#Sunray Weaver

[wannabepoeticischiya]

everything you didn't do, and all that you did (for Gojo Satoru)

ao3: everything you didn't do, and all that you did (for Gojo Satoru) pairing: gojo satoru x f! reader genre: angst wc: 2.3k status: one shot

It wouldn't matter—the many sorry they say, I tell them that it wouldn't matter. They're meaningless. But they say it anyway. They say it over and over again that it rains down on me like a never-ending storm. A torrential downpour of apologies for something they didn't do. A phenomenon they had no control over. Saying sorry because they know that the one thing that would end this unforgiving winter of unhappiness... was something they couldn't give to me.

They say sorry because they can't bring you back.

I remember it clearly. As the light rain falls without reason. I see the image of you so vividly that I have to keep telling myself that it’s nothing more than a memory—a little stutter in time where a different version of you lives. It comes crashing against me like a tidal wave: slowly, hesitantly, then all at once.

When I remember those moments, I see how dramatic and ordinary they seem—that in the grand tapestry of destiny, they might have been the little slips and missed knots the weavers would make.

In this world riddled with lies, they remain. They flourish endlessly like the flowers in the garden, like shadows linger around daylight, like the sunrays graze the horizon.  

Every passing day, I am reminded of them. I see your eyes in the color of the heavens, your hair in the fall of snow… I feel your love around me. I hear it echo. I watch it wither. I feel it… slipping away. Haunting. Loving. Painful. 

Because the price for all this quietness was you, Satoru.

A debt heaven and hell will owe me in full until the end of time, until the last of the embers burn into oblivion, until the very foundation of this universe crumbles into nothingness.

How great a curse it was to have let us meet… only for them to tear us apart. How great a sin it is to love only for it to fall short of forever. What damnation it is to live in a world where another has gone.

Even still… what I wouldn’t give to have you here again. Even for a moment longer. Just to see you—ask if you’re alright—tell you that I… that I miss you.

There’s only so long someone can live before loneliness starts to creep in. The shoes by the door is one pair short. The keys next to mine are untouched. Breakfast is enough for one. The laundry is fewer. The space beside me is cold.

The silence is deafening.

The lights are dimmer.

The colors… a little less vibrant, and suddenly the world is black and white.

And I’m left here remembering it all.

Standing amidst all this emptiness thinking of a time that can never be brought back; moments I can no longer go to. Because it’s the only thing I can do. It’s the only way to have you here even it’s momentary. I think about it. Everything. Remembering it all; a sad consolation price for the glaring emptiness—a life devoid of you.  

Do you remember the day when I accidentally spilled chocolate all over your new shirt?

“It’s not coming off—Shoko! Help me!” She pleads, patting down the shirt with tissue to try and get the substance out.

“Put it in the washer, [Name].”

“But he’ll be here in just a few—”

“Heya! Suguru told me you guys had my shirt…” His words were put to a stop when his classmate knelt in front of him all so suddenly and kowtowed.

I thought you’d yell at me…

[Name] gripped at the cloth of this pants and apologized profusely for ruining his clothes, swearing on her honor that she’ll pay him back—even if the price was more than what she could make in a year’s-worth of assignment.

She was close to crying, panicking from thinking where on earth she’ll get the money for that.

Yet all Satoru did was laugh, kneeling to level with her who was still on the ground… just to wipe her tears away.

But you didn’t.

It was so long ago, and you probably wouldn’t remember but to me, your kindness meant everything. In this world littered with all this wickedness, it was a comforting thought that the strongest sorcerer alive… was kind.

Remember that day when you found me crying at the courtyard?

“What’s wrong, [Name]?”

It was a sunny day, everyone had nothing to do, and all the assignments had been taken care of. Honestly, you could have had done something a lot more worthy of your time than comfort a crying girl in the middle of the day.

“It’s Miya-san,” she confesses, wiping away the treacherous tears that wouldn’t cease their descent.

“The monkey from the convenience store?” Satoru asks in surprise; he seemed genuinely shocked by the revelation that it caused [Name] to laugh.

“Calling him a monkey is rude, you know.” She sniffs, clutching the handkerchief that was so graciously given to her by the one sitting beside her.

“He is one.” Satoru insists, crossing his arms over his uniform-clad chest, mumbling something incoherent to the girl next to him. ‘Because he made you cry…’

[Name] looked far into the distance, completely oblivious to the yearning gaze from the white-haired sorcerer. “I thought he’d be the one. Like a chance to escape this ridiculous world of curses and cursing. It almost felt like a chance to live a normal life.”

