#shall i animate her one day? perhaps

[asp3nn]

more siren penelope bc i really like suffering and i like her and shes altering my brain chemistry for no good reason

[neil-gaiman]

Will you read this? Eh, perhaps. You're a busy man with quite a lot of asks. But there is a very human part of me that wants to say my piece because I owe you quite a bit of thanks. And I shall express this thanks with a story of my first words.

When I was 2, approaching 3, years old my parents were worried I'd never speak. The child therapist we went to - quite an old bat if you ask me, considering the stories I've heard, but what do I know I was 2 - had told them to ever give up hope of hearing my voice.

On the way back from the appointment, my Godmother - the driver of the car used to take me to the doctor - stopped by a small bookshop and took me inside so my mother could weep appropriately out of line of her child. We went inside and she told me to look around for a book for myself. She knew I loved books - wasn't sure if I was reading them or not, but knew that I at least liked looking at them and wanted to keep me occupied.

I apparently stumbled around for a while, grabbed one small book off the shelf and plopped my little arse right down and started flipping through. About fifteen minutes go by - and my mother has thoroughly cried herself dry - and my Godmother comes up to me and scoops me up with the book.

I - being the obstinate two year old that I am - refuse to let go of said book and it's only about 50 American cents so she simply buys me the book.

For the next few weeks I only carry around the book. I do not touch any of my other toys or stuffed animals, only the very small picture book. I sleep with it under my pillow, carry it around happily, flip through it every so often.

And then one unassuming day, at the dinner table - with a set of non-prepared parents - boldly yelled out my first words ever: Blueberry Girl.

Now, I'm sure you've figured out at this point of the story that the book my little self was holding was none other than your boo Blueberry Girl - and this is where my thanks comes. I have spent the last sixteen or so years since first acquiring it repeating the words to myself, asking Ladies of Light and Ladies of Darkness and Ladies of Never-You-Mind to watch over me if they could spare moments of their time. I repeat them whenever I have a difficult test, and even in the few moments right before my graduation speech of high school.

So thank you for the words that touched my little soul and stuck with me till now.

You are so very, very welcome.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Rhaenyra with prompt 10 plz

Prompt list - 10. Mutual Masturbation [F/F]

--------------------------------🐲-----------------------------------

Rhaenyra sighed as she sat at her vanity. Preparing for bed, but even looking at her own reflection seemed exhausting at this point.

Had she known the burden of taking the crown and wearing it would be so much, she may have just laid it down to begin with.

“Your Grace,” Rhaenyra turned from her reflection and frivolous thoughts, “are you alright?”

“Oh, yes, I am fine.” She told her ladies maid before returning to getting ready for bed. “Just a little tired. That’s all.”

“Hmmm…yes. It has been a long day, hasn’t it.” The young woman came up behind her Queen. Taking the brush and taking over the duties of brushing her long, silver hair. “Any word from Prince Daemon?”

Rhaenyra’s face soured but played it off as if she had hit some knot. “No. Not yet. But we will.” The last part was added as more of a hope than a fact. “I do not wish to talk about that right now. I do not wish to think about anything right now.”

The Queen sighed and slouched in her chair. Her maid chuckled a little and sat the brush down. “Shall I help with that instead, your grace?”

Rhaenyra looked up at the other woman. Her face sincere and non-judgmental. The first face in days she had seen that wanted nothing of her, save Rhaenyra’s happiness. “Yes.”

They come over to the bed and the maid helped her strip out of her nightclothes. “You too.” She ordered. This was not the first time they had done this. Her maid helping her ‘relax’. But Rhaenyra preferred them both to be naked when they did. There was something…vulnerable about it when she was naked and her maid was not. Too much the potential for danger; but perhaps that was her paranoia of late.

“Of course, your grace.” She agreed and stripped out of her simple clothes as well.

They lay on the bed facing each other. A long moment passes over them. Both waiting for the other to move and initiate. No one was sure who moved first, but soon enough they were kissing and the maid’s soft but still calloused hands roamed over Rhaenyra’s body.

Rhaenyra moaned softly into the kiss. Realizing now how devoid of touch she had been since Daemon had left. Her girl’s finger tips brush over a swiftly pebbling nipple. Down her center and over her naval. Finally seeking  purchase between her thighs. “Oh Gods…” Rhaenyra moaned. Hips almost instantly bucking against those practiced fingers.

The digits stroke at her core and moistened folds. Brush over her pearl in a way that makes her shiver. Mind going blank in the fog of passion, just like she wanted.

Rhaenyra’s own hand reached out for her maid and started to touch her as well. “Your grace,” the other woman sighed wantonly, “you needn’t….this is to help you. About what you want.”

“This is what I want.” Rhaenyra told her. Thighs trembling as their panting breathes mix together amongst the whispers of their secret. “Would you deny your Queen?”

The other woman whimpered and leaned in to kiss her Queen.

Their hands continue to touch and fondle each other in the dark. Soon enough, they were rutting against each other like animals. Devoid of the pleasantries of their stations and replaced with the primal urge for climax.

Rhaenyra came first. Apex seizing around her maid’s fingers as her whole body shook. Grasping at her with her free hand while the other toyed with her maid’s clit further to send her over the edge as well.

When it was over, and the fuzzy feeling of the fog had lifted, Rhaenyra turned to slide herself beneath the sheets and felt the bed shift for her maid to leave. “Wait. Don’t go.” The other woman paused, dress in her hand. For a moment looking just a pen drop fearful as Targareyn’s were known to change their mood like the winds. “It is rather cold tonight. I could use a bedwarmer for the evening.”

It was no lie. Dragonstone was much cooler than King’s Landing. Cooler in climate. Cooler in company. Cooler without Daemon here beside her.

Her maid smiled shyly and dropped her dress back to the ground. “Of course, your grace, whatever you need.” She crawled back into bed with Rhaenyra. Coiling about her as the Queen wished before the two fell asleep.

[messiahzzz]

You’re one of the most annoying people on this site. And that really says A LOT because WOW! Shut the Fuck up about Gale wanting to be a father or not. He never says that he doesn’t want to be one. You projecting things onto him doesn’t make it Canon.

on a serious note: i’m certainly not the one that continuously brings up this topic unprompted. i personally really don’t understand the entire controversy around the topic or why fandom feels the need to rehash this conversation almost weekly. i truly believe that there’s nothing more of value to learn from it, to address, or add to it… yet fandom won’t let it rest.

to once again clarify: what i mean by “gale wanting to be a father isn’t canon” is that there is no evidence/neither hints anywhere in any of the dialogue that support the contrary. characters like h*lsin, w*ll and la*’zel have entire adoption subplots. all of them mention their children explicitly during the epilogue:

narrator: *your soul warms thinking of lily aurora ravengard, your adopted daughter. a treasure of a girl, found at the entrance of the open hand temple - one grey eye, one brown.* w*ll: ah, the girl could melt the staunchest heart. she might even have brought a smile to old withers' face! w*ll: but tonight is for us - and lily's only four months of age, besides. i promise, the temple will keep her in good care.

player: and our little hatchling? is he safe? la*'zel: of course. i have complete trust in our newest allies. xan is in fine hands tonight. la*'zel: what a wonder he is. he will be a fine warrior, if he chooses. or a poet, or an explorer, or a scholar.

h*lsin: being away from it... i cannot help but worry how they will fare in our absence. player: we'll be back before they know it. h*lsin: i hope so. the children shall miss their bedtime tale tonight - though perhaps i can glean a few new stories from our friends here, to make up for it.

even shad*wh*art has a line where she briefly mentions that children might be a possibility for her in the future.

shad*wh*art: and i get to see my parents almost every day - i need to make every moment with them count, after so much was stolen from us. but they're doing well, [...] shad*wh*art: who knows? perhaps they'll have grandchildren before long.

gale in comparison? he has none of that. he remains childfree during the entirety of the game + epilogue. in fact, his line in the epilogue that addresses the topic of grandkids is this one:

tara: this is why mrs. dekarios and i will be waiting an eternity more for grandchildren. nodecontext: self-pitying gale: psst! shoo, tara. nodecontext: shooing away tara like one would a naughty cat.

i already wrote a post about this entire discourse here [x] but to repeat myself once more: all of the dialogue that vaguely addresses the topic of children in any way in regards to gale are these snippets

player: gale… how would you feel about having another person in our relationship? gale: what, like a child? i’m not quite sure i’d consider myself father material, plus our current lifestyle isn’t exactly what i’d call settled…

gale, upon spotting oliver during their game of hide and seek: ah, i have you! just a shame i don’t want you.

gale treating the children the group comes across with respect isn’t an indicator either. this is a courtesy gale extends to everyone he meets. he’s a character that approves of a protagonist who systematically commits good deeds. whether it’s sparing animals, helping without compensation in mind, or aiding children. wanting children to be cared for… and you know… for them not to die is common etiquette that every adult should extend to a child in need. those are not “dad goals!!!” it’s quite literally just basic human decency. gale is genuinely kind and caring to everyone he meets, there is no reason why this also wouldn’t apply to children.

i often see fandom mention his encounter with mol at last light and how excited he is to talk to her. which i think greatly misinterprets the context of the scenario since he didn’t have much of a reaction to mol before either — gale is ecstatic about lanceboard. again evident by his reaction to the party finding the life-sized board during the wyrmway trials, and how he immediately offers to give tav pointers. explaining different approaches to them in enthusiastic detail if they allow him to. the man just really likes lanceboard… as well as being the smartest person in the room.

gale: ah, lanceboard! why, this might just be the highlight of our misadventures to date.

gale: lanceboard happens to be a game with which i have more than a passing familiarity. might i offer a suggestion? nodecontext: gale's a badass lanceboard player, anticipating showing off

if you want to headcanon your tav and gale raising a big family together that is more than fine and no one is stopping you. whatever you want to happen to these two after the storyline of the game is up to your respective fantasies. no one is policing you on what you should do with your own character. go wild and create whatever fan content you wish, no justification required.

yet once again, as there is no mention in canon anywhere — neither in the main game nor the epilogue — that this is something gale would ever want (whether that may mean immediately or somewhere down the line) gale wanting to be a father remains a headcanon. while gale being childfree is explicitly shown in the game, in strict comparison to other companions that either have children by the end of the game or voice the desire to (eventually) have them.

my personal preferences are of no relevance here whatsoever. i care about accurate and correct characterization and will point out inconsistencies/false information no matter the topic. i, for one, want to appreciate these characters in the way they're written, not how i ideally want them to be.

[thevampiremarie]

THE KNIFE OF MUAD'DIB (Paul x OC!Reader x Chani)

Wherein na-Duke Paul Atreides is not the Bene Gesserit's only prospect for the Kwisatz Haderach. Raised by Paul's side as his playmate and servant, Chryse, the Bene Gesserit's cuckoo child, will forge a new future for her master.

(previously posted on AO3 as Themis)

PART I: JESSICA

Lady Jessica focused her intent gaze on the Reverend-Mother’s... gift. This gaze, to which the minutiae of observation was second nature rather than practiced pretense, followed the lines of the girl-child’s high cheekbones up towards large eyes that appeared to overwhelm the face they were set in.

She’d seen that look in those eyes before. Perhaps a thousand times over, a million times over. Reflected in the mirror back at her on Wallach IX, reflected in the shadowed eyes of the girls she barely remembered. The girls that one by one fell, until amongst a hundred girls there stood five Bene Gesserit.

Jessica’s skirt rustled against the floor as she stalked closer, circling the child, examining every angle.

How interesting.

Such control in the child’s bearing, belied by such fear.

Paul had always been fascinated with off-world animals in the filmbooks; the agrarian creatures that inhabited Caladan for over twenty generations bore no thrill to her clever son. Jessica had never understood his fascination as the filmbooks rendered such organisms dead to her. Mere simulacrums of life with soulless eyes.

Perhaps one such simulacrum stood before her now in the form of a human girl. “Reverend-Mother, does she have a name?”

“We call her Chryse. However, if that name does not suit you, Jessica, you may name her as you wish. It is of no consequence to us.” Reverend-Mother Mohiam’s demeanor certainly hadn’t changed in the slightest from the days when she served her overtly. When Gaius Helen Mohiam spoke, everything from her inscrutable countenance to the even tones of her voice commanded subservience. “You will not harm nor bring harm to the girl-child. It is our one order.”

Jessica watched as Mohiam brushed her fingers against Chryse’s jaw to tilt her still face up towards the sallow light of the glow-globe. Not even a muscle twitched in her smooth facade. Jessica wondered what sort of chaos lay beneath, whether the girl would be like the jagged rocks under the beckoning surface of Caladan’s oceans. Only a fool would dive into the dark water blindly.

There was no other option but to acquiesce. “You have my word. She shall not come to harm under my care or the care of House Atreides.”

“Good.” A look passed between them, lasting only a second. Within that second lay an eternity.

The Reverend-Mother strode from the room with an economical gait, not sparing another iota of energy to look back.

Jessica knew then the precise nature of this “present”.

How many men had failed in the making of the Kwisatz Haderach? How many years, decades, centuries had her sisters carefully tended the most sacred plant, a mind that could bridge space and time. If Paul failed -

She stopped that fearful thought in its tracks, held it in the cradle of her mind’s eye, then let it pass through.

The Bene Gesserit were patient like mountains were patient. Time was an endless resource. It was better to cultivate many plants of good stock than to nurture a small garden and watch as its leaves shrivel and diel. Chryse was not and could never be the Kwisatz Haderach. Perhaps that fact ought to have assuaged Jessica’s fear. Yet - if Paul should die while he was only eleven, the House of Atreides forever extinguished, the child seemed poised to become the next vessel to carry the bloodline of the Kwisatz Haderach. Only ten years old, and she had mastered the prana-bindu like an adept three times her age. Who knew what sort of terror she had been bred to create?

Her son had already shown promise even without her training. Paul might flourish, grow into a man, grow into the mind that the universe needed. That would never come to pass if Chryse supplanted him.

Mohiam must have felt some minute degree of affection towards Jessica. If she hadn’t, the Reverend-Mother would not have left the girl in her care. The blade was double-edged; the Bene Gesserit cared not for which of the two survived, only that one of them did. Motherhood had softened Jessica to the point where she felt some empathy for her poor charge. Not enough empathy to entirely stay her hand, but enough that she wanted the girl to live. Enough that she intended to lift the burden of killing her from Paul’s narrow shoulders.

“Come here, girl.” Once she was close enough that the Bene Gesserit-trained woman could stretch out a single, finely-boned hand and press her fingers to the weapon’s temple, she bade her stop.

Jessica brushed her mind carefully up against Chryse’s, wary of the mind traps the girl had surely been taught from birth.

There were no traps. Not even a token protest.

Chryse had fewer defenses than a newborn infant. Her mind was splayed out in the open; even the slightest whisper of Voice guaranteed complete obedience. The Bene Gesserit had truly forged a weapon of a girl. She hadn’t a psyche of her own - where there should lay a personality was instead filled with iron bars of mind conditioning. Jessica’s heart ached for her. No child deserved to live like that.

A moment passed wherein she further plumbed the depths of her mind. Jessica knew then that Chryse could never use a Voice of her own. The same breeding that had left her mind wide open had left her unable to Speak. But of what use to the lineage of the Kwisatz Haderach was a girl entirely unable to use the Voice and critically susceptible to it?

The vision came on suddenly, as the waves did against the shores of Caladan. A figure whirled amongst dozens of men as they fell to their knees. The lady knew those movements by heart even though they felt wrong. It was the Weirding Way, without a doubt. At the same time, every action was utterly alien. Chryse moved through the battlefield like a valkyrie of old with hands that created ruination with every twitch. Her deficit of Voice was more than made up by her complete mastery over the physical realities of others. Lungs collapsed inwards; hearts refused to beat; nerves froze. Blood. Oceans of blood.

Without meaning to, her fingers fell away from the girl’s temple in astonishment and the vision dissipated like morning mist.

The Kwisatz Mother had bred an abomination.

The laws of nature should have forbidden such a being from coming into existence. No doubt, she wouldn’t have without the careful guidance of the Bene Gesserit. What infinite combination of genes could produce a person who could bend human bodies to their will? A weapon to be wielded against the very molecules of anatomy? Chryse had quite a bit further to go before she would become the war goddess Jessica saw in her vision, but her raw talent remained a cudgel poised over Paul’s head and ready to end his life.

