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television-overload · 6 months ago

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of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 8/34 - fish and chips

[Read on AO3]

“So, can I buy my wife some dinner?” Mulder asks. His hands are shoved deep in his coat pockets now as they descend the steps of the courthouse, fighting back against the chill in the air. The tie comes untied practically as soon as they walk out the door, hanging listlessly around his neck.

Scully looks over at him, the word ‘wife’ somehow sounding different coming out of his mouth now that they’re outside in the real world. It does something funny to her heart.

“What do you have in mind?” she asks, maintaining her calm composure.

They’ve eaten together countless times before, in cities and towns all across the United States. On occasion, Mulder would even pick up the check, when he was feeling particularly chivalric. But this feels different. Not overtly so, but just enough to be noticeable.

They eventually settle on walking down by the harbor, where a few vendors are selling food to tourists visiting for the holidays. With a greasy basket of fish and chips each in hand, they continue walking until they hit the end of the pier, claiming for themselves a wooden bench overlooking the water.

“Some day, huh?” Mulder remarks, slathering a fry in ketchup before putting it in his mouth.

He’s a master of understatement, her partner. He would describe almost dying as a “minor injury” if she wasn’t there to give him the unwavering doctor stare. But his wry humor is one of the things she loves most about him. Among other things.

“No turning back now,” she comments, nudging his side with her shoulder. “You regret tying yourself down yet?”

He looks at her at that, his expression one of disbelief. “Never,” he answers. “You?”

��No, Mulder. I– I’m more grateful for this than you can imagine.”

His lips pull back in that easy smile she doesn’t get to see often enough, and he relaxes back against the bench. The wind coming in from the harbor is brisk, occasionally bringing a spray of mist with it. It makes his hair stick up in adorable little spikes, and she just wants to run her hands through it and smooth it down.

They’re the only ones crazy enough to be all the way out here for longer than the time it takes a tourist to snap a quick picture. The temperature is dropping quickly as nightfall approaches, and it wasn’t all that temperate to begin with, it being so close to January. Somehow, Scully still feels perfectly warm.

“So, why did you really want to get married on Christmas?” Mulder asks, after a few minutes more spent contemplating the darkening horizon.

He’s looking at her now, one arm draped casually over the back of the bench, now that he’s finished eating.

“I guess I just liked the idea of having something to remember this holiday for other than bad memories,” Scully answers, thoughts of her father and Emily filling her head. “And…”

“What?”

She pauses, wondering if she should share this somewhat embarrassing, personal detail with him. One look in his eyes and she feels her tongue loosening, and suddenly she wants to share everything with this man.

“Well, I always used to imagine a December wedding when I was a little girl,” she admits, preparing herself for the teasing she’s come to expect from her partner.

She and Missy had loved cutting pictures out of magazines and putting them in binders, concocting the perfect futures for themselves. Over the years, the specific details of her imaginings changed as her taste did, but one thing remained the same. A winter wedding, maybe with snow. Evergreen branches and little white and red berries adorning the bouquet. Lace sleeves on an elaborate wedding dress, its long train dragging behind her in a beautiful cathedral.

Missy was the complete opposite, filling her book instead with pictures of hot summer weather and wedding dresses that were just a little too revealing.

It’s been a long time since she’s thought of those binders, maybe still collecting dust somewhere in Maggie Scully’s house.

Mulder’s knee tilts toward hers, knocking against it affectionately. “Sorry it wasn’t quite the majestic fantasy wedding of little Dana Katherine Scully's dreams,” he says, giving that shy, apologetic half-smile she knows so well.

“I don't know…” she shrugs. “It wasn't too far off.”

He shakes his head, breathing a humorless laugh through his nose. “You don't have to lie to make me feel better,” he says.

“No, really,” she starts, turning toward him. “It– Maybe it wasn't in a big cathedral with lots of flowers and people there, but…” She looks into his eyes and then quickly glances away, hiding a blush. “Well, in a way, I married my knight in shining armor, didn’t I?”

She chances another look at him, and he’s smiling a big cheesy smile. Great, she inflated his ego.

“Oh yeah? And what armor would that be?” he asks, laughter in his voice.

She rolls her eyes. “A parka not quite warm enough for Antarctica and two layers of pants,” she answers dryly.

He tosses his head back, looking heavenward for a second and smiles. “Ah, don't forget my valiant steed: the Sno-Cat Model 2000.”

“Valiant,” she agrees, “but not the most dependable.”

As time passes, the sky fades into an inky dark blue. The harbor sparkles with the lights of countless boats, some far out on the horizon.

It’s funny. Sometimes when she looks out there, she can almost believe her father is on one of those boats, just waiting to come back to shore. She’d always thought Ahab would be there with her on her wedding day, smiling and proud of her and walking her down the aisle.

Now, she sort of feels like he was.

She looks over at the man next to her, contemplative as he usually is when he has nothing to say. Her father would have liked him, she thinks. Well, eventually. She has to think he would respect Mulder’s drive, and the way he cares for her. Maybe it’s foolish and idealistic, but the alternative, she doesn’t even want to consider. She’s said before that they are alike—devoted entirely to their cause. The important thing is that she’s happy, and their unconventional partnership works for them.

Nobody else’s opinion matters, only theirs. That’s the biggest lesson she’s learned in her time with Mulder.

On the way back to their car, he hands a couple dollars over to a vendor and procures two steaming cups of hot chocolate, citing that the unpleasant memory of the bone-deep chill they experienced in Antarctica was making him cold. When Scully brings the warm liquid to her lips, she catches sight again of the sparkling ring on her finger, and she stops to admire it.

“If you don’t like that one, we can trade it in,” Mulder says, taking a sip of his cocoa and watching her expectantly over the lid of his cup.

“It’s perfect, Mulder,” she says, hopefully putting any worries he might have to rest. “You didn’t have to… Just a simple wedding band would have been fine.”

He shrugs noncommittally, bouncing restlessly in place to keep warm, or maybe out of discomfort with this particular conversation. It’s a nervous tic she’s come to love, unless she’s extremely overtired, in which case it gets on her nerves quick.

“I figured it would be good to have them for interviews and stuff,” he adds, glancing around. “I mean, obviously we can’t wear them all the time, but—”

“Oh,” Scully says. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

She can only imagine what the rumor mill at the Hoover building would say, if they waltzed in one day wearing matching rings. Only this time, there’d be some undeniable truth to the claims.

“Not that…I don’t want to wear it, Scully,” Mulder assures her, absentmindedly twisting his own ring with his thumb. “It’s just—”

“Yeah.”

It’s a shame, in all honesty. She likes the weight of it on her finger. It feels right, somehow. And she likes the sight of him with his on, too. It’s a tangible thing, something to remind her that he’s made a commitment to her.

She can’t help but think that if, God forbid, another Diana ever arose, that ring would provide an assurance that would get her through it without the emotional distress she experienced the first time around. A token that validates the possessiveness she feels, warranted or not.

Mulder shifts his cup of hot chocolate from one hand to the other and digs in his pocket again. “I did pick these up, too,” he says, pulling out two long, silver chains and depositing one in her hand, “if you want to keep it somewhere safe when you’re not wearing it.”

For some reason, the fact that he’d thought of this ahead of time makes her throat clog up and her eyes sting with tears. He’s always been a bit of an odd gift-giver, bestowing her with bizarre little trinkets that either mean nothing or everything, and it's never easy to tell which. But this… It’s hard to picture him standing in a jewelry store, contemplating her taste in jewelry and the practicality of wearing it in their situation.

How much money had he spent on it? Did he worry he was being presumptive? Had it taken five minutes or five hours to make his decision? These are questions she never thought she’d be asking herself, and it’s just proof of how crazy her life has turned out.

She wonders if he’ll take his ring off now and slide it onto his necklace, but instead he places the chain back in his pocket, a choice that seems heavy with perceived meaning. She follows his lead, tucking hers away for the time being as they continue their walk.

Later. For now, she can enjoy the way it sparkles when the Christmas lights all around them catch it just right.

“Hey, Scully?” he says, glancing down at her beside him while they wait for the crosswalk to tell them to cross.

She looks up at him, his earnest expression setting off the butterflies in her stomach.

“I’m glad you said yes,” he finishes.

She smiles wistfully, looping her arm into his and leaning against his shoulder.

“Me too,” she agrees.

-.-.-

Bill is waiting up for them when they get back to Maggie Scully’s house well after it has gotten dark. The original plan had been to go their separate ways after their “errand” at the courthouse, but time had gotten away from them. She wasn’t about to send him home at this hour, only for him to have to drive back in the morning, no matter how much he protested that he would be fine.

After a brief confrontation in which Scully has to defend why her partner is still with her (“Mom invited him to Christmas, Bill”), he begrudgingly fetches a spare pillow and quilt and sets them on the couch in the living room, warning him that he’ll need to be up bright and early for present opening. Mulder salutes him sarcastically, earning a look of scorn that fizzles at Scully’s challenging stare.

“How’d the case go? You smell like seawater,” he says gruffly, hanging around far longer than needed or wanted.

“Nothing much we could do to help,” Mulder answers with their pre-prepared response. “They let us off the hook early.”

After a few more questions, which they expertly dodge, Bill disappears up the stairs to the room his family is staying in, and Mulder breathes a sigh of relief.

“Well, you did it, Scully. You successfully snuck back in without your mom finding out,” he says, cracking a smile.

“Didn’t even have to climb through a window or anything,” she adds with a straight face. “I’m kind of disappointed.”

The room falls silent, save for the sound of the heater running to keep the house warm. Somewhere in the kitchen, the ice maker rattles.

“Will you be okay down here?” Scully asks, looking over his shoulder at the couch and worrying her lip.

He glances behind himself, then turns back to her with a tender smile. “I think he probably found the quilt that smells the most like mothballs, but yeah, I’ll be fine,” he says jokingly.

She frowns. “I can get you a different blanket. There has to be more in the closet upstairs, I’ll just—”

“Scully, Scully, I was kidding,” he says, stopping her retreat by placing a hand on her upper arm. She immediately freezes, her eyes landing on the spot where his hand touches her, seemingly realizing for the first time how close they are standing.

For an instant, he reflexively pulls away as if burned, and she feels the loss like a phantom limb. But then he’s back, this time softer. Hesitant, but purposeful.

She shifts her gaze up to meet his.

“I’ll be fine,” he reiterates, his voice dropping to a murmur. It’s all she can do to nod, lost in the dim light of the room reflected in his eyes. His eyes scan her face, lingering for a moment on her lips, and then he whispers, “Goodnight, Scully.”

Before she knows what’s happening, he’s lowering his head, and she feels his lips press against her cheek. Although it’s not an altogether unfamiliar gesture, tonight it feels… significant. He pulls back with a soft smile and releases her, not that she could move if she wanted to. It’s like her feet are glued to the floor, and her cheeks burn at the thought of getting stuck in a daze like this from such a simple action.

Fortunately, her brother saves her from further embarrassment. “Dana, you coming?” he calls from upstairs, shaking her from her stupor.

“Yeah, be right up,” she answers distractedly, eyes unable to stray from Mulder’s. She blinks a few times and frees herself from his spell, taking a step back toward the hallway. “Um. There’s towels in the bathroom,” she states, taking another step. “I’ll be in the first room on the left upstairs, if you need anything.”

