#but shouldn't we be more concerned about the mushrooms???

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Foraging has become a REALLY hot topic over the past few years. We even saw a surge of interest at the start of the pandemic fueled both by the shutdown, and by concerns about food security due to grocery shortages. My foraging classes are consistently the most popular ones I offer, and the Facebook groups I'm on are absolutely teeming with new people interested in getting started.

But as with any extractive activity, foraging has its downsides. The more people out in the woods and fields looking for edible mushrooms (and plants), the more strain that puts on local ecosystems. In my classes I advocate for only taking 25% of a given species in an area (unless you find, like, three chanterelles, in which case just pick the three chanterelles.) A lot of people have less restraint, and of course you have commercial mushroom hunters who will clean out every single marketable mushroom they find, leaving nothing for anyone else.

This is a topic that I don't feel gets enough attention in the foraging world, but we desperately need to be talking about it more. Most of us who forage do not rely on it as a primary form of food security, and have other reasonable options for acquiring food. Yes, it can be fun to go out looking for mushrooms and berries and such when we're out hiking and camping, and I am a big fan of what I call "incidental foraging"--picking things you find while you're doing something else. It's good to know how to identify edible and it's a nice treat when I run across something. But unless my situation changes to where my food security is seriously threatened, I do not personally feel the need to be one of those foragers where 90% of what they eat is something they foraged, especially when I am financially secure enough to be able to go to the grocery store whenever I want. I think most foragers these days are in a similar situation, though there are always going to be people for whom foraging is a necessary and vital part of food security.

So yes, I am strongly in favor of bag limits for non-indigenous people, hardship permits for those in financial need (and don't make the application process too much of a hurdle), and curbs on widespread commercial mushroom harvest. It's not just to save something for other people, but to reduce wear and tear on the land. Those mushrooms need to be spreading spores for the next generation, and I worry that overharvesting is going to have deleterious effects both on the mushroom species being harvested, and the health of the ecosystems they are a part of.

[obsidiancreates]

From Regular Wednesday To Regular Whimsday

(I still haven't watched past 41 in OUAW, I keep just restarting it, so for the OUAW gang this is just some unspecified time in the swamps of Hither.)

It starts with Witchlight, of course. A patch of mushrooms, a mysterious artifact that could reportedly "open doors to new worlds of possibilities", and the whims of a 20 year old with ADHD and the ability to write whatever the fuck xey want.

And so the artifact shatters in the patch of Witchlight, and Carnival LeCroux find themselves faced with six deeply confused, highly concerned, and bafflingly identical humans.

"Well this is diffrrrent," Torbek says, scratching his head. "Isn't it usually uuus who Witchlight messeees withhh?"

"Must've been that orb thing!" Kremy searches the mud below them by poking his cane around in it.

"Roman, what is this?" The human in the dark shirt and blue-striped tie asks the one in the white-and-red royal-like getup.

"Don't look at me." Roman points at a human with a similar but more elaborate outfit of green and black. "Whatever this horrid imagining is, it must be Remus!"

"Oh, thank you, brother, it is horrible here! But, I didn't do it! Maybe good ol' Daddo did? He's been a frog before, frogs, swamps-"

"Please, Patton would never bring us somewhere this gr-oss!"

"And I really only looked like that because we were talkin' about Frogger." The human in the lighter blue shirt with the gray covering tied around his neck says, wincing a little and adjusting his glasses. "Virgil? Do you know where we are, kiddo?"

"No." The human in the patchwork purple and black hoodie is tense, ready for either fight or flight (probably flight, based on his general vibe). He looks around, eyeing Carnival Lecroux. "And those guys seem way too active to be any imaginary constructs. ... I told you guys we shouldn't have let Janus convince Thomas to have another glass of wine tonight! We're probably in some... weird nightmare because of it!"

"Oh, blaming me, what a surprise." The final human- well, maybe not. While most of him looks human, half of his face is covered with scales. His cheek has a natural slit implying an ability to unhinge his jaw quite wide but only on that side (so he probably can't actually, because his other cheek would be completely screwed if he tried), and his eye is bright yellow with a slitted pupil.

"Slit pupil means he's venomous," Frost warns his friends. "Right, Gricko?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah. I've never seen a snake-folk before, though, actually."

"He's barely a reptile-folk at all!" Kremy points at the kind of-human. "Either fuckin' commit or don't!"

"Oh, okay, gettin' some strong language here! Let's uh, elt's tone that down, how about, huh?" Patton looks at Remus. "Kinda leaning towards this being you, now."

"What, like I'm the only one who swears between us?! Ro-bro here-" Remus slings an arm around his brother, who quickly shoves it off. "-is the one who came up with Bitchmas!"

"I was in a heated debate! I'm just very passionate!"

"You're a potty-mouth! Even more than me!"

"I have to disagree, Remus. Your deodorant alone is all the evidence I need to contradict you."

"Mmm, but does contradicting me really matter if no-one cares to pay attention, Logan?"

"Oooooh, they've got drama." Twig climbs down from Gideon's shoulders. "This is just like those trashy major images!"

"We are not trashy!" Roman looks at his brother. "Well, most of us are not trashy. And we are not from some... major image!"

"Roman, I don't know that you need to justify us to the imaginary child."

"I'm not a child! I'm a Twig!"

"As in your name?"

"Yeah!"

"Then those are not mutually exclusive concepts."

"Alright, alright, enough of all this!" Kremy points at Logan with his cane. "Y'all explain yourselves right now so we can get a fuckin' move on!"

"Boy, lotta f-bombs being thrown around by this guy." Patton plays with the sleeves of the hoodie around his neck.

"Why would I explain? The only possibility is this is happening within Thomas's mind, so I see no reason to-"

"OH, GREAT FLYNN RIDER'S SMOLDER! Logan, there is another possibility! A whimsical, fantastical, impossible possibility!"

"That... is already a contradiction within itself."

"We... have been TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER WORLD!" Roman strikes a pose, one arm aloft in the air and the other held close t his chest as he gazes up into the sky.

"That is absolutely impossible."

"Uh... I dunno." Virgil looks down at the mud and swamp ooze clinging to his boots and pants. "I do feel... weirdly solid, right now."

"Yes! Some kind of incredible magic has taken us OUT OF THE REALM OF PRETEND and into a true fairytale!" Roman's eyes positively sparkle.

"First of all, magic does not exist."

The entire Carnival Crew look at each other. These people are either completely insane, or from what sounds like the worst world ever. No magic is like no stones for building, no wood for burning, no air for breathing.

Logan continues. "Second of all, if we have been somehow transported, beyond all possibility and the very logic that makes up my being, where is Thomas?"

Gideon puffs on his cigar. "Quit talkin' between yerselves! Just answer Kremy's fuckin' question, man!"

"The... alligator-man did not ask a question. He told us to explain ourselves."

"Oh-ho my gods! He's worse than Frost!"

Frost doesn't show if he's offended or not. He simply goes, "Mmm."

"I don't care what you say, Logan-"

"Not new information to me."

"-I am going to treat this as a grand magical adventure! Clearly we have been taken away to a world of magic and monstrosities to fulfill some grand quest, and these uh... strange creatures, are the proverbial tutorial for our journey!"

Gideon leans down to Kremy's ear. "Can I punch 'im?"

"Not yet, Gid. But probably later."

"Mmph, fine."

Roman points at the other party. "My good sirs! We are the Sanders Sides, a group of uh- what's the word you use, Logan?"

"Fine, I shall play along until a reasoning more aligned with myself is presented by someone who will actually be listened to. The word I use is Metaphysical, it simply means not actually physical beings."

"Yes! Metaphysical adventurers from another world!"

Frost leans in, intrigued. "What exactly do you mean, you aren't actually physical beings?"

Logan speaks before Roman can give his own explanation- likely for the best, as the words 'Well, nerd,' were clearly to be Roman's next input to the conversation. Logan, instead, matches the energy of Frost with his clear explanation.

"Well, to put it simply we are personifications of various aspects of Thomas's personality and mental processes. Our main function, and reason for existence, is often to externalize an issue that would normally be resolved through an internal examination and investigation."

"Wow, that's uh- that's really quite interesting. And yet you all take on these uh, these-these roles, and personalities, beyond your intended representations?"

"Yes, and the... severity, of these individualizations has increased drastically over the years."

"So you've had a-a growth cycle! You've developed your minds to contain intricacies and um, and greater depth of character, literally."

"Well- yes, I suppose that is not an inaccurate way of stating it, but again we are not individuals. We are not actually capable of fulfilling many of the requirements considered for actual-"

"OH MY GOSHHHHH!" As Patton cuts Logan off with a joyous scream, Logan's huff of indignation goes unnoticed by all but the fascinated Frost. Instead, all attention turns to the creature who has stepped out of the bushes. Giant round eyes, soft and fluffy fur-feathers, a little beat that the leg of a frog is quickly swallowed into.

"I'm going to cry," Patton breathes, hands clasped up by his mouth.

Logan clears his throat and adjusts his glasses. "It is a very adorable creature. And apparently docile, which I assume means it's with these people."

"OH, of course she is!" Gricko throws himself at the adorable owlbear, clinging to her neck with a hug as she muzzles her face into his. "This is my daughter Hootsie, Hootsie T. Cutesie-Grimgrin!"

"Don't you mean pet?"

Gricko looks at Logan with horror. "No! She's my daughter, and a very bright little girl, oooooh Hootsie, he didn't mean it, they must not have adoption in whatever world he's from."

"What? Of course we understand the concept of adoption, but-"

"Well y'all said you ain't got magic where you're from, so it ain't too unreasonable to assume you're lackin' a buncha other stuff as well!" Kremy gestures at Logan with the ground-end of his cane, flinging swamp muck onto the human's shirt.

Logan sets his jaw and looks Kremy in the eyes while flicking the muck off. "Our world lacking in nonsensical magic does not mean it lacks basic concepts such as adoption. I was proposing a correction because, while it is clear anthropomorphic animal-human hybrids are a normalcy here, that... is just a bear with an owl face."

"Hey! You keep shit-talkin' our niece, I'm gonna punch you right in the body!"

"I am not-"

"AWWWWW, you guys think of each other as family?"

Kremy taps the eyehole if his skull cane topper. "Well, I dunno if-"

"Hell yeah we're a family!" Gideon grabs Hootsie, and by extension Gricko, and holds them both in a hug. "Been travellin' together so fuckin' long an' know so much about each other, what else could we be?"

"I mean we could be a group or uh-"

"Ooooooh, but Mr. Kremyyyyyy, Torbek thinks of you all as faaamily."

The screams of the entire collective, Sides and Carnival alike, could deafen someone unused to either party. Twig and Roman especially.

"Oh-ho, geez, man! We forgot you were here!" Gideon thumps Torbek on the back. "You gotta stop doin' that!"

"He does that a lot?!" Vigril, adrenaline leaving him, drops out of his pose to bolt and sinks deep into his hoodie. The words come out more like spittle, forcing their way through gritted teeth.

"Ooooh, Torbek doesn't mean to. People just forget Torbek exists."

"That's not a terrifying notion at all." Janus keeps his cane hoisted up and arm cocked for a swing, just in case. "There's nothing alarming about a seven foot tall glowing monster who can completely vanish from notice without even trying."

"I knew he was still here!" Remus twirls his morningstar and walks over to Torbek, burying his face in Torbek's closest patch of fur and taking a deep sniff. "You reek! It is delightful!"

"Oooooh- huh? Wait, reeeeally? You find Torbek deliiightfuuul?"

"Oh, abso-lutely! What is that smell, I have never whiffed it before! Is it your deodorant? What flavor is it called?!"

"Uuuuuuh, what's deodorannnt?"

Remus blinks up at Torbek with a grin absolutely carved into his face. "You're going to be my new best friend. Sorry Janus!"

"I don't care at all." Janus examines his "fingernails", despite the presence of his gloves. "The title means nothing to me."

"You love me!" Remus begins to literally climb Torbek. "Now let me see these glowing drug implants! This place is a wealth of new ideas!"

"Please do not encourage my brother," Roman says with a look of disgust.

"We ain't, I think he's just encouragin' himself. And trust us, we've tried makin' Torbek a little more presentable."

"Yeah! When he was all tiny in my inn, he got a nice bath and makeover! But it got ruined as soon as he fell out." Twig holds up her tiny satchel-sized inn for Roman to see.

"Your- oh, look at that! Now that is the kind of whimsy and fantastical magic I was looking for!"

