#and had a sending of some will o wisps

[glossolali]

souperdeep session 5 no context

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[timidpumpkin]

Can I get a reaction when reader want to go to carnival or other fun places and then they got lost and ended up at their own home

Is the reader going to escape or go back to their daddies TYSM🤗

Hiiii🥰🥰🥰💜💜💜. I loved this idea sooo much and it really helped get me out of the writer's block funk I was in! It’s a litttle bit different from what you asked so I hope that’s okay and you still like it!! Thank you so so much, I loved writing this!!~~~~~💖💖💖💖💖

(pictures are not my own)

Helpless (Stucky x reader)

Pairing: Dark!Stucky x f!reader

Warnings/tags: Dark!Stucky, Daddy!Stucky, Female reader, stockholm syndrome, forced age regression, mention of previous kidnapping, reader gets lost, mild injury to reader, Implied reader has small hands in comparison because Stucky is gigantic (fact), Angst, Fluff, Comfort. Reader baby-talks as well, Lots o' cute nicknames (as usual).

Word count: 4.1k

Tagging a few of the absolutely lovely people who have supported me this whole time. I love you and appreciate you all more than i can express. @haleyhunwritess @ppatricia34me @hoplessfussybambi @canyonmooncreations @sapphyslittlenook

P.S. i'm gonna start a tag list so lemme know if you wanna be added <3

It was getting a bit cooler now. 

The previously bright day had been overtaken by navy shadows that bring nippy wisps of air that catch on your exposed arms, sending chills throughout you. 

“I told you we should have used the long-sleeved one,” Steve remarks to Bucky as he watches you make a tiny shiver.

Bucky rolls his eyes at him, knowing you were the one who insisted on this specific onesie when he dressed you this afternoon. With an eager look on your face, you held it up to him, proudly showing him how it would match perfectly with some leg warmers you found in your drawer. He couldn’t argue with that, not when your giddy smile and sweet eyes looked at him while holding it up as high as you could for him.

“Come here babydoll,” Bucky says, squatting down a bit to get closer to your level. 

You don't hear him for a second. Not even your numbed fingertips could distract you from the bright lights that reflect off your eyes. You’ve been watching the multicolored Ferris wheel since you got here. You wanted to go on it so bad. 

Thus far, you’ve only been allowed to play the ground games. Though, you can’t complain too much now that you’ve collected quite a load of new stuffies to bring home. You’d like to think yourself pretty talented at these games–maybe too talented. 

You’ve all but completely missed the harsh glares Bucky gives the poor workers when they tell you “awh too bad” when you miss the target, but then proceed to hand you whichever stuffed animal or toy you’d been wanting anyway. You’d turn around to your daddies, excitingly showing them your prize and proudly exclaiming “I won! I won!” and Bucky would always tell you how good of a job you did every time.

“Babydoll?” Bucky calls again, bringing you back to reality, his voice sweet, as if he’s teasing you a bit, knowing how much you've enjoyed this outing.

It was a tough call. Bringing you here. They knew how much you wanted to go. Ever since Peter babbled on and on about his trip to the carnival at his birthday party a few months ago, you’ve been begging them ever since. It’s not that they didn't want to take you. It could never be that. They just weren’t sure if it would be safe…

“There’s all kinds of creeps at those things!” Steve argues to Bucky, turning around as if that’s the last word and final say about it. 

“I know. I know. But…she really wants to go. Plus…it’s not like we’ll ever let her out of our sight.” Bucky tries to reason, knowing it was something they would enjoy too. He has several fond memories of dragging Steve along with him through the bustling crowds of people just so he could play–and win–all the games he could, always asking Steve which prize he wanted before promising him he’d win it on the first try. Long before he knew of what true cruelties lived beyond their hometown, Bucky had already mastered the art of staring down unfair showmen who would poke fun at Steve’s then narrower figure.

Bucky just couldn’t help the almost giddy feeling he got just at the idea of holding you up high while you throw one of those balls with all your might to win some oversized stuffed animal that you’d undoubtedly insist on carrying on your own despite it being twice your height.

“We could even get one of those leash things,” he suggests, the idea popping into his mind like it’s the most brilliant thing, remembering how he showed the leashed froggy backpack he saw a while ago to Steve.

“It’s not just that,” Steve admits, brows furrowed as he sits on the edge of the bed, a sad and worried look overtaking his features that makes Bucky want to cave to anything he’d ask. “what if…” he trails off, not meeting Bucky’s gaze, “what if…she tries to run off?” he says quietly as if the fear itself would be brought to life if he spoke it too loudly. 

It had been a long while since you tried to run away. All things considered, you seemed to be fully adjusted now. Every so often you would act up, but only in the way that all little girls would every now and then. They would always punish you appropriately, the way all good daddies would, reminding you that your life with them is your life, and that the horrid life you had before you was one never meant for a sweet innocent little girl like you. 

They saved you. Steve routinely reminded you as such, but he didn’t have to. Bucky could tell you knew it was true now just by the way your bright eyes greeted them every morning. You knew that you were only good and safe with them to take care of you. His little girl couldn't even function without them now. It was exactly how it was supposed to be.

Bucky thinks for a moment, walking closer to Steve and kneeling on the floor in front of him. He pushes his way into him, maneuvering himself between Steve’s legs, and scoops his distressed hands into his, kissing them both before looking back up to Steve. 

“She won’t.” he says, thick air questioning if it's true. 

But his words say more than just that. The meaningful look in Bucky’s eyes tell Steve that no matter what, they’ll always have you. And that there was no way you could get away from them. Bucky knew it wasn't just the fear of physically losing you, but the fear of hurt that they would feel if you even tried. 

Steve smiles a bit, his hands pulling Bucky up so that he’s now standing between his legs. He takes his hands, sliding them down from Bucky’s sides to his hips where they rest for the moment. 

“Alright,” Steve sighs, looking up to Bucky, and pulling him a bit closer by his belt loops, “but any sign of trouble, we leave” Steve states, seriousness in his tone, the same kind of voice he uses when they’re on missions together. 

“As if it would be any other way.” Bucky remarks, a smirk teasing his face as he dips his head down a bit to meet his lips with Steve’s. Steve sighs into his kiss, feeling the tension leaving his body just by Bucky’s stable words and secure presence.

“You think too much Rogers” Bucky teases after breaking from the kiss, thinking of all the times Steve would try to worm his way out of Bucky having to go on a mission with him in fear of his partner getting hurt–whether it be mentally or physically–Steve couldn't bare the thought of having to see Bucky like he was when he saw him for the first time in this new world. 

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, Bucky never ceasing to take his breath away from his all-encompassing kisses. “I love you two more than anything,” he says earnestly as if it’s the only known fact in the universe. 

“I know” Bucky smiles, “I know.”

“Oh-sorry Daddy!” you turn around, not meaning to ignore him. He holds out a sweatshirt and you instinctively hold up your arms so he can help put it on you. “Did you see the Ferris wheel Daddy?” you ask excitingly for the third time that night. Bucky chuckles a bit. 

“Yes, I did,” he answers as if it’s the first he’s hearing about it while putting some soft-knitted mittens he had in his pocket on your hands. “M’not sure if Dada heard though,” he whispers to you, “maybe you should go tell him,” he informs you with a wink. 

You hurriedly run over to Steve, jumping in place over and over again in front of him. 

“Dada! Dada!” you take his hand and drag him a bit closer to where you had the best view of the colorful wheel. “Look!” you point and turn to him with an excited expression. “Can we go? Please? Pretty please? Please please please please-” you babble over and over again while continuing to jump up and down until you’ve all but run out of air in your lungs. 

Steve looks at the contraption suspiciously, not trusting of the achy-sounding metal, and certainly not wanting his little girl near anything dangerous. He catches a glimpse of Bucky though, who’s contagiously smiling at you both, and remembers how often Bucky tells him not to worry so much. 

“Okay-okay” Steve caves, unable to help but smile at your hyper manner right now. “Just this once, then we can go home and get you all nice and warm” he teasingly pinches at your cold cheeks.

“Yayayay!” you literally scream out, not even caring one bit that he said it was only once or that you had to go home after this. You were more than overjoyed that you got to ride it at all. 

You start to make a sprint for it, only getting a few feet when resistance yanks you back, stopping you in your tracks and forcing you to steady yourself from the unexpected halt in momentum. Steve hadn’t even pulled on the backpack at all, it was just your pure running and his not moving an inch that caused you to ricochet back a bit. It’s a wonder you didn't fall flat on your behind. 

“Heh-sorry!” you sheepishly laugh it off and wait patiently for them to catch up with you in basically two full steps for them. 

As you make the short walk to the diminishing line in the late hour, Steve stops to tie his shoe, occupying both of his hands. You swing your arms aimlessly around waiting for him to finish while looking around. 

As you mindlessly scan the area around you, your head does a double take as you recognize something. 

No–someone. 

You watch the stranger in confusion until the remnants of memory come back to you. It was a friend. But this person wasn’t Peter or Wanda…no. It was a friend from…before.

It disorients you, confusion washing over you and placing a pit in your stomach as your life before now was mostly forgotten and placed in a dusty cardboard box in the back of your mind’s vaults. 

You watch as they walk away, towards where you know leads to the parking lot. And as if something takes over you, you start following their footsteps, unhinderedly drifting away from where Steve and Bucky are. 

As you mindlessly follow, several feet behind, memories of your past life replay in your mind. They playback in black and white as if you’re watching one of those really old movies Steve likes to show you sometimes. 

Then you hazily remember when they first found you…took you. Emotions of how scared and confused you were overtake your mind. You remember how they kept you in the house, never letting you leave. 

“Sily girl, Dada can’t kidnap what’s already his,” Steve would tell you every time you’d harshly accuse him of kidnapping you. 

“No one can protect you like we can,” Bucky would shush you after one of his punishments when you had pushed too hard. “Daddy only does this ‘cause he loves you.” he’d brush over your already bruising skin before carefully wiping away the tears that he had ignored for hours before.

