#Only sunsets and explosions in star wars

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5][Pt.6][Pt.7]

As someone who lived in the middle of nowhere, Amity, the ocean both terrified and enthralled Danny Fenton.

The first time his parents took him to the beach, it was the middle of the day and he’d been stuck in the prototype GAV for hours upon hours on their “quick, ghost rumor hunting field trip.”

It wasn’t quick, and they caught exactly zero ghosts. When Danny saw the expanse of sand underneath the summer sun, he and Jazz both bounded out of the van like feral little monkeys. Danny and Jazz sprinted down the sand, their parents ambling behind them with their arms loaded up with towels, a first aid kit, and an ungodly amount of mildly ecto contaminated food that they already fought before getting onto the beach.

Danny had splashed into the water, yelped at the freezing temperature, and then promptly found a shell to keep. His mom taught him how to swim with the waves, having come from Surf City herself, and his dad taught Jazz how to dive.

It was a day full of fond memories, especially the memory of the Great War of Sand-Castle Crushing he and Jazz waged against each other.

They stuck around for the sunset, the ripples of colors and peacefulness that swept across the vast waters caught Danny in its hold.

He hadn’t forgotten that moment. Not even when he died.

After a particularly hard day as Phantom, Danny would fly to the coast and loose hours just sitting on the sand and watching the waves lap against the shore. And when those nights were clear? It felt like a slice of his own personal heaven, with the stars shining on his shoulders and the encompassing crash of the waves sheltering his heart.

And on some days, when being Danny left him frustrated, Danny would fly out to the coast and use his intangibility to walk beneath the waves. Near the coast, it’s cloudy with swirls of moving sand and disturbed waters. He walked, and walked, and floated and floated beneath the waters, taking contentment from the way the moonlight of his stars filtered through the water. He admired the way light would glint on the scales of fish and crustaceans alike as he floated beneath the surface. On those days, Danny would pick up trash and polluted things and bring them to shore, to place in the trash cans and all of the recycling cans. He picked up shells and decorated the beaches he frequented, because if it were decorated, perhaps people would refrain from chucking their waste into the sea.

Well, usually, it’d be trash.

Danny watched speechlessly, jaw cracked open just a smidge, as an explosion happened right over his head. The distortion of the water did not hide the fact that there were large chunks of plane pelting down at him, a different figure flying away from the explosion. Danny went invisible and intangible as large metal pieces plunged into his current water space.

“Gosh, people these days,” he huffed. “This is gonna take forever to…”

Danny trailed off, seeing a humanoid shape crash into the water, clearly unconscious. Danny didn’t hesitate before shooting towards the drowning person, glowing green and fully visible again. The stranger’s eyes- holy shit, that’s Batman- turned towards him before closing behind cracked open lenses. Batman slumped falling unconscious. That’s not good.

Danny rocketed out of the water with the vigilante in his arms. If it weren’t for his supernatural strength, there’s no way lanky teenage Danny would have been able to carry Batman’s grown ass built like a tank self to the shore. Likewise, if it weren’t for his strength, Danny wouldn’t have been able to start chest compressions through the layers of armor.

Danny leaned back with a sigh as Batman coughed out only a bit of water, because Danny hadn’t taken all that long to get to him, and held up his hands in a “I don’t have weapons” way as Batman whirled to him.

“Hi. Are you alright?” Danny asked, ectoplasm and instinctive ghost speak fuzzing his words a bit. Damn, Batman must have nearly died a lot. He’ll freak out about meeting Batman later.

“You saved me,” an awkward pause. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. The other guy went that way.”

Danny waved vaguely.

“…What are you?”

“Oh my god, Batman, you can’t just ask someone what they are!” He immediately replied, inwardly smacking himself for the joke. He watched Batman’s face, watching for any sign of discrimination against ghosts, or any sign the man had a sense of humor.

“…”

Neither, apparently, was the answer.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here to clean up the beaches. You humans really like to pollute the beaches. It’s quite rude, you know. That plane of yours, well, it’s not your fault,” he amended. “But it’s gonna damage sea life. And I don’t know if you’re in the habit, but please don’t litter on the beach or in the water, especially with your unconscious body. It’s tedious to clean.”

“…I see.”

“Stay. I’ll take out your plane. Make sure it doesn’t stay on the sand, alright?”

With that, Danny stood. Unaware of the way the moonlight lit up his hair like white flames and accentuated the sharp points of his ears, Danny turned away and flew back to the plane site, dragging the pieces up with ease.

Batman sat on the sand, likely exhausted from his fight, and watched him carry the pieces of the aircraft up.

“Here. All done. I gotta get going,” because Danny has school and this just lost him two hours. “Will you be alright?”

Batman nodded once, sharply.

“Good.” Danny went invisible, watching Batman sat up straighter, glancing around in a suddenly visible awareness. Oh, well. Tucker’s gonna freak out.

——

Three years later, Danny’s moved to Gotham for university.

And after midterm season, Danny went for a ghostly walk, but this time, in the waters surrounding Gotham.

When he surfaced, Batman was crouching on a lamp post, waiting for him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Danny said. “Hello. Did you know that people are polluting these waters with bodies too?”

“Yes,” Batman said, graveled voice resounding on the shipping containers around them.

“You should do something about that. Do you like places that are polluted?”

Batman sighed. “What are you?”

Danny hears a small, tinny voice by Batman’s ear, coming from a comm.

“Oh my god, B, you can’t just ask someone what they are!”

Mind flashing back to the night Danny drug a waterlogged Batman out of the ocean, Danny cracked a smile.

“Phantom,” he said, decisively. And, because this isn’t Amity anymore, “the Beach Clean Up crew from the flip side.”

——

Bruce, waking up on the sand: wtf

Bruce, seeing a child next to him who probably saved him: wtf (in “adoption”)

Bruce, seeing Danny’s skin glitter like stars, hair aflame, and pointy ears: wtf (in “I can adopt fae folk, right?”)

Bruce, seeing that Danny doesn’t leave any footprints: wtffff (detective mind goes brrrr)

——

Bruce, after Danny leaves: *donates 20 mil towards beach clean up efforts and anti-pollution causes*

——

Bruce’s Goggle Search History, documented by Oracle:

Sea spirits

Sea vampires

How to parent supernatural kids

How to thank your sea child

Are shells a good gift?

Ocean conservation efforts

Sea spirits that glitters under moonlight

Sea spirits that cleans up beaches

Wayne corporation waste disposal

Companies that dump trash into the sea

*outgoing call to Lucius Fox*

What is “mean girls”

——

Bruce, learning “current pop culture” from his kids:

Bruce, remembering the kid who saved him and realizing he’s probably as old as his own kids are: *adoption tendencies intensifies*

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #Danny picks Batman up like a waterlogged shoe #like this isn’t supposed to be in the sea #I live near a beach #please do not litter on a beach #I saw someone leave one of those plastic mesh bags for oranges and a seagul got stuck in it #beaches are precious #fight me #bamf danny phantom #bruce wayne #Bruce Wayne: I’ve seen a sea spirit #Danny Fenton: Batman is littering on the beach with his plane #dc x dp crossover #oracle #oh my god Batman you can’t just ask someone what they are #sea cryptic! danny AU

[hellotherekenobi]

Like A Living Mirage.

Summary: before everything Obi-Wan hoped in crumbled, he knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He just never imagined twin suns in his future.

Word Count: 2,382

A/N: Based on this song & this ask & to the user whose blog was deactivated before I could finish the request. I hope this finds you in another life.

CW/TW: Obi-Wan’s POV; mentions of Order 66, injury, blood, & death; just pure fluff otherwise.

Sunsets where the oranges and pinks melt together into a simmering and radiant red, golden on the skyline.

There are many aspects of life that are beautiful.

Dew-covered viridescent leaves after the rain has poured, soaking into the dirt and enveloping what feels like the entire earth in a rich, refreshing aroma.

Twilight nights when the stars glitter and glow, reflected in the ripples on the lake below like a mirror to the sky.

There is so much beauty in everything, and even more to discover in the unknown. But no beauty compares to you.

Obi-Wan has known since the moment he laid eyes on you that you are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. Growing to know you only added to that beauty, being able to see so much of your personality in your appearance.

It doesn’t matter what you wear, or how you style yourself, he is always going to believe that beauty begins and ends with you. Even your voice is radiant. He’s never truly understood addictions, but he can very well say that he’s addicted to you.

Which makes the separation more painful.

Being both Jedi, you each had your respective roles in the war. It wasn’t pretty and as it closed, it only got worse. Many brave soldiers died and many innocent people, too. Even friends.

With his Jedi duty, Obi-Wan had much weighing down on his shoulders. He had lost his brother, Anakin, to the Dark Side, and the war was lost as well. He had trained and fought and failed, and all that was left was an empty shell of a man who once thought hope was more powerful than anything.

Despite the years and the pain, he tries to keep that hope. Anakin and Padmé’s children—the boy, Luke, and the girl, Leia—were cared for under reliable hands. But Obi-Wan could not sit there and do nothing, so he promised to look after the boy on Tatooine, though his help wasn’t entirely welcomed.

It is not an easy task, which is why he had hoped—there that word is again—that you would be by his side to help him.

That was not the case.

He remembers it all too well, having seen you laid on the marble and cracked floor of the Jedi Temple, flattened under a crumbled structure that once held the ceiling but caved under what most likely was an explosion.

There was blood and soot and dust as far as the eye could see, and he prayed with each shaken breath that you were alive. He had lost his brother, he could not lose another piece of his heart.

The Jedi masters before him must have heard his prayers, as when he kneeled to the floor and grabbed your hand tightly, you had coughed yourself back to consciousness, having fallen under after the impact.

Your battalion had turned on you, as did all the clones during that time. Fortunately, you were assumed dead by them and they had left you there. Obi-Wan fears, even now, that had he been even a few minutes later in finding you, you might have been truly dead.

Come with me, he had spoken to you when you both stumbled down the hallway. Come away with me, just the two of us. But you had turned down his offer. Much like he had Anakin, you had someone important as well and you wanted to find them.

But you promised him that one day you would reunite. One day the two of you would be together since the Order had fallen and there was no devotion left to lean upon. Yes, you would meet him one day and you would give him your heart, just as he gives you his—has given you his—and life would never be spent waiting again.

You promised him and he, ever the patience lover, waited for you.

He still does. Obi-Wan waits for you on sandy hills, in darkened corners in cantinas he’d much rather stay out of but he had a duty and he gave his word. He waits under starlit nights, in the concentration he gives to laborious tasks, in each whisper of your name on his lips when he misses you like the sun misses the moon when it rises.

The most he sees of you are in the mirages early in the morning, or late in the afternoon when the twin suns are especially hot. Glossy and rippling against the land, looking like glass or water. When he’s lonely, he looks out across the mirage and he sees you walking toward him with a smile on your lips as you tell him he ought to be more patient.

But patience is never worn gracefully on a broken heart.

When he opens his mind to the thoughts of you and of the war, of what he left behind and what had fallen before he did, every little mistake comes through. He’s tortured by past actions, past words, and past hesitations.

Had he given his hand to you all those years ago and whisked you both away from everything, would things be different?

He knows things would most likely be worse. Though he torments himself with cruelties of how he is at fault for Anakin’s betrayal, he knows deep down that had he not been there at all then maybe there would be more pain inflicted on the galaxy.

How he wishes the pain would surrender his heart, however. He feels aged more by that than by the years, or the grey hairs now featured on his appearance.

Would you still love him, knowing he’s grown older? Of course, everyone does, but he imagines you would never. Your beauty, your presence, is evergreen and glistening. You could walk into his life with wrinkles and he’ll still believe you as more beautiful than when he saw you last.

How time makes a fool of everyone. He wilts away in Tatooine sand, watching his life unfold to him in dreams. In memories.

“Tell me again,” you smiled at him once on a sunkissed afternoon, sitting on marble steps leading into a natural pond.

He was just a padawan then but you, oh Maker—you were the glow of the sun, heating him up from the inside out. He wanted to spend every day with you when there you both sat waiting for your masters, your boots beside you as you swayed your feet in the water.

His cheeks were rosy when you smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but feel delighted. “You are timeless,”

Your face lit up and you laughed, something heartful and bashful in such a serene way. He wanted to make you laugh like that all the time.

“And lovely,” he continued, teasing further but his words were drenched in honesty. “And divine, and splendid,”

Obi-Wan shuffled closer to where you sat, his arm brushing up against yours and leaning into you as you turned your face away. He hadn’t needed to see it to know you were still smiling at him, still loving the tender words he flourished to you.

“And beautiful,” he whispered next, his hand gently placed upon your shoulder.

“Tell me once more,” you had replied in a similar whisper, turning your face toward him, so close and alluring as your eyes glanced at his mouth.

“You are so beautiful,”

He would have kissed you then, had it not been for your master’s voice reaching you both from the top of the staircase. It was enough to draw you away from him, yet that smile remained bright across your lips which he yearned to know.

“You are a tease, Obi-Wan—” you laughed, standing up from the pond, your feet wet as you dipped down to his level to kiss his cheek. “Never change.”

He promised to stay that way for you and he did, even when times grew tough and challenges turned great. He remained the whimsical boy he was beside the pond that afternoon if only to hear you laugh again like you were both children, not peacekeepers.

Despite the eloquence of training and maturing under the Jedi wing, you two were ever young at heart; constantly teasing and flirting with each other, much to the disapproval of your master. Though he wonders what Qui-Gon would have said about it had he not suffered, living long enough to see the way Obi-Wan’s affections grew for you with the years.

No matter how long it had been, Obi-Wan was always youthful around you. Even when he gained more responsibility in the Order. He felt as if he lived two separate lives, though that was hardly the case. But with the Council, with Anakin, with the soldiers and allies, he was responsible. Around you, he was giddy, romantic, and slightly senseless.

He tried desperately to remain the same when you parted ways, but the truth was that he was anguished. And he let honor fall.

“You promise me, won’t you, Obi-Wan?” Your voice was muffled in his shoulder, your arms wrapped tightly around him.

It was one of the few moments he had ever held you in his arms. This time, completely wrapped up in you with his cheek pressed to your temple, and words ebbing from his grieved lips.

“I promise you deeply,” he murmured, holding you tighter. “I will wait until my dying breath. Just promise me that you’ll be there.”

“I will—” you kissed his cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “I will come back to you, Obi-Wan.”

“Please,” his voice was weak, wilting helplessly. “Please, my love,”

He could not let you go. He was not ready to do so, not when he was alone. But he knew you had a commitment like he once had and he could not hold you from it, no matter how desperately he wanted to be the one you ran to.

Time was melting at the seams as his fingers caressed your face, hooking under your jaw and earlobe, like a man desperate to keep ahold of a precious possession. Your eyes were glossy from tears, but your lips were near. He couldn’t let you go like this.

So, he pleaded. “Kiss me.”

When you leaned forward without any hesitation, as if you were waiting for him to ask you, he felt himself come alive. He sparked bright, gleaming iridescent against your lips. Soft but ardent touches restored his broken hope, giving him more life than anything before him ever did or ever will again.

There he opened his heart to you. He parted his lips and opened his lungs, breathing in your love. It was stronger than anything he’s ever felt before, and he holds onto that feeling—onto the memory of your lips against his own and your fingers wrapped around his robes—when he looks across the horizon, waiting to see you return to him.

One day, you’ll be in his arms again if he just waits.

When you find him, you won’t find Obi-Wan. You’ll find Ben; a worker on Tatooine with no family behind him and none to plan for in the future. You’ll find a man with callouses and scars on his skin, with dusted clothes and lines under his eyes. He won’t be exactly the same, but he hopes you’ll have him.

The wind kicks up the layers of clothes you wear when you walk the distance of the skyline to where he sits, aching on a rock that acts like a surface to perch on, somewhere in the depths of the mirage.

It’s not real, he knows that. You’re not really here. He’s seen your face so many times in this same place in those hopeful wishes of his. Though, this time, you look different from what he’s usually imagined. He’s remembered you in Jedi robes. You’re not wearing them this time.

How the sky could laugh at him when he, for a moment, tips into the belief that he’s not dreaming this time. But that can’t be the case. You’ve promised him and he’s never doubted your word, but surely...

Have you found him yet?

The figure of you keeps walking toward him. You don’t disappear into the mirage like you so often do. Instead, you grow nearer and Obi-Wan imagines something he’s never had before; the sound of your boots scraping across the sand.

And you stop in front of him, and he’s squinting up at you like a fool, and you tug the scarf covering the lower half of your face.

And you speak. “I hope you haven’t sat in the sun all day,”

He sits there silently, still watching you. Still waiting for you to disappear. Then you take another step toward him, reaching out to card gentle fingers through the grey in his hair.

“You’re quite handsome in silver.”

Your touch wakes him up and he slowly takes your hand in his, removing your fingers so happily dancing between auburn and grey strands. Immediately, holding your hand—the feeling of your skin underneath his fingertips—assures him that he’s not dreaming at all.

“My love,” he says breathlessly, pressing dazed lips against your palm.

You come down to your knees, brushing your fingers along his cheeks as you hold his face with both your hands.

“I’m here, Obi-Wan,” you smile at him. “I’m here to stay.”

There’s no stopping it, so Obi-Wan lets himself cry. Tears stream down his cheeks as he kneels down to you, and you wrap your arms around him in a hug that he began to think he might never feel again.

Everything was waiting here for you and now every word you spoke to him rings true. Your promise came to life and he’s come alive again at your touch, feeling for the first time in all the years it’s been that he’s a boy again and you’re the padawan he wanted to make laugh all the time.

