#To when Moss talked about the cool bed

[clangenrising]

Month 13 - Newleaf

“Mama?” Fogkit asked, “Hey, mama?” 

Beside her, Smokyrose was talking to Songdust, one paw wrapped around Slatekit’s side. They had been talking all morning and Fogkit had been mostly ignoring them as she cleaned her own pelt - she was old enough to do it mostly by herself now and she was very insistent that she did so - but now she wanted to ask a question and it didn’t seem like her mother had heard. 

“And you’re sure about this, Rose?” Songdust asked. 

“Mama?”

Smokyrose nodded, intently focused on the other adult. “Yes, I am. I don’t want to wait any longer, not when I can-”

“Mama? Mama!” 

Smokyrose let out a frustrated breath and looked down. “Yes, sweetheart, what is it?” Her smile was tight as she spoke, making Fogkit shuffle awkwardly, but she quickly recovered. This was her chance!

“Um, can you take us exploring today?” 

“No,” her mama frowned, “I’m sorry sweetheart. Why don’t you go ask Sparrowpaw if he can take you?” 

“Really?” Fogkit brightened after a brief disappointment. 

“Yes, as long as he doesn’t go too far.” 

Slatekit sat up and asked, “Can I go too?” 

“Of course, sweetie,” Smokyrose said, lifting her paw. “Go on.” 

“Thank you!” Fogkit cheered, scrambling away. Slatekit hurried to follow and the two of them quickly located Sparrowpaw in the warrior’s den. Barleypaw and Floodpaw were with him. Floodpaw immediately frowned upon seeing them but Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw’s faces lit up with smiles.

“Hey, there, girlies!” Barleypaw purred. “What are you up to today?” 

Fogkit bounced on her toes excitedly. “Mama said that Sparrowpaw could take us exploring!” 

“Really?” Sparrowpaw sat up in surprise.

Slatekit, who had mostly fallen mute in the presence of the apprentices, mumbled, “As long as we don’t go too far.” 

“That’s exciting!” Barleypaw said, glancing over at her brother. 

“Yeah,” cut in Floodpaw grouchily, “but he can’t. He’s gotta stay and finish his chores.” 

“Aw, what?” Fogkit cried. Slatekit whined softly. 

Sparrowpaw glanced over at his brother with a little frown and said, “When I’m done here, we can go exploring.” 

“What are you doing?” Fogkit asked, tilting her head. 

“We’re changing the beds,” Barleypaw said proudly. “We’ve got to take out the old or uncomfortable bits and replace them with fresh moss.” Floodpaw rolled his eyes. 

“Can we help?” whispered Slatekit. 

“Sure,” Sparrowpaw said, “Come here, I’ll show you how.”

“If they slow you down I’m not sticking around,” Floodpaw declared. “I’m finishing my portion and then I’m done, got it?” 

“That’s fine,” Barleypaw said with a little, disgruntled huff. 

Fogkit and Slatekit crowded close to Sparrowpaw who showed them step by step how to tidy the nests, pulling out the rotting or brittle bits, replacing them with fresh moss, and molding them into a proper shape. True to his word, Floodpaw finished early and left as soon as he was done. The others took a good deal longer. Fogkit tried her best to pay attention the whole time but she was very happy when they finally finished and Sparrowpaw checked with Russetfrond to make sure they were allowed to leave camp. 

“Alright!” Sparrowpaw purred, coming back to the kits. “As long as we stay in a specific area of the territory, we’re ready to go!” Fogkit cheered excitedly and Slatekit even squeaked in kind. 

Barleypaw and Sparrowpaw led them up out of camp and into the tall grass. Fogkit’s ears twitched from place to place, picking up all the unfamiliar sounds. Their mama had taken them out of camp once or twice but they never went very far before coming back. Out here, she could hear bugs moving around in the grass. There were all sorts of cool rocks to look at and even some big enough to climb on. 

Barleypaw answered all of her questions and Sparrowpaw even let her and Slatekit cling to his legs for a while, carrying them on his paws as he walked. She laughed and laughed and couldn’t remember a time better than this. 

“Alright,” Sparrowpaw panted eventually, “That’s enough for now.” 

“Aww!” Fogkit groaned. “A little more?” 

“Nope,” he said, falling over sideways. “You’re too heavy.” Fogkit squealed as she toppled with him, finding herself pinned under his legs and Slatekit’s body. She wriggled out and went to poke his face. 

“Get up!” she laughed. 

He winced. “Hey, please don’t.” 

“But I wanna keep going!” Fogkit grinned, giving him another swat to the face. 

“He said don’t!” Slatekit cried and yanked on her tail. Fogkit cried out in pain and whirled around to swat at her sister instead. Slatekit wailed and scrambled away and Fogkit went to chase her but Barleypaw’s teeth found her scruff and pulled her back. 

“Hey, easy there,” she said, setting Fogkit down between her paws. “It’s not nice to hit people.”

“She started it!” Fogkit pouted.

“Nuh, uh!” cried Slatekit, “You were being mean!” 

“Was not!” 

“It doesn’t matter how it started,” Sparrowpaw groaned, lifting his head and his voice to try and be louder than the shouting kits. “You’re responsible for what you do, not what other people did, okay? Both of you, say sorry.” Fogkit scowled, side eyeing Slatekit. 

Slatekit, for her part, caved immediately. “I’m sorry.” 

“Fogkit?” Barleypaw said with a gentle prod. 

“I’m sorry…” Fogkit grumbled. 

“Thank you,” Sparrowpaw sighed, dropping his head back on the ground. 

“Why don’t we play here for a while and then go back?” Barleypaw suggested. 

“Okay,” Fogkit said, “but what do we play?” 

“Um, we could play Hunting,” Slatekit suggested. 

“Okay!” Fogkit brightened. 

“Just stay where we can see you, okay?” Barleypaw said, sitting down. 

“We will!” said Fogkit. 

She and Slatekit moved a few mouse-lengths off into the grass and took turns being the prey and the hunter. It was a fun game but Fogkit realized quickly that she didn’t like being the prey. She tried to convince Slatekit to do it since she was better at it anyways but Slatekit refused. Sighing, Fogkit decided she would have to make it fun by herself. 

She crouched down, facing away from Slatekit and waited, pretending she didn’t notice. When Slatekit pounced, she gave a loud, frightening yowl and whirled around to bite at Slatekit’s forelegs. Slatekit shrieked and scrambled back, looking very upset. 

“You can’t bite back!” she wailed. 

“I’m a fox!” Fogkit explained, “Foxes bite!” 

“You’re not supposed to be a fox!” protested Slatekit. “Cats don’t hunt foxes, they hunt mice!”

“Well I’m sick of being a mouse,” Fogkit frowned. “I wanna do something else.”

“That’s no fair!” Slatekit whined, “You got to hunt more times than me!” 

“Did not!” 

“Girls!” Barleypaw shouted and Fogkit flinched at the sound. Were they in trouble? She looked back at the apprentices and paled at the fear on their faces. Barleypaw’s tail was twitching quickly and before Fogkit knew what was happening, she lunged, paws striking out at something just beyond them. Something hissed in response and Fogkit screamed. 

Just past them, hidden among the stalks of grass, a snake recoiled, fangs bared. The kits fled in unison, tumbling back over to Sparrowpaw who had jumped to his feet. The snake lunged after them but Barleypaw’s claws swiped out again, smacking its strike out of the air. 

“Barleypaw!” Sparrowpaw cried. “Be careful!” 

Barleypaw didn’t respond. From the safety of Sparrowpaw’s legs, Fogkit watched the apprentice stare the snake down. Her tail tip twitched madly, her ears flicking sideways now and then. She stood rigid, waiting.

Then the snake struck again and she lashed out, claws finding its face again. This happened two or three times before the snake stopped moving. Barleypaw cautiously swiped at it again then, provoking no reaction, turned around to look at the others. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah,” Fogkit and Slatekit squeaked.

“Are you okay?!” Sparrowpaw asked, bounding over to her. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she nodded. “It didn’t bite me.” Cautiously, Fogkit crept over to inspect the snake’s body, mouth open to the scent of its strange blood. 

“That was insane!” Sparrowpaw said, butting his head up against his sister’s. “You were so brave!” 

“I guess…” she laughed bashfully. “It was the right thing to do.” 

“Floodpaw’s gonna lose his mind!” Sparrowpaw laughed. “Come on, let’s take the snake back to camp.” 

“Can we help?” Fogkit asked, tail flying upward.

“Sure,” Barleypaw laughed, reaching over to pick up the snake in her teeth. As she walked, the long body trailed behind her and Sparrowpaw helped the kits grab onto its tail. Together, they carried the snake back to camp, although, by the time they reached the slope of the hill, she had given up on helping, complaining of a tired jaw. 

Pantherhaze was the first one to spot them as they dropped the snake on the prey pile. 

“Woah!” he gasped, “Barleypaw, did you catch that yourself?”

“Yeah,” she blushed. 

“We saw the whole thing!” Fogkit exclaimed, bouncing on her toes. 

“Really?” Pantherhaze’s eyes widened. “What happened?!” Sparrowpaw quickly explained the situation and Pantherhaze whistled appreciatively. 

“That’s quite the story!” he said. “Where’s Yarrowshade? He has to hear this.” 

“It’s not that big a deal, is it?” Barleypaw asked, fiddling with her cardinal feathers. 

“Killing a snake is really impressive,” Pantherhaze said, padding towards the warriors’ den, “especially if you’ve never been shown how. Hey, Yarrowshade! Get out here!” Fogkit frowned, starting to squirm. She wanted everyone to ask her about what happened, not Barleypaw! 

“Oh!” she cried, snapping up as an idea hit her. “I’m gonna go tell Mama!” 

“Good idea,” Sparrowpaw said. 

“I’ll, um, stay here,” Slatekit said softly, moving closer to his leg. 

“Shooting Stars, Barleygirl!” Yarrowshade’s voice filled the clearing as they finished telling him the story. “I’m so proud of you! Everybody! Barleypaw killed a snake all by herself!” 

Fogkit frowned. She had to find her mama before someone else told her the story. She wasn’t sunning on top of the dens so Fogkit hurried to the nursery, smiling wide, only to find it empty. She tried the elder’s den - nothing. She poked her head into Goldenstar’s den but that was empty too. Running out of places she could be, Fogkit tried the healers’ den. Sagetooth was in her nest, eyes closed, but otherwise there was nobody. Fogkit let out a huff of frustration.

One eye opening, Sagetooth asked, “Can I help you, little one?” 

“I’m trying to find my mama but she’s nowhere!” Fogkit complained. 

“I think I saw her and Songdust going out for a walk,” Sagetooth grunted, shifting her sleeping position. “She’ll be back soon.” 

“Fine…” Fogkit sighed, trudging back out into the clearing. She climbed the warriors’ den and laid down on the surface to sun herself, hoping her mama would come say hello when she returned. Sunning turned into a nap. When she woke up, the sun was starting to set. She ate dinner with Slatekit who said that she hadn’t seen their mama at all. 

Fogkit was starting to get worried. She found Sparrowpaw and asked him where her mama was. He frowned and told her to go back to the nursery while he found out. Begrudgingly, she did as she was told, sitting down in the entrance to the den to watch as he talked to Russetfrond who talked to Goldenstar. All of them whispered like there was a secret, casting little glances back at her. She didn’t understand what was going on. 

Eventually, one of them grabbed Ospreymask who came to the nursery. “Hey, little bit! Ready for bed?” 

“Where’s Mama?” Fogkit asked, craning her head to look at Goldenstar. She had a little group around her now; Russetfrond, Branchbark, Floodpaw, Pantherhaze. 

Ospreymask smiled strangely and said, “We don’t know yet but Goldenstar is gonna go out and find her okay? Right now it’s important that you and Slatekit get a good night's sleep, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Fogkit said distantly. She didn’t like this. She wanted to tell her mama about her snake story. Sighing, she let herself get shepherded into the den and tucked into a nest with Ospreymask and Slatekit but she wasn’t able to go to sleep.

