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[nightfayre]

(for @beautifulboysbeingbusy, who requested a drabble about guan shan’s mother and he tian. enjoy! <3)

———

There’s no doubt about it: He Tian is a bright, polite, and kind boy.

Mrs. Mo particularly enjoys the way he carries small talk. He’s attentive and responsive, neither too eager nor too formal. He has great posture and makes eye contact often. He asks about her work and offers to help set the table or put away dishes. He never lets the silence stretch too long, always filling it with insightful questions or amicable comments. Yes, from the few times she’s met him, Mrs. Mo can tell that He Tian is a courteous, respectful, and well-tempered boy.

It’s for those very same reasons, however, that she simply can’t understand Guan Shan’s taking to him.

“Auntie?”

She blinks. She’s standing near the table, looking at He Tian. He looks back at her, a cup of orange juice in his bandaged hand, clearly waiting for a response to a question she hadn’t heard.

“Oh,” she says, a bit embarrassed. “I’m so sorry, dear. I got lost in my thoughts for a moment. What did you say?”

“I was wondering if you made this yourself,” He Tian says, raising his cup. “It’s delicious.”

“Yes, I did,” she responds, smiling. She isn’t used to her cooking being complimented so often by anyone other than Guan Shan, but between last night’s soup and today’s breakfast, He Tian can’t seem to stop. “I used the juicer. Guan Shan always preferred juice fresh-squeezed, so I try to do it on special occasions.”

He Tian hums, raising the glass for another sip. “And is this a special occasion?”

Mrs. Mo pauses. Down the hall, she can hear the faucet running in Guan Shan’s bathroom. They have a few minutes at least. Setting down the bowl of rice she holds, she sits in the chair opposite of He Tian.

“In a strange way, yes, I think it is,” she says. “You know, you’re the only friend Guan Shan has had over before — much less spend the night.”

He Tian smiles. “Really? I’m surprised.”

Suddenly curious, she asks, “Are you?”

He shrugs. “Guan Shan has a following at school. I mean, it’s only two or three others, but I assumed he’d known them for a while before we met.”

“Oh.” She sits back, hands falling to her lap. A following? “I… didn’t know that. Guan Shan has never mentioned them.”

He Tian studies her for a moment. He must see something in her expression because eventually he puts his glass down, shifting in his chair.

“Between you and me,” he says, and she looks up, “I don’t think they’re very close. I’ve never seen them together outside of school, at least. But there are two others — Jian Yi and Zhan Zheng Xi — who’ve really helped me bring him out of his shell the past few weeks. Maybe I’m optimistic, but I’d like to think he considers us friends.”

She chuckles. “Well, I’m sure it wasn’t easy to convince him.”

He Tian laughs too. “Absolutely not.” He smirks, adding, “Guan Shan is just about the biggest closed book I’ve ever seen.”

“His father is the same,” Mrs. Mo says, fond. “You have to take a hammer and chisel to those two to get anything out of them. Trust me — I’m still mastering the art. But, once you do…”

And for a moment she remembers the night before, when she turned to find Guan Shan tugging He Tian away from the dinner table in a rush. She’d almost called out to them if it weren’t for the split-second glance she caught of her son’s face. His jaw was set and his brows furrowed, but his eyes were bright and focused in a way that didn’t mirror the bruises scattered across his body. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her son in a battered state, but it was the first time she’d ever seen him so indifferent to it, as if whatever urgency he held for He Tian overcame the unspoken resentment of his injuries. Somehow, she knew better than to interfere.

“There’s a lot to gain,” she finishes, a soft undertone to her words. “And a lot to learn, too. You just have to be adamant.”

“I think I’m starting to understand that.” There’s a pause, and then: “Your son is really an amazing person, you know.”

It brings an ache to her heart; a yearning tug full of love. She looks at He Tian and finds sincerity in his eyes, open and warm. And although she feels quite ridiculous for it, a quiet sting begins to build behind her own eyes, and she quickly blinks it away before reaching out to lay her hand over He Tian’s on the table. The bandaging feels rough against her palm, and although she still doesn’t know how the two boys ended up in such a state, she knows that whatever lies beneath their wrappings is the reason she’d been looking for; the reason behind Guan Shan’s taking to him. Whatever it is is enough for her, too. She gives him a featherlight squeeze before pulling back.

“He’ll never see himself that way,” she says, a touch of sadness tightening her throat. “His teachers and all the kids who pick on him have convinced him otherwise.”

He Tian shakes his head. “He’s hard working and good at heart,” he says. “It’s hard to find that in people these days.”

“I think he found it in you, dear.”

“I think he brought it out of me.”

She smiles. “All the better, then.”

Down the hall, a cabinet door thuds shut. It’s followed by shuffling and clanging, and Mrs. Mo knows her son’s routine well enough to know he’s almost done. Looking at He Tian, she offers one last sentiment.

“Always read between the lines with that boy. He’ll never say what he feels — he’ll show it.”

And if He Tian’s responding smile is anything to go off of, Mrs. Mo thinks her son already has.

[crimeronan]

god i wish i wouldn't have to explain the intricacies of the neopets economy to you guys to give the full context for this but. the new neopets team that took over from jumpstart pledged that they were going to curb the inflation of rare items, which is great because a lot of rare items are worth literally hundreds of millions of neopoints, they are unbuyable unless you've been playing actively for 20 years. they did this earlier with a site festival that included random loot boxes, some of which had Unbelievably Fucking Rare And Precious items worth 200 million neopoints apiece.

well.

today they have gone a step further. by releasing this year's trick-or-treat bags. and having the trick-or-treat bags be stuffed to the brim with unbelievably fucking rare stamps, weapons, paint brushes, defense magic, and other unbuyables. (all prohibitively expensive and in-high-demand types of items.)

jellyneo, the premier neopets website, has recorded prices of some items plummeting from 2,000,000 neopoints to 4,000 neopoints IN THE LAST THREE HOURS. this is when most people haven't even heard about the event or OPENED THEIR BAGS YET.

and of course. cherry on top. 20-year-old account holders are crytyping on the site events neoboard about how mean and cruel it is to make rare stamps part of the prize pool, because their entire identity hinges on being part of the neopian bourgeoisie, and they are having MELTDOWNS over their assets being devalued until they're part of the lowly proletariat.

this is a children's game for children btw.

none of the money is real.

i'm having such a good time.

[deoidesign]

Time and Time Again comes back tonight!

Thank you all for being so patient with me, I know it was a long hiatus.

My health was struggling, my arm was (is) hurting, and I decided it wasn't worth it. I'd rather be slow!

So thank you for giving me that grace, and I hope you'll be there with me for the rest of the series.

[ex0toxin]

awughhh silly shipchart.. my canonverse hcs 🧠

og post

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Bad Dreams)

Woah!! Bet you guys weren't expecting this one!!! (<- no but fr Idk if this one was even a drabble I mentioned wanting to do to anyone besides Ancha lmao-)

Regardless, here's a drabble that takes place a few months after Dream's exile!

(Hello @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)

It was quiet.

So dreadfully quiet.

The stone walls felt suffocating, and the darkness was too overwhelming. Even the light of his own magic wasn't enough to ward off the sickly feeling crawling up his spine and over his shoulders.

