#controlled chaos / aes.

[surgewild]

what form of love do you embody?

LOVE AS DEVOTION / [ devotion: love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause ] when ruth said to naomi "where you go, i will go, and where you stay, i will stay. your people will be my people, and your God my God" and when hozier sang "i'll be the dreadful need from the devotee that drove [orpheus] underground" and when deathcab for cutie sang "if there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, i will follow you into the dark"

[sonics-atelier]

𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭

Unveiling ( Pun intended ) the First chapter of my A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction

𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭 , 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟏 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

For @sjmvillainweek Day 1 : Villain Origin Story

Protagonists :

( more will be revealed as the story progresses )

Ianthe - Priestess of the Spring Court. Amarantha - General of Hybern. Miryam - Slave to the Black Queen. Jurian - Spy

Relationships :

( more will be revealed as the story progresses )

Ianthe x Amarantha

Miryam x Drakon

Summary :

Ianthe has spent a lifetime yearning for escape, ever since that fateful night so many years ago. Crossing paths with Hybern’s general was never her intention, but their fates are being woven by forces far beyond her control, mere marionettes in the hands of the gods.

Miryam is driven by a singular mission: to slay the Black Queen who once enslaved her, free her fellow humans, and claim her long-awaited revenge. Yet one infuriating prince stands in her way, provoking her to the point of wanting to strangle him. Drakon, however, has never encountered anyone as wild as Miryam.

Jurian traverses the vast lands of Prythian on a noble quest, working as a spy to free the oppressed and bring justice to his people. His journey takes him into the unknown, forcing him to face both literal and inner demons, unaware that enemies are closing in on him.

Now, a new threat rises in Prythian, shaking the very foundations of the land as mountains quake and tides turn under its mysterious power. As the world teeters on the brink of chaos, will our protagonists fight for what they hold dear, or will they be swallowed by the flames of this growing darkness? Discover more as their fates unfold.

The Link

Taglist : ( dm me or send me an ask if you wish to be added / removed ), @achaotichuman , @ae-neon , @aho-dapa , @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken , @flat-neines , @merwgue , @deafeningblazecolor.

Dividers by @im4yeons <33

[lady-quen]

Verse: The Hound, The Haggard, and the Haunted

Posting an initial version of the lore being cooked between myself, @rostomanologist and @commanderteag ! The context will pretty much be necessary to understand most of the humor oscillating between these chucklefucks :) Chaos plant trio is a thing now.

The Dawnborn Maelmordha and Duskborn Kimarse have known one another since approximately 1320 AE as saplings, at least until Mael's Wyld Hunt and Kima's run-in with the Inquest ensured no further contact. The two wouldn't properly meet again until sometime after 1330 AE, during Commander Maelmordha's Elonian campaigns.

Owing to his death at the hands of Balthazar, Mael, now a lich, struggles with controlling his Diabolist powers, opting to utilize sealing tattoos and enchanted chains to stall the demon essence from consuming his soul. It was after the conflict with the War God that Maelmordha and Kimarse met again, the latter traveling in the area out of curiosity about the Awakened Inquest rampaging in Tyria.

The so-called Thanatologist caught onto the "deal" with the Pact Commander rather quickly and, armed with potential blackmail material, figured it most beneficial for them both to engage in a contract. An undying subject for the death scholar and possible help with his condition for the Commander, especially with Kimarse's Revenant former acquaintance in the picture - Noereen, haunted by the spectre of a legendary White Mantle well-versed in bloodstone magics. A bloodstone collar could be forged to act as a magic buffer, but a sample was required, and, well, with most equipment simply dissolving within the Commander's chest portal and the man himself being unable to perform the procedure, Kimarse thought it best to ward her left hand, plunge it in and hope for the best. She managed to pull out the demon core now replacing the Commander's heart for study, but lost the appendage to extreme frostbite. A tradeoff, just like Tyr lost his hand in the jaws of Fenrir - in order to apply Gleipnir.

Enter Maolmuire, a formidable Mesmer with an unsettling connection to the Dream and the sword Caladbolg.

Maolmuire of the Noon, awakened approximately 1330 AE, is a member of a cycle which suffered malformations following the Pale Mother's injury at the claws of the Shadow of the Dragon. Born with a warped right arm and a pair of wings, he stands out from his fellow sylvari, but what happened to his corporeal form is scarcely his only affliction. His connection to the Dream far too strong to the point of being unable to separate his own memories from those of its denizens, Maol's waking and sleeping moments alike are dominated by the three Knights of the Thorn: the Valiant Riannoc, the Marshal Trahearne, and the Commander, Maelmordha. The three personalities blend within him, and a destiny laid out by the Astral Ward itself sends him on a quest into the desert to find the Commander. With expert mesmeric magic, he is able to infiltrate even the Order of Shadows until he eventually confronts the Commander, now a different beast altogether than the pre-death image which yet remained of him inside the Dream.

In spite of being walking reminders of one another's worst traumas, Maelmordha and Maolmuire work together, with the former's condition and ever-fresh grief for the Pact Marshal making the burden of the lich-slaying Caladbolg infinitely heavy. Following the campaign against Palawa Joko, he attempts to return the sword, only to be met with rejection - for now. Indeed, it isn't long before the Mother receives a mysterious vision and nominates the Fourth Knight, who happens to be none other than Maolmuire himself.

The three keep in contact and work together in the future, out of selfless and selfish reasons alike.

[hanalyrata]

Devoured by Shadows, We cling to the light - Swiss/Dewdrop - Chapter 3/3

Fandom: Ghost Pairing: SwissDew

Chapter: 3/3

[AO3 Link] 

Summary: A ritual gone wrong has another entity possessing Swiss. Dew finds himself in his path.

In the depths of the Ministry, the air crackled with tension. A building thrum of magic flickering through the halls as light filtered from the ritual chamber. The light from dancing flame adorned candles cast strange shadows upon the walls and in the center of the chamber knelt Swiss. The runes around him were drawing carefully, meticulous, tracing patterns along the stone and further still up his arms. His wrists were bound, holding him in place as he drew shaky breath after shaky breath. Phantom stood nearby, his quintessence sparking faintly around him as he concentrated on the task ahead, trying to force the noise of Mountain working beside him out of his mind. The earth ghoul hovered close by, his steady hands adjusting an array of alchemical tools and materials on the table before him. His brow furrowed in concentration as he recounted each piece, each measurement of what was needed. In the corner loomed Dewdrop, his eyes trained on Swiss' form as he leaned on Rain for support. He still felt weak, his bandages freshly changed, but he refused to sit this one out. He had to be there. For Swiss. “Ready?” Mountain asked, his voice a low rumble as he looked to Phantom. Phantom swallowed hard, his face pale but determined as he nodded, “Ready.” Swiss shifted uncomfortably, his expression tense but resigned, “Whatever happens,” he said, his voice quiet, “just… don’t let it win.”