Some nights you’d wake from nightmares, the specifics of it not mattering when Steve would find you crying into your stuffie. He never hesitated to pick you up and let you weep into his shoulder. Always whispering that you were okay, that you were safe. 

“It’s okay angel, Dada’s here. You’re safe with me. I’ll always keep you safe. Always.” he’d repeat to you sincerely, holding onto you so tightly, as if the slightest loosening of his grip meant the very air around him would harm you.

To him though, it was true. Nothing could hurt you as long as you were in his arms. He’d carry you downstairs, where Bucky would tell you that nightmares didn’t matter “‘cause they aren’t real, doll…not like me and Dada.” he’d caress your warm cheeks while Steve fetched you some cold milk. They’d stay up with you as long as you needed, not even daring to shut an eye until you felt safe enough to sleep again.

And truthfully…you did. You did feel safe. 

Maybe it was strange…the way you sought their comfort…their touch…their love, when you fought it in the beginning. 

And you did fight…hard. 

But every retaliation you made only ended in harsh grabs. Every effort to push them away resulted in lacerated reminders. Every moment you spent denying what they told you only yielded unrestrained punishments. 

“My sweet girl…you’ll learn soon enough. Fighting us only makes it harder for you.” Steve would stroke your cheek through the bars of your crib. “All you have to do is listen to what we say. We know what’s best for you, angel.” he’d say before leaving you all tied up and alone for hours…sometimes days. 

And then, after you’d more than cried yourself dry, throat scratchy from lack of hydration, he’d appear to you, asking if you’d learned your lesson. Your body would somehow discover new tears as you’d plead with him, promising him you’d be a good girl. 

It’s then that he’d smile down at you so sweetly, lifting your limp body from its cushiony cage and shower you with endless affection. 

He’d drown you with attention, never allowing you to lift a finger. He’d clean you up with your favorite scented soap, and after you were all done, Bucky would present you with a new set of soft clothes they bought just for you for taking your punishment so so well. They’d play your favorite shows and message every sore spot on your tired body after ordering from your favorite type of take out, something you never even told them. There wasn’t a moment where they weren’t touching you in some way, dousing you with sweet words about how much they loved their beautiful helpless little girl. 

Helpless.

A word that reminds you exactly how you felt the very first time you bumped into Steve. All alone and scared, in a place that was dark and unfamiliar. You were lost then. 

Just like you were right now. 

You practically snap back into reality, the one where you’ve found yourself far away from the luminous festival lights and eerily close to where you can’t hear racket of activities anymore. It’s quiet, and you don’t even know where that funnily familiar person you were following went. Dread fills your insides as you realize you’re all alone. 

You turn around hastily, 

Anxiety fills your stomach as you rashly run in the opposite direction, before tripping on a wire that sends you spiraling down to the ground. You clumsily try to catch yourself, mittened hands harshly hitting the pavement, and asphalt slashes through your leggings, exposing the soft flesh of your knees to razor-sharp pain.

The sudden impact scares you, tears that were already forming from before start rushing out of your eyes. 

Instinctually, you cry for Steve. For Dada. But when after too many moments you don’t feel their comfort, you look around and remember they’re not there. Your heart pounds as people rush by seemingly unaffected by your fallen form. You swirl your head around looking for them and are instead met with the haunting image of your green leash’s end, its ghostly emptiness scorning you from where it lays.  

You cry harder, guilt and anguish now thumping alongside the throbbing in your chest that radiates to your body’s wounded limbs and you're pretty sure the only words coming out of your mouth are pathetic strings of ‘daddy’ and ‘dada.’

“There she is” Bucky spots you, both of them rushing over to you, distraught as they notice your scraped-up form. 

“Dada!” you cry, leaping towards Steve and wrapping your arms around his neck as he picks you up. You helplessly weep, not just from the physical pain but from the emotional strain your misplaced detour took you on. You cry for leaving them. You can't tell if it was on purpose, but you feel awful from even remembering your past life and getting so close to being lost.

“Fuck, angel. What happened?” Steve breathes, taking the scuffed mittens off your hands to examine you closer. 

“I-...I-” you try to speak through gasps of crying. They both question you on where you went and why you walked away. You barely manage to tell the story in broken sobs as to what truthfully happened. They listen intensively as you tearfully explain the details of what happened.

“But-but-I-I don’t wanna! Don’t wanna lose daddies! Don’t wanna! Didn’t mean t-to! I-I p-promise-I-I didn’t!” you stagger between breaths, gasping for air as your sob relentlessly in Steve’s arms. 

“Shh, hey-hey” Bucky caresses your head, directing your attention to him. “It’s okay, doll. It’s okay. You’re okay.” he consoles. Steve gently wipes your tears at the same time and helps in calming you. You look at them both through blurry vision and continue weeping apologies to which they both remind you that it’s okay. 

They were scared to death when they only took their eyes off you for a second and you were gone…but they found you, just like the first time. 

They bring you over to sit down on a bench so they can better help console you and check your injuries. Steve rummages through the backpack he was carrying to get a first aid kit, and Bukcy watches through tortured eyes as you miserably cry.

“Doll.” he tenderly tilts your chin up to him. Tearful eyes red from crying look up to him. “Daddy’s proud of you.” he states, earnestly, stern and true. It makes you cry harder though, with confusion written all over your face. Proud? How could he be proud when you almost thought about running away? 

“W-why?” you cry “I-I bad. bad!” you weep pitifully as you feel Steve cleaning your knees. 

“No angel. You’re not bad.” Steve states, only confusing you more, you were sure both of them would be upset with you…considering they had every reason to. 

“You know why?” Bucky asks, stroking your previously cold cheeks that have now been warmed by your tears. You shake your head no as more seemingly endless tears fall. “‘Cause you came back,” he says, wiping them as they come. “You came back to find us. That’s all that matters.” Bucky reassures you. 

It hurts, both his and Steve’s worst fear almost coming to life. 

But it didn't. 

And truthfully, no one understood that more than Bucky. He knew more than anyone what it was like to get confused. To see or hear something otherwise mundane that whips you back to a place where you feel out of control. 

The story you recanted to them rings all too familiar to him. It reminds him of shaky hands and paralyzed tongue that attempted to explain to Steve what it was like to not be in control of your own body. Your own actions. 

It didn’t matter that you wandered away. It didn’t matter where your thoughts went. All that mattered was that you cried for them. All that mattered was your tiny hands curled around Steve's shirt so hard he’d thought you’d hurt your own fingers. All that mattered was the way you pulled Bucky closer while weeping his name as he comforted you. 

All that mattered…was that you needed your Daddies.  

They both reassure as such in ways they knew you'd understand. Besides, it only made sense that their little girl would get confused sometimes. That’s what daddies are for. And you came back because you knew they always made the best decisions for you. And even if on the off chance that you hadn't…that really wouldn’t have mattered anyway either. They would always find their little girl because you belong with them. Always and forever.

“Which ones do you want little princess?” Steve asks you, offering a variety of colorful bandages in front of you. Your hysteria and their sweet strong words have all but distracted you from the pain of the scratches lacerating your knees. You point to the ones you like and Steve praises you for making “such a good choice babygirl.”

Bucky holds you close and lets you bury your head in his chest while Steve carefully puts them on. You feel guilt again when you notice that the soft mittens now have little scuffs and holes in them that match your pants. But Steve reassures you that it’s ‘no biggie’ and that they can always get you another pair. 

“How about Daddy and I get you some ice cream?” Steve suggests, knowing sweets was at least one way to cheer his sweet girl up. 

You sniffle, looking to him at the suggestion. 

“Ice cweam?” you say with a small voice “I-I wike ice cweam” you say softly, not meaning to slur your words. But you never did anyway, it always just happened beyond your control. 

“I think that sounds perfect, huh doll?” Bucky says lightheartedly and sweetly while picking you up from the bench and placing you in Steve's arms.

“Wif sprinkles toos?” you ask, rubbing your sore eyes. 

“All the sprinkles for my sweet little girl” Steve smiles at you while playfully poking at your side making you giggle a bit. 

The cold dessert cools your hot throat and brings a smile back to your face. Of course, what really made you happy was knowing your daddies weren’t upset with you, and even more importantly, that you were never going to lose them.

“Hey what’s that on Dada’s face?” Bucky points directly to Steve, making you turn to examine it closely as you're still in his arms. It gives Bucky the opportunity to steal a lick from your ice cream.

“Hey!” you laugh turning back to Bucky’s not-so-secret move when you realize there was nothing amiss on your Dada’s face. 

“What?” he puts his hands and shoulders up in a shrug of confusion while looking around and feigning confusion. You giggle more as obvious signs of ice cream are on the tip of his nose.

“Looks like daddy’s the one with something on his face” Steve teases, and you laugh with them while they let you finish your little treat.

“You still wanna go up on the Ferris wheel babygirl?” Steve asks after wiping your hands clean from any sticky residue. You look up to him with awe and shock, not expecting him to still offer it. 

“Really?” you question with a hopeful but weary look on your face from not being sure of why you deserve it. Steve nods at you and tells you yes. Maybe he was skeptical before, but nothing was better than seeing his little girl's face light up in a smile. 

Plus, Steve knew you were their little girl. More than that, he knew that you knew. In your heart, you came back to them. You needed them. And that’s all Steve could ever want. 

You’re squeezed between your two daddies as the wheel makes its way up to the top. They watch as you look in awe of how tiny everything looks from up above. This must be what it's like for your daddies to see all the time. You feel as though you’re at the tippity top of the wheel forever. You don’t mind as it’s beautiful and quiet up there with the only people in the world you wanted to be with. You tiredly lay your head against Steve's arm, signaling to him that you’ll likely sleep the whole drive home. 

“I love you,” you say contently, and they know you say it for both of them. 

“We love you too angel. So much,” Steve tells you, smiling down at his sleepy little girl, and looking up to see Bucky’s lightened up face too. 

