#okay i cheated a bit

[jinxedruby]

Linktober Day Sixteen: Time

The companion piece for Whumptober day fifteen (previous part link will take you there)

First part | <- Previous part | Next part ->

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Results from the ‘Who is the tallest MDZS Character poll! Thank you all for voting!

[markscherz]

Oh you like frogs? Name every frog then

Current tally: 90 (1.18% of all described frogs)

[leopardom]

Joker Out through the years + music videos

Nace Jordan

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 4

Here's everything I shared during the ask game event with some minor edits. Most of the edits are around the results of the scan, I more accurately described what I was trying to say.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

Arc 1: First, Last

Arc 2: First, Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

Frostbite looked between them and hummed. “I should like a blood sample from you”—he nodded to Jason—“and an ectoplasm sample from you”—he indicated the ghost—“please hold out one of your arms.”

Jason sighed and gave his left arm. The yeti took out a syringe, thankfully a normal sized one, though it looked tiny in his giant hands. He watched as Frostbite carefully pierced his vein and filled a vial with blood. It went as smoothly as any blood draw he’d ever received from Dr. Thompkins or Alfred.

“You’re good at that,” he commented.

The yeti gave him an amused look. “I should hope so. I have been a doctor for many times longer than you’ve been alive.”

Jason flushed. “Sorry, it’s just… I wasn’t sure how many living patients you’ve ever had.”

“Many ghosts come to us for healing. And of those who were once alive, their ghostly bodies often mimic the ones they had in life. It is not so different, drawing blood from a living body as it is drawing ectoplasm from a ghostly one.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. I didn’t realize.”

Frostbite ruffled his hair and it took every ounce of self control he had to not pull away. “That is quite all right. You will learn in time.”

Jason had to bite his tongue to keep from saying he didn’t want to learn.

But the doctor was already turning to the interloper and reaching for his arm. Jason couldn’t help but watch as they made more of those chirps and trills at each other. The ones from Frostbite were much deeper than the ones from Danny or the ghost, but they were unmistakably the same sort of noises.

When Frostbite took the ectoplasm sample, it really didn’t look any different than a normal blood draw. Except the resulting fluid was bright Lazarus-green. He shuddered and looked away.

Frostbite pulled out what looked like a transparent tablet and typed something on it. “A technician will be along shortly to collect the samples and run a few tests on them. Now, Prince Phantom said he scanned you and it showed the two of you are tied together. I should like to repeat the process but with our own scanners.”

“What do your scanners do?” asked Jason.

“I will show you. See this machine?” Frostbite indicated a machine that was positioned in the corner of the room. It looked like an old-fashioned x-ray machine you might find at a dentists’ office. It was about the size of a standing shower and was mostly open. “This part here”—he touched a piece of metal that reached from floor to ceiling—“will circle around the two of you and track your ectoplasm. It serves a similar purpose in ghost anatomy to an x-ray of a human. From the readings, I will be able to assess your core, young Robin, and your liminality, Sir Jason.”

“Just Jason, please.”

“Are you not a warrior of your people? And you are courting Princess Jasmine. No, to call you anything else would be improper.”

Jason flushed. “Then what should I call you? Aren’t you the leader here? Is it King Frostbite?”

“You may call me Doctor or Chief Frostbite should you wish.”

“You’ve got it, Dr. Frostbite. So will you have to scan us together? Doesn’t look like there’s a lot of room in there.”

Frostbite hummed. “I believe three full scans, one of each of you alone and one with both of you together. I apologize for the size; this is the first time we’ve had to scan two individuals together like this.”

Jason scowled, but didn’t comment. He would do anything to get rid of the interloper.

Before they could start, however, a knock sounded on the door. Frostbite opened it to reveal two more yetis.

“Ah, Silverclaw and Snowfur. Thank you for getting here so quickly.” He grabbed the vials of blood and ectoplasm. “These are the samples I want tested.”

“Of course, Chief. We’ll get to work on them right away.”

“I know you will. Thank you.” Frostbite nodded his farewell. Once the two yetis had left, he shut the door and turned back to Jason and the ghost. “Which of you would like to get scanned first?”

Before Jason could even think of volunteering, the ghost let out a trill and flew to the machine.

Frostbite chuckled. “Very well, young one. I shall begin the process shortly. Please remain still as the scan is in progress.”

Jason watched, curious, as Frostbite pressed a few buttons. The machine whirred to life, blue lines lighting up along the metal. Then the panel Frostbite had pointed out before slowly rotated around the ghost. Five times it completed the circuit before stopping in it’s original position by the wall.

A screen lit up on the wall, also transparent like the tablet, and on it images very much like a human x-ray appeared. Only instead of bones, it showed a ball of red-orange light. Tendrils spread out in the shape of a humanoid body. A thick cord of light extended off the screen. The cord was mostly gray and it’s tendrils wound around the red-orange ball and mixed in with the branches that made up the rest of the ghost’s body.

Frostbite hummed, but didn’t comment further, and Jason didn’t know him well enough to know if it was a good or bad hum. “Sir Jason, it is your turn.”

The ghost flew out of the scanner and Jason entered. “Will it feel like anything?”

The doctor shook his head. “Indeed not. You may hear a humming, but the scan itself will not affect you in any other way.”

“So I just need to stand here for a minute while it goes?”

“Indeed. Simply remain still. Are you ready?”

Jason took a deep breath and stood tall, arms by his side. “Go ahead.”

Frostbite hit a button and the device lit up with the same blue light he’d seen before. Then the scanner began rotating around him. As the yeti had promised, he didn’t feel anything but the hum of the machine.

And soon enough, it settled back into its rest position.

Jason didn’t wait for permission before stepping out and taking a look at the results of the scan. The same cord of light that had been coming off the ghost seemed to be stretching to him. Tendrils of it wrapped around the areas where his heart and brain would be if the scan showed human organs. Thinner tendrils stretched through the rest of his body, but the majority clustered around his heart and brain. His light was mostly gray with the red and orange bleeding in.

Chills ran down his spine. The ghost had integrated himself entirely into Jason’s body. Would it even be possible to get rid of him without killing himself? But could he go on living knowing that the interloper, no, the parasite was tied so closely to him? He’d finally started to move on from his death and the anger!

“Calm down, Sir Jason.” Frostbite’s steady voice cut through his thoughts. “We have one more scan and then I shall explain my theories as to what is going on and how we might address the situation.”

Jason gave a single nod and unclenched his fists. He closed his eyes and took a few seconds to go through a breathing exercise Jazz had taught him. “Fine,” he said when he was sure he wouldn’t start throwing out cursed.

Didn’t stop him from stomping over to the scanner.

