#go to sleep airam

[magnusedom]

EDDIE, EDDIE, YOU'RE DRIVING. GET OFF

[run-on-lightning]

So this is what avocados think of fusion! She certainly reminds me of Yellow and Blue Pearl...

[candyredmuses]

Am reminded how much of a tsundere brat she can be.

[archivalwrite]

♥ - Brian for airam !! - deathxdefied

what if we kissed . . . || accepting

@deathxdefied

If we kissed? [x] Quickie. [] Tongue. [] Softly bite your lip. [] We wouldn’t. [] Long but meaningful. [] Let’s hit up the bedroom. [] You remember last time? [] Awkward… [] Lol no.

Would I go out with you? [] Yes, definitely. [] No. [] I want to, but it wouldn’t work. [x] Maybe. [] Nope, you’re like family. [] You’re cute, but probably not. [] i like having you as my friend [] Just simply not my type. [] If I knew you better. [] Already did. [] I don’t know.

If we took a picture together, we’d be… [] Hugging each other. [x] Just chilling. [] Holding hands. [] Kissing. [x] Acting dumb. [x] Normal picture. [] You holding me from behind.

You are… [x] Cute/Pretty. [] Good looking. [] Sexy. [] All of the above

You + me + room = … [x] Movies. [] Cuddling. [x] Hanging out. [] Kissing. [x] Playing games. [] Everything. [] Wouldn’t let you in.

You should… [] Hit me up. [] Be mine. [] Marry me. [] Reblog this so I can send you a heart. [x] be studying

If we got married, I’d… [] Divorce you. [] Make kids. [] Take your money and bounce. [] Smash every day. [] I would cheat on you. [] Be faithful. [] Kill you in your sleep [x] We wouldn’t

[bondsmagii]

so a while back I was talking about extensive blacklists and somebody messaged to see if I wanted screenshots of a very impressive blacklist from an old Discord server they were in. of course, I did. here are the aforementioned screenshots as promised -- naturally the person wishes to remain anonymous, but here’s what they said:

hello, t'was i who was your Long Blacklist anon. here's what i have, or at least what i have scraped from the sides of my massive screenshots folder

to note: in the first image, in the section "TSS specific", the Remus mentioned is one of the characters in the show that the server is about,  whether he's secondary or main is up for debate. like. a WHOLE CHARACTER

some of these are understandable honestly, i don't mind a lot of this, but i had forgotten "y'all" was on here and. i'm sure that was probably said about 500 times in there because. how do you. IT'S Y'ALL

I gotta admit that I was not expecting this to be so wild. I had no idea an entire regional accent would be on here; nor could I have anticipated the fact that the whole of Ohio State University would be a banned topic, but there you go.

full transcription under the cut, for which you owe me, because this is long.

USER SPECIFIC

Recording <@!412026064970186753>’s voice without permission

Pet names directed at @‘beat drop’ A Jumbo Jellyfish

Referring to @rrationality in the feminine, “kiddo” directed at by anyone but Patton

“Tinker bell” or the phrase “I just want you to succeed” directed at @Groundhog badger

Deleting messages from @JEYKSHK without informing first

“Kitten” directed at @jelly 

“Know-it-all” directed at @The Rat God Summons Thee, asking to roleplay, people fighting in earshot, interacting while under the influence of any substances

Patronising and/or directing “cute” nicknames (smol, baby, dear, etc.) at @arson, overly aggressive conpliments (heart spamming, etc.)

“Princess”/“Champ”/“Sweetheart”/“Buddy” directed at @Silverquill (She/Her)

“Sweetie”/“honey”/“babe” and other pet names directed at @let airam see fuck without permission

“Hun”/“love” directed at @Ren 

“you’re acting like ___” and “very nice” directed at @probably activism, venting privately without warning/asking

“Dumb”/“stupid”/“idiot”, etc. directed at @blurryeyesinbewilderment 

“Selfish”/“worthless” directed at @Safira 

Calling attention to/making fun of the typos of @one of the best ppl here tbh

Referring to @It ya boy idk in the feminine, mocking

Referring to @I’m gonna shine like the sun as a hypochondriac

Referring to @Currently Committing Tax Fraud as argumentative

TSS SPECIFIC [translator’s note: this is an abbreviation for The S*nders Sides-- the fandom the server is about. I censor this because I do not care for him and do not wish to type his accursed name.]

Any discussion (including mentions), images, gifs and links involving Remus, and ships where he is included

The phrase “have you ever thought about killing your brother?” [translator’s note: this entire phrase was blacked out behind censor bars.]

Unsympathetic portrayals of the Sides (being villainous, abusive, (passive) aggressive, restrictive, etc.)

Ships involving the Sides and Sleep

Romantic Prinxiety

Intruality

Romantic logicality 

Snitties (tumblr post)

CenThomas (tumblr post)

TOPICS

Tangerines

Depersonalisation and depersonification

Divorce

Being controlled/your actions not being your own (including mind control)

Bullying (in a non-joking context)

Burning buildings and house fires

Belittling serious issues

Zombies

Existential issues (such as questioning reality)

Claustrophobic (small) spaces

Being patronised

Puppets

Bad parental relationships

Narcissistic people

Ohio State University

Annesia/mind-wiping

Bernie Sanders (US Politician)

Hell (discussion of)

Anesthesia

Fasting (for religious reasons or otherwise)

Unhappy endings

Power outages

Directing “stupid” at another person

Southern or Texan accents

Cringe culture

Spiders

Heights

The concept of pure nothingness

POC being stereotypes as promiscuous

Conflating age regression with age play [translator’s note: ‘age play’ was blacked out behind censor bars.]

Condiments (ketchup, mustard, etc.)

Malevolent of morbid supernatural entities

Food dicourse

Roanoke (the historical colony)

Self-depreciation

Heated discussions

Major character death

Hanahaki disease

Ants (the insect)

Eye lip eye (sequence of emojis)

Realistic-looking teeth on non-human things

Teeth in any place but a mouth

Human trafficking

Worms

OTHER MEDIA

The son “Sing me to sleep” by Alan Walker

Creepypasta (all forms)

The song “Hide and seek” by SeeU

Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared (webseries)

The song “Last christmas” by Wham!

