#i was going through my old docs

[salparadiselost]

Some times I read my old writing and I’m like “wow this is crap” sometimes I read my old writing and I’m literally blown away like holy shit how did it do this

[dreamaruu]

Hello RvBGTBQ+ community

[periwinkle-the-11th]

I think my favorite kotlc fic that i've ever written is the one where young Sophie catches Mr. Forkle sneaking into her house (a thing he canonically did to mess with her mind) and she just. pepper sprays him. straight in the eyes. dead on.

[baconpncakes]

It's about "We'll do it at my place." It's about "I'd rather die here. Not in an ambulance. Not at a hospital." It's about Wilson and House agreeing win or lose. Win or lose right here. On House's couch. Not Wilson's place. Not House's bed. But House's couch. The couch he lived on after his divorce. The couch he slept on when House sabotaged his attempt to find a new apartment. The couch he peed on after House's prank backfired. The couch that he and House watched movies and monster truck rallies and trash reality tv on. He ate countless meals on that couch. He celebrated holidays on that couch. It's his best friend's couch. He lived there. And he would die there.

[thisantithesis]

little library au — 2.8k words | jegulus

Regulus sighed as he placed another book on the shelf, his attention far away from whatever section he was restocking. Snow was drifting down slowly outside, the late-afternoon dark gray sky making the library seem much gloomier than usual.

The golden lights cast an orange-tinted hue across the shelves and tables while the fireplace crackled gently in its hearth against the wall of the lounge area. The combination of both gave the large and ornate room a warm and comfortable feeling, but didn’t do much in terms of providing sufficient light. Each table had its own lamp, many of which were currently being used by students as they crammed to study for their finals.

Regulus would usually be one of the people sitting at a table in quiet panic, spending so much time there that he would surely be the last one to leave, but instead here he was, slowly making his way through the cart of books that needed to be returned to their rightful place.

He didn’t dislike his job. He really didn’t. If anything, it was the best job he could have right then as a university student, what with its flexible hours and low demands. He popped in four days a week, from noon until six p.m., then left and went back to his apartment. It was an easy schedule, one that allowed him to take his classes in the morning and do whatever he wanted in the evening, which is more than a lot of working students had. It’s just that, as he watched the first snowfall of the year through the large windows of the library, he found that he would much rather be outside, letting the flakes land in his hair and touch his skin with little pinpricks of cold.

Someone had once told him that the snow in his pitch black curls made it look like he had his own little galaxy swirling in his hair. He still thought about it constantly.

So, every year when fall slowly turned to winter, when the weather started getting colder and the world started losing its colorful warmth, Regulus waited with bated breath for that first snowfall. He always made sure to be outside when it happened so he could let a little galaxy form atop his head and reminisce on what he thought were better days.

Placing the last book on its proper shelf, Regulus quickly put the cart away and steadily walked toward the front desk of the library.

“Ms. Pince,” he said as he put his hands flat on the desk in front of him.

“Yes, Mr. Black?” she replied almost tonelessly, her back to him and her head bent over whatever she was working on.

He steeled himself, not necessarily expecting being denied at his request but still preparing for it. Ms. Pince wasn’t known to be lenient. “Would I be able to leave a bit earlier today? I need to study for my finals and I’ve already finished unloading the return cart.”

She slowly turned her head towards where he had placed the cart, lifting an eyebrow as she checked the watch on her wrist. “All right. The library closes in an hour, so I don’t see the harm. Will you be here tomorrow?”

The library closed at seven p.m. on the weekends, and given that it was a Saturday, Regulus was right to think that it would work in his favor. He tried to suppress his little smile of triumph. “Yes, same time as today. My class ends at noon so I should get here at around quarter past.”

The librarian nodded and turned back to her project. “Have a good night, Mr. Black.”

“You as well, Ms. Pince. And thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She simply hummed in acknowledgement and Regulus all but sprinted towards the closet deemed as the “break room”. It consisted of wall to wall shelves filled with ancient and dusty tomes, with a newer addition of a small table, a chair, and some pegs haphazardly tacked onto the back of the door for coats and bags. The room was big enough to walk around in, even with the table, but it was so dusty back there that spending more than fifteen minutes in the room made Regulus’ throat run dry.

He shoved the door open, grabbed his things, then quickly walked towards the library’s side doors. No one really knew about them, given that they were hidden by some of the shelves, so you either found them by looking or accidentally stumbling upon them—which is exactly how Regulus had found them.

He put his coat on as he walked and looped his scarf around his throat tightly, then readjusted the strap of his bag as he opened the doors and stepped onto the freshly fallen snow.

It had been snowing incessantly for the past three hours, and Regulus had hoped it would be one of those first snowfalls that kept going for hours and hours, or at least until there was a decent amount sticking to the ground, and he was glad to see that this year was exactly like that.

Regulus smiled softly and tipped his head back, enjoying the quiet sound of snow falling on his face and the stillness the world around him seemed to adopt whenever winter arrived.

The side doors of the library opened up to a hidden area beside the building, a place Regulus liked to call the Statue Garden. The patch of grass was filled with statues of Greek gods and goddesses, all covered in green branches and moss as a result of the passing of time. Now though, now they were covered in a faint dusting of white, somehow making them look that much more regal.

Regulus closed his eyes against the falling flakes, a serene feeling spreading throughout his chest and slowly unknotting the anxiety that always resided there.

A crunch of footsteps broke through the quiet making Regulus whip his head in the direction of the sound. The thick trees blocked him from seeing whoever was approaching, but soon enough they came into the clearing, causing Regulus to scowl when he saw who it was.

The person continued walking, completely unaware of Regulus standing mere feet away, making his blood boil. Why couldn’t he have one moment of peace?

“What are you doing here?” Regulus demanded, hoping his expression conveyed how unhappy he was with what was happening at the moment.

James Potter stopped in his tracks and looked up, eyes and mouth wide with surprise. He looked like he'd seen a ghost—which, to be fair, he basically had. Regulus hadn’t seen James, his brother, or any of their friends in almost a year and a half now, not since his birthday party last year.

Regulus scowled even harder at the memory, the bitterness in his chest almost overpowering. He raised a brow when James kept gawping at him, already tired of the conversation. The idiot hadn’t even spoken a word and Regulus was done. That had to be a record.

“Potter,” he repeated, this time more sternly to snap the other boy out of his stupor.

“Oh,” James breathed gently, “it’s you.”

Regulus pretended the soft reverence in James’ voice didn’t still affect him after all this time and scrunched his forehead in a look of confusion. “Yes?”

The other boy was quiet for some seconds before speaking up. “Your hair…” he whispered, and that was enough to make Regulus shut down whatever James was going to say next.

“I asked you what you’re doing here.”

That seemed to make James remember himself, closing his mouth with a loud clack of teeth on teeth and an embarrassed scratch to the back of his neck, something he always used to do back—well. Back then. James paused for a second before answering, “Walking?”

Regulus tipped his eyes skyward, hoping for some sort of divine intervention that would save him from having to deal with this conversation. “Yes, thank you, genius. I meant what you’re doing here. At the library. You know I work here.”

The other frowned a little at that, the dimple in his cheek forming just as Regulus remembered. “Well, technically I don’t.”

It was Regulus’ turn to be confused. “What?”

James’ embarrassment seemed to fade in an instant, a look of trepidation replacing it instead. “It’s been a year and a half since I—since we saw you, Regulus. For all we know you could’ve fucked off to a completely different school. I didn’t know you’d be here. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I did,” he said the last part under his breath, but Regulus heard it all the same.

An unexpected flair of hurt ricocheted inside his chest, which only made his resolve harden. “All right, well. How did you find this place then?”

James shrugged, “Like you find any place. By looking.” And almost like he could read exactly what Regulus was thinking, a wry smile formed on his face before saying “Don’t worry, I won’t come back here. Clearly this is your spot, and I wouldn’t want to taint that for you.”

Regulus had never known James to be mean. He could be snappy at times, yes, and was only stern with people when they deserved it, but he was never vicious. Nasty. Petty. Those words and James as a whole just didn’t mix. So when Regulus detected a hint of that vicious poison in James’ tone, whatever olive branch he was thinking of offering burnt to a crisp in his hands.

If that was how it was going to be, then two could play that game.

“Frankly Potter, I could care less where you go or don’t go. I left for a reason, yeah? So you can fuck off back to wherever it is you just came from and we can call this conversation quits. No need to put ourselves through more misery than we need to.”

James scoffed and looked to the ground, shaking his head with a smile of disbelief. “Still haven’t changed one bit I see,” he looked back up, straight into Regulus’ eyes. “Alright then, Black, have a good night, yeah? Glad that we could have this conversation.” He saluted Regulus with two fingers to his temple, then promptly turned around and walked back out the same way he walked in.

