#I’m not aure why I posted this

[gelatosushix]

Under the Blossom Snow

An Inuokko Heian Era AU

Chapter 1: The Clan of the Fang

Just a snippet of chapter 1…

Cold. So cold.

Like snow on a December night, like the wind sweeping jade floors. Despite being away in a stone Fortress, up in the unrelenting mountains of Toyama, the Baracks of that compound have never felt as cold as the old wooden floor of the Inumaki hall.

It’s spring now. Or it should be, anyways, with the snow slowly melting away, disappearing off the ornate rooftops of Kamakura. Yet here, now, Yuta's hands remain rigid, ensnared by the cold, as they lie atop his knees beneath the somber folds of his dark blue hakama. This should have felt like freedom, after the stifling winds of his mountain exile, but the oppressive air of the clan's hall grips Yuta's very essence, shackling him to their crest before any vows are made.

"It's better than seven more years on that mountain," Yuta mutters to himself, a mantra to shroud his turmoil and bring solace, albeit fleeting. “It must be better. It must.”

It’s a toughs sell, even for him, even given his circumstances. The hall seems to possess an insatiable appetite for life force, a vacuum draining his vitality with each passing minute. For over half an hour, Yuta kneels, devoid of any address or acknowledgment. His eyes dare not lift from the floor, adhering to custom, fixed on the glint of his katana laid before him in a gesture of reverence. And he’s not alone, as much as he wishes he were. He kneels at the centre of a grand room, for the pleasure and scrutinizing gazes of the clan elders lining the walls. Yuta observes their cold, white robes blending seamlessly with the white banners adorning the red pillars that reach to the sky. Their faces are unreadable, shrouded by crimson veils etched with ancient cursed sigils, evoking old folk tales of malevolent spirits and a long-forgotten curse.

They’re all dressed in white, like a funeral pyre. They’re all hoping for his demise.

With a fleeting glance, Yuta discerns the conversation swirling around him. The eyes of the elders betray their thoughts—fear, disdain, and an undercurrent of paranoia. They must think of him as the bearer of a curse, a bad omen sent to bring ruin to the Inumaki heir, like he did with the Orimotos. He wishes he were anywhere but here, ensconced in this cold, colossal hall, awaiting the head of the family to ascend onto the dais and extend a formal welcome.

He’s behind schedule. However, Yuta refrains from expressing that thought. It must be a deliberate test, an examination of his allegiance to the cause. His commitment is resolute. There's no alternative, he reminds himself, as his gaze lingers on the lengthy tabard enshrouding his katana. A crimson braid intricately woven near the hilt adorns the obsidian wood. Underneath it, Yuta remembers without even wanting to, splinters of wood jab at the fine threads, where there once was a silver family crest.

Finally, the imposing iron doors before him groan open. A sudden draft sweeps in, chilling him to the bone, akin to death itself strolling into the room. Yuta knows he’s being too fearful, too dramatic even, like he’s stuck in a court play written by some bored lady. But he can’t help it, not when his new life, the new chance *at life*, depends on this very moment. As such, he dare not raise his head or utter a word. A week of relentless travel on horseback led him here tonight. He ought to be appreciative that the clan's head and their kin have deigned to spare time this evening to greet a lowly ronin.

At last, someone addresses him. Yuta figures it’s one of the elders, as his years, trained in years of battle, easily pick up the direction.

His gaze ascends, and he's finally graced with the sight of the Inumaki family, who, to Yuta’s eyes, look almost like royalty, positioned upon a wooden dais, kneeling atop silken pillows. Yuta would recognise the crest embroidered in the Haori of Takehiko Inumaki anywhere - the crimson fang seal intricately sown in pristine white silk, like blood staining snow red - a symbol both revered and feared throughout the shogunate.

The emblem repeats itself across the room, adorning the robes of samurai sworn unwaveringly to the clan. Something stirs within Yuta. He wonders what’s one more guard to the Inumaki clan, who has the strongest army in Nippon. He wonders why him, an exile of a lowly Samurai clan, who’s not even allowed to bear the the Okkotsu tomoe. Lastly, even though he doesn’t want to think of that, he wonders why would any clan could place trust in him after the events of three years past.

All of those thoughts silence when the head of the family, a man in his fifties, commands his attention. His visage, cleanly shaven, bears the marks of weathered experiences, etched with a rough, bitter demeanour. He adorns himself in robes blending the stark contrast of white and black, accentuated with the clan's emblem. He’s tall, sturdy-built, and Yuta is sure the man could wield a katana and split bamboo shoots clean in half, if he ever choses to. The Inumaki clan does respect strength and aptitude above all. Their commander must be strong in spirit and body alone, for else the clan would wither.

Kneeling behind him, his family regards Yuta from their designated positions. Seated with dignified pride upon a raised pillow, the lady of the family, whose given name Yuta is afraid has forgotten from his cousin’s briefing, nestles almost engulfed in her pale-coloured junihitoe. The robes, magnificent and long, wear the proud markings of the Zen’in Sun. He tries not to stare. Three years in a military outpost made sure Yuta nearly remembers what a woman looks like but it’s not that that makes his heart ache - Yuta recalls encountering only one woman adorned in twelve layers before. A young woman who’s now long gone and would never smile at him again. Eventually Yuta manages to escape his lingering, painful memory, particularly as the woman's penetrating gaze seems to reach into the depths of his soul. She's strikingly beautiful, youthful, with hair as dark as night and a slender, almost hollow face. The well-sought after features of the Zen’in lineage.

Her spitting image, their children sit by their mother. To her left, the daughter of the clan, a young beauty in her own right, dressed in a silken kimono of cream and pink hues, eyes Yuta with an intensity that makes him advert his gaze. He can feel her cursed energy even from where he stands - it’s thick, powerful, and plentiful, but wild, uncontrolled. She’s got the raw talent of her two bloodlines combined and she wears it proudly on her face. By comparison, Yuta hides his in shame. He’d rather no one have to feel the sinister tinge coating his aura, unless he doesn’t have a choice.

Finally, to his mother’s right stands the figure Yuta assumes to be the heir of the Inumaki clan. A young boy, draped in white pristine garments, his raven hair a reflection of his mother's. Adorning his haori are the same red fangs as his father's, the emblem of their lineage. Yet, as Yuta is graced with a shy look from the young heir, an unsettling feeling takes hold. His cousin mentioned that the boy, his new lord, should be of similar age with him. Gojo, ever so playful, made it a point to drill into Yuta that the closeness would be a benefit to them, even though Yuta failed then and fails even now to see anything other than disadvantages to that. However, despite the brief information that’s been given to him, the young heir appears no more than eleven or perhaps twelve, trying earnestly to wear a brave, proud face akin to his father's.

Yuta’s unsure what to make of this. The unsettling feelings of before return, snaking their way around Yuta’s poor hearts and the floor seems colder still. The boy— man who’s supposed to be Yuta’s liege is just nine short months away from his twentieth winter, marking his passing of age. It’s the reason why Yuta’s here now, afterall - to protect the young heir until he claims his birth right from his father, whose just rolling now in his stead.

Breaking through the heavy silence, a rough cough reverberates through the hall, akin to wind sweeping snow. It emanates from Yuta’s side, the same elder yet again. He discerns it as his cue. Shuffling slightly on the floor, he straightens, feeling the tension press against the strain in his muscles - a reflex from his old habit of hunching down.

Clearing his throat, he finally speaks, head respectfully bowed, “O-Okkotsu Yuta. Retainer of Clan Gojo. I… I wish to humbly request permission to bear the responsibility of protecting the esteemed heir of the Inumaki clan, I-Inumaki Toge.”

Yuta's voice falters, and he's unsure why. For all his shortcomings, this has never been an issue before. He supposes it might be the chill that seeps in from the courtyard or the piercing cold looks directed at him by both the lord and the lady, akin to a drawn great-bow. The arrow strikes his heart as soon as the name of the hero is uttered. Or perhaps it is the word heir itself, that makes everyone in the room tense up, as the young lady’s cursed energy betrays her emotions. Either way, Yuta realises he's made another mistake somewhere, but he's uncertain when. A low, rumbling murmur echoes in the hall, coinciding with an rumble within Yuta himself.

“Despite your past transgressions, the Inumaki clan will acknowledge you as its loyal and servile subject,” Lord Inumaki finally addresses him. His voice, deep and grave, carries weight, resolute and intimidating, fitting the commanding title of the 16th head of the Clan of the Fang.

As the unfathomable silence looms, Yuta comprehends that a response is anticipated. “S-sir,” he murmurs softly, lowering his palms and pressing his forehead onto the chilly floor. Before him, the katana remains resolute, unmoved.

Pleased, the grand figure of authority before him shifts. “From now on, the clan shall be your abode. The clan shall be your existence. The clan shall be your grave. You live and die by the clan, and act only in the interest of the Fang.”

[arcxnumvitae]

I’ve said before that the Royal bloodline of the Seelie’s ruling family is connected to the land in many ways (such as being able to shape the land itself, affect Seelie’s weather, draw strength from the land, see every corner they wish, and a smorgasbord of other things I’ve detailed previously). I just realized I never said why.

