#i have a disease called must write words down.

[kirkwallguy]

"wooow i've written so much this week i cant wait to take a break over the weekend" *gets home* *immediately starts writing fanfiction*

[anemonelovesfiction]

Kinktober 12- Fingering

Ao’nung x Human Fem Reader

Warnings ⚠️: The title gives it away, soulmate AU (matching tattoo’s)

Honestly just happy you guys enjoy my writing ❤️ thank you for your likes, comments, and reblogs, they make me incredibly happy and I look forward to seeing them☺️

I can’t remember if I proofread it but don’t be afraid to call out any mistakes :)

Word Count: 2.1K

I was born on Pandora like the rest of the kids here, scientists got horny and decided to have children, there was no effective birth control they could create and a new generation of humans had been born. Spider was the first of us, I was the second, and with us being born came a new wave of soulmate tattoo’s permanently imbedded in all our wrists. Something so special to the Na’Vi had started showing up on all of us, meaning the all mother must have had special plans for us or even saw us as her children.

I have no idea if Neytiri’s tattoo of Jake’s name had been in English or in Na’vi and at this point, knowing how she had been toward Spider, I had been afraid to ask but I couldn’t help and wonder if this had been something she often kept covered as a teenager, believing she had been rejected by the all mother due to the incomprehensible symbols on her wrist, and therefore believing she did not having a soulmate?

They did, however, keep their children’s wrists covered from the moment of their birth up until the moment they passed their iknimaya. Sure every kid had their curiosity and peeked under the band, but the name had been something kept a secret, some parents wouldn’t even take a look as they did not want to influence themselves to play matchmaker with their friends, it had been something they took seriously, a blessing from Eywa that their perfect match had been out there.

To be completely honest I hadn’t even known they wrote things down, or that they had a written vocabulary as they often spoke of their history, used the song chord to keep track of their lives, it wasn’t new to me that the tattoo on either wrist meant it was the name of your soulmate. Had this meant that the letters of my name littered themselves across a Na’vi’s wrist in English, or was it written in their language so they could understand it, did that specific Na’vi think they had been cursed had the letters been in symbols they had yet to understand? I’d purposely avoided wanting anything to do with learning the Na’vi written language due to the fear of rejection, had the specific person known it was their name they could decide what my fate would be.

There were three options. They could reject me flat out and reveal themselves as my soulmate, they could ignore me completely without having told me a thing and I’d die alone, and the highly unlikely scenario in which they’d want to have me for themselves and actually go through with being with me their entire lives. But all of that had been thrown out the window the moment Spider and I had been captured by his reincarnated father- which threw the both of us in a loop after he’d shared who he was- all of that shit had been left field, and we’d finally ended up with the Metkayina.

Due to suffeirng from foot-in-fucking-mouth disease, Lo’ak had blurted out to the people they often hung out with, that I could not read in Na’Vi, and that my soulmate was also Na’Vi. I had been given a bracelet, decorated with traditional Omatikaya colors and pattern, that I had yet to take off of my wrist from the moment Neteyam had made one for me, knowing I would want nothing more than to hide it. Even if Tuk had been young, she’d known how sensitive the topic was for me, and slapped the back of Lo’ak’s head from being a loud mouthed bitch- her words, not mine.

I’d kept a close eye on the bracelet he’d made me and assured it was tied around my wrist as tightly as possible, while allowing room for circulation, which was tricky considering riding on an Ilu- especially with Lo’ak or Neteyam, that shit loosened up every time. But with my close observation it remained intact and on my wrist, effectively covering my tattoo.

Until we’d all been huddled around the cook fire, the same group of people who hung out together sitting closely to one another, Kiri’s gasp breaking us all out of the concentration we’d all been in while listening to one of the guys talking about whatever it was they felt like sharing. All eyes had followed hers and like every other time, I’d been the last one to follow what they’d been doing, noticing my wrist had been handing something to her, vulnerably showing everyone what my tattoo had said, my eyes widened as I immediately look on the sand to find my bracelet and feeling my arm being tugged in another direction.

_________

Big hands had currently been forcing my thighs to stay open even while I attempted to shut them on his face, I’d been feeling overstimulated at the moment but his tongue continued to dance around my clit as if it had choreographed an entire show, I was on the verge of yet another orgasm and weakly attempted to push his forehead away, all while my hips pushed closer to him. I suck in a breath and throw my head back in frustration at my failed attempt, the coil in my stomach had tightened even more and I knew I was closer to release, a chuckle coming out of the mouth of the bastard who was currently eating me out.

“Ao’nung!” I whisper-yelled at the teal man below me, another quiet moan slips past my lips without wanting to, compelled to stop fighting as soon as his eyes shoot up through his thick lashes to meet mine, my knee’s growing weak at the sight. I couldn’t see his mouth as he was keeping it busy, but from the look in his eyes I could tell he had been smirking, feeling his fingers prod at my entrance, not bothering to tease any longer and sliding them in. I’d had two orgasms previous and the third one was right at the cusp, his fingers working diligently, he was insatiable at this moment and seemed to be doing what he wanted- not that I could complain as my hips buck upward to meet the teasing thrusts of his fingers.

I could feel the coil in my lower belly just about to give in, but his mouth detaches from my already soaked cunt, biting his lip as he focuses on his fingers being swallowed, and yet all I could do was attempt to wiggle my hips further, upset at his fingers retracting. Another whine had built itself in my throat and I look down to see him looking through his lashes and into the depths of my soul, completely forgetting he’d attached his kuru to the base of my skull and that he could feel everything I was feeling at the moment. I clench around his fingers subconsciously at the thought of how close we were at this time, his eyes were hazed with lust and longing, I could only imagine what my face looked like.

“You look gorgeous on my fingers, yawntu.” In the time I’d gotten lost staring at his eyes, he’d managed to meet my face with his own, his fingers working me closer to the edge without allowing me the satisfaction of coming, fingers pushing up against a specific spot and I could feel the waves of euphoria getting stronger, but not enough to crash over me. I grunt right as his lips meet mine and effectively muting the sound, feeling his opposite hand lightly pushing my thigh apart as his other continued its ministrations.

“Don’t stop-“ I’d grunted as his thrusts pick up their speed, my eyes closing on instinct as I bite my lip to keep from making too much noise, marui’s were considered their homes, but nobody had to tell me it was obvious you could hear every sound -there are gaping holes everywhere- I didn’t need to be the one human ruining it for everyone. My own gasp brings me back to the present feeling his fingers pushing harder, he’d been squatting on his toes while attempting a third orgasm out of me -which wasn’t that far behind- but from the angle I was at I could see he was hard under his loincloth, but he’d been too busy focusing on my cunt to care about himself, and who was I to mess with his concentration?

I’d wanted nothing more than to allow myself to moan, but considering our circumstances and how close we were to everyone else, I settled for short and fast pants, it was near impossible to keep any noise down with how well he’d been treating me and the sting overstimulation had only been temporary, being drowned out by the pleasure I was feeling at the moment. I was starting to feel myself spiral in my own head and felt like I needed something to hold on to, previously I’d been holding on to his pretty hair and accidentally pressing my nails into his scalp, but with nothing in reach for me to hold on I’d started slightly thrashing in the floor of our marui, but I’d rather do this than be loud.

“I want to see you come on my fingers.” My eyes snapped open -barely- at how low his voice had sounded only to realize he’d been too focused on my pussy to realize he’d said anything. I’d taken note he’d often speak without realizing he’d said anything at the moment until someone- usually Tsireya- called him out on whatever bullshit he’d said, ironically most of it was usually aimed at Spider and me. A whine sneaks past my mouth and one of my hands comes up to reach just as one of his hands come to squeeze the sides of my neck, staring right at me, eyes begging me to come.

“M’coming-“ I struggle to whisper and stated quite breathless before feeling my eyes shut again, a blinding white vision coming behind them as his fingers rub against the spot he had been assaulting this entire time. I could feel an insane amount of energy flowing through my body as I orgasmed and was surprised at how quiet I’d been, biting my own lip and thankful enough to not draw blood, allowing the waves to crash over my body silently. It kind of felt like when someone stretches in the morning, their limbs are spread wide and are on the verge of getting a Charlie-horse, minus the loud groan accompanying it.

Slowly but surely my senses start coming back to me and I could feel my body had been run through the ringer, I felt exhausted and energized at the same time, although a feeling of shock was coursing through me and it had taken a bit to remember that I had been attached to my husband, opening my eyes and seeing his shocked expression fitting the emotion I felt through our bond. I look down toward where he had been staring and it takes a second for me to realize there were droplets of something wet running along the length of his arm and some on his knees, my own eyes widening slightly at the sight, slowly reaching his stare -as he had found it in himself to look up- and realizing I was sharing the same shocked expression.

“What was that?” He asked and the amusement was clear as day in his voice, feeling a million thoughts starting to run through my head, although I was certain most of them had been his own. I shake my head a bit to rid myself of the disorganized chaos that had started flooding my brain to try and understand the predicament we were in, distinctly remembering that I may have done this one other time, but not remembering what it had been or even felt like when it happened before, but this one had definitely made me feel like I needed twelve business days to recover from.

“I need to see you do that again.” His eyes darkened as he said that and I could feel myself start to squirm with excitement, but hissing slightly at the sting of overstimulation, I was definitely in for it tonight and it was already late as fuck, were we ever going to get the sleep we needed to keep up with our busy day tomorrow?

_________

[meaningofaeons]

I know you must be pretty busy right now considering that you probably have a lot of requests but do you mind writing hanahaki disease au with Gepard and Sampo (separately)? Mb Natasha too if you write for her but that's completely optional! I'm just a sucker for pining 😞 They know reader for a long time but for some reason never made a move (well maybe Sampo did but reader thought he was just being his usual flirty self) but then reader got closer to someone else and they misunderstood and got jealous and the whole hanahaki thing happened

Thank you!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ blooming regrets

⊹ character(s) - gepard landau, sampo koski ⊹ word count - 1.6k ⊹ notes - gn!reader, hanahaki disease (character is diseased, not reader)/mentioned gore, angst just angst I'm sorry, a bit open-ended

hi anon! thanks for the req!! unfortunately I do not write for natasha but I'm happy to do the req for sampo and gepard (=^･ω･^=) I debated between ending this with angst or hurt/comfort but since you didn't specify I went for pure (but a Little open-ended?) angst hoohoo.. sorry it's kinda short ;w; ty again!!

⊹ Gepard Landau

His cough really wasn't a big deal.

He assured his fellow Silvermane Guards, his sister, even the newly-appointed Supreme Guardian Bronya Rand near-daily.

It was a cold. Just got something stuck in his throat. Ah, he just had a drink of water, and it went down the wrong pipe.

The Captain of the Silvermane Guards cannot afford to be unwell, not for a second. If he had a fever, he'd push past it. If he got a headache, he'd keep his focus on the job at hand and ignore his pain. No matter what it was, it wouldn't put him down, and this cough, while persistent, was no exception.