He nods quietly, smiling at her in that way that makes her stomach flip.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Night, Mrs. Mulder.”

-.-.-

Sleep proves difficult, which probably shouldn’t surprise her. It’s a combination of things, really. The ceremony, the brief touch of his lips to hers in the courtroom, the kiss on her cheek before bed. ‘Mrs. Mulder,’ which is frankly, ridiculous, but endearing nonetheless. And a whole host of other moments from the day that she wants to commit to memory.

It hits her, as she’s lying in bed after her shower, that this is her wedding night. It’s not at all like she grew up expecting it to be, but given the circumstances, it would be weird if it was. Things are strange enough as it is, and that—well, that would complicate it even further.

She watches the clock on the nightstand turn to midnight, the blinking display of red numbers ushering in Christmas Day while the other side of her bed lays empty. His presence is felt, though, in the cool press of her ring to her chest, now looped around a chain and hidden beneath her clothes.

She tells herself she’s wearing it still because she doesn’t want anyone else to stumble upon it in the morning, but then she’s always been good at lying to herself. Her hand travels to it unconsciously, clutching it in a fist, reminding herself that it’s real.

She sighs, rolling over. Maybe Mulder’s insomnia is rubbing off on her. With another frustrated exhale, she sits up, lowering her feet to the floor. She gathers the knitted blanket from the foot of the bed and drags it with her, creeping to the door and prying it open slowly.

Maybe he’s still awake. They can stay up and just talk, or sneak some Christmas cookies from her mother’s tupperware. Either one would be preferable to laying awake up here all alone.

When she gets to the foot of the stairs, however, she hears the sound of steady, gentle breathing coming from the direction of the couch.

Figures, this is the one time he actually manages a good night’s rest.

She rounds the corner into the living room and glances down at the figure on the sofa. Sure enough, his arms are tucked up against his chest, his face relaxed and tranquil. He looks so young, like this. Younger even than the day she met him.

Oh, she loves him. Of course she does. How could she not?

The way his cheek is pressed up against the pillow makes her want to curl up next to him, but she settles for the worn La-Z-Boy recliner across the room. After draping her blanket over her lap, she tugs it over her shoulders and curls up, the overstuffed chair rocking back and forth with every movement. She watches him, in the dim light from the Christmas tree in the corner. His knees hang over the edge of the too-small couch, and yet he’s as peaceful as ever, his chest rising and falling in measured increments.

Beneath his thin, pale gray t-shirt, she sees a small, circular outline. His ring, resting right over his heart.

She closes her eyes, sending a wish to whoever might be listening that one day, that heart might belong to her, and hers to him.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear @whovianderson

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

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astridellejo · 2 months ago

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The Silent Spear Maker of Tiger Seal Cove A story about Anouk, an airbender of the Southern Water Tribe

I spent eight weeks this summer drawing twelve (now thirteen) pages of what is basically a fan comic. I used up almost my entire webcomic buffer to do it. Set during the era of Avatar Korra, this is the origin story of my airbender OC, Anouk. I first made this character almost ten years ago not long after The Legend of Korra had ended, but didn't start fleshing out her story until recently. Now I'm beginning to think I'm going to wind up making a whole graphic novel about the airbender girlfriends!

So here's my little passion project. Thanks for reading!

Page descriptions in alts, page transcripts below the cut.

Page 1 Tiger Seal Cove. The Southern Water Tribe. On the day of Harmonic Convergence. A small fishing village of brightly painted houses are illuminated from within. The purple sky above shimmers with green spirit energy. A freckled woman with long brown hair sits in a dog sled like patio furniture and looks up at the lightshow. She foofs out a puff of air, closing her eyes and smiling.

Page 2 Two weeks later. The woman is in her workshop chiseling a design into bone. Around her at her workbench are an assortment of tools as well as some of her spears that she has crafted. While there is a window looking out upon a snow covered hill illuminated by low winter sunlight, most of the light comes from an oil lamp below the window. Just to the side of the window is an old framed photograph of the woman's parents. She stretches broadly. Behind her is another workbench and more equipment. In the next room is a kitchen, stove, and low dining table. Looking in from outside, the reflection of the hillside is visible over the woman inside looking out. She smiles. Time to get up for a break! She swoops on a bolero-style jacket and heads out.

Page 3 She stands on the snow-covered icy hillside overlooking a small gathering of tiger seals snoozing on the beach. She goes through the waterbending forms for a water whip. On the attack strike, a sudden gust of wind blows by, loosing her hair from her hair stick. She rewraps her hair and looks around, confused about the sudden and inexplicable wind.

Page 4 She focuses her attention and moves through the attack strike once more. Again, a strong gust of wind blows by, this time fully blowing her hair down and sending her hair stick flying. She stares in shock at her hands? What is going on?! Behind her, the glow of the spirit portal aurora frames her head like glowing wings. She tries a few more swings and each time a gust of wind accompanies them. There is a wide panoramic shot from the icy blue mountains to the bright orange-yellow glow of the low late winter sunrise. A light breeze wafts by.

Page 5 A note on the front door reads: "Gone to Wolf Cove. Back in a few days. Anouk." Anouk sets out on a kayak journey to the city. A trail of bioluminescent algae accompanies her as she paddles through the early morning water. Once in Wolf Cove, Anouk ties her kayak to the pier and heads into the city to her waterbending dojo. On the street, other people are out strolling. One shop has four lanterns hanging above it in each color of the four nations.

Page 6 Inside the dojo, Anouk greets her bending master. No words are spoken. The dialogue balloons are pictographic. In the corner of the dojo is a large blue ceramic pot filled with water. The floor appears to be ice, with wood pillars emerging from it. The master arches her eyebrow with a wry smile and inquires if Anouk has done any waterbending yet. Anouk responds she's been practicing, but she's still not a waterbender. However, she did airbend. The master is shocked. Airbend? Anouk asks her bending master if she knows anything about the Air Nomads. The master ponders for a moment before asking if Anouk has a dog sled for travel.

Page 7 One sled rental later, Anouk is on her way to the White Lotus compound. The guards at the gate look at each other. The Water Tribe guard turns to the Fire Nation guard and says to him, "This might be our guest." He responds with a gruff, "We'll see." He scowls with piercing yellow eyes and yells out at Anouk, "Stop there! What is your business?" Anouk signs her name in Southern Water Tribe hand talk (which looks surprisingly like American Sign Language for some reason ). Panels below show the fingerspelling letters for A-N-O-U-K. The Fire Nation guard sheepishly turns to his colleague and says, "Oh. Uh, Rina? This is your department." Rina smiles and begins signing, "Can I help you?" A very excited Anouk rapidly signs, "I know this seems crazy, but I think I might be an airbender. I hoped to meet with Master Katara since she's the closest to an airbending expert in the South." Rina smiles with an excited, "Oh!" before resuming signing, "Yes! She told us to be on the lookout for any new airbenders!"

Page 8 Rina and Anouk sign with each other as Shen walks through the gate. Rina: Shen will let Master Katara know she has a visitor. Anouk: Thank you! Rina: If you like, I can interpret for you. Anouk: I would appreciate that! While Anouk waits for Shen to return, she gives scritches to the fuzzy polar bear dog who pulled her sled. Doggy closes his eyes and leans his head into Anouk's hand. Soon, Shen emerges from the gate and shouts loud enough to get Anouk's attention, "Hey!" He continues at a more reasonable volume, "Master Katara will see you now." Gruff Shen then wanders back to play with the polar bear dog. Rina follows Anouk into the interior of the compound as a nervous Anouk absentmindedly tucks her hair behind her ear.

Page 9 The legend herself, Master Katara, walks toward Anouk and Rina. "Welcome! I am Katara." Rina interprets this for Anouk. "Master Siqni was one of my students. When she contacted me and told me about you, I knew I had to meet you!" Katara smiles and tilts her head toward Anouk. "I'm so glad she thought to send you to me! Please, tell me about yourself." Anouk begins signing while Rina interprets saying, "My name is … Anouk. I craft fishing equipment in the village of … Tiger Seal Cove. I like to practice bending forms for exercise and meditation. Even though I've never bent an element in my life."

Page 10 Anouk continues signing while Rina interprets saying, "But the other day, a strange thing happened during my practice. I started airbending! Since you are the matriarch of the only airbenders in the world, I thought you might know how this happened." Katara's monologue: I'm not entirely sure. Though I expect the Harmonic Convergence had something to do with it. My son, Bumi, radioed me a few days ago with the incredible news that he was suddenly an airbender! At first he wasn't sure if he was simply a late bloomer. After all, airbending does run in our family! But then my youngest son, Tenzin, told me he'd received word of more airbenders in the Earth Kingdom. An inset circular panel shows a very excited Tenzin on the radio. Katara continues: He told me to keep my eyes open for other new airbenders, because they could be anywhere. And here you are! Anouk smiles.

Page 11 A wide shot of the three of them in the compound shows the wide space available for Katara's request. "Anouk… Could you show me your airbending?" Anouk begins the water whip forms, which is not lost on Katara. Just as before, the final strike releases a strong gust of wind. Katara is shocked. Here is an airbender before her who is not related to her. "Oh, Aang! It's really happening! The airbenders have returned!"

Page 12 Katara holds a teapot and pours. Steam wafts up from the hot green tea as it flows into the cup. Katara walks around the dining table to her seat. She speaks to Anouk as Rina interprets. "Tenzin told me he'll be traveling to the Earth Kingdom to meet the new airbenders there." Katara sits, placing the teapot back on its tray. Katara: And he encourages all new airbenders to go to Air Temple Island in Republic City. There they … you … can receive formal training on how to use this new gift from the spirits. What do you think? Anouk glances at Rina as she signs. Did Master Katara just say to travel to Republic City?! Anouk has a big decision to make.

Page 13 The note on Anouk's front door now reads, "Gone to Republic City. Back in a few months. Anouk." She puffs out a nervous foof as moonlight shimmers on the ocean behind her. Anouk is on a ship headed north. Three people behind her, one from each nation, sit on the deck benches to look at the moon while Anouk closes her eyes and smiles. She looks back at the city lights of Wolf Cove and how they pale in contrast to the glow of the bioluminescent algae kicked up by the ship and the majestic shimmer of the spirit portal aurora in the sky above. Her world has changed and she has no idea what's next.

