#resolutions from guiding skies

[guiding-skies-local]

Resolutions from Guiding Skies local group

Without Reminiscence - he/him An iterator built to study echoes; how a one becomes an echo, how to save release an echo, how to avoid becoming one, etc. Out of the group, Reminiscence holds the tallest structure and largest city. Surrounding his structure are many buildings amidst few trees. Rain cycles are as normal in his area. He is the group senior, and likely the only one to manage work and breaks responsibly. Generally, Reminiscence is on good or neutral terms with the group, and has little to no problems with functioning and communication.

Drifting Feathers - any An iterator built to study lesser creatures, and has taken a fascination towards them. His job was intended to be to study the karma of lesser creatures and how it may become possible for them to reach levels necessary for ascension. Now, rather than dedicating their work to find a solution, they have taken to simply studying the plant and animal life around them. He is rather fascinated by how creatures interact with each other, and how they survive throughout cycles. Their superstructure was built within a mesa with some tropical elements. She does not have much of a city because of the weather. The rain takes a long time to arrive, but the bigger concern is overheating on your travels. Not on great`terms with Dappled, on neutral with Reminiscence, and a great relationship with Moons.

Star Dappled Reflections - they/them Built with the general purpose of finding a solution to the Great Problem. They hold cynicism towards their work, as the ones they work for no longer exist, but they continue to work anyways. Dappled uses slugcats as messengers and for missions, and they generally see the slugcats only as tools for their work. THeir structure holds a somewhat large city. They reside in an overgrown mountainous area, with buildings surrounding the bottom of the structure. Their structure is slowly becoming more overgrown from the bottom up, and the buildings surrounding are completely overgrown. They admire Winds for her work. They do not bother to try communicating with Moons, and is at odds with Feathers. Good relationship with Reminiscence.

Six Silent WInds - she/they/it An iterator built to be the most efficient of the group, and another built with the general purpose of solving the Great Problem. She will not entertain any thoughts or feelings unrelated to her work - that would be unproductive and not worth her time. They have a mid-sized city that has been worn away by the weather. Winds was built a bit more isolated from the rest, in a cold, swampy place of quite strong weather. Rain comes slanted sideways and really strongly pelting. Once the rain comes, the wind strongly picks up. They do not have any relationship with the rest of the group. Any conversations are strictly work only.

Three Bright Fading Moons - he/she The youngest of the group, built shortly before the extinction of the ancients. They were a rushed structure with little care, with the goal of creating an iterator to assist with Feather's work on studying the creatures of the world. Because of the rush, their systems would frequently break or malfunction, resulting in frequent maintenence. As the ancients have gone extinct, their systems and structure have only worsened over time without quicker fixes. Either forces themselves to reboot to try and fix internal systems, or is disconnected by malfunctions & breaking. Originally named Three Bright Moons, he was renamed to Three Fading Moons because his structure was soon not expected to last. Moons is built in a rocky area, where rain cycles can be normal but are often more severe in storming, wind, etc. She was not built to withstand that. No city at all, but buildings are scattered some ways away from them. She is still conscious and able to communicate, but more often offline. Unaware of a relationship status with Dappled. She is on good terms with Reminiscence and Feathers. WR and DF incorporate trying to help Moons, albeit Feathers more so.

My silly little guys! My fucked up creatures! I love them and I have so many thoughts about them. Sorry if I am not entirely lore accurate here but I would like to not be too concerned over that!

[celestialspritz]

Why Sims 2 has been so broken the last ten years

This is down to my own research, and I'm not saying it is the one and only reason why the game is so broken these days, but I have some points worth mentioning.

So, you're bored one day. You remember this game you had so much fun playing a few years ago, or maybe as a child. It's The Sims 2!

The game has a few issues than from when you last remembered playing, so you search on google for some fixes for the tiny resolution, and among the countless posts you may find, you may find this:

Or this:

(to the creators and players mentioned here this isn't me making a dig at you, i'm just pointing out some cc that could affect the game from working properly. your stuff is all beautiful :D)

Lesya's game is gorgeous!!! Oh, how can I get it to look like that?

So you, with a clean, vanilla (ugly) game you decide to download a few mods she listed, such as:

Skylines by GCKP (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Skies by Lowedeus (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Trees by Criquette (you can get optimised ones here)

No More Blurriness by Voeille (you can get optimised snow only here)

Cool! And then you notice some cheats than can give the game that open-world, interactive feel. Even better!

And you shove them into your folder and you boot up the game. Everything's going great!

Until...

You search hundreds of posts looking for the fix. Some recommend 3rd-party tools, but they seem to make the problem worse. You reinstall, finding you only wasted your time. Something has to be causing this, but you'd never guess it'd be the mods everybody swore by.

Well, in fact, it is. Partly.

I've struggled with pink flashing since 2019, when I reinstalled Sims 2 after I got a decent computer for once. I did everything above, searched for fixes, found Lesya's blog which was my primary inspiration. It was through Lesya's guide that I was able to make my game look pretty!

These mods, which are a staple in the modding community, are beautiful indeed... but what if I told you that the reason they're so beautiful, is because they're high-quality. With textures soaring up to 4k, when, hang on--

In 2004, 4k resolution was... probably unheard of. With the leading monitor size being 1024x768, what would be the point of using such huge textures on an engine that was designed for monitors of at least this size? Would you be able to see the detail of 4k on a monitor of that size? Definitely not.

The max visiting sims, okay, a little hit or miss. If your sims are all wearing high poly alpha CC, then it's a problem. If not, good luck.

Then comes the cheats I mentioned. The lot skirt cheat expands the view distance a significant amount. With the mergenhoodflora cheat, that displays more trees. Combining the two, what do you get?

A massive view distance, blinded by trees.

With skies and skylines with large textures up to 4k, and trees with textures up to 2k, The Sims 2 will collapse. It's like forcing an old man with health conditions to do 20 situps, again and again.

It'll overexert him, by the very least. And you're overexerting the game by cramming custom content that is not optimised for the engine TS2 was built on.

So please, next time you encounter the pink soup, please check your CC folders, and research changes and cheats before you put them into your game. You will enjoy the game much more if you do this, and won't encounter this problem so often.

Don't use Graphics Rules Maker

Instead, opt for a maxis original Graphics Rules uploaded here by Veronavillequiltingbee. It's essentially a rewrite of an old tutorial I made a long time ago.

Once you download the file from VVQB, open DXDIAG by pressing WinKey+R and typing 'dxdiag'.

This value I've underlined is what you need to put after seti textureMemory. Open the sgr file and do CTRL-F and input seti textureMemory.

Add the value from DXDIAG and then save it.

You can use GRM for adding your GPU to the game, but I do not recommend it for anything but that.

Optimising the game... inside the game

*shoves GRM off the table*

We're going to go into TS2 in-game settings for this one.

These settings are optimal if you play CC-heavy households. It will ease the load on your game to make space for the heavy CC you have in your current household. You can tweak these when you want to take photos outside, but for playing I recommend them all to be off - especially at community lots as there are lots of sims there.

I never see anybody talking about Object Hiding.

Object Hiding hides objects from floors that aren't in view. If you're playing downstairs, objects upstairs won't be rendered, thus minimising the load on your game.

I have reflections and smooth edges off because I use ReShade.

Snow on Ground is optional. Sometimes snow can cause pink flashing, I believe it's due to texture replacements that are huge in size too, Voeille's is 2k. I've linked a resized one above.

This post will be updated with later findings. I hope you all found it informative :]

[idkyetxoxo]

Criston Cole - A Dragon Ride

Summary - Born to ride dragons, she is determined to share her passion with Criston. Despite his initial hesitation, he becomes captivated. As they descend into a secluded valley, she draws him into a dance of wonder and intimacy, revealing the true magic of dragon riding.

Pairing - Criston Cole x Targaryen reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!!)

Word count - 2018

Masterlist for Criston • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Dragon riding was in my blood. From the moment I was born, it was clear that soaring through the skies on a dragon's back was my destiny. The exhilaration of being so high above the ground was unmatched by any experience on land. It was pure magic.

"Ser Criston, how about today?" I asked as we walked together. His sigh was heavy, a mix of resignation and reluctant amusement.

"Princess, when will you cease this incessant questioning?" he asked, exasperation lacing his voice.

"Never," I replied with a mischievous grin. He halted abruptly, and I stopped too, watching as thoughts flickered across his face.

"Very well," he finally said. I gasped, barely daring to hope. 

"Does this mean you'll join me?" I asked eagerly, my heart racing.

He nodded. "I will," he affirmed. My smile stretched wide.

"Quickly, shed your armour and meet me at the dragon pit!" I called, sprinting away before he could change his mind.

Bursting into my chambers, I shouted, "I need my dragon-riding attire, and make haste!" My handmaidens moved swiftly, their hands deftly preparing my outfit.

As they laced up my boots and adjusted my riding leathers, excitement bubbled within me. The thought of sharing the thrill of flight filled me with joy.

Moments later, I thanked my handmaidens with a radiant smile and dashed out of the room, heart racing. The dragon pit loomed ahead, and with each step, my anticipation grew.

Criston was already there, armour discarded, a mix of determination and apprehension on his face.

I approached Silverwing, who greeted me with a soft, melodic coo that resonated through the air.

"Gevie," I murmured, fingers brushing her iridescent scales. Beautiful.

Silverwing's response was a deep, rumbling purr, her eyes closing in a blissful half-lid. Her presence was both soothing and awe-inspiring.

"Come, Ser Criston," I called, motioning for him to join me. He approached cautiously, his gaze fixed on Silverwing. "She will not harm you," I assured, guiding his hand to her silvery skin.

He hesitated, his fingers hovering before finally making contact. Slowly, he began to stroke Silverwing's hide, growing more confident. A faint smile tugged at his lips as Silverwing nestled closer.

"She's magnificent," he murmured, wonder in his voice.

I smiled. "She is. And as gentle as she is powerful."

We stood together, immersed in the moment. The connection between rider and dragon was something sacred, a blend of trust, respect, and mutual understanding. Seeing Criston experience this for the first time filled me with a deep sense of satisfaction.

"Are you ready for our flight?" I asked.

He nodded, eyes never leaving Silverwing. "I am," he replied, his voice steady and resolute.

I climbed onto Silverwing's back, feeling the familiar surge of excitement. Ser Criston followed, settling behind me with a mix of anticipation and apprehension.