The excuses worked at first, but not for long.

And they certainly didn't work on you.

"I might not know the Supreme Guardian, but surely she's going to listen if I beg for you to be given a break. Ever since the Astral Express crew left, the Fragmentum has receded more than before. Surely you can—"

"Y/N, I told you, it's just a minor cold. I'm fine. Just fine."

You raised a brow.

"This cough has only gotten worse since you first had it, Gepard! That's no simple cold. If you really want me to stop bothering you, at least go to the doctor and get yourself checked out."

In an attempt to appease you, the man had agreed, finding himself trudging to the one place he wanted to avoid.

If the doctor diagnosed him, then it became real that he had some sort of illness, and that would only be a hindrance. Not only to his duties, but to you...

Still, if going to be examined would make you happy... he'd do it.

The man would do anything for you.

And it seems that this was the problem all along.

"M-Mr. Landau..." the physician reentered the room after a short moment to look over his tests, anxiously fiddling with the paperwork. Well, that wasn't a good sign.

"It's okay, I can take it," Gepard answered confidently, folding his hands as he stifled another cough. "Any treatment is fine, as long as I can get back to work as soon as possible."

The physician's face crumbled, and the Captain felt his pulse run cold.

Was it... worse than he thought?

"I'm... I'm terribly sorry, sir. I'm afraid this is not something you may want treated."

What does that even mean?

"Of course I do! Just..." Gepard calmed himself, slumping onto the examination bed again. "Just let me know what it is."

"Sir... you have contracted an incredibly rare disease. With the onset of the Eternal Freeze and the extinction of many botanical-related illnesses and plants, many medical experts considered it impossible for this disease to return, and many wrote it off as gone for good. But..."

He turned a paper containing an x-ray of the Captain's chest.

A small root dug its way up inside his lung, and the blonde froze.

"It's called Hanahaki... and it originates from love. Unrequited love. And the only cure, I fear, is... to have your love for the one that afflicted this removed for good."

—

Against all odds, Gepard had taken the time off that he desperately needed.

Though Supreme Guardian Bronya was shocked at first by his submission to the advice of everyone around him, she could not bring herself to question the man when he coughed again—seeing that crimson red sprout up that he desperately tried to hide.

Knowledge that hanahaki was still in existence would bring panic to the masses. Gepard knew this. He kept himself hidden, out of sight. Not even to see you did he leave his home.

After all, even that simple action alone would hasten his disease.

He still had a duty. He told himself that over and over, slamming it into his mind. The surgery to remove the roots was all but essential.

Gazing out of the Landau home's window, seeing you walking down the street with a smile on his face... his heart panged, though.

He couldn't do it.

Loving you was painful, but the thought of losing that emotion towards you wrought even further pain upon him.

It was then that he saw a stranger at your side. Well, not quite—he'd seen them around with you before, talking to you, laughing with you, taking your hand as they led you around town.

Just as they did in that moment.

An uncomfortable feeling rose in Gepard's throat, and he began hacking into his hand once again, collapsing as he clutched the windowsill for stability.

A small, blood-soaked periwinkle fell right into his waiting hand.

Yet somehow, it felt as though his chest hurt for reasons far deeper than the flowers taking hold of his lungs with each passing moment.

⊹ Sampo Koski

Sampo wasn't one to instill concern in anyone.

Even for those who genuinely cared for him, though they were few and far between, it was always the same thought.

"It's Sampo. What could possibly happen to him?"

Of course, there's always the joking thought that one day, all his disgruntled customers and scammed victims will come back to wreak vengeance. But really, this happened every other week.

And Sampo was always fine.

So, when he sat in front of a very distraught Natasha, something felt terribly, horribly wrong.

"H-Heyyy, Nat! Come on, now, you can tell Sampo all the details of this little cough!" he chuckled, though it was punctuated by said hacking. "It can't be too bad, eh?"

Usually, his joking would elicit even just a small chuckle from the woman. But she nearly trembled when picking up her notes, rereading them over and over as though to confirm the information she already knew.

"Sampo..." she murmured. "Is there... someone you love?"

Though he could crack another jest, ask if Miss Natasha of all people was coming onto him, he saw the look in her eye, and swallowed another choke.

"Erm..."

Of course, in spite of his hesitation in speech, his mind had none at all.

Your face came to mind at once, bright, smiling, overjoyed. The way your brow would pull when he got into a scuffle and came to you all banged up, or the way you'd laugh at his latest scheme to trick some no-good vagrants into a 'package deal' scam.

Your energy, your voice, your touch. Everything flooded into his senses, and he smiled despite himself, despite the situation.

"Well..."

"If you're thinking of lying, save it," Natasha managed a strained laugh. "I think we both know from that silly grin that you have someone in mind. And I know... I think I know exactly who it is."

"But what've they got to do with my 'lil cold? Don't tell me... My only cure is to have my beloved Y/N nurse me back to health?!" Sampo clasped his hands together, making goo-goo eyes at Natasha.

He had assumed the mood to be lightened, but her eyes only darkened again.

"Sampo... this disease... it's—"

Her prognosis was punctuated by another cough from the conman—this time wet, uncomfortable, as blood trickled down the corner of his mouth. He was about to continue her sentence for her to throw in a joke, to reassure him that he was used to such minor amounts of blood, when something rose up his throat and into his mouth, cutting off his words.

Loosening his jaw, a purple and pink hyacinth landed right in his palm. Natasha was so pale, she might as well have been a ghost.

"What's..."

For once in his life, even the Sampo Koski was stumped.

"Hanahaki..." Natasha whispered, covering her mouth.

"What?!" Sampo's head snapped up, flicking between the doctor and the flower. "That's... That's a myth that kids get told so they confess their feelings quicker, so they don't chicken out. C-Come on, Miss Nat, that's not—"

She shook her head, and Sampo paused, staring at the flower.

"I've gotta clear my head."

"Sampo!"

The conman was to his feet in an instant, speed-walking out of the clinic faster than he ever thought his legs could take him. He didn't really know where he needed to go, but he knew he had to see you.

Seeing your face would put that warm, fuzzy, butterfly-like feeling right back in his chest. It would replace all this pain crawling into his lungs, his throat, not worsen it.

But when he saw you approach with your friend in tow, it felt like his chest had been stabbed straight through.

"Sampo! I heard you saw Nat today. You okay?"

"Y-Yeah!" Sampo was quick on the uptake, hiding the flower and swiping a hand over his mouth swiftly in case of any leftover blood. "You know me, just'a coupl'a bangs and scrapes from the latest 'customer'. You know how it is for ol' Sampo!"

You chuckled lightly.

"Well, that's good. Just don't go scamming any good people now, huh?" Your friend tugged your arm, giving Sampo an apologetic smile—something that dug up an even more foreign emotion within him. "Ah, right. I'm sorry, Sampo, we have plans today. But let's spend some time at the Great Mine some other time, huh?"

"No problemo! Sampo never skimps out on plans, and he never leaves a friend hanging! I'll see you then, Y/N."

You left with one last laugh and a smile.

Sampo's own smile slowly fell the moment you vanished from view... and he stared at the pink-and-purple hyacinth in his hand.

He recalled what they meant when Natasha had told him once, explaining all the intricacies of flower language if he were to ever give a 'special someone' a bouquet one day...

Joy, fresh starts, new love... But the purple?

That could only mean regret.

The conman threw the flower to the ground and stalked away, but not before trampling the bud.

As if he could ever regret something like loving you.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 10

Tyler Durden + Leather

Tyler Durden is like a disease or a very bad virus for me. He won’t go away no matter how hard I try, and I need him wrecked. I will always devour a reader who isn’t starstruck by Tyler and take all his bullshit, so this one is too.

Oh yeah Tyler and the narrator are two different people in this even though we don’t see the narrator, just thought I should add that. Readers also a big guy in this, cuz I like it. I also gave the reader some specific tattoos for plot, lmao.

This became a lot more than just leather stuff, so hope yall enjoy as I fell completely off-track writing this. Enjoy nerds.

Kinktober list

Tyler Durden, a name on the lips of every single member of Fight Club. It was whispered with the same reverence one would when speaking of a god, awe and worship in their voices as they looked around them as if the man himself would materialize out of thin air.

You had joined Fight Club a while ago, from your understanding this wasn’t the original place it had started, it wasn’t even the second or third. It was in the back of a mechanics shop, the garage cleaned of any cars and the tables with tools pushed away to the back of the room. You had become somewhat of a stable here, even surpassing who was meant to be the captain sent by Tyler Durden himself.

To everyone there you were almost untouchable, never buckling under anyone’s fist or kicks, always getting right back up and wailing on them with twice the strength they had tried to deliver onto you. To the captain, the space monkey, it was like looking at another version of Tyler, though you never joked or smirked, you never tried to butter anyone up or spread your ideals to them in sugar coated words.

And even though you had never tried to gain a following, a handful of space monkeys of your own, you got it. This group of fight club seemed to have ripped itself free from project mayhems claws and thrown them to the wind, turning to their new object of worship, you. Where Tyler Durden was only rumors and whispers, you were very real, your punches like revelations and your glare like the light of God shining down upon them.

You didn’t notice or care that they started calling you sir, or asked what their homework was, neglecting the captain apparently sent by Tyler Durden all together. You had always thought of the homework as stupid and useless, so you would always shrug and tell them to have a healthy number of meals, drink enough water, sleep well, things like that. You didn’t care for their attention, as long as you got to fight. And at this point, they would all crawl over each other for a chance to fight you, to feel your fists against them making bruises like psalms or bible verses stamped into their very being.

Your followers, your sheep as you had referred to them as once as a joke, must have started spreading your message, as more and more people joined your Fight Club. Soon there were too many people to fit in the mechanics garage, but one of the sheep there, as they had embraced being called, apparently knew of a place you could go. It was an abandoned storage facility, large enough to fit hundreds of people if needed inside, and at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if there were that many. You could never keep count as the members always seemed to change, like they were taking turns on who would get to be there when you were.

You had never joined fight club because you believed any of the drivel they spewed, you had been half drunk the first time you had stumbled into one, and had won multiple fights that night. It seemed as time passed and more and more sheep appeared, your name was lost in the process. After a while you were referred to as The Angel, The Demon, or even The Demiurge.

You knew where they got all these names from, as you had multiple tattoos that could hint at Christianity or something similar. Biblically accurate angels on your arms, demons down your legs, the leviathan curled over your hip bones and over your stomach, and a being of death on your back. You weren’t religious, you had simply gotten one angel tattoo when you were young because you thought it was cool and just kept up the theme. You were never much of a talker, so you never corrected the other men there when they referred to you as these titles. As long as you got to vent your anger through your fists, they could build you an altar for all you cared.

During all of this, the captain sent by Tyler Durden had disappeared and returned back to the house on paper street. Here he shared the news of the faction that had ripped themselves away and created their own system. How it seemed project mayhem had no control whatsoever, the only thing staying the same being the rules of fight club.