Heathers (movie and musical)

The song “Empty” by boyinaband

The song “You should see me in a Crown” by Billie Eilish

The Momo challenge

Stephen King’s It (book and movies)

The song “Bury a friend” by Billie Eilish

Undertale and Delta Rune (video games)

The song “Wish you were gay” by Billie Eilish

The song “Ocean eyes” by Billie Eilish

Sora from Kingdom Hearts (video games)

Scooby Doo on Zombie Island (movie)

Onward (movie)

WORDS/NAMES/PHRASES

The word “senpai”

The name “Cryptid”

“I see the light”/“I’m going into the light”/“Light at the end of the tunnel”

“A beautiful mind”

“Babe” in a romantic context

“Baby” and “sweetiepie” as pet names

The name “Tristan”

The name “Ana”

The name “Jamie”

The name “William/Will”

“Make yourself useful”

“Y’all”

“Agere” (as a shortform of age regression)

SOUNDS AND VISUALS

Fife music (fife and drum corps)

Loud noises

Spiders and insects

Trypophobic images

“Distant shore” and “It’s all over isn’t it” from Steven Universe

Homestuck (all forms)

Crying while laughing

High saturation/bright images/eyes strain

[impatentpending]

When you say not a Remy fan . . . Do you mean indifference, uncomfiness, or hatred? Or something else? No judgment, I just want to know who Janus can murder and who he can’t 👀

well i mean i do have a history of killing remy off so 👀 👀 👀

and by not being a fan, I just mean that

A) I have a lot of issues with the way he’s typically portrayed in the fandom, so even though I find the sleep shorts funny, I am kinda leery of seeing him in fanworks because of how easy it is to make him a caricature.  I think this post by Airam sums it up pretty well

B) when I first got into the fandom, a bunch of people were harassing Thomas about making Remy a side so I went hm.  I am only going to make this man a Bastard.

[notveryglittery]

This is a question about the gang in your Minecraft au.

thank you!!!!!! i’m having the time of my life talking it out right now with various people!!! so i think i will copy paste what i’ve typed so far!!! under a read more i guess because it might get long and also spoilers?

local brewer logan... handles the potion making... always has emergency bottles on hand, like healing, slow falling, invis, etc. trades a lot with the local villagers for his supplies bc the idea of his friends going out to fight mobs to get supplies makes him nervous... uses a crossbow when/if he has to defend himself/the others

adventurer/fighter roman... mobs don’t stand a CHANCE babey.... has a heavy iron shield painted like his logo in canon... gets into tight spots frequently, often has to use ender pearls to get out quick... has like...... 4 dogs. fights with a sick ass diamond sword that has some sick ass enchantments on it!!

patton... u know he's the Farmer™... supplies mostly bread or stew. the others will commit cow moo-rder for him so he has less guilt about cooking the steak. always trying to bring home animals - dogs, cats, horses, donkeys, etc. likes to build and decorate, sometimes the Adventurers will come back a week later to an entirely different house kaksjskdj. is the villager's favorite bc he gives them cake. if he has to fight, he’s bow & arrow boy. 

virgil is kind of adventurer/miner. he doesn't mind going caving bc it's usually pretty safe if he's careful about it and there's something Super Satisfying about finishing the day with tons of materials. no one's allowed to go into abandoned mineshafts without him bc he's the only one that can consistently navigate them. wishes roman would stop wasting ender pearls. likes adventure/exploring bc there's nothing cooler than finding new biomes. fights with diamond daggers bc STYLE babey. virgil has one (1) cat and normally she stays at home, but if he's going exploring with janus, he brings her along, so she can keep the phantoms away if it comes to it. 

janus likes tinkering with redstone but they dont really use it for much so usually he just makes things that make annoying sounds lol. adventures best with virgil, tries to always have good vantage points. skips sleeping as long as he can most of the time for Reasons (they need phantom membrane for slow falling potions, he has nightmares, a mysterious phantom rider...) there’s an idea in the works re: deceit’s scales that has to do with a nether portal accident. newest to the group (?) so still kinda harsh and snarky. will use literally anything as a weapon lol. gotta think fast!!

virgil, roman, and janus are Team Explore bc virgil’s got supplies, janus has the brains, and roman is the muscle. patton packs pastries for their trips. logan gives them a list of potion ingredients to try and bring back. (thank you airam!!!)

yes, they are IN the minecraft world so the goal is still to defeat the dragon... this does mean they respawn... but it sure wouldn’t be fun to be the first one to test that, huh... 👀

[scripts4dreamers]

Edmund Pevensie X reader: "Hi I was wondering if I could get a relationship moodboard. Edmund pevensie x me? Please? I'm a girl with tan skin (I'm Mexican), I have long black hair, I'm not skinny nor overweight, I'm just in the middle. Im very loud and happy with my friends but if I meet I new person I get very quiet. I tend to hope too much and I try to see the best in people but I'm not too naive either." @airam-valencia-calderon 

 INTERACTION: "Just talk to her Ed," Peter suggested, his crown glinting in the summer sun, "she's not a witch, she won't hurt you." 

 Edmund shrugged, thinking hard as the knots in his stomach twisted and untwisted. He worried at his lower lip, trying to put into words the endless maze of thoughts and feelings that had been tormenting him for weeks now. 

 "She's not Narnian Peter, she doesn't belong here," he finally answered, "she belongs back home with her family. It-it wouldn't be right." 

 "But you do want her to stay, don't you?" Peter asked, "You want her to choose Narnia." 

He sighed, burying his face in his hands and imagining it again: Aslan approaching you, whispering in your ear that he knew how much you missed your family, telling you that he could send you back, if that was what you really wanted. Edmund had wanted to scream, he still wanted to scream, he wanted to beg you not to go, to stay here, with him forever. One look at your beautiful face though, one look at the hope and the longing there, had kept him silent.

