#please tell me what you think :)))))

[bibewilderedandbuck]

Buck goes out to get food or restock after a particularly rigorous ""work out"" session and it just happens to be at the same time as some idiot decides to rob the place.

Buck is kneeling down because hes looking for Tommy's favorite gatorade flavor. They have all the popular flavors at eye level but if you're looking for dark red, you have to stoop down. Homophobic, and during pride month.

He hears the commotion and of course his hero complex kicks in. But he doesn't wanna spook the guy cause he knows how he looks. Massive and buff and a firefighter and everyone at this place knows him too, he lives right down the road (or maybe the drug store is one the first level of his apartment). He goes to send a quick text to Tommy, when the guy with the gun demands all their phones. Buck gets out "911" and turns on his location. He stays low to the floor but makes himself known. Gets the gun trained on himself instead of anyone else because that's just who buck is.

The robber is getting desperate and every time bucks phone pings he gets more and more jumpy.

“Whose needy ass boyfriend wont stop blowing up their phone?”

Buck raises a shaky hand. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can get it out-

The store clerk high-fives him and tells him he’s proud of him. “It was only a matter of time, man. He went through all the women of LA and he just moved on to the men.”

A chorus of “Oooh come on!” “That’s biphobic” “ew gross” “not cool” ring out among the other hostages. Buck’s cheeks are burning. The mix of positive and negative reinforcement creating chaos in his head.

“You really should consider letting us go.” He says to the man with the gun. Buck takes a risk and stands to his full height and the other man’s eyes widen. “My boyfriend is bigger than I am. He's waiting for me and we weren’t done.” He holds up a box of condoms and the gatorade and someone hoots behind him.

It’s then that the sirens start. Someone shouts instructions through a bullhorn. Buck isn't listening, he's determined to get everyone out before himself. He calmly explains that out there is one of the most fiercely protective police sergeants he's ever met.

"And her first priority is not going to be you." Buck motions his raised hand to the other people in the store and says, "let them go and I can help you."

The voice amplified by the horn sounds more desperate by the second and when did the fucking fire department get here?

The armed man send everyone out, except buck, who he now holds in front of him with the barrel of the gun tucked snugly against his spine. Buck can feel it shiver against his skin.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"I- I know," Buck says. The guy cowers behind him and he curses his height because if anyone was a fantastic human shield its Evan Buckley.

There's a new voice coming through the bullhorn now and Buck groans. Its Tommy and he's telling Buck the whole teams here and he's going to be alright. He sounds desperate and scared and Buck just wants to wrap his arms around the man and tell him its going to be OK.

"The boyfriend?" the guy asks and Buck almost laughs. He lets out a shaky breath.

"Yeah, needy right?"

"Listen man, I made a mistake. I'm in a lot of trouble but I never wanted anything like this." Buck nods. "My baby is sick and I'm broke. I just needed some cash and some formula."

Buck groans. He's too nice for his own good.

"There's an exit in the back."

"What?"

"In the back room I've seen them take in deliveries that way." He can hear the guy shuffle and then stop.

"Should I hit you?"

"What?" Buck peaks over his shoulder, the guy is half way to the door at the back of the store and still he's completely shielded by Buck's body. Seriously he should have been a bodyguard or something.

"I mean...it'll look like you just let me go?"

"This isn't a movie? I- I'm literally being held hostage, dude."

"Right." He turns away from Buck and then stops again. Buck is holding his breath. "Thanks man. I know this is fucked up and you didn't have to help me. You're a good guy."

Then he's gone.

Buck's not sure how to react. He did it, he saved everyone and himself and oddly the whole thing feels like a dream. Unreal. He walks slowly to the door of the shop and exits with his hands still in the air. Eddie is the first to hug him, barreling right into him and smacking his back into the glass of the window. He's checking over Buck for injuries and squinting inside the store and he seems confused.

"Where'd he go?"

Buck shrugs. "Went to the back and never came out."

Athena is next, she too gives him a once over, lets him know she can take his statement tomorrow and motions to the rest of the crew. They give him one resounding bone crushing group hug. Buck's warm and smiley but he still feels not here.

Finally, Tommy ambles out from behind the police car. He's thrown on a hoodie and sweats and he's vibrating on the balls of his feet. Buck see's the same expression on his face that must be reflected on Buck's. He reaches out to Tommy and Tommy clutches at him. The hug starts off timid until Buck hears a few pops in his back and Tommy is taking a deep breath in at his temple.

The world falls back into place like they've hit the bottom of a drop of an amusement park ride. His feet feel solidly on the ground and his stomach finally drops. His knees nearly buckle. At some point Buck had known he wasn't in danger, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like he was never going to talk to his family again, he would never see Hen or Eddie or Bobby...or Tommy. There is so much he wants to say but his breath is shaky and his hands won't release Tommy's shoulders.

"Do you want to be alone?" Tommy asks. Because of course he asks. No Buck has never wanted to be alone less. He feels like if he lets go of the man in his arms he's going to float into the atmosphere and dissipate. Like he's only tethered here by Tommy's hands.

"No," Buck says. He takes a grounding breath in, his chest bumping Tommy's. "I- I want to go home."

[insightfulllama]

Dp X dc prompt!

