#they deserve their own names to grow into and become their own cats“

[beestripe-and-spines]

You know now that I'm thinking about it, this is stupid as hell

I know it's not exactly the same, but should this not bother Nightheart, who quite literally spent the whole first book being pissed he was named after someone else? I really want some growth for this little asshole but it just won't come 😔 I hope his sister steals his Sunbeam

[mikka-minns]

I saw on twitter a hc/theory that Pigsy is "dadsy" and Tang is "Mister Tang" Because Tang purposely let himself be the "less of a parent, more of a teacher" So that Pigsy has space to get used to being a parent and so that Tang doesnt steal the spotlight from him. So even tho he is there for Mk like a second dad, he doesnt get much of a dad treatement.

That kinda broke me ngl. And it does sound pretty Canon

But here's my own headcanon that came to me randomly to cheer me up

When MK was little he called them both "dad" or "papa", but didnt have a specific name for either so it became confusing

He started calling Pigsy "dadsy" as a nickname at some point and it stuck. He continued calling Tang "dad".

Later, he tried to give Tang a similar nickname but nothing felt right.

Mk: "dad Tang"? No. "tadad"? Worse. "Dang-?" WAIT NO-

Pigsy and Tang: *bursting into laughter*

Mk: STOP! IT SLIPPED OUT! >:(

They teased him about it for a bit. For a while, whenever Tang would walk into a room where MK and Pigsy where, Pigsy would yell "DANG!", Tang would do a "😏😘" face and they would both start laughting while Mk just pouts in embarasment. He calls Tang "Mister Tang" to be petty. His dads things its the funniest shit ever.

As Mk grows up, "Mister Tang" becomes more of an affectionete nickname than a petty one. Mostly cuz he got used to it and Pigsy doesnt cat-call Tang as often.

He still does it and the two do laugh, but mk just looks at the unamused

Mk: 😑is this necessery?

Pigsy: Yes

Tang: dont like your dads apriciating each other's company?😏

Mk: 😑 guys, please

Self-indulgent, but they deserve some nice headcanons.

I might make a post of small fluffy lmk headcanons too (w a lot of freenoodles family Ones)

[anoant-haikyuu-dump]

Assigning Cat Pokémon to the Nekoma Players

Kuroo - Meowscarada Saw it's official art and instantly thought of this scene from Summer of Evolution, take one look at that dramatic mf and tell me Kuroo wouldn't want one instantly. They're both tricky guys who bait their opponents into attacking before pulling the rug out from under them. The smug aura is off the charts.

Kai - Delcatty Calm and nonconfrontational but reliable, both of these guys are relatively normal compared to everyone else but well loved by those around them. Delcatty's pokedex entry in sapphire says it just moves away instead of fighting, much like how Kai leaves Yaku and Kuroo to do their thing when their fights get heated

Yaku - Zeraora Quick, nimble, powerful— these two are both incredibly strong despite their size. You can always count on them to get there in time. I wasn't gonna give anyone mythicals or legendaries but if anyone deserves it it's Yaku.

Tora - Incineroar Obviously Tora gets the Litten line, its mid evolution is literally called Torracat. Can you name a pokemon with more guts than the big manly WWE tiger?? I didn't think so. They're both shouting constantly and hyping themselves up while also being supportive towards the people around them. Loudest mfs in the room but you love them nonetheless.

Kenma - Meowstic Knew I wanted to give Kenma a psychic type since he's all about mind games and Meowstic was the perfect canidate. The both play more of a supporting role on the team but can be super agressive, all with a blank face. Also they have similar vibes visually.

Fukunaga - Meowth The natural choice since both are based on maneki-neko, look at the joy and whimsey!! Silly little guys who's eyes sparkle when they get excited.

Inuoka - Boltund The sole dog among a sea of cats, bros just happy to be included. Decided on Boltund because of it's boundless energy, they can keep going for days without loosing a sweat. Also look at it's little smile!! Very Inuoka indeed.

Lev - Luxio (?) I'm conflicted on this one but I don't know what else to go with (curse you Lev for being an enigma). It's abilities are rivalry and intimidate, much like how Lev picks a fight with like half his team + hinata and how his height intimidates most people he comes across. I went with Luxio over Luxray since he still has a lot of room to grow but he's a determind guy with big aspirations (again, this one is a strech lol).

Shibayama - Litleo Like Lev I chose the preevolution because Shibayama has a lot to live up to, what with Yaku being the current libero. Small, cute, and reliant on his teammates for now but one day he'll step out from of the shadow of his predecessor and become his own player

Teshiro - Espurr I know this is technically a repeat since I gave Kenma Meowstic but c'mon, just look at that cold, dead stare. Blank-faced dudes with more internal struggles than meets the eye.

[zhongrin]

| ◆ ch. vago mundo ⑊ zhongli

--⟢ ii. little dragon, big dragon |   teyvat continues to change, and nobody can stop it. but morax hopes that some things stay unchanged.

𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

◇ tags ◇ fluff, rex lapis in the olden days is a (lovable) menace

◇ a/n ◇ everyone shush and hear me out!!!!!!! smol dragon!zhongli draped around your neck and purring like a cat. that's it that's the post.

"is that…"

"that improper animal… this new generation of disciples are just too full of themselves."

"the divine one is just far too lenient… i fear the young ones will continuously abuse their kindness."

rex lapis squints his eyes towards the whispers of the less fortunate souls, inwardly scoffing at the open jealousy in their words. it's your gentle touch that pulls him out of his musings, and he lightly cranes his eyes up to stare at your visage.

"this is quite a commendable feat, rex. to have such precise control over your physique… keep this up and you might even become an archon one day," you chuckle, fingers lightly tracing the small horns on the sides of his compact-sized dragon form.

he's unable to stop the instinctive purrs which are reverberating from the back of his throat, amber eyes closing in bliss as you let him curl even closer around your neck, though he takes extra care so his scales won't hurt you in the process.

"you know, a friend of yours came to find me the other day. guizhong, i think was her name? she told me about your… excursions."

the low purring immediately stops, and you hold back a laugh when you feel the little dragon shift uneasily around you.

"were those glaze lilies you gave me the other day from guizhong's little garden after all, hmm?"

".... maybe."

"oh, rex… you know how much she adores them."

"but you said you liked them the last time she showed you…"

"i do, but that doesn't mean you can filch them off guizhong's garden."

"but- she stole my treasures to give you those earrings last time, so now we're even!"

you had to laugh at that. the petty little squabbles from the younger acolytes are always one of your constant sources of entertainment, and this one is no different. you find the dynamics of this particular group amusing, and you can't deny that you might be a little biased when it comes to them. especially to the little dragon. he's witty and a little cheeky, just like all the hatchlings, but something tells you that he'll grow into an individual to be feared if he gains enough wisdom over the few hundred - or thousand, years.

you can only hope you'll be there to witness it when the time comes.

"i suppose, little wyrmling."

rex huffs, tail flopping back to your shoulder, snuggling closer around your neck.

"you didn't have to do all that, you know. i think they deserve to be angry."

morax shakes his head stubbornly as he closes the door of your bedroom behind the two of you. his hand lands on the small of your back and he leads you further into the room.

"while i have seen you making many mistakes throughout the olden times, i know you will always strive to do what you can to make up for it. i would never wish for dominion, but as long as i walk upon teyvat, there shall be no being who gets away with besmirching your name. and especially not in the nation i've cultivated to honor your very being."

you sigh at his tenacity and turn to face him instead, resting your hands on his chest and giving him your best patient smile. the hard lines on his expression smooth out, and you can feel him relax under your touch. soon enough his own hands fall back onto your waist, this time softly palming the sides of your hips, like a kitten making biscuits.

"though i'm honored, i think it's rather petty of you to go to such lengths when all they did was gossip… people have been working hard to rebuild the houses, right? an earthquake is just going to render their efforts useless…"

"ahem…. i'll admit that it wasn't my intention to react in such an… overly dramatic manner. it is my mistake. i realize now that i should have controlled myself better."

"oh, morax… this childish side of yours truly amuses me sometimes," you giggle when you sighted the reddened tips of his ears and the way he's lightly chewing his bottom lip in guilt.

sometimes you still can't believe that the rex lapis himself could be so… adorable.

"okay, enough of that! creator worship time is over! i want my dearest zhongli now, please?"

he perks up at your wish and you step back to watch him shift into his mortal form. it takes him a short few seconds, but it always fascinates you, the way he manages to do it so elegantly and the magical way his body transforms into a familiar appearance.

slender fingers absent of talons reach out towards you, and you meet him halfway, fingers interlacing as you nuzzle into his chest with a satisfied hum. zhongli's deep chuckle caresses your ears and he maneuvers the both of you towards the nearby armchair. but before he can sit down and pull you on top of him, an idea hits you and you pull away slightly to tug on his clothes.

"can i play with your hair?"

"it would be my pleasure, dear."

with a pleased grin, you grab the various cushions and blankets from the couches nearby, making a small nest-like surface on the floor instead. zhongli sits cross-legged on it as soon as you plop onto the higher chair right behind the small area you've made for him, and your fingers automatically tug off the hairpin that holds his hair down his back. you unconsciously hum a tune of ancient lullabies as you continue on to play with his long strands of brown-gold hair, and the god of contracts lets himself melt onto your hold with a contented sigh.

thousands of years may have passed, and you might have lost the memories of your olden days with him forever.

yet, as you continue to spoil him with your sweet words and comforting presence, he realizes that your love for teyvat, for him, no matter which forms and the identity he takes, has stayed true and strong even without those memories.

and zhongli realizes that it's all he could ever ask for.

© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!

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[mud-castle]

Nutmeg: Your help today was invaluable, Scourge. Thank you. Scourge: Uh- yeah...sure...whatever

The leader of Hope Colony and her emo, emotionally-constipated second taking a stroll after a mission.

More info under the cut:

It dawned on me that there would be a fairly large time gap between Scourge and Nutmeg's experiences with the clans. Now, I could make Scourge younger, but I think I can make it work

So, Tiny makes it out of his house, barely alive with some fresh wounds and his collar broken off, and runs into the city after a forest cat raid. While he never does the whole dog and Bloodclan thing, he does grow skilled in ways to survive in the city and builds his own reputation.

Four years afterwards, a new name is sweeping the city, Nutmeg. A kittypet who not only managed to save two of her kittens in a raid but killed a forest cat while she was at it...and lived. She rapidly gains followers and builds up a group she names the Hope Colony.

Their mission: Keep the forest cats out of their homes and away from their kits by any means necessary.

Scourge is down for getting some forest cat blood on his claws and breaks his four years of routine to join. Having lived most of his life by himself, he's difficult to work with initially, but they help each other and eventually get along. Eventually, he becomes her second.

Nutmeg has a very warm, friendly personality. She's very charismatic and people-oriented. She generally prefers to try diplomacy, even with forest cats. If that fails, she turns to the power of incredible violence.

Scourge is always down for the power of incredible violence. He's well known for doing the "dirty work" of the Hope Colony, mostly because that's what he's good at. On the inside, however, he's struggling to live in a group after spending most of his life watching out for only himself.

Bro barely remembers to eat most days yet now he's supposed to keep up with the dynamics of the different city groups as well as forest cat issues. ugh. Politics.

As seen in the photo, Nutmeg freely gives compliments and expresses gratitude. Scourge is unsure how to react to the feelings this brings up.

Designs:

Nutmeg is now buff because Nutmeg deserves to be buff. And Squilf gets her tail from her grandma. She has scars on her side and on the eye hidden by her bangs from Thunderclan's raid on her home. The other scars are from the many fights she's been in since then. She still lives with her humans, though she's gone much of the day to run the Colony.

Scourge now has his iconic red bangs because I can't give him his edgy personality and not have them there. The fur naturally grows like that because I said so. The scars on his leg is from the forest cat raid he escaped from. The ones on his face are from random fights. He's also underweight cause he forgets to eat when in a work mindset.

[clangenrising]

Month 15 - Newleaf

“Let all cats old enough to catch their own prey join beneath the Stoneperch for a Clan meeting!” 