With a powerful beat of her wings, Silverwing launched us into the sky. The ground fell away, and we soared higher, the wind rushing past us. Criston's grip around my waist tightened with exhilaration.

We flew over forests and rivers, the landscape a blur beneath us. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over everything. The sense of freedom was intoxicating, and Criston's grip relaxed slightly as he began to enjoy the ride.

After what seemed both an eternity and a fleeting moment, we descended into a hidden valley, pristine and unspoiled by human touch. Lush foliage encircled a sparkling lake, its clarity reflecting the serene tranquillity of the landscape.

Silverwing landed gracefully, and we dismounted, our feet touching the soft grass. I turned to Criston, eyes sparkling. "How was it?"

He took a deep breath, eyes wide with amazement. "It was as you described and more—the thrill, the beauty... beyond words."

I beamed at him. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. Dragon riding is not just an activity, it's a part of who I am. Sharing it makes it even more special."

Criston nodded, thoughtful. "I understand now. The bond with Silverwing, the freedom... it's magical."

We sat on a weathered log at the water's edge, the lake stretching out before us, shimmering slightly. Its beauty was intoxicating, beckoning me closer.

A sudden, playful impulse surged through me. I sprang to my feet and ventured toward the shore, eagerly wading into the cool embrace of the lake.

"Princess, your clothes!" Criston called, concern in his voice. I glanced back with a mischievous grin.

"Then I suppose they're a problem," I replied, turning to face him. 

His brows knitted together in confusion as I kicked off my boots, the soft thud against the ground echoing in the quiet. I slipped off my gloves next, maintaining eye contact as his eyes widened, surprise and intrigue flickering across his features.

"Princess, what are you doing?" he asked, a mix of caution and curiosity in his voice. 

A soft laugh escaped me as I began undoing the fastenings of my attire, the fabric sliding down my shoulders.

His gaze dropped instinctively, but a smile danced on my lips.

"I'm getting in!" I declared, stepping into the water. With a final breath, I submerged, letting the lake embrace me.

Emerging, I floated on my back, gazing at the vast sky. "Come join me! I promise I won't look," I called out.

True to my word, I closed my eyes, savouring the moment, the gentle lapping of the water around me soothing my spirit. I opened my eyes only when I felt him nearby, and my heart swelled as I saw the awe in his gaze.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" I said, looking around at the serene landscape, where the water mirrored the sky and the trees whispered secrets in the breeze.

"It truly is," he replied, his voice filled with wonder, as we both soaked in the tranquillity of our surroundings.

We drifted closer, the water binding us in a gentle dance. His eyes softened as they met mine, a silent understanding passing between us. He reached out, brushing a strand of wet hair from my face, the touch tender and electric.

Without a word, he pulled me closer, our bodies aligning as his lips found mine. The kiss was slow and exploratory, the cool water contrasting with the heat of our connection, making every touch more intense.

As we broke the kiss, I took his hand, guiding him to the shore. The water glistened on our skin as we emerged, the world around us bathed in the golden light of sunset. I led him to a nearby bed of grass, lush and inviting.

"Princess," he murmured, a mix of adoration and desire in his voice as I pulled him down beside me. His hands found my waist, pulling me close. His eyes roved over me with both reverence and hunger.

"Ser Criston," I murmured, capturing his lips in another passionate kiss. Our bodies moved together, and I slowly crawled into his lap, feeling the heat and anticipation build.

"Princess, are you certain?" he asked, breaking the kiss briefly, concern and desire mingling in his voice.

I nodded, lifting my hips slightly. He was already hard, and I felt a thrill as I aligned our bodies. With a slow, deliberate motion, I lowered myself onto him, a gasp escaping as he filled me. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through me.

I rocked back and forth, trying to find the perfect rhythm, but the moment's intensity made it difficult. Sensing my struggle, he took charge, laying me on my back and hovering over me.

Drops of water fell from his hair onto my skin, mingling with the beads of sweat that had begun to form, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the moment.

"Allow me," he whispered, positioning himself. He entered me again, and I gasped at the renewed sensation. His thrusts were slow and measured at first, sending ripples of pleasure through me.

"Faster," I urged, breathless with need.

He quickened his pace, his eyes darkening with desire. Each thrust became more urgent, driving us both closer to the edge.

My hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles tensing with each thrust. His pace grew more insistent, driving us higher. My breath came in ragged gasps, the tension within me coiling tighter.

Just when I thought I couldn't take more, he withdrew, kissing down my body. His lips left a burning path on my skin.

"What are you doing?" I asked, trembling with curiosity and need.

"Trust me," he murmured, his breath warm. He continued downward, his mouth finding the most sensitive spots. When his lips reached my core, I gasped, overwhelmed.

His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, exploring and teasing. The pleasure built intensely. My hands found their way to his hair, my fingers tangling in the wet strands as I encouraged him to continue.

"Just like that," I moaned, arching toward him. His movements became more focused, each flick of his tongue sending shockwaves through me.

"Oh Gods, don't stop," I pleaded. "I need more... I need."

He responded with a hum, the vibration adding a new layer of sensation that made my toes curl. His hands gripped my thighs, holding me steady as he intensified his efforts.

"Please... please," I whimpered.

The release was sudden and powerful, leaving me breathless. I cried out his name, my entire being consumed by the sensation. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work its magic, drawing out every last bit of my climax until I was left trembling and breathless.

As I lay in the afterglow, he moved back up my body, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. I could taste myself on him, the intimacy sending another shiver through me.

"My turn," I whispered against his lips, a playful smile dancing on my face. 

With a gentle push, I guided him onto his back and straddled him, feeling his eager hardness pressing against me. I took my time, savoring the moment as I positioned myself over him.

Slowly, deliberately, I lowered myself onto him. A moan slipped from my lips as he filled me completely. The sensation was exquisite, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure. I started to move, finding a rhythm that sent waves of ecstasy through us both.

His hands gripped my hips, guiding me as our bodies moved in perfect harmony. Leaning forward, I rested my hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 

His eyes locked with mine, the intensity of his gaze amplifying the sensation.

"You're incredible," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "Just like that. Don't stop."

"Does it feel good?" I asked breathlessly, quickening my pace.

"Yes, oh Gods, yes," he panted, his grip tightening on my hips. "Keep going."

I relished his praise, feeling a surge of confidence. As I leaned in to kiss his neck, I nipped at the sensitive skin, drawing out his pleasure. His breaths grew ragged, his voice straining as he expressed his need.

"I need more," he admitted, his voice strained.

"Tell me what you want," I teased, slowing just enough to draw a moan from him.

"I want everything," he growled, his eyes dark with longing. "I want you to cum for me. I want to feel you lose control."

His words were like a match to kindling, igniting the fire within me. I increased my pace, riding him harder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. His hands roamed over my body, adding to the sensation as I drove us both higher.

"Cum for me," he urged, his voice raw with need. "I want to feel every shudder, every wave of your release."

"Yes," I gasped, the tension inside me coiling tighter. "I'm so close."

"Let go," he whispered, his eyes burning into mine. "Let me feel you."

The coil of tension inside me snapped, and I was overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure so intense that it left me breathless. My body convulsed around him, a cry of ecstasy tearing from my lips.

He followed moments later, a deep groan escaping his lips as he found his own release. His movements became erratic, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm. We clung to each other, riding the waves of pleasure together, our bodies perfectly in sync.

As the aftershocks of pleasure began to fade, I collapsed beside him, pulling him into my arms. We lay there, tangled together, the cool grass beneath us.

"So, which dragon ride was better?"

A/n - Silverwing watching from a distance like 🤨 also this isn't exacly how I imagined the execution of this one but I'm too lazy to fix it now

[neath-to-reach-zine]

Neath to Reach Zine 2 is out!

It’s finally here!

Bringing together many talented artists and writers yet again, the theme for this fanmade Zine is “The Traveler’s Guide to [ILLEGIBLE]”!

Featuring anything from the Depths of London to the farthest reaches of the High Wilderness, this Zine has collected fanworks dedicated to Fallen London, Sunless Seas, Sunless Skies and all it’s associated worldbuilding and fantastic universe. 

Download the Zine in Full Resolution here! 

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1DNT9wCZEZKv0sFca8tI8z8USVtfTxVoq/view?usp=sharing

-

If you rather have a smaller file size (with possibly reduced image quality), or view it in browser, please follow this link instead!

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1sej6Jj18EjcNu6b1qVsJZLgBnXwgm6yc/view?usp=sharing

Thank you to everyone who participated in the Zine and made this possible! <3

Neath to Reach Zine is not associated with Failbetter Games, and this is a purely non-profit fanbased collection of works.

[handoksoo]

To Soar in the Skies

It's finally over. Your vision and wings are back

Character: Kamisato Ayato

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, major character death

a/n: This is my first time posting here, I hope you guys like it (⃔ ⌯' '⌯)⃕

As the Vision hunt decree is abolished, you stood in the middle of the battlefield. Finally, after years of fighting, you've done it. What you've fought for so long has finally concluded on a good note as you watched illuminated glows appear in the faces of those who've lost their vision. One by one, they cradled it and rejoiced as they felt the familiar surge of their blessing through them. No doubt a joyous occasion.

Your own vision appears, a sight to behold, and you gasp. A familair feeling of calm winds as you reach out your hand to held it gently in your hands. Barbatos' blessing hugging your form as beautiful teal elemental wings grew from your back. Decorated like crysyal flies.

You smiled, choking out a sob as you finally feel complete again. Your eyes look up to stare at your fiance just a few steps across from you as you. Gorgeous as ever, a bittersweet smile on his face as rain begins to fall and the skies darken. You take a shaky step forward...the spear that pierced your stomach moved.

"We did it." It came out as a weak whispers before you fell to your knees. Ayato was there in no less than a second to cradle your form gently yet closely as you feel his warmth. It didn't matter that the ground was soiled with blood and dirt. All that mattered was the both of you, this moment. An inevitable goodbye.

"If one of us dies." You brought up one night as you lay in bed with him. Legs tangled together and bare skin each other's only source of warmth. "I do not wish that we let the other see how we mourn."

Ayaro narrows his eyes curiously. "How so?" This conversation was heavy, knowing it was a possibility. Internally, they knew you had a higher chance of dying between the both of you. And as much as he wanted to stop you, your resolute goal wasn't something he could just rip away.

You trace circles onto his chest, sighing deeply. "If I die...I want to be bid farewell as if I'm just going to sleep."