[rainba]

I love me some weird darling 🙏

I'm currently making a enclosure for a small worm herd and looking for prices on African giant millipedes, as well as planning a terruiam full of moss, rolly pollies, plants, etc. If Kairos and Luka can't handle that they will find special new friends in their bed at night!!!!

(I may or may not have just sobbed over scaring a cattpillar while trying to pick it up and this request is my emotionalsupportrequest/j)

Anon, that’s so cool…. Like, really cool. Kairos and Luka would also fully support you!! (〃＾▽＾〃)

Fun fact: Kairos also loves bugs! Particularly spiders. When he was a kid, he didn’t have any friends– so instead, he always played with the little creatures crawling around on the playground. 

If Kairos learns that you also love insects, he’d be more than happy to listen to you talk about them!! He would also try to help you take care of them, too. Ღ

Oh, but… Make sure you don’t give too much love and attention to your bugs. Kairos might get jealous if you focus more on them than him. ^^;;;;;;;

(Bonus: if you let Kairos name one of the bugs, he’d make up a ship name between the two of you and would give the bug that name. LOL.)

With Luka– he would think it’s actually very endearing! Does he, personally, like insects? Not really… (o^ ^o)

Does he like the way that you love insects and nerd out over them? Absolutely!

He’ll fully support your hobbies and interests! So– if you need things for your little buddies– Luka will help you pay for everything. (๑>◡<๑) You might as well just save his credit card information on all of your online accounts. Just, um… Don’t ask him to hold any of your bugs.

He’s fine with looking at them! He’s unbothered at the idea of taking them outside or moving them around. But genuinely holding them in his bare hands will creep him out a bit... ^^;;;;;;;

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Scribbled this out a few nights ago. It’s not really about any specific event, though it references the Tazercraft Prison stuff and the Election Dinner so spoilers for those. It just... idk I know cc!Philza rarely does lore because by the time people get going he’s falling asleep, buuuuuut in character he surely has his reasons too. Even if getting dragged into it will happen sooner or later. Also. I saw the Antarctic Empire outfit from smp earth and was like. that’s a cool colour I’ll make him wear it. Then ran with it.

Fit, Philza, and the inevitable.

Philza was retired. Fit knew this, and he respected it - after everything, his friend deserved nothing less than to stay at home with his children, to grow potatoes and build basements and decorate nearly every surface with moss and glowberries. His swords had been swapped for axes, his armour hung up for more easily cleaned dungarees, and his wings clipped so badly that he might never regain use of them again.

That last point? It hurt Fit, it hurt him so bad. He remembers seeing Philza fly across worlds, dark as night and free as a bird. Nobody could have stopped him, then. Now... the codes can, Etoiles could, but this world was strange and none of the rules were quite right, and Philza had always been resistant to change.

But Philza was also a dear friend, and Fit could no longer afford for this to go wrong. He trusted nobody on this island, not one of them.

Well.

He trusted Philza, but perhaps it was that trust too which made him hesitate. When Pac and Mike were merely kidnapped for a day, he had been tempted, so tempted to tell him. But then he would have had to tell the rest, and...

Fit was no fool. He knew how it would end. Philza would be unwilling to involve himself, to scared of risking his children- one too eager to fight, the other an easier target than most.

And yet, Philza would help him anyway. Because they were friends, because they had always been friends, because Philza might have been unwilling but he very rarely said no to a genuine plea for help.

He would have agreed, and he would have destroyed himself to do it.

So here they were, stood at the edge of the wall. Ramon was antsy, ready to go, but Fit had insisted on wishing Philza and his eggs a proper goodnight.

"Night mate," his old friend said, as he opened the hatch to his basement.

Fit hesitated, and Philza escaped. But...

"Wait here Ramon," Fit opened it for himself, and followed Philza down.

"Fit?" The confusion was so genuine. "Did you need something else?"

"Philza," he replied. "Put the kids to bed, but then I need to speak to you."

Philza frowned, but nodded - told Fit just to wait outside.

After a short while, Philza returned to the top. His face was grim, and they both knew how this conversation would end.

"So Philza," Fit said. "Do you remember where I come from?"

"I do," Philza replied, his frown falling further.

"I've been taking steps to deal with the Federation at the request of-" Fit spoke quickly, cut off by Ramon headbutting him hard enough to bruise.

"I don't want to know," Philza glanced to the hatch behind him as he spoke, preventing Fit from continuing. "My children, Fit, you know-"

"I do know," Fit held out a hand. "I’m sorry old friend; I wouldn't be asking if I had any other option left."

Philza closed his eyes, looking down and seeming every bit his age. After a long moment he sighed, looking up to the sky, and then the Federation eyesore on his doorstep.

"Just let me check on the children, alright mate? I’ll be right back."

He did not pause before pulling open the hatch.. For a moment he hesitated, looking back, before heading back down.

Fit could hear Philza talk, telling Chayanne and Tallulah to find Forever or Bad if anything happened, anything at all. The noise faded as he sang them to sleep, and then began to busy himself with something else.

Fit waited, and he could only hope that it paid off as Philza disappeared from the contacts list.

He waited, and waited, and then, seven minutes later, Philza returned.

He had changed in those minutes. Gone was the green and the black, but for the gemstone woven into his hair. The hat remained, its stripes now in a cold, icy blue. A matching tunic, a white and red cape hung with gold chains around his neck. It covered the great, black wings, but they - clipped as they were - sat more freely upon his back, stretching and folding themselves with ease.

And then a black mask, made of his own black feathers and woven into the long, golden hair. It formed a crow's face and beak, covering every identifying part of his face.

And around his neck hung the the Favour of Lady Death herself.

In his full regalia, not as Philza of the Hardcore worlds, nor as Death's beloved Angel, but as the ruler of an Empire which once claimed all the world.

Fit nodded to him.

Philza nodded back.

"Tell me, FitMC of 2b2t," Philza's voice dropped low, everything about him making clear the threat he posed to all’. "What do you need me to do?"

[innytoes]

make more dark fantasy AU. please. pretty please. sugar please. there are children crying. Its me im children crying

I mean same, anon.

-Caleb just being completely obsessed with the jazz beat Alex showed him. He's pretty sure that's why it took so 'long' for the fairy to turn on him, he loved jazz.

-Alex was supposed to learn the drums to play in a nice, wholesome, Christian marching band and do the military drum beats for the army parades and scouts stuff but he learned the Fun Cool Music on the sly.

-The first several years Alex was in the fairy realm, he and Willie never exchanged a word. Like, when he was still having a good time, he'd spot Willie from across the room and think he was pretty, but he was always whisked away by a fairy who wanted to dance with him or Caleb who wanted him to play drums.

-Once he realises he made a big mistake, and it's too late to run, and his feet keep moving without his permission, his face in a smile that isn't his own, that's when he and Willie finally make contact. Every time he's nearing his breaking point and thinking he's going to go insane, Willie is there, whisking him out of someone else's arms, feeding him honey cakes, dancing with him to a song he hums in Alex' ear, slow and sweet and not at all what the music around them is, and he's practically holding Alex' body up, letting him rest.

-It's not until Caleb and the faeries disappear on some kind of hunt, who knows how long after, and he finally has control over his own limbs again, that Willie speaks. And then it's only a "come with me" as he leads Alex away, gently holding on to his fingers. And what is Alex going to do, not follow?

-They end up in some kind of room with a bed made out of moss. One of the musicians he saw was also there, already asleep, and oh god, there's more humans here? Willie just urged him into the bed and gently tucks him in and curls around him, and he's not sure how long they sleep but when he's woken up it's frantic and the boy with the lute - Luke, he introduces himself hastily - is dragging him up and away because its best not to keep Caleb waiting and he shouted he wanted music.

-Over the months, years, decades, he can't tell, he slowly learns more about who Luke and Willie are. Other humans come and go, and Alex sees just what can happen to the ones who do not stay on the fae's good side.

-Let's just say Caleb does Not like disco.

-Willie gets away with a lot more than the other humans can. And some of the lower ranking fairies seem to be almost afraid of him. Alex can never figure out quite how Caleb sees him though. Sometimes he acts like Willie is his child - usually when he wants affection or admiration - sometimes like Willie is a pet, and sometimes, the worst times, he takes his anger out on Willie in a way that is sometimes subtle, sometimes overt, and always terrifying.

-Once they live with the Molinas, Reggie is just dying to introduce the guys to things like Pizza and Poptarts and poprocks.

-The boys have very fucked up sleep schedules. Sometimes they don't sleep for days. Sometimes, worryingly, they do. Sometimes they sleep for 12 hours, raid the fridge, and go nap for another four.

-Willie biting into a pear and realising pears and pixie pears taste VERY different: excuse me but what the fuck is this?

He makes Reggie taste it and Reggie is like: yeah sorry buddy that's just what pears taste like here.

-On the other hand, pineapple is a new and exciting thing. For Luke, too, honestly.

-Carlos introduces him to Pixie Stix which have nothing to do with actual pixies but are Really Good and if you have 15 of them you have So Much Energy!!!!

-Willie being a Disney Princess. He can talk to birds. He makes friends with neighbourhood cats. Ray has a long conversation about how animal friends are outdoor friends after he came downstairs to find Willie on the sofa petting a raccoon in his lap and sharing a carrot with it.

-Look, Ray isn't saying now that he knows his kids have some kind of fairy changeling lineage that he's noticing things but... sometimes they are weirdly lucky, just like Rose was.

-And he's never had a green thumb... Rose's plant wall in the studio was close to death, until Carlos started going into the studio again. And they didn't truly perk up until Julie started playing music there again.

(Or maybe that's because Ray stopped overwatering the plants after Willie talked to him.)

-Reggie knows that he's not the only one with nightmares and trauma, okay, he knows that, but none of the other boys were hunted for sport and none of them have his weird aversion to horn sounds and bows and arrows. It makes things really awkward when Julie tries to show him nerdy movies he missed, like Lord of the Rings or the Hunger Games.

-Ray reads a lot of books and guides and studies on trauma informed parenting and how to help the boys, because he's pretty sure telling a therapist 'I was kidnapped to the fairy realm' is not going to give the kids the help they need.

-When Luke and Julie start dating, he's happy for them, though he does do the strict dad routine. Even though Luke is very old fashioned in a way that is charming and a little hilarious at times, given that his perception has been warped by hundreds of years of fae revelries. (Orgies? Eh, whatever. Getting to hold Julie's hand? Life changing, huge step.)

-The other guys seem happy for him. But the first time Luke falls asleep in Julie's room - innocently song writing, but he hadn't slept in two days and Julie's voice was so pretty and her bed was so soft - and she lets him stay, he wakes up to find the other boys demonstratively piled up on the floor around Julie's bed.

-Because Willie can't sleep without Luke there, so he bodily carried an already sleeping Alex to Julie's room. He was just about to go back for Reggie, but Reggie doesn't like sleeping alone either so he followed, dragging one of their blankets with him. And yeah, Julie has some explaining to do to Ray when he finds them like that the next morning. (The door was open! Luke was on top of the covers and she wasn't! They weren't even facing each other, dad!)

-Willie not quite knowing what to feel because on the one hand, relationships were very fluid among the fae and it's not like he has issues sharing. He never minded sharing Luke with Alex or Reggie. But then they were all together, and now, Luke and Julie keep disappearing together.

-And he's had Luke in his life the longest, and he doesn't know what to do with this new feeling inside him that makes him want to grab Luke and keep him away from everyone except his boys. And then he has a realisation that he's just like Caleb and he maybe hides out in the loft of the studio until Alex and Reggie find him and coax him down.

-Alex soothes him that he's nothing like Caleb, that being a little jealous when one of your friends pulls back because he's head over heels for someone is normal. That's the word for his feelings. Jealous.