Floodpaw sat up from his evening nap in surprise. “Wait, what?” 

“Oh, Stars,” Barleypaw rolled onto her paws beside him. “Is it now? I’m not ready!” 

Floodpaw looked up at Goldenstar where she stood on the stone above her den and found her smiling directly at him. It was definitely happening right now. He quickly ran a paw over his ears to tidy his messy fur. Barleypaw was organizing her feathers very particularly, making fretfull noises as she did. Floodpaw sighed and leaned over to straighten the ones behind her head for her. 

“You look great,” he soothed, “don’t worry about it.” 

“Mmm,” she whined, “if you say so.” 

“Look, Sparrowpaw’s already beat us down there,” he said, pointing to where their brother was waiting with perfect posture. 

“Okay, okay,” sighed Barleypaw. “I’m ready.” 

Together, they bounded down from the top of the warriors’ den to sit next to Sparrowpaw in the front of the crowd. He looked over at them and smiled and Floodpaw felt a sudden spike of nerves in his belly. It was really happening. After moons of hard work, he was going to be a warrior. The Clan was gathered around him and he could feel the pride swelling in the air. 

“Today,” Goldestar began, smiling ear to ear, “I am happy to say, we have a very special ceremony to hold, one I’m sure many of you have been eagerly awaiting.” Floodpaw squared his shoulders in an attempt to look noble. He had been expecting to get his name after the Battle with Razor but Russetfrond had insisted on the three of them completing their final assessments and Goldenstar had been unclear about whether or not they had passed. It was such a relief to finally know for certain that he was going to be a warrior. 

Goldenstar’s next words pulled his rising hopes crashing back down to earth. “Lake, would you step forward?” 

“What?” he couldn’t stop himself.

“Shh,” Barleypaw hissed. Lake bounced out of the crowd where she had been sitting with Fogpaw and Slatepaw and looked up at Goldenstar with big blue eyes. 

“Yes, ma’am?” she asked in her little voice. Floodpaw couldn’t help but smile despite his disappointment. The kid deserved this. 

“Do you still want to join the Clan like we talked about?” asked Goldenstar kindly. 

“Oh, yes!” purred Lake. “I wanna learn to do stuff like all the ‘Paws do!” A few cats laughed softly to themselves. Floodpaw rolled his eyes. 

“And did you want to change your name like we talked about?” 

“Mhm!”

“Then I welcome you as a member of RisingClan. From this day on, until you become an apprentice, you will be known as Lakekit. Welcome home.” 

“Lakekit! Lakekit!” cats cheered and Floodpaw joined in once or twice. 

Even Lakekit got in on the action. “Lakekit!” she beamed and then giggled to herself like it was the funniest thing she’d ever done. Even Goldenstar couldn’t stop herself from chuckling at that. 

“And with that,” Goldenstar said and Floodpaw wilted, “Our meeting is- Oh wait, that’s right!” She grinned mischievously as she said, “I knew I was forgetting something! Floodpaw, Barleypaw, Sparrowpaw, please step forward.” 

Floodpaw frowned, puffing up a bit as cats chuckled at the joke, but it was all in good fun. He shook it off and stepped forward with his littermates, taking a deep breath to once again pull himself into a more noble looking shape. Barleypaw brushed her tail against his leg, smiling at him, and then focused on Goldenstar. He glanced at Sparrowpaw but his brother was completely professional. 

Goldenstar’s smile turned warmer as she continued, “The three of you have worked hard to become excellent warriors and I couldn’t be more proud. You are the first apprentices to complete their training since the plague which is a promising sign. If you three are any indicator of how our Clan is growing, we are on the right track.” Floodpaw realized he was on the verge of tears. The energy in the air was intoxicatingly full of love and it resonated within him near overwhelmingly.

“Floodpaw, Barleypaw, Sparrowpaw,” Goldenstar said, “do you three promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend your Clan, even at the cost of your life?”

“I do,” they chorused, confident and sure. 

“Then by the powers of StarClan,” Goldenstar purred, “I give you your warrior names.” She leapt down from the Stoneperch to stand in front of them and said, “Floodpaw, you have proven yourself to be a capable fighter, eager to defend your Clanmates with the speed and force of a roaring flood. From this moment on, you will be known as Floodstrike. Your Clan honors your drive and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” 

She leaned forward and rested her muzzle on his head, purring strongly, and Floodstrike leaned in to lick her shoulder, eyes lingering briefly on the scar now hiding in her neck fur. The Clan began to cheer his name. He stood back and lifted his head to look around at them, chest swelling with pride. He had done it. Finally, the warriors around him were his equals. It was almost too good to be true. 

“Barleypaw,” Goldenstar moved on once the chanting faded, “you have grown so much from the day you were apprenticed, becoming a confident and kind-hearted young warrior unafraid to challenge what she knows is wrong. For this reason, I give you the name Barleybee. Though you may seem small at times, you have a courageous sting that shouldn’t be underestimated. Your Clan honors you for your boldness and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” 

Now she and Goldenstar repeated the ceremonial gesture as cats chanted her name. Yarrowshade’s voice cut through the noise with a rowdy string of celebratory whoops. Barleybee laughed and raised her tail as she beamed at him. Floodstrike bumped his shoulder against hers and she purred, bonking heads with him. 

“Sparrowpaw,” said Goldenstar, “you have always shown a dedication to a warrior's duties that any cat could admire, but I would like to highlight the way you have tempered that dedication with thoughtfulness and foresight. Like a bird in the wind, you have learned to lean into life’s challenges with a level head and so I bestow upon you the name Sparrowsway. Your Clan honors you for your tranquility and welcomes you as a full warrior of RisingClan.” 

She placed her muzzle on Sparrowsway’s head and as he leaned in to touch her shoulder, he said, “Thank you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” she whispered back as the Clan cheered. Then, to all the cats present, she declared, “As tradition dictates, our new warriors will spend tonight sitting a silent vigil where they are invited to meditate on their growth so far and the duties they have sworn themselves to from here on out. During this time, they are not to be disturbed, so get your congratulations out now.” She laughed a little bit and stepped back to let the rest of the Clan swarm in to speak with the new warriors. 

“Oh!” Oddstripe was the first one to reach them, emotion cracking his voice. “I’m so, so proud of you three!” He wrapped his arms around Sparrowsway’s neck and rubbed his cheeks on either side of his son’s face, causing Sparrowsway to wince with mild embarrassment. 

“Your name is so cool!” cried Fogpaw, pushing up close to Floodstrike’s chest. “I hope my name is that cool!”

“Yeah, right,” he laughed, putting a paw on her face and trying to shove her into the dirt. “You’re probably gonna be named Fogfart or something.” 

“Nuh uh!” Fogpaw laughed and wriggled out from under him. 

“Real mature,” chuckled Sparrowsway.

“I’m so proud of you, Barleygirl,” Yarrowshade bumped his head against hers gently. “I couldn’t have asked for a better apprentice.” 

“Or me a better mentor,” purred Barleybee softly. 

Oddstripe had moved on to pull Floodstrike into a tight hug. “My little man!” he cried, “You’ve grown so much.”

“C’mon, dad, don’t cry,” he laughed, blushing under the intense affection. 

“Hey, congrats!” called Branchbark from the second row of Clanmates. “You guys deserve it!”

“Yeah!” cheered Ospreymask, “Congrats, you three!” 

Russetfrond appeared beside Sparrowsway and gave him a crisp nod. “Well done.” 

“Thank you,” Sparrowsway said fervently. Floodstrike imagined that was Russetfrond’s version of Oddstripe’s hugs and tears. 

“Wowzers,” Lakekit practically inserted herself into the hug that Floodstrike’s father was smothering him in. “I didn’t realize you guys got new names when you grew up! Are you sad your names don’t match anymore?” 

Floodstrike laughed and ruffled her fur with a paw. “Nah, we’ll always match in the ways that matter.” 

Lakekit smiled and Oddstripe let out another, very emotional, “Oh!”

Eventually everyone came and congratulated them in some way, except Mystique who was still sulking in the elders’ den. As the crowd dwindled and faded, Goldenstar approached, Scorchplume lingering behind her, and bumped her forehead against Floodstrike’s. 

“Hope you didn’t mind my little joke,” she said. 

“I nearly died,” said Floodstrike. 

“He’s not lying,” Sparrowsway laughed. 

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t,” Goldenstar smiled. “You guys are going to be amazing warriors. Are you done mingling?”

“I think so,” said Barleybee. Sparrowsway nodded and Floodstrike shrugged. 

“Might as well be,” he said. 

“Alright,” nodded Goldenstar. “Go ahead and sit up on the Stoneperch for your vigil. From now until I come to gather you, you’re not supposed to speak a word unless there’s an emergency, understood?” 

“Understood,” Floodstrike said and his littermates stifled their laughter. 

“Hey!” Goldenstar feigned anger. “What did I just say?!” He laughed and sat back, paws up by his chest in surrender. Goldenstar dropped the joke with a fond smile and said, “Alright then. Good luck, you three.” 

Together, they climbed the Stoneperch and settled down side by side. The stars were just starting to peek over the eastern horizon. Floodstrike looked up at them and let out a deep, contented sigh. Things were going to be alright. The war was basically over and he was finally a warrior. The three siblings settled into a comfortable silence, watching over the camp as dusk turned into a cloudless, starry night.

[normal-thoughts-official]

You are getting me intrigued about Bladeweave, and i want to know your thoughts on:

A) Do they get a pet together? (The correct answer is yes)

B) Do you imagine them like, in a specific Bladeweave universe, or like canon-ish one, but like after the Hell Trip?

C) Do you think Tara and Wyll team up to make sure Gale doesn't forget to take care of himself and then Tara teams up with Gale to do the same to Wyll?

D) What do you think Wyll's father thinks of Gale?

Also feels weirdly nostalgic to be on your asks

omg hiiiii beloved. first of all finish the damn game 🔫 second of all damn i missed your asks 💕

in order:

A) they get a frankly ridiculous amount of pets but neither of them will admit it because they're the "they're not my pets, i just feed them" kind of mfs. i mean, that's canon on gale's end but we all know wyll is just as bad if not worse with the whole "hm actually animals are fully fledged individuals who belong to no one but themselves and only a tyrant would wish to conquer them and reduce them to something to be owned and,"- bullshit.

