#Writing stuff long into the night

[gale-force-storm]

He refuses to fall for the first person to show him kindness. He may be feeling sorry for himself, but that's a bridge too far.

Even if they are beautiful. And kind to everyone, not just him. And brave. And clever. And strong. And they love animals, and reading. And they have a wry sense of humour that he adores.

He won't. He can't. Besides all else, this is decidedly not the time. A bomb in his chest and a worm in his head and a weight on his shoulders and a shame in his stomach and a shattered heart he's still trying to gather the pieces of. Desperately clinging to the cloak of his past, wrapping himself in his former confidence, pretending it hasn't been worn threadbare with time in isolation and eaten ragged by the moths of doubt and fear and past mistakes.

He fell from grace so far so fast, but he cannot beg affection off the first hand to offer him help up, even if it is the first time he's touched another person in months. Even if that hand did send a sudden warmth through him and feel so right in his own he could almost cry from it.

...This is getting out of hand.

He can just be friendly with them, surely. How does one make friends, again? Shared interests? He mostly just has the one, so he'll share what he can. They pick it up quickly, and the warm magic that surrounds them is a balm on his soul. Right up until they imagine kissing him, and his heart skips a beat. It can't be. It can't be. They can't want him back. It's not possible. And how, after it all, after everything, is he meant to resist the overwhelming temptation of being wanted?

They don't let up, either. Lingering glances. Warm smiles. All but propositioning him at the tiefling party. If there is a single positive thing to be said about his year of orb-imposed abstinence, it's that the willpower he had to build up and the practice denying himself were the only things that enabled him to decline their advances.

Well, that and the risk of blowing up the both of them, along with everyone else in or near the camp.

The warm smiles and lingering gazes and casual touches still continue, though.

This is fine. He's fine. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, someone cared for him like this, and he can't do a damn thing about it, but he's fine. Everything is fine. As fine as it can be, anyways, given everything else about the situation.

He supposes he should probably be more upset about Mystra's orders. At this point, though, it's hard to feel like it's anything besides a way out. A relief that he can be good for something. One more miserable experience, and then he's done with it, and all their problems are solved. There are worse things.

Except.

They're so angry about it. Everyone is, but them especially. Arguing with both him and Elminster the entire time, insisting there's another option. That they'll find or make one. Whatever they have to do to keep him around.

Gods help him, but he does want to stay with them. Stay for them.

He sleeps that night, and awakens with a jolt, a groan, and a realization. He's glad that prestidigitation exists to clean himself up without leaving his tent and risking the others' notice. His body had, apparently, caught up with certain implications before his brain. Though from what snippets of his dream he remembers, maybe it was only his waking mind that had been lagging behind.

He wants them, and he can finally have them. Can give them as much of himself as he's able, in the time he has left.

He had refused, at first, the idea of falling for the first person to show him kindness. And he hasn't. He's fallen for someone who is so much more that that. And he will not, cannot, die without letting them know. If he has to leave them, and he fears he will, then he will not leave them feeling unappreciated, or uncherished, or unloved. Not when he can finally embrace the full depth and breadth of what he feels for them. Has felt for them for what can't have been more than a tenday or two, but feels like a lifetime and a moment all at once.

He will not leave without showing them the full scope of his admiration and appreciation and sheer joy at their presence. The full scope of how impossibly deeply he already loves them. Not while he has any say in it.

[aroaceleovaldez]

I was reading a post about CoTG and I realized: Rick has seemingly started to write every character pairing with the exact same dynamic, and he's not good at writing that dynamic and it doesn't make sense for 90% of the characters he writes it for.

It's that very specific dynamic of one half of the pair who is almost aggressive to the other party - "teasing" them constantly/insulting them, affectionately punching/judo flipping/maiming/etc, seemingly almost always exasperated with the other - and said other party usually just accepts this treatment or blanketly views it fondly, and may generally be framed as more incompetent than their partner and a little bit of a doormat (particularly relating to being insulted/teased/etc by their partner).

We start seeing this dynamic in HoO with Percy and Annabeth, as a sort of semi-inconsistent twist on their rivals-to-friends-to-lovers dynamic from the first series. Then the dynamic pattern develops further with Leo and Calypso. Then Magnus and Alex. Then Nico and Will, particularly in TSATS. And now in CoTG, it's Percy and Annabeth again but even more in this direction.

I know people have talked about Nico and Will's relationship over the series rapidly being shoehorned into Percabeth Two™, and it's extremely apparent in TSATS that Rick's doing it on purpose (including directly quoting Percabeth scenes but minorly tweaking them to be Solangelo). But recognizing it as an overarching trend in Rick's later books honestly reminds me a lot of how Rick started trying to apply the "Percy Formula" so-to-speak to nearly every protagonist in HoO (and then try to replicate similar character archetypes with Magnus and Apollo's narrations - moreso Magnus in being jaded and sarcastic, very much trying to be first series Percy. He only sounds unique because Rick failed at making him Percy 2. Apollo is more akin to later-series Percy characterization of being goofy and incompetent. Apollo [and Zeus] even got retconned to give Apollo a more similar backstory to Percy's). Rick seems to have decided that he thinks the audience wants this specific dynamic but 10 times over, except he's not good at writing it the first time because it's a bastardization of the time he did a different thing okay.

And Rick also seems aware of that too! Because he retconned Calypso and Leo at the end of TOA, probably because he realized how absolutely awful it was reading when they were written with that dynamic of Calypso just functionally hating Leo and constantly being aggressive towards him! The only time Rick's actually made the dynamic even semi-successful was with Magnus and Alex, because it actually fits within their characters, their dynamics with each other, and their environment. Alex beheading Magnus on the regular works out fine because there are no repercussions to that in Valhalla, Magnus will be fine, so it does genuinely come off as humorous. And Alex has been effectively established to be abrasive at times but have her genuine feelings shine through regularly, and that meshes well with Magnus' jaded-and-aloof-but-quietly-very-empathetic character. And Magnus has been established to, yes, not be great at combat, particularly compared to Alex. They are the only time that flavor of dynamic in that form was effective and cohesive.

