#that’s coming up on three years. one of the members I met on that server is apart of my family now. wild | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jaymber · 1 year

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I’m new here and have many questions..

Vaea- 5,15,25,41

Silver- 4,14,33

Linda-2,19,27,34

Flavio-17,26,49

Amy- 16,21,28,36

Gabby- 18,22,44,55,63

Sorry if this is too many I love your characters so much and must know more <3

No prob, anon. Sorry this took some time to answer! I'll put it all under a "read more" not to make this post too long :D

Vaea

5. are they religious or spiritual in any way?

Vaea used to believe in God, but not anymore. He lost his faith after dying and coming back to life about a dozen times when he had the Relic stuck in his head. He’s still superstitious, though. He wouldn’t walk under ladders and the number 13 makes him feel uneasy.

15. what is their preferred vehicle or transportation of choice?

Vaea bought a Herrera Outlaw from Dino, his dream car for years. A shiny sportcar with purple leather and enough room for three people!

25. which radio station(s) is their favorite?

If Vaea’s driving, you’ll listen to 106.9 30 Principales, baby! He really likes reggaeton, and sometimes even play some at the Atlantis when Kerry and Johnny aren’t there to stop him. Fun fact, his favorite track in 2077 was Serpant.

41. do they believe in soulmates?

Vaea always believed in platonic soulmates, those people you met and immediately bound with. Romantic soulmates? That’s another story. He didn’t believe he could even fall in love until his early 30’s, when he met Johnny, then Kerry. At first, he figured he liked Johnny cause, with the Relic, he was Johnny, and Johnny liked himself so much it affected him. Kerry? Well, those were Johnny’s repressed feelings, right? It took him some time to accept that maybe, maybe, they were meant to be…

Silver

4. what tarot card from the major arcana would you associate with them?

Silver, with the rogue AI living within them, is the Lovers card. A reversed one. They and Ghede (the AI) live an unbalanced life, always trying to overpower the other and take over their shared body. Before that encounter, Silver worked for Netwatch as a hunter. They made some pretty bad choices, and never felt remorse over those. Plus, they do love themself quite a lot!

14. what is their weapon of choice?

Silver only uses their cyberdeck and lethal hacks. But if it’s a personal thing, they can get up close and physical. They won’t take the risk of getting hurt, no. They cripple the target’s movements, and flatline them with a knife to the throat.

33. what is/was their relationship like with their parents?

Silver was raised in a recluse netrunner community. It wasn’t their parents’ job to raise them, but the elders’. The ones that couldn’t netrun anymore. Since their parents were almost always deep into the Net, Silver’s relationship with them was rather distant. They barely ever talked, and they weren’t the ones that taught Silver to netrun since they were too busy to do it. They died when Silver was 13. A malware fried the community’s servers, and everyone connected to them. They were sad, sure, but their deaths were just as painful as the other members of the community.

Linda

2. how old are they? how long have they been living on their own?

Linda was born in 2050. Most pics of her are taken in 2079/2080, when she’s about 29-30 yo. She was raised by her grandma, and left her house at age 22. She lived on other people’s couches, most of them girls she slept with. Her situation becomes more stable when she gets hired as a bartender for the Atlantis, in 2078. She gets her own apartmenet in Japantown.

19. is your character from night city? if no, where were they born? what brought them to night city? if yes, what area of the city did they grow up?

Linda was born in Santo Domingo. She actually never left NC, not even for a trip to the Badlands. She really likes the chaos reigning in the city, and wouldn’t leave it for anything in the world.

27. have they ever had run ins with the badges?

Linda was the kind of restless teen that always got in trouble as a teen. She’s get bored and a trash can would catch on fire. She was also a victim of bullying in her preteen years, and became a bully herself as she got older, sometimes taking it too far.

As an adult, she got arrested a few times for theft and resisting arrest. Also selling glitter, and counterfeiting Health Boosters (and taking part in a pyramid scheme to sell those). And her mobile subscription might be under 8ug’s name when she """borrowed""" her ID that one time.

34. do they have siblings?

Linda got an older brother, Flavio. They don’t really get along, though. Flavio enlisted when he was 17 and her 11, and she took it as Flavio abandoning her. He’s tried to reconnect with her countless times, but Linda doesn’t wanna hear anything.

Flavio

17. are they a early riser or a night owl?

After years working for the NUSA army, Flavio still has the habit to wake up early… and I mean early, like 5 am most days. He does indulge in “dad naps” though and “rests his eyes” the second he’s sat down on a couch!

26. if they do merc work, do they have one dedicated fixer? if so, who?

Since he’s out of the military, Flavio works in construction (and the occasional street fights when he desperately needs money). He doesn’t really turn to fixers, but he’s already worked for 6th Street before. Nothing too serious, a little spying around Heywood there. A little threatening in Arroyo there. The pay is much better, since there’s no middle man.

49. name three of your characters biggest turn ons.

Here’s three things that make Flavio horny grip:

nipples poking through a shirt

nails running against his skin

fake bickering and witty replies

Amy

16. how would you describe their style?

I’m still working on it, but I wana give Amy a skatergirl/grunge aesthetic. Checkered pants, ripped jeans, crop tops, …

21. do they have any favorite spots around NC?

Amy walks around NC with sparkles in her eyes. She loves every part of it, but especially the Watson area. The bright neon lights or the more industrial part of the district. With time, she starts hanging more and more at the Totentanz. As a former cyberpsycho, she feels like she fits in there.

28. are they quick to help a stranger in need or do they prefer to stay out of other peoples business?

Amy loves to help, even though she can be more as smothering than nurturing at times. She still struggles controlling her impulses. She’ll run to help out first, and won’t take the time to wonder how/if she can help.

36. who is their biggest enemy?

In 2080, Amy doesn’t really have enemies, no physical ones that is. She struggles with herself, with her impulses she can’t control, with her remorses over what she’s done when she lost her mind. She hates her status as a former cyberpsycho. She can’t show negative emotions, because it scares people. She feels like a guinea pig sometimes, an experiment people talk about without seeing she’s a person first and foremost. She doesn’t have enemies, but she still struggles.

Gabby

18. share three songs you associate with them.

Already done, but here’s three more:

Do U Like Me Now? - Dana Dentata

I stick needles in my mouth! Do you like me, now?

Gabby plays in XBDs. There’s little he won’t do for the attention.

X - Poppy

Get me, get me bloody, please get me bloody You can get down on your knees if you're naughty

Yet another “Gabby likes to be worshipped” song :’)

All I'll Ever Known - OWEL

How long it will be before I'm asking for the sea 'Til at last the ocean is gone?

One of Gabby’s major issues is that he doesn’t take “no” for an answer. He’s used to get whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, no matter the consequences.

22. do they like to cook for themselves, or eat out? do they prefer restaurants or street food? and how do they feel about vending machine food?

Gabby had cooks growing up, and never learnt to do anything in a kitchen. He’s used to ganic food and luxury cuisine. He’s the type of people to get a reservation in the fanciest restaurants in NC very quickly thanks to his money and his family name (he’s the great-grandchild of the founder of Militech). He’s tried street food and even, uh, vending machine food, but that’s not really his style.

44. would your character ever get married?

Gabby can’t get married. His family won’t allow it. As a Luccessi, he can’t share his name with just anyone. That’s fine by him, though. He sees marriage as nothing but a social ritual for economical advantages. He doesn’t see the need to get married, since he wouldn’t need his spouse’s money or rights to get by in life.

55. do they have a preference for ‘ganic bodies or do they like modifications?

Gabby has a preference for modified bodies. He likes the shine, the texture under his fingertips. Sure skin is fine, but he finds metal much more appealing. (and yeah, I do hc that Royce hides a lot of cyberware under those clothes of his hehe)

63. do they like to sext or play over the holo?

Gabby loves it, but he’d rather use the holo than text. He knows how to use his voice just the right way to get things all hot and steamy.

#thanks for the ask!!!!!#sorry again for taking that long #oc: vaea temarii #oc: silver #oc: linda llorente #oc: flavio llorente #oc: amy withers #oc: gabby luccessi #if there's other questions lmk i love talking about my babies hehe

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sapybara · 2 years

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Was scrolling through Twitter (a mistake on my part) and im kinda nervous about the Karmaland thingy. I am /hj about Q joining, like I want him too but know I shouldnt keep my hopes up, but the rumours of Q joining made it easy to block people. I saw many people being nasty to Quackity and his accomplishments and I'm glad those losers showed their heads (almost all had 0 followers and their accounts were made either this month of last one) so I could block them.

There's a difference between making good points against Quackity joining and another bringing him down as their excuse of him not joining. Anyways I hope they perish

Well in my opinion anyone who says that Q shouldn't be in Karmaland must die :D

On a more serious note, one of the defects that the hispanic community has (<- the fans not the streamers) is that it is very, uhm, elitist? Karmaland is the first big smp and just a few people get in (usually Vegetta's close circle because the point of the smp is mess around with friends), and these people happen to be the one's who started the whole YouTube wave back in 2012, so they've been around for a while. Karmaland 1 was literally four people and slowly more CCs were added, until K4 that there were 9 CCs (K5 will have a total of 11 members) People treats Karmaland as if only the "og" CCs could join, and despite Quackity being a CC for 9+ years, he didn't make spanish content until last year, so the community doesn't really know him <- except for his really loud and chaotic persona, and that's probably what they're complaining about. Happened with Rubius, happened with Auron, but when the smp started they realized that they're actually cool people and (most importantly) they are FRIENDS and they are not getting mad over a fucking block game. If Quackity is in Karmaland, I think he'll get along just right with the rest of the crew and will fit into the Karmaland dynamics (<- that consist in messing up with Vegetta and exploding stuff here and there. That why it's called Karma-land)

On the other hand, we've never seen Q and V or Q and Willy publicly interact. But we've seen Q getting along with the Tortillaland crew. Now, the difference between Tortilla and Karmaland is that Tortilla is brand new, made by Auron in 2021, mixing the YouTube "ogs" crew with the Twitch community, so there were at least 30 different CCs in the beginning + some others that were added mid series. That's the key difference, Tortilla has three times more members than Karmaland and most of the viewers come from Twitch, not YouTube, so they are waaay more relaxed about who joins. It never included just a close circle of friends that's been around for 10+ years, but the popular hispanic Twitch streamers that maybe have been streaming for 2-3 years. And Quackity got along with lots of people from this smp, so maybe it would make more sense that if he gets added to a big hispanic smp is Tortilla.

I'm nervous too, but I know that no matter which/if smp Q gets added, he will fit just right with the people cause he is waaay more comfortable now with his spanish content and he already met lots of the CCs that are in each server. I'm excited about the possibility of mc spanish content and I hope I won't end up clowning because this was all just bait

#this was longer than i expected oops #tldr: people always complain but theyre gonna forget the second they see Q interacting with the rest #karmaland posting

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kaimukiwahine · 5 months

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Day one: Post graduation reflection

After leaving the arena and staying for the lei ceremony for a little while, my folks drove me home. Got to beat that traffic, you know.

