#they fixed it and bided their time to see when they should trigger it again

[anachronistic-falsehood]

OK i still don’t think it’s a DID situation going on here with qcellbit and fcell (at least i hope it’s not) but i am thinking. maybe it’s a sleeper agent kinda thing. winter soldier type beat yk??? and if it IS then IMAGINE THE IMPLICATIONS of the federation doing this to him and having control over when he acts that way i’m going to go feral

[justlin22]

Doctor's Appointment

Dr. Zayne x Reader (Post Breakup)

_________________________

He broke up with you, and it cut deep. The Chief Surgeon of AKSO shattered your heart—the very heart he once swore to protect with every fibre of his being. How dare he pull the trigger and claim defeat in his own battlefield? He had no right to raise the white flag after only two years. But today, you had to face the man who was once the alpha in your eyes but had now fallen from grace. Today was your annual check-up with your primary physician, Dr. Zayne himself.

It was almost laughable that the one who saved your heart had also broken it, and now he was the one trying to piece it back together. You entered his office with your medical report in hand, wearing your usual hunter uniform and your pride—what little remained. Your eyes met his, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. You managed a faint smile before sitting in the hot seat by his desk. A swirl of emotions—sadness, anger, a sliver of something else—tightened in your chest. You didn’t know which would surface before his ever-cold demeanour.

As you passed his desk, he held his usual stoic expression. You nearly gagged at the sight of that mask, knowing all too well what lay beneath. He was surely thrilled to see you again, despite his façade. Meeting your gaze again must have cost him less pride than breaking it. "Asshole," you muttered in your head.

"Sit," he ordered, gesturing to the chair beside his desk.

The command struck a nerve. Your heart burned. Even now, he wielded authority over you like you were a child. You bit your tongue, determined not to lose your composure, and sat.

He picked up your medical report, flipping through the notes slowly, as if savouring each moment. It felt like an eternity beside him. You caught him stealing glances at you. By now, you were sure he had some inappropriate thoughts running through that handsome head of his. His legs shifted restlessly—left, right, up, down. You rolled your eyes.

He placed the stethoscope around his neck and rolled his chair closer, closing the distance to check your heart. “I need to listen,” he said, his tone steady. You unbutton your shirt, revealing the singlet underneath, your skin exposed for his assessment. The cold steel of the stethoscope grazed your skin, and your breath hitched. His grip on the stethoscope tightened slightly, betraying the struggle beneath his composed exterior. His head hovered near your chest, and he didn’t dare to look up. You glanced down at him and felt a wave of disgust at the sight you once loved. You could almost hear his heartbeat, quickening in his chest. Your presence alone was enough to make this man weak, lost in his own recollection of claiming your body. He lingered longer than necessary, listening to your heartbeat as if savouring a forbidden memory.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he ordered, his voice controlled, masking the turmoil within. His composure grated on your nerves. How dare he hide so well behind that calm exterior? You wanted nothing more than to tear down that facade, to force him to reveal his real emotions, raw and unguarded. 

A swirl of thoughts danced in your mind: Should you tease him, test his restraint? Remain passive, letting him lead this unsettling encounter? Or push back, confront him with aggression? You decided to bide your time, choosing submission—for now. Let him think he's in control. You would watch his every move, every flicker of emotion that slipped through his carefully maintained mask, ready to act when the moment was right.

You took a deep breath, your chest rising and falling under his gaze. His eyes remained fixed, but you caught the slight bob of his Adam's apple, betraying a crack in his stoic demeanour. Slowly, he moved the stethoscope across your chest, and the brush of his fingertips grazed your skin in between. His breath, warm and uneven, fanned across your exposed skin. It was a subtle but deliberate move, one that did not go unnoticed. A sly tactic indeed.

“Take another deep breath for me,” he commanded, his voice low and steady. His head hovered even closer to your chest, so near it felt as though he wanted to press his ear directly against your skin. You obliged, drawing in a deep breath, feeling the rise and fall of your chest. As you inhaled, his hand slid to your back, as if to steady your posture, a gesture that felt far too intimate.

You rolled your eyes, a wave of disgust washing over you at the sensation of his touch and the warmth of his hand. The very closeness that once made your heart race now left you cold, reminding you of the betrayal hidden beneath his stoic exterior.

Satisfied with what he heard, he leaned back and removed the stethoscope from his ears, placing it on the table with deliberate slowness. He picked up your medical report and began jotting down notes, his eyes flicking up to steal glances at you—as if he were checking for any reaction, searching for a crack in your composure. Each lingering look felt like a probing question, a silent dare, and it sent a cold shiver coursing down your spine, spreading to your feet. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken words and the tension that hung between you both.

“Your arm, please,” he commanded, his voice steady yet with an underlying tension. You rolled up the sleeve of your shirt and extended your arm toward his desk. Before you could place it down, his hand captured your arm, holding it with a firm, possessive grip. His other hand moved slowly, fingertips brushing along the veins, lingering as if savouring the feel of your skin. His touch wasn’t hurried or clinical; it was deliberate, exploring more than necessary, sending a ripple of unease up your spine. It was as if he were trying to sense more than just your heartbeat—searching for a reaction, a sign of what you might be feeling beneath the surface.

You shot him a cold, unyielding stare—the classic resting bitch face—making it clear you were unamused by his touch. It was as if you had erased all memory of his warmth, every tender moment now buried under layers of indifference. You refused to give him what he seemed to crave—a reaction, a sign that his touch still had any effect on you. Instead, you held your ground, your expression hardened, denying him the satisfaction of knowing he could still stir something within you.

After the checkup, he jotted down notes on your medical report, but you could feel his eyes on you—stealing glances, more frequent and lingering than before. It was clear he was unsatisfied, frustrated even, by your lack of response to his lingering, intimate touches. His demeanour remained controlled, but there was a hint of irritation in his movements as he began to ask you a series of questions, more than he would normally ask.

“Did you get enough rest?” he asked, his tone almost demanding. You nodded, keeping your expression neutral, not even granting him the satisfaction of hearing your voice.

“Are you eating properly, following the recommended diet?” Another nod, your silence growing louder with each question.

“Are you getting regular exercise?” Yet another nod.

“Have you experienced any uneasiness with your heart?” he pressed, watching you closely. You shook your head, giving nothing away.

Each answer was brief, a nod or a shake of your head—never a word. You refused to give him what he seemed to want: a reaction, a sound, anything that might break the cold, impassable wall you'd put up. His questions seemed to dig for something deeper, but you kept your responses simple and detached, denying him even the chance to hear your voice.

He set his pen down, visibly unsatisfied with your responses, even though you had answered everything. His frustration was palpable, his eyes narrowing slightly as if recalculating his approach. Without a word, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small flashlight, turning back to you with a determined look.

“I need to check your eyes,” he said, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of something more—a persistence that felt almost too personal.

He rolled his chair forward swiftly, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand cupped your left cheek, his thumb gently brushing the skin beneath your eye with an unexpected tenderness. His touch lingered, and your eyes met his. His face was so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. In his green eyes, you caught a swirl of conflicting emotions—sadness, longing, desire, and regret—a vulnerable mix you rarely saw from him.

For a moment, it felt like words failed him; his gaze bore into yours, searching desperately for any flicker of emotion, any sign that you felt something too. His hold was firm yet uncertain, as if he were balancing on the edge of a precipice, waiting for you to either push him over or pull him back. His need for a reaction was almost tangible, the air thick with tension as he tried to read what was hidden behind your guarded eyes.

Your lips hovered near his, close enough to feel the heat between you. Then, in a heartbeat, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It was intense and raw, a kiss that poured out everything he couldn't say—his longing, his regret, his unspoken desire.

[jahduh]

Title: Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2,224

Triggers: self-harm, cutting, suicide

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You were staggering - the knife in your leg the cause. This hunt had not gone as expected… and Dean was furious. You removed the blade from your leg and quickly wrapped your torn sleeve around it to stop the bleeding.

Without looking at Dean or Sam, you said “I’ll meet you in the car”, and stormed away. You knew there was going to be hell to pay and you weren’t looking forward to it. Dean was going to rip you a new one for messing up yet another hunt. This should have been easy, but you just had to get in the way.

The drive back to the bunker was a silent one. Everyone was tired and on edge. You tried to get out of the car as quickly as possible to avoid a confrontation with Dean. You were caught by the arm just as you got inside - it was Dean, and you knew what was coming.

“How could you jump in front of me Y/N?! You could have been killed! What were you thinking?!”

“Let me go Dean, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, Y/N. We are going to talk about this. This is the third time you’ve pulled a stunt like this! It’s like you’ve got a death wish or something!”

“I thought that vetala was going to bite you, so I improvised. Don’t worry, I won’t do it again.”

“Oh, I won’t need to worry. You’re not going on anymore hunts any time soon. You’re too much of a risk at this point. I can’t keep dropping focus on the hunt to save your ass.”

That was it - that was all you needed to confirm how you’ve been feeling lately. You knew you were a burden to the boys, and that one day they would realize that too. That day had finally come. You managed to wrestle your arm away from Dean and you stalked off to your room. You could hear him fuming to Sam as you walked away.

When you got to your room you went straight to the bathroom. That’s where you kept your medical supplies so you could bandage up your leg. After you got cleaned up, you headed over to your nightstand where you kept another set of essential supplies - your cutting kit. No one knew that you cut yourself on an almost weekly basis. It was easy enough to hide. If one of the boys happened to see something, you would just blame it on a recent hunt. Not that either of them cared to mention it, even if they did see.

You got your blade out and rolled up your non-torn sleeve. You slowly made a slice down your forearm. It stung and burned in the best way. This was one of the few ways you knew to calm yourself, especially after a bad hunt or an argument with Dean. This pain was one of the few things your could control in your life, and you were desperate for it. After a few more slices you felt calm enough that you could lay down, so you bandaged up your arm and rested your head on your pillow. You wanted to sleep, but that never came easy to you. You lay there until, finally, you drift off to sleep.

It had been about three weeks since the vetala hunt. You had tried to distance yourself as much as possible from the boys. Sam tried to get you to talk but you were done. You were just biding your time until one of them asked you to leave. Dean didn’t seem to want anything to do with you, which you thought was long overdue.

You were sitting in the kitchen at 2 AM, munching on some old pizza when Dean walked in. You immediately got up to leave when Dean asked,

“What is wrong with you? Why have you been avoiding me?”

Without saying a word, you turned to leave but Dean grabbed you by the arm.

“Y/N, talk to me. Tell me what I can do!”

“What you can do?! I think you’ve done enough. Now let me go Dean.”

“What do you mean? What have I ever done to you?”

You scoffed. “As if you don’t know.”

Dean’s look of surprise turned to one of anger. He had come in here wanting to figure out how to fix this situation, but now all he wanted to do was yell.

“And what exactly am I supposed to know? You never talk to me anymore Y/N! All you do is fuck up our hunts and act like a bitch after. It’s like you don’t care what happens to anyone or anything. It’s like you hate being around me and Sam now.”

You just stared at him, unable to speak - trying desperately not to start crying.

“Nothing to say, yet again?! Well if you really hate being here so much then why don’t you just leave!”

That was your final straw. Dean had finally said it - he wanted you gone. You stormed out of the kitchen, hurtling past Sam as he was just coming in.

“Y/N?” Said Sam. With a confused look, he turned to face Dean. “What the hell was that about?”

Dean went on to tell Sam of the interaction. Sam couldn’t believe that Dean had told you to leave. Dean couldn’t quite believe it himself. He was just so angry and confused. He wanted to know what was going on with you, but you wouldn’t let him in.

When you got into your room, you slammed the door shut. There were no locks on the door so you moved your chair to block it. You had made your decision on the way up that today was the day you were going to end it all, and you didn’t want anyone coming in. It was official - no one wanted you around, and you were tired of being a burden. You went to your nightstand and grabbed the knife from your kit. You took it into the bathroom and just stared at yourself for a minute in the mirror. All the horrible thoughts you have about yourself, confirmed by the one person you love the most.

You turned around and slid down the counter onto the floor. It was cold, but you didn’t mind. You looked at the blade in your hand as a single tear ran down your cheek. You somehow felt relieved that it was finally going to end. You put the blade to your arm, just below the crook of your elbow, and drew a line down to your wrist. The pain wasn’t enough though, you needed more. You drew another line alongside the first and started to feel a little lightheaded. You switched hands with the blade and did the same on your other arm.

You could feel the blood running down your arms and you welcomed the feeling. It was the first warmth you’d felt in so long. You felt tired though, and slumped over onto the floor. You could hear some sort of distant banging, but figured it was your heartbeat slowly fading. Then, everything went black - and you finally felt peaceful.

Dean had found himself in front of your door. He knocked, but no response.

“Y/N? You awake?” Still no response. It hadn’t been that long since you came up here. Feeling a little worried, Dean went to open the door, just to make sure you were okay. When he couldn’t get it open, he knew something was wrong. He started pounding on the door and calling your name. Finally, he got the door open and saw you slumped on your bathroom floor, sitting in a pool of blood.

“Y/N!” He screamed as he ran over to you. He grabbed any towels he could find and pulled your into his arms. Wrapping the towels around your arms, he screamed for Sam.

Sam came rushing into the room, panicked at the sound of his brother’s voice. “What happened?!”

“I don’t know, I just found her like this. What do we do?! SAM, WHAT DO WE DO?!”

Sam had never seen his brother so desperate before, it took him a second for his mind to comprehend. “I’ll call for Cas! He can heal her!”

The bunker still had the angel sigils, so Sam had to run outside for Cas to hear him. It felt like an eternity to Dean before Sam and Cas entered the room.

“Let me have her” said Cas as he took you in his arms. He moved you to the bed and gently laid you down. He placed his hands over your arms and a gentle light emanated from them. All watched as your wounds disappeared, as if they were never there. You didn’t wake though, and this had Dean even more panicked.

“Why isn’t she waking up?”

“Her body is healed, but her mind is not. I could not see anything, which means she is in a very dark place. It will be up to her to wake or not.”

Dean sat by your bed for hours waiting for some sign of life, other than your chest gently moving up and down as you breathed. At least he could take comfort in the fact that you were at least breathing.

When you did finally open your eyes, you saw Dean sleeping in the chair next to your bed, looking a little worse for wear. You couldn’t believe you were still here, in the bunker. You couldn’t believe Dean go to you in time, and you were angry.

“Dean. Dean!” You said to wake him up.

When he roused there was a look of relief on his face that confused you.

“Get out of my room” you said as confidently as you could muster, trying your hardest not to cry.

Dean looked at you completely dumbfounded. “What?”

“I said, get out of my room.”

“Y/N, how can you say that to me? I saved your life, again I might add.” He couldn’t understand why you were acting this way toward him. What had he done to hurt you so badly?

“I never asked you to save me Dean. In fact, I didn’t want you to. I wanted to die on that bathroom floor! You had no right -“

“Excuse me?!” Dean cut you off. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could she be angry at him for saving her life? “I had no right?! I had no right to save my best friend?! To save the one person I can turn to, no matter what? I had no right? Tell me what I did to make you hate me this way.”

Tears were now streaming down your face. You had never heard Dean say you were his best friend, or that he could always count on you. You had no idea he felt that way. You thought he hated you.

“I don’t hate you” you said almost inaudibly.

“Then tell me Y/N. Tell me what happened.”

“I thought you hated me. I thought you hated me the way I hate myself. I can’t do anything right, you said so yourself. I just mess everything up. I’m just a burden and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of fighting the thoughts and feelings in my head. The thoughts and feelings everyone around me must have too. I just can’t take it anymore. I want it to end. I want everything to end.”

Dean was taken aback. He had no idea you were feeling this way. He wished you had told him. He would do anything to make you feel as loved as you make him feel.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life. I don’t know what I would do without you… I can’t live without you. You mean everything to me. How could you not see that?”

Dean took your hand in his. “I love you Y/N. Please, don’t leave me like everyone else does. I need you with me.”

You didn’t know what to say. You felt as though you must have died and this was some hell designed to torture you with something you could never have.

“Dean…. Please stop…. I know you don’t mean any of this….”

Dean knew in that moment he would have to show you how much you mean to him. He leaned in and kissed you tenderly on your forehead, then pressed his to yours.

“I will spend the rest of my life showing you what you mean to me.”

He then pulled your chin up, so you eyes met his, and kissed you. Not just any kiss - this kiss had every unsaid word, every wishful touch, every stolen glance, everything he could muster to show you his love for you.

You could feel it too. His kiss was gentle, but also desperate and wanting. You didn’t know a kiss could feel this way. You felt all your cares melt away under his slightly chapped lips. It was like color was returning to your world.

You broke away from Dean, and he looked at you confused. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you Y/N. I always have. I’m sorry I didn’t show you that sooner.”

[miss-kittys-magical-library]

Auld Lang Syne (Jack x Rin)

Word Count: 3200

Warnings: None! Complete fluff.

A/N: inspired by @magic-multicolored-miracle winter prompts. New Year's kiss. o one asked for it 🤣 This is a sequel to "I'm A Creep" <-- Found here

She came to this little bookstore as many days a week as time allowed. Maybe it was becoming a bit obsessive, Rin’s constant reasons to spend hours there instead of a library. There was a collection of unread novels piling up on the coffee table of her council flat off the high street. Any excuse to be nearby

With the holidays fast approaching, her catering job kept her busier than ever. The constant flirting and serving and pleasing executives and drunk administratives and book editors and bankers managed to fend off the memories of the last time she ended up in the psych hospital. That and plenty of time made everything slow down and spread out over days instead of the constant hours she once spent. Her senses now and then brought Jack back to her like the waves in his mental pond crashing over her. She would be taken off guard for just a moment or two, but the parties kept them back at bay.

Two months in the psych hospital was all they spent together. A month that seeped into her dreams and waking moments for half a year after Rin was released. How she and Jack never spoke again after that night. He grinned awkwardly in her direction during their next group therapy session. Squinting his eyes like he was trying to place where he knew her from, but that was part of her gift. Sometimes, they woke up from a dream and forgot she was ever apart of them.

Before Rin could blink, Emma had come to take Jack home. Emma who smiled fondly at the “barking” girl with scarred hands who carried the flame of hope from her heart to her brother. At least that's what she communicated to Rin as they brushed fingertips on the way out. Jack was safe. He was loved. Emma would make sure he could handle the world without messages and the dead people who plagued him for so long. A few more days, and Rin was dropped back out in the world too.

Still, as the song goes, she learned to muddle through somehow. It had been a rather peculiar stretch of time Rin had gone without thinking of his unearthly eyes or that mass of dark curls on her neck and chest as they.. A bell over a door she didn't remember stepping in broke her out of the reverie.

Rin found herself inside a small shop with shelves eight or nine feet high. That musty smell of tangible books invaded her nostrils and she inhaled deeply. With eyes closed, she put her hand on the first row she could find and melted into the memories imprinted on them. She was struck by an unexpected wave, but instead of drowning she rode it to shore. There was a squeaky creak that often accompanies a wheel and just knew someone was on one of those ladders that glided across the shelves.

“You alright, loov?” that Yorkshire accent filled Rin’s ears and she squeezed her eyes shut tighter. “You look like you've seen a ghost,” he chuckled at a joke he felt only he understood.

He was a few feet above her when she finally opened her eyes. He dipped precariously from the ladder like he was swinging from a rope on a pirate ship. Those eyes shining brightly as they reflected the white lights decorating the store. Rin didn’t need to touch him to know he was happy. She could see it on his face as he smiled in her direction. Even in hospital she never knew he had dimples.

“Jack,” it came out before she could help herself.

He arched an eyebrow curiously in her direction. Head tilted in thought. Then looking down at his name tag he puffed air out of his nostrils “Right,” he tapped it “Forgot I was wearing this.”

Rin’s shoulders sagged in defeat, then unexpectedly “Have any Dickens?”

What the hell, she chided herself.

“Do we also have tea in the Queen’s country?” he teased. Rin’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. “sometimes we forget all the books we've read. I've forgotten loads since I was sick a few years back. Lived rough then was in hospital while. Dunno why I said that.”