Percabeth is no longer rivals-to-friends-to-lovers badasses on equal levels with shaky pasts who finally found some form of permanence with one another. Now it's super smart doting and affectionately aggressive girlfriend and her silly goofy 50%-of-the-time incompetent boyfriend who she judo flips/pushes off cliffs/etc - but affectionately~! Solangelo is trying to riff off of the early series "Poseidon & Athena are enemies" dynamic that Percabeth had but with Apollo & Hades being "opposites" but learning to accept each other, except it ends up with Will just coming off as a huge asshole and Nico being retconned to a complete doormat about it - when prior to that those characterizations would be completely contrary to their established characters (even just from TOA!). Calypso in HoO gets retconned from her PJO characterization to being snooty and aggressive, and Leo's false persona gets merged into his just normal personality except he just also becomes a doormat but more goofy than Nico with occasional haha-dark/depression-humor! Which Nico also got. Which was also a bastardized Percy trait that got redistributed.

It's exhausting. Rick write more than one relationship dynamic you can do it I promise

[silvers-starrway]

So the wildest thing happened where @mactheactor decided to dub over (if that's even the correct terminology) the Chaos Sonic animation I made!!!!

I'm still in utter awe about this like, hands down the coolest thing ever I've been thinking about this non-stop. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I do!!

[doctorsiren]

Wrote another Ace Attorney oneshot because I’m remembering how much I love to write

[anonymousbeefriendfanfics]

Hello and welcome to another installment of mossy being horny on main. Tonights programme? Gimmeee. The reactions of Zoya,maybe Shalom and your boy Lyney at the sight of their s/o dressed in an oversized band tshirt and an oversized band tshirt

:3

Note: This is supposed to say "an oversized band tshirt and nothing underneath" ;)

Fandoms: Path to Nowhere, Genshin Impact Characters: Zoya (PtN), Shalom (PtN), Lyney (GI) Warnings: NSFW, Minors beware! Slight Spoilers for Shalom's story. Mentions of: pegging, slight choking, Domme Zoya, teasing, oral (gn), penetration (gn), semi-submissive Lyney,

Zoya

Oh boy. Ohhhhh boy.

Instant turn on. She drops whatever she's doing - literally, if necessary, she doesn't care what breaks so long as she gets to break you.

For a long moment, she just stares. Appreciates the way the oversized shirt falls just past the curve of your ass, how something so baggy somehow accentuates the shape of your body so nicely. It's practically lingerie, watching you wear something like that.

And if you just so happen to bend over within her line of sight, or reach for something off a high shelf and cause your shirt to ride up, revealing that there's nothing underneath... good lord, it's almost embarrassing how turned on she is.

She's sweeping you off your feet and carrying you to the nearest flat surface, be it the bed, couch, or even a chair or the dinner table. She is not a patient woman. She will have you, and she will have you now.

She leaves your side only long enough to fetch her strap-on, and then she's bending you over whatever object it is that she's chosen for today's session. Normally, she holds your hips while she does this, but today she grips the sides of your shirt, allowing it to choke you slightly - or more than slightly, if you're into that - as she gives it to you hard and rough, relishing in every little gasp and moan and cry that leaves your pretty mouth.

She's not gonna stop until you come at least three times, and then she's helping move your spent body into a sitting or lying position so you can give her some pleasure, too. If you're too drained to manage that, then she'll just get herself off to the sight of you looking like such a mess while you watch <3

Shalom

Oh my. When you walk in wearing that, she's practically drooling over you just from the first glimpse. Whatever she's busy with is immediately tomorrow's problem. It doesn't matter anymore. Nothing matters but you.

Shalom still isn't very used to her newfound emotions - much less being able to feel and show them freely - and lust is one of the ones she struggles with the most. The burning-hot desire she feels is all-consuming and difficult to keep contained.

She seems to glitch at first. You turn around after a while of innocently pretending to do something else, only to find her staring at you, her eyes dark with lust. You can't tell from the way she's sitting, but she's got her thighs squeezed together in a subconscious effort to relieve her growing need.

You pretend to knock a pen off a nearby table and bend to retrieve it, flaunting your bare skin, and that snaps her out of it. She's out of the chair in a flash, crossing the room with long strides accentuated by the steady click of her shoes on the tile floor. She's by your side in mere moments, just as you straighten up. The pen falls from your grasp as she pulls you close and kisses you, one of her hands sliding beneath your shirt and caressing your body.

"You don't know what you do to me when you dress like that, my dear," she whispers when you break away for air, her lips brushing yours before she kisses her way down your jaw to your collarbone.

She soon grows bored of just kissing you, however, and leads you back to the desk where she's been working. She shoves her paperwork to the side - incredibly uncharacteristic for Shalom, but it shows just how needy she is. And then she's pushing your shirt up to your hips and instructing you to sit on the desk.

When you obey her, she's pulling up her chair, pushing your legs apart as she begins to taste your thighs, slowly working her way up, closer and closer to where you need her touch the most. She takes her sweet time, but once she gives you what you want, ohh is it worth it. Her mouth is incredible, and she puts that quick tongue of hers to good use, teasing and edging you until you feel like you're going to lose your mind.

When she finally lets you go over the edge and you come on her tongue, it's one of the best orgasms you've ever experienced. Your fingernails dig into the underside of her desk so hard you leave permanent crescent-shaped marks there, and occasionally Shalom will run her fingertip across them and think of this. You really should wear that shirt more often.

Lyney

For Lyney, let's say that it's not an oversized band t-shirt you're wearing... no, you're wearing a long white button-up shirt. Ideally, it's one of his, perhaps even the one he was wearing yesterday. It still smells like him, which is an immediate turn on for you, but as for our dear magician...

He's oblivious at first. You'll walk in the kitchen and greet him, and he'll give you a good morning kiss and say whatever poetic thoughts pop into his mind first, and then he turns to get more coffee.

And then he freezes mid-stride, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, processing everything. After several long seconds, he spins around, lavender eyes wide as they meet yours and then flick downwards, taking in your attire as his mouth goes dry.

It's incredibly attractive watching him get turned on. His eyes darken with lust, pupils dilating almost like a cat's, his breathing starts to get heavier, and that blush you adore so much begins to appear on his cheeks - soon it will spread to his ears and begin creeping down onto his chest, too.

"Oh-ho, what's this?" He asks, trying to salvage the situation, trying to pretend his brain hasn't been turned to mush with a single glance. You cheerfully reply that it's nothing much - well, that much is true, but only in a literal sense- and you turn to go about your day, intending to grab something off a bottom shelf just to give him a little peek beneath the shirt.

