#maybe we keep writing for the humanity of the connection

[vsaintsin]

One of the homies, earlier this week - "Yeah, I didn't plan on reading your book because I was afraid I'd like it too much and then start driving you insane with questions and talking about it."

I-... My brother in christ WHAT?! If this is an excuse it's a bad one? I don't mind if you don't read it, engagement with my creation is not a stipulation of my friendship. I MIND THAT YOU THINK I OR ANY OTHER WRITER WOULDN'T GO FERAL FOR THAT?! Who do you think I did all this world building and character development for, THE WALL?!

I need a tea and a lie down, I've been deprived of the Rabid Reader. I absolutely cannot get this conversation off my mind, it's rotting my brain.

"Bother" that writer you like. If it actually bothers them they didn't deserve you, but the rest of us sure would be willing to take you.

#in what world #every creator i know dreams of this #you are not annoying a creator by engaging with their work with your love #in fact you're making them gnaw on the bars of their enclosure #giving them the strength to keep writing #we start writing for ourselves #maybe we keep writing for the humanity of the connection #I just needed to get that out of my system

[cryptotheism]

How do cards gain meaning in an occult sense? Like, both tarot and french-suited playing cards started as game pieces, but they have gained an understood meaning. Is it just someone whips up an organized table of connected ideas or is each card interpreted from a certain framework?

Oh good question!

Many things that we now consider staples of western magic are ideas that have been added to over generations by several layers of thinkers. Tarot Divination specifically is an excellent example of this!

In 1770, A french printmaker and occultist going by Etteilla published a book about how to do cartomancy with a 32-card Piquet deck. He writes down some simple but strict associations for the cards, and makes what is probably the first mention of reversals in carotmancy. He said that he learned the system "from an Italian." Now, its unclear how much of the system is his own invention, people have been doing cartomancy for as long as there's been cards, but the text presents a larval, bare-bones version of the cartomancy methods we know and love today.

Its 1780-ish. The Rosetta stone hasn't been discovered yet. Occult-inclined Europeans are obsessed with Egypt. That's where our boy Trismegistus is from! There's a concept in Egyptian mythology called The Book of Thoth, a mythical book of spells penned by the God of Knowledge himself. This was the Holy Grail for European Occult Egpytaboos.

In 1781, Antoine Court de Gébelin claimed that Tarot cards were the "original book of Thoth," Saying that Tarot cards had been used by ancient Egyptian priests for their own magical ceremonies, and that their designs contained ancient mystical secrets. This is 100% not true, but he writes a pretty fun pseudohistory for Tarot that involves Romani people bringing the decks to Europe through the Levant where they then taught its esoteric secrets to several Popes.

Then in 1783, Ettellia responded with another book. Manière de se récréer avec le jeu de cartes nommées tarots ("Way to recreate yourself with the deck of cards called tarots") Where Ettellia basically claims "uhm actually I knew about tarot divination way before Court de Gebelin published that big ass book. But anyway here's an interpretation of Tarot symbology that includes multiple references to Egyptian, Zoroastrian, and Greek mythology." But the smartest thing he did was include spread methods that involved Thoth and Numerology. Napoleonic Occultists fucking loved Thoth and numerology.

In 1788, he formed a little magical society for the express purpose of discussing and workshopping ideas for Tarot divination. In 1789, he made a TRULY smart decision, and published a Tarot deck that was Specifically For Magic, and that basically cemented Tarots place in magical history.

Occultists just kept iterating! Someone would speculate "maybe the suits correspond to the elements" and people went "yeah, they correspond to the elements! That makes this tool even more fun and interesting to use!" Then people go "What if the suits and the elements also correspond to parts of the Self?" and people went "Sure they do! That makes this tool even more interesting!"

But its also not just one thread. Eventually you get the Golden Dawn saying "The Major Arcana correspond to the nodes and paths on our version of the Quabbalistic Sefirot, you know, the hermetic version with a Q." and some occultists responded "Idk about that! Love what you've done with the color symbology though!"

The development of magical ideas is an iterative process. It is people whipping up a table of correspondences, but that table needs a mythology to keep it together. Originally, the mythology that gave tarot "power" was its Egyptian pseudohistory, but these days its the fact that occultists have been iterating on and fine-tuning this system for hundreds of years.

Humans don't think in tables of information, they think in stories. The cool thing about stories is that they're flexible. If magic is anything, its learning how to engineer stories to make the tables of information more effective.

I'm gonna plug my patreon where I post all of my occult research if you wanna see more stuff like this

#Tarot #Occult #I was supposed to edit today but I couldn't pass up this opportunity for a micro essay #cartomancy

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 22

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 21, Part 23

Warnings: Sagau Imposter au reader with lots of gore and stuff. Minors are warned but not prohibited.

“What a shrewd mortal you are.” The snake hisses as she travels down Baizhu’s arm to face you better. The V-shaped tongue does little to hide the ivory fangs hidden in her maw.

“I appreciate the compliment, but I suggest you reserve your judgment for the main topics of our discussion.”

“Arrogant too, I see!” An amused scoff leaves Changsheng at your bold words, all while Baizhu’s smile remains unchanging. After shutting the door behind him, he keeps his arm perched for Changsheng before sitting on the small stool near the bed.

“It seems you’re feeling much better now than last night. Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?” 

“None at all.” You lie politely. Getting tied down here any longer than the decided discharge time would be a hassle. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Baizhu trails off to write something down on the paper he’s holding as Changsheng decides to start the discussion. Despite her small body, she speaks with the same pride the Adepti held. 

“We are already well aware of your body’s abnormalities. But in order for us to get a proper grasp of the scar tissue culture, you’ll need to answer some personal questions.”

Smiling without a hint of unease, you respond as you sit up to face them. “Seems you’re quite interested in me. Or should I say suspicious?”

A swift denial is what you expect. Maybe a truthful answer showcasing her confidence could happen too.

“Does a human who would rather hide their face, rather than accept the consequences of being bare, have any right to question my curiosity?”

Snakes are known to be sly for a reason. Baizhu’s slight upturned eyes at Changsheng’s words only solidify that belief further.

“I guess it was a dumb question.” You shrug, the subtle jab rolling off you with ease. “I am quite popular, I strongly doubt that you've had a patient quite like me.”

Your teeth are bared in a grin at Changsheng, fully aware of what the display means to the animal. 

She merely hmph’s at you before turning her head to the side as Baizhu cuts in amicably.

“Depending on what I discover in this sample, your words may be true Y/N. Why not first explain how you are the Creator’s oracle?”

Lips pursing as your eyes travel to the side of the room, your finger taps rhythmically on your chin. Wondering, contemplating on how you should answer.

At your silence, Changsheng’s eyes narrow as if she's frowning, while Baizhu’s smile turns almost sympathetic.

“I wouldn't pry into this matter as your physician, but as being an adventurer is your official occupation, I felt the need to question this Oracle one. Quite a few jobs connected to The Creator tend to manifest some otherwise unseen conditions.”

If one looked at it on the surface, they would see a concerned doctor looking to take all situations in accouint. But all you see is an ill person investigating a promising lead.

Baizhu’s quest for immortality was always closely connected to the Adepti, and you just had to be outed by a disciple of one.

“It's not like that child was the only one to refer to you as such. Why would an Oracle even hide such basic information from trusted acolytes like ourselves?”

Changsheng’s tone is scathing, and her question is sarcastic. The hot and cold of the pair’s demeanor and words were easy to recognize.

The kind of tactic they were trying to pull on you was the classic ‘good cop, bad cop’ schtick. 

Baizhu’s honeyed words were to coax the information from someone nervous and fearful, while Changsheng’s harshness was meant to pressure and intimidate someone into spilling. 

Something this dubious in a medical setting shouldn't exist. At least not yet, anyway. Most medical malpractice from eras in the past were born from discrimination, religious propaganda and general inexperience of the human anatomy and physiology.

It sure as hell shouldn't work on any sane adult, let alone from someone like Baizhu who is widely trusted but also suspected.

But then you think back on the kind of people that exist in Teyvat. The strange practices seen as normal, the terrifying yet mesmerizing creatures that roam, and your cult…

Yeah, more than one person must have bent to their will. While you doubt it was done with any bad intention. The fact of the matter is that Baizhu could have removed your mask, but clearly didn't. It still wasn't right.

Then again, why should you care? As long as you keep yourself in check to not reveal any more than necessary, then you were satisfied with that.

No need to play hero in a world that can't see past someone's physical features. The heart you once had that urged you to try and change to become a better person has already been burned away.

“Well, this is classified information, but I do have approval to explain my unique circumstances in these kinds of cases.”  

Your smile is sheepish as you tilt your head and avoid their matching piercing gaze. As if you caved into their words and finally came clean.

“I suppose you can say that being an adventurer is my day job, as my true mission is to uncover the truths behind cult members and acolytes alike on their devotion to the Holy One.”

Baizhu’s smile widens, just a smidge at your words. Changsheng is not nearly as impressed and hisses out her first question.

“And how does that justify the matching scars along your body to the Almighty?”

Just how did Changsheng get to say such brutal questions without being frowned upon? Probably because she's a talking snake.

Many adults in this world probably find it unimaginable and fear her, thinking she's on the level of an Adepti. Others may view her as almost unreal and much like a doll to be played with, downplaying her words and sharp intellect like a child.

You just find her as surreal as a dream; Almost detached in a way from the sheer absurdity of a talking snake. It's only thanks to your knowledge from when you were a player that you can see her for herself.

Smiling, you reply to her question with a carefully constructed answer. Admittedly, this question was always one you were afraid of encountering.

“This body belongs to The Creator, and The Creator alone. When I was first summoned by the Almighty and commanded of my mission, they desired to mark me in a way that no one could deny as a connection to them. I chose to be scarred in the same fashion as them.”

A wide smile, almost manic in nature, stretches across your mouth. Calloused fingers intertwined before covering your lips as if to coyly hide. 

“And what better way is there? A subtle yet bold imprinting of the Creator’s hold over me. A way to experience the suffering our poor God must have gone through to be branded like that.”

Words spoken colorfully are nearly purred before you're left with uncontrollable giggles. You finally calm down with a dreamy sigh as you look at the contracted partners.

Baizhu and Changsheng are silent throughout your whole act. The only movement made was them sharing a glance.

And there is only one emotion you can see bloom so vividly in their exchanged eyes. 

Discomfort.

---------------

It's safe to say that neither of them asked any more questions about the matter. Changsheng basically fled the room to “bask in the sun on the windowsill in the hall rather than stay with a human like that.”

You don't take any offense to it. In fact, you're overjoyed that your act worked. The only way to stop them from coming to the natural question of: “Does this mean their face is also like the Creator’s?” was to stop them from wanting to think on that train of thought.

It's exactly why you've been so careful to not let your body be so exposed. At least in regard to your torso, as scars on limbs are much easier to disregard.

Acting as a fanatic really was one of the best and easiest ways to throw off suspicion. No one really tries to dig for anything from a crazy person. After all, they have no sensible rhyme or reason to their actions.

It, of course, came with its own risks. Doing it too much will make people think that you’re actually insane rather than just unstable and will never trust you. And even the act itself can only work in certain situations with the right people, or else everything will fall apart.

That’s why you only use it when you see no other choice like now. Both Baizhu and Changsheng are under confidentiality agreements to not speak about you as a patient and considering the normal behavior for believers, your actions shouldn’t be too taboo.

Just a tad bit surprising.

The feather-light tap on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts as you look at the ever-present smile on the doctor. Baizhu sits back down on the stool once he’s sure he has your attention before speaking.

“Since you’ve explained more than enough about your background, we can move on to taking a culture sample of the scar tissue.” Your eyes roam the room for any tools needed for the procedure, and furrow when you fail to find any.

“At least that’s what I would say if I didn’t take it during the initial treatment.” If Baizhu wasn’t such a good doctor, you would ask if his license was revoked yet. This sure as hell doesn’t sound legal.

Annoyance must have been clear on your face as Baizhu leans a little closer to respond calmly. “I can assure you that this is very normal and practiced by many physicians. I just felt the need to tell you, as we agreed to you receiving a form of compensation.”

