#or they have their pet crow to navigate for them

[prythianpages]

Dandelions | Azriel x Witch Reader

summary: Azriel accidentally welcomes your dysfunctional family into your home.

warning: I can't really think of any at the moment besides violence from a witch fight, basically you being protective over Az

a/n: There's not very much known about the witches in the ACOTAR universe so I'm just taking creative control here (: If you're interested in reading more of Az x witch reader, you can find the masterlist here.

**

As Azriel sits in your living room, the familiar weight of concern settles in his chest. The past few days have felt like a quiet storm and the bond between you, has fallen eerily silent far too many times to go unnoticed. 

Of course, he’s already asked if you were alright but he sensed the lie as it brewed in your eyes before it slipped out of your lips. The shadows that remain at your side keep him updated on your whereabouts but besides a crow following you one day, there’s nothing else to report. He wonders if you’re upset with him.

Azriel tries to engross himself into the book–as it’s one you recommended to him– in his hand but his eyes keep drifting from the pages. He steals glances toward the closed door of your study. A vibrant green glow, your magic, spills from the edges of the door. He tries to pull on the bond but cannot find you on the other end. You shut him out. Again. 

Three knocks pull him out of his thoughts. Ignoring the skittering dance of his shadows and the way Pearl–your pet spider–retreats back to her corner, he opens the door. There’s no one on the other side. A perplexed furrow forms on his brow as he peeks into the hallway, dispatching his shadows to investigate further. They return with no insights, leaving an unsettling silence in their wake. 

“Hey Az?”

Azriel closes the door and locks it. He turns to see you stepping out from your study. You smile at him sheepishly, toying with your glowing hands. “Can I have some of your blood?” Your voice is surprisingly calm, despite the look in your eyes, and you must mistake his silence as apprehension because you’re adding: “Just a drop!”

He would’ve gladly granted your request but before he can even utter a word, a sudden shift in the air catches your attention. Your eyes widen, a touch of panic flickering within them. It’s a fleeting moment where control slips from your grasp, and in that heartbeat, your side of the bond bursts open.

His wings quiver as if struck by an invisible force. A torrent of emotions crashes over him like unrelenting waves on a storm sea, flooding and overwhelming his senses. Worry etches lines on his face at the raw intensity of your feelings. 

“Toad’s blood!”

In the blink of an eye, he’s standing in front of you, his hands cradling your face. The hazel depths of his eyes burn with concern but you avoid his gaze, your frantic eyes darting around the room as if looking for something–someone.

“y/n, my love,” Azriel implores softly, his heart pounding in his chest as he desperately tries to navigate through the sea of your emotions. “What’s wrong?”

Your eyes land on the door and a palpable tension fills the air. “You opened the door.”

Azriel’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Someone knocked.”

You swallow thickly. “How many?”

“What?”

Your voice is firmer this time. “How many knocks?”

“Three.”

You’re pulling out of his grasp abruptly. You run back to your study and a trail of perplexed worry etches further across Azriel’s face as he follows after you. With a furrowed brow, he observes your hurried actions. Windows are slammed and shut and locked in quick succession. He blinks and you’re running to your room next. “y/n, please talk to me! Tell me what’s wrong!”

You pause, if only for a brief moment, your eyes finally meeting his. “You just opened the door to a gateway of evil.”

“Evil??” Azriel’s wings flinch, the word carrying an unexpected weight. “What evil?”

“My mother.”

A sense of impending danger guides your every move and you’re sprinting past him. Over your shoulder, you urgently command, “Quick! Lock all the windows!”

Azriel responds without hesitation. He races back to your living room, determined to secure the window he opened earlier. As he does so, he sees a crow flying toward him. It’s familiar to both him and his shadows. The dark tendrils hasten to close the window beside him and the crow, unable to halt its trajectory, collides with the glass.

“I think that's all of it,” you say with a sigh of relief. However, it’s short lived as an overlooked detail dawns on you. The window in your kitchen.

Azriel, his shadows and you are already racing toward the kitchen but despite your efforts, you’re too slow to close it. Your sock clad feet glide across the floor and Azriel wraps an arm around your waist from behind, preventing you from falling. It tightens around you, drawing you snugly against him in a protective embrace, just as the crow flutters its wings menacingly and tauntingly above you. His eyes narrow at the bird and his shadows poise like a snake ready to strike. 

Shrouded in a swirling cloud of purple smoke, the crow undergoes a mystical transformation. Its plumage shifts and twists, feathers unraveling and converging as if guided by an unseen hand. A silhouette begins to take form amid the enchanting mist and as the last tendrils of purple dissipate, a beautiful older female stands before you.

“That is not the way to welcome your mother, Dearest.”

**

The last time you saw your mother was when Hybern became allies with Spring. She had asked you to join her coven, out of worry for you if you stayed in the court that was crumbling apart, but Feyre had already secured plans to bring you to Velaris. The City of Starlight was a safe haven for you…until the Hybern attack unveiled its secret. She’s been reaching out ever since–sending countless letters and when those did not work, she started sending ravens.

Though she delves in dark magic, you know your mother means well. She loves you and has been protective of you. Overly protective. Perhaps, you were being dramatic about it all but you weren’t ready for her to meet Azriel yet. You didn’t even get to finish the protective spell you were planning on casting upon him. All you needed was a drop of his blood to complete it…

“Mother,” you reluctantly greet.

She smirks at you. Every muscle of your body tenses and you place your hand over Azriel’s to let him know it's okay. Ever the perceptive one, your mother catches the subtle gesture. Her gaze falls upon the protective presence behind you. She narrows her eyes and points a perfectly manicured finger at him as if to say “I’ll deal with you later.”

With a wave of her other hand, a cage materializes out of thin air. You can barely make out the tiny green creature in it before your mother is thrusting it into your hands.

“Hold your father, will you? I need to go fetch your sisters.”

She says it so casually, it’s comical almost. You grimace as your gaze flickers to the small lizard. It nervously scurries within the small cage it is confined in and you’re tempted to drop it. 

Your father, a former high noble fae from Spring, had been cursed into a feeble gecko at the powerful hands of your mother. She did it shortly after she caught him trying to take your life at the mere age of two. He had plans to kill your mother next and take her heart for his own so now your mother loves to torment him by carrying him with her so that each remaining day of his life is as miserable as can be.

Verena, your mother, walks over to your door as if she owns the place. With an air of confident authority, she swings it open, revealing two females on the other side—your sisters, each birthed from a different father. One, with dark, flowing hair and sinister eyes, wears a smirk that mirrors Verena’s. Maeve. The other, with lighter hair, possesses kinder eyes, and delicate white feathery wings. Thea. She looks at you apologetically. 

You’re slipping out of Azriel’s grasps and joining your family in your living room. The cage falls from your grasp, rolling onto the ground. Binx dives out from the shadows, eyes alight as the cat spots the green creature within. A curious paw swats at it, its claws peeking through the thin gaps at the top of the cage but no one bats an eyelash at the terrified squeak.

A scowl settles onto your face. “Mother, Maeve, Thea. As quickly as you arrived, I want you all to leave,” you say, clapping your hands at them for emphasis. “I did not invite you here.”

“No,” your mother agrees with a nod but her eyes are fixed on something–rather someone behind you. “He did.”

**

Four pairs of eyes are on him and Azriel only cares about one. Yours. His knowledge over your family is limited. He knew your father was a piece of scum but he did not know he still lived. There’s a tightening in his chest and he knows it's coming from your side of the bond. He sends a wave of reassurance through it because if you’re okay, he’s okay. Even if your family is a little overwhelming.

Verena circles around him, her gaze sharp as the crow she morphs into. Azriel stands still, his shadows swirling defensively. When Verena extends toward the talon of his wings, the shadows snap at her, causing her to withdraw. A wicked grin appears on her face.  “A Shadowsinger,” she observes. “What is your name?”

“Azriel.”

Verena hums, stepping back, her eyes scanning every inch of him. There’s a devilish gleam in them when they settle upon his large, membranous wings. He instinctively tucks them back.

“By The Mother, you look absolutely ravishing,” purrs your dark-haired sister.

The lighter haired sister beside her smiles. “He is quite beautiful.”

“Maeve,” the darker haired sister introduces herself. Her dark brown eyes sparkle in amusement. She holds her hand out to him. “We haven’t yet had the pleasure. y/n has been hiding you for far too long.”

Azriel does not take her hand. Instead, he watches her with wary eyes and she laughs. As her eyes deepen in hue, mirroring the unsettling darkness akin to yours, an ominous glow envelops her hands. It resembles a delicate yet foreboding cloud of gray smoke that dances around her fingers. 

**

“Don’t touch him,” you growl, raising your own hand. A raging green fire roars from your fingertips as the darkness takes your eyes.

Maeve turns to hiss at you. Her cloud of smoke is steadfast as it continues its path to Azriel. Your mate. You hiss back but your mother rests a hand on your shoulders and out of the corner of your eye, you swear Thea sends a reassuring gesture your way.

“Oh, come on.” Maeve persists, her voice, both enchanting and seductive, beckons like a magnetic force. She steps closer to him, ignoring the heated glare you send her way.  She places a hand on his arm and you're shaking with rage as you recognize the haze that clouds Azriel's eyes. 

“You look hungry. Would you like a taste? What do you think, Shadowsinger?”

Smoke wraps around him, infiltrating his senses and charging the air around him with an alluring energy.  It smells like chamomile and lavender–a scent intricately tied to you, the enchanting witch he calls his own. You’re shoving away from your mother and prancing on your sister, the two of you tumbling to the ground. “Let him go!”

The room becomes a radiant spectacle, bathed in the ethereal clash of gray and green magic. The air is charged with the tension of their coexistence and you’re pinning your sister to the floor beneath you. “Why do you always have the thirst to take everything I have?”

“Because it’s fun,” Maeve hisses at you, her dark eyes a reflection of yours. “Besides, our family is in need of a new pet, don’t you think?”

“Girls, stop it this instant!”

“Can it be something cute this time? Like a puppy!”

“Thea, shut up!” You say brusquely as you look up.

Thea winces at your tone. Maeve takes the sliver of your distraction to push you off of her. The two of you hastily get to your feet and you hold your hands out ready to unleash the vibrant, verdant rage coursing through your veins at her. 

“I think y/n is ravishing this evening. Don’t you?”

Azriel’s voice is light, dreamy almost as he’s in a trance. He blinks and the tendrils of magic briefly cloud his vision before it clears. He steps away from Maeve’s cloud of smoke, repulsed by her magic and his eyes are searching for you.

His gaze, steady and filled with a profound warmth, captures yours and it feels like a gentle cascade of water extinguishing a flame. The vibrant green fire in your hands gracefully fades away, mirroring the softening of your eyes in the tender exchange. 

“And he’s not even lying,” Maeve frowns with a huff, her voice and eyes returning to normal. Disappointment is written all over her face. No one has been able to escape from her power of seduction before. “How dull.”

Your hand finds solace in Azriel’s and he locks his fingers with yours. You smile at him and he smiles back. You are the only enchantment he desires and your heart swells. You're so happy you could kiss him--

Thea, always one step ahead of everyone, gasps. “He’s your mate.”

Your mother’s eyes undergo a shadowed transformation of her own, reminiscent of a crow’s ominous gaze. Azriel feels a subtle unease but you remain composed. Gracefully, she approaches, her movements mirroring the fluid elegance of a bird. With a discerning sniff, she assesses the air around you both. Her keen eyes flicker to Azriel’s chest–where the emerald, the greatest token of your affection, securely rests beneath his leathers. His siphons awaken in response, pulsing with a powerful and protective luminescence.

“Your heart. Your precious, precious heart,” she whispers, her voice on the brink of tears.

There’s a drastic shift in her voice when she speaks again. It darkens with a mother’s fierce intensity and echoes through the room like a hissing serpent. “You’ve given it to him.”

Your mother outstretches her hand, toward Azriel, her gesture laden with an unmistakable agony. With a resolute urgency, you press your hand against Azriel’s chest, your other hand still wrapped around his. You can feel the pulse of his heart beneath the gem. It’s fast and erratic but gradually soothes under your touch. 

Given your family's history, you can't blame your mother for reacting this way. Maeve's father was a charming merchant, who enjoyed traveling through the sea, and was very aware of his heartthrob status. Your mother was not immune to his allure and though she did not love him, she was possessive over him. So when she caught him touching another female, she cut his hand off, forcing him to always think of her for the rest of his life. She keeps the hand she severed preserved in a jar at her house. 

On the other hand, Thea's father was a peregryn warrior who loved studying the stars in his free time. He was probably the best male out of all three...if he hadn't picked his loyalty for his court over your mother. Surprisingly, your mother left him alone and unharmed but she made a good example of him to you all because even the kindest of men were not to be trusted.

But Azriel is different. 

His sweetness, care and love create a warmth that gently embraces your heart. You’ve spent a lifetime shielding your heart as your mother taught you but with Azriel, it feels different. He is your mate. Your other half, crafted by The Mother and Cauldron itself. In his presence, you find a haven where vulnerability is not a weakness but a welcomed connection. 

“I love him.”

Wheeling with a snarl, she fixes her sharp gaze back onto you. Her hand tenses midair and her talons peak out before dropping it back to her side. She leans so close you can feel her breath tickle yours.  Her gaze travels down to the obsidian necklace you keep on at all times for protection and she feels her throat tighten when she sees the new charm attached to it. It’s an initial. A for Azriel.

“You stupid, foolish girl. What have you done? Have I taught you nothing?”

Azriel growls and his shadows tense as they await their master’s next order. Your hand tightens against him and you send a wave of reassurance through the bond. This was exactly what you had been hoping to avoid. The last male you introduced to your mother was turned into a frog and you hadn’t put up a fight as the male had fallen under Maeve’s spell. But this time, you were willing to fight and defend what was yours. 

“I think it's quite brave,” a dreamy voice cuts in through the tension. “A true testament to love.”

“Shut up, Thea.” Maeve snaps. “No one asked for your opinion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you ask for a reading!”

“Azriel.” Your mother’s voice is sharp, demanding attention. “You hold something extremely dear to me now. If I find you to be careless with it–if you so much as hurt y/n in any shape or form…I will hunt you down, rip your heart out and eat it for breakfast.”

“She’s not joking,” Maeve decides to chime in. “She ate Thea’s lover for dinner once.”

“Must you always jump at the opportunity to remind me?” Thea retorts with a look of pained disgust on her face and you almost feel bad for her. She did love that male terribly, as undeserving as he was.

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal, my dearest,” your mother says in a perplexed tone. She rolls her eyes at the scoff she received in response. “He was a human.”

“He was the love of my life!”

“And others too.” Maeve cuts in, lips curled into a lopsided smirk as she gazes at her nails. “Mother did you a favor there.”

“This,” you say to Azriel, lifting your chin toward your family. Your mother and sisters continue to bicker back and forth while Binx zooms after the rolling cage imprisoning your father. You sigh deeply and Azriel now understands why you were on edge all week, why you had shut him out.

 “This is my family.”

As if on cue, your family turns to him. Binx rests a paw on the rolling cage, halting its movement. Even the green gecko inside seems to peer curiously at the Shadowsinger, its tiny eyes glinting in the dim light.

 Your mother, a formidable figure with an air of ancient wisdom, focuses her attention to Azriel. The expression on her face is a complex blend of skepticism and concern. Her dark eyes narrow as if probing his very soul–a look that has sent many to mad chaos and the room seems to hold its breath as Azriel meets her gaze. 

You step in between them both. “Mother, must you always do this?”

“It’s okay. I have nothing to hide,” Azriel reassures you as he holds your mother’s gaze, unwavering and resolute. “I would never dream of hurting y/n. I love her.”

“He speaks the truth, mother. He’d kill for her, I’ve seen–ow!”

Your mother’s keen eyes linger on him. Despite Thea’s words, she wants to see for herself. The room feels suspended in time as she carries on with probing into his very soul. She’s peering into the depths of his heart, seeping into its cracks and searching for any hint of insincerity. The tension in the room starts to dissipate as she must sense something she agrees with. Slowly, her lips gradually curve in a smile–a genuine one. 

“I like this one,” your mother says as she turns to you. “I shall spare you the part of my visit where I ask you to come back home with me as I now know it will be pointless. So let’s have dinner, hmm? All this excitement has me famished.”

Your mother clasps her hands together, springing the room into action. Binx resumes messing around with your father and Maeve makes her way to your kitchen, your mother following after her.

“I did not agree to you staying for dinner!” You call after them, shooting Azriel an apologetic look.

“She was going to agree anyway.” 

Azriel turns to your sister–the closest to a normal relative you seem to have. Her blue eyes, flecked with silver hold a spark of otherworldly wisdom as she regards him. 

“You can see the future?”

She tilts her head, a cascade of blonde curls falling over her shoulder. Her lips curl into a knowing smile and her peregryn wings flutter. “Only what the stars tell me,” she replies cryptically. “Would you like me to read your cards?”

Azriel contemplates for a moment. He turns toward the kitchen and his eyes find you. You’re engaged in a lively debate about the perfect amount of herbs, claiming that only a pinch of thyme is needed while Maeve stubbornly shakes her head.

“Out of my kitchen! Go seduce a pig for all I care before I hex you with an angry nest of bees!” 

His love for you deepens with every passing second and he nearly startles when he feels a flutter in his chest. It’s you. You echo the sentiment very loud and clear through your end of the bond.

“No.”

“Why not?” She teases, though she already knows the answer.

“Because right now, I have everything I could ever want.”

**

Once your family departs, relief washes over you, and you finally feel able to breathe freely. Leaning against the door, you release a sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter shut momentarily. When you reopen them, your gaze lands on Azriel in the living room. He's seated, head tilted back, eyes closed, weariness evident. Moving towards him, you saunter over, and without a word, he instinctively pulls you onto his lap, his eyes still shut in a shared moment of exhaustion and solace.

