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hermitcraftheadcanons · 3 years

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Scattered AU Masterpost Part 1

This is a collection of all material associated with the Scattered AU (read about the premise here)!

Join the new Discord server here

AU material under the cut (because this is growing super fast already)

Due to post length limit (which is apparently a thing), find Part 2 of this AU here.

A few ideas to get us started:

- Tango and Zedaph spawned relatively close to each other, but they haven't found each other yet and each think they are alone. They keep just barely missing each other in their exploration of the area. Maybe, with the powers of Zed's perfect sense of direction and Tango's laser-sharp perception skills, they'll finally stop walking circles around each other...maybe.

- Xisuma spawned alone, deep underground in a massive, confusing cave system. He desperately wants to figure out what's going on and how to fix it, but a bad run-in with the Warden damaged his helmet, leaving him unable to use admin commands.

- Mumbo spawned the farthest out of anyone, right next to a woodland mansion. He quickly realized that hoping to stumble across another person this far out is a lost cause, so he's trying to create some form of communication using a combination of redstone and Evoker magic. The Evoker isn't very helpful, and it isn't going well.

- Joe and Vintagebeef were the only ones to successfully spawn at spawn. They aren't really sure what's going on, but they've decided to build a small village as a base of operations while they figure it out (and to signal signs of life to anyone who might successfully find their way back)

- Cleo spawned in a village, and is currently hiding out in a house while trying to convince the villagers to trust her. Let's just say they aren't thrilled to have a zombie in their midst (and the iron golem is even less pleased)

- Impulse had the misfortune to spawn in a guardian temple. Between the guardians and the constant threat of drowning, he's been in a death loop since the world started.

- False and Stress spawned right next to each other. They figured out pretty early that something was wrong with regen, and using their combined strengths, they made it to the Nether to get ingredients for healing potions. They are now on a mission to find the others and distribute the potions to whoever needs them.

- Ren actually managed to travel a good distance back to the world center, before getting pretty badly injured. With no regen, and knowing he'll have to start the journey all over if he dies and respawns, he's decided to pull together a small base and take shelter while he waits to be found.

- Scar spawned on an outer End island, with no idea how to get back to the Overworld. He keeps finding strange glitches in his surroundings, and he swears he can hear soft Vex laughter whenever he turns his back...

- Keralis spawned in the Nether, and he is absolutely terrified.

That's all I have for ideas so far. The location of the others (and what happens next) is up to you!

Contributions so far:

- Bdubs spawns in the void, but he just doesn’t die. Maybe it’s spawn protection, maybe it’s the glitches, but he just keeps falling and falling and falling further from the bedrock, unable to do anything to help himself as he descends further into the void

- @fluffy-papaya

- After wandering around aimlessly for days or maybe weeks, Tango finds an automatic farm for... well... he's not sure, exactly. But he does know who built it- it's got Zedaph's mark all over it. So he stays there, fixing broken Redstone, trying to figure out what it does. And when Zedaph returns to collect melons (so that's what this thing is for), he finds Tango waiting for him.

- @rayveewrites

- Etho spawns in a underwater cave, but there is air in it and for some reason a shipwreck so he can get some wood and tools. But he has to get out to contact anyone because the reception in caves don't happen to be the best, little does he know just outside the cave is the monument where Impulse is, they're so close yet so far from one another

- anonymous

- Maybe Etho ended up spawning at the very top of a mountain, he could see far from up there and has a general idea of where he is, but no idea how to get down as all around him is powderd snow hiding ravines, and cliffs. . . And a few goats that Etho has narowly avoided getting headbutted by. (Etho went to the mountain after escaping the cave)

- @ciaravixen

- Welsknight spawned in the Nether

- (paraphrased) Ren fell down a ravine in the mountains on his journey to the world center, and decided to make a small cabin base rather than try to carry on injured. Doc spawned in those same mountains, and may find him eventually.

- anonymous

- Grian spawns on the tallest peak of the highest mountain. Surrounded by thick fog and almost ever-falling snow, with crevasses and cliffs that drops thousands of blocks to the ground around every corner. No trees, no life, and barely enough air to breath. It's so cold. A thin red sweater isn't nearly enough to keep him warm.... he's likely caught in a death loop for quite awhile as he refreeze over, and over, and over again. And when he does manage to climb down, an ice pillager lies in wait...

- @therainofsweetmelody

- Scar’s End spawn is on a single island- he can see other islands around him, but they’re just out of jump reach- he tried, and fell and died, and respawned back onto his little island with the whispering voices around him a tad louder, and the islands just a bit farther away. He stops trying to jump to them eventually, out of fear they’ll vanish and he won’t have anything to focus on besides the whisper of ice cold hands and wings on his skin

- anonymous

- Oh! Maybe since Xisuma’s admin helmet is broken and he’s unable to run any world commands, that means mob hermits like Cleo, Doc, and Jevin aren’t quite the same. Maybe Cleo locked herself in that house for the villagers protection as much as her own. Maybe Doc eventually joins a lone creeper pack. Who knows! -💧

- anonymous

- Zed and Tango spawned in the same jungle biome, explaining the melon farm and why they could be literally three blocks from each other and still not be aware of each other’s existence. -🟣

- The first thing Scar does once he first spawns in (besides from almost having a panic attack) is take a jump into the void. This of course does nothing. He checks out the rest of the end islands around him, and finds a rather large end city just in render distance. There should be treasure or something that could help him survive, right? -🟣

- Keralis was lucky enough to spawn in a warped forest biome and next to a basalt delta, so he’s got wood and stone. It takes a bit, but he gets full gold armor and finds his way to a nether fortress. He figures with the broken regen that the other hermits will try to go for potions. Maybe he finds Stress and False, maybe not. -🟣

- I apologize if I'm sending too many asks, please feel free to say if so! I'm just already so invested in this idea, and absolutely love where it's all going! Shattered au brainrot go brrrrr - anyways; Cub spawns in a valley within the messa. To one side an abandoned village covers the cliff, and to the other, mines drill deep into the rock. A stream luckily runs through the valley, though it's slowly drying up. He can hear strange sounds in the mines, and feels something in the village watching

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- what if the hermits caught in death loops start gaining scars and marks from all their deaths? like impulse had permanent scars from the guardians and grian’s hands are permanently blue from freezing to death all the time

- anonymous

- X finds some axoloyls in a lush cave and falls in love. He gets some wood from said cave and gets some buckets so he can keep them -🟣

- Cleo gets stuck in a death loop with the iron golem, who is blind to her not attacking the villagers. One of the smarter villagers realizes she’s not fighting back, and calls the golem off. -🟣

- (paraphrased) After the iron golem is called off, Stress and False find Cleo badly hurt in the village house. They make sure she's comfortable and safe before going to the Nether to get potions, where they find a battered Keralis and carry him back. They turn the house into a little hospital while they brew potions and take care of Cleo and Keralis until they're strong enough to move on.

- anonymous

- Stress and False have set up a Nether Portal near a Nether Fortress, for easy escape to the relative safety of the Overworld. Keralis has never been more relieved in his life than when he found that portal.

- @/rayveewrites

- Doc spawned a thousand blocks away from ren, not knowing hos friend was there he happened to go in that direction. He managed to get materials, tools and food for himself before he sees rens little hut

- anonymous

- Jevin was one of the luckier hermits, when it came to where he spawned. He woke up in the shallow green waters of a floral cave, illuminated by glowing rocks and berries. He wasn't... quite alone. Although no other hermits could be seen, he quickly found a small family of axolotl living in the closed-off cave. They became his companions as he tried to assess his situation, and served as comfort when he realised his communicator was almost useless. Being slime, the environment was very welcoming

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- Xb spawns in the middle of a desert, with not even a village in sight. While he's used to being in distant lands with limited resources, he's very much not used to it on the Hermitcraft server with limited contact to the others. As the nights go by and the sands grow more hostile thanks to never-burning husks, he grows more and more lonely.

-@/basaltdragon

- At first, Doc is elated when he spawns on a mountain surrounded by goats. That is, until he discovers that none of his fellow hermits are there with him. After being headbutted down the mountain into the snowy tundra below and left on precariously low health, he hunkers down in a nearby igloo. But it's not exactly easy in a food-scarce biome when his only contacts are two villagers and the horde of strays that gather outside each night...

-@crows-in-space

- in one sense of the word, scar is safe. There's enough chorus fruit on the island to keep him alive, and despite his concerns the enderman don't even bat an eye at him. Theoretically, he could survive for longer than many of the others. But the whispers keep nagging at him, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. Sure, he could survive, but how long could he stay on this deathly quiet piece of land before someone would find him? He can see the faint outline of an End City on one of the fading islands, and every passing moment it haunts him. If he could just give in for a moment, let the powers of the vex harness his body for just a few seconds, maybe he could make it over and gather some gear- maybe even an elytra- and then he'd be set. But fear and logic talk him out of it. He's made deals with the vex before, and that quick trip across the islands could put him in a much more dangerous position than only being stranded...

- @/crows-in-space

- What if after scar gives up, he finds his vex mask lying on the floor with a tag saying ‘do it, it’ll help you get across’ (shade's note: Scar does it)

- anonymous

- For the Scattered AU: Scar gets an elytra, and after much internal struggling he decides to take a chance and leap into the darkness for hope of finding another island. During his terrifying glide he hears a distant scream from the void that is so familiar, but he can't quite place it, and he's in no hurry to risk flying any lower to check it out. - M

- @petrichormeraki

- Iskall and doc's robotic eye glitch out so they don't have any depth vision, so no mater where they spawn, they Are bound to die a few times from missinterprating how far away an Arrow or trident is, and how fast something is coming at them.

- @/ciaravixen

- I initially thought of this for Ren, but since there was already an idea for him, it could probably work for Iskall instead; He spawns in the middle of a scorching desert. Dunes of sand for as far as the eye can see, with barely a cactus or dead Bush in between. No water, no life - only the ever-present heat of the sweltering sun, and the large skeletons everywhere. He manages to find an abandoned temple after days of dragging himself through the sand, and spies a desert village on the horizon

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- Scattered AU! The way the "not killing Bdubs in his own spawn in the void" glitches work is similar to the forgiving void mod works where when you hit the bottom of the void you are teleported to the top instead of taking damage, but since Bdubs can't see anything in the void he doesn't know this (beyond a constant falling) feeling until he manages to "fall forward" enough to find some end islands, he finds scar this way but is so excited to see him he died from fall damage right in front of him

- @theclockworkowl

- (Scattered AU) Piggybacking off the death loop scars ask, when/if Bdubs is rescued from the void, he's in ROUGH shape. His external limbs are blackened and freezing with frostbite from the void (voidbite?), and his bones are permanently weakened from his form being subjected to the cold abyss for so long. Bdubs needs to relearn gravity after falling for so long, and doesn't use elytra anymore. The solid ground under his feet is something he'll never sacrifice for convenience ever again. - M

- @/petrichomeraki

- Wels spawned in a giant crimson forest in the nether. Towering mushroom trees, thick red vines, with piglins and hoglins he constantly has to run away from. But he finds something.... interesting as he's exploring. A house has been built into a wall, a mixture of nether and overworld blocks. Stepping inside, someone clearly lives there - someone who's not a piglin. Imagine his surprise (and relief) when a certain familair knight walks through the door. "Helsknight?"

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- xB wakes up in a dripstone cavern. It's damp and cold and the spikes are very tall, forming a sort of natural cage around him. At the very least, zombies and mobs can't get through, but the longer he stays there, the weirder the sounds get. There... wasn't a new mob for the dripstone caves, right? Right? (i'm trying VERY hard not to do new hermit OR crossover headcanons for scattered au. i swear) ~@betweenlands

- Scattered AU! Everyone Etho dies He spawns in a new place, first it was the underwater cave, then it was the top of a mountain, but it wasn't until he spawned inside an ocean monument and saw impulse trying to escape just as he was dying he realise the importance of the pattern, He was cycling though each of the other hermits spawn locations, which made all the wierd almost hermit made wierdnes make sense, the underwater one was his but the mountain was Grian's spawn spot,

- @/theclockworkowl

- Can the hermits see death messages? (They can) I'm imagining the potential angst of that, where normal world messages (achievements, commands, deaths) go through just fine but the others can't chat. The helplessness of watching their friends' names endlessly filling the chat and having no idea where they are, having no clue how to help, not even being able to offer comfort.

- @/basaltdragon

- Someone had mentioned xisuma also ending up in a floral cavern with axolotl, right? What if this was the same cave Jevin found himself stuck in? After days and days of clawing at stone, xisuma finally breaks into a cavern filled with faint light. After discovering the friendly acolotls, he notices a strange blue mass floating in the water.... and is almost startled to death when he sees the skull faintly showing through the slime, and the familiar wobbly voice coming from it. "Xisuma?"

- Doc and Grian (and later on, ren) spawned on the same mountain. Grian, of course, at the very top: stuck in the endless snowpeak, towering high above the clouds. Doc, meanwhile, ended up at the base, surrounded by snow and goats and giant taiga trees as far as the eye could see. Once Ren got stuck in the ravine, he often heard a familiar scream before a sickening splat every now and again, as the ravine lies almost completely below the highest peak. He's afraid to check his communicator.

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- grian’s practically given up since there’s not much for him to do. there’s no food and his hands are too frozen to mine. a little fox stays by his side at least. he’s about to freeze again and his health is low and he hears crumching footsteps approaching. he assumes its the iceologer coming for him but instead he hears “grian?” and he can make out blurry figures before he passes out and wakes up wrapped up in a blanket infromt of a fire. (whoevers managed to find and rescue him is up to you :D) (Shade's notes: the person who found him was Doc, and he took him back to Ren's cabin to warm up)

- anonymous

- Scar isn't the only one changed by the time he reaches spawn. Impulse drags himself up onto land finally, breathing heavily, and there's something different about him. Sharper teeth. The shadow he casts more inconsistent. Always faintly smells like saltwater. And his eyes glow faintly, a pale washed-out non-color like light at the bottom of the ocean. Something suggesting nonhuman geometry. Something sleeping that had to reawaken to escape. ~@betweenlands

- Eventually, Etho spawns in a jungle. By a complete stroke of luck, he sees the smoke of a campfire. Tango and Zedaph are happy to see someone- anyone- else. Especially when it turns out Etho somehow managed to get the coordinates of a certain Ocean Temple. Sure, it's far, but they can make it. After all, there's an 'I' in team ZIT, and they aren't leaving him behind.

- @/rayveewrites

- (summary of a couple different writing peices) After escaping the Guardian Temple, Impulse set out to find any other Hermit he could. He has gained some unnerving qualities and abilities that he doesn't really understand, but he's trying not to think about that right now. After defeating several mobs he should not have been able to defeat with his level of progress, he now possesses one Totem of Undying. He met up with Zedaph, Tango, and Etho on their way to find him. They are now hosting him at their campsite and are glad he is safe, but Etho is unnerved and suspicious of his more unsettling attributes.

- I had sent this idea right after the inbox closed, rip. But anyways - what if mumbo ended up befriending the evokers and pilligers in the woodland mansion? Of course, it wouldnt be like that at first- the constant death to the axes and swords and magic, the growls and yelling and cursed glares. But he always came back to work on the redstone and evoker magic in a desperate attempt to contact the others. Eventually, the evoker stops sending their vex, and the pilligers stop swinging their weapons

- @/therainofsweetmelody

- (Scattered AU) After Scar gives in to the Vex. Bdubs is barely conscious to begin with; dying to the void so many times really took it out of him in every way possible. But when he is awake, what he sees makes him scared. Scar with faded, cold eyes. Scar with transparent wings, gone in a blink. Scar being able to do things he shouldn't. Scar says it's to get them out of there, but every day he gets a little paler, a little colder, and Bdubs grows more worried. - M

- @/petrichomeraki

- Perhaps xb and Iskall are on opposite ends of the same desert? On one side, high sand dunes covering miles, with a single desert temple and isolated desert village hidden amongst the cliffs and hills. On the other, the deep flatt valley next to a Mesa mountain, flat nothingness stretching far past the horizon. It would still take quite a long time for them to find each other, but at least there's a change they could meet... and, perhaps, over that mountain, cub could be somewhere in the mesa

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- Iskall and Xb eventually find each other in the desert. Sunburned, dehydrated, and sand-blasted, they hug when they first meet despite not knowing each other well. And they try their best not to die, because what are the chances they'll ever find each other again? Two heads are better than one for finding their way to the rest of the hermits.

-@/basaltdragon

- Its probably a week or so of falling before bdubs managed to move enough to finally see the end islands just barely rendering in the distance. As someone had mentioned, perhaps he became so hopeful that he missed his mark, hitting the ground with a sickening splat just blocks beside scar. It took bdubs almost another week to get forward enough to see the islands again. This time, he landed right on scar... sending the vex back to his spawn several islands away, and leaving bdubs alone for days

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- While Bdubs and Scar are more than happy to have found each other again, their moments together are tense and filled with gaps of uncomfortable silence. There's an unspoken agreement hanging over them: Scar doesn't question Bdubs' frozen and frail state, and Bdubs pretends not to notice how Scar's skin has gotten pale and ghost-like, or how he glances behind him often, like he's being followed by a shadow only he can see. Though of course, Bdubs does notice. The whole server does. Grian wakes up in a cold sweat from a dream of Scar's ruthless attempts to destroy the mycelium resistance. Cub feels his own ties to the vex magic acting up once again, now worrying more than ever what Scar may have encountered in this broken world. Even Mumbo's evoker friend begins acting different, though Mumbo can't seem to determine whether it's out of excitement or fear...

-@/crows-in-space

- Scattered AU After the Wels meeting Hels Headcanon I imagine maybe Hels offers a deal to insure his safety on the Hermitcraft Server in exchange for Wels safety in the Nether. Wels very reluctantly agrees adding to the deal that Hels won’t hurt anyone. To bad he didn’t notice his Evil counterpart cross his fingers while shaking on it.

- anonymous

- Scattered AU: TFC spawns on the main end island, dragon and all. With out proper preparation he’s been stuck in a death loop since the world’s start. Sometimes, right before he dies, he wishes that the janky respon would de-age his body; he’s not the agile young man who could take down the dragon solo anymore.

- @liagrace-b

- Scattered!Grian can’t fly. His normal down-featherly wings look like every feather has been plucked off, leaving the very sensitive skin open to the elements. But the world’s code itself has altered the physics of the wings themselfs. Grian can feel how much heavier the wing structure sits on his back, meaning that they couldn’t let him glide even if fully feathered. Poor Grian hasn’t survived the freezing cold long enough to know if his feathers would grow back with enough time.

- anonymous

- EX somehow gets into the scattered mix. Spawning in the Deep Dark, the exiled admin is terrified, and will stop at nothing to find his brother. 🌙

- (Scattered AU) Scar and Bdubs, after months(?) of travel, make it to the Ender Dragon's island. Bdubs is scared for both of their lives; he is in no condition to fight, he can't even STAND, and he's so, so afraid to die and be condemned to falling forever in the void once again. Scar says nothing, only gently setting his friend down behind an obsidian pillar before his skin goes completely translucent, his eyes clouding white. (Paraphrased: Scar defeats the dragon, him and Bdubs meet up with TFC)

- @/petrichormeraki

- the plugins do not work, so singleplayer sleep is out. Beds do reset spawn point, so the Hermits who spawned in a place where they can get them would do well to make several and use them as checkpoints along their journey (and hope that they don't get broken, especially for those who had to escape death loops....)

- (my answer to some questions)

- Those trapped in death loops change, adapting until they aren't harmed anymore or till they escape. After all, what are players if not adaptable?

- @permafrost782

- Xisuma blames his broken helmet for being unable to admin, as some sort of comfort. But there is no comfort there. The truth is, not even Joe, Tango, Cub, or Hypno can access the chat, can even begin to run commands to fix what has gone wrong. If they could, they would have teleported everyone to 0,0 and reset the worldspawn. Those partnered with any of the admins feel a certain kind of hopelessness. Those without feel a different kind of hopeless.

- @/basaltdragon

- To add to the scattered AU: Though i had seen someone explain the void connecting to the end so Bdubs gets out of that fall, i had the thought of this; What if eventually the void loops around with the overworld's sky, so he's basically in a continuous loop if falling to his death and respawning in the void until he finally is lucky enough in his falls to get over water and live. After that he just has to stay alive otherwise he returns to the void..

-@aetosofvalla

- Somewhere, in the back of Scar’s vex-addled mind, there’s the worry of Jellie. Where is she? Is she with another hermit? Did she spawn in with another village again and will he have to find her again? -🟣

- (Scattered AU) Cub and Scar have been linked by the Vex ever since their deal. One day, Cub's iron armor burns against his skin all at once, and through the searing pain is a horrifying realization that Scar has given in. - M

-@/petrichormeraki

- After a while Cub gets the resources to build a nether portal, but then he finds his portal has connected with someone else's. He finds himself lost again, without access to the farms he's built or the resources he's gathered, but at least he knows a friend is close.

