#I realize those aren’t the songs’ names but you get the idea

[tawneybel]

The second time I watched Skinamarink, I realized the “I’m a Frizzly, Grizzly Bear” song was the ‘30 equivalent of “I’m a Gummy Bear.” 

[chaoticbardlady99]

Could I request a fluff fic for Astarion falling for a tav reader who's a bard and an amazing singer? Maybe he can't sleep, so he goes for a walk and finds reader singing to themselves, and he sits and listens, slowly realizing how hard he's fallen for them?

Thank you so much for putting this in my inbox! I hope you enjoy!

Astarion x GN! Bard Reader

I used the songs Nobody Knows Me At All by the Weepies and Iris by the Goo Goo Dolls because I am a cliche.

  The moon glows brilliantly throughout the night sky and the stars don’t seem to realize how lucky they are that they don’t have to deal with feelings and masters and all the other terrible side effects of being a person. 

 In spite of his name sake, Astarion does not have the luxury of being blissfully unaware of the horrors life has to offer. It didn't bother him so much- he took each terrible thing as it came and rolled with the punches. Whatever it takes to keep him alive until the next day- it’s essentially his life motto. 

  Another thing stars aren’t burdened with- the need for rest. 

 Traversing into the Shadow Cursed Lands is the last thing Astarion wants to be doing and while he was already worried for himself, he found he has an entirely other worry weighing heavily on him. 

 Where in the hells are they? He thinks, its been an hour and a half now since they wandered off! 

 He is trying to not be so clingy and weird- you don’t seem to mind his company and his overbearing ness, but the others had been teasing him and he was rather sore about it. 

 They called him a lovesick bat amongst other things and he is not lovesick. You are a means to an end, nothing more and nothing less. Granted, no one else needs to know that.

 Sleep continues to elude him as he waits impatiently to hear your footsteps walking back into camp or your scent to come rolling over him from the breeze.

  It’s probably only been 30-45 minutes- realistically- but Astarion has found himself becoming very preoccupied and aware of your safety. 

 You are a squishy mortal- your heart needs to beat and you need to breathe or he will lose you and he can’t fathom the idea of not having you by his side.

 His idle feet drag him to the forest, no longer able to sit and wait for you to make a reappearance.

 I just need to make sure they are safe, he thinks, because otherwise I am not sure they would keep me in the group- yeah! That’s why I’m doing this. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

 While most feel terrified of the darkness of the wilderness at night, he feels comforted and engulfed in it. He loves the sun, but unfortunately, at the end of the day, he is still a creature of the night and that is where he technically belongs.

 He supposes that’s another worry he’s had lately- an intrusive thought really- but what happens when this journey ends? You and the others assured him that they will free him from Cazador forever- Astarion even became a bit emotional when Gale said, “and he won’t find you alone!” when Astarion brought up the dangers of keeping him in the group. 

 You have rallied around him this whole time and stuck your neck out for him more often than not. The two of you have indulged in each other and been enjoying each other’s company, but right now he’s here and you may just not be attracted to the others.

 What happens when everyone gets back to Baldur’s Gate? He’s seen you in pubs before and playing so the bar goers can stay on tune with the singer. You have your own little following of people who crave your attention and while you have told him it all makes you uncomfortable- those people would be a far more appropriate life match for you than a Vampire. 

 Astarion’s ears droop on their own at the thought. He thought he got out of the childish elven habit of slouching his ears long ago when Cazador beat it out of him- you seemed to have brushed off some of the vines. It’s like old parts of a factory are slowly being restored and as it is, he finds pieces of himself he subconsciously knew were there, but are new to him again. 

 For example- he loves a good practical joke just for good fun. He bought a cushion of sorts from Mol and put it where Lae’zel sits- covered with a blanket. She sat down on the log for her watch as quite literally everyone was sitting down to eat dinner. He fell off his seat he was laughing so hard- it was worth being chased up and down a few trees. 

 He also enjoys dancing for fun- you dragged him around the fire during the night of the Tiefling party and taught him more informal dancing and less of the stuffy shit Cazador forces him to partake in. You growled at anyone who tried to cut in- it was rather funny.

 You are also quite the fan of the occasional shenanigan and he finds himself smiling at the memory of your baby hairs stuck to your sweat slicked skin as he kept watch for guards while you graffitied Vlaakith’s painting or when you waved at her instead of bowing.

 Life is fun with you- he forgot why people enjoy being alive so much outside of not feeling ravenous all the time. He feels alive with you and the idea of you and him never seeing each other again for your entire life scares him. He doesn’t want to stumble upon an obituary some time in the future and ‘remember’ the person who saved him.

 He wants to be at your side and it terrifies him, but it would be worse to be away from you.

 Feelings- it’s disgusting and he does not like it. 

 Your scent becomes stronger on a more beaten path and he feels his alarm bells going off- jolting in the direction he believes you are and praying that every God actually hears him as he silently begs for you to be safe. 

  Your melodic voice and the sound of the babbling brook melts the worry in his body. Astarion’s pace slows slightly and he feels that annoying warm glow spread through his body. 

  You are sitting near the bank with your laundry in hand- Scratch and the Owlbear cub are laying down together nearby, one of the pup’s ears upright to hear any intruders. 

 It brings him some comfort that you have Scratch and the little cub- he isn’t sure he would fuck with an Owlbear Cub or approach a Bard with a bewitching voice calling out into the night like a Harpy’s song.

 “When I was a child

 Everybody smiled

No-body knows me at allllll

 Very late at night and in the morning light

  Nobody knows me at all

 I got lots of friends, yes, but then again- nobody knows me at all-“

 You stop suddenly and stare up at the moon and Astarion is completely enraptured with you and your singing. He feels charmed and he is entirely okay with it. 

“I suppose that’s not necessarily true,” you say softly, picking at the grass and smiling to yourself. 

 Oh your smile- he feels himself slowly melt into the grass like a smitten school boy and his own grin dances across his lips. 

 They are talking about you, the thoughts sends shocks of happiness and twinges of guilt, your plan worked.

 He should be thrilled, but he could honestly give a shit less. He is too busy listening.

 “And I’d give up forever to touch you

 Cause I know that you feel me somehow

 You’re the closest to heaven, that I’ll ever be

And I don’t wanna go home right now.”

 If his heart beat it would be pounding in his chest right now. 

 Your face is so relaxed, but he adores the furrow of your brow as you concentrate on hitting all the right chords and remembering the lyrics.  The song is beautiful but he is certain it’s only because you are the one singing it. Anyone else singing a love song would make him feel nauseated. 

 Astarion feels centuries of heaviness roll off his body with every note and sweet omission of trust. 

 He is hypnotized by your lovely fingers plucking the chords and he feels the ghost of your hand in his- you had taken it in your hand while everyone walked through the forest. Your hand had felt perfect in his own and he felt like a young, giddy, new person again. You always make him feel like that though lately. 

 “And I don’t want the world to see me

 Cause I don’t think that they’d understand

When everything’s meant to be broken

 I just want you to know who I am.”

  Astarion had lost all hope- truly lost it all- before the Mindflayers had kidnapped him. He felt more hopeful once he landed on the beach, but that hope was also laced with overwhelming fear. 

 Lately, he has been more present in his day to day. He is happy and full most days. He wakes up near you or to the sound of your laugh instead of the screams of his siblings or angry commands from Cazador or being yanked out of bed by either Cazador or Godey to be dragged off to the Kennels or Gods only knows where. 

 Astarion has actually been trancing for four hours straight without interruption these days and he even fell asleep a couple of times- his body finally feeling safe enough to completely shut down for a while. He woke up feeling stronger than ever and your heartbeat echoing through his ribs. 

 You had been more than happy to let him share your tent at night after he had barged into your tent after a particularly bad trance. It had been shortly after killing Nere in the Underdark and before entering the Crèche. He has basically been sleeping there every night since and he gets to enjoy your company- and all to himself!

 You with your wild morning hair and sleep ridden breath- it’s a gift he has never been given before. Astarion is grateful for every morning he has gotten to wake up next to you and you are alive- so vulnerable and warm with sleep. 

 He adores the way you tiredly blink at him as you become more aware of the world. You have begun to leave a sleepy kiss on his lips in the morning and he finds himself looking forward to it; and the mornings you forget, he steals a lazy morning kiss from you. It’s like Gale and his coffee, he can’t start his day anymore without that first kiss in the mornings. 

 You continue to sing- your voice strong and full of passion. Happy tears make your eyes glimmer and sparkle under the moonlight and for once, he doesn’t hate being a creature of the night because you make nighttime seem ethereal and lovely; enchanting and whimsical; a luxury to witness. Astarion is positive you could make even the most dingy corners of the world look beautiful from blessing it with your presence alone. 

 You finish your song and he decides he cannot take being away from you for another moment longer so he backtracks just a bit.

“Darling?” He calls out with a fake worried voice, “are you okay?”

“I’m over here!”

 With a big, stupid grin on his face, he half skips half walks over to your spot under the tree.

 You are delightfully rosy with blush and your eyes light up upon seeing him- Astarion doesn’t think that will ever get old. You are the first person to ever genuinely be happy to see him and he laps it up like Scratch drinks water after he has a fit of zoomies. 

“I am so grateful it’s you singing- I began to feel charmed and feared the worst!”

 You roll your eyes at his comment, but smile widely anyway and put your luteto the side, taking his outstretched hand. 

“I am so glad you find my singing appealing,” you say breathlessly, “I will have to work harder to truly charm you next time.” 

“Oh- you may consider me thoroughly charmed, my Sweet,” he presses a kiss to your forehead and you giggle, “anymore and I might become your Thraul.”

“That wouldn’t be good at all!” You exclaim, “you would agree with me on everything and it would be terrible!”

 Astarion throws his head back with laughter- it’s not even all that funny, but the way you embrace his personality and find it enjoyable fills him with so much joy. 

 You pull him out under the moonlight and he cocks an eyebrow at you- you respond with a cheeky grin.

 “Magistrate Ancunín,” you say sweetly with a bow, “I thought I might have seen you across the dance floor this evening.”

 Astarion smiles, “Ah! Your highness- how lovely it is to see you, my Dear. I was so hoping you may be here tonight- everyone else is so dreadfully dull, as you already know.”

“Believe me,” you roll your eyes and wave your hand, “none of them find my jokes or my stories entertaining.”

“Perish the thought!” He puts a hand to his chest in faux surprise, “They should all be sentenced to death!”

 Your eyes widen for a moment before you snort and join in.

“I so agree,” you snap your fingers, “there- it’s all been magically taken care of. I am the most powerful Highness known to the realms, after all.”

“Oh your majesty,” he pretends to be on the verge of feinting, “no one has ever done something so wonderfully romantic like this for me before- however can I repay you?”

“You could repay me by giving me this dance?”

 He hears your heartbeat race slightly and you look a bit nervous. It’s such a bizarre thing for you to feel. Of course he will dance with you. It would be criminal not to.

