#i ;; the magician — my writing

[devourable]

⚠︎ the stalker

sfw, mdni, beta read by @fluffula | tags ;; masc yandere x gn reader — stalking (duh), themes of self deprecation/lack of self worth, erotomania

hii im back from my unannounced hiatus bc i have more time on my hands :] ik vega didnt win the poll but fsr theyre the only one i could get myself to write sooo 🫶 i know im super rusty since I haven't written in ages so sorry if this is a lackluster return fic. it just be like that

vega just wasn’t the type of person that people liked. it was a fact, and he was well aware of it.

they were lanky and awkward, unkempt, and often didn’t know what to say or do in any given social situation. no one went out of their way to interact with them and vice versa. the few times he ended up around others anyway, he always found himself sidelined by the few people he could refer to as friends — they’d never be the focus, if they weren’t forgotten about entirely.

they weren’t anyone’s first choice. hell, they weren’t a second or third choice, either. it was a sad existence that he had accepted long ago — why bother trying to fit in if he wasn’t wanted? he was so boring, he wouldn’t wanna hang out with himself either, anyway. so every day and every night, they were alone.

then, he met you.

it started so simply. you started working at the same office as them, and they knew off the bat that it was your first time in a place like this. they expected nothing of you — maybe a lukewarm greeting as you passed each other during the workday, but not much more than that. so it surprised them when after your introduction, you rounded their desk and gently asked if they could show you around. maybe it was something about your tone, maybe it was that friendly look in your eye, maybe it was just you as a whole. but something about you just got them. they were out of their chair before they realized it.

they weren't the talkative type, but it didn't matter — you kept asking questions during the entire tour. what was that room for? how long had they been working there? did they like working there? you wanted their attention and they for the life of them couldn’t get why. even less so, they didn’t understand why they were so ready to give it to you. they couldn't help the way they stuttered out their answers to your questions, nor the way their face flushed after you laughed at the way they responded. but you did have to work, so you withdrew from them eventually to do just that.

well after you departed to your cubicle, you remained on their mind. your voice, the way you laughed, how you looked, it all swirled around in their mind as they sat in their desk. it remained that way the entire day, the following night, and the day after — they couldn't get you off their mind!

you chose him. you chose him, out of everyone else in the office. you were the only person that did that, and it made them feel so seen. so real, so… loved? was this what love was? the pounding in their chest and their flushed face would make him believe so. they couldn’t wait to see you again. just the thought of you returning the next day and every day after that bloomed butterflies in their tummy.

vega’s longing for you only grew more and more intense after every passing day. every day you came to work, they’d be the first to greet you and the last to bid you goodbye. they even changed their days off to match yours — going to work hardly seemed worth it if you weren’t there to make the day more bearable. every day they sat at their desk, daydreaming about spending time with you, going home with you, doing all the things they never imagined that they’d ever do before. and even though they were too awkward to seek you out during the work day, it didn’t stop them from staring at you every chance they got.

but after that first day, you paid less and less attention to them. you had work to do, after all, and no matter how hard they yearned for you, it grew harder to get you to notice them and harder for them to watch you. it was excruciating. for the first time in his life, vega wanted to be wanted — by you, specifically. he wanted your attention, your voice, your eyes on them again. but if they couldn’t have that, they needed to see you more to make up for it.

the stalking started small at first. occasionally following you when you got up from your desk to give a file to your supervisor or use the restroom, pretending to be distracted should you ever notice them (which you hardly did — they didn’t know if that bothered them or not). sometimes he ended his day at the same time yours ended so he could walk out with you, watching you leave from their car before they left themself. and eventually they started to follow you home directly. it was always from a distance. they wouldn’t want to frighten you, after all! it was okay as long as you weren’t bothered by it, he told himself.

he memorized your routine so he could base his own around it. you went to the store? he was going too. spending the day at the library? he was stalking after you from a different aisle. sometimes they’d leave little gifts on your doorstep just to see your bewildered reaction. watching you became his favorite pastime — they almost liked it more than talking to you directly. you somehow never noticed them lurking, staring at you from some shady hiding spot, panting and trembling just from the sheer excitement that your existence caused them. were you aware of just how cute you were when you thought no one was watching you? knowing all your bad habits, your mannerisms and all the things you did in private was exhilarating. it was like a secret for just the two of you. and whenever you came into work and talked to him like you usually did, it made him so fucking excited. did you know? maybe you did and you were fine with it. that had to be why you were so nice to them. they loved the idea of you liking their bad behavior.

vega had no plans of confessing to you anytime soon. he had so much fun stalking you, he saw no need to ruin it with his feelings. besides, you liked them back anyway — you had to have, why else would you let him get away with it for so long? he knew you wanted him, and he wanted you in return. all he had to do was wait for you.

#💌 vega l. ;; the stalker #i ;; the magician — my writing #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere x oc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere nsft #male yandere x reader #yandere male #male yandere oc #nonbinary yandere #nb yandere #yandere boy #xvii ;; the star — my ocs

[thestuffedalligator]

There had always been a goblin and an orc at the sides of the Overlord.

Once upon a time, it probably had a symbolic meaning. Over the centuries it had dwindled to a way for orcs to offload embarrassing family members, while goblins sent prisoners who probably wouldn't bite too much.

At the sides of the Overlord, they were decorative and invisible.

The only one who saw them was the magician.

At first, she had thought of them as a convenient way to have a pair of eyes and ears in the Overlord's presence at all times. Then one day, after the Overlord had ordered his whole chamber out while he ruminated, there had been a very convenient death.

Then she planned on blackmailing them.

It was a delicious thought. In the dead of night she slunk through the castle halls with the deliberate slowness of a spider enjoying every tantalizing wriggle of a panicking fly.

She got to the iron doors of the Overlord's chamber and was about to spring the trap when she heard the orc say, "How is this bloody country still running?!"

The goblin said, "Look, it's not that important, we have to go."

"Look at this." There was a rustle of paper. "They've been paying the giants thousands of gold pieces a year for them to make war machines that they haven't been making!"

"So what?"