The enchantment on the royal family’s bloodline is an impossibly old one. So old that no one even among the long-lived fae can remember how it originated or the specifics. It can be guessed though why it was put in place— to protect the Moireasdan family’s claim to the throne. Fae have and always will be sneaky, and many would obviously covet the throne and rule over Seelie for themselves. Through the Moireasdan family having that power and some weapons and relics tied specifically to their bloodline, no other could rule the land without hailing from that family. One could possibly attempt to steal the throne regardless, but many believe the land itself would then revolt against the traitor, thus causing untold issues for them, Seelie, and generally causing a headache more trouble than its worth.

While all in the family are “beloved by the land”, only one can hold the title of ruler and all of the extra abilities that come with it at a time. This is the oldest member of the family once the last ruler passes. This is seen by Aur becoming ruler as the previous king passed and so gaining the necessary connective healing from Seelie to survive the poison then in his system. If Aur were to die, then rulership would immediately pass to Tara. And if Tara were to die, leaving the Moireasdan line with no living heirs? …No one knows, and no one is all that eager to find out. Many suspect the destruction of Seelie as a whole would result from it.

Because of this, the ruler is expected to do their best to have as many heirs as they can by however many people as necessary. Since children are hard to conceive and a family having one child is rare, let alone more than one, branch and extended families muddying the line of succession are very rare anyways, so it hasn’t been too much of an issue previously. And of course in-laws do not count as members of the Moireasdan line for purposes of the enchantment.

Because of this, the plan of the surrounding nobility has evolved to instead seize power through marriage, and at best children if possible. To have your child marry the ruler is pretty good because of the acclaim and way that it would tie your families together. To do so through a blood relation, with that child now beloved by the land as well? Well, many would go to great lengths to secure that.

[tvgals]

Ok ok hear me out‼️

Miguel (YOUR FATHER) grounds you from seeing your unknown boyfriend (Miles Morales 🤭) But you being sneaky go see him without permission and you guys post a tiktok ykno one of those tiktoks that flex the relationships and you follow jessica so she practically SNITCHES on you to Miguel (She found ur tiktok account somehow??) So Miguel Demands to meet this mystery boy (Imagine his face wasn’t showing in the tiktok) and when he finds out it’s Miles you and your dad get into a fight but it all ends in fluff

(The tiktok is that one trend ‘catch me in vegas, catch me in tokyo thing please know what i’m talking about 😭)

Sorry if the ask was too long but i’ve been thinking about this for D A Y S now‼️ Love you, drink ur water, and stay safe ! :3

aur em gee i’m living for this …

you’d came home late for the third night in a row, miguel sitting on the couch in the dark, scrolling on his ipad with his glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose. you should’ve known better than to come through the front door, but alas, you did it anyways. as soon as you step into the house you hear a “look who’s home.” and you jump. your heart rate going down as soon as you realize it’s just your father. shit.

“hey!…” you chuckle nervously — taking off your crocs. “this is the third time you’ve been late.” miguel says, turning off his ipad. “i know, dad. i’m sorry.” you say, standing in front of him while picking at your hangnails. “you said that the last two times you were late. you’re grounded, y/n. you and this little boy — who i’ve never met — are getting on my last nerve.” miguel says, standing up, leaving you a dumbstruck mess. you trail behind him and plead your case. “but dad! you don’t even know him! he’s literally perfect!” you said, following miguel into his room.

“exactly. until i meet this little boy — you’re banned from seeing him until further notice. and if i even suspect you’re seeing him, you’re done.” miguel says. you purse your lips together and walk out the room with a “this is not fair.” under your breath and walk into your own room — slamming the door shut. you lay on your bed and shove your face into your pillow. you heard a buzz from your phone and pull your head back, turning your phone on.

‘babyyyy i wanna see u! o(≧▽≦)o’ you smile at the text, obviously from miles by the kaomoji. you sigh and open the text, biting the inside of your cheek before looking at your bedroom door. ‘can’t :( dad grounded me >:(‘ text bubbles popping up almost immediately. ‘oooo what did u do?!?’ you grin and text back — not wanting to hurt miles feelings on the real reason why. ‘came home late 😒 i’ll just sneak out! see u in a bit <3’ miles replied with an “okay!!” and you were off on a dangerous mission — leaving your room and coming back without your dad noticing. you slide on a pair of crocs and throw on a hoodie miles gave you. you created a “pillow you” and snuck out through your window, making sure you had everything before leaving. once outside — you let out a long awaited breath and walk to miles house, just down the street and around a corner or two. you made it to miles house at 10:30, miles opening the door to you and inviting you into his room.

“hi, y/n!” miles grinned, pulling you into a hug. “hiiii!” you giggled, hugging him back. the two of you were on miles’ bed, occasionally turning on movies and making tiktoks, which is when you got the bright (stupid) idea to make a tiktok with the sound of ‘sexy back’ by skinnylegend. you collected a few pictures off of google and you took the rest of the video with miles, mentioning him in the caption and posting it, not thinking about who would watch it. you turned your phone off and laid next to miles, slowly drifting to sleep (idiot). miles shook you awake almost frantically, you shot up with a “what?” and miles handed you your phone. 10 missed calls and 23 missed text messages. dammit. you called miguel back, hoping he didn’t know about you sneaking out.

“y/n, where in the hell are you?” miguel asks, you can hear the anger in his voice. “dad, i just went to the corner store for some snacks.” you lied, putting your shoes back on. “no you aren’t. your car is still here and you know better than to walk outside alone at four in the morning.” miguel said, knowing he was right. you sighed and left out of miles’ house out his window, kissing him goodbye and walking back to your house. how could miguel know? you were confused and even more upset that miguel wouldn’t even hear you out! you made it home and walked through the front door, sitting down at the table where miguel was. “dad-“ you were cut off by miguel starting his own sentence.

“do you understand how upsetting it is to get a call from jessica,” you should’ve known. “who has her own child — that my daughter isn’t at home? y/n i’m so disappointed.” miguel scolds you. your head hangs low in shame. you should’ve been more careful, or just didn’t leave in the first place. “i’m really sorry.” you whisper, wiping your eyes. “i don’t believe you, y/n. you can’t keep saying sorry and do the same thing over and over. i expect to meet this boy by tomorrow or you two are over.” and with that, miguel walks to his room and shuts his door. you text miles and walk to your own room, laying down and falling asleep.

‘dad wants to meet you 😞’

you wake up and immediately turning your phone on, seeing three text messages from miles.

‘oh no!!! (ﾉД`)’

‘what if he doesn’t like me?!?’

‘ok ok, how about 530 tomorrow?!?’

‘well technically today’

you text him back with a “sure” and you head into the kitchen where miguel was making breakfast. “he’s coming over today at 5:30..” you mumbled, sitting at the table. “hm.” was all you got as a response. when 5:30 rolled around, you were nervously fidgeting at the table, waiting for the three knocks to adorn your door meaning that miles was there. knock knock knock. you sighed and opened the door. you’re met with miles — who was beaming and holding a container of empanadas for presumably your dad. “dad! he’s here!” you called out, dragging him into the kitchen (not without taking his shoes off first). “dad, meet miles.” you say, making jazz hands while standing next to him. miles eyes widen the same time as miguel’s, you stand there confused and watch as the scene plays out in front of you.

“miles morales?” miguel says, biting his tongue. “yes sir. that’s me.” he laughs nervously, occasionally opening and closing the lid to the container. “my mom made empanadas.” miles shrugs with a sheepish grin on his face. miguel snatches the container from miles’ hand and throws it at the wall, the empanadas falling to the floor along with a crack of the container. you gasped and watched as miles shoved his hands in his pockets and turned on his heel, sliding his feet back into his jordan’s and walking out with a “bye, y/n.” you turned to miguel and balled your fists up.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you yell, clenching your jaw. “what’s wrong me me, what’s wrong with you? you’re the one who brought him here!” miguel retaliated, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “because you asked me to?! are you mental? you ruin every thing!” you sob, stomping your way back to your room and slamming the door shut before you flopped onto your bed. your phone buzzed with notifications from miles.

‘does he not like empanadas?? :(‘

‘sorry y/n, i didn’t know he would react like that’

‘try again next week?’

miguel knocked on your door a few times before letting himself in, his heart breaking at the sight of you crying while curled up into yourself. “y/n..” miguel starts, sitting on the end of your bed. “i’m sorry. i wasn’t expecting him-“ you cut him off with a scoff. “you threw his mom’s hard work at the wall, dad. him and his family are the sweetest people i’ve ever met and you went and ruined it. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even wanna date me anymore because of you.” you hiccuped, glaring at him from under your hoodie. “look, how about next week we try and work this out, okay?” miguel asks, pulling you into a hug. you look up at him with bleary eyes. “and you won’t throw his mom’s cooking at the wall?” you ask.

“promise.”

[hircines-hunter]

WIP Wednesday Whenever

Gonna tag @umbracirrus @madamefluffnstuff @mavariel @thequeenofthewinter @oblivions-dawn

@vivifriend @aureli-us @bostoniangirl21 anyone else who wants to do it!? Feel free to tag me back!

Anyways this is still super rough! And this is all post war! So who knows how long in the future this will be! But, I’m starting Dyrvina’s Dragonborn saga differently and it’ll have a lot of the Thalmor and Blades and Dragon catching removed! I’ll figure things out! But have the beginnings of this. And suffer with me okay!