 Taking your hand- he pulls you to him and wraps your arms around his neck. His fingers greedily cling to your hips as you sway together back and forth. 

 You hum as the two of you have your foreheads pressed together and your eyes closed- the only individuals privy to the moment being the moon and the sleeping animals. 

 Astarion appreciates how your voice always reflects your feelings- the happiness in your tune is pleasant to his sensitive ears. 

 Eventually it’s the sound of the river that you both sway to and he barely catches your sentence.

“I am surprised you came looking for me,” you say with a yawn, “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

 He shakes his head, “I couldn’t.”

“Bad trance?”

“Something like that,” he quickly tries to change the subject, “why are you still awake?”

“I wasn’t able to sleep and decided I wanted to enjoy the moon and the ability to sing so freely,” you sigh, “Gods only knows when we’ll see it again.”

 Astarion hums in agreement- taking your callused hands in his and tracing the line of your hands. This seems to help you relax and it does bring him quite a bit of happiness to be able to help you relax as much as you help him. 

“I- I am really scared,” you look up at him with tears in your eyes, “I’m scared to go into the Shadow Cursed Lands. I have heard the stories and the lands are haunted by the cursed dead- people who had lives- who had stories.

“I am scared I could end up joining them,” your lower lip quivers so adorably, but he doesn’t like the words you are saying at all, “if I make one wrong move or we all get separated-“

“Stop,” he says, his voice thick and his chest heavy with an emotion he can’t identify, “I won’t allow that to happen. I can assure you that you will be rather irritated with me by the time we kill Ketheric- I don’t think I will be able to allow you to be out of arm’s reach.”

 He says it, but the actual reality of the comment doesn’t hit him until a couple seconds later. 

 Fuck.

 You smile brilliantly at him, “I hope you are ready for the same treatment.”

“I would be offended if you didn’t!”

“Well, we certainly can’t have that!”

 You lean forward and leave a kiss on his lips that takes his breath away- he follows you as you pull away, not ready to be without your lips on his. Astarion smiles against your mouth when your breath hitches- he loves that sound.

 And he is terrified to lose you.  

 Astarion fucked up his own plan- well okay, not really, but he did kind of. You have fallen for him, that much is obvious, but he was never supposed to fall for you! 

  The swaying continues- even as your body becomes heavier and heavier with sleepiness, Astarion feels like he’s dreaming and also simultaneously having a nightmare.

 He needs to rid himself of these feelings before they become all consuming- before he goes and does something stupid. 

 Maybe I give myself some space- sleep in my tent tonight? His chest tightens and he cannot breathe,  no, that won’t work. I- I don’t want to do that. I could push them away- get them to break things off with me.

 That thought makes him feel even more ill. Being near you brings happiness, comfort, and warmth- even when he is feeling extremely confused and uncomfortable with his feelings towards you. 

 You see the pieces of him he doesn’t often let others see and instead of despising him, you smile at his jokes. You laugh the loudest out of everyone- even at the jokes that maybe don’t deserve it. You are patient when he is grumpy, unreasonable, and rude. 

 You have become important to him- more important than he ever intended for you to be.

“Let’s go back to camp,” you say with a large yawn, “I need a little bit of sleep- we have a hell of a journey ahead.”

 Astarion helps you pick up your things and he carries your bag for you. You hold his other hand and you both chat as if you have spent years together rather than mere weeks- both of you grinning from ear to ear.

 You eventually wind up in each other’s embrace in your tent and you are snoring softly. Always making music as he likes to say. 

 The nighttime eventually pulls him back into his own trance, but this time, his trance is filled with happy memories of your adventures together with every melody you have ever sung prancing through his head.

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (1)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Puppy, (see premise post or series)

Summary: An ultra-shy man named Grant arrives with various friends to your family-owned motel. He opens up slowly over the months...and grows a fantastic beard. 🤭

While this part has no mature situations, this series will be 18+ only. MINORS DNI. This is mostly pure setup for the smut in every future chapter. Your media consumption is your responsibility; please choose for yourself if these matters trigger you. If so, there is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this work is not it! WC ~2k

He first arrives with only his friend—two fit fellas, one white, one black. They pay in cash, share a double room. The most information you get is Tom Smith, the more open of the two, joking that you’ll have to excuse Grant’s shyness.

Grant doesn’t seem to respond to his own name.

He’s a beefy blond, and your impression is the man doesn’t need to have a lot going on up top to get by in life. You do try not to judge, though. Your job is more about keen observation and recognizing the needs of your guests.

These two guests need privacy. They aren’t unfriendly, but they are not chatty. They go as quickly as they came. One night. The room is slept in, but they were clean enough.

The next time they show up they need three rooms, but you only have two available. Tom and Grant bunk up again, and a couple are with them who do not come into the office. The woman has beautiful auburn hair that she covers with a ball cap, and her very tall beau—whose hand she holds—shields himself in far more clothing than necessary this time of year.

They all sleep (you assume) during the day and only socialize at night when the other guests aren’t around.

Not that the party is loud; they simply seem more at ease when it’s harder to see. They stay three or four days, leaving rather suddenly early one night after paying for the time already.

Sporadically, this continues.

Once it’s only the couple. She is very reserved and he is very awkward, but again nice enough. They stay for nearly two weeks, enjoying hikes in the area, always holding hands. The woman relaxes significantly. It’s quite lovely to see.

Mister and Misses Durham, you know them as. They don’t always respond by name either.

Another visit makes five guests with the addition of a beautiful young woman. Her hair is cropped and bleach blond, and she is by far the most at ease.

It’s this visit that you realize they are just staying in their rooms during the day not sleeping, and you find the karaoke machine to take to Tom’s room.

He’s thrilled, thank goodness, because you don’t normally offer up activities to those who don’t ask about them, but Tom bangs on the doors of the other two (you think) couples so they can join him.

You’re about to leave when he asks you to do a duet with him.

Grant throws out that Tom enjoys Marvin Gaye. It’s the most you’ve heard him say, ever.

“I do,” Tom agrees, “but I don’t mess with the master.”

So you have the idea to sing Marvin Gaye—the song—with Tom as Charlie Puth and you as Meghan Trainor.

It’s quite a lot of fun, belting as best you can, finding Grant’s intense gaze on you for the lyrics:  I’m like a stray without a home… I’m like a dog without a bone…

Just as quickly, however, you have to go back to the front desk. Duty calls and all.

You make sure they know the machine is all theirs for as long as they want. Their rooms are too far down the line of the building to hear if they do enjoy it for long, but you get no complaints about noise. You hope for the best.

Later that night, Grant comes by the office, carrying the machine with a smirk on his face and the most genuine appreciation on his lips. He has a lovely deep voice you never knew about.

He just talks to you.

It’s all superficial conversation about the area, the weather, what activities you like on your days off, but even that seems a struggle for him.

Tom was not kidding. His friend is extremely shy. He has trouble thinking up casual questions. He can’t look you in the eye until responding, and he doesn’t give more than a few words in answer to anything.

You laugh--you have to—when Grant asks if he can walk you to your door, which…is ludicrous because you live in the house a whopping fifty meters past the main motel. Your family has owned and run this place for three generations. You’ve walked that path your whole life.

“I like walking,” he shrugs, though from the sheer muscles on him, he does way more than just walk. “I was gonna do a lap or two anyway.”

“Well, I have to wait for Clark to show up, but—“ you look him up and down “—okay.”

Grant is so sweet but so stiff. He holds himself with purpose when actively thinking, but you catch him having these distant moments. He withers like a violet, a shell that’s too small for his big body. He seems lost and lonely.

You’re glad to do whatever keeps him company. Your goal for the night is to make Grant smile as much as humanly possible, but that’s difficult when he won’t let you know anything about him.

Twenty minutes later, Clark, a local stoner kid who hardly looks up from his phone, waltzes in, stepping around Grant like a wall that’s always been there and throwing a “hey, man” out with zero regard for a response. Classic Clark. That’s why he’s on night shifts.

So you grab your bag and let Grant hold the door open for you.

Maybe you’ve been watching the Durhams too much when they come around, but you feel a compulsion to hold his hand. You don’t, obviously, because you only just heard this guy speak for the first time today. It would also be incredibly awkward to hold Grant’s hand in the dead silence that follows on your way up the gravel path.

You’re so consumed by figuring out what to say next that you don’t notice till the beast is right there.

An elk walks right in front of you, taller than Grant. From this angle the animal blocks the entire view of your house it’s so big, and you jump back, slamming into your startled escort’s chest.

You both freeze as it moves slowly at a diagonal to the other side of woods, bringing it and its gigantic horns closer still.

It squawks like some sort of awful banshee and stamps huge hoofs. You throw your weight backward and spin to flee, clambering over Grant’s body.

Why you’re so scared, who knows; you should be used to the wildlife, but no creature has ever done this before.

The most shocking thing, however, is how strongly Grant tries to hold you immobile.

The harsh grip on your waist and the way he hisses through his teeth for you to stop should be your hint, but instead you cling to him harder, asking quietly if the animal is gone.

“Uh…” Grant tenses against you. “It’s…it’s just—“ he shudders when you wriggle “—yes, gone,” he bites out, pushing you away by the hips.

He takes a second to breathe, buries his hands in his pockets, and leans forward, gathering himself.

It was scary. That could have turned nasty very quickly. You were lucky Grant was there and calm…except he was sorta the reason you were distracted in the first place.

Finally composed, he sighs and motions forward. “Let’s get you home.”

Two months later, Grant’s initial five o’clock shadow has come in nicely.

You’ve learned the routine of their check-in. There’s only one room available, unfortunately, but if they stay more than two days, there should be another open.

Tom shrugs and offers a playful, “we’ll see. We go where the wind takes us.” He smooths his palm over a fresh fade at his nape and the sharp angles of his goatee.

“And you, I see, have stopped in for a cut with Terrence in town. He loves the three slices like that.” That's how the barber marks his work. Terrence's shop is very popular.

“It’s a good signature. Wish I could'a convinced this big lug to get a trim.” Tom elbows his friend who stares at his feet.

Grant runs his fingers through his golden locks and swallows. “Yeah, well, maybe next time.”

Without realizing what you’re doing, you stand on the rungs of your stool behind the counter and reach for his lusciously full beard.

“Don’t you dare get rid of this,” you chide, fingertips grazing the skin of his cheek beneath the course yet soft hairs.

You should apologize. You should let go and sit back down. You should professionally hand them their key and be done with it, but instead, you linger, watching his blue eyes darken with a primal devastation.

He’s prey caught in a cage.

You release Grant’s face with an awkward laugh and a shake of your head.

Tom makes his own, very knowing face, and winks.

“You should do that more. Touch him. He could use it.”

Grant clears his throat harshly and blushes, mumbling something about which room number you said they had and that he’ll bring the other bags from the car. He leaves. Tom takes the keys with another wink and a sassy tap on the hardwood.