- anonymous

- The End duo come across another end city. There’s a boat at the far end. Scar flies up on delicate vex wings to get the spare elytra and other loot. They’ve been walking for far too long. He floats down (as if he had the slow-falling effect. There’s only health in the brewing stand. Bdubs’ worry for Scar increases) with an extra set of trousers, boots, an elytra, the potions and a pic. Scar offers the elytra to Bdubs. He refuses. It’ll take longer to walk, but he never wants to fall again🟣

- Mumbo gets caught up in redstone work and doesn't bother trying to find anyone else. So when another hermit finally finds him, he has to stop his evoker friend from attacking. Whether or not he's successful is another thing.

- Anonymous

- (Scattered AU) Consider. When Doc finds Grian on the mountain peak while exploring the terrain, a message sends through everyone's communicators. <Grian was blown up by a Creeper>. Doc doesn't get a death message that time, despite both of them suffering the consequences of a surprised Doc in a server where mob-oriented hermits are more volatile than they should be. Doc doesn't go looking for other hermits again after that, and Grian is shocked into numbness at the dawning realization that his monster friends might be so much worse off than he thought. - M

- @/petrichormeraki

A summary of where things stand so far

- scattered au pog!!! hypno is in a seemingly endless flowery field. it was nice at first, but there's no trees, no food, and hardly any water. the sun is so hot. flowers aren't filling. hypno thought he liked being alone.

- Anonymous

- Mumbo doesn’t succumb to the magic of the mansion like perhaps Cub and Scar have, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t entirely unaffected- his skin becomes a little more washed out, instincts a little more violent- he certainly can’t go into villages anymore, otherwise the iron golem will smash him to bits

- @/fluffy-papaya

- With Scar using Vex magic, the Vex turn their attention to Cub, trying to tempt him at every turn. More then once he's found his mask in one of his chests, staring up at him, or awoken in a cold sweat from a dream full of vex. So far, he's resisted the temptation. Wether that lasts is another question entirely.

-@/bat-connoisseur

- Maybe eventualy hypno realises Even flowers would need water to grow, or that the bees must have a bee hive somewhere around here, and the bee hive is always connected to a tree(I think thats the case in Minecraft). So he tries to find where the buzzing comes from and follow the bees around.

- @/ciaravixen

- cleo bases a lot of her identity around being a zombie, right? she probably isnt too happy to be cured. she probably cries all the time it takes her to heal. it had to be done, but that doesnt mean she has to like it. and she doesnt, not one little bit.

- Anonymous

- that ask about Mumbo not bothering to look for anyone got me thinking.... Mumbo getting too caught up in his work with the evokers to look for the others. Mumbo making friends with the illagers. Mumbo knowing that it's completely reasonable that nobody has found him yet, but still getting the creeping feeling that no one is coming for him. Mumbo spending all his time with his new friends because, after all, they're here, and the hermits aren't... All this to say that, when the hermits eventually do find him, he might not be very inclined to leave...

- @/crows-in-space

- At one point, Mumbo's new friends are just...watching him try to do his stuff, observing. Mumbo's getting increasingly frustrated when ne of the evokers watching him breaks off and hands him something. At first he thinks its a totem of undying, its shaped like one, but its strange. Made out of iron, and its eyes are diamonds instead of emeralds. Then it starts to burn his hands and he passes out from the pain. When he wakes, its gone and he moves on, a bit more wary of his 'friends'. Maybe it was a mean joke, or some kinda of strange inhiation for the mansion maybe Except next time he's frustrated, he thows his hands up annoyed and fangs rise out of the ground around him and snap at the air. He cries out, confused, before looking at his hands which almost look like they've been painted with gray paints. it wont come off. He seems mentally the same but now he starts to experiment with his new found abilities. Maybe they can help with his redstone or even find others.

- Anonymous

- after trying a poisonous flower, hypno respawns back in the field. this time, he tries walking in a different direction. maybe this is the way out.

- Anonymous

- The flowers in Hypno’s area are just so perfect... blooming dandelions don’t lose their seeds when he brushes against them, petals that are crushed underfoot quickly regain their shape- and if his mind wasn’t so affected, he would’ve noticed the flower he picked was quickly replaced by another

- @/fluffy-papaya

- The Moobloom has one unique feature: The ability to leave behind flowers in its path... that is, the ability to alter the world around it simply by walking. These flower plains are not particularly large, maybe eight or so chunks across in each direction, but glitched world generation spawned in a herd of mooblooms, and all they've been doing is walking around causing little distortions, one on top of the other. From the inside, where Hypno is standing, the plains go on forever. The air is thick with buttercup pollen that's slowly dulling his sense of space and time. He has to pull it together, somehow. Force the world to recognise that he's walking forwards in a straight line. Or he'll be wandering in circles forever...

- @/draconic-dreams

- another hermit- maybe beef? sees the edge of a deep, fragrant field. on the horizon, not far away, is hypno, walking in circles. he calls but he cannot hear beef. something tells the man not to go into that field- at least, not without a flint and steel. (Shade note: Beef and Joe saved Hypno and are currently sheltering him (unconscious) in their spawn sanctuary)

- anonymous

- Maybe if they went through the exit portal and it glitched but good. They don't think about the fact it should send them back to their spawns, Scar feels something at the back of his mind that very much isn't him tell him to change his mind, stay in this place becuase they'll just be trapped if they try to leave, but Bdubs grabs his arm and jumps in before Scar can say anything. For a second, blessed silence, Scar's mind feels clear and normal. then they show up at world spawn and scare theother

- anonymous

(Shade note: people at the spawn haven now include Joe, Beef, Hypno, TFC, Scar, and Bdubs)

- Once Keralis and Cleo are healed up, the village gang starts going to 0,0 to try to meet up with others. On the way, they find a flower forest (potentially the same one Hypno’s in). They find some mooblooms and fall in love (this was def not done bc I want some fluff, nope not at all /s) -🟣

- Mumbo receives a set of robes from his evoker friend. He’s loathe to get rid of his suit, but at the same time... well, all the better to fit in, right? This is a glitch and fluke anyway, and he might as well blend in if the illagers ever turn on him. That’s it. That’s the only reason he tosses the suit jacket into the fireplace, don’t be silly. It has nothing to do with the feeling that he just doesn’t want to leave...

- anonymous

- I’m imagining Shattered Impulse looking like the Fishman from Shape of Water + the teeth of an Angler fish and the ability to unhinge his jaw. Poor guy probably gets mistaken for a glitched mob when someone finds him.

- @/fandomrecycling

- Yes hello it's me again. After the pollen spells breaks for Hypno (and whoever else might have tried to save him beforehand...), he notices he's a little different. he can't always control how he moves, he doesn't like eye contact, and he takes an even bigger interest in his, well, interests than before. Basically Tourettic Hypno go brrr (I am tourettic so feel free to ask me clarification!)

- @/fireflower-dusk

- I don't think Keralis has been mentioned except for being in the nether so I would like to contribute that he spawned in that soul sand and skeleton biome that has almost nothing in it.

- anonymous

- Mumbo, being hundreds of thousands of blocks out from spawn, is the last hermit to be found. Even after the glitch was fixed, Mumbo was so caught up in his research and new abilities that he no longer felt it mattered. He'd been apart from the hermits for well over a year now; and a long time ago he gave up hope that they'd come back for him. This was, of course, until he woke up one morning to a disturbance outside. When he goes to check the source of the racket, he's left frozen in place at the sight of Iskall on his mansion's doorstep. And at the end of it all, despite Mumbo telling himself that he was better alone, Iskall's hand on his shoulder, reassuring that "Yes, I'm here, yes, I'm real, and no, I'm not leaving, you spoon." Is enough for Mumbo to break, clinging to Iskall as if he'd disappear at any moment, murmuring "I'm sorry" over and over like a broken record. -🧸

- Maybe after Wels and Hels make their deal, and Wels gets some gold gear and a respawn anchor to click, Hels shows him how to create a portal to Hels the place to which from there, they think they can get into the overworld. The only catch being that to get in to Hels the place you need to focus all of you emotions onto pure hatred and anger, but the question is could Wels do it?

- Anonymous

- Hels taunts Wels about how no one came to get him, and plants ideas about how this was done on purpose, about how he's the only one to spawn in the nether for a reason. He tells him the hermits want him gone. And Wels of course becomes angry but he becomes angry at Hels for trying to tell him his friends didn't care about him. He's also angry at himself though, maybe for thinking he hasn't done enough to make his friends want to keep him around. He is never mad at the hermits though, never them

- TFC's concerned. Even if he thinks it's great he found Bdubs and Scar, the latter shouldn't be able to just kill the ender dragon alone. TFC doesn't know much about Scar but the man can barely fly usually, why did he turn into a vex, anyway? vexes don't exist in the end. TFC need to ask, at least to make sure he's ok, but everytime he tries he stops in his track once the cold, icy blue eyes stare back at him. devoid of the usual warmth his green ones have.

- Anonymous

- (Scatter AU) Saw someone mention the other ops on the server and had a thought: Tango is a programmer with a specialty in game programming. He’s probably sitting at the campfire thinking of every single way the game must have been corrupted to cause this many problems. If he could just get into the code, maybe he could fix some of these problems. I’ll bet he’s driving himself a little crazy thinking of everything that could be done to fix the world and not being able to do anything...

- Anonymous

- Cub was lucky, he thinks. Seeing the many death messages in chat, he's torn between gratitude that he's ended up with what almost looks like a normal spawn, and worry for his friends. After gathering enough resources to stay reasonably safe, he knows what he has to do next. So when he encounters Xb, he eventually suggests he takes some resources and a bed he's salvaged from the abandoned village and heads towards 0,0, hoping there'll be someone there. (1/3)But as for him... well, there's an obvious place to head as far as he can see, for someone with a safe enough spawn point and the ability to gather resources. A place where he knows for sure he'll find someone else, someone who needs help. After all, unless this world is even more messed up that it seems, there's only one place where a player would be killed by the Ender dragon, and he knows exactly how to get there. (2/3) (Shade note: Him and xB were not successful in finding the Hermit who the mystery portal belonged to. They must have died in the Nether and returned to their spawn point. XB resists the idea that they split up, but he sees the logic in it and agrees to start the long journey for 0,0.) (pt. 3 was eaten by the inbox)

- Anonymous

- Maybe one of the reasons Cleo doesn't like being a human as much is because she had chronic pain (particularly in her back) when she was alive, and when she gets cured after meeting up with False, Stress, and Keralis, her back pain comes back (along with all the other pains of being alive)

-@/justme123abz

- Whenever Etho spawns, wherever Etho spawns, he takes it upon himself to tell each and every Hermit he can find to head towards 0,0. He's not sure why, but he believes that if they get everyone together, they can figure out how to fix the broken world.If there aren't any Hermits in sight, he'll make a sign out of whatever's avalible before going searching. It's a complete pain to try and build anything coherent out of sand and cactus, but he has to try. He has to get everyone together. It's their best hope. It's their only hope.Even Evil X. Even Hels. Everyone. He doesn't care about past grievances. They need to get through this. And their only option is to do it together. (Shade note: He doesn't stay with Team ZIT for long. He probably dies trying to protect them from something, knowing that it will only result in him finding another Hermit anyway. Even though he himself isn't making any progress toward the origin, he counts it as a victory every time he can guide one of his friends just a little bit closer.)

- Doc Ren and Grian himself thought that him being found and safe would fix everything right? yea no he has horrible fevor, he struggles to retain warmth depsite 2 feet from a fire, he's tired and has a hard time stay awake becuase on the mt he slept alot, he barley eats cuz he cant hold too much down rn. He cant stand being alone or he'll start to panic, ands he's just trying to ignore the new fox fetures he has desperately when he's aware enough to do. Doc and Ren have a hard time ahead of them.

- Anonymous

- Mumbo was trying to make a machine with redstone and evoker magic to contact the hermits right?so what if he did build the machine ad at first his only way to get the magic was to go annoy the evoker hoping he would try to hit him and instead hit the machine to power it. Plan backfired so many times because of the vex killing him before. So when Mumbo becomes apprentice he wants to try power the machine himself but it breaks because he can't control how much magic he uses yet.time to study magic

-@/artsarasp

- Etho dies with the Zit and ends up back in it. Next he ends up in X's spawn, there's no one around but he finds the bloody tunnel X punched himself, and races down it to see in the distance Xisuma and Jevin in a cave.He calls out to them, only to get overwhelmed by zombies that just spawned, He manages to gurgle out 0,0 before he dies again. (He's now determined to be the messenger of meetings, even willing to die on purpose to find them all). After that? Ren's old spawn, now he has to track ren

- anonymous

- I guess hypno’s been... hypnotizd 👉😎👉

- We need more Jevin and xisuma interaction content, be it fluff or angst, how aware is jevin by the time Xisuma gets there? How many axolotls do they take with them on the way to the surface?

- @/ciaravixen

(Shade comment: We need more Jevin and xisuma interaction content, be it fluff or angst, how aware is jevin by the time Xisuma gets there? How many axolotls do they take with them on the way to the surface? )

- Mumbo having to learn how to use the magic, the evoker will probably also try to teach him how to summon the vex, even if Mumbo really wants to just focus on the magic and not the evocation.What if he's able to summon Scar since he gave his name to the vex? just by accident and Mumbo gets so startled by Scar's new appearance that he immediately interrupts the evocation and makes Scar dissappear. Scar reappears where he was before confused cause for a moment he saw Mumbo?did he allucinante??

- @/artsarasp

- Scattered AU! So what if what happened with EX and Hels happened with old hermits to? Like Biffa, Generikb, Jessassin etc etc. Everyone is concerned as it is but then they see a death message from one of them and realize it's even worse then they thought.

- Anonymous

- Once Wels and Helssknight are in Hels the have to sneak around a lot. Hels isn’t as popular there as he had previously boasted, that’s why he had tried to take over the over world. Cue heart to heart talk before a Hels version of another hermit cuts them off. (Can you pick the Hermit I’m kinda stuck here)

- Anonymous

- Iskall must have not even known the direction he was walking from his desert spawn, so its purely by luck he ended up finding the mansion mumbo resides in- his cybernetic eye is fixed almost instantly upon his arrival by mumbo and iskall feels his hope fades as he realises they’re /so/ far from the hermits. I also guess he must be worried about whats happening to his friend right before him, mumbo wouldnt willingly give into the vex and evoker magic right? 1/2 But he isn’t so sure anymore, the days at the mansion are quiet and uncomfortable as Iskall has to be wary of the illagers that walk the halls, mumbo assures him of his safety, but theres no light in his eyes - he doubts the illagers welcomed mumbo at first- The usual banter isn’t there at all, its dead silence as mumbo keeps on working and Iskall can see how paler his skin becomes and the blue scars that litter his body 2/2

- Anonymous

- Etho died and respawned at the true spawn once. Beef was elated to see him and was afraid if he let him go, he would disappear. He didn’t want to lose his friend again. In the end, he does, he was actually with Etho when he dies, and he never lets the feeling go.

- @/harley-the-pancake

- aww poor etho! At least he's okay with this new role as messenger. Now i can just imagen he ends up at Ren's spawn and manages to track the man, nearly dying but staying alive and- thats a house in the distance! He goes over and nearly runs into Doc, who invites him in surprised and they catch each other up, their spawns and Etho's situation. They're overjoyed to hear about the others and Ethos glad to see them realtivly okay. Grian's condition is worrying however, changed and still weak (1) They agree they need to start heading to 0,0 but Ren is nervous about leaving safety, Doc wants them safe, and with Grian still sick and weak from laying in snow for weeks it'll take a bit until he's stable enough to travel (he'll probs have to be carried anyways). Etho stays for a few days at their insistence for rest, he wants to keep going there is more hermits out there he hasn't found, they are insistent that he take time to recover. Then, he lets himself die. Off to the next hermit! (2)

- Anonymous

- This is for the very very beginning, but maybe before False meets up with Cleo, she spawns in a warm ocean biome. Coral structures fill the water around her, and tropical fish dart between them. It would be almost peaceful, were it not for the fact that False was encased in a cage of coral.It’s a gamble every time. She has to try and smash her way out of her colorful prison before the tide rolls in, slow and steady water rising up her body and over her head. The water makes her movements clumsy and arduous as she tries to free herself, racing against time to escape the awful tide. (Pt 2) OH SORRY I HAD AN IDEA (this is from the coral False anon)What if Stress and False both spawn in that biome and they have to try and help each other out before the tide comes in?? Added angst if one of the times one manages to escape but the other doesn’t

- Anonymous

- (scattered au) Every time that a hermit dies the universe and the world file starts to corrupt, the way that things are going if everything doesn't go back to normal soon, then the world will crumble on itself with the hermits inside.

- Anonymous

- Admins log, day: ⬛⬛⬛ I've finally managed to find my way to the drip stone caves, weirdly I think I may have a good connection down here, I'll try to contact the others, if they haven't forgotten about me yet. (Shade note: Far away in the woodland mansion, Mumbo rubs his eyes and marks down another failure on his latest contraption. How long will it be until he can generate a signal? He has no way of knowing that, for a single moment, it worked. He stopped checking his communicator a long time ago, so he doesn't see the single message until much later: <Xisuma> can anyone hear me?)

- At some point Etho cycles round to Doc's spawn. His friend is long gone but there are five creepers in formation watching him. Waiting for something.It takes a moment for him to recall the trick of unfocusing his ears just right, so that their hisses resolve into words. He hasn't had to do it for years, after all. He hasn't run into General Spaz since he left Chocolate Island.“It'ssss been a while, Esssssho” the General says. “Let'sssss make a wager”The General reaches out for a handshake... it seems the glitch finally gave him a pair of arms.(ancient Etho lore go brrrr)

- Anonymous

- Both the snow and the void are cold, and getting stuck in there means getting frostbite a lot is fairly likely, so Grian and Bdubs would be unlikely to get out with all their fingers...

- @/bat-connoisseur

- Based on a little piece of this ask where it was mentioned that Hypno passed out only three steps outside the flower biome, I start to wonder, how long was he wandering in circles without food? Why did he collapse so immediately? Was the biome itself perhaps sustaining him? Keeping him "healthy" (if you could call it that) and alive? COULD he have starved to death if he hadn't been pulled out? Or would he have just kept walking? And walking. And walking...

-@/asexualbert

- An idea focusing on evil xisuma. He ended up spawning on the nether roof, stuck with nothing but mushrooms and bedrock as far as the eye can see. No communication, no water, no way out. He can probably eat the mushrooms, at the very least.... but there may be some bad side effects from it. It's disheartening and lonely up there, dying from starvation over. And over. And over. At one point, etho may have spawned there as well... but of course, he wouldnt last long. Condemned to endless roof...

-@/therainofsweetmelody

- Okay, hear me out: after Hypno’s been out of his illusion for a while, he starts to get headaches. He doesn’t think anything of it, until he wakes up one day with small horns growing and flowers in his hair. In conclusion: Moobloom!Hypno

- @/harley-the-pancake

Art:

- An Impulse

- A Grian

- A Guardian Impulse

- A Void Bdubs by @/sweetest-honeybee

- This Hypno by @/irys-97

- an Iskall and a Grian

- a fox Grian

- A Guardian Impulse

- a suffering Xisuma

- Mumbo and Evoker doodles

Writing:

Up. He needs to go up. He spawned too deep in the world, and though he'd heard of underground spawns there was no way, no way in the world that being so deep under was normal. Every cave he crawled up either came to a dead end or opened into a massive, mob-filled cavern, and somehow he still hadn't found even half a mineshaft. He could spend hours upon hours painfully clawing his way through the stone, but he keeps convincing himself it'll be faster to find a cave that leads to the surface. The pounding heartbeat of a warden stills rings in his ears, an ever-present reminder of his terrible luck. If only he could get some wood. Just a few planks, some torches. Anything. It's almost as if the stone doesn't want him to leave.

- @basaltdragon

- Buried by @arts-and-drafts

- Cleo grits her teeth and pulls a leather cap low over her head and stays on the outskirts of the taiga village, where the less scrupulous people go. She can't stay here long, if an iron golem catches her she's going to end up social spawning a bunch of less sapient friends and wiping out the village. The air is cold and thin out here, close to the mountains. The strays leave her alone. She's not sure how to feel about that. ~@betweenlands

- "A poem, by Impulse" by @/rayveewrites

- Pulse by @/arts-and-drafts

- Unnamed Impulse fic by @bat-connoisseur

- Another Impulse fic by @/betweenlands

- Don't think about it by me (@shadeswift99 )

- A poetic fic by @irys-97

- this short anon piece

- If I lose myself by @/arts-and-drafts

- Mountainside by @/basaltdragon

- Sleepwalk by @/betweenlands

- This Grian fic by @silverechosandsmileymasks

- A Jevin fic by @/basaltdragon

- This Hypno piece by @/fireflower-dusk

- This Iskall anon

- Alternate Impulse fic by @/rayveewrites

- Short Grian fic by @rk9-mew2

- an alternate headcanon for Mumbo

- This Xisuma fic by @/bat-connoisseur

#hcraft #hermitcraftheadcanons #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mod shade #masterpost #scattered au #long post

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xxrat--punkxx · 3 years

Text

JUMPING ON THIS BAND WAGGON

Ok here’s my 2020, tw//mentions of suicide and abuse

(Strong start lmao) 2020 sucked ass lemmi tell ya. This year was a fucking train wreck from the start, ur hay I got character development so who cares. Well let’s start with a review, bad things first.