“Jarl Ulfric!” A soldier cried out.

Ulfric turned. He watched as the dragon glowed and disintegrated. A warm light swirled around the skeletal remains and soldiers. It turned and flew at Ulfric and Dyrvina, passing through Ulfric.

The warm light went through Dyrvina. She gasped as her body absorbed the light. She fell over. Ulfric grabbed her before she hit the ground. She stopped breathing.

“Dyrvina!” He brushed her hair out of her face. He tapped her face. “Dyr!”

Dyrvina gasped and shot up. Her head collided with Ulfric’s. She let out a very unladylike curse. She groaned and rubbed her forehead. “Why the hell is your head so fucking hard?”

Ulfric pulled her close. “Thank Talos, you’re alive. You stopped breathing.” His arms tightened around her.

Dyrvina blinked. “I did? I feel fine…. I’m sorry.” She leaned into him.

Ulfric pulled away and looked her over. “I’ll have Aulikki look you over when we return. Can you stand?” He stood and helped her up.

Dyrvina nodded. “I’m fine, Ulfric.” She smiled a little bit. “Thank you. And I am sorry I came. I heard the commotion and was way too curious.”

Galmar walked over. “Ulfric.”

Ulfric turned his head. He saw the creases in his friend’s forehead.

“You saw what happened….”

“Aye.”

Dyrvina looked between them both. She looked over at the dead dragon. The light she absorbed. Was she?

“Dragonborn.” They all said at the same time.

“No! I didn’t kill it!” Dyrvina shook her head. “I can’t fight. Not… not like that!” She backed away from them.

“She should be able to Shout. Like you.” Galmar grabbed Ulfric’s arm. “That’s what the tales say.”

“Aren’t they just legends?” Dyrvina fidgeted.

Ulfric looked at her. “The first Shout the Greybeards taught me was ‘Fus’. Force.” He held his hand towards her. “You’ve seen me Shout before.”

Dyrvina nodded. “But…. I….” She shook her head.

“Fus. Just reach inside.” He grabbed her hand and put it on her chest. “From there. It means Force. A small push.”

Dyrvina nodded slowly. She repeated the word at first. She felt something inside her. She used that feeling and —

FUS!

Both men and the soldiers all stared at her. Dyrvina stared. A small tree snapped from her Shout.

“By Talos.” Galmar put his hands on his hips and grinned. “It’s a shame the war is over. We could’ve used the Dragonborn on our side.”

“I can barely fight…. What good would I do?”

“Certainly would’ve rallied the troops. Our High King married to the Dragonborn.” Galmar continued.

Ulfric noticed a slight blush across Dyrvina’s face. “The people would certainly have loved that. But, the war is won. We still need recruits to fight for Skyrim. But a lot of the soldiers have switched to our side.”

“It still stands that I don’t know how to fight. The Divines are laughing at us.” Dyrvina crossed her arms.

“We will figure that out later. We don’t even know if you will need to fight.”

DOVAHKIIN! A loud Shout shook the very earth beneath their feet. Everyone looked towards the tallest mountain in Skyrim.

“The Greybeards….” Ulfric’s eyes widened.

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

IPKKND ft. Jalebi

Warning: In this Jalebi edition I will write a slight canon divergence for me based on existing material 😊 it’s not a diss to the original! It’s just little/big changes (taking reality into consideration) - a what if based on what we HAVE. Hope you enjoy

#2 The Reveal

Original

Khushi, after watching Arnav suddenly be kind to her and watching a news bulletin that talks about a man marrying another so as to his astrological ill fate falls on the new wife instead of the one he intends to love and marry, assumes an atheist Arnav would precisely do the same - hence why he married her.

To marry his true love Lavanya and have his birth chart misfortune befall Khushi instead. Thus Arnav is planning to kill her and Khushi decides to kill herself before he does it first. And this is all played for “silly” comedy.

Arnav saves her from killing herself and tells her the truth. Khushi later pretends nothing happened and chirps around until Arnav confronts her again and she gets angry on him and he disbelieves her story.

Jalebi edition:

Post Holi Arnav and Khushi are very raw and vulnerable. Khushi understands the tension between Shyam and Arnav and is very restless about it. Why would Arnav keep glaring at his beloved jijaji? What wrong could have happened? Oh no, did he know the truth? How could he have known?

Shyam gets further desperate in getting his hands on the papers, and Khushi notices further the tension between the men. She decides to ask Arnav about it but is interrupted with Arnav fake romancing her as they had Anjali witnessing them. Khushi feels all their intimate moments were a play!

Angry, Khushi demands why much she pretend to be a happy wife? She accuses him of hurting her but he accuses her of hurting him more.

Shocked at that, Khushi fears the worst. One, he must’ve known about Shyam. Two, during Holi she must’ve blurted the truth to Shyam.

With Shyam getting more insulting, Khushi straight up heads to Shyam and demands he tells the truths to Arnav. Shyam tries to use to opportunity to get her to sign some papers by Arnav, but Khushi refuses. Angry, Shyam decides to play dirty.

He mocks Khushi that she must be knowing why Arnav married her. Khushi is stunned and Shyam, honestly, tells everything. That Arnav saw what happened on the terrace, misunderstood it, threatened and blackmailed Shyam, and the point of marriage was to use Khushi against Shyam.

Shyam is happy seeing confusion in Khushi’s face but Khushi calls him a liar and storms off, not believing a single word she said. She wonders if he indeed marry her for this and that she could take him to visit her family but in anger if he reveals the contract marriage they’d be hurt further.

Exhausted, she asks Arnav why he married her, Arnav tells her and Khushi can’t believe it. She asks him not to lie but he emphasizes he isn’t!

Khushi is shattered and chooses to kill herself but Arnav saves her, traumatized, and begs Khushi to explain the situation to him instead of…

Khushi yells at him, the sheer audacity to ask for an explanation when he left no room for questions.

Khushi tells the truth and accuses him of coming to the conclusion he perhaps always wanted to reach.

About her, her character.

(images sourced from the lovely Indi)

Tagging: @butaneandthebeast @shiyaravi @shaonsim @thenainitaldisaster @maansiloves @muttonthings @sapnokiduniyaisalwaysbetter @bengudill @myloveforstuff @laad-governess @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @lostafpanda @magicfeltmybloop @honeybellexox @featheredclover @goals1024 @bigfatreader @simplycurlz @persephone-with-a-cat @chutkiandchotte @sankititaliya @ijustchangedmyname @noor1025 @bitchy-bi-trash @thecharlesboyle @thedupattaknowswhatsup @exosexosekai @arnav-aur-khushi @whateverworks21 @starzin8s

(This is my permanent tagging list - I’m unable to get a few names cause tumblr doesn’t let them??? So sorry about that and if you want to be added/deleted lemme know)

[main-koi-aisa-geet-gaun]

Okay so life update that has been due for so long

Soooo the thing is

I’ve started teaching science and english to 6th and 10th graders at my old tuition.

So basically I’m now employed and have colleagues and other grown up shit too 😭

Now that I think about it, it was such a random decision… but definitely don’t regret it… I enjoy it sooo much 🫶🏼

Academic validation bhi milti hai aur bacchon ko help karke tasalli bhi milti hai 😁

I’m also thinking of continuing this in the long run.

So yeah…

If you’ve noticed me posting less lately, this is why :)))

[wisecrackingeric-2]

Oooooooooo. Oh no. I’m breaking my super mysterious persona to use tumblr as a personal trauma dumping diary aur naur !!!!!!!! Uh vent under cut but I really R E A L L Y Need to reiterate I’m not looking for pity or sympathy at all I just need a place to write all this down!!!!!! If you have advice ofc that’s always welcome but I’m not trying to centre myself at all or make anything about me I just need a space to vent !!!!!

I’m obviously not the first person to say this but I REALLY REALLY HATE the passage of time. I hate that it’s almost the new years and all of my art and posts and other peoples art is gonna be from last year or just have the ‘2023’ label on it. I hate that people are going to move on from my interests and I am TERRIFIED that IIIIIII may also move on. That scares me so unbelievably bad. I hate it so so much I hate that I can’t just pause time or pause my anxiety or autism or ocd to make me stop worrying for two seconds. I hate that so many things are gonna be in the past- like what do you MEAN re4r is gonna be a YEAR OLD in March of next year???????? I cant do that shit man!!!!!!! I can’t see people move on!!!!!!!!!

I HATE being reminded of how fickle everything is so so so SO much. Everytime E V E R Y T I M E something good happens to me, it’s paired with something bad- literally every time without fail. I hate that I can’t enjoy those good things cuz I’m subconsciously constantly waiting for something bad to happen.

For the first time since I came out to my parents in March 2022 I feel like I actually have a future to look forward to. I feel like I actually have things to work towards!!!!!! Projects I can start!!!!!!!! Friends to enjoy them with!!! Things to be EXCITED about!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But then like clockwork I’m brutally reminded of the fact that that could all come crashing down and all of my friends could dissapear off of the face of tumblr forever and it’s all fickle and delicate and why should I enjoy the present if I know bad things are gonna come right after???????????

