#Rhayn Writes

[rjalker]

new OC that I'm actually writing about is named Rhayn because I want noun names but also want the characters to be able to be googled without fucking up the google results or getting completely wrong results.

[name-centrum]

Name of the day...

Rain ˎˊ˗

🌧️. 🌧️. 🌧️.

Origin: British, English

Meaning: Rain; "Abundance from above," or, "abundant blessing from above"; Queen; "Born during rain"

Notes: Rain is a purely neutral name.

"Some people might associate the title with a drizzly and dreary day, but Rain also sports an air of coolness and rejuvenation." (Source)

"The old adage “April showers bring May flowers” is true! Crops and flowers need rain to grow. Rain is nourishing, vital, and soothing." (Source)

Alternative spellings of this name are Raine, Raina, Rayne, Rhayn, Reine, Reign or Rainn.

Nick-names: Ray, Rayray, Raindrop, Rainbow, Rainie

Popularity:

[bohemian-nights]

We need Matt & Milly energy with Daemon and Nettles!

Love you anon, but….

I'm going to have to rebuke this energy. I was not impressed by Matt and Milly either(they just had dive bar hookup chemistry to me which is nothing to write home about) and I don't want Dettles to be anything like Dumbnyra in any way shape or form.

I want to see actual genuine love and not just a quick f*ck(or an almost f*ck in a sex dungeon) because of hormones (or grooming).

Lest I be accused of being a hater by some angry Dumbnyra stan, let me just say that between GOT and HOTD no on-screen ship/couple/hookup has wowed me. At best it was okay and at worst it was a pile of flavorless chicken or rape.

I'm really hoping this changes with Dettles and Alysmond (and my crackship that needs to set sail Rhayne, Ryan you can do this 👏🏽), but so far 😬

I will tell you though what energy we do need for Daemon and Nettles:

Olitz will always be the GOAT of TV ships 😭

This is probably setting the bar too high, but I’ll settle for Notebook-level chemistry:

[neopronouns-in-action]

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All of the short stories written by me are public domain! Please feel free to use them as writing prompts! Fuck capitalism! Have fun!

The list of all neopronouns used so far, (143)

Neopronoun short stories written so far, in chronological order:

ze/hir (The Mirrored Dream)

ve/vir (A Different Perspective)

card/cards (Werewolves)

it/its (The Interworld Growing Club)

ae/aer (Reclamation)

lu/luna (I Fucking Hate Athiktomisics)

de/dim (Creature of Kindness)

zey/zem, X/Xself, and ne/rix (The Chain of Command)

sy/rup (Inconvenience)

mae/mer (Thunderstorm in the Apocalypse) +

te/ter (The First Decision)

ith/kir (Rueful Snowstorm)

kit/kitten (Isn't That Confusing? Not Really)

ivy/ivys (Dream Call)

cy/cyb (Indispensable)

aix/arix (Birdwatching, Plantwatching)

deq/dir (Convenient Distractions from Awkward Conversations)

ae/ryn (Vacations and Kidnappings)

ze/zem (Preparations for Change)

ni/nir (The Voyage to Arcturus part 1)

izi/av (Alterhuman Advancements: November 2122)

ky/shal (Tutorial Sword)

shey/shem (The Wild Dragon)

an/droid (The Universe Likes You)

che/chim, xi/xir, thi/hil (Race to the Top)

xe/xim, ze/zim, li/lia (The Great Machine)

neo/neos (Crash Landing on Earth)

ne/rix (You Learn Something New Everyday)

heart/hearts ("Blurry Shape at Corner of Eye")

clo/loc, ri/riv (Boundaries are Made to be Respected, a short, touch-averse Horror story)

vey/vem (Alterhuman Advancements: December 2122)

su/uvu (Real Heroes Kill Cops)

xiy/rik (Customer Service)

hea/ler (Executive Execution)

fe/ir (A Friendly Encounter in the Woods)

they/them (Into Thin Air)

ve/vei (Don't Stop to Pay)

ivo/na (Kill the Hand That Threatens You)

sie/sir (You Are What Eats You)

meh/uto (Interspecies Solidarity)

an/dro (Opportunistic Hunting)

xe/xir (Character Creation)

li/lia (When in Doubt, Leave Gifts)

fae/faer (Mutiny or Malfunction)

rhe/rhek (Viva La Revolution)

hero/heros (046)

ama/ranth, ki/kir, fir/nix (The Perfect Creation)

mie/mym, vi/vir (The First Sign)

nae/nym (An Inconvenient Haunting)

ghoul/ghouls (A Wasted chance)

051: de/ad (Neither Nor) 052: ser/sera (The New Bridge) 053: pearl/pearls (The Cycle of Lives) 054: qua/tre (Emigrare) 055: joker/jokers (Universal Translator Mistranslation) 056: cat/cats (Thrown for a Loop) 057: hy/hym (Back to a New Beginning) 058: ay/li (The Proper Reaction) 059: bek/birk, vel/virl, (Raining Birds and Foxes) 060: ze/zer (Perfectly Normal) 061: ne/nim (Every Moment, and the One That Came Before) 062: da/dar (Flatland Warriors: Ponder the Meaning of the Words, or, The Breaking Point) 063: ne/nim (Not In The Loop) 064: he'er/him'mer (Living Smoke) 065: wy/vyr (A Glimpse Back in Time) 066: skull/skulls (Dirt Nap) 067 shy/hyr (The Arrest of Arsène Lupin) 068 et/eil (Game Changer) 069 zo/zol (First Day of School) 070 drae/drem (The Overcoat of Arsène Lupin) 071 rhe/rhem (Rhayn's Descent) 072 sun/suns, lae/laer (A Rumor Grows Like Weed) 073 ero/ilas, hea/ler, ido/eis, zal/az, ae/ryn, sia/lia (With a Smile) 074 zig/zag, that one/that one's, ae/aeth (The Hitchhiker) 075 shade/shades, alternating she/her and he/him (The Crystal Connection) 076 fin/fins, ai/ain (The Port Freehaven Mermaids) 077 rat/rats (Jenny Every...Who?) 078 kal/vir (Guardian Star) 079 rhi/rhim (The Theft of the Synphirim) 080 zim/zur (Knowing When to Run) 081: zim/zur (The Well of the Depths) 082: xal/xalv, nova/novas, they/them (Mickey Mouse in Out of the Dreadful Depths) 083: grey/greys/greyself (Alterhuman Advancements April 2124) 084: she/shim, faal/fala, zae/zaen, dae/daes (The Griffon's Curse) 085 za (Stereotypical Amnesia) 086: av/afo, en/eta (The Endless River) 087: cel/cele (Out of the Kitchen and into the...) 088: kui/kuip, dae/daem (What Kind of Teenager Doesn't Want Money?) 089: asp/asps, aster/asters, (Nip it in the Bud) 090: xet/xev, (Gaining A New Perspective)

