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Reblog so everyone can hear what they need.

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reblog if you made it this far somehow

#don’t know how #but I made it

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This starts out as a nice gesture, then quickly becomes absolutely ridiculous.

1,024 dice. Man.

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Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

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girlie that's not a random headache u are dehydrated malnourished over caffeinated over stressed and sleep deprived

#nooooooo #it’s just a random headache I swear #stress what stress #she says stressfully #as she is stressed

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god's a fucking nerd

oh wait i recognize this i think

#love this #the amazing devil

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i know we’re both just messing around pretending to be whole but look at me. if the train was coming would you move. if the ground was falling from under your feet would you even notice or would it just be another tuesday for you. if somebody stabbed you could it hurt worse than you already do. what i’m saying is that i love you but i think we both drive over the speed limit when it’s raining. what i’m saying is that i want to hold your hand and i understand about how you sometimes have to sit down in the shower. what i’m saying is that i’m here for you and if the train comes please move.

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#polls #tumblr polls #we all call them tongs here #tongs

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January's Rambles Day 7

No rambles today, I'm tired and in too much pain

#january's rambles #no words #gotta love shark week #just let me curl up with a heat pack #pretty please

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After Ifrit

January's Rambles Day 6

Word Count: 1067

After Ifrit

Ifrit was extinguished, but the flames around her weren’t. Zaya shuddered, skin crawling along the edges of new burns, and she breathed in

Ifrit was extinguished, but the flames around her weren’t.

Zaya flopped onto her back. She ignored the way her skin crawled along the edges of new burns, how warm her chainmail felt above the protective padding, the odd angle her tail was caught in beneath her. She just wanted to revel on the feeling of being alive. A victory song warbled out of cracked lips, and she licked them to sooth the sting.

A mistake.

Zaya coughed and gagged as ash and blood coated her tongue. She rolled onto her side, curling into a shaking, shuddering ball despite how much her body did not want her moving right now. Pressing her scarf to her nose, Zaya tried to focus on the faint scent of Tataru’s preferred soap rather than smoke. Her breathing slowly evened out, but it only made the ache in her throat – her hands – her chest – her aether – so much worse. Aether that flared in animal terror as the sound of footsteps reached her horns. Pain was pushed aside as Zaya rolled to find her katana.

The footsteps grew faster, closer.

No, no more – not again!

A whine escaped a tight throat. Her katana appeared under a scrabbling hand, still smouldering from Ifrit’s last strike, and Zaya forced herself to her feet. She darted towards the cavern entrance – towards those footsteps – and at this speed, it didn’t matter that her arms were shaking. Her sword still struck true.

Or at least, it would have. If her target was anyone but Thancred.

The pale-haired man yelped, eyes wide, and caught the blow with his own sword. “Zaya – Zaya, it’s me! It’s Thancred!”

Her mind knew this. It recognised the strange mask on his shoulder, the curling red markings on his neck, the steady sand-over-bedrock of his aetheric signature. But her body didn’t. Her body was still primed for battle. Like this, Thancred wasn’t a safe haven – he was another enemy to defend against, to defeat before he could tear and burn and hurt her. She delivered another crushing blow, sending the man sliding to the side.

“It’s me, Zaya, calm down!”

It’s Thancred, it’s Thancred, her mind hummed, safe-steady-warm.

It’s an enemy, it’s an enemy, her mind yelled, hurt-pain-no-more!

Zaya flipped backwards out of reach, scrabbling at the drained well of her aether reserves. If she could just conjure a shield – heal the wound dripping blood into her boot – catch him in Higanbana –

“Zaya!” Thancred seemed to appear out of nowhere. Air that was once empty was no longer so. Her katana was flicked from her hand. A strong arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her over a hip and slamming her to the ground. Zaya snarled, tail whipping out and around to slam against a restraining leg. Above her came a muffled curse, but she was too busy trying to fight against the forearm stretched across her collarbone, hands clawing at wrist and elbow. Another hand grasped her chin.

“Look at me, Zaya – look at me!”

It was the smell that cut through the panic. Fresh cut wood, Thanalan dust, perfume. “Th-thancred?” The fight went out of her. Limbs went limp. Eyelids began to flutter. Every injury seemed to catch up with her at once, pulsing through her body. A whimper rang through her teeth as her body tensed again. Thancred put more pressure on her chest, legs shifting to better pin hers, hand moving to restrain the end of her tail.

“I – I’m okay, daijoubu,” Zaya relaxed her grip on Thancred and tilted her head forward, breathing in the pine and sand and flower scent, only to flinch from the blood that smeared across her jaw – blood that wasn’t hers. “Daijoubu desu ka, ah, are you – are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“It’s alright, just a scratch,” Thancred soothed, slowly releasing her from the pin to kneel at her side. “Are you back with me now?”