Once home, I got out of my gown and hood, my formals, all of it. Put on the sleepwear I wore this morning, crawled into bed and just cried.

No one except my parents were there. No other family. None of my friends nor my professors I have known for years showed up. Granted, one of my friends from the uni server and my professor chair did show but it was long after I left. My folks and I just gave up thinking anyone would come to see me.

The past few years, I kept questioning was this all worth it. The time, money, energy for a degree I originally didn't plan for. Was roped in because my previous professor told me he will take me in to do it and I wouldn't have to pay for it. So I did. And he lied.

I known him for several years prior as an undergrad. Worked and studied then when time came to graduate he offered. But when I come to him ready, he wasn't. My family paid for my education while he kept putting up a facade of being the kind professor. He got me a job but it just soured as I was put into being basically a maid, far from what I was originally intended to work as.

The same summer I was let go, he let me go. I spent those hot summer months working on a project I tried to stay enthusiastic about. Only to be told I was incapable, much like the employer who let me go just a month prior. Because of one miscommunication. Even went to so go as far as holding a surprise meeting where he basically shamed me in front of three other people i never met, that I should consider dropping out. Leave grad school, the very same he told me to do when I didn't want it. All of this, just a week prior to the start of my second year. I survived just one year under him.

Luckily, another professor took me in. For thesis, you arrange a committee: one chairperson and your members. One of my members gladly took me in after explaining things. He didn't make any lofty promises, just what he has in mind and if I was interested. I took it.

So I would spend the next six years with him. It could have been shorter but I was so scared and hurt, I treaded with so much caution. Things that should have been done in the first year, it took three. Granted, the pandemic happened but it was no excuse. I didn't push myself. I didn't want to put in the work for it to be for nothing. Just like my time in architecture..

But here I am, I finished. But it just feels hollow. I met people, made some friends in person and through online. But where are they? Those who says they will be here.. Did I do something wrong? The promises made, are they all like my previous professor? Pretty words to draw me in only to take away.

I guess I'm just not worth it. Not worthy of the degree. Not worthy of having people proudly stand by me. Maybe not even worth being here. I don't know. I tried erasing myself a number of time this past year. A lot less compared to last year, you can give me that at least. But each time, someone stopped me.

But now, I'm alone. Only with memories of those pretty words that just rings hollow. Maybe I don't deserve anything. No celebration, no fun family or friend get together into the night or plans for the future, no anything.

Just me, my thoughts, and nothing.

#sorry

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scoutbot · 11 months

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deadpica thlaat

pronouns: they/them

setting: my freinds and i's rp setting/skaiason combinatory lore

story: deadpica is a complicated character with a complicated backstory, but i will try my best to summarize. they start out life as an autistic fae child who was changed out for a troll known as depica thlaat. they lived in the largest forest on alternia with their moirail and freind for a while before getting drafted into leading a violent conspiracy against the condesce and spending the next three sweeps of their life torturing and killing trolls who got in their way before playing sburb and dying alongside their moirail after their freind got posessed by lord english as part of a grander plot by a different villain. deadpica and their moirail spent the next 18,998 years wandering the bubbles in isolation, with only eachother. then they met someone else, and then two years later got involved in the events of a crack rp taken way too seriously. during the crack rp they became extremely meta-aware, and then later ended up becoming the most powerful thing in all of existance that isnt an outright god.

fae

pronouns: they/them or snow/snows

setting: my freinds and i's homestuck-based rp setting/skaiason combinatory lore

story: fae is the result of deadpica getting piss drunk in a server other than their native one and getting voted minor coded by the other muns. i didnt know how else to resolve shrodinger's horny rights, so fae came into existance. fae's genesis is relatively mundane compared to their siblings, and they kinda have a complex about it. for the first few years of their existance, they tried and failed over and over again to find a way to earn their right to exist. until, on the earth c they were hanging out on, winter didnt come. for two years straight, it was summer. the only one responsible for this could be the fae species' summer queen, so fae decided to kill her. they trained, making their magic more and more powerful, before the time came. fae walked away with the summer queen's crown on their head and her decapitated head in their hands. having killed the most powerful of the summer fae, fae decided that they had earned their right to exist. but still, fae wasnt satisfied. they had earned their right to exist, but they still had to get out of their big sibling - the most powerful thing in all existance that isnt an outright god - 's shadow. they started studying magic other than their own natural magic, which brings us up to the present relative to them. also fae is the only member of their species known to not be able to shapeshift.

#felix noises #my ocs poll bracket #deadpica #fae #||#presidential alert: the siblings are fightinggggg

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togamzee · 1 year

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“The first thing that made me take notice of you the night we met was your tattoo.”

Each waking thought on his flight to Italy had been possessed by that singular notion. It was an obvious tattoo. The placement wasn’t hidden; he hadn’t let his hair grow in locks as a cover. A secret prize for his fated lover to reveal. He had wanted it on display, and while the placement had been grueling to endure–worse pains could and have been inflicted at the nape. Not for him, necessarily…

He had found solace and unbridled commitment in his soulmate’s understanding. Understanding of the rose, of the placement. Whoever they might be would draw the connection from some similar place existing inside the two. If it was anything like his, they’d know the endless black well of separation that existed between them and others. A well he’d mastered in masking. It came effortlessly; though not always without the echo of an archaic devil whispering you hide and play pretend when you're just an evil soul in a crafted mask between his ears. He’d long since learned to quiet those echoes, to let out his deep rooted aggression in a celebrated manner that brought him fame and renown. To a fault, even.

A fault that had him kindly smiling at that wide eyed reporter, bright laughter ringing; cheeky, characteristically Kaz blush rising in his tanned features. The tattoo had made its debut in the previous match, and in the halls while other players and teams passed through–she had stopped with her camera crew and microphone to inquire on what meaning he had given to the ink adorning the back of his neck.

“Oh, the rose? It’s for my great love! She’ll know what it means, so I want her to know it’s me right away!”

Three sentences that had condemned him to heaping piles of love letters for years to come. Three sentences that put stars and hearts in the eyes of the fangirls that approached him, a spoken or unspoken ‘is it me?’ That made him want to spit on the ground and laugh. He wanted to snarl at them–if they had to ask, the answer should be clear. The pushier ones upset him more. Regardless of their glamor, their attractiveness, the curves of their bodies weaseling closer in a plea for his touch, revulsion rose from his well at their confidence and presumption. He opted for physical release with eyes that met his without recognition; those glittering stars of hope. Even then, he couldn’t stomach their presence for long after he came, not finding the will to put up a caring front in them being anything but a body.

It’d been three years since he so proudly let those three sentences pass through his lips.

He’d searched. In the time between training, practicing, playing, winning–surely, surely, she would hunt for him, too. Hadn’t he become big enough? A beacon?

He countered each fruitless effort with a violent playstyle that would terrify a court. The dichotomy of his presence in matches versus the light, fun persona he gave to the public–to his fans, willingly or otherwise–was dazzling. He knew. He knew it was the allure, the chilling rage in his brown eyes as he played in contrast to the charming cat-like gaze he cast on reporters, sponsors, board members. Important money holders his father had so cunningly programmed the respect for in him. Luckily, he didn’t have to do much brown nosing personally–he liked to believe he was above it. Or could hire someone for it on his behalf.

His focus was devoted to the game. Improving. Becoming an impossible wall of an opponent. Someone adept at any and every position. As the right wing spiker, he was easily an ace–opponent sends a ball over you’re wary of? Send it to Kaz. Not wary? Send it to Kaz. A threatening, unpredictable server? Kaz will pick it up. He himself carried a deadly serve of his own–a game finisher, on more than one occasion.

The Australian team had come to resent him for it. Not for the fame it brought, the money–no, the jealousy. They hated the need to rely on him; hated that Kaz did not ask for them to use him politely. Nearly losing their final match as a team together solidified the hatred on both ends. The setter did not get the ball to him. Not just any ball. No, he had sent a fast moving target towards a weaker teammate, who had fumbled miserably and cost them the second set. Kaz had exploded at them both in the locker room, leaving their coach no choice but to break up the heated argument before blows could be exchanged. Although they came back in the third set, winning it in a breeze–Kaz did not let it go. The fight picked up where it had left off later on in a pub, as the two once again got into each other's faces and were broken apart. Kaz had stormed out, and signed onto the Japanese team the following day.

A very stern, serious, and wholly dedicated group of athletes. Wakajima Kazuo felt at home in his birth country, in many more ways than just on the court.

Aizawa Houzen spoke few words to him. As the setter, Kaz believed he’d be a vocally communicative type–typical, helpful. Instead, he found someone cold and stoic with hard eyes that relayed the messages his voice did not. The two formed a quick bond, Kaz meeting the ball wherever in the air Aizawa placed it, to his silent delight.

Of course, there were times the ball was not for him. Kaz understood that. Well timed feints could absolutely demoralize opponents–have them questioning, spinning, rethinking their formations. In his vanity and lust for control, he did know and recognize the utility of others in the game. There couldn’t be six of himself, after all.

Slamming into a middle blocker on their last day of practice in Tojo Yukina’s town had been the first full caliber mistake Kaz had made. The bruise was nothing compared to the harsh stare from Aizawa. The lecture from the coach, still nothing compared to the way his setter slammed the locker and curled his lip at him when he had gone to apologize. Figuring he had bigger problems for the evening, (saying goodbye to and ultimately leaving Yukina) Kaz let it go.

Aizawa, however, did not.

Kaz never had a hard time meeting his tosses. Today, their first day back on the court in preparation for the match in Italy–he could’ve sworn he was struggling to keep up. Somehow. The more he noticed it, the more frustration began to rise and take hold of his chest. Frustration at himself. An angry challenge remained in the setter’s eyes. Unrelenting.

And fuck, height be damned, Aizawa had to have known the distance in which he set the ball was impossible. Unrealistic. Kaz had made the jump, fingertips just barely grazing the ball–though it had lacked power. The ball fell, Kaz with it, grimacing and accepting the helping hand from the same middle blocker he had collided with the other day with a muttered ‘thanks.’

Their coach blared his whistle. A break could do them all good.

Aizawa had whirled on his heel, furious. Kaz’s expression twisted, and he quickly trailed behind the other as he took fuming steps into the locker room. The rest of the team did not follow.

“What’s your fucking problem?” Kaz hissed. The door had just barely shut behind them.

“What’s yours?” Aizawa seethed, fury in his normally lax features.

“How do you expect fuckers taller than me to get that shit? Least I touched it, yeah? Just fucking knicked it, so try and set the fucking thing right next time–”

“You–” Aizawa growled, closing the distance between them with furled fists. “Are not allowed to fuck up. So get whatever girl’s got your head all twisted out of it. You can play cute romantic loverboy off the court all you god damn please, alright? No one cares. I don’t care. The second you’re lunging into teammates and unable to hit my sets–you’re worthless to me, and to us. You’re not the only one with scores to settle and points to prove and dreams of the Olympic stage. I’m fine with using you to get there. So don’t ever fuck up. Ever.”

