#and is exhasuted from it

[autisticlee]

finally scheduled appointment for eds evaluation and the soonest available appointment is in a year 💀 but at least it's something and maybe I can get help for my achy floppy joints or something

[bejeweledmp3]

computer how do i stop feeling insecure on my writting so that can i write. computer please

[mayclair]

the last place you’d expect to be objectified at is an amusement park and yet……..

[riotshotguns]

absolutely shattered rn hearing about the damage helene is doing in appalachia

[gay-dorito-dust]

Matt would be so reasuring upon hearing pancied breathing and eratic heartbeat, hearing and honing in on it, as well as he could easily pick up on the uneveness of your hands; picking up on how uncertain fingers fiddled with the bottom of your shirt in an attempt to self sooth.

He would reach over for those very fingers, enclosing them within his steady and certain hands, close to his palm as his thmb rubs reassuing and calming patterns and words upon your skin. Matt's paitence is unwavering as he gently tugs you towards him, him softly shushing you oddly grounding as your head rests upon his chest to listen to his heart, listen to his breathing and follow by example.

'i am right here,' he tells you soflty, not wanting to it barely above a whipser and light as a feather, 'listen to my voice, focus on it, focus on me.' He adds as he listens in on your heart periodically aswell as your words, all the while he acted acordingly in helping you find your feet once more, letting you breath him in and focus all of your sense on him and him alone.

'Take your time, there's no rush in getting better.' Matt reminds you when he could tell you were feeling as though you were taking his time away from far more important matters -elevating your heart once more momentarily- forcing him into acting as he kisses your forhead and squeezed your hand to remind you thst he wasn't going anywhere, not until he was certain that you were okay.

Matt was paitient, he wasn't loosing time on you. He was more then willing to spend the day with you if that's what will help you, and when he does feel you calm down as well as sense you calm he would smile sweetly as he kisses your forhead in pride. 'you did amazing, im so proud of you sweetheart.' He would say to you in a hushed tone, kissing your forhead once more as he watched you close you eyes, exhasuted as you cuddled yourslef closer to him.

Matt would do this a thousand times over again if he must to bring you reassurance, to help you reclaim control over yourself, to never allow your mind to ovetake you. He was there for you and would never dare to think otherwise, sometimes you'd wish he took his own advice...

[candycandysprettyworld]

Let’s play each other till we collapse from exhasution.

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Slaving away in the bowels of Octavinelle as an anenome, Ace finds himself desperate to find a way out of his mess. Being put under the watch of a quiet Octavinelle second year thrusts an opportunity at Ace. Ace decides that, yes, Finn Clearcove would definitely be a help in this situation. It goes about as well as expected. (It does have a part 2, but I'll see how well this goes before rewriting that XD)

This is a rewrite of my first ever Finn fic, over a full year later. Please stick around to the end, I've got some special words for ya'll. (Here's the original, but pls don't look DON'T LOOK it's embarrassing/hj) Art for banner by @authoruio

Warnings: Swearing, forced labour, mentions of blood, that's about it Word count: 5239

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Anenome-Free Gaurauntee! (Hopefully)

Ace Trappola had fucked up. Now, this may seem unsurprising to most. Ace could never keep himself out of trouble. Whether it be running his mouth mouth or acting brashly, his actions often landed him in hot water.

This time, though, Ace had really fucked up.

The ghastly purple and blue anenome protruding from his head like some vile fungus was the bane of his existence. Not only did it look ridiculous and showcase his failures to anyone with a pair of eyes, but it turned him into a living puppet that bastard Azul could pull and contort as he pleased.

Ace was so confident when he made that contract. He never once thought he'd be kissing his freedom goodbye when he scrawled his signature onto that damning page.

Ugh, if only he'd known how many other poor souls had also made contracts and that he wouldn't have a chance. Maybe then he wouldn't be in this mess.

"Or maybe you wouldn't be in this mess if you didn't make a contract at all and asked Riddle for help or something." Yuu had said pointedly, and Ace could only groan in frustration and regret.

Now, Ace was standing in the VIP room in front of Azul's polished and tidy desk, wondering why he had been called here.

He didn't do anything wrong, did he? Floyd wasn't going to squeeze him again, was he? Oh no, anything but that, his ribs still hurt from last time-

"Don't look so terrified," Azul said, his smooth, suave voice laced with amusement. "You haven't done anything wrong. This time. But you're cutting it awfully close. I decided it would be best that I be generous and warn you that you're riding a fine line, Trappola. Your next punishment will be much harsher if you continue fighting against paying your dues. You're almost worse than the Savanaclaw anenomes."

There was a brief silence, and Ace quickly nodded, his gut tightening as he wondered what could possibly be even harsher than what was already dished out.

Azul checked his watch. "Your break ends soon. You best get going. But while I have you here, I'll let you know we're holding an event to commemorate the sports tournaments this weekend. Further details will be announced in time, but Floyd will be playing for the second year's, and Jade will be working front of house. You," Azul pointed at Ace with his cane. "Will be in the back because I can not have your abysmal attitude ruining the experience for the guests."

"Wait," Ace spluttered. "I have basketball games on the weekend too, I can't-"

"Your games are midmorning." Azul interrupted calmly. "You can work in the afternoons and evenings."

"But I'll be exhasuted-"

"Then you're lucky to be working in the kitchens and not running around for customers. Aren't I just so benevolent?" Azul's smile was stupidly smug as he spoke. "Of course, you will need someone watching you and the others while Jade and Floyd are absent. Hmm, I think Finn should be up to the task. He can keep you all in check."

"Who?" Ace blurted. Finn? Who was Finn? The name was vaguely familiar, but there were so many students in Night Raven that it could be anybody.

"Finn Clearcove. One of my second years."

As Ace eyed Azul wearily, that feeling of recognition sparked again.

Finn Clearcove. He'd heard that name before. When did-

Ah. Ace remembered now. When he and the others were helping Yuu and Grim investigate the strange freak accidents orchestrated by Savanaclaw, Finn was one of the students on their list of possible targets.

They found him in the library, reading silently in a dark corner. Ace almost couldn't believe that such a tiny, though definitely not light, guy was on their list at all. Sure, the dorm leader was small too, but he carried himself in a way that demanded respect and let you know he was powerful. This guy didn't give that vibe at all.

Their attempts at talking to Finn failed drastically as Finn's piercing eyes stared right through them, and he told them into to leave in a way that hinted at consequences if they did not listen.

Ace didn't really think about Finn after that. Finn wasn't scary, and he didn't do or say anything particularly striking, like the twins or Jack did.

Now, though, Ace's mind was running a mile a minute, trying to scrape up any other memories of Finn that may have been buried under other things weighing on his mind. Nothing.

What was Finn like? Was he as bad as the twins? Did he also relish in people's suffering? Did he play around with the emotions of others, too? ...Did he need a stepstool when getting stuff from a shelf?

