#ess writes

[ess-presso]

wolfstar fluffy blanket!

wolfstar + fluffy blanket

———

Never trust the British Weather.

It's what Sirius has always said , time and time again , and it has been one of the most pleasant moments of his life to be proven right , yet again.

It's James's fault , really. He knows , and Sirius knows , and the entire Quidditch Team knows , that just because it was sunny in the morning , doesn't mean it's going to sunny in the evening. He's actually pretty sure that he saw some of those giant stormy Cumulus clouds earlier , but when he mentioned it to James at dinner , he simply rolled his eyes and said that Sirius was simply trying to make up any excuse possible to not be off the field.

Which he absolutely was , but it’s insulting that James would think that.

He then went on to say that if Sirius said even one more time that he thought he was coming down with the dragon pox , or that the sky was looking a ‘little too blue’ , he’ll absolutely kick him off the team.

Which , again , insulting.

What’s the point of having a Quidditch Captain as his best friend , if there’s no favouritism going on ?

No nepotism ?

He even considered blackmailing James with the old ‘I thought you loved me’ , but James had already leaped away from the table when he was just about to try it - as if , he already knew what was coming. As if he was avoiding it.

And now ? Now , just like Sirius said , the rain has soaked them to the bone. They’re trekking up the stairs in their quidditch gear - all wet and soggy and weighing something like ten tonnes.

But at least Sirius gets bragging rights. And he absolutely is going abuse the leg up this gives him on James - he’ll say that he’s a seer , that he can predict the future and if James doesn’t drink all that scalding hot tea in the next thirty seconds , he’ll never end up with Lily Evans.

He can just imagine it now.

Almost as soon as they reach the tower , Marlene vaults up to the girls dorm , to take a nap - but Sirius knows full well she’s going to wake up in the middle of their Potions lesson tomorrow and come hurtling down , hair unkempt , probably still in soaking wet Quidditch Gear. James mumbles something about giving his broomstick a polish then going to bed , and Sirius is about to follow him , when a slight movement in the corner of the room stops him.

He looks , closer , at the armchair next to the hearth of the fire , and he spots a lump sitting - sleeping , rather , legs crossed , hunched up , shoes still on .

It takes a single stray brown curl to let him know that it’s his lump in that chair. His face softens interminably.

It’s always him , isn’t it ?

He must’ve been tired , exhausted even . Sirius knows he had a full day of classes today , and he would’ve appreciated the sleep. But he stayed up.

For Sirius .

He moves , closer , and closer , slowly , trying to do it as quietly as possible so he doesn’t wake Remus up.

When he’s there , he spots a tattered old copy of ‘Hogwarts : A History’ sitting on his lap . Gently , he picks it up and puts it on the small table next to the chair . This is when he moves , slightly , his face is no longer buried in the crook of his arm , and Sirius can see it fully.

In the embers of the fire , Remus Lupin looks like something holy. Something to worship.

His scars , littered over his face , are shining a beautiful silver - reflecting all the light from the fire , and the freckles are scattered across his face , all over. Sirius thinks he can count how many there are , if Remus would let him.

He always catches Sirius by the time he gets to twenty. Always blushes . Always tells Sirius ‘Stop it , won’t you?.’

And Sirius does. But one of these days , Remus will let him count, he’ll make sure of it.

And suddenly , a gust of wind flows in theough the window - and even though Sirius spells it shut , it’s enough to have sent a shiver down Remus’s spine.

Instantly , Remus moves like he’s been electrocuted - so of course , Sirius has to do something to rectify it , especially since the moon was just yesterday, and Remus is hyper-aware of everything. Every movement. He wouldn’t dare say something about it , never does , the fool.

Sirius looks around , and he spots a lovely maroon fluffy blanket draped over the sofa. He doesn’t know who’s it is , but whoever it belongs to couldn’t be missing it that much.

He levitates the blanket with a wordless charm , and carefully places it on top of Remus , so that it covers every inch of him from his neck downwards.

