#{ GOD I had to go back and read that thread on Discord GOD. GOD! ! ! }

[chounaifu]

the cigarette is briefly pulled back from between his lips, arm resting against the railing as he looks back towards the goldenrod skyline, draped in the dusky hues of the setting sun. " one of the only things i haven't forced myself to forget about the time before radio tower was the night before it. "

It was the first time the two of them had returned to Goldenrod together; individually, Proton and Archer frequented the ward for business reasons, but never simultaneously. The Game Corner was still operating at full capacity, which meant that Proton found himself in the city on a monthly basis. Often times, he found his mind wandering to ghosts-- coworkers who had perished on duty on that day. The street of the entertainment district was full of these ghosts. What a coward he was, incapable of looking at them in the eye when he passed by.

There was always enough soju flowing at the izakaya to make the phantoms disappear.

A smoke break on the roof of one of the Rocket-owned buildings in the western part of the city allows the two of them to linger in silence for a while. Traveling together for work purpose didn't necessarily mean that the pair would be spending much time together. Proton had freight for the Game Corner to attend to, while Archer had spent the entire day attending meetings with foreign investors.

Archer breaks the silence, and it causes Proton to stop breathing for a moment, lips parting somewhat, pupils sharpening in surprise.

They had a rule that they agreed upon years ago, an unwritten law that they adhered to without question: we don't talk about what we do, or what we feel, when we're alone.

. . . Of course it's Archer who betrays this creed. It shouldn't shock Proton at this point, not because he is a lawless man, no no, that's far from the truth. He keeps his promises and believes in the structure given to him. But between the two of them, it had always been Archer who turned suggestion into action. How fitting for the man who took up the helm of leadership when they had been abandoned.

Proton's brows furrow, and he huffs through his nostrils, finishing his cigarette and tossing it to the ground, crushing it with his boot. He folds his arms on the railing, turning his head off to the side.

Were they actually about to talk? He swallows, and Proton swears he feels nails slip down his throat.

"-- Y'know, I'm way more of a coward than anybody else," Proton admits quietly, eyes lidding somewhat as he props himself up on an elbow while slouching on the guard rail, slouching with his chin in his hand.

"There was a part of me that wanted to run so fuckin' badly. Not--" he lifts his head and shakes it, still looking away. "Not because I didn't wanna go through with the plan-- but because I knew there was no way back. We were either gonna get the job done, or burn ourselves down tryin'."

And a lot of them did. Proton was prepared to be one of them.

"I wanted to get outta there because," he exhales sharply, taking his hat off and scrubbing a hand through his own hair. Ah man. Nobody's taught him how to speak after muzzling himself so thoroughly.

"Well-- 'cause I wanted to get you outta there too."

A loyal hound dragging his handler away from the fire to prevent an act of self-immolation.

He turns his head and looks at the other man, and he swears he still sees that sorrowful, vulnerable look on his face, drenched in the red light of the radio tower that had flooded their hotel room through the window that night.

"-- You thought we were gonna die too, didn't you?" Proton asks, bringing a thumb up and brushing it against his own lower lip, "That's why we gave in to each other."

Giving in is the most sane way to describe it-- they'd clung to one another in mournful passion with mouthfuls of blood, like beasts struck with starvation. Like terrified lovers who did not want to die with regrets. Though, perhaps the most horrifying thing was not that their lives were at risk-- but that they wordlessly acknowledged a very human emotion that was rooted between the two of them.

That's why the madness he's been struck with has never dissipated.

And so he straightens himself back up somewhat, leaning against the other executive, and slipping an arm around his waist. Proton keeps his head angled to look at him-- thinking back to the way he slipped out of that hotel room like a coward afterwards, instead of ending things the way they had started, with their lips against each other-- he finally returns the kiss.

"We have to go," he speaks up, aware of what time it was. A business contact was meant to meet them in the business car of the Magnet Train back to Saffron.

"Staying in one place for too long is risky."

[silver-cyn]

A fic for the TGCF discord Valentine prompt - as you wish.

Always In My Heart

Read it here on A03.

Xie Lian loved him. 

The thought still struck Hua Cheng in a way he could never quite put into words. Like a blade aimed at his heart only for a kiss to land on his lips instead.

His expression darkened when he remembered how Xie Lian had come to harm on his birthday last year and suffered literal heart pain over him.

(don’t think about the state preceptor's divination, don’t think about Xie Lian going against all of heaven to save him as a child)

Instead, Hua Cheng remembered: 

“I’m very good at bearing pain. If you’re by my side, I can stand it. If you’re gone…it will be unbearable…”

Before those words, Hua Cheng had been cursing his uselessness all over again to protect his beloved. All his power, all his strength and still he’d been helpless. Just like during the battle with the emperor, just like in the fucking temple…

Breathe San Lang. 

Xie Lian’s comforting words grounded him as they always did even in his absence. Hua Cheng took a deep breath, unclenched his fist, and blinked dispassionately at the crescent moons left on his skin. He shook his hand, and they disappeared as if he’d painted over them anew.

The point was, Xie Lian’s words had solidified like a punch to the gut how much he loved Hua Cheng. It was incredible, unbelievable and more than anything Hua Cheng had ever imagined. Every night he thanked his god for his blessings. One might think he meant their heated moments of intimacy where he worshipped Xie Lian’s body all night long. And while that was true, it also included him actually visiting his god's temple to express his gratitude.

Xie Lian knew him to be sincere, but when he'd heard Hua Cheng's actual prayers and his reasons, his face had lit up with overwhelming affection as he tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

Yet really, how could Hua Cheng not do so knowing he was the most blessed creature on this wretched planet to have the love of his beloved after so many centuries?

Every day was a joy, a blessing, a new discovery, another adventure, another moment in their daily life that he cherished and held close to his dead, unbeating heart.

So yes, Hua Cheng was in the honeymoon phase of his relationship with Xie Lian and probably always would be.

With all that said, was it any wonder that he’d initially missed something was off with his beloved?

Hua Cheng blinked, allowing his silver butterflies to reveal Xie Lian’s spiritual power written into the very threads of his clothing. The simple yet heartfelt prayers glowed briefly white beneath his eyes. 

Keep him safe.

Bring him back to me.

Let no harm befall him.

Sweet. Considerate. Nothing to worry about on its own. In fact, Hua Cheng had done the very same for Xie Lian’s robes. (He remembered Xie Lian laughing at Hua Cheng's atrocious handwriting even as he'd peppered kisses over every inch of his face)

But there was more.

“Good to see you, Your Highness. Hua Chengzhu really pulled through for me in a pinch. He’s a good friend,” Pei Ming slapped Hua Cheng’s shoulder, one hundred percent ignoring Hua Cheng’s glare.

“We’re not friends. I did you a favor. You owe me now. That’s all,” Hua Cheng shrugged off his arm and very intentionally moved to Xie Lian’s side. 

“Isn’t that how all good friendships start?” Pei Ming said with a grin.

Xie Lian smiled with bemusement and a clear question at Hua Cheng.

“Just some boring business with Heavenly officials not competent enough to do their jobs without my help,” Hua Cheng said with a pointed look at Pei Ming. 

“Well, it’s not like I can pretend to be ghost bait myself, can I? I —”

“What did you say?” 

The quick shift in tone was so abrupt, it stopped Pei Ming’s words in their tracks. Hua Cheng had been distracted by Xie Lian’s loveliness and had started thinking of ways to whisk him away early from heavenly business. Yet even he was pulled from his musings at the tone of his voice. 

“Your Highness, it was truly nothing. Just a pesky demon with a particular taste for —”

“Ghosts? And you decided that putting my husband in danger was your best option?”

Pei Ming closed his mouth with an audible click. Xie Lian was completely serious, and the steel in his voice made Pei Ming's fingers spasm. He just barely checked the urge to reach for his sword. 

“Your Highness, your Ghost King’s power is near unsurpassed. There was never any danger,” Pei Ming tried to appease to no avail. 

“Oh? If that’s the case, please use yourself to your full capabilities next time before burdening San Lang with your problems. Is that clear?”

Pei Ming nodded automatically. He looked to Hua Cheng but the Ghost King paid him no mind. His attention was solely focused on Xie Lian.

“It won’t happen again, Your Highness,” Pei Ming said with a quick bow and an even quicker exit.

Once Pei Ming was well out of sight, Hua Cheng pulled Xie Lian closer and whispered in his ear about how beautiful he’d looked telling Pei Ming off and how much Hua Cheng wanted to carry him home right now and…

“San Lang!” Xie Lian blushed and buried his face in his hands.

 

But he hadn’t said no. In fact, he’d swept Hua Cheng off his feet and carried him home after rolling the dice. 

Hua Cheng set the robes aside and wandered thoughtfully around the room. His hands brushed the rumpled red sheets of their bed, picked up the tossed aside scroll and calligraphy brush from the floor.

Xie Lian’s calligraphy stared up at him, beautiful as ever, yet with a distinctly vivid it that sent an unconscious shiver down his spine. The aggressive strokes reminded him of another incident.

“San Lang! Watch out!” Xie Lian dropped in front of Hua Cheng and slammed his fist directly into the demon. The combined strength and spiritual power behind it obliterated the enemy completely leaving no trace of it behind except for its last dying scream.

Hua Cheng stared with one raised eyebrow at Xie Lian who turned to him with worry on his face.

“San Lang, are you okay?" He questioned, taking Hua Cheng’s hand to check it thoroughly. Seeing no injuries there, he glided his hands over his arms, his torso while his eyes inspected lower. 

“Gege, I’m fine,” Hua Cheng tried to reassure him but Xie Lian spun him around to check his backside.

After confirming he actually was all right, Xie Lian finally relaxed.

“Good, I’m glad. Sorry to drop in like that. It was sneaking up on you.”

A blatant lie that Hua Cheng didn’t call him out on, too charmed and awed by Xie Lian effectively ending the demon’s life in one punch.

“Actually gege, I think I have some pain here,” Hua Cheng said. Xie Lian’s eyes briefly flashed with fear, but relief and fond exasperation replaced it when he saw Hua Cheng pointing at his lips.

“Ah, sorry San Lang.  I think I have something that can help,” Xie Lian said. No sooner had the words left his mouth then he slotted their mouths together for a kiss. 

 

It was easy to get lost in their kiss. It was easy to block all the grumbling from his Highness' mouthy servants. Yet, in the quiet of their bedroom now, he recalled that Xie Lian's arms, locked around him with immovable strength and equal tenderness, had trembled just the slightest. 

Something was troubling Xie Lian. 

 

***

Something was troubling Xie Lian.

They had just finished sparring in the spacious armory when suddenly Xie Lian let out a sound of distress. 

“Your Highness, what’s wrong?” Feng Xin asked. He turned to Xie Lian after setting his borrowed weapon aside.

“My necklace. I can’t find it,” Xie Lian patted his neck frantically, face bloodless and eyes wide as his fingers came up empty no matter how often he checked his robes and bandages. 

“The one with the ring on the end? Did you take it off before sparring with us?” Mu Qing asked. His sharp eyes were already searching the room for it.

“No, no. I never take it off,” Xie Lian said. He tossed his weapon carelessly aside to frantically search the nearby area.

“Feng Xin, Mu Qing. Please help me find it. It’s a precious gift from San Lang,” Xie Lian said. 

That guy , Mu Qing thought in annoyance, but seeing Xie Lian so unusually upset gave him pause and the words went no further than his mind.  

Instead, Mu Qing exchanged a look with Feng Xin and they nodded at each other. Feng Xin went to check the display of weapons and Mu Qing the other areas of the room Xie Lian had yet to search.

Time passed and still there was no sign of it.

“Your Highness, let’s rest for a moment before we continue our search,” Feng Xin said, patting Xie Lian’s shoulder.

“No, no, I can’t. I have to find it,” Xie Lian said, not even bothering to look up. 

“We’ve spent nearly an incense time looking for it. I have other business to attend to in a few hours that still need preparation. Look, if your little trinket is in here, it’s not going anywhere. The worst case scenario if you can't find it will be asking Hua Cheng to buy you a new one,” Mu Qing said, crossing his arms. 

“I know it's difficult for you to remember sometimes, but let me remind you there are some things money can’t replace,” Xie Lian said coldly.

As soon as the words were said, he gasped and covered his mouth. Mu Qing visibly flinched and Feng Xin’s shocked gaze flitted between the two.

“Mu Qing, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” Xie Lian said, reaching a hand out to his friend. Mu Qing sidestepped him, rolled his shoulders and shrugged it off. 

“Yes you did, but forget it. I’ve said shittier stuff about you before,” Mu Qing said.

“That doesn’t make it okay," Xie Lian said softly. He looked away for a moment, then, turning back to them, he squared his shoulders and gave a small bow.

"Your Highness!" They exclaimed. Feng Xin pulled him up at once, and it was only because he was closer that Mu Qing stopped from doing the same. 

"Please forgive my short temper just now. I truly appreciate the help you provided. My friends, don't trouble yourself anymore over this. If you can, please bear with me a little more, and see yourselves out. I really must find that necklace," Xie Lian said. He tucked his hands into his sleeves, digging his nails into his skin to keep outright panic from overtaking him.

"Xie Lian, what's this really about?" Mu Qing demanded, taking a step closer to him. 