-Reggie is very silent, and Willie flops on him and stares at him until Reggie starts petting his hair. And he realises that maybe Reggie is also jealous of Luke and Julie. And then he thinks back at how many times he and Alex have gone off on their own and thinks maybe Reggie is jealous of him and Alex as well. There's no more revelries where they are all together anymore. He should fix that. He doesn't want Reggie to feel what he's feeling.

-He makes extra sure to cuddle Reggie during that night's 'watching the tellyvision'. It also distracts him from wanting to hiss at Julie when she snuggles up to Luke and pull him away.

-Asking Ray about hosting revelries goes badly. He's pretty sure the modern human word for it is 'buzz kill'.

-As a compromise, Ray hosts a 'pizza party' which Willie is pretty sure is not comparable. He wants to pout, but then Ray mentions you can put pineapple on pizza and he's distracted.

-He talks to Alex about it all, because Alex is better at feelings and thinking. Reggie says he's better at Overthinking but Willie is pretty sure he's just jealous Alex can think of all the bad outcomes of their plans before they do them. (It doesn't stop them, but sometimes Alex does get to say 'I told you so', which is funny.)

-Alex tries to explain that things are different in the human world, that romantic and sexual relationships are between two people, usually. Alex is very cagey about answering Willie's question about whether or not he misses the other two boys, but finally Willie drags it out of him that yes, he does. But he also wants to be normal, and being with four people isn't normal, and he loves Willie and what they have.

-In response Willie pushes him through a wall, just to remind him they're Not Normal, and says they should kiss Reggie and Luke at the pizza party.

-Alex splutters and says they should ask first. He is also very insistent that there will be Nothing More Than Kissing at the pizza party, and Willie pouts. Ray already had that talk with him, thanks. Humans were so weird, they invented the most amazing ways to have fun (skateboards! Tellyvisions! Dubstep!) but were so boring in other areas.

-The pizza party was a success. He and Luke were Very Excited about the Pineapple Pizza. Reggie looked in heaven. Even Alex seemed to forget he was nervous about tonight as he stuffed an entire slice of pizza into his face. Alex was so talented.

-So around the last slice he asks Reggie if he can kiss him, and Reggie splutters and is confused, and Willie says he misses him, and Ray won't host any revelries and he wants to kiss him and Alex said he had to ask first.

-And Reggie looks at Luke and Julie and he looks conflicted and for a moment Willie is scared that Reggie doesn't actually miss them at all, he just wants Luke and Julie, and he's ready to teleport away and hide when Reggie says yes.

-The kiss is sweet and tastes vaguely of pizza. They have a very long talk and Reggie admits he'd missed them too but didn't want to intrude. He'd come to them last, he understood if Willie chose Alex, and Luke and Julie were clearly meant to be.

-Willie cuts him off and pulls him close and is like: you're ours and we're yours.

-Luke is looking very, very conflicted, and Julie looks like she's trying to understand, like when Willie tried to teach her a fae dance. He knows he should not anger their hosts, that's like the first thing he learned, but he can't help it and pouts over Reggie's shoulder: "Julie, you need to share."

-And Julie paused, and then nods. "Okay."

-And Luke is shocked, and Reggie and Alex seem shocked, but Willie is just pleased, and he leans over so he can kiss Luke as well, and finally the tight, sour feeling in his chest goes away and all is well.

-And if a few weeks later, Julie comes into the studio holding Reggie's hand and declaring Willie has to share, Willie is fine with that.

[conivolos]

Hello hello fellow writer buddy :>

May I request moss etho and arctic bdubs :> bdubs and etho are so silly to me

hiya!! some ethubs for you <3 (its romantic, hope that's cool :))

---

“Bdubs, you’re still asleep,” Etho whispers after dropping himself in Bdubs’ burrow-house-thing.

The furry shape of Bdubs across the room makes no sound, the only thing that makes Etho sure he's even alive is the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Etho shakes his head and as he makes his way over, his eyes once again find themselves looking over the space Bdubs has made for himself. It's all very nice and all that, Etho can agree, although it's incredibly lavish for something just as simple a task as ‘sleeping’.

“I know you don't hibernate, c’mon,” he grumbles when he shuffles over, half-heartedly attempting to pry Bdubs’ covers back.

Bdubs barely even stirs.

“Bdubs, c’mon! you’re like this every morning,” he laments, slumping down to Bdubs’ level, resting his chin on the frame of his bed.

Etho huffs dramatically, then decides to hell with it, and quickly slips into the bed behind Bdubs, sliding his arms around him.

Bdubs groans and shifts in Etho’s grip. He cracks open an eye to glare at him, and Etho gives a beaming smile in return; not that he can even see, of course.

“What’re you doin’ in my bed?” Bdubs slurs.

“I don't know. what’re you doing still asleep?”

Bdubs whacks him with his tail. Right in the face.

“BdoubleO!,” he accuses once his mouth halfway free of fur, then, he pauses. “Are you moulting?”

“No clue what you’re talking about,” Bdubs huffs. His ear twitches, dislodging another few bits of white fur into the air.

Etho grins at him and tilts his head, small flowers blooming across his shoulders. “Mhm.”

Bdubs glares sleepily back at him. “Lemme go back to sleep,” he eventually grumbles. He doesn't wait for Etho to respond, just turns over and falls back asleep.

Etho laughs as quietly as he can and buries his face into the back of Bdubs’ neck and closes his eyes. After all, it's a ‘stay inside’ kind of day.

[yandere-fics]

Fuck it, Siren darling with Skye.

The cool night air was pleasant while looking out across the vast sea, it was calming and helped to wash away the troubles of the day. It was supposed to be just 30 minutes of peace, 30 minutes of relaxation. It was supposed to be 30 minutes until she heard the singing. There had been rumours of something or someone singing during moonlit nights like tonight, but Skye had originally waved it off as only a rumour. She looked around for the source and tried to follow it before her eyes landed on You. You were sitting on an outcropping of rock just singing to your heart's content a beautiful song.

You weren't expecting an audience, let alone for that audience to call out to you. You dived and only resurfaced once you could look at the human girl before you from a distance. You were the first to break the silence, asking who she was. Skye. Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. The two of you slowly conversed, enjoying each other's company. When you eventually mentioned how she should probably get some sleep, you were almost certain she didn't want to. You promised her that you'd be here the next night if she got some sleep.

After than night, you decided to grab some gifts for the human, just in case she ever returned. Humans liked pearls right? You at least knew they ate fish sometimes, enjoyed song and could never truly live in the waters for long, at least not without help. That was an idea for later. You knew about an old wreck so maybe you could gather some extra things from there, hopefully you'd be able to make it back by nightfall.

As the last shred of light was extinguished, you saw Skye back where you originally met her and she was illuminated by candlelight. You swam up to her with a smile, handing over some of the pearls and a bag of coins you had found alongside an unopened bottle. She seemed quite happy to receive your gifts and you both had much more time to converse. You felt something click in your brain as you sent her off to bed again, you'd make her yours. Your pearl in the deep.

You looked carefully, you wanted to prepare for it all. You needed to show her the beauty of life under the water. To entrance and entice her before taking her back to your lair to love her. Maybe you could help her pet a shark, swim with a school of fish, show her the coral forest and explore that ship together. Yes, that made sense and at the end of it all you'd take her back to your lair to have your way with her.

You seemed to be able to enact your plan earlier than expected since it seemed Skye wanted to swim with you that night. Time to move everything forward, you informed her to give you a tap when she felt like she might run out of air before eventually pulling her under the surface. Skye was thrilled by the sights before her, things she could never have expected to see for herself now in front of her as you both swam through a school.

On your way to the coral forest you felt the tap notifying you of Skye's low air supply. You turned her around and pulled her in for a kiss, filling her lungs back up with air. Skye certainly didn't expect it, but calmed quickly once she realized you were providing air for her. Skye was enamored with the forest of coral and all the different colours, so much went into its beauty and she got to see it for herself, she was over the moon.

Next was being able to pet the sharks, and you were honestly at a point where you just wanted to take her to your lair but the sharks came first. Once you had finished up you took her deep and into your cave, once in your lair you set her on a layer of luminescent moss, listening to her catch her breath and talk about how wonderful the sea is. Now you could make love to her, and now she could never leave, especially since the only way out was the way you came in and she couldn't breathe without you. It was time to have your way with her.

Based on last night's dream. Enjoy.

She deserves to get snatched honestly.

[x-ceirios-x]

City of Lost Souls, Chapter 8: Fire Tests Gold

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

Isabelle emerged in an alien landscape. A deep green plain swept out before her under a lowering gray-black sky. She pulled up the hood of her gear and peered out, fascinated. She had never seen such a great, overarching expanse of sky, or such a vast plain—it was shimmering, jewel-toned, the shade of moss. As Isabelle took a step forward, she realized it was moss, growing on and around the back rocks scattered across the cool colored earth. 

“It’s a volcanic plain,” Jocelyn said. She was standing beside Isabelle, and the wind was pulling red-gold strands out of her tightly-pinned bun. She looked so much like Clary, it was eerie. “These were lava beds once. The whole area is probably volcanic to some degree. Working with adamas, the Sisters need incredible heat for their forges.”

“You’d think it would be a little warmer, then,” Isabelle muttered. 

Andy appeared on her opposite side. When she glanced her way, she noticed the wide grin spread across her face. Her cheeks and nose were red from the cool wind, though she shined like she couldn’t be happier. “I think it’s beautiful,” she said, taking in the scenery. “There was a time I wanted to be an Iron Sister, you know.”

Isabelle looked at her with wide eyes. “Really? How come you haven’t?”

She smirked. “Me? A vow of celibacy? You’re joking.” With that, she strode off, down the hill, toward, what she assumed was, the Citadel. 

“Sometimes you two are both so much like your parents, it astounds me,” Jocelyn said. “Her with Stephen, you with your mother.”

“I take that as a compliment.” Isabelle narrowed her eyes. No one insulted her family. 

“It wasn’t meant as an insult.”

Isabelle kept her eyes on the horizon as she walked, where the dark sky met the jewel-green ground. “How well did you know my parents?”

Jocelyn gave her a quick sideways look. “Well enough, when we were all in Idris together. I hadn’t seen them for years until recently.”

“Did you know them when they got married?”

The path Andy began to take had begun to slant uphill, and as they followed, Jocelyn’s words became slightly breathless. “Yes.”

“Were they…in love?”

Jocelyn stopped short and turned to look at Isabelle. “Isabelle, what is this about?”

“Love?” Isabelle suggested after a moment’s pause. She thought of Tony, whose parents were disgustingly in love still, even into their older age. Older by Shadowhunter standards, she guessed. His father’s hair was graying and his mother’s smile joined by extra lines on her cheeks. Even then, she thought of Aric, who had never stopped loving his late wife. She wondered if her parents were ever that in love. 

“I don’t know why you think I’d be an expert on that.”

“Well, you managed to keep Luke around for his whole life, basically, before you agreed to marry him. That’s impressive. I wish I had that kind of power over a guy.”

“You do,” Andy said, having turned back to join the two of them. “I’ve seen it. It’s something special.”

She scoffed. “Like you can talk.”

Andy smiled at her; it was a soft sort of smile that reminded Isabelle of an older sister about to impart wonderful wisdom on her younger siblings. “I flirt and I entertain, dear, but I’ve never had a man fall in love with me the way I’ve seen one love you.”

“One?” she asked incredulously. “What are you talking about?”

She just smiled at her. Jocelyn pushed her hands up through her hair and Isabelle felt a little jolt. For all that Jocelyn looked like her daughter, her thin long hands, flexible and delicate, were Sebastian’s. Isabelle remembered slicing one of those hands off, in a valley in Idris, her whip cutting through skin and bone. She remembered, that same night, watching Rowan struggle to break from his grasp around their neck as they tried to breathe, and how she felt when she realized they might not all make it out of their duel with Sebastian alive. 