Frostbite rested one giant paw on his head for a moment. “I understand this is a lot for you. But I will assist you to the best of my abilities.” He glanced away from Jason towards the interloper. “Both of you.”

Jason frowned but didn’t bother mentioning that that was what he was worried about.

“Now, young Robin. If you could come here as well.”

Frostbite took a moment arranging Jason and the ghost within the scanner. This was the closest Jason had been to the interloper since he learned about his existence and the proximity raised goosebumps on his arm. Why did things like this always have to happen to him? He hated it. He just wanted to go back to arguing with Bruce and trading insults with Tim and pranking Dick. But he couldn’t do that if the ghost of who he’d used to be was following him everywhere.

Jason closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the creature’s stupid uniform or too-young face.

Then the humming started again and Jason could only assume he the scanner was running. He held entirely still, both because the scanner needed it and because he and the ghost were so close that if he moved, they might brush arms or touch.

He held back a shudder and didn’t open his eyes until the humming had stopped.

He couldn’t have said who evacuated the scanner first, they both rushed out quickly and set themselves up on either side of Frostbite while the image loaded.

As predicted, it was as if the two previous scans had been put together. The cord connecting Jason and the ghost was thick and strong. It originated from what Jason could only assume was the ghost’s core and spread out until it latched onto Jason’s brain and heart.

Frostbite hummed again. “I will need to ask both of you some questions that you may not want to answer. I apologize in advance for any discomfort my questions may cause. But let us get comfortable first. Afterwards, I shall explain my suspicions.”

Jason nodded and took a seat on the examination bed that Frostbite gestured to. Robin crossed his legs and appeared to sit in midair. The doctor pulled up a chair for himself and settled in.

Even sitting and with Jason on a high bed, they were roughly eye-to-eye due to the yeti’s large size.

“Young Robin, what do you remember of the time between your death and Sir Jason’s resurrection?”

The ghost, of course, only replied in the trilling language, leaving Jason out of the conversation. Asshole could’ve signed if he wanted to. Jason bit his tongue to keep from saying anything, though.

After a time, Frostbite nodded and turned to Jason. “And now, Sir Jason, I must know how you were brought back to life.”

-----

Ah, Jason really isn't going to like this conversation. None of it is fun, but this conversation will be his least favorite.

And look at Robin being just as petty back! Refusing to bring Jason in on the conversation.

How will they move forward from this?

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[x-i-l-verify]

Linked Universe Daemon AU Headcanons

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 1: The concept of daemons is borrowed from the His Dark Materials series. A daemon is a person’s soul manifested outside of their body in a tangible, physical form, which permanently settles into the form of the animal that most resembles them in character as the individual matures. Person and daemon are not separate beings, but two halves of one mental coin, which means that they each know everything the other does, thinks, and senses. Daemons are almost always the opposite gender of their person and have a distinct personality than the person to a certain degree, as person and daemon represent different aspects of the same whole. Touching someone’s daemon without their permission is taboo, considered a violation tantamount to rape in most cultures.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 2: All Links have the same name for their daemon: Ellanharai (composed of the Old German elements ellan “courage” and heri “army”). However, because all the Links are their own person, their daemon’s form settles on something different with each incarnation. Just as the Links in the Chain go by different titles to differentiate them all, so, too, do their daemons. Links tend to settle early (12-13 years), as they generally know who they are and what they want from a young age.

WORLDBUILDING NOTE 3: The Dark World/Twili crystal magic combines someone and their daemon into one physical body. This new body has the form of the daemon but the gender of the person with size alterations or different markings/coloration and is controlled by the person, with the daemon part of their mind taking a backseat. For example, Legend is larger as a rabbit than his daemon usually is, and of course, her natural color is not bright pink. The lingering effects of this transformation only physically affect the person side of the person/daemon pair once they are returned to normal. 

---

SKY + PSALM (RED-CROWNED CRANE)

Red-crowned cranes are renowned for their lasting and affectionate pair bonds, having come to represent longevity and devotion in many cultures; they are cooperative and low-aggression birds, quite tolerant and relaxed around other animals, and only really become territorial and protective over their nesting sites and chicks.

Psalm is impatient, mischievous, and fierce. Sky is more easygoing, considerate, and gentle.

Sky and Psalm are very outwardly affectionate with each other, and both can often be found napping together in a patch of sunlight, Psalm resting her head in Sky’s lap or draping a wing over him. As the physically tallest daemon of the bunch, Psalm delights in teasing fawning over her smaller daemon sisters, especially the younger ones. She will often sit on someone and happily brood, and while some may outwardly protest, everyone secretly enjoys it.

---

FOUR + RHYME (ITALIAN HEBRAN HONEYBEE)

Four's daemon is an industrious, adaptable, cooperative, sociable species of honeybee, known for being assertive but not aggressive insects; they have a high threshold for what they consider threats, and will communicate using pheromones, body language, and vocalizations to make themselves as clearly understood as possible, but they will not hesitate to defend themselves if something is deemed a threat.

Four is empathetic, observant, passionate, and composed. Rhyme is the emotional, pragmatic, impulsive, competitive part of his personality.

Rhyme is usually kept in a protective case Four wears around his neck to prevent any harm from coming to her either in battle or out of it, due to her diminutive size, but he will happily let her out to stretch her wings when around people he trusts. While she is too small to outright cuddle with her sisters, Rhyme loves perching on their heads or burrowing into feathers or fur when it’s chilly, and she’s surprisingly expressive with her body language, though one might have to squint to see it.

When Four splits into his Colors, Rhyme also splits. Which means instead of one being in two bodies, they’re now one being in eight bodies. As in LU canon, none of the Colors is their own individual in this AU, merely a fraction of a larger whole. In turn, each iteration of Rhyme is an alternate part of each of the Colors, with Four’s soul fragmenting into smaller and smaller individual pieces the deeper you go down.

---

TIME + MELODY (SPANISH FARON MASTIFF)

While menacing in appearance due to their sheer size and bulk, Spanish mastiffs are actually known for being protective, affectionate, quiet dogs, with a long history of guarding livestock; they are patient, easygoing, and surprisingly playful, good with children and tolerant of other animals, though their strong wills and stubbornness make them a challenge to handle for first-time dog owners.

Time is authoritative, jaded, and stoic, while Melody embodies his nurturing, hopeful, mischievous side.

Melody can often be found at Time’s side with one of his hands resting on her head or back. As the largest daemon in the group paired with the tallest person, they make for quite the intimidating pair and are downright deadly in battle together. Outside of battle, though, Melody becomes a big teddy bear, utterly content to let her daughters sisters use her as a pillow or mode of transportation, quietly communicating all the warm care and tenderness Time is sometimes too awkward to openly express. She is the one who introduced the musical motif the other Ellanharais also adopted when coming up with nicknames for themselves.