Belief in hope is a powerful thing, but belief in the one you love is revitalizing.

And Obi-Wan loves you, ever since he was a boy. He loves you forever. He loves you on into the next life. He loves you as the stars climb the sky, under which he marries you just like he himself promised on a sunkissed afternoon by the pond.

Taglist: @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @alwayssleepingforreal @kyber-crystal @immoral-rose @bloodybunnyuwu @nagitokomaeda-onthe-nintendo-ds @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @princessxkenobi @mythandmagik @i-cant-hear-you16 @pradahux @inukako @whyiminlove @cosmicsierra @dxnxdjarxn @voidmalfoy @darthkenobii @iamtracyz @chogisss @nectav @disastereyebags @hellolitty @stareyeddie @liviiii98 @dameronology @overly-obssessed-with-you @onewholikesthings @shadowhuntyi @greeneyedblondie44 @doublesunsets @night-ace @mkr31011

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi-wan kenobi imagine #obi-wan imagine #obi-wan kenobi fanfic #obi-wan fanfic #obi-wan kenobi fanfiction #obi-wan fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine

[atelliernana]

The Truth I Couldn't Deliver

Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

The song linked above inspired this fic.

Reblogs are appreciated 🥺

MASTERLIST

"You called me here just to thank me?"

No, not really - is what you want to say but instead

"Yep! Just want to thank you for training with me. From our first year to our last year here UA. You just had been really really patient with me and I've learned a lot from you. So thank you!"

Vermillion eyes look at you with much skepticism. He doesnt look an ounce convinced of what you just said. You, on the other hand, maintained your best eye contact. It'll suck for you if the explosive soon-to-be pro-hero will find you out. Bakugo Katsuki is a lot of things and one of them is being incredibly smart, sometimes you wonder if the actual nerd is him and not his green haired childhood friend.

"Oi y/n, you're welcome. You're not too bad to train with."

With that the blonde turns around and take his leave while you slowly exhale the breath that you unknowingly hold. Thanking all your lucky stars that he actually bought your last minute story.

Or so you think

"And one more thing you nerd, just message me whenever you find the balls to tell me whatever it is you ACTUALLY wanted to tell me."

Your breath hitches at his last statement. Damn Bakugo and his sixth sense for liars.

The truth is, you summoned him to confess your feelings. Something which you have hoped to do once the war finished but given all the has transpired, you chose to forego the confession till a much suitable time which happened to be now - a week from graduation.

And whats supposed to be a blissful, heart stopping occassion turned out to be a last minute flop from your side. See, as you were waiting for the blonde's appearance the little monsters in your head (which you thought you've managed to kept under lock and key within the depths of your mind) had a little tetè-a-tetè with you.

"You really think he's gonna accept your confession? I mean he is one of the current big 3s. You think he has time for something as petty as love? And even if he does, who are YOU for him to accept? You aren't special enough. If there's someone that he'll go for, wouldn't it be Ochako-chan? She's grown really strong plus she's totally cute and super kind too. A real hero in the making. She belongs in their league. And you? What do you have? A broken childhood with a trauma on the side? What can your quirk offer? The best thing you can be is Recovery Girl's assistant at best. Don't be too full of yourself. Just because Bakugo gave you some of his time doesn't mean he'll like you back. You're gonna give the guy unnecessary burden. Stop this love bullshit. You can't be loved, y/n-chan"

Said one of the little monster living rent free inside your head. 10 minutes passed and Bakugo hasn't arrived, maybe if he did the words wont marinate long enough inside your head. But the damage has been done and the words sink in further into you. It opened some wounds that you thought were already closed and prode open the ones that has yet to heal - enough to cause some sting.

You decided your little friend is right. Bakugo is too good to be true. Someone like you can only dream and while your dreams have placed you close enough to shorten the distance between the two of you, its better not to continue further lest you turn to Icarus and fly too close to the sun.

And so when the blonde (literal) bombshell came into view, you spun a last minute tale of gratitude to replace what was a years long confession. Because if anything, this is for the best. No burden on the boy and no more potential wound to you. You dont need a new batch to tend to when the ones you have have yet to heal.

So as the silouhette of the boy of your dreams disappear further into the sunset, you held your hands close to your mouth in an effort to subdue the sniff and tears thay threathen to come. And in the depths of your mind, your little monster comes and pat you on the head.

"Its better this way y/n-chan"

#bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #bnha writing #bnha fic #bnha imagines #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #mha angst #bnha angst #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo x you

[believinginpink]

[ grace van dien | cis woman | she/her/hers | twenty-four ] ——   welcome to grimrose, cassiopeia moore. it’s cool that you’re here, you know. haven’t you heard of the history of this place… anyway, how’s being a local who has been in town for fifteen years, especially since you spend most of your days as an employee at the clearing: museum of cryptids and curiosities? also, not that it’s a bad thing, of course, but i’ve heard people say you can be a little eccentric more than you are kind… but that’s just coming from people who are bored here, i promise. to me, you remind me of you spin me round by dead or alive and ink stained fingers, loose papers in a bag, excitement bubbling over, an old blue bicycle, lattes, believing anything, sunsets over the water. hope to see you around, cassie.

Basics:

Full Name: Cassiopeia Moore

Nickname(s): Cassie, Cass

Name Meaning:  She who chooses to excel

Age: 24

Date of Birth: July 2nd, 1974

Place of Birth: Portland, Maine

Currently Living: Grimrose, New Hampshire

Gender: Cis woman

Pronouns: She/her/hers

Sexual Orientation: Tragically heterosexual

Religion: Agnostic

Job: Employee at The Clearing: Museum of Cryptids and Curiosities

Educational Level: Bachelors in History and a minor in English

Family: Cooper James “CJ” Moore (Father, estranged), Lyra Moore née Darren (Mother, estranged), Maia Moore (Twin sister, deceased)

Finances: Remarkably solid

Languages: English, French, Latin

Inspired By:

Fox Mulder (The X-Files), Sumire Yoshizawa (Persona 5 Royal), Donna Hayward (Twin Peaks), Luna Lovegood (Harry Potter), Dipper and Mabel Pines (Gravity Falls), Sasha (The Magnus Archives), Bev Marsh (IT), Miles Upshur (Outlast), Aerith Gainsborough (Final Fantasy 7), Abigail Roberts (Red Dead Redemption series), Padmé Amidala (Star Wars).

Personality:

Positives: Kind, driven, honest, vivacious

Negatives: Eccentric, reserved, guilty, gullible

MBTI: INFP

Enneagram: 9w1

Temperament: Sanguine

Encountering Cassiopeia

You came to Grimrose for the beach and stayed an extra week for the stories of the place. You never considered yourself to be interested in the tales Grimrose was peddling to people like you, but there was only so much to do here. Eventually, that museum in The Outskirts had to visited. You didn’t expect to meet a contained explosion of pink there, though. Her makeup was perfectly done and she looked like someone managed to bring a Barbie to life. How someone like that was working in a place like this, you had no idea. She was cute though. Figured you might as well shoot your shot, leave this little place with the story of a summer fling.

When the group she was helping left and she shuttled them on her way with a wave of manicured fingers, she turned to a notebook, stuffed with loose papers in black ink, the same ink that stained her hands. She held that book like it held the secrets of the world, like it was a lover. You messed with your hair, trying to look artfully disheveled. “Hey,” you greeted as you walked over. “What’re you working on? Your next great novel?”

She turned to you with a smile. “I’m charting historical Bigfoot sightings and then cross referencing them with UFO sightings! I think the Grays that I’ve been seeing might be related to a previously unknown species of ape-like creatures that we think are Bigfoots! We’ll see if there’s any relation to my theory that the Jersey Devil is a more mutated Chupacabra!”

It seems you made a mistake.

#grimrosehqs.intro #bubblegum: about #bubblegum: muse

[thronesfms]

PLOT  DROP  FOUR  .    𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍  .

the  full  moon  pales  in  its  beauty  compared  to  the  red  comet  flying  high  through  the  dead  of  the  night  ,  the  star’s  long  tail  dragon  -  like  with  a  fire  red  color  ,  crimson  like  the  warm  blood  of  dying  soldiers  and  sweet  sunsets  .  the  ominous  glow  of  the  bleeding  star  appearing  as  a  bad  omen  for  the  worst  to  come  :  a  herald  for  war  .  the  clock  strikes  midnight  ,  the  witching  hour  alive  ,  and  the  bedding  ceremony  begins  yet  both  groom  and  bride  are  a  lacking  presence  in  the  great  hall  .

guests  seek  out  the  newly  wedded  pair  within  the  keep  and  outside  on  the  royal  grounds  .  the  sound  of  brightly  colored  fireworks  seduce  nobles  to  move  toward  the  gardens  and  view  the  spectacle  that  is  the  red  comet  and  kaleidoscope  of  hues  together  .  nothing  in  king’s  landing  is  ever  that  innocent  and  pure  .  as  bursts  of  color  kiss  the  sky  ,  small  explosions  go  off  inside  the  castle  ——  trapping  those  searching  for  the  dragonstone  nobles  ,  caught  under  large  blocks  of  pale  red  stone  and  becoming  entombed  on  aegon’s  hill  .  the  first  casualties  of  the  night  fall  ,  far  away  from  others  to  hear  their  pained  screams  as  it  downs  upon  them  they  will  not  be  saved  .  the  royal  palace  now  their  grave  .

as  everyone  gathers  in  the  gardens  ,  nobles  are  too  entranced  by  the  celestial  phenomenon  (  the  bedding  ceremony  half  -  forgotten  )  to  pay  attention  to  their  surroundings  ,  and  the  way  the  trees  seem  to  be  alive  ——  shadows  waiting  for  the  right  moment  to  attack  .  absolutely  no  one  notices  the  strategically  shot  arrows  toward  the  red  keep  ,  nor  do  they  notice  the  burning  trees  hidden  under  the  comet’s  flaming  glow  ——  a  perfect  match  that  sets  their  world  ablaze  .  the  acrid  smoky  smell  starts  to  fill  the  outdoor  air  as  it  overtakes  the  salty  sea  breeze  but  it  is  the  deafening  dragon  roars  that  awaken  the  westerosi  aristocracy  and  guests  .  what  follows  is  the  sweltering  heat  of  dragon  flames  ,  scorching  the  grounds  as  the  red  castle  is  swallowed  alive  by  inferno  .

the  panicked  screams  of  nobles  mixes  with  the  outcries  of  serpentine  dragons  ,  bodies  dressed  in  decadent  cloth  hastily  make  their  way  out  of  the  blooming  green  oasis  caught  on  fire  .  nobles  meet  the  earthen  ground  as  they  fail  to  leave  ,  burried  under  the  fleeing  masses  stuck  in  purgatory  :  the  perfect  prey  for  hungry  winged  monsters  .  those  who  are  able  to  escape  unharmed  have  another  challenge  to  overcome  as  smaller  explosions  go  off  in  the  red  keep  .  everything  is  green  .

the  wildfire  leaves  lasting  scorching  burn  marks  on  the  cursed  servants  trapped  in  the  web  of  devouring  heat  .  and  the  nobility  is  lucky  enough  to  escape  though  many  have  lost  their  loved  ones  in  the  chaos  ——  only  the  brave  daring  to  find  them  in  between  the  rubble  and  ever  -  lasting  blasts  of  fire  .  as  the  attackers  ,  seemingly  unnoticeable  like  ghosts  ,  grab  their  swords  and  daggers  to  end  the  life  of  whoever  crosses  their  path  ;  however  ,  most  of  raiders  meet  the  dragons  that  escaped  their  pit  ——  dracarys  .  the  defense  of  the  people  and  their  home  only  made  tumult  worse  ;  there  is  only  one  thing  stronger  than  wildfire  :  dragonfire  .

seeing  the  situation  escalate  to  the  depths  of  tartarus  ,  the  royal  -  born  targaryens  run  to  the  dragons  and  try  to  tame  them  .  some  manage  to  control  the  beasts  while  others  fail  their  mission  and  seek  to  help  out  the  defenseless  nobles  instead  ,  steering  the  surviving  crowd  to  the  only  tower  left  standing  .  realization  dawns  upon  everyone  :  the  royal  palace  will  never  be  the  same  ,  now  completely  ravaged  in  the  sea  of  flames  .

as  the  dragons  roar  ,  the  loudest  shaking  king's  landing  to  the  core  ,  several  nobles  get  lost  in  the  anarchy  .  lady  cerenna  of  house  lannister  runs  away  toward  a  possible  safe  haven  but  the  royal  grounds  are  a  labyrinth  of  debris  and  dead  bodies  with  no  way  out  .  the  remaining  lannister  siblings  are  unable  to  catch  sight  of  her  as  they  move  through  the  burning  remains  seeking  out  their  sister  .  lord  gael  of  castamere  runs  into  the  wildfire  ,  almost  as  if  he  is  untouchable  from  the  emerald  flames  ,  with  a  sword  in  his  hand  ——  ready  to  slaughter  the  cruel  monsters  who  brought  the  targaryen's  ancestral  home  to  the  ruins  .  and  then  there  is  lord  nyles  rowan  ,  who  wandered  away  from  the  burning  trees  and  blossoming  flowers  ,  into  the  darkness  full  of  terrors  .  and  finally  ,  nobles  witness  how  the  ruling  lord  of  the  reach  runs  back  toward  the  stray  dragons  to  find  both  his  wife  and  former  lover  who  went  missing  during  the  first  splashes  of  fireworks  in  the  sky  .  

while  many  try  to  escape  the  grounds  ,  princess  vasila  tries  to  tame  the  dragons  of  their  family  with  the  help  of  their  lord  father  .  however  ,  where  king  lucerys  controls  his  dragon  who  influences  rhaellara  and  valyris  in  submission,  vasila  of  house  targaryen  only  manages  to  make  meleys  and  daenys  listen  .  sharp  teeth  of  she  -  dragon  elaena  press  into  bare  skin  ,  leaving  behind  small  but  deep  heavily  bleeding  holes  as  they  try  to  restrain  icarys  and  elaena  .  lord  aster  tyrell  ,  always  willing  to  help  little  children  out  ,  leaves  with  a  damaged  right  hand  ——  blistered  and  covered  by  burn  marks  with  the  faint  smell  of  smoked  skin  hanging  in  the  air  ,  as  he  saves  aerys  targaryen  from  the  flames  and  brings  the  toddler  to  his  mother  .  some  are  less  lucky  and  get  trapped  under  the  falling  blocks  of  pale  red  stone  ,  such  as  the  lady  of  greywater  watch  ,  but  valeria  is  quickly  saved  by  guards  who  move  the  nobles  to  the  sole  tower  standing  ,  only  left  with  dark  bruises  all  over  her  body  .  lyseni  women  have  never  strayed  away  from  doing  their  own  thing  ,  so  no  one  was  truly  surprised  when  serenei  rogare  runs  after  one  of  the  pirates  who  tried  to  stab  scared  nobles  trying  to  survive  .  luck  was  not  on  his  side  as  she  slit  his  throat  with  a  in  -  poison  dipped  dagger  but  the  attacker  manages  to  harm  her  before  he  succumbs  to  his  wounds  .  large  hash  with  blood  quickly  pooling  on  serenei's  side  .

her  grace  queen  visenya  searches  for  her  oldest  in  the  secret  pathways  of  the  red  keep  ,  humming  softly  as  she  thinks  about  a  future  with  more  grandchildren  to  cherish  .  and  so  she  never  saw  it  coming  ,  stuck  in  a  daydream  as  the  stones  tumbled  down  upon  her  ——  the  walls  of  her  home  ,  the  place  she  raised  beloved  children  ,  crumbled  down  all  around  her  .  so  she  goes  out  gracefully  :  hands  clutched  together  with  closed  eyes  ,  almost  like  death  was  peaceful  to  comfort  her  blood  beyond  the  grave  because  life  continues  .  brothers  and  sisters  will  always  be  a  strong  bond  even  if  one  of  them  dies  .  grudges  and  promises  are  born  and  lord  artur  velaryon  is  committed  to  his  cause  :  find  out  how  the  late  princess  laena  truly  died  .  as  the  other  nobles  start  the  bedding  ceremony  ,  he  sneaks  into  the  quarters  of  the  mistress  of  whisperers  ——  hunting  through  all  the  papers  and  handwritten  notes  for  that  one  defining  piece  of  evidence  .  however  ,  the  quest  has  no  fortunate  ending  instead  the  velaryon  lord  is  caught  by  surprise  .  a  flaming  arrow  signals  the  beginning  of  his  end  ,  countless  others  follow  until  one  hits  target  .  green  flames  surround  the  noble  with  no  way  out  but  unlike  a  phoenix  he  will  not  rise  from  the  ashes  .  together  with  lady  seda's  sources  ,  artur  perishes  until  they  are  nothing  more  than  cinders  blown  away  by  the  sea  breeze  .  lady  alanis  harlaw  ,  never  one  to  sit  down  when  fight  are  happening  ,  chases  after  the  ghosts  she  spies  running  havoc  in  the  burning  building  .  eyes  widening  in  surprise  as  recognition  dawns  upon  her  :  she  knows  the  other  ——  familiar  even  ,  or  maybe  all  pirates  look  similar  .  she  stands  there  frozen  in  time  as  the  enemy  takes  the  moment  to  get  their  revenge  ,  make  the  iron  islander  pay  for  their  sins  .  with  a  swift  jab  ,  sharpened  sword  tip  cuts  through  alanis  like  butter  only  enough  to  maim  ,  otherwise  there  is  no  fun  .  fight  or  flight  instinct  is  activated  but  the  harlaw  refuses  to  die  alone  ,  so  bloodied  and  beaten  she  jumps  on  their  adversary  ——  fists  pummeling  into  their  face  until  it's  bloodied  and  bruised  .  finally  gaining  the  upper  hand  until  their  sword  pierces  through  her  heart  :  alanis  harlaw  slain  with  their  jewelry  stolen  .  the  iron  price  repaid  .

