#ah well!! yeets this into the void

[cloudstrifing]

Nighttime Creatures

rating: E (or more accurately, somewhere between mature/explicit)

relationship: tseng/rufus (final fantasy vii)

chapters: 2/2

words: ~14,000

tags: denial of feelings, not actually unrequited love, boss/employee relationship, blood and injury, hurt/comfort (in the second half), tseng’s pov, sexual content, tseng is afraid of intimacy & rufus is afraid he can’t be loved

Tseng remembers his place. He knows that having sex with him is a safe, convenient way for Rufus Shinra to let off steam—no more and no less. His own feelings don't matter.

Rufus, meanwhile, just wants Tseng to stay.

>> on AO3 here <<

[eri-pl]

It's ok to send asks (more or less about Tolkien, let's keep this blog on topic), I will more likely answer than not. It's ok to comment even if the post is old. If something that I wrote contradicts the canon, and I seem not to be aware of it, I would prefer to be informed (politely) of this fact.

Post Masterlist

Online tool to easily make character sorting polls and KMF-style polls.

Tolkien

The Great Reread

Proper-ish writing (Silm fanfics)

Ao3 in general

Steve the intern Maia / Ao3 - comedy, Mandos, Darkening

Amandil / Ao3 - sad/estel, fall of Numenor

Irrational / Ao3 - fluff + math + music + nature of Men, kidnap fam

Blood, red like fire / Ao3 - ominous, Feanor's mother, pregnancy

WIP fic with early Melkor PoV (3rd person but it still counts)

Athrabeth Finrod ah Ilmare - fluff + astronomy + well it's Finrod so of course he asks Big Questions

War of Wrath, they shall name it - Manwë character study, somewhat sad

Writing propmts / ideas / sketches

(yes, you can use those, credit me if you quote more or less directly)

Some original Maiar, feel free to use

Crack taken seriously the um… very personal edition? (includes fangirling and Blue Wizards)

Nerdanel could but would she? (I hate Feanor less now, ignore the tag a bit)

Synopsis of “how I would do Third Age Sauron redemption fic (second part of interconectednss. It starts with Saruman not being a jerk. It may end on the world ending. Or not.)

Very AU: Melkor ok, Aule and Yavanna bad but opposing each other.

So, you want to canonize Tauriel? Here’s how.

Maglor in Numenor (it ends better than you’d expect)

I’m not a shipper, but Aredhel

yeet the Ring into space (not a very original idea)

I don’t write real people fics, but

Nobilis/Silm: Feanorians

Consider: A “ghost of Feanor in LotR” fanfic, but instead of, say, Elrond, it is Gimli who can perceive the ghost. (Literally just this. Plus some tags and discussion below post.)

Rework of Beren and Luthien, keeping the early idea of "C&C are helpful", but compatible with the rest of the canon.

Long reblog chain (partially mine) ending with Maedhros with undead Fingon as his hand (lierally).

If Osse went evil

Feanorians should go to a theater

Celegorm humts in his dreams

underexplored topic of Celebrimbor-Annatar discussions: the Feanorian… well, the whole thing about them, Oath and Darkness and all that.

discussions of greek mythology/Silm exchange program (Morgoth for Hermes) (see all the reblogs, there are good ideas there!)

a lot of "what-ifs" about Feanor not doing one of the questionable things he did (for different ones) (below cut)

Morgoth&Sauron as Polish fairytale devils (I wish I could draw this)

Musing, rambling, essays, headcanons -

Masterlist 1 (themed: Ainur, Gift of Men, Feanor, language)

Masterlist 2 (misc)

(yes, you can use those too)

Funny

Badly made Morgoth on a cake 

Spiders! Luthien! Also, Miriel! And more spiders!  (source of this idea)

SmurFingolfin

cursed poll-haired Thranduil

Sauron goo in a jar

Morgoth as a red canary

Feanor in the Void ;)

gecko!Glaurung

Polls!-

Finished polls masterlist 1 (themed polls: worst[x], fandom, dark lords, Feanorians, which Vala is a patron of [x])

2 (other polls)

Pics

H tengwa

Dagor Dagoradh with a car (+Sauron) + Elrond's van comparision

Finrod in a technicolor jacket

12 versions of Melkor (Morgoth): singing in the Ainulindale, early days, Dark Rider, in Aman, with Ungolianth, warlord, charmed into sleep, gloating to Hurin, bonus 1, bonus 2, bonus 3

the Oath of Feanor as a snake-thing

Feanorian-ish coloring pages: 1, 2, colored eldritch!Oath!knot

Melkor|Morgoth through the Ages + some bonus (tag, not a single post)

why goatee looks stupid on Melkor|Morgoth

kind of tutorial for easy Silmarils / light in graphics software

small Valar in a circle

Feanorian floor tiles (set of tiling patterns)

Ossë

candles&moths

Eonwë in pajamas

Emu with a Silmaril (great crack talk in reblogs)

Other 

Cosmere (old posts)

Post-RoW predictions for Stormlight Archive (plus)

Ten spears go to battle

Nobilis (old posts)

Why I cannot play this game

You know you think too much about Nobilis when…

“wyrd” ws “weird”

numbers

What happens to instances of an Estate after a successful Flower Rite — some thoughts

You don’t FR a Mimic

Excrucian eyes : Deceivers

About Warmains

Warmains (feel free to use)

Deceivers (same)

Misc

grammar rant 

another

first one

The words "prodigy" and "prodigal" are not related.

[thessalian]

Faerun!Alisaie vs The Nightsong

And, eventually, the Shadowfell

Balthazar: Ah, great, you opened the way! General Thorm will be greatly pleased. Now let's get you back to the General--

Aylin: GET FUCKED.

Alisaie: Um ... how about 'no'? We only more or less went along with your bullshit because we weren't in the mood to kick your ass at the time. If she's what causing Ketherick Thorm's immortality--

Aylin: NOT BY CHOICE; THEY'RE ASSHOLES.

Alisaie: Yeah, we figured that because shadow curse and captured tieflings and a whole lot of other shit I've had to clean up for the last week or so, but thanks for the confirmation. Anyway, if she's causing Thorm's immortality? She's not going anywhere with you.

Balthazar: I told you that you'd regret raising a weapon to me-- *urk?*

Alisaie: *has already stabbed him while he wasn't looking* I dosed my coffee with an Elixir of Vigilance this morning, asshole!

Balthazar: I ... will... *raises hands to cast*

Wyll: Ah-ah-ah; I don't think so. *Counterspell*

Balthazar: I ... have ... Haste ... so... *raises hands to cast*

Gale: I think not. *Counterspell*

Balthazar: ...the fuck?

Alisaie: ELFSONG TAVERN SAYS HELLO, YOU RANCID PILE OF LUNCHMEAT! *finishes him off immediately*

Gale: ...It would have been so convenient if his undead soldiers had gone down with him, you know...

Alisaie: *basically an adamantine Cuisinart*

Wyll: But we get to watch this... Oop. We have casters. *Eldritch Blast*

Skeleton Caster: *is yeeted into the void*

Stabnation: *ensues, and is way easier with the main threat eliminated after only one round*

Aylin: Huh. I'm next, I suppose, Wannabe Justiciar?

Shadowheart: My Lady says--

Aylin: Your 'Lady' speaks bullshit, and sees you as a disposable tool. Also, there's a lot you don't remember, and you don't need her to get it back. Because she wouldn't quite give the truth to you anyway.

Shadowheart: ...wut...

Alisaie: Shadowheart ... Shar doesn't want you to have anything but her. You saw what happened with Vlaakith.

Shadowheart: Are you saying I'm like Lae'zel?!?

Gale: Erm. Vlaakith not the only one turning her ... let's be kind and say 'worshippers' into suicide bombers. Or literally suicide bombs, but--

Wyll: *elbows Gale* Shutupthisisnotaboutyou!

Gale: ...Shall I conjure up some popcorn?

Wyll: ......You can do that?

Alisaie: *sigh* Ignore those two. I'm saying that the gods work in their own interests, and ... I didn't want to lose you by forcing you not to do what Shar wants, but ... I don't want to lose you to Shar either. I think you deserve better.

Shadowheart: Than a god?

Alisaie: Gods don't make good partners.

Gale: *literally conjuring popcorn to share with Wyll* Don't mind me! I'll just be over here! Being a living example of the point the Swordswoman of Song is making!

Wyll: 'Swordswoman of Song'?

Gale: It's got the same syllables as Blade of the Frontiers, and fits fairly well. Did you have something better?

Wyll: The Battledancer.

