#the coin is our savior

[dumb-fuck-in-1mil-fandoms]

I got bored and made some silly stuff

[the-smut-analyst]

Making Characters That Make Sense

Walk-through character template & "how to" guide for writing complex, original protagonists.

If you google "character templates for writing", you'll get a lot of very basic examples that read like a grocery list: eye colour, hair colour, skin colour, positive traits, negative traits, etc.

And sure, filling out this kind of template isn't completely useless - but it's also not particularly useful, either. Choosing whether your protagonist has blue eyes or green eyes isn't going to determine whether readers connect with them or not.

Instead, I prefer to use the below template:

There's some fairly left-of-centre categories here, so in this blog post I'll be creating a character from scratch to demonstrate what each section means and how to use the template effectively.

Primary Goal & Raison D'Être

Fantasy Romance is having a bit of a tournament-to-the-death moment right now, with Hunger Games-inspired stories like Fourth Wing, Throne of Glass, The Savior's Champion, and The Serpent and the Wings of Night in high demand - so that's what we're going to work with in today's blog post.

The story premise and primary goal of the protagonist are almost always interconnected. In this case, the story premise is a tournament to the death - and the character's main goal is to win that tournament, obviously.

But where there's room for some originality is in the raison d'être. This loosely translates to "reason for being" or "purpose". It's the why of it.

For example: what motivated this character to risk their life by entering such a tournament in the first place?

It is sometimes helpful to look at similar stories when thinking about this category. Not so you can copy their protagonist's motivations - but so you can do something different.

The whole selfless-self-sacrifice thing, for example - that's done. At least in relation to this particular sub-genre. We can do better for our hypothetical Maera Mystfang character.

Actually, let's really turn the trope on its head and make her raison d'être incredibly self-centred.

Already, this is character is shaping up to be something a little bit different within the niche of tournaments to the death. Which goes to show how putting a little bit of thought can go a long way, even with something as simple as identifying your character's initial purpose.

Primary Obstacle

Every protagonist needs a goal - and every goal needs an obstacle. This is what gives the story some tension and keeps readers turning the page.

An obvious choice of obstacle for this hypothetical character, since we're dealing with a fantasy romance, would be that Maera starts to develop feelings for one of her fellow competitors.

This concept has definitely been done, but that's okay. Not every section of this list has to break the mould. Tropes exist for a reason and it is totally okay to lean into them sometimes.

However, just for funsies, I'm going to try and put a slightly different spin on this one too.

Instead of the obvious "I love one of the people I'm meant to kill", let's make Maera's (previously dormant) conscience be the problem. Her reasons for entering the tournament may have been self-motivated, but as she gets to know her fellow competitors - admires some of them, even - she starts to second guess those reasons.

Core Traits

A lot of character templates will divide personality traits into positives and negatives - but I don't think this is particularly helpful. It is far too one dimensional - not to mention unrealistic. The key components of someone's personality aren't usually so black and white.

In fact, most core traits are both good and bad at the same time - it just depends on the context.

Instead of being wholly positive or negative, try to think of three core character traits that can serve as two sides of the same coin, with both positive and negative implications to each.

For Maera, I've given her these core traits:

Self-reliant;

Rebellious; and

Good-humoured.

Her self-reliance means that she is incredibly capable - but it's also the cause of her selfishness. She's always had to look after herself, so she expects others to do the same.

Her rebellious attitude means she isn't willing to accept the status quo. But at times she is also a rebel without a cause, causing trouble just for the fun of it.

Her good sense of humour means she is fun to be around, but she also tends to not take things as seriously as she should.

Thinking of core traits in this multi-faceted way not only adds realistic complexity, but it also sets you up well for showcasing character development and growth throughout the story.

Fatal Flaw & Character Arc / Growth

You've probably read negative reviews that throw around terms like "Mary Sue" or "Gary Stu". People tend to be over-zealous with these terms, especially for Mary Sue, but the gist of it is that the character in question is "too perfect".

They're the chosen one, they're good at everything, all the boys like them, etc.

Some characters can get away with this just fine. Look at Aragorn. He's the ultimate Gary Stu but I still swoon every time he opens those damn doors. You know the scene I'm talking about.

Ooft.

But for the most part, you want to incorporate a fatal flaw into your protagonists - because this is what gives them room to grow.

And, no. "I was born to be King but I don't wanna" does not count as a fatal flaw.

Instead, think bigger. Think worse. Think about where your character starts versus where you want them to end up. Think about how you want the events of the narrative to change their world view - or even their initial goal.

For Maera, her fatal flaw is pretty obvious, given her initial motivations for entering the tournament. Similarly, her growth/arc is linked to her primary obstacle, which is developing a conscious.

Her journey throughout this hypothetical story might be learning to appreciate how her past shaped her, while also acknowledging that there are things she can do to ensure others don't have to go through what she did. By being shown acts of kindness, she learns to appreciate their value.

First Impression

Now that we've covered all the "big picture" stuff, let's get into some of the smaller details that give your character some texture.

The first impression category is a hypothetical exercise where you image how your character might appear to a room full of strangers. In dual, multi, or omniscient POVs, you might even get the opportunity to include this impression somewhere in the story.

But even for first-person narratives, it is still worth thinking about, because it will help to inform how other characters interact and respond to your protagonist (at least at first).

For Maera, I've written this first impression as: a fun person to have a few drinks with - so long as you keep a close eye on your wallet.

From this description, we can guess that Maera probably likes to have a good time, but also comes across as untrustworthy. Whether that impression is deserved or not is up to you, as the author, to decide.

There's also a lot of deeper directions you can take this first impression category, too. Like if most people react to Maera this way, but one particular character doesn't, then your readers are going to sit up and pay extra attention during that interaction. Especially when that person reacting atypically is the future love interest.

Spirit Animal

Ah, this one is a fun one!

I always encourage my authors to assign a "spirit animal" to their characters - especially when they're doing multi-POV.

There are two main reasons for this:

It will allow you to assign some very distinct adjectives and verbs with that particular character; and

It is an opportunity to flesh out some additional character traits beyond the core traits.

For Maera, I've chosen "spider" because she is solitary by nature, opportunistic, and patient.

But, more than that, I also like the idea of Maera being the kind of person who knows how to watch and wait. While her first impression might be "here for the good times", her joking façade is actually a mask she wears while carefully observing others.

For example:

Her words were laced with venom. She crawled her way across the rooftop. At some point, weaving lies had become more of a past time that a necessity. Her thoughts were a tangled mess. She didn't bother to conceal her predatory gaze. Inch by cautious inch, she crept forward. Her sanity was already hanging by a thread. If there was one thing she knew how to do, it was spin a good story - truth be damned.

I've never outright compared Maera to a spider in these examples, nor have I made it blatantly obvious that that's what I'm doing. But by peppering these kinds or words throughout the story, I'll be able to subtly create a very distinct kind of impression for her character.

For comparison's sake, let's assign "cat" to the love interest. Examples of possible words to consider in this instance might be:

He clawed his way through the bushes. "What are you doing?" he hissed. The comment had some bite to it, that was for sure. He slunk away into the darkness. His still, unwavering focus was unnerving. He prowled towards her. In a few quick, agile steps, he'd made it across the parapet. He yawned and stretched out beside her.

Of course, not every single word you use in association with a character needs to be related to their spirit animal. But keeping a certain type of animal in mind - and finding opportunities to throw in some subtle messaging through language choice - can be beneficial on so many levels.

It helps to distinguish your characters from one another through the kind of language you use to describe them - but it's also just really, really fun way to add some bonus texture to your characters. Giving your readers some little easter eggs like this is never a bad thing.

Love Language

If you're unfamiliar with the concept of the five basic love languages, then here's a quick visual overview:

Love languages aren't a consideration that's specific to romance. They're important for friendships and familial relationships too.

Because thinking about what your protagonist values most in love is going to tell you a lot about who they are. Especially when you take the question deeper and think about why this is something they value.

For Maera, I've chosen "Acts of Service" because this ties in quite well to her character arc.

In terms of Maera's why, I could easily go with "because this was how she was shown love as a child" - and this is a good enough option most of the time. However, since her love language is very much tied into growing out of her fatal flaw, then I actually want to do the opposite.

Maera winds up valuing acts of service because this is something she craved - and wasn't given - as a child. She had to do things the hard way instead. Hence why she ends up appreciating the kindness of others so much. Such generosity is new to her - and precious.

Conflict Response

This is potentially one of the most overlooked character components. Conflict and tension is central to story telling, yet there is so little attention given to creating authentic, original responses to conflict.

The way I see it, there are three main considerations in regards to conflict response:

How your character reacts in the moment;

The unhealthy methods they use to deal with the aftermath; and

The healthy methods they use (or discover) to self-sooth.

When faced with conflict, Maera's immediate reaction is to antagonise. She doesn't like to back down and enjoys creating trouble.

However, in the aftermath, the conflict affects her more than she lets on. She stews on it - and her solution to that is to get drunk until she can forget about it completely.

But even though she sometimes forgets it, Maera has a more healthy coping mechanism at her disposal. When she is surrounded by nature - in the forest, by the sea, whatever - it calms her.

In addition to identifying your protagonist's various responses to conflict, it is also helpful to think about why. Again, this is a great opportunity to insert something unique into their character backstory.

With Maera, for example, let's think about why she finds nature so soothing. Perhaps, amidst a very bleak childhood, one of her fondest memories is of picking grapes in a vineyard.

Perhaps the elderly woman who owned the vineyard was very rude and abrupt - but also quite kind to Maera in her own way. Maybe she would sometimes stitch up Maera's clothes or feed Maera a hearty, meaty dinner - even though she didn't have to.