Xie Lian dug his nails deeper into his skin. “I just...I just can’t lose him again.” 

Now that caught Mu Qing’s attention. “What do you mean? Who?”

“San Lang of course. That ring…it’s…”

And both Feng Xin's and Mu Qing’s eyes widened at Xie Lian’s next words.

“How could you be so stupid to lose track of it?” Mu Qing said in disbelief.

"I know. Believe me, I know!"

"Fucking hell! Xie Lian! You need to secure that lock with extra spiritual power. Unbelievable!"

"I said I know, all right! Gods, after everything San Lang and I have been through, how could I --"

“Wait, wait, wait!" Feng Xin interjected.

Both men looked at him.

"Can’t we just ask Crimson Rain to find it? The ring is most likely in this room still. There's no reason he can't find it, right?" Feng Xin pointed out.

“Oh," Xie Lian said, face flushing slightly. He cleared his throat, and his two friends quickly looked away when he scrubbed his eyes and pressed two fingers to his temple.

"San Lang?"

"Why are you saying his name aloud?" Mu Qing grumbled.

"Will you shut up!?!" Feng Xin said, shoving Mu Qing's shoulder. 

***

The ring was found, and Xie Lian’s tension immediately eased once he slipped it around his neck again. He kissed the ring, kissed Hua Cheng, hugged him tightly and then repeated the process all over again much to his friends' dismay. 

Normally Hua Cheng would've basked in delight, but all he felt was concern when he saw Xie Lian's red eyes, pale face and held his trembling body close to his own. 

"Gege, are you --" 

“I'm fine, San Lang! Really!" Xie Lian smiled a far too wide smile at Hua Cheng, eyes closed in near crescent moons. 

"Mu Qing, come with me, please? There’s something I want to get from the kitchen for you before you leave,” Xie Lian said finally releasing Hua Cheng. He stepped over to Mu Qing’s side, not in the least deterred by the look of disgust on Mu Qing’s face.

“What the hell?!? I thought you weren’t mad at me anymore.”

Xie Lian laughed and waved his hands in front of his face.

“I’m not, I’m not. It’s a treat Hua Cheng’s staff made for us today. I think you’ll find it delightful. Take some back for Feng Xin too. Come on.”

Hua Cheng’s eyes followed after the two men. 

“This is because of my ashes?” Hua Cheng asked once the two other men were out of earshot.

Feng Xin nodded awkwardly, rubbing his hand against the back of his neck as he filled Hua Cheng in on the details. 

“What's wrong with him?” Feng Xin asked bluntly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with his Highness,” Hua Cheng said, his tone scathing. Feng Xin's face flushed red, but he didn't back down.

“Don’t be stupid. You know what I mean, and you know you’re not the only one who cares about His Highness. We’re worried,” Feng Xin said, slashing his hand in front of him in frustration.

Hua Cheng turned just enough for Feng Xin to see his profile which, with the eyepatch covering his eye, did an effective job of making his expression even more unreadable. 

“I have some speculations,” Hua Cheng said finally. “And no, I won’t share them. It’s none of your business.” 

Feng Xin was about to open his mouth when Hua Cheng continued.

“Unless he calls for you sooner, come back in three days to see him yourself,” Hua Cheng said and then turned to follow after Xie Lian.  Feng Xin's mouth dropped open, but thankfully Hua Cheng didn't look back. This gave Feng Xin privacy to process that Heaven’s most terrifying threat had, of his own accord, invited them back to his home. 

***

In all the centuries that had passed, Xie Lian had never forgotten the smiling white mask belonging to that faithful black clad youth. The one who’d followed him into the depths of despair and death, and dirtied his hands to fulfil Xie Lian's wish for vengeance. 

The one who’d known him even when he hadn't known himself and at Xie Lian’s lowest moment offered kindness in the form of a small, white flower. 

His heart ached to remember how he’d treated such comfort, stomping that fragile flower into the ground and everything it reminded him of at the time. 

And yet that wasn't the worst of it. 

Xie Lian’s heart pounded in his chest at the sight of that hateful calamity gently caressing the side of Wu Ming’s mask. Nausea rumbled in his stomach and clawed at his throat to see those same fingers tilt Wu Ming's neck to the side, exposing the vulnerable flesh to the blade’s edge in a tender promise of violence.

“Please,” Xie Lian begged. “Don’t hurt him.”

He strained with his all his might to break the chains binding his arms and legs, but it was futile. 

“You said it yourself, Your Highness. He’s already dead.”  That half crying, half-smiling mask turned to address Wu Ming. “Isn’t that right?”

Wu Ming nodded.

Xie Lian couldn't deny his words, he could only repeat his plea.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“It’s all right, your Highness." Dear Wu Ming this time. "To die for you is –”

The sound of the blade slicing through flesh sent visceral pain through Xie Lian's body. It was nothing though compared to the deafening wail of his breaking heart.

“You killed him!”

Finally, that madman was within reach. Xie Lian picked him up by the throat, knocking the other’s mask off in the struggle. When finally the other's face was revealed, it wasn't the face of the past emperor…

 

…but his own. 

“No, Your Highness. We killed him!”

Xie Lian woke up with a gasp.

***

Xie Lian was known by many names.

The fallen prince of Xianle.

The laughingstock of the heavens.

The god of misfortune.

Yet tonight, he was only what he ever truly was – a man, painfully human, weeping in the arms of his beloved over a wrath ghost without a name who made the ultimate sacrifice for him. 

It was a day Xie Lian had vowed never to forget, and never had until that youth returned to him a man, and gave him the most precious gift Xie Lian had ever received.

Heart filled with all his love for Hua Cheng, happiness clinging to every part of him at just being in his presence, let alone being allowed to share a life with him...

…was it any wonder he’d forgotten the day that Wu Ming had died until the day had already passed? Yet some part of him must have remembered and tried to…wanted to…

When Xie Lian's tears eventually dried up, and he'd shared all the words that could be said, Xie Lian sniffled and slumped fully against Hua Cheng.

Hua Cheng tucked Xie Lian as close to him as possible and pulled the blankets over them. Xie Lian eventually fell back asleep wrapped in Hua Cheng's unnatural warmth, heart soothed by every whispered declaration of love that fell from his lips.

***

“San Lang, I’ve caused so much trouble these past few days. I’m sorry,” Xie Lian said. The entire day had been spent with Hua Cheng by his side, pampering and spoiling him much to Xie Lian’s pleasure and Hua Cheng’s delight.

Now evening had come, and they were strolling through the outside corridors of Paradise Manor, enjoying the warm lantern lights and rippling sounds of the waters below the pagoda. In the distance, the raucous noise of Ghost City’s residents made for a warm ambiance that did more to make Xie Lian feel at home than the Heavenly officials ever had. 

“Never gege. You were hurting. I’m only sorry I didn’t figure it out sooner,” Hua Cheng responded, kissing the top of Xie Lian’s head. “As for the others: General Pei won’t hold it against you. And didn’t you already make amends with the Sweeping General?”

At Xie Lian’s thoughtful nod, Hua Cheng hugged him close. Once they pulled apart, they continued walking, Xie Lian twining their fingers together.

“San Lang? I have a request,” Xie Lian said breaking the silence once more. 

“Anything," Hua Cheng said without hesitation, pressing a kiss to their joined hands. 

“Hear me out first," Xie Lian said smiling softly. "I want you to carve another statue of us, but this time...I want it to be from our days together as the White Clothed Calamity and Wu Ming.”

Hua Cheng stopped them at his words and turned to face Xie Lian. Hua Cheng tucked a strand of hair behind Xie Lian's ear, his dark eye watching him carefully.

“Gege, I would do anything for you, but I hate to see you hurt. Why do you want to be reminded of the most painful time of your life?" 

Hua Cheng's concern curled around Xie Lian's aching heart like the softest petals embracing a butterfly. 

“There is pain in remembering, yes, and maybe a small part of me wants that," Xie Lian admitted. "I never want to forget the weight of my past actions, and the price paid for them." 

Sensing Hua Cheng's incoming protest, Xie Lian gently placed a finger over his lips 

"But more than that, so so much more than that, are my feelings of gratitude and awe that my most devoted believer never lost faith in me. You never gave up on me, and even saved me,” Xie Lian said and his smile was so sweet and tender it was a wonder Hua Cheng’s dead heart didn’t come back to life.

“You saved yourself, Your Highness, just like I knew you would. You only needed the opportunity to try again,” Hua Cheng embraced him and Xie Lian clung to him.

“And you gave it to me. I don’t ever want to forget that. Please San Lang,” Xie Lian said staring up at Hua Cheng. "Will you help me honor my most devoted believer?"

And really, what else could Hua Cheng say to that except: 

“As you wish.” 

[alexiethymia]

syncopation

summary:

[Post-SS] Him and her, they hardly have anything in common. But they'll make this off-beat rhythm their own.

You’re intentionally forgetting two words, Lisa points out. He starts at that. Short and angry, she says succinct before pointedly ignoring him and going back to her magazine. He groans. He almost wishes she’d just said the other thing instead.

drabble series about the fifth. things they know and learn about each other.

[read on ao3]

Rose tells him, completely at random, that he sounds like an erratic jazz quartet. Meanwhile, she sounds like a kagura dance. The ringing of the suzu was most prominent, he says. The taiko started weak, while the flutes were merely a breath in the wind. Eventually the beat builds to a crescendo, mixed with the cacophony of cymbals. It should sound discordant but the chime of the bells threaded it all together with an unexpected sweetness.

Shinji waits for Rose to get to the point. He eventually did if you let him. Anyway, he was careful not to interrupt in case he ended up on a tangent about his lieutenant, which happened more often than not.

That is, he says as he finally gets to it, the two of you should sound like a disaster and make my ears bleed.

Shinji nods, even as he frowns. He understands, but, I don’t know how I feel about you comparing her to a dance meant as entertainment for the gods.

Rose smiles in a way that he thinks makes him look profound, but really Shinji thinks it just makes him look like a jackass. Kagura was not just a ceremonial dance for the imperial palace. It started in the rural areas, in the local shrines. It could have nothing at all to do with gods. They could dance for something as simple as celebrating a good harvest.

They simply danced to celebrate life.

Rose and Kensei, in a way, it might have been easier for them. Kensei came back to someone who already worshipped the ground he walked on, enough to tattoo the proof of it onto his face. Rose had no point of comparison, having never had one to begin with. It might have been tough for his new lieutenant, but a relief too that his new captain resembled his old one as much as a crane resembled a fox. There was no chance to reopen old wounds by accident, and a poet and musician fit together perfectly (even as the poet in question vehemently begged to disagree). 

But for him and her who were tied together by a twisted bond, a shadow would always be hanging off their backs. Before, he thought he’d rather Hiyori shave him bald than ever admit to his lieutenant that sometimes when she walked behind him, he’d forget himself and the time, feeling ancient and new all at once. He’d turn and see a flash of brown hair, that straight posture, and a wrong syllable would almost make its escape out of his mouth (wrong not just because of who, but because of how, once, he used to call him, ‘assist’ instead of ‘dye’).

They notice things, the both of them. That frightening perception hidden behind an unassuming appearance. But where he could always tell somehow with him, in a way, perhaps she could be more dangerous because Shinji can’t help but let down his guard around her.

But perhaps that’s all there is to it. The symbol on his back, on her arm, danger yes, but also sacrifice, humility. Perhaps it’s all just a leap of faith, and knowing that there's still so much he doesn't know, where he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, but jumping anyway (again) because he knows that she with her trusty kido net is waiting to catch him at the bottom.

Because while Aizen might have tucked that moment of weakness into his sleeve like a secret knife just waiting to stab him as soon as he turns around, Momo just smiles, sad and sweet, and keeps on talking about more paperwork. He sighs mightily. Bless her but why did his lieutenant have to torture him so?

No glasses shield his gaze from her, refracting light and hiding what’s beneath. Her gaze is open, still open after everything, and perhaps a bit angry as he makes excuses to avoid being chained to his desk. Seriously, how did the captain of the tenth do it?

Again, maybe that’s all there is to it. He entrusts his back to her, even as, or maybe because she’s entrusting her front to him. He doesn’t know what reflections she sees in him. They’re all liars - him, his sword, and him. He sincerely admires her, her capacity to reach out that calloused hand, despite that.

(Eventually, he tells her about everything he first wanted to hide. He’s trying not to be a lie, you see, to reverse his nature. Or maybe, it was because he was more attached to his hair than he thought. Momo tells him, he used to pat my hair too, when I did a good job.

Incredulously, despite everything, that makes him laugh.

He invites her to learn to play the saxophone with him one day.)

[vellichorom]

just some stuff I need to say and I feel like you would understand?seeing as you’ve been posting quite a bit longer than I have?

well uh

i started posting/joined the fandom just over a year ago and i feel as if I’ve kind of missed everything yk?

All of the fun events and threads with people were held just before i joined and now there’s just kinda, nothing

I mean there were one or two events in the past year but compared to all the things a few years ago like the polls, the collabs, i think there was even a game planned at some point with a bunch of peoples narrators, point is ,nowadays there’s barely anything going on and i guess I just feel like i missed out on it all. Even the discord servers I’m in are practically dead now.