He moves a little closer , just a little , so that he sees the satifised look cross Remus’s face , and he’s about to back away , but just before he does , he decides to flatten the edges of the blanket over Remus’s shoulders , make sure that he doesn’t feel cold , not anymore.

This was a mistake.

Remus’s eyes fly open on instantly , and they lock gazes with Sirius.

Flint strikes on metal , and sparks fly.

“Sirius,” he croaks out , and Sirius heart jumps at the note of relief he detects in Remus’s voice , “ You’re back.”

“I am.”

“How was practice ?”

“Got cancelled after about five minutes of airtime. Even James was flying wonky . He wouldn’t admit it though , so don’t mention it.”

Remus laughs a little , sweet and deep , and it curls around Sirius , sending a small shiver down his spine.

Remus notices this , of course.

“You’re cold.”

“ What -no , no- ”

He lifts up the corner of the blanket , and pats the small space on the armchair next to him.

“Come here.”

Well , maybe Sirius is cold.

He steps forward , and sinks down into the chair , and instantly , the blanket covers him. He’s a wet mess , he realises , and him being next to Remus is probably doing more harm than good. He tries to shuffle away , not wanting his soppy uniform to wet Remus too , but an arm around his shoulder stops him.

“Don’t move. It’s perfect.”

“Oh.”

“It is.”

“Alright , then. You stayed up for me ?” he mumbles, his eyes running over Remus’s face.

“Who says I stayed up for you ?”

“I says it.”

“Maybe ‘I’ is wrong.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“I love you.”

Sirius nearly lets ‘Am not’ leave his mouth , before he realises what’s just happened. He blushes , inexplicably , the red creeping up his cheeks , and Remus only has one eye open and the best , most evil smirk lying on his face.

Sirius can only whisper it back in turn.

“I love you too.”

He closes his eyes then , leans his head on Remus’s shoulder , finding the softest comfort in the way it feels like his shoulder was made to fit Sirius’s head.

When he drifts off to sleep , he thinks he heard Remus whisper -

“I stayed up for you. Always do.”

————

Sirius wakes to noises in middle of the night , he has no clue. He can hear some voices speaking - softly , trying their best not to wake him up.

He’s learnt from listening, that the two voices are James and Remus’s. Remus’s hand is gently stroking the bsck of his head , softly , slowly.

“What are you doing out in the middle of the night ?”

It takes a minute for James to reply .

“Stargazing. You?”

Sirius feels the smile in Remus’s voice. He has to stop the one threatening to appear on his lips.

“Same as you , Prongs. Same as you.”

[deadlyessencewhispers]

Moon: Writing Prompt 6-28-23

Day 3ish X

Funnily enough, the only thing I remember from that fateful day - or night in this case, is the moon. It must have been full because despite being black, it acted as my guiding light. In fact, I don’t remember anything else. But that memory has been burned deep into my mind, it returns religiously – almost like those pesky debt collectors from back home - a continual reminder of my predicament.

You see, I am not home. I woke up in this cave. And I am not… even remotely home as far as I have been able to gather. And I’m not sure what that even means. The grass here is different. The sky. The moon. The trees. Nothing is at it should be. Well, the water is drinkable, and some of the plants have been edible.

Maybe I died. Maybe this is heav. Maybe this is hell. Purgatory? It’s something. Or, maybe I’ve just gone mad, and this is all in my mind - but I refuse to believe that. This is real. My pain is real. All of my cuts, scrapes and bruises from that day night are real.

So, my conclusion is that I have somehow, gone somewhere other than Earth. Maybe aliens brought me here, or God. I don’t know. But I plan to find some other intelligent creature to interact with. Hopefully there are others like me – humans. Hopefully whatever they are, they speak my language…

I don’t know how long I slept, through the entire day it seems. In the morning I will set out to find out what I can about this place – I cannot stay here in this cave. I might go mad.

- Asiné

[ladyhawke]

– Silvio Almeida

[Text ID: “What defines Latin America is precisely the political struggle of the people who identify themselves as Latin Americans in order to resist all the historical ills to which they were subjected.”]