This was an unacceptable outcome.

Forgive me, Jessica thought; forgive me for what I must do. “You will never harm Paul Atreides. You will never allow harm to come to Paul Atreides. You will always remain loyal to him and never betray him in the slightest. You will lay down your life for him.” She swallowed down her guilt as she watched her Voice take root in the blank shell of the young girl’s mind. That Chryse was now freed from Bene Gesserit absolute control was a small consolation for the crime done against her. For Paul to live, this girl must be subjugated.

Her wide, dark eyes blinked. There it was - a tiny spark of life in her young, solemn face. Chryse was just a girl. A young one, at that. Innocent. Guilt ensnared Jessica’s heart and held it in a chokehold. The sisterhood had not completely uprooted her weak personality, but there was no doubt that their conditioning program left permanent scars. Jessica’s Voice would not have affected Chryse nearly as much without it.

The lady resolved always to be tender to the girl. At a minimum, she could improve the quality of Chryse’s life. Jessica told herself this as she called for servants to take the girl, bathe her, dress her, and prepare a chamber for her near Paul’s. Was it so selfish of her to want her son to live? At any cost? Paul’s new companion would always be treated well and never punished. There were worse fates. For the Kwisatz Haderach, the Bene Gesserit could commit any number of sins.

But Jessica knew her mind and herself. This was a blood debt that she could never repay.

Paul would be safe, and the girl’s powers would never be used against him. That would be her consolation.

-

Her palms smoothed over the muscled plains of Leto’s back. The Duke was her husband in all but name, and Jessica reveled in how he relaxed at her touch. At the school on Wallach IX, she’d learned everything but the warmth of trust and partnership built from deep, mutual love. There was no room in the lives of the Bene Gesserit for any kind of love besides the love of the sisterhood. It was this trust and love that had led Jessica to birth Leto a male heir instead of the daughters she’d been commanded to produce.

Leto reluctantly pulled himself away from her to pick through some papers strewn across his desk. “What’s this I hear about a new handmaiden joining our household?” 

Involuntarily, Jessica inhaled. “Ah, my new charge. Chryse. An orphan, Bene Gesserit trained but not suited to the task. Reverend-Mother Mohiam, the Imperial truth-sayer, has entrusted her safety to me.” She kept her hands out of Leto’s line of sight so he couldn’t see the tension in her white knuckles. Ever so slowly, the lady exhaled. Again, guilt. The guilt threatened to consume her whole.

Her husband had always been far too intuitive for his own good. “She is young.” Sometimes a conversation with him was like playing chess. Every word, every tone, every movement playing off those of the other. Jessica enjoyed such a conversation far more when the stakes were not nearly as high. Perhaps he knew even subconsciously what she felt, what she had done.

Jessica let the silence in the air hang.

Leto sat at his desk, his brown eyes never leaving her smooth face.

She conceded first. “It will be some time before the girl will serve as my handmaiden in truth, but is she not of an age with Paul?” Not quite a lie, not quite a truth. A certainty presented as a question even though she had already decided the answer.

With no other child from her in sight and no political marriage alliance contracted to provide others, her son remained at the forefront of his father’s concerns. “Paul must keep his attention turned towards his lessons. I trust you, Jessica. He cannot be distracted.” Leto was known to others as inscrutable and honorable. She could read every emotion that flickered across his handsome face. He was worried; that much was plain. He was worried about what the legacy he’d built and the enemies he made might do to his kind son. His only son.

Even though he would never know it, the solution to his worries was close at hand. “My love, every child needs a companion. There are no children of an age with Paul on Caladan and certainly none suitable for his station. I’ve seen his loneliness. I know you have too.” The truth in her words was undeniable. Only eleven years old, and Paul had never known a friend his age on Caladan. He glued himself to his filmbooks and the stories of Duncan Idaho and Gurney Halleck. Leto cared for more than just raising an heir. Jessica knew he loved Paul. He worried about his well-being. Her husband would grant her this wish. Check.

“What better place for a friend than a girl in his mother’s service? They won’t have to be parted for quite some time. And there is no better judge of caliber than the Bene Gesserit.”

His resigned sigh echoed in the quiet of his study. Checkmate. “You’re right.” Leto’s footsteps as he got up and drew closer to her were a comforting rhythm. She knew that rhythm by heart.

“I do tend to be.” The impulse to feel the rhythm of his pulse beneath her hands overtook her, and she let it. Jessica reached out to press herself to him. Her Duke responded in kind as he gently drew her arms around his neck and brushed his forehead against hers.

It was more than enough sometimes to breathe in the same air as her beloved. To know that she shared space, time, and life with him.

Leto pressed a kiss to her mouth. Without any further words, he left the room.

Her fingers pressed against her closed eyes as if to alleviate the burden she’d taken upon herself. All of this would be justified in the end. Jessica had to keep faith in that.

Reposting this unfinished dune fic i started during the 1st movie and orphaned on ao3! Seems as if there's interest. LMK if you want on the tag list.

[mcbeetlebeeb]

Perchance if your requests are open then I would like a modern reader with homestuck characters of your choosing?? If not that's ok you don't gotta if you don't wanna. Have good day

Hii, sorry for the INCREDIBLY late response, trying to remember how to use tumblr BUT YES I shall deliver 👍 thanks for asking question, I'll be doing the main four (ФωФ)

(and- hopefully I understand your question cause I'm ready to do this in head cannon platform- so??‐ 🫂 take it my friend)

⛅️John Egbert🎭

*deep inhale* NERRD

sorry, moving on

seems like the sorta guy to know fnaf lore, like all of it, I can't elaborate further

also he wears totally normal outfits with stupid stupid socks,,

silly socks, the dumbest you could imagine

I think at some point he'd be the mfker with some tape or a bandaid around the middle of his glasses to keep it together

hes a one pillow sleeper 😔

and by that I mean he has one singular pillow on his bed smh

he atones by sleeping with stuffed animals though

mfkin creepy ass light sleeper

and I say that cause I can fully imagine someone trying to get something while he's sleeping or even trying to wake him up

and he just sits up, all the way, no glasses john, eyes open all the way not groggy or confused

get this MAN SOME BROWN EYE CONTACTS!!

FUCK I THOUGHT THATD MAKE IT SMALLER HER FACE IS HUGE

no going back tumblr is already so confusing, sorry anon I tried to be funny now she's here

anyway..lord..

I think he'd forever go to bed at like a super specific time, and if he messes that up he feels wrong the next day

and that's all he'll tell you, "I feel wrong"

touch of the tisim probably perhaps maybe

listen his dad collected shaving cream and harlequins and clowns and stuff-..

I don't think he has freckles but more so little body moles speckled around his body

goofy smile, silly laugh, catch him snorting and slapping his knee n shit

tries to push up glasses with the nose scrunch thing, makes him show of his messes up teeth

an endearing young punster.

I definitely think if you'd be down, he's 100% the person too have nerf gun wars

something and John Egbert and a foam dart makes sense

and for some reason i connect that with bubbles

rip John you would've loved fruiter aergo

maybe, maybe more low quality photos of it though because idk

he has a strange love for...what's the word...

hmm.. eccentric things

he just holds them dear, think it's in his blood

who knows if that's a good or bad thing

expressive

I think you'd have to be, blind, deaf, mute and impossibly stupid to miss his body language

or just a meanie(?)

regardless not emotionally verbal, or at least not often, or- as much as he should

but physically shows it

like..for example if he was in a crappy mood, you'd be able to tell, and he'd confirm if you asked

and with him being expressive i would think comes with..what's the word again..uh..

responsive?

reactive?

especially to words, or touch

when he gets red, he one of them people to get red EVERywhere.

ears, down to the neck, shoulders, forhead.

dude looks like he's gonna pop a blood vessel any moment lmao

he'd be the person too have like reddened knuckles and stuff, cold hands, will press the cold hands into you for warmth

if he were to smell like anything, vanilla, faintly, all smells on him would be faint I'd like to think

☀️Rose Lalonde🔮

honestly my favorite to draw-

she is wrighting so many silly things for and too you

poems?

happening.

long strangely war letter back home love letters too you

they probably are never shown-

maybe unless you look or perhaps ask

she'd be...the best person to gossip over a drink with

tea, coffee, alcohol, water, soda

I think she'd be a mfker to sleep with socks

it's okay on some level cause they're socks she made herself

I also think not just gossip but she's like- she's a seer of light cmon-

she knows stuff

I think she may not look like it but she, is the ultimate yapper

and silly

silly Rose justice

shes a goofy goober too guys

there would be no way she's not

look at her friends

I think she'd like her hair to be pet sometimes

play with it gently, braid it for no reason

type of person I can see too sit with you on the porch as it rains

reminds me of mist and.. morning dew

chilly autumn mornings

where you can see your breath

shes one of them Halloween people

i just know she appreciates a crunchy leaf

*knits you this*

YOU SIZED OBVIOUSLY

also gloves

why not

stay warm

she'd want you too

she has dimples

both lil cheek dimples

I think she'd be someone to ponder her partner often

like, seeing a candle and going "oh perfect, you've found me here as well!" but she's in the middle of some store lol

or reading something, thinking about that phrase and linking it too you or something like that

something strangely meticulous

carefully, honestly, thought out.

shes the person too either meticulous take the time to paint her nails right

or paint them all fucked up, and then clean them up

leaning more towards the latter

am I saying that right?

she would smell like

mm, cold linen, and books, book smell

🌠Jade Harely🐾

ah yes

doggie

shes a sweetheart though

albeit a clumsy- narcoleptic one

she means well

most times

she has all the hair

everywhere!!

find her brushing herself

maybe???

maybe space powers debunk hair needs

I dunno probably pffhfhh

toothy smile

big toothy grin

I like to think she has braces

convincingly can bark and growl (before and after bec merge thingy)

probably got even more convincing dog bark talents

sit down with her and a good coloring book

entertainment for hours

she'd be up for most anything I bet

would possibly be bored laying around lounging

something tells me she'd have a thing with buttons

all shapes and sizes and materials

just- checks out as a Jade thing yknow

same with silly bands

somewhere there is glitter on this girl I'm convinced

maybe more earth glitter (dirt) than any other

but like, 🤷 I dunno man

can I pet dat dawg?

yes, pet the dog, dog longs for human contact

scratch that

contact

overall

shes just lonely, forgive her lack of "norm" social skills

brotha grew up on a damn island, with her dog, and stuffed grandpa

stuffed grandpa

I'd be a lil weirdo too

anon, I'm gonna tell you this now..

I've never read the books all the way threw, and I own 3 out of idk how many

so forgive me if this...- out of character

dirty nailz..

yknow how some big dogs have that mindset that they are little lap dog puppies?

her

oh you thought it was gonna be a lil head rest?

a lil lean?

no

blanket mode.

snuggle time.

accept it, at least for a minute.

I cannot explain why and I won't but, she gives me road runner vibes

just..yep, that's jade..harely..

what am I doing dude tf

also..don't ask me why, she would smell like pine, dirt, soil if you will, maybe lavender too, or more something..sugary? cinnamon?

am I making sense

⚔️Dave Strider📀

uughhh what haven't I said about this dude

hmm

I'm trying to remember what I wrote before tumblr rudely disrupted my wrighting and made me go back to the beginning

well let's see

eotushuf

here me out

this but on him

and it's soft blonde and and

there's spots that are missing from scars

and they go down to his hand,, and fingers

the hair on the side of the hand, you know what I mean

also has missing little patches

broad..finge nail

chews his nails

hhe.. uu h out of all of the four, probably the best to lounge around with

laying around

what's the word

parallel play?

being able to comfortably do yalls own thing in the same place

without a lot of talking

rhhrrgg

hes the type of person to 100% do the three hand squeeze thing

iykyk... (squeezing someone's hand to wordlessly say, "I love you")

and if you respond verbally, or even just squeezing back

he'll face away and do it back again

epitome of "putting on sunglasses so no one knows what I'm looking at"

you at you

he has..like stupid peripheral vision and uses it to advantage

I cannot say why but, he definitely has funky cool ties

just does i feel it

also, crackley

cracking his knuckles, his neck, back

when he stands it's like fine machinery sounding

clicking and popping in knees and hips

blonde

...eyelashes..

rough palms and scar knuckles

he smells like- a well slept on pillow ina good way- and also maybe

faintly of apple juice, carton apple juice..

guys this is buns, I'm so sorry truly, I'm also..so sleepy..😔

anon i hope this was right, and..to your request, I hope u have a good day (*^▽^)/★*☆♪

[yerimbrit]

[flufftober day 31, wc: 1k] - trick or treat! : i saw a ghost! with MC kkura

“THIS IS PROBABLY THE MOST UNSERIOUS THING WE’VE DONE,” sakura mutters, pulling the modified bed sheet-turned-ghost costume over your head. you stop her midway so she can see your wide grin, and she only shakes her head fondly at you.

you let the sheet fall down over the rest of your face, and then point to yourself—although your arms are also covered with the sheet, so it just looks like a nub of the ghost is sticking out. “but it fits, kkura, i’m a ghost because i was a ghost, and you’re a ghostbuster! except we’re in love. hey, do you think that counts as forbidden love?”

“no comment,” sakura answers, spinning you around to see the rest of your look. she’s thinking of adding sunglasses, but she’s also afraid you’re gonna fall over because it’s so dark, so… maybe she’ll take it with her just in case.

because of her response (or lack thereof) you start sulking, sometimes sakura chooses not to humor you and it’s annoying. maybe if you died again she would treat you specially again. such a mean lover, but you love her regardless and you know she does too. there were some struggles and certain circumstances before and after you became human again, some that you can’t really explain in detail at the moment.

sakura sees your sulking state and sighs, grabbing the beanie she crocheted for you and fitting it snugly on your head, over the sheet. you hum in approval and kiss her cheek through the costume, effectively growing a blush across her face. “shall we go?”

“this is a rich looking neighborhood,” you note, holding sakura’s hand tightly in yours, the fabric bunching up at your wrist. you’re holding a pumpkin bucket with the other hand. “you should make this on your animal crossing island.”

the girl thinks it over, pursing her lips. “i could, but do i really want to do all of that work?”

you shrug, “you’ve done it before, in your stardew valley farm.”

“touché.”

as expected from a “rich looking neighborhood” the two of you rack up some king-sized candy bars and other trinkets that you don’t really pay attention to, with your unoriginal (but inside joke heavy) costumes. apparently, an old classmate of yours lived in one of the houses you visited and said that the ghost’s voice sounded familiar, so you had to hurry to get out of there.

(“huh,” sooyoung frowns, “you kind of sound familiar, miss ghost. like someone i used to know…”

a bead of sweat forms on both you and sakura’s faces. you chuckle nervously, “what a coincidence, right?”

sooyoung drops two fun sized kit kats into your pumpkin bucket, nodding in suspicion. “happy halloween.”

you two turn back, scurrying off to the sidewalk. “she’s scary,” you whine, nearly tripping over yourself, “she’s always been scary!”)

a dead woman could not trick-or-treat, she could only trick. and haunt. and get resurrected by her human lover. 

some have looked at you weirdly, or did a double-take when they heard your voice behind the costume, but you pay it no mind. people you knew might recognize you, but you’re a changed person, at least different from the y/n they knew. perhaps that is the effect of being a ghost for more than three years. you’re happy now, though, with sakura—you’ve been accepted at her university, your classes are fun and challenging, and you’re planning on majoring in physiology. you’ve also picked poetry back up.

but one thing for sure, one thing you’ll be eternally grateful for: being able to taste honey butter chips again. and going trick-or-treating for the first time in probably ten years.

oh, and also, chaewon lives on this street. the two of you came to her house earlier, ringing the doorbell and expecting regular old chaewon to answer, but you were greeted with yunjin in a striking red wildcats jersey.

(“oh hey kkura-unnie, and y/n—wait, hahahaha! that’s so funny, ‘cause you were, hahaha!” yunjin doubles over, holding her stomach from laughing so hard.

“can i have my candy?” you ask impatiently, holding out the bucket. “what are you supposed to be?”

the american smiles widely, pulling chaewon over who is dressed in a dumb inflatable red blood drop costume. “i’m troy bolton,” she points to herself.