"Speaking of looking, let's look for a way home." Virgil is no longer quite so pressed into his hoodie, but the hood is still up over his head. "What is Thomas going through right now? You guys said when I ducked out, things got bad. Now we're all gone!"

"Oh, sweet Tatiana's beignets, he's right! Thomas could be in serious peril!"

"That's assuming our roles as facets of his personality still apply to us at this moment. Given that we have physical forms-"

Remus's head snaps around and he shouts, "You're all aware of your own breathing!"

Everyone splutters and gasps and makes general noises of upset as suddenly Breathing becomes a conscious effort.

"And we've all got heartbeats!" Remus giggles and claps his hands as even more displeasure rings out, and he simply turns back to trying to part Torbek's fur around the implants and see the scars. Torbek shifts uncomfortably, but his ear twitches and his eyes glaze with a bit of relief- Remus is unintentionally helping scratch a few itches and clean some gunk from Torbek's fur.

Virgil has his hand over his heart. "Is mine supposed to be racing this much?"

"Well, everyone has a different resting heart rate, Virgil. Allow me to- oh my goodness. Ahem. No, that is likely because your, well, you, has spiked with Remus's comments."

"Hhhnnnnggg..."

"Okay, Virgil, now would be the time to utilize those breathing exercises you've taught Thomas."

"Little easier to say than do, Logan!"

"Well, simply try."

"Yes, and if the racing nature of your heart causes you other health problems, Gricko may be able to help." Frost gestures at the goblin who, when Torbek had frightened everyone, had dropped from Hootsie's neck and landed head-first in the soft muck of the swamp. Gricko puts up a single thumbs-up, still quite stuck and dazed, though his nose peeks out just enough for him to breath without worry of suffocation.

Logan blinks. "He, is your doctor?"

"Not exactly, he is uh- let me pull him out, actually, he may want to correct you."

Frost does not move to pull Gricko up- but up Gricko comes anyway, a shhhhhplop! following some invisible force yanking him from the mud.

"Oh, thank you, Frosty," Gricko says, his voice becoming mumbled and somewhat slurred at the last word. "Anyway! Um, yes, I am not exactly a doctor, I am a druid. I can help with some basics healings but not everything."

"Like Torbek's various raaashes."

"Ooooh, you have rashes? Where?!"

"Remus, you will get rashes if you touch them," Janus says, reaching up with his cane and swiftly pulling Remus down to the ground. "Having a real body means you can actually get diseases now."

"Oh, Janny, you're saying that like it's a bad thing!"

"Which means real, symptoms? Including things like death?"

"I still don't see the issue here."

"Okay. Does anyone have a leash?"

"Ooooooh, yes, please."

"Eugh."

[fellthemarvelous]

The Small Back Room - Maggie's Record Shop (unhinged meta no one asked for, part 1)

I'm going to cover these in two separate posts because there are a lot. This post is going to be dedicated to the artists with multiple covers in Maggie's shop.

*This is all bonus content from The Arrival (2x1).

What is the purpose of the record shop? It's called The Small Back Room, and it's connected to Aziraphale's bookshop. And a small back room seems like a place someone would store their records.

"If I owned a record shop, I'd be more concerned about people breaking in and leaving more records behind." - Nina

And someone left more records behind. Records of "Every Day".

Aziraphale hears Gabriel sing a human song that Aziraphale is unfamiliar with, so he goes to the record shop to ask Maggie, who actually has way too many copies of "Every Day" because of a pub in Edinburgh, the place with the cemetery that has the statue of Gabriel.

There is more to it though. The pub called the Resurrectionist that plays "Every Day" over and over on the jukebox (and somewhere in America John Mulaney is cackling like a madman) now has direct ties with Aziraphale's personal life because they ended up in Maggie's record shop.

The place where they met Elspeth and Wee Morag, Mr. Dalrymple, messed with dead bodies, and where Crowley saved one woman's soul from Hell.

We heard one passage from Aziraphale's diary, and it was about the time he and Crowley went to Edinburgh that started off with them looking at the statue of Gabriel.

We know Aziraphale has more than 600 volumes of personal written history (as of 1827).

Where is he going to store records of his life on Earth? A record shop that no one other than him visits, attached to the building he owns.

The walls lined with record covers that are telling stories. Clues as to where the story is going to take us? Could they be Aziraphale's diaries or other important records Aziraphale has kept for thousands of years?

And is anyone else concerned about "Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment" or is that just me? Heaven is the third floor when you look at the button arrangements on the lift. ⬆️⬆️ ⬇️⬇️

Oslo Revival 1. Come on Over to Our Third Floor Apartment (We're Having a Party / Just for You / Four in a Bed / Have This Drink / It Doesn't Taste Weird / We'll Take Care of You / We Love You / You're One of Us Now / Together Forever) 2. Disguises (Carol and Her Hat / The Bicycle / Memories of a Windchime / Lunch / Who Am I Today? / Make Me Cry / Peggy Asked for Her Jumper Back) 3. It's Raining in My Kitchen (You Cast a Spell on My Wife / Running into Danger / Transcending the Patriarchy / Plumbing / A Dozen Eggs, (Too Many) / Someone New in the Bedroom) 4. Better Together

Kubasulu 1. Great White Lies (Fishy Business / Fluent in Shark-asm / Vanish into Fin-air / Gettin' Chummy / You're Gill-ty / No-fin Left to Lose / I Chews You) 2. Sweating in the City

Rat Keith 1. Look at This Mountain (The Mountain I Climbed / Assorted Wailing Chants of Peril / I Ate Some Berries (Shouldn't Have Done That) / What Happens on the Mountain, Stays on the Mountain / I See It in My Dreams / Soiled Leaves and Soft Bark / Don't Touch the Mushrooms / Huddle for Warmth / My Map Blew Away / This is My Home Now / Finally Rescued) 2. A Dog in God's Hot Car 3. Chem Trails

Raga Koboj 1. Raga Koboj 2. Earth, Swallow Me Whole (Why Can I Just Stay in Bed? / Sighing Loudly / No One's Going to Lunch / I'm Hungry But I Don't Want to Eat Alone / I Wonder What's on the Menu Today / Probably Something Mediocre / I'm Tired / It's Friday / I Wish It Would End) 3. Just Sounds 2.0 (Falling Coin / Stubbed Toe / Oops! / Rice in a Bowl / Spoon Clang / Gagging / Crinkled Paper / Bad Alphabet / Winded)

Deaf Dust 1. Change the Lightbulb (Cartwheels in Mexico / The cinnamon candle / Hold Me / Let Go / Who wait's for us? / Awesome / The basement's pretty dark / Broken Bulb / Stairway to your Mum's house) 2. Snapshots from the Moon

Randa Ransom 1. Doin' it in the Dust (Hard on the Rocks / Ridin' the Horizon / Tall Drink of Water / Wear My Hat / Call My Name / Let Me Use a Saddle / Just Us in the Dust) 2. I'm Lost and I Don't Speak the Language (Lost in Tokyo / WHat's that shop selling? / Sex Dolls (Self-Assembly) / Where's the Bathroom? / This Toilet is Singing / More Sex Dolls / There's a Cafe for Cats / I Want to Go Home / What's Home in Japanese? / Take Me Anywhere Taxi Man) 3. The Answer May Surprise You

Georgina O'Georgia 1. Gorgeous in Georgia ("Oh, George You're Gorgeous" / "It's Georgia with a G!" / "Get your hands off my hair" / "Yes, that's my real name") 2. Spur of the Moment

CT Bazz 1. Locking Up & Looking Down 2. Dank Balaclava

I've never seen anyone talk about these though, but they seem important. Have I missed conversation surrounding these? I'm just really curious as to what other people might think.

As I said above, there is a part two, but that part will cover artists with only one cover.

[purplexing-writing-and-concepts]

{Am I…a God? Neat!}

-Chapter Three: The Stars Align Once More-

A simple meditation was all Aether wanted. A quiet moment to gather himself after the events of the Dvalin confrontation that went array. That abyss mage's whinny voice was still ringing in his ears like a faint bell but that wasn't the main thing he was worried about. The static like noise that rung out in his head a few moments ago when he was at the Adventure's Camp near Dragonspine was his main concern. It sounded so familiar and the aura that came with it was unmistakable.

Aether opened his golden eyes to glace over to Paimon as she floated near him devouring a chicken-mushroom skewer. Even she'd heard and felt the sensation, so Aether knew he wasn't losing it. To think that just maybe his guardian was alive after all these years provided the young man some comfort. Because if they were here, they'd know where Lumine is and who the Unknown God was that attacked the two. He released a sigh as he slightly hardened his face into a frown.

'Why Dragonspine of all places Cosmi...?' He thought to himself. The mountain was unforgiving and he with all honesty hated traversing it. From the sheer cold feeling too much like the day Cosmi died to the near constant stream of enemies that all but always used the environment to their advantage.

Paimon sent a worried look over towards her blonde-haired companion. While she was used to him being semi-mute the silence was normally comfortable, but this silence was nerve racking. She still can't comprehend there being a god this old and strong being connected to Teyvat let alone having created it. Though to be fair before Aether went silent, he commented a bit on what the feeling meant and reassured her that everything was fine.

"Paimon thinks we should head to the peak as soon as possible...Did you hear Iris mentioning seeing the Fatui pulling out of the area and adventures cheering about a lack of monsters as well? This may be our only chance to get there was very little resistance..And besides we shouldn't keep them waiting this tugging sensation is getting stronger...."

All she got in response was a nod the blonde still seemed to be not talking seemingly lost in thought. She decided to take this time to fill the tense air with her chatter and question to hopefully make Aether relax a little or at least get some more answers from him. "So, Aether what are they like?" He paused his movements for a moment scanning the snowy area for a bit before humming," Cosmi was....is the most understanding yet unfeeling being I've known...They seem distant but there's a fondness and closeness that always told me I was loved...when my sister and I would travel the world's they created they'd always give us this knowing smile and some items that would help us on our journey in that world..."

Paimon nodded her head processing the information," Hmm they sound pretty great--Wait what is that?!" Her gray eyes caught sight of a weird creature that was floating near them. It was mainly a mint green with blue. It looked similar to a seelie and slime mixed together. It had what appeared to be two large bulbous arms that weren't connected to it but moved in tandem with it. The creature floated closer slightly closer raising one arm like a covering one's eyes from the sun before releasing a sharp chirp like sound and all but charging in their direction.

The white-haired child released a squeak as she zipped behind Aether who took a protective stance pulling out his sword. The creature then stopped a few feet in front of them. Close enough that They would clearly see it but not close enough for Aether to swing his sword and attack. It waved its arms in an excited motion twirling happily and overall appeared to be dancing. "What the heck is that?!?!"

"I'm not sure, but at least it appears friendly...?" Aether said quietly. He wasn't too sure of his claim but was at least semi confident he could take it out if it came down to a fight. The creature then released a soft jingle as it floated around Aether seemingly trying to communicate. The blonde's face held a mild smile as he tried to hide his confusion and concern though his eyes betrayed him. Paimon's face suddenly lit up and her small halo gained a soft golden glow as the stars turned white.

As the lights dimmed bit Paimon seemed to gain a smug smile to her face as the creature then began to give a series of jingles and she began to nod her little head. She then placed a hand on her chin eyes closed in apparent contemplation before she smirked a little as she spoke," He said his name is Polaris and he can help us get to the peak...he says someone named (Y/n) tasked him with gathering all the creatures of the mountain to the peak as well..."

"Wait isn't that the all-creator? What do they want with hillichurls and slimes?" Paimon asked curiously. The creature now known as Polaris, released another set of jingles causing the floating child nod again as she spoke," Yeah that makes sense...He said that the (Y/n) wanted to personally introduce themselves to the inhabitants of Dragonspine and also get a head count of every being that lives on the mountain..."

Aether's expression suddenly dropped hearing this," So I will have to wait to speak with them then..." He was a bit miffed at the thought of having to wait to see his parent again especially since he knows where they are, and he has no clue if they really know of Lumine's disappearance or not. The boy decided it would be best to focus on something else, so he began to speak, "Well how are you going to help us reach the peak? It's blocked off by a barrier of pure cryo energy..."

At his question Polaris waved his gelatinous arms in apparent glee before wrapping them around both Paimon and Aether as it glowed a soft golden color. "Hey, wait what are you?!" Paimon attempted to screech as the golden light blurred their vision before fading showing a large exit of a cavern with a waypoint statue nearby. There was an unprecedented number of enemies from slimes and whooper flowers to the cryo hypostasis and lawachurls. To say it was unsettling to be around such strong creatures and so many at that would be putting it lightly.