"The battle is over." He whispered, taking her hand and pressing a kiss tonher palm. You could feel his lips shake, his face warm. And those eyes, lavender in hue, you never wished to be the one to cause pain behind them.

In an attempt to comfort him, you do your best to control your wings despite the pain. Lightly fluttering them to catch his attention. When his eyes shift to look at them, you can't help the smug smile on your face. "Beautiful, isn't it?" You teased even as blood was coughed out of her mouth to stain his clothes. But Ayato simply moves his eyes back to stare at you. Your face, your eyes, your mouth, everything. "Yes." He agrees. "So beautiful." He kisses your forehead, and you feel tears cascade down. And goodness, such a tease he was, you couldn't help but feel flustered against all odds.

Ayato eyed your vision and wings. It was as beautiful as you had always bragged back then as you vowed to fight against the Raiden Shogun and her decree. A proud and confident free spirit that fit the vision granted to her. Absolutely stunning in his eyes...even as you now laid to die in his arms.

He presses you closer to him as much as he can, trying to keep himself from just crying out loud. It would sadden you deeply, and he didn't want that now. If you were to go, you have to be happy and content. No matter how soon it is. Slowly, he tilts your head up to kiss you on the lips. Slow and steady, savoring this one last time

You laughed as he finally pulled back and see your blood has stained his mouth, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm glad...that the visions are back." She says, voice growing weaker. "...I'm sorry...I won't be able to show you how I fly…" It was what you promised him every time. To show him the beauty of the skies without a glider. To guide him like the wind guided you.

Ayato felt something stab into his heart as he listened intently to her. Engraving her voice into his mind. His beloved had been through so much in this fight for justice, and despite all of it, you had not given up on your dream of flying again. Even now, as her life was fading, her eyes were turned towards the sky and on the vast horizon.

Then, slowly, the vision in her hands started to fade. An ominous gray taking over as her body starts to become heavy. Ayato shuts his eyes tight, hugging her closer and whispering to her ear. One last comfort for his beloved. Before she returns to the skies and watches over as a different being. A place where he can not yet reach.

"Don't worry," he whispered, stroking her hair. "I think I can imagine it just fine."

"..."

"Goodnight, my love."

[froottalks]

Guiding Stars - Kara Danvers x reader

[summary: reader is in love with kara and confesses their feelings to her]

Masterlist

National City was a place of constant hustle and bustle, where the streets buzzed with energy and the skies were guarded by a vigilant protector—Supergirl. Amidst this city's chaos, fate guided you to a chance encounter with Kara Danvers, a woman with a heart as bright as the sun she concealed within her.

You were drawn to Kara's warmth and kindness from the moment you met her at CatCo. Her smile was like a beacon of light in a world that often seemed overshadowed by darkness. As you got to know her, you realized that her compassion was matched only by her determination to make the world a better place.

One evening, after a long day at CatCo, you found Kara sitting on the balcony of her apartment, gazing at the stars. The city lights twinkled below, creating a mesmerizing backdrop for your conversation.

"Kara," you began, "there's something about you, about the way you care for others, that's truly inspiring."

Kara turned to you, her blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I've always believed that we have a responsibility to use our gifts to help those in need."

As you continued to talk, you discovered a shared sense of purpose—a desire to make a difference, no matter how small. It was as if your paths had converged for a reason, aligning your lives in a way that felt destined.

As weeks turned into months, your connection with Kara deepened. You found yourself spending more time together, whether it was working on a story for CatCo or supporting her in her heroic endeavors as Supergirl. There was an unspoken understanding between you, a bond that grew stronger with each passing day.

One night, as you and Kara stood on a rooftop, gazing at the city's skyline, you couldn't hold back the feelings that had taken root within you. "Kara, there's something I've been wanting to tell you," you confessed, your heart racing.

Kara turned to you, her expression a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, you met her gaze. "Kara, you've become a guiding star in my life. Your compassion, your strength—it's all so incredible. And I... I've fallen for you."

Kara's eyes widened slightly, her lips parting in surprise. After a moment, a soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "I never thought I'd hear those words from someone who knows both sides of me."

You stepped closer, your heart pounding. "Kara, I see you—the reporter, the hero, the person behind the mask. And I care for every part of you."

In that moment, beneath the starlit sky, Kara reached out and took your hand, her touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I care for you too," she admitted, her voice soft but resolute. "Being Supergirl often means putting others first, but with you, I want to explore a different side of life."

As the city's lights continued to shimmer below, you shared a kiss—a promise of the emotions that had grown between you, a promise of the adventures you would embark upon together.

In the days that followed, you navigated the challenges of life in National City side by side, leaning on each other's strengths and supporting each other through the trials that arose. Amidst the chaos of the world, you found solace and joy in each other's company, held together by a love that was as powerful as the sun that illuminated the sky.

THE END

[downbad4fyodor]

Ty Moye Solntse

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x Reader Genre: Angst Summary: Fyodor uses his last moments with you to give a sense of reassurance. Warnings: Angst Notes: late night writing because I fell asleep watching a movie with my boyfriend and had a dream about this, so… decided to inflict my pain on everyone else so I know I’m not the only one suffering <3

As you lay there, weakened and fading, you find yourself cradled in Fyodor Dostoevsky's arms. His usually stoic face betrays a rare vulnerability, his eyes filled with an intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul. The weight of the moment hangs heavy in the air, as if time itself has momentarily frozen, allowing you to savor these precious last moments together.

Gently, almost as if afraid to disturb your fragile state, Fyodor begins to sing. His voice, normally tinged with a haunting melancholy, softens to a tender, delicate melody. The words spill forth from his lips, each syllable laced with a mixture of love, longing, and a profound sense of loss.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray," his voice trembles, raw with emotion, as he strokes your hair with gentle fingers, his touch a bittersweet reassurance. The song, a lullaby of solace and heartache, serves as a bittersweet reminder of the countless times he sang it to calm your troubled soul.

"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you," Fyodor's voice trembles, resonating with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. It's as if he's pouring his soul into each note, his voice carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid sentiments. The intensity of his emotions becomes almost palpable, and you feel the overwhelming ache of love that radiates from his very core.

"Please don't take my sunshine away," he pleads, his voice cracking with the weight of impending loss. The vulnerability in his voice is both heartbreaking and strangely beautiful, as if he's stripped bare, revealing the depths of his soul for you alone. The rawness of his emotions intertwines with your fading consciousness, melding into a symphony of love, sorrow, and acceptance.

The room seems to blur around you, but you hold on, grasping desperately to the ethereal moment. Fyodor's voice becomes your anchor, grounding you in a world that's slipping away. Each note becomes a lifeline, bridging the gap between life and death, as his words become a whispered promise of eternal devotion.

With each passing verse, the melody carries you closer to the precipice, where the boundaries of existence blur. Fyodor's voice, fragile yet resolute, guides you on this final journey, his presence an unwavering support even as the world fades into obscurity.

As the last echoes of the song dissipate into the silence, you find solace in Fyodor's embrace. His voice, laden with both love and sorrow, becomes a part of you, a cherished memory that will endure beyond the confines of time. And as you surrender to the inevitable, you are filled with a profound gratitude for the moments you shared, for the solace his voice brought you, and for the love that will forever linger in your heart.

[chickenparm]

Trivial Lessons Pt 3 (ScaraLumi)

Scaramouche isn’t as worldly as he thinks he is. Lumine is the only one he’d considering learning from.

AO3 LINK Previous Part | Next Part (To be posted)

Scaramouche/Lumine 1,859 Words - SFW No heinous tags - just a mountain of fluff and Scaramouche getting the physical affection he deserves.

---

Scaramouche expected his request to be put on the back burner. It’s suited for a project that Lumine can fiddle with occasionally, entering his space infrequently to send his mind spinning and his nerves buzzing with far too much nervous excitement to be considered healthy. 

Loneliness doesn’t have the spare moment to begin settling on his shoulders before he’s dragged from its clutches. It would be well within her right to push the matter down on her list of pressing matters, yet as he follows her out into the jungles of Sumeru while marveling at how deftly she hops over root and vine, it’s obvious that he’s risen higher on the list than he ever could have expected… though not for wanting. 

And that very want clutches at the bottom of his lungs, making it difficult to breathe as they make it to a flat section of grassland. The trails of her cape whip with how she turns to face him, walking backwards with her hands clasped behind her back. Even blind to where she’s going, she seems to be so sure of her own footsteps. 

“Sorry it’s so sudden. I know you’ve probably got better things to do than follow me around-”

“I don’t.” Scaramouche responds smoothly, as if he were stating that the skies are blue and the grass is green. For the first time, Lumine nearly stumbles over nothing at all, though she rights herself easily before Scaramouche can even think of reaching a hand to steady her. 

It should be concerning that he's so willing to enter her space on instinct, but it’s all he’s thought about, even before their little agreement. The notion of pressing the pads of his fingers against her skin brings a shortness of breath he’s only ever experienced in his lowest moments. To have it be associated with something that lingers so sweetly is something new and exciting.

As with any pleasant feeling, Scaramouche greedily wants his fill.

Unclasping her hands, she reaches to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The tips of her fingers brush against the plush of her cheek, pressing in just enough that Scaramouche can catch the lush give of it beneath even a gentle touch. How softly would he need to run his fingers over it before she wouldn’t give way? How delicate could he be?

Hands that have forgotten nearly everything but violence clench at his sides. Time is what he has in abundance now, and it’s best used unlearning habits that are no longer conducive toward his goals. What he aims for now stands in front of him, a surprised little smile on her face. 

“Well, at least you won’t be bored?”

Once, when she’d given him a place to call his own in her home, Scaramouche told Lumine that he would always be honest with her. Others might not receive that same courtesy, but the unnecessary lengths she’d gone to for his sake without asking for anything in return have proven she’s worthy of that. 

It’s with this resolution in mind that his tongue darts out to wet his lips, unnecessary with the thick humidity in the air that coats everything, and rebuffs, “I don’t get bored with you, Lumine. Not now, and not before… this.”

His hand gestures vaguely between them, an offer for her to fill in that prevalent blank with whatever her mind suggests first. It could’ve been their alliance that had once started out tenuous, but lingered worrying close to a dependency he’s ill equipped to rebuke. Or, perhaps he might have been referring to how she’d promised to guide him in something that she was well within her rights to scoff at. 

Both of the answers would be correct. The way her cheeks flush into a pretty peach color tells Scaramouche which one she’s picked - and he can’t complain when her attempt to hide her smile by biting her cheek is a failure. 