(speaking of that one game i mentioned, i am aware it started out as a fic, but I can’t even read that now as I’m pretty sure it got removed to be remade and was never finished, please correct me if I’m wrong. I saw so much cool art for it back in the day and I never had/never will get context for)

I guess I just wish things were as good as they were back then. Maybe more events and threads could be made?but if no one participates/is interested then ,

I don’t know what to do and I feel like I can’t do anything to make things better again

Ah- apologies for going on a tad bit of a rant.

I’ll be going now

🪨 

ahh yes,, the phenomenon all fandoms & resurgences of fandoms go through after a couple years;

the excitement from the initial release BOOMS, communities form as a result, ideas generate at the speed of light- clock 0ut debuts, the fandom's most popular AUs bathe the yellow canvas in red & pink, reblog chains & similar events line the dashboards of dozens, collaborations abound- the fandom peaks for a good while ( & i'd say we had a great run considering we're still Technically a small & considerably obscure fandom ), running rampant, & then - like all good things, it begins to wane & fade out the further we distance from the explosive beginning,

& well, now we're here;

IT'S A BIT SAD, i know. i've stood where you stood in numerous fanbases- HELL, even with the TSP fandom PRIOR to 2022, i would have LOVED to be part of that crowd.

while, admittedly, you can only do so much to rekindle the flames when it comes to things like this, there's NO harm in trying! set up whatever polls & projects you like & give your own spin on that of which you loved / wanted to be apart of before! who is stopping you? a testament to older fandom culture is ALWAYS fun!

& if nobody takes to it? well, that's certainly a risk. but you'll have given it a shot, & that's better than doing nothing at all! doing nothing assures that the ideas you ( & perhaps others ) want to see revitalized will NEVER be so, so- it's true what they say, be the change you want to see in the world; & if you can somehow make it work on your own, parties of one aren't as bad as you'd think! god knows i'm not dancing around in dead fandoms & playing with old trends for anyone else's pleasure but my own

I'LL THROW YOU A BONE THOUGH, as someone who had a big part to play in the production / participation of that particular " fic turned game, " i'm able to provide you plenty context & then some! just drop me a DM & fire away!

but yeah! i get how it is & i completely understand the ache you're feeling now. i wish i had more of a concrete solution to offer beyond " make your own fun regardless, " but hey! if it helps, i'm sure you'll be able to witness the explosive dawn of a new fandom you'll enjoy in the future!

& then you'll understand the horrors i've gone through /silly

[lemonsrosesandlavender]

2024 Writing Year in Review!

Thanks @commander-krios ! I tag… @darkurgetrash @redroomroaving and @purpleasters-inseptember (nvm RED YOU GOT ME FIRST. How dare you! ;) @forget-me-maybe I’m throwing you a tag instead.)

Here we go!

Words posted: 157,651

Words unposted: 5,054 (...approximately, it's hard to count bits that I think might get ripped up and rearranged!)

Total word count: 162,605

Fandoms: Barring a teeny bit of work on an Ambition: A Minuet in Power WIP, BG3 has occupied my days.

Highest Kudos: Planar Tears, at 247 kudos.

Highest One-Shot Hits: Laced Close, my Rolan x Steel Weave Tav corsetry one-shot, at 1,328 hits. You little freaks. He would look amazing tight-laced and moaning about it <3

New things I tried: Scrivener! (Excellent, never going back. Especially good for multi-chapters). Trying different voices and styles. Writing prompts (and some of them have inspired utterly delicious filth, sweetness, or both, so thank you!). Writing sprints (banging). Proper outlining (couldn’t have done this much of Planar Tears without it).

Looking back, it seems like this year was pretty successful in terms of new writing habits I tried!

Fic I took the most time on: Planar Tears. I started at the end of January, and (hilariously) thought I’d be done by October. We’re at the 70% mark now! At a conservative estimate, I’ll say I’ve spent at least 250 hours on it… but the truth is definitely far higher.

Fic I took the least time on:

Short Shorts (And Cold Beer) came to me in a vision and took approximately 3.5-4 hours to write and edit. Same for Nailed! I’m also very proud of both of those fics, which is cool. Sometimes lightning strikes and you just have to sit down and dash* out those words (and credit to Barb for providing the lightning for Nailed!)

* “dashed out” for me is a top speed of 500–600 words written in an hour. I’m a tortoise compared to some on here!

Favourite thing I wrote?

It has to be Planar Tears <3

Favourite Fics I read this year?

I’ve read and rec’d some great fics this year, but I’ll keep it to a top three!

The Northern Bastards series by @graysparrowao3 is just fantastic filth. (Aradin x Rugan, you will love them and you will hate them. As it should be!)

I loved all of the other entries in Volo’s Erotic Library, but my special shout-outs have to go to @darkurgetrash for ruining my life (negative, severe internal pain) with “Discord Daddy Rolan”, @sav-not-tav and her orb-linered Lorroakan x Tav version of My Immortal, and @littlemisscactus 's absolutely heinous Strange Ox x Tav yaoi (kyaaaaaa?!).

And finally, the omelurg trilogy (starting with research methodologies) by weathered_law is just god-tier. Beautifully smutty and absolutely thrumming with affection for these mushroom nerds. It’s wonderful.

writing goals for 2025:

Finish Planar Tears by mid-June! I am feeling the pressure of wrapping up all these plot threads nicely, but I also know it's going to be the most rewarding part of an already very rewarding project, so I'm determined to make it sing.

Publish Fingering the Fist by the end of January, and Minthara x Gale by the end of February.

Return to my original novel now my skills are stronger and the ideas have fermented a bit.

Write freakier, filthier, and hopefully better. I’m always on a quest to improve my skills; if you recommend any great craft books/blogs/videos I'll gladly read them!

new works for 2025:

The omega!Rolan/f!alpha!Tav idea from Barb has been brewing for ages and I had some great thoughts whilst chatting to @ra-scheln about it, so that’s definitely coming at some point. (Once I’ve cleared my other oneshots from the above goals!)

I’m pretty committed to writing a Catrin-POV one- or two-shot I think! I want to write more smut than we have time for in Planar Tears, and I have a pushy-sub-Rolan/top-drop Catrin idea I’d like to explore where he oversteps her boundaries and inveigles her into doing something that he thinks is hot but she thinks is dangerous. I love exploring kink communication and conflict, what’s new ;)

Lennie! Poor Lennie! I have tragically neglected her, but the ideas have been stewing and I really want to get them down. So expect awkward car sex and another steamy spanking soon. <3 (I also need to make an OC reference so I can get some art of her picking Rolan up like the weightlifting hottie she is).

(This whole section is really an ode to the way a good idea will age until it’s ripe enough to write. I love those, because I often find when you DO sit down to write them, they come out quickly, and I can't wait to bash them out once my current queue is done!)

[norbezjones]

Bez Reviews Independent Books 5: The Last Bread Mage

Hey everyone!  I wanna do little reviews/writeups for the independently-published books I find on itch.io, and so, here I am.  I want to review one book every month or two (or quicker, if I’m lucky); it’ll get me reading more, and get authors who often go without feedback some thoughts on their work!  I think it’ll be cool for everyone!

If you want your book reviewed, the only requirement I have is that it’s hosted on itch.io.  Even if itch is just one of many places you can get the book, I want to review books that have a home there at least.  Feel free to get in touch with me with your books—I’m @NorbezJones on Twitter (I refuse to call it X), Bluesky, Pillowfort, Threads, Instagram, and Tumblr; I’m norbez2.0 on Discord.

Looking forward to seeing your books! <3

__________

After I reviewed M. Kirin’s Memory Leak, Kirin ( @maxkirin ) contacted me and asked if I wanted a review copy of another one of their books, The Last Bread Mage!  I said yes, and here we are!  So to make it plain as possible: I was giving a free copy of this book in order to review it.  However, that does not sway my opinion of the book either way, and my opinions are 100% my own.

So, what’s The Last Bread Mage about?  Well, in a fantasy world, the end times have arrived.  A red mage named Fel manages to survive the destruction of his magic school, and he finds a saint named Amara, who insists they must go to The Pinnacle, the center of the world.  Along their journey, they find a knight named Virgen and a thief named Dormi.  The four journey to the center of the world using the help of Fel’s magic, and when they get there, they make a surprising discovery.

There are almost 30 chapters, and between each chapter is a mini-chapter that describes something that ended off the previous chapter and/or will start off the next chapter.  This “something” can be an object, a person, a piece of worldbuilding, anything really.  These mini-chapters are a cool idea and add a lot to making the world feel real.

So, I won’t bury the lead: I liked this book a whole lot.  I really, really love it.  And not because I got it for free—like I said, that does not affect my opinion, and I honestly wish I could go back in time and spend money on this.  I’m going to make this review as in-depth as possible to make up for the fact that barely anybody has read this fucking amazing book.  I have criticisms, obviously, but overall, this book is a 10/10 from me.

It reminded me of the thick sci-fi & fantasy epics I read to pass time in the hospital (to be clear, that is a compliment), immersing myself in deep worlds with rich characters between the pages.  I wish I’d had The Last Bread Mage during my last trip to inpatient.  I’m glad I have it now, at least.

Also, it’s one of those books that the more you read it, the more the meaning of the cover becomes clear & changes.  The last time that happened was with Still Life With Woodpecker, and it was pretty cool to see it happening here.

You might be asking, “Why is it called The Last Bread Mage?”  This is because Fel is the last red mage, and “bread mage” is another name for “red mage” due to the fact that red mages make bread for hungry people.  They basically use their magic to bend the rules of the universe using the three basic components all things are made of: texture, fiber, & substance.  By mixing & matching these basic materials, they can turn one thing into an entirely different thing, like when Fel renders the bars of a cell into bread.  They use up energy when they do that though, so they can’t do it forever—after all, even magic-users are only human.

The magic system in this book is very interesting, and makes for some very unique ways for Fel to get him & his friends out of the perils they end up facing.  It also soon leads to theological implications, because red mages’ magic changes the logic of the universe set by God.  However, God can only “see” the basic components all things are made of, so since a transmuted item retains the same basic materials, in God’s eyes, nothing has changed.  These theological implications are explored in various ways and go in many directions I didn’t expect, like when Fel uses his powers to make him & his friends not exist in the eyes of God.

There are also times where Fel’s powers go awry, though, through no fault of his own.  Basically, the apocalypse occurring in the world is causing the world’s logic to fall apart, drowning continents and making fantastical creatures appear that previously only existed in fiction.  This means that the logic behind Fel’s powers sometimes fails him, such as when he tries to make a doorway for him & Amara to escape down the block from a threat, but when they go through that doorway, they’ve been transported halfway across the world.

By making the story about the logic of the universe and how it can be exploited or make what should go right go wrong, the book carries a consistent throughline throughout the whole thing, even & especially when Fel does his most shocking action near the end of the story.  It’s a very admirable feat.

Speaking of the ending, I do want to talk about that.  If you don’t want to be spoiled, skip to the “SPOILERS END HERE” line.

**SPOILERS START HERE**

When Fel and his friends reach The Pinnacle, they meet a few other folks there—and they meet God.  I wasn’t sure if God was going to end up being real or not, but there it is, fretting as the world comes to an end.  It’s revealed that God made the world in an effort to make order out of chaos, but chaos keeps seeping through, no matter what it does.  It has ended & restarted the world many, many, many times, always bringing back The Chosen Four (Amara & three others named Lumbre, Huesos, & Frio) and The Fated Four (Fel [true name: Felicidad], Virgen [true name: Virtud], Dormi [true name: Domino (a name Dormi finds “fucking stupid”) & Beatrix [true name: Hambre])

Beatrix is a very interesting character.  In this lifetime, she was the butcher in the prison Dormi was locked up in, ruthlessly killing many of Dormi’s friends.  But she regrets being that person, thought she had to make herself into what she now realizes is a monster.  Her & Dormi’s reflection is shown in this passage:

“Dormi and Beatrix‌—‌who had been incredibly lost until this point‌—‌found themselves looking at one another. They thought about the life they’d led and wondered how different things would’ve been had they switched places. It humbled Beatrix, for she had been taught to hate the people of Gritlan, and it scared Dormi, for they were terrified of the butcher they might’ve become.”

The eight of them are always created when a new cycle begins.  Amara remembers every single cycle, every single timeline that has ever existed.  So does God, of course.  And now, it’s time for the world to end for a new cycle to begin.

The Chosen Four all carry pieces of The Worldly Egg, from which a new cycle of the world will hatch.  They take out their pieces, the egg forms—but God doesn’t hatch it.  Instead, God admits to them that it is tired of change, of chaos.  It longs for predictability, and wants this all to end.  It wants this to be the last cycle to ever exist.

Of course, everyone else protests.  So, God asks them all to vote whether this should be the last cycle of the world.  God votes Yea, as it is tired of doing this over & over again.  Everyone else votes, until finally, Fel has to be the tiebreaker. 

But instead of voting, Fel takes the The Worldly Egg and rends it, crunching it down to its most basic materials and absorbing them into himself.  In doing so, Fel absorbs everything existing into himself—the world, his friends, even God—and becomes the new creator of the universe.  The Prince of Absolute Chaos.

He creates a new cycle, brings his friends back.  God is reborn as a child, and as a being who has never had a name, it asks Fel to have his—to be named Felicidad.  Fel says yes, as long as, “[Y]ou must promise me to honor the name by living a life full of joy, laughter, and smiles.  Do you promise?”