Phantom stepped forward, his quintessence sparking brighter as he raised his hands. He closed his eyes, his focus narrowing to a fine point as he reached out with his energy. It was like threading a needle through a storm—Swiss’s aura was tangled and chaotic, the thing inside him writhing and snarling like a caged beast. The air grew heavy, the candles flickering as Phantom’s quintessence flared. He clenched his fists, drawing the energy into himself and then pushing it outward in a controlled burst. The runes around Swiss began to glow, and a deep, guttural growl echoed through the chamber. Swiss jerked violently, his body convulsing as the thing inside him fought back. Phantom stumbled but didn’t falter, his hands trembling as he poured more of his energy into the ritual. His breathing began to come uneven, the task taking more from him than he'd anticipated. "Steady, Phantom," Mountain murmured, his voice calm but with a commanding edge, "You're doing fine. Keep going." The energy was volatile, unpredictable, reacting violently to the writhing shadow that clung to Swiss like a second skin. Phantom clenched his teeth, sweat dripping down his brow as he fought to maintain control. His quintessence latched onto the entity, but it resisted, thrashing and howling like a wounded beast.

“I—I can’t,” Phantom stammered, his voice trembling as his legs wobbled, “It’s too strong.”

The darkness was consuming, its presence pressing down on him like a weight he couldn’t escape. His knees buckled, and the flickering glow of his quintessence began to dim. Then, suddenly, a hand rested on his shoulder, cool and steady. Rain. “You’re not alone,” Rain said softly, his calm voice cutting through the chaos like a soothing balm. He moved beside Phantom, his other hand covering Phantom’s trembling one, “We’ve got you.” The contact sent a ripple of something grounding through Phantom’s energy, the erratic sparks stabilizing slightly as Rain lent his elemental control. Phantom drew in a shaky breath, his quintessence flaring again, but the strain remained immense. The entity inside Swiss screeched, its tendrils clawing at Phantom’s energy, trying to pull him under.

And then, faintly, another presence stirred within him. Calm, little one. A voice floated through his senses, familiar and warm as embers. Focus. You know how. Phantom’s breath caught, “Aeth?” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Rain glanced at him but didn’t speak, his hand squeezing Phantom’s in quiet reassurance. Don’t fight the storm—direct it, Aether’s voice murmured in Phantom’s mind. Feel it, guide it. You’ve got this.

Phantom took another breath, grounding himself in Rain’s presence and the faint, guiding echo of Aether’s voice. Steady. Draw it out.

With a guttural roar, the entity tore free, its shadowy mass rising into the air above Swiss. Phantom cried out, his hands trembling as the darkness thrashed wildly, seeking a new host.

A loud clatter pulled him from his fear as the vessel Mountain had prepared drew the entity in. He slammed the lid closed, the runes on its surface glowing brightly before fading to nothing. Silence. “It’s done,” Mountain said after a moment, his voice heavy with relief as he secured the vessel with another layer of alchemical wards. He turned to check on Swiss, who lay slumped in the circle, his chest heaving as he struggled to regain his breath.

Phantom sighed, letting out an exhausted laugh before he floated backwards into unconsciousness. Rain caught him with ease, lowering him to the floor, a small but proud smile curving his lips, "You did so well."

Dew was already moving, staggering to Swiss’s side despite Rain’s protests. He knelt beside him, his hand reaching out to brush Swiss’s damp hair back from his face, “Hey,” Dew murmured, his voice trembling with relief, “You’re okay. It’s gone.”

Swiss’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and red-rimmed but clear. He looked at Dew, his gaze filled with exhaustion and guilt, “Dew… I—” His voice broke, and he reached out weakly, his fingers brushing against Dew’s. “Don’t,” Dew interrupted, his voice firm despite the emotion in it, "You’re back. That’s all that matters.” Swiss swallowed hard, his hand gripping Dew’s tightly. After a moment he nodded, his voice barely a whisper, “Thank you.”

He looked over to Rain, his eyes flickering down to Phantom who was still asleep, "How is he?"

"Exhausted, but he's alright, just needs some sleep." He stood, drawing Phantom into his arms as if he weighed nothing, "He will be fine, Swiss."

Swiss sighed in relief, allowing himself to slump against Dewdrop. Dewdrop curled his arms around Swiss on instinct, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He found himself looking up again at the other ghouls as they began to shuffle away from the scene. He caught Mountain's eye, a nod in his direction in thanks before he left. He looked back down at Swiss, "It's okay, Swiss," he pressed another kiss to his forehead, "Rest."

Swiss nodded weakly, leaning into Dew’s touch. As the oppressive weight in the air dissipated, the room seemed to breathe again, though faint shadows clung stubbornly to the walls, a reminder of the darkness that had so nearly consumed them. But the entity was gone, sealed away and silenced. Swiss was himself again—broken, guilt-ridden, but whole. And Dew was still here, battered but unyielding. They had faced the abyss and pulled one of their own back from the edge. For now, the fight was over. The shadows would fade, and the scars would heal. They had won.

[waspsinyouryard]

I'm continuing my long trend of not editing my original pinned posts and instead making new ones. How fun.

But hi. I am Tumblr user waspsinyouryard. Tagging people scares me, but I like being tagged (and will probably participate) in things. If you like my pixel art but hate my yapping then go follow @waspsinyourartsupplies.

I have a discord too but you must be pure of heart and undergo great trials and tribulations (privately asking for it) to learn my username on that site.

My Pronouns, And Their Relative Weights:

Total Pool Size: 138

she/her: 16

it/its: 15

he/him: 14

they/them: 10

xe/xem: 4

(any pronouns): 3

ae/aer/aers/aerself: 3

fae/faer/faers/faerself: 3

thon/thons/thonself: 3

ey/em/eirs/eirself: 3

he/he/he: 2

I/my: 2

ski/bi/di: 2

the/the: 2

xey/xem: 2

(no pronouns): 1

allium/alliums: 1

American/Americans: 1

applied chaos dynamics control association/applied chaos dynamics control associations: 1

attack/helicopter: 1

beebo/beebos: 1

beep/boop: 1

boi/gurl: 1

bush/cheney: 1

buzz/hum: 1

bzz/bzz: 1

cheese/burger: 1

Chiyo/Chan: 1

cloud/cloudself: 1

cock/balls: 1

da/shit: 1

e/em/er: 1

e/o: 1

fae/faem/faeir: 1

fi/fir: 1

harris/walz: 1

in/your

ine/ines: 1

it/it/they/shem: 1

it/shoe: 1

its/thats: 1

Joe/Biden: 1

lee/way: 1

me/me: 1

moss/mosses: 1

nym/nyr: 1

penis/cock: 1

pro/noun: 1

pro/nouns: 1

rat/ratself: 1

she/ffield: 1

she/her/her/her/her/her/her/her/her/her (bear five): 1

she/sher: 1

shell/shellem: 1

shhe/herim: 1

slay/eat: 1

them/him/hers/itself (as in “I asked him what they were doing they and they said they were trying to lick her elbow without straining itself.”): 1

them/them: 1

them/they (they/them but switched): 1

They/Them (capitalized): 1

us/our: 1

wasp/wasp: 1

wasp/yard: 1

xe/xir: 1

xie/xir: 1

y'all/y'all's/partner: 1

yin/yang: 1

you/yours/yourself: 1

ze/hir: 1

zhe/zer: 1

Wish I used certain pronouns more? Less? Wish I used a pronoun set I currently don't? Just submit your favorite pronouns to the form below!

