#setting brushfires

[asmoteeth]

More sillies for @sphnyspinspin

! NOT PERMITTED TO SELL OR COMMERCIALIZE !

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Hey, hey, hey! Art coming your way!

If you’ve followed my other blog for a while you might recognize a couple of these characters. The height charts were mainly for helping me get the basic layout for each character’s design and I am absolutely proud about how each and every one of them turned out🥰🥰🥰

[sphnyspinspin]

An itty bitty draft for my TF fan-continuity.

Transformers: Bold, Bright, and Brisk

(AKA The Brisk Continuity)

super catchy, I know…

On the TF Wiki for RBA Hotshot, it actually said he’s a Wrecker, and in the beginning, I was going to make Whirl a Wrecker and Hotshot an Autobot(I know the factions aren’t too different but it’s for the narrative I promise) and then I was like, what if I just did a switcheroo, and make Whirl the Autobot. Because since Hotshot is actually a Wrecker, it would just make him and Heatwave connect more in a father-son kinda way, ya know.

Also meaning Hotshot became a very famous athlete, a cube athlete nonetheless, while having a Wrecker background, which some would label as uncoordinated brutes who are only good for construction. Hotshot showed them what for. Especially by earning a scholarship after one of the most important cube games. A scholarship to a school that was founded by the Optimus Prime. With Hotshot’s popularity and experienced athleticism along with being part of a team, made him a perfect candidate to get the school more recognition, as a bonus of course. He also may or may not try to start a school cube team while he’s there as well.

Wedge is a Decepticon, obviously, and I feel like Wedge being the first, and probably the only, Decepticon Rescue Bot, he would want to be able to prove to himself and to others that he can be a great hero just like anyone else, despite having a delinquent background. He just doesn’t want to hide it this time, since he would absolutely want to inspire others who are just like him. By winning that contest that took - flexibility, strength, intelligence, and durability - he absolutely crushed it and won a full scholarship to the Academy. But, that came with the cost of the school not getting many new students, due to many not feeling too happy about a school built by Optimus Prime letting in a former trouble-maker Decepticon, which is practically just dancing on the Prime’s grave.

Having amazing test scores, an astonishing acrobatic skill set, and an indistinguishable sense of justice, Whirl is one of the most gifted students on Cybertron. Although, as much as Whirl is smart and strong she can be just as much as an eccentric wild card. Which is what most deem as, too unprofessional for such a distinguished profession such as a peacekeeper. Whirl has picked up on how most people treat her from just plainly patronizing her, to putting her up on this pedestal, to where she would be pressured to set a more proper example. And when she finally got off that pedestal is when her application to Rescue Bots Academy was finally excepted.

Being an engineer who helped repair many of the finest Sigmas for many bots was no easy task. Not to mention being a Dinobot engineer while also being scared of Dinobots. Well, Hoist isn’t necessarily scared of Dinobots, just the loud roaring, giant claws, sharp fangs, and not to mention he’s practically the runt of the litter compared to his cousins, so he could easily get squished. He has no sharp appendages or a loud roar, yet he is one of the most insightful engineers in the business. Creating advanced tools, easily repairing generators, and even creating an automated cleaning droid to help with the mess. His family immediately took notice, and they were all able to save up enough units to finally get him to where he can properly flourish his creativity.

He’s one of the stranger inhabitants of Wreck-Gar’s homeworld. Despite living in a so called dump, Medix is one of the more tidier bots who has had a strange fascination with cataloguing. Though he is one of the youngest bots within the community, he is very independent when trading supplies with pirates and handling the more unsettling creatures of the planet. Everybody knows that Junkions are practically indestructible, but it still doesn’t hurt any less when having your arm ripped off or being bitten by something venomous - that’s where Medix comes in. Until one day, an old bot who goes by Ratchet, came across the young medic who’s made a name for himself. The leader of the Junkions Wreck-Gar decided himself that the best course of action to establish stronger ties with Cybertron was to let Medix be taken underneath the renowned doctor’s servo. Very against the idea at first - the reclusive - Medix reluctantly accepted the mentorship, only under the condition that he gets to visit the zoo on the way to the academy.

:HOTSHOT OF CRYSTAL CITY:

Former Occupation) Professional Cube Athlete

Academic Occupation) Firefighter

Faction) Wrecker

Alt) ATV

:WEDGE OF STANIX:

Former Occupation) Hardwire Specialist

Academic Occupation) Architect

Faction) Decepticon

Alt) Bulldozer

:WHIRL OF CYBERTROPOLIS:

Former Occupation) Crossing Gaurd

Academic Occupation) Police Officer

Faction) Autobot

Alt) Helicopter

:HOIST OF YUSS:

Former Occupation) Sigma Repairman

Academic Occupation) Engineer

Faction) Dinobot

Alt) Tyrannosaurus Rex

:MEDIX OF JUNKION:

Former Occupation) Practioner

Academic Occupation) Field Medic

Faction) Junkion

Alt) Ambulance

***

This also is definitely an excuse to sort of smoosh together TF Cyberverse and TF Prime and TF Rescue Bots Academy because it’s been a dream of mine since of late 2022. I am so excited to start learning about these factions and how they could affect each of kids’ lives before the academy.

Disclaimer, these all take place like a Vorn(83 cyber-years) after the war. And both Optimus Prime and Megatron are DEAD. PERIODT. Optimus died by doing something like he did in Predacon’s Rising by jumping in the well to revive Cybertron. Megatron is going to be based way more off of Cyberverse Megs, I don’t feel too bad about cutting him out, and he was killed by Starscream. No I’m not elaborating, this is still a draft.

I already shared like a lot, so I don’t want to over analyze everything I came up with. Cause if I did I would’ve blown your minds and my mind as well. But I still loved doing all this random research on factions and cities, I want to know so much more about this stuff and rant about it forever and ever.

