#revised & expanded

[serpentface]

Two Ephenni sex workers playing a round of Gull in their spare time. The winner is quite evident.

While sex work is a conventional and legal part of the social fabric, being a sex worker is highly stigmatized and considered dirtying and shameful. Workers are deprived of certain legal rights otherwise available to citizens of their respective genders, and barred entrance to most temples. In relation to this status, it is required by law and/or custom for sex workers to visually distinguish themselves throughout most of Imperial Wardin. Women and akoshos wearing their hair unveiled and unbraided in public is fairly ubiquitous, and wearing basic men's robes as seen here is custom in the western provinces. Customs for men usually involve prohibition from wearing the dignified cloak of male citizens (which would typically be worn over robes or a nude upper body). This guy also wears his hair short and is shaving his beard (and possibly his chest), which is not a legal requirement so much as a mode of presentation that makes him palatable to the average male client.

Sex workers often lead very difficult lives, but it's not all endless misery. These two are making a fairly decent living, and are using their free time to gamble some of it away in a game of Gull.

Gull is a popular and accessible game in which the outcome depends entirely on luck. Gull can be played with coins as seen here, though otherwise uses formal gaming 'decks' consisting of small dense tablets (clay, metal, wood) with blank tail sides and decorated head sides (these are used in a variety of games in addition to this one). The deck or coins are shuffled in a small bag or the user's cloak on each turn. Players take turns dropping the all pieces in play from a standing position, and collect each piece that lands face-up on their turn. The face-down pieces are placed back into the bag and reshuffled for the next person's turn. This is repeated until no pieces remain in play. The person who has accumulated the most pieces in the end wins. Versions played with coins are usually for keeps- both players contribute to a pool of money at play and the winner takes all.

The game's common name of 'Gull' refers to one piece in the traditional deck having a gull design on the face. In most variants of the game, the player who wins the gull piece (or a marked coin that functions as one) gets an additional turn that round, and many high quality decks have the gull piece weighted to slightly decrease the chance of landing face-up (thus adding more tension and anticipation in its use). Seagulls are also broadly associated with luckiness, and are an appropriate icon for a game that relies entirely upon chance.

[lucky-draws]

some snavids and a kaz

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

I have Gravity Falls and Etc. fic(s) idea(s)

Which, I am going to write now while I am having this fic idea (probably going to be a short one, but in the future I might make a revised expanded version or something. Who knows).

I actually have multiple Gravity Falls and GF TAU and Reverse Falls and etc. stuff that stems from this specific The Book of Bill thing.

Specifically stuff exploring Dipper's nightmares.

(I have some other ideas for the other dreams and/or nightmares too. Sometimes even in relation to Dipper's in some way).

I love my boy, and his nightmares hurt my heart.

But also because I love him, I want to explore even more of issues/trauma/suffering and/or to do Dipper angst. And etc.

Because I want both happiness and/or suffering for my faves/the characters I love very much.

Like Dipper.

So he is going to be getting even more of that from me, probably.

Because he is great and I love him.

[hallowsden]

Devotion

Zevlor x G/N!Tav snippet

Author Notes: All I'm gonna say is this was originally supposed to be only about 500 words only for me to finally get to the part of Act 2 where I managed to save Zevlor and OH BOY- it evolved into 1.2k words. Just- I adore Zevlor. This came out having more angst than I initially thought, though, so... Anyways, hope you all enjoy it! [Not beta read]

He pretends not to see the relief in your eyes when you first go up to him after fighting the Mind Flayers and Intellect Devourers. After all, why would you give him such a look with what he's done? No, that's just all in his imagination. He knows you're aware of his sins. Then again, you always did have a habit of knowing things before anyone else does...

Even without the tadpole that now inhabits his head like you and the other saviors, Zevlor could see through your brave mask. In those mismatched eyes he had grown fond of long before your lot had done the impossible all those months ago, he sees a mirror image of himself.

The festering fear that haunts you and everyone else like the shadows that barely stood by in this damnable land. The neverending guilt that attempts to drown you to the depths of your mind as the blood refuses to wash away from your hands, your head chanting apologies as you think about the what ifs of you have done better.

Zevlor knows that look you wore well. He's seen it in himself every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection, as of an occurrence that was... Not to mention, it reminded him of the others... The younger Hellriders especially tend to wear it more publicly, not yet developing the skills to effectively hide their inner demons yet... So many gone, just like that-...

The exhaustion you practically wore like a second skin, with bags that cling to you with a vengeance, one that came along with you before he had even met you. The exhaustion that weighed your trembling shoulders and buckling knees had it not been the adrenaline that roared through your ears-. Hell, he swears he could see some new scars marking your delicate face, even.

Has it been that long ago since he last saw you? You haven't appeared to have changed much, and yet...

And yet, as he goes on to blink, he senses it immediately as he explains himself to you. What once was the hollow void in your chest when he first met you, the one that mirrored his own so brokenly is now replaced with a bright, burning radiance of celestial strength and blessing, one that pulses to the beat of your heart.