"So, if instead of paying them, we took that money-" There was furious scribbling. "And put it in an interest-earning savings account... for twelve months..."

Paper was slid across a table.

There was a long pause.

"Huh," said the goblin.

"That's," said the orc. "Roads. Bridges. Actual infrastructure in the empire. We could really do something here!"

"We were going to!" said the goblin. "We were going to get out of here!"

"Look. I'm good at numbers. You're good at words. We can run tomorrow, but we have a once in a lifetime chance here."

There was a longer pause.

"Okay," said the goblin. "Okay. But as soon as someone even thinks they've found us out-"

"Oh, the second that happens, we're gone."

"Good. All right. How many roads?"

The magician blinked.

Huh, she thought.

It's not a good look to slink where you've just slunk. She slunk nevertheless in a thoughtful mood.

---

The next day, she brought a long scroll to the attention of the Overlord.

Other members of the chamber had learned to recognize it by sight. They groaned and braced for the inevitable.

She pointedly ignored them. "A thousand apologies, O Master Of Midnight And Bane Of The Dawn," she said. "But I felt I must once again bring this proposal to your attention."

She put the scroll into the Overlord's huge, gauntleted hands. "It is, of course, my proposal for infrastructure reforms within the Empire," she said. "A nation as mighty as thine must have roads, my lord."

The Overlord looked at her. The Overlord read it. The magician winced as the goblin obviously craned to read it as well, lips moving silently.

The Overlord looked at the goblin. The goblin looked at the Overlord.

The Overlord waved a hand. The goblin bowed. "His Magnificent Presence, The Overlord, Accepts Your Proposal," she recited. "By The Will Of The Overlord, May This Work Be Done, And May You Continue To Make Such Useful Contributions To Your Empire."

Yeah, don't lay it on too thick, the magician thought.

---

The next week, around a corner where she thought nobody could see her, the orc pulled off the Overlord's helmet, shaking out long coils of dark hair that curled and tangled against the breastplate of the armor.

The magician stared.

Huh, she thought, more emphatically this time.

---

The next month, the duke came to her and said it was obvious that the Overlord had been replaced by an imposter.

She let him rave for a few minutes about the affront to the dignity of the Empire, sighed, stood, thanked him for bringing it to her attention, and waved a hand. There was a rush of air, a wooden clatter, and then a sad little mechanical squeaking noise as her new office chair swiveled where the duke had stood.

#short story #fantasy writing #narrativia #a short snacky pseudo sequel because i thought about the magician for too long #it’s not as ha ha funny but i wanted to get my thoughts out

[to-be-frank-i-dont-care]

Ok but during Playing With the Big Boys at the very end when the music is crescendoing, and you see the magician's snakes crawling after Moses' snake to kill it and there's no way it will survive. and the magicians are taunting Moses and laughing in his face and trying to overwhelm him with their evil magic and making fun of him and his Lord. and they're moving around him and throwing magic everywhere and telling him that they are the ones in power, not he, that his simple snake is nothing because they can do anything he can do, and they will always triumph over him with their gods. and then the scene shifts and the shadow of Moses' snake is thrown on the wall in the firelight, and it snatches and devours both of the magicians' snakes while the music swells to a finale. the magicians were only just boasting that they are more powerful than Moses and his God, and now their snakes are dead. devoured. their words no longer mean anything. they follow endless gods, and yet those gods could do nothing in the face of Moses' God, and and and

good food right there

#the prince of egypt #prince of egypt #also the symbolism of how #the Lord's snake swallowed the magicians' snakes #and it's as if the Lord swallowed the false gods also #and I just #I love this movie man #listening to the playlist while I do school and I had to write about this moment #It always gives me so many chills #if I could organize my thoughts abt this movie in full I would #but #I don't think I could #lizzy rambles #also when I say Moses’ God #He is also mine #it just would’ve been odd to throw that in lol

[marlynnofmany]

Human Magic

You would think that a life gallivanting through space would be an endless string of exciting locations, and mostly you would be right. But sometimes my job on the courier ship is just a job, and occasionally that job sucks.

Like most jobs, it sucks when the people do. Today would have been unpleasant enough because of the location: a jungle area thick with plants, fog, and heat. I dislike sweating. I got to do a lot of it today. I also got my hair caught on umpteen different twigs and branches, completely messing up the braid. But all of that could have been fine if the clients were nice.

Nope! Snooty little buttheads of the same species as the captain, completely uninterested in acknowledging the rest of us, and ready to argue about the price of the delivery.

I stood there beside all the crates we’d just unloaded, wanting to take a nap on the hoversled but knowing that it would probably just make Captain Sunlight look bad. So I just sweated and waited, next to the Frillian twins and Mur, all of whom seemed to enjoy the sauna temperatures. The lizardy Heatseekers did too. Lucky me, the only one not either coldblooded or from a semi-aquatic background. They could have gotten someone else to help with this delivery, but the rest of the crew was busy loading up our next shipment. And I hadn’t realized how distasteful this would be.

“The items clearly smell rank,” argued the lead client. “Especially that crate; I can barely stand to be near it.”

“Once again,” said Captain Sunlight with more patience than these people deserved, “They smelled like that when we accepted them, as I have noted right here, and we traveled with exceptional speed.”

“I just can’t justify paying the full price for a spoiled product.”

“You are paying for the delivery, not the product.”

The argument went in circles while I sighed and undid my braid. Might as well fix that while I waited; there wasn’t anything else to do. When one of the underlings gave me a glare, I rolled my eyes and stepped behind the Frillians. Blip squared her shoulders and blocked me from sight.

How dare I catch their attention with my unsightly mammal fur? I thought, finger-combing the leaves out. No appreciation for — hm. I’d found a loose hair and also an idea.

I tucked the strand into my mouth while I redid the braid, then tied one end of that stray hair to the pen from my pocket, and the other end to my finger.

This was a trick that had gone over well in elementary school. With the fog and the way hair was exotic here, I was curious to see how it did.

“Captain,” I said politely, stepping forward. “Perhaps they would like to pay the full price if we throw in the secret of how I can move small things with my mind?”

Captain Sunlight quirked a browridge but played along. “Valuable information,” she said. “What do you say?”