Ace was drowning in these thoughts even as Azul ushered him out of the VIP room and back to work, forcing him to slave away under the watchful eyes of the twins until the skies turned dark.

Ace collapsed into bed, exhausted and woke up sluggish and filled with dread. Although he was confident in his skills, the damn anenome prevented him from practising when he wanted and left him tired and grumpy even when he did have time.

Unsurprisingly, this affected his gameplay. Cut to the aftermath of that morning's game and...they lost horribly. Sure, NRC lost a lot anyways, but even as Ace wiped sweat from his forehead and chugged down water, his heart was pounding in a mix of exertion and fury at the fact that the damn anenome made this loss worse than it ever could have been.

He made so many dumb mistakes. Mistakes a beginner would make! It pissed him off and embarrassed him to no end. And that wasn't even covering the fact that the stupid thing sticking out of his head was visible for all to see! They kept pointing and laughing at it!

Ace's mood was sour, and a storm cloud might as well have spawned above his head as he got changed and stomped to Mostro Lounge.

Somehow, Ace's heart managed to sink further when he saw just how many people were there. Not just students but families who came to watch the games. Parents, siblings, extended family, the whole place was packed to the brim.

When Ace arrived at the kitchen doors, Azul and Finn were already there, quietly conversing with each other.

Ace couldn't hear what they were saying, but he wouldn't have cared anyway because he was too busy biting back a snort at the sight of Finn. The guy was even smaller than Ace remembered, probably shorter than Epel.

Finn's face was set in a blank, unreadable expression as he quietly listened to what Azul was saying and occasionally murmured a reply. The conversation came to an end when Azul caught sight of Ace and that enraging smile spread onto his face.

"Ah, Ace, I see you're on time for once. Good." He said. "Finn, this is Ace Trappola. You'll need to keep an extra eye on him today and tomorrow, I'm afraid."

Finn nodded but didn't say anything in reply. He gazed silently at Ace with bright, light purple eyes that would make one think of an amethyst stone.

Ace met Finn's gaze and was suddenly overcome with such an overwhelming feeling of dread it startled him.

Azul must have noticed because he smirked and said, "I'm sure you'll behave, Ace." And left.

Ace didn't answer, still locked in some kind of weird staring contest with this tiny second year.

Finn suddenly turned and motioned for Ace to come inside the kitchens, where the other anenomes had already started working; preparing ingredients, cooking, washing dishes, and more.

Finn pulled a kitchen uniform from the small rack near the entrance and began putting it on, then pointed to where a Pomefiore student was frantically washing an ever growing pile of dishes consisting of both kitchen equipment and dishes from the Lounge itself.

"You're on dish duty, Mister Trappola." He said, and Ace realised this was the first time he'd ever heard him speak since the library encounter. His voice was so soft that Ace almost didn't hear it, but it was firm and commanding all the same. Sharp teeth just barely poked out from his lips. Was he like the twins?

Ace nodded and forced a smile, goosebumps rippling across the skin as he looked back at Finn. When he looked away to go and start on the dishes, the feeling of dread vanished.

Ace looked back at Finn. He caught his eyes, and while Finn gestured at him to get to work and feeling returned. Ace looked back to the dishes. The feeling vanished again.

Ace frowned. Weird.

"Get moving, Trappola!" Finn, well, it was too quiet to classify as a shout, so... called. He called, and Ace hurried to work.

Ace hated dish duty. There was always more than he could keep up with, but he didn't want anything to slip out of his hands and break, so he had to take it slower than he wanted. He was always hurried and run ragged, and then those damn twins would tell him he "missed a few spots" and make him do it all again.

Ace much preferred working front of the house, charming customers, and carrying drinks and food to and fro.

Well, at least he could see the rest of the kitchen from here since his station was at the back and out of the way. Ace found himself focusing on Finn.

For someone with such chubby fingers, Finn was nimble and efficient with knives. He wielded them with an ease and familiarity that only came from years of experience.

Though Finn was small and soft-spoken, the anenomes and other staff listened to him whenever he gave those quiet but firm commands.

Some anenomes were stubborn, but Finn's withering stare got them to shut right up. If they continued to resist, well, a harsh tug on the blue and purple monstrosities on their heads was enough pain to get them in line.

Ace wondered if he missed something because, sense of dread aside, Finn was pretty hard to take seriously with the way he strained his neck to look someone in the eyes and how he needed a step stool to grab anything a bit far off the ground and the way the buttons of his uniform seemed ready to snap right off with the way it strained against his middle.

When break came around, Ace was ready to bolt and embrace his brief moment of respite when he realised the room wasn't completely empty.

Finn remained alone in the kitchen and busied himself with making two cups of tea and a small snack.

"Pretty sure we aren't allowed to do that." Ace commented. "We have to bring our own stuff. Azul's gonna take that out of your pay, you know."

There was a long stretch of silence before Finn quietly said; "It's for Jade and Azul."

Ace furrowed his brows. "Why? Are you like their assistant or something?"

Finn didn't reply. Ace decided to take that as either a yes or a maybe. He watched Finn disappear into the VIP room, where he didn't come out until the very end of the break.

When Finn returned to start prepping for the next slew of orders, Ace found himself paying a little closer attention to him and his appearance.

Well, he didn't see anything new at first. Just the same details as before. Finn was very short, very chubby, and had curly green hair pulled back into a painfully tight bun. His eyes were like shining lilac amethyst gemstones, the colour only accentuated by the... dark circles under them.

Huh. Ace didn't notice that before. Now that he really looked, though, Finn looked really exhausted. He didn't really show it in his actions or voice, but it was prominent in his eyes.

"Work, Trappola." Finn hissed, and Ace nearly jumped out of skin. How had Finn noticed? Nevermind, he had to get to work before he got in trouble.

The rest of the night went by surpsingly quickly, the pace becoming calmer as the number of customers dwindled and the sky darkened.

At 9pm, Mostro Lounge closed its doors to customers. At 11pm, Ace was finally allowed to leave now that every bit of cutlery, crockery, and cooking utensils were cleaned and packed away, and the work surfaces and tables were wiped down, and the floor was swept and mopped until the place was sparkling clean.

Ace was the last anenome to leave, exhaustion from his game and full day of working slowing him down.

However, before he left, Ace paused at the doors when he realised Finn was still there, bringing tea to the VIP room.

"You do know that Azul's not gonna pay you overtime or give you special treatment for doing all that, right?" He called. "Your shift's over."

Finn stopped walking and glanced at Ace, his usually deadpan face crinkling to form an irritated expression. "We don't tolerate loitering, Mister Trappola. Leave."

Ace felt a sudden spike of pain at the base of his anenome and laughed nervously. "Hah, right. Yeah, I'll go. You keep doing... whatever you're trying to do." He said, backing away and out of the Lounge.

When he was out of sight, Ace heard the door to the VIP room open and close.

Just how long was Finn going to be in there this time? What was he doing in there? It didn't take an entire half-hour break to give someone tea.