A not so mirror image. But it was still you, nonetheless...

No longer were you a fellow oathbreaker who was ever so lost in the world and of yourself. You had what he once had, an Oath of Devotions that glowed in you but more, filling up your broken cracks like the way the false God had shown him if he just gave them his broken faith and devotion and followed what they said...

It was nothing but a lie, as his people got hunted down and slaughtered. The people he swore to protect... He betrayed them all and failed them once more.

But you're here, giving him a look of understanding... And admittedly, it confused him...

Why do you care for him, he's so tempted to ask. The moment you met him, you practically acted as if you were drawn to him like a Moth to a flame... He doesn't understand it. Why care for an old, decrepit man like him? And why did your eyes shine with familiarity when you two first met?

You saved him. And no doubt you saved the others. He just knows you did. From all that he knows about you, from word of mouth and the times you decided to hang around in his little area back in the Druid's Grove, you'd never let anyone suffer under your watch.

You were always so compassionate. He at first thought it was due to being a fellow Tiefling. Goodness, how the world already hated their kinds existence. It wasn't uncommon for Tieflings to stand up for one another. After all, who would if not themselves in the world they lived in? But no... He's seen how you work. Your heart was far bigger than the body that holds it. It was something he appreciated about you.

You were the person he once was. You were a person he wished to be once more. Brave and strong despite it all. Kind and passionate and protective even to the low lives like him.

He adored you more than he could ever realize up until now.

Maybe that's why he didn't hesitate when he hastily said "I want to help- if you let me" even when his throat burned with dryness and guilt as he spoke. Even when anxiety shot high in his blood, his tail pinned itself between his legs, feeling just how drained his body was.

He knows you have already done so much for him, for his people. But... Maybe he'll find salvation and forgiveness if he goes with you. Find redemption. At the very least, he could repay you with his services, even if it's being a meat shield as he goes to try and help out the others. He'd deserved that if anything...

Death was too good for someone like him. He deserved to be tortured for all his failures... Yet, when his eyes met yours...

... Maybe you were the angel he had prayed to the Gods for from before... Who knows? Not him. Not when he was surprised you even listened to any of his words. Not when you gave him such a gentle look, eyes full of empathy that he didn't deserve, as you asked him to join your party, another blade in the fight to come.

You... Want him by your side?*

And even when he had his doubts, not wanting to be a backstabber twice over, your glowing eyes met his as you said, "I trust you." You had said it with such earnestness, how could he deny you like that?

He could never turn you down, not with those eyes of yours... And distantly, he remembers how the other refugees would tease him upon meeting you back before everything went to shit... Admittedly, they were right. Just as you were drawn to him, he was drawn to you... Maybe that's why he cared for you more than others...

"... On the condition that if I ever freeze like that again, do not hesitate to strike me down. Better me gone than being a traitor once more." That was his only condition. And he sees you nodding, ignoring the slight hesitation you had at first.

He couldn't bear the idea of hurting you.

"Let's get you checked up and rested first, yeah? You've already been through a lot. And I need to go check for others trapped... Just follow me closely, alright?"

You care so much... He didn't deserve it.

Oh, how he didn't deserve you, but obediently, he followed you with his hand clasped in yours. For you, he'll give you his devotion and faith. His everything, even. After all, you never broke his trust. You never broke his faith. If anything, you gave him what he had lost for so long. Hope.

You have given hope to him just as you gave hope to others. Maybe that's what caused you to stand out from even your group.

You deserve the world with all the good you've done. Of how you saved his people. Of how you saved him. For that, he is grateful, and he'll make sure, as long as he sides with you, he'll help with any endeavors and goals you put your mind to, knowing it would always align with that good nature you carry in your heart. To the end, he will follow.

'So he swears, so mote it be.'

[magenta-somethings]

how navaniel could have won

or, a 1700 word fic in which Navani is slightly more gay, Raboniel slightly less dead, and I play hard-and-fast with worldbuilding note: picks up right near the start of chapter 113 of RoW, which is where the first line is taken from

-

“My soul…is burned… almost all away…”

In another universe Navani’s mind—drenched in agony, overwhelmed with a piece of god—wouldn’t have focused on the semantics. She would have accepted the words and heard the rest of Raboniel’s dying request and retrieved the dagger and driven it into her heart. And after she would have left a note on Raboniel’s corpse naming her hero and commanding that it not be disposed of without consulting the queen. She would have seen to the funeral herself, and snapped at the Brightlord who questioned why an enemy deserved this honour, and later found comfort in her husband’s arms, even as she couldn’t think of how to explain the wound in her chest. For years, the memory of a hand and a voice, joined to her by song, would have haunted her. And it would have been a sweet haunting. One grief she would have cherished, even as she struggled to name it grief, unlike all the others of her life. 

But in this one, her mind tripped on soul. It picked it up and examined it. And the scholar in her found it inaccurate. 

“Not your soul,” she corrected. “Your Voidlight.”

