#yes this is my take on the golden route what else do you want from me

[diogenescynic2288]

Sunday Sermon 2: On Laws

Happy Sunday to all again. I am once again writing to you as Pope Orion Orangutan Omnibenevolence Kosmos Yes or POOKY.

So, the last sermon I delivered might have seemed to offer instruction, advice, or command in regards to chilling and maybe being nice. That was not my intent. It was at most, a suggestion. I am not an Enlightened One. I'm not more in touch with the Divine than anyone else.

While I'm writing these, I do invoke my Discordian Pope title. That does not make me an authority. I took the expensive route to Discordian Papacy: I bought a ten dollar used copy of the Steve Jackson Games printing of the Principia Discordia and then made a fifteen cent photocopy at FedEx Kinkos of the page with the Be Your Own Pope card. That does not elevate me above anyone else. All who decide to join the Golden Apple Corps of Eris are equally in the Discordian Papacy.

I'll own up to a thing: back when I was in late high school or my year of college, I came to identify with the label of anarchism or libertarianism coming to it from left-leaning reasons. For instance, at that time, gay marriage was a controversial issue and not yet legal across the United States of America, and I had a simple stupid solution: marriage is no longer a legal status for anyone straight or gay, the government just doesn't do marriage anymore. Marriage equality achieved.

Anyway, as a budding anarchist, attempting to have a consistent moral philosophy of life, I started thinking about Christianity, particularly the church my parents had been raising me in. If top down authority and distinctions of station are evils when talking about the world of human politics, are they any less so when applied to religion? Long story short, maybe God exists, but he's a tyrant and All Clergy Are Bastards.

Today's reading is from The Gospel of Mary Magdalene I'm drawing my wording from The Essential Gnostic Gospels translated by Alan Jacobs published by Watkins 2009:

Then Jesus greeted them saying, “Peace be with you all.

Take my peace into your Selves; be watchful so nobody leads

you astray claiming “Look there, look here for the son of man.”

I tell you that the son of man is within you all!

Seek him inside; those who search diligently

and earnestly shall surely find him.

Then leave and preach the truth of the Kingdom

to those with ears to hear;

don't invent rules beyond those I've given.

Don't make laws like law-makers do

or else you'll be held back.”

After he had said this he left.

[I'm skipping a bit to get to the next part I want to quote]

Mary answered, “What's concealed from you I'll tell;

I saw him in a vision and I told him.

He said, “Blessed are you that your strength

wasn't shaken by my appearance,

for where the heart is lies buried treasure.”

[another skip still Mary talking]

When my soul had conquered ignorance it rose up

and saw the fourth power, which assumes seven forms.

The first is darkness, the second desire, then ignorance,

fear of death, power of the flesh, foolish reason,

and self-righteous pedantry.

These are the powers of anger and doubt; they ask,

“From where did you come, killer of men;

where are you heading, slayer of space?”

My soul replied, “What bound me is dead,

what enveloped me has been vanquished;

my desires are over and ignorance is no more.

In this life I was freed from the world

and the chains of forgetfulness.

From now on I will rest in the eternal now;

for this age, this aeon, and in stillness.”

So today's lesson from POOKY is: Yeshua and Miriam also say no laws, free yourself from ignorance and pedantry.

Good Day of the Sun unto you all.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

don't ever wonder

Pairing: Akiko Yosano x gn!Reader

Writing Genre: drabble

Genre(s): romance

Word count: 611

Warnings: alcohol & its consumption, me trying to write a first date having never been on a date before

Notes: I've been wanting to write a fic w/Yosano, and I figured that this was the perfect opportunity! And yes, this fic is titled after Ascension by Maxwell ;)

Bouquet Meaning: red roses - love & romance; sunflowers - adoration, loyalty, hope, peace; monarch butterfly - rebirth/starting something new

for the 'New Beginnings' collab by @venexus

Read it on ao3!

~~~

The crisp, natural scent of the bouquet in your hands momentarily eased your nerves as you thanked and paid the florist. Red roses and sunflowers formed the delicate shape of heart, and a bright monarch butterfly rested on top.

Is this too forward? No, Yosano is direct, if anything this is perfect… right?

You snuck another sniff from the bouquet to quell your pestering anxiety. The hum of the car’s engine was soon overshadowed by a soft song playing on the radio as you drove along the familiar route to your coworker’s apartment.

—

The gentle knock you rapped on Yosano’s door echoed the beating of your heart as she opened it. An off-the-shoulder dress crafted in red silk was the first thing to greet your vision – a large slit over her right leg drew your attention next. By far the most beautiful, however, was her dazzling smile encased in red. Her dark hair held a light curl, and her stunning magenta eyes were decorated with small, black wings.

“You look enchanting tonight, Akiko.”

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“I have a gift for you.”

Revealing the bouquet from its hiding place behind your back, you watched excitement bloom in Yosano’s eyes.

“Oh, wow, I love flowers!”

"I see a new arrangement on your desk every week, and I figured that you might."

"So, you've been watching me?" she queried, setting the bouquet down on her entry table.

"How could I not?" you replied, lifting up your hand for her to take as she finished locking the door.

"You're quite the charmer this evening, Y/n." she spoke, slipping her fingers through yours.

"Think of it as your effect on me." you smiled coyly, leading her to the car.

—

The dim light from glittering chandeliers highlighted Yosano’s golden jewelry – your eyes transfixed by her graceful movements as she finished her choko of sake. Her eyes twinkled as her fuchsine gaze fell over your features. Slender fingers traced over yours as she tilted her head, seemingly analyzing the emotions in your eyes. She hummed with a light chuckle, appearing to be both pleased and amused at what she found.

The waiter brought the check a moment later, and you slid your card in between the leather. Together you finished the tokkuri, feeling the hot sake warm up your body as it went down. The waiter brought back your check and card, and you thanked him before signing it.

Standing up, you grasped Yosano's hand and left the classy establishment.

"Thank you for the lovely dinner." she spoke.

"You're welcome, but the night's not over yet." you voiced with slight mischief.

She looked at you with curiosity and miniscule suspicion as you led her down the street, nearing a melodious park.

The trees were wrapped in little glittering lights, and bright delphiniums grew from the soil with diverse shades of snapdragons and primroses. A small orchestra stood off to the side of the cobblestone center – a smooth, slow, and romantic composition blossoming from their instruments.

"Did you do this?" she asked, still observing the dazzled environment.

"Of course! Why else would I have left the office early?" you replied.

"This is beautiful, Y/n, thank you." she smiled sincerely.

"It's my pleasure." you said softly, taking her right hand in yours, as her left slid to your shoulder, and your right moved to her hip.

Together you swayed gently, basking in comfort and an ever-growing feeling of love – one that had been blooming since you first met five years ago. This chilled night under the stars would become the first of many with Yosano, and mark the beginning of the next chapter in your lives.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @kunikinnie @valonava @nakaharaswife @chuuyasboots @livingforteaandorange @exo-lllllll @hnnnnnnnm

[nicolesainz]

New Romantics (Part VII)

Carlos Sainz x OC x Mason Mount

Chapter 8

Warnings: smut-ish, minors dni, angst, jealousy, lots of tears

Carlos POV

I was an asshole. I am an asshole. How can people present me as a sweet and humble man when on the inside I’ve hurt so many people? That sounds like what a cruel and shameless person would do.

After that night in Monaco, I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Somehow, she managed to hide herself very easily during the race. I only spotted Mason giving me death stares every time he saw me looking through the Red Bull area.

Obviously an apology wouldn’t make the cut. I was to blame for the distance created between the Norris siblings. I couldn’t face Lando after that. I felt disgust dousing me. That day in Monaco, should have been a happy one, considering the podium, but it was the worst one to exist.

Quinn deserves to be with someone better. Someone who would treat her right. Apparently the one was Chelsea’s golden boy. But I would have given up everything for it to be me.

The following 2 races weren’t the best ones for me, having known that Silverstone was coming up and there was a chance that I’ve scared her off from coming to the race.

I didn’t want to hurt any other person further, so I broke up with Isa. She was and is a dear friend to me and doesn’t deserve a person like me in her life as her partner. I’d harm her. I’m in love with someone else. Not her.

Canada finished off on a high, almost winning the race but eventually settling for a second place. I really craved this first win in Formula 1. Being in the sport for eight years, that was my next goal.

The Monday after the race, I took a plain back to Madrid. I needed to be alone before I had to travel to UK for the weekend. I had to clear my head. There’s no grater thing in life than being surrounded by family and people who love you. But at that moment, I had lost a loved one with a mistake of mine.

Wednesday was my last day at home, so I decided to let myself be lazy and do nothing for the remaining hours. Sports websites, sports channels, instagram, Twitter, every social media, was buzzing about the announcement of the teams for the World Cup, taking place a few hours after Abu Dhabi ends.

Knowing that Spain qualified, I turned on the TV and waited to hear which players had been selected. To my disadvantage, the countries were being picked by alphabetical order.

“…And now moving to another favorite of the championship, England. This year, their squad may even be stronger than the one from 2018” one of Sky Sports commentators said happily

“Oh yes! New additions to the team. It’s taking the form of the one they had back in the 2020 Euros. So, let’s hear the names of the Englishmen representing their country in the World Cup”

“Marcus Rashford, the extremely talented Forward of Manchester United…and Mason Mount, Chelsea’s rising star and one of the best midfielders”

As I heard his name I wanted to smash the Tv. I decided to take a safer route and simply turn it off. I grabbed my phone and opened Instagram, only to see that Quinn had posted a story. She doesn’t usually post anything. Not being very active.

I take a deep breath, only for my heart to tear apart a bit, as this picture pops up right in front of my face

My stomach started twisting and turning around. But it was for the best. I was the one who let her go. He simply took the chance.

I close my phone as I hear a knock on my door. I started recollecting whether I had invited someone or not.

“It’s Charles! Open up loverboy” I hear my Monégasque teammate shout from outside. What was he doing here?

“Oh finally. It was getting a bit cold out there. Sorry for barging in without telling you” he apologized with a suitcase behind his back

“No worries. But what are you doing here? Did something happen?” I ask with concern knowing that Charles didn’t drive all the way here just to go together to Silverstone

“I assume you’ve seen the story Quinn posted?”

“Yes. Unfortunately. But I can’t do something about it”

“Yes you can! All you need is a plan”

“I already tried Charles. Whenever I’m around her, she refused to talk to me and then Mason comes to the rescue”

“Try and approach her in another way”

“Like how?”

“First of all text her if she’ll be in the race. It’s Lando’s home race after all”

“I think she’ll regret coming to Silverstone. I was the reason she didn’t attend any of the races in the past two years. She was and is scared of me”

The words come out of my mouth and they taste sour. Charles doesn’t talk for a moment. I was too furious and too disappointed at myself. I caused this mess myself. And I didn’t know how to fix it.

“You know what? Let’s go out! I can’t stand looking at you being all sloppy and moody. We’ll get drunk” my teammate suggest, well, demands we do.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Charles, we have to get up early tomorrow”

“I’ll get you drunk no matter the cost! You need to cheer up a bit man!”

Last time I was drunk, it led to me pathetically texting Quinn and hating me even more than before. If Charles locks up my phone, then maybe getting drunk again wouldn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Okay, deal” I say shrugging my shoulders

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Quinn’s POV

I was sitting smiling across Mason, on his bed, while he was screaming and laughing while Face Timing with Declan. Being best friends and picked for Englands National Team is a dream for them.

I enjoyed seeing Mason this happy. It would be his first ever time competing in the World Cup! It’s been quite the time since I felt this excited for someone. My heart was fluttering and I was over the moon.

“Gotta go mate. Jude’s awake and I need to check on him. Laters! BYE QUINN. TAKE CARE OF MY BUDDY!” Declan exclaimed loudly through the phone and hung up afterwards

Mason turned to face me with a huge smile on his face. Suddenly he attacked me with multiple tickles and kisses all over my cheeks. Pure bliss i would say!

“This is perfect. I am going to the World Cup and I found out the news having you by my side. I couldn’t have asked for anything better than this. Thank you Quinn” he said, lowering his forehead to touch mine.

“Why are you thanking me? You should thank yourself for being so talented and proving your capabilities to the English crowd” I cupped his cheeks, caressing them softly

“I just hope I don’t disappoint them, or you. I really wanna show the world what I’m capable of”

“You could never disappoint me Mase, nor the team. Remember the Euro’s? The brilliant goals you scored and how you saved the team. I’m immensely proud of you”

As the worlds escaped my lips, a few seconds later they were occupied, being tangled with Mason, us kissing passionately, him being on top of me, removing our shirts so our skins could touch.

His mouth moved inches lower to my neck, sucking it, whilst my hands were playing with the lace of his sweatpants.

“Less teasing, more doing” Mason breathed and went on kissing and licking my hardened nipples, drawing circles with his tongue around them

“Oh Fuck-Mase!” I tried to hold my groan but it was nearly impossible, with the way he was making me feel.

My hands lowered both his pants and underwear, revealing his erected dick to me. I couldn’t react when I felt my panties being ripped by Mason. I took him in my hands and put the tip of his cock on my entrance, feeling both his and my pre cum.

“I need you Quinn. More than anything” Mason kissed me hardly once more, leaving me breathless.

“Open up like the good girl you are” he demanded and I immediately obeyed. Didn’t even think twice.

Mason knew that this would be my first time, so he didn’t force himself inside me, instead started slowly and with smooth moves. When I felt him inside me I let out a big gasp, with butterflies fluttering around my stomach.

“My god Mason” I exclaimed as my nails were dug inside his back, trying to steady my body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight baby, it’s amazing” his dick was clenched all over my pussy and a few moments later his pace became more speedy than before.

He found my G-spot with a rough trust, making me moan his name so loud, probably his neighbors heard us. He picked me up and threw my body against the shower wall, opening the tap and hot water pouring all over us. This was pure euphoria.

“You’re taking me so good love. Let me know if I’m hurting you” I could tell from his voice that he was scared of hurting me in any way

“You could never hurt me” I moan once more, reaching my peak. I was ready to cum.

“Mason I’m so close”

“Cum all over my cock princess. I want to taste you”

“I want you to fill me up. Every last inch” I say without being able to breathe anymore

“Your wish, is my command”

We both let a synchronized moan and came all over each other. I was utterly happy and satisfied after what had just happened. I’ve never felt so thrilled before.

“Thank you for allowing me to be your first” Mason gently said, wrapping my body with a towel.

The words i bursted our afterwards, were the truest, most honest and heartfelt ones I’ve said to someone. And I hoped to god, no one took them away.

“I love you Mason”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@alwaysclassyeagle for you being the only one on the masterlist of New Romantics 🫶🏻

Thank you for the support

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Black Roses - Third Year - Harry Potter X Female (Slytherin) Reader

Title: Third Year

Harry Potter X Female (Slytherin) Reader

Additional Characters: Ron, Hermione, Draco, Draco's father (Mentioned), Voldemort (Mentioned), Oprea Lady, and Reader's adoptive parents (Mentioned)

| First-Year | Second-Year | Third-Year | Fourth-Year | Fifth-Year | Sixth-Year | Seventh-Year | Epilogue |

WC: 1,941

Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of killing, small movie reference, family angst, Ron's rude, and fluff

You wished you never went home for the holidays. You wished more than anything to have stayed at Hogwarts. You didn't even care if your friends would be at Ron's home; you'd rather be alone in your room than at home. You had locked yourself in your room after your dear mother and father told you the truth. You weren't their true daughter. You knew. As said before, you had a sneaking suspicion. Them telling you wasn't even the real issue. It was who they said that you were the daughter of that really hit you hard.

You knew now why they had to forbid you from telling anyone your last name, and why they made sure the headmaster and professors didn't say it either. You were glad. Because if anyone had known, you probably wouldn't have the friends you had now.

Y/N... Y/N Riddle.

You were the daughter of the Dark Lord himself and your adoptive parents were the only people who knew of his real last name. He made them swear to never say anything, or they would suffer terribly. Your parents, ugh, you hated calling them that. They had said that dear father couldn't take care of you once you were born and had you sent away to some of his most wonderful followers. Estelle and Elmer had said it was such an honor to take care of you for all these years. Yeah, as if.

They had told you that you were to meet your father at the next meeting. When would that be? You didn't know. And you hoped it wasn't for a while.

You buried your face deeper into your pillow, groaning muffled as you clutched the pillow in your hands. You couldn't even owl Harry or anyone. You didn't want Estelle and Elmer to get suspicious. They didn't even know that you were friends with the Golden Trio in the first place. If they had found out... You didn't know what they would do after hearing about the perfect life that they planned out for you.

Study as if you were a normal, usual student. Get good grades. Pass on any information that could be of use. And once you were old enough, you would become a Death Eater and stand beside your father in the battle to take over the Wizarding World.

Yeah, right. You weren't into that whole... World domination thing.