...Well, going out of your way to make someone tea when you aren't obligated to is pretty nice.

Ace sighed. Poor Finn. If he wasn't an assistant or trying to gain something like Ace first thought, and instead acting out of the kindness of his heart or whatever, then the shortstack was in for a nasty surprise. Azul would take full advantage of someone like that.

The next day was Finn's second and last day of watching over Ace and the other anenomes. It passed by without incident, more or less the same as the previous one.

After Finn's time there ended, and things returned to normal, Ace found himself paying attention to his presence anytime he noticed him.

He wasn't too sure why. Maybe it was that sense of dread. It did pique Ace's curiosity. He's never experienced something like that. Maybe it was Finn's unusual dedication to the finely dressed tyrants that made Ace's life hell.

Whatever the reason, Ace's observations carried on enough for him to recognise Finn had a routine that repeated day in and day out, a routine that he rarely broke from.

Finn was always at the lounge early, before any of the other staff or anenomes arrived, either talking to Azul and the twins or beginning prep for the upcoming shift.

He worked quietly and efficiently at the bar, which seemed to be his usual workstation (how had Ace not noticed him before?), methodically mixing drinks and avoiding people's eyes. He rarely spoke aside from a passing word or two to customers and co-workers.

In his brief moments of respite, when he had nothing to make, Finn would close his eyes and listen to the live band always performing at Mostro Lounge, or gaze out the large glass wall into the sea of vibrant corals and fish with a tired, melancholy expression. Or at least, that's what Ace guessed it was, Finn's face still looked more or less the same as always.

When Finn's break came around, he would busy himself with making tea (the number of cups depended on if either of the twins were there or not), then disappear into the VIP room until his break ended.

And that wasn't all. Even when Finn didn't have a shift, Ace would occasionally spot him around. Most of his time would be spent in the VIP room if he did show up, unless there was a "client" seeing Azul.

When he left, sometimes his clothes would look just a bit ruffled, and other times, his face would look just a little pink. Weird.

Ace wouldn't dream of giving a fraction more of his time to those bastards outside of what he was forced to give. He couldn't imagine willingly going in there in his free time (that is, if Finn was willing at all), but it seemed Finn didn't stop there.

Sometimes, but very rarely, Ace would catch sight of Finn having lunch with Azul and the terror twins at the cafeteria. His plate would be piled high with food, and he'd quietly eat while the other three spoke.

Finn would join in from time to time, but he only really seemed to say a word or two. Sometimes, he'd even laugh. At least Ace assumed that's what it was, if Finn covering his mouth with his hand as his shoulders shook slightly and his eyes crinkled was anything to go by. Ace wondered what they were talking about.

It was... weird. Watching Finn. Ace couldn't for the life of him figure out if Finn was a secret addition to Octavinelle's infamous trio, or some poor soul somehow forced into the role of assistant or secretary and made to follow them around.

"Is Finn... always around those three?" Ace asked another Octavinelle student during his break, gazing at the firmly shut door to the VIP room. He wasn't a creep, he wasn't going around following Finn everywhere he went! He barely knew anything about him!

The third year he was talking to shrugged. "Not always. But Finn's been hovering around them since they arrived together in their first year. No idea what he could want with them, nor do I care.. He's a weird little creep that keeps to himself, and I'm happy with that as long as he doesn't come near me."

Ace glanced back at them to ask another question but stopped when he saw them holding their hand out expectantly.

Ace growled a curse word and dug through his pockets to slap a few madol in their hand. He didn't say anything, though. It was on him for asking something from an Octavinelle student. However, he didn't entirely regret it.

Finn Clearcove was definitely... close to Azul, Jade, and Floyd in some weird way. Ace wouldn't go so far as to say they're friends, but they weren't simply strangers or acquaintances either. Ace knew Azul would rather die than let just anyone enter the VIP room as they please. There were also a few occasions when Ace witnessed Finn sway Azul's opinion in one way or another or convince him to do something.

However, Ace swore he saw Finn with Azul's study guide once. He would have thought Finn was actually an anenome too, but the second year was very much lacking the presence of an anenome on his head.

The best guess Ace could venture was that Finn worked for those three, running around like a personal assistant making tea and everything, and being run so ragged he had eyebags.

Ace mulled over all he had learned, and then, well, an idea began to form. Would it work? He had absolutely no idea. Probably not. But it was worth a shot to get out of this hell.

Trying to convince Finn to help get rid of the anenome shouldn't end too badly... right?

***

After another gruelling half shifted at Mostro Lounge, Ace sacrificed the momentary relief that was his break to instead stop Finn before he could leave with his teatray to enter the VIP room.

Finn was busy fixing a pot of tea as always when Ace came into the kitchen.

"Hey, Finn!" Ace said, coming over to stand next to him. Finn didn't reply, simply busying himself with placing the teapot onto the silver serving tray with the teacups and their matching saucers and the milk and the sugar.

Ace frowned.

"Finn! Hello, I want to talk to you!"

Finn continued to ignore him. Ace reached out to tap his shoulder, but what whatever he was going to do or say next was interrupted by Finn suddenly grabbing his hand and wrenching it back before he could even react.

Finn clutched his wrist so tight it hurt. Ace yelped and tried to pull back, but the older boy's grasp was far stronger than expected.

Finn's eyes seemed to pierce right through him, and that horrible sense of dread came crashing down on him once more.

Ace paled. One of the reasons for Finn's placement on the list of Savanaclaw's potential targets sprang forth, finally clambering free from its place buried underneath other memories.

"He has a knack for spotting weakness."

"Mister Trappola," Finn said slowly. He didn't loosen his hold. His knuckles started turning white. "I'm busy. What do you want?"

"I, uh-" Ace swallowed before continuing, deciding his freedom was worth the shortstack's wrath. "I wanted to- to ask if you could do something for me."

Finn's expression didn't change, but there was a brief flicker of interest in those creepy, iridescent eyes. "If you want something, Azul-"

"No!" Ace snapped. Then he took a deep breath and continued again. "No. Stop with the Azul advertising! Please? I want a favour from you, Finn."

For a good few minutes, there was no reply. Ace would say Finn was in a state of disbelief, but it was impossible to tell.

Finally, Finn raised an eyebrow and looked Ace up and down, then said; "Is that so?" In a tone that almost made Ace take his words back. "Well, what do you want, then? I want to leave while the tea's still hot."

To emphasise his point, Finn gently tapped on the teapot with his pointer finger.

"Uh, right. So, you and Azul seem to hang around each other an awful lot. He must trust you quite a bit, right?" Ace said quickly, silently cursing at himself as every single word came out the entirely wrong way than intended. "Well, I mean, of course he must, you're always in that VIP roon of his and- and you've changed his mind about a few things more than once. That's quite impressive, right? A guy like him doesn't seem interested in what other people have to say, unless-"

"Get on with it, Trappola." Finn interrupted, his soft voice cutting clean through Ace's own much louder one somehow.