Polaris then let go of the two as it then shot into the air towards a figure that was floating above the ruins. Its soft jingles could be heard though faintly, Aether looked over at Paimon for a possible explanation as to what it was saying but the girl just gave her own unsure shrug turning her attention back towards the creatures that were all now definitely staring at them.

Aether nervously stopped himself from grabbing his sword before his thoughts were drawn towards a figure that was casually approaching the two. His eyes slowly adjusted to spot the unmistakable figure of arguably the most important being in his life next to his sister, standing (Well relatively speaking they were still floating a bit off the ground) in front of him that same calm and gentle smile on their face. Though looking at their eyes he knew they were exhausted.

The young man wordless charged towards them as they opened their arms embracing their son. "Oh, Aethereal it has been many a nova since we last saw each other hasn't it...I've missed you as well..." It was at this point Paimon decided to cut in, "Oh wow so you're the all-creator? It's nice to meet you! Paimon has been taking good care of Aether while you were away! Does Paimon get a reward?"

(Y/n) did their best to hold back a chuckle at the small child's words. Rubbing their son's back as the young man was still clinging onto them, they spoke," Just a moment Paimon...Though I thank you for giving my dearest starlight a reliable companion in such a difficult time in his life..." While they meant what they'd said they soon regretted speaking it out as Paimon all but seemed to glow from the praise.

At seeing the little fairy puff up in pride (Y/n) turned their attention back to their son," Aether dear I'm not going anywhere you can let me go..." Though they tried to pry the blonde's arms from them it did little to stop Aether from hugging tighter as he began to shake. The tears he was shedding having barely settled. This drew a sigh from the older being as they gave him a tired smile softly pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head.

"You were always the more sensitive one of you two...Oh how this reminds me of when you were little..." At the start of the sentence Aether moved his head a bit trying to hide his embarrassment releasing a small whine of protest. "Oh, it's nothing to be embarrassed about Aethereal~" They teased as the boy then moved a bit letting go of the hug but still clinging onto the sleeves of (Y/n)'s shirt.

(Y/n) took the silence that grew over everything as an opportunity to speak freely," I know where Luminous is, but it will be difficult getting to her as I am now...I'm sorry there isn't more I can do...being dormant for so long as drained much of my power for regeneration..." Aether seemed to shake his head a bit before softly speaking fearing his voice would betray him, "Cosmi...It's fine as long as you know where she is I-...I'll be okay.." Taking a moment to wipe the young man's tears (Y/n) gave another soft smile.

"Now Paimon about that reward of yours...hmmm" The ancient being closed their eyes for a spilt second before sticking a hand towards Paimon in a giving motion. For a moment nothing happened until the halo upon the floating child's head glowed a soft gold once more before the light faded," There that should be adequate enough..." The white-haired child tilted her head confused," But Paimon doesn't feel any different...?"

Her reaction caused (Y/n) to release a small chuckle," Try thinking of something you want most little one" They said as they held an amused look. Paimon seemed to think for a moment," Paimon could go for some sticky honey roast right about now..." At the child's words her halo glowed the same soft gold as before as a plate suddenly appeared floating in front of her. On it a plate of sticky honey roast sat as if it were pulled fresh from the oven.

The floating child's eyes seemed to pop out of her small head as she didn't know how to react to the dish's sudden appearance. "Oh, and one more thing little one...use this little gift wisely while it may be tempting to use all the time too much and you'll tire yourself out..." Paimon nodded her little head so fast Aether was sure it would fly off before she dug into the roast that was oddly still warm despite the chill of the mountain.

"Back to more important matters now...Aethereal you'll have to introduce me to your new friends I'm quite interested in meeting them. And as far as the issue with Dvalin goes I will assist in curing him..." Aether's mood seemed to greatly increase at that, "Of course Cosmi...and I'm glad you're back..." The old god smiled as they spoke, "Me too little star...me too"

[ripple-reader]

the rainlord

My entry for the Inklings Challenge! Well, the first draft, anyway. Although I guess it's technically complete and I might just tweak some things around? Might still try to get a different prompt done but it's probably too close to the deadline already...

---what a beautiful soul.

Ah, right. What you came for, little mage-in-training.

Your affinity is water.

Who--- what are you? Why are you in chains?

That… is not so important. So I may see those like you, little one.

and that I may help them---

Underneath the shade of a tree, the dreamer stirred awake. His mind bleary, the details from the vision already swiftly escaping him, he blinked open his blue eyes. He realized, as he reached to rub them, to get his unruly white hair away from them, that there were tears on them. A memory--- or something important.

He did not have too many of those--- or rather, they were beyond his reach, for now. Ever since that day he woke upon the ruins--- for a given amount of wakefulness--- he had been missing details of his past, although they did tend to crop up in his dreams, like just now.

"Oi! You finally awake?"

He found himself smiling despite his grogginess, his eyes turning towards the source of the familiar voice. It was the young woman who was his companion, looking as she always did, in her traveling gear that was much like his, a host of brown that blended with the dirt of the road, durable shirts and trousers and boots. With a few blinks he found her cherubic face, her short brown hair and bright brown eyes regarding his sleepy form with amusement.

"Hey, Ashe." he greeted, lamely. Slowly, his faculties came back to him. "Oh. Are we leaving already?"

"Well, that's the plan." she said, in a tone that mixed amusement and exasperation. "You didn't tire yourself out too much while I was away, did you?"

"Oh, I just helped here and there, much like you were doing." he lightly replied. "They were saying I was a guest and I shouldn't be helping so much, so in the end I ended up napping." he chuckled.

"Mrm." Ashe made a noise of agreement. "I helped them hunt for food and forage for plants and mushrooms and then the grandma at the inn ended up loading a lot of it for us when we go. They're very sneaky."

"They're very kind. Very warm." he said. He straightened from his slouch and then slowly stood up.

"Meanwhile, this weather is too hot." Ashe observed drily--- although the comment had a tone of concern--- a concern that they had ever since they stopped upon this farming village for rest.

The place was stricken with drought. From here, one could see the fields that the townsfolk tended to, the grains having grown… but were, in the pitiless gaze of the sun, starting to wilt. The ground was flaking and cracking into sand.

And even yet, for the two of them, who were mere strangers, they shared of their limited food, their limited drink.

"I've done a little bit of… filling their wells." he confessed. "But I don't know if that would be enough. And anything more…"

He paused.

"I… know that we should be cautious. Many people are on the lookout for… people like us." he continued. "Something as big as… what I'm thinking… if I can even do it… it would probably alert them. And then… they might be reckless in seeking us out."

Ashe considered his words. "Well, we can't be certain about a lot of things." she began. "But you're talking to the wrong person, I'm the reckless one here, remember?" she jested. "What's certain, though, is that they'd probably run out of their stores if nothing happens. And if what you bring down is big enough, if it covers so much area, they won't be able to pinpoint where it comes from, right?"

That… is not so important. So I may see those like you, little one.

and that I may help them---

With that, it was his turn to laugh. "You really have a gift for getting straight to the point. Although you're giving me an even harder hurdle to clear, huh?"

Ashe smiled back. "Then let's say our goodbyes and get ready our parting gift."

They proceeded to do just that. It took some more time--- while it seemed at first glance that the villagers were busy in their day-to-day life, everyone was ready to stop what they were doing to talk to them, and much like the grandma at the inn, some of them had gifts for them as well. They were… truly kind. He wondered if he could truly repay the favor.

Soon they were on the road. A good distance away, and yet the fields were still visible, past the brush and the trees.

"This might be a good spot. Keep watch for me, Ashe?"

"Sure, sleeping beauty."

He chuckled at the jibe, and sat on the ground.

What did he have from his past? What did he carry in his mind, in his flesh, in his bones? Just a name--- Rhyme--- and just a couple of strange abilities--- abilities he was informed were called magic. To hear, to feel, the feelings of others--- although that was not so important at the moment, with only the watchful, excited presence of Ashe to observe--- although it did help press the point for him just how sincere the villagers were. And the second---

Your affinity is water.

Water was an integral part of humanity, and even most other beings that dwelled in this world, but it felt even more integral for him. He could feel very little of it in his immediate vicinity, and yet he could feel… that he could pull it. From somewhere, from far away. It was like his body was also water, and like called to like.

He did not know the spells, or the rites--- or at least he did not remember them, at the moment. But still--- still, he thought he could try. For those who had welcomed them so easily, who had given of themselves, he will attempt to give a bit of himself.

He closed his eyes. He tensed, and he pulled.

For a moment, it seemed, nothing was happening, and the only moisture was the sweat on his skin. But he kept at it, pulling with all his might. He prayed to the Almighty, although his amnesia made it so that he knew little of the faith. He pulled, from an ocean somewhere, from clouds far away.

Oh, my Lord. I need an amount commensurate to my gratefulness.

Something began to collect, to congregate, to swirl. He could feel it in his metaphorical fingers--- it was starting to build, like a growing flow, a torrent--- no, he needed more. His body throbbed and strained. He kept pulling.

Absentmindedly he noted Ashe's gasp, but he dared not forfeit his concentration.

A torrent was not enough. A stream was not enough. A brook was not enough. What he needed… was a river. A fleet of gathering clouds. He heaved. He gasped. He shook.

Something like thunder rumbled in the distance.

What I need… is a flood. A storm.

He could not ignore it anymore. The wind was picking up, playing with his hair. A smell like dew, like petrichor, tickled his nose. More than that, his spirit throbbed and sang.

"Rhyme! It's working! Look!"

He opened his eyes.

The sky that had been mercilessly clear before was filled with a vast curtain of thick gray clouds. He wondered how it must have looked to Ashe, to see the clouds come, but well, he wasn't still sure how to pull this off. Already he was feeling tired, and he wasn't even done yet.

"You do know that I'm trying to focus here." he jabbed, but he was grinning. This was… this was the most he had ever tried to do, and it was looking good. There were still a lot of unknowns--- how all sorts of people would respond to this--- but right now, this was certain.

It was going to rain.

"I suppose we'll be using our cloaks again after so long." he joked.

He raised his palm towards the sky, tightened it into a fist, and pulled it down. In response, lightning danced and thunder rumbled, and the weeping of the sky commenced.

[thedragonagelesbian]

"You had better have something good, devil. We sacrificed a lot taking care of your little problem."

"Oh, yes, your sanguineous angel, but that hardly counts as 'a lot', does it? For a man who barters away his body in the drip-drip-drips of blood, death is a triviality-- provided that it aids those around him. That is why you chose him, is it not?"

Astarion doesn't want to think about it-- Raphael's words or the events that inspired them. He wants to be relieved to finally know Cazador's plans, or angry to still be bound to his master's will. He should be indulging in whatever emotion feels most pleasurable after their grueling fight with the orthon and its hard-won prize, but he can't. Pacing the camp in long, sweeping strides, those words echo in his head, and every time he blinks, he's there again. The cavern of carrion and a bloody fallen angel at its heart, wings of serrated steel lifting off a fraction of a moment too late before the bombs at his feet lit him up.

Cyrus apologized, when Astarion's hands and voice stopped trembling long enough to use the scroll of revivify. Gasping back to life, and the first thing he did with the new air in his lungs was say how sorry he was for going down. He didn't care how much he hurt, just that someone else might've gotten hurt instead while he was down.

He never cares--not in the orthon's lair, not when he let Astarion drain him dry at the start of their travels together--so why should Astarion?

Hells, nothing has come of choosing Cyrus anyway. Cyrus would be just as willing to die for him if they were friends, strangers, even enemies (if Minthara's presence in their camp is any indication) instead of lovers.

And they aren't. That. The night that Last Light fell, Astarion found Wyll standing vigil over Cyrus' bound, thrashing form, and he realized that he could never give Cyrus what he needed, what he deserved-- a fairy tale prince to sweep him off his feet and keep him safe even from himself.

And now, Cyrus never has to know. The plan, the pointless sex, the needless manipulation, that brief stretch of time when Astarion dared to hope that there might've been a kinder purpose to it all, Cyrus doesn't need to know any of it. Better just to let the plan--the relationship--die quietly.

So why did he feel so godsdamn guilty?!

He's so distracted by his thoughts that he doesn't realize someone has left their tent and joined him until he hears his name: "Astarion?"

