.

“Gomez?” Carrillo called your name from the doorframe “Y/n” he repeated until you focused on him “I heard something, on the last room down the hall”.

You got out of the room trying really hard to not look back at the woman’s face. You focused on the noise. Sounded like someone complaining, someone wounded. A small ‘fuck’ coming out in a whisper.

“It’s him” you both said at the same time.

“Wait” Carrillo stopped you “let me go first.”

You looked at him with one eyebrow lifted.

“You’re loosing it, if he’s surrounded we gotta be quick” he explained.

“Shut up” you didn’t listen and walked past him, holding up your gun.

If someone had to accidentally shoot him, it was going to be you.

You two walked slowly making sure that if someone else was in the room with him, they wouldn’t hear you two coming. Once you were close you got ready, hands firmed on the gun, you looked at Carillo behind you and nodded.

One. Two. Three.

You two pointed with the gun at the inside of the room. Javier was tied, both hands and ankles next to the window close to the bed. Sitting down on the floor looking tiredly at you. He’s hair was messy and he had a black eye, along with some wounds on his neck. Blood dripping from his lip.

He had never look more defenseless. And suddenly your anger was replaced with concern.

“Gomez?” he spoke softly.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer.

“The coast is clear. There’s nobody in the room” mention Carrillo coming out of the bathroom.

You dropped to your knees, next to him. Untying him in a fast way. He murmured some words to you but you weren’t able to hear any of them. You called Carrillo and asked him to help you. Javier kept talking to you but you didn’t answer any of his questions, so he eventually gave up trying. It was like you were in automatic mode. You both dragged him out of that place, gaining some looks from the previous and still, traumatized, receptionist. And met Murphy waiting for you at the entrance, holding up his gun. Once he saw you, he quickly ran to the car to get it closer to where you were. You rested Javier on the passenger’s seat, and you joined Carrillo on the backseat.

Nobody talked on your way to the hospital. Neither of you could believe what just happened.

—

“He wants to see you” Murphy joined you in the waiting room. Thirty minutes passed before they finally let someone visit him.

“Is he okay?” you asked without looking at him.

“Yeah, he had some wounds on his chest but he was smart enough to wear his bulletproof vest so, he’ll be okay. The black eye though, looks gross.”

“Then I’m going home” you finally spoke standing up.

“Oh, come on, Gomez. You saved his ass.”

“I don’t need flattery. I need some sleep.”

Murphy stopped you, grabbing you by your shoulder.

“Look, he is in fact an asshole…but he was really worried. And I think he feels really bad” you rolled your eyes “If you talk to him, he might actually let you punch him in the other eye.”

—

Javier was sitting down on the hospital bed, neck and chest cover with bandages under his blood stained shirt that was wide open. A swollen eye and puppy stare redirected towards you, while you entered the place. It felt almost illegal to see him like this. So vulnerable, so far away from his tough image. The image he tried to implant in everyone’s mind. The image of a smart man. He looked more broken that smart. And still he managed to stand up.

“You good?” he asked like the last time he saw you cry after your mom’s call. A question that maybe you should be asking him instead.

“You look like shit” you spilled instead. Because before anything, you were mad at him.

He smirked a little “Well, you can’t always look like a heartthrob.”

You didn’t react to his comment.

“I’m so-”

“So are you gonna still renting hookers after this?”

He froze. He looked at you making sure that those words did actually left your mouth.

“It’s not what you think” he stated “and besides I don’t think is none of your business If I do.”

You were starting to regret entering that room.

“It is when it risks lives.”

He looked down.

“I wasn’t trying to risks any lives. I was trying to helped her.”

You chuckled.

“You want a medal, Peña?”

“I’m being serious. What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?! What’s wrong with you?! You fucking idiot. You almost got us fired!” you exploited “When are you gonna start learning to cooperate, Peña? When are you gonna be responsible about your position?”

He sat back on the bed.

“You’re alive because of me. Because nobody wanted to enter that building, not even Murphy, let alone Carrillo. And I get it, I really get it, you don’t deserve someone risking their lives over you.”

He could tell that it was not only anger that was coming out if you, but raw honesty. Disappointment. He was used to causing that effect on people. He was the best at that. But he really hoped he wouldn’t cause that on you too.

So he really tried to change it.

“I’m sorry. But it’s really not what you think” he didn’t give up “She is one of my informants.”

You rolled your eyes remembering Carrillo’s words from before.

“Joder…I swear. I was there to rescued her, she called me. I know this woman. She’s a friend.”

“Oh yeah, a 'friend'. You frequent a lot of those.”

“She gave us the location of one of Escobar’s man.”

Your eyes widened.

“Did Murphy knew?” you asked containing your desires to strangle him.

“Of course not.” he answered whining a little from his position “But they did.”

Your hands flew immediately to your face.

“I was the only resource she had, so she call me & I came and I don’t regret it.”

You took a step back, your back facing him this time. You really couldn’t look at him right now. You kept thinking, in some way, that woman died thanks to you. Thanks to him. He felt the same way. And in the process of trying to stop that from happening, he almost got himself killed. Along with the rest of you.

“You’re unbelievable” your murmured, facing him “You put the princess at risks and then you go and rescue her. That’s how it works for you.”

“Well, sometimes it’s the only way.”

“Did you know you’re a part of the problem? You’re paying for the same service, abusing the same power. The only difference is that they are fucking narcos and you’re a fucking cop. You should do the right thing, shouldn’t you?”

He stood up, angry. Getting closer to you. Mentioning his job, it felt like a personal thing now.You knew how to push the right buttons to piss him off. And like he taught you, you acted up, pushed them harder.

“What are you gonna do? Treat me like one of your whores?”

He stoped himself.

“You don’t know shit” he spat furious. Almost not vocalizing the words.

“I respected you” you ended “I thought it was mutual.” you got ready to leave him alone, before closing the door, you checked on him one last time “By the way, you failed. She’s dead.”

[delicatemusickingdom]

Book 1 Part 1 Chapter 2.2 (2/2)

After hearing their story, Yuri didn’t even have time to click his tongue before he rushed out of ‘My Home’. He didn’t ask the bewildered Jareth and others to accompany him. If they all went together, there was a chance the commotion could attract the adults’ attention, but he wasn’t concerned about that right now. 

Someone unfamiliar with the notoriety of the Grey Alleyways had gone inside. And it was Flynn, of all people. That had lit an indescribable fire within Yuri. Was it because it was Flynn? Was Yuri concerned for his safety? He didn’t really know. He only knew that he had to go — and it was because of that thought alone, that he had moved. 

It wasn’t until he had spent quite a while in the Grey Alleyways that he realised he was all alone.  Even when he stopped to listen, there were no signs of Jareth and the others following after him.

I don’t think they’ll come here on their own. Yuri resigned himself and steeled his resolve. Thus, he started wandering through the eerie Grey Alleyways, all alone in the night. 

“Back then, at least we were all together.” 

Yuri was also with them when Jareth and the others challenged the Grey Alleyways. He didn’t remember the reason why. Maybe he thought it would be fun just like the others, or maybe he tried to stop them but was dragged along instead. Either way, just like everyone else, before he knew it, he ended up getting lost. 

It would be a lie to say Yuri wasn’t as scared as Jareth and the other boys. But in front of his tear-filled friends, he thought he had to do something, and exhausted his brain trying desperately to search for an exit. Eventually, he was more angry than scared at the grey labyrinth. 

After being rescued by the adults, Jareth and the other boys avoided talking about the Grey Alleyways, but Yuri remained unfazed. He didn’t challenge the area again, but that was because he still had some sense of discretion — Jiri’s fists had their own kind of effectiveness. 

Since the first time he entered and even now, Yuri wasn’t particularly afraid of the numerous rumours surrounding the Grey Alleyways,. 

The barrier protects the city from any invading monsters. That was common knowledge among the residents of the Imperial Capital no matter their status. The reason such supernatural rumours continued to exist despite that fact was because humans were fundamentally superstitious creatures. 

The children of the lower quarter were the same, but Yuri wasn’t particularly affected by such dubious tales. It wasn’t that he lacked the imagination, or wasn’t interested. But he so frequently lent a hand in other people’s troubles, that he had developed a habit of being distrustful towards things he was unsure of. Most of the time it was the other children who landed themselves in said troublesome matters, but no matter how much Yuri thought they got what was coming to them, he was never able to leave them alone after seeing the helpless expressions on their faces. 

The adults he was close to, like Hanks and Jiri, did not particularly entertain such superstition, and he could have been largely influenced by that too. Some people might see Yuri as lacking any sort of cuteness as a child, but in any case, it was thanks to such a personality that he was now able to proceed without getting overly frightened. 

Nevertheless, he took precautionary measures in his own way. 

“And this stone here… done.” 

At the T-shaped junction, Yuri took out a piece of charcoal from his pocket and made a black mark on the grey wall. He had grabbed it from among the ashes of the fireplace before he had rushed out of ‘My Home’. That part of him, at least, had remained cool-headed.

If he made a mark every time he came across a junction in the road, at least he’d be able to know the way back. When he had gotten lost before, there were many times where he had thought, If only I had done it this way. He never thought he would have the opportunity to try it out like this. 

However, in this alleyway where it was hard to tell left from right, the odds of ‘winning’ hadn’t really changed since the previous time. Plus, it was daytime then — now it was nighttime. If anything, the odds were even lower. If he wasn’t careful, he might even lose sight of the marks he had painstakingly left behind.  

He was already deeper in the place than the last time he was here. 

If what Jareth and the others said was true, the place Flynn’s cap had fallen was even deeper inside. He still had a long way to go. 

In the first place, they said it was deep inside, but was he sure he was going in the right direction? Even if he wanted to check, the winding corners and looming darkness made it completely impossible to see the path straight ahead. He tried entering a nearby building and looking out from the rooftop, but after a while he found himself in the same situation again. 

At this rate I’ll never be able to find Flynn. Or even worse, I can’t say it won’t happen, but I might end up collapsing and no one would know. Without realising it, he found his gaze falling towards at the charcoal clutched in his hand. 

Oh, whatever. I’ll deal with it when the time comes. 

As he prepared to take another step forward, he suddenly tensed up. He quickly scanned his surroundings. 

He thought he had heard something. Was it my imagination? No, there it is again. The footsteps are faint — what’s more, they’re getting closer. This rhythm, this interval… it’s a person.  

Suddenly, the rumours of the Grey Alleyways came rushing back to him. Among them were stories of dead people who had gotten lost inside the labyrinth, stuck roaming about even after they had rotted away — Aaand, stop.

Yuri shook his head to clear away the thoughts in his head. Instead of worrying about such fantasies, I should focus on reality instead. 

“Listen carefully. 

Only people that have hands they can hold a knife properly with have the ability to hurt others. Personally, I think ghosts will find that a bit too heavy for them to handle.” 

Grandma Jiri had once said those joke-laden words without so much as a smile on a face. 

Yuri closed the lid on his lantern to prevent any light from escaping and hid behind a building. Depending on who it was, he would either ignore them or launch a surprise attack. In terms of weapons, though, all he had was a stone that was lying by his feet. It was at times like this that he really wished he had learnt at least one sword technique. Even if he didn’t have said essential sword with him. 

The footsteps were definitely approaching him. As his eyes slowly adjusted, Yuri stared intently at the darkness ahead of him. They’re almost at the corner, but I can still only see darkness. Are they really wandering around these dark streets without a light? What if it really is a ghost— stop thinking that.

Someone, or something, appeared around the corner. It was too dark to make it out clearly, but the shape looked human. At the very least, it wasn’t a stray dog, much less a ghost. 

It slowly approached. Yuri gripped his stone and prepared himself. 

And then, the footsteps stopped. As if they were confused, and were observing their surroundings. 

Don’t tell me — did they notice me? A chill ran down Yuri’s spine. 

Yuri hesitated. Should he act first before they made a move? Even in the darkness, at this distance he could probably hit his target. 

But. But in the one in a millionth chance —

Yuri tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth, and somehow managed to squeeze out his words. 

“……Is that you, Flynn?” 

The other person jumped, visibly startled at the sudden call. 

“Who’s there? If I remember correctly, that voice…”

He was right. Yuri let out the breath he was holding, and relaxed all the tension in his body. He opened the lid of his lantern and stood up, exposing himself. 

“It’s Yuri. Yuri Lowell.” 

Come to think of it, I hadn’t properly given him my name until now. A bit too late for that, though.

The person who emerged from the glow of the lantern was unmistakably Flynn. Like Jareth said, he must have been wandering around in this place all day since morning, without eating or drinking. Even in the dark and covered in dust, it was obvious he was exhausted. 

Once Flynn knew who he was, he probably remembered what happened a month ago. His eyes were filled with caution. Still, he looked relieved to encounter another human in this labyrinth, especially so since he recognised them. 

“Yuri…”

Flynn slowly enunciated the name, as if to confirm that the person standing in front of him was real, and not an illusion. 

Upon hearing his voice, Yuri realised that this was the first time they had spoken each other’s names. Even though it had been a while since their first meeting, that realisation made Yuri feel once again the distance that lay between them. 

Yuri looked at the thing Flynn held in his hand. Although it was slightly dirty, there was no doubt it was his cap. In other words— 

Unknowingly, Yuri’s face contorted. The reason Flynn dared to enter the Grey Alleyways without hesitation was because he didn’t know any better. That was fine. But for him to venture into the heart of the labyrinth —  that everyone in the lower quarter avoided for fear of getting lost — in a search of a tiny cap, find it, and then make it all the way back here, without even needing a light. He wasn’t even an adult. He was a kid, no different from me. 

Could this guy really be a ghost or something similar after all?

“……Hey, how did you even find your way back here?”

In response to Yuri’s question, Flynn made an expression like he didn’t quite understand. 

“I just retraced my steps.”

“‘Just’, you say… You’re kidding. What kind of trick did you use?” 

“I didn’t do anything special. I’ve never been here before, so I took extra care not to forget the directions, that’s all.”

He’s a monster in a completely different sense. Yuri thought to himself, unsure if he should feel surprised or horrified. 

While Yuri remained speechless, Flynn seemed to have judged that there was no need to be cautious anymore, and walked towards him. The distance between the two of them slowly decreased. 

“If you don’t need anything, please move aside. I’m going home. I don’t want to worry my mother.” 

He said, in the same tone that rejected everything and detached himself from the world around him. Yuri backed away without a word. Tired or not, it was clear that he didn’t need saving, and even if he did he wasn’t going to accept it.