If you're struggling to think of a real, tangible, unique memory such as this - then it's always helpful to go back to the old classic of write what you know. Think of a real life moment or memory - something that's stuck with you, no matter how simple - then adapt it to your character.

To create this vineyard example, I simply drew on my experience of picking strawberries with my Nonna after school.

Mentor / Idol

I could write an entire thesis on mentors. Or, more specifically, the "death of the mentor" trope - both in its literal and metaphorical interpretations.

But, for the sake of brevity, let's save that sh*t for another time and focus on what's important for a basic (yet complex) character template. And that is:

The Formative Mentor (past); and

Transformative Mentor (present).

The formative mentor (or idol) is someone who influenced your character prior to the events of the novel. Sometimes they're a character the reader will meet, or other times, they're long gone before the novel even begins.

The transformative mentor is a much looser term. It doesn't necessarily have to be a traditional mentor character, but rather it is a character who heavily influences or changes your protagonist throughout the events of the novel.

For Maera, I want her earliest idol to be a random female sell-sword who she crossed paths with. Prior to meeting this sell-sword, Maera was living without hope for a future, surviving on scraps and petty crime.

But after seeing an independent and moderately wealthy sell-sword in her local tavern, Maera got a glimpse into the kind of life that might be possible if she learned to fight. With the right kind of skills, she might be able to earn some decent money for a change - and travel the world.

This is an example of how "mentors" don't always have to be a wise wizard who oversees your protagonist's training and education. Young minds are impressionable - and even distant figures can have a lasting impact.

Just look at all the women who cite Legally Blonde as the reason why they were drawn to law. Elle Woods wasn't even real - but for plenty of young girls, she made an impact.

Similarly, your protagonist's "present" mentor or idol doesn't necessarily have to be a wise wizard either. It can simply be someone who motivates them to change their world view or strive to be better.

In romance, it is more than acceptable to have the present mentor coincide with the love interest - especially in standalone enemies-to-lovers. I know this seems counter-intuitive, since the word "mentor" implies a power imbalance, but it makes more sense if you readjust your definition of mentor to be "inspires change".

However, for Maera, I kind of like the idea of pairing her up with a love interest who shares some of her flaws. I vibe with the idea of making him a bit self-interested too, although for different reasons.

So in her example, I've listed the present mentor as a selfless secondary character. The way I would envision this going is Maera and the love interest team up early on - but somewhere along the way a secondary character saves them both. They're both heavily influenced by this character before this character sacrifices themselves. The aftermath of this incident rattles both Maera and her love interest, and serves as the spark for growth.

I hope you found this template - and very long explanation - useful!

[munsonsreputation]

I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

(THE SERIES MASTERLIST)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!baker + artist synopsis: As a small town artist and self taught baker from Roane County, you don’t always find yourself stumbling into Hawkins, but in some twist of fate you form unexpected friendships with a group of individuals in the neighboring town. Life seems to take another unexpected turn when Steve Harrington becomes the focal point of someone more than a friend. So while you think you might be more than a little self-effacing he’s already coining you as the most down-to-earth girl he’ll ever meet. It seems like the belief system you both had built in your minds is now slowly breaking down, as if you were made for each other...or was it just a glitch?

🎧 THE SOUNDTRACK 🎧

chapter one: we were supposed to be just friends

chapter two: my part of town on a weekend | mood board

chapter three: situation-ship | mood board

chapter four: what’s in our system | mood board

chapter five: fastening myself to you with a stitch | sneak-peak

chapter six: [tba]

! more chaps / blurbs to come !

Glitch reader + Steve instagram pages!!!! (created by the lovely and talented @translatemunson)

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: i've been dying to put this out and this concept has been in my wips since foreverrrrrrr!! a big big big thank you to my love, the light, my literal savior @translatemunson for helping me proof-read and guiding me through what i thought was going to be ultimate writers block. i love you effie and this one is for you baby!!!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Take Me Back To Eden

Shadowheart x F! Tav

18+ thigh riding, fingering (f!), breast worship, light dirty talk, sub/dom, tenderness, implied trauma, porn with plot

Escaping the vampire lord's castle, she made her way to the Selune outpost. Into Shadowheart's waiting arms...

-

Part 1

"Wait, he didnt even want to make you a full vampire?" The disgust in her voice dripping.

"Right?!" Tav exclaimed, huffing.

Laying face to face in Shadowheart's bed, safe in the candle kissed dark.

The way to her had been an arduous one. Grabbing a stray cloak from the back of a chair she shrouded herself leaving the beach. Though he must have thought her dead after the fall, she didn't want to risk it. He had spies everywhere, word of her being spotted in the Lower City would not bode well for her chances.

Making her shaky way through the streets to the carriage at the edge of the road. "West, as far as you can take me." Handed the driver a hefty bag of coin.

"Yes saer."

When she finally shambled to the mouth of the road leading to the outpost, Shadowheart was there. Rushing to her and taking her broken body in her arms.

"You're here! Oh Gods you made it!" Both joy and concern pitched through her voice.

Going limp against her arms Tav smiled in disbelief. "I made it..."

"Oh let's get you inside," She hushed, looping an arm under her shoulders. "You'll need to see our healer."

"I thought you were my healer..." She teased, pulled to walk. Leaning her head into Shadowheart's shoulder. Her silver hair tickling her face.

"Oh sure, but Francesca is very powerful. You'll be in good hands Tav, on Selune I swear it."

"Good hands. It's been so long." She laughed shakily.

Now, swaddled in dark Shadowheart rolled her eyes. "Making you, the savior of Baldur's Gate, a spawn. What an asshole..."

Tav laughed. It helped to talk about him like this. Like he was just some shitty ex. Well, he wasn't not that. What a mess.

Heart heavy again, she still missed him. The him before the ascension. Gods she was so in love back then, her whole body soaked with it. He was her everything.

"Do you miss him?" Shadowheart asked gently, seeing the strain on her face.

"All the time." She sighed, Shadowheart's hand threading into hers.

"But he's gone. My love is for a ghost."

"I'm sorry Tav," Pushing her hair behind her ear. Voice so soft, fingers equally so.

"I dont regret it, being with him. Not one bit. If I'd only had more foresight, been more forceful at the ritual..."

"Hey," Shadowheart scooted closer to her. "You cant fault yourself, you were doing what you thought was best. You always wanted us to follow our own paths. Make our own choices."

Eyes full of adoration. "You cant blame yourself for not pushing back against his wishes."

Tav smiled, breathing out a sigh. "Maybe. I hope you're right." She nuzzled into Shadowheart's hand. "You're too good to me."

"I think, after everything," She hushed, pulling closer still. Eyes meeting, pupils wide, face flushed. "You're owed some goodness."

Her warm mouth sliding against her. Tav moaned gently into her. Hand coming to cradle her head. A heat rising in her belly.

It had been so long since she had been touched like this. All soft, exploring. Desired. No force, no possessive pulls, not a piece of claim here in her touch.

She pulled her closer, pressing their bodies together. Shadowheart's legs tangling in hers. Mouths hot and needful. Their breath a lustful miasma around them. Tongues twisting.

Shadowheart's little moans were so sweet. A soft bird call. Tav left her mouth, kissing and biting softly at her neck. Her body arched under her. Hands reaching for her blouse.

"You sure you're not a vampire?" She teased through panting breaths.

Tav laughed, helping Shadowhearts efforts in pulling off her blouse.

"Maybe just for tonight." Tav smiled, leaning back to bare absent fangs.

"Oh! So frightening!" Shadowheart admonished. Leaning up to kiss at her bare torso. Lips velvet against her scarred skin.

Tav moaned into her touch. Hand threading behind her head. A throbbing need between her legs.

When her lips met her erect nipple Tav groaned, eyes pulling closed. "There," She encouraged, trying to not pull her hair. "Right there."

Shadowheart hummed teasingly, looking up at her through her lashes. Tongue sliding slow against her peaks. Hand holding her hip, other pushing up her back to the space between her shoulder blades. Pushing her chest into her mouth.

When she took her fully in and started nibbling and suckling Tav thought she might go blind with lust. Hips already rolling against nothing.

Trembling hands pulling her robe open, the ties coming loose and falling away. Her pale form bare to Tav's eyes. Drinking her in as she worshipped her breasts. And Tav was thirsty, parched. Insatiable.

Gripping her hips she lifted her onto her thigh. Hands pushing her ass into the muscle of her leg.

Shadowheart shivered, hips already seeking. Pulsing down into her thigh. Mouth more vicious, rough, against her swollen tips.

Tav mewled, head thrown back. Hips bucking. Trying to hold her thigh taut for her as she ground down. Leggings already wet under her riding.

Shadowheart's hand pushed into her waistband, lithe fingers searching desperate. Finding her easily, already a hard mound. Rubbing tight perfect circles into her clit.

Tav gripped her ass, gritting her teeth. Pulling her hard into her thigh. Already embarrassingly close. Touch starved. Touch drunk.

Shadowheart switched breasts, her hand taking up the nipple her mouth left. Flicking it and twisting between her fingers. Mouth pulling and slobbering over the new peak obscenely. Hand still below pushing back, teasing at her entrance.

"Gods please," Tav begged, for what she wasnt sure. More, definitely more.

Shadowheart pushed inside her, two fingers hooking. Pulsing roughly.

"You're so wet," She smiled into her chest. Biting at her engorged peak.

Tav moaned in agreement, beyond words. Hips fucking her hand. Panting breaths rising.

"Are you going to come for me?" Shadowheart asked sweetly, hand leaving her chest to take her long braid in her hand, tugging it taut. Tav's head falling back with the pull, exposing her long neck.