Tyler had not been home at the time the captain had returned, and it took weeks almost a month and a half before he came back. During this time, it seemed your sheep had reached out even further and infiltrated more of fight club’s other hideouts, spreading your message, and converting them to you. The space monkey that shared the information with Tyler did so with a shaky voice, his fists clenched by his side as he sweated, fearing his leader’s reaction to the apparent betrayal.

Instead of blowing up in rage Tyler had become interested, that evening laying in his bathtub thinking of what kind of person this Demiurge must be to pull the rug from right under him and steal what could be hundreds of his people. Not only that but your followers seemed to spread your message even faster than Tyler’s, more and more new people joining up to your branch than there did the original.

That Friday night he decided he needed to see it himself, the bubbling feeling of interest brewing in his chest. He had to see what was so attractive and drawing about this, he needed on an instinctual level to know who this other person was, the need burning deep in his bones and taking over most of his thoughts.

When he arrived at the empty storage facility, he was mildly intrigued at just how many people there were, and how many different people there seemed to be. Anything from the lowest of the low, to what looked like military men and judges lining the edges of the room. No one paid him any mind as he wormed his way through the crowd, making his way along the edges and keeping an eye out for whoever, their leader could be.

You had clocked Tyler the moment he stepped inside, you didn’t care who he was you just knew he was there for trouble, you could tell from the way he carried himself to the way he dressed. Your eyes traveled up and down his body, taking in the sheer almost see-through shirt half covered by a red leather jacket, and the tight leather pants dragged up over his thick thighs, the material stretching and pulling every time he would take a step.

Tyler caught your eye where you were standing against the walls, shadowed slightly by an overhang. You were wearing a baggy hoodie and grey sweatpants, the kind that looked baggy but left little to the imagination. He shot you that cocky smirk he was known for, and quirked his brow in interest when you looked away from him and towards the fight happening in the middle of the room, as if he was an afterthought.

It sent some kind of thrill through him, pushing him to search you out for the very fact that out of everyone here, only you seemed to notice he even existed. Worming his way out of the crowd with ease, he kept you as his target, Tyler’s eyes running over the shapes he could see through the fabric, his eyes lingering on your thighs or upper arms. Tyler was never one for performative muscles, but it seemed you had gotten yours from wailing on others instead of at a gym.

You heard him before he reached you, the fake leather of his pants announcing his presence as he neared you. When you looked over at him again, he smirked again. As he was closer you could see the chipped tooth of his, and the many bruises that seemed to litter his body from head to toe. He purred a greeting before leaning against the wall, turned towards you as he had to crane his neck to look up at you.

You pulled dismissively at your lip as he tried to start conversation, the attention of the men around you laying heavily on the two of you, not that you cared, but Tyler certainly noticed. As the fight in the middle of the room stopped, Tyler grinned at you and said, “Since it’s my first night here, why don’t we fight?”, a giddy excitement burning in his eyes, as if the concept of fighting was something he wanted more than a man wanted sex.

You looked down at him, quirking one of your brows before giving a slight shrug and an “alright”, motioning towards the center of the room with your head as you pushed off the wall and started making your way there. The many men in the room seemed to part as you approached, like the black sea parted for Moses. Tyler was starting to think he had found exactly who he was looking for, and when you pulled off your hoodie, revealing a shirtless torso underneath, he was sure. The tattoos and bruises on your skin told him he had the correct man.

The air grew tense, excitement running like electricity through it as the two of you got into position, both shirtless and shoeless. Where Tyler grinned and seemed giddy, jumping from foot to foot, you stood sure and silent, face completely blank. Your fight lasted longer than any either of you had been in in the past, Tyler growing somewhat frustrated as you never seemed to tire even a little. But it also made heat stir in his body, the leather of his pants doing a piss poor job at hiding how hard he was getting.

Tyler finally patted out as you held him in a choke grip, his vision almost going fully black before he called it quit. He could taste nothing but blood and couldn’t breathe through his nose after having it punched so many times. The men around the room cheered as you picked Tyler up from the floor and carried him out of the center, like one would a doll they found on the side of the road.

You made your way outside and threw Tyler into a chair, cleaning yourself up the best you could with some paper towels before pulling your hoodie on. Tyler made slow work of wiping the blood off himself, the shitty paper towels doing nothing to soothe his raw punched skin. The man couldn’t help but moan softly as he started cleaning himself rougher, the dry drag of the paper towels smearing blood over his sensitive skin.

He let his head flop back to stare at you, watching as you blew your nose to get some of the blood out as you shoved some gauze into your cheek where you must have ripped some stitching or similar during the fight. Glancing down your eyes met, and you huffed to yourself at the almost fucked out expression on Tyler’s face. His pupils were wide, and he was breathing through his mouth, his tongue peeking out to lick at his bottom lip every now and then.

He bit his lip, dropping the bloody paper towel on the ground to grab at his crotch, giving the tightly contained length a squeeze. He moaned out loud, his eyelids fluttering as he started massaging his length, his hips moving against his hand to try and get as much friction as he could through the material. You rolled your eyes as the man seemed to busy trying to fuck his own hand to really care that he was sitting shirtless and shoeless out in the open of some junkyard, his hair a mess and his nose definitely broken.

Tyler moaned when he was suddenly grabbed, lifted out of the chair with ease as you sat down, turning him around and dropping him in your lap. You had one of your thighs between his own, the sudden movement grinding his crotch against you. He groaned, forcing his hips down harder to drag his length against your thigh, the tight leather of his pants only making it more painful for him.

Reaching up, you grabbed his chin and turned his head to you. His eyes were half shut as he chewed at his lip, blood bubbling up and running down his chin as he gave a hard bite at a cut your fist at left earlier. When your thumb ran over his bottom lip, he let go of it to slip his tongue out and drag it against your finger. You stayed silent as you pressed your thumb up and into his mouth, Tyler immediately curling his tongue around it and sucking, hollowing his cheeks and pressing it as far into his mouth as possible.

Tyler let his eyes fall shut as he kept sucking on your thumb, slurping as spit ran out from between his lips and down your wrist. He groaned as you grabbed his hip with your other hand, moving him faster against your thigh, his cock giving a pathetic twitch where it was held tightly in place by the leather. Tyler let out a noise similar to a gurgle as he grew closer, his eyelids fluttering as his hips twitched in uneven motions, his sucking on your finger growing more desperate.

When he finally came he moaned, his mouth falling open and releasing your thumb that you pulled away, a string of spit connecting from his lip to the tip of your finger. He ground his hips down roughly against your thigh, choked noises leaving him as he could feel the cum spreading on the inside of his pants, the leather growing uncomfortable at the motion.

Reaching up you cradled his face in your hand and he leant into it like a touch starved cat, quiet moans leaving him as he rode the afterglow of his release. He let his upper torso grow useless as he flopped forwards, resting his head against your shoulder as he breathed, moving his hips in tiny motions as he muttered gibberish against the fabric of your hoodie. He was starting to see the appeal, Tyler decided. Maybe he would have to come back sometime soon to observe you again.

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapter #03

previous | all | next

More Trigun annotations! I'm doing a deep-read of the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read) side-by-side, and writing down everything I notice from small details, version differences, translation differences, etc. (and being so so gay about the characters. of course)

As always, here are the non-analysis panels of my dear babygirl (+ memes)...

And the rest is under the cut. i am living in ur brain now <3

[link for if the images aren’t in horizontal rows]

Starting off with the chapter cover of our handsome boy, this is the first time we see him with his glasses! I've seen someone on Twitter make a guide on Vash's different glasses designs over the manga (sadly it either cost money or was only distributed at a con and I don't have it...), so I'll try to pay attention to that during this readthrough.

As I've mentioned in the previous chapter, his antennae used to stand straight up, but they're bent now! They pop back up once in a while but from here on, the default is bent.

I love how gently he sets the girl down, and also the way everyone waits in awkward silence (and confusion) for Vash to move the rubble.

I think this part works excellently as-is, but notes on the nuances of what Nebraska originally said (this was ridiculously hard and the translation is very rough):

①「絶対どこかで不都合を並べた奴を消して来てるのさ」 ②「なぜなら」 ③「現におまえは消される側にまわってねえ……！！」 ↓ ① There has to have been a time when you "eliminated" ("erased"/killed) someone that got in your way (/someone unfortunate enough to [be there]...etc). ② Because... ③ In reality, you haven't taken on the role ("side") of being eliminated...!!

This part's very hard... He's talking about something similar to offense/defense. In this case, it's that because Vash has been avoiding conflict/being in direct danger entirely, Nebraska is saying that Vash must have killed, directly or indirectly, someone who got in the way of Vash's fleeing. I think.

I'm not sure why, but the way this was phrased stuck out to me.

Also, Gofsef's fist had an extra knuckle for one panel.

A translation error - it should be something like "He shot every bullet into the same precise spot... And shifted its trajectory!?"

Vash says "JACKPOT!" in English here, in the Japanese version. also hes soooo handsomeeeeee look at him omgggg kicking my legs back n forth blushing giggling i need to be tranquilized.

Nebraska's straight-up being crushed into pieces here. goddamn.

Not sure if it was removed in one of the reprints or in Overhaul's cleanup process, but in my Japanese copy, there was a "thump" onomatopoea of the guy backing into a wall.

Milly and Meryl are the best comedy duo in the world... They're perfect... The tiny speech bubble actually says something like "They're goofing all over the place..." The word ボケ (boke) is the funny man in a manzai comedy duo (as opposed to the straight man), and/or the jokes that the person in that role makes.

YIPPEE!! (In Japanese, it's one continuous exclamation ↑ like so. Also, there are tiny music notes around the handwritten text in the wahoo speech bubble.)

Vash runs out of breath after celebrating (cleaned up in Overhaul). God he's so silly...

A small error - I would phrase Meryl's line as "[Now, now,] Don't get too ahead of yourself."

I love how in Japanese, Meryl calls Vash "a very dangerous person with chronic troublemaker disease (慢性トラブル症)." I'm saying this from now on.

She also sarcastically says that she's grateful of the stars' alignment that they were able to meet, while gorilla gripping Vash's hand.

Also, I never noticed how fucked up Nebraska's body was!? Maybe the memories just got rewritten by Stampede. but goddamn. gun for legs...giant mechanical hands...

Vash making a Kirby Ꙩ.Ꙩ face my beloved. just a little guy!! with some badass girls!!! The last line is 「…はい？」 which is like what??/huh??/alright?? etc. はい is a very versatile word ☝ lol

That's it for Chapter #03! As always, the Japanese annotations will be in the reblogs. I'll remember to write the post about Meryl's speech patterns sometime soon.

[witchersoldier]

Stars He Hung || part two

azriel x fem!reader

PART ONE PART THREE

SUMMARY: He hung the stars for you. Then he made you cry them all.

WARNINGS: (+16) first person pov, angst, suicidal thoughts, unrequited love, more angst, probably bad writing.

