#I love this story so much I wish I could immortalize it somehow

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

THERE'S A CASTLE ON THE HILL, AS THE STORY GOES...

As promised, some initial thoughts on the things I loved about seeing this show. Spoiler free, since most of us haven't gotten to see it yet, and under the cut since I do wax a bit poetic...

Cinderella’s Castle is, in a strange way, an exercise in irony. The show is a retelling of an ancient story that is beloved and recited throughout so many cultures, and yet somehow feels completely fresh. The modern take on glam-punk lighting, a score infused with styles from 80s synth to anime, a high fantasy set with the costumes to match, the spirit of Jim Henson lingering through both the puppets and some larger and intangible vibe, a script combining that Starkid humor and Hatchetfield darkness with a whole different style of speaking… all of these beautifully executed elements melted together into something that I’ve never before seen. To take a tale as old as time and make it unique is no easy feat, but Starkid did so with magic and charm to spare.

Like any good Starkid show, Cinderella’s Castle is relentlessly dynamic: fun and tragic and exciting and just-plain-silly, with many twists and turns and character moments will make you gasp or cheer just as often as you laugh. It simply rollicks. The story clicks right along, especially in act 2, but the characters are so distinct and fun that I found myself almost wishing the Langs had sacrificed their plotting and pace just to spend more time hanging with every single member of this ensemble of personalities.

And that’s also a tribute to the actors themselves. Jeff is David Bowie reborn as the impish and fabulous narrator. Jon and Joey bring Hop A Lot and Crumb to life with so much charm and presence that they practically had the audience eating out of their hands from the very first second. Like, seriously, you will not believe how invested you will immediately become in these talking animals. Kim’s Fairy Queen is as radiant and terrible as promised; her portrayal of immortal inhuman power compels and commands and stands fully distinct from the Lords in Black. Lauren and Mariah are delightfully disgusting as the vile but deeply lovable troll step-sisters; you can feel the fun they’re having practically radiating off of them. Curt’s Tadius is dryly funny and put-upon, but also provides a vitally grounding and centering presence in the larger-than-life world of the Lands That Are. His big scene with Bryce is probably my favorite part of the whole show. James Tolbert is nothing short of an absolute STAR as the Prince, stealing scene after scene after scene with ease and charm and more jokes about genitalia than I think any of us expected. Angela once again displays a completely different facet of her never-ending range, exuding such elegance and control even in trollish filth that I do fear that the kids on the internet are going to start calling her “mother” with greatly increasing frequency. "Facade" was an absolute highlight of the night. And of course Bryce anchors, propels, and heightens every scene she’s in with such apparent ease you forget she’s been rehearsing for weeks and isn’t simply Ella herself. Ella is this world’s bruised, brave, and angry heart, and you will absolutely root for her every step of the way as she wrestles with who she is and learns what it means to claim her own power.

This was Starkid’s biggest budgeted show to date, and you could tell. This group of Michigan Wolverines and friends have accomplished incredible things since the Very Potter days of a single door and some cardboard columns, and I’m so proud of how far they’ve come. And yet Cinderella’s Castle, the fifteenth musical in the fifteenth year, still retains some of that core Starkid magic that I’ve always believed boils down to love. You can so often see that love emanating from the performers on a Starkid stage: love for the show, for their friends, for their craft, for the audience’s energy pushing them through. And the sense of love and support and community radiating from the audience is just as palpable. The man sitting behind me last night was at his first ever Starkid show, and afterwards he remarked in awe how that was the best audience he’d ever been in. And all that love isn’t unearned—it is built and it is nourished by a proud history of creativity, of song and of dance and of laughter and tears. And Cinderella’s Castle, I think, is going to prove an installment worthy of both Starkid’s past and future.

Starkid family, Bogs Hollow grants thee Starlight.

[fangirlofallthefanthings]

heard you have headcanons on ody and dio meeting again after he returns. how does that go? how does penelope feel?

Ooooo!!! Boy, do I have ideas [insert shakey turtle of excitement here]

So, it's a little bit complicated, and I don't want to give too much away since it relates to what I'm currently working on, BUT!

I GOT YOU, FAM!

Basically: after Diomedes gets kicked out of Argos (it's very sad, the poor man), he realizes he has nowhere else to go except literally anywhere but the Eastern Mediterranean. So, he sets off for Hesperia (aka modern Italy) to start a new life there. But in this time of heartbreak, he's missing Odysseus even more (they had a sad goodbye on Crete; it's a long story), and he decides to stop at Ithaca on the way to get some supplies and maybe visit Ody. But when he gets there, he finds that Ody is MIA and Penelope is running things. So he hangs out for a while and gets to know Pen and Telemachus (who is about 11 or 12 by this point), and quickly figures out why Ody would talk about her literally any chance he got. She's beautiful, yes, but she's also just as cunning and wise as Odysseus is... The same qualities Dio fell in love with. And Pen is curious about Dio, too. She's heard many stories and news about her husband's schemes with Dio, and she starts falling for him a bit, too. But Diomedes doesn't want to dishonor the Bro Code by getting with Penelope. Ody loves Penelope! Dio could never hurt Ody like that. So... He leaves. He says goodbye to Pen and Telemachus and heads off to Hesperia. He and Penelope wonder what could have been since they believe they will never see each other again.

BUT THEN ODY RETURNS TO ITHACA!!! YIPPEE!!! Diomedes hears this news, but he has his new city to run, so he doesn't return immediately. After a few years, though, he gets usurped and kicked out again, so he's like, "Welp. I have nowhere else to go," and he goes back to Ithaca. He and Ody reunite and there's hugs all around and it's really sweet. Dio soon finds that OdyPen had another kid, a daughter (I haven't figured out a name for her yet, but she's two when Dio shows up). This part of the story is very loose, but I do know they all put two and two together about all their feelings eventually (Odysseus is very happy about this as you can imagine lmao!) It's little slice of life stuff from there. A little hc I have about the three of them is that Dio teaches OdyPen's daughter how to box because she's a little firecracker and needs to get rid of excess energy somehow, but she can't stay still long enough to weave (plus she's really little and doesn't have the fine motor skills for that yet). Dio and Ody also work together to hone Telemachus's and Diodotus's skills (who Diodotus is... you'll know soon enough lmao). I also hc that Pen frequently tricks OdyDio into wrestling each other so she can watch for her own entertainment. She's just sitting to the side, eating her bowl of table grapes, enjoying the show okasdfhsdugif- I also hc that... Once OdyPen passes on, Diomedes leaves again. The kids don't want him to go, but he can't stay. He wants to honor Ody's wish for Tele to be king. If he stays, people will think he wants to take over. He doesn't want a war among Ody's people so... he leaves. He establishes one last city in Hesperia and feels his life coming to a close. He climbs a nearby cliff by the sea to enjoy the view, looking east. Then Athena shows up, and he accepts immortality. Sorry... Got sort of sad toward the end there, but that's a few things! I have a lot of thoughts, but I'm very scattered rn. If you have more specific questions, feel free to ask! I don't bite, I promise! :D

[tianasficrecs168]

The Sandman Fic Recs

Magnolia35: Moonflower (Hob/Dream) • "Hob has to do a double take because Dream is crying; big, ugly, hiccuping sobs that wrack his skeletal frame to the point where Dream looks like a leaf in the wind. The raven that’d been following the man the last time they met— Mike or Martin or Matthew or something— pecks at the guys shoes. The story of how Hob Gadling starts a pub, beats up a god, stares down Death, falls in love with Dream of the Endless, and amasses a small army of fidget cubes. Not necessarily in that order.

TinyButFierce: "Into Darkness and Howling (I'll Keep Him From Drowning)" (Hob/Dream) It was beginning to sound like Roderick Burgess had something or someone trapped in his basement. Hob was starting to wonder if he should do something about that.

MonstrousRegiment: “The Uses of Adversity” (Hob/Dream) What led Hob Gadling — at the time known as Robert Stranger, because he’d been in a permanent state of pettiness from 1889 to about 1904 and now he was stuck with it — to the dank, cold, and dark basement of the Burgess house on March of 1957 was not so much coincidence or fate as it was curiosity. Yeah. Cats isn’t the only thing it kills. Alright, wait. Back up. Let’s start from the beginning. It was 1957 and Hob Gadling was, by no action or choice of his own, sort of — it’s a bit embarrassing — a criminal master. Not mastermind! He hadn’t planned any of it. Honestly.