---

TWILIGHT + ARIA (GRAY WOLF)

Twilight’s daemon is a social, cooperative, dedicated apex predator, who routinely work together to raise their young, defend their territories, and chase down their prey over vast distances; they are not overly aggressive and prefer to avoid conflict whenever they can, using body language, sent marking, and howling to diffuse tense situations and prevent costly fights between packs or individuals.

Twilight is focused, cautious, and opinionated. Aria is his easygoing, empathetic, people-pleasing side.

Aria instantly adopts most of the younger daemons in the group and dotes on them as much as they’ll allow. However, she turns into a big, besotted puppy whenever Time and Melody come into the picture and becomes adorably bashful around Malon’s pigeon daemon Rosamu. She is often found at Twilights right side, guarding his flank and watching his back while he focuses his attention on what’s in front of him. She also loves scritches and belly rubs and has nearly smothered Twilight more than once by sprawling on top of him too heavily while they sleep. While their initial transformation into Wolfie was traumatic and scarring at first, they have both grown to enjoy the occasional opportunity to truly travel, fight, and exist as one.

---

WILD + TRILL (WEDGE-TAILED EAGLE)

Wild’s daemon is a loyal, resourceful, resilient species of raptor that is often found alone or in monogamous pairs, but will freely cooperate together with groups of up to 15 other eagles to take down larger prey; they are straightforward and communicative with their vocalizations and displays and also surprisingly playful, wrestling or playing food games with each other.

Trill is Wild’s dutiful, reserved, focused side, while Wild is the impulsive, playful, lackadaisical side.

Trill is rather choosy with and to whom she shows open affection. She can be very standoffish, preferring to let Wild do the talking for both of them, but once she trusts someone, she will often become very chatty and physically affectionate. It is common to see her riding around or napping on Aria's back, but she has begun opening up more to the others as well.

Because Wild lost all his memories in the Shrine of Resurrection, Trill had become unsettled when they finally woke up, taking the most basic shape a daemon can take, normally only seen with very young children: a small, floating, glowing ball of golden Dust. As they regained their memories during Wild’s quest and discovered more about themselves, Trill began taking on some of their old favored forms before eventually resettling for good as her original settled form, the wedge-tailed eagle. Despite physically being the same, though, there’s still that distance between who they are now and who they used to be, most evident in how their personalities have seemed to switch; Wild used to be more serious, focused, and responsible, and Trill used to embody the impulsivity, rowdiness, and wanderlust he kept tightly tamped down for the sake of duty and appearances. Both of them are still coming to terms with how much they have changed.

---

LEGEND + LYRIC (EUROPEAN HYLIAN RABBIT)

Legend's daemon settled as a hardy, wary, sociable, territorial species of rabbit, able to survive and thrive in almost any environment; they are a keystone prey species, a vital part of almost any ecosystem they find themselves in, who must stay ever vigilant and rely on their speed, wits, and determination to stay alive.

Legend is blunt, private, and practical, while Lyric is the sensitive, sociable, sentimental side of him.

Legend has… a complicated relationship with his daemon’s form. He initially hides her away from the rest of the Chain out of paranoia and insecurity, keeping her in his pack at all times. What would Hyrule they think of the renowned Hero of Legend having a defenseless, soft little rabbit as a daemon? They would lose all respect for him, or worse, be disappointed. It isn’t until after the Twili crystal incident, and Twilight and Sky find out about Lyric’s form, that he starts to come out of his shell.

After the ice has been broken, Lyric leaps at the chance to interact with the other deamons more. She goads Aria or even Melody into games of chase, can finally properly pounce on Warriors’ daemon the next time she teases her, curls up into a little fuzzy ball with Hyrule’s daemon to nap, leaps up on Trill or Psalm or Wind’s daemon’s backs and coax them into giving her a ride, and holds Rhyme in her little paws to gloat that she finally knows a daemon smaller than her (Rhyme is not amused). She is the one who came up with the name for their group of daemons, which is a chorus, just like a group of Links is a chain.

---

HYRULE + CADENCE (YELLOW-BELLIED GLIDER)

Hyrule’s daemon is a small, nocturnal glider species that is selectively social, close-bonding, and expressive, utilizing a number of chirps, whirrs, whistles, and growls to keep away intruders and keep tabs on each other; yellow-bellied gliders are incredibly active, hard-working creatures, spending up to 90% of their time awake foraging, and they can travel up to 2 kilometers in just 4 hours through a combination of climbing and gliding.

Hyrule is independent, wary, and agreeable. Cadence represents his dependent, connected, feisty side.

Cadence is generally quite a skittish daemon, who can normally be found clinging wide-eyed to Hyrule’s back, shoulders, chest, or arms, or hidden inside his tunic or pack. She has not interacted closely with many other daemons in her time (fairies do not have daemons), so she is still getting used to the physical affection the others offer. She does not dislike it; it is simply a lot. But she is gradually learning to love being nuzzled, cuddled, and carried, and she greatly enjoys riding around on the other larger daemons.

---

WIND + SHANTY (MILITARY MACAW)

Wind settled just a couple months before the events of Linked Universe as a resourceful, gregarious, deeply loyal species of macaw; like all macaws, they can be quite loud, communicative, and expressive, and they have generally been described as having friendly, confident, playful dispositions, albeit with the occasional temperamental mood swing.

Shanty is Wind's meticulous, perceptive, down-to-earth side, while Wind is reckless, curious, and carefree.

As is befitting for a parrot daemon, Shanty spends much of her time perched on Wind’s shoulders or arms, though she does love being held and cuddled, too. She is still getting used to her settled form, and sometimes forgets she cannot shift like she once did, leading to some hilarious mishaps when she faceplanted on the ground trying to turn into a hermit crab, or one memorable instance where she nearly drowned while trying to become a yellowtail snapper. She gets very starry-eyed over the other demons and thinks all of them are the coolest for different reasons. She desperately wants to impress them and prove she’s just as badass as they are, so she can sometimes chafe under their well-meaning coddling.

---

WARRIORS + BALLAD (RED FOX)

Warriors’ daemon settled as the confident, dependable, independent red fox, the most widespread and successful carnivore in the world, found in just about every available habitat, from jungle to tundra; despite being mainly solitary, these animals have a complex social hierarchy and can be seen in a wide variety of group settings, with vixens sometimes coming together during the breeding season to help raise each other’s cubs, and their mates bringing them food and also helping parent the new cubs.

Warriors is shrewd, charming, and diplomatic, while Ballad is more brash, cheeky, and candid.

