#the first lady of star fox

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

I feel bad for Starlo.

Star has a point, idk what the four were ticked off about, there is like 99% chance everyone willingly participated in the trolley problem, based on what we've seen of his behavior thus far it's not like Starlo to be that big of a jerk/drag them by force/yell at them to do it. Ed's words:

he does it because Star asks NICELY

clearly jealous

It genuinely seemed like a fun time/fun roleplay, especially since every day is the same. Like, the five are supposed to be a rowdy and adventures bunch, what exactly did Starlo do wrong, I'm genuinely confused and curious. Except taking a big liking in Clover (his posse should know that this is a big moment for him, according to Blackjack they've known each other since high school and had the same liking for westerns. So they were basically a nerd gang.) Starlo was kind, patient and considerate towards Clover the whole time, even warned Mooch about them not being bandits, taught Clover gun safety, wanted to bring his posse along for a fun time, thanked Ace for telling him about getting Clover a new hat...

Sure, at first he only liked Clover for being a human, but as Ceroba says, that changed and he grew to genuinely care about them, plus I can't help but think Star saw himself in Clover and that's part of the reason he was so proud of them all the time even when they messed up (I'll talk more about this at some point)

What exactly made Ace want to leave the gang? He even said how he doesn't mind "getting run over by the fake train"

he's so nice. says sorry for forgetting the safety goggles even when he was scatterbrained due to his excitement. I love him so much

The only real "faults" (I'll call them temporary faults) I saw in Star during the Wild East section was that he was even more enthusiastic and more proud than usual. But how couldn't he be when he met a member of the species that he has admired for so long because they have real cowboys and sheriffs on the surface (who are seen as brave heroes who deliver justice, while Star canonically feels like a nobody farmer). His posse should have realized Clover wouldn't be there forever and just let their boss enjoy himself with his "deputy who'd have to leave sooner or later anyway"(or be more patient with him/ask him why he feels this strongly towards Clover/if there's a deeper reason for that). His friends including Ceroba just turn their back on him so quickly instead. The moment he's gotten the chance to feel valued for once and put himself first and not have to take care of this whole town and everyone in it and live his dream of meeting a real human, suddenly "his personality is damaged?"

Star's literally built this whole town, organised everything, he worries about everyone, Ceroba (plus was the one to give her emotional strength before and after Clover's sacrifice), Kanako, the monsters, his family, struggles with feelings of worthlessness yet never wipes that smile off his face, always does his best to be hopeful and optimistic and make others laugh, gave his posse a nap time so they don't become exhausted, gave Ceroba a free home, didn't act upon his feelings towards her and was a 110% supportive, caring friend instead. THAT'S who he is. He's the papa bear of this friend group, the glue holding everyone together.

He was just *really* excited. Y'all know he's insecure and just wishes to escape who he is and yet y'all blame him for liking Clover so much. Yeah, the four are very clearly jealous. But why won't the four of you control your feelings for a while? As mentioned, Clover WILL HAVE TO LEAVE EVENTUALLY. They won't be Star's "deputy" forever (the kid who's just as into westerns as he is, who values justice just as much, who also values doing the right thing. Someone he clearly felt understood in the presence of, whom he loved; just look at the way he talks about Clove during Showdown). Star seems genuinely confused of what he did wrong poor guy just wanted to live his fantasy for once and feel important:

Even at the beginning Moray's like "oh no Martlet is upset" Mooch replies "don't be a buzzkill nothing exciting ever happens around here" and Ray's like "Yeah you've got a point"

If you all agreed to have a little fun with a human who will very soon leave forever why is Starlo's enthusiasm such a big problem? If the posse weren't into this after all (unless they were simply too jealous which could have been solved with a honest talk and a little patience) why are you doing this "rowdy" job with Star in the first place? Do you want your boring routine day to day life so much back? Or just for Clover to leave (which they will soon enough)? You, western enthusiasts, literally met a real human, A HUMAN FROM WESTERNS YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE PASSIONATELY INTO (clearly not as passionate as Star but passionate ENOUGH to understand where he's coming from).

... okay.

[secretly-a-catamount]

Once again thinking about the Serafina Series and The Crane Wives.

The Crooked, the Cradle is book three from Serafina’s perspective. The quiets were restless and the silents were still, as Rowena, her enemy, stood over Serafina’s grave, alone with her kill, and raised her from the dead. Later, after running from Uriah, leaving blood in the water after she transformed out of the stream, Serafina stumbled into Biltmore, the Vanderbilts, the nobles of the house, weary and broken, and cried out, wondering if anyone could hear her, wondering if she truly was nobody’s daughter if her mother had run for the hills and her father couldn’t see her. She ran back to the woods, back to Rowena, who wore her hair down and a crooked smile, the only one who understood her now, and begged. Serafina who worked with her worst enemy to save the citizens of Biltmore, because even if her season was ending, their’s didn’t have to. Serafina, who prayed to the God she didn’t really believe in to survive the unsurvivable so she could live, so she could be happy, so she could have the love she would never want the devil to know about, because she just couldn’t let it go.

Canary in a Coal Mine is Waysa’s secret doubts about his and Rowena‘s relationship. He hopes that maybe he’ll be worth more someday than the man who pulls her out of her nightmares, the only thing that keeps her safe when the light goes out. That he’ll be worth more than the first man who showed her basic kindness and empathy. That he’ll be worth something to her, because he fears that he isn’t, even if that isn’t true, because he fears that if he loses his voice, if the darkness stops receding, that she will break the surface, return him to the darkness of empty graves and black air. He fears that if he stops being useful to her, she will leave, and he will continue to sing for her until his well-kept heart that was fed on promises stoped beating and his black lungs failed, expelling his final breaths, breaths that were made of coal dust and his own crushed bones and her love. Waysa will sing for her, because he loves her, even if she finally wised up to his flaws, even if she rightfully doesn’t love him back. Waysa will sing like a bird, like a canary in a coal mine who loves the miner who never even thinks to turn around as he falls from his perch, dead. Waysa will sing.

Thinking again about how The Crane Wives and Robert Beatty must share a brain, because of how well so much of their music matches with the Serafina Series.

Curses is Serafina talking to Braeden, a girl who is so tired of everything, a girl who, in her own eyes, will never be good enough, who thinks she’s cursed, a girl who feels so guilty about dragging her lover from his world into hers, a girl who creeps down the empty corridors of a house — her lover’s last named engraved on it like an elegy — with cobwebs in the corner, the backyard full of bones, knowing full well that war is always about to knock on their door, and burn them, ashes to ashes and dust to dust, because her enemies are after them both.

Tongues and Teeth and Never Love an Anchor is Rowena’s justification for leaving Waysa after he helped her heal from her wounds before the events of Splintered Heart, how she believed that every kiss would just leave Waysa bleeding, how, due to her father’s abuse and her own past actions, she thought that she could only ever hurt him, because she thought it was simply her nature to hurt and ruin and destroy.

Allies or Enemies is Rowena and Waysa’s relationship during Splintered Heart, once enemies who were then allies, Waysa having nursed her back to health in what Rowena considered a “moment of weakness”. Rowena, who felt guilty about how she treated him and the people he loved, Waysa, who forgave her for what she’d done, for disappearing. Waysa, who never doubted that she could change, even when she denied her feelings, even when she spoke words made of thorns and plagues and the cloying smoke of a wildfire.

The Garden is how consumed by grief and borderline suicidal Braeden was after he buried Serafina. Braeden, whose world was torn down by Serafina’s dying breaths. Braeden, who buried his best friend and lover — who was both his shield and his stone — with a spade and dug her up after she returned to life with shaking fingers. Braeden, who lied to his aunt and his uncle and the Estate as a whole. Braeden, who longed to make her grave their bed on his darkest days, who longed to give the crows who laughed at him their pound of flesh. Braeden, whom her ghost whispered to, when it returned in her blood-stained clothes, drifting into the manor from the window, pressing her lips to his neck, her teeth to his throat. Braeden, who considered a deal with the devil, the Black Cloak, if it meant saving her. Braeden, who fell to his knees and ripped up the ground with his bare hands until they bled.

Thinking about love and tragedy and broken children.

Thinking about the Serafina Series and The Crane Wives.

[almostempty]

Look at this photograph

(joel miller x f!reader)

The half sequel (Chapter 1.5) to Never made it as a wise man

WC: 3.5k | Part 1 | Other fics | Rating: 18+ 

Summary: you open Joel’s dick pic and (after examination) decide to give him a call

Note: it’s me ya boi (gn), back with more divorceddadrockdilf!joel bc you guys get me. i know y’all want them to fuck, and I want them to fuck too. unfortunately, this flowed through me first, and I am merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. 

so, until they get their freak nasty on, please enjoy this as a chapter 1.5, with gratuitous dick pic art critique and crankin’ it over the phone <3 don’t worry, he’s still a lil pathetic. mistakes and bad jokes are all on me. 

Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where ch.1 ended, dick pic descriptions, alternating pov, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, it’s all just phone sex, but edge yourself through it with fond memories of ch. 1, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc

inspo playlist i found on spotify: Divorced Dad Rock: BANGERZ

thanks: to @hellishjoel for hosting the #hotdilfsummerchallenge and to everyone who enjoyed part 1 

@gothcsz i promise fuckboy!joel is cookin, he’s just in the crockpot rn. he’s gotta tenderize like a white lady’s pinterest recipe for pulled pork. 

* i tried to tag everyone who wanted more, but if you don’t wanna be here i’ll remove it <3 or if i missed you and you want to be tagged next time pls let me know

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you blurt out after opening the message from Joel. The vulgar dick pic sends a prickly worm of arousal slithering down your spine. 

Without thinking, you tilt the phone down toward your chest, and your eyes shoot up like you’ve got to make sure nobody saw your naughty message. Warmth blooms on your cheeks as the flash of embarrassment starts to dissolve. You don’t need to hide. 

You’re in your bed, in your apartment, wearing Joel’s grubby Creed t-shirt. The one that smells like Degree Sport and a Jiffy Lube break room. You're free to look at all the dick pics your heart desires. And that’s what you’re going to do. 

The wiggle of bashful energy turns into a squirm as you shift your hips, seeking a comfy position in bed. The t-shirt bunches up under your back and you wonder if the unique Joel scent of it will linger on your pillow beneath your shoulders. You knew pilfering the shirt on the way out the door was a good move, and now you get to enjoy your trophy. It makes it feel like the broad-as-a-barn-door DILF himself was still close enough to touch you. 

It gives you another bright shudder when you think about the noises he made when he came in your hand earlier. The disappointed grunts of “fuck, wait” and how he tried to choke down the throaty groan that came from deep in his chest. Fuck. The perverted gremlins that have a permanent residence in your mind have been roused by the digital dick, and now they chitter and squawk at you. More! More! More!  

You reopen the message, and seeing it gives you another rush. You save the picture to your phone storage. For your personal collection. Mine now, big boy. Your chin starts to dip towards your chest. It’s like you’re giving your phone the Kubrick stare with the ghost of a smirk. You’re free to take your time with this one. And you can be as much of a creep as you want. That makes you sigh softly and sink deeper against your pillows. 

Before this afternoon, it was titillating when Joel would pop up in your mind's eye with his slutty slo-mo scenes. The one where he was bent over your car's engine like Megan Fox in that Transformers movie. Or, that damn happy trail tease with the t-shirt-sweat-rag move. You had just enough imagery to let your dirty thoughts take the wheel. 