The previous God thinks about it—after all, life could be full of “joy, laughter, and smiles” or it can be full of “misery and misfortune”.  In the end, it promises Fel it will uphold the name, and the book ends on that final exchange.

I teared up quite a bit as I read through the ending, and even going back to find quotes for this review made me tear up again.  Saving your friends, saving the world, and even saving God—there’s something very beautiful in that, I think.

I also love how Kirin was able to bring aspects of his Mexican culture into the book, by making all of the true names that of “the first language” within the book’s universe (Spanish).  It’s a nice little touch and I think it’s neat.

**SPOILERS END HERE**

Now for my criticisms.  Like Adrian in Memory Leak, Fel is referred to as “the young man” quite a lot.  Sometimes this happens multiple times in the same paragraph.  This seems to be in an effort to avoid using pronouns instead, but sometimes, it’s better to just say “he”, as someone who also has this problem in eir writing (thanks, OCD [literally, not a figure of speech]!).

That’s basically my only nitpick.  I wish I had more to criticize honestly, but I really don’t.  Good problems to have.

In conclusion, I’ve never been angrier that a book isn’t popular than when I finished this one.  Where are the Tumblr shitposts and multiple pieces of fanart for this book?  I’m so mad lmao!  Also, I imagine I will have that feeling quite a bit as I continue this book review series.

I want to leave off with these words that Amara says to Fel, because I think they’re beautiful:

“‘The only thing worth a damn in this world is being the best versions of ourselves. What does that look like to you, sweet Fel? What does the best version of you look like? It may seem far away, unreachable at the best of times, but you should reach out for this impossible ideal. Be the truest version of yourself. That’s the only thing we can do. Everything else? My dear, everything else is a gamble.’”

So true, bestie.  Amen.

[offtorivendell]

The Weaver's Song

Disclaimer: well I thought I had time to edit this properly and tidy it up, but joke's on me, apparently the entirety of HOFAS has leaked in Portuguese over night. That'll teach me (haha, never) to leave something in my drafts for months. So this may or may not be correct, and YOU might know that, but I'm not going to read the whole thing until I have the original version.

If someone has already posted this theory, I'm sorry!

Spoilers: this contains information from ACOTAR, TOG and CC series books 1 and 2. Please do not discuss spoilers in the comments until after HOFAS has officially been published, or in the reblogs without warning (and ideally a read more option)!

This may be fanciful, but I think I may know what The Weaver was singing about in ACOMAF... it was a metaphor for Prythian history and Void travel.

“There were two sisters, they went playing, To see their father’s ships come sailing … And when they came unto the sea-brim The elder did push the younger in.”

Theia's two daughters, as @silverlinedeyes has posted before, she thinks the second daughter brought Truth-Teller back to Prythian through a rift - though was there a third, unknown sibling, as @wingedblooms and I have theorised?

Playing - playing music? Music as the universal magic/language? Urd’s music?

Whether or not they're also Fionn's daughters, if literal, the ships could be people travelling through the Void/Rift to Midgard… the Feyre, the Nesta, the Elain come to mind, except maybe the Selene, the Eos and the Helios?

The Haldren Sea sounds like it could have a rift/portal in it (similar imagery to the Court of Nightmares/Hewn City). Port/portal?

Did Helena push her younger sister into the rift, to make her return through the Void and save Prythian from the Asteri, per @silverlinedeyes?

If this was then case then Helena knowingly sacrificed herself.

“Sometimes she sank, and sometimes she swam, ’Til her corpse came to the miller’s dam.”

Did she travel through multiple worlds until she reached Prythian, similar to Aelin as the red star? Or was this after returning to Prythian and living her life she then travelled again across the murky realm?

Miller's dam - dam could be their mother? The Mother? Silba?

A dam is also a body of water. The Cauldron?

Miller is one of the oldest human professions - milling grains for bread.

Miller is also a type of moth - moth wings at the HOW library, with their Cauldron/bowl-type statues at the entrance?

What if the Void/Cauldron is the Miller, and Chaos/Cauldron's water is the Dam?

What if the Void/Cauldron is the earth, Chaos/Cauldron's water is the dam, and the Miller is the hypothetical third sibling?

How do the underground waterways and/or the pool of Starlight in the Spring Court fit in?

“But what did he do with her breastbone? He made him a viol to play on. What’d he do with her fingers so small? He made pegs to his viol withall.”

The viol is an instrument; is the language of the universe a song? This would support my idea that Singing is a language of the gods, and Sight/messages from the gods could be a form of Singing.

Breastbone, spells and bonds are threads, viol strings? Pegs tighten/tune the strings. Witchy and sorcery spell vibes, but also hello PUPPET VIBES. Who is/will the Cauldron using as a puppet?

“And what did he do with her nose-ridge? Unto his viol he made a bridge. What did he do with her veins so blue? He made strings to his viol thereto.”

Nose - smells, Azriel can smell the Elucien bond… because it's discordant (theory on the way)? Amren could smell Feysand’s bond, how?

Bridge - I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife. Paint that when we get home. - ACOWAR, chapter 69. Truth-Teller connecting with the Starsword.

"A violin bridge is a maple piece that sits atop the violin and lifts the strings above the fingerboard in a way that allows you to play both single notes and double stops. It transmits the string vibrations to the soundbox (body of the violin)." It's a conduit. Could Carranam be relevant here?

Blue - Azriel's siphons, the veins in Elain's eyes in the tent scene when she Looked for the Suriel. Can she see the threads?

Viols have six strings - three brothers and three sisters?

“What did he do with her eyes so bright? On his viol he set at first light. What did he do with her tongue so rough? ’Twas the new till and it spoke enough.”

Eyes bright - like Elain's when she's in pain? Pain is a link to the divine, do her eyes go bright when she's using her magic?

Eyes at first light - Sight/Singing at dawn? Eos?

First light - firstlight?

To set at something, to go after it… with an instrument playing him through the Void? Someone is after the firstlight and will go after it. The Asteri and Bryce. Mystics? Elain?

Till - as in the soil/gardening? More likely a boat's till/tiller; did Theia's second daughter’s tongue become the rudder that allowed “the Miller” to steer his way through the water/Void/space between… Lightsingers? Mystics? And there were three ships named after Feyre, Nesta and Elain Archeron.

Mor speaks the truth, Elain speaks what she Sees.

“Then bespake the treble string, ‘O yonder is my father the king.’”

“Then bespake the second string, ‘O yonder sits my mother the queen.’”

“Then bespake the strings all three, ‘Yonder is my sister that drowned me.’”

The father/king and mother/queen have been separated, and are in different locations.

Different worlds?

Fionn/the father/king is in Prythian.

Theia/the mother/queen "sits" somewhere else… a hell/Hel realm? Sits on a throne?

The sister/Helena is in Midgard.

I really think that the Weaver was singing to nobody/Feyre about Prythian's ancient history, along with the crossover - and potential instructions on how to navigate the Void to "go to Hel" - all the way back in ACOMAF! When she just happened to be collecting a six pointed star sapphire ring (six strings?) for Rhys?

Will each sister become a magical, Singing tiller for the bat boys' wings (as rudders), guiding and guarding them through the Void? It gives a whole new depth of meaning to Papa Archeron's fleet going down in a storm!

This also fits for Vassien, with Lucien being the magical tiller and Vassa as the firebird. And even possibly More and Emerie, if her wings get healed, or she gets her own Pegasus! Could it parallel the way they had to fly through holes in the Wall back in the OT, before Hybern destroyed it with the Cauldron (which just happens to contain Void)?

Will they be the light in the dark?

SJM you wicked bloody genius, this cannot be a coincidence. 🙏🏻

PLEASE BE VERY CAREFUL NOT TO SPOIL HOFAS FOR OTHERS WITH DISCUSSIONS ABOUT THE LEAKS!

[dezznuggz]

LTLVC WINS $50,000

The groupchat × reader insert

~This will basically be about LTLVC YouTube vid part 4 and how the reader reacts to each groupchat member's elimination.

•(DO NOT READ IF U HAVE NOT SEEN THE VID YET, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS!) There will be use of y/n, reader will go by she/her(sorry) this is my first time so tell me if anything's wrong and pls give me requests. Don't be a silent reader and plz give request...enjoy

<------------------------------------------------------------>

NICK'S ELIMINATION:

We are about a million hours into the challenge and everyone is doing good so far, or that's atleast what they're trying to show. I'm also trying to act off as if I'm not tired by moving around and talking alot. Right now I'm currently eating hot fries while swinging from side to side in my chair. We just finished doing lights off and during lights off I felt like I was losing it mostly when tanner danced as a floating shirt and having nick get mad at us for not being able to be quiet for 5 mins (I was the main person being loud)

"tanner are u still there?" Isaac asks since tanners been quiet, "yea I'm still here, I'm watching the Simpsons look!" Tanner says as he shows us his phone where he was literally watching the Simpsons on Twitter. "Nick?" Isaac moves on to asking Nick since he looks a little too asleep. "Mmm" nick responds to Isaac since he's too sleepy to even respond correctly. "Bro ur barely awake" Isaac tells Nick since he can practically see Nick having on from just a thread, "no I'm just keeping my eyes closed, I'm listening to y'all's conversation.." nick says with his eyes still closed, "bro your actually kidding there's no way your getting sleepy this early its ridiculous" I say to nick cause honestly it is outrageous, "im not sleepy im just bored since im sitting here doing nothing and im fucking cold!" Nick says slightly irritated for being accused of sleeping.

A little bit of time goes by, I'm watching YouTube videos to keep myself entertained, everyone else is talking to each other about God knows what then grunk makes a statement on how Nick looks like Eminem so I take a look at my discord and see Nick with his head down with his hood on. Everyone starts making comments on how he's asleep, then we all turn silent and start whispering to see if Nick responds then suddenly we hear him snoring and all of us practically freak out quietly. "Nick if you don't respond in 10 seconds then I'll remove you for falling asleep first 4 times in a row" Isaac says while whispering. "This is embarrassing" I say very quietly.

10.9.8.7.6.5.4.3.2.1.0...

Isaac then removes nick from the call and all of us were honestly shocked for Nick to fall asleep and get eliminated that early. "Did anyone's else's heart rate like start going up cause mine did" Larry says equally as shocked as everyone, "dude there's actually no way he got out this early, he actually wanted to stay for a long time bro I feel bad" I say since Nick was talking non stop how this year was his year. "That's a new record" tanner says while laughing, "Isaac you have to make the tweet, one down" Larry tells Isaac with tanner still laughing in the back. "He really didn't want to get out yet" yumi says while still shocked, "yea he didn't even get to play lethal company with us" yumi says. Then Larry and Yumi start acting like Nick when he said he wasn't asleep. "He's going to be so mad" I say already knowing how Nick is, "he's probably still asleep bro" grunk says. Nick then joins the call again seeming a little more awake, "hey man wassup" grunk says to nick, then Nick starts talking about how he just had his head down. "Dude you were just sleeping and snoring away" I say and tanner laughs, "you did this to yourself, why'd you do this to yourself, you chose the most comfortable position to sleep in". "You get in the most coziest spots". "Why do you get in the most coziest spots like come on", me, tanner, and grunk start shaming on Nick for practically self sabotaging himself. Nick then says his final goodbyes before leaving the call to sleep while we still have to stay for $50,000.

<------------------------------------------------------------>

GRUNK'S ELIMINATION:

I don't even know how long we've been awake and I don't even remember how long ago yesterday was. After Nick left we had some surprising guests like Santa (who said I was on the naughty list for always being loud and screaming at the boys), and Nick also joined back to the call for a little bit, which we terrorized him for eating almost a dozen donuts. We are doing lights off right now and Larry has a special challenge for us called the black market challenge that he had planned since last year. For the black market challenge we had to listen to men whimpering for SIX WHOLE MINUTES. "That was like cross my heart and hope to die send me to hell now God challenge!" Yumi says after being fully annoyed by the whimper audio, "I'm never participating in the black market challenge ever again" I say after being traumatized, "I'm not gonna lie but that did not feel like 6 minutes, that felt like an hour" tanner says while laughing.

"well I'm going to bed dude, I have to prepare for exams tomorrow" grunk says while sounding sleepy and also a little bit sad. "That's a very mature thing to do grunk, I'm proud of you" I say so grunk doesn't feel fully disappointed in himself for giving up on $50k. Larry then makes a statement on how grunk was a good soldier while Yumi flashbangs himself multiple times while smiling like an insane person. Grunk then explains how he knew he wouldn't have been able to win after hearing Yumi being fully committed to the challenge. "You know what this as a message for everyone to never let a last to leave vc ruin your college" everyone laughs at what I said. "Yes, yes I know but next year imma clear my schedule" grunk says. Everyone says their goodbyes to grunk as he fist bumps his camera and leaves.

"this call looks empty dude" Yumi says as now seeing how far he came, "I'm watching AI Santa clause" tanner says out of the blue "what???" I say while laughing. "Dude I feel bad, ISAAC WHAT THE HELL!" I scream at Isaac, "what did I do?!!" Isaac replies back confused, "I don't know I just need to argue to keep me awake" I say while talking in a much lower and calmer way. "Now I see why you got put on the naughty list" yumi says, I then look at the camera shocked and jokingly hurt, "alright you know what then I'm gonna leave the call" I say while closing my eyes to make it more believable that I'm going to quit, "NO ACTUALLY DONT!" Yumi screams at me to "wake" me up, "yeah that's what I thought keep that same energy" I say and I go back to my phone while Isaac laughs.