He takes it all in, remembering the times when just he and Bucky would go out to these things–or really–when Bukcy would drag him to the carnivals. He knew how much Bucky loved this. He knew how much you loved this. And he loved it too. He loved you both, and that was all he needed.

[phantasmagorianfantasy]

Freak Next Door: Part 1

Read Part 2

Read Part 3

18+ only! Josh x OFC

Some Jon Bernthal goodness for a character I don't see a lot of fanfiction about. Sharp Stick was quite a movie, and those scenes now live rent free in my mind forever. Even if Josh was a loser.

Warnings: masturbation, voyeurism

@grippingbeskar This is YOUR fault. I am working on two different pieces right now, and you have been a muse. Thanks!

This is the first part I have written for a Sharp Stick fanfiction which will be inspired by this post by @chellestrash. I think Josh is pretty much a fuckboy of a character, but I would love to see someone torture him. In the fun ways. More to come ASAP - just getting my sea legs.

Comments welcome! Thank you!

Updated June 22nd

Josh stared open-mouthed out of the window. He had been doing this for days now - he'd wake up, say goodbye to his wife before she took the kids to daycare and climb back into the guest-room bed, sitting up against the headboard.

This window gave Josh a perfect view into his neighbor's bedroom. A room with a view, he mused.

After his last stunt with the babysitter, he was still in the dog house, and he had been relegated to the extra room on the opposite side of their home. Married, but in the same purgatory he had found himself in previously. Josh felt his heart clench as he thought about how that last affair had ended.

That wasn't his fault, though. There had been a lot of pressure on him, and with Heather the way she was... Still. He really hadn't meant for any of that to happen.

How long had it been? It must have been two years now.

Such a fuck up...he thought to himself, guilt filling every sense. In this moment, he even considered stopping, not going through with his new ritual, saving some sort of semblance of honor and decency for the mother of his children. But the memory of their first meeting always tugged him back into the filth and away from any honorable thought or intention.

Josh had first met her at a community barbecue down the street. He swallowed hard, running a hand lazily along his chest as he remembered her in that checkered blue and white bathing suit top, still wet from the pool. She had a smile that could dazzle, and he loved how her eyes crinkled at the sides when she threw her head back when she laughed. Josh remembered how he had unconsciously eyed the fabric clinging to her body, to every single curve.

Josh closed his eyes, thinking of the sweat that languidly dripped down her neck into the valley of her breasts as the sun shone gold through the wisps of her blond hair. He imagined himself running a tongue through that trail and a shudder ran through him.

Josh groaned, the self-depricating thoughts at war with the growing arousal in his stomach. That day... he remembered that woman's delicate fingers picking up a strawberry from the buffet table and sinking it in between her lips in a way he felt was meant for him. Her eyes were boring into him, this tight 30-year-old shamelessly making eye contact with him as her red lips pursed against the curve of the berry. Her eyes fluttered, rolling back as her teeth sank into the fruit. A small trail of juice had eeked out of the corner of her mouth. He had been halfway through raising a beer to his lips, and Yuri was blabbing away about his current hot piece, but that had stopped him in his tracks too.

'I said goddamn Josh, was she lookin' at you or me?' Yuri had nearly gasped these words out beside him. Josh hadn't known the answer.

His mind flipped back and forth from memory to reality, and Josh licked his lips, the memory of that damn barbecue sending an electric shock through his body. He pulled off his shirt, throwing it unceremoniously into a ball near the hamper. He bit his lip, waiting with trepedation and a little bit of guilt as he looked through the window into her bedroom.

From here, he could see her golden curls splayed on the sheets, her legs twisted in them. Josh dragged his hand from his neck down his own chest, his eyes closed for a moment, imagining her delicate hands following this very trail. His throat was so fucking dry as he tried to create what he imagined she would do...his finger tips barely putting pressure on his skin, alternating from petting to a slow, light draw of fingernails.

Josh felt his phone vibrate as the 10am alarm sounded. His eyes opened lazily as he sent the alarm into oblivion. She'd be waking up any second now. His eyes darted back, praising whatever diety allowed the bedroom a view straight into her bed.

His breath caught in his chest as he saw a pair of legs slide up. She was awake. He was thankful that the curtains allowed this small space where he could see her in bed. That woman always slept naked, and seeing her legs emerge sent a jolt straight to his growing arousal. He could see her hand lazily playing with the inside of her legs, and he imagined the murmurs she might make if his hands replaced hers. Josh stiffened, watching her sit up in bed. They were nearly facing one another, the distance seeming paradoxically close and yet so so far as he watched her fingers squeeze around her breast and then trail down her stomach to the curls below. He wondered if she tasted sweet like that strawberry, wondered how it would feel to have her grinding herself into his mouth as he cleaned the juices from her. He groaned softly, his hips rising slightly at the thought of being in between those legs, gripping her thick thighs.

Another whsipered moan escaped his lips, all thoughts of resistance chased away in a moment. He jerked his sweatpants down just above his knees and streched out his legs. He spat into his hand, pumping his length lazily a few times before turning his eyes back to her, who was mirroring him now, her back against her headboard and fingers slipping in and out of her.

He choked as his length pulsed, seeing her slowly raise her hips to meet her hand. He hoped that her eyes were closed, afraid of the consequences of her realizing his little fantasy. But Josh wanted nothing more than see her gaze cutting into him, burning him, making him squirm. His grip tightened, and he released a breath he had been holding in earnest.

Her lips were curled into a smile though slightly parted, and he watched her hand circling her clit. He moaned softly, watching her alternate between her clit and sliding a finger into her own folds. He could tell she was moaning from the way her chest rose and fell, by how her hips rose off the bed.

He looked down at himself for a moment, considering how it would look to have her fingers wrapped around his length. His grip tightened, and the pleasure was double edged. He continued to slide his hand in time with her motions, and his mouth hung open as he saw her plunge two fingers into herself. He could see everything, and the pressure building within him made his stomach tight. His grip was firm and deliberate. He was not rushing, yet.

God, she was beautiful. He praised her in his mind, his eyes locked on her hands and how her hips rose as she pumped her fingers. He felt his release on the horizon, and moaned softly as she continued her assault.

Josh felt his end approaching, the pre-cum leaking and mixing with his spit as his speed increased. He imagined what those breathy moans would sound like if he were the one sinking his digits into her, the one licking up and down her slit before taking her clit between is lips and sucking gently. He groaned again, his speed increasing as his eyes locked on her face.

He moved away from the headboard, his legs hanging off the side of the bed as he ached to get a closer look at her as he came. He felt a shot of panic run through him as their eyes made contact. He was unsure if she'd actually seen him until she too began to scoot away from her headboard and closer to the window, knees up and legs perched at the edge of the bed as she fucked herself for his eyes only. Her eyes were alternating from her own body to him, and her other hand slipping a pair of fingers into her mouth.

Josh gasped, imagining the filthy sounds he imagined she would make. His minstrations became erratic as the woman next door laid on her back, her hips bucking up as she fucked herself for him. He watched his cock jump, his hands tightening and releasing pressure as he considered how she would feel under him, panting and mewling. When his eyes returned to the window, she was leaning back on her elbows, looking straight back at him. Her fingers were still plunged inside her, and he watched as she pumped them quickly before her other hand joined in order to rub quickly against her bud. The quiet of the morning allowed the muffled sounds of her moans to drift into the room, and Josh groaned again, his insides twisting with pleasure. He watched as she threw her head back, thrusting into herself as her hips jumped forward.

He gasped, an "Oh fuck" escaped his lips before he threw his head back. He moaned as his cock throbbed in his hands, cumming over his own stomach. He felt his cum as it landed on the sweated sheen of his chest. He couldn't stop the grip of his hand, unrelenting as he came hard, even as the orgasm began to abate. He felt a little pathetic, hearing his own breathy moans as he fucked himself life a teenager. As he finished, he did feel the knots in his stomach release just slightly. Josh's eyes were momentarily fixed on the mess on himself, a feeling of slight shame and nervousness as he thought of how his eyes had locked with hers.

He didn't know if he should move, hide the evidence of what he had been doing as he watched her. He bit his lip and chanced a peek back up. She was looking straight at him, her mouth opened with a look of gasping elation.

Josh slowly threw his legs over the side of the guest bed and walked to the window, unable to take his eyes off the quivering mess in that beautiful woman's hands. He swallowed hard seeing the look in her eyes.

She didn't look completely satisfied, and the idea both thrilled and terrified him. He still hoped in the back of his mind that he was imagining her eyes boring into his. Perhaps she was just staring into space, overcome with pleasure like he had been.

However, his breath caught when she slowly slid off the bed and approached her window. The space between the houses couldn't be more than 30 feet, and he groaned as she raised a hand to wave, a playful grin spreading across her face.

Oh fuck.

[goforth-ladymidnight]

Feylin Week 2024, Day 1: Art and Music

@feylinweek

Feylin in Love: An Unofficial ACOTAR Soundtrack

Cover art by @/crimson-spine here on Tumblr.

If you want a breakdown of why I chose certain songs, you can read more below the cut. In any case, I hope you like! ❤️

I tried to keep to songs that had a more fantastical vibe than modern, in order to keep with the fairy tale nature of the first book. Therefore, there are several instrumental songs on here, but there are some notable songs with lyrics that suit Feylin very well. For example:

Without You by Ursine Vulpine, Annaca - Tamlin's thoughts the night before he sends Feyre home

If it's gonna get violent tonight Tell me you're gonna be alright You're gonna be It's an eye for an eye and I don't know if I Want you to fight, want you to fight I'm losing my mind Don't leave me behind We need a bit more time

Find You by Ruelle - Feyre goes Under the Mountain

I can hear the sound Of your barely beating heart Pieces on the ground From a world that fell apart ... I will find you Here inside the dark I will break through No matter where you are I will find you I will find you

Is Your Love Strong Enough by How to Destroy Angels - Feyre endures the Three Trials to win Tamlin back

Just one beat of your heart And stranger than fantasy I knew from the start It had to be the place for me Someone that I would die for There's no way I could ever leave

Notable instrumental songs that I like to imagine for certain scenes include:

Glittering Water by Jiří Horák, Eklipse - Entering the glen and the pool of starlight

Tam Lin (Glasgow Reel) by PeakFiddler - While it may seem obvious, this is definitely something Tamlin would play at Solstice

Edhellond by Unapologetically Melodic - The song of the will o' the wisps

Always Mine by Thomas Bergersen - Feyre defeats the Middengard Worm

Music Under the Mountain by Kelsey Woods - Composed specifically for this scene, it's canon to me, as is the idea that Tamlin is the one playing.