Wanna give me an excuse to rant? Go ahead. But not like right after I post it, maybe wait a couple hours or maybe a day, because I will be passing out after posting this…

Look what I made!! @novafire-is-thinking @asmoteeth @sonia-aquamarineson @sonicnerd @geluatekurama @heatblades @magically-maddie

[oldtvlover]

Hey E! Gang,

now a whole episode Gif set, though not completely as you can see.

The whole discussion about Roy and his guest starring in a TV show with his wife. Aw man, though there are still good questions coming from Johnny. Some scenes were just good.

And in the last one we have Captain ‘Dad’ Stanley at his best again. Concerned about his men. And Roy and Johnny look good muddy. lol

[nightmyst14-blog]

Regaining Treasures Part 5

Setting: Bunt Cheese has been moved to the medical bay, watched over by servants and the royal family. A few days later, they received good news.*

Pure Vanilla; *running into the throne room* He’s awake!!

Golden Cheese; *looks up from playing cards with Dark Cacao, gasps* Is he??

Pure Vanilla: *nods* Go and take a look.

Golden Cheese; * *spreads her wings and flies to the medical bay.* *rushes inside, and sees Burnt Cheese sitting up, petting the jackal on his lap*

Burnt Cheese: *blinks a few times, looking up* Ah.. Your….Your R-Radiance.. 

Golden Cheese; *stunned, staring* ….

Burnt Cheese: *bows his head, looking sad.* F-forgive me , my queen. For I failed in guarding our sacred gates from intruders. Any punishment you wish to place upon me, I will-

Golden Cheese: *flies over to him, hugs him tight* My baby!! *cries* My little moon, you’re back!!!

Burnt Cheese: *shocked, looking at her.* Ah- You’re not…

*Mozzarella and Smoked Cheese scramble into the room, Smoked Cheese pushing his sister’s wheelchair while hobbling behind it*

Golden Cheese: I missed you so much.. I’m so sorry, my baby!! You were the first to fall,  and I wasn't there!!!

Burnt Cheese: *shocked* I.. I am just your gatekeeper, I was just-

Golden Cheese: *cups his face* You work so hard to protect my kingdom, you forget yourself. Look at you, you can barely move your limbs..

Burnt Cheese: I-I will recover, your Radiance… The gates still need guarding…

Golden Cheese: Ugh, listen to me! I just-

Smoked Cheese: *interrupts* PRINCE Burnt Cheese Cookie ! Just SHUT UP!

Burnt Cheese: *looks over, his jackal ears laying flat against his head as he growls.*You dont get to-

Smoked Cheese; NO! Let me finish! *He flaps his stiff wings*

Burnt Cheese; *glares* ……

Smoked Cheese: Look here, you idiot. I'm the LAST person to say it, but LISTEN to her as our MOTHER, not as our queen! We thought we LOST you. As if you couldn't be brought back!

Burnt Cheese: Well.. I  failed in my task to guard the gates. I dont think she should have-

Smoked Cheese: No shut up! *grunts* Before being the Gatekeeper, you are our brother, her SON. The second prince of the kingdom! My baby brother! You didn't think we felt the same! YOU DIDN'T DESERVE TO DIE FIRST IN THAT ATTACK!

*the room fell silent, beside hearing the other ancients footsteps coming to the room.*

Burnt Cheese: *looks away, quiet.*

Smoked Cheese: *shaky sigh.* Despite everything… Despite our constant fighting.. You didnt think it HURT to see you all??? When your skull was beaten in?? When your mask cracked to reveal jam spilling from your head?? I was TOO late to save you!

Burnt Cheese: ….

Mozzarella: *worried* Smokey….

Golden Cheese: Birdie…

Smoked Cheese: I.. I couldn't save you.. *dips his head low* So I did all I could to save our sister… yet that failed.. They were too strong..

Golden Cheese:  That is not your fault, Smokey.. They swept down on you all so quick as a brushfire..

Mozzarella; *Nods* Even my best-made defenses couldn't work..

Burnt Cheese; *frowns, looks down at his hands and body all bandaged in places.* I still failed you all… It was my duty to guard the gates..

Golden Cheese; I don't care about that! *Hugs Burnt Cheese tight* 

Burnt Cheese: *grunts a bit in pain, looks at her* You radian- AH.. I mean, M-Mother..

Golden Cheese; *sniffles* M-My little moon forgive me.. You were closest to touching the outside world from our kingdom.. Yet you were chained to your post… unable to move.. It kept you from running.. I'm so sorry…

Burnt Cheese; *frowns, silent tears run down his face as he rests his chin on Golden Cheese’s hair, doing his best to hug her.*

Smoked Cheese: *sighs a bit, smiles. He gently rubs Golden Cheese's back.*

Mozzarella: *smiles* I missed you guys...

Golden Cheese: *Reaches for them* Come here you two. I .. I just.. Let me hold you three.

Smoked Cheese: *Helps Mozzarella over to Burnt Cheese's side, but he and Mozzarella join the hug.*

Golden Cheese: * wraps her wings around all three, cries tears of joy.* My babies.. My little treasures…

Burnt Cheese, Smoked Cheese, and Mozzarella: *hugs her tight, soon weeping themselves*

Golden Cheese: *smiles, sniffles* … all back.. All here… I won't let go of you three again..

*Pure Vanilla and the others watch this scene with tear-filled happiness, letting the little family to rest and regroup. The Golden Sovereign was dimmed for a moment, now it was just Golden Cheese and her little ones, all back together.*

Olive: * gently knocks, peeks in while carrying Fettuccine:* ..May we come in?

Fettuccine: Faba!!

Burnt Cheese: *looks* Little Mummy.. Youre alright...

Olive: She was waiting for you to wake up. *sets Fettuccine down.*

Fettuccine: *waddles out, climbs up into his arms.* Faba…

Burnt Cheese: *Smiles, kissing her head,* Missed you too, my little mummy…

Smoked Cheese: Wait, so Im an uncle?