Ballad, while generally friendly and warm with the other daemons (especially the younger ones), is also strangely skittish around them. She is fine initiating touch or curling up for a nice nap around or with someone else, but if touched unexpectedly, she tends to either bristle, growl, and retreat behind Warriors, or go very still and quiet. She shies away from any human hands except Warriors' (and even then there are days he doesn't touch her directly). They bring to mind other hands. Slim, small, elegant, painted hands that hurt, that took, that tainted- ...It’s fine. She’s fine. They’re fine. Everything’s fine.

---

Resources:

Red-crowned crane analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24990

Italian honeybee analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23882

Tibetan mastiff analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24552

Spanish mastiff information: https://dogtime.com/dog-breeds/spanish-mastiff

Gray wolf analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23828

Wedge tailed eagle analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26686

European rabbit analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=23718

Yellow bellied glider analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24968

Military macaw analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=26591

Red fox analysis: https://daemonpage.com/forum/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=24946

Art belongs to @/linkeduniverse

[prettyboykatsuki]

malice of a pretty face | scaramouche (wanderer)

✮ tags ; adapted from genshin canon but not genshin canon, gn!reader, forced marriage but they ally together, role reversal, scaramouche is called bride mostly jokingly, physically smaller than reader, reader has a female concubine in their bed and kisses them / had sex w them, reader is a tyrant ruler type, age gap (scara is 20 ish and reader is like 28), opium usage, raiden shogun is scara's mother who sold him out, political affairs, handjobs + making out 18+

✮ wc ; 3.4k

✮ a/n ; what if i want to be the tyrant emperor for a change huh. what then. also scaramouche is called bride but gender and stuff is whatever in this universe.

some background, this is not genshin techincally. its like adapted to be a royalty au. reader is a recent ruler of their homeland. scaramouche is a raidens son. he didn't get a lot of choice in coming but he has no political power in his homeland

(this is a rewrite of a concept i posted a while ago but i cant find the ask where someone tells me to expand so hope this finds u anon

✮ synopsis ; your "bride" hails from inazuma and comes to you dressed in white, with eyes full of lightning.

A knock on your door snaps you out of your pointless thinking. Your close companion and Royal Advisor clears his throat before addressing you. 

“Your bride has been prepared for you,”

“Come in.” 

The brown door creaks as it opens, the gold embellishments on either side catching light. The hallway behind is empy but bright. Your advisor stands behind your esteemed guest with a look of mild exasperation. Subtle as it may be, it makes the corner of your lip quirk in amusement. At the door is your betrothed. 

Your bride comes to you wrapped in white. 

“I’ll leave you too it,” Says your advisor, code for please get along that has you nodding your head. You hum quietly, waving him away. He sighs as he shuts the door, leaving your guest standing at the door awkwardly. 

As the rumors have said so many times over, the Raiden Shoguns only heir is strikingly beautiful. Pale thing he is, white as a porcelain doll and nearly half your size. Even in the lowlights of your bedroom, the blurriness of candlelight, you can see the sharpness of his eyes. A signature purple, the color of royalty and trademark of the Inazuman dynasty and bloodline.

For a peace offering, he reeks of defiance. Just standing there with his arms crossed, fists clenched and jaw tight. He looks like he wants to burn the entire palace to the ground where he stands. You’re sure if you picked him apart enough he’d tell you just that. Intel tells you he’s easy to provoke, and for a Prince of his nation - he’s quite the fighter too. 

You aren’t sure how much he knows of this by now. Or if he knows that you’ve learned all sorts of things about him.

Most of all, he’s intriguing. Beautiful but prickly and poisonous. You’re captivated by how much he seethes. You tilt your head as your leg up, your back against the wall. You glance briefly at the concubine asleep in your bed, back exposed. Your robe is half-fallen over your shoulder, the bandaging on your chest and shoulder visible. 

You take a long inhale of the pipe resting on your bed, lungs filling with opium before you push it. Another cloud of smoke fills the room, relief in your back as you exhale. You tilt your head at him. 

“Will you stand there the whole time?” You ask placidly. It angers him even more for a reason you’re unable to discern. 

“Why would I get near a belligerent tyrant like you?”

You chuckle. Despite himself, there’s a tinge of anxiety to his protesting. He’s young and on guard. You’re sure your reputation with the Royal Harem has served you no favors, so he must think you’re going to pounce on him. 

You shake your head. 

“I like to sedate my prey before I eat it. I won’t lay a hand on you.” 

Surprised by your deduction, a flush draws on his features. You smile wispily, before another thought crosses your mind. His name dawns on you, Scaramouche you think it was. 

“Ah, or is it this that’s troubling you?” You say, gesture vaguely to the naked person in your bed laying comfortably “Should I send her away before we speak?” 

Your conversation stirs her. Scaramouche stares on. Instead you glance at the woman before you as she wakes, turning to her side. Barren skin save for jewelry, she runs her hands through her hair as she yawns. 

“Oh, Your Highness. Already another round? I hardly got any rest.” She pouts. Her behavior is amusing to you always.

“Not today. My spouse has come to visit, so I’m sending you back to your chambers.” You say smoothly. She pouts, sitting up. The sheets that covered her so thinly have fallen, revealing the rest of her. A set of gold anklets that match with gold necklaces and gold bracelet. She sits up on her knees and wraps her around your neck.

“How cruel,” She whines, rubbing herself against you “How could you abandon when you favor me so much, hm?” 

“You’re quite clever aren’t you? Trying to seduce me in front of my lover, and all?” 

She pulls back to giggle. 

“So you’ve seen through me. I don’t care for being sent away, you know?”

“What would you like as reconciliation?” You say.

“A kiss goodbye,” She replies easily. This time you look to Scaramouche. His face is burning red. 

“Is it alright with you?” 

He scoffs “As if it matters what I think.” 

“I’ve asked you haven’t I?” 

“Do as you please.” 

You laugh. He says as much but he can't help but stare. He looks embarrassed, albeit you can’t imagine which thing is troubling him so much. It’s entertaining.

You kiss her goodbye as she’s asked, though you know what type of kiss she’s asking for. A deep kiss, the kind where you have to hold her by the nape of her neck. Salacious in nature, where she squirms and holds the front of your robe. You pull away with a laugh, rubbing her lower lip. 

“Send my regards to everyone. It might be some time before I visit again.” 

“How heartbreaking. I’ll do as you wish, Your Highness.” She stands to her feet, pulling herself out of bed and putting on the clothes left on the floor with a sigh. Her feet pad against the marble floor as she walks away. 

She stops to look at Scaramouche before leaving, bowing her head in respect before standing back. She whispers something to him (that turns his face into a blushing mess once more) before patting him on the shoulder gently. 