(also, honestly? after being called a pet and a pup by mizora for so long, the last thing he wants is to be reminded of her. and considering how in wyll origins he says his biggest fear is to become the devil he was made to look as, i think it'd be highly triggering for him to say anything at all that sounded like it could've come from her mouth, even in a completely different context. so, no, he'll never have "pets", he'll have loyal animal friends whom he feeds and takes care of and who live with him and always come back to him but they're not pets how dare you)

gale is more of a cat/tressym person, and of course tara is gale's friend first and foremost and wyll and her mostly bond over their love for gale. wyll however has no discrimination when it comes to species and i mean none. he'll show up at the tower or wherever else they live all like "hey gale so hear me out" and it's just as likely that he'll have a cat, a dog, a pigeon, a horse, or a crocodile in tow. gale just sighs and goes magic up whatever sort of specialized environment their new tennant will need because he knew what he was getting into when he married Literal Disney Princess, got-speak-with-animals-as-a-cantrip-out-of-a-devil-deal Wyll Ravengard. those are mostly wyll's friends (not pets, the dekarios-ravengard household is completely pet free, ignore the first 10 levels of the tower) but they also get along well with gale too. he makes them tea when they to to their area upstairs for a chat or whatever

B) usually the canon universe, yes. i mean it's fully possible to have a canon run without ever even meeting karlach so it's not like i'd need a fully fledged AU if I didn't wanna include the going to hell part (plus other ending possibilities im not spoiling you about). but also i feel like gale is the kind of stupidly self sacrificial mf who would go to hell with wyll and karlach if that's what it takes, both to be with his love and because karlach does deserve to live and be safe. and he knows that he can help try to look into arcane solutions for her heart. and if anyone understands having a ticking time bomb in their chest and needing support to grow back hope that you'll be able to live without it being a risk, and deserve to, it's him. wyll's saved him from his own time bomb; he would never deny karlach the same sort of redemption, especially when she got in that situation through no fault of her own

so, yes, i can imagine him joining them, even if not 24/7, and trying to help with her heart before they come back. and then we can have bladeweave and karlachzel (? what's their ship name called man) or Fucking Whatever lol. i mean part of the appeal of wyllach to me is that i feel like it makes 0 difference whether it's platonic or romantic, so i can see a platonic helping each other in hell before we can go back to our respective baes sort of situation

C) duh. tara and wyll have a whole routine they've executed to perfection for when gale is having a bad depression day, or a bad back/joint pain day, or an orb flare-up day, or whichever other flavor of disabling situation gale faces (semi-)regularly. tara is both relieved to have someone else to take care of him (both so she gets room to take care of herself as well and just from knowing that no matter what, someone else has gale's back) and pleased to see that, at least as far as depression days go, gale has been having those less and less. not because true love cures all or whatever but because now gale has a significant support network with all the tadfools, plus with the orb stabilized he doesn't have to fear going out, seeing his family, and making friends anymore. nothing is perfect or cured but slowly and steadily he's been building the kind of support net that allows him to breathe and keep himself alive more easily, you know

as for wyll's own disability days, tara is kind of slow to trust and even slower to show said trust. naturally she would always be there to support them both when wyll needed, if anything because it mattered to gale. but it was mostly supporting gale while he supported wyll at the beginning, because she was still wary of anyone who could potentially break her wizard's heart and make him even more fragile

also, he kind of waltzed into her house and then started bringing dogs. yuck.

but wyll is nothing if not explicitly and selflessly loving of gale and completely polite and respectful of tara's boundaries, which means he earns her love faster than any other humanoid ever has. so at first she was kind of tsundere about it - trying to hide her concern when wyll was having PTSD episodes by being kind of focused on gale, being a bit snarky (although never in a mean way), that kind of thing. over time though she fully gave up on pretending and became very involved in helping him. nothing like having a tressym purr to help pull you out of a flashback, or having someone to pet during a depression day, etc.

she is also one of the few people who always keeps in mind that wyll is not, in fact, fully sighted. whenever they go somewhere new or something changes in the layout of the tower she always helps him figure out clues to make up for his lack of depth perception while he's getting used to the state of things. gale also has a tendency to clutter and leave his stuff everywhere when he's particularly invested in a subject so she always makes sure to point out to wyll if there's anything in his path. especially when they're in waterdeep, she always takes the lead when they're walking through crowds, helping make the way so wyll won't bump into anybody by accident. with gale she's more of a supportive friend/housemate but with wyll she goes full on service animal without him ever asking. neither of them ever say anything about it but when she starts doing it wyll knows that he is, officially, part of the family. and most of all, loved

(and they take care of her too, of course. with food and pets and help when she's in pain or sad too. gale is aware that he put quite a heavy load on her when she was literally the only thing keeping him alive after the orb, and wyll is endlessly thankful to her for making sure he was cared for during that time. so they make sure she has all the resting and support she needs, and she is, quite frankly, the most spoiled tressym in the sword coast. wyll also went to ridiculous lengths to make sure everything in their tower was accessible for a non-opposable-thumbs-haver, especially the wizardy stuff because tara is, as gale said, a fine wizard on her own right)

also, sometimes she kneads the bases of wyll's horns when they hurt or feel particularly heavy, physically or emotionally, and it's really cute

D) difficult one. i kinda struggle to imagine ulder having a good relationship with any of wyll's partners, considering he... like... didn't even have a healthy relationship with wyll lol. so he'd probably be distant and kind of strained, but as far as partner choices go, i feel like gale is some of the best he could be hoping for among the tadfools. he is smart and can be charming, and he thrives with older people tbh. ulder wouldn't be a fan of the fact that he's the wizard-living-in-a-tower stereotype and has never really gotten his hands in the mud, so to speak, but gale is respectful, polite, interesting to talk to, intelligent, compassionate, and honorable and ethical to boot, which i think ulder would see as more important. also, he obviously loves wyll, and there's not much more ulder can ask of a partner, especially after he himself failed to provide wyll the love he needed for so long

so i believe he'd like him, although they'd never really be close. the real question though is what gale would think of ulder, because while i think he would be nothing if not polite to him, especially since he knows how much he means to wyll, i also think gale would be playing 5d chess to subtly insult his parenting skills at every opportunity. he is way too nice to be explicit about it but the way he keeps going for the softest, most subtle and hidden of stings, can be more devastating than calling him a bitch. ulder will suddenly realize that two weeks ago gale implied that he was a dumbass, and given that he only noticed that afterwards, he feels like he was probably right. it keeps him up at night sometimes, trying to figure out if gale lightly insulted him or was genuinely just commenting on the weather. the fact that it drives him mad only makes it all the more satisfying to gale. wyll has no clue this is happening at all

this got long and far too detailed but I won't apologize cuz what did you expect really. anyway i love they

[cry-stars]

six, seven, and eight! Fandom of your choice!

Thank you for asking! I'll just do this for DR since that's what I'm obsessed with right now :)

6: What ship fans are the most annoying?

It's not too annoying to me, but I don't really enjoy Naegami content where Togami shows like... any traditional romantic interest in Naegi fdjhkfdf... I really enjoy Naegami where Togami grows a slow tolerance and respect and begins to enjoy being in the same room as Naegi. Sort of like a feral cat who slowly begins to tolerate a human coming anywhere near them, but wouldn't allow itself to be pet. Anything beyond that just seems vastly out of character to me, so I don't really reblog a lot of Naegami stuff because a lot of it seems too romantic for me. I guess I just find the fans who create the "ooc" (in my eyes) content annoying by proxy, but I'm glad they're having fun with their ship.

7: which character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because of how the fandom acts about them?

I don't hate him, but I don't really understand Leon Kuwata's popularity?? he's an interesting guy, but I always see textposts and art and ships with him involved and can never really understand who the character people are talking about is. It feels like they made up their own guy who looks like Leon and is named Leon but is a character that I don't know at all. If anyone's familiar with ace attorney, i felt this way about Clay Terran back in the day, where i just didn't understand his popularity given that he had barely any development or screen time. I guess I don't hate either of them within canon themselves, but I don't understand the popularity.

8: common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

Monaca Towa deserves as much sympathy and care as any of the other warriors of hope. She did horrible terrible things, including to the other kids in her group. But she suffered abuse and pain just like all the other kids (who are also all murderers), and she's also just a little kid like all the other WOH. If the remnants of despair can all heal and survive, i think that Monaca and the other WOH can too.

I think it's really fascinating how each kid suffered a different type of abuse and lashes out in a different way. Monaca suffered from ostracization and neglect, as well as possible physical abuse (whatever event caused her family to think she'd become unable to walk), and her way of coping with it was to become manipulative and agreeable/compliant to work behind people's backs, so they wouldn't hurt her directly. Her father hated her until she became smart enough to be "useful," and he offloaded the work of running his company onto her; then she used that trust to get revenge and further her own goals.

It makes sense that she would do the same thing to the WOH. It's her survival tactic. She was even aware that Junko was manipulating her, but played along with it, likely for her own safety as well as genuinely liking Junko. To me, it's all part of her wanting to survive and feel power that she didn't feel before. She makes me as sad as any of the other WOH, but so many people say horrible things about her only. She was the only one booted out of the tumblr found family poll for example (i know it's just a silly poll but just an example of how the other kids get sympathy and she doesn't). In my own post-DR2 canon she gets to come to Jabberwock island along with the other kids and heal along with the remnants. She deserves it as much as any of the others do.

[laugtherhyena]

Ingrid Elise Sauer-Von Dutch

So, why did i make a Daarin kid if i don't ship them? Simple, me and my friends were chatting about a concept i had of them and we kept talking and talking which ended up in me developing said concept and my friend writing about it. Highly recommend reading if you're up for pain, he's an awesome writer!

What's the concept, you may ask?

The idea is that Daan and Karin are the only survivors of Temrina, being the only people who share such traumatic experience they stick together afterwards and form this unhealthy relationship where there's no love or comfort however they're dependant one another and the prospect of being left behind by the partner is far too frightening.

They seek comfort from one another by indulging in drinking and sexual acts, since neither of them will comfort the other in normal means, it's in this bender that their unwanted child is conceived.

As you can probably guess, neither of them woulf be good parents in the state they're in. Karin burries herself in her work and personal project of exposing what happened in prehevil to the world, hardly ever speaking or taking care of the kid usually just telling Ingird to don't bother her. While Daan was, at best, a distant father he feels a sense of obligation in taking care of their child, while he never spoke much to her he would be the one to prepare meals and take care of her when she got sick.

Much like in Daan's B ending, Pocketcat never leaves him, after Ingird is born it feels like the cat's presence is becoming worse, as if he's observing him on every dark corner of the house. This eventually becomes too much and afraid that Pocketcat could grow to prey on Ingrid Daan left them, feeling that this was the best way he could keep Ingrid safe from that monster as Pocketcat would continue to follow him wherever he goes.

This makes Karin furious, betrayed, terrified. Ingrid was only 3 years old and now she had to take care of her because there was no one else to do so. She got worse. She didn't like looking at the child, that regret, that burden.

As Ingrid grew older Karin put her on every extra activity you can imagine, language classes, dance lessons, literature club, you name it, anything to keep her out of the house and away from Karin as long as possible. One of these activities was piano classes, the only one out of all them in which Ingrid actually enjoyed learning, even if it started as an obligation she found comfort in the melody, it was her way to let out all of her emotions in a healthy manner.

At age 15 Ingrid went to a boarding school and both her and Karin couldn't be happier that they wouldn't have to live together anymore. On the day she left her childhood residence Karin handed her an old letter, it was written by Daan, a message he left for his child to read once she was older, an explanation for his departure. Karin thought about ripping, burning or destroying this letter many times through the years, he left them on their own he doesn't deserve this. Yet, Karin could never bring herself to do so.

Having it handed to their only child could very well be this man's last will, it didn't felt right for it to never reach Ingrid's hands.

At the end of the day, the tormented child appreciated her father's words.

[avasghost]

FOREIGN BIRDS: WIP INTRO

its finally here. the new wip. i haven't made a wip intro since i started ested in like june 2021 and i honestly forgot how this works but i'll try my best to make it coherent.

first thing i should clarify for those of you who didn't see this post, this used to be @/rowansghost, but i started using the name silas instead, so that's why my url looks shitty now.