CeruleanHeart: - “Darker, Still” (...) (Hob/Dream) When Dream doesn't show up for their appointment in 1989, Hob decides to devote a part of his immortality to looking for his mysterious friend. He is dedicated not to wait and hope for another century for the slim chance of seeing him again. Even if he has to bribe, lie and steal, use every trick in the book he's learned in the past 600 years, he will find him. After over a century, Dream has almost given up on the hope of ever escaping his prison when help finally shows up in the form of someone least expected, compelling him to re-evaluate the nature of his interest in an old acquaintance.

Snits: - “Country Roads (Take Me Home)” (Hob/Dream) • Hob and Dream go back to Hob's for a nightcap. While they're there, they address some trauma, and Hob finally learns the name of the man(-shaped being) he's known for seven hundred years.

Sonhoedestrazao: “These days of dust” (Hob/Dream) There is something different about him, though his appearance is identical. The curious part of Hob Gadling, the one that ensures that his wish to live persists through the ages, can’t wait to figure out what it is exactly. (Or: the New Inn encounter continued.)

Sonhoedestrazao: “Stuck in a season” (…) (Hob/Dream) Hob Gadling opens his eyes in the year of our Lord of 1889, in a tavern that he somehow knows no longer exists, among people long dead. Alone at a table for two, he leans over and says to no one in particular, “He’ll be back. You’ll see.” (Or: how to deal when your nameless friends keeps appearing in dreams and a talking bird approaches you with dating advice.)

Majestickasztan: “Painted by sorrow” (Hob/Dream) • When Hob looked up and found his oldest friend looking back, he was, one could say, taken aback. But when you're immortal and things go according to your expectations, life gets very boring very quickly, so he couldn't bring himself to complain. Not that he wanted to. He was pining for this guy since 1489, after all.

KatieKat527: “Perchance to” (Dream/Hob) • Hob Gadling muses on modern advancements. Only as they pertain to a sleepy morning in bed with his “stranger.”

Newfandomnewpseud (Broodthaers): “A Mug’s Game” (Dream/Hob) Hob Gadling teaches history, flirts with Death, gets a boyfriend, and accidentally breaks the laws of the universe.

Brackets (…) means it's still being updated/not done/WIP – and I'm paying close attention to it

Zeros with a strikethrough (000) Disappeared off the net (I still have a doc of it saved somewhere)

A black dot • means it's a one-shot

Ship with + means it's either time travel or dimension hopping – something along those lines

A heart ♡ means it's focused on Sexy times (it's pure filth PWP)

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝗱 !? ♥

:feat~ xiao, kazuha, scaramouche x gn!reader:

⤷ fluff. fluff to cure to soul.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis

Seems like someone is catching feelings... how do they hide them? (...or try to)

XIAO is impossibly perplexed... both at himself, and you.

Because when it comes down to it, he's an immortal and you're merely a human, two contrasting types of beings that should never strive to coexist... alongside one... another...

...Yet, why does he wish for that possibility, with the few remnants of hope that still remain in his soul?

It's something unnatural, these emotions that are welling up in his body, but he can't bring himself to detest it. The feelings that arise when he's with you, the quickened rate of his heartbeat and the strange heat that's risen to his face... while all of it is unnervingly unfamiliar, somehow, it's comforting.

And he can't begin to explain why... but he's felt this warmth in his being before... albeit on a lesser scale. The way his eyes seem to light up, ever so slightly when you appear before him... yes, he's seen this before.

He recognizes it.

And it's what they call 'love.'

He wants to scoff at the very notion of such an outlandish topic. One that he could never even dream of experiencing... until, of course, now.

He's certainly not the most expressive in his emotions, so at first, it's almost like the atmosphere between the two of you hasn't even changed. But soon enough, it's growing more and more clear, from the way his usually unreadable facade has morphed into one of a flustered expression whenever you get too close, how he sometimes flinches when the two of you make contact... and how sometimes, he refuses to meet your eye, staying silent.

Maybe you don't notice it in the beginning, but as time goes on, it'll only become more and more apparent. More and more obvious, until...

"I think I'm in love with you." ♥

KAZUHA has heard tales of such... emotions from the Crux's drunken sailors.

But to say that prepared him for confronting such feelings himself... that was a different topic entirely. The most he'd felt of such 'love' was when his past friend was still alive... but the affection he had experienced then was nothing compared to how passionate his adoration of you was.

Needless to say, he had found himself knee deep in such a predicament. Running through his mind all of those stories the sailors had spun... tales of a beloved...

Kazuha would be jesting if he claimed that he had never imagined himself in such rose-tinted fantasies. And now that he was in one himself, he's already far too entranced to deny it.

Ah... but working up the courage to confess is much too difficult... so for now, the wanderer will tarry with his time, writing poems of professing his adoration and daydreaming about the moment as the Crux's hull is gently lulled by the waves. Perhaps one day he'll sort himself out, perhaps one day he'll find himself speaking those three words that are spoken between lovers.

Kazuha is used to hiding, being a vagrant and a wanted criminal, however, cloaking his affection is another story. The male know's he's being painfully obvious, even when he's trying to act subtle... but he certainly can't help the way his cheeks flush whenever the two of you accidentally brush hands, or the way his mouth can't help but form a serene smile whenever you laugh. And every time those moments reoccur, time and time again, he gains just a slight more incentive.

In the moonlight, his beauty is striking, but all he can think of is you.

"...I have something important to tell you.

I'm in love with you." ♥

SCARAMOUCHE denies it. His feelings for you, and no matter how easily you're able to fluster him.

Why? To be exact, he's not even sure...

Maybe it has to do with the fact that he's closed off his heart to people long before he even met you. He who killed his emotions, so that they wouldn't hinder him. In order for his past torments to end.

"Killed..." Yet somehow, he still... felt something towards you, and unfamiliar emotion that seemed to bubble up from inside him and developed quicker by the day. An affection... obsession towards you that he couldn't stop.

...Would he want to stop it at all?

Needless to say, he's head over heels... but still persists onwards like nothing has transpired within that head of his. Sure, he feels strangely attracted towards you and everything you do, but that doesn't mean anything. Means nothing at all.

Ah, but even someone as powerful as Scaramouche can't keep such pining bottled up for who knows how long... sooner or later, a confession will arrive... and he knows full well of it.

The very thought of it has him disgusted.

Is he even able to feel such an emotion as 'love'? Perhaps he's just imagining it, a delusion forged by his own mind to satiate his sole self... after all, he doesn't even have a heart. He doesn't have anything to prove that he has a single shred of 'humanity.'

Or perhaps, he did 'have' one, and you were the one who stole it.

Haha, if that's the case, perhaps he won't mind. He'll bide his time, clench the fabric over his chest, smiling to himself as he imagines his absent heart beating alongside yours.

And maybe one day, he'll understand what his love towards you means. ♥

(a/n) once again, scaramouche is the only one who doesn't confess to it. (oops)

[shippyo]

Question for life: What’s your relationship with Morpho?

[this ask will have my own lore related to Morpho hope ya all enjoy💖]

also,i think [this] soundtrack might fit🩷

Morpho...Yes, she is very special to me, she is my daughter, the first of all, I reborn her myself with my own hands,lemme tell you the story...

Before long,long ago in immemorial times, far from when it all began but close to the dawn of it, Morpho was another and a completely different being, a young girl from a world that feels lost even in my memory,that, somehow in a way that I have never known,fell to my dimension, wounded, confused, with living tears.

I remember that being when asked who I was and after I explained myself she told me

"Why have you been so cruel to me?"

That paralyzed me,i..i been cruel,it was the first i realized such thing that my whole existence is contradiction,i bring wonders yet suffering to all living beings,even if im not able to control what happens.

That poor being cried for every terrible misfortune that occurred in her life, abuse, wars, the fall of her world, she was still alive, of course, but she begged me not to return, not even to go to the afterlife and rest in peace, no, the pain that her tears brought was so breaking that she wanted to disappear from existence itself.

Obviously it's not something I wasn't going to do, I COULDN'T even if I can do it, it was unfair, it wasn't her fault that her life went so miserable to such disgrace thought in her mind came into it with no return to change it,she was lost, in exchange, I asked her permission to not go to such path, but rather be something new and somehow,she accepted, thinking that would end all.

In all honesty, at that moment I was not clear about the extent of my power, I knew that I had it and that I could do something outside of normal understanding for others but that pulse in me screamed for act different and so, I grabbed her face and my hands shone with intense light.

Without realizing it, the body disappeared when my palms closed, I felt fear for the first time thinking i destroyed her being, but I suddenly felt the flutter of a butterfly.

When I opened my hand, that butterfly that you all know so much came out and it didn't take long to complete its own metamorphosis as a new being.