“Thank ya, ma’am. We appreciate it.”

It’s about twenty minutes later when your pen rolls off the edge of the counter, you find a small duffle left where Grant stood.

“He was joking. It was a joke,” Grant blurts when he finds you standing there to give it back.

You just smile and say Tom isn’t wrong.

“So, if you ever just want a hug…” you mutter, taking a chance to scratch at his bearded chin again. “Not like you’re gonna hurt me.”

He looks back inside, as if seeking permission or checking to make sure his friend is still in the bathroom, singing in the shower.

Grant can’t seem to meet you halfway, but he does inch forward, struggling to word a simple ‘yes.’

The tentative embrace starts with only the top of his chest touching you, bent so his butt is out, no pressure on his hands at your shoulders, so you push a little more and a little more. You get close enough he needs to wrap his arms around you instead. He has to stand straight so his chin doesn’t poke your forehead. He whimpers slightly when your own arms encircle his tiny waist.

A few breaths later, he relaxes into a lovely full-body hug, his rough fingertips on your bare skin where your shirt bunched up. You’re both being human, no more, no less, tangled in simple comfort.

Grant tucks his face into your collarbone suddenly and squeezes, not so hard that it hurts but not gently either. The move tickles you with his beard, your hands pawing up his back as you giggle, and he whines like wounded prey.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you soothe. “I can be here, if you want, to hold. It’s okay.”

That has the opposite effect you intended, knocking him out of some soft reverie and launching him back a foot, a necessary but unwelcome distance.

Grant looks guilty, needy, and resigned as he thanks you for returning the bag and sees you out the door.

dividers by cafekitsune and firefly-graphics

A/N: This will be the shortest (probably) of all the parts, and yeah, we get into some smuttier moments pretty quickly... Stay tuned!

[Next Part: Sweet Baby]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[sixosix]

END NOTE | THAWED

a little love letter to my readers

to start off, i know that the series is based off the entire reputation album, but i like to think that this whole series was written around call it what you want.

how it started LMFAOOO

This was previously titled ‘melt’ before i was like ‘nah ill make it, like, thaw” and earthtooz went, “Thawed?” little did earth know,, that name would literally take over my docs,,, my tags,,, my ENTIRE account

A message to my readers: From the bottomest bottom of my heart, if you have reached this series until the very end, thank you so, so much for reading. Read that sentence again. And again, until you realize how grateful I truly am as a writer. Thawed is such a big project that I still can’t believe I was able to even start. I genuinely never thought it would garner this much attention, and in all honestly, I was intimidated by it, because I had no idea what I was doing, and I was afraid I would disappoint.

This entire project was intimidating, and I considered so many times to just drop it and end it on chapter five. I struggled so badly to write after I introduced the characters, and I thought: “well, that’s it. I guess it was fun.” I even told my friends that I would do that; and yet 14 chapters later, look at where we are now 😭

Writing it was so exhausting. Working on a series while studying as a student really makes it difficult to remember details about my own story T__T I had to reread Thawed so many times to the point where I don’t even like it anymore.

But I know the reason why I decided to continue it! It sounds so horribly cliche, but it’s true. It’s thanks to all your overwhelming support :( Each ask, comment, reblog—they all fueled me more than you think. All those replies of even incoherent gibberish made me realize that, ‘hey, someone read it and liked it enough to send an ask about it. Maybe I am doing something right!!!!’

some thawed extras for readers who are interested

If you haven’t noticed, the chapter titles aren’t actually accurately about the chapter. Those titles were taken from the songs in the Reputation album, in order. And the chapters are loosely based around them!

reputation is, like, widely known as the edgy album from taylor, but in reality its such a big love letter and i know that other people noticed that, too! i think it’s very fitting to the story of thawed: it’s dark and messy, but at the end of the day, it’s a love story. do you get what i mean hehe. i hope that’s how the series came across…

im sorry if aether doesnt appear in the last chapter :( in my head, mc is coming home. and by then i dont think aether would be in fontaine at all! but rest assured they definitely have met up twice or thrice while in the other regions heehee. Also aether will ofc be there for their weeding. 🙏

i have nothing much else to say aside from thank you for reading! i hope u enjoyed thawed as much as i did

[sugar-crash]

🏎️Turbo (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader🏁

(First Date Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine)

(Request here! This song is getting popular all of sudden for some reason?? Like I’m glad it’s getting the recognition it deserves it just surprises me how quick songs get popular. Already brushed upon this idea but getting into deeper detail is something I’m all for ngl)

- Again he’s not much of a date guy, not wanting to put much effort into anything, having the idea that just because you guys are a thing now he doesn’t need to... He’s an idiot if I haven’t established that fact enough.

- He eventually gets it through his thick skull that doing nothing romantic with you is unacceptable and slowly attempts to be more of a boyfriend and not some guy you hang out with and kiss in private.

- Dates with him even after his “mind-bending epiphany”, there’s an effort now but it’s executed in a very lax manner, like getting you some food after hours and chatting with you while sitting on the roof of his kart.

- I think sometimes dates are either planned or rather spontaneous in a “may as well” kind of way, like, you’re here, he’s here, date time.

- His stubborn nature tends to make him insist on having dates in either his own or older games for the sake of being somewhere familiar… This is understandable but he never frames it that way, calling a game you suggest you guys go to as “brainless” among other things.

- He takes great pride in his game so it’s one of his main hang-out spots, usually orbiting around the idea of simply staying in Turbo Time and showing off his large and ever-growing display of trophies to you for the umpteenth time.

- That cocky part of his personality lets itself known during your dates… Honestly lets it be known in general so not much of a difference, except he’s trying to get your attention rather than other people.

- A more covert part of himself yearns for your approval, seeking it whenever the chance arises, he realizes dates give him a reason to get it. Becoming more keen with the concept as he gets your undivided attention.

- I think the first official date between you two was in Turbo Time, again not a very romantic one but there was an effort and he expects to be rewarded for it, kisses are acceptable payment.

- Bring some food with him so you two aren’t just sitting there doing absolutely nothing… It’s kinda awkward at first because you two are just eating in silence for like a good minute before someone breaks the ice and that innate ability to talk about stupid things between the two of you is activated.

It probably ends with you guys kissing in his kart, a surprisingly pleasant end that is quickly ruined when a smug look makes its way onto his face and you have to push his face away with a scoff.

- Has a tendency to belittle anything else you have planned that doesn’t include him, calling them inherently stupid under the guise of a joke… A very unfunny joke.

- He’s a bit (really) toxic if that hasn’t been hammered in already, having the ugly habit of only thinking about himself and what others could do to help him.

- You’re no exception, taking him a while to adjust to having to think about you and what you may think about something, with those dates being a good example of that.

- His downright horrid perspective is baffling and shows you how this guy was created to be a winner, just not a noble one.

- Talking about winners, I think he calls himself as such when talking about your relationship, especially after this special date and high off of the emotions it warranted from him.

- That date specifically is the start of an era between the two of you, really puts things into perspective for Turbo— That now he isn’t as invincible as he originally thought, that there’s things beyond just winning.

- It wasn’t about winning in the first place, it simply gave him what he craved the second he got the taste of it when his game got its La first-ever quarters by a gamer whose name has been long since forgotten to him, power.

- Those attempts I think in a way give him this idea that “following the program” is something he doesn’t need to follow, he’s Turbo— And having a relationship with someone so… Different to him is something his programming was initially opposed against, only for it to work for you two… For the most part.

- He’s Turbo and can do whatever he wants with you by his side, whether his intentions for the natural order of things around him are good or not.

(Kv fvb lcly aopur aoha aol nhtl johyhjalyz pu Dyljr-Pa Yhswo kylht vm zvtlaopun tvyl iba ulcly cvpjl pa?)

[lomlhwa]

pre-workout (k.mg)

pairing: idol bf!mingyu x non-idol gf!reader

preview: mingyu works out everyday because his fans love his muscles. but today, he's lacking enough energy to want to go. so he asks you for some.... pre-workout.

tags/warnings: fem reader, established relationship, morning sex, somnophilia, oral (fem. receiving), mingyu is all over you at 7:00am, praise, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), uprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: the somno is consented with a bracelet which is explicitly mentioned.

wc: 956

song recs for this fic: playboy by exo, sexuality by taemin, drip by superm, touchin' by kang daniel

a/n: i'm literally so sorry for how short this is, i ran out of ideas and wanted this out of my drafts. but to make it better, everyone picture those insta pictures of mingyu for this fic. i know you know what i'm talking about.

saying that your boyfriend is strong is a massive understatement. he gets up to go to the gym every morning before dance practice and recordings. on top of his work outs, the dance practices make him stronger too. at this point, he could probably bench press you with one arm.

today, as per usual, mingyu wakes up to his alarm blaring on the nightstand. 6:45am. time for him to get up, have a bite to eat and go to the gym. you react only slightly to the alarm, rolling away from the sound.

today feels different, however. he doesn't want to go to the gym, which is unusual for him. he basically lives in the gym. but today, he really doesn't want to get out of bed. the softness of the blanket really keeps him from wanting to rise. 

nonetheless, he forces himself to get up and change into his workout clothes. he takes his pre-workout powder with some water. his nose scrunches at the bitterness. 

he walks back to your shared bedroom to see you sleeping oh so peacefully on your shared bed. your chest rises and falls at a steady pace. you stir a little, rolling over. the blanket wrapped around you falls off your lower abdomen. 

he lets his eyes travel down to see that you’d stripped yourself of your shorts in the middle of the night. his eyes travel to spot them on the floor. he finally realizes that this is what was keeping him here. 

you.

he walks over to the bed and peeks onto your wrists. he’s relieved and thrilled when he sees the thin, silver bracelet clasped on your arm. the item confirming consent to being woken up with some… affection from your boyfriend.

he carefully rolls you over onto your back, unraveling you from the blanket in the process. he takes in the soft supple skin of your legs and waist. he brushes his hands over your body, just soft enough to not wake you. 

he tugs your panties down your legs, placing them on the side table. he lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your knees apart. he slithers down the bed until he comes face to face with your core.

he blows cold air onto your core and goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. he sighs at the sight of your sleeping body laid out for him to take and use. the bracelet on your wrist is always an instant turn on for him.

his tongue rolls out of his mouth and slides between your folds. he loves eating you so much. the way your nerves twinge, the soft gasps that leave your beautiful lips, the way you shift around trying to get away. 

he swirls his tongue around your clit, a high pitched whine leaving your throat. you’re still not awake, but you’re starting to come to consciousness. he grips your thighs to make sure they stay open as he becomes more aggressive in his sucking and licking. 

your eyes flutter open and glide down to make eye contact with your boyfriend’s wet face. “good morning, honey,” he says in between licks. your back immediately arches, another whine leaving you. “fffuck, good morning gyu.”

he smiles against your core before slurping at your weeping hole. “sleep well?” you nod, your high creeping up on you every second. “why aren’t you at t-the gym? it’s almost 8:00am,” he just chuckles against you, not bothering to answer.

a couple more licks and slurps and you’re tumbling over the edge. your hands fly down to grip his hair as he kisses your core to help you through it. he gets up and wipes his mouth, smiling at your shaky frame.

