#obsidian pipe

[whyeverr]

BETTER DAYS

This decaying Victorian mansion has been occupied by the same cursed bloodline for over a century, haunted by their own inexorable fall from grace—and fortune—with the passing of each generation.

The manor bears the wounds of their torment: its once grand exterior crumbling under the slow encroachment of vines; foul mold and mildew crawling up the walls from uncountable damp winter nights with the heat left off; copper pipes and wiring ripped from its walls; family heirlooms vanishing into the obsidian veil of the night.

Sometimes the most chilling hauntings aren't abandoned at all.

Lot details:

Lot Type: Haunted House Residential, 5 bed/2 bath 

Price: §165,424

Size: 40x30

I’ve used from loads of different packs here — you'll need Paranormal Stuff to make stuff, well, paranormal...

Created in celebration of Simblreen 2023! @simblreenofficial

Download via the Sims 4 Gallery or tray files via Sim File Share. Please don’t re-upload or share without credit. Thank you!

[hanlimz]

[midnight thoughts: park jongseong + end of beginning]

rando posting on a thursday night bc this has been in my drafts 4ever. no summary you die like men. maybe i'll write a part 2. maybe.

whether the guitar is a meager subject bending to his will or an extension of his very own body, you are unable to decide. enveloped by the dim lighting and clouds of cigarette smoke, the black stained alder wood manages to melt into the obsidian of his leather jacket. the angularity of his face cuts through the darkness; the length of his nose is perfectly straight, the slant of his jaw is sharp enough to cut, and his eyebrows are two, thick lines of focus. he plays with so much precision that it almost makes you overlook the way he still purses his lips when he's concentrating—a habit he was never able to shake. it transports you back to a simpler time in which he wasn't a rockstar. instead, he was a college student studying business management who had a silly band on the side. he was a college student who never planned to make it big, who never planned to leave.

a break in the set forces you from the depths of your memories. he is almost unrecognizable as he works the crowd; a sea of people at this intimate show are screaming for him, begging for his attention, and you can't help but laugh to yourself. years ago, he used to play for you. with a timeworn guitar and a handful of hope, he shared his musings of the future. they were long-shots, pipe dreams, fantasies he entertained when his assignments proved too difficult and his imagination too wild. his voice was sultry as the nimble tips of his fingers waltzed over the fretboard; the melodies he created were happier than the ones he sings now. his stories chronicled a life with you, but now they're bittersweet—tales of olde, reminders of the past.

the show is coming to a close; the throngs of listeners are beginning to thin out. minute by minute, there are less bodies to hide behind, less background to blend into—but, you can't seem to make yourself leave. there's a part of you that wants to be seen, to be noticed by him once more. turning to the bartender, you order an elixir to forget. before you can take the first sip into oblivion, however, a shadow sits down next to you. he smells familiar—amber, sandalwood, a dark thicket. he orders a whiskey sour, and it reminds you of the first time you met. like an aged souvenir, you hold the memory delicately in the palms of your hands.

"what does it feel like, hm?" there's a momentary pause, then you hum into the thick, musky air, "to be a star?"

he takes in a labor-ridden breath. when he lets it out, it seems like more than air escapes him; the heavy exhale is almost painful as he ponders the question. a minute passes, and the quiet is stifling. "it feels good, at first. everything you want, anytime you want. but, it becomes hollow after a while—all the drinks, all the blurry faces, all the memories melting together," he admits. "it's like i'm floating, y'know ... aimless, in space, millions of miles away."

"is it lonely up there?" you ask.

"most of the time, yeah," he answers, stopping for a few seconds to think. "but, it's what i wished for. it's what i wanted."

glancing over at him out of the corner of your eye, you see he's still nursing his drink. the fingers of his left hand trace circles around the rim of the glass while he itches at his wrist with his right. the blonde streaks in his hair are tousled with a mixture of gel and sweat, and the darker parts fall forward to shield his gaze from yours. remnants of the boy you used to know, used to love are resurfacing from the deep recesses of your mind—where you had kept them hidden for years.

"you're still a terrible liar," you say.

his body tenses at the comment. as his muscles remain rigid, he scoffs, disbelieving and defensive, "what do you even know about me, anymore?"

"nothing, really ..." behind your blasé facade, there's a particular ache. his words cut you, a serrated blade shoved between the gaps of your ribs; it hurts because you know he's right. he is no longer yours to know, no longer yours to love. soon, you fear that he may not even be yours to remember—disintegrating, falling, lost to the sands of time. "i knew who you were, though. kind and gentle, the guy who would buy me flowers for no reason. every day, you would call me to tell me you loved me. you would cook dinner, light candles, wash my hair ..."

it grows quiet again; the only sounds filling the air are a symphony of closing ambience. dishes are clattering, glasses are clinking, and chairs are scratching against the floor. this time, however, the silence is not deafening. in a way, it is almost familiar—reminiscent of spring nights spent in the diner close to campus, faces full of pancakes and hearts full of joy. but, this quietude—while being peaceful—also breeds cruelty.

"i'm sorry," his voice pierces through the wisps of smoke and the faint scent of burning incense off in the distance. he leaves the rest unspoken—for leaving, for not saying goodbye, for not giving you an answer. but, you hear it. in spite of it all, you hear it. the words don't penetrate the toughened shell around your heart; instead, they echo in your mind. everything you wanted but nothing you needed.

you hesitate, "i don't know if i can believe you."

"why did you come then?" he asks, voice solemn.

pins and needles prick at the skin of your cheeks as the question makes the tips of your fingers go cold. it's almost unreal. he shouldn’t have the right to question you like this, to interrogate you like you’re the criminal—like you’re the one who left. his words make slow work of you like a bullet to the stomach. as you pour out everything for him, you come to the bitter realization that it ended this way all those years ago. it would always end this way. you, dead on the floor; him, gun in hand. “i wanted to see for myself, i guess—” you spit, “if it was all worth it.”

turning towards him, you break down the wall that time and distance had erected between the two of you. there's a ferocity that shines in your eyes; it makes them glow with a certain conviction. he avoids your pointed stare, instead choosing to swirl his watered down drink. only now do you allow yourself to take a closer look at him. his skin is pallid, a ghost of the deep, tawny beige you used to run your fingers along; the dark circles under his eyes accompany sunken cheeks and slumped shoulders. fatigue seeps down to his very being, and this life the has managed to sap the life from his veins.

"was it worth it, jongseong?"

hearing his name fall from your lips seems to send a bolt of pure lightning down the length of his spine. no one has called him that in years; the thought makes you wonder who else he left behind. the corners of his eyes crinkle as he shuts them tight, trying to be anywhere but squirming under the weight of your gaze. after a few moments, he shakes his head. it starts slowly, a gentle back and forth movement before it becomes violent and erratic. when he stops, the man finally connects with you.

his rich, umber eyes are the one of the only things you still recognize. behind the severity of his face, there is a softness dancing within them; at his waterline, tears twinkle like diamonds under a jeweler's light. jay has never cried, never felt the touch of someone who loves him for who he is—but, jongseong? jongseong misses that feeling. the freedom of being loved unconditionally, the all-encompassing warmth of not just being seen but being known.

"it wasn't worth you."

[kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon]

New Good Omens fic: Shake Like Hell and Spell Success

Warning: contains extreme self-indulgence, proceed at your own risk!

Rating: Explicit

CW and tags: Lingerie, Crowley in lingerie, PWP, smut with feelings, many many more tags at AO3

Thanks so much to @on1occasionfork for beta work! And @kotias for the Writers Guild prompts, and @goodomensafterdark for being the best breeding ground for smutwork I've ever encountered. ❤️❤️❤️

Summary:

Set after S1/Armageddon. Newly smitten (I believe), Aziraphale tries to create the perfect first-time scenario but has difficulties. As usual, Crowley doesn’t know what’s going on until he does, and then he knocks it out of the park on his first swing, because, demon? There's lingerie involved.

Excerpt: 

Aziraphale blinked. He’d changed clothes. Though with Crowley, what did that mean? He often just miracled his attire on a whim, so this wasn’t out of character. Though Aziraphale couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Crowley in such sweeping… concealment?

He looked regal and silver-screenish, posing up there on the iron spiral in a long dressing gown of blackest midnight. The high collar clasped at his neck, and a trailing asymmetry of obsidian buttons and gems swirled down the entire length to the floor. Long sleeves wafted to almost his fingertips, with only the suggestion of bare toe and foot at the hem. His hair was a wild blaze over it all. The candle flame on a Satanic taper, Aziraphale thought, a bit wildly. He looked like a cult leader. Dear god. Ridiculous. He had thought Crowley looked well today in his standard uniform of sleek contemporary black. But this…so buttoned up, so alluring, waiting for someone to discover the secret pattern that would undo those buttons, gape open that rippling cloth.

Aziraphale could feel the sweat starting under his own too-tight collar. His mouth dried up. His throat harsh with sudden desperation, he swallowed and forced himself to speak. “Oh! Um. Wonderful. Capital. An evening in? Dressing gowns, smoking pipes, reading books, lovely, lovely. Just a quiet night in. Just what I’d like.”

“Absolutely right on the night in part,” Crowley said. He stalked slowly down the stairs, to the faint strains of Dvořák. “But hard disagree on all the rest of that.”

Oh. Oh? “Oh. Really?”

“Really,” Crowley repeated. The robe had a decorative sash hanging careless and loose around Crowley’s hips, and he took one end of it, twirled it like a film star as he sauntered up to Aziraphale, who stood frozen under the golden afternoon light from the dome overhead. “Don’t think I don’t appreciate it, Aziraphale. All of this?” He waved at the plant, the books. “Very nice. But unnecessary.”

“Unnecessary?” But Aziraphale knew exactly what he meant. As he’d suspected — the whole affair had been a botch. But they were finally running at the same speed, finally standing still at the same moment. The niceties of courting were just that.

Crowley slid the sash through his fingers, and let it drop. “I think we should go upstairs, angel.”

[yurmomsawh0r]

Mᴜᴛᴇ ᴘᴛ. 2// 18+ MDNI!!!

Warnings: Physical Abuse, violence, murder, P in V intercourse, Oral (m. Receiving), unprotected sex, squirting, cervix kissing, afab! Mute reader! [Reader suffers from ptsd] Mental abuse. Infidelity, exhibition if you squint.

Geto, Gojo, Nanami, Megumi, Daisuke, Iwaizumi, Uzui, Tanjiro, Levi, Muzan, Itachi, Kaneki, Seshomaru, Ban, Hak,

Omggggg! I was going to make this the last one but I'm gonna do another part because I had an IDEAAAA LOLLLLLL

Part 1, Part 2, part 3

Enjoy!!!!

•

The days had quickly gone by since you came to live in Seattle. You looked out the window to the cold streets filled with the white blankets of snow filling every corner and crevice.

Although you had on extra layers, you couldn't help but let the shivers scourge all throughout your body. You looked up peaking a glance at the brooding man across from you. He was typing away on his phone - not a care in the world.

Certainly not caring about the simple fact that he had just bought another human being - like her life was just disposable as the cost of money.

He hasn't said a word to you since you both had left your husband's estate, and that was almost two hours ago. His (h/l) (h/c) hair swept gracefully lining his face in a perfect frame.

Broad shoulders peaking from under his dress shirt and his legs crossed over his knee at the ankle.

You couldn't help but find the brood attractive. Taking a quick whiff, you could smell the cologne that filled your nostrils. He smelled nice, but that didn't mean he was anything as such.

A click of a button indicated that he had shut his phone off, sending you back on alert. You had been so wrapped up in the musky scent he was spreading, you almost forgot about the predicament you were in.

You had forgotten the possibility of him being worse than your husband. You were already mute, and that alone made it easier for him to get away with his dirty deeds.

The thought made your toes curled. You looked away from your captor, trying to draw away any unwanted attention from him.

- Once again, you were trapped with no way of escaping.

"Don't look so upset. No harm will come to you." The baritone from his voice startles you. Sitting up straight, you keep your head down - showing a single sign of submission. Too afraid to glance in his eyes incase he takes it as disrespect ; unleashing an unown terror upon your body.

A beating that your body couldn't take again.

"Y/n, look at me."

Like an alluring lull pulling her from the depths of her darkness - you quickly glanced up at him. As if his command was law.

"You are safe with me, no harm will come to you. Do you understand?" He commands you again. Even though his words were harsh and demanding, there was a hint of soften in his tone. A delicate strum of gentleness to sooth your neverending thoughts.

You only nod as your response. The only response that you could give.

With a sigh, he goes back to silence - leaving you to wonder about your new life to come.

♡

• 1 year later •

The maids were bustling around trying to get preparations ready for the big ball tonight. Underground organizations of all criminals alike. Even the standard business tycoons and government officials come crawling from the facade they put on just to get away from all the press and paparazzi.

The party would be held on one of (New husband's name) estates. When you first arrived here you were struck with awe. The front gates had obsidian black iron bars that held the initials of his name upon them. The long drive way was paved with marble tiles that rounded all the way to the from the entrance, centered with a stone fountain that spouted water from it's pipes.

The outside was grand but held simplicity to it. Not to over done but created with equal amounts of grandeur and contempt. To put it simply, it looked like money.

As most of the butlers and maids were zipping back and forth to make sure everything was perfectly inplace, some of them had other discretions mind.