Aizawa shoulder checked him on the way out, leaving the striker to stand and stew in his own building rage. It wasn’t that obvious, was it?

Yes, he skipped that dinner.

Yes, he had missed a few precious hours of rest.

Yes, he had caught himself checking the clock too often.

Yes, he was last on the bus, head spinning after his farewell with Yukina.

And yes, he found himself wanting to call her now, to whine and bitch about drama with his setter even if she didn’t understand.

The whistle blew from inside the gym, and he took a breath, steading his thoughts best he could before running back out onto the court.

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scoutdrafted · 2 years

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Has this ever happened to you?

Have you ever met someone in the streets and felt like you know them... no, like they’re merely a forgotten friend? Have you ever watched the elements obey your wishes? What about something not quite elemental, but still somehow part of that order? Have you felt like you are being watched? Do you think the government has taken a sudden interest in your actions? Have you joined a new school club? Or have you rekindled relationships with people you haven’t spoken to in years?

If so, we may have answers. We may know what you are.

Aurora Hearts is both a story and a universe for many stories. While at this point it’s pretty detailed (after all, it’s 2 1/2 years in the making!), this post is a brief overview of what both the mainline WIP and the setting have in store if you choose to engage!

GENRE: Urban fantasy/paranormal. New adult. Magical girl inspired, but not necessarily magical girl.

SETTING: An alternate Earth. The main story takes place in the years 2019 and 2020, while side stories and fancontent currently spans from the 19th century into the near future.

FEATURES: A magic system that straddles the classifications of soft and hard, a world without COVID cause I don’t want to write about that, representation in many fields that is usually written by someone in that category (ie, queer characters by queer authors, disabled characters by disabled authors, worldbuilding specific to a location written by locals, etc).

What’s the main story?

The original work Aurora Hearts is written by me, Tabby (scoutdrafted) and was the starting point of what’s become in many ways a collaborative project.

PLOT: When 25 year old Marise Gaumont visits her online BFF Ainsley for the first time, she’s not expecting to get kidnapped and dragged to a secret government military base. She’s especially not expecting Ainsley to be the one doing the kidnapping. She’s especially especially not expecting to be conscripted into an ancient force that is (supposedly) keeping America safe from a supernatural threat.

Thrust into the Defense Company of the United States, Marise can’t help but find their recruitment practices... and basically everything else they do... reprehensible. When it’s revealed that two more of her friends are on the recruitment docket, she makes it her goal to free herself and her loved ones from the Company’s evil grasp. However, there’s two obstacles determined to block her way at any cost. One is the stoic and uptight Director Agnor, who was assigned to keep an eye on her.

The second? Her friends themselves.

FORMAT: AH WILL NEVER BE TRADITIONALLY PUBLISHED, and is available online at its own dedicated website. The story is written similarly to a novel but in an episodic format. One episode is about an hour’s worth of content, with 6-8 episodes making up an Act (roughly the size of a novel) and four acts making a season. There are three seasons planned.

Ideally, AH updates weekly. We are currently on a hiatus while I focus on school and refill the backlog, but our community is still active.

What’s the universe?

The coolest thing about the universe is that it’s really become quite accidentally collaborative. We have a Discord community and there are members from several countries, many of whom have created their own local versions of the Defense Company (the magic governing organization), their own characters, and their own rules and variations for the universe. We even have some people writing their own stories in the universe! While the general universe rules are too long to overview here, you are invited to come join us at our Discord server and hear all about it there! :D

Where can I find you?

aurorahearts.net and https://discord.gg/wKYHvTdPqV

#wip intro #magical girl #writeblr #writer community #writing community #aurora hearts

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wrath-bob-aken · 2 years

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From a Mixed Origin System

(We saw a few other posts like this and felt the need to speak of our own experience)

Being a mixed origin system in any community is difficult. We were lucky that we stumbled upon an endo friendly server when we were discovering ourselves. We've been invited to servers before and been kicked out for being mixed origin.

I don't really think that's fair, especially not when we've had a proper diagnosis of OSDD. People are so aggressive and adamant about people being trauma survivors as a system that they miss the whole point.

That being: if people are a system, legitimately, whether they know/do they have trauma or don't or whatever, they are still systems and you should at least try respecting that. It's completely ok to believe that systems can only be formed from trauma as long as you're respectful about it. Like the only anti-endo headmate we have who, while isn't sure what to believe, still stops and thinks about it and is in no way forceful over his opinion.

Granted, I'd still prefer if anti-endo wasn't a thing. I think it really gets stupid when mixed origin systems are also shunned because is that not some sort of proof that actual non-traumagenic systems might exist?

We discovered our system.. I think three years ago? Maybe. And it actually started really interesting. Our original (who is no longer with us) went through two years of severe maladaptive daydreaming which caused a headmate's existence as a non traumagenic member. Then we discovered a headmate that's been here longer (though we don't know from how young) and he is traumagenic. Thus we're a Mixed Origin System. And we've sort of just had headmates walk in since then. We don't always end up with headmates we want or like either.

We've met an anti endo that actually surprised us and was okay with us being heavily endogenic because endo just means "not formed from trauma" which means headmates forming after traumatic situations should just as well be considered endos.

We also had an extremely sad encounter where we finally met someone with headmates from our source. We were SO excited to befriend them but.. once we told them we were mixed origin they refused to listen and stopped talking to us entirely. Which saddened us heavily.

It's just sad there should be a divide at all. I've had to block so many anti endos and follow the anti endo tag to literally just do that and keep them as much off our page as possible. Because honestly I don't want a fight, we here in this system just wish to be asked of our experiences.

I think the problem is that (some) anti-endos are against endo systems that act like being a system is all fun and games. Like it's so haha funny and great to be a system. And perhaps they feel that is mockery of them. Systems aren't always fun, headmates don't always get along and it happens that one or two come in and fake their way through. But even we endos avoid any idea of openly fakeclaiming considering our own experiences with that. We can't say what anyone else is experiencing after all.

#actually plural #actually endogenic #mixed origin system #fictive #fictive heavy system #tw: syscourse #endo friendly #endo safe #GothicGhost system #wrath speaks #obake speaks

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discordhelp · 2 years

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hi mods of discord help! i have a question: after christmas, my roleplay group has like .. died. and no matter how often i try to gather engagement through posts in the group chat or plot calls, no one responds and it's starting to make me really sad tbh. do you have any ideas on how to like spike up activity?

hey there, anon! we're sorry to hear that your rp has reached a plateau leading into the new year. believe us when we say we have been in your shoes before, and though we wish there was a definite answer regarding how to revive something that's dropped in activity, neither of us have had perfect success when it comes to trying to do exactly that.

this got a little long, so i'm putting this under a read more, but if lurkers are reading this and want to provide their two cents, please drop a reply or hop into our inbox! we'd love to hear more opinions on this.

some advice i can give you is to perhaps be a little stricter with your activity rules for a week or so, whether that means implementing activity checks instead of interest checks or you can add requirements for your members to reach in order to be eligible for interest checks. this can include posting / reacting to starter calls every other week, interacting with three different muns every week, replying to closed starters that were written for you within a week, etc. and if these aren't met, you can issue these members a warning, in which if they haven't met the activity requirements in the next 24 hours, you have the right to remove them from your server.

within this time, i suggest throwing together a mandatory task for everyone to do! this can be as simple as a muse playlist, headcanons, or making a pinterest board. people love exploring their muses, so i think this can offer some inspiration that might've been lost over holiday break!

we also love plot drops / events in this house! so perhaps creating a mini plot drop for everyone's muses to react to can boost interest! it'll give everyone a collective thing to write about and encourage plotting / starter calls.

again, these aren't going to be end all, be all solutions, since every rp is different. just know that this is a team effort and if you've done all you can do to try and recharge your server with nothing given in return, it is not your fault. an admin can only do so much and if members aren't there to put in the effort you're giving them, you're valid for feeling disheartened. but! if anything, especially if you love the concept of your rp and you don't want to give up on it, there is no harm in closing the group temporarily to then revamping it with maybe one or two fresh ideas added to the plot or application or skeletons / muses to garner new interest!

we're wishing you all the luck, anon, and sending you all the good vibes! if you'd like a shoutout for your rp, feel free to pop in our inbox again and we'd love to give one for you!

#rpt #rph #rpc #discord rp #asks: all.#asks: faq.

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haleweek · 3 years

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Hale Appreciation Week is TEN DAYS away!

Join us for a week of celebrating our favorite born werewolves, the Hale Family! June 21-27, 2021.

Confused about the themes? Maybe need a little inspiration? You can read more about the prompts for Hale Week below. If you still have any questions, feel free to drop us a message. Our ask box is always open. You can also join our Discord server to talk about the Hales any time.

Please visit our pinned post for more information about participating in this event.

The themes for the week are the following:

DAY ONE June 21: Werewolf Traditions

We hear a lot about werewolves on Teen Wolf, but very little about pack life or Hale family history. For this prompt, we want you to change that. Are there family traditions in the Hale pack when a member comes of age? Is this a Wolves are Known AU where wolves have traditions separate from humans? Do they celebrate holidays like Yule or Beltane? Ever want to write a Lupercalia fic? Or maybe a Mating Run? Go forth and write. Think outside the box. DAY TWO June 22: Family, Found Family, and Brotps

For this day, we want you to focus on non-romantic relationships on Teen Wolf. Derek bonding more with his betas, the dynamics between Laura and her siblings, Cora and Boyd being besties, Derek finding family again after the fire. The options are limitless. Queerplatonic relationships are also acceptable for this prompt! DAY THREE June 23: Rarepairs and Poly Ships

“Rarepairs” in this instance are any ships outside of Sterek and Steter. We want to give the other pairings their due. Feel free to pick a threesome or moresome. Write that Poly Pack fic you wish to see in the world. Go nuts (or don’t, who are we to tell you how to write?) Please remember to properly tag all kinks, warnings, and/or possible triggers. DAY FOUR June 24: Full Moon

This can be anything from specific pack traditions done every full moon, a ritual performed by all werewolves everywhere, or one single full moon where something momentous happens. Maybe its Peter’s POV the night of the lunar eclipse. Maybe the remaining Hales are simply basking in the feeling of having a pack again. Whatever you choose, the only requirement is that the full moon, somehow, be involved. DAY FIVE June 25: Hale Headcanons

We all have headcanons when it comes to our favorite characters. Whether that idea is backed up by canon or just something that popped into your head while reading fanfiction, today is the day to share those headcanons with the fandom. What happened to Malia the whole time she was a coyote? What’s so special about the Camaro? This can be one specific headcanon, or a fanwork surrounding several. DAY SIX June 26: “I’ve waited three years, I could wait another hour.”