In this prompt, liminals/ghosts need to consume fresh ectoplasm to stay healthy and not starve. In addition, the headcanons “only those exposed to ectoplasm can see ghosts as they really are”, and “how people see ghosts is based a lot on their personal perceptions of reality.” have been mushed together. Like, someone un-exposed to ectoplasm knows that SOMETHING is there and it’s scary, but they haven’t been exposed to enough ectoplasm to actually comprehend what it is, so their mind just fills in the empty space with whatever their scared of + what makes sense to them for the context.

So Gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm and that's enough to keep Jason from starving completely, but nowhere near enough to be healthy. The inherent ectoplasm he has is basically rotten cause Lazarus pit be like that, so although he is alive and well in human terms, from a ghostly perspective he is extremely emaciated and sickly. Jason has felt varying degrees of empty and BAD since he came back, but there’s not exactly a handbook for this sort of thing, so Jason just accepts feeling terrible and being quick to anger as his new reality.

Cue the bat family calling him up and asking him to check out some weird reports they've been getting. Apparently people have been seeing stuff- a shadowy floating baby, a rotting animal corpse walking around, a ball of energy floating through a wall, etc. Which would be strange enough, but since the sightings started popping up at the same time, Bat's is theorizing that all the sightings are being caused by one entity. And a lot of the reports are in Jason's stomping grounds, so they want him to take a look.

He obliges (not because he wants to help his family, it's JUST because it sounds interesting, ok?) and quickly finds the whatever it is. And he kind of wants to laugh because THIS is what everyone was freaking out about? The thing looks like a gumbrop. Granted it was the size of a cat and glowing a suspiciously Lazarus green, but STILL, what on earth was everyone so scared of?

Regardless, it was in his territory and needed to go. It moved surprisingly fast once it spotted him, and it was taking a lot for Jason not to lose sight of it. Oracle offers to send someone to help and even Jason is surprised at how angrily he says no. But maybe he shouldn't be- he'd seen it first, it was HIS to catch. He discarded his helmet after her next question- she was distracting and the little thing was now periodically turning around to chirp mischievously at him and he was going to GET it, darn it.

He tells himself that the frantic urge to catch the creature was just mission excitement. The wild, clawing NEED to have it was just enthusiasm. The aching pull in his stomach wasn't anything out of the ordinary, his mouth was watering because it had been dry, NO other reason.

He was fine. This was fine, nothing was wrong, he just REALLY needed this thing.

He loses sight of it for a second, but it's fine because he knows the direction it's going.

He turns the corner and pulls up sharply. The gumdrop thing has been caught, but not by him. There's a figure holding its limp form, staring at him with wide eyes, obviously in the middle of eating it.

Jason distantly thinks he should be confused or horrified, but all he can feel is devastation. It was supposed to be HIS- this was HIS territory, HIS place, he should be the one to get it. But he hadn't been fast enough and now he wasn't going to get ANYTHING-

Danny, meanwhile, feels like the biggest jerk in the world. He'd caught the fat blob ghost more out of habit than hunger, since it had practically run into him zipping around the corner. But this other liminal had been in the middle of hunting it and was now looking at him with abject betrayal.

Danny's feelings of guilt got worse as he crept a bit closer and realized that the other liminal was sick. They're ectoplasm felt tainted, contaminated in a way that spoke of long term illness. Danny's brain was going a mile a minute, connecting the pieces. This liminal felt fairly strong so he probably had his own territory, and since he was sick he probably couldn't go far to hunt. Which meant that in essence, Danny had waltzed into the house of a starving, bedridden liminal and eaten directly off his plate.

Yeah, Danny was officially the worst.

But he hasn't actually eaten it yet, so there's still time to fix it! Danny quickly offers to share, rambling to the not-quite-starving liminal that it's like the fattest blob ghost he's ever seen and he really doesn't mind sharing and he can have most of it if he wants, Danny's not that hungry and pretty please don't be upset?

Jason can hardly understand anything he's so ravenous at this point, but he does understand that he's being offered the food he thought he'd lost, so he chows down without any fuss, much to Danny's relief. He tries not to judge how messily the guy is eating cause who knows how long its been since he'd caught any fresh ectoplasm and its honestly no worse than Danny was the first time he ate a blobbie.

Except- the guys tainted ectoplasm seemed to be fading? Huh, maybe the illness wasn't as terminal as it seemed on the surface, if all that was needed to fix it was a decent meal.

Danny decides to leave, the liminal is obviously going to be fine and once they're head clears they're probably going to be embarrassed that Danny saw them in such a state and he doesn't want to deal with that kind of awkwardness. He carefully leaves, relieved that something that could have ended very badly had worked itself out.

Meanwhile, Barbara is trying to get Jason to respond to her without success. The last contact was almost half an hour ago when he'd snarled at her for asking if he needed someone to come help. She was pretty sure he'd ditched his comm after that, but his trackers were still active and she could see he'd come to a stop. He'd been very clear that he didn't want help, but they knew nothing about this entity and Barbara is hardly going to chance that he might be slowly bleeding out somewhere. She sends someone (or multiple someones) to go check on him.

They find Jason splattered head to toe in faintly iridescent gore, hunched over with glowing eyes and softly growling as he eats something unidentifiable.