“and i’m hemoglobin!” chaewon finishes, before the embarrassment kicks in and she dumps a whole bag of twix into your bucket. “pretend you never saw that.”

sakura snickers and fidgets with the ghost sucker in her hand. “i can’t promise anything.”)

your bucket is nearly filled to the brim, so you agree to make the next house the last stop of the day before returning to sakura’s car. on the outside, the house has some white and orange fairy lights, with very nicely designed and carved pumpkins on the porch. there’s also a slightly deflated santa inflatable in the back, but you don’t think that’s part of the halloween festivities.

“i’m getting a vibe from this place,” you say as you approach the front door, trying not to spill your candy.

the ghostbuster tilts her head. “what vibes?”

“i don’t know, just vibes.”

you ring the doorbell. and the most familiar face answers the door. 

“oh, are you trick or treating?”

“s… se-seulgi,” you blink rapidly, utterly shocked. the artist raises her eyebrows, then furrows them. 

“y/n…? is that you? oh, my god.”

so yeah, turns out the vibe was the whole best friend that graduated and caused your death of loneliness. fun! no, really—fun, because you haven’t seen her since she left.

the three of you end up chatting for a bit, you and seulgi exchanging sincere apologies and also phone numbers, and you also get to meet her two cats, lulu and lala, who treat you like their love at first sight. 

seulgi ran out of candy (someone stole the entire bowl she set outside) so she offered to draw a portrait of you and sakura in your halloween costumes, which you gladly take. as expected, it turns out like it should belong in a museum. this is definitely getting stuck on the fridge.

“i'll talk to you later, okay?” the artist waves goodbye, patting you on the head (or the top of the beanie) and giving a real, genuine eye smile. 

“later,” you grin.

it turns out later might not come because you may or may not have overdosed on more than 20 packs of smarties.

flufftober masterlist

a/n : and that marks the end of flufftober! thank you to all who stuck around until the very last day, im actually rlly surprised i finished it LOL

[letsgobarbs]

wip wip wip

thank you for the tag @sizzlingcloudmentality MUAH here's a kiss of thanks <33

Shall we check up on the girls?

Maryam from Homecoming has stepped into Dave's mancave/bachelor pad/ post-divorce apartment like a gullible lamb. And I don't believe he will let her out so easily:

“David, hi!” Her greeting came out far too high-pitched.

Maryam felt the most girlish instinct to squeal into her hands, it should be illegal how good he looked. A part of her felt relieved that he looked well, his skin looked sun-kissed and warm, covered with a slight sheen of sweat. She had never seen him this animated, with a twinkle in his eye, a wide grin on his face that pronounced the crinkle of crow’s feet by his eyes, and he moved purposefully but with a lightness about him that reminded her of butterflies as they flit from one flower to another to feed on nectar. 

However, in this case, the flowers were the blooms of pencils, colours, paper and toys left behind by Molly and Alice that David tidied looking appropriately sheepish. As he ushered her in, the realisation that he seemed genuinely glad to see her eased her anxiety and settled into her stomach like warm soup— soothing and comforting. 

“I’m usually not this messy, I swear. Would you like something to drink?” 

Maryam followed him to the kitchen, appreciating the way he filled out those grey sweatpants. His black t-shirt strained to contain his shoulders, the muscles underneath rippling as he bent down to pick up an abandoned Lego piece. David opened his fridge to reveal… a plastic container of grated parmesan cheese, eggs lying around without the tray, a jug of milk, and assorted condiments on the door. 

The sight snapped her back to reality. Maryam chastised herself, she wasn't here to be distracted by his ass as he bent down to check on the expiry date on the milk, or the way he pursed his lip into the most irresistible little moue, or the way his furrowed brow made his eyes take on a more doe-like quality. The milk is most definitely expired. 

The fridge was the cleanest surface in the house because everything else was covered in a soft blanket of dust. Somehow, it didn't exude the laziness of someone falling behind on cleaning. Maryam chanced a glance around, it seemed more like nobody was home. 

The books on the coffee table, the healing crystal on the dining table, the kitchen counter, all had an even coating of dust undisturbed by ring marks from mugs or plates. Even the things Dave had been tidying seemed untouched since his daughters left them there. She suddenly felt so grateful she had worn socks today, there was nothing worse than the uncomfortable feeling of dry dust sticking to your feet. Her skin crawled at the thought of it. Maryam found there were two sets of footprints, both freshly made by her and David. 

The picture was a desolate one. She imagined Dave never ventured out of his bedroom, never even got off the bed unless he had to. Was he at least eating? Maybe he had some snacks hoarded in his room? The thought that he was depressed and lonely without someone to reach out to made it difficult for her to breathe. Maryam struggled to call forth her mandatory mental health training. Be supportive and non-intrusive. How the fuck was she supposed to do that? Hey David, buddy, you good? Been eating? Eating well? Did you even leave the house? 

Well, he must've left the house. He was wearing his running shoes and he had worked up a light sweat so he must have worked out a bit too. Perhaps, today was one of the better days? 

“I could put on some coffee?” David offered. Without milk? No, thank you.

Maryam made a great show of checking the watch on her wrist, not even reading the time. 

“Actually, I dropped by on my way to dinner, if you would like to join?” 

Liar. She never has dinner before dark. If left to her, she didn't even cook dinner before her evening prayers. 

“Bit early for dinner, isn't it?” He teased, cocking his head to the side as if the new angle could solve the mystery of what she was up to. 

“Yup, I skipped lunch.”

Liar. She had a rice bowl for lunch. 

“Sure, I’d love to join. Didn't you say you lived with your mom? Isn't she expecting you home for dinner?” 

She hadn't mentioned it to him, but it was one of those things everyone knew about her and could've easily mentioned it. 

“She’s out of town. Would you like to grab a jacket before we head out? I'll drive.”

LIAR. Dave couldn't help but level a raised brow at her. He saw her mother cozied up at home, most probably bingeing a new K-Drama. Maryam looked unphased, returning a genial and entirely guileless smile at him. It surprised him how easily she lied. If he hadn't known the truth, he would never have guessed she was lying. She had no visible tells.

Well, well, well. His Maryam was shaping up to be quite the compulsive liar. Her face was a world of dialogue unto itself, it was the most expressive he had ever seen— able to communicate feelings she, herself, couldn't put into words. So he'd grown complacent, believing her to be one of those people who didn't lie well. But this, this was exciting. And endearing.

He wanted to know the lengths to which she could lie— see how far she takes it. It made him all the more curious about why she was lying. He didn't believe she would show up unannounced to simply have dinner with him.

Anyway, I'm sure Maryam and Dave have it all figured out for now. Should we see what Anaticula and Marcus from His Young Wife are up to?

You carefully arranged the items on the table according to the instructions. The amulet, the talisman, the crystal, a small lamp, wine and a wooden soldier doll— his tunic fashioned from a strip of fabric you had torn from Marcus’ clothes. There was also a crushed beetle, but you hadn’t yet decided what to do with it. 

“You can’t judge.” There was a hint of uncertainty that weakened your reprimand. 

“Love spells don’t work,” Acacius stated. Of course, you knew they didn’t work— if they did, then all women would have loving husbands and families. But you couldn’t trample on that sliver of hope that yearned to bind Marcus to you as lovers. You awkwardly cleared your throat, it was embarrassing to chant the spell in front of the man whose counterpart you were trying to ensnare.

In the lowest of murmurs, you began invoking the deities and reciting, “Marcus Acacius Amatus, who Fulvia bore, burn him on this very day, from this very hour on, set on fire and inflame his soul, heart, liver, spirit, with love for his wife, Acacia…” 

The lamp was placed in the household shrine. The talisman under his pillow, the amulet tied around your waist under your tunic, the crystal worn on your finger, the doll wrapped in paper with the chant written on it and buried in a clay pot. Marcus would have to drink the wine.

“What is in the wine?” Acacius asks you as Marcus pours his fourth cup. You had not needed to convince him to drink it— you only mentioned that you had made it for him when he had left for war so it would be ready for him when he returned. You knew he would drink the entire jar. You just weren’t sure if he should, not having remembered those particular instructions.

“These wines typically use aphrodisiacs.” He reminded you as if you hadn’t added them yourself.

“It’s not good for him if he drinks so much.” You were starting to worry about that too. Marcus was in a very odd state of mind— quieter than he should be, his eyes a bit unfocused, you couldn’t make out his softly mumbled words before he tittered at his own joke. Usually, four cups of wine didn’t make a difference. But you knew your concoction was potent, there was also the cannabis in it. 

“Did you add mandrake root? They are always thrown into love potions. Too much of it could kill him.” Acacius noted. And you finally spurred forward, taking the jar off the table and out of his reach. He blinked at you as if waking up from slumber and serenely smiled.

“It’s good wine, give it back.” Marcus lazily lunged for it, causing you to hop out of your seat, cradling the jar as you backpedalled from him. 

“No more wine, Marcus. You’re drunk.” Your voice was soft, concerned.

“I’m not drunk, sweetheart.” Your heart fluttered at his use of the endearment— the gentle, affectionate way he uttered it. It was just the wine, you tried to remind yourself. Yes, the love potion, your mind whispered back. No, those things don’t work, you were just entertaining fantasies.

Oh, wow. So we're truly desperate in that one. Anaticula has not been able to forget Marcus kissing Lucilla, so she will stop at nothing to seduce her husband. Oh, but wait, there's a secret third thing I'm cooking up... IT'S SMUT SMUT SMUTTIEST SMUT. Based on this moodboard I made of Javi x South Asian Reader:

He couldn’t take his eyes off it. It shouldn’t affect him this way, he had seen women wear far, far less clothing— he’d seen them in clothing designed to seduce, those tiny, frilly, lacy things that he removed to see them in all their sexy glory.

And she was fully dressed, respectably so, even if it was so out of place in this bar in Bogotá, Colombia. It had taken him an embarrassingly long moment to realise she was wearing a sari— the kind Mrs Patel used to wear down the street back home in Laredo. But she’d never looked this tantalising. 

The string crossing her shoulder blades moved again as she reached out her arm for her drink. Her top was tight— perfectly tailored to fit her like second skin. It ended just below her bust where it dug into her body forming the most perfect roll. Just below, the sari tightly draped her waist pushing the plush of her torso to pool over the fabric. Javi swiped his tongue over his teeth, feeling them itch with the need to bite into that soft exposed skin at her midriff.  

The dim lights of the bar teased and played over the contours of her back. He took a large swig of his beer to wash down the liquid gathering in his mouth at the lewd images his mind was playing for him like a porno. The feel of her spine under his tongue when he would lick up the long divot running down, symmetrically separating her back in two. The taste of her skin when he would bite and mark that perfect back. He wanted to suck bruises onto the delicate curves pushed out by her sari. 

The movement of her spine was hypnotic as she straightened. And he really should look away now, she had probably felt his eyes on her. But the fluid movement of her waist as she turned to glance at him prevented him from rescuing his dignity. He didn’t even look up to meet her eyes, just stared at the curve of her back like a creep. 

All he could imagine was the same curve as she would turn to look back at him one last time before leaving his apartment. But it would carry the indents of his teeth. Just over that perfect ass wrapped in swathes of fabric, he wanted to see large blooms of hickeys that she would have to walk out in the morning with.

Had quite the productive week actually LMFAO

NPT: @probablyreadinsmut (I know you just gave us the most perfect chapter baby but I wanna know what's coming next) @604to647 @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal @jennaispunk @romanarose @mrsmando @stellamarielu @sp00kymulderr @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist @din-cognito @wethairjoel @xdaddysprincessxx @lillaydee @pedrospookie @joelmillerisapunk @almostempty @inept-the-magnificent @josephquinnswhore @peepawispunk @missyorkswhore @iknowisoundcrazy @beefrobeefcal and anybody else who wants to share, if you tag me, best believe i will come snoop!!

[0v3rcast]

Gnaw (part 1)

Contains: Body Horror, Blood, Violence

You had fallen to Teyvat some time ago, pulled down from the sky by a brilliant platinum star, the elements gently beckoning for you, all of them trying to prove their land the most suitable for your descent.

"Welcome back, Sea-shaper," Hydro murmurs, their voice the babbling of streams and the roar of the angry sea all at once. "Fontaine has such sights to show you. As you created, we have created to honor your actions. For your beauty, we have made our people beautiful. You will want for nothing-"

"COME TO US, HOLY TINDER," Pyro roars, its voice the starving crackle of flame and the churning of molten rock as volcanoes erupt. "NATLAN AWAITS YOU WITH AN OFFERING OF ENDLESS PASSION. YOU SHALL NEVER GO UNPROTECTED, UNLOVED, OR HUNGRY."

"Welcome, almighty Whirlwind of Creation," Electro purrs, speaking with the rattle-boom of echoing thunder. "Shall you grace my people with your presence?"

"Welcome home, Blessed Foundation," Geo hums, their voice the whispers of sand and the ancient growl of tectonic plates shifting. "Liyue has grown prosperous since you've last seen it. Perhaps you should come to us instead, where the riches of Teyvat could be put directly to use in pleasing you?"

"Don't listen to them, First Breath! We've waited for you the longest, like, a whole forever! We were first!" Anemo pleads, in the tones of breeze softly rustling leaves and howling tornadoes. "Even if you just stop by, that's totally fine!"

"You've finally come home, Heart of Winter? Good. We have missed you so." Cryo coos, the flurrying of snow and ancient creaking of glaciers their voice. "Snezhnaya may be a harsh land, but faith is enough to warm the bodies of my people."

"Flower of Irminsul, Root of All, please! You cannot come down! Another wears your face, please turn back if only for a few more days!" Dendro howls, desperate, voice a cacophony of falling trees and leaves rustling. "You ar-"

Dendro's voice fades as you pass the point of no return and begin to burn through the sky towards Mondstadt, Anemo ripping at the air to direct your course even as the other elements rage at them for their impudence.

As you fall, the memory of this conversation fades from your mind.

Welcome home, Maker, whispers the Abyss into the back of your mind.

Since that day, your time in Teyvat had become quite difficult. Whatever hopes you'd had for this world were soundly dashed.

Mondstadt 'welcomed' you with scorn and hostility for sharing the same face as their Heiliger Schöpfer, the Divine above Divines.

You were unsure as to why they hated you so, simply for your face- especially since that face is one that's otherwise looked kindly upon in this world.

You do your best to take in the sights, all the same. Though you are confused by the frosty reception, this place is so much more interesting than the game shows.

There are many more homes and people, you see (and pet) some stray animals, pick a particularly low philanemo mushroom after a couple seconds of jumping and stretching in an attempt to reach it, and generally just enjoy the (rather tense) locale.

Your confusion became fear when the Knights of Favonius begin to chase you. You'd done no crime, why would they hunt you like this, especially with such wrathful looks on their faces?!

The closest you get to meeting any of the allogenes on friendly terms comes when you breeze past Sucrose, yelping out a greeting to her. She just watches you go, incredibly confused, before a Knight accidentally bowls her over in his maddened rush after you.

Just as you exit the gate, the Knights just behind you, yelling curses and what you presume are threats-

P a i n.

Eula Lawrence just pushed a greatsword through your lungs and out your back. You have no clue how she got here so fast, where from, or how you didn't notice her.

You gag and choke as your blood quickly rushes into the space (and out of your body, simultaneously).

With a vicious yank, she tears it from you in a diagonal motion, nearly carving you in half.

A darkly satisfied look in her eyes is all you receive when you uselessly try to gasp for air and plead for help.

Your vision begins to fade, but before you can die of blood loss her boot comes down.

(Your nascent godhood activates the moment you die, and it plots a new trajectory: your misery will shape you until such a time comes that you will never feel this suffering again.)

You wake screaming in the woods, hands coming to clutch at your chest.

A massive golden scar lies just between your xiphoid process and sternum, perfectly horizontal in a way that only comes with practice.

Your clothes are covered in the brownish rusty red of old dried blood, and quite badly torn from where you were sliced nearly in two.

Breathing feels... easier, somehow. Like your lungs didn't just heal from immense trauma.

Your stomach aches badly and your mouth feels like it's full of sand. How long have you been laying here beneath the sun?

Your attempts to rise from this resting place are fruitless. You're so exhausted you can barely move your fingers.