<------------------------------------------------------------>

TANNER'S ELIMINATION:

I didn't even bother to keep track of time anymore, at this point I'm army crawling my way to stay awake. Yumi is talking to me but I'm mostly responding to him in a mumbling way or in a short way. Larry takes notice that I'm getting sleepy so he also starts talking to me while trying to make me laugh but as Larry tries talking to me, Yumi ends up being the one responding to Larry while I just zone out and contemplate life. I soon see tanner walk off somewhere to the right but I don't think much of it cause of all people, he's the main one that keeps moving around. "y/n, you good?" Isaac asks me as he sees me being quiet, "I'm straight, I'm Gucci, I'm pure, I'm at my finest right now, if you ask me how good I am right now id tell you I'm good" I say rambling and mumbling on words, "what?!?!" Larry says while laughing at how drained I am right now. "Y/n you can not fall asleep right now! I'm not ready! I'm not there yet!" Yumi yells at me knowing that if I fall asleep then he's gonna want to leave the call. "Woah who said I was falling asleep, did u not just hear how fucking fresh I am right now" I say no longer mumbling, "where's tanner?" Isaac asks, "I think he went to the bathroom I don't know" Larry answers Isaac's question and we continue talking about how Isaac's dad was practically giving us a little nap break, "no cause I remember when I got eliminated the first time, I was going to play it off as a joke" Larry says while trying to keep himself awake, "dude I remember that, I felt so bad but it was so funny" I say while laughing a little. "It's like when you're in class and your feet fall" Yumi says as he acts as if he fell over but got woken up in class, "exactly like that then you gotta check to see what everyone else is doing and they're all reading" I say while laughing starting to get a little more energized. "Is tanner still in the bathroom?" Isaac asks but no one really answers him but instead Yumi makes a new conversation about his PC being bipolar or something.

We then all hear a phone ring and we go quiet, "who are you calling?" I asked the question that Larry and Yumi wanted to ask, "are y'all 100% sure that tanners in the bathroom?" Isaac asks while being a little bit suspicious. "I heard him say he was going to the bathroom". "I didn't hear him say he was going to the bathroom" Yumi and Larry say almost at the same time, "when tanner says he's going to the bathroom, we don't know" laughing a little Knowing that tanner would do something dumb like that. "Imma head downstairs to get a bowl of cereal, you want me to check in tanners room?" I ask Isaac, "yea can you do that please thank you" Isaac responds to me and I head out of my room. I walk into tanners room and although it's dark I can still see the big dark figure laying on tanners bed that so happens to be tanner himself, I let out a quiet giggle and I walk over to his PC. I bring his mic close to my mouth "he's laying on his bed playing angry birds" I say very quietly and I let out a breathy laugh, I then go to tanners bed and I take a picture, after the picture I take his phone and show Yumi and tanner that I have his phone, "he's knocked out cold, he's dead asleep, he's out dude" I say before having tanner leave the call.

I got my bowl of cereal and I walked back into my room to still hear Yumi, Larry, and Isaac talking about tanners elimination, "wait y/n did you take a picture?" Isaac asks me, "oh yeah let me send it to y'all" I say while laughing a little while still remembering how tanner looked while asleep. "No yea I walk in there and he's fucking asleep, I didn't get a good picture of it tho but he only has 2 stars on every level" I say to the people that are still left in the call, "wait what I thought you get 3 stars automatically if you complete the level" Yumi says a little shocked on how much of a noob tanner is at angry birds. "Alright new challenge y/n, we listen to lullaby music while watching the herds till we fall asleep" Larry says while chuckling, "we get tucked in, a binky, and a warm glass of milk" Yumi butts in, "alright I'm down" I say while being sleep deprived.

<------------------------------------------------------------>

LARRY'S ELIMINATION:

I'm already sleep deprived and at this point I'm finding everything funny for some reason and it doesn't make it better when Yumi won't stop talking about something dumb. "What's up with my lighting? What are you talking about? Are you jealous? Are you jealous cause you're poor? Oh you're not gonna get the 50k to help you buy it cause you're poor and you're gonna just stay poor" Yumi rambling to Larry about his lighting and I keep just keeping laughing at absolutely nothing, "oh yeah well you're so rich-" Larry cuts himself off from laughing, "y/n what are you laughing about?!!?" Larry asks while also laughing at me laughing about nothing. "Dude they're both at their breaking point" Isaac says while watching both Larry and I laugh non stop, "they're both losing it" Yumi adds on to what Isaac said.

Isaac then starts asking me why girls like thongs, "dude i don't know I haven't worn those in like ages" I say while calming down from laughing, "she hasn't worn a thong since 100 B.C" Larry says while laughing which caused me to laugh again. "No dude they just feel it different then what we feel" Yumi says but then quickly adds on how Isaac is gay for even thinking that, "no for real tho I think it has something to do with preventing less sweat and not to show our pantie lines" I say while still laughing a little, "oh no yea that too, girls don't like to show their pantie lines, yea I said that" Yumi says..."You did not say anything close to that" Isaac says. Isaac and Yumi start talking about whatever and I just kept zoning out to the point that I was falling asleep so I sat up straight and tried butting into their conversation to hopefully wake me up. "Isaac wake Larry up right now. There's no way he's sleeping, start the count down dude wake him up" Yumi says to Isaac while Isaac tries asking Larry what cuervo meant and he got no response. "No Larry better not be asleep I swear to god-" I say but got cut off by Isaac "wait wait okay 10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1,0" Isaac counts down in a very unenthusiastic way. "KICK HIM! KICK HIM NOW!" Yumi yells at Isaac, who still gave Larry more time to wake up just in case he was trolling, "No dude they got Larry" I say fake crying as if he died. Larry then joins back after Yumi finishes his little celebration for being apart of the last 2, "dude what the fuck happened" I say to Larry, "no here's the thing- oh my God my heart is fucking beating fast!" Larry says and then he explains how him getting eliminated felt unreal and that he's not gonna be a sore loser about it which caused Yumi to compliment Larry for being a good teammate. "Bye Larry cheer for me in your dreams, imma win this for you" I say to Larry before Larry jokingly blows a girly kiss and wave at his camera then leaving.

<------------------------------------------------------------>

THE FINAL 2:

It was just me, Yumi, and Isaac and we were both over it. My strategy simply didn't work but instead back fired at me. I was supposed to talk and argue with everyone so I can stay awake but instead I ended up zoning out almost halfway through which caused me to become even sleepier. "Isaac if you paid me $5000 right now, I'll leave" I say as I'm trying to leave the call with atleast a little bit of money, "no absolutely not" Isaac says while being completely over everything going on, "okay how about $5,000.50¢?" I say still trying to leave the call with just a little bit of money, "ooo you know what that's a good deal I would take it" Yumi agrees with me, "what no, you guys do realize that I have to give the winner 50k while also paying the loser 5k?" Isaac says trying to reason with me and Yumi but we still don't seem to get it and Isaac just gets frustrated.

"on the scale from 1-10 how sleepy are you Yumi?" Isaac asks Yumi so that he too can stay awake, "I would say, I would say, I would say, I don't know, id probably say-". "DUDE WHATS YOUR SCALE AT RIGHT NOW??!!" I scream at Yumi cause him not comprehending is causing me to not comprehend either. "I don't know id say I'm in another planet but I'm not sleepy, like I'm in another planet that higher and better than y'all's planet" Yumi says and it goes silent, "...imma be honest with you, for someone that says they on another planet, you don't look like you're on another planet right now?" I say while laughing a little which caused Yumi to laugh, "no cause y/n laughs at her own jokes" Yumi says while laughing, "honestly if y/n could date herself she would, wouldn't you y/n?" Isaac asks "if I could fuck myself I would trust me" I say without a single thought in my brain and all Isaac and Yumi did was laugh.

"okay one of y'all has to be on the verge to quit and I'm taking a bet that it's y/n" Isaac says in hopes of riling y/n up so she can stay awake, "how'd you know, Isaac's so smart, you're a smart guy Isaac" I say in a sarcastic tone cause I am on the verge of quiting, "Isaac you know y/n got invited to a Christmas party yesterday" Yumi says since isaac conversation plan didn't work out, "YEAHHHHHH" i say in a very cheer tone, "you're going for the food aren't you?" Isaac says, "yeah" I say back to my calm self while looking at my phone and Yumi laughs.

I'm looking at my phone and my mouth literally hangs open and my head starts feeling like 50 pounds so I nod off for a little bit since Yumi and Isaac are talking so a couple seconds of sleep wouldn't hurt. I feel relaxed, I feel better, I feel fresh, I feel happy, I feel...wait...why's everything quiet? I open my eyes to see my PC on the general chat and my heart completely falls to my ass. I panic and I see that Isaac and Yumi are still in the call so I quickly join. "Y/N WHAT HAPPENED?!!??" Isaac screams in my ear and I'm still shocked like I don't even know what's going on, "dude I swear I wasn't even asleep!" I say as I have a shocked face the whole time and no longer feeling sleepy, "I was actually rooting for you y/n, I'm so disappointed" Isaac says while Yumi cheers and laughs. "IM JUST AS SHOCKED AS YOU ISAAC WHAT THE FUCKKK" I say also disappointed in myself cause I came so far and I never won any of the LTLVC, I thought this year was also going to be my year. Yumi and I have calmed down but Yumi is still chatty and hyped up at the fact that he won $50,000, "Isaac...am I still gonna get the $5,000.50¢?" I ask politely, "no get the fuck out the call, congrats on winning Yumi, imma go to sleep leave me alone" Isaac says as he disconnects me and Yumi and I headed to sleep Knowing that I could've won half a million.

<------------------------------------------------------------>

[petra-creat0r]

Deltarune: Fool's Fate Ch. 1 Secret Boss

So I've decided I should probably post refs of my Fool's Fate bosses since I did that for my prediction bosses and since I'm including them in my secret boss reactions, it'd probably be useful that people know who the heck they are.

Though Dorothy and her backstory has been mentioned on my side blog @apupp3tw0-strings as Chicago learned about it in real time, and I've mentioned her a few times here, I'm betting most of you don't really know about her as I haven't actually posted her backstory here. So here you go.

(Dorothy's battle theme by my wonderful friend @kierangecko)

Her name isn't intentionally a Wizard of Oz reference (though looking at her outfit during her height I can see it), but instead as it means "Gift of God", which will make more sense when I get into her backstory and how she met the "strange someone". Basically, her name, her whole identity, was a gift from what could be considered A God. Perhaps more of the eldritch variety to Darkners but still a God.

Her text quirk is speaking in clips stitched together from those she's heard, aka other dialogue from Undertale, Deltarune, or Fool's Fate for the purposes of me playing her in an RP I've been running on my Discord server. She has no voice of her own, and can only mimic the voice's she's heard.

I love Dorothy. She snowballed from me getting the idea of a mannequin or something without identity or purpose that was given one by the "strange someone". I also think she'll hold a place in my heart as the first secret boss I created straight up. Before even thinking of making Bitsy, Elymas, or Veratus. Back when I was in the mind set of "I don't want too make prediction bosses because I'll get it wrong when the chapters come out and it'll be ruined." Now I have had character development and said "Fuck it. I'm making my own take, this was gonna diverge from canon anyways."

I still need to finish my Dorothy plush.

Backstory under the cut

She used to be nothing but a blank doll. An empty face with no name, no identity, no purpose. A blank slate longing to be filled. Her Light World counter part is a DIY doll kit that was meant to be a Gyftmas gift for Broadway, but was left up in the attic and forgotten about.

No one paid any mind to her. Barely anyone knew she existed as she wandered aimlessly around the Dusty Plains. Her only companion being the snake fortune teller who'd set up shop out in the Plains. Jeanie would listen to the doll even without her saying a word, and read her fates many time. Each time the snake assuring the doll that her future held infinite potential.

On day though, the doll came across a man. A strange someone who offered to lend her a hand. He gave her an identity. A face, a voice, a name. Dorothy. And after pulling the last thread to give her a mouth, the man gave Dorothy a purpose. Live the life she wished to lead, but come to him if she needed anymore help. And so she did. The first step in the man's new plan.

With the man's help, Dorothy was finally recognized and rose in popularity. Eventually joining the Upper Choir, the governing force over the Land of Attica. Dorothy couldn't be happier. People knew her. People talked to her. People... listened to her. It was around this time that the man enacted the next phase of his plan. Showing Dorothy the truth of this world. Revealing that they were all nothing more than a bunch of dusted toys and clothes up in an attic. The Lightners they all worshiped weren't coming back for them.

The rest of the Choir didn't like it when Dorothy started spreading this new gospel. They exiled her back to the Dusty Plains. This outraged the ragdoll. They refused to see the truth. They were blind. All of them were blind, blind fools. In her exile, Dorothy was driven to violence, ripping the Plains apart with pins and needles, attempting to puppeteer those who refused to see the truth right in front of them. She had to be stopped.

And to think that her only friend since the beginning was the one to call the Choir Guard.

Dorothy was locked away for quote "Your own and every one else's safety." She yelled and screamed at that stupid Magician as he walked back to the elevator, leaving Dorothy all alone in a padded cell forever.