#atla #tlok #avatar the last airbender #the legend of korra #atla fanart #tlok fanart #airbender #katara #tlok tenzin #harmonic convergence #tlok fanfic #comics #atla oc #tlok oc #original character #airbender anouk #airbender girlfriends #fan comic #fanart

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mrsnancywheeler · 9 months ago

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omg i was offline for a while but now im feasting on ur fics as i catch up HAHA😋🍽️ (sorry if i flood ur inbox in the process </3)

but with ur recent post talking about the reader’s trauma with hypothermia has got me #thinking. bc where i live, the weather is so spontaneous. it could be clear skies for one minute and suddenly just pouring rain/snow the next.

so i wonder what it would be like if the weather in district four was the same :( like it hurts so much thinking abt finn and the reader having a good day outside (it might be one of the first few times they’ve gone out together in a while) bc she finally feels ok enough. Then it suddenly starts raining and she just shuts down— or maybe she tries to act okay for finn because he was really looking forward to going out with his sweet girl :(( im just rambling lmao sorry

but i was also #thinking abt how on their first date, the reader jumps into the water and finnick joins her :(( and they spent the rest of their date swimming etc :(( and tft, shortly after winning her games, they probably couldn’t do that for a while bc either the cold water reminds her of the hypothermia or when marlow nearly drowned her :( I just imagined finnick swimming by himself and missing his sweet girl :((

idk i just be saying things HAHA ok time to catch up on everything 🏃‍♀️💨

-🦅

literally missed you so much pookie 💋💋

I hope you eat well and literally please flood my inbox I love it so so much

reader is literally like a professional masker most of the time lmao. so like maybe they're a few months out from her games, the spontaneous weather of it all has made it really difficult for her to go outside besides going to the markets with finnick a couple of times or sitting on the balcony. and she's so confused about how she feels about the ocean now because she loves it and always has, but now it makes her survival instincts kick in or brings her back to a place of near death. eventually when the water was warm she'd be able to to do warm water, and after a few years it really restricts itself to the cold and freezing rain, but for a while her relationship with water and the weather is very tumultuous.

but like finnick sees the weather is nice one day and asks reader if they can go sailing again. he hasn't been able to enjoy doing it alone since he first did it with her, and he misses it. and she misses it too even if it's difficult to let herself do, and she wants him to be happy. so she agrees. he packs lunch, she picks a book to read to him, he's got his fishing poles, and everything is set up. for most of the day it's good, it's warm and sunny, they're both grateful for the heat to be beating down on their skin. finnick would notice the clouds coming in first and quietly try to start leading the boat back to shore. letting her keep reading as not to disturb her, so this will just be a close call instead. but the weather has other plans and when he realizes this he has no choice but to mention it.

"angel, I'm sorry, I'm trying to get us back to shore, but it looks like it's going to rain. we're not going to be in it for long, I'm sorry."

and she's his sweet girl, so even though her stomach is turning with anxiety, she smiles through it. "it's okay, finn, I'll be fine." he knows it's a lie and she's already curling up into a ball, but there's not much he can do except reassure her that it will be okay. then the rain starts, it's not terribly cold, but it's rain. she strains to make small talk, but it's impossible to resist the urge to transport herself back into the arena. to cover her ears and try to provide warmth from curling up.

and finnick is trying to sail back, but also protect her from the rain, to tell her that it's all okay, to rub circles on her hands to keep her planted in reality. but by the time they've made it back to the pier she's having a full blown panic attack, that she can't hide even if she tries.

and he's getting her back out of the rain, into the house as fast as he can. getting her dry, bringing her back, breathing deeply, asking her to name things she smells, sees, hears, feels. when she's calmed down she's still crying and so apologetic.

"I'm sorry, you should go back out, I know you were excited. I'm really sorry, I always ruin everything."

"no, no, no, no, hey, hey sweet girl, don't be sorry. I'm not upset and you didn't ruin a thing, I just wanna take care of you."

once upon a time reader and finnick could swim every single day, multiple times and then suddenly it was stopped. not just because of the weather, but the water. and he'll never push it but he misses swimming with his sweet girl. he'll think non-stop about her, collect little treasures for her, but he diligently waits for her to slowly get accustomed to everything before then. but when she finally does start swimming with him again it'll be totally worth the wait.

yes yes yes, I hope you enjoy it ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#wanda 💋#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x y/n #the lakes #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #the river #🦅 anon

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darkness-sees-all · 4 months ago

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A Creeping Loneliness

TW: SH / Blood

The deity of chaos and darkness sat with their legs dangling over their favorite pier, one that was far away from everything and everyone. One where they could be alone, in the silence, with only their own thoughts. They hated that part; they hated it SO much. Loneliness was a killer, but Darkheart wasn't allowed to die from something so simple. They're a deity, a basic emotion couldn't be a serial killer to them. They huff softly, hunching over slightly as something tugged on their line. They made a soft hissing sound as they reeled in a rather large, semi-colorful fish. Glee spread cross their face as they dropped it into the bucket nearby, which was... Sort of overflowing with fish. The deity hummed and got up, their rod vanishing into a puff of little triangles before the deity picked up their bucket, turning sharply and heading towards their little "fishing hut" as they called it. The fishing hut was more so something akin to a run down, fairly decent sized house you'd see a mortal demon taking up residency in. The house, at one point, was stunning, but now lie to waste near these murky waters. To anyone else, it would be waste. To Darkheart tho, it was their home now. A home that they didn't CHOOSE to have willingly. The deity entered, being greeted by the shifting of shadows and the skittering sounds of little creatures that also inhabited the space with them. They hummed, floating towards the kitchen area, simply dropping their bucket into the fridge [that somehow continued to work] before floating towards their bedroom. Darkheart's bedroom matched how they felt: Messy, unorganized and sad. The room was dark, only being illuminated by the moon that shone through the broken window, the curtains had long since been pulled down. Er- Oh well, CLAWED down that is. The deity floated over to the little desk under the window, several little trinkets seemed to lie there. Several trinkets Darkheart collected to remind them of people. A small green figure of a swordsman, poised and prepared for battle. Part of an old windchime, colored a soft blue with gold patterns on it. An old book, the gold clasp withered with age. A little snow globe, displaying a beautiful winter scene, a vibrant flower, it's red hues almost seeming to glow in the darkness, and a small dove figurine, the eyes seemed to watch them constantly. Darkheart stared at these items, these things that reminded them of demons, demons who they assumed loved them. That would care for them. Their tail coiled... And something snapped within the deity. They snarled, tail uncoiling and lashing around in the air as they gripped their arms roughly, digging their sharp dirty claws into their ashy skin. They clawed and scratched, babbling out nonsense as they did so. Nothing mattered right now, the pain didn't even seem to register to them as they continued to claw and tear at their skin. The coldness of their blood didn't feel like anything, Thick like ichor, spilling down their arms and staining the floor before. The deity choked back a sob as they stumbled back, sitting down at the foot of their bed. Tears began to spill down their cheeks, the odd runes around their own arm glowing brighter than they've ever glowed before. It hurt, it hurt so much. Why did everyone hate them? What had they done wrong? They just wanted to be loved. They just wanted someone to care.

#phighting!#phighting #phighting darkheart #self harm #blood #windy writes

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vizishereig · 2 months ago

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Meteor Shower Prompts

yeah, we're doing this, babyyyyy! these prompts are in the universe of my fic meteor shower (quick, take cover)

I hate to add rules, but I want this somewhat canon compliant, so we have a few.

Ships Allowed: Chreon and Serrenedy (and a secret third option that'll be revealed if you request a certain character!)

Some prompts will be Earth (E) or Scozai (S) exclusive :)

And! If you guys request what I'm calling B-Verse, you get to see the other story that I had for this universe! That one was Piers-centric :) he got taken to Scozai for reasons. B-Verse prompts must take place on Scozai, so no Earth prompts! oh, and the ship for B-Verse is Luis/Leon/Piers :)

Ocean (E)

Snow (E)

Topside (S)

Deep Dark (S)

Holidays (request literally any holiday :3) (E)

Stargazing

Livestock

Caverns

Fishing

Crafts

Procyon (Scozai's Racoon City event) (S)

Pumpkin Carving (E)

Exploring Decca (main city in Scozai) (S)

Flowers

Picnic (E)

Birthdays

Mountains (E)

Gems

Boats

Corn Maze (E)

Training

Movie Night (E)

Camping (E)

Lab

Forests (E)

Waterfalls

Zoos (E)

Aquariums (E)

Pets

Infected

#viz rambles #alien leon fic #guess im doing this >:3

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spicykaraage · 1 year ago

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Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Ryoma Echizen

[PROFILE]

Birthday: December 24th (Capricorn)

Blood Type: O

Birthplace: Los Angeles

Relatives: Father (Nanjirou Echizen), Mother (Rinko Echizen), Cousin (Nanako Meino), Cat (Karupin)

Father’s Occupation: Temple Priest (local)

Elementary School: Los Angeles Saint Youth Elementary School

Middle School: Seishun Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: First Year | Class 1-2 | Seat 3

Club: Tennis Club (Regular)

Committee: Library Committee

Strong Subjects: English, Chemistry

Weak Subjects: Science Experiments, Japanese

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Under the big tree behind the school building

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup USA Representatives ➜ U-17 World Cup Japanese Representatives

Favorite Motto: “All or Nothing.”

Daily Routines: Playing with Karupin

Hobbies: Bathing with bath salts from Japan’s famous hot springs ➜ Clearing games he’s borrowed, watching cat videos [23.5]

Favorite Color: Silver

Favorite Music: J-Pop

Favorite Movie: Any kind of Hollywood film

Favorite Book: Monthly Pro Tennis ➜ TENNIS LIFE (an American tennis magazine) [23.5]

Favorite Food: Grilled fish (with little bones), chawanmushi, local confections [23.5], shrimp senbei (plum and kimchi flavor) [removed]

Favorite Anniversary: Any day he can play tennis

Preferred Type: A girl that looks good with a ponytail

Ideal Date Spot: Santa Montica Third Street Promenade ➜ Santa Monica Pier Pacific Park [23.5]

His Gift for a Special Person: “Just tell me what you want.”

Where He Wants to Travel: A snow-viewing hot spring

What He Wants Most Right Now: Nintendo DS ➜ Nintendo 3DS [10.5 II] ➜ A smart watch [23.5]

Dislikes: Waking up early, cleaning the temple floors [removed], paparazzi [23.5]

Skills Outside of Tennis: Animals take a liking to him for some reason, can cleanly peel fruit [23.5], horseback riding(?) [TP]

Spends Allowance On: Fanta/Ponta

Routine During the World Cup: Soaking in an open-air bath

[DATA]

Height: 151cm ➜ 152.5cm [23.5]

Weight: 50kg ➜ 47kg [23.5]

Shoe Size: 24cm

Dominant Arm: Left

Vision: 1.5 Left & Right

Play Style: All-Rounder

Signature Moves: Twist Serve, Drive A, Drive B, Drive C, Drive D, Cool Drive, Selfless State, Pinnacle of Perfection, Samurai Drive, Hope [23.5]

Number of Times His Friend’s Visited Him While Abroad: 7.8 times a month

Favorite Brands:

Hats: FILA

Clothing: FILA

Racket: BRIDGESTONE (DYNABEAM GRANDEA)

Shoes: FILA (Mark Philippoussis Mid)

Fitness Test Results:

Side Steps: 71

Shuttle Run: 119

Back Strength: 102kg

Grip Strength: 42.3kg (left)

Backbend: 59.5cm

Seated Forward Bend: 39cm

50m Run: 6.1 seconds

Standing Long Jump: 237cm

Handball Throw: 28m

Endurance Run (1500m): 4:46

Overall Rating: Speed: 4 / Power: 3 / Stamina: 4 / Mental: 5 / Technique: 5 / Total: 21

Kurobe Memo: “Even though many areas already have a high degree of perfection, I suspect it’s highly likely he’ll continue to grow and improve. I would like to see him work on building his body without sacrificing balance.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bedroom [10.5]:

Trophies from past competitions // They’re placed randomly since he doesn’t really care for them

Alarm clock on his bed // The alarm doesn’t necessarily wake him up…

TV and game consoles // He has several types of game consoles but keeps the one he uses the most (Nintendo 64) connected to the TV

Closet // Where his school uniforms are stored. His mother will put them away if they’re left out