This prompt is a little different. We wanted a prompt outside of the norm, to see what people come up with. Maybe Laura is a ghost who was finally able to contact Derek three years after her death. Maybe it’s the story of how soulmates Talia and Papa Hale, who met once but didn’t see each other again for three years. Maybe Peter finally found that gourmet burger place he’s spent three years dreaming about, but it doesn’t open for another hour. Be as serious or as silly as you want. DAY SEVEN June 27: Free Day - Dealer’s Choice

What it says on the tin. Make any fanwork you want. As long as it features the Hale family, go forth and create.

#mod post #hale week 2021 #haleofaweek #teen wolf #teen wolf event #derek hale #peter hale #laura hale #cora hale #talia hale #papa hale #themes

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wonderofasunrise · 2 years

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Hello, I'm M! I'm an Indonesian bisexual woman in my late 20s and I'm the Chief of Emergency Medicine in the ER Fic and Fandom Discord server. It's a fun and inclusive space run by six queer women who met through the ER fandom - for all things ER and for everyone in the community.

What drew you to being a part of the server? Zoë came up with the idea of a Discord server for ER fanfic writers last year, and I was immediately sold on the concept of a space where fic writers could discuss writing stuff including different AUs and headcanons. Over time the server has evolved into a space for all things ER where people can share other types of content (fanart, gifs, memes etc) and talk about various aspects of the show and the fandom in general. I enjoy having good discussions with other ER fans, and while our favourite characters/ships/headcanons may differ we always discuss things in a civil (and often humorous) manner without attacking those with different opinions. In addition, as someone whose background is grossly under-represented in (Western) media I love being able to offer different perspectives on things related to the show like medicine, education, and healthcare to people who may not be constantly exposed to them outside the server.

Who is your favourite ER character? Kerry Weaver - no doubt. LGBTQ representation in Western media has grown so much since her groundbreaking storyline on the show, yet she remains the only queer TV character I can fully relate to. She's a queen, what can I say?

In addition, I always have a soft spot for Susan Lewis, whom I ship with Kerry greatly, as her level-headedness quite often offers balance to some of the show's storylines. Then there's Abby Lockhart, whose character development impresses me so much, and Carol Hathaway who was the reason I started watching the show in the first place (can you tell I'm a simp for Julianna Margulies?).

Which lesser-used channel on the server do you particularly appreciate? Being a non-native English speaking fic writer for an American show can be...well, challenging, so "translation-localisation" is great to ensure accuracy when it comes to vocabulary and other related stuff, especially as I'm not accustomed to using American spelling, terms, and slang words in my writing lol

Favourite scene, episode, season? Gosh, this is hard... One scene that I can always replay is, unsurprisingly, Kerry's coming out speech (which I have memorised lol). Another one is Robert Romano signing, "Take care of your dad." to Peter Benton's deaf son Reese which is just heartwarming in so many ways. I also have a soft spot for one particular underrated scene—from "Just as I Am", when Kerry is telling Susan about meeting her biological mother. Susan is genuinely happy to hear it, and her reaction shows how far they've come along as colleagues and wives. As for favourite episodes, "Love's Labor Lost" is a masterpiece though not one that I can watch over and over again, and I have a special place in my heart for "Secrets & Lies" for shits and giggles. Tbh I'm not sure what my favourite season is, but I usually say season 3 because it's the first season featuring both my ladies Sherry Stringfield and Laura Innes as main cast members 😂

Have you ever taken an IRL trip to the ER? Exactly three times. Once when I got dengue fever (#tropicalcountrythingz) at 14 and had to spend a couple of hours in the ER while waiting for an available bed, once when I was travelling to my mum's hometown and had an annoying allergic reaction to something I ate, and most recently about a couple of years ago I was on my way to a work event and very suddenly fell and sprained my ankle which landed me in the ER and caused me to use a crutch for a few weeks. Every now and then my affected leg bothers me (as I have a history of injuries in the same leg) and on worse days I use a crutch or a cane—hand me a lab coat and I'd do the perfect Asian!Kerry cosplay, basically.

If you’d like to join the server you can do so using the link below - everyone is welcome!

Join Link: https://discord.gg/9wnkspZvaJ

INCLUSIVE

We at County do not tolerate discrimination against other members for any reason.

Please be mindful that this server is open to anyone who agrees to the rules. This means members may be from any background, ethnicity, faith, gender, nationality, sexuality, and time zone! Across the mods we don’t actually have a single person from the USA or Canada! (Minors are welcome, however, only in accordance with Discord and their host country’s rules. Please ensure you check the “Safe” section of rules - posting tomorrow.)

We have received complaints that some individuals speak over others’ experiences living outside of a white, western experience. Therefore, please be mindful of how you speak about your experiences, ensuring that you do not use any positions of privilege to speak over others.

We have “physicians-of-color”, “girls-club”, and "ada-compliance" channels which are safe spaces for, respectively, POC, women and women-aligned non-binary people, and those who identify as disabled (inclusive of all disabilities.).

We are open to creating new channels for other groups’ identities, please just ask.

When posting any content that may be harmful or triggering to others, please use Content Warnings (CWs). Where a CW is required, please create a Thread by hovering over a message and pressing the '#' with a speech bubble.

If a content warning is not being used, anyone can say the word 'sharps' to trigger a bot response that will remind people in the conversation to create a new thread with the CW as the thread title. (The person who has said 'sharps' is under no obligation to explain themselves, however, they may suggest a reason if they choose to do so.)

Inside threads, any sensitive language or content that is shared under a CW should be suffixed and with '##################################' at the end of each post so that this content does not appear on the main channel chat.

Any further questions should be addressed in a message to a mod, or alternatively tag @Admin. If you have an issue with something that’s being discussed, or with another member, DM one of us.

#er #nbc er #er fandom #er fic and fandom discord

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talesofphantombandits · 3 years

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Zero to Six ~ The Death of Six - Edited version.

Greetings and salutations! So I know this isn’t what everyone wanted but people are still reading Zero to Six and I’m honestly so grateful that a year on, people are still loving this series. But I never felt like I wrote it properly, the chapters where always too short and I felt like they were never detailed enough so I wanted to bring to you an edited version (that probably still won’t be perfect.) one that I’m more satisfied with. I will be keeping the original version up just in case people prefer that one, maybe one day I’ll take it down? who knows but yeah so enjoy! <3 P.s I’ve missed you all so much and I’ve really missed this series. Hopefully sometime soon the Prequel will be out which I have started and named ‘Before there was Six, there was Zero.’

Characters: Four X Zero (OC) Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c

Zero to Six ~ Part 2. Edited Version. Masterlist.

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m not stalling.” Zero could practically hear the smirk in Fours voice over the coms. “I’m simply just working myself up to it.”

She laughed. “You always say that, and you’re always stalling.” She was playing on his last nerve, she knew it but this would be good for Four and entertainment for her. He always worked better when he was frustrated and no one stressed him out quite like Zero.

Four had been doing parkour for most of his life, or that’s what he told them. Yet he was still fearful every single time, still I guess that’s what made him great at it the fear of always falling gave him the adrenaline he needed to make the jumps.

Another breathless laugh fluttered through Zeros left ear. “Don’t test me darling.” Now it was his turn to make Zero sweat, this always happened. Zero would insult and tease and Four would flirt right back, although most of the team were used to it by now they still broke them up from time to time.

“Whatever monkey boy, just be ready for when Six gets his ass in gear!” She clicked her tongue. “I can hear you mocking me asshole, remember I hold the key here I can make your life a living hell with just one click of a button.”

“You already make my life hell darling, But I live for it everyday.”

“Swear to god Four, you’re a pain in my ass.” She mumbled as she typed away at the computer trying to figure out their next move so she could be ready with any instruction they needed.

“I’m sure your ass is pretty fine, I can’t wait to see it someday.” She could practically feel the smirk.

“Yeah? And I can't wait to punch the smirk off that pretty face one day, only you could be in a life or death situation and be thinking about my virtual ass.”

“Wait, did you just admit to fancying me Zero? Guys she called me handsome, I think I’m getting somewhere.”

“Go for Four!” Saved by the bell it seems, One’s voice rang through coms. Zero silently thanked god for she did fancy Four, who wouldn’t fancy that absolute Greek god of a man? With that honey voice and the moves he had! moves he could use on her, she shook her head hoping the images of him forming in her head would magically fall out of her brain never to return, but she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Shut the hell up, stop thinking about ways to seduce Zero and get your ass down here we need you!” And just like that, it was go time. “NOW!”

Zero had been working with this team for a while now, but she was more on the surveillance side of the missions, which meant that she had never officially met the team face to face. The only person she had actually met was One, who had recruited her. He would visit from time to time, she liked to think they had a special bond. She was in fact the first person in need that One had found and ever since then he had become a sort of father figure to her.

Two was next who was sort of cold at times, Zero put this down to her CIA training but she had never been anything but caring towards Zero. Then she found Three, a hitman who she was reluctant to look into at first but she knew now it was the best thing for her and the team. Despite his past he was one of the most sweet and caring men she’d ever met, and he never failed to make her smile on a bad day. Ever since recruiting Four, she felt the atmosphere in the group shift slightly, there was nothing bad about him but they both couldn’t ignore the growing attraction between them, and this was just over cyber space. She then found her best friend in Five, she was different from the rest. Not as violent and rash but still amazing at what she did and protecting herself and others, Zero knew if she ever needed someone the first person she’d go to was Five.

Six was her latest recruit, one that she knew was extremely talented in not only driving but in all things mechanical too, they had chatting a few times about servers and bots and he’d promised her a round in their shared favourite video game once this mission was complete.

She’d be lying to herself and everyone else if she said she didn’t want to meet them all in person, they were the closest thing she had, had to family. However she knew that if she was to meet them nothing could ever come of her and Four. One would definitely not allow it, and most likely lock her straight back up.

Still they were sort of this dysfunctional family, and she was definitely the odd one out. She couldn’t remember the last time she had, had a normal conversation with someone who wasn’t ‘dead’ the only time she was allowed to leave the flat was when One said it was moving day. He didn’t like her staying in one flat too long, she must have moved at least four times this year already. While she was alone in her flat eating ready meals they were all back at base eating together, she sometimes pretended she was there eating with them. Three telling her some stupid story that no one else is listening to because they have heard it at least a thousand times, but she would just be so happy to hear his beautiful accent in person that she would listen to anything he was telling her. How she wished she could hug three in real life. The closest she had gotten to eating with them was over coms, sometimes they would leave the line open for debriefing but it still made her feel like an outcast.

“I’m coming down!” Everything was going wrong, Six had gone the wrong way. Which Zero wasn’t surprised to see as everyone in the car was shouting at each other, she sat there in her gaming chair drinking Dr Pepper and enjoying her fried chicken meal while everyone was losing their minds in the field. Maybe getting to stay in the comfort of her flat wasn’t so bad after all?

