#maybe 'celestial tinkerer'?

[justfangirlstuffs]

Touch prompt for @chaotikanvas

"How about 9. Listening to the other's heartbeat?"

Your night of fun goes completely sideways when the law decides to crash the party. Luckily the devil you're with has no intentions of letting you get caught.

@naffeclipse

Based off of the Syzygy in Dedication AU where Sun and Moon are Mob Bosses.

Wordcount: 1860

Part 2 (Read part 1 here)

“So this is what rock bottom feels like.”

One moment you were relaxing in the corner of a speakeasy chatting up a mob boss, the next moment the doorman rushed in alerting everyone that the cops were coming. The room erupted into chaos as bodies scattered like roaches when the lights get turned on. Before you could think about how you were going to get yourself out of this mess, Sun grabbed your hand and pulled you close as he began wading through the throngs of people. You turned your head and just as the first badge walked in, the lights all went out. Plunged into blinding darkness, the only points of light close by were Sun’s optics that only just illuminated his easy grin, like he was having the time of his life.

“Upsy-daisy, darling,” was the only warning you received before he scooped you up and carried you with him.

Instinctively you clung to him, not knowing where he was taking you except that you briefly felt an upward momentum as the first beams of flashlights began sweeping the room. It was impossible to know or even guess where Sun was taking you. Maybe he knew a secret escape route. However, that hope was dashed when he took you into a room, and before you knew it both of you were squeezed inside a wardrobe, the doors shutting you in with a decisive click.

The next few minutes had been nothing short of awkward as the two of you fenangled and jigsawed around each other with your elbows bumping him and his knees bumping you. Eventually, Sun had situated himself into a full chair pose against the wall of the wardrobe with you locked in between his knees, back pressed against the opposite wall.

Once again you were bemoaning your decision of ever thinking going out was a good idea. “So this is what rock bottom feels like,” you muttered.

—--

“Rude,” Sun commented, keeping his voice to a nearly imperceptible volume.

His optics dimly illuminated the space you both were trapped in. His arms were folded, one finger tapping near his elbow. He’d been having such a delightful evening. The business he and Moon had come for was going well, and he rather enjoyed the surprise of getting to spend some time with you that didn’t involve the professional setting of being your customer. Was he a little miffed the police had such incredibly ill timing? Obviously. But he wasn’t altogether displeased by the current circumstances. Clearly, you were.

“A ‘thank you’ would have sufficed.”

“And what would I be thanking you for, exactly?” you asked, glowering up at him. “Please enlighten me.”

“How about the fact I just plucked you out of a very sticky situation? Or that we cleaned up a mess that would have been life-ruining for you?” The favor for which they’d yet to cash in on, by the by. That day would come soon enough. “Or how about the fact we have been remarkably patient with you, more so than we’ve afforded anyone else?”

“Patient?” you repeated with a soft scoff. “I’ve given you my answer, but you both will not stop pushing. And you’re confused as to why I’m bothered when my back is literally and figuratively against a wall?”

Sun’s head tilted, his rays retracting in an inch or so to avoid scraping them against the wood. He took hold of your hips and pulled you away from said wall, closer to him. Your hands gripped his and, for a moment of discomforting uncertainty, he thought you might try to push his touch away. You didn’t. Your smaller fingers merely gripped between his as you stared up at him, not fearful of his intentions, but questioning of his motives.

“You might change your mind.” His thumbs found their way under the hem of your, circling over warm, soft skin. He delighted in the breathy little noise of surprise you made, your hands gripping his tighter, but still not pushing him away. It was moments like these that gave him the certainty he and Moon needed, that you were indeed theirs. You were just taking your time realizing that inevitability. As if they would let anyone else have you. “Can’t a criminal mastermind hope?”

You snorted softly. “I think mastermind might be a bit of a stretch.”

“Rude,” he repeated, giving your hips a soft squeeze in playful warning. “Must I give you a lesson in manners?”

Faintly he could hear heavy footfalls and shouting. It seemed the police were still going through and catching what few stragglers they could. Not that it would do them much good. The place would be reopened and resuming its business in a matter of weeks.

“Thank you,” you mumbled. “For… making sure the police didn’t find me.” Your eyes drifted downcast. “They’ve been by my place, you know. Asking questions.”

He was aware. After the incident, he and Moon had been keeping a close eye on your shop, having a few of their people monitoring who came and went. You’ve clearly been handling the situation fine, and the police had no reason to suspect you. They had made sure of that.

Your body shifted in his grasp, favoring one side over the other. “If… if the police find out…”

One of his hands caught you under the chin, gently forcing you to look him in the eye. Because he wanted to make one thing VERY clear. “That will not happen.”

For several moments you were silent. Then you gave the subtlest of nods. “Okay.” 

You believed him. Good. Because they would sooner burn the precinct to the ground than let you be taken away from them. His eyes drifted down to your shirt collar which hid the majority of your neck, but it couldn’t fully hide the evidence of bruises that were still healing. Curious, his hands reached out and began working to undo the top button of your dress shirt.

“S-Sun!” you hissed, your back bumping the wall in an adorable attempt to escape from him. “What are you-”

“Shh, not so loud, darling,” he sing-songed. “You’re gonna get us caught.”

He got the first couple of buttons undone, pulling the fabric aside to find the ribbons with the twin gold bells. You were still wearing them. There was an immense satisfaction seeing their bells around your neck, and that you chose to keep them in the very place they first tied them to you. You didn’t need to. They hadn’t specifically asked you to. Yet you did. It made his servos whir just a little bit faster, his rays momentarily shifting back and forth like a metronome.

“You’re still wearing them, I see,” he mused out loud.

You relaxed, shoulders slumping with a sigh, followed by a breathy laugh. “Well, yeah.” Your fingers brushed over them, as though checking to make sure they were safe and secure. “They seem important to you both.”

“Mm, it’s more accurate to say they are… irreplaceable.” Much like you.

“I’ll keep them safe then.”

“I know you will.” His finger softly tapped your collarbone. “Tell me, love. Were you afraid I would do something indecent?” Silence. His smile lengthened. “Or, perhaps… were you hoping for it?”

You scowled, glancing away from him. “You are unbelievable.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘no’.” It was just so much fun to tease you. Your reactions were always such a delight, and he never knew fully what to expect.

“Believe it or not, being accosted in a wardrobe is not my idea of a good time,” you muttered. “But no… I wasn’t worried. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a creep.”

Not exactly a compliment, but he would take it. Your body shifted again, your brows tightly pinched together. Something was bothering you. You were leaning heavily against the wall now, fingernails digging against the wood.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you said a little too quickly.

“Darling, I will tolerate a lot of things, but lying isn’t one of them.”

You huffed, one of your hands moving to rub over your knee. “It’s just my knee. It’s not doing too great.”

Sun sensed there was a story behind that, but given the circumstances, he doubted you would be terribly forthcoming about it. At least for the moment. So, he once more took hold of your hips and set you down to straddle one of his legs.

“Better?”

“Y-yeah… thanks.”

“If you’re looking to repay my generosity…”

“There it is,” you said, head tilting back with a sigh.

“At least let me finish,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s a very small ask, I assure you.”

“Fine, what is it then?”

“Do you trust me?”

“If THAT isn’t a loaded question.” He said nothing, merely waited. Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for a moment before sighing again. “With this… yes.”

Sun leaned down, pressing the corner of his face against your chest. The rays on that side of his head fully retracted so as not to hurt you. There, with his face rested against you, he could hear it. Your heartbeat. It fluttered wildly as he felt your body stiffen in his hold. He felt your chest rise and fall with your breaths, with him riding the gentle waves.

He’d heard stories of those finding comfort in the sound of another’s heartbeat, and he could understand the appeal. There was something calming in the steady rhythm, the pulse of life that drummed against his auditory processors. And the longer he rested there listening to the continuous drumming, the more he felt your body relax, and your heartbeat slow, though still fluttering a lovely dance he liked to believe was for him.

“Lovely,” he murmured.

Your hands carefully, almost shyly touched along the rays that were still extended. He didn’t mind one bit. He liked it when you touched him back, and not just because you were assessing for damages or fixing something that was broken.

“Is this your first time hearing a heartbeat?” you asked, your voice reverberating softly against his cheek.

“Yes,” he admitted. “No one’s ever let me get this close before.”

“You sure it isn’t the other way around?” you asked, the barest hint of tease in your words.

“Mm, touche,” he answered. “Maybe a bit of both.”

Sun stayed there. He would stay there until you said enough. He was… indulgent in that regard. There was even a moment he was certain your hands were pulling him closer or, at the very least, holding him in place against you. His arms wrapped around you, trapping you as you had him. Sun noticed for a few seconds the thumping rhythm increasing in speed and cadence. It sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He was doing that to you. What other things could he do to make your heart sing for him?

Before he could act on any of the ideas that popped into his mind, footsteps entered the room, causing you both to go very still. The footsteps grew closer, and moments later, the doors of the wardrobe were flung open.

[mrkeatingsblazer]

Rick should make a pjo universe short story book.

Like pair up random characters with a member of the Seven and have them go on stupid quests and just do teenage things.