... That was until a possessed puppet and his companions happened to find their way down.

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

Her story is meant to mirror/parallel Jevil's in a way, though it also takes a bit from Spamton's. I think I've gotten better at writing secret boss backstory's since making my prediction bosses, but I still like Dorothy and her backstory. She and Jevil are friends post Fool's Fate Chapter 1.

[oasisofgalaxies]

Ok I’m going to paste a lot of Dirk Thoughts™️ below the cut here- Disclaimer these thoughts are specifically abt the Dirk that I play over on @timaeus-tumbled who is displaced in the Pokemon universe. HOWEVER these r also just. General thoughts I have abt him.

Also second disclaimer. The flow may sound weird here bc these r originally messages I sent on discord! So ye :]

Argh I just. Under all the layers of bluffing and feigned chill is a 17 year old who’s scared out of his mind and has been pretending for the past few months that he isn’t one wrong move away from having a mental breakdown.

He’s still so confident that he has things under control. Not other people’s shit, he’s trying to let go of that part, but he’s still caught up in his own strings. So much that he knows he’s hanging on by a thread, but willfully ignores it. Because he’s Dirk motherfucking Strider. What’s he going to do? Cry? Unlikely.

Eventually something has to give. Eventually something has to break. But it hasn’t yet, so keep pushing forward. Even though you can feel your heart rotting from the inside out.

Have you ever seen the wood from a very decayed tree? How the core is blackened and wet, the wood pulp sloughing off in chunks. In some places it gives to slight pressure, your touch able to invade the splintered mush that was once something alive.

There is something bad happening inside of you.

The issue with having cool abstract thoughts and connections is that you have to try and make those make sense to others- How do I convey in a way that makes sense that Dirk’s emotional state is the equivalent of hollowing out a pumpkin with your bare hands but instead of getting the normal guts you get half-broken down wood pulp that’s soft and splintered, mushy, and just a bit like tar.

———

I think it’s safe to say that Dirk is mega pining for Jake. Everything reminds him of Jake and it’s like getting stabbed every single time.

Anyways. Dirkjake. It makes me so stupidly unwell.

God. Is there a timeline where they work out. Where they’re happy.

Well actually post canon in the little. Idk. Snapchat thing? Idk what to call it. The silly little slice of life things we get a peak at . They do appear to be happy in the Consort Kingdom.

So. Yea,, maybe they made amends after all. And they’re happy

My Dirk here has actually gone and read Homestuck so he would have seen that part. What he could have had, what he was so close to having. What was once only through a doorway is now countless universes away.

He was so, so, so close. He was right there.

And it still wasn’t enough.

I think that definitely cemented the idea that he’s wholly undeserving of a good ending in his mind. Why else would he be so abruptly ripped away at the last threshold? Of course he has to be unworthy, unfit. Undeserving.

Meanwhile, there is an empty throne in the Consort Kingdom. And a young man sits alone, left with only questions and a gaping wound in his heart.

There one minute and gone the next. No one will have an answer for where he went. How he disappeared. No closure. No reason. He’s just gone.

How long did his friends search for him? How far did they go to find someone who wasn’t there? And when did they finally give up?

Dirk seeing these two drawings and having to use all of his strength not to put himself out of his misery right then and there

Like. God. I’m going to slam my head into a brick wall. Am I getting the point across. Do you understand the depths of Dirk’s pure fucking misery rn.

It’s an actual miracle he is still functional.

Like. Good god. By all means he should be catatonic and it would be well within his rights

He is actively destroying himself as we speak

Wish we saw Dirk having more breakdowns (wow, what a statement.) bc I’m not entirely sure what one would look like for him. We have the Hal confrontation scene but I feel like that’s a very specific view yknow

Like. What happens when the straw finally breaks his back. Because at some point he’s going to crack. He can’t keep this up forever, he’s only human

I don’t know if it’ll be loud, chaotic, screaming and pleading, or a silent sort of defeat. All the light goes out of his eyes and he just turns into a husk of himself

[anmylica]

Take Me Out (After the Ball Game)

Since @winterbaby89 and @sotangledupinit wanted baseball pickup lines in the pitch thread of the CSMM Discord, I decided to give it to her. This is shameless flirting indulgence, so you’ve been warned! I have ideas percolating for a follow-up, but for now, this is going to be a one shot.

As always, let me know what you think!

Tagging the Usual Crew:

@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @sotangledupinit @tiganasummertree @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @whimsicallyenchantedrose @deckerstarblanche

Want to be added? Send me an ask!

Read on AO3

Read on FFN

Emma rolled her eyes as she tried to hide that she was checking a text from her brother during the meeting with the mayor of Boston bugging her about going to a Red Sox game with him and Mary Margaret, his wife. Emma hated baseball with a passion, and she didn’t see why David would want her to go to a game. She didn’t get to respond to his text, opting instead for ignoring it when the mayor’s secretary handed her a folder. She thanked the woman and turned her attention back onto the words being spoken at her.

Emma groaned softly and sank into the cushy chair in the mayor’s office as the mayor of Boston, Regina Mills, continued to drone on and on about the importance of improving the community’s impressions of the Suffolk County Sheriff’s Office and how Emma, as the sheriff, was supposed to do that.  Regina ignored her dramatics, well used to them by now after the last couple of years working with the blonde, and she continued her lecture, knowing that Emma was hearing every word.  All Emma could think about was the time spent away from investigations, not that that seemed to matter in terms of the “Evil Queen’s” (as Regina was fondly and not-so-fondly, depending on who was talking, referred to as) priorities.  Once Regina got something on her mind, there was no stopping her.

“And there’s the community fundraiser for the Children’s Hospital in two weeks that you need to make an appearance at.  We should be a united front, and definitely bring Henry,” Regina said, talking at her usual mile-a-minute pace, barely glancing up at Emma from her papers as she did so.  When she did manage to glimpse up at the blonde sitting across from her desk, she frowned at Emma’s lack of attention.  “Are you listening to me?” Regina called sharply.

Emma jumped.  “Oh!  Uh, yeah, I’ve already made sure I have Henry that weekend.”

Regina narrowed her eyes before nodding.  “Then there’s the matter of the first pitch and the Red Sox game this weekend.”

“What?  What ‘first pitch’?”  Emma asked in confusion, not recalling Regina ever having mentioned that before this.  

“In honor of Law Enforcement Appreciation Day, the Red Sox have kindly agreed to have one of the members of the Sheriff’s Office throw the first pitch.  We wanted someone who looks good in casual clothes with the Sheriff’s Office logo to go out and show that the office cares about the community, and what better way to do that than show up at a baseball game?”

Emma blinked owlishly.  “Why am I just now hearing about this?”

Regina waved her hand.  “Because your brother, David, backed out at the last minute.”

David was a deputy in the department that she worked closely with.  Emma had been elected to the position of sheriff a couple years earlier, and had beaten out her competition very narrowly.  David had been a large part of the reason why she had won it.  He had campaigned very hard for her to beat Sydney Glass, a man who ran a local small newspaper and who had never served in law enforcement a day in his life.  She owed her position to him and all the campaigning he had helped her do.

“Why would he back out?  He’s the biggest baseball nut I know.”  Emma frowned, thinking about how unfair the short notice was.  What if she had already had plans?  Thank God Henry was going to be spending the weekend at Neal and Tamara’s.  She’d hate to have to cancel any plans with him, though the kid was likely going to be mad he had missed the opportunity to go with her.  Other than David, he was the biggest Red Sox fan in their family (something he did not get from her).

Regina waved off the question.  “Something to do with Mary Margaret needing him for a fundraiser.  I don’t know; I didn’t ask many questions.  Since you’re sheriff, and you’re approaching reelection in another year, this will be a great time for you to foster some good will from the people.  Shake some hands and kiss some babies type of good will.”

Emma raised an eyebrow.  “Gee, Regina, I didn’t know you cared,” she responded drolly.  

“I don’t,” replied Regina loftily.  “I just don’t want to work with someone even more clueless than you.”

Emma rolled her eyes.  Thanks for that, Evil Queen.  “So this weekend?”

“The game is Saturday at 3.  You’ll need to be there at 1 for pictures and interviews.  And you’ll meet the players and organization as well.”

Emma sighed.  “I’ll be there.”  The meeting reached its conclusion shortly after the details were finalized, but Emma couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was going to happen this Saturday, as reluctant as she was about the whole affair.

Emma’s feeling was right, and it hit her quite soon after arriving at Fenway Park Saturday at 1 in the afternoon.  She arrived, ready to take some photos, do some interviewing, and walk her through the first pitch mechanics, feeling as if she was constantly looking over her shoulder.  She was so nervous for this event that she was seriously regretting not convincing David to do this after all.

Emma talked to the owner of the Red Sox, and then mingled with the managers.  She met so many people she couldn’t even have said any of their names. The one person Emma remembered the name of was Robin Loxley.  Robin was the General Manager of the team, and he immediately set Emma at ease.  He had been the one to set up the opportunity along with the PR manager of the team, Belle French.  He was great, very friendly and outgoing, and Emma decided she liked him a lot.  Emma had actually worked with Belle before on organizing security and managing traffic after games, and they had become fast friends all those years ago.  They were there during the interviews with local news and Emma felt grateful to have their support.  The interviews went by like a breeze, and Emma walked down onto the field with confidence in herself and her abilities.  If she could get through the interviews, she could get through anything.

Then she was brought into the locker room to meet the players.  Emma felt a bit exposed meeting the team like this, but Robin assured her that it would be fine and that all the players would be very welcoming.  Emma came to find that some were definitely more welcoming than others.

The moment she stepped foot in the locker room after Robin introduced her to the men already in uniform and lounging around the room, one of the players wolf whistled.  Emma whipped her head around, quickly locating the source.

“Come back to my place, and I’ll show you what a grand slam looks like,” he said with a smirk that he clearly felt was appealing but just made Emma a little nauseous.

“With lines like that, you’re more likely to strike out,” Emma countered, rolling her eyes.

“Whale!” Robin hissed.  “This is Emma Swan, the sheriff!  You might show a bit more decorum?”

Instead of the decorum Robin mentioned, Whale’s eyes lit up with leering mischief.  “Oh, you can cuff me anytime, baby.”

“The only cuffs you’ll experience are the ones that will land you behind bars.”  Emma rolled her eyes as the rest of the team howled with laughter.

Robin’s face turned a deep shade of red.  “My apologies,” he said quietly to Emma.  “Ignore him.  That’s mostly what we do.”

Emma nodded in understanding, turning her attention to the rest of the players in the room.  She learned that she would be working briefly with Jefferson Hatter, since he was to be the starting pitcher today.  

“I promise, I’ll help you throw the ball without making a fool of yourself,” Jefferson smiled politely, which Emma returned.

Robin introduced her to Leroy Miner (who sneered at her, though Robin assured her he did that to everyone), Will Scarlet (a sarcastic little shit that Emma wasn’t sure she liked), and the rest of the outfielders, Graham Humbert (the left fielder who was definitely easy on the eyes), Phillip Ormin (the center fielder who she knew was married to Aurora Ormin, who worked with Mary Margaret as a teacher, and who she already had met), and Eric Fisher (the right fielder who merely nodded but said nothing else upon their introduction) next.  Emma greeted all of them with a polite smile and a greeting, though she might have considered something a little more to Graham had the next two people on the team not walked in late.

“And where are the Jones brothers?” Robin asked with some concern.  No one answered him, and it turned out they didn’t need to because the two missing players had just arrived.

The door opened as if on cue and in walked two men.  Emma turned and surveyed them.  The first through the door was a bit taller and broader than the second, with curly dark hair cropped short and pretty light blue eyes.  The second was a bit darker in complexion and hair color, though his jet black hair was straight and his blue eyes were a bit deeper and he had a dusting of ginger scruff that looked as if he spent a good deal of time grooming just right.  The moment Emma made eye contact with the second man, her heart stopped and then resumed its beating faster than it had ever done.

“Ah, here they are!  Sheriff, this is Liam Jones, our second baseman, and Killian Jones, our catcher.  Killian will be who you throw the first pitch to today.”

Liam gave her a polite smile and a nod as he greeted her, but otherwise went to his locker and grabbed his glove.  Killian smirked as his eyes roved over her figure, causing her to flush under his scrutiny.  

“I’d be delighted to be on your mound,” Killian murmured, taking her hand in his and bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to its back, his dark fair falling into his eyes as he did so.

Emma frowned.  “I thought pitchers were the ones to take the mound, not catchers,” she said before she could stop herself.  Dammit she did not mean to say that.

Killian smirked in obvious delight, seemingly not offended by her banality in the slightest.  “Oh, I think I’m going to have fun with you, lass.”  His voice wrapped around the words like warm honey, and Emma fluttered her eyelashes as the implication of his words sunk in.

“Alright, let’s go, you lot!” Robin called, interrupting their moment of connection.  Emma tore her eyes from Killian’s and looked around at everyone else.  She noticed that Liam was scowling in their direction, though the reasons why he would do that eluded her.  “To your warm up stations!” Robin ordered.  