[kvothbloodless]

A incredibly weird problem I see in a good portion of fantasy stories these days is something Ive been calling "Inferna delenda est", and which my less pretentious friends (all of them) call "the hell problem". Its sort of something that, because its a genre convention, is almost always ignored, but once you see it, it cant be unseen.

I admittedly only started seeing this after reading UNSONG, which is literally About this problem. But now that its been pointed out, I cant unsee it elsewhere, and any media which runs into it but doesnt address it becomes almost entirely ruined for me.

The issue of Inferna delenda est is present in any setting which 1. Has real, proven afterlifes where most people literally go when they die and 2. Has one of those afterlifes be at all comparable to Hell, i.e. any place where a significant number of sapient creatures are tortured for all eternity.

If those two criteria are met, almost any plot becomes pointless and trivial. What does it matter that a hero saves a city from destruction when beneath their feet millions of people are burning, and many of those saved will join them? Who cares whether the ruler of a country is corrupt or not? The evil that would be stopped by replacing them with even a perfectly competent and benevolent ruler is staggeringly inconsequential compared to that of an eternity of torment.

Like, im not being vague or making an analogy here. Im just saying that its incredibly difficult to care about a plot to stop a war or kill an evil wizard when the story offhandedly mentions the fact that millions of people are 100% being tortured for eternity in a real place and no one is doing anything about it.

And even further, it makes it Really hard to view the heroes as...actual heroes. The degree of callousness required to keep the existance of hell in the background (from an in-universe perspective) is just ridiculous. Like, if youve got your high fantasy hero saving an entire continent from an evil demigod or whatever, the fact that theyre Not constantly thinking about hell is just... if you have that kinda power, and you literally know for a fact that Hell is a place, then you should be fucked up about it!

Like I can understand that growing up in that setting youd be resigned to it, not much a random soldier or whatever can do about it. But once they become super powerful? And they never even Mention Hell? That much callousness automatically moves you down a few notches from hero.

Obviously in a lot of settings hell just sorta Exists, and soul sorting is vague, but even then like. Break into Hell! Rescue people or at least relieve their pain! Its just so insane that the worst thing literally imaginable as a physical place (maximum pain that lasts literally forever with no hope of relief) is a staple of lots of fantasy settings and so many authors just do not in any way address that.

And like I said, its not that theyre writing Poorly because of this. Its a genre staple, and if you dont give it too much thought it doesnt seem to be an issue, especially given [gestures vaguely in the direction of christianity and its popularization of the concept of hell]. But god now that its been pointed out it drives me Nuts.

Anyways idk where i was going with this. Read unsong, i guess?

[breathlessboy]

Shameless.

Synopsis: This time, Lance has him in his own room; his own bed. His flawlessly smooth and strong hands have him pinned to the mattress, and Keith can't remember how long it's been since they'd stumbled in here blind and drunk on anticipation.

He's loud. He's unrestrained. Keith is utterly shameless, and he just wants Lance to ruin him for anyone else.

A mere peak into the thought process of one Keith Kogane as he gets his brains fucked out by his right hand man.

Read it on Ao3 here.

[anxiouscr0w]

Emotional Support Staff Chapter 11 - BAD BUNNY!

Summary:

You spend some time with Roxy, who explains her previous close friendship with the Daycare Attendant. Moon is acting strange and you can’t get all your tasks done, Moon can’t tell if he wants you gone or is desperate for you to stay. You finally meet the DJ, who happily speaks with you for the rest of the night.

cw: mild blood, slightly virused Moon

Author's note:

It's the 5th of May... you know what that means? It’s my birthday! Yippee!! I know I said I wouldn’t get another chapter out for a short while cause of College, but I decided to try and get another out. Don't you feel so special? The mermay stuff might not get out until the end of the month, so it’s probably gonna be a not-so-mermay-fic. <3

[hrodvitnon]

ACHTUNG. ACHTUNG.

My first spicy SIGNALIS fic be upon ye!

[sampilled]

AU where Cas only gets Sam out of hell long after dean is already dead.

