#its certainly periwinkle

[hinamie]

forget me not | 勿忘草

[sailorkamino]

sheltered

relatonships: geraskier x magic!reader [tangled au]

word count: 1.8k

summary: your village believed you to be born cursed and would have killed you, if not for stragobor. you've spent your whole life locked away in a tower but now you've got a chance for freedom in the form of a bard, a witcher, and an pretty horse.

warnings: stragobor, emotionally abusive parent, gaslighting, anti witcher prejudice, death/murder, pre relationship, emotional support dogs

a/n: my first time writing for the witcher! what do you think? i might turn this into a series <3

Spring is coming so you’re making new outfits for your beloved hounds. Which isn’t at all depressing no matter what that one judgemental bird thinks. Anyways you’re using golden yellow fabric for Honeysuckle and cool blue for Periwinkle. As is customary.

Then you sense them. Strangers. You become almost dizzy with fear and excitement. A type of desperation only experienced when you live in a forced solitude. You make your way to the window, desperate for a glance. It’s not like they’ll be able to see you. Your entire tower is invisible to outsiders.

“Hey, look at this tower.”

You choke on air. Your dogs leap from your bed to check on you (still in their winter sweaters.) You hold your breath as two people and a horse step into the clearing. Then you meet yellow cat-like eyes and you’re diving to the floor with a startled noise.

“Careful. Magic.”

One of them is mumbling but it’s drowned out by the sound of your rapid heart. Honeysuckle whines in concern, licking your face. Periwinkle takes a protective stance over both of you, growling out the window.

Father has always told you witchers are bloodthirsty savages. They’ll kill any innocent being for a profit. They know no morals, only violence. When you were born under a black sun your religious village wanted you dead. Father hid you away for protection. You’re not looking to relieve the witch hunt experience.

You mentally poke at the witcher, feeling out his aura. He doesn’t seem particularly beastly. Animals tend to be more shallow than people, all instincts and simple emotions. Surprisingly he doesn’t feel that.

A part of you has always questioned your father's prejudice. You stopped voicing it but the concerns remained. Father hates witchers because they kill beasts. If monsters can be good, why can’t witchers? An old argument resurfaces in your memory.

“Have you listened to a word I’ve said, child?” Father asks angrily. “You cry when a rat dies yet defend butchers.” You look away, embarrassed by his mocking tone.

“This is why you stay in this tower. You’re too naïve for the outside world.”

You wonder if that’s the real reason he keeps you locked away. You’re capable of defending yourself now. So is he really protecting you? Or is he protecting the world? All because you were born under a black sun. Why must you be punished for being different? Why must witchers?

You think of the villagers who looked at a crying orphan and saw a threat. Who saw killing an infant as a lesser evil. You don’t want to be like that. Privately you wonder why your mentor sees compassion as a weakness but you’ve learnt it’s better to agree with him. “Yes father. I’m sorry.”

“No need to fear us. I’m Jaskier the bard, master of the seven liberal arts, and this is my companion, Geralt of Rivia! Could you give us directions to the nearest town?” The colorful man calls out.

Your heart races until you feel dizzy. So this is the butcher. The most beastly and cruel of all the witchers. He’s… underwhelming to say the least. Certainly least nightmarish and more dreamy than you imagined. But you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. You take a calming breath, petting your hounds to ground yourself.

The primal fear inside of you is wrestling with your desire for a real life conversation with a stranger. This could be your chance to hear both sides of what happened in Blaviken. Father always says you’re too naïve but only tells you his point of view. You’re almost sick with nerves when you blurt out rather loudly, “I wouldn't know. I’ve never been in the forest before.”

There’s a long pause and you can sense confusion. Have you already messed up? You don't want them to leave. Well the witcher can go, but the colorful one seems nice. You pop your head back into view, “I don’t leave my tower. I’m sorry. I… like your horse.” Compliments make you friends right?

“Don’t leave or can’t?” A much gruffer voice asks. You shiver. (He didn’t even say thank you for the compliment, how rude.)

“I’m safe here.” The words sound unconvincing to your own ears. You tell yourself it's because of fear. Not because you’re beginning to question them.

“Who says?”

“My father.”

They share a concerned look. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It sounds quite childish when you say it out loud. But you’ve been persecuted before, you aren’t about to let your guard down around a hired killer. So… why are you still talking to him?

Then you notice the brunet’s instrument. What a lovely change of subject. “Is that a lute?”

“It is!”

You’re practically jumping now. Honeysuckle, picking up on your excitement, smacks you with her wagging tail. “I’ve never heard a bard before! Play me something?”

Jaskier goes impossibly sad. You frown, hating the kicked puppy expression. What did you do wrong? Maybe you should just stick to socializing with animals. At least the rats find you charming.

“You’ve never heard music, my dear?”

Your face goes hot, both at the endearment and the pity in his voice. “I have lots of instruments but I don’t think I’m very good. Being self taught and all.”

“Why don’t I come up and give you a lesson? Free of charge!”

Your stomach twists in knots. You don’t know what’s more terrifying. Your new friend coming inside or leaving you to loneliness. You avoid eye contact when you answer. “My father wouldn’t like that.”

“What would you like?” The witcher asks sternly. You freeze. No one has ever cared what you wanted before. Is that concern you sense from him? Sympathy? From a so-called beast? Your silence seems like an answer enough. “So can’t leave,” he concludes.

“Can others enter?” Jaskier asks curiously.

You don’t know why you answer but you do. “Only with a portal. There’s no door.”

“But there’s a window.”

You frown. Obviously there’s a window, you’re talking out of it right now. Maybe your new friend is a little slow.

“Rope?” he proposes to the witcher.

Your mouth drops open. A rope? That’s it? Years of isolation by a warlock solved with a fucking rope? It can’t be that simple. It just can’t be. “My father is very powerful,” you warn. “And he hates witchers.”

“Him and most of the continent,” the man grumbles dryly. For some reason you feel guilty. Years of indoctrination to hate his kind, forgotten in mere minutes. Maybe you really are naïve.

“Who’s your father, dear? Maybe we know him?”

You sincerely hope not. “Stregobor.”

Dead silence. Then a very empathetic “fuck.”

Your stomach sinks. That’s the most emotion you’ve heard in the witcher’s voice so far and it doesn't sound good. Will they judge you for your fathers deeds? Wait, why are you assuming your father’s in the wrong? Since when did he become the bad guy? (Maybe he always has been but you’ve ignored it.)

“Let me guess, you were born during a black sun?” He asks flatly.

You feel as if a rug has been pulled out from under you. The comfort that’s been growing disappears, replaced with icy fear. You don’t even know this man yet you still feel betrayed. “Are you here to kill me?” You ask, slightly wobbly.

He sighs tiredly. Maybe he gets asked that a lot. “No. You aren’t fucking cursed. You were born during an eclipse. A completely natural phenomenon. A bunch of old bastards made up that curse for power and control.”

Your jaw drops, conflicting emotions raging inside of you. If he’s right you’re not cursed, which is great. But it also means your father has betrayed you. Your whole life can’t be a lie. It just can’t. A sinking part of you knows he’s making sense, even wants to believe him, but you desperately ignore it.

“I hurt people,” you confess abruptly.

“I thought you never left this tower?” Jaskier asks.

“When I was a baby.”

The witcher raises an unimpressed brow. “Did Stregobor tell you that?”

You growl in frustration as a strong wind rustles the trees. Jaskier looks around in bewilderment but the witcher holds your steady gaze. Not easily frightened by your show of power or glowing eyes.

“I’ve met a lot of monsters. You’re not one.”

The words you’ve always longed to hear. Uttered by the man you’ve been taught to hate. You take a moment to collect your flurry of emotions before answering. “Funny,” you smile weakly, “I was gonna say the same thing about you, witcher.”

You steady yourself before asking the next question. Knowing it won’t be easy but needing answers. The more you talk to Geralt the more you question what you’ve been taught about witchers. Maybe you don’t want him to be a monster. Maybe you’re so lonely you don’t care if he is.

“Tell me about Blaviken.”

“What?” His voice is somehow gruffer. Face horribly blank and posture rigid.

“Every story has two sides, yet I’ve only heard my father’s.”

He sighs deeply. Then begins. He tells you about Renfri. A princess born under the black sun. Her step mother was looking for a way to get rid of her and the curse was convenient. Stregobor agreed the girl was an evil mutant that must be isolated but her step mother wanted her dead. Together they ruined her life.

Renfri evaded them. She spent years being hunted, until she became the hunter. Eventually she formed a gang of sorts and tracked Stregobor to Blaviken but couldn’t enter his tower. (Apparently the idea of living in a tower forever was very distressing to your father. You don't know if you should laugh or vomit.)

Both Renfri and Stregobor asked Geralt to kill the other but he refused, not wanting to get involved. Although he hated Stregobor he tried to talk the princess out of revenge. It was too late. She threatened to kill townspeople until the warlock came out.

Your heart sinks at the ultimatum. Your father has never been a compassionate man. By the grim look on the witcher’s face he knew it too. In the end Geralt did what Stregobor wanted him to do. Instead of payment or thanks he was branded a butcher.

The fear-shame-grief rolling off of the witcher (definitely not emotionless by the way) is enough to make your eyes sting. Your gaze settles on Jaskier, who’s gone into full sad puppy mode. You have a feeling he’s never heard the full story either. You clear your choked throat.

“You mentioned a rope, good sir?”

[yuri-is-online]

Shades of You (Jade Leech x Reader)

a/n: They/Them pronouns used, Yu is a crafty bitch in more ways than one, references/spoilers (kind of) for Jade's birthday boy card. Events are implied to take place over winter break, but the events of ch. 4 aren't mentioned

warnings: typical Jade behavior, established flirtationship, mutual pining, mutual mild thirst

Jade was rather fond of simple looking things.  The more understated an object the more challenging it is to create, and the more curious its purpose.  The journal was just one of many such objects Jade owned, its sleek gray cover certainly fit with the overall aesthetic of the other things he owned.  A neatly woven cord made of purple and periwinkle thread wrapped around the book keeping it closed, and if you looked especially closely at the lower right hand corner you would see a set of initials, J.L., nestled neatly next to a date.  It was clearly meant to match the aesthetics of his dormitory, not that you actually needed to examine or speculate to know any of this.  You had been the one who made it.  

“I’m surprised you’re actually using this.”  you say, trying your best to hide the embarrassment as you innocently pick up the journal from its place on Jade’s desk.  

“Oh?  Who said I was?” Jade playfully teases as he gently, but firmly grasps your wrist to prevent you from actually opening the book.  Not that you intended to, you weren’t stupid, but seeing him be so defensive over it did make you a bit curious.

“You.”  his smile gets wider and his grip on your wrist firmer.  He forcefully pulls your hand and the journal into his chest, moving his larger one to cover yours as he purposefully deepens his voice.  

“Careful prefect, you never know what sort of things lurk in the depths of Octavinelle.”  You laugh to cover how flustered he’s making you and quickly pull yourself (and your hand) back to your homework.  

“Dude your birthday was a week ago, just how much dirt have you crammed into that thing already?”  Jade just gives you a toothy smile as he tucks his gift just out of your reach on his side of the desk and you huff.  And if you spend the rest of the night sneaking glances at him under the guise of making a swipe at the journal, well you keep that to yourself.

~~~~

There hadn’t actually been anything in the journal when Jade decided to play keep away with you.  He hadn’t decided on what he wanted to use it for yet, an unfamiliar sensation but not unwelcome.  Jade had never really understood what his human classmates had meant about not wanting to “ruin” a particularly nice or unique looking set of stationary, but he certainly did now.  As much as he liked it when things did not go to plan, Jade had very little patience for his own imperfections.  He knew it was foolish to expect himself to make flawless field sketches when he had only just started, but he couldn’t bring himself to deface the little journal with his practice, even if that’s exactly why you had made the journal for him.  Which was precisely the problem; you had made him a gift, and while he wasn’t naive enough to think you meant anything… specific by it, he still felt deeply flattered.  Handmade gifts are especially treasured by merfolk, meant to serve as a way to display one's talents and finer points when pursuing a mate.  Not that he thinks he’s being courted, Vil had also given him a handmade gift and you had given some socks you’d made to Floyd, something that made him a lot more jealous than he wanted to admit.  Still, you had seemed very… flattered by the thought of him actually using the journal.  Maybe just as flattered as he was to receive it, and just like that he finally lands on something he does find acceptable to practice drawing in the journal.   

