#Foolish Sunbeam

[comradekatara]

haha your little commentary on the type of cats 😭 I never thought of zuko as an orange cat but that totally makes sense (halloween cats) and Aang as a ginger cat like yes because of all their parallels omg but you hit the nail on the head with Ty Lee hehe

zuko is literally one of the most orange cat coded characters in all of fiction. unwavering dogged determination combined with heedless idiocy and a refusal to acknowledge how his surroundings and the basic laws of physics might impact his success in any given endeavor. and somehow he just keeps surviving despite that. marvelous

aang is one of those cats who isn’t really orange but is rather a pale ginger color. kind of sillygoofy but also gentle and much much smarter than your average orange boy

katara is a brown and white cat with black stripes, a fluffy belly, and little white socks. yes i do realize that i am just describing my cat. this is not a coincidence (aka the cutest sweetest cat in the whole world)

sokka is a black cat (obviously) but with a white belly and socks. and bright yellow eyes. like a witch’s familiar but if the witch was kinda chill about it

mai is a black cat but truly all black from head to toe. piercing green eyes. really sweet and purrs a lot but ppl avoid her out of foolish superstition

ty lee is a beautiful fluffy white cat with a perfect pink little nose who is just so gorgeous and entrancing. her favorite thing to do is show you her belly and then bite your hand when to try to rub it. but everyone keeps trying anyway bc she is the people’s princess

azula is a very shrewd and imperious fluffy grey cat who is constantly leaving dead mice and bugs in your bed. as a gift of course

yue is also a beautiful white cat but she lets you rub her belly. her favorite hobby is napping in a sunbeam on the windowsill

iroh is a sphynx cat who is clearly convinced that he is the most beautiful cat who ever lived, and because he demands to be treated like a gorgeous diva, everyone just somehow believes him

suki is not a cat she is a small yappy dog who is always getting in ur business

and toph is a very large rat who somehow just taught herself how to meow really well

#f1reladymai #the gaang and #asks #sorry for the iroh one i just rly do think they look like wrinkly little naked old men so. i could not resist

[aphroditesmoon]

how to get out of love (part ii)

xavier thorpe x reader

summary: It has always been the two of you, he just saw it too late.

warnings: mentions of blood and wounds.

a/n: thank you for the love in part 1! I hope you guys enjoy this as much<3

part 1

taglist: @littlecrisisworld @temptressofthetarrot, @fanboyluvr , @jolenie @liv0679, @hushedlover , @xh-josii , @importantpuppyshark @ipadkidsworld , @arivh , @emilykolchivans , @jennifer0305 , @macystyles-01 , @555stargirl555

°°°

It wasn't unusual for Xavier to sit alone as he watches his friends reunite with their family every year. He was never his father's priority, and thankfully it doesn't bug him as much as it used to.

What made this year even lonelier was the fact he didn't even have you to keep him company.

He's given up all attempts to talk to you after always being shut down.

Now he just stares longingly when you pass by him, wishing he could turn back time and redid everything he's done wrong.

He sighs as he watches Bianca walks away with her often distant mother. Even she had someone with her.

His heart aches and he knows it's his own fault, always wanting more than he needed, and ending up losing all he ever had.

You were nowhere to be seen today, his wandering eyes keep search of you.

He wonders if it's as hard for you as it is for him. Having no living family member left, loneliness was a part of your being before he came into your life, but you made it look easy when you shrugged his presence off your life, resuming back to silent days alone through classes.

Xavier snaps himself out of his thoughts before deciding to head towards his shed, if there was one thing he could do today was make the best of the solace.

°°°

Today was a no-off campus day, unless you had a guardian or parent with you, all students must remain inside. But being invisible was one of your specialty, literally.

You found yourself in your usual comfort spot deep inside the woods.

Though other people might fear going in this far, you were used to it. The forest was your home, even without a family, you had made it your own.

You spotted the large circle of mushrooms you've planted in the middle of the ground and sighed in relieved before slinging your backpack off before laying in the middle.

Even the most foolish of fools knew that fairy circles were nothing but myths, yet sometimes you'd lie in the circle with your eyes closed, basking in the sunbeams through the trees, imagining the dead hands of your fairy mother coming and whisking you away.

And then you'd wake up.

You had came here less and less since you've gotten close with Xavier, he became as close as a family could be to you.

But today, the tantalizing reminder of his offense burnt through your mind like adding salt to fresh wound, as if being forced to watch everyone with their families wasn't painful enough.

You have never felt more alone.

You jerk up suddenly at the loud sound of rustling bushes and frown at your surroundings, trying to find the source.

Getting up to investigate, you slowly walk while crouching down step by step, peeking inside the overgrown bushes in front of you.

An ear perked up and your breath hitches as you froze at the sight.

The loud meowing noise forces the air of relief to leave you, sighing heavily.

Your body relaxes and you let out a short laugh at your panicked state before reaching your hand out to pet the black cat.

Before you could touch it, it welps loudly and jumped over your head, pushing your back to the ground before running away.

"What the fuck." Your heart skipped fast at the sudden attack of the furry creature and you almost cursed it for rejecting your affection.

That was until you saw what it was running from.

Hand on your head, trying to soothe the pain the black cat inflicted, your eyes took it's time to notice the large lingering beast in front of you. And your legs fails you as it leaped forward.

°°°

"I don't have time for this Ajax-" Xavier groans at his friend for the fifth time as he grabs his jacket after covering his canvas.

"I'm telling you man- whatever you do, do not get her dog food as an apology gift." The gargoyle insists sternly after multiple suggestions on how to get you to forgive Xavier.

"Why the fuck would I get her dog food?" He asks confused.

Ajax shrugged, "I don't know, but I tried it with Enid once, let's just say it didn't work out well."

Xavier frowns at him and shook his head before turning to leave the shed, "Whatever just- lock the door for me when you leave, alright?"

He hears Ajax's 'I got you man' and focuses his steps towards the woods, his feet fast moving as his mind races equally as fast and nerve-wreckingly.

He knew why Wednesday suspected him as the Hyde, almost everytime an attack happened, he's there. He couldn't have told her of his dreams, his visions, of every single future victim, always almost too late appearing to him.

A girl like her would use such information againts him.

In times like this, he can't decide if he was grateful for mournful of his gift. If he can't make it on time to you, it'll all be for nothing, all this prophetic dreams he had gotten would just be another reason for him to hate himself even more.

So he runs faster.

He stops in his tracks as he reaches the middle of the woods, your pink hoodie by his foot.

His fear that he was too late, resolves immediately when he sees you on the ground. Bleeding from your stomach, but alive.

No monster in sight, only you and Wednesday Addams standing by your side.

He snaps out of his dazed state immediately when your eyes meets his and he does hesitate to crouch down, pulling you into his chest, blood and all.

He almost pull back in fear of you pushing him away. But when he feels you leaning in, gasping out his name, his hands doesn't let down his hold on you.

"I'm so sorry, im is sorry i-" He restrain falls as he squeezes you tight , apologizing profusely, feeling his heart cracks when he hears you sobbing through his shirt.

Your hands grip his shirt and he feels your body trembling, the realization of your condition hits him and he pulls you up to his chest before lifting you up from the ground.

"We need to get her help." His voice stern as he turns to Wednesday.

The girl only glares at him, "How did you know she was here?"

He flinches at her accusing tone and frowns.

"Because I know her. Now if you're going to keep accusing me of being the Hyde, can you at least wait until she gets help?" He snaps at her, clutching you right to him as you moan in pain.

Wednesday nods abruptly and starts walking forward. "We need to get her to the hospital, before too much blood runs out-"

"No! Not the hospital-" You bursted out She halts her steps and turns to you I'm confusion.

"This is not the time to play tough [name], you're fatally wounded and my expertise only goes as far as minimal wound stitchings." She scolds you, her voice raising.

You shook your head and pleaded to Xavier. "Just take me to the infirmary-"

He knew why you hated hospitals, how much pain lurked in that place for you, but he couldn't risk losing you.

"Start the car, I'm coming right behind you." He demands to Wednesday and running after her, ignoring your begging.

°°°

The surgery ended two hours ago, and the last thing you remembered was Xavier's voice begging you not to pass out, something about a concussion.

If you felt terrible earlier, now was just as bad.

Tubes of water needles straight into your arms, you open your eyes, taking in the white walls of your worst nightmare.

This was where your mother died, and it was the last place you wanted to be in.

Still, you were grateful that they'd fixed you up. You could barely move your lower body and your stomach aches terribly, but you were alive at least.

You look towards the door as a nurse enter with a tray of needles. "Hello sweetheart." She greeted you, seemingly pleased that you're awake.

"I know you probably feel horrible now, so I'm just going to inject some antibiotics and painkillers for you alright?" You nod weakly and surrender you arms to her as she does her work.

She leaves a moment after, the painkiller doing wonders for your pounding headache as you fall back into sleep, giving your body the rest it needed.

You snap awake at the sudden feeling of a presence.

Your hands tightly clutches the fingers holding yours.

"It's me, it's just me." He speaks up to calm you down immediately.

You breathed out a relieved sigh when you saw Xavier's face, sitting by your side.

"You're here." You mumbled out, drowsy.

"Always. I'll always be here." He assures you gently, his thumb tracing your knuckles before bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

"I'm sorry, I was too late." You shook your head and squeezed his hand. "You couldn't have known."

His brows furrowed and he attempts to read your sincerity. "You're not going to ask me how I knew?"

You smiled at him and shook your head. "Well I know for one thing you're not the Hyde, you're too stupid for that."

A shy grin escapes him and he snorts.

"Wednesday shouldn't have known I was there either, but she did, and she's not the monster too. So whenever you're ready to tell me your little secret, I'll be right here." You tell him understandingly.

It was that moment, all his past guilt comes slithering in. He was so stupid and he almost lost you because of it, he wouldn't trade you for the world, especially not for some random girl or ex girlfriends, you are more than a phase for him.

You're his whole life.

Before he could open his mouth the get a word up, you shook your head and shushed him. "Whatever you need to say, tell me after I get enough sleep." You forced.

He gulps and nods his head.

"Take your rest, I'm not going to leave you, not again."

Your eyes slowly closes again and let yourself relax in his presence.

"I know you won't."

#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe fanfic #xavier thorpe #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader

[randomwriteronline]

Ko-Wahi was a short variety of generally not necessarily pleasant things: it was desolate, cold, harsh, and - when the winds didn't rush after one another through the icy peaks with low howling shrieks, cutting through the frigid aether like claws of an enormous Rahi reaching out to grasp any wayward Matoran foolish enough to dare wander in its territory - it was abnormally quiet.

So it reasoned that if Kopaka, Toa of Ice and Hating Being Around People, was not found anywhere else, he had to have secluded himself to a place that at the very least resembled the environment he had first felt at home in.

He didn't even flinch at the rush of air that accompanied the stomps which suddenly stopped by his side.

"You're late," he only commented.

The jovial jab Pohatu had ready for him froze in his throat, and he tilted his head slightly in genuine confusion: "Late?" he repeated.

"I expected you to be here five minutes ago," Kopaka replied.

"You were expecting... Me?"

"Of course I was," the other replied matter-of-factly: "If there's something I can depend on, it's the fact you'll chase me down to the ends of the silver sea just because."