"Of course I do," Edmund answered, "but it's her family Pete, what kind of selfish bastard would I have to be to ask her to choose me over her family?" 

Peter smiled sadly at his brother, standing and clapping him on the back as he made his way out of the beautiful throne room. "We're her family too, Ed. She knows that now." 

 ---------- 

 In your room, you were sitting quietly and staring out of the window at the beautiful ocean, deep in thought. Cair Paraval had been your home for nearly two years now and part of you, a rather large part if you were honest, couldn't fathom leaving. But another cried out for your mother, for your sister, for radios and trains and the smell of your father's cigarettes in the evening air. It would be so easy, you thought, to just say yes. To go home, to pack away your dresses and your swords and pretend that the last two years had never happened. Only, that was a lie, wasn't it? Because Edmund was here. Your head belonged back home with your family, but your heart was in Narnia, with the king. It wasn't really that hard of a choice, was it? 

 "Y/N," a familiar voice asked, pushing your door open gently, "can I come in?" 

"Edmund," you smiled, "of course." 

 Edmund nodded, sitting down and taking your hands in his. Slowly, he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, bringing them up and pressing them to his lips. 

His eyes, you noticed, were bloodshot, as though he hadn't been sleeping, and his hands trembled in yours. 

 "What's wrong my love?" You asked, stroking his cheek softly, "You look tired."  

"Don't go," he said quickly, as though he was forcing the words out, "don't leave, stay here in Narnia with me. I know you miss your family Y/N, but we're your family too and we need you, I need you and-" 

 "Ed, Ed calm down," you interrupted, chuckling gently, "I'm not leaving. I'm staying right here." 

 "What?" 

 "I'm not leaving," you laughed, "Narnia is my home, I belong here." 

 "Thank God," he breathed, leaning forward and capturing your lips with his, "I love you so much Y/N Y/L/N." 

 "I love you too, Edmund Pevensie."

[crossroadsdimension]

World Collision -- Chapter 20

Boy, this has come a long way. Two chapters remain to be posted...I’ll probably have them up before the end of June.

Here we go.

Final Assault

Myra was shaken awake some hours later by a gentle hand. She opened her eyes and looked up from where she was leaning against the cave-like metal wall.

Flare-Up was standing over her, with an expression on her face that looked nothing like the grim determination she’d had every time Myra had seen her before. She seemed sad, which startled Myra into wakefulness.

She didn’t think that Flare-Up could even look sad anymore.

“Get up,” Flare-Up said quietly. “We’re moving now.”

Myra yawned and pulled herself up to her feet, leaning against the wall.

Flare-Up’s expression hardened into the familiar, severe seriousness that she’d had when Myra had first seen her fully aware of her surroundings. “The others are waiting by the barrier leading into the Dark City. We’ve got one shot, and then the Time Barriers won’t let anyone cross. Not even World Jumpers.”

“They can do that?” Myra asked nervously.

“Unfortunately. When time and space as we know it are tearing themselves apart, they get to be even more powerful than even a World Jumper can handle. So watch your step when we go through this time.”

Myra gulped and nodded.

Flare-Up nodded in response, then stepped out of the room. Myra followed after her, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and feeling more alert now than she did when she’d wandered the streets of the Dark City alone.

The Time Barrier between the Cyber Zone and the Dark City Zone was connected – somehow – to the barrier that separated them from the Dungeon Zone.

Myra thought she saw the Time Barrier leading into the Dungeon Zone move towards them an inch, causing her to jump back a little. Flare-Up saw her move and nodded slightly before moving towards the other barrier.

“Do you all know what you’re doing?” Flare-Up asked. “It’s going to become extremely dangerous when we step through and start, especially if we put what we planned into motion in order to spread their sources thin.”

“We’ve got it.” Nightwing gave a thumbs-up.

“You talked to Batman?”

“I did. I’ll leave it up to him what he does, but I don’t think that he’s going to be able to stay out of things and watch the rest of us scramble around for much longer.” Nightwing looked up at the dark sky. “I know where the Watchtower is, at least. It won’t be hard for them to drop down and join us.”

“Batman’s coming down?” Myra asked in amazement.

“Maybe. We’ll have to see what he decides to do. In the meantime, we’ve got other things to worry about.” Nightwing looked over at the barrier, which was turning an almost deep purple. “The Time Barrier doesn’t look like it’s going to let us cross.”

“Leave that to me.” Flare-Up cracked her knuckles, then motioned for Seeker to join her at the Time Barrier. “We’re going to need to make a hole.”

“Got it.” Seeker grinned. He stood next to Flare-Up. “Ready when you are, little sis.”

Flare-Up’s expression soured, but she said nothing as she held her hands up against the slowly-turning-purple barrier in front of them. Seeker mimicked her movements.

Something bright blue-white pulsed from their hands; Myra stiffened in surprise at the sight of it, but her expression quickly turned to awe as the color of the barrier changed from purple to bright pink as it became more translucent.

“GO!” Flare-Up yelled.

Nightwing and the rest of their eclectic group did not need to be told twice. They bolted for the barrier and passed through it with relative ease before splitting in different directions on the streets that made of the dark, foreboding city in the center of the collided worlds.

“Myra!” Flare-Up motioned with her head.

Myra shook herself out of her awe at the light show and dove through the barrier. She felt almost no push against her at all, which surprised her enough that she went into a roll on the street before she managed to scramble to her feet.

She looked back just as Seeker and Flare-Up scrambled through themselves, only for the Time Barrier to go from transparent to pink to purple in a fast cascade of colors.

Flare-Up took in a breath, then forced her shoulders to relax. “All right. We’re essentially trapped here until the universe collapses or I set off the Continuum Shift, whichever comes first. I have some unfinished business to attend to before then, so let’s hope space holds on until I have a chance to confront the people I need to.”

