#deciding embers

[env0writes]

Deciding Embers Vol.4, 12.15.23 “Mutual Fund"

Loving you as one might to the bank I have given you a precious many things And when the going gets Shall I withdraw affections When all interest ceases to compound As I am allowed You have been a place a safety, No longer– Shall I entrust my futures, my homes Beneath my much lovéd mattress Whereupon some other teller sings Great offers of interest pinched Grown inch by inch With the long years To keep all things of this world And many a few not of it Within your embrace

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artist!   Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

[catsharky]

Yeah I was right and there was no way I was getting the rest of this done without making you all wait another month or two, so I just went to the next good break point. We're officially past the halfway point with Astarion though, so not too much longer before you actually get to see Rolan again!

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[nelkcats]

Ember's Music Emporium

When he became King, Danny had not banned the ghosts from earth but asked them to be discreet, so instead of giving concerts that were extremely flashy, Ember decided to open a music store.

It was complicated to find a good location since she wanted to go far away from Amity, but she was aware that not all cities would accept strangers and it could be dangerous for her if they found out she was a ghost.

Money was not so difficult, Ember had collected several things during her unofficial concerts, among them: cash (besides, Danny was willing to sponsor her if that wasn't enough), and musical instruments were even easier to find as Skulker loved to build them and wanted to help her.

In the end, her little music store set up in Gotham (rusty laws, natural ecto, crazies everywhere and lots of people who looked extremely colorful, she assumed they would take her as one).

She and Skulker worked very hard at turning the dusty place they bought into something nice where everyone was welcome; they also made it a sort of temporary home, seeing as they couldn't go to the Infinite Realms every day.

And everything was a success until someone tried to attack their little business; naturally the ghosts protected it and very soon, a rare scarecrow was hit by one of Skulker's bombs.

It didn't cause much damage but it definitely drew attention. Many tried to attack after this and they kept responding (Skulker much more excited than she was about the whole thing).

But Ember was determined to not call Danny, she was sure they would get scolded about attacking people and not going unnoticed as they promised (although the rude people attacked them first and none of them were dead, or Danny would have come).

When some weird guys in bat costumes started trying to sneak into her humble music store (and they didn't even bother to pretend to be customers like the nice guy in the red helmet), she decided that maybe it was time to call the halfa. Things had gotten a little out of hand.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Autumn Embers Verse

Omegaverse AU where people who are compatible have complementary scents.

Your friends assure you that the bar they’re dragging you to is nicer than it looks online. You highly doubt that, but you’re willing to go along until the three of them get bored and decide to get a car to the club district. And they will get bored, because you recognize the name and address that they’re trying to go to. You’ve never been, but some of your new coworkers on the base have invited you out for drinks and pool.

When Christie flounces out in a bright pink mini-dress, you can’t help but grin. “You look great. Super cute. But I don’t think that’s the vibe of the bar.”

Admittedly, you’re dressed a bit less conservatively than the bar might call for. But you feel cute in your black skater skirt and white top. Styled with floral lace stockings, boots, and silver jewelry, it’s more dressing up than you’ve been able to do in the last 6 months.

“I’m not dressing for the military bar,” Christie says, checking her makeup in the hall mirror before dropping on the couch next to you. She tosses her brown hair over one shoulder and pulls out her phone to order a car. “I’m dressing for when Mel and Jack decide they’re done shopping for alphas and want to go to the club.”

“Military packs are already cohesive,” Jack sniffs, emerging from the hall in cute jeans, a mesh top, and a sensible jacket. Behind him, Mel is dressed very similarly, though they’ve opted for cargo pants. “It’s not impossible that we might find a couple of someones who might be interesting.”

“If nothing else, they’ll buy you drinks,” you concede. “Pretty sure they have pool tables. If there’s one open, maybe we play a couple of rounds. Give Jack a chance to bend over and show off.”

The car, when it arrives, is a little small, but the four of you pile in gamely. You sit in the front, since your hips need the room. The driver gives a smile and a nod through his cloth mask and starts driving as soon as your seatbelt is secure. You reflexively drop the window a bit, though it’s already open. It makes sense - driving groups around all night definitely lends itself to a lot of conflicting scents.

