#and i occasionally see this little falcon

[absideon-ephemeral]

Dog Tags | Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes x (fem) reader

Summary: there is something about Bucky’s dog tags that drove both of you crazy.

A/N: SET AFTER THE SHOW THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER. I have a head cannon that Bucky ended up moving to Louisiana and buying a house close to Sarah.

Warnings: (hopefully) tooth rotting fluff, mild language, Reader described as having boobs, suggestive themes, illness, idk what I missed so read at your own advisory I guess.

There was something about them.

Those fucking dog tags.

He wore them every moment of every day: didn’t even take them off to shower or sleep.

They were just pieces of metal (although they had special value to him) so you couldn’t figure out why it drove you crazy whenever you caught a glimpse of them.

I was a good kind of crazy though. One that would make you go feral for him. You never voiced this to your beautiful lover, but he knew. Oh, he knew.

After finding out about your obsession from Sam a little birdie, he would make any excuse to show them off. In the shower, working out, cuddling? Bucky did it all. (His favorite was seeing them dangle and slap your face while he has you folded in half).

But his ultimate favorite ended up happening on a quiet Sunday morning. . .

———————————————————————

It was early. Early enough to just begin to hear the birds chirp and see the sun start to rise. Bucky unlocked your shared front door and crept inside as quietly as possible.

For the past week, he had been away on some diplomatic mission to tie up loose ends left from the Flagsmashers. His week was crammed full of press conferences, meetings, and the occasional man hunt for a left-over Smasher. And for the past week, his stress has been through the roof.

It all started when he had managed to forget his dogs tags on the bathroom counter the morning he left. For the rest of the week, an unsettling weightlessness sat on his chest and the absence of the familiar, cool metal was strange. The tags brought him comfort: it kept him grounded and reminded him of who he is. On rough days, they acted as a form of emotional support - reminding him that he is James Buchanan Barnes and not him. Without them, a strange hollowness followed him everywhere.

And to make matters worse, you ended up falling sick with something close to pneumonia the day after he left. He was helpless and couldn’t do anything more than call and pester Sarah to check on you.

So he felt empty and stressed, but now he was home and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you.

As quietly as possible, Bucky set down his bag and toed off his mud-crusted boots, making his way to the kitchen after. He tried (keyword, tried) to quietly recreate his mom’s famous chicken noodle soup for you, but it was a bit hard when his metal arm ‘clinked’ against the pot and bowl.

Once he was satisfied with the meal he prepared, he grabbed a glass of water and made his way to your shared bedroom.

Nudging the door open, he was greeted with the sight of your sleeping form sprawled out on the bed. Setting the soup and water on the bedside table, he sat on the edge of the bed to silently admire you.

There you lay, hair a messy halo on the pillow and small snores accompanying each breath. He took note that you were wearing his old red shirt with the words “can you give me a hand?” written across it (Sam had given it to him during a visit to Wakanda when he was an armless mess). But the thing he noticed most was the harsh rasp and rattle of your lungs with each breath. A frown fell upon his face as he decided wether or not to wake you up. On one hand, he wanted you to enjoy your, seemingly peaceful, sleep; but on the other, he knew that you needed to clear your lungs before you suffocated on mucus.

The thought of you not suffocating won over and he gently shook you awake. It took a couple shakes and the quiet repetition of your name to elicit a groan from you. From there, he began to gently coax you further into awareness.

“Come on doll, I’m finally home and want to see those pretty eyes. I need you to get up, hon.” He spoke softly.

Slowly but surely, your eyes opened and you had to blink a few times to clear them. Upon seeing the beautiful face of your lover you shot up, despite the protest of your sluggish body, and threw your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much.” Your voice was hoarse from coughing and sounded so frail.

“I missed you too, darling. I know you’re probably still tired, but how about we take a nice, warm shower together, hm? That way we can both be clean and we can loosen up that gunk in your lungs.”

You simply nodded, too tired and on the brink of falling asleep against him. He wrapped you up in his arms and carried out of bed and to the bathroom. Once inside, he set you down on the toilet and turned on the shower all the way to hot. He stripped himself bare, save for his boxers, and then began to help you.

Kneeling in front of you, he placed his hands on your waistband, a silent ask of permission. You lifted your hips just enough for him to slide your shorts off. The shirt came next. But it’s what was under it that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra, no, he was used to that.

But it was the fact that you were wearing his dog tags.

His dog tags.

The ones he left behind and had felt their absence all week.

Sitting so prettily between your breasts, shining and slick with condensation.

For a minute his brain short circuited - snapping into a daze as the bathroom began to fill with hot, thick steam. But it was your voice that brought him back.

“Bucky?” The small call was followed by a series of coughs that racked your whole body.

He immediately sprang into action, rubbing your back and pushing your damp hair away from your face. Reassuring words spilled out of his mouth like a poem; guiding you through it and reminding you to try and breathe. By the time the coughing subsided and you could breathe again, your chest hurt and your lungs were so tired. Bucky could see your exhaust and it pained him to see you so tired.

“Whats on your mind?” The question caught him off guard.

“Nothing hun. Just thinking about how pretty you look wearing my tags.”

A small grin broke out on your face, “you like when I wear ‘em?”

His eyes met yours. “Honey, I absolutely fucking love it.”

A raspy chuckle escaped you. “Good. Cause I want to wear them if that’s okay with you. Especially when you’re not here. It’s like I have you right beside me no matter what.”

Bucky smiled and stood up, stripping you and himself of the remaining clothes and guiding you off the toilet and to the shower. “Doll, you can wear them whenever you want. You can wear them forever if that’s what it takes to make you always feel safe and loved,” he stepped into the shower, allowing the warm water to hit him first, “but I will always be by your side. With or without those tags.”

A small smirk crept upon his face as you fully joined him in the shower.

“You don’t know the things you do to me wearing my tags. Actually, I want you to wear them every day. That way, everyone will know you’re mine.”

———————————————————————

And he kept true to his word. Everyday, he would place those tags around your neck, making sure they fell just right on your chest. More often than not it ended up with him bending you over the bathroom counter and watching in the mirror as his tags slapped against your tits. And he made sure you always had them when he was away as well. No longer had he felt anxious or empty without them for he knew that they were always beside your heart.

So, it’s safe to say, that his favorite way of seeing his dog tags, was on you.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐌

PAIRING: sebastian stan x f!reader

TAGS: set during quarantine, established relationship, age gap (if you squint, it's not directly mentioned), just fluff :)

A/N: yet another lost selencgraphy fic! wrote this during quarantine in attempt to lift my spirits :) happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: 912

masterlist || request box <3

You and Sebastian have been stuck in the tiny apartment that the two of you shared for what felt like forever. When the pandemic hit, he was still filming for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, so he had to finish it up. Somedays you would get the occasional FaceTime call at lunch and be "graced with the presence of Choclachino" as Mackie titled it. It wasn't how it normally was but it was fun while it lasted. 

Once they finished filming, he was stuck at home with you. Sure, the world was put to a pause but that didn't stop the two of you from having some fun of your own. "Y/N, I swear to god if you don't get your ass back here right now!"

Life with Sebastian never had a dull moment and being stuck with him during a pandemic just amplified your already chaotic energy. You two had tons of movie and game nights. But some days you would just lay in each other's arms and cuddle. Pranks became a common theme in the household and unfortunately for him, your pranks never failed. Today, you threw confetti all over him as he was about to get out of the shower.

His eyes grew wide as he stopped in shock and quickly met yours. "You're so going to pay for that," he muttered with a chuckle before he lunged towards you.

"Oh shit, OH SHIT!" you screeched as you avoided him. Quickly, you ran back out to the kitchen and devised a game plan. There was no way in hell you were letting him get his revenge. Eventually, he was going to catch you, and then you'd both be covered in confetti. So you snatched your phone, wallet, mask, and keys and ran out the door. You’ve been meaning to go grocery shopping anyways.

—

The groceries you needed were acquired, and it was finally time that you made your way back home. Hopefully after leaving him home by himself for a couple of hours let him cool off. You quietly used your key and opened the door. He was just sitting down on the couch, which Mackie was 100% correct about even if Seb denied it. It didn't look like he noticed you were back home. To make sure, you removed your shoes to make no noise. Tiptoeing to the couch, you looked over his shoulder to see what he was looking at. He was on his phone. He was looking at TikToks. "No fucking way," you thought.

Very quickly, you snuck your hand up and around his head and snatched the phone out of his hands. "What the fu-"

"Ah ah ah," you tutted, wagging your finger in his face with his phone in your other hand. "Is the Sebastian Stan looking at TikToks? Let's see what you've been looking at."

You scrolled a bit and noticed a common theme. They were all mostly memes of him and Mackie. You pulled one up and let it play. "I'll see you next time! Bye Sebastian! HuNgRy EyEs! OnE LoOk aT yOu aNd I cAn'T DiSgUiSe-"

He reached out over the couch to try and swipe his phone back. You quickly pulled it back out of his reach. "Y/N... Give me my phone back. Please..."

"Or what?"

Suddenly, he was jumping over the couch and you turned and started to run away again. Lucky for him, your apartment was incredibly small, and you had little place to run. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back into him. "Gotcha," he whispered, "I'd like my phone back now, please."