Gale: ...Oooh. That's good.

Alisaie: Just ... ignore Statler and Waldorf over there. She stripped your memory, Shadowheart. What if the things she's made you forget ... are the things that prove she's not a one to give your entire life to? I want you to have a life, Shadowheart. You deserve that.

Shadowheart: There's ... less advocating for yourself here than I expected. Or maybe hoped for.

Alisaie: Hey. Look. I said I was going at your pace; I meant it. If you love me, like me as a friend, or never want to see me again, I still wish you an actual life, not an empty time in service of death.

Shadowheart: ............... *yeets spear into the void*

Aylin: Good for you. Don't worry; you won't lose any of your powers. Selune's got your back. Now, I'll tell you what I know after we kick Thorm's ass. *becomes Angelic Winged-Glory Paladin; hauls ass away*

Shadowheart: So ... okay ... I've been literally excommunicated. By the actual god herself. But ... look, I've devoted everything to Lady Shar and you've been right there, and from the beginning of all this you've been more there for me than my faith has. I didn't want to commit to anything because I already had my fanaticism thing going on and I didn't want to distract from that... But you said you wanted me to have a life. Could ... it maybe be with you?

Alisaie: I promised, didn't I? At your pace. I won't say I've been waiting. I will say that I've been at your side, and I will be for as long as you let me be, and my hand's right here, whenever you want to take it. So yeah, I think it could.

Gale and Wyll: *burst into applause, scattering popcorn all over the Shadowfell*

Wyll: Fucking finally!

Gale: Now kiss!

Alisaie: OUT OF THE SHADOWFELL AND INTO THE KICKING OF THORM-ASS BEFORE I YEET YOUR ASSES INTO THE VOID!

Shadowheart: Not two minutes ago I thought I'd never smile again and now I'm laughing, a bit. You are full of surprises.

[hasquetzorkukudoneanythingwrong]

Days 692-693

Rex: hello everyone and welcome to the new show we're doing called Void Monsters! Where we explore the deepest parts of the Void Sea and discover all the deadliest creatures it has.

Nota: is this a parody of River monsters with Jeremy Wade or Sea Monsters with Nigel Marven?

Rex: shush. Anyways, today we'll be exploring the abyss and see what it has to offer!

Nota: a lot we can't see, huh?

Rex: well that's not good. But we do have a way to clear the way! YEET THE NEET!

Quetz: are you ready, Okki!?

Osakabehime: AAAAAHHH! PLEASE NO MORE!

YEET!

Rex: and there we go! Now we can see what there is in this quadrant.

Nota: you say that, but the creatures themselves seem a bit hard to pick out.

Rex: of course. Well nothing we can't handle!

Quetz: AAAAAH! *bonk* *smack* *punch!*

Rex: thank you again, Mi amor!

Nota: seems she did too good a job, one of them is gone.

Rex: ah! Well nothing too worry about! Plenty of fish in the sea as they say!

Nota: -_- did you seriously have to?

Rex: yes. Yes I did.

[arthrobug]

Obviously, ✨Spoilers if you haven't/wanna watch✨

Cross sad cuz his universe X-Tale goes bye bye cuz of X-Gaster being a lil whiney perfectionist. In the death of his universe, Cross forces X-Chara into his soul cuz of X-Chara being really murdery,,,, I think,,,,

Ink finds Cross being sad in void, they be friends for a bit

Cross misunderstands Ink's abilities, and gets super sad again cuz the short squid can't being back his world

Error shows up and tries to absolutely annihilate Cross, Ink steps in after Cross' soul is taken by glitcho and gets himself hurt while Cross runs away like a Pokemon

Cross escapes to Classic Sans' world, and wants to vibe in Classic's world before he dies, but whoopsy Classic let his guard down and Cross/X-Chara stole half his soul so they won't die in five minutes

Cross' manic summons a lawyer, AKA Nightmare. Tentacle weirdo proceeds to manipulate and use Cross with his sadness

Cross steals parts of a couple worlds (Underfell and Underswap) with X-Chara's abilities/help to try to bring his world back, Cross kicks the crap outta Fell, and basically mind controls him

But Ink and Classic show up, Classic slowly breaks the control Cross has over Fell, and Classic retreats, having already stolen basically the entirety of Underfell Snowdin

Some time later, while hiding in (I think) a stolen Underfell house and being utterly exhausted, X-Chara tries to sister snatch the body when Cross falls asleep, but the absolute madman Cross stabs himself in the eye with a bone to knock out X-Chara

Nightmare threatens Cross, brings him to Underswap, and Cross goes: Wow this place REALLY feels like home... That's uncomfy

Swap teams up with Ink, Classic, and Fell to take out Cross, and they successfully do, and Classic gets his full soul back, but AH SHOOT HERE WE GO AGAIN X-Chara takes a h u g e chunk out of Underswap Chara's soul, getting the OVERWRITE ability back cuz damn humans

[X-Chara stuff for a hot tick]

X-Chara tortures Swap Sans, Papyrus, and Chara by altering their realities (really messed up watching gunna to be honest ahfosnfosk) yada yada yada, that's X-Chara NOT THE BOI

Uhhh, I think Nightmare lethally stabs Swap Chara when X-Chara tries to bargain with Classic about fighting Ink, uhhh, Error realizes Cross is basically making a new AU, and declares war on Ink for breaking their 'no creation, no destruction' truce, w h o o p s

X-Chara gets Killer as a babysitter

Nightmare, X-Chara, and Killer go to Outertale and after failing to make X-Chara absorb some monster's soul, Killer makes Outer extinct (shippers gone wild)

✨Enter Inking Mistake the VERY popular Underverse fight between Ink and Error✨, after their fight, Ink releases X-Gaster and in response Error absolutely annihilates a part of the Multiverse, W H O O P S !

X-Gaster has Ink yeet Error into his Anti-Void, and Ink then steals the last half of his soul from X-Chara/Cross... Oh yeah they somehow got part of X-Gaster's soul,,,, I don't remember how

But cuz of that soul steal, X-Chara/Cross dies (wait what), and X-Gaster murderlizes Swap and Fell

X-Gaster sends good ol' Classic Sans back to his home, and eventually brings all the X-Tale characters back from the dead, including X-Chara and Cross, now as separate entities nice job dying Oreo Boy

Cross is given the decision to join X-Gaster or 'join later', Cross decides to yeet himself out of there

Okay that's Season One Cross Lore and some other stuff I've been typing for a HOT tick so if ya want me to I can try to type out Season Two as well have a nice day/night if that made no sense sorry I guess-

But in very light summary: Cross has a very bad Bi Panic

GUYS

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THE UNDERVERSE LORE

I LOVE ART AND COMICS OF CROSS BUT I DON'T EVEN TRULY KNOW WHO HE IS

I DON'T HAVE ENOUGH FREE TIME TO WATCH THE SERIES AS MUCH AS I WANT TO

PLEASE

[vannahfanfics]

Me, applying to like five zines in the last two days because that's just the kind of thing I do to myself: Man, I wish there was a LawNa zine.

[recordmcqueen]

I got nice solid sleep last night whenever i woke up i fell back asleep quickly probs from exhaustion but my mind didnt even try and plague me with depressing thoughts so uhhh

Why did i wake up feeling utterly drained??

[voidindite]

me: *already has two multi-chapter fics to work on for two different fandoms*

my procrastination: ... 👀 ???

me: no. work on Actual Projects. Bad

my procrastination, chanting: Tango Angst! Tango Angst! :D

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

[redorich]

For the canyon au, what would happen if one of the hermits got hurt during a scout? Like, if etho is out scouting, something happens, and he’s unable to message the hermits or get help. Would he be willing to be seen? Would any smpers besides Puffy help him?

Zedaph didn't mean to leave the canyon, honest! He was just looking for a sheep of his own for a completely ethical experiment involving pistons and a perfectly reasonable quantity of peanut butter, thank you very much. He wasn’t about to steal a sheep from someone else’s farm, and for some reason sheep don’t tend to spawn at bedrock level. So really, he had no choice!

Zedaph is rethinking a lot of his decisions. He’s also wondering if he left the jump-powered stove on. Then he remembers that it’s jump-powered, and as he is not currently jumping on it, it is most likely unpowered. Unfortunately, it seems as though Zedaph is going to be eating a lot of cold food for a while if he makes it out of this alive, because he’s not going to be jumping on anything with a broken leg.