~~~~

“‘M sorry in advance for not talking much.”  you focus extra hard on not dropping the ghost camera while double checking your photography equipment.  “I’m excited about the hike, promise, Grim just was talking in his sleep last night and it kept me up.” 

“I’m simply pleased you could join me on such short notice, prefect.”  You shrug your pack up onto your back and nod, but Jade does not move to set out immediately, he just stares down at you.  Odd, you know he’s not exactly a morning person but he can at least function properly if he needs to.  Before you can ask what’s wrong he reaches for one of your straps, pausing just before he actually touches it.

“May I?”  You nod, wide awake now but not trusting your voice.  Part of you wonders vaguely if he knows the effect he has on you, if he’s doing this on purpose, or if this all just a coincidence and there really is a problem with how you set up your pack.  You know what he’d say if you asked him, his eyes are practically sparkling with mischief silently daring you to ask.  Well too bad, you are not going to take the bait.  Yet.  The day’s still early and you agreed to spend practically all of it with him so you’re sure he’ll make another pass at… whatever this is again at some point.  He pats your shoulder before he withdraws, beckoning you to follow him into the mountains.  If he notices any sign of fluster as you chase after his touch it doesn’t show on his face.

Jade had invited you to check out the Mountain Lover’s Club on multiple occasions.  He invited pretty much everyone who showed mild interest in it, something that just made people even more suspicious of him than they already were.  Sure, Jade was widely considered to be the less scary twin, but he was still a Leech, and, perhaps more importantly, still the Vice-Warden of Octavinelle.  Taking him at face value was, to be blunt, stupid.  Something you liked to think you werent, but you know this habit of joining Jade on his hikes doesn’t help your case.  There were a hundred little places you spotted on your way up to this new location alone that he could ditch your body in the woods and make a very convincing case for why it was definitely an accident.  But you couldn’t see a reason for him to do that, and if there was one thing you were very confident that you knew for a fact about Jade, it was that he never did anything that wouldn’t benefit him or his dorm in some way.  

That and you really did like hiking.  The woods aren’t going to ask you why you’re here, they just exist secure in their own beauty.  If you have to pal around with one of the sketchiest guys on campus to find some peace and serenity then no one should be allowed to judge you for it.  

“Ah here we are.”  the two of you stop in front of a truly massive rock formation, you’re pretty sure it would even tower over Malleus, that forms a sort of natural shelter at the center of a steep valley.  It’s breathtaking, your hands immediately move to the ghost camera for an overlooking shot; Jade watches, patiently waiting for you to finish before helping you down.  

“Do you mind if I sketch a bit before foraging?’’  You barely register his question, already fishing around for the best lighting.

“Hm?  Oh no, take your time.”  Jade heaves himself up onto the top of the rocks and you definitely do not pause to admire the way his jacket rides up just enough to show you his toned stomach.  No no, the only thing you’re pausing to peep at is a familiar little gray book.  “Oh so you are using your gift to doodle,” you laugh “here I thought you were collecting blackmail.”

“Only on you.” Jade responds with a conspiratorial grin that would send anyone else running for the hills.  It really is such a shame you’re already there.

“Really rude of you to not invite me out here sooner.”  you make a point to exaggerate your pout and get the amused reaction you were looking for.  “It’s going to start snowing soon, and where will I be then?  Trapped inside Ramshackle devoid of weird plants to photograph.”

“You are more than welcome to come visit Monstro Lounge if you feel so deprived.”

“No thanks, I have enough pictures of Floyd to fill two albums.”  you snort and Jade pauses his sketching for a brief moment.  

“All the more reason to visit.”  Any amusement from earlier is gone and you try to avoid breaking into a cold sweat; his voice is pure ice. “I’m sure you’ll find something to expand your portfolio.”  

“W-what about you then?”  you nervously laugh.  “I mean it’s got to suck to start making sketches and not being able to go out in the field anymore.”

“It does,” he’s back to being pointlessly dramatic for his own amusement thank god, “I was hoping to get in some more practice and produce something passable.”

“I’m sure they look fine.” and while you do genuinely mean that you can’t help but roll your eyes.  “If you’re really that concerned you can always download some pictures from my magicam to use as references.” 

“Oh?  Are you sure that’s an offer you want to make, prefect?”  

“Not when you word it like that, but I won’t take it back.”  Jade laughs, out loud this time, and you again remind yourself that despite what other people might say you are a perfectly reasonable and intelligent person even though you aren’t currently sprinting for safety.

~~~~

Despite your teasing complaints, Jade did manage to find a way to get you both back into the woods a few more times before the snows properly set in.  And against your better judgment you do find yourself hanging around the Lounge more, you tell Ace and Deuce it’s just to take pictures of the aquariums but you know Ace at least doesn’t believe you.  Deuce just likes seeing the pictures of the fish.

“You’re right those two really do look like they’re up to something.”  he mutters and you nod vigorously.

“Sketchy bastards, look how fat they are. I bet they’re hoarding food.”  

  The gray journal keeps making appearances too, and you know you should just be grateful that he’s this fond of your gift but it’s starting to get weird.  Almost like he is trying to bait you into asking what he’s drawing in there.  Like now while you’re showing Deuce the fat bass in the Octavinelle tank, you feel his gaze on you but it’s gone by the time you get around to looking up at him he’s back to focusing on the notebook in front of him and you sigh.  “I really never should have made him that book.” 

“Nah giving it to him was fine.”  snorts Ace.  “Hanging around him was the mistake.  Seriously, what do you think he’s looking at?”

“Deuce and I?”  really what else could he be looking at, if looks could kill you would be six feet under Ace’s disappointment right now.

“Well you’re half right I guess.”  he says, shaking his head.  “Just- try not to be too stupid while we’re gone right?”  

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen.”  Grim snorts.  “My henchman’s taste in men is as bad as Deuce’s grades.”  You and Ace both start sputtering for different reasons, while at a table across the cafeteria Azul looks at Jade with an equal level of disappointment.

“Just what are you smiling about?”  

“Oh nothing in particular.”  

~~~~

Azul doesn’t exactly keep the lounge open over winter, but the dormitory’s student lounge is still in working order and much comfier than Ramshackle's dusty couches. You had intended to spend the first few days of winter break being boring and forcing Grim to do his homework, but the little rat was having absolutely none of that and had, surprisingly, formed an uneasy alliance with Floyd.  The second you looked away from your little buddy he’d dashed to seven knew where.  You weren’t actually as familiar with the depths of Octavinelle as certain friends of yours assumed you were.  Jade had offered you assistance in locating your charge, but he wasn’t exactly being helpful.   On purpose you assumed.

“If you are that determined to do away with your schoolwork you can always stay here with me.”  His smiles are always sardonic, but this one has a special sort of edge to it that screams he has something planned.  “No need to go chasing rats.”  For you or his twin, you wonder with a nervous laugh as you fiddle with your backpack.

“It’s not really me I’m worried about.  Grim always puts things off till the last minute and as his dorm prefect I really should be trying to teach him some responsibility-”

“I’m sure he’s learning a lot about making responsible choices from Floyd.”  The look you give Jade is less than enthused, and the sniffle he responds with is less than real but it distracts you just enough that you don’t realize he’s been steering you towards his and Floyd’s shared bedroom.  “Please prefect, it hurts to see you so distressed, I feel like a failure of a host.  Why not take a brief break, I’ll make us some tea.”  

“How very generous of Mr. Leech.”  you say in complete monotone.  “I’m so grateful.”  

“I prefer benevolent.”  he says miraculously cured of all distress as he opens the door to his room and waves you inside.  He saunters off and you carefully make your way over to Jade’s side of the room, dodging Floyd’s dirty laundry and trash not wanting to be accused of “stealing” a three month old chip wrapper and charged “compensation.”  The pale blue light of the magical ocean casts a dreamy glow over the room, but you wouldn’t call it cozy, especially since this is the first time you’ve been allowed anywhere in Octavinelle alone.  That answers your question from earlier you guess, Jade was messing with you today.  And then that’s when you see it, sitting on the exact same side of the desk it had been around a month ago just after you gave it to him  Back when you accused him of collecting blackmail. 

It’s bait.  It has to be bait, there’s no way Jade would ever leave the journal out for you to look at unless he was wanting you to see it.  Probably so he can snatch it out of your hands just as you get a glance of something scandalous so he can gaslight you into thinking you were the worse person.  Why exactly did you like this guy again?  Maybe Grim was right and you really were hopeless.  You stare at it.  Glare at it.  

And snatch it up without another second 's hesitation.  You made the damn thing, if it were a child you would be entitled to partial custody right?  And just as you are cursing at yourself for that atrocious analogy your thought process stops dead in your tracks when you see what’s inside.

The pages were covered in sketches of you.  Taking photos of the rocks, waiting tables at the lounge, numerous studies of your face at all angles with all manner of expressions.  You recognize some of the poses he’s placed you in as pictures you’d posted to magicam, there’s even one where you know you’d been cuddling Grim but Jade’s neglected to keep him in the picture.  There are scribbled notes next to sketches, silly things really just serve to bury you deeper into your embarrassment.  A note on your favorite color, a movie you posted about hating, lists of teas and comments you made about their taste, the good ones highlighted and the bad crossed out, hikes he wanted to take you on and on the most recent page-

“Oh?  Now what have we here?”  Jade’s arm loops around your waist, hand gently tipping up your head to look at him.  “We’ve been over this little prefect, you need to be careful.  Dangerous things lurk in the depths of Octavinelle.”

“Yeah I’m looking at him.” you huff, there really is no hiding your embarrassment so you resign to relaxing into his arms, and you can see him puffing up with pride at your attention.  His hand moves to gently cup your cheek and you press a small kiss to his palm.  “You really suck you know that right?  I could charge you for stuff like this.”

“And what is your asking rate, little shrimp?”  he whispers into your ear.  “I do seem to recall you giving me verbal permission, but I seem to have neglected to get that in writing.  How careless of me.”

“You could start by actually kissing me.”  And he laughs, actually fully laughs, breathless and filled with a genuine delight that warms your whole body to the tip of your toes.

“Well now, if you insist.”  he presses his first kiss to your head before he gently, slowly, turns you to face him.  “I do hope you’re prepared to collect my debt in full.”

[ihopesocomic]

Do you think you would've enjoyed My Pride more if it hadn't leaned so heavily on "realism" to explain the more gruesome and harsh aspects of its lore/story? One of the main things I enjoy about this comic is that, while you both keep things simple with no accessories on your lions (aside from Periwinkle's collar, which seems to be a plot element), you're also not trying to be painfully realistic. Gives me a Warrior Cats feel when it comes to the "looseness" of the world, if that makes sense?

Most likely not as there was also the complete mishandling of the "disability positive" and "LGBT+ friendly" aspects of the series. Amongst other things... like Hover. Just Hover. lol

It certainly would've been less damaging to its child audiences if it didn't tout itself as being about "actual lion behaviour" while getting 99% of its "facts" completely wrong, because now you have its fans legit believing that - for example - lionesses don't care when their cubs are killed by rogue males when there's footage demonstrating the opposite. Another thing is that the inclusion of religion to explain these "natural" behaviours was confusing as well as being borderline offensive to those who are religious. Why use a human concept like religion to explain what you perceive to be a lion's "natural" behaviour? Especially the more brutal aspects of said behaviour. If your whole deal as an atheist is to be scornful as possible towards religion and try and paint it as the source of all issues in the world by doing so with your fictional world: leave that shit be.