Flinching, Astarion turns and reaches for a knife. Maybe he should hold on to that panic when he sees Cyrus--remember how he writhed and snarled at Wyll's feet? how he screams and seethes in battle, every scarred inch a barbarian?--but the fear floods from him with a huff. "Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I heard footsteps." The elven aasimar gives a shrug, and then a wince he can't quite smother. "Are you alright?"

"Am I...? You're the one who's barely standing."

"Is that sulphur?" Cyrus looks around the camp as if Astarion hasn't said anything. "Was Raphael here? Did he tell you about your scars?"

Astarion scoffs. "Oh, no, darling, I am not having a conversation about the thing that will decide my fate forever more when you are too exhausted to be appropriately concerned."

"I am concerned! Appropriately so."

Obstinate ass that he is, Cyrus just keeps staring at Astarion with that wide-eyed frown of his, enormous and pleading, and Astarion has no choice but to sigh. "Ugh, very well, maybe I'll tell you, but only if you go back to your bedroll right now."

Cyrus tries to protest again, but as he crosses his arms, he adjusts his posture in such a way that makes his face tighten again. Casting his eyes downward, he mutters, "...Fine."

Together, they duck into Cyrus' tent, sparsely furnished save for some weapons, the odd mushroom or herb he's collected, and a few spare medicinal vials. While Cyrus sits down, Astarion grabs one of them-- the paste of lavender and valerian that Halsin brews to help Cyrus trance.

"And if you actually rest after this."

Cyrus rolls his eyes, a rare display of cattiness that only manifests when someone is worried about him (Astarion will never admit how much he enjoys provoking it). "Leave it to the former magistrate to add conditions at the last moment. Fine, yes, I'll try to trance soon."

Astarion opens the pot, and Cyrus gives a small nod, so he moves in close-- closer than they've been in a while. Cyrus used to come to his tent every evening with his neck bared, all too eager to give and give and give, and the only reason he stopped was because he was afraid of hurting the next person who came too near. But he doesn't stop Astarion now as he dips his fingers into the salve and brings them to Cyrus' temple. His skin is as Astarion remembers it, a burning fever pitch beneath the cold marble of his own. He rubs the poultice in gently, and he doesn't miss the way that Cyrus leans into his touch.

Moving to the other temple, Cyrus stifles a grimace. The blood and ash may have washed away, but there's still a gnarled bruise set just below his blind eye, and probably countless more beneath his tunic. A half dozen new scars too, all the evidence of everything he's bled away as if it didn't mean anything to him.

Does it mean anything to him?

"You're hopeless," Astarion says suddenly.

Cyrus responds with a smile, thin but undeniable. "You've said that before."

"Well, I wouldn’t have to keep saying it if you didn’t keep slicing yourself open every chance you get." The metal of his wings, the sigils of blood carved into his skin, his sword every morning cutting his stomach to sheathe the blade in holy light.

Cyrus twists away from him at that. "It doesn't hurt so much once you get used to it."

Astarion's thoughts flicker to Araj. To the hundreds of nights spent over the centuries willing his mind away from his body. He should've thanked Cyrus for it sooner, but he didn't want the conversation to drift to their relationship. He still doesn't (doesn't he?), but as he grabs a rag to clean the salve from his hand, he feels the ring around his finger-- the one enchanted to pass his suffering along to Cyrus, because apparently his own burdens aren't enough to shoulder alone, he has to take on Astarion's too, even if it kills him, and it has killed him, and he doesn't even care, damn him damn him!

"Don't lie to yourself, darling." He yanks the ring off of his finger. "And take this back."

Cyrus furrows his brow again. "You don't want it anymore?"

"I never wanted it. I can protect myself, you know." When Cyrus doesn't take it, Astarion grabs his hand and presses the ring into his palm. "You're the one who's always standing with one foot in the grave."

"I've only died a couple of times." Cyrus' tone shifts, not merely concerned but defensive, proud, like he wants someone to pat him on the head and tell him what a good job he's done martyring himself.

Astarion's grip tightens, skin prickling.

"A couple more than the rest of this damn party."

"One of those times was your fault!"

"It was your fault!"

It's quiet in the tent after that.

"You could have stopped me." Astarion doesn't know when his throat clenched up so tight, or why he can't look Cyrus in the eye anymore, but the words are strained and his gaze is affixed to their hands. Cyrus' are much more interesting to look at-- freckled, scarred, split crimson across the back and stained red at the tips of his fingers, and Astarion remembers how they closed around him as he lapped up the last dregs of Cyrus' life. "Spoken up, thrown me off if I didn't listen, plunged a stake into my heart, even," he probably would've deserved it, "but you didn't. You just sat there and let me... Why didn't you stop me?"

"Why would I?" The response comes hollow and hoarse. "You needed my blood, what did I care if you took all of it?" Astarion wants to tell him the truth--that he cares, even if Cyrus doesn't--but the words won't come, windpipe clotted with everything he does (doesn't) want to say, confession and betrayal in equal measure, so he just sits there while Cyrus folds in on himself, nails biting at his back. "It's not... real. My body, it's never felt like it's mine. It's just... something to give away, to make up for— for the rest of it. The urges in my head."

"...My body hasn't been mine in two centuries. Like everything else, it belonged to Cazador, sent out to lure pretty things back to his estate. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered." He risks a glance up at Cyrus. His mismatched eyes, scarlet and storm, burn with a kindness Astarion hasn't received in a lifetime. "When you stood up for me in front of that vile blood merchant, you showed me that it doesn't have to be that way anymore. That I'm not just a means to an end." He wants to pull Cyrus close enough to feel his pulse, that fierce but fragile heart that someone needs to protect because Cyrus certainly isn't going to do it himself. "It doesn't have to be like that for you either."

Now Cyrus won't look at him. Maybe blowing up hurts worse than blood loss because instead of deflecting, he murmurs, "I... I'm not sure what else there is."

"Neither am I..." Astarion realizes he's still holding Cyrus' hand, and he brushes his thumb across his knuckles, savoring this last touch. "I thought once, maybe, we could have found out together," he pulls his hands away, "but you deserve something better."

"What do you mean?"

"...That I feel awful." There's no avoiding it now, so Astarion swallows thickly and continues. "Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan. Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy, instinctive, and you were eager for intimacy after that unfortunate incident with the bard." His stomach curdles, seeing the fear that always flits across Cyrus' face at the mention of Alfira, that same fear he took advantage of when Cyrus dropped to his knees and whispered that all he wanted was to prove his hands were good for something other than murder. "But my nice, simple plan fell apart, and now... now, you should have something real."

Something with someone else.

Cyrus doesn't respond at first, blinking, processing, he reaches up to touch his neck. Though Astarion hasn't fed for him in days, the marks have been there since that first night. Will be there forever. "'Real'?" he echoes with a small, dry laugh. "What is 'real'? All I have is this tadpole and this damned headache... I really wish you hadn't..." He rakes his hand through his hair. Astarion has always wondered what it would feel like under his fingers, not grasping Cyrus' skull as he bleeds him but gently braiding and unbraiding the thick strands. "I was so scared that night. Did it really mean nothing to you?"

"Of course it meant something-- that's the problem. Or part of it... I don't know what 'real' is either. Being close to someone--any kind of intimacy--used to be something I performed. Maybe it could have been different with you, but..."

"But...?" Astarion doesn't want to say it aloud: that things had been over for them since before they ever began, from the moment he was too greedy to stop drinking. "Astarion, I still care about you."

So when Cyrus says that, it batters him as surely as any shield or hammer.

"...Really?"

Astarion doesn't need air anymore, but he holds his breath anyway, watching Cyrus watch him, and he remembers what the other elf said when he found him staring at an empty mirror: I see you.

Cyrus lunges. Astarion stiffens, almost recoiling, but then Cyrus' arms close around him. His body is sunlight, enveloping and warm and hard, muscles tight and protective. Always so damn protective... but Astarion feels the shudder when he returns the hug. How Cyrus softens as Astarion presses himself close. All the strength required to endure so much pain, it melts away, and what's left is raw. Tender. Real.

Cyrus buries himself in Astarion's neck. Astarion wonders if it helps with the headache, flame against ice. He's never thought to ask before now. "I don't care what we are or what we do, but I care about you. Please keep the ring."

"I will-- Cyrus." He can't remember the last time he called Cyrus by name, but he savors the syllables now, a caress of a whisper. Perhaps the only caress he'd ever want. "...Please rest."

Astarion doesn't know how to ask for the rest of it yet-- maybe it wouldn't be fair, to ask Cyrus to stop sacrificing himself when they still have a world to save, but he can ask for this, for now, for Cyrus to let himself be at some kind of peace.

"For you.... With you."

[ryker-writes]

The meeting

A short in which Jaxon and I meet featuring both my self insert, my peacock insert, and a slight mention of a potential new oc!

It was a normal day in Heartslabyul. Students maintaining the garden, playing with hedgehogs, drinking tea, Ace getting robbed, taking care of the flamingos, and eating sweets. Nothing out of the ordinary really. Ryker had promised Deuce that he would help him study like normal, but Deuce was no where to be found.

"Hey Ace, do you know where Deuce is?"

Ace scrambled up off the ground and glared as a large bird ran off with money in its beak. His hair and clothes were a mess, but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

"You just watched a peacock jump on me and take all the money out of my pockets, and you're asking where Deuce is?"

"Considering that it ran here all the way from Pomefiore, I'm guessing you deserved it. Anyway, where's Deuce?"

"I hate you sometimes...but fine. He said he was meeting someone in the laboratory."

Ryker started walking off without another word leaving Ace behind to try and chase a bird for his money. Deuce being in the laboratory wasn't a bad thing. It just means they would work on their potions today for studying. Maybe Deuce wanted to get there early or one of his friends needs help studying too. Either way, Ryker saw no problem with it.

He made his way to the laboratory rather quickly and knocked on the door before going in. Sure enough, it seemed that Deuce brought a friend. Ryker smiled at Deuce and looked towards his friend...only for his smile to become more nervous. Standing over a textbook with Deuce, was the one and only Jaxon Crowley.

Of course Ryker's heard of him. The headmages son who would get into fights all the time and was known to dislike Heartslabyul students. The guy with the ability to make all those around him terrified of him without much effort. He was someone everyone wanted to avoid.

"Ryker-senpai! I swear I didn't forget about our study session. I just thought that maybe you could help Crowley-senpai too."

Jaxon's eyes flicked over to Ryker for only a second, but it was enough for Ryker to feel a bit scared.

"I, uh...sure...on one condition."

"Huh? But we don't have any conditions."

"All I ask is that you don't hurt me. I know you aren't a fan of Heartslabyul students so...I just want you to know that my friends in Diasomnia will be very upset if I get hurt. That includes Malleus."

"I really don't care. Your Diasomnia pals don't scare me, and you're not worth a fight. Doesn't look like you'd be much of a fight anyway."

"That's good to hear...I think. Okay then. What are you two studying?"

"We're supposed to be making this potion for class, but neither of us can get it right."

Deuce handed the textbook over to Ryker who scanned the page quickly. It wasn't too difficult of a potion to make. He glanced between the materials they already had out and the materials on the page,

"Do you guys have the chrysanthemums or the diced mushrooms?"

"No we don't."

"Right. Deuce can you get started on the mushrooms? Jaxon there should be some chrysanthemums on the shelf over there."

Jaxon huffed slightly before walking over to the shelf. It was then that Ryker felt like he could breathe a little more. Jaxon is a very intimidating guy to be around. It doesn't help that he's so much taller than both of them. Ryker himself only goes up to Jaxon's chest.

Though watching him stare at all the bottles and containers on the shelf was concerning. Having been over there many times, Ryker knew the flowers shouldn't be that hard to find. And yet Jaxon has been looking at the shelf for a couple minutes now. Hesitantly, Ryker walked over.

"Can't find it?"

"Crewel probably buried it somewhere."

Looking over the shelf, Ryker spotted the container almost immediately. It was right in front of Jaxon and very clearly labeled as chrysanthemums. How was Jaxon not seeing it? He was pretty much looking directly at it.

"It's right here."

Ryker picked up the container and showed it to Jaxon. He stared at it for a few seconds with an expression that looked like a mixture of frustration and confusion. The longer he stared at the label on the container, the more visibly frustrated he got. It was so tense that Ryker started to fear for his safety.

"Uhm...it's okay! It's pretty easy to miss. It took me a second to see it too."

"Stop. I don't need some colorful tiny brat trying to console me. I can see it just fine."