“Good boy.” She praised Four. “Finally putting those parkour skills to use, other than robbing some innocent person.”

Even before he started to speak she could tell he’d started to run because his speech came out in huffs. “Shut up, at least I can do parkour which makes me cooler than a girl who sits at her computer all day.”

She had to laugh. “What are you? Five years old? Try again when you can think up better come backs, I can’t take you seriously right now.”

Wherever One moved Zero was never too far away from where the team worked, the first time the rest of the team worked this out was when Zero first used the drone to help navigate them someplace safe. That was also the first time she finally got to see Four in action, the image of him running along the rooftops like a monkey in the jungle both amused her and impressed her. Hence the nickname she had given him. But there were also times when he would have close calls, where he had nearly fallen to his death that’s when the breath would get knocked out of her and she would only calm when she knew he was safe on the ground again.

“Right over you guys.” He said in a strained voice while leaping onto another roof.

“So guys, just look out for the flying monkey above you. That will be Four.” Most of the teasing with Four was just to pass the time while they were out in the field having fun and mainly it was just way too fun to hear him get so frustrated.

“Zero, that’s not helping us.” One said in a sing-song voice.

“Maybe it’s not helping you, but it is definitely helping me pass the time.” All she could hear was a disappointed grunt from One which just made her chuckle,it was also very fun to piss One off.

“Six! SIX! Wrong way god damn it!”

She cringed at how loud Four had screamed down the coms. “Come back! I’ve got an idea.”

“Ladies and gentleman, for the first time in his life Four has an idea!” She said mindlessly typing away trying to find the best route for them to escape by.

“You know what Zero, when we finally meet I’m going to run that fine ass of yours into the ground.” He all but growled.

“You can try monkey boy, but you’ll have to catch me first.” She smirked to herself, she secretly hoped that, that was more of a promise than a mere threat. “Oh, challenge accepted sweetheart. I’d love to have a game of cat and mouse with you.”

“You two do remember that we are on a mission right now, right?” Six moaned. “What with you two flirting, and these absolute idiots fighting beside me in the car. I’m finding it very hard to concentrate on driving!” With every word Six’s voice got more agitated and louder.

“We are not flirting!” Both Four and Zero exclaimed together.

“Aww they even said it at the same time!” Zero just rolled her eyes at One’s teasing. “No one cares, now both of you shut up so we can all get out of here.”

“That’s it Six, keep coming towards me!” The drone was filming just above the action, once she’d wiped her hands and they were free from the grease on her chicken. She finally realised what Four was about to do.

Suddenly the car that was tailing Six was being impaled by five metal tubes. “God, okay I’m definitely done eating now. That was so gross.”

Then the screaming started to fill the coms. “Guy’s, what the hell are you doing?” All Zero could make out was something about an eyeball.

“This is so stressful! Can everyone stop arguing and speaking over each other?!” Zero was getting agitated now.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE STRESSED?! I’M TRYING TO DRIVE WHILST ALSO TRYING NOT TO KILL ANYONE, DID I MENTION I ALSO HAVE AN EYEBALL ON MY LEG?!” Six all but screamed down the coms, loud enough that Zero had to remove her earpiece until she was sure he was done with his rant.

“Six sweetie,” she said as calmly as she could, trying not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

“DO I SOUND LIKE I’M OKAY ZERO?!” She knew he would say that, she finally let out the chuckle she was trying to hold as to not irritate him further.

“Sorry I was just asking. I swear I‘m not using your painful situation to make myself feel better.” She held her hands up in defence even though he couldn’t see her.

He just let out a huff. “I’m going to ignore you now Zero, you’re pissing me off more than these guys are.”

After the commotion things went quiet for a while, there was now a helicopter tailing them so all effort and concentration went on losing it. While there was little chatter over the coms the main sound that dominated the air was the gunfire, Zero silently prayed to herself while she watched the drone that everyone would make it out of their first real mission alive. One finally found a route for them, conveniently inside of a building that would shelter them enough to lose the aerial surveillance they were under.

“The drone will meet you on the other side, good luck and please try not to make too much of a mess in there Six. There are some priceless statues in there we would all like preserving.” Just as Zero finished her sentence she heard a loud crash.

“You were saying?” Six chuckled nervously.

“You didn’t.” Zero stared shocked at her screen, mouth wide open.

One was the one to respond to her though. “Unfortunately he did, don’t worry we’re all just as disappointed in him.”

“Okay we finally lost the chopper, Zero do you have a visual?” One asked surprisingly calmly.

“You mean the bright green car, kind of hard to miss. Good choice Six you really blend in.” Zero laughed. “I see you, there are two black vans heading your way. Shake them off then head to the arranged rendezvous spot where Three will be waiting for you.”

Six’s voice was strained when he spoke. “Listen, fast and convenient was what I was told to get. So that’s what I got.”

Zero would have responded but she was more distracted by the sight of Four on a skateboard holding a launcher. He jumped off the board and leaped up onto the stone wall just as one of the black vans passed, he aimed and shot, never missing the mark. She was impressed for a moment but then saw the smug smile on his face, he looked directly into the drone and winked at Zero. She just scoffed, what an absolute show off.

“Seems like we have a superhero on our team.” Six laughed impressed.

Zero scoffed again, but this time loud enough so everyone could hear it over the coms. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a superhero.”

“Then what would you call me darling? A Greek god?” This is the thing about Four, he’d never met Zero in person but he knew exactly how to push her buttons. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the banter from time to time.

“Hurm more like a vein asshole that thinks far too highly of himself.” She snapped back.

But he just laughed, the complete opposite of what she was expecting. “I mean everyone else loves me, might as well love myself too.” She rolled her eyes, She really couldn’t blame him though he was a very handsome man but no way in hell was she ever going to tell him that. “One day you’ll fall for the charm that everyone else falls for. I know you’re already obsessed with me.”

“In your dreams Four.”

“It already happens in my dreams, every night darling. I’d be happy to elaborate later on in a private chat.” Zero audibly gagged.

“Guy’s can we please cut out the flirting until after the mission? We’re nearly there and I don’t think any of us want to hear whatever this is.” One sounded tired and Zero just laughed at how much their fighting annoyed the other members.

“Yes boss!” She added in a salute even though One couldn’t see her, he could feel she was mocking him.

Just then the drone cut out. “Shit! Someone shot down the drone. You’re on your own from here guys.”

There was a commotion through the coms, one that didn’t sound at all good. Car tyres screeched, bullets rain down on the metal of the car Zero held her breath as she waited for anything. Even just a breath so she knew at least someone was still alive, her heart stopped when the line had been silent for too long she had to know what happened.

“Guys, come on talk to me. What’s going on? Why are you all being so silent? What happened?” There was another breath of silence and her mind went straight to Four, she shook her head. No! She wasn’t going to let herself think about that, she scolded herself for getting too attached to the little shit.

The was a crackle over the line, Five cleared her throat. “Six is dead, we’re in the van, the space is clear.”

Zero sucked in a breath, she felt like her lungs were burning. “What?”

“Zero listen to me, you need to turn off coms now.” One must have turned from the group, he was using his quiet, serious voice. “I’ll handle this okay, I’ll check back in with you later.”

Just like that he was gone, she clicked the switch to turn off almost absentmindedly. She sat back in her chair, only snapping back to reality when she felt something wet fall on her hand. She softly touched her face to find her cheeks were wet, when had she started to cry? Six wasn’t someone she knew in person, he had been the last member of the team but still a very important piece of their puzzle. She thought about the game he had promised to play with her after the mission, this would never come to pass now. Now he was really dead, and it was all her fault.

For the first time Zero started to think about the whole team and if One’s master plan of being ghosts to take down the world’s evil was such a good idea after all, why had it taken a real death in the team for her to even think about this. What if it had been Four, she didn’t think she could live with herself if anything ever happened to Four, maybe it was a good thing they had never met. Seeing him in person, hearing his deep honey voice, feeling his warmth would definitely make her fall deeper then she already was. He was just a voice over the coms but behind that was a real person, one that probably wouldn’t even share the same feelings towards her. So she thought ‘Yes, It’s a good thing I’m behind this computer screen and not with them in person.’ She had to try to distance herself from now on.

......

Just wanted to say one last Thank You! for the continued support for this story <3

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy four #6 underground #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground four #6 underground fanfic #6 underground billy #four #four fanfiction #four fanfic #four x reader #four x oc #four x zero #billy x reader #billy x oc #billy x scout #6 underground x reader

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pinkchanelbag · 3 years

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— there’s no one else; chapter two.

a jean kirstein x reader mafia au.

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series summary: a boy caught in a web with his survival depending on balancing niceties between his predators. a prim girl on thin ice that leads down the path of least resistance. no one too close and no one too far, no allegiance unquestioned, and no child whose value and future goes without evaluation like a playing card that determines their worth. to be destined for big things is more like being doomed to them, but that’s the way it goes. it’s just family matter.

chapter summary: the party begins.

wc: 1.9k.

cw: still nothing lol

note: putting this out short notice cause it’s JEANBOYS BIRTHDAYYY BABYYY anyway enjoy heeheee and my apologies for the slow plot thus far i swear it picks up trust me bro.

the venue is obnoxiously grand. the garden is more akin to a football field than anything else. there is no central lighting, but rather pure white string lights everywhere, everywhere. tucked behind and underneath tables and wrapped around trees and laying in the overhead greenery and in the bushes that act as walls. wherever you look, your eyes are strained, and you’re sure the dining hall can be seen from the moon.

speaking of the dining hall, the organizers cleverly blocked off the front entrance to the building so that one is forced to walk the expanse of the entire garden—surely to ooh and aah at its elegant taste—in order to get inside through the back door entrance. in other words, having to greet every single member of the family before so much as putting your clutch down.

you apply a friendly, attentive expression to your face each time pieck stops to greet someone new, having mastered the art of being engaged but not so engaged it’s troublesome, while in reality being completely disengaged in any way. as pieck converses with a bulky man drinking wine and you pick apart the key points (“we don’t got the ammo to make deals with top contractors—legal team in shambles—not good to have a weak spot”), really you are letting your eyes wander over the shrubbery which has been trimmed to perfection. yes, the lights are a pain and the band is too loud so early in the event, and there is not enough walking space between the bushes so people squeeze together to reach the large clearing of the garden. a perfectly obnoxious party, except you can’t help but appreciate the greenery. somehow, it is the only thing about this evening that doesn’t seem ridiculous. or maybe you’re just unusually irritated tonight.

your eyebrows knit so slightly at this realization. why are you being so disagreeable? impatience and intolerance seem to grow in your chest for no particular reason. you make a note to identify the source of your mood, and quickly resolve it. there’s work to be done.

karina braun is a kind, opinionated sheep of a woman. she is liked by all, and not because she’s particularly easy to like, but rather because she’s hard to hate. stuck in her times and not having much intellectual value, she is possibly the most important woman in all the families. being the mother of reiner braun and the head of the braun-galliard family, gives her luxury without responsibility. you’ve only met her once before, and she possessed the kind of ignorance many privileged older women have. but still she’s kind, so you can’t justify how she makes you weary.

her birthday, funnily enough, constitutes one of the very few gatherings that frowns upon trying to discuss family matter during the events, unlike a young girl’s birthday. it has to do with respect, you suppose.

you spend your first half-hour at the party hovering around pieck as she makes small talk with associates, becoming increasingly nervous at your lack of breakthrough in communication with the family. you know the most important thing is your encounter with karina, and that will open up further talks with others, but you stall to approach her, imperceptibly steering pieck further away from the centre table where the older woman sits. not yet.