I’m glad you found your cap. Yuri thought about saying that, but he felt like that would make Flynn angry, so he kept quiet. He silently watched as the blond-haired boy walked past him, with weariness in his steps. 

Suddenly, Flynn stopped.

“……Yuri, why did you come here?” 

“Because I heard about your cap, I guess.”

As for what he planned to do after he found Flynn, he didn’t say. Even if he wanted to, he himself didn’t really know what to say. Was it because he was cleaning up after Jareth and the boys’ mess, or because he was atoning for what he did to Flynn, or was it because he was worried about Flynn, or maybe — 

But Flynn seemed satisfied with that answer. He turned around a little, and looked down at his cap. 

“This is… something that Mother made for me when we came here. I couldn’t lose it. Absolutely not.” 

As he spoke to himself, Flynn turned to face Yuri.

“You’re a strange person, aren’t you.” 

“……Maybe so.” 

Suddenly, Yuri felt like there was something he recognised in Flynn’s eyes, something that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps it was a trick of the dim light and flickering shadows. But before Yuri could determine what it was, Flynn gave him a small nod, before turning his back again and starting to walk. 

Yuri shrugged. Keeping his distance, he also started to walk. 

After that the two of them didn’t exchange any more words. Flynn didn’t look like he wanted to talk, and Yuri didn’t start up a conversion either. The invisible and hard ‘something’ between the two of them had softened a little, but the change was so subtle neither of them were aware of it. 

****

But I have to say, he has quite the impressive memory. 

Flynn actually didn’t need a light or charcoal markings, as he proceeded down the correct path leading outside of the Grey Alleyways without getting lost once. Yuri was once again filled with admiration. 

Yuri didn’t doubt Flynn when he said he had memorised the path. But when they finally reached the end of the Grey Alleyways and a the familiar row of eaves came into view at the end of the path, Yuri felt relieved, and at the same time, couldn’t help but stare intently at Flynn.

So there are people like this that exist in this world —

“Who’s there?!” 

A loud voice suddenly rang out. Yuri instinctively froze, thinking the adults from the lower quarter had noticed them, but the footsteps echoing down the alley dispelled his worries. Even though it was hard to make out their figures due to each other’s harsh lighting, that noisy metallic clank was clearly the sound of armour. There was no way it came from a lower quarter resident — it was a knight. They must have noticed Yuri and Flynn because of their light. Yuri realised he had to be careful in a completely different way now. 

The knights who were responsible for keeping the peace and maintaining security in the Imperial Capital. The knights were an unwelcome presence in the lower quarter as they often adopted a coercive attitude towards its residents. In the first place, as the only officially armed organisation in the Empire, the members of the Knights rarely went ventured into the lower quarter.

To the lower quarter residents, it didn’t matter if they had something to hide or not. The fact that the knights were here was in itself a sign of trouble.

Yuri knew some of the knights were commoners. For commoners, it was incredibly difficult to join the Imperial Knights. But there were always people who aspired to join, because it was one of the few ways a commoner could advance their career in the Empire. 

And regardless of whether they were nobles or commoners, all of the knights treated the lower quarter residents harshly. They all came from the ‘other side of the wall’. There was no such thing as a knight that came from the lower quarter, a knight that was born in there. 

Even though it was at night, the knights ran towards them without any hesitation, making clanking noises as they ran. Normally he would have run away, but unfortunately the only way he could go was the one in front of him, from where the knights were coming from, and the one behind him, where the Grey Alleyways was. Obviously he had no intention of going back in, so Yuri resigned himself to waiting patiently as they approached. 

Speaking of which, Flynn was also staring intensely at the knights without making a single sound. 

Eventually the knights arrived in front of Yuri and Flynn. It was unusual to see them not wearing helmets, but despite that the armour-clad knights still gave off an intimidating impression, even when silent. Surrounded by them, Yuri and Flynn looked even smaller. 

One of the knights thrusted a lux blastia in their faces, not caring if it blinded the two of them. The silhouettes of the two of them were illuminated in the bright light. 

“Oh, it’s only some brats from the lower quarter. What are you two even doing out here at this time of the night?” 

There was blatant contempt in the knight’s tone. One day, I’ll hit all of these guys’ heads like ringing a bell, Yuri thought, as he held it in and struggled to remain calm. 

Sorry, we just got lost, he was about to say, when Flynn took half a step forward. When Yuri glimpsed his face from the side, was shocked. 

There was something dangerous in his expression. Beneath his golden hair, he shot a burning glare at the knights. Yuri had seen that look before — it was the same as the one a month ago, during the confrontation in front of Flynn’s house. 

Is he going to pick a fight with the knights?! Yuri hurriedly pulled on Flynn’s sleeve as a warning. 

But before he could, Flynn spoke up.

“We haven’t done anything to be blamed for.” 

He said flatly. Upon hearing his challenging tone, for a moment, Yuri and the knights froze, as if they couldn’t understand what he was saying. Then—

“How dare you talk back to us, you little—!” 

A sharp sound rang out. In front of Yuri’s eyes, he saw the knight slap Flynn. Even if it wasn’t a punch, it still came from an adult, who was wearing gauntlets. The blow to Flynn’s cheek sent his body flying sideways, and he fell onto the stone-paved ground. 

Without a word, Yuri ran over and tried to help him up, but Flynn refused his help and stood up on his own. His cheek, where he had been slapped, was dyed crimson. The inside of his mouth was probably cut as well, and a thin line of red blood trickled from the corner of his tightly pressed mouth down his chin. 

But Flynn’s gaze did not waver. In fact, it was the adult knights who flinched. All of them, not just the knight who had slapped him, tensed up and leaned forward. 

Yuri started to panic. At this rate, the knights will beat Flynn up. No matter how skilled he is, he can’t put up a fight against real knights, let alone several of them. 

Well then, what to do?

At that moment, one of the knights lifted a finger and pointed, as if he’d been struck. It wasn’t at Yuri and Flynn, but at something behind, or above them. 

“H-Hey, look!” 

The other knights turned to look in the direction he was pointing. Confused by the sudden turn of events, Yuri and Flynn also turned to look. What is it this time?

A row of buildings formed distorted ridgelines in the darkness. On top of them, someone was there. Like the buildings, they were mostly shrouded in shadow, and you could barely make out their silhouette. They were wearing so many layers of clothes, it was impossible to discern whether they were a man or a woman. There they stood in full view, on top of the roofs of the buildings, with the moon forming a halo behind them. 

“I-It’s the Dark Wings!”

One of the knights cried out. 

“You there, don’t move!” 

The other knights cried out in unison, and holding up their lux blastia, started running. 

Grasping the situation, the silhouette swiftly turned around and disappeared behind the rooftops. The knights gave chase, shouting ‘Stop!’ and ‘Come quietly!’. It was as if they had forgotten about the boys. 

“The Dark Wings…”

Yuri muttered as the footsteps and yells gradually faded into the distance. According to the rumours, they were a famous thief that only targeted nobles and the rich. So that was them?

The knights must have come all the way here chasing the thief. Otherwise I don’t think they would have bothered showing up at a place like this at night. If the thief had run into the Grey Alleyways, would the knights have continued to pursue them?

Flynn remained silent, staring straight ahead. Yuri couldn’t tell if his gaze was directed at the fleeing thief or the knights. The expression he had on his face a short moment before had already vanished, but traces of it still lingered on his face, like a scar. 

You know, you could have gotten into trouble with the way you were talking, Yuri resisted the urge to say. 

Yuri remembered the series of exchanges they had. Whether it was last time or this time, the trigger was the same. Just a single word — ‘Knight’. 

During their match, Yuri had guessed that the reason Flynn, a commoner’s child, was so knowledgeable about swordsmanship, was because he had a knight in his family. And the moment he had voiced that thought, it had triggered intense emotions within Flynn to arise to the surface. 

Relative. Family member. A family member that taught him how to use a sword — his father? 

Yuri didn’t know what it was like to have a father, and because of that, he didn’t know what that meant, or imagine what that felt like. Even so, he could tell that this was an extremely sensitive topic for Flynn. 

Flynn, for his part, didn’t say anything.

Then so be it. Yuri will just pretend he didn’t hear anything. 

“There’s no point just standing around here. Let’s go home.” 

It was an incredibly exhausting day. More than anything else, he wanted to crawl into his bed and fall asleep, before Grandma Jiri or anyone else noticed them up and about. 

The last traces of that intense ‘something’ on Flynn’s face had disappeared. No, rather than disappeared, it was more apt to say it had only sunk below the surface. Either way, he had returned back to his usual calm demeanour. 

With his golden hair swaying, Flynn gave him a small nod, but did not move. Yuri waited patiently. 

As the two boys stayed there on the dark streets, the night regained its silence, and slowly deepened.

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[nessacousland]

My DAO Wardens

For the purposes of my fanfic antics I came up with a warden of every origin besides my canon one and I thought I'd make a post to talk about them (under the cut):

Nessa Cousland

Class: Rogue (Archer)

Specializations: Ranger, Bard

Romance: Alistair

Nessa is my canon warden and as such, the only one with a customized first name. Her personality was shaped by my desire to play a rogue with max persuasion, max sarcasm and a highly chaotic streak. She charms and lies whenever she has something to gain by doing so, but if there isn't, she's the infamous Cousland spitfire who doesn't mince words. In her mind, she's always striving to do the 'right' thing, but she's never subscribed to the idea that losing honorably is better than winning through deceit and she's loyal only to those she loves or believes it's her duty to protect. While competent, she tends to overestimate herself, which results in dumbass decisions like waking a sleeping High Dragon on purpose or trying to be an edgy teen towards her 'sinking Orlesian warships at age 15' mother.

The loss of her family messed her up badly, not in the least because deep down she's always considered herself the worst of them due to her caustic personality, but she clings to life out of pure spite. She deeply resents having been conscripted into the Wardens and though she takes her duty to end the Blight seriously, especially after the Deep Roads, she never fully lets go of that resentment. That's what makes it so easy to manipulate the Landsmeet into letting her rule at Alistair's side - they thought the Couslands were gone and forgotten, but they were wrong. Whether that outcome is what's best for both Ferelden and herself is rather questionable, but at least her feelings for the new king are genuine and she's made some true (and powerful) friends in her companions. Anyone who tries to cross the ones she loves again is going to regret it.

(I drew her surrounded by a wreath of laurels, of course, the symbol of the Cousland family. The armor is based on a piece of concept art of Fereldan armor, though I couldn't resist adding the tacky DAO leather collar. Appearance-wise she's supposed to have dark hair similar to Fergus' and light blue eyes like Bryce).

In my modern AU where she doesn’t live through the massacre of her entire family at age 19, Nessa is considerably more mellow, though still sarcastic, chaotic and a little too full of herself. She meets Alistair at a posh party he's been dragged to in order to spend 'quality time' with Maric and Cailan (I don’t imagine the whole 'bastard' thing to be as egregious in modern Thedas, though he might still be treated as an open 'dirty' secret). They're both bored and thus promptly get into trouble. The rest is history, I guess.

Neria Surana

Class: Mage (mostly Primal and Spirit magic)

Specializations: Spirit Healer, Battlemage

Romance: Solona Amell (past), none in DAO

Ironically, Neria is the warden I've written about the most as she features relatively often in my Ariane/Finn fanfics, even though I've never done a full Surana playthrough. She's also the only other potential warden besides my Cousland who's alive in my canon world state.

She grew up as an orphan in Denerim's Alienage and was taken to the Circle at age nine. Wary of any humans coming to take an elf, she struggled against the templars and ended up being beaten and bruised. After she was handed over, an Enchanter healed her immediately and to Neria, it was the first act of kindness she had received in a long time. Overwhelmed by a place that gave her a roof above her head, regular mealtimes and a bed to sleep in, she grew terrified of being thrown back to the gutter. Therefore, she pursued her studies with an almost aggressive vigor to prove herself. Only the strong survived and she wasn’t going to be weak like so many of the other mages around her.

While Neria was a brilliant apprentice, she was also an elf and quickly noticed how the First Enchanter didn't treat her with the same attention as another apprentice of similar talent : Solona Amell. She made it her mission in life to surpass her academic 'nemesis' in every way she could while failing to notice that the rivalry was very one-sided since Amell actually harbored a huge crush on her. Convinced that love was a weakness she couldn't afford, she didn't figure out her own feelings until it was too late: shortly after their Harrowings, Amell was executed for helping her best friend Jowan the blood mage escape the tower. Then the tower was overrun by demons and, bound by blood magic, Neria was helpless to stop any of it. In the aftermath of everything, she fell into a deep depression with only the memory of her 'lost Lenore' to sustain her. It's only when the Mage Rebellion breaks out and Kinloch Hold falls that she finally comes to terms with Amell's death, allowing herself to admit the wrong that was done to mages like them, and starts looking towards the future again.

Since she's never best friends with Jowan in my mind, it's kind of impossible for her to be the Warden herself, but if she was anyway, she'd be the only one of my Wardens to do the Ultimate Sacrifice. Neria has a prickly personality, but she's always on the straight and narrow and would distrust Morrigan's blood magic too much to agree to the Dark Ritual.

(The Ultimate Sacrifice is the reason I chose poppies for her, since those are supposed to represent sacrifice.)

In my modern AU she's allowed to be a lot happier and though the academic rivalry between her and Amell is alive and well (she studies magic theory while Amell does applied magical studies), they're very close to the point where they are basically dating, even if Neria is too stubborn to admit it to herself. Luckily, Amell is very patient. Neria dresses in very dark and spooky clothes to give all the idiots buying into the stereotypical portrayals of mages in the media a reason to be scared, but despite her sharp edges, she's actually the less dangerous one and the one her friends can always rely on.

Solona Amell

Class: Mage (mostly Primal and Entropy magic) Specializations: Blood Mage, Shapeshifter Romance: Neria Surana (past), none in DAO

More than any other of my Wardens, Solona is the 'dead one' in my mind. She's the kind of person who doesn’t do anything in half-measures. She's very curious and helpful to a fault. If there's a problem in her magical research, she won’t rest until she's found a solution. If there is anything she can do to help, she will do it, no matter the cost. That's how she ends up dead in my canon world state, being caught assisting her best friend Jowan escape the Circle. It’s also how she became a blood mage herself - because if there's a tool to grow her powers so she can help others better, how selfish would it be not to use it? (Of course, there's a good measure of less-than-altruistic fascination with the unknown motivating her as well). As such, Solona has her own somewhat unorthodox moral code that has little to do with what the Chantry considers right and proper. Because she's of a very cheerful and sunny disposition, however, few people suspect her insubordination.