Mozzarella: *giggles* You didnt know??

Smoked Cheese: No! I barely left the royal quarters! Being advisor is a lot of work you know!!

Burnt Cheese: Hush Smokey.. My head still hurts..

Golden Cheese: *laughs* Already back your antics aren't you? But.. things are going to change around here.

Burnt Cheese: Huh"

Mozzarella: What do you mean, Mother?

Golden Cheese; Well, Our abundant kingdom is still in need of repair and there are many citizens I must help to reawaken... So, I'm establishing trade between the other kingdoms, BUT..

Smoked Cheese: But?

Mozzarella: What is it?

Golden Cheese: I want you three to be the ambassadors for it, traveling to the other regions to spread out the tales of the Golden Sovereign!

Smoked Cheese; W-What..?

Mozzarella: We get to explore.. outside the kingdom??

Pure Vanilla; Yes. Your mother was talking about it with rest of us. THe other ancients and I think this a wonderful idea.

Golden Cheese: Its about time I let you three spread your wings and explore.. O-Only when you all are FULLY HEALED!! Not before then!!

Burnt Cheese, Smoked Cheese, and Mozzarella: *laughs*

Mozzarella: As you wish, mother.

Smoked Cheese; I always want to see the snow of the Dark Cacao Kingdom.

Mozzarella: Ooh! Finally! I get to visit Hollyberry kingdom and try their delicaicies..

Burnt Cheese: it will be odd to leave my post for the first time.... But I suppose I could try..

Golden Cheese: *smiles* Of course, my treasures..

Hope you guys enjoyed the main story of Regaining Treasures!

I plan to make a minisode and a BONUS thing for this. Nevertheless I hope you enjoyed this story!

[sabotsen]

Afterglow

Pairing: Noan x (gn!) Commandant / Reader

Notes: Set shortly after Noan’s affection story 6; word count 1.3k

Warnings: Subtle possessiveness

A fluke. 

Fate disguised as a coincidence. 

Isn’t that how it always goes in hero stories? 

A chance encounter that alters the alignment of stars and rewrites destiny for the better, with hope woven into every word and touch. 

But this is not a hero’s story, and fate has never been kind to him. 

It is not a moment of joy, with warm smiles and gentle laughter in the company of friends. It is not a moment of anticipation, spirits soaring high before the oncoming fight. This moment — quiet and peaceful — has been won only after the blood of comrades has stained your hands beyond recognition and their corpses paved the way to the top of this hill upon which you weather every storm. 

But even so…

Despite it all, he is grateful. 

How could he not be, with your head on his shoulder? 

Your breathing is slow and steady, his cloak a poor cushion against the hard, unyielding metal of his frame. Yet now and then, you drowsily nuzzle against his shoulder and almost seem to burrow into the worn folds of the fabric before settling once more against him. It’s enough to trigger an itch in his wires, a slow rolling brushfire that sweeps across him — quiet, without flare or noise. More than once he has brushed the hair from your eyes, his fingers curling as they trace a path from behind your ear down along the curve of your jaw. 

Still you do not wake. 

Not when he calls your name or when his touch drifts across your cheek like butterfly wings, a ghost of a touch too delicate to truly be missed. Just how much have you been pushing yourself lately? It hasn’t even been three days since you returned from a month long mission down on the surface and already the shadows beneath your eyes are just as concerningly dark as the first night he kidnapped you to this blind spot in Zone Z. Do you always throw yourself so recklessly into the fray, heedless of your health? 

How does Gray Raven stand it, watching you tear yourself apart like this piece by piece? How does Simon hold his tongue every time your paths cross, despite the endless worries that flow over like rain behind the closed doors of Dark Ares? 

You nuzzle against his shoulder again, a faint furrow in your brow as the blanket draped around your shoulders slides away. Noan cannot help the small smile that pulls at his lips as he adjusts the blanket and dutifully ensures you are properly bundled. His hands hover near your cheek, an itch in his fingertips to brush against your brow and coax that furrow away. 

You trust him — foolishly, kindly — and he still cannot wrap his head around why. It’s such a heavy thing — your trust — and he has long since known cold, metallic hands cannot grasp delicate things forever. 

Would that wake you? 

Would it cross a line somewhere, somehow? 

He settles for lightly brushing the hair from your face, touch far too light and mindful, before his hand drifts down to your hands resting in your lap. Slowly, with all the careful movements of a child reaching for something forbidden in the middle of the night, he cradles your hand in his. Immediately, your warmth sinks into him, gradual and welcoming. 

Your head on his shoulder, your hand cradled in his — a fragile peace lay nestled against him. 

It feels like Spring.

It feels like home.

Delicate, like a folded paper crane. Even the slightest moment could tear and rend everything asunder. The smallest bit of rain could eat away the body. Carefully, so carefully must he act — every word and action mindful and calculating. He can’t lose this — this friend, this trust, this warmth. 

Slowly, he laces your fingers in his, marveling at the softness of your skin against the hard edges of him. You stir in your sleep, fingers curling around his hand and weakly returning his grip. 

“Commandant.” 

Your title is a whisper upon his lips, gentle like flower petals. 

“You’re scowling again.” 

His free hand brushes against your cheek, thumb tenderly swiping just under your eyes as if to wipe away tears. Beneath his light touches, you seem to relax, the faint traces of tension fading from your expression. He feels the subtle shift of your weight as you lean upon him further, like a bird burrowing into a corner of the nest. 

Warmth seeps into him, sinking beneath cold metal and bleeding beyond colored wires. Down, down, down it travels — to a vast white expanse within him, where only snow thrives. It seeps in, like springtime rain, and melts the unending snow. Noan gently tilts his head, lips brushing against the top of yours as he soaks up every bit of your warmth like a sunflower desperate for the sun. 