"Right, sorry. What I'm saying is, you and Azul have some weird situation going on, and I won't pretend to understand it at all, but I do understand enough to ask that perhaps you would have mercy on this poor freshman and convince the boss man to get rid of this anenome early..?"

Finn blinked at him, and for once, Ace could actually read his expression. Disbelief. 'Better than anger, I guess..?'

"You want me to... what?"

"Get rid of this anenome!" Ace repeated, a little louder. "I can't stand being a puppet! I want this damn thing off my head! Look, I'll even help you get out from under Azul's thumb yourself in return, just please get it off!"

Finn crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at Ace, contemplating his words. Something... shifted in his eyes, though Ace couldn't really describe what it was.

On the inside, Finn wanted to laugh. He didn't know Ace all that well. Their interactions were few, and conversations, fewer. He didn't like Ace and didn't care to spend much more time around him than he needed to.

Now, though... now, he had an interesting opportunity presented to him, an opportunity in the form of an overworked and desperate freshman who did not seem to understand that the person he was talking to was not some sucker contorted to Azul's whims.

"Fine. I'll humour you. You want me to question my own housewarden for you, then? Me, not even the vice housewarden, asking Azul Ashengrotto to free a stubborn little first year from the terms of his own contract? The 'payment' you just offered me?" Finn made a noise that sounded far too much like a haughty scoff for Ace's liking. "That is bottom of the barrel scrap. For what you want me to do, I just might take your services for myself."

"I can do that!" Ace squawked, trying and failing not to sound as desperate as he felt. "As long as I'm not slaving away for that guy, I don't care!"

Finn regarded him with a bemused expression.

"And why would I want that?" He asked. "You slack off and put up a fight, Mister Trappola. Why would I agree to this when I could make the same deal with someone more obedient?"

"I- Well, I- I'll listen to you!'

Finn cocked his head to the side. "Can you prove it?"

"Yeah! If you just give me a chance, then I'll-"

"A trial period, then?" Finn asked, humming thoughtfully as Ace frantically nodded his head. "That's not a bad idea. How about this. I'll give you, ah, about a month. Do what I ask of you, and if you behave and meet my expectations, we'll negotiate further terms from there, and I'll see if I can convince Azul to release you. Deal?"

"D- wait. Do I have to do all that on top of my work as an anenome?"

Ah, so he wasn't that stupid, then. Finn hummed. "Yes. I won't be unreasonable, but you will be giving up more of your free time. Of course, whether it's something worth giving up is up to you."

Ace went quiet, quite an unusual thing for someone like him, as he pondered his options. Although Yuu was confident they could somehow find a way to get rid of the anenome, Ace wasn't too sure. He certainly couldn't get rid of it himself, and Jade and Floyd weren't going to help him unless a miracle happened.

The other anenomes and Octavinelle students didn't want to risk coming under fire, and his own dorm leader was a bit too enthusiastic at the idea of him suffering the consequences of his actions. The professors seemed uninterested in doing anything about Azul at all.

That just left... Finn. Ace could either A. Slave away until Azul completed his education at Night Raven, losing sleep and energy and the will to live, or B. Slave away while also doing things for Finn for one month, and if he impressed Finn enough then maybel he'd have a chance of losing his anenome and just doing stuff for Finn, who was quite notably not running an entire cafe, instead. Ace much preferred those odds, slim as they were.

Ace looked back at Finn, wincing at those piercing eyes, and nodded. "Deal."

There was a brief pause, and Ace became painfully aware of the fact that Finn still hadn't let him go.

"Uh-" Ace pulled, though it was futile against Finn's iron grip. "You can let me go now-"

Finn tightened his hold and pulled Ace down so they were eye level. "We're not leaving it at that, Mister Trappola." He hissed. "Hold still."

Ace couldn't bite down the shriek of surpise and mild pain that left him as Finn's free hand scratched at his skin with nails that seemed a little longer than they were before. A tiny droplet of blood bloomed on the surface of his skin, red against peach.

"Ow, what the hell-"

"Shut up." Finn growled. He swiped the droplet away with his pointer finger so that it stained his own skin. Then, he began to... well, Ace wasn't too sure what it was doing, but it looked like he was drawing a picture in the air.

Ace opened his mouth to ask Finn what the hell he was doing, but his mouth clicked shut as sparks of scarlet began to appear before his very eyes.

Ace watched in silent awe as Finn began to draw a circle of scarlet around the spot where he gripped Ace's wrist, then drew some weird symbols Ace couldn't recognise inside that circle

The pentragram-sigil-glyph-thing?- hovered like that, quivering. It made Ace feel a bit nauseous just looking at it.

Finn murmured something too quiet for Ace to hear, and the cursed circle thing pulsed, then disappeared.

"What..." Ace almost couldn't find his words for a moment. When Finn finally released his grip, the card soldier cradled his aching wrist . "What the hell was that?! That's no magic I've ever seen!"

"That," Finn said slowly, feeling the side of the teapot and frowning. "Is a binding. To ensure you keep your word. I don't make contracts like Azul."

"Is that some kind of second year spell I haven't heard about?" Ace's mouth was moving almost immediately. "Ugh, I knew my brother was hiding some cool kooky stuff from me-"

"No." Finn's curt response stopped Ace short and blinked at Finn.

"No?"

"No." Finn repeated. "You won't learn that here."

"Where did you learn that, then?"

Finn said nothing, and Ace, upon realising he wouldn't be getting a response, instead asked, "What does that do, exactly?"

"I just told you, it ensures you keep your word," Finn replied, tapping his pen against the teapot to reheat the now lukewarm water.

Ace furrowed his brows, tracing over the bruises Finn left on his poor wrist, red slowly turning purplish.

"What happens if... if I don't?"

Finn put his pen away and tilted his head at Ace. Then, he smiled. His teeth, still not fully visible to Ace, gleamed in the light. It was an... unnerving sight. Ace wasn't sure if he had ever seen Finn smile before. If this was his smiles really looked like then, well, he understood why.

"I don't think it'll come to that." Finn said softly. "But if it does... you'll be wishing you never spoke to me at all. Now, off you go. You've wasted enough of my time."

Ace hesitated for a moment, but the dull aching of his wrist was a good reminder to listen. He scrambled for the door, mumbling his goodbyes, and vanished into the fray of staff and customers beyond the kitchen.

He leaned against the wall in one of the furthest corners of the lounge, panting a little from his run. As he tried to calm down and tried to collect himself for the next shift that was bound to start soon, he wondered if he had perhaps made a mistake of some kind.

Unbeknownst to Ace, Azul Ashengrotto was leaning against the doors to the kitchen, smiling at Finn with that sharp smile only Azul was capable of.

"When I noticed you hadn't come, I didn't expect to find you terrorising poor Ace." He said without a hint of sympathy. "What a magnificent display, Finn. I didn't realise you finally got that binding spell right."