~~~

Once everyone came back from the holidays, Draco went straight to you once he saw you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into a secluded hallway. His eyes were cold and held hints of betrayal.

"You're related to the Dark Lord?" He asked, but more like demanded your answer.

Good, Draco didn't know that you were his daughter. You nodded slowly, "Yes, I am." You answered him simply, "I'm sorry."

Draco's jaw hung open as he stared at you in disbelief. "How? Why?"

"I don't know all of the logistics of my personal life, Draco. All I know is that I am." You sighed sadly. "Speaking of Dark Lords, your father must be one of them." You spoke, clicking the puzzle pieces together.

Draco frowned and nodded, "Yeah, he is. He was the one who told me about you. He said that he wanted me to look after you or something. How special you are and all." He paused and looked at you, his eyes narrowing. "Does anyone else know? Did you tell Potter?"

You shook your head slowly, "No, I just... Well, It's not like I can tell anyone. You know my views on all this. If I told them I wouldn't take it past my dear dark relative of mine to kill me." You roll your eyes, hiding the slight fear you had about the subject.

"Kill you? He'd do that you think. To his flesh and blood?" Draco pondered and you shrugged.

"I've heard what he's done. I wouldn't be surprised. If it does go down that route, dying would be an awfully big adventure." You said simply as Draco's eyes widened and he laughed lightly.

"I'll never understand you, Y/N." He said, somewhat in awe.

