#ruse writes

[nightly-ruse]

Straying From the Stars AU

Sol the Serpent In Your Ear

Sol in this is not a cat to say and more a trickster, a deity who sweeps across the land on the wind currents to cause mischief wherever he wants. He especially loves to show up and then disappear in the shadows.

He was just soaring past a beautiful glittering lake when he hears a wail, the burst of emotion so strong it draws him down where he finds a cat weeping over her dead brother. Impaled in the chest the dead one was and the other broken in the heart.

Sol pads out of the dense grasses and sinks his long neck down to whisper into the grieving cat’s ear “What a shame, a brother taken too soon it seems.” Mothwing is shaken and jumps up bristling to look at the thing that whispered in her ears to find a cat she can’t quite describe.

He’s long and sleek but fluffy, snake like but also with the mane of a lion and eyes like the sun. She swears his red and black pelt is moving, slightly shifting by itself. A shiver goes down her spine as she meets his eyes. Something isn’t right about this… cat? She can’t even tell if he is a cat like her. Something else, something different. Moth feels her mind snap as if it was a bone and someone wanted the marrow inside. Her throat feels tight. Waiting on sharp breath for it to speak.

“I am-“ it takes a second to lick his teeth “Sol. A tragedy has struck here. This beautiful lake washes with blood in its waves. What a horrible sight.”

Mothwing blinks only to find him beside her. She thought she should pull away but for some reason her limbs stayed rigid. It takes a second of clearing her throat but she’s finally able to speak.

“He is my brother. Hawkfrost. Someone has taken him from me. He’s all I had left.” She says with a slight crack to her voice. Every time she blinks she sees his face before it was so… ghostly. Her heart feels like ice cracking, her paws sinking into the deep water underneath it’s breaking sheet. Though she doesn’t cry she knows this Sol can feel the pain that’s struck her. His eyes almost reflecting the frost that she felt creeping over her.

“Grief is a powerful thing. While some sink into its deepest darkest caverns others use it, like a weapon to fight. He would’ve fought. I can see it in his body, a real fighter like his namesake. But you Mothwing… you will either burn brighter then the sun or drown and be snuffed out by griefs waters.” Sol stared at her, his eyes boring into her pelt. While before she was wary of him she could feel something else. He knew Hawk, he felt him like she did. He was a brother the stranger never knew but cared for.

The two just stared at each other with gazes so conflicted they almost mirrored one another’s.

“I can help you fly, help you get whoever took down your brother. All I need is your word and I’ll stay true to mine.”

Mothwing hated trusting others especially not some mysterious stranger but she could feel that Sol meant it. His word was strong. He wouldn’t break whatever pact they were to make. And she knew he could see that she wouldn’t break it either.

“Word of what?” She whispered as a ember slowly sparked in her chest. As if a knew passion filled the whole her brother left.

“To make the liars and destroyers pay. The ones who ruin others lives and claim themselves as heroes. The ones who let your Hawk crash and stabbed him in the heart. And to bring a new rule to the clans.” His words felt slippery and sharp but they stuck to her mind. A burr clinging to her head as she thought. Everyone was gone, everything she used to believe in didn’t matter. The clans live on a broken code that punishes unfairly and ruins cats like her brother.

“With my word I will help you. And together we will mend the world into a new one. All I need is your loyalty to our plan and I will make the stars themselves shiver in fear. What do you say?”

The stars left her alone, made everyone unsure of her. They let bad cats into power like her father and chased good hearted ones like her mother away. And the cats act like it’s all fair. But Mothwing’s heard the tales of cats torn apart by that code, how it made them hurt so much more. Mapleshade’s story, Oakheart and Bluestar, her own dear Leafpool. Her heart fluttered as it thought of her.

Mothwing looked down at her brother once more, his fur bloodied and body lifeless. He was so hopeful once, so bright, he kept her going after their brother’s death and when their mother left. When Mudfin turned her down for so long when all she wanted was to be a medic all because their stars shook their heads no. He got her to the place she wanted. And died for it. No cat would fall like he did. No more would suffer like she has.

“You have my word. We will tear the stars apart and change the clans. No cat will die like Hawk did. Never again.”

[heich0e]

every year on your wedding anniversary osamu convinces you to take your ring off and go wedding cake tasting at local bakeries while pretending that the two of you are still engaged

[eoieopda]

<whispers in your ear> Cheol x Reader where he’s her brother’s friend? 🙏

the one with seungcheol and the ruse

pairing: choi seungcheol x jeon!reader summary: your knight’s shining armor is actually of flannel, but he gets the job done. cw: reader’s gender/sexuality are left up to interpretation, annoying ex, alcohol mention, the setting is a bar, wonwoo doesn’t actually appear but my girl lee youngji does (lmao) au: older brother’s best friend, fake dating (sort of) type: drabble (fluff-adjacent) rating: pg15 wc: 1.4 🔞 MINORS WHO INTERACT WITH ME AND/OR MY CONTENT WILL BE BLOCKED, WHETHER OR NOT THE CONTENT IS NSFW. I’M AN ADULT WRITING EXCLUSIVELY FOR OTHER ADULTS.

The similarities between you and your brother start and stop with genetic material. While you’d rather die than spend a Saturday night at home alone, Wonwoo would sooner drop dead than divorce himself from his PC just to leave his apartment. 

All things considered, it’s not much of a surprise when you roll up to the bar with your friends and find your brother’s there without him. Just the same, you’re not shocked when the cursory wave you give goes unnoticed; they’re all too busy guzzling shots to care who walks by.

All but one, that is.

The oldest, Seungcheol, lifts his pint glass in acknowledgment when he sees you come in from the cold. That gesture comes with a bonus in the form of a lazy half-smile, which almost has you tripping over your own feet. Now effectively tattooed on your brain, you still picture that lopsided grin while you cross the room to claim a booth.

Of the boys taking up space at the bar, Seungcheol is the closest to your brother — and, as a natural consequence, the closest to you. So, you tell yourself, it’s only natural that your focus keeps drifting in his way. More than that, it’s polite, checking in to make sure he’s having fun. 

Wonwoo would want that for him, after all.

Right?

More often than not, Seungcheol is too engrossed in his friends’ shenanigans to feel your casual — polite — gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. Even though he’s not looking in your direction, you find it hard to stop glancing in his. It can’t be helped; it’s always been this way. There’s only one conclusion left to draw: 

Choi Seungcheol was tailor-made to distract you.

First, it’s the fact that his hair is quite a bit longer now than when you saw him at your parents’ anniversary party a few weeks ago. The more you stare at those dark waves, the more you try to justify it to yourself. As far as you’ll admit, it has nothing whatsoever to do with how soft those tresses look; nor any desire you may or may not have to touch them and test your theory. 

No, you’re simply trying to determine what vitamins or supplements he takes to achieve that perfect shine — because whatever he’s doing is working.

When you stop gawking at his head, it’s his hands that trip you up. The way they grip Soonyoung’s biceps when the younger of the two starts wobbling, threatening to topple over onto a soju-sticky floor. The urge you feel to throw yourself at the ground and see who catches you is purely scientific, you tell yourself. 

Research.

If it’s not his body, it’s the sound he makes, laughing like a mad man with his whole chest. You have to peel your velcro gaze off of him to see what he’s laughing at: Kim Mingyu, who attempted to catch a tossed peanut in his mouth but ended up getting hit between the eyebrows.

You’d let yourself be pelted with peanuts if it made him laugh like that again — and, quite frankly, you have no excuses left to give about why that is.

Nine times out of ten, your friends are smirking when you finally turn back around because they know exactly where your eyes keep wandering — and to whom. They point out the way your cheeks and ears flame up. Each time they do, you blame it on the alcohol, though none of you believe it.

When you turn around for the tenth time, however,  they’re not smirking. Instead, they’re pushing their empty glasses your way.

“You’re on refill duty, aren’t you?” Youngji asks with a single eyebrow raised. 

You’re not, but she’s not blind. She knows how much you want to hover, and how desperately you need an excuse to do so.

Seungkwan, quick on the uptake, chugs what’s left of his cocktail. His face is still twisted from the sour syrup when he waves his now-empty glass in front of you. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to; his narrowed eyes are menacing, and they tell you everything he’s thinking.

You sigh, put-upon, even though everyone knows you aren’t. Lips pursed tight, you keep that giddy grin to yourself as you collect the glasses and skip off towards the bar.

After giving your orders to the bartender, you glance — for the millionth time — over to your brother’s friends. The one you’re looking for is nowhere to be seen. Bravely, you do your best not to pout.

“Hey,” comes a low voice from behind you.

It’s a miracle that your head doesn’t roll with how quickly you swivel around. 

As soon as you do, your face falls. The excited flip in your stomach is swiftly replaced by a wave of nausea. Your tone is clipped and drenched in disappointment when you respond: “Can I help you?”

Your ex never could take a hint. They breeze right past that deadly look on your face, sidle up next to you at the bar until their shoulder is damn near bumping into yours. Worse, they open their mouth to speak again.

“Haven’t seen you around much lately —”

Is that not the point of breaking up with someone?

Desperate, your eyes scan the room for anyone who might notice the giant, neon exclamation point flashing above your head. Nobody you stare pointedly at feels your gaze on them, so you switch targets — again, again, again. Your brother’s friends are equally as useless as your own, it seems.

What if you tap “SOS” in morse code?

“— I’ve missed you. Missed us.”

Shit. 

Why didn’t you learn morse code?

You’re ready to sprint headlong out of the bar entirely when an arm — thankfully not your ex’s — drapes around your shoulders. With a quick glance up, you confirm that there’s truth to the meme: not all heroes wear capes. 

As it turns out, some heroes wear flannels, and they accessorize them with jaws clenched tightly enough to crack teeth.

“Jagi, who’s this?” 

Seungcheol’s posture relaxes just a little when he looks down at you. You swallow and keep your swooning to a minimum. There’s sweetness dripping from his tone that you want to bathe in. 

“I thought I’d met all your friends by now.”

When you let him pull you closer to his side — so close that your head can rest against his goddamn pectoral — you tell yourself that it’s just part of the bit. The affectionate smile he sends your way is part of the ruse. He’s convincing, though; you’d fall for this con, too.

You and your moon-sized eyes begrudgingly shift focus from Seungcheol to your ex, who still hasn’t taken the hint. That lovesick smile of yours is gone in an instant, giving way to the flattest affect you can muster. The sugar-laced voice you speak with is a far cry from the unblinking and unapologetic expression on your face. “I’m so sorry, but I don’t recall your name! What was it?”

Suddenly, Seungcheol unwraps his arm from around you. He seems to sense that this change-up startles you, so he winks at you while he leaning forward into the space between you and your ex; hands reaching for the drinks you’ve been waiting on.

Oh, you realize. He’s making sure you get the last word.

You swallow thickly as you reach out to take your burden off his hands. He shakes his head and beckons you with a smile, eyes softening. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ve got these.”

You do as he says, following close behind him like a puppy, and you only stop when he does. Seungcheol looks back over his shoulder, calling out first to the bartender: 

“Can you put these on my tab? The name’s Choi.”

Then, dropping all pretense of friendliness, to your ex:

“Get home safe, eh, chingu?”

When you both resume your path to your table, you squeeze his elbow and whisper, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” he urges, shaking his head a second time. Although he’s smiling, there’s some unspoken conflict in his eyes that you can’t quite parse. You can’t ask after it, either, because he stops stalling and sighs, “That’s what pseudo-brothers are for, right?”

[burstfoot]

O wise one in the ways of vessels, what is your verdict on Whisperain/Dusk and Dusk/Deepcolor?

Whisperain/Dusk: Oh REALLY good... I'm a sucker for the drama of reincarnation immortal/non-reincarnating immortal... @000yul's art of them has also completely sold me!! Deepcolor/Dusk: Much less interesting to me, seems like it's just 'they're both artists'. Deepcolor doesn't do much for me when taking her out of the context of the Iberia/Aegir plotline, so putting her with Dusk who's entirely unrelated doesn't work as much as Whispy/Dusk for me

[impishtubist]

AU where Harry doesn’t die at Godric’s Hollow - but Voldemort isn’t defeated, either. Sirius arrives to find Voldemort in possession of his baby godson and refusing to give him up (b/c, shit, that’s one powerful baby, and Voldy wants to harness that power!). 

No one knows that Sirius isn’t the traitor. It’s easy enough to explain to the remaining DEs - all Voldy has to say is that he’s the only one who knows that Sirius was working for him, and they’d all believe him. Voldy blackmails Sirius into playing along. He’ll keep Harry at his, idk, lair or whatever, but Sirius can also live there and raise Harry IF he goes along with the ruse that he was the Secret Keeper who betrayed the Potters and IF he allows Voldy to spirit Harry away whenever he wants to study him/his magic.

So now Sirius is pretending to be a Death Eater, has to allow the whole world (including Remus) think he’s a traitor, has to keep himself from murdering Wormtail (unless Wormy is off living as a rat somewhere??), and has to keep Harry safe while secretly trying to figure out how tf to get them out of this situation.

idk is this anything

[themidnightcircusshow]

My one snipe with Iron Widow is that it did the typical sci-fi thing of throwing the most interesting possibility in just as a random line (the aliens being the reincarnated murdered women)

[ghostradiodylan]

What if you finally got to share earbuds with your crush but the music was bad? And you were The Music Guy but you had to pretend you liked the bad music, just like you had to pretend you liked Kaylee and Caleb Hackett? Awkward.

[beastenraged]

the impossibility of swimming upstream

"I can hold a grudge if I want!" The Replica folds her arms over her chest, pouting in Luxu's direction. "You shot me! I get to hold a grudge!"

Luxu spreads his arms. "Hey, you messed up all of my plans as Xigbar, and you don't see me holding a grudge, huh?"

Frankly, he doesn't care too much about that. Ruse wasn't even really involved in messing up the original Organization XIII, not directly. And besides, the plans are working out for the better now anyway.

It's just fun to watch the young Faller puff up in agitation, in response to his nonchalance.

"But it's better now! Your plans and everything! I- I hate you so much."

"Do you?" Luxu tilts his head, genuinely curious. He's never quite managed to hate Ruse, even after the revelation how much much she knew about the Master's plan. Especially after that revelation, he'll admit, though only to himself.

It's been a long time, since the others disappeared after the original Keyblade War. They understood his jokes, his references, even if they didn't always laugh or acknowledge them.

For another Faller that understands him, to appear after so long...he wonders. An accident or a gift from his long lost Master? Does it really matter in the end?

(She's wrong about Digimon, though. Pokemon are not better than them.)

Ruse sighs, slumping onto her elbows onto the table between them. "...no. I guess not. But that doesn't mean I forgive you for the shooting part!"

"That's fine." He waves a hand, dismissing the topic the best he can. The scars on his face (Xigbar's face) itch, and he resists the urge to scratch at them.

The same urge that he sees that Ruse doesn't resist on her side, fingers tracing around the grievous remains of burns along her face.

She runs towards the reminders of her hurts, instead of leaving them in the past where they belong. Like he does.

"Sooo." The fingers of her free hand tap on her thigh. "What are we going to do about Xehanort? The Organization? How can we stop the Darkness?"

Save them, is the words she avoids using, though they both know that's what she means. That she thinks Xehanort can be stopped, brought back.

Be her friend again.

(Be Luxu's friend again. As it was as Bragi.)

She needs to let go of her dreams before they kill her.

(Like what almost happened to him, over the Dandelions.)

He leans in closer, fingers tapping out emphasis along each word he states.

"You. Can't. Save. Them."

(Love on its own has never been enough. Will never be enough.)

Red eyes narrow. "Oh yeah? Just watch me."

[currentlyonstandbi]

i know he’s faking it i KNOW he is because like 2 seconds later he gets up off the bed like it’s no big deal and nothing happens and yet every time i watch the scene where nigel’s father is threatening him and his mother with the shotgun and nigel is apparently shrinking with fear it gets to me

[nightly-ruse]

I’m sorry @spottyissleepwalking bc I know ur on a lil hiatus and this is out of nowhere and in top of that unreasonably long but I wrote PolyPO3 thing lol. It was actually just a test writing I started for my own au with Moth after Hawk’s death bc Leafpool leaves to go with Crow which hurts her a ton. But then I just started with a few cats as maybe a poly situation till I realized this is straight up ur au. Um so here sorry if it’s poorly written I’ve never posted any real writing things I’ve done:

A Dream Dappled in Light ; PolyPO3 Story Snippet

It was such a calm day, the air cool and breeze soft. The lulling sounds of the river a song to her ears. And yet a tension built in her chest like she’d scented a fox near camp. As she tilted her head up Mothwing saw the sky, bright but clouds dotted around, waiting for their chance to swoop in and cover the sun’s warm rays. These kind of days were as slippery as a pike. While they could taste great and feed everyone they could also turn and deal devastating damage to anyone around. She used to love days this nice but every sound made her mind turn and heart flutter. A belly of butterflies.

Saying that just made her taste bile. Butterflies could never be beautiful to her eyes. Not after she’d stumbled upon her brot- Hawkfrost’s corpse devoid of life covered in them. She remembered with a shudder running up and watching them all fly away to show her the stake through his chest. Ever since that day at the lake she couldn’t stomach seeing one without envisioning him.

He couldn’t hurt her anymore or anyone else. But it still stung without him. All her memories felt tainted, poison to think about. Moth just willed one day they’d go back to the nostalgia they used to be. But today wasn’t about butterflies or hawks. It was about Leafpool.

It was the dark moon. Where no light could shine through and peak at them. Leafpool told her she’d chose this night because she couldn’t stomach her ancestors watching her break the code in so many ways. Though Moth didn’t really get it she didn’t mess with it. It wasn’t her place to prod someone else for their beliefs just as it wasn’t theirs to ridicule her for not having any. Still she did find some annoyance at having to trek through the pitch black to try and find the blasted island where they’d planned to meet.

The island was rather bright with flickering fireflies across it lighting up the place. What could have been if he’d had his way, making this Riverclan’s. Her home. But that didn’t happen and it was now where all the clans would meet to share news and tales with each other.

Her pelt was dripping so she decided to sit and groom as she waited. It was only a bit before another cat pushed through the thick ferns across from her. A pure white cat with feathery fur and eyes like hail. Snowbird.

The Shadowclan molly came through and quickly met her own eyes, giving a regal nod before flicking her back foot to get a spot of mud off. Between the cats who’d all come close over a shared love for Leafpool Snowbird was her favorite. She was always very open, clear as glass, and knew how tell a snappy joke to keep the conversation smooth. While the two didn’t consider eachother mates they did have a friendly bond over the fact both held the normal Star based beliefs. And having come from outside the clans.

“Hello Mothwing. When did you get here?” The molly asked as she padded closer.

“Oh just a few minutes. It seems we’re both early as usual.” Mothwing said with a small chuckle.

“I don’t know why you ever dry your fur. It looks beautiful with water sparkling off it. Like dew in the early morning grass. Though being damp all day would be quite a pain especially with your long fur.” Snowbird said as she admired her friends golden fur. A bashful thanks was shared before they shared some small talk. Hearing the molly speak always calmed Moth down, her slightly different accent that was smooth as the calm waters was almost a lullaby to listen to. Her voice reminded Mothwing almost of her mothers though far more washed down.

The two were just talking about some feathers they’d found when the final cats pushed through the fern gate where the other three clans crossed through. A beautiful black molly with eyes like perennial blooms and crow feathers in her fluffy mane. “Nightcloud” Mothwing breathed out with a slightly flutter in her chest. While they were all close, she’d always had a small aesthetic crush on the beautiful cat. I mean how could you not? She was both sleek and fluffy with fur so dark it could blend into the night sky and eyes that blossomed from her black pelt. And her attitude definitely led to the great admiration she held for the cat, she was sassy and tough with a rough tongue and fight like a roar in her throat always there to startle those who only saw her as a pretty kitty.

Just behind her was the less favored Crowfeather. While he was quite the perfect Windclan cat with his build and looks he always was incredibly unbearable. No fancy words or much good will he always killed the feel with some ruse words. She never got what Leafpool saw in him, especially not enough to consider being real mates with. Not even friends could seem to bare his rudeness as his few ones were pretty distant from him and always finding excuses to get away from him.

At last the cat of the night pushed through. Immediately setting her heart alive. She was pretty clearly nervous as her eyes looked to the ground instead of at the cats around. It took every ounce of energy in Mothwing not to go up and comfort her but she knew this wasn’t the time. And apparently some pretty big news was to be said tonight to the cats gathered.

At last she started, though as she spoke her paws rubbed her belly softly. “Umm so hi uh all my ma-mates. I just um have some pretty big things to uh share tonight that I can’t wait to say any longer. Um uh I’m, um I’m expecting.” The last words were much quieter but still everyone heard. Mothwing didn’t even think about the cats around her as her eyes widened. Barley noticing as she got up and walked forward to hug her true love. She felt a rumble in her chest as she purred. Visions of little paws trampoline her side, claws clinging on as she ran around with the kits on her back, small fangs chomping on her tail as they grew. It was like she transferred the dreams in her head to Leaf when she looked into her green eyes as the same light she felt inside shined back. Two other cats, Snowbird and Nightcloud came and and cuddled beside them as well as all the cats discussed the idea of kits to share. That was until a rough voice called from a bit behind Mothwing.

“But who gets them? I mean they can’t just be shared equally between four clans that’s a dung lucked dream. You can’t just rotate them across borders or else they’ll never find loyalty with a group.” Crowfeather scoffed as he stared at the clump of cats, the light she felt in her heart dimming like a crushed firefly. “And Leafpool you can’t believe everyone will just agree to such a idea especially as their atleast healer born on one side, not including Mothwing. Unless you want to be scratched down to a heartthrob healer I don’t know if you can even keep them.”

Those last words felt like a scratch to her own cheek and Moth held back from leaping straight at the feather brained tom. The cat beside her didn’t have as much strength as Nightcloud jumped over her and pushed him back a bit. Clear anger in her magenta eyes. “You vulture tongued, fox hearted, half rotted corpse of a cat take that back!” She screeched with rage, like a shadow had come to life to get the cat for being so stupid with his words. And from Crow’s sharp bristling pelt she knew he’d gotten a real shake.

“Night calm down! He’s right. We can’t have the kits be lost without any loyalty and you all could loose so much from this. I know we all want them, atleast most of us-“ she whispered with a hurt look to Crowfeather “But they can’t just live their lives between all of the clans. We need to figure out how to work this out before I start showing and how we’ll explain it.”

The island was silent as they all thought but the quick scratching of claws in the dirt made head turns to the quickly moving white molly. Snowbird was scratching some idea she’d had into the dirt and they all watched with curious eyes. As she sat back and looked down at her work, clear thoughts behind her eye, she looked up at them all. “We don’t know how many will be born or the real consequences of this whole relationship will be but I personally don’t care about any issues unlike some rubbish pelt. But we could rotate the kits across the clans until they themselves choose where they’d most like to be, or if they can’t choose one find a way to have them move between clans. That way no parent is cut from the kits and they have full choice on how this works.”

As she finished the light in all their eyes form before brightened back, almost brighter then before. Hope for them all to have a paw in their first litters setting the whole cats heart ablaze. All for one. Crowfeather still sat back as if his spirit was made of ice. They all rolled their eyes as he opened his mouth to speak once again.

“Your all blind! What mole minded plan this is! Psh and having worries about any consequences isn’t gross or whatever ‘rubbish’ means Snowbird that’s just having ambition unlike the rest of you. Personally I would trade my whole future for some kits between a ton of cats who clearly care about eachother more then they do me.” He said with a icy tone, bringing his paw up to lick at the end to show he isn’t bothered by any comments. While he may not know what rubbish is both her and Snow did and it described him quite well, stinky trash he was.

“Alright Crow you can back out no one minds. The kits don’t ever have to see you as any father and none of us will mention your barley there paw in all of this. Go back to Windclan and cry about how Onestar keeps passing you up for deputy none of us like the sound of a screeching bird anyway.” Mothwing sliced with a look back at Leafpool. While she never saw what the molly ever could see in him she knew now that she definitely lost that love when he said he’d trade their kits for a higher role in the clans. None batted a eye as he puffed up his chest and walked back through the fern gate to go to Windclan. All the cats turning back to eachother to discuss any names or ideas of how to break the news, what clan they’d go to first, if they’ll come by Thunderclan to help with their litter’s birth. Talk of seeing them grow made all the cats giggle and laugh.

Mothwing hated to turn around as she saw the pinpricks of early early dawn. She felt such a push to stay beside her mates side. And she could see the same power struggle in Snow and Nights eyes. Leafpool seemed to be having a hard time pushing herself out of the cuddle pile they’d made for the night around each other. But all the cats had to go back to their clans. With licks on the ears and soft touches of the nose Mothwing turned around to swim back to camp. The whole paddle and trek back thinking of soft bundles beside her many mates bellies, kittens protected by her fur from the cold, teaching them to fish and catch fish or identify herbs. The butterflies in her belly weren’t so vile as she realized they weren’t to make her reminisce on the past but to expect the future and what it could hold. Smiling she pushed into camp as kitten played around her mind.

[we-are-ignited]

At what point will I feel human again?

I want to be good and kind and hopeful,

Please, I beckon whatever hollow gods there may be—

Empty in their solitude as I am in mine,

That is the price of divine intervention, is it not?

The throned and worshipped want to watch you beg for crumbs of what you crave.

Overlords often see not what they can do,

But what they gain

And if you are loud enough,

You will be able to hide the pleading pain.

It is hard to look at an open book and find masked meanings.

- JayLynn Fraye-Rummel

[camels-pen]

got inspired by a fic i read the other day, but didn't quite hit the right spots for me so. time to write out a new wip idea

The concept of that fic really grabbed me - Jason and Tim having a bodyswap the same day Jason wakes up in his coffin, at a point after Tim had already visited Bruce and Alfred with his insistence that Batman needed a Robin - but for what I was thinking, by the time Jason convinces Bruce and Alfred of who he is, Tim's already started to dig himself out of the coffin. And when the three of them show up at the cemetery, the grave's empty.

Tim would be catatonic and go through much of the same stuff canon Jason went through before being found and dunked in the Pit. He'd end up enduring the whole League of Assassins shtick that canon Jason went through while at the same time Jason is dealing with Tim's regular person life. Both of them struggled a bit trying to imitate the other, but they managed- Tim with not much issue considering no one in the LoA was close to Jason, and Jason trying to manage Janet Drake's clearly growing concern every time he slips up.

Like, imagine Tim, desperately trying to imitate what he knows of Jason from watching Robin on the streets and seeing Jay in a few galas here and there. And one day, Talia tries to tell him he'd been quickly replaced to get him to finally listen and Kill Somebody/accept he was staying with the League until they deemed him fit to leave.

And Tim looks at a picture of himself, hanging around the front yard of Wayne Manor with Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Another picture showing himself in an ill-fitting Robin uniform on a rooftop and seemingly getting lectured by Batman, who looms in front of him.

And he says "I'm not buyin' it."

Somehow convinces Talia that he's not convinced that the Tim in the photo (who is probably Jason and thank god, Tim was really worried about what happened to Jason's mind- or rather, his own body; he didn't actually consider Jason coming back to life until now) and she arranges a short trip for him to Gotham to see for himself.

Tim really struggles the next two days to keep up the Jason act, but he's pretty sure Talia and the others were just chalking it up to nerves at seeing his family again and the "newest addition".

When he finally gets to Gotham, he doesn't bother being stealthy. He doesn't have the skills- no matter how much Ra's and Talia's goons have been trying to beat it into him- and even if he did, he doubted he'd be able to sneak away from his own teachers that were stalking him from the shadows.

So he does his best to be casual. Walks straight towards Wayne Manor, and when he can actually start to hear his assassin stalkers the tiniest bit as he approaches the gate- a sign they're getting really restless- he decides now or never and bolts the rest of the way.

He thinks, if he had come sooner to Gotham, he would've tried fitting through the gaps in the bars- as if he was still 13 and small enough to fit- but as it is, Tim's spent 6 months in this body and he's not going to make that mistake.

Instead he slams a hand on the buzzer and says as fast as he can, "it's Tim! Tim Drake! There's assassins, open the gate!"

He has a heartstopping moment when nothing happens- when there's no answer and the ninjas are getting closer and closer and- And then it opens and Tim doesn't stop with his relief, he runs.

The door is opened not by Mr. Pennyworth, but by Bruce himself, a belt clipped around his waist, but entirely in sleepwear. He has something in his other hand and as he yells, "duck!" Tim can only think it's some kind of bomb and dives for the ground.

He was sort of right. It was a smoke bomb. He heard and smelled it hissing away behind him, and saw the cloud of smoke in his peripheral vision.

Bruce wasted no time running past him and barking, "Follow Alfred to the cave!" Tim took a moment to just breathe, feeling much more safe with Batman fighting to protect him. When Bruce looked back at him through a spot in the smoke, he yelled, "Go!"

Tim scrambled to obey, trying to run and stand and awkwardly doing both to get in the home. Mr. Pennyworth was just inside the foyer, out of sight of the windows, now that Tim noticed, and holding a shotgun.

He was also wearing a fluffy blue bathrobe and fuzzy pink bunny slippers.

Tim blinked. "Uhhh,"

"Come along, Master Tim. We must be quick."

He didn't protest and followed him down to the Cave, where Jason in Tim's body sat waiting at the Batcomputer.

Man, I'm not completely sure on the timing, but imagine Tim finally getting back into his body and it's- he's taller than he used to be, bulkier too. And there are reflexes and muscle memory stuff he doesn't remember at all, but now just has.

He- he was Robin. Or, his body at least, and he felt like it. But he never was Robin. Not really. He never got a proper outing, never even received Bruce's official approval for it.

It was strange. And not totally a good strange.

He thought about the body he had. He didn't have a lot of love for it- puberty would do that to anyone- but it was his. And that saying about not knowing what you have until you lose it? Yeah.

Tim felt like crying.

[shoechoe]

to be honest I think Toru could've been a great villain but he falls flat because the entirety of Jojolion's end was such a clusterfuck

[transprince]

I have. This lighthousekeeper oc i want to talk about. He's quiet. In his 40s. He never leaves the lighthouse, or the cabin attached. People bring him groceries, rarely. Its a big deal if you get picked to be his assistant, since the island requires boats to get back safely. Assistants dont leave the light house ever again. If you enter the lighthouse, everything is dim. And damp. The humidity is surely from the seaside. He won't shake your hand. Have you seen his eyes? His face? Surely you have. He's polite. Quiet. Says his assistant is watching the light. You don't hear the motor running up above.

[newfeeling77]

all my coworkers are getting sick n no one gives a proper fuck so im definitely going to catch something and i’ve already lied about being sick twice this past month i cant miss class again bc im actually sick.

[ac-liveblogs]

Sumeru: King Deshret and the 3 Magi

where to fuckin start with this one

Okay, I liked that we opened this act on the decision to psychologically torment Setaria into working with us because we needed an In with the Akademiya by pretending to be the envoys of King Deshret... only for it to turn out that Cyno, an In with the Akademiya, exiled himself (off-screen) because he couldn’t agree with what they were doing (which he discovered off-screen). I wonder. If we could have. Connected these things more efficiently. Somehow.

On that note, Genshin really wants us to know Cyno is scary, but never actually shows him doing anything particularly intimidating besides crossing his arms menacingly and smacking swords with Alhaitham. It also wants us to know what a big deal it is that he left the Akademiya. If Cyno had been, say, an enemy in 3.0 that turned his back on the Akademiya to work with us in 3.1, that might have worked better. 

Also, we psychologically tormented Setaria??? 

How did the traveller know Dottore was No. 2 of the Fatui Harbingers. Did they read the floating text. Is that an actual thing. Is that how they also know who ~the Balladeer is.

Also, if Nahida is going to heroically sacrifice herself so we can escape brainwashed citizens, at least make them attack us? They were just yelling how cool we were, christ. 

I have a dream. And that dream is that one day... Scaramouche’s lore and motivations will be exposited when the actual Scaramouche is in a 50metre radius of the Traveller. I guess it’s 2% better than usual that Scaramouche voice acted it this time, but “inhaled hallucination smoke and got Balladeer lore” is the worst way we’ve gotten it so far.

I also like the flashback characters that had physical resemblances to Kazuha. I also like that we’re still hyping the Scaramouche/Kazuha connection when they’ve never met. 

Also you need to understand I don’t give a shit. I don’t know Scaramouche. I’ve barely met him. I think he’s been on-screen for a collective 3 minutes total. The patchwork god deal is conceptually very cool, but the execution is absolute dogshit. Hopefully Dottore will be handled better (I’m a lot more interested in him than the others) but dear god the fatui’s showcase up until this point has been abysmal.  

Alhaitham is actually being minutely shady now, and the fact that he’s turned into a massive bitch between patches (+his arguments with Cyno) make him a more enjoyable character to me. 

Candace on the other hand felt very tacked on. I think her only real notable contribution was her telling off the Eremites that kidnapped the Mad Scholars for not thinking of the consequences of their actions... which. Well. Bad Rebels Rebelled The Wrong Way Against An Oppressive Regime And Now They’re The Bad Guys sure is a trope that exists, don’t it. 

Whatever Candace and Cyno’s connections to King Deshret were probably should’ve at least been mentioned here. Cyno staring meaningfully up at the priest’s grave after the flashback... I would like to know the significance of them both having the Anubis Headdress? Without reading The Lore? 

in absence of more information i choose to believe cyno’s thought process was ‘aww shit yeah that guy had SUCH a bitchin hat’ 

God, the Deshret lore dump....

Rukkhadevata Did Nothing Wrong And This Upturns My Entire Belief System However Will I Cope-

. . . . .

Ok i am over it now let’s be friends and also allies

i mean, i guess that’s a way to resolve a conflict. technically.

Like, the pieces are here for a more interesting and coherent story than Inazuma’s. It’s just. The character writing. Ghhhhhhhh-

wait wasn’t cyno supposed to tell bad jokes? what happened to that