“Seeker, we have to move.” Nightwing – the only person left behind from when the others scattered – stepped forward and clapped a hand on Seeker’s shoulder. “The others are already starting to move. You ready for this?”

Seeker hesitated, then nodded a little. “Yeah.” He looked between Flare-Up and Myra. “Good luck, both of you. You’re going to need it.”

Flare-Up nodded. “The same to you.”

Seeker remained standing for a moment, then turned and ran down the street, Nightwing falling into step next to him.

Cries started going up around the city, followed by roars and explosions. Myra could see buildings starting to be torn apart and falling to the ground.

“Come on. They’re using my name to get the attention of the people that have been MindTech’d, but it’s not going to last for long.” Flare-Up jumped up in the air, and the hoverboard on her back slipped under her feet. She held out a hand to Myra. “We have to find Airam.”

Space Break

“Wahoo! Come, Guardians! We have names from Very Naughty List to teach lesson!”

“Tch.” Pitch watched as North bounded out of the chamber, squashing elves under his feet to destroy the MindTech on them as Tooth Fairy, Sandman, the Easter Bunny, and Jack Frost followed after him. “I forgot how annoyingly jolly that man is.”

“It’s a good thing.” Kia was walking around the back portion of the ice-covered chamber. “With him back, the wonder and hope at reversing what the Dark Arms have done will hit everyone in the World Collision, regardless of the Zone they happen to be in. We’ve just helped Flare-Up and her allies much more than we could have by being there in person.”

“Hmph.” Pitch tilted his head slightly, then glided closer to where Kia was inspecting the wall. “And what exactly are you looking for?”

“Some clue as to how the Dark Arms began their conquest.” Kia stopped moving and put a hand on the ice wall, frowning. “They may have placed the center of their empire in the Dark City because it is where the worlds merged best, but that doesn’t mean that was where they began the World Collision. It should be the remnants of a dimension somewhere near here….”

Kia leaned in closer to the ice, eyes narrowing.

Pitch rolled his eyes. “Do you really expect to see something through that? Ice doesn’t make for the best—“

Kia pulled back from the ice and pulled her arms back. Cream-colored sparks of some kind of energy coated her clenched fists up to her elbows, and she threw them forward at once.

The resounding crash that followed caused the ice to crack before it fell to pieces, creating a large gap in the ice that led to another area entirely.

“The origins for their World Collision plot starts here.” Kia slipped into the gap and carefully moved sideways through the opening. Pitch followed after her, his thin form not really needing any careful maneuvering on his part.

“What? By merging my world together with theirs?” Pitch asked in a disapproving tone.

“No. By attempting to invade another dimension, but the power of their portal was too strong, and it merged the two worlds together and caused them to collapse in on each other because of the inter-dimensional strain.” Kia shook her head. “They were far too greedy for their own good.”

They came out on the other side of the ice gap, Kia stepping aside to let Pitch step through onto cold, partially melted cobblestone.

Pitch stared. “What in the name of the moon is…?”

“The remains of two dimensions, transformed into an arena they no longer use,” Kia replied. “They set another world so far off-course in its timeline with their arrival that this is all that’s left.” She motioned to the large, circular stone arena, with ice covering the circular center, and the remains of some sort of wood-and-metal scaffolding up on one side.

A straw hat that looked like it was about to fall to pieces sat on the ice.

“It won’t come back when Flare-Up fixes the dimensions, but there might be people out there who still remember this place.” Kia sighed. “Losing one dimension is bad enough, but losing even these…” She shook her head.

Pitch wasn’t one for emotional support. As it was, his gaze went over the melted stone and the remains of something that covered the stones in some places. “Eh. If there is anyone out there, at least they’re not stuck in this mess.” He turned and went back to the hole in the ice. “Come on. Those bozos are going to need someone to watch their backs.”

Kia nodded numbly, then followed after him. There was a look in her eyes that suggested she was elsewhere.

Speed, Shifter…wherever you are, I hope you’re all right.

Space Rip

“I’d almost forgotten how quiet the streets were.” Myra looked around at the abandoned buildings they passed, recognizing some as old hiding spots back when she had been alone. “It…it doesn’t feel right now.”

“Because you’ve been with us for long enough that you’ve forgotten a little what it’s like to be alone,” Flare-Up replied. She leaned forward on the hoverboard, and they started to move even more quickly through the streets towards the large, foreboding tower that stood over everything in the Dark City. She hissed under her breath. “Come on, come on, you purple clone, where are you?”

A loud screech came from one of the nearby skyscrapers, and a blast of purple flames came shooting out from one of the windows.

“Myra!”

“Flash Fire!” Myra raised a hand, keeping the other one on Flare-Up’s shoulder in order to keep her balance. The purple fire was pulled in her direction and absorbed by her form instantly, filling Myra with more energy than she felt she knew what to do with.

“How dare you bring that one with you!” Airam shot down as the fire dissipated. The crazed look in her eyes caused Myra to flinch back a little.

“I am just leveling the playing field.” Flare-Up started to bring up her right hand, then winced and put that hand over her chest instead. Something white flashed. “Not yet! Not now!”

Myra’s eyes widened sharply. She’d seen that flash once before – when Flare-Up had been explaining her plan. Did that mean…?

Airam hovered a few feet in front of them, looking startled. “No…how do you have that power?! The masters said it was never going to happen – they made sure of it!”

Flare-Up growled as the white flash faded. “They only want you to think that.” She held out both hands, palms facing the dark gray sky. “Airam. I know what you are, and who you are. I know what you have become, and what you intend to do with the powers that were granted to you in the beginning.”

Airam’s brow furrowed in confusion, the expression mimicked by Myra.

“Flare-Up, what are you—“

“Scribe told me.” Flare-Up cut Myra off. “And now I am simply going to follow through.” She took in a breath, then started murmuring something that didn’t sound anything like English.

The white glow started up again, but it quickly changed to a dark, dark blue as tendrils of light rose from the palms of Flare-Up’s hands and reached out towards Airam.