DNI

People I have blocked

Scammers that try to guilt you into donating to their "vet bills" or "hospital bills" and so on

Supporters/fans of Albert/AlbertPlaze

Glorkus and Friends antis

Glorkus antis

Glorkus and Terflor shippers

[butterflydm]

Bits and Pieces of wot 2x7

Yes, I am continuing to have more thoughts about this episode! Only show spoilers in this post!

The first time Rand gets shielded and forced away by Siuan, it puts him down on both knees. The second time, at the Waygate, he goes down to one knee and braces himself. Minor but I liked it, because it lets Moiraine and Siuan still have their confrontation but it also shows that Rand is adjusting to the sensation and processing it. It's like this time, he's keeping himself ready for the shield to be removed, part of him remembering what Moiraine had said about this feeling being temporary.

In general, the body language that is being used when Rand is shielded is fascinating. You can really see how much it's affecting Rand to be cut off from the One Power -- and Rand never would have guessed that it could possibly affect him this much, I suspect. We even see him reacting to the feeling of the shield being transferred from Leane to Verin. The second it goes away, the impact is instant once he can feel the One Power again.

I also really love the way he concentrates so hard on trying to be delicate when he's cutting the tied-up weave on Moiraine, because we can see how massive and indelicate his power is at the moment and he's focusing so much on being careful. This really was such an amazing bonding moment for Moiraine, Rand, and Lan.

I am also fascinated by how Moiraine's unwillingness to share information with the people she loves most has accidentally given them a harsher view of Rand than if she'd been honest with them. BOTH Lan and Siuan judge Rand for not 'doing his duty' because Moiraine did not tell either of them that Rand believed that he already had. Rand thought living low and staying away from the people he loved would protect them because he thought he'd already defeated the Dark One. He's been avoiding using the One Power because he thought he didn't need it anymore to face the Dark One and he didn't want to accelerate the process of going mad and hurting other people.

(and Rand doesn't correct them because he feels guilty and probably feels like he should have known that TDO wasn't really gone)

Lanfear making such a public show of striding through the Foregate and causing mayhem and destruction, knowing that the Amyrlin will realize that this destruction was meant as a distraction to help free Rand -- and then she got the unexpected boon of actually get to talk to Rand in front of said Amyrlin. But it all feels like a big ol' "The Shadow already owns the Dragon" message being deliberately sent to the White Tower.

I've mentioned that Lanfear does a good job not doing anything 'too bad' when she's actually around Rand, but the show makes a point of having Rand notice the chaos and destruction that is happening out in the city when his jail break occurs.

I'm just going to make a note as to each Sister's position on The Dragon Situation, so that I'll have it down for the next time we return to this storyline (which I suspect will be in s3):

Team Cage:

Siuan -- she feels like Moiraine failed with Rand and, after this episode, she may feel that Moiraine failed with Rand deliberately, because she may believe that Moiraine and Lan are Darkfriends. She's seen both that the Dragon doesn't have any control over his powers and that he is willing to make deals with the Forsaken.

Leane -- she seemed completely disgusted with Moiraine in the prison cell scenes, and doesn't seem thrilled with her at the start of the episode either.

Since Leane doesn't seem shocked at someone else showing up to take Rand's shield at the end of the episode, that implies that the rest of the Aes Sedai with Siuan may have been briefed on the situation after Siuan decided to pull the trigger on Plan B.

And the rest of the Aes Sedai who were on the wall to link with Siuan and put out the fire in the Foregate -- fires caused when one of the Forsaken came to help break Rand out of prison. That probably doesn't bode well for them to think kindly of Rand.

We don't have names for most of these Aes Sedai, but I saw Joiya from 2x1 there. I did not see Yacissa on the wall with Siuan. There are 8 sisters with Siuan on the wall. There were 16 total in Cairhien (who weren't Moiraine) -- 2 per Ajah plus Siuan and Leane. So that's eight who are not currently here -- this includes Liandrin, Verin, and Alanna and we know what they went off to do. Yacissa and four other Sisters are not currently accounted.

Team Dragon:

Moiraine -- I mean, we know her position. She's been extremely clear this season. "Protecting Rand, guiding him, is the only thing that matters." She has been willing to burn down everything else in her life to try to protect and guide Rand.

Verin -- almost certainly openly known to be in collaboration with Moiraine at this point; she misleads Leane into handing over Rand's shield and then Rand escapes with Moiraine. I would not recommend she stay in Cairhien or return to Tar Valon.

Alanna -- covertly helps Lan; Siuan may or may not have learned about the fact that she is Team Dragon. Does not have an opinion on Rand himself.

Team Shadow:

Liandrin -- her affiliations may or may not be revealed, depending on what Anvaere or Barthanes might report. She didn't use her name while she was in the Damodred manor but a brief description could probably pinpoint which Aes Sedai gave Barthanes his orders.

[ilikeyoualive]

Another sneak peek for the the first fic in the Primeval series because I have no sense of self-control. I'm so excited to get this fic finished and posted on AO3, but it's been a struggle to write since my motivation is being utterly uncooperative. Anyway, if any of you are interested in reading more about this AU, check out my Main Masterlist!

Word Count: 1,002

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Missions Gone Wrong, Blood and Injury

Sneak Peek Is Below The Cut:

Soap cursed when his foot caught on a wayward root for the umpteenth time in the span of three minutes, causing him to stumble forward a couple of steps before he regained his balance. Soap stopped walking with a frustrated sigh at how fast he was deteriorating, closing his eyes and tipping his head down to stare at his boots as he focused on breathing through the sharp pain radiating from his wounded side for a few moments.

Once Soap felt fairly confident that he could walk without his legs giving out on him, he opened his eyes again, his breath stalling in his chest when he was met with a concerning amount of crimson that dotted his jeans and the surrounding vegetation. He slowly lifted his gaze, his eyes widening as his gaze followed the very obvious trail of trampled plants and blood back the way he had come, his heart leaping to his throat as he realized that -in his carelessness- he’d been leaving enough evidence to lead anyone with fucking eyes directly to him.

“Fuck.” Soap said with feeling, the added stress of potentially being followed by the enemy when he was in no state to fight back was the last thing he needed right now. His breathing sped up as his eyes darted around, his mind suddenly convinced that he was about to be ambushed. One of his trembling hands subconsciously crossed over his chest in order to awkwardly hover near where the jagged fragment of shrapnel was jutting out of his skin, while the other rose to grab his radio.

“This is Soap, does anyone copy?” Soap asked in a stilted manner that was sure to tip off whoever might be listening to the fact that he wasn’t doing so well, which was why he wasn’t surprised when Price responded in a worried but authoritative manner almost immediately after his thumb lifted off the button.

“Sitrep, Sergeant.” Price demanded, though not unkindly, his quick breaths between words indicating that he was currently running. 

“I got hit. Have a nasty bit of shrapnel in my side towards my back, left a nice trail of blood for anyone with a set of eyes and common sense to follow.” Soap replied as he obsessively scanned the forest around him for movement, paying special attention to the direction he’d come from, Price grunting a low curse in response to Soap’s reluctant admittance of being injured. If it hadn’t been for the threat of enemies in the area, he would’ve been able to push through the pain and continue solo. “I was wondering if there was anyone in the area. I’m heading west, about four and a half clicks from the RV point.”