The clients whispered to each other and argued for a moment, then demanded a demonstration. I happily obliged.

With the fog blocking out any traitorous rays of light that could give the game away, I held the pen out on my left palm, making dramatic flourishes above it with my right. I affected a look of deep concentration. Wiggling the fingers of both hands, I lifted my right, and lo! The pen rose into the air!

They bought it. Such goggle-eyed expressions; I had to work not to snort in laughter. Instead I stood up straight and caught the pen with my left hand, bowing while the clients all talked at once.

Captain Sunlight may or may not have known how I’d done that, but she was no fool. She took their payment as quickly as they offered it, then managed to usher everyone else back toward the ship without making it look like they were preparing to run.

“Go ahead,” she said to me. “Share your secret.”

“It’s quite simple,” I told them, snapping the hair from my finger. “All you need is a single strand of human hair.” I tossed them the pen and stepped behind a bush while they caught it in surprise.

Now, they could have chosen to laugh and offer to buy some of my hair. They could have pulled the same trick on their friends, and maybe won some bar bets or whatever. They didn’t. I’d made the right call by ducking out of sight.

They were yelling some extremely rude things when Captain Sunlight sped past and leapt onto the hoversled. “Back to the ship!” she said. Blop pushed the sled through the undergrowth at a run, with Blip jumping forward to clear a path and Mur scrambling up beside the captain. I wasn’t small enough to get away with that, so I followed behind Blop and kept an eye out for pursuit.

Luckily for us, they decided to stay there and be grumpy instead chasing after us. They’d gotten what they paid for, after all. Even if I’d used slightly more than my mind to move the pen.

“That was a great trick!” Mur shouted from the sled. “I didn’t realize your head-tentacle was useful.”

“So useful,” I called back, ducking a branch. “Sometimes that even works on other humans, though they usually figure it out pretty fast.”

“I appreciate the quick thinking,” said Captain Sunlight. “I’ll keep it in mind for future negotiations.”

“As long as they aren’t the type to end in violence,” I said. “I was pretty sure these guys wouldn’t fight us about it, but I couldn’t be sure.”

“Oh, these were former crewmates of someone I know!” the captain said. “They’ve always been eggholes.”