Airam started backing up slowly, then turned and prepared to bolt, only for the tendrils to latch onto her arms suddenly and pull her back, circling up her arms. Myra lost sight of the tips under Airam’s hair.

Airam came to an abrupt halt, arched her back, and screamed to the heavens as something in the tendrils of light pulsed back towards Flare-Up.

Flare-Up cut the tendrils off, letting them dissipate and take the whatever-was-pulsing thing in them along with it.

Then she raised her Buster and fired a blast of orange energy that was as big as her head, sending Airam flying into another building.

Flare-Up lowered her Buster and almost fell forward, but managed to regain her balance. “Right. That’s taken care of.”

“Wh-what did you do?!” Myra yelped. “Where did those light-things come from?!”

“Instinct,” Flare-Up murmured in reply. She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. It probably won’t happen again.”

“Probably?! Flare-Up, what did you do?!”

Flare-Up half-turned and glared back at Myra with such a fierce gaze that it caused Myra to flinch back. “I took her ability to World Jump, okay?!”

Myra’s eyes widened sharply. “Wha—“

“Impossible!” Ariam stumbled out from the crater she’d made in the side of a building. “You can’t do that – that’s an ability that can’t be taken from—“

“Well, I just did, and I don’t know how I know,” Flare-Up replied shortly. She pointed the Buster at Airam again. “We need to get inside the tower. Now.”

Airam held up her hands, but the movement was slow. There was something in her eyes that seemed to say she was more tired. “You know there’s only one way in for people like you. If you want to get in, grab a cart and take the Trials.”

Myra stiffened, her grip tightening on Flare-Up’s armor. “No…” She gulped loudly.

Airam cackled. “Oh, it seems your friend already knows what coming! Did you try them and get caught?”

“I heard rumors, nothing else!” Myra yelped. “I never went near that place, and for good reason!”

“Well, you’re going there now! You want to see my masters and put an end to them, you’re going to have to march yourself right up there and into their hands.” Airam looked at her hands, as though there were fingernails on the tips of her white-gloved fingers. “Of course, since your friends have all managed to draw out their expendable minions, that just leaves the ones they’ve always had with them.” She looked over slyly. “Are you sure you want to face up against them? Hmm?”

Myra made a nervous noise and shook her head quickly as Flare-Up’s shoulders stiffened at Airam’s words.

Airam cackled again. “I’d like to see you try, but seeing as I’ve failed, the masters probably won’t let me see. The least I could do is get you your ride.” She grinned a little too widely for a normal human face. “So?”

Flare-Up said nothing. Myra looked between the two of them, her nervous energy starting to act up and cause purple sparks to fly from her shoulders.

“Myra, steel yourself,” Flare-Up said crisply. “Do it.”

Airam threw back her head and howled with laughter. “With pleasure!” She made a great, waving arc with one hand, sending sparks of purple flames into the sky, lighting up the surrounding area with strange runes that exploded into nothingness. “Expect your ride in a matter of minutes. I am going to make myself scarce. Loyal to the masters I may be, but I do not intend to die before you do.”

With that, Airam moved back into the shadows between buildings and disappeared from sight.

Myra gulped loudly again as Flare-Up’s hoverboard disappeared from under their feet, dropping her and Flare-Up to the ground. “Wh-what have you done?”

“What needed to be done.” Flare-Up rolled her shoulders as Myra’s hands slipped off them. “According to what you know, the Trials are simply a series of challenges, correct?”

Myra nodded quickly. “Th-that’s what I heard, yeah…but are you sure we’d be able to handle it without getting caught?”

“I’m certain.” Flare-Up looked at Myra. “The Continuum Shift won’t let us fail. Not now.”

Myra blinked, then looked down at Flare-Up’s chest and sucked in a breath when she saw the small, pulsing white light that seemed to come from somewhere under the other World Jumper’s armor. She looked back up at Flare-Up’s face. “That’s what you used to take away Airam’s power, isn’t it?”

Flare-Up’s right hand reached up and hovered over the white light. “That seems…more than likely. It’s bought us more time before it will force me to unleash it, but how much…” She shook her head. “It will happen in the tower, at least.”

Something started rattling on the street corner ahead of them, and Myra and Flare-Up looked over.

A cart of some kind – purple and black, with no visible driver – came around the corner and stopped at the end of the street. It looked like a covered wagon of some kind, but the canopy over the back was transparent.

“That’s it.” Flare-Up strode towards the cart. “Come on, Myra. It’s time we finished this. For good.”

Myra stared at Flare-Up’s back, wondering how in the world she could be willing to go back to her tormentors, then shook her head and quickly ran after her and scrambled up into the back of the cart in time with Flare-Up.

Flare-Up had said that they were going to be partners. It wouldn’t be right for Myra to just up and abandon her at the last moment.

Time Break

Myra fidgeted in the back of the cart as they came close to the base of the tower. Something about Flare-Up’s calm felt…too calm. “Flare-Up?”

Flare-Up turned her head away from the empty streets and inclined her head slightly. “Yes?”

“Have you…” Myra paused. “Have you participated in tournaments before?”

Flare-Up blinked at the question, then looked up at the transparent canopy above them. "I have. Most of them involved teams of Pokémon being pitted against each other, and I have competed in a Smash Worlds Tournament, as well." She looked back with a tired, serious expression. "But I haven't been involved in anything like what has been described to me here. Why do you ask, Myra?"

Myra blinked a couple times, then looked away – back the way they had come. “Well…I was kinda wondering if you had any experience—“

“According to what I’ve heard you and the others say about this—“ Flare-Up motioned to the tower they were swiftly approaching—“it’s nothing like any normal tournament. It’s a death trap. People go in, and they don’t come out.”

Flare-Up’s voice had taken a dark tone that caused Myra’s eyes to widen before she flinched at the last sentence. After a moment, she gave a hesitant nod. “I…guess you could put it that way, yeah. The Trials aren’t something that I’ve ever thought could be beaten.” She looked at Flare-Up. “But do you think there’s a chance?”