TW: suicide, addiction, death, grief, manslaughter, ghosts

disclaimer: this is my original work. plagiarism of any kind will not be tolerated.

genre: literary fiction

time period/setting: 1970s, somewhere in canada, small coastal town

projected word count: 50k

pov: first person retrospective referral (with shifts into present)

plot/concept: foreign birds follows 22-year-old martin, who drops out of college and decides to move back to his hometown after accidentally killing his best friend, gabriel. he never wanted to go back to his hometown again, but decides to stay when he meets rainey, who he ends up moving in with, while all the time he's harbouring his secret and hoping he doesn't become a suspect for gabriel's death. the story is told from the pov of his ghost after he kills himself, when he returns to haunt rainey's house. it is his apology to her, where he tells her all the things he never said and all the things he'll never be able to.

aesthetics/vibes: dusky blue light, house parties, smoking a cigarette in the bathtub, neon lights, bruises, ceramic dishes, a quiet apartment, a damask carpet, tv static, soft yellow porch light, playing records, medication bottles, the halo of a streetlight, rosary beads, humming powerlines, a box of matches, a living room full of birds in cages, red wine, thinking you see an angel, neon diner signs, pulpy orange juice, a buzzing ceiling fan, disco light, the orange cast of a lampshade, empty church pews, the scent of a lit match, pale yellow kitchen tiles, blue veins, jittery radio voices, sitting at the kitchen table at 2am, motel rooms, laundromats, cigarette burns, refrigerator light

CHARACTERS

i have several characters planned for this book but i'm not quite sure how they'll play into the story yet, so i'm just going to include the most relevant three for the sake of your attention span.

martin

22

intj, enneagram 3w4

photographer

slightly long dark brown hair, light brown eyes, 5'11, very skinny, pale, fashionable, wears sunglasses a lot

kind of narcissistic, will manipulate people for his own gain

actually cares a lot about rainey and struggles between choosing her or choosing himself, like he's used to

charming, emotionally detached, manipulative, secretive, obsessive, independent, intelligent, loyal only to a few specific people

burnt out gifted kid, has been called a waste of potential

likes going to parties despite being very introverted

considers himself above other people due to their neglect for him growing up, feels like he deserves better and especially did when he was a child, and that he doesn’t need them because he’s grown superior and now he can retaliate by using them before they use him

in a downward spiral that eventually ends in his suicide

rainey

23

entp, enneagram 8w7

journalist

long red hair with bangs, dark brown eyes, 5'3, dresses like she's richer than she is

assertive, innovative, outgoing, autonomous, outspoken, stubborn, passive-aggressive, confrontational

a lot more successful than martin

trying to support martin and help him get better, knows he doesn't tell her as much as he pretends to, doesn't find out his secrets until the night before his suicide

obsessed with tropical birds, has several birds in cages in her living room, cares for them more than she cares for most people

also has a cat

gabriel

22

martin's best friend/boyfriend (but it’s the 70s so nobody knows about that) who he accidentally killed

infp, enneagram 4w5

art student

dead in the fictive present, but is a very prominent character in flashbacks

curly black hair, dark skin, light brown eyes, 5'9

not very developed yet, i'll probably get more details for his character when i start writing his scenes

and that's what i have for this so far! i actually started writing this book a few days ago, and am ~1000 words in wish me luck. i still haven't decided if i'm going to do writing updates for this book, but i think i will since it's not supposed to be that long, so i can maybe post one every 5-10k words. that is as long as i remember to, which is unlikely based on my history of promising writing updates that never arrive.

the end

— silas

wip taglist (i just have one for all my wips, ask to be added/removed): @flip-phones @chewingthescenery @ghostsofmemories @dallonwrites @wildswrites @annlillyjose @letsgetsquiggly @strangerays @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @teaandtypewriters @kahaaniyaa @coffeeandcalligraphy @47crayons @writing-is-a-martial-art @childhoodlovers @zoya-writes @pepperdee @oceancold @unorganisedbookshelf @musingsbycaitlin @sunstone-iolite @femmeniism @raywritesstories @rodentwrites @cheerfulmelancholies @these-starrynights

[lgbtqmanga]

New Releases August 20, 2024

Hate Me, but Let Me Stay (manga) vol. 1 by Hijiki

Ever since the assault that led to his unexpected pregnancy as a teen, Koga Naoto, an omega, has harbored a deep fear and distrust toward alphas. He's even convinced himself that he doesn't need a mate. After all, hasn't he raised his daughter, Shizuku, just fine on his own? Still, at the behest of his concerned mother, Naoto reluctantly attends a matchmaking party. There he meets Tsuchiya Hazuki, a teenage alpha who declares that Naoto is his destined mate. Naoto does his best to ignore the young man's advances, but he can't deny the way he feels in Hazuki's presence. Can Naoto overcome his fear and admit that maybe, just maybe, he might not hate this one alpha?

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun: Erha He Ta De Bai Mao Shizun (novel) vol. 6 by Rou Bao Bu Chi Rou (Meatbun Doesn't Eat Meat) with illustrations and cover art by St

After two lifetimes of misunderstandings, Mo Ran and Chu Wanning have at last opened their hearts to one another. Mo Ran is determined to treat Chu Wanning with all the devotion his teacher deserves, but Chu Wanning has his doubts: has Mo Ran truly turned his attention from his first love, the beautiful Shi Mei, so easily? Yet the pair must put aside the bloom of new love all too soon. When a crucial clue about Xu Shuanglin’s whereabouts comes to light, the foremost powers of the cultivation realm set out to confront him. But the more devious moves their opponent makes, the greater Mo Ran’s suspicion grows that behind Xu Shuanglin lurks another player—a true mastermind who holds all the pieces.

My First Love's Kiss (novel) vol. 1 by Hitoma Iruma

Takasora Hoshi’s life is upended when a girl from her class named Umi Mizuike and her mother temporarily move into her family’s cramped apartment. From the outset of this arrangement, Takasora finds herself annoyed by Umi’s behavior…and her good looks. And though the two girls initially agree to avoid interfering in each other’s lives, Takasora can’t help but start to wonder where Umi keeps wandering off to at night… From the author of Adachi and Shimamura comes the bittersweet tale of two high school girls whose lives are thrust together under the same roof.

She Likes Gays, but Not Me (manga) vol. 2 by Akira Hirahara and Naoto Asahara

“I wonder why people like us are born.” Continuing to keep his sexuality a secret, Jun decides to start dating his classmate Sae. They go on dates, they kiss—but as much as Jun wants to prove he can do more and keep up the ruse, things don’t go as planned. Yet just as he thinks of being honest with Sae, he receives a sudden, devastating message from Mr. Fahrenheit…

The Summer Hikaru Died (manga) vol. 4 by Mokumokuren

Two boys grew up together in a certain village—Yoshiki and Hikaru. One day, Yoshiki became sure that Hikaru was no longer himself. He resolved to accept the new “Hikaru,” whatever happened to his friend. But now he’s decided to research the history of “Nounuki-sama” and Kubitachi to understand what this creature truly is. The situation evolves unpredictably, outside the boys’ control. Who will make the next move, and what will they find?

Tied to You (manhwa) vol. 2 by Chelliace and WHAT

His heart torn from the bittersweet pain of Jiseok’s sweetness and affection, Wooseo has turned instead to his Ring Partner, Jigeon, unaware of the older’s deep-rooted feelings for him. In a moment of drunken weakness, Wooseo seeks comfort from his “stand-in Jiseok”…and the two of them kiss?! But Jiseok isn’t completely oblivious—and he’s starting to catch onto the fact that something may be going on between his brother and his best friend…

Welcome Back, Alice (manga) vol. 7 by Shuzo Oshimi

FINAL VOLUME

Yohei, Kei, and Yui want to be loved for who they are. Yet somehow they keep making the wrong choices, hurting not just the people around them, but also themselves. And when Yohei ends up in the hospital, it becomes a wake-up call for all three of them.

A White Rose in Bloom (manga) vol. 3 by Asumiko Nakamura

Ruby is a student at an elite European boarding school. Things are going pretty well for her until she finds out that she won’t be able to go home for Christmas. Instead, she’ll be stuck at school with only one other student—the aloof and beautiful Steph—for company. As Ruby tries to understand Steph, she becomes more and more attracted to her. But can she break through Steph’s icy exterior in this latest volume?

[jellijellybean]

gotta be sprayed with water like a cat istg because i am thinking. my brain is cooking. now im thinking about fem!kylar and it's TERRIBLE. [mdni]

i swear im normal about her.

warnings: noncon and slight pregnancy mention becuz what else do you expect from her. also was written with an amab body in mind cuz i'm feeling silly

alright alright i have to set the stage here really fast ok. now picture this, you've been seeing kylar for a minute, been having your flings with her now and then. maybe you just start to get a little bored or her.. well, erratic behavior is really starting to get to you, or maybe it's just the whispers and rumors going around at school. whatever, it forces you to distance yourself because yeah.. she can be a bit... much. especially when she whispers about you getting married and living in the woods together, even though you're not thinking that far into the future yet.

her jealousy slowly rises and rises until she finally snaps. i mean, it's really for your own good. you were letting all of those people's words get into your head! you just weren't thinking clearly and that's okay, she's here to help you! she made sure the pills she put in the drink she hands you aren't enough to cause serious damage, enough times over.

when you awake from the drug-induced sleep she's already above you. the sweat dripping down your body, the unnerving warmth surrounding you almost makes the room feel humid. your eyes try to look around, to see what's going on, but they just feel so heavy — your arms and your legs are no better, even your mouth is unbearably dry. but there's something.. something making your legs shake and mouth let out all those embarrassing noises. can feel the way her nails dig into your chest as she moves even faster, biting at your ear when she whines, “we should have a baby” and you can’t say no. not with the way she has her hand covering your mouth, not with the way she's moving — forcing all rational thought from mind. you can faintly hear her whispers about being a mom and how her belly is going to grow. her words fill you with dread. they have you twisting and turning, trying to move away, but it's as if no matter what you do, she's always right there. right there, talking so shamelessly about what you'll name your kids.

a cry leaves your throat, shaking your head and trying to pull away once again. your mind screaming at you to do something to get her off but she clings and holds on tightly, mumbling on and on about how you two deserve to be be a family. about how no one will even think about coming between you two, especially when she'll be right there. how she'll get to wear those cute little dresses, have dinner ready for you, and help.. take care of you just as a good wife should.

you're forced to listen to her breathing getting shallow, forced to lay there when the tingling sensation you get at the base of your spine starts to become too nauseating not to notice. your hands twitch, fingers digging into the rope she's used to bind your arms apart. it's painful. the pleasure making your legs shake and thighs tighten, but you can't say anything, can't move away, can't even think when all you can feel, see, and hear is her. kylar. and her warm body. the way her chest presses against yours when she bites and marks your neck like the artist she is. listen to her moans get drawn out and pitchy the closer she is to tipping over. and feel the way she pulses and gushes over your cock.

god, the laugh that leaves her is almost manic. your chest heaves, your thighs burn, but all you can feel is her hands cupping your face. making you meet her eyes. her face is flushed, her hair sticking to her face and the realization hits you when the ache between your legs grows almost too painful. this isn't the first and it won't be the last. she's kissing you, all teeth and desperation nipping at you lips, forcing you to tip your head back to get some air. but she won't let you. not when she shakily starts to move again, not when the tears threatening to fall past your waterline finally do, not even when, in one last attempt, you bite at her lip.

the coppery taste hits your tongue, but she doesn't stop. instead, letting out a moan before her nails dig into the sides of your face in warning when she starts the cycle all over. you can feel her whisper of, "let's go again... just in c-case." against your face.

ok i'm out of gas, but c'mon y'know what i'm getting at lmao

[coffeeandmagicaltales]

The Auror & The Devil part 9

(FLUFF, cozy, nothing really happens, grab your tea/coffee & enjoy) MCxAESOP SHARP

*

The August sun has been rarely seen lately from behind the foggy curtain; most of the Highlands were shrouded in stormy clouds and mist.

Aesop wasn't sure if it was drizzling or if he had entered a tangle of fog, hiding under his umbrella as he walked slowly along the muddy road, supporting himself with a cane.

He was in an area mostly inhabited by Muggles and preferred not to attract attention with a transparent, enchanted umbrella. He stopped for a moment at a crossroads, checking which way he should turn. A black carriage passed by, pulled by horses.

"Lost, sir?" shouted the driver, an old man with a bushy beard, but Aesop denied it, cursing his pride silently. He knew where he was ten minutes ago, and in that time, much had changed.

"Just a moment!" he called, changing his mind, and the stranger stopped the horses. "I'm looking for Marcus Dimm's brewery... Do you know it?"

"Oh, certainly, it's not far. Please, have a seat next to me, I'll give you a ride, but just a short distance, as the brewery is not exactly on my way... Billy Sommerset, at your service."

"Aesop Sharp," he mumbled, grabbing the extended hand. Billy pulled him up, and Aesop clumsily climbed the steps and finally took his seat, silently thanking himself for putting pride into his colorful socks. After a moment, the whip cracked, and the horses started moving.

"It's easy to get lost here, and you, sir, seem not from around here at first glance. I don't recognize the name either... I've seen similar ones on people who recently returned from Africa, have you been there maybe?" Billy tapped his cheek with his finger and glanced at Sharp, intrigued by his scar.

"I'd rather not talk about it..." he answered wisely, having no idea what Sommerset was talking about, and lapsed into silence.