“are you going to keep leading me through the same semi-circle, or are you just going to go talk to her?” pieck asks calmly. you curse her intelligence in your mind.

“i’m just nervous,” you murmur, smiling politely at a group of men at a distance that eyes you like the business deal you are.

“you should be, but that doesn’t change that you have to do it.” your eyes flick to look at the woman beside you for a moment. her expression is not encouraging or consoling, nor is it unsettling. it’s fitting. what you and pieck have is less than friendship but more than acquaintanceship. often you feel as thought she’s reading your emotions like an open book, which can be scary considering how many of them you really hide. but if and when she sees them, she doesn’t seem to care, whether they’re incriminating or worthy of sympathy. she sees you, and that is all. it’s not a comfort, nor a curse.

“what are you waiting for?” she says, but it’s a genuine question rather than a push to complete the task at hand. you realize you’re waiting for porco. you want porco at your side. you want his strength and his jagged-edged ambition, and the forcefulness that makes you do the things your heart has no energy for.

“i just think it would be better if the boys were here,” you breathe. again, pieck sees your meaning, and your fright, and leaves it be.

for the next eternity, you drink champagne and stretch back your memory to know if all parties are this boring once you become an adult, or if the braun family has a particular talent for making you crave the sight of paint drying. the closest thing to entertainment—and not the hired folk who attempt to call themselves singers—is gabi’s voice, which can be heard no matter where in the garden you stand. she tells stories, strikes up arguments, and gathers food and drink with her friends, all at top volume. for some reason, you don’t find amusement in this either, and really start to worry about this attitude problem you’ve got this night. to add on, porco’s meeting seems to stretch painfully long. it was a short-notice meeting, which either meant something very very good or very very bad—more so when he told you he was being picked up for it by reiner, colt, and annie. some of the most important family members gathering for an emergency meeting means trouble. your anxiety bubbles in your stomach, and you worry that your not approaching the woman of the hour is reaching a point where it might be seen as—rude.

the guests are alerted that dinner is ready. it’s not long before each person has situated themselves along the tables that line the large garden. the seating plan is loosely maintained, but you have nowhere near the entitlement to mingle among other tables. you find yours and stay at it, and it’s only then that you get an idea of just how many people are at this event. each table is packed, holding roughly six people, and there are too many to count in the chaos, but they create a semi-rectangle in three respective rows. you make out countless bodies but few faces, just an endless sea of tuxedos and lovely dresses. at the front of the garden is the head table, where karina sits alone save gabi’s bouncing body going back and forth. your table is is only a few feet from hers, but you take a seat that puts your back to her front so you don’t make the unforgivable mistake of accidental eye contact. you’re to sit with porco, and his table—the galliard table—is the one closest in importance to the braun table. you are the only one at the table, further reminder of porco’s tardiness. the longer you fiddle with the white cloth on the surface, the more you worry about what exactly the meeting could mean.

and then pieck comes and sits across from you without a word. as always, you know it’s only family matter—the concern that you look out of place—motivating her and not your obvious discomfort, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

as the servers stream into the garden like white-clad troops armed with dome platters, a champagne glass’s unmistakeable ding ding ding catches the attention of the guests. a table near karina’s opposite side, not quite flanking her but near enough to display some importance. a man stands with his glass raised, looking unfitting for the position with the way his arm hesitantly dips and re-straightens. bertholdt, yet another notable name in braun-galliard (and it’s your job to know all the names), seems to be the only person around able to give the welcome speech. it’s easy to listen only selectively to the announcements and shoutouts, disregarding all the thank yous and remember whens and listening in for honored guests (who are honored because they’ve proven themselves useful). luckily for you, bertholdt’s clumsy speech has a clear distinction between the two categories, his eyes downturned to cards in which he lists off important guests and whatever thing they did to end up on he list before him.

“a special welcome to general theo magath of the mexican military, who has been so generous to the family’s trade routes…” bertholdt’s words are careful, partly because of the nature of the things he is sharing, but also because all his actions have been careful since his fall from grace. formerly one of the most reliable heavy men in the family, bertholdt’s reputation was shot to hell when an important—very important—family member was killed on his watch. despite having happened years and years ago now, it took extensive efforts to just convince the higher-ups that he wasn’t in bed with the killer. it’s common knowledge that bertholdt’s incident was the first and last time someone “had it easy” from braun-galliard due to his close friendship with reiner himself.

“an especially relieving guest to see here tonight—“

and—finally—the stragglers stalk into the clearing. like most others, you hear of their arrival from the ripple of murmurs long before you see them, seeing as their whereabouts are blocked off by tables and bushes. a few people stand up, but are quickly beckoned to sit down again and redirect their attention to the speaker, who clears his throat nervously.

“carry on, bertholdt,” reiner’s affecting voice breaks through the space, and it’s enough to settle the audience, or at least have them pretend to pay attention while the late-comers shuffle through the outskirts of the tables to find their seats. bertholdt proceeds slowly.

“…a person i’m sure we will all come to rely on during this chaotic time…”

you catch the first glimpse of porco as he turns the final corner of the rectangle, reiner walking before him and colt and annie just behind. reiner is the first to arrive to his table, the invitees seeming to hold their chests a little taller for the family’s true head—in every way except on paper—as he slides into his seat and presses a kiss to his mother’s cheek.

“…a great legacy behind him and a bright career ahead, and we’re surely glad he’s kicked it off in our company…” bertholdt goes on. you and porco’s eyes meet, and immediately you know something is the matter; you’re just not sure if it’s fury or ecstasy in his gleam.

colt and annie find their seats in the table just after yours, and finally porco is near enough to see—and ignore—the look of alarmed curiosity on your face. he arrives to the table, giving pieck a look of “we’ll talk later,” and briefly stopping behind your chair. his calloused hands are on your arms for a moment, running up and down comfortingly.

“—a happy welcome to—“

“hey, doll.”

“—jean kirstein.”

and your eyes flick away from porco’s and into the crowd of faceless bodies, and the anxieties that kept your brain buzzing with life halt and collapse to the floor of your mind like dead flies.

jean?

#nia.tne #nia.jean #nia.txt #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschstein #aot x reader #aot #attack on titan #snk #porco galliard x reader #porco galliard #pieck finger

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monstersandmaw · 4 years

Text

Male drider x female reader - WIP, Part Two (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

After a teasing Part One last week, here's 3.5k words of Part Two, featuring two poems, neither of which are my own... Things get off to a very rocky start between the lord of Widowsweb Court and the reader, with the drider not exactly behaving in a manner befitting a lord... Naril, the firbolg gardener that everyone seemed rather taken with, continues to be a complete cinnamon roll.

Hope you enjoy, despite 'his lordship's' terrible manners and behaviour... Part Three has just gone up on Patreon today. He also got dubbed ‘cranky spooder’ over on our Discord server, which I adore.

Enjoy x

On the day you first met the lord of Widowsweb Court, you’d opened up one of the enormous windows to breathe a little life back into the stuffy library.

Having spent four weeks getting to know the collection as it was, you’d taken the opportunity to dust a little as well. That had the added advantage that you were now able to let the air back in without fear of choking clouds of dust billowing up into your face. For a house as enormous as Widowsweb Court, you had been surprised to learn that the staff was so minimal - no more than Naril and his father, Chiara the housekeeper, a valet of the lord whom you never saw, and two other members of staff; one a cook, and one a maid.

Standing beside the heavy, ragged old curtain that dragged its hem on the floorboards like a sullen teenager scuffing their heels, you sighed and stared listlessly out at the enormous park beyond. There was something melancholy about it. The grounds were meticulously kept by Naril, not a leaf out of place, and yet it was deserted.

There should have been parties, the voices of people laughing, the chink of glasses and the murmur of conversation in the evenings as people gathered to watch the sun go down over the stunning vista beyond. Music should have floated across the terrace behind the house, washing out to mingle with the dancing splash of water in the fountain, but that basin with its fantasy carvings and rearing stone centaurs, laughing fauns, and wide-winged harpies remained silent and dry.

“Why is it so sad here?” you whispered to yourself, the backs of your knuckles trailing down the old, warped glass of the leaded window. The shutters of this window had been thrown wide too so that you could see what you were doing, and the light poured in over one of the three long, research tables that lined that half of the dour library. Over the course of the past week, you’d stacked books pertaining to poetry up into huge, teetering piles that now looked more like a model city than anything, with skyscrapers reaching for the moulded plasterwork of the triple-height ceiling.

A low, bitter voice from behind you made you jump. “The name didn’t give it away?”

You yelped and tensed, turning sharply to find a figure occupying the shadows between two looming bookshelves. Unable to see them behind the chiaroscuro contrast in the room, you squinted. “The name?” you croaked when you’d finally recovered your senses.

A long, black, needle-thin leg emerged first from the darkness and you almost recoiled in surprise before another appeared beside it. A drider. The voice belonged to a drider. “Widow’s web…” he said in his low, gravelly voice, the tone heavy and dripping with sour sarcasm.

“Oh.” You blinked and curiosity flared in you. “Do… Do you work here as well? I haven’t met you before…”

The emerging drider stopped, the shadows still concealing his upper body, but you could see that he was one of the deadly, flash-quick driders; slim-built and light boned, and probably full of venom. You swallowed. Perhaps he was some kind of security agent? Perhaps it was his job to keep an eye on the place and make sure people kept their distance from the place. Perhaps he had come to check up on you.

For a long moment, the drider remained silent, and then without a word, he flung a thin volume onto the nearest end of the table, only a yard or so from where he still hung back, half concealed in shadow, and turned wordlessly to go. “See that this one is shelved with the rest,” he growled.

You caught a flash of red on his spider’s abdomen before he completely disappeared. His needle-clawed legs made almost no sound on the floorboards, and if you hadn’t been so stunned by his unexpected appearance and behaviour, you might have gone after him to scold him for treating what had to be a first edition - everything else so far had been - so callously. By the time you heard a sharp creak and the soft click of a secret door closing somewhere, it was too late to follow.

So instead, you left the window and picked up the book. It was an anthology of poems, and as you let the volume fall naturally open in your hands, it revealed a short, painfully bitter poem.

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,

Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,

Out of her chamber, led by the insane

And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,

The moon arose up in the murky East,

A white and shapeless mass.