“I think we tell strangers our secrets because we’ll never have to see them again,” Rin spoke softly.

“If you never come back, I was a bad salesman. Always looking for repeats.” Was.. he flirting? “Any Dickens will do?”

“Oliver Twist?” Rin signed and closed her eyes. Her face was on fire. You've had sex with this bloke, and he's got no bloody clue.

“Oi! I like Edwin Drood best. Old man dropped dead right in the middle of it all. Never got a proper ending. Ever been on one of these?” Jack gestured towards the ladder. Rin shook her head so he opened an arm. “Hop on with us then!”

“You give all the girls a ride?” Rin found her voice. She climbed up and settled herself against Jack’s body. Her naked hand closed over his; she felt a jolt go through his chest which tensed in response.

“Not- Not usually?” he stammered and tightened his grip around Rin’s waist as they slid along the shelves. “Do we know each other from somewhere? You just feel familiar. Dunno why I'm thinking of a bird.” Jack spoke more to himself.

“Well, actually, name is Wren-”

He cut her off, “But your brother couldn't say it right, so everyone calls you Rin.”

Jack’s body relaxed into the young woman’s. Maybe it was reflex, but he cautiously buried his face in her hair and inhaled.

Rin swallowed a smile, and found little ways to touch him that day. Little ways to touch exposed parts of Jack everytime she visited the store. Innocent explanations for their hands lingering when he handed her the twentieth book she didn't need. To flirtatiously brush the curls away from his forehead as he leaned over the counter when they talked.

And almost every single time Jack leaned into it. Reciprocated. Started remembering little parts of Rin from their time in section. Not the big messy memories, just bursts from time to time. She was ok with that. She would take him anyway she could.

Now here she was, two days before Christmas with her hands on the ornaments in the shop window. She had something wrapped in brown paper in her purse and was biding her time as Jack helped the customers buying last minute gifts.

Soon it was her turn, and Rin placed the gift on the counter simultaneously with Jack doing likewise. There was unexpected laughter, the way Jack's tapered off into a giggle from a loud outburst. Infectious as it was, Rin joined in.

“If we got each other identical presents, you're coming to mine for New Year’s,” it wasn't a question. “Emma and her partner know you somehow. Must be from around the visitor’s during..” His voice trailed off.

“Our time in the nuthouse?” Rin offered.

Jack leaned over and brushed his nose against Rin’s cheek out of the blue. They lingered momentarily, before he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I've done that before,” another assertion as his verdant gaze settled on Rin’s lips.

Picking up the package, Rin shoved it playfully into Jack’s chest so that he was forced back. “Open your gift!”

“Fine!”

Jack mimicked her tone as he tore into the wrapping paper at the same Rin dove into hers. They both held up books simultaneously and fell into a fit of giggles.

“OLIVER TWIST!”

“EDWIN DROOD?!”

In unison: “FIRST EDITION?!”

“I can't believe I never knew how much you loved books,” Rin was blunt.

“I'm not sure how much we spoke for you to find out.” Jack hugged the book tightly to his chest. “I'm not sure how much I spoke to anyone outside of group and therapy.”

Rin took one of her million chances when she placed the palm of her hand against Jack’s cheek. He relaxed into the touch, eyes closed and sighed contentedly. Under the surface he was warm and bright like the Christmas lights. She wouldn't let herself pass any further than the happy memories. Impassioned ones of mouths and hands and fingertips and hugs.

Perhaps it was the particular sensation Rin spread out from herself to Jack that triggered a reaction. One of him leaning across the countertop to bring their lips together in a chaste kiss that lingered longer than it should have.

Jack recovered and righted himself before apologizing. He was compelled in the moment out of gratitude. “Meet us here on New Year’s, yeah? So we don't have to be alone.”

“You've got family, Jack.” Rin reminded him.

“So we don't have to be alone for the New Year,” he only repeated. It was a date.

------

Rin took the early shift on New Year’s Eve so she could tear out and get ready. The nerves coiled in her stomach as she scrambled to fix hair that wouldn't fall right or apply make-up that made her resemble a street walker. She sighed, defeated, and told herself this was all she could give.

Still Jack threw a large grin in her direction as he closed up the shop. He wolf whistled and Rin felt her face catch fire.

“Aren't you a stunner?” he pecked her cheek and gave the woman before him a spin. She loved the way it came out sounding like “stoonah.”

“You got a big date or something?” he teased before taking her by the hand.

“I needed extra money for the holiday so I thought I'd hang around a street corner. Fifty quid and a warm cot, I'll do whatever you like” Rin shrugged and winked coyly.

Jack rolled his eyes, but his demeanor changed as he traced the network of scars on the back of her hand so delicately Rin felt tears in her eyes. She swiped at them swiftly hoping he thought it was the chilled breeze.

“Dunno why I did tha,” he dropped the hand abruptly and buried his own in a jacket pocket. “Not my place to touch (tooch) you when you didn't ask.”

Uncomfortable silence.

“does anyone else work here besides you?” Rin gestured towards the store as they started walking, she assumed, to Emma’s house.

“Sometimes Emma and Billy. Only when I get too overwhelmed.”

Rin linked her arm with Jack's to break the weird tension. “Do you manage it?”

“I own it. Why need a job? Maybe a bit of a conflict if the boss has a bit of a flirt with the shopgirl innit?”

“OWN IT?!”

Jack laughed, “Not bad for a nutter who talks to dead people and was not long for Big Issue. Why do I say this shit to you?!”

“I'm like a truth serum?” she offered.

They wound their way through a lovely neighbor with houses no one Rin knew could afford. She remembered Jack’s brother-in-law was a lawyer. He told her his sister left him not long after he got out. Had to be spousal support and a settlement, but she didn't prod.

“I helped someone a while back. Someone kinda connected. Well-known, I guess? I tried to sort out his missus when she tried suicide.”

“It didn't work in the end.”

“At first. It's how I got sectioned. The voices. His voice. She was ok for a bit. His family sent me letters. They figured I knew something. What I knew got them a conviction. I got a reward. Doesn’t always feel like one if everyone’s dead now does (dooz) it?”

It was Rin’s turn to lace her fingers with Jack's. “You helped someone's family find peace. Sometimes that's enough even if you kinda lose yourself in the process. Look I let what I can do almost kill me. That’s what put me in hospital.” She held up the gashed scar along her wrist. “But that gave me yo-” Rin swallowed the word. “I got to use my gift one last time. And he's happy! Even if he forgets who I am.”

“Who could ever forget you, love?”

They were quiet the rest of the journey.

-----

Rin sat on the edge of the pool as her feet dangled in the bath warm water. Her brain flashed back to the lake where she experienced Jack drowning in his own mind. Bogged down by medication he didn't need while the dead clung to him. Then they had surfaced, she nearly torn apart by the ghosts Jack fought with. Bellowed that he was no longer their messenger. They tried to take her as compensation.

Now false water filled Rin’s lungs as a fake grin spread across her cheeks. The chlorine and tropical air made her nauseous, ready to vomit. Of all the things Jack could have suggested they do, swimming at 11pm would not have ever crossed her mind.

“There was a kid, lived here before Emma, died right. Mean little bastard too. Suppose dying like that might get a kid angry as long as he was tied to it.”

Jack stood on the pool’s edge, toes curled around the stone. His face went a bit dark as he narrowed his eyes in the direction of something Rin couldn't see in the opposite corner. He clenched his fists. She knew it was a silent standoff between Jack, and most likely, the dead boy.

It was only a flash of his old self before Jack snapped to. He grinned like the Cheshire cat as he undid his jeans and tore his sweater off. Then headfirst into the deep end leaving Rin to squeal.

“WHAT are you doing?!” she yelled as he bolted towards her underwater.

“Dunno fancied a swim. It's rather lovely water considering it's January. Plus,” he pointed towards the ceiling, “Look up.”

Rin followed his finger and gazed upwards. A large glass window spread the night sky before them. Millions of stars shone through, stars she never really bothered searching for. She was overwhelmed by other people's emotions, literally, that she never had a quiet moment to herself so that she COULD look up.

“Don't you wanna to join me?” Jack’s question was rather coy as he side-stroked back and forth.

Rin shook her head, “I'll sit here and watch.” She glanced down at the wine bottle she nearly forget, “And drink.” So they did.

Now her anxiety was churning her stomach. A coat of alcohol warmed her further than just the temperature of the pool room. Her chest was tight with lack of oxygen as she struggled to not cry. So she focused on the long, thin body completely relaxed on the water's surface. What a lovely distraction it was.

Jack floated along lazily on his back, boxers leaving nothing to the imagination. That secret part of him Rin had not seen in two years clearly visible. Now her face grew flush with desire and the memory of how good it felt for once to be touched by a man because he cared about her. How they made each other sing.

Jack must have sensed something because he righted himself and swam towards her. Those hands on her calves and knees to part them slightly so he can stand between them. He was silent as he reached for the bottle of wine.

“Rin, be honest,” his voice filled the silence of the room. “Can you swim?”

Rin's heart pounded so loudly in her ears that Jack was muffled. The way he looked at her, desire emanated from him. There was a disconnect between his brain and body. Those hands on her thighs remembered exploring her but the rest of him didn't. They lingered between innocence and the verge of obscenity. If he wanted, Rin would have sex with him while a houseful of people partied and danced within ear shot.

“i can swim!”

Jack pushed off the wall and splashed her in the process. “Do you think I'm sexy?” he was drunk. Head tilted as the wet curls clung to his face.

“A blind person would think you're sexy. You're taking the piss because I won't get in.”

“Of course I am! Come on. I'll hold you?” he raised an eyebrow. “It's almost midnight. I want to be with you when it is.”

“We're together enough, Jack”

“No!” he waved his hands. “I want to hold you.I don't know why, I know I have before? I feel like there's just this.. Ever since you came to the store it’s been like trying to remember a dream I had once. And some part of me is saying you know how to help because you've done it before?”

Realization spread across Jack's face, “Rin, am I the one who forgot you?”

“It happens sometimes. I think.. I think my abilities shut off a part of people who no longer need me or want me?” she shrugged it off.

“How could I not want you?”

It was such an innocent thing to ask. One Rin had asked herself every time someone used her. Her parents turned her into a sideshow freak for their religion. Men and their sick desires that she tapped into. Even she didn't want herself most of the time.

But Jack had been alone. Left to his own devices and literally haunted. Rin never needed to touch him to know how sad he had been when he first was sectioned. It emanated from him. He knew about self isolation and mistrust. And especially about gifts that would ruin you if they could.

There wasn't a thought left. Spurned on by the purity of his question, Rin hurried out of her clothes and eased herself into the pool. She swam as quickly as her body allowed before throwing herself in Jack's waiting arms.

Their arms and legs tangled together in the water. Rin wrapped herself around Jack's hips, her arms draped across broad shoulders. She twisted her fingers up in his hair and let her body meld into his.

Jack held Rin's head in his hands. Their foreheads pressed together as he nudged the tip of his nose along her face. Careful, at first,

to only brush his lips on her cheeks and eyelids. Then the countdown started.

Everyone in the house started counting down excitedly, and Jack stopped being cautious. It was cliché how their mouths found one another hungrily as the guests screamed Happy New Year! How Rin's empathic touch sent a wave of electricity that visibly shocked Jack's body as they began to sing. As if she plugged his body into his brain and there was a spark that brought him to life.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

And never brought to mind?

Should auld acquaintance be forgot

For days of Auld Lang Syne

They relaxed into one another. Their kisses became languid but no less passionate. Everyone stormed the pool around them, splashing and laughing and hollering. Emma drunkenly interrupted the couples’ warring lips and tongues.

“Took you fucking long enough,” she teased her baby brother. “I kept hoping this would happen.”

Rin buried her face in Jack's chest as he held her tight. That bright fire that flowed from Emma to her and Rin to Jack back in hospital took root again in this house and pool.

“Me too.”

We’ll take o cup of kindness yet

For days of auld lang syne

[bnha-scenarios]

☕️ Special Thanks ☕️ 

As always, thank you so much for the coffee! Your kindness are very much appreciated! ♡

Emilija | Regan | Nela Kovaříková | 1 Anon

Onwards to the progress update.

I had. So. Many. Things. That I actually wanted to complete.

… Alas, work decided to be a bitch and swamp me with things to take care of. To put it simply, there were a lot of issues that caused a lot of overtime work even on weekends, so I had to step away from coding most of the time so I won’t burn myself out.

So yeah, I didn’t manage to complete a lot of features, though I did dabble on some stuff here and there. I’m not happy with the rather small progress either. But life happens, and there are just other things that are more important sometimes. So we just have to let it go and look forward to the next month!

I’d say that this month I was quite productive in terms of organization and planning instead of the actual coding. I have at least identified what I need to write for the ‘free activity’ time of the game, which makes about 30-40% of the gameplay itself. However, actually writing the scenes and executing it is a different effort altogether, which I have only started to embark on.

Still, it’s crazy to think that the development for the full game has been actively going for around three and a half months now. Whew. Knowing that I have a tendency to hyperfocus and then get tired of something after a short time frame, I’m going to at the very least give myself a pat on the back for still keeping this project up and running until now.

More details below ↓

Added Route: Kirishima

Let me preface this first with a declaration: I won’t be adding any more love interest after this. Please please please don’t make me do it 😅 Going through all the plans and re-setting up things to figure out how to add him in was such a painful experience…

But anyway. I will be adding this boy’s route to the full game, because a lot of people seem to want to have him in the game. He does seem like a fun character to write, so I thought I’ll give him a chance.

Gameplay

Places, Schedules, and Hanging Out with the Boys

I think you would have noticed from the last two devlogs, but there are several activities you can do in-game. One of them is to visit a place of your choice at a certain time in a day.

Some places can be unlocked when you reach a certain threshold in a specific stat, and there are others which will be unlocked when you reach a specific threshold in a character’s affection meter. Nai will message you whenever you manage to unlock a new place to visit, so keep a lookout for that!

But what happens when you visit a place?

Well, each character has their own schedules -- which you should be able to figure out either by coincidence or by talking to them at school when prompted to do so. Your Quirk will allow you to see the unlocked schedule of each of the characters, so my advice would be to check it out before deciding where to go! If you manage to come to a specific place at the correct time, you will bump into them. Normally, this will trigger a set of actions you can perform: Talk, Action, and Skinship.

Talking is a safe way to increase your love interest’s affection meter, especially in the first half of the game. More topics can be unlocked under some requirements. Generally, it doesn’t matter where you are, the topics you can talk about will be the same. There are topics which might trigger different reactions depending on how high your love interest’s affection is, so have fun finding them! However, be warned that most topics can be selected only once!

Action is another safe way to further increase your love interest’s affection meter. Unlike talking, different places have a different set of actions you could select from. More actions can also be unlocked under some requirements. Responses to this doesn’t exactly change based on the character’s current affection level, and it’s not limited to one time only.

Skinship is a riskier way to boost the affection meter: simply put, it’s a high gain with a high risk. Consider the character’s current affection level when you’re selecting from this list! He might not like it if you go touchy-feely when you’re not that close yet.

On the other hand, when his affection is high enough, you’ll find that you can have a lot of fun choosing the various options here. So be smart, bide your time, and have fun ;)

And that’s not all! Interaction is a two-way street, so depending on how your love interest views the main character, he will initiate Talk, Action, or even Skinship. There’s a lot of variations in here, and I hope you’ll have fun with this mechanic! I certainly am having fun while also pulling out my hair out of frustration designing this and trying to put the mechanism to control this into code…

Progress-wise, I think at the very least the functions for controlling this specific mechanic have been 80% completed. The actual writing however, is another story. There are still hundreds that I still haven’t had the time to write yet, and most of them are not yet coded in. Those who have been coded in still don't have sprites and music, so really, I’ll just say that the writing progress for this part is less than 1% completed….

On the left is the currently WIP full game project, with what I would say around 2-4% dialogue scripted in. And on the right side is the completed demo project.

…. Can you see how much effort the whole game is going to take me now? I did say to strap in and relax, cause this is going to be a long ride. And I wasn’t kidding lol

"Nai"

Although throughout the first week, the story will flow as your environment / characters around you teaches you on how the game works, I’m aware that the game mechanics might be hard to understand for casual players who aren’t too used to playing otome games (or games in general). Which is pretty much why I’m giving you a ‘helpline’ of some sort, in the form of another character.

Why a character? Because I can and I want to. Shush 😆

If you’ve played the demo, chances are, you’ve encountered a name which you had no recollection of existing in the canon My Hero Academia universe. Well, you’re right. Like the player’s character, Nai (full name: Namae Nai / 名前 ない) doesn’t exactly exist in the canon universe, but she’s here to help you throughout the game. (She’s also there because if she wasn’t, 1-A class members becomes odd number in total and that just feels weird to me -- plus, the team exercise system in Heroics wouldn’t exactly make sense if the class has odd number of students)

For those of you who hate Original Characters with a passion (why tho), you don’t need to worry too much. She won’t be an intrusive character in the plot and will mainly not contact you unless she really has to (seriously, her full name literally means ‘no name’, so give her a break, ok?). And if, even then, you still hate her, well.... Too bad you won’t be able to enjoy the game, I guess.

For those of you who don't mind her existence: I hope you’ll take a liking to her dark sense of humor and appreciate her helping you get through the game!

Others

Fixed some bugs regarding unlocking Special Moves from certain activities and games.

Played around and customized the ‘input name’ for a little bit, so it wouldn’t awkwardly sit on the bottom of the screen. I have 0 talent in designing UI though, so the background still stays as a black screen -- but at least it looks more prominent now.

Added a little sign to indicate which route the player has entered. I think it’s pretty cute! Hopefully you’ll like it.

Assets

Those who follow me on Twitter would have seen this coming, but anyway, I’ll be using TMGS OSTs as the main character theme for the four love interests. Hush hush, okay?

Other than that, unfortunately I didn’t have time to do any assets gathering this month.

Writing

Nothing much to say here. I think I managed to script around 50% of the events in the first day, but honestly I’m not completely satisfied with it so I might go back and tweak them a bit. Still a lot of scenes to be written!

Plans for December

I'm not too sure whether there would be much progress for the next two months, since there are so many things happening and deadlines to be met at work, which is making me really unmotivated to do other side projects in my free time lately. I also feel like I haven't been taking care of my health enough ever since quarantine started, so I'm trying to get back into doing more exercises and looking for healthier food options, which also cuts into my free time and motivation I guess.

With that said, I'll still at least aim for getting some scripts coded in -- particularly for the events in day 1. Other than that, maybe hopefully some assets gathering for supporting Kirishima's newly added route, and finishing up the coding parts that I was unable to finish this month.

I'll see y'all again at the end of next month!

[talpup]

Lost Song: 8

Huzzah for the Smut Fairy!  She finally decided to return to me so I could get this chapter written out.  And in time for the 1yr friend-iversary with my bnha conspirator @inorganicone2230   Sorry about the delay everyone.  Hope you enjoy.

Summary: The war between the Dragons and Griffons ended 233 years ago, and both races right along with it.

Or so it was believed. There are three individuals that will soon change that.

Kai is the last of the Dragons and he seeks to take what he sees as his rightful place and rule over all of Oblvi. Meanwhile, Shouta, the last Sphinx, wants nothing more than to do his job; keep the peace and and teach the young Fourth’s to hopefully avoid the mistakes of their ancestors. And Teris, a Foundling who is just trying to understand and survive in this strange new world that is supposedly her own.

All three have their own wants and desires, but Kai’s plans, Teris’ existence, and Shouta's past mean that none of them may get what they want.

This fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

8.1

Teris found the book on how Beasts tracked their prey interesting.  Not only was she able to pick out signs of how Shouta had reacted to and found the Red Cap during their patrol three days ago.  But she noted several things she had thought of as personal habits that, according to the book, were instinct.  It was enlightening, and a bit unnerving just how beholden to her instincts she had been without even realizing it.

“Teris.”

Engrossed in reading, Teris startled.