I still haven't found songs that fit every chapter or pro-Feylin interaction, but this is what I have so far, and I really like it. I hope you do, too! Thanks for listening. ❤️

[allovertheplace-writing]

Hello, I saw that you're requests are open and if it's no trouble I would like to ask for kazuha with fem s/o who is insecure about their looks and body? Thank you in advance and have a nice day.

Genshin Impact

Character(s): Kazuha

Genre: Fluff + Comfort

Type: Headcanon

Description: Some days you cannot ignore the way you see yourself and every frown, every thought, finds a way to hinder your daily life. Today, though, as it all creeps in, you aren't alone

Warning(s): Female Reader(Pronouns and Gendered Terms Not Mentioned / Can Be Read by Anyone Without Being Misgendered), Insecurities, Touching(Innocent in Nature)

Hello, anon!! It's no trouble at all <3

I hope you enjoy and have a great day or evening!

It was a feeling, a simple pit in your stomach whilst you looked for something to wear for the day. Nothing seemed quite right and frustration boiled at the back of your throat with every failed outfit. Your silent words of disdain toward the unflattering clothing soon turned to your own self

You tried to shake your head and focus on finding something you knew looked good, but they just wouldn't stop. The very brain that knew you were attractive, attacked you as if it didn't. It would keep going until it ate you alive; until it consumed all that you are

But his voice, ever so soft and ever so kind, called for you just beyond your quarters, inquiring if you were ready to follow him just as he would the wind. It had your heart halting and your lungs aching. What would you say? More so, what could you say?

Perhaps it was your silence that would drive him away, maybe you could hide and wallow like days long passed. Though you knew better than that, that he would always make sure you were alright. He knew the way your dressing habits changed whenever your thoughts raged war upon your very being, he knew your torment like he knew his past

"May I come in, love?" He spoke in a hush, as if a mere wisp of urgency would send you hurling into the fiery pits of the underworld with only the souls of the damned to keep you company. His bandaged hand was on the weathered knob of your door long before you managed to push out a hum, but he waited for it despite the seconds or minutes that went by. For you, he would wait an eternity; he'd wait lifetimes

The door's hinges whined as he pushed it open, scared to allow him in just as you. Though your fear did not bloom from the stem of him knowing, rather, it fell from the wilted petals of your heart. To worry him so hurt more than any anguish your mind could grow in the soil of your battered soul.

A breath fell from his lips, an exhale soon followed by careful words. "Are...are you alright?" The twisting of your brow had him stepping closer. He payed no mind to your shrinking once he had you in his arms, sliding and locking loosely between your middle. He had been unsure before, but more than aware now. "Is it one of those days?"

The shirt in which you tried before his interruption was pressed ever so tightly to your chest, a meek attempt at shielding your weeping heart from his curious eyes. Your throat, tense and screaming for rest, only managed a quiet squeak - a squeak that was intended to be a 'yes'

His chin nestled above your shoulder as he breathed, his cheek smooshing when he leaned into you. "I'm perfectly content staying in today, if that's what you want." Hands, once locked and resting against your stomach, now wandered and danced across your bare skin. His thumbs rubbed circles whilst his fingers traced every curve and every mark. Like honey they dripped slowly and tickled the expanse of your skin in cold lines, lighting fires in their wake.

"There is always one thing the wind calls you toward, you know. Constantly pulling and pushing you until you finally find it.." His bangs dragged across your neck as he shifted, lifting and turning his head. Warmth settled against the shell of your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin with every word. "And, for me..." Hands found your own, "I have found that you are what it's been leading me to."

Your aching fingers loosened around the crinkled fabric within your hands, his words relieving as much as they were lung aching. The shirt fell from your grasp when you reached for his hands, tangling your own with his as you pulled them close. Your chest rose with a shaking breath, your nose burning.

"To me, you are the world. Full of wonders and life." Your eyes itched as they watered and blurred. "A never-ending masterpiece of bountiful views and tasteful cuisines." His lips graced the curve of your cheek, "A flower that withstands hurricanes and tsunamis."

"You're so strong, (Y/n), but please...remember that you can lean on me whenever it gets too difficult." Another kiss is pressed to your cheek, "I love you, dearly."

[fountainpenguin]

"Suspense is controlling my mind... I can't find a way out of here..."

---

New 130 Reasons Why I'm Fairy Trash update today!

Fairly OddParents || One-Shot - “Approval”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Find more Lavender Train story arc HERE

---

A glimpse into 155,000-year-old Foop's life on the student council as he decorates the gym for a high school dance. Guest appearances by Poof, Denzel, Kevin, the von Strangle twins, the O'Terrae clones, Whistle, and Foop's betrothed: Anti-Coriander.

(First 1000 words under the cut)

40. Approval (~5,000 years after "Temptation" and 5,000 before "All I Ever Wanted")

Wednesday February 8th, Aurora 177

Year of Water, Winter of the Powerful Rapids

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If Foop had truly had an inkling of how much work it takes to run the school as its student body secretary, he may not have bothered campaigning. Honestly they were three years into the current zodiac cycle and he still hadn't decided if he'll run for the position again.

He probably would. He most definitely would, so he didn't even know why he was complaining. The one and only cycle that he reigned as student body president with Poof as his secretary, half the meetings didn't get their minutes recorded in any real detail, and Poof had typed every single document using the Central Star region's way of spelling Snobbish words.

And other minor annoyances… like, he'd written out directions once and called the first floor "second floor" and Foop spent 30 minutes flitting around in puzzled circles until it clicked that he and Poof were using different terms for their destination. He walked in late and his snacks were cold. Hmph. No one ever seemed to have that problem when it was him sending out newsletters. Atrocious.

And when Poof had double-dipped his hand briefly into the role of student body treasurer, the budget may as well have been sliced in half with the way Poof divvied up their things. Honestly, it felt sometimes like his counterpart flopped in his various roles on purpose just to make him miserable. He'd like to believe Poof was better than that level of petty, but sometimes when you were dripping with exhaustion and low on caffeine, it was impossible to tell.

Poof's on freaking peppermint a solid 70% of his waking hours anyway. A lot of help HE is. He supposed he could thank his counterpart for getting addicted to candy in a way that let Foop operate sober and without temptation of any kind. That was the only silver lining to any of this.

Foop despised his counterpart's peppermint habit, but like Darkness would he ever rat Poofy out to his mummy and daddy. No. They both relied on their parents' approval- if not for physical comfort and safety, then certainly for emotional support. Hard pass. Disgrace. Poof had far too much dirt on him to ever make him risk tipping their mutually assured destruction too far to one side.

My secret affairs with Anti-Marigold come to mind… His father will flay him alive when he finds out about that. An anti-will o' the wisp… Really. The prince of Anti-Fairy World could have done "so much better in a mistress" (and High Count Anti-Cosmo will painfully let him know it). His lecherous father was a textbook nymphomaniac. Foop would rather die than allow the pooferazzi to document Anti-Cosmo dragging his son out to all his old brothel haunts or… or… something like that.

Do we even have brothels in Anti-Fairy World? Who knows. That's not the point. The High Count undoubtedly did something scandalous with his spare time when he wasn't holed up plotting world domination, and whatever that thing may be, Foop would sooner sprint one billion kilometers in the other direction than ever face it head-on.

Anti-Cosmo didn't approve of the fact that Foop ended up on student council in the first place. Foop had cheated some of the vote (as he'd cheated it for years) by relying on bashful simpletons like Whistle to campaign in his favor while simultaneously threatening others into voting for him. He'd stuffed the ballot box and didn't even care. Honestly, part of him suspected the school knew what he was up to, and Foop took cruel pride in the fact that if he managed to do a good enough job keeping the school activities flowing, the faculty might simply look the other way. Oh, there's such a great joy in being wanted as a leader instead of merely feared…

Not that my father understands that. My position is secured someday, especially if I don't have heirs until I'm so old that my wand sparks when I use it. Meanwhile, my father will be twisting his neck, peering anxiously over one shoulder in cold anticipation of my rise to power until the day he dies.

Ah, youth. He reveled in it.

At least Poof knew how to lead a meeting that kept all the officers engaged. Poof had this animated way of speaking where he sort of gushed over his words, the long tails of his blue bandana ribbon snapping behind him in an imaginary wind every time he paced. He could sell a genie on underwater real estate. Maybe that was why the people kept electing him student body president year after year.

They'd been setting up for tonight's dance since before the window for early-morning breakfast wishes closed off. Well… Foop had, anyway. It wasn't really necessary. In a pinch, magic could always be whipped out to speed the process along, but Foop had his own… reasons for wanting to keep eyes on their location for hours at a time.

He traced the pad of one finger along the dark scar that curled around his neck. Left side, just above the collarbone…

Cavatina Sanderson had slit that scar across Poof's innocent skin 20,000 years ago, during the same Autumn Masquerade where Foop first met Anti-Coriander. Foop had even died and regenerated a few times since then - not on purpose! (mostly) - but the scar wasn't his to heal. This same scar branded his counterpart's neck. It had been given to Poof first, and the stupid sync between their cores kept it firmly in place like a teeter-totter. Terribly annoying.