The empty bridge framed by the black expanse of the stars are the only witness to this moment of weakness. He knows when the timer runs out, this will all be over. He will return you to your Gray Ravens, likely carrying you upon his back much like he did before. He will return to the cafe and slip that shackle back on his wrist once more. 

“Shall we run away again?” You had asked just hours prior, the playful smile on your lips marred only by the exhaustion you could not hide. 

He didn’t tell you the response he suppressed — suffocated, really — that you need only say when and he would answer your call without fail. He did not tell you how he hid a blanket in the library on the impossible chance he could sneak you away to Zone Z again. He did not speak of the joy that flared in his chest, bright and blooming, to hear your request. 

He had merely held out his shackled wrist to you, a small smile on his lips as he had replied, “You really shouldn’t make a habit of getting kidnapped by an infamous bad guy unless you want to be lectured for hours.”

Your laughter as you disarmed his tracker still rings in his ears. A precious sound — what would it take to make you laugh more often? How often do you laugh around your Ravens? 

Noan closes his eyes as his thumb brushes over the back of your hand in his as he curls himself around you. If only there were still softer parts to him left, maybe he could be of more comfort. You’re still sleeping so soundly, but it can’t be comfortable to use him as a pillow like this. The blanket he brought couldn’t be enough — it’s not, not to him. He has to do more, be more. 

Next time, then. 

The thought freezes Noan, barely suppressing the flinch that would have squeezed your hand — he could have hurt you. Next time? Will there be a next time? Would it be alright to hope for that? To trust in that? 

Noan calls your name softly, devoid of any titles. Caution laces his tone but it is no less gentle. 

Still you do not wake. 

Soon, this peace will end and his time will run out. You will return to the frontlines and he will return to his shackles, worn weary by painful tests and experiments under watchful eyes that neither trust nor care for him. 

“It would be nice,” he murmurs into your hair, “if you called upon me like this again.” 

Silence settles and the stars in the instance still frame the otherwise dark and empty room. Noan quietly tugs the blanket tighter around you and curls himself that much closer to you, every bit a child clutching a jar of fireflies for comfort. 

The feeling of you cradled in his arms — a paper crane, a firefly — 

This is enough for now…. 

[simply-ivanka]

"It does not take a majority to prevail, but rather an irate, tireless minority, keen on setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men." -- Sam Adams

[sassenach77yle]

||COUNTDOWN || SEASON 4 EPISODE 09 || THE BIRDS & THE BEES ||

#83daysofoutlander☆

The light outside was dazzling after the taproom’s gloom. Brianna blinked, eyes tearing at the shafts of sun that stabbed through the shifting greens of a screen of maples. Then a movement caught her eye, below the flickering leaves. He stood in the shade of the maples, half turned away from her, head bent in absorption. A tall man, long-legged, lean and graceful, with his shoulders broad under a white shirt. He wore a faded kilt in pale greens and browns, casually rucked up in front as he urinated against a tree. He finished and, letting the kilt fall, turned toward the post house. He saw her then, standing there staring at him, and tensed slightly, hands half curling. Then he saw past her men’s clothes, and the look of wary suspicion changed at once to surprise as he realized that she was a woman. There was no doubt in her mind, from the first glimpse. She was at once surprised and not surprised at all; he was not quite what she had imagined—he seemed smaller, only man-sized—but his face had the lines of her own; the long, straight nose and stubborn jaw, and the slanted cat-eyes, set in a frame of solid bone. He moved toward her out of the maples’ shadow, and the sun struck his hair with a spray of copper sparks. Half consciously she raised a hand and pushed a strand of hair back from her face, seeing from the corner of her eye the matching gleam of thick red-gold. “What d’ye want here, lassie?” he asked. Sharp, but not unkind. His voice was deeper than she had imagined; the Highland burr slight but distinct. “You,” she blurted. Her heart seemed to have wedged itself in her throat; she had trouble forcing any words past it. He was close enough that she caught the faint whiff of his sweat and the fresh smell of sawn wood; there was a golden scatter of sawdust caught in the rolled sleeves of his linen shirt. His eyes narrowed with amusement as he looked her up and down, taking in her costume. One reddish eyebrow rose, and he shook his head. “Sorry, lass,” he said, with a half-smile. “I’m a marrit man.” He made to pass by, and she made a small incoherent sound, putting out a hand to stop him, but not quite daring to touch his sleeve. He stopped and looked at her more closely. “No, I meant it; I’ve a wife at home, and home’s not far,” he said, evidently wishing to be courteous. “But—” He stopped, close enough now to take in the grubbiness of her clothes, the hole in the sleeve of her coat and the tattered ends of her stock.

“Och,” he said in a different tone, and reached for the small leather purse he wore tied at his waist. “Will ye be starved, then, lass? I’ve money, if you must eat.” She could scarcely breathe. His eyes were dark blue, soft with kindness. Her eyes fixed on the open collar of his shirt, where the curly hairs showed, bleached gold against his sunburnt skin. “Are you—you’re Jamie Fraser, aren’t you?” He glanced sharply at her face. “I am,” he said. The wariness had returned to his face; his eyes narrowed against the sun. He glanced quickly behind him, toward the tavern, but nothing stirred in the open doorway. He took a step closer to her. “Who asks?” he said softly. “Have you a message for me, lass?” She felt an absurd desire to laugh welling up in her throat. Did she have a message?

“My name is Brianna,” she said.

He frowned, uncertain, and something flickered in his eyes. He knew it! He’d heard the name and it meant something to him. She swallowed hard, feeling her cheeks blaze as though they’d been seared by a candle flame.

“I’m your daughter,” she said, her voice sounding choked to her own ears.