In the back, Chrissy’s floral omega scent plays well with Jack and Mel’s sweet beta and omega mix. The very subtle floral notes of your own scent don’t clash too badly, but the base note of charcoal does sometimes leave people’s noses a bit confused. You catch the moment the driver catches a hint of your scent and darts a look at you, but he doesn’t say anything. You occupy yourself on your phone for the fifteen minute drive, tuning out Chrissie and Jack’s complaints about work.

When you arrive, the bar is just about what you expected. Run-down in a lived-in kind of way but clean. Dim and quiet. The exact opposite of Jack and Chrissie, but that doesn’t stop them from swanning in through the doors and making their way immediately to the bar. You and Mel follow behind. You make eye contact with a couple of people you kind of recognize, give a quirk of a smile as a greeting.

By the time you’ve decided what to drink, Chrissie and Jack have already charmed a trio of alphas into conversation and a promised game of pool. Mel leans into Jack’s back and introduces themself in their quiet way. You give your name with a wave before ordering a whiskey sour.

“Put their drinks on our tab,” one of the alphas says. He holds his hand out to you to shake. “Daniels. I’ve seen you on base before, yeah?”

“I’ve been working admin for a couple of months,” you confirm as you shake his hand. He’s polite enough not to try to rub wrists on a first meeting, at least. His scent reminds you of the bakery near your house. “It’s not a bad job.”

Once everyone has their drinks and the group makes their way over to one of the open pool tables, you think you could have a pretty good night. Daniels and his friends, Bennet and Bakshi, are actually pretty fun. They’re obviously flirting with Chrissie and Jack (and Mel, by extension), but they’re not ignoring you. Daniels and Bakshi, at least, include you in the conversation and ask questions about your job, how you all know each other, where you’re from.

When Bakshi manages to pull Mel into a conversation about video games and cyber security, you and Chrissie excuse yourselves to the restroom.

“I should have worn jeans,” she sighs. “This is really fun, but kind of a waste of an outfit.”

You’re about to laugh when you pass by a table and make eye contact with a man you’ve only seen in passing before. You recognize Sergent MacTavish by his mohawk, and give him a little half smile. Then you notice Captain Price and Sergent Garrick. The blond in a skull themed cloth mask can only be Lieutenant Riley. You give all four of them a startled little nod of acknowledgment, and then Chrissie is tugging you into the bathroom.

You’ve never met anyone from Task Force 141 before. Any time you’ve heard of them, at least two have been sent off somewhere across the world. You don’t have the clearance to deal with any of their reports, but you know enough to understand that they’re practically rock stars.

“Five quid, Jack and Mel have all three of their numbers by the end of the night,” Chrissie interrupts your musing as she checks her makeup in the mirror. As usual, she’s perfect, and you hear her take a selfie.

“Ten quid, Bennet asks for yours,” you counter from the stall.

“No bet, he’s already asked.” Chrissie answers. “But he’s a tool.”

“You like tools.”

“That’s true. It’s the muscles.” she agrees. “If he asks me on a proper date, I won’t say no.”

“Not a waste of a dress, then,” you point out before flushing and making your way to wash your hands. “Is he wearing scent blockers? I can’t get a bead on him.”

“He’s a subtle bit of tobacco leaf. Bakshi is nutmeg and Daniels-”

“Daniels smells like fresh bread,” you finish.

“Oh, ho, ho,” Chrissie chuckles, leaning her hip on the counter as you wash your hands. “Took notice did you?”

“We shook hands.” You roll your eyes. “Kind of hard not to notice.” When you step out of the bathroom, you’re startled to see Sergent MacTavish leaning against the wall on his phone. His eyes snap up to yours and he stands up to his full height. He’s bigger than you expected, and you find yourself helpless to hold his stare. When he smiles, you feel yourself flush.

“Evenin’, bonnie lass,” he says, after a moment. “C’n I get a moment of your time?”