“Is there… a difference?” asked Raboniel. It was intended to be rhetorical. The intended answer an obvious no. She was Fused, and so she could not exist without Voidlight. She hadn’t been able to exist without it for the last seven thousand years. She was bound for Braize, changed by the touch of Odium. And this time there would not be enough of her left to return to Roshar sane. Yet Navani was a scholar and, perhaps more importantly, a believer of the Almighty, even after everything, and so for her the answer was yes. There was a difference. 

The gears of Navani’s mind were beginning to turn, their teeth slotting together. “A human can be filled with Voidlight,” she said. Moash had proved that—at least there was one thing the bastard was good for. “And a singer can be filled with Stormlight.”

“I don’t… follow,” Raboniel said. But even through her agony, Navani could see a glint of interest in her eyes. She was a scholar too. Even to the end. 

Sibling, Navani thought, what if we were to fill Raboniel with Stormlight? Would it allow her to live? To keep her mind?

I—I do not know, the Sibling thought back. The Fused are not merely singers. Odium has changed them. And even then, she would likely need to be constantly infused. The Stormlight filling the hole left by Voidlight. 

A hypothesis formed and, despite everything, with it excitement. Navani would not feel guilty about that. Not now, at least. Guilt did not drive scholarship. What if she were a Radiant?

She could feel the Sibling’s bewilderment. Their connection still raw and sensitive. Less an exposed nerve and more a nerve that had never been covered in the first place. No spren would bond her.

Which was true. But that was not what Navani had in mind. That would give her too much power. She did not trust Raboniel enough for that. Yet she wanted her to live. It was a selfish desire, unworthy of a queen. But wasn’t that why? Raboniel had given her the gift of being a scholar. Of letting the world fall away, until it was just the two of them and science and a rhythm. The gift of being selfish. And now in front of her was a theory that begged testing. 

What about a squire? she asked.

Again, bewilderment. Worse. Insult. This was a dangerous game, when the Sibling had only barely accepted her. But she could not convince herself Raboniel wasn’t worth it.

Her? As our squire? She tried to unmake me. She would unmake all that remains of Honor.

She did. And she would. But did she not also join with me? Did she not sing the Rhythm of War with me? I’m your Bondsmith now. And our duty is to unite. Yes, she did you a great injustice. But if we can get her to join us, think of what it could mean.

The Sibling fell silent and in that silence she read begrudging acceptance. This would cost their bond, already so frayed in its first hour of existence, but she could make it up to them. The spren of this tower. Her spren, in the way she was their Knight Radiant. She could make this work.

“Are… going to share… your thoughts?” Raboniel forced out. “A theory… of yours would be… a good parting gift.” Pain soaked her every word, but still she spoke. “Or… a final punishment? It… would not work. Kindess… or cruelty… from you, I would accept both.”

Navani kneeled. Took Raboniel’s hand in hers, like she had when they uncovered the Rhythm of War together. “Raboniel, become my squire.”

Raboniel stared at her. A bark of laughter tried to make its way up her throat, but all that managed to escape was coughs. “Oh, Navani… my Voice of Lights. Even now, you… surprise me. But it will… not work. Pick up the dagger. I made more anti… anti… I made more. There.” A tilt of her head, just enough to gesture to her desk. “Please. End it. My suffering. Me.”

My Voice of Lights. What about that caused her heart to sing? Likely it was just the intensity of the day. “You said you appreciated anything that can still surprise you. Show your appreciation. Help me test one last theory.” Raboniel shook her head, but Navani could not let her refuse. Not yet. She needed to entice her. Get her to see the possibility of it. The potential. She tightened her grip on her hand. “You say it won’t work, but what kind of scholar would we be if we didn’t try? If we Infuse you with Stormlight, and then use the anti-Voidlight, your connection to Odium should be severed. If you are right, and your soul and Voidlight are one, then you will die. If you are wrong, you get to live one final life. One that could see the end of this war.” One that could be spent with me. The desire was unexpected, but not unexplainable. Her collaboration with Raboniel had been unlike any other. The things they could discover together, with just a little more time… 

Raboniel eyes were slits, barely open. But they were open. She had not closed them yet. Navani could still see the crimson intensity of them, more beautiful than any ruby. “An end…”

“If you still wish to die after our experiment,” said Navani, even as it pained her to say, “then any dagger will do the job. And if this fails and you are sent back to Braize without your mind… then I swear to find you, in whatever body you are reborn in, and fill you with enough anti-Voidlight that there will be nothing left for Odium to use.”

One of Raboniel’s thumb, slender and so weak, traced the edge of Navani’s hand. “Such sweetness… I have not tasted for centuries. Yet… I… we are still enemies… how could I… be your squire?”

How barren Raboniel’s life must have become, that this was sweet. Suddenly, Navani wished to see her drink wine of every colour. To see her filled with the taste of berry and honey and fruit. Raboniel would see most of the world dead, and yet Navani wanted only sweet things for her. 

It must be the intensity of the day. That, and the dying light of her eyes.