“Great!” I said. “I hope they enjoy the pen. It’s almost out of ink.”

~~~

The ongoing backstory of the main character from this book. More to come!

#I was very fond of this trick in 5th grade #my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #I don't think I've used this tag before: #humans are space magicians #this is a fun little throwaway idea #that I could see working out pretty well actually #haso #hfy #eiad

[kazbiter]

"adam parrish was a miracle of moving parts, a study in survival" in case u forgot!!!! "what do you want adam to feel awake when my eyes are open" let's consider!!! "who has he ever had to love him, ever?" even!!! "I know you are not the same as him but in my head everything is always so tangled I am such a damaged thing" as well!!! "he was not robert parrish but he forgave past adam for being afraid of the possibility" in fact!! "rags to riches isn't a story anyone wants to hear until after it's done" if you'll remember!!! "it was only because he believed he had saved himself that he could imagine saving someone else" if u even care!!!

#i actually did this first with ronan quotes and then when I was consulting my trc quote masterdoc (color coded excel sheet) i was like hmmmm #wait actually I miss adam so bad I need to do adam #it's a wonder that maggie was never hospitalized for burns the way her pen was ON FIRE writing these books #i might still post the ronan one later anyways why not!!!! #also the wrong devil and magician card scene live inside the walls of my mind I just didn't have a good line to use for them in this format #adam parrish #the raven cycle

[strangersatellites]

ask and you shall receive !! part two of tarot-verse !! read part one here !!

⛓️🪄🔮

“Robs, do you really think this is going to work?”

“Well normally I would say yes. It's pretty straight-forward and I don’t think you’re leaving a lot of room for misinterpretation. But at the same time, Eddie has been demonstrating some particularly impressive levels of obliviousness when it comes to the way you go all goo-goo eyes at him.”

Steve opens his mouth to dispute her claim, he does not go all goo-goo eyes at him, but gets cut off.

“That and the fact that he’s all in his head over a scenario he literally made up. So I don't know, it might be hopeless.”

Steve just blinks for a second.

“Wow. Thank you, Robin, for that very motivating pep talk.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I am feeling much more confident now, that's really great.”

She huffs on the other end of the line. “Well, I just mean that-”

He holds up a hand even though she can’t see him. “No, no. I got it.” He perks up at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. “Hey, he’s here Robbie. I gotta go.”

Robin's screech has him pulling the phone away from his ear. “Good luck, dingus!”

“Thanks Robs. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He hangs up and wipes his, now clammy, hands on the front of his jeans and psychs himself up.

“Come on Steve. Be cool.”

A musical knock that Steve would know anywhere sounds through the foyer and he has to tamp down the smile threatening to split his face. This is serious.

He swings open the door just as Eddie’s hand is poised to knock again and cuts him off before he can even start to speak.

“Okay. I know I asked you to come over so we could smoke and watch that movie you like but can I show you something first?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow but his smile doesn’t drop.

“Course, Stevie. Why so serious? What did you do, rob a bank?” He asks, shouldering his way past and making his way to the living room and hopping over the back of the couch.

Steve knows the moment Eddie sees them. His shoulders stiffen up and his breath catches. Steve hurries to placate.

“Hey, I know. I’m sorry just-” If he runs his hand through his hair again it's going to go flat but he can't break the habit. “Just let me show you?”

Eddie settles back into the couch and gives Steve a quick nod.

Steve takes a breath and grabs his stack of cards from the coffee table and settles on the other end of the couch.

Okay, Steve. Just like you rehearsed.

Another deep breath.

“Two summers ago Robin told me she wanted to learn how to read tarot. She bought a deck and tried to learn on her own, but she had a hard time memorizing what all of them meant.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “No shit. Shit’s hard.”

Steve laughs too. “Yeah, I know that now. But, she had a hard time with it so I told her I would learn and help her practice. And I did. And she got really good at it and she brought them everywhere and she did readings for people constantly. But then she eventually got bored and stopped.”

Eddie shifts and uncrosses his arms. Finally looks less like he’s ready to bolt.

“What, do you just have like a rolodex of stuff you’ve learned for Robin that she doesn’t care about anymore?”

“I think of it more like an old toybox.” This gets a laugh out of Eddie. “But this one– this one stuck with me. I forgot about it for a while but a while back, a few days pre-vecna oddly enough, I pulled a reading for myself and I wanted to show you.”

Eddie’s eyes dart between his own for a beat. He tilts his head a bit.

“I would love to see it, Stevie. But I’m not understanding what was so urgent about this. I thought it was gonna be about the whole,” he waves his hand around while he talks, “you watching me make myself look stupid the other day.”

Steve hates the dejected tone his voice has taken on behind his false bravado.

“It is! I mean, I’ve never thought you looked stupid. But, I mean I kind of goaded you into it, just– just let me talk you through this and I promise it’ll all make sense.”

Eddie sits back again. “Okay sweetheart. Wow me.”

Steve takes a deep breath because this part is a bit like baring his soul to Eddie.

“So when I pulled this reading. I was feeling really confused about what was in store for me. I decided to dust off my cards and see what happened.”

He pulls four cards right off the top of the deck and lays them out face down. Flips the first one.

Judgement.

“I got judgement first. Now, I know you know what it means, but I’m going to tell you my interpretation.”

When Steve looks back up at him, Eddie’s got his chin propped in his hand and the stars back in his eyes.

“Judgement told me to stop looking for things in the same places I’d always looked. That I should look somewhere different. Now granted I didn’t know what that meant yet, but it was just the start.”

Flips the second card.

The Moon.

“You would think that maybe I would’ve taken the hint with this one. It’s the one that tells you, ‘Hey! Stop lying to yourself! Listen to your intuition!’ But still I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean either.”

He skips ahead and flips the last card and Eddie looks confused and goes to flip the third card himself.

“Call me crazy, Stevie, but I think you skipped one.”

Steve bats his hand away.

“Shut up. I know that, but there’s an order to this story.”

Eddie puts his hands up in a gesture of innocence and Steve taps the fourth card.

The Lovers.

“This one made me finally start to piece this one together. Maybe I needed to start looking for a different type of girl, ya know? Clearly I was gonna fall in love and I needed to start looking in new places for whoever it was.”

He brings his eyes up to meet Eddie’s.

“Maybe a farmer’s market.”

Eddie throws his head back in a laugh.

“But this last card had me so confused because it didn’t fit into this lineup at all. In my experience, when a card doesn’t really fit, it might need to be read more literally. And I found out later that this one was meant to be taken very literally. Like, very.”

He flips the final card.

The Devil.

“Because a few days later, I met you.”

Eddie squints at him, but he's smiling.