[headphones-lifeform]

I wrote a poem for Amok Time's anniversary. May be somewhat embarrasing.

Happy birthday to Trek episode Amok Time;

To celebrate, I am now writing a rhyme.

For the plentiful fanfic that you have inspired,

The things, plain to see, which on that day conspired

On the red sands of Vulcan, a ritual fight

Or perhaps something else- do you see it? I might

Have imagined or was it subtext?

For you paved the path for the years to come next

From the very first zines to the AO3 fics

Made by fans who adapted your tropes and your tricks

Made with love and with passion for Star Trek, on par

To the passion felt by Kirk and Spock in pon farr...

I would be ashamed to show this to my mother, who usually sees all my poetry. That is how embarrasing this is.

[best-habsburg-monarch]

As an interest check:

Best Holy Roman Emperor:

Pros: Rerunning some of the contestants in this bracket, but also go back further and expand beyond the Habsburgs. Another chance for people to vote for Rudolph II's fruity...portrait.

Cons: Between us and @best-bourbon-monarch, we have probably already covered most of them.

Another German Dynasy:

Pros: We can include people who are also interesting in the same time period. The Saxons and the Bavarians have yet to appear, so it will open opportunities for more rp.

Cons: Admin 1 will have to do more reading and start a new blog, because they're primarily a Habsburg person.

Continue with a different tournament here:

Pros: This blog is already established and we could start immediately with something new after the final.

Cons: this is likely to be less interesting than the actual monarch bracket.

Napoleonic Sexyman Tournament:

Pros: This will be very fun and more than a little unhinged. I will get to ask you if Metternich is hot again. As someone specializing in the nineteenth century, this will be in admin 1's wheelhouse.

Cons: This will be unhinged

[thedreamingpiscesfangirl42]

The Zestmilla fic is done! 😭🩵 a little over 6.3k words 🥹🥹🥹

[hackauthorairplane]

He Needs Me / He Needs Me

Qijiu attifwifing fic is on ao3!!!!

Summary:

Shen Jiu drinks what he thinks is poison because Yue Qingyuan gave it to him and he has decided to accept death...but he wakes up? In chains and immortal binding cables? In different clothes? Hey! Who changed his clothes!? Or: My answer to the question, "What could have fixed qijiu?"

Tags to watch out for: atticwifing, bondage, dubcon/noncon, overstimulation, blowjobs, nipple play, happy ending!

:'D

[bi-the-wei]

A Stay of Execution

Prologue

Wei Wuxian had always thought that it should rain on the day he died. That the sky might see fit to open up and weep for him seemed the very least it could do. Instead the small breath of wind that trickled through the narrow slit in the stone that functioned as his only window brought with it the scent of warmth and sunlight. He imagined he could almost hear a bird chirping somewhere, trilling a merry tune. Honestly, it was almost insulting. Though, he supposed, if the sun had deigned to come and watch his final moments... Perhaps he truly was as rotten as they all said.

Either way, there was no longer a soul alive who would weep for him now.

In the end, he hadn't fought being captured. He'd gone rather quietly. In fact, he still hadn't said a single word. Not to anyone. He hadn't spoken as they stripped him down to brand his skin . He hadn't spoken when they'd sheered off his hair, sawing at fistfuls of dark locks with a dull blade that ripped more than it cut. Or when they bound his hands . When they spilled his meager rations on the floor. When they taunted him. Insulted him. Beat him. He didn't speak when they closed the door to the dank cupboard that would be his last home. When they told him that he would be executed for his crimes. Not a word. Not a sound.

Wei Wuxian stumbled a bit as he was dragged out of his cell. It had been months since he'd been able to fully extend his legs and torso at the same time, the chain that bound his arms to the floor too short for him to stand at his full height, and the room too narrow to extend them while sitting. The three guards assigned to take him to whatever fate awaited him laughed and tried to make him stumble again, spitting at his face when he didn't.

"This is more than you deserve," one of them grumbled bitterly. His voice was like a fuse and flint stone, clicking on hard consonants and hissing his S's. "A quick, clean death is more than you were willing to give." "I guess no one else is twisted enough to do what you did though," sneered the second guard. This one almost sounded like a whine, thin and nasally and pinched. "No one else could be as monstrous as you."

The third guard said nothing, but his boots still fell heavily on the stone floor. His grip on Wei Wuxian's arm was the most painful. ' That'll bruise by tomorrow' , Wei Wuxian thought dully. ' Well, it would have anyway .' As they began to climb up a narrow staircase, the cloth they had kept over his eyes slipped just enough that he could almost make out the color of his drab, rough robes, as well as the sinister design that adorned them. His foot caught on a rough stone, but he didn't stumble again.

~*~

In the end the guards had to half-drag Wei Wuxian for the final length of their journey. After months of abuse and disuse, his legs just couldn't carry him the entire way. They trembled to bear his weight, and it was a challenge just to keep them moving one in front of the other.

In the end this was fortunate, because if he had been in charge of supporting himself alone he may have collapsed the moment his face hit true sunlight.