Becoming a squire normally takes time, shared the Sibling. But you have a Connection. If she says the words, then maybe…

“You want an end,” she began. She had tried to be logical in her arguments, a scholar presenting a theory, but the edges of desperation were creeping in. “Let’s find it. A better one, where human and Singer are united. Where we both win.” She grabbed her other hand as well, clinging to both like she could keep Raboniel’s soul anchored. “Please. Lady of Wishes. We are both of Odium. But we are also both of Honor. Place your trust me.”

“We are… equals.”

Navani stared into her eyes. Into the thin red line. All that was left. “Raboniel, please.”

Raboniel closed her eyes. And then her lips began to move. Somehow, she knew. “Life… before… death.”

She glowed. Not red, but white. The white of a sun directly overhead. The white of Honor’s lightning. The white of Stormlight. It was beautiful, and Navani wanted nothing more than to stare—to watch as Light traced her marbling and knitted together her flesh and mended dead limbs—but she couldn’t. She let go of her hands and scrambled to her feet. Grabbing the dagger on the way. The black sack and its terrible diamond was easy enough to find, and easier to slot into the dagger.

By the time she returned there was strength again to Raboniel. But now, no longer blinded by Light, Navani could see something dull about her eyes. A wound Stormlight could not touch. “The Lady of Wishes… a squire,”Raboniel said, and this time the pause was not from pain but from astonishment. “This will shock the others. So much of what we have achieved together will.” There was an amusement to her voice, and a grief, and what Navani thought might have been a hope.

“There is one final part to our experiment,” said Navani. 

“Of course,” said Raboniel. She stood, and how had Navani nearly forgotten how she towered? She would only just be able to reach the center of her chest. “Seven thousand years, and you are the first I have permitted to pierce my heart.” A humming. ��If you are right… one more life. One that will be full of negotiations.” She tilted her head, as if listening to something. The rhythms. “If I am right… this is as tender a death as possible.” 

Navani, in that moment, wondered if she should be cradling Raboniel, like she did her daughter. In case this was a killing, one of mercy. But no. They were equals. 

Navani took a breath, and plunged the dagger deep. 

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

poems for Grac(i)e - (for @imissthembutitwasntadisaster on her birthday)

Maggie Smith, Good Bones // Gerard Way, How It's Going To Be // Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous // Griff, Vertigo // Elizabeth Bishop, One Art // Taylor Swift, You're On Your Own, Kid // Kim Stafford, At The Student Poetry Reading // Fall Out Boy, Baby Annihilation // @/daisies-on-a-cup // Stephen King, It

[latin-dr-robotnik]

I said this months ago, but by the end of this year Frontiers is gonna be a completely different game from the one that released back in November 2022, and now that we know when DLC 3 is going to come out, it might be the best time to play it again from start to finish.

Each update addressed something about the base game that wasn't up to par: side modes and replayability, challenges, gameplay and controls... and now the final update is tackling what is still one of the biggest weakness of the game: the final chapter.

I'd say I'm surprised but dataminers found out back in June all the stuff that got confirmed today: reworked Ouranos, revised story with playable Tails, Knuckles and Amy, new final boss, new transformation and more.

So... get ready :)

[novankenn]

Turbulent Waters (Revised)

/==/

The rusalka (plural: rusalki) is a female entity, often malicious toward mankind and frequently associated with water. (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rusalka)

/==/

Chapter One

Jaune’s ichor streaked blade sliced through the air, cleaving through the forelimb of the closet Beowulf of the pack that had descended upon him. Ducking his head behind his heater shield, he tilted it slightly, deflecting a side on attack. All about him, several Grimm corpses slowly dissolved, but there was no time to rest. Pushing with his shield, he shoved back one while thrusting with his sword into the neck of the one he had injured.

“Bastards!” Jaune cursed in a gasp. Chambering his sword, he struck out at the Beowulf he had knocked off balance. The keen edge chopping down at the joint of the neck and shoulder of the beast. 

A spray of the foul slime that functioned as blood in their unnatural bodies, caught him in the chest and face. In a moment of blindness, he was hit from the side. His armour absorbed the brunt of the attack, with the remainder causing his aura to flare. He felt the intense pressure of something biting him, and in an act of desperation Jaune raised his sword, and drove it down. The pommel cracked against something hard, and the pressure suddenly was gone. Blinking his eyes clear, he staggered away from the direction of that attack.

His irritated eyes focused on the cracked, bone white faceplate of the Beowulf that had latched on to him. In its mindless rage it charged, straight into a hit from Jaune’s shield, followed by an arcing upswing of his stained blade that decapitated the beast. 

It was the last one, and as he stood there his chest heaving, his limbs heavy his mind drifted back to a better time…

It was her eyes. That was what drew him to her. Eyes of the colour of deep emerald, that seemed to shine when she smiled. She was perfect in his mind. A mane of flaming red hair, that framed her elegant face. She had a slim and athletic build to her body, that she draped with tasteful and modest clothing. If Jaune had been religious or even spiritual, he would have said she was an angel. It didn’t matter. He was smitten with her, beguiled and enchanted by her.