Your husband had always been a very private person. Very private indeed. He was never one to expose his affairs to anyone, but the moment he laid eyes on you, he wanted to take you and lock you in the highest tower his money could buy. You were too perfect, to beautiful for unwanted eyes to see.

He wanted to hold you, caress you, kiss you. . . . Fuck you. Anything to have you near him. Buying you wasn't his best action but he didn't know what else to do, so he did what he always did when he wanted something. Exude dominance and use his wealth.

He would say he's no different from your husband, but how could he even compare himself to that man. How could you!

You both couldn't. Not when he made you feel so good.

"You gotta keep quiet Mrs. [h/l/n], you wouldn't want those pesky maids listening, now would you?" He whispered haughtly into your ear while his fat member rubbed against your walls.

He would never let them see you, but he damn sure was going to let everyone know who you belonged to. "I-I can't [h/n]" your walls fluttered around him - all because he called you by his name. Your new name. One that you've come to love so much more.

He groaned thrusting upward into you. You felt so good around him. Gushy walls spilling it's contents onto his boxers. You essence created a white ring from the friction.

He was big and thick, nothing like you'd ever felt before. You squeeze onto his shoulders, bouncing harder on his lap as he gripped your backside to help you chase your 3rd release. You didn't care who heard you.

You wanted everyone to hear you. To hear how this man fucked you into oblivion. To let them know he fucked your voice back into you. To let them know he washes away all your pain and sorrow.

He gripped your waist, pulling you up from off of him. The sudden action causing a wet 'pop' sound to echo throughout his office.

Behind the closed doors, the service memebers still listened in on the erotic sounds. Their bodies hot and bothered from only just the sounds their lord and lady made. As if they could feel every grunt and moan course through them.

You were now bent over her his desk - slipping your kryptonite back into you so effortlessly - rutting into you with perfect rhythm. You stood on the tips of your toes to accommodate him. His desk was kinda high [Levi is gonna be tall in this so hush lmao!ヾ(≧▽≦*)o] so all the pressure of his length was to much - the only way to alleviate the pain was to stand as high as you could.

He pulled his hips back, snapping them forward against the soft pads of your cheeks. Watching them jiggle with every thrust. He wouldn't dare to let anyone see this wonderful sight that belonged to him.

This was his very personal and private show - only to be viewed by none one. He loved the way you quivered and moaned. From every lick to your neck, to the biting of your soft flesh. He wanted to own you in the best way possible.

From behind he gripped your mounds, pulling you back harder against him. "Let them hear you." He grunted, not caring for his earlier words. Rutting faster into you. Your yelps increased as his speed did.

You were going to cum again, and you could tell it was going to be a big one. "Who's making you feel this fucking good baby?"

"'-ts you h/n. You make me feel so -ahh!!" Your body convulsed as your orgasm struck your [b/t] body.

You lifted one leg on top of his desk to help steady you. Juiced from your cunnie flew on his Armani suit pants but could care less. All he seemed to care about was helping you reach your release - which would soon be followed by him stuffing you full if his seed.

Your ass clapped back against him as his thrust got sloppy, letting you know he was close. He held your hips in place, giving one final thrust - stilling himself.

"Ahhh ffuck!" His pulsing tip kissing the entrance of your cervix. His body jerked against your, and your fluids mixing well together as he spilled into you.

You felt his warm seed spilling from you as well as it's warmth frothing your walls.

You flinched as he pulled his now flaccid cock from you, your mixed bodily fluids fall onto his expensive carpet. His new favorite carpet that now held a piece of you.

After he had cleaned you and himself off, he told you to put your party dress back on while he fixed himself up - lighting one of his cigars after the process.

The pungent smell of sex and smoke now filled the room. His stoic expression now placed back on his face - as if he didn't just fuck you brains out while groaning in your ear. Just the thought of him fucking you again sparked the lust back into you.

You were far to sore to continue but if he wanted to - you'd allow him to have you again, and again, and again.

"Enough with the look -" He spoke while gripping the underside of your chin. Placing a kiss on your lips, he bend down to help you step into your dress. " - We have wasted enough time playing around." As if that was your fault. He knew it wasn't, he knew that he couldn't resist you even if he tried.

From his position crouched infront of, he looked so dashing and handsome. Even with the fat cigar that hung from the corner of his mouth added to the poise and elegance he carried about.

He took a whiff of your arousal, feeling himself stiffen almost instantly. He pulled up your dress, making sure to take his time pulling it over your ass. His nose trailing up your body - skimming up against your neck.

You pulled your arms through the straps, helping him assist you. Once he was done, he hesitantly stepped away from you. Afraid he would lose control. Again.

You fixed your hair as best you could. At least to make yourself seem decent and normal. When you lifted your eyes to meet his, you were shocked to see the fierce gaze he placed on you. A cocky smirk never leaving his face as he eyed your luscious body up and down.

He held of an outstretched hand for you to grab. "You ready my love?" Shyly, you took his hand in yours. Feeling safe and secure as his big hand covered yours.

You did mean it when you said you felt safe. He's provided so much comfort and protection to you in such a little time you've known him. You and Dan had been together for 3 years and it took you so long to even open up to him. But this wasn't like that. This felt right.

"I'm ready." You said softly. He gave you a soft smirk before his expression dropped into nothing. You were the only one who got to see different sides of him. It made you feel even more special that something so meaningful was only meant for you.

He held the door open for you - pushing you through. The maids all jerked apart, trying to appear busy and not so *cough* *cough* hot and bothered.

A blush crept on your face, but you tried to keep your face as emotionless as your husband did. You weren't so embarrassed from them listening. In fact, you think you enjoyed giving them a little show. You wanted them to know you belonged him just as much as he did you too.

"I hoped you all enjoyed the audio. Now get the fuck back to work and don't let it happen again."

His words possibly shook them to their core and it's possible some of them might actually do what he says, but you both knew that their was a possibility that none would follow that order. You both knew that it would happen again and again - and deep down, you both wanted them to listen. You were all addicted to the sinfulness of it all.

Part 3 coming soon! . . .

[yandere-writer-momo]

Heart Shaped Wound:

Chapter 51

Heart Shaped Wound

……………………………………

Author’s note: Here is the continuation of chapter 50! Please enjoy!! Hanayama’s ending is next!! So stay tuned!

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

    Baki shook (your name) with wide eyes. The young man desperately made an attempt to stir her while Hanayama held Katsumi up by the scruff of his shirt. 

      “(Your name)? (Your name), wake up-“

      “She just fell asleep from eating so much.” Natsue tried to diffuse the situation but Baki gave her a look that could kill.

        “What the hell is wrong with you guys? That is clearly a lie. What has gotten into everyone-“

      “(Your name) agreed to marry me.” Katsumi piped up, Hanayama dropped him in shock. The yakuza glared at Katsumi in anger. Agreed to marry Katsumi… why on earth would she agree to be with Katsumi and not him? Hanayama was better in every way-

       “She’s unconscious. I don’t think there was any consent at all.” Baki cradled her body close to his. The younger man felt incredibly protective over the young woman since she was momentarily defenseless. “Let’s go Hanayama. We’re taking her to the hospital.”

       Baki scooped (Your name) up in his arms. The young man made sure to comfortable rest her head on the crook of his arm while Hanayama led him to the limousine. 

      A grumble escaped her lips and she opened her eyes for a minute. “Baki? What are you doing here?”

        Baki smiled down at her, his arms gave her a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take you somewhere safe, okay?”

      “Mhm.” (Your name) yawned, her eyes heavy yet again. “Okay, Baki. I trust you.”

      She fell asleep again. Hanayama kept the Orochis away while he led Bali out the door. His obsidian eyes narrowed at the family for what they’ve done. Bastards… he should’ve done it first.

     Hanayama held the door open for Baki before he crawled in beside Baki and (Your name). The yakuza ordered Kizaki to drive to the hospital immediately. They needed to know what was in your system…

.

.

.

        (Your name) woke up in the hospital to see Baki. The young man clutched her hand while he leaned over her in a chair. He was fast asleep…

        (Your name) glanced around the white room in shock. How did she get here? She was last with Katsumi who proposed to her and then everything was fuzzy…

       Baki stirred once he felt her move. Baki shot up once he realized she was awake.

      “(Your name)!” Baki shouted in surprise, the young man covered his mouth to conceal his outburst. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to shout.”

      “It’s okay! I’m a bit confused on how I ended up here… what happened Baki?”

       Baki frowned at her, his eyes glanced at the tile floor. Should he tell her? He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news but this would protect her from Katsumi and his family in the future…

      “(Your name), the Orochi family drugged you.” Baki shared with a frown. (Your name) felt as if her world stopped. Katsumi and his family… drugged her?

        Baki held her hands to try to ground her while he watched her face twist with betrayal. He felt an anger boil up in his chest at the Orochi family. How could they do that to her? How could they betray her for their own selfish agenda? He was upset for (your name).

       “Hey… how about we go see Jack?” Baki offered (your name). His heart softened once her face lit up. He felt better now that he saw her smile. “He’s here in the hospital.”

       “Is he okay?”

      “Yes. Just a fractured leg.” Baki smiled at her. Baki put on the call light for the nurse to discharge (your name). “Let’s get you out of that hospital gown first. I don’t think it’s be proper to see him like that…”

      (Your name) giggled with a smile. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to be indecent around him.”

      Baki felt his heart clench. It was a shame (your name) cared so much about Jack… Baki wished she cared about him just as much… she was a wonderful girl. 

       Baki could see now why all his peers were fighting over her.

.

.

.

      (Your name) smiled when she saw Jack. The blond surprised to see her but he was thrilled none the less. 

       “Long time no see-“ (Your name) launched herself into the blonde giant. The tall man instantly held her close to him with a smile. His heart fluttered at the affection he received. God he had missed her touch… “Are you excited to see me or something?”

       “I’m just happy you’re okay.” (Your name) smiled up at Jack who blushed at her concern for him. Jack wasn’t used to someone caring so much about him. It was foreign to him… but ever since she came into his life. He had felt only positive feelings towards her… he loved her. “How’s your leg?”

       “It’s a minor fracture. At first I thought it was completely broken but I got lucky…” Jack smiled at her. “I’m a pretty tough guy. You don’t have to worry about me so much.”

     (Your name) put her finger up to his lips to silence him. “Of course I’m going to worry. I care about you.”

       Jack’s whole face was now a shade of red. The blonde turned his head to try to hide his blush. He was flattered by her feelings, he truly was… but he in now way deserved someone like her. He would only hurt her…

      Baki watched the two interact from the door way. A little green monster dug its fangs into his heart. He envied his half brother… he wished a girl cared about him as much as (your name) cared about Jack… lucky bastard.

      Baki turned to walk away but he ran into Hanayama who stood outside the door with a bouquet in hand.

       “Oh Hanayama, what are you-“

     “I heard (your name) woke up so I’m here to see her.” Hanayama interrupted Baki. “Is she here?”

      “Yeah, she right in with Jack-“ Hanayama rushed past Baki to see (your name) the yakuza frowned at the public display of affection in front of him. Jeez. What was Hanayama’s deal?

       Baki shrugged his shoulders and left. He didn’t want to be the third wheel to this drama. He’d see (your name) at a later date.

      Hanayama cleared his throat. (Your name) perked up at his company. “Oh hey. It’s been a minute, Kaoru.”

       (Your name) climbed off of Jack, much to his disappointment. The blonde tried to savor her leftover warmth while she went over to Hanayama. Brown eyes locked with Onyx with a competitive gleam. Hanayama always interrupted them…

      “I brought you roses since you were admitted…” Hanayama whispered, his eyes softened when they gazed upon (your name). Hanayama was openly smitten with the young woman. Didn’t Hanayama know how dangerous it was to show favoritism towards someone? He could get (your name) hurt… 

       “Thank you, Kaoru.” (Your name) accepted the roses. “You’re always so thoughtful.”

       Hanayama leaned down a pressed a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll drive you home. Do you want me to get you body guards?”

      “You really don’t have to-“

      “Nonsense. You’re in danger.” Hanayama put an arm around her to guide her out of the room. “Let me take care of you.”

      “Okay… good bye, Jack.” (Your name) turned her head to wave at the blonde. “I’ll visit you, okay?”

      Jack gave her a smile as he ignored Hanayama’s glare. “I look forward to it. Be safe.”

      Hanayama then led (your name) out the door. Jack took in a deep breath before he exhaled. (Your name) needed to be protected… she wasn’t safe anymore….

      And who better to protect her than Jack himself?

._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._.

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading! We’re continuing on the crazy train! Choo choo 

[themanicnami]

Catch All Titanium Spider Web (Totally Spies Inspired Binding Spell)

A binding spell to prevent another from being an obstacle to you or your goals.

Ingredients:

Craft Wire or Pipe Cleaners or other thin wire

Paper or Cloth Poppet

Marker

Jar with a lid

Black Peppercorn

(Optional) Garnet Chips/Pieces

(Optional) Obsidian Pieces

Black Candle

Steps:

Make your poppet/doll of the target you are intending to bind. Using your marker write onto the poppet the target's name

Using your craft wire bind up the poppet thoroughly and tightly in a manner like you tying someone up. While you are doing so, verbally or mentally chant: "Spider web, spider web - tie you tight. Spider web, spider web - bind you tight" or anything else you may prefer.

Once bond, drop your poppet into the jar with the crystals and black peppercorns.