Flare-Up nodded sternly. “We’ve weakened their numbers and strengthened our own. I think we’ll be able to handle whatever lies beyond those doors.” She glared up at the tall, black tower that was ahead of them, and the doors that were swiftly becoming more visible. They looked like they were either made of ancient stone or metal, with carvings of knights fighting against dragons with nothing but swords.

Myra hesitated. "Flare-Up, I don't know if you should have chosen me to go with you for this."

Flare-Up blinked. “What makes you think that?”

Myra looked at Flare-Up in surprise at the question. "W-well, I'm not as strong as Captain America or as fast as-"

"Do you really think that's the only thing that matters?" Flare-Up frowned disapprovingly, causing Myra to flinch again. "What matters is that you and I can work together. I haven't been able to fight side-by-side like this with most of the others we've managed to rescue, and even then, you can read my movements better than they can in a fight."

Myra looked at Flare-Up in surprise at that. "R-really?"

Flare-Up nodded, a somewhat demonic smile working its way across her face. The expression made Myra shudder a bit. "The Dark Arms won't know what hit them."

With that said, the doors in front of them slowly started to open, and Flare-Up returned her attention to the tall tower in front of them as her face shifted into a mask of grim determination.

[ventisquear]

A Handful of Fine Flower

I posted this on FFN, but never here. It’s about Air’s attempt at birthday surprise for Zev, but it fits Valentine, too, so I decided to post it here anyway, slightly edited.

The weight on the bed shifted, and there was a soft creak of wood followed by the barely audible tap of bare feet on the stone floor. There was a moment of tense silence, during which Zevran continued to breathe calmly and evenly as if he was still fast asleep. He must have been convincing because soon there was a rustle of clothes – Airam was pulling on his shirt and trousers, he guessed – followed by wary steps across the room. They paused by the door. Knowing Airam would get suspicious if he didn’t react at all, Zevran sighed and rolled over, pulling the blanket around him. He more sensed than heard the door opening and closing again.

It was charming how Airam still thought he could sneak past him. After a few minutes, he got up as well and pulled on his shirt. No need to wear pants; if things went as he planned, they would only get in the way. Boots, on the other hand, were a must; nothing looked hotter than black leather on tanned skin. He peeked out of the room. As far as he could see in the ambient light of the sconces, the corridor was empty, and the doors of the other Wardens’ bedrooms were all closed.

He headed right to the library. Where else could his crazy mage go at this time of night? Maybe he’d woke up and suddenly realized he knew the solution to some insanely abstract – and completely useless, in Zevran’s opinion – magical theory.

As expected, the door to the library was ajar. There was no light coming from it, but that didn’t mean much; Airam was probably sitting in one of the aisles, the light of his wisp blocked by the rows of shelves. He tiptoed to the door and slipped in, ready to jump out of the shadows at the sight of Airam poring over his books; he grinned as he imagined the alarm on Airam’s face quickly being replaced by delight at seeing his sexy lover.

“Ssssssrrrroow!”

Zevran dashed behind the nearest bookcase. Thank the Maker he’d put on his boots – he always carried an extra dagger in them. He reached for it now and sneaked back to kill whatever beast or demon had made that horrible noise.

There! Two bright yellow eyes glared at him from the armchair Airam usually snuggled in during the winter nights when he was reading ‘for pleasure’, a pile of books and a mug of hot chocolate sitting next to him. The current occupant was far less cuddly. Zevran cursed as he recognized the huge tabby cat that belonged to one of the new Wardens.

“Do that again, and I’ll feed you to Rask,” he muttered, annoyed.

“Mrooow!” it snapped back in the same tone.

Maybe he should assassinate it himself. It was lucky he had more pressing matters on his mind – specifically, the disappointing lack of purple-haired mages in the library. Think, Zevran. If not here, where else could he be? Where else would a Warden go in the middle of the night?

His lips curled into an amused smirk as he realised the answer. He returned his dagger to its place and hurried to the larder.

Zevran frowned at the lone strawberry that lay next to the door. This night was getting more and more mysterious. Someone was here, that much was obvious – someone who hadn’t bothered to cover their tracks, close the sacks and boxes they had opened, or pick up the strawberries they had dropped. And there was only one person in the whole fortress who could’ve done that without having to worry about facing the wrath of Serah Goraidh, their short but fierce cook. But why in the Void would Airam care about eggs or ginger, while ignoring the tin with his favourite cinnamon cookies?

Zevran picked up the strawberry and thoughtfully popped it in his mouth. Time to find out what was going on.

Airam was bent over an old, tattered notebook, surrounded by pots and pans and mixing bowls of all shapes and kinds. Fully absorbed by the notebook, he hadn’t even noticed he wasn’t alone anymore. “How dare he say it’s like potion making,” he muttered in a frustrated voice.

Zevran chuckled. “I fully agree, amore. Whoever he is.”

With a start, Airam looked up at him and closed the notebook. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said accusingly, but Zevran didn’t miss the way his gaze heated up as he took in his figure leaning against the doorframe in a way that accentuated the curve of his hip, his crossed arms ‘accidentally’ pulling his shirt up a little higher so it just barely covered his naughty bits. He was gratified to see Airam’s mouth open a little at the sight.

“Oh? Am I not supposed to be at your side?” he asked, peeling himself from the doorframe and sauntering over to him.

“Not tonight,” Airam said, but he put the notebook on the desk and wrapped his arms around Zevran’s waist. “You should be sleeping. Next time I’ll poke you to be sure you’re not pretending.”

“Mmmm… I’d like that.” Zevran cupped Airam’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss, but their lips had barely touched when Airam pushed him away.

“With a fire stick.”

“Ah, harsh words and a rejection! You are cruel, amore.”

“You are a distraction,” Airam retorted. “And you may stop with those puppy dog eyes and pouting. It won’t work on me, not tonight. I need to do other things.”

“What other things?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow. Now, shoo.” There was the most intriguing little smile on Airam’s lips.  