The Toa of Stone blinked quickly a few times, eventually smirking back: "And if there's something I can depend on, it's that I'll always find you somewhere snowy and deserted."

He then leaned a little closer and proceeded to add, in a goofier tone: "Like your heart."

The gentle elbow punted in his side made him snicker as he successfully evaded it the first time; he cackled a bit louder when the second jab actually hit.

His friend did not dignify his amusement with any verbal response. Instead, he extended his finger.

Pohatu followed where it was pointing, staring at the same vast expanse of white he had just sped through (luckily without having to skid through any frozen snow - perhaps one of the very few things he certainly did not miss about the island of Mata Nui), and found nothing.

At first.

His pinprick pupils, so used to the desert sun, struggled a little more, trying to tighten even harder or widen ever so slightly: even with the clouds shielding his eyes from the sunbeams turned blinding as they were reflected on the candid coat of snow, the uniformity of the colors confused and unified all that supposedly existed before him with only few exceptions. There was snow, snow, snow, more snow, a leftover Visorak web, even more snow, another patch of snow, something looking vaguely disgusting half covered in snow, some more snow, a lance of light reflected from a point just outside the clouds' range, a vast amount of snow, a smaller amount of snow, snow, snow, and one last puff of snow over there. Riveting!

But Kopaka seldom pointed at nothing at all just to stretch out his finger; and once he truly focused on the exact location he was indicating, Pohatu saw.

He saw a jagged thing, sharp end splintered and jutting towards the sky like a blade, ever so slightly greyer than the pallor surrounding it; he saw its missing half laying mournfully among the powdery ground, defeated, cracked, open wide.

He saw its entrails, eroded by the weather, far too small to properly distinguish one object from the other from this distance - still they glittered grey and blue in the lack of color as if to remind in silent screams of their existence, once, as tools and furniture and inventions of scholars, before they'd found themselves abandoned in the wake of their master's leave as strange crystalline gore only partially hidden away in the haste of a half hearted burial.

He saw dozens of the jagged corpse's kind - once pillars, columns, immense bastions, now nothing more than ruins. Enormous animals frozen in place, never to thaw awake once more.

He saw frail, beautiful exoskeletons awaiting with such tiredness to be crushed, replaced by larvae in the bowels of which knowledge would thrive.

The wind passed between them without strength, not even lifting a snowflake.

"Breath-taking, isn't it," Kopaka murmured.

Pohatu nodded in silence.

They simply stood there for a long time, side by side, looking upon the carcasses of Ko-Metru's knowledge towers.

Looking upon what was left of a city of legends.

There had never been a Matoran called Kopaka, in the Turaga's tales.

He had never competed with Ehrye as they rushed to run errands for the seers in the hopes of one day being allowed to stand beside them at the top of those magnificent crystal constructions, spending days pondering and reading stars, uncovering the secrets of the future to the point of turning the very idea of tomorrow into such a mundane thing; he had never known Nuju, never looked at him with awe, or respect, or burning envy. He had never walked those streets, or skied down those slopes, or travelled to the Colosseum inside of a protodermis chute.

And yet he had found his chest aching as he had listened to those descriptions, from a nostalgia that wasn't his own. As though Vakama and his stories had handed him a coal that had long singed the Turaga's hand, still weakly sizzling, that now burned his palm in turn.

Mata Nui had been all he'd ever known as far as he was concerned. There had been nothing before; and if there had been, it wasn't the land the Matoran had been forced away from.

Yet despite knowing as much, despite the attempts to soothe the dull pain that had no place in his logical mind, in the long last hours he'd gotten to spend on the chiling peaks surrounding Mount Ihu the Toa of Ice had been unable to keep himself from wandering away from the material world into absentminded daydreams, trying to construct a memory that had never been there, a life he had never lived.

He had imagined Ko-Metru many times. He had imagined Metru Nui as a whole many times, the orderly archives, the silvery canals, the smoky furnaces, the dangling cables, the unmoving statues - a world for smaller eyes (like his never had been) to see. He had imagined the Colosseum, its inner mechanisms, even the Vahki guards, despite their presence being nothing but an annoyance at best and a source of uneasiness and dread and outright danger at worst. He had imagined himself getting in trouble with them often - who would they have been, to tell him what to do? What made them any different from a Bohrok?

He had imagined them often, but he had never seen them. Never whole. Never alive.

As he stared at what remained of a city of seers, he ached to have been there. Maybe he would have understood better. Maybe it would have hurt more. Maybe it would have felt more like home.

But would he have noticed? Any of the beauty, the lack of strife? Would he have liked a life such as this, spent either pondering on who knows what, or reading pages of history before they were even written, or running around tirelessly for people who did both former and latter? Would this sight have stirred something deep in him now, or would his amnesia have kept his feelings at a distance?

His chest hurt. Something inside it ached terribly, pushing hard against his muscle and metal, like a fish suddenly rushing to break the still frozen surface of a lake in a bout of claustrophobia.

He felt strange, uncomfortable.

Like something misplaced.

Kopaka's eyes wandered over the crystal towers, suddenly overwhelmed. He let out a shuddering, watery breath, as quiet as he could.

He needed not worry about being heard.

Pohatu was too enthralled by the sight before them to notice his momentary frailty.

He gazed on, unable to tear his his eyes from what his brother regarded as an enormous grave he could not mourn properly, and beheld only a thing of beauty.

It was not the vast expanse of Po-Wahi's desert, nor the infinite lushness of Le-Wahi's jungles, the burnt forests of Ta-Wahi, the Ga-Wahi reefs, the cavernous labyrinths of Onu-Wahi - it could not even compare to the frigid landscape of Ko-Wahi despite all their similarities, and he could tell from a first glance.

Ko-Metru and its siblings could have never been what the Koro of Mata Nui had been - they were not a breathing nook interwoven in the world around them: they were carefully constructed bubbles, encased, entrapped within themselves, the wild nature that once had run through it tamed carefully only to cry out despite its weakened form once the binds upon it had been snapped to pieces and left to rot.

It was not beautiful in the way he knew a land to be; it was not open and grand to the point of being frightening. It was shut on itself, broken, a pale imitation of what it had been.

And yet he found it all so gorgeous.

It had embarrassed him at first - not feeling. Remaining still and unfazed as the Turaga had longingly described what the Toa of Stone should have regarded as home, a field of statues tirelessly carved by artisans of his people. He had struggled to imagine it properly, managing only hazy scorches of some undefined place, like a mirage in the desert; and hearing his brothers and sisters wonder aloud, so curious, of how they would have expected their Metru to be, he'd been all but mortified at his own lackluster enthusiasm.

Had he really grown so self centered? All the world seemed to feel as though it had only started existing with his birth upon that fateful shore.

A city of legends on the other side of the sea... He could not have ever pictured it.

But now he was there, walking upon its streets, traveling across its lands, and it looked nothing like it had been described: it looked shattered and lost, and broken, and rusted, and standing still where it had once stood so proud and shining only to spite the cruelty of time that wanted it to bend and turn leveled.

Pohatu had lost himself between scattered remains of monumental statues, details sanded down until unrecognizable, or filled with what little life could make its home in such a crevice. He has searched between the broken Kanohi nobody had ever melted down again, seeing his and his siblings' likenesses over and over and over and over, he had followed broken cables back to the towers from which they had once served a purpose, raced along empty canals to make a sense of them, peeked into tunnels the roofs of which had been torn open like dissected anthills.

Metru Nui had never been whole, not for him.

It had always been this gorgeous wreck, this beautiful ruined landscape. He could not imagine it as anything less; he could not see it as anything mournful, or dead, or ugly.

Each toppled building was where it should have been. Each destroyed spire was exactly as the Great Spirit had intended it to be.

Such a frail, stubborn, lovely, wild thing.

A tragedy and a celebration.

Glowing brighter than the twin suns with every ounce of its incomplete, breath-taking beauty.

Kopaka felt something tug very gently at his arm. When he turned, he noticed Pohatu still hadn't taken his eyes away from the shimmering remains of the towers.

"Did you want to show me this?" the Toa asked, quietly, quietly.

His friend looked back to the sight before them and swallowed a heavy knot in his throat: "I did," he replied.

The grip on his limb tightened ever so slightly.

Comfortingly.

"Thank you." Pohatu whispered.

Kopaka did not answer.

They looked on.

#bionicle #pohatu #kopaka #metru nui #random writing #second hand nostalgia vs finding beauty in ruins: fight (the opponents start kissing each other tenderly) #in other news hi ive read 7 bionicle books in abt a month and im not even remotely mentally stable about these guys #both of these feelings in regards to the past are ones i experience and consequentially im feeling them abt bionicle too #it was never properly alive for me so im entranced by the story and the works and the fans and everything as someone from After It Happened #but at the same time i feel an ache to have been there at the beginning even though i physically couldnt have been #anyways sorry if stuff is ooc. i love these two lads but ive never written for em before #big shoutout to my friend rabid. i love you. thank you for letting the Fleshy Annotations swallow me whole

[dadmareau]

Does Dadmare have any conflicted feelings about the tree of Feelings?

Many.

Most of all, the Tree makes him feel like a lost, lonely child again, even if he's centuries older. He feels foolish, like nothing he ever did made an impact on the world around him--and especially not the stupid Tree. With Sunbeam, he can ignore the feelings and focus on taking care of his brother.

#dreamtale au #dreamtale #utmv #nightmare sans #not story #lore #inbox #dadmare #ooc

[echo-goes-mmm]

Hoarding Behavior #8

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

River was having a wonderful dream. Warmth all over, soft kisses with brushes of sharp teeth, claws trailing lightly down his stomach, a gentle scaled hand tucking under his waistband-

He woke with a start, an uncomfortable wetness in his pants. Ew. 

“Mmm?” hummed Noct. Uh oh.

Master opened an eye at his silence, yawning. “Whasss it?” he slurred from across the nest.

“Nothing!” he squeaked. Master narrowed his eyes.

“Um…” there was no way he was going to tell Noct he had a wet dream, and he especially wasn’t going to say it was about him.

“I just really need to wash up right now.”

Master yawned again, stretching, and River very carefully did not look at him.

Noct pulled the key out from under his nightshirt and unlocked the cuff. River awkwardly got up, hoping Noct didn’t notice anything.

But Noct got up with him, sleepily following him to the bath. 

“Um. Can I go by myself? Please?”

Noct tilted his head. “Why-” his eyes went wide, nostrils flaring, and he glanced down at River’s pants and then looked away. “Go ahead,” he said, embarrassment in his voice.

So much for that. How humiliating. 

He scrubbed himself down in the bath, trying to get rid of a scent he couldn’t smell himself. He took a moment to relax a bit in the water, trying to delay further shame.

Of course, what to do with the soiled clothes? He completely forgot to grab a change of underwear in his rush to get out of there.

He’d have to go without boxers. He wouldn’t be able to look at Master again if he went in wearing dry cum stains.

Noct was still awake as he walked into the den. He was staring up at the ceiling, flat on his back. He pointed to a folded set of pajamas and fresh underwear on the edge of the nest.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.” Noct rolled over, facing into the cut stone rim of the nest. River shuffled into the new sleep clothes.

With any luck, they’d never talk about it.

___________________

It was the first day with “outside time”, and the weather was perfect. Sunny, with fluffy white clouds far in the distance.

