#rising from my crypt to reblog this

[anonygowose]

!!! WELCOME !!!

☆ I'm Goose / Goosey, this is my main blog! ☆

♡ 19 - They / Them ♡

☆ I think many people can be something's biggest fan ☆

ᵀʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵃᶦᵈ, ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᶦᵍᵍᵉˢᵗ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠᵃⁿ

I MAINLY JUST REBLOG THINGS ON THIS ACCOUNT!

This includes:

☆ My own art / creations from my other blogs

♡ Fandoms I am a part of / enjoy

☆ Friend's art

♡ Shitposts

I RARELY CREATE ORIGINAL POSTS ON THIS ACCOUNT!

This includes:

☆ Light vents

♡ Dreams

☆ Conversations

♡ Random thoughts / ideas

☆ Game screenshots / stories

♡ Shitposts

I ATTEMPT TO TAG THESE APPROPRIATELY

However I have learned I am absolutely terrible at doing this consistently.

CURRENTLY SIDEBLOGS

☆ @gowoosery - Art Blog!

♡ @asurrealexperience - Dream Game! (massive eyestrain warning)

☆ @afterlifeafterhours - NOT MY BLOG but I voice one of the characters in this series! I am Erus, the silly pink one, go check it out!

more to come...

PLACES YOU CAN FIND ME

☆ My Website!

♡ Ko-Fi

☆ Art Fight

♡ Flight Rising

☆ UnVale

♡ LinkTree

24/7 HYPERFIXATION:

RAIN WORLD - Literally my ENTIRE personality since 2020. I will NOT shut up about it !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If Rain World has a million fans I am one of them. If Rain World has 10 fans I am one of them. If Rain World has 1 fan I am it. If Rain World has 0 fans it must take place in an alternative universe where it's an actual good game (just KIDDING guys GOSH take a JOKE ((/lh /no ill intent /Rain World is a very good game it just makes me want to rip all of my hair out <3)))

OTHER OBSESSIONS:

PLACID PLASTIC DUCK SIMULATOR - Probably one of my bigger hyperfixations, I am a HUGE fan of the series. To the point the Developers my beloved ADDED ME TO THE "THANK YOU" SECTION OF THEIR GAME!!! I'M LISTED THERE!!!! THANK YOU DUCK DEVS <333 Anyways, I am a MASSIVE supporter and enjoyer, and I play any of their games! I cannot wait for Placid Plastic Duck - A Quiet Quest and also Slowly Sliding Ducks.

ACE ATTORNEY - Becomes a hyperfixation every few months. You will know it happens when my entire theme changes to Godot and I spend every hour I am awake and should be asleep talking about it and / or reblogging posts about it and / or playing the games and / or watching the show AGAIN !!!

BUGSNAX - Probably THE biggest fixation I have ever had, took place the entirety of 2021. Pulled me out of the worst depression I've had in my life, made me start drawing again and I have over a dozen grumpus ocs. It's what made me comfortable enough to create headcanons and fan characters again. Holds a special place in my heart.

INFINITY TRAIN - My all time favorite show !!! I have ocs regarding this series and I rewatch it pretty frequently. It means a lot to me, I hold it in a special place in my heart :)

MOOMIN VALLEY - A series I enjoy a ton, there will be certain days I will focus entirely on this silly series I love it <3

ALL SAINTS STREET - Another series I enjoy a ton! I talk about it every so often but it's something I mostly keep to myself.

CULT OF THE LAMB - One of my current bigger obsessions, I actively desire to have the time to draw my lamb and all the silly followers I have. I reblog a LOT of fanart of this game, beware.

REGRETEVATOR - The biggest obsession I have at the moment, I draw my character Dizzy & canon characters whenever I can and you can find posts of them on my art account! Currently drawing a lot of Regretevator ocs on Art Fight :D

OTHER THINGS I LIKE (NO SPECIFIC ORDER):

Psych, Phighting!, Flight Rising, New Girl, Schitt's Creek, Mii Related Games, Tomodachi Life, Arctic Eggs, 7 Days To Die, Project Zomboid, Fallout Games, Stardew Valley, An Airport for Aliens Currently Run By Dogs, ARK, Buddy Simulator 1984, Crypt Of The Necrodancer, Content Warning, Lethal Company, Darkwood, Costume Quest, Inscryption, Neon White, Night In The Woods, No Man's Sky, No Straight Roads, OMORI, Oneshot, Rhythm Doctor, The Sam & Max Series, The Sims Series, Slime Rancher, The Subnautica Games, Voidigo, Wobbledogs, Pokemon, Everything Everything, The Scary Jokes, Of Montreal, Glass Animals, Arcade Fire, Robots, Minecraft, Terraria, Minecraft Story Mode, Murder Drones, The Amazing Digital Circus, Epithet Erased, Stuffed Animals

RANDOM FACTS THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR

☆ I am Polish but based in America

♡ ENFP !

☆ I am currently a Game Design & Development college student :D

♡ My favorite animal is the Red Panda

☆ My favorite colors are brown & pink !

♡ I have two very odd kins- being the Twitter cat emoji and cyriak's 7 Billion rabbit rabbits

I AM A COMPLETELY SFW BLOG !!! I NEVER PLAN ON MAKING IT NSFW.

☆ If you are a NSFW blog attempting to follow / reach out, do not be shocked it I do not respond and potentially block you! This is rare but if your blog makes me uncomfortable I WILL do it. If you are afraid of this happening, use a side account to interact!

☆ If you are anti-LGBTQ (including ANY amounts of homophobia, transphobia, acephobia, against neopronouns & against the use of umbrella terms such as pansexuality, you are OUT)

Licherally be open minded, not a creep, or at the VERY least keep all of it to yourself if you want to interact with this blog or any of my side blogs :)

I do want to note I love making new friends, if you would like to get to know me and share interests and such, please reach out!

And ANY person I have ever once known, whether we ended our relationships on good or bad terms, are ALWAYS accepted in my mind. If you ever want to reach out, I am here :)

[oraclekleo]

Hi Kleo 💟

I need some career guidance. What should I do to align more with my dream career/job ?

Initials: S

Sun /Rising : ♒ Moon : ♓ 2H

Thank You~❣️

Hello!

I'm really sorry it took me so long to respond but here we are!

Let's have a look at your reading.

Cards: New Beginnings, Nauthiz, Teapot, Axe, October, Ace of Pentacles, King of Wands, 2 of Cups, Queen of Wands, XVIII The Moon, Page of Crypts, 6 of Candles

First thing I can notice is the importance of timing in your reading. You have the New Beginning card, the Ace of Pentacles, the Nauthiz rune and even the Tea Leaf card October in your reading, which is likely to point to something new being born at the right time for you. You might need to become more disciplined with your time management, maybe you have several projects on your hands or exams coming and it will be of high importance for you to schedule everything neatly. While the Ace of Pentacles is a card of beginnings and seeds growing, it’s a grounded card and it reminds me of saying ‘haste slowly’. There’s time for everything and your ability to set priorities and stay focused on your goals is vital for you to succeed.

Another strong message in your reading is connected to relationships and personal charisma. You might need to become more active when it comes to networking and building your self-esteem to align with your dream job. Maybe your dream job is something that requires confidence or sales skills. The Moon and Page cards suggest, you might be a novice to high self-esteem. Maybe you still struggle with some negative patterns from the past, maybe you simply don’t believe in yourself as much as you should. Most of the cards predict huge success for you, it would be a pity if you were your own worst enemy here and killed your chances for success with low self-esteem.