His pajamas he’s left out // He’s always in a rush when he gets ready for school

Karupin’s favorite cat toy // A cat tail toy

What’s in His Bag [10.5]:

A beginner’s guide to doubles // He bought it after playing doubles with Momoshiro. He forgot it was in there

Notebook // His math notebook he forgot to take out

Photos of Karupin // He insists that he didn’t put them in there

Notepad // He’s written down emergency phone numbers since he’s always late

Pen case

Game Boy Advance // Bought for him as a starting school gift, he plays it during his free time

Senbei // He drinks Fanta/Ponta when eating senbei

What’s in His Locker at the U-17 Training Camp [10.5 II]

Game console // A PSP. He’s absorbed in video games when he’s not playing tennis and has recently been playing a tennis game

Photo of Karupin // It’s one of his favorites

Fanta/Ponta // Grape flavor

Senbei // Having Fanta and senbei together is a must

What’s in His Travel Bag [23.5]:

Shio senbei from Okinawa // Gifted to him by Tanishi to celebrate his return to team Japan

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 11/02/2001

Although he’s lived in the USA, he still prefers Japanese food and isn’t fond of Western food

People tend to be aggravated by him due to his abrasive personality, but he means no ill-intent by it

He gained his arrogant and abrasive personality from growing up in the USA

He will speak his mind regardless of how it sounds as he believes it’s a way of being kind

His first name is written in katakana rather than kanji. It’s alluded that it may be due to his mother being another nationality besides Japanese

Konomi had Ryoma wear a hat since he thought it was cool, and wanted people to associate his FILA hat with him

He is called “Shorty” by Kikumaru but does not mind it since he states height doesn’t matter in tennis

He likes grape-flavored Fanta/Ponta

He keeps everything he needs for school in his tennis bag, hence why he gets confused when some items are still in it

His personality is described as pessimistic, but shy, gentle and always striving for improvement

Konomi originally did not intend for him to be the protagonist. The role was originally going to be given to Kintarou, with Ryoma being his rival. He initially thought Ryoma would be difficult to portray as a protagonist, be better as a sub character and that making him the protagonist would dampen the mood of the series. He eventually decided on Ryoma and built the other characters around him

Konomi describes him as a “bad guy,” and that him defeating people who are even worse is a focal point of the series

The Prince of Tennis 20.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2003

He is described to easily get engaged in a single subject and then excel in that area

When he concentrates, he will become so absorbed in what he’s doing that he will not pay attention to his surroundings

He is described to be suited for professions that require special skills, such as a pilot or astronaut

He is very susceptible to change and has an insatiable desire to become stronger

One of his favorite subjects is chemistry since the science behind the substances changing, combining and gaining different properties reminds him of tennis

He does not remember when he started playing tennis, and states he thinks he’s been playing it since he was born

His secondary sport would be soccer

The Prince of Tennis 40.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2007

He is described to be sociable and lively, but doesn’t get too involved in his personal relationships and tends to be reserved

His friends and schoolmates often visited his house when he lived in the USA

He did not know what “Old Maid” was until he played it at the joint training camp with Rokkaku

In Genius 305, when he had won his match against Atobe and everyone huddled around him, someone had quietly handed him the shaver, but it’s a mystery on who it was

He considers Kintarou to be quite strong, and wouldn’t mind having an official match with him someday

He is the character Konomi states he has the least in common with, the second being Tezuka

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 2 | Publication Date: 12/04/2009

He takes naps around the training camp along with Jirou

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 4 | Publication Date: 02/04/2010

He had gotten his hat mixed up with Sanada’s

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 5 | Publication Date: 03/04/2010

He likes his grilled fish with not many bones and finds removing them to be annoying

The person he currently dislikes the most is his father

If he had a long vacation, he would go play tennis on the western side of Japan since he states they have strong opponents

He wants to win all four major world tennis championships

When asked what kind of plant or animal he is like, he replies with a cat since they’re free-spirited

When asked what his current goals are, he replies that he wants to fight more stronger opponents and win against them

He is named after Ooka Echizen, also known as Ooka Tadasuke

Konomi came up with his “Selfless State” technique since he wanted to write a story where the main character’s dormant power would awaken when faced against an unbeatable enemy. And since Ryoma was a returnee, he had him speak in English to surprise the audience and give his scenes a fantasy-like feel

Konomi corrects his statement that Ryoma didn’t win national USA junior tournaments four years in a row, he had meant that when Ryoma started tennis, he had competed and won in regular USA junior tournaments four times in a row

Konomi states he has tried drawing Ryoma more mature as the series progresses and draws Ryoma’s shoes and racket bigger to make him appear smaller

One of His School Days:

6:30am - Woken up by his cousin

6:45am - Eats breakfast while half-asleep, goes to school

7:30am - Late for morning practice, does 30 laps

8:40am - 1st Period: Math, half-asleep and dozing off

9:40am - 2nd Period: English, Grammar, half-asleep and dozing off

11:00am - 3rd Period: PE, bar exercises

12:00pm - 4th Period: Geography (quiz)

12:50pm - Lunch, buys bread at the school store after eating lunch

1:10pm - Gives in and buys and drinks milk

1:20pm - 5th Period: Science I (physics), is sleepy from eating

2:20pm - 6th Period: Japanese (classic literature), thinks of ideas for volleys

3:20pm - Library Committee meeting, wasn’t listening

4:00pm - Club activities, earnestly practices volleys

5:30pm - Stops by Momoshiro and a CD shop, then returns home

6:00pm - Dinner, bathes (with bath salts from Beppu Onsen)

6:30pm - Rallies with his father

10:30pm - Plays with Karupin while listening to music

11:00pm - Falls asleep while playing games on his bed

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 9 | Publication Date: 09/02/2011

Mifune’s eagles are shown to be fond and gentle towards him

The Prince of Tennis II 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 09/04/2013

He texts his mother everyday asking her to send him pictures of Karupin

He quickly became friends with the dogs at the training camp

The Prince of Tennis II 23.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 05/02/2018

When he and Ryoga were younger, they went out to play and had gotten lost for three days. They eventually managed to hitchhike home

Konomi had originally intended to show him being anxious about joining team USA, but then being helped by them to join team Japan again

Konomi states he may continue his and Fuji’s match in the rain

The items Horio had brought to the camp for him were Fanta/Ponta

The Prince of Tennis 20th Anniversary Book: Tenipuri Party | Publication Date: 08/02/2019

He did not mind playing for team USA and states the country doesn’t matter as long as he can play tennis

He did not care about being on the same team as Ryoga and had actually wanted to play against him

He states he felt some changes when viewing team Japan from an outside perspective

He returned to team Japan because he had thought of the people who made him stronger and wanted to fight alongside them

#tenipuri #tenirabi #profile #my post #seigaku

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feverinfeveroutfic · 1 month ago

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Tijuana sunrise | kinktober 2024 | day x.: “tierra del fuego”

pairing: chuck billy x alex skolnick x oc

prompt: aquaphilia

word count: 4125

song: “floods” by pantera

Whenever I looked up to the trees on the slopes over the lake, I thought back to that one fire out there. I had come so close to being enswathed in the flames, the dance of the inferno with the towering pines at the helm, the scorched earth that surrounded me. I had made it out in one piece by some sort of grace that I never thought had existed before.

I made it out with nothing but the clothes on my back, my dog, and my cat. I had nothing but the two of them.

It looked like the end of the world. It looked like a pair of demon eyes staring back at me through the darkness as I clutched onto two balls of fur.

And it was the fear of being consumed that set me back from what I had felt from before. There was just something about being in those waters, in those icy blue waters that always made me feel as though I had escaped into the depths, into the realm of merfolk. Maybe I was actually born in the water, and I had the violet hair to show it as well.

However, it would be a full year before I could make a return to the lake and its rich, royal blue waters and the cinders that surrounded the perimeter, like I had come back to an old friend who had come out from the ashes as a brand-new kind of snake to shimmer even more under the soft, warm sunlight. The mountains around the lake’s edge were that deep blue, almost violet color. The trees whispered with the springtime winds.

My new place was nestled back in the trees down by the southern shore, whereby my animals and I could walk down by the water’s edge. The kiss of the fire stayed with me even with rain and snow over our heads. The rank odor of smoke still haunted the area.

I never wanted to lose my softness, the softness of water. The feeling that I could please and sense that same feeling within me.

The fire took almost everything from me, and it almost took me from me. I came so close.

On this particular day, the memory was strong in mind: I looked on at the vast burn scar against the trees as I made my way into town for some coffee and cat food. The earth still scorched and the trees still trying to climb back to their previous heights from before the inferno. I needed to find a way to exorcise the memory from the back of my mind, the way that it haunted me like a demon and persisted whenever I closed my eyes.

I rode my bike up to the front door of the pet store on the corner, whereby I was met with the whistle of the birds and the fish swirling about in the tanks. The beauty of the angelfish, the barbs, and the neon tetras made me think of the softness of water. To lay down in the water and wash away the scars and the tears of having lost everything.

With cans of shredded cat food and the dried kibbles in a little bag, I stepped back outside to the warmth of the afternoon sunshine when I spotted him right across the street down by the water.

He sat perched upon the edge of the pier with his legs and bare feet dangled down towards the blue waters. He peered over his shoulder at me, and he watched me with utmost intent. It wasn’t as if he leered at me: he looked like a young boy peeking at the cute girl of the neighborhood through the trees. Part of his hair covered his face and shoulders to make him look as though he was hiding. One hand on his upper arm, right near his shoulder.

Shy and boyish, and yet something about him stuck out to me. I had the cans of cat food in the bag, and I could fetch the coffee after I walked on over to him. I took a glimpse up and down the road prior to crossing, and I padded on across the pavement to meet up with him. He showed me more of a smile, and he shifted in his spot for a better look back at me.

His eyes seemed to glow as I came on closer to him and the pier.

“I couldn’t help but see you watching me,” I told him as part of my greeting to him.

“I was just looking at your cat food,” he replied in a warm, tender voice. “Like your cat’s going to be happy seeing those cans when you get home.”

“Oh, yes, he will be quite pleased,” I assured him, and I noticed his feet down in the water below the aged wood of the pier. “And I assume you’re enjoying yourself?” I asked him.

“Oh, you know it,” he told me with a cute, crooked little smile. “My friend went up to Zephyr Cove to get us something to eat, so—you know—” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just relishing all of… this here.”

“The water, the wind, the feeling of being out in nature,” I followed along. I stood right next to him, and I caught a whiff of the soft cologne on his neck and shoulders. His lips were full and smooth, and he had a little crooked shape to the bridge of his nose. His eyes were deep and soulful, and yet when he raised his dark eyebrows even ever so slightly, his entire face lit up.

“We like coming up here when it seems like the Bay Area is getting too hectic,” he explained. “A good little escape when it feels like we’re getting choked down there.”

“Now you know why I love living up here,” I pointed out to him.

“Oh, you are so lucky,” he declared with a shake of his head. “I think of coming up here and hiding out for a bit, just to see if I can do it. You know, do the whole lakeside survival thing for a few days, just to see if I can do it.”

“With your little body, I can see it happening,” I told him. “You look very sinewy and strong.”

“Surviving is in my blood, too,” he assured me with a wink, and then he extended a hand to me. “I’m Alex,” he introduced himself.