Finn laughed. "Hah, no. That's far too advanced for me. Papa's helped best he can, but I'm not quite there yet. Doesn't matter, though, Mister Trappola seems quite convinced it's real, and that's good enough for me. Besides, it wasn't all for show."

Finn held up the hand he'd been grasping Ace with, a large smile spreading onto his face and displaying all his teeth to his unflinching housewarden and... partner.

"I have a new voice now."

-End

...........................................

Super Special Author's Note: Over a year ago, on November 14th 2023, I wrote a story for my twst oc Finn. That's nothing too surprising, I like to write stories for my characters, after all. What did surprise me was how it all snowballed into where I am today, with so many wonderful moots and friends I never thought I'd meet, as well as their wonderful ocs I never thought I'd get to know.

It's been a pleasure to interact and draw and write with everybody, and I hope we're able to do all the more in the next coming year. Thank you everybody for caring so much about my skrunklies and getting to know me. You all mean so much to me.

Quinn <3

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @sillyslipperybananapeel @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps @quartztwst @yuizenihaswriten @devosin

@yourlocalyin @sillyfull-jua

@ramshacklerumble @quartztwst

[mariemarion]

it me again :p

hi, how are you ?

not me posting under the keep reading line everytime i feel down xD

If I don't express a little of what I have inside I might explode, right? hehe.

Artistically talking, I'm still the same as last year, im very demotivated... My artstyle is tiring me, I've been noticing it for a while, the more details I put in, the more strange it looks to me, I cant find a way to do simplified works anymore, im obsessed with achiving "perfection", perfect lines, perfect shading, perfect shapes, perfect blending etc, but instead im overdoing everything, and my art looks like a big mess, that's how it is to my eyes and my low self-esteem might be doing its havoc by making it all look a lot worse.

As I have said, art is not a hobbie anymore, it's my income, the way I bring help to home. I'm traumatized from my former job, I was exploited with pretty promises and a miserable pay (that at the time I thought it was fair, cause I'm a conformist), the toxic environtment damaged my mental health and the work itself exhasuted my body to the point to having the worst Burn-out I have ever gone through, I'm affraid of working with real people again, to be abused again with smiles, cause I'm quite, I'm shy and I will hardly say "No" if they talk nice to me. That's why it's hard for me to even thinking of finding a job outside.

It seems unfair to complain about my current situation, because in comparison with said job, I'm doing pretty well (monetarily), I have recurring clients, I can help out at home with expenses, I can give my pets a good life. It's just the stress of feeling like it's still not enough that weighs me down, the stress of not being able to take a break, because that would mean that the income would stop as well. I think that every job has its difficulties, and being a freelancer it stick to this.

Anyway, I can still find distraction and content in other activities like baking, reading manga or watching some series and movies, but I don't find joy in joining fandoms, in drawing for fandoms, I feel very isolated and at the same time I don't feel like sharing anything. I'm this emoji 🧍x'D, ​I feel like I'm just there.

Things I want to do to don't feel stuck with my art: *Take some online courses about composition, theory of color, anatomy and perspective, these are subjects I have never really studied, it's never too late. *Resume drawing traditional, hold a pen and eraser again, fill those sketchbooks x'D.*Go outside more!

that all, thank you for reading ;)

[steddieunderdogfics]

This week’s writer spotlight feature is:  @stevestark ! With fourteen Stranger Things fics and twelve in the Steve/Eddie tag, their charming works make waves in the fandom!

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by @stevestark:

they told me all of my cages were mental (so I got wasted like all my potential)

i think your house is haunted (your dad is always mad)

i was hitting my marks ('cause i can do it with a broken heart)

Eddie and Robin's Very Real Heterosexual Adventure

it’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound (it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you)

Whether their fics are under 5k or over 10k, their world-building is so good! they have a way of making our boys feel so natural and the progression of the relationship always feels realistic. they were one of my favorites back in 2022 when s4 dropped, and they've made a sudden return to the fandom this year with new stories that are just as good if not better than what they had written back then! I'm always so excited to see they've posted something new, no matter if it's a new chapter or a whole new story. -- anonymous

Below the cut,  @stevestark answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

After watching ST4 Vol. 1 I was obsessed. Steve Harrington was one of literally two characters I loved from the very first time I “met” them (the other being Jim Hopper, which is why he tends to feature heavily in my works as the resident Dad) but I had never really been into any ships for him up to that point. The immediate chemistry he had with Eddie Munson though? Woof. I knew I had to write them, and it honestly was like I blinked and had suddenly churned out multiple fics. I stopped writing in general around the end of 2022, but when I got fired from my job in April, I got bored and reread my own works, which drew me right back in, especially because I had already written about 10,000 words of they told me all of my cages were mental (so I got wasted like all my potential) but had yet to finish it. I wanted to read the ending so badly myself that I simply picked it back up, and then next thing I knew I was writing more and more.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

There’s so many. I’m always a sucker for some good old fashioned Hurt/Comfort or Angst With a Happy Ending, but I think my all time favorite has to be Enemies to Friends to Lovers.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Definitely Angst With a Happy Ending. I don’t think I really know how to write anything that’s just straight fluff or even straight smut. There has to be some angst in there, and I’m not really one for an unhappy ending. I’ll maybe do ambiguous, but I was raised on Nora Ephron and Nancy Meyers ⸺ we’re happy ending girlies.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

The One In Which A Time Loop Is Fucking Exhasuting. by badpancake on AO3. I think about that shit daily. Every part of it is absolute perfection, and I'm in love with it.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Fittingly with the last question, time travel! I have a title for a time travel fix-it already, I just need to let it ferment a little in my mind so I can figure out how to do it in a way that feels at least somewhat unique.

What is your writing process like?

Step 1: Put Taylor Swift’s folklore on repeat. Step 2: Open GDoc. Step 3: Stare at GDoc. Step 4: Start writing the first thing that pops into my head and hope it comes out coherent in the end. Step 5: Publish and then immediately reread my work after it’s already live, and pray I only find minor mistakes that I can quickly fix before anyone else reads the fic and spots them.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I always have the title before I even know what the fic will be! 99% of my fic titles are Taylor Swift lyrics, and it’s usually a process of me hearing a specific phrase and thinking “This is so Steddie coded.” After that, I begin the above process, and hope I do the lyrics justice, because I tend to choose the ones that are the most poetic to me personally.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Definitely when I finish writing. I’ve tried holding myself to a schedule before with multichaptered fic in other fandoms, and it just never works out the way I want it to. I actually have an ongoing Steddie WIP that I haven’t touched since April, because I’m waiting for the next chapter to come to me fully before I start writing it, and I do kind of regret posting it as a WIP in the first place. I feel much more accomplished when I can just push the whole work out at once, i.e. my season 2 rewrite where Eleven is found and taken in by Eddie and Wayne, which I had debated posting as a multichaptered fic as I wrote chunks of it at a time. I talked myself out of it though, and despite the fact that it took me weeks to finish, once I got there it was so satisfying to hit that publish button.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Definitely i was hitting my marks ('cause i can do it with a broken heart). There’s a whole entire 58 track playlist to go along with it that I carefully researched and curated before writing even a single word of the story, broken down into specifically themed mixtapes in a GDoc; it's linked at the end of the fic, with a breakdown of which mixtape each set of songs belongs to, and it is my absolute pride and joy.