Your hands tenderly cradle his face, bathed in the soft glow of your green magic. You massage his temples, your fingertips tracing away the remnants of the headache your mother’s earlier probing had left behind. A contented sigh escapes him at your soothing touch. 

“Thank you,” he breathes and his hands find their place at your hips.

You press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “I should be the one thanking you.”

He opens his eyes and there’s a subtle perplexity among them. “How come?”

“Because they’re chaotic,” you answer and tipping your chin down sheepishly, you continue, “I’m sorry for shutting you out. I was doing my best to keep them from coming but I should’ve just told you instead. I was trying to protect you from all of this–”

A scarred finger props your chin up, urging you to look back up at him. The hand that remains at your hip tightens with a comforting reassurance. You find yourself lost in the depths of his beautiful hazel eyes and like always, they anchor you like a tranquil forest bathed in sunlight.

“You don’t have to protect me from this. I accept it–all of you. I love you,” he murmurs. The corner of his lips tug up into a small smile. “Though I do find you unbearingly adorable when you’re protective.”

“Adorable?” You can’t help but laugh. Others would beg to differ. You're sure your eyes have given Cassian nightmares.

“Especially when it’s all for me,” he nearly purrs, pressing kisses to the corner of your eyes. The very eyes he adores, even when they transform into inky pools of black.

He kisses the nape of your neck and your breath hitches. “Did you mean it?”

Azriel hums against your neck. “Mean what?”

“What you said to Thea earlier,” you say, mindlessly confessing that you had been listening to his short conversation with your sister. 

You feel him smile against you. “Of course I did. Whatever the future may bring, as long as I have you, that's enough for me. You’re my everything.”

When he pulls away to look at you, you’re beaming at him. His nose brushes against yours and your hands cup his face again, eyes flickering to his lips before you guide them to yours in a slow yet passionate kiss. You slide your tongue along the softness of his bottom lip, reveling in his honeyed taste and he parts his mouth for you, a small sound of pleasure slipping between your lips.

You kiss him and kiss him until the future seems like a distant thought, overshadowed by the perfection of the present.

**

a/n: I was driving to an appointment when I randomly thought of how chaotic reader's family is and wanted to introduce them formally in case I want to incorporate them in future imagines. This takes place shortly before the one where you get kidnapped.

Also, I'm currently watching the Witcher and I couldn't help myself and use this scene to help me write the part where Maeve tries to seduce Az.

tagging: @fxckmiup

#azriel x reader #azriel x witch!reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel imagine #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar x y/n #acotar x you #azriel fluff #az!dandelions

[bubblyernie]

Hiya! I notice you’ve played a lot of dnd rangers just like me! I wanted to ask what draws you towards the class? what do you enjoy about the class? And what do you think is the classes identity what makes a ranger ?

I’ve played swarmkeeper feywanderer horizon walker drakewarden and gloomstalker, I’m drawn towards the class in part because I’m a Ranger irl it’s my day job, but I also love the jack of all trades support vibe of the class it doesn’t excel anywhere but can help every class with a little bit of something and I view the classes identity as the professional adventurer someone who spends their life balancing the threats of the world whether that be the threats of the wild the monsters who inhabit it or the people who cross it, balancing their needs, kinda like Geralt of rivia balancing the needs of “monsters” and people, they work to make the world a safer better place picking up whatever skills and magic help them survive, I also note that every dnd class is either some form of Hunter or Tamer, the gloomstalker, horizon walker ,hunter and monster slayer, hunt the creatures of the wild, while the drakewarden, the swarmkeeper, the beast master and the fey wanderer spend their time befriending and taming the monsters of the wild. I don’t mean to answer my own question but I’m interested as someone who’s played the ranger just as much as me how your opinions may differ (I also especially love your borrower style ranger the little fellow is so cute and very well drawn)

Thanks for listening to my rambling and questions you can ignore this if it’s too much for whatever vibe you’re feeling rn have a lovely day !

hi!! Fun fact, i actually havent played any rangers 🥴 I'm the kinda dnd player who plays in like 2-3 campaigns but makes like 50 ocs. ASDFJKSDJF (I've only played a cleric and a barbarian in campaigns, but for oneshots I've tried every race) Id love to play one, but its kinda hard to do that for a oneshot since so much of the ranger class is dependent on favoured terrain/knowing your surroundings and levelling.

This is SUCH a fun ask because I LOVE the ranger class for its very niche yet versatile character archetype. I think if there's one type of word I could use to describe a ranger is a survivalist — the rangers that I do have, a handful of them are fashioned after Scouts/parkrangers (because....I was one.) or famous character types that do a lot of adventuring like cowboys, pirates, explorers etc. — if I'm being honest, ranger is the most 'adventurer' type there is!

(as a note here, i know pointy hat has mentioned a ranger's big thing was an animal companion -- i think?? IDR -- which is like a fun take. I really like his stuff, but i feel like a class shouldn't be bound to smth like a pet. any class can have pets!)

To use my own as an example, I have a bounty hunter devil cowboy (monster slayer), a princess-mononoke-ish Artemis huntress (hunter), a HouYi type ancient hero with 3-legged crows (swarmkeeper), an Indiana jones style explorerer (horizon walker) and a borrower (beast master). I really love the idea of all of them being really different but all being excellent survivalists and navigators!

Im a big fan of rangers that have fighting styles other than archery too. I think archery is awesome for the fighting style, but having duelist (like the borrower) or dueling (monster hunter) gives it an extra bit of flavour to just "class that wields a bow". it also sets them apart from a fighter bc in my head a fighter is more military while a ranger is more solitary. It establishes them as a martial class for sure, but its so versatile and has that edge that comes with dex-based instead of str-based.

I particularly like monster slayer bc to me that was very like...witcher-y. The cowboy is a monster slayer with favoured foes as humanoids bc he only tracks humanoids (bounties), which is some fun flavouring. There's a lot of customization! To clarify, there's a lot of room for flavour, but not as much choice for character builds (like, mechanically, at least compared to stuff like warlocks.)

The addition of magic also helps give it some class distinction :0

TLDR: mixes the best aspects of rogues and fighters with LOTS of room for flavour text.

#love this ask tbh #rangers #dnd #dungeons and dragons #dnd5e

[curseoftheundeadraven]

Demons and Dandelions

Part 1? (sfw)

Summary: Cedar, a young witch living secluded in a forest which she protects, had been attempting to rebuild her life after a tumultuous two years. Yet, the chaos would continue as a demon, having escaped from his master, found his way into her woods.

(I accidentally made it longer than I had planned oops)

It was a familiar sight, me rummaging through the forest, especially during this time of year. But this time was unusual, as the sun had long set and the moon hung high in the night sky. I tended to forage during the day, but this was an exception. Sleep had been eluding me, as it did on occasion. I felt restless, a tense uneasiness surrounding me that had my stomach in knots. Once I finally accepted that no amount of meditation would be the answer to my problem, I reluctantly left the comfort of my bed. There was a specific mix of tea that often helped soothe me during nights like this, but as luck would have it I had ran out of fresh dandelions. I could use dried dandelion of course but for odd reason I felt as though I had to go out. With my shoulders slumped I fought through my weariness, donned a robe and cloak to keep me warm, and headed into the brisk chill of night.  Even through my drowsiness I knew precisely where I was bound to find dandelions, they flourished in my forest at this time of year. I walked near thoughtlessly – until my cloak caught on something causing me to slightly jerk back. I turned and to my surprise a fox held my cloak between its teeth. I knelt down towards him, reaching to see if he simply wished for me to pet him, but he shrunk.  He began to chatter quietly. 

“There is a strange creature nearby,” the fox warned. In this forest, I had many animals that aided me with my magic, and this fox was one of them. I tilted my head to the side. 

"What kind of strange?" I asked, curious and the slightest bit concerned.

“Hmm…bigger than you, much bigger. It has horns, – unlike that of a deer. Not human, not animal. It has a large mouth with sharp teeth, and it’s..."

"Alright, alright–" I interjected, trying to regain control of the conversation.

"–bleeding," the fox continued, undeterred. "It's bleeding, running, and hiding." The words twisted my stomach into a tight knot, a mix of concern and determination. The thought of something larger than me, wounded and fleeing, sent a shiver down my spine. Yet, in my forest, everything became my responsibility, even creatures that were neither human nor animal. I clenched my fist, feeling the weight of my duty pressing heavily on my shoulders.

"Oleander, come," I beckoned silently.

In an instant, my familiar emerged from my cottage, soaring towards my side. Among all the creatures that aided me, none held a deeper connection to me than Oleander. Perched on my shoulder, he took the form of a large black crow.

"There is a stranger here and they appear to be hiding from something," I whispered. "I need you to find out who or what that it is." Without hesitation, Oleander took flight, disappearing into the foliage to pursue whatever had entered my forest. I swiftly returned to my cottage, gathering a satchel filled with healing salves and potions, along with my spell book. My mind raced as I considered how else to prepare, which was difficult given that I had not the slightest clue of what I needed to prepare for…but if that unknown creature aimed to remain unseen, perhaps I should do the same.

Not long after I had finished casting a stealth spell I heard my familiar in my ear, or rather, in my head.

“Found something, look”. I took a breath before muttering the incantation, my eyes rolling back into my head. Everything went dark for a moment as I connected with him. Through Oleander’s eyes I witnessed the pursuit as he swiftly navigated through the night sky. Two colossal black hellhounds, their backs ablaze with purple fire, were charging through the forest, relentlessly hunting their prey. Which I assumed was that ‘strange creature’ – that was likely also a demon of some kind. The hounds were constantly stopping to smell and search in an attempt to find their target. 

My sight returned to my own eyes and I hurried down to my library, knowing it had to hold the answers I required. My mentor's expertise in dealing with demons was well-known, partially thanks to her penchant for creating substances that enticed them. It was clear that demons shared humanity's affinity for vices, if not indulged in them more. Luckily, her meticulous organization made finding the necessary book a swift task. Amongst the details on lesser demonic creatures, I discovered a page on hellhounds. It revealed that of the three most notable demon Lords or Ladies that utilized hellhounds, Issa'ri hunted humans for their transgressions, Zaga'tyl used hellhounds as warnings to her enemies, and Mea'not, depicted amidst a purple fire, was the master of demonic servants. Those who broke the Lords' laws or fell for his schemes became his pawns, lent to sorcerers, witches, and mages. Disobedience led to the merciless wrath of his hounds, and indescribable torture once returned. As the knot in my stomach tightened, I abruptly closed the book, a sense that I was about to make quite the foolish decision.

Heart pounding, I hurried across the basement and knelt, placing my hand on a specific stone brick. Recalling the incantation, the surrounding stones glowed and vanished, revealing a hidden compartment. Despite the foul scent, I kept these items, unsure of what else to do with them, as I was not keen on continuing my mentors business with demons. Three types of jars awaited me, their names etched into memory. Remembering their immense value but unsure of the specifics, I carefully wrapped three in a towel, more for my own safety than their preservation. Hopefully that would prove to be enough. The remaining two jars would serve as insurance for my sudden dive into dealing with demons.

Oleander, find the demon those hounds are after and then return to me.

As I ventured through the forest, tracing the path the fox had taken, I tried to recall my mentor's teachings about these beings. All I could remember was her warning:

If you show them that you are in any way weaker than them, they may devour you in an instant. No matter how flimsy your courage, act as though you are as solid as an oak tree. 

Her words did little to settle my growing unease. The sound of wings beating against the wind reached my ears, causing a lump to form in my throat.

“He has collapsed, this way” 

I followed my familiar with careful speed. We came to a small clearing where an old tree had been felled by a storm many moons ago.

“He hides there, on the other side”

I took in the deepest breath my lungs could bear before I carefully maneuvered around the tree. As I weaved through the vegetation on the outskirts of the clearing and climbed over its roots, I laid eyes upon him and froze—a demon unlike any I had encountered. Lanky and gaunt, his skin a mix of snow white and inky black, with the black extending from his limbs and forming freckle-like dots. His horns, four eyes, tongue, and even the inside of his mouth were all black. Struggling to breathe, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and one of his four arms bore a gruesome, gaping wound that oozed a dark red, far darker than human blood. As I attempted to inch closer, his nostrils flared, and I realized that my stealth spell had failed to account for scent. Yet, my spells rarely needed to counter the unique abilities possessed by demons. Raising his head, he scanned the surroundings, and a low rumble reverberated in the air.

"Run, human, or I will tear the flesh from your bones," he seethed in a twisted, gnarled voice, clearly attempting to instill terror. However, I remained unfazed. My gaze fixated on his wounds, and as I drew nearer, I noticed more. He hissed once again, and with caution, I emerged from the shadows, hands raised.

"We both know you couldn't even stand if you tried," I calmly stated. Anger contorted his face. He unhinged his jaw, nearly stretching his mouth from ear to ear. Undeterred and unafraid, my confidence wavered only when Oleander's piercing caw sliced through the air.

 I heard the pounding of paws on the dirt, my heart racing. The look on the demon's face revealed a deep-seated terror, beyond my comprehension. This, for some reason, added to my resolve. As the hounds approached, I positioned myself in front of the demon, drawing out my spell book. The hellhounds slowed their advance upon seeing me, growling and baring their teeth.

"Move, mortal, or meet a gruesome end," hissed one of the hounds, stalking forward.

"Stay back," I commanded, my voice unexpectedly resolute. I believe my ability to comprehend them took them by surprise for the briefest moment. But they continued to inch closer.

"I said - move," it roared, accompanied by a howl from the other. In that moment, I decided that if I were to die, I would face it without fear. And in that moment, I felt a renewed connection to my mentor. 

"No," I refused, tracing symbols in preparation within my spell book. Time seemed to slow as the first hound lunged at me. With a sharp exhale, I thrust my hand forward, unleashing a powerful gust of wind that knocked them back, sending the lunging hound crashing to the ground. They quickly rose, and the second hound spoke.

"You have no idea what you're doing," it rumbled. "That one belongs to Mea'not. He has escaped, and-"

"I will have him," I interjected adamantly, shocking the creatures into momentary silence before they erupted into shrill laughter. 

"With what, forest witch? Flowers?" one mocked, igniting a rage within me that surpassed anything I had felt before. Head held high, I took a step forward.

"What I possess in my purse is worth more than both your lives. Your master would surely skin you for it. So, I will make a pact with him. This demon will be mine," I boomed, though the words felt vile as they escaped my lips. I wished there were a less cruel way to accomplish my goal. The hounds glanced at each other before howling in unison, and smoke began to materialize nearby. The scent of sulfur hit me, causing a slight recoil, and I would be lying if I said it had nothing to do with my fear of facing Mea'not.

Fortunately, I did not. Emerging from the pillar of smoke was a small, at least by demon standards, demonic woman. Adorned in lavish attire, her skin possessed a deep blue hue speckled with gold, resembling lapis lazuli. A 'Sien, the only demonic lineage I was familiar with. She wore an expression of sheer boredom and regarded me with annoyance.

"My master does not appreciate having his time wasted," she drawled.

"Then I will make this quick – Marcia Nightshade, have you heard of her? Or rather, what she used to peddle?" I inquired, crossing my arms. I knew the answer, as that name was familiar to nearly every 'Sien and the other lower lines of demon nobility. Suddenly, the boredom disappeared from her face. She looked at me with skeptical interest. 

"I am her successor, and I hold some of her product in this bag," I stated, placing it on the ground and unwrapping the towel to reveal the jars. Her reaction confirmed it was more than sufficient. She smiled, though it failed to reach her eyes.

"This will afford you a demon far superior to him," she began.

"It's either him or nothing," I asserted, suddenly feeling empowered. Mockingly, she laughed and extended her hand, which I shook, sensing my energy being absorbed by hers before she released her grip. She gestured for me to look at him, and I obliged. His expression remained unreadable. The woman snapped her fingers, and a chain appeared around his neck.

"Must he wear that?" I asked, suddenly aware of how out of my element I was. She laughed again.

"Feel free to remove it, but know that it's the only thing preventing him from ripping your face off. Though, it won't do much more than that. You'll have to keep him in line yourself," she replied before turning to him. "And if you dare to flee again, know that we'll find you. And next time, there won't be a foolish little witch to save you." With a final disdainful gaze, she spat on the ground. Then, in an instantaneous moment, it felt as though an eternity had ended.

After the hellhounds were gone, dizziness overwhelmed me, draining my strength. I attempted to ground myself, focusing on my breathing, but a groan of pain brought me back into the present. Rushing to the demon's side, I retrieved supplies from my bag to tend to his injuries. As I reached to clean a wound, he gripped my wrist tightly.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

"I'm trying to clean the area so I can patch you up," I explained.

"No," he tightened his grip to make his point, "why did you make this pact?"

Sheepishly, I replied, "They were going to torture you, were they not? How could I stand by without helping? Let me tend to your wounds and then I will reverse the pact or find a way to release you..."

He lunged forward, his face close to mine.

"You are an idiot, a pathetic fool," he hissed. "I’m surprised you are competent enough to hold a spellbook. There is no releasing me. Once you let me go or perish, I will return to them. You're useless, as is this."

My heart sunk as I tried to maintain composure. I pulled my hand away from his grasp and resumed cleaning his wounds

"Are all demons such assholes?" I murmured.

He growled in response.

I stirred as the sun peeked through my curtains, and I attempted to shield my eyes from its light – immediately realizing I could not move them. I silently begged to the gods that this was not another bout of sleep paralysis. 