Roaving like clammy hands, clinging to his bones and threatening to drag him away.

He couldn't take this anymore.

It took effort, one hand over the other, eyes on the rest of the room he'd been placed in for now. One bed instead of two. His legs felt like jelly as he tugged them over the edge.

His feet landed in his sandals not a moment later, and he shoved away from the soft mattress which felt nothing like his own.

Hid eyelights lingered on the bottom of the frame. The shadow there, not reached by the little orb of emotion which hovered beside him, providing light to the barren room.

Perhaps, he feared something would crawl out of those shadows. Tendrils. Pointed and waving. Grasping. Creeping along the floor.

He took a shaking breath.

Another.

He had to at least be able to breathe.

Dream's legs carried him unceremoniously to one of the chairs located in the room where he'd abandoned his cloak.

It was too big on him, the gold and yellow meant for the form the prophecy would have provided him with. He'd taken it with him anyways.

He tugged it over his shoulders, abd the heavy weight smothered him. In a way, it warded off that chill. Just enough to give him the courage to hurry to the door and slip outside.

The hall felt colder than the room.

And almost quieter.

It was nothing like home. With servants and guards bustling about at all hours. With the gentle hum of his mother's magic pulsing through the walls. With his brother's-

No.

He couldn't think about that now.

He padded along through the empty halls. He still shook, but the longer he was in motion the more momentum he gained.

Dream moved swiftly through these unfamiliar and unfriendly halls, until he arrived at a familiar door.

A servant entrance, which he had only noticed because he'd heard horses somewhere beyond as it briefly opened during his first tour. He hated to use it, but he knew guards would be at the main exits.

So, carefully, he entered the space which held it.

A kitchen, of sorts. Piled high with the dishes yet to be cleaned, and with food stores which would last an army a century, tucked away into every shelf.

A part of him wondered what they even did with so much hidden away, but to be honest, he didn't care enough.

He pushed through the door with little effort, and felt a sense of relief rush over him as his sandals landed in damp, earthy grass.

A glance down revealed it had been stamped over hundreds of times by weary servants, so it was flat and lame, but he didn't let that bother him much. He was outside again.

Dream had been feeling suffocated in that stupid building. Out here it felt like that horrid shadow, haunting him, knew not to tread too closely in his wake.

The wind tugged at his overly-large cloak as he stood there a moment. The door swung shut behind him.

The sky, the stars, he felt like he was saying hello to an old friend met in a distant place.

Only a moment later he shook his skull free of his momentary relief. He had to keep moving. Had to do this now.

His eyelights skimmed the dark, and he extinguished his orb. The moon was more than bright enough to illuminate the place he was searching for.

The stables.

As he traversed the open lawn, he noticed. It too was different from the one he knew so well. It was smaller, and had closed outer walls. The doors were huge, and seemed to swing out like any other door. It would not slide like his own used to.

As he reached the entrance, he gently tugged it open. It gave way easily, and he slipped in, expecting to be plunged into the darkness of yet another enclosed building.

Yet... inside it seemed only a bit more shadowed.

The stalls were largely swathed in darkness, but a thin strip of light illuminated the alley between each part of the stalls. There was a skylight above, open air, that was letting the moonlight filter down.

The way it fell, it might's been just past midnight.

Dream moved forward, carefully and quietly. He didn't want to startle the horses. Most of them seemed to be resting just like the rest of the castle. Last thing he needed was to startle one of them.

While he needed to find one awake to keep going, maybe it was better that he not find one. Maybe...

Nope.

Fate must adore him.

There, a few stalls ahead, a movement. Through the space, a horse's head suspended from its thick neck extended majestically into the moonlight nearing its stall.

It seemed to shift, to get a look at him, before settling.

Dream was gentle in his approach, but fast. His hands were shaking now as he approached the horse.

A beautiful, clean white. Little freckles of blond dotting its muzzle and forehead. It was gorgeous.

It stayed still as Dream came close and reached out his hands. They trembled, and he wished he'd worn his gloved. He hated to see his bare bones in the moonlight.

The horse softly nuzzle its nose into his hand.

And sneezed.

Dream squeaked in surprise, recoiling away a bit. He tried to stay calm, if only to keep the horse from panicking, but it just snorted as it stared at him.

Of course he'd get horse-snot on his bare hands, and-

"Excuse you, miss." Came a playful, full voice.

Dream, this time, was less calm.

Why was there a voice? Who was down here?

His emotions must've broadcasted. As he stepped backwards into the moonbeam, the mare whinnied and realed back nervously, and there was a hum of surprise from within the stall.

Frozen in place, he watched as a faint movement, aside from the large shadow of the horse, rose from inside the stall.

Glowing.

Eyes turned to him. Eyelights, like his, a wide and curious sky blue.

And then they drew closer, and where the mare once extended her neck to him, now stood a monster he starkly recognized.

"Oh, Prince Dream?" It was Blue, the squire of the knight who'd been assigned to watch over Dream, "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting to find anyone else up so late, is there anything I can do to assist you?"

Blue was smiling. Dream could taste it. His confusion, which was quickly overtaken by a general joy.

The skeleton wasn't dressed down at all, despite presumably having been knelt in a horse's pen for some reason. His squires armor, largely padded and cloth, hung well on his frame, and part of Dream wished he could see more that just the Knight's arms and shoulders peeking over the stall door along with his skull.

"I- I wasn't expecting anyone to be up tonight either." He replied, dumbly, "I was- was just taking a stroll. Couldn't sleep."

It was a weak excuse. An excuse literally anyone could see through-

"Ah, I see!" Blue's voice cut off his thoughts before they could run away, "You know, you should really try the tea that my master drinks before bed. It always knocks him out, cold turkey!"

Dream was... bewildered.

Blue turned away from him for a moment, disappearing into the shadows of the stall, but his voice did not hesitate.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind sparing a bit for you, Prince Dream! After all, it's our job as knights and knights-to-be to care for our benefactors!"

Dream could hear a bit of movement behind his words, and a few moments later Blue returned to the front of the stall. He used one arm to support himself as he hopped over the small gate, the mare trailing in his wake to watch once again.

He seemed entirely unphased, carrying tools in his other hand, moving to a hanging leather bag hung on a nail in one of the support beams and dumping the items inside.

"If you like, I could escort you back inside and make you a cup?"

Blue was still speaking, with little hesitation.

Dream felt like the squires voice was rattling around in his skull. An overwhelming amount of sound for the quiet he'd just arrived from, and quite different from the sounds he'd been searching for.

Like the chirping of bugs, the sounds of rustling leaves, the pounding of a horse's hooves heavy on the ground as he made his daring escape from this place he did not know.

"Ah, Prince! It seems Marigold managed to get you a bit dirty, I apologize on her behalf!" Blue was a lot closer. "Please, allow me!"

A lot closer.

Dream flinched as he felt soft, worn gloves cup his palms from underneath.

His focus had been far off, elsewhere, but now he watched as the skeleton a bit shorter than him gently used a clean rag he must've grabbed to towel away the remnants of the horse's gunk left on his hands.

Blue was entirely focused on his task, and Dream felt entranced by the action. It felt like his non-existant gut was attempting to mimic a writhing snake.

When Blue finally seemed content, he hummed and grinned to himself.