“That feels like an insult, babe.”

Steve can literally feel his cheeks flush at Eddie’s effortless flirting.

“Okay, well I can only think of one person who was accused of devil-worship in this town, so.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie nods.

“And I had this stupid big crush on you before I even remembered the reading. When I did it got so much worse. And then, last weekend, I saw your cards and I thought it would be fun to see what kind of reading you would pull for me. Thought maybe that would be my chance to tell you how I felt. I was going to wait for you to tell me about whatever you pulled and then tell you I knew that already.”

Eddie shifts to sling an arm around Steve’s shoulder and lets him finish.

“But then I saw those cards and I knew you were making stuff up and I thought it was because you didn't want it to be you.”

Eddie’s face falls for a second before Steve bumps their noses together.

“But then you were being so weird at the farmer’s market so I talked to Robs about it and she told me we're both stupid.”

Steve feels more than he hears Eddie’s laugh.

“I would have to agree with Birdie on that one. Steve, has anybody ever told you you have an insane poker face?”

Steve hides his face and laughs.

“No, that's a new one.”

Eddie puts on his most dramatic voice again.

“Well allow me to be the first. Because that was a phenomenal performance. I had no idea that you knew I was talking out of my ass.”

“Well you do that a lot anyway, so.”

Eddie squawks and shoves Steve to fall backwards until he’s in his space, looking down with a blinding smile.

“So, cards tell you anything about a first date?”

Steve’s hands settle around Eddie’s waist and his eyes dart around his face.

“We could ask. But I can think of a better way to spend our time.”

Eddie bends down and nips at the side of Steve’s jaw, hums.

“Yeah? Hm. I think it might be worth an ask.”

Steve huffs and brings his his hands to either side of his face to tug him down.

“Shut up.”

Eddie’s laughing the first time their lips meet.

He bites and tugs at Steve’s bottom lip to get his attention.

“I can’t believe you called me the devil.”

Steve’s eyes are hazy and his smile lazy.

“Yeah but you’re my devil.”

Eddie laughs and leans down to peck at the corner of his mouth.

“And you’re my magician.”

⛓️🪄🔮

tag list: @henderdads, @mightbeasleep, @gothbat99, @hotluncheddie, @steddie-there, @thefreakandthehair, @steddieasitgoes, @gayngerthings, @grapefruitgalaxy, @orangeandthefairroadkill, @hardboiledleggs, @corrodedcoughin, @punkharringtxn, @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy, @ottokajiyehett, @toobluebrunette, @e0509, @booksandsience, @lohthus, @chaoticlovingdreamer, @4nemo1egend, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @adelicioustragedy, @wearelosersyoudumbfuck, @lightwoodbanethings, @trikigirl271, @initforthereadz, @dontwasteyourchances (if you got skipped or added, my apologies🫶🏼)

#eddie knows tarot #steve knows tarot #tarot steddie #i want to live in the tarot steddie-verse #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #the devil & the magician #the devil is my favorite card in tarot #so I had to find a way to include her #gin writes #fin gin #shot of gin

[landwriter]

The Many Lives of Hob Gadling | Dream/Hob | 20K | Mature Canon Divergence, Non-Linear Narrative, Reincarnation, Letters, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Devotion, Falling in Love

A man, supine and utterly still, in what might have seemed like a deep sleep, draws in a long slow breath and opens his eyes. He smiles up at the sky, for he knows not much at all, but he knows this: Hob Gadling is a man of good fortune.

A story about refusing to leave. A story about a quest that spans lifetimes. A story about losing someone, and bringing them back with love.

[Read on AO3]

For @endlessbigbang. Thank you mods for organizing it! Thank you @teejaystumbles for being such an incredible partner!

#the sandman #dreamling #my writing #fic post #the many lives of hob gadling #(in the tone of a magician revealing an incredible trick) #voila! a story i have NOT posted one million excerpts about beforehand #surprise!! #pls mind the choose not to warn

[wolfnprey]

I need more people in my life to be able to complain to about my Magicians love and the steadily growing Queliot wips I have open that refuse to leave me alone.

#wolf howl #the magicians #queliot #eliot waugh #quentin coldwater #what have i become #writing woes #consider this a beacon for people to assault my messages or inbox or whatever because this is a lonely island right now #tell my thoughts and wips to shut up #and stop growing

[campbyler]

forever ago @wayward-sherlock asked suni for a sticker tour of her laptop — since we are together we wanted to show off both our laptops!! we think it is very easy to tell which laptop belongs to who 🤸

#suni wants it known that she got me the spotify sticker (it’s maroon) and the zelda sticker #and i gave her the pochacco one 🤎 #also featuring the space dinosaur stickers we stole from abby and my castle byers sticker is stolen from haven’s laptop #as is suni’s cat and books sticker #oh also also suni got me the cat magician and haven got me the raven . if anyone cares . #and i earned the bingo stickers by writing. i love her #suni is leaving so soon and i’m so SADDDDD #WAYLI WE LOVE YOOOOU HAVE FUN ON YOUR DATE

[queenlucythevaliant]

make your choice

Digory didn’t think much on making choices. The whole world would be over when his mother died anyhow.

Of course, this didn’t keep him from being curious or adventurous. It was exciting to meet new people, exciting to go exploring and to speculate about whatever mischief his Uncle Andrew was up to. Being a lively young boy was perhaps the best distraction from being a boy about to lose his mother.

Going after Polly was so obviously right that it might as well not have been a choice at all. What else could he do? It was easy to be righteous in the face of an evil old magician who said things like "Ours is a high and lonely destiny."

Yet once they were there in that rich, in-between place, with all the worlds there were splayed out before them— ((Make your choice, adventurous stranger)) Well. What sort of lively young boy would he be if he turned back now?

Digory could feel the bell’s magic ((strike the bell and bide the danger)) beginning to work on him. There was no use in resisting. He felt tendrils of magic sinking deep beneath his skin, laying claim to any free will he’d ever had. He said as much to Polly, but she wasn’t listening.

Polly said ((or wonder till it drives you mad)) that he looked exactly like his uncle when he said that.

Jadis’s whole world had ended. Everyone had died, and she’d just gone to sleep. She might have stayed sleeping forever if he hadn’t woken her. Sitting outside his mother’s sickroom, Digory wondered ((what would have followed if you had)) if that was really so shocking. Hadn’t he been preparing for just such an end? Were Charn and Mabel Kirke so different?

Narnia was not an end. It was a beginning.

And face to face with the Lion, Digory was forced to admit that the bell had not been magic. Nothing had caused him to strike it. Make your choice, the writing had said. Digory had chosen. 

I’ve spoiled everything. There’s no chance of getting anything for mother now.

The enormous Lion asked him, "Son of Adam, are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done?" and Digory sputtered his maybes.

"I asked, are you ready?" the Lion said again.

At that very moment, an ultimatum flashed through Digory’s mind. If I salvage your beginning, will you prevent my end? If make amends, will you save my mother? He thought of refusing, of holding his choice hostage until his future was secure. Could the Lion be bargained with? Could Digory twist his arm, as he'd twisted Polly's?