My favourite one I’ve thought of is Will and Leo going on a road trip to Austin to see Naomi preform. Will was gonna take Nico but Leo caught whiff of the fact he had two tickets and basically begged to go (I headcanon Leo LOVES country music, Naomi Solaces no.1 stan fr). Leo ends up building a fucking truck and is like “ROADTRIP❗️” Will is just like “huh” because he was low-key either gonna get Nico to shadow travel them or cash in his son of Apollo privileges and get him to drive them via the sun chariot.

The whole thing would just be a country filled shitshow and it would be amazing. They’d find themselves in a dance hall, Leo would get flung around on a mechanical bull and Will starts line dancing (of course they found themselves in a thrift shop before this after somehow destroying their clothes and they would buy cowboy boots and hats). A funny little moment would happen of a girl hitting on Will and he’s like “I have a boyfriend!!” And Leo just appears after winning the bull riding record and jumps into a hug with Will and the girl is just like “Awh sorry I didn’t know! You two are such a cute couple” and walks away leaving them flabbergasted.

They’d obviously have to fight a few monsters and maybe an enemy of one of there fathers(I can’t think of one that hasn’t already been defeated, maybe Geryon?!?). Both of them would be running around losing their shit bc neither of them are big fighters but Leo goes into his belt and starts tinkering and he just yells to Will who’s trying to hold the enemy back “Apollo kids have a good shot right” and Will’s like “Yeah but I’m not the best a-“ and Leo just throws something at him and says “shoot this!!!” And will just looks down and he’s holding a fucking gun that has celestial bronze bullets and he just blindly shoots and defeats the monster on his first shot leading him to realise that he has brilliant aim with a gun.This would send him spiralling for a page bc what do you mean he has good aim?!? He’s been horrendous with a bow all these years and all he needed was a gun to activate that power?!?

They would end up at the concert and have a blast (Leo 100% starts crying, Naomi is his Beyoncé) but Naomi would finish a song and invite a special guess out and out comes fucking Apollo. They would sing a duet (islands in the stream or smth idfk) and Will is just shocked. I feel like he would get a little sad and Leo’s just like “bruh you good?” through his own tears and Will just opens up and is like “ they seem so happy together, I wish I grew up with both of them” and Leo just hugs him as they watch Apollo and Naomi sing their hearts out on stage.

Sorry the Will and Leo Texas solidarity/bromance gets to me fr.

But like seriously this would be such a great idea!! Imagine Frank and Clarisse or Piper and Nico going on a random adventure together. It would be so chaotic.

[dumb-hat]

alternate: What would your OC's alternate universe look be? If they're a fantasy character, what's their modern look? If they're sci-fi, what's their fantasy look? What AU would you want to see your OC in, and how would they dress themself? Bonus: Prompt an AU! (Really expecting an Exalted answer here...)

Okay, goddammit. I'll do it. I'll do the damn thing.

So here's the issue, right: I love Exalted. I really, really love Exalted. Some of my best friendships have been made across a table where we played that game. A lot of the ones that weren't made by Exalted were made better by Exalted. Aside from a few breaks here and there, the game's been a big part of my life ever since it came out in 2001. I'm running an Exalted game right now, and I'll be running more soon.

So of course I've spent a lot of time figuring out where Evander could fit into all of that. Hell, I've done that across multiple editions, at this point. I'm going to stop myself short of doing an entire Exalted-focused rewrite of his character history, but trust me, that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it.

(Okay, okay... Fine. tl;dr: Replace Limsa Lominsa with Wu-Jian, you should probably replace Ishgard with a Northern satrapy to the Scarlet Empire, but I'm gonna swap it with Whitewall because I love Whitewall, then replace Ul'dah with Chiaroscuro... again, mostly because I love Chiaroscuro. If none of that makes sense, feel free to ask me about it and I will give entirely too much context. I will give so much context that you will hate me.)

Anyway... The quickest question to ask and answer regarding an Exalted AU Evander is "What kind of Exalted is he, anyway?"

Okay, quickest isn't the right word, or we wouldn't be here. But it's the question that people would ask if we were actually talking about it, so it's the question we're going to answer. There's... There's a lot of places to go with this. Depending on which edition you're going with and how you want to slice things up, there's like... anywhere from 5 to 10 different playable kinds of Exalted, and even then, you can break some of those down into like... subgroups and stuff. My point here is... I'm going to exercise some restraint and not go into each one.

I'm going to do three and whittle it down to one.

So, maybe the most obvious option would be to say he's a Solar Exalted. Solars are the chosen of the Unconquered Sun, the King of Heaven, the god of virtue and excellence. His chosen are champions and exemplars among humanity, and their legendary deeds are backed up by ambition and limitless potential. They're just fucking good at stuff. Given how much Evander likes to design and tinker with shit, and how much he loves just knowing stuff, it'd be tempting to go a bit against type and call him a Twilight Caste, the Solars who are chosen to be sages and scholars among their peers... But nah, he's an obvious Night Caste. Night Caste Solars are the shadowy left hand of the Unconquered Sun, acting decisively from the shadows. They're your superspies, superthieves and superassassins... And if we wanted to take the easy route, your SuperEvanders.

The Solar Exalted are my favorites, but I think it might be more fun to imagine him as one of the Dragon-Blooded, whose family lines have been chosen by the Elemental Dragons to wield their elemental gifts. They differ from Celestial Exalted (like the Solars, and another type that we'll get into soon) in that their power is not passed down through reincarnation, but through bloodlines and dynasties. Individually, the average Dragon-Blooded will be less powerful than your average Celestial Exalted (if either could be said to exist), but they're way more numerous. Exalted traditionally recognizes five elements within the setting of Creation: Air, Earth, Fire, Water and Wood. It wouldn't be a stretch to make him out to be an idealistic, innovative Air Aspect, a quick-witted and passionate Fire Aspect, or a hedonistic, thrill-seeking Wood Aspect, but I don't think any of those are a perfect fit. Personally, I think if we're making a Dragon-Blooded Evander, he works best as a Water Aspect: Like water, capable of calm stillness, or relentless, torrential waves; able to adapt to any circumstances, able to find weaknesses in the tiniest gaps.

Solars and Dragon-Blooded are both pretty easy, though. Lets get a little weird. We're not going to go full weird; like, we're not making him a communist war robot hero who will eventually become a city, and we're not making him a weird hero-from-another-world-that-doesn't-exist-because-his-strand-of-destiny-was-cut-from-the-loom-of-fate, heck, we won't even make him a spite-and-fury-powered punk rock prince of Hell. We're only gonna go, like, half-weird in Exalted terms.

We're gonna make him a Sidereal Exalted.

The Sidereal Exalted are chosen by one of the five Maidens of Fate: Mercury (The Maiden of Journeys), Venus (The Maiden of Serenity), Mars (The Maiden of Battles), Jupiter (The Maiden of Secrets) and Saturn (The Maiden of Endings). The Sidereal Exalted operate out of the heavenly city of Yu-Shan, where they work as a part of the Bureau of Destiny, a division within the Celestial Bureaucracy tasked with making sure that the destinies planned by Heaven come to pass to ensure safety and stability for all who dwell within Creation.

It's like the 36th Chamber of Shaolin meets the Adjustment Bureau. It's like Journey to the West meets Office Space.

It's amazing.

And it feels like a weird fit for Evander! As far as FFXIV characters go, he's pretty down-to-earth. He's not a god-killer; hell, he's barely a people killer! He doesn't channel the vast power of Hydaelyn, he doesn't roam other reflections; he's... he's just a little guy, who mostly gets in trouble and cares way too much about stuff while trying to pretend he doesn't. He's defined more by his connections to the people and the world around him (and his desire for those connections) than he is anything else, which is why he's the perfect candidate to be a Chosen of Serenity.

Also, I apparently love making him miserable, which is why he's the absolute perfect candidate for Sidereal Exaltation, because... well, the Sidereals are kinda fucked as far as that whole connection thing goes. The Sidereal Exalted are subject to arcane fate, a curse which dooms them to be forgotten by most, as it conspires to erase memories and records of the Sidereals alike. Sure, other Sidereals, many gods, and the occasional other Exalt (or rare exceptionally tricky mortal) might remember you, but the rank and file? Nah, you'll be forever forgotten. Trying to forge those connections that are oh-so-important to him would be like swimming upstream against the current of inevitable loneliness.

Venus, the Maiden of Serenity, oversees relationships of all kinds... And it's worth pointing out that societies, in this case, are kinda just like really, really big relationships, aren't they? Venus' chosen are entrusted with making sure that things under her eye unfold according to Heaven's will. They struggle to bring joy, peace, prosperity and (of course) serenity to a world drowning in chaos.

...

So, I was originally going to actually fill out a character sheet and out that here, but then I looked and realized that it's almost 4 AM, and, like... I have to work in the morning and then actually run some Exalted in the evening, so... I'm gonna pass on that, actually.

For now.

But, uh, yeah. So, Exalted AU: Evander's a Chosen of Serenity, I guess.

Ask me stuff! oc asks: character design edition

(If anyone ever wants to talk Exalted, omg please please, I'm right here, I'll do it. I love this shit)

[phoenixcatch7]

Every so often I dip into transformers fanfic (specifically bayverse) just because the concept of giant shape-shifting mechanical immortal robots just slaps so hard. All of the fics get so close but never quite scratch the itch I want, so here.