Even through is thick gloves, Dream had been close enough. To taste it. There was not a single hint of malice lingering in this squires soul. He was so sweet. Unbearably so. He'd barely met any souls with such a pure slate of emotions laid bare.

"P-prince Dream?! Are you alright? I'm- I'm so sorry, did I grab your hands too hard?" Blue's voice once again dragged him back to reality.

A tinge of fear in the air, and the cold rapidly claiming his hands once again.

He looked away from his hands, now abandoned by the squire who'd been keeping them warm. He had backed up by a few paces, and had his head bowed, but Dream could still see his skull was tilted. An eyelight observing him.

Guilt.

Why...

Dream all at once pulled his hands up to his cheekbones. His freezing fingertips gently rimmed the bottom edge of his sockets, and all at once he understood.

He'd started crying. Like a weakling.

He knew this feeling all too well. The tears which used to come to him when Nightmare would be sent back to his own bed by their mother. When she found Night comforting him after a night terror. His aura was always so calming.

He hadn't had Night at all, lately. Maybe that was why he hadn't shed tears yet. Until tonight, of course.

"No- no. It's nothing you did." Dream hurried to say, though he hated his voice for warbling.

He tucked his hands tightly into his cloak, and took a single shaking breath.

And then stepped to the side, and sunk down against the stall gate of the mare named Marigold.

She didn't startle as the wood shifted under Dream's weight, and settled again against the tick hay coating the bottom of the stall.

In this moment, Dream didn't care how bad it smelled, or how dirty he was getting his perfect coronation cloak, or anything. He didn't care that his perfect white bones were digging into old, splintered wood, or that his cheekbones pressed to damp planks.

He didn't care about the squire who saw.

Dream knew he couldn't risk going back to the castle, sockets full of tears. Not like this. So he'd have to fry it out here and risk the squires rumor mill in the morning.

He sniffled as he let the cold sink into the thin silk cloth which covered his legs, closing his sockets miserably in the darkness.

He heard boot-steps, and sunk a bit lower into himself as they drew softly nearer.

Though, they stopped a short distance away, and the weight of the gate shifted again, as sonething denser leaned against it.

Marigold snorted in what Dream imagined was annoyance, and he heard her hooves disappear somewhere deeper into shadow.

.

It was silent as Dream let his tears flow. Shoulder dug into his cheek, folded in on himself like a sort of ragdoll. Sniffles were the only thing which broke that awkward quiet.

But this silence too, was deeply uncomfortable. It was as though his moments of peace were little more than ploys to administer more distress into his mind.

The moment he could no longer stand his self-imposed quiet, he shifted.

And squinted in the darkness.

And found that, just before him, was the side of that squire.

There, back pressed to the stall door, sat Blue. He wasn't looking at Dream. The prince noticed that in one hand he held hid signature weapon, that comically large Warhammer. His eyes seemed focused, skimming the stalls. Watching over Dream's form to the doors far from where he'd turned his back.

Was... was the squire watching over him?

Normally when he threw a tantrum like this, his sorrow would seep into the air around him. He was able to drive off all the servants and soldiers. Very few would linger. Struck by an intense misery.

"Squire Blue?" Dream's voice felt hoarse and wet, remnants of the emotion that had built up inside him.

The young man's eyelights darted to the side, to look at Dream as he was called.

This time he remained silent, his expression still focused.

Dream knew this was stupid, he- "Why did you stick around?" He asked. "It's your master's duty to babysit me, not yours."

It was true. Only the Knight had orders to watch over him. And Dream knew he didn't much like the job.

For that man, there was no honor in trailing a young monster like Dream. Even if he was the son of Nim, Dream was no longer a crown prince. He was exiled. An outcast.

The question seemed to linger in the air a moment, before Blue's browser furrowed.

"Well, I believe you are sad, and it must be a type of sadness which is very hard to fight away, as you are very strong." He spoke, though the chipper tone was something softer now. Encouraging? "So as you fought your battle, I wished to stay by your side and dissuade any enemies from the outside. I could not abandon you."

He said it as though Dream was really fighting something. Inside himself.

That wasn't it at all. He'd been running away from that thing biting at him. Clawing at his heels and clogging his throat. That made him want to run away and never come back.

"I-" Was he really going to do this? "I had a bad dream, Squire Blue."

He felt like a child, confessing to his nanny that he had broken a vase in the hall.

"My brother used to comfort me, from these terrors. But- but I cannot see him anymore. He-" He choked up again, "People are saying he was jealous of me, when he took the crown, but he wasn't. He was afraid. And he cast me out and exiled me to this place!"

If he weren't so focused on trying to contain his voice, he would've been impressed at how unmoving Blue's face remained, amongst the swarm of emotions breaking through Dream's thinly-kept barrier.

"He was afraid, and I am alone, and this I'd not how it should be! Someone, something, scared him into acting out and sending me away and- and here I am. Crying in a stable like a child due to a bad dream, hundreds of miles away from my twin!"

He threatened to curl in on himself again, but he stopped himself when he saw the way that Blue looked at him. Knowingly.

"You know, it is not nearly the same, but I too am separated from my brother." Blue spoke up. Though, he was smiling?

Dream hummed in confusion, tired from his confession.

"He's younger than me, stayed in our home village as part of the city guard. He's the coolest..." He sounded almost wistful, "When I chose to start my apprenticeship I was told I would have to move away, and live here." He lamented.

Dream hated to taste the bittersweet tang of melancholy wafting softly away from Blue.

"Don't... don't you miss him?" Dream muttered, "Don't you want to run away and be with him again?" That was what Dream would do.

Blue laughed gently, a charming little 'Mweh!' That warmed Dream's soul.

"Of course!" He admitted, "But, my brother was my biggest supporter, and if I don't become a knight, then my time away will have been for nothing."

A brother giving unwavering support. Like Nighty.

"It sounds like you treasure your brother, Prince Dream," Blue said, then, "Might I ask about what you think of him?"

Oh.

That's right.

Since he left, he'd only been piling negative atop negative about his brother, making an impossibly long list in his head.

"My brother..." Dream breathed, almost a whisper. "He was-" He stopped, "is the most devoted, kindest, gentlest soul I've ever known."

He couldn't help but think of when they were children. When they had first gotten their masks, and Nightmare had recieved the smooth, rounded owl face. He'd looked so adorable and kind, lavender eyelights wide with joy.

Dream remembered seeing the grin on his twin's face when he'd let Dream press the cold wood to his own face. No doubt it had been cuter on Nightmare.

"He's so smart... he loves reading, and his studies, and always knew how to help me when I'd make trouble in the castle."

The days when Dream was seven or eight, tripping around the halls at night, wet paint on his new shirt because he'd tripped and nudged a new mural his mother had commissioned. It had been wet.

Nightmare had found him and dragged him back to their room, where he'd pulled the shirt off of Dream and immediately set about cleaning it.

He said he'd watched their babysitter do it a hundred times and he'd learned. Dream had claimed the work was beneath them, but Nighty had shot back, asking if he'd rather be caught with stained clothes by the adults. That was the last thing he'd wanted, so he'd sat and watched Night scrub away at the stain in the tub with a few bottles of who knows what and water until it was practically brand-new. By morning it was dry, as though nothing had ever happened.

"And- and he always knew when I was sad. He'd come sit with me, and we'd hug and- and nothing came between us."