"I don't think anyone will." You chuckled.

~~~

You were going to tell them. It was in their right to know. Especially since Harry was the main target. You worried on your bottom lip as you thought of the outcome. Harry would feel betrayed. They all would. But, poor Harry. He'd take it the hardest for sure. But, he deserved to know. Same with Ron and Hermione.

You knew that they had to be in their common room, so you quickly made it out of the dungeons and up the many stairs to the opera lady's picture. She turned from the wine glass in her hand and gave you a judgy one-over.

"You do know this is the Gryffindor Common Rooms, little lady?" She spoke and you sighed, nodding.

"Yep, and I'm here to see my friends. Caput Draconis." You whispered the password and the lady in the painting sighed before opening the door and letting you in.

You made it up the stairs and into the warm common room. You never went to the common room without either Harry or Hermione with you, but they gave you the password just in case you wanted to visit. That was how much they trusted you. The pit of your stomach turned at the thought. Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat on the orange couch in front of the raging fire. You walked over, placing your hands on the back of the plush couch as Harry flipped through a textbook, Hermione flipped through hers, and Ron simply ate some chocolate frogs.

"Hey, Ron. Working hard, or hardly working?" You speak up, chuckling as he jumps in his seat, turning to you with wide eyes; chocolate surrounding his mouth.

Hermione and Harry turned to you, greeting you, "Y/N, good to see you. Didn't think you'd come over tonight." Hermione spoke and you pushed yourself back off the couch, shrugging.

"Yeah, well. I have something... Rather important to tell you guys," You began, fiddling with your fingers as you gave the three a sheepish smile. "I should've told you after I found out, but I was worried. Uh..." You sighed, looking down at your black leather boots.

"What is it, Y/N?" Hermione asked, eyes filled with worry as she spoke, "Are you in some sort of trouble?"

You laughed sadly, "Yeah, of some sort."

Harry frowned, standing from the couch and walking around to take your hand in his, Hermione quickly doing the same; taking your free hand.

"You can tell us." Harry spoke softly, and you let out a shaky breath, finally letting your pent-up tears fall.

"Can I? Really? Cause, once I tell you, you'll see me differently and hate me." You whimper-ranted, looking up at Harry.

Harry gently squeezed your hand offering you a small smile. "Unless you killed someone, I don't think I could hate you."

"I beg to differ." You said bitterly, more to yourself than to him.

"You don't have to tell us, Y/N." Hermione spoke up but you quickly shook your head.

"No. I have to. I hate to, but I have to." You let out a deep breath, looking up to Harry and Hermione, glancing at Ron every-so-often. "Just know that being your friend has been the best thing ever. Thank you guys for sticking with me when all I do is whine about my problems and-"

"Y/N! Just tell us," Ron exclaimed, and Hermione glared at him, shutting him up.

"Okay... I'll just spit it out." You said, your voice cracking, and your friends' heads snapped towards you. "I'm- I'm the daughter of Voldemort." You shut your eyes tightly.

Hermione audibly gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand as she stared at you. Ron just stared with wide eyes, mouth slightly open; the chocolate frog in his hand melting. Harry had a similar expression to the know-it-all young girl and stared at you. His hand was still tightly holding yours as you felt your eyes wet with tears once more.

The silence was nearly killing you as you waited for them to speak. When they did speak, it was in unison.

"What?"

You hesitantly opened your eyes, watching as Hermione looked at you with such sadness. "Are you serious?" She asked, hoping it was just some morbid joke, but then, why would you be so distraught about it?

You nod, "Yes, unfortunately. I am. I'm sorry." You apologized profusely, tears falling down your cheeks.

"You bloody better be!" Ron exclaimed, gaining your attention, "I told you we shouldn't have trusted her." He spoke harshly and Hermione turned abruptly to him.

"Ronald! Shut it, will you!? She can't help who she is the daughter of." She scolded him quietly and he crossed his arms, pouting.

Harry, however, frowned at you, "When did you find out?" He questioned you, and you sighed, looking down.

"Over the holiday. My adoptive parents are his followers. He supposedly didn't want to take care of me, and gave me to them to raise for him." You roll your eyes, "How sweet of them to take me in, right?" You laughed bitterly.

Harry said nothing else as he looked down at your hand in his, "I agree with 'Mione. You can't help who you are related to. Just like me... I can't help that my aunt's family is intolerable." He said, staring into your eyes as you stared back.

"That's true. I guess... You're right," You sighed, looking down again.

"We love you, Y/N. No matter who your father is, or what he did, we won't stop being your friends." Hermione spoke up, pulling you into a hug.

"Thank you, 'Mione." You smiled and leaned into the hug, Harry joining.

Hermione pulled out slightly, glaring at Ron and gesturing for him to join. Ron rolled his eyes and reluctantly joined the group hug.

"So, what's your last name then?" Ron asked grumpily, voice slightly muffled from the group hug.

"Riddle. But you can't tell anyone. If anyone found out and put two and two together then my dear o' father might just as well kill me." You spoke, and Hermione nodded, understanding.

"Okay. No last name. Only Y/N." Harry spoke, and you sighed, nodding.

"I'll make a deal with you guys." You spoke, sitting on the couch and sighing, "If I'm able to get you guys to help me figure out a way to escape from my "family", then I'll give you..." You trailed off, thinking, looking at each of them in turn. "Harry, I'll get you a new broom. 'Mione, I'll buy that book you've been looking at when we go to Hogsmeade. And, Ron. I'll buy you fifty chocolate frogs."

At the words 'chocolate frogs,' Ron snapped up to look at you. "Really? But how are you going to afford that?" He asked and Hermione nudged him in the side.

You smirked, looking at the small group, "Well, one good thing came out of this. My father is supposedly very wealthy. And, I have my own sum in some vault. Who knew, right?"

"Wow." Hermione voiced and Harry looked at you hooked before he shook his head, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"You don't have to get me anything, Y/N." He spoke, and you shook your head, smiling brightly.

"I know, but I want to. Be ready for the next holiday." You tease, and both Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes.

“What? I love spoiling you three.” You winked with a smile.

____________________________________________________

@haaaareni

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist

[ga-yuu]

@ayseozturk20 I too love to translate main story routes, but it's a commitment that I don't have the time for right now....I'm currently occupied with Ikevil, so yeah.... but anyways, I thought of translating any one of Yoshitsune's collection stories....only two realize that----I don't have any of Yoshitsune's stories....because Yoshitsune is such a popular character in this game that cybird loves to put his story very high up at the top that my f2p ass can't reach. I have to make do with his pov stories of his main stories. So enjoy!

Yoshitsune Chapter 24 ~ Yoshitsune's POV

In the midst of a battle against Yasuchika-----

(There is no end to this)

I continued to swing my sword at the Inugami, who attack us endlessly.

(....Yoshino also looks tired)

Yoshino, who is riding on the same horse as me, continues to boldly absorb the demonic powers.

It seems like a heavy burden.

Then in the midst of the frenzy of voices, the whinnying of many horses and the clatter of their hooves echoed.

Yoshino: "Eh....?"

(That's----)

???: "---What a mess."

Yoritomo: "Fallen Hero, Minamoto no Yoshitsune. Don't tell me your blade gets dull when you fight with someone else other than me."

Yoshitsune: "Yoritomo-kou!"

Yoshino: "Yoritomo-sama!"

Yoritomo, with his soldiers, runs between the Inugami hordes and the Rebels.

Yoritomo: "Let's go! Show the Rebels how to fight!"

Shogunate soldiers: "Haa!!"

At a signal from Yoritomo, the Shogunate soldiers immediately cut down the Inugami.

(I didn't expect to see you here....you really are a loathsome person)

Even when we used to fight under the same banner.

I recall that hand always extended to me at the critical moment.

Yasuchika: "......Don't tell me. Did you already kill most of my soldiers?"

Yoritomo: "Your small army and my well-trained Shogunate soldiers are not on the same level."

(This part of him always remains the same)

Even now, he inspires my heart.

Yoshitsune: "Don't lose the military merit to them. We're going in too."

The Rebel soldiers responded with a renewed fighting spirit and shouts of encouragement.

At the same time as Yoritomo, I rode my horse and swung my sword at the Inugami.

Our gazes met and a flurry of sparks flew.

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune, Yoshino!"

Yoritomo who had paved the way and reached us at a leisurely pace...

Takes off the mask of the perfect Shogun and smirks.

Yoritomo: "You're not tired are you?"

Yoshitsune: "I feel so-so."

Yoritomo: "Don't worry. Now that I'm here, you will feel more energized."

Yoshitsune: "It certainly did sharpen my bloodlust and made me want to go on a rampage."

The Inugami came at us with their sharp fangs and snarling.

I held Yoshino tightly.

Yoshitsune: "Yoshino, hold on tight."

(I'll protect you)

Yoshino: "Yes!"

Wielding the white blade, I cut down the Inugami one after the other.

Yoshino also tries her best to hold out her hand to take away the demonic powers, causing golden mist to rise one after another.

(A formidable force to have as an enemy, but so reassuring to have as an ally)

And another reassuring presence, even though I'm reluctant to admit is.....

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune, use your supernatural powers after you attract them."

Yoshitsune: "Sure."

(You don't need to see it to know what Yoritomo-kou is doing)

While defeating the Inugami, I come face to face with Yoritomo.

Yoritomo: "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd have your back."

Yoshitsune: "It's for a good cause anyways."

Yoritomo: "Ah, that's right."

The two of us ride our horses and slay the demons.

(It really....reminds me of the old days)

My body still remembers the way my brother used to fight.

And as I rejoice at being able to fight together again, my sword becomes sharp by itself.

At that moment---one Inugami, which was ready to attack Yoritomo, can be seen.

Yoshitsune: "----Big brother!"

Yoritomo: "!"

I shouted in a hurry and sent wind blade towards it.

Yoshitsune: "Did all that politics make your arms weak?"

Yoritomo: "No, you dummy. I gave them to my little brother who is not very good at politics."

Yoritomo raised his white blade and finished off the Inugami.

(Only few more to go)

I looked around and saw a lone Inugami running towards me.

Yoshino: "Kyaa!"

Yoshitsune: "Get down!"

(---I can't make it in time)

I shielded Yoshino's body.

Yoshitsune: "....."

The Inugami's fangs shallowly sank into my arm.

Yoritomo: "Yoshitsune!"

Yoritomo quickly defeats the Inugami.

(I thought I already repaid you)

Yoshitsune: "Yoshino, you're not hurt right?"

Yoshino: "I'm fine! But Yoshitsune-sama, you're..."

Yoshitsune: "I'm fine. It's just a scratch."

(This doesn't compare to the pain I feel inside)

Yoshitsune: "I'm glad you're okay."

I let out a sigh of relief and looked ahead.

Yasuchika, who was behind the army of Inugami, was staring at us.

Yasuchika: "I thought it was very strange. How could the Shogunate and the Rebels have joined forces?"

Yasuchika: "But I get it now."

(...What do you mean?)

Yasuchika: "I wonder what will happen to the fragile bond between the Shogunate and the Rebels if the fox princess dies?"

Yoshino: "Eh..."

I felt Yoshino's body stiffen in my arms.

(This man is dangerous)

(I don't why but he is)

Yoshitsune: "What are you going to do?"

Yasuchika: "That...will be a treat to see."

Yasuchika drew his silver sword and slid it into his palm without hesitation.

Yoshino: "W-What are you..."

Yasuchika: "....Forgive me, Yoshino-san."

The moment when a flurry of blood soaked the ground.

(What's that?)

Purple light clings to the Inugami.

Their bodies become one or two times larger.

Inugami: *ROARS*

Yasuchika: "...Go on....do your job..."

Surrounded by the purple light, Yasuchika fell to his knees.

Clearly aiming at Yoshino, all the Inugami kicked the ground at once.

Yoshitsune: "Yoshino!"

Yoshino: "No...."

(I won't let anybody touch you!)

In the blink of an eye, I caught the claw in front of us with my sword.

The Inugami attack without a moment's pause, but are prevented by the blade of the wind.

Yoshino immediately reaches out to take away the demonic powers, but...

Yoshino: "T-Too fast..."

(Did Yasuchika use a technique that would increase their attack and speed?)

Once again, the Inugami surrounded us and we were unable to move carelessly.

I could feel Yoshino's fear, and the hair on my whole body stood up in cold anger.

(I need more power)

(More power to protect Yoshino and everyone else)

An impulse pulses through my chest, and my heart beats wildly.

(This is)

My bones are creaking and there is a burning pain all over.

(It's like my body is being remade)

I feel as if the components of my body are being dismembered and then put back together again.

(Yes, this is what I want)

(If my soul is alien, give me the power to match it)

As if emerging from a deep slumber, time that had stopped, flows again.

Yoshitsune: "----Back off."

The Inugami who were about to jump at us, backed away slightly.

Yoshitsune: "............"

(I can feel the magical power flowing out constantly)

There is a deep awareness of a fountain-like power.

Next thing I know, the winds were blowing like a storm.

Yoshino looks at me and her eyes widen.

Yoshitsune: "I won't forgive you."

Yoshitsune: "Anyone who tries to hurt Yoshino."

(I swear on this heart and soul)

....With eyes as red as blood and jet-black hair, Yoshitsune declares.

[needle-noggins]

For the fanfic ask, i was rereading Freaks of Nuture last night so! This part

The surgeon who is and isn't my brother pauses. My wormy intestines squirm in his slippery, blood-covered fingers in peristalsis. I wish they wouldn't.

"Yes, that's curious. I wonder if the parthenogenesis theory is correct--"

My bladder is moved aside and I feel the urge to go. Can't move, though, as I'm often reminded here. That's probably for the best.

If I could move, these people would probably be dead and I wouldn't mean it.

"Curious! I will admit - this is unusual. I've seen nothing like this in all my years of study. This will be an interesting addition to the literature. Better take samples - if there's viable genetic material to be had here, it may be possible to grow plants of our own."

There is a sharp pain. Several sharp pains. Knives drops pieces of me into several small jars of formalin, held out to him. Offerings to our terrible God.