Cybertronian Sam Witwicky, vessel of the Allspark

A seeker, naturally, but I haven't decided on alts yet. Or a name (I like Rubicon, because of the doorway/point of no return/on a knifes edge between two worlds meaning and.. Also because the Allspark kinda looks like a rubics cube lmao)(but it doesn't sound quite right and I'd like to lean more into the idea of sacrifice maybe?)(or maybe something celestial or mythical for the space/alien/spark=stars metaphor... Apollo?).

I haven't seen it done, but I really like the idea of the Allspark using its own material to create the cybertronian body, given the total lack of actual resources it has (and needs). This would give Sam a very unique bronze/gold protoform instead of the usual grey/black metal, and eyes/optics the colour of sparks. The feather horn things were meant to be a lot smaller, but that was the smallest they got! And idk, I've grown to like them. A little nod to his organic origins. And the circles are supposed to be extra eyes. The boots I was delighted to find, they blend so well with the body and make it look like he's not bare lol. Because hero forge isn't quite that free with design (yet), please imagine a couple wheels by his ankles he can drop down to rollerblade on.

I had a ton of fun with the colours, I think it's my best one from scratch yet! It was so hard to keep from adding too much detail or clothing, and I did struggle with the sheer bulk of a typical cybertronian build. The pauldrons and scarf help with that, but he's intended to be pretty slight compared to the average anyway. In every continuity they're so, so bulky ToT. I might tinker with the proportions now I've finished the model! The spear... Well I'm a sucker for staffs, but it's not a cybertronian weapon unless it can slice or shoot something, preferably while transforming into something else. This one is also a laser gun, very energy intensive if you're not hooked into an infinite power source lmao. He's got a few emergency cannons in his arms, because... Why not?

Man, now I've made him, I want to write something for him so much... Must resist, must resist...

[saphirered]

Hiiii idk if you are taking requests that aren’t prompts but I thought I’d tell you my idea anyway :D I’d love to see something with Percy de rolo where he has a crush on the reader but they are dating someone else. Maybe with some angst or hurt/comfort

Ahhh idk I love ur work keep on writing amazing stuff :DDDDD

Angst and pining. A love not meant to be. Choices were made and we know the choices of a certain tinkerer are not always the right ones. Hope you enjoy this one. 😘

Percy remains hollered up in his workshop for hours, days, weeks on end only leaving when he absolutely has to or when he’s forcefully dragged out. He’s taken to the cot in the room as opposed to his comfortable chambers. He even goes as far as requesting books from idiots instead of gathering them himself. He barely speaks. At least he eats and drinks. He supposes he’s lucky he has friends like he does because if they did not save him a plate of whatever was left over after Grog had his fill, he might have forgotten entirely that sustenance is a necessity for all things living. One might argue so is daylight but Percy would count himself living proof this is not the case. When is the last time he’s seen the sun? Any time he tries to recall he does not just imagine a sun with its vibrant rays. Instead he sees much more. He sees your silhouette in the light as you look like a true celestial being. He sees your smile as you’d pulled him along out in the streets giggling. He had found himself laughing back then too. It’s as if when you stepped into his life he only then realised he lived in a world of darkness. You pulled him from the shadows by your sheer presence and that’s a dangerous thing. 

Of course Percy, despite the risks his mind conjured up to having anyone with such a value in his life, could not refuse himself from relishing in the unburdened wonder you brought. You made him feel alive, not just surviving. Though to be fair you pulled him into his fair share of reckless danger too, it was always an adventure and dodging daggers and axes left and right did not diminish the value of your time nor presence. He’d do anything to be in a tavern brawl now if only to see you kick arse and have his back. You’d blow him a kiss whenever you saved him and would not let it go until the favour was returned in which case it was his time to gloat. He’d give anything to have those moments regularly again. He’d wasted his chances by keeping you at arm’s length. Of course you brought him all these things unconditionally but you had offered him so much more. You’d offered him love and acceptance and noticed him in ways he wanted to reciprocate. He just couldn’t. To be okay letting go everything, put it all to the side for a single person, that’s not just a risk; that’s a fear he carries with him. He has things he has to do be that revenge or repent for what he might be facing. One word from you and he’d cast his life’s work aside. One word. 

So he took a step back, or several rather. When you offered him these blessings, these magnificent and wonderful gifts of your heart, he’d refuse them. When you opened your heart to him and confessed the feelings he too shared, he let you down. It broke his heart to see you saddened. It shattered his heart when you still found it within yourself to smile so warmly at him and told him nothing would change. You were friends first and foremost. You’d remain friends. Every fibre in Percy’s body shouted to hold you, tell you he loves you and this is all some stupid thing but you didn’t ask for the reasons of his refusal of your heart. As per his wishes you didn’t talk about it at all. You didn’t pretend it did not happen but you knew him well enough he does not always do so well with confrontation and you respected that. Percy watched you move on with your life. You’d still have your moments together. You’d never retreat from him. Nothing changed, as you promised but he kept you at arm’s length.

He’s ashamed to admit that when he found you slipping out without anyone noticing, or returning home late, or gods forbid in the early morning hours with a satisfied smile on your face, Percy felt something burning within him, eating him up from the inside. He does not blame you for moving on after his refusal. It was his decision, his fault after all but that does not undo the bitterness set in his heart. When his friends kept pestering you to spill, you did not. While you flustered so beautifully when Scanlan tried to pry for details and told you whoever it is in your life, better be taking care of you in every intimate way possible, Percy could not be there for that conversation and he had promptly left the room. You’d cast him a pitied glance but stayed and talked with the others as they fished for the nitty gritty of your love life. He thought he might vomit not because these talks disgust him but simply because his chest tensed in such a way he felt nauseous. 

As you became less guarded on the details of your apparent new relationship, Percy grew more reclusive until you hardly saw him at all. He was more curt and brass and avoided the topic of your love life and happiness overall entirely. You saw him, truly saw him and assured him everything is alright, will be alright and he has nothing to worry about. Your worry is misplaced. He hates himself for letting you slip through his fingers, for not taking the chance you offered him because if it were not for his stupidity he would be holding you in his arms and not some snobby redheaded elf who you’re causing mischief with now. Then again, he was the one to turn down your offers of chaos first. It all comes down to him again. He refused you. He said no. He let you go and he will not blame you for his choices. You are innocent in this. He’s just… He’s just stupid and blind and now his chance is gone. 

“Percy?” Your sweet voice echoes through his mind more so than the halls. He’d escaped his workshop in the hopes to avoid everyone but you’re here, just around the corner and he almost bumped into you. Like a deer catching its hunter’s gaze he freezes and takes a solid few seconds to register what just happened. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” No. 

“Are you sure?” You press. He hopes you do not see right through him. He hopes you miss how his breath catches and he cannot seem to breathe at all, how his heartbeat speeds up and sends a rush of blood through his face he cannot seem to repress, how his head feels light yet his limbs so heavy. He hopes you miss it all as he forces a pleasant indifferent raised eyebrow. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He says as though the entire question is preposterous. Again that pitied smile that makes him want to scream. 

“You’ve just been staying in your workshop so much lately. We’ve been getting worried. But if you say you’re alright, I’ll trust your word.” You fiddle with your thumbs. Few times has Percy actually felt remorse, true remorse for his actions, even fewer times have those actions haunted him in his present. This is one of those times. Why must you do everything right? Why must you respect his boundaries and be so damn kind? And why can he not be deserving of such? He’s stupid, so damn stupid and he cannot help himself.

“Don’t you have some boyfriend to meet up with?” That came off very wrong, your eyes shoot up to his and the fiddling stops. You just freeze and when he sees that strike of pain his features soften. “I’m terribly sorry. I appear to have left my manners in my workshop. Let me rephrase. You must have places to be that are far more important than speaking with this tinkerer.” He chuckles, albeit forced and refers to the dusted white shirt covered in a variety of stains that show he probably should not linger close to any kind of open flame. You relax a bit but seem to make a mental note still. 

“I will always make time for my favourite tinkerer.” Gods those are not the words he hoped to hear. Those are the words that make his heart leap several miles. And your smile does not help either. Yet he can’t but notice, it does not reach your eyes. What’s going on? You continue. “But I mustn’t keep you any longer. Before the others notice you’ve come out of hiding.” 

“Of course. You’re right.” He sounds crestfallen. Your lips curl in a kind smile as you reach out to take his hand and give it a squeeze before you move past him. He turns to watch you go. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t look over your shoulder. Don’t look over your shoulder. You look over your shoulder and meet his eyes one last time before you turn the corner and then you disappear. 

————

Dear Lord Percival many names I cannot spell De Rolo the Third,

We humble commoners request demand thy esteemed presence for dinner tonight. Bathe, dress thy comfiest and please grace us with your humbly sophisticated spirit. 