Zaya nodded, leaning back into his supporting hands as he pulled her upright. Head heavy, she couldn’t help but slump forward into Thancred, pressing her face into that space between his neck and shoulder. Mmmm, so warm… The thump-thump of his heartbeat was just wonderful against her horn, and she couldn’t help but tilt her head into it, rubbing scar and scale into the softness of his shirt. Her own racing heart began to slow.

“Whoa there!” Thancred seemed startled by her actions, but not annoyed, given the way he curled an arm around her back. “Don’t go passing out on me now,” he said, “We should get you back to Camp Drybone.”

A grumble vibrated in her chest. Don’t wanna move… Her hand left red and black streaks where she clutched his shirt, and she hummed an apology. Still didn’t want to get up though.

Thancred’s grip changed to resting against her back to being tucked under her arms, and Zaya growled as the man stood, dragging her along. She let her body go limp. Showing off a strength hidden by his loose clothes and charming smiles, Thancred held Zaya straight out from his body like a disgruntled cat. Her feet dangled a good foot from the ground, and she kicked them half-heartedly. Her tail drew little squiggles in the sand. Thancred had a look on his face like he was trying very, very hard not to smile.

“Are you going to keep being difficult?” He asked.

Zaya frowned. “Y’don’t have to help me,” she rumbled, “I can get back to camp.” In a little bit… after I’ve had a nap.

“Uh huh.” Thancred did not seem convinced. He sighed. “Alright, c’mon.”

Zaya didn’t protest as the man drew her in closer, gladly curling arms, legs and tail in against the warmth, but grumbled loudly when he tried to move her elsewhere.

“I’m trying to help you, you silly lizard,” Thancred said, pulling and pushing her limbs until she was curled up against his back, rather than his front. Blood spread across his white shirt, and Zaya pawed at it.

“Sorry ‘bout y’shirt,” she slurred into his collar, “Clean it f’you later, p’omise.”

“Just don’t go falling asleep back there,” Thancred said, deliberately shuffling the grip he hand on her thighs, “And try not to let your tail trip me up, will you?”

To be continued... when I don't have to go to work

#january's rambles #ffxiv #fanfiction #ffxiv thancred #au ra wol #zaya qalli #this is after the Ifrit fight #samuari wol #yes zaya is an eepy baby #and weighs as much as a bunch of grapes #my warrior of light #is a child

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January's Rambles Day 5

Just a word count update this time - wrote 177 words of a HTTYD oneshot I've been working on that I'll probably rewrite and delete another sixteen times, and 325 words of a plan for an original piece (full length or oneshot, I'm not sure)

#january's rambles #personal writing challenge #nothing fun to read today #maybe tomorrow

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Duskull

#pokemon colouring pages #my colouring #pokemon #duskull

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Naruto's Voice

Part One of Who Knows

January's Rambles Day Four

Word Count: 644

Summary: What if Naruto made contact with the Kyuubi years before canon? What if the Kyuubi cared?

Naruto's Voice

The voice was one of the few things that lasted in Naruto’s life. The food sold to him by the grocer would rot away in a day or two. The things the drunks would throw changed by day or hour. Naruto never knew how long he’d be able to play with the other kids before their parents pulled them away. But the voice was always there – always rumbling in the back of his mind.

When the grocer’s handed him milk past its use-by date, the voice would grumble about how, one day, Naruto would get to taste milk fresh from the goat. When the meat squished alarmingly in his hands, it promised to teach him how to catch his own meat, taste the rich flavours of goat and steer and fish. When Naruto travelled home with two weeks’ worth of ramen for a month’s worth of yen, he didn’t think about the repetitive meals in his future, but of sweet berries plucked straight from the bush, fish caught fresh from the stream, crisp vegetables pulled ripe from the earth. Sometimes, while eating his ramen, Naruto imagined he was eating berries and fish and vegetables instead of soggy noodles and broth. Sometimes he could almost taste it.

If the drunks threw rocks, the voice would judge their aim. If the drunks threw half-finished bottles, the voice would scoff about the wasted drink. If the drunks threw harsh words – demon, murderer, freak – the voice would drown them out with nicer ones – treasure, precious, mine. But it was when the rocks and bottles and fists connected that the voice would get angry. Get livid. The voice would howl about those spineless worms, daring to harm my vessel, my treasure, and how they were a waste of chakra and air, not worthy of being in our presence. It would vow to avenge Naruto, to return the pain they caused you a hundred-fold before allowing them the peace of the Shinigami’s embrace, often at a volume that drowned out the violent fantasies of his attackers.