"Yes," She panted, Shadowheart's lips coming up to lave long licks up her exposed throat, sending shivers down her spine. Limbs feverish, pelvis trembling. "Dont stop."

Shadowheart's fingers sped up, plunging into her viciously. Palm of her hand meeting her clit in rough pulses.

Tav whimpered out a handful of cries, feeling the cord about to snap. Hips moving of their own accord. Feral.

Her hands tangling in Shadowheart's hair as it hit her. A guttural shriek threatening to spill out she shoved her shirt into her mouth, muffling her cries. Like a thousand arrows striking her pelvis it ripped through her. Hips rising and bucking uncontrollably. Her muffled scream bringing a smile to Shadowheart's flushed, fluid slicked face. Pinching her nipple one more time for her own amusement.

Not far behind her Shadowheart picked up her pace, hips fast and hot. The fabric on her thigh thoroughly soaked through. Her breasts moving in tandem with her desperate riding. Eyes screwing shut. Little pleading mewls. Going rigid, her eyes bursting open. Mouth falling slack into a silent scream. Hands gripping Tav's hips as her body trembled, still grinding sloppily into her hard thigh.

Tav saw stars as the high pulled through her. She hadn't come so hard in a long time. Her body so sensitive to touch.

Taking Shadowheart into her shaking arms, burying her face in her neck. Them staying like that for a moment, holding eachother anchor.

"Gods below," She admonished. Looking wild into Shadowheart's eyes.

"I agree," she said, eyes alight with laughter. "You almost killed me Tav."

"Me?!" She scoffed, cradling her face in her hands. Kissing her swollen mouth softly. "I think I saw the after world for a second there." Pulled back. "I dont know how many more near death experiences I can take."

Shadowheart smiled up at her. "No sea water this time though." Hand cupping over hers on her cheek.

"Did you hear?" A worshipper hushed to her friend, carrying their breakfast together.

"What?"

"That lord! Ancunin I think..."

Tav's hackles bristled.

"He killed his whole staff!"

"No! Surely that cant be true!"

"Apparently one of his consorts ran off and he went into a blind rage! Everyone says it's a vampire den, so I believe it. That he's a vampire himself!"

Tav stood, hands trembling as they wandered away. Whispering amongst themselves.

She knew she was safe here, only a trusted handful knowing her identity. To all others she was just another pilgrimage coming to take up rites.

Still, that wording made her anxious. Ran off. Not dead. She knew the rumor mill was not a trusted source, but it made her stomach turn.

"Everything okay?" Shadowheart came up beside her, hand reassured on her forearm.

"Yeah," Tav sighed, taking the fruit she offered her. Picking up her drink as they started to walk. "Just locals making up stories."

"Oh they're always on about something." Shadowheart agreed, taking a bite of the peach she was carrying. The light dappling her silver hair as they went towards their favorite sitting spot. "Last week they said they saw a bronze dragon in a cave nearby." Shooting her a withering look. "It was an owlbear."

Tav laughed, lifting her drink to her lips. Braid swinging behind her. Their feet hushing through the well trodden undergrowth.

"So I was thinking," Shadowheart started as they sat down. "I know bringing a bunch of people here would call attention. But I want to let everyone know you're safe, that you're here." She mused. "I think we can get away with bringing at least one of our old companions around."

Tav smiled. "Aww I'd love to see everyone, especially Karlach! Oh I miss her. But she's still in Avernus with Wyll right?"

Shadowheart nodded.

"Hmm," Tav thought. "I guess I'm realizing I've been gone so long I dont know whose still around." She laughed sheepishly.

"What about Halsin?" Shadowheart offered, sliding her a knowing look. "He's in the Shadowlands but I know he'd drop anything to come see you."

"Oh please," Shadowheart waved away her aghast look. "I remember how you two looked at eachother. Oh he was smitten with you. A puppy following you around camp." She laughed lightly. "While I greatly enjoy your company I think you need to spread your wings. Gods, Tav you've been stuffed away in a castle for years, have some fun." Cradling her face in her soft hand. "And if you decide you want to come back to me, I'd be delighted to have you."

Tears threatening at the edges of her eyes she smiled at her. "I think you're right." Took a shaky breath out. "It's time to live again."

"Fuck it, send for him."

"That's the spirit." Shadowheart cheered and kissed her softly.

~

Part 3

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 9

You know the drill, ISAT spoilers below.

"There! That should help with the itching at the very least." (Mirabelle remarked after healing your arms as best she could, though you can tell in her voice she wished she could do more.)

"… Thanks Mira…"

"Don't even mention it Siffrin, I'm happy to help!… And thank you, for being honest with all of us… I know that must have been hard to share." (She added with a bright smile, one you can't help but smile back at.)

"Of course… We're feelings buddies after all, right?"

"Right!" (You chuckle some, able to tell Mira was hesitating about something… You lift your arms, inviting her into a hug. She practically jumps at the chance! Quickly wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into an almost crushing grip! You choke out some, gasping for air and patting at her back.)

"S-Sorry! I-I just got a little excited." (Her grip quickly lessens, the both of you laughing to yourselves.)

----------------------------------------------------

(The next day you arrive at the next town over. Everyone is nice and rejuvenated after last night's stop, though you're still a bit emotionally drained. The entire town seems to be setting up for something as it comes into view. Large banners and decorations being hung up across buildings, everyone is bringing furniture out into the middle of the road as impromptu party tables and seats.)

"Oh! It looks like they're getting ready for a celebration!"

"We DID just unfreeze most of the country, it makes sense there would be celebrations going on across it."

"And this town gets to celebrate with the saviors themselves!"

"Yeaaaah!! The saviors are in town!!!"

(… Crab… It's all coming back to you now…)

"Uhh… maybe I'll sit this one out…"

"Awww, c'mon Sif it'll be fun!"

"I dunno… I don't really feel very 'savior-y' after everything that happened…" (You say while your head lowers, eyes drifting to the ground.)

"Siffrin…" (Odile starts, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder.)

"You realize we wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, right? Based on everything that happened, I'm not sure we'd have even reached the second floor on our own."

"… Yeah… Yeah you're right…" (You say, only half believing yourself. Based on Odile's look she probably believes that even less than you did. She just sighs and pats your shoulder again.)

"If you're not quite up for being the center of attention we can figure something out, but please understand you played as big a part in this as any of us." (You muster up what you can of a smile and nod.)

"Thanks Odile…

-------------------------------------------------- (You sat in your room at the inn, which was give freely by the owner for the 'Gracious Saviors of Vaugarde'… You never got used to being called that, even after all this time. You look out the window at everyone preparing the festivities, your family being the center of attention. You want to be with them but you know it'd be far too much for you right now… but it would still be nice to enjoy the party a bit otherwise, right?…) --------------------------------------------------

(You take a deep breath and sigh it back out, walking through the busy street without your hat or cloak. The two things that made you stand out as one of the 'saviors'. You felt naked, but it was far better than the overwhelming reaction of being swarmed by 'adoring fans'.)

(You walk along, lightly holding yourself, just looking for anything to distract you. Not much is setup yet, but maybe you could help out? Maybe earn your family some money with little jobs! Yeah, that's a good idea! You look around at various booth's getting setup, finally coming across one that's trying to quickly make costumes, masks, and various other fun fashion for the celebration.)

"Excuse me, uhh.. I was wondering if you might need some help? I'm a bit short on coin and could use some work if you'd be willing to have me." (Wow… you can still talk to people that aren't you family. This surprises you a bit.)

"Oh! That'd be wonderful! Come sit, I'll give you a few silver for each piece you can finish!" (The kind stranger explains, seeming very grateful for the offer.)

(You spend the rest of the day assisting the costuming one, grateful that helping Isa out for so many years made this a cinch. You keep up with your temporary employer with ease, and even carve out some wooden masks as well. The somewhat mindless act of it all helping put you at ease as the party grew ever closer.)

"Thank Change you came along when you did, I have no idea how I was gonna get all this done in time! Here, you deserve a little bonus." (They explain, handing over a sizeable coin pouch, which you graciously accept.)

"Th-Thank you! H-How much for this one by the way?" (You ask, pointing at one of the masks you made, one that's been carved into your own memory. One of those cute little trio ones that always liked to swap around.)

"Oh don't be silly, you made it! Take it, and enjoy the party!" (You nod thankfully and take it, slipping it over your face and venturing off into the crowd to hopefully blend in a bit better.)

(As you wander about, you finally find your family again, still swarmed by a cheering crowd as always. Isa and Bonnie are handling it well, Mira is trying her best.. Odile just looks like she needs a nap, heh... You relate to her very much in this moment. You lift your mask up, managing to meet Isa's gaze in the crowd. You wink, placing a finger to your mouth in a shushing gesture, then lower the mask again. Isa gets a chuckle out of that, seeming to be happy you're enjoying yourself. You caught sight of Mira trying to give you a little wave, it seems she noticed too. You chuckle and return the 'subtle' gesture. You decide to move on again before someone might end up recognizing you.)

------------------------------------------------------

(You spend the rest of the evening mostly enjoying the various dishes prepared, and playing little improvised carnival games, even winning a few prizes in the process and picking up some nice little gifts you found for the party. You finally retreat back to the inn, collapsing onto your bed with a heavy sigh... You're REALLY not used to being this social, but at least this go around was a lot more favorable than the last... You get a bit of a shiver at the memory, breaking down in the middle of the crowd, ruining everyone's good time, especially your families... They deserved a celebration, so you're very glad you didn't ruin it this time.)

"Sif? You in?" (Isa asked after knocking and peeking the door open a hint.)

"Oh, yeah! Come in! I have a little surprise for you!" (You remark excitedly as you quickly sit back up, digging through your bag to find. Isa walks in with a bright smile, covered in little gifts and charms made and provided by the town's occupants.)