"Right...of course. Sorry. I was just trying to help."

"I don't need your help."

"Okay...well let's not consider this helping. Think of it as teamwork! Together we found it."

"Yeah. I don't work well in teams either."

"Then we'll say you found it. I came over here and you already found it. Easy as that."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Well, I'm here to help Deuce and you're his friend, so I'll help you too. That, and I really don't want you to hurt me."

"Relax. I'm not gonna hurt you, especially not over something as stupid as this. Besides, I have nothing against the dragon or Diasomnia, so you're fine."

Ryker laughed lightly, "Actually, I think more of the problem would come from my boyfriend. He's probably going to freak out over the fact that I'm talking to you."

"Should I expect him to try and fight me or something?"

"No no. If anything he'll just yell at you...but he yells at everyone. He won't hurt you though."

"Noted. Ignore the yelling if it comes."

"It's more of when than if. You'll hear it at some point while being here at school. It's guaranteed. Especially if you hang out with Deuce."

"Hey guys. I'm done with the mushrooms."

Ryker smiled at Deuce, and the three started working on the potion. While Jaxon seemed to struggle with the reading in the textbook, he did fine with the potion making after a little guidance. Despite how quiet Jaxon was, he got along fine with both of them. After many hours of practicing and working on the potion, the trio finally made it successfully.

"You two did great!"

"Thanks Ryker-senpai."

"Hey we should celebrate. I have some cake in the fridge back at the dorm. Think of it as a reward."

"Pass. It's recommended I don't enter Heartslabyul, and sweets aren't my thing anyway."

"Then how about we go to the Mostro Lounge! You can pick out a food you like there. But I'd have to make a stop at Pomefiore before that."

"Why?"

"Well there's a peacock there that likes to give the money to one of my friends. Oh, and you two can meet her! She's kinda a new student."

"You saying she'll just give you the money from the bird?"

"Yup! She's super nice and I help her out in the Botanical Gardens and taking care of the peacock."

"You have weird friends."

"Weird can be good. After today, you're one of those friends too. That's non-negotiable."

[sokokoko]

I have some old writing from 6 years ago that I want to keep but don't want it to take up space on my phone. So here!

I'm really laughing about how far I've come since then. My eyes are automatically correcting all the mistakes and cringe I see, but I won't actually correct them, for your viewing pleasure ♥︎

I really want to rewrite this one day. Back when I wrote it, I didn't have the skill or dedication to continue on or actually get to all the sweet, fun things I wanted to incorporate.

Pyre & Frost

Chapter 1: Some Say The World Will End In Fire, Some Say In Ice. Pt 1

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Hold your dAmN horses Caleb! This forest is private property."

This angry sentence was directed to none other than a black haired teen with dark chocolate eyes.

He was a tall, lanky fellow with tan-coloured skin.

The one delivering the scolding was a teen with strawberry blonde hair, with little strands of light blonde hair to be seen in certain places.

He had pale skin and was about 5'7, while his companion was 6'1.

He too had brown eyes, albeit lighter.

"C'mon Kai, who gave them the right to make it a 'nature reserve'? We've been coming here years before they did! We basically live here, hell, we may as well own it!"

The boy, Kai, frowned sighing. There was just no winning with Caleb around.

"Fine, but we have to go deep, to the unprotected parts. I don't want to get arrested because you want to 's'plore'."

Kai walked ahead past his scoffing friend.

"Damn it Kai. I haven't said s'plore in years! I don't even talk like that anymore..."

But alas, Kai wasn't even listening. Caleb may as well have mumbled that last sentence.

Caleb sulked quietly, as he jogged to catch up with his friend.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

As much as the two didn't want to get arrested for trespassing, maybe they shouldn't have gone so far.

They had never gone this far into the forest before.

Why would they need to?

As far as they were concerned, before, it was THEIR forest. Nobody bothered them there.

If anyone DID enter the forest, it's not like they noticed.

But now THEIR sanctuary was crowded with over-enthusiastic tourists and uncaring chav teens on school tours.

It wasn't fair that they had to go to the dangerous part of the forest, where hideous, heinous roars and growls were heard every few seconds.

This area proved to be more dark and swampy, with rough terrain.

Those stupid people probably took one look at this part of the forest thinking; 'And get my Gucci heels dirty? Heck naw.'

The foliage in the area was also untamed and wild, the tallest trees greedily soaking in sunlight.

Fallen trees were engulfed in moss and mushrooms. The place was, overall, quite gloomy.

Thought I was getting off topic? No, but store this information for later.

Back to those growls, what animal were those? They sounded so in sync, and disgustingly unnatural.

"Kai, which way's back?" Caleb said nervously.

In all the years he had known him, Caleb was the absolute picture of confidence. Nervousness just didn't suit him.

That was the first sign something was wrong.

The second was when all the markings they put on the trees, and stones they left as a trail, completely disappeared.

As in, like, before their very eyes.

One second they're there, looking at the markings and trail ready to follow it back, the next POOF!

"What the hap is fuckening!?" Kai shouted, his poor brain too confuzzled to even English properly.

"I'm not going crazy, right bud? You saw that too right!?" Caleb looked about ready to faint.

So remember those growls that I told you were really important?

Well, they seemed to be getting closer.

And louder.

"So, I'm thinking we should run..."

"But we can't go back the way we came! Those things are probably carnivores..."

Kai, as he said those words, looked close to having a panic attack.

"Ok fine. We might end up somewhere else but as long as we get out of this forest we're fine."

Caleb said trying to compose himself and calm his friend's worries.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

'What went wrong?'

I s'pose you're wondering whose thoughts those are?

Well, those were the thoughts of our two main protagonists.

I also suppose YOU'RE wondering what went wrong?

Well to say it plainly;

Caleb stared unblinkingly into the beast's eyes. Could they even be called eyes?

The beast itself was a raging inferno, a mess of blaze that radiated smoke and ash.

'A beast of pyre.'

That was what Caleb thought as the beast of fire sunk it's fangs into his shoulder.

Kai was having a similar predicament, yet very different.

His beast looked icy, watery and wispy at the same time.

Yet, he could tell it was a beast of ice from how the temperature seemed to drop.

'A beast of frost.'

That was his thoughts as the icy beast sunk cold, icicle-like fangs into his neck.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(A/N: I hope my narrating wasn't TOO ramble-y.)

Chapter 1.5: Some Say The World Will End In Fire, Some Say In Ice. Pt 2

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Warning: Blood n' stuff. Language?

(A/N: Slightly graphic? Like, one scene.)

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

A loud, gunshot-like noise that rang through the air served as distraction enough.

The noise was most likely poachers in the more docile part of the forest.

The boys ran, ran faster than they ever did before.

Their attackers were on hot pursuit, ready to spill blood. Not like they hadn't already.

Caleb's shoulder was bleeding so hard the crimson colour could be seen through his black shirt.

Kai, however was fairing much better. He'd be dead if he wasn't.

The frost-beast managed to miss any important veins or pressure points.

He was still bleeding heavily as the beast had sunk it's claws into his arms to pin him down properly.

He was glad he wore a t-shirt, small victories.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Tired, tired, they were oh so tired.

To top it all off, it was raining.

The blood by now had clotted, crusty patches adorning their injuries.

Kai let out a grunt of acknowledgement as he and Caleb stumbled into a house.

A mansion more like.

It had that cliché 'haunted mansion' vibe going for it, creeky floorboards and all.

Shelter's shelter. Am I right?

But Caleb was being unusually quiet.

"Caleb, before you say it, no, this isn't your fault. Well, not entirely. I was the one who said we should go deeper into the forest and if you say anything except it's both our faults I will get you un-emancipated. Somehow."

Caleb let out a hearty laugh, it was the most joyful he'd been in hours.

"We're both shitheads."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

After a couple hours of rest, the two shitheads were prepared to leave. It had even stopped raining, just for them!

Well they were PREPARED to leave, until they heard two voices chatting amongst themselves.

"Brother, the legend is coming true. The elements of Pyre and Frost are entering their true bloodlines once again."

Did I forget to mention that the 'voices' were a set of creepy ghost twins like in the movies?

Darn it. I did, didn't I ?

USUALLY, something like that warrants a scream but Caleb and Kai knew now wasn't the time.

"Yes Sister. For the first time in centuries, I heard the calls of the two unholy beasts. Their union was most beautiful."

The 'sister' giggled creepily as she grinned an inhuman grin.

"Wonderful! Oh, what was that one poem? The one by a man of the name Robert Frost, Brother?"

"Fire and ice, Sister. It reminds you of the legend, does it not?"

"The first time they appear, they shall bring ruin to entire civilisations. They shall brand the bloodline of those they deem worthy."

"The worthy ones will bring upon either destruction or a new era. Should the worthy Pyre choose the path of destruction he will be destroyed by his own selfish desires."

"Should the worthy one of Frost choose the path of destruction he will be destroyed by his own loathe-ful hatred. Only together, as Pyre & Frost can they bring about a new era."

"All that's left now is to see if after their encounter with the beast of Pyre and beast of Frost, will they bring about an era of peace or tyranny?"

Kai and Caleb didn't even notice when the two started to speak in unison.

They had encountered a beast of Pyre and one of Frost.

Hadn't they?

They ran from the building, unknowingly being guided back home by the two phantoms.

"They seem to be close friends. Whatever their newfound strengths are used for, destruction or creation, they'll bring it about together, Sister."

"Most curious, Brother. Most curious indeed."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(A/N: And so starts our story.)

[ride-thedragon]

NETTLES, FEMINISM AND THE MISTRESS STEROTYPE.

Now, before I start this, we don't have enough knowledge of this character to describe her with this archetype outside of the Maesters and Mushroom's portrait of her from their limited information about her life.

That being said, with the overall narrative, fire and blood paints of her, whenever the idea that Nettles changed Daemon or that Daemon changed with Nettles is brought up, it is almost always followed by the idea that it's a sexist reductive take that harms Rhaenyra, idolizes Nettles and always centers Daemon.

I don't like that.

Another thing that tends to be brought up is the idea that because it is a sexist trope, that men and women can't be friends, that black girls are inherently sexually promiscuous and the brutality they often face in media are all reasons why people who are fans of Nettles shouldn't want this plot line.

That's certainly a way to use words that don't apply to a situation.

The inability to think about the way that these things could be true and not just as reductive tropes is strange.

Asoiaf is literally a subversive and deconstructive series that analyzes conventional tropes. Why would it be so hard to think that someone would apply that to Nettles.

It's not sexist for a character (Nettles) to change a character (Daemon) for the better. That's literally how storytelling works. In the typically written narrative, Rhaenyra would find out about the affair, they would frame her as the worst person and the friendly people at maidenpool would help our lovers escape from the danger she put them in, leaving the scorned woman to her earned demise.

That's not what happens. George went out of his way to say the story tellers write the narrative that way.

Nettles' life is put on the line but the romantic aspect is not the only thing used against her. It's written into the narratives of the much bigger claim of her not being a dragonrider at all. That's she's a Witch that used spells to get her way and seduce a prince.

Then, a prince fights for her unnecessarily because the men who'd put her life on the line actively don't.

Then, the lover she'd run away with lets her go.

She then becomes the source of songs, plays, and a religion away from them.

Rhaenyra meeting her end has nothing to do with Nettles. It's war and sexism.

See how that's subversive.

Another thing is that saying Nettles changed Daemon is sexist towards Rhaenyra.

I love Rhaenyra, but nothing about this concerns her.

Daemon changing with Nettles does not discredit the kids, time, family, and abusive tendencies they share.

The reason Daemon is better is because his decision to let Nettles go only benefits Nettles by not letting her fight, risking her life for a woman who wants her dead. It's the best thing he does because it actively comes at the cost of his life as well. He dies in her absence.

I know a lot of people have an issue conceptualizing this next part, but sleeping with a married man is not as bad as a married man stepping outside his marriage. This concept is dragging, beating, and exploiting y'all.

Nettles is not an objectively good person, and that's okay. The text says this. She's a smart, compassionate war criminal that slaughtered multiple sheep to claim a dragon. Said Dragon had the largest body count of the sowing. Then she sleeps with the Rouge Prince. Actively avoids the concequence of that with his protection, is the only dragonriding Veteran of the Gullet to survive the Dance and casually created a religion observed by the most dangerous tribe in the Mountains of the Vale.