How did you get the idea for they told me all of my cages were mental (so I got wasted like all my potential)?

I had a passing thought one day about the fact that Steve seemed to just tangentially know who Eddie was by the time we met him in canon, and wondered what it would be like if he had actually sort of known him, and what that would look like. Then I thought about the legend of King Steve, and the fact that he probably did know Eddie, if only as a dealer, and the whole thing sort of wrote itself after that.

When writing they told me all of my cages were mental (so I got wasted like all my potential), what was something you didn’t expect?

Definitely how long it ended up being! The plot was truly just a passing thought, and I honestly believed I would write little vignettes of the two of them getting to know each other at parties over the years, but what actually transpired was some deep character work and a true slow-build to anything substantial between Steve and Eddie.

What inspired i think your house is haunted (your dad is always mad)?

Honestly the title itself! Sometimes, when I pick a Taylor Swift lyric and decide it would be a pretty fic title, that’s where the inspiration ends. With this one, I thought about the fanon (and somewhat canon) belief that Steve’s parents are assholes who don’t really love their son, and even though I’ve known the lyrics to folklore backwards and forwards since the album dropped in 2020, for some reason that line hit extra hard in April of this year, and all I could think about was how badly Steve Harrington wants to be loved and wanted, and I just started writing and didn’t stop until I was satisfied.

What was your favorite part to write from Eddie and Robin's Very Real Heterosexual Adventure?

The entire thing. I’m not just saying that, either. Sometimes, such a good idea falls into my lap that I actually do a proper outline, and with this one, I fully had little sketches going on and everything. I meticulously planned every date they would go on, and I knew exactly how it would end. Though, if I had to isolate any single part that was the most fun to write, it would be the last few lines. Just pure chaos. It makes me laugh every time.

How do/did you feel writing i was hitting my marks ('cause i can do it with a broken heart)?

That was one of my favorites to write, and it flowed out so easily; I had just finished rewatching all of ST, start to finish, for the first time since right before ST4 Vol. 1 dropped. And the only thing I could think about after finishing was that even though it made sense for Max to be cursed, it would have made infinitely more sense for it to be Steve. All we ever see in canon of Steve Harrington is his insecurity and feeling that he’s never enough for anyone; season 1, he thinks Nancy is cheating on him with Jonathan, and they try to keep him out of the Upside Down stuff. Season 2, Nancy actually leaves him for Jonathan, and tells him that he ⸺ and his love, and loving him ⸺ is bullshit. Season 3 is literally the story of how King Steve became a nobody who never wins a fight and falls in love with people who will never love him back. Even season 4 ⸺ when Dustin comes rushing into Family Video to try to track down Eddie somehow? Steve’s immediate reaction is “Oh, your new best friend Eddie who you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game.” He’s never not a mess of insecurity and self-loathing, and nobody around him ever really does anything to rectify that feeling for him, so he’d be perfect Vecna bait. And the whole thing started with the playlist, really, because I had this idea that Steve is a vibes guy for music, rather than a style or genre guy, and then it was just a matter of writing around the mixtapes I’d mapped out. Which, naturally, led to breaking my own goddamn heart writing what I think it feels like inside his head, because I was  ⸺ and still very much am ⸺ that person in the friend group. Never the first pick, always an afterthought, the one people always think is fine but never bother to actually check if they are. So, I guess, it felt cathartic to get it all out somehow, but it was also just so deeply sad, because that feeling never really goes away completely, and I hated doing that to Steve.

What was the most difficult part of writing it’s hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound (it’s hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you)?

Probably just the physical aspect of shotgunning, honestly, and also trying to accurately describe the high. Weed doesn’t do anything for me mentally, and I don’t like what it does for me physically ⸺ to the point that I actually wonder if I have a mild allergy to it ⸺ so it’s not really something I can pull from personal experience in regards to describing it, which made it more difficult than I was prepared for.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

Definitely the opening bit of there’s something about you in the moonlight (but your eyes go so well with the day). Both the Eddie intro and the Steve intro. It was just so fun to tap into that feeling of being a kid and getting hit with the lightning bolt of why people have crushes, but I especially have a lot of love and fondness for the way I described Steve’s desire to find his perfect match, and how it’s not rooted in sex like people thought of King Steve, but in his desire to find someone he’d have fun with forever.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m currently working on a multichaptered fic where Eddie lives, but leaves Hawkins the very night he’s released from the hospital without telling anyone; he does stay in contact though, and he and Steve end up falling in love through letters and phone calls, until, eventually, Eddie realizes that he ran away from the one thing that made him feel the most alive. At last edit, which was yesterday, it’s at 15 chapters and 18,000 words, and I’ve only just gotten to the point where Eddie and Steve are playing phone-tag. Also, if anyone is interested in a non-Steddie but still relatively Eddie-centric fic, I rewrote the entire season 2 canon in are we out of the woods? (are we in the clear yet?) and I am currently working on a season 3 rewrite, which will be followed by a season 4 rewrite, wherein Steddie will become canon. It’s definitely for the long-haulers, but I think it’ll be worth it. Actually, despite being non-shippy so far, it’s probably my favorite thing I’ve ever written. There’s just something about Wayne Munson as the world’s best dad that does it for me, and, as we’ve seen in canon, Eddie is surprisingly really good with kids. I like to think that he’d have been an excellent brother, and I got to explore that with him and Wayne deciding Eleven was theirs.

Thank you to our author, @stevestark, and our nominator! See more of @stevestark works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

[autisticlee]

no one knows just how hard I work at things. how I have to work 1000000x more than the average person to compensate for being autistic and adhd and probably other things i'm working out with therapist, and having a sort of physical disability i've not received any help or treatment for. everyone assumes I don't try or give up too soon. they think I just started, need more practice. they think I expect everything handed to me immediately with no work or effort and don't acknowledge the multiple years i've put into things. they think I have no right to be upset about still failing to get where I want even after working my entire life to get there, while watching people around me surpass even my meager goals within a fraction of the time and work i've out into the same thing. constantly getting surpassed by everyone around me who seem to barely do any work to get there compared to me. it's all handed to them and falls into their lap so easily. all because they don't have the extra obstacles to overcome and work around that I do. while they go from point A to Z immediately with no major stops in between, I have to go through every single letter and then some, often getting sent back to the start. but it's always *my* fault, according to everyone. it's not the fault of those around me who ignore me, don't support me, don't help me, don't believe in me, etc. it's my fault they don't do those things. because doing the work of 10 people in one isn't enough, just because it's me. and not reaching Z as fast as everyone else means I don't deserve any of the support or help or anything else and means i'm not trying hard enough. it doesn't matter that I *need* to work harder than 100 "normal" people combined to get even half the result! Just because I can't reach what they do means i'm not trying hard enough! ugh.