Business comes first, despite how he wants to explore the reasons for exactly why Lumine reacts the way she does. The commissions she’d taken on were laughably easy, something she certainly didn’t need his help for. But existing in her presence feels exactly how the air had tasted on his tongue the moment his feet had touched grass for the first time. Crisp, clear, centering when the world is unfamiliar and terrifying. 

Guiltily, he relishes the sensation as the sun hangs lower in the sky and the great tree of Sumeru City looms above them with its sprawling foliage. In its shade, the city feels cooler than the claustrophobic heat of the jungle beyond its walls. The temperature grows cooler as they descend into its roots, beneath where the sun can reach and warmth instead comes from the friendliness of those who frequent the Grand Bazaar.

Not so long ago, he counted himself as one of them. Even with the memories firmly in his mind, his body still feels foreign compared to those who pass by. Zubayr Theater is a hotspot of locals, even though no performance is happening today. Instead, the redheaded little dancer from that very morning approaches in clothing that’s far more casual than what he’s witnessed during her shows. 

“Thank you, Lumine! This helps so much, what a relief.” Nilou makes a show of her shoulders slumping for but a moment before her poise returns. Some payment is exchanged in a satchel that Lumine doesn’t even bother to count, rather she tucks it away in preparation for what she seems to know is coming. 

Nilou’s arms fling around Lumine’s shoulders, squeezing her happily as she stands on the tips of her toes. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do in return. Oh! We’re holding a show this weekend, all three evenings. You should come by if you have time!”

“Wouldn’t miss it, Nilou. I’ll shoot for Friday.”

And Nilou positively beams as Lumine returns the embrace without hesitation. The two of them make a pretty picture - gold and red, the white of Lumine’s dress and the azure of Nilou’s draped clothing. Despite this being an act of two, rather than of one, Scaramouche’s eyes linger only on the actions of the Traveler. 

The ease that she returned Nilou’s affection makes something foul and familiar twist in his gut. Not for the first time in his life has he felt envious - it’s lived in his veins since the moment he had something to covet. Whether it be a friend, a family, a heart, a reason for existing that others seemed to find so easily… Scaramouche understands jealousy intimately. Lumine’s fingers pressed into the fabric of Nilou’s back, her smile wide, her joy clear enough that someone like him with only a foggy grasp on that level of happiness can still understand it. 

When they part, when Lumine falls into step beside him as they make their way to the upper levels for that evening’s dinner, she finally broaches how he’s fallen into silence that’s more consuming than his normal placidity. At the crook of his elbow, her fingers curl tight enough for him to feel through the brace, and she asks, “Want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

No, he wants to blurt, because it’s embarrassing. 

Mortifying that he wants something so… primal. Affection, physical touch, but only from the one person that he could stand to spend any amount of time with. It feels too selfish to demand of her, though Scaramouche is far from benevolent and generous. In another life, one he’s lived before, it would have been so easy to cock his head to the side with wide eyes and ask if she’d treat him as she’d done with Nilou. 

But hadn’t he already done that? In fact, he’d initially requested more. Something this simple shouldn’t bring this debilitating level of shame, enough to make his limbs feel weak and his skin heat. The tunnel to the upper levels is dark enough to hide his flustered state, and perhaps it’s the dimness that gives him the courage to ask, “I want a second lesson.”

“Well, alright. I didn’t want to move too quickly, but if that’s what you want.”

Emboldened by Lumine’s immediate agreement, he bends his elbow to bring her to a stop, trapping her hand despite Lumine making no move to break away. With a steadying breath, he pushes himself over the ledge he’s terrified of. “Can I hold you like that?”

Lumine, always quick to pick up on his meanings, tips her head to the side and looks at him with infinite patience. “Like with Nilou? Are you asking for a hug?”

Yes, he is. But despite the certainty, he can only nod mutely. The bravado is gone beneath her scrutiny, as good-natured as it may be. With a gentle tug, Lumine turns him toward her and steps close enough that the toes of her shoes brush against his own. Even at this distance - so close that he can feel her warmth through the layers between them - Scaramouche’s chest clenches with a need so strong it’s almost worrying. The overwhelming pressure feels unbearable.

“Do you want to hold me? Or would you rather I hold you?”

“I didn’t think there was a difference.” 

And her quiet laughter doesn’t feel like the slap in the face it would have if it came from anyone else on this plane of existence. Instead it has a similar sensation to what he assumes it would feel like to be on the receiving end of the same gesture he’d just observed. Safe, warm, addictive.

The hand on his elbow steadies him, even as his thoughts threaten to race away uncontrollably. Slowly, deliberately even, she explains, “Of course there is. I think it’s simplest to describe it like this. Do you want to protect, or be protected?”

“I can’t choose both?”

“Not always. How do you feel right now, in this moment?” At the crook of his elbow, where the guards turn to fabric to allow movement, Lumine’s thumb passes along skin that’s sensitive enough to feel the movement intimately. “For the first time, how about you let me make you feel safe? Next time, you can decide for yourself.”

Next time. That one little phrase echoes in his brain, louder and louder in a cacophony that bangs against any thought that might have formed in the interim. Its silencing only comes from Lumine looping her arms beneath his, palms at his shoulder blades to pull him closer. Pliable at her behest, he lets her position him exactly where she wants - chin on her shoulder, chest pressed to her own, arms hesitantly looped around her waist. 

Slowly, with more confidence, his clinging grows tighter until he’s certain it must be uncomfortable. But Lumine doesn’t waver, only laughing under her breath and smoothing a hand down the curve of his upper spine, then back up. At his cheek as it presses against the pulse at her neck, Lumine’s heartbeat thrums, lulling him into uncharacteristic peace until his eyes flutter closed in appreciation of such bliss.

Lumine’s heart races freely, fluttering like the smallest of birds in his ear. 

[industria-adastra]

[Genshin Impact] - The answer given by god, tastes like sand - Chapter two: Act V, finale

Summary: The curtain falls, and the program resets to a clean slate.

Note: I forgot to crosspost chapter two here oops

Prev | Next

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From the mourning grey skies, rain thundered down onto the broken concrete; the noise competing with the screeching laughter of that thing in the skies. Looking at the battered, but thankfully still alive, bodies of all their schoolmates—Navia, Clorinde, Lynette, Charlotte… Countless magical girls, each and every one of them formidable in their own right—all powerless beneath the might of Walpurgisnacht. And there they stood, just the two of them, watching the most powerful witch in the world burn and tear it apart like mere paper.

“Furina, please, you can’t go alone—You don’t have to do this alone. I can help you if you’d just let me. Kyubey said that I—” Neuvillette grasped Furina’s hands tightly, unwilling to let her go. This wasn’t the time to play the lone hero. Why couldn’t Furina understand—no, accept this help she so desperately proffered?

“No,” Just like that, Furina cut her off. “Not this time.” Her words were firm, resolute. There was a finality in them that terrified Neuvillette more than anything. Something big was going to happen. Something life-changing, world-shattering and everything was all moving too fast for her liking.

“What do you mean?”

Just like before, an answer wasn’t given. She only smiled brightly, moonlight upon ocean tides. The harsh winds tugged at her hair and her clothes; battering them both. 

“Furina?”

All of a sudden, Furina pulled away, slipping from her hold as easily as water flowed.

“Farewell, Levia,” she said, turning away, leaving her grasp, leaping away—towards the danger, towards the unknown, towards what was certain death. 

“Furina—!” Neuvilletted cried out, reaching out and being able to catch nothing. Something forcefully pulled her back, even as Neuvillette strained at those magical bonds. She watched as Furina’s figure moved further and further away, becoming smaller and fainter. Neuvillette pulled and yanked at those bonds with all her might, clawing at the sky, desperate to move forward. Her limbs burned with the exertion, but still, she pulled and pulled and pulled—

Suddenly, an explosion of light overwhelmed her, and Neuvillette found herself slamming against a watery wall, trapped in a safe haven with everyone else. With an undignified grunt, she stumbled onto the rapidly widening puddles, likely skinning herself somewhere. But without giving herself even a moment to spare, Neuvillette clawed at the walls of the prison, trying in vain to part the waters—to let her out. Her fingers couldn’t find any sort of grip, sliding through the liquid like the time that slipped through her hands.

Neuvillette could see her, blurry from the watery walls but she could see her—stark white and elegant blues, gold threaded through in-between. She could see her, dancing across the skies, so effortlessly avoiding all of Walpurgisnacht’s attacks. But further away, Furina always moved, guiding the massive witch away. 

All the while, something started to form within the rain. Above their heads, something pulsed faintly, shining in a way that could only be the work of magic. Neuvillette continued to try and break free, using more force, switching tactics to ram her shoulder against the unyielding walls. Nary a spot of imperfection, a gap to exploit, could be found. Helplessly, Neuvillette could only watch as a giant sword of water manifested, as solid as any other blade could be.

Walpurgisnacht laughed, and multicoloured fire whorled around in the skies, weaving in-between the buildings thrown around like a child’s playthings. She could barely make out Furina and the blade, the only bright spots against the murky grey and visual insanity. Drummed into her ears was an unceasing stream of frenzied laughter, so manic that she couldn’t tell if it was either from cruel joy or maddening despair. Struggling still, Neuvillette was forced to be only a spectator, her energy draining with every blow, watching as the now complete blade started to spin, ready to fall at any moment. Destruction echoed around her, but never was it able to penetrate the ironclad barriers protecting them all. 

“Furina,” Neuvillette rasped, scrabbling against the walls, unable to reach out. Imagining the feel of her hair, the softness of her skin.

Then suddenly, Walpurgisnacht froze, held in place by the rapidly tightening coils of a reptilian creature. With bated breath, all was still.

The sword fell, and so did Walpurgisnacht’s head, cleaved from her shoulders in a single blow.

And in that moment, the world exploded into fiery light, and all she heard was screaming, screaming, screaming.

Just as Neuvillette’s went dark.

-

Rain drizzled from the skies, accompanied by the hatefully gentle sunlight which peeked from the clouds. 

Surrounded by bodies, either unconscious or dead, Neuvillette cradled a battered body in her arms. The weight in her arms was almost featherlight. If she held her more firmly, would she disappear like the morning mist, and would Neuvillette simply wake up in her bed, having slept over at her place once more?

The sting of her wounds, the disgusting dampness heavy on her skin, told Neuvillette her answer.