His eyes slither down your body to linger on where he must have taken the sample. “It would have been a hassle for us both if I waited till now to take it. I would have had to cut your skin after it healed so nicely, meaning you would be at risk for an infection.”

Baizhu may not be acting as obviously as a fanatic as you were earlier, but he was making you wildly uncomfortable. It’s a struggle to keep your body from tensing up under his growing gaze.

“So what did you choose as compensation? Last time we spoke about this, I don’t believe you had a set answer yet.”

With your mind reorienting back to how you can gain from this situation, you request your choice confidently.

“I want the strongest knock-out drug or sedation or whatever other name it goes by that you have. Something that can’t be obtained over the counter. Something that borders on being illegal.”

Was it strange to request this? It seems so, judging by Baizhu’s smile dropping as his eyebrows pinch together in what could be confused as worry.

But it’s a necessity to you.

Yelan and Shenhe couldn’t be dealt with due to the strength imbalance. That would take months, if not years, for you to get to a level where you can fight them one on one without using every means possible to win. Other acolytes exist that were even better than them, some that weren’t even human.

As the environment and tools in your disposal were much different and limited compared to when you were on Earth, you needed something more on the trap side. Having that weird, almost instant knowledge of weapons, elemental energy and rare bursts of power was the most you could ask for in combat. But it would be best to avoid combat if you can.

This drug would be the perfect way to.

“There are plenty of sleeping aids available over the counter. Why not choose from them rather than get a prescription for one from me?”

Baizhu is more than well aware of why you are requesting this, as he specifically addresses it as a mere ‘sleeping aid’. Whether he’s worried about you or for you doesn’t matter.

“I’m not questioning and probing for more answers as to how my tissue sample is so connected to your research. So you shouldn’t be trying to question mine, either.”

His whole face seems to light up at your swift and defensive response. “You have nothing to worry about, my dear.”

A smooth chuckle leaves him as he leans down to whisper into your ear from where you sit on the bed. “I’ll get you exactly what you desire and with any luck, my research will make leaps and bounds of progress.”

Goosebumps are raised across your skin as he stands back up straight. The square-framed glasses almost hiding the slitted golden eyes that try to devour you glint from the sunlight streaming in.

Baizhu leaves and you can finally breathe.

—----------------------

Time passes by slowly and with little options to cure your boredom, you find yourself engrossed in deciding which of Teyvat’s many delicacies you want to try. Last time you cooked on Beidou’s ship, the cooking laws followed the same logic as it did when you played the game.

It was one of the few perks you had from being the Creator. You had to make it count.

Even if it was just to distract yourself from overthinking the upcoming meeting with Ningguang.

It’s the wind’s echoing of the footsteps gradually getting louder that pull you out of the screen and back into the present. With a satisfying stretch, you sit up properly and yell a “Come in!” when a knock rings out.

Different shades of blue hair can be seen entering as Xingqiu strolls in with Chongyun behind him.

You greet them first with a toothy smile and lazy wave. “It's been a while since we last saw each other. Glad to see you both made it back here safely.”

Tension immediately leaves Xingqiu’s shoulders at your words, as Chongyun moves past him to take a hold of your shoulders.

“How could you be so reckless?!” His hair is slicked back, giving you a clear view of his pinched brows and lips bitten raw.

“The Adepti aren't beings to mess with, you could have really died!” Did he think the Adepti were responsible for your injuries? It would be the only logical conclusion, since Yelan chasing you was definitely a secret operation and Shenhe was just by chance.

“I shouldn't have let the confusing mess sweep me along, making me blindly listen to you. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten this seriously hurt.”

He's hot, you blandly take note as his fingers dig into the clothing. It even seeped through your clothing, but you can't bring yourself to push him off.

Not when he's trying to hide how they shake as if he's the one shivering in a snowstorm.

“Why did you push us to leave with the victims? You and Xingqiu are eloquent enough to have convinced them to let you come back with us! How could you push us away?!”

… Was he trying to blame you? Briefly looking away from the frosty yet heated gaze of Chongyun, you glance at Xingqiu. His head is turned away, and he makes no effort to stop or step in.

“If you just let us help you rather than pushing us away, everything could have been avoided!” What the hell? “I should have just ran back when we were still close enough. Then you wouldn't have been so severely hurt.”

The constant whiplash of Chongyun’s words and emotions confused you. Grabbing his hands, you pry him off and pushed him away.

“I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. Okay, maybe better choices could have been made, but what's the point in dwelling on them now?” There's an annoyed bite to your tone that slips out.

Like gasoline to a fire, Chongyun explodes on you.

“What's the point?! The point is that you nearly died due to something that could have been prevented if we just thought a little harder! What if you died? What would you do then? Nothing! Because it'd be too late!”

His face is red as he yells, and his words feel like a forgotten consciousness crawling back to you. Infesting you with the long forgotten fear of what death had in store for you.

“So what?! That's for me to deal with, not you! If I die then, I die and if I live, then I live.” There's an ugly smile on your face that twists into a snarl. “You don't need to feel responsible for what happened, okay? So don't try to berate me and stew on what is already done.”

Jitters run through Chongyun’s body as he breathes loudly and takes a step forward-Only to get stopped by Xingqiu grabbing his arm.

“Stop it Chongyun. That's enough, your yang spirit is out of control and making you hotheaded.”

“But they-”

“Enough.” Xingqiu’s voice is firm as his grip visibly tightens around the joint. “Cool off inside the room or outside. It's your choice.”

Chongyun glares at Xingqiu before ripping his hand away and stomping to the corner. It's only with the distance that you can see how his fingers tremble worse than an addict.

The popsicle he pulls out is shoved into his throat as sweat visibly sticks to his skin and his haggard breathing becomes visible.

Maybe you should feel sympathetic, but all you can hear is his anger and accusations in your ears.

“Y/N…” Xingqiu’s voice calls out, and you finally get to see his face and take note of the slight red rim around his eyes.

He's been crying, you realize, and what makes it worse is how uncomfortable you feel at the sight.

“Chongyun was definitely in the wrong for getting so mad and starting the fight with you.” He glances over at the Cryo user, who refuses to look at either of you. 

You can spot faint bite marks dotting his fingernails.

“But it's not completely his fault either. He-We’ve been worried ever since we arrived at Liyue and never found you. We tried to-”

“That still doesn't make sense. Just why get so worked up over me missing a few days. I'm an adult, I'll be fine. Hell, I am fine!”

You're agitated and on edge, but for the life of you, you can't tell why. A small part of you, the sensible part of your brain, is already whispering that you're going too far, but you shut it down.

“Why even get mad at me about this? Why not the Adepti?!” Xingqiu’s silent stare at you is like needles prickling your skin.

The annoyance, frustration and confusion are what you cling to at this moment.

“Is it because they're firm believers of the Creator? Is it because you can't trust me as an Oracle?! Or is it because-”

“IT’S BECAUSE WE CARE!” Chongyun bellows out from his spot, whipping around to face you once more.

He takes long strides to you and reaches out his hands to touch you, to grab you-

But stops abruptly at your poorly hidden flinch. His expression morphs into something less fiery, with more hesitancy in his actions.

You let his hands awkwardly rest once again on your shoulders. But instead of the heat you experienced before, his fingers are cool but not cold.

“We were worried because we care about you.” Chongyun doesn't look the same as before. You decide to blame his hairstyle for that.

“I'm sorry for getting so worked up.” He starts slowly, his grip loosening with each word he utters. “I took the anger I had against myself on you, and I'm sorry for that.”

It's foreign to have them worry over your safety. To truly get this emotional over the thought of you dying.

But when you think back to your words and how you reacted in this whole argument, embarrassment creeps in.

“I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have snapped so easily and accused you guys of strange things.”

Yun Jin’s betrayal may have bothered you more than you realized. Not that you were unfamiliar with betrayal, but you didn't expect that a traditionally ‘good’ character would be so quick to sway.

The more you think about it, the more shame you feel.

“While I'm glad you both have made up for the high stress argument, I'm afraid we have more serious matters to discuss.”

Xingqiu’s words alert you both back into the present as he smoothly separates you from Chongyun.

“Ah, that's right, I almost forgot…” Chongyun mumbles to himself, only making you more confused on what the issue was.

“I'm not sure how, but the Qixing knew that you were the main party responsible for saving the kidnapped victims even before you arrived here in this state.”

What? 

The surprise must have been clear on your face as Xingqiu repeated his words and explained with more detail.

“Ganyu did arrive and focus the spotlight on her, but the Qixing immediately poked holes in it. The most adamant was the Yuheng.”

How would your incident with the Geovishap hatchling make Keqing believe you would save the children and not be the one to kidnap them?

The guild wouldn't disclose that information. It was literally stated on the contract Khan signed due to the seriousness of the commission. The breech in the confidentiality contract would be enough to warrant a lawsuit or legal action, they wouldn't risk it.

Did you talk to any guards about the case when searching for information? Anyone notable enough to report to Keqing?

It was no use, you couldn't remember all the details due to how long it's been since then.

“We thought that maybe you had already talked to her, so we brushed it off, but it got worse when we tried to go find you.”

Xingqiu gestures animatedly as he speaks. “Not only were there almost double the guards around the main entrances and exits, but I noticed at least four guards following me in the days leading up to your appearance.”

“We were repeatedly stopped from leaving and even when we tried leaving through unconventional ways, they still found us.” Chongyun finishes as he recounts the events.

“Only once were we able to leave the city in the dead of night, and it was the Yuheng herself that stopped us. She said that since we brought the victims back, she had reason to keep us in the city until further notice.”

Xingqiu scowls as he remembers the memory before cursing. “One hell of a convenient ass excuse.”

Chongyun finishes their story as he opens the curtain slightly and gestures to you to look out with him.

“This morning we both received letters saying we were free to leave now. It was just a few minutes later that we heard about you being brought here. And what do we see when we came to visit the first time?”

Following Chongyun’s line of sight, your breath catches at the sight of a Millelith guard hiding in a shaded area under a golden leaf tree.

“There’s even more in buildings and outside the window view.” Xingqiu adds as he takes the other side beside you.

Knuckles clutching the window sill tightly, you forcibly breathe in and out. Thoughts of just how long they've been watching you, what they could have done, and what they could have seen whirls around your brain.

All those Crystalflies, weasel thieves and the conversations you exchanged were now at risk of being exposed. With your heart thumping painfully loud in your chest, you wonder: What could they have already reported?

What was all your work in keeping out of the Qixing’s sight for? Ganyu didn't have much power, Keqing is set against you, Yun Jin betrayed you, Beidou’s gone and Ningguang already tried to off you with Yelan.

What did you possibly have left?

The two hands that lay on you startle but also ground you back to the present. Smooth skin and icy fingers draw your eyes to switch between the two vision holders.

“It'll be okay, Y/N. If they truly wanted to kill you, then they wouldn't have let you rest easily here.” 

“It's true, Ningguang once poisoned the water supply that specifically went to certain patients in a different clinic.”

And now you feel like shit again. It's not like you could trust Baizhu-you weren't even completely sure whether he intentionally hid the existence of the guards!

At your visible dampened mood, Chongyun lightly kicks Xingqiu’s shin, who only hisses at the pain before retaliating.

Watching them childishly fight like this is fun, a simple and small pleasure that you savor after all the bad news and confusing mysteries. 

That's right. You weren't alone. Not totally, at least.

It was painful to think about how your plan to avoid and leisurely please the Qixing failed, but it wasn't all over. Xingqiu and Chongyun thoroughly proved themselves on whose side they were on.

And if push came to shove, you could agree to marry Zhongli and let him deal with your problems.

“Don't worry too much, you two.” At your sudden but cryptic words, both of them stop and look at you.

Smiling serenely despite the turbulence your heart was suffering through, you give a vague explanation. 

“I already have a scheduled meeting with Ningguang. I'll either be praised by the masses as the oracle I am, or show up in a casket at the Wangsheng’s Funeral Parlor.”

Ending it with a sneaky grin, you press a finger to your lips. “I'm aiming for the third option of getting minor recognition before hitchhiking to Mondstadt.”