“Portia,” I followed up: those long, spindly fingers curled around the back of my hand, but his palm was soft and silken.

“The dynamic Portia,” he quipped. “Hailing from here at Lake Tahoe.”

“I’m actually from Carson City,” I explained as he let go of my hand. “But I moved up here a few years back to get away from the heat.”

“I heard there was a big fire up here last year,” he recalled.

“Yeah, right over here—” I gestured to the ridges right behind us, and he glanced back there. “I just barely made it out with my dog, my cat, and what clothes I had at the time. My house burned down, and all my neighbors got out of here and didn’t come back.”

“Wow,” he remarked.

“I came back here just last month,” I continued. “Found a new apartment right back here, and I’ve… just been trying to get my life back together.”

“I would imagine!” he declared. “In fact, when I look at you, I can kind of see the pain in your eyes. There’s… what I would call a ‘blues’ to you. I know that because I have that. This feeling of a soul against the world trying to kill you.”

“Interesting,” I remarked, and he splashed his feet a bit in the blue water beneath us. “We should go for a swim together,” I suggested to him.

He turned his attention to me with a thoughtful look on his face, and his hair twirled in the wind. He leaned back on his hands and spread out his legs on the aged wooden pier. The hem of his shirt rose up over his belt and the waistband of his jeans, which in turn showed off the thin stripe of skin on his waist.

“We should?” He showed me a playful little smirk.

“Yes. You and me.”

A little white truck with a camper shell rolled up behind us.

“And Chuck,” he added, and Alex lifted his feet out of the blue water, and he stood up next to me on the pier. He towered over me, this long and lanky boy with long lush black curls and a small tuft of light hair on one side of his brow. He was gorgeous and lanky, and his friend, this even taller burly boy with dark skin, bright eyes that seemed to sparkle back at me like the lake waters, and long wavy hair the color of molasses, greeted me with a soft, quaint smile.

“This is Portia,” Alex introduced me. “She has a cat, and that’s why she’s over here talking to me.”

“Darling Portia,” Chuck remarked in a voice that sounded as smooth and placid as the lake waters behind us.

“She also wants to go swimming with us, too,” Alex added.

“I’ve been wanting to swim around up here the last few weeks,” Chuck confessed. “Maybe you could show us around here come tomorrow?”

“I’d love to,” I said as I brought the bag of cat food before me. Another light breeze wafted up behind us which in turn made their hair twirl about behind their heads and shoulders. “I’m not really doing anything tomorrow, so I would love to be around you two guys for a day.”

“In the meantime, you take care of that kitty cat,” Chuck told me.

“Your dog, too,” Alex added with a glimpse over his shoulder back to him. “She’s got a dog, as well.” He returned to me. “What’d you say their names were?”

“Didn’t. My cat’s name is Freddie and my dog is Belle. Freddie’s an orange tabby and Belle’s one of those Bedlington terriers.”

“Forever and always.” Chuck patted his chest, and then he took my hand and kissed the back. He then gestured for Alex to follow him back to the truck parked behind us, whereby the latter flashed me a wink and a puckering of his lips at me.

I loved how soft-spoken those two were, and I had hope that our day at the water tomorrow would be something good, not just for them but for me as well.

I kept my eye on the lake waters out there, even as the veil of high clouds came in with the setting sun and painted the sky with spots of pink along with the veil of orange and violet. I wondered as to how we could do this, and most of all, how I could go about with it, in telling them that I needed this swim rather than take it in the name of leisure.

That next morning, after I had fed Freddie and Belle and took her for a morning walk, I put on my black and silver bikini underneath my clothes; it was my first time wearing it, and thus, I wanted to surprise them. I took her with me down to the water’s edge. It was a clear, warm day, one filled with radiant sunshine and not a wisp of a cloud in the sky. The truck had already parked down by the pet store, down by the pier, whereby I spotted Chuck already down inside the water, up to his ankles in that icy cold blue water, and yet he seemed to be enjoying it.

He nodded over at me and flashed me a wave. Belle then spotted him, to which she raised up her ears and began wagging her wiry little tail at him.

“Aw, do you see Chuck?” I asked her. Indeed, his face lit up when he spotted her, and he pointed her out to Alex, who was just beginning to climb out of the front seat of the truck wearing nothing more than a little white silk shirt. His hair seemed to twirl even without that much of a breeze around us.

“There she is,” he declared once we came within earshot of them. “And she’s brought her friend!” Belle’s tail seemed to fly at the sight of Alex, and even more so when he held his hand out for her to sniff. He scratched the soft curly fur right behind her ears, which only made her come on closer to him.

“Well, well, well, look who made a new friend,” Chuck declared as he tied his hair back behind his head in a loose ponytail.

“I assume she likes men,” Alex said with a straight face.

“Actually, no,” I said with a chuckle. “During the fire, she often barked at the firefighters and the cops escorting us out of here.”

“So I should consider myself pretty special!”

Alex showed me a little smile as he gave Belle a few more scratches behind the ears, and then he peeled off his shirt and showed me his bare body; he wore these soft-looking little black shorts that looked to be made of silk, while his body was slim and almost delicate. His skin had this slight olive tone to it, like he had been hanging out in the sun for some time before then, while his hair was as dark as night.

The sun shone down on him to the point his skin seemed to shimmer. The olive undertone to his skin, the darkness of his hair: he looked as old as time itself, much like the blue waters before us.

I coaxed Belle back so he could find his way to the water, and also so I could take off my clothes and share my bikini with them. But he stood at the edge of the pier and watched me with a slight squint to his eyes.

“Hold still, babe. Hold still.” She sat down on the ground and held out her velvety little pink tongue. Quickly, I kicked off my shoes, and I took off my top and my shorts. He raised his eyebrows at the silver lining on my bikini top, more so as the flat, smooth ends of my purple hair cascaded down onto the cups and the straps. Chuck turned around to see me as well.

“I feel like we just went back to the Seventies, Alex,” he remarked.

“The Seventies or the Sixties in England,” Alex followed up.

I then closed the truck door behind me, and I picked up Belle’s leash from the ground, and we walked barefoot over to Alex there at the end of the pier.

“How’s the water?” I asked Chuck.

“Quite chilly,” he said, and right as the words left his lips, Belle leapt right in next to him. We raised our arms up as she made the biggest splash into the shallow waters; indeed, the water was cold, but I knew we could take it. She lifted her head from the water, and she showed us her tongue.

“Oh, she’s happy,” Chuck told us, and without another moment’s hesitation, Alex and I took our spots on the edge of the pier with our feet in first.

“Phew, yeah, that’s cold,” he noted.

I flashed back on the fire, at those angry flames reflecting on the cold water below the rim, and somehow I managed to picture the four of us escaping the threat of being consumed alive by swimming through the lake.

I slid into the water first, and he followed suit right behind me.

The water was quite shallow, and thus, I led them out away from the smooth stones by the base of the pier.

I led them out to about twelve feet away from the shore, when I could feel the water rise up over my waist. A wave of dread then swept over me. The fire took everything from me, but the water could as well.

I turned my attention back to Alex, right as he dunked his head underwater for a few seconds. He returned to the surface with his bangs matted down onto his forehead and the tops of his eyebrows.

To escape the fire. To escape the flames and smoke behind us and begin a brand-new life. He did say he wanted to try out on surviving up there alone, after all. I glanced down to see the dark ground of smooth rocks right below our feet, and I knew the depths were perfect at that point. He sank down into the water again so his wet hair made a dove of sorts around his head and shoulders. I joined him in that as well.

“I feel like a sea creature out here,” he confessed.

“A sea creature, like a merman?”

“A merman, yeah!”

“When the fire was raging, I would dream of dipping down into the water and just letting my troubles fall away,” I told him. “Water washes away everything and makes it new again.”

“Fire’s a good cleanser, too,” he pointed out. “But water is much more calm.”

I thought about what he said about having the blues, and I wondered if he could use a bit of cleansing himself.

“I want you to lay flat on your back,” I advised him in a hollow voice, “and close your eyes. Hold your breath as long as you can. We’re gonna do this like a baptism because you and I both have demons inside of us, so let’s do this together.”

Alex then leaned back onto the water next to me. He lay down in the water with his back, right above the smooth rocks. I swam up right next to him.

His belly was soft and slightly rounded. He was soft, as soft as the water all around us. I put my arms around him and the water kissed the sides of my arms. I leaned my head against his deep chest, and I held my breath. He and I took the plunge into the blue water together.

It rushed into our ears. I could feel his fingers linking up with my own.

I could feel the fear even with a few inches of water between us. It almost felt as though we were drifting in the ocean, drifting into the abyss.

I couldn’t breathe. But I had a boy next to me, and he was holding my hand.

He squeezed my hand with those long and lanky fingers. I moved in closer to him to feel his body, the last thing I could feel before I drowned.

Alex then jerked his head up to the top of the water. I followed suit right next to him. Breathing hard, he bowed his head over the surface, and I joined in next to him.

Water dripped down the sides of his arms, down to his wrists and the surface of the water. Thin dark curls of black hair clung to his bare back, neck, and shoulders. He turned to me, through the thicket of wet hair spread over his face.

“How do you feel?” he asked me in a broken voice.

Before I could answer, I could hear splashing behind me. We turned to find Chuck right behind us with his hair matted to his head already.

“What’re we doing out here?” he asked us.

“Healing,” I replied. “We’re submerging ourselves and seeing how long we can hold it under the water.”

“Hold still,” Alex added in a broken voice. “Hold your breath.”

“I think I’ll join you guys,” Chuck told us, and he huddled closer to me. I turned to Alex. I couldn’t explain it but I could feel the rush between us. The threat of drowning ourselves. The feeling that I never could find during the fire. I was doing it with him at my side.

“Hold me close,” I whispered to him, and I ran my hands down the small of his back towards his ass. He let out a low whistle at the feeling, to which he raised his eyebrows at me.

“I want you to touch my nipples just right before I’m under the water,” I told him right into his ear. “Come up behind me and put your hands on my breasts and then finger me there.” I turned around to face Chuck, but I sank down in the water so he wouldn’t see us.

“Lay down flat on your back and close your eyes,” I told him. “Hold your breath as long as you absolutely possibly can.”

Chuck then nodded at me and held his breath, and he submerged his head under the water. Right as he did, Alex did what I told him to do: his long fingers caressed over my nipples, which I didn’t realize had risen into tight points inside of the bikini cups.

“Like that?” he whispered to me.

“Exactly like that,” I whispered back to him, and we dipped down into the water again.

My eyes closed. The water enclosed me like a tomb.

But I could feel Alex’s body behind me. Chuck’s body right up next to me.

If I was going to die, I would die with two boys on either side of me.

It felt like my lungs were about to explode when I darted on up to the water’s surface. Coughing, I looked back at Alex as he tilted his head back and took in the deepest breath.

The water dripped down the side of his face and down his nose. His hair stayed plastered to his face and neck like streams of kelp. He actually looked like a merman, with his soft skin and soaked dark hair matted to his skin.

“Fire…” he breathed out.

I lingered close to him, my arms around his body and my hands on his hip. I swore we could not have done that anywhere else. I had to do that in the lake waters, right near the burn scar.

“Land of fire,” he breathed into my ear.

Chuck surfaced from the waters behind us, complete with his long hair fanned out on either side of his head like leaves of kelp coming in on the ocean. He looked like the statue of an Indian right at the entrance of a reservation.