Yall remember when everyone was scared shields of COVID?. Lol. But that’s stating the obvious. When we went into lockdown I was first like fuck yeah summer lol, but then the threat of ‘staying home for the rest of the year’ set in, bing in my first year of sixth form I really understand the stakes of exams next year. So having to stay home for the rest of the year freaked me the fuck out. I literally couldent cope, having to do all classes online was fucking hell, they were never zoom classes either, just ‘lmao do the work and hand it in’ which was near impossible for me. I was also in the constant ‘oh no I’m so stressed but I will do NOTHING about this lmao~’. As the days turned to weeks and inevitably MONTHS, my mental health said buckle up bitches. Days were spent sitting in my room on my phone doing NOTHING, meanwhile this perpetual notion of stress played in my head yet there I sat not having the will or motion to move.

Then my parents got involved. Now THATS when shit went from pretty crummy to awful, now I was living with them constantly I was able to see who they really were with no real filter. And oh god do I have issues, I didn’t even fucking know. Every day was an argument, my mom was the worst, the MANIPULATION, the constant ‘you're tearing this family apart’ or ‘so I’m the problem?’ Or the fucking indecent playing the victim. And I all only just realised, that they have been doing this ALL MY LIFE. Dad got involved but he was just physically violent, only twice tho. The worst part was my work, admittedly yes, I didn’t do everything I was given, but I tried, I really did with what little motivation I had. But with just one ‘oh your daughter hasn’t handed in this work’ I was a ‘lazy, good for nothing failure’ to quote ‘who will never go anywhere in life’ so I’d spend the rest of the day crying while they play the victim bury saupying I was abusing their love and just using them for money. But the next day be like ‘oh I’m so proud of you you're doing so well�� having that statement being completely unrelated to the previous events. This was constant. So that’s that story. I won’t talk much about Black Lives Matter because we all know about how that went. But it really affected me, I found myself crying over the victims multiple times. And the lack of support for the movement my peers or family showed made it fucking worse. Crying was a common occurrence for me now, mental health really taking a nosedive, being too scared to call myself ‘depressed’ or ‘mentally ill’ to any extent because I know I’m faking it and just want validation. That was also constant. Fun times huh.

BUT IT GETS WORSE 🥲, then I had to go back to school, awful to fucking abhorrent now. Year two of sixth form fun right? Sure, if u take away the ‘no free time period’ or the wanting to kill mystery for literally a whole 3 weeks. That was my lowest peak. Ever. I’ve never wanted to kill myself before then, don’t like that feeling. Shocker huh. That mixed with the constant anxiety of nothing is right anymore and also needing to succeed at school all made one healthy dose of ‘.exe has stopped working’ juice. Yet I played the fool, acting happy as if nothing had happened, or was happening at least, and venting by imagining scenes in my head with fictional characters lmao. Telling myself ’u can’t kill yourself because u don’t deserve too and ur just asking for attraction’. Then midterms happened blah blah blah, stress but I’m numb to it now that whole story.

But that’s not to say there wasn’t a silver lining.

Onto the good things finally, yes the year was probably one of the worst years I’ve been through in my life it did not go without its positives. For example early this year I got into borderlands properly, I finally explored the fandom and had a look at what it was like. Albeit a slow process considering I was still predominantly on Instagram at the time, and finding a community of a fandom on there is impossible. I started browsing Pinterest or the Internet for images that would link to my favourite characters, Who were to no ones surprise is the calypso twins. Pinterest led me to artworks and artworks led me to the infamous Lazulizard. Who I cherish all my being. Three weeks later after looking at her entire tumblr blog and stalking her of pretty much all her content (sorry for that by the way) I found border-spam. By this point I didn’t have tumblr and I had no intention of getting it seeing as an ongoing war I’ve had with myself since 2012, declaring I will be the bigger man and never get tumblr, which in hindsight was an awful mindset. Seeing as tumblr is probably one of my favourite places on Earth right now. But after also stalking border spams account, again sorry, and starving her of any content she’d ever posted. I was happy that this fandom although as niche as it is was actually getting content. At the time spam and lazu were absolute gods to me. Being the sole producer of a fandom I probably wasn’t even in properly, having both impeccable writing and impeccable art like good God. I would often think ‘wow wouldn’t it be incredible if I actually got to talk to them one day’, now look at me I’m doing commissions for both of them good God. And to be short joining tumblr felt like a fever dream and it’s probably the greatest thing I could’ve done this year, my parents are wrong, talking to strangers is amazing.

Something notable of mention this year as I actually got to figure out who I am as a person, I was able to find my own style and to find my interests, specifically in what I liked in terms of clothing. I thought I was LOL 2012 goth hipster but no apparently I’m manic Pixie dream girl. Going from pink is the ugliest colour in the world to having it be the only colour I will ever wear. I made some pretty big choices this year like cutting pretty much all of my hair off and dying it for the first time. Thanks strict parents for only letting me do that one now. But like I said I went to a character Ark and you know what I like it. I also played BioShock fallout and horizon zero dawn for the first time this year starting to really feel like a proper epic gamer, good lord kill me, and falling in love with all of them almost immediately. I also figured out on a plant mum and I’m into vulture culture although my parents have to disagree with that one. Asking to buy an Horse and fox skull somehow scared them a little bit can’t seem to figure out why lmao.

So a conclusion, Fuck you 2020 you made me miss two comic cons and I will never forgive you for that shit I am SO mad. But I will give you the benefit of the doubt you did make me meet some absolutely incredible people who I consider my friends, despite going against every single Internet safety law I was ever taught as a child. But you know what who gives a flying shit I love you guys. So that’s what I wanted to say. I want to say thank you to everyone on here and everyone is following me or even interacted me with on that matter. You mean the world to me and I really fucking mean it. Are you going to be nothing but amazing ever since I walked onto this fucking hell hole. And what I go through all of this bullshit again if it means I ended up here? You know what I think I just might. So again I thank you and I hope your year didn’t go as badly as mine, and fuck it bring on whatever the fucks next!

Honourable mention of this year was The time Elisa actually complimented me and I cried a little bit and had a panic attack but you know that’s for another day

🥺💕

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goonlalagoon · 3 years

Text

Drawn to fall || Leagues and Legends

A series rewrite AU for @ink-splotch‘s fantastic Leagues and Legends books.

This has been sitting as a 90% finished draft for...a while, but talking to @soundofez about WIPs the other day prodded me to actually finish it up

Spoilers for the whole trilogy below

Read on Ao3

It was the Piper who fell first, a ricochet and a song vanishing from the world. Jack and George limped home, but the fight didn't stop with a round of prisoners stolen from the Seeress' grasp, with one more body laid to rest and another widow weeping.

The mage traders didn't get George. The Graves family and their guards were a constant threat, a blight, but the mountain vigilantes had plenty of other dangers to throw themselves in front of. It wasn't a bullet or a gun that slew the Dragon Slayer, but sharp claws and sharper beaks.

Jack never really made it home, from that. He walked through the bakery door and he held Bea as she wept, but he was burning and lost somewhere inside himself. He looked at Bea's maps, her petitions, and he threw himself into saving everyone he could reach with a manic desperation.

It was the Rangers who brought the news to Bea, when they lost the Giantkiller. Jack had been shrouded in good fortune, unknowing, for his whole life, but luck can only take you so far.

The bakery was cold and quiet. Beatrice Jones felt like she had frozen all the way through, turned to stone, and thought she might never thaw again.

(Bidi would wake in the night for weeks, tear stains dried into her cheeks, and crawl into her mother's arms. Bea would curl close around her and remember that she had felt this cold before. She would live through this.)

The news of their falls reached Rivertown, through channels both official and hidden. Rupert mourned the loss of an idol, and didn't know that the revered Rangers, far off in the mountains, were standing with red rimmed eyes at the grave. The Farrises didn't know what their wandering son had been up to, but Jack's mother woke one day to the aching certainty that he would never be coming home. She watched the horizon anyway.

Lanetia Jones heard stories of a mage who had whistled magic out of the air, of his fall, soon after she became acquaintances with the blue blooded hero in her second year study group. She would hold her back straight and clasp her hands neatly on the library table, and ask in a steady voice if he knew anything else about the Pied Piper. Rupert knew stories, legends, Bureau reports he technically shouldn't have seen - but he didn't know the name Liam Jones except from Laney's own tales, so they couldn't be certain.

They couldn't be certain, but neither of them had heard of any other mage who pulled magic into the world with a whistle, and Laney was a pragmatist. The numbers tallied up, the arrival of a dark skinned singer in the mountains and her brother setting out from home, never looking back.

(Liam had looked back for years, his mother's best recipes simmering on the hob, his daughter stumbling through songs a slightly older Laney had warbled terribly on his heels, old familiar stories ready on his tongue - mice and lions, thunderstorms given tongues to shriek, a stubborn kid with her hair scraped into braids by their mother's patient fingers ignoring scrapes and scratches until she could reach the top of the tallest palm tree, because someone had told her that she wasn’t allowed to.)

In the Academy library, warm golden sun spilling over her table and the back of her chair, Laney held herself tall and still because Rupert was neither friend nor enemy, just a classmate, but she would not let him see her weakness either way. She would not.

Rupert fetched slim volumes of legends, dispatches from the past seven years of Vigilante activity in the mountains, and a glass of water. He ached and didn't know how to help, stuffy with it, so when she got carefully to her feet he didn't follow. He re-shelved the books and checked that they hadn't left anything behind, and then he went to do his Uncle's paperwork, burying himself in it until he felt useful again.

They had barely interacted in their first year, but Rupert had known her name and a few other things about the desert-born mage that weren't common knowledge before they were assigned their second year projects. He arranged for them to go to Sally-Anne's for their first meeting, because it seemed like the kind of place that would help everyone relax - would help him relax, really. Sally-Anne gave him a reassuring wink and a bonus plate of chips, on the house, and he sighed pointedly at her transparent attempts to Help Him Make Friends to make her laugh.

When he got back to the table Clem was awkwardly trying to flirt - or possibly just bond, it wasn’t clear - with Laney, who looked stunningly unimpressed. The pipsqueak Sage that Rupert was keeping an anxious eye on while he tried to formulate a discreet way of sneaking numb tea to was buried in his book, slowly demolishing a plate of plain fries without looking up. Heather was rolling her eyes at Laney whenever Clem said something particularly demonstrating an inability to read the mood, and the rest of the time scribbling notes in the margins of a scientific journal she'd brought along with her. Annals of Botany, Rupert thought, because he'd seen her with it in the dining hall on a monthly basis all of the previous year and it was about the right time for a new issue to have been sent out to subscribers. He didn't square his shoulders, because they were already carefully level, posture already perfect. He took a steadying breath before setting down his purchases and trying to drag things back to the agenda he'd planned out the evening before.

Rupert's agenda had included contingency plans, of course. What really had to be covered first, in case someone needed to dash off and hadn't thought to warn him. Who could pick up the slack if their combat spec decided he had more important things to do (Rupert), who could keep their squeaky sage on track (also Rupert), and who would cover what as a back up if someone fell ill (Rupert again).

He hadn't planned what to do if armed men walked into his friend's shop and fired a gun in the air. He had no precise strategies, no intel whispered in his ear by Sez, just his Academy study group and their homework assignment clutched in Grey's trembling fingers, just a room full of frightened civilians.

Clement went down with a bullet in his shoulder, and a bricklayer hit the ground with one in his gut not long after. Laney and Rupert held a hissed conference, and Heather weighed in to point out that official witnesses were probably not part of the thieves' plan. He'd seen gunpowder dusted on Laney's fingertips at breakfast for months, so he wasn't surprised when she fired off perfect sniper shots with the gun that fell within reach. Grey pressed himself back against the wall, pale, quiet, eyes wide over cheeks lit up gold, and that wasn't a surprise either. Heather sitting on one of the fallen gunmen and threatening to force feed him the poisonous plants she was casually carrying around with her was, though mostly because he'd thought she had a basic grasp of health and safety.

Laney trailed him as he went to find Sez, and he would berate himself for carelessness later, but - men had broken into Sally's shop with guns, and the streets were never still or silent. She would know soon, and she needed to hear that Sally was okay from someone she trusted, someone she knew wouldn't have left if it wasn't true.

She dropped her tray down next to him at breakfast the next morning and said she wanted in. Heather and Gloria joined them while he was still blinking and sighing, considering, and he looked around the half empty mess hall with confusion, because he wasn't entirely sure what they wanted from him. He thought maybe Laney was after some excitement, a sharpshooter mage feeling trapped by petty class politics and Academy expectations, but he didn't know about the other two. They asked him for the salt shaker, his opinion on Professor Rhones’ lecturing style, and nothing else.

He let Laney help him with his next Rivertown job, and they patched each other up afterward, discussing strategies and critiquing their own form. They sat together in the library later that week and she asked politely about his essay, on vigilantism in the Mountains and how to effectively combat it - and in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun, he told her about the Pied Piper and broke her heart.

When Sez next contacted him, he knocked politely on Laney's door, braced for it to slam in his face and holding his shoulders carefully relaxed so it wouldn't show. She didn't shut the door on him, but she did demand to know, on their brisk walk back to the Academy after eliminating a Thing that had taken up residence in an alleyway, if this was pity. She didn't want to join him on these tasks because he felt sorry for her, or because he felt guilty - she wanted to help because she wanted to sink her teeth into something real.

Rupert blinked at her, and began patiently dissecting their joint performance, gave a litany of tactical reports of earlier jobs where a sharpshooter or a mage - or both - would have made things much more...efficient. Laney listened suspiciously for any hint that she was being coddled, but her stomach settled. She had a bruise the width of her palm on her ribs and a stinging burn starting to blister on the backs of her fingers, and she felt a fierce joy welling up through her chest. Laney had learned to fall, true, but that was only half the battle - she'd learned to stand, too, to hit the ground and push herself back to her feet, to decide what was worth falling for, over and over. This, the safety of these streets and these people - this was worth standing for.

Gloria and Heather cornered her one afternoon in the room she and Gloria shared, and demanded to know what was going on. Laney had been slipping out and sneaking back with bruises for over a month, and they were worried. Laney looked at the earnest concern and said, with perfect honesty, that she was doing some extra curricular self-defence training. This had the unintended side effect that Gloria and Heather both wanted in. Rupert sighed when she reported this, and she raised an eyebrow.

"You'd prefer that I'd told them we're Rivertown vigilantes? I can, you know, I think they're both capable of keeping a secret, but I figured you'd rather I not make that kind of decision on your behalf." Rupert sighed again, but he did suggest that the stables would be an okay venue for self-defence classes, and he got her to set up wards so that if anyone came looking they could very quickly pretend to have been doing homework. After all, they were a study group.

The first time the wards went off, they actually just switched to doing core circuits because honestly nobody who'd be checking would believe four people in training gear and somewhat out of breath had been doing their homework in an out of the way corner. Circuits probably still wouldn't be strictly approved of, but they wouldn't be disciplined for breaking Academy rules.

But it wasn't one of the Academy instructors checking for misbehaviour. It was a rather surly combat spec, who seemed quite surprised to see them and immediately asked if Leaf had invited them. Rupert blinked.

"Hello, Francis. No, I haven't spoken to Leaf about...much of anything, really. Laney and I have been using the space for some fitness training, and these two decided they were also interested." Francis gave him a considering look, and nodded slowly, glancing over the rough straw pallets they'd set up to cushion their falls. He gave them a flicker of a smile.

"Leaf and I were planning something similar, actually. Mind if we merge?"

Their study group met in the library or dining hall, after that first foray out into the city, but Laney and Rupert were frequent faces at Sally-Anne's. The growing stable loft gang started dropping by too, laughing over in-jokes and nursing bruises, grinning brightly. Red would claim a corner seat and relax into it like the noise and bustle were a second skin, like he was more comfortable with a floor strewn with straw and fish scales than the polished length of the dining hall at the Academy.

Rupert started watching Francis, quietly and from the corner of his eye, during the handful of classes they shared. A few months into their extracurricular training began, he would suggest that Red join them on their hunts in Rivertown, and shrug when asked why me. It was a decision he had hesitated over, but not one he regretted, after the first alley they raced down, side by side, chasing a wounded manticore into Laney's waiting shields, Red adapting almost instantly to the strengths of his allies.

He had a wealth of knowledge of the things that crept through the dark, though he shone most when it came to creatures of the deep. Soon after the winter break a (small) kraken made its way up the river, and Red barely hesitated before calling out instructions, demanding supplies from the terrified crowd of civilians, not needing to think about what weaknesses were there to exploit. As they bandaged themselves up, after, Laney caught Rupert's eye and raised one eyebrow a hairbreadth. He blinked solemnly in agreement, and they waited patiently until Red was ready to tell them what they'd already guessed.

When Sez handed Rupert a piece of paper scrawled with yellow crayon, he and Laney poured over it for days. Laney dragged out book after book, picking the curse to pieces with a steady determination until she knew how to burn through it. Neither of them knew enough of the shape of this, yet, to know that there was a warning they should offer in turn.

Over the years, Rupert had fought a lot of battles in the name of Rivertown and its inhabitants - in back alleys and warehouses, shin deep in the river and slipping on the muddy banks (in the quiet of his private Academy dorm, the rustle of paper and the scratch of a pen). He had tackled petty thieves, thugs, monsters who went after human bones and Things in the dark. He knew he didn't know all of their victims' stories, but Sez was pale with fury when she told him a child was missing, door broken down and a terrified sibling hiding under a bed. The mother was wringing her hands at a table in the back corner of Sally-Anne's, bent double with grief and anger.

"Should have been more careful," she muttered, "we should have - we thought we were safe, so far from the mountains but the Seeress - everyone knows she doesn't like competition, but we thought we were out of her sight, so careless, so careless..."

Laney's face had gone still, carved from stone, and Rupert's heart was frozen in his chest. Someone had dropped a curse diagram in their pocket, and they hadn't thought about how. This was his city, and he hadn't known there was a risk, that there was any kind of warning needed. Red stepped forwards, reaching out to squeeze the woman's hands.

"Breathe. The slavers took her, you think?" She gave a harsh, sobbing laugh, and he nodded sharply. "Sorry. But we have time, then, because they have to get her to the mountains first, and she has to be alive when she gets there. We have a chance." He didn't sound hopeful, just determined, but she took a shaky breath and squeezed his fingers back. Laney wasn't moving, wasn't saying anything, and Rupert knew she was as puzzled as he felt. Red looked at them sidelong as they slipped out onto the street, and frowned.

"You don't know? In the mountains - there are people who steal mages and drain the power of the Elsewhere out of them, process it to make electricity. Mages have been fleeing the mountains for years, now."

Once, Rupert had broken Laney's heart in the Academy library, unknowing, with reported stories of a lost vigilante. There was so much that they hadn't known, then, and now they were floating on the edges of it. Rupert had known there was a Piper, that he had fallen - but he hadn't known who. They hadn't been able to guess at why.

Laney was thinking of her brother's smile as he poured golden fire into her palms to drift through her fingers. She was thinking of all she had done, to feel that fire on her skin, and of the things she would never have thought of. She had wanted to walk alongside her brother, so badly, but she’d never once thought to drag him down for daring to be something she wasn't.

Red had no idea of the blow he had just delivered, unknowing, in the afternoon sun outside Sally-Anne's. He knew only that there was a child in a lot of danger, and not much hope - but that any hope was still something.

They didn't have supernatural good luck on their side, but they had Sez and all of her contacts, so they found the warehouse. The slavers were waiting for them, forewarned, and they woke in the locked cellar. The child they’d been searching for was curled in the corner, eyes wide and face pale. Laney had expected her to be weeping, but she seemed to be frightened beyond even tears. They were all bound, but their captors hadn't thought to check Laney as thoroughly for weapons as the others - because she was an Academy mage, because she was a girl, because everyone underestimated her at first - so she had a knife tucked into her boot that they could use to cut the ropes. A glowing stone was hung around her neck, casting warm light and harsh shadows in the otherwise dark room. Elaine's wide eyes tracked it, but Laney didn't know what the point of it was, and she had other priorities, here, than asking.

So did Red and Rupert, so they didn't tell her until later, when they had bandaged wounds and finished their homework. They had her set up a careful silencing ward around Rupert's unofficial single room, and explained why the slavers had dropped a fracture in the fabric of the world around her throat. Laney didn't flinch, because no matter how much she trusted this friendship this was not a weakness she was ready to show them. But she trusted them enough to tell them the story - skinned knees and golden fire, her palm pressed up against the endless desert sky, splitting it open.

The Rangers came to visit, sending Red into fits of hero worship - Rupert was almost as bad, except he also remembered seeing half of them as students. Laney and Leaf exchanged long suffering looks full of affection. Gloria and Heather snickered and pretended not to know any of the names being gleefully praised at breakfast, seeing how much of Red’s breakfast they could filch off his plate while he recited heroic deeds before he realised what they were doing and snatched theirs in retaliation.

When the legends of the Bureau arrived, they immediately slipped cheerfully into the back of a lecture, hiding nostalgic giggles that they were too well trained (too used to ambushes) to let slip. They listened to lectures the material of which they'd learned and lived by for years, looking over the assembled students with interest and an unvoiced shared feeling that they were all so very young. They hovered around to chat, to officially mingle and inspire, and Sarge froze when he heard Laney's name. He'd known an L. Jones, mage, once upon a time, and never known how to reach the next of kin without getting tangled in the official channels that they couldn’t afford to get involved.