Regulus was left standing there with his heart beating out of his chest and that same hurt still ever-present between his ribs. He’d never seen James get that vicious, nor been on the receiving end of one of his mean bouts. He’d always been nice to Regulus, spending time with him when Sirius was busy or asking him questions about whatever book he was reading at the time.

He’d liked James, even to the point of developing a crush on him, but that had been cut short when everything went to shit on his 21st birthday. He found it funny how he was supposed to be celebrated that night, but instead found himself ostracized from his friends and lost the only part of his family he’d ever actually loved.

It was his own fault, in a way, but he couldn’t help how he still held onto this grudge of bitterness and anger towards the whole situation, and especially the people involved.

But they had their own lives now and so did he, with new friends and new goals—goals that brought him far, far away from this town. He shook himself and shoved his hands in his pockets, only now registering the cold that seeped into his skin.

Regulus looked around himself, the snow now falling in thicker flakes and the darkness of the evening creeping closer around him. Bad memories fresh at the surface, the first snowfall didn’t seem so magical anymore.

He scowled at his own thoughts and stomped out of the clearing, resolutely deciding that he was going to go back to his apartment and bury himself in his studies. He wouldn’t have a chance to think about things he didn’t want to if he crammed his head full of chemical formulas.

–

Two weeks.

Two weeks was all it took before Regulus saw James again. He was working his usual shift, reorganizing the historical fiction section of the library after students all but ransacked the shelves trying to look for whatever book it was they needed, when one of the freshmen also working that day came up to him saying Ms. Pince wanted to see him up at the front.

He sighed and put down the book he was holding, counting down the minutes before he was able to go outside to the statue garden again. Regulus liked to sit there and sketch the statues from different angles. Each day they looked a bit different, from snow having melted off or freshly fallen throughout the previous night, so he sat there and tried to capture their likeness as best he could.

Of course he hadn’t forgotten what happened in the garden not ten days prior, that short interaction with James all but burned into Regulus’ brain. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the vitriol he heard in James’ voice that night, especially because it was aimed at him. He wasn't saying it wasn’t deserved—God knows he deserved much worse than that—but it was almost like there were two different versions of James in his brain now. One before Regulus’ 21st birthday, and one after.

He couldn’t really blame James, though. He was sure that if he were to waltz right back into his brother’s life right then, Sirius wouldn’t have even recognized him. Which was probably for the best, honestly.

Regulus was still lost in thought when he approached the front desk, which was the only reason why he hadn’t immediately seen who was standing right next to it. “You called for me, Ms. Pince?”

The woman turned around, her severe stare landing on Regulus over her glasses. “Ah yes, Mr. Black. Since you are my longest standing student helper here, I was hoping that you could help show Mr. Potter how we do things here. He will only be working with us for a short period of time, but I expect him to know his way around nonetheless."

Absolute dread washed down Regulus' spine in that moment, his head slowly turning to look at the person standing to his right. Sure enough, James Potter was standing there in the flesh, with a look on his face that clearly showed how unhappy he was with the situation. He tried to put on his usual charming smile for the librarian, but Regulus could see through his bullshit a mile away.

“I take it you boys already know each other?” she asked them with a raised brow when neither of them spoke up, looking between the two boys as if ready for a fight to erupt at any moment.

James looked away and cleared his throat, breaking the weird staring contest he and Regulus found themselves in. “Ah, erm, yes, we do. I’m... friends with his brother.”

“Good! Then I can leave you to your own devices. Mr. Potter, if you would please sign these papers before you start. They are just to confirm the amount of hours you will be working with us over the next six weeks.”

James nodded and bent down over the paper, reading the text and chewing at the end of the pen in his hand. Regulus scrunched his nose at the action, a bit disgusted that he would put a publicly-used object in his mouth, but ultimately turned back towards the librarian. “Ms. Pince, are you sure there’s no one else that can show him around? I was already busy with the historical fiction section and there’s still so much left to do.”

Regulus wasn’t one to complain about things, usually taking them on the chin and simply pushing through so he could get them done as soon as possible, but he would've rather been caught dead before spending six weeks teaching James Potter of all people how to stack books. He was ready to forget their interaction two weeks ago and move on like nothing happened, but clearly the universe wasn’t on his side with this one.

How utterly perfect.

Most likely having heard Regulus, James tried and failed to hide his laugh, but Regulus could see his smug smile tucked away behind his palm. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to Ms. Pince, praying and hoping she would (unknowingly) help him out just this once.

“I’m sorry Mr. Black, but you are the person best suited for the job. If you have any quarrels with each other, I suggest you get them sorted out now as I expect them to not interfere with your work,” she said with an air of finality before promptly turning around and walking back into her office.

Regulus barely held back a scoff at her expectations. Yeah, not bloody likely.

“Well Black, might as well get this over with, yeah?” James said with a smug look on his face, one Regulus was moments away from wiping off with a swift punch to his cheekbone.

Instead he curled his fingers into a fist, wishing he could be literally anybody else.

[ladyaupair]

Just randomly remembered that Doc insta post where he showed his desktop while he was writing A Better Man 😭😭

[dolotonglo]

while i think we all knew that this day was coming, i still chose, for seven years, not to give up hope. i put my faith in mappa and the yuri on ice team and while i'm not surprised by the cancellation, i'm still so dissapointed.

listen, i understand. there were a lot of factors that made production and release hard. it wasn't meant to be. i get it. but it still hurts. i still think we deserved clearer communication on this.

yuri on ice was a major part of my life for so long. that show opened my eyes to healthy queer relationships and made me realize that i was queer myself. watching the episodes as they came out and debriefing them with my friends was the highlight of my week. i have consumed fanworks from incredibly, astoundingly talented artists. i have created fanworks. i have talked to and connected with so many amazing people, all because of this show.

yuri on ice got me through the darkest points of my life. when shit hit the fan, i'd curl up in bed, wrapped in my blanket from hot topic, and loop the soundtrack to ground myself. yuri on ice has been there for every major turning point in my life, and comforted me through it.

although more recently i haven't been as involved in the fandom, it's still so, so dear to me. i'm sitting here, writing this, surrounded by yoi merch i've collected over the years. keychains, plushues, stickers. i'm blowing my nose with tissues from my makkachin tissue holder.

...it's just so surreal that the movie has finally been put to rest. but i'm happy to have known and loved this fandom, and i will carry these memories with me, always.

[spotaus]

New Age au (A Day at Dream's)

Hey y'all! This is another pre-story Drabble, this time from Dream's perspective! Exiled prince doing his best to interact with the populous and do his daily tasks! This was mainly just an attempt from me to get back into writing for this au, and ofc, fleshing out Dream! Hope y'all enjoy!

(Who do I normally tag? @ancha-aus @papiliovolens @mutzelputz I believe? Welcome back y'all!)

The morning was warm, something that Dream had to be grateful for. Ever since the incident, it seemed like he was faced with far more cloudy days than sunny ones, even in the midst of summer. The winters froze so harshly that trees would splinter at the branch, limbs cracking like cannon shots in the nights. The spring was full of awful thunder storms that spewed lightning and wrought floods, and the fall was constantly welcoming wind storms that threw around the rotten remains of plants all about. Even Blue had to admit that the weather was much worse here than his home kingdom, after the first year they’d spent at the very border of Orchard. 

Summers were hit and miss, either clinging to the traces of those awful storms, making everything sticky and humid, or beginning the dry season. This morning, as far as Dream could tell, might’ve finally been the start of a dry season. The garden didn’t seem to be swamped, it didn’t seem to be wilted either. The plants always seemed to know when rain was coming, because their leaves would downturn. After so many years, Dream made it a habit to glance out one of the back windows to make sure he knew just what to expect from the day.

Buttoning his over-cloak, he found himself lingering at the window for a second. He knew he’d have to talk with a returning scouting party later in the afternoon, their most survived thus far, but beyond that there wasn’t much else. Go about the camp, see if he could boost morale, maybe get in a training session with Blue…

Speaking of Blue, his loyal knight was seemingly nowhere to be found. 

Dream took a moment, crossing the quaint living room of their cabin to squint at the sky. Hmm, already past midday. He had been up rather late last night, night terrors plaguing him as they often did nowadays. He must’ve slept in, Blue had always been an early riser. Up just before the sun, back to bed late in the evening. Dream was pretty sure the only days he hadn’t seen Blue out on a morning jog were those that he asked the other to stick around. For safety, for planning, for breakfast… If he knew Blue well enough, which he liked to think he did, Blue was probably out right about now helping the supply carts unload to the outer tents. They always came in on the 2nd of every month, and the calendar marked it as such. Bless Blue for keeping such good track of affairs. 