"I'm glad you had a good time! Shame you didn't get to be with us out there though."

"Trust me... It was much better off this way... A-Anyways! Come here! Close your eyes!" (You shout excitedly, chuckling as he almost trips, walking over with his eyes covered. You guide him to sit down next to you, moving his hand out and held open, before placing your gift upon it like a pedestal.)

"Okay, you can open em!" (He does, blinking for a moment before seeing the very lovely sewing tools in his hand. A beautifully crafted bright steel set of scissors, needles, an awl, ripper, etc. Isa just stares in awe as he looks over every inch of it all.)

"S-Sif!... Th... This is amazing!? Where did you get these?!"

"Hehe, let's just say I'm REALLY good at carnival games~"

"Sif.... I..." (Isa can't even find the words, tears starting to well up in his eyes. He can't resist any longer, suddenly pulling you into a tight hug, making you emit a sound not unlike a squeaky toy. You just hug back tightly once the initial shock passes. He pulls away some to look you in the eyes... slowly closing his... leaning in... wait... wait no, no this isn't right... this isn't how it happened, it's too soon... is this... is this wrong?... Would this ruin everything?... You're lying to him again... You're doing what you did in the loops! You're forcing it! No, no you can't do this to him again! You quickly pull yourself away at the last second, looking away in shame.)

"I-Isa… I-I'm sorry, I can't…"

"O-Oh! It's fine Sif, we can wait til you're ready, i-if you even want to at all of course! I-it's totally fine if you're not really inter-"

"No!" (You cover your mouth in shock. The word having escaped your throat violently in response to letting him thinking such a thing for even a second.)

"… N-No it's not that… I… I need to tell you something Isa… I-I've been hiding something, a-and I can't… it wouldn't be right if I didn't tell you first…"

"O-Of course Sif… You can tell me anything."

[thestoryden]

Savior, Part 4

Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen!Reader

Warnings: Incest, Sadness, References to Bullying, References to S.A.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I have been trying to work around work to get this out. This is part four in the Savior series and it does need the context of the previous interactions to be fully understood. If you would like to be added to my HOTD taglist please follow the link below. If you would liked to tagged in the next part of this series only please comment below. Thank you for reading.

Masterlist / Taglist / Requests: Open

Savior 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / ?

You recline on a couch in Aemond’s apartments as you sigh heavily. You push back your braids and run your fingers through your loose hair trying to relieve some stress. Aemond is at the door whispering with a servant trying to not disturb you.

After everything you had been through you could not believe that your mother would not hear you out. You want to think that she is sincere in her wishes to not sustain your house’s tradition, but you know that she just wants to fulfill Aegon’s wishes before she even follows her own personal desires.

It did not always use to be like this you think. You remember a time when she treated you like children instead of pawns but it was so long ago and is now faint in your memories. Even though it had been years since Aemond had been injured she was worried that everything was a threat to her family, her power. You sit wishing for peace, for love, and just maybe to have your family back to how it was.

Aemond taps the end of your shoe lightly, “Thinking of something?”

You smile, “Nothing achievable.”

“I know everything seems out of reach right now, but I had something brought up that might cheer you up.” He says softly.

Everything did feel out of reach. It is true, but you did not know what could possibly make you feel better. Aemond holds up a pair of your fur lined slippers. He had gifted this particular set to you two winters back when it had been particularly cold in the castle and Aegon had some servants steal all your shoes so that you would have to walk on the freezing stone. Ever since they had been your favorite shoes to wear and sometimes you would even sneak them to events when it became chilly.

“You remembered?” You say tenderly.

Aemond laughs a bit, “Of course I remember, I was the one who had them made.”

He hands them to you. You sit up to slip them on. There is a pause. The queen’s decision still hangs in the air. Aemond is tense.

“So, what do we do now?” You ask.

“It might be easier to commit treason then worm our way out of mother’s scheming.” He retorts.

“Scheming?” You question, “I mean she may be proactive, but I highly doubt she is already weaving up something. We left her only a short while ago.”

He smiles and holds up a coin. It glints in the light.

“Servants will often bend easy for gold.” He says coolly, “She has already arranged for a private dinner this evening with Larys Strong.”

A frustrated cry escapes you. You seem to have the world at your finger tips and yet you may as well be a caged animal, never to escape from your stone prison. There is a light knock on the door and a serving girl peeks her head in.

“I’ve brought the hot tea you requested, your grace.” She squeaks out.

Aemond waves for her to come in. She moves in a hurried manner and sets the tray on the table in front of you two.

“Would you like me to serve it?” She asks.

“No, this is fine,” You reply.

She walks out of the room with short quick strides. You note her nervousness, but chalk it up to a bad experience she most likely had with Aegon. She is a fleeting kindred spirit.

“I have a plan.” Aemond states, “We marry in secret.”

You take the tea and poor it in to your cup. Lifting it to your lips and letting the steam waft the deep scent up your nose. You feel your senses stir as you drink.

“That is not a plan, merely a goal.” You quip, “How do you propose we should achieve it.”

“If mother won’t take us seriously, someone else must take our side.” He says, “We we’ll send a raven to Rhaenyra and Daemon about our intentions, and join their side if need be.”

Shock reaches across your face. You had never thought of betrayal as a way out. You were so focused on keeping yourself together for the sake of your family that you had not considered making an enemy out of them. You feel a spark of energy and excitement move through your body.

“Let us send two ravens, I will send one to Rhaenyra and you to Daemon, surely if we both ask they will heed our pleas.” You say.  

You know it is a long shot, even your own mother would not listen, but if there was even a chance that Rhaenyra will hear your pleas you had to take it. Previous slights made by Aemond against her children will make the situation harder, but you hope that she hates the Queen more than she does Aemond.

He looks at you then too his desk and fetches a piece of paper, pens, and ink. Without saying a word, he rips the paper into two long pieces, handing one to you. You both dip your quills in ink and begin writing out your messages. You fit as much pleasantry as you can with in the edges of the scroll, while begging for their help.

Your head hangs practically in your lap and your eyes stare into the dark reflection across the pool of tea. Aemond rests his hand on your shoulder. He draws a breath in.

“There is something I must ask.” He says solemnly.

“What is it?” You question.

“Well, I suppose I have not formally asked for your hand in marriage.” He replies.

 “I suppose you have not.” You quip.

Aemond uses his hands to gently turn you, so that you are facing him head on.

“Will you take me as your protector from this day till our last?” He asks.

“I vow that I will.” You reply.

You both want to revel in the excitement of the moment, but your circumstances cast a grave shadow over your shared happiness. Instead, you interlace your fingers with his and sit there. You lean in to each other resting your foreheads against one another. You say nothing to each other and just listen to each other’s soft breaths.

Taglist: @ultarviolence @somemydayy @afro-hispwriter @severewobblerlightdragon @themology @flyingmushroomss @sinlist @isabel2you

[demetris-cocksleeve]

⚠️IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT⚠️

Hey, guys... so I've been writing on here for the last 2 years (almost 3) and while I have loved every second of it I can't do it anymore.

I can't....

...keep Pirate! Bakugo to myself any longer...

Imagine you're running, through shabby alleys and past the cess pools your town calls taverns, weaving through the crowded pathways; a couple of men are chasing you, their angry shouts getting mixed with the hustle of the busy streets. You turn your head to risk a glance at your pursuers- shit, they're closer than you thought.

Just as you turn your head back and go to put once last push into your gait, you slam into something big and solid. The sudden arm in your way clotheslines you and sends you scrambling for anything to keep you upright. Not that you need to- the same arm that sent you reeling now has the front of your shirt, hauling you upright.

"Oi!-" The arm's owner barks out, just to be interrupted by the men chasing you.

"Thank you! This little bitch stole our coin," the shorter of the pair turns his yellowed snarl to your form, still held in the strangers steel-like grip.

"I stole nothing!" You growl back, desperately trying to free yourself. Your nails dig into your captor's wrist, but he remains unfazed.

You finally see his face when he turns to you. His eyes bore into your own as he stares you down. "D'ja take their shit?"

His messy blonde hair casts a scary loom over the top half of his face, almost making his blood reds glow. "I didn't steal anything..." you grunt out, trying to yank yourself free.

"So, you're a thief AND a lia-" The taller accuser snarks.

"Enough," the man holding you says, deadly calm. "She said she didn't steal it, so go."

The men raise their voices, yelling their injustices. The second man makes a swipe at you, trying to tug you away from your newfound savior. In a flash, the man yanks you behind him and clocks him in the jaw, felling him.

The other evidently decides that there are more important things to squabble over because he leaves his companion in the dust, clutching his face.

"Leave." The blonde growls, towering over the guy's pathetic form.

Neither of you moves as he scrambles away, stumbling over himself as he rounds a corner.

Your eyes widen. "Wha-"

Once gone, he turns to look at you. "Where is it?"

"-Don't play games with me. Where is it?"

You huff as you reach into your bra and pull out to coin purse. "How'd you know?"

"Only the guilty run. Now hand it over."

Eyeing his outstretched hand, you contemplate how far you could get if you ran. When he cocks his eyebrow, you relent, handing the bag over. You've done enough running today to last you a lifetime.

"What are you? An undercover constable?"

His face twists into an ugly snarl, "Opposite end o' the spectrum, doll." You watch as he counts out the gold, pocketing a few coins and tossing the bag back to you.

"Don't look at me like that- Pirates don't work for free."

-

Now imagine that each time he comes to port, you end up running into each other. Sometimes figuratively, other times literally (you're very prone to be chased through the streets - it's definitely NEVER your fault, though...).