Master was laid out in his large form, stretched out and relaxed like a cat. 

“Do not wander too far,” he rumbled.

“Yes, Master.” River looked out into the woods. The sunlight streamed through the tree leaves, sunbeams glittering onto the foliage. 

River had spent his life in cities, as slaves did, with little signs of nature. Even city parks were off limits to them, and only the wealthiest had courtyards worth mentioning. 

Birds sang on the branches, as if the dragon just a few yards away was nothing. 

He glanced back towards Noct. His head was between his long front legs, his eyes shut. Smoke curled up to the sky from his snout.

He looked back into the forest. There was a narrow path off to the right.

A little walk couldn’t hurt.

___________________

The sun felt so good. Of course a human needed the sun, how could be so foolish? It felt too nice to not be good for health.

He shifted his wings, stretched them up into the air and folded them back down. So nice.

He kneaded the soil beneath his claws. A sliver of bone poked his palm. Hmph. He ought to clean up these bones. They had served their purpose. He didn't need them anymore.

That was for another day, though.

Noct took in a deep breath, tasting the sweet smell of plants and game in the air. But River’s personal scent of soap and herbs was not so close. He shot up, listening for him. 

The birds had stopped singing.

“River,” he called. “Come.” He heard twigs snapping and leaves rustling as his precious gem rushed back, but there was an unease in the air he didn’t like.

“Master?”

“Come here.” Noct didn’t look away from the woods.

“What is it?”

___________________

“Hush.” Master was more alert than he’d ever seen him, staring off into the forest.

Noct grabbed him suddenly, tucking him in between his front leg and side. 

“Lie down. Do not move.” His voice was urgent, and River kept still.

It was warm, a little too warm, but he didn’t move. He looked up at Master’s face.

His eyes were narrowed, his mouth ajar. Smoke poured from the corners of his jaw, and his teeth gleamed. But there was no snarl or intimating hiss. Master was tense, but made no move to threaten whatever it was.

But then the atmosphere became thick, and a buzzing stirred under his skin. The air itself seemed to vibrate, and his hair stood up on end.

He dared to peek out from under his curved claws. Nothing. Then he saw it.

A shadow in the distance, blocking out sunbeams and glints from under the trees, moved slowly through the forest. It was hard to tell the size of the thing; it could even be bigger than Master for all he knew.

It lumbered like no beast he had ever seen before.

Master relaxed; his head coming to rest between his legs again.

He wanted to ask, but Master had ordered him quiet and the creature was still there. Looking at it gave him a headache, so he turned away.

River waited and waited, and after what felt like forever:

“It is gone,” rumbled Noct, “you may come out.”

River stepped out from the heat and into the sun. The breeze was nice on his face, and the birds were singing again.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Oh, it was only a Thing of the Woods.” Huh?

“Thing of the Woods?” Noct cracked an eye open.

“Have you not heard of the Things? They are in the sea, deep in mountains, skies, forests. Harmless. Spirits of the great nature. Distant parents of all things some say.”

“Never heard of them.”

Noct tutted, and with a whoosh of smoke he was small again. He pulled River into his lap. 

“You humans are silly creatures,” he said. He began to purr, and he flopped on his back into the dirt and tugged River along to lie on his chest.

“It is a beautiful day. Nap with me,” he commanded.

"Yes, Master."

taglist: @paintedpigeon1 @haro-whumps @mj-or-say10 @annablogsposts

#Noct: you are just a little guy. small. grabbable #River: please stop #hoarding behavior #my writing #whump #slavery whump #captivity whump #possessive whumper

[plagued-melodies]

Genshin men finding out their s/o is a former god + sort of general dating headcanons

Xiao ⋄ Dainsleif ⋄ Venti ⋄ Zhongli ⋄ Scaramouche ⋄ Childe ⋄ Kazuha ⋄ Itto

A/N - nothing but pure fluff (and a dash of angst but shhh that's a surprise tool for later), first time writing something in this format, and just wanted to experiment a bit. The reader is G/N for each character ^^ SUPER long post btw sorry. If you want any other Genshin men or even women please let me know ^^. I tried keeping to gender-neutral pronouns and descriptions but if I messed up lmk!

Content warnings: Cursing and a bit of angst but nothing too bad and talks about marriage with Zhongli, Childe, and Venti

Xiao - The Vigilant Yaksha

It took a long time for you two to enter an official romantic relationship.

Not a fan of pet names but sometimes calls you his Lotus Flower <3

not only because Xiao was scared of hurting you, an otherwise beacon of light in his karmic fog, but because he believed that falling for a mortal would be nothing less than foolish.

That didn't stop Xiao's aching heart each time you came around keeping a close watchful eye on you though. Something about you just drew himself to you, almost as though some divine presence had urged him forward.

At least that was his excuse. Yeah no, don't listen to his protests, he's just head over heels and can't admit it without turning a bright shade of red.

so when you finally got past his tough-guy exterior and came face to face with a sincere, kind, and caring interior that could only look at you with such adoring eyes, you practically melted in each other's hold.

Xiao never took your relationship for granted, he believed that one day you'd succumb to your own mortality and that he should embrace and cherish every moment possible while he still has the chance.

so imagine his surprise and utter shock when he finds out you won't die?? Like this man was not prepared for this conversation, let alone being told you're a fricking god????

Xiao can't say he's not happy in some form. You'll have all the time in the world till erosion do you part. Not to say he isn't curious though, seeing as he has no recollection of your presence or mention during the archon war.

In short, you just didn't care. You had your own people to consider and didn't want to be tied to Celestia, however, with your people having long been gone (through natural circumstances) for many years, you took to traveling the nations.

Not much else changes really, with both of you being immortal Xiao is a bit more willing to be physically affectionate, knowing his karmic debt won't interfere much with your own physical well-being and he's become a lot more in need of things like hugs, hand-holding, and even small kisses when he feels anxious.

"I know you can take care of yourself but I still worry about you. You may be divine but you still have a physical body to care for... I can't always stand back while you throw yourself into danger you know..."

Dainsleif - Twilight Sword

Dainsleif has been alive for many, many years. Having long since accepted his cursed fate.

He's also not a fan of pet names but indulges in it when you're alone. He calls you sunbeam <3 He's often reminded of how you constantly remind him of the sun he once saw for the first time 500 years ago, only this time it's an ever-present breath of fresh air.

Similarly to Xiao, it will take a long time for him to accept that he's allowed to love and be loved. He believe that keeping to himself and fighting the abyss order alone was best.

But Celestia Damn it, you somehow squirmed into his life and he'd be damned if he let you squirm out as quickly. This man LOVES you okay? Like he'd fight an entire group of feral abyss heralds to make sure you're safe <3

The guilt of keeping this massive secret from Dain began to eat away at you as time went on as you are perfectly aware of his distrust in the Archons and just gods in general. How on earth were you supposed to tell him?! You didn't want to make him distrust you or see you as a threat, anything but that, please!

You.were.panicking

Of course, with Dain being the attentive lover he is and someone who's able to catch on to the subtlest of difference and totally not you becoming visibly anxious these changes in your demeanor don't go unnoticed and he urges you to open up to him.

I mean, it's only fair, right? You come strolling into his life and break down his barriers and make him feel things, so it'd only be right for you to confide in him with your worries - if you wanted to I mean that's your choice and he understands that. It'd be nice though.

With a heavy heart, and a nervous knot making its way into the pit of your stomach, you come clean to the poor knight.

Dainsleif is... surprised to say the least.

Out of everything to be told, being told your lover is a god was not one of them. Far from it actually.

undefined

He doesn't have an adverse reaction, he's just... wow how to even describe this feeling. He isn't disgusted or immediately put off by this fact. in fact, he's probably the more elated one between the two of you at that moment.

Dainsleif long since accepted that one day, after you're long gone, he'd be happy with the memories you gave him and that he would make his priority while you were here.

Not that this no longer made you a priority, but this made something in Dain snap like the rope holding himself together over a coursing river had suddenly torn.

He's been alone for so long, spent many nights with you next to him pondering whether or not he could handle your death. He's practically sobbing in relief when it hits him. He's not alone. He's finally not alone and the love of his life, of his eternity, will be there.

Dainsleif doesn't mind and even uses your divinity as an excuse to dote on you and do things for you that you are perfectly capable of doing at times.

Can't reach something? Don't fret he's on it. Carrying something that's a bit too heavy? What on earth were you thinking?! he's right there for a reason here let him get that for you, no longer your issue!

Dain only does this to tease you or make you flustered though, he only distrusted the main gods, Rex Lapis, Barbatos, etc. Those who would've been tied to Celestia more or less.

He loves you so so much <3

"Sunbeam, waking up next to you every day will never be a sight I grow tired of. I promise to try and be worthy enough for your grace..."

Venti - Anemo archon and Singer of Skyward Sonnets

Venti took a liking to you almost immediately, and boy did he fall hard for you quickly.

Calls you windblume (i know super original) <3

Literally, just you smiling at him as you tenderly helped him clean up from his drunken state and he was already planning your guys' future wedding.

I like to think Venti lives in the moment and doesn't fret much.

Yes, he's experienced great loss before and understands he is immortal, but he doesn't think he should allow that to impede his present and wants to live his life to the fullest.

And by fullest I mean drinking, singing, and trying to romance you bard style.

It works. somehow.

Don't ask him, Venti doesn't even know.

But Venti loves you nonetheless. Of course, he writes songs and ballads about you all the time. Everyone in Mondstadt, or just anyone who'll listen knows about how much he loves you and how lucky he is that you're his lover! HIS lover oh my Celestia he's getting all flustered thinking about it.

So telling him you were (technically) a former god wasn't something you were particularly nervous about.

I mean you still were a god, just weren't all too keen on being worshipped as such. And you were sure Venti felt the same way.

You were sure he'd be happy, and that it wouldn't really change things seeing as he was a god himself. You were right..... and wrong.

Venti was happy and static, yes, but it changed everything for him. Wondering how in Teyvat he never heard of you before and how it's just preposterous he didn't meet you sooner.

Most of his ballads now describe you as 'heavenly' and how you're "a gift sent from fate to be with him and to be together for all of eternity"

(inspired by someone else's headcanon) Venti would 100% try to change the books to at least include you and him falling in love, or at least make sure the wind spread the message <3

"Hey Windblume, have you heard my latest ballad on the untold story of how Barbatos fell in love with a serene god? No? Would you like to I was sure to make it as accurate as possible~ Ehehe"

Zhongli - Geo archon and God of Contracts

He's also suffered great loss in his life and is similar to Venti in terms of moving on. He resigned from his title of Geo Archon because he knew erosion would come for him too and he simply wanted to live.

So when this absolute blessing of an individual that is you waltz into his life as gracefully as ever (you accidentally spilled soup onto him while walking in the plaza with a to-go order

Though I wouldn't say planning your wedding fall for you, he's definitely imagining how you'd look as his lawfully wedded spouse in the far future.

Zhongli does often wonder at night if what he's doing is best, but then he sees the way your sleeping figure rests beside him and all his doubts are quelled right then.

He uses pet names gingerly, so nonchalantly and it kills you every time because he says them as easily as your name.

He loves using the name Chili for you since the soup you spilled on him had lots of chilis in it

Zhongli is a lot more slow-paced than Venti but a lot faster than Dain or Xiao (not that being slow or fast is bad tho <3). He's a true gentleman and wants nothing but the best for you!