Rewriting this crap since TUMBLR KICKED ME OUT. I copy the ending that I wrote and only one word of it actually saved for me to paste. I wanna strangle this website. But anyway, got back from vacation, slept, unpacked and finished setting up everything properly after my editor finished. Just rechecked and turns out Tumblr also removed all the italics and bold which I had to re-add, how NICE I did manage to get a whole nice length chapter finished while I was away but I'm saving that for later as school is starting. I wanna have it there and post it in a while when I'm swamped while trying to get my school in order. So. Looking. Forward. To. It. :) I finished reading a few previous chapters to keep everything on track and wow. Y/N used to be so happy and hopeful lol. I would ask what happened but I’M what happened. It was still really fun to reread the adventure with Ayato. Perhaps it wasn’t obvious but Baizhu didn’t completely fall for the fanatic act. Changsheng trust her own judgement too much to look past the surface unless the person is visibly mysterious or pulling away. That’s why Baizhu could act the way he does despite the initial discomfort he felt (which was not faked) Taglist: Open as always!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx,

#whisp's amateur work #genshin sagau #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #yandere x reader #yandere xingqiu #yandere chongyun #yandere baizhu #yandere changsheng #yandere #genshin impact sagau #sagau #sagau oracle au #done editing 2.0 #Nothing is really changed #just refined #at least the updated taglist saved on my master draft...

[tanoraqui]

obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

#doctor who #JRR Tolkien #ficlet #my fic

[oozedninjas]

Heyyyy I was wondering if you could do how the boys realize they're in love with you and how they react to said realization? Maybe even how long they'd take to confess??

Sorry if that's too much in one go or if you've already done it, ily and I love your writing <3

These are technically two requests so I'll just stick to "How they realize they're in love" if that's okay :)

MDNI / Turtle guys are mid to late twenties

BAYVERSE GUYS REALIZING THEY'RE IN LOVE

---

Leonardo:

Once he notices, Leo would carefully consider the implications that come with romantic emotions and reflect upon whether or not he's willing to go through what it entails to give himself to someone.

He would make sure this isn't just a fleeting thing before making any decisions on acting upon those feelings. Once he does, he'll drop little hints that surpass obviousness.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't that he is not brave enough to make the moves; it's just that he assumes that what he has to offer is little and prefers to give you all the signs. This way, if you want a relationship with him, you have the necessary tools to let him see that you do want to be courted.

Donatello:

Donnie's sharp enough to recognize what he's feeling the moment he discerns those exquisite tingles in his chest as something beyond just excitement. Yet, like the reserved creature that he is, digesting such emotions and coming to terms with them is… another thing entirely.

I think he would tough it out for the most part. Often bombarded by intrusive thoughts of a negative reaction on your side if you were to find out. His mind plays tricks on him, making him daydream about delightful dates with you, followed by the voice of mockery asserting that could never come to happen.

He has to be realistic. It isn't logical that someone as beautiful and brilliant as you are would risk being with a non-human creature who's not even biologically compatible with you. No, he's better off as your friend.

Raphael:

He knows what he feels for you; however, he refuses to accept it in his heart (or in front of anyone else, for that matter) because it would be too painful not to be reciprocated. Nevertheless, as his feelings for you grow, so do the desires to protect you and keep you safe and secure. This makes it difficult for him to conceal his true feelings to a sharp, tenacious eye as your own.

If he comes to confess his feelings, Raphael would strive to balance his rough exterior with moments of tenderness, as he recognizes the importance of displaying his softer side to achieve more deepening emotional connections.

Mikey

Mikey's excitement and eagerness to be around you would give him away in the blink of an eye. It's cute because he holds this "We should totally date! Haha, joking, joking... UNLESS!" attitude all the time.

I think he would express his feelings in a joyful, creative form. You can expect an outpouring of artistic expressions: drawings, poems, or spontaneous acts of affection.

I think Mike's the one with a higher rate of emotional intelligence; many lessons he's learned across his journey, and in his adult years, it's easier for him to establish his limits and boundaries. With this in mind, I think he would ponder if it's worth potentially ruining his friendship with you. If the answer is yes, he goes with everything he's got.

#tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt bayverse #tmnt 2k16 #tmnt leo x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #tmnt mikey x reader #tmnt bayverse leo #tmnt bayverse raph #tmnt bayverse donnie #tmnt bayverse mikey #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2007 #tmnt raphael #tmnat leo #tmnt dannie #tmnt mikey #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael x reader

[nwarrior777]

Science Museum Group changed offensive object tittle after getting my letter

here's the story about it:

Wonderful @solariium commissioned me wonderful victorian-era wheelchair user character to draw. Refs were provided, and one of the links was an object in online museum gallery - vintage wheelchair.

solariium, who is wheelchair user theirself, mentioned that tittle of the object is incorrect but it was good picture for the ref. i wondered "what's with the tittle?" looked in the link and saw

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Invalid chair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

welp. incorrect indeed! [i* is outdated offensive term]

so i decided to make a special move

ID: my drawing of a character from anime "mob psycho 100" - Arataka Reigen. He holds a phone next to his ear, his face epression is very confident. It's all anime sparkles lights effects around him and text "REIGEN SPECIAL MOVE". end ID

and USE MY POWER

of writing emails

i don't have problems with writing emails, so i thought why not

and

https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/objects/co120657/carved-wooden-wheelchair-europe-1850-1890-invalid-chair

ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Carved wooden wheelchair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID

it worked!

As human who made bunch of projects, i can say that keeping museum gallery is tone of work.

And tittle change - no, it's not just changing few letters.

Changing tittle of object in museum is similar to changing name of game file. Catalogs changes, maybe they have irl gallery, so new card, they probably have some code objects system related to tittles, and scientists, students, make reference to this object in their researches and articles and etc etc.

So, yeah, it * is * a lot of work. Also, they changed description, it now says that this object was "historically referred to as ‘invalid chair’". And i think it's good, because it is not erasing fact of people used this word, and it's addition to the progress context - we literally see now old term clarified as past, and new one, now, in the tittle.

(and yes, web link. i just saw that i* word still there. yeah, not perfect but still, considering things i said above - big work done)

I used some conversation strategy in case "this is offensive can you fix" will not be enough — started on positive attitude giving compliment on their collection being big and interesting, gave them extra argument on why this should be fixed (more actual search key words on this now are "vintage wheelchair", not "i* chair"). Then we had a little letters chain, where they answered politely too, and in about few days i got detailed answer on this, and yep, changed tittle.

And i think this shows, that if someone did mistake and someone noticed it and giving feedback on it, if both sides are interested in progress and making good changes, no matter how hard it is, sides can make a change, working together and being kind. And i think we should be more brave about making such connections!

Thanks again to @solariium and museum workers!

#small big changes #wheelchair #activism #i was writing this post in drafts for a month or smth like it's my diploma work #described

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲-𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄

𝟭. set SMART goals ( 📒 )

make sure your goals are specific, measurable, actionable, realistic and time-bound. this will help you maintain focus and track your progress over time. how many times has it been you and your unrealistic to-do list against the world? well, it seems that a mile-long to-do list is not a good ally at all. remember that you are a person and not a machine, and that just dedicating four hours to deep work and concentration is A LOT. be kind to yourself and don't overload yourself with more work than you can humanly do.

𝟮. daily planning ( 🧸 )

mea culpa because i'm the first one who doesn't plan their day. to-do lists generally stress me out and make me feel overwhelmed as if i don't manage to complete all the tasks an asteroid will end up hitting the earth. but i recognize that it is a good starting point. sometimes i have too many things to do and i end up doing nothing in total confusion, but having at least a general list to follow gives me more motivation. moreover do we want to talk about the dopamine released when you tick an empty box? marvelous. maybe don't write down tasks that are too onerous and demanding, break them into several smaller tasks, also try to write simple activities such as "drink a glass of water" every now and then. having these low-commitment activities will help you stay motivated while completing more important tasks.

𝟯. reverse-engineering method ( 🪴 )

start with the end goal and work backwards to plan the actions needed to achieve it. this helps you maintain clarity on the steps to take and focus on the most relevant actions. the best thing to do is plan based on the time available and do your best to stick to your daily goal.

𝟰. timer roulette ( ⏳ )

choose a task from your to-do list and set a random timer between 15 and 45 minutes. work on that task with all your concentration until the timer goes off. this helps you fight procastination and keep your mind fresh.

𝟱. mind mapping time ( 📍 )

before starting a study session, take a few minutes to create a mental map of the subject you need to cover. this helps you see connections between concepts and organize information more effectively.

𝟲. task batching ( 🫒 )

group similar tasks together and tackle them in batches. for example, reply to all emails in one session rather than doing so at scattered times throughout the day. this helps you reduce transition time between tasks and maintain focus. contrary to popular belief, human beings are not truly multitasking (only a few possess this great ability) and when we do multiple things together we do nothing but shift our attention from one task to another, greatly reducing the quality of our performance. if possible, try to avoid these switches that are harmful to your focus and concentration.

𝟳. the pomodoro method ( 🍅 )

okay, y'all probably already know this one because it became so popular in the last year but if you don't, the pomodoro method is a time management technique developed by francesco cirillo in the late 80s. it is based on the idea of working for short periods of time, usually 25 minutes, followed by a short 5 minute break. after four rounds of work, a longer break is taken, usually 15-30 minutes. this technique helps improve concentration and productivity, as it breaks down work into manageable tasks and offers regular breaks to rest and regenerate energy. i personally prefer the 50/10 ratio while i'm studying but you decide which time ratio is better for you, i find it really useful and it helps me a lot while i'm studying for my exams.

#college #education #school #academia #note taking #student #study aesthetic #study blog #study inspiration #study motivation #study notes #study space #study tips #student life #study community #studyblr #studyinspo #studyspo #uni student #academic validation #chaotic academia #light academia #dark academia #university life #university #uni life #time management #time management strategies #pomodoro method #productivity

[who-is-page]

I've seen (typically older) therians talking about how they feel that their subculture as animal-people and nonhumans is slowly disappearing. This is a point that, in all honesty, I'm inclined to agree with-- although I think I'd perhaps frame it less as "disappearing" and more as just "changing."

Because let's be honest with ourselves here: is the subculture actually vanishing, or is it just evolving into radical new dimensions as excited newbies join and find different focal points for their nonhumanity? As they express themselves in whole new dimensions and ways, as they explore a digital landscape that didn't exist ten, twenty years ago? As the older members lose touch with the newer members, and no one bridges that gap between the two?

I think I'm also extra frustrated because when I see these discussions go down, a lot of the time they're either 1) self-pitying, or 2) finger-pointing.

It's not bad or wrong to look around and realize that the community you found comfort in has changed in ways you could have never predicted and which leave you feeling off-kilter. But approaching these changes with a complete lack of curiosity, with an absolute woe-is-me sort of perspective, where you drag your feet and glare bitter daggers at everyone else, isn't the way to do anything.

And going around trying to pin blame on whoever happens to be at hand is an even worse way to approach it. "It's the furry fandom's faults!" "It's the alterhumans' faults!" "It's the humans' faults!" Who does this approach realistically help? What does this do, beyond ostracize people and make whoever is saying it feel temporarily vindicated in their solitude, in a vicious cycle where they never step out of their ivory tower and always use how alone they are as "proof" that they're right?

I think having discussions about the ways the subculture has changed is extremely worthwhile. But I think that they're at their best when enthusiasm over sharing takes a main, central point. When you see people excitedly telling others about Werecards for the first time, or when you get to introduce someone to the concept of personal websites and webrings, or when you link someone who's only just starting to learn that there's others like them to old and new groups and forums alike. These are the ways you keep those traditions alive, these are they ways you get people both informed of and really excited about them.

And like, maybe I'm just cheesy and optimistic, but building bridges is way more fun than building walls! And more than that, I also think it's fundamentally something that's significantly more helpful and productive. I'm always so hype when I see community projects taking off that involve connecting many different people, especially if they're centered on a specific group or identity, but I also think that those sorts of things are how we keep a community healthy and moving, how we avoid things getting stagnant and rotting away.

I've said it before in past essays I've published and I'll say it again: alterhuman communities survive through their internal momentum. We're still around and kicking because we're a bunch of opinionated, passionate animals and objects and entities and people and concepts and and and-- this is what we are! This is how we all, both together and individually as separate groups, continue to be around. We write. We argue. We dance. We leave tracks. And then others see all those things, months or years down the line, and they know they're not alone. They know that it's okay to join in around the campfire, and they end up leaving their own tracks, and the cycle repeats.