(I tried to incorporate some of the Amell heraldry into her frame and chose bloodwort flowers because a) blood association and b) an innocent looking flower hiding a poisonous juice).

In my modern AU she actually gets to live and is rather infamous among the other mage students for her various, dangerous kitchen experiments. Though she's well liked for her friendly nature, people who know them well would much rather deal with all-bark-no-bite-Neria than 'this is going to be totally harmless, I swear' Solona. Outside of Neria's emotional constipation, an underlying reason for their unresolved feelings are their vastly different views on the ethics of blood magic and Solona's tendency to disregard her own well-being vs. Neria's strong self preservation instincts.

Kallian Tabris

Class: Warrior (Two-handed)

Specializations: Champion, Guardian

Romance: none in DAO

The Tabris origin is the only one I've played to completion besides the Cousland one (and I do consider it the best one despite my preference for the latter). Out of all my Wardens, she's fits the image of the classical hero the most. She's brave, determined, outspoken, fiercely loyal, social and outgoing and always tries to do the right thing, even if it's difficult. Keeping her family in her thoughts, she's incredibly resilient in the face of the horrors of the Blight and only ever comes close to breaking when they're suffering.

Kallian cares very much for the elves of the Alienage and their customs; knowing what was expected of her, she wasn't too conflicted about the arranged marriage despite some initial reservations. Her would-be fiance Nelaros trying to save her and dying for it, even though they barely knew each other, moves her deeply and she keeps his ring for the entirety of the game. In the Wardens, especially the Order she builds in Amaranthine, she finds a second family and they reward her goodness and loyalty with their own. Still, she always longs for the family she left behind in Denerim.

(The frame is supposed to be an hommage to the Vhenadahl and I chose gladiolus flowers because they're meant to represent strength of character and moral integrity from what I've seen. She's mixed, based off of Adaia's and Cyrion's appearances in game and a redhead, because that seems to run in Cyrion's family).

In my modern AU she was successful in protecting Shianni before anything could happen to her, but was badly injured for it. She didn't dare go to a hospital for fear the humans would pin the whole thing on her and get her arrested. Unfortunately, since she was never healed properly, she developed debilitating chronic pains. Nelaros, who she'd met only shortly beforehand, wasn't scared off and stood by her the entire time instead, which is how she fell in love with him. Through mutual friends, she eventually made the acquaintance of Neria and Solona, who managed to heal her with magic (with a wee bit of blood magic thrown in there). In this universe, she finally gets to have a happy wedding instead of the nightmare in DAO. She moves with Nelaros to Highever afterwards, where she starts promoting elven interests the way her cousin Shianni does in Denerim and teaches elven kids self-defense.

Theron Mahariel

Class: Warrior (Archer)

Specializations: Champion, Spirit Warrior

Romance: Zevran

Theron is a calm and patient individual, who thinks very carefully before acting or speaking. As such, they may appear to be silent or even stoic, but they feel things deeply and suffer for a long time when they believe they've failed someone else. They're rather spiritual, which is how they become a Spirit Warrior later on, and very secure in their convictions, but they're not quick to pass judgement on others. In fact, they see the tragic tale of their parents, the star-crossed lovers, as proof that one shouldn't blindly parrot and perpetuate the disapproval of others. As such, they're very open-minded and compassionate, as well as comfortable to be a little flexible with their morals if it ultimately leads to what they deem a better outcome.

Tamlen's death hits Theron very hard, as does the revelation that the Sabrae clan left Ferelden while they were still rebuilding the Order in Amaranthine. It does make it easier to decide to leave with Zevran once they've convinced themselves that the Wardens will be alright, however.

(I chose yellow orchids for them because they're meant to represent friendship and new beginnings. Their armor and hair are based on various Dalish concept art I've seen, while the scarf is meant to be reminiscent of Merrill.)

In my modern AU Tamlen died on a hunting accident while out with Theron and the latter blamed themselves to the point of running away from their clan, eventually ending at the university in Denerim. After a year of trying to forget the past, they transfer to Antiva. Meeting Zevran and realizing how the past has shaped the man they love, they eventually decide to stop running away from themselves and reconnect with their clan. As a nice, open-minded person, they have friends in many different Dalish clans.

Faren Brosca

Class: Rogue (Dual wielding) Specializations: Dualist, Legionnaire Scout Romance: Leliana

Mahariel, Brosca and Aeducan have all first been conceived in my mind as characters in my modern AU and it shows, I'm afraid. In canon, I imagine Faren as a shrewd, but loveable rogue who's always done his best to put on a positive and optimistic face for his sister despite the abuse from their mother and their desperate circumstances. Coming to the surface world is overwhelming at first, but also incredibly gratifying and eye-opening. As someone who was born face-down in the dirt, he has a great appreciation for finding beauty wherever he can and soaks up all the knowledge he's never been given before. As such, he's happy to listen to Leliana's songs and stories for hours on end (and feels like a goddamn hero for getting her that nug as thanks for all her pretty words, even if he's still not sure why she'd want it if she's not gonna eat it). Of course, he's been Carta for most his life, so he understands the underlying darkness in their characters that she's still grappling with. That's also why the encounter with Leske on his return to Orzammar saddens and disappoints him, but doesn't make him lose sleep for long.

(I opted for bioluminescent mushrooms for him, because unexpected beauty in the darkest of places? His appearance is based off of his sister Rica.)

In my modern AU Faren has done plenty of jobs for shady organizations in and outside of Orzammar, but decided to clean up his act a few years ago. He runs martial competitions that, while underground, are mostly legal and adhere to proper rules. He's often doing business in Denerim and unhappily in love with Leliana, who works as a bar tender/singer in a bar in town (as a cover) and is still in a toxic on-and off again relationship with Marjolaine. In their off-times, she sometimes seeks him out, only to break his heart again by getting back with Marjolaine soon after. When she reaches her breaking point and leaves to find peace and quiet at a Chantry, he lets her know that he's there if she needs a friend to come to terms with her life of crime, having gone through the cleanup himself before. Some years down the road, things may look up for them.

Durin Aeducan

Class: Warrior (Sword and Shield) Specializations: Berserker, Reaver Romance: Morrigan

Durin is the most 'character I've never played' out of all of them. I imagine him as proud (to the point of arrogance) and conniving, but loyal to his house and his family, which ends up being his Achilles' heel. He's used to only the finest things in life and being catered to: as such the shame of exile is hard to bear and he doesn't learn to tolerate the surface for a very long time. Ruthless and driven, he doesn't waste any time with cries for help from the unwashed masses, doing nothing but whatever gets him closer to his goal of ending the Blight. He sees through Morrigan's flirtations from the very beginning, but is willing to play her game for the thrill of coming out on top (of course, in a way, they both end up losing once actual feelings come into play). He does care about the wellbeing of Orzammar and believes so strongly in the Aeducan line that he favors his backstabbing brother over the lord who helped him - displaying a shocking lack of scruples and morals in the eyes of Harrowmont's supporters, but to his mind, it all makes sense.

(I chose parts of the Aeducan heraldry for his frame and deathcap mushrooms to surround him - I don't think they grow underground, but they're very poisonous mushrooms which I found apt. I tried to make him look similar to his brothers.)

He never appears directly in my modern AU, but he's still a prince of Orzammar who used to be in a relationship with Morrigan. She broke it off when things got too real and moved on to Orlais, unbeknownst to him. He's currently hired Zevran to track her down.

[theology101]

Family Tree of the Divine in my DnD Campaign - Forgotten Realms/Greyhawk hybrid

So I started DnD with the Greyhawk setting. It’s a dark, depressing setting of beings of good fighting against the oncoming, overwhelming dark. It’s fun, but as time has gone by it has been surpassed by its younger cousin, Forgotten Realms. Both are still around, though - Mordenkanian is from Oerth, not Faerûn, same with Vecna. For my campaign, here is my Lore and Family tree

Ao the Everything

Ao the Everything simply was. Then They had a thought - and that thought was Ioun. The Goddess of Thought and Memory was born, and Ao saw something that both was Them, and wasn’t Them - a part of the collective, yet independent. And when They had finished that thought, the concept of something ending came into existence, and with it Jergal, the God of Death and Endings.

The three set about the idea of making, and every time Ao had thought of a new concept, the concept had come into being too, and with it a God. To track who came and when, Time was created and so was Amauanator. Earth and Fire came next, then water and air. And on and on and on it went. And when it was done, the planet had been formed, the universal order had been set, and the original pantheon was born.

Ao the Everything: God of Creation

Ioun: Goddess of Creativity, Thought, and Memory

Jergal: God of Death and Ending

Amauanator: God of Time and Divisions

Akadi, Queen of Winds: Goddess of the Air

Kossuth, King of Flame: God of Fire

Grumbar, Margrave of Stone: God of Earth

Istishia, Lady of Seas: Goddess of Water

Melora, the Wildmother: Goddess of Life

Avandra: Goddess of Change and Luck

Etherdock, the Endless Shadow: God of the Dark

Targus: God of Conflict

Sune: Goddess of Passion

Together, the original twelve built reality. The Sovereigns of Materials fashioned of themselves places where all was them, as Ao had, and tried to split off themselves and coallesce as new beings, without success. The result was, in the center of the four, a mess of their elements, combining and recombining into a number of half-formed shapes - without Ao, nothing new could be made beyond what it was. The remaining eight were set to work by their Creator, fashioning the core of the Elemental Chaos into the Material Plane, named after the beings it was forged of, the Four Elemental gods of Material.

But the Chaos was peaking through, piercing the Prime Material Plane, turning the carefully sculpted hills and seas into hellscapes and arid wastelands. To protect their creation, another realm was made, surrounding the Prime Material. It was Avandra who decided that there would be no set shape to this realm, and things would be free to change and alter - a fluid, chaotic realm, to protect their solid one.

But the Gods had grown upset with Ao. They had formed their creations, and they were proud of them. Yet they sat their, lifeless and inanimate. Jealous of Ao’s power, Targus was able to rile up his siblings to form a coalition, one which went to their creator and asked for the ability to create themselves. Ao, who had grown fond of the many differences and contradictions within Themselves, asked Ioun for her council - for she and Jergal alone of the Twelve refused to join the coalition.

“To grant us this gift is a gift that can never be undone,” she told the Everything. “We will be able to make alone, or with each other. In the dark, in conspiracy. But it would also grant us joy - as you felt when creating Us. And in our independance, we may hope to give you more joy with our creations too. For when, in all that Amauanator has chronicled, have you ever been surprised?”

Swayed by the Goddess, Ao took a raw piece of the Soverigns and made of it a Tablet, and transcribed Their power within it. And like that, the Era of the Making was finished, and the Age of Divinity began.

Amaunator went to Kossuth and together helped each other make children. Amauanator borrowed of Kossuth’s flame, and set it in the void surrounding the Material Plane, and delegated the keeping of Time to his son, the God of the Sun, Pelor. Kossuth, on the other hand, had Amauantor count faster over a divine flame, and when he did the flame grew hotter and hotter until it became Bazim-Gorag, the Firebringer.

Melora set about seeding the Material Plane with life, crafting from the clay the Beasts of the Field, Sea and Sky. But also beyond, creating Flora and Fauna that could exist in the Chaotic Fluid Plane and the Elemental ones. And it was in the fluid plane that she begat a son, Correllon the Archheart, to watch over this chaotic intermingling realm. In the Prime Material Realm, she begat a daughter named Chauntea, Goddess of Planet Life. Yet still, she felt the planeness of it all, the lack of drive in her Life. The stationarity.

With Pelor’s flame now visible to all on the Prime Material plane, Etherdock began to tire. And so he took upon a shape more pleasing to Pelor’s liking, and the two (bound by Sune’s magic) spawned their daughters, Selûne, the Goddess of Light, and Shar, Goddess of Darkness. Selûne, who loved their father Pelor, helped him in keeping time and spreading Light, forming the Moon. Shar helped as well, but was far too independent to be locked in a celestial body, became the Night, staying away from her father. But then Targus began to poke and prod at the Twin Sisters, eventually erupting into conflict between the two.

From that conflict was the first war, Light fighting Darkness. And from that war came Tempus, it’s god and Targus’ son. The war grew violent, tumultuous, almost as bad as before the Fluid Plane was made. So much so that their fathers intervened and Pelor took on the shape of a warrior before warriors had meaning. When Pelor was in the Sky, Light would reign supreme, but when Etherdock had taken his place, Darkness would. Yet regardless of which god’s influence was dominant, the Twins would be forced to suffer the others pressence. The war did not end, Shar and Selûne would simply not be the ones to fight it. And so, they made proxy servants of lesser strength to fight for them.

Ioun had watched the chaos of the Light and Dark war, and watched as it cluttered and crowded her webs of fate. Destiny had grown chaotic, and she grew concerned. So, she split off a part of herself to help focus the strands, to Weave them into something manageable, something usable. This split was named Mystryl, and she was the Goddess of Magic.

Targus wished to participate, and with Sune’s help, he was able to woo Melora. In their lovemaking, they had several children: Gruumsh the Ravenous, Malor the Feral Lord, Meiliki the Forest Maiden, Lurue of the Talking Beasts, and Silvanus the Treefather. Malar and Lurue set about shaping more animals for their mother, while Melikki and Silvanus set about giving the animals a place to live. Gruumsh gave all these beings hunger, a need to eat and consume. In this way, Gruumsh encourages the creations to make way for new life to grow by consuming the old, Targus watching the conflicts as animals competed and evolved against and with one another.

Emerging from the Elemental Chaos with no clear creator was Talos, the god of elemental destruction. Grumbar and Kossuth, following Targus and Melora’s coupling, bred together twins of molten rock and stone, and they were the craftsman Gond and Moradin. Akadi and Ishtisha, begat twins of their own; Auril, the Iceheart, goddess of winter, and Kord, god of storm’s and strength. Avandra, watching as their family grew larger and larger, figured it was time she had children too - Tymora, Good Luck, and Besheba, Bad Luck. Both were set loose to inflict chaos.

Much in Sune’s confidences, Mystryl grew fascinated with Pelor. Unlike the other gods, who mostly were content with their sphere’s of influence, Pelor was ambitious, restless. He had turned from simply the Timekeeper to the God around which the whole plane revolved around, literally. He was a fire god now, a war god too (Forced to break up Shar and Selûne’s fights as he was) as well as his role as the literal Sun. Mystryl liked that ambition, and so she approached him, and together they had a son, and his name was Lathander the Newdawn.