Cas is so lonely, he sees no point in continuing to try so he goes on a suicide mission to get sam from the cage, he doesn't expect to succeed but he does.

he rebuilds his body around his mutilated soul.

no dean. no bobby. no no one.

they are each others everything, cas puts everything into trying to heal sam, theres only so much he can do but he spends every minute taking care of him. his new purpose is to care for sam, this is all he has!! hes not gonna give him up or let anyone take him!!

[ciciciron]

The universe must hate you if you're stuck here with me

Please zoom in and view all the details it took forever 💞💞

Honestly surprised I finished this before my birthday, especially considering I did the last half of it with a headache. Anyways I offer you them, aka my oc/flying-type arceus and my Hoopa!Lear design 💞 This is the first time I hard committed to painting a piece and I think it looks good

[teecupangel]

I don't think that kind of hidden blade is a good idea, Ezio.

I feel like this is a Star Wars AU and the Jedi Council is gonna have a headache with the creation of the Hidden Saber (Hidden Lightsaber?) and Ezio is one of the Jedi Masters that’s totally game using this experimental weaponry.

Yusuf is definitely the Jedi Master who introduced this to Ezio.

And now it’s the Jedi Council’s problem because Ezio and Yusuf are both charismatic Master who can sweet talk any veteran Jedi to, at worst, try it and, at best, be more open to the idea. All the Padawans and younglings think Ezio is cool though so they’re definitely interested in trying it out.

[amphibifish]

i lied when i said espresso cookie had no long lasting effect on me i dressed in sweater vests for almost 2 years cause of him

[ess-presso]

HP microfic prompt:

Jegulus, Quaffle

:)

jegulus + quaffle

————

James is lying down , trying his best to pay attention to Regulus.

He loves him , really he does , but he has no clue how Regulus can make shapes out of dots in the sky. As far as he’s concerned , they’re stars. That’s all.

He wouldn’t care for them at all , if not for the way Regulus has his own little stars in his eyes when he talks about them. He gets so passionate over stars , and James is passionate over him - so to him , it’s a fair trade.

Regulus can look at the stars , and James can look at him.

This way , they’re both happy.

They’re lying in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch , and the ground is a little damp beneath them , but it’s nothing a warming charm can’t fix.

Besides , James wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Regulus turns to him , his face split into a wide smile, and suddenly , his eyes flit across James’s face , flickering all over every part of him , like he’s trying to commit him to memory. 

“James ,” he whispers , and James nods , his ears following the sound of Regulus’s voice like it’s a melody , “ It’s getting a little cold now.”

James blinks , thinking.

“Do you want to go inside ?” he asks , “Or do you want to just walk around for a while ?” 

Secretly, James hopes it’s the latter.

Regulus shakes his head , laughing to himself softly.

“I think we can walk around for a bit. Not ready to let go of you just yet.” 

He adds on the last bit as a sort of mumble , and James doesn’t think he was supposed to hear it , but he does , and his heart flutters in his chest. It turns into a snitch , he likes to think , flying and fluttering , painted golden anytime Regulus does anything.

They’re walking - talking about anything and everything.

And , because of the sheer nature of them and where they are - the conversation turns to Quidditch.

“I could be a good a seeker as you are.”

“Absolutely not. No one could ever be as good as me. Not in a million years.”

“Someone’s overconfident about his Quidditch Abilities.”

“It’s not overconfidence, it’s facts. I could be as good a chaser as you.”

James smiles.

“Oh yeah ?”

“Yeah , I could. There’s not much to ‘Chasering’ is there now ? Catch the Quaffle , Throw it in the hoop.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is so easy.”

“Mhm.”

They’re nearing the end of the pitch now , and to their left is the equipment shed. James thinks he can impress Regulus a little with what he’s about to do

“Bet you can’t do this,” he says , turning to the cupboard. Closing his eyes , he puts his wand against it , tapping it slowly three times , muttering an incantation under his lips.

When he opens his eyes , the doors are still closed.

