#imagine a world where dogs can chase balls all day

[spacealligator]

Kakashi Ninken Sage?

So, we know that you can become a sage when you train under your summons, and that they even have their own worlds where they live:

Frogs/toads -> Mount Myōboku

Slugs -> Shikkotsu Forest

Snakes -> Ryūchi Cave

(yes I had to use Narutopedia to get these names correct)

This implies that every summon has its own world and their own way of training shinobi into sages, like Gai's turtle, Itachi and Shisui's crows, Temari's Kamatari (a personal favourite of mine) AND Kakashi's dogs!

How do you think it's the world of ninken? They are summons, and not trainned dogs like the Inuzukas use (even if Tsume's Kuromaru can talk for some reason) so surely they have a dog world of their own and could train Kakashi into a dog sage which would be so cool

[lychgate]

I am begging for more explanation about the Rex-gets-his-balls-cut-off AU

oh MAN its a few years old and very heavy themes but the summary of that part is that in this au post 66 Rex fallen way off da wagon and goes from shitty job to shittier job until he's getting traded around doing slave labor and one of the slavers he ends up with castrates their workers and then he got p feeble and weaker until he was basically a rat in a box and- oh yeah this is an au where Fives doesn't DIE because we all have one of those, so instead of being shot Fives is instead chased off world by some Corrie guards and his ship is shot down on a very remote planet/the reports labeled him then as deceased and Rex took that shit at face value (stupid) but it leaves a Fives stranded at the end of the war with that crucial information for the Republic that by the time he gets off world unfortunately is too late, we fast forward several years into Empire era where this AU begins, where Fives has made a (crappy) living off of bounty hunting and has a small task to put some feral critter out of it's misery and that feces covered mal fed creacher is REX and Fives actually hates him a lot at this point because he'd been mentally imagining Rex all these years as the visual epicenter of his blame for why all this Empire shit happened since he feels like he never listened to him back on Coruscant years ago. (he looked like this wet sock at about this point):

but u know now that he has the easiest opportunity to kill him it's literally so fucking pathetic looking that he can't so he like takes Rex on his ship to start fixing him up and taking care of him but it's more like when ur neighbor forces some old dying sick dog on u and u don't even like dogs but u had no choice so u just glare at the thing every day as it lays in ur house pooping on ur carpet and throwing up it's dinner every night. I only ever got crappy little doodles made of some sequences it's just a fun AU to poke around in but here's some when he initially brought Rex onboard and bro was just head to toe caked in dirt and scabs

ITS A REALLY metaphorical punching bag diary page like AU but it slowly deals with two WAY mentally fucked up people, who are approaching their issues at opposite ends of the stick, where Fives feels like he's been cheated out of a revenge kill, and Rex feels so pathetic and indebted to Fives that he's asking to be killed by Fives about every 35 minutes on his ship.

so yea doodles like these were made when he was like half a year into recovery, trying to gain some weight back, medically taking hormones to make up for his MISSING BALLS and just regrow some hairs, attempted recovery to atrophied muscles, and other bummer things like keeping radios on all the time so he can hear and keep track of surviving clones in the Empire for no significant advantage other then to know which ones are still alive and junk. IT DOES GET BETTER they do work to become close again but not without a lot of bumpy roads cause neither of them are healthy

[agardenandlibrary]

The Shadow Rising: chapters 54-58

[can you believe meme]

Let me say upfront that I enjoyed this one. Rated on things I enjoy:

Aiel: 10/10 delicious content. We’re in the Wastes. We’re in the sietches. We’re in the history back to the Age of Legends!

Wolfbrother shenanigans: solid 7/10. Not nearly enough wolves, but Perrin isn’t being as squirrely about the dreaming as he could be.

Girls causing problems: 10/10. Wreak havoc, girlies. Elayne and Nynaeve starting a riot. Elayne kidnapping the ruler of the city and making her do chores to learn some humility. The Black Ajah destroying the whole palace in Tanchico? I support women’s wrongs.

Let’s get this show on the road.

First, let’s resolve the Two Rivers storyline. We left off with Perrin sending Faile away. The Emond’s Field folk are bracing for another huge Trolloc attack and this time they’re expecting to die, basically. Perrin pushes for the Whitecloaks to help, promising to surrender to them after the battle if they do. Spoiler alert: they do not.

Faile returns with help from the other towns in the Two Rivers just in time to save the day. She’s like, “Look, you can be mad at me, but I’m not sorry.” Perrin and the rest of the Two Rivers folk send the Whitecloaks off.

Footnote: Padan Fain, who has corrupted a group of Whitecloaks and a Fade and has been perpetrating half the attacks on the villages, also bails at this point. Cue evil laughter. He’s still trying to hunt down Rand and get back the evil dagger Mat had.

Now in Tanchico. Nynaeve and Elayne start a riot, kidnap (but mostly rescue) the Pentarch of Tanchico. Nynaeve fights Moghedien and wins with the power of punching people in the face. She also gets the a’dam (look, that’s not technically what it’s called, but it’s the same idea and the closest similar item, so that’s what I’m calling it) and one of the seals on the Dark One’s prison while she’s at it. They escape. Elayne puts the Pentarch to doing chores and after trying and failing to destroy the a’dam, they charge Bayle Domon with dropping it into the deepest part of the ocean he knows. Well. It’s worth a shot. But I can’t imagine we’ve seen the last of that.

And in the Wastes, Rand makes it to the Golden Corral (Aiel meeting place) pretty much just in time. Someone else declares himself He Who Comes With the Dawn (and also has the supposedly unduplicatable marking).

In the style of Qui-Gon Jinn saying “there’s always a bigger fish”: There’s always another Dragon.

The Aiel split over this, as one might expect. But Rand is a little preoccupied because Lanfear and Asmodean have been disguised amongst the peddlers. Rand chases Asmodean to Rhuidean, where they fight over one of the control rods for a huge angreal, Rand cuts Asmodean off from the Dark One, and they destroy the fog protecting Rhuidean and also on accident bring a lake up to the surface nearby. Rand’s going to use Asmodean to teach him how to channel, which I’m sure will go well and have no consequences whatsoever.

And that’s the end!

Additional thoughts: Rand reminds me of our new dog Ahsoka, who is so big and does her best not to knock stuff over but is also a heckin stout lass and doesn’t quite know what she’s doing with her body. Basically, he keeps knocking stuff over and regretting it deeply.

The relationship stuff continues to be exactly the same. Given what Jordan’s doing with the men vs women of it all, I can Watsonian argue myself around to being less annoyed with it. Like, 3000 years of women channelers being the wizard popes and male channelers being wrecking balls/might destroy the world, I can see how a society would internalize that in a lot of weird ways.

If you read this far, bless you, see you next time

[theindependentfox]

Labour in reverse

It's Wednesday.

6:30pm tonight will mark the end of day three in detox. I stare into the sun, feeling the cold pavers under the balls of my feet and seaweed between my toes. There's sand on my laptop - I don't care. Peppermint floats into my olfactory senses; I'm starting to get my smell back. My mind overflows with thoughts, but it's a little easier to organise them now, to focus on them. Birds chirp. I stare into the sun. I'm surrounded by surfboards, festoon lights and whitewashed furniture. There are flannelette sheets on my bed, blinds that block out the daylight, pillows that make me feel like a Queen. Family photos line the walls, flowers and fruit trees line the veranda. When I sit outside, all I can hear is the wind, the house creaking in the salty air, and the birds serenading one another.

It's like I've rediscovered the world.

I'm sad that I gave it up for so long.

I've tried to write. When I looked at my drafts today, I had scattered bits and pieces everywhere, not unlike how I felt as a person. My jittery finger's kept jumping all over the keyboard. I had to keep backspacing my mistakes and typing out the smallest thought took longer than I care to admit.

When a woman is in labour, her symptoms amplify as time goes on, until it finishes with the birth of a child. I tried to think of my experience detoxing as labour in reverse. Honestly, knowing that my current stage was worse than what was to come was the only thing that motivated me to stay calm and ride the waves.

I've had two and a half days of haziness, pain, binge eating and very low-energy thinking processes. I've lost parts of my vision, being unable to focus on anything in my sight. I felt like my eyes shook in their sockets and rolled around in the back of my head. My hearing wasn't much better. I would go deaf mid-conversation with someone. At first I thought it was because I didn't care but I soon realised my brain couldn't process what was happening. I shook and shuddered so often it was easier just to lie down. I couldn't think. My brain froze every time I tried. It literally stopped me mid-sentence. I've had a head fog the size of Uluru, crushing me further and further down into soft pillows. It throbbed when cravings came. My body twitched in ways I can only imagine looks foreign. It mostly felt like my head, and my mind kindly took moments to remind me of how Lord Voldemort twitched when he was frustrated. Awkward, involuntary, irked. My brain would freeze when it didn't know a word, then my mind reacted by being infuriated, then disappointed. Cravings came in waves of anger and sad, dark blue struggling. I couldn't cook. I had severe constipation and diarrhoea from the junk food I was binge eating but it was the only thing that held off cravings. I was so fatigued, I napped on and off the entire time.

How do you know that life sucks if everything feels good all the time? If you're escaping into a feel-good realm? You don't. That's where I got caught. When people asked me 'what do you do in your spare time?' or 'what do you do outside of work?' I couldn't give them an answer I was proud of. Because everyday, I would look up at the sky, say to myself 'thank god that's over', I would blaze up, binge eat, give my dog a half-hearted walk and expect him to nap with me when I knew he'd already napped all day. I was wasting his time as well as mine. I felt guilty every day.

I've been thinking more about the concept of "what happened to you?". I think it's starting to make more sense, that the way I acted is a choice I made in a hard situation. I wanted to feel good at a shitty time in my life. I chased the dopamine train. It will only define me if I let it.

I've been practicing having conversations with locals in town, starting off small and leaving the interaction when I need to. My brain keeps freezing but I'm getting better. They probably just think I'm a little off, a little weird. Which isn't totally untrue. My best interaction so far was this morning. I recognised when my brain switched off. I re-directed it. I haven't been able to do that until today. A turning point.

[dreamerstreamer]

Hi!!! Can I request a dreamteam x reader where they see her as a little sister (I’m a whore for cute platonic fics what can I say) and she either gets sick or injured when they are all together somewhere(vidcon, dream + sapnaps place in florida, whatever you want). And it’s just full of protective big brother figures and fluff? Thank you sm!! Also, you can do it as a drabble, head canon, or imagine, whatever sparks inspiration or you are in the mood to write. Thank you again!!

the moment you meet the dream team

they almost immediately adopt you as one of their own

“we’re keeping her,” sapnap says the moment you disconnect from the call, his gaze firm

while george nods, clay’s lips quirk up into a fond grin. “for sure—she reminds me of my sister.”

just like that, an instant friendship is formed between the four of you

clay’s mischief kicks into overdrive when he’s around you, and he just loves to tease you

if only to watch you splutter and bury your face in your hands

“aw,” he croons between wheezes, “are you embarrassed, [y/n]?”

you whine into your headset, and he only laughs in response—you really are too cute

while he likes teasing you, he loves to dote on you more

always shipping presents off to your house with handwritten notes

together, the two of you just love to play pranks on george every chance you get

george will grumble and groan, cursing at dream while you giggle at his red cheeks, hot with embarrassment

but he’ll never get mad at you

the instant you pout at him with those puppy dog eyes, he just melts

“just—” he sighs, ruffling a hand through his hair. “—just don’t do it again, okay?”

you smile, but you never quite promise him

it’s not like he’ll yell at you, anyways

sapnap, on the other hand, loves to mess with you

if he isn’t annoying you on minecraft, he’s poking fun at you every waking second of the day

“hey, hey [y/n], hey, listen, pay attention, [y/n], hey—”

“what do you want?” you snap, frowning at him with puffed cheeks

he shoots you a cheeky grin in return, a devilish gleam flashing across his gaze. “you’re smelly.”

really, it’s like you’ve gotten three new brothers

and in a way, you have

when the four of you all finally meet for the first time

it’s an absolute mess

you oversleep and miss your flight, waking up to a barrage of missed calls from the three of them

soon enough though, you're stumbling into one airport and running out of the next

the three of them stand at the gate waiting for you, a big cardboard sign with your name scrawled across the front in messy, chunky letters

it makes you laugh, and you throw yourself into their arms, your heart swelling in your chest

the drive to the house you all rented is full of bickering and chatter, but when you ask what you guys are going to do tomorrow, the car falls silent

clay grins, his emerald eyes gleaming like stars in the rear view mirror.