“Brianna.” He stood stock-still, not changing expression in the slightest. He had heard her, though; he went pale, and then a deep, painful red washed up his throat and into his face, sudden as a brushfire, matching her own vivid color. She felt a deep flash of joy at the sight, a rush through her midsection that echoed that blaze of blood, recognition of their fair-skinned kinship. Did it trouble him to blush so strongly? she wondered suddenly. Had he schooled his face to immobility, as she had learned to do, to mask that telltale surge? Her own face felt stiff, but she gave him a tentative smile. He blinked, and his eyes moved at last from her face, slowly taking in her appearance, and—with what seemed to her a new and horrified awareness—her height. “My God,” he croaked. “You’re huge.” Her own blush had subsided, but now came back with a vengeance. “And whose fault is that, do you think?” she snapped. She drew herself up straight and squared her shoulders, glaring. So close, at her full height, she could look him right in the eye, and did. He jerked back, and his face did change then, mask shattering in surprise. Without it, he looked younger; underneath were shock, surprise, and a dawning expression of half-painful eagerness. “Och, no, lassie!” he exclaimed. “I didna mean it that way, at all! It’s only—” He broke off, staring at her in fascination. His hand lifted, as though despite himself, and traced the air, outlining her cheek, her jaw and neck and shoulder, afraid to touch her directly. “It’s true?” he whispered. “It is you, Brianna?” He spoke her name with a queer accent—Breeanah—and she shivered at the sound. “It’s me,” she said, a little huskily. She made another attempt at a smile. “Can’t you tell?” His mouth was wide and full-lipped, but not like hers; wider, a bolder shape, that seemed to hide a smile in the corners of it, even in repose. It was twitching now, not certain what to do. “Aye,” he said. “Aye, I can.”

He did touch her then, his fingers drawing lightly down her face, brushing back the waves of ruddy hair from temple and ear, tracing the delicate line of her jaw. She shivered again, though his touch was noticeably warm; she could feel the heat of his palm against her cheek.

“I hadna thought of you as grown,” he said, letting his hand fall reluctantly away. “I saw the pictures, but still—I had ye in my mind somehow as a wee bairn always—as my babe. I never expected …”

His voice trailed off as he stared at her, the eyes like her own, deep blue and thick-lashed, wide in fascination. “Pictures,” she said, feeling breathless with happiness. “You’ve seen pictures of me? Mama found you, didn’t she? When you said you had a wife at home—”

“Claire,” he interrupted. The wide mouth had made its decision; it split into a smile that lit his eyes like the sun in the dancing tree leaves. He grabbed her arms, tight enough to startle her. “You’ll not have seen her, then? Christ, she’ll be mad wi’ joy!” The thought of her mother was overwhelming. Her face cracked, and the tears she had been holding back for days spilled down her cheeks in a flood of relief, half choking her as she laughed and cried together.

“Here, lassie, dinna weep!” he exclaimed in alarm. He let go of her arm and snatched a large, crumpled handkerchief from his sleeve. He patted tentatively at her cheeks, looking worried. “Dinna weep, a leannan, dinna be troubled,” he murmured. “It’s all right, m’ annsachd; it’s all right.”

“I’m all right; everything’s all right. I’m just—happy,” she said. She took the handkerchief, wiped her eyes and blew her nose. “What does that mean—a leannan? And the other thing you said?”

“You’ll not have the Gaelic, then?” he asked, and shook his head. “No, of course she wouldna have been taught,” he murmured, as though to himself. “I’ll learn,” she said firmly, giving her nose a last wipe.

“A leannan?” A slight smile reappeared on his face as he looked at her. “It means ‘darling,’ ” he said softly. “M’ annsachd—my blessing.”

41 JOURNEY’S END

[artemistorm]

For the ask game: Hyrule and fire.

Here you go, I ended up writing an actual oneshot XD.

******

“—And Hyrule, your job is to stay here undercover, and at my signal, take out the monsters guarding the cage,” Warriors said, handing out battle orders.

“Got it!” Hyrule nodded.

“Ad whatever you do, don’t use fire, got it? This place is a dry as a stalfos. One spark—from any of you—and you’ll trigger a raging brushfire that’ll race towards the town and destroy the very thing we’re trying to save.”

“Yes sir!” Hyrule stood up straighter and mock-saluted, which Warriors ignored and led the rest of the heroes along the outskirts of the monster camp to be positioned in various locations in preparation for their attack.

The monsters had been kidnapping villagers from at least three different local towns and villages and forcing them to mine ore in the canyon caves. The plan was to destroy the monster camp, free the kidnapped villagers, and then raid the caves and free the slaves from the mines.

It was all very simple really, Wild and Twilight would pick off the lizal archers on the watchtowers, Four and Wind would sneakily freeze as many monsters as possible with borrowed ice rods and take them out of commission without the main horde noticing, Then Time, Warriors, and the rest would charge, the elder two taking out the dynalfos boss and the younger heroes routing the lesser monsters. Then in the ensuing chaos, Hyrule’s job was to free the prisoners and lead them away from the battle and back toward the village.

Waiting his turn to act, Hyrule crouched behind a stack of weirdly eroded boulders just uphill and downwind of the camp, drawing food in the orange dust of the desert canyonland. Mmm, fish skewers. Peaches. Deep fried rice balls. Apple nutcake. So tasty. Hyrule was starving. It was late afternoon, but Warriors wanted to get the battle done before nightfall, so they only had snacks with a plan to delay dinner until after.

Hyrule heard a commotion in the camp—shouts and squawks of surprised monsters and the yelling of Links. Hyrule climbed up the rock formation and poked his head just over the top. In the middle of the camp surrounded by lizalfos were Four and Wind! A pair of aeralfos swooped down with Twilight and Wild in their claws and dropped them in the dirt next to Four and Wind. Oh no! They had been caught!

The dynalfos roared and a third aeralfos appeared, straining to fly and carry another iron cage which it dropped over the four captured heroes, nearly crushing Twilight’s arm in the process.