WORD COUNT: +1200

Author's Note: I feel like I rushed into this one and it ended up more of a filler chapter than super important part of the story. It's not as good as I thought it'd be. But more is to come, hopefully faster than part two came. This was not proofread. Also sorry if I forget to tag anyone, I suck at this posting fics thing

tag list: @clara-geekhime

@yakoxshadow

@feysandzoyalailover

@tell-me-a-poem

•••

“Y/N sweetheart, are you awake?” someone knocked on my bedroom door, asking for me with a soothing voice. Barely awaken and already had a hammering headache, the consequences of crying myself to numbness hitting stronger than ever. I sat up on the bed, stretching my legs and arms. “Who is it?” I asked in between yawning. Slowly walking to the mirror placed above my dresser, I saw my reflection and the remaining golden stains on my face and neck. “It’s me, Feyre. Can I come in?” shit, I thought. I must have cried more after washing my face last night, when I thought I had calmed down. “Just a moment, please.” I responded while running to the bathroom sink to wash my face as fast as I could. Just before opening the door, I noticed my face wasn’t the only thing stained with golden tears, my pillow was too. Extending a hand towards the pillow, shiny purple tendrils of light seeped from me and reached to turn the messy side down.

Opening the door when everything seemed in order, Feyre’s big blue eyes greeted me, a sympathetic smile matching her doe eyes. “I won’t beat around the bush, so please, let’s sit down so we can talk.” She asked, worry in her voice. “Feyre, I appreciate your concern, really. But everything’s fine, you don’t have to worry.” I tried to assure her, but she just ignored my words and took my hand in hers, leading me to the lilac armchairs I had by the window, near the bookshelf-covered wall. Sitting down, I stared at her for quite some time before she spoke, “I talked with Amren earlier, about what I saw last night.” The words were carefully said to me, she knows it’s a touchy subject and I know that what she found about my condition is not going to be good news. “How bad is it?” I want nothing more than to be over with this conversation, so I can go back to the never ending self-pity cycle. “It’s a disease called Star Tear, caused by-” she paused, taking in a long breath before announcing “It’s caused by unrequited love.” I saw pain and confusion in Feyre’s eyes, it hurt her to tell me about this. Which is totally understandable, I’d hurt too, if I had to tell my best friend the fae she’s hopelessly in love with doesn’t reciprocate her feelings. But why is there confusion in her? Everything is so obviously clear. “The star light you’re crying; it’ll damage your vision. Within the first five days, the colors you see will start to fade away, until the only color you can see is from the golden tears.” Feyre was fidgeting with her hands. It’s been such a long time since I saw her antsy, anxious. “What happens after the five days? Do I die?” If I’m honest with myself, that’d be a great relief. Not having to deal with the shame, the pain he’s putting me through. “No. After those five days, you start losing your vision. If by the seventh day you’re still crying stars, you’ll be permanently blind.” How poetic, I think, living in the City of Starlight, crying stars for the love you give to a male who doesn’t seem to know how to love, then being blinded by love and stars. All those dreams I had as a youngling, about loving someone who makes you see stars, they were so misinterpreted. Everything I once craved turned into my own ruin. I dug my own grave, I cursed my own future. I deserve this awful destiny; I should be fated to an even worse one. I was so stupid. I am so stupid. He made me stupid.

“Thank you for letting me know, Fey, but I need to be alone right now. Please.” Holding back those stupidly bright tears were so difficult, so fucking difficult. Feyre has so much do deal with, I can’t stress her any further. I’d never forgive myself if I was to blame for worrying her during her pregnancy. This is the one thing I can’t bear to do. She stands up, but not to leave my room as I hoped she would. She stood in front of me, offering her hand before she sat by the arm of my own chair. Looking down at me, with her eyes so warm and comforting, “Y/N, I…” Feyre stopped as if she was balancing her words and deciding against voicing her thoughts. “It’s okay. Take your time. When you’re ready, come down and let’s have something to eat, okay?” I nodded before she left.

★

Overthinking all night, I barely got any sleep. Tossing and turning in my bed, my blanket fell off so many times, I lost count. My cheeks were once again dirty with star tears as I stare at my reflection in the mirror, trying to look presentable for the day. My temples hurt, headache taking over me, with something like pieces of a puzzle itching in my mind, trying to come together. She needed to ask me something, I noticed that. Whatever it was, must be like a blow to the stomach, something so hard to take in that Feyre, my High Lady and best friend, couldn’t ask me. As if anything she had to say could make me hurt more. Little did she know that there’s almost nothing left of me to hurt. Seeing Azriel giving Elain that necklace, being so close to her, feeling his desire, it ripped me apart. My chest tightened so much, there wasn’t enough air in the world for me to breath at that moment. I felt like my heart was tied by a rope so strong and powerful that I couldn’t get away from the scene. I was frozen in place. Tied to him. And the more I had to stretch that rope that bound us together, the more it hurt. Walking away from him physically hurt. I don’t think something could ever hurt me more than the weight of this rope on my chest. Crushing my heart, begging for release. Release.

★

I didn’t realize he had finished cleaning me up until I missed his body warmth beside me. Blindly reaching out to him, I touched his scarred hand, grabbing his attention back to me. “I love you, did you know that?” I said barely above a whisper, unconsciously caressing his hand. Azriel leaned down and softly kissed my forehead. He’s always been sweet to me, but even in my almost dozed off state I could feel the difference. This was tender, loving and even a little melancholic, as his lips trembled and tears formed in his waterline. I wish he would open up, let me him. I want to understand him, but right now I can barely keep my eyes open. “Let me in to your heart, I would never hurt you.” I muttered before the warmest and brightest of feelings inside my chest lulled me into a deep sleep.

“You already own my heart, my mate.” Azriel whispered to himself. The realization sending chills down his spine. He longed to feel like this, but there were so many things keeping him from getting what he’s always dreamed of. So many thoughts restraining him, keeping him trapped in this dark and cold pit, in a loop of fear and anger, sadness and self-hate, pain. What does it take to get out of this place? How does he let go?

[mikawritings]

How to Write Horror

 - in order to be scary, a horror must include these 4 things:

   - the unknown

eg, the characters are threatened by something paranormal, a stranger, in a place they don't fully understand, or just by something they no nothing about.

maybe they don't know when it's going to attack, or there's an air of mystery over what it will do when it attacks, perhaps they don't know where it came from or why it's targeting them.

this makes it scary because it leads the reader to question their safety against something potentially much stronger than them, which they may not be able to defeat or escape from.

   - characters that feel powerless against the threat

if your character feels confident, strong and can easily defeat the threat (or with a bit of a struggle) then you're probably writing an action or something, not a horror.

horror is supposed to make the readers feel that little pit in their stomach when they begin to question how/if the characters are going to pull this off, and who may get hurt or killed along the way.

having a threat with seemingly unbeatable qualities adds more tension and suspense to the story, and makes the reader all the more releaved when it finally pays off and the characters escape (or don't?)

   - incorporation of the uncanny valley

the uncanny valley refers to a feeling that humans get when faced with something that is almost right, but not quite.

it is the reason why we find things like human-like robots or skinwalkers so scary.

it may have developed evolutionarily to stop people from going near things like corpses or people with a disease.

ways to incorporate this valley and leave your readers with the overbearing feeling that something just isn't right include: a threat that is oddly humanlike, a transportation into a world where things aren't quite the same as their previous, and maybe animals in the story start behaving oddly.

a good example of this in a book i read once was that the house where all the characters were staying in had been built slightly wrong; every room was not quite square, the stairs were just slightly different sizes, all the furniture and hallways and walls were just placed a little off. this gave the characters the effect of never being able to get comfortable in the house- they kept running into things, stumbling on the stairs and never quite got their bearings, which made the horror so much creepier.

   - the threat of brutality 

obviously, there's no point in the ghost story if the ghost is friendly. there's no point in the chainsaw guy only being there to cut down some trees. there has to be a reason why your characters need to escape from the threat and are scared of it.

when the ghost causes someone to jump off a balcony, when the chainsaw guy slashes someone, that's when you know there is a threat that could plausibly kill or hurt the characters, and only then can the readers begin to feel scared for them.

a close call isn't a close call if they didn't avoid anything- so give them something to avoid, give them something to run from, give them a reason to be scared.

some tips on the actual writing style which is most effective for horror:

short sentences in the action. you don't want to tie your reader down with fancy descriptions of how the walls look as they're being chased by a zombie, no? make it short and sweet, cram the action in.

have your characters never quite feel comfortable. as i said earlier, this adds to the readers' feelings of unease throughout the book. keep mentioning how the threat is still outside, or in the beginning of the story mention how something's off about the setting ect.

choose your words carefully. i don't remember who it was, but there was a roman poet once who wrote about a bird being 'ripped apart'. i'm sure we can all agree that those words don't have the same effect as 'attacked' or 'killed'. his choice of words mean that the story is more vivid, the picture that people build in their heads more violent.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

DC

Send to All by kerosceene

I, ___________________________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”). - the bats have a sex pollen release form. because of course they do.

My Brother's Keeper by Chemical_Processes

Tim gets hit with Fear while on a league mission, and it's Damian's job to get him home in one piece.

Statute of Limitations by Oka_Hills1232

Captain Marvel has been in the game for a decade now. He's very likeable, everyone agrees on this, but that's about the only thing anyone can say about him. For however friendly he seems, he's never really talked about his life outside of the cape. That is, until today.

The Justice League has just learned something rather alarming about their enigmatic colleague Captain Marvel. They really need to talk to him about it, the problem is, he's very hard to get ahold of… Billy's just here to enjoy himself and revel in the big reveal, after all, it's not like anyone can stop him now.

Scum Villain Self-Saving System

Subversion by feelslikefire

Shen Qingqiu encounters Luo Binghe two years early in a brothel in Jin Lan City. Upon seeing his once most beloved disciple, Shen Qingqiu promptly starts coughing up flower petals. (Again.)

Then things get worse.

* * * * *

Or: I wondered, "What would happen if I smashed truth pollen and hanahaki disease together as tropes?" This is the result.

My Hero Academia

i fell heavy (into your arms) by sundefeater lou (sundefeater) for EyesofftheMaud

He could see him though. His cheeks were round with baby fat, his eyes unshadowed, but he was unmistakably his Toshinori. Even before he'd gotten the weakly mumbled confirmation of the other's name he'd known. He could see Toshinori in the child's eyes, the deep blue gaze watery and afraid but so achingly familiar; he could feel it in his bones, where One for All sang and reached for the remnants of ashes that should have been there, but weren't.

Or: Izuku has always been a dutiful son. All Might suddenly being younger than Eri isn't going to change that.