Until that day, of course.

That day when Dream was practicing his speech and Nightmare had rushed into the lounge to stand before him. Nightmare's skull had been sweaty, his eyelights pinpricks. He had a scroll clutched to his chest, and a hunch to his shoulders. He'd been afraid. Dream had tasted it like a sour lemon on his tongue, and had gone on high alert.

Only for Nightmare to start babbling to him. Stammering about the prophecy and a curse and some sort of discovery. A warning.

All that Dream had caught after asking him to slow down, was that Nightmare was begging him not to go through with his coronation ceremony. That he'd found a dire omen in the library about some sort of bloodshed. Some horrible price to pay.

Dream had tried to reassure him. That it was just a mean prank, that he and everyone else would be fine. Perfectly safe.

Nightmare had left the room dejected, practically in tears, and had rushed off. If Dream had known better, he would've gone and hammered it into his twin's skull that the prophecy was safe. That he didn't have to taint his own body to protect Dream from some make-believe threat.

Dream sighed a bit, and raised one hand to his face. He rubbed his palm along his sockets, swiping away magical residue from his tears.

He wasn't any less sad, but it felt less explosive.

"Your twin sounds very nice, Prince Dream. I do understand why you would like to see him again." Blue spoke softly.

His smile was boisterous again, and Dream couldn't help himself from allowing a gentle smile to worm onto his own expression.

"I cannot let you leave, that would not allow me to protect you, but if you wish to talk again, I am often an open ear!" He suggested, "You seem less sad after talking."

Hmm.

This might have been the first time in the history of his life, he realized, that he had someone his age really speak with him.

Blue was different from the noble children and the new guards and servants back home. It was something kind. Perhaps it was that he didn't truly understand just who Dream was. Who he was meant to be.

Maybe- maybe he'd like to keep it that way a bit longer.

"Trying to flee on horseback was a silly idea anyhow." He mused, "Would you be bothered if I still took your offer? For tea, that is?"

The joy that flooded through Blue was almost contagious, and he quickly popped up from where he'd been seated, letting his hammer shimmer away into the air beside him.

Then he turned to dream, and extended a gloved hand to him.

Dream took it after a moment, and he was swiftly tugged to his feet too, shaky as a newborn foal. Cold and damp and smelly.

But Blue didn't seem to notice, nor was he bothered. Not by the dirt that coated Dream's cloak or the smear of mud which had gotten onto his skull.

Blue escorted him back out to the grounds, and Dream saw my the moon that he'd hardly spent an hour in that stable. It was still plenty dark.

As the squire began to move towards the main path, Dream tugged his armor and guided him instead to the little servant door, and Drean was rewarded for his sneaky tactics with another 'Mweh!' of excitement.

Blue held the door, and Dream hurried into the kitchen. Then from there, Blue led them through servant corridors that Dream had never known existed. Blue was careful to check over his shoulder every few steps. Maybe he was worried about losing Dream in the twists and turns?

And then, as though hitting a brick wall, they found themselves in the private barracks of the knights of this realm. For a moment, Dream worried Blue might have to enter his master's room to snatched the tea, but...

There was a little alcove outside of one of the doors, carved into the wall.

'Personal effects' Blue had explained quietly, kept in the hall so servants might have easy access to each Knight's favorite drink or treat.

Dream watched curiously as the knight moved towards the space, and carefully extracted a few leaves from a little jar left outside.

"Will that be enough for two?" Dream muttered, perplexed. It seemed hardly enough for a mouse!

Blue glanced back to Dream in confusion, and the Prince realized he'd jumped the gun. Blue hadn't planned to have any tea, only brew it for Dream.

That... felt odd.

"Mm. Have you ever tried his tea, squire Blue?" He asked quietly instead.

Blue shook his head a bit, "No, I've never had the chance." He didn't seem bothered.

Dream only nodded, and the two hurried away. Out of the knight's wing, back through the servant halls, and into the kitchen where Dream had snuck out through the little door.

There, Blue closed the door to the hall, and after a moment, seemed content to begin moving all sorts of pots and pans to find a kettle.

Dream hadn't ever lingered in a kitchen very long. His babysitter only brought them inside once or twice, always upon Nightmare's request. The kitchen here was much smaller than his own, and was infinitely more cluttered. The organization, or lack there-of, made his hands itch.

It only took a few moments before he lifted himself up to sit atop one if the counters, away from where Blue seemed to be preparing the tea.

He moved with practice around this spot, it'd taken hardly any time at all for him to dig out the worn kettle, and it'd been tucked behind little bottles and containers of who knows what.

He seemed to work the stove just fine as well, the little flames dancing along with the little light their magic provoded to them.

Only when the kettle was set did Blue seem to glance around and spot Dream once again.

He moved a bit closer, leaning against the counter a bit.

"Prince Dream, may I ask a question?" He voiced.

Dream nodded curiously.

"Do you ever do sparring?" Blue asked, then.

That was... not what Dream had expected to be asked of him. He'd had people ask him many things, but never of that.

"I... used to." He said softly.

It was ever so slight, a raise in Blue's shoulders, some sort of little happiness sparking through him.

"I've seen you, stopping by when the knights train! What weapons do you use?" Blue asked then.

Dream suddenly had to find himself smothering the flush which threatened to flood his cheekbones. Yes, he did miss sparring, but often when he was frustrated he would pass by. To get a glimpse at the Knights in their armor, so swift and powerful.

"A bow." He said, maybe a bit too hastily. "I mean... I was formally trained in swordplay, staffs, and spears, but Archery has always come easiest to me."

He was so absorbed in his thought that he almost missed the way Blue's eyelights grew bigger. Almost.

Dream allowed a smirk to cross his face, and he held his hands out before him.

His little, pearly white, hands trembled. The joints glowed a soft golden color, and it all drew out, to his fingertips. After a moment, the glow condensed, and swirled, and tightly wove into a longbow.

The bow itself was a pale white, but much like his castle, it appeared to be made of old, twisting vines and branches.

"Where is the string?" Blue's curious tone asked, and Dream was only a bit startled to find the squire so close to him now, examining the weapon.

"It's only tangible in use with my magic." Dream explained softly.

Running a hand along the space, his finger caught, and a ripple of yellow glow moved down a thick, invisible string.

Impulsively, Dream imagined, Blue stuck his gloved hand right into the space beneath where Dream had just touched. There was nothing for him to grasp.

"Wowie... that's an impressive weapon, Prince Dream! You are very skilled, that must've taken ages to craft!" Blue said, pulling his hand back as though nothing had happened.

Dream stared at it a moment, but caught himself before claiming it was an easy feat.

He'd made the bow itself no problem, but the string... they could never withhold the power of his magic. They would snap and send him reeling.

Once, a broken string had swung back and cracked against his chin. He'd bled, and all of the guard had panicked about his wellbeing. He'd been young still, and had been so startled he thought they were yelling at him. Not about him.

After that, mother had insisted he learn to channel his magic precisely. Learn to use it with an easy perfection.

"Yes, it took me some time to perfect." Dream agreed solemnly.

It seemed Blue was going to say something else, but there was a loud whistle from the stove, and the squire jolted and hurried back to tend to it.