Chrissie practically skips the couple of steps away to stand at the entrance of the hall leading to the bathrooms. She doesn’t quite abandon you with a strange alpha, but she does turn her back and pull out her phone.

Before you can comment on her absence, or introduce yourself, or even think about what to say, MacTavish has stepped close. His scent, something warm and earthy and somehow also floral, floods your senses. At the same time, he leans down to hover his nose just short of touching your temple. You can’t help but blush harder at how bold he’s being. The way he takes your scent into his lungs is just this side of vulgar.

“So it has been you we’ve been scenting around base,” he chuckles, taking a deliberate step back and leaning back against the wall again. He crosses big arms across his chest and smiles. “Gaz’s been tying himself in knots trying to catch more than faded hints near the caf’.”

What are you supposed to say to that? “…Sorry? I’m new to the base.”

He grins. “Well, I’m glad you’re around. Sergent MacTavish.” He doesn’t offer his hand, but considering the how rude he was before, it’s not like he needs to.

You stammer an introduction and decide to make your retreat. “It was, um, nice to meet you, Sergent. I have to get back to my friends.” “Be seeing you around, hen,” he says, and doesn’t move as you make your retreat.

As soon as you’re clear of the hall, you make the mistake of looking that the 141’s table. All of their eyes snap to your face as soon as you’re visible. You almost freeze under their attention, but Chrissie rescues you. She takes your arm and practically marches you across the bar to rejoin Jack and Mel, who immediately pull you close to drag you into some debate about music.

You can’t contribute much to the conversation. Thank goodness for Chrissie, who gleefully carries the discussion. You’re too distracted to do much more than give vague agreements for a long time.

At the end of the night, when you and your friends leave the bar, you chance a glance toward the 141’s table. Four pairs of eyes stare back.

[aroaceleovaldez]

I never quite finished these two cards the first time i tried making a PJO major arcana and I never posted them. I really like the designs though so I’ll probably try to do something similar when I draft them again

[zkretchy]

Look, you gotta appreciate the timing I got for these kinda quests

[thepixarau]

Headcanon that Wade calls Ember “light of my life”

[reindeerswillsavethisworld]

Corpse au case fic where the trio decided to try cracking a murder mystery, except instead of angst it's a comedy of errors where they make everything worse.

Like. Danny comes out of a portal dead and translucent and glowing, and there's charred remains of a human body on the floor. So now all three of them are freaking out, and instead of asking for help, or finding an adult, or telling literally ANYONE, they decide to just. Get rid of the body. As one does.

So that's what they do: they break out Tucker's nice shovels (because god forbid Sam's family owned something as pheasant as a shovel, and Danny's too afraid of touching their family's Patented Fenton ShovelsTM for... reasons), they find a nice desolate clearing in the woods, and then they bury Danny's body like one would a very unfortunate hamster who met their demise too soon under very suspicious circumstances. They even stay at the new "grave" in silence for a minute or five in respect and DEFINITELY nothing else, you know. And so, they bury the body, and then they (try to) forget the experience as some horrific nightmare.

And then, a year later, there's an uproar: the Amity Park's police department found the child's remains in the woods! And you see, Amity Park is not THAT big of a town, and the police estimated that the body belonged to a 14-15 year old child, and, look, there's only so many schools in a small town, alright. Obviously, the rumours start very soon in Casper High: about how the kid could've gone to their school, about how they could've died, about whether or not anybody was missing them, about their identity, and some definitely-truthworthy-would-I-lie-to-you-bro-come-on sources insist that the kid was murdered around a year ago, around the time ghosts started showing up. And these rumours obviously reach the ears of Sam, Danny and Tucker.

Now, you would've thought that their first thought would be something like "oh no, they found Danny's body", or "oh no, they know", or even simply "we're sooo fucked". Except. You see, the night they buried the body? It was really cloudy. And dark. And, y'know, it's very easy to get lost in a forest. And they were too high-strung, you see, they completely forgot to leave some sort of a marker or anything. And also like, it was so long ago, you know? A lot have happened, they were sooo busy and the likes, you can't really blame them for forgetting some things.

And here's lies the problem: all three of them just fucking forgot that there was a body left to bury at all.