And, god, you had a good production team in your mind for projects starring Joel. Adding this will give the team a whole lot more to work with. You can hear them crashing around your conscious like the Animaniacs on the Warner Brothers lot. Horny chaos goblin mode activated. 

Now that you have time to study the image, from the luxury of your microfiber sheets and lamplit bedroom, you let it get pervy. It’s your first real, lingering look–earlier today, you were so busy trying to rile him up in his jeans that you didn’t even pull it out.

It had somehow been even more delicious that way. Having him all needy and unable to stop himself from making a mess in your hand. And not just the noises, but the erratic thrusts into your tight fist? The heat of his pulsing length as he forgot himself? Yeah, you’re gonna remember that one. 

But now? Now you need the visual. If the devil is in the details, you have a new neighbor with horns and a tail. 

You zoom in on everything. Holding your phone closer to your face than necessary, like how do we enhance this bitch? 

And holy shit. 

Drool pools in your mouth and between your legs. You have the knee-jerk reaction to lick your phone. 

You can hear Joel’s voice from earlier today. All husky and grumbly, arguing that you really were a slut for him, like, “You are, aren’t you, though? You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt just to see me?”  He might be touch-starved enough to cream his jeans, but you just know he’s got a nasty mouth in bed, and you’ve got to find out firsthand. Soon. There’s no reason not to, right? 

You pause when a flicker of reasoning tickles the back of your neck. 

You’re back to looking in your review mirror in Joel’s driveway. The last-ditch attempt at checking your ego before you marched to his front door like a Halloween hoe bag version of Betty Crocker. 

You had told yourself you weren’t trying to fuck your (almost) friend’s (sort of) dad. Told yourself there was nothing to pursue, and even if there was, you wouldn’t bite. 

You like Ellie. She’s been (mostly) welcoming to you. You told yourself not to fuck anything up with the only person that’s got a single one of your jokes at your new job. 

You were just bringing some food as a friendly gesture. The fresh visuals to add to your spank bank reel were supposed to be a harmless bonus. Okay, maybe it was a stretch to say you had rolled up to Joel’s driveway with pure intentions. 

And it was an even bigger stretch–when he added that third finger while he finger fucked you on the kitchen counter—wait, no. It was an even bigger stretch when you had told yourself you probably weren’t his type anyway. 

Like, that guy? With the fridge full of Coors Banquet? With those ugly Oakley sunglasses that you know are featured in his only picture on social media that isn’t a car or truck? The guy with all the words to Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” and Puddle of Mudd’s “She Hates Me” memorized? 

Nah, deep down, you knew. You knew there was no way that middle-aged bachelor would turn down any action. But you hadn’t planned on actually making a move, especially not a handjob in the middle of the kitchen. 

That’s on Joel for leaving the door open while trying to rub one out to some bimbo on Brazzers. And for barking at you in that sexy, angry voice. And for teasing you with the bulge in his oil-stained jeans. What were you supposed to do? 

Something must be really rotting in the logic department of your brain. 

Hey! The gremlin voice in your head is still shouting at you. Hey!! Why are we not tasting that dick yet?!! You’re back from your daydream and the excuses you crafted for your behavior, back to laying in your bed with Joel’s dick pic emitting a bright glow in your hand. 

You still do want to lick the screen. 

Fortunately for your immune system, you control your tongue. The critical part of you expels a sigh when you zoom out and take in the picture. 

It’s undoubtedly a nice cock, but the image as a whole? Yikes. 

Why do men have to be so fucking thick? And blunt? Wait, now you’re just describing the slightly blurry boner lighting up your face. Thick as in dense. How can men be so dense? 

No imagination or creativity. No patience. 

You shake your head slightly, scoffing. No wonder you caught him hunched over his cracked phone screen. It was probably the first video loaded on the only site he had saved. 

No sweet, sweet, buildup, setting the mood, or getting cozy. Just whippin’ it out midday or snapping a photo in some ratty sweats. 

Like you’ve never been that touch-starved or down bad?

You ignore that voice to continue your art critique. 

The photo you sent is… sexy. 

Sultry. A flirty tease. It says, “Look who has your shirt? Am I wearing it in bed? Do you think I'm wearing anything else?” 

It’s all implied in the look in your eye and the picture's composition. The tease of the soft curves on the underside of your breasts, asking if he remembers what they felt like. Your hand bunching up the shirt, asking if he remembers the slide of that fist around his cock. If he remembers those fingers, the ones you sucked his sticky spend off of. 

Such delicately crafted imagery. Personalized erotic fine art.  

But men are so crude about it. He sees your tasteful, sexy pic, and immediately, the best his caveman brain can come up with is: send her ur dick! STAT!! Hard cock! Now!!

And, of course, he did. Taken in the dark with the flash on, making ominous shadows in the background. His old charcoal gray sweats are pulled down just enough to expose everything he’s offering. 

The color is slightly blown out from the flash, and it’s a touch blurry where his phone didn’t autofocus quickly enough. His hand looks like it’s straight up, just choking the base of his cock. It’s jarring. 

But that’s really the “man” of it all, right? Nothing subtle or demure about a rock-hard erection jutting towards you, reaching like it could get to you on its own if it just could get a little bit harder. No, there’s nothing coy about the raw thoughts of a man with no blood left in his brain who’s just aching to get inside you, either. 

And fuck if that doesn’t start to override your critical analysis. 

The glare from the flash reflects in the beads of precome rolling down his rosy tip. Mouth wateringly delicious. Your blood rushes to your pussy, filling your tender sex with heat and a deep, needy itch. It makes you dopey and silly. Not cock drunk, but like, dick pic buzzed. 

You know it felt sizeable in your hand earlier, but you aren’t an expert at estimating size from a through-the-pants handjob. You try to recreate your own grip around nothing to estimate the size. 

You giggle to yourself when you realize you're just a woman in her bed staring at her hand, jerking an invisible cock. The horny goblins aren’t amused, though. They’re sick of the daydreaming and distractions. They’re picking fights with the rest of your mind. Throwing rocks and sticks, shrieking and hissing. 

The part of your brain that was griping about how men used to write love letters and respect the art of romance is getting quieter and further from your faculty for caring. You can hear its muffled shouts, and you assure that voice that you won’t give it all up this easily. Then, you completely tune it out. 

The last brain cell with a complaint has you rolling your eyes. You have to be ovulating or something because it’s wholly debased the way this guy is doing it for you. 

He’s just shameless with it. 

You sent him tasteful underboob, and he gives you jumpscare dick-in-the-dark! How is this supposed to escalate? He gave it all up immediately! You send another picture, and he sends you his money shot? What’s he gonna do to give you more? Send you an asshole shot? That one makes you snort. You bet he would do it, too, if you asked. 

Oh, that gives you a better idea. He’s not getting another picture from you at all. You tap on his name and tap the call icon. Of course, this horny motherfucker answers immediately. You aren’t sure it even rang before you’re connected to his porny bedroom voice. 

“What are you wearing, dollface?” 

“I already showed you. Call me dollface again, and I’m hanging up.” 

You can hear his breathing like he’s got the mic on his phone in his mouth. That would typically drive you fucking nuts, but right now, you wanna hear his heavy breath against your ear and feel it hot against your skin.

“All right,” he speaks slowly, distracted. You know why. “You wanna be my slut, instead?” 

Fuck. That has you throbbing between your legs, but he doesn’t get to know that yet. 

“I already told you,” you keep your voice low and soft, “you don’t get to call me a slut for you, not with your behavior.” You strain, trying to hear any other noises, but his mic is probably clogged with dust from his shop or lint from the pocket of his sweats. You can just hear his fucking breathing. 

“What behavior, baby?” he rasps.

“You always jump straight to sending a picture of your cock?” 

You hear the soft snort through the phone. Followed by a deeper, throatier noise. A noise that makes you go cross-eyed and has you running a hand down to your naked lower half to tease yourself. 

“You always steal a man’s clothes after you come on his fingers?” 

You don’t really care what he asked. His voice makes your tongue go numb. Your mind goes blank. You start slowly, coating your own fingers in your slick arousal and drawing circles with a light touch. 

You hum a noncommittal response into the phone. 

“You look good in my shirt, baby, fuck,” he trails off breathlessly. The idea of you in his clothes gets him too close. 

You don’t answer, and he’s too far gone to wait and tease. 

He’s been wound up since you took off this afternoon, and it doesn’t feel like a coincidence that you sent him that pic when he had just gotten into bed.

It had taken ages to get his brother out of the shop this afternoon, and then Joel completely fucked up when he mentioned you and the lasagna. He had to begrudgingly host Tommy for dinner when he couldn’t come up with a better excuse than saying, “I’m gonna need you to fuck off so I can deal with the aching balls I’ve got from your surprise visit scaring away the woman I had my fingers knuckle deep inside.”

But when he was finally alone, it was like fate; your text came through right after he flopped onto his bed. His semi-stiff cock had sprung to full mast at the sight of you. The shirt he knew he didn’t fuckin’ lose, your soft curves, and the expression on your face. Like a vixen. Your PG-13 tease would do more for him than any X-rated video. 

Knowing you were thinking about him and that you wanted him to know? That had him throbbing. He already knew from the desire in your eyes earlier today that you wanted more.

He could swear his fingers still hold the lingering flavor of your wet cunt. The visceral memory of you has him on edge. When he wraps his hand around the base of his cock, he has to pause, holding firmly in place. His body screams and aches for release, but he’s determined to keep it in check. He doesn’t want to blow his load until he gets a response from you. 

He fights his urges, trying not to fuck his own fist in a frantic race to come. 

But, fuck, it’s difficult when he can imagine the sounds you’d make as you sank onto his cock for the first time. The face you’d make. Your tight, wet walls hugging him just right. Like, he’s where he’s meant to be. 

And the way you would look, bouncing on top of him. Your tits, your blissed-out face, the way your soft lips would part when you called out his name and cried for more. 

Those lips. 

The way he’d love to see them swollen and slobbering around the base of his cock. Fuck. His hips buck reflexively, and he hisses out a breath through his clenched teeth. When his phone lights up with your name, he answers before it can make a sound. You’re so bold. He likes that. It plasters a saucy grin on his face. 

And now, with your breathy voice crackling through his janky phone speaker, he’s not gonna last long. You've got him losing his composure for the second time in one day. His whole body is rigid. His toes flex and snap unconsciously, and his jaw tenses. He hears your soft moan, and his thoughts are overflowing. He has no filter left. 

“Yeah, baby? You moaning for me?” His hips punch up into his fist, and he gives in, allowing himself firm, severe strokes. “You’ve got me so hard. You moaning for my cock?” 

You are so not gonna answer that one. If the next words out his mouth are, “Yeah, you like that?” you’re gonna block him for that. But it is undeniably hot to hear him already so worked up. You just know he’s gonna be coming all over himself again for you, and that really does make you moan just for him.

Your noises earn you another growly groan from Joel that you’d kill to hear again. The more uninhibited his noises are, the louder you get in response.

“You using your fingers, or you have a toy?” his question is punctuated with a grunt. 

“Mm, just fingers,” you purr, finally granting him an actual response as you roll your hips. Having Joel on the line gives you a heady sense of satisfaction. Wondering what’s going to come out of his filthy mouth next gives you a shiver of anticipation. 

“I know that sweet pussy is just achin’ to be filled again.” Correct. 

“Yes.” 

“S’right, baby, I know.” 