“I’m around two clicks behind you, Johnny. Bad news is that you’ve got six hostiles on your ass, I’ve been followin’ them while they track you.” Ghost piped in unexpectedly, the sudden addition of the Lieutenant’s gravelly voice in Soap’s ear catching him off-guard because it didn’t even occur to him that Ghost might’ve come after him after once he’d provided enough cover fire for Soap to make a successful escape.

It was as if Ghost had somehow known that Soap was injured in the explosion and had been taking steps to keep him safe since then, it would certainly explain why Ghost had insisted that Soap run instead of staying to issue cover fire for other soldiers that needed to get clear. The landing zone had been lost whether Soap stayed or went regardless, but the fact that Ghost had wanted Soap far away from the chaos implied that he had been aware of the wound long before Soap himself realized that he was injured.

“Shite. Cannae fight six ae them like this.” Soap said once his lagging brain processed what Ghost had just said, his eyes widening as both alarm and adrenaline surged through him. He pulled his sidearm out of its holster as he pushed off the tree, walking backwards for a few paces before finally managing to force himself to turn around, speeding up into a slow jog.

Soap knew that he wouldn’t be able to keep up the brutal pace for long, but any amount of time moving faster than a glorified shuffle would be preferable since it put more distance between him and the approaching enemies.

“Just focus on getting to exfil, Johnny. I’ll handle the hostiles.” Ghost rumbled over the line, his voice oddly distorted, and Soap’s brows furrowed as he side-eyed his radio. He hoped that the universe wasn’t about to pull another fast one on him and cut off the only direct line of communication that he had to the rest of his team, which would be icing on top of the shit cake that was his fucking day.

“Yer a true knight in shinin’ armor, Lt.” Soap mused with a weak smile, unable to help but rib at Ghost since their usual playful banter never failed to improve his mood, and he was in desperate need of a distraction from the rapidly devolving situation.

“I expect you boys to make it to exfil in one piece.” Price cut in before Ghost could respond, the stern command softened by the undertone of worry that Soap could hear in his voice.

“Understood, sir.” Soap instantly replied, dipping his chin in a determined nod even though he knew that neither man would be able to see it, it went without saying that both himself and Ghost would move both heaven and earth if it meant that the other would continue breathing.

“Affirmative.” Ghost replied a moment later before directing his full attention to Soap now that Price had said his piece and seemed to be done with discussing the matter. “Just keep moving, Johnny. I’ll catch up with you."

“Lookin’ forward tae our tearful reunion, Lt.” Soap said playfully, eagerly awaiting Ghost’s response, which crackled through the radio without missing a beat the moment that his thumb released the button.

“Piss off.”

[windy-trickster]

Memories of The Past: Morana Vimura

TW: Gun violence, character death, manipulation

Morana stood alone in her kitchen, humming softly to herself as she chopped up some mushrooms for a little stew she was preparing. Having checked the mushrooms thoroughly, looking through her various notes onto how to prepare them, she was certain she'd make something wonderful for herself. It was normally always quiet where the Burgundy blood, rarely any noise from her other lowblood neighbors or even just the world around them. Quiet. Peaceful. Just how she liked it. The serenity in the silence, the calm amongst the chaos of the outside world. This was a good life, at least for her. She grabbed the ladle and gently blew on it, the savory aroma of mixed mushrooms and fresh herbs hit her nose, making her smile as she took a small sip from the utensil, humming softly in contemplation. Needed a little more rosemary, in her opinion. She rested her ladle on the counter before shuffling over to her spice rack, reaching for the bottle of rosemary. Knock knock. The Burgundy blood jumped a little at the noise, turning her head towards where the front door was. She adjusted her spiral glasses and quietly hurried over. She grabbed the doorknob and opened the dark oak door slightly, noticing a familiar leather jacket and dark blue sunglasses standing outside. “Ae↓her...? Wha↓ are you doing all ↓he way ou↓ here?” The Midnight blood smiled and gently knocked on the door with his knuckle, cooing softly at the lowblood. "I c a me to see my f a vorite little lowblood. C a n't I not do th a t, sweetpusher?" Morana blushed at the sweet words and giggled softly, grabbing one of her long ponytails in embarrassment. Oh how his words always seemed to make her melt on the spot. "You gonn a let me in, doll? Or a re y a gonn a let me freeze to de a th out here?" Morana moved aside and opened the door properly, letting the Midblood into her hive. Aether always made her bloodpusher skip a couple beats. He was so handsome, so charming and, to her at least, the definition of a bad boy with a heart of gold. She always felt safe around him, like nothing could hurt her. But sadly, her feelings would ultimately be the death of her. Aether hummed and turned to face the lowblood, smiling sweetly at her. He took her hand in his and pulled her close to his body. "You'd do a nything for me, wouldn't you, sweetpusher? You've a lw a ys been there when I needed you. So you'll do my a f a vor, ye a h?" Morana felt her cheeks burn with blush, nodding along as Aether spoke. Of course, she'd do anything for him! Why wouldn't she? Aether's always protected her, made her feel safe and sound in a world that was so big and scary. "Then close your eyes, de a r. I h a ve a surprise for you." Morana did as she was told. But her eyes weren't closed for long. They snapped open violently as she felt a sudden pain in her stomach, her hands clamping down over the bullet wound in her stomach. She looked up, her glasses now askew on her face. Aether was just smiling at her, his sign glowing brightly against his forehead. Morana hadn't realized she'd been under his control until this moment. All of those feelings for him, a simple fabrication forced upon her by someone who only needed her because she was too nice. She felt her warm body slowly grow colder and colder until she fell to the ground, bleeding out on her shaggy black carpet.

[vinjaryou]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

tagged by @razerathane - thank you~!

1: How many works do you have on AO3/fanfiction.net?

On AO3: 57 I don't remember my ff.net login, it's been so long.

2: What's your total Ao3/fanfiction.net word count?

172,928 words

3: What fandoms do you write for?

Now I focus mainly on the Compilation of FFVII (again), but I have written for Legend of Zelda, Tekken, Sonic the Hedgehog, Yu-Gi-Oh, some FFIX, and some GetBackers and Higurashi.

4: What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

two guys and a gondola (Barret & Cloud)

reunions & new beginnings (a touch of VinVeld)

Control, or The Lack Thereof (written for Chaos Theory)

a nice, quiet country life (Zack/Aerith, hinted Zack/Aerith/Cloud)

a lost art (Sephiroth/Genesis)

5: Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I should, and I did for a bit before stopping. Mostly because I get shy, but I promise to try to get better about it.

6: What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably 'etched in glass,' since it centers around Vincent flashing back to an incident in Hojo's laboratory. There's also 'welcome to my nightmare,' which features Vincent losing control of Hellmasker in the midst of battle…

7: What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

'three little words.' Hands down. There's even a beautiful piece I commissioned to go with it~

8: Do you get hate on fics?

I think I got one comment that was just "uh, what," and I shrugged it off. I don't write popular enough pairings regularly enough to get hate, methinks.