Seal the jars lid tightly then burn the candle long enough to either melt it on top of the jar or have enough melted wax to pour it over the lid to seal it up.

Store the jar somewhere dark and hidden.

Like what I post? Want to support me or buy me a delicious coffee? Feel free to check out my Ko-Fi Page!

[spiritsong]

tag game ~

Thank you for tagging me @bhaalsdeepmuse, and for making the specification that this could be for Tavs/Durges, too. I started filling this out for myself, then before I knew it, I was like, "wait... what color do I view myself as? what IS my favorite food? what would I BE if I was food? Who... who even am I" and I noped out of there real quick 💀

SO here is Aune. durge!Aune this time as I did something like this for tav!Aune already —

Rules: Use this order and insert images according to how you view yourself/your character!

Animal — Black panther; It's her preferred wildshape, as she was raised beside a displacer beast for some years

Place — The fungal forests of the Underdark

Plant — Ghost pipe (monotropa uniflora); specifically, the rare red variant. (Tav!Aune is the standard white version!)

Character — Herself, I guess...? 😂

Season — Winter, as well as the very end of autumn

Hobby — Cultivating mushrooms. She prefers growing them on dead bodies, though 😌

Color — Muted earthy greens (& purples)

Crystal — Bloodstone (& obsidian)

Food — [REDACTED]

Tagging: @dragon--sage @dolceaspidenera @witch-from-a-block-of-flats @birb--birb @bi-ace-mess @solasgreatlydisapproves to do this if you so desire, for whomever you please <3

[berrypass-de-murdler]

1. Murder in Hollywood

It's the show version my good murdlers.

First thing to make clear, is there a design for every character no, but WILL there be a design for every character, planning on it yes, so uh... Dame Obsidian will be here eventually rip. Check the first post for designed characters ofc

BUT FOR THIS EPISODE...

DEDUCTIVE LOGICO - he's a magnifying glass and the logo... obviously lmao. Follows his in-book physical description to a 0, my deepest apologies, when I made this smol man I couldn't imagine him to be 6 feet tall, as such, the heights of the characters will be (sometimes very) off. Such as Logico being 3'4". Anyway, cartoon Logico is British, has an extreme Napoleon complex, and a humorously high-pitched voice for his angy personality. In this version he was originally just an actor who played a detective in the Midnight movies, until he naturally ends up in the face of real murder, day after day after day after

THE AMAZING AUREOLIN - my very first design, I was so stupidly proud of her original sketch that I turned it into... this entire project. I LOVE MY RABBIT DAUGHTER AND NO ONE CAN LAY A HAND ON HER - she made me get invested in the storyline after being framed and shit. ANYWAY, unlike most of the Murdlers who just kind of resemble animals, Auree is... just a rabbit. She is also British because because, and in this storyline, she was suspected of murdering her husband after he left her for making too little income. Now she has to raise her Marshmallow Peep-looking triplets on her own, with a target on her back at all times... I love her sm

MIDNIGHT III - For the least creative design there is probably, and the only non-anthro character, have this man whose design is so boring, he doesn't even get an official artwork, I just scribbled him in two seconds. A tiny blob of smoke even smaller than Logico, he sounds more or less exactly like Red Guy from Don't Hug Me I'm Scared and is... that. He doesn't even have eyes underneath his shades!! In this storyline, Midnight is Logico's boss from the beginning, and convinces him to take up real-life detective work.

Dame Obsidian is planned to unsurprisingly be a golem-type creature

DON'T READ THE EPISODES UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED THE FIRST BOOK!!!

But anyway, the summary/dialogue:

Logico drinks his coffee somehow, despite not having a mouth, so he kind of just pours it down his coat, like... eh???

LOGICO: MY!!! That is simply the PERFECT temperature.

He watches a screening of one of his detective films and squeals like a little girl. Midnight III, his boss, greets him with news.

MIDNIGHT: You need to stop doing it in the film. You need to do it for real.

Logico doesn’t want to.

LOGICO: I don’t give a shit about a murder!

Midnight has a plan.

MIDNIGHT: Fine. Just come to the high-end Hollywood party we’ve invited you to, with all the best directors, and Dame Obsidian.

LOGICO: KI-KA-KU-FE-JET WHAAAAT? I ADORE Obsidian’s work!! I MUST GO, I MUST GO, I MUST GO!!! [jumps around like an idiot]

MIDNIGHT: Good. See you there.

He goes to the party. Midnight is there and The Amazing Aureolin is doing tricks. Logico meets his idol Obsidian.

OBSIDIAN: YES, YES, VERY EXCITING I’M A BUSY WOMAN.

LOGICO: Oh… my dear heart!

Anyway, one of the directors drops dead in a bathtub - inappropriate!! Logico REALLY doesn’t want to have to do this but his inner workings are tingling and he has to know who does it. 

MIDNIGHT: Look at my pipe, it’s nice isn’t it. LOGICO: No one cares, Midnight, this is a crime scene! OH… YOU’RE ONE OF THE SUSPECTS!!  MIDNIGHT: Hurray.

Logico digs Obsidian out of the seats. Aureolin acts extra sus and fights audibly with her.

AUREOLIN: I trusted you! I trusted you and your fork, you dumb… fork!  OBSIDIAN: THIS WOMAN IS ACCUSING ME OF MURDERRR 

Logi gets a call from a voice blabbing about how ironic it was that Obsidian had a fork… and ate with it. 

LOGICO: Oh, hahaha, eating, with a for- WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU??

In the end, Logico places the blame with his answer. 

OBSIDIAN: OOH, SHOCKER, IT WAS THE LITTLE ONE. AUREOLIN: …Obsidian!... 

Auree fights for her claim.

AUREOLIN: I thought you said you were a detective! You have no proof of what you’re saying! LOGICO: My proof is plenty - the other two suspects did not do it!  AUREOLIN: Who do you think you are?? MIDNIGHT: She’s fighting it, she’s clearly guiltyyy

Guards grab Auree and drag her away.

AUREOLIN: No cell can hold me! You know what you did! I’ll have you a- MIDNIGHT: Shut uuuupppp LOGICO: I suppose… I kind of did give a LITTLE shit about a murder. MIDNIGHT: Good. That’s your new job. LOGICO: MY NEW JOB?!?!?

THE END-

Episodes are formulaic bc book format, so some will be shorter than others when nothing much happens, but hey, time for short king to solve a hundred murders!!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See ya next time murdlers!!

[sanvirtheobserver]

SMG4 Fanon: FOOD WARS, The Second Course

I officially bring to you my first fan-written episode, as well as the prologue of my new fanfic Taking Flight.

Hope you enjoy!

____________________________________________

We begin in the gaming room, where we see Tari on the couch playing Lies Of P, Luigi playing some pong by himself for some reason (and somehow still losing), Bob and Boopkins playing that weird ass version of Monopoly they like, and Mario on the computer ordering some Pizza.

Pizza Chef: What kind of toppings would you like?

Mario contemplates the meaning of the question for a moment, wandering deep within the wrinkles of his brain in search of an answer. But that didn't work so he just resorted to smashing the keyboard and bury the digital chef in toppings until we are left with an abomination of an order that will be ready shortly.

Mario: PIZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

And he's off to go get the goods, zipping by Meggy who has entered the room with her own box of goods in hand. Surprisingly enough, we also see Whimpu and Belle tagging along.

Belle: Whats got him all worked up?

Meggy: Eh, you know how Red is around food.

Boopkins: Oh! Ko'nichiwa Whimpu-sama, it's been a while.

Whimpu: It is good to see you too, my Furui Yūjin.

Belle: Oi rags, I got the vials. Bushmaster's blend.

Bob: Oh hell yeah! I'll get the vase!

Belle: Aces.

As Bob go gets the "vase" and the weebs start catching up, We see that Tari has just beaten the Puppet King. She collapses into her seat in releif as Clench starts cheering. And it only took them 35 tries.

Clench: THATS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE THE MVP! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE THE GOAT! THE GOAT!

Tari: *heh* Oh, hey Meggy.

Meggy: Hey Tari! Guess what I goooooooot.

She then noticed the box Meggy's hands, which was more than enough to get her on her feet.

Tari: *gasp* Is that.........?

Yep, within the box was none other than Gnomeson's gourmet candies. We look to the window seeing Gnomeson himself.

Gnomeson: TASTE THE RAINBOW MOTHER******!

Tari: Oh my gosh, you actually found him!?

Meggy: Yeah, we met up at the gym and he hooked me up.

Tari: Then what are we waiting for?

Meggy takes a seat and they both......um.....I'm struggling to find a cigarette analogy to describe this. Anyway, they both take a lollipop.

We then shift perspectives to SMG3 and SMG4 as they begin to head out.

SMG4: Oh C'mon, Three. This'll be fun! ...........Y'know, as long as you behave yourself.

SMG3: I will, I will! Geez, you're the closest thing to a mother I've ever had.

Just then, Mario triumphantly returns with his bounty of 10 whateverthef*** specials. Nice and piping hot.

Mario: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- Hm? Oh, hi SMG4! Hey, where are you going?

SMG4: We're heading over to Bloopersville to meet up with FM and X. Apparently they got new looks sometime after the whole Lawyer Kong thing.

SMG3: Yeah, I can't wait to see how dumb they look now. Just wait until they get a look of me.

SMG4: Yeeeaaaah. Anyways, we're gonna be gone for a bit. Don't you have TOO much fun, now! Heh heh..........also at least TRY not to set anything on fire, okay?

Mario: Pingas.

SMG4: Close enough. Let's go.

Now they're off on their ~~honeymoon~~ trip, leaving Mario with an...........idea.

That's right, IT'S HOUSE PARTY TIME!!!!

The main hall is a buzz with games and laughter. We see Bob and Rob cheering on Kaizo as he bobs for corn, Chris and Swag playing Pin The Tail On The Teletubby with Luigi, Boopkins teaching Jub Jub how to play Bakugan, Shroomy doing some target practice, and Whimpu showing off his cool rock collection to impress the ladies. Well, more like lady since Melony is the only one who's actually paying attention to the shiny things.

Whimpu: And this is Neodymium glass. It can actually change colors depending on the lighting of the surrounding environment.

Melony: Wooooow! That's so cool. What does that one do?

Whimpu: Oh, this is just Mahogany Obsidian.

Saiko: It's a wonder how she's still awake.

Belle: Honestly, I can't blame her. It's like a Spanish soap opera. You don't know what the hell they're saying, but then you start to piece together what's happening then your hooked.

Saiko: You really have gotten a lot softer, haven't ya.

Belle: Oi, Pot. You got something to say to the Kettle?

Saiko: *chuckles* Alright, alright. Forget I said anything.

We see Tari and Meggy headed to the party table with their Gnomish Candies..........where Meggy noticed Mario with his Pizzas coming over as well. Mario then takes notice of the girls and their Candy. It was when their gazes met that thing's started to get quiet. Everybody took notice of the two staring each other down at the party table.

Meggy: Hey there, Red. What ya got there?

Mario: Pizza. How about you?

Meggy: Oh, just some candy.

Mario: I see.

The energy has changed. Meggy turned her gaze to her fellow Sweet Tooths, and Mario turned his gaze to his fellow Greasy Bois. The line has been drawn. The board is set. All the pieces are taking their places. Their gazes meat once again. A fiery determination glowed within both.

Mario: So................what happens now?

A rhetorical question. You know what happens now. Brace yourselves people, for you are about to witness a...........

Mario & Meggy: FOOOOOOOOD FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!

And here we go! The main hall is a Frenzy as sweets, spice, and everything completely unhealthy roars through the air. Kaizo and Bob clash blades, their movements as swift as lightning as sugar and grease flake off like sparks with each strike. Whimpu lays down suppressing fire with a fan of Pretzels as Belle showers the room with a hail of Doritos. Shroomy is blasting condiments in all directions, Saiko's KFC hammer shakes the earth with every impact. Chris and Swag take artillery positions, raining down rock candy artillery as Melony retaliates against Luigi's Unicorn Lollipop Lance with her Pizza Sword, all while Boopkins, Jub Jub, and Tari act as field medics for the Sweet Tooths. We then pan over to Mario using his Pizza Shield to deflect the projectiles of Meggy's M&M16.

Meggy: It's no use, Mario! I have the high ground! Surrender now and we can end this quickly!

Mario: You wish it would be that easy.

Mario throws his hat, but Meggy dodges into the air. She aims down sights towards Mario. All she needs is one clean shot and-

BAM!!!! A surprise sideswipe sends her skidding. Luckily, Tari was able to catch her. Both were shocked to see none other than Pepperman! Mario catches his hat and plops it on with a smirk.

Mario: Thank's for the save, Peppino.

We pan over to see Peppino Spaghetti and his whole crew tipping the balance of the battle. It looks like Mario called in backup this time around, leaving the Sweet Tooths outnumbered by the Greasy Bois.

Meggy: Dammit.........FALL BACK TO THE CAFE!

And so, the Greasy Bois are victorious as the Sweet Tooths are pushed back to SMG3's Café. A Pizza Tower is placed on top of the Castle as proof of their dominion. An impressive win, but this was just the first battle in a war that has just begun.

Behind the Cafe's doors, the Sweet Tooths have regrouped and are now planning their counter attack. Boopkins and Jub Jub are preparing what appear to be makeshift candy explosives. Once the prep work is done, they gather around Meggy as Tari lays out a map of the Greasy Bois' Pizza Tower.