Belle barked at us from the shore, and all the while, her tail furiously flailed about.

“Better go see what she wants,” Chuck told me in a low voice. I glanced back to see her there on the rocks, soaking wet and still with the leash around her neck, and so Alex and I made our way back towards the shore to fetch her.

We spent most of the morning out in the water, but we never made a deep plunge like that again. And I offered them back to my place for some coffee and tea biscuits.

I would always want to be around the softness of water, even if it was as cold as ice even when the weather was warm.

Alex took his spot on my couch with a towel underneath him and the silk shirt around his body like a wide-open tapestry. While I was preparing the coffee, I noticed Belle seated before him and Freddie climbing up onto the couch arm right next to him, both of which took place much to Chuck’s amusement as he made his way down to the bathroom. I placed a plate of biscuits on the table next to him, even if he had his hands full.

“You wanna plunge again tomorrow?” he offered me as Freddie curled up next to him there on the couch, even with the wet towel poking out underneath him and even with Belle insisting on pets from him.

“If you wanna,” I told him with a shrug of my shoulders. “As long as it means you get to touch me again. When do you guys go back over to the Bay Area?”

“In a couple of days,” he replied.

“Well, then, it’s settled,” I assured him with a tap on the tip of his nose with my fingertip. “I like doing it with you guys because I know I’m not alone in this.”

“And no one is,” he assured me as he scratched Belle’s ears with both hands. “Especially not when you have friends with you, anyway.” He flashed me a wink, and a little smile, and it was right then I had a good feeling about these two boys, the first time I had a good feeling since before the fire happened.

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edgelordfinalboss · 1 year ago

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🌊OF SHARP STONES🌊

SECTION ONE: OCEAN

Chapter: Introduction//Prologue

Fandom: The Lost Boys (1987)

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Blood, Violence, Witch hunting, Witch burning, Witchcraft, Trauma and Character death.

Summary: A coven of witches living on the beach of Santa Carla have to deal with the death of their leader after a lethal witch burning that leads to the bounty hunting of both them and their romantic partners, the notorious lost boys of Santa Carla. Yet, something more terrifying lives in Santa Carla and it's the spirits of those killed by the hunting, begging for revenge.

Note: Please Like and Repost! It would be much appreciated. Thank you so much!!!

Fanfiction playlist:

🎠Kimora🎠

Night has long fallen.

Upon the pier sits a gathering of birds, crying out my summons within their own strange language. The beat of their wings, silvery and onyx along with the song of their caws once had filled me with awe. Now it's only a nuisance and a reflection of my shortcomings.

A witch without her familiar is as dangerous as holding a wild viper, no protection in her craft or against those who seek to harm her. The birds call out to a familiar seeking a witch but it seems that all of them are too far from earshot.

"Maybe they're dead, Kimora." The blonde lays across my lap, his blue eyes tinted with flecks of gold. "Or deaf."

"Don't speak of misfortune." I'm quick to hush him. "Paul, you know what happens when a witch loses her familiar or worse, never finds them."

"Maybe you have found them." Paul reaches for my hand, his bracelets shimmering and clinking against mine.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Star has David. She lost her familiar but with him, she seems quite fine." Our hands intertwine, the cold of his fingers becoming less bothersome with the passing of months. They cling on to the warmth of a recent feeding, but it's quickly passing, leaving the warm tone of his skin to pale to his unique silvery gleam.

"But she's not. You can't be my familiar, Paul. That doesn't even sound right." I lean back and listen to the magic below, the blue and turquoise waves crashing on the shore of the beach. It sounds much like electric currents, shifting through the waves, up and under the crash in the way that fish do.

"Oh, am I far too lame, not magical enough?" The dramatic part of him itches to push at my core but I can barely hinder my laugh, the true me that all the harsh training and shadow work could never bury away for good.

"No way."

"Then what is it?" Lifting himself, he throws his head back to slap me in the face with his golden hair. His beads and bangles chime softly, even the hook of sapphire stone and vibrant sea glass I hooked in his hair creates their own song.

"You don't understand witches. Our familiars can't be humans."

"You talk about witches like you're some kinda secret club, much like us vampires but witches always have to be superior, you can't sit with us types." Paul jokes around. "Well, I'm not human."

"Familiars have to be ancient spirits in the form of animals," I say, pretending to be tired of going back and forth with him. "Not human, not vampire, not werewolf, not witch."

"I know." His breaths slow. "But what about us? When that animal comes, cat, dog, or whatever you'll have less time for me. Less time for our jukebox dinners, less time to play records or shred a guitar with me. I'm scared that I'm gonna lose you."

Paul has always been the small feeling of warmth that lasts in my heart through the lonely nights, the reason I would sneak away from the coven's beach house at twilight. When I had first met him I was far different, plump with pecan tan skin and a hunger for familiarity, a hunger for the snow-capped mountains and the endless wildness of home.

Now my muscles have formed from straining the magic within my blood, dancing with it, and burning my skin under the scorching Santa Carla sun. My body, one I was unhappy in had grown consistent in muscle mass, yet, still, I've found no peace in my self-perception. Paul was a force to be reckoned with on his own but still, somehow he'd remained playful and carefree.

It was what drew me to him amongst other listable things, of course.

He was the cool water on the scorching sand.

"Do you really think a familiar will change things?" I lift my hand to his face, cupping his cheek.

"You'll be doing much more magic." He whispers. "You and the coven might disband."

"Never."

"Star left the coven and joined us." He looks off in the distance as a ship rings its bell across the waves. The chime echoes in my head, ringing as I try not to get lost in my thoughts.

"She lost her familiar. It was no way that we could convince her that she was still one of us. She was also terrified of her family's judgment." I hold his hand tight.

We both sit in silence as the ship passes below us, heading towards the boardwalk. Leaning against his shoulder, I wonder if he truly believes it. Lines of bright gold lights up a clear path through the ocean as the blue and white hunk of metal slices through the waves.

"And you know how much Darla loves Marko and Dwayne has the hots for Angel."

"Yeah."

"Your uncontrollable powers and my hunger for blood." He chuckles. "We make one deadly duo."

"And none of us will age." I say. "We'll always be young."

I stand up, called to the trees by something that rings through my blood like the bells of the ships docked. I know it isn't that though because this sound is far too strong. It isn't tangible or has a source I can pinpoint. Though, it's personal.

Paul stands with me, the metal decor of his jacket jingling softly as we leave the wooden pier and head toward the beach. He silently follows close, not questioning my reasoning as he used to. It's our ever-growing trust combined with the little things that my magic has found that keep him from stopping me. Antiques and small trinkets, sometimes trespassers on witchland that made him a nice blood snack, and another picture on the missing board.

The lights of the ferris wheel and the millions of attractions splayed out across the boardwalk catch my eye but the feelings running strong through my veins keep me on my path, strengthening it so that if I wanted to break away from it, my attempts would be in vain.

The wood of the pier disappears into metal gates, chain link fences, and sand as we cross the threshold, the waters fading into golden sand stretches and shrubs. The salty smell of the water fills my nostrils, a smell that took nearly six months to get used to.

My eyes stay on the trees swaying in the wind, the shadows that dance on the forest floor through the space where light pierces through the veil of darkness. The birds on the pier, the servants of the witches lift and fade into the night as flashes of black.

Maybe it's my familiar. I doubt it though.

My feet don't stop as Paul steps to my side, his eyes filled with worry and a silent plea to turn around. It's unclear if he can sense that something is wrong. If even the vampire feels the stillness in the air, I know I should note.

The tree branches poke into my sides as I slap them away, moving farther and farther through the forest. They leave scars on my face, drawing blood as the pines reach out. The ground thins but my feet are dragged along by a sensation burning through my body, seeping into every part of my being. The sweet smell of pine hangs on the leaves, getting stronger with each step.

"No!" I fall to my knees as the earth slants downward, leaving me without a foothold as Paul does the same. Shocked, even he's not fast enough to hold us both up as we plummet down into the earth's pore.

Through the crashing and thrashing, nothing holds me. With every rock that my feet touch, they simply fall with me and the awkwardly twisting branches snap.

I dislodge pieces of the earth as I grapple at stones, slippery with what feels like ocean mist. My feet kick up stones and gravel as I fall. Paul calls me as he half floats, half falls through the space.

"Blood!"

Halfway through calling me, he stops.

With one last slam into the earth, it all gives away and I hit the ground with no warning. Pines cones and needles lay under my back with the occasional stone ripping into my skin.

The sky hangs above dotted with thousands of blinking stars, twisting and twirling in the night sky. They fall around the moon as if in mourning, a sign that had only happened during the final witch trials, the symbol that marked the last burning, never happening before or again in history.

Crunching on the leaves breaks my eyes away from the sky, the panic of Paul reminding me that this isn't some weird dream. That this is real and my blood, the life of me led me here.

"Kimmy." His hands find my face.

I look up and see his fangs and the tremble of his body, the attempt to keep himself from vamping out.

"What?" I lift my eyes to the circle of sticks that surround me against the trees, each stick only a few feet away from the other in the clearing with charred lumps attached to them with the smell of magic and blood in the air. I can barely make out what they are, but like some ancient connection that ignites the primal fear of all witches, I scream loud and guttural.

I gasp, dragging myself up despite the pain in my back and arms. My feet threaten to drag me back down as Paul fights against his hunger and true nature.

"No. No. No!" I scream to the poles, to the bones that remain, and the blood that seeps from the pine wood to the earth. Small crosses litter the earth, poking up from the litter of dried-out pine needles.

My magic threatens to burst from my veins and set the entirety of Santa Carla's forest ablaze but Paul's grip on me keeps me restrained. Not that could but I would do anything to calm my anger and fear.

The memories of this place go straight to my head with a hazy fog as I touch a torn piece of fabric from a frilly young witch's blouse that hangs on the splinters of the partially burnt pole.

The scene comes to me. It smells of sage and warm cinnamon pies, the dinners of the witches of the bluff, a coven far from the boardwalk but within walking distance of the beach. They had always been rather kind but different from my coven.

The witches of the bluff were far more open with magic as the sight of tarot cards, wands, crystal balls, and herbs come to mind, attractions to bring in humans, to make money.

The scene shifts to darkness, of the blue-tinted sky of the evening shifting into the night, of the first stars blinking around the moon. They're alive.

Screams come next and magic, oh, glorious magic. Gold and pink, cobalt and deep green as men dressed in black march with each witch carried and dragged with rope, their powers subdued with flames upon wooden sticks wrapped with cloth.

A young hippie witch, much younger than me, dressed in pink falls to the ground as a man pulls on her ropes with a cruel laugh that boils my blood. Pieces of sleeves rip as she fights against a pole, her magic, a flash of bright yellow flares from her palm so bright that the man who holds her rope shrieks.

She's so ferocious and strong but in the face of hatred, in the face of terrified men, she's nothing but a weak attempt.

I gasp, my lungs burning as life returns to me and the past fades away. The witches are no longer fighting for the last bits of life. They're long gone, burnt corpses above us like angels of death.

Paul holds me tight, suppressing his hunger. His claws dig into my skin as I linger at the foot of a pole.

My head twirls again and I hear her voice. The voice of our High Priestess calling in my head, her cries strained by sobs and gasps for air. Between her screams for help is the sound of leaves crunching as something heavy drags across the earth.