Yours dearly, 

Your troublemaker

It’s been a few days since your last interaction and now Percy finds this letter addressed to him slipped under the door of his workshop. He must have been asleep when it came because he did not notice it for some time, and given the slight dusting of ash and lingering smell of smoke, he feels safe to say it’s been a few hours. What time is it anyway? Shit. An hour to dinner. He’s read it over and over and over. He cannot help but hear your voice speak those words, with the ever present joy behind your reading voice and the way your eyes light up when you used to look at him. They did not light up the way they used to last time, nor in the faint moments of passing when he snuck by an open door desperately trying to avoid his friends. You’d never blown his cover, despite what he knows is his friends insisting he gets out of that workshop. You’d offer him a wink or a wave if you thought you could and assured that no eyes would turn to him until he was out of sight. Despite everything you help him still. Of course you do. You’re his friend after all. 

He’s held the letter above the flames of his forge, ready to drop it in and burn it ever existing but he can’t. He can’t let go no matter how hard he tries. You’ve moved on. You’ve moved on and now there’s someone else in the place he wishes he could have been but he can’t. He can’t do it. He can’t watch you be happy like this when you gave him the chance to call you his and he yours. He can’t watch that chance being wasted and the wrong choice being made. You hold the key to his happiness it seems but not one person should be responsible for a single person’s happiness. It should not be reliant on the one when one is so easily taken away or lost. Then again, ever since your time became divided, ever since he saw you less and less, and refused your presence by locking himself up here between ashes and inventions, he’s felt the world duller than before. Percy craves that what you offered but he cannot go asking for it, he cannot let you offer it. And so he casts the invitation into the fire. He returns to his tinkering to keep his mind off his mind, off you.

An hour passes and there’s a knock on his door. You stand outside it and rap your fingers against the heavy wooden panels three times. You don’t hear anything beyond the sounds of the workshop you’re used to. You knock again but no reply, no stop in those sounds until they do stop and some seconds pass. The door doesn’t open and there’s not further reply. 

“Percy? Are you joining us?” You speak so sweetly, so full of hope. He doesn’t reply. “Percy?” You call again but there’s no hope. He can almost hear your frown through that damned door. He hesitates and puts his tools down. He takes a step towards the door, and closer. He reaches for the handle but doesn’t wrap his fingers around it. 

All the while you stand against the door, halfway between opening it yourself, if only to just check in on him. Something is wrong and you fear you might have made a mistake. You confessed your feelings for Percy some time ago and he turned you down. You think you might have misinterpreted his own actions for affection more than friends but you were never one to assume. You didn’t confess with the expectation that he would smother you in kisses and tell you it was meant to be. You live the life you do and know that fairytales are hardly the way of reality. You did not expect a fairytale. You told him because he deserved your honesty and he knew you well enough to know that you have him as your friend first and foremost and that would never change. You would not let some silly crush get in the way of that. Some feelings might be or have been romantic but you can set those aside easily because at the end of the day you love Percy for who he is more than some fizzling attachments that were never there to begin with. You’ve moved on. 

You’re happy. You keep telling yourself you’re happy. Someone else stumbled into your life and you think you could love him, in a way you do and in a way you know he cares about you, but both of you admitted to seeing how long this thing you have will last because were it not for your wildly different lives and stories, you have equally different paths to take in life and they are likely to separate. That’s alright. Not every love story is endgame. That doesn’t make it any less worthy of love and time and affection. It’s just a story with a clear ending and that’s okay. You know what you’re in for and so does your elf. You’ve moved on from the tinkerer but he’ll always hold a special place in your heart. Favouritism at its finest. Who knows what the future will bring but you will not sit around and wait for anyone. Not even Percy. 

“Percy?” You call to him one final time as you retreat your hand from that handle and wait a few seconds but no reply. You take a step back and nod to yourself before you turn on your heels and find your way to the dining room where your friends are waiting to share stories of past, present and future adventures and you’ll join in too. You’ll put on a smile, not a forced one but a genuine one. You’ll think about the white-haired gunslinger in his workshop from time to time but that doesn’t tarnish your mood. You just smile fondly and hope he’s alright. 

It takes Percy every ounce of self restraint to not open that door, to pull you into his arms or fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness. He retreats his hand and cradles it close to his chest as he tries to control his breathing. It’s incredibly difficult and he does not trust his legs. When he hears you take a step back he bites his lip and sinks to his knees quietly. Then those steps echo throughout the hall until they fade into nothing. Only then does he let his back hit the door. Only then does he pull his knees to his chest and places his hands over his face. It’s not sad or something worth crying over. He’s just angry, at himself, the world at his mind and his past and purpose. He’s got a purpose he needs to fulfil. He’s got a goal to reach and maybe if there is something left of him by the end of it, maybe if you look back and take pity upon him, maybe if you allow him into your life he can be whole again with the key to his happiness. He hopes so but hopes is for the foolish. He’ll be a fool. He’ll be a fool for however long it takes. 

[theitalianscribe]

Flashback to the time I saw a hot air balloon museum and came up with a steampunk lost prince Welcome to Dreamworld AU

I'm going to paste the first half of the notes here because the Prince of the Skies au still lives in my head rent free but I want to do some formatting before posting all of my notes.

I feel like this will be a mix between Castle in the Sky and Anastasia. 

Also it is in the skies because hot air balloons are really cool and I want to read more stories about adventures in the skies. 

So there is this kingdom I have yet to name that is somewhere in the sky. It is magical because why not. The kingdom is plagued by a beast made of shadows that takes the form of a horse. To free the kingdom, the Lost Prince must be returned. 

Wiatt is tasked with finding the Lost Prince and guiding him back to the kingdom. He knows what to look for and a way to both confirm the prince's identity and restore his magic. There is a series of trials that the one worthy of the throne can pass. It is a coming of age ceremony/tradition for the new ruler to complete the magical trials and prove their worthiness. 

The story could start with Wiatt in a village on the ground. He has a perfectly fine life here, but he needs to find the prince of the skies and how can he do that from the ground? {This also leaves for me to put character cameos if I can't find roles for everyone in the cast.}  

Wiatt ends up aboard the ship named The Oddity, a slapdash ship housing a mix of people from all over the world. At the head are three people: Oliver Acrimony, Sara Covetman, and Lewis Bright. Oliver is the pilot. He steers the ship on paths he hopes will have treasures he can use to give his twin siblings a comfortable and safe life. Sara is the ship's designer/technician. She drew up the plans for this ship and has modified it to keep it flying. This ship is her baby and you best not mistreat it or you will have to answer to Sara and her plethora of tools. The crew's efforts are led by Lewis Bright. By day, he keeps the crew running and commands their attention with his sparkling personality and even more dazzling smile. At night, he captivates everyone's attention by telling stories. 

Wiatt sees Lewis and thinks he is practically glowing. This is definitely the Lost Prince. He is practically a celestial being, he must be meant to lead the kingdom in the sky. (This deduction is totally sound and definitely isn't influenced by his immediate crush, what are you talking about? Look at how he is a natural born leader who definitely didn't have to work to gain his self confidence and the trust of his crew.) Also the one clue Wiatt has is that the prince has brown hair and wears glasses. Since this guy screams prince material, lives in the skies, {and some third thing I forgot because I woke up at 4 today. Maybe that he looks familiar to Wiatt,} Wiatt asks that he take Lewis to these trials and bring the prince back to the Kingdom in the Sky. 

As they fly, Wiatt has to earn his place on the ship. He is appointed Sara's assistant and finds he actually really likes tinkering and doing mechanic/engineering work. Sara and he do not get along at first. There is a rivalry. Also, Wiatt wants to take Lewis away and Sara sees him and Oliver as her closest friends/brothers.

---

This seems like a good stopping point. I have more notes but they bounce around a bit and got disjointed. Low amounts of sleep plus getting up early to see hot air balloons made my adhd at peak performance that day.

Here are some other notes before I close the post off for now:

The group of Lewis, Sara, and Oliver would be called either the Oddity Trio, the Founder Trio, or something that references the word Founder. I don't know if this will even come up in the story.

Sara can fight. She teaches Wiatt to fight. I feel like her fighting style would be more improvised weapons and throwing knives, but also....girls with swords???? Yes???? I don't know if Alyssa is on this crew or if Carly is. 

I just want to have Wiatt and Sara have a training montage where it goes from Sara fighting Wiatt and enjoying having something to lorde over him to him working hard to learn to defend himself to her admiring his tenacity to them bonding and having a sort of rivalry that becomes friendly over time. 

If Carly and Lewis are both the adopted kids of Eric, learning to sword fight is a requirement. Carly tells Wiatt he has to beat her for her to allow him to date Lewis. Wiatt knows that Lewis isn't a prize and this is his call, but he also knows that this is Carly's way of feeling she has control.over the situation. He asks Lewis if he can teach him, but Lewis says that would be cheating to learn through him specifically and tells him to learn through Sara. 

I don't know if Wiatt actually beats Carly, but putting up with Sara that long takes dedication and tenacity. Plus, anyone that can put up with Sara and not leave (or be offed. I don't know if killing happens in this au, but they are maybe sky pirates so...?) is pretty good for Lewis. He's earned her approval.

Wiatt is a refugee from the Kingdom in the Sky. He and his dad left when Wiatt was very young. There is this entity of shadows and stars and magic that I've been calling Dark Horse. I'll go into it more later, but I decided that he is keeping everyone in the kingdom in line by trapping them in a sleep like state. They are all dreaming and the entity has the ability to see into all their dreams and even can turn the dreams into nightmares. When the Dark Horse came about, Owen grabbed his son and ran.