“please, gyu. need your cock, too,” you beg. there’s no way he could say no to your pretty pleas. he rids himself of his shorts and briefs, stroking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance.

he shoves into you, groaning immediately at the contact. his hands find purchase on your waist as he sets a steady pace thrusting into you. the sounds of skin slapping and shared moans fill the room. the headboard even begins banging against the wall. your neighbors will surely be complaining later.

gasps leave you as your hands wrap around his wrists. your nails leave crescent shaped marks in the skin of his forearm. you clench and unclench around him rapidly as your second high approaches.

“g-gonna cum, gyu, fuck,” your eyes roll back as he picks up the pace. “please, cum inside me, baby,” you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“gonna give you my cum, sweetheart. you’re so good for me,” he kisses you gently in contrast to his merciless pace inside you. his lips move softly against yours, capturing your rapid breaths.

finally, the chord in your abdomen snaps. you shake and your hips stutter, grinding into him subconsciously. you hold his head to yours, keeping his lips against yours as he continues to pump into you. he bites your bottom lip as he spills into you.

“fuck, i love you, honey,” he kisses you a few times more before pulling out. he wipes you clean with a tissue from the box next to your head. he tosses them in the trash. 

“i’m gonna go to the gym now. you helped me up my energy. sleep some more, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead. he slides your panties back up your legs. he pulls the blanket over you and tucks you in. 

you slowly fall back into a light slumber. the soft buzz of pleasure coursing through you keeps you calm. nothing is better than waking up to your boyfriend’s love and affection. 

© lomlhwa 2023

taglist: @imzambee

[chaotic-mystery]

WHERE YOU LEFT ME

Pairing: Frankie Morales x reader

Summary: You meet Frankie for a date and reminisce about your relationship.

Content Warnings: MAJOR character death. No movie AU but fuck Tom. This is overall angst heavy and please take care of yourself. Grief & loss, sadness, memories, I think that’s it? It’s just overall a bittersweet and tragically lovesick story. There’s no physical descriptions of reader other than wearing a black dress at one point and having hair that tickles Frankie’s nose. no y/n used

Authors Note: hello my babies I am finally dropping this. It’s been an idea I had for months and I almost scrapped it but then I thought, no! Post it anyway! So here we go. It’s heavily inspired by Tim McGraw by Taylor Swift but it’s not required to listen to it to read the story. (Although if you’re like me and love a good cry, i recommend listening) I’ll meet you at the end of this with tissues and candy, okay? 🩵 thank you @pr0ximamidnight for beta reading this for me and I’m sorry for making you sob. || wc: 1.3k|| beautiful divider by @/saradika-graphics 🩵

“Hi honey, I missed you. Hope you aren’t too mad I’m runnin’ late.”

You smile and sit next to Frankie on the ground right on top of the red picnic blanket, food spread out from corner to corner. The assortment of favorite sweets and dishes makes you smile harder, getting comfortable right next to him.

“Finally went out shopping today for the first time in a while. I hadn’t seen my friends in so long, I’m surprised they answered when I offered to go out. We took the backroads home and it reminded me of when your truck used to get stuck back in high school, those long ass nights we should’ve been home studying but you wanted to go for a drive. You’d take us out to the lake and dance with me. Remember that? It was fun before my dad caught us and chased us back to the truck.”

You giggle and rest against him, blinking a few times as a breeze of cold and crisp October air rushes by you. Licking your lips, you continue.

“I found a note from years ago when I was looking for those one pair of shoes you know I hate wearing, the ones I have to wear when-”

You cut yourself off, not wanting to bring up that day. Not yet.

Pulling the folded piece of lined paper out of your coat pocket, you sniffle from the chilly weather and begin to read aloud the note. “This was from the day you were shipping out for basic and god was I pissed at you. We woke up and realized summer was gone, we were adults.”

“Frankie, when you read this you’ll probably be on the way to Texas, and I’ll be in Georgia, right where you left me. I told your mama I’d write to you every chance I got, and I mean that. That also means when I’m mad at you for leaving. I hope when you’re lying awake in your cot at night, you look up and our song starts to play, that one Tim McGraw song. You remember what I was wearing, the perfume embedded in my skin, the way my hair tickled your nose when you’d hug me.

By no means is this a goodbye letter. I’m in it forever with you, Frankie. I want you to come back home safely so we can start the family we’ve always wanted. Why did you have to leave me? Why was this the best solution for us? We were making it, we were fine. We were good. I was happy with our little apartment and my shitty 9-5 job while you worked on cars. Promise me you’ll come home safe. I need you here with me.

I love you endlessly, you have no idea. You make it hard to be mad when I remember how you’d tell me my eyes put the stars to shame every time I looked at you. That’s still a lie to this day. I’m already counting down the days until you’re back with me and I thought it would somehow make it easier but it doesn’t. I’ll be waiting right here for you, wearing that little black dress you love so much.

We’ll start our family and get that house on the outskirts of town like you told me we would. I already have dog names picked out for the dog we’re gonna adopt too.

P.s. the ring doesn’t have to be too expensive.

Love you always.”

Taking a deep breath in, you wipe your tears on your corduroy brown pants, looking around at all the people walking by in the distance. Grabbing a green grape from the plate next to your leg, you chew it up and rest back against your hands, the soft blanket shielding you from the cold ground.

“I got a new job a few months ago, I forgot to tell you. I'm in HR now which is fun. I get to listen to people complain about who ate whose lunch, hire more clowns who hope to climb the social ladder, that kind of thing. It has its good and bad days. Honestly though, it makes me forget about all the shit I have going on in my head. I get to focus on everyone else but myself for a day. I know, I know, an office job?”

You sit up straight and cross your legs before continuing.

“I needed something to pay the bills and I couldn’t stay a waitress forever. The tips were good but I couldn’t afford our apartment on that alone. Robert still calls me from time to time asking if I want a Friday night shift. I didn’t think he’d remember how I used to love those. You’d come in after being with Santi and Ben all day and want beers while you stayed until we closed, always wanting to be near me with what little time we did have. Just seeing you sitting on that barstool watching college football, eating those disgusting cheese sticks was enough to make me keep going for the night.”

And it was.

Frankie being there when he was off duty meant a lot to you.

You kneel down in front of him and you can feel the tears pricking your eyes once more as your scarf blows to the right a little.

“I left a note on your mama’s porch the other day. I know she doesn’t live there anymore but I just, it was the first time I’d gone back to your street since, ya know. By now I’m sure you know what I wrote in it, but just in case you don't. I hope you still think about me when you think Tim McGraw. It’ll bring you back to that place of us out there by the lake with my head on your chest, dancing all night like two lovesick teenagers. I hope it makes you happy, Frankie. I hope you know it means everything to me, still. After all these years.”

You finally crack and break down, leaning your forehead on the picnic blanket, the tears soaking into the fabric immediately. Muffled and choked out sobs leap from your lips and you clutch your throat, trying to calm yourself down enough to breathe.

“I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to you, Frankie. You left me here with n-nothing.” You fiddle with your fingers and rub the spot on your ring finger where a ring should be sitting. Yet only a faint line from the ring Frankie won you out of a quarter machine was left. It didn’t feel right wearing it without him so you gave it back on that terrible day in September when the entire month seemed flooded out by tears. You tucked it right in his jacket pocket before you left.

That was the worst day of your life.

You sigh deeply and touch the cold granite headstone, the smallest picture of Frankie looking back at you.

“I love you so much. I’ll be back tomorrow to change your flowers. It’s my first winter without you here and I can’t stop thinking about how cold you must be, baby. I wish you were back in our apartment in my arms how you used to let me hold you.”

Laying down until your face was pressed against the ground, you sniffle again and whimper out as you think about him being cold.

“Frankie, I'm so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t get you out of that wooden box. I hope wherever you are in the universe, you’re safe and warm and can feel all the love I still have for you. There’s just too much left over and I’m not sure what to do with it, honey. What do I do with it? What do I do with all this love that was supposed to last us forever?”

You never did get the ring but you got an endless supply of memories from knowing him and loving him. Truly loving him.

You curl up into a little ball and hold yourself while you continue to cry, twiddling a leaf between your fingers. Eventually the whimpers turned into soft and broken hums of that one Tim McGraw song.

Hugs and kisses and tissues are complimentary 💚

[queer-geordie-nerd]

"That spring in 1971 I was in second grade high school. Suddenly, politics or what we thought was politics, stopped being so boring. In a delayed, faint echo of the 1968 movement in the West, revolutionary ideas were making their way towards our forgotten little corner of the world. Suddenly, every walk back home from school became slightly dangerous. People were gathering in the streets, shouting “We want democracy” and “Stop totalitarianism!” and “We want reforms” and “Liberty for all political prisoners.” Every day there were fights in the streets of Zagreb, with the police brutally attacking protesting students.

At home my parents were contemplating signing petitions for the liberation of dissident writers imprisoned because of their political views. Since they had been imprisoned themselves by the Communist regime, they were always very cautious about any protest. “Stay away from politics,” was their main advice. Before the events of 1971 there was no need for that advice since I didn’t have any interest in politics anyway. Who cared about those boring Communist politicians, all in their ill-fitting grey suits, indistinguishable one from the other, talking in a language that put you to sleep as soon as you heard it!

But all at once and without warning, everything changed. What was happening in the streets was real and exciting. I desperately wanted to be a part of it. We, the kids, were, of course, automatically and unquestionably, on the side of the protesters. We were, of course, against the police who were beating the demonstrating students. We were, of course, against totalitarianism and pro democracy. There were no dilemmas. We were all for freedom.

But things in the Balkans are never black and white. As they aren’t anywhere in the world, we would learn later.

The pro-democracy protests included another element that wasn’t too obvious to a second-grade high school student. Not only were the students requesting democratic reforms; they were also questioning the federal structure of Yugoslavia, asking for more autonomy for each republic, in this case Croatia. I went to a student meeting, my cheeks burning with newly-discovered political passion. I was puzzled when I realized that the meeting was being held in a Catholic church and that one of the speakers was a Catholic priest. Hm….

Since the beginning of my life I had listened to passionate anti-religious rants at home. My mother would get physically sick inside churches; my father was an outspoken communist who loved to quote Marx’s sentence about religion being the opium of the people; my grandmother thanked the priest who chased her away from the Church, thus saving her life. So now, wanting to join the exciting political movement, I was suddenly faced with the other constituting element of that movement: religion. And, yet another one: nation. I didn’t know anything about either. As for nationality: I was a Yugoslav. That’s what I would write in all my documents. Yes, we lived in the republic of Croatia, but I saw it as an administrative category, something to do with the general organization of the state of Yugoslavia. We did learn about the existence of different ethnicities at school, but I didn’t feel it affected me in any way. I saw any discussion about nationality as something regressive and belonging to the uneducated peasant masses.