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes to find four unblinking, black eyes staring back into mine. The demon, who had refused to speak to me after last night's insulting encounter, hovered menacingly above me. His two arms held onto my wrists, while a scowl spread across his face, inching closer to mine.

"Tell me what this is," he demanded, his voice laced with attempted authority. I furrowed my brow. 

"What do you mean?" I asked, only serving to further agitate him. One of his two free hands grabbed my face, but his actions failed to elicit the desired effect.

"Is this his doing? Why would a witch as benign as yourself do such a thing if not at his request? If he is behind this, trying to trick me into a sense of calm only to break it away from me it will not work!" he barked, his frustration evident. 

“I-I have not a single clue as to what you are talking about!”

“Then what is this? What do you want?” He demanded. It was a valid question, one to which I had no immediate answer. The surprise of the situation left my mind scrambling to form coherent thoughts.

"This is rude, and I want you to let go of me. I told you before, I only wanted to help," I asserted while struggling against his grip. Feeling the sharpness of his claws against my skin, I seized the opportunity. Pushing my wrists forcefully against his claws, his hand jerked back. The collar that hung around his neck proved effective. With my hands now free, I traced sigils in the air, causing the ivy vines that adorned my room's walls to spring to life, entangling the demon's form. Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped out from underneath him. Fortunately, he didn't resist the encroaching vines, his eyes tracking my every move as I stood.

Drawing in a deep breath, I exhaled slowly, regaining some semblance of composure. I reached for my robe, as I typically slept in minimal attire. My body tensed, but I refused to let his theatrics sway me. Once I felt more composed, I raised my gaze to meet his piercing stare, releasing him from the ensnaring vines. He remained motionless, his gaze locked on mine.

"I can't fathom what you've been through, and I don't blame you for not trusting me. If you're trying to force me to reveal some hidden darkness within me, I hope you'll eventually realize that I am not what you assume. And if this is what it takes to earn your trust, then so be it— I will play this little game of yours," I concluded, my voice steady. He pulled back, tilting his head to the side, emitting a low, ominous chuckle.

"Alright, let’s play," he agreed, his tone sending a knot twisting in the pit of my stomach. He attempted to rise to his full height, but his horns met the ceiling, prompting a hiss of frustration. He intentionally began to change his form to fit within my human-sized dwelling, though he still loomed imposingly over me – no doubt it was purposeful. His appearance shifted into a more human-adjacent form, featuring long black hair and a smaller mouth, yet his sharp, demonic features remained—claws, horns, and menacing black teeth.

Living on my own, secluded in woods could be a lonely existence, despite occasional visitors. Especially given it was still new, this being my second year of living in this cottage and caring for the forest by myself. As a result, I often found myself feeling terribly isolated. While I had entertained the idea of having someone stay with me, I had always imagined it would be a mortal, someone from my own realm. I certainly hadn't expected a large, furious demon to be glaring at me from the corner of my kitchen as I attempted to prepare breakfast. He stood there, observing my every move, as I walked over to my small dining table and placed two plates of food. I hoped a decadent breakfast might help soften him up even just the slightest bit. He approached with a stalking gait, sniffing the air before scowling.

"Before you label me an idiot, allow me to state that I am fully aware that demons do not require food for survival. I am also aware that they do sometimes eat food purely for pleasure," I explained, meeting his cynical glare. He retreated back to the corner, and I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

"You're welcome to join me at the table, and we can discuss this situation like adults," I suggested, attempting to temper my frustration. He growled, a low rumble emanating from his corner. After a moment, however, he reluctantly made his way to the table and took a seat across from me. Clearing my throat, I forced a strained smile.

"My name is Cedar. What is yours?" I inquired. He scoffed after a prolonged pause.

"I have no name. They refer to us as Se'iva," he stated, lifting a pancake slightly off his plate, sniffing it, and placing it back down. He dipped his claw into a small puddle of syrup, recoiling slightly at the sticky texture. I did my best to suppress a chuckle and I failed miserably, earning a sneer from him. As if he desired to prove he was in fact not afraid of it, he licked the syrup off his finger with his long, formidable tongue. I inhaled sharply.

"Well, do you remember your previous name?" I asked genuinely, although it seemed to have offended him.

"Don't be dull. Of course, I do. My name was Ashir'ezel," he replied. The name felt foreign as it rolled off his tongue, as if centuries had passed since it was last spoken.

"Ashir'ezel," I repeated. He pulled back slightly, suggesting that indeed, it had been centuries. "I'm not familiar with that lineage. What do the Ezel typically do?" I inquired. Ignoring my question, he picked up a pancake, elevated it above his head, and proceeded to devour it whole, unhinging his jaw in the process. Though not particularly large, I regarded him with a perplexed gaze. "Are you trying to frighten me or show off?" I asked, observing the syrup dripping down his face. I sighed and attempted to offer him a napkin, which he stared at as if it were an insult before opting to lick the syrup away himself. Silence enveloped us as I continued to eat while he made an even greater mess. Lost in contemplation, I finished my breakfast, only to realize that my newfound "friend" had vanished.

"Ashir?" I called out, my voice echoing through the room. All that greeted me was a faint rumbling. With a sigh I began to look around. Then, in an instant, darkness enveloped my vision, suffocating my senses. I felt my heart pounding in my chest but I was determined not to succumb to any tricks. With a deep breath, I gathered my resolve and slowly rose to my feet, ready to confront whatever horrors awaited me.

As abruptly as the darkness had descended, my vision returned, revealing Ashir's contorted face mere inches from mine. A bone-chilling screech tore through the air, sending shivers down my spine. Time seemed to stand still as my heart nearly stopped. But, fueled by pure adrenaline, my instincts took over, overriding rational thought. Without a second's hesitation, my fist collided with the side of Ashir's face, a strike that sent him reeling backwards, likely more so from shock than pain, as I was nearly half his size. 

As the impact reverberated through the room, Ashir's twisted visage dissolved, and he returned to his previous form. My eyes widened in shock and remorse. "Gods, I am so sorry," I stammered, guilt washing over me. "I didn't intend to... Are you alright?"

He stared at me intensely, his expression showing more confusion than anger. I continued to babble incoherently, desperate to make amends. "I'm sorry, let me get..." But before I could finish my sentence, I turned around, only to find that Ashir had vanished into thin air. 

I saw no more of him that day, well, not directly. I’d see movement in the corner of the room or feel his hands briefly as he shoved me or grabbed me, though he was always gone when I turned. This continued on to the next day, and the days after that. 

Each day, I woke up with unease, and had to remind myself to embrace empathy and understanding. Ashir's torment would take various forms. Some days, objects would be moved or sent flying, and he would physically jolt or trip me, of course, without being able to cause harm. He often tried to scare me in tandem, shoving me into walls and screeching, making sure to restrain my arms lest we repeat the past. Phantom sensations and mysterious noises also plague me. When all of those methods failed to affect me, he would turn towards cruelty. His constant mockery cuts deep, but I persist in choosing kindness. And thankfully, none of his meddling had found its way into my dreams. Which didn’t surprise me all much as previously, long before Ashir arrived, I had covered my room in every kind of dream protection and nightmare prevention magic I could. So at the very least, I was able to face the day mostly well rested. And over time, I found ways to combat his actions. When objects would shatter, I would smile and say they can be replaced. I'd cast spells of deafness on myself to counter the repetitive, maddening sounds he would create. I’d feign ignorance when he'd grab me, as though he must need something or is confused which amusingly bewilders him. I respond to verbal berating with kind words about myself and even about him at times. I try to do nice things, like creating a larger bed for him. He had been sleeping – well I wasn’t  entirely sure if he slept in the way that humans do, but he had been staying in my guest bedroom, and the bed was even smaller than mine so I couldn’t imagine it being anything but trouble for him.

“I made you a bigger bed, I assumed it was incredibly uncomfortable to sleep in that small one,” I beamed as I rocked back and forth on my heels slightly, “do you like it?” I asked him. His new bed practically swallowed over half of the room. He reached out and tested its softness before pulling back and crossing his arms. 

“It’s just a bed, why would I care about such a thing?”

“Oh,” I feigned sadness, “alright, I’ll get rid of it”

“Well - it would be an idiotic waste of time and energy now, may as well leave it” he huffed. 

I’m not sure when I noticed he was finally beginning to soften, as it came in subtle, gradual ways. His insults softened and his torment became more benign as time went on. Once, he knocked a glass over that ended up slicing my hand particularly deep, and within an instant he was in front of me, pulling my hand towards him and examining it. He let go the second I winced in pain. 

“How did that...how do we fix it?” He asked, eyes jumping between mine and my injury. A smile began to grow on my face as I carefully applied pressure to the wound. 

“We?” I quipped and he snarled, walking away. 

He began to grow more curious as well, it seemed that his watchful gaze went from sly and conniving to perplexed or intrigued. Sometimes he would even ask questions, and on very rare occasions he would answer mine. Of course, the second I pointed out his curiosity I was insulted or mocked, but it was still progress. We even occasionally had something that almost resembled full conversations. 

“Your mentor, she worked with demons?”

“Well yes, but she worked with a great many kinds of beings”

“And you do not?” He asked. I cleared my throat. 

“No, not yet. I’m still…figuring it all out” I said without meeting his eyes. Things grew quiet for a moment.

“Did she…?” He trailed off and I gave the slightest nod before I retreated into myself. Silence took over, a common occurrence with us, but this time it felt different, more tense. For once, he was the one to break the silence. 

“The Ezel,” he began slowly and I perked up immediately, “are soul collectors” he stated. I was stunned at the sudden openness but feared he would shut down if I showed too much excitement.

“Like reapers?” I asked and he shook his head. 

“The purpose depends on your master, some are souls that are owed to other demons…” he explained until it was his turn to trail off. 

“And the others?”

“Are used for their energetic properties or simply to amuse the demon in control” he stated grimly. He didn’t remove his eyes from the food, which he was not eating, merely poking at it as silence returned. I didn’t want to push him any further than that. And I didn't need to, his desire to open up to me after I had done so with him said enough.

There were times that it seemed he had gone back to his original ways, some days he was kinder than others, but to me it didn’t matter much. Each small sign of growth was enough to keep myself steadfast in my methods. But as we made progress it seemed that my turmoil was not over, even though it would have nothing to do with Ashir. At first, I started to fall asleep later and wake up earlier, becoming restless, but I did my best to ignore it. Even though I had a sinking feeling of what truly was going on. And eventually I could no longer deny it. 

I was lying in my bed late into the night after the third, maybe fourth time I had been hurtled back into consciousness by a night terror that I could not shake off. I suddenly felt heavy, as if I were sinking downwards. I pulled my knees into my chest and began to embrace the tears that I had been desperately holding back. It had been so long without issue, I thought I was finally free from it all just to be dragged back into the depths of my sorrow. I could still hear my mentor's voice, see her face - or at least the distorted versions my dreams liked to show me. It all replayed over and over in my mind until -

Tears streamed down my face, my emotions spiraling into a breakdown. I curled up on my side, as though it would bring me some sense of solace. Lost in my despair, I registered the subtle dip of the bed and braced myself for Ashir's usual biting remarks or attempts to startle me. Surprisingly, he remained silent.

Curiosity eventually got the best of me, and I lifted my head to find him perched at the foot of my bed, his presence resembling that of a gargoyle. Normally, I would have found it amusing, but in that moment, my sorrow overshadowed any humor. When our gazes met, he broke the silence.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air. His tone was neither kind nor harsh, but blunt enough to throw me off balance. 

"H-huh?" I managed to stammer, caught off guard by his unexpected inquiry.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his tone still blunt and uncaring, yet somehow softer than I anticipated.

"What does it look like? I'm crying," I replied, my voice wavering, before dropping my head and shutting my eyes.

"Why?" he persisted, speaking in a flat tone.

"Why?" I repeated, my voice weak, "As if I'd tell you. You'd only use it against me," I said, my bitterness seeping through my voice. A heavy silence hung in the air, and I hoped it signaled his departure.

"Can... you stop?" he suddenly asked, his words surprising me. I raised my head, staring at him with a mix of confusion and growing upset. "...it annoys me," he added, as if it should have been obvious. His words only intensified my distress, and my tears continued to flow.

"C-clearly not!" I snapped, pulling myself upright and retreating to the safety of my headboard, my knees pressed tightly against my chest. I buried my face, my shoulders trembling with each sob.

"Why not?" He questioned, his tone oddly genuine. Frustration surged within me.

"Because I'm upset! Because I can't sleep! B-because every time I close my eyes, I relive the worst n-night of, muh, my—" My words dissolved into sobs, and a wave of relief and washed over me as Ashir's weight lifted from the bed.

That relief immediately faded as I felt his arms wrap around me, picking me up as though it was nothing. Too confused to offer any resistance I allowed him to carry me to the living room.  He settled me onto the couch, and then quietly retreated back into the hallway.

I slumped over, not having the energy to return to my room. I attempted to relax, but every time I closed my eyes, the vivid memories flooded back as if they had transpired just yesterday. At least I managed to cry quietly, hoping it would keep Ashir at bay. However, the sound of my kettle whistling startled me, and I started to fear my sanity was slipping away. Yet, in truth, I was too tired to care. And then I heard Ashir's heavy footsteps.

"Here," he mumbled, holding a cup of tea that appeared minuscule in his hands. Sniffling, I regarded him with as much confusion and suspicion I could in this state. He scoffed and placed the cup on the coffee table. I eyed it cautiously. He turned and settled on the floor a few feet away from me, his elongated limbs looking somewhat odd, watching me expectantly. With care, I reached for the cup and sniffed it, earning another scoff. It carried the scent of lavender, valerian, and dandelions.

"How did you know what to use?" I inquired.

"Watching you," he responded.

"Ah," I muttered, realizing the answer should have been obvious. I took a sip, confirming that it was the mix I typically brewed when sleep eluded me. He had added honey as well, though perhaps a bit too much. Embracing silence, I continued to sip the tea. Although I still trembled and my breathing remained unsteady, Ashir had succeeded in halting my tears, albeit mostly due to shock and confusion. Nevertheless, I was no longer crying.

"Why did you do this?" I asked after a while, hoping my suspicion was correct.

"To make you stop crying," he replied. I arched an eyebrow, "-I told you, it annoys me." He continued.

"You can teleport quite easily, can you not? Why not just do that?"

"I don't have to explain myself to you," he hissed, vanishing before my eyes.

Following that night, the problem persisted. I began waking up in tears or shouting during sleep more frequently. The amount of rest I managed to obtain dwindled, and I was fortunate to even get four hours in a night. Sometimes, I would lie in bed, too frightened to slip back into slumber, silently attempting to divert my attention to other matters. The aged wooden floor in my bedroom often betrayed his presence, emitting faint creaks that I wouldn't have noticed if I weren't so on edge. Over time, I grew more adept at sensing his proximity. It felt like stepping into the shade after basking in the sun, it almost chilled me. I couldn't fathom why he hadn't used my nightmares and distress to torment me, and ironically, I became somewhat paranoid, wondering if it was all an elaborate façade. I could  imagine how terrifying such a prospect would be and I gained a bit more empathy as a result. Regardless of whether his actions were genuine, on any night when I shed even a few minutes' worth of tears, a grumbling Ashir would present me with a cup of tea.

The lack of sleep began to wear on me. Everything hit a fever pitch when summer began to turn to fall. Ashir had nearly stopped his meddling and instead opted to lurk and watch, occasionally jeering at me or grabbing my arm or the back of my shirt. Honestly, I was too tired to really think about it especially as in my sleep deprived state I started to create chaos for myself, knocking over jars or mixing the wrong herb and ruining tinctures. Once such an occurrence as I kneeled on the ground collecting the petals I had spilled I heard an unexpected sound, a musical bird call that caused me to freeze as I immediately recognized the tune. When the bird called for me again I knew there was no use stalling and I rose. A medium sized bird had landed on one of my windows. She was a shimmering gold and carried a strong magical aura. When I hesitated she called again. 

“Ki’ara, be patient with me, please” I asked as I approached, dusting off my hands. She had dropped a scroll with a blue and gold wax seal that I had seen many times before. Oleander came in through a nearby window and began to chatter with Ki’ara as I grabbed the scroll. Though it was nothing but paper, ink, and wax it felt heavy, as if it were pulling me downwards. 

“Thank you Ki’ara, send Miera my regard” I mumbled as I struggled to ground myself in reality. I don’t know when she left, I had their conversation tuned out almost immediately. My mind felt like it was drifting away from reality, until abruptly, the scroll was ripped out of my grasp. I didn't make an effort to hold onto it, but I was jolted back into consciousness, and the landing was far from pleasant. Ashir, with his eyes wide and chest heaving rapidly, stood before me. His other hands were clenched so tightly into fists that they trembled. 

“Ashir pl-“ I began, but he cut me off. 

“I knew it-“ he interjected harshly. I felt my stomach drop as I heard his voice and the anger held within it. 

“Gods just let me exp-“ I begged, trying to regain control of the situation. 

“I knew it, I knew this couldn’t be. So what is it? Is it finally time to spring your trap?” He asked as he crushed the letter in his fist. 

“No,” I said sternly before taking a shaky breath, “It’s- I, it’s nothing! Nothing that concerns you, anyway. Just-“

In one swift movement, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and yanked me forward. He grew so close I could feel his breath and hear his chest rumbling. 

“I can feel the demonic magic radiating from this scroll…who else could it be? Tell me, what was the price?” he hissed quietly, voice full of venom. 

“There isn-“ I attempted to speak before he continued on. 

“What is it in for you? How much did it cost for you to muddy your hands and do the work of a cretin like him? Unless, you have always been corrupt and twisted…” he paused and looked away for a moment, “was this all just an act? Was your kindness secretly just a knife you were readying to stab in my back? I was right, you are pathetic” seethed. My throat felt tight, constricted as I tried to hold on to my composure amidst his onslaught of harsh words. 