The voice was quieter when Naruto played with other kids. It would stick to deep rumbles as he ran, high yips when he got close to catching someone during tag, a low croon when he tripped and fell, a rolling chuckle when he missed his target. Loud snarls would warn of the parents’ approach. Every cruel word was answered by kinder ones – talented child, brave warrior, precious treasure. Every mean look was answered by a warmth in his stomach and whispered reassurances – you are loved, you are adored, you are wanted. And when Naruto was left alone in the playground, the voice would encourage him to play anyway. See how fast you can climb the tree, it told him, see how many times you can run around the clearing, see how many cartwheels you can do. In the sandpit, Naruto would try and sculpt the voice from its vague instructions – I have four legs, like a cat, and no, my ears are longer, like a pointy rabbit, and my face isn’t so flat, it’s longer than that. It was quiet for a moment when Naruto tried to make a tail. There was an upset feeling in his stomach that didn’t shift until he added another tail, and another, and another – until there was a somewhat-cat shaped creature curled up in the middle of the sandpit, long nose touching the tips of nine tails. By its belly, Naruto placed a tiny little sand-Naruto with tiny seeds for eyes.

The sand-Naruto looked cozy. It looked like it belonged there, protected in the circle of the voice’s body. Longing caught in the real-Naruto’s throat. In the back of his mind, the voice purred and rumbled and promised.

One day, my treasure. One day, I will no longer be caged, and I will grant you everything you deserve.

To be continued... eventually

#January's Rambles #Naruto #fanfic #naruto uzumaki #kyuubi #managed to write today #144 words over which is nice #this has been bouncing around in my head for a while #sorry for the abrupt end #kinda just lost steam

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The Museum's Grand Reopening

Part One

January's Rambles Day Three

Word count: 297

Summary: Drabble about the Express attending the Grand Reopening of the Belobog History and Culture Museum

The Museum's Grand Reopening

“Whoooaaa, it’s so big!” March exclaimed as they walked through the entrance hall towards the museum proper, “No wonder it took Stelle and Pela so long to get everything up and running again!”

“Indeed – they have both worked hard to return the museum to working order,” Dan Heng tugged the younger girl out of the way of another distracted visitor before continuing, “We will have to offer our congratulations when we see them.”

“That’s right, you haven’t seen Stelle yet! You need to see her – she looks so pretty, right Himeko?” March spun around without any consideration of the people around her, and Dan Heng sighed as he caught her waving arm it hit someone.

Himeko chuckled, saying, “Yes, Stelle has cleaned up quite nicely. Bronya arranged for Serval to take her shopping this morning, and March and I helped her get ready earlier. Apparently, there were a few last-minute things to take care of before the opening, so Stelle promised to meet us in the History-Culture Hall in about…” Himeko trailed off, tilting her wrist to check her watch, “20 minutes. That gives us time to browse some of the exhibits first. Does anyone have anything they’d like to look at first?”

Welt cleared his throat politely. “I find myself curious about a sculpture Stelle mentioned in the Industrial Hall – Gears and Wisdom, I believe?”

“We can start there if you’d like, Welt,” Himeko said before turning to her younger companions, “And you two?”

March waved her camera. “Stelle told me to check out some of the paintings! She bet me ten credits that I wouldn’t be able to figure out where they were painted from!”

“I should probably accompany March,” Dan Heng sighed, “I’ll make sure we meet you in the History-Culture Hall on time.”

To be continued... when I'm not throwing up

#January's Rambles #honkai star rail #fanfiction #dan heng #march 7th #hsr himeko #i'm feeling sick #so only little writing today

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Making the Exarch Take a Break

January's Rambles Day Two

Word count: 1484

Summary: Lyna is frustrated with the Exarch's refusal to take a break. Zaya has a solution for that

Making the Exarch Take a Break

The Captain of the Guard was a regular visitor to the Crystal Tower. Those lingering in the vicinity would see her stride back and forth across the Exedra – often going in with food and reports, and leaving with a face of well-restrained frustration. On days where there was… less restraint, the path to the training grounds was quickly cleared.

Today was one such day.

The Captain had entered the Tower not half a bell prior to walking back out, and the guard on duty was quick to alert his fellows to their superior’s bad mood. Lyna was calculating how many training dummies she could afford to replace, and whether it would be cheaper to just go hunting lingering Sin Eaters, when a pink head appeared at her elbow.

“E-excuse me, Captain Lyna?”

With a deep breath, Lyna turned to the diminutive warrior, not for the first time wondering how so much power managed to fit into such a compact form. “Yes? Is all well, Warrior?”

The girl shook her head, then nodded. “There is nothing wrong, I just… Is all well with you?”