9: Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Mainly VinRei (my canon/OC pair), and it literally goes from sweet to racy. I've written sweet lovemaking, and Chaotic semi-monsterfucking.

10: Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I used to because I was in LJ roleplay communities years ago, and a lot of crackships were forged there. Vincent/Nabooru, Ban Midou/Rider (GetBackers/Fate Stay Night), angsty Dark Link & Aerith, a twisted father/daughter relationship between Akabane & Rena Ryuugu (GB and Higurashi), Kadaj and Rinoa were getting cute, and then there was the big sister/little brother dynamics of Cain and Nabooru (GodChild and Zelda: OoT)… I think I have a list somewhere of all the crackships and friendships between characters, lol

I do have an idea for a one-off crossover fight piece that I've discussed with a friend… stay tuned~

11: Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so, but now I'm feeling a little paranoid…

12: Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope. Well, not that I know of.

13: Have you ever co-written a fic before?

My late best friend and I co-wrote Zelda and Yu-Gi-Oh crackfics all throughout high school and college; never published because we did it just for fun and for our friend group, and I still have it all, including a bunch of artwork she did for them.

14: What's your all time favorite ship?

Vincent/Reilena, my FFVII canon/OC ship.

15: What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Both 'Sands of Desire' (a YGO AE canon/OC fic I was writing, and suddenly dropped; to this day I still know exactly how I would end it) and 'Bleeding Angel' (Tekken, OCs, spanned Tekken 3, Tag, and 4, but I quit writing it when 5 came out).

'Sweet Lady Luck' is the Final Fantasy VII Casino AU that I keep posting little scenes for, that I swear I will get started posting actual chapters for THIS FUCKING YEAR, because I have so much planned for it, and I love it and them so much. So that is a WIP that I WILL finish, come hell or high water.

16: What are your writing strengths?

Characterization and emotion; I think I have a pretty good grip of character personalities.

17: What are your writing weaknesses?

Sometimes dialogue or just knowing when to END a scene.

18: Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I used to be super cheesy about it (think old-school fansubs lol), now I try not to do it altogether; if it happens, the dialogue will be put in brackets to designate it as being in another language. If you can get it to work though, that's awesome~

19: First fandom you wrote for?

Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time

20: Favorite fic you've written?

Honestly? Right now it's tied between 'three little words' and 'when chaos and passion collide.' Both VinRei pieces, one sweet and emotional, the other smutty and emotional.

Feel free to snag this if interested!

[alectology-archive]

@simonimonim I hope you don’t mind that I took a screenshot to respond because my reply got long - I’ll just address your points:

however distasteful the task undertaken by the red ajah, it was still essential - otherwise the world would have been subjected to perpetual upheaval and chaos. there were absolutely male channelers who kept their head down and managed to survive, obviously, but by and large most of them were ticking time bombs and the red ajah just prioritised the survival of the masses compared to the individual. what moreso deserves criticism is the red ajah being sicced on the asha’man by elaida - and again, they were only acting on her orders. I also personally believe that it’s important to afford the red ajah more sympathy than you ordinarily might while critiquing them because rj wrote them very badly in the first half of the series with their primary personality being ‘the man-hating faction’ of the white tower.

but… no one knows much about the breaking in the continent. aes sedai know more than most, but still not much. their knowledge of the breaking wouldn’t really have helped the aes sedai deal with the problems that they do on a regular basis. you can’t blame them for the knowledge that was lost - the reason anything managed to be preserved from the AoL was because of them. the sort of information from pre-breaking that rand needed was only known to lews therin anyway.

any group of powerful people always keeps secrets. an institution should be answerable to the people it governs, but a lot of the time the aes sedai don’t communicate with the protagonists simply because they don’t have any proof that they can handle a situation better than they can - and the aes sedai actually have the benefit of experience and knowledge on their side. besides, RJ loved working with miscommunication and a withholding of critical information which also informs the degree to which the characters share secrets in the books.

the white tower’s secrecy was never really an issue except when elaida was in control and making bad decisions. the black ajah was actually responsible for the murder spree. the red ajah is not given the permission to kill people any time in the books.

not necessarily true that only egwene could have stopped it! it’s a canon fact. there were a lot of competent aes sedai in the group - siuan herself was one of the reasons egwene could keep her position - but egwene was raised as amyrlin in the hope that different factions could make a puppet out of her to transfer blame to her in case their rebellion against elaida failed. this is a common problem with any powerful institution generally speaking and is not unique to the aes sedai, though. if there were a lot of incompetent aes sedai in the hall, it was orchestrated by the black ajah and isn’t a systemic problem with the white tower itself.

[lexicals]

You can finally do readmores on mobile which means I am unstoppable. Atsv spoilers below I am sharing my thoughts

1. EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO THE RIGGERS COMPOSITING ARTISTS VFX ARTISTS ETC. THE ANIMATORS DID AN AMAZING JOB OFC BUT THE TECHNICAL WORK ON THIS FILM IS UNBELIEVABLE

2. I knew I was gonna love hobie but I adore hobie. I love how I knew from minute one this guy knew what was up and was out to shake things up. I'm so excited to see more of him in the next one

3. SPEAKING OF. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU GAVE ME HALF A MOVIE SONY. This is not an actual complaint I understand why this was done this way but man give me some WARNING THAT I'M GONNA LEAVE WITH IT ALL UNRESOLVED

4. I love pavitr I love spiderbyte I love all the new spideys so much. Most importantly I LOVE THAT GWEN GOT SO MUCH TIME DEDICATED TO HER. IT'S WHAT SHE DESERVES

5. I really really enjoy the setup of miles being framed as a force of chaos especially compared to a lot of much more put together spider people and having miguel as a foil because he's all about control!! The first part of the film builds up to the reveal so well that I was ready for it in a good way it felt right for him and right for the narrative. Miles' thing in itsv has always been about carving your own narrative and your own way of doing things so it's cool that atsv expands on and really doubles down on it

6. Atsv said cops are always gonna be cops first and good cops quit! I don't think their handling was perfect but I appreciate that much at least

7. God the movement. The visuals. The everything. I want to print this film out frame by frame and wallpaper my house with it

8. When are we gonna find out who the little lady with the heart glasses is huh. I feel like she's kept appearing but there's no actual explanation as to who she is. I'm watching that!