A yell came from the west and Time, Warriors, Legend, and Sky charged the camp, splitting into pairs in an attempt to get to the trapped heroes from either side, but with most of the monsters in the camp still on their feet and going after the four heroes, Hyrule was more than a little concerned they all might be captured—or worse.

What to do? What to do? What should he do? Hyrule was rather small and he wasn’t very mighty, though he did have some powerful spells in his repertoire, the most powerful ones were fire-based and he wasn’t supposed to use them here.

But then again, the original plan was to thin the crowd, then cause enough chaos that he could rescue the villagers. Certainly four mighty warriors tearing through the camp was chaotic, but Hyrule had the power to cause even more chaos, divert even more attention away the captured villagers and heroes. With any luck, he could free the heroes and turn the tide of the battle in their favor.

It was time for… Maximum Chaos.

First things first, Hyrule snuck around to the cage of villagers and jumped out, startling the lone lizal guard and quickly dispatched it into a puff of smoke. He picked up the key and tossed it to the villagres reaching their hands out of the cage.

“Free yourselves and flee away from the setting sun to return to your village!” He instructed and slipped away, as quiet and unseen as a mouse.

The monsters didn’t have buildings per se, but they had erected a number of tents and shelters made of wood and cloth and old hides. Very flammable tents and shelters, ehehe.

Hyrule snuck behind one and channeling fire into his blade, he swung and sent a flaming phantom sword straight through it, setting fire to the structure. Then Hyrule bolted and ran to the next tent, chopped off the grabby claws of an aeralfos that tried to snatch him up, and he quickly set fire to the second and larger tent. It burst into flames even quicker than the first one did and Hyrule darted away.

Monsters noticed the rising flames and panicked, diverting attention away from the rest of the Chain. They rushed the larger tent and attempted to put out the flames. The dynalfos bellowed but the lizalfos and aeralfos paid no heed and instead fixated on rescuing pots and crates of provisions from the blazing tent.

Hyrule snuck up behind a lizalfos and shoved it into the flames with his shield before leaping away and out of reach of the blade of another. He skirted the edges of the camp and observed the battle. Now that the monsters attention was split, they had a much better chance. Warriors and Time kept the dynalfos busy (how much health did that thing have??) while Sky and Legend pressed inward toward the caged heroes, destroying any monster in their path.

“Hyrule!” called Warriors. Hyrule froze for a moment and turned his way. Oh no, was Wars going to yell at him for using fire? (This was hardly the time, wasn’t it?)

“More fire!” Warriors gave him a quick thumbs up before catching the blade of the dynalfos in a parry. Hyrule grinned and returned the gesture even though Warriors was too busy to see it.

Hyrule made quick work of the last three tents, then finally joined in the fray. He watched as between Legend’s power glove and Sky’s hysterical strength, the two of them lifted one end of the cage and sent it tipping over and crashing into two distracted lizalfos and a random chuchu. And with that, all the heroes and the villagers were free! A quick glance away toward the village showed Hyrule that the villagers had indeed escaped and were sprinting away from the battle and out of sight amongst the boulders and sandstone.

“Hyrule! Watched out!” Wind shouted and Hyrule looked up just in time to see an aeralfos diving towards him, its clawed feet outstretched. Suddenly the aeralfos froze solid midair. Hyrule rolled out of the way as it smashed into the ground and shattered into chunks, that poofed away a moment later.

Legend trotted up to him and helped him to his feet.

“It’s your turn to use the ice rod,” he said holding out to Hyrule. “Freeze any monster that moves and keep the fires you started from spreading into the brush. Got that?”

“Yeah!” Hyrule exclaimed and eagerly grabbed the ice rod. He’d always wanted to wield one of Legend’s elemental rods!

“Go do what you do best, go wreak some havoc!” Legend pushed him into the monster camp.

“Whoohoo!” Hyrule cheered and jumped into action.

A few minutes later, the battle was over, and the fires put out, and the Chain regrouped in the middle of the now-empty camp.

“Well that didn’t go according to plan,” Warriors acknowledged. ��It was messy and chaotic, but it got the job done. The monsters are defeated and the villagers freed and there aren’t any major injuries.”

“All thanks to this little gremlin!” Legend said and ruffled Hyrule’s hair.

“Even though you used fire when I specifically told you not to, your quick thinking saved the day and prevented this battle from turning disastrous,” Warriors said.

“And for that, you get the first of the spoils!” Wild called from the burned-out ruins of what had been the monster camp’s food storage. He tossed a roasted bird leg to Hyrule who had to jump to catch it.

“Mmm! Dinner! It’s about time!” Hyrule cheered and took a bite. “Tasty!”

“Alright, alright, we can all have something to eat, and then we’ll head out for the mines in fifteen minutes,” Warriors relented. “Go enjoy the spoils of victory.”

“Ehehehe, maximum chaos for the win!” Hyrule laughed.

[scifimagpie]

Writeblr intro

Last Updated: Mar 2024 So, I realised I hadn't actually written one of these, and I had to fix it!

Name: Magpie, or Shelle, or Michelle.

Pronouns: she/her or xe/xer/xis.

Who: both a writer and an editor!

The Writing: I’ve been publishing since 2011, and I have a bunch of free and paid anthologies I’ve organized, but these are my most important/favourite works.

Except for The Meaning Wars series, all of my books are set in Canada!  

The Meaning Wars (complete; And The Stars Will Sing, The Stolen: Two Short Stories, The Meaning Wars, Poe’s Outlaws, A Jade’s Trick, The Meaning Wars Complete Omnibus)

Similar to: Becky Chambers’ A Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet and Ruthanna Emrys’ A Half-Built Garden

Vibes: Space opera! Found family! Mature (30s) protagonists! Best friends! Sapphic and queer m/f romance elements! Friendly space raptors! Space pirates! A beach episode! Antifascism! Colonization (and inequality issues)! Fighting stuff with democracy and direct action!  