"Well, terrible what happened to our folks under Congella... My neighbor, a young lad, didn't come back. We live in strange times... I've been a witness to too many untimely deaths lately, it's a bad omen... I feel in my bones that something bad is brewing, not that I'm a pessimist... Every moment there's some trouble, they fight somewhere, and they keep inventing worse weapons for war..."

"I guess that's the price of progress..." Aesop confessed with a heavy heart, frowning. "In the wrong hands, it becomes a curse."

"True words..." the man muttered, nodding. "I see you're your own man, Sharp, and I'll tell you in secret, I don't understand this notion that someone deserves something more than someone else because they have a different skin tone or were born in a prettier house... In the end, I take them all on a ride..."

He gestured with his head towards the inside of the carriage. Sharp only now noticed that behind the black curtains, there was a coffin jumping happily on every stone. He felt very uncomfortable, and regretted looking back.

"Old Dimm has been sick lately too..." Billy confessed with sadness. "Morana, his adopted daughter, is doing her best to help him... She's a good girl, a woman to be precise, I don't believe she's 16." Sharp twitched at the sound of the familiar name and felt a pleasant warmth growing inside him. He straightened up in his seat and suppressed a smile. "...Well, she's strange, I can say, and I'm almost certain she's a witch."

"Oh, really?" Sharp pretended to be surprised, focusing all his strong will on not bursting into laughter. Billy nodded, wiped his nose with a checkered handkerchief, and continued.

"You have no idea... A real she-devil. A black cat circles around her, and lately, she brought a sick horse home... I don't know, I don't know... A peculiar beast, heh, no one believes me because no one supposedly saw it, as if it was invisible... Don't be scared when you see it... Here, have some garlic, just in case..."

Suddenly, a clove of garlic appeared in Aesop's hand. He didn't know exactly what to do with it, so he thanked and promised to use it, putting it in his pocket. The rattle of the wheels soon stopped, and they halted at a crossroads.

"I'm turning right," Billy announced and helped Sharp get down, then glanced at his pocket watch. "Almost noon... In a few minutes, Morana should be passing through here. I saw her going to town in the morning; she'll be coming back this way soon. If you tell her you have business with Marcus, she'll surely take you with her. Nice to meet you, Sharp, and I don't say see you soon!" Billy burst into a ridiculous laughter, revealing his missing teeth, nodded, grabbing the brim of his hat, and tugged the reins, signaling the horses to move.

"Likewise, Sommerset." Aesop nodded appreciatively at the gravedigger's dark humor and, leaning against a road sign, watched the carriage go. Waiting for a few minutes didn't seem like a bad prospect, especially since it had stopped drizzling... Well, at least in theory, a few minutes were bearable, but suddenly it started to feel unbearably long, and Sharp, out of impatience, limped back and forth. His thoughts circled solely around Morana... Nervously, he ran his hand through his hair and adjusted his tie. He wasn't sure if meeting her was a good idea. After all, she proposed it herself, but there was nothing stopping him from politely refusing, which he didn't. At that time, it seemed like a pretty good idea and a distraction from the lack of activity during the day... Now, however, he was afraid he might be bothering her... Visits from an acquaintance were probably the last thing the Dimms wanted now, especially her. After all, in a way, she was at work, busy with brewery matters, family...

"Are you going to Scarborough Fair?"

His heart pounded harder; the sound of hooves and the rattle of wheels mixed with a singing voice he knew so well.

"Morana," he whispered, but the smile faded from his face, and each subsequent word of the refrain pierced his heart like a thorn.

"Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme..."

He remembered when he last heard those words. A small cart emerged from behind the hill with a few barrels, pulled by a Shetland pony and its accompanying thestral, its wings masked by a blanket.

"Remember me to one who lives there, for once he was a true love of..."

She fell silent upon seeing Aesop, and he could see from afar how her face lit up with a pearly smile. She raced the horses and sharply halted near him. She loved dramatic entrances.

"Hi," she said quickly, catching her breath, and the smile didn't leave her face as she jumped down and shook the mud clumps off her worn dress. Taking Aesop's umbrella and cane, she tossed them somewhere between the barrels. In the meantime, Sharp patted Hranolka's neck, who demanded affection once she recognized him. Mora grabbed his arm and helped him climb onto the seat.

"Good to see you..." He whispered, and as they set off, he began to tell her about how he got lost and encountered the gravedigger, asking Mora for details about the war Sommerset mentioned, taking every opportunity to sneak a glance at her. Her appearance was slightly different from what he was accustomed to, and he wanted to examine her and not wanting to embarrass her by his stare at the same time. The nightsky of a thousand freckles on her sun-kissed face had increased by several dozen, forming constellations unknown to him. The makeup was also a novelty; her style seemed to deviate from the fashion of subtle colors accepted in both the wizarding and Muggle worlds. Hmm... However, upon reflection, he immediately concluded that the dark, almost autumnal colors on her eyelids, along with the black, thick lines ending with a sharp edge, suited her excellently and reflected her character. Just like the golden earrings she didn't wear at school but now twinkled on the lobes and petals of her ears. He smiled at the sight of the golden star in her nose, which he noticed only when she rubbed it with delicate fingers adorned with numerous rings, as a stray strand escaped from her bun and tickled her. She always seemed modest to him, but here she was: earrings, a Deathly Hallows-themed necklace, jingling bracelets... He was quite surprised, but what could he expect - she was an adult woman, and she probably bought quite expensive jewelry with the money she earned selling ingredients collected during her escapades. Some of the earrings looked almost like goblin work, which immediately intrigued him, and he tried to remember to ask about them someday. Yes, she looked "different," but she was herself; every little movement and gaze of her blue eyes was familiar to him. And her terrible, charming laughter when he showed her the garlic from Billy... He understood how much he missed it... Missed her.

"You won't really satisfy yourself with garlic..." he mumbled upon hearing the rumbling in her stomach and handed her a cupcake wrapped in fabric, which was almost immediately unpacked by her and entirely stuffed into her mouth. He knew perfectly well that, as usual, she left without breakfast, and then didn't have time for it. "Slow down..." he laughed. "Thanks Salazar, I also made a few for the Dimms... Well, to be honest I feel a bit awkward coming at not the best moment..."

"Few people visit them lately; they will be happy." Mora assured him, speaking with a mouthful and placing her hand on his forearm. "Mr. Dimm feels a bit better, but he has to rest..."

"Wiggenweld potion probably did its job..." Sharp mumbled, looking at her askance, and she blushed. "I'm sure you gave it to him because, from what you wrote to me a week ago, he wasn't doing well. In a way... you did the right thing, but I don't want you to have trouble with the Ministry because of it. It believes that Muggles should be treated by doctors, not us... Ugh, don't look at me like that; I don't agree with everything they come up with, I'm just telling you the rules in the wizarding world."

"I added few drops to his tea, no one saw." she muttered, rolling her eyes and blushing.

"It would be right to ask him first if he agrees to alternative treatment. You probably wouldn't want me to dose you with my elixirs without your knowledge, even if they were supposed to help you..."

"Hmm, let me remind you the bottle of liquor they agreed to anything after one drink..." she nudged Sharp's side with her elbow, who nervously cleared his throat.

"Well... I just brewed it... Fig used it."

Morana laughed upon hearing his awkward attempt to explain himself. After a while, however, she became serious and admitted very quietly, "You're right... Next time, I'll ask for their permission, but I panicked... The fever didn't want to go away... Besides, they don't quite understand who I am; I don't want to scare them..."

"Did you talk to them about it?"

"I tried..."

Aesop raised an eyebrow.

"No, you didn't." he summed up, which deep down annoyed Mora but at the same time gave her a strange pleasure. The smirk, which slightly lifted the corners of his mouth, and the peculiar, sly look from under his dark lashes, which literally read her like an open book, disarmed and confused her. She liked the feeling caused by his intelligence and sharp wit.

It felt like she had said goodbye to him yesterday... It was over a month ago. Only a week and a half ago, she received a letter from him informing her about his small investigation and wanting to summarize what he had learned so far. She suggested a meeting, and they agreed on a date that suited both of them. Nothing special. Just a meeting. But no visit from her friends flooded her with such a sense of calm and comfort. She always stressed about someone's visits, wanted to make the best impression, and sometimes, wanting to please everyone (as was the case with Ominis, where butterflies in her stomach flew like possessed, turning her mind into jelly), she overdid it, which always ended with burnt cake or spilled drinks. Aesop Sharp made all her fears take a break, and they seemed to go for a beer to Sirona, leaving her alone with him and his extraordinary gentleness. The sun had slightly burned his nose and bony cheeks, which now had the color of beet soup. She had the impression that he must have dozed off somewhere in the shade recently, probably dreaming of fluffy nifflers, and during that time, the sun had peeked out from hiding and maliciously turned him red... Occasionally, he unconsciously rubbed the itchy skin with his hand. She found it amusing how his pale complexion quickly surrendered to the unusually warm summer. His British soul must have sighed in relief because it had been raining almost non-stop for a few days. Adorable.

"Poor, silly Aesop," she thought, smiling broadly. There was something different about him than usual. Maybe it was the grumpy grimace that had completely disappeared from his face along with the shadows under his eyes. He must have rested quite well, and it seemed to suit him, as he appeared more relaxed; his muscles weren't tense, as if he expected some apocalypse triggered by Garreth at any moment, and his sunken cheeks gained a bit more substance. At school, he ate fairly normally, and when he had too much work, Morana (not seeing him at the Faculty Table) would come to his class to remind him about dinner. Hmmm, sometimes he got so absorbed in his work, wanting to finish checking hundreds of essays on time, that he forgot about his hunger. When he told students that their papers would be returned the next week, it had to be the next week, and nothing could change that because he always kept his word, honorably, as a Slytherin... although, it often turned against him. Morana felt a bit sad, remembering how, towards the end of the semester, he panicked when he lost someone's essay and couldn't find it. They both searched for it for several hours, and only when he casted Levioso on one of the potion-making stations, and Morana crawled under it, did she find the mischievous parchment. It was supposed to be checked the next day, and her assurance that nothing would happen if he told the student to wait one more day completely failed to convince Aesop.

"Submit... not on time?..." he said with a slightly trembling, frightened voice. "No, no, no, Mora, that's a bad idea... I can handle it; there are still 3 hours left..."

"... Until 8 in the morning," she interjected, frowning, raising black eyebrows, and squinting her eyes. His eyes involuntarily closed, and every few moments, he discreetly yawned. Morana could barely stand on her feet, and her tongue seemed to produce words created by her mind with a delay when presenting arguments for him to postpone work and go to sleep. However, he insisted, sat down to read, and that was the end of it. Frightened by the prospect of breaking his promise or maybe appearing as an incompetent teacher, this fear often kept him awake at night, that something would not be done on time, that he would explain something wrong, and as an expert, he should know everything. He tried to control everything, and he took each lesson very seriously, something that practically no one except Morana seemed to notice. Maybe stress was taking its toll, and despite a good diet, it consumed him from the inside. He always looked good, dressed in an immaculate suit that smelled of his cologne (she could almost locate him in the castle by following the trail in the air), well-groomed beard, and perfectly combed hair... and now he looked almost radiant... Could anything be the reason for this other than the vacation? Someone?

Their eyes met. Aesop smiled shyly.

"I wonder what you told them about me? That person coming to them today is... who? Santa?"

Morana cleared her throat.

"A teacher."

"Hmmm, wonder which subject? Arts and Crafts?" he sneered sarcastically, thinking his joke was successful. His large hands, his height, gloomy clothes, and a menacing expression were rather the opposite of his idea of a typical artist, whether Muggle or wizard – someone dressed in colorful patterns, covered in paint, contemplative, and ethereal.

"Well, you could be one; you have extraordinary talent," Morana replied in a thoughtful voice, regretting that she hadn't thought of it before, because his drawings and sculptures spoke for themselves. Aesop blushed at the sound of the compliment and withdrew into himself, regretting bringing up the subject. "... but I said you teach chemistry; it seems to be the closest to what you do."