= = =

Audiobook versions so far:

Done: 3/62 (1-2 and 062)

"https://archive.org/details/neopronouns-in-action/Neopronouns+in+Action+001+01.mp3"

= = =

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Update December 23rd 2023: alright, you can submit fanfiction that uses neopronouns to this blog as long as you aren't changing the pronouns of character who canonically use other neopronouns, and aren't shipping anything harmful.

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neopronouns requested I still have to do (please let me know if you find the old posts with requests so I can put them here so they're easy to find)

ast/aster/asters/asteroid/asteroth

moon/moons/moonself

[lunarhayn]

A HUGE thank you to @princeanxious for letting me write this. I really like how it turned out and I hope you do too

This can be interpreted as romantic or platonic

(Amazing picture that Luka drew (and what this was based off of) at the bottom)

WARNING: Mention of nightmares and mention of a panic attack

It had been roughly 2 a.m. when Virgil crawled into Logans bed, shaking slightly. Logan knows this because he woke up to the anxious trait crawling into his bed and could blearily make out the glowing numbers on his clock. No words were shared as Virgil curled up into him, arms folded against himself as Logan wrapped him securely against his bare chest. Soft taps on his lower back kept count while Virgil slowly started to regain control of his breathing.

The word nightmare crossed Logans mind as he held the darker side in his arms. Logans room was the most grounding and would calm Virgil whenever he come in, especially when he had really bad nightmares. They had discovered the hard way that Pattons room would be effected by Virgils emotions and only make him worse and Romans would bring his fears to life. So, they created a system: Romans room was for trouble sleeping, Pattons room was for was used for marathon distractions, and Logans was for nightmares - which, unfortunately, happened more often then not.

It had become a weekly thing for Virgil to crawl into Logans bed, shaky and on the verge of a panic attack. Thankfully, Logan could say that they were going down. Virgil had gone from coming in for nearly the whole week to one or two nights a week.

Eventually, Logan could feel Virgil start to slowly relax against him, his breathing more or less back to normal. That's when Logan stopped tapping and started run his hand up and down Virgils back, gripping him with his other arm and rolling onto his back, letting the anxious trait rest on top of him. Virgil readjusted, resting his head on Logans chest and listening to his heartbeat while he tangled their legs together. He slowly unfolded an arm and brought it out to wrap around Logans side, sighing as he got comfortable.

Logan continued to rub his back, smiling when the trait eventually fell pliant against him, his breathing evened out. The logical side soon followed in suite.

.......

It was early when Logans alarm woke him that morning. He winced at the blaring noise, internally screaming because that's what he forgot to do last night! Turn off the annoying alarm to let Virgil sleep. He lifted his free arm and tried to feel around for the off button, not able to move well enough to see with Virgil still on him. Logan froze as the sleeping side began to stir, letting out a yawn as Logan pulled the plug, effectively shutting the alarm off.

"Wha' time sit?" And a small groan followed as Virgil slowly pulled himself up.

Logan internally winced, "Just after 6:30 I believe."

"Early..."

"I am aware. I apologize, I meant to shut it off last night and forgot to." Virgil let out another yawn, "If you wish, we can go back to sleep."

"Nah, s'okey...already up." Virgil mumbled, stretching his arms above his head.

"If you say so." Logan said, carefully pulling himself up against his pillows and grabbing his glasses. He smiled as Virgil curled up into his side, one leg thrown over Logans as his arms wrapped around his neck. Logan took the opportunity and placed a small kiss on the top of his head.

With a sigh, Virgil pushed himself up slightly to look at Logan and a small smile graced his sleepy features, "Mornin'"

"Good morning, Virgil. Did you sleep well?"

"Mhmm. Lot better with you."

Logan couldn't stop the smile from appearing, "I'm glad."

It was quiet for a while before Virgil spoke up again, "Issit okey if I stay in 'ere for a while? You're comfy."

"Of course." Logan said with a laugh.

And the two lay there, curled up into each other as the sun rose, illuminating the room in pinks, purples, reds, and oranges. Virgil tracing designs onto Logans bare chest as they talked.

And here we have the AMAZING picture that 1. This is based off of and 2. That I have been obsessed with (hands down one of my all time favorite pieces of art)

[falling-rhayne]

Everyone on the ship was on edge. They'd been on edge for a while now, ever since they'd lost the one person that kept them together.

Lance didn't joke as much as he used to. Pidge was borderline obsessing over researching Galra tech. Hunk had lost most of his appetite. And Keith...

Losing Shiro had hit Keith harder than anyone.