The Underlighters (Book 1 of The Nightmare Cycle; Book 2, Monsters and Fools, is complete and in edits. Book 3, The Foundling City, is a current WIP!)

Similar to: Jean DuPrau’s The City of Ember, Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere, the Fallout series

Vibes: Coming of age/new adult themes. Spooky monsters. Post-apocalyptic. The importance and warmth of community. Friendship. Struggling with teen problems. Polyamory. Nightmares. Mental health issues. Trauma. Hope. Recycling.

After The Garden (Book 1 of the Memory Bearers Saga; Book 2, Within the Tempest, is also one of my WIPs)

Similar to: Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake, The Wachowski sisters’ Sense-8, the Fallout series

Vibes: Found family. Gentle romance. Polyamory (m/f/m). Superpowers without superheroes. Sinister cults and religious extremism. Reincarnation. An alternate future. Adorable giant spiders. Silk-weaving and fiber arts. Post-collapse societal reorganization and politics.

The Loved, The Lost, The Dreaming: A Horror Anthology includes an alternate-ending version of The Underlighters, the novella A Shot of Vodka, and a dozen or so genre-crossing short stories. All of them have spooky elements.

Similar to: Neil Gaiman’s Smoke and Mirrors, Roald Dahl’s Skin and Other Stories (this is not an endorsement of antisemite Roald Dahl; I am antifascist)

Vibes: Underground living. Spooky dolls. Abandoned houses. Queerness. Sinister fey. Nightmares. Lovecraftian eeriness. Here be monsters.

Bad Things That Happen To Girls (Book 1 of the Memory Bearers Saga; Book 2, Within the Tempest, is also one of my WIPs) Possibly my most underrated work, this New Adultish story is a standalone novella about trauma and what happens when life breaks down.

Similar to: Emily Danforth’sThe Miseducation of Cameron Post and Miriam Toews’ A Complicated Kindness

Vibes: Broken family. Abusive mother. Being queer in a small city. Religious trauma. Forbidden cross-cultural love. Teen heartbreak. Coming-of-age. Sisters.

The Hell series (Unpublished WIPs; Dark as Hell, Uncharted Hell, Hope in Hell)

Similar to: Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag, Andrej Sapkowski’s The Witcher series

Vibes: Grumpy/sunshine romance! Mature protagonists! Queer f/m romance! Thriller elements! Immortal pirate! Marxist/anti-billionaire politics—with a billionaire protag! Lovecraftian ocean horror! Historical fantasy elements! Lots and lots of boat stuff!

Prairie Weather Trilogy (Unpublished but complete, in submission; Chinook Phase, Tornado Warning, Brushfire)

Similar to: Douglas Couplands’ Jpod,Nick Sagan’s Idlewild trilogy (without the sci fi stuff), Love Actually, Heartstoppers

Vibes: Aggressively Canadian! Found family! Cozy academia! University! Set in the early 2010s! Queer romance! Ensemble cast! Aggressively queer, diverse, and inclusive! Coming-of-Age/New Adult issues! Friendship! Drama! Sex work-positivity!             

The Editing: I've been a professional freelance editor since 2013, with Top-Rated status on Upwork (a freelancing website) and several hundred books under my belt. (I don't know how many things I've worked on at this point. I've lost count!) Primarily into sci fi, fantasy, horror, and literature (and associated subgenres); enthusiastic about #ownvoices and all kinds of diversity/marginalised representation in fiction.

You don’t have to go through Upwork unless you want to; DM me if you’re looking for an editor who’s knowledgeable, enthusiastic, and gentle. I’m also budget-friendly!

Age: in my 30s.

Queer?: yes. Also poly! Happily married to two people; also have a girlfriend. Not looking for more partners.

Disabled?: yes.

Languages: English mostly, but some conversational Spanish (rusty), scraps of French, tiny bits of German and Irish. All my writing is in English, though.

Location: Southern Alberta, Canada. (Texas + Kansas + Colorado = Alberta, more or less.)

Other hobbies: Knitting, making jewelry, playing Dungeons and Dragons (and other tabletop games), singing, reading (obviously), learning stuff; playing cello, clarinet, and violin

Interests: Jewelry, gems, metalworking, fiber arts, queer issues and social justice, environmentalism, drinking quite a lot of tea (usually black; I like an assam, Ceylon, or breakfast blends, though Golden Snail absolutely slaps when I’m in the mood for it, and I love Earl Grey Cream as well)

Other internet profiles: *Website * Mailing list * Magpie Editing * Amazon * Tumblr * Mastodon *Facebook * Medium * Twitter  * OG Blog* Instagram * Paypal.me * Ko-fi

[carnalapples]

💯📚!!

Thank you Rowan!! From these fic rec asks:

💯 a fic that makes you think #writergoals

OH, so many, but the first that comes to mind is Brushfire by elo_elo (@junkbabelna); it's a modern AU of DA, Cullen/Trevelyan done so, so well. I really love all their fics, but this one is very cozy and has amazing atmosphere, themes of healing and recovery, and I love the ways nods to canon are worked into to the setting.

On another note, for the Hunger Games, I love The Baker's Son by misshoneywell (@badnovels). I wish I could reread this for the first time; she writes horror/dark fic so well, all her fics haunt me in the best way!! I aspire to have this much of an impact on other readers.

📚 a fic you want to display on your bookshelf

This is a Downton Abbey fic, White Birds by lilabut; I have this saved to my kindle which is comparable?? I've reread it so much, I really think the author took so much of the potential of this storyline and the setting and brought it to life in a way the show never reached for me. Also it's just so comforting, like flawed family dynamics are everything to me.