And then it gets out that the police can't even conduct any sort of DNA test because it became corrupted to the point of being absolutely unrecognisable due to exposure to a large amount of ecto-energy.

It's now looks like a bad set up for a joke: an identifiable body of a child, cause of death unknown; the probable involvement of ghosts or at the very least a very large quantity of ecto-energy; a probable murderer on the loose, which naturally breeds suspicion and speculation; a town full of all kinds of rumours; and a trio of absolute dumbasses, who after hearing that ghosts were involved immediately went to stick their noses where they don't belong.

Rejoice, Amity Park! Sam, Danny and Tucker are now on the case! Except they are all teenagers, and nobody in their right mind will allow teenagers to solve a murder case. Plus, them poking around would be highly suspicious, but Phantom, on the other hand?

(people seeing Phantom helping solve this case and coming to the conclusion that the ghosts were definitely involved was not on their bingo card, but oh well)

They don't go to the cops, obviously: Danny at least in part because he's worried they will call GIW on his ass or try to arrest him, and Sam and Tucker simply because fuck the cops (one because the police is involved in a militaristic, capitalistic corrupted system that breeds injustice and furthers the divide between average people and the wealthy, and the other because cops suck and will probably call GIW on his friend's ass). They also can't go to any other authorities: cops are out of the question, as is the mayor; laboratory personnel will most likely just throw them out; and there're no witnesses or known relatives, so they're stuck.

Therefore they decide that desperate times need desperate measures, and so they enlist all of their ghost allies on a quest, hoping to find the ghost of the kid. Considering the amount of ecto-energy they were subjected to, they MUST have formed a ghost, they only need to find them.

Except. The Ghost Zone is a big place, and they only have so many allies, even if some of them are a queen and a god. So Danny bites the bullet and does the most stupid (debatable) thing he has ever done: he goes to his enemies for help. They're surprisingly understanding and willing to help, even if some of their reasons are a little... strange (Skulker and Johnny entered some sort of competition on who finds the ghost first, Box Ghost starts to seek out coffins (??) and Youngblood is not above to start torturing people to finally have a friend that is not either an adult or a complete stick in the mud). And even then they still can't find the ghost.

In the end Danny goes to Clockwork in a desperate hope that he will be able to glimpse at least a little of what had transpired on the night of the murder, and to Danny's annoyance Clockwork laughs so hard he almost pops a ghost equivalent of a blood vessel.

A few weeks down the line Sam hesitantly brings up Danny's buried corpse ("MY WHAT" "Your corpse which we buried in the woods, Danny, don't you remember?" "Yeah, bro, I think you dissociated the whole time we were digging the hole and carrying your dead body" "WE DID WHAT-"), reasonably saying that, you know, they ALSO technically buried a body in the woods. On that Tucker just shrugs because obviously it was not Danny's body, the place of the burial was way off, he remembers that there was a really big stone to the left of the grave (he doesn't and there wasn't), so they are in the clear. During that exchange Danny's sitting on the floor and having a panic attack, because he really did dissociate the whole time and afterwards legitimately forgot that there was a body to bury at all.

After that conversation all three of them leave with a certainty that Danny's body is still there where they left it, whenever it was. And so the shenanigans continue.

[therottenkingsreckoning]

Felt a strange compulsion take me last night and created this. A horse, but with the body of a panther.

Also a version without the background

[literalite]

and i’ve come back changed i can feel it in my bones

[karvakera]

drawing gojo every day as stupid pet memes until THE shibuya incident: day 8

[env0writes]

Deciding Embers Vol.4, 12.31.23

“Are You A Kind Person”

Are you as kind as you remind, Others to be, as you’d like to see, In a sickening world quickening Towards fleeting packed offshore meeting Romance might be a flickering chance Held gestated as a butterfly stated Wish upon the star, oh fairy, fairly far

Wish well and goodbye, sweet blue butterfly How sweet the lies of love, so tender is its prize Guised in gossamer, gentle gossiper do not open your eyes Kindness is kinship, won with bread, beer, and casual quip Do you offset the hurt that you get When the world, oft uncaring once again hurled Troubles your way, did you bob or did you sway? Lost amongst bullies who act with disregarded ease Fare you well, against the hell Found in fire amongst fellow man, to tire