The gentle warmth of the sun felt like a scalding brand on his cold skin. The light was blinding even through the cloth over his eyes. His first breath of fresh, clean air after months and months of smelling nothing but wet, rotten dirt and stone made him so dizzy he nearly retched. And the noise- oh the noise- so much noise.

He took in every overwhelming sensation with careful attention, cherishing the pain it brought him. It was as if knowing that his final breath was drawing near, he thought he could take in the rest of his natural life all at once if he tried hard enough. It was okay that it hurt. He welcomed the burn.

The wind scraped against his skin, his chopped hair, now grown back nearly past his shoulders, making his neck itch - a neck that he was lucky to still have.

All this in only a moment before he was pushed forward again - up uneven stairs and onto some sort of platform. The heavy chains that still bound his raw wrists were grabbed and yanked so violently he had no choice but to fall hard to his knees. When he tried to catch himself with his shackled limbs, the chain was wrenched again. He only just managed to keep his face from smashing against the ground and received a hard kick in reward, causing him to fall backwards instead. All his breath left him and he couldn't help but curl in on himself, coughing and rasping to get it back.

In the end it was the third guard who graciously helped him back up onto his knees. With a helpful hand grasping him by the hair, he was pulled unceremoniously upwards. With just as much care, his blindfold was ripped away. He cried out at last, flinching as the unfiltered light from the sun assaulted him again. He heard screams as he blinked out in the vague direction of a crowd. A crowd that shrank back away from him, terrified of him even now. Even in the state he was in.

"Have no fear!" called a familiar, booming voice next to him. "We took great care before bringing him here before you today. See the symbols on his robes! He has been bound and sealed. I have cut him off from his heretical magic. I have stopped his murderous ambitions and denied him the joys of his evil. His eyes can do you no more harm. He is contained and you are safe at last!" It was then that Wei Wuxian realized that some of the bright, flashing gold that blinded him was not just from the sun, but rather the illustrious gaudy robes of a tall man standing beside him. Of course, after what he had done to his son, it would only make sense for his long over-due sentence to be overseen by the great Jin Guangshan himself. Even Wei Wuxian had to admit that was only fair, even if it meant he had to listen to the man postulate his own magnificence and blather on and on and on.

In all honesty, he'd really rather they just get on with it. The showmanship seemed a bit redundant.

"This man. This devil. This Demon of Yiling. You all know of him. He haunts our children's stories; a tale of caution to those who seek power!" he expounded. Wei Wuxian stifled a scoff. "He who started as a servant, who used a terrible war to greedily climb rank and assert his will over the lives of innocents. A parasite who manipulated the very life force of the world to do his bidding so that he may claw his way into society. So that he may fool us into believing in his consequence. This evil creature who corrupted the dead with his black magics! Who stole the life energy of my only son! I bring him now before you so that you may know his crimes."

The silent guard gripped him again, yanking him up forcefully by the hair once more and bringing him closer to the crowd, where all could see him in his shame. His neck strained with the effort of supporting a body his legs still could not hold. "See him now, his hair shorn in his shame. His honor cast aside with it. See him now and judge him guilty!

I lay before you the record of his evil. Hear me now and know them."

Jin Guangshan preened under the attention he had commanded. He basked in the silent anticipation of his next words, pausing to let them sink in further before listing the numerous crimes in question.

Really the true list wasn't THAT long. Yes it was true that Wei Wuxian had found a new form of magic - one that manipulated life force instead of spirit. But he hadn't used any of the life force of another living human. He drew a firm line in the sand that he swore he would never cross. He could steal only the life forces of plants and trees. The last breath of a fallen soldier. Himself.

And he kept that code. He hadn't stolen life directly... not until... Until he'd been face to face with true evil - with Wen Ruohan himself.  It was heady watching the light leave his eyes. Here was a man who used his wealth of spiritual power, cultivated with such care, who had hoped to use that power to obtain true immortality - who had thought that it gave him the right to force his will upon the world.   To watch as all that power came to nothing, as all that power was not enough to stop Wei Wuxian from draining his life away. The surge of power that rushed through his meridians - the full life force of a living human... It would have overtaken a lesser man. Heady and instantly addictive. But he'd pushed through it. Pushed it back out and dispersed it into the air. What use did he have for such power? The war was done. He'd saved them all. He'd done it. They were free and now he could finally pursue his own desires. His own freedom. His own life. His own...

He had broken his code, yes, but surely this end justified those means? As long as he never did it again, it would mean that at his core he was still a good man. He wouldn't have said it felt good, but he could at least live with himself. He had fought harder than any other soldier. Protected more than any other soldier. He had won countless battles and finally, finally ended this pointless war.

Wei Wuxian and Wen Ruohan had fallen to the floor in tandem. It wasn't until he'd woken a week later and noticed how people flinched when they saw him, how they skirted away when they could avoid him entirely, that he realized he'd had an audience to his horrors. And even then, none of that could be called a criminal, despite the tale being twisted now. No, nothing he'd done in the war could be truly held against him... But what happened after...