You don't get a chance, however. He's behind you as though by magic, his arms snaking around your waist as he hugs you tightly against his chest, and oh- he's already hard. "Ma cherie, just what do you- ahh-" You cut him off by wiggling your hips, rubbing against the growing bulge in his pants. He nuzzles his face against your neck, pressing feather-light kisses there, and you can feel his hot breath against your skin. "Not fair," he mumbles between kisses. "You know I can't think straight when you do that..."

He spins you around, taking another long look at you. You look incredible in just his shirt, and he can't resist you any longer - he's pushing you against the nearest wall, his mouth on your neck and hands all over your body. He mumbles praises against your skin, trying his best to still be suave and poetic even when all he can think about is you.

The makeout session lasts for as long as both of you can stand it, both of you quickly growing more and more needy. Soon Lyney is grinding against your hip, and you eventually have to push him off - he's so drunk on you that you know he'd keep going until he came in his pants without even realizing it, but you want more.

You lead him over to the nearest couch and he follows close behind you, eager to obey - and also to get another look at the way he can just barely glimpse your upper thighs beneath the shirt. His pants hit the floor almost immediately, and he breathes a sigh of relief at the freedom, then bites his lip to choke back a moan as you run your hand across his length.

He's pushed down into the couch, and he looks up at you with that delightful lustdrunk look you've come to anticipate. His face is flushed and he looks oh so eager as he reaches for you, gripping the front of the shirt and pulling you down to kiss him again.

You waste no time climbing into his lap and sinking down on him. He feels so good inside of you, but what you feel can't compare to what you see and hear - the low whine that escapes his throat, the way his head falls back momentarily as you sink lower until he's fully sheathed within you.

It's hot and passionate as the two of you get tangled up together, bodies pressed so close there's no space left between you. Despite his desperation, Lyney controls himself, doing everything within his power to make you feel good, to make you whine his name. You, on the other hand, want nothing more than to hear his voice hitch as he moans, and you don't stop until he's practically unable to string a sentence together without whimpering or moaning your name.

Once you finally go over the edge, the way you cry out his name, throbbing around him, he can't hold it back a second longer - he bites your shoulder as his orgasm washes over him, muffling the noises he makes as he nearly blacks out from the intense pleasure. When he comes down, he's trembling in your arms while you stroke his hair, telling him how incredible he is, and he's never felt better.

Writing Masterlist 🐝 Requests Open! Tag List 🐝 @mossmosis

[oetscop]

this is kinda old and i almost didnt post it. i kinda gave up on making a full rainer ref like i did with daniel soooo take this ^}^

this is after 1997 and before 2000 when he went missing for good.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Quest for a Cure (LU in Healthcare War Era)

Sicktember prompt 2 is here! :D @hermitdrabbles56 @socialc1imb I know you wanted to see this plot. :)

(AO3 link)

His entire body hurt so much. It wasn’t the worst pain he’d ever been in, but by heaven it was unpleasant. What was more alarming, though, was the distinct sense of dread that was steadily building in his stomach, a knowledge of oncoming darkness that couldn’t be pierced, a strange peace and anxiety fighting for control as something so unquestionably inevitable slowly edged ever closer.

Time swallowed thickly, trying to open his eyes. By all things holy, I certainly am being dramatic this evening.

Yes. Yes, he was just being dramatic. That’s what the logical side of his brain was saying, at least. The side that was desperately trying to maintain control as it slipped through his fingers. The rest of his mind was registering how utterly weak he was, how he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in at least two days (from what he could reckon), how someone was at his side constantly, how this virus had hit others and was more than capable of snuffing out its victims.

The darkness was pierced with light, dim and flickering—he really needed to change that lightbulb, didn’t he?—and he saw three silhouettes over him.

Saria? Sheik? No, none of the figures matched their physiques. The blurred edges of those over him started to clear, just enough for him to see familiar faces.

His Lost Boys.

Warriors, Sky, and Wind were watching him with varying expressions of concern. Wind’s eyes were wide and worried, fear evident in his constricted brow. Sky was more distant, anxiety held at bay by sheer force of will but still clearly showing through his expressive face, however muted he tried to make it. Warriors just looked exhausted, a dread shrouding him and making him look far older than he actually was.

Time tried to smile, but he knew it looked as strained as it felt. “What’s with the long faces?”

“You’re definitely not going to work today, old man,” Warriors said with a carefully light tone. “I see the night didn’t treat you well.”

“Are you feeling any better than before? You look awful,” Wind asked, his voice trembling.

Time swallowed thickly. He’d physically been through worse, he knew, but…

He was a trauma surgeon. He fixed things. A laceration was simple, an illness…

Damn it all. There was a reason he didn’t go into internal medicine. He hated how helpless he felt. He hated how scared his boys looked. He hated how he knew in his bones that this was not going to be an easy illness to overcome… assuming he would even overcome it.

“I’ll be up and about soon, Nugget,” Time answered to reassure them, even if he was lying through his teeth. Wind brown uncurled a hair, the tension in his face releasing for a moment, and Time thought he’d almost succeeded. Sky and Warriors, on the other hand, had hardly changed their expressions.

“Please try to rest,” Sky said so softly that Time almost missed it entirely.

Time watched the boy and stretched a trembling hand out to take his. Sky slowly took it. His hand felt so warm in Time’s frozen grip that it brought a little sigh of relief through the surgeon’s lips.

He wanted to say something, anything. Some anxious thought in the back of his mind said this might be his last chance to do so. He really didn’t appreciate the sentiment behind that, but…

If it was his time, then it was his time, he supposed. His gaze passed theirs, up to the ceiling. You have lousy timing, you know. Why would you take me away now, when I have children to look after? To finally find companionship and family, to finally find a purpose once more, to finally feel as if I belong, only to be ripped away and leave them bereft… what a terrible fate.

Despite his ire at the situation, despite his worry for his boys, Time felt his eyes closing once more, and the darkness consumed him.

As the surgeon’s eyes closed and he let out a shaky breath, the three others in the room tensed once more. Sky hated feeling how limp Time’s hold was on his hand, and he stepped away, hugging himself as Wind slid in to replace him. He took a fortifying, slow breath, leaning against the doorway while Warriors took the washcloth from Time’s forehead and dipped it in a bowl of ice water.

“So is he feeling better…?” Wind questioned hesitantly, suddenly not so sure of Time’s reassurance.

“No,” Warriors answered curtly, and Sky winced. The nurse was clearly not pleased with what he was seeing, and it made Sky worry even more.