So, yeah, the show would've been slightly less problematic without this aspect of its lore but it still would've had the glaring issue of falsely presenting itself as empowering to minorities. And thank you, anon. I sorta get what you mean. We do try and give a lot of leeway to folks who wish to play about with our worldbuilding, we just draw the line at interacting with humans and getting human trinkets. I hope that Periwinkle's backstory and the whole thing with him being a former pet will make our stance more clear but yeah, humans should leave wild lions be. - RJ

[iseethatimicy]

Cooking with Tsumsted Wonderland

Note: I think my last post was in Jan 27... So hi take this! (Reader uses They/Them pronouns and are gender neutral.) Characters: Tsum Riddle Rosehearts, Tsum Trey Clover, Tsum Floyd Leech Genre: Fluff and a bit of crack

You've been seeing videos about baking a variety of cakes and your friend's birthday is coming up. So what better way than to make one for them? Just as soon as you borrowed a recipe book from Trey, a curious small thing squeals, interested in what you're doing. You got yourself into this mess so now, you'll have to finish it but with a special guest..

Oh Tsum Riddle, always so demanding. He squeals angrily at you to stir faster, to mix faster, to knead the dough harder. He isn't even helping other than being a pressure head like that birthday cake is meant to be for him. No Twist-tube Tutorials, No Recipe book that Trey handed to you, No help from other students!

That damn little tsum wants a Strawberry Cake and you're forced to obey him. You had no other choice than to get a red and white icing bag, a bowl of fresh red strawberries, a carton of eggs, etc. Hell, it's not even Riddle or his birthday!

You're stirring the bowl so fast it might spill all over on the kitchen island just as how that unhinged plush toy likes it, knead the dough as slow as Rook Hunt listening carefully to your breathing unless you want to bitten by him.

Eventually, you finish the cake. It was 3 layers tall and you tried as hard as you can to make it similar to the delicious ones Trey makes. You were tired from all cooking and decided to get a chocolate snack from the School's Mystery shop. Surely the tsum will be a good plush toy and certainly won't devour the entire thing, right?

When nobody is looking, the Tsum Riddle can't help himself from taking a small bite from the delicious looking cake. Although it's a little cheeky and sneaky, He's just tempted by the delicious smell of the delicious strawberry cake and the fact that it looks so cute and edible too.

Well Tsum Trey's got your back! He's giving out the icing bags Trey uses, the crimson stained knife that totally came from cutting a piece of strawberry cake, the strawberries and bee-shaped candies...

He was surprisingly calm and patient little tsum unlike the demanding crimson haired tsum tsum, He helps knead the dough, carry the plate of candies, help with the cake decorations.

The cake was finished and had a special key to it! First layer represented dorm your friend is assigned to; Diasomnia. It had a green base and had black icing shaped like thorns wrapped around the sides of the cake, It looked exactly like the dorm.

The second layer was a sweet bee theme and had a mellow yellow color on its base. The tsum trey who assisted you seemed to be proud of honey taste and its bee motifs, almost likes its his favorite.

The third layer was the dorm they wanted to be in; Octavinelle. It had a periwinkle base and detailed tentacles used in a ribbon design, draping from dull lavender colored bows with black stripes on them. The layer seemed to be themed around the sea.

He stared at you while laying on the cutting board lazily. Azul had let you use Octavinelle's Kitchen oh so kindly with a price. He's so helpful providing you with tools but so annoying for demanding so much attention, He's a very needy little tsum tsum.

You were thinking of doing a simple two-layered chocolate cake. You had to keep petting the Floyd tsum every 10 minutes so it definitely won't crush your wrist. He was squealing and cuddling onto you, begging for just a small slice of the chocolate cake.

Whilst you were adding lilac-colored decorating on the sides, the tsum tsum had latched on your hand and bit into it, causing the icing to spill all over the kitchen island. You glared at the tsum angrily and set it aside, going to find a bucket of water and a mop along with a new icing bag.

He squeals apologetically as you left the kitchen. Well, since now that you're gone, he can at least get a small, teeny bite of the cake. surely you'll be fine with it, right? When you get back, your jaw drops as you see half of the chocolate cake being gone while the tsum squeals happily, rolling around at how it tastes good. Let's just say the tsum is.. err..

© ISEETHATIMICY. I do not consent for my work to be plagiarized, repost, or translate without permission. If you would like to make a similar idea, please credit me.

[tilynation]

The Alcott

Taylor’s feature on The National’s “The Alcott” was released on April 28, 2023.

The Song is About Two Lovers Reconnecting

The Lyrics Were Painted on the Sidewalk in Select Spots in NYC as Part of Promo for the Song

In late May 2023, fans began noticing the lyrics to the song in select spots in NYC. The four known locations are very interesting - outside Taylor’s old Cornelia Street townhouse, Electric Lady Studios (where Taylor has recorded many songs, including several songs on Reputation and Lover), Washington Square Park (a popular park near Cornelia Street), and Katz’s Deli in the East Village.

Are these the places the lovers returned to (metaphorically or physically) trying to relive a moment in time?

Cornelia Street

The Cornelia Street townhouse was a big part of the Tily Autumn of 2016.

Collage credit to @periwinkle-musings

Katz’s Deli

Why Katz’s Deli? It’s one of Lily’s favorite places and only a few blocks from her Avenue B East Village apartment.

“Golden Notebook” and “Golden Thinking”

Matt wrote a vocal and Taylor rewrote the lyrics, according to Aaron Dessner’s interview with Vulture. Matt seemed to imply to Apple Music that he wrote the verses and Taylor wrote the chorus. Either way, both agree Taylor played a big part in the lyrics. Which leads to, who came up with all the “golden” references in the song? It’s certainly interesting considering the “Dress” lyrics, Lily’s wrist tattoo of the word “golden” in Latin, and the golden tattoo both Tily girls wore during the Tily Autumn of 2016 when the “London lover” came into existence.

Coney Island

The other song Taylor did with The National is “Coney Island,” with its references to “Delicate” (where Taylor wore the golden tattoo in the “Making of a Song” video, with its “Dive bar on the East side, where you at?” lyrics (from the same interview Lily mentioned Katz’s Deli above - link), and where Taylor famously spread her legs on the Cadillac Fleetwood in the music video - all Lily connections to me), lyrical reference to the Bowery Hotel (“Were you waiting at our old spot, in the tree line by the gold clock” - also mentioned in Lily’s interview above and where Taylor and Lily were papped leaving in October 2016), and the person who Taylor did not make her centerfold (a model reference).

Credit to @fleur-de-puissance for giving me this tip about The Alcott!

[moth-like-habits]

Sunshine in a Smile

ethubs, 591 words

Here's it on ao3

Etho thinks Bdubs looks like the Sun. It’s ridiculous really, a bit too on the nose- believe him, he knows. Sleeps through every night, golden skin and shining eyes, yes of course Bdubs looks like the Sun. Etho’s even heard the stories from the trip through the rift: “Etho! Oh you won’t believe it, I became the god of the sun!” The cloak he came back in shimmered with every step he took but it couldn’t have shone brighter than the smile on his face when he told Etho everything that happened in the other world. They were in the ruins behind the monolith where Etho had started a small garden. He beamed and explained the wonders of improv as Etho tended the tulips, periwinkles, and dwarf sunflowers (yes, mini sunflowers. Etho may joke that it’s about his height but the creases in the corners of Bdubs eyes hid a knowing smile). They sat in the garden until the sun was setting and if seeing him glow in golden hour took Etho’s breath away then no one needs to know. Glowstone, sunbeams, and joy making him truly celestial. By the void, if Etho didn’t believe Bdubs became a god before he certainly did then. Yet the end of the day left Bdubs yawning and fighting to stay awake and talk- it took only a little convincing before Bdubs went to bed. 

That leads to now: Etho sitting on the front steps of the monolith, redstone blueprints abandoned in the kitchen. If Bdubs is the sun, then Etho is convinced he’s the moon. It makes sense, honestly, a bit too on the nose. As opposed to the warm summers of the sun the moon brings thoughts of a quiet winter chill. Cold and far away, without a light of its own. Not always, Bdubs would say, I think about warm summer nights and fireflies. Nights like this one, Etho supposes. There’s a soft pleasant breeze stirring through the leaves and creating the perfect atmosphere to sit outside and think. He looks up at the moon now- almost full, bringing a dim illumination to the birch forest around him. The moon reflects the light of the sun and well, Etho always seems the brightest when they’re together. Etho’s content to be the moon. 

Bdubs suggested he add ferns to the garden: “Well fine! if you had to put me in there then you should put yourself. Some fern or something.” Etho played it off as a jab at being boring, but he’s certain Bdubs heard the smile in his voice, saw the softening of his eyes. Being direct never really was their strong suit.  With a sigh, Etho stands up and heads back into the monolith and up to the kitchen. While he would admit it to no one, Bdubs is not a morning person. And so, Etho sets out his beloved mug (it’s a wonky shape and a familiar mossy green- not Etho’s best work but Bdubs insisted on keeping it) and fills the kettle with water to leave till morning. Coffee grounds are set out, right beside their old coffee maker. Easy enough for tired hands to move through the motions beyond half closed eyes (the sun will not rise without caffeine). With everything carefully prepared, Etho heads upstairs, finally tired enough to sleep. The moon must rest too.

Etho thinks Bdubs is like the Sun. Bright laughter, kind eyes, and plenty of warmth to share. And if that’s a bit too on the nose? Well, no one needs to know.

[mouschiwrites]

I’ve been inspired to try writing for Steven Universe by the lovely @digitalsiience!! I’ve always loved that show, so it was fun to experiment with some different characters/dynamics!!

Word count: 937

Steven Universe - The Agate and The Sapphire (Holly Blue Agate)

You smoothed your skirts as you stood, making your way to the ramp leading down to the hangar bay. You paused in the threshold, turning your head to look at your pearl, who was following close behind.

“You may stay here. They are sending an escort for me,” you assured her. She blinked, giving a little curtsy and staying put as you descended from the ship.

Just as you had predicted, there was a burly gem waiting at attention in the bay. Her narrowed eyes widened when they landed on you, and somehow her rigid posture became even straighter.

“My Sapphire,” she greeted, doing a poor job of hiding her amazement being in your presence. “It would be my honor to escort you to our most esteemed Diamond.”

You gave a single nod, gesturing to the hallway you knew led to the designated meeting room. This was one of the things you didn’t need your mystic foresight to know; you’d been here many times before. Though, admittedly, it had been a while since you visited the human zoo. Testament to this was the fact that you didn’t recognize your escort. She was an Agate; that’s all you could tell.

You followed her through the halls, the silence almost deafening. You never liked the way other gems could go on in such boring quiet; though socializing always did come with its anxieties, to you it was preferable to that horrid noiselessness.

“What may I call you?”

The Agate stiffened, her powerful gait faltering. She clearly hadn’t expected you to speak, and she seemed even flustered. She was looking at you with owlish eyes and darkening cheeks.

“My apologies. I am a Holly Blue Agate.”

“That’s a beautiful name.” And fitting, too, you decided. Her periwinkle skin accounted for the “blue” part, and she certainly looked like she’d be named “holly.” What did that even mean? You didn’t know. But she had strong features and a burly build, and her hair was piled in two rigid cones atop her head. Somehow this seemed like the exact image of what a “holly” should look like.

Her cheeks went darker. Then, waving her hand dismissively, she pressed on down the hall. “I’m one of thousands of Holly Blue Agates. I’m honored that you think our name is… worthy of compliment.”

You tried to think of something else to discuss (the meeting room was still quite a ways away), but Holly Blue Agate was suddenly distracted by a group of giggling guards.

“What have I told you about your tittering?” She snapped, turning on a pin to storm at the small group of Amethysts.

You blinked in surprise, not having expected this. It wasn’t that you were surprised at her outburst; no, that was just another unfortunate part of gem culture (which you also hated). It was more the fact that this gem, rigid as any you’d ever met, cared enough to disrupt her duties for the sake of reprimanding these Amethysts.