Dream watched from afar, letting his bow disappear once more, as Blue seemed to ready a singular teacup.

Once it was finished, he carried both it, and the saucer, very carefully over to Dream's countertop perch. He offered it up to the prince, with a gentle warning of, 'hot'.

Dream took it carefully, and held it under his face. The warmth rising from it was comforting, and the smell was nice. Unfamiliar. And for once he enjoyed it.

Dream blew on the surface of the tea, making it ripple like some dark ocean, before he impatiently brought it to hid mouth.

It was hot, as Blue had warned, but not scalding. He held it in his jaw for a moment, lingering on the taste, before swallowing it down.

He took another sip. Then hummed.

"Squire Blue, will you take a sip of this? Tell me what you think?" He then offered the cup to Blue.

The squire seemed startled, but only for a moment before nodding in determination. He gently took the teacup from Dream, and tipped it so he too could take a sip.

Dream watched his face, and aa the heat subsided, Blue's expression scrunched. He seemed like he was trying to decide whether to spit it out or drink it.

The prince couldn't contain his laughter as it seemed Blue resigned himself to swallowing it. He held the cup back out to Dream in some sort of defeat.

"It's gross, isn't it?" Dream asked through his little fit of giggles. He cupped the tea back into his own hand, and watched as Blue seemed to try and outlast the awful taste surely lingering in his mouth.

"Y-yes, it is! I have never tasted something like that before, I apologize, Prince Dream." He said almost despairing.

Dream just shook his head, "No fault of yours! This appears to be some sort of black tea. Magical, probably." Dream explained, almost fond of the horrible cup of tea.

This was probably the first time he'd found such a thing funny.

If anything, his obvious joy at the situation seemed to let Blue relax a bit again.

Both of them had now experienced the horribly bitter taste of a Knight's favorite coffee, and now they were both complicit in deciding that it was nasty.

Dream let himself giggle again, and brought the cup back up to his mouth.

Almost like a shot, Dream downed the remainder of the liquid. Though it made him shudder a bit under its bitter flavor, the warmth did well to bring a heat to his ribs he hadn't had all night.

When he set the cup and saucer beside himself, he found Blue staring at him, as though he had something on his face.

(He did, it was mud, but Blue was not looking at it.)

"Prince, if it tastes bad, why would you finish it?" Blue asked in confusion.

Dream just shrugged a bit, "I think of the tea as a gift. Even if I do not enjoy it, it means something special to someone else, so it would be rude to waste it." He said simply.

Blue seemed to linger on that for a moment, before seeming to double-down on his concentrated expression. Then, all at once, he grinned.

"I know that you are a Prince, but I think that you would also make a very noble knight!" Blue asserted, before he scooped up the cup and set it aside on the counter.

He seemed to debate the sink, before noticing the piles of other dishes and simply sighed softly.

Dream popped away from the counter, landing on his feet with a tired yawn. His hand raised to cover the action, but Blue caught sight of it and burst into action, moving to Dream's side at an alarming efficiency.

"Prince Dream, if you are tired, then allow me to escort you back to your room!" He insisted.

Dream couldn't help but agree.

As they walked, a part of him wished that he could beg Blue to talk with him until the sunrise, and then stay up all over again the next night. He hadn't felt so comfortable in ages.

But, they had their places.

When the sun rose, Dream would have to be a proper prince again. Take a bath, send his robes to be cleaned, speak with the nobles here, try drafting another letter back home, and rot in the foreign place.

And Blue would have to go back to toting around that knight's swords and armor polish and make him that sickeningly bitter tea on command.

Dream wondered if Blue was even getting any real training, or if he was a glorified servant. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the young man use his war hammer during training.

Though, all of these thoughts would have to wait.

The bland door to his room arrived, and Blue bowed and bid him farewell.

Dream entered the dark space for the second time that night, slipped off his sandals, and collapsed cloak and all onto his bed. Too exhausted to be afraid of dancing shadows.

[somegrumpynerd]

I'm eating your art

It tastes like marshmallows and sweet /vpos

Eeeee thank you!! That's so sweet oh my god <3 I hope it tastes good and you don't make yourself sick!!

[imminent-danger-came]

Hi there! So, I don't know if you’re in the mood to have your brain chemistry altered by the silly little lego show once more, or if you’ve just already done this, but I have a suggestion. Try watching the S4 special (specifically A Lifetime of Mistakes) for the millionth time, and then take that knowledge, along with the Wukong-Macaque/MK-Mei Hero and Warrior parallels we’ve been getting, and THEN go rewatch S1E6 AKA The Great Wall Race. Specifically through that particular lens.  

And just… enjoy watching the decisions they, especially MK, make during a situation where an immortality-granting object is on the line. Have no major thoughts about how this is the first real fight we see Mei and MK have. Experience absolutely zero strong emotions as you watch MK’s pursuit of that object lead to him destroying things that both of them love. Just… have a lovely, peaceful rewatch. 

But seriously, if you’re in the mood to let the silly little monkey show do its silly little monkey show thing, try rewatching that episode because it legitimately ruined my night. 

Like… it’s not a perfect, one-to-one comparison. There’s a lot of differences, both nuanced and obvious, that differentiate the two situations. 

But there’s something there and it’s been driving me insane, so feel free to come join me on the precipice of madness if you want.

*GRABS YOU*

I HAVE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THIS FOR DAYS. ANON, YOU GET ME IN A WAY THAT NO ONE ELSE DOES, WE ARE TOGETHER IN ARMS.

But anyways *puts on sunglasses* I always have zero emotions when it comes to the lego show. Me? Completely calm and collected. I totally didn't have a breakdown while rewatching 1x06 to write this post.

But, just to meander on by the precipice of madness...

Mei: "*gasp* My bike! What is wrong with you! I thought you were my friend!" MK: "Okay! I did bad! I just- I really wanted that peach and I guess I got carried away! You know how much I love stone fruit. *sigh* I was never gonna win though—you're the racer, not me. I'm sorry." Mei: "Yeah I know—just, don't be dumb next time, okay?" MK: "All I can do is try!"

(1x06 The Great Wall Race)

-

Even without the added context of s4, it's easy to put together that the whole reason MK wants the peach to begin with is to become more like Monkey King. Case in point, 1x09:

MK: "I just wanted to be good enough..."

"...like you."

(1x09 Macaque)

-

MK in seasons 1-2 is pushed by his motivation to live up to Monkey King's legacy—to become stronger. He wants to have the power to protect and help his friends, but this often causes more trouble than it fixes (1x01, 1x02, 1x06, 1x09, 2x03, 2x06, 2x10).

And so, MK reaching for immortality and wanting to be "good enough", instead harming the relationships he's trying to help?

Macaque: "No that's YOU! You're the one always running off! Looking for more power, more sources of immortality—you're the one who wouldn't quit while were were ahead! Not the great sage, he's got to drag EVERYONE else into his mess!"

-

MK: "Why didn't he just stop, right here? He was already so much stronger than anyone ever needed to be!" Macaque: "Wukong didn't think so. He always felt he had to be stronger—more immortal."

-

Sun Wukong: "I just wanted to protect the people I cared about—to be strong enough. I lost sight of why I was doing any of it."

-

It's like history is repeating itself.