So I guess what I'm saying here is that I'm not just beseeching people to create, but I'm asking you to create with others. To extend that paw towards the people around you in your immediate community spaces and wider, and to realize that yeah, the digital grains of sand and time might erode and change the landscapes we're all in, but we can still have a damn good time exploring the new nooks and crannies around us and showing others our old hidey-holes and favorite spots to watch the sun set.

#therian #therianthrope #otherkin #alterhuman #long post sorry :x

[fictionalslvr]

Part one. Part three.

SYNOPSIS:"Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. You're the only one to be kind with him.

PAIRING: (Based of comic but that's not 100% canon) Simon Riley neighbor x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:3.212k

WARNINGS: Fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) etc.

NOTES:There we go, back to the crying season. I literally cried while writing this one, so i really hope you guys like as much as i did. Remembering, this is the part two of this mini serie. And i HIGHLY recommend to listen to 'happier than ever' by Billie Eilish while reading this.

PREVIOUS PART

It’s been almost a month. Almost a month since Simon appeared at your door, he drinked some coffee with you, had a long talk that showed little things about him. And after he left your door to work, it’s been days since you don’t hear footsteps on the apartment above yours. You can’t help but worry, he said his work was hard, tiring and had big choices. You pace around your house, feeling a weird knot on your stomach, a strange sensation of anxiety consuming you, not seeing his eyes, hot hearing his chuckles, not smelling his unique scent…all of this makes you feel strange, he’s just a neighbor…right? So why are you feeling this way? He’s used to doing this, staying out, working and coming back, he’s fine that’s right. Then why couldn't your heart understand this?

The only thing keeping you calm is your little cat, her fluffy fur on your legs as she brushes herself against you, looking for some caress. You sit down on the couch and sigh, trying to think better and your cat jumps on your lap, purring while your fingers brush her fur gently. It’s almost like she can sense you’re not well at the moment, and tries her best to distract you.

—”You’re a smart kitten, no?” A sad smile flows out, and you can only breathe deep for a moment. You don't know why you’re feeling like this, he’s only your neighbor who’s a bit mysterious, you shouldn’t be worried about him. And yet, your last talk with him made you think all those days about him. He seems like someone who suffered a lot, even if he didn’t tell you what exactly. You can see it, his baggy eyes carrying a sad sparkle on it, like he saw so many things you can’t even imagine. Somehow, you appreciate his bravery, without even telling, you supposed that he suffered, only from his eyes.

He’s always using a balaclava, so there must be a reason for this. Maybe he’s insecure about his face, maybe he just wants to protect his identity for someone, or he just doesn't want people to read his emotions. If the last one is the answer, he’s terribly wrong, because only from his eyes, you could sense how this man carries a lot of weight on his shoulders.

Since when he moved in, you’re caught about his whole figure, everything about him was a mystery, like he can’t really trust anyone. You look around for a while, looking at the pictures on your home, you remember how Simon was staring at them non stop the last time you saw him, his eyes were painful to see, his eyes narrow to the frames as his eyebrows furrowed as your voice called his attention back. Something about family pictures made him perplexed.

It’s weird to say, but damn, you missed him. His raspy voice, his tall figure towering over yours, his short words, his eyes never leaving your face as you talk, he’s a great listener, you could say. Even without knowing much about him, you wanted to see him again, hear his voice, feel his scent, make eye contact, feel this weird human connection you two created quickly. You groan and roll your head back to the couch, staring at the ceiling while your mind don’t stop not even for a second, your mind filled with Simon and everything you noticed about him, like how calloused his hands are, how he seems to be a terrible sleeper, how he looks to hold himself back while he talks, scared he will expose more about his life, how he has a habit of shakes his legs every time, how his eyes don’t stop still, they’re always looking around, as if he’s making sure he’s safe. Every little detail that you could think of, you paid attention to him, like you never did before, you never was this detailed about someone, neither that interested about someone. He has something special, something that curls you up in his hands.

As for Simon? Being on a long mission wasn't that easy. Staying hours awake, the reason why he’s a terrible sleeper, sleeping in uncomfortable tents, thinking only about his objectives all day. It was awful, but, the only thing that reminded him he’s still human, is his friends, his teammates, the only ones he can say some dad jokes sometimes, the only ones who remind him he’s only doing his job, and nothing else, and somehow, that made him feel better. Knowing he’s not alone in this, that he���s not the only one making his hands dirty with blood, the only ones who made him feel less guilty for the blood dripping on his mask. Besides that, sometimes he caught himself thinking of his neighbor, the only one who had the courage to talk to him, that looked him in the eyes, that listened to his short talk, his voice and saw his miserable life. And yet, you don’t even know the whole story, if he did tell you…would you still smile at him? Would you still look him in the eyes? Would you still not be afraid of him? Would you still think he deserves to be loved? Because, he, himself, doesn't think he does. After all he did, all he passed through and lost, he didn't have a chance to be happy and live an ordinary life, he always had to remind how useless he was at protecting his family once, how he was a cowardly kid, how he suffered in dirty hands, how he felt used. Nothing more than a war machine, a big, strong and scary man that everyone frightens, that’s what he is, in his mind. As for you, such a gentle, kind and delicate woman…why would you listen to someone like him? He thinks he doesn’t deserve your kindness.

For now, there he is, stepping back to his apartment, his heavy boots making some noise as he's not even looking at the way he’s doing. It’s always like this when he’s back from a long mission, he felt like he was on automatic. His mask, a bit dirty like his gear, and he had some wounds too. He made his way on the halls, going to the elevator, it’s late, like 4AM.

And a soft voice calls for him before the elevator comes, the creaky wooden door behind him making noise.

—”Simon…?” —It’s your voice, he’s already used to that sweet melody. He doesn’t turn to face you, not wanting to scare you with his actual state.

—”Hello.” —Without noticing, you left a sigh of relief.

—”You’re back. I was worried.” —Your words make him disbelief, he turns to face you, and you can see a mask on his usual balaclava, his eyes widened as his pupils shake.

—”You shouldn’t.”

—”If I could control that. But I couldn't, and I'm happy you’re back." —His eyes fall to your figure, rubbing your eyes as you’re still sleepy, your pajamas from that day, and your voice sounds like honey.

—”What happened to you, Simon?”

—”I was working.”

—’Not this, these wounds…” — Realization crawls up to his mind, you shouldn’t be able to see him like this.

—”Shit.” — He mumbles under his breath and looks away. Your figure walks closer to him, it’s dark to see properly.

—”Please, come in. Let me take care of this for you.”

—”No need, I'm fine, thanks.” —How could he say no to your cute little eyes, looking up and down on his body, looking for every wound. Your fingers go to his arms, gently touching and pulling him inside your apartment. Without a word, he just follows, he could easily get rid of your hands on him, and he didn’t.

You close the door and make him sit on your couch, picking up a med kit in your kitchen, sitting beside him.

—”You’re not going to ask why I'm like this?”

—”Only if you want to say why.” — Your eyes meet him, looking for his approval before you lift up the sleeves of his gear, finding a very bad wound on it, how he wasn’t feeling the pain? He just nods, and you lift his sleeves gently. He loved how caring you are, always searching his approval for everything, even simple things like this. He loves how gentle you were towards a man like him.

—”Then…can we not?”

—”Of course, Simon.”

He always enjoyed how his name would sound in your tongue, in your voice. It made his heart skip a beat everytime. With caution, you clean up his wound, and he doesn't hisses, doesn't frown or groan, he just watches in silence, looking into your eyes all the time. Nothing matters now, not the pain, not the blood, no. Only you, and your kindness.

—”What were you doing awake?”

—”I wasn’t. I heard your footsteps.”

—”How did you know it was mine?”

—”I guessed. You’re the only one who would walk around at this time.” —His dark brown eyes were staring at your face, you looked so concentrated now, even while sleepy like this, you managed to do this. To take care of him.

—”Why are you doing this?”

—”Because I care about you, Simon.”

Those words, it’s been years since he heard it, seem unreal. Why would you care about him? What did he do to deserve such kindness? Is God finally hearing his prays he did when he was young? No, you’re only his neighbor, this is normal…right?

—”Why?”

—"Do i need a reason?" —He only looks away, his head nodding at your words. You were right, you don’t need reasons to do what you’re doing. Though, he really wanted you to have one. He needed you to have a reason to help a man like him.

A comfortable silence creeps in between both, it’s a silence that yells inside, so many questions on both sides, but no one wants to ask it. Simon looks on your window, the curtain flowing and showing the moon bright in the sky, giving him a feeling he never felt before…love, in its truest form, just pure love. Being taken care of like this, he doesn’t even know why he accepted this, normally he would ignore it and go to bed, sleeping only two hours or less. But you, have your gentle fingers wrapping his wound now, gently patching it with a gauze, you had some talent for this, he wondered…have you ever taken care of someone else? Because you seem to be used to this.

—”Well done.” —You mumbles under your breath, your eyelids blink slowly, you’re so sleepy…it’s adorable.

—”Thanks.” —Oh really? Is everything he can mumble after this help? He can’t express anything more than this. Honestly, he didn’t need to, his eyes locked with yours, your body painted with the moonlight and the dark blue sky, and you can see how he feels grateful for you. You smile gently.

—”No need to, I was just worried when I saw you like this.”

Simon sighs, taking off the skull mask on his covered face, leaving only his balaclava as you’re used to.

—”It’s normal for me to get back like this.”

—”With wounds?”

—”Not only on my body.”

—”You know you can’t live like this forever, right?”

—”I always did.”

—”And this will hurt you eventually, Simon. You can’t hide emotions and think everything is okay. They will overflow.”

—”You don’t know me well for this.” —Simon gets up from your couch, his voice getting rougher, and looks at your door. You felt a twist in your guts, he’s worried you might figure him out, because you’re already doing.

—”If you’re being kind only to know my past, forget it. I’m not a storyteller.”

—”Who told you I wanted this? I’m pretty sure it was yourself.” —Now it’s your time to get up and meet his eyes, his eyes can’t lie to you.

—”You’re tricking yourself with this, Simon.”

He hated this, how pretty you look while your skin sparkled with the moonlight, how your eyes made him nowhere to run, how you would read him like a book, even if you two don’t know for a long time.

—”You don’t know me enough to say that.”

—”Being cold won’t keep me away, if that's what you’re trying to do.”

The only thing Simon does is curse under the black silk on his face. He didn’t like to look so predictable, so vulnerable like this. But at the same time, he just wants to be taken care of by you, and only you, no one else. He stays silent for what seems like an eternity, there's nothing else to say. What would he do now? Being cold wasn't going to keep you away, and he knows he will only hurt you, and lose someone like you would be dumb. All of his thoughts were making him dizzy, it was too much, he didn’t feel like this in years, and now it just makes him confused, he doesn't know how to deal with this anymore.

—”Look, Simon, it’s okay. You don’t have to agree with what I say. I just want you to know that even if I don't know you too well, you’re already someone I care about.” —You whispered to him, this tone was enough to bring him back to reality. His heart skips a beat at your words, he didn’t deserve you. At least he doesn’t think so.

—”Do you even realize what you’re saying? I’m a stranger at your house. Aren’t you scared?”

—”Not of you.” —A cute smile spreads on your face, and poor Simon, he feels his legs weaker, his heart melt at the same second.

—”You’re crazy. I can’t understand you.”

He’s being genuine on this, he can’t understand how optimistic you are, how cute, pretty, kind you are. And damn, that hairs of yours, the smell makes him insane, he always tries his best to stay away.

—”And I can't understand you as well, we’re even now.” —Simon can’t help but chuckle in disbelief with your words. Oh God, why couldn’t he have a normal life…by your side if that’s possible?

—”Look, [name], I appreciate the help. I should go now, I already messed up your sleep too much.”

—”Wait…can’t you stay just until i sleep? I can’t go back to sleep alone now.”

—”Uhm…sure.” —He looks away, and you giggle. Quickly, you make your way to the couch again and make yourself comfortable there, laying your body and closing your eyes. He watched every movement, not really wanting to look like a perv or something, he wouldn’t ever want to make you embarrassed.