Owen is the one who told Wiatt about the trials.

I am playing with the idea of Lewis having magic and what that magic can do. Maybe he can float, can make himself glow and be more noticeable?

It might be cool to have Wiatt have prophetic dreams or maybe he gets dreams where he sees what is happening in the sky kingdom.

[scififettuccine]

New Sci-Fi Series Interest Check!

Hello! I'm SciFiFettuccine (no that's not my name, just what I write under on the internet) and I'm a writer! I've recently been working on a Sci-Fi series (name TBD) that involves a universe where each planet is a different season! The main storyline will also be heavily based in an lgbt enemies to lovers romance. I wrote a test sample thing to put out some feelers for general interest! I tried to explain anything that isn't explicitly obvious, but I will put a few notes above the sample to give you some background. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more, and if you have any questions at all, feel free to ask on my blog or shoot me a direct message! <3

As promised, here are a few pieces of background you may need during reading!

Æstas: The summer planet! A dry and barren desert wasteland that our main character, Haren, calls home!

Rift Galaxy: The Galaxy in which the series takes place, consisting of 5 planets, a sun, and a moon! Æstas (the summer planet), Ver (the spring planet), Medius (the capital of the galaxy, a cultural melting pot), Autumnus (the fall/autumn planet), and Hiems (the winter planet.)

Eclipse (in terms of the series): A celestial phenomenon that happens ever 10 cycles in the Rift Galaxy.

I'll also give a little breakdown for all characters mentioned, as well as name pronunciation!

Haren: Our 20 year old protagonist from Æstas! He is hot headed and rather opinionated. He stands at around 6'1 and has shoulder length, tightly curled black hair. He has dark, caramel colored skin and bright yellow eyes. Pronounced Hay-Ren.

Hendrax: The father of our protagonist, Hendrax, is calm and level headed. At 56 years of age, he tends to not show his true emotions, and lives by the notion that everything happens for a reason. Hendrax stands at about 5'11 and has short, tightly curled, graying black hair. He shares the same bright yellow eyes as his son, as long as the skin tone, although slightly lighter. Pronounced Hen-Dray-x.

Ci-Cen: The younger sister of our protagonist, and his driving force in advocating for his family. Ci-Cen stands at around 5'3, and has long curly black hair. She shares the same yellow eyes as her father and brother, and is slightly lighter than both of them. Ci-Cen is spunky and energetic, and has a great attitude. She tends to have an altered, more positive outlook on their situation, seeing the glass half full rather than half empty. Pronounced See-Sen.

Cibalt (Last name pronunciation): See-ball-tuh

“Father,” Haren stated, pulling off his head wrap and setting it down on the kitchen table, “the rest of the water…where did it go?” He asked. Hendrax didn’t look up from his tinkering with Ci-Cen’s goggles. A strained silence filled the humid room, and Haren had a feeling there was something wrong.

“Did Ci-Cen use more than her share…? Half of the barrel is gone.” Haren said, seemingly a bit frustrated as he leaned on the table, trying to get his father to meet his gaze. “I mean, we just got the rations today-”

“That's all there is.” Hendrax cut in, picking up a small tube of adhesive from the table and running it along the rim of Ci-Cen’s goggles.

“What do you mean?” Haren asked with narrowed eyes.

“That's all there is, Haren.” Hendrax repeated himself, more firmly this time. Haren reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead, some of the paint rubbing off on the back of his hand. Water rations had always been scarce, usually just enough to make it until the next moon, but this? The barrel was barely half full, and the Cibalt’s were a family of three.

“You registered us as a family of three on your last trip to the capital, correct? Although I don’t see why you would have to, you registered when Ci-Cen was born…Maybe they got our rations mixed up with those of another family?” Haren watched his father intently as he pressed a new pair of lenses into the rim of his sister's goggles.

“No, that's simply the amount we were given. You know how scarce rations get during the eclipse-”

“Because the pricks on Medius use it all for their parties.” Haren cuts in, with a bit of clear disdain in his tone. Hendrax sighed as he picked up the second lens and ran the tip of the adhesive around the empty rim of the goggles once again.

“You know how things are, Haren. That tone of voice is not needed.” His father responded. Haren scoffed, moving to run a hand through his tightly curled black hair before crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“So…what? You’re content in being treated as less than them? As lesser peoples as a whole? That’s barely enough water to get us through the week, let alone the month.” Haren argued. Hendrax pressed the second lens into the glue, his gaze fixed to his current task. Haren continued his rant as he moved to skim through the pile of monthly documents on the table. He found the one he was looking for and moved to stand behind his father, setting it down in front of him. The document clearly listed the amount of rations each family was entitled to depending on the number of residents in the household. He pointed to the line that said “3 persons” hard enough to make a noise against the table. 

“Look. Family of three, one barrel. It is written as such, so shouldn't it be a reality?” Haren noticed that his father wasn't looking, so he took the goggles out of his hand. Hendrax sighed and tried to grab them back.

“Haren-” He said with a sigh, but Haren moved them out of his reach, setting them on the counter.

“Father, why do you sit here and take this treatment? Why do you let the system walk all over you?” Haren asked, his tone discontented.

“You know that our leaders work very hard to keep the living conditions on Æstas stable.” Hendrax states. Haren scoffs.

“Stable? You call half a barrel of water stable? What happens if the temperature spikes again, like it did last month?”

“Then we pray for rain.” Hendrax said, his tone becoming strained. He was clearly getting aggravated with his son.

“Father, there hasn't been a steady storm in over a year. How can you sit there and say that? Aren’t you concerned? Even in the slightest?” Haren followed his father into the kitchen, determined to prove his point.

“I won’t ask you again to watch your tone, Haren.” Hendrax warned as he picked up Ci-Cen’s goggles from the counter, holding them up to the light to see if the glue had dried. Haren could notice how tightly he was gripping the goggles, but nevertheless, he pressed on.

“It is no longer a matter of tone, father! We cannot continue to be treated this way. I’ve heard that even the Flakes are getting more water than we are!” Before Haren could even open his mouth again, Hendrax was holding him by the shoulders, slamming him into the wall.

“Practice what you preach, boy! You will not use such words in this house, especially not around me and your sister! Do you understand me?” Hendrax hisses, his tone deadly. Haren stared into his fathers eyes for a moment, his heart beating out of his chest. He had never seen his father this worked up. Guilt set in as he realized he had clearly crossed a line with the slur. The word Flake was a derogatory term used to refer to the inhabitants of Hiems, the snowy planet. Haren preached planetary equality…what he said was totally against his morals.

“My apologies, father…I don’t know what got into me.” Haren said, his eyes cast down. Hendrax sighed and gave the side of Haren’s head a firm slap, at which Haren winced.

“That is from your mother.” Hendrax said as he ran a hand through his own hair. Haren nodded and rubbed the side of his head slightly.

“That was deserved.” He said quietly.

“I would not have hit you had it not been.”

Well there you go! I hope you enjoyed reading and totally let me know if you'd like to see more of this universe! Like I said, shoot me a dm if you have any questions at all! Adieu!

[hlylight]

what are your dnd headcanons for your muses ?? | @madefate

Sera;

Aasimar, Paladin, Oath of Devotion or Oath of the Watchers. Deeply loyal to her Temple and I would play as her first time leaving its walls on a holy journey. Maybe seeking some lost holy item or wanting to defat some rumored evil. Chaotic Good.

Angel Dust;

Changeling, Gunslinger & Warlock (Fiend). Locked in a bad deal he is on a quest to end it. He will dazzle people trying to turn favors for information and comfort. High Cha and a wisdom based Gunslinger over Int. He is not above cutting deals himself to make ends meet. Lawful Evil.

Lilith;

Reborn Human, Bard, College of Glamour & Warlock (Celestial). Once a normal human, a sudden death has damned her. She cut a contract to come back to life with it being bound with the ring on her finger. She had caught the eye of something ancient and powerful and love has given her a second chance for revenge and power. True Neutral or Lawful Evil.

Stolas and Sloth I see as patrons with Sloth being celestial and Stolas fiend.

Stolas;

Gives his followers access to teleportation and most spells in the Conjuration umbrella. They also have unique insight into the stars and power may wane with the full moon being their peak. He is particular in who he cuts a deal with but once doing so loyal as a patron.

Sloth;

Focuses on artificers and alchemists often cherry picking who to drop an idea into. She makes deals in their dreams then she tortures them by denying them sleep. I can even see a mechanic were exhaustion is a boon to inventing meaning players have to debate on a bonus to tinker tools vs the cons of exhaustion. Often ignores any direct pleas from followers until their task if finished. Then takes the acclaim for it and probably kills you <3

[king-dra]

PRT TORONTO Expanded

whew, do you guys remember the first post i made about this? it feels like its been ages since i did that. anyway, ive been slowly chipping away at the metaphorical marble behind the scenes for a while, when i have the time + energy for it

Since its been a hot minute since the last post, I'll reblog it, and just as before, if you have any questions or want to know more please go ahead and ask!