In the background, he hears Regulus snort and say something about being taken down a peg.

But he tries again - tapping it four times now , and this time , it works.

The cupboard is full to the brim with chipped old brooms , and boxes upon boxes of Quidditch gear , including shinpads - which James will need more of he’s sure.

But this isn’t what he’s looking for. At the back of the cupboard , there’s a box. It’s shaped like a treasure chest , huge , and on the side there’s faded gold lettering.

James uses a flimsy summoning charm to bring it to him , and Regulus , to his credit , catches the box with a single hand before it smacks James right in the middle of his face.

Seeker reflexes and all.

“Alright , Potter. What did you want to show me ? Preferably without trying to kill me , please.”

James clicks open the box , and instantly there’s a buzz of magic released into the air that makes him shiver. The snitch is sitting silently at the bottom of the box , but James is looking at the ball in the centre.

The Quaffle .

Lightly , James’s fingers caress it. , making sure to keep his touch feather-like and gentle , as if the ball was a real living person. 

Regulus is watching him carefully , his smile twisting in the way it always does when James seems at peace like this , wonderfully serene .

Then , James clips out the Quaffle , shutting the box , and pushing it to the side , and turning to look at Regulus , spinning the Quaffle around in his hands.

He throws it to Regulus , who nearly falls over just from the weight of it , taking a moment to recover.

“Go on then.”

“What are you expecting me to do?”

“Something spectacular.”

Regulus turns the ball in his own hands , trying to find out why on Earth James would like this battered old ball so much- it’s old and used and it’s not golden like the snitch.

Why would James ever love something like that ? 

“Do you expect me to get on a broom and throw it through the hoops right now ?” says Regulus,  incredulously.

James huffs out , cold air leaving his mouth.

“No. I s’pose not.”

He steps back then , his feet going further and further away from Regulus - and already Regulus doesn’t like whatever’s happening. Anything that involves James to get further away , Regulus is in disagreement of.

He wants him closer , as close as possible , sticking to him . Let him sew James on to his side , carefully , so he’ll never leave. 

James gestures to Regulus , and then shouts out ,

“Let’s play a little game of catch then , Reg. You throw it three times in a row , this far , you win.”

“Win what?”

“Me.”

“Do I not already have you ?”

“So you do. Bragging rights ?”

“Deal.”

The first time Regulus throws the Quaffle , it lands with a mighty heap right near his toes. James gets busy laughing his arse off , and when he’s not looking , Regulus places a feather-light charm on it.

The next time he throws it , It lands straight at James’s feet . He whistles , and Regulus blushes , and they play like this for a few moments. 

Catching and throwing , the Quaffle between the two of them , a little like he imagines their hearts would be , throwing themselves into the other’s chest. 

He doesn’t even realise that he’s thrown it three times , until James throws it back to him , and begins to come closer , till he’s standing a metre away from Regulus. 

“Well,” he breathes out , his voice low , his eyes on Regulus , the side of his mouth quirking upwards in pride – so that Regulus nearly feels bad for his little bit of cheating , “Bragging rights , you have. Should I put the quaffle back ?” He adds , and that’s when Regulus realises he’s become a little too entranced by the beautiful man standing in front of him , and in an attempt to conceal the red rising up his cheeks , he tells James that he’ll put the Quaffle back instead. 

“Alright then , Mr Chivalrous. I’ll wait for you over there.”

He walks away , but not before giving Regulus a sweet kiss on his lips , holding it there for just a couple of seconds , but the few seconds that their lips are joined , it’s like Regulus has dipped his toe into paradise.

He’s just about to put the Quaffle back , into the box , when something stops him. Something very real , and raw. 

Maybe it’s the fact that Regulus is deliriously in love with this man , and that anything that he’s touched , Regulus considers Holy Ground. 

But maybe it’s because Regulus is just a boy in love – and this is a war , and moments like these are so rare , they’re a delicacy , and Regulus has to take them for what they are. 

So , after making sure that James isn’t looking , he shrinks the Quaffle , to the size of a marble , and with another spell ,  he etches a little shape into the side of it – his own little constellation , the one that’s in the sky right now.

