#Daye writes

[daye-dream]

Runaway Coward

Some people are brave enough to weather a storm through sheer willpower and stubbornness. Some people are confident enough to put their very selves on the line without a moment’s hesitation. Some people respond to a push with a shove, holding their ground no matter what comes.

Some people, though, simply aren’t meant for the battlefield.

Nightmarish memories plague your nights, but the very same demons show up when you’re awake, trying to amend the past.

A story about a not-so brave Y/N and the pair of celestial animatronics looking to reconnect with them after the dust has settled.

The winding halls seem to stretch forever, every shadow around you only growing longer, deeper, darker with every beat of your feet against the floor, but the warning signs fly by you like well-worn witnesses.

You’re running, sprinting, and your heart is locked in your heaving throat. You can’t distinguish between the sound of your heart and your feet, both sounding far too loud, too frantic resonating in your head, but you don’t have the luxury to waste time thinking about it. Instead, you strain your ears for the sound of something, anything, because you know.

You know you’re not alone in these never-ending halls. You never were.

Every twist leads you further into the darkness, only serving to grow your desperation as you slam into the walls that seem to narrow in on you at every turn, but you won’t stop. You can’t stop. The sound of someone chasing you is nonexistent, but you can feel the predatory stare burning holes into the back of your head, and you can all but taste the iron, metallic grinding of a sharp grin growing wider with every passing moment. Everything around you feels cold, the air so sharp you can see your breath, and it threatens to freeze your very bones, freeze you into place if you don’t keep moving.

There’s no point to running, it won’t save you. But your body has a mind of its own. Instinct keeps it pumping, like a pitiful rabbit just biding its time, wearing itself thin, until the fox can dig its teeth into its neck.

And you know that the fox is watching, enjoying the chase for what it’s worth, only allowing it to continue for the amusement it brings.

Farther and farther you run, mindless, your shoulders colliding with the narrowing walls until suddenly, or maybe not suddenly at all, all that surrounds you is bleak blackness, threatening to swallow you whole. The once-suffocating enclosure has shattered into a space so endlessly open that it’s unnerving. You don’t know where to look, because the nothingness takes up so much space it feels dangerous just to breathe. You can barely tell what’s up or what’s down. Every nerve stands on end, every muscle pulled taut and ready to flee - flee, always flee - at a moment’s notice.

But there’s nowhere to go. There never was.

The way you violently swivel in space, searching for the hint of something, something red and deadly and sharp, is enough to make you dizzy. But you can’t afford to catch your breath, can’t afford to be complacent, especially as you hear the whisper of what anybody else would assume to be the wind.

You’re not so blissfully ignorant.

The sound of your heartbeat is wild in your ears.

It’s in one twist, one desperate attempt to orient yourself to where that giggle came from, that you almost trip. Your foot foolishly catches itself against your heel, sending you forward, and you cry in sudden, stark alarm. It echoes, dull and loud and wrong within the air. It’s the first sound you’ve made throughout this chase that has gone on forever.

It’s also your first strike.

You manage not to fall, your shaking, numb hands now spread and curled around nothing, barely believing it, either, but there’s no time for relief or celebration when suddenly, a blinding, horrifying light shines down on you from above.

The assault rips another yell from you, arms coming up defensively as the deafening sound of stage lights roar around you. It reverberates through the floor, violently illuminating the space around you and pressing unrelentingly against your eyelids. In mere moments, the freezing cold is replaced by a suffocating heat.

But the light is a false hope, a fake safe haven designed to bring down your guard. There is nowhere to hide, nothing inspiring to see, and you know this already.

Quiet, bouncing steps sound out from everywhere and nowhere. The sound is jerky, metallic. The rhythm is off-set, as though unfocused and uncaring. You can’t tell from what direction it approaches you.

“Where are youuuuuuu?~”

Your demon croons in sadistic glee, and your feet root themselves into the floor. You want to flee - run, run! - but one wrong move means the game is over. One wrong move means you’ve been found.

“You can’t hiii-iiide! I know where you are!~”

It’s the horrible truth. They always know, always have. Their eyes never left you, promising to catch you another time, another day. They followed you for hours, watching from spots only they could reach, only disappearing when you turned to see them. But they always came back. Never gone for long.

The footsteps - too light, too forced - stop. He’s in front of you now, radiating a heat so intense it burns through sheets of frost on your skin, leaving a stinging sensation behind.

“Don’t you wanna have fun with your friend?” The demon sings songs, but there’s no innocence in his tone. You know by now what kind of ‘fun’ he’s after.

Your fingers dig into your closed eyelids, the pressure so harsh your head has started to hurt, but you can’t afford to give him so much of a glance. The sadistic rules this demon plays by are childlike: if you can’t see him and if you don’t move, he can’t see you.

Or at least, that’s what he’s led you to believe. There’s little doubt in your mind that these ‘truths’ are little more than self-imposed truths intended to make things more ‘fun’.

The monster in front of you tuts, and it’s meant to sound disappointed. But you can tell it’s gleeful.

“Well that’s no fun, Friend! Don’tcha know that’s mean? Don’tcha you know that’s not the game we’re playing?”

Metal scrapes against metal - a grin pulled wide.

“Won't you let me find you?”

You don’t breathe. You don’t think or move or make a sound. Your survival, your everything depends on it.

A cold brush of cool claws ghosts along your neck like a promise, and you flinch.

(Flee, always flee)

You never last long.

“BOO!”

You scream even before blistering hands bruise your wrists, ripping them away from your face. You jerk as you’re dragged mercilessly forward, tripping over yourself in your unrelenting panic. You cry a nonsensical plea as the same frigid claws from before find their way around your neck, this time digging into your throat and biting beads of blood against your skin.

You’re desperate to escape, but it’s too late. You’re bound and tied, held firm so your traitorous limbs won’t steal you away ever again. You’re dizzy and overwhelmed, unable to tell what’s what any longer.

You’re in the light, the burn making it impossible to see. You’re in the dark, the numbness rendering your body unsteady.

You’re in your bed, covered in freezing sweat.