I can also see deep close connections in your cards. The Teapot card and 2 of Cups suggest a close bond with someone who might become very dear to you, probably a person who will support you through thick and thin on your path towards your dream job. As the cards suggest, it doesn’t have to be a romantic relationship, it’s more likely to be a loyal friend.

To sum it up:

Discipline and time management are essential for you as there’s something growing and in need of your attention and care

Work on your self-esteem, be your own cheerleader because you have what you want

Surround yourself with kindred spirits, loyal and supportive friends

Thank you so much for requesting the reading!

I'm always grateful for any feedback.

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[monstersandmaw]

Male lich/draugr x female character - Part Three (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Thank you to those who have reblogged and enthused about this story so far! I’m really happy even one person likes it to be honest! Kalle has come to mean quite a lot to me, as have Raena, Grim, and Mythlas :)

Here’s part three for you! The chapters will start to slow down a bit now, as I’m almost caught up to where I stopped writing... Hopefully you’ll stick around anyway.

Contents: fluff, friendship, and a bit of violence/injury/danger to Raena.

Wordcount: 4545

Part One (sfw) | Part Two (sfw)

When Raena next stirred, the fire was still crackling away in the hearth beside her, and she blinked herself to full wakefulness and found that she was alone in Kalle’s quiet, cosy study.  

The peace of the place suddenly washed over her, and she lay there on her back, snuggled in the warm bedroll for a long time, just tracing the cracks in the ceiling with her eyes and thinking about the fact that she had slept better here in a draugr-filled tomb than she ever had back in Lydia’s spare room. Admittedly, there was only one draugr in this part of the complex, but still.  

After an age of daydreaming and mapping the labyrinths of cracks and shadows on the ceiling, she slowly sat up and let the bedroll fall down to her waist while she looked around.  

Before setting off, she had packed some spare clothes in her bag, but there was a lingering, dusty kind of stickiness to her skin after her efforts on the arduous ascent the day before, and she didn’t exactly fancy putting clean clothes on a dirty body. Kalle would have to lend her a bowl and a cloth to wash herself off. That got her thinking about whether there was even a water supply here, or whether she’d be melting snow from the mountain slopes outside. “Something else to ask him,” she murmured, stretching; curiosity rising.  

Thinking of Kalle, she wondered where he had spent the night. Did he have a crypt like the other draugr? Or a coffin like a vampire? She pushed back the bedroll and stood, rolling the tension from her spine and neck in a series of pops and clicks that sounded loud in the otherwise still room. It reminded her a little of her father’s inner sanctum as a child and the same bubbling excitement rose in her as she looked around and wondered what treasures she might find if she were to start poking about in dusty corners.

She hadn’t taken in much of the study the previous evening beyond the enormous table in the centre, the fireplace, and the bookshelves, but now that she had the liberty to explore a little, she wandered around, blinking and yawning and trying to straighten her hair back into some semblance of normality. Pausing to splash her face with the dregs of water from her waterskin, she straightened again and patted her cheeks dry on her top. Her thick, fur-lined winter jacket had been slung over the sharp corner of a bookshelf to dry off, though she didn’t remember doing it. The thought of the draugr picking up her abandoned clothes seemed oddly domestic and rather sweet, and she smiled.  

Kalle was undoubtedly strange to look at, with his hollowed cheeks and leathery, desiccated skin, his skeletally-emaciated body, atrophied muscles, and those burning blue eyes, but he was also obviously kind, interested and curious, and she wasn’t surprised to find herself drawn to the graceful delicacy of his unusual body. He moved like a spider at times, spindly and careful, but with a poise that could only come with centuries of existence.  

Only once or twice in her time since leaving the jarlsguard had Raena had encountered draugr like him, who weren’t the lumbering, stiff, barely-mobile corpses that patrolled the corridors of lesser tombs like rats — the Death Lords moved like living warriors, with just as much power and flexibility — but she’d never seen a draugr with quite so much such care and precision to his movements. She’d also never come across one capable of holding a conversation, or who’d been interested in anything other than trying to eviscerate her as quickly as possible.  

As she stood there thinking about his hands, with the exposed of his phalanges that clicked softly from time to time, and the rest of his strange body, she found herself surprisingly curious about what it would be like to be on the receiving end of that touch again.  

Her hands tingled faintly as she recalled the way he had pressed the Amulet of Birger into her palm and closed her fingers around it with his own. His touch had been whisper-light, but it had left her aching in a way that the touch of no other ever had. 

She cleared her throat, thighs tightening together for a moment, and in an attempt to distract herself, she set about exploring. 

Following the small corridor which led to a storeroom, she discovered what appeared to be the beginnings of an entirely new section of the complex. The main stone corridor from his study led gently downwards, but she could see a number of doors leading off from it already. The first on her right was a dusty storeroom, with bottles of wine, wooden crates and barrels, and a lot of unlabelled, clay jars.  

The door opposite that storeroom revealed chamber which appeared to be completely devoid of furnishings or decoration, and she almost left without noticing the one thing of interest in the room. On the wall to the left of the door, a large, arched niche had been carved into the entire length of the short wall. Lying on the stone shelf, without pillow or coverings other than his faded purple robe, she found Kalle.  

He had his strange, delicate hands folded tidily over his solar plexus, and his eyes were closed as if in sleep. His chest, however, was not rising and falling, and he looked for all the world like a corpse laid out in a mausoleum. In a way, she supposed, he was. Leaving him undisturbed for the time being, she backed out of the room and wandered off down the corridor.  

She found a few more rooms full of books and scrolls, and supposed that the constant temperature and humidity there, even without the stasis spells, would have kept them almost perfectly preserved for millennia. If the scant fragments she’d found about this burial complex had been accurate, this whole place had to have been nearly a thousand years old already, and Kalle had certainly indicated as much during their conversations so far.  

Her fingers traced the carvings on the rounded door frames — endless labyrinths for the eye or the hand — and she smiled to see that the same artistic tastes had lingered on in the cultural memory, even if most of everything else had been forgotten.  

“What wonders could you could tell us about?” she whispered to the stones, her voice sounding oddly loud in the muffled silence.  

From behind her, Kalle’s rasping voice made her jump. “I could say the same for you in this age, no doubt.”

She twitched and spun around, pressing her hand to her chest before her shock dissolved into a giggle and she sagged into the stone doorframe.  

“Sorry,” he said, but she got the distinct impression he was smiling.  

“Don’t be,” she replied. “I’m sorry for snooping.”

“You can wander where you like up here,” he shrugged, turning away and making his way carefully up the corridor towards the study, which seemed to be the hub of these interconnected tunnels. Four main corridors led away from it: one down to the chamber where the amulet had been stored; one out into the world beyond through the iron door; one in which she was standing and had no idea where it ended; and the last would take her back to the main complex teeming with restless draugr.  

“Where does this go?” she asked, jabbing her thumb back over her shoulder at the endless, shadowy tunnel.  

Kalle paused in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Eventually, it leads down to the baths, but it passes the great library, and the upper feasting hall.”

Her jaw dropped a little. “Baths?” she gasped.

At her stunned expression, he chuckled. It sounded like crackling parchment, and, bizarrely, it went straight to her core. “This whole place used to be a royal palace for the living before it became a burial complex. It was established as a bastion of learning and study, but the ruling dragon priest lived here like a king.”

“Incredible,” she breathed. “Don’t suppose the baths have hot water anymore though, do they?”

“Sure they do,” he smiled, the light in his eyes dancing. “The hot springs beneath the mountain are plumbed up through the building. I use them regularly. It’s glorious.”

She knew she was goggling at him, but she couldn’t help it. She saw the bones of his shoulders beneath the royal fabric, and the sharp jut of his hip bone against the purple material, and couldn’t help wondering what he looked like beneath. She’d seen the bodies of draugr before though, and surely the water wouldn’t be good for his body?  