“You think it’s going to get that bad?” Sky asked hesitantly, his voice quiet.

Warriors sighed as he wrung the cloth out. “I don’t know. I’ve seen it sweeping through barracks, though. It hits everyone to varying degrees. Some people just feel run down and bedridden, and others…”

The rest of his sentence hung heavily in the air.

Wind burst out, “But you guys are medical people! There’s a hospital right here!”

“It’s a field hospital, kiddo,” Warriors clarified as he wiped the sweat off Time’s brow once more. “We stabilize, do emergency surgeries, and then ship them somewhere more equipped to handle a long-term stay and recovery. Besides, the medicine to treat this virus is expensive, they’re not going to ship it out here unless it’s taking out the troops in droves, and it isn’t. Time wouldn’t be staying here, and his illness isn’t something we have medicine for. Either he’s going to get through it or someone will fly him out of here.”

Sky shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t usually fly people from the field hospital to the fully equipped military hospital in the Gerudo capital. He hadn’t seen a piece of land that wasn’t involved in the conflict since he’d finished basic training. The capital was very much in a safe location and therefore not his priority. Time would be protected there, but…

“We’d never see him again! What if they transfer him from there or something?!” Wind exclaimed.

“You don’t know that—” Warriors tried to reassure, but now the teenager was frantic.

“No! This is stupid, why does everyone have to keep leaving—” Wind growled, turning towards the door, and then he stopped with a heavy sigh. “I’m… I’m sorry. I know you’re dealing with a lot.”

“It’s okay, Sailor,” Warriors replied with a kind smile, though Wind didn’t see it.

Sky looked between the pair, and then his eyes settled on Time’s pale face, already drenched once again in sweat. He wasn’t winning this fight and Sky knew it. Thoughts clouded his mind so much he couldn’t put words to them or string a coherent sentence together. He settled for putting a gentle, reassuring hand on Wind’s shoulder.

Then sudden clarity struck him. His lips pressed firmly against each other, and his fingers curled into Wind’s shoulder, catching the teenager’s attention. Sky motioned towards the hallway with his head.

“We’ll be back later,” Sky said to Warriors, who gave a simple nod.

When the door to Time’s room closed, Wind said, “I know I shouldn’t have yelled. Can we do something to help them, though? I can bring Wars food or something.”

“I have a better idea,” Sky said, a smile starting to pull at his lips. “This virus is pretty common to this area. Which means somebody has to have medicine for it closer than the capital. I think the nearest enemy camp in the town ought to be a good place to start.”

Wind gasped, immediately catching on to what Sky was implying. “Hell yeah! I know all the ways to get in there too!”

Sky smiled as the boy’s face practically glowed. There were likely a hundred rules Sky was breaking in even suggesting this, but he didn’t care. Time was seriously ill, and Sky knew the enemy had to have medicine for such a thing. Sure, the local village might not have it, nor would their military base, but many of the enemies they were fighting here were locals, and they had been dealing with this for ages. He also knew from flybys where their nearby camp was – the nearest one, at least, and the one that was based in a town, which meant it likely had the medicine.

And he had a kid who knew how to sneak in and out of said encampment.

It was time to help their friend.

Sky guided Wind to his own quarters. His roommate thankfully was out, which gave him the opportunity to plan things out somewhere as private as possible. He quickly pulled out desert camouflage attire, putting it on and glancing at Wind, who waved him off.

“I’m small, I sneak in and out of there without it all the time,” the kid reassured him with a smile. His easy confidence both amused Sky and made him uneasy. For a moment he realized the gravity of what he was asking of a fourteen-year-old. Time’s pain-stricken face floated into his mind, though, and his anxieties over losing him overruled the concern. Besides, Wind had said it himself – he’d snuck in and out plenty of times. It wasn’t fair to ask this of the kid, but Sky did have to wonder how well they’d fare if the army utilized Wind to take the enemy base down entirely.

That was a matter for another day. Sky couldn’t eliminate an entire enemy base, but he could sneak into one.

But just in case, he packed two pistols and his semi-automatic gun. Just in case. And maybe a sniper rifle.

Wind did, under mild protest, get a camouflage jacket from Sky, both for the elder teenager’s sanity and because the desert was frigid at night.

The pair snuck by the guards rather easily—unnervingly easy, Sky would have to bring this up later—and began their long trek through the desert.

“How long does it usually take to get to the town?” Sky asked before adding out of curiosity, “And why do you sneak in there so much? You know they can kill you, right?”

“It’s like an hour walk from here with the route I take,” Wind answered. At Sky’s alarmed expression, he added, “It’s not a route that vehicles can drive. We’re gonna be climbing. A lot. Hope you can hold on to all your guns.”

“Speaking of which,” Sky said, holding out a pistol and a machete. “Do not use these unless you absolutely have to. Got it?”

Wind reached out hesitantly. Sky quickly asked, “You do know how to shoot, right?”

Wind gave him bewildered, somewhat exasperated look. “Why the hell would I know how to shoot?”

Great. Maybe just the machete, then. “I don’t know, you’ve been wandering a war zone for so long now I figured you had something up your sleeve to defend yourself.”

“I do!” Wind replied excitedly, pulling out a boomerang. “This baby’s helped me out in tough times!”

“Huh.” Sky gazed at the boomerang curiously. “That’s different.”

“It works!”

Sky shrugged. Whatever worked, he supposed.

The adolescent pair continued into the desert night, a chilly wind trying to tear through them. Wind’s path quickly went off the main road, and Sky did indeed find himself climbing nearly sheer cliffs, gripping whatever flora had managed to creep along its walls. He started sweating quickly, feeling his stamin fall, but they managed to reach the top before his grip gave out. Their journey was mostly spent in silence aside from Wind giving pointers on footing, giving Sky plenty of time to formulate different plans.

This medicine had to be in a clinic or hospital. Which meant they’d have to get to that point. Then they’d have to figure out how to sneak into such a facility. It was a good thing he had thought to swipe a few items that Wars had left lying around.

Wind held up his hand suddenly, making Sky freeze. Then the kid cackled, pulling out his phone. “Gotta do the obligatory pre-break-in selfie.”

“Wind!” Sky hissed. “I could get court martialed for this, no pictures!”

“Oh come on!” Wind argued. “I’m not dumb, I don’t share this stuff! These pictures are to show my grandma and sister when I find them, that’s all.”

Sky sighed heavily. To hell with it. Pulling down the black mask that was covering his face he gave a strained smile as Wind winked at the camera with a peace sign.