But what Digory said was, "Yes."

Jadis conjured such lovely visions of the future. His mother's face would lose its gray sheen and she would say, Why, I'm beginning to feel stronger. There would be no more morphia, no more of the terrible drawn look about her when she slept. She would rise from her sickbed, vibrant and whole ((Come in by the gold gates or not at all)) rise and walk to the door and fling it open and then Digory would go running into her arms. 

He gasped as though he'd been mortally wounded. Perhaps he had been in a way. After all, had the gate not said ((take my fruit for others or forbear))? 

Jadis ((for those who steal and those who climb my wall)) called Digory the Lion's slave. Years later, he would think back over all that those words implied. The Witch seemed to think that Digory had no will, if he was willing to subordinate himself to Aslan.

But was it not Aslan who made Digory realize his own culpability ((shall find their heart's desire and find despair)), and in the same breath gave him a way to repair it? Had not Aslan given his will back to him?

And at the foot of the tree, Aslan gave Digory his future back as well. 

He was old, but now he is young again, watching as the stars fall headlong across the black of the world-that-was. The world is ending at last, but Digory does not fear such things any longer.

#'let's get some half-finished stuff done and posted before the Inklings Challenge' challenge #i'm not 100% satisfied with this but I quite like all the concepts. we'll see #i actually have a bunch of these type of character study things from back in the day that i'd like to keep revisiting #anyway. i have always always always been fascinated by the writing on the bell #curiosity would totally be MY fatal flaw in a fairytale/myth so i can absolutely see where Digory is coming from #like of course he has to strike the bell. of course #but the way it gets frames in relation to Choice and Will and Responsibility is just really cool #a neat counterpoint to all the stories of those overcome by curiosity whom the narrative justifies #it was your fault. you need to own that #curiosity for its own sake is not inherantly a good thing #and then of course i can't write about Digory without pulling in the dymanic with his mom's impending death #that is by far the most compelling aspect of MN it is the linchpin of the whole thing #so yeah #founded in song #the magician's nephew no longer #narnia #leah stories #pontifications and creations

[chiropteracupola]

spooky scary sleepover

[moth and compass is a collaboration with @natdrinkstea]

#em draws stuff #oc time again hehe #moth and compass #the lieutenant: chadwick goodfellow #the light keeper: luna maitland #the fool: moth worley #the magician: peregrine #or as the esteemed nat calls them: Our Freaklets #given that m&c is made out of the sheer Idea of summertime haunted shenaniganery a drawing of this nature was inevitable #you have seen a CREATURE so now it is time to GET INTO YOUR JAMMIES and FEEL A CHILL RUN DOWN YOUR SPINE #and given that I am writing this post rather late at night I do believe I shall do the same! #get cozy and play my vincent price audiobooks :)

[puppyeared]

what if i snapped and made an oc carrd

#i mean.... i could #this isnt the first time ive thought of doing it but i drop ocs so easily its not even funny. so idk if itd be worth it #id consider toyhouse or smth but i dont have money lol. right now everythings on artfight but thats more for drawing purposes #what ocs would i even talk abt... i have some standalones like auggie and ocs i think look cool but dont plan on using #but some others have their own stories.. not like a huge thought out plot but something i pick up and twirl around in my head #like luckys whole deal is being a hiking guide who accidentally gets tied up with some werewolves pretending to be a hiking group to eat pp #and then i have the magician rivals. although i kinda wanna tie theirs with the nightguard and thief story ive been cooking. maybe in the #same universe? it would be pretty funny if they lived in the same apartment complex since a couple stories i have in mind revolve around th #its like some sort of omnibus or anthology to me. kicks my feet #and then fan characters like xin ya and sleight who i want to have their own expanded lore and stuff. i think that would be cool #im making crow a powerpoint of xins updated lore but the assignmence are making it hard. hopefully it turns out good though #i have a hard time writing personality and xins is always the hardest bc theyre probably the least like me. i tend to stick to #characters similar to myself to get in their head. but bc their backstory affects their personality so strongly i have to do some thinking #anyway. hopefully i remember this later #yapping #oc #oc talk #ive also been playing neko atsume recently for nostalgia and why did we as a society ever stop playing it. its so chill #you just take pictures of silly little cats and leave them silly little toys and treats. and the music is cute

[shivunin]

Stack the Deck

(Maria Hawke/Fenris | 1,310 words | Fluff | no warnings)

Fenris could have caught Hawke before she reached the stairs if he’d really been trying, but that probably wasn’t the point. 

Hawke had left the Hanged Man when he’d excused himself for a few moments, and he’d been chasing after her since he’d returned to the table to find her gone. He knew quite well what she was doing, because she’d spent the whole evening “accidentally” running her fingers over the inside of his wrist, whispering so close to his ear that her lips often skimmed the sensitive skin, and tilting her head back in the way that occasionally exposed the small red marks at the joint of her neck. 

She’d also been cheating at cards to no avail, but that was nothing new. Fenris hardly noticed it anymore, since Hawke slipped the extra cards into his belt more often than not these days. As he jogged up the stairs to Hightown, he retrieved three from his waistband alone. He would almost certainly find more tucked away on his person when he finally reached her manor and disrobed. 

Perhaps this sort of thing was odd to do with one’s lover, but Fenris didn’t especially care. He could hear her laughing from here, after all, and the sound of it lightened his steps. As he rounded the corner at last, he spotted Hawke at her manor door, stepping into the firelit foyer.

“Hawke,” he called, speeding up. 

She held the door open for him, beaming across the courtyard as if she hadn’t seen him in days. 

“Oh, dear,” she said, with not an ounce of concern in her voice. “You’ve caught me.”

“You didn’t hide yourself very well, if that’s what you were trying to do,” Fenris told her as he stepped through the door. She swung it shut behind her with a soft click and he caught her waist in his hands, pressing her back against the wood. 

“Heavens,” Hawke said, still smiling, “how forward, messere.”

“I seem to recall having you twice before breakfast,” he murmured, kissing her cheek as he spoke. “How could this possibly be forward, Hawke?”

She seemed disinclined to explain herself, and laughed breathlessly when his lips trailed over the curve of her ear. Fenris huffed and directed his next words there in a murmur.

“Was there a reason for this little game, or did you tease me all night so I would chase you home?”

“Hm?” she said, angling her head away. 

Fenris obliged the silent request and nipped at the soft skin of her neck. It felt just as good as it had this morning. 

“I’m winning a bet,” she said after a moment. 

Fenris leaned back to look at her, brows raised.

“Oh! No, not that,” she said, and produced a playing card from her sleeve with the casual flick of her fingers. 