“It’s not about you-“ I protested, but it was no used, he finally erupted. 

"LIAR!" he roared, his face a mere two inches from mine. His fears and emotions surged like a volcano, red-hot anger ready to consume everything in its path. My own emotions began to take the form of distant whispers of an approaching tempest, rapidly overtaking the horizon. I felt fear, sorrow, and red-hot anger all wash over me at once. I felt my eyes watering, my ears ringing, but I grit my teeth and tried to steel myself.

"Fine," I began in a cold voice, a single tear slipping down my cheek. "Read the letter. In fact, keep it," my voice grew sharper, mirroring the storm brewing inside my mind. It swelled, threatening to consume me. I tried to stop there, I did but it all just came rushing out, "I hope this brings you satisfaction, you’ve finally pushed me to my breaking point because I... I no longer care. Not about the letter, and certainly not about you." I felt everything swirling up inside of my mind and I couldn’t make sense of it. Exhaustion, anger, hurt. I couldn’t tell them apart, all I knew was that I couldn’t take anymore of it, “Let that letter serve as a reminder that you are a paranoid, hard headed, heartless asshole!” My words crackled like thunder, and the tempest was unleashed.

In a burst of anger, I grabbed his wrist, my gaze piercing him like daggers. Fortunately, he relented and released his grip. Unable to contain my tears any longer, I pivoted and rushed out of the front door, storm clouds following close behind. 

I only got about 20 steps away before the words I had said hit me. I hesitated briefly before forcing myself to continue on. Tears blurred my vision as I walked. The first fallen leaves of autumn crunched beneath my feet, and the birds fell quiet as I passed, something that had only happened a couple times. Despite my familiarity with the forest, I simply marched forward, not caring about my destination. I quickened my pace and didn’t rest until the tears had stopped.

I arrived at one of the many brooks that ran through the area and decided to take a break. The sky was painting itself in hues of pink and orange as the run began its rest behind the horizon. A bittersweet chuckle escaped my lips as I realized I had arrived at a grand oak tree with robust branches. Running my hand along its bark, I gazed upward, attempting to glimpse through the foliage. I gently wiped my cheeks and took a deep breath, uncertain whether it would bring solace or further turmoil, but I began to climb nonetheless. My destination remained obscured, yet the memory of what path to take was etched in my mind. Eventually, I caught sight of the wooden planks composing the floor, guiding me toward the door. The rope ladder, once the gateway to my cherished treehouse, had long since worn away, and I had never bothered to replace it, then and even now I didn’t need it. Surprisingly, it had held up the test of time and hardly looked any worse for wear. A faint smile grew on my face as I reminisced about its former glory during my childhood, now realizing it was quite small and humble. Nonetheless, it still accommodated me decently enough, I only had to crouch slightly to stand upright. Before long, as the nostalgia faded. I sprawled out on the floor, my mind continuing its downpour.

I didn't sleep well, although it was the most restful night I had experienced in quite some time. Instead of planning to sleep in my old treehouse, I decided to tidy it up a bit. I worked late into the night, and at some point during or after my efforts, exhaustion overcame me, and I drifted off. Nightmares plagued my sleep as always, but I roused only once. The creaking of tree branches outside caught my attention, yet the gentle rustling of leaves and the soft patter of raindrops convinced me that it was merely the wind. I awoke before dawn, lying there in quiet contemplation, thinking about all that had happened. 

I had said terrible things, thing I did not mean and wish I could take back. But Ashir, I could still see the hate and sorrow in his eyes, and feared there may be no overcoming this. My gut formed a knot when I considered what the letter contain precisely. I anticipated Miera’Sien was attempting to provide solace, as she had the year before. After what had occurred I could understand her being concerned for me. But, I didn’t think I needed her, I thought after two years my grief must have somehow lessened but that seemingly was not in the cards. The scroll itself was large, unsurprisingly, as Miera had an unending reservoir of things to say, all of which came in her descriptive, nearly dramatic prose. So it is likely Ashir would finally have some grasp of why nightmares plague me so. I couldn’t begin to decide how I felt about that. 

And of course, there was the matter of explaining why exactly Lady Miera’Sien was sending me letters regarding the death of my mentor, which I wasn’t sure he would believe. 

I tried to push all of that away and focus on what to do. And there wasn’t much else to do besides apologize but I didn’t know how he would feel about me when I returned, - to be fair I hardly had the faintest idea what he had felt about me before all of this. 

As the sun just barely began to rise I made my way back through the now very muddy terrain, which took me a bit by surprise as I hadn’t realized it had rained so heavily. When I reached the door I took time to ground myself before opening it cautiously. 

“Ashir?”

My call earned no response. . 

“Oleander?” I ask and thankfully I heard his caw clear as day, “where is Ashir?” I ask as I closed the door behind me and began to take off my muddy shoes

“I haven’t seen him”. He said, flying into the room and perching. I let out a sigh. After setting aside my shoes I looked to the kitchen where the ordeal had happened and saw the letter lying on the counter. As I walked closer I observed that it was somewhat crumpled and more importantly — it had been opened. I tried to shake it off, deciding I should take care of my current state before reading it. And besides, I still had a mess to clean up. As I walked around the island of my kitchen I saw that all of the small petals I had accidentally scattered across the ground were gone and I found them in their original basket. 

The day stretched on slowly, my body and mind still exhausted. Though Ashir was nowhere to be found I refrained from attempting to find him. If he did not want to be in my presence, I could understand. I myself have mixed feelings about being in his. Once the sun had set, I felt uneasy as he was typically most active at these hours. I continued to repress my anxiety and try to proceed as normal. Of course, I slept terribly. I would wake up over and over again in a short burst of time, my mind never able to delve into restful sleep. Into the very early morning however, I finally succeeded and slept as well as I could. As I put on my robe and begin to head towards the kitchen I call out to Ashir. I was only met with silence. Upon entering the kitchen however I spied something odd. A basket sat on the counter and it would not be far-fetched to think I had simply forgotten to put it away in my current state. As I moved to pick it up however I realized it had been filled with fresh dandelions, still lightly shimmering from the morning dew. 

“Ashir?” I called out again, even though I knew I would get no response. 

These gifts continued randomly appearing for several days, first dandelions, then mushrooms, and so on. But I never got a single glance of Ashir. Though the small gestures were kind, I found myself missing his presence during difficult nights. 

Nearly two weeks later, I nestled myself into the plush pillows of my couch and pulled my blanket tighter around me. My eyes were red and puffy as this was the third time that night I had been awoken. Nothing was helping so I resigned to simply making myself comfortable and trying to find any semblance of calm. The first time I was startled awake by the loud and sudden cracking of thunder accompanied by the sounds of raindrops pounding against the roof of my cottage. As I lay on the couch it continued on, loud enough that even the wind joined the chorus, howling in between cracks of thunder. Each time, I did not jump as the thunder scared me not. At least not now. I began to focus on the sounds of incoming rain until — I heard the sound of ceramic meeting wood, my head snapping up immediately. And there he stood, head bowed and hands pulled close to himself. A cup of tea sat on the small table in front of me. Mere seconds after I processed who was standing before me - just as our eyes met, tears began to roll down my face, blurring my vision, as I began to quietly sob. Startled, he instinctively retreated, but I reached out and took hold of his hand, silently begging him to stay.

Slowly, cautiously, he inched closer, eventually settling beside me on the couch. His towering presence made me feel impossibly small. I never let go of his hand. For some time all that echoed off the wall of my cottage was the soft sound of my cries and the distant roaring of the storm. 

“I’m sorry,” he said so quietly I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear it. I adamantly shook my head

“No, no. The blame is mine, I could have, I-I shouldn’t have-“ I began before I was interrupted by his hand on my chin. He turned my head and studied my face before shaking his head.

“It’s a wonder you cannot see why I would think someone such as you, as kind and forgiving as you, can simply not exist,” he said quietly before removing his hand from my face and turning away. I carefully wiped some of my tears away as I felt heat rising to my cheeks. The sound of rain and my constant sniffling filled the room. He never let go of my hand, but for a while, he was as still as a statue. “You should have tossed me aside the second you got a chance,” he began, his voice displaying a weakness I did not know it could have, “you had suffered enough, I am sure…” he trailed off and I shook my head again. 

“That doesn’t matter-“

“It does,” he retorted, his voice a bit louder, “if I hadn’t been here you wouldn’t be plagued with all of these-“ he started before it was my turn to interject. 

“No. It has nothing to do with you…” I said before trailing off momentarily, “It has happened before –“ my voice cracked as I felt emotions stirring up inside of me once again, “…I’m just not strong enough” I sputtered as tears returned. 

“Don’t be so dull,” he whispered as with hesitant tenderness, he reached out, wrapping one hand around my back, another lifting my legs as he pulled me into his embrace. He held me delicately so that I could easily push him away or escape had I desired to, which is something he seemed to be anticipating. Instead, the second I was in his embrace, I clung to his shirt, my tears soaking into the fabric as continued to cry. His form remained rigid, each movement stiff and cautious. It was evident that he was unaccustomed to such displays of affection, yet he tried earnestly to offer solace. As I attempted to calm myself, I faintly discerned the steady beating of his heart. It was a deep, low pounding that held little resemblance to a human’s. Its slow, resounding cadence became my anchor, helping to ease my distress. He remained silent, gently rubbing my back and tracing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. We spoke no more, we simply basked in the sounds of the ongoing storm. As the tears gradually subsided and my sobs waned I did my best to take measured, deep breaths. With each exhale, the tension in my body seems to lessen, my shoulders sinking slightly as my muscles relaxed. A sense of fatigue lingered, both in my body and my mind, as everything began to take its toll. My eyelids grew heavy, and eventually, I allowed myself to drift off into slumber. 

#monster story #monster fic #monster stories #monster romance #monster lover #monster x human #monster boyfriend #demon x human #fantasy #short story

[crowboss-whore]

Navigation + Rules 🪶

❏. intro -

Hello! Please read this post before adventuring any further <3

❏. about -

My name is Crow. As stated in my quick bio right beneath my profile picture, I go by they/them and I'm 19! I'm deep within the AroAce spectrum but the ones I closely identify with are Demiromantic and Asexual! I go by Pacific Standard Time (PST)! Some might know it better as UTC - 8, however.

I am a college student! So please refrain from spamming me unless I consider you my mutual!

Hello! This is also a sideblog! Tumblr is too pussy to let sideblogs engage in interactions, so if you see someone by the name @uwak-uwak-uwak-uwak that would be my main! Tumblr :) Let me interact with people as my sideblog you pussy fucks <3

❏. rules -

Please don’t harass me about updates on fanfics. I have stuff outside of tumblr and outside of writing. It’s okay if you’re politely asking but don’t pester me about it.

Please use tone tags. I struggle with reading tones over messages. While I am not quick to temper, I still would appreciate them and I'm sure many others would too.

Do not, and I repeat, do not bring controversial topics up in my ask box. I cannot handle that stress! So religion, politics, or my outlook on certain things. I cannot handle the stress that comes with that so I ask for you to refrain from asking. My blog is existing because it's where I can escape from that stuff. This is a fun and nifty place! So do not ruin that for me.

Hate will be deleted. I see no point in harboring it whatsoever. If you have an issue with me, talk to me about it in a civil manner. I'm a person, not a robot. Don't be a dick.

This is a safe space! I don't tolerate bullshit that hurts people. This correlates to the one above; this is a safe space for the LGTBQ+ community. Do not ruin that. I will personally out you if you do! And if you do it on anon, I will point and laugh because there is no reason for you to be an asshole to another person who simply is being a heart.

NSFW is okay— to some extent. If it’s out there out there, I won’t touch it lmao. But sex jokes are funny and I’m okay if you come into my asks and go “I want [character] to throw me over their shoulder and…” yeah yeah. I’m pretty lax with NSFW stuff— sexual or gore— because 1) sex things are kinda funny to me and 2) I love gore.

DO NOT come into DMs if I do not consider you a mutual. I can promise you that you'll know if I consider you a mutual or not.

Do not ask for my discord, that is uncomfortable.

Do not repost my art anywhere. That is final. I only post my art here, on my Instagram and Tiktok, Screeching_Crow_, and on Twitter, Screeching_Crow. I don't use my twitter as much, it's only there so people don't impersonate me. If you repost it elsewhere, I am coming for you. Lock your fucking doors.

Add warnings if you're sending in a drabble or a headcanons or if you're sending in brain-rot and there are themes that should be warned. I do not care if you don't find it triggering. Some people do.

If we’re not mutuals, please refrain from calling me pet names. “Love” and “Dear” are alright! But anything else it makes me uncomfortable.

❏. DNI (do not interact) -

basic dni material (p*dophiles, racist, transphobic, etc.)

those who invalidate triggers

romanticize any form of mental illnesses

proshippers

❏. anons -

🐦 anon, 🪞 anon, abyssal anon, 💮 anon, 🦝 anon, 🏹 anon, 🦈 anon, 🦴 anon, 🐈‍⬛ anon, 🐶 anon, 🔆 anon, 🥔 anon

❏. navigation tags -

A Seer of Secrets - A collection of all Seer of Secrets content

A Seer of Secrets Art - All art connected to ASOS. Fanart, my art, submitted art. All art.

A Seer of Secrets Update - Find all of the chapters here for easier access to whichever one you want!

Thank You! :D

#Intro post #intro page #Crow Talks ࿓ #Crow Caws ❤︎ ༄

[queeniesrose]

Welcome everyone to my palace! I am Queenie. You can call me that or Rosie, I will respond to both (She/Her). This is my main blog, where I will be writing for several fandoms. Middle Earth and Pokémon have already graced me with their presence, here at the palace. Soon Six of Crows, Twilight, and some other unknown guests will make their way here. 

Please make yourself feel at home. Guides are never far to help you navigate your way around the palace. All rooms will be marked with SFW or NSFW. If you are not of age, please steer clear of all the NSFW rooms. 

Modern Middle Earth AU Information | Six of Crows AU Information

While this is not a request blog specifically, my inbox is open for conversation or suggestions. I WILL take the odd request if I get one in and feel like I can comfortably write it. If you do decide to request something specific for me to write, please take a look at this post.

The majority of my posts will be written as gender neutral. All pronouns will be They/Them.  When writing smut, I tend to lean towards writing for AFAB, as that is what I know best and most comfortable writing. I will write BOTH AFAB and AMAB upon request. 

I do have a master list for each fandom, which are linked below. It will be updated with links every time a post goes live. Sometimes, you will be able to see what kind of content will be posted ahead of time. Each library has sections for each of the characters I write for often. Any characters that are written, but not often will be found under a section called "Other"

Curious why some of my posts are labeled as a Modern Character? Check out this post and see what it’s all about!

Want to know more about my Six of Crows AU and see what I have changed? Check out this post to find out more!

Middle Earth Library

Pokemon Library

Six of Crows Library

Twilight Library

For almost all major holidays, I will be doing a holiday special with characters from a set group of characters, which I will call, The Royal Family. I will be doing a max of 10 characters for each holiday. While I would LOVE to include holidays of different religions, I will not be writing about holidays I am not very familiar with. I don’t want to disrespect any religion/way of life by writing something that won’t be factually correct or would be insensitive. 

The major holidays that I will be including are: New Years | Easter | Thanksgiving | Christmas

Holidays that I might include are: Valentines Day | St. Patrick’s Day | April Fool’s Day

The Royal Family: Thranduil | Legolas | Haldir | Aragorn | Thorin | Fili | Kili | Bard | Rika | Leon | Raihan | Milo | Larry | Sycamore | Kaz Brekker | Nikolai Lantsov | Emmett Cullen 

Things I will write:

Fluff: Want to see something cutesy that I haven’t written? Send it in!

Smut: I will not shy away from writing smut. Although, I will say I am still working on becoming better at this. 

Platonic: Don’t want romance to be the driving point of the relationship? Ask for a scenario and there's a chance you shall receive!

Kinks: I will write about kinks. There are some that I will not write, which are listed below. If it’s not on my “Will not write list”, there is a chance I will write it. 

There is some stuff that I absolutely will not write.

Underaged Characters: Depending on the fandom, I will not write NSFW or romance for any character that is canonically underage. Pokemon, specifically, is one that I will not age up or write NSFW/romance for.

Specific Kinks: Noncon/Dubcon, DDLG, Scat, Piss, Feet related, Master/Servant, Hardcore Kink Lifestyle.

The only exception to Dubcon is Somnophilia. I am willing to write about Somno in certain situations. 

Mental Health Issues and Disabilities: I do not have experience with having any mental health related issues or any disabilities. I will not be able to accurately represent them nor do I want to trigger anyone if I can help it. Suicide, Self-harm, Rape, eating disorders, will never be mentioned in any of my posts. 

Pet play: I will not be writing anything that is related to pet play. So no collars, tails, ears, cages, acting like an actual pet, etc. It doesn't matter what 'animal' you are into being, I will not write it. This 100% includes pokemon. I will not write anything where a human is in relations with an actual pokemon or relations between two pokemon.

If you want to suggest or request something, check out this post to see how to format!

Please be kind to others as you interact in my palace. While those who are under the age of 18 are welcomed to enter the Safe for Work sections of the libraries, please remember that this blog is primarily for the 18 and older. 

Newer NSFW books will have warning labels as to some things it contains. If the contents is not your cup of tea, don’t read it. 

I do have some custom hashtags that I will be using on posts. If there are any you don’t want to see come up in your feed, you can block them.

Queenie Speaks: This will be attached to any non writing related posts. So, it will be attached to all of the responses to asks and random posts.

Rosie's Royal Announcement: Any major announcements I have will have this tag. This will include any changes I make to the blog, future plans for posts, etc.