Joel whimpering on the phone for you is absolutely going to get you off. Your hips chase your own fingers. You switch your phone audio to speakerphone and drop it on your pillow so you can use both hands. Pinching at your own nipples as if it were Joel’s big hand under your smuggled shirt. 

“Tell me,” he pants, “who do you need to fill it for you?” 

“You, Joel.” 

“Fuck,” he chokes out, “you wanna ride this cock, huh baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Bingo. Right again. You wish you could feel the pressure of him inside of you, massaging and soothing away the agony. The weight of his body atop of yours, so solid and secure. You can just about feel the pressure of his pelvis grinding into you. The friction from the coarse curls at the base of his cock getting you closer and closer. 

“Know you’d do so good,” he cuts himself off with a low noise, “so damn sexy.” 

“What else would you do with me?” You wanna hear it. For your own fantasy and to know what he’s into.  

“I’d have you taking me down your throat til you’re crying on it for me, fuck,” a primal noise erupts from him.

Face fucking. Of course. You can’t deny that when he says it, your body responds instantaneously. Your pussy floods eagerly at the idea, and your cheeks burn hot from the visual he gives you. You swallow down your moans, and you can imagine the weight of him on your tongue and the strain of trying to swallow around his cock. 

“You wanna come down my throat?” As if that isn’t a fucking siren song that would make him steer a fleet of ships into a cliff? Your salacious words are too much. 

“Shit. Yeah, baby, wanna watch you swallow for me.” You let all your moans and gasps flow freely for him to hear. “I’m so fuckin’ close,” he can’t stop the words from spilling out his mouth, “let me hear it, baby,” he can’t stop his pending bliss either. “Please, baby, I can’t, oh f-fuck,” he cuts himself off with another primitive grunt, and that’s precisely what your cavewoman cunt wanted to hear. 

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” The horny goblins chant out loud this time. You can envision sweaty, pleading Joel lurching toward a reckless, full-body climax. 

You’re far from grace when the crude sounds he lets out turn you into an uncivilized beast. You hear him gasping, growling, and whining for you. It plunges you into a staggering orgasm. Rolling waves of ecstasy leave you panting and sweating.  

You lie in bed, chest rising and falling beneath the Creed logo. You’re left stunned at the intensity. A dreamy smile spreads across your face, and warm contentment, like honey, pours slowly over your muscles. Relaxing you as your tension softens and you turn to pick your phone back up.

Why was it so wholly consuming just to listen to him? Imagining the mess he made again,

because of you. 

Maybe you’re just made for each other. 

You and Joel. 

Oh, god. You should start listening to Alanis Morissette and Evanescence and trade your car for a 1990s-era Toyota 4runner and a pack of Marlboro Smooths. Really lean into matching his freak and the divorced alt-rock vibes.

You laugh softly into your phone before a deep sigh possesses you, and you nearly fall asleep. You stretch and smile, letting your heavy eyelids rest. 

He’s muttering something at you, catching his breath from the stress of being that fucking horned up for you all evening. And the overexertion of lasting long enough to hear your sweet cries of release. 

“You’re unreal,” his smoky voice rings with awe. “Got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager.”

You snort at the juxtaposition of his tender voice and crude comment before ending the call with a whispered, “Goodnight.” 

It shouldn’t make you smile. 

But he’s somehow such an enticing disaster. A cliche lonely bachelor, a cocksure idiot who knows he’s got a big dick and a generous guy who was willing to fix a stranger's car. 

You shouldn’t be trying to justify it, but you know he had you figured out earlier. 

You may be sated tonight, but you won’t be able to rest.

Not until you get your hands on that DILF – or rather, your pussy on that dick. 

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

PLEASE tell me if you enjoyed or hated it 

OR throw rocks at me if you’re upset they didn’t smash yet or tell me ur favorite divorced dad rock song

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@lovely-vamp-princess @gothcsz @auteurdelabre @adoreyouusugar @swankyorange

[lasirenatarot]

“ LOOKS-MAXXING ” pick-a-card reading.💝

Your next glow up.

What can you do in order to have a big glow up?

Pick a pink 90s magazine cover:

—>Pile 1

Your next glow up will most likely be related to getting « in peace » with your s€xuality prior to glowing up both physically and mentally. What I mean by this is you will probably need to get rid of any self doubts about your looks, any shame around your $£xual side due to past traumas or for some the way you were raised, some may have been raised in a controlling or conservative family.

One of the ways you can make this glow up happen is if you really enjoy your life and what you do. Try to practice your hobbies more and work on bettering your natural talents, by doing that you may find your purpose in this world and this will lead to the biggest glow up ever.. for some it may lead them to their dream career.

Something which appears in the cards is that you may need to forgive your parents or parental figures for the way they treated you in order to reach peace within yourself and your physical body. Forgive yourself as well for not acting in the « right way » or not looking a certain way, this is the best you could do at that point of your life . It is all in the past.

As for a physical glow up: judging by the pictures shown on the cards that fell, maybe start focusing on a regular work out routine, focusing on legs, butt or whatever you feel like you need to improve. Updating your clothing style may benefit you a lot. Stop caring about what others would say and pick clothes which give you freedom of expression, be yourself shamelessly. Some of you who chose this pile may have some creative vision which they may have been scared to express - do it. Meditation may help with your « glow up » in some form as well. Try bolder makeup looks and outfit choices.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 1:

The vibes I get from this pile is totally Julia Fox as a persona,not only style wise. She’s unapologetically herself, maybe for some she’s a bit weird. But the main point is, despite people’s opinions and perceptions of her, she has always followed her own rules and expressed herself. Before she got famous she was a dominatrix, did a photobook, an art exhibition aand starred in a famous movie in which her character was inspired by her real life . All this happened because she was authentic,lived her life the way she wanted and followed her heart, exactly what u should do as well,pile 1.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 2

Pile 2, you’re going through or will go through a huge transformation.. luck will definitely be on your side and you may find out answers for things which you’ve always wanted to know about. ( it can be pretty much about anything. If we are talkibg about a physical glow up exclusively, you may learn some very good beauty hacks soon. It can be about makeup, diet, exercise, skin care, personal development etc.. this is a general reading so I cannot be exact but whatever your case is it will lead to a HUGE glow up. Two of the cards are talking about some « secret knowledge » so whatever it is it will be significant for you.

This pile is very different from the first one as the glow up that appears here is not just about one or two things in your life or looks, it’s about everything. The things you can do in order to glow up faster, pile2, is maybe start watching makeup tutorials and pay attention to new techniques or products you haven’t heared before, ask people for where they shop they may tell you some secret thrift store with really cool clothes which can uplift your style.. anything which can help you get this « secret knowledge » which appeared in the cards. Another thing I can say for this pile is: focus on manifestation, envision the changes in your looks or life as a whole you would like to have and act accordingly in your 3D universe in order to get to where you want to be. Positive affirmations and subliminals (as in subliminals I mean not the crazy unrealistic ones, but those about self concept, confidence and beauty in general) may also be helpful in your case.

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 2:

The vibes I get here are Fran from “The Nanny” and Maddy from “Euphoria”. Fashionable, bold, colourful. Radiating confidence. Crystals, glitter, sparkle, feathers, bold and colourful makeup, everything of that sort. Do not dim your own light to make someone else feel better about themselves if they are insecure.

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

—>Pile 3

Pile 3: I think you would definitely be bettering your financial situation sooner than you may have even expected, this may help you get a glow up. You would be able to afford nicer things, skincare, clothes, procedures etc.. If you’re not already on a path to improve your finances, then you would definitely be motivated to start working on this problem soon and be very committed on your mission of « glowing up » in every way possible. Physically, mentally, spiritually even. You will be finding yourself after a long period of feeling lost and unlike your true self.

You would become much more intuitive, confident and cut throat even, you won’t let energy vampires use you as they may have done in the past and this would lead to a more beautiful and healthy version of you, because you would not have to deal with others’ negativity anymore. When it comes to relationships you would not be satisfied with with mediocrity, you will be finally standing your ground and being true to your standards and what you deserve. You will be getting your justice if you’ve been mistreated in the past.

This pile has huuuge « femme fatale » « dark feminine » vibe. This may be the energy you will be channeling after you have your glow up. Doing classic makeup like red lipstick+ black eyeliner, black smokey eyes and nude lips combo might help you channel this energy that i am seeing here better. Wearing colours like: red, black, gold and nude might help you elevate your look. Also wearing jewelry, lace and high heels. Don’t be scared to embrace your « dark side » which you may have ignored in the past in order to fit in with the crowd.

May sound trivial, but follow your intuition and do what makes you happy, it will make you glow in ways which you have not expected..

Moodboard/Vibes for pile 3:

The vibes I’m getting here are as I said in previous paragraphes: femme fatale, dark feminine energy,monica bellucci core type of look/aesthetics..

Songs which remind me of this pile’s vibe:

That was all from today’s PAC. It was a bit different from previous ones and I myself did not expect it to turn out the way it did, but sometimes completely different information pops up in readings because someone needs to hear a certain thing.. Hope you enjoyed it!!

Leave a comment/feedback if it resonated, share and follow for more.

Thank you for reading!

- La Sirena💋

Decks used: ‘$£xual magic’ oracle deck by Lo Scarabeo; ‘Manara’ €rotic tarot deck by Milo Manara/ Lo Scarabeo;

Photos are from pinterest; all credits to their respective owners.

[max-nico]

It's Tails first birthday with Sonic. Sonic estimates the kid is turning about 4, maybe 5 today. They're sitting at a little diner in some middle-of-nowhere town, partially because they don't have the funds for much more, but also because Tails only said he would like to go to a restaurant for his birthday.

It seemed like an odd choice for a kid, Sonic is pretty sure kids usually ask to go to things like amusement parks, or trampoline parks, or... Regular parks. He's not quite sure what kids like outside of parks, so maybe he's overthinking it.

Still, he asks Tails why he would want to go out to eat anyways. It seems like an odd choice for a rambunctious 4 (5?) year old.

"Oh." He mumbles, "Well I dunno what people do for birthdays, but one time I heard people back at the island talkin'bout going to dinner! I thought that's what people are s'posed to do, am I wrong?"

Sonic frowns for a moment, unsure of how to answer his question. It takes a little work to make the words he's looking for bubble up from his throat, still pretty unused to talking more than what's absolutely necessary.

"No, not really. You're-You are supposed to do what you want for your birthday. Whatever you want." Sonic's words drag in all the wrong places, and linger when he chokes on vowels. "Like, go to the park or.. something. Would you want to go to the park?"

Tails thinks for a moment and shakes his head.

"No, you don't play with me at the park, and I wanna spend my birthday with you, Sonic!"

Way to hit a hedgehog in his heart strings, huh? Normally when they're at a park there's other kids, so he lets them entertain themselves while he takes a nap on a nearby bench. He's not playing because he doesn't want to play, he's trying to encourage Tails to make friends. It seems, he may have screwed up somehow, not in any unfixable way though.

Sonic frowns, "If we go to the park I'm happy to play with you. Do you want to go?"

Tails shakes his head again, "I'm hungry."

Sonic laughs.

The diner staff are polite. They all have slow drawls that make it practically impossible for Sonic to actually listen to them, but by Gaia does he try. They just ask general questions; drinks, food, sauce, sides. Things like that. Sonic makes sure to mention Tails birthday as well, and the lady promises to come back with two free cupcakes.