Despite his punishment for trying to take a cross-section of something that he now knows is probably sentient (oops), he can’t help but want to go back, to learn more. What is the rate of growth of those red vines? Are they all from the same plant? Are they actually sentient, or is the crimson kudzu in possession of an automatic response to attempted harm? Did the vine know it was hitting him off a ledge which would break his leg, or did it just know “whack human away from vine”? Would the vines taste good in soup? Are they flammable? Could Zedaph theoretically knit a fashionable sweater out of them, and if so would the sweater be capable of independent movement?

He is torn from his musings of a wriggly evil sweater by another thrum of pain. He hisses. There’s... more blood than is advisable. Outside of his leg, that is. Inside his leg is likely less than the advisable amount of blood, and come to think of it, his head’s probably a bit empty as well, seeing as how he’s having so much trouble thinking straight-- well, straight for him. His jumps in logic are incomprehensible to most on a good day, but right now even he can’t follow his own thought process. What was he thinking about again?

Ah yes. The overwhelming pain from being yeeted off a ledge. Come to think of it, the ledge he fell off-- the one he’s sitting leaned against-- is shaped awfully unusually. It must be manmade. Whoever made this is not a good terraformer. Zedaph should bake Scar some cookies. Is Scar allergic to peanuts? Ow. Ow. Ow. Zedaph will need to borrow Impulse’s oven-- or he could set up his own oven with an armor stand that jumps for him?

“Hey there, who are you?” says a female voice. Zedaph looks up. He doesn’t have to look very far up.

Standing in front of him is a woman with a cool pirate-looking coat (red, of course; all self-respecting pirates wear red), with long fluffy hair like white wool and rainbow fringe! Oh, and she’s, like, half sheep or something. That’s cool too.

Wait. There’s something about sheep he’s forgetting... How could he have been so stupid?! He came to the surface in the first place in search of a sheep, and now he’s (kind of) found one!

The cool pirate lady says something, but Zedaph-- well, he does hear it, but it doesn’t process. Words are just mouth-sounds. He is in pain.

“Found a sheep,” he mumbles, “Come back to the canyon?”

“You’re hurt, man,” the sheep-pirate-lady says. She has pretty rainbow hair, and the white parts look like clouds.

She laughs. “Thanks.”

Clearly, this woman is a mind-reader! As well as a sheep. Really, two for the price of one. Zedaph isn’t quite sure what to do with a mind-reader, but his head will be much clearer and therefore able to dream up wacky hypotheses once he respawns--

He gasps, jerking forward and choking on his own breath when he remembers the cold truth. Xisuma won’t be able to respawn him, not for several days. Zedaph doesn’t want to spend that long in the void.

“Woah!” the woman exclaims, rushing to steady him. “You look pretty bad, dude. Let’s get you home or something. Where do you live?”

“Canyon,” Zedaph rasps. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, I don’t think. Can’t remember why.”

The nice woman goes very still. “Hey. My name’s Puffy. I’m gonna take you to the canyon. Do you think you can stand if I help you?”

“Puffy..?” Zedaph squints off into the middle distance, trying to remember something. “She’s the person who keeps coming back to that barrel, isn’t she?”

Puffy pulls Zedaph’s arm over her shoulder and gently pulls him up to his feet. “She is,” Puffy says softly.

“I hope she liked the enchanted diamond shears,” he mumbles.

“She did,” Puffy says softly. “She didn’t even know diamond shears were a thing.”

“I was going to make an emerald flint and steel,” Zedaph rambles, “but it turns out that items made of flint and steel aren’t conducive to being made of not-flint and not-steel."

"Who would have thought?" Puffy laughs, then trips over a vine. Zedaph makes a pained noise at the jostle to his leg, which is dragging a bit on the ground because Puffy is so much shorter than him. She notices this, and rethinks her strategy.

"At this rate, we'll never get back to the canyon," she gripes. "Climb on my back instead, I'll carry you."

Zedaph obliges, but warns, "Tango says I'm heavy.”

“I’m stronger than Tango, I’ll bet.”

The Hermit is actually a bit heavy, but this is a matter of pride now. And also, quite possibly a matter of urgency. The Hermit isn’t responding anymore. He’s still holding on, so he isn’t dead or completely unconscious; still, he’s not in a good state.

As soon as the elevator down to the bottom of the canyon comes into view, Puffy books it. Surely, in the canyon base, the Hermit will have healing potions? He (They? Multiple Hermits?) gave her a whole beacon, so obviously he/they are late-game enough to have plenty of potions.

Stepping into the elevator, Puffy presses the button, then puts her hand on the Hermit’s neck. It’s a bit of an awkward position, since his chin is hanging over her shoulder, but it makes her feel better to have a hand on his pulse. He makes a pitiful noise as the elevator descends.

“Easy there,” Puffy says, “you’re almost home.”

The moment the doors open, she ventures out into the village. The only safe place she knows is the barrel where she leaves her items for the Hermit(s), so she takes him there. Now that she’s looking, she spots shadows, eyes, movements, throughout the supposedly empty village. One such person comes out of the woodwork, sprinting.

“Zedaph!” exclaims a tall, musclebound man. His face is twisted in naked worry as he meets Puffy at the barrel, which she sets Zedaph down on.

The large man, who wears a black shirt with a creeper face on it (does that mean something, Puffy wonders?) scrutinizes the blond man on the barrel for a moment before springing into action, splashing potions and bits of lapis and-- holy shit, is that a Totem of Undying?! When the blond man, Zedaph, seems to come back to himself enough that he could reasonably eat a golden carrot with minimal choking hazard, the new man hands him one. Finally, he turns to Puffy.

“Thank you,” he says. The relief in his voice is tangible.

Puffy shifts awkwardly. “I was just doing the right thing. I noticed, uh, his bracelet.”

They both look to Zedaph’s wrist. It’s got a woven bracelet on it. The textile isn’t astounding, but the pattern on it is intricate. Puffy would know, she made it herself as a gift for the Hermit. As Puffy and the other Hermit look at each other, she realizes that he is also wearing something she made: a pair of fingerless gloves which are now stained with redstone dust.

He catches her staring. “We all have one-- oh, uh, my name’s Impulse, and this is Zedaph--”

“Impulse,” a new blond man hisses from behind the two. Puffy jumps. She didn’t hear him coming.

“Tango!” Impulse greets, suddenly nervous. Why a man as big as Impulse would be nervous when facing anyone, let alone a normal-looking guy like Tango, is beyond Puffy. Maybe Tango’s red eyes have some sort of significance?

“Impulse,” Tango repeats, looking around for anyone that isn’t a Hermit. “You’re not invisible.”

Impulse’s eyebrows draw together in a frown. “I had to see Zedaph.”

“Yeahhh,” Zedaph slurs.

“Besides, if we can trust any of the natives, it’s Puffy,” Impulse insists. He crosses his arms in what should be an intimidating display, but truthfully looks more like a pout.

“You know what Xisuma said,” Tango says. “I’m grateful to have Zedaph back, but...”

“Xisuma would agree with me,” Impulse says stubbornly.

Tango sighs explosively, full of nerves. “Alright, fine, can we at least get out of sight? Anyone could come wandering across the surface and spot us.”

“How many of you are there?” Puffy breathes. Everyone’s eyes snap to her.

“Twenty-four,” Zedaph says happily.

“Zedaph!” Tango admonishes.

Rolling his eyes, Impulse scoops Zedaph up off the barrel like he weighs nothing. He carries the dazed blond man down the path and into a cottage-style house. As Tango goes to follow, he catches Puffy’s eye.

“Sorry,” he says, “nothing personal. Just trying to avoid being explodificated, which means not being seen by the people who live on this server. You get it, yeah?”

He jogs off to catch up with Impulse, and Puffy hurriedly follows. Tango’s got a bracelet like Zedaph’s, but it’s one of the ones Puffy made out of different shades of red. She wonders if all the Hermits wear something she made.

The inside of the house is a bit cramped, but it’ll do. It’s got a bed, at least, so Zedaph’s got somewhere to keep his leg off the ground. This all feels surreal.

“So, uh...” Puffy says into the stuffy silence of the room. “How about that, uh, bedrock?”

Nobody has anything to say to that. Fuck.

Out of nowhere, yet another Hermit shows up. There’s a trapdoor in the wall that, now that she looks at it, Puffy realizes that Tango was hiding intentionally. That’s all gone to shit, though, because a man with white hair and a mask over his face peeks his head out from the hole in the wall.

“Hey guys, what--” The man takes a look around, spots Puffy, and freezes. “...On second thought, I’ll come back later.”

“Wait!” Impulse says to the man. “Get Xisuma, or at least tell him Puffy’s here if he can’t make the trip right now.”