“oh, just you wait and see, princess.”

the next day, you’ve got your face pressed up the car window, your lips parted in awe

of course you guys would go to disney world

not that you’re complaining or anything—especially not when clay’s the one paying

you convince them all to buy the iconic mickey mouse ears and wear them with you

and no matter how much he complains about how dumb they look, you don’t miss the way george smiles at the reflection of his ears when you pass a window

you guys are dead-set on doing the four parks challenge, pointing out every ride on the map as you travel from spot to spot

at one point, you all stop for a bathroom break, and you find yourself sitting on a park bench patiently waiting for the boys to come back

you’re flipping through the map when a gust of wind suddenly breezes past you, pushing the map out of your hands and into the open air

in a flash, you’re stumbling up from the bench and rushing through the crowd, chasing after the map

you weave in and out of waves of people, your eyes glued to the soaring page with your arm outstretched

your fingers are about to grab onto the fluttering paper when someone bumps into you from behind, sending you careening to the side

your weight comes crashing down on your ankle as you land on the ground with a thud, pain shooting through your leg and up your insides

tears spring to your eyes as you bite back a muffled whimper, rubbing at your ankle

it must be sprained, you think distantly to yourself

you look up, the crowd surrounding you almost overbearingly as you wince, pain wracking your body

where am i? where’s clay? and george, and sapnap?

you shift your foot, another pang of pain surging through you, and your watery vision blurs even more

you’re about to burst into tears when a hand grips onto your shoulder, familiar and warm

you whip around, sapnap’s concerned gaze scanning your face

behind him stand clay and george

clay’s hands are balled into tight fists at his side, fury rippling across his features

next to him, george’s usually unimpressed expression has shifted to one of pure panic, his eyes wide

“what happened to you?” he asks, his eyes dropping down to your throbbing ankle

at your side, sapnap’s hand squeezes your shoulder ever so gently. “did you sprain your ankle? how badly does it hurt? ar—”

clay cuts him off with a low voice, stormy and full of rage

“who did this?”

your eyes shoot wide open, and you shake your head at him. “it’s no biggie. i was just being dumb, then someone bumped into me.”

when clay’s eyes flash darkly, more words rush out of your mouth. “they didn’t mean to! it was an accident, i promise.”

you reach a hand up toward him, tugging at the hem of his shirt with a pleading look. “please don’t be mad.”

there’s a beat of silence, then clay sighs, shaking his head with a whisper of a smile.

“well, i guess we lost the four parks challenge then, huh?”

you offer a bashful smile as george laughs, rolling his eyes at clay. “that’s the least of our worries right now, dream. let’s just get [y/n] home safe and sound.”

sapnap gets to his feet, crouching in front of you with an easygoing smile, gesturing to his back. “hop on.”

with george’s help, you climb onto sapnap’s back, pressing your check against his shoulder with an apologetic frown, regret tugging at your lips

“sorry this trip didn’t go like we planned.”

the fingers wrapped around your left thigh tap gently against you, reassuring and firm

“don’t be so hard on yourself,” sapnap says gently

your eyelids flutter shut, and while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his voice

“we’re just happy to have you here.”

[solomonish]

Dork Solomon Agenda

You say sexy shady sorcerer I say nerd and love of my life

Solomon is a sad lonely little man why just wants a genuine connection us that so much to ask???

No but seriously like. It's totally fine if you hc Solomon as this man-turned-lowkey-sex-god with a million succubi and more at his whim whenever he wants and would be a tough one to put the ol' ball and chain on like to each their own for sure! But that's not MY hc

(Thats not to say my hc means he doesn't ever engage in casual sex like that and wanting a genuine long term relationship at some point [or finding out thats what you want when you meet someone] are not mutually exclusive yknow)

So like Solomon isn't the type to be short with you or keep you at an arm's length (i mean...u get what I mean. Once you're close enough and all that jazz) or get annoyed by you wanting to be affectionate?? Hello??

He LOVES the little things you do (some on accident tbh). You feeling affectionate today and give him a kiss or three on his face before you leave to go to your separate classes? Adorable, he's fallen in love again. You do that thing where you like.. forget how to walk straight and just accidentally bump into him? No come back he likes being close to you :( He doesn't SAY these things but there's a light, airy laugh he has that gives him away.

If you're ever facetiming he will say "boo!" when you connect instead of just. Greeting you like a normal person.

His fuckin. His devilgram name is monSOLO. My mans is a star wars fan!!! I dont know any of The Discourse bc I'm not super into star wars myself but he has IN DEPTH opinions about the movies. Seriously rivals Levi in this aspect. Please make time for movie nights where you watch the movies together 🥺 especially if you haven't seen them before he'd love to convert you 🥺

Didn't Solomon also have a thing for TSL??? Or am I just imagining it??

I feel like his ideal date would be exploring something new, whether its this new spooky forest or "hey have we been down this alley before? Let's check it out!" but ideal date number TWO is movie night. Even if it isn't Star Wars. He likes to sit on opposite ends of the couch throwing popcorn into each other's mouths (and big candies like peanut m&ms where you both have almost choked before) and maybe a footsie war if he's feeling real devious. Then at some point you grab a blanket and snuggle up to him and you both fall asleep on the couch

Simeon yells at him when you leave because there's popcorn EVERYWHERE

LOVES when you laugh super loud. Idk man he just thinks its great when you have such unbridled joy and then he laughs too 😊 not as loud though he's more of a quiet chuckle kind of guy (most of the time).

Is friends with Asmo so is extremely great at slumber party gossip. Catch him in his pajamas, cross-legged on the floor while clutching a pillow to his chest and listening intently to you rant about the brothers.

"Come here I have a secret to tell you" (blows air in your ear) "okay okay I'm sorry but come here again" (blows air on your neck) "okay okay last time! I actually have something to tell you. Please? Its important...." (kisses ur cheek) "like u a lil bit xo"

Never the type to send "good morning beautiful" or "good night 💞" texts. Instead he'll send you something at 4 am like "the infinite cosmos will eventually swallow whole all familiarity and life as it is now presently known and despite the adaptations humans or demons or angels could make i will still have to adapt and face the world as an alien in the realm I love so dearly. Funny how the strongest of beings bow to the whim of space and time. But sometimes my eternal journey doesn't seem so daunting when I realize that with my everlasting life will be the memory of you no matter how distant and the survival of the vessel you loved...."

And then at lunch that day when the brothers pull you away he'll send you a picture of the lasagna they're serving with "this kinda looks like you? Don't worry I'd still hit it" and then two minutes later "you not the pasta"

Is the type to think randomly "oh damn I love you so much" but has an impressive filter about it. Or he thinks he does until Luke grumbles "ugh get a room thats the fifth time you've seen that since monday" ok, sometimes he has a good filter about it

He can't help it! Sometimes you just say something really smart (or something SPECTACULARLY dumb) or you do something cute like lean on him or smile a specific way or-

Sir.....you're head over heels sir :/

The type who would go to a playground at night with you and just swing on the swings talking about life

Wants to have a secret handshake with you!!

If you're ever on a road trip with just the two of you, you can get him to join in on the terrible singing but he'll be a lot quieter than you

Also will only join in if he isn't driving. If he is and you aren't talking, he's just humming underneath his breath. Will drum on the steering wheel though

Cooking

(Yes, it gets its own section because MAYBE I'm obsessed with the idea of MC teaching Solomon to cook and the food still turning out terrible but at least it isn't a void when MC is helping)

The type to flick water at you every time he washes his hands. Will chase you down just to do it.

"Hey, tilt your head back and open your mouth MC" (proceeds to dump too big a handful of shredded cheese in your mouth)

100% the type to lean over you just to hinder your cooking abilities. Who cares if the sauce splashes he's tiiiired.... you'd let belphie do it :(

Puts a hand on your lower back when he passes behind you. Hopes you'll lean into it/step back and offer him a kiss 🥺

Believes in always having a proper table setting. Prepare for whatever juice they have (or water) in wine glasses if you're having a nice-er meal

Under the assumption that a spell ruined his sense of taste (and not that he's just bad at cooking) he hates spicy food. He can feel the burn but he gets none of the flavor??? Wack. Don't hurt him like that MC. If you do because its hilarious to watch him try to be cool about it he will pout

Gets cheesy aprons. He just likes them.

Will hit you on the top of your head with a whisk to hear the noise it makes

Will buy every kitchen hack tool there is. A ketchup dispenser that looks like a gun? He's got it. A fish that helps you squeeze out the egg yolks? Yes! A dinosaur soup ladle? You bet! Pizza scissors? A tool that makes hard boiled eggs into cubes? Something that's gotta be like 200 years old and no discernable purpose? Absolutely! He wants a hot dog toaster. Do they even have hot dogs in the devildom?

Will sneak bites just because it bothers you

Overall

Look at him. He hasn't had friends in centuries. He's playful!

Look at his DEVILGRAM NAME

His funky little WAND

This is a man who is a huge nerd, thrives off of cliches and just wants to have a good time. So let him! Its mentally exhausting having those pretenses up all the time.

[murfeelee]

CQL/MDZS INSP - Yiling Arc Pt2b: Demon Subduing Cave

Jiang Cheng continued, “Where's Wen Ning?”

Wei WuXian, “Why are you asking about him?”

Jiang Cheng replied coldly, “These days countless people have asked me about him, but who could I ask? Seemed like I could only come ask you.”

Wei WuXian led Jiang Cheng to the large mouth of the Demon Subduing Cave. They walked deeper into the cave. All along the path were talismans, stuck to the walls or tossed onto the ground, scrunched into balls or ripped to pieces. The deeper they went, the messier it got. Jiang Cheng felt like he was suffocating. “You live here? Where do you sleep?”

Wei WuXian answered by pointing at a crumpled pile of blankets at another corner, “With those, I can sleep anywhere.” Jiang Cheng didn't want to talk about such a thing with him any longer.

After they entered the main area of the cave, there was a person lying on the ground. From head to toe, he was covered entirely in talismans. Only a pair of eye whites could be seen from the outside. This was Wen Ning.

Looking down with condescension, Jiang Cheng examined Wen Ning, who lay motionlessly, “What happened to him?”

“He‟s a bit too fierce. I‟m worried he‟ll do something, so I sealed him up so that he can‟t move.”

“Wasn't he a shy stutterer when he was alive? How‟s he so fierce after he died?”

“Wen Ning was indeed quite a timid person. But precisely because of this, he hid all of his feelings within him. Hatred, anger, fear, anxiety, pain—these were pent-up for too long, which is why the exploded after he died. You can't even imagine how powerful they are. It‟s the same as how the more nice-tempered someone is, the scarier they are after they lose their temper. The more he was like this, the fiercer he‟d be after death.”

Jiang Cheng, “Haven‟t you always said the fiercer the better? The heavier the resentful energy is, the greater the hatred is, and the stronger the power is.”

Wei WuXian, “That‟s right. But I don‟t want to make Wen Ning into this kind of corpse.”

Jiang Cheng, “Then what do you want to make him into?”

Wei WuXian, “I want to awaken his consciousness.”

-- Mo Dao Zu Shi: Chapter 74

LONGER EXCERPT UNDER THE CUT (& MY THOUGHTS -- Jiang Cheng minirant Pt2 + Wen Ning fangirling)

Jiang Cheng sneered, “Dreaming again, aren't you? What'd be the difference between a fierce corpse like this and a human being?! If you succeeded, nobody would need to be a human and nobody would need to cultivate! They could just come to you and ask to be made into a fierce corpse!”

Wei WuXian laughed, “That‟s right. But I've already boasted about it a couple of times in front of his sister, Wen Qing. Now all of them believe that I can do it. I‟ll have to succeed--” Before he even finished, Jiang Cheng unsheathed Sandu and went straight for Wen Ning's neck. Wei WuXian struck his arm to move the direction of the sword, shouting, “What are you doing?!” His words echoed through the Demon Subduing Cave, vibrating incessantly.

Jiang Cheng refused to sheathe his sword. His voice was harsh, “What am I doing? I‟d like to ask you what you are doing. Wei WuXian?!”

Wei WuXian, “The Jin Sect’s inspectors beat Wen Ning to death; Wen Ning became a fierce corpse and killed them. A tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Don't forget: who was the one that returned to us the ashes of your parents? And who took us in when we were chased after by Wen Chao?!”

Jiang Cheng, “Yes, Wen Ning and Wen Qing helped us before, but why in the world don't you understand that right now any remnant of the Wen Sect is a target of criticism! No matter who they are, with a surname of Wen they have committed a most heinous crime! And those who protect the Wen are at risk of being condemned by everyone! All the people loathe the Wen-dogs so badly that the worse they die the better. Whoever protects them is against the entire world! Nobody would speak for them, and nobody would speak for you either! Don't you know how many eyes are watching you right now? How many are watching your Stygian Tiger Seal? If this opportunity is in their hands, you wouldn't be in the right, even if you are! Wei WuXian! Don‟t you understand? When you‟re standing on their side, you‟re the bizarre genius, the miraculous hero, the force of the Sunshot Rebellion, the flower that blooms alone. But the second your voice differs from theirs, you've lost your mind, you've ignored morality, you've walked the crooked path! You think you can be immune to all those condemnations as you stay outside of the world and do whatever you want? No such precedent has happened before!”

Wei WuXian shouted, “If there‟s been no precedent, then I'll be the precedent!”

Swords unsheathed, the two stared at each other for a while. Neither was willing to take a single step back.

A while later, Jiang Cheng spoke, “Wei WuXian, have you still not realized what the situation at hand is like? Do you really need me to say it out loud? If you insist on protecting the Wen, then I won‟t be able to protect you!”

Wei WuXian, “There‟s no need to protect me. Just let go.” Jiang Cheng's face twisted. “Just let go. Tell the world that I defected. From now on, no matter what Wei WuXian does, it'd have nothing to do with the YunmengJiang Sect.”

-- Mo Dao Zu Shi: Chapter 74

______________________________________________

MY THOUGHTS

Wei WuXian is the main character/protagonist of the story, but I think the two heroes are actually Lan WangJi (Hanguang-Jun) and Wen Ning (the Ghost General). The evil villains are the the Jin Sect (god they’re awful!), but the actual antagonist/foil/rival is Jiang Cheng.

I mean, THIS POOR BABY.

Jiang Cheng was like: “Eff all those Wen dogs, WWX; all I care about is you being safe--leave them in a ditch to die and come home already!” He just missed his big brother, and having his family together.