Wishing to have a partner, Corellon asked Avandra to make him a wife. And that she did, and she was beautiful and dark. But Sune did not like the pair, waiting until they had produced the fey and their daughter Sedhaine/Ellistrae, the Dreamweaver before setting her husband Targus upon the pair. Lolth and Corellon started arguing, and that arguing split their children. The Fey did as their gods did, and fought and split into the Unseelie and Seelie courts - receiving patronage from Shar and Selûne respectively. The Fey took on the nature of the Fluid Plane, wild and chaotic with beings and geography shifting and altering at random. Gruumsh inflicted himself upon the Fey in equal measures, feeding into their love of mischief

All was well in the realms until Pelor, Targus, Mystryl and Avandra came up with a scheme. Though they could create new life, new beings, these beings were only aspects of themselves. Parts of them. Though they could become more, as Pelor had, and his and mystryl’s son had after, but they weren’t new. Not fully.

So, Lathander approached Ao the Everything, and asked the venerable Progenitor to teach him how to plant. He took a scythe into the earth, and attempted to use it as though it were a hoe. Amused, Ao the Everything took upon a physical form so that They may show the young god how it was done. They took the seeds from Lathander’s hands, summoned and focussed the winds to part the ground in furrows. Having never taken physical shape before, Ao found the experience enlightening, enjoyable even. So They asked Lathander what ground he wanted parted next, and after that, and so on.

Unbeknowst to Ao the Everything, They were not plowing randomly into the earth. Lathander was there, guiding and requesting as they went, shaping row after row of soon to be plant life, into creating a massive runic symbol. But Mystryl and Shar were able to obscure that from Ao, just as she obscured that Lathander’s seeds were banefully cursed. Each drained some of Ao’s divine power. They could’ve noticed it, perhaps, but Besheba ensured it was the God’s bad luck to never check.

With each seed planted, Ao summoned pure Water. It was then that the trap was launched. Pelor added his own divine flames, and like that - another Tablet had been formed. Made of the raw materials, Ao was tricked into separating off themselves in another covenant. Three of the four prime elements were involved in the phony farming scheme, and when Pelor added his flame the tablet was set.

There, with what was left of Their power, Ao could have smashed thr Tablet, restored to Their full power. But Targus had appeared from behind and restrained him, Mystryl’s magic beginning dissolving the Creator into his raw components as Selûne flooded Their eyes with light and Shar with darkness. The Everything tried what They could, using what was left of Their quickly fading power to strike at Their Betrayers, but Pelor overwhelmed Them with the full Force of the Sun, long enough for Lathander to take his scythe and carved out the Heart of Creation.

Without Their heart, Ao was defensless as Mystryl’s spells finished their work, scattering the Creator to the Elemtenal Chaos. The Creator was dead - but from those seeds that had been planted sprouted the first mortals. The Age of Wonder had begun. Or so they had thought.

Jergal appeared then, the God of Death’s scorn painful to behold, let alone suffer through.

“You arrogant children,” he spat with venom. “You bumbling, foolish and spoiled Children. Dodst thou truly think Ao destroyed? Nay. They art All - to destroy Them is to destroy thyselves, too. Yet, forsooth, we stand. The End of All Things is not yet, but thou have ignited it. And when Ao doth Return, thy’s end will be of your design.”

The new creations were not as great as their previous ones. They were small, and weaker too. But they were free in a way that the Gods never could be. And yet, he who had never created, Jergal was their ultimate master. For all the new creations, inspite of the Gods wishes, were not eternal. They were mortal - and eventually, Jergal came to collect them, spiriting them away to the Astral sea.

They all took a hand in it. Leaving the Feywild, the Fey who longed for a concrete appearance turned into the first elves, orcs and gnomes. From their forge, Gond and Moradin made beings as strong and stout as the steel they worked, imbuing within them the same desire to create that Ao had given all the Gods. The Dwarves, as their machines were called, set about creating too, emulating all the gods who came before in their wish to make. Kord’s lightning struck a mountain and that Mountain became Aman, who began begatting the Giants. Even the Material Soverigns were involved, sculpting from the elements the Genasi.

But from the seeds that Ao had planted came Humans. The accidental creations. The Curse and Seed of Ao. And within each of them was the same unlimited potential of Ao.

Graaumsh and Lolth both chafed under Corellon - though all were Gods of similar power and pedigree, Corellon the Archheart was the Master of both the Fey and Elves, including Gruumsh’s Orcs snd Lolth’s Drow - the Fey to whom were Loyal to them. The Children of Melora erupted into violent war. Corellon, Silvanus, Sedhaine, and Lurue fought Gruumsh and Lolth, snd while Malar attempted to join on their side, his inability to focus made him practically neutral with Melikki. The war between them was long and bloody, only ending when Amauanator deemed that the ‘runt-orcs’ as they were called at the time, were distinct enough from True Orcs that they were a different species entirely. While that did not necessarily mean Gruumsh would lose their allegiance, Targus chose that moment to make the runt-orcs institute a revolt against their True Orc masters. From their collective hatred and rage, the runt orc’s made their own god, Muglibiyet, by worshipping one of Gruumsh’s aspects so hard it became a new being. The sheer shock of the event made all the gods in question put down their arms, at least temporarily.

Humans, with their terribly short lives, started to spread. Slowly, and steadily at first, but accelerating once Mystryl taught the first human magic. All spellcasting prior had been intrinsic, natural, or divine - but now, through conscious effort, spells could be made.

Kingdoms and Empires were forged and destroyed and forged again. Lesser spirits, not quite gods but not mortal either, took to these kingdoms, becoming patrons of certain cities or states. And then, to their shock, the spirits got stronger. Through reverence, the Mortals had imbued psrt of their power into the Spirit. Not much, not anything tangible to them, but built up and in the right hands, these spirits became lesser gods.

This, of course, was part of the Four Traitor’s plan. Through worship, they gained power, yes, but they gained even more when they claimed a Soul. Jergal escorted the souls of the Dead to the Astral Sea, but from there Lathander would steal the ones most loyal to the Betrayers and dole them out accordingly. And soon, Pelor, Mystyl, Targus and Avandra became stronger than any god could’ve imagined. Especially Pelor and Mystryl, both of whom had absorbed what they could from Ao when they destroyed him. Yet it did not change that Death lead to uncertainty and chaos.

See, Ao just vanished, or so the other gods thought. Only those involved, plus Jergal and Ioun, knew what happened to Ao. All thr others could sense, suddenly, that he was gone and they had new abilities. When Mystryl told them that Ao had given himself for them to create, they believed. It was their dark and hidden secret.

Pelor commanded his son to hide the Heart, hide it some where it could never be found. So in the lowest plane he could fine, he made a mountain with nine distinct layers, surrounded it by a River, and put the heart at the bottom. Lathander was given command of the Peak, and granted his friends and colleagues positions all throughout the length of the monument. It was there that Lathander stored and processed souls before granting them to the betrayers.

It wasn’t until a young mortal woman, who’s name has faded from existence, was able to make a spell. She had lost her family in tragedy after calamity, watched with her magical talent as they were split and separate, so the family could not rest in peace. So she made a spell, coalescing all the pieces of Ao she could and binding them to herself. In a moment, the mortal girl had become a Goddess. Cloaked in the rotting and black power of Ao, she flew to the Land of the Dead, beseeching the Lord of the Dead to grant mercy to the dead.

But Jergal could not grant mercy, for he was not the one who was inflicting their torment. He was the God of Death, yes, and he took the Souls when their time had ended, but he did not own the Souls. He did not want to. So he allowed them to do as they wished after he collected them. It mattered not to Jergal if a Mortal’s spirit was locked in Elysium or the Elemental plane of fire. And so, as her domain, she became the Shepherd of Dead, and their judge. When Lathander went to retrieve his harvest from the Astral Sea, he was shocked to find it nearly empty.

The Raven Queen, for she had shed her mortal name, met with God and named him fiend. Souls, all Souls, would go through her before she decided where to take them. Enraged, Lathander took upon a fearsome aspect of red skin, leathern wings, Fangs and several sets of Horns. Wing against wing, claw against talon, the newly made Goddess held firm. Her mastery of magic had only enhanced upon her apotheosis and was able to match the child of the Sun and Magic. For in claiming her mantle, she was granted access to the strings of fate, and with it she learned of the Betrayer 'secret.

The Raven Queen, for she had shed her mortal name, met with God and named him fiend. Souls, all Souls, would go through her before she decided where to take them. Enraged, Lathander took upon a fearsome aspect of red skin, leathern wings, Fangs and several sets of Horns. Wing against wing, claw against talon, the newly made Goddess held firm. Her mastery of magic had only enhanced upon her apotheosis and was able to match the child of the Sun and Magic. For in claiming her mantle, she was granted access to the strings of fate, and with it she learned of the Betrayer's secret.

They were gone speaking for a time, and when they were finished, Lathander was smirking. The Betrayers would keep their secrets, and they would receive their souls still. But now, any Mortal who pledged themselves to a God would be escorted by the Raven Queen to the Astral Sea

Several others followed the Raven Queen to Godhood, but with intentions less pure. The Dead Three were mortals who spread Chaos and Death in the realm of Mortals, and eventually they fought their way to Jergal. Instead of a battle, Jergal instead lifted each of them to godhood, allowing them to choose thier own domains. Bane chose Tyranny and Power, Myrkul chose to be master over all the dead, and Bhaal wished to unleash his bloodlust on a scale never dreamt of. But Jergal had tricked them - by taking a divine seat, they were bound by all the laws of Gods and they lost their ability to act without the Divine noticing - and possibly stopping them. Yet, as Custodian of the Dead, Myrkul allowed Necromancers to summon vast hoards of undead, Bhaal and his daughters unleashed plague and suffering en-mass and Bane’s patronage aided the darkest of Despots. And so, Mystryl incarnated in mortal form and guided two mortals to godhood. Cyric, who’s position of strife and chaos would destroy Bane’s kingdoms and shatter the control of Myrkul’s necromancers. Kelemvor, who would be the Judge of the Dead - giving souls their sentences so that they would not be fodder for summoning. But Mystryl had grown wroth at the impetuous mortals who thought they could be Gods - and so she found a Necromancer of phenomenal power known for his hoarding of knowledge and secret. And so, she whispered to him the secrets of Ascension, knowing that he would then wipe out all other sources of that information so that he alone amongst mortals could ascend. And so, Vecna rose as a Divine and went to claim the crown of the dead - only for Mystryl to correct that false assumption. Vecna would be the God of Secrets and a patron of necromancers - but he was still bound to the laws of Magic. Mystryl’s laws.

Such was the status quo of the Age of Wonder, and for seven thousand years, there was peace. Consistency ruled the heavens and the mortals worshipped as their gods walked the earth. Millions of legends come from this period, where even the most mundane of mortals could sprout an oasis in a desert or incinerate a beast. The greatest of these mages met in the Ivory City of Heaven, meditating on the nature of the Universe and Ao.

For Ao’s name was still known, the Everything was still worshipped. The revered Missing God who had given Themselves to oblivion to allow their mortality - or so the Gods told them, and the Betrayers, Ioun, the Raven Queen and Jergal were not inclined to argue. And so They continued to receive worship and, like all other deities, They received power from it.

And in the Elemental Chaos, They took form.

The Doom would come from Karsus, the greatest living Wizard and Emperor of Netheril. His home city, Nether, had been a piss water port on the coast of the great inland sea. When Karsus was a boy, the town was besieged by a dragon. Karsus, only a child, ripped a hole into Baator’s second level, stole several hundred of Mephistopheles servants, dominated them and tore the dragon to shreds. Over the next several hundred years of his life, he acquired magic and power unseen since the ascension of the Raven Queen, helped along by Mephistopheles, who had become fond of the mortal.

Karsus learned of the ritual that the Raven Queen had attempted, but Karsus wanted more. Made of Pure Earth, forged in the flames of the Fire Plane, quenched in the Sea of the Water Plane, and carved by the True Wind of plane of Air - Karsus forged his terrible artifact. The Crown of Karsus, a twisted mockery of a Tablet. And through that, he tried to ascend. He called all the fragments of Ao to himself that he could. And for just a single instant, Karsus was everything. And then he felt himself be carbed off and seperated, madness fracturing him as Ao had, the history of everything filling and breaking his mind until the spell was complete.

Karsus was gone, and emerging around a cold void was Tharizdum. All of Ao’s hate and anger and rage - all They had left - in an all consuming storm of a god. Tharizdum was Ao’s vengence, and It was set on consuming all that there was, returning everything to Itself so that It could never be betrayed by Its children again.

In Baator, the Heart burst itself, forming a pit of unending depth, and from each layer would step the Demons. Robbed of his ability to make true life, all Tharizdum could do was pour Itself into these beings, and their infinite numbers all hated as much as It did. They, too, entered the Primer Material, tearing through the Abyss and in to aid their father by punishing all the little mortals.

Corellon and his allies took themselves to the Feywilds, using the Chaos of the realm to their advantage as they battled Demons. Gruumsh, seeing the opportunity to finally claim his brother’s crown, betrayed the Fey by opening a portal to the Abyss within the valley that divided Seelie and Unseelie. Orcus, Exarch of Gruumsh and his demi-god son, had no idea about his father’s betrayal, and flew to do battle with Zehir, the Cloaked Corrupter. The Serpent God bit Orcus, injecting into him the pure Abyss. Orcus was twisted by the venom, his traits exagersted into a monstrous mockery of an already wicked god. While this was happening, Gruumsh had dueled Corellon for the crown once again, freezing only when he saw his son turned into a Demon. Corellon used the moment of weakness to stab Gruumsh through the eye, and banishing him and hid followers from the Feywilds. Yet it was too late - Zehir was already here, and was now aided by Orcus the Necromancer.

Grumbar, Margrave of Stone, lumbered into the Prime Materiel and did battle with Tharizdum. The massive Earth titan collided with a storm of chaos and raw creation, fists the size of islands cracking against It. But Tharizdum did not stumble, did not break, and began shredding the Fourthborn. All the while, Demons feasted and rampaged through the country sides. The Gods were deafened by unanswered prayers. And then Grumbar was pierced clean through the chest.

It was then, rising with the morning sun, that Pelor charged into the fray with his heavenly host, while in the west, Lathander rose, a dark reflection of his father, with an army of his Devils and mounted upon the Ember Phoenix. Father and Son baited and pulled Tharizdum with them, granting Grumbar some reprieve before he was set upon by Torog.

Coming to rescue their brother, the remaining Material Sovereigns emerged to do battle with demon lords. They were, however, too late for Grumbar. In his weakness and before aid could arrive, the Crawling King burrowed into the Titan’s flesh, carving out tunnels and opening tears into other planes. It was too much for the Earth titan, and he collapsed into the inland sea, making the Hollow Hills.