Meggy: We're never gonna end this war if we can't retake the Snack Table, and we can't take back the Snack Table without getting through that Tower.

She points to four different areas of the map.

Meggy: Mario and the Greasy Bois have the Table stashed at the top of the Tower. They may outnumber us, but we'll have a better chance if we can deal with each floor without alerting the floor above. Once we've reached the top and all the ICDs are placed, we deliver our last payload to the Table and bring the whole thing crashing down.

Tari: We lost our last battle because we couldn't take them all at once, so this time we'll need to take them on one floor at a time. It is crucial that we stay together in order to have the numbers advantage against each single floor, so no slacking behind and no rushing in alone.

Luigi: The ICDs are ready for transport Ma'am.

Meggy: Excellent. Any word from our scouts?

Chris: Front door is a no-go. Too heavily guarded. Swag had to stay behind to cover our escape. God be with him.

Bob: Our best chance is to enter through the window of SMG4's room. That will give us the clearest path up stairs.

Meggy: Alright then. Remember to stick together and stick to the shadows. Do not engage unless I give the order. You need to take someone out? Do it quietly. Everybody ready?

The whole team nods in agreement. Meggy turns to Tari, who gives a confident smile.

Tari: We can do this.

Meggy: Then what are we waiting for? Let's give em a good ol' fashioned Sweet Tooth Surprise!

And so the Sweet Tooths are off, preparing to make their move under the cover of night. Kaizo notices them mobilizing as he scouts from the roof of the Castle.

At the peak of the Tower, we see Saiko and Belle dragging Swag to the foot of Mario's Pizza Throne. By his side is Peppino, watching down upon the interloper with a judgemental gaze.

Saiko: Kaizo saw this one skulking around the Main Lobby.

Peppino: I see. What exactly were you doing here, hm?

Swag: Oh, nothing. I was just waiting on a date.

Peppino: Is that so. And who exactly is this date of yours?

Swag: Your mom LOLOLOLOLOLOL.

And just close that, he was sent to THE PIT! Which in reality was just a kiddypool full of Extra Hot Marinara Sauce that REALLY stings when you get it in your eyes. It was then that Kaizo had arrived to deliver the news.

Kaizo: The Sweet Tooths are making their move. It looks like they plan on taking the fight to us. We should act now.

Belle: HA! I say let the Gutbags try.

Whimpu: But if they get here, they could take our table and all will be lost!

Peppino: Indeed. Without the table, our Golden Crispy Kingdom will be lost forever! We must mobilize and-

Mario: No.

All eyes turn to Mario as he walks to the edge and turns his gaze to the Showgrounds below.

Mario: Let them come. Let them see our glory and try to stop us. These Grounds are just the beginning. We shall soon spread across the Mushroom Kingdom. Then the country. Then the world. All shall know the glory of the Greasy Bois! AAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Well that escalated quickly. Though, I've seen worse paths to world domination than a house party turned civil war.

Anywho, the Sweet Tooths enter through SMG4's Room Window, with Meggy and Bob quickly dispatching some Pig Cops.

Bob: I love myself some fresh ham. So good you could ea-

Meggy: Bob I swear to Greg I will actually murder you.

Once the room is secured, the rest enter and Tari is the first to enter the main hall, her Candycane Crossbow at the ready. Luigi and Boopkins are right behind her as they make their way up the staircase. At the door, Luigi uses his Astral projection to peer into the floor above. Apart from a few Cheeseslimes, the coast seems to be clear for the most part. He returns to his body after locating the entrance to the tower.

Luigi: Alright. We should be clear to proceed.

Clench: I don't like this. It sounds like we're walking into a-

?????: Going somewhere?

The trio quickly turns to see Saiko, Kaizo, and Melony on the edge of the balcony. Boopkins quickly aims his Dessert Eagle as Luigi readies his Unicorn Lollipop Lance, but Tari is frozen in fear with her back to the door desperately trying to get it open.

Saiko: Well well well..........

Saiko makes her way towards Tari as Kaizo and Melony face off against Boopkins and Luigi. Tari raises her crossbow as Saiko approaches.

Tari: Stay back! I'm warning you!

She fires a Candycane, but Saiko catches it with ease and crushes it in her hand. She then rips the Crossbow from Tari's hands and pins her against the door by the shoulder.

Clench: Hey, watch it! It takes hours to get a jacket looking this good.

Tari: I.......I'll never surrender to you!

Saiko: Come on, Tari. You can be so much more than this. Just come with us, and we can have a little talk.

Their talk is interrupted by a boot to Saiko's face, courtesy of Meggy. Saiko tries to retaliate with a swing of her hammer, but is intercepted by Bob and sent flying off the balcony with a well timed parry. Chris arrives, pulls Tari aside, and blows the doors wide open with his FR-GL.

Chris: Come on you apes! Do you wanna live forever!?

Bob: Keep going, guys! We'll hold them off!

Tari snaps out of her shock and makes her way through the door alongside Meggy, and Chris. They all make their way to the entrance of the Pizza Tower, where they encounter Shroomy with his dual condiment cannons.

Shroomy: Stop right there! No sugary treats are allowed beyond this point.

Chris: Don't worry. I got this.

Tari looks over to Chris preparing something. He swiftly slides a can of sugar frosted sardines right at Shroomy's feet.

Chris: Wait for it.

Shroomy: I will now require your immediate and unconditional surren-

Suddenly, a bear rips it's way through the woodworks, scooping up the sardines and thrashes Shroomy around before dragging him screaming below the floorboards. Looking back on it, I realize having so much unguarded food in a location surrounded by woodlands that are full of wild animals *probably* wasn't the best idea.

But enough semantics. It's time for our PIZZA TOWER ANY PERCENT SPEEDRUN. Our trio blitzes through each floor with breakneck pace Meggy's aim is swift and true. Chris' explosive ordinance blankets the battlefield, and Tari.......well, she's too busy trying to keep up while also setting up each ICD within the tower. Their progress is interrupted with the arrival of Peppino along with Pepperman, Vigilante, and The Noise. The battle is intense, as each side throws everything they have at one another.

Vigilante: Ya got moxie, kid. But ya'll need more than that.

Meggy simply smirks as she notices Pepperman coming in hot from behind trying to get in another sideswipe. But as Vigilante unloads a hail of bullets, Meggy expertly dodges and Pepperman ends up passing right below her. He gets riddled with bullets as he crashes into Vigilante, taking them both out.

Meggy: That enough *Moxie* for ya?

Pepperman/Vigilante: My scrotums.

We then cut to Chris facing off against the Noise, who isn't really fighting him so much as trying to bore him to death with an "intimidating" speech.

Noise: I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire PT armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my-

Chris just pulls out an RPG and blows his ass to high heaven. That just leaves us with Tari setting up another ICD before being confronted by Peppino, who uses his signature beyblade attack. Tari panicks as she frantically tries to avoid getting ripped up, but is driven into a corner.

Peppino: Give up, blue girl. Your gaming skills are no match for the Spaghetti Family Swag.

It is then that Tari notices a crate next to her labeled "Materiali Pericolosi". Seeing no other option, she quickly rummages through the crate as Peppino goes in for another attack. But right in the nick of time, Tari manages to force feed him a freshly baked pizza. With Pineapple. The crime against Italy is too much for Peppino to handle as he collapses onto the ground screaming and defeated. Tari very awkwardly steps around the suffering Italian man and regroups with the others as the trio makes their way to the final battle. They make their way to Mario's Throne Room, where Bell is ready with her Takigun and Whimpu is using Rob as a Spear as they guard the Snack Table.

Belle: C'mon ya Muckers! Ya feeling lucky?!

Whimpu: Surrender now if you value your lives.

Rob: Please put me down I am very tired.

Meggy: Let us handle the goons. You just focus on delivering that payload.

Tari nervously clutches the last ICD as Meggy and Chris lock and load.

Chris: This is for Swag, you Greasy Bitches!

Chris kicks off the fight with a barrage from his FRGL, while Belle and Meggy exchange hails of gunfire. Tari makes a break straight for the Snack Table. Whimpu is in hot pursuit, rearing Rob for a surprise attack but is then intercepted by Chris's boot.

Chris: Keep going! I'll cover you!

Whimpu proceeds to swing Rob around like a hammer at Chris, much to Rob's motion sick dismay. Belle is still preoccupied with Meggy as Tari see the table. But right as she is about to set the device...........

Mario: Hey stinky!

Tari looks up and is shocked to see Mario standing on top of the massive floating Pizza with a sinister face.

Mario: Your pathetic resistance ends now, Sweet Tooths! Me and Pizzaface here are gonna show you what's for! With our combined pow-

But just then, Pizzaface flips around and flings Mario straight into the floor.

Mario: HEY, WHAT THE F***! We're supposed to be working together!

Pizzaface: YOU THINK I FORGOT OUR LAST MEETING, MARIO? THE ONE WHERE YOU ATE ME?

Mario: Oh.............I sense I've made a mistake of some kind.

Pizzaface then goes on a rampage, crashing into everything in sight. Belle is unfortunately caught in one of Pizzaface's attacks, knocking her unconscious. Whimpu drops rob and heroically catches her in his arms before running away to safety. Chris and Meggy open fire on him, but are then sent flying with a whip from his green pepper mustache. Meggy is flung towards the balcony, hanging from the edge, whereas Chris is flung into the PIT where Swag is.......chilling, for some reason.

Chris: OH GOD MY EYES AAAAAAAAHH!!!!

Swag: Oh hey Chris. I just made some Bloody Maries.

Tari is petrified in fear as Pizzaface stares her down with a sadistic grin. She crumples to the ground, clutching her head as she braces for the end. But just as all seems lost........

Clench: Hey, Tari........

Tari turns her attention to her robot arm.

Clench: We have a mission to complete. Remember?

Tari: I......I don't know what to do. Everyone's down and everything is falling apart. Clench.........

Tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Clench: Listen to me. I know you're scared, but that hasn't stopped you before, has it? Remember that time Waluigi turned everyone into zombies and tried to take over the world, and you saved everybody by beating him at a fighting game?Remember when Meggy was abducted by that lizard weeb guy, and you joined the assault on Anime Island to save her? Remember when that Zero guy tried to recycle the universe and you joined the fight to beat him? And surely you remember the time you were stuck in some kind of bootleg Westworld and created your own pocket dimension to save everybody? Those were all scary too, weren't they?

Tari contemplates Clench's words. Those moments WERE scary.......yet that didn't stop her from helping her friends when it mattered the most.

Clench: You don't need to be fearless to be brave, Tari. You just gotta do what needs doing.

It was in that moment Tari felt something. She got back up to her feet and gazed defiantly straight into Pizzaface's Pepperonis. Her fear didn't disappear......it just didn't matter anymore. Clench was right. You don't have to be fearless to be brave.

Just then, Tari's eyes lit up with a vivid azure hue as a surge of energy coarsed threw her. Meggy managed to pull herself up just in time to see Tari levitating in the air. From her back emerged a pair of translucent blue wings crackling with energy. Tari then flew into the sky, breaching the clouds as the first sight of dawn broke. She then rocketed back down at Mach speed, her robotic arm crackling with power as it made contact with Pizzaface's cheese. The two crashed through the tower's floors, before breaking through the Castle's roof. Both Greasy Bois and Sweet Tooths present ceased their fighting as a massive crash shook the foundations of the Main Hall. When the dust had settled, they saw a crater in the main hall riddled in Pizzaface's mechanical remains. At the center of the crater was severely mangled Pizzahead and an unconscious Tari.

We then cut to later in the morning. SMG3 and SMG4 return to see the Castle abuzz with activity. The war was over, the Pizza Tower was destroyed, The Sweet Tooths and Greasy Bois have reached a truce, and the festivities had resumed. We see Kaizo bobbing for corn as Bob, Rob, and the Noise cheer him on. We see Boopkins, Jub Jub, and Melony sitting down as the Vigilante tells them the story of how the military once bombed his buddy Keith. Whimpu is once again showing off his rock collection to Belle, who seems to be actually paying attention this time. Chris and Swag are laying back and enjoying some Bloody Maries as Shroomy arm wrestles Pepperman. At the foyer we see Peppino and Mario spinning pizzas and playing tunes on the turntables. The SMGs make their way to the Gaming Room where they see Saiko and Meggy watching over Tari as she lays down on the couch.

SMG4: Looks like we missed quite the party, huh?

SMG3: I'll say, judging by the hole in the ceiling. And the Crater in the main hall. And the ambulance outside. And the tower pieces every- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?

Meggy: It's a long story. How you holding up, soldier?

Tari: Just fine, captain. A little dizzy, though.

Saiko: I have to admit. You did quite a number on poor Pizzahead. I didn't think you had it in you to even fight someone, let alone.........THAT.

Tari looks down at her robot arm.

Tari: Yeah. Neither did I.

SMG4: Well, the Castle is still in one piece for the most part, so I guess it's fine. It's definitely gonna delay the second floor, though.

Saiko: Hey, how was your trip to Bloopersville?

SMG3: ABSOLUTELY EMBARRASSING! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT FM GOT ABS AND I DIDN'T! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT!?

SMG3 continues to be a deva as the camera zooms out from the Castle and into the woodlands, where we see.......something........moving in the trees as the screen fades to black and the credits role.