After everything that ends up happening (and it’s A LOT, jfc), JC just wanted to wish WWX well, and tell him one thing:

But Wei WuXian made a promise, and he’s got waaaay more integrity & loyalty & honor than the entire Cultivation world combined. Leave no man behind!

But Jiang Cheng saw WWX protecting the Wen refugees as a betrayal to the Jiang Sect and to himself as WWX’s baby brother, to the point that he was jealous of everyone WWX held close--particularly Lan WangJi--

--and especially Wen Ning (the ultimate betrayal, in JC’s eyes)

--All the while being totally unaware that WWX loved his baby brother Jiang Cheng (and of course Pork Rib Lotus Soup goddess Jiang Yanli) more than everybody in this whole dang story!

(^^^ The Golden Core/Suibian scene is my EFFING FAVORITE!!! GO WEN NING, for not taking JC’s bullcrap, and setting ALL the facts straight!! ^0^)

Like, don’t get me wrong, I truly sympathize with JC, I do! But I just cannot forgive him for how he treated Wen Ning, and I ESPECIALLY cannot tolerate how JC raised Jin Ling. But more on that later. O_O

[miyagihawk]

Could you do a Hawk x reader imagine where you vs him at volleyball on the beach 🥺👉👈

THIS IS CUTE thank you for the request <3

beach day! | eli “hawk” moskowitz x reader

warnings: swearing, mainly fluff, not much of a plot tbh

summary: you spend a cute day at the beach with your boyfriend hawk and his friends (set after season 3, so everyone is cool with each other)

word count: 1,146

Your phone dings and you pick it up from where it lays on your bed.

“I’m outside” the text reads, and you hurriedly grab all your things before heading out your front door.

Today you were going to the beach with your boyfriend and his friends and you’re really excited. You haven’t been to the beach in forever, and you haven’t really gotten the chance to hang out with Hawk’s friends. You’ve met them, but you never got to talk to them for long with Hawk pulling you away to make out.

You grin when you see him waiting in the driver’s seat of his beloved Jeep. All the windows are down and he gives you a nod when he meets your eyes. You get into the passengers, reaching over the seat to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you greet, admiring how his biceps look in a tank top.

“You just got here and you’re already checking me out?” Hawk teases as he starts the engine and pulls out of your driveway.

You blush and turn your eyes to the road. “You just look good, that’s all.”

You don’t see, but his cheeks also tint pink. “Well you look hot and if I wasn’t driving I’d be checking you out too,” he muses, playing off the fact that your compliment didn’t just give him butterflies.

Your heart jumps when he grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers, giving it a kiss.

The pacific coast highway is your favorite place to drive by. The ambience of the palm trees, the pretty houses, and the surfers is just perfect, and you wonder if anyone could ever be unhappy living in Malibu.

As you sing along and dance to a song on the radio, Hawk sneaks little glances at you as he drives. You do notice, but you just pretend you don’t.

He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, with the wind from the windows making your hair fly everywhere. How the sun in your eyes made them lighter than usual. How you get the lyrics wrong, but you’re shameless about it and you sing even louder. The way you smile at him when you catch him looking at you and the excitement you get when you point out the cute dogs on the street.

He loves you so fucking much and he could watch you for forever. He wishes he could.

-

“I’ll take Y/N,” Miguel smirks, and you roll your eyes at the game he’s trying to play.

“I hate you so much,” Hawk hurls the ball at him, but Miguel ducks out of the way.

You guys are playing volleyball and they’re the “team captains” picking who they want on their teams.

“Fine, Sam’s with me. Since you took my girl I’m taking yours,” your boyfriend taunts at his best friend.

“She’s not my-”

“Shut up, just pick someone.”

The sun’s rays feel good on your skin as you guys passed the volleyball over the net, making your cheeks rosy and sunkissed. You’re starting to warm up to Hawk’s friends, and they’re all really just a bunch of sweethearts. They make you feel like a kid again with their banter, and it’s refreshing.

You can’t seem to look away from your boyfriend during the game, and sometimes your team groans when you miss the ball because you’re too busy drooling over him. But you can’t help it; his shirt is off and his abs are crafted by the gods. His competitiveness, even in beach volleyball, made you melt.

“Mine!” you call, and jump to hit the ball that Demetri set you, downwards to the other side. It was a hard hit, and you feel proud of yourself for it.

But apparently, it was unexpected, and it landed straight at your lover’s head before he could react.

You cover your open mouth with your hands in shock, trying to stifle the laughs that wanted to escape.

“Y/N, I think you’d better run,” Miguel laughs.

Your boyfriend looks at you with a playful glare, walking to bend under the net to get over to your side.

You scream in fright when he starts walking faster towards you, and you run away towards the ocean.

“I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!” you giggle out of breath, looking behind you to see him still chasing you, with no intent of stopping.

You realize there’s no way you can outrun him and you’re already tired, so you stop to catch your breath. Unfortunately his karate training gives him an advantage.

Once he reaches you, he picks you up with his arms around your waist and you squeal in surprise. He throws you over his shoulder so your head hangs down and your view of the world is flipped. You try to wriggle out, but his hold on you is too tight as he walks towards the shore.

“No no no! Don’t you dare!” you yell, seeing his feet start to dip into the sea. He starts to swing you back and forth to gain momentum, until he lets go. You’re in midair for a moment, then you hit the frigid saltwater and go underneath the tide.

You hear his muffled laughing from underwater and you see the distorted shape of his face and red hair. He sounds so happy.

You finally lift up your head to the surface to breathe and quickly jump on him before he can even think.

You both go under this time, and your arms are wrapped around his neck. There’s a moment of serenity; only the sound of the moving tide between you two as you look at each other with saltwater eyes. You stick out your tongue at him and he lets out a bubble of laughs before holding onto you and pulling you both back up for air.

“Look what you did,” Hawk smiles at you, still holding you close. You’re cold from the water but his warmth keeps you from shivering.

He looks really pretty. The freckles on his cheekbones are more apparent from the sun’s love and his eyelashes are darker from being wet. Your favorite shade of blue, his eyes, match the water below you, reflecting the image of your face.

“Me? You threw me in first,” you argue, but you can’t really focus on what you’re saying because his prettiness is too much to handle.

“Only because you hit me in the face!” He laughs, squeezing your sides and making you squirm.

“Maybe you should’ve been been paying attention! But then again, I’m just too good,” you sigh playfully, and he squeezes you again, this time making you push away from him.

“Your beauty was just so distracting,” Hawk grins, pulling you back to his chest. He starts pressing kisses all over your face, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

It’s a perfect day.

a/n: so cuuute right! maybe a little cheesy but i luv it. im catching up on requests yayyy feel free to send me any feedback and more requests!

[archetypal-archivist]

Grian- Boots for the Rain Gone Cold

Kind of a story idea for Ex-Watcher Grian, 3500+ words. This is what happens when you listen to the song Welly Boots on repeat for a couple hours. The premise is that Grian and the Hermits aren’t quite as nice as they seem, and when Grian has to flee Hermitcraft to keep his friends safe from the Watchers, his friends do some malicious compliance to take care of him while he is away.

------

A story in which the hermits take care of their own, even beyond borders they should not be able to cross.

Take a standard story about Watcher Grian. See him come to Hermitcraft, lost and alone and afraid. He has been through Evo, killed a dragon whilst alone and afraid, was taken against his will, watched his friends Pearlescent Moon and Taurtis die. He knows how to take care of himself, but nothing more than that.

Hermitcraft changes that, for him. Standing outside a portal that is unlike any he had ever seen, even during his time as a watcher, seeing a team of 20+ walk out is terrifying. But they had seen him, looked at each other, then rushed forward to claim him as their own. In the beginning he is left alone until he tentatively reaches out, saving Scar's stuff after he has died. An action unlike him, but he had appreciated their kindness in letting him stay, so he does his best to repay that.

Tit for tat is something he understands from the Watchers, even if this is a kinder variant.

Grian watches as people start to reach out to him, watching him with admiring eyes as he builds his first shops, offering items he's never needed or touched before now. (Conduits are so cool and he'll deny the shiver of excitement that crept up his spine when Xisuma first handed him one to his dying breath.) He watches as they smile and laugh at his antics, rather than come at him and his with sword and shield for his pranks.

He watches. He is good at that. He is significantly less good at returning their kindness, a trouble-maker to his core, intentionally or no. But he tries, and in the eyes of the Hermits, that is all that matters.

Iskall feeds him, sometimes, when he is sick and delirious, screaming at the shadows in the corners. They do not let him starve himself to death. (He learns to hide half stacks of golden carrots in their chests, just enough to replenish their supply, but not enough that they'd notice.)

Mumbo is patient with him when he comes crashing into his base like a wrecking ball, sometimes plowing into the taller hermit's redstone face first in the process. He just helps Grian up, smiling and laughing, helping him brush the red dust away. (Grian learns that Mumbo cannot sleep without noise, too used to the ticking of redstone clocks and firing pistons to sleep in quiet. He learns to fly in on late nights when Mumbo's base is still lit up and talk with his friend, chattering away until Mumbo can find it in himself to turn the lag machines off and fall asleep to the sound of Grian's voice.)

Xisuma watches the world with all the focus and patience that Grian once used when designing stars and bedrock towers. For Xisuma, Grian will watch the world too and ease its updates when he can- one less burden for his admin to carry, taken and handled with silent, secret grace.

Joe reads and reads and reads, spinning tales of his finds to all who stand still long enough for him to pin down for a bit. For Joe, Grian will bring out some of his old high school textbooks for him on the days when the man runs out of books to read.

Zedaph lives in a cave, warm and dry, but without color, the only life being the experiments rattling around in the background. For Zedaph, Grian will sneak in mushrooms and moss, encouraging them to grow in the shadows until the cavern blooms with them.

For the hermits, Grian is kind. For the hermits, Grian will learn.

Then one day it all comes crashing down, perhaps in the face of a bedrock tower springing from nowhere, perhaps in violent, screaming outburst of purple fire, perhaps in the face of a friend he once thought dead. The Watchers had tried their damnest to stamp out his heart and they nearly succeeded, but just as they could not stamp out his free will they also could not stamp out his humanity, and people- regardless of shape or size or color or race or species- are born to love and be loved.

Grian loves his Hermits. To protect them, he must leave. And so he does, quietly and in the dead of night, the faint echoes of screams ringing in his ears. If he has it his way, never again will he hear his hermit's pain, imagined or otherwise. It would be best to just forget.

Grian settles in a rainy little single player server that turns out to not be as single player as he would like. It seems instead to be an abandoned multiplayer server, lost dogs and empty houses abound in the distant corners, and every once in a while a new player stumbles in, running from something, settling in long enough to call the server home. Sometimes, these new players stay. Sometimes, whatever is chasing them catches up and they are forced to leave. Grian refuses to care for these fellow vagabonds, even as he watches from under the eaves of his perfectly constructed rustic house, rain dripping down and obscuring him from their wondering, pained eyes.

Grian has given up on having happy ending, and if the ending the narrative seems to want to give him is a tragedy, then he will seize it with both hands and rewrite it himself. What he does not take into account, however, is that the Hermits don't take kindly to being abandoned.

Grian was once a Watcher, and while watching and mimicking are perhaps some of his better skills, he was still new to the server and as such there is much about his Hermits he never had a chance to discover. Their pasts in large part remained a mystery to him, as he had learned to mimic kindness too well from them to ever pry. (They would have told him, if he had asked. Love was another thing he had learned from them, and if he had been seen and not just watched, he perhaps would have noticed how strongly they cared for him too.)

But yes. Though Grian was perhaps the only one of their number on the run from literal gods, he was not the only one with a tragic back story.

Xisuma, who watched the Hermitcraft server with all the vigilance of a soldier who had watched his fellow troops and their enemies weaponize glitches against each other, to the mass extinction of both. Evil X, who ran from it all, only to end up in a place where nothing violent simply became nothing.

Joe, who read and read and read, devouring knowledge the way he once devoured worlds, eyes flickering white on the nights when hunger panged in his stomach worse than usual. Cleo, who also knew the pain of consumption, from both sides of teeth like knives.

Zedaph, who popped into existence one day, whole and unsullied, with a vast, empty void where his past ought to be, who forgot sometimes that people are supposed to have likes and dislikes and colors and an instinctual obedience towards the laws of gravity. Tango and Impulse, who watched their friend and each other with eagle eyes to keep their trio from slipping back into old, self-destructive habits. (Overwork, overclocking, over-stimulation. All were equally killer.)

Grian, who's first and best skill, even before his building, was causing mischief and creating fun. A welcome distraction from old pains.

They loved him, the Hermits. In whatever flavor they chose, they loved him. They knew his darkness, though perhaps not the exact nature of it, and they knew that he loved them back. And then he left them.

The Hermits were powerful with love and sorrow and determination. Grian thought he could leave them so quickly, uproot himself from their hearts like a ghost in the night? Ha.

As. If.

It begins like this- Grian wakes in his little spruce house in the middle of a mostly abandoned town. The rain is pouring outside as it nearly always is and the rushing of wind through the trees puts him in the mind of his old ship-in-a-bottle base, warm and safe from the wet outside. He wakes up, stretches, thinks of eating. Steps outside and-

a brand new pair of bright red rain boots, almost glowing in the grey mist of early morning. They are in his colors, Grian just knows they would fit him perfectly. A welcome sort of gift, perfect for a world drenched in rain. Perfect for him, gifted with thought, with care. His stomach curdles and he just knows he won't be eating breakfast today either. A curl of a finger and the boots go up in purple flames, the scent of burnt rubber joining the petrichor of the air. He goes back inside. Goes back to sleep. Tries not to dream.