Your eyes open, but they’re unseeing through the haze of tears now freely falling down your face. Instead of attending to the uncomfortable wetness, however, your hands rush upwards to confirm the lack of metal stealing away your breath and you’re quick to press your wrists against your lips soon after, shuddering when only the phantom pain of bruises greets you. The heavy blanket over your body is suffocatingly hot, but your skin is frozen over with goosebumps.

Discomfort washes over you in waves at the opposing sensations.

The sound of cheerful magpies dance through your window. A beautiful stream of purple light shines down upon you, your thin curtains filtering down the morning’s greeting. The day is perfect, opening its arms for you to join in the livelihood.

It’s perfectly oblivious to your state.

You spend hours in bed, arms wrapped protectively around your knees. It’s a feeble defence in theory, but it’s grounding. It’s natural and perfectly human - it’s just you.

It’s only when you’re convinced your thoughts won’t give you away, that a whisper to yourself won’t get you killed, that you remind yourself of the sole truth that gets you out of bed on these types of days.

You’ve already run away. They can’t catch you here.

#Daye writes #Runaway Coward #The first chapter for what will hopefully be a much longer story #Consider this the prologue <3 #sun x reader #moon x reader #(Eventually) #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #writing

[canineluvz]

we are friends and our f/o’s are friends! now lets all hang out and go on double dates!

#i want to write a story about me and my moots and our f/o’s going on double dayes #but idk who would be cool with me doing that #and sadly it would have to be moots whos f/o’s im fimiliar with because i dont wanna miss representing someones f/o yk? #if i could draw better though !! #you bet id be drawing all of us together on a date with our f/o’s!!!! #canineluvz.positivity #self ship #self shipping #selfship #f/o #fictional other #proship selfship #proselfship #proship friendly

[ahsokatanos-lightsabertechnique]

Girl help, I blinked and now I have 22 urban fantasy novels checked out of the online library

#no but actually #i literally have 24 books checked out in the last week and 22 of them are ilona andrews or seanan mcguire #it's nothing but ilona andrews and seanan mcguire in there #GO READ ILONA ANDREWS AND SEANAN MCGUIRE #we stan the urban fantasy authors that write strong leading ladies and have diversity in their books #we DON'T stan urban fantasy authors that have a bunch of shirtless werewolves and vampires flexing at each other over a “tough” girl #and then “seduce” her with extra strength questionable consent while the plot trips and falls into a wood chipper in the distance #HAVING SAID THAT if that brings you joy #have your joy #enjoy those books #they just creep me out and I can't personally stand to read them #AND THAT'S WHY I LOVE ILONA ANDREWS AND SEANAN MCGUIRE #seanan mcguire #october daye #kate daniels #curran lennart #tybalt #quentin sollys #urban fantasy #books #library #ilona andrews

[scuddle-bubble101]

No one asked, but I care not.

Have a man...

I haven't drawn him in years and he's just one of the close babs honestly<333

#daye #big boooi #serif doodling #I love he~ He's meant to be BIG- but I also struggled at least five times with that so HUZZAH SIDE SHOT #man so lorge he could crush damn melons... but he won't.. He somft #no one knows of the book I made like eight years back that I just stopped writing simultaneously altogether... #I might go back and write a few more chapters for it though #wheee~

[owlbear33]

I love the InCryptid series by Seanan McGuire, I love these books so much, but I never see anyone talk about them (at least on Tumblr, barely any fanfic on AO3 also)

It's Urban fantasy, fairly kitchen sink, about a family of Monster Hunters turned Monster Conservationists (Cryptozoologists, Cryptobotannists, Crypto Social Workers), it's got fun world-building, it's Chocked full of found family, so much found family, and Y'all should read them

so if that sounds like fun, or you like Urban Fantasy, or you like Seanans other works (October Daye, Wayward Childen, etc) please give them a look

#owlbear grumbling #book recs #incryptid #seanan mcguire #urban fantasy #would it be rude to tag seanans other series? #october daye #wayward children #no I just really really love these books #Seanan if you see this post thankyou for writing them #ooh oh there's also a spinoff series called Ghost roads #about a hitchhiker ghost trying to stop the murderous immortal asshole that killed her #also very good #just generally this is a recomendation for Seanans works #everything I've read by her has been amazing

[lavenoon]

Sun and Sunflower - @daye-dream's agentsona! <3

#post let luce #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #fnaf sun #accidentally undercover #my art #daye wanted to hold him #so he shall be held #its doodle days this week im very sorry #ill get to writing and those asks at some point #but silly doodles and murder have the biggest serotonin payoff rn so thats what im doing #admittedly also got a bunch of new brushes and am just experimenting a lot #gotta ride that wave yknow #but yes #enjoy

[nothwell]

A new episode of Right Here, Write Queer just dropped! You can listen in your favorite podcast app.

Today’s episode features Luna Daye, author of the epic high fantasy series The Thoraius Saga and the romantasy series The Fated Fae. We discuss discuss character-driven storytelling, visceral reader reactions, and the symbiotic relationship between metal music and fantasy novels.

Our other episodes will introduce you to…

• Carolina Cruz, author of the gothic horror romance Blood in the Water and the fantasy series The Creed of Gethin. • Sarah Whalen, author of the contemporary ace romance novel This Doesn’t Mean Anything. • R.K. Ashwick, fantasy author of the Lutesong series and A Rival Most Vial: Potioneering for Love and Profit. • S.O. Callahan, author of the historical fantasy novel Fella Enchanted and co-author of Breeze Spells and Bridegrooms. • Tess Carletta, cozy magical-realism author of Kit & Basie and its recently-released sequel, Patchwork. • Sarah Wallace, author of the Regency fantasy novel Letters to Half Moon Street and co-author of Breeze Spells and Bridegrooms. • Noah Hawthorne (also writing as Aelina Isaacs), author of the fantasy novel Phantom and Rook: When An Immortal Falls In Love With A Witch as well as The Rebel Foxes: The Sirione Chronicles: The Dome. • and me, Sebastian Nothwell!

Our intro episodes will be rapid-releasing every Monday-Wednesday-Friday for the next three weeks, and our regular topic episodes will come out every week after that.