And at once I become Tesla. I am my sister. I want to scream and scream but there is nothing to do to avoid this terrible fate. I will become changed by this, irradiated, mutilated, until my blood is overgrown with bacteria like mold on bread and my teeth fall out and my eyes cry blood.

My eyes already cry blood.

OH DEAR ANON, I just squealed with joy. Thank you SO much for sending me this part, I would LOVE to discuss it.

Vash is aware that he's hallucinating to a degree, but it doesn't stop it at all. He's in that shitty lucid space, you know how you get when you know you're in a dream but the dream still feels real? Also the "I wish they wouldn't" has a double meaning - not only does it feel grossnasty to feel your intestines moving, but if they wouldn't be moving if he were dead.

Parthenogenesis is the idea that offspring can be created without an egg being fertilized [see: Jurassic Park]. The existence of Independent plants is understandably a huge mystery, and this doctor has some theories. And maybe some plans to make more plants, if his theory is correct. I left this part intentionally vague, as Vash himself wouldn't necessarily know what he's got going on inside re: reproductive organs. I know a lot of people hc him as a cis or trans human as far as anatomy goes, and I enjoy reading both, but I personally like to take the weird alien route and then I have the freedom to do whatever I want. And, leaving it vague on purpose allows the reader to make their own conclusions, and that's where the fun is!

I also don't really know where I stand on the whole question of "can Vash reproduce and if so how / with humans or not?" and this fic does technically exist within the Bluebells universe for me (in which he and Meryl, ya know) and I'm like can they have kids???? I don't know and I'm too afraid to ask! I personally get squicked by repro stuff sometimes (yay christian pro-life trauma) so I don't want to dive too deep into it. Maybe one day I'll decide what to do with them.

As far as the medicine goes here, yeah, if you poke around on your bladder (or someone else does), you will feel like you need to pee. Try poking your bellybutton - you might feel the same effect. Weird fun fact. Also also, Formaldehyde isn't the uhhh best fixative for keeping genetic material intact? But I think this may be the only option this doctor has for keeping samples. At the very least, it's a good solution to keep tissue in for microscopic examination later. I didn't flesh out this doc's backstory too much (and I called him "Dr. Motherfucker" in my notes) but I imagine he has access to a pretty high-tech lab. Maybe he found one from an old SEEDS ship.

The doc saying "we might be able to make our own plants" immediately complicates Vash's situation. He's going to side with anything that helps human survival even if he has to sacrifice himself for it. This time quite literally. The "offerings to our terrible God" also calls to the other paragraph in this fic about Vash being the sacrificial golden calf. Knives is both the executor and the (self-appointed) god in this scenario, depending on how you look at it. Or maybe god is humanity - again, the doctor both is and isn't Knives. Tesla was the first sacrifice and Vash can't help but think of her, here in an extremely similar situation to hers. I could go on and on about the metaphors here but Trigun really plays every possible angle re: biblical allegory so it would get complicated fast.

The final line is just so... if the experimentation and medical abuse transforms you into something terrible, but you were already a terrible monster to begin with, what does it matter? How much are you actually changed?

Vash is not doing well in this fic :)

[musecaravan-info]

Arthur Cirrakos

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." ~ Aesop ~

Basic Information

FACE/BODY CLAIM: Alexis Georgoulis

AGE: Born near the beginning of the Aegean Iron Age (i.e. old)

EYES: Dark Brown

HAIR: Dark Brown; an intriguing mix of waves and curls, which creates a slightly 'ruffled' look on mosst days

HEIGHT: 6'1

PRIMARY OUTFIT: Casual - jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of sandals whenever he can get away with it. His shirts ususally have to do with animals - sometimes they're serious, sometimes they're cute, and sometimes they're funny. Bears and puns are two of his favorties things to have on a shirt.

Personality

Arthur has a very laid-back and good-natured attitude most of the time. It's difficult to get on his 'bad side' because he doesn't really have one. He's a very firm believer in the Golden Rule - don't do to others what you wouldn't want done to you. He may be a bit 'people shy,' but he isn't likely to turn away anyone who seems to be in need. Yes, he can say 'no' when necessary, but he always weighs his options before resorting to that choice.

Powers & Weaknesses

Arthur's affinity for animals is a gift so powerful that it attracted the attention of the gods. He shares an empathic bond with all of the animal kingdom, and since he was very young, has used that ability to help those who had no way to speak for themselves.

Arthur is incapable of getting lost. If he has a destination in his mind, he will always know the exact route to take in order to get him there the quickest.

Arthur is a were-bear in the strictest sense fo the word. He can't shift his shape at will. From the moment a full moon rises until the moment it sets, he's forced into his ursine form. Sometimes this is a power... but often it's a weakness since he has no control over it.

Arthur is truly immortal; if he dies, he just wakes up again somewhere nearby, fully healed and unscarred. It's a side-effect of the spell cast on him by Circe. To Arthur, this is a weakness. While he's not ready to die just yet, he doesn't like the fact that the choice has been taken from him.

Romance

Always being on the move means Arthur rarely looks for or expects long-term relationships with anyone. However, if he's attracted to someone (and it seems the attraction might be returned) he'll often try to test the waters and see what happens. He doesn't want there to be any broken hearts or hard feelings when he moves on.

For any verse where he's already settled, a long-term romance is what he's wanting. However, if your muse is mortal, he might be cautious about starting anything. Amphion's death will always be an open wound, and the thought of losing anyone else the same way haunts him.

Where to Find Him

Arthur is a traveling vet, so he can usually be found all over the place. Ideas for a 'first meeting' could be places such as:

Animal clinics

Animal shelters

Local parks

Pet stores

etc.

If you're interested in how to meet him in a specific verse, just ask and we can chat for a bit. :)

Verses

Just because a verse isn't listed here doesn't mean I'm not interested in writing it. I adore all kinds of AUs, and welcome the chance to get creative with my muses. If you've seen a verse that another of my muses has, and you'd like to see this muse in something similar, let me know. You can also check out my 'Plot Ideas' tag, too. ^_^

Main Verse:

To avoid repitition, Go Here.

Fallout Verse

Arthur had watched the news with horror that day - October 23, 2077. And then he’d died, along with countless others. But you can’t kill an immortal - not permanently. He awoke several days later in the rubble of what had been his RV. The days that followed were like something out of a nightmare. The radiation from the bombs was doing unspeakable things to people. Arthur tried to help where he could - and sometimes he was thanked. But more than once he was stabbed in the back for whatever food or supplies he had on him and left for dead. Humans. So many of them out for no one but themselves. But each time it happened, he got back up and kept trying to help.

He also tried to help the animals, poor creatures that had no idea what was happening to them as their bodies became irradiated. Arthur did what he could for them, feeling his patron god’s power in every act of kindness he performed. It wasn’t much, but it was something. And so the world moved forward - in the ways that it could. Arthur put together a small caravan - just himself and the animals he managed to gather along the way. He took care of them… and bred them for selling. After all, even an immortal needs to earn a living. It wasn’t long before he became well known in the area as an honest trader with the best livestock around. Unfortunately, it was word of mouth like that which had ever Raider gang in the area trying to take his livelihood away.

It was the third attack that did him in. Literally and figuratively. He awoke from a gunshot to the head, to find all of his animals either dead or stolen. He got them back, of course. And left a VERY blunt message for other raider gangs in the area. Then he took his animals and left. At first, he didn’t know where he was going. Just… away. He didn’t want to deal with humans anymore. He just wanted his animals, and maybe a plot of land for himself… as far away from civilization as possible. It took a lot of traveling, and a lot of trouble, but although the gods had been relatively silent since the bomb, Arthur could still feel Hermes guiding him to what he was looking for.

Then, one day, after several of trekking through the remains of what had once been a lush forest, he found it. A small plot of land seemingly untouched by the fallout. It was perfect. So Arthur got to work. He built a small cabin for himself and housing for his remaining animals. The dogs and cats were remarkably resilient to the radiation; his hooved companions weren’t so lucky, but they seemed to have stabilized, something he was grateful for. The chickens were more aggressive, but still seemed to accept him. All in all, the farm was an odd one, but he thanked both Hermes and Pan for their help in leading him here. This was the life he was ready for now… even if it had been thrust upon him so suddenly.

Farm Verse

In this verse Arthur has finally decided to settle down on a farm. Sometimes it's a small farm and sometimes it's a big farm depending on what I think might work best for the RP. In both verses Arthur has an over-sized farmhouse and one of the rooms is made up for rentals via sites like AirBnB.

In the 'big farm' scenario, Arthur oversees things, and has helpers to do most of the work. All of his workers are nymphs/fauns/dryads/etc. who work for him of their own free will. He has a decently sized farmer's market that attracts a welcomed level of tourist and local attention. Most importantly, Arthur does his best to live a good life, and protect all of the animals (and other creatures) in his care.

In the 'small farm' scenario, Arthur is usually just getting started. He hasn't owned the farm for very long and just has a small handful of animals/crops for his own personal needs. He possibly has dreams of something bigger, but for now he's content to keep things small.

Prohibition Verse

Currently a Private Verse

It's sometime in the mid-1920's, and America is smack dab in the middle of Prohibition. Arthur is a cop who operates on the edges of the law. His best friend runs a speakeasy, and he does his best to keep the guy out of jail (and safe from any 'competition.')

Current/Ongoing Threads

If your thread with Arthur isn't listed here it's probably because it's been long enough since your last reply that I thought you'd dropped it. Message me to let me know you're still interested, and I'll happily add you to the list (with no pressure for a reply.) ♡

Ash/Eric/Mike/et al:

Birds of a Feather (Main Verse)Wheeling and Dealing (Prohibition Verse)

Dias:

Where Your Story Begins (2nd Century CE)

Jack:

Civilization is Fine (Fallout Verse)

Completed Threads

I don't have many of these on any of my blogs, but RPs I've actually completed deserve to be acknowledged, I think. ;)

Decimus:

Rules of Survival (Age of Sail)

Stuff That's Good to Know Before Starting a Thread

THIS is a good post to read that has some additional information.

Links

Please keep in mind, this blog is an ongoing work in progress. Not all of these links may lead somewhere, but they're here because they link to potential tags for this muse.

All Things Arthur

Headcanons

Drabbles

All Threads

Ask Replies

Meme Replies

Aesthetics

Face

Special Links

Original Blog

Arthur's Appearance

Arthur's Home

Arthur's Relationships

Return To Full Muse List

[bbq-hawks-wings]

BBQ rambledumps for the first time in a while. Been running D&D.

What's up, my beautiful fellow clowns, how we doing today? I just logged in on desktop mode and saw a new message in my inbox only to discover it's a porn bot and they're sending videos AND strange URLs directly now. YAY!

Thank God, blurring content from users who don't follow you was an actual improvements made to this hellsite after years of fumbling features. Progress is progress.

Anyway, I originally came here intending to write about my Fodlan D&D campaign because I'm due to show some actual creative capacity here for once and prove I haven't completely gelatinized into a lump of depression and exhaustion. So yeah, more nonsense under the cut.

Nice, the icons have been switched around a bit - they're a little easier to read now.

SO! I wanted to two-fold introduce the campaign setting and talk about my players/characters - whom I will be referring to by their characters' names exclusively (except maybe Atlas) - because I'm actually having a blast with it all, and maybe some of you will appreciate the various eccentricities of this gaggle at my table, too.

First, the setting:

I...

LOVE.

FODLAN.

Idegaf about Fire Emblem as a larger franchise or series - this PARTICULAR story is EXACTLY the kind of thing that makes all the happy chemicals in my brain go brrrrrrrrr.

There's drama, political intrigue, romance, deep lore, references to various real-world myths, references to various real-world PEOPLE, repeating thematic motifs, a complex and nuanced look at conflict and war, a complex and nuanced look at religion and history, AND THE OUTFITS ARE SPECTACULAR?!?!?!

And if I kept thinking about it we'd be here all day.

One of the hardest things for me as a very n00b DM is that I know most of the power of the game and enjoyment for my players comes from the world they exist and play in. If I don't have a good grasp of how all the strategic pieces fit together across the map, how am I going to let my players roam and interact with it like it's always been their own idea and not me actually scrambling to slap something together that's satisfying for them while also not completely toppling my campaign?

And here I have not only this entire RPG I adore and already want to know like the back of my hand, that has characters that I delight in mimicking and writing for, that has nearly all the wiki knowledge I could ask for, but I also have the PERFECT excuse to write my Golden Route and let all my little chess pieces live happily ever after somewhere, AND there's a campaign setting already made for 5e!

Is the DM set up to have a good time?

Yes

Absolutely

With my setting chosen, I now had to figure out the various big plot flags to hit that would put it on course for the ending I want. Some big considerations I particularly kept in mind included:

Edelgard MUST start the conflict. There is never a scenario in this multiverse (according to canon obv) where she does not strike first because it's in her character to strike first for both her own survival as well as to protect those she's taken charge of. The second she thinks she has what it takes to confidently take her next move before her opponent the plot lurches forward full speed. This is what predominately sets her apart from Claude who is quite similar about the lengths he's willing to go to win but he's typically much more reactionary while Edel is aggressively preemptive.

If I don't want Edelgard to have all of Fodlan immediately in a standoff for survival that just looks like the other games with the other nations because of the complications that TWSITD throw into the plot, the truth of the Nabataen race HAS to come to light to her before anyone else. That means that she has to know BEFORE she retakes the Empire for her own regime. This means a BIG MESS for the Church of Seiros to deal with start-to-finish over the course of the campaign.

Going along with the previous point, once the true nature of the Church, the Children of the Goddess, and just what ACTUAL Fodlan history is (and remember, Edel hates these people pretending they're divine when they're clearly not, she is NOT putting up with that nonsense), Faerghus is going to be PISSED even if there's complicated feelings about how the nobility came to be, and Claude's scheming will get kicked into overdrive. There's no way I can't see it happening. Even if the Nabateans have FULL support and protection of Edelgard (which they will sooner than later) the bloody history between them and the nobility of the Kingdom will reach a crescendo and the Nabateans will have a LOT to answer for regarding their involvement in Fodlan history.

Where I want it to end is for all of them to overcome Thales and TWSITD with the help of Shez and Byleth. As a result, Sothis will be fully revived, she'll reward and bestow special blessings to the entire cast, and then she'll ascend into the heavens once again - but this time taking her hand of protection off of the world, opening the setting up to "D&D proper" so the players can keep playing in the sandbox they've grown attached to if they want, but they get way more stuff to play with now and we can actually use the core books for more than just basic rules YAY!

With that all set up in the back of our heads, let's introduce our players - all of whom besides Atlas is completely blind to the original plot (MWUAHAHAHAHAHA):

Umbrae: A knight from the Holy Kingdom of Faerghus, Umbrae's father was one of the the victims of the Tragedy of Duscur. Discontent with the ambiguous non-answers that have been found regarding the massacre, Umbrae is on a mission to discover the truth of what happened and why - no matter what sordid secrets may be revealed in the process - so that the chapter of anguish and uncertainty for the nation can come to a close and healing can properly begin.

Godfrey: Originally from the Adrestian Empire, Godfrey was an aimless wandering sell-sword until he met the love of his life, Josephine - a monk of the Church of Seiros whose tender kindness brought light and hope into the lives of those she touched. She joined him with his platoon of fighters during the outbreak of plague in the Kingdom to treat the sick and afflicted along the way; but no good deed goes unpunished. While Godfrey and his men were called away to respond to news of a threat, the camp was attacked by those who feared their involvement was spreading the sickness. Godfrey returned too late to save his wife and unborn child and has since sworn an oath to the Knights of Seiros, now once again aimless in his purpose with nowhere to place his grief and anger except upon the heads of the wicked with the edge of his sword.

Booferd: A lowly thief from the Adrestrian Empire - there's not a lot to Booferd yet because he's only been to the first session and has been stuck studying to keep his GPA up. He's fantastic at this game, though, and I'll make sure he gets the chance to have a great time whenever he can play. He called Balthus "ball-face" in RP and he's going to get inspiration points for that.

Atlas: Hailing from the far-off land of Morfis, Atlas is an escaped experiment victim of TWSITD on a mission to save his fellow victims still trapped back at the lab and wipe the scourge of the Agarthans off the face of the earth. Unlike the Fodlan branches of the Agarthans, this base in Morfis raised humans like lab rats a la The Promised Neverland to simulate and study various conditions and outcomes their human experiments underwent. Atlas, an exceptional subject, escaped and eventually found his way to the docks of Adrestia where Hubert found him - seemingly incomprehensible and insane at first but then deceptively brilliant upon patient inspection. Hubert secretly scooped him off the street before he made more ruckus, cleaned him up and trained him, and then planted the unnerving foreigner into Garreg Mach as his personal mole (because Rhea loves picking up strays) - seemingly unconnected in every way while funneling information, secrets, and the nifty little gadgets he makes to the young man and his emperor who promise him a proper payment for his services.

This post is getting long and I need to get the kids up from their nap. I have more, especially since we're about 4 sessions in, so I'll probably make a new post soon. Feel free to send any ideas on how to tag this.

[blurrymango]

Ending one- Heaven/attic ending.

In which the key on your parents’ dresser leads to the attic. You’ve gone the whole game doing the right thing and with as little violence as possible, keeping your twin close by your side to help you. You and your twin approach the door at the back of the house, the last one left to be unlocked. 

Blue: “This has been hellish, eh?” 

Red: “...”

Blue: “But we’re still holding eachother’s hands. Not a single drop of blood, too!”

You laugh. You and your twin approach the door, unlocking it and walking up the stairs. You’re now in the attic, light floods through the window up here and dust particles dance lazily. The light is golden, the floor’s are brown wood. You move to the opposite end of the room, and instead of a wall there’s blue-grey fog and and the floors turn to clouds. When you’ve moved till the screen is all fog and clouds, you and your twin sit down.

Blue: “It’s peaceful here.”

Red: “Creepy.”

Blue: “Quiet. No one to bother us.”

Red: “Lonely.”

Blue: “It’s perfect!”

Cut to black.

Ending two- Basement/hell ending.

Get the key, approach the door. Only difference is, you and your twin have spent the whole game with an aggressive attitude, murder and bad actions and all that, together with glee. 

Blue: “Where do you think those folks will go? Now that they’ve died twice?”

Red: “...”

Blue: “I think I know where we’re going. But that’s ok if we’re together.”

You approach the door and unlock it, descending down the stairs. The basement is dark and made of stone. There’s a leak in the corner next to a blazing furnace. You move to the other side of the room, predictably there’s smoke and fire and blackened stone. Walking till the hellscape fills the screen you’re then approached by a demon.

Blue: “Should we kill it?”

You cough, nodding. The smoke making you miserable, you’re already beginning to sweat from the flames.

The screen cuts to black after that.

Ending three: more of the same/stuck.

You know the drill. This time you’ve done a combination of the first two routes, good and bad together with your twin, together with your twin most or some of the time.

Blue: “Been a wild ride.”

Red: “...”

Blue: “I wonder where we’re going next.”

Opening the door leads you back at the front, outside of the house. Trying to get back in will result in the door disappearing.

Blue: ”We’re stuck?”

Red: “Strange.”

Going off property you’re prompted with-

If you leave, you can’t come back. Will you continue?

>Yes.

>No.

Choosing yes, the game goes to black, ending.

Choosing no, you’ll be able to go back to previous areas and explore and whatnot. No changing the ending no matter what you do though. 

Blue: “I’m just glad I have you. I can bare it then.”

Red: “Yes.”

Exiting the game after this point is an automatic game over and you’ll restart.

Ending four- garden/no twin ending.

Doesn’t matter what else you’ve been doing, if you’ve left your twin behind at every chance you’ve gotten, you’ll get this ending, or a version of it. As you walk to the door, your twin trips you, taking the key.

Blue: “You’ve been so distant this whole time.”

Red: “...”

Blue: “You want space away from me? Fine.”

You then enter a fight, against your own twin this time. It is very short.

Attempting to kill your twin-

Blue: “You really want me gone this badly? Have you really hated me all this time? That’s cold. I understand though, I guess.”

You kill them afterwards. Taking the key and opening the door, it leads to a garden, sunny and lively, your parents are back there. Dad at the grill, mom trimming weeds.

Dad: “Woah there kiddo, you’re not supposed to be walking around this much after your surgery.”

Red: “Sorry...”

Mom: “Sit down sweetie, you look sick. Are you alright?”

You sit in the grass, your mom walks over and hands you a blue rose. You begin to cry.

Mom: “Oh honey what’s wrong? I thought you liked blue.”

You begin to explain, but you’re a mess and all you can say is “my twin”. Your mother is confused. 

You never had a twin, apparently.

The screen fades to black.

Attempting to take the key-

Blue: “Why do you want it so badly? What’s gotten into you anyway? Why do you have to have the damn key?”

Red: “Open.”

Blue: “For ffuck’s sake. So adamant. I’ll open the door.”

Your twin is the one who opens the door, you walk through and they try to follow.

Blue: “Wait hey no I’m stuck. You’re leaving me behind aren’t you! This whole time you’ve been leaving me behind and acting like I’m not there it’s like I don’t even exist-”

The door shuts.

Screen fades to black.

Apologizing to your twin-

Blue: “You’re sorry? You’ve never sorry for anything, you asshole. You think you act like I’m nothing and expect me to be ok with that?  Not anymore.”

Instead, your twin kills you. Opening the door, it leads to a garden, sunny and lively, your parents are back there. Dad at the grill, mom trimming weeds.

Dad: “Woah there kiddo, you’re not supposed to be walking around this much after your surgery.”

Blue: “...”

Mom: “Sit down sweetie, you look sick. Are you alright?”

Your twin sits in the grass, your mom walks over and gives them a red rose. Your twin scowls. 

Mom: “Oh honey what’s wrong? I thought you liked red.”

Your twin sighs. Is this how it feels to be the real one? It doesn’t feel good. No, they feel hollow, empty without you. The attention feels overwhelming. They liked it better when they had you with them. When it was just the two of you.

The screen fades to black.

Ok that’s all the ending ideas I have! I’m sure I’ve said them before but I honestly don’t remember!

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

have a sample of my silly little (read: unnecessarily complex) Azure Moon AU wherein Claude and Dimitri, fresh off their success at Derdriu, are sent back to the beginning of their Academy days. 

[yeraskier]

“i didnt know where else to go” (taken from this prompt list, for @bloodbuzz-smartypants)

There’s a knock at the door.

Jaskier’s wearing his most charming smile as he stands to answer it— this time of night means that it must be Lambert.

It’s isn’t.

“Geralt.”

“Hi.”

For a beat, all Jaskier can think about is how desperately he hopes Lambert doesn’t show tonight. Then, he takes in Geralt’s appearance— the dip of his head, the hollowness in his eyes, the clench of his hands— and suddenly, nothing else really matters.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks, giving Geralt room to enter before the man in question responds.

Geralt takes that invitation, and then invites himself to Jaskier’s bed. Where he’s sitting when Jaskier turns to face him after closing the door. Jaskier decides to not comment on that.

“So…”

He’s quiet for awhile and Jaskier does nothing to fill the silence.

Things have been... off between them. They haven’t been bad, per se. Geralt did apologize and he did welcome Jaskier into his home. Geralt does still trust him since he trusted Jaskier to bring Ciri back to Kaer Morhen.

The issue, he supposes, is that he doesn’t know if he still trusts Geralt. 

Jaskier trusts the witcher to protect him from physical harm, he always has. He trusts him with his body, and he always will.

But when it comes to his mind and soul, when it comes to his heart, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever trust Geralt with them again. It’s made him distant.

So, things haven’t been the same. They haven’t been the same. They’re quiet in each other’s presence, they tip toe around one another. It’s suffocating. Every time Jaskier’s in a room with Geralt, all he can do is ponder over the quickest way to get out of the room.

And now he’s in a room with Geralt, and he can’t exactly find an escape route here given that it’s his room, which he... willingly invited Geralt into.

“Geralt, would you like to tell me what this is all about?”

Truthfully, he’s prepared to not receive any bit of enlightenment at all, so he’s more than mildly shocked when Geralt actually speaks. 

“I just... I haven’t been... I needed—” Geralt’s grunts, hands forming fists against his thighs, “I don’t know... I just wanted to get away from my own thoughts for awhile and I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t know where else to go.”

There’s that familiar pang in his chest. Jaskier refuses to look into it. 

“What happened?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Geralt tells him, “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“I’m sure Yennefer has potions that can help,” Jaskier suggests. He regrets the words even before he takes note of the sudden tension in Geralt’s shoulders. 

“I can go if you don’t want me here.”

Jaskier should take this out, he should tell him to leave.

He doesn’t want Geralt here. He doesn’t want Geralt anywhere near him because every time he’s around, Jaskier can feel the wall he carefully constructed over the past few months crumbling beneath that golden gaze.

He doesn’t want Geralt here because he always wants him here. He always wants him. That’s the problem.

Jaskier sighs, “you can stay.” He moves to the bed at last, leaving only a few inches between them as he takes a seat beside Geralt, “you can stay, and we can talk about whatever’s on your mind.”

Geralt levels him with kind eyes. "Can we just sit here for a moment?”

“Yes,” Jaskier says, “though I kind of want to lay down. My back aches from training today,” he explains, “if that’s okay with you?”

It’s a stupid question. It’s his room and his bed. He can do what he wants here. Yet here he is, bending over backwards to please the witcher in his own space— another thing to add to the list of things Jaskier will absolutely not be exploring tonight.

Geralt nods once and scoots over, giving Jaskier room to spread out on the side nearest to the wall. A sigh of relief breaks free as his outstretched body presses into the mattress. He basks in it for just a moment, before cracking an eye open to see Geralt watching him.

“Lay with me.” The words have left his mouth before the thought fully formed in his head, but he doesn’t retract them.