"Merlin..." he muttered, rolling his eyes, preparing for what was probably going to be the most abstract conversation in his life. "It will be funny."

*

From behind the mane of golden fields shimmering on the hill, a small farm emerged near the oak grove, surrounded by picturesque hills. Twisting, rocky paths and low walls separated the fields where sheep grazed. The barn, built of grey stone and roofed with slate, had been converted into a brewery. Between the tiles, a not-too-high, smoking chimney protruded. Wide doors, through which cows must have entered in the past, were now flanked on both sides by barrels labeled with a red emblem reading "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790." They extended along the wall under a small, long, angular cottage attached to it, whose right half had been converted into a stable for a pony and a small carriage.

Aesop sniffed, sensing the intoxicatingly sweet aroma in the air, which he deduced as malt, bringing to mind something between caramel and raw bread dough that his mom often made without magic. Wait a minute... he thought. He recognized that smell. Sometimes, that's how Morana's parchment smelled when she handed it in for assessment or even her clothes when she returned to school after a weekend spent at the Dimms'.

Morana, just beyond the gate with a sign that read "DIMM'S BREWERY Finest beer est. 1790," stopped the horses and helped Aesop dismount onto the slippery cobblestone surface that covered the entire courtyard. She immediately handed him a cane and an umbrella. The stable boys, having greeted them, started unpacking barrels marked with a red label reading "BUTTER BEER." Morana quickly detached the pony and rushed Hranolka to the stable. Aesop wondered whether the men could see the thestral or if they weren't entirely aware of her presence in the brewery. The pony trotted slowly behind the winged beast, and they quickly reached the feed. Morana unhooked their bridles, hanging them on a hook, and led Sharp towards the cottage.

The modest rural dwelling was very well-kept; the windows sparkled with cleanliness, flowers bloomed in pots, and bees and bumblebees buzzed around them when it stopped raining. The cobblestone was cleared of all weeds and unwanted leaves. Aesop rarely visited the Muggle world, but the only difference he saw for now was the lack of magical pruning shears trimming the flowers in the pots. He felt completely at ease and, for safety, tucked his wand deep into his sleeve, not wanting to feel too comfortable and reach for it in the company of Morana's adoptive family.

The woman shook the dust off her patched dress and confidently entered the house, giving Aesop a wide smile and a chin nod to follow her. Sharp felt a bit uneasy, which always accompanied him during meetings with people he didn't know at all. He wiped his sweaty hands on his coat, and leaning awkwardly to avoid hitting his forehead against one of the beams, he took an uncertain step inside. In the brightly colored light from the stained glass windows, the room was very cozy. Warm colors dominated, hand-knitted tablecloths and napkins, patchwork throws on sofas and armchairs arranged around a pleasantly glowing fireplace. The floor creaked crisply with each of his steps, mixing with the clinking of a wooden spoon hitting an enamel pot, which Mrs. Dimm, standing by the stove, was stirring, as Aesop deduced from the smell, a carrot soup. The only problem was the... very low ceiling. Sharp tilted his head unnaturally, fearing a too-close encounter between his forehead and one of the beams, and removed his coat, hanging it on the hook near the door. Seeing that Morana had taken off her shoes, he cursed under his breath that he had to wear his crazy socks today, his lucky ones with nifflers chasing after coins. Leaning against the wall, he dealt with his footwear, not wanting to expose himself to anyone's disapproval by not following the rules in this household, despite the knee that had been bothering him a bit more for the past few days.

Morana approached Mrs. Dimm and, gently touching her shoulder, whispered very quietly that Professor Aesop Sharp had arrived.

"Yes, I know, I heard you laughing from afar already," she replied in a whisper and, patting Morana's hand affectionately, turned towards the guest, removing her apron.

"Well, well, what a sense of hearing she got..." Aesop thought, greeting her and bowing low, observing how the face of the gray-haired woman with rosy cheeks suddenly brightened with a broad smile.

"Please come in, have a seat wherever you're comfortable, I'll be right there!" she gestured with her hand, indicating the living room area. "Mo, fetch some water and please make tea, you must be freezing!"

"Mo, how lovely..." Aesop smiled, hearing Morana being referred to with a term of endearment he would have never thought of. For a moment, he stood still, contemplating this, and how well it suited Morana, then, the clinking of a spoon, which Mrs. Dimm dropped by accident on the floor, snapped him out of his thoughts. Morana went to fetch water from the well, and Aesop hobbled to help the elderly woman left in the kitchen by picking up the lost utensil.

"Can I help you with anything?" he offered, handing her a spoon, which the woman grabbed quite awkwardly, intriguing him instantly. She looked in a slightly different direction than his face when assuring him that she had everything under control, and at that moment, Aesop was sure she bwas blind. For a split second, he felt sorry for her, but he had no intention of asking intrusive questions. Seizing this moment, he very quietly took a shrunken cupcake tin secured with fabric from his pocket and, with the discreetest wand movement he had ever performed, enlarged and heated it. The scent immediately intrigued Mrs. Dimm.

"I brought a little treat for you..." he mumbled shyly. His legs were trembling. Damn, he could have taken a sip of Felix Felicis, but of course, Aesop Sharp from the past considered it foolish.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" she smiled and, sliding her hand over the countertop, found an empty plate. "Could you arrange them? I'm afraid I might scatter them all over the room." she chuckled. "Please don't be afraid of me; just make yourself comfortable. I hear you're a bit... hmmm... nervous."

Aesop's lips tightened into a line, so thin it practically disappeared from his face. He fidgeted, trying to string together some sentences, but Mrs. Dimm found his arm in the air and, patting it affectionately, signaled him to take a comfortable seat and let her finish the soup, which was starting to bubble dangerously. Morana squeezed into the room carrying two buckets of water, and with a mischievous smile to Aesop, she began to brew tea. He sat sunk in a chair that was too soft and small for him, looking at the cupcakes on the plate before him or nervously glancing at Morana in search of rescue, as if he were expecting a conversation with Professor Black at the very least.

Finally, both women sat on the sofa opposite him. Morana handed him a teacup, carefully observing his trembling hand.

"Is everything okay?" her concerned look asked, and Aesop nodded.

"My husband is feeling a bit unwell today and is resting upstairs, I apologize that he couldn't come down to greet you..." Mrs. Dimm said quietly, and Aesop immediately assured her that it was no problem and apologized for intruding at such a moment.

Mrs. Dimm smiled broadly. "You have a truly beautiful voice," she confessed unexpectedly, immediately met with Morana's sharp look and a stern "tsk" that came out of her mouth, that which amused Aesop. The old woman completely ignored her and continued, "Only that accent... Hmmm... London? No, no... That's not it... Oxford, yes. You come from higher spheres, don't you, Mr. Sharp? It's rare to hear someone speak in a similar way around here... but... You don't behave like one of them; you know the local customs as if you've lived in the Highlands for some time." She took a sip of tea and reached for a cupcake, and a sly smile danced on her lips.

It surprised him that he found a resemblance to Morana in her... Some words lingered when she spoke, the specific manner of talking, wise words... The list of such details was undoubtedly long, and he couldn't wait to start discovering them all.

"I see you have a detective's soul," he confessed jokingly. "Yes, my father is from Oxford, and I spent many years working in London by his side. My entire childhood, on the other hand, with Mummy, right in those areas."

"I knew it!" Mrs. Dimm exclaimed, almost spilling her tea, pleased with her deduction. "I love listening to detective novels; I have a whole little library, and I always dreamed of becoming an officer..." Aesop glanced towards a sizable bookcase, its shelves bent from an excess of literature. "Unfortunately... I was born blind, and a career at Scotland Yard was quickly knocked out of my head."

"Well..." Aesop cleared his throat, feeling that she might be impressed, even though he didn't quite know what Scotland Yard was. "I was a detective for almost fifteen years..."

Mrs. Dimm took in a large amount of air, and Aesop had the impression that she would start squeaking in delight any moment now. However, she composed herself and turned to Morana.

"Darling, why didn't you tell me about it earlier?"

"Mrs. Dimm, Professor Sharp needs some rest, and you probably wouldn't want him to come and tell stories all the time." Morana laughed, giving Aesop a meaningful look.

"Well, it probably would be like that..." she admitted with a sad smile, fidgeting with her legs like an impatient child. "Mo only told me that you ended your previous job, which you genuinely loved, earlier due to an accident. She didn't specify what happened, but I heard that you limp, and it's probably the result of what happened... It must have been a difficult decision... But well, life writes various scenarios... Unexpected... Often it takes away the dreams we want to give us what we need."

Mrs. Dimm's words touched Aesop deeply.

"I'm not surprised that Morana is so brilliant since she's under your care," he confessed quietly, with a soft voice, looking at Mora, who blushed and lowered her gaze.

"Hmmm..." Mrs. Dimm smiled, and her thoughts drifted towards memories. She adjusted herself on the sofa and took a sip of tea. "I don't know much about your past, but there's something in you that makes me think I can share our story... Morana is quite reserved towards people, but the way she speaks of you and trusts you... suggests to me that I can add a few details to the story known to everyone in the area... Many years we tried for a child with my husband, and when we finally succeeded and the baby came into the world... we only managed to give it a name before letting it go in our arms. I couldn't recover for a long time, and the fact that Marcus had to work, often traveling, did not help. But eventually, time healed our wounds... And so we immersed ourselves in everyday life, which didn't mean we weren't happy; on the contrary... But one day, the mailman brought me a letter in which Marcus chaotically wrote about a girl sleeping in a pile of hops between our barrels... We immediately decided to take her in, even though we were advised against it, told that she was a little witch, a devil, that there were many 'well-behaved' girls we could adopt... Ugh, as if adoption were a market, monstrous. We saw it as a sign, as magic. Little Mo had a spirited character and reminded me of myself from childhood." Aesop watched Morana closely, who looked in a different direction, and her face was covered in shadows. It was evident that she felt uncomfortable, as if someone were talking about someone else entirely, not about her. Suddenly, she stood up, announcing that she would take the soup to Mr. Dimm, slipped out of the room.

Mrs. Dimm, hearing the creak of the chair, gestured with her hand for Aesop not to stop her and sat down.

"Stubborn, always covered in mud, and seeking adventures." she continued in a calm voice. "We never prohibited her from doing what she loved, and even though she disappeared for a few days, she always returned to us with spruce branches in her hair, a few bruises, and sometimes even a knocked-out milk tooth. I forbade Marcus from punishing her because it worked the opposite of intentions... I know because I experienced it firsthand when my father often whipped me with a belt... And yet, I ran away even more, which might seem strange given my disability, but I always found a way to navigate the terrain and reach my goal... Anyway, my father was definitely someone I didn't want to be for Morana..."

"I know something about that..." Aesop interjected quietly. "My father didn't spare the belt and cane on me, which was one of the main reasons my mother left him. I know his raised voice and often his fist were a sign of his helplessness and stupidity... As is any violence against the weaker ones."

"Hmmm... I'm glad Morana found someone on her level... Although I've met all her friends and think they're wonderful, especially Mr. Gaunt, with whom I have a lot in common... They're still children and look at many things differently than Morana, or don't think about them at all. I knew there was something special about you because Morana didn't talk much about you, unlike practically everyone else. (Oh, dear, I even know what brush her headmaster uses to comb his beard.) Sometimes, she has many secrets, important mysteries."

"I rather doubt there's anything special about me..." Sharp shrugged. "Except that I'm one of the less liked teachers at the school."

"Hmm, yet I haven't seen those more liked here... Except for that boorish professor... what was his name... ah, Fig! He had quite the audacity." She smiled very mysteriously and beckoned him to come closer. "Can I see you?" she asked, raising her hands slightly. Aesop agreed to the request and crawled out of his seat, sitting on the edge of the sofa and allowing the old woman to touch his face. It was nothing new for him; Mr. Gaunt had also recognized his face in this manner when he started at Hogwarts, and all the teachers were asked to do so. Mrs. Dimm's wrinkled hands' touch was very delicate, maternal. "It might sound strange, but after hearing your voice somewhere near the ceiling, I assume you're quite tall."