I thought you’d laugh at me for that. It was stupid. I was stupid. In our world, there was no such thing as ‘normal’. You probably knew that—I knew that you knew that. It was your chance to shatter my delusions. To ruin my fantasy; give me the drive to pursue this career of killing curses. So, I expected you to laugh. To get a kick out of your classmate wanting to run away.

“If I was him… I wouldn’t let you go.”

But you didn’t.

Remember our first anniversary, I forgot to tell you we were going to a theme park, and you ended up wearing an overly formal yukata?

I thought you’d head straight on home…

But you didn’t.

You were kind beyond reason, I hope you know that. You were more than just a sorcerer, more than all the power in this finite universe. You weren’t born simply to bear the heaviness of a fate you had no choice but to accept—I refuse to believe that.

If the heavens ask how I know, I’ll tell them it’s because I was lucky enough to love and be loved by you.

Remember that day I mixed up the laundry and shrank half your clothes? I thought you’d hate me—

“I’m not angry, [Name].” He laughs, eyes disappearing behind the curtains of his hair, rummaging about all his ruined clothes for something that would at least fit.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” She repeats that, over and over again, clutching the fabric of my own clothes in shame. The one time she wanted to do something nice for him, [Name] felt like she to go and mess it up and create more problems for Satoru.

So, I said sorry to you because it’s the only thing I can do—I tell that to him, but he still smiles, he still laughs… he continues to patiently look for something to wear.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he stops once he scavenged a black shirt, still warm from the dryer, “I’m not angry.”

He pulls the shirt over his head, momentarily getting stuck in the shrunken fabric as he tried to force his way through it.

When he managed to get in past his torso, all the signs pointed that it was far too tiny for him to wear. Satoru looked like he was wearing a child’s shirt. The way that the sleeves try their best to hold it together, the entire fabric desperately clung to the seams just to not come undone.

“Why not?” She asks; a futile attempt to get rid of all the guilt overflowing within her.

“Because I love you.”

I wasn’t used to being loved.

I wouldn't know what to do—what to say—heck I'm not even sure if I would know what to feel.

All my life, everyone made me feel like it was rotten work.

But you didn’t.

You never found fault in that.

You made it look so easy, like it was a delight—a privilege—when I’ve known nothing but contempt.

What about that day in autumn? I begged you to go to the seaside with me, and it began raining as you said it would…

“I’m sorry your birthday is in December, so nobody really cares.”

“You care, right?”

I thought you’d say, ‘I told you so.’

“Of course, I do! It’s the first thing I mark on my calendar!”

“Then that’s enough for me.”

But you didn’t.

Remember that one huge fight we had? I didn’t talk to you for days to spite you… and I really did. I thought it was over for us—that it was high time you’d get sick of me and leave…

But you didn’t.

There were lots of things you didn’t do.

But you stayed.

“Happy birthday, [Name]!”

You tried your best to understand.

“Hey, it’s okay…”

You loved me.

“I know you liked it so I bought it for you.”

Protected me.

There were lots of things I wanted to make up to you—to repay you even if it was just for a little bit. So, so many things I wanted to talk about, so many more things to show you that I love you… when you returned from Shibuya.

…but you didn’t.

When you left, you didn’t take any of your things.

Not the shoes by the door. The mug from your morning coffee. Your toothbrush on the sink. The blankets on the bed messy from when you slept. Your clothes in the closet. The cologne on the dresser.

And I kept it that way for so long.

Because it made it look like you were going to come home any day now. Foolishly, hopelessly… desperately, I kept it that way, as though if it stayed like that for long enough, you’ll be right there amidst all that chaos.

Your belongings scattered about, like you still exist in this world.

Because it was hard to let go. It’s hard to forget. And it’s hard not to remember you.  

It wouldn't matter—the many sorry they say, I tell them that it wouldn't matter.

They're meaningless. But they say it anyway.

They say it over and over again that it rains down on me like a never-ending storm. A torrential downpour of apologies for something they didn't do. A phenomenon they had no control over. Saying sorry because they know that the one thing that would end this unforgiving winter of unhappiness... was something they couldn't give to me.

They say sorry because they can't bring you back.