The boots are back the next day, shining red and a little closer to the door to better keep them out of the rain. He burns those too.

The boots keep appearing. Always bright red, always perfectly sized to fit him- squeaky new rubber, perfect for keeping out the rain. In the face of that, red boots like clockwork, is it any wonder that Grian gets tired? His front porch stinks of burnt rubber and there are new planks wherever he had to remove the scorched oak. Perhaps it's the burning that causes a new pair to appear- if there are no boots, a new pair comes to replace them, so perhaps a different method of disposal is in order.

He throws the next pair into the river. A new pair comes back to him the next day, alongside the old ones, dripping with sea grass and mud. Hmm.

(Cleo has friends in the rivers and oceans. It's easy enough to call in a favor or three to get the boots returned.)

Creepers next. A loud hiss and an even louder boom has him flinching back, phantom burns dancing across his fingers, but the boots are naught but ash. Three pairs of boots next time, one of them a dark swirling grey rather than the traditional red, as if mocking their scorched past.

(Doc's work. He's had enough experience with accidentally blowing up his own tools to know how to make a blast protection charm strong enough to keep his clothes and armor safe in the case of an unfortunate accident. The grey starbursts left over the material are just a neat bonus.)

Lava. Concentrated spider venom. Flattened by pistons. Dropped into the void. Left under a lightning rod. Thrown up into a tree. Fed to a guardian.

Each and every time, the boots come back, usually with some change in pattern, color, or marking that signals just what they have been through. All in perfectly usual condition, even the pair he cut in half with an axe.

(Stress had a field day piecing that pair back together, using molten honey and mending enchants to stick the halves together again. She always had loved a challenge.)

Eventually, Grian's front porch is covered in boots in all manner of designs, and fed up with the mess, he sets the whole mess on fire again with his signature purple flame, the only thing sure to reduce the number of boots permanently. He sets his house on fire in the process. Hmmmm.

There's an influx of new people into Grian's world all of a sudden. A pair of twins jump in, bloody, battered, and exhausted, and not a week later a roughed-up blond boy joins, snappish and hurting. All three lack shoes.

Now, Grian very firmly does not want to interact with any of them. He had found true friends among the Hermits and if he can't interact with them, then he certainly doesn't want to interact with a trio of traumatized children- however, he does have a pair of boots to give and dropping them on the children's doorstep requires no interaction at all. The female twin puts them on, marveling at how big the red boots are on her while the other kids stand watch suspiciously. Grian watches this from his front porch, hidden by the mist but eyes glinting purple in the gloom so he can see comfortably. The male twin seems to spot this, shouting and pointing, and Grian goes back inside to avoid the mess.

The next morning, the boots on his doorstep are rainbow-striped and several sizes smaller, perfect for a child's feet. Grian stares down at them, something hurting and tremulous in his heart, but his face remains blank. These boots are placed on the trio's doorstep as well. The male twin wears these, and the last child ends up with a pair of blue and black spotted ones.

(False had had fun with the patterns, feeling a little bit of relief that she could hunt down some rubber in a pattern other than plain red.)

Rumor spreads of a purple-eyed monster in the woods that gave people boots to keep them safe from the rain, although Grian very carefully avoids such stories. The children begin leaving trinkets for their monster in hopes to repay him, and Grian ignores these too until one day, the children somehow manage to get an old red dog collar to give him. Upon spotting this, Grian's heart gives a squeeze as it reminds him of Rendog, and he pockets it to put on his rather empty bookshelf. Other things also get picked up, all things that remind him of the friends he had to leave behind.

An allium, pressed into a book of galactic picked up from a stronghold. A jar of electric blue ink dried into a gelatinous cake. A tiny knight figurine, scuffed and missing an arm. A handful of spicy red jellybeans. Eventually, as time passes on and on and the rain bears down harder on Grian's tiny world, a trio of heartfelt, thankful cards appear on his kitchen table, all three drawn in crayon and filled with cheerful scribbles.

It rains harder, and the world shrinks down to just Grian and the three children who call out into the gloom every morning, grateful for the boots and the glimpses of purple eyes and feathered wings in the dark that tell them that they are not alone. The boots stop coming.

In their place, new things appear.

A toaster. Firewood. New sweaters and combs and soap. Little things designed to make life easier, many of them children-sized or painted in rainbow stripes or blue polka dots or a shade of red just off from Grian's favored color. These too go to the children, and the number of gifts Grian receives increases, many of them built from the material that he gives the trio of children.

(If the Hermits cannot gift things to Grian directly, then they will gift them to people who will transform them into something their wayward friend would accept. They do so with equal parts love and spite, angry to have been rebuffed but unwilling to let Grian feel himself forgotten. The trio of kids end up with a rather odd assortment of things. Tango, for example, is fond of the easy-bake oven he sent them that always burnt the food it made. Grian got nothing but his favorite chocolate chip cookies for a week, all of them scorched.)

In time, Grian does his best to drive the children off, building traps and leaving weapons on their doorstep to scare them. The stories of the monster in the woods increase in number and many more children join the server, encouraged by tales of purple-eyed, winged beast that taught its charges to be wary and gave them tools to defend themselves. Grian's cabin remains hidden in the mist, but many more wooden structures join it in the forest.

New boots appear on his doorstep. They aren't made to fit him.

(His heart aches, but his eyes remain dry. Morning dew condenses on Grian's cheeks.)

It comes to a head like this- no world, no matter how small or safe, is fully protected from the Watchers' gaze, and in the end, they find him. Only now, there are people here that cannot leave, that Grian cannot leave behind.

The children scream for their monster to save them. He rises from the mist, eyes heavy and wings heavier, dragging upon the ground and leaving trails in the brick red mud. They think they are saved. They are wrong.

Chains shoot out from the mist, forcing Grian to his knees as a huge female Watcher, Astrid, stares down at him, mouth turned down into a tiny frown and the rest of her figure still as stone even as she floats in the air, white robes fading into the surrounding fog. The purple emblem on her mask glows like a brand. Grian watches her with purple eyes glowing dim and dull, resigned to his fate but unwilling to flee if it means the deaths of those who do not deserve to serve his sentence in his stead.

He thinks, quietly, that he will die here. He wonders if this- any of this- is worth it. He thinks, yes. Yes it is.

He is wrong.

A figure coalesces before him, clad in yellow armor and arms crossed, the very picture of annoyed defiance. It tilts its head back, hard light construct featureless but practically radiating scorn, and from the mists a voice echoes.

"You are going to leave him alone. He's not for you." Astrid hisses behind her mask, galactic crackling and vile from between her lips, and the sound of wingbeats thrums like a heartbeat through the clearing, bass-heavy and loud in Grian's ears. He winces, closing his eyes as more chains shoot out from the ground to attach to Xisuma's- for what else could it be but his admin projected across time and space (that stupid, crazy, wonderful man)- construct. They coil around it, doing their level best to drag it to the ground, but the figure remains still and hovering before Grian, entirely unmoved.

"No. You will leave him alone." Xisuma's voice again, commanding and stern even from a figure that looks more like a glowing yellow armor stand. "I'll ask that you don't test me, it took a while to put this projection together and it will not dissipate until it fulfills its intended purpose." Astrid merely hisses again, this time with an underlay of static beneath it, and Grian's wings are suddenly pulled back tight and away from his shoulders- all three pairs of them, not merely those he prefers to wear.

The sound of flesh and feathers ripping through one plane and into the next has Grian feeling sick. Wrong, his mind repeats on loop, screaming. Wrong wrong wrong. Xisuma's figure freezes at his pained squeak before unfolding its arms and going carefully still. It tilts its head to the side, considering and cold.

"Is that your game? You do realize that that is death sentence, right? We would never let you survive it." Astrid nods. The chains rise up again, clinking softly as they loop once, twice, three times around Grian's outermost pair of wings, the ones most used to the physical plane and with the most nerve endings besides. The damp air is cold and aching in his lungs.

A rip. A scream. And then everything shrinks down to a flicker of brilliant yellow light, the shrilling of broken violins, and the long, drawn-out death wail of a Watcher unused to pain. A computer crash in slow motion complete with a harsh base note as Astrid's wings fall to join Grian's in the mud.

The world expands again, overwhelming. Agony. Silence.

Chains clink to the floor, broken, as Xisuma's hard light construct comes forward to stand before the Hermits' erstwhile server mate, slumped over in a pool of blood but conscious, something in his purple eyes bent, if not a little broken.

A voice, hoarse, achingly loud in the quiet of the glade. "You didn't stop her."

"No."

"...Is this my punishment then?" A moment of quiet and then the figure stoops down to gather Grian into its arms, its featureless gaze doing little to ease his fear.

Then, gently, ".....No."

Grian slumps, the last bit of tension seeping from his limbs as the pain in his back begins to register, sapping at his will and leeching into his voice.

"I'm sorry, you know. I- I'm sorry. I didn't want to go. It just- it hurts. Hels it hurts, so much. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I know. I know." Xisuma's figure stands up, hoisting Grian a little higher up against its chest so that hiss remaining wings don't drag on the ground quite as much, then turning to face the cowering children. Eventually, a little girl in bright red rain boots stands up to meet its gaze.

She blinks back tears, scrubbing at her face to hide them, but her expression is brave. "Where are you taking him?"

The figure clutches the children's monster close, looking just as fierce as any dragon in a fairytale. "Home. Will you stop me?"

The girl pauses, considering. "No. Don't think I could, really."

"Will you try?"

"To keep going? Yeah, of fucking course, sure as my name is Clementine. To stop you? Not bloody likely, I like my head right where it is." Xisuma's figure nods, satisfied, and with a blink, it and their monster are gone.

Notes:

[mythiccheroacademia]

—pocket heroes headcanons

mtha thots: it’s that time of year again where i start projecting my daily academic existential crises on the mha characters. i’ve had this idea in my head for months and got pages of brain rot fading away in my documents, so i’ve decided to stop being selfish and start sharing w some simple hcs. i hope you enjoy it <3

warnings: none

reference for the banner

© 2021 all writing content belongs to mythiccheroacademia. do not repost or modify

context: pocket heroes are a new phenomenon to the world. the whispers that spread by ear say they are tiny humans dressed in hero-like costumes that support you when you need it most. many don’t believe in them and blame it on overactive imagination. but the very few who know the truth, say otherwise. they say you can’t find a pocket hero, but your pocket hero finds you when they’re ready. luckily for you, your tiny friend made an appearance and is stuck to you like glue! 

--

Midoriya Izuku:

this little guy is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

izu is on the shorter side standing only about 3 ¾ inches tall

but don’t let that height fool you bc he’s a ball of energy!

he’s a chatterbox so if that’s not your game, good luck sis

but he’s so cute and his voice is so tiny how could you not love him

your pocket hero is so encouraging of you

for every assignment, he’ll sit by your hand and cheer you on

it’s impossible to give in to temptation and skip an assignment/call off work bc he’ll puff his chubby cheeks out and pout

he knows it’s tough, but you can do it! there’s nothing you can’t do!

although, if you need to take a break for your mental health, he’ll immediately stop and climb up into your neck to comfort you

makes posters with sticky notes he finds around bc he’s your biggest fan

sits by you during class and takes his own notes so that you two can compare

he doesn’t want you to miss anything important

 you get such good grades bc of deku ong

izuku’s fav place to be is in your shirt pocket or in your cleavage, behind the collar of your shirt with his little head sticking out

it’s bc he likes to be near to your heart

it makes him feel safe and close to you

if you get really stressed out, izu will cry for you

he hates it when you’re distressed and won’t be able to think clearly until you’re okay

his whimpers are so sad it literally pains my heart

your pocket hero loves when you bring him up to your cheek so he can latch on and nuzzle you

he’s highkey attached to your hip

he’s not afraid to use puppy dog eyes if you tell him he needs to stay home when you go out

7 times out of 10, you give in

but when it’s necessary for him to stay, he’ll sadly mope around until he hears the door open and runs to you

deku’s got this huge smile on his face that could make the coldest man crack

his tiny footsteps are so cute ughhhh

uses ofa to jump to your face so you can catch him and give him cuddles until he’s satisfied

i adore him

Bakugo Katsuki:

katuski stands at a whopping 4 ½ inches which is about average

but this particular pocket hero has a bad case of small dog syndrome

make fun of how small he is at your own risk

bc this little dude bites

bakugo’s a hardass about your responsibilities

like the man will not let you procrastinate!