The prince was practiced as he pulled on his remaining accessories. His archery gloves, which carried up to his elbows, and the thick leather boots gifted to him by a cobbler in the closest village. The boots were durable and comfortable, and while they weren’t the morst appealing at first, Blue had suggested that they find someone to embroider them with Dream’s symbol, the sun. They’d done so, asking one of the refugees they’d taken in if she could, and now they felt much more homey. Of course, it’d been several years now and they were looking worse for wear, but he’d grown a bit sentimental. 

These things were his, and he could keep them as long as he liked. No one here cared if they were mud-stained and threadbare in a few places, they were always looking at his face, after all. 

The moment they were buckled securely, Dream took the chance to stroll towards the door and push outside. 

Just as his plants suggested, the air was warm and dry, something which was deeply familiar to him, and admittedly placed him into a much warmer mood. Especially because, with the good weather, folks had gone about and placed their tapestries outside again. Banners and hanging pieces, all adorned with the shapes of the sun, in bright yellows, striking orange, and even some with that familiar pink accent. Usually, when it rained or snowed, they’d place the expensive and valuable symbols inside for safety, but with the warm air it felt only right that he could once again see his colors flying. 

It reminded him why he was doing all this. He had to regain power, to usurp his brother. Free him from whoever was whispering lies into his ears. Be crowned and see his sun in place of the moons which had infected every inch of the capital and many cities beyond. Though, for now, this was good enough. His own little paradise. 

The walk int the campsite proper was a little ways out from the cabin, a slightly thinner trail through a thin set of trees. Enough that he could see the camp, but the camp wasn’t directly connected to his little house, he needed his privacy every once in a while. 

From even the short walk away he could hear that the camp must’ve been bustling. Warm weather tended to make all of his people more active, it was familiar and welcoming, and rife with time to finish tasks like chores, or playing games, or, even better yet, training. Here there was no dedicated guard like back home, but the militia was very involved in wanting to learn combat, and Blue was certainly a good motivator for them. The clashing of steel and grunting of labored movements was one of several clue-ins that he’d have to stop by the little patch of dirt they used as a training arena of sorts. Off to the side of camp, with a few benches, a shed to store practice weapons, and several targets for aiming practice. Nothing fancy, but certainly enough for these people to learn. 

The prince could hardly help himself as he stepped into the camp proper and slipped that way. 

Each step passed colorful tents, heavy canvas died different colors by whoever most often occupied them. Some tenets were larger, housing the folks who stayed here as their home, run out of whatever village or city drove them off. Others were smaller, filled with supplies or individual tents for guests, dedicated to their returns. 

Dream passed Inl’s tent and smiled to himself in the silence. The inside fo the tent was piled high with half-finished paintings and splattered all over with different pigments. Paint was an expensive commodity, but Ink always seemed to know just how to make the brightest pigments out of the most random objects, plants and rocks and leaves he found on the ground, it was magical. The only thing he’d ever finished when he stayed at the camp for that brief while was the painting which Dream had practically begged him for, a royal portrait, or sorts. Dream sat atop a throne, Blue stood beside him at perfect attention, holding the sun-themed banner. It had been perfect, and it was another of Dream’s prized possessions. After that, Ink hadn’t had the focus to do any of the other paintings he started, but many of them were about tails of Dream’s usurpment, tails of tragedy told to him by the people, made in rough color splashes or with a big chunk of white at a corner where he lost his focus and moved on. Dream had gone inside once to make sure Ink hadn’t left anything behind before he left, but decided it felt lifeless and cold without the artist inside.And besides, Ink could never quite draw Nightmare right. Even though he’d drawn Dream perfectly, and they were identical twins, something always felt off about those pieces. 

The brief moment thinking about the artist fled. He was surely off killing some corrupt noble right about now for his own corrupt pay, and it was frankly none of Dream’s business so long as Ink wasn’t after his own people. 

His boots carried lightly over the soft grass, trodden down by the constant walking about camp. Light green and pretty, his heels sunk into soft soil beneath like some sort of bog, but it didn’t bother him a bit. If he had his way, the sun would stay out all day and dry up the ground a bit, make it more even and solid. Easier to walk over, less likely to slip into. 

To just his luck, only a few people spotted him in passing, waving or calling out to him, and a smile and a wave of recognition was all they needed to move on with their days. His aura must’ve been getting stronger, because he could only taste the ambient contentment from the entire camp as he wandered his way towards his destination. 

And, soon enough, it was upon him. That little patch of ground where the sounds had been coming from. Where the magic of monsters and the energy of humans were all alight with passion and focus. It was a wonder they all stayed so committed. Though, Dream had learned fairly quickly that people like these, who worked in farms, or crafts, making their money day to day, would work harder than any other person he’d ever met. Plus, it wasn’t nearly as hard for them to train as others. These very people could wrangle a steer with their bare hands, so all they needed was the fine-tuning and weapon training, none of the strenght building which usually took so long. 

That was probably why, now, they were as adept as they were with their weapons. Swords and halberds and morning stars and hammers, all of them clashed with another weapon or a practice dummy. Of course, there were only about 10 people out and about at the moment, but a few others sat on the sidelines. 

There was a brief moment where he was simply stood there. Something about combat, the thrill of the sounds and the movements and the force behind each swing, it was all mesmerising to him. He’d always been a natural with long-range weapons, and they were the only ones his mother ever approved of him using. Staying out of the direct line of fire, attacking from far away, that was what would protect his physical body, and his image. If he was struck in a fight, then people would look poorly upon him. Of course, if he’d become King he could’ve done anything. Could’ve learned the sword, or even daggers, and gotten up close and personal. Seen the flurry of emotions fly through his opponents eyes even before he tasted them. No mother to tell him no, no babysitter, nothing. Just him and the battle. 

Alas, here he is, still using his arrows, and still not using close-combat weaponry, unlike the training warriors before him. In fact, he was pretty positive he was one of the only people who actually used the arrow range, even if he didn’t need to anymore. Shots were engrained into his mind, muscle memory practically as easy as sleeping. Maybe easier, actually. 

Regardless, he found himself forcing his eyelights past the forms of the fighting parties, and instead skimmed for Blue. Dream didn’t want to interact with the merchants today, but he knew Blue’s next stop would most likely be here. He couldn’t ever pass up as great a day as this to practice.

“Prince Dream!” The call for him was loud and excited, and a hot rush of child-like wonder burned through his focus as he stood waiting. 

His eyelights shot over, catching sight of a monster he knew should be familiar to him. There very very few people who brought their little ones to the camp, for safety reasons mostly, and those who did often had very subdued children, ones who rarely spoke or played or caused trouble. This child was entirely different. Dream always knew they were nearby, because children’s emotions were far more potent. Adult emotions felt like a warm bath, while children’s joy, for example, was like someone had splashed hot tea onto his lap. Not painful, but far more striking. 

The tyke who rushed towards him now was giggling in high-pitched squeals and stared at him with two bright orange eyelights, beig and round. He was a little skeleton, maybe four, who had white bones with splotches of a greyish hue splattered across his face and hands. Today he was wearing a little white and yellow tunic which had obviously taken some falls into the grass since he put it on that morning.

“Copper, what did we say about running with the practice blade?” Another voice called out, this one deeper and far more familiar to Dream.

The little one, who Dream now spotted was carrying a dulled wooden dagger in one of his clumsy hands, bolted past Dream’s legs, only to pivot and rush in circles around him with an energy unmatched and giggles that were unrivaled in joy. HE was obviously getting enjoyment out of causing mischief for his guardian. 

Dream’s gaze traveled away from Copper with his smile in-tact, not getting a look at the adult whom he knew he knew. Eclipse, one of Copper’s two parents. He was also a skeleton, older than Dream by at least a decade, and much taller with broader shoulders. His bones were a perfect white, his face a bit long, and his eyelights a simple white. He was wearing a tunic not unlike his son, but adorned with all sorts of belts and a heavy fur wrapped around his shoulders despite the heat. It was a dark brown, his partner’s prized pelt. 

Of course, he should’ve expected to see Eclipse sometime today. He’d been eagerly awaiting his partner’s return from the mission. They’d be back tonight.

“Eclipse, how have you been?” Dream asked courteously, drawing his eyes back to Copper with a plan rapidly forming. 

Eclipse came to a halt beside him, at least an arm’s length away, and sighed a fond sigh. “I am faring well, all considered. Since Ichor went off for this mission, Copper’s been insisting that he has to learn to fight so he can protect us.” Eclipse said. “I apologize for his antics, he’s insisted that he start training right away.”