“Neither of your parents are perfect because no one is,” she said, turning to Andy; her jaw set at the mention of her parents. “Yours were manipulated and wounded by a man who everyone mistakenly put too much faith in. And Isabelle—” she turned her way, now— “yours have just lost a child. So if this is about your father staying in Idris—”

“My father cheated on my mother,” Isabelle blurted out, and nearly covered her own mouth with her hand. She had kept this secret, kept it for years, and to say it out loud to Jocelyn and Andy seemed like a betrayal, despite everything. She wondered if Andy would tell Alec, or Jace, if they ever found him. 

Jocelyn’s face changed. It held sympathy now. “I know.”

Andy covered her mouth with her hand silently. Isabelle took a sharp breath. “Does everyone know?”

Jocelyn shook her head. “No. A few people. I was…in a privileged position to know. I can’t say more than that.”

“Who was it?” Isabelle demanded. “Who did he cheat on her with?”

“It was no one you know, Isabelle—”

“You don’t know who I know!” Isabelle’s voice rose. Her mind whirled with the names of every Shadowhunter she knew. “And stop saying my name that way, like I’m a little kid.”

“It’s not my place to tell you,” Jocelyn said flatly, and began to walk again. 

She surged forward, but Andy caught her arm. “Isabelle,” she said, catching her attention before she could scramble off after Jocelyn. “Hey—I don’t know if it’s a good idea—”

Isabelle snapped. “Don’t act like you’re some savior for me now because you decided to be nice to me!”

Her expression hardened. “Don’t act like you’re the only person whose father made some terrible choices about his relationships,” she said, her tone darkening. She took a deep breath to calm herself and spoke again. “I understand your anger. It's not going to get you anywhere.”

“You’re telling me,” she grumbled. 

“Isabelle,” Andy said with a sigh, her eyes boreing into her. “I wanted to hate Jace in the beginning because he was the product of how badly my father had hurt my mother. I realized it wasn’t fair on him, but it was almost too late when I did. I could have gone my entire life without knowing my brother.”

She asked impatiently, “What is your point, Andy?”

Andy placed her hand on her shoulder. “Don’t make my stupid mistakes,” she said. “Answers won’t get you anywhere. Mine just made me more angry.”

Before Isabelle could respond, she turned on her heel and trekked up the hill, following Jocelyn. She didn’t understand her situation—she’d only been at the Institute a few months, and before then, she had no idea any of them existed. Their paths would never have crossed if Clary had never snuck off to Idris. Their situations were entirely different—but were they? She looked ahead and watched as Andy and Jocelyn chatted amongst themselves. In the time she’d known her, Isabelle had never understood why Clary insisted that Andy really was a good person; she was ‘just a little rough around the edges’. She hadn’t believed it, but maybe this was what she meant. It was unwarranted advice, sure, but something to consider nonetheless. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and followed along, a few feet behind them. 

The path took a steeper turn upward, a wall of green rising to meet the thunderous sky. They reached the top of the ridge, and somehow, in front of them, a fortress had sprung like a fast-moving flower out of the ground. It was carved out of white-silver adamas, reflecting the cloud-streaked sky. Towers topped with Electrum reached towards the sky, and the fortress was surrounded by a single all, also of adamas, in which was set a single gate, formed of two great blades plunged into the ground at angles, so that they resembled a monstrous pair of scissors. 

“The Adamant Citadel,” Jocelyn said. 

“Thanks,” Isabelle said. “I figured that out.”

Jocelyn made a noise that Isabelle was familiar with form her own parents. Isabelle was pretty sure it was parent-speak for “Teenagers”. Andy seemed not to hear them; instead, her eyes were fixated on the Citadel ahead of them. A soft smile spread across her face as Jocelyn set off down the hill. 

“Maybe this is what Clary sees all the time when she wants to paint,” she said. “It’s beautiful.”

Isabelle followed her eyes, looking down at the gate. “In a sort of way, I guess,” she said. “You really love this stuff, don’t you?”

Andy turned to her, and if it weren’t for her standing so close, she wouldn’t have noticed the tear trying to escape from her eye. “I’ve been tinkering with weapons since as early as I can remember,” she said with a sad sort of smile on her face. “It was something I used to do with…someone I loved, and it helped me a lot after she died. It's always something I’ve been passionate about.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you snuck off to explore for a little while,” Isabelle said. “I’ll lie to Jocelyn for you.” 

Andy snickered and wiped the corner of her eye. “No, no—don’t do that,” she said, though she looked like she would have considered it for a moment. “But I appreciate it.”

They two continued down the hill, watching the Citadel ahead of them, when Isabelle suddenly ran into Jocelyn’s arm stuck out in front of her. They were standing on an outcropping of rock. In front of her, the earth dropped away into a vast chasm, at the bottom of which boiled a river of red-gold lava, encircling the fortress. Across the chasm, much too far to jump—even for a Shadowhunter—was the only visible entrance to the fortress, a closed drawbridge. 

“Some things,” said Jocelyn, “are not as simple as they first appear.”

Andy shot her a look behind Jocelyn’s back that would have made her laugh if Jocelyn wasn’t still looking at her. Tired of their antics, Jocelyn sighed. “I hope someone taught you both the proper method of approaching the Adamant Citadel,” she said. “After all, it is open to all female Shadowhunters in good standing with the Clave.”

“I did my own reading,” Andy said with a sigh. Isabelle wondered why she seemed to know so much about the Iron Sisters, but that her mother hadn’t taught her much. She didn’t know much about Amatis Herondale, though, and couldn’t pin all the blame on her. Isabelle wracked her brain for what Hodge had taught her and Rowan at a young age. Only those with Nephilim blood…

Andy took a step forward and pulled a dagger off of her belt. She, carefully. Though without wincing, cut across the palm of her hand. “Ignis aurum probat,” she said, raising her hand over the chasm. Blood ran from the cut, a ruby stream that splattered into the chasm below. There was a flash of blue light and a creaking noise. The drawbridge was slowly lowering. She wiped the blade on her gear and slid it back into place. 

“Do you know what that means?” asked Jocelyn, her eyes on the lowering bridge. 

“The motto?” Andy asked. Any cheerfulness that had been in her voice a moment ago had left it. She looked incredibly serious, like some switch had flipped in her that prevented her from being the bitchy, arrogant sorority girl she usually acted like, or the sweet, advice-giving older sister type she’d been a minute ago. Her jaw set as the drawbridge lowered before them. “Fire tests gold.”

“Right,” said Jocelyn, unmoved by such a dynamic change in Andy. “They don’t just mean forges and metalwork. They mean that adversity tests one’s strength of character. In difficult times, in dark times, some people shine.”

“Maybe that’s why my mother always used to say I shined brighter than the sun,” Andy said flatly before stalking off, her heeled boots soundless on the drawbridge. 

“I agree,” Isabelle muttered as she watched her. “I’m sick of dark and difficult times. Maybe I don’t want to shine.”

“If you’re anything like your mother,” said Jocelyn with a sigh, though she didn’t look at Isabelle. She wasn’t sure which of the two of them she was talking to. “You won’t be able to help it.”

[bluiex]

The Gardens

Been talking to @justfor2am about their Caged AU, and came up with this. 

Time to make you all question if Scar is a villain (he totally is) 

TW: Manipulation, Magic, Villian Fae Scar

Summary: The gardens are pretty, even if sinister. Kind of like their owner. Yet... it's the only place Mumbo enjoys.

-

The grass always smells nice here, the sun is always warm and high in the sky. Mumbo doesn't know if it ever sets. It never hurts his eyes if he stares at it, nor does it burn his skin. The wind is always gentle, cooling him when he feels too warm. It's almost as if everything is alive here. 

Mumbo found this place while exploring for ways out. The walls up have a sheer cliff going down into the abyss. Without magic, it's impossible to make that jump. But.. the place was beautiful. The walls were ivory in color with ivy growing up them, their dark and light green leaves turned up to the sunlight. 

Trees that reached far into the sky, and branches that swayed in the soft wind. Moss grows at the base of the tree and is very soft to the touch. The grass is also soft under his hands and is a vibrant green color. The walks ways are cobble stepping stones, leading back to the main path to the manor that is mostly mulita color gravel. The edges of moss also grow at the cobble circle stones. 

Mumbo finds the gardens seem endless, hedges made into pretty statues of strange creatures. Even a maze that he doesn't dare go into as he has no sense of direction. But, the flowers are the thing that draws in his eye the most. They are the strangest things he's ever seen.

Blues that shouldn't exist in nature, eye popping yellows and oranges that draw in your eye. They grow in small beds here and there, with bushes that contain fae berries. They look delicious, but Mumbo refrains from eating them, he's no fool.  The pond is pretty also, having clear blue water and lilies on the surface. Surrounded by the flowers, and a willow tree that hangs over the edge. 

In some areas the tree roots are so large Mumbo can walk under them! This place always seems to be changing though he finds so long as he follows the cobble paths he will always make it back to the manor. That is both useful and scary to think about, that this place is just magic. 

No matter how far he walks, he just has to step onto the paths and he's always back at the manor. 

Mumbo sits back and looks at the flowers again, they smell so very sweet. It makes his head spin when he gets too close, making him feel warm yet cool at the same time. He knew something was up, as he both knows he should leave, but doesn't at the same time. 

After what felt like only a few minuets a sound blinks him back into awareness. He turns and looks around, where was that coming from? it was a creaking of wood, and the sound of a voice tutting. 

"No no, that won't do at all. Bah, trees, always a pain to work with." 

A frown on his face, that... sounded like Scar. Truth be told Mumbo hadn't see the fae in a while. He moved to the sound, curiosity and a cat. He walked down the path to an area that was... well it was a clearing of sorts. Nothing much other than dirt in the middle of it.  And there stood Scar, he had on pants and a simple shirt. He also didn't have any shoes on, feet half buried into the moss and dirt. He was tsking as his hand waved and a large root moved with it, up and making what seemed to be an archway.  Mumbo watched in awe and shock as to this fae's whims the tree and roots and bark moved. Creating a archway like thing with many flowers weaving through the branches. Scar didn't seem to even be breaking a sweat with this magic. 

Mumbo looked around the clearing, to find mushrooms grew in a circle around the dirt clearing. Where Scar stood was the only place with moss. Inhuman eyes looked at the archway, eyes too large and too green to be human. Teeth too sharp to be normal, and ears pointed up.

"Hmmm that'll have to do for now." Scar waved his hand, "Now to get rid of this ugly dirt- Oh!" he turned fully to see Mumbo standing there watching him. Slowly a smile grew, wide on the face, and sharp teeth. 

Scar walked over to him, ease in his steps, with each one more moss grew under his feet. "I knew you were in the gardens, but I didn't think you'd notice I was here... sharper than you look Mumbo." he said with a smile on his face ever present. A shiver down his spine at how casually the fae said his name. A reminder that he was owned by Scar now. "Ah... I heard you talking to yourself." he said to the fae, honesty was the best thing to do. The fae hated liars.

A chuckle and head tilt, "I was just making a new area for when humans wonder into my fae circles. I change it ever so often." a wave of his hand and suddenly grass and more moss grew in the area. Covering over the rich black and brown soil.  Hands held out, "Come." Scar said, but Mumbo knew it wasn't a offer he could decline. Hesitantly he took Scar's clawed hands as he was pulled into the circle. 

The smile grew as Scar lead him over to the tree he was working on. "I do love terraforming. The gardens is where I spend majority of my days. Sure making and adding rooms to the manor is wonderful, but, the outside if beautiful." he said in a joyous tone, "I could tell you liked the flowers I made."

Shifting a bit at the intense stare Mumbo nodded, for the most part, despite how odd Scar was, he still felt calm. There wasn't immediate danger around the area, they were talking for now. "I've never seen colors so pretty before." he admits to Scar.