We were taught (and I was totally buying it) that our society had triumphed over all those destructive forces from the past, forces that had killed millions of people in the last war, that had set up concentration camps and slaughtered children in the name of ethnic purity. Who would ever want to go back to those “dark times?” It turned out: almost everybody.

At that students’ meeting in the church there was no discussion of freedom and democratic reforms. To my absolute horror, I heard students singing songs from the Second World War, songs sung by the Ustashas, the Croatian Fascists who had killed my Jewish grandfather. “Zovi, samo zovi” (“Call us”) was a battle song of the Ustashas. Why were these exciting young people with glowing eyes singing it? I couldn’t understand it. I ran out of the church, scared."

- Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In the World

[mutable-manifestation]

Summer Vacation Summoning Shenanigans Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

***

“D- shit!" Red cursed, leaping to catch him judging by the suddenly much-closer voice and the arms now cradling his head and shoulders to keep them off of the floor. "Steph!" 

"Names~!" Spoiler sing-songed.

"We were going to have him wear the sensory suppression helmet!"

"Well, this worked just fine didn't it?" Danny hears a sloshing noise - probably the recapped chloroform bottle getting twirled.

"No." Robin deadpanned. "The timeframe of his unconsciousness will not be sufficient to reach the batcave and we will need the helmet anyway."

"Pppshaw," Spoiler dismisses. "The last time any of you guys checked the time it was, what, when you were proving you weren't secretly cult maniacs by showing him those news articles? Between then and when he wakes up he won't have any way to tell how long he was out. As long as he can't see the entrance by the time he's up it'll be fiiiine."

"You will also have damaged what trust we had thus far been able to build with him, likely setting back our investigation and thus both our ability to interfere with the League of Assassins and to help Danny himself," came Robin's scathing reply.

"...ah."

"We're wasting time," Red sighed, moving to sling Danny over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, judged by the shoulder now jamming into his stomach. "Thank you, Spoiler, for volunteering to drag the captive. Robin, doors."

There was a lot of boredom after that, mostly just listening to the three shuffling around and hearing some kind of hissing noise that he assumed was a hi-tech door or something, given everything he'd seen so far.

Then they were moving, and Danny realized he had no idea how long he should pretend to still be out. 

Luckily, just as he was debating playing 'waking up' the group stopped, Robin commenting it would be best to be stationary when he awoke to increase the time he might suspect had passed.

After being carefully propped up against a wall, he counts to thirty before letting his breathing return to normal, slowly opening his eyes.

He looks to Spoiler - kidnapped assassin slung over her shoulder - first.

“I’m gonna be real,” he starts before anyone else tries to speak. “I think something might be wrong with your perfume.”

Spoiler snorts and Red’s lips twitch in a suppressed smile, but Robin remains stoic.

“That was not perfume,” he says carefully. “It was a mild sedative, so that we could further obscure the location of the batcave. Perfumes are generally incapable of causing unconsciousness.”

“If no perfume: why smell good?”

Spoiler bursts into cackles at that, Red making a strangled noise between a cough and a laugh and slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Please do not attempt to use or offer chloroform to others to use as a perfume, it is a highly unsafe chemical and can be fatal,” Robin says, brows pinched into a vaguely concerned expression.

“Aw,” Danny pouts dramatically.

Red clears his throat.

“Spoiler is very sorry for springing that on you,” he starts, with a pointed look her way. “We had intended to talk to you about the need for another layer of obfuscation around our security.”

“Yep!” Spoiler grins. “From the bottom of my heart, my bad.”

Danny lays a hand over his chest, using the other to wipe away an imaginary tear as he chokes out “Of course I forgive you!”

Then he snorts, dropping his hands to lounge in his pockets.

“So now that you’ve taken me to a secondary, and a tertiary, and a…um - quadrertiatry? - location, which way are we going?” He makes a point to look back the way they came.

They’re quick to correct him, leading the way through the tunnels at a more sedate pace - a fast walk instead of the running from before.

They claim to be half way there by the time he wakes up  - they definitely aren’t. It takes a solid 30 more minutes.

At least now that Danny is ‘awake’ they’re talking again - mainly about Spoiler’s questionable taste in ‘perfume’ and whether or not it would be safe for any of the aliens they know to use as perfume - a very sneaky way for Danny to acquire more knowledge of alien biology, if he does say so himself.

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

Given their track record for getting along, everyone had been worried when Tim and Damian went missing at the same time. Sure, Damian had gotten a lot less murdery over the course of the last four years, but the worry was still there. 

When it turned out to be a self-imposed mission to Nanda Parbat they had worried even more. Unfortunately, no one else had been able to leave Gotham. By the time they could’ve caught up they would have been more likely to draw unwanted attention to their two strays than be of use.

Luckily, they’d managed to put the Riddler away that night, making it back to the cave just in time to receive Tim’s update - a success and a surprise guest.

A guest that, as far as they could tell, did not exist. 

No paper trail, no pictures, no appearances in any images or even audios as far as they could tell. Expanding beyond Illinois to the US in general didn’t turn up anything. A global search yielded yet another heaping helping of nothing.

There were some possible explanations, of course, but it was decidedly suspicious.

Any hope that the three had escaped unnoticed were dashed when they were over the pacific and the local branch of the League of Assassins began moving obviously enough for Oracle to detect them - branching throughout the city and posting up on various vantage points in some kind of search grid.

One group even made their way to Wayne Manor, posting up around the perimeter.

All in full view of cameras. 

One even waved. 

For a group like the League it was verging on something like polite. 

Or threatening. 

The utter lack of activity from any of them once they reached their apparent destinations put the latter option somewhat in doubt, however.

Even so, the situation was plenty alarming and Bruce had everyone arming themselves to the teeth while they waited and listened - not that Jason needed any encouragement even if he was still pouty about the lack of guns in the Bat-armory. 

Nightwing, being the loving older brother that he was, was quick to offer him a rubber band hornet to supplement his existing guns. He was immediately betrayed, narrowly dodging a projectile to the cheek.

Bruce had contacted the JLD about the situation not a second after the kid - Danny - said Ra’s was trying to summon the Lord of the Dead. 

Didn’t have to be deep into the occult to know that that was undoubtedly a very bad thing to allow to happen. 

With any luck, whatever ritual Ra’s was trying to use would be faulty and they would have more time to intervene and prevent him from finding something that would work.

Of course, to know that they needed to know what the circle actually looked like.

Good news: the kid saw the circle and seems to have a great memory.

Bad news: the kid set a condition for the knowledge and would not be swayed.

Good news: they personally know several aliens willing to help.

Bad news: literally every member of the JLD is ungodly hard to get ahold of at the best of times.

Good news: they managed to contact Constantine on the third try.

Bad news: he seemed very concerned by Bruce’s explanation of the situation.

Good news: he wanted to show up right away to help.

Bad (and worrying) news: he is currently too drunk to teleport. Or be awake, if the sudden snoring through the line is any indication.

So now Bruce is tracking his location and sending Supes to pick him up on the way so he can wait to sober up in the cave’s medbay.

Possibly for the best - given how talkative Danny was on the plane over Constantine might’ve lost it waiting for him to stop asking all the questions he’ll no doubt have.

Just another hour of playing suspiciously-polite-staredown with a murder cult and they might be able to get some answers.

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

Damian watched Danny watch the door to the cave open in fascination, eyes alight with joy. Enthusiasm.

It was a large part of what made the plane-ride with him so much less distressing; normally being in a closed space with someone who’d taken a recent dip in a Lazarus Pit would be…exhausting. Manageable, perhaps, but requiring constant attention to avoid potential - likely - harm.

Any concern about erratic, violent behavior practically melted away in the face of Danny’s attitude.

His exuberant curiosity. 

The zest for life that colored each and every word he said or expression he made.

In combination with the skill he must have to have escaped imprisonment by the league? His sharp mind (even if he did occasionally lack information that should be common knowledge - Damian himself had been much the same when he first came to live with his father, he would not judge him for that)? The strong negotiation skills he had demonstrated in their talk? His unflinching will?

His beauty?

Damian was captivated.

He watched as he gasped like it was the last air he would ever breathe when he laid eyes on the T-rex, causing everyone else to tense up.

Then he moved - nearly too fast to track - before slowing back down when he was within a foot or two of the dinosaur - and many feet off of the ground. That certainly supported the sheltered meta theory.

“You guys have a dinosaur in here!?” he yelled, flitting around it in a manner not unlike a hummingbird. “That’s so cool! Is it real? Or like, not real because it obviously isn’t alive but is it, like, taxidermed - taxiderm-y-ed? Or is it a replica? Or-”

“Animatronic, actually,” Father cut in, drawing his attention. 

“It moves!?”

“It used to. We keep it shut down for safety reasons, however.”

“Aww, boo,” Danny pouted, snorting at some unknown joke as he descended back to the ground.

“It’s nice to meet you, Danny. Though I do wish it were under better circumstances,” Father gestured to the table near the batcomputer - where the rest of them had gathered to wait - before moving that way.

“It could be worse,” Danny shrugged, following after - still floating.

Halfway to the table, Danny gasped again, this time accompanied by a small blue mist.

His head snapped to Jason - fast enough Damian was vaguely concerned for his neck - and paused to stare owlishly at him.

A glance revealed him to be visibly bristling at the attention, every muscle tense.

“These are my associates,” Batman cut in before anything unfortunate could be said. “You’ve met Red Robin, Spoiler, and Robin. This is-”

“Red Hood,” Jason cut him off. “And we ‘associate’ barely.”

“I’m Nightwing!” Richard shouted, one arm waving in the air for emphasis. “And I can totally fly!”

“Grappling hooks don’t count,” Hood shot down.

“They do so!”

Hood just stared

“Orphan,” Cass interrupted, as brief as ever.

“I’m Signal,” Duke added, making the last introduction. “And I’d hate to see circumstances worse than being hunted by a globally active death cult made up of highly trained assassins.”

“Hunted?” Red Robin asked, straightening up at the new information. 

“Most likely,” Batman answered as Danny finally joined them around the table - still stealing glances at Hood. Damian frowned.

“Not long after you left Nanda Parbat, the local branch of the League began moving - their assassins have posted up throughout the city - and around our perimeter. They’re being subtle enough to avoid civilian attention, but they waved directly at our cameras. Normally we’d assume they were after the assassin we brought here, but Ra’s is normally more direct than this. He would’ve called, tried to negotiate, or just sent in men to retrieve him. That he hasn’t is unusual-”

“Which is why we suspect he’s still after you,” Spoiler added as she rejoined them, having gone to secure the prisoner.