This project has been many months in the making and I’m so thrilled to finally be able to share it with you – thank you for listening!

#podcast #luna daye #writeblr #right here write queer

[clonerightsagenda]

Walther: Gee I sure am glad I am a trans man dating a presumably cis woman and so we don't have to worry about a surprise pregnancy as part of our increasingly soap opera-esque lives.

Large anvil labeled 'Cassandra is Firstborn' hanging over his head: *wobbles ominously*

#buddy your odds of making it out of this series without accidentally parenting a new species are not good #he's an academic. at least he could write a paper about it #kat reads october daye

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

WAIT WHOS SUNNI .

IM GLAD YOU ASKED (although things have changed up a bit since the last time I talked in depth about her ahaha)

SO this is Sunni Dayes!! She's a fellow high school student of the group, she's an aspiring meteorologist who loves studying science + the weather (a small perk of her being a Descendant of Light), and has a teeny weeny tiny crush on Jay. Despite that, she puts it aside to work on being friends with Jay because of how much she admires him, and due to a school assignment the duo get closer during S2.

In S3, Nya and Jay break up for various spoilerific reasons, and Sunni's one of the people helping Jay pick up the pieces. During the following summer (in which S4 takes place), she interns at the same tv station where Jay is filming his game show, allowing them to spend more time together. When Jay heads off to the tournament, Sunni is part of Nya's rag-tag group that heads off to go "rescue" the other EMs.

Post-S4, she and Jay do start dating, but by S6 (or, during it, haven't decided), Jay cuts it off because he finally puts together the pieces about his own shortcomings (and, obviously, the fact he's still into Nya), bit it's something he wouldn't have figured out had he not taken the shot with Sunni, which Sunni herself is pleased about.

Thus Jay is able to use the experience of not being hyper-focused on Nya to reflect upon himself, how he pursues his relationships, and what it is he truly wants out of his life, while Sunni gets the reverse character development of focusing on herself beyond Jay (or even romance itself), though they absolutely stay friends \(*-*)/

(and then Sunni goes on to be one of the founders of the League of Jay during Prime Empire, along with Miranda and potentially Fugi-Dove snksnkskfhfs)

(And after that, Post-Merge she does achieve her dream of becoming a meteorologist/weatherwoman, though reporting on realm-changing quakes was not in the vision but at least she's able to make a difference and help out with her weather work <3)

#and that's the general subject-to-change gist #she's what we call the 'badass normal' of the group but change badass to 'adorable' #she also *might* end up dating ronin's daughter later on but idk haven't solidified harleigh enough yet— #really i just wanted somebody to give jay some down to earth perspective about himself #and have a nice friend who likes him beyond the ninja stuff #anyway she's gonna be very supportive come s2 and i'm excited to write more about her!!! #oc: sunni dayes #jay walker #sunshowershipping #info tag #ninjago ocs #ninjago oc

[johnconstantinesdick]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: October Daye Series - Seanan McGuire Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: October "Toby" Daye & Quentin Sollys, Minor or Background Relationship(s) Characters: Quentin Sollys, October "Toby" Daye, Chelsea Ames, Rayseline Torquill Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Murder Mystery Summary:

Sir Quentin Sollys lives his life as a knight errant in service to the Duchy of Shadowed Hills. He gets up every morning, drinks his coffee, and drives into work. He does his job, and if that involves more household-management than swinging his sword around or solving mysteries, that's fine.

And then Countess Evening Winterrose dies, and the only witness is the Duchy's new foster; a near-feral changeling child who demands to be a part of the investigation. With clues leading straight to the fae underworld, a complicated relationship to the local King of Cats to contend with, and a strange child to look after, Quentin has his work cut out for him.

~~

What if I wrote a Toby ageswap. What would you do then.

#october daye #toby daye #quentin sollys #also what if quentin and raj were yearning exes. and what if chelsea and raysel were codependent Somethings. what would you do. #eli writes #eli rambles

[daye-dream]

Runaway Coward

Déjà vu is usually a funny thing, something that pokes and prods at us from a distance, trying to trick us into believing that something that hasn’t happened before has.

Unfortunately, déjà vu isn’t quite as kind to you.

This is part two! Check out part one here!

Maple Stories is a cute, picturesque bookstore that started off as something small and cozy, but has since grown out of its humble beginnings. Thankfully without losing its cozy vibes.

Rows and rows of tall shelving take up the majority of the space, with windowside chairs settled in pairs and beanbags all scattered in between. The loopy, handwritten signs meticulously and lovingly denote every genre displayed in every row, and bright, shiny stickers with the labelling “Staff Favourite!” stand out across the spines of books all throughout. Two glass doors opposite to each other lead to two wide, open rooms with long tables, one a dedicated space for kids’ activities and workshops, and the other filled with computers, typical classroom supplies and a printer for those hard at work.

It’s a space you’re well familiar with, and your love for the place is frankly the only reason you showed up to work today at all.

“Damn, you look like shit. Rough night?”

Well. Maybe not the only reason.

An arm slings heavily across your shoulder, and you allow yourself to sink sideways into the familiar hold with a listless, affirmative hum. You’d been doing your best not to seem dead on your feet this whole morning, but there’s no point now that your cover’s already been blown. Plus, you’ve never been able to lie to Ana.

“D’you want some tea?” She asks, then grunts when you put more weight into her side. It’s not nearly enough to unsteady her - she’s just being dramatic.

Still, a hand of hers reaches up to card through your hair, and you sigh comfortably. Her hand is rough, but the motions are soothing and it serves to firmly ground you. “Nah,” you manage to push out as your brain immediately turns to mush under the much-needed affection. Indulging yourself for a moment, you let your eyes slip shut. “I’ll be okay.” Equipped with your trusty water bottle, you’re all set to fight the faint, hazy headache nestled behind your forehead.

Ana isn’t convinced, you can tell, but there isn’t much she can contest you with unless she straight up sends you back home. And that’s not really an option for you right now. She knows it just as well as you do.