Darkness slowly weighs your eyelids down and you fall asleep, even though you know you should not.

---

Elsewhere in the world, a being wearing your face stares up at a statue to themselves, noting with some alarm the golden scar across its chest.

The only recent news they had about an imposter was the Lawrence outcast running one through.

Now they'll have to find some way to replicate your scar and keep up the ruse.

"The original has truly descended, then... fine." They hiss, words venomous, glaring at the face of the statue. "If I can't have this place as my playground, then they won't get to have you."

---

The next time you wake, it is night, and the hunger in your belly is gnawing at you with such fervor that you feel lightheaded.

When you stand, your head twinges with pain as if to protest even this miniscule expenditure of energy.

Your body stumbles at first, briefly overcome by vertigo, but quickly adjusts.

Your mind changes its tune completely upon seeing a plump, ripe Sunsettia growing on its branch.

You desperately scramble over to pull the Sunsettia from the tree- only for it to drop into your waiting hands as soon as you reach up.

The 'how' of this doesn't quite matter to you in the moment. You bite into the ripe fruit and moan in bliss at the tart taste of the flesh and the sweetness of the juices. Within twenty seconds, you've reduced this fruit to a nubby pit, almost like a peach has.

That's kinda neat, actually. You distantly wonder what you have to crossbreed with a peach to make Sunsettias.

You pat the tree as if to thank it, not noticing that it suddenly stands a bit straighter or how its leaves are just a tiny bit greener, and go to find a nice place to put down this future Sunsettia tree.

You eventually get bored of looking for a good place and just poke a hole into the ground with a fallen branch, then stuff the remains of your first Sunsettia into the hole.

You wander off into the woods in hopes of finding a road, unaware of the golden-leaved sapling slowly growing behind you.

With a new source of energy in your system, you feel the urge to get moving- might as well make the most of this while you have it.

Your stamina is better than before, it feels like. Distances that previously felt difficult feel easier on your legs- and definitely on your lungs.

Perhaps this has something to do with your demise?

...what's that weird whistling soun-

You fall, dead, an Anemo-enriched arrow punching through the back of your head.

For a brief moment, you dream of a place deep beneath the surface of Teyvat, and a ruined statue oozing corruption into infinite darkness.

You wake with a small headache, very hungry, and more than a little pissed. Won't people just leave you the fuck alone?

Somehow, you feel sturdier. Less breakable. As nice as that is, you don't particularly feel up to testing it.

You stand.

Perhaps you should avoid civilization from now on.

[numberonetacostan]

having a rough week so could you perhaps offer some fluffy taco/tacomic headcanons/thoughts

Hi there!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!! :] I'm sorry to hear you're having a rough time <3

Ask and you shall receive: taco(mic) fluff!!!

I have a fun little handwriting headcanon for Taco!! See, when writing in (english, not sure if this applies elsewhere) cursive, two loops on the 'o' tends to signify that the person writing is deceptive or deceiving you. So, I think Taco would write her 'o''s with two loops, since she'd definitely be a cursive girlie anyways. I don't know if this would count as fluff but I think Taco having nice handwriting is cute!! She's so fancy <3

I think Taco could be uniquely skilled in carving!! She was out in the woods for a while, yeah? So she probably carved herself a lot of bowls and plates and such. And while she was at it, maybe she pursued it as something to do while she was out there!! She can make little animals or toys or such. Maybe be able to do some pretty solid full-on carpenter work after having so much practice. Hehe, post-canon everyone would be impressed by Taco and Mic's room/residence having such fancy, ornate furniture!! And Taco would be quite proud of her work!!

Mic loves those super sugary, super caffeinated energy drinks that are absolutely terrible for you. Taco finds out about how bad they can be for your health, and immediately gets rid of all of them and has Mic start drinking tea. They eventually compromise with Mic drinking one cup of coffee per day and fruit juices the rest of the time. Mic will still occasionally a cup of hibiscus or raspberry tea, though she doesn't love it as Taco does. She'd eventually stop missing her energy drinks, since she isn't addicted anymore, but she'd appreciate Taco's concern for her health the whole time.

With the common headcanon-y design of Mic having a spikey collar, I like to imagine that once, when she was scooping up Taco for a kissing, she accidentally poked her against one of said spikes. Mic did not wear her spikes for quite some time after that, until Taco reassured her it would be alright as long as she was careful.

Mic is clingy when she's asleep. Every night, without fail, Taco is scooped up like a stuff animal and held tight until Mic wakes up the next morning. Taco does not mind as much as she pretends to in the beginning. She eventually admits to liking it, but only to Mic herself.

I hope these have made you feel a bit better!! <3

[rosakuma]

Hey you, yes you random tumblr user who hopefully so happens to get this post on their timeline.

🫵😐

I have a question for you. Do you like a show about magical creatures who grant your every wish? A show about a pair quite strange that are a funny duo as they try helping out a girl who just moved to a new city feeling all alone? A comedically fun show with a surprisingly good life lessons and a fun cast of characters that bounce off each other well? Along with some good representation of both POC and LGBT groups. A show with strangely enough entertaining drama between two 10 years old that’s makes you go “Awww the sillies” and “NOOOOO WHY MUST THIS HAPPEN TO THEM!? *sobs* “ that tugs at your heartstrings? Not to mention Daddy Issues~✨ A show with a lovable black girl protagonist who cares about others as she tries putting others first, has a wild imagination of ideas, goes through internal struggles about herself and what others think of her, and loves rocks and French fries also maybe autistic coded too?

Well do I have the show for you!

Comso, Wanda if you please?

That’s right folks! The reboot/sequel to the classic nicktoon show The Fairly Oddparents : A New Wish is out right now internationally on Netflix! And you can check it out to see the fun adventures of Hazel Wells, a 10 year old girl who recently moved to a new city with her parents away from her older brother who was her best friend she rely on, but now is off to college. To which Cosmo and Wanda, two fairy godparents, who decided to come out of retirement to help her out with dealing with her new environment and situations she’ll get herself into.

It also is the show with that purple guy with swirly hair you’d seen on tumblr before? That’s right, Peri!

If I was able to peak your interest on the show, please go check it out on Netflix! And only watch it on Netflix as the show’s fate to get a second season depends on the views on Netflix for it to be greenlit for one. So no pirating and if you don’t have Netflix to be able to watch it, spread the word! To help get this show a second season is to help the talented crew members who work hard to deliver such a charming show that is a wonderful and fateful continuation of the OG it’s based off. Along with a win for animation since it’s been hard in the animation industry as of right now with animators, editors, storyboard artists, writers, and others in this industry struggling to be able to continue working on projects they love that also is their source of income. So be willing to lend a hand to help out to those people the best you can so that they can continue to have work and make fun shows like this one! Also it determines the fate of a certain character to hopefully get a happy ending and a good redemption arc plz my child deserves a second chance

Also here’s some advices for when watching A New Wish:

Try watching an episode or two a day. Putting it on loop too much might make seem not real viewers are watching and the views won’t count. Plus it be boring to speed through the first half of the season.

Try rewatching the show from time to time. Maybe watch it with a friend or two. Or perhaps a family member who enjoyed the OG show. Watch it with your dog maybe too!

Despite the show being out and most of the stuff being talked about already, keep talking about it to spread the word online! Any socials like tumblr, instagram, twitter, blue sky, tik tok you name it!

Also don’t post spoilers for any new viewers you see around. It’s more fun for them to experience first hand.

Alrighty, I shall take my leave now, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy FOP ANW!

[sky-kiss]

Raphael & Jaheira: You All Meet at an Inn

A/N: I had to get an intro out of the way before proper sassing down the line. And apologies, I'm out of practice with writing.

R & J: Let's be honest, his taste in wine is so much better than hers

Like many of his kind, the devil was a series of contradictions. 

Handsome but not striking. Languid, but only on a cursory inspection. A more pointed observation would showcase the taut muscles in his shoulders and thighs, hinting that the lazy rolling motion of his wrist was intentional rather than instinctual. And, perhaps most importantly, despite the ostentatiousness of his garb, rich blues, reds, and golds, which demanded attention and respect, few of the Last Light’s patrons truly saw him. 

Jaheira did not fault them for the oversight. The High Harper noted it with a world-weary amalgamation of affection and exhaustion. Few prey animals noticed the hunter until it was upon them. Man and beast were not such disparate creatures. 

She shifted, rolling her shoulders to alleviate some residual tension—the aches that never seemed to properly fade these days, which had faded until only a decade prior. She should turn him out. And aye, much like the aches, even a decade ago, she might have done something about his presence—but where was the harm? He stuck to his corner and played his games. 

In the darker stretches of the night, his attention shifted away from the lance-board and his books towards the door. The devil waited. 

Jaheira waited, too.  

The devil lifted his head, eyes flicking from the Mystra piece to the Harper. He made a show of it, eyes widening, lips turning up in a smile—noticing her, seemingly for the first time. She snorted, arching a brow. He shrugged, expression relaxing into something more neutral and more genuine, motioning to the seat across from him. 

“You know, I rather wondered which of us would bring our little dance to its close,” he began, voice warm and rich. His lips twitched, expression colored with so many masterful little notes—presumed intimacy, natural familiarity…they might have been old friends meeting for drinks in any alehouse. Easiness and charm…the domain of all his kind. His eyes glittered in the firelight. 

The half-elf sunk into the chair, holding her arms out wide. “Shall we continue circling each other like coquettish maids?” Jaheira waved him off. “Who has time for it?”

“Certainly not you, High Harper. All this,” he motioned around them, attention flicking to the window and the shadows just beyond. “Resting on your shoulders…such a weighty calling.” 

“You offer to take it from me?” 

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You are so…uniquely equipped for these travails.” 

Jaheira snorted. “Let us call it experience—hard won over many years of life.” She tipped her head to the side, regarding him closely. Without a room of distance between them, she could appreciate the more minor details of this mortal form: wrinkles near the corners of his eyes, hints of sunspots across the back of his hands, and streaks of gray brightening otherwise dark hair. He felt fully manifest in a way so many of his ilk failed to recognize—the little things grounded an illusion in reality. “Come, tell me what to call you. In my head, it is ‘devil this, devil that’...tedious.” 

His eyes widened. “You shall have to forgive this lapse in manners—it’s the setting, you see. One really isn’t at their best.” He mimed a bow, someone still regal despite the confines of the chair. “I am Raphael—very much at your service.” 

“A pleasant name! Well-suited to this pleasant face.”  

Raphael hummed. With a snap of his fingers, the lance-board disappeared. In its place, a bottle of brandy. She did not recognize the label’s language. “A devil in your house, and yet…we are rather blase.” 

“Do not take it personally.” She ghosted her fingers across the table. “Gods of death, demon princes…after these things—” his muscles drew taut, eyes narrowing as she spoke. “ —your feathers are very pretty, but… you make for a much smaller bird.” 

To his credit, Raphael laughed. He poured them each a glass of wine. As if in concession, he took the first sip—no poison. Jaheira bowed her head and followed suit. The wine’s bouquet blossomed across her tongue—rich and deep, a hint of cherry and leather giving way to softer, more subtle notes. It reminded her of Calimshan—pleasant evenings before the true weight of adventuring settled on her shoulder…when she’d been young, Khalid at her side. 

The knowing glint in his eye said he’d anticipated such a reaction. A smaller bird, perhaps, but cunning. I have survived so many years, his gaze said, and I have thrived for good reason. 

“To walk so freely on the Prime is no small thing. And you do not seem the sort to bind yourself to the whims of mortals…” she tapped her chin. “A cambion, then.” 

“Are we to trade parlor tricks, my dear? Shall I ask if your house qualified you as a ‘princess’ or a ‘lady’ in Tethyr?” 

“A lady, though my youngest will argue that point till she is blue in the face.” Jaheira held up her glass in salute. “Do not take offense—it was a compliment, one mongrel to another.” 

Raphael chuckled. “One mongrel to another.” The cambion sighed, relaxing back into his seat. He stroked his chin, fingers teasing across the whisper of stubble—not quite a day’s growth, perhaps a matter of hours. A testament to his dedication and vanity—over the past week, he’d never moved from his seat by the window. “Shall we be honest with each other, ladyship?” 

“It depends. Will honestly not make your skin itch?” 

“You wound me. I am a paragon of virtue to friends and clients both. And the honest truth is I am awaiting a favorite distraction of mine.” He sipped his wine again. “I dare say they might even solve the lion’s share of your problems. Interested?” 

She hummed. Jaheira settled more comfortably in her chair. “Sing me your song, lovely bird. Perhaps…we may yet benefit one another.”

[katerinaaqu]

Hello :) firstly I wanted to say that I love your analyses and I love all the information and knowledge you’re able to give us, thank you soo much for that.

Secondly since you know so much especially about the odyssey and Odysseus and I’ve recently seen a post where you explained the calypso situation I wanted to ask if you’ve made such an in-depth analysis on the Circe situation? I’m convinced the whole thing wasn’t consensual but there are always ppl saying stuff like “what Hermes said isn’t important” “Circe was at his mercy when she asked him to do the deed with him so he tricked her into doing it” “Odysseus was invulnerable to her powers so that means he wasn’t in danger meaning he willingly slept with her” and since I haven’t read the odyssey in a while I wanted to ask you .

Tysm for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day

Hello and you are very sweet! I really feel happy you do enjoy them and I am also grateful to receive comments and thoughts from you under my work 🙏 it always means so much when people get interested in the ancient texts much more when they honor me with their trust on tye matter.

I believe you are referring to my latest answer then where I re-analyzed the Calypso matter.

OF COURSE I can! I would be happy and delighted to especially since their relationship is so complicated and fascinating to begin with. The way in which it evolves in a very interesting degree and the way both characters share common traits is also fascinating. Circe is called also wily or with tricks which also seems to correspond to the essence of Odysseus himself. A power couple no doubt. But indeed so misunderstood by the media and their interpretations.

So here goes sorry if this is long:

I find it so interesting how far selective interpretation goes 🤔 😆 I find it interesting that indeed there are people out there that read the passage where Hermes SPECIFICALLY mentions how Odysseus has no choice and say that "oh it doesn't matter really!" Hahaha so to be more precise the passage goes as such;

Then you shall not refuse the goddess's bed if you want her to release your comrades, and she shall offer entertainment to you

(Translation by me)

The passage is clear. Hermes tells Odysseus he has no choice but to accept the bed of Circe's if he wants to save his men and see them again in human form. I find it quite interesting that people ignore that or they claim it is unimportant to the plot. This is literally the reason why Odysseus is there. What is more I find the notion of the moly immunity funny because Circe was not a force to be reckoned with only with her magic. In fact Homer also writes afterwards;

However make her swear a sacred and great oath that she will have nothing else bad in store for you so that she won't hurt or unman you when she has you stripped naked.

(Translation by me)

Hermes clearly states that Circe does not need to turn him into an animal to be dangerous. In fact as someone else said before me, it almost seems like Circe might as well kill or castrate him while she has him naked and vulnerable. Hermes clearly states that Odysseus is not safe even if he is immune to her power at that specific moment. It also shows that Circe could harm him at every moment and the only reasons she didn't were this promise that he extracted from her and perhaps her own feelings for him (curiosity or other). Throughout the passage Odysseus was speaking on the fear he was feeling even from moment number one;

And she opened the fine doors calling me in and I followed her with a heavy and grieving heart

(Translation by me)

Odysseus was literally frightened. All the time. As he said he had a grieving heart (ἀκαχήμενος ἦτορ) and he continued to be distrustful of her and afraid even if he had extracted that oath from her.

However my heart could not be pleased for I was distracted as my mind was always thinking on dark thoughts

(Translation by me)

I adore how Homer uses the word ἀλλοφρονέων (=to think differently, to be distracted) but the word αλλόφρων also used in modern Greek to speak on someone who is mad or crazy and is also used as a phrase to indicate someone who is not just worried but someone crazy in fear. Odysseus has extracted the promise, he has accepted the attentive care of Circe and her handmaidens in the bath and he is now sat before a real feast and he is crazy in fear and doubt. His continuous sense of anxiety is obvious in the passage. So to say that Odysseus was just fine and that the whole adventure with Circe was a breeze and that he was safe against her just because he had eaten the Moly at that time seems to me funny since every part of the passage shows how he was afraid. What was more, there is no guarantee that the Moly would protect him forever from Circe's magic not to mention that as we said before, even without her magic Circe had plenty of aces up her sleeve starting from her animal entourage till a potent knife at the time that she had Odysseus under her mercy (thus the need for a promise on her part).