“Spoiler!” Nightwing scolded.

“Whaaaat? It’s already obvious. No point in hiding it when the guy’s already been kidnapped once.”

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

Danny hmmed.

“It comes to me that if your group is so well known, saying I’m ‘flying away with a pair of Robins’ is maybe, possibly, potentially not the incredibly vague and unhelpful clue I thought it was.”

He rubbed at the back of his neck, laughing sheepishly as all eyes whipped around to stare at him. 

“Ahaha… my bad?”

“Danny.” Batman asked after a pause. “Who, exactly, did you give this ‘clue’ to?”

“Uh…Ra’s?”

“Wh- How!? We’ve been with you the whole time since we met!” Red Robin asked.

“I just sent a duplicate,” He shrugged, splitting off a duplicate and popping it after a three-count.

“Sorry about that.”

“The fuck kid? Why the hell would you give hints about your location to a guy who wants to murder you,” Red Hood fumed, standing to slam his hands on the table.

“That will cost you two meetings with aliens,” he winked, putting a finger to his lips.

“That’s quite a high price considering you only asked for one meeting to learn the supposed summoning circle for the Lord of the Dead.”

Danny spun around at the unfamiliar voice, only to be met with Superman. He gaped.

“Sorry for the delay, I’m Superman, Kryptonian alien extraordinaire,” he topped off the introduction with a dramatic bow before landing gently on the ground. 

“I hear you have a lot of questions for me,” he smiles, holding up a hand when Danny opens his mouth to reply. “But first, I believe you promised my friends a summoning circle?”

Danny pouts.

“Yeah, I did,” he sighs, turning to Batman. “Got a pen and paper?”

___________________________________________________________

Tag: @bathildaburp @cannibalisticphantom @thegatorsgoose @skulld3mort-1fan @starmee-lodurrson @jotaroslooseeyebrowhair @sometimesthingsfallapart @osnii @coruscateselene @jaytriesstuff @seraphinedemort @ver-444 @impulsiveasshole @meira-3919 @apointlessbox @gunebugfic @starsblader4rise @screamingtofillthevoid @may-rbi @tired-yet-awaken @readerzj @lazy-bouqet @the-church-grimm @astirdreaming @bun-fish @punderfulfandoms @ispyblu @phoenixdemonqueen @cutelittlebeanie @we-ezer @treepainting @jerithe @all-eyes-no-dragon @addie-lover-of-stories @overtherose @akavincent @nappinginhell @naluforever3 @icepopstar5105us @itsloveleo @spooky-fm @undead-essence @nutcase8691 @promptingwips @zelabee @vythika96 @escelia @heartsong18 @gin2212 @ballzfrog @farmercale @ introvert-even-on-the-internet @jaggedheart11 @coruscateselene @snekullent

[spacerhapsody]

It has recently come to light that my deepest, darkest (Digimon) fandom secret is that I didn’t always ship Taito, and @hazelestelle was kind/curious enough to ask the following question in that shipping ask game:

18. A ship you never thought you would ship but do.

Buckle up, kids, because it’s time for a (long) trip down memory lane.

The year is 2002, and after about a year of exploring the internet via small guestbooks and messaging boards, someone finally pointed me towards the central German anime site. And while I think I had seen a couple of people publishing their own stories online and had written one or two myself, I hadn’t realized before that the concept of fanfic was a whole thing, let alone how much of it there was out there.

I also didn’t know yet that you could properly ship things that aren’t canon. Back then, I thought Yamto and Sora were really cute together (probably I mostly thought Yamato was the coolest person ever and was using Sora to heavily project onto), and apparently so did other people, because I easily found and read quite a few stories about them.

Now what you have to remember is that tags or any kind of useful sorting system just wasn’t a thing back then, which is how I ended up with a sliiightly different story, but I didn’t know that yet.

The fic was labeled with all kinds of warning – but I had absolutely no idea what any of those words meant. I’d only just discovered that Taichi and Yamato were Tai and Matt’s Japanese/actual names and just figured “Taito” and “Yamachi” were other (nick)names for them, and since it was popular to just throw random Japanese words into your fic at the time, and half of the time people didn't even use them right, I didn’t bother to look up what “Shounen-Ai” and “Yaoi” meant.

So I had no idea what I was getting into when I started reading, and after a couple of chapters I might have found it a bit weird that Sora was so little in it, but apparently I’ve also always enjoyed a good slow-burn, so I kept on reading. I don’t even remember when I realized that there was something going on between Yamato and Taichi, but I do remember that I was fascinated, and that I couldn’t stop reading, especially once it became obvious/something actually happened between them.  

(Why do I care so much about queer people, says queer person years before she figures out she’s queer herself, etc.)

Anyways, the story was long (and my internet time limited), so it took days, if not weeks of surreal summer evenings until I was done, but I read the whole thing.

And for whatever reason… I took this as my sign to start shipping Daisuke and Ken (and a variety of DBZ characters). XD

I’ve absolutely no idea why that was what I took away from the whole thing, it’s not even that I disliked the ship (yet), I always kind of understood why people were shipping them, maybe it was simply because Digimon 02 was much more present in my mind than the first season at the time?

But then I started looking for Daisuke/Ken stories (again, without a lot of help from the websites themselves), and it was an absolute nightmare.

You simply couldn’t find anything that didn’t have Yamato/Taichi as the main ship instead, that didn’t feature them as the reason Daisuke and Ken were figuring themselves out, or didn’t have them as the “older, wiser” couple at least one of them went to for advice, and I was steadily growing more and more annoyed by them.

And it was like this for years. I think it got even worse (Adventure, and thus Yamato/Taichi, has always been more popular than any of the 02 characters, and even more so after they lost their momentum).

They just were everywhere, in every goddamn fic, no matter what other pairing you were actually looking for. I was once reading some football RPS, and when the guys in that story were listening to the radio, the host mentioned someone had called in and asked to play the previous song, from Yamato to Taichi (or the other way round) – you can’t even make that shit up.

At this point they just annoyed me so much that I made a point of not shipping them, and I think I’d also reached a point where I was a bit tired of the whole “they’re rivals/always beating each other up, so they obviously are in love” trope.

I also discovered Taichi/Koushiro (which I still think is an amazing ship that at least the German fandom has always been completely sleeping on), so I had even more reason to not ship Yamato/Taichi.

And I honestly think it would always have been this way, but then tri. happened. And hit me with full force. Because they were older, and somewhat calmer/less aggressive around each other, but still very much themselves, and most of all so blatantly obvious.

I was still in denial during most of part 1, but I already knew when Mimi shoved them into a Ferris wheel cabin and declared the group had brought them together that I was fighting a losing battle, and by part 2 with the entire onsen visit and the bickering afterwards, it was over.

Look. I get it. They’re really it. They work so well together, there’s so much there, they’re the blueprint for so many anime ships, they give me way too many feelings. (Help.)

I still don’t really ship them pre!tri., though. Partly probably because of my history with the ship, but also because I like their dynamic so much better now, and because I simply like the idea of people getting together later in life, or at the very least after they’ve at least finished high school.

TL;DR: I never, ever thought I’d fall into Taito hell, and yet here I am, in the year 2k24, absolutely obsessed with them once again. Thank you, Digimon, you’re the gift that keeps on giving.

[twopoppies]

Yes absolutely I would do these things with him for real, I didn’t just make that list (hi it’s me, I made the list. I’m Lindsay). They’re basically all things I did when I was getting to know my best friend in Boston. They’re fun to me and also it is important to think of things we could do together not just be like “make him buy me jewels” or “go yachting/fly private to Dubai.” That’s 1- boring 2- taking advantage of someone 3- just not a cool way to be with people. Things I did not mention: gossip. No I don’t care about celebrity tea per se but everyone loves a little gossip about friends so tell me dirt and I’ll tell you dirt, Harry. Do you have a neighbor you think is a jerk? Let’s tan about them. Absolutely no hot yoga/exercising/pilates/ice baths. It’s important that we have separate interests Harry and all of those suck and I hate sweating. Don’t ask me to do it, I’ll flake. Afternoon on a sailboat/sailing lessons. IF you prove yourself to be good and decent IRL Harry, I’ll introduce you to my niece and nephew they are the best people I know and age 1 and 3. Film photography including developing in a darkroom to see how our work turns out. Share our secret favorite songs from albums that aren’t that well known (this sounds pretentious I realize but I want to play him Both Hands and Untouchable Face by Ani Difranco because I loved those songs when I was like 17 and they’re still good). Topic: animals especially the history of animals and discussing which are interesting and which are not. For example, the giant platypus as mentioned. Who was your first celebrity crush (Mine: Christian Bale in Newsies)? Roof activities- roof parties, roof drinking, roof dining, roof hanging out. Summertime is when the roof hangout is supreme. Explain London neighborhoods to me in detail and tell me what’s actually cool and what’s not and I’ll do the same for you for NYC and Boston. Like is Hammersmith interesting? Do people ever stop name dropping Shoreditch because there are actual good neighborhoods? I’ll keep it secret if necessary. Absolutely no form of Soho House and/or related properties, that whole franchise is corny and not private. Tell me about Jenny Lewis but that’s the only shop talk I’ll ask I swear. And it can just be “is she cool? Is her hair as gorgeous in person as it looks?” I just want to know if she’s cool, basically because I think she is. Falafel. Vegetarian cooking, I am very good and it is fun. Museum gift shops for coffee table books. Mixtape (or Spotify, whatever). Play records because we are being pretentious! Niche foreign beer tasting. Key lime pie. Aaaaaaaaaaand your friends can come hangout with us too Harry if they’re not 1- revolting and/or predatory in my opinion, I have veto power and James can never come. 2- interesting and engaging and not that into themselves or status or clout. We’re not instagramming our way through the hangout, we’re actually hanging out 3- kind. No jerks. Hmm I think that’s all for now but those are all things I would do with Harry if we befriended each other.

Hi, darling. I think those all sound like excellent ideas. Very well-rounded and much more interesting than the average get together. I might need to take notes. 😂

In reference to this (and the everything else in the tag)

[strayfics]

GROUP REACTION AND SCENARIO PROMPT LIST

Disclaimer: I focused on collecting mostly those general relationship ideas that I’ve seen frequently asked for – the list doesn’t include many of the scenarios people suggest based on their own specific experiences or ideas, sexual scenarios and those related to different AUs.