The one thing I want more than anything. The one person I love more than my own life. They can't bring you back. They know they can’t, so they compensate by saying these apologies. A sad consolation price for the glaring lack of your presence so it seems—the shattered picture of your memory.

You had many horrible memories, and I wanted you to be happy.

More than anything else… I wanted you… to not die.

Because Gojo Satoru… is the kindest person in the world.

---

“Ieri-sensei gave it to us.” Itadori stood before me holding a small envelope, his eyes piercing through my soul with all the bravery he could muster.

I could tell he was trying his best not to cry.

But even as he tried to be strong, even if he tried his hardest to make it look like it was all okay, it still hurt. It hurt all the same.

“One was addressed to you, [Name]-san.”

Of course, he’d make a backup plan. That idiot…

“Thank you, Itadori-kun.”

   Hey, [Name]! Gosh, where do I even begin? I know I said I’d be back in time for dinner, but it looks like it’s waaaay past that now, huh? At least tell me you put my share in the fridge hm? I promise I’ll eat it later!

   Make sure to check the heat setting on the dryer (keep it on low) so the clothes don’t shrink. The vacuum is by the broom closet, I forgot to return it to where you usually keep it so you might not find it. I fixed the clothesline by the balcony so you don’t have to go to the roof anymore, and I’ll get Megumi-chan to help you with the heavy sheets. I put an umbrella in your bag so you can go anywhere you want without having to worry about the rain.

   I’m sorry—I know you don’t like hearing that, especially when it comes from me… but forgive me just this once, please?

   I’m sorry I can’t bring home takeouts tonight, the job might keep me out longer than usual so please don’t wait up. Remember to check the lights, okay? Don’t leave them on. Check the windows and the door. Lock them up.

   If anything happens, take care of them for me.

   And take care of yourself.

   You deserve to be happy.

At the bottom end of the page was a little arrow and small scribbles of nearly unintelligible handwriting.

Written on the back with the ink all smudged with stains of little water droplets, bleeding through the rest of the characters:

   Do you think we’d have made it in another universe?

I feel like choking up. Thorns sink into the answers desperately clawing their way out of my throat, cutting them open like lightning splits the sky, leaving them to bleed like the rain falls—all at once, with little to no reason at all. We couldn’t even make it in this one, the truth tasted bitter, a mirror of reality so it seems.

Yet he thought differently. Always. He always thought differently.

   I think we would.

   You always tell me there’s an infinite amount of realities, that no two lives are the same. If this one is where I can’t come home to you, there’s one out there where I do.    

   And I’ll wait for you there. And this time, I’ll be the one to welcome you home, and I promise you… the next time, we’ll get it right.

   Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for letting me stay. Thank you for loving me and thank you for letting me love you. So many chances for so many things… over and over again, thank you. Thank you, [Name].

   I love you.

THIS STEMS FROM MY RECENT NIGHTS SPENT THINKING ABOUT GOJO AND THEN I START TO CRY BECAUSE HE'S GONE AND I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT 😭 Anyway, my requests/inbox are open if ya wanna scream at me for this cry ask or request something ✨Thank you for reading and for your support (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) Happy New Years! 🎆

[psielapki]

@weavewithin   &   kai'sa   /   unprompted

the weaver steals little glances, feet shuffling, fingers tracing over stone and dirt. nothing can usually steal her attention from the sun's good night song, it enchants her and lulls her deep into a dream broken only by the falling dark after the last red ray -- but now, oh now the sun has a formidable rival, winning the tug of war over the mage's heart. " I like you, " she says finally, her heart can't keep a single secret. " I like spending time with you, Kai'sa. "

                    𝘵���𝘭𝘪𝘺𝘢𝘩   𝘪𝘴   𝘴𝘸����𝘦𝘵   𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦   𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴   &   𝘢𝘭𝘭   𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴   𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘯   𝘢𝘯𝘥   𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮,   just   like   the   sand   shining   in   the   sunrays   on   the   path   ahead   ;   now,   cooling   off,   the   palette   of   oranges   &   reds   a   harbinger   of   a   cold   night   awaiting.

                    kai'sa   finds   herself   worrying   over   the   stone   -   bender.   she   could   easily   cross   the   desert   on   her   way   to   the   next   city   by   sheer   will   and   her   carapace   leading   on   auto   -   pilot,   but   she   wouldn't   ever   endanger   her   allies'   lives   if   that   wasn't   for   the   utmost   necessity.