The edge of the town was surrounded by stone walls. The only entrance in and out was flanked with multiple armed guards. Sky looked at Wind hesitantly, and the kid had the audacity to smirk. Sky was almost proud of him.

Wind moved towards the alpha side of the town wall, pointing to a spot that seemed darker than the rest of the surrounding area. “A lot of places here have old leftovers from way back when. This town’s got old sewage system that they don’t really use, it’s kind of more just runoff for… I don’t know, I guess they get rain sometimes. Either way, we can get in that way because they don’t really use it anymore.”

“And nobody’s guarding it?” Sky asked curiously.

“There’s, like, one guy. And he’s so freaking bored. He plays games on his phone.”

Sky snorted out a laugh and then followed his friend. The pathway was a little muddy, implying that something usually ran through here. It didn’t have a terrible odor to it, though it wasn’t great. Sky clutched his gun tightly as Wind peered around a corner and motioned for him to follow. The mud squelched too loudly for his liking, and with as on edge as he was feeling…

These people wouldn’t hesitate to hurt them. He’d seen what they were capable of. They’d shot down a medical helicopter for heaven’s sake. Still, if Wind had managed to sneak in and out…

Wind pointed silently, and Sky saw the guard in question. He squinted, staring at the man’s phone. Was that Angry Birds?

Slowly, Sky put his gun away, letting it rest on his back, and the pair scooted forward. The man sat close to the entrance, but not directly beside it. If he stayed engrossed in his game, they might actually have a chance. Wind snuck out first, quick and silent. Sky followed suit, feeling his stomach clench so tightly he thought he could throw up, but neither caught the guard’s attention.

Great. Great. They were in the city. Sky let out a subtle laugh, shaking the jitters off as they slipped into an alley. Now all they had to do was find a clinic or hospital or—

Oh, that giant building with the medical symbol ought to do nicely.

“What are you usually doing when you sneak in here?” Sky asked, suddenly curious.

Wind shrugged. “Looking for my sister and grandma. But they don’t really have refugee locations or prisoners here or anything.”

Sky felt his heart hurt. This kid was so determined to find his family. It was no wonder he was desperate not to lose anyone else.

“They’ve got curfews and stuff here,” Wind noted. “Since they turned the whole place into a base and all.”

There went Sky’s next thought to just blend in with the civilians. He supposed they would have to sneak around everywhere, then.

Maneuvering to get to the hospital wasn’t too terrible – the majority of the guards were posted along the walls rather than through the streets. The hospital was a fairly small one, but still more of an official medical institution than the field hospital Sky flew people to. He grabbed Wind by the shoulder and motioned to a bag he’d brought along.

“What’s that?” Wind asked hesitantly.

Reaching in, Sky pulled out a pair of scrubs and smiled mischievously.

Wind’s eyes brightened. “We’re posing as nurses!”

“I am,” Sky corrected. “You won’t fit in Wars’ clothes.”

“How did you get his scrubs?”

“Lost a bet. He wanted me to do his laundry as punishment.”

“…Did you clean them first?”

Sky tilted his head with a sheepish smile. “Well… point is, I have scrubs.”

Wind raised a cautious eyebrow. “So then what about me…?”

Sky’s smile grew more devious.

Ten minutes later, a security guard was knocked unconscious and dragged away, tied and gagged (with a bonus unconscious selfie with Wind winking and Sky looking mildly exasperated), and a wheelchair was acquired as a nurse wheeled his pediatric patient into the hospital.

“Okay, so we need to find the pharmacy,” Wind whispered. “That’s where the medicine would be, right?”

“We need to know what the medicine is first,” Sky replied quietly. “The only way to do that is for you to have that virus.”

Wind gave a quick huh? And then gasped with an oh! And proceeded to start fake coughing so hard the veins in his neck bulged.

“Easy, sailor,” Sky said worriedly, but Wind waved him off. When they stopped at the emergency department doors, Sky got himself together and waved sheepishly at the triage tech. “Forgot my badge, sorry. Mind letting me in?”

The triage tech rolled her eyes good naturedly and walked over. “You’re on the struggle bus tonight, buddy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sky replied with a chuckle as he wheeled Wind in.

“So uh, what’s this virus called anyway?” Wind whispered as Sky found an empty room to put him in.

“I know the colloquial term is Sand Fever,” Sky said, pausing. “But I don’t know its actual name. I’m hoping that’s enough, though.”

If there was one thing Sky knew he could rely on, it was the chaos in the emergency department. He went to registration and put on a show how there was no paperwork for this new patient and gave her false information for a face sheet. She noted that he hadn’t been triaged, according to the paperwork, and Sky said he had, actually, he was in bad enough shape that they were going to get the info once they brought him back, which wasn’t unheard of for critical patients.

So one false paperwork bracelet later, Sky and Wind found themselves awaiting a physician’s examination for the presumed serious case of Sand Fever. Wind really played it up as much as he could, and it certainly worked well enough that the physician was willing to do a test for the virus. As soon as she left, Sky asked Wind, “How did you fake wheezing? Like this whole thing definitely has my heart rate and blood pressure up, but I can’t fake wheezing.”

Wind huffed, almost proudly, but then he wilted a little uncertainly. “I… don’t know. I tried hard, though.”

Sky’s confidence in the situation faltered a moment, quivering like a freshly hatched chick. Wait…

Dread filled him, and he slowly walked out of the room. He wandered the emergency department to get a lay of the land and distract himself, keeping close enough that he could rush to Wind’s room if anyone suspected anything. He felt incredibly exposed all of a sudden.

After maybe his third lap around the unit, the physician from earlier stopped him. “I put in orders for the Velkisen. Give him an initial dose and then I’ll write a script for pharmacy to fill.”

Sky blinked. What? “Uh, yeah. Okay.”

He repeated the name over and over. Velkisen. Velkisen.

Wait. Was that… was that the antiviral medication? Was… did that mean…?

“Shit,” Sky swore, going back to Wind’s room.

Wind perked up immediately, having been anxiously fiddling with the blanket provided to him. He also immediately could read Sky’s expression and knew something was wrong. “What is it?”

“You’ve got Sand Fever,” Sky said.

Wind blinked. Then he said, “Wow. Okay. That makes sense for the wheezing and achiness.”

“You’re achy and didn’t say anything?!”