The being before Morpho had disappeared, my power had a price to pay, in a way.

I don't know the reason but all those who are reborn from my hands forget in a certain way their old being, not as if it had never existed, they are not unconscious of what they experienced, but their souls feel pure,different and determined in wanting to defend life in being a new them, I feel them as an extension of me and they are condemned to a strange line where they cannot die for being so tied to me and yet even if she knew this she...

Looked at me happy, with a passion for living on her face that was not there before and thanked me for what I had done, although she felt sadness for her former self and her past,she now understood how beautiful it was to be there.

From there she named herself, "Morpho" and she felt indebted to me, although I did not want to,she insisted that to fight for me, defend, be the judge of beings of all those infinite dimensions, save others like who she was before, I do not like to feel that Im using her because I accepted her like some short of puppet, but even so, she has always seemed happy since then to serve me as a knight of life.

From then on, I was her mother and hundreds, billions like Morpho today are part of this family and I love them all equally.

Although...sometimes I wonder if I could use my power to reverse that strange "immortality" that ties them to me, I wish they could continue happy as they are now, but return to the mortality of life so that they finish their true cycle and not be attached to such tasks..I know I can and maybe one day I will have the courage to do it for the first time.

@kirbyoctournament

learn more of life lore [here!]

[baejax-the-great]

Sing, O Muse

Achilles is standing in his room, a scroll in his hand. He has a look of utmost concentration on the page, so much so he doesn’t notice Zagreus walking in, though his cheeks are strangely pink as his eyes scan over the words. He raises an eyebrow, then blinks a few times at whatever he has just read, at which point he notices Zagreus in the doorway. He coughs once, tossing the scroll to the desk.

“Interesting reading you have here, lad.”

Zagreus feels his own face begin to flush. Oh, no. Oh, no no no no no. “Dusa gave it to me,” he blurts out.

It’s not a lie. It is true of the scroll Achilles was just reading. It is not true of two of the scrolls now underneath it on his desk, which are written in his own hand. Blood and darkness, Thanatos was right about him needing to clean his room.

“I see,” Achilles says, though now his eyes have wandered to the poster of him Zagreus has on his wall, and he wants to die. It wouldn’t do much, because he’d only come back about twenty meters away, but getting skewered by Theseus would be less embarrassing than this moment.

“Did Patroclus, um…” Achilles’ brows furrow even deeper somehow. “Dusa’s never met him, has she?”

“No,” Zagreus says, and for some reason Achilles’ flush grows deeper.

“There are some very fine descriptions of him in that,” he says with a gesture to the scroll.

“Dusa has a way with words.”

There is an awkward pause in which Zagreus wishes with every bone in his body that Achilles would just tell him why he’s here and then leave his room and then immediately suffer a bout of amnesia, and in which Achilles does nothing at all.

“The muses,” Achilles says suddenly, but then he stops. “Well, they told me…” His eyes search the floor of Zagreus’s room. “I died before any of the songs about me were written, you see.”

“Oh.”

“Well, there were some songs, among the men, but not the promised immortal poetry.”

“I don’t think this counts as—”

“I’ve tried not to think about it much, what they would write about me, what the living people up there right now must think of me. I don’t even know how much time has passed, but immortal is forever, so the muses must… well, they must inspire as they see fit, I suppose.”

Both of them turn to look at the scroll sitting on Zagreus’s desk. Zagreus has never met the muses, so he doesn’t know if they like stories that involve two childhood friends now grown, dressed in torn, thin chitons while stranded in a cave after a surprise flooding cut them off from the rest of the army, tenderly washing each other’s wounds, caressing each other with the reverence of ostensibly unrequited love until one leans in with bated breath, then the other, both of them filled with such longing and such fear that once their lips finally do touch, they can’t help but make passionate love on the cavern floor, which, in Zagreus’s experience, would not be very pleasant on the knees and seems like a terrible risk for magma, but in Dusa’s writing comes off as desperately hot, so much so he can’t stop thinking about inviting Thanatos to Asphodel with him. Zagreus’s story club seems to like those stories, though, so perhaps he could get Hermes to send an invitation to the muses and see if any would like to visit.

“Would you like to keep it, sir?”

Achilles’ eyes widen as he looks at Zagreus dead on for the first time since Zagreus walked in the room. He protests that he couldn’t possibly, but Zagreus insists, “Maybe Patroclus would like to read it, too. It’s only fair, I think, given that it’s about him as much as it’s about you, sir.”

Achilles’ cheeks grow pink again. “That’s a very kind offer, lad, but I wouldn’t want to deprive you of your… reading material.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about it, sir, I’ve got lots of others to read, and Dusa’s already working on the sequel and I’m sure she’ll share it next week at our—”

Zagreus cuts himself off before he reveals that half the House gathers to talk about Achilles’ shapely legs and Patroclus’s hairy chest in all sorts of contrived scenarios. It’s not only them in the stories, but currently those are Zagreus’s favorites.

“Just how many people have read this?” Achilles asks, his voice strained.

“Not many,” Zagreus hedges. “A normal amount, I think.”

“Right.”

In a smooth movement, Achilles slips the scroll off the desk and tucks it away somewhere on his person. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer after all, lad,” he says before striding out of the room.

“Will you want to read the sequel, too?” Zagreus calls after him.

Achilles doesn’t acknowledge him, walking purposefully away before fading from view, a blue flash indicating he has made his way to Elysium.

Later, on some day or night, a new scroll lies on Zagreus’s desk. He unrolls it to find Achilles has written “He insisted” in a script so tight, Zagreus wonders if he didn’t snap the quill. Beneath that is a long list of what appears to be critiques written in Patroclus’s hand, including parts of Achilles’ body he believes were overlooked and underappreciated and the adjectives he personally would use to describe them, though a couple of those are blotted out, presumably by the messenger, as well as positions he thinks would be better-suited to making love on a cavern floor.

Zagreus glances at his door. He’d been planning on going back out there, in part because Eurydice has been waiting for him to finish Dusa’s latest story and he’s finally finished it, but at the very end of his very long note, Patroclus had suggested a shipwreck on an uninhabited island as a potential new setting for getting the heroes to admit their love for each other, and now he’s having so many thoughts about that he thinks he’ll explode if he doesn’t write them down this instant.

Zagreus sits at his desk, takes a long look at the poster of Achilles on the wall, and picks up a quill.

[demensrage]

Immortal whispers ⚊ chapter one

── summary: When the god Morax sees a mortal that capture his interest, he comes to realize that there is still so much of human nature that he has no experience of. For his lust for life through her he starts doubting himself and everything that makes an entity eternal. This is the story about a man, who finds out, what the essence of life is, as he will learn that love and death are two greatest gifts of life.

warning: Zhongli!morax x reader, angust, fluff, eventual smut but nothing explicit?

wordcount: 2.5k

go back

chapter two

note: english is not my firts lenguage so please forgive me for the grammatical errors I may commit.

The life of a god can be more or less pleasant; it all depends on the times. But it is true that immortality becomes boring at some point. It's all jokes and laughter, moments of seriousness in which wise decisions must be made. However, when the same situation presents itself over and over, with years of distance and different people, you already know how to act. You don’t have to think. The story has repeated itself so many times that, by inertia, you know the answer.

Thus lived Morax, the great god of contracts, immersed in an endless routine. On the cold nights of Liyue, where the stars twinkled like small beacons of hope, he watched from a distance, his immense and powerful figure camouflaged among the shadows of the mountains. His gaze, always attentive, focused on the lives unfolding before him—ephemeral beings filled with dreams and ambitions, and yet so vulnerable. It was easy to get lost in the flow of time, in the repetition of stories he knew by heart.

But tonight, something was different. The great rite of the Archon's Descent was to take place today, an event that drew thousands of mortals to the squares of Liyue, where devotion mingled with longing. The floating lanterns, made of delicate paper and soft light, ascended to the sky, illuminating the darkness with their warm glow. Each balloon carried a wish, a prayer, rising to the gods like small stars born from human hands.

Morax watched from a distance, feeling the palpable energy in the air. The rituals were meant to honor the gods, to remind mortals that their existence was not in vain. The voices of the believers resonated in hymns, and the offerings were presented with fervor, each gesture imbued with reverence. However, in his chest, a void grew, a reminder that, although surrounded by devotion, he felt increasingly distant.

As the ceremony progressed, the wind brought with it laughter and whispers, blending with the echo of the chants.

"Just like every year, but somehow, their energetic devotions continue to stir my soul," Morax murmured to himself as he walked among them, observing with the same monotony that had invaded him since times he could no longer remember. Although the festivities repeated with the same devotion as always, something in the fervor of the mortals still moved him deep within, as if there remained a spark of hidden emotion behind his serene and distant appearance.