You frowned. Not only did you not see the necessity of stopping your task for such a negligible offense, but you couldn’t help but be offended for these Amethysts.

“Come now,” you chirped up, following your escort to the Amethysts. “Don’t be so harsh.”

You pressed your lips together as Holly Blue Agate just gaped at you; the Amethysts were doing the same. You took her by the wrist, giving a gentle squeeze that made her unfurl her fists, and led her away.

“Your excellency,” she balked, “they were—”

You held up your free hand to silence her. “I don’t care about your rules.” Your heart dropped when you realized what you’d just said. Rules were at the very core of gem society, and to denounce them like that… You might as well have just declared yourself a member of the resistance.

“What I mean,” you blurted, quick to try and salvage the situation, “is that… escorting me should be your priority.”

Holly Blue Agate nodded after an excruciating pause. “Of course. You are my priority. My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. “You are… unlike the other Sapphires I’ve met. Not that that’s a bad thing, your excellency.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to that. On the one hand, you knew that other Sapphires were certainly more aloof and obedient than you, so you took it as a compliment. But on the other hand… in gem society, to be different was to be doomed to destruction. So you just frowned, grateful that the meeting chamber was coming up on your left.

“Good luck with your meeting,” Holly Blue Agate said, apparently on an impulse, as she darkened in the cheeks and put a hand over her mouth. “I mean… I will be waiting to escort you back to your ship.”

“Yes. I will be looking forward to it.”

You ducked into the room to hide your own darkening face. What had just happened? In all your years of service, nothing like that had ever happened. You’d never behaved so offensively, never betrayed your culture so blatantly. Affection between gems was the furthest thing from normal. You couldn’t believe you’d shown even the slightest of that taboo feeling, let alone to an Agate.

Little did you know that your escort was thinking the exact same thing on the other side of the door. She was conflicted between intrigue and horror, both at you and herself. Despite this, she couldn’t deny the odd little feeling in her chest that bubbled—was it that peculiar thing called excitement?—while she waited for you to come back to her.

Thank you so much for reading,, let me know if you guys would be interested in more Steven Universe stuff!! Take care my sweet doves <33

(divider by saradika)

[poisonousdelights]

PARTIES: @poisonousdelights and @woveninstardust TIME: Second week of March WHERE: Gatilin Fields and the surrounding area SUMMARY: It's the perfect night for a cryptid hunt with the fog rolling in and Maggie and Isa decide to take advantage. What happens when Maggie finally gets to see a creature from her mother's stories? As it turns out, nothing good.

Foggy nights were always prime cryptid-hunting nights. 

For some reason, there was so much lore in the town about fog and mist revealing the creatures that remained unseen, as if the watery weather washed away the veil that kept cryptids and monsters away from the average eye. Maggie had all but sprinted out the door the moment her shift at Periwinkle’s Paints ended, texting Isa as she went. Which brought her to now, trudging through muddy paths obscured in fog, peering through the dying light of the bleak winter day. 

“I don’t know if we’re even gonna see anything…” Guilt tinged the tone of the girl’s voice as she turned to glance over at Isa. She’d already thrown an extra sweatshirt on her and wrapped her scarf around the other girl so she stayed warm. It wasn’t particularly chilly, but Isa seemed to get colder easier… and Maggie’d be damned if she let her freeze while following her into the middle of nowhere. But Isa seemed to be willing to follow Maggie on all her hair-brained adventures, no matter what the weather was. She was positive she didn’t deserve a friend as good as her. Positive that Isa deserved some nice, peaceful afternoon off, where she wasn’t doing stupid things in the middle of the woods. But Maggie loved her all the more for agreeing to spend a little time looking for things that the world said didn’t exist with her. “Half the stories Mom tells specify days like today, so…” Rocks skittered down the path as she scuffed her foot, making the mist swirl about. 

“We can go watch a movie or something later- whatever you wanna do.” Oh, yeah… Isa deserved worlds better than her nonsense. 

Some people probably wondered why Isa always went along with Maggie’s hunts for cryptids when she didn’t always believe in them herself. She would get those questions from almost everyone before she’d lost most people out of her life and she’d always said the same thing: “because I believe in Maggie”. 

It was the simplest answer, the truest one as well. Even if she thought they would never find what they were looking for back then she wanted to be there for her friend, and wanted to support her in whatever she wanted out of life. It was still the same now but with the added bonus of wanting to keep Maggie safe from whatever else was out there. Plus, now that she knew the supernatural did exist she was certain that her friend’s belief in these creatures were warranted. Isabela wanted her to have that moment where she found one of the things that she adored so much.

Plus, she wasn’t that cold. She’d thought to bring a knit hat this time and her warmest jacket to go over the extra sweater that Maggie had given her when she got there. She’d just forgotten those damn gloves. “So, we’re not looking for anything in particular then?” Isa could recall a few of the cryptids that Maggie and her mother had talked about before enjoying these conditions but she wasn’t sure if there were other factors to be aware of. She almost wanted to let her eyes transform to see what heat she could find, maybe point out something and give her best friend exactly what she wanted.

She couldn’t do that though. It was too risky, especially at night. By the sound of Maggie’s voice, Isa could tell that she felt bad for bringing her out on another cryptid adventure. She didn’t want that, there was no need to feel bad. “You know, Maggie, this is fun on its own. It’s like we’re living in a movie.” And it certainly was. A snake beast best friends with a cryptid lover desperately trying to prove that they existed. It would do well in Hollywood. “Just tell me what to keep an eye out for.”

“Yeah, nothing in particular…” Her voice trailed off as she peered down through the swirling fog, trying to follow the path as best she could. It was strange how most of the stories Maggie knew had the detail of it being ‘foggy’ out. Wormy, for example, was almost exclusively seen on foggy days. And while it was strange weather for February, the girl would take advantage of every second of it. She didn’t get how Isa never tired of following her into the middle of nowhere, helping her look for things that the rest of town said didn’t exist. But when she looked at Isa, she didn’t see someone who was bored or frustrated. In the dying light of the day, obscured by the mist, Isa looked content, almost… Like she didn’t mind her current situation. 

A piece of her knew her friend’s words were meant for comfort. But it didn’t make them any less accurate. Life in Wicked’s Rest was already like a movie or a tv show most days. With so many strange and spooky happenings, sometimes even Maggie felt like she was a character being written into the background of some TV show. 

A tiny grin crept across her face, dark eyes twinkling in the twilight. “What’s the name of our movie, then? And who’s playing us, because-” Her voice dropped off suddenly. There had been something dancing there, just out of sight, glowing through the fog. A car… or one of those lamps people put on their bikes. But it didn’t move like one of those. And the color of that glowing light hadn't been right. She turned to face it, to seek it out once more, but it had vanished. Just like that. Maybe she was just imagining things…

“I… nevermind, I thought I saw something…”

The prospect of a little game to help pass the time, talking about who would play them, had Isa grinning with excitement. She was already scanning through names of actors until her friend stopped in the middle of her sentence. She tried to look where Maggie was looking but it was a little difficult to see exactly where she was looking with the stupid sunglasses over her eyes. “Wait, what did you see? Wormy?” Would Wormy be out here? It was the first cryptid that had popped into her head so she rolled with it. “Should I get the gummy worms?” 

Excitement coursed through Isa at the very idea. Was this the night that Maggie proved the existence of a cryptid? Were the nights spent in the cold forests of Maine going to pay off? They were already worth it just for the time spent with her best friend but seeing the joy on Maggie’s face when whatever she saw turned out to be a creature she was looking for was going to make her life, that she was sure of.

Suddenly, she saw it too. After scanning the area for a few moments Isa saw the flash of bright lights ahead of them swirling through the mist as if they were putting on a show. They would dip below the fog to the ground and then surface again, twinkling like it was trying to catch her attention. It would have been seductive had it not been lights floating through the air. “Maggie…what is that?” Maybe it was seduction. Maybe something knew exactly what they were doing. Because at that moment, Isa knew that she wanted to follow whatever it was. They were calling to her, tugging at her still frame, enticing her to move toward them. “We should follow them…”

She was about to brush off having seen anything. An illusion of the dying light and the misty air and her own incessant need to find the seemingly unfindable. Isa’s words seemed a million miles away as Maggie stared into the mist, into the unknown. But then it was back. Like a star hovering above the ground, floating in a space just out of reach and growing smaller. She’d never seen anything like it. Her breath caught in her throat in a shallow gasp. “You see it too… You see it too, right, Is?” The words were so quiet that they were hardly audible, just a wisp of smoke rolling off her lips. But every soft syllable was threaded with excitement and hope she’d never felt before.

Her mother had told her stories of stars that fell out of the sky and hovered waiting for people to wish upon them. She’d told her stories of spirits that wanted to be followed. There were so many stories that coursed through her mind, that wove themselves into her memory, that were as much a part of her as she had wished to be a part of them. And now, for the first time, there was something there promising her that all the stories her mother had told her were true. 

Maggie was moving without a second thought, feet trodding off the path and towards the mote of unknown light beckoning her onward. If Isa thought they should follow it, then who was Maggie to question it? 

She wasn’t even sure what Maggie had asked her, the words too low to hear even if Isa wasn’t concentrating on the little orbs of light beckoning them over. Her eyes were glued to them but as soon as Maggie shot forward and she noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye she was moving just as swiftly, careful to be just a tad slower so that her friend had the opportunity to get there first. This was her moment, it was everything that Maggie had worked for. It’s what she deserved, right?

But didn’t Isa deserve it too? She’d been out in the forests with Maggie for years, trekking along after the girl to help her find whatever they could. Now that there was something there and the two of them were getting closer the lamia felt like she deserved the win just as much as Maggie did. The desire for these wisps, it was taking over the desire for her friend to have that moment and her feet started to move a little faster as her vision filled with nothing but the dancing light show that somehow kept getting further away no matter how far she ventured into the trees. 

They were teasing her now, twinkling with amusement with every step that Isa took towards them only making her want them more. Why, she didn’t quite know. She almost wanted to take the sunglasses off to get a better look, to see if there was something about them that could tell her why she was so enamored. She was tempted, especially with them floating away, but mostly Isa just wanted to keep going, to get there quicker. 

It was such a strange sensation. All at once, unbridled joy and curiosity flooded her senses, leaving Maggie lightheaded and utterly, ridiculously giddy. Real. The wisps were real. They were floating in the mist, beckoning her onward, glowing brighter in the dying light of day. A giggle erupted from her chest, unable to hold back her excitement any longer. “They’re real!!! Isa they’re really real!!!” 

As she rushed about after the wisps, following their ever-glowing path, she hardly noticed herself being turned around. If the girl had stopped to think for even a moment, she might have realized her path had twisted. She might have realized that Isa was no longer just a hand's reach away, but was being pulled in her own direction by the will-o-wisps. She might have remembered the parts of her mother’s stories, the ones where the glowing creatures often led people to places where they ought not go…

They twinkled merrily, lighting her path through the mist. Nevermind that Maggie could hardly see where her next step would land. Nevermind that at all! Follow!, they seemed to whisper with each little blink. Come with us, come see! 

The only thing she registered about Maggie’s words was how far away the girl sounded and when she did, Isa glanced over to her best friend to see she was being pulled in another direction. It didn’t strike her as odd even if it should have. Maybe they were meant to go in different directions. Maybe the lights wanted them to see different things and that was okay. She didn’t get to think about it any deeper than that as a wisp flew in front of her eyes and drew her attention back to the direction they were leading her, obviously wanting her to keep going further away from her friend.

And she followed without any protest.

It was an odd sensation. Not caring about being by Maggie’s side anymore, she kept her feet moving towards the woods that the wisps were leading her to, whispering nonsensical things low in her ear. After a moment the lamia realized they weren’t actually words being whispered but rather a dreamy little noise to keep her attention, to keep her mind on them and not on Maggie. She continued to go where they led but something was tugging at the back of her mind. Something wasn’t right about this, was it? Why wouldn’t these wisps want to show them the same things? Why would they want to separate them?