Which, this all obviously has a strong connection to 1x06, but it also is a strong connection to 2x06:

MK: "It means I need to be stronger! Be so powerful, that it'd be certain defeat to fight me!" Sandy: "Maybe you need a break little man, just kick back for a bit." MK: "Uh, did Monkey King ever take breaks?"

(2x06 Game On)

-

Which,

Sun Wukong: "Daw, don't be like that! Eat some fruit, soak up the sun—that's why I've been training so hard! Macaque: "What, so you can be the strongest?" Sun Wukong: "No! Well...maybe a little bit—but that's not the point! It's so that we don't have to worry about anything or anyone ever again! Just live a lazy life sittin' in the sun and eatin' fruit, and doing whatever we want!"

(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

-

Did Monkey King ever take breaks?—well, he did. It's here we start to see both the similarities and the differences between SWK and MK. AND IT DRIVES ME INSANE. They both reach after power in paranoia. They both try to protect the people they care about (and sometimes they do that through lying/leaving). They both want things to stay the same. Yet, SWK is arrogant where MK is self conscious. SWK goes off alone where MK tries to do it together. SWK can't plan for shit where MK is the designated plan man.

Sun Wukong VS MK and Monkey King VS Monkey Kid. How are they similar and how are they different?

And then if you throw Wukong-Macaque/MK-Mei Hero and Warrior parallels into all of it?

Peng: "The six-eared Macaque fighting side by side with his own replacements! Is there anything Wukong could do that would break his hold over you?" (4x13 Rip and Tear)

Is there anything MK could do that would turn Mei against him? I feel that it's SO telling that Mei wasn't included in this conversation:

Yellow Tusk: "I know full well what would happen should Azure fail. But- but he is my brother. I owe him my life." Sandy: "We get it! I'd do anything to help my friends. But at the cost of the world?" Pigsy: "I'm sorry pal, but NOTHING worth that price!"

(4x14 Better Than We Found It)

-

And here's why Mei is going to be the one to calm MK down like MK calmed her down during 3x10—

[sarastuss-a]

here to quickly remind you i adore all of you, it is such a joy to read the replies you write to me, but also your individual stuff!! like the headcanons / studies you write for your characters, i am in awe of them all! ✨

[m0thisonfire]

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Devanii deals and has dealt with many things in his life. And sometimes he prefers getting drunk in his nightclub to relax and forget about the waiting tragedies on Earth's doorstep. The last thing he expects is his 'lover' to show up in his office one night with a request. Devanii does not appreciate this request.

Angst. Lots of sad lore. Cursing, lovers to enemies but still lovers, love being intertwined with war. Trauma. Lots of trauma mentioned.

The Dimonique was a safe place for dragons, magic users, and normal humans alike. Supposed to be, anyway. The huge, futuristic downtown building in Tokyo was extravagant and large for a nightclub, with multiple bars in multiple themed and neon lit rooms. The suites it had on topmost floors were lavish and designed for comfort. The staff were decent, it was ensured the guests, at least the human ones, were safe, and the liquor and food were always stocked. It was Devanii's pride and joy, the one place in the universe he could retreat to and allow himself a night of peace to wallow.

His office and penthouse, located on the top floor, were where he hid away when he wasn't being pulled away to deal with Outbreaks or hunt down ancient artifacts to fight the Hive. Or deal with the Citadel.

This thought made Devanii scowl as he drank his beverage, the burning liquor soothing him as a distraction from his tempered thoughts as he reclined back in his office chair. His long finned tail flicked from side to side, scratching over the black carpet as it slid across it. If his old caretakers saw him now, they'd have an aneurysm. He could hear them now, even after thousands of years.

'No claws on the table!'

'Sit up straight! How unbecoming for an Heir!'

'Such shameful behavior! Your Bane and Bormah would be appalled!'

A grunt escaped the violet dragon as he squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the old manners that were beaten into his head as a whelp and focusing on the steady thrum of music beating through the building. Electronic music, dubstep, Nightcore, sometimes. That was rare, and only because Connie would beg him to play it when she visited -He wondered where the human kid was now. Probably at home or in school- Currently a more relaxing electronic beat was playing, making him hum. Soothing, slow, tickled the brain right.

He eased more into his buzz as he listened, humming along as he relaxed. However, his relaxation was interrupted by his radio on his desk, one of his bouncers tuning in and asking almost hesitantly: "Eh, boss?"

Devanii rolled his eyes hard, moving his head with it as he pulled his feet off the desk and scooted closer, prepared for some new nonsense as he pressed a button and asked politely, if not impatiently, "Yes, what is it?"

"There's a guy here who wants to speak to you. He isn't very happy."

The dragon narrowed his eyes, curling his lip as he made an agitated gesture, despite knowing the bouncer couldn't see it, "A guy. What does that mean, a guy? Just some guy? What, they expect to see me, despite me being the owner of-"

The radio clicked for a moment, the sound of a struggle causing Devanii's ears to flick in surprise as he leaned back, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes widened. Then his ears dropped as he gulped, hearing a familiar voice seethe through the radio feedback: "Devanii Hellfrost, let me up, or I swear to The Eight I am going to force my way up. And it is going to be very bloody."

Fuck, shit, balls and cock.

Devanii blinked and smiled nervously, forcing his tone to a cheerier one as he attempted to hide his nerves, "Sybil! Love! How unexpected! Why didn't you call? I would have made an appointment-"

"I literally do not have the time for your shit right now, Hellfrost. Let me up."

The dragon's expression fell as he made a sound between a groan and a sigh, managing through a voice crack as he massaged his temple, "Yeah. Yeah, come on up."

Shit.

What in Akatosh's name was Sybil doing so far from the Citadel? That was all the way in the Andromida...

Devanii groaned as he poured himself another drink. Rather, he refilled the glass and thought better of it, pushing it back to the other end where he knew Sybil could reach before taking a swig out of the bottle itself.

He stood, glancing around his dark office to make sure it was at least neat. It was dim, the only light illuminating it being the neon violet and light blue lights he had hand-picked to reflect his color scheme. The walls were black, the carpet was black and thankfully clean as usual, his black desk doubled as a high end computer system, and the huge window behind him made for a lovely Tokyo backdrop. He sighed, examining the dark leather couch one side and the built in bar in the other, deeming both acceptable before the elevator dinged.

Forcing a charming grin onto his face, Devanii casually leaned on his desk, cranking his smolder expression onto the highest setting as he greeted, "'Ello again, Sybil. How can I-"

He shut himself up seeing the doors open to reveal the High Elf standing in with his arms crossed and a pissed expression on his face. Then again, when didn't High Elves look pissed. The elf strode forward, and it took all of the dragon's willpower not to retreat at his approach.

Sybil stopped at the desk and put his arms at his sides, clenching his fists as he glared daggers at Devanii. The larger male took the opportunity to give a quick look over of the elf's appearance, if only to ensure he didn't massacre any staff on the lower floors.

Same black light armor, same emblem and sleek design, no blood, thank the Eight. Sybil looked as he usually did, his long blonde hair pushed back as usual and meticulously neat. He had the same light gold skin, and those gorgeous green eyes that still managed to make Devanii's heart skip a beat despite the murderous glare-

"... If you're done staring at me, we need to talk."