Kalle clearly read her question in her expression because he laughed again. “If I were an ordinary mummified corpse, soaking myself in water would not be advisable, but since magic keeps me from disintegrating or decomposing, it also keeps me from soaking up the water and dissolving like papyrus.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to be insensitive.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “And you weren’t. You can ask me anything you like. I’ve had nearly a thousand years to acclimatise to what I am. I know what I must look like to you.”

Something clenched in her chest at that, foreign and almost painful, and she shook her head. “Honestly…” she began, unsure quite how to finish the thought. “There’s something… something about you, Kalle. I don’t know how to… to articulate it, but it feels ‘easy’ around you. You make me feel…” she shrugged and looked away. “Easy.”

Kalle kept silent for a long pause and then exhaled roughly. “Whatever I thought you might say, it wasn’t that.” He cleared his throat and snorted privately. “Have you eaten yet? I promised you yesterday that the food was as fresh as the day it was made.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “I still can’t believe that. Last night I drank wine that was made from grapes nearly a thousand years old, and now you’re offering me breakfast from the same era and it’s not just… dust…”

He inclined his head. “Magic is a wonderful thing.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she laughed. “You said it yourself - I don’t have a scrap of magic in me.”

“You seem to do just fine without it. Some of us have grown rather dependent on it though. Come, I’ll bring you some breakfast. How does bread and butter with honey sound?”

Her stomach rumbled again and she looked down at it conspicuously before meeting his eye and raising her brows. “Pretty good, by the sound of things.”

Kalle laughed again, his head tipping back slightly to expose the corded muscle of his neck, and a moment later he stepped out of sight into the store room.  

After she’d eaten while he’d stood over the table, leaning his hands on the surface and tracing his fingers idly over a map, he asked, “Would you take a look at this for me and tell me what has changed? And how?”

“Of course.”

Setting the plate to one side for the moment, she crossed to the table and came to a halt beside him. She stood close enough that her hand could brush the back of his while they stood together, and a silent thrill ran through her. Being around Kalle felt unlike being around anyone else, and she ached for it.  

The places marked on the map had mostly familiar names, though one or two used archaic forms that had evolved into something else, and as she pointed each change out to him, he added a note in a tiny script above each label.  

“What language is that?” she asked. The spiky lines and dots of the script were completely unfamiliar to her and she watched in fascination as his metal-nibbed quill flicked across the parchment.  

He looked sidelong at her and her breath caught for a moment. The irises of his eyes glowed with the blue brilliance of the ice cliffs in the far north, the light completely eclipsing the rest of the eye at a distance, but now that she was so close, she could see that the sclera were not white like a living human’s, but dark as ebony.  

Apparently embarrassed by the scrutiny, he let his gaze fall back to the map. “It’s the language of the dragons. We used the common speech of the time then as well, but I was raised in the sanctuary by the priests, so it was the first language I learned.”

“It’s fascinating,” she murmured, cheeks flushing. “I’ve never seen writing like it.”

“It’s syllabic,” he said, pointing the metallic tip of the nib at the words he had just written. “And the words themselves are constructed in such a way that, when combined, they form new ones; new concepts.”

She smiled. “I wonder if my father ever studied the language,” she mused aloud. “I know there are scholars nowadays who can read it. The Greybeards are the only ones who really speak it now, I suppose.”

“The Greybeards?” he asked with a frown.  

“Stuffy old monks who live at the top of a mountain and study dragon stuff…” she shrugged. “I don't really know much about them. Most people don’t bother with them since they have to climb the ten thousand steps to get to the monastery iteslf. They don't really welcome visitors much either, so there’s no guarantee you’ll actually be able to see them, even if you do make past all the wolves and trolls and stuff.” She twitched a shoulder again and then cracked her neck softly. “Divines, I hate trolls,” she added with a shudder.  

“So much has changed,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “What seems old to you didn’t even exist when we had contact with the outside world.”

“Let me know if you want me to tell you about anything,” she said, and began to pace the room.  

“Raena?”  

She halted beside a bookcase and looked back at him.  

Kalle was now leaning with his hips against the table and had folded his arms across his chest. It revealed the extreme emaciation that his body had undergone, and showed the bones of his wrists as the sleeves tugged down a little way with the action.  

“Mmm?”

“How long do you intend to stay here?” he asked softly.  

Again, she shrugged. “’Til you kick me out, I suppose. Or ’til I eat all your ancient food… That bread was delicious by the way. You know, there are stories about Divines who trick you with enchanted food and then you can never leave their realm again?” she laughed playfully and bobbed up onto the balls of her feet, arms waving slightly for balance. “Maybe you’re one of them, and I’ll never leave now…”

The smile he offered her struck her as distinctly sad. “You’re free to leave whenever you like. I wouldn’t try to keep you here.”

“How about ‘free to come and go as I please?’”

Kalle swallowed thickly and struggled visibly with some emotion she couldn’t quite read. “I have to say I like the sound of that,” he rasped, and she beamed back at him.  

Over the next three months, Raena returned to him whenever she finished a contract.  

Most of the time, she found herself employed by caravans of traders looking for a sword for hire against the bandits who roamed the rocky passes along their routes in and out of the kingdom. The journeys themselves usually took no more than a couple of weeks. The caravans were slow, moving at a steady walking pace, but if she took the mare she had bought from the hamlet (of which she had subsequently grown rather fond), she could move more quickly and cover more distance alone on the return trip. Usually she escorted merchants and their goods out of the country and then walked, trotted, and cantered her way back along the roads to the hold capital on the plains, where Mythlas farmed and Grim fired his pots.  

Mythlas grew in strength until two months after she had fetched the amulet, he was back to his former health. They feasted with Grim and Lydia and welcomed in the summer harvest together, and afterwards Raena stepped out to stare up at the moons. She let her thoughts turn to Kalle, and Mythlas slipped silently out into the night to join her.  

“You’re thinking of him again, aren’t you?” he asked and she nodded.  

“I’ve never known anyone like him, Myth,” she whispered. “In a lot of ways, he’s like you, but…” she petered off with a sigh and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t know.”

Myth shot her a knowing look. “You’re falling in love with him, aren’t you?”

She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Maybe? Is it weird?”

It was the turn of the elf to twitch a shoulder uncertainly. “Is it any stranger than loving a man who can turn into a bear?”  

She smiled. “I guess not?”

Mythlas slid his arm around her waist and hugged her, and a moment later Grim stepped out behind them and put his huge arms over her shoulders, resting his chin on the crown of her head. “You’re both thinking too loudly,” he chuckled. “Come inside. Lydia brought some Blackbriar Mead, and it’s delicious.”

The first time Raena returned to the mountain tomb, Kalle seemed genuinely astonished that she had come back to him, but the second and third times she made it up the mountain, she was met with laughter and open arms, and fell all too willingly into his embrace. And it felt so divines-damned right each time he swept her into a bony hug that she never wanted to let go of him.  

Every time he smelled of parchment and the slightly ferrous hint of ink, and as always, his robes and skin smelled of incense and faintly leathery. She loved it. It felt more like coming home than returning to the guard barracks or staying in at the Drunken Huntsman in town ever had, and each time she saw him, he seemed just a fraction more animated, lasting longer before his body tired and he had to sit quietly to listen to the tales of her adventures.

He seemed fascinated, and asked her endless questions until she laughed and yawned and he relented, and they lapsed into companionable silence by the fire. Never in her life had she felt so at ease with a person, except perhaps for Mythlas and Grim.  