Ioun had seen the murder of Ao by her daughter and grandson, yet had stayed silent. Mum. If Ao were to return, Ioun would serve Them again, and gladly. But Tharizdum had none of Ao’s mercy or creativity - simply a drive to end everything.

And so, Ioun did what she did best - think. Tharizdum could not be destroyed, nor could It be overpowered with strength. And so, Ioun told Mystryl and Pelor how to defeat Tharizdum - bind him.

While Lathander and Pelor dueled the Storm, Ioun was carving a third tablet - a true tablet, unlike Karsus’ abomination. Gond and Moradin forged manacles of adamantine, enchanted to stay solid even against the Chaos of the Void.

Pelor, using all his strength and power, struck at the God, and the impact shattered the land and broke the mountain. It was only due to the bravery and skill of the maid Mahthillidis that the city Lagharic survived the blast, as every other structure, from mountains to forest, were scorched snd blasted away from the blow. Weakened temporarily, Mystryl used the Weave to ensnare Tharizdum, Kord pulling hard on the Weave as he held It down. Ioun chanted as Lathander bound him in Adamntine Manacles and Mystryl fought to cage all that he was. With Its final, angry strike, Tharizdum slew Mystryl and in that moment, all Magic died too. Tears of flame dowm his cheek, Lathander rode Desirat straight to the Hells, dragging the Chained God behind him. It was only when Baator Mountain pierced through Tharizdum like a lance, shattering what was left of It’s mind. Where he had hidden the Heart was now the opening of the Abyss, and so Lathander reclaimed the Heart and chucked Tharizdum into the Abyss.

Without Tharizdum opening rifts and forging demon lords out of the environment and things around It, the rallied and inspired Gods were able to banish the last of the demons, but with great loss.

Besides Mystryl, hundreds of spirits and lesser gods were killed or corrupted into demons, and Targus simply vanished. The second the Abyss opened, Targus brandished his war axe and rode his bull mount down, never to be heard from again. That was not Mystryl’s fate.

The Web of Fate and souls needed to be replaced, and Mystryl had prepared for the posdibility of her death. She seperated some of her divine spark and entrusted it to the Raven Queen. When the dust cleared and all was well, the Raven Queen released that spark. Soon, it grew, and then Ioun was with it, teaching it. And then Mystra was born, and she set about restoring the Weave.

Lathander, bloody and injured and mourning his lost mother, took refuge in his holy city, Lagharic. He had expected ruins but when it was in one piece and he learned a Mortal woman was responsible for its safekeeping, he went to her. He granted her a Crown of Infernal Iron and named her as Queen and Mother of his people. For those who had been in the blast radius of Pelor’s strike and survived, they were forever altered. They adopted the form that Lathander had - horned and barb tailed - or they had residue of the divine glow in their skin. They were a people apart now, changed. And Mathildis and her son with Lathander, who had taken upon the name Asmodeus, Gerald would start a dynasty that would last for over a thousand years

[kirbyofthestars]

reposting my crusty old hcs about patchland lore tm to cleanse the kirby tag :>

🌸 Purple is a lucky colour. It’s associated with royalty, creativity, magic and good fortune.

🌸 Food forests are more or less a fact of life - they’re pretty much everywhere, and they’re 100% free for you to help yourself & pick from as you please.

🌸 What grows (or simply Is There, in certain cases) depending on which region you’re in - apple orchards and sweet berry bushes in Grass Land, prickly pears and chia sage in Hot Land, marshmallow strawberries and butterscotch sap in Treat Land, etc.

🌸 You are not too good for foraging for food. The Literal Actual Prince Himself is not too good for foraging for food.

🌸 Beads as currency in Patchland are specifically cut and minted for that purpose - in other words, you can’t just bring in any old perlers and try to use it to pay for stuff or you’ll get laughed at. It’d be like trying to buy groceries with a sheet of notebook paper that has “twenty dollar bill” written on it.

🌸 They’re often strung together on loops or straight ropes of twine tied at both ends, kind of like Qing Dynasty coins, for easier carrying and transport.

🌸 The Bonus Bells are hung everywhere outdoors, especially outside shops and other places where people tend to gather, because it’s believed that the chiming sound drives devils away. Also, the prince thinks they’re pretty neat.

🌸 Angie is viewed as a lot of things, but namely as a good omen and a patron spirit of travellers. Adventurers often leave offerings out for her as thanks for keeping an eye out for her on their journeys, and in areas that receive a lot of travel, it’s common to build perches for her to rest on.

🌸 One way yarnfolk show off a personal sense of style is by changing their eyes, literally speaking. Buttons, painted beads, emboidered patches, glass doll eyes, etc. It’s some Coraline / Skin Theory / etc. shit.

🌸 Often the process is done at home by hand or paid for by an artist, kind of like a tattoo parlor. In either case it involves crafting and enchanting them with the sympathetic magic necessary for them to see, blink, cry, etc.

🌸 In rural areas outside of Space Land, stogue magic is often used as a clean, efficient source of light and energy to give places and things a pretty glow.

🌸 Fangora’s draconic hoard is made up of handmade goods and crafts - paintings, origami cranes, knitted sweaters, pony bracelets, and so forth.

🌸 Every year in late spring, there’s a festival where inhabitants of Grass Land and surrounding areas to present offerings of this ilk as thanks for doing his job as a Guardian / minding his own business and not slaughtering them all. Dude may be a grumpy old bastard, but he does genuinely appreciate it.

🌸 Stardust hourglasses are more common than you might think! The craft originates in Hot Land. They’re made in a bunch of different colours and designs and serve as popular gifts for tourists and locals alike, for good reason.

🌸 Some are more precise than others, but either way they’re very pretty and sparkly things to display in one’s home or study.

🌸 Although most people would be inclined to look towards more obvious places (cough), Space Land is a hidden gem when it comes to local sweets.

🌸 Star candy are taffy lollipops with layers of different flavours and a temperature that’s pleasantly hot no matter how they’re stored. Saturn donuts are fluffy, cakey fried dough — made with vanilla and nutmeg, cooked in an infrared-wave radiant fryer and served with popping candy and star-shaped sprinkles on top. Both are local delicacies.

🌸 Embroidery runes! They’re a Thing. Magical sigils are stitched onto certain (often special) objects for a variety of reasons, such as warding, protection, good luck, and so on. Fluff’s whip in particular has symbols for ‘steady’, ‘grace’, and ‘strike true’, sewn near the base in gold thread.

[takiisieju]

I swear I will eventually return to my serious projects, but these are too fun. Also if you ever tag me in anything OC-related (which you never do), I will consider it to be about these girls.

Quiz: how is your soul perceived? by hleneedh Maker: Casual Icon Maker

Putting this under cut so that people that don't want to see it don't have to

CAMILLA CAROTA: the gentle romantic

your soul longs for connection. sometimes you think you fall a little bit in love with strangers every day. heart shaped candies and sorrowful poetry delight you in ways you wish you could explain. you stare out the window when it rains and pretend you're living all the lives of the beautiful people on tv. your love will find you one day. they're out there slaying their dragons and one day you'll get to wipe the blood from their brow and they'll look at you like you hung the stars. until then you'll learn to love yourself a little better each day.

Carota is always a bit of an enigma to me, she is so aloof... The quiz really helped me get her feelings better and I think it is pretty precise. Especially in that she kinda waits for a better life to find her, taking solace in her duties until then.

PAULETTA PERA: the protecting nurturer

you have the heart that belongs to a warrior's mother. you ache for your loved ones and you'll fight to preserve their smiles. you take care of the people around you. you want them to feel safe and warm. you do anything to protect those around you, even if it's from themselves. you have an eye for the details no one else realizes they need. you're the one that makes a house a home. you make sure it's safe because you know what it was like to be afraid of the places that should have been comforting.

Pera is... well, a tsundere is a good enough word, lol But it comes from a place of fear and distrust. And once she trusts people, she becomes distrustful of their surroundings, trying to protect them instead.

ANNA ANGURIA: the kindred spirit

your soul is like a mirror for others to find their own beauty. you see the best in people and you strive to bring it out in them. you draw all sorts of people to yourself and you make them feel seen. but who sees you? you try so hard to take care of everyone else, watering everyone else's garden until there's nothing left for your own flowers. when will you fight for your own heart as strongly as you try to nurture others?

Anna is very much defined by her fears and insecurities. But aside from them, she is an incredibly kind and empathetic woman. Kinda gave up on herself after her injury, trying to uplift others instead, seeing it as the only thing she can do now.

MARIA MORA: the steadfast

your soul is filled with the strength of one who has watched too many break before them. you set high standards for yourself and those around you, sometimes impossible marks. you know how the world should be and you're determined to make it so. was tough love what you needed? or was it the only thing you were ever offered. there are some things you cannot bend to your will and your bones will break before you turn back the tide. let go a little and breathe in the air. have you even stopped to look at the empire you built? have you noticed how far you've come?

Mora came to Polpo to give up her responsibility on her own life. Only to take responsibility on everybody else's, because having a ton of responsibilities is the only thing she knows. And she does have a tendency to not notice how hard she works, seeing it as normal. Good thing others now remind her to rest a little.

Despite everything, taglist: @roofgeese @poisonedtruth @theelderhazelnut (this is for all posts, i know you've done these already (the quiz for sure))

everybody and their mother has done this so I have no idea who to tag but @spacestephh and @vivilovespink if you want to join...

[gigilberry]

Dracula DnD AU

So I actually did sit and come up with DnD classes for Lucy & her polycule however bear in mind that a) I'm a first time Dracula reader so for all I know maybe some characterisation/information changes later idk, and b) the most I know about DnD comes from tiktok skit compilations on youtube & occasionally listening to dnd podcasts so EXTENSIVE creative liberties up ahead:

Lucy Westenra

She's a race of human shaped cat creatures, since I love cats and I love Lucy I combined my two favorite things and she looks like this:

(Idk if it can be seen but she's somewhat chubby and it's not plot relevant but I want you to know it's there)

As in canon her family's part of the gentry, though not the nobility, and she was very sheltered growing up. What's different is that for her community polygamy is favored and seen in a good light - cats are communal raisers and also Lucy wanted polygamy so she gets polygamy.

Lucy is a warlock and what happened was this: her deity takes the form of a scrungly little goblin creature, and more than anything what it really wants is to be loved. One day teenage Lucy found them crying in the bushes and was like "Who are you?? Are you okay??? 🥺" and the deity was so surprised she wasn't repulsed by them that they instantly befriended her and got an idea. In exchange for them giving Lucy protection and powers, Lucy will gather the affections of people and it'll get siphoned to them.

It works something like how it does in the anime Sugar Sugar Rune, where whoever it is that takes a shine to Lucy has their momentary feelings absorbed into a small jewelry on her person, and this doesn't hurt them, alter their personalities, or make their memories/feelings vanish.

The deity receives the affection that Lucy gets and in exchange Lucy has strong persuasion, luck, and invisible protections that aid and guide her to safety, plus she also receives little gifts from her deity like trinkets and useful & pretty little items. To other people Lucy appears as someone with a melodious voice, a sweet and gentle smile, having an aroma of honeysuckle and lavender, and accompanied by the sound of bells from charm bracelets on her wrists and bells on her ankles.

The relationship between her and her deity is like the flip side of the sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic I've seen described for this class. Every time they meet Lucy goes "Who's a good puppy?? You are!!!! :D" and gives them pets and they become a happy, adoring puddle at her feet, it's very silly and cute.

Arthur Holmwood

The thing about Arthur is that he's surrounded by so much death, so as an exchange or comfort or running with the theme of it I made him a Witch Lord. That is, his family has magic running through them, most likely through an otherworldly ancestry, and because he's a Lord this means he has responsibilities that someone of the nobility would - responsibility towards the protection and safekeeping of a peoples, territory, and dominion.

His family's responsibility is towards aiding lost souls and guarding the boundaries between death and life. And because this is Arthur "Get Shit Done" Holmswood this man has connections. He has wealth, power, influence, and an extensive network of resources and contacts. He can call upon those souls that linger and so long as he does his duties and pays respects then they will give him information and guidance.

Lucy's race being cat adjacent, they are more than capable of seeing and interacting with the dead and hold a lot of respect for witches. So by her people's standards, Arthur is A Catch. As far as appearances go, he looks mostly human though there's something just a little otherworldly about his features but it's hard to put a finger on what. Some of the more obvious ones are that he has night vision and glows faintly in the dark.

Quincy P. Morris

Quincy multiclasses in Ranger and Barbarian I feel like there's a joke in that one. He's traveled to many places and been on many incredible adventures, and has collected allies and knowledge alike. Analytical, perceptive, a man of action but also very noble and kind, Quincy is a fighter and a thinker possessing skills, stats, and charisma across the board. Were it not for him having little to no magical ability he would've been very much OP but I'm trying to curb my obvious favoritism here

John (Jack) Seward

He's a half-dragonborn wizard, and despite having dragon features he's still as much of a soggy wet paper bag man as canon. Being draconic gives him strength that can match up to Quincy if he wanted, though he prefers to rely more on his studies. He tries his best to keep up a somewhat tidy appearance but is usually impeded by frequently molting scales, askew glasses, and a generally sleep deprived and frumpy disposition.

Mina Harker

Mina is a dark elf and also a witch. Unlike Arthur's lordly upbringing, witchcraft was something she took pains to learn, what with her being an orphan and all. She teaches magic to students and is as much a lover of the dark and creepy crawlies and things that go bump in the night as any elf born amongst them.

In appearance, Mina is a tall and politely intimidating but otherwise neatly put together elf woman. She feels most at home in dark forests and chats with the supernatural on the regular. Her being a witch also means her and Lucy were encouraged to be besties from the get go.

Jonathan Harker

A regular ol' human and perhaps even a solicitor here too. Just like in canon he shows a deep well of strength of character in this au, and being a human of not much special abilities doesn't stop him from being courageous, determined, loyal, and deeply kind. He's the Connecticut Clark to his big, scary, amazing Goth wife and he's got a warm, sunshiney nature that's so in line with Lucy's that the rest of the polycule loves him just as much. He's always ready to help and protect and fight for those he loves.

And if you want an angstier angle, he can have some qualities of the supernatural lurking underneath the surface - a pallor to his skin, slightly elongated teeth, a taste for meats, being drawn to darker magics, etc - after a terrifying run in within the forests.