“Karl thinks you’re Mothman,” Puffy blurts out to the white-haired man.

The man looks very self-satisfied for someone who’s only showing a quarter of his face. “Oh? Where does he live? For absolutely no reason, of course.”

“Etho...” Tango groans.

“Oh, alright, I’ll go get X.”

The man leaves. Oh boy, thinks Puffy, this is going to be interesting.

[jayswing101]

Jayswing101′s Guardian Bingo Masterlist

@guardianbingo​ card and badges made by @highlynerdy. Fest coordinators: @tehfanglyfish, highlynerdy, and @sasamelons.​ 

One Fill – Longevity Dial

N1- Fic: [3+1] Did It Hurt?: 3 times Shen Wei asks Zhao Yunlan if it hurt when he fell from heaven, and 1 time Zhao Yunlan asks Shen Wei.

One Line (Any Direction) – Mountain-River Awl (N1-N5)

N4- Fic: Ohkwarikó:wa: The stars are visible one summer night, and Kunlun asks Shen Wei to tell him about the Bear Stars. (Onekwà:tara 1/4)

N2- Fic: Teiothahó:ken: Zhao Yunlan learns about the Bear Stars, and finds out why Shen Wei seems to care about bears so much. (Onekwà:tara 2/4)

N3- Fic: Ken’niwahkwaritá:’a: Weilan happily ever fluff with a side of bears. That's it. That's the fic. (Onekwà:tara 4/4)

N5- Art: Zhao Yunlan as Kunlun on a motorcycle. 

Bonus Prompt (Five Bonus Fills) – Merit Brush

Tiger (February 2022)- Art: Cat Da Qing in a tiger costume

Birthday (April 2022)- Fic: Born to be Wild: Zhao Yunlan has no idea what to do for Shen Wei's birthday, so he asks Ye Zun for help. The result involves longer hair, old clothes, and a motorcycle.

Time Travel (May 2022)- Fic: All of these years you've been lonely: Ye Zun follows Zhao Yunlan and Shen Wei into the wormhole. It shows him what really happened on the cliff where gege abandoned him.

Dragon (June 2022)- Fic: Just A龙 For the Ride: A stranger with Shen Wei's face shows up at the SID, panics, accidentally sets off the hallows, and Zhao Yunlan gets yeeted 10,000 years to the distant past. He finds a tiny dragon that's not actually a dragon, somehow acquires a second dragon-that's-not-really-a-dragon, helps the stranger with Shen Wei's face deal with his trauma, finds some lost hallows, and then gets yeeted back to modern Haixing. It's... a lot, even for Zhao Yunlan. At least now he knows why Shen Wei and that not-Shen Wei kept calling him Kunlun.

Meeting Again (July 2022)- Fic: The ̶c̶a̶t̶ human came back: Da Qing is trying to have a nap when a curious human kitten starts petting him. Da Qing doesn't mind so much when he realises who the kitten is, or at least, who he will become.

Two Lines – Unlit Guardian Lantern (N1-N5 and I1-I5)

I3- Fic: The Best Laid Plans: Ye Zun introduces Shen Wei to the world of Tumblr in an attempt to scare him off the Internet. It doesn't work quite as planned, but it also works exactly as planned.

I5- Art: Illustrated gif of Shen Wei and Ye Zun with various “masks”

I2- Fic: Ctrl Alt Del (All your files):  Wang Zheng volunteers to teach Shen Wei and Ye Zun how to use modern technology. It's not as easy as she expected it would be.

I4- Art: Watercolour of Shen Wei and Ye Zun walking off into the void wormhole of possibilities at the end of ep 40

I1- Fic: The Noodle Incident vol 2: Sweet Ramen Disasters: Zhao Yunlan stood in the corner in front of the microwave, a broken plate and a charred lemon on the floor just in front of him. He looked startled, but also guilty, like a child who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have.

“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei said in the same tone he used for students he’d caught plagiarizing.

“Hi,” Zhao Yunlan answered.

Looking around the kitchen pointedly, Shen Wei calmly asked, “What are you doing?”

“Ah.” He scratches the back of his neck and ducks his head. “I, um, Imighthavesetalemononfire.”

Shen Wei blinks. Zhao Yunlan sighs, nudging the crispy lemon on the floor with the toe of his slipper.

“…I might have set a lemon on fire...” he mumbled.

O3- Art: Tiny dragon Shen Wei next to the Merit Brush for size comparison

Or, Zhao Yunlan is left unsupervised and attempts to cook again. It does not go well.

Card Blackout - Lit Guardian Lantern:

O4- Fic: Tsá:ta nihá:ti tehatinonniáhkhwa:  The power goes out, and Shen Wei tells his little family another star story by candlelight. (Onekwà:tara 3/4)

G5- Art: Watercolour of Shen Wei’s pendant of pining

G2- Fic: Episode 33: Shen Wei Needs a Cat: When Lao Zhao returns from Dixing with a defeated-looking Shen Wei, Da Qing knows just what he needs to feel better. Shen jiaoshou needs a cat. He needs a cat to purr at him, and head-butt him, and Da Qing, King of Cats, is the best cat for the job.

B2- Fic: Episode 37: Almost Goodbye: When they return to the SID, Lao Li is lying on the floor. Da Qing isn't ready to say goodbye, and he can't help but hope he can be saved somehow.

B1- Art: Mixed Media portrait set of Zhao Yulan. Matches Shen Wei's portrait in B3.

B3- Art: Mixed Media portrait set of Shen Wei. Matches Zhao Yunlan's portrait in B1.

G3- Art: screencap redraw of Shen Wei and Ye Zun holding hands from their reconciliation scene at the end of ep 40.

B4- Fic: by ghosts or gods: As Kunlun walks away from him, Wéi can't help himself. He's a ghost, it's in his nature to be selfish.

He calls out Kunlun's name. When Kunlun turns back to face him, Wéi steals his soul.

O2- Fic: Cereal, Crocs, and Colossal Mistakes: Shen Wei should've known not to trust Zhao Yunlan when he said he wanted to go grocery shopping with him. Alas. He wanted to spend more time with his beloved and didn't think to question it. Shen Wei has to take drastic measures to save his sanity, but now, Dixing's fashion sense (and Shen Wei's dignity) are under threat instead, and it's all his own fault! If only he'd told Zhao Yunlan to stay home...

(AKA, the long-awaited Cereal Crocs fic)

G4- Fic: Fear's Purpose: Shen Wei hates how much people fear Heipaoshi, but the fear keeps Dixingren safe.

O1- Fic/Translation: 如影随形: 有一天山神碰见小鬼王。从此，小鬼王追随和效山神，如影随形。/如影随形 (rúyǐngsuíxíng): One day, a mountain god finds a little ghost king. From then on, the little ghost king follows the mountain god, like he's the god's little shadow.

B5- Art: Watercolour painting of the four Hallows.

O5- Fic: Forbidden Suit: Zhao Yunlan wants to do something special for Shen Wei to celebrate the anniversary of their first meeting. Well, Zhao Yunlan's first meeting, Shen Wei's first meeting post-dirt nap. Ye Zun's suggestion works a little too well (Zhao Yunlan has no complaints, Shen Wei is just jealous other people also saw what he was wearing)

G1- fanARTifact (modified hanfu cosplay): recreation of modern Heipaoshi’s cloak.

[the-official-account]

Pent's Home for the Haunted and Ill:

Ramblings on my silly little found family AU, the fifth adopts everyone flavor. Archived from a discord infodump for your viewing pleasure.

PLEASE NOTE I AM 2 CHAPTERS FROM THE END OF BOOK ONE AND HAVE NOT READ HTN. NO UNWARNED SPOILERS IN REBLOGS PLEASE.

Though reblogs are very appreciated!

Part one: the Vibes in Vines

—1—

Jeannemary: IS THAT ALLOWED? IS THAT ALLOWED?

Harrow, pulling back from gideon: stop it

—2—

"Whats up, I'm Gideon and I never fucking learned how to read"

—3—

Jeannemary: we have 69 cents

Gideon: you know what that means

Isaac: not enough for chicken nuggets...

—4—

Naberius: yeets water bottle

Ianthe: deflects it

Nab: wha—

Iantha: I'm a genius, you idiot

—5—

Silas octakiseron: -_-.....

The whole game dressed up as silas: :DDDD

(Like that one image of the class dressed up as their art teacher that I can't find)

—6—

Protesalius:

Harrow: miss keisha....miss KEISHA...omfg she fucking dead

OR

Teacher:

Gideon: Mx.Teacha...Mx. TEACHAH.....omfg he fucking dead.