He'd lock himself in the training room, fighting robot after robot, a picture of pure rage as he sliced each and every one. He didn't stop. He refused to stop. Coran was forced to deactivate the system, and Pidge had to install modifications to ensure Keith couldn't reactivate it. Even then Keith would train himself exhausted, and Hunk would end up dragging him away, kicking and screaming that he needed to train, he needed to get stronger, he needed to protect all of them.

But it wasn't these little "outbursts" that concerned them. They could handle a hotheaded Keith. They had learned how to calm him down. It was easy.

It was the cold, unemotional Keith that worried them. The Keith that would stare into the distance with unblinking eyes. The Keith that hardly spoke a word during group meal. The Keith that was physically there but mentally somewhere else.

Only Lance knew how to handle that Keith.

Lance would sit himself next to Keith, close enough to press their thighs together, centering the conversation on himself so the other paladin could get himself together. He'd wave his hand over Keith's face, snapping him out of his reverie, cracking one of his smug smiles once he'd get Keith's attention.

Lance made himself a distraction, made himself louder than the thoughts in Keith's head, made Keith forget the responsibilities and lives that were suddenly his to take care of.

And Keith appreciated it.

Appreciated the worried glances, the reassuring touches, the subtle nagging, the grounding presence.

It kept him sane.

Lance kept Keith sane.

Ridiculous.

[wildflowerfiction77]

Hollywood

Movies 3 6/21/2019 4:07pm

So, after the last blog, I was inclined to google the movie “The Fountain”.  When doing so, I saw that they had created a graphic novel of the same name.  The writer/director gave a script and had the artist, one of the best painters of comics, known to me the artist for Havok and Wolverine mini series in the late 80′s/early 90′s.  Now, I loved the guys work. He had a palette of earth tones and muted colors, mixed with an abstract expressionistic style.  After reading the directors comments about the details of how they created the book, I was somewhat upset.  The artist was given free reign in the storytelling, in which the images I saw on the internet, looked like the main characters were Mexican or Native American.  It could have been the bad guy, but he kind of looked like me at the time and a girl I had dated, that was an inspiration to the character and I had used one of her poems in the sixth chapter.  So I ordered the book and the movie on Amazon the next day.  I have yet to see the book, but I am still a bit unsettled.  I have come to terms that it is a different version of the story, and it is based on historical events, and it is something that I am glad it made it to the big screen.  I am not happy with the fact that their is a high percent chance that it the seed did come from my book.  The interesting thing is that years later, around 2012, I had gotton a back tattoo of a lion and a snake, and later on a phoenix.  On the cover of the graphic novel, the guy had a tattoo of a tree.  So I guess that was a weird coincidence. 

Another interesting fact was that on my mothers side, my grandmothers maiden name is Moctezuma.  Now I’m not sure how common that is, but it is believed that we have blood lines of one of the Kings of the Aztec Empire.  As diluted as it may be, there is also many wives and concubines that Kings usually have.  That being said, it is a truth.  I have my own ideas of the history of the Aztec Empire and what has been changed and rewritten by the Europeans after its downfall, but that will have to wait for a more specific writing.  

To go along with “The Fountain”, a slew of other movies, created years after were made.  Pan’s Labyrinth also in 2006 by Mexican director, Guillermo del Toro was similar to a few stories mixed in with history, including Alice in Wonderland and The Labyrinth by Jim Henson.  The premise of my story was the young boy and girl in a fairytale world were they worked in a slave factory.  The drawings looked similar to the movie as well as the soldier aspect.  I guess they also made a book/graphic novel of that as well.  When the movie came out, I was also kind of upset, but didn’t like the overall premise of how dark they represented the fairytale world, furthering the propaganda, although it was set in Spain, the director is Mexican, albeit, very anglo in blood line. I did like the movie though, and thought it was a great creation in art. 

The last two movies that were also similar to the story were Elysium with Matt Damon in 2013 and Apocalypto by Mel Gibson in 2006. In 2003-2004, I was hired by Fifth Sun, a t-shirt company in Chico, CA.  Dan Gonzalez, the owner,  had known me from a couple of years before that from me doing art around town and working with Voice Magazine in Paradise.  His brother had created the toy line of Chicano culture years before that, “The Homies”, in which I was familiar with.  I had done some concept work for a few t-shirt lines for him and he was kind enough to give me some work.  At the time, I was living in Butte County, and had girlfriend that moved to San Francisco to attend the State College.  I had just dropped out of the SF Art Institute the year before, so she was upset that I did, because she had went to SF because I was there.  Now there was a story I’m going to tell of why I did, and have told people I know about it, but about a year or two, I did move back to SF to live with said girlfriend, and the owner of Voice and Dan Gonzalez were upset that I had done so.  At the time, Dan Gonzalez had offered me a chance to be a featured artist in Low Rider magazine and to do a Aztec comic book for him.  

I pitched him the idea the idea of story based on Cuatemoc, which he had shown me some Chicano artwork and well know Mexica paintings of the Aztec hero.  During that same month, I had been given the ultimatum by the girlfriend to move with her or end the relationship.  Since I was in love with the girl, I given my three week notice to everyone.  Dan Gonzalez was upset, as well as others, but I finished the art for the first book in the first month I was in SF, which was a daunting task.  Fifth Sun was a T-Shirt company, and the book was something a little separate. Dan Gonzalez had given me a used Mac, G3 with the works on it, and I had gathered the other computer equipment while working at Voice in Paradise to work on my own.  The money was good, and in the contract was an agreement for me not to work on any other Aztec themed works for five years, other than Nezahual and Rhayne, which was the story I had been working on for almost ten years and was known to Dan Gonzalez.  So we put that in the contract.  