Cataclysm by xylophones

Part 2 of Despite Your Good Intentions

Opinion Editorial • Tokyo Times Hero Intern Deku: Our Next Savior, or the Catalyst of Hero Society’s Downfall? By Yumoto Ryobe Like • Comment • Share It’s been a month since Hosu City was rocked with attacks from the newest villain group, the League of Villains, and Hero Intern Deku’s (unranked) takedown of the serial killer Stain, his first S ranked villain arrest. Pro Hero media is a mess of differing opinions on Deku, ranging from idolization to condemnation. Fan clubs and hate clubs alike have popped up online. Despite his rousing speech in Hosu and his call to action, Deku has been notably absent from the public eye in any meaningful way. With tensions high and no word from the one at the heart of all the chaos, the question must be asked: just what the hell is Hero Intern Deku doing? (Honestly? His best.)

Stranger Things

Actually Me - Eddie Munson by Savi_Yoi

This idea was bouncing around my brain at 3am so I just had to write it down.

Eddie is a famous musician. Gaining fame through the 90s with Corroded Coffin. Him and Steve have been together since 1987, but they were always very private about their relationship. Steve is like a cryptid in the Corroded Coffin fandom, with very little information about him, and very few pictures. Eddie is promoting a solo album in 2021, and Steve is pulled on camera to do a silly interview with him. They're about 54/55 in this fic.

This is the transcript of that interview.

The Tunnels of Bel'Mar by neuronary

“Shit,” Wheeler said, realisation dawning across his face. “Fucking tunnels, shit!” “Seriously, dude?” Sinclair said. “You just clocked? He’s been freaking out all week and you only just realised.” “It’s Dustin!” Wheeler protested. “I thought he was just… being Dustin!”

Or, a dungeon Eddie designs freaks Dustin out a little bit too much. He doesn't get an explanation.

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

"Professor Neil Ferguson, the architect of Britain’s lockdown, today denied ever calling for the first national stay-at-home order – in the latest instance of lockdown backpedalling."

Professor Lockdown Denies Ever Calling For Lockdown

BY TYLER DURDEN

MONDAY, NOV 06, 2023 - 03:30 AM

Authored by Will Jones via The Brownstone Institute,

In one of the more bizarre moments at the Covid Inquiry so far, Professor Neil Ferguson, the architect of Britain’s lockdown, today denied ever calling for the first national stay-at-home order – in the latest instance of lockdown backpedalling. 

The Mail  has more.

Professor Neil Ferguson’s terrifying March 2020 models warned that 500,000 Brits would die unless tougher action was taken to curb the virus’s spread.

It spooked Boris Johnson into adopting draconian restrictions that saw the country told they “must stay at home.” Vaccines — considered the only safe route out of the pandemic — were still months away from being deployed.

But Professor Ferguson, who quit his role as a SAGE adviser two months after being caught breaking social distancing rules to meet his married lover, today insisted he didn’t tell officials to plunge the country into a lockdown.

He told the UK COVID-19 Inquiry that the situation was “a lot more complex.”

The inquiry is in its second module, which is examining core UK decision-making and political governance.

Hugo Keith KC asked: “Do you feel that you did confine yourself to the provision of scientific advice, or did you become, despite your best endeavours, irrevocably involved in determination of policy?”

Imperial College London’s Professor Ferguson, nicknamed ‘Professor Lockdown’ for his infamous modelling, said it was a “difficult question to answer.”

He said: “I know I’m associated very much with a particular policy.

“But as you’ll be aware from the evidence I’ve given in my statement and statements of evidence, the reality was a lot more complex. 

“I don’t think I stepped over that line to say ‘we need to do this now.’

“What I tried to do was at times, which was stepping outside the scientific advisory role, to try and focus people’s minds on what was going to happen and the consequences of current trends.”

The epidemiologist drew heavy flak for his team’s modelling on the Covid pandemic. 

Their work suggested 500,000 Brits would die if nothing was done to stop the spread of the virus and there would be 250,000 deaths if two-thirds caught Covid.

Worth reading in full.

Ross Clark in the Spectator says that perhaps the most remarkable revelation from Professor Ferguson’s inquiry evidence is that “he spoke to and emailed Ben Warner at No. 10 on March 13th, three days before the Imperial paper [Report 9] was published.”

Warner was a data scientist brought into Downing Street by Dominic Cummings and whom Cummings later credited for inducing pandemic alarm in No. 10, so Ferguson contacting him directly beforehand is significant. 

However, Clark notes that in his email to Warner,

“Ferguson then stopped short of damning the Government’s policy of mitigation rather than suppression. In fact, if the Government decided to continue with mitigation, he wrote, ‘there is a rational basis to that decision which I would say the science supports.’ However, he added, the Government should make it clear how many people were likely to die.

“Intriguingly, Ferguson then went on to write: ‘This event is in the natural disaster category and the cure (e.g. massive social distancing, shutdowns) could be worse than the disease.’ In other words, he had at least considered the possibility that lockdowns could cause more damage than they were worth – but neither he nor anyone else seems to have tried to model this.”"

[barbex]

Happy Friday! How about a smooshy prompt on this happiest of weekdays: “The way I feel when I’m with you…” Love the potential in that ellipsis :) Have a fun evening!

Thank you! Happy @dadrunkwriting Friday! This prompt turned out differently than I thought, 1300 words and there isn't even smut!

Fenris x Anders:

---

When Anders enters Fenris' mansion, he always announces his presence with a loud "Hello, it's me, Anders!" and climbs up the stairs. The hall is relatively clean by now, corpses and mushrooms removed and someone actually fixed all the steps. But Fenris still lives in the room upstairs, ignoring the rest of the house except for the kitchen and the pantry. 

Despite having announced himself already, Anders still knocks on Fenris' door and waits for him to call him inside. It's only polite. And it makes Anders feel a little safer. Of all the people he knows, Fenris is probably the most dangerous one. Maybe Sebastian is more dangerous by law, just one angry frown away from handing him over to the templars, but Fenris poses the more immediate danger of dying by getting his heart ripped out of his chest. 

Anders likes to tell himself that Fenris wouldn't do that, not anymore. Not since Anders agreed to teach him how to read. Not since they sit next to each other every other night, nibbling on something tasty Fenris bought at the market, while sounding out letters and writing into Fenris' journal. 

It's almost as if they're friends. Almost.

Two nights ago, Anders made a joke, a bad one, about chocolate he got from a templar at the Circle, as a reward for certain services. Fenris didn't laugh, just glared at him and Anders learned his lesson. His life as a mage is not something Fenris wants to hear about. 

"Come in," Fenris calls out from behind the door. 

Anders steps inside, closing the door behind him to keep the warmth in. A fire burns bright in the fireplace, it's warm enough for Anders to take off his coat. Fenris waits for him at the table, his journal, the current book they work with, an ink well, and several large feathers arranged on the table. He watches as Anders leans his 'walking stick' against the wall next to the door, right by the armor stand with Fenris' sword and armor.

"Hello, how are you?" Anders puts his own journal and book he took from Hawke's library on the table. He flexes his fingers. "How are the markings today?"

"You know how they are," Fenris snaps.

Anders nods. If Fenris is this irritated, the pain must be bad. It's no use to talk to him any further when he's like this. Not so long ago, he might have felt some sick sort of satisfaction in riling him up further when he's like this, but now that he knows Fenris is in near constant pain from his markings, he's ashamed for ever acting this way.

He steps behind Fenris' chair. "May I touch you?" Anders holds his hands out, hovering over Fenris' shoulders. 

There's always a beat, a hesitation, where Fenris seems to fight with himself, until he finally hangs his head as if defeated. "Yes, you can touch." 

Anders rolls his eyes, only because Fenris can't see it. The way Fenris acts, one would think he carries a disease. Of course, in his eyes, magic is just that, a dangerous disease. 

He puts his hands on Fenris' shoulders and slowly lets healing flow into him. He has a little practice by now, guiding it along the lyrium lines. The tension seeps from Fenris' shoulders and his own shoulders mirror him. He can't help feeling tense around an irritated man who barely tolerates him, having him relax under his hands does wonders for the kinks in his neck.

After a while, a bitter taste on his tongue tells him that his mana is about to run out, and he slows the flow of his magic until he stops. Healing the lyrium lines takes more mana than healing Hawke and Isabela combined after a fight on the Stormcoast. Anders shakes his aching fingers, dissipating residual energy. 

He staggers backwards and sits down on Fenris' bed and just breathes for a while. 

"Mage, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's been a long day, lots of patients." He leans his head back and closes his eyes. "Your markings take a lot of mana." 

"Lie down and rest."

Anders' eyes fly open. "On your bed?"

"There is no other you could use."

As if drawn by invisible strings, Anders falls backwards, not even bothering to scoot up so that his legs are on the bed too. "Just a minute."

Anders wakes on his side, his head on a pillow and his feet up on the mattress and under a blanket. Fenris must have pulled him up as he slept and even took off his boots. What a strange thing to do. He blinks, turning on his back, only to bump against someone's leg. Fenris sits on the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard, with his book in his lap, looking directly at him. 

So much for sneaking out discreetly. "I slept?" he asks dumbly.

"Yes."

"Sorry, we'll make up for the lesson next time." He sits up, swinging his legs over the side. Lying in bed with Fenris is a level of closeness he can't handle, not with someone who is gorgeous, intelligent, and hates him for being who he is. That kind of conflict should be reserved for Varric's tales.

Anders searches for his boots, deliberately not looking at Fenris. But the elf appears in his vision like a living shadow, and he stumbles back in shock, sitting down again. "Ah! Maker's breath, you're silent like a ghost."

Fenris stands in front of him, staring at his feet. "I... I want to apologise." 

"What in the void for?"

"For snapping at you."

"When you were in pain?" Anders dismisses it with a wave of his hand. "Forget about it."

"No," Fenris says softly. "I have forgotten so much, this I don't want to forget. The way I feel when I’m with you…"

Anders grins. "I'm an excellent healer."

"I know." An expression of pain rushes over Fenris' face. "Fasta vass, that is not what I meant."

"Listen, I know I'm making you uncomfortable —"

"You don't." Fenris finally looks him in the eyes. "You annoy me sometimes, you make me question everything I know, but you don't make me uncomfortable. Healing me, exhausting yourself for me, teaching me to read, these are not things enemies do for each other." 

Anders feels like the ground is shifting under him. Something happens here, but he isn't sure what. "That means we're friends?" he tries. 

"I would be honoured to be your friend." Fenris bows his head and Anders nearly chokes on his own breath.

"Don't... don't bow, not to me, or anybody." He keeps looking up at Fenris, trying find something he could say. "I don't quite —"

Fenris leans down and kisses him. It's a clumsy kiss, Fenris clearly doesn't have much practice and after the initial shock, Anders does what he knows best. He slides his hand into the hair at the back of Fenris' neck and kisses him back. 

When they stop, Fenris is nearly on top of Anders, his knee on the mattress next to him. They stare at each other. Anders wants to count the flakes of gold in Fenris' green eyes. 

"I just want to say," Anders says, brushing hair away from Fenris' face. "It's normal to be confused about feelings. When I’m with you, I feel afraid and safe at the same time. We don't have to have it all figured out right away." 