You've seen him beat people up for looking at him the wrong way, so the confusion never fades about why he decided to help you all those months ago. You've asked, of course, but all you get is a noncommittal grunt or a large palm pushing you away by the face as he trudges past you.

Eventually, the "coincidental" visits turn into gifts- nothing huge, just little trinkets that "I've no use for the damned thing, thought cha might, though..."

Dont ask. I've had this in my drafts for almost 3 years, so I figured I'd just post it, lmao. If there's any grammar mistakes/spelling errors, blame 17 year old me, I didn't proofread this - I just added that first bit🙃

[tmntstorycomp]

It's me, your boy, we back!

Congratulations to our winners for round three!!

Danny Phantom ROTTMNT Crossover

Captainx2

Twin-Sync (More Than You Think)

"Oh but there were six polls, how are there only three winners?"

I KNOW! Crazy ahh :"D

But you know what that means..

FIRST

Prime Leo AU by @darth-sonny and Kitty's TMNT-Verse by @kittynumyum:

A Challenger Approaches - An old friend comes back to halt your fun and try to take back their place!

So who will you face off against?

A Tear in my Eye by @cartoonhostage is back to try and claim a spot in the semi finals!!!

This poll will be posted tomorrow and will last 24hrs, good luck.

SECOND

Empathy is Learned by @alicat54c and Teenage Turtle Ninja Mutants (ttnm) by @idiot-mushroom:

Coin Flip - Massy flips a coin, first name is heads and second name is tails. Winner proceeds to the next round.

Coin Flip Winner: EMPATHY IS LEARNED

We look forward to seeing you in the semi finals :3

THIRD

Sanctuary by @aquietwritingcorner and It's a Complicated Equation by @leilanising-vault-of-knowledge:

A Challenger Approaches - An old friend comes back to halt your fun and try to take back their place!

So who will you face off against?

Saviors of the Yokai by @mostlyvoid-partiallyturtles

Both A Challenger Approaches polls will be posted tomorrow, 10am EDT.

The Midround polls will be posted the day after <3

[xakuprime-4]

So normal about the final shape trailer

It's a perfect chaos stemming from the end of all things, betrayal, loss, desperation, reactions like two sides of a coin - those that keep fighting despite all odds, and those who give up hope, too tired to fight the seemingly inevitable.

Ikora, despite all that had happened and continues to happen, fights against oblivion. Cayde and Crow, a victim and his killer, reborn and fighting side by side despite the past they both remember. The Cabal and the Eliksni, once our enemies, now our greatest allies, all joining hands to fight with us against the Witness and its final shape.

And then, Zavala. The man who had insisted that we keep fighting, who stood as a stalwart defender for centuries, gives up. He sees the destruction that the Witness has brought, he sees his friends fighting to save everything that he's known, he doesn't want to lose them. But he's already lost so much. Cayde was resurrected, but how many other guardians were lost in the time it took to find him? How many people were lost? How many whom he held close were lost, in this never ending battle for survival? The weight of the burden that has been steadily breaking him down, has finally become too heavy, after he insisted on carrying it alone, and now not even the desperate cries of his closest friends and allies may not be enough to save him. Whatever he saw in the Witnesses plan, whatever it said to him in order to convince him to surrender himself and help enact the final shape, must have played on his repressed emotions to the point where he saw the Witness as a savior, not an enemy. Just like what happened with Eramis, when the whirlwind destroyed Riis she blamed the traveler, and the Witness leveraged that to enlist her as a disciple. She has begun to feel regret over her choice, but Zavala won't get the time necessary to feel that regret. Because once the final shape has been fulfilled, there will be no more fear, no more struggle, no more death, and no more life. All will be still, all will be lost, and there will be no room to regret, because there will be nothing, not even a thought.

Also those scenes where the city and its people were petrified and earth became split and segmented was so sick, that's gotta be the best way to show the sheer amount of power a villain has. Can't wait to see how they neuter the Witness for the raid lol.

[funtomfiction]

Kuroshitsuji Manga Spoiler THEORY Time:

I only have the cover so far, but let's take a look at the panels.

To make the whole thing logical and orderly I will start with the lower one.

Finnian

It shows Finnian, who holds the Fenian cycle book in his hands. About the meaning of the book we already know the following.

The twins were read it as children by Vincent.

Finnian was named Fenian by Ciel.

It appears in the F.O.L. orphanage.

Ciel is applied by the viewer and is opposite Finnian. Sebastian is behind Finnian and watches what happens. Finnian sees these two as his saviors, the once that made him into who he is now.

Finnian is generally very loyal to Ciel and protective.

Snake

Snake we see emaciated, dirty with long fingernails, covered only with a blanket and surrounded by his snakes. They all look up at Doll, who reaches out her hand to Snake. Like Ciel, she is turned away from the viewer.

Through these parallels, Doll is given the same meaning for Snake as Ciel has for Finnian, and also his snakes.

So what if...

...this is a clue. We already know how loyal Finnian is to Ciel, so is this an indication that Finnian has a similar relationship to Doll and will therefore turn against our Ciel to be on Doll's side?

Another similarity between the characters is the connection with book names. Finnian's name is based on Fenian cycle, and Snakes are named after famous authors in the Victorian era.

Are the two two sides of the same coin? So similar, friends, and yet will perhaps find themselves on different sides in the end, as enemies?

[flourmelon]

Dark Heir spoilers!!

10/10 this sequel is better than the first 👑

(If you read this series, come yap at me!)

Well, first off, Cyprian’s character did not improve…

Honestly all the Stewards have been hella annoying except for Ettore and maybe Marcus.

(Marcus and Justice btw!?)

Visander and Sarcean plus Phillip!?!? So delicious. I surmised some of the plot twists but totally missed ‘Sandy’. No wonder Visander felt pulled towards Phillip on the ship. But also who doesn’t love our savior Phillip?

So, dude, Sarcean was just going at all of ‘em in the past huh? Anharion, the Queen, and Visander? No wonder they all want him dead lmao!!! Luckily Katherine is gone and Will can focus on James. 😉 (but also that would have been incestuous—tbh this whole book is so incestuous)

I am disappointed by Violet, but then what’s a story without some friendship drama and misunderstandings. I have a feeling she’ll come around sooner rather than later though. She’s the only one who noticed that Will was truly focused on the ‘war’ and not being all Dark King.

James breaks my heart. He’s really the other side of the coin, just like Will. Betrayed by adults and betrayed by friends from a very young age. Talk about trauma. And now he has to prove himself to Will. Sigh. Damn.

And Will… that ending… it’s such a shame that it’ll probably take a whole other book or two for him to realize that James chose him on his own before he got Collared. They’re gonna need to work that out. I really hope James isn’t going to lose all of his personality.

Will is such a badass character. Like for real. This is not one of those books that keep saying how awesome a character is but never actually demonstrates it. Will is the King!!! He is actually smart and powerful.

He’s definitely the ‘King’ in the prophecy, right??

[rucbarthatbowtiesarecooldw]

September 30, 2023 Saturday Morning Session

How Wondrous and Great

How Firm a Foundation

Conducting: President Eyring

Elder David A Bednar

The Stalwart souls who travelled with the last wagons

They of the last wagon pressed forward

Captain Moroni – if more were like him the devil would never have power Alma 48:17

Walk in the path of your duty and press forward

Samuel the Lamanite: most walk clearly

Quiet members who often go unrecognized with their sustaining influence

Reverence the sanctity and importance of Life in God’s plan

Heavenly Father loves those who minister to children with love and unending kindness

Sister Amy A. Wright 1st Counselor Primary

Parable of the ten virgins Matt 25:1-13

Spiritual preparedness and discipleship

Cancer – “everything is going to be okay

At one point it will be too late to put more oil in your lamps – every drop matters now – but remember that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ we will all be ok.

That is the greatest power on earth

Here is your reminder that the Atonement of Jesus Christ covers so many more things than just repentance or helping with forgiveness – it is also there to help us gather strength when filled with pain or sorrow, help us know that we are not alone even in the darkness of our mental health.

Gather and focus light

God with infinite knowledge, love, and glory

We cannot share our oil but we can share His light

We need more holy and revelatory experiences

He is the reason why there is never an end to our story

Eternal Life is Eternal Joy

Look to Jesus Christ and Live – like the story about the people of moses looking to the snake on a staff

I Feel My Savior’s Love

Elder Robert M. Daines, 70

Face blindness from being shot

How do you suffer from spiritual faceblindness?

Do you see Heavenly Fathers love and mercy, or a thicket of rules and thorns?

Spiritual faceblindness = seeing the rules but not recognizing God’s love

Can you sometimes only lipsync and not sing the song of redeeming love?

Does this activity/lesson help people see Jesus?

Also are we being inclusive in how we are presenting the activity/lesson?

Pray and study to see who He is and what He loves

God is completely devoted to His children in every age and nation

They are not rules to earn His love – He already loves you perfectly!

We worship our Father and not a formula

Covenants are the shape of God’s embrace

Elder Carlos A. Godoy, Presidency of the 70

Got in the wrong taxi

Heavenly Father does not do coincidences.

Omar ended up returning, being baptized and baptizing his wife and children, and then were able to be sealed a year later

Felt it was about time to go back to church for the sake of their children

Anything broken can be mended with Jesus Christ

The decision of one will impact whole generations

Not just from someone choosing to leave – also because of what caused them to leave

We should always be asking where will this lead?

Decisions, impact on self and future generations etc.

Shouldn’t we be more valiant and less lukewarm

High on the Mountain Top

D Todd Christofferson

What is the purpose of this gathering?

Protection of the covenant people

A defense and refuge from the storm

He holds the keys to administer in all authority

Keeping a proper and faithful record

Eternal families by the sealing powe

Baptisms and sealings for the dead

Add strength to your chain

Ian S. Ardern 70

Love your neighbor, refugees?