Her life flashes away like smoke, the scene of ropes binding her hands as magic the color of fire spills from her fingers as she tried to do what was right fades.

I know her intentions as if they're my own. She gave her life as the ropes of death snatched her noble existence away in little more than a few seconds. Now our coven is without a leader. Without a teacher, without a figure to keep us strong.

She's dead, snatched away from my coven when I should have been right at her side, even if that meant death.

And I'm without a glimpse of the faces and the bloody hands that took her away from me.

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oftlunarialmoon · 9 months ago

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32 Summer Fun Ideas!

originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on May 14, 2017

Ciao lovelies! Today, let’s talk about fun things to do in the summer!

Summertime is a lovely season. The sun is shining, the sky is blue, the birds are happy and so are you! Well, maybe. You might be bored as well. But I’m here to help, with 32 super fun things to do this summer!

Learn a New Skill!

Something great to do with your freetime is to learn how to do something new.

Some things I’d suggest are:

-Sewing! Sewing is great because you can make yourself new clothes, accessories, etc!

-Knitting! Knitting is said to be very therapeutic and fun, and you can make clothes and scarves and hats!

-Music! Teach yourself to play an instrument. A great instrument for beginners is Piano! I learned to play piano as a child and it helped me with math and other logic skills!

-Dancing! Teach yourself some fun dances to do! YouTube is a treasure trove to find cool dances you could try and replicate!

-Writing! Brush up on your writing skills this summer and write poems, short stories, or even a full book! Or just keep a journal.

-Cooking! Summer would be a great time to learn new recipes! You could learn to cook or bake new things and let your family test your results!

Arts and Crafts!

Summer is a great time to do arts and crafts! I suggest first going on YouTube and making a playlist of diy ideas you want to do, and see if you can do all of them before summer ends!

Some DIY Craft Ideas:

-Dreamcatcher

-Friendship Bracelets

-Slime

-Pressed Flowers

-Hairbows

Check out any free local events!

Check your local papers and library for free local events! You could find tons of cool stuff, like concerts for local bands, local small conventions, volunteer opportunities, or the chance to meet new friends!

I also recommend going to your local library anyway to pick up some books on new, exciting subjects to learn about, like interesting periods in history or books teaching you some of the skills from #1! My local library even has a chess table set up, free to use for anyone! It’s tons of fun.

Go to the Beach!

A traditional and super fun thing to do in the summer is to go to the beach! There are tons of fun things to do in beach towns, so go nuts!

You could:

-Collect shells and make crafts with them later

-Do a fun beach photoshoot with yourself, some friends, and some dolls, or even pets!

-Get a henna "tattoo" from a local shop!

-Buy one of those super useless but fun tourist knick knacks and put it somewhere fun in your room!

-Take pictures and get them developed and make a scrapbook!

-Go swimming!

-Sunbathe!

-You can fish if the beach has a fishing pier!

-Eat ice cream or snow cones!

-Go in cosplay or costumes and walk along the boardwalk. For extra fun, stay in character!

-Take video and make a vlog out of it!

-Bring an instrument and play some music!

-Go boogieboarding!

The possibilities are endless. Going to the beach is a great way to make memories in the summer time!

Spend time with those you love!

-Spend time with your family! Take lots of pictures of them and make a scrapbook of all your family memories!

-Call your extended family for a fun chat!

-Spend time with your pets! Take them on walks, give them baths, give them treats, play games with them, scratch their favorite spots.

-Hang out with your friends! Arrange a sleepover! Or arrange a big meetup of all your friends and go out and do something special! Hang out at a park or go out on the town! Maybe film vlogs or take pictures!

-Spend time with your significant other if you have one! It’s okay to not have one, and don’t feel rushed to get one. If you have one, plan a nice surprise date. Or just go to the park or beach and sit calmly and talk with them!

Stay awesome, please remember to love yourself and have a great day/night/etc!!

#worksheets #agere class #agere classroom #agere daycare #agere school #agere #age regression #sfw agere #sfw littlespace #age regressor #sfw age regression #agereg #age dreaming #sfw little blog #agere blog

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willoftrees · 2 years ago

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Severe Snowstorm in Edmonds, Washington Winter 2021 (part II)

Edmonds Fishing Pier, taken by me

#old #Edmonds Fishing Pier #blizzard #blizzard at night #blizzard on pier #fishing pier in snow #fishing pier at night #art ref #ref #willofarts #willofart #snow #snow at night #Snowstorm #scenery #pnw #Washington

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thatgirlissopeculiar · 1 year ago

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Dream’s dnf fanart likes

August 23rd

George and Dream bts of the Everest music video, George wearing the too big cat ear beanie

two different versions of baby!Dream telling the moon to wake up and kid!George waking up

various doodles of behind the scenes of the Everest music video, top left: George and Dream, George wearing the too big cat ear beanie, bottom left: Dream putting a lei around George's neck, right: the DTeam looking at Mt Everest

three versions of itt!dnf hanging from a dandelion

itt!Dream looking at itt!George, who is upside down from the top of the image (plus a tweet Dream liked of the artist celebrating him retweeting the art)

itt!George getting flustered while taking a picture of itt!Dream

Dream laying in the snow, George on top of him from the bts of the Everest music video

itt!George calling the the spectral fish they're riding on 'beautiful', itt!Dream looking at him and agreeing

George and Dream looking at each other, in black and white

a pencil drawing of George and Dream from the Everest music video bts, George in the too big cat ear beanie

Dream leaning his chin on George's shoulder, both wearing star cat ear beanies

soup!George and roll!Dream

itt!Dream and itt!George holding hands

Dream and George bts of the Everest music video, George in Dream's cat ear beanie

soup guy and cinnamon roll guy

a gif of 'Dream' and 'George' in front of the Eiffel Tower, 'DNF' and blue and green hearts above them, a big subscribe button below them

Dream holding an umbrella out over George

blob!dnf in a field, under a rainbow

close ups of band au dnf, George with blue in his hair and blue make up in a star around one eye, Dream with green in his hair and green make up in streaks under his eyes

Dream, mask on, ruffling George's hair, hearts above his head

itt!Dream and itt!George reaching out to each other

George and Dream, George wearing the too big cat ear beanie

cinnamon roll!Dream and soup!George

c!George in a mushroom hat, c!Dream in a green hoodie

a puppy and their green and blue art <3

various little blob!dnf doodles

a redraw of a screenshot of George and Dream from the DTeam Santa Monica Pier stream

tiny!dnf standing beneath some mushrooms, holding hands

various Everest music video bts moments, including Dream leaning super close behind George

Manager Ken and Dream in the studio, Dream sitting on the floor writing in a book, Ken holding a guitar and telling Dream to tell 'him' how he feels

#dreamnotfound #dnf #dreamnotfound fanart #Dream__Fanart #twitter #well those were certainly some likes #a few captions called them boyfriends a few implied it and one straight up called them soulmates alright Dream #I included the one with Manager Ken cause who else could it mean?#also souproll my new favourite ship <3 #as always I do encourage you all to check out the rest of the art he liked

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archetypal-archivist · 1 year ago

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A Kinder World AU- Part 7

Luzu’s House

masterlist

1) The main entrance to Luzu’s house is actually only accessible from the water and that’s wholly intentional. Although the man loves guests (the ones that are polite anyway) he is very happy to troll people too. Having five or six row boats crowded in front of his door always makes him giggle when it comes time to invite people over for tea, coffee, and brownies. The reason he has his door so close to the water, however, is to make it easier on himself to get home. As a fisherman, he’s often out on the water for long hours, and as Luzu, he tends to stay out far later than is considered healthy. Sometimes, when time slips away from him, he’ll stay out all night to fish by the light of a lantern, only coming home when the sun rises. Having a potassium deficiency doesn’t help matters, as some of his symptoms during flare-ups including irregular heartbeat, brain fog, muscle weakness, and at its worst, disorientation and mental regression. On such days, having his bed be only a few ladder rungs away rather than a full walk down the pier is a necessity.

2) Luzu is a gentle, sleepy soul and he will sometimes take a day off to pull his boat up onto the sandspit under his house and nap there for a time. Tilin, who he often babysits, loves to join him and the child will happily snuggle into his sweater for a nice afternoon siesta. Luzu never comments on it but he always remembers his dreams, which often depict the past with alarming accuracy. Perhaps the trait is to make up for the memories that are lost when his mind slips away from him, who knows? Only Tilin is there to witness his nightmares and they’ll never tell.

3) Luzu’s house is of fairly standard make and model and was given to him for a reduced price by Vegetta due to their long-running friendship that dates back to their high school days. The first floor consists of a small bathroom, a combined living space and kitchenette, and his bedroom, with a small study on the second floor that he’s since refurnished into a second bedroom. He’s a fairly decent cook and is happy to provide for his guests but for himself, he often cooks things with bananas in them. Banana pudding, banana ice cream, banana bread, bananas on toast, bananas in his cereal- he works hard to get enough potassium in his diet to mitigate the worst of his deficiency. Children like Tallulah and Bobby don’t mind this quirk of his, but not everyone is so happy to open his fridge for a snack and see a wall of banana-filled foods looking back at them. Dapper is probably the only child in town that’s never stayed with Luzu and the bananas are a not insignificant part of that.

4) The second level of Luzu’s house sees an ever-rotating panel of guests ranging from drunken adults (Quackity) to grieving parents (Maximus) but the most likely resident of his second bedroom is gonna be under the age of fourteen. Given Quackity’s sometimes lax parenting and the desire from some of the parents to have an off day, it’s not uncommon for Luzu to stash a kid in his second bedroom for a sleepover until things improve for everyone involved. He rarely minds so long as the kid in question is polite and doesn’t outright try to prank him, but if the child is naughty he’s all too happy to prank them right back. Luzu is the first one to break out the water guns, as he did during the summer at the start of the narrative, and the last to have a word in any argument he’s involved in if he can help it. The man may always have a smile but he’s vicious with the peanut butter and banana peels.

5) Luzu’s light is always on. Always. Rain, shine, snow or storm, Luzu’s light is a beacon both for himself and for anyone lost in need of a calm place of respite from the world. Even at his most delirious, Luzu has engrained it into his soul to follow the light and it will lead him home- and it seems others have followed this method as well. People go to Roier when they’re ready to solve their problems, or go to Rubius is they need someone to give them unbiased advice. Luzu simply listens, and sometimes, that’s a body needs. A silent boat carries a troubled mind to his door in the middle of the night and he’ll be there with a beer and a patient smile, ready to hear whatever a person needs to say in order to feel better. Such late night confessions mean that Luzu always has a handful of secrets he keeps close to his chest, but he’s good at that- he has a few secrets of his own, too.

-------

(For those of you wondering, Arin is indeed a product of Luzu’s potassium deficiency and he’s 100% a thing in this AU. And potassium deficiencies are scary things and can very much cause things like Arin to pop up, my grandma has a deficiency and when she doesn’t take her supplements, she apparently starts talking and acting like a child. Freaked her husband out the first time it happened and they took her to a hospital asap, eesh.)

#qsmp #a kinder world au #mc #my writing #luzu #quackity smp #townscaper

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aetheltrythh · 1 year ago

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On the Origin of Dream's Raven Kink

I've finished a new fic, you can read it also on AO3. Thanks to @tryan-a-bex for beta reading :-).