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

here  is  the  final  part  of  the  royal  wedding  and  the  end  of  arc  i  at  thrones  .  because  we  will  immediately  move  on  to  arc  ii  (  for  those  who  want  )  ,  this  plot  drop  ends  in  a  fade  to  black  where  members  can  plot  out  headcanons  and  communicate  with  their  families  /  important  connections  on  what  happened  after  and  during  the  events  .  every  noble  at  the  celebrations  will  either  have  up  ended  staying  at  the  remaining  tower  for  the  night  or  quickly  found  a  place  in  some  inns  in  the  city  center  .  due  to  the  events  ,  nobles  immediately  leave  for  their  home  with  the  king's  permission  and  will  only  find  out  who  died  once  they  are  back  in  their  ancestral  castles  .  as  for  the  remaining  targaryens  who  are  without  a  house  now  :  time  to  pick  sides  ...  are  you  team  summerhall  or  team  dragonstone  ?  (  and  yes  you  can  only  pick  one  because  no  moving  back  and  forward  )

basically  ,  everyone  has  from  the  7th  until  the  13/14th  to  finalize  all  their  arc  i  interactions  but  they  cannot  involve  the  burning  of  the  red  keep  and  said  events  .  we  heavily  promote  starting  new  threads  ,  in  the  arc  ii  universe  ,  when  all  seven  (  +1  )  pieces  of  information  are  posted  on  the  main  .  finally  ,  we  will  accept  applications  on  monday  !

#thrones.wedding #thrones.drop #tw fire #tw death #tw burning #tw murder

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Dione (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Didi by Aphrodite

Hot Mama by Ganymede

Madame Trouble by Artemis

Age- 36 (immortal)

Location- Cyprus, Olympius

Personality- Dione is larger-than-life. She loves grabbing attention-leading with her body & sexuality. Much like her daughter, at times she can be vain, shallow, vindictive, and immature. She’s currently single.

Her powers/abilities include florakinesis, minor amokinesis, moisture absorption, and limited precognition (the ability to see into the future). She also has the standard abilities of a goddess except shapeshiting.

She lives in this beautiful beach house in the state of Cyprus-the signature colors being red, hot pink, silver, and magenta. She also has a penthouse apartment in the Chant du Cygne neighborhood of New Olympus. There's nude photographs of her all over her place, which Euphrosyne (grace of joy) shot. Dione has several pets (all of them dogs) including chihuahuas, malteses, bichon frises, toy poodles, & shih tzus. Dione's thinking about building a mansion of her own in Dodona.

She's the mother of Aphrodite (goddess of love & beauty). The two of them are very close- more best friends than a traditional mother/daughter relationship. Their relationship is also very intense- they've had great times as well as explosive arguments. She doesn't allow her daughter to address her with any form of the word "mom"- feeling like it "ages" her. They both agreed on "Didi." The two have matching white gold plate name necklaces.

She has been a frequent cover model for Zeus' gentleman magazine.

Dione is polyamourous. She's had many, many lovers, but her favorite has always been the god Pan. A former "friend with benefits” was Zelus (god of envy, jealousy, & zeal). She also almost hooked up with Atlas (Titan god of strength & endurance). Dione was the first woman Zeus had ever slept with. It's rumored that her first lover was Ouranos before being usurped by Kronos. She currently has a secret crush on Záchari (god of confectionery). Dione has only confided in Kéfi about this.

Staples in her closet include skin-tight sheer bodysuits, backless dresses, high waisted jeans, and super tall high heels. The higher, the better!

Dione is friends with Aisa (goddess of lot & fate), Clymene (Titaness of fame & renown), Eudaimonia (goddess of happiness), Hesperis (goddess of the evening & sunset), Maia (the eldest of The Pleiades), Rhapso (goddess of sewing), Elpis (goddess of hope), Leto (Titan goddess of demurity & motherhood), Neicus (god of debate & appeal), Aethra (an oceanic nymph); ex-wife of Atlas mother to The Hyades, Bronte (goddess of thunder), Enyo (goddess of war, destruction, bloodlust, & devastation), Hybris (goddess of insolence, hubris, & reckless pride), Pagoniá (goddess of ice), and Astrape (goddess of lightning) respectively. Dione has also been a bit friendly with the Titan goddess Rhea. Her BBF squad are the mothers of The Graces- Aígli (goddess of glamour); mother to Aglaia, Panigýri (goddess of festivals); mother to Thalia, and Kéfi (goddess of mirth); mother to Euphrosyne. Dione finds Charis (goddess of charm) annoying.

She's currently not on speaking terms with her younger sister, Philotes (goddess of sex, friendship, & affection). It's gotten as far as Dione not even having a relationship with her nephew Himeros (god of impetuous love). Dione also doesn't think much of her sister's husband Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity).

Dione is fluent in French and Cypriot.

Her favorite treat is chocolate covered strawberries!

She's been recently awarded with a star on the Pantheon Walk of Fame. She also has a temple built in her honor in Dodona.

Her favorite frozen treat is the Cocktails on Ice’s red raspberry chardonnay ice cream.

Dione loves the Glory's Crown hydrating hibiscus line of products, including the styling mousse & dry shampoo.

Her go-to drink is the love potion #9 martini (a drink made with strawberry vodka, peach schnapps, & grapefruit juice). She also loves cosmopolitans, mojitos, white wine, champagne, mimosas, and rosé wine! Her usuals from The Roasted Bean is a large iced strawberry latte and an olympian sized iced tea.

She jokingly calls herself a "champion twerker."

Dione has a successful lingerie brand (Delicious Xtasy) as well as a shoe brand (atelier fantaisie)- that's famous (or infamously) known for their skyscraper length heels! She's also planning to release her debut fragrance! For other work, she sometimes models for her daughter's La Petit Amour fashion brand as well as her Swimsilk swimwear line. She also models for Megaleio, No.3 & Co, Hot Intoxication, & Maison du Drame. She's also a frequent writer of Zeus' magazine as well as her daughter's magazine Kytheiria. As for her personal endeavors, Dione's been thinking about releasing her own signature fragrance!

She has been quoted saying (and bragging) to have the biggest softest butt in the entire pantheon! 

She absolutely hates tattoos and eccentric piercings.

Dione was gifted the candy apple red croc leather Megaleio handbag from her daughter for her birthday. It cost nearly 600,000 drachmas!

In her free time she enjoys clubbing, shopping, going to the spa, sunbathing (in the nude), surfing, and of course her favorite physical activity- sex. She also moonlights as a stripper for fun (being a frequent performer at her daughter's strip club as well as Dionysus'). Dione also sometimes teaches pole-dancing classes on the weekends- open to all adults.

Cooking (and anything else domestic) isn't exactly her forte, but she did come up with her comfort food dish- pink macaroni. She's taught her daughter & Peitho (goddess of persuasion & sensuality) how to make it. Her go-to fast food order ffrom Olympic Chef is buffalo wings (drizzled in blue cheese dressing and tzatziki sauce), large cajun fries, & a large chocolate shake.

"Looking good can be the best armor!"

#my oc #my oc character #my character #oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek goddess #greek goddesses #greek mythology #greek pantheon

[persephones-wren]

Hello! may i request a c!revivebur who’s walking around the server and sees his (now ex) partner for the first time since he died and he apologizes to them for how he treated them in pogtopia and they just like walk around and catch up please? love your writing!! don’t worry if this gets rejected or you don’t feel inspired i know how it feels!

Hope (c!Revivedbur x Reader)

apologies if it's a bit out of character, it's been a while since I've written anything for the DSMP :) but thank you for my first request from there! I hope you liked how it turned out!

Warnings: none? all lore is pretty outdated I think

Genre: fluff-ish

Word Count: 1220

Dawn breaks.

He stands there, watching the sunrise. His trench-coat feels heavy. The gloves on his hands feel scratchy, and he knows he keeps tightening them; a nervous habit. He’s going to betray them all. Whether they win or lose the final war, L’Manberg is going to go up in flames.

He’s not going to be there to see it all.

“You alright, Will?”

You stand beside him, on the cliff, and he knows that Tommy and Tubbo are probably somewhere behind him, watching over you both. He didn’t have his sanity anymore, but he was still in control enough to think of them and Niki, fighting for a false cause, watching over him, worried.

“Of course, love. Why wouldn’t I be?”

His voice is an odd, jubilant tone. It’s one he’s had for a while, the one he had when Tommy and Techno spared and he pushed them both, the one he had when referring to Dream.

You don’t know whether it’s happiness or madness.

“Wilbur Soot.”

“Y/N, I’m alright,” he sighs. He puts his arm around you. “We’re going to win L’Manberg back,” Lie. “and we’ll be able to have everything we once did.” Lie. “I’ll run the country again as it’s rightful leader,” Lie. “and it’ll be the place to build our future.” Lie.

“I don’t care about L’Manberg as much as I care about you,” you state. “Wilbur Soot, I love you. No matter what happens today,” you whisper, “That won’t change.”

How foolish you had been.

Philza had murdered him, a diamond sword straight through his chest, and the only thing that reassured you that it was what he wanted was the smile on his face. Your word never faltered, though. No matter what happens, you’d still love him.

You’re considering changing that sentiment as you go to visit the same cliff, and see someone already there. Occasionally, it’d be Niki there, or Tommy and Tubbo, sometimes even Ranboo. You’d talk to them, reminisce, or tell them bits of history. It always hurts your heart, but that’s what kept the dead alive, their stories.

It’s not any of them this time, though.

You scan the figure ahead of you. Tall, wearing a jacket, gauze and blood wrapped around his right arm. The height tells you it’s Ghostbur, but the dressing and the vibrant color in his hair tells you it’s his living counterpart.

It’s Wilbur. It’s Wilbur Soot, not Ghostbur.

You pinch at your wrist, but the slight sting tells you that it’s no dream.

Wilbur Soot stands a couple meters in front of you, alive. You want to run, away or toward him, you can’t be sure, but you’re rooted in place. He’s alive. The realization fills your heart with love, with fear- which era of Wilbur has he returned as? Is he the musician who made you swoon? Is he the revolutionary, the gentle and kind leader? Is he the man who spiraled into insanity, who blew up L’Manburg?

“Beautiful sunset, isn’t it?”

He knows there’s someone there. Who, he isn’t sure, but whoever it was, whether it was someone new or someone he had to make amends to- starting a conversation was the best way to find a window to apologize. Personal gains aside, there were a lot of people who deserved apologies from him.

Especially his love.

“It’s nice,” you say, cautious. “I haven’t really taken the time to look at another one since Doomsday.”

He turns toward you, shock in his expression and a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Your hand rests on the hilt of your sword, and he frowns at that.

Did you think- didn’t you still have two lives? He’s not the man he was when he was last alive.

“Love-”

“Please don’t call me that,” you whisper.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not the person who blew up L’Manberg.” He takes note of the way your expression softens slightly, but your hand doesn’t move. “Darling, I’m unarmed. Why are you- how many lives are you on?”

“One.”

“One? I thought- What happened?”

“The L’Manberg explosion took my second one.”

He notices the way you say L’Manberg and not Doomsday. It was his doing.

He decides that he’s never going to forgive himself for it. Even if you do, he’s going to spend the rest of his life making it up to you.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and strides towards you, throwing his arms around you. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s a small silence, before you speak. “I’m getting over it,” you mutter into his shoulder. “All I have to do is avoid conflict. It can’t be the hardest thing in the world.”

“It’s difficult here.” His concern makes you feel warm. Maybe death has changed him. You hope death has changed him.

“I know,” you respond quietly. Avoiding problems never was the strong suit of anyone on the SMP.

“I’ll find a way to beat death for you.”

You laugh a little, and reach your hand up to ruffle his hair. “Of course you’d find a way. You’re always pushing for change.”

“Especially if it helps the people I love.”

You don’t get a moment to reflect on his words before he’s reaching for your hand, interlocking it with his. You both walk, side by side, throughout the SMP.

“A lot has changed,” he remarks.

“Yeah. A lot has.”

Care to tell me what’s been happening around here?”

“Do you have any memories from Ghostbur?”

“Oh, him,” Wilbur frowns at that. His ghost had been way too positive, quite odd, to be honest. Perhaps he felt the tiniest bit guilty that Ghostbur was stuck in the personal hell that was Jubilee Line, but if it meant he got to live, he would make the same decision again, to board the train Dream had sent out for him.

You’re still staring at him, and he gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, zoned out there. I don’t exactly have many memories, but they’re coming back to me, little by little.”

“We rebuilt L’Manberg, before Tommy was exiled. You left with him, as Ghostbur. I don’t exactly know what happened there, but-” you sigh. “It must have been hell. Tommy never really recovered, I don’t think. Tubbo forbade any of us to visit, he said it was too dangerous to confront Dream head on.”

“I remember that,” Wilbur says quietly. “If I were to see Dream again, I’d strike him down where he stood.”

“He’s in prison now, thankfully. I’d say he’s getting what he deserves.”

He decides not to mention how Dream was the one who brought him to life.

You both finally stop at the ruins of L’Manberg, staring down into the glass-covered crater. It’s a swirl of memories, a tangle of old times, a harsh reminder of the past.

“We should look towards the future,” Wilbur speaks. His eyes are focused on the bright of the moon, and the glimmer of the stars above both of you. “A future together,” he adds. He kisses the top of your head and puts his hand around your waist, cautious, but you make no move to stop him. Even if he’s not the same, he’s close to the man you once knew.

You find the constellation he’s looking at, and smile slightly.

Canis Major.

A future together.

Hope.

#dsmp x reader #wilbur soot dsmp #dsmp wilbur #dream smp #dsmp #revivedbur #revivedbur x reader #c!wilbur #c!wilbur x reader #c!revivebur #thank you for the request!

[technowoah]

THESEUS - a dsmp story ( DreamSMP x Queen!Reader)

CHAPTER FIVE : AND I REALIZE THREE FUNDAMENTAL TRUTHS AT THE EXACT SAME TIME.

Chapter Summary: You had gotten what you wanted, but at what cost? Nightmares ensue, and Dream’s true colors begin to show.

pairing: c!wilbur x queen!reader

an// IM BACK!! hopefully yall like this chaper cause this is the last one that I wrote in the past, Im writing chapter 6 rn so it might take a while. Also sorry for not posting requests I really wanted to get this chapter out there

⚠︎ swearing, dsmp spoliers(?), angst, arguing, smoking, explosions, gaslighting(?), not proofread.

Series Masterlist 

"Good job you two! This is all yours now.”

Dream had led you and Eret back to the castle, all of them still battered and bruised from the war they recently had. You had already taken off your armor and now you were wearing underneath your L'Manburg outfit that was torn and burnt showing some of your skin which was also burnt or cut. You had noticed on the way to the castle that Dream had kept on looking at the outfit that Eret and you had on with disgust, like a taunt.

You could finally relax in the huge castle that you apparently deserved because you and Eret had taken the first lives of the citizens of L'Manburg. In your heart you knew that L'Manburg was still a country. They all have two more lives and they will build the country up again with those two lives. You sighed then kept walking into the throne room. you looked at the two big thrones that sat next to each other. One for a king and one for a queen.

"Why are you standing there? Sit down! Relax!" Dream patted one of the thrones.

You and Eret had sat down on the thrones next to each other looking around the huge throne room and Dream smiling right in front of them. Once you both sat down you tried to sit up straight, but you wanted to slump down into the comfy, plush, velvet and gold chair. The two of them sat on velvet and gold thrones while in burnt and torn L'Manburg uniforms. It was a sight to see, and if someone didn't know the context of what just happened, this scene would've made sense to them.

"I'm happy you did this. You deserve all of this." Dream said while walking along the marble floor.

"It's beautiful, but I'm exhausted." You let your head fall to the side. You sighed wanting Dream to leave so you could finally get some rest.

"I bet."

"Eret are you okay?" You spoke up after Dream.

Eret had a look that you couldn't make out. He just stared off into space in his own mind. He shook his head after you called for him again.

"Yeah, yeah I am fine. I'm just thinking." Eret quickly responded.

"What are you thinking about?" Dream said in a monotone voice.

"If we did the right thing." Eret sighed.

You slowly nodded because you were thinking the exact same thing. They were traitors, you had built somewhat of a connection with those people you helped kill. And now what? you're living in a huge castle and apparently you "Shouldn't be feeling this way", Dream claimed.

"You two are overreacting. They are fine." Dream said bluntly while staring at them with a straight face.

That was a huge lie, their lives were taken today. They're not just “fine”.

"You two were never a part of that place anyways. This is your home! Why would you need to wear those hideous colors? They look bad on you, it's unflattering. There is no need to go back." Dream explained.

You hang your head not knowing what to say to the man, there wasn’t really anything to say but you spoke up hoping the words will come to you.

"I don't-"

"You don't have to say anything, it's okay. You're safe now. Did you get hurt?" Dream asked.

The bruises and scars said differently.

"Remember when I said that?" Dream pushed the question.

You rubbed a burn mark on your wrist and laughed a bit. "No! Actually I don't. We're safe now, but that doesn't mean we aren't hurt." You chuckled in disbelief.

"Well maybe if you listened to me you wouldn't be so anxious. If you listened you wouldn't have been so hesitant. You're safe." Dream said sternly.