“I’m off,” She says, waving a hand but not looking back. The door clicks back shut a second time, leaving the two of you alone in silence. You take another drag from your pipe. 

“Come. Sit.” 

He does as you ask this time, stomping with a characteristic frustration that you stop to laugh at internally. He sits on the corner of your mattress, legs crossed. You get to see him up close this time. What delicate features he has, he couldn’t be any older than 21. The white silks he’s dressed in are fine. A thin, lace collar goes up to his throat.  A skirt with high slits about the legs and lacy socks to cover the legs. He’s wearing something over it too, draped over his shoulders. You can see the cut-out of his chest. You only glance. Any longer than this and you’re sure he’ll protest. 

“What troubles you, my bride?” 

He grits his teeth. 

“I’m no bride.” 

“I know,” You say, without any hesitation “You’re the only filial son of the Great Raiden Shogun. I may be a tyrant, but I am no fool.” 

This information surprises him. He wears his emotions on his face, as expected. He’s not gotten so far without being clever. The bounty on his head is insurmountable. There’s a tension in the room, an unspoken heaviness in the air. Quite a fragile thing he is. 

“Then this, this marriage  - it’s fraudulent isn’t it?” He says, angry. You hum. 

“I knew before we wedded. Under the law of Tevyat and in the eyes of the Nation, you are my betrothed.” 

He’s catching up to all that you know. You know it all. The rumors of the cold and unyielding Raiden Shogun. The desolate lands of Inazuma, the loss of childhood and the change in the young man. Rumors of the angry Crown Prince and his bleeding heart. How he was sacrificed for power to your hands, for the eternal vision of Inazuma. 

Of course you know.

“Then why…if you know about me, then why?” 

“The Raiden Shogun offered you to me to get in my good graces. There’s political fairs involved but the simply reason is because I wanted to. You’re easy on the eyes.”

He ignores your flirtatious comment as you expect. 

“What are the political affairs?” 

“Inazuma wishes to strengthen it’s naval army and a small nation requires resources. Since I’ve only just gained power after killing the Emperor, my position for the throne is destabilized and marriage was the best option to stabilize it again,” You explain, already bored just hearing yourself. 

“We don’t gain anything from joining hands with Inazuma as it stands. And plenty of people have vouched desperately for my marriage. The simple answer is because an offer like the only child of the Raiden Shogun, who’s beauty is world-renowned is quite the tempting offer.” 

He looks down, away from you and you resist your own laughter. 

“I despise you,” 

“I know that too. That pretty face of yours doesn’t leave much for imagination. What will you do my dear? Will you run? Cry? Scheme into driving a knife in my heart? Lure me into security and disappear?” 

“...You’re personality is quite twisted.” 

“I’m curious about the faces you make, that’s all. What will you do, how will you react, how you think. But I do not intend to make you miserable. There’s much to discuss,” 

“....Why are you posing as if you’re kind?” 

“A caged animal will lash out for it’s freedom,” You say, titting your head to one side “But a looked after one will never bite the hand that feeds.” 

“Wouldn’t you be the one closer to an animal with your tendencies?” 

“A beast, I hear so often. My point is the same. If I intend to make you even a begrudging ally, I’m not interested in angering you. Nor forcing myself upon you for that matter,” You add the last part intentionally. 

“Disgusting,” He says, all while staring at the curve of your neck and your body “Really,” 

“I do not intend to force you, but if you’re so against the idea - I think it’d only be fair I’m allowed to see my concubines. It’s your choice.” 

He frowns at your explanation. You grin.

“Are you so troubled by it? Would you prefer I only long for you?”

“D-don’t word it like that.” He says, a shake in his voice. You hum, taking a long drag from your pipe. 

“Maybe you’re the sentimental type? A lover from the homeland? Or perhaps, you’re just too inexperienced to be confident?” 

You can see the exciting look on his face. That type of shame that very few nobles wear. Most of them degenerates, or liars. Prim and properly deceitful. You look at Scaramouche’s honest face and feel something between your legs. How much he wishes to admonish you, or even push you away but is all too curious to refuse. An expression like that is a jewel, a diamond waiting for polish. 

You have to chip around it, bit by bit. Too much force and you’ll scratch his beautiful surface, you only pull at him gently. Tease him so tenderly he can’t scurry off. 

“Shut up. You know nothing about me,” 

“If you’re unsure, you can always try. I can teach you much easier than most,” You say. You wonder if he’ll call your bluff. But he doesn’t. He sits and folds his hands in your lap. He reminds you a bit of those Glaze Lily’s all the way from Liyue. Cold and blue and eye-catching. 

Scaramouche does not call your bluff. He shifts to cover his legs and something is overwhelmed inside you. You hold your breath a little. So skittish. 

“There’s nowhere for me to return to,” He says first, surprising you, a bitterness in his tone that pleases you “It’s not like I want to stay here or be your ally. But returning to a place that has discarded me is even more disgusting.” 

“So we’re allies for now. Understood,” You say, glancing at him “Then, are you giving me permission to sleep with you?” 

His eyes widen, face reddening to an impossible degree. A belly laugh leaves you. What a simple person in the end. 

“You―W-we have to consummate the marriage, don’t we? A-and if I stay here, I’ll have power. Leaving it open means it’ll be nullified and―” 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me. If you feel too embarrassed about your desires, you may spread rumors about simply quelling my appetite,” You say with a mild expression, intending it with sincerity “It’d be a shame to do nothing when you’ve dressed up so nicely for your arrival. Come closer,” 

Your comment must bother him, but he resigns himself. He does as he’s asked, slowly getting on his knees and crawling towards you. His eyes are erratic, skin flush. He’s simply sitting across from you and he can’t look at you directly. You’re a little astonished by the extent of his innocence, especially with all the violent rumors around him. You blow out the flame of your pipe, and lean to one side away from you.

Then you stretch your legs out, placing your hands gently on his waist so he doesn’t startle. You manuever so he’s stradling you, his knees on either side of your thigh. Looking at him closely is exciting. There’s makeup on his face. Crushed pink pigment smeared on his lip and smoothed with oil and eyes lined with something dark. You reach your hand up to cup his face, and he manages not to flinch. 

Though you can hear his heart beat. It’s tremendously loud. Nervous.

“Relax, I won’t eat you, for now. I’ll take take responsibility. Have you kissed anyone?” 

“S-so what if I haven’t?” 

“We’ll start there. Close your eyes and follow me.” 

He listens obediently again, closing his eyes. His hands are clenched over his knee. You grab them and let them rest over your shoulders before sneaking your hand to the side of his face. You lean in to kiss him gently, his skin soft. He smells like lavender and oats, the hairs on his nape brushing against your fingers delicately. His lips are soft as you start slowly, opening your mouth just a little. He learns quickly, following your actions without trying to take lead. 