So, despite yourself, you gently peel off from your friend and flash her a smile. It’s a weak thing, you can just barely feel the corner of your lips pulling upwards, but it’s a genuine one all the same. Anything less (or anything more) would only stoke the flames of her concern. You don’t push your luck.

“Plus, it’s your turn to take care of the kids today, so that means I get to mainly do busywork. The most I’ll do is probably just have to answer a few questions or find a few books.” And what with it being the middle of the week, you don’t expect the place to get too filled up anyways.

For a moment, Ana is quiet, looking you over in an attempt to really judge the state you’re in, likely looking for any signs of you being worse for wear than you’re letting on. It wouldn’t be the first time (and it likely wouldn’t be the last time, either). You let her do as she pleases, feeling comfortable with her stoic but blatant show of care and the easily trackable nature of her sharp blue eyes. You follow the movement for the few seconds of silence that sit between you.

Eventually, she relents. You just had a hard night, one that still shakes you to your core to think about, but it’s thankfully the first of its kind since a while now. There’s a sore spot on your lip, a string of tension across your shoulders and a dull ache from your restless sleep, but there are no bags setting heavy on your face or a shakiness to your step. It’s not the worst day you’ve had by a long stretch. You’re delicate, but not in need of any repairs quite yet.

(Hopefully, if you distract yourself well enough and don’t go trying to look for what might’ve triggered the demons of your past to sneak back up on you, you won’t need to build yourself back up again at all.)

So, instead of pushing you any further, Ana dramatically groans. “Why do I have to be stuck with the gremlins anyways?” she grouses. “You know those little monsters respect me as far as they can throw me. Every time you tell them to settle down, they basically trip over themselves trying to please you. But me? Oh nooo, they’ll poke at each other or make jokes just to see who gets in trouble first.”

“And yet, they’ve never actually annoyed you, have they?” Taking the olive branch for what it’s worth, you don’t waste a beat in playfully calling her out. It’s less a question than it is a simple fact, and you both know it, so Ana doesn’t bother answering. Instead, she crosses her arms, frown pulling deeper, but for all she might huff and puff, you know she’s got a soft spot for the so-called ‘little monsters’ that pull at her pant legs, whining when it comes time for them to leave, and that stare starry-eyed at her spiky jewellery, later eagerly trying to convince their parents to get them something similar, much to their distaste.

There’s no defence Ana can give to prove you wrong, so she instead ruffles your hair, two notches below a noogie, and walks past you. “Yeah yeah. Go get your nametag on already. I don’t pay you to look pretty.”

You laugh freely, feeling the pit in your stomach lighten.

Yeah. You’re glad you came in today.

With that, the day finally feels like it begins, with patrons starting to filter in at a more reasonable time than 8 AM. You help an overwhelmed-looking university student with a computer issue - wincing sympathetically when you realise said ‘issue’ amounts to little else than the poor thing not realising the mouse wasn’t plugged in - and only just manage to finish changing the printer ink cartons before the tell-tale sound of today’s first-grade field trippers descend upon your best friend and boss. While the supervising teacher looks as embarrassed as always, you don’t share in his pity, and instead contentedly make your way to the back room to restock the display cases, leaving Ana to the ankle-biting wolves with a small smile on your face.

The familiarity is easy.

After that, it doesn’t take too long before your worries begin to drift. Maple Stories is relaxing, and the process of swapping out last week’s ‘Top Ten’ is muscle memory by now. You press new stickers onto the spine of each new winner, smooth through those belonging to two books still upholding their spots, and gently peel off the rest like they belong to old friends coming back from a long and arduous trip.

All the while, as you idly read through each synopsis, little details begin to surface in your mind. Traits, quotes, scenes, all of these come to you, inspired by the creative landscape all around you. It’s not the most riveting of work, but it’s yours and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You remind yourself of this as the sound of hushed, childish laughter passes you by.

It isn’t until you hear your name be called from somewhere behind you that the illusion of peace is suddenly broken, shattered into pieces, and you nearly jump right out of your skin. But it isn’t the prospect of social interaction nor the unexpected disruption that makes ice wash through your veins.

No.

It’s the tone. It’s the voice. It’s the memories that have you bolting forward and away, heart suddenly jack rabbiting in your chest. Fear is on you in an instant, gripping you like a vice that never really left, and horror clouds you as every muscle in your body tenses because all of you knows you’ve messed up.

You moved. You were found, you made a sound and you didn’t stay. The worst part is that it’s all useless, too, because you don’t even get far. Your back finds a bookshelf with a rough and hardy ‘thump’, edges digging into your spine, but you don’t dare keep your back turned for too long because you know that would only make things worse.

Your legs burn with phantom pain, last night’s terrors coming back to you, and your hands clench at your sides as you look up to face your fate all while your mind screams ‘How? HOW?’ so loudly that you can't hear anything else. It’s so cloying you can’t even manage to make a sound despite every nerve in your body crying for help.

But when your eyes finally manage to refocus on what's in front of you, it’s not to the sight of claws reaching for your shirt or gangly metal fingers eager to wrap around your throat.

Instead, there’s a hand.

There’s a fleshy, human hand frozen midair, and it takes all your other thoughts screeching to a stop to realise that that hand is attached to an arm. And that arm is attached to a body.

A human body.

Standing before you is a tall stranger in bright clothes - human clothes - with a full head of dark, curly hair - human hair - looking both decidedly confused, concerned, and something else that your brain can’t quite decipher at this moment. But what you can tell, above all else, is that the being in front of you now is clearly, undeniably human. Warm brown eyes are wide as he stares, shock-still.

Oh god.

Through the still-racing rhythm of your heart, shame floods your system and you begin to internally berate yourself for something entirely different than you had been before, though your internal monologue stays mostly the same.

Stupid, stupid!

You jolt upright so suddenly that the man in front of you flinches, but you don’t give him time to speak, words pushing through your throat unbound.

“I am so, so sorry!” You ignore the way your voice cracks and the way the heat rushing to your face makes you want to bolt away into the bathroom. This isn’t something you can run away from. (This isn’t something you need to run away from.) “I just– I startle easily and I was distracted and– Ohh, I didn’t mean to react like that, I promise!” Your hands clasp together in front of your chest, forcefully willing them to still as you pray that you didn’t just ruin this stranger’s day. You can’t imagine how anybody would feel getting that sort of reaction.