Chaos Queen: This will be on any post where I am being chaotic.

Spicy Queenie: This will be on all of my NSFW works. If you don't want to see NSFW, block this tag. 

Queenie's Modern Middle Earth: This tag will be for all of my Modern AU posts.

Queenie’s Six of Crows: This tag will be on all of my Six of Crows posts

Queenie’s Twilight: Any and all Twilight posts I do will have this tag attached to it.

#queenie's master list #queenie speaks

[foxsoulcourt]

15 questions

(or the time I almost pasted a comment intended for Hunting, @roseforthethorns + Only_1_Truth's recent spicy 🌶🌶🌶 JB/Q/AT werewolf au instead of the questions to answer 👀😂)

Ty @bishybarnaby + @macontheweb for asking me to play! 💜

1. Are you named after anyone? Kind of. My mama's best friend's name was Laurie + she like the sound of it so she came up w/something similar. (Grateful my dad ix-nayed the Two Grandmother's Name idea because Patience Josephine is a l o t for one small human to shoulder.)

2. When was the last time you cried? Two nights ago during a rewatch of Madam Secretary s05 e16 The New Normal about climate change-related migrations. Before that got weepy while listening to a friend explain the complicated surgery + recovery protocol she's navigating.

3. Do you have kids? Yep, two 24 y.o. born 5 minutes apart. Very different in almost every way, currently living in two different states. Each are DeLiGhTfuL humans which makes being family a lot of fun. ~ Interestingly, this almost wasn't my story. I'm deeply grateful neither of my parents pushed marriage or kids onto my ideas for the future. I grew up knowing neither choice is for everyone, nor an indicator of a rich, full life, and well into my twenties I was utterly convinced neither were for me. ~ As life unfolded I did a shit-ton of therapy, decided to stick around this place + then later on met my person. We're well-matched in many great ways, so when things shifted inside both of us, our two came into the world. We intentionally raised + launched them aligned with our quirky values + interests which turned out to be a trickier design challenge than I anticipated. Worthy though! But, ummm, I'm STILL kinda tired, so if you choose to do the kid thing, please get more sleep than I did while you do it. Your future self will be grateful. Plus if you have ovaries, menopause is a w a y easier journey if you've been getting enough sleep beforehand. #adrenal fatigue is real

4. Do you use sarcasm? Occasionally I hint at it, but no. It makes me emotionally + physically squirm.

5. What is the first thing you notice about people? Hmmmm, intuitively I pick up how emotionally safe they are, both within themselves + how they're likely to interact with others. Next I notice what draws their eyes. Then I get curious about what they choose to wear + why. Sometimes it's the exact opposite sequence.

6. What is your eye color? Green

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Ha! Happy endings!!! CanNOT watch anything remotely scary.

8. Any special talents? After years + years of wondering WTAF, I realised I'm the human equivalent of a portable sanctuary. Not always (that would be aNnOyiNg for all involved!), but often there's something about how I listen + interact w/people that makes them feel safe enough to share something about themselves, an insight, or chitchat about A Real Thing. It happens literally a n y w h e r e. Yesterday it was w/a guy in the grocery store check out line.

9. Where were you born? Within a mile of a small beach in a formerly sleepy southern Californian town, USA; moved to the PNW when I was 12. West coast gal all the way.

10. What are your hobbies? Chopping vegetables while listening to old school jazz, reading, dinking around in the garden, going for walks to look at other people's gardens, evolving as a human being, making Mr FSC laugh so his eyes crinkle. Vague itch to pick up some sort of fabric art activities in 2023.

11. Do you have any pets? After the heart-break of nursing first one + then a second older man cat to the other side (see below), I've become an avid backyard bird watcher. This includes staring out the window at LoTs of little brown birds + talking to the neighbourhood crows.

12. What sports do you play/have you played? All my life I've been physically active, almost always outside the bounds of defined sports. In high school I swam + played on the badminton team and both were a total gas, but that was because we were a team of weirdos doing something fun together. Swimming, bike riding, hiking, sailing, skiing, dancing, walking - all of it - is for the joy of feeling my body in motion. I am so f*%ing grateful to my parents for leading by example in this way which, thankfully, I seem to have passed onto both of our kids.

13. How tall are you? 5′6" / 167 cm

14. Favorite subject in school? All of them. Seriously. I loved learning about the natural world which opened up into all.of.the.sciences. Loved learning mathematics even when it was moderately hard; stopped when it got really hard. Adored reading + writing, and then writing about what I read. Liked art + cooking + sewing (which was still taught at the time). Took Spanish + then went to Latin America to speak it. Enjoyed learning how to speak persuasively, up in front of other people. Reading this over I started laughing because it makes sense of my Uni experience! Spent a few years on a journey through most of these topics before I narrowed it down to History of Science. Which still covers almost all of them PLUS included the study of people + institutions! Grad school was focused on leadership development + how to navigate organisational change, which meant picking up organisational psychology to add into the mix.

15. Dream job? Having had s e v e r a l already + being in the 3rd act of life w/the need to make a bit more money, this is a f a s c i n a t i n g, topical + tender question. I've loved what I've done: waited tables; collaboratively created a customer service + accounting dept within a successful dot com start up within a major retailer; lay minister with teens in a queer positive church; parent; organisational change consultant. B u T, I've also experienced mental + physical exhaustion 3x. The last episode has been particularly challenging to recover from, so the question at hand is how to be moderate. I hear it's possible + have seen others achieve this goal. Recently started back up w/therapy to figure why it's been challenging for me thus far. Dream of dreams? Consultant designing + facilitating important conversations w/in organisations navigating changes in leadership styles between The Old Way + what's evolving. I'm pretty skilled at inter-generational dynamics which is a deal these days. Goal is to get paid handsomely enough for doing it part time. Stretch goal? Flesh out some scribbled notes pinned on the bulletin board >> write a couple of small square books about organisational change + Generation Flux + sTuFf.

Who else wants to play? If you're interested, @fuzzballsheltiepants, @pomponiaia, @christinefromsherwood, @anyawen, @merceyca, @leahlisabeth, @youreyestheyglow. I'm guessing any one of you will do this in 50% fewer words. 😉 Carrying forward bishy's caveat: this one is long and also personal, so feel free to nope out if you'd rather not!

Here are sweet Oscar + Mr Bingley, may they continue to rest in peace while nourishing the garden.

#15 questions #get to know me #thanks for the tag! #mac thx for idea of including cat pic! #personal #it surprised me how moving it was to answer these questions #realised once again i'm grateful my parents did the best they could with what they had #and that we've been able to do the same for our two kids #kinda shocked to realise i DID like all my classes #didn't realise that until typing this out #did i mention sleep is important #so important

[cyberpunkonline]

Neon Nature: Unraveling the Wild Side of a Cyberpunk World

Introduction:

Amidst skyscrapers kissing the heavens and neon signs painting tales of modern decadence, a peculiar breed of wildlife takes form. From shadowy urban alleyways to the vast wastelands skirting the city, the fusion of biology and technology has birthed creatures of unimaginable design. Merging inspirations from various cyberpunk legends, let’s delve deeper into the vibrant, and sometimes treacherous, ecosystem of our digital future. Prepare for a journey unlike any other, darling.

Urban Jungle Beasts:

Bioluminescent Pigeons and Neon Crows: Channeling Blade Runner vibes, these genetically modified birds adorn the sky. Emitting ethereal glows, they don't just beautify the skyline but actively purify the polluted atmosphere, making them the eco-warriors of the future metropolis.

Cyber Rats, Roaches, and Silver Sparrows: Delving deeper into the world of Neuromancer, pests aren’t what they used to be. Cyber Rats, with enhanced cognition, often scavenge valuable tech. Roaches, armored with silicon exoskeletons, become near-indestructible. The Silver Sparrows, with their metallic plumage, act as organic relay stations, bouncing off data signals.

Robo-Pets, Drone Snakes, and Mech-Cats: From the realms of AI: Artificial Intelligence and Ghost in the Shell, synthetic life forms have never been so diverse. While Robo-Pets offer companionship, Drone Snakes stealthily navigate the urban maze, collecting information. Mech-Cats, with their sleek chrome bodies, prowl the alleyways, moonlighting as security for high-end establishments.

Marauders of the Techno Wastelands:

Tech-enhanced Wolves, Augmented Jaguars, and Cyber Lynxes: Drawing from the gritty world of Cyberpunk 2077, predatory evolution has reached new heights. Wolves with augmented agility stalk their prey, Jaguars with adaptive camouflage seamlessly blend into their surroundings, and Lynxes, with razor-sharp retractable metal claws, are a force to be reckoned with.

Nano Swarms, Digital Bees, and Holo-Butterflies: The insect kingdom in Deus Ex has gone digital. Nano Swarms are more than pests, they're espionage experts. Digital Bees don’t just pollinate, they transmit data, acting as organic internet hubs. Holo-Butterflies, with their mesmerizing light displays, often serve as ambient mood enhancers in wasteland oases.

Mutated Ferns, Metallic Flora, and Plasma Vines: Stepping into the rich botany of Altered Carbon, plants have become both protectors and predators. Mutated Ferns detoxify the barren soil, Metallic Flora with their lustrous surfaces trap and digest unsuspecting critters, while Plasma Vines, glowing with bioluminescent energy, act as natural power sources.

Conclusion:

Nature's dance with technology has crafted a world where the line between the organic and artificial is not just blurred but intertwined. This neon-lit tapestry of life is as alluring as it is perilous. For those brave enough to traverse this cybernetic ecosystem, remember, beauty often hides beasts.

- Raz

#cyberpunk #beasts #monsters #wildlife

[whitherliliesbloom]

light the way to a new horizon

[ ffxivwrite2022 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ #01 - cross ]

[ illya & the wandering equinox ] ★ [ 2,112 words ]  ★ [ pirate au ]

in spite of the clap of thunder and the battering rain, the captain watched as the girl stood undaunted as a beacon of light, determined to guide their ship starward to succor

It’s the billowing of the wind that causes stiff bumps to rise from the surface of Kaye’s skin, ice cold still from the relentless downpour of the rain. He can barely see past the constant droplets that trickle down his lashes and into his eyes of navy blue, tempted to set his tricorn hat back atop his head to shield his drenched face from the increasingly grating pitter patter sensation. 

But he decides against it, reminded that it would not do to lost the symbol of his status as captain of the Noctilux when he casts his gaze portside towards the girl whom he’s not seen de-hatted since she was but a naive, blinkered child. 

She must have lost her hat to the seas, poor thing, Kaye thinks to himself. She’d been standing so close to the edge, twilight eyes cast out upon the horizon for so long it’d be an even bigger surprise had her feathered hat stayed upon her head. Without it, she appears a fair bit more rugged than usual, and the man pities the way her silken veil of pure white hair was being caught in the violent winds, curls tangled further by slick and salt.

But it suits her, he admits in silence as he folds his arms across his chest - the sight of the champion of guidance standing steadfast against the storm, it’s comforting as it is breathtaking.

The deafening crack of yet another thunder that follows after a flash of blinding light from the heavens, snaps him out of his thought for a moment long enough for him to wallow in regret - pitiable and oh so dumb as the thought is. 

Nobody sane would’ve earlier believed it when the chief navigator came sauntering onto deck, expression worried and wary as she explained her ‘premonition’ that something bad was going to happen soon.... all supported only by the fact that her pet hawk, who was never at all cooperative towards anyone except his owner anyway, was getting agitated and refused to eat his feed of freshly caught tropical fish. 

Nobody sane, of course, excluded Mint... who was perhaps the only person among the crew who believed her close mate, though even she could do little than to yell down from her post in the crow’s nest at the crew to not bully young Illya or make fun of her for her words.

And yet here they are now, caught in the midst of a horrid storm - the worst he’s seen since the battle upon the thavnairian sea... With little to no hope of nature’s fury calming down in their immediate future. 

It’s a painful, bitter reminder of the cost of freedom - of the dangers of being a pirate such as they. 

Kaye hears a set of footsteps thumping up the stairs, and turns his head towards the group of men as they bolt up towards him. 

“Cannons secured, captain! We’ve also tied all chests and loose furniture below deck down!” 

“Right.” A grunt sounds out in acknowledgement, and he gives a brief pause to think before turning his gaze back to the men. “How ‘bout the armory then?”

“The.... the armory, captain?”

“Our swords and guns, ye dumb bilge rats. Do ye want to lose all our weapons?” 

“N-no captain! ‘C-course not! We’ll bet to em’ right away, sir!”

With a turn and a trip, the group excuses themselves from his presence as quickly as they had came, and Kaye has to hold back a rumbling sigh when one among them loses his balance at the rocking of the boat and almost falls head first down the wooden stairs. 

Helpless - the lot of them... He laments, but not as harshly as he laments himself. The burden of responsibility for putting them in such a precarious situation in the first place falls to him as captain, after all... and so he’s taken to bearing the duty of organizing the efforts of the entire crew to combat the storm for as long as it torments them, from ordering Mint’s group consisting of deckhands to secure the extra sails and watch the masts to entrusting the steering of the ship to Lily after their coxswain fell ill and had to retreat to the infirmary, where assistant medic Nami was stationed.

The biggest responsibility of all however, fell to their chief navigator, the starling of the Wandering Equinox and perhaps also their youngest crewmate, who has stood unmoving by the side of the ship for the past twenty minutes. 

Silence is characteristic of Illya, though not the tension in her jaw or the deep, frustrated furrow in her eyebrows. Even as a crewmate who carried a mountain of responsibilities upon her shoulders (at such a considerably young age compared to the others, no less), the expression the girl wore was always one of a gentle smile, or a soft contemplative stare that pierced into one’s soul. 

The side of Illya that he’d call frightening is rare - something of a myth, really... especially to the newer blood amongst his crew, a couple of whom often took the young woman’s usual meek and docile demeanor as weakness... 

But it is truly in this moment of seemingly bleakness, where the flicker of guiding starlight shines the brightest... and though captain Kaye was starting to grow increasingly worried at the girl’s unresponsiveness as she studied the waves and the wind intently, his trust in his skills kept him from questioning her. 

She’s a part of the Wandering Equinox - they who represented the light in the dark, the hope in despair, and the freedom to carve out their own paths and fate in life, after all... and she is to be the guiding light who shall show them a way out of the shadows, a task befitting of the navigator of the celestial seas.

He trusts her - as do majority of the crew. This will not be the first or the last time she shall be their miracle. 

“I get it.... I get it now!” Her voice cries out against the thunderous weather, and she turns around to cast sparkling, hopeful yet determined eyes upon the captain. Her grasp upon the compass in her hand had been so tight, it’d turned the complexion upon her entire left hand white. 

“We need to raise all the sails and steer hard to starboard! We’ll never be able to make it out unless we go at full speed!” 

Her proclamation draws the attention of the hands on deck, and though under any other ordinary circumstances, the words of the navigator of the stars held just as much equal weight as it does with the captain, they were perhaps in no condition to consider her command, full of risks and uncertainty, with a rational mind. 

Frenzied and panicked, and having just rolled down the sails only to be told that they needed to be set back up, they called out and questioned against the girl.

“Are ye mad??! The ship’ll snap in half before we’ll ever get outta here!”

“What?! Listen to y’self lass! Ye’ve gone down the deep end if yer seriously telling us to do somethin’ so risky!” 

“That’s way too bleedin’ risky for my likin’ chief... You shoulda asked captain for his opinion first-”

There’s merit to caution, there’s merit to their protests. Hells, there’s even merit to calling out her madness. 

Under normal circumstances, perhaps she’d cave, retreat into her shell, bite back the tears and the insecurities with an all too melancholic smile- ever such is the way of a natural actress such as Illya. 

But not in life and death - not in all encompassing darkness. 

Against the crashing of the waves and the cries of the doubtful back at her, the girl yells out against the storm of uncertainty, and Kaye could swear that for a single spectacular moment, he could a flash of flaming crimson reflected in her starry eyes, and the beacon of light that was to be their darling guiding star finally finds her voice. 

“The captain has given ME full right to navigate the ship, ME the authority of acting captain for as long as the storm persists! So if you want to live, you’ll listen and do as I say, or you can see yourself out and be swallowed by the seas!” 

---

It’s a whole several nightmarish hours until they stop hearing the dreadful sounds of water bashing against the haul of the boat, or the screams of horror as the boat rocked violently against the tides that only seemed to worsen with the speed in which they sailed. 

There had been a few close calls, moments where even Kaye had for, even in an instant momentary flash of weakness, truly believed that it was their fate to be capsized. 

When the waves grew quieter slowly but surely, and at the first glimpse of still waters in the distance forward, was finally when he’d allowed himself to take a deep breath of relief, allowing the fresh ocean air untainted by the scent of fear to fill his lungs as he collapsed backwards onto a wooden barrel. 

His pink haired companion joins him shortly after, fatigue apparent in her wrinkled brows and tension in her bent, trembling arms, sore from hours of grasping tightly onto the wheel for dear life. 

And though he’d almost parted his lips to speak first with several words of praise for her hard work in steering the ship with the command of her quieter, younger friend... It was Lilian who spoke first, a hint of disbelief laced even in her words of awe in regards to the chief navigator.

“Illya’s...really somethin’ else...” The woman sighs, and he agrees with a wordless hum. “’Really thought we were gonna be fish food for a bloody moment back there....”

“Yer serious? Ye of all people doubtin’ Illya?” 

“I didn’t say I doubted her!” Lily hisses out, and she balls her hand up into a fist to give the captain a firm, but ultimately harmless punch to his shoulder. “And don’t say that out loud! She mighta’ve heard ye!” 