Your favorite character couldn't clear her roster. (Dany, Oberyn, my loves, this isn't about you ❤️ )

So the idea that this sweet, innocent girl is so much more deserving than what Thee Rouge Prince gives her is wild. Clothes, Comfort, Care, g*** d***(allegedly), Protection and Company for a street Urchin is really good as compared to literally every other treatment of a small folk girl we get.

(Shae, Tysha, Jeyne, I keep you with me.)

(Daemon did one thing, I still don't like him)

The moral policing of this ship is wild as hell as well. You all are shipping an emotionally and sexually exploited relationship between an uncle and niece. Rhaenyra has never had a chance to conceptualize her life outside of knowing Daemon, but a four month baecation with a horrific age gap, formed from very traumatic circumstances, is the moral line we won't cross?

A typical dark romance novel is the moral hill you'll die on?

No one is asking you to like this ship, but going out of your way to critique and pander to some inccorrect version of 3rd wave feminism from a very white woman perspective is crazy.

You would rather take away plot, character development, and an actual subversive romance in this world than admit that it might very well have happened.

Now, a lot of people with these critiques can never find bases in actual tropes to pin this on, hence the lackluster analysis we typically see.

The Jezebel and Mistress tropes specifically are tied to black women in media as a way to oversexualize, fetishize, and demonize black women.

These tropes have historical links to the dehumanizing of black women during and after slavery and tend to be used to justify (physical, emotional, sexual) violence by attributing promiscuous behavior to being deserving of violence.

Black women who are perceived as inherently sexual are comodified and stripped of their autonomy.

When it comes to white men, the perceived wanton, exotic ways of these women lure white men to their demise( sleeping with them). How is he meant to hold up against the temptation of the black seductress.

It's a trope from Slavery where white men would sexually exploit and abuse black women who'd then be blamed by their wives for seducing their husband.

Then, it grew to defend white men, the moral pillars of the Western world who actively sought out and slept with black women during segregation. (Young girls were obviously a target).

So if we were to play into that narrative, a black young woman being accused of witchcraft to seduce a white prince only to be immediately subjected to the violence because of it while he'd be left off free of her entrapment has some bite to it.

But have we considered that she didn't do it. The defense of Nettles being innocent is so strange because here she is killing the universal symbol for innocence (sheep) to gain power ( a dragon).

Nettles is literally one of the coolest characters just by doing what she did. The maesters and men of Maidenpool did not assume that she had used spells. The people closest to them saw the closeness, and instead of saying he's under a spell of hers, they say he's fond of her. Instead of being free after her death, he'd burn their castle down, and they'd face his wroth.

Everyone's favorite line, "Six men or Sixty men, he's Daemon Targaryen." Comes from the fact that they'd need to kill him if they want to kill her because of who he is and how he feels towards her.

That man is unfocused with the mission at hand but not enchanted.

Her sleeping with this man does not warrant what happens. It doesn't justify what Rhaenyra does and says, and it certainly does not ruin her character.

Daemon and his Valyrian blood kink crumbles at the same time he gets to know someone who he'd never be able to prove had some Valyrian blood in her. His only defense would be that it's never been done before. That's life changing.

Them bonding during war is clearly something that would happen.

A woman being better than a man has never stopped George. An age gap hasn't either. I think it's clear that they were sleeping together. That doesn't mean that that's what happened or that it's the most moral, healthy thing the the world. Let people have fun.

Y'all don't like Nettles. Y'all don't care about her outside of this relationship. Leave her alone and move on. Let's be serious and cut our losses.

If you do like Nettles, you don't need to like this relationship. But don't mischaracterize her and what little we know just because you don't want the less impressive Daemon around her. That's also really weird. Stock up on crackships like normal folks and ignore it.

That's it.

[bluebudgie]

Maybe I shouldn't be writing this in the middle of the night but here we go, as is tradition for LS releases the obligatory first impression opinion post:

(No story spoilers, vague map talk)

So this is my super-hot-just-off-the-stove first impression, obviously subject to change in the long run but... overall I've had a blast!

Let's get the stinker out of the way so we can focus on all the good stuff afterwards:

Many people have pointed this out before but this was... very bite sized. Unsure how Anet's release rhythm will be from now on so I don't want to judge too harshly, but this was essentially the fraction of an LS episode. We'll see how this holds up in the future!

Alright. With the elephant in the room adressed let's talk about the important things:

MAP. Don't know if it's just the novelty effect and how much of its magic will last as time passes but... I am a little in love. It feels like the lovechild of Draconis Mons and Dragon's Stand, with the Tangled Depths ley line cave-yness sprinkled in between (not that TD trademarked ley lines or caves but you know. ALSO CHAMPION MUSHROOM QUEEN? Anet really went 'whats the most hated HP, let's bring that back'). Looking at the worldmap the map itself doesn't even look that small but it feels kinda compact. Maybe because it's so clearly divided into smaller subsections? I don't see it housing a million secrets but I've only looked at it superficially so far so I'll gladly be proven wrong. Oh also I adore that annoying breather feature where you suffocate if you don't 'equip' an air filter. This is exactly the hostility I want to see in open world maps. Thanks.

META . Seems alright. Did it twice, was fun enough. Not mindblowing but I think I'm actually kinda glad about that. Wasn't ready for another mega-meta yet. Maybe on one of the later maps?

MUSIC. Did I spot a few new battle tunes during the meta? I think so. Big fan, needs more listening in detail.

STORY. Wasn't sure what to expect considering the plot could be going pretty much everywhere at this point. I'm definitely curious to see how this unfolds now. I see potential intrigue for a small handful of my characters' stories. Potentially concerning, tbh.

Overall very intrigued with this release. Unsure how memorable it'll be in the long run but for now I'm happy. Biggest highlight is definitely the map itself.

[darkdollyumi]

was talking to @lalnawiki about these Rythian journal pages and figured i might as well post them.

day 3 post-war

i knew it was coming but i have no one to blame but myself for not being more prepared. call it optimism, naivety or just plain stupidity- but there you have it.

their little pranks turned into full-scale war, and we all paid the price for it. SMRT Corp, The Rail Bros and Zoey and her mushroom forest all burned in the fires of full-scale nuclear aggression. I will not allow this to happen again. If necessary I will shoulder the responsibility of what needs to be done They will not thank me. They will not like me. They will call it aggression, villainy, warmongering... I call it retribution. Justice.

day 33 post-war

She's gone. It's my fault. I drove her away. I shouldn't have reacted that way - but why would she lie to me? Why would she keep that hidden? How could I have been so blind? She made me soft. Simple. Stupid. I spent more time looking at interior design or planning a pool project than what's important. So she's gone. Fine. I work better alone anyway. I need to be ready. I need to show them where the limits are. With every day that passes we get closer to another nuclear event. I can stop them. As for her... I don't care.

Wherever she is and whoever she is with, it's no longer my concern. I have more important things to worry about.

[ponreviews]

Super Mario Bros Movie - Letsa Go!!

Categories: Action, Adventure, Comedy

Rating: 9/10

Synopsis:

Mario and Luigi are just your average plumbers starting their own business in Brooklyn. The brothers find themselves investigating some strange happenings within the sewers beneath the city. The next thing they knew they were warped into a strange universe. Separated, Mario desperately does all he can to get his brother back, teaming up with a princess and a.... mushroom?? to do it all while protecting the Mushroom Kingdom in the process.

Review:

For the first time, I'm going to make this review spoiler free! I think this is a perfect opportunity to get you to watch the movie if you haven't already. I'm still going to attach stills throughout the review like I normally do, but in this case, the stills shouldn't be huge spoilers (especially if you have seen the trailer).

I'll start a bit negative because let's face it, this movie is an obvious cash grab. It primarily feeds off of the nostalgia of older generations while also appealing to younger generations who enjoy Super Mario games. Because of this, there's not a lot of substance to the movie. Unlike other critics, however, I don't believe that makes this movie bad. I went into the theater with little expectations other than "the references should be there."

I was pleasantly surprised by the flow of the movie. Not one part felt like it was slowing down. I liked how animated and exaggerated the movements were. It's very fast paced and for Super Mario, that's perfect. I was surprised to find out how deep the references went. Like that rival plumber (Foreman Spike) does actually exist in the Super Mario lore. It was fun to learn a little bit about the references I didn't know about. I do wish they gave Charles Martinet a bigger role than just a cameo.

I had my concerns about Chris Pratt being cast as Mario, and I hate to admit it, but he was right when he said no one is gonna care about the accent. It's explained pretty well early on in the movie too. An exaggerated Italian accent for a commercial for their plumbing brand? Makes sense. I still don't like Chris Pratt as Mario, but that's just because I don't like him in general. I will note that my bias against him does not affect the rating would've been docked a whole point if it did. He plays the role well, but it's forgettable compared to the rest of the star-studded cast.

Jack Black as Bowser was PERFECT!! His personality fit the character they were trying to go for with Bowser. Same with Charlie Day as Luigi. We all know that meme. The conspiracy theorist Charlie Day meme. Need I say more? Also Seth Rogan?? As Donkey Kong??? That laugh solidified the casting for me. Anya Taylor Joy works as Peach. It would be wrong for me to say it was the perfect casting, but she does make it work. Overall, great performances by the actors.

Illumination should be proud of the animation. They were able to maintain integrity of the games' original designs while sticking to their signature style. It's hard to pull that off and have overwhelming praise. I particularly liked how bouncy (for the lack of a better word) everything was. It really was enjoyable. Going back to the "cash grab" complaint I had, I do respect them for it. It's smart to market the movie for kids while building on the nostalgia of the adults who grew up on the games. I see you Nintendo and Illumination marketing teams. Geniuses all of you. The best part about it is that it wasn't that weird mesh of animation and live action. It was all animated and all wonderful.

Overall, I definitely think this movie is worth the hype it's getting. You could tell everyone involved was just having fun, and that's where you find the best projects. The movie doesn't take itself too seriously, and it's even more amazing when the cast has fun in that project (and the premieres - shoutout Anya Taylor Joy and Jack Black for those wonderful outfits). All in all, if you haven't watched it yet, go! Watch with friends, family, or even alone! If you have watched it already, watch again if/when the movie hits streaming sites with others. I feel like it's a nice comfort movie, and we haven't had one like this in ages.

[indigo474]

31524

I feel like I have to pack my whole life into 2 days. the weekend. I have so much I want to do. I could possible try and stay up later and longer to get more things done. OR manage my time better. I've had time to think about Saturday with Marci and i'm disappointed. I think, she thought I was purposely 40 minutes late. We did talk about timing and I did say I thought the original time was too early so we worked out a time that worked for both of us. If I had a problem with the time I would have told her- which I already did.. I wouldn't do something like that on purpose. It would have been a lot nicer if she showed concern- she knows I am always on time. It makes me think about how I react or would react. just because I can understand why someone reacted the way they did doesn't make it right.. what I wanted to say when she started bitching at me was I am trying my best- because I am and I was and I had a challenging week.. The whole not drinking thing was kind of weird. I really shouldn't have to defend myself. My life my choices. I found a book on peri menopause and it turns out I am doing just about everything right. My mom called me the other night- shes been calling- its nice when she calls because that means shes in a good mood and wants to talk.. if I call her she'll take the call even if she doesn't want to talk which never ends well. She's says something to me about menopause and how it lasted 10 years for her.. she was also a raging alcoholic, a smoker,didnt eat right or exercise.. I'm hoping to not have the same experience as her.. Ive been reading a book and it turns out I am pretty much doing everything right.. I can control a lot- what I eat, exercise, sleep, stress- to a certain degree. I cant control the chemicals in my brain and that terrifies me. I have to make an appointment with my doctor..

I'm super excited for my trip to England this Summer.. We may take the train to Paris.. Oh my.. it seems far away and a dream at this time. I am nervous to do it. It's not like I can just come home if I need to. I'm not going to worry or stress-- not about this trip anyway. -

I lifted this week and got to see Kika 2 days in a row.. she is wonderful and truly the highlight of my week. I did upper and lower- upper - push pull- nothing spectacular . My arms were sore for days afterwards- i'm up to 10 push ups a day. I dead lifted 195x5x2 and 220x5x1. I love it when he asks me who it feels- it feels very heavy- very heavy. Could there be any other answer? He likes to try and make fun of me about menopause- i'm guessing a lot of women that see him are going through it. I told him all about my bad week and what I've read and so on- he suggested I start micro dosing mushrooms-i think i'm going to give it a try. A dose so low you don't actually feel it-

[cornehoward-blog-blog-blog]

Chapter 7

The Hunt in the Ancient Woods

As dawn's first light seeped through the ancient ruins, Isolde stirred awake, finding herself nestled beside Isabella. In that serene moment, she relished the warmth of their closeness, a sense of belonging washing over her. Feeling the gentle rise and fall of Isabella's breath, Isolde basked in the comfort of loving and being loved in return. Compared to the turmoil of the previous day, this moment felt like a soothing balm to her spirit as she snuggled closer to Isabella.