Rupert followed along when Laney was invited to a private meeting with Sarge and May. They both had their suspicions about what reason these two legends could have for wanting to speak privately with Miss Jones, the very first time they met, and he wanted to be there for her if they were right. He had planned to wait outside, patient as stone, the way she had over their months of friendship when his uncle was giving him frantic hushed reminders about status and reputations and not sneaking out of the Academy in the middle of the night to do freelance vigilante heroics in the back alleys of Rivertown. Laney caught his sleeve briefly as he went to lean against the wall, a brief unvoiced request for company.

May and Sarge didn't know what a concession this was, for Laney to guess what grim news they held out to her and to invite someone else to witness it. They didn't know anything of her but stories, and Liam had never been someone Laney was afraid to see her bruise.

They had guessed, over a year before this otherwise unremarkable evening, that the Piper had been Liam. Red had told them what monsters lurked in the mountains, and they had guessed why. But there is a difference between guessing, between cold logic and lining up the pieces, and confirmation. There is a difference between guessing that the rumours of a distant fall are of your brother, and being told where to find his grave by friends who know his widow. There is a difference between knowing your brother had years of his life away from you, and being told by his grieving friends that he had a wife and child, names you never knew and faces you can’t imagine.

The walls seemed too close when she slipped back out with Rupert steady at her shoulder, eyes dry and back straight, so they made their quiet way to the familiar streets of Rivertown. She was staring at the distant mountain peaks when an explosion split the night, fire blooming on old wooden rooftops behind them. They called their friends to arms, marshaling Academy forces and rapping out orders in practiced partnership. Sarge stepped forward to object - he knew them only as Heads' stuffy nephew and Liam's beloved sister, not tested heroes in their own right. They didn't have a looming redhead vouching for them with years of shared experience they were still only grasping the edges of. Sarge knew them only as children, and he had buried too many of those. Laney froze him in his tracks with her mother's best icy look, and didn't know whether it was that effective or if it was just how unfamiliar that face would be, to someone who had only known Liam and his easy smiles.

Their city was on fire, and it all led back to the same warehouse - faced with a fire demon, Laney slipped by in the harsh shadows to find the rift, while Rupert stayed behind as a distraction, a barrier. He was a paper pushing hero, and the sword in his hand had seen active duty than some of the Bureau Leagues could claim. The flames bore down at him in roaring symphony, and as he adjusted his grip he politely asked it to go back to where it came from. He gave it a chance, a choice, and when it shrieked threats instead he killed it without a second thought.

Rupert had killed more often than some active Leaguesmen, too.

People started to whisper about Laney, after. They called her the Lady of the Lake reborn, and Laney raised impassive, mysterious eyebrows and privately snickered over the abrupt about face of her fellow mages. They whispered about her and so they came down from the mountains, hunting for a golden goose and taking a girl who was barely even a sensitive. Thorne wasn’t trying to trap a Giantkiller, this time, but he was trying to test his potential recruit - and he wanted to get her out of the influence of her far less interesting classmates. Laney didn’t know this, not yet; she only knew that these were the people who hunted mages for the sake of the fire hidden under their skin.

These people had hunted a Jones before, and Laney was going to make them bleed for every heartbeat she had lived without him. She had an elsewhere crack around her neck, and it faded in the golds of the elsewhere as she told an exasperated, understanding Rupert that she wasn't running from this.

Rupert followed shortly after on a surprise internship, a desk hero out to get some field experience. Laney wasn't running, but she also hadn't been sitting around doubting this friendship, so she'd known she wouldn't be doing this alone even before she slipped away to speak to him. Gloria, Heather and Clem went North too, because someone had taken their mage (their sharpshooter, their friend) and they were going to get her back. Sarge frowned over the paperwork, but they were a close-knit group, and Rupert had forged the paper trail too convincingly to stop them. Sarge scowled and scowled, and was uncomfortably uncertain whether he would have stopped them if he could. He had known another Jones, once, with golden fire like that in his veins. He knew what they did to mages with a legend that spread that far, in the mountains.

(A squeaky sage named Sanders Grey buried his nose deeper in his books and pretended fiercely that it was nothing to do with him - that he didn’t know why, that he didn’t know where, that he didn’t feel guilt pooling in the pit of his stomach. He pretended that the headaches were from reading in the dim light, and some days it was even true. He would spend a grudging season after he graduated at the Waypost in the Forest, then move to the library in St John’s Port to embark on a happy lifetime organizing books and scowling at visitors. Spider had left a letter and a parcel of books for him, as he slipped into the Academy to steal away one of their students from down the hall, but hadn’t tried to tempt him home; he trusted Sandry’s chances without her brother’s help, in a world where their three most visible opponents were years dead and buried)

Laney fled the slavers in the middle of the night and was dragged back by the next morning, unknown trackers hidden on her skin. Spider hauled them all before the Seeress, a useless clump of people who held no value or interest to her except for that one of them was the Piper’s sister, an amusement to gloat over. She sat Laney down for a polite chat, to detail how her brother had been a thief and a fool and how he had died.

She did not mention how bright that light had burned, how she had felt it snuffed out. Laney kept her face smooth but the Seeress read her feelings in the flickers of gold around her shoulders, her unclenched fists, her smooth brow - despair, hatred, and a furious broken love. Cassandra wasn’t quite sure, yet, what she planned to do with these interlopers, but killing Bureau Leagues, even trainee ones, was not a sensible course of action, so she shut them in the cells until she had time to calculate her angles.

Laney broke them out instead, and they fled. It was sheer luck that led them to find the shallow cave with supplies and wards to hide them from the sight of even Cassandra Graves - an overturned rock that exposed a hint of a rune, a scuff mark at the back that suggested where to stand to complete the ward. Laney and Gloria pieced it together, and if either of them thought it odd that it should be both so secure and yet coincidentally left open, they did not voice it. In the morning, they stumbled down a valley into a sleepy village that held a statue and a grave that Laney still didn’t quite believe belonged to the same man.

(Spider did not linger to see if they found the shallow hiding hole - he had done his best, and he could not afford to be discovered. He had given them a chance, which was more than he could give most. Thorne had sent a letter North with quiet instructions, and this had been one of them. He had given no reasons why, but Spider was well used to this)

But there was more to this village than the ghost of Laney’s older brother in a village the Rangers had told her how to find. Sarge had told her about Beatrice and Bidi, too, and he’d sent a message North to the Baker, telling her to be on the lookout. Laney recognised the wards pressed into the bones of the bakery, stopped short with her shuddering breath caught in her throat, and Bea stepped forward to pull her into a hug.

They stayed a few days, until they woke one morning to a flag on the hill declaring that an informant had come visiting. Bea took Rupert with her when he offered, but left the others behind. She recognised the resigned pragmatism in his shoulders; she knew he would understand bargaining with almost any devil for the sake of fewer names on a list of the dead. Rupert would understand taking information from the Spider, but she thought the others might object on principle, and the Baker’s network wasn’t so widespread that she could afford lose any threads no matter how little she liked them. Laney was busy teaching Bidi some of the stories from the desert that her father hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her; Gloria, Clem and Heather were keeping carefully out of the way.

They had no link to the Merry Men to earn safe passage through the Woods, so Bea sent messages to Little John through other channels and gave them directions to Challenge instead. Rosie scowled and watched them warily, but Laney was a Jones, and they all remembered Liam. Laney listened to them whisper, to the grief tinging unfamiliar voices, to the echoes of a hero she’d thought only she knew. Rupert had helped a mage in the mountains to heal, unknowing, and now he slipped from bed to bed, trying to use a gift he hadn’t known lurked in his skin.

It went the same as it would in a world where there were different friends here - a collapsed mine and a missing hero; slipping in Spider’s wake into the depths of the Graves’ lab. There was no pipsqueak sage to light the bombs, but Gloria and Laney figured out how to tie the necessary enchantment to a bullet when Spider flagged the issue in their planning session, a joint invention that would have been gleeful were it not for the circumstance. Clem went down under falling rubble and propped himself against a wall to wait while Laney ran towards the sound of danger - Heather and Gloria had followed Spider to the upper floors, met Cassandra Graves and been dragged before the Mayor.

There was no squeaking sage to have secrets torn out of him and laid bare, but Laney still went down with every knotted cord burning, still pushed herself to shaking knees to aim a gun into the golden light of every scrap of power she had wrung from the world and take her best shot.

They were looking for Rupert, and the Bureau was their best chance. Laney signed onto Thorne’s gleeful payroll, while Heather took up her delayed position at the university and Gloria joined her old classmate Grey in the library archives (and badgered Laney into both eating regularly and porting her out to hidden shooting ranges so that she could stay in practice).

Rupert broke himself out of a prison, the Seeress at his shoulder, and met them outside. Laney had been furiously planning a break in from the moment she’d put together where he must be, but Heather had befriended a Bureau lab tech while searching for interesting plants in the market stalls that lurked off the beaten track of St John’s Port, an acquaintance solidified in the frantic rush of triage in a soup kitchen turned infirmary, a mutual seething rage at a disease spread not by chance but by carelessness. Jillit Chu had passed a message on, quietly, a few days later, and one of the things Rupert had said was to wait.

He’d also had an informative discussion with Jill about the germination period of certain plants, which she hadn’t thought anything about mentioning to his friend when she asked anxiously how he was doing, not content with just he’s alive. Heather had nodded, thanked her, and gone back to the flat she shared with the others (and their uninvited but not unwelcome guest of Miz Eliza, when she wasn’t calling in favors and collecting resources to help retrieve her son) to give them a time frame. They were waiting with a getaway car, Laney using careful tricks picked up from the local hedgewitches to open a door, Gloria standing guard with a pistol their sharpshooter had pressed into her plump hands because she couldn’t trust her own.

Thorne wouldn’t know until hours later that there had been a security breach. They would have long since left St John’s Port behind, abandoning the truck somewhere for one of Miz Eliza’s associates to pick up while Laney ported them down to Rivertown - they had no mages with them to worry about the rift, though Laney held a quiet hope that the Seeress would be dragged into the fires instead of making it through with them. Cassandra saw this in the level set of Laney’s chin, the way her face was held perfectly smooth, the disdain in the flick of her eyes. She kept her own face still and expression disinterested. Neither of them were interested in letting an enemy see their flaws and weaknesses, even if Laney was bitterly aware she couldn’t truly hide them from a seer. Cassandra was safe in the knowledge that only two people had ever known of hers, and that neither of them would be telling anyone.

(Sandry didn’t know that her little brother had been only a few streets away, sleeping safe in the spare room the head librarian had been kind enough to let him rent cheap because he didn’t know anyone else in the city to share the rent of a flat with (because the lad was obviously years too young to be out on his own even if he furiously pretended otherwise) - she would have seen him if she’d been looking, but there had been other things to keep her eyes on, and she had long since trained herself out of wondering where Sam had gone.)

Rupert stumbled into Sally-Anne’s to be met with Sez’s fierce grin and a stern admonishment from Sally-Anne to never do that to us again. Laney lurked in the background, retrospective guilt pooling in her throat. It hadn’t occurred to her to let them know - that Rupert was missing, that they had leads, that if he was alive they’d find him and burn down any prison that tried to hold him, that they’d bring him home.

She wondered if they had figured it out somehow, or if they had been clinging to a desperate hope, a denial. She remembered sitting in the Academy library, learning that her brother was dead from whispered rumors, a full year after the fact. She remembered learning that there had been people who knew Liam had a family still in the desert, but hadn’t found a way to tell them they’d lost their footloose child.

(She remembered - she hadn’t found a way to tell the rest of the family yet, either, and shoved the thought back where it had come from. There was a revolution to win, first.)

Sez had been building plans for years, and Rupert wasn’t the reason for it but he was the spark to set it in motion. There was no-one left in their chosen battleground but those who’d decided they wanted to fight for this; Thorne tried to claim the town and Sez brushed away the dirt he was sneering down his nose at to show the lines already drawn. Golden walls rose, the careful work of patient hands, and Laney’s fingers itched to pick apart how it had been done.

None of them had lived through a siege before, but they knew enough from history lessons to know that Laney’s ability to port people out and supplies in were a lifesaver. Sez assigned her an assistant to track supplies and routes, a cheerful burly lad who joked about being a glorified scribe and went still and silent when they mentioned the forgetting field. He wasn’t much help with the technical work on Rememberer, or Laney and Gloria’s private project to see if they could build a device to extract energy direct from the Elsewhere, but it turned out he had a knack for spotting patterns and sifting through data, so they gave him the records of fire demons Red and Leaf had been compiling to filter through. Laney spent a tense few days wondering if she was the cause of things, until their stand in sage pushed pages of annotated maps at her and pointed out the total lack of overlap, chattered ideas for experiments at her to see if she might be strengthening the fabric of the world as she went. If he saw the way her shoulders settled, a tension she’d been hiding as best she could, he didn’t mention it.

Gloria had liberated plans for the machines from the Mayor’s ruined lab, correctly guessing that they wouldn’t be the only copies, knowing that even if not now that it had been done once it would be discovered again. She and Laney had spent scattered evenings pouring over them, figuring out how to modify them - if Laney could wring power out of the sky, they could find a way to make the machines work without draining a mage for power.

The Seeress had smuggled out her own copies of plans from the Bureau lab, parts of machines bundled up under her skirts - it would be their trainee sage who showed her the results of Laney and Gloria’s experiments, cheerfully oblivious to her history. He’d spotted her peering over the blueprints, and just thought that maybe she was helping the other two out. He didn’t understand why she burst into tears when the lightbulb flickered on, knees hitting the ground hard enough to bruise. If he had ever known her name, her reputation, he didn’t remember it to begin to guess at what this might mean. He figured that she must have lost a mage to the machines, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

When she wiped her eyes, Cassandra looked at him, at the ripples of gold around him, and told him who he was. She watched the bubbles pop around him as the knowledge faded as soon as he heard the words, and she hesitated. There was a cruelty here that she had delighted in at first, a delicious irony, but here was a compassion as well that she would never have thought to look for from this quarter. She looked at the machine, it’s low hum and the cold electric light, the lack of residue, everything she’d never let herself dream was possible, and thought I wish I could show Sam. I wish Spider was alive to see this.

Rupert didn’t question her, when she gave him suggestions on the rememberer. She didn’t challenge him on it, needling at loyalties and looking for a reaction, kept the barbs that sprang to the tip of her tongue locked behind her teeth, and reached for the wrench to make the adjustment.

Laney was on a watchtower when the floor rose to meet her, memories slamming back into place with an abruptness that sent her to the ground, that felt like it should have hurt. She fell more than climbed down the ladder, leaving her station to a confused second in command. There were furious shouts on the other side of the wall, and the part of her than wasn’t reeling guessed we weren’t the only ones they hid things from. Her heart thudded in her ears as she ran for Sally-Anne’s, guilt choking her as memories slotted back into place. She slammed into the doorway, stumbling to a halt - Gloria and Heather were already there, crying in belated grief, slumped either side of their cheerful trainee sage - their battered combat spec.

~~~

Clem had been required to repeat a year at the Academy to make up the work missed with his run of bad injuries, a broken arm in the first battle for Driftwood Island and a leg crushed in the fight at Gravestown. He’s called Gloria with regular updates on what Red and Leaf’s band of hooligans was up to that week and to talk about the mathematical puzzles they sent each other. Sometimes Heather stole the phone to tell him about her research, and he doodled out trend graphs on scrap paper while he tried to figure out what she was talking about. They talked about Rupert, a little, but none of them were so naive as to think that it safe to share their suspicions aloud.

A careful few days after Rupert’s memorial service, Clem had wandered down into Rivertown to have a quiet chat with Sally-Anne about a missing friend. He’d waited to see if there were any patterns to watch out for, any hints to send back to the others, to make sure that if any of the Bureau were watching saw just a grieving schoolmate who had accepted his loss. They weren’t sure if the Bureau were responsible for Rupert, but at the end of the day that just meant they weren’t sure they hadn’t been. Clem didn’t mention to the others that he’d made the trip - it didn’t occur to him that they hadn’t thought of it; he figured they’d rightly assumed he would handle it.

He kept his head down at the Academy as much as he could, though he couldn’t escape notice as one of the sort-of ringleaders of the new Stable Loft Crew (Red and Leaf ran it, but they’d figured out the year before that Clem wasn’t a bad support instructor). He couldn’t help search for Rupert, but he combed the library for information on Walking Stars, for statistics on the mountain’s energy supplies. He stepped in when he saw people being bullied, tried to see the patterns in the Academy Rupert had woven himself into and pick up the slack, and tracked down reports of shady Bureau dealings of the past, trying to see patterns in those as well. He called Laney more rarely than either Gloria or Heather, because they’d always had very little in common at the end of the day, but they were still part of a team, and at the end of the day that mattered to both of them.

Clem had been on the watch for the Bureau, but he was only a student, and one unused to politics. The Quiet Branch had always kept an eye on the Academy, and they noticed the way the young combat spec was acting. He broke the arm of one of the agents who came for him, and gave the other a black eye. He woke up in an alleyway with bruised knuckles, and didn’t know why.

Thorne was always watching for people who might hold some sway over any of his prospects, and he had needed a test subject.

~~~

It felt, later, like that flick of a switch had set it all in motion - as though when one of Thorne’s plan’s unraveled they all did.

Jillit Chu turned up on their doorstep, grimly relieved and determined to finish what she’d started. Rupert welcomed her gratefully, and she eyed the impassive Seeress the way she had in the hidden lab. Some things had changed with the flick of a switch, but the weight of those years failing to save the Seeress’ victims hadn’t. Cassandra looked coolly back, and pretended that she wasn’t reeling herself, that the ground below her feet was still the steady ground of what we do is right.

In this world, there was no squeaky sage sharing a room with his big sister to make Wren hesitate. She slipped into the Seeress’s room with a knife to hold a blade to the throat of a monster. Cassandra hissed all the bile she could, every weakness she could see spiraling around them, and Wren’s smile was colder than anything the Seeress had ever managed. She left Cassandra alive, because this wasn’t about revenge, about paying in blood for what the Seeress had wrought. This was a shaking woman proving that she could face down her monsters, that her nightmares had no hold over her. That she could choose to let the Seeress live because it wasn’t worth killing her, because the Seeress was just a young woman who couldn’t harm her again.

She left Cassandra alive, and Sandry shook through the night. Many people had cursed the Seeress’s name over the years, hissed threats, but few had ever gotten close enough to lay hands on her. She remembered making hot cocoa for her brother after bad dreams, remembered telling him he wasn’t allowed to be afraid like that would be enough to keep him safe.

Thorne went after Bea, after Bidi, and Laney ran for the mountains with Rupert on one side of her and Clem at her heels - it took only minutes to port through, but the dragons were quicker even than even that. Bidi had screamed for help, and they had answered. Clem spent an hour in delighted conversation with them via Bidi, scholarly glee and childish enthusiasm, while Laney did her best to comfort Bea for the loss of her home while her daughter was distracted. Once Bidi was asleep, Clem helped Laney dig out the remains of the attackers from the bakery rubble and bury them so that Bea wouldn’t have to - he also collected what scraps of identifying possessions he could find, tucking them carefully in a pocket in case there was someone who would want them back.

They returned to Rivertown exhausted, and woke to a renewed assault, Thorne’s death twisted to a rallying point. Shay cursed her mentor’s shining recruit, wanted to shriek why - but if she questioned his decisions, she did it so quietly even she wasn’t aware. She scowled at maps and reports, tried to pretend her steps weren’t haunted by her losses. She told herself her decisions were rational, that her choices had always been hers even if she didn’t remember making them.

The Bureau managed to splinter their golden wall, and as Laney moved to repair it Cassandra slipped from the shadows to dart through the crack in their defences. Laney watched her step through, and thought about how laughably easy it would be to put a bullet in her back, for all that her hands trembled with old wounds. Liam had fallen for the last time rescuing those who would have been burned to nothing in the rooms below this girl’s home. Mages had been fleeing the mountains for years because of the things this young woman saw.

Laney closed her hand around the grip of her favourite pistol, and handed it over through the shimmering curtain. She wanted to say so many things - I do not forgive you, I could kill you but it wouldn’t be enough, so what would be the point? I hate you but you gave us our friend back, so here you go, a life for a life. I will live all my life hating you, but I will not be haunted by you. She said none of it, because if she tried she would break. Cass saw it in the swirls of gold around her, and gave her a grudgingly respectful nod. When Laney looked up from closing the gap she was gone, slipping away through the streets of Rivertown like a ghost.

It was Laney who strode into the negotiation room when Shay called for a truce, because she had the Quiet Branch’s respect even if she didn’t have their affection, and Sez trusted her to fight for the right things, these days, despite the Academy badge. She had Sez and Sally’s long thought out demands, their plans, her own hard won lessons and Rupert’s deliberate morality - and she had a secret waiting on the tip of her tongue.