The team all filed out, with Killian lingering until it was only he, Emma, and Robin in the room.  Liam gave his brother and her a dark look on his way out but said nothing.  Killian left the room in front of them, pulling his eyes from Emma’s at the very last moment before sauntering onto the field.  Emma and Robin exited, Emma’s eyes glued to Killian’s form as they followed him.  Once on the field, the two walked to the pitcher’s mound where the starting pitcher, Jefferson Hatter, was waiting.

The three of them discussed how the first pitch was going to go.  Killian took his spot behind home plate, squatted down, and caught the pitch Jefferson threw.  Once Emma and Robin reached the mound, they stood and watched.  Jefferson seemed cool and unrattled, though Robin murmured to Emma that he frequently went off the rails a bit as the game unfolded (which was why he was their starting pitcher and not a closer). 

Emma nodded and smiled, responding at all the right times, but she was only slightly paying attention. Her eyes followed Killian Jones’ every move. For the most part, he looked like he was in the zone, completely focused on his warm up routine with Jefferson, but Emma caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye many times. 

Every time he squatted down into position, he threw a slight smirk her way, as if he was hoping she’d be looking at him in his “seductive” catcher’s stance.  (Emma was not going to admit that she was enjoying the view. Not in a million years.)

After Jefferson and Killian had thrown back and forth, Robin interrupted and took the ball that Killian had just thrown to the starting pitcher.  He turned and handed it to Emma.

“Now, I’m going to have you throw a few from this spot here,” Robin said as he pointed a little ways in front of them, “and Killian is going to give you some pointers for where to throw now that they’re warm.”

Emma sputtered, but Robin turned and walked back to the dugout.  Killian sauntered up to her, his glove perched on one hip while he held his belt buckle in his right hand.  Emma noted with some annoyance (and a dash of attraction, not that she would admit it) that he seemed to let his hips lead him in the direction he wanted to walk.  Emma frowned as she realized she noticed that.

“It looks like it’s just you and me, now, love,” Killian smiled once he got close enough to her so he didn’t have to shout.

“And the whole field of your teammates,” Emma retorted pointedly. 

Jefferson frowned as Emma crossed her arms and Killian closed the space between them even more, smiling at her the whole time.  “Uh, guys?  You’re not actually alone.  I’m- I’m right here,” he said, a bit baffled by their behavior.

Neither seemed to take any notice of his presence as they stared challengingly at each other, so he sighed, shook his head, and turned away, waiting impatiently for whatever this was that was going on between the Sheriff of Boston and their starting catcher to finish.  Jefferson looked towards second base to gauge how Liam was taking these events, but if Liam noticed anything suspicious halfway to home plate from the mound, he didn’t give any indication of it.

Killian glanced down at Emma’s figure surreptitiously before meeting her eyes.  He held out his glove to her and said, “So let’s see if you know your way around the balls.” 

Emma scowled and pushed the ball into his mitt hard.  “I’ve been known to fondle them a time or two.” 

Killian chuckled in amazement at her gumption.  “Alright, you want to stand right here, like this,” he said as he maneuvered her body into position. 

“Is it really necessary for you to touch me like this,” Emma huffed, but otherwise let him touch her legs and shoulders to get her into position.

“Well, strictly speaking, probably not,” Killian answered mildly as he tapped her foot to get her to move it a bit further away from her other one.

“Figures,” Emma huffed, showing more annoyance than she felt at his insistence on feeling her up.  If she had really minded it, she could have put a stop to it; the fact that she didn’t spoke volumes to them both. 

“Well, I’m a baseball player, love.  I know my way around the bases.”  Killian looked up at her through his lashes to gauge her expression.  He was delighted to see that, underneath her mask of outrage, her eyes were glimmering with suppressed mirth brought about by their banter.

He decided to back off a bit after that particularly risqué remark, instead focusing on his instructions for what to do to ensure a good first pitch.  Jefferson, upon seeing that they were finally getting serious, contributed his input on how to hold her feet and where to step to ensure that she didn’t look as if she knew next to nothing about throwing a baseball. 

After the brief instruction, Killian moved behind home plate to catch a few throws from her.  Emma threw the baseball to Killian to get warmed up, trying to make sure she implemented all the instructions Killian had given her (with Jefferson’s correction as needed) and Killian threw the ball to Jefferson, who caught it and handed it back to her.  Emma took this time to shamelessly get to watch Killian as he moved. 

He made the act of catching and throwing look like some kind of lyrical dance.  He moved so gracefully, so fluidly, through the crouches, the throws, and the almost-lazy catches.  Emma was secretly pleased to note that he seemed to need to pay very little attention to where the ball was, instead paying her the majority of his attention in the way his eyes raked her figure.  She hoped she looked even slightly as graceful in throwing as he did in catching. 

After a few minutes of practicing her pitching skills, she nodded to Jefferson that she thought she was ready.  Killian ran out to meet them before she walked off the field to wait until game time. 

“So, Swan,” he said smiling at her, “how do you feel? Are you ready for your big debut?”

Emma chuckled.  “I don’t know about a ‘big debut,’ but I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.  I think I’m looking forward to the bottle of rum I’ve got at home for when this is over.”  She reached over and massaged her shoulder a bit. 

“A rum drinker too?” Killian whistled.  “You’re a girl after my own heart, aren’t you?”

Emma smiled slyly, and that was his only warning before she quipped, “I’m quite the catch.”

Killian laughed.  “You’re a catch worthy of a gold glove,” he agreed, delighting in making her laugh more. 

Their moment couldn’t last, though.  Robin’s yelling broke through their concentration on each other, and he and Emma glanced over to see Robin waving her over to the dugout. 

“Duty calls,” Killian noted.  “Are you going to stay through the whole game?”

Emma nodded.  “I’m meeting a few friends in the stands after the pitch is thrown.”

“And what about after?” he pressed. 

Emma gave him a searching glance.  “I’m not sure,” she answered.  “Why?”

Killian swallowed, and decided to shoot his shot.  “Well I was just wondering what the ‘win probability’ was for taking you out some time?”

Emma raised her brows, ignoring RRobin's increasingly agitated summons.  “My dugout or yours?” 

Killian smiled.  “How about I get your number after the game, and we can decide?” 

Emma smiled prettily, and Killian had the sudden notion that the sun hadn’t truly shined until it illuminated her smile. 

“I think you just hit a home run.”  She left him with a lingering look and a smile, finally turning and going to the dugout where Robin was shaking his head.  

Killian watched her go with a starstruck look in his eyes.  Jefferson watched her leave the field with less interest than Killian did. 

“Think we can focus on winning the game, now?” Jefferson asked pointedly.  Killian nodded and shifted into focusing on the game at hand.

As the teams focused on completing their warmups, the fans began trickling in.  Emma was taken to a part of the stadium just off the field where she gave an interview on the latest activities at the sheriff’s station of Boston.  She talked about a few projects in the works as a way for the officers to give back to the community, hoping to highlight their humanitarian efforts.  The last question she was asked by the reporter concerned her plans for re-election.

“While no campaigns have officially kicked off, I do have plans on running again and continuing the work for the community of Boston that I’ve championed,” Emma replied, with a polite smile and nod.

The reporter thanked her, and then Emma was whisked off to the field for her first pitch.  She stepped onto the field to applause, making sure to wave at the crowd for the cameras (and hoping she didn’t screw this up and have to listen to Regina later), and she took the baseball from Robin.  He moved off the field, and she stood at the position she had been told previously.  She paused for a moment, letting the cameras take their pictures, and stared at the catcher.

Killian Jones squatted behind home plate, his mask off for the moment and laying on the ground beside him.  He smirked at her and raised his eyebrow, seeming to say, “So what have you got for me?”

Emma felt her face heat at the suggestion in his eyes.  She rolled her own and resolved to knock his smirk off his face.  She took one last breath and held it.  She reared back, the ball clutched firmly in her hand, and moved forward with the throw.  The rest of the world seemed to fade away as she stared Killian down.  Nothing else existed but this moment as his blue eyed gaze met her green one.  She released the ball, watching it almost float in the air, and let out the breath she had been holding.  Killian’s glove snapped shut around it, and the crowd cheered.  Killian stood up and cheered as well.

“Play ball!” the announcer exclaimed, and Emma was ushered off the field after a few more pictures.  Once off the field, Emma was escorted by Robin to her seat for the game.  She made sure to get some popcorn and a drink just after the home team took the field, settling in to have a good time with Ruby and Dorothy, who had both agreed to accompany her since Henry wasn’t with her this weekend.  Once she was settled, she sat back and enjoyed herself.  Her seat was just behind home plate, high enough to see the rest of the field but close enough to keep a close eye on the catcher and umpire.  

The game progressed like baseball normally did, with both teams managing to get hits into gaps in the defense and then getting players out to prevent any runs scored.  Emma took a few selfies to post to Instagram to pass the time, making sure to take some pictures of the field and the players as well that she included in her post.  (And if she happened to take a few of the Sox’s catcher, that was no one’s business but hers.)  Ruby and Dorothy enjoyed photobombing some of them, and Emma laughed at their antics as they took pictures of each other, cheering when the Sox got on base or got a player out.  They enjoyed chatting and catching up, as they didn’t see each other as often as they liked to.  

As the game progressed, there were a few times when Killian had to chase a ball to the backstop that Emma could have sworn he was looking up at her after catching the errant ball.  When he went back to get into catching position, Emma also swore that he was purposefully bending over a bit more than he probably would otherwise, and did he just wiggle his butt at her?!  Emma smiled and dug out her phone to try and catch it again, recording the video for a time, laughing along with Ruby as she did so.  She wanted to use it as blackmail material for after the game (and she did manage to catch it again on her phone).  She cheered when the Sox scored each time, cheering especially hard when Killian managed to get a hit and run the bases.

The game finally ended with a score of 4-3, the Red Sox winning handily after a seventh inning rally by the opposing team.  Once the game was over and Emma had said goodbye to Ruby and Dorothy, who had plans for dinner that evening, an official from the organization asked her to come with him, and she followed him down to an area where the locker rooms were.  The official told Emma to wait there, and so she leaned against the wall and waited.

She didn’t have to wait long before Killian came out of the locker room.  He had changed into street clothes that consisted of jeans and a dark blue hoodie that made his eyes pop even more.  He was closely followed by his brother, Liam, who scowled at the sight of Emma waiting for them.  Emma watched as Liam said something to his brother, a tight look on his face.  Killian waved his concerns off, and then the two men fell silent, obviously having some sort of silent conversation about Killian’s decision to meet her after the game.

Finally, Emma watched as Liam rolled his eyes and stalked off.  Killian turned and sauntered over to her, a broad grin on his face.

“Now, how about that date, Love?” Killian asked, a hopeful look on his face.

Emma looked him up and down, deliberately letting her eyes linger over his form.  When her eyes met his once more, she smirked. 

“I guess that would be alright.  But what happens after that?” Emma fluttered her eyelashes.

Killian stepped even closer until he was close enough to brush her lips with his.  “Date me, and you’ll eventually see a real diamond.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden intensity in his eyes.  

“What are we waiting for then?  Let’s go,” she said, holding her hand out to his.  He took it and raised it to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to the back.  They left, intent on both getting dinner and seeing where this might lead.

A little less than a year later, they were in front of their friends and family at the head table at their wedding reception, holding each other close as they danced in slow circles, the diamond in Emma’s ring glinting in the soft lighting.  Emma raised her head from Killian’s chest where it had been resting and gave him a loving, mischievous smile. 

“What is it, darling?” he said, smiling softly back at her.

“It looks like you’re batting .300, what with the wedding and all.”  

Killian laughed and softly kissed her lips, which she eagerly returned.  “No, my love,” he replied, “I’ve succeeded in batting the elusive .400, what with our successful courtship, engagement, and now wedding.”

He spun her out and then pulled her back in dramatically, causing her to laugh.  

“Now we’ll just have to see if you hit a home run with the honeymoon,” Emma responded.  “Then you could be at an even better percentage.”

Killian smiled brilliantly. “Oh, it will be, Swan.”

“Swan-Jones,” she corrected. 

“Swan-Jones,” Killian amended, pulling her in closer.  

All around them, their friends and family mingled, having a good time.  Henry and Alice, Killian’s daughter, were playing, and Liam was having a good time with the two kids, having finally gotten over his aversion to Killian and Emma’s relationship.  It had taken time for them to get to the place they were in, where they were all family, but Killian and Emma wouldn’t have it any other way.  Emma thought back to all of their trials, their own issues, vengeful exes, and miscommunications, but having the one person she could call hers made it all worth it.

Emma decided then and there that her favorite sport was baseball, after all.

[hideyseek]

hi hii hiii☕️📒📚

hi hii hiii !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! crab hehe mwah thanks for these !!

from this ask game for writers!