He never knew how to explain it when strangers asked. Wasn't even his battle wound to brag about. Or Poof's, for that matter… That infuriating pixie had simply backed his counterpart against a wall and shoved a blade right up to his neck. Poof just let it happen. And if he'd done it at one dance, Foop had no reason to believe he wouldn't make another appearance tonight.

Therein lay the anxieties.

[Cnt’d - FFN and AO3 links above]

[granulesofsand]

State of Our Union

🗝️🏷️ RAMCOA (de)programming mentions

Our ideal internal government resembles a scene from the Divergent series; a community conversation that begins with people finding others they feel comfortable talking to, reaching an understanding of the arguments, and sending a representative to the next round of groups.

It’s not a perfect match, but loosely described, that’s what we want. We have a lot of distrust between groups, and in general, so we tend to cluster up on issues anyway. Not everyone can go to every council meeting by sheer numbers, and the smaller councils with reps allows everyone to be heard at least initially.

We have fragments who were separated out just to be more neutral, who translate between languages, dialects, and vocabulary. We use old programming to guide the way to meetings, colorful will-o’-wisp fairy lights whose jobs were redirected to benefit the system.

After decisions are made however high they need to go, the representatives of that last group take it back to the previous one, and eventually everyone who needs to knows about said decision. Usually this stops slightly before everyone knowing, and tasks are delegated based on regional leadership and according to the skills of the members.

Sometimes we have to adjust that big decision for objections within each group, but we don’t skip around in the process without good reason. Usually people are willing to work within the rules if they’re still being heard out, and our observers are still going around making sure the tasks are carried out effectively and as discussed.

Our biggest concern most runs is lack of reach, because there are so many groups we can’t contact or don’t know about. We invite new contacts to have a means of finding them, even if it’s by summoning a rep every time we need to meet with them. Everyone we know about gets a say, and the larger group decides whether the logic is sound and how it factors into the larger outcome.

Most of our posts come from our left continent, but this governing is used in some form across our realms. We describe the structure and topic aloud in the fronting realm when we have decisions to make, and we’re getting closer to bringing everyone in.

The frequent topics are deprogramming, therapy, and internal changes. We also talk about our external life, but discussions are more limited to huge changes like career, home, and health.

It’s really hard, always a new reason we can’t fit the ideal, but it doesn’t have to be perfect to be better than what we had. It might be ugly, but it’s ours, and we’re gonna make it work.

[acourtofthought]

First Kiss

This post will contain spoilers for the TOG series. The following are the words exchanged between various pairings prior to their first kiss in SJMs books.  Some are endgame while others did not last. Tamlin / Feyre - "Time goes faster when you're drunk on faerie wine" "I'm not drunk"  "They're starting again" "I want to show you something better" "Here" "What is it?" "What are they?" "Will-o'-the-wisps - spirits of are and light."  "Come to celebrate the solstice". "They're beautiful." "Dance with me, Feyre." "Really?" "Really." "Feyre."  "Feyre."   "It's almost dawn" "What?" "I'm thinking I might kiss you." Celaena / Dorian "And how's your present?" "Oh, she hid under my bed, then in the dining room, which is where I left her." "You locked the dog in your dining room?" "Should I have kept her in my bedroom, where she could ruin the carpets? Or in the gaming room, where she might eat the chess pieces and choke?" "Perhaps you should have sent her to the kennels, where dogs belong." "On Yulemas? I couldn't think of sending her back to that wretched place!" "Well?" "You left the ball without saying good-bye" "I'm impressed you got up here so quickly - and without a pack of court ladies hounding after you. Perhaps you should try your hand at being an assassin." "I'm not interested in court ladies." Yrene / Chaol "I knew another woman who lost as much as you.  And do you know what she did with it - that loss?  She hunted down the people responsible for it and obliterated them.  What the hell have you bothered to do all these years?" "I might not have battled kings and shattered castles but I am the heir apparent to the Healer on High.  Through my own work and suffering and sacrifice.  And you're standing right now because of that.  People are alive because of that.  So I may not be a warrior waving a sword about, may not be worthy of your glorious tales, but at least I save lives - not end them." "I know."  "Yrene, I know". "Please" "Don't go, I'm sorry." "I'm sorry." "I meant none of it."  "I was spoiling for a fight and - I meant none of it, Yrene. None of it.  And I'm so sorry." "A kernel if it must have been in you, though." "I meant it about myself.  What you have done Yrene, what you are still willing to do...You did this - all of this not for glory or ambition, but because you believe it is the right thing to do.  Your bravery, your cleverness, your unfaltering will...I do not have words for it, Yrene." "Please, Yrene." "Perhaps it makes you feel better about yourself to associate with meek, pathetic, little people like me." "I do not....You know I didn't mean it." "Do I?" "You know it, damn you." (Reading the light in her eyes.  The tone.  The witch was tricking into walking.  Coaxing him to move.  To follow) Feyre / Rhys - "Did you think I would go with him?" "I heard every word between you.  I knew you could take care of yourself, and yet" "And yet I found myself deciding that if you took his hand, I would find a way to live with it.  It would be your choice" "And if he had grabbed me?" "Then I would have torn apart the world to get you back." "I would have fired at him if he had tried to hurt you" "I know" "One thought in exchange for another, not trained involved please." "I'm thinking, that I look at you and feel like I'm dying.  Like I can't breath.  I'm thinking I want you so badly I can't concentrate half the time I'm around you, and this room is too small for me to properly bed you.  Especially with the wings" "I'm thinking that I can't stop thinking about you.  And that it's been that way for a long while.  Even before I left the Spring Court.  And maybe that makes me a traitorous, lying piece of trash, but - " "It doesn't" "We should go to sleep" "You're shivering so hard the bed is shaking" "My hair is wet" "No expectations, just body heat" "Your finger...is very cold" "You cruel, wicked thing."  "Didn't anyone ever teach you manners?" "I never knew Illyrians were such sensitive babies" "Greedy - first you terrorize me with your cold hands, now you want...what is it you want, Feyre?" "What is it you want Feyre?" "I want a distraction" "I want - fun" "Then allow me the pleasure of distracting you" Nesta / Cassian "Who and what I prefer is none of your concern" "Nor is - " "You haven't answered my first question.  Or are all thsese other questions a diversion?" "What's it to you?" "More questions" "No, I haven't."  "Why should I have bothered?"  By the time I came of age, I was surrounded by low-born brutes and bastards.  I'd rather use my own hand than sully myself with theirs." "Who." "I don't know what you're talking about." "Did someone hurt you." "Would it change anything if someone had?  Would it make you see me differently, treat me differently?" "It'd make me hunt them down and shatter every bone in their body" "You don't know me."  "Why bother?" "I'd do it for anyone" Or possibly people are counting the following as their first kiss since the above only led to Cassian kissing her jaw: "Get up."  "Get up." "You're too heavy." "I can't - he's coming -". "Go" "Go!" "I can't, I can't". "I have no regrets in my life, but this."  "That we did not have time.  That I did not have time with you, Nesta." Aelin / Rowan "You said that things had changed - that we'd deal with it."  "I'm not going to ask you for anything you're not ready or willing to give." "Aelin, you deserve better than this - than me." "Don't tell me what I do and don't deserve.  Don't tell me about tomorrow, or the future, or any of it." "What do you want me to tell you, Fireheart?" "Tell me that we'll get through tomorrow.  Tell me that we'll survive the war.  Tell me - " "Tell me that even if I lead us all to ruin, we'll burn in hell together." "We're not going to hell, Aelin."  "But wherever we go, we'll go together." "Just once," she aid.  "I want to kiss you just once." "That sounds like you're expecting not to do it again." "I know the odds." "You and I have always relished damning the odds." "Even when we're apart tomorrow, I'll be with you every step of the way.  And every step Elain / Azriel "I..."  "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents.  I forgot to give it to you earlier." "Here." "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound.  With Nesta and Cassian living there with you....." "No wonder you didn't want me to open it in front of everyone." "Nesta wouldn't appreciate the joke." "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." "It's beautiful." "Put it on me?" "I should go". "Yes" "Yes" Does anyone see where I'm going with this?  The couples that became endgame shared in fairly deep conversations before their kiss.  Were they always being 100% honest with themselves?  Definitely not, especially when we know Feyre was still trying to deny what she felt for Rhys at that time.  But they still shared more than polite, surface level conversations.  They were somewhat raw and made themselves vulnerable to one another. Was the build up to Feyre and Tamlin's first kiss romantic?  Absolutely in a very Hallmark kind of way but SJM isn't that sort of author.  If two characters are not dealing with something that has emotional depth or if they're not fighting before their kiss than chances are not good that a couple will be endgame.  Her romances feel heavy and intense to me, not sugary and sweet.   She could take things in a completely different direction in the next book, rewrite the way Elain and Az are around one another or create sides of the characters personality that we've yet to see.  But I would bet that the way Elain and Az are currently written as individuals and together means they won't be happening.  

[lunarsands]

Hi buddy! I'm sending another round of questions for Sunday Writeblr Ask-A-Thon! My question to you is: Do any of your characters have any favourite media, real or stuff you made up?

Hello! Hmm, I'll have to go with hypothetical answers for some of this I think, but I'll start with the modern magic one:

Helios the technomancer would watch those "How It's Made" shows and sit there complaining the whole time how inconsiderate the electronic gadget segments are because it's obvious the mass production facilities didn't consult with an actual technomancer before calibrating anything.

Darrien the cosmic entity would watch documentaries about space and enjoy the human's POV about the stars, including how different cultures interpreted and named constellations.

Donovan "Van" the will-o'-wisp enjoys club music of all types.

In the [untitled deity project] universe, if TV existed, the deities of flora and fauna would watch nature documentaries and take notes on changes they could make to possibly mess with the mortals' understanding of certain plants and animals, or take inspiration to create new ones, because the two would be equally fascinated by how mortals perceive things.