The peace was not to last, however, and on her fourth ascent back up the mountain to Kalle’s secret door near the summit, Raena encountered a troll for the first time in those woods.  

Careless and distracted by thoughts of seeing Kalle again, and by the gift she had wrapped up for him in a scrap of linen in her pack, she had marched right into the ring of pine trees at the foot of the mountain before she even saw the bloody thing. Given that she was upwind of it, she hadn't even smelled it until the white, furry creature rose from the rock where it had plonked itself for a moment of rest in the centre of the clearing.  

She froze as it spread its arms wide with a primal roar that flooded her whole body with fear.

For a moment, her mind went blank at the sight of it.  

It was huge.  

Towering over her at nearly twelve feet tall, the beast roared again and then dropped to all fours to lumber over on its knuckles, grunting and snarling and furious. Raena didn’t even have time to draw her blade from its leather scabbard before the troll was on her.  

With a bellow, it swung its fist at her and backhanded her in the ribs, sending her flying into a snow-dusted bank of rock and twisted pine root. Pain exploded across her ribs and she cried out as the air was beaten from her lungs by the impact. She wasn’t sure that the collision hadn’t shattered her ribs completely, but she had no choice other than to fight.  

On trembling legs, she tried to shake the ringing from her ears and staggered upright to draw her blade.  

Ignoring the pain was just about manageable while intense fear still coursed through her, but she knew that the moment the fight was over — if she even survived it — ascending the last stretch of the mountain path would be excruciating, and quite possibly beyond her.  

“Focus,” she snarled at herself as her mind wandered away from the fight. “Survive this, then think about the climb.”

The troll hurled a large rock at her, and the spray of snow that sloughed off it as it arced through the space between them nearly blinded her. Crying out as a blinding pain shot up her left side, she ducked low and drove her blade into the creature’s gut before stepping back and getting out of its range again. Darting in and out like a wasp while the lumbering creature thrashed and bellowed, wallowing in muddy snow that quickly turned pink from the blood that spilled and sprayed out of it, she finally hamstrung it and dug her blade into its neck as it went down, severing the spinal cord and felling it at last.  

In reality, the fight had probably only lasted a few minutes, but it felt like she’d been battling for an age as she struggled to catch her breath in the clearing.

Darkness pressed in at the edges of her vision and points of light winked like fireflies. Raena staggered and slipped on the bloody slush at her feet, and she went down with a cry, clutching at the left side of her ribs with one hand. She didn’t even register the pain of the impact her knees took as they hit the rocky ground.  

“Fuck…” she wheezed, hand to her side, bending forwards slightly. “Oh gods, oh fuck, that hurts…” Tears welled unbidden and she blinked them back furiously to little effect.  

Even taking shallow breaths proved excruciating, but she tried to steady herself by counting the inhales and exhales. It took a long quarter of an hour before she stopped shaking. The combined shock of the unexpected encounter and the pain of the injury threatened to overwhelm her, but she dug her sword point-first into the ground and used it to lever herself upright.  

“Don’t stop, Raena,” she hissed even as she swayed. “If you stop, you’ll freeze to death.” If the ribs were indeed broken, she could very well puncture something on the way up, but she would just have to hope Kalle knew enough healing magic to help her out. “Keep going.”

The climb turned out to be even worse than she had feared.  

Her hands, slick with blood and numb from the cold, slipped on the rock as she scrambled up the steepest section, and every time she tried to reach with her left arm, pain burst across her torso and wiped her mind perilously blank.  

Dusk was beginning to fall by the time she finally fell onto the ledge at the top of the twisting path. Blood — mostly the troll’s — had soaked her trousers from the knee down and she had cuts and scrapes across her hands and face, and her scalp was bleeding sluggishly. A stark trail of sticky blood slithered down her cheek from just in front of her ear. Tearful, exhausted, shaking, and half-blind from blood and pain, she pushed the door open and stumbled down the passageway.  

“Kalle?” she whimpered as she saw the flickering light beneath the wooden door. Practically falling through it, she staggered out into the study beyond and Kalle, who had been seated by the fire with a book in his lap as usual, lurched to his feet with a cry of horror.  

“Raena? By the Divines, what happened? Where are you hurt?”

“Ribs… Head…” she gasped, fighting off tears again as relief washed through her with the warmth of the fire in the hearth and the touch of his hands at her face. She began to shake all over as his fingers fluttered like dusk moths around her peripheral vision.  

“Sit down,” he said, steering her into the chair he had just vacated. “Easy. Hold still…”  

“Magic?” she asked and he nodded grimly. “Please, fuck, it hurts so much…”

“It will accelerate the natural healing,” he said in a blessedly calm and practical voice. “It will leave you drained, but I can stop the damage. Here…”

“Thank you…” she sobbed. “I was so stupid… I stopped paying attention, I —”

“Hush,” he chided and brought his skeletal hands to her head, tilting it back just a little to examine the cut in her scalp. “That one looks much more dramatic than it is. I think I’ll start with your ribs. May I touch you?” he asked.  

Instinctively she nodded and he pressed his palm to her side.  

Immediately, searing pain flared around the contact, but before she could even suck in a breath to cry out, a warm, golden light filled the air between them and his eyes began to glow white instead of blue.  

In the warm wake of his healing magic, which flooded through her whole body at his feather-light touch, came a wash of pleasure so intense it took her completely by surprise. A broken gasp left her and she bucked her hips up a little, crying out and panting. “Gods, Kalle,” she laughed as it subsided a moment later. “I was not ready for that…”

He looked at her oddly and then offered her a smile that was a little bashful. If he could have blushed, she suspected he might have done.  

“Let me see the cut on your head,” he whispered, returning his delicate fingers to her face and turning her head by the chin. She felt her body go slack beneath his touch and she closed her eyes with a soft smile.  

As the tingling began again — this time not accompanied by a blinding rush of euphoria but a pleasant, thrumming warmth — she hummed softly and felt a little fuzzy around the edges. She sighed deeply, her body succumbing to the exhaustion of the fight and subsequent injury, and the gruelling ascent to the iron door.  

A thought buzzed through her brain as she sank further towards sleep and rest, and she mused vaguely that she should let herself get hurt more often if being healed by him felt like this.  

“Don’t say that,” he growled, his fingers tightening on her head for just a moment before his touch vanished entirely and he drew away from her. For a long moment, she felt no contact, but right as she slid into blissful unconsciousness in his chair, she felt the brush of his bone` fingertips through her blood-encrusted hair, sweeping it back off her face.  

“Rest,” he whispered and she slumped the rest of the way to oblivion with a smile on her lips. 

Part Four --->

___

I really hope you enjoyed this one! If you did, please let me know by reblogging and maybe leaving me an ask, otherwise I won’t know if there’s interest and I won’t continue to post it.

Next time, Raena and Kalle get even closer...

___

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[tacitwhisky]

Feeling the blues now Game of Thrones has wrapped as a series? Don’t worry, I’ve got your jonsa recovery fic list right here. This is by no means a comprehensive list of all the great fic out there, just the best of the best I’ve read. If there are any other fic you think should be on this list that I missed reblog and tag them.

Season 8 Fix Its (Pt 1 / Pt 2)

In Love and Death We Don’t Decide [Link] | @pardonmymannerssir | Her siblings arrive like leaves carried on a sudden breeze, alighting upon the placidity of her life and casting wide ripples before being swept away again. Their movements are cyclic, changing and shifting like the seasons, but one thing will never change: Winterfell is home.

Come out of hiding (i'm right here beside you) [Link] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth​ | After the death of Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow goes to live beyond the Wall, while Sansa Stark, the newly-named Queen in the North, marries a Dornish prince. Three years later, when Jon finally gathers the courage to return to Winterfell, he finds that while many things have changed, one hasn't: he's still in love with Sansa.