"Unsatisfied with the killing, no longer able to slake his thirst for violence with a war, this monster sought out his next victims! The poor innocents, guilty only of a shared name, were hunted down like sport! He took their very souls simply to sate his own blood lust!   "And when my Zixuan, my precious son... When he tried to stop this senseless slaughter - to try to reason with this deranged creature - to show him mercy and compassion! When he tried to put an end to the blood and death, this demon stole his soul as well! And now my grandson grows without a father. My daughter in law without a husband. My wife without a son." Again he paused, letting sympathy and anger stew in the crowd's hearts. "See now as we give him more than he would have given them; a trial! He may have decided to bring about his own twisted justice, but see now that we shall not! A demon he may be, but let none say that we judge him unjustly!   "Speak, demon! And tell us of your guilt!"

Wei Wuxian's hair was tugged again, drawing the crowd's focus back to his gaunt form. His eyes, finally adjusting to the harsh daylight, searched through the mass of people. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. Sympathy? Familiarity? Sadness? Of course there would be none - he was guilty and had no intention of denying it.

"Did you or did you not create black magics, evil and heretical, and use this power to slaughter thousands?" "I did," Wei Wuxian said. His voice, rasping with dehydration and disuse, did not waver.

"Did you or did you not hunt down remnant factions of the Wens, men and women that should have been brought to trial, only to cut them down instead?

"I did."

"Did you or did you not, when my son tried to stop the violence, to plead with you to stop the fighting and lay down your wicked ways, steal away his precious life?!"

"I did."

"He admits it! You hear now from his very mouth - the plea of guilt! You hear now the sins against his soul! The evils of his actions!" There was no silence now. The roiling anger of the mob before him was like the agitated buzzing of a hundred angry wasps.

"For this crime, I would have his head!" Jin Guangshan bellowed. Wei Wuxian was once again forced to move. This time he was half dragged to a solid block of wood. Stained red and jagged from use, he was pulled forward until its sharp splinters dug into his neck. A mirror was angled carefully so that he could see the executioner take his position behind him. Ah, so that's why they let him keep his eyes.

"Tell me now, would any of you here speak against this judgment? Tell me now if anyone would speak against this justice? I stand before you in grief and anger and ask you now will anyone claim this man?"

Wei Wuxian had never known true silence before this moment. It was as if the world itself had decided to hold its breath. He watched as the executioner grasped his axe. He watched his muscles tense to pick it up. He watched as--

“I will speak for him."

The silence was cracked by a cold, even voice. Wei Wuxian tore his eyes away from the reflection of that sharp blade and searched desperately for who had spoken.

Lan Wangji.

His voice had been firm and matter of fact. His golden eyes hadn’t even flickered in Wei Wuxian's direction. The maddening silence took on an almost desperate tone now, all eyes passing between the two men.

He spoke again.

“I will offer my hand to save him from this sentence.”

Lan Wangji finally looked at him then, his expression as unreadable as it had always been. He seemed to be waiting for something

“Wh-What?” he wheezed. He didn't understand what was happening. This couldn't be real. Maybe this was just a delusion he'd conjured to comfort himself before the ax finally fell.  Maybe it had already fallen.

"Lan Wangji, you speak for this man?"

"I do."

"Despite his crimes, which he himself admitted before your very eyes, you would spare him?" "I would."

"You would tie yourself to this monster?"

"Yes."

The crowd was anything but silent now. Cries of shock and outrage poured from every direction. The righteous Lan Wangji was sparing the Demon of Yiling? The man who knew only justice and virtue, the hero of the war, would take that evil man into his home? Marry him?

Somehow, through the clamorous noise, Jin Guangshan made himself heard once more. He spoke through gritted teeth, as if each word came at a great cost.

"Wei Wuxian, Demon of Yiling. This man has offered himself to you. Would you accept his hand? Or do you accept my ax?"

The pressure holding him against the block was released, letting him sit up to consider which fate he preferred: to bind himself in a loveless marriage, or to regain what little honor he had left in death. How kind.

Lan Wangji stood straight and firm and unyielding before him. Wei Wuxian had loved him for so long - since they were children. He had always dreamed of being wed to this man... But not like this.

Lan Wangji thought he owed Wei Wuxian a life debt. That's why he was doing this. Out of duty. Moral obligation. Not love. Wei Wuxian would be truly cruel indeed to accept this. To force Lan Wangji into a marriage with a man he couldn't stand....

"I, Wei Wuxian, accept your hand, Lan Wangji. I will marry you."

[personwholoveschocolate]

hey what the fuck is going on

so we all saw new trailer and would you look at that someone (x) noticed that actually izzy's new leg belongs (used to) to the unicorn on the 'revenge'

and ah! look at that is it izzy training stede? wow how peculiar and different from what we were left with in the end of season two right? totally not in his character at all right?

well what if..... WRONG!!!!! what if it's entirely right and consistently of him? SO

let's see what we have in these moments we can see that Izzy with Ed (and his stylish goth makeup) has his whole left leg (read this he has his knee) (and stede has beard lol)

BUT then when we see him with Stede, training him, just hanging around or whatever

there's goes off half of his leg and it replaced with unicorns forelimb (and! its important, we dont see ed with him anymore) (theres no makeup) (and also stede doesnt have a beard lol)

so theres probably something big happened between these two phases. i wanna take a wild guess. maybe ed left izzy. and maybe izzy lost half of his left leg. and then maybe stede saved/helped him, and theoreticly speaking now izzy owes him. or. something like that. and that why he's helping him.

so anyway what do you think????? there has to be the reason why izzy just hangs around stede now

heheeee i cant wait watch this season!!!!