“...”

Unfortunately, your nerves only seem to build as you’re met with silence, but you can’t really blame him. With how volatile of a reaction you just showed, it must be hard for him to even think how to respond. Luckily, you’re not thinking enough for the two of you.

“Did you– Did you need something? I know this place like the back of my hand, spooked or not! NOT- Not that I’m scared of you! I just meant… despite having just gotten startled. Everything’s… Everything’s still in here.” You’re babbling, and when you knock against the side of your head for what you hope is a funny show of emphasis, maybe you do so a little more roughly than needed, as if that’d help build your communicative competence back up.

Unluckily for you, it doesn’t work to literally knock some sense back into you.

Luckily, though, it works well enough to snap the person in front of you into speaking.

“O-Oh! Please don’t worry about that!” He exclaims, voice pitched and startled, high and loud, and so unnervingly familiar that a new flash of goosebumps pass through you. Foolishly, you’d hoped you just misheard him the first time, but no. He really does just… sound like that. Discomfort flows through you all over again.

If you flinch, you hope he doesn’t notice.

“I should be the one apologising for scaring you! That’s not nice of me at all, no no no!” He speaks all while rapidly shaking his hands in front of him, and it’s all you can do to pretend that his attempts to reassure you do anything remotely positive at all. Every sound he makes feels grating in your mind, but you do your best to will down the bottomless pit threatening to pull you under.

Everything is fine. Everything is safe. You’re riling yourself up for no reason.

You shake your head, hoping the movement isn’t as robotic as it feels. “No, you did nothing wrong. If anybody was rude, it was me for acting that way with a customer!”

“But it’s because of me that you acted that way at all! You even hurt yourself! Are you okay? You sounded like you hit yourself super, duper hard and that’s just no good at all!”

“I’m fine! I just–”

“What is going on here?”

Both you and the stranger in front of you jolt to attention as Ana’s authoritative tone cuts you right off. Your neck hurts with the speed at which you swivel to look at her, breath catching in your throat once more, and you hope you don’t look nearly as panicked as you feel as her name leaves you, breathless.

It’s a relief to see her - so relieving you might cry, in fact - but that relief is quickly squandered with the way she all but glares at the tall patron a few steps in front of you. You don’t know when he cut off some of the space between you two, but you don’t have the time to wonder about that before Ana is stomping right up to him like a woman on a mission.

“What are you doing to my employee?” she accusingly questions the poor soul you dragged into this mess. Ana might not be the tallest person around, near dwarfed in comparison to this stranger who stands a full foot above her, but only a fool would think her to be unintimidating. She’s confident and stronger than she seems, and that’s saying something considering how sturdy her arms already look. You have no doubt in your mind that if she wanted, she could absolutely snap the lanky man in front of you if she wanted to.

And it definitely looks like she wants to.

His hands rise in an almost desperate show of peace, but whatever words he was going to say devolve into a pitiful whine as Ana almost jabs a finger into his chest. Before she can continue her tirade, however, you rush to push yourself between them with a strangled ‘Wait!’

This has spiralled so far out of control at this point that you feel dizzy, but by god, you’d really like to avoid a lawsuit and a fight.

“This is all just a misunderstanding!” One of your own design, at that, but that’s not important right now. Ana’s gaze flicks up at the stranger behind you, unconvinced, but you do your best to attract her attention back to you. “I was lost in my thoughts and got all jumpy when he came to ask for help! He didn’t do anything wrong or say anything bad, I promise. This is all on me.”

Ana says your name at the same time as you hear an almost offended ‘Hey now!’ from behind you, but whatever words the unfortunate soul behind you was gonna say dies with another glare from your boss. You don’t need to look behind you to guess that he’s all but cowering behind your form at this point.

Still… Ana doesn’t not seem convinced, at least.

She sighs, deep and heavy, and it’s only due to the sound that you release a shaky breath of your own, one you didn’t know you were holding, and let your shoulders sag.

“You mean it?” she asks, still suspicious, still so caring. It’d make your heart swell on any other occasion. As of right now though, you’re too hyped up on adrenaline to really feel the full force of her attempts at reassurance.

You nod as decisively as you can in this scenario. “I mean it.” You feel unnerved, like daggers are being pointed at you from behind, but you know that it’s all in your head. The man behind you shouldn’t suffer for your actions.

Thankfully enough, that seems to be enough for Ana to stand down at last, and the remaining vestiges of her righteous fury melts away into subtle sheepishness. She’s not ashamed, not by any stretch of the meaning, but she believes you. And that means that she has to come to terms with the fact that she all but yelled at a completely innocent patron for no reason.

Shuffling for a moment, Ana looks to the stranger, you, and back before her hand settles at the back of her neck, rubbing at the skin there with a twisted expression. “Guess I overreacted then…” she mumbles. “Sorry about that.”

It’s not the most heartfelt of apologies, despite you knowing it’s a genuine one, and for a moment, you’re afraid it won’t be enough. Your worries don’t last for very long though.

“Apology accepted!” the man behind you chirps, almost too cheery for someone that basically got threatened in every way except the words themselves, but when you look over your shoulder at him, his smile is bright and wide and so unbelievably warm that it’s hard to think it could be anything but perfectly real. “You were just trying to protect a friend, right? That’s very noble of you! Let’s just say nobody was at fault for this little misunderstanding…”

He must feel you staring, because suddenly, he looks at you, catching you red-handed. You almost jump again - emphasis on almost - but the way he tilts his head, ever smiling, is only kind. “Hmm?”

It takes you a moment to realise he’s looking for agreement from you and, dumbly, all you can do is nod.

Distantly, you hear one of the kids call Ana’s name, sounding both impatient and worried, and she winces minutely. Of course. She must’ve left the kids when she heard something was going on. A new lump of embarrassment and shame rises, but you don’t have the time to address it before she’s on the move.

Ana holds one edge of the bookshelf, and looks back to both of you, thoughtful and decisive at the same time. She hums. “We’ll leave it at that, then… If you do decide to get something, though, we’ll throw in a discount on the house. Actions speak louder than words for me.”