In the first month, I presented to him the finished art for the pages of the book he hired me to do.  We had a meeting and he said he couldn’t use the work, that it was not he hired me to do.  He wanted something more superhero like.  I had presented him something more Conan like.  Now, I had given him a script and a few sketches, in which he kept the sketches.  He had the pages copied and I had some other Chicano themed ideas I was also presenting him with.  Among them were pictures of me a kid dressed up in Low Rider garb and other photos of my family that I wanted to recreate for a t-shirt line.  He had brought in another Chicano artist, and had shown him the pics and said to him, that this is the style he was talking about he wanted to create.  He offered to create a project with those photos, but I declined when he had other artists in mind to work on the project.  I had not gotten permission by family to even use the photos and didn’t like the idea of other artists taking over the project.  He seemed upset.  

So, leaving with the artwork of the Aztec comic and not getting paid the second half of the money, we had emailed each other about the terms of the unused artwork.  I had told him that I would use the artwork in my story for Nezahual and Rhayne, and would create him another book.  He had said in the meeting before that he had decided not to create comics, that his advisors told him to stay with t-shirts and that he really just wanted the abundance of artwork that the comic medium provided. So in the email, he had said to whatever I wanted with the artwork.  So that seemed to be the end of the contract.  Interestingly enough, during first working with him and Voice, Fifth Sun had hired some Chicano artists in L.A.  from Disney, and had brought them to work and live in Chico.  While working at Voice, we had community events where Voice would have a table promoting its books.  Unbeknownst to me, one of the artists and his wife came to the table looking at the books and art.  After a moment, the artist pulled his wife to the side and talked, then they abrubtely excused themselves.  This was before the Aztec comic book was conceived, but I had put it in the idea that maybe they had word not to mingle with me because of Fifth Sun art stuff.  Now, I’m thinking there was something else to it.  During that time as well, I had heard of another artist that first worked with 5th Sun in its early days, and didn’t get paid what he felt was owed to him, like a house and royalties.  I guess the artist from Disney had left without getting their full deals in similar fashion, but that was just hear-say.  So I was aware of the possibilities of this happening, but artists are always in danger of this happening when creating work for the public.  

So the work that I created for fifth sun was pretty much that Aztec guy running from supernatural enemies in the jungle, trying to save his girl.  When Apocalypto premiered I didn’t really think it the same as the story I created, but now I see some similarities.  Honestly, I didn’t like the presentation of the Aztec culture, as it seemed really Eurocentric and downright demonizing of the ancient Mexican culture, which Euro history is seems to do in my opinion.  The Elysium movie, 2013 was something that was the third idea of my story that I felt was used as inspiration.  After a year in SF with said girlfriend, in 2007-2008 we had moved to Chico and I continued my work on the Nezahual and Rhayne story.  This time, I finished coloring the declined work for 5th Sun and tried to rework it to fit into an acceptable adaptation to Nezahual and Rhayne  Included to this, my girlfriend and I starting writing down the dissutopian future of the love story of urban life after world war 3.  Now the Matt Damon movie starred a white guy and included high tech electronics and such, but the premise of that world, was that Nezahual was from the poor people world, that sold drugs, guns and black market stuff,, while Rhayne was from the rich part of the world in which she went to college.  There is more to it, which most of it I haven't written down or even talked about it as it has been fermenting in my brain, it is overall a Romeo and Juliet styled story.  So the movie wasn’t a rip off so much, because I never finished it, but some of the drawing I created do have a similar feeling.  I actually like the movie, but did think they should have went with a brown actor.  It would have given it the grit it needed to make it believable and ground breaking, other than it being just another Hollywood movie that will be lost in time.  

So that's pretty much most of the main connections to that story that I noticed other than a couple of computer animated movies, but none as close as the afformentioned movies.  I guess I’m more flattered than anything.  I could have never come close to any of those creations, other than drawing and painting them, in which I intend to.  But there is always, which came first, which I got to go with my stuff.  There is always a race in creation but there is something to be said with quality and true inspiration.  My story has more to do with the cultures history than with the look of it.  

[taffymagazine]

The Good Enough

Essay by Rhayne Batista

I possess a strong force that has become less and less subconscious to me as it proves itself to be a guardian angel of sorts. It guides me towards certain things and away from others, makes passing decisions for me. It tells me what is worth my attention before I can deduce it for myself. It is this force that tells me what is good enough and what isn't, and as someone with ambition, I'm constantly driven away from what is not.

This force has morphed itself into a philosophy of abandoning what is not good enough --why have sex if it isn't great sex? Why, in a perfect world, eat food if it isn't good food? Why wear clothes that you don't like? Why do drugs if the fix is only temporary? And what seems most relevant to myself, why have friends that don't improve your quality of life?

It is by this fashion why I may seem like an introvert. I may often be surrounded by people and appear completely alone; I don't talk unless a conversation seems worth it --good enough. I won't initiate relations unless the outcome seems good enough. I filter through crushes one after the next because they're never good enough. So while I may often remain quiet and seemingly isolated, that's mostly just because I have a tendency to be a pretentious asshole.

Rather than a misanthrope, I am a cautious extrovert. I love people. I want to devote my life to writing stories based on the struggles of real people. I love being surrounded by people and I hate being alone. I want to support and nurture others. I think if I had a chance to never be alone I would take it. But all of this exists only if my subconscious deems it good enough. Is the conversation, the outcome, the person, good enough? That should say a lot to people about how much I talk to you. Not to say that my attention is a blessing to anyone --but this is the way in which it exists.

I have a tendency to spend good moments thinking about how sad I will be when that moment is over. I'm front row at a concert, and can't help but record as much of it as I can get away with, experiencing it through a lens, in preparation for the next night when I can't accept that I am no longer living that moment. I'm in a new friends car, driving through hills I've never seen before, on the way to WaWa and blasting a new favorite song, thinking about how the next day I'll be in an old friend's car, driving down a highway that I have seen before, on the way back to my crumbling apartment. No music is playing. I feel this tendency more intensely now, and realize the cause of it is that my recent experiences are good enough --better than that.