[antisolararc]

an interesting critter :) it's hard to tell bc of where I put the projection (oops) but his phone is a horseshoe crabbbbb

Bio and stuff under the cut

PERSONALITY AND BACKGROUND

Like most children with obsidian scales, Audrist Fortunatia was surrendered to a guild for spirit immersion, lest he eventually turn to stone. Odd accidentally blew himself up (whoops!) at the tender age of twelve. In the ensuring distortion, a single spirit escaped from the far reaches of the Astral Realm. The spirit took shelter in his body and reinvigorated him as its host. Their symbiotic relationship eliminated the risk of petrification, but it created a whole new predicament – the spirit had altered his biology to accommodate it, but not without some inconvenient new features.

In the aftermath, the illustrious Megalith Corporation offered him a deal – they would provide him with medical treatment, education, and living quarters, which he would pay off by working for them in the future. With little other option, he accepted, becoming a sorcerer’s apprentice at one of the most powerful organization in the world. He was able to gain favor with a higher-up in the company who was particularly interested in his condition, allowing him near endless resources at his disposal. However, Audrist was alienated from his peers and practically encouraged to fester in obsession. His tenure there ended with a bang when he accidentally killed his aforementioned sponsor. Finally boiling over in the aftermath, his attempt to betray the company ended with him getting detained by the Council for Magic Regulation instead. He escaped while being transferred to another base fled to Meru (but not without crashing the vehicle he stole). Although he was offered a comfortable spot at the peak of the Infinite Mountain Magician's Circle, he turned it down to work alone on the base of the island... Well, he'd intended to work alone, at least.

Those who know him by reputation alone are often surprised by his slight, sickly appearance. Don’t mention it, though, because he despises being pitied. Erratic and short-tempered, Odd is often ensnared in traps of his own design, but he’s always sharp enough to get himself back out. Somehow. He cares little for prestige (or infamy, as it may be) and prefers to spend his time crafting magical baubles in a small, dark room. Odd knows he’s literally supernaturally skilled at his craft, but he has no delusions of grandeur. If anything, he’s painfully aware of his weaknesses. It’s humiliatingly easy for people to get the better of him once he opens his mouth – why he usually communicates through actions instead. Sincere to a fault, his candor comes across as ill-mannered. Though he bristles at the lightest touch, he is very loyal and violently protective over anyone who does gain his trust.

Audrist’s brain fires on all cylinders nonstop, always occupied but rarely staying in one place for long. Thoughts that continue to nag at him only get him all the more worked up. While he thirsts for rebellion and overflows with ambition, he struggles to conceptualize a future that he actually wants for himself. Despite his endless desire to fight back against the powers that be, Odd assumes that his impact is ultimately inconsequential for the world at large. He furious (ashamed) that he's spent his entire life as a tool for others to use, but he hasn't quite figured out how to be anything else yet.

ABILITIES

The spirit lives in a flat plane against his ribcage, where the faint glow is visible through his skin. It can accelerate his healing and remove harmful substances from his body, but, in turn, it produces ectoplasm that he coughs up. Unfortunately for him, the creature has broad definition of "harmful substances." It is a simple, malleable spirit, though, and he's basically programmed it to respond to certain signals. Aside from its more conventional uses, the mask he often wears emits a soothing mist that dissolves the ectoplasm (his "pipe" serves the same purpose). The spirit, an astropod, normally exists at the edge of reality, where it feeds off of the remaining light and hides from larger spirits inside of flat shadow planes. Audrist, too, can use it to very literally slip into shadows.

His gun isn't really a weapon per se. The chamber can hold six glass pieces, each of which contain an item in storage. Shooting something with the laser from it swaps the item in the chamber with whatever it hits. It only works on inanimate objects, no living things! The items are locked in stasis whilst inside the glass.

[shroudandsands]

Prompt #17: Sally

He looked behind him for a moment. That stretch of woods that turned to sands just out of view. A series of quick-built cabins of wood and whatever remnants might still be left behind by the last. He could see every ilm of memory draped across the place like a patchwork spiderweb; as if the mites had already moved in by the time he’d taken a few steps beyond the borderline. Something, he knew, was supposed to be calling him backwards. To unsteady his already few steps. To make him look and question and wonder as the mornlight sun began to creep through the treeline and ask him the simplest thing- “Where to?”

He shouldered a bag as he stepped out from the old tent into the noonlight. He shielded his eyes against the glare that managed to pierce through the shroud and land directly on his face- an insult from the gods if he’d ever felt one. Tents, shelters, and lean-tos filled his blinkered vision as he meandered his way around various familiar faces. Friends, maybe not, but familiar nonetheless. The patchwork of memories settling across the camp and its fire like a hastily made quilt. Something too fragile to really use. To really keep. To hold that close and keep warm. Something in him should’ve spoken hesitation as today’s guard gave him a smile that whispered of a happier time shared. Should’ve made him stop and count his steps out of the border wall. Should’ve blocked out the sun and refused to listen to that question. He shouldn’t have.

He took a long drag off the thin pipe before setting it aside. The sea breeze, salt-sweet and filling the cuts on his skin, carried away the smoke like it had burned out a thousand years of cobwebs in an indecisive mind. A half-read letter lay on the desk on the other side of the room and he could hear it shivering like a forgotten lover. His clothes lay strewn across the floor, fluttering in time with the letter. They were pushed aside in time with his thoughts, his decision, his order. His gentle hands moved to lift an old box, an old bag, an old friend. The evelight sun glinted like a lament off a polished piece of steel, off a piece of obsidian, off a blackened heart that lay separate from his own. He stared at all of it blankly like the shine of the sea. Some small voice should’ve been asking him a question. Something that shivered in the wind. Something that would’ve looked him in both his eyes and shown him what he was meant to see. He brushed away the webs.

He woke up a dead man when he’d finally crossed his way out of the wood. He went to sleep a dead man when he managed to make his way on board a ship. Moonrise into a damaged eye and salty air into deep wounds were enough to convince him that the rocking of the boat wasn’t yet the embrace of a grave. Enough to convince him to wake up, just for a moment, and take in a breath. Nothing but the sea ahead. Nothing but his tracks behind. Blood covered tracks, ill kept life, worn out eyes that could barely see a single malm ahead. All he could make out was the water. All he could make out was the moon. He rested his eyes on the railing as it rolled beneath him.

The explosion nearly killed him on the spot- between his bleeding ears, the fire across his back, the chunks of stone and metal blown past them both and nearly skinning him alive. But she was safe. He’d survive. And there was only one way to go. She was in his grip, in his arms, and out the hole in the wall into open air. Salt-sweet. Cobwebbed. But falling free through it and down, down, down into the cold and welcoming sea below. As welcoming as salt water could be to an addled man who was now more wound than mind. To take the nearest boat, she dragged him on, and burning away more of it all as he rowed it into the dark of the night and away from yet another city covered thin in moth-eaten memories. He could barely see them.

He looked behind them for a moment. That stretch of woods that turned to a river just out of view. A once-lived-in cabin built of wood and whatever remnants left by the last they’d used to patch it up. It hadn’t been long. He wasn’t there, he was sure, for most of it. But he could see strands looped between the door and the path away. He could see patchwork quilts of her own draped across the spot on the overlook beyond. He could watch the web stretch out towards the spot he’d marked as a grave, silver threads in the moonlight. He watched the threads burn.

Dugald slowly woke to a gentle hand running through his hair, running through its parting, running along the braids it so diligently always made for him. There were distant sounds of animals, of people, of some large machine clanking along a path now familiar. His second heart beat against his chest in that slow, ugly rhythm of memory like a stone weighed down. That gentle hand whispered to him, quiet quiet, and placed a palm over his eyes. Slowly pressed them closed once more. He could feel the sunset evelight on his skin. He could hear it for the first time in so long. A simple question. He fell asleep on her lap. She shielded his eyes.

[alwaysdevilday]

So I found an interesting worldgen… (Icemourn Pt. 1)

Last night I got the itch to play some Dwarf Fortress (the Steam version because I love me some pretty graphics and menus) so I loaded it up and generated a world.

Much to my surprise, one of the options for a starting civilization (a nation of origin from which my dwarves can be from) was this:

What you're looking at is a civilization of one (1). The king of this entire nation is also its only member, and he spends all his time sitting in his castle alone at the edge of the known world surrounded by ice and frozen peaks. There ain't anybody else other than my seven starting dwarves.

I thought to myself "oh this is gonna suck, there's no way I can't do this", and decided to go for it. I was gonna raise this nation out of the dirt as if my life depended on it.

I chose a spot in the frigid coniferous forests off the landmass's southern coast. No close neighbors, just me and the bears and whoever decided to pass through.

For my preparations, I loaded up on the bare essentials until I ran out of points, gave my dwarves the standard spread of jack-of-all-trades skills and took a few animals for emergency food and protection. The water buffalo are hard to take down and although they eat a lot of grass in pasture, they yield lots of useful resources if I have to Do The Deed. War dogs would take up the task of saving my hide from any potentially dangerous wildlife.

I named the fortress "Icemourn" or Ushilleshal in the dwarven tongue. I thought it appropriate, given that the land remains frozen and blanketed with snow 9 months out of the year.

My embark location was rather auspicious, sporting a wide range of towering trees and plenty of fruit during the admittedly brief surface growing season. The presence of a small river and a natural (if shallow) cliffside did not go unappreciated.

My first task was to carve out a chunk of the hill into something more useful (and aesthetically pleasing). It was there that I would set up my home base, digging out soft and heavy earth to make room for rudimentary bedrooms and the first two workshop areas. The room to the north would be my first dining room, something I planned to convert to a tavern's main floor later.

Initial setup complete, I set about securing my dwarves' safety with some log walls around the entrance. A drawbridge would block all but the biggest and meanest of hostiles from entering in times of emergency. Thankfully, trees were so plentiful in this location that I almost certainly would never run out of usable wood (though that might spell trouble if elves decide to visit later).

That done, my next task was to start carving out the uppermost workshop and stockpile rooms to ensure that my dwarves could carry out essential tasks without being forced to venture into the harsh winter. Dirt walls are ugly and unpleasant, but they get the job done. Beautification would have to come later.

The bare essentials on their way, I had time to order my dwarves to dig deeper, down about 8 z-levels (units of height, estimated to be about 2 meters) until we struck rock. To my delight, the substance proved to be shiny black obsidian. An aesthetically pleasing material, and one I could make basic weaponry out of without having to go to the effort of setting up forges. And as a bonus, fire opal gemstones! Right at my fingertips!

By this time the year's thaw had come, right on schedule in the middle of the summer. Pretty! Warm! Hospitable!

This brought to mind the fact that sooner or later, I would need a water source, so I set my dwarves to tunnel out some of the loam towards the river, forming a subterranean channel that would pipe fresh water into a cavity beneath my entrance's "courtyard". A covered well would allow the dwarves access to drinkable water year round, without concern for it freezing easily.

As autumn approached, the first traders arrived from somewhere far away. I hastily set up a trade depot for them and dumped my sole bin of wooden crafts onto the offering table. By the time the deal was done, we had procured several barrels of alcohol (and the trader had procured a nearly 60% profit, absurdly) and had lightened our load a bit. Unfortunately, our three months of sunlight was over and the snow once again began to fall as the traders packed their things and hastily left.

Continued Later

[sweetchcolate]

I LOVE your posts about Sugar Apple Fairy Tale and just read your fanfic about Rafael visiting a pregnant Ann and loved it! I hope you write more fanfics on Sugar Apple Fairy Tale and can I request you write about Ann and Shall's wedding. IT WOULD FILL ME WISH SO MUCH JOY THAT YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE!

fandom: sugar apple fairy tale words: 5677 title: wedding prep shenanigans summary: A humorous glimpse into the weeks leading up to Anne and Shall’s wedding as their friends and guests show up one after the other.

also available on ao3!

A/N: Hiya, this ask is from late august/early september, so thank you for waiting all this time!

It's more on the funny/gen side since my last fic (spillover) was 100% pure fluff, but there was no way I could write about Anne and Shall's wedding without involving all the friends the two made over their adventures.

Thank you for waiting! I hope it was worth it!

As a heads-up, there are some spoilers for events in future LN volumes in Keith's section. It starts when he says "Ah, I was thinking out loud…" and ends when you read "It had been a worrisome whirlwind of drama and tragedy."

(And the changes of spelling between Cat and Kat are on purpose, depending on who talks to him. When it's Cat, it's because they're referencing the animal).

Despite the distance separating them, when Alph Hingley, Keith Powell, Hugh Mercury, Bridget Page, Elliot Collins, and the many other friends Anne and Shall made over the years received a notice for the wedding ceremony of a certain sugar master and an obsidian fairy, they all shared the same thought.

It’s about time.

Followed immediately by: wait, if I received an invitation, then who’s planning this?

--

Bridget, with her fiancé Orland and her ex-fiancé Elliot in tow, was the first one to arrive, of course. She greeted Anne with a warm hug, gave a solemn nod to Shall fen Shall and Mythril Lid Pod, and went straight to the crux of things.

“The wedding is only weeks away! Do you have everything planned?”

“Yes.

“Your dress?”

“Almost done. The seamstress wanted to see me one or two more times to make the final adjustments.”

“And Shall’s outfit?”

“All set!”

“What about the reception?”

“Right next to the church. The head priest and the mayor said they’d lend us tables and chairs so we could eat and party outside.”