She stared down at her body and thought that she might scream. But she did not, even as her heart beat faster and faster, battering at the walls; agony sunk its claws into her throat, into her chest. Her eyes stung painfully, her face was like stone, and Neuvillette could not shed a single tear.

“You can still save her, you know. Just like she saved you.” A casually clinical tone—entirely out of place—cut through the static haze of her mourning. Neuvillette’s head snapped towards that familiar voice, gaze meeting his blankly. Her fingers curled tighter around Furina’s all-too-cold body, unconsciously bruising the skin. Closer, and closer, Neuvillette hugged Furina to her chest as quickly, as gently as she could. 

“What do you mean?” Long water-logged hair shadowed her widened eyes, which stared with new desperation at the small creature. Above, the skies rapidly shifted to a gunmetal grey, and thunder rumbled in the heavens.

“A contract, of course! All you have to do is simply make a wish with me!” Kyubey tilted his head, the smile on his face as constant as the existence of darkness. “With your potential, I’m sure whatever wish you’ll make will change the world!”

(The naive girl she’d been had looked at the carmine red of Kyubey’s eyes, and thought that she’d found hope)

“Could you bring her back?” Raspy words stuttered from her throat, desperation lining every word.

“Unfortunately, even a miracle like that is beyond my reach,” he replied, flicking his tail to and fro. “A human’s soul disappears upon death. As such, magical girls are no exception to this rule of nature.”

Hearing that, Neuvillette bitterly spat, “What good are your miracles for then, if you can’t do something like that?”

Unperturbed, the creature said, “If you wish to be Furina de Fontaine’s hero, then there are other ways of changing fate.”

“Change…fate?” she muttered, tracing a finger down Furina’s cheek, all the way to the short ends of her hair. Minutes passed, until finally, in an empty voice, she said, “Ah, of course, I see now.” Shifting her hand back to hold Furina’s head, Neuvillette pressed their foreheads together, ghosting their lips imperceptibly close, only for her to whisper. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

Even with a strengthened resolve, Neuvillette’s words, at first, had been quiet, barely able to be heard above the now thundering rain. “Then, Kyubey, I wish…. I wish—!” she said, sucking in a heaving breath, voice gaining strength and volume. Clutching onto Furina’s cold form, she’d pleaded for a miracle, steady words created from shaky hope.

(She should’ve remembered what happened to Faust; the devil will come when you are at your happiest)

Agony coursed through her being as something was wrenched forth from deep within, like the tearing of sinew, tendons and flesh, almost as if Kyubey had torn away her heart. Neuvillette gritted her teeth and bore through the pain, only allowing herself to subtly claw at the flesh of her thighs with staggered movements. For a moment and eternity, she held her breath, and when at last something pulled free, a loud exhale forced its way out. 

“Very well, congratulations! Your wish has exceeded entropy, and created a miracle!” The shifting colours of a luminous ball of light exploded into being, drawing Neuvillette’s gaze.

Entranced by its siren song, Neuvillette finally let go of Furina’s body, reaching out to grasp for a better reality

And in that moment, this reality shattered around her, and the seas of time swallowed her within its embrace. 

Neuvillette closed her eyes, remembering the numb cold in her fingertips, and vowed that such a bleak future would never come to pass once more.

-

epilogue…?

When she woke, Neuvillette found herself curled around Furina—who was mercifully, gloriously warm, latched onto Neuvillette. Her hair was beautifully long, shining under the early morning sunlight, and neither could Neuvillette feel the hard press of metal which had been magically present that other day.

(Nor should she feel it, on this day. Neuvillette would make sure it’d never appear on her finger; the accursed shackle that chained Furina to her death)

Neuvillette tangled her fingers within those strands, admiring the physical tether. Checking to see if Furina was still asleep, she found no sign of her threatening to wake. So with that confirmed, Neuvillette drew close Furina’s hair and gave it a kiss. At that moment, sunlight hit the new silver band on her right ring finger.

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and today would be a wonderful day.

Set variable X to 1

[heliianth]

uhhh sa2 ending on the brain... gonna drop this and run

For a brief time in human history, Death was just another disease. Some unremarkable facet of organic imperfection that riddled endangered or aging Homo sapiens populations. Curable, in the near future, through use of a vaccine developed from the blood and body of mankind’s own handmade Moses. 

Shadow sees him through tired eyes. Humanity’s guiding light, blinding golden and righteous. The Ultimate Lifeform. His lungs shred on the coarse vacuum of space, “I think it may be you!”

Their hands brush and his inhibitors burn white-hot. They say something together, but he blinks for a second and misses it. What’s happening? He feels like something is slipping through his fingers. 

Shadow used to wonder about Death and Life in balance. His eyes set on blue and black alike, ears awash with news of the plague. He spent his life in proximity, hearing it through weak muscles and frail bones and the pitter pattering of Maria’s footsteps. She would be patient zero of immortality. No need to worry, the age of common gods was bright and close, like an approaching dawn. But she cultivated his doubt. What if his blood ran red? Would she suffer? What kind of mistress is Death?

She screams like gunshots. Unforgivable. They’re all contagious.

It was for her, giving them all that hope. That was his purpose, was it not? 

Purify.

Bring humanity to some… resolution… by all means necessary. 

“Shadow!” 

He watches the light drain from his paws. Framed between them is that star. No matter how far he falls from it, it seems to follow him. When he was close enough to brush it, it was the color of the sun. 

Maria, this is what you wanted, right? This is the promise I made to you. 

The cold slides between his teeth, sticks her fingers into everything she can find. Her grip clogs his throat and makes each breath rattle. He’s symptomatic. 

“No, no! Grab onto me!” 

He waves it away. Whatever he’s contracted, it’s peaceful.

Death opens him up, one layer of flesh at a time.

Fifteen seconds later, something impacts the Earth’s atmosphere and paints the Central City skies in a sunrise. 

[snackerdoodle]

books I read in 2023

I had a huge reading year this year because of my gruelingly long commute. The list below the cut is mostly for my own edification, but I’m a nosy person who supports other nosy people, so if you want to know what I’ve been up to, have at it. Almost everything I read this year was from the library.

1/12 A Charmed Life, Diana Wynne Jones

1/18 The Lesbiana’s Guide to Catholic School, Sonora Reyes

1/24 The Life-Changing Magic of 

Tidying Up, Marie Kondo

1/25 Hotel Magnifique, Emily J. Taylor

1/30 Spark Joy, Marie Kondo 

2/2 The House in the Cerulean Sea, TJ Klune

2/8 The Golden Enclaves, Naomi Novik

2/8 Delilah Green Doesn’t Care, Ashley Herring Blake

2/15 The Nile, Toby Wilkinson

2/23 The Painted Queen, Elizabeth Peters and Joan Hess

2/28 Ella Enchanted, Gail Carson Levine

3/5 Tipping the Velvet, Sarah Waters

3/12 Lord of the Silent, Elizabeth Peters

3/16 Marie Kondo’s Kurashi at Home, Marie Kondo 

3/20 Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life, Ruth Franklin

3/20 The Art of Simple Living, Shunmyo Masuno

3/26 The Bird’s Nest, Shirley Jackson

4/11 Life Among the Savages, Shirley Jackson

4/12 A People’s History of the United States, Howard Zinn

4/18 The Yellow Wallpaper and Other Stories, Charlotte Perkins Gilman

4/21 Rest Is Resistance: A Manifesto, Tricia  Hersey

5/1 Last Night at the Telegraph Club, Malinda Lo

5/3 Astrid Parker Doesn’t Fail, Ashley Herring Blake

5/10 Fight Like Hell: The Untold Story of American Labor, Kim Kelly

5/11 Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, Joy Harjo 

5/12 Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, Reni Eddo-Lodge

5/15 The Lottery and Other Stories, Shirley Jackson

5/18 The Lives of Christopher Chant, Diana Wynne Jones

5/29 A Little Devil in America, Hanif Abdurraqib

6/3 A Marvellous Light, Freya Marske

6/6 Ducks, Kate Beaton 

6/8 Wild and Wicked Things, Francesca May (awful. Every character was an idiot. Why did I finish this)

6/10 Breathing Lessons: A Doctor’s Guide to Lung Health, Meilan K. Han, MD

6/19 The Three Body Problem, Cixin Liu

6/19 A Fortune for Your Disaster, Hanif Abdurraqib (I liked this even more than the last one I read. Maybe because it was an audiobook read by the author.)

6/22 Disjointed, Diana Jovin (ed) (skipped parts that were totally unrelated to me and some things that were also too technical)

6/22 The Lavender Scare, David K. Johnson

6/26 Enquête au collège, Jean-Phillipe Arrou-Vignod 

6/28 The Thief, Megan Whalen Turner

7/3 Last Call, Elon Green

7/12 Cache Cache Petit Fantôme

7/13 Le Petit Prince, Antoine de Saint-

Exupéry

7/13 La fille qui navigua autour de féérie dans un bateau construit de ses propres mains, Catherynne M Valente

7/14 Lost in the Moment and Found, Seanan McGuire

7/14 Ich mag dich gesund sagte der Bär, Janosch

7/25 The Lies of Locke Lamora, Scott Lynch

7/31 The Adventures of Amina Al-Sirafi, Shannon Chakraborty

8/10 A Restless Truth, Freya Marske 

8/16 Camp Damascus, Chuck Tingle

9/6 The Body in the Garden, Katherine Schellman

9/11 Silence in the Library, Katherine Schellman

9/13 When Things Get Dark, various 

9/19 Death at the Manor, Katherine Schellman

9/25 Sorcery and Cecelia, Patricia C Wrede and Caroline Stevermer

10/3 The Grand Tour, Patricia C Wrede and Caroline Stevermer 

10/6 Murder at Midnight, Katharine Schellman

10/12 The Mislaid Magician, Patricia C Wrede and Caroline Stevermer

10/18 Shakespeare Was a Woman and Other Heresies, Elizabeth Winkler

10/18 Harry Potter und der Stein der Weisen, JK Rowling

10/25 Poisoner in Chief: Sidney Gottlieb and the CIA search for Mind Control, Stephen Kinzer

11/1 Iris Kelly Doesn’t Date, Ashley Herring Blake

11/3 Nothing But Blackened Teeth, Cassandra Shaw

11/9 Unfuck Your Habitat, Rachel Hoffman

11/11 Safe and Sound, Mercury Stardust 

11/12 Organizing Solutions for People with ADHD (revised and updated), Susan C. Pinskey