Eclipse sounded humored, but Dream could feel the tiredness seeping from his shoulders. A tension that was surely weighing on him. For a moment, it had entirely slipped his mind, but a glance confirmed his suspicion. Ichor and Eclipse had been away from camp fro a few weeks, about four months back. They’d had a soulling, and now it sat bundled in Eclipse’s arms, quiet and content, probably sleeping. Something warmed Dream’s heart, knowing that this little skelton was under the impression that he could defend his father and little sibling. 

Dream chuckled under his breath and gave a genuine grin, letting a small burst of positivity wave away from his core, pushing back a bit of Eclipse’s worry along with it. 

“No need to be sorry, I was eager to train when I was young too.” Dream confided, but before Eclipse could give a response, Dream crouched and shot his arms out, catching Copper under the arms and practically tossing him up into the air. He was obviously taken by surprise, because he shrieked with glee and stared at Dream with his big eyelights and the biggest smile. He looked a lot like his other parent, Dream realized. 

Copper giggled and Dream held him aloft. Copper hardly weighed anything, and it was a little cute how he kicked his muddy little boots in the open air as Dream held him aloft. He was entirely unbothered by his capture, and the energy obviously had yet to fade. 

“So, you want to be big and strong to protect your father and little sibling?” Dream asked to Copper, making a mock serious face, obviously exaggerated and playful. 

Copper gasped and nodded rapidly, excitedly brandishing his little wooden dagger. “Papa gave me dis! I stab any bad guys!” He insisted excitedly, swishing it around wildly in his little hand, arm limited to his side by the way Dream was holding him. 

Now this was an excited little fellow. Very cute and lively. Dream wondered if he ad this much energy, rushing ahead of his twin to get out into the courtyard and run around, climb the trees when their babysitter wasn’t looking. Nightmare sometimes wrestled with him, he missed those days. 

“Well, I thin you have the makings to be a brave warrior!” Dream encouraged, Copper wriggling happily in his grip, “Just remember, your papa and father want to keep you safe too, so listen to them, alright? That’s how you can get to be just as strong as them.” 

This was met by Copper’s nodding yet again, “So, don’t go running with that dangerous blade, alright? You might accidentally stab a not-bad guy.” Dream added, to which Copper gasped.

The little boy pulled one of his hands to cover up his mouth with wide eyes, shaking his head vigorously. “I won’t stab a not-bad guy! Only bad bad guys!” He insisted. 

Dream just shook his head and tutted, “I know, I know, but accidents happen! My friend Ink, he fights with knives sometimes, and he tripped and almost stabbed someone right in the eye once!” Dream exclaimed, and closed his right socket dramatically. 

This seemed to make Copper hold back a growing smile, and instead his expression was something almost close to a pout. His best attempt at a serious face, Dream had to imagine. Copper nodded one singular, forceful, nod this time. Some sort fo silent pledge not to run with his dagger anymore. 

Dream smiled at him, “Good, good! First step to becoming a strong warrior, listen to your parents.” he insisted, before lowering Copper down with a smooth motion. 

The kid giggled again as Dream rustled the top of his skull, and Copper made careful steps towards his dad, an obvious attempt at suddenly being responsible with the harmless wooden blade. Dream was a little proud, usually he did much worse with kids, had to resort to his magic. Maybe Blue was rubbing off on him after all.

“You really are a miracle-worker, my Prince.” Eclipse said softly, reaching one of his own hands down to gently caress the top of Copper’s skull. He nuzzled into his father’s leg and hugged it, attention distracted by watching the other fight not far off from them. 

Dream didn’t deny it, and instead just slunk a bit closer. He peered down at the babybones wrapped in Eclipse’s arm, held snug in place by a sling. It was pearly white just like its brother, but had a slightly longer face with pronounced cheekbones. Dream couldn’t help but notice the tension return to Eclipse’s emotions. 

“What’s their name, have you two decided yet? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to check in with you sooner.” Dream asked.

Eclipse seemed unbothered when Dream lifted a hand and gently brushed it against the babybone’s skull. It didn’t stir, didn’t even seem to register the contact. 

“His name is Steel.” Eclipse answered softly, “I told Ichor we wouldn’t be naming any more after metal alloys, but I can never say no to him. Steel’s eyelights are a beautiful shade of metallic silver, it was just too fitting.” Eclipse muttered. “And please, don’t trouble yourself with it. We are well aware of how busy you have been.” 

Eclipse gently bounced his arm a bit, and the babybones curled a bit closer to his chest, burying into the fur cloak draped over Eclipse’s shoulders. He seemed a bit more at ease as the little one gave a little smile in his sleep.

“Handsome name, Ichor has good taste I’m afraid.” Dream teased, eliciting a smale laugh from Eclipse.

“Do you think he’ll make it home safe, my prince?” Eclipse suddenly asked. 

Dream blinked in surprise, looking up to Eclipse. The other skeleton still had his eyes on the babybones tucked against his chest, but Dream had a feeling he was being watched nonetheless.

“You mean Ichor?” He asked, and to a hum of confirmation, he tilted his head with a grin, “I’m sure he’ll come home safe and sound. Blue’s been sure to send him on non-combat missions, and with plenty of back-up and supplies. We both know that he has a family waiting for him here, we wouldn’t send him anywhere dangerous.” 

That was a lie. Dream didn’t have any qualms about it. He just knew it was a lie. Every mission was dangerous, could turn to combat, and might end in death. Every person here, as much as Blue tried to deny, was expendable. They were part of a cause, they had to be. Of course, Dream would never put children in danger, but Ichor, just like every other person here, came willingly looking to help. He volunteered his family for this willingly. 

Of course, that isn’t what people like to hear. So, he’ll tell him things he’s heard Blue say. Blue was so kind-hearted, a softie. The moment he heard Ichor and Eclipse were having another soulling he’d re-assigned all their missions and work, and even after they’d both recovered, after Ichor was no longer carrying, he sent the guy on the easier missions. Blue didn’t want to split a family. 

Eclipse sighed, almost with relief, at Dream’s words. “Thank you, my Prince. I suppose I’m just worried over nothing. I’ve been known to do such silly things.” Eclipse relented, and smiled. It was tired, but much happier than before. Dream’s aura must’ve finally gotten to him. Broken down those worries. 

“Anytime, Eclipse. I suppose I’ll see you at their return tonight?” Dream voiced, though he knew the answer. Of course he’d be there. 

Eclipse only took a few more moments, wishing Dream a good rest of the day, before he ushered his son foreward and off elsewhere. Dream waved goodbye to them until they passed a corner, and he internally sighed in relief as he turned back to his original goal. 

Dream moved closer by a few paces and plopped himself down onto one of the benches, one side left empty by someone who had just rushed onto the field. He summoned his bow to his hands and fiddled with the string, and ill-disguised attempt at seeming busy as he just watched the proceeding spars. 

So many people stopped him daily around camp, often simply wanting to chat and catch up on their lives. Eclipse’s new babybones was, thankfully, the most exciting piece of news in the last few months, but before that was a wedding between a bunny monster and a hare monster, before that was the death of someone’s spouse and a subsequent burial, before that siblings reunited, they all had their own stories and things to keep track of. Dream found it trivial, but unfortunately, everyone expected him to now these things, remember them, keep track and ask when they met outside of business times. If he wanted these people to stay, he needed to know. 

His only grace was that Blue was very talented in chatting. Where Dream could rouse crowds and battalions, Blue thrived in a setting of just one or two, and somehow knew just about everything about everyone. They’d talk over dinner, about what they did while split up doing their duties. Dream would tell him about the state of the garden, or the new map he managed to draw up with the cartographer, while blue would tell him all the latest menial news. Crushes, holiday plans, when new people were coming in, all of it. He was always so happy, that Dream simply learned to remember it through him. Shockingly an easy feat. 

The clanging of swords and the heat were both a welcome comfort, Dream was soaking in the sun like some sort of lizard on its rock.

Dream just hoped he wouldn’t eat his words later. Blue had sent ichor and a few others on a mission to simply attend the latest ball, and annual celebration for one of his brother’s elite knights. The Criminal, he thought, the one with the tiger mask. Killer. The parties hadn’t had conflict in the four years they’d been running, and Dream was pretty sure ichor wouldn’t go missing. Yet, anyone they sent directly to the capital had a habit of not returning. Blue had forbade him from sending more spies that way, and had only agreed to send a small party because the ball was meant to be open to the public, so they wouldn’t be technically intruding or trespassing. Along with that, Ichor wasn’t directly affiliated with their cause. Eclipse, up until now, was usually the one more familiar with intel-work. Ichor had always been more focused on welfare and support. So, Ichor couldn’t be recognized. ‘

Dream would just have a lot of explaining to do if his promise went awry. Grieving souls were never easy, especially those who had children in tow. They often loved the hardest, and fell shortly after their beloved. Frankly, Dream didn’t want to lose two promising members of the rebellion, or be left with their children in the worst case scenario.