Even though you had no more options, you didn't give in. You continued to hold the phone close to your chest, a smirk settling on your face. "So that's how you wanna play it? Okay..."

He let you go. You thought you were free. You thought wrong. He quickly turned you around, picked you up, and threw you over his shoulder. "Seb, put me down!" you pleaded, laughing as he walked back to the living area.

Before you knew it, he threw you back onto the couch and started to tickle you. He knew you were extremely ticklish and unfortunately, he played to your weakness. "This is for earlier," he giggled while continuing to tickle your sides.

Soon enough, the tickling got to you and your grip on his phone loosened. He swiftly grabbed it back and stood back up. "Fine, fine you win," you let out, trying to catch your breath, "Why were you even looking at TikToks anyways?"

"First of all, Mackie sent these to me. Second of all, I'm teaching him how to use Instagram, but all the kids these days use TikTok so I'm uh..."

"Go on," you encouraged.

He sighed. "I'm trying to get with the program if you will."

Your boyfriend. Sebastian Stan. Gen Z's current internet crush was trying to get with the program. You tried to hold in your laughter and he could tell by the look on your face. "You better not laugh at me or I will tickle you even more."

You threw your hands up in surrender. "Hey! I'm glad you're trying, babe." You turned to head back to the kitchen to put the groceries you just bought away. As you walked away, you said back, "About time, old man!"

"What did you just say?"

"Nothing!"

"No, I think you just called me an old man!"

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Inspired by @melkors-defense-attorney and this post!

At Mairon’s heels the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth, as he willed it to, as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when, contemptuous, he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also-

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anyway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to master and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle, he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into fire-lit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving, gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and his, ours and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones whispering across his features and taste the lashing of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Vala and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first glimmer that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never even reflected on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed, as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his flame-spurred heels now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold-flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine – he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Vala, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I thought, a brimming in my chest, was what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most. 

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I thrilled with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, his sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze to me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Vala, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of wiles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even jeering derision, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. Around Mairon’s flaring hair and golden limbs curled the smoke grey of his armor, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed.

Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He had cocked his head like a bird and returned, sleek as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair flew like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain as I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly his hot-white fury came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like an inferno to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look upon a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[elemom]

What are your thoughts on Echo and Dr. Julien's relationship?

Hi anon. I sure hope you’re prepared for a yap sesh!

I have SO MUCH to say about them.

TL;DR: Echo is Julien’s son AND his deeply flawed creation. And that dynamic is Difficult.

We’ll start off with:

Dr. Julien’s Perspective

Ok so i think the most important thing to get outta the way is that i don’t think Julien is *evil,* but rather he occupies a “creator” dynamic with echo (and by extension, zane) i’ll explain more, hopefully

I personally think Julien created Echo out of desperation and loneliness. The first time he was lonely, back in the birchwood forest, he built zane, and that basically fixed his loneliness problem. After such a long time in the lighthouse, he was desperate for *anything* to help him in his isolation.

Thus, I don’t think he was in a clear mindset when he was creating echo. Fueled by grief and a little bit of hubris (*he created mechanical life for crying out loud, he should never have to be alone again when he can just infinitely create consciousness!*) he used zane’s blueprints to build a brand new nindroid.

As the process went on, i think he lost more of that clarity and ended up wanting this nindroid to be a new zane, something he would later be deeply ashamed of when he realized he basically just built a replacement son. Once echo is complete enough to be activated, I think he realizes just how bad of a hole he’d dug himself. He’s disappointed: not in Echo, in but himself. He tried to create a life in the image of someone else, and he couldn’t even do that right.

Which brings me to the “creator” dynamic. While Julien sees Echo as a son, he also sees him as his creation; he’s something to fix and perfect and fine tune. Echo is imperfect, and as a creator, Julien wants to fix those imperfections. He views Echo (and zane) as sons, but also as his creations, and that’s a *really* hard dynamic to balance.

(as an aside, I dont think echo or zane mind getting tune ups/upgrades/etc. I think a lot of the internal conflict julien has with echo is because he needs *so many* fixes that it’s hardly feasible to do, so he’s left dealing with echo’s imperfections and echo is left as kind of A Mess.)

Now all the stuff I mentioned above about the creator + creation dynamic is still there, but I don’t think it’s the MAIN thing going on. I really truly believe Julien was a good father to Echo despite their circumstances. Like, I think he made Gizmo as a buddy for Echo like he made the falcon for Zane, he made toys and stuff for him, played chess with him, etc. However, I think Julien’s disappointment with himself and his regret over creating a replacement for Zane occasionally comes through.

Which leads me to…

Echo’s Perspective

Echo is completely 100% trusting of Julien. That’s the big thing, I’d say. After all, it was Julien that gave him life, who cares for him and reassures him when he’s down. (And he’s also the only other person Echo knows.)

It’s this trust that leads to Echo’s…. Issues. See, Echo eventually comes to realize something’s up with how Julien sees him — or at least, how Julien seems to act when certain topics about his creation come up. Like I mentioned in his section, Julien can’t hide the disappointment/regret/etc he feels about creating echo — none of which are echo’s fault of course. But echo sees that he’s imperfect and that his father sometimes gets upset and he blames himself for that.

Echo knows Julien doesn’t hate him. He knows he’s trying his best and that he really does care. But he still wants to do everything in his power to make Julien happy. So he’s keenly aware of how he’s Not Zane and how he’s Not Perfect and how his father created him to Be Zane but didn’t do a great job at it. Julien always reassures him that he loves him, and it’s true! Julien *does* love him. But Echo feels like he could be doing better.

Depending on your interpretation and headcanons and AUs and all that, Echo can stay in this state of trust after s2 (waiting in the lighthouse for an eternity) or go in the complete opposite direction (Rejecting the idea of being Zane and becoming Mr E)

I might go into more detail about Mr Echo and how being found by the SoG impacted his view of Dr J. If you wanna see that, I’d be glad to infodump abt it on another post :3c

I also have some thoughts about Why echo got left behind in the lighthouse, but i dont think any of them were out of malice on Julien’s part. Some are worse than others, but I think he wanted to go back Eventually.

Maybe he died shortly after s2 and didn’t have the time to go back. Maybe Echo had shut down due to malfunctions and Julien didn’t know he was alive (Gizmo would have repaired him before the events of s6). Or maybe Julien was procrastinating, because he would have to admit to zane that he tried to replace him. Or maybe he just forgor 💀

ANYWAY thanks so much for asking!!! If you or anybody else ever wants to hear any more hcs feel free to send me asks about them. Because I have a LOT to say. I have put enough mental energy into thinking about the jfam that i could probably power Los Angeles for a month.

(disclaimer, many of these HCs come from melting together a bunch of ideas from fanart and fics and HC posts on tumblr, so a lot of these thoughts aren’t original.)

[kimbapisnotsushi]

here have a medley of miscellaneous timeskip pro team headcanons bc WOW i haven't posted in a while and this is my only stress outlet other than binging new series <3333

starting off strong with ejp raijin LET'S GOOOOOO

washio 🫱🏼��🫲🏼suna 🫱🏼‍🫲🏼komori: being EXHAUSTED from carrying the pro team world on their backs

no no i'm kidding. mostly

they keep a tally of other pro team matches in which their former teammates go up against each other and are REALLY smug if their respective teammate wins. which means you get shit like this

komori, cheerfully: "so how about that hornets v falcons game last night, huh?" suna: "oh shut UP tell iizuna tsukasa that aran-san could kick his ass any day of the week you little SHIT - "

they ARE united on the jackals front tho. all three of them want the adlers to go down HARD.

is suna nursing a grudge against ushijima from high school? yeah. is he ever going to get over it? probably not.

only komori feels bad bc he is fond of kageyama, but, hey, family's family

they ask washio why he hates the adlers and he looks them dead in the eyes and goes "hoshiumi kourai . . . he is a man that requires constant vigilance"

actually wait i know we all saw everyone watching and talking about the game (which makes me wanna cry SO bad) but god. how fucking funny would it be if players from monster gen convinced everyone else on their very professional and very mature teams to take sides

ejp raijin captain, who's been friends with hirugami fukurou for like ten years: "okay so explain to me again why we need to blow our entire team budget on jackals merch when we're not even going to the goddamn game?" komori: "well, it started on a cloudy but beautifully crisp spring day in 2012 - "

SPEAKING OF TACHIBANA RED FALCONS

hakuba joins the team, sees aran, and IMMEDIATELY starts texting the old kamomedai group chat

altho tbh i don't think there's no way that the "who-from-where-made-WHAT-pro-team" news never breaches the high school circuit. like come ON you know everyone's keeping up with the third year stars when they graduate

by the time the first years are third years they've got everyone pinned down on a fucking MAP. they have a shared file where they update each other on EVERYTHING. it's way less creepy than it sounds they're just a really passionate bunch okay!!!!