[timidxtempted]

Your night had been long and unnecessarily stressful. Frustrating. Exhasuting. The tone in your voice gave that away immediately, but you hadn't wanted to talk about it. So I talked about my little frivolous, silly, dumb minutia. Hoping to take your mind off the heaviness of your own thoughts, the weight on your shoulders; hoping to feel your tension ease, even just a little.

I made sure the bed was in order and that there was a cold glass of fresh water on the bedside table. Fluffed up your pillow. Turned back the covers. Made things comfortable for you. Tried to anticipate your needs and ensure that they were handled for you.

You'd already handled enough.

It was your turn to be taken care of.

When you entered our bedroom, I moved toward you. Silently, I helped you strip your clothing off, caressing my hands over you lightly. When you sat on the edge of the bed, I moved close, into the circle of your arms.

Running my fingers over your head, nails scratching lightly on your scalp, smiling at your little happy sounds. Your breathing slow and smooth as my hands move down, massaging the tension from your neck and shoulders. You rest your forehead against me. My hands move over your tired muscles, working to ease the tightness there at least as much as my babbling had eased your mind.

Leaning in to lay soft kisses on your head, I move away from you enough to run my hands down your chest, pushing you in the direction of your pillows.

You don't argue, accepting my "suggestion" without comment - maybe just a hint of a smirk - and laying down fully on the bed. Letting out a long sigh as you sink into the softness.

I come close, kiss you on the cheek. The other cheek. Then softly draw my finger over your lips before kissing you there as well. Sweetly. Adoringly. As I move to leave you to your rest, you reach out to take me by the wrist, holding me in place.

I look to you. Without opening your eyes, you murmur a single word.

Stay.

I smile, and move to the bed. I crawl up beside you, kissing you lightly again. Whisper soft, your deep sigh almost enhances the quiet of the room.

I kiss my way down your neck, feather light. Down your chest. Over your core. With every little touch of my lips I hear your breathing deepen. I can feel the relaxation settle into you as my lips move lower still.

The soft silk of my lips reach your cock, and I take you into the warm heat of my mouth. You exhale the last of the night from you as I begin to suckle. Not with urgency. There is no expectation of swallowing your cum in this act. There is only you, and my need to make you feel good. To take care of you. To make you feel as precious as you are.

I circle the head of your cock with my tongue, holding you there, my lips locked around the ridge just under the head. Gentle sucking as I lick circles on your sensitive tip.

Drawing your cock deeper into my mouth, I press your length against the roof of my mouth as I run my tongue along your shaft; moving my head slightly to ensure that I lavish attention on every inch of you. My tongue tracing veins, whimpery sighs vibrating into you as I feel the slick drool build and start to leak from my mouth.

I move to lick the wet drips from your balls, trying to catch them all, swallowing my drool, now tasting deliciously of you. Licking up as much of my mess as I can, I kiss my way along your length and take you into my mouth again.

I suckle. Cockwarming you sweetly, tenderly. My motions slow and intentional; only needing to nurture, to relax. To renew you.

To attempt to take care of you as well as you take care of me. To be your refuge. Your safe place, as you are mine.

I continue my ministrations. Suckling, licking. Kissing, nuzzling. Cockwarming you with no goal but to hear the steadiness of your breathing and feel the melting away of the last stresses of your day.

I don't know how long we stay like that, in the hazy warmth of our shared haven.

All I know is the feel of you in my mouth, the sound of the little slurps in the quiet room, the music of your soft groans.

All I feel is the deep contentment at being able to take care of you, to tend to your needs. The sting of tiny tears of happy. The overhwhelming joy at being needed by you.

All I need is right here.

In this moment.

With you.

Sweet dreams.

[jackhkeynes]

monnocquar "trudge"

monnocquar /ˌmɔ.nɔˈkwar/ [ˌmɔ.nʊˈkwɐː]

trudge, lumber, plod, traipse, to walk heavily or with some difficulty;

struggle, persevere, to work on a task while finding it difficult

Etymology: first attested in the 18th century; further origin obscure. Attempts to connect the word "monk"—perhaps moigne or monhe from regional French and Portingale dialects respectively—stumble on phonetic grounds (and the proposed semantic connection of a monk's plodding gait is tenuous).

More tempting might be Arabic مَنْهُوك • (manhūk) "exhasuted, spent", although no account of the word's journey to Borlish has been corrobated. Claims of a Novomundine origin also lack convincing evidence. Perhaps simply an onomatopoeic or fanciful coinage.

Nos eyau monnocquar tras seg acr por ac yembr. /nɔz iˈjo ˌmɔ.nɔˈkwar traz sij akr̩ pɔr ak jɛmbr̩/ [ˌnɔzˈjo ˌmɔ.nʊˈkwɐː tʀaz sɪj ˈa.kɐ pɔː‿ʀak ˈʝɛm.bɐ] 1p go-ipf.1p trudge-inf through six field for here arrive-inf We had to trudge through six fields to get here.

[echo-goes-mmm]

Man I can't wait until we see Iris lose her composure

Not like in an angry way, but you know how behind closed doors she mostly relaxes in a collapse-from-exhasution way?

She needs to lose her composure in a giggle-y im-finally-having-a-good-time way

And like I feel this definitely is going to extend to the eventual sex that she and kit have.

Iris is definitely the unsure and nervous one in this regard, and I can't wait to see Kit reassure her and help her feel good

Bc like as a fae, sex is much less of a Big Deal compared to the stuffy repression that Iris 100% suffers from

It would take Kit a while to understand Iris's apprehension about sex, but he'd help her feel comfortable right away. I think that's a wonderful dynamic

AND as a fae who enjoys both quiet time and having fun (y'know.. before everything went to shit), Kit's a great foil to Iris.

Iris is all about expectations, responsibilities, and appearances. It's why she wears makeup when she doesn't care for it, it's why she meets up with people she really can't stand

Kit doesn't care about those things. He doesn't get why Iris does stuff that makes her unhappy and uncomfortable. It just doesn't make sense.

Unfortunately for him, he also hates being embarrassed in front of a crowd. His fae attitude towards life didn't matter when he lived in the fae realm, but it does matter now that he's in the castle.