9. I have to include a negative. I really hated the live action inclusions. They felt really jarring and just like something to appease the mcu fans which is not what I'm looking for in these films. Just kind of unnecessary and didn't really add anything imo

10. All! The callbacks!! To itsv!!! Fuck man idk if it's just me being someone who's seen that film 50+ times but there were so many little things I was going nuts. Like obviously there were some really big ones but the ones that were subtle visual callbacks specifically had me leaving this mortal plane. The one sticking in my brain rn is miles taking the glass with him when he jumps again but also the being tied to the punching bag and the running upside down over the crossing at his school and the pigeons and

11. The spot is suuuuch a good villain for miles. He's not supposed to be there.... he initially doesn't seem all that important. And he's a chaotic villain for miles the chaotic hero, I love that

12. The anti establishment narrative. Chef kiss. Yes. Question the rules!! Who says this has to be the way!! Pavitr's "I can do both" hobie's "know what you're fighting against"!! Yelling screaming

13. I can't believe I got to 13 of these but also yes I can. Bro the fuckin queer allegories ae you kidding. The not being able to tell your parents the "finding others like you who understand" it feels so obvious but I have to say it anyway

I feel like I'm gonna have more to say as my brian keeps chewing and I'm DEFINITELY going to go watch again asap but in summary AAAAAAAAA

[surgewild]

tags post

[sonics-atelier]

𝐕𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐭

Welcome to the second chapter of my ACOTAR fanfic Veil of Deceit - 𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈 : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 : 𝐀 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

Protagonists :

( more will be revealed as the story progresses )

Ianthe - Priestess of the Spring Court. Amarantha - General of Hybern. Miryam - Slave to the Black Queen. Jurian - Spy

Relationships :

( more will be revealed as the story progresses )

Ianthe x Amarantha

Miryam x Drakon

Summary :

Ianthe has spent a lifetime yearning for escape, ever since that fateful night so many years ago. Crossing paths with Hybern’s general was never her intention, but their fates are being woven by forces far beyond her control, mere marionettes in the hands of the gods.

Miryam is driven by a singular mission: to slay the Black Queen who once enslaved her, free her fellow humans, and claim her long-awaited revenge. Yet one infuriating prince stands in her way, provoking her to the point of wanting to strangle him. Drakon, however, has never encountered anyone as wild as Miryam.

Jurian traverses the vast lands of Prythian on a noble quest, working as a spy to free the oppressed and bring justice to his people. His journey takes him into the unknown, forcing him to face both literal and inner demons, unaware that enemies are closing in on him.

Now, a new threat rises in Prythian, shaking the very foundations of the land as mountains quake and tides turn under its mysterious power. As the world teeters on the brink of chaos, will our protagonists fight for what they hold dear, or will they be swallowed by the flames of this growing darkness? Discover more as their fates unfold.

The Link

Taglist : ( dm me or send me an ask if you wish to be added / removed ), @achaotichuman , @ae-neon , @aho-dapa , @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken , @flat-neines , @merwgue , @deafeningblazecolor.

Dividers by @im4yeons <33

[aceofthegreenajah]

So. Season 1 had a theme of ‘what do we have to sacrifice for the world/our destiny’.

Moiraine and Siuan lose each other; Rand’s future family and home; Perrin lost his wife and the future with her; Egwene lost a romantic relationship with Rand; Nynaeve lost the position of authority she holds at home; Mat could no longer look after his sisters; all of the two rivers kids lost the home they love.

(Now that I list them the girls kinda got off lightly.)

So I was walking home from work and thinking what could be a similar thematic link for season 2. And this is barely ten minutes old so I haven’t probably thought it through yet, but I was thinking -

‘What are the consequences of trying to evade your destiny’

Rand is pretty sure his desiny is over and done with and when it comes calling, he’s not gonna be happy.

AND Rand also has the additional bonus sideplot - trying to avoid and not understanding daes dae’mar leads to some shitty stuff (Thom’s girlfriend dying -> Cairhien’s king dying -> Cairhien in chaos and in famine and in civil war).

(Not that I’m saying it’s entirely his fault, but you know, it’s easy enough to tweak that so that it is!)

Egwene is super reluctant to let go of RAND, and that is in canon used to lure her out of the tower and into a trap. SO.

Mat is Mat. Either Min gives him visions or he finds the red stone doorway in tar valon, and off we go, running in the opposite direction!

Nynaeve is not going to be eager to be an Aes Sedai. Maybe she refuses to learn something (or just doens’t put her all into it) and that comes up later, when she would super need that thing!

Perrin has multiple options. The obvious one is just wolf stuff, which he is not eager to embrace.

But he also has some major trauma about fighting, maybe he stands back and tries to be non-violent at the exact wrong moment. He has relationship trauma, maybe he runs into faile and pushes her away and that leads to something.

Elayne is not reluctant to rule or anything, but her leaving the tower leads to Andor being a mess. And her not trusting Gawyn leads to Gawyn making some major mistakes. Maybe her not trusting Galad pushes Galad towards the whitecloaks? There’s stuff to play with, I’m saying.

Moiraine is - maybe reluctant to confide in Rand, trying too hard to control him, which just pushes him away? Or something Cairhien, she could have taken over and it wouldn’t be such a mess. 

Aviendha has been reluctant to learn channeling!

All of them have something to be super reluctant to pursue, even if some of them fit the theme neater than others. IF we just figure out bad consequences for everyone’s hesitation, we’re set!

[apocalypsewriters]

I posted 423 times in 2022

46 posts created (11%)

377 posts reblogged (89%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ambersky0319

@writing-is-a-martial-art

@enchanted-lightning-aes

@ashen-crest

@ellierenae

I tagged 406 of my posts in 2022

Only 4% of my posts had no tags

#chaos queue - 208 posts

#others work - 39 posts

#writeblr - 18 posts

#my writing - 18 posts

#ask - 17 posts

#ask game - 15 posts

#writing positivity - 14 posts

#good soup - 14 posts

#a quest of cards and calamity wip - 13 posts

#writing resources - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 121 characters

#this does happen prior to the main narrative so he knows his stance on attraction and relationships as much as anyone can

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

A/N: After about a month and a half wait, I have finally plucked up the courage to post part 2!! After this there are only 3 more sections and if i feel like breaking some hearts, an alternate ending

prev ; next

Part II: Catch

Bella tugged at her hood. Despite knowing it concealed her face well with the deep shadow created in the dim light, she needed something to do with her hands and hoped it would be succinct and subtle enough to not be noteworthy.

She jumped as Manic Alchemist spoke, ripping her hands away and tucking them together in her lap. He sat halfway across the room from her, legs crossed and leaning against an ebony high backed chair that screamed try-hard villain. “This is a surprisingly impromptu meeting for you,” he said, smooth and undaunted. Anyone who heard about him before actually hearing him was always surprised by the disconnect between his diction and his voice - a teenager with the everyday language of a college lecture. 

“Well,” Bella, the Crimson Programmer, said, fumbling. She was always terrible at lying with short notice. Twisting the finger of her new glove with her bare hand, she continued, “Sometimes I worry about you, squirt. Your ego took quite the beating this weekend. Maybe you need more of my tech to supplement your talents.” With a quiet pop as the Crimson Programmer squeezed her wrists, hidden capsules released a swarm of Crimson Nanites into the room. Perhaps her fiddling could pass the movement off as a nervous gesture.

Meanwhile, Manic Alchemist bristled at her jab. “Thank you for the offer,” he said, “but I don’t have the budget for any upgrades at the moment. You have a steep price.”

The Crimson Programmer forced lightness into her voice, saying, “Come on. Isn’t it worth it for the fee? I’m top of the line. You were lucky to find me.” She was desperately stalling for time. The cluttered room would increase travel time for the nanites. Disguised by her hood and minimal self control keeping her head trained on Manic Alchemist, her eyes sporadically flickered from the bots to him. Distantly she wondered what Zach would think. He obviously assumed she would use the glove she showed him, maybe other equipment she’d developed in his company, to apprehend a B-list villain. Theoretically, she could, but it was just so much easier to use her nanites. She was using the latest version, 6.3, which was exclusively for her personal use, since it was still in beta and far too dangerous and useful to put in anyone else’s hands. Besides, she deserved to treat herself with one of a kind new toys every once in a while. 