“That’s Helena Nikos.” Jaune’s partner Jade Hadera told him as Jaune watched her from afar. “She’s single, and she’s been noticing you.”

“What?” Jaune chocked on his sandwich.

“Girls talk, and a few of them noticed the looks you’ve been shooting her.” Jade teased. “Go for dude. What’s the worst that could happen, her telling you no?”

“No, her saying yes.” Jaune muttered.

“Come on bro. You can’t hold on to that shit from Signal.” Jade commented. “That bitch played you. It was a twisted game with her, and you did nothing wrong.”

“Easy for you to say.” 

“Hey, that girl wouldn’t have known a good man if he slapped her ass, and kissed her.” Jade chuckled. “Ask her out, or at least go up and say hi.”

“Maybe.”

“Jaune, do it. Take the chance.” Jade advised with a firm hand squeezing Jaune’s shoulder. “Take the chance.”

So he took the chance. Approaching her just before Combat Class, and introducing himself to her. She smiled at him, and just started to chat with him. Her voice was sweet and gentle. Her demeanour was kind, and a little flirty. From exactly that point, Jaune was totally captivated by her, and took a risk. He asked her out for coffee, and she accepted.

Jaune was torn from his memories, by the sound of snapping branches. His eyes quickly scanned the battle torn ground of the small clearing he had been fighting in. He was sore and tired, and knew he needed to get out of here. It had been a mistake going out into the foothills. Leaving the protection of Beacon behind him while consumed with rage. It had drawn the Grimm in, and it was bringing more to him.

The growls and snarls grew closer. Jaune recognized he was in a very bad spot, so with his sword and shield still in hand, he took off at a run. He retrod the winding, barely visible walking path that he followed into the foothills. He strained his ears to keep track of the sounds of any pursuit, while keeping his gaze upon the trail.

The snap of a branch to his right alerted him only a fraction of a moment before the attack. It was not enough time to get either his sword or shield into proper position, but it was enough for him to twist and take the hit on the thickest part of his armour. Knocked backwards, Jaune flailed about to keep upright, as the Beowulf pressed its advantage. Catching it with a glancing blow from the edge of his shield, Jaune gave himself just enough room and time to thrust his sword forward.

The attack was off mark, but the damage was lethal. Jaune’s aim was to impale the beast dead in the throat, and while he did catch it in the throat, it was off the mark. A gout of inky black fluids spurted out. The keen edge of Jaune’s blade splitting the Grimm’s neck open like an overripe fruit. The sound of others closing told Jaune he couldn’t stop to rest. With a grunt of pained exertion, he started running again.

The second attempted ambush, he was better prepared for. The beast appeared before him on the narrow trail, snarling and set to pounce. Tucking his shoulder behind his shield, Jaune plowed forward, bowling it and himself over. Rolling to his feet, he thrust his weapon home, and with a savage twist of the hilt, opened a gapping wound in the Beowulf’s exposed chest. Yanking his blade free, Jaune turned on his heels and continue his flight down the trail. His chest burned, and his legs throbbed. Behind snarls, and growls, grew closer.

Helena gasped in surprise when Jaune, took a single knee and presented her with a small black box. They were sharing a desert at their favoured café. It had been five months of sharing time with each other. Of dates and late nights. Of good times and stressful ones. But Jaune knew Helena was the woman for him. The woman he wanted to spend his life with. To raise a family, celebrate special occasions, and support even in times of adversity.

“Helena, I love you.” Jaune squeaked out. His nerves making his throat dry and his voice hoarse. “I want to be with you, forever. To honour and love you. To stand at your side as we move through this life together.”

“Oh, Jaune…” Helena gasped with tear filled eyes, from behind delicate hands clasped to her face.

“Will you marry me?” Jaune asked, as he opened the small box, showing off the ring he had gotten from his mother. It was his grandmother’s engagement ring, and he wanted her to have it.

“Y… y… yes!” she answered before throwing herself from her chair to embrace him.

At that moment, nothing could keep Jaune from smiling. Nothing.

Two more of the monsters appeared on the trail before Jaune. He wouldn’t be able to just bum-rush through this time, so he veered to his left into the brush. It took about five strides for him to go from the poor trail to be standing at the muddy banks of a slowly flowing river, of moderate size. Jaune considered fording the body of water, and had just about made the decision to do so, when a fresh quartet of Beowulf bust into from the trees.

“Fuck!” Jaune swore. He didn’t have much left in his tank. In combat class, against opponents that would give up, he could play a battle of attrition. But here, now. With no backup and against a foe of inhuman nature, that was not an option. Squaring himself up, with the river at his back, he prepared to make another stand.

As he eyed the beasts, he considered once again taking his chances with the river, but there were too many unknowns. If it was deep, his armour would pull him down. If it wasn’t then it would only slow his movements. No, his only option, he reasoned, was to fight. Fight hard, and put them down fast.

“Alright, you bastards!” Jaune shouted, using his booming voice to drum up his own lagging courage. “Come On!”