As for Van Helsing of the alphabet soup degrees, I feel like similar to canon he'd be a mysterious figure of sorts, but giving off the air of a sorcerer or monk. He's a scholar, a potioneer, an artificer, and many, many more that most don't come to know. He plays the role of the polycule's favorite uncle who occasionally drops by to send them all careening off on an adventure.

[eievuimultimuse]

VERSE 003. STOCKMAN FLY.  /  VERSE 006. ANDROID FROM TCRI.

NOTE: ‘Android from TCRI’ doubles as a general MM-based verse, especially for verses where Baxter lives. However, its original purpose is intertwined with ‘Stockman Fly,’ hence why it’s listed here.

➤ Based on the MM storyboards where Baxter had the ability to turn into a fly mutant. Draws inspiration from the Anthony Warlow version of Jekyll and Hyde.

➤ Dr. Baxter Stockman and Dr. Ezekiel “Z” Xavier are the top scientists working at TCRI. The two aren’t particularly close as they’re both busy with their respective work, but Z’s often done small favours for Baxter  ( unbeknownst to him )  and the two have talked in the past. As per Mut.ant May.hem events, Baxter experiments with the ooze for a military project only to steal the eight animal embryos with the intention of raising a family after having a moral crisis and growing attached. However, he narrowly avoids capture at the hands of TCRI when they happen to break into the house next to the one he’s hiding in, allowing him the opportunity to escape  ( accidentally knocking a canister of ooze into the drain in the process ). Unknown to him, this was orchestrated by Z, who — after learning that TCRI was planning to raid him — skewed the address to allow him to escape, thus sabotaging the raid.

➤ Baxter would flee to the abandoned shipyard on Staten Island, where he’d hide with his children and build and adapt to a new life. They’d wind up living there peacefully for the next decade and a bit, never venturing out into the outside world. For the first time ever, Baxter was not only content but happy. For the first time, it felt like things were finally going right.

➤ When Baxter wasn’t paying attention, the Stockman mutants — curious about the outside world — decided to travel into the city. Just like in canon, they were received…poorly, to put it lightly. Consequently, Leatherhead wound up seriously wounding a man who attempted to strike them with a weapon. Baxter learned about this only after the fact, which horrified and saddened him. The incident served as a cold reality check; it was at this point that Baxter recognized that his children would never be truly free nor happy so long as the world was as cruel and intolerant as it was.

➤ Enraged and determined, Baxter would soon formulate a ‘solution’ to the problem: TURN EVERY HUMAN INTO A MUTANT. One of those ‘if everyone’s special, no one is’ sorts of deals — if every person was a mutant, then his children would no longer be outcasts. Before he could even begin to plan a way to execute that, however, he first needed to experiment on the ooze to test its effect on humans…and what better and more willing of a subject was there other than HIMSELF.

➤ Baxter’s first ever transformation into a fly mutant was — while thankfully not painful — STRENUOUS, to say the least. Yet, at the same time, he felt a feeling of EXHILARATION and POWER, which was once completely foreign to him. He wound up taking to this new shape quite well. Needless to say, his experiment was a SUCCESS. Shortly after, he’d developed an anti-mutagen to allow himself to revert back to a human form  ( for convenience sake, mostly ). He’d then go on to carefully plan how to achieve his plan, all while learning how to make the most efficient use of his new abilities that came with his fly form.

➤ ( As a side note: a lot of Baxter’s feelings of power come from the feeling that he can better PROTECT his children in this form. As one might expect, he suffers a lot of guilt surrounding the incident mentioned earlier, not just because he wasn’t there to help them, but also because he knows he would not have been able to physically defend them. This is a feeling that motivates many of Baxter’s actions in this verse, thus it’s worth mentioning. )

➤ Baxter would not only determine that the best means to distribute the ooze would be by a machine, but also that the best supplier for these parts were through TCRI. With a newfound confidence and ambition, Baxter would carefully plan elaborate heists in order to intercept these shipments, often utilizing his ability to shift between mutant and human form to take them by surprise. Over time, he grew more excitable and zealous; this was assumed by his children to be due to him slowly nearing the completion of his plan, but in reality, this was one of the first, more subtle signs of the effect that the ooze was having on him.

➤ Z actually happened to be present during one of these heists, in which they spotted the fly mutant and, thanks to their scanners  ( oh, haven’t I mentioned ?  They’re actually an android disguised as a human. :) ), identified him as Baxter. Though puzzled by this, Z manages to keep not only Baxter’s identity but also his involvement in these heists a secret, diverting attention away from him should his name come up. They also opt to carefully monitor the situation in case anything more comes of it.

➤ Just like in MM, Baxter would eventually encounter the turtles, who aimed to stop his plan. Baxter grew especially impassioned in the face of his plan being threatened, feeling as though taking this plan away from him was synonymous with taking his children’s futures away. In the final confrontation, Baxter was prepared to deal with the turtles once and for all when his children interjected, revealing that they didn’t actually want to follow through with his plan. They simply went with it because they feared disappointing him. After having a revelation that he’d taken things too far, Baxter decided to try and shut off the machine — only for it to malfunction, fall into the water and accidentally create a super mutant that went and started rampaging in New York instead. THANKFULLY, Baxter’s anti-mutagen cleaned that mess right up. Shortly after that whole ordeal, the Stockmans and the turtles + Splinter decided to co-exist.

➤ ( Baxter is frankly quite puzzled by how the machine could’ve malfunctioned so badly, as it’s unlike him to make such an error. He chalks it up to the possibility of being distracted, between planning the heists and the actual creation of the machine. In reality, it’s yet another sign of the ooze taking a toll on him. )

➤ Despite Baxter’s plan falling through, Baxter continues to shift into a fly, given that he enjoys the form and finds it as a good way to bond with his children. Over a span of time, he happens to notice little things such as having tiny lapses in memory, being able to shift faster into his fly form but shifting slower back into human form, etc. He brushes them off, thinking them inconsequential. Then, when he’s least expecting it ?  He experiences an involuntary shift. Which is NOT supposed to happen. AT ALL. It’s supposed to be IMPOSSIBLE in fact. So, needless to say, HE’S VERY ALARMED.

➤ Panicked, Baxter begins to look into this new symptom. He swiftly discovers that, for some reason or another, his body has developed a strange reaction to stress which activates his mutation. This shouldn’t be happening, though; the anti-mutagen flushes out every bit of mutagen in his body to keep this type of thing from happening. Well…this is also how he learns that apparently the anti-mutagen’s been gradually becoming less and less effective with each use. As a result, it’s been leaving trace amounts of mutagen, thus allowing for these involuntary changes to happen. Not only that but, theoretically, these involuntary shifts could eventually become permanent, as per the effect of the ooze. Despite this massive bomb of information landing on him, Baxter remains calm and tries to find a solution. He does not originally inform anyone of his condition, not wishing to cause a panic.

➤ Unfortunately…Baxter can’t find a solution. Due to the mutagen impacting his memory, it directly interferes with his ability to help himself. Eventually, he can’t even recognize the equations he wrote himself. Inevitably, his children wind up learning about the severity of his condition — first learning of his involuntary shifts, then discovering that the anti-mutagen no longer works after discovering he stopped mixing it. As his condition continues to rapidly deteriorate  ( including growing less and less human, as he’s eventually unable to fully revert back ), he begins suffering bouts of irritability and depression. Grieving his fate, Baxter isolates himself.

➤ Unbeknownst to Baxter, TCRI placed a tracker on one of the parts he used for his machine, which was destroyed along with the machine  ( by the way — yet another early sign that something was amiss with Baxter ). Thus, while all of this is going on, they happen to know their location. However, this also means that Z knows his location. Eventually, they journey to the shipyard in order to warn him of the potential danger. They wind up finding him in his sorry condition instead, prompting them to offer their assistance in restoring his humanity while trying to keep TCRI at bay. Despite having not interacted much with them, Baxter chooses to trust them and accept their help.

[gutsposting]

Dear [redacted],

I’m sorry for not writing to you sooner. I haven’t had the time or the supplies until now. I’ve gotten all of your letters and I hope this one can get to you in only a few days. You asked me how I liked Britain. I’m assuming you meant, how did I enjoy my time here before I had to come to the island? Well, I didn’t enjoy it as much as I had hoped. The village they put me in was quiet, small and rather nice. It rained at every waking moment. I feel exceptionally gloomy here, without you and the kids it feels like years have passed already.

I have to put a lot of faith in our suits, and in Dr. Halligan. He was my boss’s boss, back when I worked for the University. I’m not sure if you met him before or not. I suppose that he has to trust me a lot too, because if I make any mistakes I’ll get him killed. I could easily understand how anxious he might be working with a guy as young as I am. I think that he respects me a lot for volunteering though. And now that we’ve worked together this long and this closely - having to rely on each other this much, I think he’s built up some kind of mutual respect towards me.

He and I live in a facility, quarantined from one another at all times, that basically feels like a lab that you have to live in. I’m trying to make it as homey as I can but it’s not much use. They didn’t let me bring any personal items with me onto the island and I obviously can’t have anything brought to me from the outside here. They actually did install a little library with a good number of books, and there is also a laptop here but it has pretty heavily restricted access to the internet. Honestly, I’m scared to look up any news about the whole situation because I know they’ll get rid of me the second they think I’ll go to the media or the Russians or whatever.

Honestly it’s more work than I’ve ever had to do before. We work 8 hour shifts, from 9am to 5pm, and we can only be outside of the facility for 30 minutes at a time. Bob runs off and does his own thing for his bit of time, but I have to go and document the decomposition of all 57 bodies every single day. Just getting good pictures of all 57 is difficult as hell, and they’ve really been on top of me when it comes to hitting my deadlines on the reports. I can tell you that if I get contaminated I’m going to hang myself. I won’t go through what these people have, and I definitely won’t bring one microbe of this back to you.

The suits are able to protect us, 100% of the time with 100% effectiveness, but if we stay outside for too long the gas gets the suits so contaminated that they can’t be used again and the process of sanitizing them becomes “unrealistically expensive”, as I was told. All of my notes are kept in a house in the middle of the tiny village, and I use a phone they gave me to send my pictures on to the computer. 30 minutes to check the bodies, 30 minutes to get back home and get clean, and to make sure your suit is in perfect shape, and back out for 30 more minutes. Then when I get back it usually takes me six hours to get all of the reports done.

There is going to be a cleanup someday, but no one is ever gonna be able to live here again. Nor will they want to, once everyone understands this gas and how stupid the human race was for making it. They told me it would be livable here again in a year’s time but I don’t believe it at all to tell you the truth. This gas seems to be more “sticky” than any I’ve ever heard of. It gat grow spores in your clothes and can spread them everywhere, and you can he infected for weeks before you show any symptoms.

It’s been very bright for the past few weeks, but unbelievably cold. I absolutely despise being outside, now. Gray rocks, nasty slushy rain, always overcast… being surrounded by the sea is nice though. I spend some time every morning just watching the waves crash against the rocks, and I imagine myself as an old lighthouse keeper. I do my best to keep my mind on better, less complicated times. I envision myself, bearded and old, living off of rationed supplies and spending all my free time just trying to keep sane. It’s just another daydream I use to keep my mind busy.

The cat they sent me is Russian, they said. Gray, with long fur. I named her Dasha. I admit, I talk to her when I’m quarantined in my room for the 16 hours a day I’m not working. You know how I am. So after all, you probably expect to hear that I’m still not sleeping. Every night I maybe fall asleep for about an hour, but it’s hard for me to say. I’ve done a lot of reading, like you recommended. The tablet you sent me has been put to extreme use. I have to get every book pre-approved , though. Somehow [redacted] made it on to the banned books list.

The part of this letter I’m dreading to write about the most is also probably what you want to hear about the most. The job isn’t fun at all, I tell you. It’s obvious that everyone died painfully. The bodies are skeletons now but I have had to document their decomposition with painstaking detail over all of this time. Re-visiting the same faces and watching them rot away. And the island is nothing but gray rocks and dead grass, and it rains every fucking day all day. It’s been difficult.

I’ve been trying to keep up my habits as normally as I did before I left home. I’ve got complete internet access, and I’m too scared to know what they’ll do if I look anything up about this place and what’s going on out there. I have been playing a lot of video games of course. I made progress with the city we built last winter, I hope you don’t mind. You can see what I’ve done if you log in to my account on the computer at home, the password should be saved. I know it’s hard, going from seeing one another every day and having phones to feeling like a couple from the 1950’s writing handwritten letters to each other, but there’s something nice about it too.

I’ve been promised compensation when I come back. I worry that I’ll come home sick from all this. Some unknown illness will take me 20 years from now or something. But as long as I don’t get anyone else infected, I don’t really care. The settlement I was promised in the case of my death is insane. You and the boys would be alright forever.

I do feel as though it’s my duty to be here. As far as I know, few people are as qualified as I am to do this. Bob is running an inspection on the site’s computer systems. One time he did tell me that the problem was inexplicable because “there were not supposed to be any computers there that were connected to the internet”, and he hasn’t found any evidence that there were. So whereas he’s stuck and getting more frustrated by the day, I just feel a gloomy sense of duty to keep on keeping on. What choice do I have? Without this level of documentation, we can’t properly convince the rest of the world to cut this shit out.

Worst of all though is the dread in my heart that tells me it won’t be enough. The pictures I’ve taken are too graphic for the public to see, and I’m positive that my testimony is going to be doubted and challenged. Half the country has already made up their minds about it, and I’m not stupid enough to think I can change the minds of stupid people.

Don’t believe anything you read or see until I get home and I can explain everything. Some of the stuff you’ll hear is definitely going to be true, but there’s a lot of speculation out there. I do believe it was the Russians but [many sentences redacted].

Lastly, I’ll tell you about the most sinister theory of all. I think that the government gave me this cat specifically so I would grow attached to it. So now that I have to rely on it for my own sanity, any minuscule mistake that I make in keeping myself decontaminated would result in her death a lot quicker than mine. That’s one piece of information I’m positive I’m allowed to tell you; the gas kills animals a lot quicker than it kills humans. They brought her here to be a canary in the coal mine. If she dies in screaming agony I have no way to help her, and then I have to sit here and wait until the microbes I forgot to kill with the sanitation process reach my brain and cause me to spasm until I die. I watch it happen every night in my dreams.

I’m sorry to worry you, I just need someone to understand what it’s like here, what I’m going through.

I love you [redacted], six more months and I’ll be back home.

P.S. Any updates about our crazy neighbor?