[lesbijkas]

Together (Dead) a "what if Lup never went missing looking for the Pheonix Fire Gauntlet and was sent out with Taako post voidfish memory wipe" fic; non-chronological, (temporary) major character death, angst/goofs, hurt/comfort

2 chapters are up now, one written two years ago acting as the prologue with a second brand new chapter to boot. please read. and enjoy.

[queseresere]

More for @chrisrin ‘s gemcyt AU!!! The knights my beloved!

I am happy with Wels and Hels. Having said that:

I like both Fire Opal and Black Fire Opal in general. I am conflicted on the design though. FO is more elegant and by far my favorite. However, BFO is much closer in tone to Hels and Wels. I also think it would be funny if the two swords just equal more swords. That was the original reason for the two designs; I could not decide on the weapons FO/BFO should have. The coloration of the two makes me feel like BFO would be more realistic in terms of fusion when looking at the counterparts. In my mind, to excuse having two designs, the fusion is very unstable and therefore the outcome is fluid. I imagine that depending on who is in charge the exterior appearance may differ. But BFO introduces another modifier to the gem type so I wonder if it would be more realistic to have it be a three gem fusion, especially with the introduction of more colors. The colors bring up another issue and that is the design. It was very difficult to balance the colors of BFO to look good together. However, I think this could be looked at positively as a representation of the incompatibility of Hels and Wels.

To summarize, Fire Opal feels too pastel and Black Fire Opal feels too complex/jarring so I am having trouble settling on one design.

[mutantblues]

It’s the 24th of June, when one of the wagon-wheels breaks. Somehow it feels like an outdated problem, but everything in this corner of Bavaria feels a little outdated, so maybe that’s just fitting.

The travelling Jahrmarkt comes to a full stop just short of a small village, and the people start filtering out of the wagons and carts to solve their little problem and stretch their legs. Kurt wishes he could join them; he spent all day cramped up in his mother’s fortune-telling wagon, and all he wants is to walk around.

But their arrival near the village doesn’t go unnoticed for long, and soon a handful of villagers, drawn out by the sudden commotion, come to check on what is going on. They seem like nice people, striking up conversation and offering help, even though it is not needed, but Kurt is still Kurt, and mother reminds him to stay in the wagon and not come outside. The nicest people can turn horrible, if they get scared.

It’s not like the wagon is extremely uncomfortable, but it’s hot and stuffy, and the summer sun burns down on the Jahrmarkt with a vengeance. If Kurt could at least open one of the windows. But mother insists, that that could be dangerous as well. What if one of the villagers gets curious and throws a glance inside? Stay inside, stay quiet, stay unseen.

He should be used to it by now. And maybe he is, but it’s not easy, and it doesn’t get easier.

Through a crack in the old wood, Kurt can see Stephen and Jimaine. A boy from the village has joined them in the overgrown grass next to the road. He seems to be around their age, maybe a little younger, but neither of his siblings seems to mind. They are playing catch.

Kurt bits his lip until it hurts and tries not to be jealous.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair. It’s not fair! But somehow nobody seems to care, what a small blue boy considers to be fair.

By the time the wheel is fixed, evening has rolled in. The sun is setting and one of the farmers offers the Jahrmarkt to stay on one of his fields for the night. Free of charge. Truly nice folk… Kurt still wishes they would leave.

When Stephen and Jimaine come inside again, they are flushed and out of breath and smiling from ear to ear. Kurt tries to match their energy. He’s not quite sure that he succeeds. His siblings tell him what they learned from the village boy.

There’s a celebration tonight. In fact, there’s a celebration in the entire area Johannisfeuer, they call it.

Jamaine says that all through the night a giant fire will burn, but she can’t exactly tell him why. Truth be told, Kurt doesn’t really care why. He imagines dancing flames on the hillside behind the village and knows that mother would never allow it.

His suspicion gets proven right, when Jimaine asks their mother later that evening, if the three of them can go have a look. She insists that they would stay in the shadows, but mother still forbids it. The Jahrmarkt is only staying for one night, they need to get in a few extra miles the next day, if they want to make it to their next location in time, so they will have to head out early. And besides, with Kurt there, it’s far too dangerous.

And so, after dinner and completing their chores, the children get sent to bed. Kurt hears Jimaine complain about it, but Stephen tells her that at least they got to play outside, for a bit.

The uncomfortable feeling of jealousy rears its head again.

It’s stupid, Kurt is well aware of that, but he still makes a decision that night. Once he hears mother settle in for the night, he slips out of the wagon and vanishes in the shadows between his travelling home. He will get in trouble for this, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

The village is dark and eerie. Like a ghost town, with not one lit window, it lays in the darkness of the night. But when he strains his ears, Kurt can hear the faint sound of laughter carried on the wind. Using the shadows to his advantage, the boy finds his way to a road that leads up the hill. Houses line the road on both sides, but they get more and more sparing the further up he gets. The laughter, however, gets louder.