The humans cheered, laughed, and embraced each other, wishing prosperity in their businesses and future contracts. Some drank, others conversed, exchanging stories of success and dreams yet to be fulfilled. It was such a familiar scene, a living painting of the eternal essence of Liyue, where tradition and the human spirit intertwined in perfect harmony.

And then, amid the bustle and music, Morax saw her. She danced with a natural grace, moving through the tumult of singers who raised their voices to exalt the god who dwelled in their hearts. With her skirts gathered in her fists, she twirled and glided around the circle with a unique fluidity. Her feet followed the vibrant rhythm of the music, while her lips never stopped smiling, reflecting a pure and contagious joy.

There was something magnetic about the way she moved; an energy that emanated not just from her body but also from her spirit. She laughed, completely immersed in the moment, and with every step, she conveyed a sense of freedom that the god had almost forgotten existed. She was not just dancing; she was alive, completely alive, and that vitality made everything around her pale in comparison.

Morax, who had witnessed countless rituals and festivities, found himself mesmerized by the simplicity of her happiness. She did not dance to worship a god, nor to be seen by others; she did it for herself, because in that moment, amid all the commotion and the lights of the floating lanterns, she felt whole. That sparkle in her eyes, that laughter rising above the music, was a reminder of what it truly meant to live.

A pang of nostalgia coursed through Morax's heart. Watching her, he felt that unknown impulse awaken within him once more. He wondered what it would feel like to be part of that ephemeral and fleeting world, where moments like this were the true eternity for mortals. And it was in that precise instant, as she laughed and twirled among the lights and the songs, that Morax understood his desire to know her was not mere curiosity. It was the yearning of a god weary of his immortality, seeking in the spark of a mortal the promise of something he had forgotten: the joy of living.

The beauty of that ephemeral being lay in what emanated from her soul. That was what he wished to believe, that was all he wanted to think about, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t so. She was a woman as beautiful as her soul; the way her smile contrasted with her lovely face, how her skin seemed to be kissed by the sun itself, and her hair, though dark as night, cascaded from the heavens over her shoulders.

To him, humans were not perfect, they never would be, because they were human, and their very nature led them to make mistakes. Morax knew this well; he had seen them fall, rise, and make the same mistake throughout the centuries. It was always repetitive cycles, time and again, with different faces and names, but the same underlying story.

In that instant, when his body moved towards the circle on impulse, and that dancing soul, for a moment as brief as a blink, immersed her body alongside his, he thought the exact opposite. At first glance, even seeing the fire of her soul shine so vibrantly, he found no flaw in her. It was not just her dance that enchanted him; it was the purity of every movement, the honesty of every laugh that escaped her lips.

Morax, invisible and unnoticed, allowed himself to be enveloped by the music and the songs, his energies brushing against the presence of that woman who radiated life in every turn. She danced without worrying about perfection, without seeking the approval of others, and that was what made her different. She moved because she felt it, because each step was an expression of her own essence, something so genuine and simple that Morax, the great god of contracts, found himself completely fascinated.

For the first time, he felt that a mortal could be more than just a fleeting being, and in that brief connection, Morax understood that perhaps mortality held a beauty that even millennia of divine wisdom could not reach.

The music reached its climax, and with it, the beautiful dance he was witnessing. The drums resonated powerfully, lifting the spirits of the crowd as the chants of the devoted filled the night air. The woman spun one last time, her skirts swirling around her like a flash of light in the gloom. Each step seemed synchronized with the very heartbeat of the earth, and her laughter intertwined with the choruses, creating a unique melody that captured the spirit of Liyue.

Morax watched her, his golden eyes fixed on every movement, every gesture, as if he were trying to decipher the enigma she represented. Now, with a curiosity burning in him like never before, he longed to know what offerings she had left him. Would they be as genuine as her smiles? As bright as the being emanating from her own essence? He wanted to know, he needed to know. But beyond simple curiosity, he felt an urgency to understand why his thoughts had strayed toward this particular mortal.

It was not natural for him to feel such curiosity about humanity; he had stopped feeling it years ago when his purpose as a protector and guide began to fade into the monotony of the centuries. He knew them all, had guided them through their worst moments, had fought for them and watched them thrive under his tutelage. Humans were predictable, their lives fleeting, and their actions so repetitive that Morax had ceased to be surprised by their gestures, their rites, their prayers.

“It's just a momentary attachment,” he told himself, trying to rationalize the fascination that overwhelmed him. “And like everything in this life, that feeling will fade away.”

However, as she stepped away from the circle of dancers, still smiling and with flushed cheeks from the effort, Morax could not take his eyes off her. There was something in her laughter, in her freedom, that challenged him to keep watching.

The god of contracts, who had always known every answer before it was even formulated, found himself for the first time without a clear explanation. And as the figure of the woman faded into the crowd, he realized that this time, his curiosity would not be so easily satisfied.

Longing to know more about her, he followed. His steps, though meticulous and silent, could not conceal his divine presence. She could feel it; that imposing and demanding energy sent shivers down her spine, but instead of feeling unsettled, she reveled in it. It was the same sensation that had engulfed her when the chant was coming to an end, that deep vibration in her soul connecting her to something beyond the earthly.

She approached a group of children who, with laughter full of joy, flew silk kites under the soft light of the Chinese lanterns. Their giggles mingled with the wind, and upon seeing her approach, the little ones quickly called out to her.

“Leilani, come! Join us!” they exclaimed, their voices brimming with enthusiasm.

“Leilani…” the god pronounced, savoring her name on his lips like a divine delicacy. The warmth of the sound, the sweetness and the meaning behind her name blossomed in his mind. “Leilani, celestial flower,” he repeated, this time more firmly, enjoying the sensation of knowing something so intimate and delicate about her.

But something unexpected happened. She stopped dead in her tracks. She hadn’t just heard her name once but twice, spoken with a voice that did not belong to any of those present. Leilani looked around, searching for the source of those words. Yet, she found no one. The children continued to play, the wind gently stirred the kites, but that voice, deep and laden with meaning, had no visible owner.

Confusion crossed her face for a moment, and in the depths of her mind, the same sensation of that powerful energy resurfaced. Her heart raced, and though she tried to dismiss the experience as a mere illusion, something inside her told her there was more behind those words. That there was something—or someone—watching her from a place she could not comprehend.

Morax, satisfied yet intrigued, watched calmly from his ethereal form. He savored the confusion in her eyes, but also the spark of curiosity now igniting within her. The connection between them had begun to weave itself, invisible and powerful, like the threads of a spider's web waiting for the moment to envelop them completely.

Ready to return to his divine realm, he decided on a hasty course of action, to walk alongside that young woman, brushing his skin against hers. “Warm, just as I thought,” he said to himself, noticing how she stopped short again when she felt his touch.

She shivered at the electric charge coursing through her body once more. It was gentle, as soft as a warm breeze in spring.

Ready to return to his divine kingdom, Morax chose to make an unexpected, almost impulsive decision, which was strange for someone of his nature. Driven by the curiosity that the young woman had awakened in his immortal soul, he walked beside her, so close that their energies intertwined, brushing her skin with his, like an intangible whisper that shouldn’t be felt but somehow was.

“Warm... just as I thought,” he murmured to himself, pleased to confirm the perception he had held since the very first moment. Not only did her soul shine with intensity, but even her physical presence, though limited by mortal nature, radiated that warmth he longed to touch.

Leilani, unaware of the nature of the being walking beside her, stopped again. This time, it wasn't her name that had paralyzed her, but the palpable sensation of something—or someone—that had brushed against her skin. Her body involuntarily shuddered, a small tremor coursing down her spine and traveling to the tips of her fingers, leaving an electric trace in its wake. It was gentle, as delicate as a warm breeze in the midst of spring, barely perceptible but powerful enough for her heart to beat faster.

Not fully understanding what was happening, Leilani brought a hand to her arm, where she had felt that touch, as if she wanted to make sure it hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. But had it? She stood still for a moment, looking around, hoping to find a logical explanation, some indication of what had transpired. However, the night continued, the lanterns illuminated the sky, and the laughter of the children echoed around her, as if the world had not changed at all.

But for her, something had changed. That sensation, that energy, lingered in the air, wrapping around her almost imperceptibly. It was neither painful nor bothersome, but it was disconcerting, as if a part of her was being watched, or worse yet, touched by something she could not see.