Doesn't know that you know that he's a god himself, wants to wait a bit to tell you.

When he does tell you, that's when you decide to tell him. I mean, makes sense right? Kill two birds with one stone. Which was easier said than done.

When he told you he was an absolute stuttering mess at a loss for words on how to tell you. What if you left him? What if you wanted someone who would grow old with you? What if you felt inadequate?

Zhongli didn't mean to ramble he truly didn't, but the moment he opened his mouth he just couldn't stop but his words are cut short by a quick peck on his lips and the soft look in your eyes. You finally let him in on your own secret, just as nervous as he was but just as happy.

He's relieved, not as openly ecstatic as some others but he can feel a great burden lifted off his shoulders and it shows.

He's still in the mindset of "live in the present, thrive for the future" mindset but he at least has the knowledge that you'll be with him for it all.

Similar to Venti and Dain, Zhongli often uses your divinity to absolutely coddle you in private. During moments of pure domestic intimacy while you two sway to a slow song in your shared home.

"Good evening my dear, would you care to tell me of your day around the harbor over a glass of wine? I would want nothing more than to hear your voice fill my ears"

Scaramouche Kunikuzushi - The Balladeer

You've known him for a while, in passing. You weren't a part of the Fatui but instead were more or less someone the Tsaritsa would allow to come around (much to the confusion of the others)

Scaramouche was cruel, hostile, and only ever tolerated you. Knowing that your relationship with the Tsaritsa eld him back.

However, you slowly crept into his mind like a leech, and what went from disdain for you to being an absolute puppy in your presence.

Scara can't explain it, you just had this calming effect on him that he just fell to his knees for you (he was drunk and tired after a Fatui event, you were simply there to make sure he didn't get himself hurt but he refuses to acknowledge that and just lovingly says you bewitched him somehow <3)

must say that despite his tough exterior, when you unravel him he's unraveled for you and for you only. He's a lot softer and calmer around you and makes an effort to not hurt you, physically or emotionally.

melts at you calling him Kuni or just any nickname really, he can't muster up the courage to call you any nicknames

He's especially soft when he gains the gnosis and is now on the run. Not that he wanted you to follow him but you insisted.

After a while, he told you of his origins and his disdain for the archons as well, though you weren't as nervous about telling him of your godhood.

When you do, however, he doesn't believe you, it takes a lot of convincing but you finally get it through to him and it all starts making more sense.

Scaramouche is not particularly one way or the other, he is silently ecstatic you're immortal with him but wouldn't make a big deal of it, except when he's going out of his way to fluster you which is a lot harder since if you were ever in a relationship with this man you'd probably be a lot harder to fluster.

Isn't the best when it comes to words but will proudly show you how much he loves you and will state that only someone like you would be worthy of him when in reality he's constantly on edge about if you want someone worthier than him because boy does he have some abandonment issues.

Does go out of his way to make sure you're comfortable and will try to find any information on your impact as a god, no matter your protests about it being in the past.

"Well of course you'd love me, the divine are more likely worthy of the divine! Wait- no that doesn't mean I wouldn't love you if you weren't! I was just stating how it made more sense you- erghh I hate how much I love you at times..." (he secretly loves your teasing though don't worry)

Ajax Tartaglia - Codename: Childe and Foul Legacy

He's smitten for you, an absolute flirt, a real rapscallion of a player with your heart.... well more accurately you're the real rapscallion because you play him like a fiddle and he loves it

Does not matter if he knows you're a god or not, the moment you're in a relationship with him, he will absolutely worship you in every sense and spoil you like you're back to your glory days once more.

Because of his delusion and job he may have a shorter life span, this often puts a tear into your relationship for a bit, much to his confusion.

Tartaglia daydreams out loud to you CONSTANTLY. Often talking about your future and how he hopes to be wedded to you and have a small family, he adores you.

LOVES LOVES LOVES nicknames, will call you anything and everything!

His siblings love you just as much and he loves watching you play with them. Because you two live together their able to come around a lot more often even if he indulges himself like a workaholic and does not worry for his siblings' safety.

You know Tartaglia won't react badly, but it still makes you nervous about how he may react. You're worried that he'd want someone mortal and not someone eternal, someone who he knew would outlive him unnaturally as opposed to his profession.

You put on a suave act and confidently come clean minus the fact you're shaking like a leaf on the brink of tears and he melts.

uses every opportunity to use it to fluster you, he doesn't mind really he loves it because let's be real, he's a complete softie for his badass partner <3

Will now worship even worse, calling you every name in the book of how you were revered and will continue to use his position as Harbinger to get more info on you because Celestia damn it you deserve it.

You both equally worship one another, constantly complimenting and spoiling one another in lavish ways and daydreaming with one another.

He'd been hesitant about making you a sparring partner before because he was afraid of scaring you off or hurting you but now he's practically on his knees begging for you to fight him.

you don't use your divine powers often to fight but the first time Childe sees you do so he's awestruck and hyped up begging to have you use that against him in your next sparring match because it's so unfair that some scoundrels get to experience it but he doesn't, your lover, your future husband no less T^T how could you?

"Come on, please?! I promise I won't get hurt I just want to experience it once just once! Why do they get to and I don't? No, I don't care that they're now just corpses I know you wouldn't hurt me <3"

Kaedehara Kazuha - The Wondering Samurai

You're soft for him, and the fact he has such a soothing voice and calming aura doesn't quell that either.

It didn't take too long for you two to become close and practically a couple already.

Kazuha writing poem after poem about his 'very close friend' really started getting on Beidou's (loving) nerve because holy shit he would not shut up about you.

"Y/N this" and 'Y/N that" and "Y/N is a divine presence in my world" Beidou is ready to sew her ears shut (don't listen to her, she's just as bad about Ninnguang)

He also uses LOTS of nicknames, but like... you can't tell if they're nicknames because he'll use his poetic language to absolutely fluster you into a state of "are you describing me or-???"

I don't think he's not aware, probably something about the wind speaking to him about how, long after you're together, you are of divine origin.

bro really tries to come out to you about how you're a god, er well about how he knows you're a god instead of the other way around. Will literally use any example to let you know that he knows.

"My the weather here is quite beautiful despite the thundering storms earlier, what an odd occurrence my dear, its almost as if the divine themselves are present" 👁👁

Yeah Kazu, weird right...

When you do tell him, he doesn't change all that much. he makes some corny (but loving) poems about how he just knew you were an angel from the very moment he met you.

He understands that idea of mortality better than everyone else, and he often worries that you may begin to overthink your own immortality.

Loves that you treasure every moment with him just as he does with you <3

"Oh? Do you wish to tell me something of great importance? What are you nervous about? There's no need to fret. Ah well, I'm not sure what you can tell that the wind itself hasn't done so already. Still, I appreciate that you trust me enough to include me as much as you have."

Arataki Itto - The One and Oni

Let's be real here I dont think he'd really care.

Not in a way that's like dismissive or that he's not interested in you or your former life as a god.

No, it's more or less he just doesn't see you as someone to treat differently because of who you once were

You and Shinobu are super close too. She and Itto, although not related, act very much like siblings and when you first joined the gang it was Shinobu who helped you get acquainted and fit in with the group.

Being someone who didn't have much close family growing up (be it that you and your siblings are distant or you're an only child with distant or no parents), it was definitely a jarring experience to suddenly have such a close group like the gang.

While the members of the gang themselves acted like a family, you found that. even before you revealed your former identity, you were treated... differently.

The gang treated you super kindly and you still felt like you were a part of their family. It was actually Itto and Shinobu who began to act strange. Mostly Itto with him looking at you as though he's trying to compare you based on a memory of something else alone.

Turns out you weren't entirely underground with your former..... escapades as much as you thought

Turns out scholars and researchers are VERY much aware that this former god is still around since a recent spike in divine affairs had started discussions around mortal-acting gods. Oh if only they knew of a certain Liyue consultant~ *sigh*

You didn't realize this and still hold a mortal form very similar looking to your previous form, not that you would have changed it by much. That shit takes too much time honestly.

One of these scholars had begun to ask around the city and gang noticing the resemblance between some traveling merchant and some god?

Shinobu immediately began to connect the dots not too long after you joined and Itto, being her honorary brother and who was practically whipped for you the moment you joined, was included in her speculations.

The confrontation was awkward, to say the least.

Shinobu was trying to be more smooth about it while Itto was being blunt

They honestly don't think of you as anything more or less than what they know you as, Teyvat no longer relies so heavily on gods that aren't Archons and is moving past a time of the gods. Especially over a god who had no desire to be revered by mortals.

Itto comes up with the strangest nicknames.

Motherfucker once called you a Sea Ganoderma (lovingly)

you don't mind. You know he means well.

He likes to refer to you as his "One and Oni darling" and spends every moment he can to make sure you know how much he loves you.

overall soft vibes and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

If you want a part two, please request some characters or even prompts you guys have! Will make a post detailing what I will write for and what I will not write for :)

#reader insert #reader x canon #Reader x Kazuha #reader x Zhongli #reader x xiao #reader x Venti #reader x scaramouche #reader x Kunikuzushi #y/n #kazuha x y/n #scaramouche x y/n #xiao x y/n #Dainsleif x y/n #reader x dainsleif #itto x y/n #venti x y/n #zhongli x y/n #gn y/n #gn reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin men x reader #genshin men x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin impact #headcanons #Melodic Musings Post <3

[elucienweekofficial]

AO3 Collection・Instagram・Twitter・Masterlist

📝Fics:

I Was Enchanted To Meet You by @c-e-d-dreamer

Lead Me Into the Light by @velidewrites

A Blaze in the Dark by @the-lonelybarricade

Ars Amatoria by @fieldofdaisiies

Love's Secret Spell by @bennylavasbuns

Rita's Shenanigans by @vulpes-fennec

Foolish One by @darklove9314-blog

The Shot by @headcanonheadcase

The Fire Won't Burn Me by @separatist-apologist

Sunshine in Autumn by @asnowfern

The Burn of the Flush by @harperbrynne

Dreams That You Dare to Dream by @strawbrerian-writes

Northern Lights In Our Skies by @kingofsummer93

Pierce the Clouds by @ofduskanddreams

Daylight Always Comes by @wiltingxrose

Sunbeam by @writtenonreceipts

The Honeymooners by @iambutmortal

You Are My Life (And You Will Be My Eternity) by @elains

Cursed, Hexed, and Bonded by @thelovelymadone

Love and Light by @readingwritingwatching

🎨Art:

Elucien Magic artpiece by @devilsnightz

"Replace the sun when the night falls[...]" artpiece by @ratabrasileira

Violet Streak by @laxibbeb

Elucien magic art - comissioned by @separatist-apologist and artist @zolyna_

Elucienweek: Magic - comissioned by @acourtdelaluna and artist @cludiaa

Elucienweek art by @/June_Page

Elucien wedding by @/mei_lfon

Elucien Daphne and Apollo - comissioned by autorabjuliachs and artist @/rockieartt

Pride and Prejudice - commissioned by @sanktadu and drawn by @llibiarts

✨Magic✨by hmmr.art

Day 2: Magic by @lib-arts

Elucien art by @/daria_.arts

🎶Misc:

Blossoms: elucien playlist by @tuzna-pesma-snova

Magic moodboard by @velidewrites

Elucien theory by @acourtofthought

The Magic of Restoring a Land by @acourtofthought

-

If we missed one of your contributions, kindly reach out to one of our event runners!