Kurt passes the last house, at the very top of the road, and finds himself in front of a meadow. The grass is dry, and even in the darkness, Kurt can make out that the long grass is more brown-grey than green.  The road continues to his left and right, but Kurt doesn’t pay attention to the paths that diverge. He is too captivated, by what he sees further up the hill. There, on a section of the meadow that has been shortened drastically and is lined with a few water-tanks, is the fire. It’s tall, maybe not quite as tall as he imagined in his youthful fantasy, but still taller than any fire he has ever seen before. Silhouettes of people linger around it, talking, laughing, having the time of their lives. Kurt wishes he could be one of them.

Ignoring the paths to both his sides, Kurt steps onto the dry grass. It scratches the skin beneath the fuzzy fur on his legs, and he can feel small seeds get stuck to him. He doesn’t care. Keeping the fire in a wide birth to his left, Kurt makes his way further up the hill. Always making sure that he stays far away from the firelight's glow.

He finds a tree, close enough to the light, that his eyes still allow him to see what is going on, but far enough that it’s not in danger of being ignited by the fire, that dances against the night sky. Without thinking too much about it, Kurt teleports onto one of the lower hanging branches. The action makes him dizzy. Teleporting upwards feels weird.

He perches on the branch, his tail wrapping around the rough wood as an extra measurement.

A bunch of foldable beer benches and tables have been put close to the giant fire. It seems like the entire village is gathered there. They laugh and talk and drink. They lean against each other, lean over to other tables. Kurt wonders what it would be like to be among them. The Jahrmarkt people can be a rowdy folk, but Kurt feels like he is witnessing something different here. An entire village of close-knit people, instead of just a small Caravan of misfits and those who strangely want to be them.

His attention is pulled away from the people around the tall fire. A few feet away, sits another fire, far smaller, much more manageable. Three beer benches stand around it, and on these benches the children. They’re holding sticks over the flames and when Kurt tries really hard, he is sure he can smell the scent of roasting dough on open flames on the wind. The children seem engrossed in their own conversations. Kurt can spot the boy that played catch with his siblings among them. His cheeks are red in the glow of the flames.

He is holding his own stick pretty low, and Kurt watches as it dips under its own weight and the dough lands in the ash at the bottom of the flames. A few of the kids snicker, but the boy insists, that it’s still edible. Kurt wonders what the dough must take like.

Next to the boy, a girl shakes her head and declares loudly that she is the best at making their food. She pulls her own stick from the flames and proudly presents it to the others. Kurt leans forward on his branch. He wants to see. But when the girl triumphantly goes to peel a piece of the bread off her stick, the dough turns out to still be mostly raw.

The children around her laugh – not mean, just amused by her bolstering attitude, only to fail – and Kurt can’t help but giggle with them. But he clasps one of his hands in front of his mouth, as he does so. He can’t be seen, can’t be heard after all.

The night continues, and with each passing moment, Kurt finds himself more and more enamoured by these people. He has only known them for a few hours, but he starts to feel like he belongs to these people, that do nothing but laugh, talk, have fun and drink beer.

When he closes his eyes, he can imagine that he is sitting among them, with a stick of his own in his hands. He can pretend that he feels the heat of the fire on his face and the laughter of the other children in his ears.

But it’s just make-believe, play pretend, and Kurt is reminded of that every time his eyes stray from the fire and find his three fingered blue hands tightly holding on to the branch underneath him.

Still, Kurt remains. He watches as one of the younger boys takes his stick and holds it up like he is leading a parade. Other young ones join him in his procession, and soon they are walking around the benches in single file.

A few of the slightly older kids, barely teens, confiscate one of the foldable beer tables. They turn it into a slide and the children take turns sliding down the wooden surface. It looks fun.

Kurt watches, as two teens steel away from the fire, they walk hand in hand into the darkness, just past the tree he is hiding on, and Kurt presses himself as far back as he can get in fear of being seen. He can hear them talk about running away together, and silently wonders who would ever want to leave a place like this.

His attention is pulled back to the smaller fire, when screeching laughter reaches his ears. The kids have made room, all of them standing back and in surprising unison chanting a name. One of the older boys stands at one end of the fire. There’s a confident smile on his face, as he seizes the flames in front of him.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what he is planning to do. Kurt crawls to the edge of the branch. His finger’s tightly holding on, as he tries to get as close to what is about to happen as possible. Hopefully the boy will manage to jump over the fire.

The chanting gets louder and louder, and – an angry yell drowns the kids out. A guy is marching over to the boy who has the other kids so riled up. He is tall and brought, and he angrily grips the boy's forearm. Waving a finger in front of his face. No jumping over fires in this night, Kurt realized, and curiously finds that he is a little disappointed by the fact.

Hours pass and with each Kurt tries to remind himself that he has to go. He needs to return to his wagon, or he will be in big trouble. But he just can’t bring himself to leave. He can’t let go of the sight before him.

The villagers, however, can. The later the hour gets, the more of them decide to call it a night until there’s only a handful of them left. They finish the remaining beer bottles and start the process of distinguishing the flames. Dawn is still a little bit away, but the sky is already starting to brighten in the east and Kurt knows that he has to leave now, now, now! Or he runs the risk of getting spotted, but he just can’t bring himself to do so.

This may as well be the only opportunity he will ever get to experience something like this. A moment like this may as well never come again. He has to stay.