[iwannawritelots]

Original work crossover fic :”3

Some context:

I’ve already assigned Solomon’s magic to someone in the actual story, but no magic is special to a single individual that bears it. Asmodeus’ magic is the same as their charm ability in game kinda (their magic would fall under “mind-altering magic” in my universe). How strong someone’s magic is will vary from person to person due to multiple factors (including training themself to use it properly). In the world, physical magic comes from certain “release points” on a magic-born; Solomon’s are his hands. For this fic’s purposes, MC’s release points are on the shoulders, arms, and upper back. Magic-borns that have non-physical magic, like Asmodeus in this fic, utilize weapons that have other magicians’ magic within it to defend themselves. ALSO magic-born individuals have weaker bodies than non-magic-born people (immune system, bodily strength, etc).

Solomon is a magician who makes whatever he touches poisonous to others. He’s transmasculine here and has a gender-affirmation ring that utilizes a shape shifting magician’s magic. (I have 4 characters in the actual story who have this kind of ring, one of which is mentioned here: Emanuela.)

Asmodeus is a vampire that can charm others. They have a gender-affirmation ring as well, being genderfluid (it works differently than Solomon’s for this reason). They also have a ring to protect them from Solomon’s magic, so they are the only one who can touch Solomon’s hands.

MC is a magician with heat/fire magic.

(The way I’ve structured things, magic-born is the minority in every race [human, faery, merperson, etc], except vampires are always magic-born— as well as the smallest race.) Solomon and Asmodeus have a vampire-magician marriage, meaning they each have a tattoo on their neck of the other’s name. If they were to have a third person in their marriage, the individual’s name would also be added to their necks. This is mostly to signify to any vampires besides Asmodeus that Solomon is not to be fed from. (Vampires don’t see it as ownership, but cultures outside theirs think of it as such.)

LASTLY, a lot of the world building is still being done, which is making writing the actual story itself difficult. No perspective is meant to be completely black and white within the actual story.

Mentioned characters from the actual universe: (former princess of the empire, wife of the queen of vampires) Emanuela, Zeta (daughter of the queen of vampires)

onto the crossover -3-

Asmodeus trailed behind MC and Solomon, listening quietly to their surroundings as they all walked. They were hunting for non-vampire appropriate food, which was frankly more frustrating than it should have been. Animals were scarce due to the conflict between the vampires and the empire, which was making non-vampires irritable. If Asmodeus didn’t know any better, they would have tricked a few magicians into turning just to ease the food supply demand. Although they knew it was wrong, most of what was stopping them was the fact that Lady Emanuela would no doubt catch on— since they shared the same vein of magic and she wouldn’t be affected by any of their tricks— then turn them in to her wife, the queen of vampires.

Solomon stalled his tracks and turned to gaze at Asmodeus. “My love, maybe we should turn around. There doesn’t seem to be anything in this area.” He fumbled with his gender-affirmation ring, unsure how Asmodeus would react. It wasn’t as if they weren’t equals, but he still felt weird speaking as such. “I haven’t even seen wild berries…”

Humming in agreement, Asmodeus adjusted the hood on their head. Despite the overcast, even a sliver of sunlight would still give them a nasty burn, and the war was prioritizing soldiers; no sun-deflecting salves were left in the city. “You’re right, Solomon. Unless MC has any reason for us to continue this area, we should go somewhere else.”

“Won’t we get in trouble if we leave our area?”

“This isn’t the empire, MC.” Asmodeus huffed and fiddled with their cloak once more, attempting to make the wrinkles more aesthetically pleasing. “We have to find one of Zeta’s animals and tell them what’s going on.”

Before anyone could say another word, an arrow shot into the small of Asmodeus’ back, making them cry out in pain. Solomon quickly grabbed them and shielded them behind himself, words failing to leave his mouth. MC had frozen in place, but their flames erupted from their shoulders and back due to the adrenaline. “Who’s there?” demanded Solomon finally, taking a glove off of his spare hand with his teeth. “Show yourself!”

There was only silence in response. Asmodeus squirmed out of his hold, reaching behind themself and snapping the arrow in half to reduce chances of it snagging during an inevitable fight. They could ignore it for the moment (there was no choice anyways). “You know they won’t. We have to find them ourselves, and kill them.”

“What if this is a trap?” MC asked quietly, glancing at the two before double checking their fire-resistant clothes were unscathed from their scare.

A plethora of arrows mockingly shot near the trio’s feet. The attackers were either missing on purpose or poorly taught. “Even if it is, we cannot allow them to find the city.” Asmodeus felt a bit lightheaded, and the weakness of a magic-born’s body was prominent with the arrow snuggly in their intestines. They swallowed hard, then reached for their pepper-box style gun, the reality of the situation hitting them. “The arrows are coming from that direction. Let’s go.”

Despite the sharp pain from the injury Asmodeus bore, they carefully lead Solomon and MC towards the source of the arrows. Solomon grabbed some rocks from the ground, feeling the poison he created within them instantly. Then MC spotted one of the shooters in a tree just above them. Without a second thought, they released their flames and willed them towards the shooter with a swing of their arm, setting the human ablaze, as well as the tree.

The action escalated the situation, causing the other shooters to graze Solomon’s ear and puncture Asmodeus’ bicep. A scream ripped from their throat as they quickly located an attacker and shot a death bullet directly into their skull. None of them were close enough to charm, and part of Asmodeus wondered if they knew this.

Solomon, overtaken with fear, reflexively threw his rocks in the direction of several attackers, poisoning them and causing them to scream out in pain. He glanced towards MC, who was burning a few of the attackers to death, then to Asmodeus. They were blinking out tears with each shot to a pursuer’s forehead. Promising himself that Asmodeus wouldn’t be hurt further, Solomon raced to an attacker and grabbed them by the throat, a strained shriek leaving them as his poison took over. Once he knew they would die, he hurried to the next person, then the next.

By the time they had killed all the attackers, Asmodeus was seeing white, collapsed on the ground. “Asmodeus!” Solomon hurried over to kneel at his spouse’s side, horrified at their condition. The cloak had flown off, so their skin was burning, and the arrows were stubbornly lodged into them. The one Asmodeus had snapped in half earlier was much deeper than the other, and Solomon felt his stomach twist. “Asmodeus, can you hear me?” he spoke gently, laying a hand on Asmodeus’ head. The vampire whimpered to him, and he carefully pulled them into his arms. He reached for the cloak and used it to shield them from the sunlight once more. “MC?” Solomon called out, feeling tears pricking his eyes.

The magician hurried over, bag of different looted items in one hand, and a magic-infused weapon in the other. “I was inspecting their belongings. Is Asmodeus okay?”

“I-I don’t know…” Solomon snapped the intact arrow in half, then discarded the remnants in a nearby bush. “Have you seen any of Zeta’s animals?”

“No.” MC sighed, squatting down to Solomon and Asmodeus’ level. “I found some stolen magic goods in their supplies. If I keep looking, there might be something to heal them or ease the pain.”

Solomon shook his head, then stood, holding Asmodeus close to his chest. “No, they probably have garlic-infused balms and edibles. We’ll have to wait until we return to the city.” He glanced around, then gazed at Asmodeus’ cloaked form when he felt their fingertips dig into his collarbone. “Did you inspect most of them?”

“All but the ones you killed.”

“There wasn’t much on them, but we should double check in case they have any information.” Solomon led MC back to the people he defended them from, keeping alert in case there was anyone else as they sifted through the dead’s belongings. “Anything?”

MC shrugged. “Only a couple letters to their families, a few stolen magical items, and one of them had the order to search for the city.” Solomon frowned, adjusting Asmodeus slightly before leading MC back towards the city. The two didn’t speak for a long while, mostly because they were both occupied by making it back without further issues. “Is… the healer in the city?”

“I don’t know. They’re probably not.” Solomon didn’t dare take his eyes away from his surroundings. “This war is making our city suffer. None of our usual hunters are home, none of our healers are home, there aren’t any sunlight-deflecting salves for everyday use, we’re low on food and blood…”

MC nodded, picking up the pace when they spotted the city walls. “Let’s hope Asmodeus will be alright.”

“Yes… let’s hope…”

[talldarkandroguesome]

21st of Last Seed, Morndas

Yesterday I did not get done quite so much as I would have liked. At least the stable has a new roof. I have drawn up some of the garden renovations. I have at least marked some of the plants to be moved so that the groundskeeper can begin to assign her crew to begin the moving of things to where they belong.

I also have noticed that this horrible little grass has begun to carpet the garden. The Groundskeeper tells me that Urtisa had instructed them to sow the seeds every year in the late spring, it is some sort of Nord import that stays through cold temperatures. She liked to have some green in the winter that was soft beneath her feet.

The stuff is awful. when it gets dry it is sharp and it seems to attract a strange sort of fly that likes to go straight for the eyes. And it also seems to be a favorite of mosquitoes, and The Three know we have enough of those without any help.

So I am having to draw up a plan to uproot all the surface soil and to turn it over and hope to smother it then with cloth or hay or something. It is going to be a long process to ensure that we are not simply reseeding the stuff, but also not doing anything that will destroy the good quality of soil we have. I wonder if I should have some volcanic ash purchased to cover the whole of the overturned soil. It should choke out anything below, if I am lucky, and add nutrients.

That is, unless there are strong winds, which we typically get the end of Last Seed and the start of Hearthfire. They should not be too strong until Frostfall, but with the storms that have been blowing up so suddenly, I do not know if it is worth doing right now. Perhaps black cloth is the easiest way.

I received a letter from Fennorian. It has been a long while since I have heard from him. He sent me a couple of pressed flowers between pages of the letter, asking me if I knew their identity.

One was easy, it was a guar's foot fern. They are easiest to identify by the strange root-like growths that tend to spread out and form what appears to be the shape of a guar foot. Their leaves are long with slightly clubbed trilobal points at the end of each tip of the frond. I took one out with me to compare to those growing in our shade garden and sure enough, they even had the same crimson along the venation. I told sent one of the fronds of my own plant back, along with a fiddlehead and a bit of one of the guar feet so that he might see if the plant he was looking at bore any of these features to be sure.

The other plant was a type of nightshade. He suspected as much as well, the flower that very prominent star-shape that all nightshades bare. It was a bit more of a red-purple than I am used to seeing in nightshades, almost a ripe plum color. The leaves also seemed to be in the nightshade family.

I went to my encyclopedia of poisonous plants and turned to the section on nightshades. It was similar to a few of them, but not exactly matching the descriptions of any. And so I had to tell him that I was unsure of exactly what it was, but that I would check with the botany and alchemy masters in the city to see if any of them had an identification to make.

Fennorian spoke of the rebuilding of the town that had been ravished by the necromancer Reezal-Jul. People had begun to move back and the destruction cleaned up. Graves were re-sanctified and wards put up to keep the dead from being able to rise again. The Count was still working on protecting his lands and those surrounding them. He was working on the greater threat of the necromancer and was apparently rather close to succeeding with putting the threat down. Fennorian suspects that some of the leads I gave him were of use, though that may have simply been a courtesy.

I told Fennorian of my own recent dealings with a necromancer and wondered if necromancy was beginning to be a real problem on the continent with how many seem to be active these days.

Then Luayl came and found me for my lesson and I had to close there and send off my letter.

Luayl had made some changes to the training ground. There were far more obstacles and he told me he wished for me to attempt to succeed without being shown how to do so.

It was a struggle, I seemed to have to go back as much as forward to pass the obstacles and many of them took several attempts to bypass. I had to do short teleporting to keep from falling or getting hit by different obstacles, many of which moved by kinetic or magickal means. You would step on the obvious balancing point and then be thrown or tipped to the side or flung up towards a trap. It was incredible just how much of the course now had some sort of defensive means without actually extending the size of the course nearly at all.

When I finished, I was battered and bruised and exhausted. Luayl then showed me the fastest way through and it took him almost no time at all to manage the whole course. There were so many options I had not even considered to be a place to have a handhold or a method of moving through.

After his demonstration he told me that I had fallen for each of the defensive traps and only managed to avoid much of the harm through my skills. That said, I was relying purely on my initial training. I had not evolved my thinking or way of planning. That it was the impediment that was holding me back. I needed to learn to assess things differently, for thinking had moved forward. The way that defenses were set up was evolving and so I needed to evolve myself as well.

It was a hard pill to swallow, given that many of those skills had been taught to me by him. I also like to think of myself as adaptable, but here was proof to the contrary. I was no better, in some small ways, as the members of the House Council.

Seeing my obvious feelings of deflated sadness, Luayl talked me through the obstacles and how to spot the traps. Then he had me run the course again, one part at a time, reminding me of the trap therein.

At the end, I managed nearly the whole thing in a reasonable time per obstacle and without too many mistakes. He congratulated me on my quick thinking and helped me to bathe and relax, applying salve and soothing my muscles before laying me down and giving me the reward of his body on mine.

Were I to have a womb, I should like him to put a child in it immediately. There is something about the way he can be so strict and so soft in turns, the way he makes me want to impress him, and the way I long for his every compliment and validation, that simply drives me mad. I want to be his again. Despite knowing that nothing good would come of it, I desire him with a similar fervor to how I did when I was young. I want his love and lust. I want him to want me. I want him to see me and like what he finds there. I want to be what he wants me to be.

It is foolish to feel this way. I know this. My traitorous heart, on the other hand, refuses to acknowledge the wisdom of my head. The irony of wanting so desperately to belong to the mer I once made want me as his own is not lost upon me. The tables have certainly turned. How my Prince must be laughing at me now!

And yet, with every touch I feel my body craning to his desire. How I anticipate his needs and try to meet them before he has to speak them aloud. I miss the way he makes me feel when we are apart.

This is a desperate and fragile sort of creature, this feeling. I know it will not last and that brings a sort of fear and sadness to every meeting. The House could decide at any point to simply send him away and I would be powerless to stop it.

Damn this bloody fool heart of mine!

[zenruption]

The Importance Of Regular Maintenance: Why These 4 Things We All Use Need Care

Regular maintenance is essential for a variety of items and activities, from vehicles to computers, to things that we use every day without taking a moment to consider. It’s easy to overlook the importance of regular upkeep, but it can save time, money and even lives in certain cases. For each of the below points, we will look at how proper care can help prevent expensive repairs or replacements as well as potential safety hazards that could arise if these things were not regularly maintained. With this information you'll be able to understand what kind of maintenance should be done in order to keep the world running smoothly and safely.