over his dead body

if he catches you slipping, he’ll pull on your ear lobes

screams at you and threatens to blow you up with his tiny explosions too for good measure

you don’t have the heart to tell him his quirk feels like a flick from a two year old

his yelling is kinda scary tho despite sounding like a preschool kid on helium

nevertheless, pls trust that this little guy loves you and only wants the best for you

you don’t catch how he gets up extra early every morning and organizes your desk to the best of his abilities (some of your stuff is heavy)

or how he’ll spend hours going through your music and making playlists to help you study

bakugo complains about doing it, but he’s always down to go through flashcards with you

he’s a smart cookie and has got a keen memory so trust he won’t let you half-ass/forget any important assignments and exams

a mother hen

if you have at least three inches of hair, bakugo likes to stand on the top of your head and tug on your strands to “make you move” like you're under his control

yes, he has an evil laugh

you humor him every time

although, there was one time you threw your head to the side and he almost fell off bc he called you a bad word and you weren’t having it

it hasn’t happened again since

doesn’t go there often bc he wants to be all tough, but his fav place to be is in the crook of your neck where it’s warm and he can feel close to you

pls reward him for good behavior w a lil kiss

he’ll tell you you're being gross and make a big show of wiping your “germs” away

but he secretly loves it

there was one time you didn’t peck him for a week and he actually got nervous in an angry kind of way

asked if you were mad at him in the smallest voice you’ve ever heard him use  

also stomps when he’s angry

pls he’s like the cutest most annoying alarm clock

i love him

Todoroki Shouto:

if izu and katsuki are the angel on your right, shouto’s the devil on your left

don’t get me wrong, the little guy will suggest you do your work

but…if you can still get the grade you want and skip out on a few things, who is he to say otherwise

a strong advocate of work smarter, not harder LMAOOO

you secretly think it’s bc he likes to take as many naps as he can with you

anyways, shouto is about 4 ¾ inches in height give or a take a couple centimeters

he’s got an unnaturally deep voice for a pocket hero

he’s very quiet, reserved most times, and will be your silent support as you go about your day

but pls don’t think he doesn’t have the slickest mouth known to man just bc he’s quiet

there was one time you asked your teacher a question and they were being difficult

you went back and forth for a few min, failing to notice the irritation growing on todoroki’s face

then he just blurted out, “and you’re supposed to have a degree in education?”

thankfully, your teacher didn’t hear him but when I tell you your heart dropped

you can’t take this man nowhere

he’s just a very sassy pocket hero

you get some lip from him too sometimes but threaten to take away his soba and he’ll shut up real quick

shouto likes to hang out on top of your head and lay there

also likes to sit on your shoulder and idly swing his legs

when you’re both bored in class, he’ll make little ice sculptures to get you more alert

you let him read articles out to you bc his voice is really soothing

todo lives for head pats or when you gently scratch his head with your finger

he’ll chase your finger if you pull away too soon

you think he purrs but shouto won’t admit to anything

when he’s feeling clingy, he’ll raise his arms up signaling for you to hold him in your hand

it’s annoying sometimes bc you need to take notes or something but does it look like this boy cares?

pick him up now!

if you get stressed, he makes you put down whatever you're doing and drink some water

forces you to take a nap if it’s really bad

all pocket heroes have a reserved “bed” so their caretaker doesn’t harm them when they sleep, but todoroki is wiling to risk death if it means curling up on your chest

your heartbeat helps him sleep easier

i wanna protect him at all costs

im no longer accepting requests!

[fairyoftbz]

spring tenderness | l. sangyeon

🌱 word count: 2.1k 🌱 pairing: dad!sangyeon x mom!reader 🌱 genre: tooth-rotting fluff, dad!au, very domestic! au 🌱 tw: mention of food, past pregnancies and breastfeeding 🌱 synopsis: just a cosy morning where you spend some time with your husband and your two boys, Hyungseo and Youngjae. (yes i took kevin and eric’s korean names, don’t ask) 🌱 a/n: i’m not used to write this kind of au but it was so soft and domestic, i’m pretty sure that sangyeon will be a good dad one day 🥺🥺💖 i’m tagging @staywithmoon bc you wanted to read it and i can only thank you for that bub! <33

╰☆☆☆☆╮

You smiled when childish laughter erupted from the garden, the sound warming your heart at your son's joy. The curtains in the children's bedroom filtered the sunlight, generating a subdued and colourful atmosphere. Your son was in a deep sleep, his tiny shut fists resting delicately at the sides of his head, his pacifier moving to the rhythm of his breathing. With the back of your finger, you tenderly stroke his cheek, a joyful smile on your lips.

You sighed lightly, remembering your husband's reaction the day you announced the good news. When you first learned that you were going to be a mother, you weren't sure what to think. Sangyeon's potential bad reaction terrified you, having no idea how well he was going to take this news. The weight had come off your shoulders as he fell to his knees in front of you, eyes sparkling with happiness and excitement, you knew you wanted to live this experience with your boyfriend by your side.

Three years have passed since that wonderful event, and it's safe to say you've never been happier. A beautiful, healthy little boy had joined your pair, and Sangyeon had become an overprotective father, always ready and prepared to take care of his son by relying on the many readings and Internet researches that he had completed during your pregnancy. While you were feeding your son or resting, he would transform into a man-of-all-work and help around the house. It took a huge weight off your shoulders, just like when he woke up instead of you to soothe your child who was struggling to sleep through the night, allowing you to sleep and recharge your batteries. Your husband made a great daddy and loved you and your son to death, showering you both with unconditional love.

You announced your second pregnancy on his birthday, a few weeks after returning from your honeymoon. You stumbled across a video in which a woman was giving her husband baby clothes for his birthday on social media, and you decided that it was a creative idea and did the same.

During all these years of living together and this new experience as parents, Sangyeon had decided that you were the one with whom he wanted to settle in and share his life, proposing to you two years after your son's birth. The preparation for this fabulous event had brought you together a lot, and your skills in relationship communication had evolved exponentially.

Here you are now in a life of four, living in a house with a dog and a garden, a place your oldest son loved almost more than his bedroom and his toys. He spent most of his time there when the weather was nice and warm, having fun playing soccer with his father. He also loved making angels when the snow was in abundance, the smile that radiated on his face filled you with the greatest happiness in the world.

Taking your new born son in your arms, you rocked him gently against you, feeling his warm body all wrapped up in his pyjamas against your chest. He struggled to open his eyes and let his dummy fall against his chest. He was so cute that you couldn't suppress a smile, your son returning almost instantly the second his eyes met yours. The big brown orbs he got from his father held a lot of love, and his little feet wriggled in excitement when you kissed his forehead.

"Did you sleep well, my little angel?" Your thumb stroked his cheek, and he continued to gaze at you in awe, your heart softening with tenderness as he let out a gurgle to answer. Gently fixing his position in your arms as his cheek rolled against your chest, his eyes still misted with sleep bored into yours as he slowly emerged from his slumber.

Opening the patio door to the balcony, you tightened your cardigan around yourself as a light wind blew, creating a slight chill in the comforting morning heat of late spring. Your eldest son was chasing a foam ball, your husband standing in front of the miniature goal that reached his thigh, purposefully missing the ball for your son to score.

"Goaaaaaaaal!" Your other son threw his little arms in the air and ran around the garden, your dog following him with his tail wagging. Sangyeon shrugged but smiled, amused by your son's attitude and enthusiasm. You smiled too from your spot on the balcony, gently cradling your other son in your arms. "Good job, Hyungseo!" Your husband looked around the living room for a short moment, looking for you, but he gave you a smile you couldn't imagine brighter when he noticed you up there, congratulating your son for his accomplishment, but the latter didn't hear you.

Once he finally stopped, breathless, Sangyeon walked over to him while chuckling, bending down to be at the same level with him. You watched your husband whisper something into your son's ear, who almost immediately looked up at you. You gave him a little wave with a smile, and he came running up, locating himself just below the balcony, a huge smile on his face.

"Hi Mom! Hi Youngjae!" He moved his small hands from side to side, and you gave him a flying kiss, Sangyeon lifting him from behind to settle him on his shoulders. He laughed as he kept waving, sending him a playful wink in return as you couldn't reach him. 

Your husband grabbed Hyungseo's hands and started running around the garden, still with him on his shoulders, a crystal-clear laugh falling from their lips as they were brimming with energy already so early in the morning. You walked down to the garden, and they stopped when they saw you, Hyungseo touching the ground again. He ran to you as you sat in a lounge chair, watching his younger brother with attentive eyes.

"Are you going to feed him, Mommy?" He asked, and you nodded, making sure your new born was comfortably positioned in your arms. "Come on Hyungseo, let's go make some bread and jam, hm? Youngjae needs to be calm to eat. We can come back to them as soon as we prepared breakfast, okay?" Your husband explained to your child, whose face immediately lit up at the mention of food. “Yesssss!" Your son exclaimed and clapped his tiny hands, Sangyeon gently pushing him inside the house. You looked up smiling, closing your eyes for a quick second as he kissed your lips. "I'll be back in 5 minutes," his hand came to cradle your cheek, and you nodded, enjoying the tender gesture.He kissed your forehead before striding towards the kitchen, closing the sliding door behind him.

You took the opportunity to breastfeed your son, who had his tiny hand resting against your chest, trying to cling onto his food source as your two other boys bustled about and laughed in the kitchen. Your thumb stroked his chubby cheek and you beamed, the tightness you felt in your breast from the milk not being able to compete with the happiness that bloomed in your heart.

"Here you go Mommy," your son's frail voice reached your ears again as your gaze stared into space for a brief moment out of exhaustion, your hand still against your child's face. Hyungseo was holding a tall glass of juice with his two hands, Sangyeon appearing again, balancing three plates in his hands. He put two on his side and one at the other end of the table where Hyungseo usually sat. You kissed your son on the forehead as a thank you and took a few sips, feeling the sweet, pulpy liquid run down your neck and quench your thirst.

"Breakfast served for the best mom in the world," he handed you a plate with two slices of toasted bread spread with butter and honey cut into small squares, smiling at the fact that he had thought about you and your health. "Thank you very much honey," he kissed the top of your head and watched for a few moments Youngjae in your arms as he suckled quietly, his finger caressing his tiny, plump arm. "He's just as handsome as his mother," Sangyeon muttered before looking up at you, a tender smile on his face. You kissed him again, this time on the cheek, your heart going fuzzy at the notable sweetness and sincerity behind his words. 

Your husband sat down with Hyungseo and began to enjoy breakfast, chatting and exchanging looks with great affection. You had never been so complete, and you could only thank life for making your path cross with Sangyeon's. He gave you a wink and quickly wiped off the chocolate spread that decorated the corner of your son's mouth with his finger before bringing it to his own mouth, the latter asking a lot of questions about his little brother and his health. 

He was indeed going through the phase when curiosity was the only thing on his mind, your husband sometimes losing patience as your son wondered about anything and everything. Fortunately, he hadn't yet been amazed at how he and his little brother were created and brought into the world, but it won't be long in coming.

"Mommy! Are you coming to play with Daddy and me?" Hyungseo ran to the rocking chair in which you always fed Youngjae, your eldest child stroking his little brother's skull with his hand. "No Hyungseo, leave Mommy alone, she needs some rest. Nourishing a child can get pretty exhausting for your mother, but she will come and play soon," Sangyeon explained as he carried the plates to the kitchen, his body in the glass doorway. He nodded to his son to follow him, and he obeyed, a sad pout decorating his lips. "Honey, I'll come and play with you after I put Youngjae to bed for a nap, okay?" Sorrow left your son's eyes almost immediately, beaming as he heard his father call him from the kitchen. "Come on, go help Daddy with the dishes. Mommy promises to take care of you as soon as possible," he trotted back to your chair and pressed his lips on your cheek in a slobbery kiss before running to the kitchen. 

You chuckled through your nose when you heard Sangyeon scold him for running around barefoot before shifting your attention back to your son, who was looking at you with a lot of admiration in the eyes. Giving him a lovely smile, your thumb came to caress his cheek again, a wave of relief flooding your chest as he finally let go of your breast. After you burped him, you were about to go upstairs to change his diapers, but Sangyeon emerged from the kitchen right at the same time, smiling at the sight of you cradling your son on your shoulder.

"It's okay, I'll take care of it," he winked at you before taking his son from your arms and kissing him on the forehead, Hyungseo walking up to you to hug you, his little arms struggling to wrap themselves around your thighs. "Come on, Hyungseo, let's brush our teeth and then we'll play, okay?" He nodded, still leaning against you, and you took his hand, leading him to the second floor, following the same path your husband had taken a few seconds ago. 

Being the big boy he wanted to be and in a hurry to get back to playing with his foam ball, your oldest awkwardly brushed his teeth on his own, putting toothpaste all over his face and fingers. You lowered yourself to his level and showed him the right movements he needed to do to brush his teeth properly. Sangyeon was in the corner of the room, a smile on his lips as he changed your son's diapers, moved by the attention you paid to your children's education. He gently wiped Youngjae clean and tickled his belly once he was done clipping the press studs of his bodysuit, your son immediately giggling at his father.

"Everything's good, you can go back to play, but don't run down the stairs," you ruffled your son's hair with a tender hand, Hyungseo dashing outside the bathroom. You were about to raise your voice, but you listened to him go down the stairs one by one with a content smile, satisfied that he obeyed you. "Thank you," you mumbled, wanting to take your son off the baby-changing table, but Sangyeon was quicker.

"You already carry him all day, let me relieved your back and take care of him," you rested his head on his shoulder as he hugged your son, feeling a hand cling to your cheek, making you laugh as Youngjae also wanted to participate in this moment of tenderness. "Come on, let's go downstairs before our other one gets all jealous," you chuckled before kissing your son then husband, letting him grab some sunglasses and a little hat for your son. 

Grazing the railing with your fingertips, you sighed with ease, feeling loved and cared for by the three men who lived in your house. You used to have many doubts and insecurities about motherhood, but your husband's help and support had erased them all. You were happy to be a mom, and nothing could change that.

[cdroloisms]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[lovelyirony]

hi hello i am feeling very angsty so: rhodeytony ft tony's worrying lack of interest in avoiding getting kidnapped and his bodyguard rhodes' increasing stress levels to save a boss that doesn't want to be saved (and, if the flutter in his heart should be anything to go by - should not be his boss anymore). bodyguard to lovers??

Rhodey is a good bodyguard. Hell, he’s the best. 