"As Isabella gradually stirred from her slumber, the comforting warmth of Isolde's body greeted her senses. She felt the gentle caress of Isolde's voice whispering, 'Good morning, my love."

The two shared a tender kiss, and Isabella gently replied "You seem more at ease today." Isolde smiled softly and replied, 'Yes, I do feel better, especially because of you, my dear paladin.

"'How about we get out of bed?' Isabella giggled. "Do we have to?" Isolde responded with a sulking look. "We need to do something" Isabella replied jokingly. "I know of a few things we can do." Laughed Isolde.

"'We used the last of our food last night" Isabella said. 'We'll have to go hunting and gather up some supplies from the woods.'

The thought of going hunting excited her; hunting and living off the land was natural to Isolde and seemed like fun after all they had experienced.

Isolde sprang up and got dressed, while Isabella watched, delighted at the thought of a normal day. Isolde was a master hunter and tracker, sharing details with Isabella about what they might find. Seeing Isolde so enthusiastic again filled Isabella with joy.

Isabella and Isolde collected their belongings and departed from the ruins, descending the weathered steps. They entered the ancient grove of trees that lay beyond the old structure, disappearing into the woods behind it.

While journeying through the forest, they stumbled upon various wild edibles—mushrooms, nuts, and other harvestable foods. Isolde gleefully gathered each discovery, finding solace in these familiar tasks, reminiscent of the normalcy she once knew.

Isolde discussed everything they could find in the forest. Isabella was pleased to see Isolde returning to herself. Isolde inquired about Isabella's knowledge of living off the land. Isabella replied that her family were vassals to a local lord outside the city, living as farmers.

Isolde suddenly stopped and pointed ahead. 'Wild boar tracks!' she exclaimed with joy in her voice. 'Looks like a big male too.' Isabella's concern showed in her voice, 'Isn't hunting a big boar dangerous?'"

"Yes!" exclaimed Isolde, her eyes sparkling and a smile lighting up her face. Isabella's concern was evident as she responded, "Shouldn't we go after something smaller and less dangerous?" Annoyance tinged Isolde's voice as she persisted, "Come on, please," wearing a sulking expression.

"I've heard of experienced hunters getting gored by boars, some even killed. I've tended to hunter's injuries at the convent before!" said Isabella, her tone edged with annoyance.

"Yes, gored! This one has big tusks," Isolde said, ignoring everything else Isabella had warned about the dangers of going after such a beast.

"Fine!" Isabella retorted angrily. "But if you get me killed, I'll haunt you forever."

"It'll be okay. We've despacked my target when we met," Isolde responded confidently.

"That was different! He was a man, not a wild beast!" Isabella snapped, recalling their encounter with the man they fought during their first meeting.

"Man, boar, it's all the same," Isolde laughed. "Let's leave everything unnecessary here and come back once we've caught him."

Isabella was quite annoyed but followed Isolde's instructions.

The two followed the boar's tracks, Isolde keenly narrating the boar's trail while Isabella occasionally responded with a mix of apprehension and annoyance towards the situation.

Isolde suddenly halted and whispered, "He's close." They quietly strategized on how to bring the boar down. Isabella was designated as the distraction to draw it's attention while Isolde would handle the attack. Isabella wasn't thrilled with the risky plan but complied, unsheathing her sword and preparing for the rather absurd strategy.

Isabella advanced with her sword drawn, while Isolde stealthily faded into the shadows. As planned, Isabella taunted the boar, goading it into a furious charge. Thoughts of potential instant death raced through Isabella's mind as the beast thundered toward her. In a swift motion, Isolde swiftly dispatched the boar, ending the encounter.

Isabella remained frozen in shock, her heart racing from the sudden turn of events. Stunned by the speed of the encounter, she stood rooted to the spot. Isolde let out a victorious cry, exclaiming, "We got him!"

"Insane is one word for this hunt!" Isabella exclaimed in a mix of relief and disbelief. Letting out a sigh, she walked over to Isolde, who was busy pulling out her daggers and throwing knives. Together, they observed the enormous boar they had just brought down.

Isolde gazed at Isabella and declared, "Tonight, my love, we feast like kings! Look at this magnificent beast!" Meanwhile, Isabella contemplated the abundant meat they would gain from the boar.

Isabella and Isolde got to work swiftly, skillfully butchering the boar. They divided the meat into portions and began preparing the boar for transport. After gathering what they needed and tying the portions together with ropes, they made their way back to the ruins, laughing and talking as they went, their spirits lifted by their successful hunt.

At the ruins, they began preparing some of the meat for their supper. They incorporated gathered wild herbs to enrich their feast for two. Isolde also commenced the process of smoking and drying the pork to preserve it for future use.

As the evening descended, Isolde and Isabella sat by the crackling fire, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. The aroma of roasting meat filled the air, intermingling with the earthy scent of the wild herbs they had gathered earlier. Isabella chuckled as she watched Isolde skillfully tend to the smoking meat.

"This is quite a change from our recent adventures," Isabella remarked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Isolde grinned, wiping her hands on a cloth before responding, "Aye, it is. But I have to admit, there's a sense of satisfaction in this. It's... peaceful."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, relishing the calm surroundings of the ancient ruins. The night sky unveiled itself, adorned with twinkling stars above. Isabella leaned back against a moss-covered stone, gazing upward.

"Look at the stars, Isolde. So many of them," Isabella marveled.

Isolde joined her, gazing at the glittering sky. "Aye, and each one with its own story," she said wistfully.

In the tranquility of the night, surrounded by the remnants of the past, Isolde and Isabella found solace in the simplicity of their current moment. The crackling fire, the savory scent of cooking meat, and the glittering stars above provided a sense of peace amidst their journey.

As the fire simmered down to embers, Isolde and Isabella gathered around a makeshift table fashioned from a piece of fallen timber. They gazed at the spread before them: succulent pieces of smoked and roasted boar, seasoned with the wild herbs they had collected, accompanied by a few roots they had dug up earlier.

Isabella's eyes sparkled with appreciation. "It looks amazing, Isolde. You've truly outdone yourself."

Isolde grinned, taking a seat across from Isabella. "We make a good team, don't we?"

They dug into the meal, savoring each flavorful bite. The meat was tender, carrying the hints of the herbs that Isolde had expertly blended. A comfortable silence enveloped them as they ate, the crackling of the fire providing a serene backdrop to their meal.

Between mouthfuls, Isabella broke the silence. "This feels oddly peaceful, doesn't it?"

Isolde nodded, chewing thoughtfully. "Aye, it does. It's a rare moment of calm in the chaos we've been through."

They continued to dine, relishing not just the flavors of the meal but also the sense of camaraderie and companionship they found in each other's company. The night stretched on, the stars above witnessing the simple yet profound bond between Isolde and Isabella amidst the ruins of the ancient world.

As they tidied up the remnants of their meal, Isabella broached a daring idea. "What if we stayed here and built a cabin in the woods, living like this?"

Isolde hesitated, her gaze fixed on Isabella. "But what about the mission? Your priestess sent us..."

"After our conversation with that goddess, I don't trust the order or the Eight anymore," Isabella interjected, surprising Isolde with her declaration.

"Living like this does sound appealing," Isolde mused, contemplating the proposition. "But won't the order come looking for you?"

"The Order and their teachings can go to the abyss!" Isabella exclaimed. "I tossed my prayer beads into the fire last night," she confessed, her resolve firm.

Isolde was taken aback but found herself intrigued by the notion of creating a genuine life with Isabella in such a serene setting.

"Tomorrow, let's explore the woods and see if there's a spot for our home," Isolde suggested, her excitement evident in her voice.

The two went to bed that night, Isolde envisioning the prospect of building a home, while Isabella pondered the consequences of defying the Order.

The next morning, Isabella was tidying up the camp and preparing for the day ahead when Isolde woke up. "Isabella, you're packing up. I thought you wanted to live in the forest with me?" Isabella glanced down, her voice carrying a hint of concern, "I've been thinking about the danger we'd face if I abandoned my duties. And what about your reward? Without completing the task, you won't receive it."

"Looks like we'll need to spend a few days here to let the pork dry out," Isolde mentioned, glancing at the remaining meat. Isabella replied with a wistful smile.

"Look at these tusks," Isolde said to Isabella, examining them closely. "I want to use them as handles for two knives—one for me and one for you. They would be a token of this adventure and this place."

"Yes, the day you almost got me killed by a boar. I wouldn't forget that if I tried," chuckled Isabella. "Come on, my brave warrior. You faced a wild beast, sword in hand," Isolde said with a dramatic tone.

Isolde proposed another woodland exploration, and Isabella readily agreed. The pair ventured back into the woods once more.

Isolde led Isabella back to the spot where they encountered the massive boar. The sunlight danced through the leaves, casting a golden hue over the clearing. Isolde, with a twinkle in her eye, took out one of her many knives and began carving into the bark of an ancient tree.

Isabella watched curiously as Isolde meticulously carved the words, "Here Isabella faced a giant boar."

"What's that for?" Isabella asked, intrigued by the sudden activity.

"Just a little mark to remember our adventurous day," Isolde replied with a grin, etching the last letters into the tree's rough surface.

Isabella chuckled, appreciating the sentiment behind the gesture. "You always find a way to make everything memorable," she remarked, smiling at Isolde's determination to immortalize their experiences.

As Isolde finished carving, the words stood out boldly against the bark. They both stepped back, admiring the simple but meaningful inscription. It was a token of their shared triumph and a reminder of the bond they shared on this extraordinary journey.

As they explored further, they stumbled upon a small stream weaving through the forest. Isolde promptly removed her garments and dashed toward the stream.

Isabella laughed as she chased after the streaking elf. "Looks like you've found a stream," she said when she caught up with Isolde. "Yes, the water feels wonderful," Isolde replied. As Isabella filled their water skins and splashed water on her face, she teased, "I have a feeling your habit of dashing into bodies of water might become a recurring theme on our journey." She glanced at Isolde, noticing the sheer delight on her face at being in the water.

"Don't you want to come in the water is delightful" said Isolde

Isabella hesitated for a moment, observing Isolde's sheer joy in the water. With a reluctant smile, she decided to join her. "Alright, but just for a moment," Isabella said as she slowly stepped into the cool, refreshing stream. The water was invigorating, and Isabella felt the day's stress melt away as she splashed water on her face, laughing as Isolde playfully dunked herself nearby. For a brief moment, she forgot the weight of their mission and just enjoyed the simple pleasure of the water against her skin.

After a while of relishing the water, Isabella suggested they should return to check on the boar meat and their belongings. Reluctantly, Isolde agreed.

As the two approached the stairs leading up to the ancient structure, Isolde felt a strange sensation urging her to glance along the weathered stones lining the sides of the stairs. Dismissing the feeling, she continued conversing with Isabella, discussing various topics without any specific direction, merely relishing the joy of having someone to talk to. However, the persistent sensation of something lurking nearby lingered in her mind, prompting her to resolve to inspect the retaining wall and stairs more closely later.

Isolde and Isabella checked on the boar meat drying nearby. Isolde surveyed the pork, mentioning to Isabella that it would need a few more days to complete the drying process. As dusk settled, the couple resumed their evening routine.

As bedtime approached, Isolde forgot about the peculiar wall and her prior inspection. Together, Isolde and Isabella retired for the night.

As the night wore on, Isolde lay peacefully asleep beside Isabella. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, a powerful urge seizing her. Without disturbing Isabella, Isolde quietly slipped out of bed, moving stealthily towards the peculiar wall she had noticed earlier. Her steps were cautious, ensuring she didn't disturb the tranquility of the night.

Isolde's fingers traced the ancient stones, their rough surface feeling oddly familiar. Amidst the uniformity, one stone stood out, although it appeared identical to the rest. She felt a strange urge to free it, an impulse that seemed to emanate from the very stone itself.

Attempting to dislodge it with her bare hands proved futile; the stone was firmly embedded in the ancient mortar. Realizing she needed a tool, Isolde hurried back to retrieve her weapons, her determination unwavering as she intended to liberate the peculiar stone from its age-old perch.