I hate that this thing that’s brought me comfort and security in my life is so delicate. I could get hate crimed and ran off the internet like what happened on Twitter, my account could get deleted, Etc etc-

And worst of all I could loose my friends in the blink of an eye. They could take a break one day and never return. Something could happen to them and I’d never know. They could leave tumblr forever with no warning and I’d have no way of contacting them whatsoever. It’s happened before to me and it caused me SO much anxiety. I’ve had friends who’ve gone on breaks only to pass away and it leaves me wishing I’d DONE ANYTHING to help them or wishing that I spent more time with them or told them I loved them just a lil mroe

I’ve been so stressed out trying to finish as much stuff as I can before the end of the year cuz of arbitrary rules I’ve set for myself. This is the first time I get to be excited for the future yet I’m constantly knocked down and reminded WHY I SHOULDNT be excited.

Everything’s moving on and everything’s so delicate it could all slip away from me in a the blink of an eye and getting to the end of the year and seeing friends take breaks or say that they may have to leave for whatever reason is only making that anxiety worse.

Not to mention my goddamn parents got a divorce. I havent talked about it hete often cuz I feel like if I did it’d be all I talked about NDNEHENEJWN but it’s taken a MASSIVE toll on me. The fact that they’ll never be the same and I’ll never feel completely secure in life ever again has taken its toll on me.

I hate that there’s no solution to this. ‘Just move on/keep going in spite’ doesn’t work for me. I don’t WANT things to move on I don’t WANT things to change I don’t WANT to loose my friends and the community I’ve worked so hard to build and everything I’ve created again. I don’t wanna move on and it hurts so bad.

I don’t want the new years to roll around.

[autumnleaf1111]

•Based on this post I made a while back

Also, idk why but I like the idea of Poe randomly saying stuff in Hindi to Ranpo

↷♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎↶

It was a calm day at the agency, or It would’ve stayed that way if hadn’t Dazai finally arrived, 3 hours late, As expected; Kunikida yelled at him for it, Dazai ignoring him like always. Like any other day, it caused annoyance to everyone from the yelling.

“Oh my fuck, both of you shut up.” Yosano said with an annoyed groan. “Just give up Kunikida, you know he’s never gonna be on time unless it has to do with a certain someone he supposedly says he ‘hates’. ” Ranpo said with a sly smile. Poe just looked up with a unsurprised expression. Poe isn’t always at the agency, but when he is he’s always sitting in a chair next to Ranpo’s desk, along with being there enough times, it’s no surprise to him anymore when everyone is being chaotic. Ranpo’s statement caused a little scoffed laugh from Yosano, Kenji, Junichirou and Naomi.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Dazai lied. Yes, dazai is a skilled deceiver, but that doesn't necessarily mean he can't also be a dreadful one. Just as it is evident now, the lie was clearly awful and easily discernible to everyone, including Karl who is literally a fucking raccoon. “Dazai-San, You’re terrible at lying when it comes to this stuff so don’t even try.” Atsushi stated. “See? Even Atsushi can tell, and he’s almost always oblivious.” Ranpo said. “Hey!” Atsushi yelled with an offended tone. “Alright, everyone just drop it. There’s no point in arguing so get back to your paper work.” Kunikida slightly shouted, sitting back down. Dazai just walked away, ignoring him. Ranpo sighed and popped a sour gummy worm into his mouth, stating, "Nope, work is just too dull." “Ranpo, you only have two papers to do, it’s not that bad.” Yosano said. As Ranpo rolled his eyes, he noticed Poe looking at him with a stern expression. Despite Poe having his eyes covered by his hair, Ranpo could always tell what expressions he gives. “Ranpo, writing on two pieces of paper isn’t the end of the world.” Looking back down at his book, Poe’s voice had a hint of annoyance to it that only Ranpo knew. “But it’s boring.” He whined. “Ranpo—” Kunikida started but was interrupted by Poe. “ ऐसे मत बनो और बस उनकी बात सुनो। लेकिन, अगर तुम चाहो तो बदमाश बने रहो, यानी कि अगर तुम कल चलना नहीं चाहोगे (aise mat bano aur bas unakee baat suno. lekin, agar tum chaaho to badamaash bane raho, yaanee ki agar tum kal chalana nahin chaahoge) Don’t be like that and just listen to them. but, continue being a brat if you want, that is if you wouldnt like to walk tomorrow”

That seemed to Shut Ranpo up. Along with the confused faces of everyone around them. Soon shocked took over their faces when they see Ranpo’s face flush with color. They have no idea what Poe just said to him, but whatever it was quickly made Ranpo grab his pen and start his paper work. They notice the seductive grin on Poes face, kind of understanding what could’ve been said.(yes, even Kenji and Kyoka, they are 14, they should know what sex is considering most of us learn that shit I’m fourth and fifth grade)

Never in a million years did they think they’d seen a flustered Ranpo, it was hilarious considering it’s Poe who’s usually flustered easily. “I have no idea what you just said to him, but thank you.” Kunikida said. “What language was that?” Kenji asked. “It was Hindi.” Poe explained. Kenji made an “ohhh” expression. “What did you say.” Yosano asked. “That’s for us to know and you to never find out.” Poe said with a fake innocent looking smile. “Yeah…im gonna go get coffee, anyone want some…?” Atsushi asked while trying to leave so he didn’t have to hear the rest of this conversation. “I’ll take one.” Yosano said. “Me too.” Tanizaki also indicated. “Alright.” Atsushi then left and shut the door.

↷♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎↶

Id like to think that when Poe starts using explicit words to Ranpo he does it in a different language so no one else knows what he’s saying, which makes Poe saying suggestive comments in public easier. Plus, Poe always finds it amusing to see Ranpo stutter with his words as his face turns red as a result.

[mirambles]

Tere Bin in 45 minutes (Part 1)

Tere Bin is the latest hit Pakistani drama that is currently airing and driving fans to a frenzy. 34 episodes (c35 mins each) so far and this is the most ‘masala’ entertainer you will see. It started off well, but the creators are now dragging it to cash in on the popularity of the leads. The story, characters don’t make sense anymore and logic is non existent. Yet, despite all its pitfalls and failings, I still want you all to watch Wahaj Ali essay Murtasim Khan with all his swag, charisma and style; but I’m also aware that I stand the risk of losing my friendships for making you all watch this dumpster fire. You get my Catch 22 - so here is my summary of Tere Bin in 45mins to spare you the misery of sitting through the entire drama.

The plot:

Tere Bin is the classic taming of the shrew plot + Pak drama plot of cousins being forced to marry (why, why, why 🙄)

Murtasim : The sole heir to the rich feudal family ruling many villages. Hot headed , egoistic and enshrined in the customs and traditions that he has to abide by.

Meerab : His uncle’s daughter who aspires to be a lawyer. More hot headed than Murtasim. She is angry with her birth father and Murtasim’s family for a valid reason (Wikipedia has the whole plot).

The scenes to watch:

These are the best scenes in chronological order that have got me wasting my time on this disaster of a show 😂 but trust me when I say these are the good parts.

1. The scene which made me sit up and notice Wahaj, especially how expressive his eyes were. He realises the pain Meerab is going through. Beautifully shot with a lovely Sufi song in the backdrop.

Marriage happens, but Meerab puts in place a no touch contract till I consent and Murtasim agrees. For all his domineering personality, he does respect her feelings knowing how she has married against her will. But he is slowly falling for her, loves her feisty spirit and is clearly smitten by her beauty.

Rest of the scenes are post marriage where he is turning all soft, flirtatious and romantic with her.

2. Teasing her over ghosts in the villa:

3. Tum mujhe apnao, Sab tumhare ho jayenge

4. Keh bhi nahi sakta aur seh bhi nahi sakta

5. Just being a tease while forgiving her despite her making him eat fish after knowing he is allergic to it (what even 🙄)

Part 2 continues in next post, cause Tumblr won’t allow me more then ten links per post.

[shut-up-rabert]

I posted 263 times in 2022

That's 263 more posts than 2021!

139 posts created (53%)

124 posts reblogged (47%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@pulihora

@suvarnarekha

@navaratna

@ramayantika

@shanti-ashant-hai

I tagged 256 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#desiblr - 173 posts

#hindublr - 21 posts

#hinduphobia - 10 posts

#hinduism - 8 posts

#kashmir - 7 posts

#jammu and kashmir - 6 posts

#kashmiri hindus - 5 posts

#kashmir genocide - 5 posts

#kanhaiya lal - 5 posts

#pakistan - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#won’t even be surprised if kashmir genocide is represented as “a dark time when young kashmiri girls couldn’t go to school”

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Movie concept: students from pan India living together in a hostel but instead we get less represented states like 7 sisters(+sikkim), Odisha, Karnataka, MP, Chhattisgarh, Jharkhand, Goa in lead along with correct representation of states like Haryana, Punjab, Tamil Nadu, Kerela, Andhra, Bihar, J&K&Ladakh in the background

46 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#4

Just read a comic where UK and Canada were referred to as North Punjab and West Punjab and I haven’t been okay since

49 notes - Posted September 21, 2022

#3

Why isn’t mass media more neutral?

Disclaimer: I’m not taking any sides here, nor am I provoking any of you to say it, but this has been on my mind quite a bit and I feel like saying it now: Honestly saying, I’ve always felt like the media favours Palestine over Israel way to much even tho media is supposed to be neutral.