My new friends are good enough and better than good enough.

I enjoy my time with them often more than most people. I feel clingy, but only because so many other people just don't add up. And yet I feel lonely when I'm with them, as per my habit to think of when I won't be with them. They ruined other people for me. It is them that made me aware of the aforementioned force; I realized that since August, when we first met, that I have stopped talking to about 15 or so people whom I did consider my good friends. They didn't do anything wrong. I left a groupchat with the friends that I lived with for 3 weeks this summer. I've talked less and less with individuals that 2 months ago I considered my best friends.

I can't tell if I feel guilty or not, but I know I didn't do it on purpose. My subconscious told me it wasn't worth it to continue certain friendships with the same intensity or care, etc. It quite honestly sucks to say but they just don't seem good enough. Not when I now have 13 new friendships --scratch that, 12 plus a renewal of an existing one-- with individuals so much smarter, so much more aware, so much more caring, so much more ambitious, and so much more aligned in their senses of humor with mine, so much better than the lay peer. That's what's good enough. As it is always feared in these endeavors, they made me an elitist.

[lunarhayn]

Please

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Holy crap that took longer than I intended...oops. But yeah, the reason why it took so long was because I had veered too far from my normal style and my brain just didn't like that. So, I ended up redoing everything for this part.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this little story!

Pairings: Platonic Analogical

Type: Hurt/Comfort

WARNING: mentions on nightmares, mentions of a dead body, food/drink

It was nearing three thirty in the morning when Logan finally saved the files on his computer and shut his computer down. With a yawn, he stood and stretched, wincing slightly at the various noises coming from his body. A rumble from his stomach reminded Logan that he had missed supper. With a sigh, the logical side made the executive decision to grab something to eat before heading to bed.

Logan was surprised to see the glow from the T.V. lighting up the living room as he descended the stairs. With a quick scan of the dim room, Logan spotted the familiar curled up form of Virgil wrapped in his Black Cauldron blanket. The anxious side seemed to not notice Logan as he walked by, his eyes focused on the T.V., clearing zoned out. Logan couldn't help but notice the red rimmed, puffy eyes - a tell tale sign that Virgil had a very nasty nightmare.

Logan made his way to the small kitchen, working quickly and using the light from the T.V. as he put together a small snack. Merely ten minutes later, he joined Virgil on the couch, setting down a tray with two mugs of hot cocoa and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches - made with Crofters of course. Virgil jumped slightly as the tray hit the table. He turned to Logan, rapidly blinking as if he just now realized the logical side was there. It was then that Logan realized he was shaking slightly.

They shared no words as Logan offered a sandwich - the one with grape jam, of course. Virgils favorite. They ate silently, only the faint sounds from the T.V. filling the room. When they were done, Logan offered the dark purple galaxy mug with 'Not Today' written on in in big, white block letters, "It's not homemade like Pattons, but I remember you mentioning that warm drinks helped calm you."

Virgil accepted the mug with a small smile and leaned against Logan, a silent 'thank you' passed between them. Feeling satisfied, Logan reached down to grab in Tardis themed mug and took of small sip, wary of the slightly too hot drink. The two sat for a while, watching a movie Logan didn't recognize as the sipped on their cocoa. Logan was the first to speak.

"Nightmare?" He asked softly and Virgil nodded against his shoulder, "Would you like to talk about it?"

Virgil took a deep breath, as if deciding something, and spoke, "Mhmm.....it was about the Incident. Again."

Logan internally sighed, feeling phantom pains on his new scar. Virgil had had nightmares for weeks about Logans death. He made sure to stay far from the Imagination whenever it was in use and checked on whoever had been on there (mostly Roman) whenever they came out. Virgil sat up and set his empty mug down on the table before laying back down, his head now in Logans lap.

"It's just...I thought I was over these...." His voice was soft as he spoke, "but occasionally the Incident will just pop up and....and I can't get the image of your dead body out of my head." There was a pause and Logan could feel Virgil slightly shudder, "It's just....scary, you know?"

Logan hummed in response and sigh escaped the anxious side as he started to thread his fingers through purple locks.

"Would you like some help controlling those nightmares?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there are probably certain techniques out there to help with dealing with nightmares. We could probably find some that would work for you..."

Silence for a moment.

"Yeah...I'd like that."

...

Morning came and the sunlight filtered through blinds, sending streams of light on the sleeping boys. Logans hand still tangled in Virgils hair as the pale side curled around him.

They would be okay.

[lunarhayn]

I've got some really bad writers block at the moment, so here's the other Sides effects in Snap

Alright, so as I'm keeping this fic centered around Patton, I won't be going into much detail about the other effects the sides get in the mindscape. But, I do still want to talk about them. So, here they are:

Logan

Out of all, he probably gets effected the least. Overworking himself will cause his eyes to lose their color and fade from black to white (scared the stuffing out of Patton and Roman when he came down for dinner one night with light grey, almost white eyes). He doesn't pass out per say when this happens, but he becomes 'brain dead' in a way. He speech becomes simple and he gets very relaxed. While he still has all his knowledge, he doesn't quite know what to do with it. This episodes can last from 20 minutes to 4 days. Thankfully it's only happened four times total and while Thomas doesn't lose his logic, he is just much slower at processing things. Roman will take over for a while to give Thomas a break from thinking.