“And how many people are you expecting? Do you have a guest list?”

Anne handed over the list, which Bridget briefly skimmed through. She nodded in satisfaction.

“Who’s in the charge of the catering? Oh, and what about the sugar confection? Did you order one? Who did you ask?”

“A-about that…”

“She was planning of making her own,” Shall said, his first intervention since Bridget started grilling Anne over the details. He hadn’t looked up once from whatever he was sewing, but it was obvious he’d kept up with the conversation. “She said she didn’t want to trouble anyone.”

“Shall!” Anne cried, betrayed.

Elliot frowned. He threw an arm around Anne’s shoulders, drawing her to him. He ruffled her hair.

“That won’t do, Anne. Do you know how many people would die to make your wedding sugar sculpture? Just think of it: Hingley, Powell, Mercury, Nadir, Valentine, King, Orland, Bridget—"

“Why did you cite me last, Elliot?”

“— and of course, saving the best for last: good old me. The silver sugar viscount and the best sugar masters of this generation at your beck and call. Soooo, who’s going to be the lucky sod?”

“Can’t I pick myself?”

“Ah ah,” Elliot tutted, wagging a finger. “No, no, no. Don’t you know it’s bad luck?”

“You guys should all make a sugar confection, and then we can choose a winner on the wedding day!” Mythril piped up.

“We? I wasn’t aware this was your wedding, Mythril Lid Pod,” Shall added.

“Ugh, you know what I meant!”

“Yes. You meant to stuff yourself full of silver sugar.”

“I’m going to gnaw on your wedding tunic.”

“No you won’t!” Bridget cut in. “Do you know how expensive those clothes are? Oh! I almost forgot! What about cosmetics? And your hair?”

Anne blanched, and that was an answer in and of itself.

“Anne, I can’t believe you! Come on, we’re going to Lewiston right now!”

“B-but the wedding isn’t for another mont—”

Shall, Mythril, Elliot, and Orland watched the blonde woman drag her friend. They were all quiet. Elliot made the prayer sign one would for the deceased.

Orland smacked him. To Shall, he said: “Aren’t you going to help Anne out? She’s your fiancée.”

“And she’s being dragged around by your fiancée,” Shall retorted. The implication was clear: if you’re not going to stop her, don’t expect me to.

“Hm.”

No one pointed out that the obsidian fairy, a one-man army of his own, could easily have prevented the women from leaving if he was so inclined. Keyword being ‘inclined”. No one could convince Shall (or Bridget for that matter) to do anything they didn’t want to unless you were called Anne Halford.

Mythril repeated the gesture Elliot made moments earlier.

--

“Yo.”

“Kat!”

Anne’s face positively lit up, shrieking when the older sugar master lifted her up in a bear hug. The gesture might be uncharacteristic coming from him, but hey, it wasn’t every day that his apprentice-figure was getting married. She deserved the rare show of affection.

“Hiya Anne,” Benjamin said once she was back on the ground. He was as cool and relaxed as ever. “Congratulations on the wedding~”

“Thank you, Benjamin! But it’s still two weeks away.”

“Oh good, we’re early~ The weather was just awful in Snowpoint, I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“It smells good in here, small stuff,” Kat said. “What’s cooking?”

“An apple pie! I wanted to make a big one for the wedding, so Bridget and I are trying to figure out the right proportions. Want to be our taste-tester?”

“I won’t say no to free food.”

He followed Anne, finding Bridget, Orland, and Elliot huddled around a stove. Or rather, it was more accurate to say Elliot was huddled around the stove. Orland was holding the hearth door open while Bridget put a knife to a delicious-smelling pie. The air was filled with the scent of clove and cinnamon.

“Oooo, Hingley. That’s a nostalgic face if I’ve seen one.”

“Why am I not surprised to find you here, you freeloader.” Kat rolled his eyes. “Langston, Page. Congrats on your engagement again.”

“Thank you,” they answered in unison. Bridget added: “I think the pie is ready. Once it cools, we can eat.”

“Apple pie?” someone shouted from outside. “Wait for me! Don’t you dare eat without the great Mythril Lid Pod!”

It wasn’t long before Mythril showed up, perched on Shall’s shoulders. The two (or rather, the latter) had gone to chop some wood, the supply depleting faster with the addition of Bridget, Orland, and Elliot.

It was also a good way to keep the insatiable Mythril out of the way, lest he try to eat the apple pie dough raw.

“Oh, hi Kat! I thought I recognized your wagon outside! See, Shall fen Shall? I told you it was his!”

“Thank you for your wisdom,” Shall answered, more sarcasm than actual gratitude.

“Rude as ever, huh, Shall,” Kat said, leaning against the counter, arms crossed.

“Done hibernating, mister Cat? Glad you could make it to the wedding.”

“Hey, play nice.”

“No, no, let them, Anne.” Elliot snickered. “It’s free entertainment!”

“At least I’m doing something. You’re just lazing around, Collins.”

“Hey, hey. I’ll have you know I’m here on official Page workshop business.”

“Oh, really? And what is that?”

“We’ve got a wedding sugar confection for a very important client.”

“And where is that sugar confection? I only saw a regular carriage outside, not a crafter’s wagon.”

“Oh, that’s easy. It’s still in my head!”

“You lazy ass—”

While Elliot and Kat bickered, Anne scooted over to Shall, helping him put the wood away.

“It sure has gotten more lively,” she whispered.

“Has it? I tuned them all out since day one.”

Anne shoved him slightly, but the grin on her face betrayed her amusement. “Don’t tell Mythril Lid Pod, or we won’t hear the end of it.”

“Ha. I don’t think we’ll ever have trouble hearing him.”

She held her hands out to take another log. Shall took the opportunity to bring her hand to his mouth, using his body to hide the gesture from their friends. It wasn’t like he had trouble with displays of affections, but Anne and he could do without the teasing.

Especially Collins’s.

“Only two more weeks,” he murmured, voice pitched low, just enough to reach Anne’s ears. She felt every twist of his lips, every syllable pressed in her skin. In the low light, Shall’s eyes gleamed a beautiful dark amethyst.

She blushed, feeling warm, and squeezed his hand back with a shy smile.

“Hey, lovebirds! Get over here before the shrimp eats your share of the pie,” Elliot interrupted with his oh-so-great timing. True to his words, Mythril’s cheeks were full, resembling a squirrel.

Shall and Anne exchanged a look, sharing similar thoughts. Those would be the longest two weeks of their lives.

--

“I wasn’t expecting everyone to be here already… I’m a bit embarrassed.”

“You’re right on time actually, Keith! Bridget came in early because she wanted to help with the wedding prep, and Elliot and Orland tagged along. And Kat left Snowpoint ahead of time because he didn’t want to be stuck if the roads got snowed in.”

“Still, if I had known, I would have pushed for mister Radcliffe to let me out much earlier.” Keith pointed to the back of his wagon with a hopeful smile. “I hope my sculpture will make it up to you. It’s one of the pieces I’m most proud of!”

“I’m looking forward to it! What did you make?”

“That’s a secret. I can’t have you spoiling your own wedding gift.”

Anne pouted. “Everybody’s so cagey! First, it’s Bridget kicking me out of the venue, then Elliot telling me I can’t go home because he and Orland are making my wedding candy on behalf of the Page workshop.”

“What about Shall? And mister Hingley?”

“They’re checking with the innkeeper if we have enough rooms for all the guests.”

So far, all five artisans and three fairies had piled up in Anne’s and Shall’s home, with Anne and Shall sharing the master bedroom, Bridget in the guest room, Elliot and Orland in the other, and Kat and Mythril sleeping downstairs in the living room. However, after the reception, Anne and Shall would want for intimacy on their wedding night, and so their friends needed somewhere else where to sleep.

“The two of them? Will they be alright?” Keith asked, referencing to Kat’s short temper and Shall’s ability to get a rise out just about anyone with pinpoint precision. The two men got along like… well… cat and dog.

“Mythril Lid Pod’s with them, but if I had known everyone would give me the boot, I would have gone with them,” Anne sighed.

“In that case, do you know what to do when something’s bothering you?”

“Run and leave it all behind, right?”

Keith blinked, but a pleased smile appeared on his face. “I’m surprised you remember that. It’s been so long ago.”

“Of course! I was under a lot of stress back then, you know? Your words were a big help, they really cheered me up.”

“Just my words?” he teased.

“You know what I mean!”

He laughed. “I’m glad I could help.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence, watching the flowers sway in the slight spring breeze. All the snow had already melted, and the land was slowly regaining its colors, waking up from a long deep sleep.

“To think you’re getting married…” Keith murmured under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Ah, I was thinking out loud…” He sighed. There was something wistful, but also peaceful about his smile. “Talking about the past got me feeling nostalgic. To think that back then, our biggest worry was whether we’d make silver sugar master.”

True. A lot happened in just a few short years: Anne and Shall’s abduction by his brother Rafael fen Rafael, Shall taking his responsibilities as a potential fairy king and bargaining with the human king to slowly give fairies back their autonomy, Rafael fen Rafael’s return, and Anne and Shall almost dying at his hands and paying the price of surviving such an ordeal with their memories (Anne of her painstakingly hard-earned sugar crafting skills, Shall of his meeting with Anne and all those she brought to his life)…

It had been a worrisome whirlwind of drama and tragedy, but their happy ending was finally within reach.

And not just Anne’s and Shall’s… everyone’s: Bridget and Orland were engaged and most likely the next to get married; Elliot had assumed the reigns of the workshop, taking the strain off Glen’s shoulders; the Page workshop was flourishing ever since the Holy Beginnings exhibit; Kat and Keith kept up their work as sugar masters, refining their skills and gaining in recognition.

Everyone was moving forward towards a bright future.

But a part of Anne missed the old days, a time where life was much simpler.

“This might sound silly, but I hope we all stay in touch. I… I don’t want us to drift apart,” she said, fighting to get the words out of her tightening throat. She was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of sadness and bittersweetness.

“Of course.” Keith patted her on the back, kind and comforting, and the gesture almost made Anne lose her composure. She sniffed the tears back. “We can meet up for the Royal Fair, for the Holy Beginnings, for Valentine’s day… Your birthday’s on the sixth month, right? So that will be our summer reunion.”

“If we only gathered for my birthday, that’d be unfair.”

“Alright, alright. Let’s come up with our own summer holiday, then. That way, no one’s jealous.”

Anne laughed, shaky. “As long as I don’t have to come up with the name.”

“You can design incredible sugar sculptures to wow royalty, but you’re stumped by names?”

“Hey! I’m a silver sugar master, not a name master!”

He laughed. Keith kept on patting her back until she felt better. She was truly lucky to have such an attentive and thoughtful person as a friend.

“Keith?”

“Hm?”

There was so much she wanted to thank him for, but she doubted she could ever convey the depths of her feelings, so Anne poured all her gratitude, her happiness, and her appreciation into two simple words: “Thank you.”

Keith wrapped his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. He whispered, barely a murmur on the wind, “Anytime.”

--

“Anne! Anne! Congratulations on the wedding!”

“Actually, it’s ‘congratulations on the engagement.’”

Noah ignored Valentine’s correction, clinging to Anne. “Can I see your dress?”

“Not today!” Anne laughed at the fairy’s pout. “Don’t worry, you’ll see it in two days.”

“But that’s too faaaaaaaar.”

“Noah.” It was Glen who spoke. The older man was on the edge of his seat, waiting for Anne and Noah to clear the way so he could get off the carriage. “If you’re that excited, why don’t you go check the church? That’s where the ceremony will be held.”

“Oh, in that case, could you tell Bridget, Orland, and Elliot that mister Glen is here?” Anne added.

“Will do!”

And just as quickly as he had latched onto Anne, Noah was off. Nadir and Valentine sputtered, giving Anne their regards before running after the fairy. Noah might be older than them both, but he was as innocent and carefree as a child.

“Mister Glen. You seem to be doing well.”

“I am. I feel much better these days.” Glen stood and Anne hovered nearby just in case, but the older man managed to make his way out of the carriage on his own. He regarded her warmly. “I believe you’ve grown. I don’t remember you being this tall.”

“I think you shrank, mister Glen,” King said. He waved at Anne. “Yo, thanks for the invitation. And congrats!”

“Thank you! I’m glad you could make it!”

“Of course. You’re one of us, even if you don’t work for the workshop officially anymore,” Glen said. “If you had told us earlier, we could have organized you a grand wedding. But what’s done is done. Are you all set?”

“Yes! Bridget was a big help. I thought I had everything handled, but there was so much more left than I expected!”

“The missy planned her own wedding months ahead. She knows her stuff.”

“Before I forget. Here.” Glen handed Anne a leather pouch, heavy and thick. There was a tinkling sound when he moved it, almost like that of coins. “For you.”

“Wait, why are you giving this to me? Are you not staying?”

“Don’t look so alarmed. I wouldn’t miss your wedding like I wouldn’t miss my daughter’s. This is a long overdue payment.”

“For what?”

“For your time as our head artisan.”

Anne blinked. She had assumed that role years ago, her goal to retrieve Shall’s wing, then to fulfill her promise to revive the Page workshop. It had never been about money.

“Mister Glen, I can’t—”

“Can’t accept it? It’s rude to refuse a gift, you know?”

“Just take it, or he’ll just ask Noah to hide it so you can’t return it to us,” King said.