Essays in exams, front pages of newspaper, stars on social media always talk about Palestine but seem to be painting a rather black and white “Palestine good Israel bad” picture but never seem to be willing to dwell deeper into the topic, and when they they go somewhat below the surface it’s always from Palestine’s perispective only, nothing explaining Israel’s side of story as passionately even if at all. Even in India vs Pakistan wars, you’ll find motives and aggressions from both sides easily enough if you looked.

“Stars” like Bela Hadid raise slogans demanding Israel’s dissolve under the ruse of Palestine’s independence and no one bats an eye. The founder of Human rights watch left the organisation saying that it was being biased towards Palestine and has forgotten its original purpose. A lot of funding of these pro palestine news channels comes from Pro Islamic nations organisations, most of the said countries being Palestine supporters.

Palestine is suffering, yes, but it’s not just Israel that’s making it suffer. Hamas has a major role to play too. It kills its own civilians more than Israel does. Palestine has seen some serious bloodshed since Hamas came into power but no one seems to focus on that. There’s little to no discussion about how Palestine is bleeding internally due to hamas, but only the stuff that can be used against Israel.

You’ll hear about how Israel “attacked” Gaza and most of the times it turns out to be some retaliation. We always hear about civilian deaths whose names are never revealed but no one ever wonders what civilians were doing around militant bases. We talk about how palestinians are being thrown out of Israel to show them as big aggressors and it turns out that the land was originally Israel’s territory to begin with.

I’m not being pro-Israel here, And I very well admit that it can have its fair share of violations, such as killing of the one Al-Jazeera reporter , accident or not (look, I fucking hate that platform but that doesn’t mean I condone killing of someone who didn’t do anything) but this is something that has always made me curious. It can’t be as simple as “Israel evil”, can it?

53 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

#2

Hassi to ye sochkar aati h ki mera hone waala abhi kisi aur ke saath jeeney-marne ki kasme kha rha hoga

62 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

What you see:

What Desi kids see:

156 notes - Posted November 11, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[muskaann]

I believe it’s such a good feeling when people trust you with their past … with something they were too afraid to even speak with other people about.. or even accept it themselves.. And it’s so beautiful to hear things like, “I don’t know why I’m sharing this with you, but I felt good.” Remember when bunny from yjhd said to naina, “ye sab baatein toh mai avi aur aditi se bhi nahi karta tha, pata nahi tumse kyu kar raha hu.” I think we all felt it there! *Hold on to those people* 💜❤️💚💛 Follow @chasinngsunsetss for more such posts #chasinngsunsetss #yjhd❤️ #yjhddialogue #feelgoodquotes #sharestory #love #lovequotes #sharefeelings #ranbirkapoor #deepikapadukone #bunnynaina #darkacademia #darkaesthetic #tumblr #instagram #indianfood #sheher #shilparao #subhanallah https://www.instagram.com/p/Cmok6FnBv5C/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[kajalyashvardhans]

sonth ke laadoo | a one shot with amrita and kajal

TAGGING → @devrajyashvardhan & Amrita

LOCATION → The Yashvardhan Estate

It had come as a surprise to Kajal when she’d come into the bedroom she shared with her husband, her hand protectively over her six month pregnant belly—only to see him packing a small suitcase. But it was filled with her clothes and her things as another suitcase, presumably with his belongs was waiting by the door. He sat her down in her favourite armchair in their room and told her how something had come up and he had to travel. 

Given how it was the first time since she’d gotten pregnant that he’d said those words—she was understandably worried. Why was he doing this now? Didn’t he know how terrified she was? Not only of being alone but of anything happening to him? She didn’t voice any of those fears though, instead just nodding along as he told her that she would be staying with his parents at the Estate for the week. That thought itself was daunting. She’d be with his parents for the first time alone and she didn’t know how that would go.

Sure his parents had been exceptionally warm to Kajal, especially post the news of her expecting their grandkids but it was still a big thing to think about. However to ensure her husband didn’t spend his time away worrying about her, she agreed and that’s how she found herself at her in-laws. 

She’d just finished her lunch and had retired to her room with a book about expecting twins when she heard a soft knock and sat up before calling out to them, “come in!”

To her surprise, Amrita Yashvardhan walked in, alone—with some laddoos on a plate and instantly Kajal found her interest piqued. “I’m not disturbing you, am I?”

Kajal quickly shook her head, “Nahi toh…main toh bas, I was just trying to stay prepared.” She held up the book with the title for her mother-in-law to read over only to see the older woman smile as she stepped inside the room and placed the plate of sweets on the dresser before taking the seat across from Kajal on the sofa. 

“The books won’t be enough to prepare you for twins beti,” she told her softly, her hand reaching out to clasp Kajal’s with a smile. “I still remember the first time I found out I was having twins…After Jhanvi and Devraj, I was sure we’d have one more and that would be it, but of course that wasn’t the case. But I was sure it would be okay, after all—I’d delivered two other children by that point,” Amrita paused with a fond look on her face before shaking her head, “but twins is something else. Only someone who has experienced it can really tell you what it feels like.” 

Kajal nodded, eager to find out any useful information she could from the other woman. “I’m honestly…pata nahi aapko kehna bhi chaiye ya nahi, lekin mujhe darr laga rehta hai…roz. Meri body ke liye do bache…bahot hai, aur meri doctor bhi worried hai, lekin Devraj ko dekh ke…himmat aa jati hai ke main yeh kar sakthi hoon…were you, worried like that?”

Amrita nodded, this time scooting over to wrap an arm around her daughter-in-law, in the hope of comforting her. “It’s not something I can convince you of, but I will tell you one thing…you’re in much safer hands than I was back then. Ab toh sab safety measures hote hai, aur tum yahaan ho, Kingston mein. Sab kuch acha hi hoga,” she said softly before giving her another smile. “Aur pata hai beti, Devraj tumhe himmat deta hoga, lekin maine dekha hai usse—asliyat main tum uski himmat ho.” 

Kajal couldn’t really believe the words she was hearing from the other woman and found a few tears already forming in her eyes as she quickly brushed them away, “main bas…sab ko khush rakhna chahti hoon ma,” she whispered before taking a deep breath, unsure of what else to say before she heard Amrita speak.

“Arre Kajal, tum already sab ko kitna khush kar chuki ho, tumhe pata bhi hai? Haan maana ke main shuruvaat mein itni khush nahi thi, lekin tum…itni pyaari ho beti, ke tumse pyaar ho hi jaata hai aur phir jab main Dev ki khushi dekhti hoon na, toh lagta hai ke tumhare siva aur koi nahi woh kar sakhta mere bete ke liye…mere parivaar ke liye.” 

All of this was incredibly overwhelming for Kajal as she nodded, still wiping those tears away before her mother-in-law spoke up again. “Acha ab bas. No more crying, warna mera beta mujhe daantega ke maine uski biwi ko rula diya,” she teased before standing and bringing the plate closer. 

“Pata nahi tumhe yeh check kiya hai ke nahi, lekin yeh sonth ke laddoo hain aur pata hai ke bahot tasty nahi hote…lekin tumhare liye aur baache ke liye bahot faida ke liye hota hai. I know it’s a bit hot, but I promise you’ll be okay. Aur haan…aaj ke baad roz laongi,” she smiled before giving a soft kiss to Kajal’s forehead.  

Kajal couldn’t help the wide smile that appeared on her round face, the dimple shining through as she stared at the woman who at one time hadn’t been able to accept her as her daughter-in-law and now today was being the most welcoming, maternal figure in her life—enough to make her feel the warmth and comfort that she missed receiving from her own mother who was still back in Delhi. As her mother-in-law left the bedroom, she found herself eager to speak to her husband—wanting to tell him about all the things that had just occurred between her and her mother (in-law).

[arcxnumvitae]

Who/What inspired my muses

Part 3 what do unbroken fingers feel like

Minglian: Okay, so this was around the time all the stuff with Qingshan went down. As I had established with Zhaohui earlier, I was going to need a replacement Red Eye. Minglian actually became a concept around early 2020 and didn’t actually come into play until maybe October or so of that year? Later on, at least. She went without a name for a while too while in the simmering stages. At the time, Huaxiu was a kind of different person in his capability for sweetness and caring, so with the thought that now he’d be the one to be the teacher and the guide for this new being, I just kinda thought of all the ways in which that would affect him. From the get-go, Minglian and Huaxiu were meant to have a special bond, and it was through his care Minglian that a lot of the jagged edges left from some of Huaxiu’s past trauma began to smooth over.

Zhaohui: Here we go. Like I had said earlier, Zhaohiu was actually created years before, around when Huaxiu was. It started when I reblogged one of those “send in a fc and I’ll make a muse from it” memes. Angie sent in the fc and I didn’t know anything about the series he was from other than knowing it was some books that Kirei cried sitting in her car once while reading? I actually have the original notes where I was jotting down ideas for him! (I actually have them for a few muses now that I’m looking). Basically, my thought was still of someone who had a job, screwed the pooch (seriously, what is up with that saying?), and was punished for it. A curse of some form was also involved. Mainly, I made Zhaohui to be a double-agent in what was going on with Qingshan, someone who sided with her but planned to throw her to the wolves for his own machinations. He wasn’t fully a Red Eye at the time of plotting but he ended up one as time went on. After Qingshan’s stuff happened and his curse was removed, I was already adding Minglian and decided, eh why not, and added him too.