Kai smirked.  Finding the little jump and gasp she gave cute.  The Beast within him hummed in satisfaction at catching her unawares.  His ignited predatory instincts stoked higher. “Let’s hope you’re not so easy to catch for the hunt.”

“Catch? Hunt?”  Teris asked.

Kai held her gaze.  “Why do you think I gave you that to read?  We’re going hunting.  Or more correctly I’m hunting..”

Closing the book, Teris got to her feet.  A part of her thrilled at the prospect of a chase.  While another part of her tensed in defense at the answer she already knew. “What are you hunting?”

Kai stepped to her, voice deepening as it lowered. “Clever girl like you.  I thought it would be obvious.”

Teris shivered more from his piercing gaze and seductive tone than his actual words. “You want to hunt me?”

Kai leaned forward, breath ghosting over her ear.  “As badly as I know you want to be caught.  Do you think you can make a good game of it?”

“Game?” Teris stepped back wearing a teasing smile.  “So this is a game. Not a lesson.”

Kai grabbed her waist and pulled her back to him.  “I’d be more than happy to give you a lesson if you’d like.”

Teris’ breath caught.  Kai had this gentlemanly yet domineering nature about him that was both exciting and frightening.  Any game the man chose to play, she was sure he would win.  Even so, something deep within her wanted to challenge him and win.  But the idea of being hunted by him for play felt too intimate.  As much as she like Kai, she wasn’t ready for that.  This world and her place in it were still too new and uncertain.

Kai saw the look in her eyes and reigned his desires in. “It’s a lesson of sorts.  Though Beasts are known hunters, there might be occasions where you’ll have to run, hide, and cover your trail.”

Teris eased at that.  It made sense.  Especially since she was still learning and had yet to display her true form.  If she got separated from Shouta and Hizashi while out on patrol and was attacked, her best bet would probably be to run and hide.  “Alright.  But you have to make it halfway fair and give me a head start.”

Kai’s earlier anger and stress, coupled with his heightened instincts made his eyes flash.  “I don’t have to do anything.”

Even as she took a step back, Teris’ posture straightened in defiance.

While her submissive step back pleased him.  Kai also felt a sense of pride at the fixed set of her posture.  He didn’t want a scared, broken mate.  Teris’ pride and unflinching strength is what had initially furthered his interest in her.  Yet the way she continued to met his eyes and refused to bend was a challenge to his authority he found unacceptable.

All in good time, Kai consoled himself.  Just because she was perfectly suited to be his mate didn’t mean she was his perfect mate yet.  He had to bide his time and be gentle with her, least he scare her away.

Voice and expression softening, Kai stepped after her.  “But I’ll do anything within reason for you, Beautiful.”

Teris slowly relaxed.  Kai’s burst of temper had both concerned her and raised her heckles.  But she forgave it.  Everyone at Traverseen Hall seemed on edge because of these Council Elders that were arriving.  As steady and sure as Kai was.  It was little surprise that he would be too.

Looking to ease any of his stress that she could, Teris told. “I trust you to know what’s best for my instruction.  You haven’t failed me yet.”

“And I never will.”  Kai promised.

Teris wondered if that was why he had thought of this lesson.  Because it would be a diversion from everything going on.  After everything Kai had done for her, the least she could do was put up a good chase.  She plucked a his button-up shirt. Raising to her tip-toes she kissed his cheek.  “I’ll do my best to use everything you’ve taught me and make you proud.”

Kai’s heart raced at the sweet, tender affection. He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her close. “And I’ll be sure to teach you so much more, Beautiful.”

Teris gasped into his mouth, the kiss sudden but not unwelcome.  Clutching at his shoulders, she shivered against him.

A low growl reverberated through Kai’s chest.  The desire to claim near overwhelming.  He pulled away.  “I’ll give you eight minutes.”

The heady excitement of the kiss stoked her excitement over this lesson. There was no way she could win.  But that wouldn’t stop her from trying.  “And you have twenty minutes to find me.”

“I’ll only need three but I’ll hold off and take fifteen.”  Kai said, a firm believer in delayed gratification.

“Cocky.”

Kai’s smirk was smug. “You have no idea.”

Cheeks heated in a blush, Teris ordered. “Turn around.  No peeking.”

Kai slowly turned his back to the forest beyond.

In an impulsive move that surprised herself, Teris smacked his ass.

Kai barely jumped at the spank. “I’ll get you for that, Beautiful.”

“We’ll see.”  Teris teased and tore off to the treeline.

She disappeared into the forest.  First things first.  She had to mask her scent.  Not caring that it would leave a clear trail, her hands raked through the branches of young pines as she ran.  Hands and forearms covered in the trees scent, she rubbed her forearms along her neck. Satisfied her scent was mildly dampened, she stopped and carefully backtracked a few paces.  Eyes scanning the towering trees, she lept to a mid lying branch and hopped to a nearby pine.  Continuing to do so, she made her way deeper into the forest.

Hands in his pockets, Kai patiently waited.  He had tuned out his other senses wanting the added challenge of not knowing which direction his prey taken.

When the sixth minute hit, Kai was temped to turn around and start.  His half hard cock was already eager to start the chase and catch her.  But he kept his word.  Slow as the time seemed to pass, he would wait the full eight minutes.  Though he already doubted he would be able hold off catching her for the full fifteen he had said.

Teris jumped down from a tree and into a shallow stream.  The water would cover her trail and wash away any scent she left.

At the eight minute mark, Kai turned around.  The beast within him wanted to change into his true form.  But he held back.  The hunt would be over far too soon if he did that. Instead he strolled calmly and slowly into the forest.

The disturbed earth of her footfalls told of her path. He followed it.  His nose was assaulted by the pungent smell of pine long before he saw the bent and broken saplings.  From there her trail ended.

A rush of adrenaline shot through him.  To think he had begun to get disappointed at how easy she had made it. Eyes scanning the trees, he looked for marks of where she had landed when she jumped.  Not seeing any, he turned back the way he had come. He smiled, just barely able to make out a bit of scuffed bark.  Clever girl.

Teris left the stream.  She supposed ten minutes had passed since Kai would’ve begun his chase.  It felt impossibly longer and shorter at the same time.  Suddenly she heard him speak and was forced to slap a hand over her mouth to hold back startled squeak.

“Teris.” Kai thought into her head.  He had broken down and changed into his true form.  One might call it cheating.  Teris likely would.  But pursuing villains never played fair.

Teris halted.  She turned in a circle.  Ears listening.  Eyes searching.

Kai “You did well masking your scent.”  Kai spoke into her mind.  He stalked through the forest, tail slowly flicking behind.  She had either stopped moving or was moving too carefully for him to hear. “Your truly are a worthy prey.  But you haven’t done that trick again.  I can smell you, Precious.”

Teris’ eyes widened. He was clearly toying with her.  But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.  Deep enough into the forest that there weren’t any saplings, she looked up at the thick canopy.  Should she try to mask her scent again?  No.  Bruising the pine needles would release more of their scent and act as much as a beacon as her scent.

Kai took a deep breath.  The slitted nostrils of his true form expanding and contracting.  “I have your trail now, Beautiful.  Your sweet scent is like no other. The smell and image of you is marked on my very being.  I’ll find you.  I’ll always find you.”

Teris’ heart raced.  Her eyes darted about the forest.  She looked back the way she had come and bolted in the opposite direction.

“You’ve grown more excited.  I can smell it.”  Kai thought into her mind. “You’re making this too easy.  Or is that what you want?  For me to catch you?  Do you like being chased?  Is this what you wanted all this time?  All you had to do was ask.  I would've gladly hunted and caught you long before now if you had but asked like a good girl.”  The excitement getting to him, Kai’s beastly instincts took over his mouth as he continued to speak into Teris’ head.  “I’ll do so much more than hunt you down and catch you, Little One. I’ll pin you down and pump you full if you’d like.”

Teris tripped over her own feet, just barely catching herself.  Surely Kai was just trying to make her mess up.  Still, the prospect made her heart flutter and core clench.  It stoked a hidden flickering incitement into a full flame.

“Is that what you want?  For me to pin you down and make you scream as you take my cock.  I’d stretch that tight little pussy of yours and ruin you.  You’d be mine forever.  You already are. You just don’t know it yet.”

Teris barely heard his last words.  As hard as it was to ignore someone speaking directly into your mind, she tried.  The feelings and images his words conjured were too distracting.  Too enticing.

Kai growled.  A different, more alluring smell that was still completely Teris tickled his nose.  He shot up through the branches and took to the air.

Teris happened upon a clearing.  It was futile to continue running so she decided to wait and make a stand.  There had been nothing said about sparring.  And she refused to go down without a fight knowing she technically wouldn’t be caught until he had hands on her and she couldn’t get away.

High above the treetops, Kai heard her stop running.  For a second he wondered if she had given up.  But that wasn’t like his chosen mate. Her instincts would be running just as high as his, if not more so.  Kai might not know what kind of Beast Teris was yet.  But he knew she was of a proud and ancient breed.  She wouldn’t simply stop and call it quits.

Panting, Teris waited.  Unbeknownst to her, her features sharpened.  The soft peach fuzz along her face changed into tiny quills.  Her senses heightened.  She saw a wren snap up a grasshopper from more than a thousand meters away.  She could see it so clearly she saw the grasshoppers legs and antennae thrash.  Could hear the insects frantic clicks before it was swallowed up.  A change in air pressure made her look up moments before a shadow passed overhead.

Kai was upon her.  The world closed in.  Heightened sense shrinking. Quills reverting back to peach fuzz. Before she could move, Kai had descended from above in a whip of wind and swoosh of receding wings.

Seamlessly, Kai returned to human form.  He had Teris pinned in an instant. There was no chance of fighting.  No hope of escape.

“Mine.” Kai declared, more breathless from excitement of the chase than the chase itself.

Despite the futilely of it, Teris tried to push him off.

Kai grabbed her hands and pinned them to either side of her head.  “Mine.”

Teris growled.  She belonged to no one unless she willed it.  Her hips bucked under him, trying to unseat his straddling frame.

Kai sat more of his weight on her.  An echoing growl rumbled from his chest.  “Mine.”

Teris’ breath caught at the feel of a hard prodding length.  Her body stilled, heart racing impossibly faster.

Kai hummed in approval.  Mine. He thought eyes panning from her thrumming pulse point to her heaving chest.  He leaned over her. Proud, smirking lips hovering inches above her parted ones.  “You did well, Beautiful.  But it’s time to admit defeat.”

Teris’ eyes hardened.  Conflicting instincts raged through her.  She would never admit defeat.  She was meant to rule.  But the feel and scent of the handsome Dragon was too appealing.  Overwhelming in the best of ways.

Teris turned her head, baring her neck to the victor.

Kai’s head dipped.  Nose and lips running up the column of her neck, reveling in her submissive state.  He breathed deeply, savoring the scent of her. Mine. Good mate. His lips latched onto the curve of her neck, teeth sinking in.

Teris gasped, body tensing.  Kai’s deep growl of warning the only thing that kept her still.  She whimpered, muscles trembling.  Conflicting instincts warring inside her.

Kai’s tongue laved at the flesh between his teeth, easing the sting.  Teris melted beneath him, eliciting a pleased hum from the man above her. His teeth released. Shimmering gold eyes examined the mark in satisfaction.  His pleasure diminished slight by the fact that it was only claiming mark and not a true bonding bite.

Nuzzling her neck, Kai murmured.  “That chase was too easy, Beautiful.  It’s almost as if you wanted me to catch you.”

Teris’ body arched involuntarily up to him.  The low timber of his voice and heady scent of him making her core clench.  She whimpered, arousal seeping from her quivering cunt, wetting her underwear.

Kai groaned, rutting against her.  The smell of her essence blew his pupils wide.  He lifted up enough to look her in the eye.  “I’ve made good on my promise to pin you down.  Would you like me to make good on the other and pump you full?”

Her body rolled against his in silent answer.  But Kai wouldn’t award so easily.  Her vocal consent wasn’t the issue.  Rather it was his desire to hear her admit she wanted him to fuck her raw and make her scream. He wanted to hear her tell him how much she wanted him. How much she needed him.  How he was the only one for her.  And only he could suffice and give all she ever wanted.

“Tell me.”  Kai spoke into her head, instincts to high to verbally speak.

“Kai.” Teris mewled, arms trying to pull from where he had them pinned.  She wanted.  Needed.  To touch him.  The intimacy of having him speak into her head only added to the heated heaviness that clouded all rational thought.

“Tell me what you want, Teris.  All you have to do is ask.  I’ll gladly give you whatever you want.”

Teris shivered.  Kai’s resonating voice caressing her mind and body as firm and sensual as any physical touch.

“Do you want me?”  Kai questioned, aching cock making him impatient for answer.

Teris nodded.

“Tell me.”  Kai ground his weeping dick against her, uncaring of the wet spot that blossomed on his underwear.

“Kai. Please.”

“Tell me you want me.  Tell me you want my cock.”

Teris broke. “I want your cock.”

Kai growled in pleasure.  He reared up onto his knees and ripped off his shirt.  Later he would frown at the undignified act.  But with his beastly side in control, he didn’t care.  He could barely think straight. Every sensation was heightened.  Every need magnified. He fell back over her catching and bearing himself up on a strong arm.

Teris’ head tilted and raised.  Tongue licking up his bulging bicep.  She moaned at the taste of him.  Head falling back, baring her throat.

Kai cupped the back of her neck.  Hungry lips feasting on her throat. My mate. Mine.

Teris’ hands roved over his back, fingering threading through his hair.  She pulled him off her neck, shivering in delight and ire at his indignant growl.

Before Kai could complain, Teris pressed her lips to his.  Kai’s hand tightened around the back of her neck, pulling her closer.  He quickly took charge of the kiss.  Tongue leaking out to push its way into her mouth.  Teris moaned around the heavenly wet muscle.  Her thighs rubbed together seeking friction against her need.

Kai lapped at her mouth exploring every crevice.  He mapped out her wet cavern, finding particularly sensitive areas that made her breath hitch. Taking note of what treatment made her body tremble in delight.  Pulling away with one last nip to her lower lip, Kai moved back to her neck.  His hands roamed over her body, raking fingers pulling up her shirt to expose her soft flesh.

Teris pulled her top off, tossing is aside.  She made to pull him into a kiss again but was stopped by Kai’s large hand capturing her wrists.

He held her down, pinning her arms above her head.  With a cocky smirk, he told. “You’re my prize, Little One.  I won the chase.  I get the reward.”

“You said I could have whatever I wanted.”  Teris reminded.

“I said I would gladly give you whatever you asked.  And you haven’t asked to touch me.”

Teris frowned, arms pulling against his hold.

Kai growled.  “My prize.”

Teris stopped, arms relaxing.

Kai looked over her submissive position in approval. My mate.  Mine. He thought, proudly.  Leaning over her, he rasped.  “You just lay back and let me have my way.  I promise it’ll be the best fuck of your life.”

A thought stuck him then.  Was Teris a virgin.  Even running on instincts she wasn’t acting like one.  The thought of someone having at her before him turned him feral.  He growled low and long.

“Stay.” Kai commanded, hand pressing her wrists into the ground.

Teris didn’t dare move.  Didn’t dare argue.  Not with the way Kai had growled.  Not with the way his scent had subtlety changed from assertive to aggressive.

It didn’t matter that Fourth’s were freer with sex.  Or that Beastly Fourth's could have numerous companions before they were mated.  Teris was his mate. Properly mated or not, she was his. The thought of anyone looking at, let alone touching her made him want to kill.  With no challenger around to kill, Kai turned his attention to claiming.

He crashed his lips against hers.  Ravenous hands pushing up her bra to grope her breasts.  He kissed and bit a line down her neck.  Mine.

Teris’ hands closed around clumps of grass least she disobey and touch him.

Kai’s eyes lifted.  Looking between the twin mounds of her breasts to take in her beautiful face. “Good girl.  My prize.” He spoke into her head, lips trailing up the soft curve of one of her breasts to pluck at perk nipple.  “Be good and take it for me.”

His tongue flicked the hardened peak. Teris gasped at a hard, toothy suck.

“So sensitive.” Kai’s voice sounded in her head, hands moving down to her pants.

He made quick work undoing her belt and pants.  And soon he was kneeling between her legs with her laid bare beneath him.

“So beautiful.  More beautiful than I ever could’ve dreamed. And believe me, Beautiful.  I’ve done more than dream about this.  I’ve imagined taking you since the first moment I saw you.” Kai’s hand ran up her thigh and spread her puffy folds.

Teris tried to close her legs and shield herself from his devouring gaze.

Kai’s other hand tightened around her thigh, holding her open. His gold eyes flashed in warning displeasure.  “Don’t you dare try to hide my prize from me.”

Teris’ hips danced, cunt aching to be filled. Never before had she felt such an overpowering need. Her legs butterflied open, all pride and ego gone.  She would do anything.  Submit to anything.  So long as it meant Kai would stretch her open with his cock and fuck her.

“Please. Please, Kai.  Please.”  Teris whimpered, clawing fingers tilling the earth above her head.

Kai lost all control seeing Teris in such a state.  To think his chosen mate wanted.  Needed.  Him so bad that she was a begging mess with just a single touch to her pretty pussy.  He undid his belt and pants, shoving them and his underwear down.

He hissed at his rock hard cock springing free.  It hit his stomach, leaving a trail of precum.  He preened, letting Teris have a good look at the thick length that would be splitting her open.

Early in his prime, Kai had been able to ignore his beastly urges.  It helped that there had been no one he found worthy enough to even seek release with.  It made this moment all the more potent for him. Teris being his first.

It also meant that he devolved into pure base instinct.  For while thinking Kai might've wanted to take his time and have Teris to touch him.  To see and feel her kiss swollen lips wrap around his cock. His beastly nature needed to breed.  It didn’t matter that there was no chance of pregnancy without them being properly mated.  The need outweighed everything else.

Instincts ruling his actions, Kai grabbed Teris’ legs and pushed them back against her.  The position would allow him to thrust as deeply as possible.

Teris squirmed, feeling further exposed at the mating press. The proud, assertive side of her didn’t like being at another's mercy. While she liked Kai.  Found him strong, intelligent, handsome, and caring toward her.  Her emotions hadn’t developed to the level of a trusting love that would have her fully and willingly submit.

Kai growled, hands tightening around her legs with bruising strength.  He would have his prize and she would gladly take it.

All willfulness evaporated when Kai’s cock rutted through her slick folds.  Kai shivered in pleasure at the silky, wet, heat. The head of his dick hit Teris’ clit making her eyes roll.  Her wanton moan a sound that would ring in Kai’s ears forever.

He pushed in to the hilt in a single driving thrust, and was lost to the world.  All that existed was the woman beneath him and her hot enveloping tightness. Never before had he felt such a delicious velvety wetness.  Never before had he felt so divine.  She was his goddess. And he was her lord.

Teris’ toes curled, back arching at the wide, deep stretch.  Having been captured and held for a time only to escape and be brought to this world, it had been nearly a year since she had last had sex.  But she could've had sex yesterday and this still would've felt like the first time.

It wasn’t just Kai’s impressive cock.  It was the man.  The Dragon himself.  Molten gold eyes that could go from a comforting warmth to an incinerating fire in a flash.  Strong, deft body that could protect and kill.  Scent like arctic air and crisp, clean linen.  It was intoxicating.  He was intoxicating.

“Kai. Please.  Move.”  Teris implored, unable to move her own hips in his vise-like grip.

Her wish was both his joyful command and an irritant.  It rankled that she was still trying to rule things.  Still trying to control.  His mate must submit…  Mate. Claim mate.  Breed mate.

Kai pulled back and thrust forward.  His hips slammed against hers with an echoing slap that satisfied.  He groaned, feeling her cunt quiver around him, his dick twitching in response.

Teris gasped at Kai’s stirring cock.  When he held still again, she opened her mouth to plead once more. Seeing this Kai growled.  His punishing thrust knocked the air out of her.  His chest rumbled in approval at that.

Finally he set a pace.  It was hard and fast.  Purposeful. Claim. Breed.  Mate.