PROTECTORATE/GUILD

RECURVE: Protectorate Striker/Mover. Partially stores potential energy from his attacks, then expends the stored energy to propel his movements, eventually creating a semi-stable feedback loop of storing vs spending

GRAVEDIRT

A minor local villain team, they work primarily in sabotage, theft and information warfare.

EREBUS: Team leader of Gravedirt, Breaker who can dissipate his body into a gaseous state. shares senses with those who enter the gas, though the more people he senses with, the longer it takes to pull himself back together

ANALOUGE: A Tinker, she specializes in hacking and subterfuge

CORTEXAL: Thinker, hyperactive informational processing abilities.

GROTESQUE: Case 53, has a vaguely draconic body and can breathe a paralytic or soporific gas

INDEPENDANT/OTHERS

ECLIPSE: Another Case 53, with a literal "celestial body," they can serve as a living portal, but the control over the destination isn't very precise. can potentially portal to other earths, haven't decided on their morality yet. maybe a ward?

PLAUGEBEARER: Blaster who throws orbs that cause moderate to severe illness symptoms in people struck. if he is killed while someone is under the effects of his attack, his shard will reconstruct his body from the infected individual's, adding or removing mass as needed (he is unaware of this effect of his power)

PYRE: One of two other members of Seraphim's cluster. His primary power is phantom limb projections, his are larger, more numerous and not limited to human limbs like Seraphim's. His variation on the heat touch is channeled through said limbs, making them hot enough to scar flesh and melt metal. His Brute power takes the form of storing a portion of damage taken as a stockpile, which can be spent in short bursts of rapid regeneration.

[punny0verlord]

PART 2 OF CODESCRAMBLE BITCHES!!!!

So... Where I left off... Y/N basically bought the dca prototypes annnnnd brought them to their(Y/N's) home. After setting everything up in their makeshift workshop in their garage, it's time to tinker!

After many MANY weeks of tinkering, struggling... And a lot of YouTube tutorials...

THE CELESTIAL DUO ARE UP AND RUNNING!

Oh wait... Why are they freaking out? Um... I don't think they are supposed to be freaking out ...or screaming... Uh... I don't think the manual or the notes tells you what to do if these guys start freaking out.

Maybe... You should try calm them down before they hurt themselves or break something...

After many hours of reassurance and explaining... Annnnd possibly an aggressive altercation with some interrogating... The duo seems to be calming down but not on board with trusting you yet. (Well Sun doesn't while Moon seems more willing to trust you)

But... You notice something later on.... Something ain't right here...

Sure you were basically living with these two for what felt like a week after they were reactivated. Trying to assure them that they are safe. And slowly earning their trust while getting to know them better. But what's off to you... Is how the duo behave compared to how they are supposed to act(based on the manuals).

You could chalk it up to their jester/theater bot programming in their systems. Since some of the notes mentioned their original concept was for the theater(before the company changed their mind). But... You had a feeling these two shouldn't be acting so differently THAT much...

The notes say Sun is the more bubbly, happy, sweetheart of the duo... But instead he is more aggressive, slightly unsettlingly, and mischievous. His friendly nature is still there but... For some reason him being friendly sometimes sends shivers down your spine.

While Moon on the other hand... Who was supposed to be a mischievous little trickster who acts like a villain. Or at least takes on some villain-like roles sometimes. He was even stranger than his sunny encounter part, he seems slightly more timid, and very bubbly. But you swear you were going to get diabetes from how sweet he acts. But the mischievous side of him wasn't missing though... A common trait between the brothers apparently lol

But why do they act like this? Was this their original programming before the concept change? Is this why they failed their testing phase? Did you screw something up while tinkering and coding these two? Was there a glitch that screwed up their systems? Was it a glitch at all?

Who knows? Neither you or the robotic duo knows why annnd don't really care(for now). The brothers are happy to not be left somewhere to rot or become scrap metal (But maybe feeling a little bitter about being replaced by something better than them). And you? You basically got two robot roommates to keep you company!

Who could ask for more?

Part 1

[5-7-9]

my Fairytail OC (not self insert for once) would be 1000% holder magic based (SPITE). The catch is their speciality is anything holder magic based because they’re versatile but not because they’re powerful (jack of all trades is a master to none but oftentimes better than. What they specialize in aside from their magic is creation of magical objects (Fairytail kinda never explains the process of creating magical objects. Like, whether or not it requires the usage of magic to create it, or if non-mages can acquire tools to make magical tools. It bothers me). They’re a relic collector kinda like those Treasure Guilds but they’re not a thief or Grave Digger. While they’re at it looking for rare items for their quests, what they’re really after are even more rare objects to keep for themselves to tinker with. See, they also have a job working with Heart Kruez, the department that crafts the armor and weapons rather than designing, plus their favorite customer being Erza of course!

Main magic tools are their “infinity backpack hack” (idk if the worldbuilding rules states that as impossible, but it makes sense to me!). (Y’know, get a backpack to store your backpacks to store your backpacks to store your backpacks-). Power level 1 beginner: They wear a secured metal bracelet around their dominate hand (right-handed) with beads that hold multiple types of elements (usually ones with compatibility) (the attacks come out like the shape of a circle of multiple spheres like their bracelet). They also have requip so they can swap out for another magic tool. Power level 2 medium: A magical staff that can be used for nonmagical combat as well, it can cast larger magic circles (element of magic depending on a big crystal. The crystal is attached to both ends of the staff. Can only use 2 elements at a time. Can be swapped out). Power level 3 max: They also had a similar concept idea to Mystogan with the multiple magic objects to cast large powerful spells (and maybe they’ve even met, idk i haven’t decided).

In my worldbuilding, anybody can gather magic through rituals or tools to create magic items. My character is one of those people that helped invent stronger containers (bag, jar, of the sorts) that can hold any type of magic (unless it’s unstable or whatever). They also invented a better functioning tube/plug/suction🧪🔌🪠 type of thingy that can extract magic from stuff, so it makes it easier to implement that borrowed magic into objects.

my OC absolutely has all sorts of celestial gate keys too. Most of which they don’t use. They also helped make a few of them (i’m assuming silver keys can be made). One of which they personally made was the Pegasus, and they kept that one key for a contract so they sorta count as a celestial wizard (they have no other keys besides that 1).

The constant search for artifacts and magical artifacts has lead to plenty of accidental insight into mysterious magic related lore from Fairytail. OC hopes to cop some of that magical aura those powerful mages have just be being near them oozing power to make special magical tools. (Idk if magic oozes out normally through the air but they have a tool that can do that anyhow). They have managed to do that. Too bad it’s expensive 😭 (it’s too top quality). Had to figure out hiding locations to seal it away so thieves don’t get it. Which, is a prevalent issue, oops. This segues into being “in on the secret” (idk cue in by Jellal??? Whomever knows all the secrets and whatnot???) so that the weapons suddenly become used for whatever the Fairytail plot could’ve used it against idk.

I guess OC needs a personality and backstory… they’re really curious and is a young adult just like the main Fairytail cast. Yeah idk. Magic, y’know? Not characters, y’know? I just thought of this now

[whitepolaris]

The Surge of 1965

Perhaps it was the Cold War. Maybe it was the Space Race. It could have been America's raising counterculture, or possibly The Beatles' recent "invasion." Whatever the cause, it appears that intelligent aliens took a great interest in the United States beginning in the summer of 1965, resulting in one of the largest, if not the largest, swell of UFO sightings in history. And it began right here in Oklahoma.

On July 11, at about 4 a.m., two teenagers who probably shouldn't have been awake at that hour spotted two UFOs flying over the capital city. Possibly the same objects, though their numbers had increased to three, were seen again in the same area by other witnesses the very next day. Nine days later, separate witnesses reported unusual lights in the sky, this time for three full nights in a row. What at first seemed to be mere coincidence started to look like a full-fledged event.

Then things really started to take off. Based on reports starting in late July, Oklahomans were hard-pressed to look up and not see something strange hovering overhead. Objects were spotted both visually and on Air Force radar near Wynnewood. Witnesses in Oklahoma City saw a strange round object with wings drifting close to the ground in the 600 block of NW Sixty-third Street. A man fishing on Lake Hefner said he saw a saucer-shaped craft emerge from the water and fly away. Objects looking much like children's tops began to show up in virtually every major city.

When an officer at Tinker Air Force Base saw something unusual in the sky, he called upon another officer to verify what he had seen. Together, and with the aid of a telescope, the officers confirmed that it could not have been an ordinary celestial body. After all, the craft, which was saucer-shaped and rimmed with pulsing lights, was seen traveling speedily at a forty-five-degree angle and visibly passed in front of observable planets.

Meanwhile, that same night, witnesses all over Oklahoma, as well as many others across the Midwest, marveled at brightly lit objects of various shapes and colors dancing in the night sky. As many as eight at once appeared over Ardmore. They glowed, circled, flickered intensely, and moved in unpredictable patterns, some skipping about and disappearing in a flash, others hovering in place for as much as an hour. Such reports continued throughout the summer and, according to some, didn't really taper off until well into 1967.

Unfortunately, this unprecedented wave of sightings was, on the whole, dismissed by the Air Force, which was responsible at the time for investigating such reports, even though members of their own staff reported having seen UFOs themselves. Oklahomans, however, knew what they saw.