11/18 Red Seas under Red Skies, Scott Lynch

11/20 In With the Old: Classic Decor A to Z,  Jennifer Boles 

11/23 Habitat: The Field Guide to Decorating, Lauren Liess

11/24 Vermeer: The Complete Paintings, Norbert Schneider 

11/29 The Conscious Closet, Elizabeth L. Cline

12/4 Leech, Hiron Ennes

12/6 The Star that Always Stays, Anna Rose Johnson 

P12/14 The Republic of Thieves, Scott Lynch

12/15 An American Sunrise, Joy Harjo

12/20 The Wife Upstairs, Rachel Hawkins

12/22 How to Keep House While Drowning, KC Davis

12/30 The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning, Margareta Magnusson 

Gave up on: The Woman Who Would Be King, Kara Cooney (too speculative/fictionalized)

A Scatter of Light, Malinda Lo (nothing really wrong, it just wasn’t holding my attention at all)

14 histoires pour avoir peur mais pas trop quand même (turned into full cast audio and the music between stories was really annoying)

Manhunt, Gretchen Felker-Martin (not in the right headspace maybe, maybe just not for me)

American Cozy, Stephanie Pedersen (got annoyed at how much of the information hinged on living in a huge suburban home with 18 closets and a husband and multiple children you can make do your chores for you)

The Curated Closet, Anuschka Rees (not bad just not what I was looking for)

[linklewinklewoman]

Open AI wrote a scene where Linkle uses her Noble Phantasm

(Scene Setting: The Holy Grail War is in full swing, and Linkle, the brave and determined Archer-class Servant, finds herself facing off against a formidable opponent in a ruined city. The enemy Servant, a powerful Lancer, lunges forward with a deadly strike towards Linkle.)

Linkle: (Determined) "You won't lay a finger on my Master! It's time to call in some special reinforcements!"

(She raises her dual crossbows high into the air, and with a resolute shout, activates her Noble Phantasm.)

Linkle: "O Cucco, guardians of courage and clucks, From skies above, descend upon my foes! With magic and might, protect me from harm, In feathered fury, unleash your throes!

Cucco Stampede - Cluckin' Calamity Carnival!"

(A radiant burst of light surrounds Linkle, and from the skies above, a portal opens, releasing a swarm of magical cuccos. These cuccos are larger and more vibrant than their normal counterparts, shimmering with magical energy.)

Lancer: (Confused) "What is this madness? Chickens? Ha! Do you take me for a fool?"

(Linkle smiles confidently as the cuccos envelop her, forming a protective barrier.)

Linkle: "Don't underestimate them! These aren't your ordinary cuccos!"

(The Lancer scoffs and attempts to strike Linkle with their lance. However, as soon as the weapon nears her, the cuccos spring into action.)

Cuccos: (Angry squawks) "Cluck, cluck, cluck!"

(The cuccos swarm around the Lancer, pecking and flapping their wings with surprising force.)

Lancer: (Taken aback) "Argh! Get these foul creatures off me!"

(But the more the Lancer tries to fight back, the more cuccos emerge from the portal, surrounding the area in a whirlwind of feathers and squawking.)

Linkle: "Haha! Now you see the true power of my Cucco Carnival! They won't back down until you do!"

(The Lancer, now completely engulfed in a flurry of cuccos, struggles to maintain their balance, their attacks becoming more and more erratic.)

Lancer: (Frantic) "This is ridiculous! I can't even land a hit!"

(Despite their best efforts, the Lancer finds it impossible to focus on Linkle as the cuccos relentlessly defend her.)

Linkle: "You've underestimated the power of these adorable creatures! But they're not to be trifled with!"

(With a triumphant laugh, Linkle seizes the opportunity and fires a volley of arrows at the Lancer, each shot guided with uncanny precision thanks to the cuccos' protection.)

Lancer: (Defeated) "Enough! I yield!"

(The Lancer raises a white flag, signaling their surrender. The cuccos, upon sensing the end of the threat, return to their portal, disappearing as quickly as they arrived.)

Linkle: (With a grin) "A wise choice. Remember, never underestimate the cluck of courage!"

(The battle ends with Linkle emerging victorious, her Cucco Stampede - Cluckin' Calamity Carnival proving to be a humorous yet effective Noble Phantasm in protecting her and turning the tide of battle in her favor.)

[tsuukirana]

✦˚ ·  𝟎𝟏 | 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑

Teyvat was a weary place, battered and beaten by the history of war. Mortals come across these barren lands to dream. While very few make it out as heroes and survivors, many come and go as quietly as the wind. One woman stands against the story of time, destined to tread upon this unholy ground with nothing more than an outstretched, soft hand. Darkness can rise to her neck but she never once dared to look down. Her followers wish to be beside her as she veers to the land of defeated gods, hoping to solve a forgotten mystery.

The Tsaritsa’s right hand is a lonesome soul, constantly wandering the snow-covered grounds of Snezhnaya. Those serving beneath her swear their loyalty by the blade, guided truthfully by the sound of her gentle voice. Her youthful face shields a thousand years of unspoken torment, yet she continues forth her journey in overseeing the future, hoping there might be change. 

Back to 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 & 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒?

Explore 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓?

Inspired by Aponia, the Third Flame-Chaser by Honkai Impact 3rd.  

Pressing your thumbs together, you slowly close yourself, letting yourself open up to the gentle breeze of the wind. Its soft calling guides your mind to a peaceful and quiet resolution. Leaning slightly against the carriage wall, you smell pinewood whiffing through the air. It’s been quite some time since you’ve longed for the feeling of open skies and plains. You suppose that after countless expeditions to the dark Abyss, it would leave you desperate for the sun’s warm rays. It was a complete world above the surface. 

Cracking your eyes open slightly, you stare at your tinted windows, noticing the way your carriage passes through lush, green forests. Their arms graze the side of the vehicle, reaching out to you. Grasses dance alongside the breeze, blowing ever so meekly. You seemed too fascinated by your surroundings to have noticed the way your navy-haired companion sighed under his breath. 

He finds the prosaic task of researching meteorite strikes to be too mundane. He dares call it a disrespect if it had not been ordered by the Jester. If he had any choice in the matter, he would have wanted to explore the Abyss for it would have made great work of his time. But at last, he was left on a journey of a lifetime. What was more exciting than learning about some rocks? He drowned, his sarcasm dripping ever so poisonously. He leans into his open palm, raising one leg over the other. Nevertheless, when he looks to meet your dull eyes, he is reminded why he accepted such a mediocre job.

He notes that your face is as young as freshly bloomed flowers of spring, the colors of your eyes bringing him back to the days in which he enriched himself in the beauty of Inazuma’s gardens. While they seemed dull and muddy, they hold a glimmer of light from deep within, something he occasionally wishes to gauge from your form. He swears that he is the only person who can bear witness to your luster. Black sleeves contrast your battered skin, scars so jagged it was violent. When he lowers his gaze, he can see small, transparent wrinkles which glide across your hand. It was like an elaborate constellation that functions as a map to your heart. 

And while you may hide your glory behind a thin, white veil, you bear thorns so sharp and thick that he fears being swallowed up by them. Flowers grow on your shoulders. They lean into your collarbone and remind him about how elusive you are. They blossom alongside your snowy veil, dancing along the bottom edges of your neck. 

You raise your hand to caress the collar of your clothes, fidgeting a smooth gem. You remember the day the Tsaritsa lovingly held you in her arms, a gift that perhaps weighed heavier than your small trinket. She calls you her child as she brushes aside strands of your hair. While the world prides itself in its darkness, let your light be your only guide. You let her graze your cheek with her frigid hands, her eyes filling you with a sense of adoration and worship. You would have never thought that a nation’s ruler could look at you in such a way. You think this service is fleeting. 

It’s too intimate, too loving, and too pure. You wonder if she was doing this out of the kindness of her heart, or if it was an obligation to someone she met in a previous life. Someone that she once loved. Someone she once worshipped even. Shades of blue and purple intertwine with each other, mixing to create what you could only describe as breathtaking. And while you think this gift shines brighter than you, she is there to correct you and say that it will never overshadow you, for you are what gives it life. Her voice sends shudders down your spine.

Let us celebrate the coming of a new nation, one birthed from the future! Pulling you to her side, she lets her soldiers raise their hands. Her men, now transferred underneath your care, clap gleefully for your accomplishment. Their uniforms are tight fitting and they stand with pride. May her light guide us to succession! When you stand before them as her right hand, you are reminded that this will be your new guard, army, and family. No matter how many come and go, you will always have people beside you. You clench your hand. In that case, it seems as if everyone is expendable. 

You try not to think about it for you should bathe in their adoration and love. Regardless of what you do, and what blood you must spill, they will stay with you for eternity. They will remain by your side until Teyvat turns to ash, and when Celestia kneels her head under your heel. If you told them to offer their everything, the clothes on their backs, the families they left behind, they would do it in a heartbeat, not because they have nothing to lose, but because they love you. 

It is fate, you presume. With great leaders come the best helpers. Those who will trample all that stands in your way, their hands outstretched to grasp at any opportunity of expanding your empire, these were the kinds of individuals you’ve welcomed in your arms. Witches and puppets fall prey to your charms. Even the most reasonable of people cannot resist the desire of being wanted. You accept their love willingly, knowing well that human life is nothing more but a passing time on your grand scale. Harbingers, you like that title. It is smooth when it runs down your tongue. You like the sentiment as well. 

So when you raise your hand to countless lost souls, offering them a future, you warn Celestia of the end of her time.

The navy-haired man nibbles on the tips of his nails, watching as your fingers interlace with each other. He describes this as a short yet fragile barrier. Your presence was so close yet so far from him, the gentle scent of vanilla only reminding him about how short his relationship is with you. 

It is not every day that a Harbinger is to accompany the Tsaritsa’s hand. Especially with something as mundane as collecting meteorite samples for the Jester. You’ve always been doing your tasks alone in secrecy, with only the First of the Fatui Harbingers by your ear. So to what god did he pray for this opportunity? He laughs. To see your extraordinary vision enlighten him of the future seemed like a strange blessing. He suspects that you were going to be the first people to meet the Traveler. Whether or not it was meant to scare the outlander is left to his interpretation. 

It’s a shame that between the two of you, neither shared enough words for him to feel remotely satisfied. He might even say he was a bit insatiable when it comes to you. Something about you drives him over the wall. It might have been the distant look in your pupil or the way you hold yourself and move like some sort of puppet on strings. Everything you do has been perfectly calculated to the smallest detail. You were living in your script and your eyes never once left the page. He thinks it's fascinating and that he was merely trying to satiate his curiosity.