well that AND they can't help but brag about their amazing upperclassmen

okay sorry back to it. so it really goes more like

hakuba: "HOLY SHIT OJIRO ARAN FROM INARIZAKI IS HERE" suwa: "hakuba, we already knew that. i linked the article when it first dropped, remember?" hakuba: "yeah but it's still so WEIRD like it's OJIRO ARAN from INARIZAKI" hoshiumi: "lol atsumu told me he talks in his sleep, go find out if it's true"

aran actually does recognize hakuba mostly because gin paid him a compliment ONE (1) time and then aran had to listen to atsumu complain incessantly about the "stupid wall of muscle with stupid hair and his stupid height and stupid arms" ever since

ALSO. i think people get hakuba and hyakuzawa mixed up a lot. they've both got a similar height and build and hairstyle and play the same position

(not to mention the similar backstories)

it becomes a running joke throughout the pro leagues and makes for a fun time with falcons v warriors matches

in the event of a hyakuhina hookup (which i feel like actually could happen) they somehow get onto the topic of "haha it'd be even harder to tell them apart with your eyes closed!" and hinata, without thinking, goes "well, i probably could" and everyone is like "WHAT"

he digs himself an even deeper hole by saying "no, i just meant - i know hyakuzawa's body really well!!!" and everyone immediately starts screaming

poor hyakuzawa is dying on the inside

i think shibayama (MY BELOVED) kind of occasionally forgets that he also has his own fanbase and is sort of semi-famous as the libero of tokai heavy industries esperanza bc. he knows kenma and yaku and lev and komi and yamamoto and fukunaga and, in general, a bunch of people that he believes are much more well-known than he is

he's always so flattered whenever someone stops him in the street to ask for a pic or when he sees posts online gushing about him

this is extra funny bc he never talks about his friends like they're famous so all of his teammates don't really know that shibayama is friends with all these other famous people

and then one of them, an avid kodzuken fan, spams their group chat when kodzuken's newest video is released and shibayama shows up in it

they're like "SHIBAYAMA!! HOW COME YOU NEVER TOLD US THAT YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH KODZUKEN??" and shibayama is like "i have?? i talk about kenma-san all the time??" and they're like "YOU'RE TELLING ME KODZUKEN IS THE SAME KENMA-SAN WHO RIPPED HIS HIGH SCHOOL JERSEY TRYING TO JUMP OVER A FENCE???"

(shibayama's second year. they'd been dealing with things. it worked out, in the end. even if they had to lie to nekomata and naoki about why all their jerseys ended up with holes in them.)

i love the pro teams you guys they're so fucking funny

[yandere-daydreams]

‘al’ means ‘the’ in arabic, and the character is named after ibn al-haytham, a famous mathematician and astronomer, ‘al-haytham’ meaning ‘the young falcon’. obviously hoyo does not give a fuck so the character is called alhaitham with no hyphen or space. typically you would write it as Al-Haitham, but a lot of people, specifically native arabic speakers have taken to calling him haitham, as al is just an article. if you wanted to you could even type it as the traditional haytham, it’s really up to your personal preference since there tends to be multiple spellings of arabic words and names

hmm i see i see,,, hoyoverse does definitely have a habit of just mashing multi-section names together for the sake of simplicity (zhong li as zhongli my beloathed). i do think alhaitham is a little more passable specifically because he's named after a historical figure and therefore his name is a little more of a homage than a direct pull, but hyphens cannot be that expensive. i think i'll probably stick with alhaitham just because that's what's commonly used in fandom spaces, but perhaps there will be the occasional haitham. as a treat.

[thebiscuiteternal]

I am a dumbass and accidentlly deleted the ask while trying to edit the draft, which meant typing it all over again, but here are some notes for the nonnie who asked for more of the reverse Nies with a larger age gap.

This Huaisang is probably one of my most quiet and withdrawn ones. Being the only child for so long meant he was given no slack by the grown-ups, so any frivolous things he likes are buried way, way down deep where they can't be mocked or taken away from him.

He still paints on the very rare occasions he can get time to himself, and he looks after the sect's hunting falcons with great zeal (a trait actually encouraged by Papa Nie, and the first thing they actually bonded over), but he never lets anyone see the paintings and he is so, so careful not to let himself get too caught up in wanting, or even looking at less "useful" birds.

Ironically, two of the people he was closest to before the murder were Wen Ruohan and Wen Xu.

The former was like an indulgent uncle (he thought at the time, though he came to question that quite a bit later), always praising his cleverness and never forgetting to bring a gift when he visited, and the latter was the one to sometimes drag him out of his metaphorical defensive shell and off on an 'adventure' (usually ending in some new food he'd never tried before).

He was introduced to the Lan heir and spare as a child, but he and Xichen never hit it off like Xichen and Mingjue would have (they're... okay, just kind of blandly polite to each other the way they'd be expected to be as sect leaders) and Wangji was of the age where he didn't like anybody.

Due to becoming sect leader on the same year he would have been sent to the lectures, he has to miss them. Lan Qiren "sells" him copies of the materials with the price being he has to keep up some kind of correspondence to show he's actually reading them at least occasionally. They become friends? Sort of? Though it's more like an amiable mentorship.

Mingjue is a rambunctious little hellion from day one. His laugh is loud, his crying is loud, and the only two people he actually calms down for are his wet nurse and Huaisang.

There are those in the sect who accuse Huaisang of trying to hoard Mingjue's attention and mold him into a less-than-proper heir to protect his position, which Huaisang tends to roll his eyes at because 1) who would want the kind of sect leader role he's been crammed into, and 2) it's deeply rich that they accuse him of doing the same thing they want to do to his baby brother.

Whenever Mingjue is being a particularly big handful, Huaisang calls him "Beastie"(<3) or "Little Monster"(<3), which just makes Mingjue laugh and laugh even though he has no idea what the words mean.

Mingjue's first word is "Ge" to the surprise of no one and the annoyance of many.

Mingjue's favorite animal in the whole wide world is tigers, and it's common to see him clutching a stuffed one as he snoozes in Huaisang's lap.

Once he's weaned, Mingjue loves mushed up fruit, but he likes gumming on preserved meat the most, because he is his father's son. Huaisang makes sure he always has snacks on him, and this also winds up forcing him to quit skipping meals because Mingjue gets snippy and won't eat without him.

There are nights where Huaisang is just so tired and so miserable from constantly fighting to do anything without being judged or second-guessed that he just wants to curl up in a ball and cry until he's empty, and then Mingjue will crawl across the bed and pap his face with little baby hands in a demand for sleep cuddles and the love of and from his baby brother is usually enough comfort to get him through to the next day.

[ceruleanwhore]

People have talked about how a lot of the Ikemen games give all the suitors pets, so I thought I’d make a post of what pets I think the ikepri guys would have. 

WARNING: there’s a spoiler about Gilbert at the end, but the kind where you’d probably have to look something up to know what it is. Take that as you will.

Jin would absolutely have a small monkey that he’d wear on his shoulder into town as another way to pick up women. I could also see him training said monkey to steal little things from particular people he points out both as a way to get stuff from people for like his job but also as another, more contrived way to get women to talk to him. Think about it: Jin having his pet monkey steal a beautiful woman’s scarf so she has to chase it back to him and then he pretends to be surprised and disappointed that his pet did that and returns the object to its owner who now is falling for his charm and starting to think that maybe the monkey isn’t so bad.

Chevalier would have a cat because, as Sebastian from Black Butler once said, they do not say useless things or do them, plus they tend to be independent, clean, and kill vermin. He’d manage to find a cat that’s pretty much silent and never meows and also is fairly independent so, aside from occasionally curling up on Chev’s lap (silently) while he’s reading, it doesn’t require much from him.

Clavis would get a loud, messy dog like a rat terrier or a hound that he would deliberately not train to get rid of those typically undesirable behaviors because he likes the chaos and it annoys Chev and Sariel.

Leon would have a peregrine falcon. In older times, like the sort of time period ikepri is set in, there was a hierarchy of which birds of prey guys could have depending on what their title was as royalty or nobility, and princes got peregrines, so I think that’s appropriate.

Yves would have some kind of bird, I’m thinking a rosy-faced lovebird. I could see it being a gift one of his brothers brought back for him from another country where they’re native, since it seemed that Yves could use a friend.

Licht would have an Irish wolfhound that he’d take for very long walks every morning at some ungodly hour when normal people are asleep.

Nokto would have a ferret. Being as clever as he is, he’d do well with an equally clever pet, plus he’ll be able to properly care for it and train it. I could see him teaching his ferret a bunch of tricks, including sneaking into locked rooms and unlocking doors from the inside.

Luke would have a fucking badger. Idk it just makes sense to me.

Sariel wouldn’t have a pet of his own but, since the king’s death, he would take over the duties of caring for the late king’s gyrfalcon until a new king is chosen and that bird then goes to whoever Emma picks to be the next king. This is also coming from that bird hierarchy I mentioned with Leon.

Rio would have a bunny because it reminds him of Emma. He is a golden retriever, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to then get a dog, but something that reminds him of his beloved Emma makes sense for him. He’d ‘joke’ about how it’s to keep him company while she’s at work and how he pretends it’s her and they have long conversations or whatever.

Silvio would have something really small and cute like a stoat that’s like the dead opposite of Silvio. He would’ve rescued it somehow and from there he’s just really attached to it and protective of it.