Aesop laughed. "Thanks to my mum. We both walk with our heads in the clouds."

Mrs. Dimm chuckled and asked about the color of his hair, beard, eyes, to which he replied in detail, not hiding the fact that most of his beard was gray.

"I've never seen colors in my life, but I like their sound, like brown or blue. I don't like the word yellow or blonde..." She stopped when her fingers found his scar. She became serious, and her hands left his face. "Oh yes... True kindred spirit... I think I understand everything now..." she whispered very mysteriously.

What's on her mind? Her eyes covered with a veil seemed to see much more than others, observing. Suddenly, Aesop felt a bit like when he was with Morana, like a Muggle wanting to shout "WITCH!", feeling that she had abilities beyond his understanding...

"I think I've confused you a bit, I apologize; I can be very blunt..."

"You're definitely very mysterious." he admitted, suppressing laughter, and returned to his seat. Now he was not at all surprised that Fig had trouble gaining their trust, assuming that simple people, Muggles, would be less cunning than him.

Morana from the upper floor could barely catch snippets of their conversation, occasionally interrupted by the louder whistling of the wind dancing around the chimney. Every now and then, she tenderly handed Mr. Dimm a spoonful of carrot soup as he finished the previous one.

He looked much better. Seated in bed, propped up by several pillows, covered with a blanket, he could endure this position a bit longer than yesterday. He was still pale, but his skin was regaining color. Today, he even read for a while, which Morana considered a significant success. And he ate with appetite. When the bowl was empty, and Morana placed it on the bedside table, Mr. Dimm adjusted his cap, which he wore even indoors, fearing drafts, and took a deep breath, as if contemplating what he was about to say.

"I think it's a good time to discuss something with you, Mora," he confessed quietly. "In some time, the brewery and the farm will be yours, so I thought it would be best if you take over some of my responsibilities during the summer holidays this year... Of course, you can do whatever you want with the brewery, but even if you decide to sell everything, the merchants won't appear immediately; it might take a year or two, and it's better if everything works to generate as much income as possible... Don't look at me like that; I don't plan to die soon, but I want you to be able to handle everything in case I'm gone and not drown in debts." He grumbled in a stern tone, seeing her frightened expression, and continued, "Lyra and I decided that this year you will go abroad on your own... You can take someone trustworthy with you because we don't want you to be completely alone. Not because we doubt your abilities, but because loneliness can be quite overwhelming. We have much to catch up due to my illness, and I was planning to cancel the trip entirely, but I think it's a good time for you to explore the market on your own. You know how to haggle, and you know which hops are the best; I wouldn't trust anyone else with this task... Well... What's that sad little expression of yours, Mo?" he asked gently, seeing the corners of her mouth turned down, and lightly touched her cheek. "Next year, when I feel better, I'll go with you, but I'll be more of a companion, and you'll already be the boss. I'll be able to enjoy Czech beer without worrying that I'm at work." He joked, lifting Morana's spirits a bit. She smiled and placed her hand on his.

The silence was interrupted by a timid knock on the door, and with Mr. Dimm's permission, Aesop entered the room.

"Oh, Mr. Sharp, nice to meet you!" the old man exclaimed. "Please, come in. I secretly hoped I'd manage to come downstairs, but I'm not strong enough yet."

Aesop entered the room cautiously to shake Mr. Dimm's hand and began to scrutinize all the details, hoping to find some typically "Muggle" extraordinary objects, which immediately brought disappointment. Fireplace, bed, armchair, rug... Meh... He thought.

"How are you feeling?" he asked Marcus shyly.

"Well, thank you; my two angels take care of me." He glanced proudly at Morana. "And sometimes they are overly protective because I can eat on my own; I don't need to be fed." He smiled at Aesop and, after a moment, asked with a serious tone, concern in his voice, "How is Mora doing at school? Has she skipped any classes?"

Sharp immediatelly thought about killed trolles and poachers turned to smithereens, oh and a dragon, but shook his head, and Mr. Dimm's eyes lit up with pride.

"She passed her exams very well, although her po..." He bit his tongue before saying "potions" and quickly sought a substitute word. "Potential in chemistry is significant; she just lacks patience."

"That's interesting! Lately, Morana has been weighing the beer, and Mrs. Sirona, our best customer, hasn't complained about a change in its taste... You see, the process is quite complicated, and one errant sneeze cuould be disastrous."

"I see that you're a man of culture," Sharp said, shooing Morana out of the armchair and sitting down, listening with interest to Mr. Dimm.

"Well at least when it comes to bear! I know everything about it. My family owned a network of breweries for years, but after the crisis, we had to sell everything and focus on this small one to stay on the market without going bankrupt due to excessive expenses. We chose quality over quantity, and it paid off. I've been working in it for as long as I can remember. Lyra, on the other hand, studied at home when she was little. She has aristocratic roots, but her father quickly brought the family business to ruin. I often saw him drunk when I was a delivery boy visiting their house with orders, and Lyra would throw frogs into my bottle crates... None of us could afford a proper school, so we're determined to give Mo a better start. I won't allow her to be at the mercy and whim of a husband, like the daughters of my industry colleagues! Hell, with her knowledge already, she's becoming quite the competition! Maybe you'll show Mr. Sharp around the brewery, huh? And I'll take a nap." He suggested, subtly indicating that he needed rest. Morana nodded. "Please, come by again someday, Mr. Sharp; we'll have a chat and enjoy some fresh beer." He winked at him, and Aesop gladly accepted the invitation.

Morana didn't say much as they said their goodbyes and headed to the brewery. She felt like she was hearing Aesop's voice from under the water surface; he summarized the visit, pleased with the meeting. She was absent, contemplating Mr. Dimm's words, worrying about his health.

Aesop caught snippets of their conversation as he cautiously climbed the narrow stone stairs, so now, seeing concern on Morana's face, he completely understood her and fell silent, allowing her thoughts to drift in silence. She needed a moment of calm to sort everything in her mind, and deep down, he regretted leading her to the brewery, to show him how it worked, which didn't matter much to him now...

They walked slowly, him leaning on his cane, admiring the extraordinary machinery, the vats of malt, the pleasant aroma, and the ease with which Morana operated the complex apparatus. All of this wasn't important to him at the moment. He saw pain in her eyes, and he wanted to interrupt her, to talk somewhere private, in a quiet place, to let her calm down... On the other hand, he didn't have the heart to silence her story about the creamy beer, which she spun with such passion, answering each of his questions meticulously. Torn, he waited, enjoying her words.

"Aesop..." she said softly, unexpectedly, when they stepped outside. He supported himself with a cane, leaning slightly, listenning her. "I need to talk to you."

"Hm?" he asked, looking deep into her sad eyes, seeing through them the words that tangled in her mind. She lowered her gaze, glancing at servants.

"Not here, I'll escort you to the Castle; I haven't been there in ages." Aesop nodded, and with a discreet wave of his wand, he toppled a few barrels deep into the brewery, immediately alerting the workers. When they disappeared from Sharp's view, he extended his arm towards Morana; she took it, and they disapparated with a loud snap.

They walked arm in arm on the muddy path leading towards the Castle. Morana breathed deeply, seeing the familiar sight she had missed from the abundance of responsibilities.

"I had such a nice day that I forgot why I came here at all." Aesop chuckled. Yes, His deep chuckle was also something she missed, and before she could turn her head towards him, he slipped a small book, about the size of a prayer book, into her tiny hand. The cover was enigmatic, adorned with black, rough leather. Morana turned it a few times in her hands, but she found no title on the covers or the spine. In the yellowed pages, someone, probably Aesop, inserted small bookmarks. The first page was titled "Faces of Curses," and the foreword explained that the book dealt with a scientific analysis of scars and wounds that curses, dark magic spells, potions, and dark artifacts could leave.

"It's not the most pleasant read... Wizards use it for investigating crime scenes... My friend wrote it some time ago, you could say I also contributed to its creation... I marked a few cases that might interest you..."

Morana followed the first bookmark and encountered a rather drastic photograph of someone's arm marked with a monstrous wound... curls resembling burns and a few longer lacerations that seemed familiar to her own scar after a few moments. The title read: "Case 156: Memory-altering spells, memory-erasing spells." Other cases, similarly marked by Sharp, were related to Obliviate-like spells. Others resembled scars that a young Thestral had; they were only labeled as "dark magic."

Morana took a deep breath wanting to share her plans, the thoughts that had been swirling in her head for a long time... And now, when the opportunity presented itself... She didn't have the courage to confess them to anyone, as she knew she couldn't solve many issues with those she knew. Except for a certain former Auror, a detective.

"In a week, I'm going to Nitra. I want to know what happened that day to me, but... I need help," she wrinkled her brows, angry at herself for imposing on Aesop, afraid he might think she was using him for her purposes, and he might not be up for it. She was a young student; he had his own life and was her teacher, not a friend... She shouldn't... "Of course, I'll understand if the answer is 'no'..."

Aesop fell into thought, somewhat surprised by the proposition of a joint journey. He felt as if an angel was sitting on one of his shoulders, explaining to him that "traveling with a young, unmarried woman almost begged for scandal"; on the other shoulder, the devil chanted, "Adventure, ADVENTURE, puzzles, investigation, AESOP, I know you love investigations." He swallowed hard. The angel continued about conventions, while the devil raised the strongest argument: "You know... It's uncertain what awaits her there... To what or WHO clues might lead her to... Are you sure the emotions accompanying her search for her mother and father won't drown her vigilance? If she fell into an ambush, who knows, maybe she could even... die."

"Well... In a week, we have a meeting at school, but... But maybe a day later, I could reach the Floo flame in Vienna; from there, it's not so far to Nitra, I suppose..." he spoke with a trembling voice, nervously rubbing his hands together when he hid his cane and umbrella in case of meeting with any student. "If you wait for me one day, I'd be happy to help you... if you want help, because, in the end, I don't know what kind of help you're expecting from me, but I guess I'd be more useful on the spot than sending owls..." he babbled, not entirely sure what he was saying. Suddenly, a small hand grasped his arm, and a pair of two shiny eyes reflecting the cloudy sky gazed at him.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking him under her arm. Her hand rested on his forearm, subconsciously squeezing her fingers on a pretty hard muscle she could sense from undeerneeth his cloak, as if seeking Aesop's support. She felt more confident walking beside him in this way, as if he represented solid ground in the ocean that often flooded her mind with negative thoughts, especially when she had no contact with him. Aesop initially stiffened, wanting to assure her that he could walk quite well on his own... but... Well, after a few steps, he felt warmth spreading around his heart, and a blissful smile spread across his lips.

The devil on his shoulder kept chanting: "ADVENTURE, ADVENTURE! "

End of part 9, thanks for reading!

[oc-tournaments]

ROUND ONE - MATCH 10

DALO vs ANDREW MCCARTHY/HERO

DALO: @genericswordsmaiden

ANDREW MCCARTHY/HERO: @the-real-uranus

VOTE BASED ON THE INFORMATION BELOW CUT!!

Propaganda Content Warnings: Suicide, assault, internalised homophobia, animal death, dismemberment, alcoholism for DALO. Parental death for ANDREW. Please read with care.

DALO:

PROPAGANDA: Dalo is a ghost, she died by suicide at the age of 27, and in the world of the dead where she now resides, which is actually a purgatory of sorts, she has to endure loneliness because suicides can get corrupted - change form and become aggressive spirits - and are therefore ostracized by other ghosts. Born in an abusive family, starved during her childhood and bullied at school, Dalo develops trust issues growing up, her only friend being a pen pal, Luka, and her mentor, a man whom she only remembers as Professor. Dalo is not her real name, but a nickname that eventually erased her original name. At age 16, she gets physically assaulted by a group of guys and survives, but gets big ugly scars on her back that she tries to hide in every way she can. When she gets the chance, she travels to the city of Providence, renting an apartment with Luka.