And there it was. Devanii's soul promptly left his body for a split second before returning, the dragon asking curiously despite the sudden tightness in his chest, "Of course, darling. What happened? I doubt you stopped by from Andromida for a simple visit."

Devanii hated how true that actually was. For a moment, an uncomfortable expression passed over Sybil's glowering features. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making Devanii internally sigh. Okay, yeah, so something was definitely wrong if Sybil was visibly nervous. Great.

"... It's the Hive. Xin."

The tight feeling grew stronger, Devanii's tail now nervously twitching as he asked tensely, "Yeees? What about them?"

Taking a deep breath, Sybil took the filled glass of whiskey and took a drink -Devanii stomped down the smug feeling of 'Called it'-, and began with a much more hesitant and nervous tone than his confident scathing one, "... The... Counsel has come to a decision. They're willing to remove your bounty if you renounce your old title and return to our ranks and fight for us again."

Silence filled the office. Devanii stared at Sybil for a good long moment. Renounce his old title? Did he mean the title Devanii had held onto with both wings and claws through thousands of years with all his might? The only thing he had left of Esteria and Nirn? His, their homeworlds? His blood status, his birthright?

"... You want me," Devanii started slowly, in a dangerously soft tone, "To renounce my position as King of Dragons. So I can keep the people, who outlawed me and hunted me down for thousands of years, safe from the creatures and deity that had tortured me in Oblivion. For thousands of years. Not to mention the fact your fleet has been trying and failing to harvest this solar system's sun the last year and a half."

At least Sybil had the decency to look ashamed. He stared down in shame, his ears drooping as he sighed and began, "Devanii-"

"Get out."

Saying the words felt like tearing out his own heart. He loved Sybil more than life itself. He was his everything, one of his very purposes for existence. But this was not the night. Not with Devanii half-buzzed and already irritated from protecting Earth. From the Citadel. From Xin. From the Hive. From Sybil himself. Not tonight. Not ever.

The High Elf sighed and took the glass to take another gulp, nearly draining it before he set it down and sat in the chair beside him. He laced his fingers together and rested his head on them, leaning on the desk looking like he was carrying the weight of the world. So to speak, he technically was.

Devanii wanted to be angry. He really did. How fucking dare he?

No, how fucking dare the Citadel?

They knew Devanii would never hurt Sybil. If it had been any other commander, they would have already be a burnt ice statue that Devanii would have been preparing to send back to the Counsel as a 'Fuck you' gift.

But not Sybil. Gods, please, anyone but Sybil.

Devanii sighed and collapsed back in his own chair, leaning back to glare at the ceiling. Fucking perfect. Great.

The dragon made a pained sound, covering his face as he increased the volume, drawing out a long angry groan before he growled, whined rather, "Why do you do this to me, Sybil? Why? Why can never be a simple fucking visit with you?"

Sybil pulled back to slam his fist against the table, snarling with tears in his eyes, "You don't think I hate this as well!? How horrible I feel about asking this of you!? You know I can't-"

"But you could." Devanii calmly refuted, lowering his hands slowly as he sighed. His voice didn't reflect his rage, his disappointment, his sorrow. "You could and you know it."

Sybil glowered at the violet dragon, growling out through grit teeth, "But the Emperor-"

"Fuck your Emperor." Devanii interrupted, annoyed and tired, "Fuck your Counsel. Fuck your Citadel. Fuck that fucked up society that harvests suns and turns them into batteries because that damn mega system isn't self sufficient. I said I was done with it. So I'm done."

They glared at each other for a long moment, neither backing down. Then Sybil dropped his head, sighing in defeat, "... Well, I tried. Told them it was a waste of time."

The elf looked up to see the dragon staring at him disappointed, his expression one of pure contempt as he smoothly acknowledged, "Good to know you at least knew I would never agree."

"Of course." Sybil responded, sitting up a bit more, "I know you."

Sighing, Devanii pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he agreed, "Yes. Yes, you do know me."

Gods, what happened to us?

The thought twisted Devanii's insides up in knots. Because he knew the answer.

Their homeworlds were overrun by Xin and the Hive before either of them could fulfill their roles. The Citadel picked Sybil up while Devanii was literally dragged to Hell. Sybil rose through the ranks and became the Emperor's favorite. When Devanii escaped Oblivion, he had been vouched for by the elf. And the dragon had been too ecstatic seeing his lover alive after years of uncertainty and suffering, going along with system wide blackouts until the initial relief wore off. Then he defected. And Sybil did not. He knew what happened.

Sybil had a taste of uncontested power after losing the one purpose he had been born for, fighting for. And Devanii...

Well, he went and made his own purpose.

He growled, covering his face again as they sat in silence.

Another long sigh broke the suffocating quite as Devanii managed quietly, "I take it you're leaving soon?"

"My ship is lingering in the atmosphere," Sybil answered in a soft voice, "They're waiting, but we're in no rush. Doubt they're going to be looking forward to going back without you on board..."

Yeah, the Citadel was definitely going to be pissed Devanii refused them again...

Frowning, he nodded, taking the bottle on the desk and refilling Sybil's glass. The high elf didn't say anything else, nodding in thanks as he sipped the burning liquid, Devanii taking a drink himself as they sat together.

Then, quietly, "... You and your crew are... Welcome to stay. For as long as you need before you're called back."

Sybil glanced up in surprise. But nodded again, already less tense. Not relaxed, but definitely not on edge anymore. Tired, Devanii acknowledged with a pain in his chest. Tch. Fucking sadistic Emperor and his brainwashing bullshit...

Devanii watched Sybil stand, groaning softly as he did as he decided, "I'm... Going to let the fleet know. Let them decide to come down on their own."

The dragon nodded, watching his mate leave with a growing emptiness in his chest. Every time, it was the same. And he hated it.

But Sybil stopped at the elevator, his hand hovering over the button before he turned and shot a look over his shoulder. Devanii knew that look. It didn't mean he wasted any time standing immediately and rounding the desk to close the distance. He could see the relief in Sybil's posture, felt it as he embraced him up and held him close, his tail curling around him protectively. Despite everything, Devanii still loved this fool. Had for thousands of years. Would until the eventual heat death of the universe.

This will end, eventually, he silently promised. Eventually, they could simply be again without any expectations, any obstacles or threats.

He had to believe that.

He did believe it. Wanted to.

Letting Sybil pull away to cradle his face and pull him down for a desperate kiss, Devanii closed his eyes, and promised countless promises. Vengeance for them, for Sybil, for their worlds, for the lost.

For the moment, all that mattered was the night and the man in his arms.

[merakiui]

Congrats on escaping the academia void!!! I escaped mine a few days ago and have a few weeks before going back in for my thesis 🙃 i too just want to write fanfiction and not academic papers. I'm manifesting you the most success and best of vibes for your void!! 🙏🙏🙏

Thank you!!!! (๑>ᴗ<๑) congratulations to you as well!!! Let us both enjoy the time to rest and recuperate after being in the academia void for so long. orz writing fanfic will always be infinitely more fun than any academic paper, no matter how interesting the topic may be. Good luck on your thesis!!! Sending you the best, most happiest vibes and wishing for your success!!!!!!!