That was why Pepper Potts hired him, after all. He’s not easy to fool, can follow anyone with a dogged determination that nearly defies human nature. He’s had successful stories before with glowing reviews from multiple people from all different threatened backgrounds. 

(Including at least three world leaders and a pope.) 

Tony Stark is...new. Well, nearly new. He’s a businessman, which isn’t anything out of the ordinary for Rhodey to deal with. 

…except Tony’s highly eclectic, a billionaire, and purposely makes his behavior as erratic as possible. 

It’s fun. What can Rhodey say? He loves a challenge, and Tony is about as challenging as they come. 

-

When he first starts, Tony tries every trick in the book. Rhodey still sticks to him, although he does leave some distance. Tony tries to make him uncomfortable by bringing just about everyone who looks home, and all Rhodey says is, “you gonna feed them cereal when they wake up? Because that’s all you have in your pantry right now, and you don’t pay me to do the shopping.” 

Tony scowls at that, and then changes his strategy. 

-

It’s an odd strategy. 

Tony decides he will just make Rhodey his friend, starting with the nickname of “Rhodey.” 

“That’s stupid,” Rhodey says, because he can already tell it will stick. 

“Not my problem, just my solution,” Tony grins. “Now come on, we’re getting burgers.” 

They’re at a sit-down restaurant. One of Tony’s favorites, actually. Rhodey is not sure why he’s sitting down across from the man with the most influence in the world, but he is. 

“So, what’s new with you? Who are you?” Tony asks. “Pepper sent me your file. You’re from Philly, right?” 

“Oh my god, you sound weird when you say it like that,” Rhodey says, deciding against formality as he basically tells Tony Stark that he sounds weird and shouldn’t say “Philly.” 

“Oh what, is that not what the locals call it?” 

“I’m going to take you there and they’re going to beat you up.” 

“Not the worst Sunday night I’ve ever had,” Tony mentions. “Hey, look at the menu. I don’t want you to flounder when the waitress shows up and you know fuck-all about what they have to offer.” 

“Okay asshole, any recommendations?” 

“The banana milkshake and bacon-burger.” 

Rhodey looks at the menu. 

He does end up with the bacon-burger, but chooses strawberry for his flavor of milkshake. 

“You traitor.” 

“Oh am I? Well then let me tell Pepper that you stole the last good pen she had then-” 

Tony flings a fry at him, and Rhodey laughs. 

- 

Here’s a concerning thing: Tony has a very “c’est la vie” approach about kidnapping. 

Like he genuinely doesn’t really give a shit if he knows what’s going on, or even if he doesn’t. 

Rhodey was eagle-eyed and chased a van three fucking blocks and caught up to the driver, wherein he punched his lights out and got Tony out. His hands were bound in zip-ties and his suit was rumpled, but Tony just blinked at him. 

“You think you broke a racing record with that?” 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they take anything?” 

Rhodey’s all over Tony, checking for any injuries, any stolen wallets or watches, and thank god everything is there. (Not that Tony would really care if anything was stolen, save for his sunglasses. He spends far too much on those, in Rhodey’s opinion.) 

“Okay geez,” Tony says, batting Rhodey’s hands away. “I’m fine. These people were amateurs. Shit, I’m running late for my consultation meeting, aren’t I?” 

“You just got kidnapped,” Rhodey says, tone rife with disbelief. “You just got taken and your concern is with the consultation meeting?” 

“Well I figured that you were going to come by or I’d be gone a lot longer, but now that I’m not? Yeah. Yeah, I am concerned with the consultation meeting. It’s a tech start-up company, only not that shitty Silicon-nice-guy start-up. It’s a more inclusive thing. I don’t know, I read their little ‘about’ section on their website. Which needs work. But that’s besides the point.” 

Rhodey just follows, dumb in disbelief. 

The few rare times that previous clients have been kidnapped or even attempted, they’ve needed a day to recuperate at minimum. They were shaken up, and usually beefed up the security for the rest of time after it. They also scheduled therapy appointments. 

Tony treated this like it was a traffic jam and he was only running five minutes behind. 

- 

The second time it happens when Rhodey’s there, it lasts a little longer. 

Rhodey has to admit, he maybe did some...under-the-radar looks. The FBI wasn’t moving fast enough, and the legal channels weren’t up to snuff. And besides, Tony did say that he could use Jarvis if he really wanted to. 

(Turns out they both went to MIT at the same time, and Tony had been that obnoxiously short guy in his econ class that rarely showed up, but when he did he showed up in a suspiciously nice outfit.) 

It was a weekend. Rhodey had gone away for two seconds to get a drink for Tony and then he was gone. 

It was...bad. 

The problem is this: 

Tony definitely doesn’t need to be kidnapped as often as he is. He has so many inventions that can prevent that, he’s sold quite a few of them to the military. 

But for some fucking reason, he doesn’t want to be saved. No, he’s content just going along with what’s happening, even though everyone else around him wants him back. Needs him back. 

He finds him bruised and tied up to a shitty folding chair. 

“Hey darling,” Tony says, lips a bloody red. “Can you believe this chair? I would’ve thought they would at least have gotten something a tad nicer. I am their best-dressed guest, after all.” 

Rhodey looks over the torn shirt and the pants that have all but been shredded. His shoes are battered and stained beyond repair. 

“Don’t,” Rhodey says. He sounds tired. He is tired. “Don’t do this.” 

“Don’t do what, get kidnapped? I hardly try,” Tony snaps. “Or do I just have a sign on my back that you didn’t know was there?” 

“You know I was in the Air Force,” Rhodey snaps back. “I got high enough clearance that I was one of the guys who got to see what brand new toy you sent our way. I know you could use any of those, shit, you probably tested it out, so you would know.” 

“And your point?” Tony asks. “What, you’re saying I should know better? Saying you know better than me?” 

“You know what? Yeah, yeah I am saying that,” Rhodey yells as he’s untying him. “I am fucking saying that I know more than you because you couldn’t give less of a shit if you tried about your own well-being! You were kidnapped and I’ve been running myself ragged trying to get you back, and you just don’t care!” 

Tony stares at him. Really stares at him. 

“Let’s go home.” 

Nothing else is said in the car ride home. Tony can’t even look at Rhodey. 

They go home, where Pepper greets Tony with a hug and makes him swear not to leave again, and Tony says “I promise,” only they both know that he’s lying. 

But they’re not calling him out on it yet. No, not tonight. 

- 

Rhodey stays. Technically he doesn’t have to. Jarvis is the most advanced artificial intelligence system in the world. Hell, he’s the only one that’s even in his league, but Rhodey just...feels better staying. 

And Tony’s mansion is a gargantuan structure with about twenty different rooms to choose from, so Rhodey gets a nice view and tries to go to bed. 

He’s never gotten enough sleep. He knows he never would. That’s why the army loved him: he could be up at any hour and he’d be fine. That’s why his dad called him the bane of his existence in a loving manner: Rhodey would be up at four in the morning filling out the crossword before anyone else could. 

He’s up at four a.m. making breakfast. 

Tony’s pantry is still shit, but it looks like Pepper went shopping for him or had someone else do it, because he actually has eggs and juice and actual food instead of the odd pickle jar or way-too-old yogurt. 

“You’re...up,” Tony says. 

Rhodey turns around. 

“Sorry. I, um. Stayed.” 

“It’s fine,” Tony says awkwardly. “What are you making?” 

“Omelet.” 

“I always mess those up,” he says. “Either too much cheese or I forget I’m cooking it.” 

“You want one?” 

“You gonna make me one?” 

“Accidentally cracked one too many eggs, so yes. You want onions and spinach in yours?” 

“Sure,” Tony says. “What are you doing up?” 

“Always bad at sleeping,” Rhodey answers. “Can never really stay asleep for too long.” 

“Forget to take your melatonin gummies?” Tony answers, grinning. 

Rhodey can see a bruise on his collarbone. 

“You sleep okay?” 

“No, but I rarely ever do,” Tony says. “Especially after yesterday’s fiasco.” 

“You mean the whole weekend,” Rhodey says, putting the rest of the eggs into the pan. “Can’t imagine that was fun.” 

“Oh come on, it was a ball,” Tony answers sarcastically. “They let me play cops-and-robbers and I was given pizza. Clearly it was a fantastic time.” 

Rhodey stares at Tony. 

“You know in the contract that I had you sign it specifically states that you have to let me help you, right?” 

“It says you have to rescue me regardless of feelings or previous obligations,” Tony says. 

“Rescuing you doesn’t just mean I chase after vans and track you down in an abandoned warehouse, it means that I rescue you from those situations before they can happen. But I can only do that if you agree that you won’t get kidnapped,” he says. 

“And what, I want to?” Tony asks. “Do I say that?” 

“You don’t have to,” Rhodey says, flipping the omelet over. “You never think you’re worth rescuing it because you think you’re never going to be good enough and I think you think that you owe me for giving a shit.” 

Tony looks at him. 

“You’re really honest.” 

“I try to be.” 

“I love that about you.” 

Rhodey’s hand shakes slightly as he moves the omelet a bit in the pan. He hopes Tony doesn’t notice. 

“Well I would love it if you stopped being kidnapped.” 

“Aye aye, Colonel Rhodes,” Tony says, saluting. Rhodey rolls his eyes. 

“Oh my god, do not.” 

“What, am I not supposed to thank our armed services for making this country safe?” he mocks, standing up. “For going above and beyond the call of patriotism and helping keep Americans everywhere safe?” 

Rhodey threatens to eat his omelet when he breaks into singing the national anthem. 

- 

There’s an...understanding. 

Tony starts taking up training with Happy and almost agrees to regular training with Rhodey until Rhodey wants him to get up at six and do some workouts, and he yells “No!” after one workout session. 

Rhodey pointedly pretends like he’s not staring at Tony’s chest when he lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat. 

“Come on Rhodey my darling, let’s do breakfast.” 

Tony dragging him to breakfasts, lunches, and dinners. It’s...nice. Rhodey ignores it when Tony waggles his eyebrows as he takes the check and calls him “darling, honey, baby,” and he lets him because it sounds nice. 

He doesn’t say anything to Tony. No, you can’t date your boss. It’s unprofessional as hell and Tony probably is just doing it because Rhodey’s in close proximity and they have a good banter going. 

- 

The next time that Tony has an attempted kidnapping, Rhodey is there. 

He’s there, and he’s being taken away, dragged from Tony, and Tony for the first time looks terrified. 

Rhodey tries to struggle, tries to do anything, because Tony has to get away, and he...

He’s knocked unconscious. 

-

When he wakes up, his head hurts worse than it ever has, and for a moment he’s pissed at Tony because he forgets that he’s been kidnapped and there’s no control over the thermostat because the room is hot as all get out. 

And then he sees Tony across from him, and he’s never seen Tony angry. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony says, voice shaking. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise. I’m sorry.” 

“Not your fault we have assholes take us,” Rhodey says. “But god I would kill for some air conditioning.” 

Tony smiles a bit at that. 

- 

Here’s a problem: you cannot give Tony Stark anything if you want him to not escape. Either that or he has to be unconscious because he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. 

And they used actual handcuffs to keep him there. God, what a joke. 

Tony learned how to break out of handcuffs when he was twenty and chained to a bedpost on accident. (Long story.) 

This is nothing. 

But the problem is that Rhodey’s here. His bodyguard who really shouldn’t be putting his life on the line for someone as shitty as Tony, but here they are, and he has to get him out. 

“Follow my lead,” Tony whispers. 

“Well of course I will, who else has as much experience being kidnapped as you?” Rhodey mutters. 

“Okay is now going to be the time where you sass me? You’re here too. I could leave you.” 

“You’re not gonna do that, Pepper would make you come back.” 

“No she wouldn’t.” 

“Yeah she would!” 

“Not after I tell her that you used the last of her salad dressing.” 

“Shit.” 

Tony snorts, looking at the room. They don’t have security cameras, which is just...questionable. Oh my god, he got kidnapped by amateurs. 

He’s kind of embarrassed. 

Rhodey gets free, and they’re both headed towards a door, and Rhodey picks up a stray part of a metal pole, and Tony cannot lie and say he’s not intrigued by that. 

Not saying he hopes Rhodey gets to use it. 

He’s just curious how he’ll utilize it. 

- 

They get to just. Walk out. They fucking walk out. What kind of people did they get kidnapped from? It can’t be that easy, can it? 

It can’t be...

It is. 

Okay sure Tony is driving in a hotwired car and they’re being shot at, but all things considered that’s not the worst thing. And the truck is probably considered stolen anyways, and once Tony makes it to the highway, it’s not like they’ll be able to follow without making it onto national news, not that they haven’t already. 

Pepper’s very effective at getting things to trend on national news when she wants to. 

- 

Rhodey is sitting on a beach chair. He shouldn’t be, and he also shouldn’t be drinking a mimosa because it’s four p.m. and definitely the morning, but he figures since he got kidnapped he’s allowed at least one mimosa. 

“So. Your first kidnapping?” Tony asks. “All things considered, yours went well. I think next time we should go to Wendy’s or something, I was starving-” 

“I’m just. I’m glad we’re okay,” Rhodey says. “But yeah. Maybe next time. If there is a next time. I’m going to I think make you hold hands with me so that you don���t get napped by terrible, shitty people.” 

“You could’ve just asked to hold my hand, we didn’t need to be kidnapped together,” Tony says. 

“Hm, is that a breach of contract?” Rhodey teases. 

“Only if Pepper decides to enforce it, and she won’t because you’re the first bodyguard to have an actual success story with me,” Tony says. “So. I’m thinking maybe we skip the kidnapping next time and go straight for dinner.” 