—”Goodnight, Simon.”

—”Night.” —Simon clears his throat, looking while you find a good position to sleep, you look so peaceful. Maybe having him around makes you feel this way. His eyes are glued to your face, so delicate and calm while you breath slowly, it was an adorable sight, he thought to himself. His thick accent was the last thing you heard before falling asleep, quicker than he thought you would. Simon looks around and sees a blanket on another couch, he takes it and gently puts it above your body, making you nuzzle into it as the cold breeze was a problem your sleeping figure didn’t know it needed help. “How stupid” he thinks to himself, he’s a war criminal, why the hell does he have a soft stop for a person he doesn’t even know the age? His strong arms could rip you apart, since you’re so fragile like this. Correcting himself, he could, but he couldn’t even think of doing it, you’re so delicate, he just wants to protect you, not the contrary. He sighs, and notices he’s been looking at your sleeping figure for a long while now. He walks to your door and holds the handle, but something curls on his legs before he can walk outside, it’s your kitten. That lazy female cat who decided to greet the man on his second visit here, her white and orange fur on his gear.

—”Bloody hell.” — Simon caught himself watching his tone for you, not wanting to wake you up. The little kitten meows while twirling around Simon’s legs, he sighs and rolls his eyes up, one hand holds his mask, the other rubs the cat’s chin with his gloves on, so rough, and yet, bent down to caress your cat.

—”Now…let me leave, lil’one.” — His strong accent keeps there, while he…whispers with your cat. He gets up and opens your wood creaky door with caution, giving a head nod to your cat and closing the door when he steps away.

It’s so hard to leave, to leave that warm, cozy, happy place. To meet his dark and cold home, he can only sigh with the thought. Why is it so hard to leave? Why is his heart throbbing? That’s stupid, he’s not a teenager anymore, he’s a grown ass man that can deal with his feelings, he thinks so. He’s only trying to fool himself into that idea, because he knows when he steps his foot inside his apartment, he will crave for the sound of your voice, your warmth and your damn smile, and mostly, your words. So well chosen like you know exactly what to say to make him fall. You’re clever enough for his rudeness. He knows you will be just below, living your life peacefully and he will get back to his miserable life, alone, with his bad thoughts. If only he was open to his own feelings, he would see how fucked up he is now. Already missing you and wanting to stay by your side. His delusional mind wanders to a life together, you would say him goodbye when he’s out for missions, calls him, send letters, and he would keep a photo of you on his pocket, only so when he’s not motivated, he looked at it and remembers why he’s there, to make you safe. He would come back to your arms and stay beside each other, you would see his face behind that balaclava and smile, knowing the real Simon, while he leaves Ghost on the job.

That’s when he comes back to earth, being on his balcony, his balaclava lifted up a little bit as he smokes, taking a puff of his cigarette and sending it back into the sky with a blow. The breeze makes him shiver even with his gear still on, and the thoughts consume himself.

—"I'm fucked up."— Simon realizes when his thoughts wanders too much. He tosses the cigarette on the floor, stepping on it as his raspy voice talks to himself. Going to bed at 6AM, and not even being able to sleep, because his heart decided to throb about someone he doesn’t even know well, his brain decides to play with his sanity once more. He can’t take this feeling growing inside of him, it’s weird. Simon stares at the ceiling, laying at bed, his hands caressing his chest as he feels pain inside, right on his heart. Not even his patched wound would hurt like this.

What is this feeling...is he...falling in love? You leave him in tatters. And even while he's thinking you're perfect, you still have your problems as well, he's not the only one broken, and he will discover this soon.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x female reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #angst #light angst

[weltato]

Writers of Tumblr, listen up! This has probably been said before but I'mma say it again:

Do you feel like you're procrastinating on your current fic by writing down another one because an idea struck you at 2am? No you're not.

Do you feel like you're procrastinating on your current fic because you've been doing school/uni/job work? No you're not, that stuff is more important than how many socks Deku wears on any given day.

Do you feel like you've been procrastinating on your current fic because you just haven't had the energy and all you want to do is binge YouTube videos and eat ice cream? No, you're not, take care of yourself!

Are you down because you've got three WIPs open and can't think of how to fit some scenes together? Don't bother, just keep writing the fun and interesting scenes.

If writing is a fun hobby for you, don't make your fun hobby into a chore.

If writing is your job, don't turn your job into a chore.

We as humans work better when we're enjoying what we're doing - just think back to when you were in school: what lessons do you remember the most of and which ones did you enjoy?

As Star Trek keeps telling us: time isn't linear, it's relative. So why do we have to write things in linear order? No one ever really told us to do that, school systems just assumed it. They said "write a beginning, middle and end, in that order" because it was the easiest and most streamlined approach.

But this is your fic or your book or your assignment, you don't have to write it that way. Write it in the way that the ideas come.

If the opening is hard, write the big fight at the climax. If the connection is eluding you, write the scenes it's supposed to connect between and see what happens. You'll get there, I believe in you <3

At the end of the day, please enjoy writing! Enjoy reading too! If you have kids or know kids, encourage them to read! Little kids especially have a tendency to copy what older people do, so show them books you love.

Don't feel bad because you haven't updated a fic in months. You've been letting the ideas cook and they just have a really long cooking time. Re-read some stuff and maybe some ideas will come up. Listen to music, watch your shows and films, read other books and fics. Go for a walk, even - you can get inspiration from anything.

WIP owners: I believe in you. You can do this! They might sit there and taunt you, or beg to be finished, but if you can't do it right now then you can't do it right now and you should take a break. Save it, close it, do something else. Come back to it when you're ready.

💜💜💜

#writers on tumblr #writeblr #writblr #writers #fic writer #fanfic writing #fanfic writer #fic writing #book writing #fiction author #author #im tagging everything rn #is this post me? yes. yes it is #i am the procrastinater #procrastination #procrastinating #wips #work in progress #i believe in you all #💜💜💜

[itsbubbleteataro]

Ok I've had this idea for maybe the past what, two weeks? No time like the present to write it so here we go!

My thoughts have been plagued by a little story. Alastor and reader have known each other for a while now, since they were alive. So what happens when the pair find themselves in hell? It will start as Human!Alastor and end up with the hellish Alastor we all know and love. It will be a fem! Reader. Hope that's ok with yall!

Part two

The Radio host and the Reporter

Paring; Human!Alastor x Human!fem!reader

Warnings; Alastor being Alastor, mentions of murder, sexism (I mean come on it's 1920-1930 what do you expect)

Description; As a woman working as a reporter from 1920-1930s was often frowned upon, resulting in works not getting published. In order to get around this, (y/n) writes her stories under a pen name, Roger. One of your stories ends up being covered by New Orleans own radio host, Alastor. Using the fact that you write under a pen name to your advantage, you grow to know him closer. The two of you end up close, however each keeping secrets from each other. You keeping your pen name under wraps as well as the amount of petty crimes you've done to get your story, and him, the fact that he is the bayou butcher. What happens then the pair grow close enough to live together, both find each other in hell? Will the bond grow with their power or will they simply leave each other alone?

New Orleans - 1920

You were standing outside your family's publishing company with a frown on your face. Your own father had rejected another one of your stories claiming that a woman's place was in the home and not in the workplace. With a grumble you kick a rock down the sidewalk as you start your way home, deciding that then and there you will get your father to publish one of your works no matter the cost.

A few months later you were running down the street, some of your hair tucked into a typical paperboy's cap with just enough hair out for you to pass as a man. You wore a pair of khakis, with black dress shoes. You wear a plain dress shirt with suspenders over your shoulders connecting to your pants. A notebook and pen tucked under your arm.

Your shoulder comes into contact with a man with chestnut brown skin, his hair in tight curls as his deep brown eyes look at you with surprise. He wears a suit with a red suit jacket. A pair of glasses are perched on his nose. Shouting an apology over your shoulder at the dapper man you continue on your way running all the way down to your to your father's publishing company. Opening up a hatch on the side of the wall, you quickly sign your notebook with the name "Roger" before ripping the pages out and sending them down the hatch.

With a smile and a sigh you stand up straight, adjusting your notebook and cap as you spin on your heel and make your way back to the home your brother had so kindly bought for you.

Unlocking the door to your little home you push the door open, closing and locking the door behind you. Placing the cap on your coat hanger by the door, you sigh as you kick off your shoes.

You are in your early twenties. With a hum you let your hair tumble down your back. You are quite lucky to live on your own, without any family in the home despite the fact that you are single. Pushing the door to your bedroom open you are quick to strip yourself of your clothes, starting the shower.

With a hum you step into the hot water. Tipping your head back you let the water wash through your hair. You turn around letting the water hit your chest as you scrub shampoo into your scalp.

"Oh my word ain't I just feeling like the bee's knees(1)! And here I thought turning in that story would have me behind the eight ball(2)! I thought I'd have to be the one to hand it in person. Thankfully we had that little shoot installed!"

You almost sing to yourself as you wash the shampoo out of your hair before conditioning your ends. Soon enough you step out of the shower after turning the water off, wearing a towel around your person and your hair.

With a spring in your step you take a seat at your vanity. Unwrapping the towel from around your hair before starting to brush your wet hair.

"I hope that fella I bumped into is alright. I hope he didn't mind that I just blew(3) him off like that."

With that, you set your brush down, picking up a headband to keep your hair out of your face you set to work doing your makeup for the night. You start from your eyes, doing your eyeliner on your top lid, gently placing some black eyeshadow on the outer corner before blending it in towards your inner corner. You open your eyes wide to apply your mascara.

You then tend to your brows, taking care to pluck them before making sure they appear arched and thin. Moving to your cheeks you apply a rosey color to your cheeks, taking care that it is applied in delicate circles. You finally move to your lips, taking care to overdraw your Cupid's bow as you brush a matte red onto your lips.

Smiling at your reflection you stand up and let the towel drop from your figure as you go ahead and adorn your favorite flapper dress, its gold colors serve to make you stand out just enough as it hugs your curves. You then throw on a pair of kitten heels before going off to your favorite speakeasy with a spring in your step as you go celebrate your little personal accomplishment.

A few weeks later you open up the crisp newspaper that had been tossed on your front step by the local paper boy. Much to your surprise, you find that your little story on a local politician who you had exposed for being an abuser was on the front page. My you ends up doing a spit take with your cup of coffee as you ended up beaming with pride.

You had done it, you had gotten your father to publish one of your very own works, even if it was under the pen name "Roger". Plus the feeling of knowing you had made the first page was enough for you to want to keep writing.

So you did.

1921

The night was still young as you sipped your glass of brandy. Your hair was up in a sort of updo as you wore a flapper dress, one that clung to your curves in all the right ways. You sat at the bar, watching the people around you, your keen ears listening in hoping that you would be able to find your next scoop

A shrill voice ripped you from your thoughts.

"Oh Yoo-hoo! (Y/n) darling!"

You turn to go look at the person who had called your name. A familiar short blonde came walking over. A gentleman walking next to her, holding his own drink.

"Oh hello Mimzy. A pleasure to see you tonight"

You pull yourself off the barstool you were seated at in order to give your friend a hug. The alcohol had served to make your already present accent much thicker. The band in the background playing a smooth jazz as you stepped back from the hug. Mimzy had been your friend for the past six months by now, befriending you as you often came here to learn about people, hunting for your next scoop. She knew a little about what you do, but kept it under wraps, happy to supply you with information in exchange for you staying a patron of her establishment.

"Oh (y/n) it's always a pleasure to see you. Oh here, there's someone I'd like you to meet"

Mimzy stepped to the side allowing you to see the gentleman better. He wore a red pinstriped suit with a black dress shirt underneath. A matching red bow tie hang around his neck. Fine black dress pants adorns his long lengthy legs and black dress shoes his feet. His hands are behind his back. He extends a gloved hand for you to shake, so you do.

"(Y/n) this is Alastor, Alastor, (y/n). She's a regular here at my place. Alastor here is a friend of mine, only makes sense for me to want to introduce two friends. Oh-"

A crash catches Mimzy's attention. With an apologetic smile she turns around to go deal with whoever just broke a glass.