Anne sighed. All her friends said she was stubborn and impossible to sway once her mind was set, but they were as equally headstrong when they wanted to be.

“Thank you, mister Glen. I appreciate it.”

“Treat yourself, Anne.” He patted her shoulder. “It’s good manners to make use of the gifts you’re given. It shows your appreciation more than saying thanks ever will.”

She was working on that, on relying on her friends, on accepting their goodwill and affection (whether through money, gifts, food or kind words) without falling back on old habits of doing everything on her own.

“Then I’ll buy myself some strawberry cakes. I’ve been craving those for a while.”

“That’s the spirit,” he laughed.

--

Anne flopped around like a fish out of water, sleep eluding her. Shall sat up from the bedding they’d laid on the ground, next to the bed — he would have been more than happy sleeping with Anne, but she’d claimed it improper before the ceremony. His guess was that she was still shy with anything beyond hugs and kisses, but also didn’t want to risk Mythril finding them twined together which… fair enough — and leaned in, cheek against his palm.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“I can see that. Too excited for tomorrow?”

“I… I kind of don’t want tomorrow to come.” Anne gasped and put her hands to her mouth, as if she realized how her words could be interpreted only after the fact. “Ah, no! I didn’t mean it like that! I…"

He let her talk. With her tendency to ramble, her true feelings would come spilling out sooner and later. And his patience was rewarded.

“I’m so happy, you know? The past few weeks were so fun, with everyone coming and staying over. I didn’t realize how long it’s been since we were all together. But once the wedding’s over, everyone will leave… we’ll all go back to living our own lives…” She sniffed, voice shaking. “I know it’s silly, but I miss everyone. I miss them even though they haven’t left.”

Shall was reminded of Hugh’s words, many years ago — words he knew true, but words he’d never forgiven the man for since they meant to separate him from Anne. “Humans get used to comfort so quickly, they forget how to go back to their old lives.”

They seemed to sum Anne’s feelings perfectly.

“The Page headquarters are a day of travel away from here, and Lewiston less than half a day. Cat also gave you his shop, but you know him. He’ll show up to check on you once in a while,” he told her, cupping her face. This caused Anne’s unshed tears to bead at the corners of her eyes, and he wiped them away with his thumb. “Those you love and who love you will always be close to you, no matter the distance. But if the feeling gets too unbearable and you want to see them again, then let’s hit the road together.”

Anne’s smile was wobbly, but it was a start. He opened his arms, and she gladly went for a hug, burying her face against his chest as her shoulders shook quietly. He patted her hair, and she relaxed in his embrace after a while. She smelled nice and she was soft to hold.

“Thank you. I feel much better.”

“You should go to sleep. You have a long day tomorrow.”

“Oh, and you don’t?”

“I don’t need as much sleep as you.”

“I know. It’s so unfair. Do you know how much more work I could get done otherwise?”

“You’d just throw yourself at silver sugar until you passed out from exhaustion. Which you have before.”

“What if it’s just an excuse so you’ll carry me to bed?”

Such underhanded schemes weren’t like Anne, but he humored her just the same. “Just ask me then. No need to go to such extremes.”

“Hey, you guys still awake? Is this a bad time?”

At Mythril’s voice, Anne scooted out of Shall’s laps, putting a respectable distance between them. She ignored the disgruntled expression on his face. “No, we were just talking. Did we wake you?”

“Nah, I wanted to check the moon. It’s overhead, which means it’s now officially your wedding day!” He sauntered over to them and held out two small boxes. “And I wanted to be the first one to give you your gifts!”

Shall and Anne shared a look before taking the gifts. Shall’s was a pendant in the shape a golden full moon, the metal so polished it reflected his face. He glanced over to Anne. She had received the same thing.

“They’re matching necklaces!” Mythril exclaimed, taking his own out. “When we’re apart and you get lonely, just look at it and remember we’re all under the same sky, watching the same moon.”

Huh. Did he listen in on them or was it just an incredible coincidence? Then again, it was possible Mythril had picked up Anne’s underlying fears over the past weeks — he could be surprisingly perceptive.

Anne, whose emotions were already running high, was once again on the verge of tears, but she looked touched, rather than sad.

“Oh, Mythril…”

“H-hey, are you crying? Why are you crying? Do you hate it that much? Don’t cry, Anne, I’ll get you something else! S-shall fen Shall, help! Do something!”

“They’re tears of happiness, dummy.”

“Huh? Don’t be stupid, how can you cry from being happy?”

Anne shook her head with a small laugh, scooping the tiny fairy and bringing him close to her chest. She cupped one hand around his body and gently laid her cheek on the top of his head in the best approximation of a hug she could manage considering their size difference.

“Thank you so much, Mythril Lid Pod. I love it,” she whispered, overflowing with gratefulness.

He clutched at her front, cheeks pink and eyes downcast in embarrassment. “...you’re welcome.”

Anne set him down, wiping her eyes, and stood. “I just keep crying lately. I’m going to freshen up. I’ll be right back.”

Shall nodded. Mythril sat down on Shall’s pillow, playing with his necklace. It was quiet, if not for the occasional sniff coming from the small fairy. Shall didn’t comment on it.

“Hey, Shall fen Shall?” Mythril said after a while.

“Hm?”

Another sniff, longer. “I think I get it. Happy tears.”

Shall snorted softly.

“Hey, Shall fen Shall?”

“What?”

“Can I sleep on your pillow tonight?”

Looked like Anne wasn’t the only one hit with a bout of nostalgia and dreading separation.

It had been a while since they all slept in the same room. It was a necessity at first, born from the fact Anne barely had enough money to afford even a single room in inns. Even after she’d won the thousand cress prize in Philax, she kept her frugal ways.

It was only after the second royal fair, once Anne made sugar master and established her reputation, earning herself a commendable wage, that they started to rent extra beds or, on rare occasions, extra rooms.

And then everything went down the drain when Rafael fen Rafael returned, upheaving their normalcy. Once things had settled down, their new normal was for Mythril to sleep on his own while Shall kept watch over Anne, sitting in a chair or lying in nearby bedding.

This would be the first (and probably the last) time in months they would share a room.

“Fine.”

“Please, please, please! I promise I won’t make a peep! I’ll even— what did you say?”

Shall laid down, covering himself with his blanket. “Go to sleep, Mythril Lid Pod. It’s late.”

When Anne came back, she found Shall and Mythril lying side by side. The smaller fairy was sprawled out like a star, his eyes closed. Not wanting to be left out, she slipped in with them. Shall scooted backwards to give her more space.

“Good night, you two,” Anne said.

“G’night Anne… Shall fen Shhhh…”

It wasn’t long before the two were asleep. Shall adjusted the covers over them and watched over the two people most precious to him.

--

“Don’t!”

“You can’t!”

“Someone, stop him!”

“Easy for you to say!”

“What’s all this ruckus about?” Bridget asked, pulling away from where she was putting the final touches on Anne’s make-up. She frowned at the muffled screaming. The door to the dressing room shook and rattled, as if someone was leaning against it.

“Bridget, you gotta help us!” Elliot shouted from behind. “Lock the door!”

“What’s going on, Elliot?”

“Move aside,” Shall said. His voice might be muffled, but his annoyance was clear.

“I told you man; it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony!”

“That’s ridiculous. I should be able to see my wife whenever I want.”

“You’re not married yet, you dumbass. Show some patience.” It was Kat.

“Actually, they are. They signed the paperwork months ago.”

Mythril gasped, as if realizing he had let slip something he shouldn’t have.

Too late. It was like someone had sucked all the sound out. You could hear people’s breathing with how quiet it was.

“What?” pretty much everyone shouted in unison. Bridget turned to Anne, gaping, whereas Noah tilted his head in confusion, not understanding the fuss.

Anne would have buried her face in her hands if she didn’t risk ruining her make-up. Of course this would get brought up right before the ceremony and in front of all of their friends. Gathering the poofy skirt of her wedding dress, she made her way out of the dressing room, intent to explain the situation.

Instantly, six pairs of hands blocked Shall’s line of sight. The fairy huffed.

“When Shall and I looked for someone who could officiate our marriage, most of the priests we asked refused to.” Many of them had squirmed at the idea of a human and a fairy marrying, the result of decades, if not centuries, of subconsciously ingrained bias. “I told Hugh about this, and he said that as silver sugar viscount, he was authorized to oversee our marriage. So we signed the paperwork with him and Mythril as our witnesses.”

The silent was thick and heavy, everyone processing the information. It was Elliot who broke down first, bursting with laughter.

“That’s— that’s—” He could barely speak with how hard he was laughing. “Oh man, and you guys call me a schemer.”

“It wasn’t like we were trying to hide it!” Anne retorted, cheeks puffing. “It was just a formality.”

“Only you would call being married on paper ‘a formality.’”

“Because it is!”

“Sorry to break it you, kiddo, but that paperwork is as binding as any vow. As far as the kingdom’s concerned, you’ve been husband and wife for months now,” Hugh added with a smirk. He looked all too pleased and amused at Anne’s embarrassment. “Though I suppose if you asked Shall, he’d say it’s been even longer.”

The fairy crossed his arms, but didn’t deny Hugh’s claims. Anne was glad for the heavy layers on her face because she was sure her blush would have been as bright as the sun. She certainly felt as warm.

“You look very pretty, Anne,” Keith said, changing the subject. It triggered a flood of compliments from the other guests, their kind words overlapping.

“Yeah, you look great!”

“Beautiful.”

“Hey, where’s your veil?”

“I got it!”

“You’re all doing this on purpose,” Shall grumbled. He could easily have plowed through the crowd to check on Anne or moved aside the hands blocking his vision, but he had grown tolerant of his friends’ shenanigans.

Anne was filled with a surge of appreciation for her fiancé. He had come so far compared to when they first met.

“If you’re all ready, how about we proceed with the ceremony?” Glen said.

“Go on ahead, everyone. There’s something I want to say to Shall.”

Her friends looked at Anne, then back at Shall, uncertain.

“Shall, are your eyes closed?”

“They are.”

“There you have it. I promise I’ll be quick.”

Satisfied, they all filed down the hallway, headed for the altar, leaving Anne alone with Shall.

Given the opportunity, she took in her fiancé’s (husband’s) appearance. He had always been a beautiful man, with fair smooth skin, glossy dark hair, high cheekbones, and a sharp jaw. His striking features made people’s heads turn.

Some might find his wedding outfit simple — a long dark tunic over breeches, with jewel-patterned embroidery lining his shoulders, his sleeves, and his lapels — but in Anne’s opinion, it only made him more handsome, if that was even possible.

“So you’re allowed to stare all you want, but I can’t look at you?”

“Just a little longer. Once the ceremony starts, you can look.”

Anne grabbed and squeezed his hands, a small compensation for all his patience. His hands slowly traveled up her arms, her shoulders, and curled around her jaw, as if trying to perceive her through touch since his eyes weren’t allowed. Anne felt goosebumps at the feel of Shall’s strong and slender fingers on her bare skin.

“You better not shy away,” he breathed.

“I-I won’t.” Anne felt tongue-tied by their proximity. She felt like she was getting sucked in, but she resisted the urge to move in for a kiss — she wasn’t sure she’d find the strength of will to pull away. “Sorry about earlier. I forgot to tell you about that little tradition.”

“It’s fine. I waited years, I can wait a few more minutes.”

She smiled, even if he couldn’t see it. “Then let’s not waste any more time. I’ll be going first.”

She turned around, but was stopped in her tracks as arms wrapped around her waist, firm and unyielding. There was a puff of hot air on the back of her neck, and Anne’s whole body tensed when she felt a pair of lips on her skin. She squeaked as they moved up to behind her ear. Her legs trembled and her heart was pounding in her temples.

“S-Shall…”

“Tradition says I can’t look, not that I can’t touch or taste.”

Anne’s mouth was dry. She was frozen in surprise and excitement, but just as quickly as he had embraced her, Shall let her go. There was a satisfied and smug look on his face, even with his eyes closed.

“See you soon, my future wife.”

She didn’t need to be told twice, and basically sprinted out of there before Shall got more handsy and frayed her nerves. She met with Glen right outside the doors leading to the altar. He had offered to give her away, as she didn’t have any blood family, and Anne couldn’t think of anyone better suited for the role than a father himself.

“All set?”

She took a deep breath. Her heart was doing flip-flops in her chest and her hands were faintly shaking as she linked arms with Glen. “All set.”

He smiled at her, calm and reassuring. All their friends were seated and chatting with one another, but the second she stepped in, they turned to look at her. Elliot, Nadir and King hooted, Kat, Keith, and Valentine waved, Orland nodded and Bridget smiled at her, and Mythril jumped up and down in joy.

Anne waved as she passed each row of guests. She deliberately avoided looking at Shall, waiting for her at the altar. She knew whatever expression he made would make her weak in the knees.

Glen led her down the aisle, and she swapped his arm for Shall’s. She kept looking at her feet. It would be embarrassing to stumble and fall at this point.

Finally, once they stood in front of Hugh, their officiant, she allowed herself a glance at her fiancé (and on paper husband), immediately regretting and glad for her earlier choice.

She had been right. Shall was looking at her like she was the sun and he a sunflower. His eyes were intense, half-lidded and heady, and his strong features showed a fierce warmth and passion. She felt both like running away and wanting to stay in place to bask in such a rare expression.