“Don’t think she would be able to.” With a gesture of his head, olive green eyes turn towards Illya, whose body has finally surrendered to exhaustion, slumped limply against the wooden mast with a singular cloth tarp, a dry, warm one taken from below deck draped over her soaked body - a token of apology from the crewmates who had voiced up against her earlier, it would seem. “Lass’ too tired to hear anythin’.”

“Well....'course... and no wonder.” Lilian hums, drawing her legs up to her chest, a hint of sympathy flashing through her eyes. “I suppose ‘ll just have to ask her after she wakes up then.”

“Ask her what?” The raven haired man asks, eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“How she does it... Y’know, the whole..navigatin’ thing. How’d she figure that we were trapped in a hurricane and where we should go? Ain’t bein’ the navigator of the stars pretty useless without....ye know... the stars?” 

It’s an understandable question, and one Kaye has no trouble admitting he’s harbored in the past too - in fact he’d ask that exact same question to the girl years prior when she’d first joined the crew, and he had not yet fully grown to trust her with the life of his beloved crew and ship yet. How does a navigator who ever looked skywards and relied on the shining of stars find their way in a storm, where naught but heavy clouds lined the view of the heavens.

And her answer to him then was one he shall repeat in fully back to Lilian now.

“’The stars don’t stop shinin’. They just hide in the tides.’...is what she said. Somethin’ about the way the waves move and the winds blow or somethin’ of the like. I asked before, but I ain’t smart enough to remember in full. But I do remember her sayin’ that she’d been trackin’ the southern cross for the past couple o’ moons...” 

“Ah.” With a hint of understanding, Lilian lets out a laugh and allows her head to fall crane back loosely. “I think I get it now. She’s so obsessed with stars that she never loses sight of their direction... even when we’re ridin’ round in circles.”

Kaye holds back a snort and a smile from gracing his lips, only for his gaze to settle once more on the peacefully slumbering girl, whose loyal hawk of incredibly superstitious and weather predicting powers has come to perch and rest besides.

“Aye, I suppose that’s one way of puttin’ it.”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #kiwisffxivwrite2022 #illya skawi #kaye #lily #pirate au #gpose #mine #fanfic #i'm not proud of this entry because i'm exhausted after a day of work #but i'm forcing myself to write anyway #and this was the result #would probably be longer if i had the time and energy #GOOD NIGHT

[memer-the-miner]

okay hear me out

techzlatt going shopping and loosing techno ends with many cuddles? 🙇‍♂️

YO I GOT YOU!!!! Story below the cut, its not that long but still long enough. Sorry if there are any grammar things.

“Alright my loves, time for the most difficult job yet,” Phil huffed out as he held three pieces of paper in his hand.

Next to him Techno gave him a nervous glance, on the other side Schlatt fiddled anxiously with his sleeves.

Phil shoved a copy of the list into each of his lovers hands. Each scanned their own copy thoroughly. 

“Are you sure about this, Angel?” Techno asked, putting a hand on his husband’s shoulder. Phil sighed and nodded.

 “We will get everything on this shopping list even if it kills us,” he exclaimed, trudging forward into the supermarket, Schlatt and Techno following behind.

The three made their way into the product filled maze, the tall walls overwhelmingly full. Beside them were both humans and hybrids that tried to navigate the aisles, nabbing any shiny item that nabs their attention as they pass. Each grabbed a cart and stared in awe at the displays that surrounded them. Phil shook himself out of his stupor and turned to the other two.

“Remember boys, focus on your parts of the list. Grab what you can and meet back here in half an hour,” Phil said. Techno nodded as Schlatt gave a mock salute.

With that each set off in a different direction. Phil went to the dairy filled fridges beside the shelves covered in fruits and vegetables. Double checking the list, Phil added his list of fruits and vegetables to the cart, making sure to add extra potatoes. He even did a quick look around to see if he could find anything he knew the others would like. As the thirty minutes came to a close Phil wandered back over to the starting point where he saw Schlatt was already waiting, his cart filled with bird seed and other pet foods. 

“Find everything?” Phil asked moving closer and checking his partner’s cart.

“Yup,” Schlatt replied, popping the ‘p’. “Even found an extra large bag of bird seed for your crows.” Phil gave him an appreciative kiss on the cheek as they waited for Techno.

Standing there, seconds turned to minutes as the two realized Techno was still nowhere to be seen. 

“Should we go look for him?” Schlatt asked, leaning on his cart. Phil nodded.

“Maybe we should leave the carts here though,” The two asked the nearest employee to simply watch over their carts while they looked for their lover. The man gave a sluggish nod but Phil assured it wouldn’t take long. Schlatt led the way as Phil peaked around corners and aisles looking for the piglin. 

When they finally made it to the area Techno was supposed to be in, both saw that there wasn’t a trace of the piglin anywhere. They then began to look in the neighboring aisles to see if he had simply got distracted. However neither found the piglin, nor evidence that he had gone through. 

The two began to get more and more panicked as they looked all over the store, even going back to their meeting place to see if Techno showed up.

“Maybe we should just call him,” Schlatt supplied to Phil with a reassuring hand on his back. However, Phil could tell from how his hand shook that the ram-hybrid was just as panicked as he was.

Phil shook his head. “He doesn’t have his phone on him remember, it broke last week and we haven’t gotten a replacement yet.” The avian-hybrid looked over as Schlatt’s faux composure began to unravel. Schlatt's breath got shorter as he began to mumble the what-ifs that plagued his brain.

“Oh gods what if he got hurt, or he was kidnapped or-“ Schlatt’s ramble was cut off as an announcement came over the speakers.

“Mr. Philza Minecraft, Mr. Jebediah Schlatt, we have your child here at customer service. I repeat Mr. Philza Minecraft and Mr. Jebediah Schlatt we have a lost child requesting for you”

“We hAve A cHiLd?” Schlatt wheezed out in confusion as Phil dragged him over to the customer service desk.

The two rushed over to the desk and saw, standing awkwardly to the side, cart in hand, their lover. At their disheveled appearance, Techno gave an uncomfortable laugh. 

“I may have gotten lost,” he admitted.

A laugh burst out of Phil in relief as Schlatt reprimanded Techno for giving him a heart attack. All three of them apologized to the employees who laughed it off saying it happens more than expected. 

Phil led the way back to where they left their carts, Schlatt following closely behind, refusing to let go of Techno’s hand. When they made it back, they were shocked to find that their carts and all of their groceries had been put away. 

Schlatt called out for the employee they spoke to previously. “What happened to our things?” He asked as politely as he could. The man shrugged and turned away before Schlatt could inquire further.

Phil let out a groan, Techno giving him a pat on the back with his free hand. Schlatt let out a string of curses, and from Techno’s wince, Phil could tell that he had tightened his grip.

“Y'know what,” Phil stood up straight and turned fully to his partners. “Forget it,  we can come back another day for the rest of the groceries,” he grabbed Techno’s cart and pushed it into the nearest self checkout.

They made quick work of scanning before paying and rushing into the parking lot and piling into Schlatt’s car. The drive home was barely quiet as Schlatt grumbled about ‘needing a protocol for lost boyfriends’. Techno offered to bring in the groceries as an apology, which Phil and Schlatt accepted without hesitation.

Phil collapsed onto the couch and listened as Schlatt and Techno put away the products they managed to buy. Sitting quietly and letting his thoughts take over, his intrusive thoughts of fear and danger raised into his mind. The anxiety of almost losing Techno amplified the unspoken worries tenfold. Phil felt the couch shift as Techno sat down next to him.

The avian sat up and looked at his husband. Without sharing a word, Phil pressed his face into the piglin’s chest, hugging him tightly. Techno hugged back but adjusted his grip as Schlatt joined them. The piglin nuzzled their heads with his snout, his deep breaths calming Phil down.

The three lovers cuddled throughout the night as they silently told each other how much they loved one another.

#Btw if this isnt what you wanted hmu ill redo it #memer mines asks #memer the writer #anon asks #writing request #mama didnt raise a bitch #but she did raise a procrastinator #this will also be on AO3 if you want to check it out there #my account is SofaQueen #techzlatt

[lilacandladybugs]

here is my @mcytblrsecretsanta gift for @flippedorbit ! i hope that you like it :)

Winnie the Pooh Version: In Which Technoblade and Philza Make a Turtle Farm and Nothing Bad Happens

One day, after Technoblade had moved into his new home and brought all of his pets along with him, he curled up by the crackling fireplace in his living room underneath a pile of dogs, and Philza sat next to him. “You see, Phil,” Technoblade said, picking a dog up off his face and setting it on the floor beside him, “becoming peaceful has been difficult for me.”

“I can imagine,” remarked Phil.

“But I am determined to make it work.” The dog wriggled out of Technoblade’s hands and sat back down on his face. He decided to let it happen. “The best way of making such a thing work is to acquire vast sums of pets.”

“That’s true,” Phil lied. Phil did not like having pets. But he thought that Technoblade might be in a Sad Mood, and even Phil knew that animals are a good way of helping Sad People, like Techno.

Technoblade nodded thoughtfully. “Yesterday I was talkin to George and he asked me where my cows were, and I didn’t even murder him.”

“I’m impressed,” said Phil, “Not even a little?” “Not even a little,” Technoblade said mournfully.

They sat together in what was a comforting silence to Technoblade and an awkward one for Phil.

“It took so much patience. But I have a cow-shaped void in my heart, Phil. One that cannot be filled by dogs, horses, and Edward.”

“Oh,” said Phil, still not sure what to say.

“What we need,” Technoblade began, as he pushed the little dog off his face so as to make eye contact with Phil, “what we need is a turtle farm.”

“Oh, yes. We are in need of turtles,” Phil concurred, never having felt the need for turtles in his life. He did, however, always feel the need to make a farm, so he was encouraged by that part of the plan. It had been a very long time since Phil himself had ever been attached to anything, but he did care about Techno, and if that meant helping him build a farm, he was more than ready to do it. 

“I know how to make one,” Phil proposed, concealing his enthusiasm. “But we’re going to need some turtle eggs.”

“Oh,” said Techno. He hadn’t made it this far in his plan. “Where can we find turtle eggs?”

“On the beach,” said Phil, who also knew a thing or two about finding lost things on beaches. “We can take a boat together and go on our way.”

Now what you must come to understand about Techno the Pig and Philza the Crow, is that neither of them are aware of having ever done anything wrong in their lives, including going in the wrong direction. They are, in fact, so confident that they have not ever done anything wrong that they find it quite beneath them to ask for directions. All the villagers nearby are aware that Philza has lived many minecraft lives across centuries and he is sometimes called Philza Minecraft, as though he himself were the creator of the world. Techno the Pig is, as many pigs are, an expert of navigation, and has been called the Human GPS. 

Occasionally, as they were confidently on their way to the ocean, Technoblade would say to Phil, “are you sure this is the right direction?” Or, “are we positive that we should go this way?” Or even, “perhaps we should consult a map.” But Philza was very positive that they were going in the right direction, and so they continued onward, toward Something.

At some point as they passed Pogtopia and were clearly not on their way to the ocean, Technoblade realized they had made some sort of mistake. “Phil?” “Yeah?” “I think we have gone the wrong way.” 

Phil laughed, “Oh no, of course we haven’t.”

“Oh,” said Technoblade, now feeling quite Technolost, “I suppose we haven’t then.”

He then followed after Phil quickly so as not to seem unexcited, and looked carefully at the branches in the forest as though they might have a clue about the whereabouts of turtles. Turtles are known vegetarians, you see, and often are known to come out of the ocean and into large forests so as to eat tree branches. Techno knew this because he was very well read and knew lots of things about everything. 

“Phil,” Technoblade began again, “wouldn’t it be faster if we used a map?” 

“No no,” Phil insisted, “the two of us could never get lost.” 

It wasn’t until the entire day had passed and the moon was rising that Phil sat down on a 

nearby rock in defeat. “I do not know where the turtles are Technoblade.” 

“Oh,” Techno said, “That’s quite alright Phil don’t worry. We can still make a map and 

find them.” 

“I was so set on being right that I didn’t want to ask for help,” Phil said, “I wanted to be

Important.” “Oh,” said Techno, “Well not everything that’s important has to be right all the time. You are important to me, and that makes you alright I think.” 

Phil stood up a little perkier than before, “okay,” he said, “let’s go home and get some lunch.” 

The next day was much more successful for Technoblade and Phil, as they remembered to make a map and were far more cheerful when they made it to the beach. The two of them walked up and down the beach together, along the way collecting shells and pointing out seagulls to one another on the sand, finding themselves quite pleased by their success with the map, and not at all worried about finding the turtle eggs themselves. Sure enough, as they were coming upon a new beach, Philza pointed out a small collection of what looked like rocks, but were in fact eggs.

Techno picked up some of the eggs in his hands and held them gently. It was odd to have something so small and frail in his hands, so delicate and in need of protecting. They gathered up all the eggs and brought them back to the house to begin the construction of the farm.

“How do you feel?” Phil asked Techno as they put the last finishing touches on the farm.

But Technoblade didn’t respond. He was too busy watching how small the turtles were as they clambered out of their eggs and into the water, swimming around. They were still just like they had been as eggs, delicate, frail. So as not to look like this bothered him he said, “I am quite alright, Phil, as is typical. I have decided that turtles are not going to be the solution to my problems though, and I think I may have to go into hibernation.”

Phil had been building a roof over the turtle farm to protect it from the snow, so when he heard this, he made his way down to see what the trouble was more closely. Sad People who could not be comforted by pets were confusing. What could be done? 

Then, as he was coming down, Techno noticed one of the small creatures was missing. This was terrible, horrible, “Phil!” he said, “Turtles,” techno expanded, “what happened?” he explained, rooting around to look for the tiny creature. Technoblade sifted through the snow to make sure that the turtles had not gone missing, and found that one of them had been completely buried by a tiny patch of snow.

“Oh dear,” Techno said, collecting the turtle, “I don’t think this will make me less angry Phil. Now I am simply worried about the turtles. What will happen to them?”

Phil sat by Techno for a little while, watching the turtles, and the snow fall around them. “Well,” he said finally, “I think that it is alright to not be in control always, and need help sometimes, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” said Techno.

“I think that we will be alright here together, with the turtles. We can help one another, and they can help us.” 

And I don’t want to spoil the story, but I think you can imagine how Techno and Phil took care of the turtles together, protecting the small ones, feeding the adults, and giving one another a helping hand, for many many days to come.

#dream smp #dsmp #dsmpblr #emerald duo #philza #technoblade #winnie the pooh au #secret santa #i hope u like it

[2hoothoots]

it’s the weekend, let’s round up some asks

@kidatash see, i actually kinda think that out of the trio he’s the one who’s least an animal person? like, he didn’t grow up with pets - it’s not really A Thing in romani culture, and Sugarcube is (ostensibly) a working animal. he doesn’t dislike animals, but in comparison to the other two, Dogen has his zoolingualism and Lili already canonically will find animals on the ground and put them in her pocket because they’re hers now (Harold).

i do headcanon Raz has a soft spot for crows, though! it has basically 0 justification other than the dialogue he has with the crows outside of Thorney Towers but yknow what, i can have a few minor headcanons with no in-canon basis as a treat for me

@loudlychoppedbread HAHA i think they definitely do bicker sometimes. they’re, like, in the middle of a firefight having an argument about whose fault it is that they’re out of toilet paper back home

uh but i think generally they all have really good communication, and they’re all reasonably emotionally intelligent people? so they’re pretty good at talking out conflict before it blows up. i think the only time they really fight is when something’s happened at work or something, because their coping mechanisms can pull in different directions - eg, Lili becomes very clingy when she’s upset and a lot more in need of affirmations than usual, whereas Raz has a really bad habit of distancing himself from the others and throwing himself into his work to try and distract himself from bad feelings (’mission now, mad later’). they all work a pretty high-stress job, and sometimes it can spill into their personal lives, especially if one of them gets hurt.

@strawberry-milk-things​ @portalcartoon​ i’m still hammering out concepts for mental worlds for the three of them, but once idea i’ve seen floating around that I really like is that as part of Raz’s mental defenses, his mental world is very tricky to navigate for an intruder? i think it still starts from the caravan, but if your mental projection isn’t strong enough you’ll step through the door and just end up back outside (if you can even get into it in the first place).

his mental world proper is a sprawling labyrinth of circus tents. they all lead to different parts of his mind (you’ll step inside one and find yourself in the Motherlobe, another will lead to his family campgrounds) - but which entrance leads where is always shifting. if you can climb to the top of the tallest tent (hope you’re either an acrobat or a skilled levitator!), what looks like a sky filled with stars is actually a huge inverted ocean, stretching above the tent city. through it is Raz’s subconscious/inner mind, but it’s a barrier almost impossible to navigate for anyone else.

i think generally speaking, the mental worlds of adults are a lot more expansive than those of kids, and i think as you get older you can get better at shaping your own mindscape? so Raz also has, like, some basic braining-esque areas set aside for when he goes to help out at Whispering Rock. a little kid-friendly mental parkour course, and stuff

i only have the sketches of ideas for the other two, but Lili’s mental world is a huge gothic castle + grounds that’s crumbling and overgrown with plants. different rooms are different biomes, so you’ll go from a corridor that’s hot and humid like a greenhouse to a huge ballroom that’s filled with a pine forest, cool and quiet with a thick bed of needles underfoot. and Dogen’s mind is a huge factory/machine (as a representation of his blastokinesis), and it’s staffed by a bunch of little lemming-like animal critters. when the machinery starts malfunctioning the lemmings start dying in comically gory ways lol, and if it was an in-game level you’d have to do like puzzles to help them through.