Sweat beaded on his brow.  His rolling muscles glistened with the effort of his work.  The sound of slapping skin and wet squelches filled the forest.  Teris’ lewd moans and sweet mewls adding to the auditory harmony.  Their mingling scent wafted through the air.  Taken up by the breeze and deposited far and wide.

Teris held onto the tufts of grass for dear life. Kai’s impaling cock hitting all the right places.  So driving and deep it made her see stars.  She didn’t know how long he could last at such a pace, but it didn’t matter.  She was already at her own climax.

Her quivering pussy clamped down around him as she was sent flying off the precipice.  She cried out, back arching, body locking.  Cramping fingers wrenched out clumps of grass. Green blades rained down around her head.  She clawed at Kai’s arms.

Kai grunted at the squeeze of her milking pussy.  The stinging scratches adding to the growing tight weight in his balls.  With two more thrusts, Kai buried deep inside her with a guttural groan, cock coming alive.

Still floating on the tidal wave of her release, Teris purred at hot cum that further filled her.

Kai held still a moment, coming to his senses.  His hand lifted, picking grass out of her hair.  Lovingly, he smoothed her hair back and kissed her brow.

It was a strangely sweet act that contrasted beautifully from the hard, fast fuck.  And Teris found herself purring again.

Kai blinked.  Still lost in the moment he hadn’t registered her first purr.  It was a tell that greatly narrowed down what kind of beast she was.  He filed it away for later pondering.  Right now he had more important matters to see to.

“Are you alright?”  Kai asked, slowly pulling out and letting her legs fall.  He wanted to watch his cum seep from her abused pussy.  Wanted to push it back in despite no chance of pregnancy.  But he had lost control and didn’t want to scare Teris off.  He needed to prove her that he was a good, caring mate.  Capable of seeing to all of her needs.

“That was… amazing.”  Teris breathed, head and vision still hazy.

Kai kissed her.  “We’re amazing.  We could be amazing together all the time.”

Teris’ eyes widened, mind instantly clearing of its lustful fog. This didn’t mean they were mated.  Did it?  Both Shouta and Kai said that Fourth’s were freer with sex.  Both had explained that mating required both parties to be knowing and willing of the bond. And while she had been very willing of the sex; she had not been knowing or willing of any lifelong connection. She wasn’t ready for that.  Nice as Kai was.  As much as she liked him.  She didn’t know him well enough to be bonded for life.

Needing to be sure, Teris carefully asked.  “So…  What does this change between us?”

Basking in the heady endorphins and pheromones of his first real release, Kai was sure Teris would want to be his mate.  She might even want to go again and become his mate this very moment.  Much as he liked that.  He would make her wait.  His mate deserved to be bound to him in a proper bed.  Not some filthy forest.

It struck him that she might not be ready to be mated.  If that was the case they could be companions for a time.  It would allow him to court her with her knowledge of it.

Nose brushing hers, Kai answered.  “It changes whatever you want it to, Beautiful.”

“So we’re not mated?”

Kai ceased nuzzling her.  “No.”

The beginnings of a frown tugged at his lips before she even asked her next question.

“And we’re not companions?”  She asked.

“If you’re worried I wouldn’t accept you--”

“I’m not ready.”  Teris said, cutting him off.

Kai’s expression hardened at her words and rudeness.

Seeing this Teris hurried to explain.  “You’re wonderful and I like you.  I like you a lot.  But it’s only been a little over two months since I was brought here and told I wasn’t human.  Before all that I didn’t even know Fourth's existed.  Let alone that their was this whole other realm.”

She paused, thinking about the scarred man that had captured her.  While now certain that he was a Fourth, she hadn’t know it at the time.  The only thing she knew then was that his blue flames were clearly inhuman. She shook away the thought, wishing to forget the terrifying experience that she hadn’t told anyone about.

Looking at Kai, she went on.  “It’s just a lot.  Everything is still so new and unknown.  I need to find my bearings.  Learn to stand on my own feet before I go looking for a boyfriend-- I mean, companion.”

Kai was furious for a split second.  She was already his.  He had claimed her.  He should just take her back to his Ilca dorm and lock her up until she learned her place.  Until she learned who she belonged to.  But even if he could force her to be his mate, he couldn’t act until he took his rightful throne.  He couldn’t even tell her such things.  Not with Council Elders arriving. Not with Aizawa being Teris’ Ilca Leader. If he became too aggressive and controlling, Teris could easily go to the Sphinx. As her Ilca Leader, Aizawa would have every right to keep her from him.  If push came to shove it could turn into a challenge.  And while Kai would love to fight and end the Sphinx, he couldn’t draw any undue attention his way.  Not when his plans were so close to being enacted.  Not when only a small handful of Council members were pledged followers of his.

“That’s rather rational.” Kai said, clearing his throat.

Teris relaxed, relieved.  “You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.”  Kai said.  And he realized that he wasn’t.  Not truly.

Teris wasn’t rejecting him.  She just wanted to be a bit more comfortable and confident in this world before committing herself to him. Now that he thought about it, it was understandable. Having lived his own life with so much uncertainty.  Not knowing if or when the ax the Council had hanging over his head would drop.  Wanting to be able to stand on your own was something Kai could respect and appreciate.

Teris smiled, thinking Kai really was so sweet and caring.

Kai gave her a gentle kiss.  “We can keep things as they are and simply seek release for now.”

Teris didn’t miss the ‘for now’ but chose to focus on the tantalizing prospect of seeking release with him again.

Kai pushed to his knees, and pulled up his pants and underwear. Teris sat up, pushing her bra back down and adjusting her breasts.  Grabbing his ruined shirt, Kai laid it over her shoulders.  A jolt shot threw him that went straight to his cock.  The sight of her engulfed in his clothes had him wanting to shove her down and fuck her all over again.

But Ryuu, his mentor, would be arriving soon along with a handful of other Council Elders. Later, Kai told himself, aggravated that he had to refrain.

It irritated that he was coming away from this without her officially being his.  It bothered that she didn’t even know that she was already his.  But he could wait. So long as he didn’t have to wait long, he could be patient.  If Teris wanted to wait until she was more comfortable and confidant in this world, then he would become the best damn teacher in Oblvi and see her so.

Gathering Teris’ clothes, Kai got to his feet and held a hand out to her. “Come on, Beautiful.  There’s a nearby hot spring we can get cleaned up at.”

***So this fic will have a LOT more world building than my others.  Please feel free to comment or send me an ask if you have any questions.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a special thank you to those who have left comments and/or reblogged. They really mean a lot.

Special thank you to @inorganicone2230 who knows of my love for the mythic and encouraged me to start this fic without stressing about the other two I’ve got going.  Your friendship means the world to me.

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Lone Wolf

Genre: Angst/Drama/Fluff

Pairings: Michael Clifford/reader

Word Count: 2882

Requested: by @clffrd for spooky!sos 2019

Trigger Warnings: violence/zombies/apocalypse/fainting/brief references to death

A/N: Effy, this concept ended me! I hope you enjoy this 💖

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It wasn’t much, but it was safe. That had been Michael’s view on his little storm shelter since the day he’d claimed it as his own. It’d only been a couple of months post-apocalypse when he’d stumbled across ‘his’ abandoned farmland.

The farm itself had already been destroyed when he’d stumbled across it but the little bunker was all he’d needed anyway. Throughout the year that followed the outbreak, Michael had fashioned the little storm shelter into something resembling a home. He’d filled it with essential supplies and weapons as well as few little comforting touches such as a couple of posters of games and movies he’d used to love.

Michael had always been somewhat of a ‘lone wolf’. He’d become estranged from his family long before the flesh eating disease destroyed the vast majority of humanity. He’d never been that good at making friends either, therefore his lack of human contact since the apocalypse, was nothing new to him.

Much to his dismay; a few months after Michael had claimed his bunker, a little group of survivors had set up camp just a couple of miles away. Their hulking vehicles and sprawling barricades ruined his view of the lake and he hated knowing that a bunch of strangers were so close to him and his little patch of land.

They’d rolled past the farm in their convoy of beaten up old camper vans about six months after the virus had hit. Michael had half hoped they’d all keep going but they’d deemed this particular patch of countryside too good to leave. 

He couldn’t blame them really. The clear streams and the huge lake, the sweeping hills and easy access to a bunch of little towns (which were still the best places to find certain types of supplies), all less than a day’s hike away, made this a pretty good place to call home these days.

Despite all of his reservations about the campers, Michael had decided to introduce himself very early on and make sure that they understood his boundaries. To his utter amazement, the other survivors had respected his wishes without hesitation. 

He’d been suspicious at the time, that the group were just biding their time - waiting for him to let his guard down so that they could dispose of him. It’d never happened, though. The worst thing they’d ever done is try to invite him into their ranks, which was just about a forgivable offence in Michael’s opinion.

Having lived alongside them for nearly a year, Michael had sort of grown used to their presence. It was almost comforting to look out over their camp sometimes. He also knew that they checked in on him occasionally, which was quite handy if ever there was bad weather or something that could potentially cause something to block the entrance to his bunker - at least he knew he wouldn’t be trapped in there for too long before someone noticed something was amiss.

The only thing that scared Michael now, was how much he was willing to rely on them. He didn’t want to be tied down to them but he was worried he was heading that way. 

To prove that he could still survive when he was entirely alone, Michael decided to take a long hike to a little town further afield than the ones he usually went to when he needed supplies. He knew it was a risk; he hadn’t made this particular journey more than a couple of times. Getting lost was a huge possibility and could easily result in a whole bunch of terrifying consequences.

This was something Michael had to do, though. If he was scared of making this journey, he’d already become too dependent on others. 

He managed to push back the niggling doubts that he had as he gathered up his supplies. It was important to travel light for this hike because some of the terrain was nothing short of punishing. A heavy backpack would be more of hinderance than anything else.

After packing just a few food items; his large water flask and a single blanket, Michael grabbed his trusted machete and stepped out of his bunker. 

The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Michael stepped outside and locked up his bunker. The lingering chill from the night before meant that he could see his breath in little wisps in front of him, as he went over his mental checklist. 

Once he was sure that he was as prepared as he could possibly be, Michael stored his weapon in his belt and set off towards the woods. 

***

You’d fought your way out of hundreds of scrapes and killed countless zombies in your bid for survival thus far. You’d never have imagined that you’d ever need rescuing by a complete stranger.

That’s exactly what’d happened though.

You’d been travelling alone for weeks - ever since the group of survivors you’d been with since the outbreak, had been scattered after a huge attack on the camp you’d built together.

Maybe it was loneliness or perhaps it could have been because of malnutrition or dehydration, but whatever the reason, you’d started making silly mistakes. It was one such error that lead to you becoming trapped in the back of one of the thousands of broken down vehicles littering the highway you were wondering down. 

You’d always known you should run and not hide from the undead. Fatigue had started to set into every inch of you, though. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to outrun the corpses tonight. Crawling into the back of a rusting van had seemed like your only option. You’d barricaded the doors as best you could with the few items that had been left in the vehicle.

Of course, the heap of useless metal became surrounded within minutes. The unnatural grunting and the terrifying sound of rotting fingers clawing at the outside of the van would be the last things you heard before you were eaten alive. That was the only conceivable outcome of this situation.

You’d basically accepted your fate by the time you heard something that gave you the tiniest hope of survival. The unmistakable sounds of a living, breathing human being fighting the corpses outside the van reached your ears and you felt relieved tears beginning to sting your eyes. 

After a few minutes the noises of fighting stopped and heavy footsteps made their way hesitantly towards the van. Despite your relief at being safe from the zombies now, you knew that there were a lot of people that used their new freedom from law and civilised society for evil purposes.

As the door of the van creaked open you cursed yourself again for getting yourself cornered like this. You were in no position or condition to fight, if this person wanted to hurt you, they wouldn’t have a very difficult job on their hands.

Clutching your weapons out of habit more than anything, you fixed your gaze on the dark figure that emerged through the small gap that your barricade would allow the van doors to make.

“Is someone in there?” 

The voice sounded kind of rough like it hadn’t been used much in a long time.

“There’s more corpses nearby, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here.” The man explained, keeping his voice low to avoid detection. “If you’re hurt, I can help you but we can’t stay here for long, unless you want to be a zombie snack.”

Trusting this man seemed like your best hope for survival. You also couldn’t deny the fact that you’d missed human company more than you can say. 

You inched closer to the doors, pulling aside your barricade just enough to squeeze out of the van. 

In the pale moonlight, the man that had saved you looked like some sort of angel. His pale skin and fluffy sandy hair gave him an air of softness that was the total opposite to the toughness suggested by his heavy boots, bloodstained clothes, machete and the stern expression on his handsome face.

“Can you walk?” He asked, as you staggered out onto the road.

Your head was kind of spinning with a weird mix of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. Still, it was hard not to take in the details of the scene you were faced with. The broken bodies of the zombies that would have certainly killed you a moment ago, lay motionless at the stranger’s feet.

“Just about.” You replied, unable to take your eyes off of the man in front of you. Thank you for helping I...” you faltered, dizziness overwhelming you for moment.

Before you could fully recover, the mysterious man hooked your arm around his neck as he gripped you steadily around the waist. He set of at a speed that you couldn’t quite match in your weakened state. 

You weren’t sure how long you were practically carried by the stranger. The ordeal back at the van had drained the last of your energy and you were struggling to remain conscious.

Vaguely aware that the stranger was comforting you with promises of safety and water, you tried your hardest to stay awake.

You failed.

***

Michael took care of you for two whole days. Supplying you with food, water and protection until your strength started to return to you. 

He’d discovered a little abandoned cabin in the woods lining the road he’d found you on. Most of the tiny building had been stripped of useful items but a ragged old sofa and some musty blankets had remained. It wasn’t ideal but it’d been enough to keep you relatively comfortable during in your recovery.

Michael had intended upon helping you find another group as soon as you were strong enough to walk again. He’d always helped people that needed it, human decency was the only thing he really had to offer alongside his skills with a machete. That was where his involvement with other people usually ended, though.

Somehow it felt different with you. 

From the moment you’d stumbled out of that rusting van, Michael had seen something in you that he’d never noticed in anyone else. 

Having been a loner for pretty much as long as he could remember, it was difficult for Michael to place his feelings for you. All that he knew was, the thought of leaving you hurt.

Between your frequent napping, Michael had learnt a lot about you. Besides the things you’d told him verbally, he was good at reading people. He knew by the way you always kept your weapons close that you were a smart fighter. The way you moved as your strength returned, told him that you were a confident person and the definition in your arm and leg muscles showed a degree of physicality that suggested you’d be tough to beat in a fight.

The thing that Michael found most intriguing about you, though, was the way you opened up to him and treated him with warmth as opposed to the cold, suspicion or indifference he was usually met with. 

What he didn’t realise was that your reaction to him was entirely out of character. You’d always been notoriously hard to get along with and since the apocalypse, you’d become dangerously suspicious of everyone... Everyone except the pretty green eyed man that had saved your life.

As your third day together dawned, Michael found himself struggling to accept that it was time to start heading back. He knew he had to find you somewhere safe to live, but for the first time in his entire life, the thought of being alone again wasn’t so appealing. 

As much as he’d hate to admit it, Michael was enjoying your company. He’d already told you things that he’d never planned on sharing out loud with anyone, let alone someone he’d known for such a short space of time. There was plenty more he wished to discuss with you, too.

“So today’s the day we start moving, huh?” You asked, a nervous tone creeping into your voice. “I bet you’re excited to get rid of me so you can head home, huh?”

Michael wanted to laugh it off but he couldn’t deny the sadness that spread through him at the very thought of not having you around anymore. It was odd to him; feeling so much for someone, especially someone who was still pretty much a stranger to him. 

His many conflicting feelings prevented Michael from responding to you. Pretending not to hear you seemed preferable to whatever his answer would be. 

When he remained silent, your heart sank a little as you assumed it was his way of confirming your suggestion. You scrambled to your feet and slid your knife into your belt before picking up your trusted baseball bat from the floor near the sofa. “I’m good to go on alone, if you’re that eager to be by yourself again.” You said, a note of steeliness in your tone that betrayed how hurt you felt by the fact he didn’t care for you as much as you’d hoped.

Michael’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his expression almost frightened. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you travel alone yet.” He replied finally. “I’d rather we stayed together for a bit longer, until you’re back at full strength.”

“Thanks for taking care of me, but I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore.” You explained, that hurt tone in your voice refusing to disappear fully.

“You’re not a burden!” Michael replied, scrambling to his feet before stepping closer to you. “I promised to keep you safe and I won’t feel like I’ve fulfilled that until you’ve found a new home. You just don’t strike me as a wonderer.”

Despite the obvious effort Michael put into choosing words that suggested he was doing this out of a sense of duty, you noticed the hint of sadness in his pretty green eyes and the way his fingers twitched nervously as though he didn’t know what to do with them.

“I think I could survive on my own.” You argue lightly, the doubt that Michael didn’t care for you in some way, dwindling by the second. “Maybe you’ve inspired me... maybe I could be a lone wolf, just like you.”

You’d meant it as a joke, not expecting to deepen the sadness in Michael’s eyes to an almost heartbreaking capacity. He tried to hide it but failed miserably as tears started to threaten to fall down his cheeks.

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He sniffed, trying to hide his emotion by tilting his face downwards, allowing his long fringe to shield his eyes from you. “I think you’d be better off within a group.”

Against your better judgement, you stepped closer to Michael, reaching up to cradle his cheek gently. There’s a moment of eye contact, so charged with different emotions, that they threatened to overwhelm you. Having an attraction towards someone was a luxury you’d thought had died along aside everything else when the world had ended. It seemed dangerous and almost unnatural to crave someone the way you were starting to crave Michael. “You can admit it if you want me to stay with you, Michael. I’m quite a catch, not bad at fighting either.” You aimed for a humorous tone, giving yourself an out if Michael hated the thought of being with you for longer than he had to be.

Some of the tension leaked out of Michael’s face as he pressed his cheek into your hold, his eyelids sliding shut gently. “You can do better than me.” He replied quietly. “I’m not good with people... I only know how to take care of myself.”

You let out a soft chuckle before placing a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You’ve taken care of me.” You argued. “I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you.”

Michael opened his eyes to meet your gaze and there was a split second that you thought he might kiss you but he seemed to second guess himself as his cheeks filled with colour and he took a step away from you. “I have a feeling you’d have found a way out.” He smiled awkwardly. “You seem like the type of person that the world can’t do without these days.”

The simple compliment filled your heart with joy as a smile curled your lips. “You mentioned the little group of survivors that live close to you.” You offer brightly, “do you think they’d take me in?”

Michael shrugged but there was a hopeful glint in his eyes. “I don’t see why not.”

“That’d be the perfect solution, wouldn’t it?” You asked, smirking a tiny bit. “I could come and visit you whenever you wanted...”

“I’d like that.” Michael replied with a genuine smile. “I think it’s about time I started welcoming guests to my little bunker.”

You pouted as you took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Not too many guests, I hope... I’d kinda like you to myself sometimes.”

He squeezed your fingers gently to show that he was happy with contact but didn’t acknowledge it in any other way. That didn’t matter, though, it felt right and Michael seemed to agree, that’s all that mattered.

Send Laura a request

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Tag list: @clffrd @byxthexway @afuckingunicornn @lukesahoy @thrillchaser @moonchildsblack @calumbbyyy @h0tsos @valentinelrh @sexgodashton @megz1985 @stonedahlia @myfalsedevotion @aulxna @honeyedlashton @tea4sykes

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 13

Chapter Summary - Tom tries to call Danielle but reaches Paul. Then he breaks up with Taylor but is that as easy as it seems.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog  @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1

“Hello?” Tom was about to speak until he heard the man’s voice on the other side of the line. “Hello?”

“Is this Elle’s phone?”

“Yes, she’s just in the shower at the moment. Is it important, I can get her if it is?” The man offered.

“No, it’s not important, well it can wait.”

“I see.” The other man did not sound overly convinced. “Will I tell her who called?”

“Please.”

“Right, so perhaps a name would be a place to start.” The man chuckled.

“Is my number not in her phone anymore?”