In the dark of a hidden lab, Cass had whispered stories, clinical and aching, not sure if she wanted sympathy or just a reaction, and Rupert had passed them on. Shay snapped accusations, dismissals, grief - and Laney she remembered sunlight, warm on the back of her chair on a long ago day when Rupert told her the truth and broke her heart. She took a sniper’s steadying breath, and looked Shay in the eye.

“Do you know how Spider died?”

Falling is the bravest thing I know, Laney whispered at the funerals, at graves old and new, in the doorway of a cottage where an old woman wept like broken glass with old, delayed grief as Jill held her frail hands and Rupert hovered, stuffy with sympathy. She had broken like that, once, something jagged sitting under her heart that she wasn’t sure would ever go away even if the edges could be smoothed over time. Liam had fallen, hit the mountain stone and not gotten up, but the impact had shattered Laney too.

I will be brave, she whispered to herself, and Rupert squeezed her hand gently as she got to her feet. The desert sand shifted under her boots and she stood firm, bracing herself to deliver a blow she had never stopped reeling from. She watched the expressions around the fire twist, grief and mourning, bittersweet stories, and thought about the ripples that had spread from every fall in this fight. She would try to map it out, on sleepless nights - the way strangers whispered her brother’s name and murmured about the Dragon Slayer and the Giantkiller, the steady promises of the mountain folk: we can’t let their memories down. Laney wondered if they’d known how they would shake the world when they fell, but they weren’t the only ones.

Spider must have known that Thorne wouldn’t let betrayal live, but he’d taken the shot and hit the polished floor because he refused to watch more children burn for the sake of another man’s ambition. Bea had woken in a cold house, twice over, and hauled herself back to standing because she refused to let the monsters win, kept a map of every victory, every loss, every bitter step of her quiet war. Jill had gritted her teeth after every failure, every fading patient a new reason to keep trying no matter the weight on her shoulders.

Rosie and Susie had built Challenge from the wreckage of their home, an old mining village digging deep and refusing to be driven away, turning every broken family and nightmare into a rallying cry. Maid Marian had put her back to the mountains and walked away, the memory of smoke and snow on her heels until she forged something new in the back streets of St. John’s Port, had dared to invest her broken heart in a new set of faces and carve out support for the people the Bureau didn’t care about.

Rupert had been buried in the rubble of a cave in, been dragged out and lost months to Thorne’s secrets, taught himself to wear a civilian sweater like a uniform while they scrambled to find him, had stumbled through the door of the fish shop and been the spark that Sez turned into a beacon. So many people had come to the defence of Rivertown, against fire demons and Bureau soldiers, names Laney had known over Academy tables and ones she hadn’t, and some of them hadn’t gotten the chance to deal with the aftermath.

Laney had hit the plush carpet of the Mayor’s office, every limb burning, and pushed herself as close to standing as she could get and taken her best shot. She was long, aching years from the time when bravery meant bruised knees and scraped palms, dragging herself inch by stubborn inch up the tallest palm tree, meant letting herself fail a hundred times to learn to do it right.

Sometimes the bravest thing is falling, letting yourself try and knowing you might not succeed, that you might hit the ground hard enough to bruise, pushing yourself back up after to try again.

Sometimes it’s to keep breathing - to put one stumbling foot in front of the other until it feels like you’re filling your lungs with air not choking on ash.

I will be brave, Laney said, and breathed in.

#Leagues and Legends #my writing #L&L fic #It's another all the mountain vigilantes die series rewrite folks!#Laney sort of took this one over and I'm okay with that

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thecleverdame · 4 years

Text

Gods of Twilight - 18

Alpha!Werewolf!Sam x Human!Reader

Master List (posting schedule is there as well)

Summary: You marry Sam, The King of Lebanon, as part of an alliance between two lands. You soon discover that nothing is as it appears and that your husband is hiding a secret that may end your relationship before it can begin.

Warnings: smut, dub-con, canon-level violence, domestic discipline, spanking. This chapter does contain some non-con elements.

Beta: @ilikaicalie

*This story is complete. All 27 chapters are available on Patreon. To get access to this and many other stories, subscribe for a pledge of 2.50 per month. CLICK HERE

Sam stands behind you with arms crossed over his chest, watching the midwife examine your bulging belly.

“You’re larger than I would expect for seven months,” she states evenly, feeling the underside of your stomach through your nightgown. “Are you in any discomfort?”

“No, I feel strong. Energized.”

“And you’ve been sleeping well?”

“I’ve slept better these last 2 months than ever before. My only complaint is how hard he kicks now. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to make it through another two months if he’s going to grow stronger.”

“I’m afraid that’s part of motherhood.” Martha smiles.

“Show her,” Sam nods, his jaw locked.

He’s constantly worried about you. If it’s not an outside threat from some vengeful townsperson, it’s your health and this child.

Sighing, you lift your gown to show her your ribs. She does a double-take, looking at you in silent question and inching closer. There are black and blue marks up and down both sides of your stomach.

“This is the child?” she gasps, directing her question towards Sam.

“She’s in pain. It’s worse in the evenings,” he explains, running a hand over his mouth. “You should feel how hard he kicks, it’s unfathomable. I’m concerned he’ll break her ribs.”

“It’s that painful?” she asks you.

“Only during the night, and it’s never for too long.” You force optimism. One of you has to see the sunny side of things. “He gives me some relief during the day.”

Martha chews on her lower lip. She thinks hard and then stands up straight, pausing before speaking directly to Sam.

“I've lived here all my life, my king. I was born into service, just as my mother. I am loyal. I see the things that go on here, strange things. If there is something I should know, secrets you’ve hesitated to tell me for fear of gossip, I would encourage you to tell me now. We both want the same thing, to deliver a healthy child and keep your wife alive and thriving. In order to do that I need full information.”

Looking back at Sam you wait for his refusal, but instead he smashes his lips together as he contemplates her request.

“You can never tell another living soul,” he instructs.

“Of course, my king.”

“And if you do, you’ll die as the penalty.”

You look down at your hands, wishing desperately that you weren’t privy to this kind of ultimatum. It’s not often you see or hear this side of him and it’s unsettling to hear him whisper death threats in the confines of your bedroom.

“I understand,” Martha confirms without pause. “Now tell me everything.”

She sits and listens, calm and collected, as Sam explains about wolves and shifters. He offers all the details, explains how he came to be. And how this process usually works. She doesn’t bat an eye. On the contrary, she’s taking mental notes. Asking well thought out questions.

She doesn’t appear to be the least bit surprised.

“Is there anyone from your...” she struggles for the right word.

“Pack,” Sam helps her.

“Is there anyone from your pack that delivers the children? Is there a midwife?”

“Yes,” Sam nods, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he looks from Martha to you.

“Then we should call her here to have a look at your wife. With our combined skills, we’ll have a better chance of accurately predicting what’s to come.”

“They’re unhappy that I’ve chosen to have a child with a woman who isn’t like the rest of the pack. I don’t trust anyone, other than you.”

Martha sighs, then nods. She could push the matter but she won’t. She knows her place and it's obvious how much he cares for you. If he thought it was a viable possibility he would have explored it already.

“I’ll be just fine,” you smile at your husband. “I’m strong and so is our baby. We’re both going to be just fine.”

10 Weeks Later

“Are you sure about this?” Martha asks. In these last weeks, she’s become your constant companion.

The carriage rocks side to side as you slowly ride toward the walls of the city.

“I need to walk. I need fresh air.” You close your eyes in concentration as the cramp in your back flares up. The pains are constant now. It’s not the child, or rather it’s not anything he’s doing. He’s simply large and active, and your body is having trouble dealing with the weight.

You begged Sam for a week. Pleaded with him to let you outside. Your muscles and hips ache and walking is the only activity that offers any relief at all. You’ve been around the halls of the castle so many times that it’s depressing to even think about being inside for another moment.

After several rounds of tears, he finally agreed to a brief outing.

The child will come any day now and Martha helped affirm his decision by suggesting that a brisk walk could be exactly what you needed to get the process moving.

Now you’re bound for the fields just outside of the city’s wall, accompanied by not only the King, but a dozen knights as well.

When the carriage finally stops, Sam helps you out into the sunlight of the early afternoon. There’s a chill in the air, but you’re plenty warm. You’ve grown thicker in these last months, eating more and more to satisfy your child’s constant hunger.

“Where would you like to walk?” Sam asks. His eyes are on the horizon. He’s always watching, looking for some invisible threat.

“There, closer to the trees.” You point across the field and Sam does the same as several knights trot ahead to ensure safe passage. Sam takes your arm and you walk, or a more appropriate term would be waddle, toward the lush pines.

You’re not fooled. There are things he’s not telling you, threats he keeps from you in the name of love. He doesn’t want to worry you, but in fact, his lack of forthrightness sends your mind reeling with the possibilities.

“Let me know if you grow tired and we’ll rest.”

“I’ve only been walking for a minute. I’m not impaired, I just move more slowly than I used to.”

“I’m surprised you want to be out here moving around at all.”

“It feels good. The pain goes away when I walk. I think he’s giving me this extra energy.” You smile upward, letting the sun wash over your face. “After he’s born will you take me riding? I long to be outside.”

“We’ll see,” Sam meanders at a snail's pace beside you. “You’re not too cold, are you? I can have Martha bring a cloak-”

“Stop,” you whine, looking to him. “Stop fussing over me and let me be. I want to walk in the country with my husband. It doesn’t have to become such a production.”

“I am only trying to do what’s best,” he counters and your heart sinks.

“I know, and I love you for it.” You pull yourself closer to him, leaning into his side as you walk. “I also wish for you to take me fishing. And star gazing on a summer night.”

“I had no idea you'd come up with such an extensive list.” He grins, his hand cupping your shoulder.

“Oh, that’s not all. I would like to travel. See faraway places, explore other kingdoms. Take our son to see the world. But I’ll start with an evening beneath the stars.”

“I will give you the moon itself once it’s safe. You’ll be free to roam far and wide.”

While your confines have worn your patience, your marriage has only grown stronger. There is genuine love and appreciation for each other. You have found a love that you never dreamed existed outside of your books. Despite his many great responsibilities, Sam finds a way to put you first, to make time for quiet moments together.

It’s what made the seclusion of this pregnancy bearable.

A lone rider approaches in the distance. Sam spots the horseman first, putting his hand out to stop you, but retracts it just as quickly. He must recognize whoever it is. As the rider comes closer you can make out the form of a petite woman with raven hair… Ruby.

“My king,” she’s breathless as she dismounts. “There’s been an attack to the north. Robert and Benjamin have been killed. Your brother was hurt but he’s alive. The men are coming together now in the Eastern Woods.”

“I have to go.” Sam shakes his head, turning to you, then back to Ruby. “Stay with my wife. Ensure that she gets to safety and then join us.”

“I will,” Ruby confirms, handing off the reins to Sam who mounts the steed.

“Be careful!” you call out, watching him ride away.

Ruby stands before you, examining your new appearance. Not many people have seen you since your belly began to grow. Her mouth goes tight, forcing a painful smile.

“You look as if you may pop at any moment.” She looks away, as if the sight of you makes her ill. “Come along, I need to get you to the carriage.”

She takes you by the arm, guiding you back toward the transport and Martha and Phillip are beside you in an instant.

“We need to move fast, my queen. There could be another attack planned.”

As if on cue, a dozen men on horseback burst from the tree line. The thundering hooves make the ground shake as they approach.

“Run!” Ruby grabs one hand and Martha the other, pulling you along as fast as your legs will carry you. As the riders close in, the Knights surrounded you in defense and Phillip plucks you off your feet and carries you in a sprint.

You’re halfway there when someone calls out a warning. Phillip is hit from behind and goes tumbling to the ground. You land underneath him, crushed by his weight as you wriggle free only to be met with the face of your assailant. He’s a hideous man with oily hair and yellowing teeth. He growls at you, smiling with a sickening grin as he brings a short knife down into your side.

You scream, clutching the wound as blood pours over your fingers. He’s coming back for a second stab as Ruby lurches toward him with a giant, jagged dagger in her hand. She rams it upward under his jaw and the blade cuts through blood and bone like a knife through butter. The instant she withdraws the knife, his lifeless body drops to the ground.

“Get up!” Martha is lifting you off the ground in some amazing feat of strength.

The two of you stumble thirty paces before a man charges with an ax raised in the air but Phillip gets to him before he can reach you. You scramble back toward the carriage, tripping over your own feet and falling to the ground.

Martha and Ruby manage to drag you inside the carriage and the instant the doors shut, you’re bound for the castle.

“He stabbed me!” You cry out in panic, frantically feeling your belly. “Did he kill my baby?”

Martha tries to find the wound, unable to examine it through your dress, but Ruby is already in motion. With a truly superhuman strength she tears your dress at the seams, then the layers underneath, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Your breasts and belly are coated in bright red blood, a sight that sends your heart into your throat.

“Please, don’t let anything happen to-”

“Calm down!” Martha yells, grabbing your jaw, forcing you to focus on her. “Stop, take a breath and calm down. You need to remain composed to prevent any further trauma.”

Martha and Ruby examine the stab wound, Ruby using the skirts of her dress to wipe the excess blood away.

“The knife caught you between the ribs,” Ruby explains, grabbing your hand with blood wet fingers. “Not your stomach.”

“You’re going to be just fine,” Martha soothes the hair back from your forehead as you lie between them on the floor of the coach.

A quick, tightening of your stomach takes your breath away. And then the pain comes and a wet sensation at your sex. You reach down, pulling up your dress and feeling between your own legs. When you withdraw your hand there’s nothing but more blood.

“He’s coming,” you gasp, looking at the blood on your palm. “I’m not ready.”

“Yes, you are my dear.” Martha pats your hand, then leans out the window and hollers to Phillip. “We need to move faster!”

“Where is Sam?” you plead. “I need him.”

“One of the knights will have gone to find him,” Ruby assures you. “He’ll come as soon as he hears you were injured.”

“What if they attack him?”

“He is the strongest of all of us and his men will protect him at all costs.”

The pain comes in waves, like the cramps from your monthly bleeding only so strong that it feels as if your stomach is tearing. You cry out as the carriage flees back toward the castle, feeling each bump along the way.

Phillip carries you up to your chambers, laying you on the bed as a swirl of activity bursts to life around you. The room is full of handmaids with Martha barking orders at all.

Time becomes a series of intervals between the pain of contractions. And they are coming closer and closer together.

It feels like hours before you hear Sam’s voice in the hall. Martha gets up and you listen to a muted conversation. He yells something and then there’s Dean voice, just as angry.

“Y/N?” You hear your husband’s voice, growing closer.

“Sam?” You reach out for him and his familiar hand takes yours. You sob in relief at the confirmation he’s alive and he won’t leave until this is over.

“I’m here,” his voice is close, as he leans down to talk to you.

“It’s not going very well,” you laugh, trembling as a feverish heat consumes you.

“You’re perfect,” his voice cracks. He clears his throat before continuing. “Martha assures me everything is going to be just fine.”

“Don’t lie to me.” His hand tightens around yours.

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

“It’s time,” you gulp, sweat rolling in beads down your forehead. The pain swells, a mighty crest that’s worse and more intense than everything that came before and your body begins to try to push the baby out.

“Push, just like we practiced.” Martha settles between your legs.

Bearing down, you push with all your might, feeling a second of relief before the contraction ebbs. Then the agony picks back up and you push again, something giving way and the child moves. It happens fast, one second you’re in unbearable torment and then all the pain stops and the baby leaves your body in a life-changing instant.

The room is silent. You wait for the squeal of your son, but there’s nothing. Sam’s hand is clamping over yours so tight he might break it.

“Is he alive?” you rasp, trying in vain to prop yourself up. You look up at Sam’s eyes, there are tears in each corner. “Is he alive?!”

“She is very much alive,” Martha appears above you with a wiggling little baby in her arms. “You have a daughter.”

You laugh, an exhausted chuckle and reach out for your child. Martha places her on your chest before exchanging a weighted look with your husband.

She’s a perfect, chubby girl with bright green eyes and a head of dark hair that is surely from her father. You cry freely, studying her face and gently touch her round, flushed cheeks.

“We have a daughter. I can’t believe it. Sam, look how beautiful she is.” You look up at Sam who’s breathing fast, his throat bobbing at the sight of you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he wavers. “I-I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You focus back on your baby, trying to think what you’ll name her. You were so sure she’d be a boy.

“Give us the room.” Sam wipes at his eyes.

Sam is most handsome when he’s happy, beautiful when his heart is full. He should be elated, but right now he looks as if he's been shot with an arrow. You watch everyone leave, except Martha who comes to sit on the opposite side of your husband.

“What’s happening?” The fear is creeping in as you look from her to Sam, cradling the baby resting on your chest.

“Shhh,” Sam strokes your hair, lowering down onto his side. “Just lie here with me and hold our daughter.”

In these last months, Martha subdued nearly all your fears. You’d heard horror stories of women in unbearable pain and were frightened of feeling yourself tear when giving birth. But she assured you, time and time again, that because there is such intense pressure during labor you wouldn’t be able to feel anything that happened.

As you lie in the bed, it dawns on you that you still can’t feel anything below your waist. You try to wiggle your toes but there’s no sensation. You look down at your naked body. While you can’t see much there’s a clear slick of red between your thighs, soaking the bed.

You’re still bleeding, bleeding too much.

“What's happening to me?” you whisper, kissing the tiny fingers of your sweet girl.

“It’s not important. Just enjoy this time together. That’s all that matters.” Martha says.

“I’m right here with you.” Sam nuzzles his forehead against your cheek, snuggling closer to you and his child. He’s crying.

You don’t want to ask. Don’t want the confirmation, but you need to know. You’re not long for this world.

“How much time do I have?”

“It won’t be long now.” Martha turns away, swallowing her emotion and getting up off the bed. “I’ll be in the hall when you need me.”

There’s a faint wispy fizzing in the back of your brain and a profound coldness rising up from your belly into your chest.

“I’m not ready to leave you,” you whisper. Words are becoming harder, your tongue thick and heavy.

“I know, my love.” Sam wraps his arm around you over your ribs. “I’m not either.”

“I’m scared, and I want to...stay here with...you two.” The words come slowly. “I’m...so...tired…”

“Close your eyes and go to sleep. There’s nothing to be scared of, we’re here with you. We love you.”

You don’t want to close your eyes, but Sam’s body is warm and comforting around you. The baby on your chest is cooing, a little mouth eager to find a breast. This must be what heaven will be like. Maybe you’re already there.

There’s a fleeting thought, a hope that you’ll stay with them always, and they with you. Your heart simultaneously swells and breaks as the life that could have been flashes before your eyes. This time was short but happy and as the end comes all you feel is the enveloping warmth of love holding you tight.

Surrounded by your husband and daughter you take a final breath and close your eyes.