The entire dinner flies by in no time at all. Tails does most of the talking, as usual, but Sonic tries harder to contribute to the conversations and ask engaging questions. Even when the fox starts going on and on about plane parts and upgrades that Sonic can't even begin to pronounce, let alone grasp what they do.

Soon enough, their dessert is out. Sonic has never been big on any types of sweets, so as soon as the happy birthday song the waiters sing is over he slides his cupcake to Tails side of the booth. It's more than worth it, even if he would've wanted the cupcake, because the kids eyes light up like Sonic has just handed him the stars.

"Are you gonna blow out your candle first?" Sonic chuckles, pointing at Tails own still sparking cupcake.

"Well duh!" He sasses, grinning.

"What're you gonna wish for?"

Again, Tails thinks, wrinkling his nose as if this is the most important question he's ever had to answer.

"It has t'be small." He says. "Just in case."

An eyebrow raise is shot Tails' way. "In case of what?"

"Well, the elders at the island always said wishin' comes at a price, that's why I was born with two tails y'see? So it can't be big, just in case, cuz I can't accidentally trade ya'up! You're more important to me than any wish ever!"

Before Sonic can respond, Tails has blown out his candle. The hedgehog's eyes are a little misty, and his nose is a little runny, unbeknownst to the little fox across from him. Never in Sonic's life has he had anyone be so.. so genuine to him. He's so beside himself with fondness he isn't quite sure what to do with it all, he feels so swollen with love he might explode.

Quietly, Sonic asks him what he wished for.

"Your long and pro-prosperous health! That means ya get to stay healthy for a long long time." Tails smiles but his face is deadly determined, as if he's truly trying to will his wish into existence by sheer force of will alone.

Sonic supposes he'll have to wish for the same thing on his birthday, just to make sure they're even.

Heyyyy y'all !! Should I probably wait until Tails actual birthday to post a birthday fic? Maybe. Do I care? Nope !! Come talk to me !! I don't bite I swear !!!

Sonic, in this fic for some reason: do you want to go to the park?

Tails: no I do not

Sonic: Have you ever gone to the park?

Tails: no I have not

Sonic: will you go to the park?

Tails: maybe...

Sonic: when will you go to the park?

Tails:

[sparkypantaloons]

I Protí Forá

Bruce loves his kids, he just really doesn't know how to say it. So he shows it instead, usually with ridiculous displays and gestures of affection. Because he's a billionaire, ya know? And also a massive dork.

Eleven year old Jason comes to realise all of the above, from the middle of the Aegean Sea.

The first time Jason gets on a plane he's eleven.

Bruce is taking them to Greece for a vacation. He says it's because work has been hectic, but Jason's pretty sure it's because he (Jason) has been reading The Odyssey. Bruce might be the whole big boss of Wayne Enterprises, but every meeting Jason's ever overheard from the study starts with Bruce saying "Hello!" all cheery before going "But let me hand you over to the most important man at Wayne Enterprises", and then Mr. Fox takes over, so it can't be all that hectic.

Besides, Bruce does stuff like this sometimes. Like once, Jason told him he'd never seen a basketball game and Bruce took them to see the Gotham Guardsmen versus the Chicago Bulls the very next week. They sat courtside, and Jason had the biggest load of nachos he'd ever had in his whole life, and Bruce even let him try a sip of his beer (which was gross, by the way). And then after the game Jason got to meet both teams and try and shoot some hoops with Michael Jordan, who just "happened" to be there (yeah right, Bruce) and he got a tour of the entire stadium.

So, when Bruce looked over the top of his paper one evening, with the same look he had when he asked if Jason wanted to be adopted, and said "Shall we go to Greece next week?" Jason's pretty sure it's 'cause he (Jason) was reading The Odyssey. And nothing to do with work.

They fly from Newark to Athens, in the first class suite on Etihad. They have their own mini apartment on the plane, with two wide-screen TVs and a double bed, their own bathroom and a shower. It's almost as big as Jason's old apartment in the squat he was living in before Bruce found him, but not quite. It's a lot nicer though and Jason can't quite believe all this is on a plane.

The air crew greet them with a smile and give them bags full of expensive 'amenities' and stuff and hand Bruce a glass of champagne. He tells them he used to have a private jet, but that they're terrible for the environment and he's trying to reduce his carbon footprint. He says it in that stupid voice he does when he's pretending to be what Dick calls a "himbo billionaire" but there's the secret grin at the corner of his mouth that's just for Jason, that makes Jason feel like he's with the best man in the world.

When they're somewhere over the Atlantic, the lady looking after their section asks if Jason would like to see the cockpit. It's not normally allowed, she says, but Mr. Wayne is such a good customer (and man, she adds, batting her eyes at Bruce over Jason's head, as though Jason wouldn't know what she meant) that the Captain has agreed to make an exception.

It's dusk, and the sky from the cockpit is bigger and more brilliant that Jason has ever seen. A glorious canvas of pastel pinks and purple hues, stretching up into a deep dark blue where stars are slowly beginning to blink into life. The Captain greets Jason with a smile and Bruce with a handshake. Explains what all the different lights and buttons and switches mean, and let's Jason wear her hat for a photo.

By the time they land in Athens, Jason is pretty sure this is the second best day of his life. (The first best is the day Bruce adopted him).

They're spend the night at a fancy hotel, in a room on top of a cliff over looking the Saronic Gulf, which Jason has never heard of but is apparently part of the Aegean Sea. They have their own private swimming pool and two huge beds - one each, though Bruce says Jason can still share if he wants to.

The air is warm and thick, even as the day begins to fade, and though he's not that good at swimming yet, Jason is desperate to jump straight into the pool. "After some supper," Bruce promises, sounding a lot like Alfred. But he keeps his word and the two of them lie on their inflatables as night falls. Above them, in the dark, there are more stars in the sky than Jason has seen in his whole life.

~

The first time Jason has been on a boat he's still eleven.

He and Bruce wander down to a little dock below the cliffs wearing matching boat shoes and shirts. Jason is wearing his Gotham Guardsmen cap and Bruce has a white strip of sunblock under his eyes.

"Technically it's a catamaran" Bruce tells Jason, explaining the difference between hulls of the two as they step aboard. "Kalimera George!" He says, "O gios mou, Jason. Jason, this is our skipper, George."

Later, many years later, Jason will know enough Greek to realise Bruce introduced him as his son, but as he steps aboard the cat all he can do is wonder what Bruce said, smile shyly and shake George's hand.

They sail south from Athens, passing the Temple of Poseidon in coastal Sounio and onto the Aegean Islands. Jason has finished The Odyssey by now, but has moved onto other Greek myths, Theseus and the Minotaur, Artemis and Apollo, Icarus and Daedalus. The sea is a brilliant, turquoise blue, diamond bright under the warm Mediterranean sun and by the time they reach the island of Kythnos, Jason is itching to jump in.

They find a secluded cove, with a small rocky beach and George drops anchor.

"Last one in is a Green Lantern fanboy!" Jason crows, and he leaps from the back deck into the crystal cool water.

It's his first time in the sea, any sea, and he can taste the salt on his lips. The water is calm and he bobs lightly, laughing as Bruce makes a strangled cry and leaps in after him.

"You love Green Lantern!" Jason teases, giggling with his head thrown back to keep it above the surface. He's not so good at treading water yet.

Bruce drifts over to him, pouting. "I wasn't ready, no fair." He says, pulling Jason towards him and onto his back.

Jason closes his eyes to the sun as Bruce swims them round the cove a little.

"Let's swim back to the cat." Bruce says, and Jason chews his lip because it's a little far. "I'll be right beside you." Bruce promises and they swim back to the boat, together.

That night they lie out on the deck and Bruce points out all of the constellations from the Greek myths; Orion and Cassiopeia and Hercules, though obviously Herakles is the proper Greek name for him.

"Whose your favourite Greek hero, B?" Jason asks, his head on Bruce's stomach.

And because he's corny like that, Bruce says "Jason."

~

Jason's first crush, the first one where it feels like something, he's eleven still, and he and Bruce are on a tiny island called Nykterides. It's a nature reserve for bats and other animals and, honestly, sometimes Bruce is such a nerd, because of course he owns the island too. And of course it's a bat-island. Bat species in the Aegean are vulnerable to habitat loss and climate change (apparently), so the island offers a safe refuge. He tells Jason all of this with a very serious look on his face and all Jason can think is what a huge dork Bruce is. There's a tightness in his chest as he listens to Bruce explain, but it takes him a little while to realise the feeling is fondness.

Only a few local families live on Nykterides, Bruce says, as they sail up to the tiny harbour. The buildings are square and white, with some blue domes but mainly flat, low roofs. Conservation staff also live on the island, scientists and biologists too, and there's a small taverna on the shore where they can eat and drink together.

A boy, no more than 19 greets them as they approach. "Kalispera, Mr. Wayne." He flashes them a smile and Jason feels a little breathless all of a sudden. The boy's skin is a glowing golden bronze, his hair falling in dark, rich waves.

"Kalispera, Giannis." Bruce says, a hand on Jason's head. "This is Jason."

"Ah, like the Argonaut?" Giannis asks with a wink, and something in Jason's stomach flips. He thinks about Apollo, most beautiful of all the God's and tries not to blush.

Giannis serves them lunch, and they sit with George and the others on the island, in the shade of a few palms. They eat fresh caught mussels and clams, with salad of tomatoes and cucumber and olives. Fresh cheese with honey, and rice and vegetables wrapped in vine leaves. Jason feels like he's living in a dream, grins up at Bruce and smiles shyly at Giannis as they clink their glasses and say "Yamas!".

As the evening wanes, Giannis tries to teach Jason a few words of Greek.

"Efcharisto," The words roll off Giannis' tongue and Jason finds himself staring at the older boy's mouth.

"Eff-ha-rist-oh" Jason repeats, and Giannis laughs and says it's close enough.

That night Jason goes to bed giddy and breathless and dreams of Apollo.

~

The first time Jason realises he loves someone, truly loves them, other than his Mom that is, he's twelve. Just.

He and Bruce have been sailing for a week or so now, island hoping across the Aegean and the Cyclades. The sea breeze is just enough to keep away the mid-August heat and Jason is sure there isn't a more beautiful part of the world to be found.

Bruce has been promising something special for Jason's birthday. He's spent a lot of time on a ridiculous satellite phone (because there are zero bars in the middle of the sea) trying to sort whatever it is out. If he thinks too much about it, Jason's stomach flips with excitement, because what could possibly top all of this? Bruce is ridiculously rich, and just plain ridiculous, so it's probably a helicopter up to Mount Olympus or something totally crazy, which to be fair, would be beyond cool.

But when the night before his birthday Bruce comes to him looking forlorn, Jason is worried.

"I'm sorry Jay," Bruce says, and it looks like he's in physical pain for how sorry he is. "I really wanted to do something special for your birthday but it isn't going to work out."

"That's okay," Jason says, but before he can continue Bruce speaks again and says,

"I wanted to take you to Themyscira, and Diana thought she could get you in, but Hippolyta said no."

For the briefest of moments, Jason thinks he might be disappointed, but instead there's a rush in his chest and he laughs, head back and heart full. "Bruce, you big boob!" He says, shoving Bruce's arm. "Men aren't allowed on Themyscira."

Bruce slips his arm around Jason and pulls him in close for a hug. "Yeah, but you're just a little man, not a whole one. I thought they might make an exception."