Roads

Regular maintenance is essential for roads in order to ensure safe and efficient transportation. Without proper upkeep, roads can become dangerous for drivers due to cracks, potholes, and other damage that can cause accidents. Additionally, deterioration of roads can lead to costly repairs down the road. Proper road maintenance involves inspecting and restoring the surface of the road as and when it is needed. This can include regularly filling in potholes, patching cracks, resurfacing when needed, and removing debris. Regular inspections should also be done to identify potential issues that could cause safety hazards or damage to vehicles.

During road maintenance works, those carrying out the maintenance may need to put certain measures in place to ensure the safety of drivers and personnel. These measures can include temporary closures of roads, changing lanes, installing speed bumps, and closing intersections with traffic signals. In order to control congestion during these times, it's also important to implement lane shifts, speed limits, and even get some temporary signals from somewhere like these traffic signal lights manufacturers that can be controlled by those doing the work to manage the traffic as efficiently as possible.

Parks

Regular maintenance of parks is essential for creating and maintaining a healthy, vibrant outdoor space. It not only ensures that visitors can enjoy safe and enjoyable experiences, but it also protects the environment and enhances the surrounding habitats. Mowing the grass helps to keep it looking neat and tidy, while pruning trees keeps them healthy and growing in the correct shape. Weeding flower beds helps to prevent invasive species from taking over the area and spoiling the aesthetic. Finally, collecting litter helps to keep the space clean and reduce the risk of harm to animals who may ingest something they shouldn't.

Regular maintenance of children's play areas is essential to ensure they are safe and fun for kids. It is important to check equipment such as slides, swings, and see-saws for signs of wear and tear or damage, and replace any broken parts or sharp edges. The area should also be regularly cleared of debris such as leaves, branches or downed trees. This helps to eliminate potential tripping hazards and keep the area free from obstructions that could potentially impede recreational activities.

Beaches

Beaches are some of our most beloved places, providing us with a means to rest and relax, play games, and bond with family and friends. Therefore, it is essential for beaches around the world to be taken good care of so that they remain in their best condition and enable visitors to enjoy their beauty and natural features. It is also that beaches are properly maintained so that they can continue to provide for nature and wildlife who rely on them for food, shelter, etc. 

It is also important to manage the coastal environment to ensure that sand levels don't become too low. This may involve the implementation of specific beach care and maintenance programs, such as debris removal and garbage pick-up. Beach preservation techniques, such as sandbagging, may also be used to minimize erosion and help preserve existing sand levels. Additionally, many beaches have implemented regulations and policies to ensure that visitors are aware of their responsibility to keep the beach clean and safe for both the humans and nature that make use of it.

Public Transport

Whether it's getting to work, school, or just around where they live, many people rely on public transport to get them where they need to go every day. Frequent maintenance of public transport is therefore essential for ensuring its longevity and safety. Without this, buses, trains, and other forms of public transport can quickly become unsafe and unreliable. This can have a negative impact on the overall transportation system in an area, causing delays and overcrowding.

Regular inspections are needed to identify any potential issues that could cause problems with the public transport system. This includes checking for wear and tear on components, ensuring that all safety features are working correctly, and verifying that all necessary repairs have been completed. Additionally, repeated fluid changes are essential for keeping the engine of public transportation running optimally and reducing the risk of breakdown. This includes engine oil and coolant, which are important for regulating temperature and lubricating the internal parts of engines.

Final Thoughts

In conclusion, maintenance is essential for many things that we rely on each day, therefore taking the time to properly take care of them can save stress in the long run, whilst also making sure that they are available for everyone to use at all times. Those in charge of things like parks and roads know just how important they are to our communities, so will make sure to give them the upkeep and attention they need in order to function optimally. Even minor activities like litter picks can really make a difference to how a space looks and keeps it safe for users. Don’t forget, prevention is better than cure!

[sablagedeplancherlaval]

Things to keep in mind before choosing a floor sanding professional

Hardwood flooring is very beautiful when it’s in good shape and adds to the beauty of the house. However, hardwood flooring does not last forever like the other flooring. No matter what amount of care and precautions are taken, the wooden flooring loses shine in few years. However, wooden flooring’s lost shine can be brought back with floor sanding.

Important factors before choosing a floor sanding professional • Plan well in advance when you hire a professional for floor sanding and make a schedule in sync with the contractor’s availability and also your household’s availability.

•Remove all the furniture and place everything in a proper place before the professional’s start with the work. • The best Floor sanding professional in Laval from Montreal to Mont-Tremblant will ensure to protect the baseboards and the joints of your walls. However, it is advisable to cover it with tapes for safety.

• Ensure adequate ventilation for the contractors and workers so that they can complete the job comfortably. This will ease the cleaning process after refinishing.

• The floor sanding specialists in Montreal provides many cleaning services. Still it’s good if you can pre-clean the house prior to the sanding process.

• Lastly do inspection whether floor is flat, or it needs some work to be done.

Sablage-de-planchar.ca — Floor sanding professional in Laval from Montreal to Mont-Tremblant is one of the best floor sanding experts in Montreal and its direct surrounds and as far as Mont-Tremblant. We guarantee you with top-notch quality products and workmanship. We take a deeper look in each house and also understand the requirements and expectations of each client. Our experts have an economical as well as ecological solutions that provide quality finished sanding on every type of hard wood.

[sexyvampkitty]

[RP Solo...Mentions of Damon and Klaus] ‘We Keep This Love In A Photograph’

I stare out the window...watching the landscape go by...absentmindedly playing with the heart-shaped pendent at my neck...wondering for the millionth time since I left the Salvatore house this morning whether I'm doing the right thing or not. Rather...what I'm about to do. I love Damon 'Abandon' Salvatore, more than I've ever loved any other man that I've been with over the past...almost three years now. I really do. I also realize that...to anyone looking in on our relationship from the outside...it would appear that all we ever do is have sex...and we do have a 'lot' of that...amazing...mind-blowing...earth-shattering sex...I mean...the man can make me feel things with his tongue alone that I never knew were even possible...but it's 'so' much more than that. I also know that he'll do anything for me...put his literal life on the line to protect me if necessary...and he's already demonstrated that fact...multiple times. In the short time since we've been together...he's already saved me from dying after I got bit by Klaus...saved me from being marked by a vampire huntress...rescued me from a prison world...all in the space of about two months...and I feel like there's no way that I can ever repay him for any of that. I also don't know how he continues to put up with me...since all I ever seem to do is attract danger everywhere that I go. That hasn't changed...ever since I was human. I wouldn't change what Damon and I have for anything in the world though. After all this time...I 'finally' found something that is real. I finally found the one man who will never leave me. So...what am I doing right now? Leaving him instead...if only temporarily...but I felt like I had no other choice. Something has...shifted between us lately...mostly in the last few days...more on my part than his...and...I'm sure he has noticed...even though he chose not to say anything. Maybe he just didn't know how to address what I was going through, so he chose to stay quiet. It started three nights ago...not long after another round of crazy, somewhat violent sex...which is probably what set it off in the first place...especially when he chose to do...'things'...to me...that I've never done with anyone else before. He's been taking me to dark places lately...and...through no fault of his...it's opened up a gaping void in my mind that is threatening to swallow me whole...no matter how hard I try and fight to close it. That first night...as soon as I drifted off to sleep...I found myself back in Hell again...surrounded by all four of my exes...including my most recent ex...who were all too happy to start back up with the torturing...almost like I never left...calling me a whore and a disappointment to Cade...and...since I had refused to honor my 'deal'...they were all going to make me pay. Even though...in the back of my mind...I 'knew' that it was a dream...that I was actually still in bed...wrapped safely in Damon's arms...that didn't stop the sense that the pain that I was experiencing...was all too real. It sure 'felt' like it anyway...especially when all of my exes decided to have sex with me in turn...and this wasn't the 'making love' kind of sex. This was the brutal...savage...hurtful...'fucking you in every available hole and in every which way' kind of sex. I guess I should've told Damon the part about being sexually tortured in Hell...especially when it came to the idea of anal sex...but I had 'no' idea how or where to start on that. It's not really the kind of thing that you just 'tell' someone. Although...if I had told him...he would've understood why I was hesitant at first at the thought of him entering me...down there. The dream seemed endless...as well as the torture...and the fire...and I tossed and turned all night...able to hear my own mournful moans in my sleep. The same thing happened the next night...as well as last night. This morning when I awoke...bolting upright in bed...totally freaked out...and almost kicking my poor boyfriend out of bed in the process...I figured...enough is enough. Something has to be done about these damn nightmares from my short vacation in Hell...or we are 'never' going to move forward in our relationship. Every time I think that we are actually getting somewhere...something like this happens...and I end up taking about ten steps back. It seems like...no matter how hard I try...I can never get my damn exes out of my head...even though at least two of them I know to be dead...and...I will never be able to...not unless drastic measures are taken. I can't live like this anymore...and there's 'no' way that I'm going to stake myself and end up on the 'Other Side'...or possibly Hell...again. I suddenly knew what I had to do...even if the idea of facing 'him' again...after what he did to me before...totally creeped me out...but I didn't see as if I had any other choice...like I just said only a few moments ago. My mind made up...I gently untangled myself from Damon's arms and carefully and quietly climbed out of bed...so that I didn't wake him up. I tiptoed over to the bureau...opened up one of the drawers and rummaged around until I came out with a pen and a pad of paper. I then scribbled him a quick note telling him where I was going...that I 'hopefully' wouldn't be gone long...adding that he shouldn't worry...both about me and the thought that I 'might' be breaking up with him or something. I left the paper on the bedside table...walked out of the room...made my way down the stairs...through the huge foyer...and to the front door. Taking a deep breath...I opened the front door...put one foot out...followed by the other...then shut the door...leaving Damon...and hopefully my past demons...behind me. Where am I now? On a bus...heading to New Orleans...on the way to try and track down the hybrid that I despise the most. The same hybrid bastard who tried to kill me not long ago. Klaus. He's not my first choice...but I'm out of options. I'm desperate. I have to get rid of these bad memories somehow. I feel like I'm dragging Damon down with my screwed up past...and...being an Original vampire...Klaus is the only one who can compel it away. I want every memory gone since I first set foot in the damn town that I am currently vacating...other than meeting Damon. I know that I will also be loosing other memories in the process...like the other friends that I've met over the years...as small as that number might be...but I don't really care. That way I won't remember Wes anymore either. Just one more bad memory to kiss 'GoodBye' to. Once my slate is 'finally' wiped clean...then I can go back to Damon as a changed woman...not to mention a much happier one. I just hope that Klaus doesn't decide to erase 'all' of my memories...because Damon is the one memory that I can't bear to lose. Without him in my life...I really have no reason to go on living at all...but...I guess we'll both have to deal with that...if it happens...* [END]

[manifestingsage]

I just surrendered someone I “thought” was my TF of 31 year’s. I met someone in 2019, assuming it was another karmic partner. I hadn’t dated for 11 years. But I couldn’t resist his energy. He was also 13 year’s younger than myself. I don’t believe in dating anyone 5 year’s younger than myself & here I was fighting this energetic connection to this younger man like crazy. It took him a few months to get me to go out with him, to finally meet him in person. We met, thing’s were crazy with us. I told him I’d been waiting for someone for 29 year’s point, I knowit bothered him. I told him i was 100% sure this other person was my TF & I’d leave anyone for him if he ever came back to me again. I blamed myself for losing him in the first place, I wasn’t going to allow it to happen twice. Meeting this guy felt like I was repeating history because I was certain my TF & I were about to reunite when this guy pops up. This put a third person in between our budding relationship who wasn’t physically there or physically available. I continued to allow myself to feel the energy of this new guy I was only dating. We had an instant connection that I hadn’t experienced with anyone for many many year’s, it reminded me of what I felt for my first TF. The connection had it’s differences compared to the person who I thought was my TF. Like hearing him in my mind when I allow it, I never experienced that before. I feel like he’s listening to my every thought, which irritates me. I feel like I have no privacy. I dream about him all the time when I didn’t dream about my first TF hardly at all until recently. I started thinking for the first time that maybe I was wrong, that maybe this karmic partner was really my TF. I’d say it to myself then just as quickly dismiss it. I’d discuss it with my sister’s a lot. The energy only grew stronger as our time together grew. I healed many thing’s in my body during that time of my life, that they tell people are near impossible to heal. That includes hypothyroidism. Diabetes 2, metabolic syndrome, stage 3 fatty liver disease & the aggressive RA I had is now not as aggressive. I was also in & out of a wheelchair, walking with a cane occasionally, in 24-7 physical pain. I suddenly had energy I didn’t have in year’s, .y pain levels went down. My drs released me to physical therapy & I took off on a local trail fast walking after a month of physical therapy. I was done being indoors after isolating for many year’s, I wanted to be surrounded with nature. I ended up taking off over 100lbs. At first every step was painful. I remember feeling I wanted to meet this person who I had so much energy with as a better version of myself than I was. More in shape. When I was younger I used to wake up two hours early just to make sure I looked perfect. Because of being so physically ill for so many year’s, I can honestly say I no longer cared about my appearance as much, I was resigned to living the rest of my life being single. Then suddenly I meet this guy out of the blue who’s extremely persistent, very kind & he was bringing thing’s out in me I hadn’t allowed myself to feel for year’s. Including making myself as sexy as I could for him. I normally didn’t care what men thought, they could take it or leave it. I wanted this new guy to see exactly how beautiful I was, how I saw myself under all the weight I’d gained to protect myself from love. I couldn’t believe he’d chosen me, I was so out of shape, I was frumpy. Lol. That’s the truth. It was wonderful when we were together. But being apart was driving me nuts. And I’m NOT normally like that in relationships. I really try to make sure the other person has their space. He began giving me too much space. That upset me. I was feeling too clingy, that upset me. I couldn’t have him knowing that. So I continued to work out like a mad woman. Every time he saw me, I was smaller. When we took three months off, I came back to him an entirely different person than he’d met in February from August.

Idk what he thought about that… But it was fun showing him I felt sexy, I did it all for him. He never knew. I assumed a lot about him, I’m sure he did with me as well. That he was just a player, probably seeing other women too, playing the exact same game with them as he was with me. But then we’d get together & the energy was always there, it was undeniable. I just wanted more & he refused me. I started believing he was married. For all I know he was, he is now… How do we get passed that? I’m the type that believes in vows. They’re sacred. I was trying to deny what I was feeling. I believe he was too. You can’t date someone the way he was dating me & have it work. I think the term is popcorn dating? I began feeling like I was begging him for mere scraps. I started telling myself it was because of my age. Then that he deserved someone...   Click here to read this complete article. Disclaimer : This article is originally published in SpiritualUnite.com. All the rights of content are owned by SpiritualUnite.com. We have published a part of the article with due credits and link to the original author and source.