If he hadn’t known better, Fenris might have thought it was magic, but no—these were only the skills she’d learned as a pickpocket when her family had first come to Lowtown. She’d solemnly sworn never to pretend to pull a coin from his ear again, but that hadn’t kept her from producing various other objects from elsewhere on his person or her own. 

“The Angel of Death?” he asked, reading the card, “Were you losing all night on purpose?”

“Yes and no,” she laughed, producing another card, then another, and another, from her sleeves, then her decolletage, then her belt, and so on. When she finally stopped, Fenris was staring at more than half a deck stacked neatly in her left hand. 

“And the bet?” he said after a moment. She smiled again, eyes lit from within, and produced a card from behind his back. 

“That I wouldn’t make it out of the Hanged Man before Varric realized I’d taken most of his Wicked Grace deck,” she said, and plucked yet another card from the front of his belt. “Angel of Temerity. I was proud of that one.”

“Of course you were,” Fenris said, resting a hand against the door beside her head. “What have you won?”

“Two sov off of Isabela,” she said, tipping her head up so she could meet his eyes. “Would’ve been three, but I couldn’t quite get the last of the Angels. I think she had it in her bosom all along, the blighted pirate.”

Ah. 

Slowly, Fenris reached into his pocket and pulled two cards from it. One was the Knight of Dawn, but the other…

Hawke gasped. 

“No!” she said, reaching up to touch the second card. “Fortitude! But how?”

“I take my cards with me when I leave the table,” Fenris told her, extending the cards. “Or someone would steal them.”

Hawke gasped and would have pressed a hand to her chest, but he’d caught her fingers when she’d reached for his cards. 

“I would never,” she said, the dimples on either side of her mouth deepening despite the solemnity of her words. 

“Never,” Fenris said flatly, not letting go of the pair of cards, “and yet you are doing so now.”

“You offered!” Hawke protested. “Fine, then. What do you want for them?” 

Fenris considered her for a moment. The long walk to Hightown had brought a flush to her cheeks. Her hair, formerly wound into her customary braid, had already begun to come loose. Ringlets sprung from its twined length and brushed against her neck. Beneath dark brows, her eyes laughed at him. 

“What are you offering?” he countered, leaning closer. 

“Nothing you couldn’t have for the asking,” she laughed. “A kiss for the two of them.”

“No.”

“You don’t even want them!” Hawke protested. 

The skin at the corners of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled; Fenris marked it whenever it happened. 

Especially when he was the one who’d made her smile. 

“But you do,” he said, keeping his grip on the cards she was trying to tug away. “Two apiece and I will let go.”

“One apiece,” she countered, “and that’s my final offer. Surely you wouldn’t haggle with your dearest beloved over so—”

Fenris cut off the rest of her sentence with a kiss, and caught the edge of her smile on his lower lip for his haste. He did not mind it, of course. Hawke was smiling half the time when they kissed regardless, and feeling the shift in her when she turned her full attention to him was a pleasure in and of itself. 

“One,” she murmured, tilting her head away. She returned to him before he could think of something to say in return. This time, she let go of the cards and traced the line of his jaw as she kissed him, fingertips running along bone until they reached his chin. 

“Two,” he began when she pulled away, but she was kissing him again before the rest of the syllable tripped from his tongue. 

This kiss lasted the longest of all, until Fenris was leaning harder against the hand he’d braced against the wall, until he’d half-forgotten what they were still doing in her foyer at all. When she tipped her head away at last, he blinked at her for a moment, surprised at the sudden absence of her. 

“That has to count for at least four,” she said, and Fenris felt something brush against his ear. 

“Thank you, my dear,” she added. Fenris turned his head. 

The cards. Of course she was holding the cards. 

“Why argue,” he asked, taking a step back, “if you intended to take them in the first place?”

“It was the principle of the thing,” Hawke said, shrugging. 

Fenris scoffed and shook his head, but she only smiled up at him and pushed off the door. 

“Come on, then,” she said, hooking her fingers into his belt and tugging lightly. “Let me give you the rest.”

And Fenris, as they’d both known he would, followed gladly.

#fenris #fenris dragon age #maria hawke #fenhawke #da2 #my writing #da fanfic #doing a quiet dance in my office because i finished a whole piece c: #and my special yarn gets here today so i can go back to working on my fenris scarf! #anyways i love them and i think the idea of maria constantly pretending to pull things from behind his back and/or his ear is so funny #bc he is so deadpan most of the time #au where she is a stage magician and he is a begrudging audience participant #oops. now i gotta add it to the story idea list #shivunin scrivening

[ravenmoodle]

Posting possessed boys at late hours.

"The ghostly figure of Liam's body hung, floating above a well. His eyes white disks, almost reflective- a third hovered above his forehead. His hair lifting off of him as if he was underwater, spectral arms moving beside him.

the cackling of hyenas filled the trees. Maybe 15 of them, all about half the size of the trees around them. Black, shadowy canine figures moving between the trees, their bodies an indistinguishable mass; aside from the shine of their eyes and teeth as the blue light cast onto them"

#my art #OCs #ghost boy #Werewolves #forest #writing #hard to tag this. I just had a really cool image for these guys in my head and had to get it out there #second time this has happened with this world- the other one was magician dad. #i'll probably put the writing from THAT one on Ratreon tho. but i'll put the art here- no worries #Liam #Modern monsters #possessed #Liam is my little ghost hunter boy that has an ancient ghost hiding inside his body. #he got attacked my werewolves. we've all been there

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

the specific scene from the Concept eating my brain that i 100% had to exorcise tonight was: Quentin Coldwater At A Singles Mixer, ft me finally finding an excuse to work in my very passionate belief about teen quentin’s love of donnie darko:

“Nice shirt.”

Quentin says “What?” because he’s wearing a completely normal and boring flannel over a white T-shirt, and then “Thank you,” because that’s what normal people say when someone pays them a compliment, and then “Oh — because — I get it,” because he finally clocks that the girl who said it is wearing what looks to be the exact same one, and finally “Yours, too,” because now that he sees it he can’t just not complete the joke even if it makes him look even less capable of human interaction than he already does.

Miraculously, the girl in the flannel does not start backing slowly away. Instead she says, “My friend dragged me here. And you look like you’re having about as much fun as I am, so I’m guessing — you too?”

Quentin blinks, surprised. “Uh — yeah, kind of.” Close enough, anyway.

Flannel girl rolls her eyes. “These things are so fucking stupid, right?”

He snorts, relieved at least one person in this room shares his feelings. “Yeah, I could think of about five or ten… thousand things I’d rather be doing.”

“Same. Starting with a fucking root canal.”

“Sure,” he agrees. “I was thinking, uh, DMV on a slow day.”

“Calc final.”

“Meta-trig practicum on the full moon.”

“Dragged by wild horses.”

“Burned at the stake.”

“Family reunion with the Florida half.”

“Oof,” Quentin says sympathetically. “I was going to say death by leeches, but I think your thing sounds worse.”