Before either one of you can argue - not that you ever would - Ana leaves and suddenly, the two of you are alone again. It’s silent for a moment.

The urge to apologise again rises within you, but the high sigh of relief from behind you cuts you off before you can.

“Hoo-ee! Well, wasn’t that a kerfuffle?”

Turning, you see the man with a hand over his heart, but with that same ol’ smile still plastered on his face. It’s only then that you notice you’re still standing just a bit too close for comfort, and scramble just a little to give him more room.

(Or maybe that’s just the excuse you tell yourself.)

“Yeah...” You just barely manage to bite back another apology. “At least… At least everything got cleared up in the end.” You can be grateful for that, if nothing else. If the stranger’s enthusiastic nod is anything to go by, he agrees. His curls bounce with the motion. You try to focus on that more than anything else, even if it still manages to remind you of something else.

“Absoposilutely!” That makes you stop for a moment.

You wonder if he’s trying to make you smile on purpose. Because it really, really feels like it. Or maybe he really is just that goofy.

(Don’t think any further than that. Don’t you dare.)

“What’s your name, anyways?” you ask, not willing to let your thoughts run away with you again. That doesn’t stop you from immediately regretting your word choice - why’d you have to ask it like that? - but thankfully, the kind stranger’s smile doesn’t budge even an inch.

With a flourishing display of jazz hands, the stranger finally gives you a name to put to his face. “You can call me Elio!” he excitedly introduces, and you return the favour while pushing down the seed of relaxation that passes through you. What did you expect him to say?

With introductions finally out of the way, Elio is more than happy to jump right into questions, asking about this book and that book, apparently having a little list in mind. The change of pace is enough to throw you off, but you adapt as best as you can. You lead him to where his newest little treasures lie, relishing in the smile you receive for a job well-done before moving on to the next. And then, when you finish getting him all of those books - stacked in a neat pile in the plastic basket you supplied him - he surprises you by asking you about your favourites.

He surprises you even more with how intently he listens to you describe some of your favourite books.

Elio isn’t the type to stand still for very long, you learn within mere minutes of his company, but he is rapt with attention whenever you speak. It makes it much too easy for you to blabber on for longer than expected, both due to the excitement of getting to promote your favourite stories and the underlying itch to distract yourself. His eyes aren’t particularly intense, per say, but you feel a touch unsteady all the same.

Your attempts at distraction work well enough for you to genuinely enjoy the time spent with him, but it doesn’t manage to make the approach to the cash register feel any less welcomed.

Elio, however, doesn’t seem to share the same opinion.

“But, but! I wanted to talk with you longer!” he whines, and he’s too endearingly disappointed for you to not feel some degree of bad. He’s pulling at your heart strings without knowing.

Your smile quirks slightly as you round your way around to the cash register, only still a touch stiff. “I mean… you could always come back, you know. The library is free of charge, after all.” Though you can’t exactly promise you’ll always be free to socialise… You don’t say that though, if only because you’re sure his frowny face might make you give a promise you can’t keep.

Still, Elio doesn’t seem fully convinced. He fiddles with his fingers, big brown eyes aimed downwards as you begin to scan his items. “I guess…”

You’re astounded as to how someone so tall can simultaneously look so small. You know you’ve done nothing wrong, and yet you still feel like you accidentally stepped on a puppy’s tail. It’s not lost on you that this isn’t the first time you come across a sentiment like this, but you push that thought aside because it’s different this time.

You’re startled out of your thoughts when, suddenly, Elio perks up. Before you can even ask what’s wrong - is something wrong? - his hand shoots quick as lightning to grab the last book you have yet to scan. Precisely, one of your favourite books that Elio had taken a shine to.

Your brows furrow, confusion mounting, but once again, you’re too slow.

“I don’t wanna buy this one!” he announces, but it’s almost a yell. You wince at the volume and he immediately recedes in on himself as another patron turns to him with a glower. He stage-whispers an apology their way, one they hardly seem to accept, before he turns back to you. “I… I don’t wanna buy this one,” he repeats, quieter this time. A bit too quiet, even, but that’s alright. 

“That… That’s okay, Elio,” you assure. Does he think you’d be mad at him for changing his mind? You don’t look that easy to offend, do you? “I can just put that back if you–”

“NO!”

“SHH!”

Elio squeaks. “Sorry!”

You really struggle not to laugh at the exchange, but end up giving up a snort when Elio looks back to you with a pout. For some reason, he seems to be in slightly better spirits after that though, so you can’t consider it a loss.

“I don’t wanna buy this one,” Elio reprises for the third time, but this time, he continues. “I wanna rent it instead. I can do that, right? Then I’d have to come back to return it, right? And maybe get another book?”

This guy… really does wear his heart on his sleeve, doesn’t he?

Endearment bubbles within you. “Yeah. If you rent it, you’ll have to come back in three weeks-”

“Three weeks?!”

This time, you can’t help the full-bodied laugh that leaves you. Maybe it’s mean to laugh at such an anguished cry… but come on.

“Or earlier, Elio. You can come as soon as you’re done with it if you want! I just mean that three weeks is the deadline. You can renew it if you want, too. We’ve just gotta make sure you don’t run away with it.”

Immediately, Elio’s hand finds its way back to his chest, and his back straightens fully. “I would never steal! Especially from such a wonderful establishment!” he half promises, half exclaims, and you’re surprised at how confidently you feel like you can believe him.

You really hope your gut is right this time.

“I don’t think you would, either. It’s just policy, okay?” Gently, you make a motion for him to pass you the book back. He only hesitates for a moment before sliding it back to you. “Then I’ll put this to rent and I’ll… see you some time in the next few weeks..?”

“Scout’s honour!”

You shake your head with a faint smile and begin to pack away his books. All but two of them - the book he’s renting and a very cute origami instruction manual - are gifts, so you go to add a little ribbon to each one, only pausing to check in and see if he wants to pick the colours instead.

You’re unsurprised by how quickly he jumps to the occasion.