Realizing they’re falling in love

Falling in love with someone of the same gender for the first time

Falling in love with the best friend

First meeting

Asking you out / confessing

Saying “I love you” for the first time

Them expressing affection

Making them or you blush

Holding hands

Types of kisses

First kiss

Kissing their forehead

Kissing their cheek

Kissing them to shut them up

Randomly kissing them

Kissing their neck

Making out

Asking for a kiss

Asking for attention / affection

Types of hugs

You backhugging them

Comforting you / cheering you up

Comforting you after a nightmare

Comforting you when you cry

Comforting you after a long day

Comforting you when you’re feeling depressed

Comforting you when you’re anxious

Giving a massage 

Playing with their hair

Hair braiding or styling

Headpats

Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

Stealing the blanket

Helping you fall asleep

Cuddling

Jealousy

Being jealous of pets

Touch starved s/o

First time

Aftercare

Morning after

Taking care of you when you’re sick

Overworking

Saying “I love you” or something else in their language

Learning their language

Learning their choreography / dancing together

Learning their songs / singing together

When they weren’t / aren’t your bias

Waking you up

Small s/o

Tall s/o

You wearing their clothes

Buying matching clothes or couple items

You dressing up for a date / wearing revealing clothes

Accidentally walking in on you changing

Them doing your makeup / doing each other’s makeup

Squishing their cheeks

Poking their cheek

Ticklish s/o / tickle fight

Tsundere s/o

Shy s/o

Idol s/o

Insecure s/o

Being clingy

Reserved s/o initiating skinship

Them missing you

You sleeping with a stuffed animal when they’re not there

Supporting you when you’re studying

Falling asleep on their shoulder

Sitting on their lap

Being tipsy / drunk

Giving you piggyback rides

Cooking or baking together

Shopping together

Surprising them

Playing games together

Playing a sport together

Watching a series together

Getting caught in the rain

Taking a bath together

Cleaning together

First date

Types of dates they prefer

Sneakily taking pictures

Teasing / pranking each other

Calling them by a new nickname / petname

Calling them by their full name

Being angry at them

Giving them the cold shoulder

Having a fight

Seeing your ex

Being in a friends with benefits relationship

Meeting your family for the first time

Proposing

Getting married

Them as husbands / wives

Pregnancy

Wanting to have / adopt a child together

Them as moms / dads

Send your own ideas!

[acourtofthought]

It genuinely made me laugh out loud! “Shadows disappearing is confirmed good by HOFAS!” I was confused at first thinking when tf did that happen.. and then had a chuckle when I realized they were talking about Ruhn.

I typically stay out of the subreddit, and have their tags blocked on here, but I was curious to see what theories or hints they gathered from HOFAS. Seems like the bulk of it is:

- ruhnlidia “parallel” confirms mate language for e/riel from the bonus (or something like that, I’ve forgotten which precise passage they warped).

- stone mother song is about elain (vast stretch, seems punitive to focus on the song and not everything else that happened in that scene). And is so fucking interesting because that’s a bonus chapter and they’re still claiming BC aren’t canon/down voting when you point out they are. Can’t seem to make up their minds !

- today show article & interview about fans expecting the story to be Az & Elain, and SJM saying there’s a lot to explore in a rejected bond. The first is whatever imo, and the second they seem convinced is about them but I’m more convinced it’ll be Eris & Mor. Admittedly, Helion & LoA is another possibility more likely than e/riel, but their story breaks my heart already and I desperately want them to have HEA

Are there any other arguments you’ve seen/heard of? I’m curious what you think of these three as well!

🧼💖

The Stone Mother argument being about E/riel is just bonkers to me. First off, we have no idea if the song itself is actually based off Native American legend or whether SJM just liked the name. But to take a Paiute legend and claim it about a white women's love story is very cringe to me. I agree with you, I think the rejected bond is going to be Eris and Mor and the effects of an unaccepted bond will be Helion and the LoA. I could see them eventually getting together but for the last however many centuries, they do seem to be an example of a "rejected" bond. And you're right, they have selected very specific lines from the interviews and articles while ignoring the rest. First SJM said she only asks herself those same questions when writing. Is there choice? Is it destiny? What if it's wrong? But she's already written that into the series, where the characters wonder how it happens, is there choice, etc. And every time, the characters have said that it doesn't matter because at the end of the day they still chose one another. Bryce confirms that it didn't matter where her bond with Hunt came from or who it was determined by because it's what she wanted. Nesta struggled with the mating bond because it meant giving up her humanity but in the end she decided she wanted Cassian as her mate. They take that to mean SJM is proving to the reader that she's definitely going to write a rejected bond for two main characters when all she's saying is she makes sure to have the characters ask themselves the important questions so in the end they know without a doubt it's what they wanted and not just something decided by fate. But they ignore SJM saying that characters end up with who they need to be with for the most growth. How her MMC cheer on the FMC and encourage her. These things clearly go against the E/riel narrative but they conveniently leave those quotes out of their arguments. The one big argument I heard going around during the release was how the Cauldron was corrupted therefore Elucien's bond is. So basically.....an event that happened 15,000 years ago and in all that time the ONLY corrupted bond to come out of it was Elucien's? That's quite convenient, don't you think? There is also zero proof that the Cauldron or the Daglan were responsible for mating bonds. So yeah, I imagine all these theories will end up in the graveyard of E/riel theories along with Bread and Roses meaning that E/riel are living together and pregnant in CC3.

[hummingbirdspark]

Feel free to use these ideas if you want! You do not need to credit me, but just let me know you did so I can read it.

Details for the story ideas under the cut

Kidnapped and forced to do maths

Pretty self-explanatory, they get locked in cells equipped with digital blackboards and stuff and can’t leave until they answer enough questions right. Penalties for wrong answers is death. Perhaps opportunities for teamwork?

Kipo and the age of Wonderbeasts au

Might not make sense if you haven’t seen Kipo but Carmilla uses megamute dna to try and make humans able to live on the surface, but after getting kicked out of her burrow, she has to wander the surface, looking for humans desperate enough to accept her ‘help’. I already have a bulletfic for how each of them gets found and mutated

Steven Universe au

Mechanisms as the Off-Colors. Gems thst either rebelled against or were thrown out by the diamonds. They wander the galaxy, and sometimes assist gem rebellions. The moon war was fought over earth’s moon base, between the crystal gems and those loyal to the Diamonds.

Doctor who TMA au

Jon and Jonny were brothers on Gallifrey, and while Jon excelled in timelord school and became The Archivist, Jonny was distracted by paying off his father’s debts and failed, never to receive the title of “the Captain” or 12 regenerations. He didn’t stay mortal for long, as Carmilla found him like in cannon and mechanized both of his hearts. They stole a TARDIS called Aurora and fled to the stars. Many many years later, The Archivist finds his long lost brother when taking his companions, Martin, Tim, and Sasha to the Steamworld Intergalactic Music Festival

False domestic psychological prison

An enterprising young member of an intergalactic authority comes up with a new idea for these immortal criminals’ containment: the only prison the Mechanisms can’t escape is the one they don’t know they’re in. They capture the mechanisms and through a combination of the sedative effects of the Lotus, and some memory altering microchips, they get the Mechanisms to think they are just (mostly) normal people on a normal planet. To make them less likely to escape, they gave them something they never could have had before. Jonny gets respect as the owner of a tailor shop, with workers who call him sir, and trust and obey his judgement. Brian, as a priest is listened to in all his advice and praised for his wise moral decisions. Will they realize it’s a trick? Or stay living this lie forever?

Spaceteam fic

The Aurora gets stuck in a strange wormhole (bifrost?) and she can’t operate anything but basic piloting. Suddenly strange new controls are on the bridge, as well as whole other consoles of controls. Instructions for what to do are provided on screens, but they don’t match the control each mechanism sees on their console. Luckily they’re all within shouting distance, but they will have to learn to work together… as a spaceteam. Set Sigmaclapper to 5! Soak Ferrous Holospectrum! Baste the Emergency Whittler!

Summer Camp Councilors

Human au where the mechanisms are councilors at Camp Cosmo, with wacky hijinks, camp names, and songs. Several units of cabins inspired by the 4 story albums, a great spot on a canal with sea kayaking, regular kayaking, sailing, and canoeing. A high ropes and low ropes course, an archery range, and an arts and crafts area are also present for those who aren’t water crazy. Pack up your sense of adventure and extra flashlight batteries! Hopefully the campers won’t get into any drama…

Kofi rat from Small Saga meets Marius

This is for the KofiAssam fans out there! Our very own rat-tailed rover finds themself on a massive metal god dwelling and encounters The Metal Armed God!

Or

Marius Von Raum finds a rat wearing clothing that seems to be able to play the mandolin. Good thing he learned to speak rat when he and Toy Soldier went to that candy planet where Toy Soldier somehow became a prince…

Steam Powered Giraffe roleswap

What if Doctor Carmilla lived on earth and created nine singing automatons that could self repair?

What if Colonel P. A. Walter mechanized 6 humans with blue matter to create a force of galactic heroes, that then forgot their original names?

1920s American speakeasy

Probably heavily based on Lackadaisy. Carmilla’s Speakeasy is a great place to get illegal alcohol, and its secret entrance is inside the Cafe Aurora. The owner, Carmilla herself is illusive at best, and her seeming to only show her face at night has lead to rumors of her being a vampire or witch. Rumors that are only worsened when she gave each of her employees a strange new gift: pins, that she insists are a new part of their uniform to be worn at all times. The purpose of the pins is made clear when Jonny is shot by a rival rumrunner while on a job and comes back from the dead.

SCP contains Brian and Toy Soldier

Brian was on MJE and Toy Soldier was under direct orders from a researcher to not escape. The only question is would Doctor Bright be an expert on immortality, or would letting him know about The Mechanisms be a terrible idea?

Marius backstory oneshot based on the christmas armistice

There are many things Byron Marius expected to hear in the middle of a war. The pound of bullets, the screams of other soldiers, and crash of giant robot mechas overhead. What he didn’t expect to hear was singing.

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht

That’s all, folks

I have way too many ideas.

[oldestenemy]

There is a long quiet stretch after Azteca where nobody asks the wizard to do anything.

And they don’t seek anything out.

They spend a lot of time lying in front of the memorial to the Drake’s in their castle. Watching the sky, and watching some of their pets circle the giant cyclops statue upon which this castle is built. The billowing echo of the stone breathing.

Perhaps today, things would feel better. They might seek out movement. Progress.

“Shut up.” They are alone and do not bother curbing the instinct to verbally kick back at Raven’s voice as it lilts through their consciousness. Pulling at their limbs as she tries to move them to action.

They aren’t ready to go back.

They had even tried jumping to Earth about a month back. Broken down sobbing on their parents who seemed at a loss for where those tears were coming from. It was that confusion and the oh so obvious empty place where the song of creation could normally be heard that drives them back to the spiral.

They don’t belong on Earth anymore.

They should stop fooling themself into thinking the next time will be any different…

“This is their castle isn’t it?”

“One of ‘em.”

Voices are floating to their ears from the little hill where their spiral door sits and the wizard bolts upright just as two figures round the corner.

“There they are!”

It’s Malorn, and Penny—who appears to be too busy staring up at the massive cyclops statue—who come down across the lawn. “Is that—real?” Right. Her allergy. Actually, the wizard wasn’t sure if that cyclops would set it off. Sure it was technically stone, but it still breathed, still shifted from time to time as though it was settling the weight of the castle. Huh.