The corners of Geralt’s lips twitch into an almost, barely-there, maybe smile, before he shifts to lay down as well.

They aren’t touching but they are facing each other, and the way Geralt’s watching him feels oddly intimate. 

It’s a dangerous thought, and what he’s feeling being this close to Geralt is a dangerous thing to feel, but he’s helpless to it. He always has been. 

“Thank you,” Geralt says softly.

Helpless, he thinks. He always will be.

Jaskier smiles. “Always.”

[sergeantsporks]

Writing Request: Belos orders the previous Golden Guard to bring him Darius' palisman (thinking the Golden guard got too soft and too close to his mentee, so Belos has to spoil their relationship and test the Guard's loyality).

Grab it.

Darius’ palisman was tantalizingly close, sitting on his shoulder.

Grab it.

Hunter shook himself, reaching under his hood and giving his forelock a tug to snap himself out of it.

You can’t take his palisman, he’ll be devastated.

He’ll never speak to you again.

Maybe that was the point?

No, no, it’s just that… Uncle needs more palisman. That’s nothing new, and this is… this is an easy one in reach, hypothetically, no need to go anywhere.

Not that you can take it from him.

And if you were going to do it, you couldn’t just grab it off of his shoulder, you’d have to wait until he left it alone, snatch it, pretend it must have run away because that’s what creatures of wild magic are good at, and—no, what are you thinking?!

Hunter tugged on his own hair again, and Darius gave him an odd look. “Are you okay?”

“Peachy,” Hunter squeaked.

Just don’t look at the palisman.

Palisman? What palisman! It’s just me and my mentee, doing mentor and mentee things!

There are no palisman.

There are no orders looming over your head to bring Belos a palisman or else

“Aaaaaaalright. You said there was something you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah, I…” Hunter sighed. “Look, I… won’t be around forever.”

“Yes. I know that. No one lives forever. You’re not… planning on dying any time soon, though, are you?”

Not sure I get a choice in the matter.

“Well, no. Not planning on it. But… it’s not just that. I mean, there’s a lot of stuff that could happen. I might have to quit this whole mentoring thing in order to run more missions, or, I mean, you’re not going to need me forever, and you’re not joining the emperor’s coven, so our paths are… they’re going to separate.” Hunter rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, I don’t know, I just want you to be prepared, and…”

“Hey.” Darius nudged him. “I get it. We all have to grow up. I know I can’t be in this student phase forever, and I don’t WANT to be a student forever. You’re not, uh. You’re not sending me away just yet, though, are you?”

Hunter’s hand twitched as his gaze caught on the palisman sitting on Darius’ shoulder. “No. Not yet.”

Xxx

It was easy. Too easy. Darius had disappeared into the library shelves and left his palisman guarding his books. It was almost like he wanted Hunter to take it.

Hunter sat down across from the little creature, staring at it. “You want him to be safe, don’t you?” he demanded of the palisman, “You want him to be okay. To have a future. To achieve his goals. That’s what you were carved for. That’s your purpose. That’s—that’s what you’re supposed to want.”

It stared at him, unblinking.

Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “And, I mean, if that’s what you want, well, then, me taking you should be—it should be easy, right? If I—if I don’t, then Belos might separate us, and that—Darius would be upset at that! If I don’t, then Darius’ future will be over, he’ll never progress, he’ll be sent away, and—and—this would be what’s best for his future, so you should be okay with this.”

A small head tilt.

“You’re just—you’re holding him back. You’re hurting his chances, hurting… hurting… you’re hurting him.”

Hunter’s voice cracked, and he put his head in his hands. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he groaned, “I don’t know—this should be so easy, right? Take the palisman to Belos, prove my loyalty, prove that Darius isn’t en route to becoming a wild witch. Prove that I can—I can save him from himself. From… I don’t know.”

The palisman nudged his arm.

“I don’t know,” he repeated, “I don’t know what I’m fighting for, I don’t know what I’m fighting against, it’s like I’m swinging at shadows, planning against threats that aren’t actually there or else are being planted there. It used to be so easy, but…” Hunter pushed one finger against the palisman, letting it grip him. “I guess I just don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“Well, look at that, the two of you are getting along!”

Darius emerged from the shelves, clutching a stack of books. He set it down on the table, scooping up his palisman. “I thought you didn’t trust palisman,” he teased.

“I don’t,” Hunter grumbled, “They’re made of wild magic, and wild magic is dangerous.”

And yet…

“Mhm.” Darius cocked his head, listening to his palisman. “Awwwww, teach, I didn’t know you cared so much about my future.” He wrinkled his nose. “You’ve been awfully serious about it for the last couple of days. Is everything alright?”

“I…” Hunter locked eyes with the palisman, its gaze tearing into him. “Yeah. Just… trying to think ahead. Plan our next moves.”

“Oh, yeah? Got any ideas?”

“Nothing solid. Couple of things I want to look into, figure some stuff out for myself first. You know?”

“Like what?”

“Ah, the usual. What I want out of life. Where I want to be in a few years. Who I’m fighting for.” He reached out, ruffling Darius’ hair to his pupil’s yelps of protest. “Nothing huge.”

“And when you figure it out?”

“You’ll be the first person I let know.”

[robininthelabyrinth]

🧿🤠🐇🍲🍯: Lan Wangji does not think it’s safe to raise A-Yuan in Cloud Recesses after the Lans participated in the killing of his zhiji and the entire Burial Mounds community (or more accurately that it’s not safe while he himself is in seclusion and can’t watch over A-Yuan, at least) so he delivers A-Yuan to the one person who he knows did not stand against Wei Wuxian (and got away with it, bc this person has never stood against anything, since standing takes effort): Nie Huaisang.

Little Side Door - ao3

Nie Huaisang’s rooms in the Unclean Realm had a little side door that no one but him ever used.

They hadn’t originally. The Unclean Realm was a fortress, designed to maximize protection and defense; there was no better place for keeping things safe by locking them away. While it had its fair share of boltholes and escape routes, they were not common and universally difficult to access lest the enemy learn of them and use them to their advantage. Even the layout of their open spaces were carefully planned lest the attack come from the sky, a concern that only cultivators had, and not about how they themselves could escape – after all, weren’t they all Nie, ready to die rather than endure dishonor?

The little side door that led to Nie Huaisang’s room opened onto a small rock garden, left to grow wild with weeds rather than reveal its presence to more people. It existed only because his brother had ordered it constructed by those he trusted most, all in secret in the dark of the night. He had never explained why he had gone to such lengths to create such an unwelcome and inauspicious place, but then, he hadn’t needed to – Nie Huaisang had been there, too, when his father had descended into madness and they had been trapped in the familial quarters with no way out that did not take them through him. If his brother had been the one to brave his father’s rage directly, Nie Huaisang had been the one stuck in a small space that was only not claustrophobic because it was so painfully familiar.

Now, though his father was long dead and gone, Nie Huaisang had a little side door.

A little side door, and a little garden that almost no one knew about; in combination with the saber that his brother forced him to learn and the golden core he had so begrudgingly formed, he now had a way to reach the sky and the illusive freedom it represented – the freedom to flee and leave his home behind.

If it ever happens again – his brother had said once, the closest he had ever come to speaking of it.

He did not finish his sentence, as Nie Huaisang had thrown his plate into his face and stormed off, steaming mad and close to tears. He did not raise the subject a second time.

Nie Huaisang did not often use his little side door.

Although he enjoyed gardens, he preferred the aviary he’d constructed, or one of the myriad of well-tended gardens in the main part of the sect; even the vegetable gardens out back beside the kitchens were far more welcoming than that sparse straggle of land. He’d only ever spent time there when he was a child and in desperate need of some quiet, wanting to avoid adults with their arguments and their miseries; he’d taken some friends there because he thought it might impress them, but it hadn’t, and anyway his brother had put a stop to that soon enough.

He didn’t even think about the little side door, most days. It was just a part of the room, a small tucked away corner with nothing in it. Nothing to think about.

And then, of course, years after he’d put it out of his mind entirely, there came a terrible banging noise at that little side door, like someone was kicking at it furiously from the outside.

Nie Huaisang nearly fell over sideways in his scramble to get up, and then once again when he realized where the noise was coming from – almost no one knew about his side door and its little garden, and so no one had ever come to him through it. Who would be knocking now…?

He opened it.

Lan Wangji, white robes stained with blood and cheeks bright with fever, shoved something into his arms. “You have a child now,” he said through bitten lips. “Congratulations. He is called A-Yuan. I entrust you with his care, for my sect cannot be trusted with it.”

And then he turned and staggered away, mounting up on Bichen and flying off before Nie Huaisang could say anything – before he could even finish searching his memories and recalling that yes, in fact, Lan Wangji had been one of the friends he had shown the side door to, years and years before, and thus knew how to find it. Before he could even start processing the thousands of thoughts that had spring to life, fully formed, at all the information he’d just received: the bloody robes, the desperation, the reference to the Lan sect – the Lan sect! – being somehow untrustworthy…

He looked down at his arms.

“Congratulations,” he echoed blankly. “I have a child now.”

The child blinked up at him, and then smiled.

-

“Da-ge!” Nie Husiang howled, rushing into the sect leader’s study where his brother was doing work – luckily it wasn’t receiving hours and he wasn’t in the main hall, as that would have been unfortunate. “Da-ge, you have to help me! I have a child now!”

His brother stared at him, expression blank and mouth slightly agape. The brush in his hand dripping ink onto a now-wasted piece of paper.

“Huaisang,” he said after a moment. “What the fuck.”

Nie Huaisang nodded furiously.

“Where did you get – how – who – what did you do?!”

“I am currently unable to disclose any details,” Nie Huaisang said promptly even as his brother tossed aside the brush and got up, striding over with a storm brewing in his face. “All I can say is that I have to raise this child now. By which I mean, you have to help me raise this child now; I can’t raise children! I’m not mature enough to raise a child!”

“No kidding! Why would someone entrust – to you…” Nie Mingjue trailed off, looking down at the child with a frown that shifted from disbelieving irritation to concern. He pressed his hand to the child’s forehead. “Huaisang, this child has a high fever. We need to get him to the medical wing at once – is that blood?”

“Not his, I don’t think?”

“I don’t want to know,” his brother decided. “Move.”

Some time later, they were both sitting next to the bed in one of the spare rooms in the family quarters; Nie Huaisang thought it might even have been the same one that he’d used when he was very young. A-Yuan was sleeping, and Nie Mingjue was still holding his little hand in his own, having been clocked as the oversize comfort animal that he not-so-secretly was from the very first moment A-Yuan laid eyes on him.

The doctors had declared A-Yuan’s fever to be very severe, but they had applied plenty of medicine – the Lan sect might have more esoteric healing techniques, but there wasn’t anything like the Nie sect when it came to standard medicine for injuries and illnesses associated with the battlefield, and despite A-Yuan’s tender age Nie Huaisang would be willing to bet that his injuries were from a battlefield. They were confident that A-Yuan would make a full recovery, body and mind both intact, although they warned that his memory of the past might be impacted.

Nie Huaisang had thought about all that blood that wasn’t his, of Lan Wangji pale-faced and wild-eyed, and decided that a little bit of forgetting might not be so bad after all.

“Are you going to tell me anything more,” his brother said after a while. “Or should I just give up now?”

Nie Huaisang leaned over and patted his knee. “It’s good that you know your limitations.”

His brother rolled his eyes.

“I can’t believe this is my life,” he remarked.

“What part?” Nie Huaisang asked, curious. “The fact that we have a kid now, because obviously we’re keeping him? Or the fact that someone gave a kid to me?”

“Both,” his brother decided. “Definitely both.”

-

“His name’s A-Yuan,” Nie Huaisang said. “Apparently.”

“Well,” his brother said. “Obviously that won’t do.”

-

Nie Huaisang had the ability to be sneaky when he wanted to be. It wasn’t a matter of stealth, he had explained to his brother, but sneakiness– a completely different concept. Stealth suggested that he was doing something to conceal himself and required skills and talent, or else a lot of practice, and obviously Nie Huaisang was not going to go in for either of those.

Sneakiness, though…

He didn’t need people not to be able to see him in order to be sneaky. He just needed them not to care about him, or wonder where he was.

“Psst,” he said, knocking on the window to the rooms where Lan Wangji was purportedly practicing seclusion. “Psst! Lan Zhan!”

Lan Wangji had given him a child. They were definitely past the ‘Lan-er-gongzi’ stage.

“Lan Zhan!” he rapped at the window with his fan. “We need a courtesy name!”

There was some sounds from within the jingshi, mostly stumbling around. Nie Huaisang waited patiently, and after a few moments the window opened and Lan Wangji stared out at him. He was as pale as a ghost with lips as red as blood, and very clearly not in seclusion at all, but rather in the midst of healing whatever wounds had left him bloody – he probably shouldn’t have gotten out of bed to answer.

Oh, well. Too late for regret now.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Lan Wangji said, voice dull and eyes blank as he stared at Nie Huaisang. It was unclear if he meant in the Cloud Recesses generally, or here in particular, interrupting his ‘seclusion’.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nie Huaisang said, scowling at him. “We need a courtesy name! A courtesy name for the child, you hear me? You know, of course, that Qinghe Nie don’t use personal names, not even for children – certainlynot for children older than their first year. It’d be a complete giveaway that he’s not organically ours if we call him something like A-Yuan.”