Wind stood, crossing his arms defensively. “What differnce does it make? It doesn’t affect everyone the same, clearly I’m not as bad off! So what if I got it from Time! He needs the medicine.”

Sky groaned. “Well, we’re in luck because—”

A script! They were going to get a script!! All Sky had to do was fudge the amount of pills they would need, he could double or trip it, and they could get out of here with everything they needed from the hospital pharmacy!

…Assuming the pharmacist didn’t question it.

And he needed to get the initial dose apparently.

Sky advised Wind to wait and turned quickly, asking another nurse to let him into the medication room because of his supposedly forgotten badge. That wouldn’t get him into the actual dispenser, though, and he knew that. He had to figure out something.

Wait. He knew a trick he’d seen Warriors done a few times to override for medication. All it took was swiping some aspirin out of someone’s bag. Then he poked another nurse. “Hey, I need to return this medication, but it’s not popping up for me. Do you mind checking for me?”

The nurse shrugged and popped in easily enough, and Sky once again felt guilty at how he was abusing the camaraderie that emergency personnel showed each other.

The nurse logged into the dispenser and asked, “What’s the med called?”

“Vil—Vilkon—Vel—”

“Velkisen?”

“Yes! That’s the one.”

The nurse tossed him a look with a smirk. “Long night?”

Sky laughed nervously. “Yeah. I keep tripping over my words.”

“What’s the patient’s name?”

“Last name is Tingle.”

“Looks like it hasn’t even been dispensed.”

Sky made a humming sound and gently pushed by the nurse to look at the screen. “Weird. Well, I guess I’ll just pull it again, then.”

He tapped the medicine name with his finger, and a drawer popped open. When a compartment opened inside, awaiting his removal of the medication inside, he hesitated.

This was an intravenous medicine. He could immediately tell from the vial. There was no way he was administering this to Wind, even if the boy needed it. He grabbed it nonetheless – hopefully it could help Time. The script ought to provide more anyway. With a nod to the other nurse, he quickly made his way back to Wind, who was just finishing a conversation with the doctor.

“How old did you tell them I was, anyway? She hasn’t once asked about a parent,” Wind noted as Sky hastily slid the door closed.

“Eighteen,” Sky answered easily before pulling out the medicine. “Did you get the script?”

Wind waved the paper triumphantly. “I sure did! Tripled the dose, too. Now we just wait until I get discharged?”

“No,” Sky immediately said. “Too much paperwork, too many questions, too easy for people to figure out something’s off. Let’s head for the pharmacy now.”

“That means we have to sneak by the nurses too.”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet! Best night ever! We’re like spies!”

Sky sighed heavily, feeling exhausted. They were going to be dead spies if they weren’t careful. “Let’s go.”

Wind snapped one more selfie, showing his hospital wristband, and then nearly skipped over in delight. The pair tried to look as innocuous as possible as they casually slipped out of the room and into a hallway before following a transporter through locked doors and peeling off to head towards the signs indicating pharmacy.

It was honestly unnerving how easy it was, even if Sky felt like he was going to have a heart attack at any moment. He was going to ask Wind how the kid was so excited, but the more he watched him, the more he saw the nervous ticks, the way the younger one’s hands were shaking, the way his eyes were constantly on alert. Wind was just as scared as he was, but he expressed it through excited jitters.

The pharmacy tech filled the prescription after an agonizing few minutes, and before they knew it, they were slinking through the basement of the hospital with pockets full of pills.

“I hope this is enough,” Sky muttered as they found their tied up security guard. The man was wiggling now, trying to yell over the gag Sky had secured over his mouth. Sky grabbed his bag of supplies, changing out of his scrubs and back into his uniform as Wind threw the spare camouflage jacket back on and ripped off his hospital bracelet, pocketing it. Then Sky grabbed the butt of the gunstock and slammed it into the man’s temple, knocking him out once more. He then untied the guard so he could awaken and get actual help when they’d left.

But he should have known. This mission had been all too easy. Something had to go wrong.

It was blissfully late in the game. They had gotten back to the Angry Birds guard, who had now taken position directly in front of the entrance to their escape route. The pair came up with a plan quickly, and Sky waltzed up to the guard.

“Nice score,” he commented with a smile, and the guard jumped, registered the sight in front of him, and promptly got clocked on the head by a boomerang that he’d missed due to Sky’s distraction. A solid punch to the face did the rest of the work.

Unfortunately, it was time for the soldier to check in based on the radio traffic. Sky grabbed his gun, hissing for Wind to run ahead, and the pair tore into the tunnel. By the time they’d reached the other side, alarms were blaring.

“Head for the cliffs!” Sky yelled. If they could clear them they’d at lease be out of sight.

Instead, a spotlight shone right on them. Wind yelled, running faster. Sky whirled, firing his rifle at the light source, blinking rapidly to see his target. A few blind shots in the general direction eliminated the spotlight, but it also gave away their position just as well.

“Climb! Now!!” he ordered, slipping behind a boulder to give cover fire.

Wind scrambled up the rocks, flinching as gunfire peppered the area around him, though it primarily honed in on Sky’s general location. Sky fired off rapidly, praying he hit at least a few targets or warded them away long enough.

“I’m over!” Wind called. “Come on!”

“I’ll follow you, just go!!”

“Sky—”

“GO!”

Any argument Wind might have had was covered by the wound of bullets slamming into stone, sending dust and tiny, sharp rocks flying. Sky prayed the kid listened. You have the medicine, Wind. Save Time and yourself.

The distinct sound of a gave opening caught his attention, as well as motors. Sky turned his head and saw two motorcyclists tearing out of the main entrance to the town. They wouldn’t be able to get to Wind in the higher terrain, but they could chase him down until he reached the end of the cliffs. Taking a steadying breath, he peered out from his shelter and fired, managing to pick one rider off, leaving their bike spinning out of control.

Their bike.

Sky held his breath and ran. Bullets sprayed the ground around him, creating a trail as the gunner tried to keep up with his steps. Sky nearly slammed into the bike, throwing a leg over and gunning it with all his might.

Drawing close to the cliffs, he screamed out Wind’s name. After the third attempt, he saw the blonde head poking over some stone, the only thing visible about him. Wind immediately perked up, but then he pointed and shouted in warning. Sky turned and saw the other cyclist approaching, gun in hand.

Pulling out one of the pistols he had tucked into his side, Sky fired once, twice, thrice, and the soldier fell. He moved towards the cliff again. “JUMP!”