Something for later.

“How did you get in here?” the wizard asks, watching the pair of them with empty eyes. “Nobody can get in here without my permission.”

“I convinced Myrella to let us in through one of her temporary doors.” Malorn says, looking a little sheepish. “Nobody has seen you in weeks—we were—”

“—Everyone has been so worried about you!” Penny cuts in “The professors won’t tell any of us what’s been going on, or why you’re never around anymore, or—”

She stops as the wizard groans and falls back against the grass. “I’m fine.” they say “I just wanted to be alone.” It’s a lie. They want so desperately to be seen. Nobody here ever sees them as anything more than their accomplishments. Nobody here even really knows their name.

“Why did you need the Dragonspyre key?”

“I wanted to go back in time.” Does it really matter, keeping any of it secret? Would it really hurt if they hadn’t experienced the horror of it all? Nobody else went running off like the wizard did at the slightest tick of disaster. Sure they all had their duties and troubles around here—but Wizard City was never truly threatening even to normal students. How could it be? “They key is over there—” the wizard points vaguely to the memorial for Malistaire “—I don’t need it now.”

They wonder if their voice really sounds as hollow as it does inside their head.

When it becomes evident that their death student housebreakers are not going to be leaving, they resign to deflecting some more.

“How are you both doing? Is Dworgyn teaching well? Do the new—” the wizard pauses, realizing they never did go back to berate Ambrose for not sending new students straight to Nightside. “—Did you ever talk to the Headmaster, Malorn?”

Malorn had not in fact, spoken to Ambrose. He was still struggling to find time to advance his own work while running classes for younger students. Penny had heard from her parents about the Wizard’s escapade saving the Queen of Marleybone, and was still going full force on her idea of an undead reagent-based cookbook. The wizard listens near silent, offering quiet hums and barely visible nods as their classmates talk.

“We meant it when we said everyone is worried.” Malorn brings up again during a lull. He’s sitting with his back to the wizard, staring at the memorial they had made and fidgeting with the Dragonspyre key. “Even Stormgate was asking about you—Professor Drake said you were working on an independant project, and that it was very delicate, and you were not to be unnecessarily disturbed.” Malorn does his best to imitate Cyrus’ voice, slamming one fist into the opposite palm like Cyrus often did with his wand.

The wizard actually smiles a little at that. “Of course that’s what he’s been telling people.”

“Was this what you were working on?” Penny asks, gesturing to the grave.

“No—I made that years ago, after defea—after killing Malistaire.” They don’t like to say defeating in this case. It feels wrong. It feels like softening a blow that should’t be softened. Like disrespecting the whole ordeal. “Torald Wayfinder helped me with it, he’s the Master Artisan of Grizzleheim.”

“So what have you been doing?”

“Nothing.” And the truth sounds less believeable than any lie they could have told. “I failed. I lost. Nothing is straightforward anymore. I run errands for knights and kings, I negotiate peace between Zebras and Lions and Aztecosaurs and Birds, and I kill dragons, and I make sandwiches for stupid researchers, and I strike down evil until my fingers bleed and my ears are ringing and I still failed.”

A cloud passes briefly over whatever stands in for a sun in this little pocket dimension where their castle floats. The wizard tells themself it’s a coincidence, and closes their eyes to the way the shadows shift and flicker with their words. And so they miss it when Malorn and Penny share a startled but silent look of what the hell was that?

“I’m supposed to tell their story.” The wizard whispers, eyes still shut. They draw the Myth insignia in the air above them, and golden magic alights in the form of the three mystics. They open their eyes to watch as hundres of tiny meteorites obscure the display. As this happens their eyes shift from warm brown into flat and empty gold, dull and lifeless as the bright glow of the Myth magic flashes deep purple—and then blinks out. “All I can do is wait—and pretend I didn’t destroy them—until Ambrose sends me running towards the next crisis.”

The silence stretches on after those words. They’ve never really mentioned in detail, the things they see and do and endure. They don’t blame Malorn or Penny for not knowing what to say.

“I think you should come back to Dragonspyre.” Malorn says finally.

“What?” The wizard hears their voice drop low and dangerous, the same tones that followed them since Celestia. The audible echo of astral magic putting more power behind them.

“The reason I wanted to collect dirt from the Death and Fire trees there—I wanted to know if we could re-grow the rest of the trees, but I had to make sure the magic in the soil was compatible—the Academy was hit pretty hard by the Dragon Titan after all—and it is! So—” He trails off as the wizard finally sits back up.

“To what end, Malorn?” Hollow and cold and crueller than it needs to be. This is just another stupid fetch quest, another pointless bookending to a world they don’t want to touch ever again. Another reminder of everything lost. “Dragonspyre is a ruin, a torched wasteland full of ghosts and spiders and remnants of the titan army, you have to go through ridiculous trials to even get access to the academy grounds in the first place and—”

“We want to fix up the Academy.” Penny cuts in, not flinching as the wizard turns that flat golden gaze onto her. “We being Malorn, myself, and the other upperclassmen.”

“We have permission from Professor Drake—I might even say we have encouragement from him, given he didn’t immediately shoot the idea down. I’ve even done some inquiring with the ghosts there, some of the old instructors seem like they would welcome having a purpose again—”

Perhaps this is the Spiral’s way of telling you to get a move on? That destruction is not the end.

The wizard groans again and rubs at their eyes. “No, no. Be quiet.”

“If you don’t like the idea we—”

“Not you!” the wizard snaps at Malorn, and then immediately regrets it for how he flinches back. “Not— no, I’m sorry— not you.” They curl in on themself, squeezing eyes shut and digging nails into their arms. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

For a long moment they just sit there, hiding behind the dark of their closed eyes.

When did they get so angry?

This isn’t who they should be snapping at, no there were two special reservations for that place, split between an old man and an older deity.

The wizard takes a slow breath, in, hold, out…

“Okay.” They say, finally opening their eyes again, faded back from gold to brown. “Okay, I’m sorry, what can I do to help?”

Maybe a fetch quest is what they need right now.

Maybe a distraction is better than nothing at all.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Another little piece of my ongoing wizard101 series.

You can read the rest here <3

[snowywanderer]

The Meaning of Flowers

Words: 957

Warnings: eye contact

Description: On a fateful day, you see a view on Starsnatch Cliff that easily beats what you’ve seen previously. You can’t help your desire to talk to the stranger.

—

The view at Starsnatch Cliff is a well-loved one, especially by you. You try to find time at least once a month to dance among the cecilias, before heading to the highest point and staring out at the ocean. You swear sometimes you see islands in the distance, though people look at you weird if you bring it up. They aren’t on a map, after all.

Today, you think you’ve found a view even more beautiful than usual.

If you come early enough in the morning, you don’t usually run into as many people. It’s certainly odd that a man, gorgeous at the dawn sky, stands at the edge of the cliff.

He’s turned away somewhat, but what you can see of his features look beautiful. His forehead is wrinkled as he glared out towards the horizon, yet he still looks breathtaking. It strikes you as odd clothes on his back look Inazuman, though you suppose with the lifting of the Sakoku Decree more visitors from the nation have come to Mondstadt.

“Hello!” You call cheerfully.

He turns quickly, eyes wide. Shock quickly turns to annoyance.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you say, walking towards him. “I just don’t tend to see people here this early.”

“You didn’t scare me,” he lies, but you won’t call him on it. “Are you a Knight, or are all Mondstadters required to greet foreigners so enthusiastically?”

“Not at all,” you laugh. “Like I said, people don’t tend to come here at this time. I was just curious.”

He doesn’t respond.

“The cecilias look best this time of year. I don’t blame you if you want to see them without dealing with others.” Realization strikes you. “Oh, I can leave you alone if you want.”

“You sure like to talk, don’t you?” Despite his tone, the stranger’s feet are planted firmly. He doesn’t shoo you away either.

“I can talk more, if you want.” He cracks a smile for a second, and you decide to push further. “Cecilias, in the language of flowers, represent a wish to free someone of their current situation. You might give them to someone who feels trapped by work to wish they could get days off or something.

“Oh! And did you know cecilias are said to be favored by Barbatos? At least, that’s what I heard from a bard back in the city. Actually,” you add thoughtfully, “he might have just made it up seeing as he’s written songs the Sisters consider blasphemous.”

“Blasphemous?” You might be imagining, but he seems to have perked up a bit.

“He sang once of Barbatos pranking the Geo Archon with false love confessions, sending letters weekly for months, complete with flowers. Oh, and he once challenged the Electro Archon to a duel, knowing she was far more powerful than he. He, of course, failed to show up.”

The man finally cracks and laughs, loud and harsh like he isn’t used to feeling genuine mirth. His eyes shine brightly. “I like that second one.”

You suppose, noting the ornament in his chest, it isn’t odd for an Inazuman with a Vision to have some resentment for the Raiden Shogun. “You know, he had an Anemo Vision too.”

“I think I’d like to meet this guy,” he says, the last of his laughter fading. “You know, back to cecilias, we have some odd flowers back in Sumeru.”

“Oh?” His Vision’s casing, you now notice, is shaped like those of Sumeru, in contrast with his clothing.

“Kalpalata lotuses aren’t actually lotuses, as they grow on the side of cliffs rather than the water. Sumeru roses also aren’t true roses. I don’t personally like the idea of a name that lies.”

“Do you like flowers, then?”

“I don’t particularly care for them.” He doesn’t meet your eyes.

In that case… you have a terrible idea.

“Actually, I’ve read about them in books before. Kalpalata lotuses you give to people who need to be reminded of their own mortality, and Sumeru roses are given as a suggestion to someone they ought to break up with their romantic partner.”

He covers his mouth and breathes shakily. “Is that so?”

“Not at all. I just made that up.”

Despite him trying to remain cool, he cracks again. You can’t help but grin in return.

“Why did you actually come here?”

“I’m just a wanderer. I heard the view here’s nice.”

“And is it?”

He meets your eyes for a moment, then turns away, hiding his features with his hat. “I suppose it was worth it coming here in the end.”

“The sun’s more visible now,” you point at the ocean. “You might want to head off if you don’t want to run into anyone else.”

His troubled expression from before returns.

You reach down and pick up a cecilia before offering it to him. “For you. I’m not sure if you need freedom from anything, but perhaps the good will will carry on until you need it.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, avoiding your gaze yet again.

You smile in response, and head off.

—

It’s merely been a few hours since your encounter, and it still weighs upon your mind. You can’t help but want to know more about that man, and wonder if you shouldn’t have asked his name.

You’re taking a walk near the southernmost fountain when something makes you stop dead in your tracks. It’s the man from earlier, and he’s playing with some of the kids. They certainly seem happy, and you think he must be too.

You lose your balance for just a moment, but it’s enough that you step wrong and several heads turn towards you. The tallest of the group has a recognizable flower in his hair.