“lets all talk about Africa” – ahhh Uganda

Give to humanitarian efforts – Partners in Health (Green brothers approved donation website)

Compassion is an attribute of Christ, it demonstrates love to others and knows no boundaries

God will guide you in compassionate acts of discipleship

True compassion is more than merely flinging a coin to a beggar, it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs reconstructuring- MLK

Compassion does not require us to know them, it only requires us to love them.

Faith in Every Footstep

President Dallin H. Oaks

Fullness of the Doctrine of Jesus Christ

Heavenly Father loves all His children so much, that He wants us all to live in a kingdom of glory forever.

In our Fathers house is many mansions

Your divine potential has everything to do with God’s love for you, and nothing to do with which glory you might possibly obtain later in life – this is something to be between you and God

You will be where you are comfortable

Do not just go through the motions and make “deposits”  - less of a checklist

He will force no one into a sealing relationship against his or her own will

TW - Plan of Salvation, Family Proclamation

Come Listen to a Prophets Voice

[cruger2984]

THE DESCRIPTION OF THE HOLY NAME OF JESUS The Name Above All Names Feast Day: January 3

"Praised be Jesus Christ!" -Enchiridion Indulgentiarum

In connection with the circumcision and the naming of the Holy Child on the first of January, the Catholic faithful celebrate the feast of the Holy Name of Jesus.

Jesus is a Hebrew name which means, 'God Saves.'

In the Gospel of Luke, the archangel Gabriel revealed the holy name to Mary, when he announced: 'You will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus.'

In the Acts of the Apostles, in order to be saved, we must believe in the name of Jesus, as the apostle Peter said: 'There is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.'

For this reason, all liturgical prayers conclude with the words: 'Through Our Lord Jesus Christ.'

Perhaps the greatest promoter of the Holy Name of Jesus was St. Bernardine of Siena, who coined the Latin Christogram, 'IHS', which stands for Iesus Hominum Salvator, which means 'Jesus, savior of men.'

At the end of his sermons, he usually displayed the IHS on a tablet in gold letters, and would ask the faithful to kneel in adoration. The devotion to the Holy Name became so popular, that the IHS was inscribed in churches, sacred vestments, and on the Eucharistic bread.

[livesworthlivingau]

Behind the Vale Chapter 11

ISAT Spoilers below! Two-Hats Implied! CW: overeating/nausea

"So if you don't mind me asking… what… are you, exactly?" [Your new travelling companion asks while you fiddle with the terribly drab cloak tied around your neck. We simply must find a better outfit soon...]

"Oh you know... Just your average traveler who caught a shooting star, swallowed it whole~!" [The cadence of your voice does a fantastic job making it even more unbelievable than it sounds. We don't lie after all, it's not our fault everyone just assumes that~]

"... Riiight... So how'd you end up with Bonnie? And the rest of the saviors I assume? I don't remember hearing about any walking star travelling with them."

"I just ran into them one day... honestly it was pretty similar to how we met. A big nasty sadness was about to go after their fighter, so I just swooped in to save the day~. It was a lot more impressive back then since I didn't pass out after~." [You giggle to yourself a bit. Your story stops for a moment, before you realizing that Nille is still eagerly listening in... Stars, she wants more... how far are we going to let this go Vale?... You sigh before continuing]

"They all invited me to join them on their little quest to save the country... it didn't exactly work out by the end though..."

"... You don't have to talk about it if you don't wanna... Did anything happen between you and Bonnie though?..."

"No, no, nothing like that... I just... I wasn't strong enough to stick it out to the end is all~." [You almost choke out, struggling heavily to keep up your cheery demeanor. She notices it slipping, but drops the subject none the less.]

"Well I think the next town isn't too far away, I don't have a lot of coin on me but maybe I can do some odd jobs and we can get you some nicer clothes."

"Oh you don't have to do that, this cloak is fi-"

"Look, you might not have a mouth, but that look on your face wasn't that hard to pick up on." [She chuckles some as your expression drops to annoyance. A new outfit would be nice, though...]

"Fine, fine, if you insist~. I could use a real meal first thought, I can't remember the last time I've had real food, no offense."

"Hey, none taken, like I said before I ain't the chef of the family."

"Well let's hurry along then, I'm already starving again... how often are you supposed to eat again anyhow?" [Her only response is a heavy belly laugh... until realizing you were actually being serious.]

"Oh man, that star really did mess with yah, didn't it?"

"You don't know the half of it~!"

-----------------------------------------------------------

[The delicious scent of various kinds of foods floods your sense, you'd be drooling if it didn't evaporate away so quickly. You simply start digging in as you shovel bite after bite into your featureless face, confusing anyone who watches. You didn't care how many looks you got, you were starving and this was heaven~.]

"Hey now! Pace yourself Vale, don't wanna get yourself sick!" [Nille protested, trying to get you to slow down like the concerned older sister she was used to being. You took no heed of her caution, continuing to scarf down every last bite provided by the gracious food stands in town. Nille's valiant tale of proclaiming you as her savior earned up plenty of pity food, and you're far too hungry to protest.]

"I don't care, this is the first real food I've had in who knows how blinding long!" [You gargle out between bites, causing Nille to give a defeated facepalm and just watch annoyedly.]

[You finally finish your massive feast, while Nille enjoyed what were effectively your scraps. You sigh in delight and slump over onto the table, looking oh so satisfied.]

"Oh stars, I needed that... Any who, let's find some work, shall we~?" [You stand up quickly, before a wave of nausea rushes over you, painting across your pained face. You topple over and grip your stomach with one hand, covering the featureless lower half of your face with the other. Nille just bursts out laughing.]

"Hahaha!! I told you so! You rest up and let your stomach settle, alright? I'll find some work to do, maybe you can join me later if you're up for it." [Yet again, you're stuck accepting the pity of others, just trying your best to lie still to avoid upchucking all that delicious food...]

"Rffff... a-alright..."

------------------------------------------------------------

[Once your stomach has finally settled, you blinding idiot, you join Nille in helping restore old and rusted tools around the town. They had weathered heavily due to the lack of care for months and months with the king's curse plaguing the land. Nille uses her trusty hammer and some Craft to forge thing's back into a sturdy shape, while you sharpen all the blades with a whetstone and simple Wish Craft ritual... It feels very wrong to be playing with this type of craft again, but this level of it feels fairly harmless...]

[The two of you make a decent haul of coin for your efforts, staying up in the inn for the night before you'd continue your new journey as travelling companions. You lie in your own bed across from Nille's, slowly closing your eyes to drift off to-]

"Hey Vale?..." [... or not...]

"Why yes Nille, how can I help you~?"

"... Do you think Bonnie's doin' okay? I don't know how long it's been since you've seen them but... I'm just worried about 'em."

"... Bonnie is doing wonderful. They're surrounded by loved ones and could not be more eager to see you again."

"You really think so?..."

"No, Nille, I know so~." [You respond with a wink, giving a tired stretch and yawn.]

"Now let's get some rest, I've got a big day of outfit planning tomorrow and need my beauty sleep~." [She chuckles some more in response, turning over to settle in for bed.]

"Thanks Vale... g'night."

"Good night, Nille~."

[thequeendomhq]

The Stumble Inn

“Our hero- Our hero- Claims a warrior’s heart-”

“I tell you, I tell you, Manetheren comes.”

“With a Heart wielding power Of the ancient King’s heart-”

“Believe, believe, Manetheren comes.”

“It’s an end to the Dark One, So beware, beware, Manetheren comes.”

“For the darkness has passed, And the legend yet grows. You’ll know, you’ll know, Manetheren comes.” - A ballad by Alessandra Fraioli

In a Lysaran staple on the outskirts of Eterna, a warm fire crackled from the heart of the Stumble Inn. Last call round the fire and there were only a few wayward standards left but the dedicated barflies that would be peeled off the tavern floor come dawn. It was they, and those just packing up their kits to see themselves home, enjoying the bard’s final song as Alessandra Fraioli played her gilded lute.

She, too, was a staple of Eterna. An artisan of the Great Game, her status in The Harmonium is unknown to all, elusive, secretive, and sought after from Caribella to Sinaria. Now and again Alessandra stopped along the road without notice, bringing with her a small crowd as she played her lute into the small hours of the night.

For now, she set the lute aside as her violet eyes appraised the crowd, soaking in their applause as another drink landed in front of her. Alessandra didn’t need their coin, as far as the world knew her debts were paid - considering her rates, they had to be. As the crowd died the ambiguous elvhen creature smiled, some called her a faiman, others claimed her from a distant line, but like so much of the bard’s life, her nature was shrouded in mystery.

“To end the evening, I offer a tale: be weary gentle listeners, lest it send you to your dreams with a scare.”

“Our story begins with the Mad King: Orhan Gökhan and the Iskaran curse. The Hand who traded his soul for status, the Princess who consorted with the blight, and the Heir who runs from every battle.”

“This is not the romantic tales constructed by my dear friend Sappho, nor the idioms by the mythologist Homeo. We venture into a realm of cruelty and savagery because our neighbours have never known any other way.”

“It’s a common tale, and a sad one really. Cruelty begets cruelty and violence begets violence. Brave, stubborn Iskarans running with their tails between their legs. Fleeing like dogs from a storm stoked by the flames they long ignored. Aetheron has returned, those with a bastion in the sky: they who broke the world returned to mend it, to right the wrongs of the past as liberators and saviors.~”

“~Magic did not break the world. The Dark One did. Witches did not cause the Blight. The Dark One did. Can anyone tell me who is more friendly with the dark, those who’d sentence good people to a life of hard labor and imprisonment - or those who would break their chains.” Alessandra laughed, “~I know what I would choose. I would not choose to damn someone by virtue of their birth, but I might send them to the Tower: I might introduce them to the Laurelin. I might take their hand and help them along their path. Any Lysaran worth their salt knows the adage of the Legionnaires: there is only one battle that matters, the battle between the light and the dark.”