“And what if I have business here, too, hm? Maybe I assumed you were in the library and decided to use this chance to do something.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Zevran glanced at the bowls neatly stacked on the table – one with eggs, the other with butter, flour, strawberries… “A strawberry cake?” he said, as it all clicked together.

Airam laughed. “You’re incorrigible. When will you learn that sticking that pretty nose of yours into everything isn’t good for you? Especially around holidays and birthdays.”

“… oh.” When Airam had come to pick him up in Antiva, he’d visited all the places from Zevran’s past – including the whorehouse. Most of the whores from his childhood were either dead or long gone, but the Matron was still there, and when she realized who they were, she was very willing to talk. Based on her memories, Airam calculated the probable date of Zevran’s birthday – July 31st. Tomorrow. “And you decided to bake a strawberry cake for me?” he asked incredulously. “By yourself?”

“A tart,” Airam corrected. “Yes. I’ve been wanting to try it for a long time – Goraidh makes it sound like a lot of simple fun. You just need to follow the instructions on the recipe, he said, like when you’re doing potions. So I thought this might be a good opportunity to try it, but….” He picked up the notebook and flipped through the pages. “Here. See for yourself. Is this how the Crows write their poison recipes?”

“Strawberry Tarte” was inscribed at the top of the page in ornamental handwriting. The recipe itself was far less pretty, scribbled down by someone too busy to care about loops and swirls.

Take two or three handfuls of fine flower and a little saffron and mingle together & cut a disshe of swete butter and crumble with flower & put in yolkes of two or three egges & and a curtesy of faire water & make it thin and tender as ye maie.

Take strawberries and washe them and cut them & spread them on your Tarte & season them with cynamon, suger and Ginger & put a little red wine or rosewater into them & bake it.

Zevran arched his brow. “Well, it is a recipe. The Crows would be slightly more precise. They would at least specify which type of fine flower they meant – a rose? An orchid?”

Airam waved his hand. “Eh, who cares about typos! It was written by Goraidh’s grandma, I think it’s amazing a simple peasant could write at all. But where are the measures? How much is a curtesy of water? Or how many strawberries should I use?” He shook his head in frustration. “If the healers made their potions and poultices like this, no one would survive them.”

“I agree.” Zevran’s couldn’t help grinning at Airam’s righteous indignation. “It is good then, that I joined you, no? We will make two cakes, and take detailed notes as we go and make a proper recipe. What say you, hm?”

“It was meant to be a surprise,” Airam said with a sigh. “But since that obviously failed – yes, you can join me.”

“I am honoured to stand by your side in this challenge,” Zevran said with a deep bow. “Allow me to prepare myself first, however.” He pulled off his shirt, then took a pair of aprons that were near the oven and put one on. “I heard the stains from strawberries are terribly difficult to wash out,” he explained nonchalantly, as he handed the other one to Airam.

“How’s your dough?” Zevran peeked over Airam’s shoulder to see how he was doing. “Did it improve when you added water?”

“It’s not a heap of crumbles anymore. Now it’s a semiliquid sticky goo.” Airam lifted his hands, covered in a thick mass and slowly dripping back into the bowl. “I guess one cup of water was too much. Yours?”

“I added two more handfuls of flour, and it’s getting better. I think. Do you think I should another extra egg?” Zevran lifted his ball of dough closer to Airam. His lover dutifully glanced at it and shrugged.

“How many extra eggs did you put in it? It looks much bigger than mine. And much more yellow.”

“Let me see…” Zevran checked the paper with his notes. “By now, I’ve used five handfuls of flour, five eggs, a tablespoon of saffron, two dishes of butter and about half cup of water.”

Airam frowned. “You basically doubled everything in the recipe. And you used half the water I did. Which means…”

“Which means we will have not two but at least six strawberry cakes.”

They burst into laughter.

Airam grabbed a dishcloth and wiped his hands on it. “Ewww. I hate to admit it, but baking apparently isn’t one of my strong points. I suggest using yours and starting on the filling.”

“You’re the chef,” Zevran said with a wink. He divided the ball in two and handed one to Airam. “Make it thin and tender as you may.”

“Right.” Airam took the bowl with his failed attempt at dough and looked around. The whole table was full of bowls and glasses, spoons and spatulas, packs with flour and sugar and other ingredients and at least seven dishcloths in various degrees of dirtiness. “Wow. I never knew baking was this messy,” he said with a chuckle, as he finally put the bowl with the dough on one of the chairs. “Now, the rolling pins… I think I saw them over there.” He opened one of the cupboards and scanned the surprisingly few dishes that still remained in there. “Yes, here they are.”

Zevran pushed all the currently unnecessary things to one side of the table to give them a little space. This at least should be easy – what could go wrong rolling a ball of dough into a thin circle?

“I think something’s wrong with this dough,” Airam said after a moment. “Look.” He lifted his rolling pin, the dough sticking to it like a tattered flag of defeat.

He wanted to reply that his was fine, but when he tried to lift the rolling pin, half of the dough followed, while the other half remained glued to the table. “It’s the wood,” he said sagely, as he scraped it with his knife. “It’s too sticky, yes? Let’s put some flour on it, maybe it will help.”

Three handfuls later, and the dough was finally rolled into two thin circles that didn’t stick at all. Victory! But they should’ve used more saffron, because the dough wasn’t such a pretty yellow anymore. Oh well. That was an unimportant detail, yes?

After a few tries, they transferred the circles of dough into the pans. They had to press it in with their hands, and after some discussion, they decided to cut off the extra bit that was sticking out. Ha! Baking wasn’t so difficult at all they agreed, as they cut the strawberries. The recipe didn’t mention it, but they decided to season them first, before putting them into the pans. Since they couldn’t agree on seasonings – except for sugar - each was preparing his own version. They’d vote on which tart tasted better.

There was no doubt in Zevran’s mind which one would win: surely his combination of ginger and red wine would be far more delicious than Airam’s sweet, childishly innocent combination of rosewater and cinnamon.