“Oh thank god, I thought you were gonna say a fast food restaurant.” 

“I still could, you don’t know,” Tony grins, winking. “What if our first date is to Burger King? What are you gonna do?” 

“Be mad that I still like you,” Rhodey grumbles. 

Tony cackles, dropping a kiss onto his hand. 

“Do you think I should get another bodyguard or will dragging you away during a party be too awkward for them?” 

“...I’ll think about it.” 

(They don’t get a new bodyguard. 

No matter how much the other security complains that Rhodey’s the only one who knows where Tony is at all times, and they can’t exactly ask them if they’re busy doing...things. 

Rhodey finds it hilarious.) 

[avasghost]

When We Drown Update #2

[image description: a pale blue photo of a rocky cliff, and a boy at the edge in the distance, standing on a pile of rocks and looking down. in white serif font in the centre, reads “when we drown: update two” / end id]

wip intro here. first writing update here. 

DISCLAIMER: this is my original work, please do not plagiarize in any way.

hi everyone! it’s been a while since i did a writing update (time is fast) and i’ve written quite a lot! up until about a week ago i was in a really, really bad writing slump (which lasted like,,, four months) and so that’s why there hasn’t been a crane anatomy update for a ages because (: i haven’t been writing it (:

i don’t know if i mentioned this in the first update, but this book is now non-linear which has been an ~adventure! the non-linear plotline is kind of freeing because i can just pick a scene i want to write from any time in april’s life and just ... write it? i don’t have to follow the years chronologically. i try to create some kind of causal thread between the scenes but i don’t know how well that’s working out lmao. since WWD follows an entire life story with the protagonist looking back on it and remembering her life, i try to make her memory of one event trigger the memory of the next event, and usually they’re linked by either emotion or information.

current word count: 13,228

so when we drown is officially longer than crane anatomy now, despite being the side project! fun.

anyway lets get into the chapters because i have nothing else to say. tw for death, and other trigger warnings are before the individual chapters!

excerpts under the cut.

chapter 5: faces

[image description: a birds eye view of a forest of snowy pine trees. above the trees in black serif font reads “chapter 5: faces” / end id]

this is a very short chapter (a page and a half) which is a flash forward to when april and elena live together in a cabin in the woods sometime in their late forties. elena is asleep in an armchair and april stokes the fireplace, and then goes outside and sees elias’s ghost and then it dissapears (tbh,,, i think a lot of the chapters will be like this oops) this is the second ghost sighting in the book, but at the point when april is 48 it’s almost a regular occurrence! i might end up moving it to later in the book eventually, since i might want the ghost sightings to be in linear order if nothing else is, to keep the main thread of the book in order.

I closed the door of the woodstove, and glanced over my shoulder to see if Elena had been woken by the clanging of metal. She stirred slightly, a familiar face in her nightmare, an unfamiliar face in a familiar dream. Two fingers clenched against the armrest, then became limp again. Half of me wanted her to wake up, to see me, to speak to me, to see the fire bouncing in the grate and be happy for warmth. But again, she needed rest. She needed to be alone for a while, even if that was just in her head. She’d seen her fair share of fire.

also its snowing in november and its british columbia and i know this is unrealistic but! aesthetics are more important than logic we all know that.

[image description: blurry pine trees and a light snow falling in front of them, with a ridge of snow along the bottom. white serif text in the centre reads “The snow-tipped pines that cupped the cabin sagged under the weight of unexpected snowfall. Their fallen needles jotted the snow. The sky was white, spotless, like an expanse of faraway ocean or the inside of a crystal ball.” / end id]

The snow-tipped pines that cupped the cabin sagged under the weight of unexpected snowfall. Their fallen needles jotted the snow. The sky was white, spotless, like an expanse of faraway ocean or the inside of a crystal ball. No birds flitted between the branches, no foxes slunk between the pines. All was still. All was white. I was alone.

and the ghost is seen then disappears as usual and april goes inside again.

You were gone by the time I reached the door again, by the time I stepped inside and Elena stirred in her armchair, by the time I had stepped out of my shoes and gone to stoke the fire again, which was already starting to dwindle.

i like having elias referred to as “you” because its like april is telling the story to him, but he’s not there, so she’s talking to herself, which is very in character for her to do.

chapter 6: the party

[image description: a slope of pine trees with a grassy field at the bottom. mist shrouds the trees in the distance. a dirt path leads through the grass towards a cabin. in the top right corner, reads “chapter 6: the party” / end id]

chapter 6 follows the day before elena’s fifteenth birthday, and then her party the next day. this is a traumatic time for april because she decides she should mention her first elias sighting at the party. obviously people think she’s crazy and so you can guess how that turns out (aka april goes home and cries because she’s a soft bean)

elena has a cool tree in her backyard apparently!! this seems to be a running theme.

Dribbles of leftover sunlight sifted through the branches of the elm tree that ribbed the sky, its roots furrowing the lawn like varicose veins.

i will admit i didn’t finish this chapter and haven’t written most of the party scene yet so i will probably update on the rest of it in my next update (if i’ve written it by then which i probably won’t have but! we’ll see.)

chapter 7: sacred ground

[image description: the ocean stretching into the distance, with small waves. a blurry girl with long brown hair stands in front of it, facing the water. in the middle in white serif font reads “chapter 7: sacred ground” / end id]

the aftermath of the first elias sighting, when april goes and tries to talk to elena about it. i actually don’t know if this or the party comes first and the non-linearness might be catching up to me oops but we’ll just pretend everything makes sense okay <3 

first she tries to decide who to talk to about it and her options are quite limited. she picks elena because she’ll probably take her seriously, and then goes to her house in a state of shock.

I considered my options. Elena: the calm one, either pretending to be wise or really wise. Magnolia: probably less stupid than she made herself out to be. My mother: still crying over a tragedy of five years ago and a tragedy of fifteen years ago and the tragedy of a lifetime wasted in crowded cult meetings and stark bedrooms, tears always falling, thoughts either always whirlwinding or too dead to pay attention to. I found myself winding up the jittery pathway to Elena’s house, or maybe it was me that was jittery. Maybe it was me, who made the world blurry like this. Maybe it was me who was seeing things, not those things drifting into my line of vision and then falling out of sight. The pearly birches jagged the edges of the valley, their leaves chartreuse in the wind-rustled sunlight.

and then elena rejects her plight and april returns to where she saw elias. turns out elena isn’t as accepting of april’s hallucinations as she was supposed to be! here’s a bit of dialogue i generated from that incorrect quote generator that seems fitting for this moment!

April: Bad things keep happening to me, like I have bad luck or something.

Elena: April, you don't have bad luck. The reason bad things happen to you is because you're a dumbass.

this IS april and this IS elena how does this generator know what my book is about!! anyway back to excerpts:

I ran back to where I had seen you, all slow wonderment vanished, and found the place where my old footsteps in the sand looped around. I knew you wouldn’t be there, I wasn’t surprised that you didn’t appear again, your face bobbing in a rice paper mist. I wasn’t surprised that Elena didn’t chase me out, eyes drained of tears, to apologize. And I wasn’t surprised that from that point forward, I thought of that place as sacred.

chapter 8: always falling

[image description: a blurred black-and-white close-up image of water falling. white serif font in the center reads “always falling: chapter 8″ / end id]

tw: death, drowning, blood, fantasizing about drowning

eight-year-old april and magnolia visit a waterfall with magnolia’s parents. feat. april’s dog, august!

The waterfall coiled down the cliff face, cracking the surface of the river like a thousand strands of thunder. I could hardly hear Magnolia’s parents shouting something up ahead, their voices lost in the blare of water.

shortly after:

When I heard suspension bridge, I pictured one from old fairytales I read: wooden, burlap ropes for railings. A thirty percent chance of falling in. I was reassured by the stability, but August shivered at the way it jilted underfoot. He had never walked on ground that shifted under his feet, maybe it was an earthquake, maybe the ground was breaking in.

and here’s sweet eight-year-old April fantasizing about what it would be like to drown. If you think that’s foreshadowing no it isn’t 👁👁

[image description: a slightly grainy photo, half water and half sky, both tinted turquoise. a hand lifts out of the water toward the sky. above the hand in white serif font, reads “What it would feel like to drown, water snagging in my lungs, sharp stones shattering my ribcage until the entire river turned to blood. Being sucked by the current until someone finally found my body, far from where I lost it.” / end id]

I stared over the edge, tried to pierce the thick buzz of mist that separated me from what would be the teeth of my fall. I imagined the bridge giving way, like it always did in the stories I read. One end breaking, the ropes snapping, the entire bridge swinging into the bottomless river. What it would feel like to drown, water snagging in my lungs, sharp stones shattering my ribcage until the entire river turned to blood. Being sucked by the current until someone finally found my body, far from where I lost it. Maybe it would be an old fisherman, hauling a girl in with the day’s catch, or his frail wife, who would faint on the spot at the sight of a dead child, bloodied and mangled and already tearing apart.

they cross the suspension bridge, and august unfortunately falls in! this is just a bit of april’s childhood trauma and i wish i didn’t have to cause her this pain but i do i’m sorry 😭

chapter 9: dead letters

[image description: a close up sheet of paper with a few lines of cursive writing across it. a fountain pen lies across the page. in the bottom right hand corner, a black serif font reads “chapter 9: dead letters” / end id]

a very young april and elias get caught in a hailstorm then go inside and find letters from their father, who they never met because he still lives in the cult their mother escaped from the day april was born. their mother tries to hide the letters from them but! these children do not relent. 

We tracked through the colourful forest in autumn, our rubber boots tore trails through the scattered maple leaves. Pronged pinecones crackled under my heels as I chased you, threading between the trees.

I was eight, you were faster but I managed to keep up all the same. A haze of rain sizzled on my skin, but rain didn’t phase me back then. I didn’t mind the water droplets that pearled down my neck into the hem of my bright yellow rain jacket.

they escape from the hailstorm and find their mother in the kitchen making tea (rare!) 

When we tripped over the doorframe and found ourselves panting in the kitchen, the kettle wheezed and mother emerged from her bedroom to take it off. The scent of green tea wafted through the air as she poured it, steaming, into a ceramic teacup with a crack veining down the side.

april tries to take one of the letters but her mother stops her. later during the night, she and elias get out of bed and read the letters and it turns out their father left the cult as well, and wants to meet up with them. april wants to meet him, but elias is bitter about it and doesn’t really even consider him their father because he was never there for them. 

chapter 10: frostbite

[image description: two pale hands reach towards the sky, in front of a blurry indigo background. in the top left corner, white serif font reads “chapter 10: frostbite” / end id]

tw: freezing to death

there are those weird times when their mom tells stories about her life. these incidents never end well but happen occasionally! she tells april about a time when her and a few other cult members were in the mountains and one of them froze to death. at this point april is around fifteen (which is where the main plot of the book is at right now)

She cut off there, blanched, stared out the window at the sun-speckled backyard, but I could fill in the rest of the details myself: skin a cold stone blue, frostbite jittering through the lungs and spine like a poison, eating everything slowly. Lying in the snow, letting the cold overcome them. Dead before morning. I wanted to ask if they buried the body, dug a grave of snow that would be melted by spring, or just left the corpse lying in the snow for someone else to find, or be eaten by a wolf pack, or to deteriorate, and haunt those lonely slopes forever.

afterwards, april goes outside (yes its snowing again 😭 as someone who dislikes snow i sure write about it a lot) 

On those days, my desperation to leave the house rose to a high and I would slide into a pair of ragged sneakers and a cable-knit sweater and push out into the cold. Once vibrant green leaves now greyed with frost, a snowfall months early but not unwelcome. Striking before the trees had the chance to shed their leaves. Frost brittled the branches of the oaks so I could snap them without an effort, not that I wanted to snap them. The concrete of the road was spined with ice that made it look like the ground was caving in, icicles barbed the eaves of our house like jagged teeth. Sometimes I thumbed snow into my mouth like a child, hoping no one was watching a seventeen-year-old eat snow, and let it blot my tongue and dribble down my throat. The cold shock to my system helped clear my mind of whatever mother had been talking about, helped me cope with the pain I shouldn’t have been feeling in the first place.

aaannd that’s everything i’ve written so far! this has been the worst writing slump of my life and i’m not too happy with most of the stuff i’ve written lately, but hopefully that clears up so i can update y’all again soon!

- ava

wips taglist (ask to be added or removed!) @shaelinwrites​ @august-iswriting​ @wildswrites @nodeadnarrators @annlillyjose @shaonharryandpannisim @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @dallonswords @teaandtypewriters @chewingthescenery​ @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons​ @writing-is-a-martial-art​​

[hostess-of-horror]

A Day at the Diner

[M.B. is my Cadetsona OC, Sean and Nyarly belong to @drusb, and M.J belongs to @sleepy-heads-blog]

---

Sam: "See, I told you hiring a new Cadet would be a good idea!"

Max: "Ugh! Alright, alright! I get it! Sheesh..."

Sam: "The kid's honestly been doing a pretty good job, at least with the errands. M.J. and Geek have warmed up to her rather quickly."

Max: "Yeah, but just wait until something happens where the plot shifts into a devastatingly emotional turn where we all somehow get into a heated argument because of something she did and we decide to split up...." *mumbles* "Hopefully by then it doesn't end with our 'friendship' rekindled."

Sam: "Jesus, Max, what's the big deal? She hasn't even done anything to you."

Max: "Like I said before, I'm territorial, and she's in my territory!"