(Though this is everyone lives it wad too funny an opportunity to pass up)

—7—

Ianthe and Colum:

Corona: can I get a waffle? Can I PLEASE get a waffle?

Part two: The Premise

Gideon kinnie #6

Also this is just a rough idea rn but long-form fic titled "pents home for the haunted and the ill" where the fifth runs an small orphanage/hospital that the fourth and seventh were already in. They get the call for the lyctor challenge and they all go, and the fifth says "bruh, these are literally just big children, fuck this shit" and take everyone back to the fifth. Harrow names the place that while snarking about how she doesn't wanna be there and it catches on.

Aka the gang does a group therapy

Featuring arcs such as:

—1—

Gideon:

Jeannemary: yeah! yeah! yeah!

Gideon: I'm your older sister now

Jeannemary: YEAH! YEAH! YEAH!

—2—

Dulcinea: I received these lovely flowers in my bedside today and I'm not sure who put them there.

Everyone:

Palamedes:

Everyone: 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Dulcinea: 👀

Palamedes: ....

Dulcinea: coughcowardcough :t

Everyone:

Dulcinea, evilly: Well, was it you, Gideon?

Gideon: chokes

—3—

Harrowhark: I—

Everyone in unison: that's fucked up bro, you okay?

—4—

Abigail: YOU WILL LEARN HOW TO COOK IF I HAVE TO ANIMATE YOUR SKELETONS INSIDE OF YOU

Magnus: isn't she stunning when she gets like this?

—5—

Magnus: walks into the room

Everyone: you are my dad. You're my dad!

Harrow, very softly: boogie woogie woogie

—6—

Cam: I just don't understand why you don't talk to her

Dulcinea, walking by:

Palamedes: don't. Don't I will kill you—

Camilla: HEY DULCE?

Dulcinea: yes?

Camilla: Palamedes—

Palamedes: scREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Cam: ...

Cam: you done?

Cam: Palamedes and I were wondering if you still have that book you borrowed

Dulcinea: [on discord the cursed emoji below was here. The emotion in shocked and void]

—7—

Harrow: Pent told me I should learn something nOnNeCrOmAnTiC to take up my time.

Gideon: she has a point

Harrow: shut up. Anyways these are called tarot cards and as my cavalier it's your job to let me do a reading for you.

Gideon: you know I'm here cause either wanna be here, right? You don't have the pull the cav card if you wanna spend time toge—

Harrowhark: shut UP.....AHEM.

proceeds to draw the most romantic fucking spread ever. Harrow pales

Gideon: ah I don't like that look. And I really don't like that death card.

Harrow: ..........yes you have three days to live

Part three: House Dynamics

The second will be the lesbian aunts who visit on holidays.

The third twins spend a lot of time being mean to everyone and babs goes off to find other friends, sick of them. The twins eventually come around. Corona comes out a a non-necromancer.

The fourth are little gremlins trying really really hard to do shit they shouldn't do, like Rollerblade down hills or see how many skeletons can climb into a tree before it collapses.

The fifth are brought to tears when everyone makes them a card on parent's day. Harrow choreographs a little skeleton dance and everyone loves it.

The Sixth have Palamedes crush on dulcie, to Cams endless amusement. Cam and Gideon becomes flexing bros and jeannemary goes wild for it. Cam's just really sweet.

The seventh has Dulcies whole thing with Palamedes, which both annoys and amuses her, and an actually good bond with Protesalius, who adores her and dotes on her & is protective. Palamedes and Gideon consire into buying him sunglasses and yelling "THE PRO HAS ARRIVED" when he walks into rooms.

The eigth is pretty secluded, and everyone respects that. Silas is still prissy about morality but he's chilled out significantly with lower stakes. Colum leaves somewhere in the middle to just go do things adult men wanna do in the world, and Silas misses him a lot and spends some time just kinda hovering in rooms where people are. Abigail learns to braid his hair and deals with some slight germophobia very well. Silas isn't a bad dude and he deserves it. Gideon still hates his guts.

And the ninths has a griddlehark get together, Gideon being workout besties with cam and meme besties with palamedes and jeannemary's big sister. Harrow and Palamedes pick up a research project and make something horrifying and they're like ":DDDD" and everyone else is like " 👏👏😅😰" Harrow and Silas also hate eachother but they're the only two people who really like to work in silence in someone else's company (besides Abigail but she's busy) so they end up vibing but they never talk to eachother

Part Four: Other Assorted Bullshit

—1—

Camilla: Gideon, can I speak to you? Alone.

Harrow: anything you need to say to my cavalier you can also say to me.

Camilla: i— fine. Gideon, what did you do to Palamedes? He's been distant lately. Distracted.

Gideon: ??? Uhhh....I don't know, why are you asking me?

Camilla: because it's probably you.

Harrow: she has a point.

Harrow: Gideon you don't own any books

Gideon: yeah, fair. I ... let him onto my bookshelf, I guess?

...

Gideon: yes I do, I have the maga—OH.

Camilla: [on discord it was an image of this emotion, in which a man smoke and sighs on a balcony, looking worldweary.]

—2—

(Regarding: a general lack of Isaac)

—3—

When Isaac isn't committing crimes with jeannemary he is planning to commit crimes with jeannemary he's helping Abigail with her historical research, bugging Harrow about being the Gideon to his Jeannemary (Harrow can NOT handle that responsibility. She sends him to get her things in an attempt to be good at this accidentally teaches him a new skill.) And he loves loves loves to prank Palamedes. He accidentally gets Silas in a trap on time and shit hits the FAN.

Abigal: sits bold upright Magnus?

Magnuse: yes dear?

Abigail: my teen senses are tingling.

Magnus: oh....oh no.....

[they both stand and run]

Meanwhile...

Jeannemary: this is the worst idea you've ever had. And you know it's bad when even i'm not excited

Isaac: it'll be fine. Watch.

Ianthe: turns on the blow-dryer and gets a face full of flour

The tensest silence ever:

Ianthe: isaaaAAAAAAAAAAC YOU LITTLE WORTHLESS FUCK!

Isaac: oh shit.

Jeannemary: grabs him and starts running

Ianthe: I WILL MAKE YOUR INNARDS YOUR OUTARDS THE NEXT TIME I LAY EYES ON YOU. OH, COME HERE I KNOW YOU'RE—LET ME GO FIFTH! LET ME GO!

Coronabeth and babs: 🍿

—4—

Harrow: reading

Abigail: what are you reading? :)

Harrow: reads faster

Abigail: HARROWHARK

—5—

corona: ianthe hit me so I'm starting a petition to put her down benefits of signing this petition is I'd get hit way less. Babs, sign.

Naberius: what if I don't want to?

Narberius: Coronabeth hit me and Ianthe continues to have rancid vibes so I'm starting a petition to put them down—

Corona: hits him on the arm, do it!

Ianthe: look how she treats you, Babs. Don't sign, join me.

—6—

Gideon: you should go bed

Palamedes: I'm not leaving her.

Gideon: right...how's dulcinea?

Palamedes: not good, but asleep. She'll be okay, but...where's cam?

Gideon: doing this great thing called sleeping. I'm on my sixth support duty shift.

Palamedes: I....thank you.

Gideon: anytime.

—7—

Palamedes: what in all of the fucks are you playing?

Gideon: chess

Palamedes: that's not—sigh— Camilla. Explain?

Cannot, casually: Gideon didn't want to learn the rules, so we play a modified version.

Palamedes: why are there poker chips?

Gideon: excuse you, those are the cavaliers. Once every blue moon they can make a necromancer so mad they explode bones.

Palamedes: that's not how any of this works.

Gideon: what do you know about necromancy? My pieces have power you couldn't comprehend.

Camilla, sing-song: and yet I'm still winning

Gideon: look—

—8—

Abigail: startles awake honey? What is all that noise?

Harrow, distanttly: AHHHHHHH, AHHHHH SCREEEEE AHHHHHHHHH I SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU WHILE I HAD THE CHANCE

Gideon: BUT CHA DIDN'T

Magnus, calmly and sleepilly: Harrow took your advice and asked Gideon to hold her accountable. No more late nights. I think it'll take some getting used to.

Abigail: giggles and gives him a lil smooch cause they're so cute and they deserve it

—9—

Isaac: Ianthe pass the salt, please. Literal salt I'm not asking for you

Ianthe: you motherfucker—

Magnus: no saying motherfucker at the dinner table

Coronabeth: but you just said it

Abigail: Magnus can reclaim the term

Everyone:

Abigail: ;>

Everyone: OH EWWWWW OH NO EWWW ABIIIII NOOOOO WHYYYY UGH

—10—

Jeannemary and isaac, caught red handed: oh hey guys...