Ruaidhri: I realized I hadn’t added a single fae past Aur? Not a single muse from where he was from? I decided to rectify that. This is also where you can see my little brain starting to do some schemes with the overarching plot regarding the fae.

Zhifeng: As Kirei said in her post, she said something to the effect of “wanna do two con muses based on The R.oad to E.l Do.rado?” And who am I to refuse? Zhifeng really started to take form after we watched the movie, and really started to solidify as I was listening to Annapantsu’s version of It’s Tough to Be a God. Especially the line and especially the tone in which she sang, “And who am I to bridle if I’m forced to be an idol? If they say that I’m a god then that’s what I am!” I remember playing that part over and over again just luxuriating in the inspiration juices that flowed from it.

Eilidh: Baby I’m making the fae brown too. Plus, H.ades and P.ersephone from H.adestown. Specifically their “Chant” songs. And, while they’re not the same types, of quirky, I think some of her quirkiness came from Amber Gray’s amazing portrayal of P.ersephone. Go listen to H.adestown. Oh! Also F.earne from C.ritical R.ole.

Aodh: The other half of the duo of H.ades and P.ersephone from H.adestown. Particularly the way H.ades is, like, super in love with his wife. I was thinking the pining from the Epics, Epic III specifically, and super the bitter tone from Hades’ parts in Chant II and Chant Reprise linked above. Unfortunately, Aodh didn’t end up nearly as cool and “weighty” as H.adestown’s Hades.

Tomoe: I had been going really hot and heavy with the supernatural muses so I thought I’d buff up the normal human section to give more of a selection to any mutuals who wanted more grounded stories. And, sigh, yes, Steph, my ongoing love of R.iza H.awkeye and my love for her dynamic with R.oy hahaha.

Kasemchai: Babes, I wish I could tell you. I saw the fc and wanted to use it, from there I thought a naga would be interesting, a constant theme you’ll notice.

Tara: I wanted to explore things from Aur’s sister’s pov, since all that had been presented was his knowledge and thoughts on her plans to assassinate him. Inspirations? Mary Derrington from C.ritical R.ole (Taryon’s younger sister). And A.zula from A.vatar. So, a lot of better suited/kinda cutthroat younger sister vibes clearly.

Zaisan: Another one from Angie’s deity pantheon. Specifically me tying him into Matthias’ backstory as the one who took his eye.

Saori: @strawberryxdreams wanted to do sibling muses! So we worked out the background and home stuff together.

Etienne: I have a pretty and otherworldly fc but what if he was literally just a Dude?

Amelie: Arata’s daughter! If we sort of time jump to the future where she’s older! I thought her story was an interesting one and seeing how it played out in the future would be interesting too but she was like an npc and also 7, pft. The more interesting things happens when she’s older though since I have already actually worked out future stuff for her, so I said there was no other way to get to the good part other than jumping there.

Iomhar: What if I made a fae gentry and also made him a himbo? I thought it’d be a funny foil to how duplicitous the fae are usually portrayed as.

Taichiro: It was posed to me, “you’re going to become a lawyer, how come you don’t have a muse that does law?” Which was a thought. That I then completely undermined by placing him in an entirely different country with its own legal system so that my three years of hard-earned knowledge meant absolutely nothing anyways. Whoops? I also wanted to add more players to Tomoe’s stuff and the Kurosawa group that she works for.

Kaisei: Horns. No, no he has to be human because of the lore, no horn. But....horns? 👀 Gentle giant. Sorta came to be influenced by a joke of a guest character in C.ritical R.ole, Calianna, someone who’s 1/10 dragon-- “Okay, which ancestor climbed something they weren’t supposed to?”

Anja: More Bastion and also what if I made a snarky little shit for funsies. The last name was just a fun little nod to G.enshin’s K.aeya.

Ed: “I want another god-touched.” Also, what if I had a muse that was just, “’women’.” That’s it, that’s the inspiration. Athena’s always been my favorite of the bunch since my middle school beginning PJO days so it was high time I did something with her.

[theprissythumbelina]

Incorrect Quotes!

@the-void-writes tagged me, and I love this game, so thank you quite kindly. I decided to do my favorite sisters from my sci-fi wip, so no shipping, but much dumbassery (mostly from Haira, but Aure is not excluded) Rules: Use this incorrect quotes generator to create incorrect quotes for your characters, and tag as many people as quotes you post. 

Haira: This was almost a great idea. Aure: You just described 90% of our stuff.

Haira: I think it’s time I get my life in order. Aure, narrating: But they did not get their life in order. In fact, they got drunk last night and fought a raccoon.

Haira: How does one turn their emotions off? Aure: Okay, so first go to settings. Aure: I'm a fucking idiot, I thought that said emojis at first. Haira: No, I'm still willing to try this, go ahead. I'm at settings, what do I do next?

Haira: Aure, we tried things your way. Aure: No, we didn't. Haira: I did it in my head and it didn't work.

Aure: Haira, you're testifying in an aggravated assault case tomorrow, and the D.A. is worried about how you'll present yourself on the stand. Haira: Why? I'm fine on the stand! *flashback to Testimony #1* Haira: Look, I'll make this real simple so even these dumdums can understand. Haira, to the jury: MAN DID CRIME. *flashback to Testimony #2* Haira: I'm sorry, could you make her stop doing that weird thing with her face? Defense Attorney, next to the crying defendant: ...Crying? *flashback to Testimony #3* Haira: And when this is over, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna break those little fingers. Judge: Could the witness please stop threatening the stenographer?

Tagging for more personal enjoyment, @zmwrites , @kittensartswriting , @thewriteflame , @thecraftdragon , @aschlindartroom

[thepinkwriterr]

Capricorn Season Chapter Sixteen Part Two

Hello! I ask that you forgive my lapse in posting... I just started college and it’s kicking my ass! I am also going through a lot of issues interpersonally (sigh... why is love so hard?) 

Anyway, we join the gang back at Bron-Yr-Aur for the last part here! This continues from Robert’s POV. This chapter was co-written by my lovely friend @anothercanyonlady ! She has helped me from the begining and is always wonderful. I thank her very much for her work on this (and every other) chapter! Enjoy. 

--

The sun hid behind thick, grey clouds. Although it was mid-morning the world was still washed in muddy blue with edges of sharp white. I was hit by cold air as I stepped into the wet grass just beyond the front door. 

Carmen rushed out past me with Maureen following suit. I was left with Jimmy in the doorway, looking out at the expanse of green and grey. The earth was awakening today, blinking and bright. Flowers were popping open like eyes of sleepy children in the premature morning. Dew misted the blanket of grass that covered the glacial dirt.

Just days ago, flakes of snow coated limbs of trees that coiled and snaked into the ground. Now pops of green and orange created sparks in contrast to the terrible monotony of the spiritless British climate.

I was happiest here, it seemed. I was happier here than I'd been in months. Working endlessly was killing me, stripping the paint off my walls. I longed for a break and peace, stamina was making my bones ache. 

Like the rising of a beautiful song, Spring erupted around me. The grass tickled my ankles as I made my way to the middle of the yard, a tangle of picnic items in my arms, and I laid out the quilted comforter that Jimmy found in the tiny closet by his room. As it fluttered to the ground I saw the patterned squares of galloping horses, pink roses, and green taffeta. The stitching that held each square together was tight, showing the neat craftsmanship of the creator. I wondered who made it, assuming it was the same person who made the afghan in the parlor. 

Carmen scurried underneath before the blanket could settle. I smiled and started flapping it up and down. Her giggles filled my ears. She screamed with glee and her little face flashed as I lifted the blanket, then disappeared as it sunk back to the ground around her frame.

“More!” She cried, her voice desperate with laughter. 

Strider joined Carmen under the blanket and I poked my head in. “We’re supposed to sit on top of it, my dear.”

“More!” She demanded. 

I crawled underneath with her and sat up, creating a fort. “More? More of what? More of this?” I began tickling her sides. She squealed in delight. Her face was doused in a warm, golden haze from the sun shining through the thin quilt. Her round cheeks were soft and rosy, I’d never seen a face so sweet.

Maureen sat a basket down in the grass and grinned, she knelt to take out the victuals. “I don’t know who’s is whos’,” She pulled out four sandwiches and a bowl of cut-up melon and grapes.

“Juice!” Carmen wiggled out of my grasp and crawled out from under the blanket.

“Use your words, love,” Maureen held the sippy cup.

“I get juice now, please.”

“Good enough,” Maureen sighed. 

Carmen grabbed it and furiously suckled the cup, stopping to catch her breath and then back to the juice.“Slow down, you’ll make yourself sick drinking it that fast,” Maureen scolded. 

I flattened the blanket. “You’re a thirsty, lass, that’s all!” I patted her back as she chugged away. 

The bubbling of the nearby creek sounded in my ears, “That stream must be thawing, how about a swim?” I grinned at Maureen.

“Yay, swim!” Carmen cheered.

“Oh no no no, don’t put that idea into her head, it’s too cold!” 

“I’m sure it isn’t,” I argued. 