"It would have been cool," Jason muses, from where his face is squashed against Bruce's chest. "But then I couldn't have spent my birthday with you."

Bruce makes a noise in his throat and hugs Jason a little tighter.

"Love you, B." Jason says, and it's the first time he's ever said it to anyone that wasn't his Mom.

Bruce grunts again, and hugs Jason even tighter. "Happy birthday, lad." He mumbles.

The air is warm, and the catamaran bobs lightly in the water. Waves lap at the hull and Jason grins.

He and Bruce sit and watch the stars together.

[tangerinetrees]

things i noticed during my second watch of pinocchio:

carlo is killed in the church while looking at the jesus. later, pinocchio gets crucified and loses the same arm that the jesus statue did

the circle vignette gfx of geppetto in front of the exploded church is the only one in the entire film - this type of transition is called an iris wipe or iris shot

i love the wood instrument soundtrack

probably obvious but the fairy lights that look like will o the wisp are the angel’s eyes

“i look after the small things, the forgotten things” camera pans to geppetto

pinocchio’s little yodeling in his first song - they’re in northern italy. the map of the carnival’s travel also shows this

in the church scene, when ppl are calling pinocchio a devil and witch and so on, one lady calls him “demonio!” even though the english captions say ‘demon’

additionally, someone yells “malocchio!” which means evil eye

pinocchio getting new feet parallels carlo getting new shoes in the beginning

volpe… vulpes… fox, as in the character from the book

relatedly, his cane has a fox head carved on it

during pinocchio’s first show, volpe promises to make him “burn bright like a star,” and then he uses those exact words when he tries to kill pinocchio

he also calls pinocchio a fire hazard

it’s the podesta and his wife that hit pinocchio with the truck

during the ciao papa song, when geppetto is walking in the rain, sebastian cricket has a tiny red umbrella

mussolini’s giant red convertible has a gold hood ornament. the hood ornament is a tinier mussolini doing the facist salute

the signs held by the crowd that greets mussolini at catania say “SI!”

the ceiling pillar in the boys barracks says OBBEDIRE COMBATTERE

the music that plays in the bg during the kids’ flag/war game is an instrumental of the propaganda song pinocchio sang earlier

when sebastian is in geppetto’s shirt pocket, it’s right over the old man’s heart (aka where he lives in pinocchio)

carlo’s grave was carved by geppetto, but geppetto’s and spazzatura’s graves were carved by pinocchio

[television-overload]

fate is the handspike

(an X-Files ficlet)

[Read on AO3]

Summary:

Starting on February 23, 1964, Teena Mulder begins to worry about her young son. At first, she thinks maybe he's wishing for a little sister, a wish that will be granted very soon. But he insists the little girl he talks to is called Dana, and she's too little to play, but she likes when he reads his books to her.

(fic below the cut)

i.

At first, Teena thinks it's cute.

"She's just a baby, mommy, she can't play yet," he'd say.

"Oh, is that right?" she'd reply, indulging him in his childish fantasies. Perhaps this was his way of asking for a sister. The other moms in the neighborhood often urged her to give Fox a sibling, citing a child's need for company and social engagement, but Fox had always seemed so happy to play alone. She's not on the best of terms with her husband at the moment, either, which complicates things.

But then there's times when she sees Fox on the floor, legs splayed out before him as he recites his favorite picture books to his imaginary friend, and she wonders if she ought to be worried. Just a little.

Dr. Seuss, Curious George, Clifford the Big Red Dog... The boy has a photographic memory. Though he's too young to properly read, he has a grasp on the basic plots and recounts them in great detail, turning the pages as he goes.

"This one is called 'Where the Wild Things Are,' Dana," he says, because his friend's name—he insists—is Dana. He turns the book in his hand and shows the colorful illustration on the cover to a patch of carpet on the living room floor. "Don't worry, it's not scary," he assures her. Her. It. Whatever it is he's spent his days talking to since late February.

When he tells the story, he uses his own name, instead of 'Max.' That's how she'd always read it to him, and that's the only way he knows.

"And Fox told the monsters to be still!" he narrates with enthusiasm. "He used a magic trick and looked right in their BIG yellow eyes, and they were all scared. They said Fox is the most wild thing of all, and they made him king!"

ii.

There was one night when she'd woken to find Fox standing in the corner of his room, speaking softly to the wall.

"Shh, it's okay, Dana," he soothed in his little voice. "Here, I'll sing you a song. Twinkle twinkle little star...."

She never tells Bill what she's seen. He's always too busy to notice himself. But others know.

"He's quite an imaginative young fellow," Spender notes, taking a draw from his cigarette as Fox rolls around in the grass outside the house in Quonochontaug. Since "Dana" learned to crawl, he's been even more preoccupied than usual. He shows her all his toys, tells her the names of all his action figures. He announces to his mother one day that he's going to teach Dana how to walk. That she can only stand on her own for a little bit right now, but she doesn't cry anymore when she falls down.

Bill, if he ever catches wind of this, must think he's talking about one of the other kids from Teena's ladies' group. But there's no "Dana" in this neighborhood. Not on the Vineyard, either. She's checked.

iii.

The day she finds out she's pregnant, a part of her wonders. Though her knowledge of her husband's work is small, she knows enough to gather that things she might have thought impossible, could in fact be possible. Perhaps her son had been having visions of his baby sister, long before she was even conceived. Maybe it had simply been a sign that he would one day be a big brother. Soon.

She'd long since dispelled thoughts of ghosts and hauntings and exorcisms.

He tells Dana all about the baby in mommy's tummy. He giggles and makes silly faces, pausing in between sentences, which she gathers must mean his friend has developed the ability to speak.

"Mommy, she said my name! That's right! Fox! Fox!"

iv.

When Samantha is born, "Dana" seems to disappear overnight. This, at least, supports her theory that he had simply been preparing himself for a new sibling, and after a few years, she's completely dismissed the issue. Fox shows no other signs of strange or unusual behavior. He is nothing but a doting big brother, who occasionally gets annoyed by his freckle-faced kid sister, as any brother is wont to do. He reads to her, plays games with her, watches the television with her. They're two peas in a pod, and not once does the name "Dana" escape his lips. She is all but forgotten.

Until he's twelve years old. Samantha is gone, and Teena lacks the patience to deal with his questioning.

"Mom? Does the name 'Dana' mean anything to you?" he asks.

"What? Of course not, Fox, why would you ask such a thing?"

He looks down at his feet, shoulders slumping. "No reason. Forget I asked."

v.

When Fox lays awake at night, the bedroom next to his now dull and empty, he thinks he can hear a voice. It isn't Samantha's—though he'd thought so at first.

"By heaven, man," she reads, "we are turned round and round in this world, like yonder windlass, and Fate is the handspike. And all the time, lo! that smiling sky, and this unsounded sea!"

What does this girl know about fate? What does she know of this upside-down world?

"Read the next chapter, Dana!" he hears another girl's voice speak. The words are faint—muffled—like he's underwater. But her voice is clear.

He falls asleep, like most nights, listening to the tales of Ahab and Starbuck, and a great white whale.

-.-.-

Tag List ♡: @today-in-fic @agent-troi @baronessblixen @captainsolocide @cutemothman @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @hippocampouts @invidiosa @numinousmysteries @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @teenie-xf @thursdayinspace

[fujimomozane]

Magister Merlin Starhawk Info

Magister Merlin Starhawk, aka Merlin, Starhawk, Mage of the Stars, Starry Mage, a lazy bum who forgets to bring mugs out of his room, The Godfather of Magic, among others, is a half-treesprite half-human mage who was born in 200 B.H.W (Before the Hypogean War). 

  He is renowned as the discoverer of magic in around 190 B.H.W, having discovered healing magic by saving his hamster, Hammie, from near death- she later became the first-ever familiar. It is said that Dura herself granted him the key to unlock magic as a mortal. 

  He discovered almost all types of magic, including transformation spells by turning into a starhawk, and glamour spells by binding his chest. 

  He participated in the Hypogean-Celestial War of 1 A.H.W. (After the Hypogean War). It was rumored that he had become a Celestial. 

  After centuries of critical research in magic, astronomy, alchemy, potions, and natural sciences, Magister Merlin Starhawk disappeared in the 15th century A.H.W., often called "The Fall" of the mage, in keeping with the star theme. 

  He first reappeared in 17th century A.H.W., disappeared again, and did so a second time. The legends about the mage continued to spread across the world. 

  The third time, he appeared in the current year 1824 A.H.W. without his memories. He is slowly regaining them, but some are out of reach, as though they are locked away. 

  Hammie knows only that he has been "restarted" thrice, where he was the times he vanished is a mystery to everyone. Not much changed with each restart. 

  But by the third restart, his horns were reduced to nearly imperceptible buds that grow when he finds out more about his past, and binds were placed to keep his incredibly strong magic at bay. 

  Merlin will recover his memories no matter what they might reveal and meet new people along the way. 

  Hopefully, they will steer him clear of repeating his Fall. 

  Relationships: Talene (ex-best friend), Dionel (ex-friend), Hypogeans (enemies), Hammie & Chippy (familiars), Dolly (house caretaker), Lady Illucia (???), Cecia (???), General Hogan (a friend from his second restart), Mirael (student from his second restart), Valen (good friend), Rowan (like a niece to him), Lyca (astronomy friend), Cassade (biggest fan), Bryon (bird man and friend), Soren & Alsa (friends), Silverbeak (minion), Satrana (divination expert), Sinbad (good friend), Hugin (engineering buddy), Sonja & Lucca (intimidating friends), Tasi (friend), Bols (fishing expert). 

Posted this so people have some info on Merlin before I post any fanfics, in case someone is curious or doesn't want to read future ff to get info on him. Bonus random facts I couldn't fit in properly below cut:

  Bonus random facts I couldn't fit in properly but will probably be covered in future fanfic: He's 165cm tall.  He's a vegetarian because he feels bad for animals. He faints... a lot. He's trans and intersex. Collects minerals and watches, and he is obsessed with birds and hamsters. His identity as treesprite-human has been lost over the ages so he hides his ears and horn stubs (which seem to be slowly growing as he regains his memories?) Has an enchanted hat that he seldom takes off. Has a lot of nightmares. Has endless pseudonyms, his latest being "Vulpin" (because he saw a drawing of a fox on a building) upon introduction to Valen. Eventually Valen finds out about the charade though.

Ironically, he has poor long-range vision (about -1 in each eye, but the right sees worse).  Has a penchant for extravagant outfits.  The two golden bands around his hair don't come off.   He went grey at the ripe old age of... 20. His original hair color was bronze, and he wanted to keep his brows dark even after he turned grey, but the spell went awry and now they are permanently jet black along with his lashes. 

  His eyes have always been yellow- a gift from Misarte, according to the wilders.   His mother was a treesprite musician from Vaduso, and his father was an human ex-sailor and merchant from Holistone. His mother was 210 centimeters tall (without her horns, mind you) and his father was 180 centimeters tall. Neither were short, but Merlin is the outlier in terms of height in his family. His grandmothers always blamed it on him not eating enough. He thinks he just lucked out. 

[nxtt2-u]

⏤ the moon doesn’t mind masterlist ࣪ ⤹

yang jeongin has never been favored by lady luck. the stars practically write it out for him the night his mother abruptly dies at the ripe age of 15, leaving him borderline catatonic in his grief. when he’s discarded by his village to the deep woods for his notorious hybrid lineage, you discover him on the brink of death and introduce him to a new life. as you go through hardships alongside your new companion, you don’t expect for the simple camaraderie to blossom into something more — however, you’re delightfully proven wrong as the years pass.