They form a band with two other characters, Mary and Sam, but soon tensions arise, mainly because they all love Sam in some way, and this puts Dalo in an uncomfortable situation because she doesn't really know how to deal with feelings. She ultimately decides to put them aside and think about how to help Luka deal with his homosexuality instead. In this period of time, which lasts about three months, another tragedy occurs: Dalo and Luka's cat, whom they treated as a son, is found killed one evening. This brings the two even closer, grief shutting them out of the world for a while. As if that wasn't enough, Sam, thinking that Luka and Dalo became a couple, marries Mary instead, breaking two hearts at once. Just when it seems like everything is slowly flowing normally again, Luka has a breakdown and asks Dalo if God can accept him as he is. The choice of words in her answer to such a cryptic question is crucial and will forever change her life, as well as ultimately end his, since he goes missing from that evening, until his body is found in a bag a week later, chopped up into pieces.

The weight of the event is too much for her to bear, the guilt and pain make her turn to alcoholism. Her last choice was cold and calculated, she saw no value in a life like hers, so after months of suffering she took her own life. As a ghost, this choice hunts her, also because it made her directly linked to the main antagonist of the book, but this is a lore-heavy detail and I don't really want to delve into it. Her other big character trait is the fact that, with a life like that, she has tons of repressed anger, which all comes crashing out of her (literally) at some point in the story. Her power as a ghost is summoning chains, which symbolise both her guilt and the desperate need to be "chained to someone", to have some kind of bond with another person.

THEME SONG:

ANDREW MCCARTHY/HERO:

PROPAGANDA: When he was just eight years old, he witnessed his parents being brutally beaten to death by a vigilante. His parents were thieves, and he knew this, but he was shocked that it caused a vigilante to kill them. He began to cry, but people would only apologise because 'they must've been horrible to you!' From then on, Drew decided to become the one to wipe out all vigilantes and self-proclaimed heroes, he was going to rid this world of the murder of those who don't deserve it, he was going to the the one true HERO. When he turned eighteen, he snuck into a laboratory and injected himself with chemicals that gave him superhuman abilities.

He was bribed into joining a criminal organisation with the promise that it'd attract vigilantes for him to kill and is made to kidnap, torture and sometimes kill innocent citizens.

Nobody seems to understand his hatred for vigilantes. Nobody understands him, anyway.

Also, not a "god's favourite punching bag" thing, but I wanna share this because it makes me happy, he's autistic like me and his special interest is street magic!

THEME SONG:

[talesfromsiteredacted]

Random Things Dr. Cimmerian Said Asleep

Dr. Cimmerian is, first, typically a ray of sunshine. Second, he has a bad habit of dozing off while reviewing reports. And drooling on a few here and there. He does say some weird shit while asleep, I blame the copious amounts of coffee everybody consumes. Once more, without context!

"Peaches? With long pork? Pushing the boundaries of fine cannibal dining I see, Ferdinand. I'd suggest some shiraz or a nice zinfandel."

"Yoshi! Put down that D-Class right this instant! He's a very boring serial killer. The nice Chaos Insurgency guy next to him would taste better, not that we condone a humanitarian diet here."

"Dyo, honestly... the crinoline is outdated with good reason, namely it's too damned impractical. Stick to corsetry."

"Eighty kilos of gunpowder, twenty kilos of iron nails, a further twenty kilos of roofing tar? In her skirts? I've heard people say 'If I'm going to die, you're coming with me!' before, but... that's hard-core. No wonder they stopped burning witches after that. Woman was a massive legend, but not a witch. A REAL witch wouldn't need all that to make burning her a bad idea."

"Clef... your ex... Woman has an entire magazine warehouse of issues. And you put your junk in the crazy. Never. Sleep. With. The. Crazy."

"Dad? Why is the beer growing mushrooms?"

"AAAAAHHH! WHO THE UNHOLY HELLS GAVE 096 A FUCKING CLOWN SUIT!"

"Put down the cake knife and walk away, Dr. Bright. You knew when you asked Mabel for German chocolate what you're in for. Besides, you could just hit her with her own terrible cake. Not that O5 would condone that, of course."

"Uh... Ben? Is it me, or are the daisies staring us down?"

"We actually nailed jello to a tree once. Clef bet Kondraki $200 he could figure out how it's done. Benny almost ate his sword over that one. Turns out you can do it, provided you simply nail the unopened box to the tree."

"Cain, can you locate in the notes where anyone asked Dr. Matthieu for his opinion?" A pause. "Nowhere? Huh. As I thought. Thank you."

"Whomever said you couldn't herd cats never was at my Aunt Martha's house. All she had to do to herd cats was just touch the food bag, and every cat in her house came running."

"WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO FEED THAT POOR IDIOT TO 682? He's going to get an upset stomach."

"Uh... Agent Dimitriov? I think you might have forgotten part of your uniform. Aren't your knees cold?"

"Are you sure we can't just yeet him out of the airlock when no one's looking? Yes, I know the spaceship is on Earth still, but it's far enough off the ground for terminal velocity to become a factor. Just push him out of the vent."

"You hit the Scarlet King in the junk, with a hammer? And survived? Okay, Abel... I take it back. You're not just a Semetic badass, you're THE Semetic Badass."

"How? How in the hells did you manage to shoot yourself in the back with no one else around you in a sealed room? The fuck you mean, 'The Invisible Man has a gun?' Admit it, you had someone shoot you to get out of Peanut-sitting again, didn't you?"

"Coffee. Extra large, heavy on the cream and sugar. No, larger than that. Larger." A pause. "What do you mean, you don't sell by the gallon?"

"Dr. Gears. This is the SCP Foundation. Sarcasm and pessimism are practically survival mechanisms here. Give the kid a pass."

"NOOOO! COME ON, WHAT THE BLUE FUCK DID OREGON DO TO DESERVE LENNY? YOU UTTER BASTARDS!" In the middle of a meeting with the Ethics Committee, eyebrows were raised, and coffee spilled.

"Run."

"I, too, would rather be under the sea, in an octopuses garden in the shade. You thinking what I'm thinking, my dive brother? Right. Let's leave these landlubbers and go hang with the fishes."

"Funny, 035. First, we can't KEEP you dressed, now you're out here looking like a weird ass male version of Rogue from the X-Men. Malicious compliance is acceptable, I suppose."

"You keep making poultry explode, Alto. Perhaps your charming assistant should give you cooking lessons?"

"WHY IS EVERYTHING ON FIRE?!? AGAIN?"

"Screw the files! Don't let 999 burn! That little blob of joy is my only reason to live."

"That's it. Get me a team of ten really strong D-Class, a case of 100 mph tape, a tranquilizer gun fully loaded, the electric purple snow leopard furry suit in lost and found, and a camera. Let this be the last time anyone sees Bright butt in public."

"I'm not above blackmail and we both know it. Gimme. The. Pie."

"Simon? I think this might be above my skill level. Can you please get Dr. King to calm down?"

"I can't believe Agatha talked him into a mankini. Didn't need photo evidence though."

"WHO THE HELLS TAUGHT THE KETCHUP PUPPIES TO 'FETCH THE LEG'? Max? That's... honestly impressive. Pity about that guy from MC&D, though. He did have it coming, to be honest."

"You ran... the Bible... through the Clockworks? On "Very Fine". And, got basically over a thousand pages of 'Try not to be an asshole, mmmmkay?'. Experiment inconclusive. Run the 'Communist Manesfesto' through next, my accountant is curious."

"Why are you here? Basically, 343 likes a joke as much as the next person. Oh. You meant why are you in the Femur Breaker? Well, we gotta get 106 back in containment somehow. That's where you come in. For what it's worth, I'm sorry about this, you seem like a lovely fellow."

"They're just firing arrows at us. You have an SMG, shoot them back. Some MTF agent you are."

"He's dating THAT? I've seen less silicone in a RealDoll. And, better fashion sense, for that matter."

"Wait... hold the phone, Abel. You're older than Jesus, but never had a cannoli? Rabbit, my girl, this will not stand. Cannoli the man!" A brief pause. "I KNOW, RIGHT? Whomever invented the cannoli deserves a sainthood."

"Primitive and outdated concept on a crutch!" Preceded by a thump.

"New Bright List entry: 'Dr. Bright is no longer allowed to access the Cursed Clown Nose of Improbability under any circumstances. No, not even to prevent an XK Class Scenario.' Noted. This item #857, or 858? I lost track."

"WHAT kind of butter? Oh. I thought you said something altogether more horrifying."

"JULIAN, YOU ABSOLUTE WALNUT! You forgot Quinn's birthday. Of COURSE you're in trouble for it. I got you covered though. They're still into lemons and tea, right? You're golden. Lemon blossom tea set, courtesy of the fine folks of Etsy. Pay me back on Friday."

[betwixtbeasts]

BETWIXTBEASTS WRITEBLR INTRO

ABOUT ME;

hello! my name is Ezra, also known as betwixt beasts. I'm in my early thirties, acespec, bisexual, and non-binary, and I use they/them pronouns. I'm a college student and aspiring educator, and I have adhd, depression, chronic pain, and anxiety. I keep fish tanks, have a cat, and when I'm not writing or working on school I'm usually reading or gaming.

most, if not all, of the fiction that I write is romantic. and it's a rare day that I write something that doesn't involve some level of fantasy or sci-fi. oh, and it's all very queer. at the moment I'm posting a bit on wattpad, but I also would like to eventually use p*treon, and perhaps other publishing methods, in the future.

my hope is to make some new friends, find more to read, and also learn more about writing here on tumblr. and maybe promote my own work a little, as well!

a note; this tumblr may contain nsfw text and/or images and written smut. if you are under 18 or feel uncomfortable with that kind of content, please do not follow. thank you!

WORKS IN PROGRESS;

the dragon queen

To protect her people, Aellys must marry the dragonking, unite their empires, and defeat the leviathans who would rule them all.

Dragons and humans have been mortal enemies for as long as anyone can remember, and Queen Aellys hates dragons more than most. They’re monsters who deserve nothing but death and destruction, and she will personally hunt every dragon that sets foot on her land or wing in her sky.

But something worse is coming.

Leviathans are emerging from the sea, great beasts of legend who once had aspirations to take over the world. It was only when humans and dragons united were they defeated before. And it is only when humans and dragons unite that they will be defeated once again.

requiem (book one of the triumvirate trilogy)

A hundred years ago, vampires, witches, and werewolves emerged from hiding, revealing themselves to humanity. Soon after that, they took over the world. Forming the Triumvirate, the three ruling classes, humans became second-class citizens, serving their supernatural betters.

Oliver is one of the hidden, an unregistered human, hiding from the forces of the Triumvirate to live a life of freedom. Until he is betrayed by one he loves, and sentenced to ten years of indentured servitude. He expects to be sent to labor in one of the factories or in the fields - instead, he’s auctioned off, and sold to a vampire as a servant and source of blood.

Just when Oliver thinks it can’t get any worse, he meets his new master, the vampire Prince, one-third of the Triad who rule the country. Theo Montgomery has a reputation, and it isn’t a kind one. But Prince Theo won’t take what isn’t freely given.

And as Oliver is introduced to the decadent world of noble vampire society, he’ll learn nothing is as he thought.

at the edge of the sea

Prince Felix Darrow has spent his whole life dreaming of the sea.

But living in landlocked Vadraia, he’s never even seen the ocean.  Not until his father, the king, announces his marriage to Princess Nadiya of Apresh, deciding his future in one fell swoop. No matter that Felix has never felt an ounce of attraction to anyone before, or that he doesn’t want to become prince-consort. But his father insists he do his duty to his country, and so Felix is sent away, across the ocean, to a foreign land.

When his ship runs into a terrible storm, Felix is thrown into the sea, a deadly fate. If the water doesn’t kill him, the many creatures who call the ocean home surely will. Or so he thinks.

Until he grows gills at his throat, and scales on his back.

Felix is one of the seafolk, a merman, inherited through the mother he never knew. But as he discovers an empire under the sea, and freedom he never felt before, can Felix resist the pull of the land he once walked upon?

When he’s captured by fishermen, Felix believes his fate is sealed. Until a pirate attack changes everything.