You pull away and do it again. Again and again and again until you’re used to the pace. You use your free hand to squeeze at his delicate waist, relishing in how easily he succumbs to the feelings. He lets out something like a moan that embarasses him near immediately as he pulls away. He’s clumsy but it’s cute, and makes you want to kiss him more. 

He turns his head, using his wrist to cover his mouth which you grab swiftly. You grab his chin too, rubbing your thumb on his lip. 

“Open your mouth and stick your tongue out,” You say, a little more eager than last. He makes a face but listens. You mimic him before kissing him one more time. The feeling of your tongue must surprise him. Either way, his body responds so beautiful. He nearly melts in your arms as you wrap them around his waist, fingers dancing to any bare skin you can. He makes a pretty, pitchy sound for you but doesn’t pull away this time. 

When you stop kissing him, his face looks hazy. Frustrated, he almost goes to chase your mouth but stops himself. You smirk just barely, before busying your mouth on his chin. Open kisses trace his jaw as you lean into his pulse. 

It beats under your teeth, his heart does, so red and so loud. For a minute you really do want to eat him alive, devour him in one swallow. But you restrain yourself from such desires, instead putting little marks on his body for tommorrow. So everyone knows not to say anything about his status. He can resent you later but for now, it’s a safety precaution. 

He makes sounds like a melody, a string insturment in the warm sun. There’s something divinely beautiful about him. His body reacts to your simple touches, a shiver running up his spine as you kiss his neck and grope him lightly. It excites you, those innocent reactions. Makes something stir in your gut and grow hot between your legs. 

You feel something shift underneath you. When you look, there’s something hard poking from his clothes. It makes a tent in the delicate fabric where he stands. You pull away just to stare at it, amused by how hard he is.

“Stop looking at it or I’ll gouge your eyes out,” 

“It’s cute,” You say with conviction, wrapping your hands around the base with the fabric and squeezing the base “I should get to look,” 

“W-what are you?” 

“I’ll bet a stuck-up prince type like you didn’t get much education. There are more ways than one to feel pleasure than sticking it in. I’ll show you, so don’t run away,” 

He doesn’t have the words to protest. He doesn’t refuse you, just watches through his hands. You rub him so slightly through the thin material. Can see it clear with your eyes adjusted. It fits easily in your palm, tip harsh pink and curved. You place your thumb over the tip, smearing the pre-cum leaking onto the fabric. He’s so sticky, so hard and hot in your palms. 

“It’d be better if I touched you directly, but you’re cute like this. So lewd,” 

He has nothing to say. A whine or protest gets cut short with a groan of pleasure. You laugh a little. You search the bed for a bottle of oil with your free hand. When you find it, you pull away and drip it into your hands. 

“Hold this up for me.” You say softly. He hesitates but does, pulling the skirt up until his cock is visible. You rub the oil into your hands, warming it before wrapping around the shaft. The skin-to-skin proves to be a lot for him, his body already trembling though you’ve hardly touched him. He’s much heavier like this, His cock is smooth and he’s near hairless, You can see so much of him, the plane of his stomach and the musculature of his thighs. 

He’s got lithe muscle, nothing too hard or too defined but there all the time. He’s got a dip in one of his hips and a mole that you’ll kiss some other time, just above where you’re touching. You wonder if there’s more. Once you have your way with him you’ll count. 

You stroke him slowly and easily. Any more than this might be cruel since this much action seems to be too much. You watchi his expression as you build to a steady pace, paying special attention to the head. His expression is debauched. Inexperienced as you expected, but perhaps even more than that - sensitive. He’s throbbing against the curves of your roughened skin, gasping and holding hard onto your shoulder as he tries to keep himself tight in one place. You lean your head forward, kissing just under his pec. 

“This is as far as I’ll go today. Cum for your beloved, hm? Show me your face?” 

That seems to do it for him. The use of lover in such a context pushes him over the edge and it only takes two more strokes to spill into your fingers. Thick, hot ropes of cum makes a mess of your fingers as he ruts his cock into your palms chasing his high.

When he’s finished, he nearly collapses into your lap. It sedates all of his previous angers, something you note in the back of your mind. 

You bring your hand up your mouth, tasting it. He gasps, scandalized. 

“That’s dirty!” 

“I’ve done worse. Besides it wasn’t bad. Hand me that,” You gesture. He tosses you the rag to wipe your hand with and you toss it in the basket at the end of your bed. Before he can push you away, you pull him into your arms and laydown. 

“What are you doing?” He says, indignant. 

“Holding you,” You say without blinking, looking down at him. You wrap your arms around his waist and let him cuddle into you “The concubines get angry if I don’t after,” 

“...Don’t talk about them right now,” 

You laugh “Right, sorry.” 

“....What about me?” 

You laugh a little at him pretending he isn’t worried. 

“I know you said not to mention it but I’m all worn out for today. So get some sleep. I’ll have my Advisor prepare more in the morning but you should rest.” 

“Ugh. Fine. If you insist,” He says, melting into you anyway. You laugh to yourself as he closes his eyes. 

You’ve signed up for something fun.

[ratatatastic]

"I gotta have you talk about Barkov a little bit... 'cuz, you know, he's your Captain but like... What should we know that we don't know about this guy? He's so quiet, he keeps a low profile—I'm sure that's by design—but he's the quietest, incredible superstar that...When Chris Pronger was working there (VP of Hockey OPs/Senior Advisor from 2017-2020), I remember he used to say to me, 'Hey, this guy is a Top 5 player in the game.' Even when nobody was even putting him in the Top 10 at that time, you know? But what makes him so great? What do you know about him now that you thought you knew before you got there?" "You know, well, everything—because I'm with you! I knew he was in the league, I knew he was a great player but playing on the other side—I'd see him play twice a year and I wouldn't watch that much and I had no appreciation for how good he was. But the answer—I'm gonna give you an answer about Barkov and it's not gonna be good enough... 'cuz I can't answer that question about him yet, I still haven't gotten to figure it out. I don't know to do it justice but he's this extreme perfect blend of absolutely no ego and an incredible drive to be better at the same time. So usually the guys that are really driven have a bit of an ego. Ego's not bad always, right? Maybe I'm using the wrong word to describe it but he will put his teammates and his—everything—first, and it won't bother him one bit! That's exactly the way he wants it! He doesn't want to be the first guy out, he doesn't want to—it's not that he doesn't want to do interviews because of the media! Talk to this guy! You walk in our room—you don't know hockey and you don't know names—you can't tell if he's the 1st forward or the 13th forward by the way he treats people. That's absolutely the truth! And the reason he's not appreciated as much as a player is: I have never, ever once seen him even remotely cheat to the offensive side of the game to score a point. He just won't do it. That doesn't mean he's sitting back defensively! He doesn't give a rat's ass about his point totals, he just wants to win. So he's never gonna put the numbers up that he could. If Barky decided he was gonna generate points—if somebody'd convince him, 'Hey, Barky! If you just cheat the game and score—we'd got a better chance of winning!' I don't know, [he'd put up] 120, 130 points? Like he is brilliant but he will never, ever put the game—you know, what? He wouldn't put himself in front of the game. The game demands certain things and you can't get past that no matter how good you are. There are certain things you got to do in this game and usually those are hard things... he'd never once put himself in front of the game." "You can't score 120 or 130 without cheating a little bit, right? It's just a real—" "Yeah, except those guys don't call it cheating! They call it anticipating. Bad players cheat, good players anticipate." "They see things before they happen, Paul! That's what happens!" "Exactly, exactly!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 9.24.24 (x)