Keith would be really fond of the fish in the pond at the Jade palace and that’s as close as he gets to having a pet because he’s a sad boi who doesn’t trust himself not to hurt the things and people he loves.

Gilbert would have a golden eagle (more of that bird stuff) and he would 1000% keep that secret from anyone outside the Obsidian royal palace, because it’s a giveaway of who he really is. Also, I feel like he would actually have a close relationship with his bird, plus I do think rather than using the bird for hunting like actual royalty did, he would use it to intimidate people and also to send messages occasionally.

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find four lines

Thanks @melpomene-grey here!

Rules: find four lines in your WIP that match the prompts, then change ONE prompt for the next people!

A line about music

From The Secret Portal Part One (Akash POV)

“Hey, Ash, what instrument do you play?” “Oh,” she looked down at her Falcon Intermediate Band t-shirt, “euphonium. And occasionally tuba if needed.” “I sit near her when she’s playing tuba,” said Gwen. “But it depends on which instrument I’m on.” “It’s cool you can play more than one instrument,” I said.

A line about pain

From The Secret Portal Part One (Jedi POV)

The world around me spotted as I dropped to my knees, bending over. My teeth soon couldn’t push against each other any more, and my voice ran out of my body in a cry that I didn’t know it was capable of making.

A line about isolation

From The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

But despite that feeling of isolation, I didn’t care much, since I had Akash. We were both a little lonely, but being lonely together was better than being lonely alone.

A bittersweet line

From The Secret Portal Part Two (Noelle POV)

I hope you know he sees you as…” she cleared her throat, “a sort of…” she waved her hand, “protégée, I guess.” I felt a pang in my chest. I knew the word Dr. Asghar was searching for was probably deeper than that. In truth, Jedi was becoming a pseudo-mentor for me. I didn’t have any adult male figures in my life that I could look up to, but knowing that my biological dad was out there somewhere made me hesitant to call Jedi anything more than that: a pseudo-mentor.

Tagging @sunset-a-story @somethingclevermahogony @novel-nook-blog @leahnardo-da-veggie @authorcoledipalo

Your lines will be: a line about music, a line about pain, a line about relationships, and a bittersweet line!

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet

[avirael]

FFxivWrite 2024

Day 14 - Telling

Curiously A‘viloh looked up to the blue sky and tried to imagine what the star constellation Rael talked about looked like here in the Sea of Clouds. A’viloh had asked about their studies and for a while now Rael had tried to explain to him the basics of astrology.

„So what do the stars tell you? Will we soon be able to leave Coerthas and go back home?“, he wondered and turned a tarot card around between his fingers.

Rael shook their head.

„You know, astrology is not exactly fortune telling, A‘vi…“

„That’s a shame…“, A‘viloh sighed and plucked an apple from the bag between them.

„Besides…“, Rael added with a bit of hesitation. „Eorzea isn’t my home…“

His ears twitched and A‘viloh sat up as if he just remembered a very important detail he had entirely forgotten.

„I am sorry… I’m behaving like an idiot and forgot you probably feel even worse…“

„No.“, Rael said but kept browsing through the astrology book in their lap looking for an illustration they had wanted to show the Miqo’te. „This is not what I was trying to say…“

„I remember you said you were homesick. Is that what’s bothering you lately? I can imagine this place must be horribly different from your home?“, A‘viloh asked and eyed the viera, hoping to see some reaction, something that would make him understand them a little better.

For a moment Rael just silently stared at the book in their lap, but clearly without reading it, then they closed it and instead turned their gaze to A‘viloh. „It indeed is very different and you are right…but that’s not all of it…“

Attentively the Miqo’te looked at Rael and waited for them to continue. It was very apparent that Rael chose their next words carefully.

„You know, I realised you and me are not so different after all. I am not at all better than you. Not wiser, not more unfailing and certainly not braver. Everything that ever made me special was my magic but—“

The screech of a bird echoed through the air and both of them looked up to see one pass by far over their heads. The silhouette was difficult to recognise from this distance but A‘viloh thought the call had hounded like a falcon. The Ishgardians sometimes used falcons and owls to deliver messages over longer distances and judging its direction he assumed that this one could be headed for the Rosehouse.

„What were you trying to say?“

As he looked back to Rael, the Viera’s eyes still followed the bird gracefully sailing through the sky on silent wings.

„Mh?“, they snapped back to attention as A‘viloh spoke again. „Oh… yes! Uhm… Astrology! I was trying to say that it helps greatly to not feel as useless around here! As you know I am mostly trained in magic but you see, even here in Ishgard as strange as it might be, there are still new and interesting things to learn even for me!“

A‘viloh eyed them sceptically. Their voice sounded entirely different now, much more casual than before and somehow he doubted that this was what Rael had been about to say.

But why wouldn’t they be telling the truth?

„You see, all I am trying to tell you, A‘vi, is that maybe you should try learning something new too? If only to keep you busy until Yugiri returns with information. Lord Haurchefant once mentioned one of his friends is developing a new fighting technique at the Skysteel Manufactory, that is so easy to learn he even recruits common people with no experience in fighting at all. Maybe you could visit and see if it interests you?“, Rael explained and smiled friendly at the Miqo’te. But it wasn’t the same smile Rael wore when they truly were happy about something. It was the smile they used on strangers. To reassure them that everything was perfectly fine, even if that occasionally was a lie.

“I don’t know…”, A’viloh answered, more wondering about if there was a way to ask Rael about it without accusing them of lying. But that opportunity seemed gone.

[culturalmochiart]

Your secret identity AU has plagued my mind so harshly-

I want so many details on it (also your art is fucking GORGEOUS and yummy)

~A-Anon

THANK YOU!!!!! OOOO okay okay umm hmmm

I haven’t drawn it in a while, admittedly but lemme try and write down the general timeline. It’ll get a bit long so I’ll do a read more PLUS there will be spoilers for the whole au down under :)

So it’s like pilots/season 1 era, after saving Nya, her and Kai go back to their shop, Jay lives with his parents, Zane stays at the monastery, and Cole probably camps around nearby since he can’t go home.

Zane is the first to reveal his identity, figuring he doesn’t remember anyone from his life, so he can’t put anyone in danger. Wu is a little annoyed his student disobeyed, but he sees Zane’s logic and knows he meant well. Things continue on, feelings start to develop, and the timeline starts to move.

The ninja will occasionally interact while in civvies, but again, they don’t know who is who so they interact differently than when under the mask. Kai thinks jay is annoying and doesn’t like him spending so much time around Nya but he LOVES blue and thinks his same jokes and mannerisms are silly. After the reveal of Zane, he starts tutoring Nya which Kai feels soooooo normal about. Jay goes from having a crush on Nya to becoming her best friend, as they have late night talks and both discover maybe they don’t feel romance in the typical way, and definitely not for each other. Poor Cole is just hanging out in the woods :(

Things skip to around Home and Snakebit, Zane finding the bounty is just as angsty but more so bc it’s stretched over a few days, and he misses his tutoring sessions with Nya which worries THE HELL out of all of them. Wu likely stays with Kai and Nya, Kai telling her his home burned down and he needs a place to stay for the moment. I imagine they see the falcon flying around and follow him to the bounty, where Zane is waiting with a meal for them :]

Jay is revealed next in snakebit! He’s a mamas boy and tells his parents everything, and they’re supportive!! So they don their most clever disguises and go for a visit!! They’re so excited to see their boy they call him by name, so oops!! They get to meet Jay AND his parents!! Kai breaks for a while bc the guy he likes is also the guy he dislikes, and he’s weird for a while until he notices Jay doing the same cute things he did as Blue and

When Jay visits Kai and Nya next, Kai is a lot more civil if not a little embarrassed.

In the snake king, Kai learns Nya is Samurai X, and she ALSO learns Kai is one of the ninja. He keeps the others’ identities secret because it’s not his place to tell her.

We eventually get to tick tock, Zane regains his memory and unlocks his true potential, but he’s a little more sad after, because now he knows theres no one out there looking for him. He falls into the comforting embrace of his teammates. In once bitten twice shy, instead of confessing to Nya, Jay confesses to Cole, Kai, and Zane. This is when they start dating!!

Cole is next!! He’s revealed during his true potential episode. Instead of having his teammates help him win the cup, he decides to go at it alone but in some way or another, the others decide to join in and help him win. Cole reveals himself backstage after the concert when he confronts his dad, and Pythor, seeing that one of the ninja’s parents is in the open and vulnerable, takes his chance to drop all of the equipment onto Cole and Lou. They’re okay of course, but it ended up being quite the scare.

Kai is last to his potential AND his reveal. He knows Nya is capable and that she can handle herself in danger, but the incident with Cole and his dad has him afraid for what Pythor could do to her, his only baby sister. He’s also nervous that if they knew the true him, they wouldn’t like him as much as they do now. All his fear causes him to distance himself from his boyfriends, he loves them deeply, but the danger of it all makes him question whether he should keep being a ninja. All the fear and doubt and his rush to reach his true potential is a very bad combo of feelings that culminate in the volcano with Lloyd.

He feels that he can prove himself worthy of being green ninja and that he’s good enough for his bf’s by getting the fangblade, bc if not for him being special, what the point of keeping him around? Idk it’s a lotta self doubt like in the actual show but gayer.