"Beautiful, are they?" Scar held out his hand as he created a soft red and white flower. The steam weaving around his fingers, "I do love colorful things, eye catching, bright." a smile at Mumbo that was shadowed. Framed by brown locks of smooth hair, and bright green eyes.  It was hard to look away from, the flower caught the wind, with a bit of pollen with it. The scent was sweet, it made Mumbo feel nice. "They are pretty." he admits in a soft tone.

He's always loved flowers, gardening was something he enjoyed. Something he wanted to do when he made himself a home one day. But... he wondered if he'd ever get that day now. 

A hand on his chin, pushing up to look back at Scar's eyes. "I could teach you." he offered in a soft tone. Mumbo stared at that confused, as Scar moved around to behind him, fingers ever present on his cheek and chin, ghosting over his neck and to his shoulder.

"Flowers are delicate you know, so easy to break, so easy to bend." The other hand trailed up his arm and held up his hand, ghosting the tips of the claws on his knuckles. "What is your favorite color Mumbo?" the voice was rich in his left ears, the chin slotted over his shoulder. Warm breath on the shell of it. 

Mumbo was very aware of how Scar has an arm snaked around his stomach, how the hand gripped his waist. the chest was pressed to his back, warmth like skin despite the shirt. Firm as well, holding him in place as his dark brownish black eyes looked at his hands. How Scar's hand barely held it up to the light.

"Blue." he says softly, voice almost a whisper. He loved the color blue, how rare it was in nature, how the sky gleamed it against fluffy white clouds. How the water reflected the skies surface. 

Scar hummed, "Blue..." he said back, as from Mumbo's fingers green sparks flowed. It jolted down his arm, as Scar's magic tangled with his own. Weaving between the mage's magic, and carefully guiding it along. 

From his fingers a steam weaved around, and put over his index finger. Creating a large flower, that was glowing blue, having light yellow trims. It was bigger than his hand, and had soft, delicate petals.  "Ofcourse you'd make something poisonous." Scar chuckled into his ear as Mumbo stared at the flower. How the steam hugged his wrist and hand, and twined it together with Scar's own. 

"it's..." Mumbo said as the flower glowed softly, "beautiful." he admits, he didn't think he could create things, having always used magic for destructive purposes. 

Another laugh in his ear, deep, melodious, like an organ playing. "Care to help me make more dear?" he asked him in a gentle and soothing tone. Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but.. Mumbo wanted to see what else he could do. 

. . .

Scar was humming as he weaved together the flowers, "You've been so good today Mumbo... after so long of biting back, it's nice to see such a sweet side of you." he laughs lightly to the mage.

Looking away, Mumbo opts to say nothing to that. His head felt fuzzy with the buzz of magic. Scar's own magic still tingled in his right hand. The still ghost touches were there. The air was sweet, and not once had the sun set. 

Now... now they lay here, Scar having pulled him down to the ground, the feel the soft moss under them. Scar purred as he was shirtless now, just basking in it, as Mumbo was avoiding looking at his chest. A fae should not have tits and abs! He should not look this pretty. 

Leaned now against a tree as he finished the crown of pretty flowers. And reached over placing it on Mumbo's head. A pleased smile on his face, as fingers trailed down his cheek. "The garden is yours to explore as you wish... I suppose I can allow you bits of magic back if I'm nearby... the moment you abuse it Mumbo."

The nails running down his neck sent a sharp reminder through his head. Scar then was quick to smile and pets his face again. "You look wonderful though." he said, eyeing Mumbo's face and how the black hair framed the brightly colored flowers.  "Oh, how I could make them root into that head of yours. So you'd always wear such a pretty crown." Scar said cheerfully.

Mumbo felt a sharp stab of fear at those words. The idea of these flowers digging their way into his skin, into his head! he paled as Scar just continued to smile. "but... no... I think a real crown of ivory and gold would be much prettier on your black hair." 

A pat of his cheek, then Scar leaned down and kissed it lightly. The scent of something like cookies and sage. Coiling around Mumbo's nose and into his lungs. "I hope you enjoy my gardens Mumbo." he whispers into his ear. "Do come inside for dinner soon."

"I... sure..." Mumbo said his mouth dry. With that Scar stood up and snapped his fingers as his coat, cane, and shirt came back to him. The smile ever stayed on his face as he turned and left Mumbo in the large clearing of mushrooms and pretty flowers. 

Dark black eyes looked back to the center, at the large yellow and blue flowers... poisonous it was, but hauntingly beautiful. 

'Kind of like Scar...' his thoughts whispered as Mumbo shook them away. 

His face feels warm, the place where the fae's lips were tingled. The words that this crown he made could stay on his head rung loud. Despite how fuzzy he felt, the fear was there, but... a fondness in his chest stubbornly stayed. 

Mumbo hated how pretty the damn creature was, and how his words were just so wonderful to listen to. Gazing up at the sky again he sighed as the wind blew through the willow branches. 

"the gardens are amazing through." he commented out loud to no one.

[tv-girllover07]

Something metal🥁

Kevin schlieb × fem!reader

Movie: Metal lords

Part 5

Blue italic= there thoughts

Green italic= Kevin narrating

Y/n’s POV

As Im playing the song “Cello Suite No. 1” I see someone walk up to the door slide something underneath it and leave I walk up and pick up the piece of paper and see it has Kevin‘s name on it. I opened up the piece of paper and saw a list of songs on it. When I get home I lay down on my bed with my laptop resting on them, I look up the first song on the list on YouTube.

“War Pigs” never heard it before, I haven’t gotten all the way through it yet as I look at the video, it starts to get really intense and kind of horrifying, and it looked like there was a guy with needles sticking out of his head.

Scene skip ⏭️

The next day I’m in the school, I walk up to the room Kevin was practicing in and see him with headphones in practicing on his drum, I smile to myself then walk away. Then I did the same thing the next day debating if I should go in but I walk away again.

Scene skip ⏭️

After two days of debating if I should go in or not, today I finally decide I’m going to I stand outside the door biting on my thumb nail and I look back at my cello and sigh then I open the door and Kevin stops playing and I drag my cello with me “Hey. Um…” I said nervously “Hi” he said breathing heavily. I grab a chair and take my cello out of its case and rest it against my chest then look at Kevin and play the first note of “War Pigs” then he looks confused and I play the first note again and look at him and turn my head a bit hopefully he will understand then he does and we both start to play the intro to “War Pigs” and we continue to play and as we play we look at each other a couple of times.

Kevin’s POV

Man, she’s amazing. Maybe Hunter’ll change his mind about her when I tell him how much she shreds

Y/n’s POV

As I’m sitting in my speech class listening to the teacher talk about “enunciation and projection” I can feel eyes on me and it’s pissing me off a little, I scratch the side of my head and I still feel eyes on the side on my head and I turn my head to the left and see Hunter looking at me and when I catch him staring at me he looks up and pretends to listen to what the teacher was saying, then there’s a knock on the door and we all turn our heads and some kid in a plaid shirt walks in “Dean Swanson want to see Hunter Sylvester.” The kid says, Hunter nods his head and leaves the room.

Scene skip ⏭️

Kevin’s POV

I pace back-and-forth in Hunter’s basement hearing the sound of the shaver buzzing as Hunter talked “They only got suspended two weeks. Swanson wanted a month, but their ass-rapist coach intervened.” “Yeah, still, they’re gone. They can’t come back to campus or anything.” I said to Hunter trying to be positive “But when they come back, they’ll totally ass-rape me for getting them suspended in the first place” is he serious? “Getting them suspended? It’s their fault. They defaced your hair” I try and reason with him “I flicked him in the chops first” he said remembering what happened just a few days ago “Okay, well, at Clay Moss’s party, they pushed you into the speaker in front of everybody. They started it.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your average suburban Nazi shitbag is gonna see it that way.” The buzzing from the shaver stops, Hunter and I both look in the mirror “How is it?” Hunter asked and I don’t really know what to say “It’s cool. Yeah, it’s cool. Yeah…Yeah” I said quietly “Yeah, I kind of look like Jason Newsted for Metallica, the bass player.” I get confused for a second “Hmm. Oh, right, the one who got fired.” Then Hunter looks a me a little upset then we started walking upstairs to the kitchen “It’s more Viking than Newsted.” I agree “Yeah, like the school mascot.” But Hunter disagrees “No. No, not like the school mascot. Less like the school mascot than anything on Earth. More like a baby’s dick than the school mascot. If a baby’s dick grew its own baby dick, then my hair would be more like--“ Mr Sylvester turns around and looks at both of us and Hunter stops talking so Mr. Sylvester grabs his toast from the toaster and leaves.

Part 6 🥁

[aurathian]

leather -- ao3

for @zelinktines23 -- prompt leather

She went to bed that night cold. Silk was always chilly.

She was born in the lap of luxury. From birth, Zelda knew glittering gems, poofy, expensive dresses, the finest foods and the softest fabrics. She spent her days with the most exclusive tutors and among the perfectly manicured flowers of the courtyards. In the morning, she woke up long after the sun, and then her maids would gently, relaxingly prepare her for the day. In the afternoons, she’d have a large lunch, attend lessons, and read her books in the grand library. By the evening, after feasting on whatever gourmet cuisine was served that night, she was in a silk nightgown, crawling under her silk covers and resting atop her silk pillow. Princess Zelda had not known hardship until she met him.

She was eight when she met Link, son of the leather craftsman who was one of the sole suppliers of leather goods to the Royal Army. Her father, the King, was close friends with him, and Zelda always saw him requesting a new bag or riding gear for her mother or herself.

She liked Link. When he would visit on delivery days, she’d invite him to play in the garden. When he was over, they played like she never had before. When she played in the courtyards with the children of her mother’s friends, they had teatime or played with dolls or talked about boys and their cooties. When Link was over, it got dirty.

He launched balls made of various substances–mud, moss, clumpy dirt, sometimes snow–at her, usually dirtying her dress but oh how she did not care, because for once she really felt like they were playing, not just making polite conversation over hand-me-down, antique dolls because they had to. She launched mud balls and snowballs and dirt balls right back at him.

By the end of it, she would get a scolding from her mother, but she didn’t really mind; the reprimands were worth it.

Which is why that night she had invited him to sit on her bed next to her.

After he left, laying in her smooth, cool sheets, she wished she could smell leather again. That earthy, slightly sweet scent that seemed to follow her knight everywhere he went. Sure, some of that aroma lingered on the silk of her bed, but it was different. It was so much more pleasant when he was really there and she could feel his skin under her fingertips and his hand in her hair…

Maybe she had gone too far. Maybe she had pushed him by begging him to place his hand on her barren shoulder (scandalous!) or to look her in the eyes. For a pair as inseparable as they were, both by duty and feelings, they barely even made eye contact.

Zelda hated the protocol, and she hated how obedient Link was. Just once, she wanted to unravel him. Just once, she wanted him to put his hand on her body because he chose to. Just once.

She went to bed that night cold. Silk was always chilly.

And that next morning she rose at her usual time and did her usual things with her usual personal knight, who acted as he usually did: silent and unfazed, like nothing happened. It was a usual day.

Even though Link was acting like normal, she wanted to know if he was thinking like normal, too. She certainly wasn’t. Anytime she addressed him, her eyes wandered down to his lips. He kept his trained on whatever was behind her, be it a wall or a window. Sometimes, he knelt on the floor. Was it because he didn’t want to talk to her? Did he hate her now? He was supposed to kneel when he was addressed by anybody of royal stature, but they had spent so many years together that this was… unusual.

“What are you doing?” she asked him at one point, her tone biting and sharp. He winced.

“Kneeling, princess, as I am meant to,” he mumbled. Link couldn’t see it, facing his leather boots on the ground, but tears pricked the eyes of the princess he was sworn to protect.

“Fine,” she hissed, turning and walking away. Obediently, he stood and followed.