Jeannemary and Isaac: bone sword. Bone sword. Bone sword. Bone sword.

Everyone:

[Pause]

Gideon: like....sword that gets boned....this i can get behind, haha YEESSSSSS bone SWORD!

Harrow: it wouldn't be very strong but with lyctor-like power behind it..... and the practical uses it could have for a skilled bone necromancer......moving to meet the opponents blades....yes, yesssss bone sword.

Dulcinea: bone sword?

Protesilaus: bone sword.

Palamedes: I have to agree.

Everyone: BONE SWORD. BONE SWORD. BONE SWORD.

camilla: I am the only sane person in this house.

—11—

Silas up at 3 am in the kitchen, a little teary cause colum is gone, hand in a jar of peanut butter:

Gideon: turns the lights on

Silas:

Gideon:

silas:

Gideon: this isn't....this isn't happening. That's not how this works uhm... Oh! I'm dreaming! Yeah okay cool yeah I'm gonna go cuddle with Harrow while I can haha yesss. bye, mayonnaise bastard. She leaves

Silas: every encounter with that primitive mind brings me farther from the light

Silas: keeps eating peanut butter

—12—

Isaac: Ninth, how much bone do you think it'd need to complete encase Jeannemary in a shell of it?

Harrow: distractedly as she reads. around one Jeannemary—sized skeleton. I could do it with a metacarpal. Why's that?

Isaac: HAHA NO REASON leaves

Harrow:

Harrow: hm, I should probably do something about that

Harrow: does not do something about that

Later

Isaac: i have something to present to all of you, since Jeannemary and I were not allowed to get matching skull tattoos during our last attempt—

Abigail: you can get them when you turn 18. This isn't a level you have to replay to beat, Isaac.

Isaac, louder: I have prepared a carved demonstration to show you how absolutely rad we'd look tatted up. Behold. he wheels a dolly in and pulls a sheet off of it.

Gideon: what is that? Some kind of calcium turd?

Jeannemary, from inside the shell: hi

Gideon, jumping: hOLY FUCK

Magnus, head in his hands:

Abigail: sigh, Narberius, get the chisel.

Naberius: why do I have to do it? Again?

Abigail: you're right. Coronabeth, get the chisel.

—12—

Dulcinea: starts snapping

Jeannemary, Nabrius, Gideon and Protesalius, emerging from the woodworks: also snapping, pick dulcinea up

Palamedes: wha—What? You said you wanted to see me????

Abigail, from behind him: 🎶 🎵 Who d'you think you're kidding

She's the earth and heaven to you

Try to keep it hidden,

Honey we can see right through you 🎶 🎵

Palamedes: I CAN'T THRIVE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD

—13—

Magnus: you asked to talk to me? What's on your mind kid.

Harrow, face going through a gazillion expressions at being called "kid": I'm having trouble with...things.

Magnus:...what things?

Harrow: trouble.

Magnus: .............yesss? And?

Harrow: trouble, um. Admitting things.

Magnus: things like what?

Harrow: that's the trouble.

Magnus, visibly loosing years off of his life: alright. We can work on that. What about...um...something small. Like 'Gideon is my friend's

Harrow: goes pale

Magnus: okay not that, then! How about 'I like bones'

Harrow: oh yes I do like bones.

Magnus: see! You're being open! How about 'I feel things'

Harrow:

Magnus:

Harrow:

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Pspspspsps can we get some comfort for the hurt of the Separation AU?

Okay this was way harder than I thought it was gonna be lol but I hope this is okay! I liked writing it a lot :)

...

  Impulse, Grian, and Etho tumble back into the mycelium resistance base, out of breath and dropping armfuls of shulker boxes filled to the brims with mycelium. They’ve lost most of their gear and tools but none of them particularly care. They just can’t stop laughing about the madness they just experienced. 

  “Oh my god,” Grian gasps out, hardly able to breathe through his laughter and physical exertion. “That ravager, man.”

  “I know! I couldn’t even move; it just kept going for me.” Impulse collapses on his back, letting his heart slowly settle back to normal. “Oh, boy… I’m not gonna be able to move much tomorrow.”   Etho leans back against the wall, the most composed of the three, though his grin is clearly visible even behind his mask. “At least we got most of the mycelium back. Now, who’s gonna put it all back into storage?”

  The three simultaneously turn to look at the pile of shulker boxes on the floor in front of them.

  “That’s a tomorrow problem,” Grian says dismissively. “I need a break right now.”

  “Anyone wanna grab some Moopop?” asks Etho with a grin.

  Grian shoves him playfully. “If I ever see another bottle of that stuff ever again, I’m yeeting it into the void immediately.”

  Impulse laughs along with his friends as they head out through the secret entrance to the base. They go their separate ways, and Impulse decides to go back to his base and have a nap after all the excitement from earlier.

  But as he’s heading to the portal under the town hall, he hears someone call his name. He turns. “Hey, Xisuma. No HEP uniform today?”

  Xisuma, back in his bee garb, shakes his head. “Not today. Um… do you have a second? I need to talk to you. It’s important.” 

  “You can’t prove I broke into the factory!” Impulse yelps immediately.

  The admin blinks. “What?”

  “Nothing!” Impulse clears his throat awkwardly. “Sorry, what did you want to say?”

  Xisuma hesitates. “Um… nevermind. It’s nothing.”

  “No, no. You said it was important.”

  The admin is starting to regret saying anything. Telling Impulse and Tango that Skizzleman’s world had been corrupted, likely killing their friend, was one of the worst things he has ever had to do. Impulse didn’t leave his base for five whole weeks after he received the news. Is it really fair to disrupt Impulse’s life so much once again, after he took so long to finally allow himself to move on?

  Finally, he makes his decision. Impulse has to know.

  “You know how admins can send and receive messages between servers?” he asks slowly.

  Impulse nods, wondering where his friend is going with this.

  “Well, Legacy season 2 recently started, and the admin of that server sent over some… ah… important information. That you should know.”

  “Me?” Impulse frowns. “Why me, specifically?”

  “Because…” Xisuma hesitates again. “Because one of the new Legates for this season is Skizzleman.”

  The name hits Impulse like a slap to the face. He stares at Xisuma, his ability to speak and breathe momentarily leaving him. 

  “My friend Logic rescued him from the corrupt remnants of the world you two used to live in,” Xisuma explains, preparing himself for the breakdown he feels sure is inevitable. “He didn’t say much about the state he found Skizzleman in but he did say he’s safe and healing in Legacy. Logical says he’s actually settling in quite well, though he still misses you. He’ll keep me updated on his progress as-.”

  “He’s alive?”

  Xisuma breaks off as the soft gasp escapes from his friend. He nods. “He’s alive.” 

  “Oh…!” Impulse takes a step back, his facial expression a mixture of shock and joy. “Oh, th-thank you…! I-I-I gotta tell Tango…! Thank you, X!”

  He gives Xisuma a quick hug, before turning and zooming off. 

  Xisuma watches him go. For the first time today, he smiles. 

  Impulse sprints halfway across the island and skids to a halt outside HEP headquarters, where he can see Tango in HEP uniform just inside. Tango catches sight of him and Impulse beckons wildly. 

  Frowning, Tango exits the building and approaches him. “What is it, Impulse?”

  Impulse knows they’re on opposite sides at the moment but he doesn’t care right now. “Tango, X just told me the Legacy people pulled Skizz out of the void. He’s alive, Tango. H-He’s alive and safe on Legacy.”

  Tango stares at him, his eyes slowly widening. “He’s… Skizz is alive…?” 

  After a moment, Impulse drops to his knees, starting to laugh quietly through the tears that flow from his eyes. “He’s… He’s okay.” 

  Tango kneels down in front of him and engulfs his best friend in a tight hug, all the animosity between them dissolving. They clutch each other like their lives depend on it, sharing their intense relief and joy that their friend was alive. It doesn’t matter that he’s on a server they will likely never be able to visit. 

  All that matters is Skizz’s alive. He’s safe.

  He’s okay.

[loversdelusion]

remember

uldren sov/the crow x reader

a/n: someone had to do it, so this is my first short story/one shot idk lol, I'll get the hang of it, pls be nice but also feel free to give me criticism but not too harsh, ya know? I want to get better but I also don't want to get made cry, sorry for any grammar mistakes

angst to cheesy fluff

"They call me the Crow"

You burst into your small room, which seemed even smaller at the moment, you slammed the door shut and hastily locked it. You turned, your back against the door as you slid down to your knees, your world just got yeeted upside down and back again, your emotions were scrambled.