"Maybe you're tired, Dream. We're all tired. Shall we go to bed?" Eret stood up and held out his hand to help you up from your seat.

You accepted his hand and started to follow Eret through the huge castle making your way through the huge, high ceiling halls. The three walked towards the king's and queen's room in the castle, Dream kept a slower pace and walked behind the two wanting to get one more word in before leaving the castle.

"If you two are ever in doubt just remember that you are on the right side of history." Dream said then turned around to leave the two alone.

You both stopped and turned around to see Dream’s back facing the both of you as he walked away. You and Eret eventually made it to your new bedrooms. There was a big door which held a huge room made for the both of them to sleep in and two separate rooms next to the bigger door which were made for one person. Eret and you stood in front of the bigger door staring at the intricate designs on the door not speaking to each other.

"So?" Eret laughed.

"So!" You exclaimed while chuckling.

"Are you okay sleeping in that huge room tonight?" Eret asked.

"I'm not totally comfortable with that, but it would be weird if we slept in the same bed. Don't get me wrong! You're a great friend, but-"

"Y/N/N stop! I'm okay with that too. I wasn't looking to sleep in the same bed. Yes we're married, but we're just staying friends, hey we might get a divorce later." Eret explained.

"If I do, we won't be king and queen anymore." You said softly to your husband.

"Is that what you want? To be "queen"?" Eret asked while putting air quotes around the word queen.

You paused for a moment then answered his question.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to be, Eret." You looked up at him sadly and he pulled you in for a hug. It took you everything you had to not cry into the L'Manburg uniform Eret was wearing. Today drained you mentally and physically, your hands were raw from shooting arrows, you had burn marks on your skin and your feet hurt from running through the kingdom. You weren’t sure about where you would go, because this didn't feel like your home.

"Let's go to bed and we'll talk in the morning. Rest on it because I'll happily divorce you so you can find your place in this huge kingdom." Eret laughed and let you out of his arms.

You chuckled and then let him go walking into what was supposed to be the queen's room and right next to it was the king's room which they both walked in after saying goodnight and closing their doors finally having time to themselves after a long day.

You finally took off the L'Manburg uniform and laid it on a velvet chair in the corner of the huge room. You stared at the uniform before going to the nearest closet and picking out something to wear for that night. The queen's room was basically the huge couple's room that you found before, but just with a smaller bed. There were still trinkets, jewelry and even clothes in the closet. you took a nightgown out of the closet and sat on the plush bed. You ended up laying down staring at the high ceiling thinking of the predicament Eret's question brought.

You finally retired for the night and crawled into bed and got under the soft covers. The window was open so a soft cool breeze was blowing through the room letting the curtains flow with the breeze. If you left you wouldn't have anywhere to go except back to L'Manburg, they would never let you back even if you tried. They probably hated your guts by now, so maybe divorcing wasn't a good idea. You had a set home here, you had food, clothes, and you weren't under attack every minute. you didn't have to watch your back for any enemies.

Your mind slowed down as you finally lulled yourself into a deep sleep forgetting the troubles in your mind for only a moment.

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

The sunset fell over the horizon making it a gold, red color. It was beautiful. The trees were illuminated and the lakes had a certain glow to them. you could see mobs began to crawl out of the ground and caves, but you was safe up here.

You looked down and saw the familiar obsidian walls. It seemed like a faint memory, but in reality the walls were real. It was like you could feel the stone underneath your feet at this moment. you could see inside L'Manburg.

you saw Tubbo and Tommy laying in the grass talking to one another. you saw Fundy sleeping in the grass next to them. There were two new faces you had never seen before. It was a woman with short pink hair and another man with a shaved head. It might've been your mind putting people in your dreams to fill space. Then you saw Eret sitting by a small river letting his bare feet flow in the water. It was a peaceful scene.

"Beautiful sunset isn't it?" A voice showed up beside you.

It was Wilbur. He had his uniform on, it was clean like the war didn't even happen.

"It is really beautiful." You agreed watching the sun continue to lower over the trees.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall." Wilbur said, keeping his gaze soft at the sunset.

You hummed but stayed quiet admiring his words and the sunset.

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story. After you took one of my lives away I understand now. You can't control other people and their motivations."

You hang your head in disappointment, but then Wilbur continued.

"But I know that we can win. I know that greatness lies in you, but remember from here on in that history has its eyes on you. History will forever have its eyes on you no matter what you do." Wilbur looked into your eyes as the sun set on the two of them the stars began to shine.

The light brown eyes Wilbur had turned darker because of the sunlight being gone. You looked out back at the mobs in the forest and the huge towers in the sky made the kingdoms members. you turned around and looked into L'Manburg. Or what was considered L'Manburg.

There was no one there anymore, instead of people there were huge amounts of TNT that filled the walls behind them. you could hear faint voices around them, people that you didn't know. It sounded like chaos. you whipped your head around to Wilbur who was dressed in a brown tattered trench coat, brown pants, and a white shirt instead of the L'Manburg uniform.

He had a cigarette in his mouth and matches in his hands. He smirked at you as the voices around you got louder and your head sounded like you were in the middle of a tornado. your head was buzzing as your eyes couldn't focus on Wilbur in front of you. It felt like these moments were happening right in front of your all at one time.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?"

"You know if I die, this country goes down with me."

"if respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?"

"Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Look-"

"You know Y/N" Wilbur started next to you. He lit a match and turned around to L'Manburg which was now filled with TNT.

"Somethings. Somethings were never meant to be." He threw the match into the huge pile of TNT and all in a second the obsidian underneath your feet disappeared as you fell into the explosion beneath you.

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

"Fuck! Where am I?!" You shot up from your sleeping position in a cold sweat.

You frantically felt around the bed trying to convince yourself that you were physically at the castle in your bed. You finally caught your breath and laid back down in your bed finding yourself staring at the ceiling again. Even with the window open blowing cool air into the room, your skin still felt hot. You ended up tossing the covers off of you and making your way towards the entrance of the kingdom to get some air.

That dream was so much stuff in it you couldn't comprehend all of it. It was like Wilbur was there as if he was talking to you directly and it wasn't a dream and it made you second guess yourself and think that it may have not been a dream. You finally made it outside and sat on one of the steps that led people up into the kingdom. you sighed and breathed in the fresh air and it immediately relaxed your body and mind. You were alive, you were here and sadly Wilbur wasn't there. You closed your eyes and felt the breeze around you until you were startled by a figure beside you.

"You're up late. I thought you said you were mentally tired." Dream chuckled sitting beside you.

"I had a bad dream." You sighed.

"Hey don't take my name in vain like that" Dream laughed trying to bring up your mood.

Dream sighed and stood back up when he didn't get a response from his companion.

"Come one, let's go. Let's get your mind off of the one bad dream." Dream held his hand out, gesturing to you to take it.

You took his hand and then released it letting him lead the way to wherever the wind may take them. The dream is currently still stuck in your head. The voices from different people confused you and made your head spin.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?" What did that mean? Was someone threatening Tommy? Will someone threaten Tommy? You grew to care for that kid.

Who said "If I die, this country goes down with me"? What country. L'Manburg?

"If respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?" That one stumped you the most. you didn't even know if this was being spoken to you or to someone else. All of them except for the Tommy one.

Were they all even dreams? The one that haunted your mind the most was the one where someone was telling a man named Phil to kill them. Were you there for that moment? Did Phil kill the person? Who was Phil? All these thoughts and questions plagued your mind so much that your feet mindlessly carried you wherever Dream led you to.

"Here we are." Dream led You on top of a hill, a tall enough hill to see the main attraction. The place you missed the most, L'Manburg.

Tears started to form in your eyes and you tried blinking them away. All the moments of that dream appeared in your brain, but even stronger. you never felt these emotions before. Maybe L'Manburg was your home all along. you missed seeing Tubbo, Tommy, Eret and Fundy doing their own thing while your and Wilbur had a deep talk inside the van. you had spent weeks with them growing too attached to them and then ended up becoming a traitor.

"That place. You never belonged there. You're too good for them." Dream started and you stayed quiet watching the stars begin to disappear.

"Do you trust me?" Dream asked.

You stayed quiet not having the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear you say that you trusted him when in reality you couldn’t, you weren't fully there yet, not anymore. 

"They lied to you. It's not your home." Dream continued on letting you listen and not talk.

"How did you know if someone said it was my home or not?" You asked, startled.

"I might've been keeping an eye on you. I wanted to make sure my flower was okay." Dream kept his gaze on L'Manburg.

"Stop calling me that." You sighed.

"I never started. This was the first time I said that. Who called you flower?" Dream suddenly got serious, staring at you.

you kept your sights on the obsidian walls, not sparing him a glance. The stars began to fade and the sun peeked over the horizon. As they stayed longer the sun rose over the walls of L'Manburg. You started to remember the words in the dream you had.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall."

L'Manburg stands for independence. Independence. That word kept ringing through your head like a mantra until a few voices below the hill and near the walls alerted you.

"HEY! Hey Wilbur! Give me back my shit!" Tommy yelled as he stomped after the older man.

"Wilbur get Tommy to stop shouting and give him his swords back please!" Fundy yelled trailing behind the two.

"No not until he learns not to go start stabbing shit!" Wilbur yelled back at the other two.

You missed that. you missed the bickering and the nonsense they all shared. you were upset that Tommy still hadn't learned his lesson and you wished you were there beside them at that moment.

Dream spoke up giving you a look you couldn’t quite get. "You are never allowed to step inside those walls again.

"What gives you the right to tell me what and what not to do? Who does that make you? Who do you think-"

"YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO GO IN THOSE WALLS!" Dream yelled getting dangerously close to you.

You continued to stare at those blue eyes as the bright sun rose over the dark walls of L’Manburg. you didn't say anything but descended down the mountain alone with the sounds of Tommy, Fundy, and Wilbur bickering in the background, wishing you were there and not next to the man next to you who was staring at you angrily.

"I know what’s good for you! I know what's good for this country! Just trust me Y/N!" Dream yelled starting an argument

"Would you calm down! You came here to be all quiet and now you're yelling at me. You might want to be quiet before Wilbur hears you. Or do you want me to get him myself?" You yelled back, getting furious.

"Oh you wish! He doesn't care for you as much as me, Sapnap and George do! They agree as well!"

"Don't put words into his mouth!" You accused

"Oh! So if he cares so fucking much he would've help save you. And do you know what would happen if he saved you?! You would've died! I saved you! You were in a perfect situation and all you had to do is not complain! You're always overreacting." Dream ended with a huff and rolled his eyes while turning away..

you were speechless at this point. Overwhelming emotions consumed you. you couldn't believe you were overreacting. Maybe Wilbur wasn't everything you needed. you were overreacting, you were being selfish too. Dream was right. Dream walked over to you pulling you in a hug with L'Manburg was still in your sights.

"I did everything because I love you. You're too precious for them, you're not for them. They don't deserve you, you deserve someone who wants the best for you. A flower that needs a home and I'm here to give it to you." Dream softly explained.

Your eyes kept tearing up at the words and different emotions flowing through you. The sights on L'Manburg make your memories and questions come back. Where did you belong? But more importantly who was telling the truth?

Taglist: @hi-imuwu @k-l-a-w-s

#mcyt blurb #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream x reader #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!dream x reader #mcyt writers #mcyt writing #dsmp fanfic #dream smp x you #dsmp spoilers #mcyt platonic #platonic mcyt x reader #lmanburg #wilbur soot headcanons #george not found x reader #sapnap x reader #eret x reader #lmanburg x reader #idk what to put here now so... #technowoah! #mjtings! #dream smp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp headcanon

[follow-the-lights-home]

crash course for newbies

Hi I’m Kit {he/they} of @retrograde-raven , this is my danger days sideblog.

Might resurrect this might not who knows.

The Fab Four:

- Party Poison: afab they/them; if you’ve never seen them before they come off as intimidating and they try to keep it that way; but they’re pretty nice unless you’ve managed to piss them off; “sugar;” no verbal filter; holographic jacket

- Kobra Kid: ftm he/him; my beloved, I would die for him; exists exclusively in long pants and larger t-shirts, has tattoos that have barely seen the light of day; absolutely terribly shot with a gun, but bizarrely good at knife throwing; lost an eye as a kid in the city, BLI gave him a new, off color one, he left the day it finished healing; doesn’t like when people touch him, but will trace people’s veins and tattoos.

- Fun Ghoul: genderfluid he/him/they/them/she/her/xe/xyr/ve/vers; hears a new set of pronouns and just adopts them; crew mechanic; very cuddly, will just drop into someone’s lap; very good with kids but cannot be left alone with them because something will explode; uses pronoun bracelets; second worst shot after Kobra, relies almost entirely on explosives; eyes glow in the dark, and have cat's pupils; keeps a pet lizard

- Jet Star: he/him/they/them; resident angry pacifist, gun is set to stun unless absolutely necessary, ironically is also the best shot; tells very bad jokes 24/7; only one who actually knows how to drive; teal and purple hair, kept in liberty spikes; found a machete once and never goes anywhere without it; very verbally affectionate, also the best hugger

America's Suitehearts

- Dr. Benzedrine: she/her; slightly deranged; always stands slightly crooked, broke a leg as a kid and it never quite healed right, walks with a cane; collects round shiny things and uses them to map the sky; medical treatments range from “why would you ever think of something like that” to “i feel so much better surprisingly”

- Mr. Sandman: he/him; name did actually come from the chordettes song but he will insist on his deathbed its from the metallica one; has a sort of toxic positivity that the others have to talk him out of regularly; will climb over anyone and everything, tries to respect boundaries but isn’t perfect; hopeless romantic; practically allergic to calling Kobra by his name, has found a couple dozen pet names for him

- Horseshoe Crab: ze/zir; kind of a silent observer, knows a lot but doesn't say much unless you ask specifically enough; always doing something with zir hands, usually fixing some clothes Benze or Sandy ripped; collects sewing needles and pictures from before the Analog Wars

- Nicotine Sunset: she/her; has a sizable stash of pretty much every drug/chemical imaginable, stolen, bought, or made, medicinal or otherwise, available to anyone for a favor or something she deems to be of equal value; resident sort-of chemist, hangs out with ghoul a lot to make more interesting explosives

#the fab four #america's suitehearts #party poison #kobra kid #my son #fun ghoul #jet star #dr benzedrine #mr sandman #Horseshoe crab #nicotine sunset #drug ment #character info

[cloudstarcats]

Icarus (And in the End)

There is a cliff Roman visits when he needs stillness. It is a cliff where he goes to try and grow. Where he tried to achieve more. where he changes where he decides, "Does Thomas still need me?"

Fandom: Sanders sides Ao3 link

Warnings: Roman angst, negative self talk, things get sad

(Inspired heavily by the song "Icarus" by Bastille. I recommend you listen to it before reading)

In the Imagination, there is a cliff. The cliff stands above an ocean, and from it, you can see the entire imagination.

Roman’s castle, his small towns, the hut and cave of the Dragon-Witch, the cove of shells made when Thomas watched Ariel- where an underwater kingdom would come up to talk and trade and live with a seaside village, a city of bird people, an elf outcropping.

You could see Remus’s tower, his kingdom of orcs and people whose eyes glowed red, blue, rainbow, whose sky was changing constantly, the cities of plague, the train station and industrial district of Hades town, the salon filled with men and women Roman swore were succubuses, his grotto of poison plants and sunlight, the Naga cave for Janus, the graveyard for halloween, and days on.

You could see the borderlands, the large castle in the center that housed two flags- a green flag that looked torn apart by war and a red flag that always looked pristine, almost metallic. The city that spanned below it, the crest on the gates that faced the Cliff- a shield with a sword facing point to the ground behind it, a castle of three turrets and a large tower in the shield’s design, a crown holding the shield and sword and all of it together.

Roman loved the cliff. Loved the fresh air, loved watching the world from here- because it didn’t feel like he was watching it from the eyes of a god, a creator, as one would assume from the height advantage. He felt… small. Small and real and distanced in the land he and his brother made. He loved watching the merfolk in the coves, the Kraken playing with the smaller mers, the pirate ships that docked and invaded and traded, the bustle so quiet and muted. He loved the sun shining against him, loved the rain when it poured or drizzled, the sunsets, the sunrises, the twilights and magic hours and golden hours and everything in between.

The cliff is the place he went for stillness, for quiet, for when he couldn’t name the feelings in his chest, for when he didn’t know what to do. It was the place he went to grow, the place he went to achieve more, the place he changed at. It was the place he went when he and Remus had split. It was the place he went after Thomas was heartbroken, before Patton came to comfort him.

So after the newest episode, after he had apologised to Janus and left before receiving a reply, after he had walked for what felt like hours and nothing at the same time, he stood at the cliff.

When he and Remus were young, they gave themselves many different things. Additions, traits, dyed hair and colored eyes, in the Imagination anything was possible. Remus had liked the red eyes he already had, and so he let them shine the color of blood, much to Roman’s amusement when they started to actually bleed- which his twin fixed right away.  Roman had green eyes and he kept them, but he made them more vibrant- to match Remus’ new costume.

“What next?” Remus asked, hanging from their wardrobe by his knees, in the bedroom that once held a large bed and now held two bunk beds. He tilted his head and Roman shrugged, huffing out a breath.

“I don’t know! Ughhhh this is so annoying~!” Roman whined, flopping down into a pile of plushies they’d both added to, groaning. Remus watched him and giggled, then his eyes brightened and he squeaked.