Also even if we say that Moly would keep him immune forever, what about his men? His men had not consumed Moly and it was obvious that the only reason that Odysseus was there was to rescue his men. What guarantee did he have that Circe wouldn't enchant his men again if he misbehaved? Quite frankly as I said above, Circe's likeness for his boldness or potentially his mind plus the oath he extracted from her seems to be the only thing that prevents Circe from using his men as hostages once more. Quite frankly the whole adventure with Circe was a very big hostage business. Odysseus was thinking on his men's safety (not to mention the rest of them waiting by the ship) apart from his own and as you see he was already very much afraid as it was.

I also find it interesting that the reason why Circe seems to be getting Odysseus immediately to her bed is that she knew he would come. Just like Polyphemus knew by a prophet that Odysseus would blind him (although she didn't know the nature of the person that would blind him) Circe says that she knew from Hermes that a certain Odysseus would arrive at her isle on his way back from Troy. So in one way someone to say that Circe was out of options seems at least funny as a notion. It seems that she knew who was coming she just didn't seem to know the conditions that would bring him there.

Now was Odysseus attracted to her?

In my opinion there is no doubt about it as he describes how beautiful Circe was. Would he consider to sleep with her if it weren't of Hermes's advice? In my opinion no. Odysseus would absolutely be finding Circe attractive given her beauty and her divine nature, which is no surprise there but finding attraction to one person and act on it are two different things. In my humble opinion I do not think that Odysseus would act according to that attraction. Would he be curious on the experience with an immortal goddess? Absolutely. He is a naturally curious person and he wants to gain knowledge from other experiences in his life. Would he act up that one? Again I think not.

The reason why I think so is that the essences of loyalty in marriage are not as cut and clean as we usually think of in modern times. True if we judge from Hera myths, it was not preferable for a man to have extramarital affairs but it was generally tolerated. Agamemnon speaks on the affairs he had and many others had affairs. Odysseus would have no reason to hide his actual attraction towards Circe (and he doesn't given how he does speak on her very warmly eventually). Throughout his narration he mentions many things negative about himself including but not restricted to; the conquest and enslavement of Ismarus, his mistake to insult God Poseidon, self-destructive thoughts, feeling of fear towards Circe or Calypso, his moments of sadness and isolation etc. All of these things would be considered embarrassing or even diminishing for him. Why would he hide affairs at a world that was more tolerant towards the affairs and instead say all these others that would make a king or a warrior embarrassed?

Now there is an interesting question of course as to why did Odysseus remain there for a year?

It is indeed food for thought to think about it because once his men were back to human form in theory he could leave right? That in my opinion is not cut and clean like that. For once he had to wait until his men were back to good health and spirits to travel and he might as well take advantage of Circe's hospitality to refill their batteries. However there is also the moment where in the Odyssey his men arrive personally and scold him that he forgot about their country and their homeland for the arms of Circe. So one can think indeed; did Odysseus indeed forget himself?

In my opinion it is possible. His men are not the only ones who wanted to refill their batteries. So was Odysseus. In fact he has MUCH MORE in his plate than the average human already. He has already been at war, he has the war crimes on his mind anyways and he has also witnessed most of his men dying in horrifying ways (Cicones, Polyphemus, Laestrigonians etc) and he has just witnessed the results of his actions as well with the Curse of Polyphemus and the way that the sack of Aeolus fiasco happened. Odysseus already was suffering a lot. Regardless of the fact that he was always afraid of her, the hospitality she offered was very much needed. He could rest and enjoy some safety of dry land for a change after everything he had been through and Circe kept her promise and was a very good hostess to them. Odysseus too needed that break. It is possible that he forgot himself at the care of Circe and quite frankly Circe seems to be also wishing to keep Odysseus by her side so she does seem to make it as easy as possible for him to stay.

So Odysseus enjoying some nice rest after so long, even in the arms of a goddess that scares him makes it cheating? In my opinion no. What is more it seems that the fear of Odysseus was always apparent. It seems that he was avoiding requesting from Circe to let them go the whole time. It almost felt like he was putting the whole thing off out of fear for her anger and refusal. He almost seemed to be gathering off the guts to tell her. When his men straight out demanded it he didn't seem to have a choice but to comply. So it shows how scared he was when he literally BEGGED Circe to let them go by falling on her knees.

And then I climbed onto Circe's beautiful bed and hugging her knees I begged her to set us free with a cry.

(Translation by me)

So basically Odysseus felt helpless before her and he had to do the employing ritual to her (you can see my other post about this ritual) so that he would be sure that Circe wouldn't refuse him or be angry at him. That same fear continued later for when he came back from the Underworld, he preferred to stay by the ships. He was literally brought back in by Circe herself who gave him some advice.

But while most part of the text in the Odyssey indeed implies the lack of free will or lack of options etc someone would think why would Odysseus be considered a cheater in the hands of Circe?

I think the answer lies to the general idea that many people have that we should consider Odysseus as an unreliable narrator and that all the details he lists are lies to cover his cheating.

Although as a logic seems to be very generalized, and it COULD hold some water in regards to some details, I still am not convinced as mention above that Odysseus is lying here. For starters he was already very emotional when speaking to the Phaeakes and an emotional Odysseus is the most honest Odysseus (we saw his emotions betraying him with Polyphemus, with his revelation with the Phaeakes or later with Penelope). Odysseus was already in a very strong emotional state so I do not think his narration is inherently doubtful. What is more, he does seem to have so many details in his narration about himself that are not positive about himself. He would have no reason to hide the specific one. And Odysseus mentions how Circe never had his heart before (see also my other answer here). I cannot find much of a reason for him to lie about that when he has literally admitted everything else that could paint him in an unpleasant light (especially his hubris with Polyphemus).

So to sum up yes I think he was being forced. His men were held hostage and he had to save them. Circe was never helpless regardless of the situation and she had many different ways to kill him if she wanted to. Would he be curious anyways? Absolutely. Would he act according to that curiosity? In that case I think not. He does say so himself and his imprisonment in Calypso's island in his narrative was supported by other characters and the poet so why would he lie for Circe either. One can definitely think about his emotions and how strong they would be about Circe but I think regardless of that, he wouldn't have necessarily act towards that curiosity given how his psychological state was originally

But I guess this is everyone's guess.

I hope this helps. It definitely it is up to you what you want to interpret and I will be happy to offer more passages inside the future reblogs and such! ^_^

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 10: Lingering Touch [C3]

Pairing: Judge Turpin x Fem!OC

POV: First, OC

Continuation of: Prompt 4. Darkest Night [C1], Prompt 8. Never-ending Consequences [C2]

A/N: It's Tuesday and I'm here with the next part of Turpin's story for this Rickmas and things are not at all going to plan it seems… 👀 I'm not gonna spoil anything for you darlings but we're definitely doing things different this time around 🙈

Anyway, I hope you'll have a good time reading and that December (or whatever month it is you're reading this) is treating you kindly. we are missing the snow and the cold over here and it doesn't at all feel right when December isn't accompanied by a banket of snow so… 😩 But, still, this month is quite good and fun - having had time to think about what I want to do for the rest of Rickmas and already having written tomorrows fic feels awesome 🤭👏

Tags/TW’s: Secret Pining, Instant Attraction, Harsh Judge Turpin, Gloomy Vibes, Dead Animals Mentioned (no details), Dead Character Mentioned (no details), Helpful Other Male Character, Other Character Flirting (light) With OC, Societal Differences

Word Count: 2.1k

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Lingering Touch

There was no end to the gloom it seemed. I had slept well, no complaints could be said about the lush bed and silky bedding. Yet, still, there was a dreadful gloom I simply could not defend myself against fully. “Dreary, so dreary. This place needs a Christmas tree,” I whispered to myself as I meandered around the parlour. “His Lordship does not celebrate Christmas, miss,” came the voice of the ageing maid. Turning rapidly, I found her in the doorway. “Christ, you startled me.” “Not my intention, miss.” She nodded at me in an apology yet her face did not change.

I patted down my dress, smiling brightly at the woman with strict features and a thin turkey neck — you have kind eyes, though. “Breakfast is served, miss. His Lordship will join you promptly at eight.” Her voice was as strict as her face. “Thank you,” I said. “No need to dawdle, I suppose. I shall seat myself so the great judge does not see me as an inconvenience, Mrs— Oh, forgive me, I do not know your name.” “Jenning. Mrs Jenning,” she said in one of those short, clipped voices ringing with a no-nonsense tone. I nodded. “Mrs Jennings, thank you.” Perhaps the gloom has gotten to her, I would be strict and the like if I were forced to be in a house like this day in and day out I suppose. Dreary, gloomy, dark and cold. Perhaps it is the faith's way of teaching me to be grateful for what I have, for my father’s home and how warm it has always been despite me being a burden on him at this age without prospects.

“Miss Brimmer?” Mrs Jenning said in a sort of rapped manner. She waited for me by the door, an air of impatience about her. “Sorry, lost in thought, I tend to do that from time to time. You know, the mind is a funny place to be sometimes. Do you not agree, Mrs Jenning?” I asked in an upbeat manner to alleviate the sense of dread the house cast over me while walking toward her with my pale blue dress swishing.

Mrs Jennings looked at me funnily. “Funny place?” she asked, almost too quietly for me to hear. “Funny place, so much goes on up there at times I—” “Talkative, are we?” came the deep rumble of the judge himself. My breath stuttered and Mrs Jenning stiffened further, however that was possible. “My lord, breakfast is served,” she said as we both turned toward the man coming down the stairs. “Good morning, my lord.” I curtsied. “I hope you slept well, I had the most wonderful rest in such a soft bed as you offered. And in such a grand room, too, sir,” I continued as he stepped down the final step.

Judge Turpin arched a brow at me and even though his eyes were unyielding and harsh as steel just like yesterday the look had me feeling some type of way. I was not certain of the type of tingling travelling all through my body yet it was not one of discomfort. It ought to be, really ought to be, those eyes are not friendly. Striking. But not friendly.

“Yes, talkative, indeed,” he drawled while looking down at me with a flicker of his eyes down my dress and then back to my eyes once more. A small sneer tugged at his lips and I felt heat creep up along my neck and throat. A judge who judges, well, I am under-dressed in such fine company. Grand but gloomy, too bad really. This is a fine house and an even finer man if one but disregards the gloom and the dread, the chill and the lifeless— Well, one must disregard plenty of things, apparently. And despite that thought, I had no issue disregarding all the warnings and negative sensations when his steely eyes held mine and that thunderous voice filled the space, ordering us all to sit down for breakfast a mere second before the clock in the hallway chimed eight.

Mrs Jennings served coffee to the judge and then poured my cup which I added a heap of sugar to as always. The man arched a brow at me by the third spoon of the white goodness so I stopped despite always having four spoons of it in the dark brew. I stirred as he opened the day’s paper.

“Oh, this is wonderful,” I said as I looked out over the table filled with bread, fruits, cheeses and meats of a large variation. “I have never had such a breakfast before. Such variations and abundance. Gosh, what am I to eat out of all this?” I looked all over the table and I could not make a choice. The judge merely sipped his coffee behind the paper.

“Meats? No, well, with bread and cheese perhaps? Are those grapes? In December? Gosh, what do I—” The paper was lowered and cold eyes glared at me. “Are you… ever quiet?” he asked and my stomach knotted under his harsh words, void of all warmth and lacking even a bit of its humanity. I tilted my head, scrunching my brows at the scary man I couldn’t stop feeling this strange fluttering for. I do enjoy a grump… I have always adored those with little apparent joy, those honest and harsh ones who never really are allowed to— Stop, focus, Julianne. No losing yourself in your head now.

“Well?” he drawled, waiting for my reply. “I can be.” When… If sad… then I am quite quiet. “But I want to thank you, and express my gratitude as well as appreciation for the grandeur of your home, and life, sir.” I could not take my eyes off the man with a hooked, regal nose and features I wished to smooth out with my thumb for some reason. His slightly stubbly chin had my fingers tingling. This is all so odd. He’s scary, yet I’m— I’m tingly when having his attention? I truly must have hit my head badly, even if I tend to befriend those grumpy and dreary to brighten their days this is far different, is it not? He huffed. “Consider yourself expressed, Miss Brimmer.”

I lowered my gaze, not speaking another word for the time being. I simply took a slice of fresh bread, added a slice of cheese and placed five grapes on my plate. We ate in silence but I could feel him take not-so-subtle glances of me, just as I stole far more subtle glances of him when he was busy with his own food and drink.

“Now, Miss Brimmer,” he suddenly spoke up and I looked up from the empty cup I held in my stiff fingers. “I am departing for the court, I shall order a constable to arrive here and escort you back to your carriage.” That’s— That’s it? Well, to be left with this utterly strange sensation and wish to know this stoic man deeper is rather unpleasant. Oh, hush, Julianne. You are far beneath such a grand man, he is out of your reach. Remember that. “Thank you, sir.” It was all I could say, my voice far quieter than before.

He stood, nodded harshly at me, and left with long strides which echoed through the room. I slowly rose, looking upon all the leftover food from the large breakfast. I hope he offers it to his staff and then those in need after that. Such a waste, and I could not even manage more than one slice with my stomach in this-, this-, this knotted state.

I moved out of the room, seeing the door close after a mere glimpse of the edge of his thick coat. “Miss Brimmer,” said Mrs Jenning. “I shall pack a bit of food for your journey.” “Oh, why thank you, that’s very kind of you,” I said with a smile as I was jolted back into my usual self. “Shall I help?” “No, Miss Brimmer.” It was another clipped wording but she was not being unpleasant toward me. “I shall wait here, then. In the lack of Christmas decorum and quiet…” The last part was barely audible, it merely slipped out. “Make yourself comfortable, despite the lack of holiday cheer…” she said calmly. “But his Lordship will not allow you to wait long for a constable, I dare say in this instance.”

⁛•⁛

Mrs Jenning had been right. It took but a few minutes before a constable came knocking, with a horse and a nice carriage drawn by a well-dressed coachman. I had been sent off with a packed brunch as well as a new scarf wrapped around my neck of the softest cotton.

Now, the carriage stopped by my toppled one. My stomach turned on itself as the scene was laid bare with a thin layer of snow covering some of it. The horses I had shot to end their misery lay frozen with the gun hidden completely under snow between their large heads. The coachman, crushed between the carriage and the ground, lay face down and stiff. Dead.

My shoulders shook as the constable walked around the site. Yesterday, in the dark, it had not looked so scary and my actions had not felt so final. Now, looking at the horses shot by my hand — no matter what reason — had me clutching my cloak closer to ward off the discomfort.

“Miss, shall I climb inside for you?” I glanced at him, offering a thankful smile. “Would you, Constable Greer?” He smiled in return. “Certainly, miss. A fine woman as yourself should not climb toppled carriages.” Then he pulled himself atop the carriage and opened the door I had managed to climb out of after having been thrown about inside of it.

Constable Greer was a nice gentleman, the thirty minutes we had spent in the carriage had started off quiet and stiff but things never remained in that manner for long once I started talking. It did, most of the time, land me in some form of predicament of the negative kind but Constable Greer turned out to be a rather pleasant man and he had a nice laugh as well. Like myself, he had come from outside of London, but he came for work years ago where I had come due to the need for a husband.

After a few minutes, we had gotten my possessions out of the carriage and loosened the trunk strapped to the back of the carriage as well. Constable Greer had strapped it to the carriage procured by Judge Turpin and asked me to sit down inside while he finished up. Once he was inside I thanked him and we set off toward London once more. We could do nothing about the rest for the moment but would be sending a few men to fetch everything left — including the dead — once a storm was not brewing above the trees around us.

Despite the very pleasant company and shared laughs I could not help but wander back to the stoic and harsh Judge Turpin with his steely eyes and rigid posture. Nor could I stop the slight sadness at knowing I would most likely never see the man again. He had not been particularly kind toward me, but he had offered aid, shelter, and food even though he had not been obligated to do so. I shall be thankful for the little moments I was offered with him. Another trial to add to the ever-growing list of never-ending consequences of that infernal bad luck. Black cat energy, perhaps I was cursed as a child? One never knows, I suppose.