What choice will you take, as you wake Each mirthful morning beneath these puppet-strings Slow to snip, painful fuel from eyes drip Drop to the ground and towards the sky-form mound Liar, oh liar, the world is on fire Sing it so softly with words that are lofty Grieve with the weave of the world sift-sieved Believe if you will that the truth need not instill Harm upon hearer, upon listener inching nearer

How do you give deeds, that the world sorely needs As spars for a bridge, stones over the ridge? Make of yourself a brick, set in streets or towers that trick The world into ticking, tocking, clocking, world rocking March towards some end, how far such words can send A man to their grave, a child to save Are you as kind as you once brightly shined Glistening son, defy even the sun Obey thy father’s rules, grounded pretty fools Grow to such form, blood beating, red-warm

Why do you choose this, this act others miss? Kindness is foolish at best, a grievance to test Oh, maker, taker, liar, waker, faker A lie is easy said, do not to cold truth, yourself, be wed The gears spin on, grinding-greased to wide-mouth yawn Spread the sickness, so easily the world’s a rotten mess No rest nor sleep shall remedy this reason to weep Nor tears can make amends to rectify this haunting fear Approach in like, and kind; certain in your mind Reach out towards butterflies blue, as stars for wishes not yet true By your hand to make it so, even if the answer refuses to show Go and grow your body into home, so thoughts may no longer roam

Oh pupa, oh pupil of mine, what is this gaudy and hideous shrine? Cresting the world, from feelings unfurled As the sheets, of the story depletes Fallen to floorboards, striking resonant chords Creak and eke and squeak out a promised tweak Change this tune, and soon Find a crystal chrysalis of truth transformed not amiss Wish you may or might, tonight please say Upon these transformations, place desire for generations To come and too, wish, in thanks for this mission Saved by the will of good, granted freely as always we should Be kind, so that the when the world will rewind The world can with fondness, reflect upon this success

Not with sacrifice of who, not worth losing you To succumb, or grow numb To the ill, the weakened will Lift, if you can, this burden called man For the world I’ve left, is sorely bereft Thrift amongst the stones, rubble-ruined thrones From distant watered shores, to nearby chores Waiting for your kind heart, to once again start Beat-beat, beat-beat, what a sound so sweet Are you kind enough to live, chance upon change and give A choice to revel and rejoice Let your voice echo and fragile bright as butterfly’s color show Give yourself chance to remind, to be kind As you can be, and you will see Lie to me sweet and gentle, the morning comes incremental Give salve and save, the waning health the world may’ve Fallen to in short-sighted conflict, conflagrated-reignited

Change with the tide, beneath cloud-cover, do not hide Even as the sickly people wail, steadfast your heart, fail Is the one thing you cannot do, no matter what truths eschew So easily can dream turn, twist from soft loving yearn Into nightmares frightening façade, unfamiliar remains odd Wish, so wish freely, and with plenty ideally Believe and grasp firm, for they wiggle and worm How else can it be made true, without belief and great action from you So might the love be mended, with mirth best unended Believe this sweet lie, to succeed you must try So truth be what it may, you cannot stay safe in today Towards tomorrow, towards health, onto tomorrow is your great wealth The you, you will see, are as changed as can be But you choices you choose, be they kind or lose Sight of what matters above all, the self you proclaim, the self you will call

So I ask of you thus, please do not make a fuss Will the actions you take, from the world that you make Be as kind as remembered, so that your name will be heard Past changes and dreams, that may fester, fallen in seams Package your love, postage-mailed dove Soften the blows, the burdens life throws Upon gentle wings that flap, altering history read in your lap Wick the sickness of your mind, burn the fuel brightly shined So fade as swiftly torch be passed, nothing gold in life can last It is this fleeting, very briefly meeting That will be our prize, our lies To comfort whom we might, to survive the life of night Be you hunter, prey, or pass, shed not the tinted lens of glass Will you be there for others to remind, let always your heart be kind