Virgil

His eyes will change to purple in certain situations. The worse the situation, the darker the purple. His voice will also change to the demonic one we heard the the Moving On videoas it's part of his fight or flight response kicking in. When that does happen, his speed, strength, agility, and height will all increase in some way to put him in Protection Mode. Typically not noticable until he actually goes to do something. Thankfully, Thomas hasn't been in a situation dire enough for more than the voice change and sometimes his eyes. Roman is the only one who knows about the rest as he had drug Virgil on a quest with him and it went very downhill very quickly.

Roman

Roman gets arguably effected the most. Creative blocks are the worst and probably happen the most. When these happen, Roman literally loses color. His skin while turn white, his eyes a light grey along with his hair and sash. The gold on his regalia fades to silver and his blood goes black. As Logan is logic, he has to stay away from Roman as much as possible. Roman will typically spend days in his room and in the Imagination with Patton trying to get his creative juices flowing again. They longest this has gone on was nearly a month. When Roman finally comes up with a creative he deems decent, his color will return in a flash and ideas will be pouring out of him for a few days after. He will occasionally overwork himself too. This leads to a creative burnout, which is something all the sides have to band together and fix. Thankfully, these will typically last a day or two...once the sides find out of course. During theses episodes, Roman heats up. His skin feels like fire, his mouth is always dry (almost always the giveaway as he drinks so much), hot food/drink is a no go, and his hair will literally turn to flames if it gets too bad. Clothes are also not his friend, so Roman will go around in nothing but boxers. Because he gets so hot, it makes it really hard to think. The reason it takes all the sides to help is because of a rotation to quickly get Roman back to normal. He has to take an ice bath every few hours to help regulate his body temperature. But, since he gets focused on tasks way too easily during burnouts, the other sides have to drag him away from whatever he is doing to get him in the bathroom - hence them doing rotations (Patton and Virgil will split the night shift with each other, though, as they are both huge nightowls). Once they get it down to what Logan deems acceptable, Roman will require a day or two of recovery.

@teacupfulofstarshine @iris-sanders-athena @that1theatregirl @apologieslogan @hissesssss @nightlovechild

[lunarhayn]

Creative Block

This is what a creative block is for me (and a sort of explanation for why I haven't been writing)

Imagine you're reading a new book. The cover has no title and is covered in intricate designs and the book has a worn feel to it. Overall, you think it will be an amazing read. So, you open it and start.

Right off the bat you are put into an epic fight scene with pages upon pages of detailed scenes and characters. You read as the main characters best friend gets brutally murdered by their enemy and how the main character takes it upon their self to take that person - the leader - down. And finally, finally, that characters plan is in action and they are facing the leader and everything is about to go down and you turn the page to find out what happens-

And there is a girl and she is crying. You don't know why, but she is deeply hurt. Locked away in her room and ignoring all attempts of contact. She wants nothing to do with anyone at the moment and-

Suddenly the next few pages are blank. It doesn't last more than four, but it does confuse you.

And then you're in a fantasy world. Warlocks, dragons, fae folk all around you. You're on an adventure with an elven princess, trying to find her lost love. This goes on for pages and pages and pages and-

Now you're a homeless man, trying to get by. Life is rough but you are making it through. Right now your biggest issue is-

Finding a magical key?

And suddenly the pages are blank again. Nearly ten pages this time

And that how it goes. Portions of incredible and interesting stories along with different variations of blank pages. Nothing lines up. Nothing makes sense. But you're too intrigued to stop. Maybe the next page with have another point of that good mystery you read fifty pages ago - or some more on that sick girls life!

But alas, you reach the end of the book and nothing fits together. And you are left sad and wanting more. 

A creative block for me is a series of brief ideas I get that lead to nothing. Sometimes there's a whole bunch of them and other times I can barely come up with a sentence. It's not fun to say the least and this one won't go away

[lunarhayn]

Road Trip

A request by my lovely friend @learningthomas for a platonic Moxiety road trip...AKA an excuse for me to make things sappy

Genre: Fluff

Pairings: Platonic Moxiety

WARNING: Cars, driving, mention of childrens home, food mention (specifically cookies and fries), and some tooth rotting fluff

"I's too early to be up." Virgil mumbled, followed by a small yawn.

Patton merely laughed as he started the car, "It's nearly nine, kiddo. I think you'll survive waking up before three."

That only earned a huff and a glare from the younger boy as Patton pulled out of the driveway. The two were on their way to a childrens home to pick up Pattons new daughter, Asha. He had fallen in love with her merely a month before on his first visit to the home and the two got along greatly. He had been able to keep five year old for a week, to make sure Patton was good to take care of the small child, before having to send her back so he could fill out all the necessary paperwork to adopt the girl.

And now he was dragging Virgil along for the hour and a half long drive to get her.

They both knew Roman would've been a better fit to keep Patton company on the long drive, but the actor had practice for the musical he was in and Logan had work he couldn't get off. So, Virgil became the one Patton was dragging along - at fricking nine in the morning!!! - to pick up his new daughter.

Patton was lucky Virgil loved him.

And the older man also may or may not have bribed the smaller with cookies. And Virgil was sure to remind Patton that. Every chance he got.

And so the two were off.

It started off with the two friends dramatically lip singing along to Virgils playlist - Virgil moreso as Patton was driving.  The playlist consisted of anything from Fall Out Boy and Panic! at the Disco to Little Mix and Troye Sivan, and the two were loving it. About a half an hour in, Patton pulled intl a fast food place for breakfast. Or food at least, as Virgil ended up getting cookies and fires rather than an actual breakfast food (though Patton wasn't complaining as he snitched some). With the promise of cookies fulfilled and full tummies, the duo set off again and continued their car jam session with the music as loud as they could take it.

As the sun grew warmer, Virgil ditched his purple patched hoodie in favor of his black tank top and the grey cardigan Patton wore joined it in the back soon after. Virgil's pale skin seemed to glow in the bright sun and his purple hair slowly turned iridescent as the rays bounced from it. And no matter what, he couldn't seem to wipe the beaming smile from his face.