Ophiuchus . Serpent Bearer. Because James is Ophiuchus reincarnated . And , as he’s reminded every time they see each other , Ophiuchus is very much in love with his little serpent. 

He looks at the mini Quaffle in his hand , his hand twisting and turning it around . It reminds him so beautifully of James. Of all the things he loves. 

Of the ability to love something so sly , so cunning. Of the ability to love something tattered and broken. 

James calls out to him then , and Regulus pockets the Quaffle ,  shoves the box in the shed , and locks the door , and runs up to James.

“You alright , then ?”  he asks , slightly concerned.

And Regulus is happy now. 

Like this , next to the very thing he loves , he’s happy.

Anything involving him standing in the general realm of James Potter makes him very happy. He’d like to call it interminable happiness , but whenever he thinks of it like that , he remembers home , he remembers duties , and he remembers another snake.

The one slithering like poison on his arm , threatening to spread its venom on everything he ever loved.

But for now. 

For now , it is okay.

For now , he can pretend. 

“Yes ,” he replies , “I’m alright.”

------

Regulus is drowning. 

He can feel the bony hands , holding onto him with a titanium grip.

Regulus knows he’s going to die.

He knows James is out there , with his wife , his son.

But the small Quaffle in his pocket weighs him down. 

He remembers. 

Beyond everything , he remembers stolen stares , sweet kisses , and amber eyes. 

He’s happy to die with that little bit of love. Even if it’s a just a  memory , he’ll die thinking of it.

His moment with his James. 

That little bit of holy ground.

[deadlyessencewhispers]

Rays: Writing Prompt 6-26-23

You lay in bed, wrapped in silken blankets, barely awake. You shift and your foot liberates itself from the cocoon. Freedom feels like the icy snow banks of the Northern Isles but a quick yank brings you back to solace - like a crackling campfire in the night. Rays from sun greet you through the blinds and  illuminate your face, but you’re not ready for the light. Not yet. - What time is it? Surely, I couldn’t have slept too long.  It can’t be that late. Not yet.

You sit up, losing the comfort and warmth that enveloped you. It’s late, it’s definitely late. I didn’t mean to sleep so late! Then you hear it. The low hum of their breath beside you and you realize where you are, when you are, how you are – who you are. You can’t help the smile that paints itself across your face.  You slip back under the covers and press your body against theirs. The Warmth. For now, nothing matters.

[laismoura-art]

Me: *enter Tumblr*

The posts: OMG Harumi SUCKS! I HATE HER SO MUCH! OMG KUAI LIANG IS TERRIBLE! OMG I HATE MK! HATE! HATE! HATE!

Me:

Me: I'll come back later😑

My latest bios make me sad:

[meat-wentz]

down bad so i need to know everyone’s favorite patrick vocal deliveries, like yeah yeah, favorite lyrics we all have em, but like what are the lines that when sung by patrick stump just straight up obliterated your entire fucking brain chemistry

[anxiouscr0w]

Emotional Support Staff Chapter 10 - Echoed Voices

Summary:

You seek comfort in a friend, she speaks about your robot coworker and is surprised to hear your experiences with them. Monty decides to accompany you through most of your shift as you avoid your feelings of fear of the Daycare Attendant. You see Sun, who's being a sassy bastard today, but don’t stick around for when the lights go out. You have to face Moon, then tell him he is required in Parts and Service…

CWs: Descriptions of fear, dissociation, panic, slightly virused Moon

A/N:

Welcome back! I’m super happy with this chapter and I had a lot of fun writing it! Bad news: I probably won’t be able to even start drafting Chapter 11 for another month because of assignments (that I haven’t even started)

But good news!: Over the last few months I’ve been writing my first drabble, that I will be posting at the same time as this. The first one is non-canon but follows a different outcome to the beginning of chapter 9. There’s more to be written in the future :) You can find it here -

Find Me in Ruins

I also have a mermay fic planned, but unfortunately, I probably won’t get it out next month.