Jimmy appeared around the opening of trees holding his guitar and 8-track, then sat down on the blanket next to Carmen and me. Maureen passed out the sandwiches and they all tried to enjoy the chirping and bubbling around them while Carmen was momentarily silenced. 

The whole world was entrenched in a deep green field surrounded by trees that went on for miles and the only entrance was a small trail through the forestry. Soft grass and clover flowers blanketed the space.

Carmen tugged on my hair and pulled my ear up to her,

“Ow!” I groaned as she began to speak. 

“Daddy, can we go swim, now?” She whispered into my ear. 

“Mummy said no, love,” I whispered back.

“Pleeaase?” Her whine was convincing, but I had to be strong. 

“No.” I dragged out the vowel to extenuate my clause. 

The toddler huffed and her eyebrows furrowed, “Biscuit, please.” Carmen requested. Maureen opened a tin of biscuits and dropped one in her hand. It wasn’t before she’d popped the lid back on before Carmen had scarfed down the pastry and asked for another.

“Baby, you’ve only eaten a bite of your sandwich. How about you finish this half before another cookie?” I tried to reason with her. That was a fool’s errand… Toddlers don’t have very good deductive reasoning skills. It’s surprising how much you have to teach them! 

Carmen huffed once again and crawled over to Jimmy’s guitar that lay face up. She plucked three of the strings and looked up at Jimmy with a mischievous look in her eye.

“Would you like to play?” Jimmy asked.

She nodded, she was still a little shy of Jimmy.

He picked it up, “You hold it like this, and you press these strings to change the note.” His fingers wrapped around the neck. He strummed a chord. She pulled one of the strings, making it slap back onto the board, “Ack, careful! You gotta be gentle with the strings or they’ll break.” She ran her fingers down the strings, up and down, squealing as the guitar rang loudly.

“She’s a natural, better than what I can do!” I chimed in, ruffling her hair. I was brimming with pride at her musical inclination. I figured it was about time to get her interested in such things, just as Bonham had done with Jason. He had that boy banging on the drum at three weeks old. 

I was impressed with Jimmy’s openness with Carmen. He guarded those guitars with his life, and to see him duetting with her was adorable. It was a miracle watching him open up. 

Carmen went back to disassembling her sandwich. Her attention was as short as her body. Jimmy looked a bit disappointed, another surprise. But he put the guitar aside and went back to finish his sandwich. But when he looked over he found Strider running away with it. He sighed and reached over for the biscuit tin.

I fell back to lay my head across Maureen’s lap and smiled at her. The sun's rays gleamed around her head. Her otherwise black hair was a lovely chocolate shade in the sun. It fell in fat coils with a tasteful amount of frizz and reached her shoulders. I couldn’t help but reach up and twirl it around. 

“What?” she smiled back.

“Can I not have a look at my woman? Especially one so exquisite…”

“Exquisite?” she scoffed, “What am I, a meal?” She said in insolence. I grinned mischievously before she popped a grape into my mouth then leaned over to kiss me. 

Her lips were sugary and soft like the tender fruit of a freshly peeled orange slice. She was like summer, sweet and welcome with a biting heat. I longed for her just the same, waiting and wanting for the feeling of sweat trickling down my chest. She was a tree, untapped and endlessly flowing with saccharine sap. And I loved her. I loved her, I loved her, I loved her, just as one would love the sun in the sky and the fresh blooms surrounding 

After this exchange, Carmen quickly shoved a piece of melon into my mouth and pecked me on the corner of my mouth. I had barely enough time to recover from the grape. Maureen and I laughed haughtily. I quickly sat up and grabbed the two-year-old and squeezed her tight. 

“What sweet girls,” I said with glee. She escaped my grasp after enduring for a couple of seconds. She grabbed a triangle of white bread and waddled away with Strider trailing behind.

Jimmy picked at his guitar and noodled away. 

“Where is she going?” Maureen sighed and started after the two.

“I like that sound, Pagey.”

“Yeah, I was thinking it could be pretty upbeat.” He began a pattern of plucking and smacking, plucking, smacking. 

I moved my shoulders up and down with the fast beat. Lyrics began to swirl in my head, an image of a dog and jostling trees in the wind. I was taken by his talent and wrapped in his musical charm. His little wizard fingers danced up and down the fretboard as he created one of the best sounds I’d ever heard. My eyelids fluttered closed and bolted shut as I locked in on a set of lines. 

Angels singin' all 'round my door, so fine. Ain't but one thing to do, spend my natural life with you… 

The notion swam into my thoughts like heaven’s mandate, so simple but effective. I could hear the angels calling and see the door of the cottage as a nebulous image, one created by his strumming. He was still going on and on with the strings, playing something I didn’t even know he had the penchant for. 

“Carmen Jane Plant!” Maureen’s words were a shrill, shrieking end to our musical peace. Jimmy and I cocked our heads over to the stream, the direction her screaming was aimed at. 

Then came the howling, not from the dog, but Carmen crying. I scurried to get up, driven by mad adrenaline, the kind only a parent who hears their child in distress could muster. I tripped over myself as I started to run. Jimmy sat down his guitar and drew his attention to deep-set water. He didn’t dare go to meet us, too afraid of what occurred and Maureen’s anger to come. 

“Are you okay, my poor girl?” Maureen swaddled Carmen in her jacket as the toddler clung to her, wailing. 

“What happened?” I asked, my feet just too slow to reach my poor child. I could feel Maureen’s unrelenting eyes bearing into me already. She was firing daggers into my chest and face. 

“She decided to take a swim,” she glared at me, referencing the suggestion I’d made earlier.

“Oh, Mo, I’m sorry, I didn’t think she-” Maureen has already walked a ways past me, back to the quilt.

“I’m just gonna take her back to the house,” she called back to me, her tone still angry. Carmen hadn’t stopped her assault on our ears. I put my hand on my hip and itched the back of my head, watching her go. 

I turned my attention to the water and kicked myself as the stream carried itself down rocks and twigs, over __ and through piles of dead leaves. It raged on despite the circumstances, no matter what it encountered. The water always prevailed. 

“What’s wrong?” Jimmy paced up to me, guitar strung around his back, 8-track in hand. Maureen had packed up the blanket, I could see as I looked over his shoulder. The basket sat lonesome, contents splayed in the grass. 

“Carmen just got into the stream and now Mo’s pissed at me for some reason,”

Jimmy sighed. “She’s probably just upset,” He soothed. 

Strider ran past us, downstream, into the shadowy trees. “Strider!” I called and took off after him. 

“For fucks’ sake,” Jimmy exclaimed under his breath, “Robert, we can’t go trampling around in the woods, I’ve got 500 pounds worth of equipment!” His voice was desperate as he reluctantly followed suit.

I came to the break in land, faced with either crossing the stream or losing my dog. I happily hopped across the water, resting on some rocks and leveraging my weight over in some mud, and splashed in the water to get to him on the other side. Water seeped into the canvas of my converse as I heard Jimmy whining behind me. 

“I can’t get in! I’ll drop my stuff.” 

I turned to look at him and sighed, impatient and irritable. He was one more person pissing me off today. He was worse than Carmen! I half expected him to start sobbing when I protested, “be a man! It’s just a guitar, you’ll be fine.” 

“This was expensive! And this 8-track has been with me for the last four years. I spent the very last of my studio money on this. If I mess it up now we won’t have any recording equipment and this trip will all be for nothing! I can’t-” 

“Oh, shut it! I don’t care! I have to get my dog.” I carried on without another word, shoveling through heaps of fallen leaves from the towering oak trees that shaded the watery dirt from the nonexistent sun. 

I clamored into the trees, my feet smashed into the mud as I chased after the dog. I could see spots of caramel fur through the trees as I ran wildly. Strider was fast, running faster than he ever had before. The wind was whistling in my ears and fighting against my lungs. 

I began chasing after the dog, dodging past the trees and skipping over roots. Dangling branches heralding leaves and berries whacked me in the face as I trudged over rocks and roots. I tried to push them out of the way as I clomped through the forest, but there wasn’t enough time. I had to find Strider. 

As I ran, I imagined Maureen’s bitter bite when I told her I lost the dog. Her pursed lips bent into a frown and she stepped away with Carmen on her hip. It had happened once before. I had lost him before. 

It was a year ago, right before I went back on tour. I took him out for a walk around the property right after we moved out of Mo’s parent’s house. I had just gotten him and he was getting accustomed to the new house, just as we were. 

He slipped out of his collar and took off when he saw a car coming down the road. He started to chase after it and I lost him when he took a sharp turn. I looked everywhere for two hours. 

I finally had to give up and go back home, faced with the shame of having to tell my wife I lost our new dog. I kicked myself the whole walk home. 

When I returned he was sitting on the front porch, chin rested on paw. Maureen sat in the rocking chair behind him, feeding Carmen. 

I could feel hot tears brimming in my eyes. My face was cold and bitten by the wind that whipped my face. I brushed the tip of my nose as I came to a clearing. Strider was nowhere to be found. 

The same feeling of panic and pain filled my chest as that day last year. It seemed Strider had a penchant for making me worry. 

I slumped over, hands on knees, and took deep breaths in and out. I was winded, I hadn’t run like that in years. My adrenaline was beginning to wear off as my thoughts became more lucid. 