“…are you, Miss Brimmer?” Constable Greer asked just as the carriage stopped outside the Rosemary Inn. My cheeks warmed with embarrassment as I had gotten myself lost in my errant thoughts once more. “I apologize, Constable, I missed your words.” He chuckled. “Will you attend the Christmas Ball, Miss Brimmer?” “Oh, why yes, that is my purpose of this visit.” He glanced down at the hat in his hands. “Well, I-, I shall see you there, then?” I blinked, a small smile tugging my lips. “You shall, Constable Greer,” I replied with a softened voice as the man’s sweet blue eyes glanced at me before he left the carriage and offered his hand.

I reached out and he grasped me, yet my mind flashed with the sturdy grip of Judge Turpin and the steely grey eyes that had held my gaze unwaveringly. The sturdiness of his grip contrasted with the softer of the constable and as I stepped out the younger man did not linger in his hold as the judge had done for a few seconds as I straightened. He is far, far, faaar out of your reach! Let it go. There can be only further hardships laid in my path if I linger at thoughts of such a man as Judge Turpin…

To Be Continued...

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

NEXT PART » Prompt 14: Deceptive Kindness [C4]

A/N: Well well well, another man enters the equation, let's hope our dear judge steps up his game and actually does something about this whole mess of secret pining and hidden feelings 👀 What do you think? Will she end up at the ball or will something happen along the way to get her back to our stoic judge?

Side Note: I'm behind as all frikk-frakk on reading Rickmas fics - I'm doing my best but today I'm emergency BETA reading for an author friend whose BETA readers mostly flaked on her last minute (😤) so I'll be more behind but she really needs my support and help so I'm sorry lovelies I gotta step up and read her book today (which also happens to be fantastic, mind you) as she's gonna start editing tonight.

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @dontwanttobeanamercanidiot @sunnylikesfrogs @dianilaws @snapesno1thighrider @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @leah1243 @cherihan @poetry-and-tea @evans23 @mamawolfsmith87 @snapesrn @severussimp @slyckman @liv2post @clawsthecactus @goldenglowwoman @elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102 @ankhmutes @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @thatlittlefangirl @ankhmutes @lessdepressy @snapesrn @theheartwants-what-itwants @slyckman @daddythanatos @sanji-simp

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[galacticstationsblog]

A Playful Land book 3 rewrite with My ocs

Night had fully fallen over Playful Land, casting a soft, dreamlike glow across the park’s attractions. The group of NRC scholars stood in the quiet plaza, the gentle lighting from colorful lamp posts casting a warm glow on their tired, smiling faces. They looked worn out but content, basking in the thrill of a day spent exploring the park.

“Whew… What. A. Day!”Ace exclaimed, stretching his arms above his head and rolling his shoulders. His face was flushed with exhilaration and just a touch of exhaustion.

“I can’t believe it’s this dark already. We really played from sunup to sunset! The rollercoaster you mentioned, and that pool hall Ortho recommended—they were both super fun!” Kalim chimed in, eyes wide with lingering excitement as he recalled the day’s highlights.

Ortho nodded, his eyes glowing faintly in the dim light as he shared his own favorite moments. “I was surprised at how fascinating the Seafloor Stroll was! It was also amazing riding the Ferris wheel with you and Yuki too!”

One by one, the group shared their joy, recounting favorite moments from the day. Even those who had initially been skeptical of the trip admitted they’d had a fantastic time. However, as the energy began to settle, a few students mentioned they were ready to head back, fatigue finally overtaking their excitement.

“Aww, are we leavin’ already? I wanted to play some more…” Grim whined, his ears drooping as his tail flicked in disappointment.

Ace shook his head, though he couldn’t help but grin at Grim’s enthusiasm. “I get it, but we REALLY gotta get back. If I’m not back at my dorm before lights-out, no amount of covering from Trey and Cater is gonna save me.” Despite his words, there was a lighthearted glint in his eye. Kneeling down, he gave Grim a reassuring smile. “If you haven’t had enough, we can always come back tomorrow.”

Grim’s face immediately brightened, his ears perking up as he grinned from ear to ear. “Ooh! I like the sound of that. I’m in!”

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Yuki murmured, a soft smile on their face.

“Right? We can just ask Fellow for more tickets, and… Uh… say, where is Fellow, anyway?” Ace asked, glancing around the now-empty plaza.

“I haven’t seen him since the show ended. How about the rest of you?” Ortho’s face held a slight frown as he scanned the area.

“Ditto. Haven’t seen him or Gidel,” Leona added, crossing his arms as he looked around with a slight hint of suspicion.

Lilia raised an eyebrow, looking thoughtful. “It would be rude to leave without thanking Fellow for his generous hospitality. Let’s all look for him, shall we?”

The group began to disperse in search of the elusive fox-like man who had orchestrated their magical day. But as they spread out, Via quietly approached Yuki and Grim, tapping Yuki’s shoulder and Grim’s hat to catch their attention.

“Hey, before we look for Fellow, there’s something I want to show you two. It’s… work-related,” she said with a mysterious glint in her eye, gesturing to a nearby tent. Her tone was calm, but her choice of words made Yuki and Grim exchange a quick, knowing glance. “Work-related” was code for—possibly something linked to the strange occurrences they’d encountered in the past, or perhaps information that could unlock some secrets.

Grim, intrigued, bolted over to Via without a second thought, his excitement barely contained. Yuki hesitated, glancing at the others. But with a deep breath, they slipped away, joining Via and Grim as they entered the tent. besides They did promise to keep Via’s “other job” a secret, it's not like anything bad would happen if They separated from the group for a while.

Inside, the atmosphere was both whimsical and eerie. Colorful boxes stacked high around them, while puppets of all shapes and sizes seemed to stare down from every angle. Some puppets resemble humans, others animals, and a few even took on the forms of mythical creatures. They appeared frozen mid-performance, as though waiting for an unseen puppeteer to bring them to life. Grim’s curiosity got the better of him, and he hopped onto one of the boxes, pawing at the nearest puppet with wide eyes.

Yuki, however, noticed a box filled to the brim with tickets that looked identical to the ones they’d been given at the start of the day.

“Hey, those look like the tickets that Fellow guy gave us—the ones that gave us unlimited access to the park!” Grim peered over Yuki’s shoulder, his tone a mix of excitement and confusion.

“I thought Fellow said these were limited…” Yuki murmured, frowning as they rifled through the box. Each ticket was marked the same as theirs—unlimited access—but there wasn’t a single “regular” ticket among them.

“Is this what you wanted to show us, Via?” Grim asked, sounding slightly disappointed it wasn’t a discovery involving food. But when he received no response, he and Yuki turned to find Via peeking through a slit in the tent’s curtain, her expression serious and her gaze intense.

“What are you looking at—” Yuki began, but a sudden, loud noise cut them off, causing them to jump. The sound reverberated from outside the tent, sharp and metallic, like something heavy slamming into a wall. Grim’s fur puffed up as he clung to Yuki.

“MRAH?! WHAT WAS THAT?!?” he shrieked.

Heart racing, Yuki scooped Grim into their arms and hurried to Via’s side. Crouching down, they peered out of the tent, their eyes adjusting to the dimly lit scene outside.

At the entrance to the plaza, Jade and Lilia were furiously blasting spells at a massive metal door that had somehow appeared, blocking their exit. Heavy, intimidating locks and chains crisscrossed the doorway, sealing it shut. The locks glowed faintly, suggesting some sort of enchanted barrier.

Via’s eyes narrowed as she whispered to Yuki, her voice barely audible, “Looks like we might be staying longer than planned…”

…

As the enchanted blasts collided with the metal door, sparks erupted and the chains rattled violently, filling the air with sharp, metallic clangs that echoed through the quiet plaza. Ace stood a few paces back, watching in shock as Jade and Lilia took turns blasting the door without a hint of hesitation.

“Guys, come on! No need to go that far!” he shouted, his eyes wide as he watched another magical explosion strike the heavy barrier, sending a ripple of energy through the air.

Lilia looked over his shoulder at Ace, still smiling as if they were in the middle of a friendly sparring match. “Don’t be silly. When you sense danger, you should act immediately. That’s the key to survival.” Without missing a beat, he turned back to the door and fired off another blast, the vivid green light of his magic illuminating his face.

Jade chuckled, his usually calm demeanor replaced with a wicked glint in his eyes. “I’m not a fan of brute force myself, but sometimes sacrifices must be made.” He raised his hand, his magic coiling into a blue glow before he sent it forward in a powerful surge, causing another resounding crash against the barrier.

“As loath as I am to resort to this,” Lilia added, his tone unusually serious yet unmistakably amused, “it’s the only way to ensure we return to school in a timely manner!” With that, he unleashed a larger blast, the magic twisting and spiraling as it struck the door with a thunderous impact. The door shuddered, yet the chains held tight, refusing to budge.

Vil, who had been watching the chaos with arms crossed and a slight frown, sighed and shook his head. “Please, you two are both having a field day, and you know it. Don’t come crying to us when the park sends you the repair bill.”

Ace groaned, his hand running through his hair as he took in the chaos. “This is getting out of hand… Are you doing alright, Yuki—”

But as he turned, his voice faltered. Yuki wasn’t by his side. He glanced around, expecting to spot them just a few steps away, but Yuki was nowhere in sight. Grim, too, was missing, as was Via. Ace’s heart skipped a beat, a strange sense of dread creeping in as he scanned the group, trying to recall the last time he’d seen them.

“Wait… Where’s Yuki? And Grim? And…Via” His voice trailed off as the realization hit him fully, the chill of worry settling over him.

The sudden realization that Yuki, Grim, and Via were missing sent a ripple of tension through the group, concern etched on their faces.

“What do you mean they’re not here? They were just with us,” Carter said, his brow furrowing.

“They might have just wandered off,” Trey suggested, trying to keep his tone calm, though a flicker of worry passed over his face. “Maybe they went to use the restroom or something.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it,” Kalim agreed, trying to sound cheerful, but his gaze darted anxiously around the eerily quiet amusement park. “They’ll be back any minute!”

“Or maybe they got lost?” Floyd offered with a smirk, though even his usual playful demeanor seemed subdued. “You know how those three can be.”

“Don’t joke about that!” Jack snapped, his voice edged with concern. “What if something really happened to them?”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Vil interjected sharply, his expression stern. “They could just be delayed. We can’t lose our heads over this.”

“But what if they didn’t take the right path?” Ortho added, his usually calm voice tinged with worry. “They could be wandering around, looking for us.”

“Or maybe Grim got distracted by something shiny, and Yuki and Via had to chase after him,” Leona muttered, crossing his arms, though his usual sarcasm held a hint of worry.

Before they could speculate further, a loud explosion echoed behind them, followed by the clatter of metal as a heavy lock fell to the ground.

“Whew… That’s one lock busted,” Lilia announced, straightening up as he caught his breath.

“These locks are incredibly sturdy,” Jade added, examining one closely. “Are they made from some kind of anti-magic material?”

Just then, his body suddenly went stiff, his expression frozen mid-sentence. Lilia slumped over next to him, both of them clutching their faces as they groaned in pain. The rest of the group hurried over, concern etched on their faces.

“Jade, Lilia, are you okay?” Ace asked, his voice laced with alarm. “You both look like you’re in a lot of pain…”

As they got closer, the group noticed something strange—a half-mask, resembling twisted wood, had appeared on each of their faces.

“Ugh. What’s up with your face, Jade?” Floyd remarked, sounding half-annoyed, half-concerned. “You’ve got some kinda weird branch stuck to it.”

“You do too, Lilia!” Cater exclaimed, his eyes wide.

Ace crossed his arms, trying to mask his worry with a smirk. “All right, come on, you two—where’d you get those things? I was worried when you both started groaning, but let me guess: you’re just trying to give us a good scare, aren’t you?”

“Oooh! So that’s what’s going on!” Kalim grinned, relief flooding his face. “You had me going for a second! That’s a neat accessory. Can I try it on—?”

“I can’t move!” Jade’s voice came out strained, panic edging his usually calm tone. His body seemed completely rigid.

“Nor can I!” Lilia managed through gritted teeth. “It’s as if… my body isn’t my own.”

The group’s casual amusement vanished, replaced by a collective wave of alarm.

“WHAT?!” The realization struck them all, deepening their concern and confusion. First, the once-busy amusement park had become a ghost town; now, locks barred the exits, and their friends were frozen in place with strange, immovable masks.

“Okay, enough with the jokes. I’m taking that ridiculous thing off you,” Leona said, his patience finally snapping as he reached out toward Lilia’s mask.

“Wait!” Ortho stepped forward, his face serious as he scanned the masks with a soft whirring noise. “I just ran a scan… That wood isn’t just affixed to their skin. It’s actually rooted in their faces. If you try to pull it off, you could seriously hurt them!”

“What do you mean ‘rooted’ in their faces?” Leona demanded, his voice sharp as he withdrew his hand.

Before they could fully process this, the sound of footsteps echoed from the nearby walkway. Two figures stepped into view: a tall beastman with a cunning glint in his eyes, and a shorter, broad-shouldered beastman following close behind. It was none other than Fellow Honest, the notorious manager of Playful Land, and his loyal assistant, Gidel.

“My, my,” Fellow greeted them with a sly smile, crossing his arms as he looked them over. “So this is where you young scholars scuttled off to.”

The group looked at him with a mix of hope and suspicion. Despite his unsettling demeanor, he was an authority figure here. Maybe he could help.

“Ah, Fellow! You came at a good time,” Kalim said quickly, his voice filled with worry. “Can you help us? Jade and Lilia are in serious trouble! They’ve got this weird wood growing out of their faces, and we can’t pull it off!”

“Oh dear. How terrible!” Fellow said with an exaggerated frown. He turned to Gidel and snapped his fingers. “Quick, Gidel! The notebook!”

Gidel nodded and produced a notebook, stepping over to inspect Jade and Lilia while scribbling down notes. The two beastmen examined the masks with exaggerated concern.

“…Hmm,” Fellow finally said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Just as I thought. I’m afraid it’s too late.”

The group’s eyes widened, panic rising. “Too late?” Cater echoed, his voice shaking. “What do you mean, ‘too late’?!”

Kalim took a step forward, desperation in his eyes. “Don’t say that! Please, you have to help them!”

Fellow’s face twisted into a sneer, his faux-concern fading as he spoke in a darker, more mocking tone. “Do I, now? But I thought you all were having a splendid time here in Playful Land. Skipping school, ignoring the warnings of those around you…” He leaned in, his eyes glinting maliciously. “And only now that you’re in trouble, you start having second thoughts?”

His words sent a chill through the group. The friendly amusement park manager they’d met was gone, replaced by someone cruel and twisted.

“…It’s too late for that, you little twerps!” Fellow snapped, his smile stretching into a sinister grin.

The group’s expressions shifted to shock, a creeping horror settling over them as the truth began to dawn.

…

Hidden in the shadows, Via, Grim, and Yuki watched the tense scene unfold as Fellow Honest sneered at the group, the sinister glint in his eyes revealing his true intentions.

“So I was right… he really is a wolf in sheep’s clothing…” Via muttered, her voice low as she took in the scene. “…Well, a fox in sheep’s clothing, but you get the point.”

Beside her, Grim’s eyes blazed with indignation. “You mean to tell me this whole time Fellow had played us?! Grrr, that jerk! How dare he make a fool out of the great Grim!” he huffed, his fur bristling with fury as his tail lashed back and forth.

Yuki, who had been silent, looked down, the weight of realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. “I can’t believe it… we fell for a trap… an obvious one, at that.” She bit her lip, feeling a surge of shame. The signs had been there all along—Fellow’s smooth-talking, the strangely empty park, the odd rules… How had she missed it? She should have been more cautious, more aware.

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted when she felt a gentle pat on her head. She glanced up to see Via giving her an encouraging smile.

“Hey, you shouldn’t blame yourself, Yuki,” Via said softly. “After everything you’ve been through back at school, an offer like this—a day at an amusement park, free of charge—anyone would be tempted. Even I couldn’t resist.” She gave a small, rueful laugh. “Besides, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to enjoy a place like this without having to pay for anything?”