Patton wasn't ashamed to say the he had planned this on a day that both Roman and Logan were busy just so he could have some quality time with his best friend. It had been a while since he had seen Virgil have so much fun - even if the boy had to wake up before noon for it to happen.    

By the time the pair arrived in the small town where the home was, neither could wipe the  smiles of happiness and excitement from their faces.

(And if Virgil was being honest, he wouldn't mind another road trip with Patton)

[lunarhayn]

You're too Cute

In response to my writing challenge from @treblemaker-xp for a fluff to angst prompt

Characters: Logan and captor

WARNING: implied kidnapping and abuse, mentions of blood, bruised, cuts, absolute fear and terror, pet name, f-bomb at the end

Logan let out another whimper as his abused back hit the wall behind him. He brought his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, trying to make himself as small as possible.

He could hear the footsteps coming closer.

Fear and terror filled him to his core as a shadow appeared. Logan immediately bit his tounge and tried to quiet his sniffles as best he could. His breathing quickened as the human the shadow belonged to appeared.

"Come on out, my little pet," he said, his voice sickly smooth and striking even more terror into Logans heart, "we aren't done playing yet."

The footsteps grew closer and Logan closed his eyes, willing himself to disappear as more tears fell and stung his cut cheeks. He gripped his legs tighter, wincing as he put pressure on the bruises.

And then the footsteps stopped.

"I know you're in here, pet. Don't try hiding from me for too long, now, we still have many more games to play." He purred.

Logan ducked his head and prayed that the chair hid him well enough.

The footsteps started again. Coming closer.

And closer.

And closer.

Until...

"Found you pet." And the chair that had been hiding him as dragged away. Logans eyes went wide with fear and he shrunk back even further into the corner. His captor stared down at him, a smirk plastered to his face and a glint in his eye.

"Awww, you're too cute like that. All curled up in fear." He cooed, "Too bad you couldn't hide well enough. Blood leaves a nice little trail...but is so very hard to clean up, pet."

And when those hands came down to grab him, Logan knew he was fucked.

Again.   

[lunarhayn]

Snap: Part 2

Ahhhhhh!!! So much positive feedback on part 1 that I was not expecting and some good ones on my other Sides post!! Thank you all! 😊 Not gonna lie, this is kind of a filler chapter as I did only have some ideas, nothing actually planned. I am a detailed oriented person and I really wanted to show off my image of Virgils bedroom....so this happened.

WARNING: Mentions of blood. Nothing graphic or serious or anything like that, but it is briefly mentioned

It was the first time anyone other than Virgil had entered his room. His actual room. The one that he slept in, that wouldn't change with location. He safe spot where he had spent countless days in before being accepted. It was through the door that led to Thomas's room, but it wasn't his room. It was Virgils, catered to his taste and liking.

Three of the walls were a deep purple, while the one where his bed sat was as black as tar, the color leading up onto the ceiling. Posters ranging from Disney to bands Patton had never heard of covered the wall opposite of Virgils bed, some spreading onto the wall with the door that they had just walked through. A t.v. sat on a dark, wooden dresser in between two other doors on the poster covered wall. A silver desk stood under a window just opposite of them, designs of all colors covering it

"So, um...I can sleep on the floor and you can take the bed," Virgil stated quietly, "The carpets pretty soft."

Patton snapped his head back to Virgil, processing what he just said, "Why on earth would you sleep on the floor, kiddo? If anyone should be, it's me."

"Well, you are my guest, so it's only fair you get the bed."

Patton sighed, knowing his dark son would be adamant on him sleeping on the bed. But he couldn't just let Virgil sleep on the floor! And that's when Patton realized something, despite the covers being an absolute mess on the bed, only a portion of it looked actually slept in.

"How about we compromise? Your bed looks big enough, I get one side, you get your usual. Deal?"

Virgil thought for a moment, eyes glancing between Patton and his bed before nodding, "Deal."

And so the pair made their way over. Virgil flopped down onto the side closest to the window and Patton took the other, immediately snapping himself into a comfy pair of blue cat and dog patterned pajama pants and a matching shirt. He sat down, and let out a small yelp when he saw the state of the once white carpet. Blood red footprints line the path they took. Virgil let out a small laugh.

"Pretty cool, huh? It's heat activated, so when you step on it, the carpet will turn blood red. The longer you stay, the darker the red."

Patton blinked a few times, and nodded. He sat, watching the color slowly fade from red, to pink, and finally back to white before turning on the black and white checkered blanket to look at Virgil.

Only to notice an odd mass on the corner of the bed. It looked almost like a....like a pet bed, made out of the same fabric as the patches on Virgils hoodie.

"Virgil?"

"Hmm?"

"Why do you have a pet bed here?" Patton asked, turning to look at the darker trait. Virgils legs were drawn to his chest, showing of his purple galaxy themed pajama pants that he had snapped into at some point.

He flicked his eyes to the hed before going back to Patton and speaking softly, "My...shadow creature sleeps there."

"Your what now?"

"My shadow creature, Twilight, she sleeps there. She must have run off when we came in, she's not used to anyone other than me."

"Aww, I hope she comes out at some point. I wanna meet her!" Patton exclaimed excitedly, bouncing a little on the bed, "What exactly is a 'shadow creature' Verg?"

"Oh, umm, well...a creature formed by shadows I guess? When we were younger, I found out I could manipulate the shadows. I created Twilight when I first got lonely...I'm not quite sure what she is, but she was my only friend and I just love her too much to get rid of her." Virgil ended with a shrug, not missing the guilt the flashed across Pattons face.

He had learned better than to reassure Patton, though, it only made Patton feel worse about barely being there for his kiddo.