Fenris caresses Anders' cheek with his thumb. "It is confusing, the way I feel when I’m with you. But it feels like I can finally have something I was never allowed to have before." 

"I'll gladly be your token of freedom." Anders' heart beats so hard, he thinks Fenris must hear it. 

Fenris leans closer, his lips almost brushing against Anders'. "Maybe even more."

"Maybe even more," Anders whispers and surges forward to kiss Fenris again.

[skurdxd]

A disease called love.

dear .........,

i suppose I wrote hundreds of these letters filled to the brim with my words, yet I never really knew how to write that first word, especially when I wrote to women who possessed a tremendous amount of beauty. There will always be that slight crack in my heart that I do not have the privilege to be seen by such magnificent eyes of yours.

I know I do not have the right to plead forgiveness from a woman like you, love. but I must say sorry for not writing to you in such a long period of time.

I honestly don't know what's happening to me, but I've been going through something. It must be some form of sickness. It isn't constant, but it hits me like a truck. It's periodic and it effects me whenever my mind projects a specific image onto my heart. That image is ofcourse, those gleaming, dark, black eyes carefully painted on a beautiful canvas, which is your face. Those eyes, filled to the brim with a sick sort of darkness. It had some kind of force to them, that pulled my heart out of my body. My heart screamed to swim in your eyes, it wished to lay in your lap, looking at a beautiful painting, that is your face. My hands seized at the thought of caressing the gentle canvas that is your face and your skin. My hands swept through water to know how it must've felt to hold your face in my hands.

But the heartbreaking tragedy that is reality seethed down on me.

your eyes would never ever look at me. My heart will never ever lay in your lap,

My hands will never know the touch of your skin. My body ached to know that it would never know how it feels to have your soft cheek rested on my chest as we lay down on a pile of green grass, looking at the blue blue sky. My nose turned cold as it accepted its fate that it would never know the scent of your hair.

My eyes are turning blind knowing that they could never catch a sight of your gorgeous self. My lips turned pale realising that they could never kiss your hand.

And there is nothing that I can do about this sickness. No doctor can diagnose me nor treat me. They couldn't get rid of this disease. And I'm tired to bear this pain for so long.

Do you know what they call this disease, Love?.

Love you,

Skurd.

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

Relationship Snippet Tag

No one tagged me. I’ve just written two Phileo scenes for Houses Full of Deceit and I want to share them :D

The first one, AKA “it’s a beautiful day in Enniskillen and you are a horrible assassin”:

When Phil answered the door she expected to see the postman. She did not expect to come face-to-face with Seo Yo-han. Especially when she hadn’t known he was in the country.

“Oh! Hello,” she said, bemused. He’d brought someone with him. Someone who hung around in the background with his hat pulled down over his eyes. Phil jumped to the most likely conclusion. “Are you investigating another murder?”

“Yes and no,” Yo-han said, which didn’t make much sense. “I’ve brought, ahem, someone who needs a safe place to stay. For a few days.”

Phil gave him a Look. It was the sort of Look meant to say, If you think I'm going to take in a random stranger who is possibly involved in a crime at a minute’s notice, you’ve got another think coming. She opted for a more tactful remark. “I’m sorry, you must have written but I haven’t got your letter.”

“We didn’t write,” the stranger said. His voice was familiar. Very familiar.

Yo-han wisely stepped out of the way. Phil marched up to the “stranger” with a grim expression.

He continued to speak, but his voice grew more unsteady with each word. “We didn’t have... time... to write... because...” He trailed off as Phil stopped in front of him. He pushed his hat back to reveal his face.

It had been three years since she’d seen him. His hair was dyed brown. He had either grown a moustache or was wearing a fake one. He was thinner than she remembered. But there was still no mistaking him.

Leopold Colman smiled sheepishly. “Hello, Miss Patton.”

Phil stared at him.

Then she punched him in the face.

“’Hello, Miss Patton’?” she repeated furiously as Leopold staggered back. “You killed my aunt, got me arrested and could damn well have got me hanged, then you disappear for years, rarely answer my letters, and when you finally come back all you can say is ‘Hello, Miss Patton’?”

“I answered your letters as often as I got them,” Leopold protested. “I don’t exactly have a permanent address.”

“No, you’re too busy touring the world and killing people!”

The second one, AKA “what’s in a name?”:

“What is your real name?” Phil asked curiously.

Leo was silent for so long that she thought she’d offended him. When she looked over she saw he had his face scrunched up in a ridiculously-adorable thoughtful expression.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. Phil’s eyebrows shot up. He hurried to explain. “I was never christened. Everyone at the... er... everyone around my mother just called me “boy”. My mother called me Jack one day and Pete the next. I assume she meant to name me John Peter. I couldn’t exactly ask her. She... had a disease. That damaged her mind. Some days she didn’t recognise me at all.”

Phil didn’t know what to say to that. ‘And I thought my childhood was bad’ was too tactless.

“Where did Leopold Colman come from, then?” she asked instead.

“I just liked the sound of Leopold, and I got Colman from a mustard jar*.”

*Colman’s mustard, founded in 1814 and still produced today. (Out of universe Leo’s surname comes from Ronald Colman, but he hadn’t become famous yet in the 1890s, so I had to find a different namesake for Leo to choose in-universe.)

Tagging @elshells, @akindofmagictoo, @eccaiia, @late-to-the-fandom, and anyone else who wants to do this! :D

Adding Deceit’s taglist: @lightgriffinsect, @oh-no-another-idea, @kittensartswriting (Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

[springfallendeer]

Subnautica AU - Lore

Some lore I've managed to put together for the Subnautica AU. A story summary and some stuff describing the alien species that Sun/Moon/Eclipse are, among a few other things.

Its about 3500 words. So a bit of a read.

SUBNAUTICA AU

Background: (This AU takes place in the Subnautica reality but does not strictly follow anything pertaining to what was shown in the game. Basically, it is considered its own separate timeline. My idea is that Planet 4546B once acted as a sort of prison used to house exiled convicts. There is no disease going around causing extinction. A long gone alien race simply used to use the planet to house those that were banished for serious crimes. The special weapons used to shoot down space vessels was specifically built to shoot down vessels that would otherwise seek to rescue these convicts from their fate. They remained powered all these years purely as a result artificial constructs which were made to maintain it. These constructs can also maintain themselves.)

Pre-storyline)

The Earth is no more. A series of catastrophic events have resulted in a near global mass extinction, rendering the planet incapable of supporting human life. 99.97% of all plant and animal life have gone extinct. The landscapes have been left barren and the soil is no longer suitable for farming.

Humanity has taken to the stars en-mass for the sake of survival. Massive vessels containing nearly all of human civilization now float aimlessly in space, kept secure only by the slight tug of Earths gravity. The few humans that remain on Earth, remain there only for the sake of gathering essential resources; namely metal. They are sent supplies to maintain their own survival each time they send resources to the stars.

In the centuries that have followed, humanity has began searching the depths of space in search of other inhabitable planets that could potentially be called home. Drone satellites have been sent in all directions and are constantly monitored. These satellites relay information pertaining to discovered planets or solar systems.

Through this process, many planets proven to have life have been discovered. These planets have in turn been studied by more specialized drones, which are sent directly to said planets to gather information.

A planet will be determined to be theoretically inhabitable in the event that specific conditions are meant. The conditions are simple. The atmosphere must be similar enough to the atmosphere on Earth (meaning that humans could reasonably breathe the air), the planet must contain liquid water of, and there must be an established ecosystem consisting of multicellular life. If all of these conditions are meant, then it would mean that humanity could reasonably have access to breathable air, drinkable water, and edible food. The three most vital needs for survival.

Once enough data have been collected, smaller vessels containing up to 100 individuals each are sent to these theoretically inhabitable planets in order to set up small research colonies. These colonies are expected to set up residence on the planet. They will study the planet in person in order to research whether or not it is suitable for human life. The presence of potential prey means nothing if that prey cannot be reasonably eaten. The presence of water means nothing if it cannot be reasonably processed and used for drinking. A survivable atmosphere means nothing if the weather is so hostile that no shelter could be reliably built.

Main-storyline) - (I am undecided on if there will be multiple characters or on if this will be a reader-insert style storyline. I don’t mind doing them for shorter things but I often grow bored when writing reader insert stories. However, thanks to the situation there could be a bunch of different characters all stranded separately on the planet)

Our character is a researcher put aboard a small vessel of researchers sent through the depths of space in order to set up residence on a planet. The planet has only just been determined to be theoretically inhabitable, and is now ready for more in-depth observation.

The trip itself has no issues. The issues arrive when the vessel first breaches the atmosphere of the planet. A high-energy plasma based weapon found aboard the planet is discharged. With a singular blast, the research vessel is shot down.

Those who survived the initial blast take to escape pods. Those fortunate enough to be shot away from the planet into the depths of space might survive long enough to be rescued. The remainder are unfortunately set rocketing to the watery surface of the planet of 4546B.

Having survived the crash, our character must collect themselves. With nothing but an escape pod and a handful of essential survival supplies, they must find a way to keep themselves alive. All communications are down. It is unknown how many other researchers survived the catastrophe.

The only goal now is survival.

Species Information

Basic summary)

Poly-viathans: Polymorphic Leviathans, abbreviated to Poly-viathans. A species of “small” leviathans that may or may not be native to Planet 4546B. Named after their ability to take on different forms depending on their incubation conditions.

The various known forms of the Poly-viathans are not considered to be subspecies branching off from one specific ancestor. It has been observed that parents of one form may produce offspring that take on entirely different appearances. This is an evolutionary adaptation that allows Poly-viathans to quickly adapt to changes in their environment. This explains why the various known forms of Poly-viathans all grow at the same rate and reach the same size come maturity. This also explains why it is not uncommon for different forms of Poly-viathan to coexist in the same pod; genetically they are all the exact same species, they have just taken on different appearances for the sake of survival.

Poly-viathans are large, intelligent creatures which live in large groups, called “pods”. These pods are built up of multiple family units, containing multiple males, females, and any young which had been picked up by them. They communicate with one another through the use of various sounds, which are in the process of being translated to allow for easier human interaction.

They reach a maximum size of 10.2 meters, measuring from shoulder to the final segment of the spine. Certain individuals or environmental forms of the species may appear to be larger due to the presence of excessively large tail fins. They are an omnivorous predatory species which can hunt either alone or in groups. Different forms of Poly-viathan are prone to behaving differently when it comes to hunting.

It is unknown if the Polymorphic Leviathans are native to Planet 4546B, mostly due in part to their biology. The skeletal structure of the Poly-viathans contains evidence of them having previously been a land-dwelling species, which is quite unusual given that Planet 4546B is primarily covered in water and has very little above-water land. Vestigial remains of leg bones can be found in the pelvic region, and are used as a sort of anchor to bridge specific groups of muscles together.