She traced the contours of the stone with her dagger, meticulously chipping away at the surrounding mortar until it finally relented. As she turned over the liberated stone, expecting a revelation, she found nothing of particular note.

Though disheartened by the stone's mundane appearance, Isolde's determination remained unwavering. Her mind raced with questions about the rock's hidden contents, yet she persisted, relentless in her efforts to reveal what lay concealed within the unremarkable surface.

As Isolde continued working on the stone, she chipped away at the surface, treating it as if she were liberating a precious gemstone. During this meticulous process, she noticed a faint glow emanating from within and paused to clear the stone flakes from the rock.

As time passed, Isolde painstakingly chiseled into the stone, her movements cautious to preserve whatever lay encased within. The first light of dawn began to filter in as she worked diligently on the stone.

Isabella stirred from her sleep at the gentle clinking of metal against stone. Realizing Isolde wasn't beside her, she rose and followed the sound of chiseling in the dim, early morning light.

"Looking for something?" asked Isabella as she found Isolde working. "In the rock," Isolde responded, engrossed in her task, her knives scattered around the stone. She carved carefully, using a small stone as a hammer.

Isabella descended the stairs, intrigued by what Isolde was doing. She observed the stone and noticed the faint glow emanating from the area where Isolde was working.

"What is that?" inquired Isabella, prompting a momentary pause. "I'm not sure," replied Isolde as she continued her meticulous work.

With one more tap, Isolde freed a small, perfect orb. She looked at it, transfixed by the glow emanating from it. The stone pulsed with light, as though it were alive. Isabella bent down, similarly transfixed by the small object. 'It's beautiful,' said Isabella.

Isolde carefully handed the pulsing orb to Isabella, who accepted it with cautious fascination. "I think there's something more in there," Isolde mentioned, her attention returning swiftly to the stone. With intense focus, she resumed her intricate work, chipping away at the ancient stone, searching for whatever lay hidden within. Isabella held the orb gingerly, the glow mesmerizing as she watched Isolde's determined efforts.

"As Isabella stared into the small, perfectly round object in her palm, the glow seemed almost liquid, moving around within the gem. Isolde continued her work and eventually liberated two more spheres from the stone.

"What are they?" Isabella asked.

"I don't have an idea, but somehow they seem familiar, like something I saw in a forgotten dream." Isolde replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty."

As the morning light intensified, revealing Isolde's night-long endeavor, Isabella's attention drifted from the sphere resting in her palm. Observing Isolde's knives, she remarked on their blunt appearance. Isolde, still transfixed by the two orbs, mentioned that she intended to sharpen and reforge them once they reached the next town.

"Isolde, do you know blacksmithing?" Isabella inquired.

"Yes," Isolde responded, looking away from the spheres. "I made all these myself," she said, motioning to her throwing knives and dual daggers...

"That's an impressive skill set you have," said Isabella. "Not only are you a skilled hunter and assassin, but you are a sorceress and blacksmith."

"I guess I know a few things," replied Isolde, looking at her scattered knives.

Isolde got up to collect her blunted and chipped knives and daggers, feeling annoyed at herself for damaging the tools of her trade. As she gathered every piece of iron and steel, she contemplated the process she'd have to undergo to fix them all. She laid them all next to the orbs.

As she inspected and mentally planned the construction of new equipment, a magical arc of light emanated from one of the orbs, lifting the broken implements into the air. It started reworking the blades precisely as Isolde had envisioned while she gathered up her damaged weapons. Isabella and Isolde stood astonished, watching this strange arcane spectacle unfold before them.

"What is happening?" Isabella whispered, her eyes fixed on the magical forge work unfolding before them. "I was just thinking through the process of fixing my blades, and there it is, happening just as I planned it out in my mind," Isolde responded in a similarly hushed voice.

When the magical work was done, the now fixed blades moved down and settled next to the orb. Its work now done, the sphere returned to its normal glow, resting after its work was finished. Both Isolde and Isabella witnessed this phenomenon unfold right before their eyes.

Isolde approached the blades, meticulously examining each one, now impeccably crafted and razor-sharp. "Thank you," she murmured, seemingly lost in thought.

As Isolde inspected her damaged blades, Isabella stood by, watching the scattered stone with a furrowed brow. She glanced at the orb resting in her palm and thought about the chaotic mess that lay before them, wishing it could be cleaned up.

To their astonishment, a shimmer of light flickered from the orb in Isabella's hand. Almost immediately, the shards of stone and debris began to move on their own, gathering together into neat piles, as if responding to her silent desire for order. The once-scattered debris reformed into the previously unbroken stone, and slotted it back into the wall it was taken from.

Isabella looked at the now-pristine wall, amazed by the mysterious power the orb possessed. She turned to Isolde, who was equally astonished by the orb's abilities. They exchanged silent glances filled with wonder, trying to comprehend the unfathomable capabilities of these ancient artifacts.

[simiansmoke]

@koopzilla cont

He'd taken the banana in one hand, wondering if he should be concerned about the warmth pulsing in it before he would squeeze it out of its shell and probably swallow it whole. It was the only thing he looked forward to in a future that would include Bowser making wishes that made everyone's lives miserable. All because of him...

A sigh escaped him at the other's request, and for a moment he was prepared to be warped away from the dark temple and into the bright sunny lands of the Mushroom Kingdom. The stall shouldn't have alarmed him, but Bowser was far too loud and enraged for his own good. Peeking over the other's shoulder at the crystal, he stared wide-eyed as it smashed itself into dust at the repeated requests. Well...that wasn't good. On a few levels of fucked.

"Wha...you broke it?" The temple didn't like that. Not one bit. It felt like an earthquake was rolling through and they'd be buried because of it. Tapping Bowser on his shoulder urgently, DK tried to snap him out of his stupor. "H-hey! We gotta go, the place is-" He'd say collapsing if his lungs weren't currently doing just that thanks to the way Bowser manhandled him out in front of him like some unwanted pest he was getting ready to fling into the darkness of the pits below the temple.

"ArGHh, stop!" He reasoned as best he could, though it mostly sounded like yelling and kicking his feet in the air as he dangled. The roar heats his face with moldy breath and spittle, but he take the chance to open one eye afterwards to regard the other's seething.

"I...I don't know! Dude, I told you- I don't know anything about the damn coconut!" Squeezing the other's wrist for insurance in case he tried to fling him, DK noticed the heat in his other hand was getting steadily warmer and he flicked his eyes down to the banana still clutched in his grip. For some reason it seemed to be glowing brighter now...almost like there was something hiding under its external shell that gave off light. Wait...could it be? Well he couldn't check right now, and he wouldn't be able to later with the rate the rocks were falling to crush them.

"It's- it's-....WATCH OUT!" He yelped as a large group of rocks hurdled towards them. Squeezing the banana tight and his eyes tighter, he didn't notice the fruit erupt into light and form a shield around the pair of them on which the rocks bounced off. Its a few more minutes of this before they're standing in the midst of a broken landscape and the starlight fresh above their head. Back on the island.

[loserrking]

Unsent Letters

CC!Wilbur soot x reader

Summary : Wilbur reads the letters (Name) made that they never sent

A/N : Holy souls those are alot of trigger warnings. @blooming-mushroom its done :] No pronouns used, I think?... This is my first time writing angst so pls don't be harsh when giving criticism :]

TW : Death | Implied Suicide | Reader is Implied to have schizophrenia | mentions of hearing voices | mentions of hallucinations | panic attacks(?) | Car crash | one curse word, I think? | (Pls inform me if there are any more I should add)

For the eighteenth time this week, he entered the once bright and joyful home of his partner, now it was dull and no longer full of color....it was empty- something that may seem fine in the eyes of an outsider, maybe perhaps the resident was out for a walk or maybe they were at the market, no- the reason is neither of those things because (Name) was gone...

Wilbur kept a nonchalant face as he drifted into a room... He has spent so much time crying that he felt numb.

Bloodshot eyes gazed around the room, he knew the area very well as he had visited it many times before... The brunette contemplated looking through your stuff. You hated it when people touched your stuff but a particular shoe box under the dresser caught his eye, was that there before? Doesn't matter... He really shouldn't touch it, you'd be extremely upset if he did... But it was labeled "To my dear Wilbur" so it was probably okay for him to look through it right....? Right.

The tall man took the box into his hands and sat beside the dresser on the floor with his back against the wall. He wasn't that surprised to see a bunch of letters in the box, he was slightly confused on why he never received any letters from you despite the stacked pile of parchment in the shoe box,but he just assumed you never sent them. he took the one on the top and started reading.

Dear Wilbur,

How was your day? Mine wasn't that great, some idiot at work spilled hot chocolate on my WHITE shirt and she didn't even apologize! And you know that poem I was working on? I accidentally deleted it :( I decided to take the bus to go home and I sat next to this mother who's child would not shut up, I kept stubbing my toe when I got home and then when I was gonna take a nice hot shower, I twisted the tap the wrong way and was hit with water colder than the winter. I went to play bedwars and lost 4 times so I decided to just go on our private world and build something but my mind was blank and anything I decided to build ended like shiz.... I had a horrible day but talking to you made it better <3

P.S I probably won't send this to you...

Yours truly,

The Amazing (Name)

Wilbur couldn't stop the grin forming on his face, and even for a moment, he forgot about your death... He sighed "I wish you were still here..." He couldn't recognize his own voice, probably from not using it much.

He read more,some were cute,some were funny, but as he kept on reading, he noticed that the letters were getting shorter and started getting more concerning sentences and phrases in them

Dear Wilbur,

Can we could go ice skating again sometime? I had a lot of fun, infact, I had so much fun with you that you made me forget the world was a horrible place...how did you do that?

Sincerely,

Your partner, (Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I really wanna send these letters to you, but they keep telling me not to, I'm scared of what'll happen if I disobey, the last time I did, something bad happened . Maybe one day you'll be able to read these :(

Kind Regards,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

The sun and clouds were frowning at me today, I'm getting tired of these hallucinations, they make me feel like I did something wrong! But anyways, I missed you, lets go to that cat cafe I told you about :)

Sincerely,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry I snapped at you today, I was in a bad mood and the voices were louder than usual. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow

Best Regards,

(Name)

Wilbur's face contorted into one of confusion and concern. He knew you were mentally ill but he didn't recall you saying anything about hearing voices or having hallucinations. You never really told him much about your mental illness, maybe he should've been more persistent in asking what it was.

Did this tie into your death? Could this have played a part in it? It's been weeks after it happened and the police officers still couldn't decipher how you died and Wilbur was determined to find out, he frantically kept going through more of the letters, reading it in a fast pace. He skimmed through every one of them until he reached the last two letters.....

Dear Wilbur,

Sometimes I feel like I'm just bringing you down, and I'm sorry.... Maybe I should just disappear

Yours truly,

(Name)

Dear Wilbur,

I'm sorry, I can't keep our promise. It's all too much for me, goodbye Wil

Sincerely,

(Name)

The brunette knew what this meant, but he didn't wanna believe it.... Everything slowly started to make more sense, he should've been there for you, he should've noticed, how had he not noticed you were in pain? Was he that terrible of a boyfriend? God, it made him sick to the stomach just thinking about how you were silently screaming for help and yet he just stood there and did nothing.

His breathing pattern was uneven and soon his whimpers turned into sobs. He put a hand over his mouth, desperately trying to muffle his cries as tears streamed down his face. He wanted to scream, he wanted to yell and blame everyone for not trying to help you, he wanted to be able to hug you again, to be able to tell you a million times how much he loved you... But he can't, so he sat on the floor, trying to calm himself. He missed you, he missed you so much. It wasn't fair... The tears didn't stop, nor did the whimpers... If he had been there to comfort you, would you still be here? Would you still be alive if he or anyone tried to save you? Answer was... Yeah, probably....

Wilbur cried himself to sleep that night, he didn't even go home, he didn't have the strength to.... So he just laid there for a few hours until he eventually decided to drive home

The drive was quiet and the road was empty, at some point, Wilbur ended up zoning out, reminiscing about the times you shared together, the way you would smile and how you would stutter when he said a flirty comment, and how it just felt right being in your arms. He knew he was crying again, but this time he didn't bother to wipe it away.... He remembers how you would–

*BEEEP*

The startling sound rung through Wilbur's ears, it made the man turn the steering wheel wich caused his vehicle to swerve right into a tree

"shit..."