Lan Wangji raised a hand to pinch his nose. “Please go away.”

“Courtesy name, Lan Zhan. I mean, I may be the one who’ll be raising him, but please think carefully: do you really want meto be the one naming him?”

“…call him Sizhui.”

“Sizhui,” Nie Huaisang repeated. “With the characters…?”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“Uh, no,” Nie Huaisang said. “I need a bettercourtesy name. Are you joking?”

“Nie Huaisang. Go away.”

“But –”

Lan Wangji slammed the window shut.

“…fine,” Nie Huaisang said to the closed window. “Be that way, see if I care. Not like we don’t need to build up a decent coparenting relationship or anything eventually.”

He thought he heard a choking sound from behind the door and smirked.

“Don’t you think you can baby-trap me and just walk away, Lan Zhan,” he said in his best ominous tone. “If you wanted someone to raise your kid without ever consulting you again, you should’ve dropped him off in the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, who’d probably be too busy being confused to even question where he came frome – but no. You came to me. I don’t make decisions in the best of times, least of all good. I have questions. A lot of questions.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“Not about how you got him or anything like that,” he said. “I’m not stupid, I can tell a secret when I see one. But, you know, other types of questions. Parenting stuff. Are you a ‘go sit and think about what you’ve done’ sort of parent? Or more traditional discipline, with copying lines and occasionally strikes when they’re naughty? Do you want him to learn the Lan sect rules along with the Nie sect principles –”

There was a muffled sound from inside the house.

It sounded angry.

“…we can talk about it later,” Nie Huaisang decided. He might’ve pushed his luck a bit too much. “Talk later!”

-

“You have a…what?” Lan Xichen asked, his smile a little fixed and stare a little wilder than normal.

“A nephew!” Nie Mingjue gushed. “Isn’t he wonderful?”

“Nephew.”

“He’s so well behaved, too! He plays quietly by himself most of the time, drawing and even writing a little, and Huaisang’s already teaching him how to play the dizi –”

“When you say nephew, do you mean Nie Huaisang’s child?”

“Do I have other brothers?” Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes at him. “He’s obviously not yours. Anyway, I know Meng Yao is expecting one, too, but he wouldn’t be dressed in Nie colors if it was his, would it?”

“Yes, but…are you telling me that…that Nie Huaisang…”

“It’s a battlefield child, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said patiently. “Obviously. Someone entrusted him to Huaisang.”

“Oh,” Lan Xichen said, looking relieved. “Yes, that makes more sense…wait.”

Nie Mingjue waited.

“Someone entrusted him to Nie Huaisang?”

“I know, right?” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen didn’t notice how strained his grin had suddenly become, or how thoughtful his eyes were as he surveyed Lan Xichen as if trying to find an answer to a question. “I would’ve assumed they’d go for someone more responsible, like you. Guess you never know…”

“I guess you don’t,” Lan Xichen agreed, looking down at the child with a bemused expression. A battlefield child, entrusted to Nie Huaisang… “They must have been truly driven to desperation.”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, and then changed the subject to little Nie Sizhui’s accomplishments, of which he could list many at great length and very great enthusiasm. By the time he was done with that, Ln Xichen was so overwhelmed that he didn’t ask a single other question.

-

“So I’ve got an idea on how to do this whole co-parenting thing,” Nie Huaisang said, cracking nuts to eat. He was sitting next to Lan Wangji’s bedside, and dropping the shells straight on the floor, too, staring dead-eyed at Lan Wangji as if daring him to say something – which he wouldn’t, of course. “Since with Sizhui starting classes soon it’s become much more urgent, on account of me needing you to attend meetings with his teachers and discuss his progress.”

Lan Wangji looked deeply long-suffering. He’d only invited Nie Huaisang inside because Nie Huaisang had threatened to start shouting out his business loudly on account of oh but Lan Zhan, how was I to know if you could hear me in there, I just had to raise my voice just in case because I wouldn’t want you to miss any of the extremelyimportant news –

It was all Lan Wangji’s fault for being born earlier than Nie Huaisang, Nie Huaisang thought virtuously. It was merely Nie Huaisang’s lot in life to fulfill the role of annoying younger brother to everyone.

“See, it’s the music,” Nie Huaisang continued. “You do music, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ice-cold glare suggested that he did, in fact, ‘do music’.

“So your brother has been playing this song for da-ge on a regular basis,” Nie Huaisang explained, ignoring the glare entirely. “And when he’s not available, which is most of the time nowadays, he’s been sending san-ge instead. Even though, of course, poor san-ge’s so busy back at Lanling all the time…ughh, it’s so unfair, you know! Poor san-ge has to do all the work of being the heir and gets none of the benefits, and they pile even more work on him on top of that – really, he gets no respect.”

Lan Wangji’s expression suggested he didn’t care.

“And think about the inconvenience to us!” Nie Huaisang sallied forth, undeterred. “People coming and going all the time, da-ge having to interrupt his schedule of spending quality time with me and Sizhui – and sect leader work, of course, though that’s less important – in order to march over to greet them and host them and listen to them…what a pain it is!”

Lan Wangji appeared on the verge of suggesting that Nie Huaisang consider getting to the point.

“So you should come do it instead.”

Lan Wangji’s expression cracked, suggesting that Nie Huaisang had actually managed to make an impact.

“You remember,” he said, voice low and a little hoarse from all that refusing to speak he’d been doing. Really, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t around to goad him into it, he might’ve lost the voice entirely – he didn’t even have little Sizhui around to force him to speak! “That I’m in seclusion. Right?”

“You’re horribly lonely is what you are,” Nie Huisang said briskly. “You require company. Therefore, coming to take up a semi-permanent posting in the Unclean Realm to play the Song of Clarity for my brother morning, noon, and night is clearly the finest way to solve all of our problems, and for you to see little Sizhui as often as you like.”

Lan Wangji visibly wavered. “My brother,” he said, then coughed. “My brother will never believe it.”

“That’s your problem,” Nie Huaisang said. “Find a way to sell it.”

He stood, shaking the remaining shells onto the chair.

“See you in Qinghe soon, Lan Zhan..!”

Lan Wangji was trying to kill him with his mind, Nie Huaisang thought happily as he wandered off with a whistle and a vaguely silly expression. Good – he’d been inside for too long. He needed the stimulation.

-

“Truly,” Nie Mingjue remarked, strolling around their gardens without any apparent notice of the small child perched on his shoulders, giggling wildly at the feeling of being tall, “I feel far better than I did before! One can scarcely compare it – night and day, really. Your Lan sect’s Song of Clarity is a marvel, even if it does take a while before it kicks in.”

“Mm,” Lan Wangji said, walking slowly with his hands behind his back. He was still unsteady on his feet on account of the absolutely horrific injuries he’d incurred – but if the Lan sect’s response to everything was seclusion, seclusion, seclusion, then the Nie sect’s equivalent response was exercise. These little excursions through the gardens were the result.

Thus far, they were still only doing laps around the main gardens, but Nie Huaisang had plans to eventually force Lan Wangji to go even as far as his own little side garden. He’d made it through his side door once, after all; why not a second time..?

At any rate, Nie Huaisang still wasn’t quite sure how Lan Wangji had talked Lan Xichen into allowing him to come to the Unclean Realm, but it really did make the whole co-parenting business a lot more convenient. And his brother had had so much fun making Lan Wangji stiff and awkward over all his thanks and praise for his decision to come ‘help out’ with Nie Sizhui’s raising until finally, at last, Nie Huaisang had taken pity and revealed that Nie Mingjue knew perfectly well whose battlefield child this was.

Both in terms of who had gifted him to Nie Huaisang, and who’d adopted him originally, and of course even his original surname – The little tot’s been through enough adoptions to make anyone’s head spin, his brother had said, his voice gruff as always. There’s no point in thinking back too far, is there?

Lan Wangji had been very relieved.

“Run, bobo!” Nie Sizhui cried, pointing over at a bird. “We need to get it for Sang-gege!”

Nie Mingjue snorted like a bull but obediently quickened his feet and left the rest of them behind, heading in full charge straight at the wild pheasant that was far more likely to end up on Nie Huaisang’s plate than in his aviary. It was about even odds which one Nie Sizhui meant, anyway.

“Nie Huaisang,” Lan Wangji said, his voice low, and Nie Huaisang looked at him. “The Song of Clarity does not take time to work. These effects should have happened at once.”

Nie Huaisang opened his fan, hiding his face as he frowned. “How odd,” he said. “And after san-ge put in all that hard work.”

“Perhaps he played it wrong.”

“Odd,” Nie Huaisang said again. “When san-ge gets so very little wrong…has your brother sent any word on the Xue Yang issue?”

“…he has not.”

“He’s going to need to pick a side eventually.”

“He does not want to make things difficult for his sworn brother.”

“Does he have only the one?” Nie Huaisang asked archly, and Lan Wangji averted his gaze. “It’s awkward for us if he doesn’t back us, and is a bad look besides…truly, it’s a wonder that san-ge managed to squeeze out the time to come here.”

Lan Wangji’s frown deepened. “Indeed,” he said. “One would think his father might be tempted to stop him.”

“Wouldn’t you just?” Nie Huaisang said. “Wouldn’t you just…you know, maybe when you’re feeling better, we should go visit Lanling ourselves.”

Lan Wangji glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, and Nie Huaisang smiled, fanning himself casually.

“I’m not the only one with a little side door,” he said. “Let’s go knocking and see what we find, shall we?”

[elsieys-blog]

Perks of an insomnia-driven night.

Draco Malfoy x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: hi hello, this is my first draco malfoy au and I hope you get to enjoy it as much as I wrote it <3

contains: fluff, tension, cussing, insomnia, room of requirement, Draco's rings, and strangers to friends with benefits.

summary: due to another insomnia-driven night, you strolled and suddenly bumped into a particular Slytherin. He gave you a gift you would cherish forever.

———————————————————

A loud buzz from outside startled you as you curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket up to your torso to suppress the chilly weather. You couldn't keep count on how many times you've tried to close your eyes and think as if you went into a free fall in hopes of getting yourself adrift. But no. You've closed your eyes, opened it again, flat it again but it didn't help at all. You were widely awake despite the fact you hadn't eaten any chocolate at all.

You heaved a sigh before deciding to leave your bed and go on for a short walk on the dimly lit hallways. Perhaps the calmness and stillness of it would soothe you. You pushed the duvet away from your nearly naked body and slipped your slippers onto your feet. Standing up, you went over to the bathroom, did some basic hygiene before twisting the doorknob and leaving your dormitory in a swift.

God, even the Ravenclaw common room didn't look fancy anymore.

It usually does every morning to dawn. But every midnight and pass midnight? It looks like as though someone was murdered and students ought to stay hidden in their dorms.

As your quiet and soft trudges echoed the walls, only a few line of torches lighting your way, you exited the Ravenclaw common room and was now and finally outside. The hallways were now bigger and neverending, as if you had set foot into a deja Vu. A few floorboards you step creaked and so the snoring portraits on every corner and side of the wall yawns and went back to sleep.

You maintained a good slow and calm pace until you forgot to pick up your wand from your room. There was no going back now because it was a long way back. Now you had to squint your eyes so that it adjusted from the pitch black darkness.

Loud cawing from crows scare you sometimes so goosebumps prickled your skin. The only thing you could see was the dots of glitter from the sky and the shadows the oak trees casted on the ground. The shadow was formed strangely and it looks distorted so you held a deep breath, reminding myself that there was nothing to be bothered of. And that everyone was sleeping just fine.

As you walked silently, your head elbow-deep in thoughts, you didn't know you were now staring at a wall so called the Room of Requirement. The walls was approximately fifteen feet, bizarre patterns across it.

"Well, there's nothing else to go, so. . ." Your mind spoke and you closed your eyes, thinking of a plausible reason to get yourself inside. After a few seconds, you heard three faint clicks until the wall molded into a tall door. You glanced sideways before entering the room slowly.

You were met by the darkness once again, but this time it felt comforting. You walked and walked, taking in the unblemished and grubby furnitures hidden beyond the tall door. There were stacks and mounds of unused things that you felt suddenly guilty. As you roamed around without a route, a movement beside you caught you off guard and it piqued your interest. Is someone else here?

"hello?" You started, your brows furrowing as you followed the movement.

As far from your expectations, the anonymous person replied and it was a manly, cold voice. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

A shiver came across your spine. You shyly said, "aren't you supposed to be too?" You saw his shadow lurch and you took the chance to step forward.

He said, "doesn't matter why I'm here. This is my usual spot." His voice was a bit taunting and bragging.

"Well, you're hiding in the shadows so... And you're not supposed to hide if you claim this as your spot." You sternly said, keeping your gaze fixated on his moving shadow.

"I'm not hiding. Have you come to the realization that it's the dead of the night?" He sternly said.

"Yes, but— I think we should come over to the light so I can see you." You plead but you doubt he would actually do it.

"See me? Pathetic."

You sighed. "What? How about let's do it together? I'm really in the mood for some company right now."

The man was hesitant at first but he considered it. As much as he was irritated by someone invading his territory, he kind of wanted a company too. There was a strong exhale across you as he said. "Fine."