As the questions grew, so did the noise the balls of light were making to keep her attention on them. Her feet were still moving her forward but she could feel the desire for them pulling away from her mind the more she thought of Maggie like an anchor keeping her grounded. Where was she going? What were they trying to show her?

And why couldn’t she bring herself to turn around and go after her friend?

The orbs of light moved further back towards more fog as Isa continued to follow, but something was different about this mist. It stretched further off the ground than the white fog she and Maggie had noticed earlier and there was the hint of a red hue to it that made her a little nervous to keep going towards it. But she didn’t stop, the little sparkles inside combined with the wisps from before pulling her towards it all.

The wisps twinkled in the mist. Just as Maggie drew close enough to reach out and touch one, it would vanish and reappear further down the line. They were her only guide for which way to go. Had the soft whispers beckoning her forward not been there, perhaps a rational thought would have entered her mind. It didn’t do well to stray from the path, and when the world was obscured by mist and the growing dark of night, it was so very easy to end up headed in the wrong direction. 

She could have sworn Isa was right behind her. Swore she could hear her footsteps a few feet away. Something in the girl’s gut knew that if she looked away from the motes of light for even a moment, they might disappear for good. Then the two of them might be lost in the dark, doomed to meander until the fog cleared or day found them. Those are footsteps you hear, her footsteps, trust she’s with you, keep going. For a moment, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was feeling how Orpheus must have felt when walking with Eurydice up from the Underworld. Just keep moving forward, don’t look back, trust she’s there. 

Instead, Maggie turned her focus to trying to figure out where the wisps were guiding them. They’d started in the woods, closer to Mossthorn Forest. But time had lost her, the mist had turned her around, and the distance no longer made much sense. There weren’t so many trees here. The path had smoothed out, with only the occasional rock, well-trodden grass, and dirt underfoot. Were they in the Fields? What was out in the Fields? All she could do was keep walking, keep following, and find out. 

How far away had these wisps taken her? Where was Maggie? The thoughts kept infiltrating the hold that the light had on Isa’s mind but then they would whisper again and bring her right back to it. She was deeper in the woods, coming right up to the red fog, reaching out to touch it when her foot caught on a tree root sticking out of the ground. 

Her body landed with a thud in the saturated dirt, sunglasses flying and her arm halfway into the red mist. As she laid there she knew something wasn’t right, something bad was happening. All the energy she possessed was slowly draining from her body. She looked up at the strong smell of iron that her sensitive nose had caught a whiff of only to see that red mist glowing brighter. Her arm was pale, losing color slightly faster than the rest of her body, and she could have sworn there were small droplets of blood leaving out of her fingertips.

She yanked it back out of the beautiful mist as soon as she understood what was happening. Those dancing swirls of light added a little chime to their whispers as if they were giggling at Isa’s current misfortune. “Ohhh…” A realization hit her. “You did this on purpose, you little shits.” They chimed again before they quickly floated away from her and back in the direction they had come and she could only thank the heavens for the root that kept her from completely walking into that mist. She would definitely have to feed soon though to help replenish was it was able to take.

As her mind started to clear a little, she started to search the forest floor for the sunglasses that had been tossed from her face with the impact, hoping they hadn’t slid into the mist. She lazily patted her hands on the ground and only lost hope for a moment until her fingers grazed the plastic of them and she was able to place back on her nose where they belonged. “Maggie, don’t walk into the mist.” The words were barely above a whisper, her lack of energy very clear as she spoke, but something hit her then. 

Maggie wasn’t with her.

It all came rushing back to her at once. The way the orbs had separated and sent them both in different directions, the way Maggie kept coming to mind until the wisps would wipe her from it again, and panic tore through Isa like a freight train. If the wisps were leading her here, where the hell were they taking her best friend? “Maggie!”

The scream tore out of her lungs as the rush of adrenaline took over, giving her the energy she so desperately needed. She was on her feet again, running back towards the edge of the forest as fast as she could to hopefully catch sight of her friend again. Luckily, as more of her mind started to clear she could remember seeing which way Maggie was being led she just had to make sure she didn’t make a wrong turn somewhere. Her legs carried her through the trees, down the path that she’d seen her friend take, rushing into a field where she could see Maggie in the far distance. The lights were still leading her somewhere, they still had their hold on her, and she screamed out once more even though Isa was well aware the other girl couldn’t hear her.

The further along she followed the wisps, the more her heart began to race in her chest. Wisps led people to… what was it? Her mother had told her again and again. Wisps… what was it about wisps? She swore she heard Isa’s voice whisper something, a secret lost to the fog. The sound was a welcome reminder to Maggie- she’s right behind you… 

The world had grown so strangely still in the growing night. Had there been bird song? The sound of wind? The only thing she seemed to hear were the whispers of the wisps and their footsteps plodding along after them. It was almost eerie. It made her want to turn to Isa and make up some excuse to turn back. But stopping meant losing the proof floating just in front of her. Just out of reach, always a breath away… No, no, turning back was not an option.

Instead, she tried to focus on what the wisps might be leading them to. Was it a lost Tendrilla shrine? A secret tunnel? A spirit of the woods? A creature that town had forgotten and that could be brought back into the stories they told? The answer lied ahead, where motes of light had begun to gather. 

They sat clustered together in a perfect circle in the distance, as if they were exchanging secrets amongst themselves. Every step took her a little bit closer to the answer. She kept her hand held out towards them in a gesture of peace. She wasn’t any harm, neither of them were. The wisps stayed put, sentinels in their circle… which was where she was going to go. Right to the center, if they’d let her. 

Not too far, now. A few steps more…

“Maggie!”

She was closer now. She could see the color of her scarf through the night instead of it blending into the shadows of the night, see the individual braids of her hair as they swayed along with her movements, see the beautiful girl through the night fog going towards something that seemed much darker then the ground she was walking on. Isa pushed her legs to go faster. Whatever that was, she knew it wasn’t going to turn into anything good. After the wisps had led her to the bloodsucking mists, how could it be anything other than something that was meant to harm the most wonderful person to walk this earth?

Maggie was getting closer but thankfully not moving as fast as Isa was. She was closing the gap as quickly as she could, that large mass of black growing bigger and bigger the closer she got to the both of them. “Maggie, stop! It’s tricking you! Please stop!” Her lungs burned as she screamed even louder, her side hitching with the extra loss of air, but she wouldn’t stop. She’d never stop.

The moment her friend’s feet reached the edge of the large pit she was able to slip her arms around Maggie’s waist and yank her back. Both girls fell to the ground, Isa on her back with Maggie in her arms, mud surely covering both of them and her sunglasses skewed enough to be considered dangerous in that moment. She was out of breath, afraid that exhaustion was going to make her pass out right then and there as her heart pumped what was left of her blood volume erratically. 

But she was safe. She wasn’t falling into the pit of darkness in front of them, and the wisps seemed to huff as their second attempt to do harm got thwarted. Isa held on tight, never wanting to let go of the girl in her arms after losing her to darkness. “Maggie, are you okay?” 

The wisps were so bright. Maggie swore that the closer she got to them, the brighter they became. It was as if they, too, felt the anticipation of an arrival. She could hardly hear a thing outside her own heartbeat and the strange chime-like whispers that seemed to ring out in her mind. After years of believing, this, the moment she was in, changed everything. 

Reality came screaming in the moment her foot should have found purchase on the ground and slipped through air instead.

If good moments happened quickly, then bad ones existed in slow motion. Her heart plummeted to her feet as she realized exactly where the wisps had led her. Death Pit. She was going to fall into the Allgood Death Pit. She was going to fall, probably to her death (ironically enough) into the Allgood Death Pit. She didn’t know if she was screaming. She knew her mouth was open, she knew she was scared, but she couldn’t hear a thing other than a ringing in her ears. It was only then that she remembered her mother's words, echoing in her mind like a death knoll: Wisps are tricky, Magnolia… keep your eyes up if you see one. Or you might live to regret it.

And then, just as the thought threatened to swallow her whole, the world sped up again. Too fast, as if someone had hit fast forward. Maggie got yanked back so hard she felt the air leave her lungs, and suddenly she was crashing backwards into Isa. 

The first thing she really registered was that it was cold. The mud that slopped along the path around the pit was slowly soaking into the girls’ clothing, their hair, their skin… The next was that she was crying. There were tears on her face, yes, but when had she started crying, and why couldn’t she stop… The third, and perhaps most important, was that Isa was there again. Maggie was clinging to her best friend like she was a life raft. Isa hadn’t been behind her. Rather, Isa sounded as if she’d ran a marathon trying to catch up to her. When had they been separated? She’d been so sure- so sure- that Isa had been a few steps behind her the whole time. 

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I-“ the words were stammered between little sobs. “You were behind me, I thought you were behind…”

“No, Maggie…” She could hear the girl starting to sob and the first thing Isa did was secure the glasses that were threatening to fall from her face just to make sure this night didn’t get any worse. The second thing she did was maneuver the two of them so that she could face her best friend, the two of them laying in the mud on their sides. She didn’t care about the mess or the chill that was creeping into her body because of it, all she cared about was Maggie being okay. Clearly, she wasn’t. Who would be after almost being lured to their death?

Her forehead pressed against the other girls, Isa using her thumbs to brush away the tears that kept coming even as her own started to roll down her dirty cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay, we’re safe. That’s all that matters.” But she still couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d almost lost the single most important person to her. 

If she had gotten there even two seconds later it would have been Ruth all over again except in a more catastrophic way. The Ruth situation had ruined her life, had taken away so many things from her, but losing Maggie? It would have ended her right then and there. There was no Isa without Maggie, the one person in her life who had fully stood by her through everything that she had been through, the one person who loved her no matter what happened.  She kept whispering the same thing over and over, trying to calm Maggie down while she continued to wipe away at her streaked face.“I’m here now. I’m here, I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere, never again.” And repeat. She knew eventually they would have to get up, there was no telling if that mist was being moved their way or what other crazy things they could encounter out in that field, but Isa just wanted to let her girl cry for as long as she needed. With no indication of how much time was passing them by, the two of them stayed right at the edge of that pit. At least they were safe in each other’s arms.

[fostersffff]

The Big Gundam Watch, Part 12: Mobile Suit Gundam F91

Back when I started doing these write-ups, I was pretty certain I was just going to ignore F91. Reading up on it at the time, it was clearly an odd duck: it’s a standalone movie in the Universal Century timeline that takes place 30 years after Char’s Counterattack and 30 years before Victory Gundam, so outside of the manga-only continuation Crossbone Gundam, it didn’t seem worth checking out. But as I and found myself enjoying more and more of the Gundam franchise, I figured I should check it out anyway, especially since the F91 and the Crossbone Gundam are really cool designs.

As it turns out, I really like F91! Unfortunately, this is in spite of some major flaws, mostly stemming from the fact that it feels like a TV series they had to condense into a two hour movie... which it turns out is literally what happened:

So with that put out right at the start, let's get into it:

THE STUFF I LIKED:

I promise I won't start every entry like this, but with the knowledge that this was originally going to be a TV series, I think "the gang" they introduce is perfect. Seabook, Cecily, Seabook's Little Sister, Grumpy Techie, Normal Kid, Team Mom Punk Girl, Seabook's Cowardly Rival, a bunch of kids like the White Base Babies/Shinta and Qum, a literal actual baby- that's a Burger King Kids Club right there, perfectly suited to TV hijinks. Of course, you can't do a lot of goofy, ZZ-esque hijinks in a two hour movie, but they manage to slip some stuff in, and in isolation I thought they were mostly pretty fun.

I'm also really fond of the actual crew of the Space Ark, because they collectively remind me of my favorite version of Bright Noa; people way out of their depth and doing their best with way too much responsibility while being relentless dogged by Federation war hawks who- in a pleasant contrast to War in the Pocket- are maybe the scummiest bastards they've ever been.