You had always spoken with a voice so tender and loving that he swears you are mocking him. It feels like he was underneath a spell with how hypnotically you curved your vowels. He thinks you might be some sort of witch who allures her victims with the promise of glory. You’ve gathered not only the most uncooperative people under your thumb, but you’ve also leashed all of them like dogs. He scoffs under his breath. He was merely coping, that’s all. He knows damn well you wouldn’t hurt a fly if you could catch it. 

Biting the side of his cheek, he stares you down. He swears to his empty heart that he likes no one in the Fatui. He knows this to be true so why does he feel deprived when you are not around? When you are not roaming the halls or leaving trails of flowers, why does he feel sick? To him, being stuck in a palace so grand and hollow, filled to the brim with the worst of humans made him nauseous. And yet when you are there, leaning against the Tsaritsa, your presence makes it all the more bearable. Had it not been you hosting such lavish feasts, he would have long abandoned them.

He thinks his emotions are bittersweet. This yearning feeling he had brought forth into this world was something he loathed. He hates to admit that you were an extraordinary being in his life, someone whose heart holds no bounds, and he would have mockingly commended you for leaving yourself vulnerable. Though, he tastes something sour grow on his tongue when he thinks of the way you drag your feet across tiled floors. It makes him think you held chains that were heavier than his. Guilt was something no Harbinger expresses, so why must you hold it so freely in front of others? Perhaps it was simply in your nature. 

He likes to believe that you and he are the same. Two lonesome beings whose tears fall too easily in the dead of night. With hands too fragile and scared to make mistakes. You both have blood that is too sacred to let fall. Was it a curse? To be given a burdensome existence where no one wins. Carrying grief so heavy you could feel your body break under the slightest of pressure. It’s too easy for anyone to give their everything in search of something easier. The underground must have had some sort of otherworldly allure to bring others to their knees. He tilts his head slightly to the side. You were a wandering question that had yet to be answered, a being lost in the space of time itself. He would call you pitiful if not for your kindness. 

He resents the idea of being found like a stray yet it brings back memories when he pictures your loving hand grazing his cheek. 

Where are you from, boy? You once said, your thin nails gently touching his skin. Do you need a place to call home? You, an unknown being whose eyes see the future, had found him at the edges of Snezhnaya, beaten and bruised. He didn’t know who you are, but he knew the look in your eyes. It was kind and loving. Welcoming like that traitorous Niwa. Could it be that he found comfort in your presence, or was he drawn forth by your sickeningly sweet honey?

He remembers your first meal with him. 

One day, you will regain your strength and claim what you’ve lost, you pour him a warm bowl of stew. It fills the air with its aromatic smell. Perhaps then, you will find satisfaction in your work. As he brings the wooden spoon to his lips, he glances up to meet your eyes. Snow rested peacefully against your skin, melting ever so slowly as you stirred the rest of the food. He notes the look of tranquility on your face, and questions if there was something you lost and cherished. Were you like him, or just someone who empathizes with his struggle?

He wants to call you a fool for letting him into your life so easily but can’t say it out loud. Not when he feels this unnatural emotion bubbling at the center of his stomach. He knows it to be different from the hatred he spills. He knows it is not to be compared with his grievances. It feels warm and odd. It feels like this soup. It’s comforting. Was your love for him like soup? No, it was more than just that.

He remembers your first gift to him.

What is your name? You asked, letting him lean his shoulder against you as the storm raged. Names are life’s first gift. The two of you were taking shelter in an abandoned cave. Going outside was dangerous. If you were to even step one foot out that opening, your legs and arms would be torn to shreds like a starving bear eating its prey. He closes his eyes for a moment. With nothing more but a small fire keeping the two of you warm, he allows you this moment to ask about him. I have no name, he replies, I’ve lost everything and so I am nothing. 

He had nothing to go by, not when he had abandoned his previous incarnates. He cannot call himself the same name his mother gave him, nor could he accept ones from his damaged family. He listens to the sound of your humming, your fingers tapping against the back of your hand. He feels you turn your head towards him. 

Balladeer, that seems like a nice name, doesn’t it? He leans his head against your shoulder, mumbling to call him anything. He didn’t think too much of it at the time but at that moment, he chose not to ask you why his heart beats faster. The Balladeer, Scaramouche. . . it fits you.

He remembers the proud look in your eyes.

Your hands were as warm as the campfire which you’d created, his skin growing warm as you smiled. You were the first person he wanted to see when he was crowned Harbinger. He wanted you to be there on the day of his coronation. And you were, thankfully. He tries not to feel bashful over the way you walked down the hall, your hands full of what he could only describe as unique and beautiful.

You will catch flies if you keep your mouth open, you joke. While we might not see each other as much, I wish you the best of luck in your journey. If he could, he would wish to be reborn at this very moment. He wants to see you pin his electro-plate to his chest again, and again. When he opens his mouth to ask you about its origins, you describe to him your harrowing journey of Inazuma. You explored the nation for the finest blacksmith who could carve the symbol of his power on tablets of gold. 

You were not shy to express your love, he remembers. He wanted to call you silly for going as far as to give him something so priceless, yet when you called him by his gifted name, Balladeer, he forgot all about it. 

He would have chalked you to be a fool for your overwhelming kindness and love, but as he raises his hand to touch the golden plate on his chest, brushing his slender fingers across the smooth surface, he could only feel the way his heart beats a little quicker. What could this feeling be? Was it respect for you as a fellow Harbinger, or something more? What was it that made him feel this way? What could this feeling be and what would you call it?

He finds it to be bitter and sweet that it hurts him. It hurts to say that he would swear his successes to you and no one else. It becomes difficult to breathe when his illustration of eternity is one he could share with you, the Tsaritsa’s hand. You will always have him trailing behind you as long as you allow it. Great leaders always have the best helpers.

The Balladeer calls your name, to which you reply with a faint hum. He dares not to call you “La Strega” as your service was much more than providing destruction. He thinks of it as an insult to address you as a foreign monster when you’ve been nothing but benevolent. And while he may be a hypocrite to some, he would be as truthful as he could with you. He doesn’t hesitate to call his other subordinates the wrong name, but will never do so to you.

“I ask why you have chosen to attend to such mundane tasks. It would have been easier to have left the job to someone else, especially if it was about the recent meteor strikes. Perhaps it could have been left with,” Tartaglia, “another Fatui member stationed in Liyue.” He chooses to leave the man’s name out of his mouth. 

He scrunches up his face as proof of his thoughts but does not let the image of him rile him. The idea of you bringing along that bastard man produced a rotten taste in his mouth. He was sure that if you were to bring along the russet-haired man on your journey through Liyue, he would only cause you trouble. What could that man possibly do other than get into mischief? He resists the urge to sigh. The mere thought of Tartaglia, Childe, or Ajax had always left him feeling exhausted. It was like saying his name wore him out.

He finds working with him unbearable, so what could he possibly make with the two of you being together? He would most likely drag you all around the city of Liyue for something as simple as sightseeing when the two of you had nothing more than work. The man of battle was nothing more but a starving child who wanted to enjoy the fruits of life, so naive and foul, the Balladeer describes. 

He dismisses his thoughts as nothing more but a precaution or warning to you as a fellow Harbinger, though the stinging sensation that pricks his chest wants to tell him otherwise. “I believe that we could use our troops better by having them search the area for any samples. Having us dispatched to Liyue would only attract attention.”

You turn your head towards him, dull eyes taking glances at him. He feels his hands grow clammy at the sight but he focuses on the way your lips slowly part themselves. “I think it’s a nice change of pace. Exploring the nation of Liyue with such a noticeable guide would be difficult.”

“Nevertheless, Teyvat’s Traveler will also be researching the same meteorite strike. It would be wise for us to scout them,” You squeeze your hand, holding your breath for a mere moment, “I’ve already seen some of Tartaglia’s letters and reports. He’s been sparring with them consistently and taking them out for lunch.  It wouldn’t be in our favor if we had him around.”

“So we should disguise ourselves.”

“It appears that is the case.”

He huffs, leaning back against his cushioned seat. What a drag, he says to himself. If it was any other task, he might be able to finish his job quickly. “What are we supposed to say? Our clothes are going to be a dead giveaway that we are associated with the Fatui. I look like I came out of Inazuma, you look like you came out of Snezhnaya’s local church.” He points to you. “Our reason for traveling together must be vague enough for anyone to believe.” 

You chuckle. “I suppose we are in a predicament.” 

He clicks his tongue. Of course, you were unaffected by this. You already knew what the right answer is but you chose to dangle it in front of him. He watches as you innocently bring your thumb under your chin, staring into space as if you were thinking about something profound. He would be somewhat correct, for you were thinking about Teyvat’s Traveler. You knew very well that they would take notice of your clothes, and that whatever relationship you had with the Balladeer needed to be significant enough to leave untouched. 

The Balladeer clears his throat before throwing you a cocky grin, “Let’s say we were recently engaged, and that Liyue was the best choice to plan our wedding?” 

He, of course, had no problem disguising himself as your fiancé if it meant investigating these meteorites in peace. It would even serve as a bit of bragging right to that russet-haired dog that follows you in Zapolyarny palace. What a great plan, he mentally pats himself on the back. If the Traveler were to ask you about your relationship, he would simply answer these very words.

You smile, “Is this your way of proposing to me?” 

You raise your hand, showing him your rather bare, ringless fingers. He resists the urge to let out a boisterous laugh as he reaches out to you. You were entertaining his thoughts. What a joy, he says to himself. He fights the growing heat which forms at the tips of his ears. You must be doing this on purpose, he suspects, for you are giving him something he had always desired. You were dangling everything he wanted right in front of him.

Bringing you close to him, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You shiver at the way his lips linger on your skin. With his violet regards, he glances up to look at you. “Anything to make that dog jealous.”

He thinks of you as rather naive. Too naive to see the way his finger grazes past yours during meetings or the faint smile he offers to you when he is alone in your office. Too innocent to know when his touches last longer against your skin, hoping that it would seer into your flesh. It was strange, he says, for a woman trained in seeing the future, you hadn’t once brought up the idea that he may have favored you a bit more than the other Harbingers.