In the Feathers & Flowers universe, if TV/Internet existed, Aurelia the winged messenger would watch as many gardening videos as possible to learn more about plants so she could impress, or at least assist, Fiore the plant-hybrid with her herbalist shop. Fiore would probably listen to classical music or soft jazz since plants respond well to those types of music.

The theme of documentaries continues with a joke scenario @cynthrey and I came up with of a couple of thousand-year-old characters who watched technology evolve to the point where the history of their own family was being covered, complete with rumors and inaccurate theories about their shorter-lived siblings (and themselves, when they disappeared from history to avoid attention). They debate if it would be a risk to reveal themselves to correct these inaccuracies, but then one of them simply resorts to writing "historical fanfiction" and gives all the "characters" the real personalities that they knew they actually had.

[doomxdriven]

@soulxfragments (continued from x):

Risen slow; hands coiled around blood soaked sand with dust rolling across the floor like a low fog hung.  Crimson continues to seep around her fingers, and down into the reishi around her feet.  Aware that she was leaving herself exposed for an attack, she was preparing for the worst case scenario.  Would he come after her?  An easy target perhaps, being distracted by a much closer opponent. Warning bells rang violently within her mind.  Her focus shifted, and she found herself suddenly on the receiving end of an attack from behind - just as she had predicted.  Her initial plans altered, she spins around to throw the sand in an arch towards the encroaching bala with spires of violet wisps dancing around the grains like strikes of lightning.  She could have dodged.  Let the bala take out her target.  But she wanted to dispatch it.  Greedy in her desire to eliminate that which had harmed her.  This would not be without risk, but it would promise a high reward if she were successful. As the bala raced towards them, the sand would seem to linger far longer in the air than it normally would.  A soft, ember-like glow growing as the bala neared, igniting rapidly upon the attack reaching the very edge of the arc.  She wasn’t sure if she could destroy it, so she would deflect it instead.  Allow the explosive attack be met with a thousand smaller ones to either send it high, or split it apart so it couldn’t reach her or her target.

However that wasn’t all the sands did.  As they unleashed upon the bala, a retched scream like a thousand, inhuman howls would echo through the cavity of menos forest.  A drawn out screech as if its origins came from a beast of some sort.  It would last only until the explosion fizzled out completely. She’s on the move again as the bladed appendage slices downward to try and catch her back.  However its met with only sand - bloodied sand.  The cane dissolving as she lands to the side of it; like parchment rested to embers.  No smoke, fire, ash, or smell as it burned away to reveal the zanpakutou in grip. Its head turned.  Jaw unhinged with a violent roar towards its speedy prey.  Another flicker of reiatsu as it tries to draw its appendage away from the sand it embedded it into.  However its efforts would be met with intense resistance like something beneath the pool of sanguine, were holding on tight.

If Parca hadn't been so miffed right now, he might have remarked on how well Jezebel was performing while engaging that Hollow, and how skillful a display she was putting on. But Parca was miffed, and so he goes off in incredibly dramatic fashion, throwing his hands up in Jezebel and the Hollow's general direction after the former had deflected his Cero, and he yells,

"Wow, woah, W O W, okay, I see how it be!!! I ask all nicely, like one of those gentle-men, and ya two just keep on keeping on, I'M SHOCKED, SURPRISED, ASTOUNDED, DUMBFOUNDED, dare I say, uhhhhhhhhhhhmmmmm, what that word be…. oh yeah, FLABBER-GASTED."

Parca, bringing one hand over their face, begins to sigh heavily, as an indigo colored aura begins to gather around them. Almost as soon as that aura started pooling around Parca, the Hollow Jezebel was fighting would freeze in place.

Jezebel would likely feel an odd sensation come over her just then, too, along with whispers of a voice not her own filling her head and the air around her. These whispers would speak not to Jezebel, but something deep inside her, to the traces of Hollow-esque Reiryoku immersed deep within her Fullbringer Soul.

The whispers would no doubt be like a mountain dropping upon Jezebel, but she would find that she wasn't beholden to them, compelling as they were; something else within her Soul, something all Fullbringer's thankfully possessed, would ultimately protect her.

That Hollow on the other hand wasn't so lucky.

The immobilized Hollow's eyes would begin to glow with a color similar to the aura that had gathered around Parca, and it's then that Parca can be heard cackling, before he demands, "Go on and die now, will ya?"

The Hollow, adhering to Parca's words, quickly charges up a Cero within it's jaws and then launches the blast at its own body, blowing it apart. The explosion would result in no small amount of sand being kicked up among the clusters of stone trees-- the ones that hadn't been shattered-- leaving the surrounding area cloaked in a sandy cloud.

Visibility was definitely hampered in these conditions, but Jezebel and her Origimai wouldn't have to look too hard to find Parca. The moment that Hollow had ended its own life, Parca had put his Sonido to work, getting far closer to Jezebel than she may have realized.

"H e y," says Parca, in an ominous, near-whisper, his towering figure looming behind Jezebel as he leaned over and stared down at her.

The mask-like visage and currently pitch black voids of Parca's eye sockets are there to greet Jezebel as he continues in that eerie, near whisper of his, "this be a lot better, right, just the two of us? Can't ignore me now."

[iviarellereads]

The Neverending Story, Chapter 1 - Fantastica In Danger

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Neverending Story, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

In which the story truly begins.

With a full-page illustrated A(1)

All the beasts in Howling Forest were safe in their caves, nests, and burrows.

It's midnight, and a storm is raging. Then, a light sips through the woods. Not lightning: a will-o'-the-wisp(2) that's lost its way, quite unusual even in Fantastica. It carries a white flag, making it a messenger of one sort or another.(3)

It finds a clearing, where three figures sit at a campfire.

There's a giant, who looks like he's made of grey stone and almost ten feet tall. The wotw(4) recognizes him as one of the rock-chewers, who are few in number and slowly eating the mountain range far from the Howling Forest. His vehicle is a great bicycle with two millstone wheels.

There's a night-hob, not much bigger than the wotw, who might have come from anywhere in Fantastica but likely came from somewhere far from the Howling Forest, because his vehicle is a bat.

And, there's a tiny, who live even further away than the rock chewers' mountain, but here he is with a pink snail mount.

The wotw is curious at three such different creatures sharing a fire, until it sees that they all also bear the white flags or scarves of messengers. It approaches, and is greeted warmly. They exchange names: the wotw is Blubb, the tiny is Gluckuk, the night-hob is Vooshvazool, and the giant is Pyornkrachzark.

The wotw really shouldn't stop for too long, as it carries a secret message for the Childlike Empress. The others say they're sure they carry the same message, and some discussion is had, describing how something ominous is happening in the far reaches of Fantastica. Objects, places, even whole features like lakes disappearing, leaving nothing, not even a hole, behind.(5)

Still, the wotw doesn't know the way to the Childlike Empress's tower, and the others won't share what they know unless the wotw will light their way. The wotw refuses and takes off, and the others decide to make their own way as well.

In the school attic, the clock strikes nine, and Bastian is a little confused to come to awareness of his surroundings, as he'd immersed so deeply into the story. He usually likes stories that are exciting, or funny, or make him dream. He can build such a story so vividly in his senses that he completely forgets himself until it's over.(6) He's glad he's up here reading instead of in his classroom, as this is just the right book for him.

In Fantastica, a week later, the night-hob arrives first, or believes he does because he's flying. He circles his bat over the great garden of the Labyrinth, designed entirely to amuse and delight, since no one known in Fantastica would ever dream of trying to harm the Childlike Empress. He continues flying over it until he reaches the Ivory Tower, her residence.

The word 'tower' might give someone who has never seen it the wrong idea. It had nothing of the church or castle about it. The Ivory Tower was as big as a whole city. From a distance it looked like a pointed mountain peak twisted like a snail shell. Its highest point was deep in the clouds. Only on coming closer could you notice that this great sugarloaf consisted of innumerable towers, turrets, domes, roofs, oriels, terraces, arches, stairways, and balustrades, all marvelously fitted together. The whole was made of the whitest Fantastican ivory, so delicately carved in every detail that it might have been taken for the latticework of the finest lace.

The night-hob landed lower down, at a stable, where his bat is taken and he's offered a ceremonial welcome cup. The ritual is observed, and the bat is taken to a stall, where it falls deeply asleep. In fact, not a single animal in the stable is making a noise.

The night-hob is also pretty exhausted after the trip, but hears a voice call out to him: the tiny arrived first, after all. And, he says, to see the Childlike Empress one must put in for an appointment, as so many messengers have come from all across Fantastica. The night-hob is unconvinced, so the Tiny takes him out to the High Street, where people and creatures of all sorts are in discussion. The menace of the nothing has broken out everywhere, and the Childlike Empress is ill, which could be the cause or a symptom.

Soon, the wotw and the giant also arrive.

During the long waiting period, the four so unalike messengers became good friends. From then on they stayed together. But that's another story and shall be told another time.

=====

(1) If your edition doesn't have illustrations for the letters, I'm so sorry because they're very fun. This one, for me, is the giant on a stone bicycle, the tiny riding his snail in one top corner, and the night-hob on his bat in the other top corner, with the will-o'-the-wisp in the triangle of the A. I do plan to describe my illustrations for the book, unless folks find it tedious. There are only 26, after all, one for each numbered chapter. And yes, somehow, at least this translation managed to keep the letters at the beginning of each chapter, which I assume was a thing in the original German text as well. It's so utterly charming, and really drives home that it's a book about books, you know? Bravo everyone involved. (2) These little creatures have quite a storied history. They're related to jack-o-lanterns, the reason we carve pumpkins at Hallowe'en. They typically symbolize an unattainable hope or goal, or the strange and sinister. In German, it would be "irrlicht" or "irrwisch" or, properly, with a capital i, being a noun… (which, side note, if you ever notice someone capitalizing all their nouns, they probably learned German, and in historical documents, it's a remnant of English's Germanic origin that lasted well into modern English usage) and, uh, to wind back to it, Irrlicht is along the lines of a wandering/deceiving light,"wisch" just replaces light for wisp, and it's a shared folklore across much of Europe. All the creatures of Fantastica, I believe, have some grounding in our world's myths, legends, and peoples. (Oh, we'll come back to that.) (3) Is a bearer of a flag of truce not also a kind of messenger? I ask you. (4) It's this or have to copy and paste it 'cause it's a pain in the wrist to have to reach for all those hyphens. (5) Somehow, "nothing" is always scarier than something. (6) My jealousy knows no bounds. I like a lot of books with vivid descriptions, but I process none of it. Aphantasia comes in many degrees, but I grew up believing that people who said they *saw* things were exaggerating or making it up. No, they really do, most people even, supposedly. Sometimes I think I can conjure up reasonably vivid sounds of things I've heard, but not always, and never a smell or taste or feeling.