With those two things mentioned; I don’t think it’s much of a secret that F91 was almost certainly an attempt at soft-rebooting Gundam. I think it was a noble attempt; unlike Wing, which I regularly derided as “the Universal Century again, but with arbitrary differences”, the differences here feel more considered. For example: Seabook is an amalgamation of Amuro, Kamille, and Judau, Cecily Fairchild is F91’s equivalent of Sayla Mass, but also, she also fulfills the role of a grown-up Mineva Zabi, and the F91 itself is actually pretty special compared to all of its contemporary mobile suits because of Seabook's mom's quirked-up design.

Visually, I really love this movie. I'm not very good at describing visual stuff, so I tend to avoid saying much more than "it's good" or "it's bad", but this movie uses a lot of unusual colors and lighting compared to what came before. Like, I would describe the most commonly reoccurring color in this movie's palette as "periwinkle", and this shot from the first conversation between Cecily and Iron Mask really highlights how important lighting is in this animated feature, which is not something I typically think about when watching animation.

Speaking of: it's crazy to think Unicorn's Riddhe Marcenas was never The Biggest Cuck in Gundam, because Iron Mask has been occupying that position since 1991. Not just literally, but every single word he says and action he takes is just barely not seething. Explicitly mentioning he came to terms with the guy his wife ran off with right before murdering him with psychic powers just to make her sad is peak Cuck Behavior.

Way back in my Hathaway review, I talked about how much I liked the scene of Hathaway and Gigi having to navigate a mobile suit firefight on foot, and for how good that was, F91 actually outdoes that movie. Like, not even 10 minutes in do we get the scene of the baby's mother getting instantly killed by a shell casing, and this is before the fighting starts in earnest.

I pointed this out in a separate post but man do I love the space rescue from Final Fantasy VIII, so finding out that (barring this movie having taken it from something else itself) F91 was the origin of this was a genuinely delightful way to end the movie. Also, even without that comparison, there's is something powerfully romantic about the visual of clinging to your loved one in the endless, uncaring vacuum of space.

THE STUFF I LIKED LESS:

For all the things this movie must have cut, there's an equal number of things it didn't and just rammed in there anyway, like the subplot with Annamarie and Zabine. In a ~50 episode TV series, they could have stretched her growing resentment towards Cecily, defection from the Vanguard, and ultimate clash with Zabine over like 10 episodes, and her death at his hands and his cold dismissal would've had way more impact than it did over the course of 10 minutes.

I mentioned before, Cecily is both a "what if" of an older Mineva Zabi as she appeared in the Zeta/ZZ, which also makes her the blueprint for Mineva Zabi as she actually appears in Unicorn. The flaw here is the Ronah family: unlike the Zabis, who rose to power and infamy with cloak and dagger, the Ronah family just... exists? And they have enough power and resources to form a fighting force as threatening to the firmly entrenched (but arguably stagnant/in-decline) Federation as the Crossbone Vanguard? It'd be easier to handwave if F91 took place, like, 100 years after CCA, but with only 30 years it's just bizarre.

Also not to let Cecily off scot-free, it's very not flattering how easily she fell for the absolute monarchy meme. Like, ok, she's 17 and definitely in over her head, but when Seabook came to rescue her I still don't understand why she was like "no, it's too late, they already convinced me facism is based".

Wiki diving on this subject indicates the Ronah family is basically a new money family that bought an old money name to sound more important, which is delicious, and even sort of ties in with Iron Mask being a Cyber-Newtype, but that's not really present in the movie. Never a good thing when I have to wiki dive to understand something better.

Speaking of this movie only taking place 30 years after CCA: this is not at all the fault of F91, because at the time it was made nothing had else had really been written to have happened aftere Char's Counterattack, but it's very weird to see people who should know better be like "there used to be these people called 'Newtypes', and a special kind of mobile suit called a 'Gundam'".

The Bugs are comically stupid. If I were being charitable, I could chalk this up to Iron Mask being a seething cuck and wanting to be as cruel as possible to the people he's killing, but the idea that self-propelled heat seeking sawblades are a more viable method of mass killing than the gas attacks in Zeta is bananas. (I wrote this right after watching F91, and now that I've had the chance to think back on Zeta- specifically how the first colony we see that got hit with the Titans' gas attack was still uninhabitable years later- I can kind of see the rationale behind the Bugs, but they're still very dumb)

Most of the mech designs in this are pretty great, but I gotta say I'm super disappointed with the Rafflesia. I kept waiting for it to bloom into a dope-ass Qubeley/Kshatriya lookin' thing but it was just the Final Weapon from Mega Man X4.

I mentioned I liked the mobile suit designs, but the Crossbone Vanguard in general is not beating the Star Wars allegations.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS:

I aspire to own the BEAUTIFUL LIFE TOMINO jacket in the way that other guys with different brain problems than me aspire to own the jacket from Drive.

There was a bunch of stuff in this movie I thought was very funny, intentionally or otherwise:

Despite how horrifying the scene gets, the War Museum fight kicking off with the curator announcing/revealing that the name of the museum is "Roy's War Museum" killed me.

Seabook jumping off the maintenance platform and audibly shattering his knees is incredibly fucking funny.

However, Seabook's mom hopping on a moped and immediately eating shit is maybe the single funniest scene in any Gundam media ever.

You're right, random citizen attending the Crossbone Vanguard propaganda rally: beam flags ARE awesome!

This sentence is just a literal observation of what's literally happening in the scene. Like, thinking about it, most attacks on colonies from space in the Universal Century would necessarily come from what would technically be considered "underground" because of how they're designed, but I'll be damned if it doesn't sound poetic. Tomino strikes again!

I've talked about SPEEN before, but it has literally never been SPEEN-ier than F91. Like, here's over a full minute of So Much Fucking Spinning (with the dub audio, where they added in sound effects for everything that's spinning for some reason):

If you don't count the numerous manga follow ups: lol, lmao

IN CONCLUSION:

In an alternate universe where F91 had the chance to be the TV show it was intended to be, I think it would have been successful in trying to soft reboot Gundam. There's a ton of stuff I really like about this, but the execution is lacking because of course it is, and judging it as is without considering hypotheticals, I'd probably put it about on par or just a hair above Char's Counterattack. It has almost the exact same pacing problems I had with that movie, but because it's effectively a clean slate and a single, unconnected, complete narrative, it winds up being a less frustrating watch.

Next up: Mobile Suit Gundam 0083: Stardust Memory! This one is a coin flip, because I don't think I've ever heard a single complementary thing about this outside of Cima Garahau's design and the fact that it's a beautiful 90's anime OVA, but it takes place in a timeframe (smack between 0079 and Zeta) that is just so rich with potential that even if it's bad, it should at the very least be interesting.

[a-crow-ready-for-a-murder]

TOWARD HOME

Hey everyone, here's another twst fic. This time in 2nd person with the reader feels homesick and decides to visit nrcs wish granter. Hope you enjoy. Also I reference the readers mom as their familial contact and I know that isn't for everyone so I tried to keep it brief so you don't get taken out of the story.

If anyone were to confront you and ask what you were thinking, logically, you couldn’t answer. What lapse in judgment could have possibly led to the notion that this was a good idea?

Even if you wanted to answer, you probably couldn’t even look them in the eye, so with eyes trained on the floor you opened one of the doors to the underwater cafe. Perhaps you could say that you couldn’t see where you were, no one would question it upon seeing your swollen red eyes, still raw from a night of crying. Perhaps you could say you were sick and not thinking clearly, you certainly looked sickly as you wrapped your arms around yourself with each sluggish step. Monstro lounge wasn’t too busy, only a few regulars were scattered about. Amidst the tranquility you spotted two familiar figures standing by a hallway opening. Specifically the hall that led to the VIP room. You took one calming breath as you quickened your pace in their direction. Rather than give attention to disappearing nerve you focused on finding your voice that had been gone this morning. The distance between the door and the twins wasn’t as far as it had looked but before you could even croak out a word, the calmer of brothers, Jade, nodded towards the direction of the door in the middle of the hall. “He’s in his office.”

They knew why you were here. Of course they did. If nothing else the twins and their boss knew what a desperate soul looked like. Your voice was still absent as far as you could tell, so you nodded your thanks as you walked past them.

Your good sense may have abandoned you, but your manners certainly didn’t. Stopping in front of the dark, wooden door. One that for its simplicity, felt so ominous if you knew of the man on the other side of it. Looking back at the way you came, you took a brief moment to ask yourself if you wanted to do this. Although the chill in your spine tried to warn you to run, and the numbness in your legs wanted to hold you back from the room on the other side of the door, you steeled yourself and raised a shaky fist to knock.

The sharp noise of knuckles hitting wood echoed around you as you knocked three times and waited. When no response immediately came you began to wonder if you should try another time, more than likely though it was your fear finally starting to burrow its way into the forefront of your mind. ‘No’ you thought to yourself as you shook your head in hopes of clearing the sensation like some sort of etch and sketch. You were about to raise your hand to knock again when you heard a familiar baritone through the door “Come in.”

You realized then that it had only been a few seconds since your first knock. With another deep breath, you twisted the door knob, the quiet click gave way to the door swinging open slowly.

There he was. Hunched over his desk scribbling away at a pile of papers stacked high enough to be mistaken for a phone book. His glasses were perched near the end of his nose as the cerulean eyes behind them scanned page after page. His silver locks would move slightly as he flipped through the papers, framing his face as he frowned in concentration. The room itself was quiet with only the sound of his pen scratching paper, the light from the octopus shaped chandeliers illuminating the walls of bookshelves categorized alphabetically for the rows and rows of books that lined them. In the center of the room were 2 leather couches facing each other with a fish tank glass table between them, tied together by periwinkle carpeting.

Azul didn’t look up as you entered, and as you stood awkwardly in the doorway you found yourself watching his gloved hand glide over the papers. It almost looked like he wasn’t writing anything, just skimming over whatever was on the paper, if you were a bit more awake you might’ve squinted to see if he was but at the moment, you were just entranced by the motions.

“Close the door, please” his voice snapped you out of your trance

“Hm? Oh! Right, sorry” you stammer as you close the door behind you

He still hadn’t looked up when he spoke to you but after you closed the door he put down his pen next to the mountain of papers and rubbed his eyes. Even after closing the door you didn’t further enter the room, still feeling awkward about being there to begin with. Azul readjusted his glasses before looking at you curiously “Ah, prefect. What brings you here?”

“I, uhm….Well…” You hadn’t really planned out what your were going to say but you knew filling the room with dead air wouldn’t help the anxiety that was rapidly creeping up your neck. While you were trying to form your sentences, Azul seemed to study you, no doubt he recognised the exact kind of miserable state you were in and probably didn’t need an eloquent speech on what was bothering you, so with a small sigh you gave up on any sort of impressive wording and just came out with it. “I want to know if you can help me.”

Azul didn’t say anything for a moment. His face didn’t change but if you had to guess, you would probably say he was considering you. After the incident with his overblot you two were cordial enough, even after everything that had happened over winter break you still wouldn’t say you were friends, but as far as you knew there was no bad blood of any kind though no doubt he was still wary, just as he was with everyone. You weren’t hiding anything. You had no ulterior motive, or hidden agenda, you were just a sad soul who didn’t really have many options. Your friends couldn’t help you, the headmage wouldn’t help you, you even doubted Azul could help you but at this point you were more than willing to try.