In addition to this, the upper portion of their bodies could be described as humanoid in structure. Unlike other leviathan species native to Planet 4546B, the Poly-viathans have evolved hands. Four fingers and a thumb reside on each hand, with webbing connecting each to allow for better movement through the water. This further establishes that the species was once primarily land-dwelling and has since transitioned to a life in water. However, the presence of hands makes them unique. No other known fauna on 4546B has evolved the distinct four-finger and a thumb skeletal structure. Tentacles lined with powerful suction cups are the standard form of grasping-limb found on this planet.

The presence of hands paired with the obvious evidence of being a previously land dwelling species implies that the Poly-viathans are the descendants of another alien species which somehow became stranded upon 4546B. What that alien species was or if some modern day form of it still exists has yet to be found; but the evidence is there and it is strong. An additional question to go along with the theory; if the original land-dwelling alien species does still exist, would that make the Poly-viathans space mermaids?

Basic body structure aside, all forms of Poly-viathan share a number of very specific traits. Many of these traits appear to exist simply for the sake of vanity; meaning that the traits provide no survival advantage. Some of these traits could even be considered a hindrance. These family traits include:

A series of extra fins around the head, which form a crest like structure. The length of these fins will vary depending on the environmental form of Poly-viathan.

Small fins which connect to the lower eyelid. - A frill of fins around around the neck. This frill may or may not contain spines. - A fin (that may or may not contain spines) which begins at the back of the neck and trails down the length of the tail.

Extra fins on the arms. These fins begin at outer edge of the wrist and will trail all the way up to the elbow. These fins are often brightly colored, either red or orange.

Pelvic fins. These fins are long and wrap partway around the waist, while leaving the actual pelvic region exposed. These fins are often brightly colored, either red or orange. Adults will hide their young behind these fins to protect them from predators. Both males and females have these fins and have been observed protecting their young in this manner.

Two sets of tail fins. A set large, primary fins that makes up the back portion of the tail, along with a pair smaller fins which will precede it.

Three gills which line the chest region. These gills create red streaks which are easily spotted.

There are three known groups of Poly-Viathans, but it is highly likely that other forms exist that have yet to be discovered.

Extra stuffs)

Bright-water Poly-viathans: A form of Poly-viathan which is adapted to hunting in bright, open water environments. These leviathans most often come in bright, alluring colors. Their bodies will primarily be red, orange, or yellow and will be marked with white and brown streaks or spots. These bright colors exist as a warning to larger leviathans that they are unpleasant to eat.

Their head crests, neck frills, and back fins each contain any number of sharp spines. These spines contain a powerful neurotoxin. Exposure to this neurotoxin causes intense pain and will trigger extreme swelling. Swelling most often is triggered around the eyes, mouth, and throat, and takes days to reduce. The swelling in these regions is triggered regardless of where the neurotoxin was introduced to the body.

This form of Poly-viathan prefers to hunt in groups. Hunting parties will be as small as 2 individuals and will contain as many as 5.

This form of Poly-viathan most commonly has excessively large head crests, arm fins, and tail fins. These larger fins are less rigid and tend to flow freely with the water. Their pelvis fins remain sturdier in comparison.

The claws upon their fingers are relatively small.

The trigger for an embryo to develop into this form of Poly-viathan appears to revolve around regular exposure to light and reduced water pressure. Most often Bright-water Poly-viathans will hatch from eggs which have had regular/consistent exposure to sunlight, as associated with the day/night cycle. The reduced water pressure is believed to be significant as Dark-water variants have been noted as hatching from eggs kept in brighter environments, but only when these environments have had higher than average water pressure.

Dark-water Poly-viathans: A form of Poly-viathan which is adapted to hunting in dark, cramped environments. These leviathans most often come in dark colors and their bodies will be lined with a series of glowing spots or markings. Their bodies will primarily be blue, black, or purple. Their fins will often contain red, white, or yellow pigments. Their bodies will be covered in spots that release either a blue/white or yellow glow. These spots will form neat rows which follow the length of the body. Similarly glowing spots are likely to be present on the fins, though they will not be arranged in such a neat manner.

Their spines of their head and neck frills have been adapted to act as glowing lures. On some individuals, the small fins which connect to the lower eyelids also contain glowing lures. The arrangement of all of these lures is meant to coax prey closer to the face. Often times, white pigment on the face is used to help lure prey close to the mouth. Their mouths contain a neurotoxin which causes temporary paralysis. This neurotoxin is injected into prey through bites.

This form of Poly-viathan prefers to hunt alone. They retreat to a dark environment and wait for prey to approach, before attacking.

Their fin crest is largely reduced, and a large, tail like lure grows from the back of the head. This head lure is muscular and can be freely moved around. It is lined with the same neatly arranged glowing spots as found on the body, and contains a single large glowing bulb at the end. Often times, crest fins grow onto this specialized lure, creating a sort of false back fin.

The claws upon their fingers are on the larger side.

The trigger for an embryo to develop into this form of Poly-viathan appears to revolve around lack of light and water pressure. Most often Dark-water Poly-viathans will hatch from eggs which have been spent the bulk of their time in a dark environment with higher water pressure.

Seabed Poly-viathans: A form of Poly-viathan which is adapted to burring itself in the sand in order to ambush prey. These leviathans most often come in pale, sandy colors. Their bodies will primarily be brown, white, or green. Their fins will often contain red, pink, or and white pigments. They bury themselves in the sand, leaving only their fins present. Scavenging predators are often drawn to these exposed fins, as the mixture of pigment creates the illusion of fresh meat.

This group contains barbed spines only on their back and arm fins. Any prey item which gets close enough will be impaled by these spines, which disconnect from the main body to remain stuck in fleeing prey. These spines are used to inject a lethal neurotoxin into prey, and they release a strong smell that allows the Seabed Poly-viathans to track them down. Thankfully, this neurotoxin has been found to be ineffective on humans. Exposure to this neurotoxin will result in pain and swelling but is otherwise non-fatal.

This form of Poly-viathan neither hunts alone or in groups. Groups of them are prone to burying themselves in the sand, which often attracts larger, more desirable predators. Thanks to their social nature, regardless of who actually gets the kill, the bounty is likely to be shared.

The claws upon their fingers are on the larger side.

The trigger for an embryo to develop into this form of Poly-viathan appears to revolve around sand. Most often Seabed Poly-viathans will hatch from eggs which have been buried in sand during their incubation process. It is theorized that the presence of specific substances or bacteria in the sand is actually what triggers this development, as plenty of eggs which have been buried are liable to hatch as some other variant of the species.

Mutant Poly-viathans: Poly-viathans which have mutated and become larger, deformed chimeras as a result improper incubation. Because Poly-viathan forms are determined by their environment during incubation, a Poly-viathan egg which is not kept in a stable environment (or somehow held in a homeostasis of multiple environments) is liable to mutate. It is also theorized that the mutation is simply a side effect of a genetic defect that manifests as the development of multiple traits belonging to multiple variants. This mutation most often results in a larger size and the development in an additional set of arms. Additionally, these chimeras combine physical traits of two (or more) separate forms. This results in bizarre mixes of coloration and difficulty hunting, as their mutated bodies are not suited for whatever niche the individual form might fill. Few mutant Poly-viathans will survive into adulthood, as they are most often abandoned by adults and forced to endure on their own from birth. The only benefit is that their larger than average size and extra limbs means that when they do reach a moderate size, they are able to quickly establish themselves as powerful predators.

Adult Mutants are socially awkward due to a lifetime of isolation. It is unknown if they are rendered sterile as a result of their chimera status. No known cases of a Mutant Poly-viathan pairing off with another mutant or a non-mutant for sake of breeding has ever been studied.

Diet: Variation from hunting habits aside, all forms of Poly-viathan are predatory omnivores. They eat a mixture of plant and animal matter, with the balance between the two aspects generally being left up to the preferences of the individual.

Anything which can be hunted, will be hunted. Any plant considered edible will most likely be eaten. Small, medium, and large fauna are all subject to predation. Even eggs are considered a form of prey. They are even known to seek out and consume the eggs of other leviathan species.

Intelligence: The Poly-viathans communicate largely through body language and through a wide range of vocal sounds. None of these sounds resemble anything that could be considered human speech, and are closer to hums, squeaks, squeals, hisses, and growls.

However, all of these noises have been confirmed to equate to words, meaning that they can be translated. The translation process is in effect and some level of communication has been established with the Poly-viathans.

Additionally, it is theorized that the Poly-viathans could learn to mimic human speech with enough effort.

They are known to be able to use tools, and are most often seen creating carving tools from stone and netting from plants. Lack of better tools is a direct result of less access to the utilities that would allow them to create these better tools.

The Artificial Constructs

Bio-mechanical creatures inhabit specific areas of the planet, specifically the now empty prisons or the stations which house the weapons used to shoot approaching vessels out of space. They were created by an unknown alien race. One which has either lost interest in the planet, or gone exist, leaving them behind to go about their business despite their purpose now being obsolete.

These Artificial Constructs are both organic and machine. They have been designed in such a way that they are able to artificially replicate. They can maintain themselves on a mixture of food and sunlight, and are capable of repairing themselves. They have been specifically made this way in order to remove the need for non-convicts to visit the planet for the sake of their maintenance. Their bodies lack bones, and appear to be made of a sort of liquid energy. This gives them the ability to shapeshift to some degree. Their bodies glow a soft blue-green, with some areas glowing brighter to create the illusion of facial features.

They are highly intelligent and communicate telepathically. This allows them to communicate with virtually any creature regardless of potential language barriers. They come in a wide array of shapes, and are most prone to mimicking the features of previously housed convict races. So despite being largely aquatic, it is not unusual for them to have traits that could be described as mammalian, avian, or reptilian. They could even be considered artificial mermaids.

Despite their intelligence, they cannot really be reasoned with. They are a slave to their own design, and exist only to fulfill their purpose. Any non-native life is considered to be a prisoner. They exist to assure that prisoners remain on the planet. So any attempts to enter the planet are met with violence, and any attempts to escape the planet are likewise intercepted.

The prisons remain empty only because they have not been given any direct orders to imprison those who were shot down as a result of unintentionally encroaching upon the planet. Those who become stranded are largely left to their own devices, and will only be locked in a cell if they establish themselves to be a threat. Though even then, they will only temporarily be locked up.

Outside of needing to perform their duties, they are largely antisocial. This is not to say that they cannot be befriended; as it is indeed possible. They will provide medical care to those found wounded and shelter to those in need of it. But they will never set anyone free. Those who become trapped on the planet are doomed to die there.

[undertow-story]

PROLOGUE

SACHIEL

I’ve lived in this place for as long as I can remember now. Which is not very long in the scheme of things. I’ve been in the Undertow for at least a year and a half if I had to guess, but time doesn’t feel like it flows quite right down here.

My name is Sachiel… At least, this is the name I’ve given myself based off the ID I found in my pocket upon waking. I seem to have lost all memory of my former self, and given the information I have, I’m not from around here. If that wasn’t obvious enough, then I would have figured it out given the fact I am the only one of my kind.