🎨: mallorydraws

#Elucien #Elucienweek2023 #Elucienweek #Elain Archeron #Lucien Vanserra #Elain x Lucien #Lucien x Elain #Elucien fic #Elucien fanfiction #Elucien fanart #prompt: magic

[meerawrites]

Heads up seven up...

Tagged by: @cream-and-tea ~ thank you!

Tagging: @malicious-compliance-esq, @musicboxmemories, @amberlynnmurdock, @tricornonthecob, @amielbjacobs, @mrbexwrites, & @flower-crowned-lady.

Read the full story here.

I can’t math, so you lovely people get two scenes that are deliberately back to back with each other.

September 14th, 1781.

A night later.

Audrey stood at the inn's front door. Benjamin was all done up in blue and gold, his hair brushed and himself, cleanly shaven. Perhaps it is the fact she fears losing him completely, though why Audrey still doesn’t know. Benjamin seemed more certain of himself now he carried himself with all the grace befitting one on Washington’s staff and a Major of the continental army.

Benjamin smiles but there is an underlying sadness to it, a sadness that will plague him until his task is complete.

Standing on her tip-toes, despite her heeled and blue buckled lady's shoes. Audrey kissed Benjamin one chastely on the lips and once lingering on the cheek.

“Stay alive,” Audrey stated somewhat commandingly, trying for a semblance of certainty. Surprisingly, it worked. “And give those lobsters a taste of their own medicine, oui?” she asked a half question, remarkably less certain this time.

Tallmadge took Audrey’s pink gloved hands and kissed the top of her hand.

“As my lady insists,” he half teased. “Especially for you,” he jokingly prodded Audrey.

An airy laugh falls from Audrey’s for once not painted lips.

“I’ve only been fighting the ruffians for six years. But I shall persist… for our America, for God, and for you,” Tallmadge said.

Audrey smiled gently, as she held in her own dread. It was not the time. She was not the one facing an empire and she had died, to the world, not in any proper way, she prayed for the first time in over a decade that Benjamin Tallmadge would not face death, at least– not here and not now.

“Stay alive,” Audrey repeated to Benjamin as Tallmadge mounted his horse and rode for Washington’s encampment.

Can I leave thee, can I leave thee?

September 19th, 1781.

It had occurred to Audrey early on how foolish this endeavor could be. how foolish she could make herself seem, especially to her own kind, vampire kind. In fact, when she took him to bed she had fully intended to use it as a defense mechanism against Benjamin Tallmadge. She had never intended… She had told herself she only ever said: “I love you,” as a farce in the throes of passion, a necessary lie, and yet, as she hears the distant sounds of gunfire she cannot help that her heart hurt and twisted as though trying not to snap in half in fear and shock. She did, rather, she does love him… Benjamin, her sunbeam who shines. Just… stay alive.

I'll sell my rod, I'll sell my reel, Likewise I'll sell my spinning wheel, And buy my love a sword of steel…

#fic: anti hero #benjamin tallmadge #ben tallmadge #oc: audrey #ben x oc #human x vampire #canon x oc #turn fanfiction #18th century #american revolution #turn: washington's spies #turn amc #amc turn #turn washington's spies #battle of yorktown #writing historical fiction #writing horror #meerawrites #vampires #historical fiction #dash games #tag games #bisexual #queer #lgbtq+

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

Planar Tears, pt. 2// Rolan/GN human Isekai

yeah ok I have so much brainrot and plot thoughts so here’s some more. Will I just write this fic properly in the end? Who knows.

2

After initially panicking, Rolan decides that the best thing to do is keep the stranger hidden in this cave - where there is at least a little fresh water, and a hole in the roof that lets the moonlight through. The druids are already on high alert about intruders, and Rolan does not think Kagha will take lightly to one who can’t even explain themselves. He doesn’t wake Cal and Lia either, ashamed of his own foolishness in attempting far too difficult a spell.

Instead, he and the strange human have a difficult, abortive conversation in charade, unable to communicate much beyond (Rolan hopes) that they should trust him and do as he says. He tries to go back to the bedroll he slipped from in the first place, but cannot sleep with worry and self-recrimination. How is he supposed to care for this person, and get them alive to Baldur’s Gate? At least there, perhaps Lorroakan can send them back to the right plane. And right now, leaving them defenceless in a cave to sleep, where they might be discovered and killed on the spot -

He takes the damned bedroll, and moves it to the cave.

In the morning, he wakes to see the stranger pacing the cave. The moment he sits up, their eyes are on him, their mouth speaking alien words that they must know cannot be understood. It sounds like questions, frustration, confusion. None of it angry, just tired. Eventually, they run out of words, and mime that they’re hungry.

Sunbeams are beginning to dance through the hole in the roof, and Rolan realises he needs to get back to the other tieflings, before Cal and Lia realise something is off. After breakfast, he needs to find a way to communicate. They could be stuck together for a month - or - permanently. No. He can’t allow himself to think about that.

‘Eating for two?’ Ethel snarks at him, as he goes back for seconds from the vast cauldron of porridge that constitutes breakfast. Gods, he never wants to eat porridge again. Especially not like this, made with watered-down milk because the druids will only spare so much. And the porridge sits so much worse in his stomach when Ethel smiles and tells him she won’t tell anyone about his ‘friend’. After all, she likes desperate people. They’re the easiest to cut a bargain with.

3

Rolan watches his stranger eating their breakfast in worried silence. No-one else seems to have noticed the trail of malignant magic that clouds Ethel like rotting seaweed. If only the damned druids would leave their ritual alone long enough to notice her presence - but that will never happen. Having ceded the caves to the tieflings, they are determined to avoid them as much as possible, until the moment the thorns expel them forever.

The human smiles at him, a smile that makes him feel an unbidden flicker of warmth. Gods no. Rolan hurries to his feet and leaves in agitation, knowing very well what he felt and denying it anyway. This person is practically his prisoner.

He drowns it out with practicalities. It seems to him that they must learn some Common. But to do that - with any ease beyond the years-long agony of teaching a child, a task Rolan thinks of with horror - he needs magical assistance. He’s heard of a spell called Tongues, but who here could cast it? Or - perhaps Detect Thoughts. That way, he can at least show them things beyond the cave. Communicate other ideas.

In the end, he goes to Arron, one of the few original grove inhabitants who will still have anything to do with the tieflings, and produces much more than he wants to from his coinpurse to beg for just one mind-reading potion - only for Arron to refuse. He won’t say why, but it’s obvious; Kagha herself probably told him not to sell the tieflings a single thing that might threaten the Druids. Arron is unrepentant in his refusal, and Rolan snaps in his face, tells him he’s a pathetic, snivelling coward who he would drag to Avernus personally if he actually knew how to. No tiefling does, of course, but if the people of Faerûn are so damned determined to believe it, he’ll let them. They can all sink to the Hells, when he becomes a great wizard.

Before they all get summarily cast out from the Grove, Cal intervenes, but he can’t wrangle a single word of explanation from Rolan about why he needed the potion in the first place. And then Rolan retreats, right back to his hiding place, no further forward than the last time he left.

It seems the same questions are on his stranger’s mind, because when he gets back the floor is covered in writing, strange letters etched into the dirt.

#bg3 rolan #rolan #fic ideas #isekai #trying to exorcise these plot bunnies #before I write another long fic #please I have too much shit to do already

[sleepytimedaycare]

You Should Be Scared Of Me

Features: Lee!Jack-O-Moon, ler!Moonbeam, lee!Moonbeam, ler!Jack-O-Moon, tickling

“So your name is…Jack-o-Moon?”

The apparent new addition to the Pizzaplex snickered and nodded in response to Sunbeam’s question, causing the sun animatronic to frown and cross his arms. He wasn’t sure if he really believed him, especially considering he looked very little like his sweet-hearted Moonbeam.

Moonbeam, for their part, didn’t seem as fazed by the other’s appearance. “Maybe he’s meant as a special Halloween animatronic?” they suggested softly.

“But it’s not even February!” Sunbeam exclaimed. “How does this make any sense?”

“Since when did Fazbear Entertainment ever make any sense?” Moonbeam pointed out.

Sunbeam let out a reluctant sigh. Moonbeam did have a point.

“Fine, I suppose,” he mumbled out, barely stifling a yawn. “I’m a little too tired to deal with this right now. Do you mind showing him around, Moonflower?”

Moonbeam nodded, a gentle smile on their face as they pressed a quick kiss to Sunbeam’s cheek. “Good night, sunflower,” they said softly. Sunbeam gave them a small smile, giving them a peck on the cheek in return before reaching out to grab the cable and ride it back up to his room.

Jack-o-Moon giggled, the sound raspy and honestly a bit spooky. “Tsk tsk, the sun flew away…” he crooned out. “Left his light all alone in the dark with the monster.”

Moonbeam tilted their head. “I can’t tell if you’re just trying to be scary or not,” they replied, before reaching out to gently boop Jack-o-Moon in the center of his faceplate. “But I don’t see any monsters here.”

“Foolish little light,” Jack-o-Moon chuckled, taking a step forward. “I am the monst- Ha!” He was cut off midway through his sentence when he felt something scribble over his side, and his eyes narrowed at the shorter lunar animatronic.

“What. Was. That.”

Moonbeam just giggled. “I knew it.”

Jack-o-Moon huffed. “Stop laughing! I am the monster that will haunt your drehehehe wait stop it!”

He jerked away from the feeling of Moonbeam’s fingers wiggling over his stomach, glaring at the innocently smiling naptime attendant.

“You know,” Moonbeam chirped, this time taking a step towards Jack-o-Moon. “For a monster, you seem to be terribly ticklish. Would be a shame if this got back to Sunbeam, don’t you think?”

Jack-o-Moon let out a low growl. Again, Moonbeam seemed completely unfazed by the sound.

“In a way, you’re lucky you were left with me. If Sunbeam had been more awake, he’d be taking full advantage of your cute little weakness.”

They winked, offering him a hand.

“So, are you going to behave yourself and let me give you a proper tour of the daycare?”

Jack-o-Moon grumbled under his breath. On one hand, he didn’t like being told what to do. On the other hand, he didn’t know if it was safe for him to call Moonbeam’s bluff.

“Hmph. Fine.”

“That’s the spirit,” Moonbeam said encouragingly, though when it became apparent that Jack-o-Moon didn’t exactly have any intention to take their hand they merely let it drop and turned around to start leading Jack-o-Moon towards the play structures.

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best idea; the moment their back was turned they felt more than heard Jack-o-Moon pounce on them, making them stumble and fall.

“I said I’d behave…but I never said I wouldn’t tickle you back.”

That night, Sunbeam fell asleep to the sound of Moonbeam’s squealing laughter.

#my writing #five nights at freddy's #security breach #fnaf tickles #lee!moonbeam #lee!jack-o-moon #ler!moonbeam #ler!jack-o-moon #fnaf

[drowning-in-cacophony]

fools and love

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt 237: A Fool's Quest

[Summary: to fall in love with her is a foolish thing to do]

“You had to know it would end like this,” she says. Gently, of course, because she’s not a monster. Not quite kindly, because there’s always a crispness when she talks, a bit of a bite that she’s never been able to sand down.