They turned a corner where a maid scuttled up to them and told the princess that a new leather delivery was here, and that her father requested she receive it since he was unavailable. Of course, Zelda obliged, and the princess and her knight made their way to the courtyard which was riddled with trainees, some in pairs and others sparring with dummies. At the entrance was Link’s father with a wagon of boxes. 

Zelda knew how the deliveries worked. She often accompanied her father to receive them. She also knew that most of these boxes weren’t for the army, but for the nobility who visited the castle often enough that they simply had their commissions delivered there instead. Bags, clothes, sometimes furniture.

“Hello, your highness,” Link’s father greeted warmly. “And my son.” To his son, he nodded, and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s a big delivery this week.”

He began unloading the boxes while Zelda signed off on some paperwork. Link and some other soldiers nearby helped haul the boxes off the wagon and to the side. By the end, there was only one small box left, which Link’s father picked up and handed to Zelda.

“For you, princess,” he said.

“Oh, but I didn’t–”

“No, no, I’m sure you did.”

Link’s father took his wagon and rushed away, leaving a befuddled princess with a tiny box. When she glanced at Link with a brow arched in confusion, he only shrugged and looked past her.

She continued with more of her usual duties and then at nighttime, as usual, her personal knight hung about her room while she brushed her hair. Except they were both silent and it almost turned her red–not with embarrassment.

“Link,” she said, his name slicing the still air, “I’m sorry.”

Her anger was at herself.

“What?”

“We can’t act like nothing happened,” she sighed, setting the brush down. “I’m sorry. Last night– I– I shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”

Link didn’t say anything, only hung his head and twiddled with his thumbs–so unusual of him–and kept quiet.

“I feel bad. I know you don’t feel that way, and it was a mistake for me to… to even think of that.”

“Zelda,” he mumbled, “you never opened the box my father gave you.”

“Huh?”

“Just open it.”

It sat on her nightstand, the cords holding it shut still intact. She’d wondered about its contents all day but never had a moment to open it. Tentatively, Zelda reached over and grasped it, pulled it back to her, and carefully unwound the cords. She pried it open and fished around inside, moving aside the tissue stuffed in to ensure whatever was inside didn’t break.

It was a jewelry box. A dark, simple jewelry box made of leather.

“This must be someone else’s order,” she mused, examining the box.

“Open it.”

Zelda rolled her eyes at him with a smile, muttering something about boxes in boxes, and unlatched it.

Inside was a silver necklace with a small, delicate diamond pendant, nestled within the velvet folds of the box. Gently, Zelda lifted it out of the box, hanging it off her fingers so the pendant spun ever so slowly, just enough for her to admire the details.

“I never ordered this,” she said again. “And your father doesn’t make necklaces, so–”

His lips were on hers.

Wait, what?

When did he even approach? He’d been on the other side of the room leaning against a dresser, watching from afar as she opened the leather jewelry box and took out the diamond necklace. He hadn’t moved an inch, and she knew that because she had watched him out of the corner of her eye the whole time. So when did he get here?

It wasn’t like it mattered anyway, she thought, melting into him. He smelled of leather, sweet and earthy, and his textured skin against hers felt right, warm, like everything she had ever dreamed of.

When he pulled away, she found herself moving toward him, lonely at the loss. They gazed at each other for a quiet, soft moment.

“Was that a bad idea?” he asked, all sense of decorum and–thank the Goddesses, Zelda thought–protocol flying out the window.

“No,” she hummed, reaching her hands up into his hair to pull him in for another kiss as his hands, soft as leather, found their home on her silken skin.

[dawngen]

"Hey Suntuft, can we talk?"

Looking up from her anxious nest preparations, Suntuft paused in sifting moss to study her sister.

"I suppose," she said, giving her sister a playful tail-flick, "I can always make time for you."

Brightstorm made a visible effort to look happy, but Suntuft could tell it was forced. Immediately, her teasing faded to concern, tilting her head.

"... Can we... talk somewhere outside of camp?"

Suntuft didn't speak a single word more in teasing towards her sister after seeing how glum she was. Merely allowing herself to be guided out of camp, Suntuft behaved as normal when other warriors stepped up with warm greetings and playful energy under the cool leaf-fall sun. Brightstorm, however, could hardly muster up a polite meow, tail almost dragging as she guided them out of the camp's hollow-tree exit, and into the forest.

"Something is wrong, isn't it?"

The moment she knew they were fully out of earshot of any other cat, and after a thorough scenting of the area for nearby patrols, Suntuft cut straight to the point. She didn't like to prance around these unpleasant feelings for very long, feeling like she was walking astride a bed of stinging nettle. This behavior was unusual, and it wracked her nerves.

Brightstorm turned, and when she settled, Suntuft followed suit, sitting down and wrapping her tail about her forepaws. All the while, the sandy she-cat could not meet her eyes, looking down to the earth as though to meet her gaze was to invite StarClan's wrath. That likewise chewed at Suntuft's guts with worry.

"If this is about leaf-bare coming, I am sure Oatstar will do fine--"

"I'm pregnant."

Suntuft's mouth hung open as though waiting for prey to leap into it. Stunned, unable to complete her sentence of reassurance, she gaped for a moment longer before quickly shaking her head and regaining some semblance of composure.

"That's--why are you so upset? You always wanted another litter!"

A twinge of jealousy ran like fire ants under her fur. She was so excited for her own pregnancy, and still was she unable to escape this petty, internalized drama of competing with Brightstorm. Darkstar was dead, their apprentice days were over, and yet, could she not feel some joy for her sister? She knew how hard she had taken knowing it was better she did not kit again. Surely she should be celebrating this news with her, rather than seething in having to share Brightstorm's time in the sun.

"Mother... she came to me, in a dream," murmured Brightstorm, and Suntuft's confusion grew.

"Mother?"

"I've... I always wanted a prophetic dream. I thought it would be magical, like being blessed by StarClan. But she only came to warn me."

Suntuft was silent, musing over this knowledge. She could not quite find any jealous feelings regarding Boulderfrost visiting Brightstorm--not when it left the typically bubbly she-cat in such a depressing state. Much as she missed their mother, she would rather be spared the anxiety she scented rolling off of Brightstorm's pelt.

"If this is about how hard your first kitting was, we'll prepare for it. We know now how hard of a time you have, and we can let Beewatcher and the other medicine cats know to get ready."

Rising back to her paws, Suntuft tried not to think about how Brightstorm flinched as she bumped their heads together.

"Maybe this was destiny. You and I, pregnant at the same time? Perhaps it means something for our kits--"

"They're... they're not Bayspots's!"

Jolting back, fur fluffing out, Suntuft finally was able to meet Brightstorm's eyes. They were wild and panicked, beautiful copper flashing hints of wide at the edges from how wide they were.

"... What?"

Suntuft felt all of her feelings of self-depreciation and jealousy dissipate, like mist in the hot summer sun. All that remained was a scorching anxiety clawing its way up her back, prickling her with an unwelcome sense of foreboding.

"Bayspots has been so distant from me," Brightstorm began, and as she spoke, it was as if she could not stop. Like a sickness she needed to get out of her system, Brightstorm practically heaved as she carried on, looking on the verge of weeping hysterics.

"I don't know what I did, or what I could do, I just--ever since the kits left the nest, ever since they became apprentices, she's been skies away from me. She'll be right next to me, and it'll feel like mountains are between us, and I've been so lonely, and I--I--"

"Hey, hey."

Quieting Brightstorm, who fell into helpless sobs, with a brush of her tail against her shoulder, Suntuft squeezed in close.

"What is done is done," Suntuft murmured, and Brightstorm tucked her face against her chest.

"We are all still cats at the end of the day, not gods. We're not perfect, and we make mistakes."

But this mistake... It was huge. It would be like a volcanic eruption from the time of their ancestors, devastating and life-ruining. How would Bayspots react? Her kits? Their clan?

Lenient as they had become with the warrior code, allowing rogues and kittypets in as they have, it did not mean their fellow cats would look kindly upon this infidelity.

Thoughtful, Suntuft sat silent while Brightstorm rode out the last of her hiccupping cries, and when she spoke, it was with a tone of quiet consideration.

"... We were left behind by a dying kittypet, weren't we?"

Confused, Brightstorm looked up with red, bleary eyes.

"Yes, she brought us here for a second chance."

Suntuft nodded, as if that sentence was exactly what she needed to get the ball rolling for the idea taking root in her thoughts.

"I'm very nervous about my first pregnancy," she continued, and when Brightstorm opened her mouth to speak, she lifted her tail to silence her. "It's only reasonable that my sister help take care of me during it. Someone else can take on her duties, as our clan is currently thriving, with plenty of warriors to step up. Even in sickness, we have the means."

Brightstorm looked on in quiet confusion, but Suntuft kept speaking, tail beginning to lash as her thoughts snowballed.

"It'll be several more moons before I kit. You can stay with me in the nursery to ensure I get plenty of rest and am kept well-fed, as the upcoming leaf-bare will be difficult for a new queen. And then, when I kit..."

She looked over, and then down, down to Brightstorm's still-slim belly that would have to be kept strategically hidden for the following moons.

"You go out, you go and find prey for me, and return. You return with a litter of kits left abandoned in the cold, a rogue having left them behind. Like Beewatcher and Sunnydash, it is not unusual, cruel as it is."

Brightstorm's eyes lit with understanding, then dimmed from the grief of knowing what it will mean.

"I am sure I'll have a small litter, so I will be able to nurse them," gently Suntuft continued, and she knew just as well as Brightstorm how much this would hurt. Her own heart ached, knowing what it would mean for Brightstorm to have to separate herself from her kits, but it would be too dangerous for her to keep them. What if they looked like her affair partner? What if they looked like her?

That would be something they'd have to think of as well when explaining the rogue story, but maybe, Suntuft could lie and pretend she had birthed them, so at least if they looked like Brightstorm, the genetics could be played away.

"We'll make it work." Suntuft pressed their foreheads together. "I'll get to know all of the herbs you will need, and how to help you, so no one has to know. The medicine cats will think it is just all for me."

Brightstorm silently nodded, quick and anxious, and Suntuft gently began to groom her head, trying to soothe the anxiety she knew was not good for the young kits growing inside of her.

"... But I need to know, Brightstorm," she continued, soft as duck down, "I need to know who parented them."

Brightstorm flinched, and leaned back, hesitation visible in her face. After a long beat of patient silence, finally, Brightstorm conceded, gaze turning back downward, and ears pinning back.

"... It... It's Eagleburn."

[stitchthesewords]

👀

(give me ur best shot with this belle >:D)

HEHEHEHEHEHEHHE You geeeeet a Clethubs scene!

Taglist and story below the cut

Bdubs took a deep breath. The cool chainmail of his half veil was like holding a glacier to the dark hickey on his neck, partially concealed by his coat. His robe. His moss. He was, alarmingly, unable to tell if it was a fashion piece or a part of him anymore. The hallways echoed under his feet. The servants of the Crastle were all asleep, which was good for him. It wasn’t like his relationship with the king was some big secret – he wasn’t Martyn, but he didn’t want to deal with the looks he got when there was a clear and visible marking of it.

The door to his bedroom greeted him with a creak on its hinges and he sighed, gazing at them. It felt like the whole thing was starting to come apart already. As he brought his gaze back to the foreground, he was not surprised to find Etho lounging in the armchair by his fireplace. Bdubs had chosen that armchair specifically for him. The door creaked again on its way to shut behind him and he made his way over, throwing himself over top of where Etho was writing. Or drawing. Bdubs liked to call it doodling and Etho liked to call it schematics.

“The king done with you for the day?” Etho asked, leaning down to kiss Bdubs through his mask. Bdubs pouted, but he noticed Etho’s eyes were on a different part of the room. When he followed, he noticed Cleo laid out on his bed, waiting for him to turn his attention to them.

“Took you long enough to figure out I was here,” they said. Bdubs squawked and fumbled his way from Etho’s lap, straightening out his clothes as he came to a stop. No matter how long the three of them had been at this game, Bdubs would never get used to both their attentions being on him.