He hears Lloyd call out to him, realizes what’s truly important, and reaches his true potential. Everyone is waiting on the ship with bated breath as the volcano explodes, too shocked to feel any emotion at the moment. And then they emerge!! In a ball of fire, Kai and Lloyd land on the deck. Maybe the lava caught his mask, maybe his fire subconsciously burned it away, but Kai is revealed in all his blazing glory to the shock and awe of his boyfriends.

Lloyd runs to his dad, and Kai is dog piled by his boys, green ninja stuff happens, and that’s basically the end!! I’m sure I didn’t include every little detail but this is basically the gist!! :]

An older doodle for u too <3

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hii!

I was wondering if I could request a romantic matchup? I really love your writing! I’d love it from Star Wars or marvel ( both if you’re feeling particular nice but either one will do)

My pronouns are she/her and I would like to be matched with a man.

A little bit about me: I love psychology and literature and I’m a very big family person.

I love to read and write the occasional poetry. I loveeee dogs ( I have one right now) and I’m pretty funny.

I get pretty self conscious, but on the off days I’m not in kinda like the life of the party and I’m very hyper sensitive to people emotions and reactions.

I’d say I’m pretty smart and focused; and if I have a goal in mind I almost always get it done. I tend to be a little hard on myself but I’m working on it and o have a really sassy streak.

I love making people laugh and feeling included; but I’m still searching for my ‘person’ yk? I’d say I’m pretty smart and sorted and I love trying new things.

I’m pretty spontaneous and I love my culture (I’m Indian) a lot. My favourite tv shows are friends and Brooklyn 99 because I love things that make me laugh; and my secret pleasure is that I loose soft toys.

My love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation, and I love talking to people about anything.

My favourite artists are Taylor swift, one direction, Sabrina carpenter and Gracie abrams to name a few and I’m really into cricket and f1!

Yeah that’s a little bit abt me hehe; thank you ik advance !!

Here ya go! I always do all listed fandoms, (my longest matchup request was 10!) they are never a burden to do and always fun so I don't mind doing them! You are free to even request more too. Anyhoo, I hope you like your matchups! <3333

---

(Romantic);

---

Star Wars;

Han Solo:

🌙 You met Han before he met Obi-Wan and before he met Luke; just maybe a couple of months before - though, you weren't a bounty hunter or anything, you were just doing your own thing

🌙 For some reason, the two of you worked together, traveling space together - you and Han work well together - though you and him sometimes butt heads - you get the work done; somewhere down the line, you and Han became a thing

🌙 You and Han, when not bounty hunting, you and Han chillax. Resting in the Falcon, you reading while Han fidgets around with some tech that he's trying to fix - though sometimes if you have no more books to read, Han is more than willing to teach you how to fly the Falcon, (he probably won't let your fly all the time, maybe if there is an emergency, but it's fun overall)

🌙 Han is always there to listen to you - he'd be a good listener - just sitting down somewhere together in the Falcon, just listening to you talk about literally everything and everything; this chatting will probably lead to cuddling, maybe even a nap

🌙 You and Han are a pretty powerful couple, the both of you are persistent and do what you can to get what you want - it's hard for the other bounty hunters to track you both down; you always run away scott-free, hand in hand, your laughter ringing throughout the air

---

Marvel;

Matt Murdock:

😈 You actually met Matt when you were called to the stand as the Psychologist in some smaller-lesser known crime court thing - Matt though, when he heard you speak, he was like (★‿★)

😈 After the case thing, and though he could see in a cooler/different way, he was able to follow your voice as you spoke to someone outside the courthouse - he may have slightly spooked you, and you may have been a bit nervous, but when Matt complimented you about your knowledge and how impressed he was; well, swoon

😈 Once official, which may have taken some time, you and Matt move in together and you did a lot together - going to the gym, and listening to your favorite music

😈 A lot of cuddling, just staying up at night - when Matt's not fighting crime - staying up at night together, playing with each other's hands, soft music playing in the background, whispering sweet nothings to each other

😈 And if you're feeling down, Matt will be there for you, trying to soothe you, but if you want some alone time, Matt is more than willing to give you some time and space - he'd probably just go out and fight a baddie, and bring Chinese food home when he does

[keaalu]

Ghosts, chapter 1

“Well, Sarra, our supplemental feeding appears to have done the trick! I am glad you are looking so much healthier.”

Lieutenant Hiro set the tweezers to one side and screwed the lid back onto the jar of dried mealworm crumbs, then stood back to admire the plant he was talking to.

Yes, it was really starting to look rather splendid, now – a circlet of trumpets all topped with rich pink leaftips. The sunlamps above it seemed to make it glow from within.

After encountering (and accidentally befriending) the monstrous giant sundew Zelda had sent to Earth, Hiro’s curiosity had been piqued, and he’d adopted a Sarracenia, adding the carnivorous plant to Spacehawk’s little private orbiting jungle. The stately North American trumpet pitcher hadn’t particularly enjoyed being aboard, for a long time; a combination of artificial gravity, artificial light, the wrong water and no insects to eat had left it looking sad, with crispy brown tips to its dry pitchers.

After Hiro had reviewed the amount and type of water he gave it, hastily purchased mealworms to feed it, and fretted over it for a few weeks, at last the plant had settled in. The newest pitchers were still small but had already blushed an intense lacy magenta at their tops.

“So do you want me to add ‘buggy bits’ to our monthly supply order?” a bored voice asked, from the other side of the flight deck.

Hiro glanced around to meet the gaze of his zeroid companion, and smiled, affectionately. “Oh, I think even six-monthly should be far more than adequate, Owun. But if you could add it to our inventory, that would be good, thank you.” He turned the plant a little under its light, and checked again that it had enough water in the dish beneath it. “Once I have established an ideal feeding routine, I would like it if you could set me a regular reminder for those, as well.”

“Sure thing, Hiro. Just let me know what you want, when you’re ready.” After a moment, 101 added, more brightly; “She is looking pretty nice again.”

Hiro knew that for all that Space Sergeant 101 griped about Spacehawk’s private onboard forest, a lot of it was now just keeping up appearances, and the zeroid had (privately, or so he apparently thought) grown fond of the assorted plants aboard – particularly as looking after them was something he could actively be involved with. It was no secret that in spite of the occasional grumble, 101 would do literally anything for his beloved Hiro, and although he was perhaps a little too clumsy to do much more than dust and water, he treated being trusted to help look after the plants like a declaration of true love from his human – which, in a way, Hiro had finally realised… it probably was? In that quiet, understated way he did most things.

The lieutenant had never expected to fall in love in the first place, let alone with the silly, fussy little thing he shared a large proportion of his life with. But there was no denying it; ever since that time 101 – or Owun, as most Terrahawks had taken to calling him these days – went missing in London, Hiro had begun to feel… something. He’d kept trying to tell himself that it was just a lost zeroid, and he was just worried that someone might get access to Terrahawks secrets, and he was just frustrated that he personally was going to train someone new to take the command position, but… really? He’d missed his shipmate dreadfully.

It probably wasn’t a huge surprise that they’d grown close. Yes, it had taken Hiro a (slightly embarrassingly) long time to cotton on to the fact that there was something rather deeper to his little shadow’s behaviour than just robot-happily-following-instructions – Captain Falconer had finally taken him to one side and told him, in no uncertain terms, what literally everyone else could apparently see was going on. But after a few days of awkwardness (and a long, very frank conversation, triggered by a trip to the theatre) they’d both realised that actually, all they were really doing was putting a new name on what they already had.

They were still feeling their way, carefully; figuring out how it all worked and what they both wanted, but aside from Owun being much (much) more likely to try and initiate snuggles, now? They’d happily got back into the same old routines and were just as comfortable in each other’s company as they’d always been.

“Indeed! Another happy plant. Good work to both of us,” Hiro declared, brushing imaginary dirt off his hands.

“Well, I think that was more than ninety-nine percent your work, but I’m not going to say ‘no’ to listening to you say nice things about me.”

Hiro chuckled and patted the top of the zeroid’s casing in passing, and was rewarded with a chirpy laugh and an attempt at an affectionate headbutt.

With Mars approaching its most distant point from Earth, and Zelda being suspiciously quiet, it was affording Hiro a little time to devote to his experiments, like the whole tray of genetically-enhanced zinnia seedlings that he was currently nurturing. He wasn’t particularly keen on the enemy’s ongoing silence, but he implicitly trusted the zeroids to warn him the instant anything happened. Space zeroids didn’t get “antsy” and were quite contentedly watching the solar system’s various comings and goings. While they remained relaxed, so could he be.

Owun could usually be counted on to shatter the peace. “Ooh, sir! I have a-… con-… tact? …I think?”

Hiro straightened and turned to look properly at him; when the zeroid went from excited alarm to confusion in what amounted to less than a single breath, it was rarely a good sign.

The sergeant had canted over at a jaunty angle, like a puzzled dog with its head cocked. “Actually I’m not sure what I have.”

“Explain?” Hiro slipped immediately back into the role of serious professional, turning his attention to the console displays.