Morax, for his part, watched her reaction with interest. He had anticipated that shiver, that spark of surprise in her eyes. It was the natural result of such intimate and ethereal contact, something no mortal could fully comprehend. Yet, far from satiating his curiosity, that brief brush had awakened in him a deeper desire to know her. This was only the beginning.

“We shall meet again, sweet soul,” Morax whispered, letting his voice fade away like an echo in the night wind before ascending to the place to which he belonged, enveloped in the divine energy that characterized him.

Leilani held her breath. Something in that whisper had touched the depths of her being, but before she could process what had happened or even ask for an explanation, she felt the small, cheerful arms of the children wrap around her. Their laughter pulled her back to the reality of the present, momentarily dispelling the confusion she felt.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, we’ll let you use our kites!” they exclaimed with the same joy she had shared moments before during the dance.

Smiling, though with a slight confusion still lingering in her gaze, Leilani let the children's laughter guide her back to the festive surroundings. The sensation on her skin, the voice that had resonated in her mind—all seemed to fade away, but a part of her knew that something had changed. Unbeknownst to her, she had caught the attention of an immortal being.

© 2024 demensrage. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[yeetusthemighty]

So I got a little insane about Ninjago when I stayed up too late one night

[this is copy-pasted from my notes app]

So I was listening to lysergide daydream and then Christmas kids came along and I was reading a Ninjago fic when it happened and and what if they were normal. And ok? And like just were friends. Hanging out. Doing stupid bullshit together. And then like what if that’s what they all want at some level. What if they daydream about going on stupid camping trips and accidentally falling in the lake. What if they daydream about going to their favorite noodle restaurant and challenging each other to see who can eat the most bowls before throwing up?

What if Jay and Nya wish they could go watch a bad movie together and go to a greasy diner after? What if Zane and Pixal want to be able to do the same without getting weird looks everywhere they go? What if Lloyd wants to go to a normal school where he is rewarded for good behavior, and have his only worry be how he is going to finish an essay and science project by Friday? What if Cole wants to be able to go hiking in the woods and camp under the stars for a few nights, just because? What if Kai wants to spend a night out in Ninjago city where he doesn’t have to look down every alleyway he passes?

What if Lloyd finds a postcard in the rubble of a fallen building during the latest attack and longs so desperately that he and his friends could be the people in that photo that he keeps that postcard under his pillow every night after? What if Zane tries to join his friends outside one winter to enjoy the snow but has to lock himself in the basement of the monastery for hours afterward reminding himself of where he is? What if Jay can’t bring himself to go into antique stores because once he went to buy an old radio that his parents would’ve loved but one of the lamps in there looked a little too familiar, so he had to run out without it? What if Nya wants to go back to her favorite meditation spot at a waterfall but she can’t stand the sound of running water anymore because underneath it she can still hear those faint whispers calling her back home? What if Cole dreads when he goes to honor his mom on each Day of the Departed because every time he feels a little bit of himself silp away, and he is afraid that one day the last of him will go too? What if Kai doesn’t fully enjoy using his elemental powers anymore because something is different about them after he watched Aspheera use them to burn Ninjago city to the ground? What if Pixal realized that none of the nindroids shes ever met were able to live normally, so she secretly built another nindroid to give them that chance, but they were destroyed when the spider bombs went off, and that crushed her more than any of the ninja will ever know.

What if. 

What if. 

What if.

What if Zane can’t bring himself to go back to the crossroads because during his lookalike contest he realized that there were no Formlings, no ice fishers? Not even one of those helmets he can instantly recognize? And somehow the lack of anything there is so much worse than seeing them again ever was. Because it gives him a gut punch that leaves him hollow for days after. Because he knows that they know. That the things he did will forever be immortalized in the stories that they tell for generations to come. And that he sees the same hollow fear in Fritz’s eyes too?

Ugh ugh ugh 

Sopping. 

I’m gonna design them to cope.

Timestamp: 2:40AM

Never let me listen to songs at 2:00 in the morning ever again [this will happen again]

Erryck I don’t know if this is comprehensible or not but but like do you understand???

None of them are mentally well but they pretend they don’t care because none of them know how to cope with the loss of their chance at life.

[ersetu-gazette]

Celestial Warlock Zorian

My mind keeps on wandering to an idea of an au I had, not sure if this would be during specifically the time loop in MoL, or other time loops, but I love the idea of Zorian being recruited (read: extorted) by the angels to forever be an assistant to the time loops. A template is permanently created for the Sovereign gate that is created at the beginning of each loop. This is to give the main controller a friend across all loops, an advisor, and a resource to do the ethically ambiguous things that they can't do due to the contract. I'm not exactly sure how it would out, but I just really like the idea of a Zorian after being a loop copy escaping to the real world instead of circumventing punishment is forced into service by the angels, and this cynical, curious, and otherwise normal boy is forced to be the angel's lapdog. Basically a dynamic not too dissimilar from Celestial warlocks in d&d but the patrons are much more involved and controlling. In each loop Zorian is created whole cloth, with the angels visiting the real world before hand to set up ways for him to integrate into society like they prepared the Sulrothum in the book. He primarily spends a few loops getting used to the cover story and the new culture & time period he finds himself in and then approaches the main controller once they've properly adjusted to the loop. he's been giving orders to help them with everything but he has his own spite, reservations, and rebellions to this, exercising his free will whenever possible.

Zorian and the new controller getting closer together is never a question of if but how long, since they're the only two that will never lose awareness of the loops. It also is a point of tension if the controller empathizes with Zorian's permanent servitude or not. No matter what the controller will hide some of the joy and gratitude they have they'll have a permanent friend (Zorian's empathy powers make the attempts to hide useless) A couple of thoughts on how this could work: 1) Zorian is recruited after the events of Mother of Learning and is forced to be the advisor/guide/confidant of the next controller, but somehow the time loop is fucked up even more and he and the new protagonist have to scramble to fix/ survive this mess. This is with a new cast of characters in the future focusing on how the world modernizes and changes to cultural norms. 2) Zorian actually was recruited and existed before the events of MoL and inverses the dynamic of Zach and Zorian, where Zorian is the more experience time traveler of the two. Zach almost definitely harbors a puppy crush at the cool nerdy archmage in his corner and Zorian appreciates a controller that is more on his side than others. Zorian is initially suspicious of Jornak and Zach dissmisses it as jealousy. When Zorian thwarts Jornak's scheme Zach embarrassingly sits through an "I told you so lecture" (and maybe the two talk about why Zach assumed jealousy was the key motivator from Zorian). 3) Zorian's service is timeless and he's forced to be there for all loops, even in the ancient past. He has to be the assistant to Shutur-Tanara as a young person, and deals with the crisis of being there for so much ancient history. (Also in this version Shutur-Tanara is a trans woman. No reason specifically why but I think it'd be great if Zorian's main concern is trying to stop imperialism and colonization and his modern cultural norms meanwhile Shutur-Tanara's main thought's are "man I wish I was born a woman." Eventually when Zorian is educating her on modern concepts he mentions trans people and that catches Shutur's attention. ST: "Wait, that's a thing? What magic is needed to change my body?" ZK: "I will cover that later once you agree that conquering continents and colonizing other cultures are bad." ST: ". . . make me a woman and I'll try to listen with a more open mind.") Zorian also meets some of the eleven immortals and a young Quatch-Ichl who he ends up taking a partially mentor/parental role within the time loop. Idk, there's a lot in this idea that I'm really interested in and would be curious to hear everyone else's thoughts.

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

If You Like Piña Coladas

God-tiered Dave Strider keeps falling in love with his husband, mortal Karkat Vantas, over and over and over again

HAHAHAHAHA i wish i had the time to write this

I love the idea of Dave, after Karkat's first tragic passing, gets back into the game by going online to an anonymous forum. He meets someone that he instantly clicks with. They meet and to Dave's surprise - it's a reincarnated version of Karkat. Cue angst. Reconciliation. The good stuff. Dave marries Karkat again. Karkat dies again. Maybe more tragically this time - maybe terribly young.

Dave doesn't know until he gets the call.

Cue more angst. More hurt. Dave thinks that he threw away the only second chance he had. Fast forward a couple hundred of years. Dave meets a guy about to jump off a bridge. He saves the guy just in time. Surprise. It's Karkat.

Again, another reincarnation shtick. This Karkat has lived a painfully lonely life. For whatever reason, he just has shit luck. He's prone to really lashing out from whatever trauma that Dave has a fun time learning about. They get their shit together - together. They fall in love again.

Karkat lives until he's old and forgetful, a senile troll who keeps forgetting Dave's face but somehow knows that he's awfully in love with him. Dave is terrified that again, this might be his last chance. Karkat dies after confessing his love Dave for the third time that week.