#alpha!sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction

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albatris · 4 years

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Hello hope you're well on this Saturday may I ask what the deepest fears of each of the ATDAO cast members is, thank you and goodnight

oh you’re just gonna dive right in with the hard-hitting questions I see

thank you for the ask!!

under the cut because rambles, of course, I literally do not know how to be concise I’m so sorry, you probably already knew this was coming HAHAHA

Tris’s deepest fear aside from Literally Everything In The Universe would be uhhhhh....... being somehow responsible for harm coming to the people he cares about? either directly or indirectly. I think on a big scale the whole concept of the butterfly effect stresses him out hahaha. on a small scale, he spends a lot of time stressing about his friends and family, he has a lot of intrusive thoughts about what horrible things could potentially happen to them, he worries about accidentally hurting them, etc. etc.

n I haven’t really talked in depth all that much about the specifics of Tris’s psychosis, but there’s definitely aspects of it that become pretty intense and aggressive in terms of commands and orders and “some terrible and/or violent thing will happen to your friend / sister / neighbour if you don’t do this thing”, lots of prickly parts of it that like to make threats to his safety and the safety of the people around him if he attempts to ignore or resist them. so even on good days he’s got this constant background-hum anxiety that if he chooses to disobey something or if he misinterprets a sign or if he steps out of line, his loved ones are going to be punished for it, which is just.............. a lot

a fear of helplessness and a lack of control also factors into it, like, ever since he was very very very small he’s had this idea ingrained that you can do literally everything right and the universe can still squash you like a bug at any second, n he had absolutely no way to even begin processing that in a healthy way so it just manifested in the fact that he pretty much only ever feels safe when he’s accounted for every tiny detail and is following very specific routines and has left as little room as possible for anything unexpected to catch him off guard. he’s got these rules and systems and rituals he clings to ‘cause they offer him some illusion of safety and control even though they kind of........ won’t actually do anything to stop the universe fucking his shit up

Noa’s is................. I’m not sure if “being left behind” really covers it

if we’re talking in a real broad big scale sense, I think it’s a fear of being forgotten or brushed over or not being seen, or more, people refusing to see her? it’s a fear of, like, fighting her hardest to make noise and be seen and the world just completely and utterly turning its back on her. she’s spent a whole lot of her life trying to carve out a space for herself and make her voice heard, n between illness and financial difficulties and a piece of shit dad, she and her mum have struggled to stay afloat in systems that have just consistently, consistently failed them and whose best advice is “just try harder” and “we can’t help you if you don’t help yourself”

and, like, Noa’s very full of rage about it and has made some restless peace with the fact that she has to look out for herself and the people she cares about, because no one in any position of power is gonna throw them a stick, but it’s not something she’s comfortable with and it’s a horribly alienating and frightening experience

n I guess a fear of being left behind does play out on an interpersonal level too, though it’s not really in the same vein as the other stuff? I’ve talked a lot in the past about how she’s resistant to people getting close to her ‘cause she’s got a lot of paranoia and fear and doesn’t wanna be vulnerable, but there’s also just............ a whole lot of impostor syndrome in the friendships she already has, she’s always on some level convinced that she’s somehow tricked people into liking her and one day they’re gonna wake up and realise she’s not all that special or that nice or that fun to be around. I don’t think she really views herself as someone who’s allowed to be loved just for who she is, or that “who she is” is someone who already has value or anything to bring to the table in terms of friendship

Shara’s deepest fear is the idea that there really is Absolutely No Meaning To Any Of This

that the universe is all just chaos with no purpose and no direction, that there are no bigger forces at play, that there’s nothing good and right and loving at the centre of it all, that it’s all just chance and machinery and completely unfeeling

I think one of the main ways she processes the world and is able to feel safe given the collapsing nature of reality is her desperate and adamant belief that There Has To Be An Answer, that it’s all something that can be untangled and solved, and that if she can manage to figure it out then she’ll be able to make some peace with it and things will make sense again

there’s a lot of stuff from her past that she has no real closure for, particularly the loss of one of her close childhood friends as a result of some unfortunate interdimensional fuckery, and she’s still trying to sort out her feelings about it and find a way to live her life in relation to it, she’s still trying to find a way that something so cruel can make sense

Kai has............................ a lot of fear. many many fear. I will not talk about all of it. I will talk about two of it

one of the main ones is this idea that the only reason they try so hard to care so much and help people and have a positive impact on the people around them is because deep down they don’t actually care at all, that they’ve kind of just fooled everyone into thinking they’re a good person when in reality they’re the worst, they’re a liar and a fraud

which is just kind of......... I mean, they’re not really someone who’s ever considered their own mental health at length so they haven’t really got any point of reference for what’s happening to them post-time-loop, which is basically just. panic attacks, dissociative episodes, blacking out for days at a time, not recognising themself in the mirror, feeling completely numb, not even fully convinced that this is even real life. all very understandable reactions to what they’ve just been through

but definitely the thing that hits them the hardest is the fact that they can look at the people they’re supposed to love and care about and just not feel anything at all, which fuckin terrifies them. they spend a lot of time in crisis about it, feeling like they’re an actor trying to play the part of their own life, they’re doing what they think they’re supposed to but they’re just completely disconnected

(they eventually open up to Noa about it in a full breakdown and are like “I’m a terrible person” and she’s just like “you’re traumatised you fucking dumbass let’s get you some therapy”)

and on equal footing to this and one that deserves a mention is the fact that they’ve been psyching themself up to Go Back Home for the past year and then psyching themself out again, repeat x infinity. A Lot Fucking Changed in the years Kai was gone, and their family had a funeral for them and mourned them and had to deal with all the grief and the fallout of losing their sibling / child / family member and their mum broke down in a real bad way and they’ve all spent the past seven years trying to claw their way back to anything resembling a normal life

and Kai is kinda A) unsure whether it would be selfish of them to try and re-enter their lives now, whether it would be disruptive and confusing and more pain than it’s worth given how much work they’ve put into trying to move on and create a new normal and B) fucking terrified that they won’t even know these people anymore because they’ve all changed so much and Kai hasn’t, they’re not going to fit here or be welcome anymore, and that no matter how much they try to return to normal they’re never going to have a home again

and that is just

kind of a :( note to end on but here we are, at the end

thanks for coming to my ted talk?

!!! thank u for reading if you read this far in my rambling please have an excellent night

#i was gonna do marrick and jacob too but i feel like this got too long already HAHAHA #i've talked about jacob's fear once before i think #and marrick. well. that's a post and a half #probably a post i should make at some point!#but not right now maybe #anyway this was. hm. a lot #also since i know in my atdao posts i talk a lot about these themes of like #''uncaring cosmic machinery''#i wanna emphasise that the message of this book is absolutely not ''the universe does not care about you''#whether or not the universe cares is up for debate and i'm not gonna go into it #i have no comment on the universe one way or another beyond #there's meaning in the lives we create for ourselves and there's meaning #in the meanings we give each other #love and connection and hope can be the good at the centre of it all #basically the entire moral of atdao comes down to #THERE IS LOVE AT THE CENTRE OF EVERYTHING #which is valid of me i think #tracle0

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priorireverte · 3 years

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Congratulations Snapey!

Your application for Severus Snape has been accepted. I really love how much depth and thought you put in to how his history and life shaped him in to the man he was when he died. I am so excited to see how he’ll be shaped by his untimely un-demise. If he ever gets past the initial panic and doomandgloom.

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME & PRONOUNS: Snapey, He/Him

TIMEZONE:GMT

ACTIVITY LEVEL: Probably 2 paras a week with occassional explosions of activity flooding the dash

ANYTHING ELSE: Got a looooot of experience. Lots. Also my Snape is both a bad person and a good person because I read the books. I don’t know if this is the place for it, but Severus, being a product of the 1970s has a lot of internalised homophobia, and while, I, Snapey, like to think I’m pretty up to date on prejudice and privilege, this grumpy old turd isn’t. If I post something that’s ruining your ability to enjoy the RP even if it isn’t in the triggers list, or you’re not in the thread, let me know. I never want fun to become work.

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Severus Snape

BIRTHDATE: January 9, 1960

DEATHDATE: May 2, 1998

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Male, he/him, probably heteroromantic, definitely bisexual but low self image, so get past that, suitors. He is comfortably male despite his more feminine aspects.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Slytherin

OCCUPATION: Returned

FACECLAIM: Adrien Brody/ Louis Garrel, either works, got plenty of age appropriate gifs. Got more sneers for LG tho :D

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

POSTBELLUM:

At first Severus thought that what he was experiencing was the effects of a brain starved of blood and oxygen, combined with hypovolemic shock. Nothing made sense, but that was all well and good when he thought the world around him was a delusion. His behaviour at first was unusual, almost excitable. Every night he went to sleep, sure that this would be the time he never awoke and finally his consciousness would fade into the ether. Morning always came. And oddly, his dying neurons never provided an image of either of the two wizards he had served for more than half his life….nor did they show him the boy he’d made it his life’s work to protect in anything but scraps of conversation and images on newspapers. All in all the delusion was a strange one but it had to be false…didn’t it?

It started to become clear to him that this was not the case, and he was neither awaiting trial for his crimes nor being nursed back to health- the wound that should have been on his neck was not even visible, though sometimes he was sure he almost felt the sharp stab of Nagini’s fangs into his throat. Finally, he realised his position, and the old guarded Severus returned.

PERSONALITY:

Severus’s personality appears to many to be a mystery. Equal parts anger and sadness, all held tight behind a number of walls. Deeply traumatised by the events of his childhood and youth, Severus hides a great deal, afraid to show too much of any emotion, lest it be considered weakness. The only emotion he allows himself to experience around others is anger, since his upbringing has told him it is the only feeling a man is allowed to have. Rage makes him feel for a moment to be powerful.

Severus is quintessentially Slytherin, despite what the late Albus Dumbledore may have implied with his heinous ‘sort too soon’ comment. Resourceful, practical, and driven, Severus has the makings of a great wizard. If only he had got his name into the history books for something else.

His strengths lie in logic, creativity, and problem solving, but he takes them too far at times, seeking to analyse and overanalyse every action. Looking too deeply for too long.

Severus, despite his former jobs as Head of Slytherin, and later, Headmaster, is not a leader. He has never been such, and never will be. He is solitary partially through choice, as he feels it more comfortable than to have to watch his words and wait for whatever fresh hell will be foist upon him.

His interaction with other living things has always been a weakness, be it plants, creatures magical and mundane, or other humans. He does not trust them and they often do not trust him. And considering all that he is….can you blame them?

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Severus’ family comes in three parts.

His home, a muggle father tossed about on the sea of Thatcherism in the industrial north and a pureblood witch for a mother who had greater concerns than the welfare of her son. It was not a happy home, even though it had moments of brightness.

Lily Evans, his best friend during childhood and a lamplight in the dark of the almost slums of Cokeworth. Her effects on his character and personhood were immeasurable.

Lastly, the Death Eaters, and specifically those he was at school with. As a boy with nowhere to belong, caught between the bright academia of Hogwarts and the dingy grime of Cokeworth summers, the Death Eaters offered him something he had long craved. A disenfranchised, talented youth, he lapped up their promises and made one of the defining choices, and mistakes of his life.

HISTORY

Poor, working-class, neglected, too smart for his own good. Severus had the deck stacked against him at an early age. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, as the cliche goes, Severus succeeded monumentally in the Wixen world. A star Potioneer, an expert in the Dark Arts, an occumplished Occlumens. But those would be victories hard won, working twice as hard as his housemates, for scant praise.

While his childhood was grim, there was some hope, borne by Lily Evans. The girl was bright and vibrant and importantly, a witch. Severus did not know tthe manner of her importance on his future only that he was sure she would be a part of it.

The first stumbling block to their friendship was their Sorting, but even that did not yet spell doom. They still spent plenty of time together, exploring spellcraft and potions, though Severus’ interest was always very practical and with a Darker bent to it. Their housemates however, had different opinions. While Lucius Malfoy’s favour protected him for his first two years from much of the open Blood purity rhetoric by which point he had proved his worth to his housemates, it was always there in the periphery, and the poison dripped slowly into his ear, along with the promises of power and whispers of a world where he never had to deal with muggles like Petunia and his father.

Come his fifth year, in the dead of winter, his distrust for authority, bolstered by the lack of interference from his teachers into the campaign of bullying he had endured, hit a new peak. Not only had his terrorisers attempted to kill him (Severus surprisingly believed better of Sirius Black than to use an ignorant friend as a murder weapon- and worse of James Potter, sure that the other boy had only come along because of the consequences it would have on Remus Lupin’s continued freedom), but there was to be no speaking of the incident and certainly no real material punishment. Add in the stress of standardised testing and the pressure to prove himself every bit the wizard his mother’s blood made him, and once summer rolled around and the sun and blood was high, he lashed out at his stalwart friend, ending a seven year friendship in an instant.

He tried to make amends at first, but pushed away, sought some small comfort in the bosom of brotherhood. And soon enough he was standing shoulder to shoulder with them in a war. As time passed and he began to realise that the aims of this organisation, and more importantly, the methods, were not only distasteful but in direct opposition to those morals he still held, his loyalty began to waver. And once again, a push in the form of an overheard prophecy and Severus found himself knelt at Albus Dumbledore’s feet on a windy November night begging for mercy. For himself, but more importantly for his old friend, no faith in the man who had been his master.

And so began the cat and mouse game, where Severus was always the mouse, tossed between two cats, two masters. Adding to the stress of being a teacher barely older than his oldest students was the constant threat, the fear of discovery, and of the sword hanging above the Potter’s heads.

When news of the Halloween attack on Godric’s Hollow reached him, the bottom fell out of his stomach. He felt -and not for the first time- that perhaps his death at Remus Lupin’s hands in the Shrieking Shack at 15 had been fated, and it was this divertion from the tapestry woven for him that had lead to so much anguish. Certainly he felt like a dead man walking then. And all the worse for knowing that the real target of the attack had survived. It was in an attempt to make amends that he put his life into Dumbledore’s hands. He clung to the last shred of Lily inside himself and out.

Harry Potter- the boy who would occupy many of his waking moments. Even before the boy came to Hogwarts, before seeing the cocky, miniature James Potter sitting in his class, glaring at him with Lily’s eyes, Severus lay awake many nights wondering how the boy would turn out. He hoped, of course, for more of Lily. More of that bright, almost holy, goodness. Time and distance had toyed with his memories somewhat, so when he recalled Lily, he no longer thought of the arguments, or the paranoid way he had viewed her friends, or even his anger at her. A resigned grief and loss was what he felt. But Severus had never had the easy way of things, so when fateful 1991 rolled around, while he knew he was in for seven long years, he could never have predicted how long and how hard they would be.

Firstly, the boy had neither of his parent’s genius. He was lazy with his work and only too eager to play silly quidditch games, putting himself at risk and Severus into mild heart palpitations. Not only did he have to continue to worry about the safety record of his potions class, but watch an ever worsening parade of Defence against the Dark Arts teachers, and a worrying resurgence of the old ways in the Slytherin common room. He tried his best to be the teacher he had never had, but in loco parentis meant something different from his perspective, and he was a stern taskmaster. His colleagues, those he should have been able to bond with at least a little were all older than him, and somehow less mature. They were frivolous in many ways he could not afford to be, they seemed to have no idea of the depths to which mankind could sink, and they doted on Potter.

Three years and multiple apoplectic rages later, terror re-entered Severus’ life. A growing itch on his arm, a darkening Mark until at last, the thing Dumbledore had somehow known would come, came. The Dark Lord returned. And so did Severus. Now he was older, and less susceptible to the Dark Lord’s flattery and promises, but the knife’s edge he walked grew ever sharper the more he ingratiated himself into the Dark Lord’s graces, no longer part of what had once been akin to a family.

And so the Order was resurrected, but he didn’t belong there either, and no-one let him forget it. Nevermind that he was now not only supposed to teach the boy Potions-which he had no skill in- but also Occlumency -which he was even worse at. As the year grew darker, with an ever more invasive ministry presence, and an ever more combative pupil, he found himself removing more and more memories, reliving them each time he returned them to the cramped tense space in his mind. He could feel all he had worked so hard for crumbling beneath him; he was losing his Slytherins to a side he dare not tell them the cruel truth of, the boy he had promised to protect was increasingly reckless, and under it all, like a viper hiding in the long grass, was the very real threat of the rising Dark Lord.

When at long last, the Headmaster aquiesced to what had now become his yearly routine of applying for the Dark Arts post, he knew that a monumental shift in the balance was coming. And he was not wrong. Not only was he to protect Potter, but Draco Malfoy. He was now a trusted lieutenant of the Dark Lord, and almost sole confidant to Headmaster Dumbledore. Severus retreated further into himself, socially and mentally. He knew he did not know all that either wizard had planned, but he knew enough. He knew that he had been used even worse than he had thought. There was no protecting Potter for the memory of those lost, or the hope of those yet living, there was just …maintaining him. Until the time was right. Until the finl chess move, trading one piece for the black King. It ate away at him. Every time he saw Lily’s eyes in that hated face, and knew that the boy must die, had always had to die. And then clever Draco, letting Death Eaters into the school. And first he had to stun Flitwick, in the midst of a growing companionship, if not quite friendship, and then….on the tower…

It probably came as no surprise to his supposed allies that he had betrayed them. And though he now had as sure a position among the Death Eaters as any wixen, was now truly embraced by them. It felt dirty. He felt dirty. Every spell he cast, no matter which side it was for, no matter to what end. It was as if the smog of Cokeworth, kept at bay for so long had finally spread throughout his veins, curled around his nerves, even around his magic.

The office, gifted to him by men he held nothing but disiluusioned distaste for felt colder and lonelier than his self-imposed isolation in the Dungeons had. He had long felt alone, but never had he been so truly alone as when he sat, surrounded by long dead wixen who had held the post before him, in a school that had been more pain than home. But he endured. He had sworn to. It was perhaps the only thing he had left to cling to. And so he did what he could, to lessen the suffering of others, to save them where he could. And the whole year, he knew that should he choose, he could fall back in with the old crowd, could abandon the plans a portrait whispered to him. Could deserve the hate in every glance from old colleagues, every whisper from the students. Could be the traitor they all thought him.

Only stolen glances at a scrap of paper never meant for him and a torn photograph kept him alive those dark days. It was almost a blessing to be ousted from the castle. Almost. The boy was alive, though Severus knew it couldn’t last, mustn’t be allowed to last.

And then came the battle. The grass he had picnicked on torn up and the dirt churned into mud. The loft battlements brought down to rubble. And he couldn’t find Potter to tell him, if he even would have listened. Lucius gave him a summons from the Dark Lord, and unwilling to break cover when there was still a chance to find the boy, he answered it. Back in that dirty old Shack, back where he should have died at 15. And this time, 23 long, hard-fought years later, he did.

And in those final moments, blood and memories pouring from him, all that he was, muggle blood flooding out along with the wixen, left him, but at least, at that last moment, he saw her eyes again, and there was no hate to be found. A small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. He hoped he had done enough.

OOC EXPLORATION:

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? Getting to flex my RP muscles in a seriously challenging environment, exploring a post-war Severus who isn’t free, who isn’t happy, and who has to once more adapt and survive.

ANYTHING ELSE?

The cot creaked as he sat up. Another day in this fresh hell. Only it couldn’t really be hell, because there were others here who didn’t deserve it. He closed his eyes briefly, but only briefly, because while there were safe people here, there were also very unsafe ones.

His hypervigilance, forged as a child, sharpened during his school years and honed to a razor’s edge by his years of spying and supervising children around cauldrons served him well as he made his way towards the canteens, watching as another no-longer dead wixen was dropped off. The Unspeakables still hadn’t let on their plans or what they knew of these Returned.

He waited patiently for some space, knowing he would feel safer with a cup of coffee in his hand, and less irritable to boot. As he poured his cup he turned suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He was being watched. He didn’t know if it was by friend or foe, not that he had many of the former. Severus almost hoped it was the latter. He had too often caught glances thrown his way that held an uncomfortable level of respect.

Of course he wanted that, had always strived to be respected….but this was…not right. He drew his issued robes tighter about himself. The mug felt warm in his hand, and he slowly raised it and took a sip, peering from behind the greasy fringe at his fellow inmates, daring them to meet his gaze.

Show yourself…

#prioriannouncement #prioriacceptance #severus snape #admin.emmy

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hopeandjusticefoundation · 4 years

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HUMAN TRAFFICKING Warning Signs

Do you know someone who has been or is being trafficked? Is human trafficking happening in your community?

Recognition of possible warning signs and knowledge of human trafficking indicators is a key step in protecting more victims and helping them find the assistance they need.

One of the most common forms of enticement of victims by traffickers are proposals and promises of a better life in foreign countries. They are promises of prosperous lives with excellent work and compensation paid in general to people who live a life of great financial difficulty in their country of origin, and to young women who dream of a career as a professional model.

Trafficking victims are often from other countries and they may exhibit behaviors and characteristics typical of trafficked persons. But human trafficking also takes place within the country itself. Victims are trafficked between states and even between cities. The fear of police authorities, for example. Fear is always present in the victim's eyes, gestures, attitudes and speech. The victims go through a cruel process of manipulation for submission to traffickers under threats against the person himself or his family. This causes the victim to protect his dealer and not try to escape.

They show signs of physical and / or psychological trauma such as anxiety, lack of memory of recent events, bruises, untreated injuries. It is common for many of these victims to fail to realize that they have been trafficked. They believe that they have fallen in love with the wrong "person", or that they are just in a bad job. They even think that the "person" who is doing this to them is not so bad. It is only the "way", the "culture" that makes the "person" like that. It is a characteristic behavior of victims who are affected by Stockholm Syndrome (Stockholmssyndromet in Swedish) is the name usually given to a particular psychological state in which a person, subjected to a prolonged period of intimidation, becomes sympathetic and even loving or friendship with your aggressor.

Victims of human trafficking have limited freedom of movement, their right to come and go freely without "supervision" is restricted. He performs “unpaid or insignificantly paid“ work. All your money and documents are retained by "managers". They have no or almost no access to medical care, as doctors and hospitals can report any suspicious situation to the police.

Victims of trafficking are always indebted to someone, as that debt is never paid off. They do not have a passport or the passport is in the possession of a third party. One of the strategies used by human traffickers to divert attention on them and their victims is to always be changing places, areas, cities, states and countries, which makes it very difficult to locate and rescue them.

Human traffickers are expert manipulators, true masters of manipulation, it is not uncommon for them to control their victims through satanic rituals and witchcraft.

Identification of signs of sexual exploitation victims

Homes in residential neighborhoods, motels, resorts, ordinary residential hotels are increasingly being used for prostitution and to keep victims of trafficking for sexual exploitation. In addition to places more traditionally used for these purposes such as brothels, strip clubs, massage parlors, saunas, etc.

People forced into sexual exploitation are transported between these mentioned places and also from city to city, staying “hosted” in them. In these people a limited amount of clothing can be seen, most of which are sensual and provocative clothing, clothing typically worn by prostitutes. These people are forced to use illicit drugs, forced, coerced and intimidated into rendering sexual services and are subjected to kidnapping, assault and rape. They do not travel alone and freely, they pass the money received to a pimp or dealer.

It is common for these victims to be tattooed as "cattle", which they identify as the property of a drug dealer. The best known tattoos are: Bar code, money symbol ($), pimp's name as "John's property" or the name "Daddy".

Identification of victims of forced labor

Where all the work is done under threat, coercion, intimidation and the imposition of a penalty if the person does not do the job well. When the person did not volunteer, he was forced and unable to get out of the situation, as he is kept under arrest or under threat.