The prince sighed to himself. Blue would scold him for thinking like this. Maybe he should worry less about the return party and more about his own training. He couldn’t risk getting rusty now. 

-     -

Dream was aware the range was a bit out of his sight from where he’d wandered off to get a drink of water, but when he returned, he hadn’t expected to find an arrow embed itself into the block he was passing beside. 

He jumped a bit with the force of the heavy thunk and almost choked on his own breath when he spotted exactly who was actually training with a bow of all things. 

Across the range, looking wide-eyed and surprised, was Blue! He had their heavy long-bow clutched in his right hand, an arrow hanging to his side y his left, and a whole slew of arrows leaned against the fence behind him, the kind with thin, piercing points that could tear through armor. Dream had never been more baffled, amused, and amazed all in one. Why was Blue training archery?

“Dream! Hey!” Blue called out, and he sounded a bit awkward. 

Dream took a moment to examine the arrow which had pieced the block of hay they were using as a target. It had entirely missed the circle, actually passing itself at an odd angle through he side, the point poking out from the other end haphazardly. That must’ve used a lot of force if nothing else. 

Actually, it seemed Blue might’s been making some progress. Dream had been gone for almost half an hour, caught up in talk with one of the new refugees, welcoming them to the camp. That had given his knight plenty of time to try more than enough shots. Dream spotted now the several arrows which had dug themselves into the dirt, all at a downward falling angle as through Blue had been aiming for the dirt. Then, beyond the hay bale, he could see that several trees in the woods beyond had arrows embedded in them. He didn’t know how he’d missed them, honestly. 

Dream circled back and gripped one which had dug into a pine tree’s skinny trunk, and tugged with all his might. He nearly stumbled, and the end of the arrow seemed to have sap coating it, like blood of the tree itself. 

Dream actually laughed as he finally approached his knight, the arrow in-hand. 

“If you wanted syrup so badly, we could’ve asked for some on the resupply.” Dream joked.

He tapped the shaft of the arrow to the top of Blue’s skull, and the knight sheepishly ducked away from the sticky feeling, the arrow moving with him for a moment before springing away. Blue’s eyelights didn’t evade Dream’s, but Dream couldn’t help but notice the embarrassment becoming far more potent from his friend. 

“Ah, yes, you see…” Blue started, before pausing, “I had no intention of harming the flora.” Blue said, though it seemed a bit half-hearted. 

Blue rubbed at his skull as he lowered the long-bow from his front, down to his side. It was a huge weapon, with a string practically made of metal. Dream didn’t usually bother with the long-bows, sticking to the normal bows, or in desperate situations, crossbows. It took way too much power to shoot a longbow for his liking, limited movement. Usually people on horses used them. Dream couldn’t see the light leave someone’s eye from atop a finicky horse. 

“It was a good shot, even if you didn’t mean to hit the poor tree, Blue.” Dream amended. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass Blue, it was obvious the mood was tanking with Dream’s ill-timed jokes. “Can I ask why you’re trying out the long-bow today?” 

The feeling of Blue’s pride washing over Dream like a comforting blanket as the other seemed to get a second wind. He puffed his chest and lifted the bow right in front of him again. 

“The Magnificent Blue has actually been learning to shoot for some time! The smaller ones that you use are not very cooperative, but this large one does well!” The explained proudly, “It was meant to be a surprise, but I would not lie to you!” 

He seemed largely unbothered by the fact that this secret of his had just been broken wide open. Though, Dream had to imagine this had been going on for a while now. The last time Dream had seen Blue attempt to shoot an arrow, it had narrowly avoided breaking their window in the back garden. They still had a notch in the wall on the back porch, because Dream begged Blue not to fill it in. He’d laughed so hard, and back then he’d needed a good-

“Wait, why was it going to be a surprise?” Dream asked curiously, raising a brow to watch Blue.

The knight laughed loudly, “Because! The plan was to get very very good at it, and then join you for a practice one day and show you! I know you are very talented with lond-range weapons, and if I were too, then I could fight beside you without placing you in danger! You mentioned it once, a while back.” Blue explained as though it was the simplest thing in the world. 

Dream felt a little something in his chest shift to the left as he processed what Blue was referencing. He had mentioned that. Back when they had to scare off some bandits during their trip here, before they found the cottage. He wished Blue hadn’t had to charge in while Dream sat up in a tree and shot at them. Dream had wanted to be in the fray, but… Blue thought he wanted them both to be long range fighters? So they could stay close? 

That was up there with some of the most heartwarming things Blue had ever done for Dream. Trust him, there were a LOT of heartwarming things Blue had done. This was surely, however, in the top 15. 

“Oh, that’s kind of you.” Dream said gently, 

In his distraction, Blue had knocked another arrow and lifted it up. Lined it. Drew the string back. Released. 

The heavy string cut through the air with a vocal slapping noise, and both skeletons watched idly as the arrow arced through the air and just hardly skimmed the top of the hay bail, chunking into the ground somewhere behind it instead. There was a moment of Blue letting out a breath and calmly lowering the bow before he grinned again at Dream. His expression was so concentrated not two moments before. 

“You know that I would do anything for you, Dream. Besides, using a bow is rather fun! I was unaware of how careful you have to be while firing, and setting it up, and aiming.” He listed off with a laugh. 

Now the bow was back at Blue’s side, and Dream was even a bit impressed with his bow etiquette. It wasn’t pressed to the first at his side, he wasn’t fidgeting and bending it, even his motions before he hadn’t dared to dryfire with it. He wondered if Blue had picked it up from him, or if he’d sought out advice from another bowman somewhere. Either way.

“I never meant to discourage you from using your hammer, Blue. I know you’re the happiest while fighting with it.” Dream said earnestly, “But if you wish to continue working with the long-bow, I’m sure I could give you a few pointers.” 

At the enthused expression he received from his knight, Dream grinned, “And then maybe you could teach me to use a hammer. Or, maybe a morning star? They always seemed to have a fitting name.” Dream teased, but Blue seemed even more delighted by the thought.

“That sounds great! We should start now!” Blue agreed, and readied his bow again. 

Dream was a bit startled, but couldn’t bring himself to deny the enthusiasm. After all, he’d been hoping to train with Blue today anyways. 

He watched again as Blue lined up his shot, but this time, he actually watched carefully. He moved behind Blue, and immediately saw a smidge of problem. 

“Here, lift your elbow a bit higher.” He instructed, He stepped forward and set his hand under Blue’d elbow, the one which was pulling his arrow back. He shifted under the touch and stopped right where Dream stopped nudging. Immediately his posture looked a lot better, and his aim seemed more sure. 

“Try pointing a bit further to the right, you’re leaning left.” He added on, and saw Blue squint a bit harder at his target, before repositioning his aim, shifting his feet along with it before Dream could say anything. 

Then, when Dream gave the commend to release, Blue sent the arrow flying. 

This time, it whistled as it shot and struck the bail right at the top ring of the target, almost dead center. Blue whooped an excitement, and Dream hummed. He could’ve sworn that would’ve hit the bullseye…

Without much through, Dream summoned his own bow and took aim from Blue’s side. His night went quiet, watching intently, and Dream let loose his arrow with less than half the preparation time, hardly a thought. Just as he’d expected of Blue’s, the arrow pierced the center of the ring flawlessly, though it didn’t sink in nearly as deep. His brow furrowed as the stared at the target. Why hadn’t Blue’s shot done that?

Sure, the bow was heavier, the arrow too, but the fundamentals should’ve been the same. The golden arrow and landed below the other one, why was that?

“Dream?” Blue’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Dream blinked at Blue, and Blue stared back at him, seeming mildly worried.

“My apologies, could you try hitting my arrow? I’ll spot you again.” Dream requested, and Blue just nodded and prepared himself again. 

This time, Blue automatically placed his elbow up and turned himself to the right. Dream didn’t even need to do more than a little nudge to his arm to encourage a slight but more movement to the right. Blue should strike this perfectly.

The arrow flew, beautifully with a bit of a spin, and… Lodged a few inches to the left of the target. He was aiming right! How-

Ohhhhhh.

“That was great, Blue! You had everything but an extra set of eyes to direct you, good work!” Dream praised.