Wind ran alongside him and leapt without hesitation, arms and legs splayed out wide. Sky reached out for him, managing to catch the falling teenager and helping him climb onto the bike between the pilot and the handles.

“Hold on tight!” He instructed as they tore into the night. Wind kept a continuous lookout, and Sky’s head turned so much it might as well have been on a swivel, but they had gotten enough of a lead to outmaneuver anyone on foot, and Wind started pointing out trails off the main road before any other vehicles could exit the base.

Sky revved the engine again, watching as they accelerated to speeds in the triple digits, and Wind laughed almost as loudly as his namesake that was whipping through their hair. The farther they got from the town, the more infectious the laughter became, and eventually Sky himself was whooping and screaming in delight.

We made it.

XXX

The room felt so quiet. So empty. So cold.

Warriors slumped in his seat, alone with his thoughts. Time had long since fallen asleep, breathing disturbingly shallow. It was high time he take him to the hospital. It was high time he get transported somewhere that could better handle this, assuming it wasn’t too late already.

It was silly, really, to assume such a thing. Time had only been sick a couple days. It had just slammed him all at once. He hadn’t become altered to such a degree until tonight. Some part of Warriors’ brain insisted on taking care of him here, in the barracks, as if telling himself the situation as fine would actually make it so.

But he’d waited long enough. He wasn’t going to risk Time’s life over his desperate attempt to placate his mind. Time would go to the hospital in the capital and be treated and he would be fine. Never mind how quickly he was deteriorating. He would be fine.

He fell apart in forty-eight hours. Will he last the flight? Will they even think it’s worth flying him? Will they risk a pilot, a flight crew, a helicopter to transport someone who might already be too far gone?

Is this my fault for not taking him to the hospital sooner?

Warriors was usually better than this. He could figure out when a situation was going south, he could distance his emotions from the situation. This should be no different.

Except it was different. Because he’d already lost others, and just the mere thought of Time leaving sent him spiraling.

Impa. Lana. Oh fuck, Lana.

Warriors blinked tears away, tried to regulate his breathing. It was time to get moving. He tried not to look at Time, tried to think he was just taking a patient, grabbed his radio to call for an ambulance, when the door to the room slammed open with such intensity it nearly took it off its hinges.

Shooting to his feet, Warriors stumbled and knocked over the chair he’d been sitting on, taking in the sight before him. Sky and Wind were in front of him, breathless, excited, covered in sand and sweat and—was that a smear of blood?! They were wearing camouflage, and Sky was sporting multiple weapons in different holsters.

Warrior felt his body grow cold. “What. Did. You. Do.”

The pair immediately dug into their pockets, hands emerging bearing pill bottles and a vial. Their eyes shone with hope, twinkling brightly like stars in their filthy faces. “We got medicine.”

The nurse’s brain immediately put the pieces together, and his body found itself in a strange, bewildering, clashing state of relief and horror. “You stupid bastards.”

Their laughter at his words was not appreciated.

“You could’ve gotten yourselves killed!”

“Medicine!” Sky barked as if issuing an order, interrupting Warriors tirade.

The nurse snatched the medication, still glaring at the pair. “We’re not done here, you hear me?”

He tore into his drawer to grab a syringe, a flush, and alcohol swabs. The medication, according to a quick internet search, was given IM, which simplified things. He was still taking Time to the hospital, though. But injection first. Dosage check first. Reconfirm the route first.

Time didn’t flinch as Warriors gave the shot. Sky was already on the radio calling an ambulance. Wind was smiling in the corner, looking like a triumphant little imp.

They were imps. Warriors was going to have a freaking heart attack. The lecture he had in store for them would certainly be enough to make them think twice before doing anything like this ever again.

Good Lord. If Time’s illness doesn’t kill me, these two surely will.

XXX

Waking up really shouldn’t have been this hard.

For whatever reason, Time was distinctly uncomfortable. The bed was too hard, blankets too warm, skin too itchy, joints too sore. As he fluttered his eyes open, he swallowed and coughed at the dry sensation at the back of his throat.

What had…? Where was…?

Wait.

Sitting up, Time felt the room spin a hair, paused, and then resumed what he was doing.

“Easy, old man.”

Warriors. That was Warriors.

Glancing to his left, Time saw the army nurse watching him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Warriors gave a small, relieved smile, and it temporarily hid the dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re okay!” Came from his other side, and immediately Time felt Sky’s hand on his other shoulder as the teenager helped guide him back to his pillow.

“I’m… okay,” Time affirmed, actually feeling like it could potentially be true. He felt… not great, but also not the way he had before. The growing dread, the bone-weary exhaustion, the haziness… they were all gone.

He marveled at it a moment. Couldn’t quite believe it himself. He’d been so sure that…

Well. He supposed even surgeons could be wrong.

“Time!”

Wind practically leapt onto the bed, held in check by the other two, but not even Warriors and Sky could stop him when Time held out his arms invitingly. Wind tore into his embrace, practically flattening him into the bed as Time chuckled, relief flooding his body.

“It’s good to see you boys,” he whispered, tears leaking out of his eyes and disappearing into Wind’s hair.

[might-be-a-potato]

was in the mood for some painting last night and thought I'd go back to an old favorite :)

tw: blood under the cut (dried blood)

[once-in-a-half-life]

my friend and I have developed a sort of "tradition" or something where we doodle a little G-Man on each other's mirrors whenever we visit each other lol

the first three are mine, the rest is hers (featuring Gordon Freeman in his hev suit that she drew from memory haha)

[sharonwritess]

Somedays I feel horrible when I miss him and somedays I feel guilty when I don't miss him.

-sharon

[fluffle-writes]

I wanna. Pick them up in my mouth and shake 'em around like a dog obliterating a squeaky toy

[theangrypomeranian]

Baby Steps sequel now has a rough outline lfggggggggg

[damnation-if]

on today's episode of Hashing Out Concepts Theatre, i spent a while today while waiting for my new fridge/freezer to be installed after my previous one died and i lost all my food hashing out a bunch of concepts for another game idea i have. (rest assured i'm not actually working on it as a game yet i just like to bash out a framework for things every now and then to make my brain do happy chemicals lmao)

putting all of this stuff under a cut since it's a bunch of images and also in case people aren't interested XD

i am regrettably a huge fan of comic books (mostly DC) and i've seen a couple of comic book inspired IFs popping up lately, though when it comes to my own interest, i'm definitely more into a straight interpretation of a comic book universe than a more. the boys-style universe - i'm into the camp lol, not so much the grim and gritty stuff. (though that's just my own personal preference)

anyway the idea behind That's Just Super is something that i really like about certain comics - giving the villains more of a purpose and rounded existence than just existing to be in somebody's rogue's gallery. the joker's angry defence of the batfamily from various other DC evil forces, lex luthor's furious resistance against brainiac alongside superman because it's His planet, damn it, DOOM throwing in with the heroes in every second marvel event comic... i really like stories where villains and evil characters don't always make the Most Evil choice just Because, but have clear and explainable motivations that sometimes bring them into what we'd consider a 'good' alignment because unlike in d&d, there's no real such thing as a concrete moral alignment.