All the while, as you make the last bits of small talk before Elio has to leave, you push back against your own brain. It’s making far too many connections than you’re comfortable with, and it takes everything in you not to rush this whole interaction to a close.

Maybe this is good for you, you try to reason. If you can get new, good memories, then maybe you won’t think about… about him anymore. There’s a term for that, you’re sure, but you’ll just have to Google that when you get home.

You apply Elio’s discount, despite him trying to weasel you into not using it, and with that, you say goodbye. Elio makes it incredibly hard to look away from him until he’s out the door in full, what with his big waves and promises to come back soon and tell you all about how much he liked your book, and in his final departure, he leaves behind a resonating silence.

A silence which is very fitting for a library… but it feels strange, too.

You still can’t really decide how you feel about that whole interaction, feeling muddled and drained and just a tad out of breath, but as Ana slides back up to your side, you make sure to only show her a smile.

— — — —

The bag of books swishes to and fro with every wide step. Every inch away from the bookstore feels like agony, building up an anxious energy that can only be relieved by picking up the pace. If it wasn’t for the fact that the bag might break, he might’ve just started running, but for now, he’s grounded, forced to quell his excitement.

‘… You need to think this through. We can’t— you can’t just go in like that. You saw how they were.’

“But think of the chances! This is like fate! If we weren’t meant to be friends again, then we wouldn’t meet like this, right? Right?” He can’t help himself. He starts to skip. “We can be friends again, isn’t that great? Then things can go right back to normal!”

Audibly, he stumbles.

“Or, well, n-not normal-normal since all of— oh, you know what I mean!”

He couldn't just ignore you. You had changed a little, sure, but you were still you. Plus! He’s changed a little, too! And you once called him your Forever Friend! That means he has to be your friend again. That’s in the name!

‘… Just… be careful.’

Petulantly, he whines, but a heavy sigh discourages him from saying anything. It’s filled with stress. Enough so as to dampen the energy behind his skipping.

‘Look, we just… we can’t do any more harm. We’ve already—‘

This time, he cuts himself off.

‘… I still think we should stay away.’

He frowns. It looks deeper than it is.

“Well… I think we deserve a little bit of normalcy back!”

He’s afraid to ask, but… “Don’t you?”

The silence he gets back is deafening.

… He liked it better when you were there to fill the noise.

#Daye writes #Runaway Coward #Déjà vu is such a funny thing isn’t it? #Life is just chalk full of completely unrelated coincidences #How fun :) #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sun x reader #moon x reader #writing

[getinthehandbasket]

If you write explicit sex on AO3 (and this includes detailed descriptions of oral sex, fingering, etc.), PLEASE mark it E, not M or T. Explicit sex is Explicit.

#fanfic #writing #ao3 #ao3 tagging #I'm looking at you October Daye fandom

[blue-mood-blue]

Well.

That certainly was a book, huh?

And now that my emotions have possibly settled and I am not normal about everything that happened, I think it’s a good time to share some thoughts.

I mean, first there’s the big one, right? Titania. People called it, and I’m so impressed by that, but what I’m more impressed by is the fact that this was the plan from the beginning and the series seeded enough clues that we COULD call it - I love that kind of thing. I love that feeling of being rewarded.

And the thing is, even though it was predicted? The confirmation didn’t do a thing to lessen the emotional impact. Every single time Toby talked to Stacy in this book, I felt this pit of dread somewhere under my heart - not even necessarily because the risk of Titania was present, but because of the love stretched out over the pit of reality dividing them. I think that line, when Toby said that Jessica stopped her dancing and that she thinks Stacy might have, too, is exactly right. She’s talking to a friend who is already dead and gone, in a way, and just hasn’t realized it yet. Toby is talking to a reality that’s crumbling to dust in front of her. And I felt every agonizing moment of it - every last, stolen moment they managed to have.

Fucking hell, though, Titania. The fucked up situation that she’s been in. The fact tht it hasn’t changed her, not that we can tell. The fact that Toby managed to look at her and wonder what damaged her… there’s more there, I think. And there’s a very large part of me that wonders if the weight of so many remembered lives, so many people she lived as, so many deaths of her own children, won’t… change her, somehow, in a way that it hasn’t caught hold yet. That could be wishful thinking, but what a thing if love of a mother - all of those mothers - managed to sink under her skin.

Also FUCKING OBERON. Holy shit. I think I assumed what everyone assumed, that he was… recovering, or waiting for the right moment to reinsert himself in the lives of his people, but no. No, he would willingly have stood aside and watched them kill each other. Would have to the end, only talked out of it by his daughter, and he deserved every harsh word he heard. He deserves more than some telling off (and I am DELIGHTED that Toby immediately hones in on the highest authority in the room to yell at, even when that means yelling at god). There is so much about parents doing poorly by their children in this series, but I have to admit, I wasn’t waiting for it from Oberon. He seemed… benevolent, the way he was described, and maybe he was but that doesn’t forgive him being one hell of a deadbeat.

That said, I think all of The Three have failed as parents. I’m not excluding Maeve in this, even though we haven’t met her - she could be wonderful and loving and still have her faults, and at this point (and honestly, as a general concept) I think it’s dangerous to place any of them on a pedestal.

Cannot believe that there are four fucking Firstborn just. Around, now. Not only does Toby have many aunt and uncle Firstborn, she’s got niece and nephew Firstborn now, too. However the hell that works. They’re still calling her aunt, anyway. FOUR of them. And all seers. The hell are they supposed to see.

(And isn’t that interesting, the idea that Faerie is making what and who it needs. That Oberon had to pick apart Toby’s purpose, that he didn’t make her that way.)