I wish I knew what my kind was, admittedly. Claws. Fangs… Ears, cropped like that of the common mongrel leashed around by the thugs and bandits in this city. Tail and horns- piercing thin slitted eyes just like the creatures I hunt.

I must be a monster.

Not that it bothers me. It’s the only fathomable explanation I can assume anyway. I however, seem to be the only one capable of speech out of the creatures I’ve encountered so far. In this place, it’s kill or be killed obviously, as we’re overrun with horrific entities I cannot explain.

This world is best emphasized by the word ‘survive’.

Rather, uh… This sector is described that way. Look, I only know so much, but also it makes sense to me to write down the things I do know so far- in case my brain gets smacked around enough again to lose all the knowledge I’ve got.

The area I reside is called The Undertow, or just Undertow depending on who you talk to. We are the filth. Cast out from the glistening lights of the city above- we’re forced to live in the waste and squalor of the wealthy fucks put themselves above us. Our home is lit by neon, and is dark around every corner. Disease, Crime, Violence… it’s all rampant here. I have not yet seen the sun for more than 2 hours at a time. Which is unfortunate because the creatures residing here love the darkness. I feel pity for the people of this place. So many just trying to live their lives, get by…

Banished to this horrible place just because they’re not good enough by the standards of those above.

I don’t know the name of the place above us.

I’m not meant to. None of us are.

I saw it once from the outskirts when I left on a hit. The upper lands glow so blindingly bright, and it’s much smaller in comparison to the dredges below it. I personally don’t understand how they can live, I’d go blind. Y'know, how the pompous types are. They don’t care about us. The only time they need us is when they want someone dead…

Speaking of, that seems to be the case.

On a board bolted to a wall in the middle of a bustling market, Sachiel looks up from his book, closing it and putting it away as he takes a paper off the board, holding it in his rough hand. The paper reads: “Wanted: Hunter for removal of Important Persons, please send applications to xxxxx_xxx-x we await your chance to take on this ‘Golden Opportunity’.”

What specific wording.

“Reward: 10,000,000c”

Whoo, this guy must have really fucked up for them to ask a price like that.

Here, if you’ve got the skill then people will let you take on jobs for them… they generally involve killing. Usually it’s for monsters that rampage and cause destruction in specific sectors that threaten the foundations that hold the upper city aloft. Sometimes you get hits for persons- and other times you get hits for assholes like this. The ones up above.

I registered to be a Hunter some time back… maybe after a month of eating rats on the street. I decided I would rather at least be able to afford a beer here and there- maybe actual food instead of just whatever I could scrounge up. I don’t care to take on hits against persons- they don’t interest me… Humans aren’t fun to hunt. However, this is an awfully good deal. I could actually get an apartment instead of sleeping in whatever nearby dumpster I can find…

Never hurts to try I suppose.

His ears bent back, he headed off deeper into the city, clearly somewhere in mind.

Another day in paradise.

Tch-I gotta stop saying that it’s becoming a habit.

Next

[hedgewitchgarden]

Whispers in Podlasie - people's stories

Whispers in Podlasie are a little-discovered topic. Some believe, others deny. Today, however, I will not judge whether a visit to Szeptucha is a good or bad step. Being a native Podlasian, I used such services several times myself. Today I would like to share with you two interesting aspects. The first one tells about where Szeptucha's profession probably came from in Poland, and the second one about the stories of people who came to Szeptucha asking for help, e.g. healing from a serious illness.

Photo at the top of the article: Whisper Artemiuk Paraskieva heals with prayer, pours wax, burns flax, Parcewo, Podlasie / 2007 / Photo. Andrzej Sidor – Forum

Where did the profession of Szeptucha come to Poland?

It turns out that there have been Whispers in Russia for a long time, which ordered the disease. Ordering in colloquial language means conjuring, staving off a disease . An elderly woman endowed with knowledge passed down from generation to generation implements healing practices with prayer and, as some say, with the knowledge of magic. He directs his prayers to higher powers, such as God, Mary, Jesus and other saints, that they help in overcoming the disease.

The main success of the whole process is a properly selected formula. People say that for a prayer to work, it must be said in the right way. Whispers believe that "the word can become flesh". The whole rite is carried out by whispering or singing.

People who are struggling with a serious disease, for which doctors spread their hands, have come to Szeptuchy.

An example of words spoken by Whisperers

Words Spoken Against Rose Disease .

“Rose, rose, rose, run away! Flee the graves Free the living  Mary Mother of God Give the end of the rose.

Are there also men who heal?

Yes. They are called Whisperers, and sometimes medicine men. There are significantly fewer of them than Whisper.

How much does a visit to Szeptucha cost?

Whispers help everyone who asks for help. Well, unless the person in need shows arrogance and disrespect. The cost of the visit is free, but it is accepted that everyone gives "as much as they can". Szeptuchy spend part of their earnings on survival (food, bills), and the other part is donated to the local church.

Who can become a Whisperer or a Whisperer?

Only a person who has the secret knowledge of healing. The truth, however, is that the Whispers try to pass their knowledge from generation to generation so that it does not die with them.

The most famous Szeptuchy in Poland?

Doro wrote: Do you know the address? Monika writes: And I know stories about a lady from Orla who helped many people. There are many such stories! Personally, I have not been to her place, but I have seen cars with registration plates even from abroad, standing at dawn in front of her town. There was such a queue.

Beata writes: Serwinka was probably the best known. Elizabeth replies: She would still be taking if it wasn't for the pandemic. “In the Lublin region, in the town of Tarło, lives Serwinka, an elderly woman who, in a country cottage, receives people seeking help after fractures, sprains, with problems with the spine, joints and tendons, i.e. with general problems with the skeleton.

She is not a healer who performs witchcraft, miraculously cures incurable diseases, or brings the terminally ill back to life. He will not give us miraculously healing drugs or instruct us to perform prayers or rituals. You will not hear from her things like: "smear it with an egg, a worn rooster's claw at the time of the new moon." None of these things. The woman breaks bones and sets them alive. And it does it phenomenally. Doctors with their illnesses come to her, people who have encountered helplessness of doctors, people after incorrectly conducted hospital treatment, and even very famous sportsmen, receive help.

... continue to read: Stories of people who visited Szeptucha in Podlasie [...]

[mistydeyes]

oh.. maybe I could do too?

Idk where to start maybe.. I like animals yeah? I had 7 cats at one point I’m still too young to be a cat lady but I’d like to be one :) I’m also really good at cooking I make some great pasta. I’m good with kids and a social butterfly, shy at first but give me like an hour if I’m comfortable with you and you’ll see me blossom. I have good humor if I’m comfortable with the people I’m around I crack a few jokes, something about making people laugh and smile makes me smile too. I guess happiness is contagious

I’m 5’3 kind of hourglass body? I’m good looking even if I put in the work or if I don’t I don’t have any tattoos, I like modest wear and I always look clean and elegant the type of “not one stray hair out of place” person. and loooveee jewelry. A makeup freak but don’t wear it too often I try to stay natural :). Im an achiever I must try my best in everything.

Loooveee reading even if the book is shitty but something about flipping pages and getting into a diff world by just words is just ❤️. I also write some stories that aren’t published I’m good at poetry kind of? I’m a great performer on stage but get shaky. I’m a nerd.. you won’t tell but I am.

I’m sweet naively very confident some people call it cocky but I know who I am. I love to help and provide and aid, hence me getting into the medical field :). I’m very nice I’ve been told and I have a “welcoming and nurturing aura” a friend told me that. I’m actually very outspoken and my mom keeps joking about me becoming a Lawyer rather than a doctor.

Somehow people feel very comfortable around me and I feel very grateful to be their person at least :) it brings me joy knowing that someone trusts me and feels like they can tell me anything.

I love spicy food and anything sweet I have a sweet tooth I’m talking like 5 packs of sugar for ONE cup of tea. Oh shit I’m a tea drinker I hate coffee it tastes weird to me.

I love nature to a extreme point unless bug bites and mosquitoes bites are involved. I also love sightseeing. I enjoy my hectic life but also want to go home to peace and quiet. At the end of the day I can manage my life without a partner or with, I just want someone I can share peaceful silence with yk cooking in the kitchen with the cats watching.

Also I love ur writing :) !!

Thank you <3

John Price

How you met: Civilian You were enjoying a nice summer day in Brighton when you met John. You spent the day lounging along the rocky shores and dippy your toes into the brisk water. It was a much needed reprieve from your late nights trying to remember diseases and treatments. Eventually, you found yourself on the boardwalk and admiring the small trinkets at the various kiosks. As you tried on some sunglasses, a small child came running up to you and hit behind your legs. "Well hello there," you exclaimed and bent down to the child's height. The brunette girl smiled up at you as you looked around for her parents. "I'm hiding from my uncle," she whispered and you saw a flustered man trying to find the missing girl. You smiled at her before offering a hand. "Tell you what, let's get you to your uncle and I'll buy you a treat?" to this she smiled and followed you as you walked up to the man. He took off his hat and looked relieved when you returned your niece. "Found this one trying to hide behind a kiosk," you said as he gratefully shook your hand. "My sister's kid always finds a way to run off," he joked and held his niece's hand tightly. "I did promise her a treat for being so cooperative," you said and she ecstatically nodded. You pointed to an ice cream stand with a short line and the young girl ran towards it, with her uncle at her heels. While John tried to pay, you selflessly offered to pay for your two small cones and his niece's large ice cream cone with extra toppings for good measure. With sticky ice cream coating your fingers, you and John learned of your many shared interests and even exchanged contacts as his niece enjoyed her reward.

A peek into your relationship: John was always at awe at your interesting taste in food. For someone so polite and elegant looking, he would assume you were picky but you loved everything under the sun. Today, you had decided to spent dinner in your flat and you made him Spicy Southwest Bean & Corn Salad. He insisted helping you cook but you simply told him to just sit on the couch and entertain your new litter of kittens. As you saw John hold up their small ribbon toy, you called him to the dining room table. "I made yours not as spicy," you joked as he sat. You knew John had a low spice tolerance and he smiled gratefully at your mercy. As he chugged water after every bite, he looked shocked as you added more and more hot sauce to the salad. "You're crazy," he laughed as you enjoyed the meal, "have to say this is one of your best dishes." You thanked him as you continued your conversation about the latest novel series you were reading. Finally, you both finished and John kindly took your plates and cleaned up the kitchen as you settled on the couch with one of your kittens curled up next to you. "Want some tea, love?" he called and you readily agreed. When he returned with two mugs, you took one sip and your smile faltered. "No sugar?" you asked and he nodded seriously. "I think it would be a crime to add five sugar cubes," he stated and before you could get up to the kitchen, he pulled you in a comforting hug. "Not letting you out of my sight, sweetheart," he said and you accepted defeat before settling back down and continuing to read your novel in his comforting presence.