You look over at the man, taking in his looks when it hits you. It's the fella you had bumped into on your way to drop off your first story. He had changed some but not too much, the only one you could really tell would be his now pin straight hair.

"My that Mimzy sure is as busy as a bee, wouldn't you agree Cher(4)?"

Alastor asks you as he raises an eyebrow before once again extending his hand.

"I suppose we should humor our shared friend and go speak some. Let me buy you a drink?"

He asked as he motioned his head to an empty table. You take his hand and nod your head, the two of you ending up sitting together at a corner table. You make a quick note of his transatlantic accent that seems to fade to his natural New Orleans accent. You chalk up the ending to him being relaxed due to the drink that remains in his other hand.

"I will admit Alastor, not only do you sound familiar, but your name is to. You don't happen to be a radio host now do you?"

You ask as you slip into your seat, setting your half empty glass down infront of you. Alastor chuckles as he joins you, placing his glass down as well.

"You'd be correct about that. My I am curious how did you ever come to such a conclusion?"

He asks with a smirk playing across his face. You let him know that you've heard him on the radio a few times, much to his delight. You also add in that your father's publishing company had published an article on the up and coming radio host in town.

Unknown to the two of you Mimzy was watching the two of you talk with a smile across her lips. She watched as Alastor's eyes had a slight twinkle in them as the two of you spoke for hours on end, ending only when you had gotten up to leave, declining Alastor's offer to walk you home.

Mimzy leaned over the bar to speak with her bartender,

"Alright John, how much are you gonna give the two before they end up with eachother?"

She asks the bartender with a smirk on her lips, a plan forming in her head

-----------------------------------

"The bee's knees" - the best

"Behind the eight ball" - in a difficult situation

"Blow"/"blew" - to leave

"Cher" - Cajun and creole slang, usually for 'dear'

#hazbin hotel #human alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #x reader #(y/n)

[s0fti3w1tch]

Tentative Devotee AU (TBC Soon)

Leonardo is a Foot trainee, raised and trained by Lieutenant and Brute since he was 9. Life before then is fuzzy at best. — In the past several months, he's been going on his first proper missions, quickly aware of a persistent threat against the Foot Clan: 3 mutant turtles and a human who've foiled them time and time again.

What he wasn't aware of was that they were 4 siblings who never gave up on finding their missing brother.

CONTENT WARNING! This AU will explore: Mourning of family / Mourning of a child (who isn't actually dead, but believed to be). Violence is canon-typical up to the standards of the movie— That is also a reference point for the tone of this AU. There will be cult themes and dips into the topic of cult trauma, alongside family issues.

Main Comic:

Enemies || [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ tbc... ]

Baby Blue || [coming soon]

[TBA]

Minisodes/Mini-Comic:

Donnie's Apology Gift

First Mission Mishaps!

PSAs: Triggering Content, Why Leo will not have a "Dark Side," Cult Parents

More content below the cut! ♥︎

Scrapped/Changed Ideas or Scenes:

"Maybe this is the lowest point of my life" / Severing Ties

Usagi's first design + role

Mona Lisa first design

Reference Sheets:

Leonardo's Room

UPDATED LEO FULL REF

Leo's Outfit Change + Sorta-Timeline

Hand Marking

Scarf

Leo's Guitar

Eyes (outdated)

Nail Polish

Butterfly Charm

Future!TD!Leo

Usagi WIP

Doodles:

More Lore/Story Heavy = ♥︎ / Just More Fun = ☀︎ / 💬 = answer to an ask

Leo Solo!

"Keep it together, Leo"

"What I know about family?"

He/They/Xe of the day! / Speed-Color ☀︎

Scooter Boy! ☀︎

He's Writing Fanfic ☀︎

Guac Baby ☀︎

"Yeah, of course! But also..." ☀︎

Animation Test

No Sleep

[ i was listening to sonic music while drawing this ] ☀︎

disillusionment

Cook :P ☀︎

3 Swords?! ☀︎ 💬

Peepaw'd :) 💬

Head Empty + Leo kinda mad ♥︎ 💬

Blep! 💬

Feelings Down ♥︎💬

Multi POV

TD Spoilers Over Memes [1]

Trust in the Foot ♥︎ 💬

"Keep your brother safe" ♥︎ 💬

Big Sisters ♥︎

Turtle Sister to Turtle Sister 💬

Foot Clan Family

Motorcycle Theft! 💬

Shell Cracks + A Small Moment ♥︎ 💬

Trans Sibs!!! ☀︎ 💬

Hamato Clan

Not Growing With Us ♥︎💬

Recognition? 💬 ♥︎

"Donnie, stay out of this"

Unknown Tension

Protective Older Twin 💬

"Can we be brothers?" 💬

Donnie's hope (colored ver: here)

"Donnie, whatcha got there?" ☀︎

Drawing for Donnie 1

Yōkai Connections

Hueso's First Encounter With Leo 💬

+ All my AU Crossover Content linked here~!

Separated Leo Crossover : Bathtub Arc ☀︎

Preview Comic (Test)

TMNT AU Competition Basketball Saga ☀︎

DOUBLE-HANDED BACKHAND SWING

Nail Bat Recieved

Leo Hype Squad!

No PomPoms

I didn't intend for this AU to be that big, but I realized I did want to give this a go and make at least something. It's my goal to finish this project eventually.

The AU will be told in segments, comics of various points of the story.

Bonus! Miscellaneous info that doesn't play big into this AU but matters enough to me:

Leonardo is transmasculine, uses he/they/xe pronouns and is referred to with primarily masculine terms.

A version of Stan Sakai's Usagi Yojimbo comics exists and it's Leo's second favorite comic series in this AU.

'Tentative Devotee' is the name of the fanfic I was originally going to write. It was just gonna be a 2-shot fic and a way to navigate some feelings as someone who was born and raised in, and eventually left, a cult.

The initial tone/direction of this AU was much different, Leo ending up in the Foot Clan under different circumstance (i.e. direct kidnapping from Lieutenant and Brute). I found this didn't quite work for me.

#Tentative Devotee AU #ROTTMNT Tentative Devotee AU #TD!AU Leonardo #Tentative Devotee Leonardo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt au #Foot!Leonardo #buwan's art #my art #AU Masterpost #I wanted to write for this AU for a while #I don't know how much I'll draw of it but I will #I wanted my go at a potential Foot!Leo AU #and get some feelings outa my system so #here we are now! #hope you like whatever I make of it! #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leonardo fanart #Tentative Devotee Reference Sheet

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

My friend @rainbowcat-writing hit me with the absolute best au idea the other day. The concept? Sun and Moon as Big Magical Lion(-Shapeshifting-Centaur) Creatures that r in love with Y/N, a conservation manager, and absolutely will not stop being big lovey dovey baby meow meows abt it

To copy and paste a good summary from the discord convos last night:

reader works on a conservation team set up in the field, finds Moon wounded, patches him up, keeps coming back to check on him, meets Sun, sun n moon get attached, guess what th two really big scarily smart lions are actually lion,, centaur. creatures and theyve understood everything youve said also they keep calling you their mate and ur pretty sure theyre flirting with u but its “””hard to tell”””

-

sun and moon: our mate :3 tiny human mate. we will make such a good pride with u, who is our mate.

reader: hmmmmm. i think maybe, just maybe,,,,,, they might be exhibiting some courtship behaviors. but i cant be sure if they are or for what reason,, its a mystery

(Vanessa is the security team lead and connects the dots after watching the Strangely Intelligent And Very Big Lions that have been lurking around camp for several weeks leaving ‘gifts’ (pretty flowers, dead animals, one time a twisty-shaped tree branch only bc it looked like something a human would find interesting) one day straight up just grab reader by the back of their shirt and drag them off all while Reader is shouting that they’re fine and it’s not a big deal you’ll be back in like two hours tops and she’s just like “alright yknow what? fuck it. whatever. I don’t even care anymore. so long as they don’t eat the moron they can just go nuts about it” as she pours liquor into her fifth coffee of the day)

#aus to be adored #friends au idea #friends of the babbit #fnaf au #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moon x y/n #lion sun #lion moon #lions in love au #bones of a rabbit #and yes reader is just as dense as usual #maybe even more so considering this is their profession #doodles #sketches #silly fluff #au rambles #rainbowcat-writing #I love this idea so much aaaAAAAAAAAA #concept art #I’m sorry these r so ugly I’m allergic to drawing things coherently lately #cries

[puddle-nerd]

Our Little Family

Summary: The three of you were anticipating the birth of the newest member of the Rongloa family, though you might just have to reassure Spider just a bit.

Prompt #14 for my final submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. Happy Valentine’s Day.

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Recombinant Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Culture, Na’vi Biology, Na’vi Language, Na’vi & Human Interactions, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Fluff and Angst, Spider is worried about the new baby, Spider needs a hug

Author’s Note: Originally, when I had first written this, I made it about Lo’ak’s future progeny with the reader but having to have some of these prompts be re-written after having my portable hard drive smashed during my move, well, Tsu’tey was determined to get more love this holiday season when I sat down to re-writes so we now have a part 3 for our Tsu’tey/Reader pairing for 14 Days of Love. This part’s not as explicit as the last chapter (Eternity) but it does involve details about Na’vi pregnancy, and it is my take on one of the deleted scenes we could have gotten from ATWOW had it not gotten cut. And since we only have the scripts to go off of, I got a little creative.

Na’vi Translation: Kuru – neural queue Muntxatan – husband | male spouse Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä’itan – You are beloved to me (I love you), my son Sa’nu – mum | mom | mommy Sempu – dad | daddy Syor – relax Tsaheylu – neural bond made through the connection of two neural queues

AO3 Link

Part 2

A nearly six-year-old Spider nestled himself into your side and kissed the side of your rounded belly tenderly, beaming up at you as you gently ran your blue fingers through his short braids that he had insisted on having to look like his adopted father, red beads, and all. (Tsu’tey had remained stoic when Spider had initially asked for his long blonde curls to be braided until the Na’vi male had had his son in his lap and then you had noticed a telltale wetness in the corner of one of his golden eyes as he carefully, gently, braided his human son’s blonde locks to match his own.) Your little family had settled into a routine after you and Tsu’tey had been married, Spider sleeping in the shack you and your muntxatan had had built to keep him close to you both. The three of you all ate in there as well as you would have your meals as a family should and you did not want Spider to suffer when the Pandoran air was toxic to him. The metal cabin was situated just outside your and Tsu’tey’s wooden kelku so that there would be no more middle of the night comm calls and rampaging through the forests if Spider was having a really bad nightmare or suddenly fell ill. Or that one very small period of time where he might have wet the bed once or twice. Now, you both could get to your human son in a matter of seconds if he needed you during eclipse. Especially as you had made the permanent switch to your Avatar body just a fortnight before the official wedding.

You enjoyed these moments you had, when it was just you and your little boy; you cherished them very much. You knew it would come to an end too quick and there would come a time when he wouldn’t want to do this as much if at all anymore, so you pulled him tighter against your body and sighed in contentment, until a small cramp made you wince.

“Sa’nu?” Spider suddenly whispered, and by his tone, you knew he wanted to ask a question, one he wasn’t sure you or he would like the answer to.

You looked down at your boy with a warm and loving smile upon your sapphire-colored lips and took a quick breath of air from the little mask hanging around your neck while you cuddled with your son within his oxygen-rich shack. “~Yeah, baby?~” you asked in English as you were a bilingual family and were determined to make sure your son understood both languages. And, you had been playing around with the idea that when your son got a little older, you wanted him to maybe start learning Portuguese in order to honor his birth mother – Paz Socorro’s – heritage, the same way you all made sure to continue to honor Sylwanin’s memory. “~What’s up, buttercup?~”

The five-year-old (almost six, he’d remind you as his birthday drew closer (it was currently forty-three days away and counting)) smiled slightly at the nickname you had given him because of his blonde hair before the grin disappeared once more, his brows creasing somewhat as he pondered how to ask. He spoke in the Na’vi language in response, asking, “When the baby comes… will you love it more than me? Because the baby will be your real child.”