Through the throngs of industry, cogs and gears that are not free Plagues of loss and doubt, towards the stars, great masses shout Shall we spare the rod, forsaken child, oh, god Make yourself in the shape, of desire from this coil, escape Be it worth the steam and smoke and toil, blood still will boil Burn away the shame and mess, the troubles writ under duress Towns will rise and cities fall, clouds washing over, shrouding kind pall Be it rain, or descending pain Be it rot or ruin, some end must come soon From stories wove, spring most sacred grove What fruit will labors bore, from this, life’s unending chore

Puppet, oh you! Sheltered true self from view Who are you, flutter, oh fly! Do as you dare, as you dare so you die Cry, tight-fisted, the world, they do not know you, as beyond fingers furled Forgive them these actions, these transactions Busybody-business not their own, abandoned all kindness once shown What strings will be threaded, which way are you headed To a place not yet known, when you’re older and grown They do not remember, how such a blight will dismember Disown and disfigure, such processes wound to configure What future so bright as the stars, twinkling as faintly as far’ly as Mars If they held you, beheld you as I, might they recall that soft whispered lie Such a world, a word even shared, as wings mid-flight paired

Soft-spirit fly, twinkle and wrinkle your flight as you try Message in the bottle, vestige in the pot-hole Of my heart, remembered thus again to start Pounding against the rest, inside your chest Will you wear these wings with me, over mountains, over sea? No longer what you were, what I was here to confer Is the story over? Reached epilogue, moreover No longer a conflict, left to impose or inflict Higher you’ll fly to the wishes on high, glistening stars upon wishes do lie Over disease, and clouds who seek to please Out past astral bodies that float, when all else has fallen from the boat Shall pity flourish in your eye, stoic, affixed towards the distant dry You cannot afford half-hearted measure, hard-hearted guffawing pleasure If great change, is in your plan to arrange

When the feeling flees, lost is the last purchase you can seize Before the fall of man, the rise of righteous hand Such are the machinations made, so too beneath the rain; fade Arbit yourself steadfast, should motivity seek to last By your hand and ego, will mountains be made of molehills, although Tiny victories are best afforded, with or without being rewarded Steel yourself with stolen heart, correct the course of rivers torn apart Slow the stream, and hold the dream Tomorrow, is on loan to borrow Make use of precious little time, such revelry is not a crime With one hand wish and other do, see first which one will come true

There exists an order to obey, will you follow, safe and stay Know the rules and which to break, if your life is yours to take And make no error, quiet shall be the roar The cry of liberty, stifled by raucous glee The quo is not one idly changed, more a devil exchanged Follow the rules, play along with fools Outside the lines are cookie cut, shaped as man ought to strut Wishing is a dangerous deed, but precious rare is what you need Let not be petrified by others fear, there hums within you always near A will to live, a love to give Once freely traded on the streets, no vile theft and bruised it greets Hidden sleeves and slumbering, awaits your song to boldly sing What makes you human, all this order as others plan Or will fates defy and fly, upon the wings-blue-fragile try

@env0writes C.Buck  

Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0

Support Your Local Artist!  

Photo by @mynamemeanscloud

[seahdalune]

hello this is the werewolf comic i’ve been working on for 3 weeks and it’s finally done

[sidneypoindexter]

live fast, die young, leave a pretty corpse

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Autumn Embers

Omegaverse where people who are compatible have complementary scents. Pheromones aren’t everything, of course, but you’ll get more cohesive group dynamics if everyone has scents that go together. Scent blockers and diffusers are everywhere in common spaces, so it’s not like people who’s scents don’t mesh can’t be around each other. Lots of people with subtler or hard to pin down scents only go au naturel on special occasions with family and their special someone.

Part 1 - Introductions

Part 2 - Work Introductions

Pre-Reader

Forming the Pack (Part 1) - John and Simon (SFW)

Forming the Pack (Part 2) - John, Gaz, and Simon (SFW)

[edwardwonghaupepelutivrusky4th]

technically if it's not simmered in the champagne region of france it's a sparkling best boy friend