Bdubs was very certain of his relationships – Cleo, Etho, Ren, Impulse – very certain indeed. And he knew whatever Ren and Cleo had going on was not romantic in the slightest. It was more like watching a cat play with a meal before letting it go again. Impulse was, for obvious reasons, not connected with the people in the Crastle, and some part of Bdubs stomach always twisted a little when he thought of how Ren might react to that. Whatever Etho and Cleo had going on, however, was a mystery to him. He could never tell if they were rivals, opposite suitors, or maybe even just…bashful about one another. He never saw them so much as hold hands, but both of them assured him they were ‘more than just friends’. Whatever that meant to them, Bdubs had no clue.

“Warn a guy if you’re going to both camp out in his bedroom!” he shouted, stomping where he stood. The dual laughter made his cheeks heat up and his face crinkle a bit.

“’Your most private of areas’ as I think Ren’s taken to calling it?” Cleo said with a laugh.     They sat up on the bed and crossed their legs. “I wasn’t planning on staying long anyway. Got statues to build, raw meat to eat for dinner.”

Bdubs still sputtered regardless and crossed his arms, turning away from both of them. Cleo snorted and that was a lovely noise, frankly.

“Cleo and I were just talking about some defensive plans for the Crastle, actually,” Etho said, picking up his pen from his notebook and stashing both away.

“Since when do you care about the Crastle?” Bdubs asked.

“Since always,” came Etho’s smooth reply, though there was a look in his eyes. Impulse. Cleo didn’t know about Impulse either.

The two of them were quiet for long enough that Cleo scoffed to get their attention. “If the two of you are done making heart eyes and drooling over each other,” they said, finally rising from the bed. In a few steps, they made their way to Bdubs, Standing over him well enough to use him as an arm rest. They didn’t, this time, but they did lean down and, arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, kiss his cheek. “I’ll be going now. Good night Bdubs, Etho,” they said, before limbering out of the room.

@atherix @braxiatel @greatbridge @ellalily @lesbianwilby @em-mermaid @loombarrow

[theretirementstory]

Bonjour et bienvenue on this cloudy, cool morning, it’s only 5c out there at the moment and we can expect a high of only 10c. However, I don’t care as I am going out for lunch to the restaurant by the lake.

4 years ago, to the day, I stood on the rooftop of the museum in Mahdia and took this photo. I had arrived on the 22nd for the start of a 10 day holiday in Tunisia, I felt it was a good idea to be reminded of the sun and sea.

I have decided to do the music section first this week for reasons which may become clearer as the blog progresses. The first song is dates from 1980 and is by the Average White Band, its, Let’s Go Round Again. AWB are probably better known for their hit “Pick up the Pieces. I hope you enjoy these songs. The second song also from the 80’s is “Its My Life” by Talk Talk from 1986.

My young friend Pauline celebrated her 27th birthday on Monday, she had a great day. On Sunday she had been to the beach in Barcelona enjoying some someshine. She had a cake with candles and made a wish that I would recover! What a wonderful wish 😊. She said for the first time she is loving her work, obviously working in Barcelona, where she benefits from the brighter days, has booster her morale. Not like when she lived in Dublin and the bright days were few and far between.

After an horrendous nightmare where I felt like being “The Pied Piper” and leading zillions of 🐀 🐀 🐀 to the banks of the River Aube, I decided to ask my neighbour to check out my composter. The verdict was “No rats in here Mrs” oh did that make me feel better and I went into the garden and cardboard mulched around the hellebores which made my day. I also found close to the hellebores and even in the grass signs, if not primulas, then cowslips. I plan on letting the grass grow in order for them to at least flower, as long as I don’t have long spells in hospital, I hope to not let the grass be “shorn to the ground” which is what my neighbour seems to do to his grass. It’s kind of him to mow my grass but not to have it covered in moss during the wet months.

Primulas have been messed up again in the potager by “the damned cat” and now it has found it’s way into the back garden to 💩 first of all in the grass and then into the raised bed to not “tiptoe through the tulips” (as the song goes) but to 💩 and scratch among the daffodils. Is there no end to this “Monster”.

I had hurt my back last Friday replanting the planter (think I have pulled a muscle). So plans to add more cardboard mulch to the borders are on hold. As I can’t even carry a quarter bag of compost!

The nurse came and took my bloods, I had felt rather faint (hungry) before she came so bless her she was going to get me some breakfast before she left. I just asked for a cup of milk, which she brought me, I thought that was very kind of her.

I did a lot of reading at the weekend which meant that my knitting has been neglected 😱. I did a little bit early in the week but my heart isn’t in it at the moment. I went into town on Tuesday to see Claudine and to give the photocopied pattern for the crocheted pendant and earrings to her. We are looking to make some smaller items to sell at a lower price so that people will buy them at the markets. I then walked into town to see if the jeweller would be able to look at the stone in my grandmothers engagement ring to confirm if it was real or not. When I arrived possibly about 14:50 he was out and would be another 20 minutes or so. I couldn’t hang around!

The toilet I had fitted when I first moved into this house in 2019, has for years had a temperamental flush. Occasionally it flushed and water continued running down the back of the bowl causing terrible rumbling noises in the pipes. I guessed it was due to limescale but how to solve it? I asked my new plumber the cause and he cleaned the flush but it was still doing it occasionally. Well he came and worked his magic this week I think he cleared a lot of the limescale out of the cistern, replaced the flush, which now does exactly as needed a half flush as well as a full flush and at the moment no gurgling pipes.

Oh my goodness, have I told you how wonderful my grandchildren are? I received three videos of them playing at home. They are happy to play separately but the youngest (my grandson) was playing with his ro-ro ferry near where my granddaughter was playing with her dolls, needing some help he asked so politely if she could help him, she stopped what she was doing to open one of the doors then when he wanted it closing again she did that too. It was so wonderful to see.

“The Photographer” was unable to take photos at Scarborough AFC on Tuesday as he was working a 1-9 shift. He had been to an hotel near to Skipton for a night which included a meal at the Michelin Star restaurant. It was a 7 course taster menu, it all looked really delicious.

“The Trainee Solicitor” and “The Ex-Graduate” had four nights away in a “lodge” in Wensleydale. It had beautiful views but on their last night they were so cold and rain was coming in through a skylight. They were also disappointed with the siting of the hot tub. They did manage a decent walk to Hardraw Falls before returning soaked through. They took a trip to Aysgarth Falls it’s an area of renowned movie locations and of course Wensleydale cheese is known from the Wallace and Gromit film series.

My appointment with the oncologist was on Friday and as I had perused my blood test results I knew that all was not well. However, telling myself I am no doctor, I waited to hear what he had to say. Yes, cancer is back! So there I am not struck dumb at all and my first question was “is there treatment available?” The reply was “yes” my next question “when do we start chemotherapy, next week?” Yes I go into hospital on Tuesday. That’s all I needed to know. Poor Monique when I messaged her…. She replied did I want her to ring me or call to see me the next day. I said for her to come and visit me the following day. Apparently she had cried, she rang her daughter and cried again. My friends are rallying again, hence the restaurant lunch today. Anie who is still suffering with shingles pain without the postules, made me laugh when she said the postules can’t get through her fat, she isn’t fat at all! She too provided moral support. Pauline hadn’t answered my message yet and I know she will be upset. However, I am here and obviously fit enough to go through more treatment. It has made me think that perhaps the nine years I had when I thought I was a cancer survivor, I was actually just living with cancer. Who cares, I have had some great times and if I have any say in the matter I will have a lot more to come!

Monique came yesterday and we had a really good chat (about two hours worth) 😳. She always amazes me, she has a lovely garden at home but she looked out at mine, at the hyacinths just starting to flower, the tulips, daffodils, iris and the hellebores and declared it a wonderful garden. She loves the potager full of violas whose seed blew on the wind and filled the potager with yellow and green brightness. Then she noticed the violas tulips and iris I had transplanted to there location near the composter and was full of admiration. I felt very proud. I think I had better check the seeds I have to plant this year as I really do want the garden to be a riot of colour!

I had my book delivery on Thursday, whew what a relief! I have plenty of reading material to take into hospital with me.

Now I really must leave my bed and start to get ready for my lunchtime rendezvous.

Oh I would just like to add a special “God morgen” to anyone reading this in Norway.

Until next time…..

[bye-bye-firefly]

Hellooo!!! I have a question! Of the leprous houses in Nameless, do you have a favorite? They’re very cool, I like them a bunch <3

Also, congrats on the additions to your bio. It looks lovely. 10/10

ive only JUST now seen this ive had a kinda busy week (kinda = ive been mostly panicking about how close to november it is and also wanting to write but not writing except for like little bits of nameless and also hanging out with friends on the side. so you know. normal average busy) BUT IM SO EXCITED. okay out of all the houses i can say for certain my favourite house has and will always be the living plants arc house. opening a door to a whole other world and its filled with plants and feels like constant summer and then you open the trees and they bleed and there are people inside. i was ECSTATIC writing that arc not only because i knew what i wanted to happen during the time inside (the love confession, the caves, the gradual descent into the cold, the BLEEDING FUCKING PLANTS) but also because it was just so fucking cool to run through. everything feels extremely simplistic, but the implications are INSANE.

there were PEOPLE HERE. there are signs that there was a community there before it all went to shit. if you bleed plants, you are likely walking on a lot of corpses. how many people got interested in this place? exactly how many miles did the gang walk before they ended up in the cave, or even in the dead part of the world? the house clearly values trees over grass and flowers (the dead part of the world is cold but there are still people out that far and they are trees), but the very first thing the gang starts bleeding is flowers. i dont ever do a whole lot of word building, which always bites me in the ass later, but the fun part about the fic is that i dont necessarily have to DO a whole lot of world building. the world tends to write itself with necessary logic and assumption and isnt that the pure horror of the situation?

you only have your assumptions. you have no choice but to assume things based on what you observe and you have no way to prove these assumptions false or true. did the gang necessarily focus on that? no. no one expresses to one another outside of the moment it is revealed and brought up that people are inside the trees and they are bleeding flowers that there is a possibility they could become trees or plants. but it still weighs on those sections. shuichi could die and become a bed of moss. you feel it in the back of your mind and when i reread these chapters its a constant thing for me to remember that. they are walking over corpses. they could become these same corpses. they are walking through a place where people lived, and subsequently died. there is ARCHEOLOGY that could be fucking done here but what archeologist is going to believe someone when they tell them about these houses? the studies and published books are barely even thought of because they're so OUT THERE. kokichi likely only got the books in because he requested them and what are the librarians going to do? leave them to rot in storage? no, theyre going to put them out on the shelves!

but just imagine it man. you are trapped inside a house. the trees have bodies in them. the people inside are still breathing. you are bleeding flowers. youve found a little town that is now abandoned and overgrown. there are nettles covering a path. you are bleeding flowers. you are running out of food. your legs hurt from walking. it is cold. you are bleeding flowers. you need to rest. you are bleeding flowers. like what horrific imagery is going on in this section. if i were to rewrite this fic or polish it up more, i would definitely make the imagery more vivid and visceral. i really do love this section. i always talk about it because im SO proud of that section and i LOVE that house

THANK YOUUUU re is so amazing awesome for making those blinkies genuinely one of the most fucked up exchanges in the entire fic. and i dont know if you knew this but there are many exchanges

[meissashush]

4, 11, 17, 18, 25 <3

I liveeeeeeeeeee

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Good feral or bad feral?

My favorite word ever is susurrus; a hushed sound, a murmur, the rustling of wind. It looks and sounds how it should and it makes my brain purr.

The word I hate the most is turgid. I don't think I need to quantify that, just look at the damn word.

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

Honestly? Nope! I don't kill my darlings much at all. I do, however, sometimes set them aside into a different dock to be recycled later. My 'darlings' are phrases and events that I think are fun and cool, so they get to stay because they are fun and cool.