Summary

Dream of the Endless has not always had a raven. Not until he got the raven kink from a cave woman named Lusyjen.

Notes:

With a story like this, every word is a potential trap for some sort of historical inaccuracy, so, kindly suspend your disbelief and let's go!

Prologue

"Dream of the Endless always has a raven," Lucienne says, tilting her head, brimming with concern, as I am about to leave for the Waking again, standing on the pier at the sea of dreams and nightmares.

No, not always. You forget. It has been long.

You were the first one and after you, I could not do without a raven.

Only now, I must. It is a fair story that you are trying to tell me, but "Jessamy was the last."

I could not protect her. It is as if a part of me died. Yet another part. If the pain of it will ever pass, I do not know, although I am aware that all memories dull with time, even mine. The bond was... strong. I spent much time looking at the world through her eyes. I know what she would tell me if she was here now and discarded her usual diplomacy. That I should get out more. Use my own eyes. That I do not really need her. But I do. Company is a rare thing. I think you are here for something else, I can still hear Hob's voice in my mind. I am loath to admit it but I do yearn for something, someone. Perhaps I should put more trust in Lucienne, if not in anyone else. Though I am not sure whether I know how. Whether I ever have. She told me she did not feel abandoned when the Dreaming started to crumble and the library was lost to her. But she must have felt... lonely. And yet she remained, even if she could have crossed to the Waking.

I must find a way to make it up to her. Alleviate her burden. Otherwise, there may come a day when everything is too much, even for her.

She does not see my hands tremble as I face away from her and the sea parts before me.

Lucienne

45,000 years ago in what is today mainland Greece (and remember folks, this is the Ice Age).

The nights grow longer; another season of cold and snow is nigh. I know that I will not...would not...last through it. My tribe knows that too. Nobody has said anything, but when we arrive in a deep valley wherein lies a cave that I hold most sacred - and therefore, they do too - we stop. Shelters are built among the trees in front of the cave. We... they...will be here for days after....

I am not afraid. Or am I?

When the preparations are done, four of the men carry me inside, where a fire burns already. I can no longer smell the salt and fish in the air from the sea - the great water that one cannot drink - as I could outside. It is not far. Shadows would lengthen for maybe one ell before one would arrive at its shore. I am fond of the sea though it is also dreadful. They lay me down on a flat stone covered by several layers of fur. Many years ago, my mother and I put paintings on these walls. Ravens and wolves. Facing my father's and brother's red deer and horses painted in red ochre. They are still there, but now I can barely see them. My eyes have weakened to the point of not being able to find herbs in woods and meadows, making me rely on my nose. My remaining teeth are worn out. I can only eat, with difficulty, the most tender meat and berries and mushrooms. My joints are painful and swollen when walking from sunrise to sunset. Hunting is a thing of the past. I have lost half of my hair and I know that there is some foulness in my blood. I have lived much longer than most. Perhaps it is a thing that happens when one has seen too many winters. The cold consumes the soul's strength coursing in one's veins. I am the wise woman of my tribe, a wosa, and yet there is so much I do not know.

I thumb the cave lion teeth hanging from a flax string around my neck. They have as many notches in them as all fingers and toes of two healthy people together. For as long as I can remember, I have been making a notch for every time that the snow melted and birches and oaks sprouted new leaves, heralding the spring and the coming abundance of food. My finger stops on the second notch of the oldest tooth, yellowed by time; that was when I first encountered ravens. Magnificent black birds, their feathers shiny like water flowing over rocks. None of us has seen such as them in the land from which we journeyed, in need of more space and more game. Others of my tribe thought them croaking, but to me, they spoke. Not in words, precisely, but in visions and feelings. Two ravens have been following me ever since. The elders did not believe me. I was too young for such things, they said. A few years later, when I crafted a lightweight spear with an antler tip as I saw it in a vision of other people making it - I observed them as if I was perched on a tree right above them - the elders shook their heads. A child's toy, they said. A spear must be thick and have a stone tip, they said. When I returned to our settlement with a deer so large I could barely carry it, they began paying attention.

A pair of ravens now wait silently outside the cave for my last flight. As usual, they have been given the best meat from this morning's kill in sacrifice. And eyes. They need them for their farsight. I can feel their contentment. They will mourn me but they know that all things must end. As did their predecessors; they are not the first ones. It is only natural and proper. My niece and nephew begin to play their flutes made of mute swan bone. Another notch on the first tooth calls me to touch it. That was the year I first saw the strange man-shaped spirit in my dreams. I have seen him many times after but he never spoke and I never told anyone about him. He would not have approved of that, I felt. But I know that it is he who has been helping me to guide shards of people's souls back to their bodies. It is an easy thing for a soul-part to wander off into the unseen realms after a terror or loss. Not so easy to lead it back where it belongs. I have also been reconciling the malevolent spirits that cause pains and ailments. But that too, has its bounds. I can no longer lure them away from myself.

I open my eyes. The man-shaped spirit stands two steps from the foot of my stone bed as if called by my thoughts. Even though he has never appeared to me outside of the dreamworld, even here, I am the only one who sees him. The others but avoid the space where he is standing. He is nothing like men of the waking world; his face is smooth like a young woman's, skin without a fault, as light as the palest seashell. No one has that, not my kin, not any people I have heard of in the countless trading circles I took part in. And then there are his eyes... I grew accustomed to them and they are kind but the colour is all wrong. Blue as the sea in sunlight. And yet, they are beautiful. He looks sorrowful, more than usual, but even so, the corners of his lips move slightly upwards when he looks at me and nods. I shut my eyes again.

The men of my tribe approach me one by one, touching my arms and shoulders, then fanning out towards the light coming from the cave entrance. The women do the same, only, they take positions in the opposite direction, heading further into the darkness and its heart; there is a passage there, leading down to a cavern with a lake where rocks hang from the roof like the limbs of the sea creatures that have so many of them. The women are to guide my soul into the shadows before it can enter another world, if the Great Mother wills it so. I would perhaps welcome it.

A vision that I have had for a long time bothers me as I have never been able to truly grasp it. Perhaps I will when I join my ancestors. I have been making signs, not only on my lion teeth, but on countless bones, on cave walls, on wood, and in the dirt. To mark the passage of the moon and the sun, to imitate what animal footprints and herb leaves look like and thus capture their essence to persist long after I am dead. But what if there was more than that? A way to keep our songs and the stories that we tell when sitting at the evening fire. The earliest ones I have heard are long gone from my memory. I wish they weren't.

I breathe slowly. I am ready. Almost no one dies like this, without much pain. I am lucky. My chest is heavy and I fall into the warm embrace of sleep.

***

When I wake, I know that I have left my body, irrevocably. Sitting up, I look around myself. Still in a cave, but it is different. This one has an even higher ceiling and a large opening through which a myriad of stars are shining. At the sides, several fires are burning, each of a different colour. I touch my feet slowly to the ground. Sand. I look to the far end of the cave.

"Welcome in my realm and in my abode, Lusyjen." The pale spirit hasn't opened his mouth, but I can hear his words all the same. His first words to me. "Come closer." He sits in a stone seat, several steps above the floor, black fur with long hair from an animal unknown to me wrapped around his bare shoulders, legs covered with a sort of black-hide leggings, the reason for which I cannot understand as his dwelling is summer-warm. No matter, the ways of otherworldly beings are incomprehensible. They have their own reasons for everything and their moods are volatile. Behind him, gemstone crystals are protruding from the wall, larger and clearer than all the stones that traders have ever brought before me.

I come to stand still at the foot of the steps. What he is, I do not know even now. Not a spirit of forests or rivers. Not of the mountains or the sea. Something larger than that still. Perhaps the Moon himself. The pale guardian of night and sleep, clothed in the colour of raven feathers.

I bow my head as he descends to me. Not knowing how to address him properly, now that he has decided to use words, in my mind, I conjure a vision of wolves honouring the night and the moon with their howls, of the silent wings of night owls, and of children fast asleep in their mothers' arms.

He gently lifts my chin and looks into my eyes. "You may wonder why you are here. It is within my power to offer you residence in the Dreaming and my protection, as you died in your sleep." The Dreaming...that's what he calls this other world then. The whole of it is...his? Observing me with curiosity, he sits upright, hands planted firmly on the sides of his seat. Then he leans slightly leans forward. "In turn, I would ask you to be my messenger and my eyes and ears in the waking world."

"Yrshaya," I say; a word for someone of great esteem and status. "It would be my honour."

One does not refuse a call to serve a being such as him.

"Very well." He smiles in a small, secretive way. Something stirs in my chest... I have never had children but I would offer my protection to him too, however insignificant it may be, as I would protect and care for a young one. He is so thin. Like we sometimes are after a season of poor hunting. "You may choose any form that you like. A woman. A man. An animal. Anything in between. You are no longer bound to mortal flesh."

For a little while, I think about it, but I have no real doubt.

"A raven."

And then, I am much smaller and I have wings. Extending them, I look at my new feathers and try to flap them. They lift me into the air and I land on the nearest thing - the spirit's shoulder - which is also a very good place to be. He angles his head towards me and strokes my back lightly.

This gives me the boldness to ask, "Do you have a name, yrshaya? I should like to know, if I am to serve you."

His voice rumbles at the back of my head and when it does, there is no space for anything else. "Not a name like yours. But. I am known. As. Dream of the Endless. The Prince of Stories. And the Shaper of Forms."

Dream.

What Endless might be, I cannot grasp. All things must end, and begin, again and again. But I know now that I have always been his creature. It is right. I am skilled at moving in the dreamworld and bringing back stories to tell men and women to heal them. I know the Waking and the seen and unseen paths of people and animals, even though I yearn to learn more.

I cannot resist carding through his hair with my beak and brushing my head softly against his cheek. Sitting down on the steps with a sigh, he lets me.

Notes

I have done quite a lot of research for such a short fic, but still, there is probably a lot of bullshit. A good things is that no one who has lived in that time is going to read it, so hopefully, no one will be personally offended :D. Unless we have a paleolithic Hob Gadling among us.

The climate was much colder in the Ice Age than it is today, even in the Mediterranean. Hence the concern with winter.

I do not know where the word wosa came from According to ChatGPT, it's not from any known language, so I hope I haven't stolen it from some work of fiction. If so, please tell me.

I set the story at the beginning of the upper paleolithic transition, which is supposed to be the beginning of 'modern' humanity. It looks like we have started to think in new ways and do lots of new shenanigans. See for example this video by John Vervaeke from cca 00:26:00

The common notion is that women in hunter-gatherer societies did not hunt, just gather, but it’s not that clear anymore. They actually may have.

Regarding blue eyes, that would be shocking at the time. Literally no one had that, the trait started to develop from around 10,000 years ago. Regarding light skin colour, it is my understanding that even in people who migrated to northern regions such as Europe and Asia, at this point, it wouldn't have had time to develop. Dream is supposed to look like to the person who sees him, but I did this to emphasize that Lucienne can see his otherworldliness.

I am horrible, I just had to dress Dream in pre-historic leather pants and some spectacular fur over bare chest and shoulders :-).

The question is, when does Lucienne become the librarian? If it's with the invention of cuneiform, she'll have to wait for quite a bit before her vision comes true...

#the sandman #dream of the endless #sandman fanfic #lucienne #lucienne becoming dream's raven #pre-history #shamanism

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