You immediately stiffened, your whip-like tail lashing out in a surge of surprised rage at that innocent query and snapped your head down to look at him so abruptly you might have given yourself whiplash had you still been in your human body. “Miles te Socorro-Rongloa Tsu’tey’itan, why ~the hell~would you ask such a thing?!” You easily manhandled him into your palms, gripping his bare torso and easily holding his small body up in front of you so you could hold him up to eye-level and continue this conversation face to face. “You are most certainly my son! You are most certainly your father’s son! I might not have given birth to you in this body or my human one that I left behind, but you are and always will be ours! Do you not remember the official adoption ceremony we performed in front of the whole clan on your fifth birthday? You are ours by blood!” You referred to the small scar on the palm of his hand that had been placed there by Mo’at before she cut both yours and Tsu’tey’s palms to perform the rite that would officially make Spider theirs in the eyes of the People. Ignoring another cramp, you demanded, “Now, who ~the hell~ put such a terrible thought inside your head?!”

By the way that Spider wouldn’t meet your gaze and the way he fidgeted with the beaded bracelet he had woven for you, you immediately put two and two together and realized he had been eavesdropping on Neytiri or Ateyo, Tsu’tey’s father’s acidic words against all Sky People. Again.

You would have words with either of them one day about their attitude. And while you realized they had reason to hate most Sky People like Spider’s biological parents, your son was not one of them!

“Sa’nu, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad,” Spider immediately pleaded, brown eyes tearing up.

You immediately pulled the boy close, murmuring words of love and reassurance that you were not angry with him, that you loved him unconditionally, and that everything would be alright. With practiced ease, he spread his little legs, his loincloth folding beneath him as he rested his bottom on the top curve of your pregnant belly and you hugged him tight, smothering him in kisses. You were noisily kissing his jaw, his cheek, his forehead, his scalp when the airlock beeped. You didn’t stop laying smooches on the boy as your mate ducked his head as he entered the shack and spotted his family upon the couch. He raised a hairless brow, the corner of his mouth lifting at your overenthusiastic display of affection.

“Your son needs some sempu-love, right now,” you declared just as Spider noticed his father, your face immediately turning into a scowl above the blonde head of beaded braids. “Someone has been putting a nasty bug into his ear that we will love the baby more than him because it will be our ‘real’ baby, Tey.”

The unvoiced threat was clear in your voice.

Tsu’tey plucked Spider up and off of you and tucked the child against his chest and immediately rubbed his cheek all over Spider’s scalp, scenting his son as he sometimes did with you. “What nonsense,” he muttered softly, coming to sit upon the couch beside you, careful of his tail and yours. “You might not remember this as you were about a year and a half old – just after the Great War and before your sa’nu and I were officially courting. Well, someone decided to put one of my braids within his mouth.” You immediately cackled, your happy mood beginning to get restored as you remembered this particular scene. Your muntxatan shot you a look but continued with the story. “And this little boy ate two of my beads.” You snorted, remembering the absolute terror Tsu’tey had experienced, thinking Spider would choke and die

Years afterwards, it was at least a little funny.

Back then, you had been just as frightened for his health.

“Your sempu commanded the scientists to perform an internal exam to make sure you wouldn’t be hurt,” you added, laying your cheek upon Tsu’tey’s shoulder and pulling at a loose thread on Spider’s loincloth. “Luckily, the beads were small enough that you were only a little uncomfortable until you pooped them out.”

You suddenly winced again, as you felt another cramp within your middle, causing your face to twist in discomfort.

“Sa’nu? Are you alright?” Spider asked. You tried to smile in reassurance but another cramp, even harsher than the one before made itself known and you groaned slightly, shifting in discomfort. Your mate frowned at you for a moment before his golden eyes widened and he sat up straight with a widening smile upon his features as you continued to scowl in pain. “Sempu?”

“Your mother will be alright in a little bit,” Tsu’tey declared, “but first, your sibling is coming.” He pressed his comm microphone button and called out, “Suli, do you hear me?”

“~Yeah, brother, what’s up~?” Jake’s voice came back half a minute later, his use of English a surprise as he had been dedicated to speaking the Na’vi language more and more.

With a proud grin upon his lips, Tsu’tey declared, “Spider’s younger sibling has decided to arrive. We need you to watch our eldest, please, while we make our way to the birthing pools.” There was a rude English curse on the other end of the comm unit before Jake agreed and said he would meet the three of them on their way to deliver the baby and that Neytiri was going to grab her mother. With a word of thanks, Spider was placed upon the ground and your muntxatan helped you to your feet, his eagerness and nervousness palpable within the air, his tail flicking back and forth swiftly.

Waddling out of the shack after securing Spider’s mask to his face, Tsu’tey guided you through the village towards the pools where you would deliver your baby’s chrysalis under the guidance of Mo’at, everyone recognizing the pinched look of pain upon your features and offering their congratulations.

Jake and Neytiri met you when you almost arrived, his mother-in-law in tow, the two Sullys looking both harried and excited for the upcoming birth while Mo’at was as calm and collected as she always did. “~C’mere, kid,~” Jake called, scooping up the human child while the baby sling on both his front and his back were laden with wide eyed toddlers, Neytiri’s sling pressing her infant baby to her chest. “You are going to be with us while your mother gives birth to your new sibling – or at least the chrysalis.”

“~I’ll see ya soon, baby boy~,” you told your son in English before reminding him in the Na’vi language once more, “Nga yawne lu oer, oeyä’itan. Understand?”

The little boy nodded and watched as your mate and Mo’at helped you away.

The water was warm upon your skin after your mate helped you out of your clothing before lowering you to sit upon his lap within the spring. Mo’at hummed a song-like prayer to Eywa as you groaned once more, hovering her fingers over the large curve of your belly. Tsu’tey took his kuru and made tsaheylu intertwining the pink tendrils of both black braids together so he could take some of your pain from you. You groaned as a sharper cramp hit you and you reached back, intertwined your fingers with your mate’s. Mo’at helped to ease your legs apart and began to sing her prayer a little louder while Tsu’tey rubbed his cheek against your own in a show of love and an offering of his strength for you. You smiled up at your mate as best as you could and tried to even out your breathing as a wave of pain washed over your senses and made you groan out loud.

“That is it, child. It is time to start pushing,” Mo’at hummed, her fingers still hovering over your belly. “Tsu’tey, help her up into a crouch. It will help ease her pain a little more.”

Your mate did as he had been instructed and he supported your body as you felt the need to push. “Oh, it hurts, Tey,” you whined, clinging to him as you felt your body trying to expel your baby’s chrysalis naturally. He grunted as he felt your pain coming through the bond but grit his teeth and continued to support your weight while you began to push, feeling the imago containing your fetus starting to ease towards your lower slit. He held you as you cried out and worked your inner muscles to force your unborn babe out of your body, the golden cocoon slowly but surely inching its way from your body while your mate took your pain as best as he could and Mo’at prayed to Eywa while making sure you didn’t run into any issues. “I think I want to wait to have another one,” you whined through gritted teeth as you pushed once more and felt your baby finally slide free of your body and into the water below.

Tsu’tey helped to ease you back down into the water and onto his lap. Mo’at gently scooped up the chrysalis and pulled the embryotic chord free of your body along with the afterbirth.

The older woman whispered, “Behold, your baby…” You and your muntxatan gazed upon the amber cocoon containing your unborn child in awe. She presented the fetus to the pair of you, murmuring, “One of you must make Tsaheylu now, to feed and nourish your baby in the last cycle before its birth.” Tsutey and you unconnected your kurus and he carefully took your braid and attached the pink tendrils to your baby’s embryotic chord, the fetus twitching within its casing for a moment before settling once again. You cooed, feeling yourself connecting with your child before glancing up at Tsu’tey to see tears trickling from his own eyes. “~Look at what we did, baby~,” you commented, feeling tears dribbling down your own cheeks. Later that night, when you were able to be brought back to your kelku and your son was brought back to your side, you hugged him tight, kissing his scalp as he beheld his baby sibling. “Is it a boy or a girl?” Spider asked, peering closely at the golden chrysalis. Tsu’tey shrugged and cuddled into his son’s back, replying, “We will find out in a couple of moon cycles when your sibling is ready to break free of this shell. Until then, you will have us to yourself for just a little while longer.”

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 14 February 2024 Word Count: 2,342

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee , @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

Part 2

#𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 #avatar #female reader #recombinant reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey x reader #adopted spider socorro

[lancermylove]

Elegant & Mature MC (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Simeon, Solomon, Barbatos, Asmo with fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: hi! can you do for simeon + solomon + barbatos + asmo with a S/O (preferably fem) who likes to dress like 60's-80's and is elegant and mature :) thx

A/N: Hope you like it!

———————————————

Simeon

Simeon loves how you carry the vintage style with grace and elegance. He compliments your outfits and thinks they reflect your mature and refined personality.

At times, he likes to wear outfits from the 60s-80s just to match your sense and give off a 'we are a couple' feel.

He thinks you love those eras, so Simeon plans dates that match your aesthetic, like trips to antique shops and vintage-themed cafes.

Simeon likes to take photos of you, and while he doesn't share them on social media, he keeps them for his collection. Maybe someday he will make a scrapbook.

Inspired by your love for those eras, Simeon writes you heartfelt letters and poems. He likes to compliment your elegance and maturity, especially in cases where you handle matters with patience.

Solomon

He truly appreciates your mature personality but likes to tease you for it. His playful side perfectly balances your mature side.

The sorcerer is fascinated by your choice of fashion and often asks about the inspiration behind the outfits you wear. He is also curious about why you like fashion from those eras.

He loves to gift you vintage jewelry and accessories that complement your outfits. Solomon once raided your closet just to see what type of outfits you had so he could gift you perfectly matching accessories. But you don't need to know his little secret.

If you allow him, Solomon will use his magic to enhance your outfit. While he doesn't have sewing skills like Barbatos, Solomon will use his magic to create new outfits for you.

He also thinks you are in love with the '60s through the '80s, so he likes to cook dishes from those eras for you as a way to 'step back in time.' Good luck to you.

Barbatos

He appreciates your fashion sense and often helps you care for your vintage clothes, especially clothes with velvet, lace, and leather.

Sometimes, he surprises you with tea parties (assuming you like tea) and dinners that match your sophisticated style.

In his free time, Barbatos likes to look through fashion books from the 60s-80s from the human world. He often surprises you with custom-made vintage-style clothes handmade by him.

Though he doesn't always express it verbally, Barbatos admires your elegant and mature personality. It matches his personality, so he feels connected to you on that level. Moreover, being around you is a breath of fresh air compared to the usual chaos that ensues in Devildom.

Asmo

Asmo adores your fashion sense and refers to you as his muse.

He LOVES to go on shopping sprees with you to find unique vintage pieces be it accessories and apparel.

Your boyfriend posts pictures of you (and with you) on social media to show off your beautiful outfits and style to his followers. You may get modeling offers from fashion houses in Devildom.

Asmo enjoys giving you makeovers and experimenting with vintage makeup and hair. If you let him, he will do your makeup and hair daily (and then post it to his social media accounts).

Most of all, he loves to shower you with compliments.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me simeon #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #om! asmodeus #om! simeon #om! barbatos #om! solomon

[boytoyhalo]

Can we have more of the selkie au please?

are there fantasy books in the lighthouse? Did they see seal!Pac after the coat incident? Is Fit hunting an imaginary poachers on the island?

you absolutely can!!

They don't see Pac - human or seal - for a few days after the incident. During those few days, Fit very much notices the absence of his usual evening journaling buddy, and he's very much not happy about it. He scours the island in his free time looking for traces of whatever poacher is squatting there, but he can't find anything. He also notices Pac's absence, and by the 3rd day he's starting to come to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only logical explanation he can think of for his strange behavior, and the lack or evidence for any other people on the island, is that Pac must be the poacher he's looking for. He doesn't want to believe it, because Pac is so nice and he's always seemed to really like the seals (maybe even more so than him or Ramon) when they've been around them together, but he just doesn't know what else it could possibly be. Then right as he's resigned himself to confronting him about it, and begun to prepare for the ordeal of filing a report against his friend, he finds his furry friend waiting for him on it's usual rocks like nothing happened.