Alessandra seemed to settle into the tale, she’d stood in the halls of Yggdrasildal under a glamor of disguise, had played the harp for Arethusa and held tea with the Divine. Rumors one and all, she played the Game she’d been born for. “It was quiet in the Southlands, save for the distant toil of pickaxes against silver, the fog stretched silence over the land with fingers akin to the ore that the Iskarans forced their own people to mine.”

“When suddenly! Fire bannered across the sky, it drenched their shores, washed like the tide, and BROKE against the land. Liberation at last! Came the cry of our kind, for the first time in an age Iskarans ran while the miners chased after them, brandishing the weapons of their indentured servitude, screaming ‘WE WILL NEVER BE TAKEN AGAIN!”

“Orhan Gökhan.Mad King Orhan Gökhan.” She whispered so the crowd would be forced to hear. “The Mad High King Orhan Gökhan, when he was just a boy his father called him soft, delicate, because he preferred to torture his people rather than see him restrained. His father needed an heir though, a boy you see because as we all know, in Iskaldrik, women aren’t fit to rule.”

“The Mad High King who killed his only friend: poor Cnut was a noble son, as good as they can be as far as Iskarans are concerned. Orhan had him restrained and poured hot oil over him just to set him on fire, and watch the boy burn. He’d never seen it up close, and he liked it.”

“Then came the Raven Feeder, the dark sword of the Astorian battlefield. One look at the Mad King’s tactics and he saw his opportunity, finding a crossroads and selling his soul: yes, a Darkfriend of all things. That is what his people say. One that has had the Mad King’s ear for years. In the shadows he whispers the will of the Dark One, bringing forth entertainment for the Mad King’s sick delight. To his credit he has no penchant for cruelty, his constitution so weak that he shrinks at even the sight of a dog. But even cowards can have ambition.”

“Ambition to…. Do whatever they must to get their way. To placate Madness with a madness of their own, this is why they say The Hand speaks for the Mad King, but he speaks also for the Dark One. Sitting idle while magic stays in chains and witchers assault the Iskaran people.”

“They say that the Princess inherited her father’s madness. One look at her and you can see it written all over her face. They say that as the people of Iskaldrik fled screaming, she delighted in their terror, and at Nornwatch Keep they whispered of her butchery. Carving away at blighted flesh, eating it raw like some ghoul skittering about the dark.” A man in the corner lost his supper as Alessandra spoke, “She, perhaps, is most dangerous of all, because unlike her father she’s a pitiable creature: a woman born of Iskaldrik, someone who can hold nothing in her hands but an ax she wields like a monster. Cannibal and fiend, the Princess did not need to sell her soul to become a darkfriend, she was the Dark One’s by choice.”

“Last is the great coward, the sniveling son that looks nothing like his father.” Alessandra smiled as she said this, “An heir that can’t hold the crown, who can’t even hold a sword, and was sired from the seed of a servant. Why else would his mother have run if not to flee from the Mad King’s ire? It was the road or certain death, torture, or perhaps worse.” The distasteful look on Alessandra’s face was mirrored by the people. “Worst of all is that he knows, he knows he’s unworthy, he knows the Hand serves the dark, he knows his half-sister is a beast, and he knows that the man who is not his father is mad. What’s worse, I ask you? To be born a mad beast, or to simply allow its cruelty?” Alessandra shook her head, “At Nornwatch the Heir was not seen, not a trace of his steps, save perhaps for when the fighting was done - hiding behind the shelter of the Mad King’s name.”

“Where are they now…?”

“Why, in the Lostlands. Knocking at our borders, and crawling from the dark. Iskaran dogs, draped in hunger, blight, and sickness. This is the Dark One’s missive: to see his curse spread across our Queendom, and perhaps he’ll succeed.”

“Who’s to say?”

“Who will be the hero of this age?”

“Who will stop the Dark One before it’s too late.”

“Yes, that’s right: this story is unfinished.”

Alessandra landed on the floor from the table and scooped the hat up off the edge from where she’d placed it down, she walked toward the door and held it aloft before hesitating.

“~ and don’t forget to tip your barmaids,” she tossed a wink toward the owner and disappeared into the night.

Lost in the Lostlands

Vast and expansive, the Lostlands are a treacherous swampland, uninhabited by humans and known for being a region of great mystery and danger. Technically a region of Iskaldrik, the remote area is difficult to traverse and protected by mountains on almost all sides. It was once said that it was here where the Isseya discovered the secret of the blight, and here where the Old Gods first traveled as they took to laying waste to the continent.

Despite its northern region, the air is thick with humidity, and sulfur pits churn beneath the murky bogs, releasing toxic gasses and mingling with the perpetual fog that lines the stagnant waters. Visibility here is obscured as a result and the veil is remarkably thing - making it easy for creatures like spirits, devils, and demons to press against it.

From the loose sediments beneath the muck, twisted, gnarled trees with protruding roots like skeletal fingers ride from the murky waters. Their branches covered in a dense canopy of moss and vines block out much of the sparse sunlight from above. These trees tower above, spiraling and twisting upon one another, casting the bogs of the Lostlands in shadow and perpetual twilight.

What ground that the troupe finds is a deceptive mix of soft, sucking mud and shallow pools of stagnant water. Poisonous insects dwell within, taking advantage of the still waters as necrotizing illnesses linger across mosses and fungi alike - which says nothing of the peril surrounding even the amphibians. Beneath the surface are treacherous sinkholes and quicksand pits, one wrong step can lead to disaster - or the loss of a limb in a hasty escape.

Dangerous creatures teem in the waters: venomous snakes move silently through the reeds, and predatory alligators lurk just below the surface, their eyes barely visible above the waterline. Occasionally, the guttural croaks of unseen frogs and the haunting calls of night birds break the oppressive silence, watching the troupe as they make their way through the dark fog.

Elven ruins predating the broken veil poke out of the water’s surface, some buried, completely as the bones of this old world. If the stones ever knew what they were, they’ve long forgotten now. Sporadically littered across the Lostlands, the air around them holds a sweetness, but is overpowered by the scent of decay and still waters.

Now and then wisps of light blink over the horizon, visible even through the fog. The witches spared this advice to those who traversed this region: do not stray from the path, and do not follow the lights: If you are approached by a stranger, do not give them your name, do not accept their help, and do not offer to help them.

In the Lostlands compasses spin wildly, the only true sense of direction can come from following a predetermined path.

Those who wander may be lost forever.

At one such ruinous bastion, the camp has settled amid the fog as they await the distant rise of lanterns and revelry. The King would rendezvous here, the legionnaires claimed as much, as had the witchers who knew this terrain well. It was here that prismatic light began to filter from the sky above, it fell like a dome over the fog and landed in the distance, a beacon at the border of the ruined village.

Magic, clearly, but what kind? One soul was foolish enough to try and was reduced to ash.

The Iskarans were trapped within their own borders.

The Quest

As the women of The Ones Taken by the darkspawn battled their way from the catacombs below the wastelands, traversing the frigid tundra and contesting a region with a sundered veil: they might have died several times, but the five Daughters of Manetheren awakened something within themselves: Hrimthur’s Heart. The scouts for The King’s Road made their way through the mountains. An avalanche had already divided his forces, some were cut off from the King’s Army, while another was sent into an underground system of caves, these were The Ones Lost. 

Together at the mouth of Ymir’s Northern Spine, at the foot of Isengrim’s Embrace, The Ones Taken and The King’s Road were reunited but were halted by Magister Anthin and her siblings, along with her daughter - the five-headed dragon Tiamat. Their Archon told them to conquer Iskaldrik and to find out everything they could about the Blight, a task that soon became personal as Anthin’s brother was revealed to have contracted the taint. 

No blood was spilled between them, but the interaction was cut short when darkspawn attacked the party. The magisters vanished as Tiamat took off over the mountains, in clear search of High King Orhan: their plan for him was clear, he’d be brought back to Yggdrasildal, but kept under their control. 

The Ones Lost made their way through the caves, battling frostbiters and giants before their leader stood in their path. A blademaster and spellsword, the storm giant was once a trusted ally and friend of King Hrimthur, resolved to smite them where they stood, the group managed to escape through an eluvian. The Sword stood in the giant’s way, securing the others escape, and awakening something within: Hrimthur’s Heart.

With a blighted dragon slain, The Princess proved herself every bit her father’s daughter before a member of the party opened a door for them to escape - transporting the troupe to the Lostlands, rejoining those who traveled away from the High King. They now camp within an ancient ruin at the edge of the Lostlands, their way blocked by a prismatic field that is far thicker than the one they encountered previously. 

The Ones Lost moved as a smaller force, more capable of navigating the mountains, to reunite with the High King, but what they came upon was ruin and disaster instead. The army that Orhan had gathered was decimated with few survivors, as Tiamat ascended they pursued, but were halted by Magister Aelthryth: she declared herself The Blade of the Golden House of Minrathous, and in ten-thousand years she’d never known defeat. Bested and left for dead, The Sword lost his arm in the altercation before The Ones Lost were recovered by the divided forces and transported in critical condition to The Lostlands.

The High King has been taken by Aetheron, and the entirety of the Iskaran refugees have now gathered in The Lostlands, but they’re trapped within. 