As if spurred on by his shouted challenge, the quartet rushed for him. Jaune returned the favour. Charging straight into their midst. The muscles of his legs and arms screamed in pain as he moved. Backpedalling, lunging, and side stepping while his sword’s edge cut, slashed, and cleaved through inky hides and flesh. Jaune’s armour and aura took a beating. It flared again and again, as fatigue began to slow his reactions. But it didn’t matter. He was determined to not die out here. To despite the mistakes of others to do something good with his life.

“Die you fuckers! Die! Die!”

Helena wasn’t answering her scroll and was over an hour late for their training session. Concerned, Jaune still in his gear headed towards the dorms. This had been happening more and more often over the last few months. Cancelled dates. Missed appointments and meet ups. Rushed conversations. 

Now, normally if she was going to be late or unable to attend the session, she would call and tell him. But for not to hear from her, and her not to be answering his calls and texts, pulled at a dark thought in Jaune’s mind. A memory he didn’t want to recall.

“Helena, please pick up? Why aren’t you answering? Are you okay?” Jaune spoke into his scroll, leaving another voice message as he closed on her dorm room. As he rounded the corner from the stairwell, Jaune say Ivy Greene, Helena’s partner, leaving the room. “Ivy!”

“Jaune? What are you doing here?” Ivy replied in actual real surprise. 

“Is Helena with you? She didn’t show up for our training session, and she’s not answering her scroll.” Jaune asked her, his words rushed. 

“No, she’s not here.” Ivy seemed puzzled. “I thought she was out with you?”

“No, I haven't seen her since the end of classes.”

“But…”

“Ivy?”

“She left our room like two hours ago, saying she was going to room.”

“What? That makes no sense.” Jaune commented, “She always just meets me there.”

“I don’t know what to say.” Ivy responded. “That’s what she told me.”

Jaune shook his head and walked off, as Ivy watched him. She suddenly had a sinking feeling and with a little gasp looked at Jaune’s retreating form and start to run after him. Jaune’s team dorm was a floor down, and he was walking with purpose. He was on his floor landing before Ivy could yell for him to wait. Reaching his door, he pulled out his key card, and paused. He thought he heard voices, but dismissed it. Swiping the card and opening the door. The card fell from his nerveless fingers as he stood in the threshold.

“Jaune? JAUNE!” Helena screamed while trying to pull a sheet up over her naked and sweat soaked body. Laying beside her just as naked was Jade… Jaune’s partner and friend. “It’s…”

“Hey Jaune.” Jade stammered out, as he slowly climbed out of his bed, moving to put himself between Jaune and Helena. 

“Shit!” Jade yelled as he ducked out of the way of the desk chair Jaune threw at him. It exploded against the wall, causing Helena to shriek in fear. Jade looked up from where he had landed, and saw Jaune’s hand tensing about the hilt of his sword. “Jaune?”

“I love you… “ Jaune hissed, as Crocea Mors began to slid free of its sheath. “I love you…”

“Jaune don’t!” Ivy screamed as she rushed into the room, grabbing him by the wrist. “They’re not worth it. Not worth it! Do you hear me? They're not worth it!”

“Jaune?” Helena sobbed out pitifully, “I’m…”

Helena never got to finish speaking, as Ivy rounded on her and slapped her so hard that she was knocked sideways to the bed from her seated position. Jade didn’t make a move, keeping his hands in full view of everyone.

Jaune howled. A sound filled with rage, and heartbreak, before racing out of the room. Leaving an irate Ivy, staring down his former love, and ex-friend.

Jaune was panting, his body battered and bruised. The final of the four, Beowulf, sliding limply off his blade. The other three had already started to decompose. Their inky forms breaking up into an almost snow like substance and floating up into the air to vanish like the light of a snuffed out candle. His mind was hazy, pain and emotions clouding his thoughts. His armour was dented and hanging haphazardly off him. Blood trickled from shallowed wounds to his face, and deeper ones on his upper arms.

His arms were heavy, and he was struggling to continue to hold his armaments. He took a couple staggering steps towards the river. He was thirsty and desperately needed to slat his thirst. Jaune heard its bellow just as he had knelt to cup some water in his hands. He grabbed for his sword as he was struck and flung sideways along the riverbank. Gasping in pain, he rolled to his knees and faced his attacker. The Ursa was massive compared to him. Its red eyes burned with unfiltered rage, as they bored into Jaune’s cold blues.

“Fuck you!” Jaune spat out, as he pushed himself to his feet and charged forward, Crocea Mors clasped in both hands. “Fuck you!”

Jaune’s world turned upside down, as the Ursa met his charge head on. Even as his goo stained blade struck home, his body weight and that of the Ursa assisting its progression through the tough hide and deep into its chest. But that same mass also carried Jaune backwards into the river, and as the beast spasmed in death it, fell upon Jaune crushing him beneath’s its immense weight. Jaune struggled, raged and flailed about, as the cold waters closed about him. 