Uldren, was alive, well- Crow as he said, when you specifically remember ending him yourself "How..?" You breathed, the memories you tried so hard to repress forcing themselves to the surface.

Ace was in your hand, Uldren was already doubled over on the ground from Petra shooting him, his gaze on you as he gave you the ultimatum of your life- kill him or let it go, each both had their own consequences, killing him and you did, would fulfill the vengeance for Cayde-6 and your love would be with you, but letting him go would've resulted in Petra hating you forever and a massive void of guilt in your conscious.

You killed him, your once romantic partner, and yet he stood right in front of you and Osiris, you both saw him with your own eyes, Uldren-..Crow, in new light flesh. Your heart raced, it raced so hard that your chest ached "Hey" Ghost appeared in a flash of blue "(Y/n), look at me" you could barely hear your little light's voice, your eyes felt and sounded like they were stuffed with cotton.

"I know it's a lot to take in..but maybe Spider will shed some light on this, he was bearing his symbol after all" Ghost said, the little robot hovering eye level with you "I can't do that..I can't face him, I can't.." You shook your head, Ghost's shell seemed to droop sadly as he gently rubbed the tip of his shell against your shoulder in a comforting way.

"I'm with you until the end, remember? I was with you when you wielded the darkness and I'll be with you when you face Uldren".

-

Your feet gently hit the ground as you arrived in Thieves' Landing, you dreaded facing the Spider and the black haired Awoken "Take your time, there's no rush and if you want, we can leave" Ghost reassured you, but you shook your head "I..I can do this" you stated, trying to convince yourself at the same time.

You stood at the entrance, eyeing the hallway that once seemed so long but now it was the opposite "You got this, (Y/n)" Ghost said in a gentle tone, you took your first steps inside, your feet felt like they weighed a ton but you kept going. You reached the final hall towards where Spider sat, you could see his large figure at the end, he didn't seem to notice you yet as he conversed with his associates "-Tell them I want that loot" his voice came into hearing range.

You mentally cursed as one of his associates noticed you standing halfways away from them, the Eliksni turned its head to Spider, Spider in turn finally found your form "Ah! Just who I expected to see!" he chuckled loudly "Do come in, (Y/n)!" He beckoned you over, his large figure leaned forward in his seat "I was wondering when you were going to show, little girl" he said in a teasing tone, you felt your eyebrows furrow together "I see you've met my little bird" he referred to Crow as his little bird, you frowned slightly.

"I found him, drifting aimlessly through the reef, looking all sad and alone so I took him in" Spider dramatically waved his hand in front of him "You have to admit even this is better than the fate that awaits him in the Last City, your poor little boyfriend" he sneered, you could hear the smirk in his loud voice. "You have him running around as your goony?" Ghost appeared beside you in brief flash of blue "Hello there, little morsel" you could see Spider basically foaming at the mouth over Ghost's appearance.

"So, you keep him around here, doing your dirty work because of what you say awaits him at the Tower?" Ghost ignored the way Spider seemed to hunger over him "He doesn't really have a choice" you rose a brow "What do you mean?" You spoke, Spider's attention averted back to you. "If he ever strays too far from the nest..boom" he said ominously, you felt every muscle in your body tense "I rigged his Ghost with an explosive that could very easily take them both out" your eyes widened, anger and shock flaring within you "You keep him here like a caged animal..?!" Spider scoffed "More like a caged bird".

"I assume you didn't come to converse with me, did you now, girlie?" Spider said in a low voice, you dreaded what came next "Crow!" Spider said in a firm tone, you eyed the open door to your right, you could hear very faint footsteps coming out "You wanted this, now you can have it" Spider chuckled lowly. You wanted to look away but your mind and body said no, Crow stood in the doorway, your chest constricted, your throat felt like something was lodged inside it, your heart seemed to skip two whole beats "Yes?" Your hands formed tight fists at the sound of his voice, his voice sounded a lot softer and quieter, a huge difference compared to the brash and arrogant tone it used to have "I'd like you to meet someone" Spider gestured to you.

"Oh, hello, we met on the Moon" Crow stared straight into your soul "Well, not officially..you ran away before I could ask your name, which isn't really new to me" you wanted to slap yourself, Spider laughed "My apologies if she seems quiet, little bird, she's very shy" Nope, you wanted to slap Spider instead, but that seemed to shove a whole sentence out of your mouth. "My name is (Y/n) (L/n)..I'm a Guardian of the Last City" You could see Crow's brows knit together for a few seconds in confusion, but his expression changed immediately "I'm glad to be in the presence of another lightbearer" he said in a warm tone. You were trying so hard not to throw your helmet off, jump into his arms and kiss him all over "How about you two, go on a little receive and deliver task for me, hm?" You looked to Spider with a glare in your eye "Alright, if..that's okay with you?" This man, still as thoughtful as ever, you hesitantly nodded.

-

You and Crow walked beside each other in an almost awkward silence, for you anyway "I'm sorry if you noticed my reaction to your name..I just- I just felt like I've heard that before, but I guess that wouldn't make sense because there could be so many other people with the same name but I don't know..yours felt strange to hear" your heart clenched in pain, wanting nothing more than to tell him who you were to him "Guess I just have one of those names" you said in a low voice, almost a whisper "Yeah, I suppose so".

"Do you remember anything about your past life?" Crow asked after a little while of more walking, you glanced at him "A little bit, I think..just my name at least" Crow huffed "You're lucky then, because I can't remember a thing..which is probably good, I guess, what with the way people look at me and treat me, I'm not so sure I want to know who I was at all" Crow seemed to laugh almost sadly.

"It's strange..being rebirthed as a Guardian not knowing who you are when everyone else seems to" you clutched your gun to your chest tighter as you sighed "I can't imagine what you had to go through but..I'm here for you" the words slipped passed your lips before you could process them, Crow smiled warmly at you, your heart leaped. "Thank you, (Y/n)..as am I, it's weird..I feel like I could tell you anything" your mouth opened slightly as if you were about to say something, Crow kept his gaze forward "I think this is it" you and the amnesiac Guardian approached a pile of random cargo, a device Crow was carrying was blinking rapidly "All of this?".

Your hand reached for a box, Crow happened to be reaching for the same one, his large hand covered yours instantly, you tensed as your eyes widened, it was quiet and Crow didn't pull away, neither did you, you glanced at him, but his hair was hiding his face from you, you looked down at your hands as you felt a slight pressure, he seemed to be slowly lacing his fingers with your own "Crow..?" You said, voice barely above a whisper, his hand then firmly held your own.

"Crow" you said again, slightly louder, Crow gasped, his hand and body moving away from yours, Crow held his head between his hands, his eyes tightly shut "Crow..?" Your voice came out in a worried tone, you approached him, you laid your hand on his shoulder and said his name, his eyes burst open and he looked up at you with tear welled amber eyes, he looked so frightened and your heart broke for him.

"Are you alright?" You gently covered his hands with your smaller ones, keeping his gaze on you, his mouth hung open slightly "Cro-" you barely had time to say his name as he lunged forward at you, wrapping his arms around your smaller frame, almost knocking you over- he was hugging you, a surprise but a welcome one, he pulled away after a few moments and stared down at you, your own gaze met his.

"I know why your name sounds so familiar.." He said with a smile on his face "Because it's you, my love.." You froze "You remember..?" You asked in a bewildered tone, Crow pressed his forehead against your helmet "Don't know how I could ever forget you, my forever love" you could feel the biggest smile you ever felt erupt on your lips as you threw yourself at him, Crow laughed and it was music to your ears, tears fell from your eyes as you held him there for what felt like forever but forever was welcome.

"I love you, Uldren.."

"I love you most, (Y/n)".

[tessiete]

HELLO. *Yeets at you with no expectations or pressure* The grass reached for the sky in uncoordinated brambles. Flowers sprouted in the voids, gasping in relief in the sun. If one was to lay within it, they would be completely hidden. "I thought I might find you here, little one."

OH HI! No, I’ve not completely forgotten about prompts, and yes, I will post at midnight again. 

I fear no gods.

Anyway, thank you @kyber-erso for letting me make this about my boy, the Korks, and his dumb grandpa.

ILU Your gorgeous prose is such inspiration!!! (It was the only part @lieutenantmittens praised :sunglasses:)

Let’s have a title....um...