Dave starts getting a little obsessed, wondering if there's a way to know - to track down Karkat when he's reborn. What if he could find Karkat sooner? Save Karkat from whatever misery? But he soon learns a new heartbreak. He does find Karkat, in high school and happily, fortouistously in love. He has a high school sweetheart. He's planning to propose. Dave walks away.

Decades pass. Dave finds Karkat at a playground. He's got a kid with him. It's his "descendant/grandchild" or whatever weird almagation of troll/human family norms. Dave appears markedly young for Karkat who looks in his mid fifties - or the equivalent for a troll. Dave misses him so much. They strike up a chat, waiting for the kids to finish playing. Karkat is a widower now - his spouse died about five years ago. Karkat misses them everyday. And Dave relates.

They share stories about their dead partners, the lives they lived together. Dave asks Karkat out for coffee. And Karkat feels stunned and shy that a hot, young guy would be into an old, fat man like him. Dave insists, and secretly starts to age himself up slowly year by year. Until he looks like Karkat's age, maybe a little older (because he's a bit petty).

After getting over the godhood reveal (and the reincarnation reveal), they get married again when Karkat's grand descendant is old enough to bear witness. They don't stay married for very long. And all too soon, Karkat passes on again.

Because this was a story about immortality, but really - sneakily, it's always a story about mortality - about every other happily wedded after. If someone is lucky, they die with their spouse. But in most stories, there's always someone who leaves first and what comes after. Dave joins the grieving widower support group that Karkat introduced him to. He listens. He learns.

Maybe he'll see Karkat again, some two-three hundred years down the line. Or maybe that was the last. Dave thinks that he's ready to not know. He understands Aradia a little better now.

Denoument - years and years down the line. There's a wall of photos, including the support group that Dave first joined. There's a new group now, full of entirely new faces. They wrap up their session and Dave closes up, whistling a slow tune.

Further down the street, a young troll picks up Dave's whistling. It seems familiar. He turns around and just before we get a description of his face - the story ends.

[ramayantika]

The Dancer Immortalized in Stone

Sshh.... Do not be startled, my friend. All of it is real but not terrifying. I am not the alluring spirit who shall lead you to your death. Did you forget that these ruins were once a part of a glorious temple?

Who am I?

I have forgotten my name. It's been a while. Nobody ever reached out to me. I am a stone now, but somehow alive. This stony body is decorated just how I used to decorate my body, warm and full of energy, full of life. I was beautiful, very beautiful when alive. There is a reason I was carved onto the walls of this temple.

Just call me narthaki. What does it mean?

It means a female dancer.

I just know I dance. I danced. I was a dancer. I will always be one.

You wear different clothes now. Do women not wear the clothes like my friends and I have worn in this temple?

No? Oh.

Do you dance? Do you love it?

I loved it too. Wait a moment. Why is that man ogling my body this way? I have never felt the urge to cover myself before. I am set in stone, but I can feel lusty eyes over my chest.

He is tracing his finger over my waist. Make it stop please? I don't like it.

Thanks for getting rid of that touchy man. I encountered some bad men back in my time too. They thought they could own my body, my art, my soul by complimenting my beauty and body. As if I would ever let them taint me.

Ah! You are imitating my dance posture. I remember the sculptor requesting me to model for him, so he could decorate the temple tower housing the Gods.

Stretch your left leg a little. Loosen your fingers as if they are tired. Look to the left sharply. Yes, that's it. See you are standing like me!

I wish I could dance again. What is it to dance now?

I am ethereal? Yes, thanks. The sculptor made me so.

What is dance, you ask? You said you are a dancer yourself. Why should I answer it then?

Fine, if you insist.

For me, dance has been equivalent to living. It is life adorned with music, stories and colourful garbs, each that is changed with time and with the onset of a new tale. As a woman, my dance, my art, is sacred. It is a part of Laasya, of the feminine counterpart of nritya. Fluid, sublime, playful and sensual.

You wistfully smile at the word sensual. Why so?

Oh.

Who says sensuality is bad? I see you rarely move your hips while performing movement.

What? They say it is coquette and the sensuality expressed shall bring lust?

When stories flow through the entire body, through every bone, every muscle, and every nerve; when music fills the blood, surrounds the senses, and you become one with the tale, your body a canvas for the story to be expressed, you must depict it completely with openness, dedication, love and passion. If you contain it, you do not become a true storyteller.

You look from a different time and Time always moves forward. How is that you your lot are so regressive?

What is 'classical'?

Dance is dance. It has been since the days of early men and women, finding movement to express themselves with Time slowly enhancing it, beautifying it. You do not bind it to rules of forced moral standards. You must embrace every story, every character, every music within you.

The later women dancers were forced to sell themselves and cheapen their art? They are now depicted as women who titillate?

No, they were all wrong. Dance can never be impure. It can never serve to only entertain the senses.

What dance do you do? I see my sisters in your eyes, who loved and longed for dance, for the love of art so much. You aren't a part of that dirty spectacle, are you? You know that I speak the truth. You understand my words. You understand us women, don't you.

'I am sorry. I do understand, you, your friends and sisters. So much time has passed and men wrote your history. Your art only served to serve the pleasurable senses, to arouse desire and lust in the audience. This is what they wrote. They don't write about the long arduous hours of practicing and perfecting movement and poetry. They did not write about the penance dancers took. I am sorry. We carry you and your history in us. It is only an essence, but the meaning has changed. There is still hope. There are people who truly understand what dance is, what you, me, us women dancers are and have been. We are your legacy, and I will try to live up to it.'

_XXXX-

Bye, I am hungry, kinda pissed off too because I am tired of seeing female dancers from the past and even now being seen as mere tools of entertainment. I am tired of this constant debate of purity in dance. I also have a test and maybe I was a dancer back in my previous birth or something because I visit old temples only to look at all the dancers immortalized in stone, and I hate how dancers, female dancers have always been pictured for beauty and body, and very less for their art and dedicated practice. Nritya tapasya hai.

Bye.

Tagging: @ramcharantitties @jukti-torko-golpo @alhad-si-simran @krishna-priyatama @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @houseofbreadpakoda @swayamev @rhysaka @aesthetic-aryavartik

(it's been a while since i have checked my taglist so sorry for not tagging everyone. Will check it and tag you all in my next works. I kinda also want to start a substack lol)

[mayullla]

Can I ask for 🌹🦋 platonic yandere with Venti?

Title: Neverland

Character(s): Venti (Genshin Impact) Summary: You always wanted to go to neverland, and you did. But when you wanted to return back home the flying boy did not want to let you go. Warnings/tags: Platonic yandere, fem!reader, kidnapping, slight manipulation

Note: This has been written with platonic yandere in mind but it is rather open-ended actually and up to the reader on what happened to Venti when you were gone and on what happened to you after. Venti is depicted to be a similar age as the reader (so if the reader is 7 years old Venti is like 2 or 3 years older.)

[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

You adored fairytales... You were young, after all, curious about the world inside the books. Magic that belongs only to books and not here. You were interested in fairytales like when the princess was captured and taken away to a tower only for a knight and shining armor to save her or a puppet that could not lie because if he does his nose would grow long or a story about a girl who once walked into a home that belonged to a family of 3 bears.

You loved those books but your favorite book, in particular, was about an immortal boy who could fly. It was obvious when you would jump on your bed hoping to fly up to the sky at one point or how you would watch your window for shadows or a boy that would one day show up and take you to neverland.

So when it finally happened, when you saw a young boy maybe similar to your age flying around your room with a small wisp by his side you didn't hesitate to accept his offer when he asked you to join him in Neverland. You didn't think about the people you were leaving, your parents or friends too caught up in the magic. Taking his hand when he promised you a world of mermaids, pirates, and a place you will never "grow up."

"Haha, how about it? Wanna join me to neverland? The place full of songs and laughter!"

You went to neverland and it was all you ever dreamed of as you played with the boy and his friends. Flying wherever you want, sleeping under the trees with other kids just like you, and seeing the prettiest mermaids that wave at you as you waved back. It was just so much fun.

"Yaa-hoo! Isn't this fun?"

But you were a child and in the end, you would miss your parents. Their hug and comfort, you just miss them and wish nothing but to go back.

"Ehhh, homesickness? What is that? You should instead help me make a tune! We are almost finished making that beautiful song, you know!"

"No, I took you to Neverland because I thought you would be with us, Me forever!" Venti, your friend, the boy who could fly and brought you here, refused to let you go, holding your hand tight.