Now Blue celebrated properly, wrapping his arms around Dream’s sides in a heavy hug. A familiar one that Dream returned, as he realized how silly he had been for a moment. His arrows weren’t affected by the wind. Blue’s weren’t magic, so of course the air would throw them off course! For a brief, horrifying, moment he worried he’d somehow stumbled in his directions. It was just the wind. 

Blue's hug was tight and affectionate, and very very welcome. Dream savored it, returning it tightly, until Blue released him and raised the bow once more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to train until the caravan arrived in a few hours.

-    -    

Poor choices. He didn’t make many, but he wasn’t going to try and claim that training right up until the arrival was a good call. All he was expected to do was welcome them back, and then listen toIchor recount any important information they’d picked up on, but still. He didn’t enjoy being all grimy and sweaty and middy was the best look or the most comfortable. His only solace was that Blue was equally messay, so he didn’t feel too out of place.

Ask they approached the path into camp, they saw that the light of a lantern was glowing just a bit down the way, and there alone the road stood the sentinels for the night, and Eclipse. 

Eclipse still wore that same tunic as before, though it had gained a grass stain along the bottom hem, no doubt from Copper breaking off at a full sprint at some point during the day. The skeleton himself was without his children, and when Blue greeted him and asked, it turned out he’d left them with someone named Jodie. One of the humans, he believed, a kind elderly woman here with her adult son. Eclipse looked exhausted, but Dream could tell is must’ve been from building worry. Nim help him and make sure that Ichor returns on that cart in one piece.

They stood there together in the quiet, and when the carriage pulled to a stop before them, Dream counted as each person hopped off and stood at attention before himself and Blue. One, two, three, for, five, six, seven… Eight. Ichor must’ve been looking to give his partner a soul-attack, because he was the last of the party to jump off the back of the cart, a thick bag slung over his back and his grin wide and stupid as ever.

Dream acted like he didn’t notice as Eclipse bowled into Ichor’s side, nearly tripping the both of them over and into the grass. Technically, procedure was that Dream would be the first to hear any of them speak, as they could’ve been keeping secrets. However, he knew better than to get between lover birds. That was more of a headache than it was worth. 

Only when the two were done and Eclipse gave Ichor a swift peck on the forehead did Dream usher everyone into the debriefing tent to discuss their findings.

“You’re saying he’s bringing in new knights?” Dream questioned.

Everyone had been explaining their stories, but it seemed that Ichor had managed to get the closest. Hear the most. A servant had tripped over him and spilled a red wine on his suit, so he followed them back to the servants halls to get it cleaned up. Because he was so amicable, the maids weren’t very quiet and told him exciting news. Two more knights being trained.

Ichor had asked more, as much as he dared, but all he could get was that one of them was straight out of the dungeon, and the other one was burly and definitely a foreigner. Some sort of hired body, they swore. It’d be fall when the next party was rumored to be happening. 

Dream hated to hear such a thing. The first criminal was enough, but this second one? And then another? Dream couldn’t fathom what sorts of horrible plans were being fed into his twin’s mind, what horrid plans they were going to enact, criminals and thugs running the country by his brother’s side? 

He sighed a bit, resting a hand against his chin. 

“Did you see my twin at all?” He asked then, to the group.

Ichor was the only one to nod, and Dream gestured to him. 

“The guy was just as guarded as ya said. The Tiger kept circling back up to the balcony where he was hanging, but the stairs were all blocked off by guards, and some other folks were sitting up there with him. Magic on one of ‘em was strong.” Ichor explained, and Dream squinted as the torchlight glinted off of the skeleton’s single gold tooth. Now his pelt had been returned to him, and he looked perfectly barbaric, like the first day Dream had seen him. 

“Mm, unfortunate. My brother is smart, he wouldn’t spare any detail in his protection, I suppose.” Dream muttered, before simply nodding. “Thank you, all. I’m sure you’ve had a tiring past few nights. Go to your tents and rest up, I’ll call upon you if I need to speak with you again sometime later in the week.” 

He didn’t really want to dismiss them, but it was obvious half of them had gotten drunk off their asses within the first five minutes of being at the party. Ichor was really the only one with any good information, and even then, it was extremely limited. Of course, Dream had to be grateful that Nightmare must’ve been slipping with controlling the tittering tongues of his servants, it saved him the trouble of having to wait any longer for information. 

Nightmare adding new, dangerous, knights was not ideal, 

He watched as the party slowly filtered out, some stumbling, some half-awake, and even Ichor yawning as he ducked out of the tent. The only one who didn’t immediately flee was Blue, who sat for a few minutes longer before popping to his feet, gathering the notes strewn across the table, and helping Dream to his feet. 

Together, they left the tent and moved back to the cottage. By now it was far into the night, and Dream could see the stars out. The moon, a thin crescent, seemed to mock him as he took careful steps in the darkness of the path.  At least he’d gotten to enjoy the remaining sun the day had gifted him. 

When they entered the cottage, Dream groaned and moved immediately for the couch. He could try to sleep, but he knew Blue still had to do his nightly routine, and he wouldn't be able to rest with the new information that had been provided. 

“We’ll figure it out.” Blue said unprompted from across the main room. 

His friend was organizing the papers from tonight into a nice little box where they kept all the notes for their plans, and when he placed it back on the shelf, he moved over to the dummy in the corner of the room where he always hung his armor. Every night. 

“I know we will, it’s just…” Ough, he couldn’t say it! This was so infuriating! Every scout who managed to come back only brought him worse and worse news. 

“Do you know, or are you just saying that? Because I know that I know we can figure this out! Two monsters can’t make the difference in a coup!” Blue stated matter-of-factly as he undid the buckles on his chest plate and lifted it up onto its rightful spot. Next followed the boots and Dream watched him. The prince was practically deflated on the cushions of the old couch, a pillow quickly tugged into this arms. 

He was right. Dream knew it, he usually was after all. Still. It wasn’t the fighting that worried him. No, he and Blue alone could probably beat up whatever petty criminals were cabhorting with his twin. It was just… 

“I do. I just- I- I don’t know how my twin could be so stupid!” He exclaimed, practically burying his skull into the pillow, bringing his knees up to his chest, practically curling into a ball. “He was meant to be my advisor, he was the clever one. How could he resort to killers and hired mercenaries. After all those classes he used to tell me about, all the lessons he had to go to, how could he decide to take this path?” He said, hoping his voice was muffled by the cushion.

Unfortunately, like most items in this cottage, it seemed to be cheap and only decorative. No muffling capabilities in sight. He heard Blue sigh, and for a few minutes, the only noise was Blue removing the rest of his armor. 

When it faded, he strained to listen, and caught the floorboards creaking ever so gently under the weight of his friend’s approach. Then there was a pause, and then a weight on Dream’s skull. It trailed heavily down his neck and to his shoulders, before repeating itself. A soothing motion, one that Dream resisted for a moment. 

“I never got to meet him, but I do know you! I think we can definitely knock some sense back into him.” Blue reassured him, and this time Dream listened. 

Blue was right, after all. Blue had been able to knock sense into Dream. If anyone could bring Nightmare back to his senses, it would be Blue. 

He let the skeleton keep doing that comforting motion against his skull for a few more minutes, savoring the contact, before he sighed heavily and shrugged. Blue retracted his hand, and was watching Dream with a soft smile when the prince finally lifted his head. The two of them stared at each other for a moment, before Dream smiled back. 

They both really needed to get some rest. 

[miraluking-respectfully]

felix being referred to more or less exclusively as "your soldier" in-game speaks to how little the writers put into his character beyond his noggin full of sith secrets & his relationship with the consular; still, i do find it kind of sweet and funny, in a way. he's not a republic soldier, not even your personal bodyguard; he's your soldier. the consular is a small nation-state in and of herself

[whattraintracks]

Okay folks. What if I did something wild and posted a bunch of old (non-tmnt) fics with minimal further editing??

[moongothic]

Lotta people wondering if there is correlation between "Haki can reverse DF status effects" and "Croc never used Haki" (-> "he can't use Haki lest it detranses him"), and while plausible

I do want to ask, do y'all think Haki could reverse what Shinobu did to Momonosuke? No, this is related I swear

Like my logic is that there's generally speaking two types of Devil Fruit abilities

there's ones that create "temporary status effects" onto others, either wearing off with time or if the user passes out/dies/undoes the ability (Foxy, Sugar, Bonney etc)

ones that change you permanently and won't become undone even if the user died (though some may still be reversible by the original user) (Hancock, Shinobu etc)

And as we know, Haki can reverse those temporary status effects, as we see Law do with the Sickness Doc Q inflicted on him and his crew, right

So the question is, while Haki can reverse the temporary changes, can it also break through those (mostly) irreversible changes? Do you think Momonosuke could reverse Shinobu's Ripening ability and deage himself if he mastered his Haki?