[tobiasdrake]

Here we go. Tackling my first Gym.

Full disclosure, I like to use randomized teams that get rerolled periodically for funsies. Heading into Artazon, I pulled:

Surskit

Gimmighoul

Ralts

Charcadet

Steenee

Nacli

Seeing that this Gym is Grass-Type, I get a little nervous. Charcadet has Type Advantage, but Gimmighoul seems like dead weight, Ralts is super weak, and Surskit and Nacli are at a Disadvantage. Can Charcadet carry this battle?

I remember that Surskit is Water/Bug. Bug is good against Grass. Does Bug resist Grass? I don't remember. We'll take our chances. Save Charcadet for late-stage and lead with Surskit.

Challenge begins.

Pokemon 1: Petilil

I don't have Petilil recorded in my manual Pokedex so I can't check its stats, but I remember it being pretty weak. It's basically a baby, little more formidable than Ralts.

I, however, have made an error. It turns out Surskit does resist Grass so that neutralizes his Water weakness. But. Uh. Here's his movelist:

Water Gun

Quick Attack

Sweet Scent

Soak

GUESS WHAT I FORGOT TO MAKE SURE HE HAD.

Shit. Shit. I go for a Quick Attack. It does some damage. Not much. Surskit's Physical Attack is too shit for a 40-power off-Type Physical attack to win the day. Petilil answers with a Mega Drain that does little damage to Surskit but recovers nearly all of its HP. This is a battle of attrition I'm not gonna--

Wait, did that say Soak?

...

Ha! I just had the stupidest idea. Enjoy your Water Type, Petilil.

I switch to Steenee. Petilil is no longer getting STAB on Mega Drain and Steenee's Grass type resists it. It does jack all. Steenee erases Water-Type Petilil in a single Razor Leaf.

Pokemon 2: Smolive

Oh my god, it's adorable.

This is a new one. I have no idea what it's capable of. It's probably a Special Attacker given its small size, but I figure we'll roll the dice. Steenee uses Play Nice to cut Smolive's Physical power. Smolive responds with a Tackle.

Okay. Good. I hit it with another Play Nice for good measure, then swap in Surskit. Surskit tanks the next Tackle easily and gives Smolive a good Soak. Smolive replies with Razor Leaf, but its Physical power is cut in half and it lost its STAB bonus. All it could hope for was that high crit rate, which did not come through.

Back to Steenee. Her Razor Leaf is much more effective.

Pokemon 3: Sudowoodo

LOL. My dude, that is not a plant. XD Oh my god.

When I finish laughing, I go ahead and send off the Razor Leaf that will--

Oh. Right. Tera Crystal Thingamabob is a thing. Now Sudowoodo is, in fact, a plant. I didn't expect that. My Razor Leaf barely nicks it.

New plan. Steenee resists Trailblaze, whatever that is, and she's holding up well against his Rock Throws. Well enough to utterly sabotage him. As the fight progresses, Steenee administers a full set of six Play Nices before she gets low on HP.

His next move is going to be Rock Throw, but even with Type Disadvantage, I think Charcadet can take a few 1/4-strength Rock Throws.

I switch in Charcadet, since Sudowoodo's crystallizing has made him Grass-Type. I'm right. One Rock Throw only takes off about 1/4 of his HP despite the super-effectiveness. Hit Sudowoodo with a Will-O-Wisp for good measure, just to really pile on the neutering.

That winds up being a good idea. It takes three Embers to bring down Sudowoodo, and he's got the edge in Speed thanks to the two Trailblazes he tried to use against Steenee earlier. Rather than failing at the last second, Charcadet winds up pulling through with 3 HP left to go.

Whew! That felt weirdly intense, but I pulled it--

...

Oh goddammit, I should have Tera Crystal Thinged Charcadet. >.< Okay. Takeaway for next time.

[mikazukinika]

II. Shameless [Once]

"O YOUNG PEACOCK" TAGS & ABOUT → Summary: Zhongli confronts Tartaglia about a few interesting rumors he has heard around the Harbor. Some pretenses are finally dropped and yet new lines are drawn between them all the same. Scene Rating: M (suggestive + explicit language) Scene Length: 1.4k words, about 5 minutes NEXT → READ ON AO3 → MORE FROM THIS AUTHOR →

O Proud Peacock, gleaming in green Didn’t I tell you not to go near brides-to-be? Lips painted red, you will learn temptation is sweet

Travel is good for someone as young as Childe. Chances to stretch his legs beyond Snezhnaya - which to his mind is like a childhood backyard - came to him more often once he joined the Fatui. Never before, however, has he traveled beyond the Cryo Archon’s reach for more than a week or three - a month at most - before returning to his post. The Tsaritsa’s current machinations are so grand that it requires even him, with his young age and new position, to travel far and long. Or perhaps the other Harbingers had interfered again and pushed to send him as far away as possible.

But maybe what he means to say is that Liyue is good for him.

“It seems your popularity has increased, Childe,” Zhongli says one day over tea made from calla lilies. Freshly imported from Mondstadt for their calming effect, he had explained earlier.

Childe tilts his head at the odd observation, briefly wondering if Zhongli is testing him in implicit communication again. He explores the possibility by calmly taking a sip of his tea and asking, “Oh? Have the children at the wharf been talking about me again?”

From the small smile Zhongli gives to the glassy surface of his tea, Childe knows he was right to tread carefully - or maybe he is amused by the irony of his getting along with the local youth. “I’m afraid the rumors I have been hearing are not appropriate for children’s ears.”

This has Childe perking up in interest, but outwardly, he only raises a silent brow. Though the Northland Bank and the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor are business partners, he has made sure up until this point to keep his less-than-moral activities from impacting their relationship. It would be a shame if relations were to break down after all this time. It has nothing to do with not being able to see Zhongli as regularly as he does now if their ties were to be cut, no, not at all.

Thus, Childe forces a thin smile to his lips and hopes his tightened grip around his teacup isn’t obvious. “I’m not sure I understand, xiansheng.” 

“Oh?” He thinks Zhongli’s eyes flicker with a wisp of amusement, but it happens too quickly for him to be sure. “Ms. Ying’er of the Scent of Spring spoke quite highly of you, though?”

Childe chokes, flying into a fit of coughs as he processes the man’s words. So it wasn’t my imagination! His cheeks are flaming red by the time he manages to get himself under control, and he twists his shoulders away from Zhongli to cover his mouth with the back of his hand. “Xiansheng,” he protests quietly, painfully embarrassed, but the man has been drinking his tea calmly all the while.

“I must say that I was quite surprised. I never expected such rumors to emerge considering your reputation.” 

Yes, Liyue has been good for Childe.

He had strolled into this foreign land with all the swagger of a top-notch bard, sharp as a jackknife and hungry for power. What met him instead were tedious meetings, a perpetual flow of paperwork, and the occasional retrieval of loan payment from those too weak to challenge him. And then… Zhongli. Liyue’s grandest prize if anyone were to ask Childe, but one that remains nevertheless unattainable. Frustrated by their little song and dance (i.e., Childe flirting mercilessly with a stone wall that only on rare occasions replied with thank-yous), the young soldier had no qualms seeking pleasure in others if only to confirm that he still “has it.”

Well… not quite.

The people of Liyue, after getting over their initial wariness of him, are no longer shy about their attraction to his looks, money, and power. He would not usually indulge, but the long stay in the region and the thought in the back of his mind that there isn’t a soul here to judge or punish him for any choice that he makes have changed the game - until now. Suddenly, Childe cares very much about what Zhongli thinks of him.

The gears in his mind turn before he makes a spontaneous, definitely dangerous, decision.

A thrill of anticipation dances down the young harbinger’s spine and he gives the man across from him a pretty little smile. “I’m surprised as well,” he begins casually. “To think you would be so interested in my private affairs as to confront me directly.” His voice drops to a seductive baritone. Slowly, as if tasting each word before it left his lips, “Is this an invitation, xiansheng?”

There is a moment of silence in which lust-darkened blues meet calm pools of gold. Zhongli breaks eye contact first to take yet another infuriatingly calm sip of his calla lily tea.

“Surely, it isn’t so strange for me to be concerned, as your teacher, if you are using my lessons to worm your way into the beds of Liyue’s eligible young men and women.”

“Afraid I’ll ruin them for any other lover?”

At this, Zhongli gives a short and sharp huff through his nose, brow crinkling in annoyance. The diplomat across from him has long since learned that this action is his equivalent for clicking one’s tongue. 

Childe throws his head back and lets out a hearty laugh, a part of him exhilarated by this conversation. It is the most explicit he has been with Zhongli in all this time, and he loves the feeling. The consultant, for his part, lets his lashes flutter in surprise at the unexpected outburst before fixing the roguish redhead with a reproachful stare.

“You’ve dropped all pretenses ever since I caught you stabbing your food with your chopsticks,” he notes. 

Childe shrugs, a lazy grin pulling on his lips and eyes dancing with unbridled joy. “You’ve already seen me weak,” he says, referencing his clumsy use of chopsticks as well, but he knows the underside of his words is still brushed with lust. “And I daresay we both like it better this way.”