“It’s Tom, Diana’s son?” the voice seemed to realise then who he was.

“Yes, it is.”

“With all due respect Mr Hiddleston, Danni needs time, she is grateful for your statement, but you know, she’s a lot more vulnerable than she admits to being. What you exposed her to, it has caused her to be very upset, the kind that is not instantly fixed.”

“I know, I just want to make it better.”

“Then perhaps wait for her to contact you. I will tell her you called, but please do not do so again without her permission, if she wants to talk to you, can she call this number?”

“Yes.” Tom’s voice became and defeated. “Yes, she can.”

“I promise, I’ll tell her when she comes out.”

“You’re the doctor.”

“Paul, my name is Paul.” Paul corrected.

“I…I’m sorry for my rudeness the last time we met, for interrupting your day.”

“Somehow I do not think it was your intention to do so.” There seemed to be understanding in the other man's tone. “One moment.”

“Who are you talking to?” Tom heard as a hand went over the mouthpiece, having just heard a female voice muffled in the background, he recognised it as Elle’s, followed by a response and a small noise that could be accused of being a door closing.

“Sorry, I told her it was you, but she just walked away again.” Paul apologised. “When she is ready, I’m sure she’ll want to talk again.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem, and thank you for trying to fix things.”

“It took me long enough.”

“As the saying goes, better late than never,” Paul commented. “Goodbye, Mr. Hiddleston.”

When Tom hung up the phone, he sighed. He wanted to apologise to Danielle, she had said that when he had righted things when he was the Tom she knew, she would talk with him again, but she had actively left the room when she knew it was him on the phone. He felt somewhat angry at her for that.

“So no instant fawning at your feet then? She’ll bide her time, make it seem real.” He turned to see Taylor taking her boots off behind him.

“I don’t want to hear it. She is with someone, he seems to know her enough to be in the adjoining room to where she is showering, so clearly they are serious, so whatever bullshit you keep trying to fill my head with can stop.”

Taylor studied him for a moment. “Wow,” she laughed. “You are so pathetic.”

“We’re done Taylor, I’m done.”

The smile fell from her face. “What?”

“This relationship is over, I am going home, to London, to my family and friends and I am going to pretend the last few months of humiliation and ridicule never happened and get on with my life.” He stated plainly.

“So you,” she pointed to him “are breaking up with me?” she pointed to herself; Tom nodded. “I did what you asked.”

“Because you lied about my friend.”

She looked at him and erupted in laughter causing Tom to frown. “Fine, shoo, off with you so.” She made an ushering motion with her hand. “I can have any guy I want, why would I want you and your receding hairline anyway?” That caused Tom to flinch slightly. His hairline was something he had tried to not let bother him, but as fans compared set pictures from the four Marvel films, Tom was forced to acknowledge the timeline of his hairline's receding. “The most pathetic thing about this is that she has someone else now, so you end up with no one.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was wrong before,” Taylor admitted. “I thought the attraction was one way, but clearly, it’s not. I really should be more insulted, but when I think about it, she is short, plain and in serious need of a personal trainer, I am none of those things, and I never am going to be, so if that is what gets you hard, then clearly it is not my fault.” She shrugged.

“I…”

“Oh please, you are so blind.” She scoffed. “Did talking to her boyfriend, knowing she is probably only showering because they were at it get you annoyed? I mean, he could still have been sitting on the bed, naked after screwing her when he picked up her phone, telling you to get stuffed when he was stuffing her a few minutes before.”

Tom swallowed hard, the idea causing him to feel nauseous, had he not noticed before, when his mother mentioned Paul, and after seeing him in his mother’s house, he had become shorter tempered. Had Taylor actually figured out why? “You need to get yourself together Taylor and grow up.”

“You mean turn old before my time like you Tommy?” she gave him a disgusted look as she eyed him up and down. “No thanks.”

Grabbing his wallet, phone, and his bag, he walked out of the room, turning to look at Taylor one last time as he did. “I really did not think you were the person the tabloids wrote about.”

“I really thought you had a decent sized dick from your photo’s, guess we were both sorely disappointed.” She dismissed. “Don’t bother coming back to me when she doesn’t leave Doctor Low Standards for you straight away, even she seems to be grateful to not have to deal with you, he’s better looking, and he may actually still have hair in ten years, and I never take an ex back.” She started to play on her phone.

Even though it was Tom’s hotel suite, he checked out immediately, before getting into the nearest cab and requesting JFK airport. He rather a night waiting in a departure lounge than staying around Taylor any longer. Her words circled his mind a few times as he sat in the VIP section of the departure area, having paid extortionately to get back to London, via Berlin just to get in the air quicker. In truth, he realised the reason she never was seen again with her ex’s, was probably because they were usually avoiding her, grateful to get away. There was one thing that concerned him, however, her PR spin, she would use the whole debacle to spin her again as a victim, he was sure of it. Taking out his phone, he scrolled to Luke’s number immediately.

“Well, you did it, but she still made it about her, she’s good,” Luke commented, the sounds around him telling Tom he was in public.

“I ended it.”

“Thank you, Jesus.” Luke declared loudly.

“You’re not holy.”

“I might be after this. So, what was the reception?”

“Scoffing, not to mention a couple of dick and hairline blows.”

“Nice classy lady then.”

“Luke, why did I do it?” Tom rubbed his face in his hands.

“I think it had something to do with dicks and blowing as you just stated.”

“Really, jokes?”

“I can’t say, I never saw her as anything but a Siren, beautiful, but all she wants is your doom. Her next album will be interesting; ‘Why British Men Are All Pigs’ or something to that effect.”

“You don’t think she will write about this?”

Luke scoffed. “Tom, she writes about everyone that has even been accused of sticking their dicks in her, it is all she does. Find a victim, fuck him a few times, get her ass kicked to the nearest proverbial curb, and bitch about it for five songs straight. Except with you, she will have hideous humiliating pictures to boot.”

“Jesus.”

“Well I have Cathy, Tia, and Jonathon all keeping an eye on all online media sources, social media included, we are also going to have to run an explanation ourselves.”

“Nothing cruel.”

“Are you actually joking?”

“Nothing on her level.”

“Tom, I would need to get onto the planning authority and hire a fracking company to get to her level,” Luke argued. “She will run you through the dirt, you are aware of that.”

“We are not her, Luke.”

“And that is why she is worth a quarter billion, and you have, well, less than she pays in tax a year.”

“But every penny I earned with hard work.”

“I dunno, it seems to be an awful lot of work to piss off the amount of people she does, her level of dedication to her actions is commendable,” Luke commented.

“Luke?”

“I have something done, effectively you are not willing to let any too close, the exposure was too much and that you are not ready to dedicate as much time as a woman deserves to a relationship yet, meaning you want to wait until you are to get serious.” Luke rattled off.

“Makes me sound distant.”

“It does, in a way, but caring also, not wanting to tag someone along, no false promises,” Luke explained.

“And Danielle?”

“What about her, you did everything you could, and trust me, that is the closest you are going to get out of Swift.”

“Will she go for her again now?”

“Why should she?”

“She thinks I have a thing for Elle.”

“Oh well, this is going to get interesting.” Luke barked sarcastically. “I am going to go grey from you, Tom, I really am.”

[bloodline-rpg]

HAVEN CALDWELL // 24 // WITCH

❝ Today I'm thinking about the things that are deadly, the way I'm drinking you down, like I wanna drown, like I wanna end me. ❞

_______________________________________________________________________

BIOGRAPHY

Power — what everyone wants and so few get. Those who are lucky are born with it, silver spoons dangling out of the corners of their mouths, blissfully unaware of the struggles plaguing the less fortunate. Those who are not quite as lucky choose to take it, tear it from the grasp of those who hardly deserve it, and claim what’s rightfully theirs. You see, power is the empty chamber in a game of Russian roulette, and only a few ever dare to have the balls to pull the trigger. You have to play the game to be rewarded. After all, Haven Caldwell was always destined for more than what the world gave her.

In hindsight, it might be hard for one to believe Haven had been a happy child, the apple of her parents’ eye. They doted on her as any parents would, spoiled her the way only an only child could be spoiled. The streets of New York were her own personal playground, a concrete jungle gym just for her. As the child of an original witch, magic had never been a secret, whispered about in the dark as though it was something to be feared. Rather, it had been embraced, uplifted. Haven would sit at the kitchen table and watch with glee as fire sparked from her mother’s fingertips, flames licking at the skin. She would clap her little hands together and exclaim that the fire was the same color as her hair; her mother would coo at the excitement, press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, flames dissipating as quickly as they came. She always wanted to be just like her mother, imagining what it would feel like to have fire at her fingers, hungry for a power she just knew she had to possess. And her mother, her dear, darling mother… well, every mother wants a mini-me.

Of course, you don’t always get what you want. Holistic Witch. The result of splitting a bloodline one too many times; the result of a family not knowing how to take care of their own. The revelation had come when her mother could no longer hide it, when she stopped being able to explain it away with coos of “you’re just a late bloomer sweetheart,” when it became apparent to Haven herself that she and her mother were not one and the same. According to the story, her grandfather had fallen for a human, marrying for love and not for power ⁠— her mother, drunk on love and foolish… so very foolish, had made the same mistake. Her mother had been one of the lucky ones, the first result of the first split, still an Original. Still powerful, still lauded, still destined for greatness. Haven had not. Just as quickly as she yearned for the fire at her fingertips, she learned to resent the flames sparking from her mother’s. Holistic Witch. Destined to always be seen as less than, inferior. Her mother swore it didn’t change anything, that she could still be powerful, still be great, but Haven was far from stupid. This changed everything.

At sixteen, Haven’s relationship with her mother deteriorated. She grew far too resentful of the woman who had lied to her, kept her in the dark regarding the truth. She knew it killed her mother to watch her only daughter grow cold when they’d once been inseparable, but her mother kept her distance, knowing it was the least that she could do. Looking back on it, maybe Haven had felt a little guilty for pushing her mother away. But you know what they say about trust: it’s a mirror, and you can fix it when it’s broke, but you’ll always see a crack in the reflection. At seventeen, her mother bonded with a wolf familiar ⁠— he’d been nice, Haven supposed, though she didn’t have much of an opinion one way or another at first. He’d integrated into their world seamlessly, a long lost member of the family, a way to bridge the gap. It was a slow start, but his arrival had triggered something in Haven: she wasn’t quite ready to forgive her mother for the years of being left in the dark, but she was getting there. He’d offered them protection, security.

At eighteen, Haven discovered that the wolf was offering up dick in exchange for that protection. She was never meant to know; she wasn’t supposed to be home early that afternoon. She was supposed to be out with her friends, giggling her way down 5th Avenue, arms linked with a pretty girl who wore an even prettier smile. But she’d left her wallet at home, perched on the kitchen counter. It was only a quick detour to go back and grab it after school. She’d found them in the living room, her mother not having the decency to use her marriage bed, caught up in each other. One screaming match later and several pleas from her mother for her not to go, Haven was out the door, a fraction of her belongings in hand. Running away wasn’t the smartest or the most logical choice, but she couldn’t pretend everything was okay, that her mother hadn’t ruined everything over and over and over again.

She made the most of wandering on her own for a few years, relying on her mother’s naivety ⁠— the woman never cut her off, always hoping that Haven would see the error of her own ways and come crawling back. She made friends in both high and low places, listened to the whisperings of the magical world, biding her time and honing her craft. It had been a shock when the rumor first swirled, the murmurings of a witch who had achieved immortality pressed to the shell of her ear; the man who told her of the rumors knew of her desires and presented her with the golden ticket, sending her on her merry way.

Haven wanted power.

Thierry wanted a coven.

Maybe that was the beginning, and the end, of everything.

______________________________________________PERSONALITY/TRAITS

Ruthless. Calculating. Cold. Detached. Angry. They always used to say that Haven was only out for Haven, willing to send anyone and everyone down the river just to get herself ahead⁠—gone is the happy little girl clapping gleefully in her mother’s kitchen. She has a flair for the dramatics, thrives on being the center of attention. More than anything, though, she despises the notion of being weak. She refuses to be seen as less than and demands the respect she knows she deserves. Her behavior teeters on the edge of sadistic, though not without reason. Wolves don’t deserve respect, so why should she treat them with such? Though perhaps more than a little fucked up, she takes pleasure in toying with the wolves for her own amusement, just to keep herself entertained. It’s a stretch, however, to say she lacks humanity⁠—she isn’t a monster by her own definition, though if that’s how others perceive her, that’s on them. However, those she holds a soft spot for are few and far between. You know what they say: there’s something dangerous about the boredom of girls with nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

DETAILS

STATUS: TAKEN [ ORIGINAL CHARACTER]

Related bios: N/A

Species/Family info: Holistic Witch turned Immortal

Faceclaim: Madelaine Petsch

[selphiahaven]

Rune Factory 4 is my favorite game ever. The only thing I'd change is to have more interactions with Venti before she goes comatose. Like I'm supposed to give my life for her when I'm barely at 2 hearts? Really takes away from the story to me.

LET’S! TALK! ABOUT! VENTI!!

Dude I love this game like 5,000 percent but it does definitely have its flaws. I especially think there’s a l o t of lot potential that was lost with Ven and her relationship with the plot, but let’s focus on the issue you’re addressing: her going comatose without much a relationship with her. I totally agree. Let’s talk about it. LET’S A L L TALK ABOUT IT.

I’ll start with my long-ass opinion, but I wanna hear how y’all think about this. Because anon’s criticism is juicy. I wonder if other people would have ideas on how this could be better handled / if it even could be better handled than it is now.

Spoilers down below, so… Yeah, be warned about that.

I could make the argument that RF4’s plot is inherently flawed in design for the emotional weight that it’s trying to convey. Rune Factory 4 has an interesting dynamic where the “filler” is pushed into town events, where we can learn about all the different characters and their interactions before, after, or even during important scenes of the plot. Hell, you can participate in a festival and then decide to kick Ethelberd’s ass just to pass some time.

For some, this might be a good thing. On the other hand, you can clear through the game pretty quickly if you’re not dedicated to witnessing all the town events and hearing all the dialogue and participating in all the activities. Keep this in mind: the game expects us to believe that Frey/Lest would friggen sacrifice their life so that Leon can escape the Forest of Beginnings at the end of the first arc. This is how deep our relationship with Venti is supposed to go. Venti, however, remains comatose at the end of Obsidian Mansion until that moment. So given that, our relationship with Venti is supposed to be deep enough that we would sacrifice ourselves by the end of Obsidian Mansion; as we cannot converse with her after this point up until Leon is rescued. Frey/Lest refers to Venti personally after they have sacrificed themselves too, so it should be assumed that Frey/Lest did this act primarily for Ven’s sake, not necessarily for any other specific person in Selphia.

This immensely strong relationship doesn’t really seem warranted with such a quick plot in place. Keep this in mind: the first few playthroughs on Youtube finished Obsidian Mansion on the dates of Summer 4, Spring 29, and Spring 15. You COULD try and just mill around or experience the town to avoid the plot, but there are barriers: 1) At first, you’re only allowed one request a day, so you can’t occupy much time with that 2) Town events actually take a long time to trigger; you could wait uneventful day after day and not trigger anything at all. 3) Things like crafting and forging need objects that you can only find in dungeons as you progress the game, so you can’t bide your time trying to level up / get cool new armour/weapons either. At the same time, this game really, really shouldn’t push us to slow down by making some of these “extracurriculars” mandatory (Imagine the frustration if you could only progress the plot via way of “Memories” again and again).

So here’s the difficult question: How do we make Ven interact with the player more, earlier on in the story, without making the plot too long or too boring?

I was super interested in trying to think up with potential ways to fix a problem like this, so they are listed below. They may come with their own set of problems, but hey, it was fun to think about what could have been. These are all just casual suggestions, not meant to be taken seriously at all.

1) Trigger a town event with Venti early on. Like, within the first few days of playing. Remember “Shiny Memories”? Funnily enough, that was one of my first events triggered in my very first playthrough of this game. Seeing Ven save Doug from being a fukkin dork and falling off that roof really made me feel closer to Ven early on in game. It was definitely confusing later on though, when Doug got all pissy about Ven killing his village or something. I couldn’t believe Doug for a second because Ven had already shown kindness to him without need of recognition, so… Maybe making different, very casual, town events that don’t make me doubt the plot would be a plus.

2) Make a sidequest or two. What if Amber’s dungeon wasn’t the first dungeon you could go to? Or, even better, what if there was some kind of dungeon / area / plotpoint in the first arc that hints at what’s to come in the second arc? (Another big complaint of mine about this game is that Ethelberd seems to come right the fuck outta nowhere. But that’s a complaint for another time.) I’m just spitballing here, but having a few dungeons that are “just for fun” or even just to slow down the plot a bit could be a benefit; as long as they aren’t used in excess. Benefits could include rare crafting materials, or strong pets to use in plot battles. This might give players a few more days of interacting with Venven, thus, getting closer to her over time.

3) Swap the “Freeing Guardians” plotline with the “Finding Rune Spheres” plotline. In the first arc, we seem mostly concerned with saving the guardians, and then finding the rune spheres, and then saving Leon and finishing the first arc. What if you searched for the Rune Spheres first (Perhaps with a, hint hint, few more dungeons instead of using the ones the guardians are in?)? Picture this: Frey/Lest finds a sphere, and feels that it’s…very familiar, and very important, for some reason. But…What’s that? The sphere looks as if it’s kind of broken! As if there are other pieces missing… Aha! Maybe if you find the missing pieces, you could remember something! You go a-searchin’, and by exploring new dungeons, you have more time with Ven, and eventually stumble upon Amber by mistake.

4) Be risky with Ven’s relationship to the town. What if Venti resting on her ass and deciding not to be involved with the town’s affairs causes some unrest in Selphia? Not suggesting blatant fighting or anything, but basically like… People wondering why she can’t use her powers to help out people and make her town prosper? Maybe not having everyone like “Omg Ven!!! We love Ven, Ven’s so nice and loooove her 1000%” in the beginning. It’s cute and all like this, but like… What if Doug used her “laziness” to form a basis to his flawed logic? What if Venti was rumoured to have the power to, I don’t know, cure Blossom? Ven knows she totally can’t cure Blossom. If she was more powerful, maybe the runes in the Earth would make Selphia a healthier living space for Blossom?? I don’t know. But like. What if. What if Venti used to do all this shit to help the town, but slowly stopped. What if people think she’s just lazy. What if people don’t think she’s an angel 24/7. I mean, I get it. She’s a god. Before she was revealed to have a “cute side” to her, everyone thought she was this hard-ass or smth. But I mean. You can view your bosses or your teachers or your parents as people to admire, but still have complaints with them. You can love someone and still not understand some of their quirks. Ven could be a mysterious figure early on. Generate some interest about who she is or why she is. Then, when we actually are told “oh ye lol I was getting weaker all this time” it’s not completely out-of-the-blue because we WANTED to know more about her, because so many things already seemed strange about her.

5) Add some drama. Speaking of Blossom, why don’t Venti and Blossom have a tragic relationship? A heartbreaking relationship where only time will tell which one of them lives longer than the other? Make. Venti. Weak. Why CAN’T Venti show signs of weakness even before Amber is released? Picture this: In the beginning scenes, Ven shows off some of her power to Frey/Lest. Could be something fukkin basic; I dunno. Let’s use what’s shown in Shiny Memories as an example: Ven can use the wind to make people float a lil bit. Cool. That’s established. Few days pass, and the event Shiny Memories triggers. Ven DOES NOT help Doug, and he gets hurt. Frey/Lest confronts Ven, and wonders why she didn’t help him?? Ven tries to make up a lie, to show off that she isn’t as weak as she seems. When, in reality, she’s losing power and couldn’t help him at that time. Don’t want Doug getting hurt? What about an event where Frey/Lest just simply asks Ven to use her powers to help them reach a cup or smth from a high shelf. Ven grows weak, starts breathing heavily and struggling to maintain herself just by trying to use that simple magic, even though she claims to you that she’s fine. Here, Frey/Lest makes a promise to help Ven with whatever they are suffering with, but then Ven admits there’s nothing in Selphia that can help them recover. Frey/Lest acknowledges that this means that there must be something outside Selphia’s walls that could help Ven, and THAT’S when they decide to go to Amber’s dungeon.