Finally all was ready, and they poured their mixtures into the prepared pans. Airam opened the oven – and cursed.

“We forgot to light the fire!”

He looked so miserable, Zevran pulled him into a hug and kissed him. Rosewater and cinnamon… not bad, he had to admit, as he kissed him again. Not bad at all.

“Don’t worry, amore,” he said when they broke the kiss. “That is something we can easily fix, no? Give me just a moment and I will light a fire that would make an Archdemon proud.”

“It will take forever till the oven is hot enough,” Airam said, unconvinced.

“Ah, but we could use the time for… other activities.”

“Yes, we should.” Airam sighed. “All right, then. I’ll do the dishes. You clean the floor.”

Brasca.

“Done,” Zevran declared as he wrung out the rag and threw it aside in disgust. The next time Airam decided to get up in the middle of the night, he decided, as he stretched his back, he’d roll over and let him go. Let his crazy mage have these night adventures without him, yes?

“Me too,” Airam replied weakly. “Maker’s breath. You know, there were ten of us in the camp – twelve, if you count Bodahn and Sandal – and we didn’t have the luxury of barrels with water-heating glyphs, but I don’t remember ever being so tired after washing up.”

“I don’t remember ever having this many dishes,” Zevran pointed out. “I must say, amore, I don’t see how this is simple or fun.”

“But it will be delicious,” Airam said with a little smile. “The cakes should be ready soon. I hope. The book only says to bake them until they smell good, and they smelled good to me even before we put them in.”

Zevran wasn’t sure he still cared about the cakes, to be honest, but he’d rather be racked than to admit it to Airam. “I am sure-”

“Eeeeeeeeeeeeek!”

They both startled at the high-pitched shriek and turned their heads to the door.

A chubby woman was standing there, eyes and mouth wide open, staring right at Zevran’s posterior.

“I-I-I – I’m sorry, ser!” she yelled, as she turned on her heel and ran out of the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Zevran asked.

“Why, it’s Emily, Goraidh’s assistant; don’t you recognize her?” Airam handed him his shirt. “Better put it on. But, why she would be here in the middle of the night, I have no idea.”

“She was here because it’s four-thirty,” a rather furious voice said.

Fereldans. Never bothered with knocking. Just because the door was wide open, it didn’t mean they could simply enter the room, no? Zevran crossed his arms and glared at the short redhead in the doorframe. Goraidh glared right back.

“She always bakes fresh bread and buns for your breakfast at this time,” the chef continued. “But why you are parading around half-naked in here, I don’t understand. Why – Maker’s breath.” His eyes widened as he noticed something on the wall. “Is that blood? What were you doing in here?”

Blood? What was the fool blabbering about? Zevran followed his gaze. There, on the wall near the oven, was a wide, bright red smear. How in the Void had it gotten there?!

“No, it’s just strawberries,” Airam said, shuffling his feet.

“Strawberries?”

“Yes, we – it’s Zevran’s birthday, so I wanted to make him a cake – it’s all my fault,” Airam explained. “But now that you’re here, I think it’s best to leave the rest to you. All right?” He took Zevran’s hand and led him to the door. “And, um, I’d appreciate if you kept this between us…. Oh. I guess not, then.”

Emily was back, followed by what looked like every maid in the fortress, blushing and giggling. Zevran chuckled and sent them an air kiss, which caused more giggling – and a sharp nudge in the ribs from Airam.

They missed breakfast. They got up just in time for the midmorning snack, but decided to miss that too. Airam thought it was better to let the Wardens gossip and laugh first before they walked down. Zevran didn’t mind gossip – but he didn’t mind having Airam all for himself, either. Mornings off were rather rare for his Warden Commander and the Arl, and Zevran was determined to use every moment of it. What better birthday present could he wish for?

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. With a frustrated sigh, he got up, put on a robe, and opened the door. A blushing maid was standing there, holding a huge tray with a covered dish.

“Your brunch, ser,” she squealed when she saw him, and pushed the tray into his arms. “Happy Birthday, ser!” And without waiting for thanks, she bolted down the corridor.

Zevran laid the tray on the desk and removed the lid. There was a strawberry tart with whipped cream, and a note.

“Happy Birthday,” it read.

P.S. Next time you bake, grease and flour the pan. It will allow you to actually serve the tarte when it’s done.

P.S.2 Saffron. Spice. Pinches. You get it?

P.S.3 Never again enter my kitchen without my supervision.

Yours faithfully,

Goraidh Mair

Chef of the Grey

[magnusedom]

uh ok. i can't do this anymore (working a 9 to 5)

[run-on-lightning]

me: my sib has a kid now. that makes me a...........

me: what’s genderneutral for aunt/uncle?

friend: i think it’s “nuncle”

me: that makes me think of a nun who is an uncle

friend: lol

me: imma research words

me: (finds this page: “https://nonbinary.miraheze.org/wiki/Glossary_of_German_gender_and_sex_terminology#T” )

me: oh hey, german language has Tankel

friend: that sounds badass

friend: like a tank

me: a twinkly tank

me: yep, i like this better. my niblet should call me that

[candyredmuses]

“I’m tryin’ ta’ plan on sleepin’ on a MAJORITY of tha’ male student body in this place and ratin’ their performances so I can have a whole statistics list on all tha’ guys here and how they are with their dick. So far I got at least four pages full in my journal.”

[run-on-lightning]

I’ve been thinking about magical girls a lot lately, and it’s always bothered me that losing their magic powers when they fall in love/ reach a certain age/ have sex/ etc. is such a prevalent trope. It always gives me a wtf feeling because Love should make you stronger. Growing up and becoming more mature should make you stronger. Embracing your sexuality should make you stronger. NOT make the magic go away.

[run-on-lightning]

probably an unpopular opinion but I love Steven Universe with all my heart

[run-on-lightning]

Sometimes I wonder if the topless guys across the street think I’m checking them out when I stare at the direction of their store. 🤔 That would be super weird...