The final men leave, and Kurt can count his lucky stars that they didn’t look in the direction of the tree he is perched on. He watches as their backs retreat down the hill.

By the time he finally slips off the tree and dares to step closer, there is nothing left of the fire. Only a few pieces of charred wood and ash remain, silently waiting to be cleaned up, when the villagers have recovered from this night of drinking.

He passes the tall fire, or the scorched earth that lay beneath it, and heads right for the spot where the smaller fire had burned. The slide the children fashioned out of the table is still there, collecting moisture in the early morning mist, that clings to the grass beneath Kurt's feet and makes his fur stand on end. Kurt lets his hands glide over one of the benches that still stand exactly there where they had stood during the night. It, too, has taken on the moisture. It’s wet and cold, but Kurt sits down on it anyway. A lone stick lies next to it, forgotten sometime during the night. Its tip is charred.

Kurt bends down and picks it up. The stick is thin between his fingers, but he simply closes his eyes and holds it over the ash that remains of the small fire. When he concentrates, he can smell the roasting of the dough again, he can feel the heat of the fire flicker over his face, almost too hot to be comfortable, and he can feel the comforting presence of other children around him, sharing a bench with him, their shoulder’s pressed together. He can hear them laugh about something one of them said.

But then he opens his eyes again, and the spell is broken. There is no fire, not roasting dough, no kids that want to be his friends. There’s just a lonely blue boy and the charred remains of a beautiful fantasy.

Kurt sighs, he drops the stick in the dirt and stands up to leave. The moment of last night is over, it will not come again. And maybe that realization is why he stops after a few steps away from the fireplace and turns around. For one moment he simply stares at the scorched earth, then he begins to run. His feet leave the grassy ground and in one mighty leap he clears the spot.

Despite the loneliness that gnaws at his heart as he makes his way back to the field where he left his family, despite the fact that he has to stick to backyards and shadows and hide and dash, so nobody will see him, and despite the fact that a heap load of trouble is awaiting him, as he enters mothers’ wagon, Kurt smiles. It’s a painful memory, this night of fire and laughter, but he is glad was there to experience it.

[wintfleur]

https://www.tumblr.com/wintfleur/747430278348292096/i-am-so-excited-for-my-next-au-omg-omg-omg-and

Any hints please

Ofc ofc nonnie 😽

She’s going to be an f1 driver . . . and in a poly relationship with 2 NhL players 🤭

[introspectivememories]

excerpts from my months old wip "think i'll miss you forever (like the stars miss the sun in the morning sky)"

[thedreamingpiscesfangirl42]

New Zestmilla fic is up! 🥰 4.6k words for this one, but I’m deciding whether or not to do a second part to it 🥹 for literally not knowing anything about ballet, I feel like I did good on this one! 🩵 I apologize ahead of time for any discrepancies 🫡

[sarosthewizarddude]

I uhh. I made a playlist.

An ineffable husbands playlist.

:))))

[darkcat8]

@gelu-the-babosa-multiversal

I have a headcanon that Kay is somehow from egyxos. The bracelet of Ra wasn't the only powerful artifact from egyxos what another actifact thought to be lost. The ancient spear that was made by ra just as powerful as bracelet of Ra. Was given to Egyptian warriors who chose to fight in the war after centuries, the spear disappeared. Legend says only the last descendant of the egyptians warriors could only wheel the spear as well as be its Guardian.

I think how Kay would discover the spear is a distant sick uncle of hers show her there ancient history then shows her the spear( I picture like a family member who the family thing there crazy but actually being right who close to the hero cliche) instantly Kay felt a connection to the spear and so as she touched it she was see memories that were her own. Her uncle explains that she was the last egyptian warrior and explained the history of the spear and his time is coming to an end. It is her time now. Right that Kay and her uncle encountered a tan color jackal with black eyes. A battle started as Kay transformed into her battle and somehow what to do like she's done before. The jackal laughed says, " If the legends are true, you must be the last egyptian warrior. First, the last Pharaoh returns, and now you, the last warrior of egyptian, rise. Somehow, Kay drops the spear right where the jackal can get it. The thing is, when Jackal picks up the spear. The spear it's self starts to burn in the jackal hands. The jackal drops the spear as Kay reaches for the spear. Somehow, the spear at lightning speed went to Kay hand. (Basically, Kay and the Spear are like thor and his hammer. Just add a psychic connection) After Kay won the battle, she demanded to know who the jackal was and where he came from. The jackal laughed again, grabbing the bottom of the spear, which somehow the spear showed Kay everything she needed and wanted to know. Kay saw egyxos, the battle, and this last Pharaoh the jackal had mentioned earlier. After that day, Kay started to go to egyxos the spearwas to take her there. Clearly, she would try to stay out of sight. But one day, the spear leading to the dark pyramid. Were a battle between the G.A. and D.A. was taking place. She didn't know why, but she joined where she ran in the last Pharaoh, and she didn't know why, but Kay thought there was something familiar about the last Pharaoh but she couldn't place it. Ever since that day along the G.A. she was on D.A. radar. So after that encounter, Kay started going after the Dark army. So, to make none of her family or friends get involved, she uses her full name, kayra