Fit spends a good few minutes just gaping at it, completely frozen - the fucking thing has the gall to look confused, tilting it's head at him like his son wasn't sobbing over it's severed skin just a few days ago. Even after the initial shock passes and he manages to drag himself out of his stupor and onto his own rock, he can't find any words to speak or to write; he just keeps staring at it in complete puzzlement. It stares back at him, it's gaze flicking curiously to the blank page in front of him every so often almost. After what feels like an eternity it huffs and flops over on it's side, seemingly having decided that it would rather nap than continue their stare-off. Fit begins his journal entry in uneasy silence, trying his best to let the scratching of the pencil on the page distract him from the anomaly next to him. Unfortunately, said anomaly doesn't tolerate the cold shoulder for long before snorting offendedly at him.

"What?" Fit raises an eyebrow at it. There's a beat before it snorts again, slapping it's front flippers loudly against the wet rocks. "You- oh, what, you want me to talk to you? Is that it?" It grunts softly. Fit blinks, his mouth opening and closing around words that don't come. "I mean I- I don't really uh. I mean, I'm just kinda speechless right now." And ok, that's an understatement - he feels completely disoriented, his entire world having been flipped on its head. This seal was dead, it had to have been, that was the only possible explanation for the way everything had lined up. Except apparently it wasn't, because the seal was alive and it was looking straight into his eyes with that disturbingly human intelligence shining through its own. As the gears in his head start turning, trying valiantly to come up with something to say, some pieces start to fall into place.

The pelt, Pac's freak-out and subsequent disappearance, the seal acting like someone's lost pet and not a wild predator, Pac having no traceable presence on the island but appearing every day, both of them missing a limb - little dots swimming around in his head, moving too quickly for him to connect, forming a fragment of something that Fit doesn't think he could handle knowing in full. He nearly slips and breaks his neck in his mad scramble off of his perch, startling the seal - or whatever this thing was. He ignores it's concerned cry and backs away slowly, a dizzying dread creeping slowly over him as his attempts to think of any logical explanation for the ever-growing pile of mysteries come up completely empty.

Various half-formed theories run through his mind as he speeds through the short walk back to the cabin: Was the seal Pac's pet? Was it some robotic creation of his? Did he kill it and do some fucked up death magic on it? Was he the seal? Was he a shape shifter, or- or some kind of hypnotist? Had the whole thing just been an illusion? A dream? Was Fit finally going insane?

Yeah, that's gotta be it he thought as he made his way through the door, being sure to close it quietly so as to not wake Ramon. I've finally fucking lost it. There was no way Pac was - whatever it was that Fit's psyche was convinced he was. That seal was a normal, if weirdly friendly seal, and there was a completely rational explanation for everything that Fit was just too dumb to catch onto. Pac was probably just freaked out by the implication of the seal's death, and maybe the pelt had just been an incredibly convincing fake. Yeah, that was it, definitely. Fit pointedly ignored the voices in his head that screamed all of the ways that that didn't make any sense as he stumbled his way through his nightly routine and into bed - it made enough sense that he was fine letting it be not his problem anymore. He was much more interested in getting a good night's sleep than in spiraling into a frenzy over something that probably didn't matter in the slightest

.....Or not. Apparently, whatever part of his brain he didn't have control over greatly overpowered the part that was sane and rational, combined with all of the exhaustion in his body. He sighed as he begrudgingly opened his eyes, staring blankly at the shadows that flickered across his wooden ceiling. He could already tell this was gonna give him hell. He had never been someone who could take it easy, not even before the sounds of gunfire and explosions and the heavy stench of blood-soaked dirt had made themselves a permanent part of his world. This certainly wasn't the first time since that he had questioned his perception of reality; in fact, he was quite familiar with being disconnected from it, the way that it could bend around the most damaged parts of him and twist his mind back into a shape that no longer fit in the present. He sometimes heard gunshots when there was no one to fire them, screaming in his ear while he slept at night - It wasn't far-fetched at all to write this off as the conspiratorial delusions of a soldier taken off the battlefield too late. But, something about it just kept nagging at him, urging him to look deeper even if he couldn't handle it. Finally, after what had to be hours of tossing and turning in his sheets, he fell into an uneasy sleep.

The spiral only pulled at him harder the next morning, as he made his early morning rounds and reports, harder still as he made his way back to the house and made breakfast. By the time he woke up Ramon he was wishing he still had hair on his head just so he could pull it out. His boy, of course, noticed his mood immediately.

"...What? What is it?" Fit asked as the kid stared at him flatly over his scrambled eggs and toast.

"Something is bothering you." Ramon pointed his fork at him. "Tell me." Fit sighed; that was his son, blunt as ever. He briefly contemplated spinning a lie to ease his mind, but wrote it off as soon as he remembered that his baby boy was a genius that, unfortunately, knew him far too well.

"It's nothing, Ramon, don't worry about it. Eat your eggs." Ramon dropped his fork loudly onto the table, not breaking eye contact. He looked unimpressed.

"Fit." There was silence as they stared at each other from across the table, both plates forgotten as they engaged in some sort of psychological battle that Fit felt he had a distinct disadvantage in somehow. After a long few minutes he turned his gaze away with a resigned grunt, knowing from an abundance of experience that there was no use in resisting Ramon's questioning - The kid was determined, and he had a way of getting things out of Fit that he sometimes didn't even want to admit to himself. He swallows a mouthful of his suddenly very bland tasting eggs, trying to think of how to start.

"You wouldn't happen to have any books that talk about seals, would you?" Is what he eventually settles on. Ramon blink at him in confusion, seemingly thrown off by the turn of the conversation. "It's- well, it might be nothing. It's probably nothing, But." He takes a deep breath, admitting to weakness is a difficult task that Fit has always had to push himself greatly to accomplish; he's been trying to work through it for his young boy's sake. "There's just been some stuff happening around here that I can't figure out and that's kinda the only place I can think to start looking, you know what I mean? It's nothing you need to worry about though, I promise." Ramon fiddles with the frayed bauble of his favorite red hat as he hums, thinking.

"I think a couple of the animal encyclopedias that you got me mention them, but nothing too detailed. What's been happening with the seals?" Fit takes another nauseating bite to buy himself time to consider his answer.

"I've just... been thinking about the fur we found," he says carefully, praying that It won't be a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Ramon doesn't seem fazed, only raising his eyebrows a bit as he waits for his father to continue. "I was sure it was from one of those ones that like to hang around here, and we were only seeing five of them for the past few days so I thought - someone must have hunted it, you know? But there's been no one here but us and Richas' parents, and then last night the seal that was missing showed back up and." He cuts off his ramble as he notices the strange look Ramon is giving him. "What? Do you think I'm going crazy or something?"

"Pac said he gave the seal it's skin back, remember?" He says plainly, like it makes complete sense. Fit balks at him, mouth open in disbelief. Ramon had.... Ramon believed that? But he was so smart for a kid his age, he had even called Fit out for pretending it wasn't dead! Had he just.... decided to believe Pac? Was this his way of coping?

"You, uh. What?" He responds eloquently. Ramon looks at him like he's grown a second head, and ok, now Fit is definitely going crazy. Since when does his little boy genius believe that one can simply give a dead animal it's skin back and bring it back to life?

"He gave it back." He draws out every word, as if he's the adult explaining a simple concept to a child. "The seal is fine. Richarlyson said it took Pac on adventures with it to thank him." He sniffs petulantly. "Kinda think he should have invited me, but whatever. It's all ok, see! Just like you said." Fit has no idea what to say, completely lost. This conversation had done nothing but add another layer of headache to the already impressive thorn in his side. He nods slowly, deciding to just let it go for the sake of the little sanity he has left.

"Right, ok. That makes sense, I guess." As far as he's concerned, if Ramon is happy there's no issue. That's what he tells himself at least, and to his credit it is mostly true. Ramon knows better though, and he levels Fit with a look that tells him as much. After a moment he returns his attention to his plate, looking bored with the topic of conversation.

"Richas said Pac is gonna be back to see you today. I'm gonna ask him all about it, you can listen if you want to." Fit startles a bit. Pac was coming back? "And if that doesn't answer your questions, maybe you should try checking all those old journals we found to see if they say anything useful?" Right, the archived journals from previous lighthouse attendants - Fit had completely forgotten about them, locked away as mementos in a storage room at the bottom of the lighthouse itself. He hadn't spared them a thought since he and Ramon had been shown them on their first day on the island. That was as good a place to look as any, he supposed. He makes a mental note to do so later tonight, when he's done with his work for the day.

"Yeah that's a good idea actually, thank you Ramon. You're damn smart, you know that?" Ramon nods easily, and Fit cracks a smile for the first time since his worldview had been upturned the night before. "Anyway, you say Pac is coming back today?" He tries not to sound too eager, though he doesn't think he does very well - he's missed his friend, what could he say? The manual labor was much more grueling without company, he had realized. It had been hard doing it alone again after having gotten used to Pac (and on semi-frequent occasion, Mike's) company over the past few months. Even when he had suspected the other man of being the dreaded poacher, a concept he had now completely written off as too out of character to be reliable, he had been more sad about the possibility of having to turn him in than about the actual poaching - although he definitely had been sad about that too. Ramon looks like he's stifling a laugh.

"That's what Richarlyson said. He said his other parents were making him do it today." Fit doesn't have time to question why Pac apparently needed someone to make him come back after his "adventure" before Ramon is getting up from the table with an exclamation of "done!" and running out to the beach, leaving his dirty dishes to Fit and ignoring as he calls after him, of course.

He finishes cleaning up and gets outside to join him just in time to see Richarlyson running eagerly up to the other boy, Pac following behind him at a much more casual pace. He can't help frombreaking into another smile as he draws closer, black waves dripping wet (as always) and a familiar grin lighting up his face.

"Oi!" He calls out across the remaining distance. Pac wastes no time in calling back to him, speeding up his walk a bit as Richarlyson reaches his target and tackles him into a hug. Fit decides to leave them to their own devices for the moment, setting his own pace towards his approaching friend and meeting him in the middle. "Where have you been?" Pac's smile turns sheepish, and Fit's eyes flick to the way his teeth nervously pull at his lip for a moment before he speaks.

"I was feeling really sick, I think I must have caught something from touching that pelt! I was throwing up and having a- a fever, you know how it is," He looks to Fit almost bashfully, like he's fully aware Fit isn't buying it. Fit, for all he's been agonizing over the possibility of Pac being.... something, suddenly finds that he doesn't really care. The seal is alive, Richarlyson is safe - whatever Pac was doing is his business. He's just happy to have some adult company again. Before he can say as much, not that he would have, Ramon comes running up from behind him, stopping short in front of Pac with elation tangible in his demeanor.

"PAC! Richas says you went on an adventure with the seal who's skin we found, what was it like? TELL ME!" Pac laughs, startled, and crouches down to meet the boy's eyes, one hand coming up to ruffle his hair through his hat.

"Yeah, it was amazing! I gave the seal his fur back and he was like 'oh wow thank you so much! come swim with me!' And he took me to his home in the kelp forest and introduced me to all his fish friends! We even saw some- ah, I forget how you say it in English - The big guys with the claws... LOBSTERS! yeah, we saw some lobsters! And they were fighting each other with SWORDS! Oh it was so cool Ramon, I wish you could have seen it. Hey, maybe I can ask him to take you next time!" Ramon's giggles stop abruptly as he gasps in excitement, eyes lighting up as he begins pleading with Pac to do so. Fit shakes his head fondly.

There's a soft look in Pac's eyes as he speaks animatedly to Ramon, recounting his epic underwater adventures with the dramatic flair of a man who's very used to entertaining children. And yeah, Fit decides as brown eyes stray momentarily to share an amused look with him, none of it matters. He'll look at those journals later to see if there's any mention of seal pelts or strange men appearing out of nowhere, but in the meantime he couldn't care less - he has his work buddy back, his son is happy, the weather is nice and no seals have been harmed.

Maybe he can take it easy, just this once. For now.

#selkie au #fitpac #god dammit fuck this took so long #not editing this shit fuck that you'll take my inconsistent tenses and you'll LIKE IT #asks #also for the record i am probably going to turn this into a multi-chapter fic I just have to. figurre out how to do that lollll #feel free to keep sending asks i'm having so much fun