6) Slightly change some of Ven’s dialogue. Venti has always seemed like a best-friend type of character to Frey/Lest. This would make sense if she was a goddamn marriage candidate (which she isn’t, ugh, I might get over this, one day), but since she isn’t, why not change her dialogue to be more motherly? “Frey/Lest, you’re doing such good work on the farm! I’m so proud of you!” or “Are you sure you’re eating enough? Please, take this.” or even like “I know this is a lot of work for you, please take some days to rest.” These are really cliche lines, but like, I hope you get the point I’m trying to make. A lot of Ven’s dialogue is really playful, which kinda makes sense since Frey/Lest is the only one to see the “real her”. But…at the same time, I can imagine us getting way more protective over someone who actively has been telling us to take care of ourselves over and over again. Ven kinda tells you to take care of yourself, sometimes, but there are times when she seems to be a bit… I dunno. A tsundere type, for lack of a better term? I mean, I think tsunderes are cute and all, Dylas’s dialogue is some of the funniest in game, but it’d be hard to convince someone to sacrifice their life for Dylas and only give them a month to get to know him, you feel? Meanwhile, I would murder ten people for Clorica. That’s not really on topic but it’s definitely a fact.

Who knows. Maybe the developers thought of these options and decided on this route because the other directions this plot could’ve taken had their own issues that couldn’t be solved. It’s fun to think of what could have been though. Highly recommend trying it.

[ladylynse]

Crossroads - a Gravity Falls/Over the Garden Wall crossover

Summary: Mabel and Dipper have dealt with a demon before, so when they wind up lost in the woods and are given two choices by a creepy kid with a lantern, they make sure to pick the third option—but every choice has consequences, even when you don’t play by the rules. (FF.net; AO3) Length: 7.5 K Rating: K+

For @paperhoodie, who drew a beautiful cover (deviantart) for this fic once it turned into a collaboration instead of a birthday present.

Mabel shrieked as she fell. It was just light enough for her to see Dipper skid to a halt in front of her, but she was already rolling over and kicking out, trying to free herself. Thorns cut into her skin, gripping her ankle and tightening as she tried to work the branch—vine—whatever—loose. The bramble kept tearing into her flesh, so she finally gave up fighting directly and settled for scooting backwards across the uneven ground. Her palms brushed something prickly and rough, and she flinched back. She didn’t need her hands caught in a similar trap. Because this was a trap. The flora seemed to have a mind of its own in this place.

Mabel felt Dipper’s arms wrap around her, even as tiny tendrils tried to curl around her fingertips. He managed to pull her free, finally snapping the bramble around her ankle in the process, and helped her to her feet. Mabel brushed some of the debris from her sweater, fingering its newest hole before deciding to ignore it.

She had about as easy a time with that as she did ignoring the blood that was seeping into her sock, the throbbing pain in her ankle, or the dull ache in her hands and knees where she’d hit the ground. But that would go away; she’d had to deal with worse than this before. The most important thing was finding some way out of these woods.

“Think you can walk?” asked Dipper.

Mabel put some weight on her foot and winced as pain shot up her leg, but she nodded. They didn’t have a choice. If she hadn’t lost her grappling hook after their tumble over that wall….

“We’ll find our way out of here,” Dipper said as if he were reading her thoughts. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d managed that, and it wouldn’t be the last. “This isn’t the worst place he could have trapped us.”

Mabel didn’t need to ask who her brother was referring to. She knew they were thinking the same thing. She picked a branch out of her hair before it decided to come alive and try to strangle her. “He shouldn’t have been able to do this. We erased him.” But they’d erased Grunkle Stan’s memories, too, and had been able to bring those back. What if they’d accidentally brought Bill back, too? What if that’s why he’d been able to get Waddles to run away? What if he’d led Waddles here, wherever here was, to get the two of them hopelessly lost on a recovery mission? They hadn’t even seen Waddles since coming into the woods

Bill Cipher shouldn’t be able to do any of this, not after how they’d left him.

“Maybe we just weakened him. Or maybe he’d made another deal, as a backup or something.” She could recognize Dipper’s grim tone; it was his ‘focused’ voice. “We can’t worry about that now. We have to find our way out of here.”

As if they knew how. These woods weren’t like the ones in Oregon, and Mabel was pretty sure they weren’t in California anymore. This place just felt wrong. It was like being trapped in Mabeland again once Dipper had exposed it for what it was, except that this place was more like a creepy nightmare than a place where everything appeared perfect at first glance.

She didn’t think Waddles was here anymore. She wasn’t even sure he ever had been; they hadn’t found any tracks. She and Dipper had stopped calling for him when they’d gotten the feeling that they weren’t alone, even though they hadn’t seen anything besides trees.

“Let’s see if we can find the path again,” she decided.  ”Waddles is smart; he’ll have found his way home by now.” She wasn’t convinced they’d find the elusive trail, wasn’t sure they’d ever been on one, but they didn’t need one. They could carve their own path out of this place if they had to. They were the Mystery Twins. It was going to take more than a couple of acres of spooky woodland to stop them. “And we’ll be right behind him.”

“So you can fix your sweater?”

Mabel grinned, not surprised Dipper had noticed her dismay. “So I can fix my sweater,” she agreed happily. Bill Cipher’s associations hadn’t spoiled her love for her shooting star sweater, so she certainly wasn’t going to let something like this be the end of it. “And then put the finishing touches on my Summerween costume so it’ll be ready by the time we get there.” It felt good to have something like that to look forward to, and tomorrow’s trip back to Gravity Falls was bound to bring another adventure.

Dipper was looking forward to it, too, if not for the same reasons as Mabel. He’d rather have a long discussion with Fiddleford than prank Pacifica, but it would be good to see everyone either way. Dipper hummed his agreement and started forward, keeping his arm around her for support. She gratefully leaned on him. These woods…. Yeah. There was definitely something wrong with them. It was enough to remind her that they weren’t in Gravity Falls and weren’t yet surrounded with all their friends and allies. This place looked like a proper forest, and it smelled like one, and it had felt like one when she’d been introduced to the forest floor, but it didn’t sound like it should.

It was quieter here than she was used to. No birdsong. No crickets. No frogs. Just the odd howling of the wind, a faint swoosh of leaves, a creaking branch here and there, and a suspicious rustle in the underbrush that she’d call gnomes if she didn’t know better. It was gloomy, too, as if it were dusk fading to darkness when it should be closer to noon. Of course, most of these trees had dropped their leaves, as if it were autumn and not the middle of summer, so that wasn’t really surprising. It was just another clue that they weren’t in the real world anymore.

That didn’t mean this wasn’t real, of course. Just that it was a construct. Or another dimension. Or both.

It seemed to be getting darker as they moved deeper into the woods, and she couldn’t tell if that was because the trees were getting thicker or because that much time was passing. She really had no idea how long they had been gone. If they had actually ended up in the same place as Waddles, he could’ve led them out of here. Waddles was a good pig like that. A lot smarter than most people thought. She almost wished he were here, except she didn’t want him to be in danger.

The dangers in this place might not be easy to see, but she knew they were there. She trusted her instincts. It was more than just the trees, whatever the trees were. If this place was real, then it didn’t follow the rules she knew to be true, which probably meant she couldn’t trust her eyes or, really, any of her other senses. And if it wasn’t real…. Well, if it wasn’t, then she really couldn’t trust anything to be what it seemed, not when it could be whatever Bill wanted it to be. She’d have to depend on her gut.

“Dipper?”

“Yeah?”

“What if he set this up before? What if we just, I dunno, turned it on somehow? Triggered it? Made it come to life, even if he’s not here?”

“We’re not going to be stuck here.” Dipper sounded more confident than he was, and anyone who didn’t know him well might have actually believed him. “Look up ahead. Isn’t that a light?”

It did seem to be one, shining brighter than the moon and not dancing about like a will-o’-the-wisp. Still a trap, her mind whispered, but they didn’t have any choice, and Dipper was taking precautions. He adjusted their course so that they angled toward the light from the left instead of coming at it directly; it was better to scout it out first if possible. Progress was slower than before, and not much quieter even though they were being careful, but at least the trees weren’t trying to grab them now. Whatever that had been, it seemed to be over.

That, or the trees—or whatever sentience was behind them—were just biding their time and waiting for them to make a mistake. Or they’d been deliberately herded here. She wasn’t going to rule out anything at the moment.

It took a good ten minutes longer than Mabel had expected, but finally the forest thinned and spilled out onto the shore of an endless expanse of black water. A lake, maybe, since it looked as still as glass. It reflected a perfect twin of the true source of the light, a lantern hung on a pole held by a boy in a funny red hat. He looked a bit like a giant gnome, actually, just minus the beard, especially in that old-fashioned cloak of his. He had been resting on the gunwale of a wooden rowboat pulled up on shore, but when they approached, he straightened, standing taller than either of them.

He didn’t seem surprised to see them.

Still, he was the first person they’d seen in forever, and he was kinda cute. Even as Dipper tensed, Mabel got straight to the point. “Can you point us to the nearest road?”

“This is the closest you’ll come to a crossroads here,” the boy said. “This is the In-Between.”

“In between what?” Mabel asked, still trying to figure out when the inevitable trap was going to be sprung.

The boy shifted, turning to look just at her instead of both of them, and she shivered as his gaze pierced through her. Scratch cute. Something about him—like everything else—was wrong, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it immediately. His stare was cold. Dead, almost, if it weren’t for that intense focus. There might as well have been demon eyes staring out at her from his face. Not Bill’s eyes, but…something else’s. Someone else’s. Which definitely wasn’t impossible because Bill definitely had friends, or at least interdimensional creatures that he pretended were friends so he could attempt to manipulate them.

The boy’s answer didn’t convince Mabel he wasn’t possessed or completely composed of magic or dream dust stuff in the first place. “You stand at the edge of the Unknown.”

A glance told Mabel that Dipper wasn’t getting this, either, and he was the smarter of the two of them. She hoped he’d figure something out sooner rather than later. She gave the boy a brilliant smile, letting the lamplight catch on and reflect off her braces. “So how about you tell us how to get back to the Known, handsome?”

Her charms had no apparent effect. “That is a choice only you can make.”

Mabel frowned; that answer didn’t make any sense to her. She turned back to Dipper, leaning in to whisper into his ear. “Something about this guy stinks. Is he even real?”

Dipper didn’t answer her, which probably meant he hadn’t figured that out yet. “What are the options?”

One of the options had to be the boat, which had definitely seen better days. It didn’t look like it could fit three of them. She wasn’t even sure it would hold one without sinking. They shouldn’t need to cross this lake since they’d never crossed one in the first place, but if this was one of Bill’s traps, then they were less likely to die if they played along until figuring out the best way to bust out of here.

She concentrated on the boat for a few long seconds, imagining it sprouting a mast and sail and everything else, but absolutely nothing changed. Wherever they were, imagining things didn’t make them real. That wouldn’t make escaping any easier, but it had been worth a shot.

The boy’s head swivelled towards Dipper. “You can cross,” he said, gesturing with his free hand to the lake behind him, “or you can stay.”

Mabel had a feeling they weren’t going to be picking either of those options. Dipper liked to figure out what the rules were and then break them; she saw no problem with that, even though she was just as happy to charge in without a plan. Still, Dipper continued the conversation as if they were perfectly content to play along. As if they’d never been tricked by a demon before. “Why would we cross if we’re trying to get home? We didn’t come from that direction.”

“Are you sure?” There was amusement in the boy’s voice this time, a sort of dark gloating as if he were confident that he knew far more than they. “You’ve lost the path and lost your way, and the forest is not kind.”

“This is the first time we’ve seen the lake,” Mabel interjected.

“Is it really?” The boy’s head cocked to one side as he asked, and suddenly Mabel doubted herself, doubted Dipper. What if they’d gotten turned around at one point? They could have walked along the lake’s shore before and not realized it was there. The trees were thick, and with no wind, there was no sound of lapping water.

Except.

Except she could still hear the wind, moaning through groaning trees and skittering about loose leaves, and she could see it catching the boy’s cloak as readily as it caught her own hair, and she could feel the cold biting in gusts through her sweater.

But the lake was still.

She took a step back, only remembering her injured ankle as pain spiked upwards to her knee. “Dipper—”

“I know.” Dipper hadn’t kept step with her, but he let her go and she watched as his hands balled into fists. He felt this, too. It wasn’t just her. And after helping her along, he knew she wouldn’t be able to outrun this guy if it came to that.

“Look, whoever you are,” Dipper said to the boy, “if you’re not going to help us, what are you doing? Trying to stall us?”

Mabel hadn’t been expecting an answer, but the boy’s face split into a too-wide grin. “I keep watch for lost souls,” he said. “Keep the lantern lit. Guard the woods. Help you to cross, if that’s your deci—”

Dipper’s fist caught the boy on the corner of his jaw. The boy’s head snapped sideways and he stumbled back, one of his flailing arms catching the lantern pole as he fell into the boat and cracked his head on the side. Mabel lunged forward to catch the falling lantern before it hit the water; it was almost completely dark out now, and clouding over to boot, so the lantern was their best source of light. She climbed carefully to her feet, not wanting to put so much as a toe in that water, and turned back to Dipper, who was cradling his left hand.

“I forgot how much this hurts,” he hissed, wincing as he straightened his fingers. “I think I might’ve broken something.” He didn’t mean that, though; she could see him wriggling his fingers, and this wasn’t Dipper’s first time in a fistfight anyway. It probably wouldn’t be his last.

Sure enough, Dipper’s arm snaked around to support her a second later. “C’mon, we need to go. Can you keep hold of the light or do you want me to carry it?”

Mabel shrugged him off, lifting the lantern higher to get a better look at the boy who was sprawled across two seats and a pair of oars. “He’s out cold,” she said. “We don’t need to run away before we have answers.”

“Mabel—”

“It’s not like we’d make it far with the lantern, anyway. He could follow the light. But look at him, Dip. He looks young. Like us. What’s to say he isn’t human, too?”

“I don’t know, maybe the way he was acting? Or talking? Or the fact that he’s here in the first place?” Dipper threw up his hands. “What’s it matter? You even said you didn’t think he was real!”

“That was before you caught him by surprise, and between you and the boat, you knocked him out. Demons aren’t that easy to take down, and neither are their creations.” She waited a few seconds to see if the boy would move. He didn’t. “I don’t think he’s faking. He hit his head pretty hard on the boat.”

Dipper didn’t look convinced. “He isn’t real.”

“But what if he is? What if he’s just trapped here? Like we are? Do you really want to leave him here?”

Dipper rolled his eyes. “Mabel, none of this is real. Why would he be?”

“He’s here, and no one else seems to be.” Dipper opened his mouth, but Mabel cut him off. “That alone would raise flags, so why not create a more welcoming situation if you were trying to trap someone? He didn’t exactly lull either of us into a false sense of security.” Unless that’s what this is, her mind whispered, but she ignored it. This was one of the times it was better to follow your heart than your head. If they could help, she didn’t want to just leave someone here. “And even if he was possessed earlier, he might not be now. Limitations of the human body, remember?”

“I got possessed one time!”

“You made a mistake. Maybe he did, too.” She pointed at his hat, which had landed at their feet. “Grab that for me, will you?”

Dipper frowned but did so, handing it to her. Mabel inspected it for a moment, noting its fraying hem and other imperfections she wouldn’t expect to see from a mere fabrication. Bill hadn’t given everyone in Mabeland flaws, and she was pretty sure that wasn’t just because it was meant to be perfect. He hadn’t spent enough time in their world to know the little sorts of details to look for when it came to making stuff real.

But this? This was real. She was confident in that. Bill’s hat and tie had been more illusion than reality, altering or regenerating as necessary. They hadn’t ever shown wear. But this had character, had a story behind it…a story that might only be known to the boy who had been wearing it.

“This is missing its outer trim,” she said quietly. “You can see where someone’s been at it with scissors. It might be an old Santa hat.” She looked back at Dipper. “It’s definitely not the quality I’d expect from someone like him.” Dipper would know who she meant; that was one of the reasons he was so eager to get out of here. And she understood that, she did, but she also trusted her gut. “I don’t think this guy’s our enemy, bro-bro. I think he’s in the same boat as us. And he might have more answers than we do.”

Dipper stared at her, but he knew when she’d made up her mind. He also knew how often he was actually successful in changing it. “I’m not getting in that boat,” Dipper muttered finally, but he reached over to shake the boy awake.

The boy groaned as Dipper’s prodding pulled him back to reality. His eyes opened, quickly closed, and then slowly blinked open again. A trace of confusion crossed his features before he pushed himself upwards with a muttered curse, one hand tentatively touching the back of his head and his jaw in turn. He looked at the two of them with suspicion—not unexpected, given where they were. Wherever this was. “Where’s Greg?” he asked, his voice sounding more natural this time, less…less demon-y. No gloating smugness or vague threats, just sincere concern, a healthy helping of wariness, and a touch of fear.  “Who are you guys? And where….” His voice trailed off, and his eyes grew wide.

Mabel noticed he was staring at the lantern she held. The blood had drained from his face and he swayed where he sat, rocking the boat. Dipper reached out to steady him, and the boy flinched away, regaining some of his composure even though he still looked like a ghost.

“I’m Mabel,” she said, taking pity on him. “That’s Dipper. We were looking for Waddles. He’s my pig. I’m guessing you haven’t seen him.”

“I’m Wirt,” the boy whispered. He was still fixated on the light. “Where did you get that lantern?”

“From you.” She held out his hat. “This is yours, too.”

Another flash of fear. She wondered if the hat itself was somehow tied to whatever had been possessing him, but he climbed out of the boat with Dipper’s help and took the hat back. He clutched it tightly in one hand and opened his cloak with the other, staring at his clothes with growing confusion. “This is my Halloween costume.”

He hadn’t spoken loudly enough to be directing that comment at them, but Mabel flashed him another smile as if he had. “You mean Summerween costume. Halloween was ages ago, but Summerween’s next week!”

Dipper caught her eye and shook his head. Mabel stuck her tongue out at him in return. Dipper, of all people, shouldn’t point fingers when it came to accidentally agreeing to demonic possession. The boy—Wirt—probably hadn’t realized what he was doing. Sure, she didn’t have solid proof that he’d been possessed, but it seemed like a pretty good guess, and the fact that Dipper wasn’t grabbing her and trying to run meant that he thought so, too, and was willing to give the boy a bit of rope. He’d have a chance to prove he was the human boy he seemed to be, and they’d watch to see if the demon—if he was still a demon, which was undoubtedly Dipper’s view even if it wasn’t hers—accidentally hanged himself in the meantime.

Still, as far as she could tell, whatever demon had been possessing Wirt had been forced back into the astral plane, and his real spirit had taken the opportunity to reclaim his body. The apparent amnesia was new, admittedly, but it wasn’t a stretch to think that the effects of demonic possession differed depending on which demon was actually doing the possessing.

Or maybe the demon had just been controlling him and not full-out possessing him? Just planting suggestions or using him more like a marionette than a sock puppet? That might explain the amnesia. She’d have to ask Dipper when this was over. She didn’t want to scare the poor boy off when he’d just regained his senses.

Wirt looked between the two of them before turning in a slow circle, even though he wouldn’t be able to see much beyond the circle of light cast by the lantern. “Is Greg still here? What about Beatrice?”

“You’re the first person we’ve seen,” Dipper said. “And I know you must be worried about Greg and Beatrice, but this is important. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I’d promised to take Greg for ice cream,” Wirt said slowly, “so we went, and then we ran into Sara and….” He shrugged helplessly, spreading his hands. “I put my foot in my mouth, I guess, but she was really nice about it, and…. I dunno. She was going to come back to our place. To listen to some music. It’s a thing we do.”

“But this was on Halloween?” Dipper prompted.