☕️ What's your go-to drink while writing?

hmmm ... i think my beverage consumption habits while i'm writing are usually a) nothing bc i need both hands to type and also when im writing i need to type to think, or b) something w sugar and/or caffeine if i'm in a break in a session or right before starting and trying to jumpstart my brain. in that case usually some kind of juice or sweet tea! oh i guess next most common is c) my tea i made that has gone completely cold but is still sweet and more importantly is right there

📒 Where do your jot down your ideas?

ahaha i think my answer to this is kind of cursed actually. i used to have this beautiful system where i had a separate evernote note for every project, and put down ideas in the relevant note until i had enough to start writing (or outlining or whatever) but then at some point that became too many clicks / while in a project i would continue to have a million little disconnected thoughts, so now it all goes into my personal discord server in a #writing-notes channel with a separate thread per project (project-neutral notes go in the main channel). this system is terrible because unlike evernote, discord does not have an undo button if you draft an entire scene in the message composition box and then hit delete by accident. i would not recommend this system to basically anyone however i cannot seem to get back out of it

📚 Who's your favorite author (or a few of them)?

oh boy haha. i am ... hmm. i am, haha. i do not really read books, for a guy whose main hobby is typing. well i suppose i still have favorite writers/authors:

gail carson levine (ella enchanted my beloved)

uh. well when i wrote the first bit i was pretty sure i was gonna come up with more than one.

tons of people in a bunch of different fandoms, i am too shy to list lol, but. its all in my ao3 bookmarks

oh my god maggie stiefvater (the scorpio races my beloved) — certainly i want to be her much less than i did a decade ago but ... very much a formative author for me

well hm sorry haha i just truly do not read much traditionally published fiction these days 🤘

[tacitusauxilium]

tagged by: @icyexecutioner (cause the moment I saw it on my dash, I HAD to do it! oOo)

tagging: anyone who is a female with a male muse!

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴜꜱᴇ(ꜱ) ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ?

let's see--i just finished playing p3p for the first time in 2012 and began to look on tumblr for fanart. saw there were RP blogs and it looked absolutely fun to interact and to create scenarios i've always wanted to see! and noticed that Fuuka was barely on tumblr. in a blink of an eye, i began to rp her and well...here you go~

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ?

hmmm... fight scenes. because they are so difficult to type out and while it's a blessing to have someone who cannot fight, i WANT to write them but a bit scared to do it tbh.

ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ?

angst. oh god i am good at crushing people with my angst then and now. i will say my sexual stuff has gotten better and really wanna write more of that--a huge fan of hurt and comfort stuff, too!

ʜᴏᴡ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ?

they pop up in my head or when i'm talking to a friend or listening to music--something just motivates me and i just have to type it down before i forget. or if someone asks me a question about fuuka, i try to make it into a headcanon post if possible.

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ɪɴ ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ?

depends. i usually just have background noise because of my almost 3 year old, but if i need to get focus, i will turn music on and let myself go to town!

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʟᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴘʟɪᴇꜱ ᴏʀ ᴡɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ?

i like to plan my replies out--if it's an important thread, that is. besides that, i will usually wing them, then re-read it to make sure it made sense, and then post it lol

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ꜱʜɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ?

omg yes i do! i need more tbh--i want to experience ships that make me think on my toes and/or ships that have characters not talking to one another but a few times (a la Shinji).

ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟɪᴀꜱ/ɴᴀᴍᴇ?

you can call me Brittany, but back in the day I was called Kiki because i had the hair-do of Kiki from Kiki's delivery service--my husband coined the term tbh.

ᴀɢᴇ?

i am 30 but will be 31 next month!

ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ?

may 25th~

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄᴏʟᴏʀ(ꜱ)?

teal, pink, purple, and white.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ(ꜱ)?

tolerate it, maroon, exile, and the 1, all by taylor swift. i am on a taylor swift binge and i love it.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

uhhhh... i think i watched the Barbie movie.

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ?

the apothecary diaries--just finished the dub for season 1. SO FUCKING GOOD

ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ?

maroon--taylor swift

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ?

the chewy chips ahoy cookies that just break off so easily in your mouth--omg.

ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ?

spring--love the flowers blooming and the rain that falls that helps me sleep~

ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ?

uhhhh...i think i have a lot of friends tbh. best friend? i think it'll have to go to @segnisacfessis as of recent with us RPing on discord and doing fuuka/shinji and chidori/junpei stuff lol

[dvilsdesire-a]

GETTING TO KNOW YOU.

respond to the following prompts out of character. then, tag others that you'd like to get to know a little bit better!

ROLEPLAYER NAME: Owl or Sam, I go by both.

ROLEPLAYER PRONOUNS: He/him.

MUSE NAME: Haarlep

PREFERRED COMMUNICATION: Discord if we've had a few interactions, I don't mind IM's but we all know what tumblr is like when it comes to IM's here. IM's is great for when I'm not at home tho, since I literally only use discord while I'm on my PC.

EXPERIENCE: I'm old, I've got a lot of experience, been doing it for well over a decade, from MSN times through to email and forums back in the day, or devART notes.

PREFERRED ROLEPLAY TYPE: I like making relationships and seeing those muses grow from said relationships (or not lol). I want connections, though. I don't want to feel like it's a chore to write with someone. I want to have fun. I like a good mix between dark, nitty gritty and absolutely fluffy and cute, soooo.

PET PEEVES & DEALBREAKERS:

Please for the love of god read my rules. I don't expect anyone (including myself) to remember everyone's rules, we all write with a multitude of people, but when it's blatantly obvious that you've not even glanced over my rules, it's not going to make me want to interact with you. (:

Blog policing. Seriously, if you don't like something, then don't indulge in it? It's that fucking simple. Let people write villains, let people write problematic characters that are morally grey or whatever else. Just because you don't like them doesn't mean you have the right to abuse those that do. Writing evil characters doesn't make you a bad person. Have you ever actually picked up a book and read it? This just boggles my mind... Why do you think you can do this? And sadly enough, this has legitimately pushed fantastic people and Rpers away from the hobby they once loved.

One liners. I have a really difficult time... NOT writing paras. And that's a me thing. If you write one liners and that suits you, then by all means, please continue! But it does mean we're simply not compatible. Unless it's little dash commentary shenanigans, I can't stand one liners.

PLOTS OR MEMES: Both. I think memes are a REALLY good way to break the ice, especially when if you're anything like me, a person who comes home from work and is thoroughly exhausted that my brain can't possible think of anything super heavy when it comes to plot. But in saying that, I do love getting to plot with my mutuals and chatting and building character development through this. So both are good. :)

LONG REPLIES OR SHORT REPLIES: 99% of the time long. Like I stated previously, it's HARD for me to write short responses, and I like having something I can work off. Also... the inner monologue gets away from me at times :'D I only like short if it's silly dash commentary or maybe just a simple ask meme or something that isn't intended to be plotted out into a thread.

BEST TIME TO WRITE: A day off X'D Honestly, I'm MUCH more energetic and a better writer when it's early morning. Once it hits noon, I'm like a potato sack.

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSES: Haarlep? Lol, no. Not at all. He's charming and evil and swanky and sexy (and quite literally a sex addict). I'm literally a metal head nerd that likes my own solitude and just listens to music and does art and plays games. I'm also very asexual. I'm socially awkward af (: Haarlep is ALL charm. The only thing I could say is MAYBE... maybe my Libra charm, but... I'm so tired these days that that hardly shines through lol. I am just a sleepy hoot.

Tagged by: Stole it. Tagging: Yooouuuu

[savior-of-humanity]

Ouougrghhh yeah um. Sorry for being basically dead here lately 😭 I've basically had zero energy for writing on tumblr lately + my energy has basically been reserved for niche discord rp servers (Godzilla/Evangelion crossovers my beloved) and video games. I might also drop most, if not all, of my threads/owed replies in the inbox but idk if or when I'm gonna do that. If yall ever wanna reach out to me for w/e reason, your always welcome to hit up my DMs on here or discord!!! You can find me @ sharklordsatan on discord

Anyways. I'm gonna drop some Hot New Lore™ under the read-more for my argonian character (Swift-With-Arrows) since I decided I didn't really like how ""plain"" her backstory was

SURPRISE BITCH YOU ALSO GET SOME ART OF HER TOO!!!! Okay anyways. For context, originally Swift's backstory was pretty generic - she grew up in Black Marsh, before setting out to explore the world (definitely visiting at least Cyrodiil + Morrowind) at around 19 - 20 before she'd end up in Skyrim.

Now, the current iteration of her backstory goes something like this;

Somewhere on Solstheim, there's a remnant of the old Dragon Cult. They once were part of the cult for Miraak, but became disillusioned with him (given that he was, y'know, stuck in Apocrypha) and fucked off to return to their dragon-worshipping ways.

However, they would latch on to the idea of a Dragonborn being subservient to the will of their dragon overlords, much like how Miraak himself had once been. So obviously they set off to go actually find a Dragonborn - which. Isn't an easy thing to pull off, given their rarity. I don't know how long it would take them (let alone how they do it - maybe something involving Daedra?) but eventually, finally, they find what they're looking for. A child, born of dragon blood, deep within the swamps of Black Marsh.

I also don't have many solid ideas on how she ends up in the custody of the cult in the first place, but either way, she's ultimately taken back to Solstheim and raised by the cult directly.

Her being taken from her homeland is a tragedy in of itself - it means that she's ultimately denied her birth-right to be raised by her people. To learn their culture, to live with her family, and ultimately to develop her connection with the Hist. Her being separated from Black Marsh at such a young age means that she is estranged from the Hist, further alienating her from her fellow Argonians.

It doesn't help that the cult actively indoctrinates her on her future role as Dragonborn; to them, she is to act as the ultimate servant to their dragon gods. The embodiment of their will, the perfect tool, the perfect slave - belonging to no-one but Alduin himself. It's not a great environment to grow up in, as you can imagine - especially as they at some point forcibly tattoo their given name for her, Dovriizaak, along her spine in Dovahzul.

Eventually, though, she escapes their clutches - fleeing into Morrowind, where she proceeds to head west so that she can get as far from Solstheim as possible. For a good while, she goes without any name whatsoever; the thought of being called her cult-given name (or her fated name as the priests called it), let alone the memory of the cult at all, was enough to make her sick to her stomach. Eventually, though, she would decide to give herself a name; Swift-With-Arrows. (Fun fact; this is the name the Hist would've given her had she still grown up in Black Marsh. So you could probably say that despite the circumstances of her childhood, she still has a connection.)

Finally, she crosses the border into Skyrim - only to be caught up in the middle of an Imperial ambush, leading into the events of the storyline. She never figured that she actually was Dragonborn despite the cult treating her as such, so to not only have Alduin himself come down from the sky and try to kill her at Helgen, and then later face Mirmulnir at the Whiterun tower and absorb his soul...

Yeah. She doesn't take it well.

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

GET TO KNOW THE AUTHOR!

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 : Bunni! I also go by Bunny, Bun or any other synonyms for a rabbit! Haha

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 : I go by all pronouns! Given I’m agender and like, just sort of foggy about my gender? I don’t really feel any one way or another! So call me what you want, I’m still a Bun!

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : Tumblr messages are honestly my go-to, simply because on Tumblr I notice a lot quicker than on discord and I’m less likely to forget!

𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄(𝐒) : Right now it’s Fíadh, the Alpinist, Chromeskull, Leshy and 8713!

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 / 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒? : No one laugh at me, but I started roleplaying on Quotev and Deviantart back when I was, I think, 14? And now I’m 21, turning 22, so crunching the numbers, I’ve been writing for just about 7 years! Probably more though, given my memory isn’t super accurate and I’m probably leaving out a lot! Haha

𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 : On the platform?? MEETING ALL OF MY CURRENT PALS! God, I will call them out by name but Bruce and Freddy were some of the kindest, most encouraging and patient folks I have ever met and I’m so glad I was able to find them on here and write with them when I could!

𝐑𝐏 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒 : OH MY GOD I HAVE SO MANY; my number one pet peeve, though is when people just straight up do not read your responses and writing! Not in the sense of misunderstanding your intentions but just straight up not reading all of your answers to the point where it shows IN THEIR RESPONSES! Sorry not sorry, but if you cannot handle a multi-para high-lit writer, don’t try to roleplay with them! Letting them create paragraphs for you, only for you to ignore or skim it is a dick move!

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓? :

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒? : NGL my pride would physically not allow me to post anything under one paragraph. Just not my style! That being said, I’m not picky with what I get! As long as it has enough for me to build action and voice on top of, I’m happy!

𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒? : My most controversial take, but I almost prefer memes more than extremely long and drawn-out plots taking place over weeks, because, no matter how much I adore a dynamic, that commitment eventually does wear me out y'know??

𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄? : UHHHHH- whenever I get the time and that hyper fixation strikes! Usually early evening, though!

𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒? : WELLL, it really depends! Am I out in the hills eating people, in a hospital healing people, defying death at every turn or ruling a hellish realm? Absolutely not! But each of the muses does contain a small piece of me beneath the surface!

It seems silly but I’ve always done this as a way to make it easier for me to relate and connect to them! It’s often microscopic, but shared traumas, fears, loves and minor personality traits (8713 is most like the mun ngl) does countless good to ensuring that not only can I keep playing them in the long term but ensuring that they are wholly mine!

To outline one of the similarities/shared threads of personality

Fíadh deals heavily with a fear of abandonment and loss of control over her body.

In her story, this is due to several factors from childhood neglect and abuse, a precarious sense of self-esteem, the curse that plagues her, her history of being moved around and used as a piece on a chess board, and the death/rejection from everyone she has held dear up to her current point (except for the Trapper/Trader and Leshy ofc) however the truth is, while narratively it does make sense, it was born from me and my experience as being neurodivergent and struggling with a sense of self and value due to the repeated rejection and experiences that came from it!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : @lettherebemonsters (thank you a ton for the tag! I had a lot of fun filling this out!) 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 : anyone who wants to do this!