Your journey with him will eventually come to an end, whether he or you liked it. Yet he cannot settle the uncomfortable, bubbling emotion of nervousness he gets when he looks into your eyes. It was not the usual warmth that he had grown slightly accustomed to, but a sense of frigid coldness that stops him from wanting to look any further than he should. He finds himself thinking about what sort of future you might be brooding about. After knowing you for several hundred years, he has yet to understand the intent of your plan. Your reason for joining the Tsaritsa, the purpose you share with her, and the likes of her people. He bites down on his lip. For what reason did you assemble the Harbingers? And for what purpose may they serve you? What did you see in the future, that you had found so deeply disturbing as to formulate an army of the strongest warriors? What could you possibly be defending if not for the Tsaritsa? 

“It looks like we arrived.” 

He flinched slightly, forcefully dragged out of his thoughts as he looked up at you, seeing that you were already standing up to leave the carriage. Your long dress trails alongside your legs, a gentle smile still resting on your face as you look out to the grand view of Liyue.

The Balladeer presses his lips tightly together as he decides to abandon his thoughts. Taking his hat from the other seat, he drops down to the floor with a slight ‘thump’ before placing it on top of his head, shielding his vision and skin away from the heat of Liyue. His bells jingle alongside his footsteps behind you, his hand never too close yet too far from yours. A tinge of misery follows him, his lips tightly held together as he peers up at your much taller form. 

He feels remorse pooling over the emptiness of his heart, but he chooses to dismiss such feelings in favor of seeing how far your kindness travels. While he knows that his journey alongside you was nothing more but a fleeting, passing of time, he wishes that perhaps you’ll meet again in later life.

[wishfxljikan]

Orion, Phobos and Enki all sit around a campfire in the Nebel Plateau, even if they've been here dozens of times before throughout the last decade through their time working under Team Lustrous, an anomaly resolution team while Palkia is busy with their own anomalous issues. It was hard work sometimes. Some worlds had small anomalies that didn't take all too much effort to restore.. Others, on the other hand, were massive, and some were even hostile amalgamations created by spacial distortions.

But there was one thing that the trio stood by. It was their promise to always return home, no matter the odds of victory. They all had their close calls, there was the anomaly in the Tree of Beginning that nearly swallowed the entire place whole, there was the ones in the Icy Mountains of Johto, fighting spirits come to physical form through spatial distortions had left Phobos stranded, dealing with delusional pokemon under control by some, which had nearly cost Enki's ability to fly.

And then there was Orion.

Who was dead-set on getting every job done no matter what, no matter the cost to his health. It definitely wasn't healthy given his trauma towards the world he was from, granted. None of them didn't really have anywhere to go, which made them default to the place Orion had spent his time after escaping his timeline. The Nebel Plateau. This was their home by all purposes to none.

The three of them planned everything there, slept here, overlooked all of the pokemon here, protected it from poachers and hunters. Alongside Volcanion, and Orochi, a Sceptile that caught a ride with Jirachi's wish alongside Orion, were an inseparable group of individuals.

Which is why the three of them were sitting there, just returning from the Hall of Origin for their final mission, something that's been on their minds for months now. They had their time to rest, and, this time? They'd have external help. There were other groups going after the anomaly. But their general directive was the same.

Find the anomaly, and get rid of it. Unfortunately, this time it felt impossible.

Apparently, the anomaly was a gigantic beast that was being guided to swallow and erase entire timelines. And they'd be sent to the most recent stabilized timeline to help the others stop it. That was all they were told, since it had seemed like even Dialga and Palkia were on board with the whole situation. It was going to get out of control, and they needed all claws on deck in order to stop it.

[ " Alright. This is our final job. I never thought we'd be going out like a bang like this, saving the known universe and all its parallels from an insurmountable foe. " ]

Phobos spoke up first, warming his claws against the warm fire, while the cold breeze threatened to burn it out, of course, it wouldn't matter whether or not it burned out, as Orion would continue to tend the flames with his own. Enki nodded silently, even though they weren't the most vocal of the three of them, the Noivern picked up on strategies and ideas faster than the other two did.

Orion looked over towards the stars lining the skies, a perfectly clear night, they would be in this new world by morning.

And there wouldn't be any time to mess around. They already got the synopsis about the ordeal at hand, and while they hadn't met the ones they'd be working alongside, there was one thing for certain, Orion had a feeling of deja vu. This was.. just like their first mission going to a different timeline altogether.

The three of them looked to one another in the uncertainty of it all, this was their final mission. They didn't know how difficult it was going to be. But from the sounds of things, when even the Hall itself was getting involved, as well as asking for help from other pantheon champions to help alongside them for this quest? It was.. nerve-wracking for all of them. It didn't matter what they were going in, they had to come out victorious.

This was all of them and the gods against this one fate they needed to stop and turn around. It was going to be harsh. It was probably going to be the last mission they go on for any pokemon ever again. This was going to take everything out of them and more. And that’s when Orion suddenly perked up.

“ Our final hoorah. Let us make this count. I’m.. curious to who we’ll be teaming with. “

There was a bitter taste in the land-shark’s tone in the final moments of it. Would it be humans? Other pokemon? Other pantheon gods? He wasn’t sure.

[ “ I don’t think Astraeus would willingly put us with humans, Orion. They know our distaste. They wouldn’t do such a thing. “ ]

Phobos interjected back almost instantly, making Orion respond with a simple sigh and a lean against the nearby tree, staring up at the skies, and just how gorgeous they were. Astraeus was probably going to open a portal from underneath them.. or make Hoopa do it instead to get them to awaken for their mission. But the three of them had spent the last week and a half resting as much as possible. They were ready for this. The three of them sat in each others solace and the ambience of the crackling flames. The sleeping pokemons, the chattering of bugs, it was all so peaceful in the Plateau.

Orion would hold his scythe-claw out.

“ This is to our promise. To always come back home. I promise that this mission will only be a stepping stone to the rest of our lives. I promise that I will not perish on this mission. “

Enki and Phobos’ eyes widen, they were broadening out their promise to this mission as well. The promise used to be simple, and vague. To always return home. But this? It was a lot more personal.

< I promise that I will, to the best of our abilities, make it out of this mission successfully, so that we would return to our rightful home, unshackled from this job. >

Enki was next, outstretching his wing to grasp Orion’s scythe-claw with his little clawed digits at the edges of his wings. Which.. only left one of them left. Their leader, Phobos. Who took a long deep sigh before starting to speak himself.

[ “ And I promise, as our leader. To make sure no one falters on our journey to this insurmountable foe. To make sure everyone is safe, to have hope, to have the strength to push on even when others lose that hope. I promise that we shall be the beacon of courage for all that join us on our mission. I promise to return home, with both of you in tow. “ ]

Phobos stretched out for yet but a moment and placed his claws on top of Enki’s from the other side. The three of them nod to one another, the promise had been strengthened, the promise had been continued. They would make it home alive, all three of them.

They were to be the beacons of courage, to give strength to the others. They were going to make it their final hoorah. Nothing was going to stop them, not even this supposed gigantic and growing anomalous entity that they were going to be facing.

It was the end of the universe, and they couldn’t let that happen.

[awpro]

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Features: Dual-screen design with impressive stabilization.

Price: AED 2,000.

Why Buy: Offers great performance straight out of the box with minimal setup.

INSTA360 X4

Features: 360-degree recording capability.

Price: AED 1,800.

Why Buy: Ideal for creating immersive content with its unique shooting capabilities.

AWPRO Online Store

At AWPRO, we offer a curated selection of drones and action cameras from top brands like DJI, GoPro, and Insta360. Our user-friendly website allows you to browse products easily, compare prices, and read customer reviews before making your purchase.

Tips for Buying Drones and Action Cameras Online

Read Customer Reviews: Gain insights into product performance from other users.

Check Return Policies: Understand the return process in case the product doesn't meet your expectations.

Conclusion

Buying drones and action cameras online has never been easier with platforms like AWPRO providing a comprehensive selection of high-quality products. Whether you’re looking for a top-of-the-line drone or an affordable action camera, our guide will help you make informed decisions that enhance your photography and videography experiences.

[linuxgamenews]

Unleash Your Inner Time Traveller with Old Skies Adventure

Old Skies point and click time travel adventure has new trailer, release date, and a Linux, Mac, and Windows PC demo. Thanks to the creative team at Wadjet Eye Games for bringing this to life. Due to make its way onto both Steam and GOG. Old Skies point and click drops us into a world of adventure where time travel is real but far from simple. It’s not some magical fantasy where you get to explore alternate lives or unmissed chances. No, this game’s got a gritty turn: all those other paths don’t even include us. And that’s where Fia Quinn steps in. She’s a time-traveling agent at the ChronoZen Time Travel Agency. Making sure history doesn’t get messed up while keeping her clients in line. In Old Skies, you’ll jump through time with Fia, taking on seven different cases across New York City. Each one’s set in a different historical era, from Prohibition’s hidden speakeasies to the wild gangs of the Gilded Age, even up to the World Trade Center just before September 11, 2001. And the thing is, each trip back in time comes with challenges — puzzles to solve, choices to make, and high stakes that could mess things up for the future. Your role is pretty clear: guide Fia through each mission, keep history safe, and handle clients who have their own mysterious, sometimes selfish reasons for time-jumping. Some just want a taste of history, while others are dead set on wrapping up old business. At first, their motives don’t matter to Fia — she’s all about keeping the timeline intact. But things change, and so does her perspective. When she starts caring, that’s when things get intense.

Old Skies trailer

And yes, you can die in Old Skies. This is an adventure game with real consequences, but because of time travel, death doesn’t have to be the end. Mess up? Just jump back in and try again. Fia’s got to get it right, no matter how many times it takes. After all, if you’re going to toy with time, you’d better be ready for a challenge. As for the visuals and sound, Old Skies brings the goods. It’s got high-resolution graphics at 1920 x 1080, a full voice cast, and an original score by Thomas Regin (the talent behind Unavowed and the Blackwell series). You’re in for a visual and auditory treat as you wander through history’s dark alleys and hidden rooms. You can also get a sample of the gameplay with a Free Linux Demo on Steam. Launching in Spring 2025, Old Skies point and click time travel adventure will be available on Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. Created by Dave Gilbert, the mind behind Unavowed and the Blackwell mystery series. This title promises to be a fresh, time turning quest that’s worth every jump. If you’re into time-travel stories with a side of danger, get ready to dive in and see if you’ve got what it takes to survive history’s biggest mysteries. Due to make its way onto both Steam and GOG. Coming to Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. So try the native Demo.