You gave an upturned smile, stepping into a small ray of light seeping through a window. The moonshine cradled your face as well as his. He stood tall and with poise in front of you with a neutral glare, looking down as if his eyes belittle you. "Better princess?"

You couldn't help but stare at his eyes. Wait- he was standing in front of you so he blocked the moonshine and you could only see his silhouette. You grabbed his sleeve and ushered him to a better angle. When you gently pushed his back on a partition, you finally got to look at his golden blue eyes, and the bits of freckles that stretched to his nose and cheekbones. His face was sculpted beautifully and even his nose shaped like a button. He was lithe and pristine. And you began to coil into a pit of fire.

"You're- Draco Malfoy?" Your voice shook.

"that's me." He smirked and it only made my headspace ablaze. "And you are?"

You were too busy admiring his features but your mind eventually rebounded. "I- Y/n- Y/n Y/l/n!"

He kept on smiling. "Oh, you!" He began to finally acknowledge your ghostly presence before. "You're the one I shared potions with on fifth year eh? The one where we got perfect scores?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Right. The only reason we got perfect grades for it was because of my skills actually. Don't forget that." He playfully said, beaming a wink at you which got your cheeks turning slightly crimson.

"Ha ha, very funny. I still helped though." You avowed.

"Mhm. But I did most of the dirty work and you just stood there, watching." He laughed and I chuckled. Fun times.

"Fine. Have it your way. I did watch instead of help. Happy?" You jeered but you couldn't help but glance at the collection of rings on his bony fingers. You went still for a moment and decided to ask the unthinkable. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You- you have nice rings. It looks good on you." You faltered in the slightest but remained a tepid look. "Silver matches you to be honest."

"Silver?" His eyebrows rose and his voice was unbelievably sexy. "I get that a lot."

You keep on staring, checking out the patterns designed on the small ringed jewelry such as serpents and cursive letters. You didn't realize you were smiling until his fingers convulsed. "Y/n?"

You look back into his stormy eyes with embarrassment. "Oh I- I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's obvious you really like them, don't you?"

"Well, I mean it's pretty but-"

"Would you want one?" His question was out of the blue so you nearly jolted.

Your eyes widen in full extent, the feeling of affection was set into extreme levels that you feel like you're about to explode. "Oh er- that's good thank you, but-"

"It's pretty I get it. And you seem to admire it as much as I do so ..." He paused, removing one of the glinting rings from his ring finger and held it into his palm. "Here, you can have it for me."

Your cheeks were flaming and it was intolerable. He was platonic and you never expected it from him. You sucked in a deep inhale, tongue-tied. "Oh my god, Malfoy, this was so unnecessary-"

"It's alright. Besides, I think that hand of yours need some color." He smiled tenderly, handing you the ring. His height was towering and it only made things worse for you to handle because of how the air thickens and the atmosphere suddenly getting hot.

"I d-don't know what to say." You stutter. "But thank you. Thank you so much, wow."

You got ahold of the metallic ring, inserting it on your ring finger but it didn't fit. It was expected of course. So you tried putting it on your middle finger but it was loose still. As you were about to put it on your thumb, his cold hands gripped your wrist making you halt mid-process.

"What is it-"

"Here let me help you out."

God, he was also wearing a silver glinting necklace. Now that is fucking sexy!

Draco unclasped his own necklace, putting either ends of it into the ring until it hang perfectly. When it was perfectly adjusted just how he wanted it to, he offered it to you without double thinking, a genuine grin sprawled on his handsomely face.

You were still deeply honored yet it felt... Wrong. "Draco- I really appreciate this but- it's yours and we barely even talk-"

"I don't care about that." He flawlessly said. "You remind me of someone I deeply love and... I guess this is my way of being grateful we met at this untimely night." He scoffed and you're a bit sure you saw a hint of blush on his face.

"Really?" You didn't bother asking who that person was since he probably wasn't in the mood to tell you. You were flattered by his words as you accepted his offer.

"Yes. Now take this, and wear it. I want to see your hands with my rings, Y/n." He flirtatiously spoke, giving you another wink.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous act. As you were about to out it, he stopped you once more and this time you were a bit provoked. "What is it again?"

He shrugged, and now the blush hidden in his handsome features was now displayed. It was cute seeing his pale, porcelain skin yo be tainted with a tinge of scarlet. He took the necklace into his hands and made strong and seducing type of eye contact. You nearly tripped at his look right now as he said. "Let's make this scene a bit... Romantic. And by that..." He clasped the necklace on your neck, his fingers ghosting your skin ever-so-slightly. "I get to do this to you."

You shudder, not just because of the cold weather, but because of his cold touch. It was so nice against your skin that you wanted him to do it again. You smiled and bit your lip to restrain any embarrassing words. "Draco, you're being too sweet-"

"Am I? People always like the idea of making me sound rude. It feels good I get to prove it to you that that is a lie." His hands sat ok your shoulder, the pad of his thumb caressing you pulse point between your neck and shoulder.

"I understand that. When people wanted to make you sound like a villain when truly your just trying to be genuine and basic?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah, Y/n. Something like that."

You contemplated for a moment, the tension between you building up because of how close your lips had been. It was merely an inch apart, your noses almost touching that you suddenly want to feel the saccharine taste of his lips and the soft texture pressed against yours. Maybe it would be the cure to your insomnia-driven nights. Maybe it would ease and alleviate you.

"You're pretty, you know?"

You were taken a back. You stared at his eyes still and didn't even realize his hands had dropped down to your elbows, pulling it closer to him, informing you that he wants your hands to lean on his chest—to feel how ragged his breathing had gotten just by her presence. You flinched a little and smiled.

"Oh?" Was the only word to roll out of your tongue.

"Mhm." Draco was lost in his own void, his concentration had dropped from your eyes and down to your gaped lips. "So pretty..."

Fuck...

You couldn't bear the growing impatience anymore and you knew to yourself that you had to do something about it. Something to help soften his heavy breathing. He looked tired and worn out. Fragile and about to burst. You had to do something about it quick before he breaks.

Shit!

And so you lifted your heel to match his height and pecked a kiss on the corner of his mouth. For a moment Draco closed his eyes to memorize the way both your lips linked—he was awestruck. He smelled good. So good that you wanted to give another go but was frustrated enough that he didn't slam you against the wall and leave you breathless from his aggressive kisses so you just stood there and watched him remember the unsolicited peck you just gave him.

"Y/n-"

"Can I kiss you?" You abruptly said without hesitation. "Again? And this time... Better?"

Shit..

He nodded in the slightest of movement before lowering his head and both your lips met anew. There were fireworks and butterflies erupting in your stomach and all you could feel was how graceful and subtle his tongue shifted against yours and it was pure bliss. And this time, it was rougher than you thought.

a/n: AHHH! i hope you liked this one, and also PART TWO IS COMING SOON! sorry, I left y'all in a cliffhanger ;))

[olberic]

ok i thought i was done w triangle strategy but im NOT

disclaimer: i hate roland’s ending bc it like objectively sucks. made me the player feel scummy and would never be my first choice. HOWEVER. huge HUGE fan of roland’s reverse character growth. we dont get enough stories these days with main characters getting worse.

the first time i played the game i went to the rosellan village in chapter 15, so having roland be depressed and willing to capitulate to hyzante was like out of the blue. then in my second playthrough i stayed in the capital and got to see how roland piled all that guilt onto himself. when you go to wolffort (my 3rd run) and deal with pattriate yourself, you see how its not just him that’s the problem, its everyone else with power in the capital. when you play it on a run where he stabs cordelia it hits even harder:

no matter what roland does, from his perspective, it makes the situation around him worse, and its always his fault. now, we know thats not true — he should be a kind person, he is a good king in the golden ending. but he tries to give himself up to save house wolffort, and gets house landroi killed. he tries to drive out the invaders, and hurts his sister. he tries to support the people, and gets them in trouble with the royalists. he tries to kick out the royalists, and they steal from the people.

now, we know the royalists are corrupt no matter what. we know that cordelia was willing to sacrifice herself for avlora no matter who was attacking her. we know that house landroi gets taken down, even if its not by house wolffort. but roland doesnt! hes trapped in the narrative to always be the cause of the problems around him!!

is siding with hyzante extreme? yes! but after all that, and not even knowing serenoa could replace him as king, is it so surprising that he’d want to give up? he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders, but feels not just powerless, but cursed to make everything worse! his anger at aesfrost’s the only thing that he doesnt mess up on, so hyzante’s the only one he can surrender to.

the way he gets bad and stays bad in every ending except the golden route is proof that to get over yourself, you have to put in the work and you cant do everything on your own. its the same reason frederica’s ending leaves so much unfinished. its the same reason benedict is corrupted in his ending.

im not defending roland’s ending, but saying roland’s decision is out of the blue is just a failure to understand the story’s point!! and getting mad at him for staying true to his convictions when its made clear from day one that it’s important to stick with your decisions is so ??? like idk. i keep seeing really bad takes and its not even that hard to engage w the surface level parts of the story.

[wing-ed-thing]

Flavor Favor (Rock Lee x Reader)

Word Count: 718

Tags/Warnings: Baker!Reader, Gender Neutral Reader, Food Feeding (non-sexual), Taste Testing Sweets, Discussion of Desserts Containing Animal Products, Obnoxious Fluff

Notes: This was going to be named just “Favor”, but in a fit of stupid humor, I thought to myself, “You know what sounds like ‘favor’? Flavor. Get it? Cause the story is about...” Yes past Wing, I think we all get it...

“Lee!” You hung outside your bakery door, arms frantically waving as you tried to flag him down. The tip of your shoe teetered with the bottom rail, perhaps as a reminder to yourself that despite being mostly outside, you still had a foot in the store. “Lee!”

He turned mid-jog and skidded backwards, nearly knocking into someone as he searched the street for the source of the shout before locking eyes with you. A wide grin broke out across his face as Lee waved back. Your little bakery had been situated along his jogging route for as long as you could remember, but with your vastly different lifestyles, the two of you never truly had opportunities to talk. So you made them.

“I need your help, do you have a second?” you called down the street. Lee held up two thumbs as he bounced with excitement, bounding up to your storefront with an eagerness to help.

“Sure thing!” he exclaimed and you held the door for him as he strode into your little shop. “What is it that you need help with today? Do you need your sink unclogged again? Or perhaps you need my assistance to scare off a pastry-hungry burglar!” He struck a few fighting poses in your storefront at the prospect and you laughed as you retreated briefly into the kitchen.

“No clogged drain today, I actually need a taste-tester.” You reemerged with a tray full of sweets and gourmet candies, motioning for Lee to take a seat at one of your tables by the window. You sat adjacent to him, the other two chairs remaining empty. He gaped at the selection, eager, but suddenly appearing unsure.

“Are you certain?” he asked. “This is a lot of food, I do not want you to waste it.” You shook your head, already taking a piece of cheesecake on a fork and offering it to him. You must have raided every poulterer in the market for the dozens of eggs required to make your famous cheesecake. You hand whipped your own cream for the topping and made the crust from scratch. The night before, you actually dropped your first batch all over the hot stove, causing it to splatter in a gooey, orange-yellow mess. But Lee didn’t need to know about that.

“I want to make sure that this month’s selection is the best, but I’ve gotten so used to all the flavors. I need a second opinion,” you insisted, crossing your legs and offering him the sample at the end of your fork for a second time. Lee gave you a curt, determined nod.

“Well, if it is to ensure the best quality…” he leaned over to eat the sample, his face

immediately lighting up at the flavor. You inwardly celebrated.

“That is delicious!” He motioned to the neatly decorated cake slice with an energy that would’ve looked like exaggeration on anyone else. You, of course, knew this and everything else would be just as delicious. It wasn’t just the cake that you had stayed for late nights in the bakery for. The corners of your lips tugged upwards as you hummed to yourself.

“Have another,” you said quickly, taking another bit of the cheesecake onto the fork. Lee ate the second piece, face pensive and delighted as he chewed.

“How much do I owe you for all of this?” You waved your hand in the air, already preparing another sweet. Lee didn’t even blink twice, eating what you gave him without a second thought.

“Nothing, you’re doing me such a big favor just being here.” You spun the tray on the table, plucking up a small truffle in a golden wrapper. “I’m trying my hand at chocoleteering. I want to know if these truffles are good enough to start selling.” Lee let you push the small chocolate ball past his lips. “It’s layered, so the flavor changes as you eat it.”

“That has to be the best one yet!” Lee reeled, mouth still full as he collapsed back on his chair. “It is like a bomb of chocolate… A chocolate bomb!” He sat up and you had a glass of milk waiting for him, another thing that he did question.

“Well you should eat another one, just to be sure.” And he accepted it happily.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

@brokennerdalert​