Because I feel like, if not, Crocodile could totally use Haki (if he can in the first place) without it undoing Iva-chan's HRT, because Iva-chan's HRT is supposed to be permanent, it doesn't wear off, the only way to reverse it is supposed to be by Iva-chan's own hands

But if Momonosuke could deage himself again by mastering his Haki, then I feel like Crocodile could indeed be in trouble

[ethosiab]

Guys I have ocs too. Check her out she's been the thing keeping me hinged since I was 12

[bionicboxes]

OC-tober Day 2+3: New and Old

Fly Guy is my newest guy, and Blank is my oldest I still use on a technicality. Since I draw these dudes in various outfits a bunch I wanted to draw them together, so I did :)

[thousandseal]

that panel where tsuna compares sakura to dan and nawaki , i have so many thoughts about it. like how it effected how tsuna trained her, the responsibility, the exceptions and worries she projected on to sakura, listen if sakura had said even once she wanted to be hokage, tsunade would have been her #1 campaigner

[rrcenic]

hey you guys should read the winnie the pooh/bee movie (with a camp camp reference because i was a basic bitch) short horror story i wrote in 7th grade

cw for blood, violence, substance abuse, addiction, and overall gore/horror

Morning dawned on the little cottage in the Hundred Acre Wood. The little yellow furry yawned, stretched his legs, and slowly waddled to his bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw Winnie the Pooh, an innocent little bear.

Well, at least, he used to be an innocent little bear.

It had been 6 years since Christopher Robin left for boarding school.

6 years since the honey addiction started.

6 years since he started trying to find his father.

8 months ago, Owl’s black market trade of honey smuggled in from America had gone dry. Apparently, the bees had revolted against the honey companies. But Pooh had enough. 

Until he didn't.

Honey substitutes kept him sane, but they weren't enough. He had psychotic breakdowns, he was shaky, unstable. And worst of all: Christopher Robin never responded to his texts.

Piglet couldn't take it anymore. He did some digging online and found records of possible families. He gave Pooh the address of an investigation bureau. 

So he traveled to America, with a note to the office. But at this point he’d given up on finding his family. He now had one goal in mind: 

Find honey

Pooh pulled his black hoodie over his head as he jumped out of the white van. He quickly clipped the barbed wires and snuck into the abandoned honey farm. Sneaking in was highly illegal, and just the slightest creak made 

Pooh jump. He took a deep breath and kept walking.

The abandoned hives had started to decay, the honey had rotted and turned red. In this lighting, Pooh could have sworn it looked like...blood… 

No! he thought, It's just my imagination… 

He stopped, and sniffed, his little black nose sticking tentatively out of his hood, his yellow snout scrunched up...did he smell what he thought he smelled?

Honey!

Pooh ran towards the hive, forgetting about the idea of staying secret. Sweet, sweet honey! He began to shovel it into his mouth, when he heard a small voice.

“Hey! Don't you know the laws!” shouted a bee, standing there with his arms crossed.

“It's just a little honey!” Pooh pouted.

“If you take another mouthful of that honey, you will forever pay the consequences!” the bee continued. “You’ll face the wrath of me, Barry B. Benso-”

Pooh had run out of patience. He quickly stomped on the bee and continued eating, convinced that the bee was dead and he wouldn't be bothered again. He scampered over to another hive.

Behind him, Barry’s hand twitched.

When he was full, he filled his van with as many jars of honey as possible. Pooh knew he had to get out of there fast, so while he left, he didn't pay attention to the 25 mph speed limit sign, and was half-an-hour away from the old farm when he first heard the police sirens. He sighed and pulled over.

However, the police officer immediately noticed the sticky red stuff on his yellow paws. “And one more question,” the officer asked after Pooh received the ticket. “What is that?”

Pooh panicked. Honey was illegal now, and he didn't want to be put in jail. “Uhhhh, corn syrup?” he cringed.

“Oh, really?” the officer scoffed. “It looks suspiciously like... blood.”

“It's not! I swear!” Pooh shouted.

The officer grabbed his paw. “Wait, is this honey?”

Pooh hit the gas

He quickly found a place to sleep. A dingy motel, the color of mildew, that smelled like wet socks. Pooh was so tired from the police chase and the jet lag, and the honey effects were starting to wear off. Pooh sighed and rolled over. He tried to sleep, but a little scratching noise on the wall kept him awake. Eventually, he sighed, took a swig of honey, and stood up.

“What is that noise?” he asked. Pooh looked over to the small, dirty window. It was open, and there was a hole in the bug screen. Small enough for a bee to fit in...

I'm just paranoid, he assured himself. Barry is dead. I killed him...didn't I?

“You didn't do a good job of it.” a buzzing whisper echoed around the room. 

“Barry?! How are you alive! How do you know what I'm thinking?!” Pooh screeched.

“Oh Pooh, I was never alive. I’m not a normal bee.” Barry smiled a crooked, dead smile. “And you’ve destroyed my mortal body and taken my bee syrup. I'm here for revenge.”

“B-b-but where are you?” Pooh whimpered.

“We are right outside your window” the voice responded.

We? Pooh though. But he’s only one bee...

Pooh looked outside and let out a shriek.

Swarms of bees crowded around his small window. And they looked intent on revenge. Pooh quickly hid the jar behind his back and slammed the window.

Two hours had passed and Pooh was still cowering in his room. Sure, he had stolen some honey. Sure, he had squished the lead bee. But how did Barry get here so fast? Who were the other bees? Eventually, his curiosity got the better of him.

Pooh cracked the window. “Uhm, so sorry to bother you, but...who are you?” he whispered cautiously.

“We are Barry B. Benson, the reincarnation of every bee you’ve ever stolen honey from, and we are here to make sure it never happens again. Barry NEVER forgets. In fact, we are already on the path to vengeance.” the bees screeched in unison. 

“What-what have you done?” Pooh whimpered.

Barry smiled. “Why do you think Christopher Robin won't  talk to you?”

“H-he’s at school, he may have forgotten-”

The bees began to cackle as Barry held up a rotted head. Pooh’s vision clouded. No, no, no- 

He was paralized by the indescribable sight.

(authors note: i edited this at age 12 im sorry)

Pooh ran.

The flight back is in 20 minutes, Pooh told himself. I’ll be fine, it'll be fine. He had all of his honey hidden under his fur coat, which blended in with his fuzzy yellow figure. As soon as he could see the JFK check-in, he slammed on the breaks and ran for it. Through check-in, through security, through international customs, and to Gate 1B of British Airways. The stewardess offered him a cup of coffee. He panicked and threw it back at her, covering her in boiling liquid and mumbling something about wanting tea. The seatbelt signs came on, and Pooh relaxed. He was safe now, there was no way Barry could find him here.

On the back of the plane, a woman asked the grumpy stewardess why there were thousands of bees outside her window.

Cameron Campbell was not your average man. He’d had several crumbling careers, including a failed fast-food chain called McCampbells, a Russian honey-smuggling business, a mini war with Kentucky, and a summer camp. But he’d spent his time in jail towards becoming a better person, and was ready for his first day as a co-pilot. His partner had gone to use the bathroom and left him steering the plane. He smiled, his grey mustache shining in the sun, and turned on the speaker. 

“This is your captain speaking. We’re currently passing over the Atlantic Ocean. That island you can see in the distance is-” 

He was momentarily distracted by a half-decomposed bee holding an ax above his head. Cameron dropped the speaker and screamed. “WHAT?! WHO ARE YOU- PLEASE DON'T KILL ME, PLEASE-”

With the speed of a bullet, it lodged itself deep into Cameron’s eye. With one last scream, his body went limp. Barry B. Beson was deep in Cameron’s brain. Barry concentrated hard, and bees swarmed Cameron’s eyes. Barry was now in complete control. Cameron’s body smiled and steered straight down, towards the ocean.

“We apologize for the noise and turbulence. Please remain calm. Everything will be fine.” 

He clicked off the microphone and locked the cockpit door.

Pooh knew what had happened. He didn't know how it had happened, but he knew that voice. Barry had found him. Pooh ran as fast as he could, but he knew it was pointless. He was trapped. 

The bees began to swarm throughout the plane, attacking the other passengers. Pooh hid under a seat, in an empty dog cage. The buzzing suddenly stopped. Pooh looked up. 

There were people sprawled everywhere, covered in stinger scratches and dripping with red. Pooh tried not to vomit at the sight. A small child stirred. Pooh ran over, trying to see if he was alive. 