It was quite for a little while, neither of the sides knowing quite what to say. Eventually, Virgil brought up the idea to watch some t.v. or movies as they had a while before either would go to sleep.

As they curled up next to each other under the blankets and Virgil dimmed the lights, Patton realized something: his vision had changed.

It wasn't much, just a tint of a color he wasn't quite sure of...indigo his brain supplied for him. Also known as calm.

Patton gave a small smile as Virgil put on a movie. He was right. He was calm.

For tonight at least.

This is crappy, I know. You have writers block to thank for it being so short and ending lile that. But I know where I'm headed with the next part, so please accept this while I attempt to get my ideas out of my head and into writing. Also, for those of you who watch Dan and Phil, Virgils comforter is the same as Dans.

@teacupfulofstarshine @iris-sanders-athena @that1theatregirl @apologieslogan @hissesssss @nightlovechild

[lunarhayn]

Ok, so I read literally on of my all time favorite Sander Sides fics earlier by @fireflysinmystomach and ended making my own little organize version to it. I’ll admit, it’s not the best. But this is my first ever soulmate story and I really like it

I hope you enjoy!

She was 4 when the terms ‘soulmate’ and 'soul mark’ were brought up in class

She was 7 when her parents finally explained that she had now soul mark. No phrase that was supposed determine who she was destined to be with

She was 9 when she started to strip in front of her bedroom mirror at least once a week, wondering if maybe her parents had missed it or if it was just too small to see or maybe it would just randomly show up

She was 10 when she discovered calligraphy. When she finally got good at it, she would write a phrase someone on her body of what a soulmate might say. Some good, some not so good. Every time it would finally fade from many washes, she would put a new one somewhere else

She was 11 when she realized she had a crush on Nyla, her best friend – who had a soul mark

It was her thirteenth birthday when she first had a breakdown over not having a soul mark. She was leaving the bowling alley with her friends when Nyla tripped and landed in the arms of a boy a few years older than she

“Hey, watch it.”

And she watched with dread as Nyla’s breath caught in her throat

“Will do, I can be such a clutz sometimes.”

And his eyes widened

For years the girls had discussed defying the rules, especially when the soul mark on your hip says 'Hey, watch it’ as that’s never said nicely. They agreed that the idea of a soul mark was silly because 'Why can’t you just love who you want?’

And yet, Nyla stood there, looking absolutely smitten for this new boy

She was 13 ½ when they stopped being friends

“You promised, Nyla, you promised you wouldn’t leave me…”

“That was before I met him and-”

“-And now he’s your whole world.”

“That’s not true, Aslan.”

“But it is.”

She was 16 when she decided that not having a soulmate would run her life. The writing on her arms went away and the sketches started

She was 19 when she finally moved out and left her small town

She was 20, sitting under a tree at the park, sketching some random things after a particularly bad day, when it happened

The bench shifted ever so slightly when the girl sat down, though she didn’t notice it. It took a pat on the leg to get Aslans attention. She looked up to see an unfamiliar face holding out small paper. A small smile lit up the girls darker features. Aslan furrowed her brows as she took the paper and looked it over. It was a quick sketch of a person – her, she realized as she looked at it closer, on the bench sketching. It was obvious the drawing had been down rather quickly, but there was so much detail to it. Like the way her shorts crinkled a little at the hip or and the folds of her shirt. The way her hair fell and the shadows from the sun. There were also some words on the bottom of it, just big enough to read.

Why does the star look so down today?

Aslan let out a small laugh and turned to the newcomer

“This is really sweet, but I’m not really in the mood for anyone’s sunshine today. But the thought is really nice.”

The other girls face fell for a brief moment before lighting back up. She quickly reached into her pocket and brought out a small pad of paper with a pen attached to it. Moments later, Aslan was being handed another paper.

Hi! I’m Laya. I’m also a mute. Weird, but can I show you my leg?

“Your…leg?”

The girl, Laya, nodded.

“Um, sure. I guess?”

And suddenly she was grabbing the hem of her pale blue skirt and pulling it up just above her knees. There was a phrase wrapped around her thigh, Layas soul mark to be exact. Aslans eyes widened as she read some of the words

'This is really sweet, but I’m’

Aslans hand slapped over her mouth as Laya turned her leg to read the rest of the phrase. The one Aslan had said only minutes before. The small smile on Layas face grew into a wide grin and Aslan felt her eyes tear up a little.

“I never…I never realized there was a chance for me to actually have a soulmate.”

Her voice was soft and Laya looked at her curiously

“I don’t have a soul mark. I…thought it was because I wasn’t meant to be with anyone. I didn’t even think that the reason would be that they couldn’t talk.”

Aslan let out a bitter laugh

“Guess I learned my lesson.”

Laya looked at her oddly for a moment

“I just didn’t have the best childhood not having a soul mark. A lot of kids called me unlovable and I guess I started to believe it.”

Another paper came into her view

But they were wrong. You seem pretty lovable to me

“Well, let’s hope I am”

Laya gave her a reassuring smile and immediately Aslan knew there was hope for her yet.

[falling-rhayne]

Tags:

Major Character Death

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)

Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Crowley (Good Omens)

Adam Young (mentioned)

Angst

Hurt

Hurt but no comfort

Lots of Angst

Character Death

Crowley loves Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Aziraphale loves Crowley (Good Omens)

they love each other but the love hurts

no beta we die like men

you guys read the tags you know what you're getting into

Flower Language

Foxglove

foxgloves

Summary:

Some things in this world are made to be admired from afar. Things that are made beautiful, ethereal - pure, even - that are just not meant to be touched. Like flowers whose blooms fill a dreary field with color, but whose very being would bring a man to the brink of death.

Aziraphale was one of these things.