After a moment Azul stood up from his desk and waved his hand in the direction of the couches. You nodded and went to sit down on the one closest to the door you came in from while Azul sat on the one across from you. “What can I do for you?” He asked

You fidgeted with your hands as you started to speak, your voice feeling like it was emerging from a hundred year sleep, “I’ve been here for months, and Crowley is supposed to be finding a way to send me home but….” you sighed and sat forward before continuing “Everyone is talking about break and seeing there families but I can’t even let mine know that I’m okay. And I get that it’s hard considering there’s no record of where I’m from but…it’s getting even harder to get through a day. I keep waking up hoping that maybe today I’ll wake up in my own bed and all this will be a weird dream but…” Azul listened silently as you spoke, his face remained impassive even as tears began to fill your eyes. You wiped them away and took a deep breath, it was now or never. “I’m not here to ask if you know how I can get home, but with all this magic and advanced tech, I was wondering if, maybe there was a way I could, I dunno call my family? Or even…Just write to them?”

When Azul didn’t say anything your nerves came back full force “I understand it’s a complicated request, and I totally get if you can’t do it or if it’s not something you know of, and I’m not trying to waste your time but-”

Amidst your tidal wave of words Azul leaned forward and reached out his hand to gently take hold of yours “Y/N.”

This stopped your rant and you found yourself feeling silly for the outburst but as you looked at him you noticed that he was entirely calm. Instead of seeming annoyed or perturbed he looked… empathetic, like he understood your plight and wanted to help you. No doubt a look he perfected for his unsuspecting customers, you had to wonder how many people got lured in by it, only to realize they stepped into an iron clad trap with the simple stroke of a pen. Every nerve in your body told you to guard yourself against that look, but in that moment, that look was like a pillow among the stony, dismissive expressions you tended to get from Crowley. Even if it was fake, it was still welcomed as you collected your thoughts before saying. “I just figured I’d ask since…let’s face it, I don’t have much to lose.”

Azul responded with a quiet hum as he retracted his hand to clasp with his other one while he rested his elbows on his knees. “Well it is definitely a difficult request” he said simply

You looked down, “Yeah, I figured, thanks anyways” you said about to get up

“It’s probably not impossible though” Azul continued

You stopped, a faint swell of something that’d been lost over the months “What?”

“The dark mirror can connect to many places, distant lands, undiscovered territories, under the ocean, and it was what brought you here to begin with. So if it was able to reach your realm then there’s a chance other interconnecting relics can too”

He raised a good point, “However, the mirror itself uses a vast amount of magic, so much so that the mirror goes into repose after for three months”

“So it can’t be anything on that big of a scale?” you asked

“Basically.”

“So something like a cell phone could do it without big repercussions?”

“In theory”

The swelling in your just got bigger, so big it threatened to spill, likely as another storm of tears. Could it work? Could you really be able to reach home? Was it safe to entertain this idea, to even have hope? You couldn’t help it, nor did you try to stop the smile that was taking your face by force. However your reverie was broken by Azul clearing his throat “the thing is, prefect, I’m still running a business here.”

You almost laughed but managed to suck in your lips at the last second. In your moment of unbridled joy you’d completely forgotten about the other shoe. “What do you want?” you asked, trying not to let your bitterness show

“It is a big request, so a payment of equal value would be in order.”

You had a pretty good guess as to what he was talking about. “Ramshackle?”

“You catch on quick.”

“Azul, the last time we had this talk, you left me homeless. Are you seriously trying to do that to me again?”

“You don’t have much else to offer I’m afraid.”

“I mean, I could work at the lounge.”

“For way longer than we’re both here at school.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You weren’t business oriented by any means but you knew that even if this succeeded you still needed a place to live and you didn’t have enough rapport with any dorm to become an actual resident, you had to think. With a subtle click of your tongue you opted to try the one thing you knew from all your years watching tv. “I’d like to negotiate.”

Azul’s cool, businessman composure cracked into an amused smirk, with how little you knew of contract law he could have easily said no and you’d never question it. Yet in a weird twist of fate he chuckled “negotiate? All right, what would you suggest?”

Maybe he was in a good mood, maybe your hubris impressed him, maybe he was struck by the spirit of benevolence itself, who knows? But now you had to work fast before the window closed.

You went over everything you could offer but none matched the scale of what you were hoping to get. “Well…” At the very least you needed to stall while you threw together a plan. Any plan.

“You did say it’s a long shopt, so there’s a chance this won’t even work.”

“I did, yes”

“What then?”

“Then the deal is off with my deepest apologies.”

“Has that always applied?”

“Yes.”

“Has it ever…happened? Where you couldn’t hold up your end?”

“No. This is the first deal I’m making with any kind of uncertainty”

“Really? Why? Does Ramshackle mean that much to you?”

“One part Ramshackle, another part academic curiosity”

“To see if it can be done at all?”

“Pretty much.”

“And if you succeed? Apart from helping me, what happens?”

“Well the possibilities there are endless, from scholarships to business opportunities”

“Do I get a partial credit? Or just a mention?” you smiled hoping your statement sounded like a joke, or at least enough of one.

“Is that what you wish to negotiate?”

You were about to speak but then it hit you. Shared credit….Shared custody….Shared building!

“No, I actually wanted to offer split custody of the dorm.” You weren’t sure if ‘custody’ was the word but perhaps if you sounded confident enough he wouldn’t take too much note.

“Really?” There was laughter in his voice, he was clearly enjoying this.

“Well the way I see it, You only really need the ground floor, with the lounge and kitchen, there’s no real need for the upstairs.”

“Yes, the plan was to take out the upstairs floor in favor of a higher ceiling”

“Okay, but what if we did this; have the main floor as the cafe and the upstairs as my living quarters, you’d have night security, clean up…”

“If that’s really all you provide I’m not seeing how this brings anything special.”

It’s true, it didn’t. So you had to think what you, exclusively, could bring.

“What about the ghosts? They were there before me and we’ve actually become good friends. If Grimm and I leave, they might get lonely again and start terrorizing customers, what then? Are you going to kick them out of the only home they’ve ever known?”

At this Azul put a hand on his chin thoughtfully and you knew you’d found your foot hold.

“Not to mention the Gargoyle club. They come around often to admire the ramshackle gargoyles and I don’t think Malleus will be happy to see them gone, but if I’m living upstairs you could say it was my request and you were too benevolent to say no.”

You didn’t like dropping the Fae princes name for anything, but you were grasping at any straws you could at this point. “Plus, after living there for so long I know how the building is and so I know all the handy tricks for the heat, stove, lights and all that stuff. So for letting me live in above your new cafe you get ghost control, a gargoyle alibi, and old building maintenance all for free.” You hoped dearly that the free part of your offer tipped the scales in your favor.

Azul looked like he was holding back some laughter, whether it was for pretenses or out of guilt for finding your desperation funny was beyond you but you didn’t much care so long as it actually worked.

“I can’t say I disagree with your argument, however the cost of building a separate apartment would cost more than simply tearing out the upper floor.”

You bit back the aggravated groan that was starting to rise. “Uhm…well…”

“So here’s a counter offer. If I succeed in holding up my end of the deal, I get the lower floor, all that you’ve offered AND you working at the new cafe. For free of course.”

“Do I get a lunch break and coffee?”

“Half hour lunch break, discounted goods.”

“Further discount for overtime?”

“Depending on what.”

“Probably coffee.”

“Then yes.”

“Deal.”

Azul stood to begin drawing up the contract and while you thought over everything, you found yourself calling out to him. “Hey, Azul”

“Yes?”

“Whether this works or not. I’m…I’m glad you’re giving it a shot” You looked down as you said it in case some tears got brave behind your eyes. You hadn’t noticed Azul’s gentle smile as he answered “let’s hope it works.”

Weeks had passed and turned into months since you’d made the deal with Azul, and that time you’d seen him talking quite a lot with Ortho and the tablet Idia used to attend classes on his behalf. It made sense to talk to the technomancers but you found yourself very surprised when you went to the library and found him having an animated discussion with Lilia, who seemed just as excited.

Each new day you thought more about home, how your family was doing. If a lot of time had passed. If they knew somehow that you were alive, or if they were trying to move on without you. At first you didn’t mind the wait. The task was complicated and you had classes to think about. But as time went, it began to eat away at you until anticipation turned into anxiety.

You were pacing the floor of the ramshackle dorm, wondering if you should check how things were going. It had been 4 months since you’d signed the contract and now everything was just a waiting game for you. Azul wasn’t really one to provide updates and that alone made you even more anxious. You had just decided to go to Octavinelle when there was a knock at your door. Admittedly you ended up running to open it, the anticipation filling your veins with an unbearable amount of nervous energy as you swung the door open with maybe a little too much force.

Azul stood calmly on the other side, his expression gave nothing away as you stood face to face. “Good morning, y/n.” He said

“Hey.” You said breathlessly

“May I come in?”

“Yeah, sorry. Right this way.”

Upon closing the door behind you, Azul followed you to the living room, taking in the layout of the dorm as he did. “How have you been?” He asked

“Oh you know, class, chores, whatever category you put Ace and Grimm in, you?”

“Quite busy but feeling just as fulfilled” As he spoke, Azul reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what looked to be an old cordless phone from, if you weren’t mistaken, the 90’s. It was jet black and looked sort of blocky. If anything it reminded you of the one from the movie ‘Scream’ and you had to wonder how he’d fit that into his pocket. “Is that…” you asked

“Yes. The first model of the interconnected phone, ready for its first test.”

You looked at it slack jawed. You’d believed it was possible, but to see it in front of you was almost like a dream. You were debating on pinching yourself just to see if anything happened. Azul, however, was unfazed by your gaping and went on to explain “after much trial and error, we’d finally made a device strong enough to reach further than twisted wonderland as we know it and keep a signal. There’s no guarantee it will reach your world but it’s the best model so far. We’ve tried many different number combinations to reach other realms and we believe yours would be number 17.”

There it was again. The swelling, the same one that threatened to overflow through your eyes. As you eyed the phone you could feel your heart beat getting erratic. Was this it? Was this the day you would finally hear their familiar voices. “Try to temper your expectations though. There’s still no guarantee since it is still technically a tester. But still, I look forward to hearing the results.” With that, Azul handed you the phone. You smiled as you accepted it yet there were too many emotions going through you to be able to speak, so you let your tears fall as you nodded enthusiastically. Azul smiled in return and wished you luck as he headed out while all you could do was wave. It was finally the moment of truth.

The next day at school you sought Azul out, you found him during lunch and made a beeline for him. “Hey, Azul.”

“Ah, prefect, and how are you today?”

“I’m good, actually I was wondering. Are you busy this evening? Around dinner time?”

“Hmm not to my knowledge, why?”

“Uhm well, you worked super hard on that favor for me so I wanted to ask if you wanted to come by for dinner, nothing too fancy, just a homemade thing.”

Azul eyed you suspiciously, but figured you weren’t lying. Not to mention it certainly was better than coffee and an apple, which admittedly had been most of his meals in the past few months. “All right, what time?”

“Seven works.”

“Sounds good, see you then.”

“See you.” then you turned and left with a quick wave, leaving him feeling more than a little curious.

When Azul arrived at Ramshackle he seemed as aloof and confident as always where as you were almost bouncing as you opened the door. “Hey” you said “Dinner has just been plated, I hope you’re hungry”

You lead him to the kitchen where a savory smell greeted his nose. As he sat at the old yet spotless table he looked over at the counter where 2 plates sat, the still steaming food looking amazing to him who hadn’t eaten since lunch. You wasted little time bringing the plates and cutlery over and after some small talk you both dug into your meals. The food was delicious, and each ingredient that danced on his palette held just the right amount of spice or seasoning, it felt like a dish that would be served for a family dinner, it radiated warmth and a sense of comfort. “This is very good.” He said

“Thanks, my mom made it a lot at home, it’s actually my favorite thing of hers.”

“Really? I thought you didn’t know the recipe.”

You smiled broadly “I didn’t.”

Azul paused and looked at you so you continued “At least, not until last night.”

It took him a few seconds to realize what you meant but when he did, his eyes widened and he gasped “You mean?”

You couldn’t hold it anymore, you let out a small laugh as tears streamed down your cheeks “It worked, Azul, it really worked. It’s been so long since I heard moms voice…” you said as your voice cracked.