Side note: the grown-ups by arbitrarily (@widespindriftgaze); this is the Mad Men fic that made me insane, I have never watched Mad Men but fics like this make me want to immediately, those feelings of longing and want and unsatisfaction that just come from a period of transition in life are all captured here so well!!!

[philosophicalconservatism]

"It does not take a majority to prevail… but rather an irate, tireless minority, keen on setting brushfires of freedom in the minds of men."

Samuel Adams (1722-1803) American statesman and founding father.

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

[ MASTERPOST ]

>> Be mindful that this will be forever under construction and continuously updated <<

PLOT OVERVIEW

The Autobot versus Decepticon War has been over for a really long time now. But as it turns out, post-war era isn’t as peaceful as some hoped it would be. Everything’s better than it ever was back on Cybertron after it was rebuilt with a much more reliable council being set in place, though there are still a few problems here and there.

Especially on the small planet Earth, where things get more difficult for certain groups of bots who maintain very different types of peace on the planet.

There’s the Rescue Bot Training Center over on the Mainland of America, where students are being trained to become the newer generation of Rescue Bots. Continuing their massive feats in helping Earth’s locals from being in danger of freak accidents to natural disasters.

And in a Vintage Salvage Depot for the Discriminating Nostalgist, lies the headquarters of a Cybertronian team of misfit law enforcers. Who are tasked with bringing a gang of criminal Decepticons—who’ve been making themselves comfortable on Earth—to justice.

ROLL CALL RESCUE RECRUITS OVERVIEW

At the Rescue Bots Training Center, a new class of recruits—Brushfire, Scorch, Slash, Prince, and Laserbeak—are there to follow in the senior class’s footsteps, to become Rescue Bots for varying different reasons than to just become heroes for the sake of helping others.

[ Rescue Recruits | Rescue Professors | Community Acquaintances | Adversary Individuals ]

REACH OUT TO REASSEMBLE OVERVIEW

When the infamous Steeljaw is still running rampant on Earth with his new, and albeit larger, pack of criminal Decepticons, the Bee Team needs all the help they can get. But the more the Bee Team expands its forces, the more others feel the need to appear as more of an outlier than others. Especially their one and only Officer Strongarm. Ever since Captain Bumblebee started taking on more roles outside of the Bee Team and placed Lieutenant Smokescreen of all bots in charge of them when he was away, the more Strongarm felt the need to take on more difficult cases to prove herself. So by doing that, she was able to strike a deal with the indebted Decepticon Sharpclaw—who takes advantage of Strongarm’s willingness to give her anything in exchange for her cooperation in upcoming investigations.

[ Bee Team | Steeljaw’s Pack | Bee Team Allies | Phantomjaw’s IOUs ]

[ RULES ]

| No Role-playing please, I’d like to do my best to maintain the non-fourth-wall-breaking immersion I have set

| No bigotry or hate speech of any kind, and be respectful of both me and other people browsing the blog

| No NSFW or 18+ content or engagement with me or the posts on this blog

| No reposting art or content in general without my permission or acknowledgment

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

What if someone asked me out on a date, huh? What if, and I'm not saying this SHOULD happen, but what IF a lady with a smile like brushfires and a voice like the river delta held my hand and played with her hair and told me she thought I had such a pretty mouth and she could kiss me for lifetimes if the world stopped for us? What if when I made her cum she smelled like creosote and Basin Pine, and for just a moment I felt utterly at peace between her legs? What if we watched the stars together and told each other stories of the new constellations we saw? What if her hands felt rough and her grasp firm on my skin and I whispered my prayers into the hollow her throat as we lay together along the old creek that finally ran dry? What if we were an oaisis for each other in the desert heat of our life works? What if our last kiss was at o'dark thirty while the september lightning sets fire to the sagebrush and bursts the redwood cones that will feed on our bones when we've finished with them?

What if you saw me, and I saw you, and for a hair's breadth of history, there was nothing else on earth that mattered?

[verodoodles]

Hello, PLEASE read! ⬇️❤️

This month has been a bit of a roller coaster for me, but before I get into it, I want to thank everyone who’s ordered from my shop so far this year. Your support has allowed me to get back some sense of independence and has helped me support myself and feed my kitties Harvey, Haru and Skitty.

Thank you SO much! 💖

Now to the sale:

Over this last weekend, we experienced some super smokey air quality (due to three nearby brushfires) and in the evening time I noticed Skitty breathing a little harder than usual. Seeing him struggle was extremely alarming and scary. It was clear to me that it had to do with the smoke. Upon some research, we believe he actually might have kitty asthma 😞. Thankfully we have an air purifier but we also set up a humidifier and that seems to have helped him some but clearly we’re getting him checked out asap - UPDATE: at 3:15pm Today!

Thankfully I have enough funds to get him to our vet (I’m making an appointment as soon as they open!) but I don’t know what to expect beyond that.😥

So I’m holding a 20% off sale on my website this week, all the way up to my birthday on the 25th. I had initially planned to buy myself some new glasses, but Skitty’s health comes first.

Use the promo code: ILUVSKITTY at checkout to get 20% off! In addition, S&H is free in the US since I typically work that into the price. So it’s a great deal if you’ve been wanting to get some art by me! I have a lot of originals up for sale so I hope you find something you like.

If you’ve read to this point, THANK YOU so much. 🙏

This month is very bittersweet, as it’s my birthday month (the 25th) but also the same month I lost my oldest brother four years ago (the 19th). I’m trying my best to get by but now with Skitty having issues, I’m just not doing the best at the moment. It would mean so much to get shares on this!

Thank you.❤️

[heartofmuse]

The heat spreads as the memory of you sets a brushfire across my skin. You race through me, undeniably, absolutely, a conflagration that burns everything in its path, nothing in its wake it does not touch. I am yours, your heat becoming a part of me, soaking into my earth, making my heart fertile once more.

e.v.e.