꒰ yang jeongin + fem!reader ⏤ wc tbd ꒱ series

༄ series info & warnings !! strangers to lovers. fantasy & anachronistic au; witch!reader, fox hybrid!jeongin. slow burn romance; angst, fluff, & eventual smut ⋆ each chapter may contain sensitive topics & will have their own warnings – read at your own discretion.

✉️𓂃 ࣪˖ reader is described to be 5’8 with long hair and a muscular body. she’s 2 years older than jeongin. there’s no description of her ethnicity, though she goes by the fake name jeong chaewol, meaning ‘peaceful bright moon,’ to hide her identity (rest assured, it’s rarely used).

chapters જ⁀➴ the first chapter is expected to arrive in late september/october. taglist for this series is open.

2024 © nxtt2-u on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

[obscuretobyfox]

OBSCURE TOBY FOX CHARACTER BRACKET!!

WELCOOOOMEE LADIES AND- LADIES AND- TO THE Obscure TOBY FOX CHARACTER BRACKET TOURNAMENT CHALLENGE ULTIMATE 100 DAYS FOREVER TOURNEY!!! I– I–  I AM YOUR. “ALL STAR” FOR THE. AND!! YOU WILL ENJOY TODAY’S PRESENTATION! I– I– PRESENT TO. THE PARTICI”PINTS” (BECAUSE THEY ARE SO. TEEEENY!)

OUR FIRST: PARTICIPANT. IS KNOW AS! “Glyde” THIS! IS KNOWN. FOR BEING SECRET IN UnderTale, A BOSS THAT IS IN A SECRET ROOM. CAN YOU FIND. “IT”? No,

OUR. 2 ANT, “Red Demon”. They are a: SMILE, SMILE!!

OUR TIRD, PRESENTATION! “Squeezo”. They are known as the LOST COUSIN!! Of. the Huma LOOK!! (Pictured above is not the aforementioned “Squeezo.”. Squeezo is lost to time. Or perishing. Sorry)

OUR FOUR!   TH, ONE– HE– IS THE “Arn Tie Ripped” AFTER ALL!! HE HAS HAD A “Winter Quest”, you could SAY!! Known for the TOby Fox. Earthbound HACK! (The first of. 666666666

IN . FIV!E ……

punsel

FOR SIX: WE HAVE FOUND: THE. ONLY! THE One…. ….. TONY FOX! For Undertale! IT IS

SEVEN = …..NINTENY EIGHT

EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHShe is the- OF THE COOL! Of “Even Flow!” I think

NUMBER …… wait, TEN! THE 10TH. CON”TEST”ANT (Because we are Testing their Likeablilety.) Is JIGSAW JOES. he tells you of the “Tu Toriel”

IN THE ELEVENTH = the Every Man! Some Say he is Every Ma

TWEL(VE)FTH of DRESS LION!!! This Funky Fellow has Found their

 It is About FOURTEEN. “Doctor Andonuts” HE IS NOT IN THE RIGHT GAME and also he might Say SOMETHING REALLY OFFENSIVE SO BE CAREFU

For a NUMBER of FIFTH EEN! We ARE LOOKING AT  Whatever This guys is named, I can’t

AND FINALLY; FOR YOUR AND FINAL CONTEST ANT! . number sixeen IS DOGE the Unknown and Obscure Toby Fox Character

OKAY!! THANK You for SEEING. LET THE GAME! (s) BEGINNING!!

ROUND 1

[darkspellmaster]

Wish is just a normal Disney film just like all the rest.

Wish is actually a damn good movie, there I said it!

I'm going to start by saying this much, it's very odd to me that so many people are now screaming for a love story from Disney, when not even five or ten years ago there was shouting from the roof tops about Disney doing TOO MUCH romance. For the longest time it was "I wish Disney wouldn't do pairings" "Ugh another romance, can't the princess not." Etc. Now everyone wants one, even though Romance isn't really as big a Disney trope as people think.

Actually let's go through the animated catalogue and see how frequently the love story is centered as the main conflict and asperation to the character. In this case it's the key thing, not a 'Oh they happen to like each other in the end' situation, it's THE thing, the point of the movie is their romance. Then let's see how many have it as the secondary aspect, and let's see how many have it as not important at all. (And we're talking romantic love, not family love)

Romance (Total number: 15)

Snow White, Lady and the Tramp, The Aristocats, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame (Secondary Characters hook up so this is a weird one), Doug's First Movie, Tarzan, Lizzie McGuire the Movie, Enchanted, The Princess and the Frog (Only from Naveen's POV), Tangled (could be seen as secondary too)

Secondary (Total Number: 25)

Fantasia, Bambi, Make Mine Music, Fun and Fancy Free , Melody Time, The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad, Cinderella Sleeping Beauty

One Hundred and One Dalmatians , Robin Hood, The Rescuers , The Fox and the Hound , Who Framed Roger Rabbit, The Rescuers Down under

The Nightmare before Christmas, The Lion King ,Hercules ,Mulan ,Fantasia 2000 , Dinosaur, Atlantis the Lost Empire , Meet the Robinsons , Frankenweenie ,Frozen, , Strange World

Not in it at all (Total Number: 42 -including Wish)

Pinocchio, The Reluctant Dragon, Dumbo, Saludos Amigos, Victory through Air power, Three Caballeros, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan

Sword in the Stone, The Jungle Book, The Many Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, The Black Cauldron, The Great Mouse Detective

Oliver and Company, Ducktales the Treasure of the lost lamp, A Goofy Movie, James and the Giant Peach, The Tigger Movie

The Emperor's new Groove, Recess School's out, Return to Neverland, Lilo and Stich, Treasure Planet, The Jungle Book 2

Piglet's big Movie, Brother Bear, Teacher's Pet, Home on the Range, Pooh's Heffalump Movie, Chicken Little, The Wild

Bolt, Winnie the Pooh, Wreck it Ralph, Big Hero 6, Zootopia, Moana, Wreck it Ralph 2, Frozen 2, Raya and the Last Dragon, Encanto, Wish

These are just the animated not live action, and not live action with animation movies. All in all it's more common to see a Disney film with NO romance in it at all then a romantic one.

So why is it that people keep saying, but we're missing the romance, it's because of the fact that most of the time the Parks and other media pair the characters together. Take Peter pan, in the movie, the boy is utterly oblivious to Wendy's affections, to the point of pissing her off enough that she leaves the party that the tribe is hosting. In the parks, and other media (the plays, other movies) the romance is in your face, because people want them to be a couple, but in the movie itself you never see it.

Star, based on the making of book, was supposed to be a younger version of Asha's grandfather, which fits the theming of the movie. However, from what I understand, one of the reasons why they went against is was because it was hitting to close to Genie in the shape shifting. On top of that, the character of Star, seems heavily inspired by the art work of William Joyce, who created Night Light.

This is him and Katherine (Future Mother Goose) who is basically Star in a lot of ways. He lights the night to keep the nightmares away. These two eventually grow up (He remembers He's jack frost) and they end up as a couple.

It would be apping off of that story, and sadly people didn't give the William Joyce movie Meet the Robinsons a chance (don't sleep on that folks please! It is a good story.)

Also straight up give more love to the Guardian's of Childhood, you'll be happy while you read it.

I'm not saying don't ship it, what I am saying is that please don't go saying this was planned when it really wasn't. That was supposed to be her grandfather there.

And I'm not against the art work, I find it very cute and sweet and lover the designs. But I do think that the whole, "WE WERE ROBBED!" thing isn't being at all fair to the creative team behind this story, as again, *points up* they were following the tradition of a story that doesn't have a love interest, which is the vast majority of the stories that they tell.

Wish perfectly falls in line also with Disney's normal length of animated movies.

Wish was 1 hours and 35 minutes

The movie that came out before it clocked in at

Strange World = 1 hours and 42 minutes

Moana = 1 hours and 47 minutes

Frozen = 1 hours and 42 minutes

This Hour long movie thing started really with Atlantis the Lost Empire = 1 hours and 36 minutes

While Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin, Mulan, Lilo and Stitch all clock in around =1 hour and 30 at most, some are even less than that. Wish's run time is equal to that of Atlantis, or Aladdin, or Treasure planet. So I'm a bit perplexed on the "It's too short" thing. Maybe growing up just before and during the days of Little Mermaid and Aladdin made me like the shorter tales.

Which is another point. With a shorter movie, you never get complete backstory. It's a fairy tale! I mean, look at Little Mermaid. Seriously can you Name any of her sisters from the opening song.

Like seriously, I don't really know a lot of people who can tell me anything about Aquatica, for example. Unless you actually read the books or watched the TV show. And before then we had nothing. Nothing on her mom, nothing on her sisters.

Then there's the town Belle comes from, what do we know about it? Not much, not even who governs the damn thing. Howe about Aladdin before the TV series and King of thieves cleared up everything. We didn't know who his parents were, nor Jasmine's mom. Hell we still don't know anything about Cinderella's father from the animated movie.

Point being, a lot of information, much like Wish, got cut for time. In Snow white we were supposed to be given a longer back story for her father and mother, that was cut due to it being to long, it's in the golden book though. Prince Florian (Yes that is his name) was supposed to have Prince Phillips escape, but it was deemed to hard to animate at the time.

Also there was one that was dancing on the clouds, with STARS, around them that looks very much like you know, our Star.

So basically, he's a nod to what could have been for Snow White all those years ago. Cut for time.

Aladdin had a whole cut song because they chopped his mother out as she was supposed to play a part in the movie and help her son with the Genie.

Zena is her name and she was cut to streamline the film.

Maid Marian in the original Robin Hood was supposed to protect him after his plunge into the water, and protect him from King John while he's threatening her. King Richard appears in the end and scares him into stopping but she's willing to take a dagger to the chest to protect Robin.

This is when Richard meets Robin with Marian telling him all about what happened.

All Disney movies change. Isabel in Encanto was supposed to have a nerdy boyfriend that the family disapproved of.

Hell, Frozen was at one point going to be the Bad guy wins the guy, the hero (Gerta) that we followed all the way to the end rooting for her, was supposed to be a gold digger, and Kai was supposed to say "Nah, I'm gonna stick with the Snow Queen" because she's sad and your a bitch. (Thanks Eisner, I hate it!)

So yeah, there's probably A whole lot of cut content that was supposed to go in, but to streamline it to 95 minutes, you have to cut! At least it's not what happened to the Black Cauldron. No I will never forgive Katzenburg for that travesty!

Disney always used Popular Music over Broadway

Honestly this is the one complaint that I hear that kills me the most about this movie, that the studio went with a pop music team. As if this is not a common thing for Disney movies!

Fun fact, the team behind most of the musical scores up until the 1960s were all composers and musicians that wrote songs for the radio. Or song writers that did radio music. If I listed every single one we'd be here for ages.

The Sherman brothers actually wrote pop tunes for the Teen sweetheart Annette Funicello and several other well known singers and actors of movies.

The first major Broadway group was Ashman and Menken, Followed by Miranda, and the Lopez's. Most, if not all of the biggest Disney songs were written by pop songwriters, whos goal it was to get that song played on the radio.

Hell The Lion King, Tarzan, The Emperors New Groove, and Treasure planet to name a few were all done by Pop musicians. I didn't hear complaining about it back then! What's the difference now? Because the team is not Elton freaking John, or Sting?