“H-hello? Are you quite well?” he whispered.

The child turned around. In her empty eyes, Pooh could see the familiar glare of Barry B. Benson. 

“Oh, I feel just nifty, Winnie benson.” it creaked softly. 

“B-Benson? What?” Pooh stuttered.

“That's right, pooh. Why do you think you like honey so much? It runs   in the family.” Barry’s voice echoed.

In a way, Pooh realized he’d succeeded. He’d found his father. But all these people would be alive if he hadn't. 

The lifeless bodies of the passengers stood up and smiled at Pooh, blood dripping from their empty sockets. There was nowhere Pooh could run. He slammed on the cockpit door, knowing it would make no difference. Tears streamed down his face. No, no, no, this wasn't how it ended!

The door opened. Pooh ran inside and leaned against the door. He had about 3 minutes till the swarm penetrated the metal barrier.

Pooh curled up into a ball and screamed. He shouldn't have come here at all. Should have listened to his friends. There was no one to blame but himself. All the bees he’d killed had come back to find him. He’d tried to hide from it, but it was true. There was nowhere he could go where his past couldn't catch up. Nowhere he could run where his problems couldn't find him.

He noticed the parachute bag, 5 feet away from him. There was still hope for the little yellow bear! He wiped his nose, then quickly strapped the bag on and opened the emergency exit door.  Pooh thought about everything he had to live for, took a deep breath, and jumped.

Pooh was falling fast. He fearfully pulled the parachute. It opened and-

He kept falling. Pooh panicked and looked up. The parachute was full of little, bee-shaped holes. In one last moment of paralyzing fear for what would happen now, he managed to squeak, “Oh, bother!” before he hit the water.

They never found any trace of Winne the Pooh ever again, except for a small, empty jar of honey with his TikTok username scrolled on the bottom. They never found the bees, either. But legend tells us that every time you take the life of a bee, its soul joins the ever-growing form of Barry B. Benson.

And Barry never forgets.

[tryingthisfangirlthing]

So. @purlturtle tagged me in a thing and now we all get to suffer for it. ;3

RULES: post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Okay, to start with: I do not have a WIP folder. My Google Docs is a conglomerate of utter disorganization that somehow manages to still function as a repository of writing. Sort of.

Many of these are just snippets that are more or less a ghost of an idea, or that probably deserve their rest in the quiet soil of the cemetery of fleeting ideas. Others are determined to haunt me until I give them some sort of manifestation, or finish shaping their forms. Who knows, maybe y'all will turn one into the other?

To make all of this a little easier on everyone, I am going to organize this by ship and/or fandom. Buckle the fuck up.

Bering and Wells / Warehouse 13

Save Thy Tears Bering & Wells

Under Your Gaze (I Could Conquer The World, Babe) ****

7. It Means She Never Wants to Hurt *

A Difference Of Opinion (Libidinous)

Bering/Wells Circus AU | In the Ring, In the Stall, Dear, For You, I'll Risk It All

Bering & Well Dawnguard Vol. 1 **

Like the Last Breath of a Dying Star

Bering/Wells Comfort Sex in Moscow

Bering/Wells "Vendetta" trip home

Myka/Helena "Fall into Heaven" insert

Omega!Myka

Bering/Wells kink AU

Bering & Wells ANR

Bering/Wells San Junipero D/s

Bering/Wells Greek mythology

Helena + Myka in waistcoats

5. (It Is So Much Harder To Live For Love Than To Die For It) *

Bering and Well Dawnguard Scene Outline **

Bering/Wells Pete and Amanda's bachelor/ette party ****

Bering & Wells Dawnguard Vol. 2 **

Bering & Wells Dawnguard Vol. 3 **

B&W Dawnguard Scenes/Scraps **

Bering and Wells Oblivion

Ophelia's Secret

14. Words Pierce Where Cupid's Arrow Missed *

8. Not Like That *

6. Now Survival Is Her Middle Name *

9. Never Again *

11. And Her Bruised Heart Shatters *

10. But Stone Meets Fire and Ice Meets Steel *

Bering/Wells Myka figures out she's bi

Bering & Wells bike shop AU

12. Just One More Time *

13. (How Many Times More?) *

Bering/Wells College AU

Bering/Wells High School

Helena "Running"/Memory by Kane Brown

Ghost Helena/Myka

Bering/Wells Consideration

Bering/Wells Letters

Bering and Wells Aftermath

DJane HG

Knight Myka/Sorceress Helena

Bering and Wells Secret Santa

Doctor Who

Nine/Ten one night stand (E)

A Fobwatch and a Sapphire-Studded Choker Vol. 3 ******

A Fobwatch and a Sapphire-Studded Choker Story Scraps ******

Rose/Doctor Beauty & Beast

Rose/trans!fem!Doctor

Nine/Rose Ballroom

Nine/Rose angst kiss

Doctor/Rose stranded (C's Christmas fic)

Nine/Rose Road Trip

Nine/Rose one-sided

How To Play Matchmaker for One (1) Idiot Time Lord

Werewolf!Bill x Holly

Rose as Fobwatched Time Lady

C's Birthday Banquet Fic

Fem!Ten/Rose New Year's Eve

Dom!Rose Wall Sex

Sanctuary

Kate/Helen Vampire *****

Helen x Nikolija

Afina/Helen Attempt 3 ***

Helen/Afina noncon v2 ***

Helen/Afina noncon ***

Helen/Kate for J *****

Helen/Kate/Kali (Server Spider Kink)

When the Blurred Line Breaks

Teslen vampire/hunter

Teslen Porn Star AU

Adolescence of a Mongrel Vampire (Graphic)

A Mermaid's Siren

Helen/Kate Vampire v1 *****

Teslen arranged marriage

Teslen tenderness & communication

Dancer Teslen

Helen/Nikola ecouterism

Sanctuary CYOA snippets

Sally x Kate (x Helen)

Sanctuary Soulmarks

Helen x Sally

Nikolija x Helen Magoi History

Teslen Letters During Exile

Star Trek

"Wild Frontier" Seven/B'Elanna

Queen/Knight Seven/B'Elanna

B7 Home

B/7 Heaven's Vault AU

Kirezri Post-Canon

B'Elanna x Seven New Year's Kiss

Superfluous Adornments (B7)

Lenara/Jadzia Aftermath

Human Emotions

B/7 Drunk "Came Here To Forget"

J7 Mentor Affection

B/7 Pride & Prejudice

B/7 BDSM

Video Games (with Original Characters as Protagonists)

Tearing Her Apart (in all the best ways) (Nerium x Fiana)

CharrRP Profiles *********

Charracter Roster *********

Amata'jah

Poisoner, Physician, Hist-Child, Dovahkiin: A Study in Apparent Contradictions

The Nature of Betrayal

Vesuvia's Story

ESO RP Char Profiles

Other Fandoms

Liberty's Secret Wedding Night

Sam/fem!Jack "Sir" angst locker room smut

Fem!Jack/Sam "Tin Man"

Fem!Jack/Sam

Villaneve Soulmarks ********

Villaneve Soulmarks Post S3 ********

Rhulana/Gladys Camp/Wound Care

Plague Tale Aftermath

Sheila/Ann Worship

Gwen/Morgana post Arthur's kiss

Alyanette vampire/hunter AU

Rena Rouge, On Her Own Terms

Stahma/Kenya

Teenage Aliya/Oroi

Her Own Heart's Poison, Barranyi's Gift

Safe Lack of Distance

Kibbs unintended confession

Catalyst

Jane Maura Almost-Kiss

Original Work/Original Characters/Other

Flash Fairy Tales Retold

B&W Author Questionnaire

Between Life and Death *******

Nuryeh x Kaliva *******

Kel'Reth arranged marriage *******

Nuryeh x Kaliva Story *******

Kel'Reth Saga *******

Zir'Rethi Temple Librarian *******

The Long Fall into Heaven

Dratschi mating rituals *******

Sci-Fi Romance Sel'thiak

Neytari/Melanie scrap

One Last Dance

Nerekhi x Viyera Letters *******

The Scent of Magic Snippets *******

Snake love story

I tried to denote different docs that belong to the same general work/universe via asterisks, at first, but at some point its accuracy is questionable. :P

(Okay, there's more, but I have to come to some kind of stopping point. I think once I come to documents I haven't actually opened in like four and a half years, where I have to check what the title actually means and whether or not I've published them… I think I can safely call those "in hibernation" and not really "WIP"s at that point… :P)

No pressure, but I'd love to know about @tinknevertalks and @ladyelysandra, and anyone else who wants to do this!