“Maybe,” Manic Alchemist said, breaking through her train of thought. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I have no money to spare! As you said so subtly, my attack this weekend failed, so everything I risked was lost.” Lights began flickering at the edge of the room; he was getting dangerously ticked off. While his anger would make him less observant, it would dramatically increase his likelihood of storming off or driving her out, and that would doom the easy picking he served as one of her more docile contacts.

“Don’t worry,” she said, trying to smooth over his frustration. “You can get new equipment on credit. Interest rates are very low, especially for regular high-paying customers like you, and I already have some updates planned for what you’ve purchased from me already.”

Manic Alchemist drummed his fingers on the sliver of free space at the table he sat at and said simply, “Perhaps.” The heat had drained from him, but his outburst had left both of them on edge, tense in biting, barely sustained diplomacy. 

At the prompting of a beep updating the Crimson Programmer on the Nanites’ progress, she jumped in. “Say that you did get the updates. For a reduced price, even. What would you do then?” She hoped the usual tactic of getting the Alchemist to talk about himself would be distraction enough. He loved gloating, even if he would never  admit it. Thankfully for his own sake, he only did it in secure spaces where he was sure no one would interrupt the schemes he revealed. Though amusing, it was embarrassing to watch villains monologue in front of heroes that would then effortlessly defeat them after the villains revealed their plans. 

Slowly at first, almost as though skepticism and tension from earlier was holding him back, Manic Alchemist began talking, which quickly became ranting, about his grand plans. He continued speaking while the Crimson Programmer barely paid attention to him as she glanced constantly at her overengineered watch that was receiving updates about the Nanites’ status. It was agonizing, watching them creep across the room, hindered by Manic Alchemist’s mess. They flickered in and out of sight, climbing the wreckage of experiments, hiding behind trash cans littering the floor, avoiding piles of unidentifiable goo. There was no clock on the wall, so the Crimson Programmer was certain time was flowing slower than molasses, taunting her with the potential of failure. What if he saw the nanites crawling across the room? Surely he would with their snail-like pace. 

Finally, finally, they reached Manic Alchemist’s scuffed and stained boots. So as to not make their presence immediately obvious, the Crimson Programmer tore her eyes away from the bots and forced herself to look Alchemist in the face without cringing away from the possibility of eye contact. Her subtly inclined head might tip him off otherwise. 

Now sitting forward, his black eyes glittered with passion, frenzy, delight, as he monologued about his ambitions for tearing apart chunks of the city. It was impossible to tune back into what Manic Alchemist said, so the Programmer just watched his hands fly, darting out and mimicking patrol routes and flight paths and explosions. It was strangely endearing. Absently, she wondered how she ended up working so closely on a regular basis with teenagers. One of his hands abruptly stilled and jerked to his scalp. Risking a glance at her watch, the Crimson Programmer saw the bots were almost in place. Manic Alchemist’s fingers continued to reach towards the Nanites. A few more millimeters and the plan would fall apart. 

There were no contingencies for her to fall back on.

“Hey!” the Crimson Programmer said, lurching forward and brandishing her glove-clad hand in his face. “You should see my newest project.”

Manic Alchemist froze, dropping his hands away from his head and leaning farther forward, eyes narrowed, intrigued. The Crimson Programmer barely withheld a sigh of relief. If he suspected anything from her interruption, he held back, likely his curiosity triumphing over any other trains of thought. Impatiently, he waved his hand in her direction, prompting her to continue.

“You see, there are chips in the fingers with wireless probes that detect and hijack electrical currents,” explained the Crimson Programmer. “The signals feed through the wires…” She trailed off, waiting for him to catch on, hoping the time he took to connect the dots would be enough for the Crimson Nanites to lock in position.

“And you can take control of whatever you’re holding with the glove. That’s brilliant!” Manic Alchemist said after a few seconds, sounding impressed, for once. Technology wasn’t his strong suit, and he was loathe to admit his shortcomings. 

“Thank you.”

“Aren’t you going to elaborate?”

“No,” the Crimson Programmer said as her watch buzzed, signaling the Nanites were in place. “I don’t need to stall for time anymore.”

“What? So none of your offers… What have you done?” Manic Alchemist said, panicking. His face was pale and strikingly obvious in the gloomy light. She had never seen him so unsettled, so scared.

“I'm sorry. Good night, my friend,” she said, the last two words dripping with mockery. With that, the Crimson Programmer pressed the capsules on her wrists again. Manic Alchemist stiffened, spasming once as his nervous system was tapped into, and collapsed bonelessly into his chair. If her ambitions weren’t on the line, she would have pitied his helpless form. “You were just too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

prev ; next

8 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

#4

encouraged by @pagesofcursive and spurred on by my own brainrot for my new characters, here’s a short story inspired by a combination of one word september prompts from @nosebleedclub 

the words were dead insects, spear, and hero, with cuckoo from here

The shrill cry of infants made it hard for Cuckoo to be heard. At least their cries drowned out the discomfort of the hoard in front of her. That afternoon, Cuckoo had been put in charge of seven children; whether they belonged to her parents or her aunts and uncles, she didn’t know. It didn’t really matter, at this point. They were all her responsibility to keep out of trouble — no getting hurt and no getting in the way. Cuckoo herself should have been looked after at the tender age of five and two thirds, but her unfortunate streak of independence had left her caring for the toddlers.

Sighing with too much world weariness, Cuckoo grabbed a dead beetle from the corner of the room. It was brittle and almost turning to dust in her fingers, its wings papery and shattered. It likely starved to death in a home that had barely enough food for the people living in it, let alone pests. She crammed a tiny twig into one of its claws, wrinkling her nose when the claw broke before trying the other. Unfazed by the sheer grime on the floor, she swept up a pile of dead ants behind the beetle armed with a spear. Directly across from the necromancer general and his hoard of undead soldiers, Cuckoo set up a dragonfly with only three wings. She outfitted the brave warrior with two spears, making it a much more helpful and willing toy combatant.

Cuckoo loosed a piercing whistle, drawing the attention of the smaller children, who were breaking from the listless staring and beginning to wander off. Just in time she began her tale, swooping up the opposing warriors in grimy fists.

“Once upon a time, there was a great but tragic hero facing off against an army that took all his red bean paste…”

Many years later...

Hands cradling the back of Cuckoo’s neck and propping up her head where she lay on the ground, Cuckoo gazed into the middle distance. Her attention shifted to staring up at the insects dancing with motes of sparks on the fire, riding the hot gusts of air. Her companions rested nearby, warmed by the fire. It was quiet, save for the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle of a lizard in grass. Flying near the hypnotic lick of flames, the bugs reminded her of evenings in the mud and fallen spices of her home.

Cuckoo wished she could say she missed it. Her home life was stifling, though, and her talents were wasted in that squalor. She missed the guarantee of love from a family, but what was love compared to glory.