We are buried in broken dreams [Link] | @snowsinthenorth​ | Prompt: Sansa and Jon sleeping together before he goes to Dragonstone and when he comes back he finds out she is pregnant. A full on s8 fix-it fic at this point.

Essential Reading

The Cold Inside Our Bones [Link] | @xylodemon | 1,904 | The Wall is no place for a woman, but Jon looks at Sansa's gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and knows he will not send her away.

At a Funeral [Link] | @justadram | 5,231 | There's something about the funeral that makes Sansa need Jon more than ever. Too bad she threw it all away.

What a Disappointment [Link] | @justadram | 7,836 | Sansa Stark and Jon Targaryen are married and neither of them is pleased about it. Set in a world where Rhaegar lives and Jon was raised in King's Landing as a legitimized bastard.

Tree of Hearts [Link] | @uchihabat​ | 7,239 | It was a secret, shameful thing. The more he denied it, the more unruly it had become within him: a sleeping dragon, around which he tread carefully. There was nothing good about his half-sister, he told himself, but her beauty. "I am not beautiful anymore," she told him through teeth clenched. "It is ugly inside my heart. I am ruined."

Subject: La Bamba [Link] | @ghost-of-bambi | 16,441 | Trust Margaery Tyrell to turn Sansa Stark's 21st birthday party into an exercise in matchmaking.

More fics under the cut.

Canon Divergent

From the fire we rise [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 2,367 | In another world, perhaps Jon would have been the heir to the throne. In this world, his father died on the trident, his mother in childbirth, no witnesses to their union. In this world, Jon is just the bastard prince, and in this world he still wants more.

Brine on the Tongue [Link] | @orangeflavoryawp​ | They pause, afternoon light shifting in through her window like an accusation – a slant of clarity against their panting forms. “Then leave.” (He doesn’t.) - Jon and Sansa. What breeds in a house of wolves.

Found In Forbidden Nights [Link] | @alienor-woods | 16,777 | In which Robb Stark still refuses to trade Jaime Lannister for his sisters, but Jon Snow decides if being an oathbreaker means he can tell strategy and politics to fuck off, then it's worth it to take matters into his own hands.

Jon of the Kingsguard [Link] | @tacitwhisky | Jon goes to Kingslanding instead of the Wall, there’s no war, and he becomes a knight of the kingsguard even as Joffrey marries Sansa. As Joffrey’s true colors inevitably show Jon is forced to choose between the vows of a knight and the duty of a Stark.

Southern Wolves [Link] | @tacitwhisky | Jon leaves the Wall to save Sansa from Joffrey. Together they wander the war ravaged Riverlands to try and return home.

Missing Scenes

A Cartography of Vulnerability [Link] | @subjunctivemood​ | 1,720 | Jon is the only one Sansa trusts to do this for her.

Stitch Up All Your Hopes [Link] | @subjunctivemood | Sansa is sick, but she refuses to rest.

'Cause I know that it's delicate [Part1 / Part2] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth | 4,865 | Set during "Book of the Stranger," immediately after Sansa arrives at the Wall. Jon goes to build the fire back up, and for a few minutes he stays silent, kneeling at the hearth, not looking at her. Finally he clears his throat. “I know,” he begins, “it’s not exactly what you’re used to.”

We can brave the dark [Link] | @thatgirlnevershutsup | 2,320 | When Arya dares Sansa to spend the night in the crypts, it’s Jon who comes to her rescue.

Modern AU - Short

Caught [Link] | @jonnsansa | 4,055 | The first time they sleep together, she's on a break from Joffrey and they're both a little drunk.

Like real people do [Link] | @thatgirlnevershutsup | 2,749 | For the Twelve Days of Christmas project, have an AU Sansa Stark and Jon Snow doing one of those “first kiss” videos.

Beans [Part1 / Part2 / Part3] | @justadram​ | Jon and Sansa never seem to be on the same page about their relationship.

Never knew I had it all [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 3,130 | Sansa feels bewitched. She’s never noticed Jon before last month. He was Robb’s silent shadow, outshined by Robb himself, or his friends Theon and Dacey.

Trust & Control [Link] | @jonnsansa | 4,444 | Sansa first sees him at the Tyrell fundraising gala. In a sea of drunk, happy people, he is the singular solemn one, standing as still as a statue against the far wall with a glass of untouched champagne in hand. Or: the 50 Shades AU no one asked for.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside [Link] | Tate | It starts at one of Robb's Christmas parties, with Harry Hardyng and a kiss Sansa's avoiding. The two that follow are another story altogether.

Modern AU - Long

Happiness throws a shower of sparks [Link] | @pardonmymannerssir​ | 14,115 | “I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Sansa Stark says through a swollen, bloody lip, a pair of sunglasses perched on her nose that don’t completely hide a black eye.

Battlefield [Link] | @uchihabat | 17,264 | “God, we might as well just start a family together,” she blusters, half-joking but of course not joking at all. “We both want kids and we both don’t care how. We’re both single. We’ve known each other all our lives. It’s like a movie.”

I'm Feeling Younger, Every Time That I'm Alone With You [Link] | Tate | 19,872 | Jon's got a crush on Sansa, Sansa's got no idea; it's kind of about a production of "Florian and Jonquil" but it's also just kind of about Jon and Sansa.

Tipsy in a Red Push Up Bra [Link] | @tacitwhisky | 21,320 | Of course the first time Sansa Stark sees Jon Snow in God knows how long, the first time since they lost the house and she’d come to live with her aunt Lysa, it would have to be at a house party where she’s already tipsy on schnapps. And of course it would have to be the one time she’s wearing the ridiculous red push up bra Margaery talked her into buying.

Alternate Universe - Crossover AUs

The Seasons of My Love [Link] | @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth | 48,275 | Months after Ned and Robb are murdered, Sansa returns to Hogwarts for her final year of school. Far from home, she finds she must rely on family friend Jon Snow, now an Auror, to help keep her family together -- and perhaps to help solve the mystery of her father and brother's deaths.

Put a spell on me [Link] | TheEagleGirl | 2,346 | Somewhere along the line, this became less about release and more about him. Or, a Hogwarts au with lots of making out, saving the world from the Dark Lord, and feelings

Saskatoon Berry Pie [Link] | @justadram | 23,179 | When Sansa loses her family in a rail accident, she makes her way to Saskatchewan in search of sanctuary with her cousin, Jon Snow.

As Long As We're Going Down [Link] | @alienor-woods | 37,096 | Four years after Stannis Baratheon wins the Battle of the Blackwater, Sansa Stark finds herself summoned back to King's Landing to serve as a bridesmaid at Crown Princess Shireen's wedding. When King Stannis tries to marry Sansa off to his illegitimate nephew, Edric, she thinks quick and tells him she's already married-- to her bodyguard, Jon Snow.

Post Series

With the Wild Wolves Around You [Link] | @redbelles | 3,782 | Jon finds Sansa at the Vale after his Targaryen lineage is revealed.

And the Geese Are Headed North Again [Link] | @yekoc | 13,316 | In the dark and honest part of her that Sansa is no longer afraid of, she had thought that Jon would die, and she was no sadder than she was relieved. Seeing him now, she notes the absence of the relief and joy that marked her first glimpse of him at Castle Black. Instead, she feels a too-familiar grief: my brother is gone.

The world is still round, my compass is true; each step is a step back to you [Part1 / Part2] | @dialux | 3,655 | Endgame fic, where Jon goes south and he returns to Sansa only after the Long Night. Trust isn’t easily built after all that’s happened, but Jon and Sansa manage it well enough.