If real physical damage or threat is observed with restriction of the right to come and go or confinement. In addition, debt bondage, that is, work to pay off a debt or loan, often the victim receives very little or nothing for services, due to deductions, withholdings or excessive reductions in wages. Also, document retention, passport. Threatened to reveal irregular immigration status to the authorities. Employer is unable to produce the documents necessary to formalize the employment relationship, failing to comply with appropriate health and safety standards. Use of requirements to pay for tools and food, or place of accommodation, deduction of taxes made by the "employer" without any legal basis, wages below the minimum wage, without access to the employment contract, excessive working hours / few breaks are characterized the crime of slave labor, slavery regime and this criminal “employer” must be denounced.

Identifying signs of child sexual abuse and exploitation

Children and adolescents are more vulnerable targets, easier to be reached by predators. For the innocence of the child, for the rebellion and impulsiveness of adolescence, for all the characteristics of vulnerability of these phases, they are the most frequent victims. Predators are aware of the fragility of these targets and feel powerful and dominant towards them, thus developing the most diverse forms of approaches. Such approaches can be quick, violent and fatal, or they can be slow, cunning, sensitive and constant. It is very important to have uninterrupted surveillance by parents and guardians under their children and adolescents.

You can tell when a child or teenager may be being victimized by a predator through many signs. Some of them are: children and teenagers who spend a lot of time away from their parents without knowing where they are and with whom they are, hiding friendships, conversations, creating an atmosphere of secrets and demanding privacy, privacy is slgo for responsible and independent adults, not for children and adolescents.

When the child or adolescent appears constantly with money and / or inexplicable gifts, signs of alcohol or drug use. Older “friends” always ready to help, give, want to please are suspicious attitudes of a likely predator. Receive invitations from older people for activities that do not match the victim's age. Enter or leave vehicles and homes of unknown adults. Evidence of physical and sexual aggression, sexually transmitted diseases, showing signs of low self-esteem, self-harm, eating disorder, aggression, isolation and fears.

Identification of criminal activities associated with the crime of human trafficking

The person (victim of trafficking) is recruited and forced / enticed to engage in some form of criminal activity, such as stealing wallets, growing marijuana and benefiting from fraud. Property used for crimes has its windows permanently covered from the inside with wooden boards, cardboard and the use of bars. Visits to these sites occur at unusual times. The property can be residential or commercial. Noises, unusual noises coming from the place. Bad smell, strange odors, people watching the roads and exits and outside the property. If you go through a location and identify such signs, do not omit, even if you are not 100% sure. Your gesture could save lives. Recalling that the reports can be anonymous.

Identifying the signs of human trafficking for domestic servitude

Domestic slavery is a particularly serious form of denial of freedom, this includes the obligation to provide certain services and the obligation to live on someone else's property without the possibility of changing these circumstances. In general, the victim lives and works for a family in a private home. She is treated in a rude, cold, humiliating way, being forbidden to eat at the family table, she cannot use the other bathrooms and common dependencies of the residence and they have a small room and bathroom separated from the rest of the family. Forced to work 24 hours a day, with no right to rest. Forbidden to go out alone, she only goes out with her employer. It presents malnutrition, fear, sadness and even marks of physical violence. He lives under the threat of the “employer” to be accused of a crime if he tries to escape.

Articles by Anna Alves-Lazaro - President Founder

To request help or report suspected human trafficking, call the National Trafficking in Persons Hotline, + 1-888-373-7888 or send the text “Help” to Befree (233733). Join the fight! Receive alerts and action updates on human trafficking through Instagram @hopeandjusticefoundation

#hopeandjustice #human trafficking #nomore

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inappropriatefangirlneeds · 5 years

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Gotham s5ep1 “Year Zero” Personal Review

““It will come” “A thousand rounds of freshly minted nine millimeter stock” Warning spoilers below

Hello there Gotham. The scenery with Edward arming himself and the disturbed vinyl sound makes me remember everything why I love this show. Oh, Oswald all dolled up and with a knife, I love it even more!

“It's two minutes past pumpkin time, sweetheart.” I was worried about BARBARA KEAN. The last season ended as if they would make her some horrible “someone got what feminism is about really wrong” character but there she is protecting women, looking stunning and being god damn reasonable! She´s doing good! She´s doing it on her own terms. Granted the men buying time thing seems a tad bit silly but could be quite entertaining, also pragmatism rules! “Honey, no one is asking you to forget what happened, but how do we protect the women who come in here every day looking for safety? We need this.” It was heart breaking and inspiring to hear her tell Tabitha “I need you too” This is how it should be, this is how you should do it. Also this just erased all my memory to all the wonky Barba and Ra´s al Ghul stuff. Please just don´t let her be all cray cray mad from now on. I really root for Oswalds ““Can we move past this? Say the whole Tabitha-Butch chapter is over?” approach. I could have done without all the BUTCH & TABITHA GALAVAN stuff. It just made barely any sense for Tabitha. It lessened the unexpected joy over finding out Tabs actually cared about Barbara. And while I always found it odd that OSWALD COBBLEPOT would neglect his revenge it feels stale at that point. And for me it gets even more cheapened if they have it circle on with Barbara trying to off Oswald. Things should come to an end or it makes something grave look like some soap opera relationship drama know. [Also why am I so suspicious about Tabs “don´t” line maybe being not only pure love and reason but a hint that she will somehow be back. Like oddly I don´t feel they would bring her back, but .. still suspicious!] “Gee. For a second there, I was worried.” Gee that was a good line. But I´m not really feeling it that SELINA KYLE would put the blame on Bruce like that. I get the pain, I get where she is and I get that there has to be some strain in between them because of this but I also feel like Selina would know, recognize and acknowledge that it is just Jeremiah who is to blame and no one else. Her saying something like that in that moment and state that she is in, perfectly reasonable but I so hope they won´t go further down that route once she´s healed (just have to assume that’s gonna happen) Sure it also seems to go hand in hand with her NO1. rule, that she just should have stuck to it and her going astray lead to her state and that Bruce is ultimately to blame which would send her on an even more solitary path than the one she has been on before, full of resentment for others BUT she´s always broken that rule, she´s always taken risk for others and not always has some profit from it, still she must have recognized to worth of that, I hope the writers won´t ignore that, like just to drive Bruce and Selina apart or something. The two of them had plenty of conflict, there is some things that Bruce actually did that Selina blames and resent him for, they do not need this as source of conflict. Also they already had her in a hospital and hopeless situation. Enough! But damn, those first few scenes. Camren Bicondova is such an amazing actress. This just broke my heart before I even got to know what situation she is in. Also damnit, I didn´t need the feelz of this plot line, I really didn´t please just let Selina be ok again soon! ALFRED PENNYWORTH seems to be out of his depth with everything, but hell who wouldn´t be. It seems they´ll keep pushing Bruce to be the one to call the tune, especially since Jim signing him in. That surgeon should just kiss Alfred, they should just let off some steam, clear the head, get rid of some tension and have Alfred build up something of his usual shine. Like I know it´s important for Bruce that someone watches Selina while he tries to fight for the medicine in the basement, and it´s great that he trusts Alfred with this but idk I feel like there´s still plenty of punches for him to throw in the right faces. “It's made him unassailable.” Can we talk about the shade in that line: “I mean, we have Penguin in City Hall, for God's sakes. He raided the armory and stockpiled weapons, then repurposed a factory to manufacture ammunition.” Jim´s voice was awesome when he delivered that. Like can you believe it, off all malady, we got penguin in the city hall, what a disgrace, I can´t believe it. But I´m glad OSWALD COBBLEPOT was clever to get things going well for him! Love that. He looks great too. But why the hell did he dress everyone around him so bland and boring??!!! Where is the previous style. Bring it back! Why is everyone looking so unhappy. >>> Oh no .. was this fashion foreshadowing. Apparently, Oswald dines well while letting everyone else starves. I feel Mr. Penn´s accusatory, disappointed and annoyed gaze. Also what is with all that politician like rhetoric? It´s bland, it´s boring. And it´s at odd times. Oswald has always been great with talk but now there´s something else happening and I don´t like it. I mean it´s great that he´s back on track with the self preservation thing , it suits him and it´s nice but he´s shown great concern for the people of Gotham and now he wouldn´t care at all that people starve in his workshop?! #notmypenguin I don´t buy it, and just because SELINA KYLE alone didn’t devastate me and I´m in that kind of mood I´m gonna read it into Oswald as well. After all I do think it makes more sense if I see Oswald being not quite in a dissimilar place than Selina is, or rather he is where I do think Selina could be if they give her back her agility (and hopefully a will to live) and just let her off without mental health treatment. Resentful, only being able to acknowledge the bad that has been done to them, desperately trying to keep themselves safe and especially keep themselves safe from others. I think it´s even telling that Selina can´t walk and they show Oswald getting a device for his leg just to be shot in it later. Oswald seems genuinely relieved and happy, the “feels good” carries joy. The device probably lessened the pain he has been in and moreover it grants him more mobility and agility, which in the current environment is more important than ever. However that cheery mood just lasts a tiny moment, it´s promptly followed by: put a knife on it . It´s pure survival. There´s some happy laughter about the new improvement but promptly Mr. Penn enters with more bad news and even worse something that basically challenges him and his leadership. Oswald just has to dismiss it. I feel like him talking so carelessly about the workers is not actually the lack of care but him being in a state where he just can´t acknowledge it. Something that he previously might have seen as something that needs to be tackled and resolved is now just a threat > Dismiss it! Same with the food. It´s not perfect, it´s not up to standard, it´s not what it should be > Overcooked, just get rid of it altogether. Not acceptable. Previous Oswald would have acknowledged a problem but would also have seen the other side and tried to utilize both but now he just can´t. Moreover his appearance is more on point than ever, meticulous even, and we get a scene with a makeup brush which certainly highlights this. > Everything has to be perfect, in place and under his control, he can´t tolerate anything else. He just can´t provide a target, and even if it´s smeared eyeliner. I think he´s strained, he´s scared, he´s terrified, he´s hurt. And it took a toll on him. It also explains the constant politician lingo, he just sees everything as a threat and he has to fire and try to disarm with the politician protocol. He can´t get to the core of a situation anymore it´s just politics of survival. Maybe even more in his head than it actually is. [Okay to be fair maybe I´m not taking into account the full situation, after all it is more than reasonable to fear for his life in his situation, even Tabitha aside, but it´s not like he hasn´t navigated through that before] [Also, I might just read nonsense into this because I´m sad and because I just don´t want Oswald to be a cookie cutter meaaaniie]

* Also how is everyone else just so great at acting. I´m shook. I thought, as usual with the time jump I´m just gonna be annoyed and really wondering how everyone got to the place where they are and why they suddenly liked someone or disliked them (*cough* Oswald n Babs what happened) but I´m just super emotional about how they all talk to each other. The scene with JIM GORDON & HARVEY BULLOCK & LUCIUS FOX discussing their situation was just so brilliant. (“And the truth?” “We're on our own.” “The truth is we have no idea what might happen. And our job is to keep ourselves and everyone else alive.” > so sell them hope) Respectful, open, aware of the situation, direct no sugar coating but mutual understanding. Same with the JIM & BRUCE SCENES. Feels like they really want to build them up to “Equals” pretty quickly. Even the scene with JIM & SCARECROW was brilliant. “I know what you're thinking, Captain. I have so few bullets. Do I spend one on him? Is it worth it? “I already know it's not.” But damnit the boy is worth everything. Although I find it really hard to see scarecrow as Jonathan Crane or see any connection between those, I guess it´s more convenient to just let that go and enjoy Scarecrow like he is. It´s great to have so many references of characters knowing what shit all the others are in as well. Tabitha/Barbara quickly call that Oswald is short on supply. It gives me an odd “we´re all in this together” vibe despite all of them still fighting each other. But as it seems they´re indeed going to team up. Another example of this was: “Sorry. Mouths to feed. And you know all about that, don't you?” I chuckled when OSWALD COBBLEPOT pulled that one on JIM GORDON. Despite having more guns, Oswald still went for the verbal manipulation, try to make Jim see him as basically doing the same just on another side, with other methods. Also can we talk about they paralleled them as well with the matter of TRUTH! “Truth is, I was never gonna make that deal. I need all those supplies.” “But if it was me, wouldn't I just admit it? I mean, it's not like I'm going to be arrested.” Oswald really didn´t have a reason to say that he didn´t shot the chopper down except for it being the truth. Jim really didn´t need to tell Oswald that his deal was just a ruse and never genuine, except for it being the truth. No matter the situation, no matter the circumstances those two do share some values! Apart from GOBBLEPOT subtext still going strong we´ve reached another HARVEY BULLOCK & JIM GORDON milestone. It´s their beginning 2.0. No matter what they´ve been trough, no matter how their relationship changed they are basically back to Season 1. In season one Jim held up his badge and announced everything has to be done the right way. Then Harvey Bullock scolded the boy scout and lectured him on Gotham´s ways. The right way doesn´t work in Gotham. Not we have Jim do the same, and Harvey sticking to his old role. “Three months ago, I would've lost my badge for that.” .. “You want rules for this game? I'll tell you. I'll make it simple, okay? You win or you die. Next time, shoot to kill.” * “Fine. Whatever.” Oh mood. * “Say it walking.” Oh Harvey, that´s a great one. * “I haven't been happy in ten years.” Oh shit what a mood again. * “Everything all right?” “No, but we're alive, so that's something.” Great line, and I kinda wish it was a mood. * Is the pilot okay? I´m worried. * “You´ve earned a place here” and then Bruce doing that tiny tiny tiiny nod … * Also Jim Gordon not regretting staying in Gotham “Hell no” holding up hope like that, although he might not even have it himself is wonderful. He really radiates the vibe that he got this as much as someone can in that situation. * Things I (and probably everyone else) just knew would happen 1. Tabitha: “He's gonna regret giving me this.” > Penn: Hey just letting you know quality suffered Oswald: Bullshit *fires shot* bullet doesn´t go the kind of boom it should > Another bullet does the same making the talk about regret echo in a mean but expected twist. 2. Gotham: A chopper will bring us the much needed supplies it´s gonna be great, it´s just gonna work once but it will work Chopper: Get shot down, what a surprise 3. Dumpster in an alley: Is there Audience: Ah Edward´s new bed *waits* Yes there he is. EDWARD NYGMA set up in a game against himself could develop really nice. And they had some great visuals in the scenes with him!

#gotham #gotham meta #oswald cobblepot #jim gordon #gotham s5ep1 Year Zero #boysout #mine Gotham full episode reviews

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the-colony-roleplay · 5 years

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Henry Liamson-Turner | Fifty Five; Elite

House: Calyset Status: Uninfected Elite Specification: International Trade Executive Alignment: New Wave Reformists

History

Yvonne made him a better, stronger man—a fact Henry Liamson-Turner told his wife time and time again, and he swore by it until the day she died.

Before Yvonne, he’d had little else of value. Little that made him feel anything at all. Henry’s father, Nat Liamson, was a cutthroat business man, spearheading an investment management firm called Liamson & Taylor Investment Group. His mother, Siobhan Turner, a political trophy wife. Growing up, Henry had little in common with either of them, but his father was a manipulative force to be reckoned with, and Henry spent the better part of his life working towards a career in Business Technology. He wasn’t passionate about it, but he was good at it, and the venture set him on a path apart from the family business, while also keeping his father more or less off his back: it was a career that would bring in excellent capital and be good for the family name. It would perhaps even present an opportunity in the future to join forces, which wasn’t something Henry wanted, but if it kept his opinionated father happy and quiet, Henry would let him believe whatever he liked.

He met Yvonne while getting his Master’s at the University of Melbourne. She took his breath away with her passion, her strong sense of self, her unfailing empathy. An artist, a teacher, a storyteller, she was everything he wasn’t and he admired her for it in bounds. They were married as soon as she graduated—and after a three year engagement, he was sure that their wedding would remain the single best day of his life. As it turned out, the best day of his life was actually that fateful evening two years later, when he came home to find her standing by the door to greet him with tears in her eyes—and a positive pregnancy test in her hand.

The worst day of his life, however, came almost exactly seven months later.

He wasn’t the same after she died. Though words could not describe how grateful he was that their baby boy survived the complicated delivery, at a scary six weeks premature, Yvonne’s death crippled him. Henry was terrified about raising their son without his wife’s gentle, level-headed touch, and he couldn’t even imagine his life without her in it.

After that, Felix Tate Turner became his most precious ambition and number one priority in his life. He was determined to give his son everything he deserved out of childhood—which included sending him to the prestigious private school Yvonne had always dreamed of for him, and working overtime to get that promotion so he could afford to pull out all the stops for his son.

But working as much as he did meant that young Felix spent a lot of time with the Nanny—and though she was lovely, hardworking, and excellent with Fee, it did mean that Henry felt he had a lot of making up to do in terms of time spent with his son. As Felix grew up and showed a natural inclination towards the more domestic disciplines in life, Henry adapted with him. It was actually a delight to see him grow into such a reflection of the mother he’d never met, both in looks and temperament. So he signed Felix up for anything the boy showed an interest in, be it dance, piano or vocal lessons, and he went out of his way to personally teach Fee how to cook, bake—even sew. More than that, he made it his prerogative to attended painting or sculpting or cake decorating classes with him whenever he could. Whatever Felix wanted, Henry set out not only to do for him, but to do with him. Henry strived to be a part of Felix’s life in a way his own father had never done for him.

Unfortunately, good intentions are about as much of a guarantee as best laid plans. Because Henry never really bounced back after the trauma of losing his wife. He did not feel he could turn to his family for support, and he was so preoccupied with proving himself, that he never took the time to get the help he so needed. Grief and PTSD compounded with extreme stress and exhaustion from the hours he poured into his work, and it meant that despite how hard he tried, despite the good times he had with his son, there were many more where a ten year old Felix would come downstairs to find his father a sobbing heap, curled up on the kitchen floor.

Henry’s neglected mental health affected Felix’s life a lot more than Henry was willing to admit. And once he did get that promotion, he began to miss recitals and parent-teacher meetings, forget to pick him up from school or about the promise he’d made to take him to that play he’d been looking forward to for months. Despite his almost overwhelming support when Felix came out to him as gay at around fourteen, none of it was enough. Felix had already learned to create distance from his father in order to protect himself, and Henry no longer knew how to bond or connect with him.

A talented and beautiful boy, Felix’s teenage life took him to exciting places after that, never a dull moment for him as he pursued a career in modelling and music entertainment. Henry supported him every step of the way, in whatever way he knew how and though he never gave up on trying to keep Felix close, it seemed that the harder he tried, the further he drove his son away.

Henry Today

Henry had been at the Sydney Airport waiting for Felix to arrive when D-Day hit. The following hour was one of the most panicked in his life, because he’d had no way to be sure Felix’s plane had even landed safely. He still remembers with nightmarish detail, seeing the airline status on the screens above his head momentarily flash with a green ‘arrived’—before the entire row of televisions had been blown apart by falling, flaming chaos. For a horrifying moment that had felt like an eternity, he thought those falling rocks had been pieces of Felix’s plane.

Their reunion remains the most relieved Henry has ever been in his entire life. With a petite, seventeen year old Felix shaking and crying in his arms, Henry now had a reason to bother trying to survive the horror raining down around them. Together they journeyed slowly towards Penrith, where they’d heard lied some refuge from some of the flooding and destruction of the more coastal cities. Eventually, they were welcomed into a group of survivors who’d turned an apartment complex into a safe haven of sorts—many months later, that complex would become Colony 30.

During the build and rise of the Colony system and their international communications and collaborations, Henry’s business expertise paved the way for him to become one of the original founders and minds behind the inter-colony Cargo and Trade Agreement. For the first time in his life, he was doing work he was truly passionate about. Work that was of the utmost importance, not only for his and his son’s future, but for humanity’s. Together with representatives all over the world, he helped to make the Colony system the growing and prospering framework that it was—right up until the New Wave Reformists took over.

Henry hadn’t been a difficult person for them to manipulate—his son was his greatest weakness, and with how openly he wore that on his sleeve, he made himself an easy target for the NWRF. They fed right into concerns he’d already harboured for years: whether Felix was safe among the Infected. All these unpredictable Deluded, those desperate and deranged Looters and the erratic behaviour of some of these lost souls wielding power they knew nothing about—power no one knew anything about—it was alarming and precarious territory. And when the Second Falling came about, bringing with it a second wave of Infection cases, he realized that Felix was vulnerable not only to the hands of some dangerous survivors, but also to becoming Infected himself. What if he became Deluded? What if he woke one morning screaming with migraines and pain as so many of the others had, and Henry could do nothing to stop it?

And so when the NWRF argued their cause and used the threat of his son’s safety as leverage, they had him eating out of their hands in no time. Protecting Felix had always been the single most important thing to him, and so if the Reformists were going to find a way to control the Infections, that was something he wanted to be a part of. Since the NWRF rise, he has continued with his work as a International Trade Executive, and is now also acting as a direct liaison between the Colony Elite systems and the NWRF organization. In late 2162, he requested a transfer to the UK, hoping he might be able to locate his sister-in-law who was living in England at the time of D-Day, which is how he came to be at Colony 22.