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

Uhhhhh -shoves my piles of WIP under a rug- What wip? I don't have wip. Haha.... haaaaa

Okay, well let's take a look at one that probably will never get published. Pre-Tears of The Kingdom being released, I was getting out my impatience by throwing Noctis to the wolves. Now I'm well into the new game, and ironically I can still make this fic work, but idk if it will ever evolve beyond what it is--selfish fun writing.

Some excerpts:

The Legend of Lucis Noctis wakes up in the Sheikah Resurrection Pool, completely alone and confused about where he is. There is no Zelda to speak to him, nor does he have a connection to any of the Messengers. The pedestal that held the Sheikah Slate is empty, just a glowing circle with a strange ruin carved into it and a rectangular space. His magic has no interaction with it. The ‘bed’ he had been lying it is entirely dry, as Link had resurrected here, and Noctis was just dumped there by Etro. The air is humid and warm, but Noct doesn’t exactly fancy wandering around the weirdest ruins he has ever seen butt-naked. They definitely aren’t from Solheim, though he couldn’t have placed them if he tried. Ignis would be so disappointed in him. ... Noct slowly tries to get his bearings, not sure where he is or what is going on. He feels like he’s in a sort of stasis as well, his head pounding and sluggish. He wanders down the hill and finds the remains of the Old Man’s fire, as well as the apple tree and a large church. He makes his way towards it, not in the least hopeful because it looks to be in as much disrepair as anything else, but unwilling to risk getting caught out at night when the daemons came out. He wanders past the broken and overgrown fountain and up the stone steps, mildly unnerved by the weird metal statue that sits half in a puddle, covered in rust and moss. ...

Up the stairs towards the Temple (of Time) leaves Noct with a foreboding feeling. There is the metal leg of one of the Guardians sticking half out in the archway and it sets his teeth on edge, but he feels stupid once he realizes it’s another statue. The thing is terrifying, looming over the rubble, but the designs are similar to the Shrine he came out of, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. All he knows is that he doesn’t really want to meet the guy who designed them. He decides to skirt around the room and head up the left side, only to see the ‘statues’ frozen where they were climbing up the side of the temple, and Noct decides they _definitely_ aren’t statues. Fuck. He continues into the Temple, bummed to find it mostly torn asunder on the other side, but wanders over to see a few pots. Gladio is in his head, emphasizing the importance of hydration, so he picks one up to see if it might be water tight. Something rattles in it. He tips it over to find a bundle of arrows, which is weird as shit but he’s not complaining. He looks in the next few, finds more arrows and yet another chest, this one with a bow. He’s pretty much convinced he’s either trapped in a video game or in a coma dream, because there is no way anyone would leave around a bunch of chests with ‘loot’ in it. Still, he takes what he can carry and grabs a pot. Before wandering back down to see where the was water that wasn’t full of robot, he eyes the statue at the end of the Temple. After everything he’s gone through back home—did any of that even really happen?—he feels weird not being respectful of obvious religious iconography. His own gods, after all, we really very real. He can’t hope that the ones of this world will turn a blind eye to looting. The statue is way less… detailed, then he’s used to. All rounded edges and winged like a Messenger in the Cosmology. Also the six little ones circling the big one was making him uncomfortable, but he made a show of walking up to the statue and bowing anyway. “Hello, um, statue? Well, the… uh, god, I guess, that this statue depicts. I really hope you won’t mind me taking these. I mean, they’re just laying their otherwise, and I kinda need to be able to defend myself. I’m, uh, also going to take a pot to get some water. I hope that’s okay?” He feels weird and also stupid. The statue feels like it’s smiling at him like an indulgent mother. He takes the lack of smiting to be a yes. ...

He walks down the stone steps, carefully looking for signs of life or danger, and tries to ignore the amount of robot corpses frozen in time around him. If it weren’t for the bird and bugs and breeze, he would have assumed he was frozen in time with them. Instead, the whole thing just feels apocalyptic. The huge fuck-you glowing tower definitely wasn’t helping things. Big, blue, and foreboding. Just like his— Okay, no, that joke didn’t even make sense to him, and he’s the only one around to appreciate it There was also another weird glowy thing a little ways away, also blue, but he felt even less inclined to wander out there. Instead, he walked to the base of the glowing tower. It had a weird grate system along all its edges that he could probably climb, but he wasn’t sure how long that would take, let alone how long it would take him to get back down. Just beyond the tower, he can see what looks like a decrepit stone wall. He walks over the hill, man the breeze is nice here, and towards the wall. As he gets closer, he starts to see a road with lined with flags somewhere in the distance. At the edge, he can the road is full of destroyed buildings, leading towards a broken bridge and off in the distance a mountain with a split down the center. He feels incredibly alone. He walks along the wall, heading right, hoping to find the remains of a guard posting or possibly somewhere that leads off the plateau. He doesn’t want to believe he’s the only person left. As he moves right, he encounters the East Abbey, and, unfortunately, more guardians. It’s the humming noise that alerts him to them at first, having opted to ignore the creepy statues in favor of inspecting the wall. Once he hears it though, he whips his head around, desperate to find the source of the sound. He finds it, blue and red and aiming right at him. Noct warps before he can think. Once, twice, until he’s undercover. He’s breathing heavy, backing away from the robots with his heart in his throat, when he starts the hear the buzzing again. To his left (facing with his back to the east now) is another one. Without thinking, Noct runs.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Ah yes, the hug. As in, the one thing I have given you to survive on while I slooooowly stretch this relationship as thin as it'll get.

Nyx couldn’t pretend the warm tears on his face were the rain, much as he wanted to. He sniffed wetly as they came, unwilling to look at Cor, who must have thought him a child. He felt exhausted, as he always did once the storm finally came, the burn in his hands leaving behind an old, familiar ache. In Galahd, he used to bury himself into his mother’s arms, letting the storm roll around them as the grip of Ramuh’s Temper finally let him loose. He had no shame in his tears back then.  Now? Now there was only shame.

This scene was rewritten TWELVE times. Mostly because Nyx did not want to admit that he was crying. For a while it was just a place holder as

He pulled away from Cor, quickly turning to rub the rough edge of his sleeve over his face like a sniveling child. Cor’s hand was still on his shoulder, firm, but Nyx was desperate to make space between them. To spare Cor the indignity of comforting him.

Nyx is such a drama-queen. He was so much meaner to himself about this before I cut it down. The man needs therapy.

“Cor, I’m sorry, I—” “No.”

This is where Cor having a kid makes him a MUCH better romantic interest. Pre-Rosea Cor probably would have let Nyx continue to pretend he was fine so he could keep his dignity. This Cor? Nah, he knows only one thing and it is Hug.

The fight left him as that firm hand pulled him in, warm arms coming to wrap around and hold him close. Nyx stood, stunned, as Cor hugged him. A broad palm made slow, warm circles on his back as Nyx choked on the tears he couldn’t swallow anymore. The thick embrace of the heavy rain swallowed the noises of the city, and as Nyx relented into his arms, all he could hear was the thundering of his own heart against the steady rhythm of Cor’s. He let his forehead fall to Cor’s damp shoulder, his arms coming up to grip desperately at the man that held him. “It’s okay,” Cor whispered. “I have you.”

This is about as much fluff I can manage before I start to squirm. Naturally I made Nyx reflect this.

Thunder shuddered around them as Nyx relaxed into his embrace. The proud part of him wanted to pull away, to fake bravado and deny himself this humanity as he had done storm after storm in Insomnia, but he didn’t. He burrowed his face into the crook of Cor’s neck, content to ride out the storm in his arms.

And then I made myself swallow that so we could get more hug out of it. You're welcome.

It was warm. Warmer than it had any right being, soaked from the rain as they were. Nyx couldn’t even remember the last time he hugged someone, beyond the barebones slap on the back Lib had given him a few weeks ago at Yamachang’s. He didn’t know how, but life had slowly dissolved into nothing but workday after grinding workday, every moment spent picking up the pieces that monster had left behind and attempting to cobble them back together into a respectable Kingsglaive. To sew himself back together, too, in the wake of his betrayal. They stood for a while, Cor gently murmuring comforting words in his ear as the man continued to soothe his hand against Nyx’s soaked jacket. His face was aching from where it was pressed against the obnoxious epaulettes of Cor’s formal uniform, and Nyx couldn’t help but snicker at the stupidity of their situation. Two of the strongest men in Lucis, soaked to the bone and hugging it out in an abandoned guard post. The press would have a field day.

This last line was actually one of the first I wrote. I was mostly making light of them hugging in the plotting portion of this fic, so its at least a little bit surprising how serious it got. Though, to be fair, the Original also had no hug at all, soooooooooo

“Feeling better?” Cor asked, voice warm and bemused against Nyx’s temple. “Yeah,” Nyx sighed, still unwilling to pull away from Cor’s embrace. “Fuck, I needed that.”

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

Tredd is lactose intolerant.

[yazpadfoot]

Hey so not entirely sure I'm doing this right but I'm going to try! Heheheh :)

Ok so could you do the 'bright as sun' on your headcannon post and use either the romantic or platonic relationship, whichever works better, maybe even both?

Idk where to start cuz it's hard to sum people up in a few words (especially myself hehe) and that's cuz humans are really complex and awesome :D

I really love plants and nature, I would spend all of my time outdoors building tree forts and observing moss (as long as it's warm enough outside) and I just generally enjoy plants and mushrooms and really anything green/nature-y.

I'm very sensitive to emotions so I feel them extra strong and have really high empathy (which has it's positives and negatives). I try my best to be the kindest version of myself cuz there is so much horrible shit in this world. This kinda leads to me staying strong and acting positive to support the people in my life who need it even when i'm struggling (a lot rn actually 😭). The world can be such an amazing and magical place, and god I do my best to see the beauty in it and give out beauty back.

I have a weird relationship with food but I absolutely love breakfast. I have a fucking huge earring collection (like 100 pairs and they are all like dangling goofy lil things). I have two ways to dress and it's either a casual outfit that's sweatpants and a sweatshirt or I'm wearing a flowy dress. Also my room have like every piece of wall covered with something either stickers, quotes, poster, picture, drawings, lights, and I love it cuz visual clutter is really cool. Also my favorite feeling is being wrapped up in blankets on my bed (possibly cuddling someone) scrolling through tumblr with nothing else I need to be doing.

Umh the character I relate to the most is James (I actually kinda look like him cuz of my hair and glasses) and my favorite ship rn is jegulus & marylily cuz of all those rich dynamics :D

Anyway! Thank you for taking your time to read this! You seem pretty cool so im following you now heheheh. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day/night :))

Hey :)

After reading your ask, I decided to do both platonic and romantic relation ship.

Platonic relationship - I think you would be bestie with Remus and Lily. Of course, you would be friends with other marauders, but these two would be your closest friends. You first time became really close, when you joined them in study group, 'cause you had some problems with writing homework (or you just wanted to study with them). Your friendship is based on doing little things for each other. Lily would come with you outdoor to just spend time with you. I really like that part when you wrote you love breakfast - I think this is thing you and Remus have in common. Like you chat together about food and all this stuff. I think you would have really beautiful relationship with them.

Romantic relationship - for some reason I see you with Pandora. She always had the ability to find person who is special. You weren't really friends before, like you talked once or you said hi to each other, but first time you really started talking was when she saw you in corridor helping some first year student. She always knew you are kind, but when she saw you there, she felt something telling her that you are really good person. She walked to you and started talking to you and offered to walk you to your class. Later she started talking to you everyday and always walked you to your class. After month spending time together, she asked you on date. You went to Hogsmeade. You had really good time and you started dating. I think your relationship is based on spending time together and doing things together. Like she always watch you building tree forts or she helps you with it. Also, you two spend time with your friends and everybody thinks you are such a cute couple!

I really hope you like this! <3

Have a nice day xxx