“Well, there’s… something out there? A teensy bit beyond Earth’s gravitational sphere of influence. Everyone is telling me they’re picking up a massive energy signature, but we can’t see what it’s coming from. It doesn’t look like it has any mass? And I didn’t see it coming!” At Hiro’s quirked eyebrow, Owun shifted defensively on his perch. “…because it just appeared out of nowhere.”

“Appeared out of nowhere?” Hiro echoed. “You know that is impossible.”

“Well I don’t have a better explanation just yet so I’m sticking with it. It did just appear.”

For the zeroid to double down on something patently absurd – energy did not just spontaneously generate out of nothing – suggested there was something else going on that was just a step or two beyond his imagination.

Hiro tapped his fingers to his lips. “When we first encountered Zelda, she had miniaturised her vessel,” he mused. “And all we could see was the energy signature. Does this match up with the readings we took then?”

“Ten-zero, lieutenant. And it hasn’t moved, either. Whatever it is, it’s just sitting there.”

“Does it match any other known phenomena in Spacehawk’s databases?”

“Ten-zero.”

“Hmm. Bring up a visual feed and let me look.”

Owun threw the current view up on the screen, and waited.

Hiro leaned over the control console and watched for several seconds. It remained a stubbornly motionless starfield. Whatever the zeroids were all looking at, it was indeed invisible to human eyes. “Compile the results from different spectra, appraise, and tell me what you see,” he instructed.

“One moment sir…” Owun got his crew to enhance their zoom, and the image shifted slightly, the stars becoming fractionally blurrier as the zeroids all focused on something new. The image rippled briefly with distortions as a variety of analytical filters turned on and off.

After a minute or two of interpretation, the sergeant came back with a succinct evaluation: “Not sure. It looks like a lot of dust, really.”

Hiro swallowed the sigh. “Not terribly helpful. Do you have any scans from before you noticed it?”

Owun hummed and scrolled back through the logs, optics flickering. “It’s limited, as no-one was really focused on looking that way, but yes sir. Bringing it up now.”

The screen shifted subtly to reveal the same otherwise-empty starfield, slightly wider. Hiro watched it, for several seconds. He lifted a finger. “Space sergeant, where-”

“There! Did you see it?”

Hiro gave him a tense look. He didn’t like to ponder it too deeply just yet, but could there be a fault in the zeroid himself, somewhere? Or worse? He didn’t like to think the whole crew could be wrong when they were all so fixated on something, but stranger things had happened. “Replay it? Half speed.” The zeroid obliged, but Hiro still couldn’t make it out. “What are you looking at?”

“Uhm. Hmm.” Owun hastily did some more processing. “Let me see if I can-… there.”

The image replayed again – pixellated by the increased zoom, but this time Hiro saw it. A handful of stars at the centre briefly shimmered, winked out, then became visible again. It lasted barely a second. “What in the world-… What happened there?” It looked almost like a giant dark hand had briefly waved in front of them. “You say there is nothing there to physically account for the readings?”

“Aside from dust? Correct.”

Hiro opened his mouth to speak, but Owun got there first.

“Wait. Wait, there might be debris, as well.”

“Debris?” Hiro frowned at him, frustrated. “From what? You said there was nothing there! How did you not see-…” He lifted a hand, as if to cut himself off. “Show me? Full magnification?”

Owun looked a little offended by the accusatory tone but did as he was told. “Full magnification, ten-ten sir.”

The screen flickered and focused in on a handful of scorched, twisted lumps of metal, all slowly drifting outwards, away from each other. It looked like it had come from… some sort of explosion? An explosion they somehow hadn’t seen?

What on earth was going on.

“What did we miss this time?” Hiro spread his hands, palms out. “While we were looking at… meaningless historic scans?”

“We didn’t miss anything, lieutenant Hiro.” Owun spoke slowly and precisely, just to ensure there was no doubt in anyone’s mind. “There was nothing there. Then there was the energy surge, and the flicker, then dust. And now this.” His shutters had already pulled partway closed, hurt. “It is beyond my ability to explain, sir. I can only tell you what we see, and I made you aware of everything the instant we saw it.”

They just stared at each other for several heartbeats.

Hiro leaned his weight against the console. “…forgive me.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did not mean to sound like I was accusing you of paying inadequate attention. Of course this is not your fault.” He offered his hand and let Owun bump his fingers, mollified. “I am… unsettled. Something we cannot define has apparently appeared from nowhere. Barely five minutes passed since you spotted the energy surge, and now debris has appeared.” He studied the displays, for the briefest moments. “What else might be happening that we cannot see? Are we under attack? Should we be doing something to defend ourselves?”

“We don’t see anything new,” Owun supplied, optimistically. “And it still hasn’t moved.”

“Good. Please may it stay that way.”

“…and I put our shields up already. Can’t be too careful.”

“Thank you.” Hiro found a small smile. “Good forward thinking, because I think we need to get closer.”

“I was worried you might say that.” Owun visibly deflated. “Precisely how much closer.”

“Close enough that we can pick up some samples. We need to focus on establishing some facts, because I am quite sure we will not be the only organisation to have noticed this, and Doctor Ninestein will not be happy with vague answers.”

“Can’t we just throw probes at it from over here?” But from the way his optic display was scrolling, the zeroid was already computing their journey. “Just in case it bites.”

The pitch of Spacehawk’s generators changed as her engines fired, and Hiro felt his weight shift with the inertia of the great battleship moving away from orbit. It didn’t take long to cover the distance; Hiro took advantage of the brief period of quiet to update Hawknest.

“All right. This appears to be a good distance.” The young man took a steadying breath. “Let us take a closer look.”

“Ten-ten, sir. Bringing up a wide view now.”

The screen came up with an augmented visual; the bright tapestry of the natural stars overlaid with digital enhancements showing the individual pieces of debris, the extent of the dust, and the mysterious energy source.

Curiously, all the debris was travelling away from the apparent epicentre in one direction. Hiro drummed his fingertips against the console. That was not how explosions tended to work. “You are certain your crew have not missed anything…?” he suggested, carefully.

Owun gave him one of those looks. “We’ve been scanning constantly since we saw it. I’ve been compositing the results ever since.” He at least managed (this time) not to sound terribly offended by the insinuation. “If we missed anything, it’s because it was invisible.”

Hiro pursed his lips and returned his gaze to the screen. “None of this is behaving as I would expect.” He flicked two fingers against the screen to zoom in on one of the floating objects. “It should not be all going-” Something worrying caught his eye. “Wait, stop! Hold the frame there.”

The screen froze.

“Do you see what I do?” Hiro asked, very quietly, touching one specific area of the image on the screen.

Owun studied the frame. It was too small and distant to see much, particularly while it was still rotating, and whatever Hiro was wanting him to focus on was still just a black smudge that defeated his rudimentary imagination. “Let me see if we can get a better look.”

Now his team all knew where to focus their attention, the image that came back was sharper, and larger.

And harder to hide from.

The piece of metal continued its lazy twisting path through space, and as it turned, a logo became visible. A stylised bird of prey, front on, wings spread, holding something in its talons. Whatever it carried had mostly vanished in the blast that had torn the metal apart, but enough of it was left – a horizontal straight line, like the top bar of a capital T – that neither officer could deny their own eyes any more.

“Does that not look like our insignia?” Hiro prompted, quietly.

“But we didn’t do that!” Owun had already rocked slightly backwards on his perch in alarm. “…did we?” A little side to side flitter of the optics, as it looking for a hidden camera. “Is someone testing us, sir?”

Hiro frowned at him. “To achieve what? This was not unscheduled target practice-”

“But why else would anyone be using our emblem?! It has to be a test-! And- oh no, does this mean we failed? What will happen now-”

Hiro put his hands up in a plea for calm and thankfully the zeroid focused on him instead of fretting over his personal thesis. “I am anxious about what this might mean, as well,” he eased. “But I think we can be confident that it is not a test. It does not appear to be trying to achieve anything, and quite possibly breaks the laws of physics.”

“But…” Owun looked back at the image on the screen. “It’s our logo.”

“And why would someone detonate something with our insignia on to test us?”

“To… check… we were paying attention?” Owun suggested, hopefully. “If it’s not a test, what is it?”

“I don’t know. It is… worryingly near to Earth, and we cannot explain it.” Hiro lifted a finger. “Yet.”

“Do you think it’s Zelda?”

“It would not surprise me if it was. Faking our insignia to pin any blame for something bad on Terrahawks does seem like her style. But I also think we are making hypotheses based off barely thirty minutes of study. We need some samples.”

Owun knew what that meant. He didn’t look happy about it, but squared himself up on his perch. “Ten-ten, sir. I’m taking 76 and 22 with me.”

“Good. I will leave it to you to decide on what you collect. In the meantime, I will start programming some probes to get closer.”

The other two zeroids met Owun at the airlock. They were happily unperturbed and obediently followed him out, which helped the sergeant feel a little more anchored. Telling himself it was all just a big test helped, too. Just to keep him and Hiro on their toes, make sure they were still operating at the top of their game. Nothing at all sinister or remotely scary.

The debris had continued its peaceful way away from the disturbance, rotating serenely, and gave Owun the chance to study it in detail as it passed.

Unmistakably a Terrahawks logo; all in black, with a line of engraved digits along the top edge. 00002

If this was the second one, what had happened to the first?