No wonder he was so gloomy if this was the kind of thing he read. With a sigh, you closed the book and laid it with the other poetry anthologies, and spent the rest of the day trying to shake the encounter from your mind.

At lunch, Naril leaned over the table and frowned. “You alight?” he asked. “You look kind of… far off…?” It was just the two of you that day, with Naril having come in from the gardens a little later than usual, and his father having already eaten.

You sniffed and blinked, not realising you’d been staring into your bowl without really seeing it. “Yeah,” you croaked. “Listen… I’ve not really asked about… this place much. Why is it called Widowsweb?”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his lanky arms. He was tall, even for a firbolg, and that day he had scraped his long red hair back into a thin plait that hung down his back. His eyes, bright green, turned a little distant. “Apparently a dowager from the Silkfoot family had a falling out with her son, and he was so desperate to be rid of her that he exiled her here and gave the entire estate to his cousin who went with her. The two families diverged there, and never had anything else to do with each other since.”

So what Sarrigan had told you, about the two families being at least distantly related, was true. You wondered if the part about the Silkfoot family not liking humans had played a part in the disagreement. “I know one of the Silkfoots. Not well, but he’s a friend of a friend. He seems nice, but he says his family’s mostly awful.”

Naril was still watching you. “What’s brought this on?” he asked after a moment.

You took a breath and said, “I’m assuming your master is a drider then?”

Naril nodded. “Yeah. You… You didn’t know?”

You shook your head. “I hadn’t given it much thought, if I’m honest. Your father was the one who employed me and dealt with everything on behalf of your ‘master’. I… I think I met him this morning though.”

It was Naril’s turn to look a little surprised. He batted his long-lashed eyelids a few times and then barked a rough laugh. “Seriously?”

“Why is that so strange? He lives here. I find it weirder that I’ve not seen him yet.”

“He never shows himself to any of us. He lives in his wing of the house and literally never goes out. Chiara, and his valet Mason are the only two who ever interact with him directly.”

“Why?”

The firbolg’s surprise melted into something softer. “It’s said he’s cursed, but my father says that’s bollocks.”

“If he’s not cursed, then why? Why live as a recluse?” and why was he so rude?

Naril gave a half shrug and then stood, reaching across the table to collect your plate with his scuffed, scar-knuckled hand and take it to the sink. You murmured your thanks as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t for a long time. You stood watching him, his shirt dirty and sweat stained, ripped here and there, presumably from the vicious thorns of the roses you’d glimpsed from the windows.

“He lost his wife and their entire clutch when they’d only been married a year or so,” he said at last. The splashing of water in the sink as he washed up almost masked his words, but something in your chest panged when you caught them. “People said he did it. People said he was cursed. People said his whole line was cursed.”

“People say a lot of cruel and stupid things,” a harsh, female voice interjected from the doorway behind you and you turned to find Chiara glowering at the pair of you. Naril cringed and turned his attention back to washing up. “You’d do well to ignore all of them, and repeat none,” she said, fixing her yellow eyes on you. The harpy’s tone was as sharp as her claws, and you didn’t fancy crossing her.

You nodded. You weren’t part of the staff, no matter how welcome Naril and his father had made you feel. You were here to reorganise the library, and then you were going to leave. You had been there for one out of your six contracted months already, and the task seemed gargantuan, but you were determined not to let it get the better of you. Time to get back to it.

“Chiara,” you said carefully, “We weren’t gossipping. I believe I met your master this morning, though he didn’t fully show himself to me. I just wondered who I’d met, that’s all.” With that, you turned and put your hand on Naril’s arm. “Listen, I’d better get going. Thanks for doing that,” you added with a twitch of your chin towards the soapy dishes in the sink.

He bowed his head, his large, cow-like ears waggling softly, and closed his eyes briefly. “Take care up there in the library, eh? Don’t go falling off something or lifting more than you can carry. You look worn out.”

“I am tired,” you said, cracking a yawn almost directly on cue. “I haven’t been sleeping all that well here. Could I borrow you tomorrow for half an hour or so? There’s a massive chest that’s been parked in front of a shelf and I need to move it to get to the books behind it.”

He grinned, his odd, almost feline nose twitching. One lip pulled back to reveal his blunt, herbivore’s teeth and he nodded. “Happy to lend a hand, you know that. After lunch?”

You smiled, feeling a slight heating of your cheeks, and turned for the doorway. “Thank you.”

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and you finally cleared enough shelves to begin putting the first phase of your plan for the library into action.

Three days later, though only as you tucked yourself up in bed for the night, you realised you’d left your phone behind in the library. Cursing, you knew you’d have to go back for it if you were going to get up in time the next day to start work. No one formally kept track of your hours, but your professional pride demanded that you start work at nine, and you didn't fancy sleeping through til gods-knew when, especially given your erratic sleeping patterns of late.

Dressing hastily in jeans and a t-shirt, you grabbed the back door key, with which Mr. Ambleside had entrusted you after your first week on site, and let yourself into the main house.

If Widowsweb Court was creepy in daylight, it was unfathomably eerie at night. Pipes creaked and groaned sporadically, and a draft whistled up the corridor as you fumbled along the passageway that would lead to a servants’ staircase, and eventually, emerged onto the second floor near the library.

Were it not for the light of an almost full moon beaming in through the windows along the corridor, you might have missed the library doors altogether, but as it was, they illuminated the brass fittings so that they gleamed like gold, sparkling and winking at you almost fatefully. You scoffed at the thought, and pushed into the library, the door giving its usual raucous yelp on the hinges.

“Gods, I’ve got to get Naril to look at that,” you grumbled, moving across the floor and wondering if you dared turn all the lights on. Part of you expected a hoard of ghostly spectres to be drifting around the shelves like shades through gravestones.

Before you’d gone three paces, you froze. The whisper of a page turning caught your attention, and you swallowed, heart thudding. Again, you were not alone in there.

“Who’s that?” a sharp, male voice demanded from a table at the back of the room.

“It’s me,” you replied, immediately realising how stupid a thing that was to say to someone who wouldn’t have been familiar with you. You added your name, and followed it up with, “I’m working on the library catalogue.”

“At this time of night?” the scratchy baritone growled.

“I left my phone in here,” you said weakly as you stepped around a bookshelf and found him standing behind the furthest research table from the door. You knew immediately who it was, and your heart was thudding as you wondered just how well the lord of the manor would take it that you were sneaking about his house at this hour of the night. “I need it for my alarm in the morning.”

“It’s over there on the windowsill,” he said carelessly, moonlight running along his outstretched arm like mercury. From what you could see of his body, silhouetted against the light from outside, he was unhealthily thin, and he had long hair that fell loose and unrestrained down his back. He was also huge. Sarrigan was squat, fluffy as a tarantula, and muscular, but this figure was spindly and ominous, and built like a black widow.

“Thank you,” you croaked. “I’m… I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

As you picked up your phone from the sill, you heard him clear his throat, and glanced up to see him shifting a little. He looked like a nightmare demon from a shadow-play, all legs and pendulous body, but something about the angle of his head gave you pause.

He took a slow, rasping inhale. “How… is the work going?”

“Slowly,” you said with a rueful smile. “Mr. Ambleside might be a little out of touch with the collection… It’s larger than I was expecting.”

After a pregnant pause, the drider snorted softly and you broke into a nervous laugh at the innocuously-spoken innuendo.

“Anyway, on that note, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said and you watched him walk towards the window. As he moved, you realised what was unnerving about him. One of his legs was missing. Where most driders had eight legs, he had only seven.

You thought about him all the way back to your accommodation, and even after you’d set your phone on your bedside table and lain back to stare at the ceiling, the master of the house still occupied your thoughts.

The next morning, you found your feet taking you to that furthest table, and there you discovered that a book had been left open.

The poem that graced these pages was older by many centuries than the one about the moon. It was written in a language that had long evolved beyond recognition, but you stared at it and trailed your fingers down the verse, murmuring the words aloud in the Old Tongue. It was one you’d studied at university during one of your shorter modules, and you barely remembered any of its translation.

Oft him anhaga are gebideð,

metudes miltse, þeah þe he modcearig

geond lagulade longe sceolde

hreran mid hondum hrimcealde sæ

wadan wræclastas. Wyrd bið ful aræd!

You frowned, muttering words aloud until you’d muddled out a tiny bit of it. “Often, the one who is alone finds grace for himself, the… mercy…? The mercy of the lord? Although he, sorrow hearted… heavy hearted?”

“‘Sorrow-hearted’ works,” came a now-familiar voice from behind you and you jumped, nearly knocking the book from the table. This time you turned to find the drider advancing on you in full view.

Slowly, you let your eyes slide up his body to his face. He wore a crisp white shirt that looked like it had never been worn, the stark, monochrome contrast with his black spider’s body almost jarring. His hair was black, with a thick streak of bright, blood red falling around the right hand side of his face, which was gaunt and sallow, with dark shadows beneath his four red eyes. Around his right two eyes, his white skin was stained dark - almost purple - down his face and a little way onto neck, the birthmark looking like a swirl of watercolour. He blinked slowly at you, as if expecting something; waiting for you to say something rude or thoughtless.

With a start, you remembered the poem, and turned back to it. “Was this what you were reading last night?”

“Mmm. You’ve studied the Old Tongue I take it?” he said, and you turned to find him approaching slowly.

You tried not to let your gaze snag on the void where his leg should have been, and instead looked at the text again. “A little, and it was a while ago. I’m rusty… I think I remember this one. It’s called The Wanderer, isn’t it?”

He nodded, his hair sliding forwards like a black theatre curtain to hide his sunken face. “Not going to chide me for leaving it unshelved?” he sneered as he turned and headed once again for the back of the library. “I never did like librarians, you know?”

Grinding your teeth, and forcing yourself not to snap something rude at the person who was technically your employer, you said, “I’m an archivist, and this is your collection, not mine. One book being out of place is hardly going to though the whole thing into chaos, is it?”

He froze, on the point of leaving, and with an almost theatrical slowness, he turned to regard you. After fixing you with his eerie, red stare, he lifted one side of his upper lip and snarled, “I suppose not.”

And with that, he left you alone and unnerved again.

Work progressed at a glacial pace on the library, but you eventually moved from poetry to non-fiction: travel journals and histories, geographical texts and maps.

Naril grabbed you one bright, weekend morning after breakfast and dragged you out into the gardens for the first time. The two of you spent a couple of glorious hours touring the kitchen garden, the walled garden, the rose garden, the knot garden, and finally the orchards and arboretum. As the pair of you walked, hot and honestly quite tired, back up to the house for refreshments, your eyes naturally found their way to the library windows that overlooked the terrace and lawn at the back of the house, and you were surprised to find them flung open.

You paused and scowled.

“What?” Naril asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I was sure I closed the windows last night…” you murmured.

“Maybe the master is in there,” he said. “You know, I think you’ve seen him more than I have now. What’s he like?”