Henry’s position with the NWRF means that he is often putting on a front of strength and resilience with his work—but he is softer by nature than anyone expects of him, and his moments of weakness often come as a surprise to those who’ve not known him for a long time—which, at Col22, is literally everyone. Over the years, the stability of his position has given Henry something to focus on, and necessity allowed for him to regain some of his previously lost self control—but time has not in fact done him the favours he’d hoped it would, in terms of his mental health. He is still emotionally erratic and vulnerable, and though he cares a great deal about his work, liaising with the NWRF is stressful, especially as rebellions and unrest bubble beneath their feet.

Felix too, remains a constant concern—though his son denies it, Henry is fairly certain that Fee is still struggling with an eating disorder he’d developed in his early teenage years, and vain and self-centred as he is, he doesn’t make friends easily. It makes Henry worry even more about the emotional distance between them, because he doesn’t know that Felix will have anyone to go to in times of need. D-Day has arguably brought them closer than they were, but their relationship is far from smooth and despite Henry’s apparently tireless attempts to please his son, Felix is headstrong and difficult, and they bicker frequently.

RELATED BIOS: FELIX TATE TURNER

OPEN

#tom cavanagh #tom cavangh fc #literate rp #original rp #apocalypse rp #henry liamson-turner #nwrf #calyset #open #male #uninfected #elite #open male #open elite #open uninfected #open male elite #open male uninfected #international trade executive

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ardenttheories · 6 years

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istrige-namuose

replied to your post:

“Honestly I should go back do filling all those classpect requests in...”

#AddressedTheElephantInTheRoom

If the elephant in the room is “John is not okay” then I’ve got you entirely covered. If it’s not then you’re about to be deeply disappointed about my thesis on “why John is not okay”.

I believe I’ve mentioned this before, but from the very beginning John is at an incredible disadvantage when it comes to SBURB. Compared to all the other kids, trolls and our dear cherubs included, John is the only one with a significant amount to lose, and almost nothing to gain: Dave is being physically abused by his older brother, and has repressed himself to such a point that he sees no value in his life; Rose lives with a functioning alcoholic who she is convinced engages in passive-aggressive warfare with her, unable to tell who actually loves her and who does not; Jade lives with a dog, a dead grandpa she has never truly accepted the loss of at the beginning of the comic, and is almost completely isolated from society with no true way to enter it at her current age; Dirk and Roxy have never seen their parents, with Dirk’s isolation causing a severe negative impact on his mental health and Roxy’s causing her to partake in heavy drinking, and both live with the constant threat of death at the hands of HIC; Jane, while having a loving father, is under constant threat of assassination; Jake, sharing a similar situation to Jade, actually buried his dead grandmother’s body and was left to fend for himself on an island inhabited by creatures made to raise a species entirely more violent than he; the lowblood trolls live in a society that sees them as playthings, and wishes for them to be dead more than anything else; the midbloods hang on by a thread; the highbloods face constant instability, with Gamzee having to self medicate with sopor, Eridan struggling to find his place in a society that wants him to be brutal and a friend group that didn’t let his loves flourish, and Feferi living with the knowledge that her lusus could kill everyone should she not feed it correctly, as well as with the knowledge that her duty is to fight HIC, and either win or die trying; and Calliope, isolated in one room her whole life, lives reading a book that becomes what she wishes she could be part of, trapped in eternal, lonely war with her brother. None of these characters have the most optimal of lives; all live in fear of something, all struggle with and suffer from things that affect them deeply enough to continue well into the game itself. They are things each player needs to learn from, to grow out of and to move past in the process of growing up that SBURB facilitates in its challenges throughout the course of a session. This is, ironically, how you know the trolls’ game is not finished; they are not, for lack of a better term, “grown up” yet when they reach their door.

When we consider what each surviving player gains at the end of the game in Earth C, we can see that they have achieved true growth, as well as the happiness, safety and content that did not exist pre-game. Dave has Dirk, Rose has Roxy, Jade has Jake; each gains that which they had lost, or never had, in the form of their guardians’ younger selves, giving them what is essentially a fresh slate to build upon in a manner that is beneficial to them all. Dave no longer lives in fear, has found love, acceptance of himself, and is moving past his abuse to begin healing. Rose has a mother she knows loves her, the ability to love herself, to love her wife, and a much more stable homelife that allows her to heal from years of neglect and uncertainty. Jade and Jake no longer live in isolation, no longer live in danger; they integrate into a society built for them, a society which loves them unconditionally, near friends that remind them that they are no longer alone. Dirk and Roxy are no longer in danger of HIC, have moved on past the negative coping habits and the accidental neglect they suffered in youth, and Dirk particularly is making an effort to grow from the toxic habits he picked up as he struggled with severe mental health issues alone - both with lovers that, for two isolated children who initially never had a single human within any sort of distance to them, represent everything they never thought they could have, and a step into actual life with people who are in their same time. Calliope is no longer bound to a tiny room with a brother who wishes to kill her, and has found a love which, initially, was never meant to be something she could have. Jane has her father, the only surviving guardian of the entire game, the business she was always meant to run, a love that she struggled to gain so desperately at the beginning of her session, and a chance to live without complete fear of assassination. Karkat no longer lives in fear of a society which wishes to kill him for his blood; Kanaya gets to live the life she chooses, not the path that is chosen for her; Terezi is no longer at a potential threat due to her blindness, and similarly is not under societal pressures to be who she thinks she should have been on Alternia; and Vriska, freed from the confines of what feeding her mother required, is able, when she returns, to be who she wishes to be, to achieve the enlightenment that (Vriska) did. All of the kids began with nothing, with situations that were, to say the least, less than ideal, and grew to a place where they were finally free.

John is the exact opposite of every other child in the game.

John begins with a loving father, one he does not entirely understand, but who plays to his son’s interests in an attempt to form a closer bond. From what we see of Poppop, he had a rather good future ahead of him; a wife, child, and a job that made him a fairly wealthy man, and if nothing else a very happy and kindly one. He had a perfect home in the suburbs, an education, a hobby that was in and of itself profitable should he have attempted to put any merit to being a professional pianist, and he suffered from no sort of trauma during his first thirteen years of life. There was nothing inherently wrong with John’s life, unlike the other kids.

This is where everything goes horribly wrong.

The other kids have suffered hardships. They have faced monsters day in and day out throughout their lives; fighting is no issue to Dave, who has fought his Bro his whole life; it is no issue to Jade, who takes her gun with her wherever she goes, and has essentially raised herself; it is certainly no issues to the trolls, quite literally tailor made to win the game by Doc Scratch. John has no ability to cope. He has had no reason to develop coping mechanisms, or to learn how to defend himself, or to learn how to handle the trauma that comes with death, war, and a daily struggle to survive.

This is likely why we never see John react. He simply doesn’t know how to.

He doesn’t know how to handle waking up to see, for his first interaction with her, Jade’s dead body, when they had promised to spend so much time together before. He doesn’t know how to handle seeing his father’s dead body, covered in blood, only seconds before being killed himself. They are not a situations he has ever had to deal with, situations unlike anything he has ever struggled with - and thus, he buries it. Focuses on the game, shoves it all to one side, focuses on the struggles of his friends and attempting to ensure they win the game when all else fails - because John is, essentially, a failsafe.

Think of his classpect. John is the Heir of Breath; freedom inherited, under his control. He is the epitome of his aspect. John’s role in SBURB is to free those who are trapped; to free his friends from abuse and neglect, to free all their players from the doomed timelines of the game itself, to free the session from its barren state so a new universe can emerge at the end. John is made simply to ensure that their session wins, no matter how much they have to fight for it to begin with. It’s why, without John, the session is doomed from the start, with no potential to go on; it’s why Dave has to become Davesprite to ensure he survives. As the inheritor of freedom, John has a duty to ensure he similarly frees everyone he possibly can from whatever may be chaining them down. Think, for instance, how in the retconned timeline Vriska stops Rose from drinking; how Karkat and Dave’s relationship allows Dave to open up more clearly to himself about who he is and how he feels. John’s actions as a Heir of Breath are inherently linked to the freedom of his friends, whether he realises it or not. It’s why, ultimately, he needs to be someone who comes from such a stable background; he is free when he begins the game, and in an adequate place to free those around him as he has no prior baggage to deal with.

However, this puts him in a place to gain it as the game progresses. Whereas his friends are allowed time to heal from what which they suffer from, John himself simply loses things throughout the session. He loses his life, his home, his dad, his future, his stability - he sees things which he is unable to cope with, losing his innocence and naivety - with no true understanding of how he is meant to handle the stress and trauma. John, in essence, regresses to the same place his friends began at, as they continue to grow to the place he once knew well.

Why is his classpect so vital to this? I have mentioned this before, but as the Heir of Breath, the freedom that John inherits is all-encompassing. With an inability to cope, he is unable to control what he frees people - including himself - from, and takes on the role of a True Heir of Breath. He frees unknowingly, without proper direction, and suffers deeply for it - because in the end, what he frees himself from most is his friends.

John frees himself from all the bonds he once had through all of his efforts to free his friends from their doomed timelines; once reaching Earth C, they are in a position to live the lives they never had, to evolve into the people they should have been. John is not. John’s position is weak, is regressive; it is a position in which the only way is down from the pedestal that he, very long ago, began the game on. Distanced from his friends - who likely do not realise that there is an issue, as the post-credit scenes would seem to imply (because why would they? They have won the game after years of struggle and have entered into a better world; why would they, for a moment, think that John does not share the same sentiment?) - John does not have anything to truly tie him to Earth C. It is not a world that holds anything for him; yes, his friends are there, but they are friends who do not remember the same things that he does due to the retcon, friends who have developed and matured and progressed without him, friends who no longer need him now that they do not need freeing, do not need a leader, do not need that failsafe to rely on. He has Jane, yes, but she is only his Nanna, and she has her Dad, as well as Roxy and Calliope, as well as a business; she has no reason to pursue the same bond with John as the other kids have with their young guardians. Worse still, he does not have his Dad. Yes, he has Jane’s Dad, but he is quite simply that; Jane’s Dad. He does not remember raising John, he does not remember things that John and his Dad did, he is not even the same man due to having to save Jane frequently from assassination attempts.

I have seen people mention multiple times that John does not reveal his struggles because he doesn’t like to burden his friends, and in this case, this is simply another way that his classpect is freeing him from everything. Without an ability to tell them that something is wrong, they have no reason to be concerned for him; they have no reason to assume that he is struggling, that they need to keep an eye on him, to help him. This is why, I think, we got such a surge of “John is depressed” headcanons post-credits; he is in the perfect position to suffer from severe, perhaps chronic, depression, as well as (at least in my mind) PTSD, insomnia, and dissociation - and he has absolutely nobody to rely on.

John, at the end of the game, is not in a good place.

And this is almost entirely because of his classpect, what he began with, and what he has lost throughout the game’s progression.

#istrige-namuose #homestuck #homestuck analysis #long post//#john egbert #character analysis

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haikujitsu · 6 years

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THE SHADE IN SHANNON'S HOUSE. WHAT THE FUCK. Does being on the thermos for so Iong affect VIad's mind? WiII Shannon ever find out about the shade? Do Shannon and Danny stiII hang out afterwards? Does Shannon ask for ghost stories from Danny? WiII Danny's Doctor continue studying paranaturaI stuff after Danny? What was your favorite SOAD scene to write? which scene was the hardest? What wiII Danny go on to study, how often does he get to see Shannon and the gang?

Hokay, where to start…

Favorite Scene to Write

Oh, gosh. This is hard because it’s such a flippin’ long story and I wrote it over such a long span of time. I think… hmmm.

I really loved writing the Jack and Danny reunion near the end. Jack was one of those characters I didn’t like much initially, but he grew on me as the years passed and now honestly he’s one of my favorites. Being able to bring Danny home and letting them hug it out just felt so satisfying and cathartic.

I also enjoyed writing Mrs. Foley because she’s so wholesome and such a good influence on literally everyone. The Spectra cameo was also neat since she’s one of my favorite ghosts and bringing her into a psychological drama seemed fitting. Also that action scene where Maddie steals a ghost bike and rides it home? Super fun to write.

Hardest Scene to Write

Easily Maddie and Danny’s confrontation at Shannon’s (which in the end was split over Ch. 59/60). It needed to be a balance of getting it all out in the open, acknowledging the truly devastating nature of what Maddie had done, and yet allowing room for empathy and understanding and forgiveness.

It’s incredibly hard to make that choice to face your own pain and accept someone’s repentence– and incredibly powerful to see it happen. I did my best to bring the characters to a point where they were capable of that reunion. I spent weeks reworking and tearing up and reassembling the dialogue to make it feel real and hit alll those notes of anger and grief and loss and love in a way that felt sincere. It didn’t ring true for everyone, but I did what I could.

Vlad

Yes, it seriously affects Vlad’s psychological health, not to mention brain function. More on this in another ask!

Shannon

Being able to fly upwards of 100 mph makes it surprisingly easy to maintain a friendship across state lines. Danny’s a little shy about visiting at first, but Shannon is so matter of fact about it that they end up having monster movie and spaghetti nights once or twice a month.

Shannon mostly leaves the ghost topic alone because she senses that Danny wants to get away from ghost talk– but when he brings it up she always settles in for a crazy story. Once you leave the borders of Amity Park even the existence of ghosts feels more and more unbelievable… but Danny sitting at the table (or sometimes floating above it) is a constant reminder of the strangeness of the world.

He has to learn to be careful about the superpowers though, since there’s invariably someone staying in one of Shannon’s spare rooms. In a year or so she decides to become an official foster mom and the kids she takes in get a lot younger (grade school and teens). Danny develops a reputation as someone who doesn’t care how dark your problems get; he can also make bullies mysteriously lose interest and is pretty good at video games too. Danny finds out he likes being the big brother for a change.

Shannon’s place becomes a sort of safety zone for Danny. When he has a bad day, when he needs a break from ghost hunting, when he has a problem that he can’t talk out with his friends, when his parents cross a line and he needs some space. Shannon starts keeping Todd’s room reserved for his visits, which, depending on the reason, can last for a few days.

The Shade

Recap for those who don’t remember: There’s a shade (powerless proto-ghost with minimal self-awareness, only visible to humans with spectral abilities) that haunts Shannon’s house, and it’s heavily implied that this is Shannon’s long-lost younger brother, Todd. Danny, Gabe and Harley are aware of its presence but Shannon is not.

Shannon still hopes that her brother is alive, so at first Danny doesn’t tell her. But sooner or later it gets to him– maybe talking with Jazz and realizing how heart-wrenching that uncertainty is, maybe Shannon reminiscing about Todd, maybe just visiting and seeing the shade drifting around in perpetual purgatory.

He tells her. That’s a whole heart-wrenching conversation as you can imagine, but in the end Shannon believes him and accepts that Todd is dead. That’s not enough for Danny, who can see the shade literally inches from Shannon even as they talk about him. Danny wants to reunite them somehow.

So he goes to his parents. Which, by the bye, is a huge step because Danny’s still super uncomfortable with them in their role as ghost hunters/scientists. Maddie and Jack realize that and they handle this as delicately as they know how. Which is…not very delicately, but they try.

They know that if they just present raw ectoplasm to the shade that it would manifest in a seeable, sentient form. But it’s dangerous because the sentience and visibility that ectoplasm provides comes at a price– it typically enhances aggression, self-fascination and obsessiveness to the point where the ghost becomes a simplified charicature of his former self.

If Todd were to become a ghost like Ember or Technus, he might not even remember Shannon at all and would very likely be a threat to humans.

Danny, as usual, turns out to be the key. Because the ectoplasm used in creating the portal was so carefully purified, he escaped the worst of the ectoplasmic side effects. The Fentons theorize that if they create a controlled environment where they can slowly introduce purified and denatured ectoplasm, they can give the shade a physical form and encourage sentience without causing insanity and aggression.

With Shannon’s permission they rig up the living room with equipment and are able to trap Todd’s shade and try out their theory. He manifests successfully. Whether they can only sustain it for a few minutes or it’s a lasting solution, I don’t know. But at the very least they see each other, and Shannon can say goodbye.

Dr. Wagner

I feel like ectoscience is one of those things where, once you’re aware of it, you can’t just… stop being involved. It’s too niche, too bizarre, and too interesting.

Especially since Dr. Wagner is now one of three medical professionals (four if we’re counting Dr. Kerza) aware of the existence of ghost/human hybrids, period. He’s one of the few people informed enough to competently treat Danny, Valerie, and anyone else like them.

So yes, getting involved with Danny forever changes Dr. Wagner’s life. After his residency is up, he moves to Amity Park and gets a job under Dr. Stein–that’s Danny’s original doctor from his first hospital stay post-PoT; he was brought into the loop about the halfa thing at Dr. Wagner’s insistence.

The two doctors trade off patching Danny up on the occasions where he needs serious medical attention, and in the meantime work together to create legitimate scientific studies pertaining to ectoplasm and its interactions with human physiology. As the epicenter of ectocontaminated injuries, Amity Park General Hospital is the ideal place to conduct this research.

Most of the existing data has been collected by either the GIW (which rarely publicizes its findings) or scientists in non-medical fields with varying levels of scientific integrity, so this turns out to be an excellent way for a young, hardworking doctor to make a name for himself.

He also dates a certain redheaded psychology grad student for a while, but nothing comes of it… except a very awkward few months of ecto-charged glares from his primary patient.

Danny’s Studies

Danny does eke his way into community college with the help of some online classes and Jazz’s tutoring. No one can figure out why his new campus has a sudden spike in ghost activity, though the Fentons make a public statement with some handwavey ‘spectral wave pattern fluctuations’ explanation.

I’m honestly not sure what he’d end up majoring in… I do feel that he’d change majors at least once before he settled into something he liked. His academic performance is directly linked to the level of ghost crisis in Amity Park–though he’s gotten much better at sharing responsibility with Valerie and his parents.

He’d probably go in with an interest in Engineering, Applied Science, and Astrophysics despite his bad math grades–which, let’s be honest, are probably a direct result of his ghost hunting and not a lack of intelligence. I think he’d surprise himself by doing really well in Sociology and Anthropology-related courses. Nothing like being thrown into a bizarre xenoculture made of a mishmash of human history to prepare you for higher education, ey?

#soad ama #soad asks #xiulric #dropping this under a readmore actually

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windowsteam02 · 3 years

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Melatonin Overdose

Will Melanotan 2 Work With Kind 1 Skin And Red Heads?

Content

' Everybody Is Asking Me Where I Have Actually Gotten On Holiday'.

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Though even more research studies and also top notch trials are needed, some research suggests anti-oxidants might aid. Keep current on the largest wellness and also wellness news with our once a week wrap-up.

Does Melanotan make you tired?

Melanotan II binds with a wider range of receptors than melanotan I and has a shorter life in your body. It can also cross your blood-brain barrier, which can cause side effects like appetite loss, sexual dysfunction, and fatigue. Melanotan II is not currently used to treat any medical conditions.

Equally as it is the case with various other legal peptides up for sale, there are lots of Melanotan-II vendors online as well as offline. But do all of them market genuine products as well as make use of the right Melanotan-II cost in their rates? Although there are different methods of administering Melanotan-II including splashing as well as ingesting, as well as injection, the last is the most effective. The peptide molecules in the Melanotan peptide spray are too big therefore, it's hard for them to pass through the nasal membrane layer. Besides, you need to make sure that you don't take too much or insufficient of the medicine.

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In spite of all that, at some time, specifically during summertime, I would get burnt terribly by the sunlight rays. In 2015 I found out about Melanotan peptide and I rejoice to report that this stuff has actually given me my life back. Allow's currently check out the Melanotan-II reviews offered by people that've made use of MT2 (). The findings are a clear indication that Melanotan peptide can aid people who wish to get rid of some weight, especially the obese as well as the obese, to reduce their carbohydrate as well as calorie consumption. The computer mice which were used in the experiment had actually minimized body weight as well as viscera fat adhering to the six-day treatment with Melanotan peptide.

Consult your physician before injecting or ingesting any type of medicinal substances. Getting sunlight is good for you-- as with everything though, moderation is the key. If you stay in an area that has 4 periods of the year You are pasty white for 3 of them.I f your timetable doesn't allow you to obtain outside frequently you're not also tan in the one period you can be. Locating a way to control the body's long-term energy balance independent of food consumption is essential because many diets that rely upon calorie decrease typically fail, Côté said. Greater than 75 percent of dieters restore their slimmed down within 5 years, according to a 2001 study by various other scientists.

Melanotan (an unlicensed medicine referred to as the "tan stab") can trigger fast adjustments in the look of moles, advise skin specialists in the British Medical Journal. The guideline would also boost the highest sunlight defense factor value that the company identifies from SPF 30 to SPF 50+. The FDA is approving discuss the rule till November 26, 2007. All medications should be shut out of the reach of children which may be tough in a refrigerator.

They actually provide a lot more threats than tanning outdoors in the sun.

Do not remain outdoors for longer than your skin can develop melanin.

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The only tested method to avoid skin cancer is by staying out of extreme sunshine as well as utilizing a high-grade sunscreen.

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You will specify where individuals ask you where you have actually been for getaway. It works by boosting the quantity of melatonin in your body so it only stands to reason that the dark spots heal darker. Not an issue for Sven but definitely worth discussing specifically if you have blemishes all over your face.

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