Well, that was for geniuses like Hiro to figure out. Owun fired an anchor line and snagged it, and reversed his own motors to bring it to a halt.

Take this back to Spacehawk, he instructed, guiding the chunk of metal over to the waiting 76, and go to cargo bay one. Lieutenant Hiro will tell you were he wants it for analysis.

76 chirped his acknowledgement and set off; 22 stayed patiently watching and waiting for orders.

I’m sending 76 back with a sample, Owun updated his commander. It’s the bit with our logo.

Ten-ten; thank you. Have you identified anything new?

Only that there’s a serial number on it. Nothing else yet. I’m gonna see if I can see where the dust is coming from.

Take care, Hiro cautioned. Don’t go too close. We have plenty of probes.

Using little bursts from his positioning motors, Owun approached the co-ordinates of the disturbance. The energetic centre of it, about twenty metres away, glowed like a small star in augmented reality, but visually? There was nothing at all to see. Even the dust was difficult to pick out against the black of the cosmos. He turned one of his running lights on and the dust became a thin grey haze under the sterile white glow.

A sharp sensation not unlike pain shot through his cortex. Alarmed, he automatically snapped his shutters closed, protectively, but the sensation disappeared almost as quickly as it had come on. Felt a little like he’d rolled over a live cable.

He was just evaluating if it was safe to open back up when he bumped into a piece of floating debris; it made him jump. There hadn’t been anything this way to bump into! He opened up a tiny slot and peeked out.

A piece of twisted metal was spinning away from him, trajectory altered by the impact. Where had that come from?

Actually, come to think of it… There was a lot of debris here. Far more than he’d seen before closing his shutters, when picking out which pieces to get his crewmates to take back to the ship. Sure there’d been plenty of dust, but not enough to obscure his vision to the degree that it would have stopped him seeing all this.

Can you see this, lieutenant? he asked.

Silence.

Well, that couldn’t be right. Had that painful sensation fried his antenna, too? He ran a hasty diagnostic and it seemed absolutely fine.

Lieutenant Hiro, I’ve found some more wreckage that we couldn’t see on the scans. Please acknowledge.

Silence.

Perhaps Hiro was just busy. Getting the lab ready.

Owun cycled to a backup frequency and tried again. Spacehawk, please come in.

Still no response. The zeroid fired a motor and got himself turned around, to face back towards home.

Things had… changed? He stared at it, baffled. Not just the extra debris – 22 had vanished, but there was no way he could have got all the way back to the ship in the few seconds Owun had his shutters closed. And the orbital battleship was further away than it had been – quite a bit further, actually.

Oh, he did not like this.

…Hiro? Honey? he tried, faintly. Please respond?

It felt like everything was dead. It was never this quiet!

I don’t like this. Where is everyone? But it was like talking into the void. Please guys. Did I do something to offend you? I made sure Hiro knew you hadn’t missed anything! I didn’t blame you! Please talk to me? Where are you all?

Owun set off on the long journey back to the ship, hoping that she wouldn’t move in the time it took him to get there. His own little onboard motors were good enough to transit the few kilometres in a decent timeframe but if Spacehawk took off without him, well. It’d take weeks to get back to Earth on his own from here.

He was at least finally satisfied that this had not been a test.

Spacehawk loomed up in front of him – unexpectedly dark and forbidding, large parts painted black and blending in with the dark of space, lacking the orange markings around her generators and engines.

Where normally Spacehawk had a bank of chattering space zeroids, keeping watch and alerting him to anything they spotted (and who would hopefully have been hailing him with greetings already), instead there was a heavy and obvious battery of sophisticated weaponry.

What. The. Heck.

He’d never been scared of his own ship before but right now he almost didn’t want to go near it.

Almost. Couldn't figure this out by running away from it.

Had he passed out? Had he been drifting dormant in space, impossible to find? Had he been offline for so long, that without him to command the space zeroids, they’d been forced to install some other defensive mechanism against Zelda?

No, ridiculous. He liked to think he was indispensable but the brutal truth was they’d just program a new sergeant, not build a whole new defence system. Perhaps the dependable but command-averse 17 would get an (unwanted) promotion. Spacehawk would never have sat right here near the dust patch for the whole time it took to build a bunch of laser guns, either.

And anyway, his chronometer had dutifully ticked along as normal, not missing so much as a microsecond, and when he sent a request to the earth’s universal timekeepers, it all matched up, within the usual acceptable relativistic margin of error for space travel.

The thing that worried him more – all right, frightened him, a teeny tiny little bit – was the fact that the clock didn’t say Coordinated Universal Time.

It said Coordinated Imperial time.

His first thought was that someone was playing an unkind joke on him. (Wouldn’t have been the first time Sergeant Major Zero had come up with something stupid like this to prank him with.) But he couldn’t work out how anyone could have done it so quickly? Or thoroughly. If this was a prank, someone was really flaming committed to it.

The door was still in the same place, at least. He hastily navigated over to it and boarded the vessel, and allowed himself a second or two of relief that he was safely aboard. The airlocks clonked weirdly and didn’t quite react to his code like they normally did, but eventually let him through.

Down in the maintenance accessways, it was… quiet. He peered around himself. Usually there was some sound aboard – crew moving around, the hisses and clicks and clonks of great ship’s internal mechanisms, the rattle of equipment being serviced. The inaudible electronic chatter of the onboard zeroids, too, constantly talking to each other over the various servers and shortwave communicators.

This felt more like a ghost ship. No voices anywhere.

“Hello?” Owun tried, faintly. His voice echoed slightly.

Well, you’re not going to figure it out if you stay down here hiding by the airlock all day, he scolded himself. Get up to the flight deck and talk to Hiro. He’ll be able to figure it out.

He set determinedly off into the maze of tubes, trying to ignore just how loud he sounded as he rolled.

He was halfway to the command centre when he rounded a corner and crashed into another zeroid with their positioning beacon offline.

Owun automatically protested; “Hey! Watch where you’re-”

Then he froze, the rest of the words dying unspoken in his vocaliser.

For several seconds, they just stared at each other.

The zeroid he’d collided with was particularly scruffy, sorely needing a good bath and a polish, with a chipped dusky pink brow band marked with three digits.

1 0 1

It was… him?

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY on time for this (wait, it's already November you say?!) but this is something I've been working on for @ainurweek for Day 9: Melkor I Mairon

(I have something for Day 1 - 8 too... just not yet finished... it's a good thing I'm never late.)

Read on on AO3 or under the cut as it's so long 😆 (and also totally unrevised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ❤️ though I can understand if you're too bored to read!

Also, I'd like to thank the people here on tumblr who encouraged me and assured me this was a nice fandom. Having been a wholly silent part of this fandom for years and years this is the first thing I have picked up the courage to share and I want to tell you, guys, THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️

At Mairon’s feet the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth as he willed it to as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when scornfully he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also, naturally.

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to design and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into sunlit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones in the exact, precisely perfect way whispering across his features and taste the whipping of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Valar and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first spark that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never did even reflect on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make mark any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his iron-clad feet now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine –  he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Valar, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I think, a brimming in my chest, is what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most.  

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I brimmed with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, His sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze at me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Valar, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of giles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even smug disdain, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. On Mairon’s flaming hair his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smoke grey, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor sharp as wolf teeth clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed. Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He cocked his head like a bird and returned, smug as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair whipped like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain for I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly, the hot-white rage came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like a conflagration to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look  at a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[fantasyfantasygames]

MiDDDle Space

MiDDDle Space, Stacked Studios, 2002

@identityuniverse sent me a copy of this and I would like to return it please.

The map of Middle-Earth is, as many fantasy maps are, roughly page-sized. It fades out near the edges of its flat world. It is extremely rare for someone working with Middle-Earth to fill in the least bit of that blank space. This game does it in a very unusual manner: it fills that blank space with outer space. It's a little bit Spelljammer, but it's more Starfinder. Elves and Ewarves and even the occasional Ent colony in space, with big ol' spaceships.

"But why the weird spelling?" you may be asking. Well, that's because it's a cross of Tolkien and extremely horny 90's cult TV show Lexx. You know. DDD like a bra size.

Which also explains the name of the game studio.

The setting doesn't bother explaining how anyone got into space or talking about that obviously-Middle-Earth-shaped postage stamp in the corner. It's all about "planet of the Warriors of Men" and "planet of the Dwarven smiths" and "ice planet of the Elven sex clothiers". I like the "Forest Asteroid of the Ents" but that might be more because I love space-forest stuff and Ents. NPCs are bog-standard stock characters who also want to bone.

The rules look kind of like they started off as Rolemaster (MERP, really) hack before shifting over to d20. It uses some custom classes to cover things like the Animist, Mentalist, Mystic, etc. It has plenty of critical hit/fail tables. It ports in some MERP skills directly, overwriting some d20 skills with them. There are places that refer to MERP mechanics like Maneuver rolls, which were not ported in. It's mostly playable if you're willing to do a fair amount of house-ruling.