He dropped off the wardrobe and jumped on Roman, making him let out a muffled “oof-”. “I know! Wings! And tentacles and hands and everything we could put on our backs!” The older creativity grinned, eyes shining.

Roman pushed Remus off him and rolled over to look at him. “Tentacles?” he asked, and Remus nodded, eyes sparkling as he nodded up and down. “Yeah! Like a Kraken! Can we make a Kraken?”

Roman shrugged. “I guess, I mean the lake is empty..” he mumbled. He glanced at the glass door that led to a balcony. “You could make it an ocean- it would fit better,” he suggested.

Remus nodded and waved his hand.  “Yeah yeah, I can do that later-” he waved, standing up and walking to the large mirror on the wall, twirling around and eyeing his back- wearing a black shirt with puffy sleeves and silver accents and a green sash tied into a bow at the back- a mirror image of Roman’s version in white, gold, and red- only Roman’s sash wasn’t tied in a bow and he didn't have puffy sleeves like Remus.

“Right now- I wanna have tentacles!” he grinned and snapped his fingers. Eight green tentacles appeared on his back, shiny and an emerald green- flecked with gold, matching Roman’s eyes.

Roman gazed at them, eyes wide. “Woah… bro they look perfect!” he grinned, popping up to poke them. “Woah! They’re squishy! But not slimy..?”

“Should they be?” Remus asked, and Roman shrugged. “In that case- I think I’ll make them slimy later, it’s your turn now!” he smiled at Roman and spun around to look at his brother.

Roman blinked and shrugged, looking down. “Oh uh… I don’t think tentacles would look so good on me,” he sighed. Remus tilted his head as Roman thought a bit, and looked outside at the lake- soon to be ocean- and saw a flock of birds.

“Do wings!” he exclaimed, and Roman looked back up, Remus smiling widely at him. “Bird wings! You’ll look like an angel!”

“But I don’t want white wings!” Roman whined, pouting. “They're not… enough. I want them to be eye catching and shiny and cool like your tentacles!” he explained, and Remus hummed, plopping down to sit on the floor.

“What if they were… gold?” Remus asked, tilting his head to the side. Roman paused and thought a moment before nodding.

“You're smart, Re-Re,” he hummed, looking at him with a smile, and he snapped his fingers. A pair of golden wings appeared on his back, feathers soft to the touch, but still sleek and shiny metallic.

“Woah! They're so shiny!” Remus breathed, eyes sparkling as he got up to touch the feathers, running a hand through the feathers with a rather gentle touch. He grinned wider and Roman giggled at the contact.

“Ah! They’re ticklish, Re!” he whined, and his brother’s grin morphed into one of delight.

“They are?” he asked, and Roman backed away, laughing as Remus crept towards his twin, eyes sparkling as his hands and tentacles raised. “So if I-”

“Remus~!” Roman screamed and laughed, running away to avoid his twin as they two ran around the room- Remus trying to catch and tickle his brother while Roman laughed and stumbled around with his wings, attempting escape. The two didn’t stop laughing for hours, and Roman was caught. By sundown, both had fallen asleep in Remus’ top bunk, a pile of limbs and tentacles, two golden wings draped over them both like blankets as they slept.

Roman gazed at the ocean, the view beyond, thinking of that day. He shifted his wings, the same gold of years passed. Pristine, shiny, regal like a statue- a prince.

“You’re my Hero.”

He ignored the tears gathering in his eyes.

“Thank god you don’t have a mustache Roman, otherwise, I wouldn’t know who the evil twin was!”

The princely figure swallowed, he could hear the others calling at him, yelling for him to come down, but he steeled himself and looked past and up to the sky, at the sun. A breeze rustled his feathers, missing his hair. As it left he exhaled slowly, eyes closing for a moment as a tear tracked down his face, dropping to the ground quietly.

He would do this. For Thomas. Always for Thomas.

On the ground, the group watched Roman spread his wings, the gold of his feathers reflecting the sunlight around him, making him look like a shining statue, too incredible to be real.

“Roman! Stop-!” Virgil screamed, eyes widening as he saw what was to happen before the others, and he started to run, as if that could stop the inevitable.

It did not stop a single thing. Roman jumped off, ignoring the screams, the only noise was the wind in his ears, his wings beating as he flew. The sun shone on his face and he reached out, wings gliding across the air, the wind rushing in his hair and through every feather, and for a moment it was good. For a single, perfect moment where Virgil’s lungs couldn’t dare let out a scream, where Patton’s eyes gazed upon Roman’s face, heart stopping, where Logan could see the yearning shining in Roman’s eyes, even from a distance, it was good. In the mindscape Janus could feel a stillness, and he paused, turning his head, a tug in his chest, and Remus paused what he was doing in the living room.

“Remus..?” Janus asked, seeing the other side pause, the crazed look dying in his eyes like a fire burning out.

“...something is wrong,” he said softly, in a tone that scared Janus- because it was soft, scared, wounded, dead. He looked up and his morning star fell to the floor- a soft thump, no explosion, no nothing- and he swallowed. “I.. I can feel it. In my chest,” he whispered, hand rising to grip at his top- and he looked away. “Roman.”

Janus felt his heart stop. “Roman…?” The ego. The thing Janus meant to protect. He could feel it curl in his chest, like vines growing around his lung, not invading them, but a presence- a weight where there was none before.

The two sank out and went to the imagination quickly, leaving an empty living room with a morningstar lying on the carpet, an unnatural stillness filling the air.

~~~

It was a small stutter. An inability to go on. An insecurity.

As he drew closer to the sky- to the shining sun- his wings failed. Stuttering to a stop, frozen in time like something had hit them, he was struck from the sky. His lips parted and he stared up at the sun as he fell towards the ocean under him, feeling his tears leave his eyes. He closed his eyes, smiling weakly at the sky before he plunged into the sea back first- Virgil's strangled scream following.

“No! Roman-!” He screamed, pushed to a sprinting pace as he raced to the cliff’s edge, tugging his jacket off before he dove into the sea below.

“Virgil-!” Patton screamed- following the other and reaching out for him, but Logan pulled him back  and into his chest, feeling Patton breakdown against him, his shaking sobs rough against his chest. Logan only stared, rubbing Patton’s back, the cold tears trailing down his face unfelt- he was numb.

In the water, Virgil swam down, trying to catch up to Roman’s rapidly sinking form. When he first dived in he was scared he’d miss the prince’s form, that Roman would sink to the bottom and Virgil would fail. He realised, as he swam down, this would not be the case.

Roman was too bright, too magical, to ignore as he sank down. The sunlight filtering through the darkening abyss below them caught on his wings, reflecting golden sunlight that swam across his face and made the water glow around him- as if he radiated pure gold and sunlight. His wings cupped him, his hair framing his face and floating across his skin, nearly covering his closed eyes. His lips were parted, and Virgil could see the last bubbles of the air that followed him as he fell down slip away- just as a bubble of air left Roman’s lips.

Virgil’s heart raced and he kicked harder, hand reaching out for Roman’s form like Roman’s had reached for the sun only moments ago, unable to entertain the idea, the mere thought, of Roman dying here. Not now, not ever, he couldn't allow this, he couldn't allow Roman’s grave to be here, his death, his early death- he couldn't.

Virgil reached, desperate, tears disappearing in the water surrounding them. He wouldn’t allow it.

In Roman’s mind, he remembered when Remus left him. He remembered when he didn’t speak to him, when he ignored him and glared. Remembered how he said he hated Roman, how he shoved him away when he got closer, when he tried to talk to him. How he was crying but he left anyway. How he left Roman alone in their childhood room, a room meant for the two of them, his gold wings dull and eyes filling with tears as he gripped a paper in his clenched fist. Remembered looking at the drawing he’d made for Remus, and later going to the side of the mind Remus claimed, scared and alone, and slipping the drawing carefully under the door of a tower that loomed above him like a warning to stay away.

Roman remembered leaving this morning, remembered the odd looks at him in nothing but his usual attire, no sword, when he told them how he was going on an adventure. Remembered Patton’s worry over his lack of equipment- but he didn't need it where he was going. Even when he said that, Patton’s face did not relax, and Logan’s brows knit together as he attempted to understand where Roman meant to go. Remembered leaving the room and sighing softly, pulling out a letter he then slipped under the door. Remembered waiting, why did he wait, till someone took it and he heard the paper be unfolded before he left, turning his back, wings fading into existence.

Logan led Patton to the shoreline, the beach, for stability. Logically- the only way he could think, his emotions overwhelmed and not yet processing; logically he knew when Virgil came up, he had to, he had to, that he would swim to the beach.

In the water, a hand grasped Romans shirt. On land, eyes watched the water, and two minds let themselves hope.

Quiet filled the world for a moment, only the sounds of the shore and the stillness of the air and Patton’s soft cries could be heard. That was before Virgil burst out of the water, a loud crash and a gasp, dragging up with him a familiar head of brown hair and two limp, golden wings, trailing behind and filling the water with sunlight that didn’t belong.

~~~

Virgil swam towards shore, dragging Roman’s limp form with him. The prince’s lips were tinted blue and his skin was pale, a faint bluish purple tone to his fingers. Virgil kicked harder, gasping for air with the effort of dragging them both to shore from the cold waters. His legs burned, like his lungs, holding his breath so long had hurt more than he expected.

As he got closer to shore, Remus and Janus appeared from the woods nearby. Remus ran into the water, meeting Virgil halfway as he helped the other drag Roman’s unconscious form to shore. They pulled him up enough that the water only just touched his feet on the bigger waves, spreading him out so his wings had room; they dripped water and the gold was dull, no longer reflecting the sunlight as brightly as it did below the waves.

Patton and Logan stumbled over with help from Janus, whose face was ashen and eyes just a bit wider than normal. Patton kneeled besides Roman, holding his hand, Logan next to him, eyes still wide and almost unseeing, a hand on Patton’s shoulder as the moral side cried softly.

Remus moved to hold Roman’s head in his lap, eyes wide as he stared at the other- his unnatural silence disturbing and heartbreaking. He didn’t tear his eyes away, tears beginning to form in his eyes. Remus never cried, they would realise later. Then again… Roman had never looked so dead before.

Virgil looked at Roman’s limp form, face screwing up in anger and sadness. Hot, angry tears filled his eyes and he took a shaky breath. He gripped the fabric of his shirt, swallowing thickly.

Janus looked to him and bit his lips, eyes troubled and brows furrowed. “Virgil..” he said quietly, but the other cut him off.

“No,” he hissed. Virgil took a shaky breath. “Wake up, you idiot!” he snapped at Roman, glaring at the prince’s form. “Wake up you dumb, stupid, annoyingly sing-y idiot-” with every word he moved to hit Roman’s chest with the side of his first, but the actions were desprate and not meant to hurt like an attack, “-Wake up!” he sobbed, anger fading to show sorrow.

Janus reached out to touch Virgil’s shoulder as the anxious side cried, but Virgil slapped his hand away, eyes wide and red, his eyeshadow trailing down with his tears. Janus drew back and watched Virgil stand up and walk to a tree, shaking. The anxious side screamed and punched the tree, making Patton and Janus  flinch in sync at the loud thuds that followed.

Remus gazed down at Roman and bit his lips. “...Wake up,” he whispered, voice fragile, unheard by the rest of their small family. “...I can’t… I can’t lose you..” he said quietly, tears starting to roll down his cheeks as he bowed his head more, closing his eyes as sobs began to build in his chest.

Then Roman moved. His chest convulsed and he coughed, and Remus’s eyes shot open to see his brother struggling to expel the water filling his lungs. Remus quickly helped Roman to roll over, and Patton let go of Roman’s hands as he turned. The prince coughed out the water, left panting as Remus carefully rolled him back to his original position, eyes wide. Virgil had heard the coughing and rushed over, kneeling besides Roman again with wide eyes.

Remus bit his lips. “Ro-Ro?” he asked softly, and Roman looked up to his twin, vision swimming and fading at the edges.

“..Re…?” he mumbled, voice raspy.

Remus smiled a little and nodded. “Yeah,” he said quietly. He sniffled a bit and drew Roman up, hugging him tightly. “Don’t do that again, you idiot,” He whispered, closing his eyes.

Roman nodded a little, and slowly managed to wrap his arms around Remus, wings curling around the other weakly. Patton moved closer and gently hugged the two twins, and Roman looked up, brows furrowing.

“Pat..” he whispered, and the moral side smiled sadly, nodding.

“I’m here kiddo,” he whispered. “We all are,” he murmured with a gentle smile, reaching out and petting Roman’s hair, watching with a gentle smile as he melted, nuzzling into the hold.