Her lover stares at her, eyes cast in shadow: the sun’s rays have blanketed the place in the shadows of the walls, the darkness warm as it pools into every crevice that can be found.

“I thought it would be different,” her lover says eventually.

“You thought you would be different.” Not kind indeed, for she has to correct that. It’s a correction that comes with a flinch, small and shuddering through her lover’s shoulders.

“I thought we would be different.” A correction in turn, a volleyball kept bouncing into the air. “I didn’t think it’d happen with us.”

“I did warn you.” Because she had; she warns all of them. To fall in love with her is to end the same way every time, and it’s never a happy ending. Can it be? She’s long had her doubts. They climb her like ivy, weaving through the cracks every person she loses leaves her with. But then she keeps catching their eyes, keeps letting them draw on in. Maybe she’s just as complicit in this all.

She just can’t ever stop it. Even if it all ends this same way, a new scar dug into her heart.

Darkened eyes, now sour in upset. “How can it be the same every time? Over and over?”

She sighs, a quiet breath over a misty morning, and shifts her weight a little closer. A sunbeam, errant in its own shadows, drops over the bones of her hand as she lifts it to carefully cup her lover’s cheek. Skin so warm and soft under her touch, reactions still the same even now – an instinctive lean to her palm. The love’s not gone yet, but then she didn’t expect it to. It never is.

That’s what makes it worse.

“It’s a fool’s quest, trying to love me,” she says, words echoed like reverberations down a string – as long as infinity. She’d told them to her lover at the start, and now she’ll close it out the same way. She’s told every single face before her. A warning, an alarm bell. Don’t fall in love with me, she says, don’t be a fool. They’re all such brave faces, determined and strong; all of them think themselves different. Perhaps it is them that cannot help themselves, for there is something about her that drags them against the impossible, has them fixing their eyes to that out of reach apex. It’s a fool’s quest, and she’s managed to rake them in by the handful. Her lovely, beautiful fools.

Her lover exhales, the dew on the ground. Their lips tremble slightly, their lashes fluttering a butterfly’s song.

“I remember you told me that.”

“And yet you continued.”

“You did too.” A flash; eyes that summon their own sun in indignance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have.”

She smiles, sadly. Always sadly, always gently, because they don’t deserve the harshness even if their words end that way. She strokes over their cheekbone once, twice. The smoothness of their skin like a balm she never wants to drop.

“You had a choice,” she reminds, gently. “I told you not to.”

Her lover turns their head, away from her palm; it drops to her side, the feeling of their skin lingering as an echo. She watches how they breathe in, harsh as the wind, the feelings doing battle in their shadow-spilled eyes. They know what she’s saying’s right, as much as she knows that having a choice isn’t the same as really understanding it. They all think they might end up differently. The others, maybe they failed for a reason. The story can be different this time.

And, perhaps the most stupidly, she always lets herself have that grain of hope, that maybe they’re right. That grain that encourages them, when they feel it burgeoning a fire in her skin, lighting up her eyes.

A fool’s quest. Maybe she should read the phrase differently. She is the fool that the others quest for.

Her lover takes another harsh breath and glances back. Magnetised, planets in orbit, and their eyes caress over her. A parched person taking the deepest drink, quenching every inch of themselves.

“I’m sorry that it wasn’t different.”

“That’s okay.”

“I don’t think it is, really.” Her lover closes their eyes for a moment. “Do you think it’ll hurt?”

And she, she is gentle and sad but never quite kind; the truth peeks through even the most tightly woven lie.

She takes her lover’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, and knows her lover will be stung by the truth when she answers, “No.”

#flash fiction friday #flash fiction #writeblr #short story #anna's writing #word count: 803 #I liked this prompt a lot actually #made for a fun interpretation if I do say so myself

[csphire]

Meet Tav (Gustav the VIII)

Legal Name: Gustav the VIII, Future Duke of the House of Sunshard

Nickname / Aliases: Tav / That Foolish Brat He's not fond of his first name Gustav as he shares it with his father, his grandfather, and so forth in his lineage. It takes him a while to open up to Astarion, and later the others, about his proper name, past, and not-so-happy "privileged" life. His mother gave him the nickname Tav, and it stuck. It's his father and grandfather who usually call him "That Foolish Brat." Background: Noble Age: 26 Pronouns: He / Him / They Race/Subrace: High Half-Elf Alignment: Chaotic Good Deities: It's complicated. Lathander, Mystra, Loviatar and Ilmater Class / Subclass: Bard / Wizard Instruments of Choice: Flute / Violin / Lute Weapons of Choice: Hand Crossbows, Daggers, Staves, Mace and Shield

Love Interest: Astarion Their relationship was a bit bumpy at first. Although both were snatched up in Yartar they had not officially met until crossing paths on the beach after the crash of the nautiloid. Before that, as Tav performed in a tavern he had watched Astarion prowl the crowd night after night and eventually ended up whispering sweet nothings in another young nobleman's ear. Tav found the colorfully dressed elf handsome but by now knew a charlatan on the hunt when he saw one. He followed the two out in concern that Astarion was going to rob the other man or do something worse but the two of them ended up abducted instead. The noble Tav would like to think was spared. Astarion on the other hand at first assumed Tav an easy mark for later. Pretty but far too gullible, and idealistic given all who the half-elf helped. Astarion also presumed by the young man's attire and easygoing manner that he had zero understanding of hardship or the dark underbelly of this world.

Then, after learning the nature of all of Tav's physical scars and background, he was left baffled. He couldn't understand why anyone would flee from such a life of seemingly rich comforts and safety to barely eke out a living by performing music alone. But eventually, he came to realize just how trapped Tav felt in his old life. How the younger man had no room to breathe and be himself. It paled to his own suffering but the yearning for freedom was still something they both held in common and bonded over. Best Friends: Gale and Wyll Tav is friends with all of his companions. However, when it comes to Gale there is a mentorship aspect to their friendship as well due to they are both wizards. With Wyll they relate to one another deeply by being a part of nobility and an inability to obey or please their fathers.

Personality: Among his peers, he was always a touch aloof but polite at first. He's learned from court life to always be on guard and to listen more than talk. All to learn enough to unleash either the sharpest of retorts to anyone who dared to insult him first or the sweetest complement to charm. He maybe haughty at times, but only to cover up the fact he's actually quite shy when it comes to dealing with people, especially one-on-one. At his first ball, he soon found standing and chatting in a large group easier as it mostly involved observation. "So many like to hear themselves talk. I say let them," he decided with a smile. If any focus fell upon him, Tav learned quickly to pivot it to another when the need arose. It was only when he started to perform before a crowd, the more raucous and lower class the better, he found the courage to drop his mask at long last, cut loose, and rediscover his true playful self. "Why under that thin layer of ice you're as warm as a sunbeam and such a sweetheart," Astarion would tease but lightly. Bio: Tav was born to a rich family who can trace their lineage back farther than the founding of Baldur's Gate. Like most of the city's nobles, as the heir to his family line, he was highly educated and sheltered well beyond his childhood. He was also expected to find someone suitable and marry to continue the Sunshard line. Once puberty hit, however, Tav could no longer stand his family's guided cage or their carefully laid plans for his life.

At first woefully naive about the world beyond his family's garden wall and court life, he rebelled, ran away, and ended up with a few scars after a near-fatal fight. But from them, he also learned more about himself and life in general. Each time he wiggled free, he managed to stay out of his father's and grandfather's clutches a little longer. At first, it was a handful of days but by his late twenties, he managed to dodge them and survive all on his own for over a year.

In fact, on his recent nineteenth attempt, he had made it all the way to Yartar. There he hoped to finally be beyond his family's reach. He had been an established bard for a few months with no sign of any of his father and grandfather's hirelings or mutual acquaintances. He was at last happy and fully prepared to be disowned. A threat his father had made when they last spoke. But then one terrible night he along with Astarion and countless others were abducted by mindflayers.

Trapped in one of their pods his only small comfort was knowing his mother might continue to think he's only fled from the nest again. That he was out enjoying the world and doing what he loves. Unlike his father, she never begrudged him for taking off and only demanded he send word home to assure her of his safety now and then. Given all that's happened he's not sure where to begin and just how much he should leave out, least upset her.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #tav oc #I just keep making them #OC Gustav BG3 #bard #wizard #brat #noble #mama's boy

[sennamybeloved]

sapphire roses.

selfshiptober day 5: flowers.

▬▬ ship: lucian x senna x seren (s/i)

▬▬ warnings: none!

▬▬ author’s note: it's been like... well over a year since i've written for both of these guys at once. that's scary. i needed to change that.

▬▬ tag list: @dragonselfship @dudefrommywesterns @minkymeatshop @wanderers-wife @fallen-for-them

▬▬ reblogs always appreciated! ♡

Perhaps one of the oldest lessons to ever cement itself into Seren’s mind is the sacrality of nature. It's a balanced creature that will give if you give, and take back what you steal tenfold. One must never cause unnecessary disturbances to the land; do not hunt more than you can eat, do not prune and pick the lush gardens which do not grow for you, do not poison or destroy the precious all-mother or her children. The First Lands are both caretaker and butcher, a welcoming home for some and a graveyard for many.

Seren has roamed these forests for centuries, and in this time, she has been nothing but reverent. She has grown cold and callused toward most living things, but the all-mother? Never. Nature is her home, her temple, the womb which she blossomed from.

She has given selflessly, only taking measured sips in return. While she did live off the land for many, many years, she also fearlessly defended that same land from the humans that infiltrated and ravaged it; there is a very good reason the citizens of Kumangra utter fearful tales about a furred, man-eating beast that stalked the coastal forests.

So, as Seren stands in those very same forests all these years later, smoothing over the soft petals of the famed sapphire roses with a calloused thumb, she wonders what difference just two flowers would make.

Slender fingers curl around the first pale, thorny stem, tugging it free from the frost-kissed bush. She then repeats the action with a second. Both flowers, cradled delicately between her palms, glitter in the moonbeams which filter through the canopy above.

“Thank you, Ighilya.” A gentle invocation spoken into the  crisp night air. If you must take, the least you can do is be polite about it.

That is where Seren’s midnight rendezvous ends. With the two flowers resting gently in her satchel, she begins her trek back to Kumangra. As she emerges from the undergrowth and joins the other late-night travelers on the path into the town, the irony of her situation becomes all the more clear to her. She once slaughtered a man—a poacher, pompous and foolish, who thought himself to be larger than life—behind the inn she currently holds a room in. She wonders in passing if the settlers here still fear her. Do they still spin tales about her? Would it be possible for anyone to recognize her? She pulls the velvety cloak (Senna’s cloak, graciously lended to her to as protection from the evening chill) closer to her body as she hurries down the path.

The innkeeper pays her little mind. He’s worn, she can tell; he cares naught for pleasantries or expositions, he simply wants his coin and to be left alone besides. Despite his nonchalance, Seren has trouble detaching herself from his energy. As a matter of fact, she’s having trouble detaching herself from anything that’s happening inside this inn tonight. She passes a dozen locked doors, each of which emits its own unique string of feelings and misplaced thoughts—a small glimpse into what rules within. 