His eyes were teary, lost as he looked straight at you. You didn't understand the madness in his eyes when the small boy looked at you but one thing is for certain was that you understood his words which only means that you could not see your parents and could only pout at the situation.

"We can go apple picking if you want! We can make apple cider, don't you love that drink? I have a secret that will make it extra yummy!"

You were stubborn, maybe too stubborn but all you want is to see your parents so when you find that first opportunity to finally leave neverland you took it. Leaving the place where you would never age back in the arms of your distraught parents who thought that they had forever lost you.

"Friend?.... Hey? Where are you?.... Why did you go back... You were supposed to be with me forever..."

You moved houses you parents could no longer live in that place where they have lost you... when you told them about your story and why you were gone. They didn't believe that you went to Neverland and thought that you somehow wore colored glasses that express a world that wasn't there when, in reality, you were only just kidnapped. Fear that this might happen again, they took you away.

Away from him.

You did not understand why they were so scared back then, yet later as you grew up you could only thank them for wanting to keep you safe.

You were an adult now, you got a new job and the pay was alright. It was a little far from your parent's home, but it was fine because you finally could move out and make a living for yourself.

Years have passed since that incident when you were young, and the memories have become foggy and a blur. You fell in love with someone and decided to marry. You have your own family and something to look forward to in your own reality.

"Found you."

Yet it seems that is not the case for everyone. A pair of eyes watching you as you grow older and older, wishing to give you what you want yet at the same time trying to hold himself back to drag you to his world again. He too, has aged as he continued to look for you in your world. His eyes, which were once clear glass-like innocence, now dark obsessive anger.

When you hear a knock on the window, do not open it. Your family may do so, but they would not find anything there. You yourself, tho mustn't for the moment you open the windows and let the wind it. You will leave nothing behind, but only your house slippers dragged back to Wonderland held by a boy whispering songs in your peaceful, tired sleep.

"My friend, you are finally in my arm! I am so glad that I finally caught you. Let's go back to Neverland alright?"

[sincerelyhannahx]

To celebrate Asexual Visibility Week (which Happy Asexual Visibility Week by the way omg), here is a list of characters who are now asexual because I said so:

Crowley and Aziraphale (Good Omens) I mean, this is basically canon for me already but their relationship genuinely means so much to me because it's not inherently romantic or sexual or even strictly platonic, they just have such a strong emotional bond and love each other in a way that I think could only be asexual. And being fairly new to my sexuality (not even a year yet) I really needed that. Maybe I don't want an allonormative relationship - maybe I just want what they have. Idk they're just really special to me.

Belle (Beauty and the Beast) Belle being ace removes the beastiality aspect of the story so I think this is best for everyone involved. (This goes for Tiana too, actually - ace!Tiana, let's go). But she literally fell in love with the Beast because of his personality alone after spending a long time getting to know him (and because of a library but ykw me too girlie). And it helps that I've had a strong attachment to Belle since like forever (I actually played her in a school production when I was 6).

Peter Pettigrew (Harry Potter) Right, so I do hate Peter and I wouldn't do this if I didn't have to, but omg he is so asexual. And definitely not saying that asexual people are going to betray and murder their best friends but I feel like not fitting in with his very allonormative group and maybe not even knowing what the term asexual means could be an interesting motivation for his actions. Peter feeling like he's broken somehow for not feeling what the others are feeling, thinking there must be something wrong with him since everyone else is falling in love, viewing himself as unloveable because platonic love isn't enough when everyone else has a brilliant romance, turning to the Dark Lord because he's been left behind but maybe this will fix him... and then losing that platonic love too and realising he didn't need fixing after all and his friends were enough, but now it's too late. So, anyway, ace!Peter makes me sad.

Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games) "There's never been anything romantic between Gale and me." This is 100% because Gale is a walking red flag but I'll take it as an aroace thing too. “Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me any time you feel like it.” The fact she didn't fall head-over-heels in love with Peeta as soon as he said this is honestly all the evidence I need. Also trying to act like you're madly in love with someone? I know it was for survival but, again, I'll take what I can get. "What I need is the dandelion in the spring... And only Peeta can give me that." This is not an allosexual relationship, I will not change my mind. Personally, I think Katniss is probably demisexual and I love her for that.

The Doctor (Doctor Who) If I had a nickel for every time David Tennant played an 'immortal' genderfluid asexual non-human who loves the stars and humanity, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice. But, yeah, the Doctor is asexual, that's just canon for me (and David Tennant said it too soooooooo).

Zoe Nightshade (Percy Jackson) The Hunters of Artemis are a sisterhood that requires you to swear off love and relations with men. Oh no, what a sacrifice! Come to think of it, she also has a connection to the stars - this is becoming a recurring thing.

Artemis, Athena, and Hestia (Greek Mythology) The fact there is a trio of asexual goddesses will never not make me so happy. In the Homeric Hymns, 5, To Aphrodite, Aphrodite is described as having "no power" over these three, which basically just confirms what everyone was already thinking. Artemis is quite literally the Maiden Goddess, who asks her father, Zeus, to forever remain a virgin and protect those who wish the same. Athena never took on any lovers (and in the Percy Jackson series, her children are conceived through her thoughts and born in the same way she was). And Hestia just wanted to be left alone with her hearth, also never marrying or having children.

Barbie (Barbie) "To do what?" Girlie literally has nothing going on down there (for the majority of the movie, idk what happened at the end) and doesn't understand why Ken wants to stay over because they're girlfriend boyfriend. The point of the Barbies is that they show women can be everything so, legally, no one can stop me saying she's an asexual icon.

Regulus Black (Harry Potter) I apologise to all the Jegulus stans out there but you can pry Regulus from my cold, dead hands. Asexual and Bi/Pan friendships are my absolute favourite (shout out to me and my bestie <3) and that is exactly what he's got with Pandora. Also, after Sirius was disowned, the responsibility of continuing the Black family line would fall to Regulus and that aroace pressure makes for some beautiful angst. And it means he's okay with sacrificing himself because at least he won't have to force a life he doesn't want. Why does the Marauders era always turn so sad so quickly?

Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows) Again with the Asexual and Bi/Pan friendships - I'm really just projecting myself and my best friend onto Inej and Nina, but who's going to stop me?

Elsa (Frozen) and Merida (Brave) Watch out, Disney; I'm coming for all of your princesses. I'm putting these two together because they could be asexual but I could also see them as lesbians - or maybe they're both.

Charlie Weasley (Harry Potter) He is the blueprint. Mum wants me to get married and settle down? Yeah, okay, but have you heard about dragons?

Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts) He is also the blueprint. Yeah, okay, but have you heard about every beast to ever exist ever?

I could keep going but I won't (for now). But honestly, we need more asexual characters in media because we're so underrepresented and it's such a serotonin boost. Like in S4 of Sex Education, I actively gasped and had such a big smile on my face when O came out as ace (at the representation, not the being forced to come out). Anyway, Happy Asexual Visibility Week!

[shouldaspunastory]

for @inquisimer and @dadrunkwriting

Elgaris "Elegy" Ingellvar x Lucanis Dellamorte (SFW, feat. Bellara, pre-relationship, pining), words 697

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Lucanis’s eyes trail over the page as Bellara is busying herself with the evening’s meal, finding himself grateful for the low light and warmth of the fire to hide the soft flush that comes to his cheeks. His mind drifting and filling in details between the lines, drifting further and further away from the protagonist Bellara has crafted, to the beautiful and intriguing young Mourn Watcher who leads and somehow holds them all together. Bellara’s writing, despite the elf’s modesty and lack of confidence in their skill, was better than some of the cheap romance serials he managed to snag and pour over between jobs, but this one… Even Spite, whose participation usually consists of needling and teasing Lucanis over his reading selections, or else taking turns of phrase far too literally, is silent as they pour over the new passage. 

Meirda.

Lucanis’s heart stops. The idea of such devotion and love, expressed in such a way… Those lines alone deserve so much more than the simple, crumpled, scribbled piece of paper they’re written on. More than publication, even. Immortality. This is the kind of love people spend their whole lives dreaming of, searching for. The kind he’s dreamed of, but given up the idea of ever having for himself as a Crow and with the Venatori thrusting him and Spite together. Something about the passage feels… warm, soft, familiar, in a way the assassin can’t quite put his finger on.

“I- don’t remember this from the last draft,” Lucanis manages softly.

“Which bit,” the elf asks over their shoulder as they carefully finish plating.

Lucanis flushes a little again, grateful for the elf’s inattention as he swallows and carefully reads aloud the lines which have affected him. “Teach me the language of love as your heart speaks it, and I will forget every word I’ve ever read or spoken, and make yours my native tongue.”