One day later, Jaune was reported as missing. A day after that, an extensive search of Beacon’s grounds was started. With no sign of him, the search was expanded further from the school. Reaching out into the Emerald and Forever Fall Forests. It was on a hunch, that a young fresh-faced young teacher’s aide by the name of Glynda Goodwitch, checked the back gate. Finding it unlatched, she stepped onto the poorly marked walking trail. 

It was the stench of decay that brought her to the site of his death. She retched and emptied her stomach in the underbrush, at the sight of Jaune’s mangled and swollen corpse. Activating her scroll, she called in her discovery. With in minutes a bullhead appeared and Beacon’s Emergency Response Team repelled down. They all knew they were too late. Much too late.

[rosesradio]

working on my CE revision while i hang out on here today and i was able to write in a parallel of nico helping leo up after his claiming vs percy helping leo up after he beats him in sword fighting in IR...both situations in which leo is down on his luck, feeling bitter, & he's helped out by experienced demigods that know what it's like...poetic cinema

[virtuouslibertines69]

"I long for you; I who usually longs without longing, as though I am unconscious and absorbed in neutrality and apathy, really, utterly long for every bit of you." - Franz Kafka, from Letters to Milena: Expanded and Revised in a New Translation (Schocken, 1990)

Art by 능우

[fortune-maiden]

Having watched the donghua's version of the Gilded Banquet massacre and it's expansions on the Yong'an King & Queen and Prince An Le... I just really don't feel the revised version of this arc. The og's stakes are so much realer, the conflict feels much more human and idk I just think named humans make for more interesting antagonists than faceless ghosts

[descendantofthesparrow]

POYW Rewrite V2 - Harry Hook x reader - P15

=

The villains and their children stared as fireworks soared above Auradon, colorful sparks decorating the skies. Hook deepened his anger in rum, Gaston took his fury out on his house(his twin sons escaping his wrath as soon as he was seen on the block); EQ, Cruella, and Jafar all watched in thinly veiled disgust for their traitorous children-as music blasted and a party overtook Auradon prep-where King Ben was having his coronation party.

Teens danced and cheered as lights flashed, fireworks raining above them-setting the perfect scene for Ben’s coronation party. Speaking of Ben, he was currently being carried by the tourney team around the courtyard, laughing as they jostled him about-his smile brightening as he spotted Mal on the fountain stage next to you and Evie-the three girls laughing and twisting about to the music.

Mal; oh-oh yeah~ oh yeah yeah! Evie; let's set it off! Oh yeah! (y/n); you can make it happen!

All; ohayohay hey!

Ben was thrown onto the stage, twisting around with an almost shy grin, laughing as the students around him bowed-and he took a moment to mess with Chad’s hair-giving the boy a teasing grin as Chad looked at him-almost offended before he smiled, pushing Ben playfully.

Ben; kings and queens it’s our time to rise! Write the book; the story of our lives, this is us, taking back the night!

All; ohayohay!

He turned, seeing Mal making her way towards him and he held out his hand-the other behind his back, grinning as Mal took it and spun herself about to stand on his other side.

Mal; break the spell-we were born this way! Be yourself, forget the DNA! Everybody raise your hands and say~

All; ohayohay, hey!

Evie parted the crowd-stylish and proud as ever, strutting down the makeshift runway and dancing her heart out-grinning as Doug slid in to dance with her.

Evie; sound the alarm, get on your feet! Let’s set it off and rock this beat, dance till your heart is wild and free~

You couldn’t help but laugh/scream as Harry jumped up behind you, taking your hand and dancing you further onto the stage-his tailcoat abandoned-leaving just the waist coat-his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

(y/n): feeling the power let it all out! Like what you see in the mirror-shout! We got the keys, the kingdoms ours~

You took Evie’s hand as she passed you, twirling her around as Harry laughed, meeting Mal and Ben in the middle and throwing your hands to the skies.

All; let’s set it off! Oh yeah! Start a chain reaction, and never let it stop! Let’s set it off-oh yeah yeah! You can make it happen; with everything you’ve got-let’s set it off!

Harry took your waist, pulling you up and over to his other side, his hands once again finding yours and bringing you close-all while laughing as you sang.

All; get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Get ready, set it off! ohayohay, hey!

The boys, Carlos, Gil, and Jay; all spotted Jane sitting alone-away from the party. She didn’t feel like she deserved to be there not after what she had done; not just at the coronation-but to the vks, for being so mean after they had practically welcomed her with open arms.

Carlos and Gil shared a smile and nodded, the three boys walking forward and sitting on each side of Jane, Jay behind them and taking Jane’s shoulders, smiling down at her. She jumped-surprised, her eyes locked onto Gil as he offered his hand, maybe they wouldn’t get back to how they were right away, but they didn’t have to be enemies.

Carlos; it’s time to set this thing off, let’s make it happen now! Gil; Imma make my own future, ignore all the rumors-show em how passion sounds! Carlos/Jay/Gil; they all told me I should back down, judgin’ me cause of my background; thinkin’ bout changin’ my path now-nah I ain’t going out like that now!