(this is my banner design for it)

the basic idea is that an inexplicable cosmic event removes all of the superheroes from the planet, leaving it vulnerable to attack by evil mindflayer style aliens - unless the supervillains who remain are able to band together despite their more unpredictable, less cooperative natures and save the planet in the heroes' absence. after all... if aliens take over the earth, the villains can't take it over themselves.

here's my fun little UI design idea lmao...

the other major thing about That's Just Super that i've been hashing out is the pc. the basic idea is that you pick your villain identity from a list but you get to customise their like. birth name and secret identity, while the villain identity comes with its own name, costume, and set history (including occasionally past romantic encounters). i like playing around with the way that IF works with the idea of mcs and customisable mcs so i just thought it'd be a fun twist... it also allows me to create nice drama by having set occurrences in the past lol.

so i did some profiles for the nine villain options - three each of the DC triad of tech/metahuman/magic origin. they're all based on a specific kind of villain archetype, and i really tried to limit myself to ones where i could definitely pin down more than one specific influence so it didn't end up like me just making too many analogues haha... even if some of the influences are probably pretty obvious.

weirdly i haven't even Thought about ROs yet since i've been so focussed on the pc... maybe i'll play around with the partially set background idea even more and only have 1 possible RO for each villain choice or something. maybe a couple that you can romance as anybody... not sure. (talionis could definitely have a messy broken romance with his superhero for example)

apologies that readability isn't great but these are mostly just made for me lmao

[celestialtrolls]

A single crystal with deep shade of purple juts out of the palm of your hand. It's beautiful. Symmetrical, without a single flaw, polished and clear.

With your other hand, you try and pick it up, but it clings onto your palm. You adjust your position as familiar frustration gnaws at your insides, gripping it firmly and yanking it off - but not without taking off the top layer of skin as you finally rip it away, the yelp in your throat strangled as you try to suppress it.

Well, flawless besides that.

Another failure. You toss this one off the side of the boat as well, joining the rest of the disappointments that you've created today at the bottom of the lake. Both palms now raw and on the verge of bleeding, the pain is too much for you to continue, and you finally collapse on the deck and stare up at the clear sky.

'You have the same sort of powers as our ancestor! She can make all kinds of things with these.' Aelynn had explained when you first started finding crystal formations growing out of your hands, back when the world was truly ending, although she was able to simply brush them away into dust without painfully ripping them off.

She had tried to hide it behind excitement on your behalf, but you heard the jealousy in her voice anyway, the undeniable proof that she didn't have the same abilities. She had continued, explaining all of the wonderful things that this 'Creator Ceremiré' was able to make, things that weren't even crystal anymore, 'that was just the base of it all'... But she hadn't understood the explanation at all, and so she wasn't able to pass that information on.

You did get some half-baked explanation about needing a deep understanding of molecular structure, but nothing more than that. And that's helped you make these perfect crystals, but it's useless without more to go off.

It wasn't intentional on her part, you know she would have shared if she could, even if she did carry any latent anger towards you, frustrated that she had only gotten half of the powers, the half that caused the fissures in her skin trailing up her arms, the shattering of her surroundings...

But it still makes your guts twist, knowing that you could be so close to finally being able to do something useful, having great untapped potential, but it was just out of reach.

Suits Carnival. The same one that had stolen your sister all those sweeps ago, but it wasn't the same either, now led by a Nostam, like yourself... But she didn't even know you existed.

'I don't know if it's a good idea for you to meet her. She doesn't like the fleet, and she's got an interesting temper - she's still a clown, she's unpredictable.' Aelynn's caution echoes in your memory. You knew there was more to this story that she wasn't telling you, but you knew from experience that your twin was not keen on talking about the things that had hurt her.

At the very least, you didn't think that she was trying to keep some sort of 'great destiny' away from you, she seemed to loathe the idea of going to see her herself; as you knew from her increasing anxiety about the constant invitations she was receiving.

Even so... you sigh deeply, your breath forming a dense cloud in the air. So what, should you simply give up on the one thing you could call your own power? It doesn't sit right.

You won't wonder what the worst that could happen would be, visiting that place, but surely, it's better than never knowing. Surely. Surely?

Queen of Hearts, Ceremiré Nostam of Suits Carnival. Would she be okay with someone like you as her descendant? Would she tolerate you at least so you could observe her? You had to know.

You have to find out.

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: boy you really would’ve thought I’d have posted these by now

[alistonjdrake]

A Woman Of No Importance: A Look Into the Political and Sex Lives of Medieval Women All Tied With a Nice Enemies-to-Lovers bow

It was a surprisingly warm and pleasant morning on the day Cierra buried her husband.

Twenty years ago, Cierra Dimmock and Princess Mathilde were rivals in the midst of a bloody game of intrigue and court manners. One a standing regent struggling to keep her grasp on the court and the other the new, foreign wife of a prominent duke. Their feud resulted in one being jailed and the other humiliated. Now, the tables have turned and Cierra is a wealthy widow and Dowager Duchess while Princess Mathilde is an exile looking for political asylum while an army hunts her down. In a moment of pity, Cierra allows her old enemy to spend the night in her home. Their fates will be sealed by morning and this decision could cost both women their lives.

A court intrigue fantasy story based off the early medieval period, told in part through a land deeds, religious scripture, diplomatic letters, diaries of courtiers, legal disputes, and Cierra’s own narration. A Woman Of No Importance tells the story of two women who hate each other but when one takes refuge in the other’s home for a single night, they finally have the chance to get to the root of what went so wrong between them all those years ago. 

I have no tags or pages for this or anything. I’m just working on another novella because I’m on a medieval kick and my special interest is middle-aged women who despise one another