“Ah, darn,” Bellara laughs shyly, shaking her head as she glances over his shoulder to the lines he’s pointing to. “Yeah, it’s wonderful isn’t it,” the elf sighs wistfully with a smile. “Wish I could take credit for that.”

“You didn’t-”

“That, um, that was my contribution,” Elgaris offers shyly. Lucanis whips around, a little alarmed he’s been so thoroughly distracted they’ve somehow managed to take them by surprise with their entrance, before he’s distracted all over again by the sight of them where they stand in the doorway, golden skin and blonde hair glowing in the firelight, the faint lines of their tattoos peeking out from beneath the collar of their shirt and sleeves, soft lavender eyes slowly lifting to meet his.

In that moment, there is no language left to forget. Suddenly Lucanis doesn’t have any words at all. He cannot be certain if he’s been silent and staring for a few seconds, or hours, or that he’s even remembering to draw breaths.

“You’re beautiful,” Lucanis says softly before his mind has entirely caught up with his mouth. “Your- your writing,” he stammers, fighting down the furious heat that threatens to overtake his face as Spite cackles in amusement. “Your writing is beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Elgaris smiles softly.

“You know, you should write something together,” Bellara interjects, unintentionally breaking the spell of whatever it is that hangs between the pair of them. “You two always come up with the best lines to add to the romance serials I’ve written. I think maybe I’m going to stick to the mystery/crime serials,” the elf says thoughtfully.

“Maybe Neve could share some more of her stories with you for inspiration,” Elgaris replies, with an amused sideways glance to Lucanis.

“Ooh, do you think,” Bellara asks, eyes lighting up, her interest in their resident detective probably the Lighthouse’s worst kept secret. “Yeah. I- I’m gonna ask her after dinner.” Elgaris smiles softly, crossing the room to briefly rest a hand on Lucanis’s shoulder and offering it a gently squeeze.

“Coffee,” they ask softly as Bellara babbles, brainstorming aloud about what sort of adventures she might write about next.

“Yes, please,” Lucanis replies, hopefully not as breathless as he feels, unable to help but to melt a little into his chair beneath their touch.

[silverloreley]

I kind of want to read, kind of want to write...

A story about an immortal falling in love not with a teenager (we have enough of these) or a beautiful young woman, but with a mature woman or one who was never pretty in her life. A story in which he doesn't look young either (who said only youth is attractive?) and young women don't seem that good to him because they lack that light of life experience.

Maybe a story about a vampire who was turned while in his late forties pushing fifty who falls for the mid-fifties housewife with a terribly abusive husband she can't get away from and whose children are already gone from home and won't help her (they're too far, she was good at hiding until they left and it's easier now that they can't see, she's happy she saved them...), but a vampire is already damned, what's some adultery and murder to him? Or charming his way through the scum's workplace to find the right evidence of tax fraud so the shit can go to prison and she can file a quick divorce, the vamp doesn't mind...

Or a story about a deity who is tired of the world and meets this elderly woman who addresses them with kindness and reminds them the world has its ups and downs but love is everywhere, she knew it when her husband was alive and she knows it now, so the deity falls for her so hard and the pain of knowing their time can finish any minute rekindles their own love for the world. (and maybe they'll do their damn best to try to turn her immortal, she'd be one great goddess of wisdom, if only she wanted to...)

Perhaps a story about a demon who trades in souls and meets this short mafia boss lady who's so smart and cunning she managed to stay afloat in the underground for forty-something years after her father's death (no one dares to say her real age) and she's hardened and the demon thought it'd be easy to make her handle that tired soul that lost so much in all those little wars but no, she's willful and the way she smiles, crow's feet becoming so deep they look like war marks, makes the demon want to give his nonexistent soul to her instead.

What about a fairy former king (he long left his place to his son, he ruled far too long and it was time to step down) who doesn't bother to look young (who cares at that point?). He meets this spinster who brews the best beer ever and they say she's a witch, but it's just that her knowledge of plants rivals that of the fairy king himself, so he keeps challenging her, and the more she wins the more he thinks the marks of age and the ill-placed curves of her body and all the other things that make humans think she's ugly are instead the most wonderful things ever, that he found a treasure, but she's too wary and wise to fall for his promises, no matter how genuine they are, until...

Or even about a woman who was never told she was beautiful or even pretty, who felt out of place and undervalued her whole life long and maybe mistaken for one of her brothers from time to time, goes fishing alone one day and accidentally catches a merman (she's bulky and strong enough to hoist him up alone). The merman had seen women like her, with skin baked by the sun and scars from scuffles, often on pirate ships. Still, none had that kindness and frankness in her, so when she sets him free he's so fascinated he follows her home, and every time she goes out at sea he approaches her and tells her stories she never heard of and listens, really listens to her. He wishes so hard he could convince her to follow him down the sea without her thinking he's trying to drown her and even more so that she believes when he says he thinks she's the most incredible person he's ever met.

And if there was a story about a lawyer, who is tired because she fought all her life for everyone but herself (her career was her only pride), and she lost sight of a world beyond law books and grey buildings. Somehow, on her first vacation in far too long, she meets this forest spirit, old as balls, who looks like a tired grandpa who is ill because of pollution. She vows to save his forest from the industrial nightmare up the valley and while they work on it he falls for her so hard and yeah, she for him too, but his appearance depends on the health of the forest itself so he gets more and more handsome while she gets older and more tired and insecure until she doesn't go back in the forest anymore. But the fact she saved it granted her a wish she didn't collect so the spirit cashes it for her and shares his life with her. And maybe she's upset because he got handsome but she stays as normal as she ever was even if the wish makes her seem healthier, but the spirit finds her so perfect she learns to love herself at last.

Just... stories like these. Where do I find them?

[blackfilmmakers]

I pirated wish & the movie was just so mid. The concept art look more finish then the actual movie. Asha wasn’t really adorkable as people was complaining about since they saw how she acted in the trailers but rather she have no personality to me. The choices made in the movie was dumb like Asha asking for her grandfather’s wish to be granted during an interview. It was like asking for a raise during an interview for a job. And the king showing how the wishing process work make his look foolish until they had her be an apprentice already. Also I’m sure the whole kingdom would knows that not everyone wishes will be granted since Asha’s grandfather is 100 and still hadn’t gotten his wish granted which would also apply that the king is way older then he look since it was stated he built the kingdom. They could had made him want to keep the wishes to keep him immortal. And it suffer from show don’t tell cause people losing their wish doesn’t really affect them nor did anyone seem miserable in the movie until the king turn evil. It would had been cool to see them lose their creativity. Plus even if you forget your wish once you gave it to the king, won’t your family and friends remember it cause I bet you would tell them what you wish for. It would also had been interesting for as the person change so do their wishes which would reflect to something else different then what they originally wish for when they was 18. That way the king can keep an eye on his subjects since the wish show what’s in their heart. And I wish they based Asha on Tiana since they both lost their fathers and it could show Asha processing it still through being a great apprentice and seeing the king as a father figure so that when he show his true colors, it would make Asha feel like she lost another father figure. She rarely ever mention him and we don’t even get to see his face or any flashback. And I wish they kept the villain couple and star being a star boy because star wasn’t even important since it only made animals and plants talk . I wish they added the romance in the movie for Asha, considering Disney don’t do romance that much in movies but that have been happening just as they starting putting more girl of colors in lead who deserve to see themselves desire. Wish just felt like it failed black girl and black women again like they did with princess and the frog except worse because instead of turning Asha into an animal, they didn’t make her into a character at all.

It really was a nothing movie wasn't it?

I hate that Disney chose to do this with a Black princess once again, because they refuse to turn back to 2D again

They just somehow managed to be more lazy with her design and background heritage, and worldbuilding ontop of it

And then they have the nerve to say Wish isn't doing so well, because they made the mistake of pandering to the 'snowflakes' and focused more on representation rather than story

Like no yall just suck, and you didn't represent anyone in this story. Not the Amazigh, not Spanish people, not disabled people(according to some mutuals that pointed out Dahilia's cane isn't designed properly, and she walks like an abled-bodied person using a cane), not animators

I can't even see Asha having a love interest, because she just doesn't have a personality. Ontop of concept art pointing out that human Star was meant to look like her grandfather. But in terms of romance in the story, the concept of "love conquers all" used for the villain couple? That I could get behind

Supposedly, the reason they didn't go with this is because studios didn't want the monarchy to look bad? Skill issue, but anyways hmmm almost sounds like this could be an easy fix by making Asha a princess