[theminecraftbee]

because i'm seeing it come up again, a quick "mod thoughts re: all the voter fraud" discussion:

okay so like. in a perfect world, tumblr would have email verification that actually mattered, and we, the mods, would have some more effective way to prevent voter fraud than saying "oh no don't do fraud that's bad". however, we have neither of those things, and doing fraud on our polls is... ridiculously, laughably easy.

so, imagine our distress when during the techno/scar round, a lot of scar fans started getting very, very angry about fraud we weren't sure was even happening? that, indeed, we had absolutely no reason to think was happening at the time, and no way to do anything about it if was?

well. there were two options. and we took the one that would lead to everyone having more fun and things being less toxic overall in the community. the thing is: if we'd said "voter fraud is entirely unallowed, this thing we can't prevent and can't moderate", then the toxicity of fanbases blaming each other for "breaking the rules" would have gone through the roof. full-stop. and we... didn't want that. this poll did not matter. it still doesn't matter. it had grown wildly, wildly bigger than we'd expected, and we had basically no way to control the way everyone was acting about it, but we didn't want to make a statement that would cause people to be even meaner to each other.

so instead, we took the funny option. we said "yeah do whatever voter fraud you want we don't care". SLIGHTLY regret that we didn't know tumblr tried to make you follow random strangers' blogs when you made a new account otherwise maybe we would have been a BIT more clear about 'don't do that', but listen. by saying "voter fraud is totally fine" we made it funny that people were cheating. we made it so there was basically no such thing as "cheating". we made it so, and this was key, the growing toxicity about "but they're BOTTING" was stupid, because like... everyone's doing it now. openly and blatantly doing it. voters fraud is a beautiful name for a baby girl, and this poll doesn't matter and isn't worth getting worked up over, and you can't cheat if it's not against the rules and everyone's doing it anyway, is the idea here.

like, in an ideal world, would we have rampant voter fraud? nah. in a world where we can't stop it if it happens, though... may as well make sure both sides have equal opportunity to fraud, right? like, that makes it even again, right? and more importantly, it reminds people that this shit really, really doesn't matter.

anyway all of this is to say that if you all start coming into our notes and inbox again to start being really toxic about the other side of the poll and make me cry again i will be pissed.

[softquietsteadylove]

Hii love, how are you? I have a little request if thats ok.

Gilgamesh has the most horrific nightmare ever, Thena dying in his arms, there is blood and she is in pain and when she closes her eyes one last time Gil finally wakes up, only to find Thena missing from their bed, he searchs for her like a mad man, only to find her in the kitchen drinking water, he picks her up and refuses to let her go for the rest of the day.

Gilgamesh shoots up out of bed. He's gasping for breath, sweat on his brow. He presses his palm to his chest and flexes his fingers. He looks over at Thena's side of the bed, frantic for her presence.

She isn't there.

It's still warm, though. He can see where the weight of her body wrinkles the bed sheets and he can smell the scent of her fondness for the garden. His hand slides over to it, feeling the latent warmth of her presence.

He throws back the covers, desperate to see her with his own eyes. He can still feel the weight of her body in his arms--the dead weight. What it was like to look at her face, still and motionless and cold. He can vividly recall the feeling of carrying his wife to her funeral pyre and watching her body be consumed by flame.

"Thena?!"

He runs out of their bedroom, ripping the door off its hinges--weak things in comparison to his unchecked strength. He looks around their home frantically. His heart is searching for her, the Cosmic Energy in his veins screaming for her.

She's here--he can feel her presence! It exists, she's close, and even if she weren't, her existence would tether his and pull, like ends of the same string.

"Thena!" he calls out again, moving into the kitchen. He can see everything the way they left it last night. Their chairs are pushed in lazily, his apron is thrown over the edge of the sink after she told him to hang it up where it belongs yet again. He turns, ready to break this door open too.

Then she walks in. She's unaware of the nightmare that nearly sent him into hysterics. She walks in, barefoot as always, her long white dress dancing around her legs. The sun streams in behind her, lighting her bright blonde hair like an angel's halo.

"What are you yelling about?" she asks as if he's been shouting at the tv again. "I could hear you all the way from the water tower. I just looked over the garden, although th-!"

She stumbles, although any creature from this planet would have been plowed through the far wall from sheer force. But she corrects her footing, letting him latch onto her and hold her for all the eternal life in him.

He whimpers, burying his face against her shoulder. He inhales the scent of her breath, absorbs the warmth of her through her cotton dress, hears the beat of her heart as his own syncs to it.

"Gilgamesh?" she asks without asking. She runs her fingers through his hair, but he remains cloistered around her. Her face turns to kiss his temple, "what ever could be so wrong?"

She has no idea. He nuzzles the side of her neck, "don't move."

She sighs for the sake of sighing, but she does as he asks. Her fingers run through the hair on top of his head lightly and soothingly. Her other hand rubs his back. He, the Strongest Eternal, truly dwarfs her lithe frame in size. But she lets him lean on her like a tree losing its strength.

Eventually his nervous system puts out its own fire. The fear in his mind settles enough for him to open his eyes. He stays close, pressing his nose against her skin as he drags it up her neck and her jaw until he holds her cheeks to look at her--really look at her.

Thena blinks at him, her marvelously green eyes gone wide and adorable. They close as he leans in for a kiss. When they part, her lips are pulled into a smile. "Will you tell me now?"

"No," he denies, and kisses her again. He gives many more kisses, receiving her return with each. He does that until he feels strong enough to take even half a step away from her. He sighs, letting his shoulders drop, tilting his head as he gazes upon his beautiful wife.