I was angry with him. I was angry that I had let him off the lead and trusted him. I was angry that I had to chase him. But most of all, I was scared. I couldn’t hear his bark or footsteps anymore and began worrying. 

I imagined him lost and scared, or that he’d fallen into a hole. I worried another animal had found him, one that he could not fight off. He was no stray wolf, after all. 

Just as my thoughts began to spiral I heard him once more. He was barking just ahead of me. I could see him through the trees now. He was walking closer to me. Finally, some sense out of the ole boy! 

I walked closer to him and called out. I yelled his name once, twice. He stayed firm in his stance. He was on guard. 

“Strider, c’mon! We’re goin’ back to the house,” I said, cupping my hands around my mouth. A twig snapped under my heavy boot. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I just wanted out of the cold and to have Strider once again. 

His face came into view. I was a few feet from him, watching as he took off again. I groaned. I threw my head back and ran after him once more. I was beginning to feel angry again. 

I stamped through dead leaves and roots, over rocks, and through ant hills. I had no steam left but kept rolling. I could see Strider ahead, his legs working overtime. He took a sharp turn to the left and we headed back through the vegetation, now en route back to the cottage. 

I came to the stream once more. Jimmy stood in the middle of the water, watching Strider as he splashed around. He stopped and looked at me, barking and panting. It was all a game, I realized. He was testing me, angry that I hadn’t given him enough attention today. Unbelievable! He took off once more and I rolled my eyes as he stopped just downstream, staring and waiting. 

I stopped my groveling when Jimmy began his own. I realized that he wasn’t just languishing in the water on this glorious four-degree day, instead, he was stuck. His galoshes were welded into the earth by thick mud, the bottom of his rubber rain boots forged into the stream by mother nature herself. 

I began howling with laughter as he bitterly seceded and sat on a stump just below him. I doubled over, my hands on my knees, and shuddered with relieved laughter. I hadn’t lost the dog and Jimmy hadn’t dropped his guitar. 

“It’s not funny!” He grimaced, “what am I gonna do? I’m stuck!” 

His whining was no longer humorous and I was feeling the fatigue of my forest frolicking. “Just get over it, mate, it’s a little mud!” 

He groaned and slumped over. 

I was filled with adrenaline and I couldn’t be bothered to stay still. I paced along the bank caked in yellow and brown leaves, the crunch following every step I took. 

The earth was still dim and dead but was awakening. The morning had given way to the afternoon. The sun was beginning to peek out from behind the cloud, ever so slightly. I surmised it was almost one o’clock. I hoped it was, anyway. I began to feel hungry. It seemed our breakfast in the grass hadn’t fulfilled me. 

I turned back to Jimmy to see that he’d slipped his feet from his boots and was now sitting criss-cross on the stump. His boots sat straight up as if his feet were still in them. I blew a puff of humored air from my nose. 

“You didn’t drop your guitar,” I commented, cocking my head. 

“No, I didn’t,” he answered bitterly. 

I huffed and turned around, admiring the towering trees that surrounded us. I hadn’t had a chance to really take them in while I was running. But they were beautiful. Iron-clad arms broke off from the main trunk and stretched miles into the sky, fingers spread. Large leaves were beginning to form, their dead incarnate lying under my feet. 

I heard more splashing and turned back around to see Strider. I rolled my eyes at the dog but he made his way to me. He jumped onto the bank and stood before me. He dropped a large stick, covered in lichen, at my feet. He wagged his tail and sat, his glossy eyes looking up at me. 

I shook my head, laughing, and bent over to pick up the stick. “Thank you, Strider, good boy,” I scratched between his ears, his favorite spot, and smiled down at him. How could I be mad when he just wants to play? 

I threw the stick across the water and it landed on the other side in a pile of dead leaves. Strider ran for it, jumping clear over the stream.

“Ain’t no companion like a blue-eyed merle,” I sniggered, watching as he laid down to chew on the stick. 

I saw Jimmy just then, his grimace mending into a grin. “Ah, caught you smiling!” I pointed, a laugh tumbling from both of our lips. 

He bent his neck down and hid his face from view. I could tell he was still laughing, though. 

With his spirits raised, his frown now thoroughly turned upside-down, he brought his guitar from his back and began to strum. His fingers worked along the strings quickly. The lithe fingertips were moving from chord to chord, a display of magic. To keep the allegro I began to clap and stomp. 

“Ah, caught you smilin’ at me, that’s the way it should be… Like a leaf is to a tree, so fine!” I began to sing, words seemingly coming to me magically. 

“All the good times we had, I sung love songs so glad. Always smiling, never sad, so fine.” I looked to Jimmy to ensure he was feeling the same energy I was. He wore a broad smile and nodded with every stomp. 

I pictured the mud tracks in the driveway, and how Strider’s paws fit within them as we made for the front door. I could see the house now, as I opened my eyes to see the brick facade. “As we walk down the country lanes, I'll be singing a song, hear me calling your name. Hear the wind within the trees, telling Mother Nature 'bout you and me.” 

“My, my, la la la, come on now, it ain't too far. Tell your friends all around the world ain't no companion like a blue-eyed Merle!” I called to Strider, watching his ears perk up. 

Now I saw Gwen, sitting at home with her books and tea. I wished she were here to see us. I think she would’ve had a lovely time. I saw the two Johns with their kids, content with their time off. I was sad they hadn’t come either. “Come on now, well, let me tell you what you're missing, messin' 'round them brick walls.” 

I stopped singing, winded and out of words. I left Jimmy to take it for a moment. He began noodling, as he often did. His fingers danced up and down, creating a repeating, jangling lick that rang into the trees and reverberated. 

“So of one thing I am sure, it's a friendship so pure. Angels singing all around my door, so fine. Yeah, ain't but one thing to do, spend my natural life with you.” I smiled as I sang at him, watching his face morph into a grin as he registered my words. 

“You're the finest dog I knew, so fine!” I sang now to Strider, who was at attention from our singing. “When you're old and your eyes are dim, there ain't no old Shep gonna happen again, we'll still go walking down country lane.” He began to wander off toward the cottage, stick in his mouth. 

“I'll sing the same old song, hear me call your name,” I watched as he continued toward the cottage. 

“Strider!” I called over Jimmy’s brash assault on his strings. He stopped playing and Strider stopped in his tracks. 

The play button on the 8-track was pressed in. Jimmy had recorded us mucking about, and surely it would end up on the album. I hoped it would, it was a wonderful tune. 

-

We were all giggles and smiles as we made our way back to the cottage. Jimmy had pulled his boots from the mud and we got across the water without another casualty. The sun was out now, lighting our way as we entered the cottage. 

“Do you think Bonzo will like it? It’s a bit softer than he’d like,” Jimmy said, retrieving two mugs from the cabinet above the sink. 

“I think if we let him do the stomping he’ll be just fine,” I laughed. 

Jimmy leaned against the cabinets as he let out a howling laugh, the mugs abandoned next to his clutching hands. 

“You two be quiet! Carmen is napping,” Maureen scolded, her lips pursed. 

I grimaced, turning away from her to hide my laughter. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Jimmy said, covering his mouth to stop his chortling. 

Taglist: 

@anothercanyonlady , @jonesyjonesyjonesy , @paginate54 , @seventieswhore , @jimmypages , @jimmys-zeppelin

[thesecretattic]

REAAADDDD aaaa aaana saale aaaa dramatic Harsh always uptight n proud aaaa 2018 waali meri original design waala face leke aa. Meri design aur dusro mein baata even when it was not going to pain them READ how it was my design n why the pain in prev posts read all my my posts from 24 hrs. Read My face n hhhands are brning. 5 ppl dead already. I have our soulmate proof head is bursting wid pain but I won’t rest it on anybody else’s lap only his that too his 2018 version THATS it n I l’ll have to be younger as well cuz I’m 29 now and he was 30 back then has to have the same 7 year gap or else I won’t be over pampered he won’t care. Read about ovulation etc. Those guys whom he’s fking don’t have those needs yet even after having wives they’re after MY GUY. I kept clenching my teeth n BEATING MYSELF VERY BADLY SO MUCH I HAVE FEVER when I kept saying I WILL NOT MARRY AN ILLITERATE ROADSIDE UGLY CREEP U didn’t understand? SO STAY AWAY OR I WILL GO TO THE POLICE and lodge a complaint against them for causing me depression and show my reports and torture.

Since Cov times they have my guy’s watch ear studs etc. He should’ve strapped them on my hand see my pics yet he kept me a virgin all my life MOREOVER pls find the “Water post” from 12th June parts 1-5 & Cov & Anubis post read how AWFUL (including police) my condition was even the home abuse in high fever and had to eat antibiotics on empty stomach was kept hungry for 24 hrs and beaten in an underlying pain illness which Harsh gave me at 21 itself read that post see what I was going thru yet even after 11 years from the age of 18 he’s making me die a virgin and read WHO HE WAS SERVING and MAKING LOVE GIVING LOVE TO when I needed him the most during Cov the most challenging times find Anubis, Cov and that Water post on Fb that other person has been wearing ear studs since 2020 Cov times I NEEDED HIM THE MOST HE HAD a partner I didn’t yet he STOLE my guy this other guy who was competing with me is 13-14 yrs older than me.