On a quest of her own, fighting battles of her own, Cuckoo wondered. Was she now a hero with beetle wings and a weapon of leaves and twigs?

8 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

#3

See the full post

9 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

#2

A Pile of Sticks and Leaves

A/N: I was inspired by someone’s snippet of writing, but it’s been a while so I don’t remember who it was. Thank you for sparking this bundle of awkwardness that is my three babis trying to show affection

Summary: Zach decides Bella and Freddie are starved of affection and it’s his responsibility to correct that

Muscles screaming, Bella sank to the floor, leaning against the beaten-up sofa that still smelled funky even after hosing it into oblivion. She sighed heavily, head tipping back to rest on the seat of the couch, and tried to make herself comfortable but was thwarted by the low angle she sat at. The top of the sofa seemed too far away to move to.

Her eyes drifted shut momentarily, but they snapped open when Zach set his head on her thigh. Stiffening, Bella leveled a scalding glare at him but was exhausted beyond the point of caring to make him move. He met her gaze unflinchingly, cheek pillowed on her leg. A beat, then another. Breaking eye contact, having finished his assessment of her, Zach shifted, rolled, stood. Bella’s eyes followed where his feet pointed; Freddie sat peacefully on the fraying armchair in the corner of the room, which was in line with the kitchen, reading his recently liberated comic. A few weeks ago, after claiming the chair as solely his own, he had dragged it over to its current position to pick at half-prepared food and watch Bella cook. He claimed his new view was to make sure she wouldn’t kill him with terrible cooking. He was lying.

Zach stalked over to where Freddie was curled up. He leaned down. Freddie startled. Murmuring in Freddie’s ear, he waited for a nod, grabbed a slip of paper from the closest part of the dinged-up kitchen bench, slotted it into Freddie’s page in the comic, and slid the comic onto the bench. Perched in the same position, Freddie side-eyed Zach, making no move even as his hand was taken and tugged at. Intrigued, Bella watched on. Zach, his face blank and eyes bright, pulled more insistently. Still, Freddie didn’t budge. Having lost his patience, Zach huffed, stooped down, and effortlessly scooped Freddie up, who squawked indignantly. Tiredness made it easy for Bella to feign indifference as a smirk played at the edges of her mouth.

“Put me down!”

“Just give me a second.” Zach’s expression grew strained as he tried not to drop Freddie who writhed desperately in his grip. Reaching Bella, he tucked Freddie into her side. At the contact, the pair went immediately rigid. They would have made a good foundation for a campfire. “There, see?” Zach said, somewhat triumphant.

As Freddie overcame his shock he made to stand up. His escape attempt was foiled by Zach who had resumed his position on Bella’s lap and thrown an arm across Freddie’s chest. Groaning, Freddie settled stiffly back into his spot.

The fridge sputtered in its whirring across the room. Across the room, a hung-up shirt whispered to the floor as it succumbed to gravity. Silence stretched through the room. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Freddie mulled over the four conflicting angles disrupting the contact between his left side and Bella’s right. Zach’s arm went limp over his middle, pale fingers brushing his forearm. Not daring to move, Freddie flicked his eyes over to where Zach lay. He was twisted awkwardly over Bella’s legs, one hand over hers, laying on his back with his right shoulder draped over her knees to reach his frustratingly long arm around Freddie. Heart clenching strangely, Freddie dropped his head onto Bella’s shoulder and attempted to slump down to match her posture. It made his back hurt but, regardless, he continued.

Feeling Freddie relax, if oddly, Zach smiled and readjusted. He gave Bella’s hand an apologetic squeeze and began repositioning himself. Now he lay almost parallel to her, his upper back over her legs, curving one arm up towards Freddie. In silent acknowledgment of Zach’s gesture, Freddie laced a few fingers through his, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows pinched but otherwise wearing a serene expression. Bella’s hand drifted to lay on his shoulder and Zach smiled lazily.

He hadn’t done this since Ethan. Just sitting together in semi-comfortable silence, as your breathing was a little too loud, but so was everyone else’s, which made it okay. Your joints would get stiff after a while, but it was worth it to just exist close to each other. You could stop running, stop hiding, and just be. Just lie with people you cared about, all in a pile, seated on the cold concrete floor of a stranger’s basement, surrounded by things you made, things you found, things you treasured.

17 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I’m a writer. I can’t spell

49 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[howwelldoyouknowyourmoon]

Intro to Part 1:

In Seoul, South Korea, in 1954, Sun Myung Moon founded the Holy Spirit Association for the Unification of World Christianity, a new religious institution that would quickly become known as the Unification Church, and one of the biggest cults in modern history. Adherents would come to be known as "Moonies," following the controlling teachings a man who considered himself a new Jesus. Sexual rituals, physical and psychological abuse, financial corruption, and so much more follow in this real life soap opera of a story.

Intro to Part 2:

Today we conclude yesterday's wild exploration of the cult Sun Myung Moon founded in Seoul, South Korea, in 1954. Moon's corruption and insanity finally begin to catch up with him before his death sends the empire he built into chaos. Also – Black Heung Jin may be the most entertaining character I've ever come across in any of these episodes. I wish we knew SO much more about his crazy ass. Hail Nimrod!

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Black Heung Jin Nim – Violence in the Moon church

The Tragedy of the Six Marys VIDEO transcript in English

Sun Myung Moon’s Ejaculate in the Holy Wine of the Unification Church

Japanese woman recruited by the Unification Church and sold to an older Korean farmer

Soon-ae Hong (the mother of Hak Ja Han) spent two years in Chuncheon Prison after Ansu beating an 18-year old boy to death.

Nansook Hong, transcripts of three interviews, including ‘60 Minutes’

Nansook Hong In The Shadow Of The Moons, part 1

Sam Park, Moon’s secret son, reveals hidden history (2014)

After Sun Myung Moon’s help, North Korea Launch an SLBM Missile on October 2, 2019

Moon’s first wife, Choi Seon-gil, and Kim Deok-jin interviewed

Sun Myung Moon’s secret love child – Mother Jones link

The Tragedy of the Six Marys website

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Comments:

I went to Bard College back in the late 70s, not far from the Barrytown Moonie compound. I have a zillion hysterical stories about the war between the Bardians and Moonies back then. Just recently, Bard bought their old compound… git even yet? lol

That's crazy I lived in the New Yorker dorm rooms my junior year of college. Shitty hotel.

I grew up near the Moonie mansion! They terrified me! They were everywhere always handing out flowers. They were so weird and spacey! My mother told me they were brainwashed, at a little kid I thought it was a literal thing, which was super creepy to me!

I was actually approached by a Moonie when I was in college in little Erie, Pennsylvania back in 1984 or 85. They gave me the song and dance first of a friendly group who got together a couple times a week and I should come and see what I thought. I can't remember what I thought of the idea, but at the end they asked what I thought of Rev. Sun Myung Moon and I said "Not much". Our little talk ended quickly. I have always been glad I knew enough or was just lucky enough not get pulled into that cult. I was young, innocent and questioning religion enough that it could have happened. That terrifies me, even more after this episode. Thanks as always Suckmaster. Never thought I'd actually have a personal experience with anything to do with a Timesuck topic.