                    they   could   camp   here,   far   away   from   any   living   beings   ;   put   up   a   tent   &   share   the   bedroll,   keep   watch   &   over   the   fire,   too.   kaI'sa   takes   everything   into   consideration   :   the   clothes   they   have   (   well,   taliyah   has,   the   void   -   shell   sufficient   enough   )   ;   the   temperature,   the   wind,   the   possibility   of   a   sandstorm,   the…

                    huh?

                    neon   -   violet   gaze   of   the   void's   daughter   redirects   towards   taliyah,   softening   in   an   instant.   carapace's   hood   melts   into   symbiotic   skin   &   kai'sa   narrows   her   eyes,   the   sun   still   too   bright   to   look   at   her   friend   directly.

                    are   these   butterflies   in   her   stomach,   or   is   it   the   parasite   trying   to   gain   more   power,   more   control   over   its   host?

                    ❝   i   like   you   too,   ❞   the   huntress   responds,   voice   gentle,   but   it's   like   she   misses   the   point   when   she   continues.   ❝   i'll   fight   by   your   side   till   the   bitter   end.   ❞

[better-name-for-rp-blog]

What colour is your love?

Burnt Orange

Your love is the color of the welcoming light of the lamp in the kitchen, of the warmth of the fireplace. You radiate lovely, cozy, caring energy. You are a great person to be around.

Light Yellow

Your love is the color of sunrays seeping through curtains, of light glittering on the ocean. Your love is a such a joy to have. It brings both peace and excitement.

Deep Blue

Your love is the colour of warm nights, of starlit skies and of deep waters. Your love is serious, everlasting. People value the deepness of it.

Tagging: @xmagicalpansexualpandax​, @game-weaver​, @little-yugi-muto-rp​, @mutogamingco​, @captivatedbyaibou​, and anyone else who’d like to participate!

[helmetkeeper]

Hello! I'm looking for some masculine name ideas for a Sniper-kin ; if you want to experiment with making it earth/forest/canine themed that'd be really swag

hello!! wasn’t too sure about how masc some of these names feel, but i hope you find something you like regardless!

there's not as much as i normally end up doing, but it's still quite the list so i put them under the cut 👍.

acacia

acacius

ace

ackley

acorn

affie

alaska

alfie

alpine

arbor

arc

archer

archie

arctic

aries

arthur

artus

ash

asher

ashford

ashton

aster

atlas

august

augustin(e)

augustus

avens

avery

bandit

baron

basil

bass

basset

bay

bear

beaumont

beck

beetle

ben

bengal

benji

benny

bentley

benton

berry

birch

birk

blackjack

blaze

blue

blume

bo, boe

bolt

bone

boomer

borage

border

boxer

bracker

bracket

bramble

briar

brick

brin

brock

bryce

bryn

buck

bud

bull

burr

bush

busher

bushie, bushy

butch

buzz

caelum, caylum

callum

cane, kane

canid

canine

canyon

cas

casey

caspian

cedar

cerberus

charcoal

charlie

cheddar

chen

chez

chow

cider

ciel

cinder

citrine

citron

citrus

clay

clement

cliff

cloud

coal

coast

cobalt

cobolt

cocoa

collie

colt

columbine

columbo

columbus

conan

cooper

copper

cove

coy

coyote

crane

crimson

crispin

crow

curry

cyan

cypress

dagwood

dak

dakota, dakoda

dale

dane

dante

darrah

darren

darrow

david

dawson

deacon

dean

declan

den

denis, denys

deniz

denver

derry

dhole

digger

dill

dingo

dipper

douglas

drake

duff(y)

duke

dulce

dune

dusk

dust

dustin

dusty

dutch

dutchen

east

eden

elvis

elwood

emerald

emerson

emery

everest

everett

evergreen

falcon

fallon

fang

farley

fennec

fennel

fergus

fews

fin, finn

finch

finley, finnley

fir

firth

fish

fisher

flax

flint

florence

florent

flynn

ford

forest

forester

frank

frankie

franklin

fraser, frazier, frasier, frazer

frost

gale(n)

gardner

gene

genesis

ginger

goldie

grain

grey, gray

grove(s)

hades

harvest

hawk(e)

hazel

heath

hercules

hive

holland

hound

hugo

hum

hummer

hunt

hunter

huntie, hunty

jack

jackal

jackie, jacky

jason

jasper

jay

jett

joey

jove

july

june

juniper

juno

jupiter

kai

kale

kestrel

kip

kippy, kippie

koa

koi

lake

lark

leo

loch

locust

lodge

lotis

lotus

lucky

lumen

lupin(e)