[Sam sighs. The bell over the Diner door rings. There enters M.B., the new Cadet, all dressed in black from her nails and makeup down to her boots. Her dirty blonde hair is completely shaved on the right side of her head, and the rest fall onto her shoulders. Along with her dark attire is a pair of magenta tea shades, fishnet gloves, and spiked jewelry. She is carrying a small pastel purple coffin backpack, which is covered in multiple pins. M.B. looks around the Diner until she sees Sam and Max in their booth.]

M.B.: *smiles and waves* "Hey guys!"

[As M.B. goes to join them, Sam begins to notice more things about her appearance. It was almost androgynous, a mix of both feminine and masculine. Her clothes are baggy - a pair of cargo pants and a black t-shirt with the words "Dracula" across the front. Below the title was the famous image of Count Dracula holding a fainted woman, ready to sink his fangs into her neck. M.B. sits down across from him and Max, placing her coffin backpack down.]

Max: "Hey Lumpy, where's your coffin? The sun is out! And I think you're at the wrong place." *points to the window* "Hot Topic is that way."

Sam: *bumps Max's head* "Quit it, pinhead. Sorry about that, kid, just ignore him. Anyway, I figured it would be a good idea to have you introduce yourself, get to know you a little better. Meeting each other while in the middle of a monster attack wasn't exactly the best way to introduce ourselves. You know about us obviously, but we don't know a whole lot about you."

Max: "Other than the fact that you kinda suck at the obstacles."

Sam: "You'll get through them." *shoots a dirty look at Max* "I'm sure of it."

M.B.: "Well... for starters, I'm not from around here."

Sam: "Oh yeah, M.J. mentioned something about you being from a... uh.. basically another universe?"

M.B.: "My Paracosm?"

Sam: "Yeah, that. What is a Paracosm?"

M.B.: "A Paracosm is a heavily detailed imaginary world inside one's mind. To put it simply, I came from a universe that I created from my imagination."

Max: "So... you live your life daydreaming and pretend your in a fairy tale land. How... depressing."

M.B.: "I mean, not exactly. It's real, for one, at least for other universes like yours. Almost everyone has a Paracosm. They're just mini universes inside larger universes. In my Paracosm, I'm basically a goddess. I create everything within it. But when I'm outside it, my powers are extremely limited."

Sam: "Powers?"

M.B.: "Yeah! They're illusions essentially, and I can do some pretty neat stuff. I defended M.J. from Brenda one day with my powers. I totally scared the sh*t out of her! I don't think she'll ever mess with him again."

Max: "Brenda? Isn't she that snobby little b*tch that insulted my kids at school?"

Sam: "I think so. How did you scare her?"

M.B.: "I summoned a couple gremlins to chase after her and then cornered her into a massive, decaying wall of flesh where she gets bombarded by large newborn maggots."

Sam: "...."

Max: "...."

M.B.: "Oh, and I also gave myself bat wings."

[A moment of silence. Sam and Max are stunned.]

Sam: "Uh-huh... and, uh... can you still use your powers now?"

M.B.: "Yep! Here, I'll show you."

[M.B. holds her hand up and forms a tiny ball of aura in midair. Sam and Max marvel at the sight; M.B. smirks. She then bends the aura, twisting and bending it with her fingers.]

M.B.: "With this, I can make whatever I want. Although, my personal favorites are anything that's related to horror movies."

[M.B. clutches the aura tightly, focusing her attention into its light. Then the aura transforms into a Glazed McGuffin.]

Sam and Max: "Woah!"

M.B.: "Pretty cool, right?"

Sam: "So this is what Geek and M.J. we're talking about! M.B., this is incredible!"

M.B.: "Heh... I kinda kept all of this to myself at first... mainly because I thought you guys would think it's weird."

Sam: "Kid, we're talking animals that have a human, an alligator, and a fusion of our DNA as our adopted children. Not to mention all the cases we go through!"

Max: "I have a brother who's married to an eldeitch being, for God's sake!"

Sam: "What you have is not weirder than what we've seen before. It's new and we've never seen someone like you before, but in the end, we don't see you as strange."

M.B.: "Really? I guess it's just that... my Paracosm, my powers, and the whole illusion thing are kinda difficult to explain to a lot of people. So, I get anxious.... nervous about being misunderstood. So, I have to keep it to myself. Sometimes. But when Brenda was harassing M.J., I just couldn't hide it anymore. I can't stand harassment and I always wanted to be a protector of sorts. Only in my Paracosm and other universes like yours will I ever make that happen."

[Sam and Max look at each other. M.B. picks up the Glazed McGuffin, twisting it back into its aura form. She plays with it a little. Max sighs, crossing his arms and looking from the booth towards the floor.]

Max: "...."

Sam: "Max?"

Max: "Um... Lumpy... Thanks for... helping M.J. out there. And for being his and Geek's friend."

M.B.: *looks up from the aura* "You're welcome. I'm really glad to be their friend." *gently smiles*

Sam: "Wow, Max. That's the first time you became genuinely nice...."

Max: "Tell anyone about this and I will personally make you into a dog pelt so I can use you for napping, and have Lumpy as my witness."

Sam: "You crack me up, little buddy."

[yanderepuck]

What if the fur babies had babies????

Imagine MC having the same pet as their vampire boyfriend

Jupiter 

He??? Decent dad.  Tho at one point he’s like “k kids.  Time to learn how to fly” and pushes a baby out the nest and Napoleon luckily catches the baby.  Jupiter gets a mouthful.  The nest is so much bigger and Bunta is a little upset he isn’t allowed in the nest anymore.  They are very noise however.  At one point Napoleon considers moving the nest to the barn, but who knows how they would react to the nest moving.  Good thing he’s a heavy sleeper

Schelm 

To say the least.  He was very confused by these fluff balls.  Mozart absolutely ADORES the babies and makes sure they have everything they need and more to be comfortable.  But when someone asks him about them or Schelm he goes “Who?  Tho dumb owls?  Yeah they’re doing alright I guess”  Then he goes back to his room and cuddles the babies and helps feed them and helps keep the nest cozy.  But Schelm doesn’t leave the babies side.  Only because he trusts Mozart does he let him near the babies.  Sebas isn’t even allowed in Mozart’s room during this time.  Eventually Schelm takes them all tot he music room.  He had been working on making a nest in there for them since that is where Mozart spends most of his time, and plus the open windows make it a more comfortable atmosphere.

Lumière 

First of all???  Where is the mother cat even going to nest??? Leonardo’s room is a mess.  Either way.  At first Lumiere could have cared less.  He was like oh, babies.  But since he realized they were there to stay and not visiting he started to become really helpful and would bathe them and make sure they don’t get into anything in Leonardo’s room.  But once they start walking it is chaos.  They end up getting out of the room and running through the halls.  And maybe even end up in Theo’s room because they saw that big fluffy thing and wanted to see what it was.  Vinc loves them all and gives them all kisses as Theo is yelling for Leonardo to get them out.  Mozart has made sure to keep the music room door closed once he saw them in the hallway.  Jean absolutely loved them and thought they could be friends with Cherie.  Lumiere chases them through the hall trying to get them back to the bed room, but by the time he gets one back another one has escaped.

 Vic

He can’t believe they are smaller than him!  Something finally smaller than him!  He’s a vvv good dad though.  Having kids sorta calmed him down but he is still very yippy.  He picks up his children and shows them of to Arthur.  He’s like “DAD!! LOOK!! ITS MY BABY!! LOOK HOW CUTE!!” and his tail and going WILD.  I imagine Arthur would spoil them.  Theo would too because, well, puppies.  Vic is a little cautious of King going near them just because of how big he is, plus King forgets that he is that big.  But once the puppies start walking around and getting into trouble Vic can’t seem to keep them away from King.  They just crawl all over him.  But their little yips??  The rest of the mansion is slowly hating the puppies from how loud they are.

Brush 

Ohmygod.  Baby raccoons.  THEY GET IN SO MUCH TROUBLE WITH THEIR LITTLE THUMBS.  It is at times like this Vincent wished he had a bed, because they all insist on sleeping with him.  He doesn’t mind being buried under baby raccoons.  Brush likes to carry as many of them as possible and show them to the residents, especially when they were first born.  When they were born he took Vincent’s hand and dragged him over and made him sit down and handed him each baby to look at.  Mama raccoon was not too happy, but trusted Vinc and so she let it happen.  Then Brush went into the hallway, first person he saw as Isaac so he dragged Isaac in and had him look at the babies too.  But once they start walking around on their own they are CHAOS.  lil thumbs to get into things.  Sebas thought having one raccoon being able to get into the kitchen was bad.  Now he has to lock everything.  They enjoy getting Vic worked up and chasing them around.  If King wasn’t so much bigger they would do it to him.  Occasionally you will find them cuddling with Lumiere.  But a resident will wake up to having a baby raccoon int heir face.  Napoleon has kissed one occasionally. 

 King 

King is already Vincent in dog form, BUT NOW THERE MINI ONES.  They are very goofy and trip over their feet when running.  Theo wasn’t sure if having puppies was going to be a good idea, but the moment they were born he regret everything he said.  The man is a dog lover and he will allow any chance of being covered in puppies happen.  He tells them they can’t sleep on the bed, but by the time he wakes up in the morning they are all there with him, including King.  He can’t be mean to those cute puppy faces.  Vinc isn’t too much of a dog person, at least not big dogs, but he loves the puppies and plays with them.  King lets them climb all over him while playing and he watches over them when they are outside so they don’t get hurt.  They are very well behaved expect when it’s dinner time, and they running into the dining hall where everyone is eating and is trying to beg for food.

Bunta

Honestly?????  Bunta would probably be so confused.  Dazai would hold Bunta and be like “Look, Bunta.  Those are your babies.” and Bunta just tilts his head.  But once they can leave the nest they follow Bunta or Dazai around.  Bunta has taught them that Theo is bad and to stay away from the cat.  He brings Schelm and Jupiter into the room to see them, and Schelm is like “.....food???” and Bunta screams.  Soon they are doing the same as Bunta and sleeping int he other birds nests.  It annoys Schelm to have tiny cheeping blobs in his nest, but if they are quite then they aren’t too bad..  Jupiter enjoys them and can’t understand how a bird can be even smaller than Bunta.  Bunta is already so smaller, and they come even smALLER??

  Harry 

Smol bby hedgehogs all scurrying around Isaac’s room because he refuses to let them go out into the hallway because he’s worried about them.  Isaac was so deep in his work he forgot to tell anyone about the babies.  Sebastian happened to come by to drop off his lunch and heard the squeaking of the babies.  The babies were already like two weeks old at this point.    Whenever a bug gets into the bedroom they start to run after it trying to eat it and then they start fighting for it.  So as much as he hates it, Isaac will intentionally bring bugs into his room because he knows they want to eat bugs.  Harry however teaches them how to sneak out of the room to go exploring.  This is how they all end up getting stuck in the basement. . . again. They just can’t seem to be able to go up stairs.

Cherie

No one but Jean knew about the two cubs for the first few months.  Then he took them to show Comte to show him how cute they are.  Comte just looks at him and isn’t quite sure what to say.  There is no way they can keep up with four tigers.  But while they are cubs they are adorable and lay in the sun and sleep with Lumiere and they all play fight.  They know when Sebas is in the kitchen and run in and squeak for food, especially if it is meat they smell.

Puck 

Oh god.  How many would there even be.  Will and MC thought her rabbit was a boy, but then a month later there were babies.  Will just looked at Puck and went “Don’t you dare do it again,” and Puck is just munching on some greens.  So many zoomies.  The babies were extra hyper and Will had to extra rabbit proof the house.  Puck wouldn’t just munch on anything he saw, but who knows with these babies.  They started to chew the legs of Will’s writing table and made it wobbly.  They will all pile up on Puck and sleep.  Have you tried getting nearly a dozen bunnies back inside?  Impossible.  They are all over Vinc when he comes over to visit.  At first they weren’t sure about him, but since Daddy Puck seemed to like him and not be bothered, they decided to investigate.  Que Vinc cooing them all.  Most of the babies picked up on Puck’s needy and yandere habits  and must get fed when they want fed, or else they hangy.

Time/Thyme

THE CHAOS.  Mini thymes running around biting your toes and climbing up your legs.  Mozart has pulled one or two out of his piano and yeeted them out.  They were running back like AGAIN AGAIN but he closed the door shut and never opened it when they were around.  Somehow Leonardo always ends up with one in his pocket.  Even he isn’t sure how.  They will attack anyone but Comte is always the first option.  They were all hidden in Vincents coat, he has a lot of layers, and then they heard Comte and suddenly all their little heads pop out.  Vincent likes when they sleep on him.  At least three times a day you hear Comte yelling “STOP BITING MY TOES”  Thyme doesn’t help bc he bites too.  He taught them well.  Thyme doesn’t even try controlling them.  He joins in the chaos.  Sometimes you’ll even see them climbing up the curtains.  At night Sebastian gets a basket and goes around the mansion to collect them all and puts them in Comtes room so everyone can sleep in peace.

Lotte 

They are just so little what the heck.  They baa and hop around like there’s nothing wrong in the world.  Sometimes Sebas will bottle feed them just because he loves doing so and finds it adorable.  They love to follow Sebas around when he’s cleaning.  He will shoo them outside to go play but they just baa at him and keep following.  If there is a table int he room you damn well be sure that they are going to stand on that table and baa at anyone who walks in.  Theo and Arthur get baa’d at alot.  Lottie basically lets them do what they want as long as it isn’t dangerous

Masterlist