All of Oliver and Company was pop songs. Several movies didn't have songs, or only had one.

If we're going to celebrate a studio that helped bring an artform out of it's infancy and show that you could do a full movie of animated pictures where you get emotions out of it, we need to celebrate all aspects, and that includes things we may not realize are kind of unique.

When Hercules and Hunchback came out, people complained about them not being "Traditional" Disney. It was Gospel, it was too dark, or in the case of Tarzan, why are we following a boy, or Treasure planet, "Yuck a space story". Now people adore these movies. People who grew up with them want to celebrate them, and sometimes they don't realize that they were once derided as hard or harder than Wish is being right now.

I just wish that people would give these movies a chance rather than not let the creatives tell their story. We had a whole damn section of 2D animation in Strange World! No one talked about it! No one went "More of this please". Give me these stories, let me enjoy a original fairy tale, because if we keep rehashing things, there's going to be little to celebrate when the next 10 or 20 years rolls around.

Sorry for the kinda rant. This has just been on my nerves for a while.

[crystallizsch]

i remember getting tingyun when i was playing honkai star rail for the first time and thought omg pretty fox lady

i got attached and i was not even in the xianzhou arc yet 🧍

[dollfaced-erin]

I see you open for request, can I request how y/n(dan jia) meet the character? Because I want to know how we meet the character

Character : jing yuan, yingxing, jingliu and that fox lady. I forgot her name hehehe✌✨

Is it just open for scenario?

Definitely like your fanfic about dragon's cradle

I will wait for more update from the fanfic! ✨

I will request again if I have idea and your request is open :)

AWHH !! THANK YOU FOR REQ THIS !!

since this is very heavily reliant on canon events, everything in this scenario is just headcanons ! just for a little fluff <3

in this headcanon, Jing Yuan is already an adult. though i see many people referring Jing Yuan as a child in many mvs, but if im not mistaken, jing yuan was already a general before everything happened.

ONCE AGAIN ! i will replace the name Dan Jia with (Y/n), for more comfort, but this timeline was actually when Dan Jia was still 'alive'. But still, this is just a head canon, nothing too serious, so have fun !

OH ANOTHER THING ! i made dan jia/ (Y/n)'s horns blue for the sake of the story, and her powers are ice. She wields a crystal fan, and follows the path of abundance. Like Dan Feng, who is the Imbibator Lunae (drinker of the moon), (Y/n) is the Saltator Lunae (dancer of the moon), a name given to her due to the unforeseen fate of having two individuals that could inherit the dragon heart after successfully undergoing the Transmutation Arcanum.

Taglist ! : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou , @sincerely-aaronette

"Jing Yuan, I want you to meet someone," the icy cold voice of his master entered her ears.

The practicing knight looked up from his place, looking to his right where his master in blue and white was standing. The sword that was strong in his grasp was let loosened as he stood straight, sheathing the sword into its scabbard.

Jing Yuan's golden eyes widened as he looked up. Behind his master was a young woman, who had similar features to the Imbibator Lunae he had grown close to. Not facial features, rather the unique features the dragon's predecessors have. The horns and the glowing (e/c) eyes, that brim with potential and power.

"This is (Y/n). Dan Feng's sister. She'll be training with me to hone her ice powers. It never hurts to learn more." Jingliu said, looking at the young lady behind her a hand gestured out for (Y/n). Jing Yuan blushed a little at the sight of the dragon lady before him. And it seemed that Jingliu noticed the gaze of her student.

"Jing Yuan. Be nice to her." "I'm always nice !" "No flirting."

Jing Yuan's face burst into a deep crimson shade. He was still a young adult., mind you. He was still pretty new with relationships. Future Jing Yuan would've probably pat his back and laughed at the shyness of his past self.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm (Y/n), the Saltator Lunae." (Y/n) said, a light chuckle leaving her pink lips as she bowed to him. Jing Yuan's eyes widened and he bowed back. "J-Jing Yuan. Th-the pleasure is mine."

Though this is the first time he met this dragon lady who raised her head before him, this isn't the first time he's seen this lady. No, not when Jing Yuan remembers those (e/c) eyes that shone as brightly as the stars, and were as clear as glass.

The swordsmith was walking peacefully in the night at the bazaar, tired after a full day slaving by the fire, creating weapons with his own hand. Yingxing felt fulfilled more than anything, as he had the power to bring his creations to life. The soft gaze of the moon above him as if blessing him for all his hard work.

There was once, he received a commission unique to all other works. It was an odd request for a swordsmith like himself to create such an accessory, but since it was from a dear friend of that requested him to try, even going as far as to provide the materials, Yingxing thought that he might as well give it a shot.

In his hand, Yingxing held a beautiful glass hairpin he had molded with his own hands. The small accessory was embedded with stunning pearls and precious quartz, that was obviously hard to find from the exquisite quality. He felt almost saddened to part with it.

It almost felt...unreal to see the familiar shine of that...rainbow quartz shining beneath the moonlight. Yingxing reached out to it, but the said shine disappeared within the sea of residents of the Xianzhou ship. But he needed to find it, he needed to reach out, to see who was actually the beholder of that precious hair ornament.

Closer and closer Yingxing walked, pushing through the sea of people without harming anyone. His amber eyes scanned through the crowd, and came back in sight with the glass hairpin he had dedicated his soul into making.

A woman. A beautiful woman who had her hair held up with the beautiful stick made with the finest items. Yingxing reached out to the woman, his hand caught by the Imbibator Lunae who had a smirk.

"I knew you'd find her by the hairpin in her hair. Yingxing, meet my sister, (Y/n)." the High Elder said, and the woman beside him turned around, horns on her head.

Yingxing never knew that the hairpin he thought to be a failure at first was actually the most beautiful thing he has seen under the moonlight.

'Once...once again....again !' Were the things the master ice woman repeated in her mind time and time again as she swung her sword tirelessly. Who cares if her hands dripped with blood ? Who cares if her hands were sore from the splintered wood in her hands ? That's right. Not even Jingliu herself cared about it.

She kept swinging her sword towards the dummy. Time and time again she leapt into the air like a snowstorm, slashing her weapon infused with her ice powers, obliterating all the dummies she just had repaired. Jingliu was strong...but in her eyes, it wasn't strong enough, not precise enough...not fast enough.

Jingliu landed on the ground with a thump of her shoes beneath her feet, her expression filled with distaste and disappointment to herself. She cared not for the stinging in her hands, the blood dripping down and staining the stone pavement beneath her shoes.

"That's enough. Take a break." a soft and tender voice called out. Five slender fingers landed on her shoulder, snapping Jingliu out of her trance. She was quite disturbed to who had pulled her out of her zone, but as she turned behind, (e/c) eyes were staring deep into her red eyes.

"Your hands...wont be able to heal if you push yourself any longer without medical attention." the dragon lady said, peeling open Jingliu's hand, forcing her to drop the sword from her hands. Jingliu was so stunned by the sudden appearance of this woman, who she had never realized from earlier.

"Come. I'll heal your hands. And maybe you should take a break. Doctors always say that with a slight break, your body would be able to breathe and you'll be able to do better." the woman said, pulling Jingliu along with her, the tender and soft (s/c) hand holding onto her bloody and calloused hand.

"Who...are you ?" Jingliu asked the dragon woman before her, though she would be crazy not to know who this woman was with the horns on her head symbolizing her importance. And the woman smiled warmly and answered simply with a small smile. "My name is (Y/n)."

And as their friendship bloomed between the two ice women, Jingliu had been inspired by (Y/n)'s dances and elegance. And with that in mind, she had forged her signature move, earning her the name, Transcendent One.

(Y/n) gazed up to the sky, watching the starskiffs race around. She wished how she could have some freedom of her own. How free she would feel, in the sky above, travelling with the stars. She kept thinking about it, while sipping at the canned peach tea in her hands as she walked.

Her thoughts were cut short when she heard storming of boots and thumps her ears had recognized to belong to those in the Cloud Knights. And as she turned, there was indeed a group of 4 knights chasing after a purple foxian woman who was jeering at the knights who weren't able to catch up to her.

"Hah ! You thought !" the purple foxian said, looking back and pulling her tongue out at them. That was, until she turned front and realized there she was running into someone.

Without time and reflex to stop or to turn, Baiheng did the craziest thing she could ever do. Which was grab at the hand of the woman that was walking along politely like an average law-abiding citizen of the Xianzhou.

Baiheng pulled along the woman who was quite startled by the sudden pull and run, dropping her canned drink behind as she was suddenly pulled along. The drink fell from her hands and spilt onto the ground as the two of them ran.

"H-hey, wait !" "Sorry ! I'll make it up to you, I promise !" Baiheng exclaimed in pure horror, clearly not understanding her own reflex to pull along this innocent and clueless dragon woman with her.

"Anyway ! My name is Baiheng ! Pleasure to meet you !" the foxian said, flashing a bright, toothy smile to (Y/n) who laughed along with this cheerful foxian.

;;sorry if some of them weren't good,, i really didnt have much idea for them,,, i hope you had fun reading these !

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Promises Five: The Hunt

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Dream of the Endless had been promised a bride.

A/N: I'll offer song recs to folks who are interested in asks! Still dealing with some mental health issues, but pushing through. HOLY SHIT THE NEXT CHAPTER. 0,0 Liking is sweet, commenting is divine. Talk to the lonely hermit, people. Her dog is tired of her shit.

The hounds sang after the hinds, and their masters followed them under the trees.

In the distance, the high castle sat like a toy house from which all the dolls had escaped, spreading their games and pageantry through the forest with bells and horns to warn away the deer and fox. Huntsmen released other deer, fox, and fowl from prearranged cages out of sight of the king and his swarm of courtiers, so the dolls could play pretend at feats of skill.

The bard kept to the back, holding a tight rein on her grey mare – who didn’t understand why she couldn’t stop and graze if the bard insisted on moving so slowly – in the company of the ladies Alder. Eilwyn, who’d visited the bard’s chamber two nights past, glimmered and glowed, illuminated like a piece of art in the dappled sunlight and the eyes of a few dozen would-be suitors. Officially, no one could pay court until the Endless had his pick. Unofficially, Eilwyn had received six declarations of love, five bad poems about her eyes, one good poem about her hair, and an uninspired puzzle box containing a gaudy necklace without a single gem of value.

Eilwyn loved it all, of course.

But as the younger woman amused herself snaring hearts for her collection, the bard conversed with the Dowager Alder, Eilwyn’s grandmother.

“The city lights are unbearable,” the elder Alder insisted. “My eyes are bad enough as it is, but when every street and tavern glows like the moon, I can hardly make out the planets with my telescope, let alone the fainter stars. With the travel time, I’ll lose whole weeks of work, and gods know if I’ll be alive to note my calculations this time next year.”

Manly shouts and howling dogs suggested something ahead had died, or was about to. The bard wondered how many of these fools in their fine furs would discover the material cost of bloodsport when they couldn’t scrub the stains from their velvets in the morning.

“You say that every year.”

The Elder Alder, on her aged palfrey, squinted at the green canopy shielding her beloved sky and tutted.

“And one year I’ll be right, like I always am in the end.”

The woman was an astronomer, a mathematical magician, and the idea of death hadn’t scared her since the bard first met her as a young maid. The wheel of the heavens moved before her, and it would move after, and that was well enough if she could just understand the damn thing before she shuffled off this mortal coil. She’d written books, and papers, and more books, and the bard wondered if Death would really hold off until the universe held no more mysteries. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Of course, Lady Alder.”