@threewaysdivided YES definitely! like i don’t think the game needed to explain everything to us outright because i think its use of metaphors and imagery to convey the mental states of its characters is good, but man. i just love the water imagery around the Aquato family so much. 

i have a fic idea that i’ve been picking at for, like, MONTHS about Nona teaching Raz how to use hydrokinesis. and i’ve never gotten anywhere with it because i’ve never been able to figure out what i want it to be ABOUT, but like, man. water as a metaphor for trauma, but also for bloodlines and the things they share and how they can reconnect over that. re-watching the Devil’s Firehose cutscene after having finished the game and realising that, once you know that the Hand isn’t some malignant outside force, the hands coming out of the water tornado aren’t trying to drown Raz but to catch him and carry him safely through the storm to where Nona is. i don’t have a concluding statement for this, i just. it’s very good. love this family

#also this is a general apology to anyone who's sent an ask and i still haven't gotten around to answering it #i love getting asks but i am often very slow at answering them lol #i have a ton of old ones in the back of my inbox that i'd still love to answer or draw stuff for lol #i'll get around to it one day..... one day #but it really does make me smile to see asks appear in my inbox so THANK YOU to everyone who has sent one! sorry i am so bad at replying ha

[shirophantomvox]

Hold My Hand- Illumi x Reader

OMG thank you! My first international fan! Thank you for this wonderful prompt! This was requested by @illucilfer .

Summary: Today’s story takes place in a 1950s diner by a frequently used Interstate; Interstate 95. We know this dinner for its delicious hamburgers, hot dogs, milkshakes, and jukebox records, but every night one Patreon never returns home. A few men who were angry about your recent arrest have shot you both. As you both stare at each other exchanging mental signals, everyone around you tries to help you to the hospital. Y/N is narrating the story. I seem to have fewer grammar errors that way. FYI, Bold and italicized font will reference a thought or flashback.

Story Navigation

Let’s get started!

The leaves have turned bright yellow and orange, fluttering every second to the ground. I could hear little children a while away laughing and playing in the community park; throwing up the leaves, jumping into piles, and throwing them at each other. The smell of freshly baked donuts brightened everyone’s mood. All you had to do was take one bite and your face would brighten and crack a smile. Dining at Cupid’s Kitchen will always have your heart and interest.

Interstate 95 was always heavy with traffic during this time of year. The folks of Dallas celebrated mulch annually. The “Mulch Fest” was a street fair that stretched 1.5 miles to the east that contained music, drinks, farmer panels, homemaker Q&A, and other activities that southerners enjoy. Illumi and I are only here because of an unfinished assignment. We have worked night and day for countless days trying to catch Jack “Da Hamor” Gilberton, but he was nowhere to be found. Eventually, I allowed my anger to get the best of me and made the executive decision to take a day off. I barred Illumi from searching, tracking, or any form of hunting for our target. The life of a bounty hunter and an assassin can thrill, but it can drive you insane if you allow it.

Ironically, Illumi and I both enjoy fall. It is perfect for cuddling (although he acts as if he’s too good to cuddle), wearing creative hoodies, going to pumpkin patches, and attending apple orchids. I tend to “lose my cool” when we have dates there. When I was a child, my family did not go on trips like these because they were over an hour away from our home and I had 5 siblings. But once I made money for myself, I made it my mission to go to one at least 5 times out of the year. Illumi enjoys the different fudge, hot cider, and candy apples. He almost broke a tooth on one!

“Say cheese snag-a’-tooth!”

“Stop it. It’s not funny!”

“It is! Could you imagine if you lost your two front teeth? You’d look almost adorable as you did in the 1st grade!”

“How did you know about that?”

“Duh! It happens to everyone, but your mother showed me the pictures, of course.”

“Curses!”

Illumi’s sweet tooth is just like Killua’s; both have a weakness for chocolate. Except, Killua will admit defeat while his older brother keeps denying it.

Cupid’s Dinner has been in Dallas for over 55 years. A black woman established it in 1945 by the name of Mary-Lou Benson. Since then, Mary’s family has been running the shop, making sure all of her customers are happy with the service. During the turn of each season, Cupid’s Dinner gives its customer's food options based on the season. The fall options include donuts, candy apples, different flavored cider, fudge, and hot coffee specials. As much as everything looked appetizing, I could not order it all. Our server, Little Ben, placed our drinks in front of us and handed us the menu. I could tell he was happy with his line of work, just as I was to be with Illumi.

“You all take your time. I’ll be back in five.”

Ilumi glanced on both sides of the room, scanning for Jack Gilberton, already forgetting the agreement we established.

“Illumi, what are you doing?”

“Huh?”

“You keep looking around like you’ve seen Da Hamor. Eat your donut and relax, sweetheart.”

“I cannot relax. I must stay on alert.”

“If I can relax, so can you. It’s not that hard.”

“Fine. If I die, it’s on your head… literally.”

The jingling bell rang almost every second when a customer walked in. It was a joy to everyone's ears; the spirit of Mary Lou-Benson was alive and well. An overwhelming feeling of love seemed to have overtaken the diner. After examining the bistro for quite some time now, each customer had been using their cellphones at the table instead of chatting with their families. Many traditional families hated that about this generation but they should be open to new traditions forming. Illumi dislikes using cell phones or tablets at the table unless we use them for missions. He has emphasized how rude it is to be surfing the web about utter nonsense while someone is speaking. This is a pet peeve of his, something I’ll never step on his toe about. Although I think that is overdoing it, I respect it.

Little Ben served our table quickly, leaving us with two dishes of a classic chicken sandwich, kettle chips, one chocolate, and vanilla milkshake. Milkshakes were my weakness; I nearly foam at the mouth when I see one. When I found out that Illumi had NEVER had a milkshake, I almost fainted.

“No. I’ve never had a milkshake.”

“Huh? You’re missing out, pal.”

“What’s the big deal? Isn’t it frozen milk?”

“Not just frozen milk. You can add many flavors, toppings, and whip cream!”

“Well, then. You’ll have to show me sometime.”

We thanked Little Ben for his service as he clocked out for the day.

“I have to admit these sandwiches look very appetizing.”

“You can say that again!”

Before I nibbled on my sandwich, I wanted to take a moment and adore the man before me; Illumi Zoldyck. A man full of mysteries, professionalism, skill, and talent. His enormous eyes were immersed in the large pieces of chicken in between the sourdough bread. He licked his index finger vigorously; allowing the homemade honey mustard to drip enough from the bread to the plate in between licks. Just the sight of him actually relaxing for once has blown me away. For once, Illumi Zoldyck could be himself and I had the privilege to witness it.

“Um… why are you staring at me? Do I have food on my face,” he asked; violently wiping his mouth off with a provided cloth napkin.

“Oh! Ha, ha; no reason. I wanted to see your reaction after drinking your milkshake. That’s all.”

“Why? It’s just a drink.”

“Whatever you say, babe.”

“Babe? What happened to LuLu or Illumi-Lu?”

I gasped and pretended to be surprised… although I was a little.

“I did not know that you liked those pet names. I assumed it mortified you.”

“Who told you that? That never rolled off my tongue. “What I said was” — He bent closer to the table and to me; glancing both to the right and left to ensure no wandering ears were around — “I prefer Illumi-Lu to be said in the bedroom and LuLu when we’re alone, like how we are right now.”

“Aww…. ok,” I yelled in excitement.

“Don’t blow it out of proportion, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

As we ate, Illumi hummed along to the tune that played a few times on the restaurant's jukebox. Illumi and I were born in the mid-90s, but listening to 50s music was a part of his aesthetic. I was told that he had an “old soul” which sounds romantic at first until you realize how men were during that era. His raging temper was a noticeable toxic trait, but it has drastically improved. Nonchalantly sipping on his milkshake and then eating more of his chips, he grazed the soft part of his left hand over mine as he continued to hum.

“What’s the name of this song? You seem to know it rather well.”

“Put your head on my shoulder, a famous song from the 60s. I heard my parents sing it once and since then, they have addicted me to it. Do you like it?”

“Yes, in fact, I love it. All of this is—”

“A surprise to you? Well, enjoy it while it lasts because once I find Jack Gilberton, this side of me will hide for a while.”

“Understood.”

Damn! I was just feeling connected to him again!

The music swelled; everyone seemed to be happy. Not an evil spirit insight to disrupt this beautiful moment. For once in my life, my raven-haired beauty actually held my hand tight, stole a few of my barbecue kettle chips, and gazed into my eyes harmlessly. His lips brushed against both of my hands, ever so lightly placing kisses on both sides of them. Illumi’s gentle smile warmed my heart as my lingering thoughts of hope stayed intact.

The welcoming bell jingled again. Two men in black leather jackets, stone-washed blue jeans, and tattooed all over their arms came into the diner. The men seemed to be bikers who had just left their own “spot” but one thing struck me as they continued to walk towards the staff. They both wore sunglasses when the sunset for the day. Not to mention that the lights were not dim in the diner and the moon was as bright as ever. The second man had his eyes glued in my direction. My heart beat faster as I wondered if Jack Gilberton had found us. Could you imagine?

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms, baby

Squeeze me oh-so-tight

Show me you love me too

I am used to coming in contact with enemies on my hit list, but given Jack’s criminal history; I felt like I may not survive his attacks. Illumi will survive, but just barely. Both men approached the checkout, crowing over Little Ben’s sister. She was a short woman but full of might, and I could tell by the shakiness in her voice she was frightened. I wanted to step in so badly, but I didn't want to blow my cover just in case it was, in fact, Jack Gilberton. After I assume, ordering food, both men stood by the entrance, blocking it from others from entering and leaving. The sound of their old, beat up-lighters crackled as one lit a joint and the other lit a cigarette. This horrid smell ruined the atmosphere because they were not in a designated area and it drowned out the lovely aroma of the food being served.

“If you gentlemen would like to smoke, you need to go outside. There is no smoking in here.”

“What? You think you’re better than me because you don’t smoke?”

“Huh? I never said that, sir. I asked for you to go outside. Not all of our customers can deal with it.”

They did not move a muscle. The sound of their mucous laughter made everyone’s stomach turn. They laughed at the young girl and called her many slurs. Little Ben’s sister didn’t flinch, nor did she cry; she remained still, staring at the men. I had just enough of their obnoxious behavior.

“If you do not leave, I will call the police.”

“The hell you won’t.”

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once, baby?

He drew a gun from his left side. He aimed it at Little Ben’s sister and demanded that she emptied the drawer. She refused. Her stone, iron will reminded me of Illumi; no matter the circumstance, they remained intact, determined to fight until the end. Bravery is always encouraged, but too much will cause your life to be taken away. Little Ben’s sister grabbed a fake till that they kept under the real one and threw it at both men. Fake money fluttered everywhere in the small diner, mimicking confetti. Gunshots rang in all directions as the imbeciles recklessly shot, aiming for Little Ben’s sister. Everyone threw themselves on the ground to avoid being shot, but luck cannot spread itself throughout an entire room of people. A young child, an older man, and another worker were shot in their lower leg. Blood reflected from the ground as it continued to seep. Ignoring injured civilians is a jackass move and continuing to deny the fact would prove that the oath I pledge to meant nothing. Sure, bounty hunters must remain hidden, but if someone is injured, I must help them.

The child was lying lifeless on the polished marble floor. He would not respond to my shaking or my silent whispers. When I rolled him over, my heart broke into a million pieces. This child had no chance of survival; a few bullets struck his chest, one just inches away from his heart. A tear rolled down my cheek.

“Why must the good die young,” I whispered to myself.

“... Because snitches get stitches.”

Before I could gain sight of who stated this utterly corny response, I felt an overwhelming amount of pain in my lower back. It felt like a million tiny needles were jabbed so far through my skin that they entered my intestine. I could still hear, but my body would not move. I tried and tried, but my brain would not signal my legs.

Move! Move, damn it!

It’s odd; I could hear myself talk, but my body would not move at all. The sound of another thudding body made my mind jump. My heart had already been pounding enough to try to resuscitate my organs to move, but a familiar semi-blurring sight of none other than Mr. Illumi Zoldyck cleared my sight. My brain went wild. I didn’t know if Illumi died or if he became paralyzed, but one thing is for sure. We finally made eye contact that felt special; something I hadn’t felt since the day I met him. Our contact felt like magnets; an unbreakable bond. Suddenly, my icy hand felt warmth around my palm and fingers. Illumi simultaneously fell in a way that connected our hands. Our unbreakable bond, the warmth of his fingers laying on top of mine, and the gaze we shared somehow made me feel like it was just the two of us alone. I could hear his thoughts loud and clear; thoughts that came from the heart.

“Please help me. Before it’s too late, LuLu,” I cried, thinking I was going insane. “I don’t want to leave if it means leaving you behind.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

“Please! I want to live a life. Life as a bounty hunter, build a support system to our children, and a good lover is all I want to be.”

“You are a warrior and so am I. We have been through worse. This is nothing.”

Mere eye contact is all we need to exchange wandering conversations. The bond that we’ve created is something so strong that I haven’t realized it until now. The warmth emitted from his loose grasp seems to lose its effectiveness. It blurred my vision beyond recognition, leaving Illumi as a near figment of my imagination.

“Oh no. I guess this is it.”

My vision darkened. Illumi was slipping away as my lingering thoughts almost made my heart give out from exhaustion. I was ready to accept my fate, but it seemed like fate had other plans. My vision was still darkening by the second, but my sense of touch remained there. Smooth fingers outline my arms, torso, and chest. I heard muffled voices yelling and screaming about calling for assistance, but I didn’t care if they came or not. I made peace with my life’s end. Bit by bit, my breathing slowed down, but my sense of touch remained heightened. I felt a rubber glove touch my face and neck, examining it for any damage.

The jukebox continued to play Illumi’s favorite song, Put Your Head on my Shoulder. I remembered the day I laid my head on his shoulder; boy, what an endearing moment that was. It was something I took for granted, something I should have savored, for I never knew that this moment would have happened. The song grew muffled by the second verse. That verse repeated every time I tried to force myself to take what felt like my last gaze at my raven-haired beauty.

Just a kiss goodnight, maybe

You and I will fall in love (you and I will fall in love)

-FIN.

A/N: Since you’ve made it to the end, I’ll say something. The reader did not die in the end. They were later revived at the hospital.

#hunter x huner headcanons #hunter x 1999 #hunter x hunter #hunter x meme #hunter x reader #hunter x 2011 #illumi x reader #illumi x y/n #illumi zoldyck #hunter x hunter x illumi #illumi hcs #illumi hunter x hunter #illumi headcanons #illumi #illumi fluff #illumi angst #hxh chrollo #hxh hisoka #hxh #shiro phantom vox creates #100 followers event #100 followers #100 days of productivity #writing #writers on tumblr #send me an ask #requests closed for this event

[wildbootsappeared]

Boots’ Definitive List of “Mainstream Fiction That’s Basically Off-Brand Pokemon Fic”

Humans who tame monsters. Animals that talk. Humans that transform into animals or monsters. These themes are common for a reason: they’re good shit. They’re a huge part of the Pokemon fandom, but they appear in other stories as well. If you want to improve your skills as a writer, these are some good non-fic options to broaden your palette. 

So many adult Pokemon fans grew up reading Warrior Cats and Animorphs that I’m not going to bother with them here. Instead, I’ll focus on books you might not have heard of yet but should definitely check out.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger is a YA murder mystery about a teenage Apache girl who can raise the spirits of animals from the dead. Specifically, her main companions are her ghost dog named Kirby and, later, her grandmother’s enormous, invisible mammoth ghost. Dog ghost and mammoth ghost both sound like fun pokemon designs to me! The book also includes vampires, fairy rings, and other kinds of magic both benevolent and threatening, but there’s no shortage of ghost-dog-to-the-rescue with his Sonic Bark. There are also a few animal people mentioned briefly, and I think they’d appeal to PMD fans and possibly the pokemorph community.

A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger focuses on animal people in more depth. It’s a tale of environmental calamity and cooperation between human teenager Nina and a gaggle of animal people (a cottonmouth snake, two coyote girls, and a hawk). More than half of the novel is about the daily lives and misadventures of the animal people community, which exists totally separately from the human world. The animal people are the most charming and interesting part of the book. They can easily change between their animal “true forms” to a human-like “false form” and perform other magical feats.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is told from the perspective of a family of rabbits who are trying to survive in the world and make a home. It’s got epic battles and rabbit mythology.

Hollow Kingdom by Jane Buxton is more xenofiction (fiction told from a non-human perspective), much weirder and more irreverent than Watership Down but not less spiritual and gripping. It’s a zombie apocalypse story set in the Seattle metro area, told from a perspective of a domesticated crow and other pets dealing with the loss of their humans and the challenges of the new world.

Borne by Jeff Vandermeer is a surreal and quirky yet horrifying fantasy apocalypse story about a human scavenger trying to survive the chaotic wastes left behind by The Corporation. Her main companion is an amorphous shapeshifter named Borne (read: ditto). It also features murderous bears, trickster foxes, and a number of other hard-to-explain oddities. To me, it reads like the delightfully horrible lovechild of pokemorph fic and PMD.

Heart’s Blood by Jane Yolen is not the first in the Pit Dragons series, but it is the one I read as a child. Heart’s Blood is the name of the protagonist’s prize fighting dragon. The human characters have some other struggles and conflicts going on, but their main source of income is breeding and pitting dragons against each other in blood sport.

The Red Threads of Fortune by Neon Yang is also not the first of the fantasy silk punk Tensorate series, but it is the one that features characters racing into battle on the backs of tame-ish dragons and navigating semi-psychic bonds with their attack dinosaurs. It also features a variety of queer relationships.

The His Dark Materials Trilogy and The Book of Dust by Philip Pullman are set in a world where all humans have an animal familiar, a daemon, who represents an aspect of their personality and their soul. The books also feature sapient armored bears, interplanar travel, specters, witches, and magical technologies. The books are all phenomenal and you should read them regardless, but there’s also a lot to like here for folks who like journeyfic.