Logan came up and hugged Roman as well, Virgil and Janus following, till Roman was wrapped in the warmth of everyone’s arms. The Prince sniffled softly, and he closed his eyes, relaxing. Feeling safe, Roman let himself fall into unconsciousness, secure in the thought that he was safe with his family.

~~~

When the group did return home to the mindscape, it was quiet. Remus took care to hold his twin, whose wings were wrapped around the other carefully, and Remus didn't complain despite the wetness of his twin. Patton held Virgil’s jacket, walking with the anxious side as he took care to check on his hands, which were bleeding. Janus and Logan walked together, both quiet, keeping an eye on the group. Janus would glance at Logan, and his eyes never lost their worried look despite the fact Roman was no longer sinking and instead in the arms of his brother.

Patton and Remus helped to get Roman cleaned off and into warm clothes. The prince didn’t wake up as they worked, and Remus carried him to bed, curling up with his twin. Patton got a few blankets, and watched Remus start to card his finger’s through Roman’s feathers, grooming the golden wings.

As the two took care of Roman, Logan went to make them all some food, soup, while Janus helped to bandage Virgil’s hands. Virgil was quiet and didn’t speak at all, and the mood was morse. When the food was done, the three joined Patton and Remus in Roman’s room to eat.

As they ate, they talked. Remus told them about what happened when he and Roman stopped being close. Patton confided that he felt horrible for the split. Virgil murmured about his suspicions of Roman’s struggle. Janus talked about what might have caused their issues. Logan worked through a list of what they could do. At the end, they decided to set up a schedule to watch the Prince and make sure he recovered, and none of them felt comfortable not watching over Roman. The prince was weak, and at best they could all assume that whatever had happened had exhausted him, and he’d be sleeping for a while. So they started their daily rotations.

Every few hours and every night it was someone new. When Logan sat with Roman, he would read poetry to him in a quiet voice, calm. Other times, he would sit there quietly and hold his hand, tears slowly working their way down his face. Whoever switched with him wouldn’t bring it up, but when he returned to the common room, Virgil would hold out an arm and let Logan curl up next to him, and put on a documentary about the coral reef. Usually, Patton was next to check on Roman, and would spend his time reading books, talking about cooking, baking, telling dad jokes to a quiet room. Sometimes he would trail off and crawl next to Roman, petting his wings and holding his hand. Sometimes he fell asleep like that. When it was his turn to switch, he’d be woken up and would go back to the kitchen, quiet. Logan usually helped him bake, and Remus would help make Patton smile again.

Virgil usually went next, and he’d mostly spend his time sitting on the bed or the desk, listening to music. Even if he looked relaxed, his posture was just a bit tense. He never closed his eyes too long, and every so often he’d check Roman was breathing. When it was his time to switch, he’d leave the room and go to the couch to put the documentary back on. Janus followed next, and he was quiet as he sat with Roman, for ten minutes at least. Then he would talk, talk about the sky, tell small stories of dumb lies, talk about how sorry he was for what he said, how sorry he was to mislead Roman, how sorry he was he failed- for not doing his job and protecting Roman. Sometimes he wouldn’t even sit by him, he’d curl up next to him into his side and warmth, falling asleep.

Remus was last, and he always spent the night. He would curl up next to him and let his tentacles curl around Roman, he would groom his feathers and mess with his hair. He would talk about the day, talk about the ideas that came to mind, talk and talk till he fell asleep curled around his brother.

Recovery was… slow. It took a couple of days, days filled with worry and a house that was just too quiet, too still. The morning that Remus woke up to see Roman’s green eyes staring back at his was the day things began to get better.

That was the day Roman was basically attached to Remu’s side, wings curled around the other as he was carried around from his room to the commons for some food and cuddles. That was the day Roman and Janus apologised, and Janus promised that when he nodded, he was confirming that yes, Roman was Thomas’s hero, no matter what. That was the day Roman let the others pet his wings as he cuddled Remus, who was warm like a furnace in comparison to Roman’s slight natural chill, and melted at the contact he’d avoided for ages. That was the day that Roman was reminded he was loved.

The day after was the day Remus and Roman moved back to sharing a room, the day Remus teased Roman and they ended up running around to the others amusement, laughing and hiding and ending up on the top bunk, Roman laughing as Remus tickled him till they both fell asleep for a midday nap. That was the day Patton and Roman made dinner later that night, and they all curled up on the couch for a documentary, and Roman went to bed feeling loved.

The day after, Roman and Janus talked wing and scale care, and Roman felt loved. The day after, Logan and Roman discussed Roman’s wings as well, and Logan asked if he could fly high enough to see the stars, so they did, and Roman felt loved. The day after, Virgil, Roman, Remus, and Janus spent a day doing face masks and their nails and telling spooky stories before they fell asleep in a pile of pillow, blankets, and golden wings; and Roman felt loved. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the days that followed- Roman felt loved.

And yes, they argued, they fought, they had bad days. There were days Roman and Remus couldn’t stand each other, days Janus pushed a button, days Logan and Roman got in furious debates and screamed till their throats hurt, days Virgil would glare and hiss and Patton wouldn’t know an answer and they would all fight, days everything felt awful and bad and Roman wondered if they still loved him.

But even on those days Remus would slide into Roman’s bottom bunk and they’d cuddle all night, Janus an Roman would talk and have self-care spa days, Logan and Roman would spend hours writing poetry and finalizing stories, Virgil and Roman would talk about Disney movies and criticize the classics in their onesies, Patton would make cookies and talk to Roman and they would sit and cuddle. Despite everything, they would always remind Roman they loved him, and in turn he would as well.

And in the end, recovery took a while. Roman would have bad days, they all would, but Remus was never shy to remind him that he loved him, Janus would offhandedly drop a time for secret meeting (aka, their spa time), Logan would ramble about his wings, Patton would give him an extra hug, and Virgil would offer a small smile, quiet and solitary but it carried the meaning. “You good?”  And Roman would smile back. “Yeah. I’m good.” In the end, they were there for him, they were his family.

And in the end, Roman was loved.

#roman sanders #roman angst #sanders sides #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #patton sanders #Logan sanders #flight of icarus #icarus #hurt comfort #angst with a happy ending #in the end he was loved #sanders sides fanfiction

[shadottie]

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The popping in the distance;  the roar of explosions, the battle cries of countless men, all the sounds of war rang out into the night-- a night Sha only knew for a short while. Dark, towering clouds trailed up into the  sea of stars. A hazy veil of clouds curtained the moon behind. Another great roar rocked through his chest, but this time it came from a beast.  He turned. The maw of a great serpentine beast snapped out with fire.  Spires of purple pulled into existence. He felt himself jump back for space, the weight of a gunblade in his right hand. Nearby were two others in battle, one tall, the other shorter, but both with white hair.  Another roar, and the crisp shatter of crystal erupted in Sha’s ears.  Those spires yanked in every which direction-- towards him.

He crumpled to the ground like a sack of lead. The rush of heat swirled about, until it all fell to a sour chill.

“NO--!”

“No-... No, not another-- no, please--...”

Alphinaud…?

“No, no,  Morgan-- wake up, please--!”

Alphinaud, it’s me--... not-

“How could this happen? How could we let this happen?”

Alisaie? Alisaie, it’s me, Sha!

Moving blurs faded in a coming darkness.

“Sha..”

...Morgan? “Sha, I ...c...an’t…”

----

The viera snapped awake with a yelp, alone under the cool blue light in his humble Pendant apartment. He caught his breath, running a hand through a sunset mane. Icy beads of sweat rolled down his face. His gaze darted about.

This was indeed his room.

...Not wherever that was.

“...Morgan…?” He mumbled to himself.  His gaze trailed to the small trinket on the nearby nightstand, a small, orange crescent crowned blade shape, no larger than a coin, glowing brighter than usual under the braids of twine fashioning it as a pendant. 

Sha lurched up and out of bed after snatching it up. He looked to the window.  He rationally looked to the door next.  Who does he tell? Oskna?  Beq Lugg? Nobody here had contact with the other side-- except-...

Sha threw on a presentable matter of clothes, racing down the iron spiral staircase in the quiet Pendant tower. The front desk was empty. Good. He was a wild mess of a hunter, clutching a necklace in one hand and-- Wicked White-- he forgot shoes.

Cold stone turned to dewy grass.  Only a sliver of a coming dawn lined the iron frames of the Crystarium domes, where Night otherwise ruled for now. Down a hill, and up some stairs, invading the very empty Wandering Stairs-- back down stairs again and to a decorated jade bell painted in gold filigree, perched on a pole on the outskirts of the Musica Universalis.

PRING! PRING PRING! PRING!!

Sha batted at that bell. Its soft chimes tinked in an echo through the quiet market hall. Impatience only gave the silence a moment before he batted his palm at the bell again, and again, and again.

“A’right! A’right! I hear ye, y’ pesky phooka!” harped a mote of light spinning out of the bell.  In a fiery orange, it took form of a small, just the same fiery pixie, with two pigtails much like barbed red flowers themselves. “Wot’s got ye ringin’ me here at this hour!”

“Your majesty,” Sha dipped his head just so slightly, “It’s Morgan-- your-  your Sapling?” “Aye.”

“I-I think something’s wrong. You’ve said before you visit other places. How? I think he needs me! They need me! Alphinaud, Alisaie, the Scions--...” Sha swallowed on a lump in his throat.  It was harshly dry. 

“Somethin’ does seem amiss, aye but….” Feo Ul, or rather, a smaller part of King Titania gave pause for a moment. Their gaze fell to the warm glow peeking through a tightly closed fist at Sha’s side. “Ahhh.” They put their hands on their hips, “If y’can give a certain someone puppy dog eyes, they might be willin’ to help ye, and I will be a branch as well~.”

“Wh-... Who?” Sha frantically asked, hasty than to give himself a moment to think. Who indeed, but the only one who made passage possible for the Scions, for the Exarch’s memories? He gave himself a curt nod, “Beq Lugg. ...Will you come with me, your Majesty? Please?”

“Aye, aye!” came with a lilt and a sigh, as if this was troublesome business of children, “If my sapling’s in trouble, then someone’ll get an earful if they don’t cooperate!”

“Thank you, your Majesty.  W-With haste then!” “Oh! Knockin’ while the homebody might still sleep, I see!” the pixie tittered behind a hand, “Yes, lets~!”

#shadoodles #FFXIV #Morgan Olivey #Sha #Final Fantasy XIV #viera

[introvertguide]

Influential Directors of the Silent Film Era

Upon hearing that I am a fan of silent era film, people will ask if I have a favorite actor or movie from the time period. However, when I am asked about my favorites from other fans of silent film, it tends to involve my favorite director. This is because silent film actors had to over gesticulate and performed in an unrealistic way and could not use their tone or words to convey emotion. The directors also did not have a way to review as they shot and would have to use editing skills and strategic cover shots to make sure that everything was done properly and come out the way they imagined it. It was up to the director to be creative and they were forced to be innovative and create ways to convey their vision. Luckily for many average or poor directors of the time, audiences were easily impressed. However, today's more demanding and sophisticated audiences can look back at some of the genius behind the films of silent era Hollywood.

Alice Guy-Blache: Matrimony's Speed Limit (1913) and The Fairy of the Cabbages (1896)

Art director of the film studio The Solax Company, the largest pre-Hollywood movie studio, and camera operator for the France based Gaumont Studio headed up by Louis Lemiere, this woman was a director before any kind of gender expectations were even established. She was a pioneer of the use of audio recordings in conjunction with images and the first filmmaker to systematically develop narrative filming. Guy-Blanche didn't just record an image but used editing and juxtaposition to reveal a story behind the moving pictures. In 1914, when Hollywood studios hired almost exclusively upper class white men as directors, she famously said that there was nothing involved in the staging of a movie that a woman could not do just as easily as a man.

Charlie Chaplin: The Kid (1921), The Gold Rush (1923), City Lights (1931), Modern Times (1936), and The Great Dictator (1940)

It is unfortunate that many people today think of Chaplin as silly or for screwball comedy when, in fact, he was a great satirist of the time. He created his comedy through the eyes of the lower economic class that suffered indignities over which they had no control. He traversed the world as his "Tramp" character who found his fortune by being amiable and lucky. The idea that a good attitude and a turn of luck could result in happiness was all that many Americans had during the World Wars and the Great Depression. He played the part of the sad clown and he was eventually kicked out of the country for poking fun at American society. Today he is beloved for his work, but he was more infamous than famous during a large part of his life.

Buster Keaton: Sherlock Jr. (1924), The General (1926), and The Cameraman (1928).

That man that performed the most dangerous of stunts with a deadpan expression, Buster Keaton was a great actor, athlete, stuntman, writer, producer, and director. It is amazing that you could get so much emotion out of a silent actor who does not emote, but Keaton managed to do it. He was also never afraid to go big, often putting his own well being at risk to capture a good shot. Not as well known for his cinematography or editing as many of the other directors of the time, he instead captured performances that were amazing no matter how they were filmed. Famous stunts include the side of a house falling down around him, standing on the front of a moving train, sitting on the side rail of a moving train, and grabbing on to a speeding car with one hand to hitch a ride. If you like films by Jackie Chan, know that he models his films after the work of Buster Keaton: high action and high comedy.

Cecil B. Demille: The Cheat (1915), Male and Female (1919), and The Ten Commandments (1923)

Known as the father of the Hollywood motion picture industry, Demille was the first director to make a real box office hit. He is likely best known for making The Ten Commandments in 1923 and then remaking it again in 1956. If not that, he was also known for his scandalous dramas that depicted women in the nude. This was pre-Code silent film so the rules about what could be shown had not been established. Demille made 30 large production successful films in the silent era and was the most famous director of the time which gave him a lot of freedom. His trademarks were Roman orgies, battles with large wild animals, and large bath scenes. His films are not what most modern film watchers think of when they are considering silent films. That famous quote from the movie Sunset Boulevard in 1950 in which the fading silent actress says "All right, Mr. Demille. I'm ready for my close-up," is referring to this director.

D.W. Griffith: Birth of a Nation (1915) and Intolerance (1916)

Griffith started making films in 1908 and put out just about everything that he recorded. He made 482 films between 1908 and 1914, although most of these were shorts. His most famous film today is absolutely Birth of a Nation and it is one of the most outlandishly racist films of the time. The depiction of black Americans as evil and the Klu Klux Klan as heroes who are protecting the nation didn't even really go over well at that time. Some believe that his follow up the next year called Intolerance was an apology, but the film actually addresses religious and class intolerance and avoids the topic of racism. At the time, Griffith films were known for the massive sets and casts of thousands of extras, but today he is known for his racist social commentary.

Sergei Eisenstein: Battleship Potemkin (1925)

This eccentric Russian director was a pioneer of film theory and the use of montage to show the passage of time. His reputation at the time would probably be similar to Tim Burton or maybe David Lynch. He had a very specific strange style that made his films different from any others. The film Battleship Potemkin is considered to be one of the best movies of all time as rated by Sight and Sound, and generally considered as a great experimental film that found fame in Hollywood as well as Russia.

F.W. Murnau: Nosferatu (1922), Faust (1926), and Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans (1927)

I think that most people would know the bald-headed long-nailed vampire Nosferatu that was a silent era phenomena. It was so iconic that the German film studio that produced the movie was sued by the estate of Bram Stoker and had to close. Faust was his last big budget German film and has an iconic shot of the demon Mephisto raining plague down on a town that was the inspiration for the Demon Mountain in Fantasia (1940). Also, Sunrise is considered one of the best movies of all time by the AFI and by Sight and Sound as well as my favorite silent film. Fun facts: 1) more of Murnau's films have been lost then are still watchable and 2) he died in a car wreck at only 40 when he hired a car to drive up the California coast and the driver was only 14.

Erich von Stroheim: Greed (1924)

Maker of very strange German Expressionist films, Stroheim films are often listed as Horror or Mystery even though he considered himself a dramatic film maker. His most famous movie Greed was supposed to be amazing with an 8 hour run time but it was cut drastically to the point that it makes no sense and was both critically and publicly panned when an extremely abridged version was released in the U.S. Over half the film was lost and a complete version no longer exists. Besides this film, Stroheim was even better known for being the butler in the film Sunset Boulevard as a former director who retired to be with an aging silent film star. He also made a movie called Between Two Women (1937) that told the story of a female burn victim that was inspired by the story of his wife being burned in an explosion in a shop on the actual Sunset Boulevard.

Victor Fleming: The Wizard of Oz (1939) and Gone With the Wind (1939)

Although not known for his silent films, Fleming did get his start during the silent era. He was a cinematographer for D.W. Griffith and then Fleming directed his first film in 1919. Most of his silent films were swashbuckling action movies with Douglas Fairbanks or formulaic westerns. He is the only director to have two films on the AFI top 10 and they happened to have come out the same year.

Hal Roach: Lonesome Luke films starring Harold Lloyd, Our Gang shorts, Laurel and Hardy shorts, and Of Mice and Men (1939)

It is not really fair to put Hal Roach in the silent era directors because he was influential at the time but he had a 75 year career. He was a producer and film studio head and even had a studio named after himself. His biggest contribution to the silent era was his production of Harold Lloyd short comedies and he continued to produce films in the early talkies including Laurel and Hardy shorts, Our Gang shorts, and Wil Rogers films. Roach was the inspiration for the film Sullivan's Travels, in which a famous director who only did frivolous comedies goes out into the world to find inspiration to find a serious drama. Roach did direct a single serious drama, Of Mice and Men, but it came out in 1939 and was buried underneath the works of Victor Fleming. The wealthy cigar smoking studio head that many people think of when they picture a film studio suit is based on this guy. The man would not quit and stayed in the business into his 90s and lived to the ripe old age of 100.

#directors #silent films #old Hollywood #1920s #introvert #introverts #influential

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 12”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Mom is about to die.", said his mother, gently stroking Yukari's hair.

His mother told him to go see the sea. At that time Yukari was 6 years old and, he obeyed her without knowing it. Originally, if she said "go" to him, he would go everywhere with the person named Miyoshi Shinto. She left in the hospital patient clothes, his mother and Mishakuji got into a car and headed straight for the sea.

The sunset over the sea was beautiful. The dimly lit sun was slowly disappearing, melting the breeze from the sky and the sea. Stars began to appear in the ultramarine sky, and as the two of them stared at it, his mother began to talk about death.

"That is why I will soon no longer be able to accompany you, Mishakuji-chan. I entrusted Sayuri-chan with the rest, so dear, thank you for being by my side."

Dinner that day was curry, as simple as saying that his mother would say goodbye to him forever. Yukari looked at her while he was on her lap. Eyes the same color as his were staring into his face. Yukari saw them more beautiful than the stars that shone in the sky.

Yukari asked her when they could see each other again.

"Eh? I don't know, I haven't died before to know."

Yukari said that he hated the idea of ​​not being able to see her again.