Arthritis had long-since gnarled the lady’s hands, and they twisted over the saddle pommel and a hank of her horse’s main like knobby cypress knees, straining with the roll and sway of her palfrey’s gait.

“How far is the damned camp?”

Another lady – one of the fools hoping to wed her daughter to the Endless riding very far ahead near the king – seized the reins of her precious child’s horse and passed the odd trio. She did not look to the side. She did not look at anything. She lifted her nose far too high. And she nearly trotted over her own servants in passing.

The bard waved, and the daughter gawked with wide eyes as she was spirited away from poor influences and dangerous words. Really, any damage was already done, and fleeing the scene of battle only showed weakness. What kind of lesson would the girl really learn besides the fact that her mother enjoyed making a spectacle of her piety? Parents really had the strangest ideas about children.

“Grandmother!” Eilwyn exclaimed, clearly delighted.

The bard, equally delighted, couldn’t help herself. “Such language from so fair a lady. Shocking.”

The Dowager shifted in her saddle, face puckered in discomfort. “Hush, the both of you.”

Oh, if only she could. She laughed to imagine how much pain and trouble might’ve been saved. And how many adventures missed. They never would’ve been friends at all if the bard kept her own counsel.

“You expect a bard to hold her tongue?”

“The sun will freeze first.” The Dowager made a point of staring down her granddaughter, though, and her granddaughter made a point of smiling very prettily in reply. A lord several lengths ahead called for Lady Eilwyn’s attention, and she brokered an armistice by riding out of her grandmother’s line of sight entirely, leaving the two old companions to fight their own wars.

“My old bones are not made for riding.”

A jolt of pity seared the bard’s belly like the pain after eating a rotten fish. She’d rather purge it and be done, but the prickling discomfort would only grow with age. There was no course but to swallow it down and imagine it hurt much less than it would in time.

“Why didn’t you take the coach then? It could’ve brought you in comfort.”

Swollen knuckles flexing, the lady scoffed. “With the rest of the invalids? Don’t insult me.”

“But it’s so much fun, old friend.”

“Old,” Lady Alder muttered. “Yes. I am that.”

The bard shifted in her own saddle, wondering if she could stomach any of the inevitable banquet awaiting them.

“That wasn’t the word I’d hoped you’d echo.”

An eye sharper than any hawk’s pinned her from the side, and she felt like a child caught sulking. “If you need reassurance as to that, then you are not half so clever as you make yourself out to be.”

She seized on the opportunity for levity and smiled with all her teeth. “You’ve known me for a fool many years, have you not?”

“Aye, but a clever one.” The lady considered. “Most days.”

“Such praise you give me.”

“You fished for it so often the lake is empty.”

“Unfair but not untrue.”

The lady hummed her affirmation, welcoming in a moment of calm as they road in the wake of the hunt’s chaos.

Ahead, those most eager to prove themselves brought down smaller prey on their way to the day’s camp. Once all had a chance to refresh themselves with wine as their horses grazed, most would sally out again in the name of dead beasts. Dusk would bring them back, and they’d spend the night drinking, feasting, and debauching one another just outside the safe ring of torchlight, pretending to be very daring and wild for fucking someone in a bush.  A bit more hunting in the morning for those who could still sit straight in the saddle, and then all would return bloody and victorious to the castle.

The bard struggled to understand those who found the prospect of a royal hunt… thrilling. None worried to go home hungry, and the creatures they met in the wood came hobbled, with teeth filed and tusks blunted.

Rushing down a winding stair risked greater peril.

Bored by the day’s excitement, she let her thoughts spin out in wider and wider passes, circling the crux of the drama.

What did the King of Dreams dream of?

Revenge, she suspected. Vengeance on the king that may boil over on the land he ruled, and she must guide her favorites out of the flood’s path. Those practical answers satisfied the part of her that always craved a direction, a purpose, the next challenge to conquer, but the Dream King’s retribution sat like a wax seal over a longer letter. She would very much like to read that letter, even if it was dangerous, and unwise, and entirely reckless.

The Prince of Stories must have depths unfathomable, millennia upon eon of secrets and experiences carved into his bones. She wanted to dismiss her curiosity as nothing but interest in a vision of her future. Would she be like him in another thousand years? No. She’d still be human, and he was Endless. All the lifetimes of the Earth couldn’t teach her to understand one such as him.

But that didn’t mean she had no desire to try.

From farther up the line, a runner came jogging, peering up at the faces of the mounted company. He looked from one to another, seeking the right address to receive his message. The bard paused, recognizing the Everard house colors on servant’s tabard. Her horse stamped, whickering around the bit as her rider leaned out of the saddle to catch the young man’s eye. He saw her and darted to her side quick as an arrow.

“Is all well?” the bard asked.

“My lady Alis Everard and my lord Tomas Everard request you ride with them.”

The bard looked to Lady Alder. She hardly needed her friend’s permission, and none of the Alders were the sort to cherish grudges over perceived slights. But the bard didn’t want to leave her to ride alone, either. She needed good conversation and someone who cared enough to notice if she swayed on her horse.

“Oh, go tend to your nervous foal.” Lady Alder waved her off. “My own proud filly will see you pass and return to keep me amused. We favor different arts, but she has a sharp enough eye to see trouble riding by.”

“Thank you.” The bard pulled out of the column of riders, careful to avoid the servant at her side. “I’ll see you at the camp.”

Whatever Lady Alder replied was lost to the wind. Finally given her head, the bard’s mare leapt into a canter, her hooves thumping a second heartbeat that rattled up and through her rider. Old loam and the sharp green scent of freshly broken twigs gathered around her like a cloak as she moved just left of the path, removed from the rock and dust of the road.

The bard knew what colors to look for, and she let all definition blur as she moved past lords, ladies, knights, and their scores of attendants. They all looked so strange and out of place in the tunnel of green woods, dressed to stand out in a part of the world where blending in more often preserved life.

Near the front of the cavalcade, she found the Everards. Alis stared with wide eyes as the bard pulled even with her, mare prancing and snorting in frustration as her run came to an end. Her dramatic entrance pulled other eyes, and the king – only a few riders ahead – glanced back with frustrated disgust. Perhaps she should apologize that she wasn’t a stag. For all of the ruckus she’d heard from afar, she saw precious few carcasses dangling from the hunters’ belts.

“Thank you for coming in such haste,” Lord Everard said. Stifled amusement plucked at his lips, trying to lift them into a broad, laughing gale. It would be bad manners to laugh too loudly too near the king over a jest to which he wasn’t party, but Everard clearly struggled.

She answered with the grin he’d tried to school away. “Best way to travel. Now, what is the matter?”

Lord Everard gestured to his daughter, and she in turn tried to sink into the mud of the forest track. She hunched low, like she could melt into her boots. Her complexion had gone pale, despite the flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck, and her gloves creaked as her dainty hands squeezed into fists. The bard let the merriment fade, looking and listening beyond the girl’s silence.

Alis’s doe eyes flicked towards the shadow who rode beside her king, and the bard understood.

Dream of the Endless wore his customary black, with the blood-red ruby shining on his breast like a heart he’d ripped from his prey. His nightmare mount had teeth where it ought to have eyes, and it laughed with a man’s voice. He carried a raven on his shoulder rather than a hawk on his glove, and anyone who hadn’t met his sister may mistake him for an aspect of Death. Or something worse, perhaps.

Lord of Nightmares indeed.

“He frightens me,” Alis whispered, leaning close. “I’ve had nothing but bad dreams since I came to the castle.”

As she should. A glance at her father confirmed he thought the same. Just because he’d been forced to bring his child to this storm didn’t mean he didn’t fear the lightning. He had too much sense for this farce and too big a heart to let the girl suffer. If his wife were not busy running the estate, she’d be here to shelter and comfort their little girl, but in her absence, he must ask the bard to fill the role, and she gladly pulled Alis’s attention from bad dreams to simpler truths.

“And you’ve never had a nightmare before?” She didn’t chide. She reminded. Even in the security of her own bed in her own home, the girl had touched the darker shores of the Dreaming. Its king would not reach out to swallow her now, even though he prowled so near in the Waking. “Alis, believe me, you are safe.”

Alis pulled her spine straight, taking a deep, intentional breath that shuddered on the way in and trembled on the way out.

“Do you promise?”

“I promise that if I’m wrong, I’ll find a convenient sword to fall on, and you can say you told me so. Does that make you feel better?”

“A little.” Realizing what she’d said, Alis blanched and rushed to add, “But only because I know you’d come back!”

This time her father did laugh, and the bard reached to reassure her with an honest to gods giggle, when chaos erupted at the front. The king and his companions came to a dead stop, and without warning or order, those who rode behind struggled to halt in time. Rearing horses and shouts of alarm rolled down the line like a breaker, and in the wave of confusion that followed, the bard once again left the road to circle forward.

They’d reached the camp.

A glory of golden stitching over swaths of emerald, the vast tents might cover an entire town, and smoke rising with the smells of rosemary and stewed venison hinted at the delights within.

The display paled behind the entity waiting at the edge of the woods, however.

Golden eyes like licks of flame from the sun’s heart smiled over ruby lips. Welcoming and menacing and all-too pleased with themselves.

Power perfumed the air, like honeysuckle and ambergris, clashing with the winter-cold snap of Dream’s clear displeasure. The King of Dreams had lost the veneer of humanity, and he set himself against the intruder like the deepest hour of the night resisting the dawn.

Few creatures could stand up to the king’s guest. Even fewer commanded the presence of function beyond personification. The bard did not know who the stranger was, but she knew what they were.

Another fucking Endless.

Every inch screamed of passion, romance, obsession. Golden hair and loose-fit silks that flowed like water into a garment that was neither tunic nor gown inspired sensual curiosities. They rode a unicorn, a bay mount with cloven hooves, a lion’s tail, and a goat’s beard. The russet horn glinted with flecks of gold, like treasure winking through a smear of blood.

The King of Dreams sneered, lip curling as he shared a frigid greeting.

“Sibling.”

The Endless in their path laughed, bright as bells and smooth brandy. It sounded to the bard’s ears like trouble. “I hope you don’t mind if I join in your hunt. Big brother.”

[acourtofthought]

It's incredible to me that some are making fun of Elucien's nickname for the pairing, "Fox and Fawn" because fox eat prey.

First, that's not entirely accurate:

Second, while it's clearly stated above that fawn's are not the typical pray of fox, "Death and his Lovely Fawn" is pretty much a literal assurance of DEATH. 🤦

Fox and Fawn are both creatures found in nature, sometimes even interacting in a playful way:

The two names fall within the same category, just like Lady Death and Lord of Bloodshed. Just like Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal.

Those nicknames evoke the same imagery, same as Fox and Fawn. The one that doesn't match is Death and his Lovely Fawn as the names have nothing to do with one another unless we're talking what happens in the rare case of a fox eating a fawn 😂

If we want to be really silly about it "Predator / Prey" tropes (as is the case with Vampire romance) is a lot sexier than straight up "death" 🤷

Third: Nesta and Cassian's "nicknames" were never used in connection to their relationship. Cassian's nickname was mentioned in ACOWAR by the Bone Carver when Nesta was nowhere around and Cassian called Nesta Lady Death in SF.

If some are trying to claim nicknames are a guarantee of endgame then I guess Rhys and Lucien will be very happy together: