#this is 100% about TROD

[pocket-goat]

you ever read a fanfiction SO good and perfectly in character that you just can't read anything else now. like this is peak where do i go from here.

[bamsara]

What do you find it harder to make ? Drawing comic/painting about TROD or writing it ? 🤔

Writing it 100%, but drawing the scenes help with making visuals in my head for the words

But also I hate art so drawing it too lmaoo

[the-moth-archives]

☾My Personal Moon Knight System HCs☾

Type: fluff - small hurt comfort with Marcs'

Word Count: 1187

Notes: hello !! I didn't really proof read this so there might be some errors. im also not 100% familiar with Jake's character so he might be a little ooc and I apologize for that. I tried to keep this as gender neutral and body neutral as possible. I'm also going to try a new aesthetic for my Moon Knight stuff :)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Steven

he walks around with dinosaur arms and only puts them down when someone points it out. but there was one time when you pointed it out and he tried to put his hands down but you stopped him, saying it was cute. that sealed the deal with him feeling 100% comfortable with you

sometimes he wakes you up in the middle of the night to ramble about a book he’s been reading 

“hey love, got a minute?” you jumped awake and hummed as he plopped down next to you, book in hand. as he began to ramble, you stayed awake for a little bit, silently listening until he felt your head slump on his shoulder. he still continued to whisper about what he learned as you softly snored, body weight almost complete dead-weighted onto his side. he’d just have to fill you in when you wake up.

if you get off work before him, you’d stop by the museum gift shop just to say hi to him. you can physically see his face brighten when you walk in. he trods over to you to say hello and you two walk around the gift shop, pretending that Steven is helping you find something. but in reality, you’re just chatting about your day and planning for dinner.

if he gets off before you, he also visits you,, or tries to. depending on where you work, it can become hard for him to go in and see you so he’ll sometimes text you that he’s outside for you to look out the window and see him OR go outside to be with him. sometimes he likes to come to your work right before you’re about to leave just so you can both walk together and take the bus back to your shared apartment.

he likes to sleep on top of you in some way. sometimes he likes to lay on top of you when you’re on your stomach and sometimes he likes to lay on your chest. he can either to half of his body laying on your or full body (he prefers full body but he doesn’t mind if you can’t handle it ! he wants his partner to be very comfortable) think of it as you being his personal teddy bear.

pls play with his hair. or just touch him in general. he would literally bend over backwards for you if you promise to comb your fingers through his hair or rub his face/back/literally anywhere on him. when you play with his hair, his grip on you gets tighter as he looks up at you with a love drunk expression. please just touch him, he’ll love you forever.

his love language is acts of service. when you’re not feeling good, mentally or physically, he’s always up and ready to help you. he makes soup for you, gets you flowers and puts them next to the bed, always watches over you and snuggles with you when asked. 

Marc

in the beginning, he’s very standoff-ish. he’s mostly just scared of getting hurt again or messing up and making you angry. but there’s one night where he catches himself feeling very vulnerable around you and ends up breaking down to you. you say nothing and just hold him for however long he needs you. that was his own “sealed the deal” with you

sometimes he has very bad nightmares or vivid flashbacks where he would jolt up and gasp really loudly. sometimes you’ll wake up and hold him close, shushing him back to sleep. you also gave him the ok to wake you up if he ever needs you during the night. he still feels guilty but you always wake up with a sympathetic smile and a warm embrace 

he falls asleep during movies, even if he picks them out. you’d be knees deep into a thriller movie and you’ll get spookie a by his head connecting with your shoulder. you laugh and wake him up if the movie is important to you or if it’s a movie you’ve both wanted to see for a while now. but most of the time, you let him sleep through the rest of the movie and fill him in on what he missed

in the beginning, he was firm on being the big spoon but as time when on, he’d start asking you to spoon him until it became your default position. he only ever becomes the big spoon when you ask him to or you had a bad day.

another touch starved alter, please touch him. he will cry. the first time you actually hugged him, he felt like he was going to sob violently. sometimes he does cry when you hug him or just hold onto him in some way. you’re so gentle to him, he’s never experienced this and wants to bathe in that feeling. please let him be selfish with your touch.

his love language is quality time. he’s attached at the hip with you. wherever you are, he’s also there. Steven and Marc switch off times when sitting in the shower with you. you’d be in the water while they sit outside and talk about either of their days. once you’re done, he gets in the shower and you go on about your day while you dry off and do your nightly routine. if you don’t have a nightly routine, you’ll just sit on the floor where he was previously.

Jake

VERY protective. once he gets to know you and gets used to your existence, as you do with his, he becomes very protective and watches over you like a hawk. if he sees any small bruise or cut on you, he’s gonna play 20 questions with you so be ready.

he likes when you rest your head on his chest or just lay on him period. it makes he feel strong and like he’s succeeding in keeping you safe and loved. he always, ALWAYS, wants you to feel safe with him and to be comfortable around him. he’s a guy with a rough shell and seeing how much Steven and Marc adore you, he wants to keep you there not just for himself but for the other two.

for any special event or holiday, he loves to get you flowers with a small little card, telling you how much he loves you. the cards are usually in Spanish! 

he’s love language is gift giving. anytime he’s out and about, he likes to buy small trinkets that remind him of you and gift them to you when he gets back. you have a whole collection of random keychains hanging on the wall and a small box filled with silly things he’s picked up for you.

yes he does the Gomez thing where he kisses up your arm.

he’s always gotta be touching you. hand around your waist, in your butt pocket, hand in hand, hand on your shoulder, hand resting on your thigh as he drives, etc etc. he will die if he can’t touch you. (pls just touch all of the alters, they’ll never leave you)

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : BF!Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; no childbirth (yet?) ; mention of an abortion ; Felix is a POS ; angst no fluff ; Word Count : 2.5k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : can I get an angsty felix request diff from his pregnancy series wherein felix is an absolute fucking asshole and left the reader when he found out they were pregnant, u decide what happens next surprise me AN : I hope that you are thoroughly surprised by this, I hate making him the asshole honestly, but at the same time I absolutely love it!! I just love writing stuff like this!! I hope you love this girlie, this is for you!

Double pink lines showed on all six white tests that were evenly spaced along the bathroom counter. They were dark, they were undeniable, not a single discrepancy is any of them. It was a fact now… You were pregnant, and your boyfriend… he was on tour, for the next three months. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell him, it was quite the opposite actually. You wanted him to know, but he was such a sweetheart, he cared about you so much, you knew that if you told him during the tour, he’d drop everything just to come home and be with you. It was the early stages of your pregnancy, and you knew that for now, you’d be able to handle whatever was thrown your way, whether it be symptoms or doctors appointments. It was easier to hide right now too, you didn’t have to worry about him catching on. If he questioned why you hid it from him, your main reason was that you weren’t sure if the pregnancy was 100% yet. The first 12 weeks were the scariest and the most uncertain, and you didn’t want him or yourself to get too excited, especially if it ended in a miscarriage. It was a valid reason, and it had you keeping your mouth shut until he came through the front door. 

Unexpected and unplanned was the announcement at your 12 week ultrasound, that not only were you pregnant, but you were having twins. Two babies, and you rightfully panicked for a second because that was… It wasn’t planned to even get pregnant with one, let alone two, but you knew that with Felix by your side, you’d be able to get through it. He was the ray of sunshine that you held tightly onto whenever things seemed to be a little too hectic, or when things started to feel like a little too much. 

As the weeks passed on though, you started to just… Get used to the fact that you were carrying two children, and maybe it was a maternal instinct, maybe it was the fact that they were his children, or maybe it was a bit of both that had you growing excited even at the thought of having this little family with him. You couldn’t wait to tell Felix, you couldn’t wait to officially start this journey into parenthood with him by your side. It would only be a couple more days until he came back home, and now you were giddily counting down the days to tell him the exciting news. 

“I think we caught every single red light on the way here.” Felix exclaimed as he trodded through the front door, his suitcases parked off to the side as he kicked off his shoes. “Hey, angel… You look beautiful as always. Did ya miss me?” He asked, the irritation that had initially coated his words seemed to be shaken off as soon as he laid eyes on you sitting on the couch. Your smile was bright as you watched him, anticipation building in your stomach and sending a shiver through you. 

“Of course I did. I always miss you.” You chimed from the couch, making sure to keep yourself covered with the thick throw blanket so that he wouldn’t see your stomach. It had grown quite a lot already, something that was both shocking, but also expected considering you were having twins. “How was the flight?” You wanted to make small talk, just so he could get settled back in before you dropped the news on him, although you were quite certain he’d take it well, you just didn’t want to shock him immediately. 

He rolled his shoulders and his neck, stretching his arms up as he walked into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge to grab a bottle of water before making his way to the couch to drop down beside you. “It was good, not as comfortable as being able to sit or lay beside you, but it was bearable. Changbin didn’t snore too loud behind me, so I got a good amount of sleep so I’d be well rested when I got home to you.” His arm draped over your shoulder as he leaned against you. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.” 

Now was your chance, he was in a good mood, he was rested, he was close to you, now all you had to do was tell him. “I couldn’t wait to see you either… I’ve got some pretty big news to tell you.” Even though you were almost 100% certain that he’d take it well, you couldn’t help the jitters that coursed through your body causing your voice to tremble with your nerves. His eyes widened as well as his smile, his body turning almost completely to give you his full attention before nodding to you to tell you to continue. “I’m… I’m pregnant! They're twins!” 

And while your excitement seemed to grow exponentially from telling him, his dwindled to nothing almost immediately. His smile fell and his eyes wavered, his hands pulling away from yours to fold in his lap. “You’re… Sure about this? You’ve… You’ve been to the doctors and everything for it?” He questioned, and maybe he was just nervous about getting excited too soon, so you quickly nodded, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of reassurance that everything would be okay, that everything was okay, but he moved his hands away from yours, shoving them in his pockets as he jumped up off the couch. “How far along are you?” He blurted out quite harshly, and while you were used to him apologizing almost immediately after sounding so rude, the apology never came. 

“I’m… Almost four months…” You whispered, slowly pulling back the blanket to show him the swell of your stomach, and you saw his chest rise, puffing out with the large breath that he took in. “It’s okay though… They’re okay, they’re healthy.” You once again tried to reassure him, assuming that his panic was caused by not being there when you found out. 

“I don’t care about that! I’ve got five months to figure out how the hell I’m going to juggle my job and paying child support to not just one, but two fucking kids!” He rambled, but the mention of child support had your head tilting to the side, your lips parting to question what he meant, but you couldn’t seem to find the words. “Don’t look at me like that… You know that I can’t do this. I’m too fucking young to deal with my job and two fucking kids. I didn’t want this… You threw this on me!” 

With every single word, it was like a vicious attack, and that beautiful future that you had spent the past couple weeks imagining started to spin, like a tornado, the images a whirling vortex that were sent down the drain. “I thought… I thought that you’d be happy. You always talked about having a life together… Spending forever together… Where did that go?” The sight of him rolling his eyes had your stomach tightening and your nerves kicking into overdrive. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go… This wasn’t what you had planned on at all. “I-I.. I didn’t want this either… I’m young too…” 

He scoffed, his nose crinkled into a look of disgust as his eyes flickered down to your stomach and then up to your face. “I didn’t ask you to keep them. If you would have told me sooner, I would have told you to abort it, get rid of it.” It was like a stab, a gunshot, there was bile rising in your throat at the thought of getting rid of the two little beans that had become such a big part of you, you honestly couldn’t imagine not having them in your tummy. “And don’t even try to make it seem like I’m the bad guy in this. You sprung this shit on me as soon as I got back from a fucking tour… That should have been your first sign. I mean, what did you think would happen? Everything would be sunshine and rainbows and I’d be this happy go lucky guy somehow maintaining a career where I’m constantly in the fucking spotlight, during brand sponsorships and bunch of other shit… And you just… You expect me to have time for you? For children? You’ve gotta be out of your mind.” 

And maybe you were, maybe you had lost sense of the reality of your relationship and how hard it was to actually see him, how little you spent time with him. Maybe you really were out of your mind as he had said, thinking that being pregnant would somehow bring him closer to you instead of pushing him away. “I wasn’t going to do that…” You mumbled, your hand moving down to rub over your stomach, seeming to be your own source of comfort now that Felix was clearly disgusted by you. “You don’t have to worry about anything… You don’t even have to pay child support. You’re right… I sprung this on you and… You obviously don’t want any parts of it. I’m not going to force you…” 

Letting out a humorless chuckle, he folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at you. “Oh, sure. You say that, but once it gets to be too much for you, you’ll be trying to take me to court. It’ll make front page news online and then you’ll get the pity party. I can see it now.” It was pretty eye opening to see now just how lowly he thought of you. You had been blinded by the rays of sunshine that seemed to radiate off of him whenever he was around, but it was like you had put on sunglasses, you could block those out, and now you could see who he truly was. 

“I’m not taking you to court.” You snapped, having enough of him being not just an asshole, but ruthlessly so. “You’re not the man that I thought you were, and you’re definitely not the man that I want in my children’s lives, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to force you to do anything or asking for your money. I don’t want your money, because like you said, I can see it now. All of the fans that follow you like you’re some kind of fucking god will call me a gold digger and a bunch of other awful shit, and to be quite honest, I don’t need that and neither do my kids. So once you walk out of that door, I’m done. I’m done with you and everything that has to do with you. The only part of you that I love now are the children that you gave me, the children that you don’t want.” 

Your entire body was trembling, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. They weren’t tears of sadness though, they were tears of anger, unable to hold back the burst of emotions that coursed through you, and unable to channel them properly. “Promise?” He snidely cracked back at you, and it was the final nail in the coffin. He wasn’t who you thought he was at all, he was nothing like the way his fans portrayed him. It was all an act, and the character that he had been playing as was gone now, revealing the true Felix that you had mistakenly fallen in love with. 

“Promise.” You retorted flatly, finally pushing yourself up off the couch and walking to the door, and with your back turned to him, you hadn’t caught the way he his jaw had dropped when finally seeing you fully, you hadn’t caught the way his fingers twitched to reach out to grab you, the way his eyes blinked a few times to snap him back to reality just a little too late. “I’ll pack your stuff up and leave it on the porch, I’ll text you when I’m all done, and then I’ll block your number and delete it so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you. You can move on with your life and your career.” You said as you grabbed the suitcases and wheeled them to the center of the entryway. “You already have some of your stuff to leave with.” You pulled open the front door, moving over to the side to give him room to walk out. “Bye.” 

The damage was already done, and it’s not like you’d believe him or even be willing to listen if he tried to go back on his words right now, so he kept up with the act, sneering at you as he grabbed his luggage and wheeled it out the front door, stepping out onto the porch. Maybe if he turned around one last time and you saw the look of regret in his eyes you’d let him talk, but the door was already being slammed shut, and the locks clicked, and he knew that you were probably already breaking down on the couch, a complete mess because of what he had said. 

There was nothing he could do now except trudge over to the side of the road, his phone gripped tightly in his shaking hands as he texted his leader, asking to be picked up. Twins… he wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t in the right place in his life to take on that kind of responsibility… But he hadn’t even given himself a chance to try. He immediately attacked you, and maybe it was the jet lag or the stress from just coming back home and simply wanting to enjoy one evening without having something else to worry about… But none of those things were truly an excuse for what he had said or the way he behaved because you were surely more stressed than him, and now that stress had quadrupled all because of him. 

Twins… Two children, his own children, little drops of sun that were part him, and part you. You, the only person who he ever loved before, the only person he could ever see himself loving… And he ruined it. A family, one that he’d never get to spend time with, that he had so easily given up on as if it wasn’t important at all. Sons… Daughters… Maybe one of each… He’d never get to meet them though. He’d never get to experience that feeling of holding his children for the first time or watching them take their first steps. He’d never feel that excitement as he bore witness to each and every milestone. He gave all of that up the second he started his rant, the second those thoughts weasel’d their way into his mind and were actually spoken. Maybe he’d watch from a distance, living the life that he turned his back on through pictures or videos that you hopefully might post online. It wouldn’t be the same… But it was all he would have, all he would ever have. 

Permanent TL : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me

@mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc

[fistfuloflightning]

So like, I don't know if WangXian is something you vibe with, but after seeing the way you draw Jiang Cheng I NEEDED to try and see these two in your style. 😭😭

I'm a sucker for awkward teenagers, no matter how painfully realistic—Wei Wuxian teasing Lan Zhan with his not-quite-stubble and baby first's acne? I'll eat it up! Lan Wangji being too self-aware about his growth spurts and keeping quiet so Wei Ying won't hear his voice crack? More please!

Anyways, I know this is an odd request, so thanks for letting me ramble. Even if it is too out of whack for you to actually draw (which is totally understandable), I appreciate you taking the time to read it. ❤️ Keep up the good work!

I think Wangxian is cute. But probably why it’s not really in my ship list is because there’s already sooooo much content out there, it’s incredibly popular and the ground is well-trod. I generally gravitate towards ships/fandom corners where I can hear myself think and where I can actually get to know my fellow shippers (and sometimes it’s just me creating a ship out of thin air ruoqing).

I personally believe lwj probably picked up a few cultivation tips and tricks from his older brother to manage some of the less fun aspects of adolescence. But 100% the rest of the gangly awkwardness and the voice cracking 😆 the TRUE reason lwj just never said much!

Don’t be shy, I love having people ramble at me! And more often than not I just ramble back 😊 

[king--of--ducks]

Not to trod on Charlie's toes, but my dad passed away irl, and I could really use a hug from Hell's Greatest Dad. Could I? (Mod, you're doing amazing work and have actually been a great source of comfort in this really difficult time. Keep up the good work.)

🍎Aw, that’s sucks, I’m sorry you’re going through that. Of course you can get a hug, bring it in.🍎

OOC:Thanks man, sorry about your dad. I remember the first time I lost a loved one, I just dove into cartoons. Not a healthy coping mechanism I’m sure, but I feel whatever helps helps! I’m not gonna say you’re ever gonna feel 100% better, but with time it does tend to get easier. If you need someone to talk to, feel free to message me.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Abbey Grange pt 3

I'm fairly confident I've pieced this one together correctly. I'm a little annoyed that it appears that Lady Brackenhall didn't do it herself, but I suppose I'll allow it. I feel confident that she could have done it herself, though, had the narrative allowed her to.

...our door was opened to admit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it. He was a very tall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, with a skin which had been burned by tropical suns, and a springy step which showed that the huge frame was as active as it was strong.

I stg, every time Watson describes someone in this story he gets hornier. 'As fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it.' Put your tongue back in your mouth.

He's looking respectfully.

I've always thought that how horny literally every version of Watson seems to be was just exaggerated, but no. Reading/rereading these as an adult shows me that Watson is exactly that horny on main.

And by 'on main' I mean 'in a widely distributed publication'.

"I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straight I'll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out of my hands for ever.” The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his great, sun-burned hand. “I'll chance it,” he cried. “I believe you are a man of your word, and a white man, and I'll tell you the whole story."

First, the captain's kinda racist, I guess.

Second, this is an exact template of what not to do when being interviewed regarding a crime you have committed. Never believe that they know everything. Never agree to tell them anything. Say nothing.

Captain Croker is kind of an idiot.

But then, given the racism, we already knew that.

"So far as I am concerned I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and I would do it all again and be proud of the job."

This is also exactly what you should not say in this situation. He's just determined to be a waking talking exemplar of what not to do, I guess. And he's doing a great job of it.

"...many a time since have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it."

That seems unsanitary. Sir, please desist.

Is this why they transferred you to another ship? So people would stop coming across you licking the deck? People walk on that. Sir. Sir, please.

This is yet another example of things you shouldn't do. Just in case you were wondering.

If you want to kiss her feet and you're both into that, go for it. But don't just, like... kiss the dirty deck of a ship where hundreds of people have walked because she walked there. Not only is it unhygienic, it's kind of stalkery.

Yeah.... no.

This guy is giving unhinged vibes.

"One day out in a country lane I met Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told me about her, about him, about everything."

Theresa 100% knew what she was doing here. There is no way she looked at this guy literally kissing the ground Mary walked on and didn't realise that he would be down to murder. Theresa wins the prize here. Excellently executed. Get the dumb stalker to kill the abusive husband. A+ work. She deserves a raise.

"This drunken hound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her whose boots he was not worthy to lick!"

Was not expecting to tick off 'foot fetish' on my Sherlock Holmes bingo card, but there we go.

"Theresa was always my friend, for she loved Mary and hated this villain almost as much as I did. From her I learned the ways of the house."

My dude, my dude. Theresa fucking played you.

"At first she would not open to me, but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and she could not leave me in the frosty night."

That's a really quick turn around from 'it was only friendship for her and I was happy with it' to 'I know she loves me now'.

"Theresa was as cool as ice, and it was her plot as much as mine."

It was all her plan. I bet she made sure the husband was awake at the right time.

"...since she was trying hard to shield him and so showing that she loved him."

Really? Was she though?

"See here, Captain Croker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who was more eminently fitted to represent one."

I guess Watson has enough horniness in him for 12 people.

I mean, I don't have a problem with the guy being allowed to go free, the victim literally burned a puppy alive. Also, I'm pretty sure he was manipulated into being there at the right time. Because there's no way a maid who has been frequently mentioned to be really good at her job, just blurts out her mistress's private business to a guy they met on a boat in the middle of the road. She knew what she was doing. And the husband just happened to come along?

"Come back to this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in the judgment which we have pronounced this night.”

I note that this is as much of a 'happily ever after' as we get for this story. I choose to believe Mary had already moved on in a year and had given up the pretence of being in love with him.

But I am cynical, as we have previously discussed.

[1oddboi1]

I've put off posting another wall of text about writing because I felt like I'd been doing it too much, but at this point it's kinda just a personal journal of the process so I'm gonna keep doing it.

I started writing chapter two with a couple of "big scenes" in mind, but I'm running into the issue of like 4 of them being back to back. Another problem that I'm having is the fact that in the doc chapter one ends on page 7... I'm not done writing, and I'm on page 22. I'm either gonna have to break it up into multiple chapters or cut out some stuff. Back to the point, I think I just haven't read enough stuff like this to know what the fluff to action ratio should be. I've only really read The Rehabilitation of Death, which is a big inspiration for me even doing this. The problem with that is that it's told in a different way than what I'm writing. Trod is third person omniscient (I'm pretty sure), so it can go from what the lamb is doing, to what narinder is doing, sometimes even what the flock is doing. I'm doing 3rd person limited, so I can only follow Brear and describe things that he sees/knows about. Because of this, I've run into the problem of cult life being really repetitive, they wake up, work, eat lunch, do whatever for a bit, eat dinner, go to bed, repeat. I have a plan to change it in the future, but as it stands, the pacing is weird, at least to me. The original plan for chapter two was for it to take place over a 3 day period. The way it's written now has almost nothing happen the first day, which is fine. He has to get settled in, get a job, meet people, etc. I'm fine with all that, it's the second day that is the problem. Basically, everything big happens that day, and yet the boring repetition is still an issue. I haven't gotten to the third day yet, I think I have a plan, but I'm not 100% sure yet. Maybe I need to step away from it for like a day and come back with fresh eyes. Maybe the repetition thing is only a problem because I've been thinking about it for a few days and not because it's a problem in the writing. I'll do that tomorrow. Maybe I'll read something, idk.

[axl-ul]

Flickering Lights Always Watch Those Who Are About to Drown

(A short story as a small thank you and a celebration for 100 followers which happened some while ago. I know, I'm late, hehe. Again, thanks a lot!)

Ulfrika slowly made her way through the narrow street filled with litter and flickering street lamps. The old newspapers, used napkins, even reeking clothes not only constantly posed themselves in the doctor’s way, they also gave the street its distinct smell. Sour, humid, dirty. One that makes a person bend forward and throw up between the two blue garbage cans with suspicious rustling coming from inside.

Despite her narrow nose being quite proficient, she did not mind the circumstances. In fact, she came to tolerate, no, she came to respect the gloomy atmosphere of the path to her flat once her work shift at the hospital ended. Certainly, she could easily take the tram and be at home much faster. But walking was something that offered more freedom for her thoughts to rise from under the hardened crust of her mind.

The first quarter of the moon watched the concrete sentinels as the strict mask of the daytime city began to unravel in the pure chaos. Silver threads of the light equally shone on Ulfrika’s lanky shoulders and thick brown hair she let slither by the sides of her sunken cheeks. A pleasant tickling for sure. So much different from the cold freezers she worked with but still not as quite right as the fur of her loyal companion. A deep sigh. Oh, how much she missed her dearest friends!

The dry skin of her fingers easily matched the colour of the distant celestial body. Those fingers, so long and unnaturally thin, hold the cigarette firmly as if she were still wielding a scalpel instead.

She took another puff and snorted. A bad habit for a person, even worse for a doctor and yet she couldn’t bring herself to care less. After all, her only patients were corpses waiting for a trustworthy autopsy.

She thought further as she finally walked out of the uncertain shadows and quickly crossed the road before another moron didn’t stick with the speed limit.

Her lips moved in silence, all the words she thought were only painted in her deep eyes,“I suppose those cadavers have to be just as patient as I am every month so I can see my paycheck…“

Somebody honked the horn behind her back. Yet, she did not turn. Her legs were as if on an autopilot, always driving forward, never back. Shiny shop windows cast white and yellow, rarely orange, light on the pavement where her feet briskly but inaudibly trod. The further she went, new colours, signs, bars, shops, kiosks and other wonders emerged from the dull background. More and more people, demons and spirits were passing by her. The mass of strangers drowning in ecstasy of a late evening moved like a wild river.

It was all so strange, familiar, distant and close, too fast and still so slow for her to ignore. What was that ‘it’, though? She herself didn’t know the answer. The feeling, the smells mixing in the air of the colourful street, the goosebumps on her skin while the warmth underneath the long jacket with a hood persisted… Or was it the noise ringing, drumming on her eardrums, the smoke pleasantly burning her lungs, one of the few things that had made her feel something, anything, these last few months. Or was it years? Again, the doctor was unsure. Ulfrika stopped counting a long time ago.

Even though the majority of people around were heavily intoxicated, laughing and chatting or vomiting by the corner, a small crew standing by the staircase of a pub let their gaze linger on the half-breed for too long. A woman no more than twenty five narrowed her eyes and focused on Ulfrika’s distant face. Immediately, those eyes widened in horror as the woman turned to her friends. When her trembling index poked back to the spot, the pale doctor was no longer there.

Ulfrika quickened her pace and threw the dark hood over her head so the shadows could consume her once more. The gesture wasn’t done by her out of fear. Thick eyebrows furrowed, although beneath them her abysmal eyes, so deep and dark and eternal, kept their emptiness as if the outer world could not possibly penetrate the stone visage.

The day’s been hard. Too many traffic accidents have occurred lately. The memory of a proper lunch was too hazy. Her back was arched the whole time and her hands in a constant cautious motion. Not to mention all the paperwork. What was worse, the smouldering end of her cigarette is now slowly dying. Unnecessary trouble was the last thing she needed at that moment, though they were not more than flies buzzing around her ear.

At last, she saw a corner with a convenience store. The sign in the shape of a smiling cartoon dog, a colourful portrait of the owner’s pet friend, flickered then came back. Snacks and drinks were gazing into the quiet part of the quarter and also right into Ulfrika’s growling stomach.

She turned to the left around the corner and continued. The low dike with a pavement created a border between the sleepy street and a slowly flowing river. Its river bed was small, not much of a threat to the citizens. Only to the crickets on the opposite shore which were hiding in the thick bushes and whose chirps were on par with the river’s humming. The waves licked the protruding stones and rocks, the water teeth bit into the floating logs and twigs.

The strange cradle created by the nearby nature as well as the city rocked Ulfrika’s sleepy mind. The doctor was adamant to reach her home, her bed with a simple pillow where her pets would snuggle close to her side. Brisk steps went quicker and quicker. Her inhales were deep and exhales powerful. Small clouds of breathed out autumn air surrounded her nose.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks. Her ears pricked up.

A whimper. A weak, silent whimper carried by the soft breeze. It sounded sorrowful, frightened. But where was the source of it?

Ulfrika followed the sound. In a matter of a few minutes she noticed a small paper box from shoes stuck in the shallow waters as she leaned over the old handrail, its metal surface matching the coldness of her own skin upon the touch. She put down her hood and listened further. Truly, the drenched box was making those noises. Or whatever that was inside.

She had a guess, though.

She hung her warm jacket over the metal tube with a flaked colour and jumped over the barrier. Carefully sliding down the hill, Ulfrika landed right beside the rock formation. The cardboard box was now floating in the cold water only a short distance away. A distance she could easily overcome by four long steps.

The street lamp’s light didn’t quite reach her but the moon was bright, the sky cloudless and her sight eerily sharp. Ulfrika carefully entered the cold stream. Her steps were slow as she didn’t wish to experience a hard fall on the slippery surface. Only when she was waist deep in the freezing stream did she manage to reach her goal. Picking up the item, she smelt it while returning to the shore. Wet fur.

Long nails found no obstacle in the duct tape around. She ripped open the upper part and curiously peeked inside.

In the corner, a tiny shivering and yowling puppy was looking back at her. Its fearful dark eyes were gazing up from under the large floppy ears. The muzzle was covered in deep scars, the upper lip carried a deep cut which revealed a set of teeth and swollen gums. There were several places on the pup’s neck where its caramel brown fur was missing. The black back was no different with the bald spots and the lifted paw marked a rough fate as well.

“Poor baby…“ Ulfrika sighed as her brows furrowed all the while a web of wrinkles emerged on her pale forehead.

The little puppy whined once again, demanding safety far away from the cold flowing abyss where it had been thrown.

“Let’s get you out of here, alright?“ She slowly returned to the shore and climbed up. Finally, after reaching a safe spot under the white light of the street lamp, she carefully took out the puppy. At first, the defenceless creature snapped its miniature jaw in hopes of biting the doctor. Ulfrika didn’t mind though. The only thing she dropped was the old cardboard. Her deep soothing voice reached out,“Hush, little one. You’re safe now. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. But you just need to trust me a bit. I understand it’s a tough decision. But you have to try. Can you do that?“

The dog in her hand went silent and tilted the head as if it really understood the gentle words, although there was always the mark of undying untrust in the creature’s look.

The doctor wrapped the puppy in her jacket and approached the nearby convenience store while the wind rose up and harshly hit her from behind. Dark hair floated as the whipping tongues of the autumn glided by her. Her head resembled a wretched beast from the darkest abyss.

Clink! The cracked door opened, though the hinges creaked and squeaked. The wind fought its way inside, too. The force of it made the several hanging posters swing, but fortunately it wasn’t strong enough and everything stayed at its place once the doctor slammed the door behind.

Many of the items in the six thickly supplied rows shook from the impact. The glass bottles and cans clinked against the hardwood. A few plastic toys even fell to the ground, though they didn’t break. 

The sound and the sudden chill made the tiny sleeping man with thick glasses jump in his high seat behind the counter. Soon, his eyes brightened up. “Doc! Thought you ain’t coming tonight. The usual stuff? Or you finally quit the cigs?“

“I wish you a good evening, as well, friend,“ the woman bowed her head while a faint hint of a smile crossed her face. “No, I still haven’t lost interest. Yet, tonight I’m going to need some dog treats. Preferably, something really tasty. Do you happen to have some, please?“

He laughed,“Don’t tell me you’re going to spoil your dog…“

“A wolf.“

“...a wolf sooner this month. Did she learn how to speak?“

“Not yet, Mr Moore. I need them for this little silly.“ She carefully showed the old man the found puppy in her arms. The cub was beginning to doze off, however, the lamp with its orange light woke up the little one.

“What an adorable find! Even cuter than our Jimmy! Too bad the scars are so deep. Whoever was the owner had to be one terrible son of a bitch, let me tell you that.“ The man’s round cheeks puffed like pillows while he admired the creature. His sausage-like fingers went to pet the little head but he quickly retracted as the dog barked. Of course, the tremble from cold, poor treatment as well as the young age didn’t make the puppy the most dangerous looking. Mr Moore, a simple man with hair as white as snow and a warm heart, encouraged the puppy’s confidence and played along. “What a fierce guy! Once he grows up, he’ll make a terrific companion!“

“Mr Moore, please, could you find those treats? Tiru and Krabat are waiting at home for me.“ Her deep voice bounced against the cracked walls. No harshness or impatience was there. Only concern and fatigue.

“Oh, sure thing, doc!“ His short legs began to move and within a few seconds he vanished behind a thick purple curtain in the back of the room. Unlike his physical presence, his chatty personality didn’t go away. “Tiru and Krabat… Doc, I always wanted to ask ya this. How in the hell did you name those pets?! The strangest names I’ve ever heard, ain’t gonna lie to you,“ he screamed.

“Old tradition, sir. Nothing more.“

“You sure? Just like keeping a wolf and a raven? I’d expect a hamster or a turtle. Though, these guys suit your style more, I guess.“

“Excuse me, Mr Moore?“

“Oh, don’t mind me!“ The old man heartily laughed. “So, are ya keeping the little guy?“

“I’m not so sure. Would you be interested in the adoption, sir? Jimmy could use some friend now.“ Ulfrika tapped her chin. Something was missing in that eerily quiet environment. Then,it hit her. “May I ask? Where’s Jimmy?“ She looked around in hopes to find a joyful drooling head of a bulldog.

“The poor bastard’s with my wife upstairs. She hasn’t been feeling well so he sticks around. What can I add? This bloody weather ain’t good for anyone.“

“Sure. As you say.“ Ulfrika once again politely bowed, the thin but numerous strands of hair slipped to her almost black eyes.

A box of dog treats landed on the green counter. “Here you go, youngster. It’ll be…“ Mr Moore widened his eyes when thirty dollars landed beside the box.

“Please, keep the change, Mr Moore. If I may ask, please, say hello to Mrs Moore and Jimmy. I wish you a nice evening.“

“Miss Výtaušeimová! This is too much! I can’t let you go off easily!“

The gaunt doctor stopped in front of the door - a puppy in one hand, a colourful box under the other armpit. “I said keep the change, sir.“

“I…thank you, doc.“

“No. I thank you, Mr Moore. Good night.“

Checking the late night hour at the old-fashioned wall clock, she was prepared to open the door with her elbow when the shop owner called behind her for the last time. “By the way, there was a strange guy today. He didn’t buy anything. Just went straight to me and asked about you.“

“Name?“

“Said no actual name. Just that he’s your neighbour and didn’t manage to catch up to you in the morning.“

“What did he look like?“

“Sorry, doc,“ Mr Moore shrugged and pouted,“he was wearing a hoodie and kept his face down. I couldn’t see an inch of his face. But he sounded young. The youngster could be no more than eighteen or twenty. But that’s just a guess.“

“Anything else?“

“Just that he’ll try to wait for you here tomorrow in case he misses you again.“

Ulfrika paused in thought. Soon, she bowed her head and a low grunt escaped from her throat once the rabid wind hit her face.

The puppy was whining the whole way and Ulfrika did her best to soothe him. It’s been a long while since she was taking care of someone.

As if it weren’t enough, a downpour visited the dirty city for the fourth time that week. Water from deep puddles splashed around whenever a car or a bike passed by. By the end of their common way, Ulfrika’s jeans were soaking wet. Strangely, she didn’t utter a word nor did she make a sound. The only time an eerie mix of hiss and growl spread around was when her keys stuck in the damaged door. Under her shallow breath, she spat curses on the caretaker.

When she finally barged in, she gave the miniature unkempt entrance room a meaningful look. There, in the dark corner, hiding by the large leaves of a dried palm, was a lanky man in his forties sleeping tightly on a chair. Another wooden chair was just by his right with an ashtray and a dying out cigarette stuck in one of its grooves. An empty bottle was rolling beneath it.

Upon such a disappointing view, Ulfrika puffed out her chest and ran her hand through the ruffled hair.

“I wish you a pleasant evening, sir,“ she uttered in a low voice as she made her way to the rusted lift cage of an elevator. Though she didn’t scream, it was still enough to yank the caretaker from his slumber.

“Miss Výtaušeimová, you didn’t pay your rent again.“

“Are you sure, sir?“ The only feature which changed on her poker face was a raised left eyebrow. Still, she didn’t offer him a single look and kept on waiting for the lift while showing the man her lean back.

“Yeah, I’m.“

“Then check your records because I paid in advance. Again.“ Only then she turned around in the rhythm of the thrumming machine. The slow motion of her body as well as her deep ice-cold voice made the man lose his frown and calmly walk to the nearby stall. He took out the book from the small safe and checked. After a small hesitation, he looked back with uncertainty painted in his suddenly pale face. “Sure, Miss. Everything’s alright. By the way, I wanted to tell you that a young boy-“ He furrowed his thin black eyebrows until deep cracks appeared on his wide forehead. “Is that a dog?“

Ulfrika answered only when she got into the lift and pushed the right button,“Yes.“

“I allowed you only those two dirty beasts.“

“So? You invite various other filthy man-eaters from the street nearly every night and nobody bats an eye. Is it a case of a social cohesion you feel towards your fellow specimen, perhaps?“

The door on the lift started to close. The sound of the tiny wheels moving in the rusty rails echoed throughout the dusty space. It was loud, yet the caretaker’s last words were more powerful. “Watch your mouth, doctor. There’s a lot of people in the streets who’d gladly take your spot here. Be careful what you say to me, you impudent bitch!“

“I’m not impudent. Only observing a certain natural behaviour of local species. Good night, sir. Hopefully the fleas won’t bite you so you can get some better sleep and stop being this rabid for no reason.“

As the rusty door closed and the lift started to move upwards, the reddened face of the man vanished among the quick images of changing levels.

A loud bang marked the endpoint of the long way to the highest level. The lightbulb inside the cabin as well as the one in the long corridor flickered once the doctor stepped out. Yet both decided to keep shining in the gloomy hallway. Although, the light from the street could be otherwise enough, thickly painted glass of a big window at the end of the corridor didn’t allow better lighting. The atmosphere mirrored on the dried palm which now more resembled a scarecrow than a healthy plant. The three doors were no different. Their peeled brown colour and varnish exposed the naked wood and the cracks in the form of a web in it.

Ulfrika nonchalantly walked by the first door with a mop leaned against it. The item gave away to her that the caretaker still didn’t change the location of the second storeroom in the building and that the reeking smell was still residing in the locked room.

The second door, an abandoned flat, was directly facing hers. She was prepared to prop against the entrance when a sudden noise made her look behind and pause in thought while the poor puppy woke up from its light slumber and whimpered.

The noise of something falling was coming from inside the abandoned apartment.

“Come on!“ Ulfrika grunted and quickly turned on her heel. She pushed the entrance door and as fast as she could she jumped into the safety of her flat. The dust whirled behind her but she no longer cared.

Behind the locked door and in a joyful howling of a large wolf with thick grey fur and yellow blazing eyes she let out a relieved sigh.

Her eyes suddenly brightened up, a perfect contrast to the dark abyss which she showed to the outer world.

“Tiru! Hello, my dearest friend! How was your day?“

A loud howl and a waggling tail provided an answer.

“Yes, I understand. Don’t worry. The dinner will be soon. Where’s Krabat, though?“

Another bark.

“Oh, I see. I shouldn’t worry you that much next time. Hopefully, he’s going to return soon. By the way, here’s our new little friend, Tiru. Please, take care of…“ She wanted to say the name of the puppy when a realisation struck her once again.

She carefully raised the trembling puppy over her head and checked the crotch.

“Little one, you came here by a river, nearly drowning in it. I’m sure you have fleas. But I also bet you might be an excellent hunter. You seem to display a great will and maybe…“

As she let the puppy down and saw how quickly he turned back to lick her foot, Ulfrika finished her sentence,“...loyalty.“ The doctor lightly tapped on her chin. Soon, the hybrid widely smiled as she proudly announced,“Argos. That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?“

The harehound happily barked and let himself be licked by gentle gentle Tiru. Ulfrika used this sudden distraction. Neatly putting her clothes in its place in a simple wardrobe, she ventured into a tiny kitchen where the before-hand prepared dough was awaiting her.

While she was preparing the pork stuffing, a sharp pale beak knocked on the kitchen window. The doctor didn’t need to turn around to know who was waiting behind. Stretching out her long arm she let the raven inside. The black feathers whizzed and the bird obediently landed on the hybrid’s shoulder.

A little peck here and there caused Ulfrika to look at him. She was ready to scold him for coming home so late but once she saw a banknote in Krabat’s beak, she let out a bark. Her laughter startled out only the small puppy who in the meanwhile made himself most comfortable under the wolf’s chin.

“Who did you steal from this time?“

No matter how much she asked him, the raven refused to let out any sign. He let go of the piece of paper and let himself be petted.

The dish was finally in the oven, roasting until it was deliciously crunchy. The smell of dough and spiced meat with onion filled the whole apartment. To use the free time, Ulfrika with a curious Krabat went over to Argos. Before taking the final step, the eager and overly curious raven flew down from her shoulder and started observing every detail of the puppy. Every scar, every bald spot in his dark caramel fur, his cropped ear. The view made Krabat let out a loud caw. Argos drew himself nearer to Tiru and whimpered.

“Krabat, be careful around our little boy. I doubt he’s seen much of the outside world. Is that right, little pup?“ She gently smiled and petted the puppy. “Tiru, please, watch over him for a while. Krabat, you take care of the oven. I’ll go and prepare the sink. Little Argos needs a bath.“

Once she said the last word, the puppy squeaked and desperately barked. Though, after the reassuring nudge of the she-wolf and a tender look from his new, much caring owner, he stopped. “Don’t worry, sweetie. This time, there won’t be any freezing water or anything else that would hurt you. Ever. I promise, alright?“

Ulfrika quickly made her way to the light bathroom and began preparing all the things she needed. A shampoo, a wide sink full of warm water, an old brush she no longer used. Everything was prepared and laying still under the gaze of two lightbulbs installed in the corners of the bathroom. Only a towel was missing. Ulfrika sighed when she realised it. Another walk through her flat was the last thing on her mind. The strength was slowly leaving her and the tiredness was taking over the lanky body. But remembering the innocent creature, she sighed and walked over to an antique looking wardrobe in the entrance room. Despite her light body weight, the wooden floor squeaked.

Her eye ominously looked up from under silky hair. The single light bulb which was there. The flashing immediately stopped. The space was once again flooded by a white light.

Ulfrika carefully slid out a yellow towel from a neatly stored pile. She turned around on her heel and wanted to venture to the kitchen where Argos finally began to happily bark and play with his new friends.

But she didn’t go there.

The bell on the front door rang.

Before she walked over and gazed through the peephole, she puffed, completely annoyed. Yet, she didn’t have any choice. The sounds from inside as well as the light sneaking under the door gave away instantly that somebody was at last home.

It wouldn’t be Ulfrika, however, if she didn’t rush her companions into the closet in her bedroom and told them to be as quiet as possible. Only then she sneaked back to the front door and looked through the old peephole.

A person with a dark green hood over their head was waiting there and impatiently pressing the bell. Their face could be barely recognisable under the layer of clothing. Not to mention they were arching over.

Warily placing her hand on the cold handle and preparing her sharp claws and fangs as sharp as a needle, she finally answered the constant ringing.

The person jumped up in surprise when a gust rose and a blunt force threw them against the wall behind. They didn’t even manage to let out a scream. Ulfrika’s cold and unnervingly calm eyes shut them up for good.

She placed her nails close to the person’s hairy neck and whispered, never letting her eyes off of them. “Who are you? Why do you keep asking for me? What do you-?“

Her grip on the hoodie’s collar loosened and she let out the boy’s feet fully touch the floor. “You?!“

A pair of daring brown eyes, lighter than her own and of a strange shape, looked back from under the hood. The boy of no more than eighteen with a freckled face and fangs smiled back. “Sup, auntie!“

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Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added): @vanessaroades-author @rubywrite @aohendo @rbbess110 @jgmartin @outpost51 @athenswrites

[madefate]

Stolas is no longer on bedrest, but he's still not back to 100%, probably won't be for a while. The stress of the past few weeks has triggered an early molt, and he'd been pretty much hiding out in his room for a week, attempting to avoid actually seeing anyone. Or at least, that was his usual method of dealing with the embarrassment of losing his feathers. He'd always been told to keep himself out of sight until his plumage was back to the way it should be, that they couldn't risk the Goetia family appearing less than perfect, at any time. And old habits die hard. Which is why he's in the bathroom now, trying to deal with the wings he usually keeps retracted, brushing out errant feathers. Usually, he can deal with his wings in an afternoon, but it's much slower going than usual, with his still-healing injuries. He knows he's been holed up in here too long, but he's still working on getting his confidence and self-esteem back, and right now…., he still wants to look his best when he's around anyone else, especially Blitz. @helldustedstories

❝ Guess who's so fuckin' good at killin' he got to close up shop early ! ❞ There was no denying that it's been a pretty relentless few weeks, in just about every possible way. Blitz hasn't really settled in one place for more than a night - some with Loona, some with Stolas, some passed out at his desk as the business has been piling up at a steady pace for once - and when he's not in the human realm, taking out targets like a certified badass, he's been keeping an ear to the ground for word of Striker - and then, of course, there's Barbie's trail that's come back up that he's been keeping more than an eye on -

Suffice to say, Blitz is pretty damn pleased with himself today.

For once, things were going right. They'd taken three back to back cases and finished them in record time, sending all three human dipshits plummeting right into hell to face retribution ( or, well, one of them to a pretty disgusting makeout session right in his fucking office, but he did charge an extra fee for emotional damages ). Moxxie and Millie were able to slip away early to get some well deserved alone time, and Blitz had given the extra cash to Loona so she could get some retail therapy in.

As for himself ? He'd swung by to pick up some new takeout for Stolas and Octavia - an unexpected delight has been feeding Stolas things he'd never tried before and keeping track of his favorites - and had even washed up to look mildly presentable before actually walking through the front door of Stolas' estate. Something that still sets him a little on edge, despite the fact that he hasn't seen hide nor feather of Stella since he's been camped out at Stolas' bedside during his recovery.

He really doesn't think anything of trodding the familiar path to Stolas bedroom - then the bathroom when he doesn't find him in the bed - and he's about to keep running his mouth when the sight that greets him renders him momentarily speechless.

Wings.

That's all he notices at first - brilliant silver plumage catching the soft light of the bathroom, fluffing out into wings that hang down from Stolas' arms. Blitz's lips are parted, and his eyes wide - and sparkling. He lingers in the doorframe, entranced by the overwhelming awe that comes with seeing Stolas' wings for the first time, heart warmly thrumming up in his throat -

Then he realizes that Stolas is trying to reach practically behind himself and instinct takes over, crossing over to place a hand on Stolas', urging him to lower his arm.

❝ Hey - are you okay ? You're gonna pull something like that. ❞ Up close now, Blitz can't help but admire the soft array of feathers like it's something new and miraculous, because to him it is. ❝ I didn't know ... should I have known ? They're just so - amazing ... ❞

[krissykakesss]

Infectious 91 - The Third Night

--- Statuses ---

Twilight Sparkle:

Health: 100%

Sanity: 98%

Stress: 12%

Aggression: 1%

Docility: 100%

Status: Healthy, aware

Rainbow Dash:

Health: 100%

Sanity: 100%

Stress: 5%

Aggression: 3%

Docility: 95%

Status: Healthy, aware

Pinkie Pie:

Health: 100%

Sanity: 100%

Stress: 3%

Aggression: 0%

Docility: 100%

Status: Healthy, aware, grieving

Princess Celestia:

Health: 100%

Sanity: 100%

Stress: 10%

Aggression: 1%

Docility: 100%

Status: Healthy, aware, immune?

------

Twilight picked the paper up, it was a document. In big bold letters the name read "Infectious 91" and "Morsephaguilous", with a blurry image of an unidentified pony with their eyes blue/black, skin rotting and foam at the mouth. Plus, their skin looked like it was boiling away. The alicorn stared at the paper in pure shock.

"Ok, what in the name of Princess Celestia is this-?" She then read more pieces of the article, mainly more focused on the "symptoms" section of the document.

Rainbow Dash went up to Twilight, curious about the document and its contents and looked at the top page of the it. She frowned. "Why the hell is it called '91'??"

The pegasus leaned her head closer to the paper as she couldn't help but let out a reluctant laugh. "And what the fuck is 'morse-phingilligan'???" she mocked the name.

Twilight was now confused as well, as she didn't pay attention to the detail before. She laughed.

"Oh! You do in fact have a point..." the alicorn's expression changed. "Why IS it called Infectious *91*?" the purple alicorn replied, looking at Dash as she sighed. "I don't even wanna say whatever the actual name is."

Pinkie was about to head back inside into one of the houses, anything to get rid of the shivering feeling that was making her skin shaky, yet her senses overwhelmed her with the high pitched, hoarse noise coming from layers upon layers of broken glass from a distance.

"I can't do this anymore!!!" Pinkie cried as she wrapped her hooves around Twilight. The alicorn stroked her hair back, in concern. She then saw Applebloom stumbling twice. Pinkie felt Twilight's head move, and then she saw her expression. Pinkie went up to Applebloom and then saw her nearly falling, her doe eyes were lidded and her pink hair was all over the place. Pinkie gulped.

Applebloom fell into Pinkie's arms as she hyperventilated and bawled, the little filly could feel the pain from her neck eating her from the inside out. The expression on the younger filly's face made Pinkie terrified, as she didn't want the same thing that happened to her sister to happen to Applebloom too.

"Ok ok Applebloom. You just gotta survive a night, just stay awake." the pink pony reassured her and then reluctantly smiled. She then looked around and then averted her gaze to her bag. Pinkie spotted a muffin in her bag and gave it to the smaller filly and did a ditzy dance.

"H- H-" Applebloom coughed. "Hehe, thanks.."

Twilight then gazed out into the open, scratches on the walls and black vines becoming more visible. Even though the neighbourhood was silent, the uneasy feeling was not. Twilight looked back at Dash, whose expression was even more shocked than hers.

Then, she looked away from her friend and then had a determined look on her face.

"I'll try to convince Celestia and Luna to let us stay with them, maybe they are able to tell us what it means and do something about it!"

The group trodded on and on as they aproached the pale gates that surrounded the palace of Equestria. Twilight tapped onto the doorbell as her hooves felt weightless onto the fluffy terrain. The speaker then played static.

"Hey, it's me, Twilight. Apparently there is some kind of disease spreading all over Ponyville so I was wondering, maybe we could stay at your place for a little while."

The girls stood there for a few minutes, which felt like hours. None of them could hear Celestia, Luna, Cadance or any of the other royals. They then found a place to sit, which was pretty isolated and far from any building where any potential infected could be.

"Ok, this is no time for playing games. Where the fuck are the princesses??!!" Dash sighed as she rolled her eyes. She combed her hair and then tied it up, leaving her hair in a fringe, as she kicked her hooves in impulse.

As she and the others waited for what felt like days for an answer from the royals, Dash's walkie-talkie from her bag started ringing, with each ring getting louder. She took it out and pressed the 'answer' button and adjusted the antenna.

"Hey," The pegasus started her sentence as the audio from the walkie-talkie was inaudible and all there was were hissing noises, but only for a brief moment. Someone answered the call in a worried voice. It was Applejack.

"Hey Dashie!! Great to see ya! But," Applejack stopped her sentence as her voice got shakier. In the background of the call, there was slamming and knocking at her front door. "I'm in a struggle right now. I'm currently with Fluttershy and Discord in a- little dent right now..." the cowgirl's voice quavered as she shouted. "IS MY SISTER OK???"

"Yeah...we're talking care of her and we'll make sure she's doing ok, everything's under control," Dash replied in a concerned tone as she looked at the doorbell near the palace gates and back at the speaker of the walkie-talkie.

[chernobog13]

ZATOICHI MONOGATORI aka THE TALE OF ZATOICHI 

Released April 12, 1962.

The first of a series of 25 films that ran from 1962 through 1973, followed by a 100-episode television series, and a final film in 1989, all starring the inimitable Shintaro Katsu as Zatoichi the blind swordsman.

This film is more deliberately paced than the bulk of the series.  However, It does a wonderful job of introducing Ichi and the world he lives in.  Many of the mainstays of the series are seen here for the first time: Ichi winning at dice despite his blindness, Ichi’s intolerance for yakuza who trod all over the common folk, Ichi’s lightning-fast swordplay, and his strong sense of justice.

The film is loosely based on a short story from 1948 by Kan Shimozawa.  That story gave the reader just the barest details about Zatoichi,; he’s more of a mystery than anything else.  Luckily, Katsu-san was up to the challenge of fleshing the character outing bringing him fully to life.

The film - and Ichi himself - proved to be so popular that the sequel, The Tale of Zatoichi Continues (Zoku Zatoichi Monogatori) was released exactly six months later.

[words-and-coffee]

When I die I want your hands on my eyes: I want the light and the wheat of  your beloved hands to pass their freshness over me one more time: to feel the softness that changes my fate. I want you to live while I, asleep, await you, I want your ears to go on hearing the wind, for you to smell the scent of the sea we loved together and for you to go on treading on the sand we trod on. I want what I love to stay alive and you I loved and sang about all things, so go on blooming, beflowered, so you may reach all that my love commands, so that my shadow may saunter through your hair, so that all may know the reason for my song.

Pablo Neruda, 100 Love Sonnets: LXXXIX

[efficient-fishingrod]

Debris and Weeds

I've made some observations about the propagation of weeds and debris (and grass) in Stardew Valley which I haven't seen anywhere else so I'm making a post about it.

This will describe the phenomenon to the best of my observations (I don't know how the code works) and also how to avoid frustrations with it and even make use of it.

For reference:

This is grass:

These are twigs and rocks, which are collectively "debris":

and these are weeds:

All of these images were taken in Spring. Some things may look differently in other seasons. (there's also a unique kind of weed found on the Forest and Four Corners farm)

You're probably familiar with seeing these popups:

The spreading weeds have caused damage to your farm.

If you're wondering why it pops up when you can't see anything damaged, it's probably because weeds spread to a tile that had debris on it and they destroyed the existing rock or twig.

The Stardew Valley wiki is good about describing when these spread, how they overtake other objects, and what blocks their spread, but it doesn't go into detail on how the randomness works.

As far as I can tell, the game chooses a few tiles containing weeds or debris at random not just from your farm but from anywhere outside. This includes: -Your farm -Cindersnap Forest -Pelican Town -Railroad (I'm not sure if the Ginger Island farm is included or not)

I've seen multiple players use the scythe on weeds while ignoring the debris. This leads to huge circles of debris forming over time. The debris blocks both their paths (aside from where villagers recently walking has destroyed the debris) and the spawning of forage items.

It's been my experience that weeds are either more plentiful or more likely to spread over debris. As far as I can tell, if you leave weeds alone, eventually they will block and replace debris.

Another thing I've noticed is the amount of spreading from existing weeds and debris appears to be fixed and doesn't scale with how many of them exist on the various map areas.

This means if you clear out a lot of weeds and debris from one area, you'll see more aggressive spreading of them in other places.

To put it another way: if you clear all the weeds and debris from your farm, the weeds and debris in Pelican Town, Cindersnap Forest, and the Railroad will be more likely to expand to adjacent tiles. (and vice versa)

If you happen to want more weeds (for fiber or, on the Forest farm, Mixed Seeds) or rocks and twigs (for some reason) you can selectively destroy what's on the outdoor maps to confine the weeds and/or debris to specific areas where you want them to spread.

When I removed all debris and only left weeds standing on the Railroad map it was easy to see how many of them would appear each day. The limited options for where weeds could spread made the game concentrate them next to the handful of existing weeds, making quite dramatic growth each day. (Seemed like around 8-12 new weeds but I didn't count)

You could use this to fill the town with weeds if that's your thing. If there's only a few weeds on the maps the odds of those weeds spreading more than one tile overnight will be almost 100%, letting the weeds or debris spread past the tiles that are regularly trod on by villagers.

Given the annoyance of finding mixed seeds when you want to make a lot of fiber seeds this could be useful on Forest or Four Corners farms.

[depizan]

I've encountered at least three books in the recent(ish) past where the premise was more interesting than the plot. In fact, in two of them, the book got significantly less interesting when the plot showed up. I've been trying to work out exactly what's going on there, because my instinctive explanation doesn't make any goddamn sense.

See, what I want to say is that the reason the books got less interesting when the plot showed up is because it was imposed from the outside. But plots almost always are. Like they say: villains act and heroes react. Which holds true whether we're talking villains and heroes or natural disasters and hapless survivors or antagonists and main characters or whatever else. It's very rare for the main characters to actually instigate the plot.

(In fact, outside of treasure hunting/macguffen plots, I can't think of any examples at all. And it's far from 100% even in those kinds of plots. It's roughly as common for the antagonist/villain to instigate by hunting the doohicky or hiring the protagonists to hunt the doohicky.)

Perhaps it's that the plots are somehow the wrong plot. (Which would actually include the third book, as well.) The plot the book actually has is less interesting than a plot that might have organically grown out of the premise. We could have had something slightly different, but, instead, the author opted for a well trod path. A bland, well trod path.

Hell, in one of the books, the main characters don't even seem interested in the plot. It just keeps poking at them until they're finally forced to interact with it. If the characters in the book aren't interested in the plot, why should the audience be?

(Mind, you could probably write a hilarious small town murder mystery where the only person who cares about the plot is the detective, and everyone else in the village is far more interested in the fete, or Colonel Suchandsuch's roses. But even there, it only works if the detective does care.)

Of course, you can have very entertaining fiction in which the main character(s) are annoyed by the plot. Both The Rockford Files and (original flavor) MacGyver made good use of ye old "god damn it, my idiot friend has dragged me into some kind of ridiculous trouble again" plot. But, again, the characters in question do still care either because they care about their idiot friend or because they're in the soup now, too. Or both.

It's also very hard to successfully not care when the plot kicks down your door and waves weaponry at you. One could argue that large portions of the hard boiled detective genre are entirely made of that. (Which would also explain it's presence on The Rockford Files.)

And that might be the issue with the book where the protagonists didn't care. The plot let them not care right up until near the end, and by that time, I was very much bored with the plot's ineffectual efforts to make them (and/or me) care.

It's not just that, though, since that doesn't apply to the other two books. It's like the plot and the characters have to... I don't know... be right for each other? Or the plot needs to be the most interesting thing you could with these characters in this world? (Or at least not the least interesting thing you could do with these characters in this world.)

When I was trying to be a mystery writer, one of the things that frustrated me was the insistence that the detective have a personal stake in the mystery. But if you have the right character, that's not necessary. Or, rather, they will see to it that they have a personal stake. It's like Doctor Who; the Doctor (especially some regenerations) just can't resist poking about, and he invariably pokes his way right into trouble. Now the plot has a personal stake in him.

Hell, there's an episode of Simon & Simon ('80s private detective show) where they investigate a letter that shows up like 30 years late, addressed to the person who had (what is now) their office then. Some people would toss it in recycling, or send it back to the post office, but they (like the Doctor) just couldn't resist poking about. That's why they're the protagonists of a detective show.

... It is about the plot matching the protagonists. If you give the protagonists a plot that they can't resist, it all feels natural. If you give them a plot that they can/could resist, the hand of the author is impossible to ignore. If there are other plots that feel more right for the characters or setting, the audience will notice, and notice that the one that's happening feels forced.

The plot can come from outside in a Watsonian sense, but it cannot come from outside in a Doyalistic sense. The audience will notice.

[toushindai]

3 and 4 for the ask meme!

3) name five things that are NOT going to happen next

The Gerudo lieutenant Ganondorf just framed for something he did is not going to spill the beans on him

Ganondorf is not going to stay politely in his cell

Rauru is not going to be ready to face accusations of his own entitlement (I'm cheating with this answer. whether he's ready or not he's gonna have to anyway)

Zelda is not going to do. anything really. I'm sorry but this fic isn't about her. I'm having enough trouble even beginning to figure out why she (and possibly Mineru) haven't realized what's going on between Ganondorf and Rauru even though 100% of the servants have

Sonia's not going to set a date for Ganondorf's execution though tbqh at this particular moment in time she probably really wants to, given that Ganondorf is continuing to make her husband miserable

4) name five things that COULD happen next, logically

There are any number of ways Rauru could react to the Gerudo lieutenant telling him "actually I trust you even less than Ganondorf even though he just framed me and here's why;" I've not pinned down his exact reaction yet. He might honestly just. leave? Or he could make her arrest more stringent--an actual cell, instead of a heavily guarded so-can-I-sweet-talk-you-into-betraying-your-chief normal room.

Depending on what the fic needs, Rauru could go contemplate his daughter & the kind of legacy he's building for her, what kind of bridge he is being from his Zonai ancestors into the future he will someday leave to her.

Ganondorf could suggest that Rauru torture the lieutenant he scapegoated for information. Not sure that's an emotional beat I currently need but it's definitely one I considered earlier.

"All your servants know we're fucking" could become a relevant emotional beat. Strong possibility of this one, actually, I just have to figure out what it achieves (other than "makes Rauru feel bad about himself" because as much as that's presently one of Ganondorf's favorite things to do, it's also very well-trod ground at this point in time), and if I keep it I think I need to make an edit to chapter one to introduce it as a tension earlier. That's fine!!!!! Chapter one needs one billion edits. It's fine.

The Zonai folklore story I made up (the Hero of Dragons) could come up in the last antagonistic-philosophizing-before-sex scene or it could not. I don't know. I don't know. The problem with having made this up is that, with it established in my mind, it's something I can casually bring up when it's tangentially related, but for it to have any kind of resonance with a reader it actually needs to be full-on incorporated and I don't know how consistently I can do that. hh. the first draft has to EXIST it does not have to be GOOD yet. which is a relief because. it's not