You have a choice of five ships, with build-your-own ships in a supplement that's "coming soon" (it is not). One of the ships is very Lexx-looking, with the insectoid feel and the phallic look. It's very powerful and extremely unmaneuverable. You can also get a Spelljammer-like galleon with sails and everything, one that looks like an Elven Armada vessel, a vaguely Millennium-Falcon-like ship, or you can each get your own small ship to flit around in. I kinda like that last option. There is never any crew; the ship flies fine with just however many PCs you have. Regardless of which ship you pick, you're going to have a very rock-paper-scissors setup against other vessels and utter domination against anything ground-based.

The art is halfway between Elfquest and Dr. Voluptua. It's all greyscale. I do kinda like that you can see the artist improve in their anatomy and backgrounds over the course of the few years it took to create the game. It does not have a fun-and-sexy sense of humor, and the game plays things straight in multiple senses.

Honestly the thing that makes me unhappy about this game is that it's lazy. If you want to make a horny elfgame (or a horny-elf game), you do you. There are plenty of them out there, another one is fine. But don't make it a knockoff of two or three different IPs, with mechanics from two more, and nothing in it that really provides commentary on any of the above. Do something different or do satire, don't just push out content.

MiDDDle Space was swamped in the d20 tsunami. There were only about 200 copies made in the first place, so it's a bit of a collector's item in some corners.

[iwant-fuitgummi]

Part 2 of my mondstadt headcanons!

(FF = Found Family)

pt. 1 here

Diona Katzlein

she/her

10

Family: Draff Katzlein (Father), Diluc Ragnvindr (FF Dad since draff sucks), Margaret (FF Mom), Eury (FF Mom), Fischl (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Klee Babler

Diona has type 1 diabetes. Margaret helps her get insulin and dietary supplements.

She has tourettes. Her most common tics are meows, hisses, mouth pops, whistles, and jumping.

Diona is very sensitive to sound. Diluc commissioned Albedo to make soundproof earplugs made specifically for her ears.

Diona goes "fishing" with Klee. She turns all of the fish Klee blasts into her specialty dish, and the two use them for picnics.

She loves birdwatching. She sometimes has the urge to catch them, but she stops herself. This is how she teaches herself self control.

Fischl taught her how to use her bow

Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort (I did the actual Fischl and the Immernachtreich Fischl because I wanted to highlight some differences)

she/they/he/xe/star/starself/nil/thy/one

16

Xenogender, Omnisexual, Polyamorous

Currently dating Bennett Faust and Razor Minci

Family: Mother and Father, Diluc (FF Father), Diona (FF Sister), Mona Megistus (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Oz

Fischl has autism, ADHD, tourettes, and BPD. SHe is also a maladaptive daydreamer.

Fischl loses sleep due to how often she stays up writing her books. Diluc gives her tea to help her sleep.

Speaking of which, they spend a lot of time at the winery to avoid going home to their parents. Diluc gave them their own room that they can decorate however they want.

Xe taught Diona how to use her bow. Xe is mostly self-taught, but Kaeya helped xem learn the basics.

Diluc lets star borrow his falcon so that star can take it and Oz on playdates. Star loves watching them fly together, but it reminds star of stars lack of friends. Diona offers to come with star, though, so star feels less alone.

Immernachtreich Fischl looks significantly different from the real Fischl. Most noticeably, their more confident expression and lack of eyebags. She also has a smile, while the real Fischl has RBF.

Diluc Ragnvindr

ANGST WARNING BTW

he/him

24

Transgender man, Biromantic, Homosexual

In an unlabeled relationship with Venti

Family: Crepus Ragnvindr (Dad), Kaeya Alberich-Ragnvindr (Brother), Diona Katzlein (FF Daughter), Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort (FF Daughter)

Best Friend: how do i say this nicely. none.

Everytime Diluc sees Kaeya and Eula drinking together, he feels a pang of sadness. When this happens, he gets Charles to cover his shift so he can take a break. He doesn't want his patrons to see him sad because of his brother finding a new family.

Diluc has severe burns on his hands from the delusion.

He wears a necklace under his suit. It has a starconch that Kaeya gave him as a kid. He keeps it there in hopes that it'll somehow help him get his brother back.

He has a lot of extra rooms in the Dawn Winery. One was given to Venti, another to Fischl, and another to Diona whenever she wants to stay there...but Kaeya's room is never occupied. It's exactly the same as it was when he left six years ago. Diluc's kept it the same, and occasionally just sits in there when he misses his brother.

Diluc loves animals, even though the only pet he has is his falcon. He has a special soft spot for cats, but he never lets them near the winery in order to keep Venti safe.

Eula Lawrence

she/her

27

Cisgender Woman, Asexual, Lesbian

Dating Amber Hasenkamp

Family: Kaeya Alberich-Ragnvindr (FF Brother), Mika Schmidt (FF Brother)

Best Friend: Jean Gunnhildr

I don't have many thoughts about Eula tbh, I always kinda forget she exists.

She has BPD and depression. She often loses sleep trying to figure out how to make people like her.

She spars with Kaeya all the time to try and hone her sword skills. She never spars with him using her claymore, though. She doesn;t want to remind him of the fight with Diluc.

She sees Mika as a little brother, though Mika always gets nervous when she's around. She tries to be super nice to him, though. She's also helped him learn techniques that help with his anxiety.

Albedo Kreideprinz

they/he/she/it

~24 physically, possibly 500+

Agender, Asexual, Demiromantic, Biromantic

Dating Sucrose Hertz

Family: Rhinedottir (Mother), Durin (Brother), Fellflower (Sibling), Alice Babler (FF Aunt), Klee Babler (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Sucrose Hertz

Albedo is autistic (obviously). They hyperfocus on their projects for days at a time and forget to take care of themself. Sucrose takes it upon herself to bring them food, water, coffee, tea, meds, whatever they need. Honestly, they neglect themself so often that they'd be dead if it weren't for Sucrose.

She has a pet mouse that she keeps in the lab. She was gonna use it for an experiment, but decided against it. The mouse has been in the lab for over a year now and is named Fritz.

Albedo wears gold makeup to highlight the mark on his neck. He's extremely proud of it, as it reminds him of his imperfections. He also has golden streaks in his hair and Khaenri'ahn pupils.

He sends letters to Cyno and Tighnari. He tells Tighnari about his experiments and exchanges jokes and TCG strategies with Cyno.

Sucrose Hertz

she/they (doesn't care though)

23

Nonbinary, Bisexual

Dating Albedo Kreideprinz

Family: Klee Babler (FF Sister), Collei (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Albedo Kreideprinz

Sucrose has really bad anxiety (duh). She's also selectively mute and knows sign language. Albedo makes anxiety medicine specifically for her.

They have a crush on Rosaria, but are too afraid to say anything about it.

She has her own garden, which she grows sweet flowers in. They're her favorite type of flower. She has a separate garden that she grows fruits and vegetables in, which she donates to the Cathedral for their soup kitchen.

She sends letters to Collei talking about her experiments and experiences with anxiety, helping Collei learn how to cope with her stress.

The surname I gave her, Hertz, means heart.

Mika Schmidt

she/they

15

Transfem, Bisexual

Family: Huffman Schmidt (Brother), Eula Lawrence (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Bennett Faust

Mika is a HUGE Barbara fan, but is too scared to talk to her. She goes to all of her concerts and gives warnings to her fan club that, if they mess with her life, she WILL arrest them.

She's come close to arresting Albert more times than she can count.

They have awful anxiety. Eula helps them learn how to manage it.

Kaeya taught them how to use their vision and Rosaria taught them how to use their polearm.

I don't have many thoughts about Mika, sorry. She's one of the two four stars I don't have, so I haven't read much about her.

Rosaria Nacht

she/they/vamp

27

Transgender Woman, Aroace

Family: Varka (FF Dad), Razor (FF Brother), Barbara (FF Sister)

Best Friend: Kaeya Alberich-Ragnvindr

Okay first of all I replaced her eyes with Immernachtreich Fischl's since I don't like how her eyes are a different art style than everyone else's.

She's SUPER pale. This is due to her having anemia. She often takes iron supplements to help with this, but she's still super pale. It's also because she's a night owl and almost never gets sun. This has led to many rumors about her being a vampire, but she doesn't mind. She likes being feared.

Vamp is friends with Diluc and often gives him updates on how Kaeya's doing. Vamp is also one of the few people who knows that he's the Darknight Hero, and the two work together a lot.

They get antidepressants from Sucrose for free.

The surname I gave her, Nacht, means night watchman.

Astrologist Mona Megistus

she/they/star/starself

26

Transgender Woman, Bisexual

Family: Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort (FF Sister)

She wears a full-length dress and blue makeup. She also has glasses.

Mona works with Lisa a lot to try and cure her curse.

They have a crush on Rosaria, but aren't really interested in pursuing it, especially since they know Rosaria's aroace.

She has a pet cat named Effie. Effie is a Birman and often stays in Mona's library, sleeping on the bookshelves. Effie hates Oz and tries to eat him whenever Fischl visits.

Star graduated from the Akademiya in the Rtawahist darshan, but star also took a lot of Vahumana classes and is a licensed therapist. Star reads people's constellations and learns their pasts, then star helps them cope with any issues they have. Star also prescribes medicine if needed, sending a prescription to Sucrose and Albedo.