[theraphos]

Tonight I have crossed the streams, faced God, and walked backwards into hell. Or, you know, picked up one of my oldest game obsessions which is the acknowledged direct creative and cultural ancestor of my recurring newer game obsession: I'M PLAYIN' PLANESCAPE TORMENT AGAIN BAYBEE!! For the first time in...it's been a while, really, but I fangirled for PS:T obsessively for years and years and I'm about to make that everyone else's problem once again. :3 I expect I'll be posting crossover meta at some point, because Primordia being a love letter to Planescape has never been a secret and I'm already rediscovering things that have me hooting like a delighted ape.

[inertia-writes]

dehradun days

you meet them for the first time,

knowing it's probably the last.

might as well make the most of this time,

since life comes at you fast.

you find the strangest of signals

in the no-network zones.

cross-tent communication with folks,

just rambling about the unknown.

there's the warmth of shared laughter,

that carries you through freezing nights,

and you look up at the flickering stars,

to finally see things in a different light.

and at 11,000 ft above sea level

you finally reach the peak,

just to realise the joy was in the journey,

and the friends you made that week.

you'll visit caves & splendid cafes,

and remember the city in mere parts,

but years later, you'll still tell everyone,

how dehradun captured your heart.

[wren-of-the-woods]

Oh no! The stranger in front of you dropped their keys. ✨🔑 There's quite a few of them and they're all labeled, but... surely that can't be right? One says "Happiness", one says "Fortune", another one is labeled as "Soulmate" and yet another one says "Strength".

When you pick them up to give them back they feel warm and welcoming, almost magical... Then you notice that the stranger is quickly walking away from you! 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♂️

Are you running after them? Keep the keys for yourself or are you giving them awayto someone in the @ ? 😳 There's a lot of things one could do with such a magical object...

I stare at the keys for a long moment, surprised. At first I assume they're a particularly elaborate piece of cosplay, but the more I turn them over, the more I am convinced that the strange, tingling warmth could not be produced by technology. The strength key is strangely heavy, while happiness seems to glow with something that is not quite light and not quite warmth. I can almost swear that soulmate has near-invisible lines emerging from it and weaving off into the distance.

By the time I look up again from the keys, the stranger is almost gone. I stand there for a moment, torn. It's been a long day and I had been hoping not to talk to anyone before I got home, but I've read enough fairy tales to know that simply taking something like this would be a bad idea. And I have a feeling it wouldn't be great to just leave them in the lost and found.

Just before the stranger goes out of sight, I start after them. I'm slowly gaining at them, but the distance between us is still large. If they notice that I'm following them or I catch up to them, I'll give them back their keys, and hope to have the chance to ask about them. But if I can't catch up and they don't notice... I certainly wouldn't say no to the chance to see what they where they were going to go with these keys.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

sorry to message but i just wanted to yell because I saw a post and yOU’RE THE AUTHOR OF FALLOUT FROM THE FADE ???? oh my goodness it’s my favourite fic ive read it SO many times.

i left a comment on ao3 last night because i finished reading it again and i just genuinely hope one day you finish it (i understand you have much going on i am just greedy).

but yes thank you so much for creating it, fenris and hawke are everything to me and this fic is my canon no matter what happens in veilguard. 💜

hahaha HELLO yes that is indeed I... I guess i do owe a little bit of an explanation here since its been uh... like 4 years since I last updated, yeah :| But it still makes me so happy that even after so long people still enjoy my little pile of suffering and yearning!

I don't know how many people who used to follow it are still on tumblr (I think a lot of people i used to write with/who would comment have deleted their tumblrs and AO3 accounts in the intervening years alas) but i do I owe anyone remaining a little context I guess lol. Long story made short is like very shortly after my last update i got broken up with unexpectedly from my 4 year relationship, and went into a bit of a spiral about it. I didn't fully stop writing at this point (though I think nothing I wrote in that like... year or more ended up posted anywhere), but I did realize that when I went to work on my ongoing stuff I was in a place where I was like... only wanting to write about anger/losing relationships rather than healing ones. And that part of me wanted to change some of the things I had planned for the following parts and ending of Fallout From the Fade. And so I decided to take a step back from it for a while to see if I actually wanted to make those changes when I was less bitter or if I wanted to follow my original plan.

And that took me about a year, emotionally. However by then I had actually left my prior job (where I spent a lot of time hiking/camping in the wilderness of Utah with no internet, and I used that time for writing), and started graduate school courses. Aaaannnd grad school has been slowly eating my life since. I've only posted I think one other fanfic since then, and it was a very short prose-poem one shot. Another contributing factor was my gaming tech was too old to actually play Trespasser when it came out, and by the time I got a laptop that could handle it, I had to replay the whole game but I was working full time, etc... and i felt really disconnected from the DA fandom since I couldn't read all the new fic/understand all the lore deep dive posts/experience it with everyone else simultaneously. Oh yeah and I work a second job as a professional mermaid in varying degrees of intensity depending on the season/oportunties available haha.

All that being said. I actually have written more of FFtF in the last 2 years. But like I said in the other post I made kinda recently, the long gaps between my later updates (vs the ones I was doing way more regularly in 2016-2018) had me rethink the approach I was using to write and post it, which was a chapter at a time. It felt like stringing people along in kind of a mean way to dump a chapter and then vanish for another year, and I knew I couldn't promise consistency while doing a masters/PhD program. So I've been kind of fiddling away at it slowly still, both actual writing of following chapters, and some substantial firming up/drafting sections in my outline to get to the eventual ending and ensure it's more cohesive than a lot of my slapdash chapters. But! Idk! I do also def work slower without the fun of having an audience, and miss that. and I never actually asked of the people who are left and still wanna read more of it, if they'd rather just get a chapter every 6 months or so as I scrounge it out. If you are one of those people and have an opinion def let me know.

I will say, the imminent presence of Veilguard does have me more inspired and creative again, and some of that has been going to Fallout. Especially since I'm no longer watching the videos/gameplay bioware is putting out since they have SOOO many spoilers and I wanna go into the game at least semi blind, so my creative energy has to go towards my personal stuff rather than joining everyone else in speculation and hype now. I'm definitely not promising I will have it close to finished by October when Veilguard releases, because I'm still in grad school and the next months are busy for me in terms of mermaid work too, but I am hoping I can make some good chunks of progress between now and then. But then if I say that and can't follow through after all I also don't wanna let people down.

Anyway yeah, it's sort of a lot of conflicting thoughts. But I'm still rotating Hawke and Fenris and this fic in my mind even these years later... which for me is honestly pretty normal. I mean I have whole original novels/worldbuilding ideas/etc that I've worked on for 10-15 years in my own time haha, I've been writing fiction for fun since I was like 10, so I think I also just think of stories/writing across a bigger timeline than people who start writing with fanfiction (which is MUCH faster paced) than original fiction. The difference of course is no one sees my original stuff so there's no one to care if i take 2 years between chunks of progress. SO I guess what I am trying to say is, yes definitely it is not abandoned, I am plodding away at it bit by bit, I also hope I can finish it one day!!!! that is within this decade i hope! whether or not anyone else is left to read it but me haha

[inkykeiji]

i’m doing an after effects advanced motion graphics course for work but i ????? already know 90% of this stuff so i’m kinda boreddd /ᐠ ˵> ˕ <˵マ

[ammyandissunbesties4lyfe]

YOU TWO KEEP ME GOING.....YOU KNOW WHO TF YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!