“Sad.” That was the first word that came to mind. “He strikes me as someone who’s incredibly sad. I’ve only seen him three times now, but each time he seemed so bitter and prickly. It’s like he’s curious about what I’m doing in there, but he doesn’t want to talk to me too much.”

You passed beneath the windows and slid into the house, sighing as the air of the cool stone passage wafted over your sun-warmed skin. No more than an hour later, you found yourself back in the library, but the master wasn’t there and the window was shut again. Easing yourself down into a comfortable chair beside the casement, you let your head loll against the back, and wondered if he ever set foot outside. If Naril was to be believed, the drider never left the confines of his wing for anything other than quick trips to the library.

After a while, you found your eyes drooping, and you inhaled deeply, letting the weight of a doze seep through you like the warmth of a hot bath.

A noise stirred you, and you opened your eyes to find that the light had changed to the vibrant magenta of a clear sunset, and that you were not alone. Squinting at the shelf, with his face far closer to the books than yours needed to be to read the titles, was the lord of Widowsweb Court.

You watched him in silence for a moment, not sure if he knew you were there or not, and took in the lines of his black legs - skinny, barbed, and deadly. The chair creaked as you sat up straighter, and he whipped around, dropping the book with a bang onto the floorboards and rearing up, his front legs rising like lances ready to strike.

“Sorry,” you gasped. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. I didn’t know you hadn’t heard me.”

As he lowered himself back down, you looked up into his face and the expression you found there made your heart stop. He looked furious. “Get out,” he barked. “If you’re not working in here, get out.”

Without another word, you rose and fled the room as sedately as you could muster.

Part Three --->

To be continued next Wednesday… Part Three is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

#drider #male drider #exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster x human #drider x human #male drider x female reader

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

Subject 10-Mulan Link

You have now gained the accesses file page of the chain links case number #19835 Corrupted heroes for Subject #10

Current state: Safe

legal name: Link,last name unknown

Nicknamed: Mulan

Biological age: unknown

Chronical age: unknown

Hieght: Unknown

Weight: unknown

Visiting accesse time for subject Zero: Must be planned ahead of schedule time in order to have private meetings and clerance from head chief researcher Queen zelda and level 5 personal clerance

Physical description: Subject 10 is a short haired Hylian woman who wears a green tunic and knight gear armor.They have a well built muscular body and a ferret that rests around thier neck as well as scars and cuts around thier body.The most noticeable scare they have are three little cuts under thier chin and a long vertical cut across thier right cheek.

Information: Subject 10 first arrived at the castle carrying subject zero and subject 11 bloodied and badly injured with a broken arm and serveral fractured bones as well as stab/slash wounds.They came in as duplicates of four identical versions of subject 10 dressed variouse colors such as brown,cyan,yellow and green.Only one of the 4 sets had arrived at the castle with subject Zero and Subject 11 while the others fought off to keep back the “chain” while back up knights and town gaurds were deployed to apreheand them.Subject 10 is not placed under any containment but is required to come to the SCRPP research site to have check ups and testing as well as recorded interviews with research personales.Subject 10 refuses to have to go anywhere without her ferret campaion so all interviews and meetings are held with subject 10′s ferret either on the site with them or curled around subject 10′s neck.Subject 10 is in current possesion of the master sword and four sword as well as veriouse other items from the group(but not all for research purposes and other classified resons).They are to be informed of any drastic procedures that are to be done to any of the known subjects and participats of case file #19835.Subject 10 is one of the only subjects out of all the links who dose not show a red essence seeping out or show any signs of agression or possesive behvaiors for subject Zero. Research is still going underway to find out a way as to why it is and if blood or dna samples can be exracted from subject 10 in order to find a cure.

[interview recoding of subject 10 #1]

Dr.Jean: Now beining case file number #1983 dash 1 subject 10 interview of the anomalie the Curropted Heros. Time started at 10:89. Interview researcher personale Dr.Jean, tag number 893 of site 13 room A14.

Dr.Jean: Ok,lets start.Rember at anytime you start to feel uncomfortable we can stop the interview,alright?

Link: ok..

Dr.Jean: ok,lets start off with something simple.Subject 10 can you please state your name?

Link: Mulan.

Dr.Jean: I am sorry,let me clarify I meant your real name.

Link: oh,right..its uh,its Link.

Dr.Jean: Good,can you state your last name as well?

Link: I dont have one.

Dr.Jean: Are you sure? No documnets? Family? Anyway to file for one?

Link: Yes,I am sure.I dont have one.Thats it.

Dr.Jean: Right,right, *ahem* can you tell us how long you’ve know the links?

Link: We had all know each other for about a year and a half, and today would have been our second year together if…you know,had things still been normal with everyone.

Dr.Jean: how did you meet these people to begin with?

Link: I was out exploring the outskits of the forests behind my house one day and saw a bright light,so i got curiouse and followed it.I found a portal and went through it.I was transported to the guredo desert and wondered a around for a bit before I found the chain.it turns out the portal took me to a diffrent time period and there was some time,dimentional stuff going on and we were all gathered to fix it or something.

Dr.Jean: How did you meet subject Zero?

Link: Subject Zero? oh,do you mean [redacted]?

Dr.Jean: Link,please reframe from saying subject Zero’s real name during this interview.

Link: Fine.

Dr.Jean:thank you,pleas contiue.

Link: We first met them a few months after lucky came when [ audio connection has been temperarly lost]

Dr.Jean: Intresting and how did you feel about Subject zero?

Link: I didn’t think much of them, I thought that they were ok.they were kind of nice and everyone liked them,so I did too.But there was something just…off about them.

Dr.Jean:Off like what? Did you distrust them?

Link: no,no,no not distrsut or anything like that…just that something was not right…there was just something…..something WRONG with them,I dont know how to describe it, they were just not normal in a very bad way.But I ignored it and didn’t think much on it. I think they were just…diffrent.

Dr.Jean: Why did you help them escape?

Link: Because it was the right thing to do.I wanted to get them out of a situation where they were held captive and also keep the others from killing each other on who got to keep them.Its not that complicated. besides it my fault for not stopping this sooner.

Dr.Jean: How?

Link: What?

Dr.Jean: How do you think it was your fault?

LInk:[sighs] its…it was all right there I didn’t want to see it,I knew everyone was starting to act a little wierd but I didn’t want to take it that seriously,I didn’t want to think badly about my fami-friends..my friends…Until one day when they had gone completly overboard and uh…..I had found some of them beating down on a man after they were flirting with..with subject Zero…and to say that they looked like they were thugs when they were doing it would be too much of a understatement…They looked like they were having a good time doing it too.I swear when I saw them that day at the allyway they were not the heros I knew and travled with and as faw as i was concerned they were strangers-no,not even that,they were monsters…And the look on thier faces when I yelled out to them and they turned to me…it was like they were going to kill me right there and then……[Inhales heavily before exhailing shakingly] they weren’t normal….thier eyes….I don’t think I can really ever forget those empty vacant looks..it was like someone els was there…Since then things had started to get worse.

[suject 10 begins to pet her ferret at this time seeming to find comfort in it from thier stress]

Dr.Jean: Who were the ones that were there at the time of the incident?

Link: it was…I think Twilight,Four,Sky and Wild were all there.

Dr.Jean: Even Sky?

LInk: Yeah, him too.I rembered the second I started yelling and taring a new in asshole for them he just came up from behind the group and started to try to “calm me down” and explain how the shit I just saw wasn’t what it seemed like and yadda yadda yadda,typical gaslighting you know? But I wasn’t going to fall for some shit like that so I got the man out of there and to a medic, payed for all his expenses and reported them to Time and Warriors. Honestly I was so pissed off and in shock about it all that I had finally started notice and realize more and more things that were wrong about the group that I use to just keep ignoring.I still didn’t try to do anything serious about it though until the end of our journey.

Dr.Jean:What did you mean by noticeing things?

Link: …….just things….and looking back at it now should have been obviouse red flags but I never pressed for them.I think the first time I did it was with Wsrriors but he kept brushing me off saying things like “everyone is just protective of [redacted]” or “that you are looking way too into this” and when he did listen to me he would tell me that he’d keep a closer eye on the group.I suppose you can take a guess that, he did not, in fact, keep up the promis that he made.

Dr.Jean: did at any point in your adventures feel,were attempted to or successfully attacked or harmed by any members of this group during you adventures before the escape?

Link:No-well I mean yes but…[ exasperated sigh]…yeah….yeah there were a few…ok maybe a lot…But I guess the one that really stuck with me was when,uh,when Time held me up against a wall and tryed to cut my throat during a heated argument about…..them.

[Subject 10 reaches over to rub on a faint cut across thier neck]

[the ferret circles closer to her neck nuzzling it head into hers in an attempt to comfort Link]

Link: Aww,its ok little guy,I am fine right now.Don’t worry fluffy.

Dr.Jean: i am sorry if its too much but what was the argument about?

Link:…….

[subject 10 stays silent for a few minutes before speaking again]

Link: It was about if we should kill subject zero.

Dr.Jean: Then do you think we should kill subject zero?

[subject 10 stops petting fluffy and stares at the doctore without giving an answer for several more minutes]

Link:[a shallow exhale leaves thier mouth] …….I……..I….

[the sounds of sirens and alarms going off]

Annocemnet :There is a containment breach in the D -12 containment building floor,please all personels and staff go to the evacuation exits and safety rooms while special elit force knights handle the situation.Subject 4 case 19835- 1,2,3 and 4 cololrs have all escaped.If you see him or any of the colors they are to be neutralized and brought back to thier containment cells.All other staff do not ingage unless -

Dr.Jean: oh Hylia,looks like we’ll have to cut this short and we have to hurry and-wait where are you going! The safety room is this way! Link!

Link: [distant and muffled]I know,I just need to go out and kick a few stobbern little butts back in thier cells first-!

Dr.Jean: Link the elit knights can handle it you don’t have to-Link!! Link! Sir Link! Lin-!!

[audio ends here]

I am doing wind next

This is long, so I'll react as I read.

oh SHOOT THEY RAN!!!

MULAN USES THE FOUR SWORD!!

[REDACTED]?!?!!?

LUCKY!!!

AUDIO CONECTION TEMPORTARILY LOST!?!?!?!?!?

THEY GONNA KILL A GUY-KIL MULAN!!? SKY IS GASLIGHTING!?!?

TIME CUT THEM?!?!?

MULAN GONNA KILL SUBJECT ZERO!?!?!?

THEY ESCAPE!?!?!? THE COLORS ESCAPE!!!!

MULAN GOES TO FIGHT?!?!?

MY GIRL!!!!

OH MY GOD

#pinky replies #SCP LU #PINKY IS SCREAMING #pinky is screaming #i don't know which one I use anymore #violence #yall gotta let me know with tags #i don't think this was so bad in terms of being graphic....#but let me know because i can't think...#yandere #yandere linked universe #horror

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