The Smith Photo

Out of the rash of UFO sightings that cropped up in the summer of 1965 came what many consider one of the best photographs of an unidentified object ever taken. Captured by fourteen-year-old Alan Smith, the craft was spotted hovering high above Tulsa on the evening of August 2, or perhaps past midnight on August 3.

The image (shown here) is the second known photo to be taken of an unknown aerial object above Oklahoma and is believed to be the first-ever nighttime photography of a UFO using color film. It depicts a multicolored object displaying segmented areas of red, green, and white light in an otherwise darkened sky. According to young Smith and the four other witnesses who saw the object, it appeared to them as a blob of light that shifted in color, although the photo seemed to reveal more detail. According to various reports, the object traveled from east to west, at one point apparently moving toward the witnesses and emitted a faint, high-pitched whine.

Skeptics have somewhat convincingly compared the shape of the object to a type of Christmas decoration popular at the time, which was basically a light with a rotating wheel of colored filters. They insist that it was an underexposed shot taken around the holidays. Numerous photographic experts, however, have determined the image to be authentic, and the photo, which has been published in numerous books and newspapers, as well as in Life magazine, remains one of the most intriguing UFO images ever captured.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Advent Calendar: Day 23 @tangleweave​

Beth promises whatever divine being might still care enough to listen that somehow, some day, she will repay Skutt with the respect and admiration she deserves. Oh, Beth knows the ship is a non-gendered entity, but the voice she hears, then manifestation in her mind that comes with it has certain very feminine traits. But more to the point, Skutt has been very kind in helping her work away right behind, around, and sometimes under Bill. Skutt has covered for her, has helped her cannibalise and repurpose some of the Borealis, and has helped her settle into the generous quarters that Bill has offered her for the duration of her stay. Day or night ~her diurnal clock is now off and she’s not really sure how Time flows without being able to really perceive it as she can other things~ she’s tinkered away in her rooms and with fortuitous warnings from the ship, she’s largely been able to conceal her work from Bill. And as she thinks of it that way, she realises how sinister that sounds. Like she’s some kind of horrible Mata-Hari or other saboteur, when in reality Beth is simply trying to surprise Bill with a sliver of her homeworld. She doesn’t know how to explain the hole deep in the pit of her soul that aches for what she’s missing who knows how far away she is from her cabal, her family. It would also seem so insensitive even if she could find the right words, considering his entire world is gone and everyone he’s ever known or might come to know are in cold storage for lack of a better phrase, as gone from him as her ohana is from her. She doesn’t know what Korbin was like. To hear Bill tell it, she imagines it might now be something like the Mars that the astronomers talk about which is vastly different from how the Traditions view it. She also imagines that once it was more like Mars as the shade realm of Forces. Once inhabited, Mars has a penumbra, where one can easily see the ruins of canals running along old ley lines. But the air is thin now and severe dust storms are a hazard that can trap or kill the unwary. She doesn’t know what became of the Martians, but now the chantry of Doissetep has overtaken the ruins of the largest city. In an effort to study and preserve what remains, both the Etherites and oddly the Dreamspeakers have established a separate colony, Marsbase One, known better as Bradbury. Then, on the moon Phobos there’s a small defensive installation, there to prevent Technocracy infiltration. Maybe when they find a way for her to get home, the chantry might allow Bill’s people citizenship. Maybe they can share secrets and trade technology, and just maybe…Bill and his people can really go home and reclaim their world. Yes, that’s a lot of maybes, but Beth is nothing if not a creature of hope. But that’s an absolute digression. She had been wondering though if he has experienced the changing of seasons, if he’s ever celebrated them? If he’ll even understand the little plateau she’s about to reveal with a fire burning merrily in digital, or how the console lights gleam like the ones on Christmas trees back home. Will he try to put the empty stockings on, or does he have something similar? She’s not sure but she’s excited to find out. Doing her level best, there’s fresh fruit she’s grown ~at an accelerated rate, yes, but it’s the thought that counts~ and some sweets that Skutt has replicated, swearing they’re Bill’s favourites. At least a couple of them are blue and unnaturally so. She’s knitted Bill a large stuffed teddy bear so that he doesn’t feel so quite alone at night, and that is in the single wrapped and ribboned box on the metal tree made from scraps and wires with a wonky little star that looks more pentacle than celestial body. Bristling with excitement and joy, she grins. “Okay, we’re here and you can uncover ya eyes now.” When he does and looks on the little corner of her quarters, she presses her cheek into one of his massive arms, little fingers squeezing where they land. “As we say back home? Mele Kalikimaka, Bill of Korbin!”

[keimisan]

↪ special to me - s. sano

- in which shinichiro sano awaits his twenty first rejection.

pairing: shinichiro sano x fem!reader

warning(s): not proofread! baji keisuke taught emma whats balls meant, not really but he did lmao.

"there's him and there's his friend- behind my back! and they didn't even realize i was there."

you're fuming and vigilantly spilling out your mind as you sit on one of the bench chairs, lifting one leg atop to the other; watching less than attentively how your long-term friend tinkers with the bike, his cream tracksuit smeared with grime.

shinichiro wasn't a college guy, he was rather busy with his motobike shop- which you wholeheartedly supported. but sometimes, you can't but wish that he was there with you when you walked to your college building, there with you to experience the tiresome classes and the never-ending projects, and admittedly, there with you when a bunch of random guys decided to hit on you, that too, after spewing a sea of shit-talks about the same you.

"then they acted like nothing happened and said that i was hot, it's an incredible switch of personalities honestly. how can you bitch about someone and immediately flirt with them." you exclaim, swaying your hand on the bench-top, agitated. but the boy you'd come to for a breath of respite seems rather ignorant of you, having no reaction to your constant trumpets.

and you can’t differ, you were a bit offended when he blew a raspberry on your rants- he usually never did that.

"you're not listening," you apprise.

the sound of metal against metal resonates louder than when he replies, "but i am," completely off with his voice and conduct.

"then why are you not saying anything?"

a tuft of regret creeps into you, thinking that he must've been tired of your persistent complaints after all this time. you mean, it really could get tiring when he can't gossip with you since all you were on about these days was your college life and daily drama.

"it's alright if you don't want to listen to me-"

"i really like you, alright? i like listening to you but don't say stuff like that in front of me, it makes me jealous," shinichiro loudly tightens a screw into the vehicle, beads of perspiration dripping down the side of his face.

but what the fuck?

your eyes are wide like a goldfish and mouth agape like a volatile breed of dog as you exclaim, "wait, w-what? you like who?"

and you almost trip out of your shoes when he replies, "you obviously."

no way.

while you're busy being astonished with your brain running at a thousand miles per hour, shinichiro moves onto another bike, the metal of his hand clashing with the brake levers as he tightens the bleeder screw, "now, before you reject me and make me reach a milestone of twenty one consecutive rejections-"

"you idiot!"

shinichiro jolts out of his skin, his entire organism undergoing a passive shudder as he replies, "well, that's an aggressive approach to rejection. calm down, y/n, i'll take it back-"

"you fucking dork!"

you're picking up a stray metal tool and striding towards him at a petulant pace. it scares the living soul out of him, nonetheless shinichiro couldn't help but notice the sprinkles of domesticity in how you're after his ass, that too- with smoke radiating off of your head; or maybe that's just his imagination, he surmises.

"alright, fine! i don't like you, slow down, slow down," he lifts his arms up in surrender, eyes squinting with your approaching silhouette.

"you absolute arse!"

shinichiro's eyes widen with the rubicund that freckles on your skin, embellishing your skin in the most celestial hue. your dainty fingers press tauter on the unclean metal, and shinichiro backs the fuck down.

"who said i was going to reject you!" you yell at him, his head leaning back on impulse as he peers at you in horror.

"the twenty other girls who rejected me?"

the way you click your tongue is menacing, but shinichiro notes the cutesy details of your tongue mocking him, of your teeth that slide against the wet flesh of your lips, he notes the minutiae attributes of your livid lips at such a close distance; he could shut you up with a kiss, he thinks.

"oh so now i'm other girls, huh? is that how you see me?"

shinichiro backs the fuck down again, "of course not-"

"shut up!"

"yes, okay."

you lean back, your pouty lips ghosting over each other as you slowly keep the heavy tool down. but shinichiro's momentary peace comes down with you jabbing your pointer finger at his chest, voice preferably low, "there's no way i can reject you when i've liked you for four-damn-years, mr. sano shinichiro! you're always chasing other girls and always sulking about how no one wants to date you- while i was always listening to you rant about it and being able to do nothing because i knew you'd never like me!"

the latter's brows link together, "wait, that what I thought."

you couldn't believe it. being oblivious was one thing, but there was a very evident vacancy in your love life that he's sure to have noticed. and you, someone known infamously as his right-arm buddy, liked him just so much that, "have you ever seen me go after another guy? have i ever liked anyone else? no, so how can you think that."