"It's bad for mom too. ​But, well, this is it. It can't be helped. There's no one who can't die."

Yukari asked if everyone would die. His mother hugged Yukari from behind; the arms around his chest were white and thin like dead branches, but still warm.

"That's right. Everyone will die one day. Taka-san, Mi-chan, Seiya-san, Sayu-chan and Yukari-chan."

As she touched Yukari's cheeks with her warm palm, "But…", she continued to say. "The important thing is to live, not die."

Yukari looked into his mother's eyes. Her brightness that was more beautiful than the stars.

"People live until they die. After my death, Mishakuji-chan will continue to live. It's a shame I can't see Mishakuji-chan growing up and becoming beautiful, but it's fine."

Then his mother smiled slightly, looking at Yukari's face.

"The most beautiful thing is already in front of me."

Then they continued looking at the sea all the time.

Yukari and his mother lived always giving each other warmth, until the sun set on the sea, the night sky fell, and the white moon floated in the black-tinted sky.

++++++++++

Mi-chan was suffocated on the second floor of the cabaret club where he worked.

Seiya was charred on the street near his house.

Sayuri's body was found in the burned remains of "Hanawarabe."

A week after he protected Yukari, he learned of their deaths.

The few burned survivors of "Nibangai" were kindly protected by an unknown organization called "Scepter 4". Careful attention to injured people and sufficient security, although it was not a safe area. They promised to be the lord of salvation, but they were also carefully interrogated.

They wanted to know only one thing.

In other words, who defeated the members of the "Purgatory" clan?

The members of "Purgatory" fought as if burning their entire existence. Thus, even if it was only one member, it was possible that it could achieve combat power comparable to that of executives from other clans if the conditions were met. It wasn't a clan member from "Scepter 4" who defeated such monster, but "Tokijikuin" and "Cathedral" also sent me a message saying "We don't know anything about it."

Where and who submitted them, and for what purpose? It was a mystery that could not be taken care of by "Scepter 4", who was facing "Purgatory".

The interrogation unfolded in silence, with the special abilities and existence of the hidden "King".

However, from the beginning, "Scepter 4" was the only one who paid attention.

A high school student who lived in the "Hanawarabe" bar, Mishakuji.

He was more than a survivor. At the time of discovery, he went to the immediate vicinity of the corpses of the members of the "Purgatory" clan, and a bloodstained "Scepter 4" saber rolled under his feet. He had been informed that the situation was not just a matter of fact, but was so diabolical that the hasty members accidentally drew their swords.

After being protected, Mishakuji Yukari responded to the questioning with surprising obedience. The concern for the high school students who had all their relatives killed also applied to "Scepter 4", but he never got a chance to use it. Yukari simply answered only what he needed.

He picked up the saber from a bar he knew.

One of the men in black was defeated by his sword master.

And he defeated the other one who killed his master.

"In other words, in short, that's how it was."

In "Scepter 4" office, Jin Habari, who was reading the report, raised his face and coldly laughed.

"Two clansmen were sent to kill the former 'Purgatory' clansman, Noriya Baraki. The target started a battle in 'Nibangai' and was pursued while causing enormous damage to the surroundings. 'A' is returned and avenged. There, Isshin Hase, who was a gatekeeper for "Nibangai", and his disciple, Mishakuji, appear, and Isshin Hase kills Purgatory "B". The boy named Yukari brilliantly defeated him."

"Habari. Do you really believe in such a story?"

It was Gen Shiotsu, deputy director of "Scepter 4", who made a stunned voice. His lips were bitterly distorted at the interesting report.

Habari snorted, "Hm." and placed the report on the office desk. He combined the fingers of both hands and pointed his gaze to a corner of the ceiling.

"Sure. If you just listen to the story, it's absurd. If a high school student killed a member of the "Purgatory" clan, then the future of "Scepter 4" is much brighter. Let's check the results of the national kendo tournament when we select members for next time."

"Habari."

"It's a joke. Don't look so difficult."

As if to loosen the wrinkles between Shiotsu's brows, Habari shook his untangled palm slightly and then raised his index finger.

"But no matter how absurd, the situation is in line with the testimony of the boy named Yukari. "B's" fatal wound was due to Isshin Hase's wooden sword, and Baraki's fatal wound was due to the saber. that Yukari had."

"The saber was brought in by "A". Better to think of the record and "A" as compensation. You will see the autopsy result on the record."

"Look at the autopsy result. He had burns all over his body, but it was not difficult for him to fight. There were almost no injuries from Isshin Hase's wooden sword. So there is only one answer."

"……"

"It was the common people who had no abilities that defeated the 'Purgatory' clansman."

Shiotsu's expression became even more pronounced.

"Is that possible?"

"Even the clansman is human. If his throat is ripped open, he will die. If a human dedicates his entire life to that, the sword can hit a stranger."

Habari's index finger settled on the report on the desk. Seeing him narrow his eyes, Shiotsu was caught up in an unpleasant premonition.

"Hey, Habari. No way..."

"I'm interested."

Then Habari stood up with a refreshing smile.

"Let's meet the Yukari boy. Maybe he is our mighty sword."

++++++++++

The man looked like a piercing blue sky.

Habari Jin suddenly appeared in the private room where Mishakuji was living a sheltered life. He was as bright as a cloudless blue sky and full of unshakeable confidence like the sun that shines in the skies. Even if it wasn't to Yukari's taste, the man's beauty was understandable at first glance.

What came out of Habari's mouth was an unrealistic story.

People with abilities that manipulate special powers and a "King". The clan and the members of the clan that comprise it.

He wouldn't have believed it if he had heard it in words. However, Yukari was "experiencing" it. He had seen the men in black wearing flames.

It was a clan called "Purgatory" that burned down Yukari's hometown.

There was little meaning or reason for his murder. It was like a random buried explosion. The damage could not be avoided and will continue to do so, Habari said.

And to end the story...

"Would you like to get into "Scepter 4"?"

Habari said such a thing.

"Our mission as "Scepter 4" is to prevent damage to the city due to the misuse of super powers and reduce the root cause called "Purgatory". If you are willing to do so, I want you to participate in the battle with us. You are qualified to defeat "Purgatory" even though you are an ordinary person with no different abilities."

With that said, Habari extended his right hand.

Yukari narrowed his eyes in a dazzling way.

There was an irresistible power in his hands. Just as gold attracts people, Habari's words were inevitably full of charm that made people clash. Take his hand, nod and swear allegiance. It seemed quite natural to do so, and there was a reason for Yukari to do it.

"Purgatory" had killed all of Yukari's family.

Since he was protected, that thought had never disappeared for a second. "Purgatory" was a great target to spit out the dark emotions that swirled within him. Become a member of the "Scepter 4" clan and hunt down and kill all those beasts. It seemed ideal for Yukari, as if it were a natural path laid out in front of him. Then…

"I…"

Yukari remembered Hase's last words.

"It seems you can go anywhere."

Habari blinked slowly and couldn't measure its meaning.

Looking back into his eyes, Yukari said.

"To be able to go where I want and live how I want. I think that's all my family wanted from me. It's not about revenge or going to war."

He couldn't believe it.

That would also be an excuse. Even if he wanted revenge, there was no need for Yukari to live that way.

Not because they wanted it that way.

Because he wanted to, Mishakuji Yukari will live as Mishakuji Yukari wants.

"I'm going to see beautiful things, so I can't hold that hand."

"I see."

Habari inevitably laughed and withdrew his right hand.

"I'm sorry I held you back. I hope you have a lot of happiness in your destiny."

"Yes. Thanks for your help."

Yukari leaned over and hung the luggage left in the room on his shoulders.

A poor backpack and a sheath that wrapped his favorite wooden sword. With that, he stepped right next to Habari and tried to get out of the private room.

At that moment, a certain thought suddenly appeared.

(Can I kill this person?)

He didn't know why he thought that.

A beautiful "King" like the blue sky. How does that life shine? He may have wanted to see it.

"Three quick steps". Draw the wooden sword, bend Habari's wrist, aim at his head, and prick his throat.

As he listened to Habari on the sidelines, Mishakuji tried to imagine that image in his head.

However, Habari was laughing.

He chuckled softly before his eyes and lightly tugged on his right foot.

With so much movement, Yukari's image was destroyed. The unannounced one was crushed with his left hand, and completely suppressed. The image came to mind clearly, and Yukari shook his head slightly.

There were countless beautiful things in this world that he did not know about. That made Yukari so happy and sad that he wanted to cry.

++++++++++

Shiotsu had an openly relieved expression when he learned that Mishakuji Yukari's recruitment had failed.

"Really, did he go?"

"Oh, I shuddered brilliantly."

Despite being the "King" who rules the order, Habari's ideas were always out of the standard. One of them was the ongoing canal plan. Shiotsu had the honest impression that it was not a joke, even though he had such problems.

"Scepter 4" is a public institution. Habari knew how difficult it would be to incorporate minors and even go out to exchange life and death, and it was Shiotsu's role to be associated with him.

He knew Shiotsu's feelings. Habari had a light tone.

"But that's it. That kind of person will go wherever he wants."

"Well that's correct. There is no way that ordinary people can outperform talented people."

"I never thought they would reject me in such a place. I was surprised after a long time."

Shiotsu opened his mouth angrily.

"What? What did you say?"

"That's why I faced Yukari. He tries to kill me."

Habari said that with a laugh.

Of course, Shiotsu couldn't laugh.

"No kidding! Why would he have to target your life?"

"Ah? He just wanted to do that for no reason. I think the person who can kill the 'King' is unexpectedly like this."

Habari was shocked that he was not in control. Seeing that all the reasoning was beyond his common sense, Shiotsu didn't know what it should look like.

Habari looked up as if something had occurred to him.

"But sending him into the world is like sowing a Shura seed. Maybe I should have killed him. What do you think, Shiotsu?"

"I don’t know!"

Shiotsu yelled, pointing his finger at his temple to avoid a headache.

++++++++++

Exhaling a cloudy white breath, Ichigen Miwa opened a red Japanese umbrella.

The snow was piling up gently and Miwa left a mark on it. Both the eaves and the garden were a silver world. He loosely twisted his umbrella and let the snow fall, with a bitter smile inwardly saying that it would be difficult to remove the snow.

It was not out of his own defense that the wooden sword hung from his waist.

It was because he had a certain feeling. It can be said that it was precognition. To Miwa Ichigen who woke up as "King", the Slate gave him the power to see the future. It was expressed as a vision that came suddenly regardless of Miwa's intention.

And now, there was a scene in front of him that was the same as the vision he had this morning.

A boy was standing in the snow. He was looking at him with a backpack and scabbard over his shoulder. His face was beautiful, but there was a kind of demon that lived in his eyes. He had to carry a wooden sword because Miwa saw the devil.

"Miwa Ichigen-san, isn't it?"

The boy opened his mouth. The line of sight focused on Miwa.

Miwa smiled and nodded.

"Yes, that's right."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Mishakuji Yukari. Please teach me a lesson."

With that said, Yukari took out the wooden sword from its sheath.

Seeing Yukari's posture, Miwa was slightly impressed.

"I see."

After a while of silence, Miwa carelessly said,

"Is there a dead heart?"

Yukari's expression froze.

He didn't understand why Miwa knew. His unique ability was the ability to see the future, and he should not have been able to know the present from a distant acquaintance.

However, when he saw the boy in front of him, his devilish appearance, his standing posture, and the soot-covered backpack, that intuition was suddenly born.

Yukari's appearance affirmed that intuition. With trembling lips, he approached Miwa.

"My master said that your sword technique is more beautiful than anything else in the world."

The evil in his eyes grew stronger. He took the lead heading towards Miwa.

"I want to see it. Please show me."

Miwa narrowed his eyes.

He did not like useless conflicts. However, no matter what he replied, Yukari would lift his sword from him and attack him. Check the "beauty" of Miwa with the sword. For that reason alone, Mishakuji visited Miwa who lived in this mountainous town.

If he cannot exchange words, he must exchange swords.

"Thank you."

Yukari thanked Miwa that he silently abandoned his umbrella and held his sword. The truth contained in it showed that Yukari had not yet been diabolically dyed. At that, Miwa believed that he would have a bit of salvation. He didn't want to think that the last seed Isshin grew would sprout like a demon.

The snow was piling up silently.

Miwa was immovable. Yukari, on the other hand, gently raised the tip of her sword and stabbed. The murderous pressure of aiming the cannon burned down Miwa's throat.

Yukari's body sank as fast as falling snow.

That's when the "words" dropped.

The "words" came to Miwa's mind, as if the white feathers were gently falling. He could not understand the meaning of this feeling that he had experienced many times since his childhood. It was more important for Miwa to put those "words" together than to think about it.

Yukari, who was facing time, clearly felt Miwa's change.

The taut tension was gone in an instant, leaving Miwa's body full of hollows behind it. It seemed easier to pierce and cut it than to hit the vegetation.

However, Yukari's sword did not move.

He seemed like it was full of gaps. He should be hit at any time. He couldn't do that.

Before he knew it, Yukari's breathing was shallow and rapid. Although he still hadn't moved his fingertips, the sweat that broke out wet his body. Yukari's body was already prepared for defeat, although he felt no murder, no pressure, no breeze.

He didn't understand the meaning.

However, he was strictly in front of him.

With his sweaty hands, he gripped the handle of the wooden sword again and Mishakuji consolidated his resolve. At least one sword. He couldn't lose until he saw the beauty of Hase's words. With so much thought, Yukari tried to kick the ground.

Unexpectedly Miwa spoke a sentence.

"One bite, heart and soul."

The snow was piling up silently.

When did he put his knee in the snow? Yukari didn't remember.

A wooden sword slid from his palm, tears welled up in both eyes, and the snow on the ground melted. Ashamed of that, Yukari covered his face with both hands.

A shadow was projected on him.

When he looked up, Miwa was holding an umbrella towards him. He didn't think he would face his sword, with a soft smile.

His head was in a mess and his heart was out of coordination. Still, Yukari barely squeezed his voice out.

"This is the first time I have been defeated with words."

"Yes."

Miwa nodded silently. Neither proud nor humble, just as he was.

"Yukari. If you're okay, why don't you come home?"

"……"

Yukari turned around, because he ignored his actions. Suddenly, he tried to cut off Miwa who was living quietly. He couldn't tell if he could accept Miwa's proposal.

But…

"I want you to tell me about your heart."

That said, Yukari was impressed.

He wants to talk to this beautiful person about him. That thought swelled in his heart. How do this person's words describe Hase, the person who showed him something beautiful for the first time? The feeling was as strong as the urge to see Miwa's sword technique.

"I'll tell you how that person lived."

How did he laugh, cry, eat, drink and fight Isshin Hase? He wanted this person to tell him how beautiful the last brilliance of that life was.

"Come on."

Yukari nodded and stood up.

Then they got into the same umbrella and walked down the snowy road.

#k #k project #k fan clan #k side purple #mishakuji yukari

[seasidewriter1-writes]

Secret valentine exchange of some sort for Canon era lol (does Canon era make sense? I don't think that's the right terminology but whatever)

I got carried away, this is at least 1K in length! I got to do some fun research about Star Wars holidays, and I thought this fit closes to Valentine’s Day!

Fete Weeks on Coruscant were celebrations that Elara had grown to both love and look forward to each year. They were colorful and lively, and the entire planet celebrated, all the way down to Level 5. It created a kind of comradery that was wholly unique to the citizens of Coruscant. Rivalries between shop owners fell to the wayside. Rival criminal families called a week long truce. Unlikely friendships were formed between strangers, some of which lasted for years afterwards. The types of festivities varied depending upon what Fete was being celebrated. For example, whenever the Festival of Stars came around, it wasn’t uncommon to find flashy speeders cruising the city in impromptu parades. The Festival of Life often involved the exchange of meaningful gifts, but it was the celebration of loved ones that made it Elara’s favorite Fete.

This was the first Festival of Life after the start of the Clone Wars, and it felt particularly poignant. They’d been at war for just about a year, now, and life seemed all the more precious. Being with your loved ones seemed all the more special. And though Coruscant had remained largely unscathed by the war––save for its occasional Senate scandal––its peoples seemed to feel much the same. For this Festival of Life was the most vibrant, energetic one that Elara had ever witnessed. People flooded the streets in droves, music spilled out of almost every shop front, and laughter and smiles were plentiful.

“We’re lucky not to have missed this,” commented Obi-Wan.

With a bright smile, Elara bobbed her head in a nod. “I was worried we would,” she admitted. Both she and Obi-Wan stood observing the Fete crowds from the balcony of a tea house. It was nearing sunset, so the light was positively golden. “I’m glad we didn’t; it makes me feel… hopeful.”

After what had felt like week after week of violence, seeing beings of all sorts embrace and laugh and exchange gifts was heartwarming. A reminder that there was still good in the galaxy; and that, one day, things could be good again. There didn’t have to be blaster fire and explosions and death all the time. That folks exist beside one another in peace. It gave Elara hope that there would be more days like this, where she and Obi-Wan could sit side-by-side at their favorite tea house, enjoying one another’s company in quiet bliss. They didn’t have to worry about being Jedi or Generals––they could just be with one another.

“It does, doesn’t it?” There was a smile in Obi-Wan’s voice, one that Elara didn’t have to see to know existed. But she turned to see it anyway. It was soft and gentle, a blissful juxtaposition to the seriousness that so often creased his face. She allowed herself to admire the beautiful regality of his profile, the peacefulness of his expression. These moments were rare and she savored them when they came. This image of him, bathed in the warm glow of golden light, was something she’d cling to in the hopeless heat of battle. It would give her hope.

Elara slipped her fingers into one of the pouches on her belt. Her fingers touched against something thin and cold. She drew it into her palm and squeezed it there, warming the small metal tag against her skin. It was traditional to give gifts to your loved ones over the seven days of the Festival of Light. While Elara appreciated the sentimentality of it, it had never truly been an imperative part of the holiday. Spending time with those close to her had always mattered most. But the Fete felt different this year; and it suddenly felt incredibly important to partake in this tradition.

Elara angled her body so she faced her companion a little better. A small table separated them, leaving only a foot of space between them; but she found that she wished he was closer. “Obi-Wan,” she said gently. He turned towards her, eyebrows gently raised, a smile still playing across his lips. With a smile of her own, she gestured to him. “Give me your hand.”

With a curious look, Obi-Wan offered his hand to her. Elara placed the thin piece of metal into his hand and curled his fingers around it. He drew his hand into himself before opening his fingers once more. What he saw was this: a metal, oblong shaped tag with rounded corners, across the front of which was etched the image of a flower. The Gleannish Snow Blossom. Obi-Wan stared at it a moment before he looked back to Elara, expression impossibly soft.

“This is lovely,” he told her. He looked back to the tag and flipped it over. On the reverse side was a set of carefully etched symbols. “What do these mean?”

“They’re traditional Gleannish symbols that mean ‘my heart,’” Elara admitted in a manner almost endearingly shy.

Obi-Wan’s thumb swept over the symbols, and the most heart warming smile appeared on his face. That smile was turned her way, and it predictably caused her heart to melt. “I shall keep it with me always. A good luck charm.” He smiled back down at the hand-etched tag, which he then placed on the table beside his tea cup. He reached for a pouch on his belt as he said, “I fear this may be entirely underwhelming, now.”