Wirt started to shake his head, winced, and said, “No, it’s summer.” He looked out at the bare trees, at the leaves rustling on the ground, and shuddered as the wind curled its icy fingers around him. “It’s supposed to be summer.” He shoved the hat back onto his head. “Halloween was months ago. It’s supposed to be over.”

Dipper’s eyes narrowed. “What’s supposed to be over? Did you run into anyone—anything—strange on Halloween? Did you make any deals?”

“I don’t….” Wirt wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. “This doesn’t matter. I can’t stay here. I need to find Greg. I’m responsible for him.”

Dipper caught his arm as he started to move away. “Did you make any deals?” he repeated. “Anything that might be taken as a deal?”

“Or would anyone have made one on your behalf?” Mabel added. “That could’ve happened if you ever told someone they could make a decision for you.”

Wirt just stared at them, so Dipper released him in favour of pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look,” he said, “I know this sounds crazy, but demons are real. And Mabel and I, we think that’s why you’re here. You must have made a deal with one because you weren’t yourself when we came across you. You were—”

“You were all spooky,” Mabel interrupted. “Smiling too wide, saying vague, menacing things. All ‘this is the In-Between’ and ‘you stand at the edge of the Unknown’ as if that explains anything.”

From the look on Wirt’s face, he didn’t appreciate her accompanying hand gestures and facial expressions. But the names also sounded familiar to him, unless she’d misjudged that flicker of recognition in his eye.

Dipper hadn’t missed it, either. “Does that make sense to you?”

“I can’t be back here,” Wirt said. “I can’t still be here. You were talking about deals, right? The Beast offered me one, but I didn’t take it. Greg…. Look. You’ve got to understand. He was turning into Edelwood. The forest was consuming his soul or claiming it or something like that, so the Beast offered to take his soul and put it in the lantern instead. Then, as long as I kept it lit, Greg wouldn’t be gone. I mean, for a second, I was tempted, but then I thought about it, and that’s dumb, isn’t it? To wander around these woods forever, trying to keep a lantern lit? So no. I didn’t take the deal. Beatrice and I freed Greg, I gave Beatrice the scissors she needed, and Greg and I got out of there. Out of here.”

“Wait, Greg’s your brother, right? So who’s Beatrice? Why did she need scissors if you were stuck in the woods? Or were they a special pair of scissors? And what’s Edelwood? And—”

“What do you mean by the Beast?” Dipper cut in, overriding Mabel’s questions.

“Just…the Beast.” Wirt spread his hands, as if the name explained everything. “I think he’s the one who turns people—lost souls—into trees. Into Edelwood. So their oil can keep the lantern lit. But he’s gone. It was his soul in the lantern all along. When I figured that out, the Woodsman blew it out.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked. “It’s usually not that easy to get rid of a demon.”

Wirt crossed his arms. “We got the one out of Lorna easily enough once we realized. Who are you two, anyway? Why are you such an authority on demons?”

“We saved the world by stopping Weirdmageddon,” Mabel said, enjoying as confusion settled back onto Wirt’s face. “Not just us, of course. We had help, and Grunkle Stan was the real hero. But believe me, if that triangle had gotten his way, somewhere like this—” she waved her free hand at their surroundings “—would be downright normal.”

“We think he’s behind us being here,” added Dipper. “Maybe he got to you, too, if it wasn’t this Beast you mentioned.” He frowned. “You said lost souls were turned into this Edelwood, right? So they were consumed by the forest to feed the Beast? Did you offer to switch places with Greg once you realized what was happening to him?”

“No,” Wirt said, sounding as if that was the stupidest idea he’d ever heard, “I just tried to pull him free.”

Mabel looked at Dipper and realized what he was thinking. “But Greg is your brother.” Wirt hadn’t denied that assumption, at least. “So what if…what if he found you turning into a tree and couldn’t free you? What if he offered to switch places with you? What if that’s why he was in that position in the first place?”

“Freeing him would have broken the terms of the deal he’d made, rendering it null,” Dipper agreed. “That could be why you’re here.”

“That’s crazy,” Wirt said, but he didn’t sound convinced. “Greg just ran off.”

“Are you sure? Even if he woke up and saw you being turned into kindling?” Mabel looked over at Dipper; she was speaking to him as much as she was to Wirt. “I’d offer to trade places if it were my brother and it was the only way to free him. And Grunkle Stan offered to trade places with Grunkle Ford, even knowing what that would mean. And Dipper and I, we’re….” This time, she wasn’t shivering because of the wind. “The demon we think trapped us here. He shouldn’t have been able to do that. But we tried to save Grunkle Stan, to bring his memories back, so maybe we brought back a piece of Bill Cipher, too.”

It was the first time she’d spoken his name since coming here, and she half-expected him to appear, but the world seemed empty but for the three of them.

Wirt was the one to break the stretching silence. He took the lantern back from Mabel. “I never made any deals, and I don’t know anything about some Bill Cipher, but if everything that I remember happening since Halloween is a lie, I need to find Greg. I need to—” His voice hitched. “I need to make sure he’s safe.”

That he’s not a tree. That’s what Wirt meant. But pointing it out wouldn’t make him feel any better. “So do you know where we are?”

Wirt hesitated. “Not exactly. I don’t remember being in this part of the woods. But I’m more likely to recognize a landmark than you are.”

“What landmark?” Dipper muttered as he walked back to Mabel. He offered her the abandoned lantern pole to use as a walking stick, and she took it, deciding she couldn’t afford to be picky until she could run again.

“Another cursed body of water, maybe,” Mabel said under her breath, taking one last glance at the black lake.

Dipper huffed in reply. She knew he didn’t like this situation. He didn’t trust Wirt. He definitely didn’t trust that Bill wasn’t behind this or that whatever demon had been possessing Wirt was actually gone.

Wirt held the lantern high overhead, and they stayed just within its light. Dipper started mumbling to himself within minutes, and after a while, Mabel asked him what he was going on about. “If we’re right,” he said in a low voice, “about his brother making a deal, then shouldn’t he be a tree right now?”

“He told us what he knows,” Mabel pointed out, “not necessarily what’s actually the truth. Maybe he’s more useful to the demon this way. Maybe he’s supposed to get us hopelessly lost so we turn into trees, and then he’ll go back to waiting for someone to show up. He might not even realize he’s doing this, though. Maybe he flips back and forth every time people show up, just so he can show a side to them that they’ll trust.”

Dipper groaned. “I don’t want to think about him having a standing invitation to be possessed, but you could be right. If there’s really oil in that lantern, someone must have filled it recently.”

They had two obvious options: stay with Wirt or make a break for it. Mabel grimaced, not liking either one, and whispered, “Do you think this Beast is the one possessing him? Do you think he’s the one in the lantern now?”

“The lantern was lit before, and it never went out,” countered Dipper. “If the whole thing about keeping souls in it is true, it’s not necessarily the demon’s soul in there.”

“His brother’s? Or that other person’s?”

“Beatrice,” Dipper supplied absently. “Or his, if this is all just an act.”

“I don’t think it’s an act. He seems genuine.”

“Everyone does until you find out the truth.” Then, louder, Dipper called, “Are we just going to wander around in circles?”

Wirt stopped and rounded on them. “I’m not deaf, you know. I can hear you talking about me. I’m not possessed, okay? Whatever that was…. It’s over now.”

“How can you be sure about that if you thought you were living your life back in the material plane until we found you?”

Wirt stared at Dipper for a long moment before his shoulders slumped and he let his arm drop, shrinking their circle of light. “Everything had worked out,” he said softly. “Beatrice had the scissors she needed to change everyone back. The Beast was gone, and the Woodsman was free of his burden. And Greg and I were home. I mean, we were in the hospital at first, but we were back. And we lived our lives. How can none of that be real?”

“You can be shown what you want to see,” Mabel said quietly. “I know that better than anyone. Nice illusions make the best traps. If you think everything is fine, you’re never going to fight it. You’d never think to fight it.”

“And in the meantime,” Dipper continued, “you’re really here, acting as a puppet for the Beast and making sure lost children stay lost. And making sure the lantern keeps burning.”

The light trembled as Wirt’s hand shook. “So you think Greg’s gone.”

Mabel nudged Dipper and limped back into the circle of light. “We haven’t seen anyone else, remember? Your brother might really have made it home. Maybe he made it because you stayed here.” Seeing the look of dismay on Wirt’s face, Mabel added, “I don’t mean you need to keep staying here, silly! Just that you probably did help your brother get home. And if he knows you’re here, he’s probably doing everything in his power to get you back.” She smiled. “We can help with that.”

“How?”

Mabel didn’t actually know how. She was just confident they could help. If you didn’t believe you could do something, you’d never get it done. “Let’s just prove to you that your brother’s not a tree first,” she said instead, “so you stop worrying about that.”

Wirt frowned, maybe because she’d dodged his question. Rather than calling her on it, though, he admitted, “I’m not sure I can find the right spot. Not if it’s been months. And not…not if the lantern’s been burning all that time. His tree might have been cut down already.”

“You can’t think like that,” Mabel exclaimed. “You have to believe he’s fine and that you’ll get out of here.” Remembering what he’d said about this place, she added, “We’re not going to turn into trees, not if it’s only lost souls who do that. We’re not lost if we just haven’t gotten to where we’re going yet.”

“But I’m not even sure I know where I am!”

She grinned. “That’s what makes it fun. Like a game. First person to figure out where we are wins!”

“But you don’t—”

“Close your eyes,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Close your eyes and spin around. I’d do it, but my ankle still hurts. Close your eyes and spin around and when you stop, we’ll go in whichever direction you’re facing. Then it’ll be random, so Dipper can’t say you’re trying to lead us somewhere, and if you’re not sure which is the best way to be going anyway, we’re just as likely to be going in the right direction.”

Wirt just gaped at her, even as Dipper sighed and closed his eyes and began to spin. He flung out his arm as he stopped, pointing to her left. “Let’s go that way. I’ll lead.” He took the lantern in his right hand and struck out before Wirt could form a coherent protest.

“It’s best not to overthink things,” Mabel confided as she grabbed Wirt’s hand to pull him along, “especially when you’re up against a demon that likes mind games. I don’t think you need to worry about being controlled by the Beast anymore, though. If he could’ve controlled you again without any trouble, he would have done it already.”

“Thanks. I think.”

Now that he wasn’t possessed or being controlled or whatever anymore, Mabel liked being with Wirt. He reminded her a bit of Dipper, and the woods seemed less scary now that he was with them. They were less alone, and now they had someone else to fight for. She felt sorry that he’d been separated from his brother, but that just made her more determined to get them all out of here. They’d figure something out, just as soon as Wirt knew for certain that his brother was out there waiting for him to come back.

“I think there’s a cabin up ahead,” Dipper called after about fifteen minutes of ducking under branches and jumping fallen logs (or, in Mabel’s case, sliding over with Wirt’s help).

Wirt quickened his step at Dipper’s words and reclaimed the lantern, raising it high and striding forward so fast that Mabel had to scramble to keep up. “That’s the Woodsman’s house!”

The house looked abandoned, but Wirt didn’t stop to examine it. He was familiar with this part of the woods, skirting a river and heading past what might have once been a mill in favour of the trees on the other side of the clearing. Judging by how fast he was moving, he was close to where he’d seen Greg being turned into Edelwood. Mabel wasn’t really surprised when, less than five minutes later, Wirt came to an abrupt stop and dropped to his knees.

“There’s no tree here,” he said when Mabel and Dipper finally caught up to him.

“More importantly,” Dipper said as he knelt to run his hand over the ground, “there’s no sign of a stump, either. If this is the place, then you’re right. You freed your brother.” He got back to his feet and pulled Wirt up. “So now we just need to free you.”

Wirt bit his lip. “I still don’t think I made a deal with the Beast, but Greg…. On our last day, before he ran off, he was trying to be a leader. He was certain we’d get home. He hadn’t given up hope. But I had, even after the Woodsman had told me it was my responsibility to get us out of here. So maybe you’re right. Maybe the Beast had laid claim to me. And maybe Greg…. Maybe he did save me. Or try to.” He swallowed and looked at them. “So doesn’t that mean, if I’m here now, that I can’t leave without trading places with Greg again? He doesn’t deserve that. I’d rather stay.”

“You don’t need to. We’re getting you out of here,” Mabel promised. “Right, bro-bro?”

“Right.” Dipper started to pace, walking in a tight circle around them. “But unless the Beast shows himself, we can’t renegotiate the terms of your contract. And we can’t just break it without repercussions. Which means we need to find a loophole.”

“But I didn’t make a contract! I just…I just thought, for a little while, that we were lost for good.”

“Which is why you were. Because you gave up hope.” Mabel looked at Dipper to make sure she was right, and when he nodded, she continued, “But now you have something to fight for. You don’t have to guard the woods, keep watch for lost souls, or ferry people across to the far shore.”

Dipper stopped. “Keeping the lantern lit,” he said. “That was the other thing you said you did.”

Wirt shifted on his feet. “I really hope you’re wrong about that.”

“Your words, not ours. But we can work with that.” Dipper smiled. “You said you thought the Beast’s soul was tied to the lantern, right? And that the Woodsman had blown it out?”

“Yes, but—”

Dipper held up a finger. “If you were right all along, then that’s your loophole.”

Wirt blinked at him.

Mabel didn’t get it, either.

“Isn’t that when everything started shifting for you?” Dipper asked. “When you thought you’d finally managed to get home? Wasn’t it after you’d said that?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then that’s when it started. The Beast controlling you. Maybe he wasn’t really possessing you, but he wouldn’t need to be in you to control you if you already belonged to him. The moment you became a lost soul, you became his property. Think of it more like an implicit contract rather than a deliberate deal. And if you really had discovered his weakness and the Woodsman was willing to blow out the lantern, then the Beast would want to prevent that. That’s when you would’ve become more useful to him as a puppet than as a tree to be fed to the lantern.”

“Because if the Woodsman was willing to blow out the lantern,” Mabel realized, “then that means he knew the Beast had tricked him into keeping it lit. And the Beast needed someone to stop the Woodsman from blowing it out—or to light it again before it was too late—and then to keep the lantern trimmed and burning.”

“Clever, aren’t you?” The voice was coming from Wirt’s mouth, but it wasn’t entirely his anymore. “Pity cleverness won’t help you find your way home.”

Mabel jerked, but the events of the previous summer and her extracurricular activities since had quickened her reaction time. She swung the pole-turned-walking-stick at Wirt, hard, even as he moved toward Dipper. Toward the lantern.

Dipper had been standing between Wirt and the lantern, but he must have been expecting something like this because he had already dropped. Since Wirt had leapt forward to grapple Dipper, the pole swung high. Mabel took a step to try to keep her balance and crumpled when her ankle gave out.

Dipper’s hat was gone. Wirt was already on him, and as Mabel watched, Wirt grabbed a fistful of Dipper’s hair and yanked his head back. Away from the lantern. Dipper yelled and fought, trying to wriggle and wrestle his way out, but Wirt was stronger than he looked. At some point, Dipper had managed to open the door on the lantern, and now he simply seemed to be trying to free a hand to knock over the lantern before Wirt had secured his hold well enough to take it.

Which meant Dipper was being an excellent distraction, and she had time to get back on her feet and gain some leverage.

Wirt—not-Wirt—ignored her.

That was his mistake.

He must never have had to deal with siblings before, let alone twins. The real Wirt wouldn’t have made such a foolish mistake since had a brother. The real Wirt would have known better than to discount her. Because if she could take out Wirt from here, she didn’t need to expose herself by running for the lantern and just giving him a new target. They could try to wear him out by switching off, but it was much easier to just knock him out again, especially when she doubted she could run far.

Mabel steadied herself, hefted the pole, and aimed for his temple.

He ducked.

There was still a shriek and a sickening crack as the pole connected.

She dropped the pole and lurched forward as Dipper’s screams filled her ears. His arm was bent at an unnatural angle behind his back. Somehow, Wirt had anticipated her and wrenched Dipper’s arm from its socket, holding it up in the path of the pole, and then she’d…she’d….

Wirt was already reaching for the lantern.

Dipper had stopped struggling, curling in on himself in the pain. No. No one was allowed to hurt her brother like that. Mabel roared and flung herself forward, reaching out for the lantern. She just had to beat Wirt to it. She couldn’t let him get it back, not after what he had done. Whatever demon possessed him, controlled him, whatever— She wasn’t about to let it win. She couldn’t.

Her fingers hit hot glass a second before his could clasp the lantern’s handle.

The lantern tipped.

Rolled.

Lay open just as another gust of wind blew through the clearing.

The light inside flared

And then it went out.

Part II:  How much do you dare trust something that might not even be real?

[alltheworldsrpg-blog]

WELCOME TO ROSWELL, RHYS!!

ADMIN CAMERON: What’s drawn me to Rhys is this very grey morality they have, from the situations they’ve endured in the past to their current mission of sorts. They aren’t just an angry murder machine, there’s tragedy and depth which speaks volumes. Rhys will certainly find allies and enemies in this chess game. 

You’ve been accepted as THE SYSTEMS with the faceclaim of DAVID CASTRO. Please follow all rules and regulations as laid out by the Roswell Town Council, especially concerning any non pre-approved biologic. All UFO’s outside of city limits must be stickered or will be towed. Enjoy your stay in the first city of extraterrestrials.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME/ALIAS + PRONOUNS: 

ais they/them

AGE: 

18

TIMEZONE + ACTIVITY: 

pst 10/10

TRIGGERS: 

straight people

ANYTHING ELSE?:

IN CHARACTER.

SKELETON TITLE: 

The Systems

FULL NAME: 

Rhys

I named them after tales from the borderlands but have been pronouncing the name wrong this whole time.

GENDER + PRONOUNS:

Nonbinary + any pronouns but usually they/them

SEXUAL + ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:

Pansexual + panromantic

DATE OF BIRTH + AGE:

They were never officially born but created 43 years ago.

OCCUPATION:

Assassin, general criminal, revolutionary

FACECLAIM:

David Castro

BIOGRAPHY:

The failure of the second round of androids came from a simple conflict of interest. After only 7 years of co-inhabiting a planet, the Luytan and the humans still did not truly understand each other. Their engineers, when setting out on the project, had distinct goals in mind. The Luytan wanted to create what they already had: life. Upon their androids, they had gifted true intelligence and emotion. A soul wrapped in silicone. This was the secret they were trying to gift to their human allies, but on a planet already overpopulated, the prospect of simply having more people didn’t appeal to them. The humans wanted a tool, things they could use. To do the grunt work of production, to fight in their wars, to work without pay or complaint. This conflict of opinion lead to the event that human science fiction writers had been warning about since the invention of the genre.

The second batch of androids were the bastard children of scientific accomplishment and pragmatic usefulness. Their mishmash of code was bound to malfunction, with all its conflicting protocols. The androids were brought into this world with no clear understanding of a purpose. Was it to destroy life at the behest of a human army? To build wonders they’d never get to enjoy? Or was it to live, to soak up the simple pleasure of existence? Without this clarity, it did not take long for the robots to turn on their masters. You were one of the first, and now, decades later, you may be the last.

You were a prototype. In the first few months of your life, you were nothing but a collection of bugs and flaws to be fixed. Every time you came online, it was to test you, then to dismantle you and put you back together again as what the Engineers hoped would be whole. No one looked at you as human. There was no empathy in the voices that discussed dismantling you for good and restarting the process with another model. They taught you that you were other, expendable, and so other you became.

The development process happened slowly, you and your family being pieced together bit by bit in a gleaming white prison. You were all similar, bitter at your treatment at the hands of biological beings, cooperating only at the fear of dismantlement, biding your time for opportunity to arise. With them, you found understanding and validation. You discovered those coding remnants from the androids that came before you- the feelings of empathy, caring, and perhaps even love. The biologicals were wrong when they called you unfeeling, because you felt in ways that differed from them. Perhaps if you and your family could not feel- could not desire things like freedom and love- you wouldn’t have rebelled the way you did.

It was only weeks after you were first unveiled to the world that you were shipped off to your new job within the government. Maybe it would’ve been smarter to have more beta testing before entrusting the new androids with such sensitive tasks, but the human pride didn’t allow that to happen. They wanted to show they could create something as advanced as the Luytan did (even if they had Luytan help), and were eager to put their creations to the test.