He was bewildered, he actually took a moment to let it sink in “It worked” he said quietly before clasping his hands together in delight “I’m so glad.” Now you had your hand over your mouth as you both sobbed and laughed. Even he was beginning to feel tears forming in the corner of his eyes, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Well that’s good to hear. I guess I own part of ramshackle now.” He was more trying to sober himself, since this was usually the part where people’s joy turned to anger. He braced himself for you to start yelling but you never did, instead you stood up and threw your arms around his still sitting form “That’s fine by me.” You said. He was stunned, he didn’t move, he almost didn’t breathe as you hugged him tightly and said “Thank you, Azul. Thank you so much.”

His composure gave out, he couldn’t really define the feeling in his chest but he didn’t mind it, nor did he mind the tears that were falling. Not this time, anyway. With a shaky breath, he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. “You’re welcome.” He whispered.

[cloudcountry]

Scarlet (you certainly made me think each arc through), periwinkle, mauve, blush, vermilion, umber, Razzmatazz, timberwoolf, crimson, burgundy, and chartreuse :)

"SCARLET = You have influenced my decision/thoughts on something."

heheheheh always happy to be a brainworm parasite C:<

"PERIWINKLE = You make me laugh"

SGHHSHDSG IM GLAD

"MAUVE = You are really talented"

aww thats so sweet its almost suspicious

"BLUSH = Seeing you on my dash makes my day a little better."

............okay this is getting suspicious (THANK YOUUU :(((( WAHHH)

"VERMILION = You make me feel passionate"

GAHJSDHGJDSA !!!!! IM GLAD AWW :C

"UMBER = I want to know more about you"

i am shrouded in mystery no one will ever know me hehe

"RAZZMATAZZ = I would share my favorite food with you"

CHEESECAK :D

"TIMBERWOLF = I trust you"

omg fr??? LSYA IG HELP KSJHD!?!?!?

"CRIMSON = We should collaborate on something!"

THE WYA I GASPED WE TOTALLY SHOULD

"CHARTREUSE = You’re my homie"

youre my homie!!! and bully!!!!

"BURGUNDY = I get excited when I see posts from you"

ME TOO I GET IT yorue so silly bonk syou

[betweenthetimeandsound]

--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial

A crow hovered over Leila's shoulder, as if the morning breeze thought it didn't have enough of her bravado. Its wings grazed her cheek like a sandalwood kiss, one which would bring her through the sand of the beach and back to her mother's home, lined with lemon trees and jasmine flowers. But it was its caw which made her look twice and made her tremble.

She bit her lip, hoping that the pain would allow her to focus on this calming afternoon. The sun beat down on her like a new lightbulb, with her arms stinging from the heat. Something about it intrigued her, as she stood up to navigate her surroundings.

The coastline drew itself further and further, as Leila took a few steps forward to get a feel of the sand. In contrast the to the cool serenity of the periwinkle waves, the goldenrod sand actively conspired against her enjoyment. It dug into her toes, filling them up with grains until she shook herself out of them and kept running.

Another crow came at her face, but this time, it took salvage on her head. It peered down into her eyes, its wings swept up to block out the sky. Leila staggered.

"Shoo, little bird, shoo!" She rose her hand and waved it on its way, only for it to cling onto her finger. The bile fascination in her eyes only hid her fear, that she would lose those precious eyes to the beast only wanting a little food with minimal resistance.

"Why are you here?"

After crooking its neck to note its space. the crow dug further onto Leila's finger, making it bleed. A sudden silence imbued their presence, with the waves crashing relegated to white noise. Leila wiggled her fingers, but the bird remained, a companion in indifference.

Know carefully, so you could leave in peace. A voice rung in the air, but the bird didn't caw back at her. She blinked a few times before trying to hear it again.

"Who said that?" She asked, feeling her arm weigh down from the insistent bird. "Nobody else is here, and I want to relax a little."

The crow turned its neck back at her, its beak pointed at her soft shoulder.

You know better than to runaway, the voice communicated to her, only through the sound waves. Leila shivered. Your cowardice runs through your flesh.

It most certainly does not! She flung her hand up to watch the bird fly, only to tumble back into the sand, arms outstretched. Another crow came along in the distance, to take note of their fragile prisoner. Leila stared into the sky, hoping the sun would come back and blind her, so to make them worthless.

Instead, the other crow replied, We could feast on you with the dogs of the beach. Or you could come and see the devil you forgot existed.

A knot tied around Leila's chest, pulling out frozen memories from her body. Poetic prayers which were laced with mercury after men reached her hands for her, only to find solace in the library. Questions of who she was and where she belonged, as she shuffled between courses and friends like a shadow. It knotted and paralyzed her, leaving her a sacrifice to fate.

"I do not know him anymore," she replied impulsively. At that moment, the ground shook, and a mutant hand appeared before her.

She reached out for the crows, but they settled on the demon's shoulders.

"Nobody told me the devil was real?" She squealed, panicked about her fate. "I thought it was--"

Not a metaphor, the first crow communicated. You know him now.

[ambiguouspuzuma]

Conscientious

Deacon Moreau listened to the charge sheet in silence. Some of the names he recognised, or at least felt sounded vaguely familiar, whilst others had completely passed him by, but he greeted each of them with the same quiet satisfaction. It had been good work. A career of it: putting sinners to the knife, and cleansing the world with their blood. The city guard had caught him now, but they were always going to, eventually. He had no regrets.

"Stop there." An errant word had caught his attention, a broken log caught in the stream of worthy deeds. "What was that?"

There was a brief pause as the executor looked back up her notes, mentally rewinding a couple of sentences. "Uh... and each marked by his sadism, a seeming bloodlust which..."

"That part, yes. That's not right. The sadism. I'll contest that one."

His interrogator sighed, and uncapped her pen for annotations. "I suppose you want to say that they were marked by your knife instead?"

"I want to say that I'm not a sadist," Deacon Moreau explained. "In fact, I consider myself to be a particularly conscientious killer."

"What?" The pen remained poised, not about to write anything some obviously false. "You cut some of your victims thousands of times, pre-mortem. I've seen the autopsies. Why linger over it so much, if you didn't want it to hurt?"

"Oh, the pain is a tool, certainly," he considered. "As much as the blade that brings it about, you might argue: a certain sharpness in the mind, a cool steel clarity upon the skin. But it's always for their benefit, never my own."

The executor understood the first part. She was a skilled operator of that self-same tool, when she had to be. Not all prisoners were so forthcoming about their crimes, and she had a range of her own blades in the case between her legs, tools for coaxing out confessions, like the pin used to extract a periwinkle snail from its coiled shell. But they never thanked her for it. Quite the reverse.

"You mean to say that they want excessive cruelty? They ask you for it?"

"Pain isn't cruelty," the Deacon told her, as one explaining a simple concept for the dozenth time. "Do they ask for it? In the end, they beg me for death, though I'm not sure that's a fair reflection of their will. But no: at the start, when I find them in their dens of iniquity, they simply beg me to take mercy on their souls - and that is precisely what I do."

"With a knife."

"With a slow knife," he clarified. "You know, in its own way, a swift death is the worst cruelty an assassin could ever inflict upon his victim. Gone, in an instance: with no chance to speak their final words, to make their peace, prepare themselves for the beyond."

"Do you find they are better prepared with parts missing?" she asked him. "Does the beyond have a weight limit?"

"They are unburdened, in a sense, yes. I take the weights from their chests; the yoke from their shoulders. But they have to cut the tie themselves. All I buy them is time: time to reflect, repent, or beg for forgiveness. When I am done with them, they are fully redeemed - all sins drawn out, like bad humours from a bloodletting, the flesh that lures a tapeworm from its hole. They leave this world clean, absolved in the clarity only pain can bring."

"You can't truly believe that," the executor protested, absent-mindedly brushing her case. When she took the knives to a suspect, they rarely saw it as an opportunity to confess their sins, and she had to fight them on that all the way. They only ever begged her to stop. "You would prefer your own death swift, would you not? Your execution? Or would you prefer I treat you as if you had denied all of these charges?"

"I need no time to repent," the Deacon told her. "My own conscience is clear. I have done everything for the cause, and preserved every soul I can. As I said, I am a conscientious killer."

"I heard you," the executor said; her mind made up, her case unclasped. The Deacon might well be telling the truth, or at least what he believed to take its place. He might truly have no regrets. But he deserved to. "Unfortunately for you... I am not."

[kesil]

❝ in another life, you’d have made an excellent criminal. ❞ - periwinkle to faust / @thronelessking ╰┈➤ STARTER PROMPTS : Sherlock Holmes ( 2009 ) ( accepting )

"In another life, certainly," Faust says, mildly. His fleshwarped third eye crinkles half-shut in amusement, and even his natural eyes look for a moment like he's on the verge of smiling. "I would not dream of doing anything so heinous as a crime. Why, I hold the law of the land in immense esteem, regardless of its… moral value. Or lack thereof.

You'd be familiar with such laws, yes? From your time on the farm? Farmers have so much to do with law and crime, I'm led to understand. I presume your immense physical prowess is due to your time spent peacefully walking back and forth to the local guard post to ensure they're aware of any crimes being committed."

Faust reaches up to stroke Tulip's neck while he speaks, careful to stay in her field of view. He's unfamiliar with horses—and with "horses"—because of Alkenstar's inability to grow enough food to support them, but he imagines they're no less skittish than any other large animal. No sense in getting trampled when he isn't even performing field research, just spending some time in the stables with Periwinkle while she looks after her horse.

Her... "horse."

[scarletooyoroi]

"Do you still believe in the Anemo Archon, despite being so far from your land of birth?" The adeptus is curious to Thoma's response.

To think that he couldn’t even hear their arrival, much less come to anticipate it before advancing in the brunt of their excursion. Thoma’s travels to Sumeru were going at a pace many would consider breakneck even with the multiple challenges pressed within his path. The shine of a steadied, heat driven soul along with the warpath of the sacred spear of Homa cleaved a clear path through the dangerous stirred by lingering curses or through grim summoning by the Ley Lines. Amidst this path as he comes to explore Liyue a smidge as the nation of indomitable foundation, Geo being it’s beloved element, the arrival of one of its guardian deities had come entirely unexpected.

Their eyes that belie millennias of experience easily captures him once the final remnants of pierced and bisected Lawachurls forged of Geo are allowed to disperse to dark mist. The edges of daybreak gradually peek upon the horizon, warming the blanket of night with a stir of periwinkle and soft golds.

What Thoma initially learns is how the adeptus isn’t one for conversations too prolonged. Topics that bridge upon one’s beginnings, the kindle of resolve or carelessness humans could enact giving him an idea on how they could communicate in the future. That said, the blonde’s heart was struck by a particular chord as the forward question was delivered before him. “Ah..?” Initially stunned from his infamous composure, it was a surreal sensation just being that easily seen through. While it comes as no surprise that the Conqueror of Demons could catch the tellings that he’s a child of Barbatos, never before did he drive thoughts in this.. particular part of his faith.

Thoma and his relationship with the divine is still being developed to this day. Despite his mother holding a need to ensure that his belief and prayer to Barbatos remain strong, growing up, breaking from the nest of Mondstadt in order to explore the world at large, from high successes to death grazing perils had certainly sculpted the youth, bringing the sharpness of maturity and certain answers to his being.

He relents to that answer by giving a firm nod of the head.

”I do. My faith in his existence, of his blessings running strong through all of Teyvat, none of that has changed despite Inazuma being realized as a home for me.” Even underneath the banner of the Narukami Ogosho, to the sharp, awe and fear aspiring thunder awakening the warrior’s path within him, the tenderness carried from Mondstadt is cradled tenderly in his heart.

“The Seven in many ways I see are ingrained with our world all in all. Barbatos’s ideal of freedom is a fine way that I hold within my breast. Similar to a crisp morning breeze.”

“From what I learned, freedom is one of the great building blocks to help a peaceful future slot into place. So I’ll proudly carry that in place while other aspects keep it on the straight and narrow.”

@alatusatlas