lupis

mace

magnus

mane(d)

mango

march

marley

marlow

marsh

marshal(l)

matchbox

maverick

max

meek

meer

merlin

mickey

mint(y)

mob(y)

moose

morgan

morris

moses

moss

mossy, mossie

nash

nasher

nicholas

noble

norman

north

nox

oak

oakie

odie

odin

oleander

olive(r)

olivier

ollie

oto

otter

otto

ottoman

packet(t)

pear

percival

percy

perry

perseus

picard

pickle

pine

pongo

prairie

prince

red, redd

reed, reid

ren

rhodes

rhody

ridge

rock(e)

rocky, rockie

roman

ronat

rook

root

rory

rover

rudy

rune

russel

salmon

samsun, samson

scruff

scruffy, scruffie

silver

silvester

skylark

smokey

sol

solei(l)

solomon

sorrel

south

spade

sparrow

spot

spruce

stag

sterling

stone

sun

sunray

talon

tawny

terran

terro

terry, terrie

theo

thistle

thor

thyme

titan

toms

trip

tunnel

turtle

velvet

vulp

vulpes

wade

wane

warbler

wax

waxer

weaver

wells

west

whistler

winston

wolf(e)

wood

woodrow

woodson

woody, woodie

york

zeus

[yarnusthegreat]

Chapter 69: Hu~ hu~ hu~ human?

Artwork commissioned from @charliedzilla (commission page)

Fandom: Undertale (Video Game)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Original Undertale Character(s)

Additional Tags: Roleplay Logs, Original Characters - Freeform, Unnamed Alternate Universe(s), Bara Sans, Smol Skeleton, Fell-ish Papyrus, Fluff and Smut and Adventure, AUcest, Size Difference, Ecto-tummy, Soul stuff, Combat, Near Death, Character Death, NSFW tagged per chapter

Summary:

Life was good on the Isle of Monsters, which leaves a small skeletal judge at a disadvantage when he wakes in the large and dangerous Void. With no knowledge of the Void or other universes at all, he has to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But the Void is full of strange kinds indeed. Perhaps they are in need of his help as much as he needs theirs.

The first being a huge version of a certain familiar blue parka wearing skeleton. Joining them is another familiar tall, thin, and pointy skeleton, and even an old yellow lizard.

https://yarnusthegreat.tumblr.com/ (All Ages)

https://discord.gg/jW3NYyN (18+ only please)

[jynxtaposition]

I just posted Chapter 66: Beautiful Skyn and now I can post this ‘lovely lady’.

[yarnusthegreat]

In Sunray Weaver we use these artistically for a bit before switching to random accents on vowels.

Not apologizing for it... just using it to show glitches in speaking.

To people who use "þ" as an aesthetic "p"

þink again.

[shamandrummer]

The Navajo Storm Pattern Rug

An excerpt from my soon-to-be released memoir, Riding Spirit Horse: A Journey into Shamanism.

Years ago, one of my shamanic mentors gifted me an old Navajo "storm pattern rug," recognizable by its large central rectangle connected by zigzag lightning lines to smaller rectangles in each corner, which represent the four directions, winds and sacred mountains of the Navajo. The central rectangle symbolizes the Lake of Emergence, the portal through which their ancient ancestors first emerged to enter the present world. The lightning bolts carry blessings back and forth between the mountaintops, bestowing good spirits on the weaver and her household.

Navajo rugs and blankets are textiles produced by Navajo people of the Four Corners area of the United States. Weaving plays a role in the creation myth of Navajo cosmology. According to Navajo mythology, a spirit being called Spider Woman instructed the women of the Navajo how to build the first loom from exotic materials including sky, earth, sunrays, rock crystal and sheet lightning. Then Spider Woman taught the Navajo how to weave on it. Because of this belief, traditionally there will be an intentional mistake somewhere within the pattern. It is said to prevent the weaver from becoming lost in Spider Woman's web or pattern.