Yuki managed a small smile in return, but the nagging guilt didn’t completely leave her. Her gaze shifted back to the group just in time to see the gang running off while being chased by Puppets dress as policemen,

“Seems like now it’s the best time to reunite with the group” Via States as she walk off to the other side of the tent, Pulling out her wand like brush to create a door that could hopefully lead them to where the other could be hiding while Grim and Yuki followed behind, But suddenly Via stops in her tracks and looks at Yuki and Grim.

“If they ask for our whereabouts…just say we got pulled away by a group of puppets but managed to escape..” Via suggested Causing both The Prefect and Cat to Nod as the continued their way to head back to the group

…

The group huddled in the dim alley, panting from their desperate escape from the relentless puppet police.

“I… I think we’re finally rid of them,” Carter gasped, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

“Geez Louise, those puppets just wouldn’t let up…! We kept shaking them off, and they just kept coming back,” Ace complained, wiping sweat from his brow. He turned to Ortho, suspicion edging his voice. “Those were all the puppets that we saw working here, huh?”

Ortho nodded, looking equally rattled. “Yeah. They turned aggressive so suddenly…”

Suddenly, a shrill, blood-curdling scream echoed through the park, startling the group. Peeking out from the alley, they saw a horrifying sight—people being chased down by puppets or, even worse, transforming into puppets themselves as they begged and pleaded to go home.

“It’s the other visitors,” Ortho said, his voice shaking. “Their bodies are being covered in wood… They’re turning into puppets!”

Jack’s eyes widened. “That would explain why the park seemed so empty…”

Leona scowled, crossing his arms. “Looks like they’ve already turned everyone else into puppets and hauled ’em off.”

Ace’s stomach twisted as a chilling thought struck him, one he couldn’t ignore. His voice wavered as he turned to the others. “Guys… you don’t think Yuki and the others… were…”

But before his dreadful thought could fully take shape, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“Oh, thank the Seven, I found you guys!” Via called from the end of the alley, stepping out from what looked like a door drawn onto the wall. Relief flooded her face as she waved, and behind her, Yuki and Grim followed.

The group spun around at the sound of Via’s voice, each expression morphing from shock to relief as they took in the sight of their friends, safe and sound.

“You guys!” Ace blurted, his voice tinged with both exasperation and relief. “Where have you been? We thought—”

“We thought you were turned into puppets too,” Jack finished, his usual cool demeanor slipping just a little as he gave them a quick once-over, ensuring they were truly unharmed.

Grim puffed out his chest, brushing off the concern with a dramatic huff. “Hah! As if some wooden goons could catch the great Grim! We just had a… minor detour.” He cast a sideways glance at Via, who simply smiled and nodded as if to confirm his story.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Via said, quickly filling in the blanks. “We got pulled aside by a group of those puppet police. But we managed to escape before things got out of hand.”

Ace narrowed his eyes, not entirely convinced. “And you just happened to find a door that led right to us?”

Via grinned and tapped her wand-like brush. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve. Now’s not the time to question good luck, right?”

Leona scoffed, folding his arms. “Whatever. We don’t have time for explanations anyway.” His gaze shifted to the chaos unfolding around them as more screams echoed through the park. “This whole place is falling apart. We need to get out of here before we’re next.”

“Yeah, but there’s not much we can do, especially without a phone signal…” Carter sighed, glancing down at the phone in his hand, the screen stubbornly displaying ‘No Service.’

“I wish we could contact the school. Getting caught cutting class is definitely the least of our concerns now!” Ace chimed in, his frustration palpable as he fumbled with his own phone, hoping for a miracle that never came.

“Okay, I can try hacking into the park’s network,” Ortho offered, his brows furrowed in concentration. He closed his eyes as virtually screens appeared around him, begging the process of entering through the network. For a moment, the group held their breath, but then—

A loud alarm blared through the park, causing everyone to jump. Ortho’s eyes snapped open, bewildered. “Huh? I failed to get in? ME?” He glared at the virtual screen as if it were the source of his betrayal. He tried again, but each attempt was met with an error message that only seemed to grow more frequent and frantic. “This is weird. I keep getting kicked off. It’s like there’s a powerful jammer set up somewhere in this park.”

“Ah, geez… That means we can’t get through to anyone on the outside!” Jack exclaimed, his voice rising in panic.

“Tch. Guess they’ve covered their bases to ensure no inconvenient intel makes it out of here,” Leona added, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, his expression darkening.

“So uh, I’ve got some other bad news on top of the whole communication thing,” Floyd said, his tone grave as he joined the group. “There were seabirds flying around earlier today, but now there ain’t any. I think the park’s on the move.”

“Huh?” The entire group echoed, disbelief spreading across their faces.

“I’ll go look over the wall with Leona and Via. You boys wait here—and stay hidden,” Floyd instructed, his expression resolute.

Leona and Via nodded in agreement, and together, the three of them approached the tall, barricaded wall that surrounded the amusement park. They climbed up to get a better view of what lay beyond, and as they peered over the edge, their hearts sank at the sight that greeted them.

The port of Sage Island was no longer visible. Instead, a vast, unsettling expanse of water stretched out before them, churning ominously beneath a murky sky. No land in sight, only the eerie solitude of the ocean.

“Bad news, all right,” Leona muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he climbed back down. “Floyd called it. The playful land’s present location is… in the middle of the ocean.”

“The middle of the ocean?!” Ortho and Jack exclaimed in unison, their voices filled with shock.

“Yeah, there’s no sign of land, which can only mean that the park is currently at a Nemo point…” Via explained, tugging nervously at the ribbons of her attire, her eyes wide with worry.

“The park may have departed Sage’s Island the instant we set foot through the gate,” Vil added, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

“Seriously?! We’ve been totally played!” Ace shouted, his frustration boiling over as he ran a hand through his hair.

“That’s what I said!!” Grim chimed in angrily, his fur bristling at the revelation.

“By the time visitors realize something’s wrong, they’ve been cut off from the outside world. The park’s long gone, and the only thing the rest of the world sees are all the fun pictures and posts about it…” Ace continued, his mind racing as he began to piece everything together. “No wonder people call this place illusionary!”

“It’s a trap disguised as a fun getaway…” Yuki added, her voice trembling slightly as she looked around nervously, the enormity of their predicament sinking in.

“Considering how slick this whole setup is, whoever’s the mastermind behind it must be an old hand at this,” Trey remarked, his brow furrowing in thought. “What do we do now?”

A heavy silence fell over the group as they processed the gravity of their situation. The laughter and joy that once filled the park now felt like a distant memory, replaced by an unsettling atmosphere thick with tension. They were in a race against time, trapped in a place designed to lure them in and keep them away from the outside world. Each of them could feel the weight of their choices pressing down on them, urging them to act before it was too late.

The sudden crackle of static filled the air, silencing the chatter and hustle of the bustling theme park. Overhead, the PA system came alive with a loud hum, and an all-too-familiar voice echoed through the park. The group of students froze in their tracks, listening as the voice began to speak.

“May we have your attention, please? This is a lost child announcement!”

“That voice… Fellow?!” Kalim’s eyes widened as he recognized the mocking tone, his finger pointing up toward the speakers in disbelief.

“It’s coming from the PA. He must be broadcasting it across the whole park,” Jack growled, his fur bristling as he clenched his fists.

Fellow’s voice resumed, dripping with mockery, “Paging the simpleton students from Night Raven College. Attention, simpleton students…”

A pause followed, long enough for them to feel a surge of irritation rising. Then, in a singsong voice, Fellow continued, “Your friends are waiting for youuu! ‘Oh, I’m so lonely! Oh, I’m so scared!’ They’re crying ever so pitifully as they wait for you to come get them! I can assure you, it’s quite obnoxious to listen to, so come get them soooon! Ha ha ha ha ha!” His laughter filled the air, sharp and cruel, and it only fueled the anger simmering among the group.

The group exchanged glances, each face reflecting the same mix of annoyance and frustration.

“Ahem… Anyway, you precious little darlings have nowhere to run or hide as long as you’re our guest in Playful Land,” Fellow’s voice continued, his tone shifting into something coldly mocking. “You can make this a lot easier on yourselves by giving up this pointless show of resistance and turning yourselves in quietly. This has been a public service announcement courtesy of the friendly Fellow Honest. I hope you continue to enjoy your time in Playful Land. Hah hahahahahaha…!”

With one final laugh, the announcement ended, leaving the group in heavy silence, the mocking echo of his laughter still hanging in the air.

That jerk…

Jack clenched his teeth, his fist raised as he growled out, “He’s going out of his way to get under our skin!”

“Was that entire speech just his way of taunting us? The nerve!” Vil’s voice was laced with irritation, his eyes narrowing in disgust.

“I wish I could put the squeeze on botha those guys right now…” Floyd’s smile twisted into something dark and threatening, his gaze unfocused as if imagining the ways he could make them pay.

Ortho, eyes glowing with determination, suddenly piped up, “And I wish I could fry them with my beam!”

Before anyone could respond, Kalim raised a hand, looking troubled. “But, but… I don’t get it…” His brows knitted together with genuine concern. “Why does Fellow want to turn us into puppets?”

Ace rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Who knows? Sitting around and overthinking isn’t going to help us.” His gaze sharpened, his tone snapping with resolve. “Right now, we’ve got one job, right?”

Kalim’s face lit up, clearly inspired. “Ah… yeah, you’re totally right!” A determined smile spread across his face. “Let’s go see Fellow and talk him out of this!”

“NOT THAT!” Ace’s shout rang out as he stared at Kalim with an expression that screamed, Are you for real right now?!

Via stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Kalim’s shoulder, a comforting yet serious look on her face. “I’m sure under normal circumstances, talking sense into someone might work, but considering the threat of our situation… peace is not an option right now.”

“Via’s right,” Ace said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, if we tried to talk it out, he’d just capture us and go on gloating about what stupid twerps we are, ‘Ha ha ha,’ so on and so forth.” A mischievous smirk crept onto Ace’s face. “What I MEANT was…” His grin grew wider, dark with intent. “We find Fellow and give him a royal beatdown.”

“What?! A beatdown?!” Kalim’s eyes went wide, looking at Ace with shock.

“Yeah. We beat him up until he swears to take us back to Sage’s Island.” Ace’s grin didn’t waver, his eyes flashing with a mischievous glint.

Trey let out a sigh, though he couldn’t help a small smile. “I had a feeling that was your angle.” But his face grew serious as he looked at Ace. “Are you sure, though? We could theoretically use flight magic to escape. From a group safety standpoint, it might be smarter to explore ways to get out…”

Ortho shook his head, his expression grave. “Fellow’s an extremely thorough con artist. I’d bet he’s already got some plan if we try to escape by air. He might have traps set up overhead.” His gaze shifted to Grim, who was clutching a half-empty popcorn bucket. “Grim, could I borrow that popcorn bucket you’re carrying?”

“Mrah!?! But I’m not done with it yet!” Grim held the bucket close, looking horrified.

Ortho sighed, and Yuki gave Grim a small nudge, her expression slightly annoyed. “…We’re in a dire situation here. Please, just give him the bucket.”

With a grumble, Grim cast a mournful look at his beloved snack, then reluctantly handed it over. Ortho took the bucket, then without hesitation, flung it high into the air. In a flash, the bucket exploded into a burst of sparks, sending popcorn debris raining down as the group gaped in shock.

“MY POPCORN!” Grim shrieked, his little paws reaching toward the remnants of his treat. He tried to lunge forward, but Via and Yuki held him back as he sobbed into Yuki’s shoulder. She gently patted him, trying to soothe his outrage.

“We’ll get you more popcorn later, Grim, I promise,” Via said, her tone gentle, though her eyes glinting with frustration at the situation.

Ortho looked around at the group, expression steely. “See? I knew it. A ship this large going unnoticed for so long doesn’t make sense. There could be some kind of cognitive interference magic at play… Which means if we leave, it could be nearly impossible to find our way back here. We might never see Lilia or Jade again.”

A heavy silence settled over the group, the weight of their situation pressing down on them.

“But more to the point—that guy trashed us,” Ortho added, his eyes hardening. “Why would we run away without challenging him? That would be like admitting defeat. I’d never do that!”

“Yeah, huh? I ain’t about to turn tail and run from some small fry like that fox fish,” Floyd said with a wicked grin.

“Heh, you have a point,” Vil agreed, a faint smirk crossing his face. “We should make him rue the day he chose to mess with us.”

“The last thing I need is for some twisted magic to turn me into a wooden doll…” Leona muttered, his sharp gaze calculating. “But seeing as he’s holding others hostage, he might not be able to turn people into puppets at will. So let’s be cautious here—then nail that fox. That’s probably the best play.”

“Yessir. He’s got some payback coming,” Jack stated, his eyes burning with determination.

Cater nodded, chuckling nervously. “Hoo boy… sounds like you’re all in on this. Guess we’d better buckle down.”

“Good grief…” Trey murmured, adjusting his glasses as he regarded the group with a resigned expression. “If you’re all aware of the danger and willing to go forward anyway, I won’t stop you. And honestly? I’m not too fond of backing down from a fight either.”

Via, usually calm and collected, flashed a slightly wicked smile. “I may be a nurse, but I can make an exception and turn the other cheek.”

“So we’re gonna give Fellow a royal beatdown, huh…” Kalim’s brow furrowed, his voice wavering slightly as uncertainty flickered in his eyes. “Hmm… I still don’t get it, but that’s the best way to rescue Lilia and Jade… right?”

“Yeah,” Ortho replied, his tone steady and reassuring. “If we want to make sure everyone gets out safe and sound, this is the optimal choice.” He stood tall, radiating confidence despite the looming threat they faced.

“Safe and sound, huh…” Kalim muttered, his mind racing as he contemplated the weight of their mission. After a moment of deep thought, he nodded, determination replacing his doubt. “Okay, I’m in! I’ll do my part too! Who knows? Maybe Fellow will see the errors of his ways before things come to a head!”

“If only,” Carter sighed, his shoulders drooping slightly. “That would be the best outcome by far, easily, for real…” He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression a mix of hope and resignation.

“All right. For starters, I guess we’d better go find that jerk,” Ace declared, his voice ringing with a newfound urgency.

“Yeah,” Ortho chimed in, his eyes darting around as he gathered his thoughts. “All the other visitors were loaded into a large wooden crate near the gate. Considering Fellow’s announcement, we can assume Lilia and Jade are in the same place as him.” His tone grew serious, emphasizing the need for action.

“Sounds like we’ve got a goal—” But just as Jack was about to continue, his sharp eyes caught movement from the corner. He turned, and his heart sank as he saw a group of puppet soldiers, their wooden bodies creaking with each synchronized step as they advanced toward them.

“ChiLDrEN LOcATED! BrINg tHem tO FeLLOW!" The puppets shouted in unison, their voices a chilling blend of mechanical and eerie cheerfulness.

“It’s the puppets again!” Jack exclaimed, shock evident on his face. His fists clenched tightly, adrenaline surging through him as he braced himself for confrontation.

“Oh, for the love of… Way to ruin our momentum!” Ace groaned, frustration bubbling to the surface. He glanced around at the group, knowing they needed to stay focused despite the interruption.

“I’m sick and tired of you guys! GRAWR!” Jack growled, his fierce determination igniting as he lunged toward the puppets, ready to unleash his pent-up energy and anger upon them. The muscles in his arms coiled like springs, ready to strike.

“Ace, get back! We’ll take them out!” Trey shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos as he pulled out his wand.

“Wait, guys I don't think it’s a good idea—!” Via tried to warn them, but it was too late. Trey and Jack launched their magical attacks with precision, obliterating the puppet soldiers in a spectacular display of power. The remnants of the puppets scattered like confetti, and the rest of the group erupted into cheers.

“Got ’em! Those puppets didn’t stand a chance against your magic,” Ortho praised, his voice bright with excitement.

“Hah! Not gonna be doing much attacking now that they’re blown to bits, huh?” Jack taunted, a cocky grin spreading across his face. But suddenly, an unsettling sensation washed over him. His muscles stiffened, and he gasped, “…Hrk?!” Before he could react, his body went limp, and he collapsed to the floor, the fight abruptly leaving him.