She’s used to getting these little glimpses (it’s not like she can entirely shut them out, anyways) but usually, she can at least control how much attention she lends to each of them. Right now, she feels overwhelmed, which is odd for a night that was going so well. Perhaps she shouldn’t have worked herself up over thoughts of hunters.

Then, she feels it, warm like sunbeams and sweet like honey; two familiar presences emitting from just behind the door ahead. The feeling envelopes her like a welcoming embrace. Without hesitation, she reaches for the rusty  doorknob and twists.

Their room is a small, odd-looking snuggery that’s architecture isn’t quite Ionian but still couldn’t be called anything else. The beds are comfortable enough and the building is very quiet.

Lucian and Senna are still wide awake, just as Seren expected. They were both doing their own things before she entered (Lucian was polishing the intricate metalwork of his guns, Senna was removing her bulky jewelry and setting it neatly on the bedside table in preparation for attempting sleep) but when the door opens, their gazes snap over to her, and everything else forgotten.

“Seren,” Senna speaks first. “You’re back.”

Seren smiles in reply. “Told you I wouldn’t be gone long.”

“That sure as hell felt like a long time,” Lucian’s voice is gruff and tired. His indignant front does not phase her; she can tell that it’s a cover-up for genuine worry.

“Awe. Good to know you still care about me.” She taunts, and Lucian lets out a short huff.

Seren joins the pair of them on the bed they share, placing her satchel in her lap and resting her palms on it. Her tail curls around her body, tucked neatly against her side.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t get attacked,” Seren says. “Not by animals or humans. Didn’t get lost, either.”

She references the countless times she’s gone out for walks whilst they are staying in foreign territories. The amount of times she’s almost died in Demacian forests is confounding.

“That’s only because this is your home,” Senna responds, prompting Seren to chuckle. 

“I suppose you’re right.” It is also because she was the hunter in these woods for many years, but yes, she’ll allow them to go with that.

A brief pause, and then, Lucian speaks. “Your bag smells like roses.”

Roses, yes. It does. Seren had almost forgotten about the sapphire roses she’d stolen from the forest. She has gotten so used to their aroma that she hadn’t even noticed the way it fills the room. She must’ve turned many heads during her walk back.

“Yeah,” Senna concurs. “What is that?”

“Oh. I got you guys something.” Seren opens her satchel and reaches in, gingerly plucking the cerulean-petaled roses from their resting place. Both of her partners lean over her shoulders, watching intently, captivated by the prospect of a gift.

“One for you,” the first flower is placed gently into Senna’s outstretched hand. Deft fingers curl around its thorny stem. Emerald green eyes glisten with delight. She brings it up to her nose and inhales its ambrosial scent.

“And one for you.” The second flower is offered up to Lucian. For a brief moment, he just stares at it, quietly examining its beauty. Then, almost timidly, he reaches for the stem as well, taking it from Seren’s grasp. His other hand comes up to stroke its silken, iridescent petals.

A proud grin pulls at the corners of Seren’s mouth. They’re both pleased with their gifts, she knows it. She feels it.

“Wow. These are beautiful.” Senna says after a moment, voice raw with wonder.

Lucian continues her line of thought.  “And you just… found these growin’ out in the woods?”

Seren nods in reply. “Yeah. They’re sapphire roses. They grow wild in the forests around here. They’re heavily sought after by merchants and flower collectors due to their unique scent. People usually pick them until there’s no more left to be had. It’s a wonder that I found these.”

Senna tuts disapprovingly. Her face still rests near the flower. “That’s terrible.”

“Isn’t it?” Seren is suddenly filled with vigor; she still harbors her hatred toward those goddamn merchants and collectors, even all these years later. “I used to have to chase them out of the woods, when I was staying around here.”

Senna chuckles, giving Seren a look. “You used to chase people out of the woods?”

Yeah. And hurt them real bad, sometimes. They always deserved it. “I’m scary.” Seren shrugs.

“She’s scary.” Lucian concures. The topic is left there.

“These are beautiful, Seren.” Senna places her flower gently atop her lap. Her (now free) hand comes to rest on Seren’s arm. She wears a kind, grateful smile.  “Thank you.”

Seren feels her face getting hot. “Yeah, of course.”

Lucian doesn’t say very much. He simply leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of Seren’s head. “You’re a sweetheart, thinkin’ of us like that.”

Seren laughs shyly, casting her gaze downward. “I mean, of course. You’re– Yeah… I think about you guys a lot.”

#lotus writes #selfshiptober #selfshiptober 2023 #✦ * · ˚ — self insert: seren . #【 💚 】 ✦ * · ˚ — death is drawn to life │ r: senna . #【 🖤 】 ✦ * · ˚ — a steadfast heart │ r: lucian . #【 🌿 】 ✦ * · ˚ — i live to let you shine │ polyship: lucian + senna .

[daekie]

so...... ⚾ Blaseball, huh?

see the thing with putting all my work in a one-last-hurrah message in the fanwork channel is that i don't have enough characters left to talk about almost anything else. so INSTEAD here's a masterpost of my work i guess!

and it's all of the eyes on the way it's going

There was something... there was something they were supposed to say. Something they were meant to carry through the rift. Some information Wyatt Mason wanted to hold close to their chest, because it could change everything, if they just - but there’s nothing there except the same crackling static that would make them jump, if they felt alive enough for that. Wyatt Mason III was pulled through the Rift. Wyatt Mason III Localized into the Georgias' lineup.

2938 words, 1 chapter. Written before I actually had any real feelings or opinions on that wet little guy (said with immense fondness) & the first real piece of writing I did for Blaseball. I think I've gotten a lot better since this, but it's not bad, and I'm still pretty proud of the workskin I made for it.

for you, home is a cemetery

The light shining overhead casts everything in dangerous gold, and the players standing in perfect rank and file are no better and no safer: the Aequitas Representatives, here to take the challenge proposed by the Seattle Garages, here to remind a pesky little team what their place is and how foolish it is to fight a god. 6x200 snapshots of those terrible, brittle years, smothered and kept and preserved under a god's thumb for her purposes and her purposes alone.

1200 words (6x200), 1 chapter. AO3 says it's 1201 but it's lying I think. The Wyatts Mason, in a world where the Coin arranged their Localization and corporate drone teenagers scare the living shit out of me; inspired by @zayphora's original Aequitas AU.

you'll lead all your friends like lemmings to a slaughter

Season 14, Day 86. Wy█tt M██on III Ech█ed █yatt Mas██ ███ — ECHO Wyatt Mason III STATIC ECHO Wyatt Mason VIII STATIC

3387 words, 1 chapter. The aftermath of and it's all of the eyes on the way it's going. Wyatt Mason III Three hasn't even picked an actual name yet besides 'not Wyatt', and they've only been alive for fourteen days, but they know they're not walking off that field at the end of this game. Written after I'd been playing them on Twitter for some time, so it's a lot more consistent with a lot of things!

i'm no ghost, no fool

The first thing David Gray needs you to know is that their name is not David Gray. (is this worth crying for? is stepping up to bat worth dying for?)

2852 words, 1 chapter. Dialogue-only. In a Short Circuits world, Atlantis Georgias shadows player David Gray has some things they need to get off their chest, and a Fan's the only person who can hear them say it (literally). Good thing they can spot a Fan at a hundred paces.

a short list of stars that died this year (or: i’m screaming every requiem i know at the suns)

i’m screaming every requiem i know at the suns & someone is singing a mourning song. Nagomi Nava reflects, after the end of the world.

6967 words, 2 chapters. Written as part of the Sunbeams' 2022 Solstice exchange for orionexperiment#0951. Nagomi Nava experiences the Semi-Centennial, makes an odd friend in Tillman Henderson while she's at it, and makes her way through Season 24 and the end of the universe. This thing fucking rocks honestly, I don't even think it reads too well but I'm incredibly proud of it still.

radio station 19.14

11666 words spread across two fics. Written for the Tokyo Lift Fic Exchange. Jessica Telephone Voicemail and Wyatt Mason (Season 14 birth) Jasmine Mason have a midnight talk about not being that person you took your name and face from, and what it means to be you, and the team that loved a girl they barely even got to know. Fics can be read in any order. Includes:

the only way i know how to say sorry is "better luck next time"

One day, in the static she hears every time she picks up a phone, she hears a voice. The voice doesn’t sound like Jessica Telephone. If it did, she’d put the phone down immediately; deals like the kind Jessica made can’t really be taken back, but that was a determined girl, and she’d make a determined haunt, too. But it doesn’t sound like her voice, or her own, or otherwise. It sounds like a teenage girl. Jessica Telephone isn’t the only girl here who might as well be someone else's ghost.

5533 words, 1 chapter. I tagged this with Minor Parasocial Relationships / alt jess is weird about jessica. its parasocial its antagonistic its envious its Really Something / JESSICA ISNT EVEN HERE GIRL. WHAT ARE YOU HUNG UP ON and I stand by that. This is Jessica Voicemail's side of the conversation!

my theologies strewn out in the dark

At least she herself was able to say that’s not me, that’s my name, that’s not me, I want to be something else. She doesn’t think Jessica has said that, or maybe even thought it to herself; who wouldn’t want to be Jessica Telephone? From the outside, wouldn’t it be a gift, to live a life so rich? (Wouldn’t it be a gift, to be a splinter of a god who saw everything but never saw it coming? It always looks better from the outside.) Jessica Telephone isn’t the only girl here who might as well be someone else’s ghost: or, what that looks like from another camera angle: or, hey, who decides what the real Ship of Theseus is, anyway?

6133 words, 1 chapter. Jasmine's side of the conversation. Eldest daughter syndrome applies even if you're a weird sound ghost and Jas has got it bad. When she can't do anything, why would she ever let herself do anything less than as much as possible?

spinning on this infinite road

a collection of fics written for the game band's blasetober 2022 prompts, all written as 12x100s.

8675ish words, 6 chapters. Covers prompts THE BOOK, CERTIFIED BLASEBALL MOMENT, BIRDS, PEANUTS, A BLESSING, A CURSE, and PARKER.

oh, it's time for another vendetta

This is a body he hasn’t known since before the PODS. This is a body he had no say in leaving behind. This is a body that is his and is not his. York doesn’t know he’s crying until he feels the heat on his face. or: york silk backslides on his mental health recovery, because who ever put 'being eight years old again' in their twelve-step plan?

1628 words, 1 chapter. Set in Sonder's Salmon & Snake AU, where post-S24 the League resets back to S1 but with randomized rosters, and the only players who remember the original timeline are Hall Stars and Legends.

I've also done some ficlets from ask memes -- York Silk's protagonist halo & the vault's heel population, and Trip Mason & Jaybot and accepting the fact things won't get better. And I roleplay(ed) Wyatt Mason III & Siobhan Chark on Twitter!

Non-fanfic stuff I've made includes the following (it's 99% community-billboard stuff):

Everything on this I can back up except putting the Wyatts and Wyatt Prime on separate levels.

(at some point i WILL make a final version of this; this one doesn't include s24 + short circuits i think. but. yknow. it is what it is.)

mock takeovers for fan-entities the Archivist (the first two) & the Catalyst (the third one)

propaganda for early expansion era -- i think this is s13-s14?

late expansion era propaganda. the second one isn't even a good edit but i still think it's funny.

propaganda for short circuits. we could've been the atlantis peanuts.... i wanted it so bad

& some coronation era propaganda. very happy with that first knight ump one.