My mentor suggested that I sit on the rug whenever I journey into the spirit world. I took his advice and journeyed at home while sitting on the rug. When I entered a trance, the rug became a mandala-like portal before me. I went through a doorway at the center of the undulating geometric pattern. I came out beneath a numinous web of light that surrounded the planet. The web emanated a blue glow against the black night-time sky above it. Spider Woman descended from the web on a strand of light and stood before me. She looked menacing and I feared being trapped in her web. She told me that I had nothing to fear. She conveyed that she was the weaver of the web of life. She said the Navajo rug would serve as a portal for me to journey into the spirit world.

I thanked Spider Woman and returned through the portal to my body. When I opened my eyes, I saw a large spider on the rug beside me. I thanked the spider for being there to support my shamanic journey. It was a good omen.

[smervin67]

luxury rugs uk

[nequench]

Hey, Check out what I got for Christmas! 5 lil bitty-buggers. Sheesh, for my first time too, this is going to be hard, but I’m gunna take care of all of them! They don’t have names as of yet, they’re fresh from the shop and unfortunately they don’t have clothes or a bed. o -ò I’ll figure that out soon, I have plenty of leftover cloth, thread and needles in the craft-room and some mittens with cottonballs could make a nice bed w/ pillows!

Ps. I blame @bittybones2, @three-bitty-moon with their amazing RP fanfic, Sunray Weaver, and probably @anyone else who posts about bitties for unknowingly dragging me into this wonderful place of smol skellies! ^w^

[yarnusthegreat]

Heck Sunray Weaver is a cheesy buddy road trip story except everyone starts as strangers and the vehicle has a mind of its own and the entire trip seems to get worse and worse and no one really knows where they’re going and the map isn’t wrong it’s just that the roads just change sometimes.

Which two OCs would star in a cheesy buddy, roadtrip movie?

[three-bitty-moon]

Chapter: 22 - Horny Folk Summary: Life was good on the Isle of Monsters, which leaves a small skeletal judge at a disadvantage when he wakes in the large and dangerous Void. With no knowledge of the Void or other universes at all, he has to rely on the kindness of strangers to survive. But the Void is full of strange kinds indeed. Perhaps they are in need of his help as much as he needs theirs.

The first being a huge version of a certain familiar blue parka wearing skeleton.

This is a RP log of Tooth and mine in his Void AU. It became such an epic roleplay that we felt it needed to be shared. As of February, only a third of the RP is posted.

I’m posting a link to Chapter 22 here since this is where Snork got his name. There’s no NSFW in this chapter, but in other chapters marked with asterisks the smut is clearly marked should you want to avoid those scenes. 

[yarnusthegreat]

Thanks to the lovely comments I’ve gained DETERMINATION!

I’ve been sitting on the next chapter for months since It needed a chunk rewritten. But it’s done and I need my code monkey to wake up and make it pretty. Should have it posted in a few hours.

[yarnusthegreat]

A good representation of Yarnus’ dealings with the Void.

I’m just a scotsboi in a weird place.

ÖMFG thērë’͕̳̟s͔̥͚̦͙̊̈̓̎̈̌ ̯̪̤̺ͪ̀͊šømęthïng ̇ͫ̐͗͛cråwliñg i̜͇ͩͧ̇n̼̺̝̤ͭ ̖͖̘̹̬͉͊̑m͖̹̱͈͇̻̹̈́͗̌̑̍yͫ̔͒ͭ hėäd̰̐ͩ̓̂̒̃̌!̾̈́̃ͩ͛̈́̂

Thīs iś fiñę. I cãn wõrk with thiš.

[yarnusthegreat]

Sunray Weaver and Isle of Monsters Discord server!

I’ve made a Discord server for all things Yarnus. It was created because I want to RP and explore ideas from Yarnus homelands before he was dragged into The Void where Sunray Weaver takes place.

https://discord.gg/jW3NYyN

Feel free to drop in and lurk, or ask questions, or even RP. I would love to host a RP weekend. I’m working on the logistics of it and would love some input. Tumblr RP intrigues me, but I just prefer chatroom type text to reblogging posts.

[yarnusthegreat]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Undertale (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Tzaclkratz/Yarnus/Grolom Characters: Original Undertale Character(s) Additional Tags: Somnophilia, Dubious Consent, Pseudo-Incest, Ambiguous Genitals, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale) Summary:

In which Tzacl is sound asleep, Yarnus is half-asleep, and Grolom is… handsy.

A little self-indulgent fan/slash of the story I co-write with Tooth.

This is marked as "Pseudo-Incest" for trigger sake (see end notes for reasons), if you’re looking for incest-as-a-kink you will be disappointed.