More to come ... eventually!

#pokemon fanfic #book recommendations #book list

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear

Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?

Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.

So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.

Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.

And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”

And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)

Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.

(read more death imagery under the cut)

Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.

Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.

You go on hating birds, Joey.

Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”

So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.

So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.

But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.

So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)

Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.

So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.

Holy crap.

And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...

...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?

They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?

Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”

They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.

I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?

Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.

At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”

Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.

Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.

Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.

And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”

Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.

And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.

Wow.

I mean that is really gross.

I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.

So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.

I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.

So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.

It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.

So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.

Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.

So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.

Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?

After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.

And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.

So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.

Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?

Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.

Hey like...

Alexander the Great, my man...

Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.

Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.

So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.

Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.

So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.

And inside the casket, is...this thing!

(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)

And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.

and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”

Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.

That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.

Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?

Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.

Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation

#Yugioh #YGO #yu gi oh #photo recap #episode recap #S5 #Ep19 #Yugi Muto #Joey Wheeler #Joey's fear of birds I've never heard about until this episode #Tea Gardner #Grandpa Muto #Tristan Taylor #Baby Dragon #This weird ass tranformer that Yugi is wearing.

[gamer-logic]

Hetalia Platonic Ships Week Day 4 Annual Canadian-American Sleepover

Allen and James had never had the pleasure of experiencing the annual Canadian-American sleepover/prank way before, so the kids all decide to 'initiate them.' Pure chaos ensues.

They all have the sleepover at Alfred's place since it's the biggest.

Full-on prank war starts right out of the gate. Allen and James are immediately initiated by everyone with the oldest trick in the book: getting slathered in maple syrup and chicken feathers. Louisiana teams up with Ontario to terrorize Quebec voodoo-based pranks. Of course, Allen runs damage control makes sure to keep track of what they're doing, and cancel any horrible aftereffects. Nevada runs bets on who falls for what prank. The highest is California falling for the kale snack that's actually grass prank. With Tony's help, Alfred pranks Mathew by beaming down beavers on his head and teleporting him into a giant pile of maple leaves filled with syrup. Mathew immediately retaliates by jump scaring him with a creepy eagle mask every time he enters a room then chases him into the barn where he's covered in ketchup and mustard.

Pennsylvania and New Brunswick team up to switch PEI's hair care products and New Jersey's hair gel. They also replace New Jersey's bottle of soap with Tan in a Can mixed with Cheeto puff powder. Saskatchewan and Nunavut scare New York and make him think Wendigos are after him. New Mexico and Arizona fill every bit of Minnesota's winter gear with desert sand. North Dakota and North Carolina team up against South Dakota and South Carolina in a giant nerf war. Delaware, being Delaware, puts sticky notes on everything. There's can only be one. The Southern States team up to terrorize Florida in revenge for Florida man. They convince Florida she needs to around dressed as all their state football mascots to ward off Florida man who's coming to fight her Alligators.

Arkansas borrows Lousiana's pet pelican and trains it to dive-bomb Alabama and Mississippi with stink bombs. Texas mixes his five-alarm chili seasoning in with food and gets people to eat it. Alfred easily falls for this when it's put in ice cream. Mathew as well when it's put in poutine. Wisconsin makes various cheese replicas of everyday items and replaces them. He'll go around just eating things like a lamp in front of people to subtly frick with them and make them question reality. Oregon tye dyes everything Washington has. Tennesee has trained various chickens to crow at Kentucky at various hours of the day whenever she walks by. Hawaii and Alaska are currently leading on the scoreboard because, despite their unassuming looks, they're little devils, especially when hyped on sugar.

Their most successful one to date would be tying one end of Texas' lasso to Ameriwhale and telling him they found it, giving him the other end, and making him go for a swim. British Columbia and Alberta accompany Maryland who loves subtly messing with Mr. Perfectionist Delaware by moving everything he has in his room an inch over to the right and making everything crooked. Kansas, Nebraska, and Iowa rig a popcorn matching to shoot popcorn at random intervals. James ducktapes Allen's shades to his head and his bat to the top of the tallest tree in the yard. He also trains Kuma to roar in his face every time he turns a corner and turns on Jersey Shore every time he comes close to a TV to get him stuck using that accent for a whole day. Allen retaliates by hiding his hockey stick in a nearby beaver dam, dies all his flannel pink and puts polka dots on them, puts honey in his scruff and hair which makes Kuma chase him down to lick it off. He also rigs his motorbike to be remote controlled (a trick learned from Massachusettes) and attaches the back of his paints to it, making them fly off.

Eventually, things start settling down and everyone starts up the movies and eats pizza. The award for the best prank goes to, surprisingly, Wyoming and Newfoundland who actually are aresponsible for over 20+ pranks with Hawaii and Alaska in a close second and Wisconsin in third for sheer creativity. Wyoming enlists Newfoundland to help her set this up, swearing him to secrecy. Many of their pranks include creating an impossible-to-navigate maze and trick people to go in, being continually chased by prairies dogs, gophers, and various farm animals, rigging various wire traps around the house and whenever someone activates one they immediately get pied in the face, and somehow rigging every toilet in the house to flush and sing Another One Bites the Dust on command. No one knows where they got them or how they managed to do this in such a short time. They were also never caught until the scores are tallied and they revealed themselves after no one could figure out who did most of the pranks. It's always the shy ones.

About five minutes into the movie, New Jersey hits New York with a pillow starting another all-out brawl. Texas immediately goes big with a bean bag chair because it's on like Donkey Kong and his motto is 'go big or go home!' Even Delaware, usually a tightwad, gets crazy and helps West Virginia target, Virginia. All of the New England states hunker down in a pillow fort under heavy fire with the Southern states who also vote unanimously to sacrifice Florida. Oklahoma and the rest of Tornado Alley team up and become a giant collective twister of unstoppable force. The battle of the 48th parallel states and provinces i.e. BC, Alberta, Ontario, Saskatchewan, Manitoba, and Ontario vs. Minnesota, North Dakota, Montana, Idaho, and Washington rages on with South Dakota betraying them for the chance to hit North Dakota and Ontario also going rouge after being booted out. Eventually, though, they reveal their double agent status which decimates both sides. Mathew and James immediately go into hockey mode while Allen goes into baseball mode and Alfred into football mode.

The party shows no signs of slowing as the chaos continues late into the night. Everyone wakes up the next morning to find feathers everywhere, Texas' entire cowboy hat collection on the roof, PEI, Ontario, New Jersey, California, and Quebec are all duct tapped to the ceiling, Kansas is wearing a Dorothy costume while Maryland wakes up surrounded by hermit crabs. Georgia is covered in peaches and Florida is seemingly missing until they find her safe and sound in the pool snoozing on a giant Alligator float still in the Bulldog costume with every other state mascot suit next to her. Manitoba, Utah, Kentucky, and Nebraska all wake up in the barn with the chickens crowing. Texas is sleeping on top of his bull ride with his state flag dropped over him. Alfred wakes up in the bathtub in a Captain America costume and Mathew Wakes up in the shower with a Captain Canada costume on. Allen and James come out of things relatively unscathed with Allen crashed on the couch with his motorbike covered in glitter courtesy of Hawaii and Alaska in the living room and James with Kuma in the garage with Wisconsin's cow and goats. Basically, everything is pure chaos and no one knows what has been replaced by cheese and what hasn't. Needless to say, Allen and James' first annual family prank war/sleepver was a success. See y'all next year!

#hetalia #2p hetalia #aph america #aph canada #aph states #hws america #hws canada #hws states #2p america #2p canada #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek

[strawberrylemonz]

Accepted Invitation

Part 1

Part 2 [CURRENT]

Part 3

DT: @bargledblocks my beloved <3 and @snapdragonfirefly my beloved <3

“Chat, stop being dickheads.”

Kristin shook her head as she narrowed her eyes at Phil, who smiled at her.

“He gets that from you.”

“What? Never! He must have learned it from someone else!”

As the two playfully bickered, accusing each other of starting Tommy’s cursing habit, they failed to notice the guilty look that covered the twin’s expression. Ghostbur, not being able to read the atmosphere or situation, whispered in a loud manner.

“Heeeeeey, didn’t we teach him how to curse.”

“You two did what?”

“Nothing! Let’s move on!”

Tommy hummed as he happily navigated through the unfamiliar Portal Hub. He had heard stories of what it was like from his father and brothers, so he was more than excited to finally navigate through it himself. Look at him go! TommyInnit, the most badass adventurer around! He would be so cool, just like his family!

“What is he doing on the main server? Why is he walking around the Portal Hub?”

“I don’t know, but does it matter?”

“Of course it does-!”

“Does not.”

Just as he was about to enter a different section of the Portal Hub, the sound of a small peep caught his attention. Turning around with a smile, he held out his hand as he caught a baby chick, gently petting it with his finger. 

“Hello, little guy. New god?”

“Yes, little chick, I am!”

“Did Clara and Mother lead you my way?”

“They did! They couldn’t help but say good things about you, so I just had to come and see you for myself! I hope I’m not going to stay this small forever.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get bigger the longer you stick around with me. Mother and Clara are already fully grown chickens, but there’s other deities who are still puffy chicks, like you.”

“Wonderful! Can I stay on your person?”

“Sure, why not? Here, just stay there.”

“Thank you, young chick.”

“Not a problem!”

“I’m sorry, gods?”

“Are you telling me that Tommy’s just as crazy as his family? I mean, come on, Chat? Voices? Obvious red flag-”

“That’s not very nice, Dream.”

Dream frowned and tried to cover his ears, doing his best to block out Ghostbur. Techno and Wilbur just sat in silence, watching the form of their brother as he happily interacted with his voices, with his chat. He seemed so much more in control than they ever were at his age. Overall, they were just shocked that he even had a chat, and they didn’t know. Watching the interaction, Ranboo voiced his observation.

“Hey, Tommy kinda has what Phil does.”

“What do you mean, Boo?”

“Phil has a bunch of crows that follow him around, Tommy has baby chicks. Kinda funny, if you ask me.”

Tommy smiled as he tucked the chick into his shirt pocket, happy to see the little fella content. Peering into his satchel, he smiled as he nodded to a small group of chicks huddled in there, peering up at him. Their peeps comforted him as he entered the new area, clutching the straps of both his backpack and satchel tightly in his grip. Mumbling as he studied the different portals, he couldn’t help but snort as familiar clucking caught his attention. Turning around, he waved as a clucking chicken ran to him, flapping into his arms.

“Hello, Mother.”

Quackity snorted, only to quickly move to cover his mouth. Kristin raised an eyebrow as she turned to face him, curiosity painting her face. Nervous laughter erupted from the man’s throat as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to explain.

“It’s just, seeing him call a chicken mother was kind of funny.”

Kristin laughed as she nodded in agreement, she and Clara sharing knowing looks.

“It is funny, yeah.”

The chicken clucked as she rested her head on his shoulder, snuggling in. Waiting as he held her close, he smiled as a red aura came off the chicken, forming a mass in front of him. Floating there, arms crossed, was Kristin. Humming as she looked around the area, she spoke up in a confident manner.

“Joining your Chat was one of the smartest things I’ve ever done. Now I just need to track down your brothers and join their Chats, talk some sense into them during my free time.”

“Good to see you too, Mum.”

Kristin chuckled as she shook her head. Pressing her lips together, she gave her youngest son a pointed look.

“Now, Tommy, why are you here? You should be at home, with the others. The Hub is a big and unpredictable place, no nine year old should be wandering around here unsupervised.”

“But I’m not unsupervised, you’re here!”

Placing her hands on her hips, she shook her head as she sharpened her look, making the child avoid her gaze.

“I mean by someone who is physically there to watch you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mum, I’m a Big Man!”

“I don’t doubt you are, but you still shouldn’t be here on your own. Here, let’s get you back to your father and brothers-”

“No!”

“Yelling at his mother, how rude!”

Niki shook her head in distaste as Jack nodded in agreement.

“She must have the will of thousands to deal with someone like Tommy.”

Kristin frowned at the statements being made behind her. It hurt her that the people her son admired and looked to spoke ill of him behind his back. What hurt her the most, however, was the lack of defense from her husband or sons. Instead, the defense came from someone else.

“Hey, leave the kid alone! Look at him, he’s just a child!”

“Quackity is right, Tommy’s nine here. Besides, if Kristin see’s something wrong with his tone, I’m sure she’d put him back in line.”

A satisfied hum came from Kristin as she smiled at Quackity and Ranboo, glad to see that some people had some sense in themselves.

Kristin frowned as she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head towards her youngest son. Tommy peered down at the chicken in his arms, ashamed. Sighing, he nodded as he looked back at her.

“I’m sorry, Mother. I just- I can’t go back.”

“Why not?”

“I hate being alone.”

The group watched as tears welled up in the child’s eye. They all felt a pinch of pain and hurt in their chests, frowning at how Tommy was feeling. Watching as he wiped his tears away with the chicken, they couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“What do you mean by alone? I’m sure that if you just ask your brothers if you can join in sparring-”

“They left.”

“...What? What do you mean they left? What about your father? What did he say about this?”

“He left too. They all left me alone in the cottage. Something about being invited to a new server? They sent letters back home for me to read, but they stopped coming in two months ago. Dad and Techno started a nation, I think. The Antarctic Empire, or something. Wilbur started his own, but I think he’s allied with them? It got confusing after a while.”

“L’manburg wasn’t Wilbur’s first country?”

“Forget that, the anarchists started a country?!”

“Letters stopped two months ago? When did they leave you behind?”

“Um, I’m not sure? They left November twenty-second.”

“Wha- Tommy, it’s July fourth! They’ve been gone for almost seven months!

“Wow, really? It’s been that long? Huh, would you look at that! I’m a master survivor!”

“Ow!”

“I still don’t forgive you for that! How could you leave our son behind like that?! For seven months?!”

“Kristin-”

“Don’t, we’ll talk about this later.”

“And you’ve been alone all along? What about our sweet neighbors? Aren’t you best friends with that boy your age?”

“Tubbo went with his dad on a trip a few months back.”

“Schlatt took him on a trip? Huh, weird. And what about Lani?”

“What’s so surprising about that? I can be a loving and cool father, right Tubbo? Lani?”

The two siblings avoided the ram’s gaze, mumbling excuses so they did not need to reply.

“Adopted dad took her on a different trip after she got upset that Schlatt left her behind.”

“Well, count on Jordan to cheer his daughter up.”

“The Captain is cool like that, Mum.”

“You bet he is! Man, I need to go on a trip with him again. He’d love to meet Michael!”

“Knowing dad, he’s gonna freak after seeing that his only son is married and has a child.”

“I think you’re wrong, Lani, dad will be fiiiiiiiiiiinnnnne.”

“Whatever.”

“Well, where are you going, Tommy? Joining them on this new server?”

“I was, but I decided not to.”

“And why not?”

“I was invited to a different server! See?”

Kristin watched as Tommy reopened his satchel, greeting the chicks who napped inside. Carefully pulling out an envelope, he smiled as he pulled out the card. Presenting it to his mother with pride, Tommy giggled with glee as she read the name of the server.

“Dream SMP?”

“Yup! Started back in April, I think? I got the invite a month back, and I’ve been preparing to leave ever since! Isn’t that cool? Someone thinks I’m cool enough to join a server!”

Kristin studied the face of her son, watching as he happily rambled about his plans for the new server. He didn’t fool her, he never could. She knew that despite his excitement, he was lonely and scared. He didn’t want to be alone.

“You’re not going to make me go back to the cottage, are you?”

“You know what? I’ll follow you wherever you choose to go.”

“Really?!”

“Absolutely, my ray of sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you!”

Pure love and happiness filled everyone as Tommy held the chicken close to himself, ignoring the strange looks people gave him as he mumbled his thanks.

“He really loves you, doesn’t he?”

“As do I for him. If I could live every day outside of my realm, I’d be by my family’s side every day.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Now, let’s see this Dream SMP, okay?”

“M’kay!”

-

“You guys left Tommy all by himself when he was nine? Kinda wack, ngl.”

“Did you just verbally abbreviate “not going to lie” in real life?”

“That’s not the point, Sapnap.”

“I know, but still.”

Wilbur refused to speak or look at anyone. He didn’t know why the train brought him and the others here, but he knew that being sat with his family made him uncomfortable. Technoblade just sat beside his twin, messing with his hands as he silently thought things over. Peering at his parents and brother, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had been unfair towards his youngest brother. He didn’t regret doing what he did to L’manburg, the country deserved it. He didn’t regret a thing, no matter what Tommy said or did. He didn’t even know why the voices and his own consciousness felt uneasy by this all, nothing bad hadn’t even occurred yet! It was definitely uncomfortable to feel what Tommy was feeling during these events, but that was the only thing that truly explained his uneasiness.

He watched as his mother whispered to his father, her stare firm and strong. The ex-citizens of L’manburg all conversed with one another, sharing their observations so far. They all shared the same question, he knew this, but only one was brave enough to ask it. Watching as Drista made her way from Lani to Kristin, Techno watched with amusement.

“Excuse me? Mrs. Minecraft? Where is Tommy?”

“Oh, simple! None of us wanted him to revisit all these moments that may be uncomfortable for him, so he’s somewhere safe.”

Before anyone else could ask anything else, they were suddenly overwhelmed with excitement and joy. Turning around they watched as Tommy spawned into a new server, his mother’s chicken in his arms. Petting her head as he looked around, Tommy addressed his small following of chicks and chickens.

“Boys! Welcome to the Dream SMP!”

#The Reluctant Hero's Tale #The Reluctant Hero's Tale AU #Tommy is gremlin child pog