Zhongli’s gaze snaps to Childe’s teasing expression as if he had never expected the Snezhnayan to get a read on him like this. His lazy grin has softened to that signature smile that makes his eyes glitter like noctilucous jade found unexpectedly in a glowing cavern. In other words… 

“In the many months we have shared each other’s company, I have yet to understand the meaning of that smile,” Zhongli says thoughtfully.

And then Childe is freezing in place as a gloved hand gently cups his chin, tilting his jaw this way and that as the consultant examines his face as if it were an expensive, one-of-a-kind jade vase. The other hand grasps one of Childe’s wrists, keeping him still as if the man isn’t aware that it’s completely unnecessary. Childe couldn’t move if he wanted to. He doesn’t dare breathe, except to carry on the conversation lest Zhongli realizes what he is doing and stops. “What smile?”

The consultant’s eyes bore into his own and it is only then that Childe realizes just how close the man is. If his heart wasn’t already pounding away at his chest like a man trapped in a room with a starving beast, it is most certainly doing so now. He swallows thickly, eyes darting down to Zhongli’s exquisitely-shaped, oh-so-close mouth. I could kiss him, comes the delirious realization. 

“The one that you give me when you’re thinking something shameless.”

A beat of silence passes as the words hang between them on a thread pulled taught. Slowly, slowly, said pretty little smile spreads over the redhead’s lips once more, like sweet jam. “So you do know what it means,” Childe breathes. He wants nothing more than to lean in and capture the man’s mouth with his own right here, right now, in front of all the people bustling around their little stone table on the outdoor terrace. 

But Zhongli’s gaze remains unyielding, and all he gets in response is a short and low, “Hm.” Then the man pulls out of his personal space in one fluid movement, settling gracefully into his own seat as if nothing had ever happened.

And Childe takes that personally.

NEXT →

[goldenvicious]

Nuzlocke: Continued + Vs: Hop and Marnie + Enter: Pringle + Evo: SNES + RIP: SNES...

I am BACK

After who knows how long, I'm back in me nuzlocke. I may have forgotten about this, but I remembered today.

I walked out of the Pokemon gym and encountered Sonia at the entrance waiting for me. She invited me to a restaurant to celebrate my victory against Melony.

Once I arrived at the restaurant, Hop was waiting there to celebrate with us. Sonia talks about researching the Darkest Days recently and-

Wait. That tapestry in the back of looks interesting...

I think it's actually the last bit of the story of the legend.

The sword and the shield (which turned out to be the pokemon we encountered in the Slumbering Wield) were hidden away after they helped to stop the Darkest Day. At least, that's my understanding of it.

We end up discussing it more with Sonia over some food, coming up with the goal of snooping around the Hero's Bath in Circhester for more info.

Once we're there, we have a talk about the place's history. The Hero's Bath is where the heroes of Galar cleaned themselves of their battle wounds after stopping the Darkest Day. Perhaps Hop and I could be the next heroes.

To prove ourselves as the next heroes, Hop challenges me to a battle, and I gladly accept.

You are challenged by Pokémon Trainer Hop!

He leads with his Dubwool while I lead with Vee the Flareon. Not knowing what he could do, I decided to burn him with Will-O-Wisp. He uses Defense Curl before I can Burn him. After he uses Defense Curl again, I used Fire Fang, doing about half of Dubwool's HP (with the Hail and Burn damage helping). After Another Defense Curl, I use Fire Fang once again. Now at Veeery low HP, I Try to use Quick Attack to finish him off but Hop uses a Hyper Potion, healing it back to full. Fortunately, Quick Attack lands a Critical Hit, bringing Dubwool down to less than Half thanks to Hail and Burn. Dubwool Growls me, reducing my attack, letting it live yet another Fire Fang. Quick Attack doesn't net the KO, but Hail and Burn damage do.

His next Pokemon is Pincurchin, so I send out Dig Dug the Excadrill to counter it. Well, first I set up Stealth Rocks for the rest of this battle and tank a Bubble Beam pretty well. Fortunately, one High Horsepower is enough to KO Pincurchin in one hit.

Cinderace is next, so I sent out Goldeneye the Inteleon to deal with it. After taking Stealth Rock damage, a single Snipe Shot KOs Cinderace.

Hop's 4th mon is Snorlax, so Striker the Urshifu comes out to deal with it in a single Critical Brick Break.

Hop's final Pokemon is a Corviknight, and I decide that Goldeneye is the best mon to deal with it since Vee is battered and bruised. Goldeneye uses Scald, which doesn't KO but does land the 30% Burn, which lets it take the following Drill Peck really well. A Snipe Shot secures the battle as a Victory, with quite a few pokemon leveling up during it.

After the battle, Sonia decides to try and explore the Slumbering Wield while Hop plans on taking on the rest of the gyms.

After Hop runs off, Sonia decides to tell me that Leon was worried about Hop. He seemed to have a gloomy air around him, but has seemed to have shaken it off by now. With Hop appearing better, Sonia decides to head off, leaving me alone with my next target in mind: Spikemuth.

Once I move to Route 9, I encounter a Jellicent. I catch him in a Net Ball and named him Pringle.

After adding a new buddy to my PC, I decided to battle the local trainers on the route, such as a Fisher and a Dancer.

I also decided to swap out Snips for a little bit since they were leveling up too fast. I put SNES the Magnemite in their place, evolving it up to a Magneton thanks to EXP Candies and Rare Candies I had in my bag.

After the battles, I ran across some Team Yell Grunts harassing the person that gave me the Rotom Bike. The grunts want to prevent people from going to Spikemuth and pretect a Drednaw for some reason... anyways, I am asked to battle them so I do.

You are Challenged by Team Yell Grunt!

They start with Galarian Linoone and I send out NES to lead. I use Discharge and put Linoone down to Red HP, and Linoone tries to use Counter, but Fails. The ever-present Hail KOs the Linoone.

Pangoro is next, so I send out Vee to cripple it with a Burn. Will-O-Wisp lands before Pangoro uses Taunt to prevent me from using it again. I use Fire Fang to bring Pangoro to Red Health and Pangoro retaliates with Crunch, lowering Vee's defense. Thanks to Hail, Burn, and one Silk Scarf boosted Quick Attack, Pangoro goes down.

And with that, the Team Yell Grunt is defeated. The duo of grunts run away back to Spikemuth on the back of Drednaw. Grateful for saving him, the person from earlier upgraded my bike so I'm able to ride on water. Neat. With my bike upgraded, I move through the rest of Route 9 to hopefully reach Spikemuth no problem. I encounter a few more trainers along the way, but it came with a devastating result.

As soon as he was added to the team, SNES was killed by a Pyukumuku with Innards Out. I had them for less than a day but he's already DEAD. I wasn't even able to form a bond with them AND I wasted all my EXP and Rare Candies on them! CURSE YOU, FISHER MARINA!!!!

After mourning SNES for an appropriate amount of time (8 hours) and re-adding Snips to my team, I head to Spikemuth only to find the doors into it locked. Great...

Well I guess this is where the story ends, roll credit- wait. Marnie is calling me over from around the side to help me sneak in via a secret entrance. But since she's my rival, she feels obligated to challenge me to a battle before I'm allowed entry to Spikemuth. sure. why not at this point.

You are challenged by Pokémon Trainer Marnie!

She leads with a Liepard and I send out Snips. A single Dazzling Gleam deals with Liepard easily, even taking a surprise Sucker Punch really well.

Toxicroak is next, and Air Slash disposes of it in a flash. This is beginning to feel unfair, Snips is too strong.

For Morpeko, I switch to Dig Dug Land a High Horsepower, KOing Morpeko in one hit. It did inflict me with Torment tho, so :/

The next pokemon is Scrafty, so I send in Striker to finish the battle with his newly learned Close Combat. It KOd in one hit.

And with that, Marnie is defeated. After beating her, she allowed me into Spikemuth. Once I'm in Spikemuth, I head into the Pokemon Center and heal up. This is where I will stop for today, and next time I post (whenever that may be), I'll be battling Piers. Farewell!

Team:

Striker the Urshifu

Snips the Togekiss

Goldeneye the Inteleon

Vee the Flareon

Dig Dug the Excadrill

Princess the Tsareena

[freeroaming-curiosity]

Gym Badge 2:

Oppy walked on the beach, to where she had agreed to meet Broly. She found him there, practicing some kind of techniques

“You’re late”

Sorry

“Let us begin”

Broly started by sending out a Machop, while Oppy opened with Vinebud

Ok Vinebud! Let’s start strong! Magical Leaf!

A flurry of prismatic leaves assails the Machop, damaging it. The Machop responds with a Karate Chop and lands a critical hit, fainting Vinebud. 

You did good, Vinebud. It’s time for our sneaky trick! You’re up Candela!

Oppy threw a Dream Ball, and out popped a shiny Litwick. The Machop tried to hit it with Low Kick, but Candela was not affected. Candela then responded with successive Fire Spins, until the Machop was fainted. The same thing happened with Broly’s Makuhita, along with Candela using Night Shade a few times to faint the opposing Pokemon. 

Hehe we’re doing good!

“Don’t think you’ve won yet.”

Broly then sent out a Pancham,which proceeded to use Bulk Up. Candela responded by using Will O Wisp on it. The Pancham then used Power Trip, fainting the Litwick

What was that?!

“Surprised? Now feel the wrath of a Saiyan! Forth, Pancham! To glory!”

Oppy collected her cool, then sent out Jutsu. Ok Jutsu, remember what you learned with Zapple!

Pancham tried to connect with Circle Throw, but missed. Jutsu took this opportunity to land a Skitter Smack, damaging the Pancham. Pancham tried to hit back with Low Sweep, but Jutsu dodged, hitting again with Skitter Smack. Again and again the Nincada hit the Pancham with Skitter Smack, taking a few hits in return but not many. With that, the Pancham fainted, and Oppy had won!