The Legion of the Dead had dwindled over the years, and one of The Ones Lost remained sick with the blight: The Gaze. Secrets of The Joining were tightly guarded, but The Oathsworn and The Devout gathered what they needed from the blighted dragon before departing for The Lostlands. The Gaze underwent The Joining, as a witcher she was sworn to defend Iskaldrik, and as a member of the Legion of the Dead she was now sworn to spend the rest of her life battling the blight. 

The Princess stepped forward afterwards, willingly joining The Legion of the Dead after all that she had endured: it was said that the Legion could not rule, that they didn’t carry titles, perhaps she would be the first. 

The door is open for any other members of The Ones Taken to join The Legion of the Dead. 

Munin activated a phylactery ring and took over the body of a nearby darkspawn, he still lives, but will take time to recover his strength. 

Lilith used her blood manipulation to reconsitute her body elsewhere, she lives, and now holds a vendetta after one of her swords was taken from her: she still has six more.

ooc info:

The dramatic conclusion of TQH Troupe 1: Road to Our Queendom will be posted on Friday, June 21st at 8pm EST.

A barrier has been erected over the entirety of Iskaldrik, it is inaccessible by land, sea, and even underground. Imagine a very large, prismatic dome has covered the entire of the Kingdom. Anything that tries to pass through it is immediately incinerated.

Individuals making their way TOWARD the Iskaran refugees will be stopped by the barrier.

Refugees making their way FROM Iskaldrik will be stopped by the barrier.

They can communicate verbally across the barrier, but any spells will be refracted off of it. Painfully.

The story told by the bard has spread quickly across Taravell, public opinion is that The Heir may not be Orhan's son, High King Orhan has lost his mind, The Hand is a darkfriend, and The Princess is as unhinged as her father (missing eye binch).

The refugees are not yet aware of the bard's tale, but the rest of Iskaldrik will have heard it by now.

All the Iskaran refugees are now in The Lostlands together.

The Quests for Troupe 1 have ended, thank you all so much for participating, I had the best time <3

[witchofthesouls]

AYO! Listen, Cyber!Earth where the old appearance of humans become supernatural, paranormal, and/or creatures of folklore? As well as some examples of the monstronsites upon this new/old/reborn Earth/Gaea.

The world may had decreed that Cybertronians may live on its surface, but whether or not the offworlders, these so-called conquerors and saviors, shall thrive is up to their own actions. The oceans are still water; not a massive source of Energon that the Decepticons had hoped. The atmosphere still exists and far more wild and temperamental: scorching heat, killer humdity, random blizzards, and violent storms. The fauna mimics their old forms, full of vitality and various fuels… and quite toxic and venomous without the proper preparation.

Humans throughout the ages attempted to describe the nature of the planet and its relationship, exploring by alchemical, scientific, religious, and philosophical means. They had coined the phrase: survival of the fittest and it describes well Earth’s demands of resilience to its provided environments. Just they discovered the means to harness deadly wildlife for their own uses: consumption, industry, and medical.

Earth did not hail from Primus. Sleeping and distant and barren after so long. Unable to rejuvenate itself. No. Earth is born from Unicron. The Void sleeps deep within its very essence. Even with a cataclysmic event, it shall continue to roll on (and on and on and-)

It is, however, a reflection. It seen these exhausted wandering souls, strangely foreign and bizarrely familiar, and their longing for home and it recalls blazing Megatronus Prime -its claimed/stolen/Fallen Primordial had done well long, long ago.

Yes, it sings out. Become one with me, astra meo, fallen and lost and now mine.

Prove yourselves.

 < You should have questioned why this planet was teeming with relics of your civilization? Did you truly attribute it as merely coincidence? Did you really think that there was nothing here? Your ignorance will not save you now. >

Chickadee isn’t an outliner; beneath the bone mask, his face is much like a human’s. Soft and plush compared to the Cybertronians’. Seems like real skin and hair. It’s extremely bizarre with the luminous glow of his optics, his pleased smile of sharp, metal denta, and the contrast of that soft face with its marks of moles and freckles with the obvious cabling of his neck. Chickadee has been among the fae with his father for a long while, but he remembers his mortal mother’s face and can’t part away from her dimples and nose.

Humanity is still remembered. Humanity is still loved and feared and coveted and < It is the ouroboros between you and me and us and ours. Are we not perpetual reflections of each other? Grotesque and alluring? Wretched, yet divine? How we wish to cherish and consume the essence of the immortal and the transient? Nothing but green-eyed beasts and ravenous monsters when crossed with temptation? >

It’s hard to say where it began. Is it the nature of the fae? The innterconnectivity of all thing on Earth? The innate social drives of humans that diluted to Others? But-

This is love. Bones and flesh and memory given life by actions. The way a student will curl their letters like their favorite teacher. The passing of family recipes from adult to child across generations. The carryover method to find the best produce by a friend. The mannerisms a child will take from their parents. In the picked-up habits of spontaneous lessons by the neighbor or a random stranger.

This is how the fae love. Dreams and nightmares are upon the spectrum of inspiration and obsession. (They venerate art. And art can be found in anything. Beauty taking a multitude of methods and forms.) Appearances and glamors and behavior for imitation is a form of flattery, is it not? They are shapeshifters at their core. Is it truly a surprise they will take on an old mortal beloved’s form or their face? Their kin, their spouse, their friend’s, the list is endless. 

Cybertronians find it beyond strange and disturbing to find human faces with their bodies made of different materials. Bird cages and tree bark. The deliberate exposure of Clockwork inner-workings of gears and pins and cables. The subtle sounds of chimes and tickticktick and shifting, voluminous robes. A void of shadows with a mask of delicate enamel porcelain with its lovely, ever-changing hues upon its eerily crafted face of humanoid features. One figure appeared out of old paper pages within lost library…

As well as the various sizes. While some take on human’s natural height, many can easily match Optimus or even outsize him, towering above all to reach the sky itself…

Some of their new-blood descendants, their newest claimed hybrids of new metal and that old burning potential, will take on snippets of their forgotten lives. Like half-remembered dreams in a body that is and isn’t theirs. The color of their old skin and eyes. The comfort to be clothed in garments. The search for a certain kind of animal companion. The odd-struck nostalgia of a certain smell or taste and the consuming need to find it because < what are we but the sum of memory and thought? We are wild things at heart, and hearts yearn for such soft, distant dreams of yesterday and tomorrow as well as blood. Does it matter whose? >

The empty sprawl of cities of steel and concrete are timeless spaces. Liminal and haunting with the endless rows of broken and decrepit skyscrapers. Empty with only the plantlife making its fierce strides to compete with the available nutrients and space. Large amounts of Energon crystals are detected from such places…

On the empty roads and bridges to the cities, there are humans watching the distant view and disappear between blinks. Some are hitchhikers. Once or repeated over and over. Grateful for a ride but forgetful on what happened, their family never showed up to the airport/the bus left/they were ditched/the car stopped/so many reasons but not what truly what happened.

The few fae-touched that returned to the Decepticons immediately know  that such places are graveyards and nurseries of < Do you truly wish to know? > unspeakable things.

Parrots aren’t the only species that can mimic sounds and voices. Humans are entertained and enchanted by individuals that do fantastic impressions, mirroring the tones, pitch, and the unique vocal quirks. A lure. A warning. 

The silence is oppressive. No animal ventures into these places. Only ghosts and plants. Branches and brushes reach towards the sky like hands-

Yes. Many hands. Many figures. Small and vaguely humanoid shape of distorted metal decorate the scenery. But there should be more. Far more. Millions upon millions within these cities and where did they go…

The last thing the intial scout teams would remember are the horrifying and nauseating echoes of < WHERE ARE YOU/PLEASE-I-CAN’T/ help-me/help-us / papa-I’m-cold / oh- gods-please-I’ll-pay-anything-anything-ANYTHING / so-hungry / LOOK THERE /YOU / Ÿ̷͚̯̫́̓͠O̸̹͗͠U̷̖̿̊̄ͅ ̵͕̬̯̓D̶͔̙̰͒I̴̧̋̓D̶̐̍͘͜ ̸̤́T̴̟̊H̷͉̽͋̚I̴̳͂͊͗S̵̫̯͕̒̀̍ / c̵͕̱̺̽͝o̸͉̬͛̾̈m̸̧̭̦̑̎͒e̸̞̿̿̆ ̶͕̦͗͒̃h̴͙́e̶̡̺̒͝ͅr̷̢͉̤͑ḛ̴͐>

No matter the weather and climate. These places remain cold. So very cold. A constant wonderland of broken metal, ice, and snow with a miasma of innermost Energon.

Whatever hunts and haunts these places refuse to leave the city boundaries. An amalgamation of numerous limbs, thousands upon thousands of flickering light within its undulating, massive form as it stretches out-

Something splatters nearby it, quivering lanky limbs with an emaciated body, eldritch optics of empty black and a yawning maw for a mouth.

Sparkeater

There are strange diners and sleepy, little towns along the wide stretches of road. Even on scavenged or saved maps, such things didn’t exist. Just pockets of places hidden away and pop up at random.

Waitresses and cooks take no notice of strange customers. Not even batting an eye to Cybertronians that stumbled across them. The Autobots are perturbed to enter an obviously human-made structure that’s manned by human staff, but everything is sized up to Cybertronian height, even the people.

These places serve food. Even Energon. In a multitude of forms beyond the typical cube. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was a unique experience to finally taste the fluffiness of pancakes and sweet syrup as well as the dishware and cutlery the children would bring to the base.

Each window has a different view.

The towns are active at night. Lights bright in the dark as people work, rest, and play. Like the diners, no one takes a double-take at the metal visitors, just a glance before going back to their own activities. 

There something beneath these towns where their denizens have shifting eyes and laughing shadows.