What he pulled out of the pouch was a small, circular piece of gold colored glass. Twine had been threaded through the top of the ornamental piece and created a loop. He then removed a second one from another pouch, this one a bright, vivid red. As he extended them to her, it caught the light and glowed brilliantly. There was a peculiar wrinkling of his forehead––he appeared worried, almost.

“For your window,” he explained. “You… mentioned, once, that the only thing you missed of home were the sunsets.”

A laugh of pleasant surprise left Elara’s mouth. For as harsh as they were, the suns of Tatooine did create spectacular sunsets. There were none like them anywhere else in the galaxy; every other sunset she’d ever seen had paled in comparison. It was one of the very few things she ever felt homesick for. She reached out to take the glass ornaments from him, which she smiled at as she held them up to the light.

“Not underwhelming at all,” she said as she admired the way they caught the light. Elara lowered them to her lap, her smile softening into a lovely, gentle look. The sunsets of Tatooine were something she’d mentioned in passing months ago. The fact that he’d remembered caused a warm, blissful buzz to circulate through her system. “Thank you, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan, who looked relieved that she appreciated the gift, held his hand out to her. Elara reached out and slipped her hand into his grasp, reveling in the warmth of his skin and the callouses that roughened certain spots. Their eyes met with that wonderful shock of electricity, and he lifted her hand to his mouth. His lips gently pressed against her knuckles in a sweet, subtle, stolen kiss. Their hands then came to rest on the table between them. These moments were rare. It was hard to get a moment alone together, let alone one where they could be openly affectionate in some sort of way. It felt perfect, somehow, that they were allowed this moment during the Festival of Life.

It reminded them there was still a life to live; and that they were lucky to get to live it with one another.

#valentine's prompts #LetObiLaraGetFluffy2k21 #a very balance valentine's day #obi lara blurb

[tack-tick]

Technoblade Sometimes Dies

Second and final chapter of my fic. First chapter is here- https://tack-tick.tumblr.com/post/644771793511579648/technoblade-sometimes-dies

Thanks to everyone who read the last part! Honestly wasn’t expecting that many! You have any questions feel free to ask! Have a nice day!

ao3 link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849562/chapters/75614876#workskin

It had been three days.

Three days of Philza staying in the van they hadn’t even finished rebuilding yet. He had already moved a mattress into the room for him to stay. He refused to leave until Techno respawned.

He didn’t want him to wake up alone. He could start making things up for him by staying here. It was the least he could do.

Philza sighed as he looked at the set of papers in his lap. One set was five pages long and filled with convoluted details about the surrender. Dream was making sure that there were no loopholes, that was for sure. Philza had already tried to read through it but he was more worried about the other papers.

All it had on it was “Dear Tommy and Wilbur”. That was as far as Philza had gotten on this one and the five others that had been crumpled into balls and tossed over his shoulder.

How was he going to explain this to them? Despite how much they bickered at home, he had seen time and time again that his sons were always loyal to each other. Hell, Tommy would probably rush over here just to confirm it in person. That “The Blade” had actually been beat. If Tommy came then Wilbur would come. Philza didn’t want them to come to this dangerous mess of a server.

He didn’t want to be the cause of his kids getting hurt again.

Philza put the papers aside and nibbled on one of the muffins Bad had made. He had insisted that Philza take a nap along with them, but Philza couldn’t afford to sleep now. He gave a quick glance around the room.

Techno’s old red cape and crown were laying on a table beside the bed, some of the few personal possessions that had been salvaged from L’Manberg. There was also Techno’s favorite book,The Art of War, that Philza had managed to find a copy of. It wouldn’t have all the notes that Techno’s personal copy had but that had been lost in the explosion. He had started a small fire and curtains had been hung up so that the sun wouldn’t be as bright through the holes in the wall.

The only thing missing was Techno in the bed, either asleep or reading the book.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Who is it?” Philza said as he reached for his sword. He held it at the door.

“It’s just me, Phil!”

Philza sighed in relief as he lowered the sword. It was just Tubbo, the kid who stayed with Niki. He was carrying a basket and Philza could smell the scent of fresh bread. “Niki wanted to come but the bakery is swamped,” Tubbo said apologetically.

“Tell her not to worry about it mate,” Philza said as he placed the basket down beside him. Tubbo quickly glanced at the bed before he sat down on the floor beside Philza.

“I got a letter from Tommy,” he said with a frown. Philza furrowed his brow at that. Even though the two boys had only communicated with letters so far, Tommy had already told him that Tubbo would be his best friend. Honestly, Philza believed him and he was only slightly dreading the day the two would meet and most likely cause chaos together. They’d beat Wilbur and Schlatt by a mile. So, it was odd that Tubbo didn’t seem happy about getting a letter. “He, well he asked about the duel.”

Ah, that was why. Tubbo didn’t know how to break the news either.

“Have you told him yet or...?” Tubbo said. Philza looked down at the paper and sighed.

“That’s what I’m working on mate,” he said as he stuffed the paper in the pocket of his robe. As much as he wanted to wear the L’Manberg jacket, he had almost overheated in the thing. The robes were more comfortable, he had to admit that. He looked down at Tubbo, who opened his mouth before snapping it shut.

“What is it?”

“Oh, well I don’t know if it’s the right time to ask,” Tubbo said as he averted his gaze from Philza.

“Ask away, I needed to talk to somebody anyways,”

“Do you know what it’s like?” Tubbo said, looking past Philza at the empty bed. “To respawn that is.”

“Well, I’ve been lucky enough to not experience it myself,” Philza said, the familiar lie slipping from his lips, “but from what the others have told me,”

He looked away from Tubbo and back at the bed. “It’s like you’re drowning in a black ocean and you have to swim back up,” he said solemnly, “but something keeps on yanking you down over and over again. You’re stuck there for what feels like ages, clawing your way back to life.”

“Well that...sucks,” Tubbo said with a shudder. “Thanks for keeping us out of the fighting,”

“No problem,” Philza said. It was true that he’d had to keep Niki and Tubbo out of the country until the war was over, even though they’d both asked if they could join. They were so young, too young to go through the pain of respawning. It was bad enough that Ranboo had gotten involved, the poor kid was still shaken up from The Final Control Room.

Tubbo stood up and stretched his arms. “Whelp, it’s getting late and I don’t want Niki to worry.”

“Yeah, you should get home,” Philza said as he looked up through the hole in the ceiling. He must’ve missed the sunset because he didn’t remember stars being there last time he looked up. “Stay safe, alright?”

Tubbo gave him a nod and walked towards the door before he turned around. Philza gave him a confused stare before Tubbo went back to him and wrapped him up in a hug.

“I may not know him that well, but based on what Tommy’s told me,” Tubbo said, “He doesn’t seem like the type of guy who gives up easily.”

Philza chuckled a little at that. “Thanks Tubbo but trust me, I know,” Tubbo separated from him and gave him a smile.

“He’s gonna come back, I just know it!” Tubbo said and with one last wave he left.

Philza looked back at the bed and yawned. Yeah, he knew Techno was coming back. He just had to wait a little longer.

Philza yawned again as he turned to look at the fire. He rested his chin in the palms of his hands as he looked at the blaze. He saw the world go slightly dark as he opened his eyes back and forth.

“Can’t sleep yet,” he muttered to himself.

He hoped the blaze of the fire would keep him awake through another night. He yawned again.

+

Philza didn’t know when he fell asleep but he woke up to a rough voice.

“Hey, wake up Phil,” he groaned and slowly opened his eyes before he saw someone sitting on the bed. His eyes widened at the person in front of him.

“Techno?”

Even though he had darkness under his eyes and his hair was a tangled mess, it was definitely Techno. Philza could tell just from his eyes, the bright red was dimmer but they still had the same stubborn determination in them. That was good, Philza hoped it never went away.

“Techno, mate I-“ Philza tried to continue but he couldn’t think of what to say. He couldn’t stop staring at him. What in the world could he say? It was his fault Techno had died. It was his fault that Techno had to go through the pain of respawning, something he would never wish on anyone. Let alone one of his boys.

“Are you alright?” Techno said and Philza glanced back at him. Techno had his arms crossed but Philza could see through the tough act he was putting on. Techno kept on glancing around the room and he was clutching tightly at his red cloak.

“Techno, you don’t need to worry about me right now!” Philza said and he carefully reached towards him. He slowly pulled Techno into a hug and frowned when he felt Techno wince as he leaned into him. “Is it sore?”

“Not like it was in The Void,” Techno said with a shudder as Philza pulled him closer. Philza sighed and gave him a gentle pat on the back.

The two sat there in the moment, just appreciating the fact that they were both alive. That they were still sticking together, like they always had.

“Stop calling me soft, Chat,” Techno murmured under his breath. With that, the moment passed. Philza slowly let Tehchno go, being careful not to hurt his shoulder.

“Oh, Chat’s in a frenzy aren’t they?”

“Twitch, yes,” Techno said with a roll of his eyes, “I think they were even louder in The Void.”

“So, you’re saying the all mighty Chat got scared in there?” Philza said with a small chuckle.

Techno gave a quick laugh and then let out a hiss of pain.

“It hurts to laugh, Phil.”

The two became quiet at that. Techno glanced around the room again.

“Oh, been meaning to ask,” he said and nodded towards the thick set of surrender papers that had fallen off of Philza’s knee. Philza picked them up and handed them to Techno.

“Surrender papers, boring to read,” Philza said. All the legal jargon in it gave him a headache. Techno looked at them and smirked.

Then, he unceremoniously tossed them into the fire.

“What the fuck, Techno!” Philza said, trying to keep himself from yelling so as not to wake anyone up. He started to get up to try and maybe save them but Techno grabbed his arm and sat him back down.

“Relax Phil, I’ve taken care of it already,”

“What do you mean by that exactly!”

“What, you think I didn’t have any backup plans,” Techno said with a huff, “Honestly Phil, I’m almost insulted,”

“Techno, what the fuck did you do?” Philza said with a glare. He hadn’t thought Techno had been awake that long but apparently he had just gotten up and started cutting deals with people. Techno making deals was how he had ended up with one less life in the first place!

“I got our independence, that’s what!” Techno said with a triumphant grin.

Philza looked at him and blinked once, then twice.

“How did…?” He said with a shocked stutter, “You aren’t fucking with me, right?”

“I gave up Pigstep,” Techno said, “I made a deal with Dream that if I lost, I would give it up for independence.”

Philza could only gape at him. He knew how much Techno cared about that old thing. Him and Ranboo had fought with Dream over it again and again. Techno might as well be telling Dream that he lost by giving it up.

“Phil, why are you crying?” Techno said.

“Well, I’m partly overwhelmed mate but,” Philza wiped at his eyes as Techno awkwardly looked to the side, “I don’t understand why you’ve given up so much.”

“You gave up your home, your stuff, your life,” Philza stopped with a suck of his breath as he tried to calm himself down. He could feel more tears dripping down his cheeks. The big one was left unsaid but Philza still remembered.

He remembered when Techno had desperately dug through the rubble of his house. How he hadn’t stopped for hours until his hands went raw from the dust and cuts. How he kept shouting Carl’s name over and over again until his voice had gone out.

He’d come out of there with a bloody saddle in his hands and murder in his eyes.

“I don’t want you giving up so much only because of me,” Philza said as he looked at the many scars that Techno had acquired during this war. Scars that hadn’t been there before and wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for him.

“Phil, look at me,” Techno said and Philza obliged. “I promise you I wouldn’t have given up one of my lives for this if I didn’t genuinely believe in what you’re trying to do. Because if I trust anyone to make a government work,” He said with a calm smile, “It’s you.”

Philza let out a watery chuckle. “Jeez, that’s no pressure or anything,” Techno rolled his eyes at that. “But, thanks mate. I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

Philza suddenly had a slightly disturbing thought. “Techno, how long have you been up?”

“Oh, just an hour I think.”

Philza immediately shot up from his seat at that. He could feel his wings instinctually flap up and his blood pressure was probably rising again. “Bloody hell, Techno!”

“Relax Phil, I’m fine.”

“You’re supposed to rest Techno! So that you can heal properly!”

“Phil, come on!”

“I’m serious mate! Go the fuck to sleep!”

“I mean, I was thinking we should tell the others that I’m currently not dead.”

“I’ll do that tomorrow. You need your rest!”

“But Phil-“

“Technoblade Minecraft,” Philza said with his long-since perfected dad glare. “You go the fuck to sleep right now or I will ground you.”

“You can’t ground The Blood God, Phil!”

Philza just raised an eyebrow at him. Technoblade sighed and carefully laid down, using his thick cape as a blanket. Philza fondly smiled down at him as he tucked the cape over him.

“Phil, Chat wants you to tell them good night,”

“Oh alright, good night Chat and good night Techno,” Philza said. He turned around and went to his mattress that he hadn’t even used yet over the past three days. It was time to use it too as he felt waves of exhaustion suddenly hit him. He laid down and closed his eyes to go to sleep when he heard it. He heard soft breathing from where Techno was.

He was already asleep. Good, Philza had known he would be out fast. He tucked the blanket over himself and closed his eyes to go to sleep. There was a lot to do tomorrow, after all.

Tomorrow, the others will see Techno again. Tomorrow, he’d write that letter to Wilbur and Tommy. Tomorrow, he’d officially invite Niki and Tubbo into L’Manberg. Tomorrow, they’d have the biggest celebration because they were finally free.

Yes, tomorrow was the start of a new beginning for L’Manberg.

#dream smp #technoblade #philza #Tubbo #fanfiction #And nothing else bad happened ever again #:) #I have so many ideas for this that are very hard to put into writing #But 4K words let’s freaking goooo #sbi swap #How does respawning work on the SMP? #who knows! #not beta read at all

[crewhonk]

Hey loved the Poe thigh-riding fic! Could you maybe do poe x reader wedding night smut where they get married quickly before a big battle cos they don't want to die not married to each other? That would be awesome thanks😊

AN: No smut, cause I got too excited about the wedding part for it tbh. y'all can request it tho if its something you want

_____________

The low hum of the X-Wings and the small sound of static from he comm systems were the only thing either you or Poe could hear. You were on your way to Exegol– the final big battle you’d been praying for day and night just so that you could hang up your blaster and helmet for a long while. You wanted a small farm with your boyfriend, Poe Dameron, and you wanted rocking chairs not he front porch. You wanted to have a sunset moment with you wearing a soft dress and Poe looking at you like you’d laced the night sky with stars. 

That was the image you kept with yourself as you arrived, the battalion of fighter jets already coming under heavy fire. The image of the sun setting and warm light drifting through your cottage kitchen window and filling the room with a soft golden glow was what you held onto when the original comm tower was shut down. The sound of little feet pattering around the house and little voices shrieking with joy as they landed themselves in daddy’s arms helped you keep from spiralling down he the ground when Snap died. 

It seemed when all hope was lost, Poe Dameron, the love of your life, really loved to make it all about him. 

“YN!” He cried, fear making his voice yell. He steered his ship to spiral around yours and shoot down the TIE chasing you. “YN!” He called again, coming to speed beside you. You looked at him briefly before clenching your teeth and maneuvering in a way that took down three more ships. 

“Yes, Poe?” You tried, grunting when the G’s finally stopped. 

“Marry me!” He shouted, dancing his ship around your own. Time seemed to slow down in that instant, and you found yourself having time to look up at the underbelly of his ship as if he could see your incredulous expression. 

“You know, I really don’t think that now is the best time for that!” You called back, scooping up under him to shield him from the flames of a bomb that had gone off– thank force that you’d decked out your ship with flame resistant plating when you could. 

“I’m not going to die without you being my wife!” He cried out, watching as three more of your squadron were blown from the sky. 

“How about you don’t die at all, huh?” You yelled back, soaring towards the newly designated target. 

“I want you to be my wife, YN. I won’t wait a minute longer.” He replied simply, and you were silent for a few moments. Steering your ship and protecting Poe almost subconsciously. You bit your tongue and nodded, squeezing your eyes shut as you opened the comm link to Jess’s line. 

“Jess.” You said and she grunted in response. You hadn’t known her for a long time, but int hat time you’d went from her worst enemy (she was protective of her Black Squadron Family) to being soulmates and threatening Poe that you’d leave him anyway for her. 

“What’s up?” She called back, trying her best to sound casual as you watched her pull a risky maneuver, falling 100 feet before pulling up and sending TIE fighters to smash against the ground. 

“Marry us. Me and Poe. Marry us.” You said and she laughed out loud. 

“I’m kind of busy here, Kid.” She snorted, blasting more ships. 

“Jess, please.” Poe gasped, narrowly missing a tracking missile. Jess, upon hearing The Poe Dameron use his manners for once in her life, stopped herself from making any further jokes. It was when Poe used his manners that she knew something was serious. 

You both could hear Jess sigh slowly before clearing her throat. “We are gathered here today–”

“Skip to the good part.” Poe demanded and you and Jess snorted. 

“Will you, Poe Dameron, take YN YLN to be your lawfully wedded wife and cherish her in sickness and in health and until death do you part?” Jess asked and you could almost hear Poe’s smile through your headset. 

“I do.”

“Will you, YN YLN, take Poe Dameron to be your lawfully wedded husband and cherish her in sickness and in health and until–”

“I do, I do. Yes.” You sniffed, tears coming to your eyes. Sure, it wasn’t the perfect wedding, but damn if it didn’t make your soul feel like gold. 

“Then by the power vested in me by the force and whoever else, I declare you man and wife. I’d say you may kiss the bride, but–” Jess grinned, watching as yours and Poe’s ships came closer together. The battle was falling, and your side was losing, but you’d felt as if you’d won a million dollars. Poe steered his ship to be as close to yours as possible and looking to the side, you placed one hand on the window, watching as he mirrored your actions. 

“I love you,” You whispered, and he smiled, the corners of his lips meeting his ears. 

“I’m going to kiss you so hard when he survive this battle.” He swore and you giggled, pulling up to avoid another explosion. 

“I’m counting on it, Dameron.”

______________________________

The battle had finished by some miracle you likes to call Uncle Lando. 

You arrived back at base quickly, and landed your ship. You popped the cockpit roof before the plane had even touched the ground fully and were climbing out of it as soon as you were cleared. Your combat boots hit the ground with a thud as you began running into the crowd, searching for the one person you wanted to see. 

You found him, climbing out of the red x-wing, and sprinted towards him s best you could considering your ability to weave through crowds who had just won a war. 

It was just as he turned away from he ladder that you threw your arms around him, pressing your lips to his in a feverish, desperate kiss of tongue and teeth and surprised grunts. 

Upon realizing that it was you, Poe wrapped two strong arms around your waist and leaned forward, making you arch your back and press your body into his. Your hands were splayed across his cheeks as his lips worked your own. Your noses bumped each other in your haste to just kiss each other for the first time as husband and wife and free people. 

You pulled away eventually, and before you could even say anything, he unzipped the top of his flight suit quickly, pulling the chain from his neck and unlooping it. He slid his mothers ring from it and grabbed your right hand, dropping it hastily and snagging your left one instead. You giggled at his nerves and excitement as he slid the ring on your finger– it was a perfect fit. 

“I had it adjusted a week after I met you.” He admitted, pink dusting his cheeks as he smiled sheepishly at your through his lashes. You grinned– a full, bright smile that stole the breath froths lungs as you launched forward and kissed him soundly. 

“I love you, Poe Dameron. This was the best damn wedding day in the galaxy.”

“I happen to agree, YN Dameron. And I love you so much more.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron smut #poe dameron oneshot #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron angst #poe dameron x you #poe dameron blurb #commander dameron