“Jack?!” Trey shouted in shock, rushing to his friend’s side. But as he knelt down, he felt a similar stiffness creeping through his own limbs. “Oh no! Is this what I think it is…? Grk!” He didn’t have time to finish his thought before he, too, went slack, the world around him blurring as he succumbed to the mysterious force.

Both Jack and Trey now wore wooden masks, their expressions frozen in a mix of shock and confusion.

“Right, I can’t move…” Trey exclaimed, his voice strained as he struggled against the sudden paralysis.

“The others weren’t kidding… My body doesn’t feel like MINE,” Jack added, panic creeping into his voice as he tried to comprehend their dire situation.

“Jack?! Trey?!” Ace called out, his shock morphing into fear as he rushed toward them, his heart pounding.

“They’ve started to turn into puppets!” Kalim shouted, dread pooling in his stomach.

“AtTaCKinG park eMpLOYEEs IS aN EgrEGiOus viOLAtiON OF paRK RULeS! It’s pUppeTdOm FoR ALl bad chILdRen cOmmIttinG mIsdEeDs in PlAyful LAnD!” they chimed in unison, their wooden features gleaming ominously.

“Bad children…?” Ortho and Yuki echoed in confusion, their brows furrowed as they exchanged glances.

“Blast… I’ll at least stall ’em before I go full puppet! HRAAAGH!” Jack yelled, summoning every ounce of strength he had left. He strained against the invisible bonds holding him in place, but it felt as if he were trying to push a boulder up a mountain.

“Rgh… We can’t move. All of you, get out of here, quick!” Trey exclaimed, his voice low but urgent, his eyes darting around for any possible escape route.

“No way! We can’t just abandon you guys!” Kalim replied, a worried yet determined expression on his face, as if he could somehow will his friends to regain their strength.

“You wouldn’t be abandoning us. Look—getting to Fellow's is the ultimate goal, right?” Trey stated, offering a reassuring smile that belied the seriousness of their situation. “The two of us are just gonna reach him first, is all. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Trey…” Ace looked at his vice housewarden, torn between worry and resolve. “We’ll come for you, okay? Count on it.”

“No fair, Trey! You’re not allowed to act all brave and tough and cool! It’s hitting me square in the feels!” Carter teased, his voice lighthearted but underscored by genuine concern.

“Cut it out; you’re embarrassing me,” Trey jokes, trying to lighten the mood despite the heavy weight of their predicament.

“Tch. Can’t believe I didn’t make it any farther than this… Sorry, Leona,” Jack said, his ears drooping in shame. “Guess I’ll be heading to Fellow ahead of the rest of you. I’ll come up with a way to sock him now.” His expression hardened with determination, refusing to let fear dictate his actions.

“Hey, don’t do anything stupid,” Leona warned, his voice steady but laced with concern. “You don’t know what small-time guys like that could pull when they snap. Just sit tight and be patient; there’s no way you can mess that up, right?” He teased, a flicker of a smirk crossing his face, trying to bolster Jack’s spirit.

“Hmph. Don’t patronize me,” Jack grumbled, but a small smile crept onto his face despite the circumstances. “As for the rest of you… Be careful!”

Suddenly, a loud alarm began blaring, filling the air with an urgent, high-pitched warning.

“Rgh… Here we are, housewardens, walking away from students in trouble!” Vil exclaimed, frustration and disappointment evident on his face, feeling the sting of helplessness.

“There’s nothing we can do right now, but we won’t let their sacrifice be in vain,” Via explained to Vil, her tone soothing as she tried to comfort him.

“First things first: we gotta scram before the alerts bring more puppets! Via, do you still have enough energy to make another door?” Ace asked, urgency sharpening his voice as he turned his attention to the school nurse.

“Absolutely!” Via responded, determination igniting in her eyes. She quickly used her unique magic to paint a vibrant door on the wall, her brush strokes alive with energy. With a flourish, she placed her hand on the painted doorknob and swung the door open, signaling for the others to head inside quickly.

“Guys… I’m sorry,” Kalim said, his voice heavy with regret as he glanced back at his friends, his heart aching. But he took a deep breath and joined the rest of the group, bolstered by their resolve.

“Yuki, come on!” Ace called out, gripping Yuki’s hand tightly and pulling them along, while Yuki cradled the weeping Grim, who was still mourning the loss of his popcorn, his tiny body shaking with sobs.

As they rushed through the door, the weight of uncertainty and fear hung in the air, but they were united in their mission.

The door opened quietly, and Vil poked his head out, scanning the new area. He carefully examined every corner, watching for signs of any pursuing puppets or traps. After a moment, he glanced back at the group and gestured for them to follow.

“Pursuing forces are thinner in this area. Let’s hide and wait it out,” Vil suggested, his voice low but steady as the others exited through the painted door.

They ducked behind a cluster of oversized, cartoonish shrubs, catching their breath. For a few moments, the only sound was their heavy breathing, as each of them tried to process everything that had just happened. The weight of leaving Jack and Trey behind hung heavily over them.

Floyd, always quick to break the silence, eyed Leona with a curious look. “What’s wrong, Sea Lion?” he asked, smirking. “You’re all quiet and broody-lookin’ over there.”

Leona shot him a brief glare. “This is how I always look,” he retorted with a dismissive wave, but then he sighed, revealing a hint of the frustration underneath. “But I was just thinkin’. About why people are turning into puppets now. It’s weird.”

“That’s been bugging me too,” Ace jumped in, rubbing the back of his head. “At first, I thought maybe it just took a while for Playful Land’s magic to kick in. Like… you had to spend a whole day at the park before it got to you.” He glanced around, his expression puzzled. “Except none of us have been here any longer than the others. And the timing of it happening to Jack and Trey was just way too convenient.”

“True,” Cater added, nodding as he recalled the moment they were captured. “The magic got them both at once, the second they fought the puppets. Like it was waiting for them to do something.”

“The puppets…” Ortho mumbled, looking down thoughtfully as he replayed the encounter in his mind. His eyes lit up as he remembered something. “What was it they said? ‘It’s puppetdom for all bad children committing misdeeds,’ right? I thought they were just trying to scare us, but what if…”

“What if that’s the actual punishment when you break the rules of Playful Land?” Yuki said, piecing it together as they handed a now-calmed Grim over to Via, who took him with a comforting pat on the back.

“You actually turn into a puppet when you do bad things here?” Ace exclaimed, the realization hitting him with a mix of horror and fascination.

“If that’s it, then all we have to do is avoid doing misdeeds!” Kalim suggested, his voice brightening with relief. “We could be okay if we just, you know… keep our noses clean.”

“That’d make sense. Maybe we can get outta this easier than we thought.” Ace grinned, his hope rekindled by the idea of a simple solution.

“Yeah, huh? That’s a relief!” Kalim beamed, feeling the tension lift, even if only a little. “But… what counts as a misdeed, exactly?” He looked around at the group, his expression clouded by confusion, as he realized the situation was more complicated than it seemed.

The rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, the same question clearly on everyone’s mind. Each of them had their own guesses, but none seemed entirely sure. Could it be as simple as fighting? Was sneaking around, lying, or even talking back to the puppets considered a misdeed here? The thought gnawed at them.

Watching the group, both Yuki and Via found themselves struggling to keep their composure. They shared a quick, exasperated look, each silently summoning all their patience.

‘Great Seven give me strength not to end it all right now,’ Via thought, stifling an inward groan.

Did I wrote a rewrite fic where Yuu and grim have a more interactive role in the playful land event cause I was salty that Yuu didn’t do much…yes yes I did Don’t think to much of this fan fic it’s just self indulgent, I do apologize if it’s cringy :,V

[stiltonbasket]

For the wen!wwx au, how does lwj find out that wwx is a spy for the resistance?

(chapter list here)

On the night Wei Ying's daughter is born, the Wei-fu does not sleep until well past sunrise.

After Wen Qing was summoned to tend to Li Shuai, Wei Ying and Yu Zhenhong began keeping vigil in the rear court's central garden, accompanied by Wen Sizhui. From what little Lan Wangji hears from Wei Ying's private courtyard as the evening draws on, both mother and child seem to be faring well; but as hai shi passes, and then midnight, he takes his wheeled chair to the training field and rolls slowly around the perimeter until Xiao Liuzi comes to bring him a tray of snacks and tea.

"I saw the light in the Jade Courtyard," Xiao Liuzi explains. "Supper was hours ago, Hanguang-jun, so Cook asked me to bring you a tea-tray."

"I have no appetite," Lan Wangji says brusquely, "though I am grateful for your kindness. Tell me, how is Lady Li?"

"Ah, that..."

Lan Wangji's blood runs cold. "Is she—her child, are they—?"

"No, Hanguang-jun! There hasn't been any news at all. This is Lady Li's first child, so it might be early evening before the baby comes."

"And what about Wei Ying? Has he eaten?"

"He and Master Yu are still in the garden," Xiao Liuzi tells him. "My lord managed to eat a little, but he says he won't sleep until everything is over."

He hesitates for a moment, and then:

"He said there was no need for you to wait up for him, Hanguang-jun. You could damage your meridians again, and your legs..."

"One night without sleep can hardly make them worse," Lan Wangji says. "Return to the garden outside Lady Li's courtyard and report back to me the moment you hear anything."

"Yes, Hanguang-jun!"

"And get something to eat."

"Yes, Hanguang-jun! If you don't want the cakes, Cook is making—"

"I meant for yourself."

At that, Xiao Liuzi turns pink and takes to his heels, leaving his plate of cakes behind him; and Lan Wangji comes to a halt under the great oak in the south corner of the field and remains there until Xiao Liuzi comes crashing back through the gates with Wen Sizhui at his heels.

"She's here, Hanguang-jun!" Sizhui cries, grasping Lan Wangji's hands. "I'm a xiongzhang! I have a sister!"

"Lady Li is well, too," Xiao Liuzi jumps in. "Tired, of course, but she had enough appetite to drink a bowl of soup and eat some of the rice left over from supper."

Lan Wangji closes his eyes.

"The general must be delighted," he says thickly.

He could not quite tell what he was feeling, just then. Certainly Lan Wangji is relieved on behalf of Lady Li and her baby daughter—Wei Ying's daughter—but some part of his heart aches as if some small animal had begun to gnaw on it, blind to the fact that even its weak teeth were sturdy enough to do harm. It aches as it had ached on the nights that Wei Ying slept in Yu Zhenhong's courtyard, or spoke of how Li Shuai's beauty had enchanted him at first sight; and though Lan Wangji is dimly aware of the fact merely laying eyes on Wei Ying would be a comfort to him at that moment, he cannot bring himself to go looking for him.

"He is," Xiao Liuzi beams, not noticing the strange look in Lan Wangji's eyes. "Junshang will surely be disappointed, for he was hoping for a new young master, but my lord is overjoyed. Shall I help you to bed now, Hanguang-jun?"

It strikes Lan Wangji then that Wei Ying might not return to his own quarters that day. Perhaps he would sleep on the long sofa in Li Shuai's sitting room, unable to part from his lady and her child. Or perhaps he would go to Yu Zhenhong instead, for he had been too busy preparing for the child's arrival to grant any favor to his most-beloved concubine since the turning of the last month.

He will be a nuisance to Wen Qing and the other physicians if he sleeps in Li Shuai's room, Lan Wangji thinks wretchedly. And if he sleeps in Yu Zhenhong's quarters, then...

But Yu Zhenhong stood vigil with him; he too had not slept, so if Wei Ying could bring himself to leave Li Shuai—and it would be to his credit if he could not, for she had risked her very life to bring Wei Ying's daughter into the world—might he not choose to rest in his own courtyard, rather than troubling Yu Zhenhong?

"Yes, you may," he hears himself say to Xiao Liuzi. "And afterwards, draw a hot bath for your lord and lay out fresh sleeping robes on the bed."

In the end, Lan Wangji breaks his fast alone. Wei Ying does not appear for another three hours; and when he finally returns, heavy-eyed and pale from the night's worry, he has a tiny bundle of blankets clutched close to his chest.

Lan Wangji's heart seizes. "Is that—?"

Wei Ying falls to his knees at Lan Wangji's side.

"Oh, look at her," he whispers, spellbound. "I never dreamed that I would have a daughter, Lan Zhan! Isn't she perfect?"

He draws back the blanket and lets the baby grasp his little finger. "This is your Zhan-shushu!" he murmurs, kissing her downy black head. "His face might be fierce, but his heart is as soft as tofu, really, so A-Mei mustn't be afraid of him."

"A-Mei?"

"It's only her baby name," Wei Ying says, blushing. "A-Shuai always wanted to have a little girl named after the roses that grew in her mother's old garden—but Mei doesn't sound quite right with my name, so we'll have to choose something else for her formal name."

Lan Wangji frowns and opens his mouth, for Wei Mei is a perfectly serviceable name: but then he stops and stares at the crease of pink skin between the child's left thumb and forefinger.

There is a blood-red mole there, shaped like a tiny crescent moon. Lan Wangji ought to have thought nothing of it, for he saw three Lan children born with moles the color of spilt wine on their faces when he was a boy.

But he has also seen a grown man with a mole identical to small Wei Mei's—within the very walls of the Wei-fu, at that—and that man was not Wei Ying.

He reaches out to touch the baby's hand, meeting no resistance from his besotted husband. He places his own finger in the child's left palm, and then in the right; and just as he suspected, the baby's right hand is weaker than the left.

There are no left-handed men in the High General's manor, other than Yu Zhenhong.

Lan Wangji releases the baby's arm and straightens his posture, his heart racing. The more he studies Wei Mei's features, the more he finds of Yu Zhenhong and Li Shuai; but Wei Ying, overwhelmed with happiness at having gained a second child after sixteen years spent wishing for a brother or sister for Sizhui, seems to have noticed nothing at all.

What would he do, if he were to learn that Li Shuai's baby had been fathered by another man? Would he cast her out? Kill Yu Zhenhong? Lan Wangji would keep silent to the end of his days to prevent such a thing from happening, for a wiling affair, while cruel to the utmost, did not merit death as a punishment.

But he knows Wei Ying; and if not for the obedience sigils carved into his back, his husband would have taken up his dao and cut his own throat before spilling even a drop of innocent blood.

"Wei Ying," he says at last. "Return Xiao Mei to her mother. There is something I must ask you."

So Wei Ying goes, ferrying his precious burden back to Li Shuai's courtyard with breathless care, and then he returns to the bedroom he shares with Lan Wangji and brings out the red-jade tea service in the cupboard.

Lan Wangji watches him move about the room, gathering tea leaves and preparing hot water, and decides that the most advantageous way forward is to catch Wei Ying off his guard.

"I know that Yu Zhenhong and Li Shuai are only your concubines in name," he says slowly, for Wei Ying's kindness is not of the sort that might dull a man's wits; and now that Lan Wangji thinks on it, he would certainly have noticed if his concubines were carrying on together in his absence. "But given that you have no interest in either of them, I cannot understand why you took them into the Wei-fu in the first place."

The blood drains from Wei Ying's face—out of fear, not wrath—and in that moment, Lan Wangji realizes that he has stumbled upon something of far greater significance than a love affair between two concubines, though he knows now that Wei Ying had never belonged to either of them.

"Belong to them?" Wei Ying says with a strangled laugh. "I'll never belong to anyone, other than Wen Ruohan."

Lan Wangji is silent for a moment.

"That is not true," he replies. "There is something more behind all this, I know it. Tell me."

So Wei Ying bows his head, and tells him everything; and when they finally begin preparing for bed, Lan Wangji fetches a sandalwood comb from the nightstand and asks Wei Ying to kneel so that he can brush out his hair.

"You will not always belong to Wen Ruohan," he whispers between strokes, his eyes lingering on the back of Wei Ying's fair neck. "You do not belong to him now. A thief may lay his hands on whatever he pleases; it does not follow that he owns it."

"But he can do whatever he pleases with his stolen goods, can't he?"

"You speak as if you have not already betrayed the thief in question a hundred times over, Wei-jiangjun."

"...En, that's so."

Lan Wangji lays down the comb and weaves Wei Ying's hair into a long, thick braid.

"Now that I know," he says quietly, "I beg of you not to keep such secrets from me again! I will follow your commands from this day forth, whatever they may be; and until your work is over, I will not leave your side."