"but, you've never shown interest in me either."

that has your lips stuttering close. he's right, you've never acted more than friends with him, even avoided the friendly acts of a hug or casual touches. so you’ve never given him the impression, probably. a redder blush coats your cheeks, as you prepare yourself for the words you never thought you'd confess, "that's because," you pause, giving him a skeptical look, "that's because you're always after those pretty girls who wear skimpy clothes and i'm just me. i'm not fancy like them, nor am i pretty like them."

"but you're prettier!" shinichiro's quick with his reply as you finish your sentence, a little lace of guilt carving his throat. he takes a small pause, and then takes two steps close to you, looking at you with an intensity you can't turn away from, "you know why most of them rejected me, y/n?"

he takes one of your hands into his cleaner one, gliding his fingers through your bonny gaps and interweaving your hands together, "they said i was in love with someone else. they said they didn't want me because i wasn't genuine with them," he brings your hands above his lips, his dulcet words and supple breaths tickling over your nails, "those girls aren't special to me, you are."

and then, he presses a chaste kiss on your knuckles, his gazing dark eyes as pretty as a picture, "i like you, y/n. will you give me chance?"

you wondered if he'd courted the other girls with this same dreamy look and lilting words; because how could they reject him when your eyes were watery with tears coursing and nipping from deep within. "you dummy-"

before you could finish, a bunch of childish voices surrounded the walls, much courtesy to your breached privacy that was now being shared by the little rascals.

"BRO CONFESSED HAHA."

"I KNEW HE HAD THE BALLS-"

"no, emma where did you learn that?"

"baji keisuke."

shinichiro looked about to leave it all with his eyes straightened in a line, his hands dangling below his hips with no hope, he laments, "didn't even let me have my damn moment."

"you naughty kids, come here!"

your far-long crush now darted after his siblings in applied hurry, not before shooting you an oh-so-flustering wink you'd never even flinched at. and you laugh, having dissolved the reality that the girl-craze shinichiro sano finally didn't get the same indiscriminate words slapped into his cheeks and finally, didn't get rejected to complete his twenty-first rejection milestone.

"wait for me, y/n!"

[shootsun]

Stuck in the Shadows With You

I have no idea what part we're on now lads, but here we go!!!

--------------

The first thing he does is take the bracelet to Zhīzhū, banking on an old favour.

Macaque visits the spider demon up in the middle of the night, and she opens the door with a bang, her hair hanging in a curtain in front of her face. 

“I’m going to kill you.” She hisses out, and he laughs as he embraces her.

“Sorry for ruining your beauty sleep, your majesty.” Macaque grins, and she swats at him lazily with her cane, a dark steel coloured thing with violet webbing etched up the body.

“Not that I need more beauty, but I have eaten demons for less.” Zhīzhū huffs, running her fingers through her hair, and then gestures for him to enter. 

“I’m so scared.” He follows her into her lair, and flickering green torches ignite ahead of them, illuminating the corridor.

They settle into the kitchen, him sitting on one of the stone countertops, and her lounging on one of the several stools scattered about the spacious area.

“Why are you here? Did you and Wukong finally fight? Or maybe you two-” She wiggles her eyebrows as she leans forward.

“No, not-” Macaque scowls and waves away the insinuation. “Just the fighting one.”

“Uh-huh.” Zhīzhū laughs, settling back into her stool with a smug look.

“No, no, don’t look at me like that.” He grimaces and pulls the glowing bracelet from his pocket. It warms his palm as he holds it, and already, he’s tempted to delve into the power well.

“See, I came here because of this.” The bracelet jangles in his grip, and Zhīzhū hums as her eyes narrow.

“Hmmm.” She holds out her hand, and he tosses it to her.

“This is…surprisingly new.” The spider demon tilts her head as she inspects the artifact. “Someone’s been tinkering with mixing demon and divine essence.” 

“And you can tell how?” Macaque raises an eyebrow.

“I’m an alchemist, a potions master of the highest degree -”

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry I asked.”

Zhīzhū twists the bracelet between her fingers for a few more moments with a small frown before she sighs and tosses it back to him. 

“As best I can tell, it’s like a power boost; a small well of energy for the wearer. But I don’t know how much is in it, and I’m… a little weary on how to suggest refilling it.” She doesn’t look at him, but rather the bracelet the entire time, something brewing behind her eyes.

“What else?” Macaque prods. He slips the bracelet on, and he can feel magic seep into his bones.

“It might be a voluntary thing…but the way the magic is contained…” She hesitates, chewing on her lip.

“I think it might be the entire essence of a few demonic and divine entities.” 

“Ah. Dead people bracelet. Got it.” Macaque nods, even as a twinge of disgust drips down his spine, and Zhīzhū scowls and shakes her head.

“You idiot.” She chides.

“What? They’re already dead, and I’d rather like not to be.” He shrugs. 

Her face twists, but she sighs after a few moments. 

“Just be careful, I don’t know how long it’ll last,” She warns.

He grins, and with a final goodbye, slips back to his dojo.

The bracelet lasts him a week. A singular Wukong-free week of rampaging, tearing through the demon underground, repaying old favours and trying to destroy anyone who so much as breathes in MK's direction. 

He's in the middle of interrogating yet another faceless whimpering demon when the bracelet flickers for the first time, and he feels his heart sink when the green light dims slightly. 

"I don't know, the three eyed celestial told boss, and we-"

"Three eyed celestial?" His attention snaps back up to the demon, and his captive flinches.

“No?” The demon weakly lies, and Macaque scoffs. 

“If you’re not going to talk to me, I suppose I can just call up the Monkey King and his successor, see if you won’t spill your guts to them.” Macaque says, a false sweetness coating his words, as he brushes his claws against the demon’s abdomen. 

“No! No, I mean-” The demon swallows nervously, and Macaque can see beads of sweat roll down the side of his face before the demon continues.

"He…he came with his dog and told us to cause trouble, for you, for the kid, anything to distract the Monkey King from the affairs of heaven. If we did, he promised us powerful weapons and riches."

"Of course, he did." Macaque scowls and leans back, drumming his fingers on his arm. 

"I can't let you leave," he decides, and the demon jerks in his chair, fruitlessly straining against his bonds before outright fainting. 

"Huh." Macaque blinks, and drags the chair to his guest room and leaves the demon there, not bothering to untie him.

It's only a short trip from his dojo to the noodle shop: he's still avoiding Wukong, but he and the kid should probably still be told about Heaven's interference.

"Whaddaya want Mac?" The pig growls out, and he makes a face at MK's guardian. 

"Firstly, It's Macaque. Secondly, I need to talk to the kid.” He tries and fails to not glare at Pigsy, and the chef raises an unimpressed eyebrow.

“Well, ya just missed him. He’s off on Flower Fruit Mountain, trainin’.” 

“What is he even training for?” Macaque mutters, and the pig demon stiffens before advancing towards him with a ladle held threateningly. 

“I might not trust Wukong on a lotta things, but his main concern is MK’s safety, and that’s more than I can say for you.” There’s a flash of tusk accompanying the statement, and Macaque just scoffs.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he sneers, and steps backwards onto the shadows just to watch the glimmer of fear spark in the other’s eyes.  He emerges from the shadows on the roof of the shop across the street, sighs, and settles in for the wait. 

@winterpower98

On AO3

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[lume-nescence]

Ethereal Nights

Albedo x Gn!Reader

summary: painting a beautiful night sky is inspirational! and you are the main star :D

an: wooo last day of school! and i made this while listening to a guitar cover of pluto projector! i’ve written this in drabble form because i procrastinated for too long on this and it feels nice to write it this way. i swear my brain is just thinking about night skies and that alone because they are p r e t t y

pronouns: you/your

genre: fluff, drabble

As you stepped outside of Albedo’s abode to gaze up at the luminous night sky, your eyes lit up at the breathtaking view. A river of stars, embedded amongst the skies. A celestial sight to behold, one that someone wishes to see for themselves.

You’ve never seen Dragonspine look this beautiful especially when it’s during the night hours. You haven’t been traveling to Dragonspine as much, since it’s been labeled as a dangerous habitat by many others. But nonetheless you decided to venture there to visit Albedo. And he’s fond of your company.

He’s usually in his little haven alone, to tinker with his vials and such. Even painting when he doesn’t have anything to do. Having you here makes him feel less lonely up in the cold mountains. He’s deeply grateful you went out of your way to visit him, he really is.

During daylight, the winds would pick up harshly; the calamity of monsters scattered across the area. The lawachurls, scaring whoever dares to go through its path. The monsters plus the chilling temperatures drive many adventurers out, as they don’t wish to deal with something as daunting as that.

But during nightfall, it’s the complete opposite. Everything’s at peace. The winds would reduce to mere breezes and the monsters are not to be found. It’s odd, but noticing how deep into the night it is as of now you understood why. Maybe they too want to admire the skies?

“Ah, the stars, they are truly marvelous at this time of night.” You turned your head towards the alchemist Albedo. Standing in front of his blank canvas with his art materials laid next to him at the ready. Pondering about what he’ll paint.

Oh, how the moonlight shines upon his figure, radiating a cool shade of midnight blue. The moon did you a service for shedding light onto you both, adding an aesthetic feel to it. The peacefulness accompanied it as well.

Taking in the night skies is a great starter for one’s painting, and that’ll be Albedo’s inspiration for his painting. With you, along with it.