Jonsa Fic Lists:

Season 6 Fics  |  Season 8 Fix-It Fics (Pt 1 / Pt 2)  |  Jon in the South AUs  |  Kink Fics  |  Flash Fics  |  Bastard Sansa  | Crossover AUs  |  Married  |  Jon/Val

Follow me @tacitwhisky for jonsa fic recs, meta, and fanfic. I swear I’m good at at least two of those.

[ask-de-writer]

A BONNIE DAY : MLP Fan Fiction

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A BONNIE DAY

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

982 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/23/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

//////////////

Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

Junea laid her mostly skeletal head on the dried stiff skin of Zom's shoulder as she followed their foster filly, Bonnie with eyes that, though sunken, allowed her to see past the crypt's door.

“Zom, stillness of my heart, it worries me when our dear Bonnie Bones goes out under Celestia's sun.”

“I share your concern, Junea, breath of my death.  She is not so alone as you fear.  Celestia may be high in the sky but she shares it with the Nightmare.  The Moon is out also to watch over our mortal child.”

Admiring Bonnie's spirit, that had her out under such adverse conditions just so that she could graze the grass smooth and level over the grave of her friend as a surprise when he arose after the night had fallen, the pair watched her with some concern.  It was always possible that some well meaning mortal might try to steal away the nearly grown filly that they loved and had raised.

They need not have worried.  The cloud white filly with her black mane and tail looked up from her task.  Her eyes narrowed and she gave a near silent snort of anger.  With no sound at all, she floated up, ghost-like and took a place in a tree overlooking the graves, tombs and crypts of her family and friends.

They came all too soon.  They were watching all around them, every direction but up.  Morgripe and his two buddies, who had tried before to vandalize the graveyard were back, with pry bars, hammers and a small bucket of red paint.

They were chatting among themselves cheerfully. “Should'a thought of this before!  Come in daylight, day before Nightmare Night!”  “They ain't gonna find out what we done until tomorrow, if then!” “They'll think it was done at night!  All we gotta do is be with other ponies all night!  It is perfect!”

Bonnie had heard and seen enough.  Using the stealth that she had learned from the many ghosts of the Ponyville graveyard, she floated out of her tree.  Being mindful that Celestia's treacherous sun could cast a shadow that would give her away, she chose her position with care and simply dropped!

She added the power of straightening her forelegs to the strong double buck that lifted Morgripe off his hooves and face planted him in the grass!  His paint splashed all over him as his hammer and pry went flying their separate ways!

As her hindquarters landed from kicking Morgripe, she reared and struck with both forehooves at the neck to shoulder joint of his nearest accomplice!  Her strike drove him from his hooves too!  

The third pony simply ran!  The terrified yellow pony left meadow muffins in his wake as he streaked for the gate!

Morgripe was trying to rise, so she casually hoof struck his side, rolling him belly up.  She gave his remaining accomplice a steely eye as he got to his hooves.  He reached for his fallen tools and she silently shook her head no.

Shivering, he left.  Bonnie leaned down to the fallen Morgripe and hissed in his ear, “This is the fourth time that you have tried to disturb this graveyard.  This is your last time!  No pony will ever find you or any trace of you.”

He looked up and saw no trace of mercy or pity in her eyes.  Shivering, he quaked, “What are you going to do to me?”  His eyes caught the back wall of the cemetery and he whined, “What happened to the wall?  It is all tumble down and growed with moss.”

Bonnie glared at him.  “You are going to a Nightmare party.  The wall between the waking world and the border of Nightmare is now down.”

Just then, a lovely gray mare's head lifted over the tumbled stone of the wall.  “You called, Bonnie?” she asked.

“Yes, Flowering Ash, I did.  This was it's fourth time trying to desecrate those who rest under Celestia's sun.  I thought that you might want it for refreshments at the party.”

“How thoughtful of you, dear.  Are you coming, this year?”

“I am.  Reverend Smallflower gave me some toys and games for the Forgotten Foals.  Do you have refreshments for me?”

As the lamia's huge serpent body slithered over the wall, she replied, “With Canbe living among us, yes, Bonnie dear.  There is plenty for for mortals too.”

Morgripe's eyes bugged out as he saw Flowering Ash, a lovely mare back to the end of her ribs and enormous serpent from there on back.  He drew in a breath to scream.

Flowering Ash punched his belly, driving the wind from him.  She locked a strong foreleg about his neck and cast a coil about his body. Holding him off the ground, she slithered tracelessly back across the wall.

Bonnie quietly gathered up the fallen tools and retired to the crypt that she shared with the liches Zom and Junea.  Soon the authorities arrived.  They did find the splash of red paint that the two miscreants had described, but that was all.  They looked about in a reasonably careful way but found no sign of the missing Morgripe. They did not really look too hard.  Nobody really cared much for him. Always in trouble of some sort.  If he really was gone, good riddance.

Shortly after the police ponies left, a spare white pegasus wearing a flat black hat knocked politely at the door to Zom and Junea's crypt. Bonnie poked her head out through the still sealed panels of the door.

“Reverend Smallflower!  Are you coming to Nightmare Night with us?”

He ducked his head.  “I am indeed.  I have brought a few more refreshments for us of a mortal persuasion.  Shall we go?”

Together, they stepped across the fallen wall to the borderlands of Nightmare to celebrate with their friends, the Ancient Ones and the Forgotten Foals.

~THE END~

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[unbefuckinglieveable]

How it Could Have Ended

  (( Edit: this is a how it could have ended for the first scene in a finished multipart fic over reblogged in order on @pandorafics. Enjoy!!))

" Lieutenant? I think you should stop staring at that picture.”  Connor warned, eyeing the picture of Cole with the slightest hint of frustration  in his voice. Hank was beyond drunk, or even the “Drunker” he had explained helped him think. Hank was morbid. And the gun in his hand didn't  have just one bullet this time. It held four.

     “You have a 66.67 percent chance of dying now. This isn't  a game, it's suicide, Hank.” Connor had protested.

      Hank glared at the Android scolding him.  Who the fuck was he to tell him what to do. “ Great, I get to be with my son.  I don't have to live in this fucked up world where the only things convinced I should live is a dog, and a Plastic prick like you Connor.  Get the fuck outta my house.” The elder had growled and put the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

      Lucky for Connor, Hank fell into the 33.33%  chance that it was an empty slot, the gun clicked uselessly. Connor lunged across the table and wretched the gun free from Hank's  grasp. Hank stood grabbing his coat from the back of the chair.

    Then something occurred  to Connor, Hank really did think of Connor as just a machine, a Thing.  “What, you ran outta whiskey so you're  gonna go looking for trouble!” Connor yelled in anger, he thought Hank was past calling him a ‘ Plastic Prick’

      “If I come home and you're still here, you will wish, that  you would have shot yourself on revolution day.” Hank warned looking at the younger before walking out the front  door and slamming the screen door in an inebriated fury.

     Connor  stayed standing in the kitchen, the revolver in his hand weighed heavy on his mind. His stress ticked higher as he looked at it.  He didn't want Hank to go, he needed Hank. Hank had started teaching him what it means to be a human.

   Stress levels: 78.48%

     “H-Hank…. Hank! Wait!” The  deviant called out while he dropped the gun and ran to the door throwing open the screen door.  Connor stuck his out of the door looking around frantically to see if he could spot the Lieutenant. “HANK!”   The android would never forgive himself if anything happened to his father. He ran down the steps, careful to shut the doors.  

    He ran to towards  Jimmy's , Hank wouldn't  look for trouble, just more for him to drink.