Gil grinned as he took Jane up the steps to join the rest of the party, laughing as Lonnie and Audrey came up to Jay and Carlos-whirling the two boys into the party with matching grins.

Audrey; feeling the power let it all out! Lonnie; like what you see in the mirror-shout! Jay; we’ve got the keys the kingdoms ours~! All; ooh, oh,oh! Evie; Whoa-ooh yeah!

The music blasted again, everyone dancing to their heart's content, you and Harry met up with Jane and Gil, laughing as you danced together.

All; let’s set it off! Oh yeah! Start a chain reaction and never let it stop! Let’s set it off! Oh yeah! You can make it happen; with everything you’ve got let’s set it off!

All; get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Get ready, set it off! Three, two, one-

The beat dropped and everyone danced together, Mal and Ben running off somewhere-almost kissing but not, Mal cheekily dodging Ben’s kiss and pushing him away-leaving the rest of you to party.

Mal; ooh-yeah!

Harry twirled you into his arms, your arms automatically going around his neck, smiling at you with that handsome side grin he always used.

Harry; let's set it off, oh yeah~

You grinned back, taking his hands and swinging them about-the party around you almost disappearing as you got lost in each other's eyes.

(y/n)/Harry; start a chain reaction, and never let it stop!

All; let’s set it off! Oh yeah! You can make it happen, with everything you’ve got, let’s set it off! Get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Get ready, set it off! We bout to set it off! Everyone turned to face Ben and Mal, bowing to their new king-long may he reign. Fireworks once again exploded in the sky, cutting through the music as everyone cheered and jumped around, Harry took you in his arms and spun you around, laughing into your ear as you scream/laughed.

He was free, free from his father, the isle, and evil expectations. He could be-whatever he wanted now, and with you by his side, he was sure he could do just about anything.

You took his face in your hands, bringing him close enough to press your forehead against his, laughing as his eyes closed and he took a deep breath, his whole body relaxing.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered and you grinned, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Anything for you, Harry” you whispered back, letting him pull you close again, resting your chin on his shoulder.

You turned your gaze to the reader-who jumped in surprise, not expecting to be addressed-smirking a bit as they did. “you didn’t think this was the end of the story, did you?” you chuckled, winking and then pulling Harry back to dance as everyone cheered and music blasted-marking the beginning of a wonderful story.

-end of p15-

It’s short, I know, I’m sorry XD after so long since the last update, I’m sure yall wanted something more-but-really, other than an epilogue that explains a bit more of Shuffle playlist(which is the next book in this story, which no I will not be rewriting/revising), Rewrite revise is finished~ hope yall liked it and it flowed better than the version I wrote in 2020(?)

Epilogue soon(hopefully)! Uma will return in Shuffle playlist-Rewrite poyw

Permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

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R!poyw v2 taglist!

@reallysparklychaos @tzurue @evilunicorns4minions

[milkochaa]

brain rotting so badly about timmy that I dive right back into making (coughs, wheezes) ...art? I'm actually going back to drawing??? who am I??? tims making me want to draw his stupid ass?? not even writing cld fix this problem!!?? not enough!! *collapses

[raayllum]

amazing what a new job, a gender euphoria based haircut, chosen hyperfixations (hello ancient animal evolution), and good tv will do for you

[ur-favorite-puppyboy]

this is a bit of a rant, so if u don’t feel like reading it just scroll

lately i’ve been feeling tired of this blog, or like i don’t have the same interest in it as i did when i first started it; i was struggling to pinpoint what exactly made me shift the way i interact with it (probably because there’s multiple reasons), but im starting to think that one factor is every interaction i have here/with people from here being exclusively sexual

and i get that this is an nsft blog, so those interactions are expected, but i think it’s gotten to a point where it almost feels like a chore, like people expect me to perform sexuality and kink for them whenever they feel like interacting with me

it’s even more exhausting when it’s from people that follow me or i’m mutuals with, given i’ve written on my pinned post (that i assume they’ve read) that i’m not comfortable with any private conversations being immediately sexual and that i’d prefer having regular interactions before anything else (mostly so i can decide if they’re someone i’d even be interested in having that kind of conversation with)

more importantly as someone on the ace spectrum that goes through periods of time where my sex drive/interest in sex is nonexistent, it’s even more frustrating to get on here and have the first thing i see in my notifications be a message from someone i’ve never talked to before, and the first thing they decided to say to me is some kink fantasy they want me to fulfill

i don’t expect people on here to want to know about every single second of my day, obviously, but at least have the decency to check whether or not i even feel like engaging in the first place

and i’m not oblivious (to this, at least), i know this is something a lot of people also deal with here, because i’ve seen their posts about it, so i know im not special for this, but i’ll still complain anyway

just because i let u follow me doesn’t mean you’re entitled to my attention and time whenever u want (or at all, even), and if the only thing you’re capable of coming up with for ur first message is to demand i satisfy u sexually this isn’t the blog for u and you’re better off not following me, or even blocking me

[timbertewsday]

chrysanthemum