TO FORGET OURSELVES

The grass reached for the sky in uncoordinated brambles. Flowers sprouted in the voids, gasping in relief of the sun. If one were to lie within it, they would be completely hidden. Qui-Gon Jinn, however, was a large man, and though he crawled forward on his belly, and twisted to lie on his back, his knees still arced above the grassline like ancient monuments on a foreign plain.

"I thought I might find you here, little one.”

Beside him, couched like a barah fawn in a nest of broken reeds, and soft needle greens, Korkie Kryze grumbled out a paltry welcome. He snapped the twig in his hands then launched the pieces into the air above him. They arced high, then fell out of sight, disappearing into the long grass surrounding them. 

“No one knows this place,” the boy countered. “It’s secret.”

“Ah,” Qui-Gon said, suitably chastened. “Do I need a chain code, or civil chit to stay?”

Korkie frowned. The dry litter crinkled beneath his head as he shifted to consider Qui-Gon with all the seriousness of a Mand’alor.

“No,” he decided. “Just a password.”

“Oh,” Qui-Gon said, nodding sagely. “What is it?”

“I can’t tell you,” Korkie sighed. He kicked his feet out straight, flinging a handful of needles into the sky to emphasise the impossibility of Qui-Gon’s request. “You have to guess. Otherwise it’s not very secure, is it?”

Staves - small brown and green slivers of yesterday’s sunlight - fell like confetti around them, pricking the skin of his cheeks and brow. He closed his eyes, as beside him, Korkie flinched away to shield himself.

Once recovered, Qui-Gon considered his options.

“What password shall I guess?” he asked.

“If you can’t guess it, then you don’t know it, and you can’t stay,” Korkie decreed.

“A fair judgement,” Qui-Gon said. “But I am so very old that perhaps I just forgot it. Would you be kind to an ancient, aged fossil such as myself, and give me a clue?”

Korkie sighed again, loud enough that he nearly gave it voice, just to be certain that Qui-Gon was quite aware of the inconvenience of his request. Still, he relents, and he cupped his hand to Qui-Gon’s ear to breathe the secret between them.

“Oh, I see,” the Jedi said. He opened his mouth, and exhaled, the confidential code a near corporeal thing in the world before Korkie slapped his hand across his mouth, preventing the sound from escaping.

“You can’t say it out loud,” he cried. “You have to whisper it to me. Otherwise anyone might hear it.”

So Qui-Gon held his own hand to the boy’s much smaller ear, and murmured the password back.

“Okay,” Korkie said, satisfied. “You can stay.”

“Thank you,” the master replied. 

For a while, they lay in silence, staring up at the wide expanse of sky above them. The firmament above was a bright blue, but to those two votaries it appeared bruised, and dark as the heavy dome of Sundari arched high to dim the effulgent rays so that mortals, too, might bask in them.

Between them, there was perfect accord, both content to rest in the company of the other. There was a meditative peace in the sound of grass, and in the touch of the sun. But, at four, Korkie had little patience for the beauties of the world. Instead, he was much preoccupied by his own troubled thoughts, and unlike the heavy evergreen needles, they refused to settle softly beneath his head.

“It isn’t fair,” he houghed, another twig straining to reach the escape velocity of their orbit.

“That is true about many things,” Qui-Gon agreed. He reached his hand to the earth beside him, digging until the litter gave way to fine silt. It ran over his fingers like silk, weighed down by the oils of his skin, and left a dusting over his palms. “What, in particular, are you most troubled by, my boy?”

Korkie sighed again. His sighs contained whole systems within the bounds of their expulsions. He rolled to his side, facing Qui-Gon, curling his legs, and tucking his hands beneath his head. His entire aspect was bent toward the consideration of his most serious complaint.

“It isn’t fair that Bebu must leave again when you only just got here.”

Qui-Gon rolled to face him, equally considerate.

“Well, that’s not entirely true, is it?” he asked. “After all, your father and I have been here for nearly four months. Since before your mid-break. And we shall not be leaving until after Holyhod Day. That is quite a long time, don’t you think?”

“If I were in school the whole time,” Korkie agreed. “But break doesn’t count. And plus, I was in school for some of it, so I didn’t get to see you as much.”

“Your buir saw you every day, Kiorkicek,” Qui-Gon said, quite firmly. There would be no slighting of his own evergreen, and erstwhile padawan by anyone.

Korkie felt the justice of Qui-Gon’s correction, and thrust his lower lip forward in tremulous defiance.

“I said, not as much.”

“So you did,” agreed Qui-Gon, quick to acknowledge his own fault. “Forgive me. Go on.”

“I am only saying,” continued Korkie, “That it isn’t fair that Bebu is going so soon, and taking you with him.”

“As I am the elder, perhaps it is I who is taking him.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Korkie said.

“No, I suppose not,” Qui-Gon said. It was his turn to sigh, as he rolled to his back once more, and stared up at the sky, watching it ripple behind the glossy dome, like light over water. “Do you know, when your father was little he used to lie in the grasses at the Temple, just like this, and look up at the vaulted claricrystalline of the Coruscant day?”

“Bebu did? Like me?”

“He did.”

Korkie screwed up his mouth, riddled with scepticism. “No, he didn’t,” he said. “This place is much too dirty for Bebu. He always tells Belli that I look ‘a wild creature unfit for civil tables’ when I come back like this.”

“And what does your mother say to that?”

“She says she loves wild and untamed things the best. And Bebu always laughs, and -” he added, leaning near to confess - “he never gets actually mad when I get mud on his trousers or his tunics. He just pretends.”

“Well, I tell you quite truly,” Qui-Gon murmured back. Korkie’s eyes were brightened with expectation. “When your father was not much older than you are now, he used to hide in the grass in the Room of a Thousand Fountains and look at the sky.”

“Really?”

“Really, really,” Qui-Gon vowed. “And I can recall several instances where he found himself covered in muck up to his ears!”

“You’re tricking me,” Korkie said.

“I am not,” Qui-Gon denied. “On one occasion, he dropped your mother into a great puddle of mud, and she was covered, too!”

“And then what?”

“What do you think,” Qui-Gon said, his eyes glinting with mirth. “He reached in to help her out, and then -”

“Then?”

“Then she pulled him in after her!”

At this, Korkie burst into a riot of laughter, so bright and clear as to startle a flock of dozing echo’lanaar from the trees. 

“Bebu was covered in mud!” he shouted, alive with joy. “And Belli, too! They must have looked so silly!”

Qui-Gon grinned. “They did,” he swore. “Quite silly. Much sillier than you look when you go home covered in needle greens or clay. And do you know what else?”

“What?” Korkie asked, falling silent and reverent again, caught in the grip of Qui-Gon’s voice.

“Every time we left the Temple he missed his home, and his friends, too. Just like you miss him when he’s gone.”

“It’s different,” Korkie said, feeling slightly betrayed by the way Qui-Gon has turned back to beckon his troubles join them in this den. “Because he left his friends. His friends didn’t leave him.”

“What is the difference, Kiorkicek, if everyone is still parted?”

And that is something he had not thought. 

Korkie frowned, trying to puzzle it out, but Qui-Gon spared him the struggle because the lesson to be learned was difficult enough for a master, fully grown, never mind a boy hardly older than a few revolutions of the earth.

“Don’t you think that your Bebu misses you?” he asked. “Don’t you think he’s sad when you’re not there?”

“Maybe,” Korkie conceded. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” Qui-Gon said. “And I can promise you that when you are here, and he is there, he always wishes you close.”

“I don’t think so,” Korkie said. “Because if that were true, then he wouldn’t leave at all. He’d always be here, and he wouldn’t care about there.”

“But he has many duties and responsibilities to do there,” Qui-Gon countered, his voice soft as the brambles below. “You know he saves lives. You know he frees people. You know he changes whole wide worlds, Kiorkicek. And he can’t do that from here.”

Korkie breathed deep, and exhaled. Needles scattered. The curving back of a tiny strill appeared in the dirt beneath his finger, gaining a wide jaw and a long tail as Qui-Gon watched, and Korkie thought about things.

“Are you sure he misses me?” he asked, at last.

“I am certain,” Qui-Gon said.

“How do you know?”

He looked at Qui-Gon then with such belief, such faith, and all at once, the Jedi saw another little boy who’d looked at him much the same for years, who also hid in brambles when upset, who also longed for the reassurance of desire, and he knew that this time, he would not hold back.

“I know,” he said, his voice solemn, and his gaze steady, “Because when your father is here, and I am there, I miss him just as much.”

[master-sass-blast]

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season. 

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

 ***

 You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

 ***

 “Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?” 

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

 ***

 “There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

 ***

 “Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.