“Alright everyone, I’ll be officiating this ceremony. I won’t bore you with a long speech,” Hugh said. The attendees got quiet, expectant. “Anne Halford, will you take Shall fen Shall for a husband?”

“I do.”

“Shall fen Shall, will you take Anne Halford for a wife? Will you love her from now on for better or for worse? In sickness and in health? In silver sugar obsession and in creative drought? In—”

Everyone snickered and even Anne giggled quietly. It was obvious Hugh was doing this to aggravate Shall, who bore the unnecessarily prolonged vows with admirable patience. Anne could tell when he tuned Hugh out, because he rolled his eyes and decided to look at her instead. They shared a smile, expressions soft with love, as they waited for Hugh’s speech to end.

“I do.”

“Good. Any objections from the guests?”

“None! You know there’s none!” Mythril yelled. “Hurry it up!”

“Then by the powers conferred to me as silver sugar viscount, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss—”

Shall didn’t need to be told twice nor was he going to wait a second longer. In one swift move, he’d lifted Anne’s veil and leaned in to kiss his proper wife.

“—the bride. You know, it’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking.”

Cheers and shouts and clapping and confetti and flower petals burst all around them, swallowing Hugh’s friendly teasing. Not that Anne and Shall paid any mind to anything that wasn’t their spouse. They pulled back from their kiss, grinning, forehead and nose touching. Their happiness was obvious.

And just as all those weeks ago when they received the invitation, everyone shared the same thought.

It’s about time.

[drowninginblox]

Torched

Part 2

Part of him hoped that the last few days were a dream, that at any moment he'll wake up in that damn chair or even from his corner in the basement of the shit shack. But the bread in his pocket served as a guarantee that's not gonna happen anytime soon. Combined with the lakes of sweat keeping him awake in this living nightmare, Fit can only pace in frustration. “If you want, I can give you some time to ponder this. Although I am an immortal being, the concept of thinking on such large decisions is one I'm not lost on.” Fit sighed. Will you be gone? He didn’t mean to sound as harsh or vulnerable as he did, but it felt wrong for him to be guarded in his own mind. It was probably the emotional exhaustion getting to him. “I won’t be far warrior. Just call for me and I will come.” A moment passes before a shiver runs up Fit’s spine. A body-wide shake follows. And then silence.

So soft. The infamous FitMC has gone so, so soft. A lump in his throat closes his throat. He takes a breath and lets his shoulders roll. The muted pop and click of bones act as a good grounder in this otherwise devastating scene. Remember yourself. What did you do back then? His eyes close. For a moment, the humidity mutes. The cold air subsides. And rather than the stale air he’s been breathing in for a year, the smell of gunpowder and the taste of flesh linger on his tongue while a younger, lost soul, takes a daring step into the unknown.

Explosions, first vibrant in sound as they were in action, slowly mute as the souls of Fit's feet felt the ware of running for hours on end. From what, he didn't know. Anything though. There was always a reason to keep moving in the wastes, whether it be from the monsters that came out in the night or the people that just so happened to spot you out of your periphery. It's always something. Rest was a pipe dream. Always brief when there was some time for it, but it was always greeted with another reason to get off your ass. The howls in the night, the crunch of the ground sounding too close for comfort, the sizzle of TNT, or an offshoot explosion on the horizon. Sometimes you wouldn't know what's outside the cave until the preditor makes itself known. If you're lucky, you could see the obsidian being placed before the end crystal. You barely have enough time to block yourself up or dig away, but a chance is always worth fighting for. That's something he can't live without; chances.

Fit' likes to think he's grown since his time away but there's only so much calculation you can do before something makes itself known. It's ugly. Messy too if shit really hits the fan. Maybe that's why Fit was a janitor. When shit gets messy, someone has to note and take care of the problem. Speaking of- Maybe it was a few minutes? Could’ve been a few hours. Either way, his arm weighed heavier on his shoulder. A scowl was the only thing to meet him as he blinked away the aches. "What would Pac do?"

The words tumbled onto the cavern, making Fit's stomach twist at the cruel reminder. He could've sworn the weight in his chest didn't weigh this heavy. Last time it felt like a baseball. Now it's gotta be a bomb. I never asked for this, He screws his eyes shut. I know I agreed to this. I know I can't back out even if I wanted to, but- He couldn't help but choke out a chuckle. "Am I selfish by patching myself up with the people I care about?" He blinks a few times at the haziness only to feel the wetness of tears. "Fuck, really?" A groan rises from his stomach, intermixed with venom and the heat of untapped rage. An animal clawing at its cage to be released, the keeper, tired of the constant severance relinquished the beast of its cage, gilded with the pretenses of civility for station's sake. For everyone's sake. The noise progresses into a scream. One that even Fit could hear. Guttural and raw and for every sake of the word, it wasn't just the beast that was freed from captivity, it was the whole goddamn zoo.

The emotions can't take him away again. Not further than this. The stampede can kick his damn ass he will remain. Securing himself in a ball, that was all he can do against the impending release. Months of not knowing whether or not his friends and family were truly safe, years of stress built up and hardened only to be broken by people who thought they knew better than him how to live his life, days where the terrors crawled up his back to the point of mind-numbing exhaustion. All that was left of him ran away or dried up after the flood.

This was a long time coming. "For such a prolific warrior amongst your kind, you are very weak." A scratch of a cough was all Fit could do as a rebuttal. Does it look like I give a fuck right now? A warm laugh resembling the cackle of a campfire. For some reason, fit could feel the warmth of it. If the damp and cold of this cave was December in Alaska, then this feeling is the inside of a cabin. Right beside the fireplace. He almost smiles. Are you here to taunt me? "Oh no. I'm just here to make sure you're okay, warrior." Fit forces himself to stand. He wobbles slightly on the way up but he manages to steady himself with a deep breath. I don't think I deserve to be called that. It shouldn't have surprised him that the sun was gone. The night should follow the day after all. What was a surprise though was the lack of a moon to light up the sky. Things were illuminated as if there was one. And yet, there is none. Of course. "Oh?" Nonetheless, he eyes up the wall. "So tell me then, FitMC, the so-called legend of 2B2T, what are you?" Fit sighs. The scarf's coming off. "What I am is tired la-" he coughs out, swishing some saliva around to get the horseness out of his throat. "Emperess. My bad, It's Emperess right?" All the while wrapping the scarf around his only human hand. "This is gonna do a number..."

A hum mimicking shock meets him. "I'm impressed, here I thought respect was foreign to you. It appears the brute can show some." "Hey now," he rubs his hands together. the grime from the cave will have to do. "I may be from hell, but that doesn't mean we don't know the concept of authority." Snuffing it out united us them. He hops in place for a minute. It's been more than a minute since he's done this. "Then you should learn this lesson quickly, I am more than above your station FitMC. I am millennia worth of energy and intellect and wisdom, collected all into a flame that grows and develops as time progresses. You are but a spark compared to me." He smirks. "Degradation isn't my thing you're majesty. Nice try though,"

Fit leaps, holding onto a sturdy ledge before securing his feet. "Know your place, little warrior." Ma'am, yes Ma'am! He mimics with a little salute. This is gonna be a long climb.

[lightofunova]

Taking the pokeball in her hands, Reshi admired the red sheen upon the lid. It certainly was gorgeous, for something made to contain pokemon. Staring at it with curiosity,she wondered how it was that the human made it work in the first place.

Chip. Crrack!

A sound caught her ears, a wiggle in her arms making her look down at the egg she held. Upon the obsidian surface lay a large crack, dividing the shell. It took a moment for the realization to dawn on the legends.

“Oh my Arceus! Help me get this open!” Reshi yelped, Zapdos grabbing the egg from her arms as Tornadus raced over to help.

“How did that man use these contraptions?”

“I don’t know! I’ve been asleep for 3000 years!! You would know more than I!”

A hasty laugh left Tor’s lips. “That is true but I haven’t used one My Lady!”

Zapdos’s voice piped up over the rancor. “I think it’s almost out!! Hurry!!” Reshi racked her brain for answers, before turning back to the events over the past few days.

Firstly was a letter that had arrived from a friend of hers. If she recalled, he had wrote something relating to the pokeball he had sent her, in his own frigid way.

‘As for the Rotom, it's in the red and white ball. Press the button twice. It'll get bigger and smaller. When it's bigger, press it again and the Rotom will come out and explain everything.’

Then was the man they had just enountered. It seemed like he had simply pressed down on the ball and it popped open.

“Let me see that!” She rushed over, grabbing the ball from Tornadus’s hands. “My Lady what do you-?”

Pressing the button, she watched as the light turned red with awe. Pressing down once more, she jumped as a beam of red light emitted from the ball.

Transmitting before the trio, the red beam bent and warped until it formed the shape of a pokemon. As the light dispersed, there stood the Gothitelle they had been seeking out.

“Gothi?” She cried, looking about the new surroundings. Zapdos quickly rushed over to the pokemon, practically shoving the egg into the mother’s arms.

“Here ya go miss!! Kid’s all yours!” In an instant, the shell finally fell apart. The gothitelle’s eyes widened at the baby in its arms, nuzzling its head with her own. As the newborn opened its eyes, a deep purple hue came instead of the normal blue like its mother. It didn’t matter however, the gothitelle held the child close to her, a happy cry emitting from her.

“Well look at that! A shiny!” Tornadus stated breathlessly. “It’s been decades since I’ve seen one. How wonderful.”

“Indeed…” Reshi trailed off, a memory bubbling to the surface of her mind. Taking a breath, she pushed it down. What was important now was to ensure the mother would be safe with her newborn.

Dropping the red and white capsule to the floor, she gave it a harsh stomp with her heel, digging into the ball until it was crushed for good.

“No one will ever hurt you again. I promise that.” She stated firmly, giving the pokemon a reasurring nod. The gothitelle rushed over, giving the goddess a hug. “Oh! You-It’s nothing I promise!” She laughed, caught off guard. “I’m glad to help!”

[mangyraccooon]

The Phoenix and the Wild

https://www.tumblr.com/xamaxenta/722931486576214016/just-a-thought-marco-had-known-for-a-long-time?source=share

a little taste of a wip Ive been working on since I told Xam bout it, yes I had to deactivate my account and then reactivate; don't ask it was such a headache

Long long ago, before the emptiness that consumed the world before the sun descended from the sky, before the people heard the phoenix war cry.

There were gods, gods of every shape colour and size. Gods with a hundred hands, gods who hid in smoky coils and gods who had no eyes.

And above it all shining bright the sun would preside, Nika the god of laughter, life and light. Beside Nika stood the Phoenix, his brother and advisor to any plight.

One day the Phoenix met The Wild, The Hunt, The godless god. A meeting perhaps not so strange but unexpected. They were the strangest being, constantly shifting. Wolf, Jaguar, falcon, yet their eyes always stayed the same. Glowing like the embers of a fire.

Terrible how the phoenix has always had such a weakness for flames.

the story goes like this, two gods fall in love and through love comes creation. (not that kind of creation). A new being born on earth, great obsidian wings, eyes like rubies, long white hair and a constant fire burning above their back. Their child (in a way). The Wild started spending more time on earth, teaching their and others creations how to survive. The story goes like this; The Phoenix tells the Wild

"I will love you for the rest of eternity."

I wish I could say this story has a happy ending.

The Wild is killed, humans are ever so fickle you see.

The Phoenix screams.

The Phoenix tears through every settlement It can find, ripping the ones who dare take Its love away. By the end the bottom of Its feathers and robes are soaked in blood. By the end Hope tracks It down and holds it down, the metal pipe pressed against Its throat. Nika watches as his brother cries and screams, the agony of eternity.

"The Phoenix, God of Eternity, Medicine and healing. I know anoint you a new title."

Red eyes meet blue and for a moment, there is an all encompassing dread. Then Nika looks away, "My Brother, My friend, The Phoenix, God of eternity, God of Death."

Hundreds of years pass, perhaps a thousands. Nika falls from the sky, susceptible to the most human emotion; love. The gods either give up or fade away, some plant themselves hoping to reawaken again. The Phoenix continues, It cannot fall nor can it die.

Perhaps in those centuries of loneliness, it came to forgive humans, perhaps not. Maybe it made a deal with someone a priestess who loved Nika. Maybe it became a memory, a ritual of sorts for one to pass down. A guardian.

Maybe it caught a man who in turn taught it love, maybe it stuck by the mans side until the day he died.

Maybe maybe maybe, there are so many maybes and so many routes that Fate would have it travel down. (never trust fate.)

Whatever the case, the route, the path. The Phoenix collides with a boy who is dying and maybe in a fit of madness, decides to heal him. There is a deal struck and the Phoenix lets it conscious fade into the background of the boys mind.

Whatever the route the end always stays the same.

the Phoenix presides on a ship now, watching through someones eyes. Until it sees the flame. The Fire, It knows that fire. It calls, whispering with a hundred voices, distorted like speaking through glass.

Anyone watching would be confused as the First commander Marco's eyes changed colour. The deep indigo, swirling into a burning cerulean. The Phoenix feels the roar of power as It finally reaches the flame, pulling the one It thought lost into a kiss.

Grey eyes are uncertain but sparking, flames lick around Its fingers as The Phoenix caresses a freckled cheek. "I found you, My Wild."

-well this was a lot of fun, shoutout to @xamaxenta im stealing this back <3 and @apphiarothowrites for writing crack cocaine and fuelling my addiction. (also the brother idea)