I am extremely interested in some of the details we learned about Faerie, too! I am increasingly certain that it’s a somewhat-sentient force, and that Toby talking to the knowes is gonna translate to her talking to Faerie in its entirety. I feel like the Heart is going to be incredibly important, possibly requiring Toby to do something about that leak that it’s apparently sprung. (And boy oh boy am I feeling something about the “oh we definitely didn’t HAVE to sacrifice any humans to it, it just worked better, so we did”)

Sylvester. Can we talk about Sylvester? I spent many, many sections of this book side-eyeing him, hoping he was HEARING some things and chewing them over. First, hearing Simon’s side of things - knowing, without a doubt, that as horrible as what Simon did was, it was still a twisting of Eira’s words to protect Luna, Raysel, and Toby. I hope he heard what Simon said, and that it occurred to him that had anyone else been given that order, had someone who loved him less been pointed towards his family, it could have been so much worse. His loss could have been so much worse. Not that it forgives what Simon did, not that Simon would want easy forgiveness, but… that could have been so bad. And then Raysel, wanting the time away from his home, Toby telling him in no uncertain terms that what should have been her home has been withheld from her and that’s why he doesn’t know what her plans are, that she crept around Shadowed Hills like a criminal and looked for the quickest escape from him…

And more than that. More than that, stabbing Simon through the stomach. Because I’m sure that blade belonged to Sylvester, and that might be the first moment he knew, truly knew, what a fight it is to throw off a compulsion. How easy it is to destroy your own life, destroy the lives of others, when someone that much more powerful than you doesn’t give you a choice.

He’s got a hell of a lot more work to do, but it’s a start and I’m happy to see it. Also he should absolutely take Simon’s advice and get a divorce - I understand his loyalty to Luna, but he said outright she doesn’t and can’t love him anymore; he doesn’t need to sacrifice everything else for a loveless marriage. (And maybe now that he’ll have more people in his life, hopefully, he’ll start to understand that.)

(Speaking of people in someone’s life… I am thinking about found family. I am thinking about Oberon’s recognition of Toby’s found family as hers, written right into the binding he set on Titania. I don’t know what it means yet, but maybe it means something.)

Then, of course…

TOBY IS PREGANTE.

I mean, I figured during the scene with Melly - with the onions, but also Melly commenting about “so it’s a happy marriage is it” that made me start narrowing my eyes in suspicion. A little soft that Simon found out so soon, and extremely amused that so many people knew before she or Tybalt did. And what soft moments they could have! Preparing, telling the family, thinking of names…

AND THEN MOTHERFUCKING GODDAMN TITANIA WALKS IN THE GODDAMN HOUSE. Tybalt got two minutes, tops, to be happy about being a father when October started screaming in his arms, and don’t think that’s not gonna feature in more than a few nightmares ahead of him.

I honestly have no idea what exactly that last chapter means. My immediate thought, what with “making Toby someone else’s problem” was that she got grabbed and taken back to Amandine to deal with - Titania does seem like the “teach your child some manners” sort, and Simon and August were out of the Undersea at that point so it’s not impossible they got grabbed, too. I’ve heard compelling arguments that she might be asleep, too, under a very intricate and heavy illusion (given that it was the queen of illusions who did whatever the fuck, and the next book’s title). Both options are agonizing - I don’t know which one I’m siding with (on one hand, Simon should not have to deal with that again, on the other, I am extremely tempted at the idea of August and Toby forming some kind of relationship), but I will be considering all possibilities because if I’m being honest. As devastating a place as that was to leave things, I do love the “trapped in an illusionary dream world” and also the idea of Toby maybe possibly getting a little bit rescued when things are usually the other way around (and listen, this is good for my angsty, fic-writing heart, let me have this).

No matter what it turns out to be, though? The line about the cat in the garden absolutely gutted me.

AND NOW. WE WAIT.

#october daye #october daye spoilers #be the serpent #AAAAAAAA #god #that was SUCH a book #i am feeling MANY emotions #and the immediate urge to write fic so we’ll see what comes of that?? #but MAN #many thoughts head full

[leecrazylove]

We ain’t gotta be all out together girl. Maybe we’re better misunderstood.

#music #literature #writing #poetry #lucky daye

[displayheartcode]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - Seanan McGuire perfectly understands how to write a pay off that’s both emotionally and narratively satisfying

#between everything with the crossroads in the incryptids/ghost roads books and HOW BE THE SERPENT KILLED ME #she knows when fans will recognize her foreshadowing and will make it count in the best way possible #I could probably write an entire paper for indexing alone #seanan mcguire #october daye #toby daye #incryptid #ghost roads #sm

[lavenoon]

FINALLY I HAVE THE TIME TO CATCH UP HERE. Luce, you are a balm during these trying times <3 Brain is too foggy for proper compliments, but know I’m feeling much emotion and am goofy smiling at all times.

Also! I have prompt suggestion!

I think “Stay, if you want” would be a wonderful prompt for a hesitant Moon. I know you said to specify which AU AU, but honestly, I could see AU Canon Moon and Reverse Robin saying this so I leave it to you!

I think of AU Canon Moon, who is so used to only getting to interact with Robin while On The Go, having a moment - JUST a moment - where the two of them overlap without an immediate concern to worry about. And it’s a rare olive branch, maybe a rare invitation not quite to let Robin *in* but instead to invite some calm. Less rivalry tension, just… existing in the same space together.

Alternatively, given Reverse Moon’s reclusive and shy disposition, I can see him excusing himself from wherever he encounters Robin. Mailbox? He’ll check it later. Rooftop? He’ll excuse himself. So maybe *Robin* could just… remind him he doesn’t need to leave. They might not necessarily WANT to get all involved in their tenant’s life - especially while being so reserved with their own - but… Moon shouldn’t need to feel like he needs to walk around them, and maybe Robin just wants him to feel more at ease.

Just <3 Being allowed to Be with someone and realizing that maybe they *want* you around even if you’re not the best of friends.

-🌻 Daye

Convergence, Canon Drabble, ~1.2K Words

Dusk and Robin sit for a little, each thinking their own thoughts.

The one that's been in my askbox long enough to perfectly slot into the plot where it is right now <3

#answer let luce #Daye asks #fnaf sb #fnaf sb au #fnaf moon #accidentally undercover #my fic #this was a lot of fun to write and even more so knowing what's to come #hehehe #but this one's a sweet one #no angst #Moon's all out-angsted (for now) #he's ready to hope #pspsps yall come get ur (non eclipse) food #au au au will also at some point get attention again prommy #god this au got away from me fr lmao #but yea <3 have fun <3