"Gil," she prompts him more gently. Her eyelashes flutter, and her concern for him travels through her palm as she slides it up his chest and then to his cheek as well. They have been married several hundred years, and she will get an answer out of him sooner than later.

He sighs again, wrapping his arms around her and moving her to the sink, where she pours water for them. "Just a bad dream."

"Hm." It's obviously more than just a bad dream. But she leaves it at that, because their days now are full of small battles, not large ones. She raises the glass to his lips for him, as if they were wearied after the Trojan War again.

He remains wrapped around her. He can't let her go. The fear that lived in his mind during that dream hasn't left yet. It's still there, watching him despite the light of day.

Thena takes a sip for herself. "Sit?"

He makes a small sound of agreement. She moves towards the table but he prevents her from separating from him again. "Couch."

He can imagine her rolling her eyes, although it's only for the humour of it. She moves past the kitchen table and towards their more comfortable space. She seats herself and lets him seat himself around her, cradling her against him preciously. "The door?"

He grunts; he'll fix it later.

Once reclined on their couch, he breathes a little easier. This is more familiar and gentle. This is where they've spent sunny afternoons together. Sometimes they read together, sometimes he reads and she sleeps on him the way a cat would. She never liked those creatures.

He would run his fingers through her hair and sometimes she would idly rub his back. They would spend evenings here reminiscing about their thousands upon thousands of years together. Sometimes they would go out to their hammock and watch the stars.

Thena settles herself in his arms. She turns over, letting her head tuck itself under his chin, her hand over his heart with his arms wrapped around her. "Better?"

He nods. They speak the other's language--a way of understanding that only they two have. Usually it's she who has few words to offer but even now, with him being reticent, she understands it.

They sit like this for a long time. He watches the shadows rise and stretch and fall in the other direction. When it's in the windows and on them he moves his hands, only to shield her from the direct touch of its rays.

That privilege is for him and him alone. By the second time he does this she turns over again. He's not entirely certain if she's truly gone to sleep or not. But holding her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, the way she feels comfortable with him; he feels eased.

Thena senses this. She sneaks one of her arms around his back and against the couch. The other she toys with the opening at the neck of his shirt. Her pale, pearly nail taps against his skin. "Now?"

The Warrior Eternal is not a patient woman.

Although, she has expended more patience than he has seen from her in quite a long time. For beings with all the time in the world, she is not the best at watching it go by. At least not with the menial. When they were first raising chickens, he could swear she would observe the eggs every quarter hour.

"Bad dream," he repeats from earlier. He already knows she knows this, and he already knows she knows how bad it is to have him this paranoid. He squeezes her shoulder. "Terrible, really."

"Hm," she encourages him, moving her hand from his shirt to his neck, cupping his jaw from below. She strokes it, pulling the words from him with her gentle touch.

"You..." he pauses. He doesn't want to lie to her, even if it's by omitting the truth. "I killed you."

"Impossible."

It's not, and they're well aware of it. But Thena speaks of it lightly, and he likes to think it's because she knows that he would take the utmost care of her, even in a nightmare.

"Felt possible," he argues, pursing his lips as he tries to get the image of her still and unblinking face out of his head. His face gets moved, tilted down to look at her lying on him. It's upside down, but this image of her is much better. He smiles.

Thena smiles too, leaning up to kiss him, letting their lips stretch no matter how far to do so. Hers are always so plump and luscious, like berries. He wants to grow berries here for her, but the ground is simply too dry.

She runs her fingers through his hair again, letting her palm press against his forehead. "It's gone now."

It's such a simple statement, but she's right. As soon as a dream happens, it's already a thing of the past. And maybe he will remember it for a long time to come. Maybe pieces of it will always be with him. But it's not in front of him now, she is.

Thena laughs as he stands suddenly, spinning them around with her hands around his neck. "What has gotten into you?"

He just gazes at her, lucky enough to have his own version of a star to brighten and dazzle and illuminate his every moment on this green and blue spec of cosmos. "Do you remember coming home like this?"

He's carried her like this plenty of times. But she knows what he means; he means the first time he carried her inside like this, as his wife. She nods, stroking his cheek again.

"Y'know, I hear humans can get married again sometimes," he grins, refusing to let the dream colour any more of the beautiful present with his beautiful wife. "They call it renewing your vows."

"We didn't make vows."

Ah, his wife, ever the romantic. He chuckles, touching the tip of his nose to hers. "We can make some this time."

"Construct some poetry for the benefit of a strange human to witness?" she scoffs at the utter absurdity.

"You would write me poetry?" he asks and receives another bubbly laugh.

"I would consider it," she appeals as he spins them one more time and sits with her again. She remains in his hold, on his lap, curled against him. "But for your eyes only. A mortal mind could never wrap its mind around what we have been through together."

That is true. Their love isn't for a mortal to comprehend. He is immortal, and sometimes he's left in awe of it. He stares at his wife, wondering if he should learn to weave so he can make a glorious tapestry devoted to every second - every minute, every hour - he's had with her.

He has all the time in the world.

[musings-of-miss-j]

gave a presentation to a class of ninth and tenth graders on how to deal with their igcses :] nothing to note they were very silly and cute and i hope i was helpful

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about fallout 4 against my will

[hollytree33]

Zero Context WIP Tag Game

If you’re tagged, make a new post and share 1-2 (a few) sentences from your most recent unposted WIP(s) with zero context – Let your followers guess!

Thanks for the tag @broodsys!! I love these games they push me to share things I wouldn’t have otherwise! I’m slowly getting braver, I feel like a baby bird leaving the nest haha

Tagging @greypetrel, @kcwriter-blog, @lillotte17, @dreadfutures, and anyone else that wants to!! (No pressure of course ❤️)

Magic had come over her with a sharp clarity, bright and all consuming like a bonfire lit behind her eyes. It was Knowledge that had taken her hands, guiding them as an old friend would, to form a sparkling star of flame in her small palms.

[totallynotobsessedwithfandoms]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, 501st Legion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Padmé Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, R2-D2 (Star Wars), Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, CT-7567 | Rex, CC-2224 | Cody, 501st Legion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars), 212th Attack Battalion Members (Star Wars: The Clone Wars) Additional Tags: Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Holidays, Life Day (Star Wars), Presents, Anakin Skywalker is a Disaster, Established Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Found Family, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, comfy-vember 2024, No Beta We Die Like Clones Series: Part 29 of comfy-vember prompts Summary:

@comfy-vember on Tumblr's day twenty-nine prompt: birthday gift

It's almost Life Day and Anakin realizes that he doesn't have money to buy gifts. He panics.

[quietamericans]

just posting to save for myself

[bobbiflekmann]

couldn’t resist getting to practice drawing such hair