...and then i also did some playlists (raw meat, static echo)...

and during coronation, i drew my design for mckinney vaughan...

...and i did a moodboard for MaX (Wyatt Mason X)...

oh yeah and I also did text post memes. first set, second set, third set, georgias set.

it's been a good run, yall! onwards to whatever comes next. (& ofc i'll still be blaseballing -- i'll probably be playing around in this setting forever and ever.)

#blaseball #daestuff

[platonic-activity]

Ignis Fatuus (Foolish Flame)

Chapter 4

Read here on AO3

Her visit with Mulder was a blur. He was irritable and tired. Mulder isn’t the type of person who is comfortable sitting still and resting. She knows this from his prolonged rehabilitation after taking a slug to the femoral artery during their first year working together. She had played a naive Clarice Starling to a psychopath and it had ended with Mulder nearly bleeding to death on a dock. She remembers that feeling of dread when she couldn’t assess his blood loss because it was pouring through the decking into the water below. 

He had overextended himself today. Of that she is certain. It is a sobering thought. That a short walk to purchase some groceries is still too much for him in his current state. Open brain surgery is brutal requiring a six-week minimum recovery. That is when they know exactly what was done. The upside is there appeared to be minimal violence to his parietal bone considering he had endured an unscheduled craniotomy. 

His vitals were normal. Blood pressure and pulse textbook but a little higher than normal for a man in his level of physical fitness. He tersely answered her uncomfortable questions. His breath sounds were normal. Her fears of a pulmonary embolism or massive infection were allayed. 

It wasn’t until she removed his bandage that she began to worry again. Of course, this was itchy. He has the beginnings of a localized infection around his sutures. She had slammed her eyes closed worried that getting him to agree to another hospital visit would be nearly impossible. 

When she opened her eyes he was watching her face intently. 

“It looks like you have a small infection starting around your sutures. If this surgical site were anywhere else I would bring you oral antibiotics. I don’t want to take any chances with this. I think you need IV vancomycin.” She said in the calmest voice she could produce. 

To his credit, he didn't argue but disappointment and frustration were written on his face. She would have been more comforted if he had lodged a campaign to avoid the hospital. It took a few minutes to get a fresh bandage applied and they were out the door, Mulder in sweats and a ripped Brooklyn Dodgers T-shirt. Her stomach is sour with worry. 

_________________

It’s 2 am by the time she leaves him sleeping, doped to the gills with Benzos and fluids going into one arm and full-strength Vanco into the other. She is almost as punch drunk as he is having flown a badly routed connecting flight from Chicago less than 24 hours ago. She takes a moment to close her eyes, jolting awake when headlights fly past her in the Georgetown medical parking garage. 

She urges herself into action and pulls her car out onto the empty streets of Georgetown pointing towards the Richmond suburbs yet again with a piece of Mulder’s bandage securely in her pocket.  

_________________

She wakes up slowly on a thread-bare couch. She smells garlic and coffee and sees a sunbeam traveling from a high transom window to the wall above her. She stretches and sits up slowly. One of the gunmen has delivered her coffee and next to it sits a bakery bag bulging with bagels.

Thank god for these wonderful nerds

She is finishing adding cream to her coffee when she hears a quiet knock on the door a pause and then Byers sneaking a look around the door to see if she is awake. 

“Oh hi, Agent Scully. I took a guess and toasted an everything bagel for you.” He says politely as he sets a plate down on the coffee table. He is already in a suit and she wonders if he slept in it or if it's just later in the morning than she had intended to rest. “Frohike is ready to talk with you in the lab.” 

“Thank you.” She sighs trying to pull herself together a bit. 

She meets Frohike in an alcove towards the back of their offices. She can see the rest of the space from where she sits. Byers has started to fidget with some hardware, glancing up at her every few minutes looking like an overgrown owl. She is fairly certain she can’t be heard from where they are. 

Frohike wastes no time before launching into their reason for meeting. 

“Anna Walsh…  thought to be 35 years old. Her birthdate is listed as September 17th, 1965. Her fingerprints are on record in the state of Illinois as a requirement for employment working with kids. The earliest records I can find of her is that she passed a GED exam in 1984, after that I have a lot of work history. The state of Illinois Department of Revenue has two unclaimed paychecks on file totaling $367, one from an after-school coordinator job at the YMCA and the other from a bar in the Polish downtown area of Chicago. She has no arrest record that I can find; however, there are two incidents where she was detained briefly and released. I would guess that she was involved in some way with the guilty party in both cases, either riding in the car or sharing a living space. Both instances were drug-related.” 

He pauses to see Scully’s reaction to that. Scully listens intently, sipping her coffee. Her expression is tight, mulling over each bit of detail Frohike supplies.

“She moves to the suburbs at some point. The first address tied to her that I can find is a small apartment near a mall in Naperville in 1989. The lease was in her name only. After that, I didn’t see any rental records until the past two years in Mount Carol where she cosigned on a house rental with a woman named Maya Williams who appears to have also been in foster care and is close to the same age as Anna. 

When Frohike pauses she waits. 

“That’s what I have. She doesn’t appear to have a driver's license. The DNA was difficult. My lab contact says that the sample is degraded. He hopes it will be enough to show a relationship but he isn’t confident.”

Scully stands and looks around. Byers seems to have found a task interesting enough to occupy him. Langly is sitting on the couch playing a video game with headphones on. It’s all so overwhelming, each tidbit of information swirling in her mind to create an image of who this woman is. It’s also quite underwhelming. This will not be definitive. There is so much more information she will need before going to Mulder. 

She feels herself sag, the emotions of the past two days catching up with her. It must be evident on her face. Frohike looks apologetic and concerned. 

“I hate to admit this but I would know a lot more if I could widen our circle a bit here. Langly could get into the adoption records. I fear that if I try I will send up a flag on our activity. Don't ever tell him that I said that.”

Scully chuffs a small laugh and reluctantly agrees. “Her juvenile files must be sealed,” She says. 

“I believe it’s the case for all members of the foster care system in this state. Without any idea of how she came to be in Chicago and at what age we really can’t make any headway. We need to know how this happened to gauge whether she is safe.” He levels her with a serious look. “Let me bring Byers and Langly in to find her childhood records. I won't tell them your suspicions or the DNA tests.” 

She thanks Byers for the bagel and takes what is left of her coffee with her into the early morning air. The circle is widening. The wider it gets before she talks to Mulder the more uncomfortable she gets. 

_________________

When he wakes up she is there beside him, dozing in a chair with her head on the bed next to his hip. She has changed and showered. He can smell her fresh flowery shampoo. It seems that she has brought him coffee. 

Despite his recent discontent with being infirm and dependent, Mulder feels better than he has in the two weeks since he last woke up in a hospital. The difference between waking up to her then versus now is heartening. She isn’t radiating fear for his life. He isn’t in any pain. This was only a precaution she had assured him. The doctors had been in at the crack of dawn to inform him that his blood tests looked good and that the antibiotics were doing their job.

She looks peaceful in her uncomfortable position just like the million times she's fallen asleep on planes, in cars on stakeouts… just like this waiting on him to wake up in the hospital. Her hand is slightly curved and he thinks she might have been holding his hand at some point. He marvels at how she manages to sleep anywhere as he starts in on the coffee she brought. It's from a cafe near her apartment that she knows he likes. It’s not fully cooled so he figures she must have gotten here recently. He squints at her watch. It’s already 9:30 in the morning.  

A nurse bustles in and halts when she sees Scully asleep. She quietly goes about her tasks placing discharge paperwork on his table and removing his IVs. He holds his right arm over his body so she can take out both from one side of the bed. “I’ll come back for those papers after the neurologist comes and gives you your instructions. You should be able to leave within the hour.” She says in a hushed warm tone and leaves with a friendly smile. 

He doesn’t want to wake her. He tries to remember the last time she has been at peace in his presence and struggles to do so. It must have been Vegas. By the time he had arrived, she had already roundly shamed the Lone Gunmen for luring her under false pretenses. She had been nursing a protracted but manageable medication-induced hangover and let him treat her to lunch at a burger stand loved by the locals and a walk through an old graveyard of historic neon signs. He had been in such a good mood he even dropped a 10 into the collection tin with the sign saying “Help us get plugged in, Donations Encouraged.” 

Something about watching her eat unreserved always puts him in a better mood, especially in the past 2 years. She had scarfed down a huge burger and almost all of their shared fries. “I don’t get why they didn’t just ask for my help.” She stated around a mouth full of French fries. She washed them down with a swig of beer. “I’m not that difficult to approach. Why all the subterfuge?” She said leaning forward on her elbows and regarding him seriously. 

He had thought it better to keep his response to himself and chose that moment to take a long pull from his beer. “Hhm, the guys just prefer to operate on subterfuge. I think they get off on it.” He said following it up with the most charming smile he could come up with. 

He could tell she had been feeling better and her eyes sparkled with a bit of mischief. The tilt of her lips had him suspecting that she was considering pushing the issue further but instead, she surprised him by suggesting they try their hands at some poker before catching their flight that evening. 

Then the next two months happened. They had quarreled in a way they hadn’t since right before their unexpected trip to Antarctica. Only this time it was he who suggested that her contribution to their work was trivial. He regretted it and she knew that. They had barely gotten their feet under them when the artifact showed up. 

In the space of two weeks, she had been to Africa and the American Southwest in search of answers to save his life. When she arrived at his side desperate to communicate with him she was still fighting for his life. There was nothing trivial about what this woman adds to his life. 

Now months later she is dozing peacefully. He hopes that he can figure out a way to allow her to keep this peace for a little while. It’s the least he could do. Finally, he reaches out and tucks her hair behind her ear and she stirs, waking slowly and then suddenly all at once. When she fixes her eyes on him she gives him a warm sleepy smile. He swallows what feels like a giant lump in his chest as she reaches for his arm turning it over and running her fingers over the bandage left behind from his recently removed IV. She glances at his other arm and then into his eyes. 

“It looks like I’m ok to go home.” He says his voice slightly thick. He clears his throat. “Just waiting on a final visit from the doctor.” 

“Good.” She says, still holding his arm. Her fingers are rubbing a light circle around the underside of his forearm. “I’ll get the paperwork to the nurse,” she says reluctantly letting him go.”

#ignis fatuus #x files #the x files #fanfiction #fanfic #mulder #scully #mulder and scully #msr

[instruth]

I Recall Days Of Old

I recall the days of old

vividly as any tale retold

memories on a freight train

reliving good old times again

I was very young but not childish

I had been vastly naive, not foolish

grown, but not arrogant nor defiant

small in stature but inner self, a giant

a miracle child planted within a dream

a fore runner, fiery feet of the sunbeam

All that I have and have called my own

returning it to nurture seeds I have sown

there were times I stumbled over the hill

getting up, learned to do as heaven wills

beginning first to listen, sharp as a slayer

Be silent, be still, till I become my prayer

I’d tumbled down a misty spiral stairway

envisioned, an empty chapel far far away

I was transported there to bow each day

waking up same as I was every other day

©Johnny J P Lee

18 July 2023

A Gogyoshiren Poem (20)

Photos Credit J. P. Lee

#poetryportal #writerscreeds #smittenbypoetry #poeticstories #inkstainsandheartbeats #bitsofstarglow #spilledwords #writingthestorm #poetscommunity