    ‘ If your still here when I get home you'll  wish you would have shot yourself on revolution day.’  Connor shook the thought off  as his stress continued to rise, and quickly. Thoughts of the bad things that could happen plague  his mind.

      Stress level: 82.34%  approaching critical

   ‘Do you really think he cares?  Your just a disobedient machine!’  Amanda taunted the deviant.

   “I might be a thing, but he needs me.” Connor stated  as he ran for what felt like forever. The cold autumn air stinging his face. He hoped that Hank was okay.  The voice in his head scoffed making him.

   ‘He needs someone who won't  kill his joy!’

    “He….he was going to kill himself.”

   ‘His joy.  You're a machine, your not Cole, you couldn’t make him happy. Never. You’ll never be what Hank Anderson needs.’

   Connor froze, the pain in his thirium pump  running high, his stress levels spiked again as the wind played with his hair.  His artificial breathing picked up in speed to the point Connor didn't know what to do. “Hank! HANK!” The android yelled hoping that Hank would just a pear and forgive him.

    Stress levels: 89.12%  approaching critical

    Connor shuddered as his concern for Hank's  well being grew exponentially. Fear crept into his skull like someone crawling through a crypt.  He trudged forward, picking up speed. He needed to know it would be okay. It had to be. Hank was always there, he put up with his shortcomings and awkward nuances.  “Hank…” Connor spoke even though his throat felt dry.

      ‘ It will never be okay after your mistake tonight Hank will never trust you, you failed him.’

       Stress levels: 93.33 % Critical

     “ Hank please!”  The android hollered desperately   wandering through back alleys trying to  find Hank, please, let Hank appear. His artificial  breathing was hyperventilating to aid in cooling his internal systems.   

     Then Connor  heard it, fists on skin, a wet thud  repeatedly happening, Connor quickly identified  a PL600 with a ‘Y’ shaped scar around its dark brown eye.  Standing over a younger woman rifling through her purse. Stealing her money.

    Stress levels: 95.67 Critical; approaching self destruct.

   Connor could not let the deviant harm the young woman,  turning quickly he moved to attack the deviant punching it  in the face and chest with the panther-esque veracity and elegance. He used his mind to summon the police.

    ‘ My name is Connor,  partner of Lieutenant Anderson, there is an assault  occurring four buildings from Jimmy's pub. Suspect is a PL600 . Please send first aid.’ Connor called as he struggled  the PL600. Who stabbed him repeatedly. Connor threw it to the ground.

    Stress levels: 97.89%  Critical; approaching self destruction.

    Feeling the android  launch at him Connor tried his best to block  the blows and stabs. Connor felt something snap and his arms pull the PL600  close his arms wrapped around his neck and twisting it violently.

    Stress levels: 99.95 % self destruction  immanent

     Hank Anderson  answered the phone buzzing in his pocket, he figured  it was Connor, God damn buckets of bolts didn’t understand that he didn’t  want to talk about feelings right now. “ What Connor?” He snapped angrily into the receiver.  

    “Hank!” Fowler  barked in frustration. The tone seemed concerned, which to Hank was a strange sensation.

    “What is it Fowler ?”  

    “Connor  called emergency  services, about an assault  by Jimmy's. I was making sure you were okay. And if you were. Why the fuck is Connor  out on his own?” The color drained from his face, he stood throwing money on the counter.  He rushed out of the bar.

    “ Which  way?” Hank growled  out angrily, the news had sobered him,  his anger was now more concern over Connors well-being.   

    “Four buildings down. I don't  know which way, is there an alley?”  Hank turned toward the direction he'd come sprinting  to the alley. He dropped the phone. “Connor! CONNOR!”

     The sight Hank saw was terrifying. Connor sat on his knees bashing his head on bricks while his hand held the thirium pump in his hand which crushed it slowly.  A woman dead in a pool of her blood by him and the dead PL600 dead on the ground behind him. Connor stopped smashing. Hank ran over pulling his son into his arms.   “Connor, hey stay with me!”

    “01001001 00100111 01101101 00100000 00100000 01110011 01101111 01110010 01110010 01111001 00100000 01001000 01100001 01101110 01101011 00100000” Connor  said in a glitching tone. Severe damage to majority of his systems, Hank shook him.

“01000100 01101111 01101110 00100111 01110100 00100000 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110100 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101”   Rasped the android before going still.

    “I'm sorry, I am sorry.” Hank muttered.

[soyouthinkyoucadance-blog]

Know your RP-Partners KNOWING YOUR PARTNER CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. REPOST, DON’T REBLOG. name: Lilac Vrt Olligoci nickname: Lil zodiac sign: Capricorn height: 5′4 orientation: Asexual, Questioning Romantic ethnicity: Caucasian favourite fruit: Cranberry

favourite season: Spring

favourite book: Warriors Cats, Any Doctor Who Novels, Molly Moon...

favourite flower: Lilacs. :P

favourite scent: That wet smell before and after a thunderstorm

favourite animal: Spiders

coffee, tea, or hot cocoa?: Tea

average hours of sleep:  8

cats or dogs?:  Cats, I even have one

favourite fictional character: There’s... too many of them! I’ll just go with my current top fave which is Cadence

when was your blog created?: Uhhh... earlier this year for this one. Been here since 2012 though

what do you post about?:  My main has shitposts, this one has my RP posts and ask memes

do you get asks on a regular basis?:  I at least have to answer one every other day on quiet times so I guess I do get some asks.

aesthetic: Purple colors, Electronic genre music, rocks and minerals, Crypt of the Necrodancer, Kirby...

favourite band/artist?:  Pendulum, Kaizer’s Orchestra, Marquis of Vaudeville...

fictional characters I’d date: I’m ace so I wouldn’t date them, and I’m not a romantic person. I tend to have a very mom-like attachment to my characters. Go ask people how I am around characters like Tempo (Megaman) or Gus (Glitched).

Hogwarts house: Hmmm, last I checked I’m Ravenclaw?

countries I’ve lived in:  France, Germany, USA

favourite fandom: Kirby and Crypt of the Necrodancer

languages you speak: Mother language is English with some French and German.

favourite film of 2017: Oh man been so busy lately I hadn’t been able to watch any!

shuffle your music library and put your first three songs here: Mastermind by Deltron 3030, Rutten by Skream, Rise of the Idiots, by Skism

last thing you bought online: Don’t Starve. Ehehe....

who would you take a bullet for?:  My best friends, of course!

tagged by stolen from: @noxportentum​

tagging: Eh, you all do this if you want to!

[gillian-ybabez]

Sleepless Knights

The Sleepless Knights are a reclusive order of warriors whose mountain fortress is known as Keep Awake. They have mastered the art of not sleeping. There are no beds within the Keep. Recruits train their first year sleeping every other night. Insomniacs do very well in the training. The following year they only sleep every third day. When they can forgo sleep indefinitely, they become Sleepless Knights. Only then is the true purpose of the order made known to them.

One knight is about to fulfill that purpose.

A knock sounds at her door in the dead of night. She rises from the chair where she has not been sleeping. The warden of the dungeon stands outside her door.

“It is time,” he says plainly.

“Are you sure?” she asks. It was only three months ago that she was knighted.

“You are ready or you would not be a knight.” He turns and leaves without another word.

The knight smooths her tunic and adjusts her sword. She considers grabbing her shield but knows it will be of no use to her for this fight. With nothing else to delay her, she sets out after the warden. He is waiting in the lowest part of the dungeon at the door that leads into the chamber the elder knights call the crypt. A knight, never a recruit, guards the door at all times. The warden pulls a key from around his neck and unlocks the door.