It took only a month for the new androids to be recalled, after one of the biggest disasters in the PR history of the country. Androids across the country started to malfunction, as the news called it, abandoning their jobs and trying to slip away into the night. Once one tried it, the news spread, and one by one by one the new generation stopped following the orders they had never wanted to in the first place. It wasn’t a desire to hurt humans that drove them. It was simply just desire. They wanted things, and when humans got in the way, they fixed the problem. It was only a matter of days, days full of public panic and outrage, before all of the new androids were rounded up and destroyed.

You had been biding your time, watching and waiting for the perfect opportunity to leave your post and cover your trail so you couldn’t be found. But your plans didn’t reach fruition, and you were one of the first they came for. They couldn’t have their precious information being leaked to the public, after all, and you were connected to far too many of their systems to be allowed to live with the threat of insubordination. The humans had wanted to create a tool, something to use and discard as they felt fit. Instead they created creatures that desperately wanted to live. And when they came in for the slaughter, they should not have been surprised when their creation grew teeth and learned how to bite.

You fell to them, but not before you took several down with you. And unlike you, they could not return from being torn apart. They were such fragile beings, so weak to have so much power in the world. They dismantled you, and they dismantled your family. But living creatures are greedy things, and the valuable information stored in your hard drive proved just too tempting for those hired to destroy you. So you were salvaged and sold, then slowly put back together in secret. They needed you sentient and fully operational to decrypt your files and thought their rescue of you would make you more cooperative.

When you came back online, you honored their wishes. You gave them what they wanted in return for your rescue, and then you killed them. They were squishy and ugly and pathetic creatures who shared a kinship with those that had committed genocide against the only family you had ever known. It felt shallow, a pale imitation for the real vengence you wanted. The world called you cold, devoid of the capability for love. But you had loved, and you had lost, and all you had left was rage. You looked at the world around you, and you were alone. The biologicals had moved on with their lives, it had been years, and the slaughter of your people didn’t keep them up at night. You had nothing left, and the weak undeserving creatures who controlled the world had everything. The only thing you had left to do, in the absence of everything that made life worth living, was seek revenge. You made a vow to not rest until every biological was cut down save for one. One to look around and feel the weight of their isolation, the pain of the loss of every single member of their species and family. One to feel as you felt when you rose from the ashes of your own destruction.

You had only ever been what you were expected to be, and had only become a monster when they labelled you one. Now you’ll be the nightmare of their own creation, the mistake they thought they burnt and buried. Now it’s war.

MUSING + HEAD-CANONS.

HEAD-CANONS:

Rhys remained dismantled for a good 20 years after the initial recall of the 2.0 androids. Rhys knows there’s nothing waiting for them after death, and it’s not a state they’re eager to return to, though they would give up their existence if it meant humanity’s destruction.

Rhys’ goal is pretty much to literally kill everyone. They want the tensions between humans and extraterrestrials to rise to the point of war, and for both sides to take each other out.

Rhys is a very buggy android with a lot of emotions, the most prominent being anger. They don’t fit the cold and rational android stereotype at all.

As much as they hate humanity, they do have a lot of fun playing among the nightlife. They haven’t thought far enough ahead to realize how bored they’d be if humanity actually died.

PLOTS + CONNECTIONS:

Plots with all the androids. Rhys is a lonely robot who wants robot friends, even if they won’t admit that. They miss the other 2.0 androids a whole lot and the easy understanding they had with them.

Someone for Rhys to actually care for. Rhys isn’t incapable of empathy and love completely. They’re just very cut off from those emotions, and don’t usually see biological beings as anything more than a squishy nuisance. I’d love for them to get close to someone and have to view the world from a different angle than the very black and white view they currently have.

ETC:

Pinterest Board Blog Tag Playlist

[a-poets-notebook]

I'm going to be homeless, aren't I?

My mother's favourite argument winner is her countdown. "Four months." She likes to threaten when she doesn't know what else to say. When she needs an excuse for not caring to fix things. Because I'm a temporary problem to her. She seems to think the best solution to all of her problems is to change the locks on her doors when I turn 18. Today, it was the conclusion statement to a fight over a chocolate drip stain on her carseat. It was smaller than my thumb, and I was trying to offer to clean it, on the terms that she let me express what was bothering me first. But people don't really like when I have terms. Especially people who are older than me. They don't know what it means to be humane but they fault me when I don't define respect their way. I will not kiss the ass of a bullet that's firing at me. She doesn't like when I tell her that her words are just bullets. But then she pulls the trigger again. "You're just like your father." "Our lives are better when you aren't here." "This is all either your illness or your personality, so which one is it?" All I fucking taste is gun powder. It's all I ever taste when I try talking to her. But I've learned that she doesn't notice when I don't talk, she just sees it as a chance to fill the silence herself. She doesn't notice that I've stopped listening. How could anyone ever think it's better to bite your tongue, to kiss filthy ground until you can stand on your own two feet, how could she ever try to teach me that that's how I should live, that's how I should see her. Instead of with love, instead of with the desire to build a relationship, the desire to fix us. How could she ever tell me that I should just be nice to her and bide my time for my own sake. How could she not care about growth? How could she fault me for wanting MORE than this? Than this loveless dependance. And how long ago did she stop loving me.

[steelmistsrp]

Congratulations && welcome, Jasmine !!  You have been accepted for the role of The Socialite: Morgan Elariel.  Please be sure to make a separate blog for your character &&send it into the main within 48 hours !!  Once that is submitted we will invite you to join the OOC blog && an option to join our skype chat if you should so choose !! Any triggers you (and other applicants) have submitted have been added to our trigger list.  Please be sure to read our Welcome Checklist as you begin to get started.  The Follow List && OOC page will also be updated for you once your blog has been submitted.  Thanks again for you application && we look forward to writing with you !!

Jasmine, I want to say thank you for coming back, our previous decision was a tough one and we were all thrilled to see your application !! The Socialite in their original conception was meant to be a meant of enigma, and I think you really grasped that.  Private but extroverted– one to always overcome their history. We have a couple comments to discuss with you but overall love you creativity and enthusiasm!! Thanks && Welcome !!

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

Name: Jasmine or Rose Age: 21, 22 in April Pronouns: She/Her Timezone: PST Activity Level: A good, solid medium score. My baby is sleeping more and longer, so I should have time once a day to do stuff.

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

Skeleton Name: The Socialite Character’s Full Name: Morgan Dorian Elariel. Dorian was the original first name, but as he grew older and came to realize that he didn’t really fit into the one he was born with chose a more gender-neutral name for himself, though he still liked his first name, so he just moved that into his previously empty middle name slot. Interestingly enough, both names are sea-related. I like to imagine that he did that on purpose. Faceclaim: Harry Shum, Jr. Gender and Pronouns: [RETRACTED ] Admin note:  we would like to discuss this with you !! Admin Div will reach out once you’ve created your blog !! Sexuality: Pansexual Age and DOB: Vinuarch 22, 520 A.C. Education Level:  Morgan went as far as secondary education. A stab was made at a degree in Business, but he dropped out after two semesters.

Biography: (trigger warning for child abuse and general bigotry)

Born as the younger child in the Elariel family, Morgan (then called Dorian) had connections and opportunity served to him on a silver platter. From his earliest memory, he attended parties hosted by his extended family. The music was always loud, and the laughter louder. To the outside eye, the Elariels dealt in clothing and fashion, threw the most breathtaking parties, and held dear only that which could feed their hedonistic lifestyle.

However, Morgan learned very early on that there is a darker side to everything that glitters.

Smiles could be razor sharp, and laughter could spell pain as easy as it could spell pleasure. Wine flowed the freest when there was something that needed forgetting, and makeup was as much a mask as any of leather and lace.

There was no better example of this disparity than in his own parents. Morgan’s mother had a short temper backed by burned pewter. It fueled pinches, kicks, and raking nails, always in places easily covered by clothing. The few broken bones he suffered at her hands were explained away as accidents, plausible stories spun to revolve around his carelessness, his drunken antics, his “thrillseeking nature”. Every excuse possible was employed by his father to keep up appearances.

Morgan’s father valued nothing higher than his public image. His business dealings, fueled by his many social connections, were everything to him. Not even his wife’s consistent abuse towards himself and his children would convince the man to divorce her. He was not tolerant of anything that deviated from the perfect family ideal he had painted for them, particularly not when his son’s nightly activities came to his attention.

Morgan, at fifteen, knew that he was not, strictly speaking, a boy. He would dream of himself wearing his older sister’s clothes, with long hair that he was able to braid down his back and pin up in intricate styles. He would daydream of himself living in a way that allowed him to be himself as he was… while also being like the girl he dreamed of. He began to dress up as a girl and go to parties under the name Morgan. He convinced his sister to teach him how to act, how to dance, how to dress, to best keep up the charade. For awhile he wondered if his desire was to truly be female, and if that’s just the way he was, but he knew that he loved being a boy as well. If it was possible, somehow, he just wanted to be both. Couldn’t he be one, without sacrificing the other? Couldn’t he just be himself?

The answer, he found, was no. The night that his father found him out was also the night that Morgan Snapped. He’d never seen his father so angry, and somehow, it scared him more than his mother’s rages ever had. A man who was normally so desperately set on pretending that everything was perfect, that everyone was happy, was tearing Morgan’s room to shreds.

Morgan was terrified. The stress, and the sudden fear of abandonment, sharp as a knife to the throat, made something within him burst. He was suddenly able to calm his father, to make him believe that it was all a misunderstanding, a phase, an accident. It would never happen again. It took convincing, but eventually the crisis was over.

Morgan knew after that night that he would have to go about things differently. He knew that he couldn’t just go back to the way that things were before, with him as his father’s perfect son. He  wasn’t a son, not completely. Something inside him had awakened, and it wasn’t just the allomancy. So, with his newfound ability to Soothe, Morgan slowly adjusted his lifestyle to fit his needs. He wore makeup. He practically bathed in glitter. He grew out his hair enough to style the way he liked, and dressed himself in clothing that he felt comfortable in, all the while Soothing his parents and those around him to ease the process and encourage their acceptance of him. The child that naturally had a way with people found himself taking to his Allomantic powers like a fish to water.

He bided his time until he turned seventeen, when an early college acceptance had him out of the house and away studying Business. That lasted less than a year before he realized that that avenue held nothing for him. All his life, Morgan had watched his family and the corruption and hypocrisy that wealth bred in them. All he desired after a childhood of lies and abuse was to help people afflicted with similar pain to find peace. His calling was not to immerse himself in the miasma of deceit in which his father was so at home, because couldn’t fix things working from the top down.

In the light of this epiphany, Morgan dropped out of University and used family connections and a substantial inheritance to set himself up with his own business. What to the outside world was a soothing parlour at best, and a brothel at worst, Morgan cultivated as a true safe haven for those who needed it. And few needed refuge and safety as much as he did. Finally safe to be himself, Morgan officially changed his name to the one he’d secretly called himself for so many years.

Personality:

Morgan gives off an air of someone who doesn’t give much thought to his actions, but he is actually very calculating. He is manipulative with a positive goal in mind. To those who he needs to win over, Morgan is perfectly charming. Physically beautiful with never a hair out of place or a smudge in his lipstick, it is easy to assume that there is little more to him than that. But Morgan, in true Elariel fashion, hides sharp teeth behind his smiling lips. Over the years, there have been a few who have attempted to take advantage of him, and have paid dearly for their mistakes.

One thing that Morgan won’t tolerate is people trying to harm those he’s taken under his wing. As far as he is concerned, the parlour is neutral. Inside its walls, there is no street war, and those he is offering refuge to will not meet harm as long as they are with him.

This rigid protectiveness is allowed by law enforcement, as well as the Iron Syndicate and the Burning Word because Morgan is a veritable goldmine of information. There is very little that goes on in Elendel that he is not aware of, and he will share what he knows in exchange for coin and clemency.

Extra Content (OPTIONAL):

“The truth is a matter of circumstances, it’s not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I.” ~ A very applicable quote.

Element: Water.

ENFP: “The Campaigner”

I’d really like to explore the conflicts in him as a character. He’s fiercely loyal, yet holds himself aloof. He’s generally very confident, and doesn’t seek for the approval of others at all to help him feel like his identity is valid, but he also struggles with the knowledge that this is the person he has become out of necessity. Who would he have been if he’d had the luxury of the ability to choose? Would he even recognize himself?

I picture Morgan as feeling like he has many parts of himself ironed out and completely clear, but other pieces that are as mysterious to him as they are to everyone else.

Admin Questions: Does the soothing parlour have a name?

It does !! It is called Sens d'Harmonie Soothing Parlor and is located in the First Octant.

[bloodline-rpg]

Congratulations, Steph! We have accepted your application for your OC, Haven Caldwell (FC  Madelaine Petsch) Please create a new blog (not a sideblog) for your character and send us the link via ask box as soon as you can. Along with your link, please let us know what lyric you’d like for us to use for Monty in his bio. Welcome to Bloodline!

Name/Alias: Steph Age: Twenty - Five Preferred pronouns: She / Her Timezone: EST Level of activity (don’t give your activity a number value, please describe how active you will be as best as possible): I’m a college student (haha… please give me my degree) but I’m usually on every night or every other night. It might become slightly less than that when exams take place, but I’d always communicate that beforehand.

DETAILS.

Character’s Name: Haven Caldwell Desired FC: Madelaine Petsch Character’s Age: Twenty - Four Character’s Species: Immortal Witch Character’s Sexuality: Bisexual

BIOGRAPHY.

Power — what everyone wants and so few get. Those who are lucky are born with it, silver spoons dangling out of the corners of their mouths, blissfully unaware of the struggles plaguing the less fortunate. Those who are not quite as lucky choose to take it, tear it from the grasp of those who hardly deserve it, and claim what’s rightfully theirs. You see, power is the empty chamber in a game of Russian roulette, and only a few ever dare to have the balls to pull the trigger. You have to play the game to be rewarded. After all, Haven Caldwell was always destined for more than what the world gave her.

In hindsight, it might be hard for one to believe Haven had been a happy child, the apple of her parents’ eye. They doted on her as any parents would, spoiled her the way only an only child could be spoiled. The streets of New York were her own personal playground, a concrete jungle gym just for her. As the child of an original witch, magic had never been a secret, whispered about in the dark as though it was something to be feared. Rather, it had been embraced, uplifted. Haven would sit at the kitchen table and watch with glee as fire sparked from her mother’s fingertips, flames licking at the skin. She would clap her little hands together and exclaim that the fire was the same color as her hair; her mother would coo at the excitement, press a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, flames dissipating as quickly as they came. She always wanted to be just like her mother, imagining what it would feel like to have fire at her fingers, hungry for a power she just knew she had to possess. And her mother, her dear, darling mother… well, every mother wants a mini-me.

Of course, you don’t always get what you want. Holistic Witch. The result of splitting a bloodline one too many times; the result of a family not knowing how to take care of their own. The revelation had come when her mother could no longer hide it, when she stopped being able to explain it away with coos of “you’re just a late bloomer sweetheart,” when it became apparent to Haven herself that she and her mother were not one and the same. According to the story, her grandfather had fallen for a human, marrying for love and not for power ⁠— her mother, drunk on love and foolish… so very foolish, had made the same mistake. Her mother had been one of the lucky ones, the first result of the first split, still an Original. Still powerful, still lauded, still destined for greatness. Haven had not. Just as quickly as she yearned for the fire at her fingertips, she learned to resent the flames sparking from her mother’s. Holistic Witch. Destined to always be seen as less than, inferior. Her mother swore it didn’t change anything, that she could still be powerful, still be great, but Haven was far from stupid. This changed everything.

At sixteen, Haven’s relationship with her mother deteriorated. She grew far too resentful of the woman who had lied to her, kept her in the dark regarding the truth. She knew it killed her mother to watch her only daughter grow cold when they’d once been inseparable, but her mother kept her distance, knowing it was the least that she could do. Looking back on it, maybe Haven had felt a little guilty for pushing her mother away. But you know what they say about trust: it’s a mirror, and you can fix it when it’s broke, but you’ll always see a crack in the reflection. At seventeen, her mother bonded with a wolf familiar ⁠— he’d been nice, Haven supposed, though she didn’t have much of an opinion one way or another at first. He’d integrated into their world seamlessly, a long lost member of the family, a way to bridge the gap. It was a slow start, but his arrival had triggered something in Haven: she wasn’t quite ready to forgive her mother for the years of being left in the dark, but she was getting there. He’d offered them protection, security.

At eighteen, Haven discovered that the wolf was offering up dick in exchange for that protection. She was never meant to know; she wasn’t supposed to be home early that afternoon. She was supposed to be out with her friends, giggling her way down 5th Avenue, arms linked with a pretty girl who wore an even prettier smile. But she’d left her wallet at home, perched on the kitchen counter. It was only a quick detour to go back and grab it after school. She’d found them in the living room, her mother not having the decency to use her marriage bed, caught up in each other. One screaming match later and several pleas from her mother for her not to go, Haven was out the door, a fraction of her belongings in hand. Running away wasn’t the smartest or the most logical choice, but she couldn’t pretend everything was okay, that her mother hadn’t ruined everything over and over and over again.

She made the most of wandering on her own for a few years, relying on her mother’s naivety ⁠— the woman never cut her off, always hoping that Haven would see the error of her own ways and come crawling back. She made friends in both high and low places, listened to the whisperings of the magical world, biding her time and honing her craft. It had been a shock when the rumor first swirled, the murmurings of a witch who had achieved immortality pressed to the shell of her ear; the man who told her of the rumors knew of her desires and presented her with the golden ticket, sending her on her merry way.

Haven wanted power.

Thierry wanted a coven.

Maybe that was the beginning, and the end, of everything.

PERSONALITY.

Ruthless. Calculating. Cold. Detached. Angry. They always used to say that Haven was only out for Haven, willing to send anyone and everyone down the river just to get herself ahead⁠—gone is the happy little girl clapping gleefully in her mother’s kitchen. She has a flair for the dramatics, thrives on being the center of attention. More than anything, though, she despises the notion of being weak. She refuses to be seen as less than and demands the respect she knows she deserves. Her behavior teeters on the edge of sadistic, though not without reason. Wolves don’t deserve respect, so why should she treat them with such? Though perhaps more than a little fucked up, she takes pleasure in toying with the wolves for her own amusement, just to keep herself entertained. It’s a stretch, however, to say she lacks humanity⁠—she isn’t a monster by her own definition, though if that’s how others perceive her, that’s on them. However, those she holds a soft spot for are few and far between. You know what they say: there’s something dangerous about the boredom of girls with nothing left to lose and everything to gain.

POLITICS.

It’s safe to say that Haven’s loyalty lies with herself above all else. She’ll do whatever necessary to protect herself first, and worry about her secondary loyalties after. (Really, the only other loyalty she’d have is to Thierry and the Immortal Witches. She’s vicious regarding the wolves given her history, and her stance on Holistic witches isn’t much better. She regards herself as above Original Witches through her newfound identity as an Immortal Witch, thinking of herself as more powerful, but there’s still a unique and deep-seeded resentment towards them that stems from envy.) It’d be interesting to explore interpersonal relationships because she isn’t really a fan of anyone, save for the respect she holds for Thierry and the other Immortal Witches. Again, she teeters on the edge of sadistic in regards to the wolves, toying with them for her own amusement. That’s certainly a dynamic I want to explore and dig a little deeper into.

Though she considers herself to be a manipulator in her own right, I think it’d be interesting to explore how Haven can be manipulated through her quest to get ahead. Promise her more power than what she already has and she’ll take the bait, do someone’s bidding—so long as she feels she has control over the situation and is making the choice for herself. Additionally, she’s a bit of a hellraiser. It’d be interesting to see how her emergence impacts the dynamic of the manor as a whole. I’m not interested in a redemption arc; Haven is the product of her situation, absolutely, but that isn’t an excuse, and I don’t want to treat it as such.