And I love that Iris will help him navigate avoiding humiliating himself at court, while Kit will help her learn to do things for herself

It's really a great example of "we make each other better" and I can't wait to really develop that relationship

[cloggedarteri]

♡me thinking about the jack time travel-fix it story

i imagine jack having a really hard time trying to figure out what to say to his father

even before he'd died, jack has a lot of time to think about him. he rememebrs it all. all the chaos he'd thrown their family into, all the silent tears he'd watched his mother shed, all the hours he'd sat idly by her bedside as she witehred away...he was the root of it all, that man

but he tried, in the end. he did. it wasnt enogh to save them but his father tried all the same.

and akncowlding that complication seemed to relit a flame of resentment that he'd thought smothered since ross' execution, a deep, unending hatred that burned his entire being from within.

so as he follows the trail of choas left in the gangs path up into the moutains jack thinks

even if he finds john, what is he going to say? that he's from the future? that he should take his head out of his ass and take his family away from this life sooner rather than later? that he'll only hurt himself if he waits for others to change...that in a different time revenge was the beginning of the end for their family? that in a different time he'd left behind a legacy of death and destruction that his son will cling to as his birthright? that in a different time his death was the death of them all?

what can he say?

from a distance he can see the dim shimmering of lantern flame overhead the abandoned shacks of colter

but jack doesnt intend to meet the gang just yet

he needs to find his father first

so he climbs even furtehr up the moutain, doesnt think to rest and contnue his jounrey in the morning, no he keeps pushign forward

and he finds him. jack stands over the exhasuted and quivering form of his father, his face stained with the blood of his flayed flesh...and he's so young...and so pathetically sad

and without a word, jack offers his hand to john

and he takes it

[tranquill-llama]

First Post!

Hello, I'm Llama! I've never really been able to figure out how to use tumblr but I decided to finally embrace the fact that I am a weird fandom kid and join the dark side. I've been in fandom for a very long time but I've mostly been a lurker, or I just hyperfixated on it by myself lol.

As a result I have quite a few fandoms that I'm into, though I hyperfixate on some more than others. I also love shipping rare pairs, unfortunately (TAT) I'm a multishipper. There's hardly a ship (except for illegal stuff) that I won't ship. Currently I'm absolutely obsessed with Stardew Valley! and I am absolutely a Harvey girlie (it's the moustache) but I like to explore other ships/ characters in that fandom as well.

I mostly write (I cannot draw for the life of me) and I have an ao3 where I post my fics. Generally I write fluff and gen works with a focus on OCs.

Other than that, in my free time I like to go exploring around my local trails and attempt to make cute crafts I find on pintrest. I'm mostly planning on using this blog to share things about my OC's and other random thoughts I have.

°˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧ .✧˖° °˖✧.°

Here's the exhasutive fandom list, from most active to least:

Stardew Valley

Genshin Impact (I haven't played since 4.8 so no spoilers please!)

Honkai Star Rail (I haven't played this since like 2.2, can you tell I burned out of gacha games lol?)

Haikyuu!

Laid Back Camp

Harry Potter

Merlin

Marvel (I kinda dropped out of this around Endgame)

Star Trek (Mostly TOS and the reboot movies, but I've seen TNG)

[miasma-museum]

(hi, i came to traumatize Miasma with Alt Gabe :D)

As Miasma laid in bed, or sat at his desk (idfk vro), he couldnt help but feel a presence lurking in the room, from the shadows or closet? he couldnt tell. it was like many eyes were on him, making his skin rise and prickle at the feeling.

turning around, he saw nothing, blank shadows with the lamp casting a faint glow across the room, not lighting up many shadows unfortunately. his tail bristled as he felt more eyes but he shrugged it away (cause hes fucking insane) and turned back around.

then he heard fainting clicking.. or tapping.. like a claw on a wall.. or multiple.. it sounded fast but only one finger..

turning back around, now pissed off, he froze as he saw two glowing white eyes staring at him with a glowing white sharp toothed smile.

the figure leaned down a bit and chuckled with its hands clasped together in a prayer like position, its wings twitching and jerking behind it.

"..hello.. arent you just lovely..?"

{@ask-the-alternate-angel (hi)

Miasma laid on the carpeted floor of Jim's living room, alone. The house was enveloped in the quiet stillness of late night, the creaks and groans of the structure the only sounds besides his own soft whispering. Father Jim had retreated to his bedroom hours ago, leaving Miasma to his solitary ritual of prayer and healing. He always wondered if Jim did the same.

Eyes closed as if attempting to block out the physical world and focus solely on the internal, Miasma channeled quintessence through his veins. It flowed through him in a steady and even fashion, attempting to pull together the torn tissues from the stab wounds he had taken that same day. Each surge of quintessence was accompanied by a hushed, almost inaudible prayer. The words, a personal invocation, were a fragile thread attempting to reconnect him to a higher power, a desperate plea for healing and resilience as well as forgiveness that he had seemed to lose.

"Oh, source of mercy, oh, forgiver of transgressions," he whispered, his voice slightly frail with pain and exhasution, "I come before You... wounded in body and burdened in spirit. I confess my failings... The shadows that cling to my past... The choices that have led me to this. I seek not only the mending of this physical wound, but the cleansing of my soul. Grant me the... The strength to... repent..."

A subtle, rhythmic tapping gradually penetrated Miasma's focus. His eyelids, heavy with sleepiness, fluttered open, his pupils dilating in the dark. His quiet prayer ceased, the words dissolving into the stillness of the room. With furrowed eyebrows, he attempted to pinpoint the origin of the insistent sound. Slowly, laboriously, he pushed himself into a sitting position, the movement sending a protesting twinge through his wounded side. His gaze swept across the dimly lit living room, searching for any signs of life. The worn furniture, the bookshelves lining the walls, the faint moonlight filtering through the windowpanes – all remained stubbornly silent and still. He rotated his head, his ears straining to capture the faintest echo of the tapping, but the sound seemed to have vanished. He remained motionless for a moment longer, his senses on high alert, before a quiet sigh escaped his lips. Maybe it was nothing more than the tricks his imagination played in the quieter hours.

Torn from his thoughts, he attempted to get back into his prayer, remaining in his sitting up position and staring at the wall as he tried to remember where he left off.

"...Grant me the strength to repent... To... To turn away from... the darkness that has touched me. Forgive the wrongs I have committed, both those seen and unseen, and... Grant me the grace to forgive those who have wronged me. Let this pain, this suffering, be that of change, a burning away of the impurities that reside..."

He heard it again. He expelled a heavy sigh, a mixture of frustration and weariness, the sound amplified by the quiet of the room. He turned once more, his eyes scanning the space behind him. He fully expected to find nothing, to confirm his suspicion that the sound was a mere phantom. But the sight that greeted him sent a jolt of adrenaline through his system that nearly stopped his heart from beating. Before him, bathed in the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the window, stood a figure that defied easy categorization. An angel. At least, looked like one.

The figure possessed a a subtle radiance that seemed to emanate from within, casting a soft, otherworldly light around its face. Its form was graceful, yet there was an undeniable strength in its posture. And... It's face. It looked... Unpleasant, to say the least. But who was Miasma to judge? This divine entity had come to him in his moment of prayer. Someone was finally listening again.

"Did... Did you..." Miasma stammered, fully turning his body around to face him.

"Did you hear my prayer...?" He asked, sounding filled with hope.

~ EEEEEE THIS IS SO, COOL . Sorry for the uber yapping omg

@ask-miasma-ghoul