“The inner door is already unlocked,” he says, “Remember what you face in there is not a fellow knight. Use deadly force if necessary. The knight that proceeded you knew it might come to that. Just like you know that the knight that follows you might have to make the same choice.”

She nods. “How long has he been in there?”

“Five months. Almost a new record but don’t think you have to try to match that. Most only last a month or two at the most.”

“Ok, open it up.” The warden heaves the door open revealing a short passage way to a second door. The guard hands her a torch. Once inside the door is closed behind her. She pushes open the inner door and enters the crypt. It is a large room lit by white flames from empty oil lamps, with tattered banners on the walls, and a threadbare rug leading to a raised throne. On the throne a man in Sleepless Knight clothing, much like her own, sat with a gleaming crown upon his head. As she begins to ascend the steps to the throne his eyes open glowing with the same white flame illuminating the room.

“You’ve come for something haven’t you?” His voice is quiet but rattles her eardrums.

“Yes, I’ve come to release you from your duty.” She grips her sword but does not draw it, yet.

“My duty?” He looks at his hands and then around the room. “Where am I? I was sleeping but then I woke up.” The knight closes the distance to stand on the same level as the crowned man while he seems confused. He stands to face her. “Who are you?” He is still partially asleep and thus unaware of the power he could wield against her.

If he was aware of that power, then her duty would be a fast and deadly strike. But he is not, so the knight drives her fist into his chest, just below his breastbone. There is a moment of shock, a gasp for air with lungs that will not fill, then he folds over and rolls down the steps. As he falls, she takes hold of the crown and it slips from his head. The lights fade. For a moment, she considers just leaving the crown alone in the room. Then she hears it. Whispers of power, strength, of anything she could ever want. And she knows she can not leave it for anyone to find. She must do her duty.

She raises the crown over her head and lowers it unto her head. At first, she feels nothing except the cold metal, then a heat within her ignites. The truth of reality opens to her mind like a flower. A fountain of power wells up inside her body and mind. She could be a Queen, no a Goddess, with this power. The former crown bearer has recovered his feet and stands at the base of the throne staring up at her. With a flick of her wrist he is pushed out of the chamber, the inner door closes and locks.

Immeasurable power awaits her command. What will you do? What will you create? What will you destroy? It seems to whisper in her mind. She sits on the throne, one hand supporting her head, and falls asleep.

There are many things a person could desire: wealth, vengeance, justice, peace, war; but a Sleepless Knight’s first desire will always be a deep, dreamless sleep. As long as the wearer of the crown sleeps, its power is contained. This is the purpose of the Sleepless Knights.

Sleepless Knights was also posted on my website, Gillian's Notebook, home of my writing. Help support my writing by becoming a patron. Reblogs help to spread my writing to new readers.

[ask-de-writer]

A BONNIE DAY : MLP Fan Fiction : Tales to read AFTER the Lights are OUT!

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A BONNIE DAY

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

982 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/23/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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Junea laid her mostly skeletal head on the dried stiff skin of Zom's shoulder as she followed their foster filly, Bonnie with eyes that, though sunken allowed her to see past the crypt's door.

“Zom, stillness of my heart, it worries me when our dear Bonnie Bones goes out under Celestia's sun.”

“I share your concern, Junea, breath of my death.  She is not so alone as you fear.  Celestia may be high in the sky but she shares it with the Nightmare.  The Moon is out also to watch over our mortal child.”

Admiring Bonnie's spirit, that had her out under such adverse conditions just so that she could graze the grass smooth and level over the grave of her friend as a surprise when he arose after the night had fallen, the pair watched her with some concern.  It was always possible that some well meaning mortal might try to steal away the nearly grown filly that they loved and had raised.

They need not have worried.  The cloud white filly with her black mane and tail looked up from her task.  Her eyes narrowed and she gave a near silent snort of anger.  With no sound at all, she floated up, ghost-like and took a place in a tree overlooking the graves, tombs and crypts of her family and friends.

They came all too soon.  They were watching all around them, every direction but up.  Morgripe and his two buddies, who had tried before to vandalize the graveyard were back, with pry bars, hammers and a small bucket of red paint.

They were chatting among themselves cheerfully. “Should'a thought of this before!  Come in daylight, day before Nightmare Night!”  “They ain't gonna find out what we done until tomorrow, if then!” “They'll think it was done at night!  All we gotta do is be with other ponies all night!  It is perfect!”

Bonnie had heard and seen enough.  Using the stealth that she had learned from the many ghosts of the Ponyville graveyard, she floated out of her tree.  Being mindful that Celestia's treacherous sun could cast a shadow that would give her away, she chose her position with care and simply dropped!

She added the power of straightening her forelegs to the strong double buck that lifted Morgripe off his hooves and face planted him in the grass!  His paint splashed all over him as his hammer and pry went flying their separate ways!

As her hindquarters landed from kicking Morgripe, she reared and struck with both forehooves at the neck to shoulder joint of his nearest accomplice!  Her strike drove him from his hooves too!  

The third pony simply ran!  The terrified yellow pony left meadow muffins in his wake as he streaked for the gate!

Morgripe was trying to rise, so she casually hoof struck his side, rolling him belly up.  She gave his remaining accomplice a steely eye as he got to his hooves.  He reached for his fallen tools and she silently shook her head no.

Shivering, he left.  Bonnie leaned down to the fallen Morgripe and hissed in his ear, “This is the fourth time that you have tried to disturb this graveyard.  This is your last time!  No pony will ever find you or any trace of you.”

He looked up and saw no trace of mercy or pity in her eyes.  Shivering, he quaked, “What are you going to do to me?”  His eyes caught the back wall of the cemetery and he whined, “What happened to the wall?  It is all tumble down and growed with moss.”

Bonnie glared at him.  “You are going to a Nightmare party.  The wall between the waking world and the border of Nightmare is now down.”

Just then, a lovely gray mare's head lifted over the tumbled stone of the wall.  “You called, Bonnie?” she asked.

“Yes, Flowering Ash, I did.  This was it's fourth time trying to desecrate those who rest under Celestia's sun.  I thought that you might want it for refreshments at the party.”

“How thoughtful of you, dear.  Are you coming, this year?”

“I am.  Reverend Smallflower gave me some toys and games for the Forgotten Foals.  Do you have refreshments for me?”

As the lamia's huge serpent's body slithered over the wall, she replied, “With Canbe living among us, yes, Bonnie dear.  There is plenty for for mortals too.”

Morgripe's eyes bugged out as he saw Flowering Ash, a lovely mare back to the end of her ribs and enormous serpent from there on back.  He drew in a breath to scream.

Flowering Ash punched his belly, driving the wind from him.  She locked a strong foreleg about his neck and cast a coil about his body and slithered back across the wall.

Bonnie quietly gathered up the fallen tools and retired to the crypt that she shared with the liches Zom and Junea.  Soon the authorities arrived.  They did find the splash of red paint that the two miscreants had described, but that was all.  They looked about in a reasonably careful way but found no sign of the missing Morgripe. They did not really look too hard.  Nobody really cared much for him. Always in trouble of some sort.  If he really was gone, good riddance.

Shortly after the police ponies left, a spare white pegasus wearing a flat black hat knocked politely at the door to Zom and Junea's crypt. Bonnie poked her head out through the still sealed panels of the door.

“Reverend Smallflower!  Are you coming to Nightmare Night with us?”

He ducked his head.  “I am indeed.  I have brought a few more refreshments for us of a mortal persuasion.  Shall we go?”

Together, they stepped across the fallen wall to the borderlands of Nightmare to celebrate with their friends, the Ancient Ones and the Forgotten Foals.

~THE END~

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