Flannel girl smiles. “So what would you really be doing tonight, if you weren’t here?”

“Honestly?” He rolls his eyes at himself. “Probably something like watching Donnie Darko for the nine hundredth time in bed.”

She strikes a pose. “Never doubt my commitment to sparkle motion!”

Quentin feels himself smile automatically at the phrase. “You a fan?”

“I was like, obsessed with that movie in high school,” she says. “Jena Malone was so formative for me.”

“Theatrical release or director’s cut?”

“Oh, definitely original. The director’s cut is like, let’s take this movie that’s dense and weird and compelling, and just make it some masturbatory sci-fi bullshit. Like, if I wanted to be lectured to about the ins and outs of time travel, I’d just watch Primer, you know?”

“Okay, agreed, but — I do love Primer.”

“Primer’s great. But I find it hard to believe any of the depressed fifteen-year-olds of America are watching Primer every Friday night to feel a little less alone for two hours.”

“No, yeah, it’s a different thing. It’s an intellectual exercise more than anything else, whereas Donnie Darko — theatrical release — the thing that makes it great is it really gets at what it’s like to — feel something. A — a weird, dark, fucked up, adolescent something. But it feels fucking real.”

“It’s a movie for kids who think their problem is their brain, but really it’s that their heart is too big for their body and they’re about ten years from figuring that out.”

“Totally. That’s actually, like, kind of a beautiful way of putting it.”

“I told you. I’ve thought about this movie a lot.” She sticks out a hand. “I’m Maya, by the way.”

“Quentin.” He shakes the offered hand. It occurs to him that he’s actually, like — doing this, maybe? Like he’s — he’s at this fucking singles thing, as a person to meet people to date, and he’s actually kind of — hit it off, with this girl. He’s — not the greatest at picking up social cues, but he’s pretty sure that’s what’s happening. Not like she’s flirting with him, or whatever, because, like, she’s not, but — they’re having a conversation, and it’s not the worst. He’s sort of hoping it keeps going, rather than praying it will end. That’s — not nothing, for him. And she — just introduced herself, so, she probably wouldn’t — mind? And — god, he really doesn’t want to go through this whole ordeal, but he told Eliot he’d give it his best, so, he basically has to at least shoot his shot here, right? He rakes a hand through his hair, trying not to sound nervous. “Hey, um — okay, so I know we were just talking about how stupid this whole thing is, and how we hate it, and like, no pressure, or hard feelings, or anything like that, but — I mean, I don’t hate talking to you, and we — we maybe have some stuff in common, so — did you want to, I don’t know, maybe trade numbers? Or something?”

Her face sags into a pitying look that lets him know immediately he’s made a grave error. “Oh, that’s sweet, but —”

“Sorry,” he rushes to get out, “I’m sorry, forget it, I shouldn’t have —”

“No, it’s fine, it’s just — I’m like, super gay, dude.”

“Oh.” That’s — not the kind of humiliation he was expecting. “Well that’s — cool. I mean, not — I’m not trying to say it is or isn’t any, uh, any thing, like I’m not trying to like, congratulate you, because why would you need my, my approval, or — you don’t —” Stop talking, he pleads with himself. Just stop talking. “Just. You know. Yeah.”

Maya peers at him. “The Jena Malone thing didn’t tip you off?”

Quentin shrugs. “I guess I’m not really thinking about that kind of thing when I talk to people, usually.”

“Ah. Well, if it makes you feel any better —” She smiles. “That’s definitely the least repulsively I’ve ever been hit on by a straight guy.”

He snorts. “I think we both know that’s a pretty low bar to clear.” That gets a laugh out of her, at least. “And I’m actually — not. Straight, I mean.”

“Oh.” She wrinkles her nose in apology or embarrassment. “Sorry. My bad.”

“It’s not like it matters, it’s just — you know. For the sake of accuracy, or whatever.”

She tilts her head. “I mean it… kind of matters.”

“Okay, obviously in like a kind of macro societal sense, yes, this is a facet of human existence that matters in all kinds of, uh, legal and historical and cultural ways,” Quentin says, residual exasperation bubbling to the surface, “but on, like, an individual level, person to person, I feel like it’s one of those things where reasonable people can maybe learn to agree to disagree.”

“Uh huh,” she says, skeptical and amused. “I feel like maybe this is a conversation you’re having with someone who is… not me.”

He sighs. “Sorry. Yeah. It’s a bit of a sore spot right now, maybe.”

“An ex?”

“You… could say that. I guess. Or — kind of. Maybe? I don’t know. It’s complicated. Like, we’re not together, but it’s not necessarily over over, and also he’s one of my best friends and we sort of live together, at least when he’s — in town, so — complicated.”

“It’s too bad this isn’t going to work out, because you would make a great lesbian.”

Quentin laughs. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” She bites her lip. “Actually — if you like movies… there’s this really cool Korean horror movie showing at Metrograph on Sunday that I couldn’t talk anyone into going with me, because somehow I’m friends with people who do this sort of shit” — she gestures ambiently — “for fun. God knows I’m not above going to a movie by myself, but if you wanted to join me, as friends…”

“Oh.” This is about as unexpected as walking away from this with an actual date would be. And — maybe weirdly almost as nice? Maybe even nicer, given that he doesn’t actually want to date anyone not named Eliot Waugh, but he, like, could probably stand to be friends with one person he’s not basically trauma-bonded with at this point. Some might even argue that could be healthy. “Yeah. That sounds kind of great, actually.”

“Awesome.” Maya flashes him a smile. “In the meantime, I think I’m supposed to go mingle, but I think if I stay here another five minutes, I’m going to hurl.”

“I know a hedge bar like three blocks south of here,” he says. “If we leave now I think we can still catch their happy hour.”

“Lead the way,” she says, and gratefully Quentin starts walking towards the exit.

#i cheated on my WIP for this but i think that now that i have this down i can like #put a pin in it and let the rest percolate for some time while i do other stuff #writing tag #the magicians

[echo-ai]

ok but real talk about the Fontaine quest, why are we(the traveler) fine with Childe being around as a Fatui Harbinger, but the second someone brings up Lyney and Lynette being raised in the House of Hearth, we(the traveler) get all huffy like this was some form of betrayal. Like we have this one ginger who seems really really into us, this one transmasc emo boy who's now being rehabilitated by the child goddess of wisdom, we've run into many fatui agents who like - this is just their job man they aren't involved in world domination. I don't know, I just think we're past the point where we(the traveler) should keep clutching our pearls at the mention of people possibly being involved with Genshin Russia.

#echo.txt #genshin impact #fontaine spoilers #seriously i dont know if this is a writing issue or what but like #why are we more calm against the very emotionally volitile ginger who loves us so dearly(?) #but we can't be cool with two orphaned magicians??? #and lyney is very clearly so sorry about it too! it's not like they were hiding it purposely #the topic literally just never came up in conversation #how were they supposed to know they were going to be defamed in court #my autism is showing so bad I can't take this clear miscommunication calmly fjfgjgdng #fontaine #childe #tartaglia #scaramouche #genshin impact fatui