Is my frustration so visible? “I am quite well, Warrior. Thank you for your concern.” Lyna turned away – perhaps I will go hunting, rather than waste Crystarium resources – when the Warrior spoke up once more.

“It’s about Ra – G’r – the Exarch, isn’t it?” Despite her stutter, the Warrior looked both confident and understanding. “He isn’t leaving his books? Only eating when you hand it to him, or only when you’re watching? Tells you he’s gonna rest after this chapter, but doesn’t?”

Lyna paused. “You… sound like you have experience with the Exarch’s habits.”

Then the Warrior did something that showed her true age – she sighed, deep and with a full body slump. “Three hundred years, and some things never change. G’raha Tia is one of the most stubborn, bull-headed scholars I have ever met. He doesn’t listen when you tell him to take a break. Instead, you’ve gotta make him.”

Lyna chuckled despite herself. “Unfortunately, making my Lord Exarch rest appears to be beyond my capabilities.”

“You’re plenty capable, Captain Lyna. You just need to remember…” The Warrior blinked up at her innocently, “He’s not just the Lord Exarch.”

(The guard was frozen in shock. When the Warrior first interrupted the Captain, he was sure he was going to have to cover up a murder. But now the two were smiling, and the Captain… the Captain was chuckling! He glanced up at the blue sky. The Warrior of Darkness truly does perform miracles!)

G’raha looked up from his book, blinking rapidly. “Oh, Lyna. Is it time for dinner already?” He could have sworn she had just been in with his lunch. Reaching out discreetly, he felt at his tea cup. Strange, it’s still warm… “Is there something amiss?”

Lyna shook her head. “No, there is nothing wrong my Lord.”

But there was something. Lyna’s passive face would have fooled anyone else, but he had raised the girl. That glint in her eye was one he hadn’t seen since she became Captain of the Guard – a glint that suggested mischief. But what would have inspired such a –

A blur of pink and black dashed past Lyna, appearing at his side just long enough for him to notice a matching mischievous glint in her glowing eyes, before disappearing. G’raha blinked dumbly at the empty space where his staff once was. Musical laughter drew his attention to the door. Lyna was at least polite enough to try and stifled her chuckles behind a hand, but Zaya was almost howling with mirth, leaning heavily on his purloined staff.

“What… is going on?” He said slowly.

“Well, my Lord,” Lyna began as Zaya waved his staff, “I came to inform you of an opportunistic thief who has been making off with many an important tome and artefact. However, it appears that the thief has followed me here.”

As if on cue, Zaya sprinted out through the Occular, staff now strapped to her back.

G’raha stood in alarm. “Naranzaya Qalli, what do you think you’re –”

“Perhaps you should give chase, my Lord.” Lyna said innocently. For a moment G’raha cursed his height, or the lack thereof. He missed the days she was short enough for him to mess up her hair.

“And why can my Captain of the Guard not deal with such a thief herself?” The Lord Exarch asked archly.

“Unfortunately, my Lord, I have already tried and failed. It seems that I am not skilled enough to catch a thief of such a high calibre. Perhaps you could show me how it is done?” Her salute wasn’t as mocking as her tone.

G’raha pouted in a manner quite ill-suited for the leader of a nation-city. “Fine.” He stalked through the door and into the Occular proper. He was having unwelcome flashbacks to his time with NOAH on the Source. Zaya had performed similar antics during the infiltration of the Crystal Tower – once stealing the book he was reading straight out of his hands, and another time hiding pieces of Allagan technology throughout Mor Dhona as revenge for his own actions prior to their first meeting – claiming that he needed more sunlight and fresh air. Probably the inspiration for her current antics, though how she got Lyna on board was another question. Sneaking a glance up at his granddaughter as he walked past, G’raha admitted that she was probably frustrated enough with him to take Zaya up on her suggestion. She must have also told Lyna the aethersand story, he thought with a shudder, given her ‘opportunistic thief’ comment.  

They found Zaya waiting just outside the Tower doors, leaning on the staff and humming under the startled gaze of the door guard. He looked like he was torn between questioning the Warrior of Darkness as to what she was doing with their Lord’s staff, or deciding that it was all above his pay grade and ignoring her. Upon catching sight of Lyna, he decided on the latter.

“Zaya,” G’raha sighed, “Please give me back my staff.”

She tilted her head to the side. “Does it hurt? Not having it close?”

“… no. On Crystarium grounds, I am able to draw upon the Tower’s power without my staff, though it does act as a focus.” He did consider lying to her, but Zaya would have known. She always knew.

Her head tilted in the other direction. Fangs peeked from the corner of her smile. “Hmm. Come and get it then.”

“Zaya, no!” G’raha darted forward, spoken fingers brushing the end of her long ponytail as she lept down the stairs. He growled, using the momentum to follow the girl as she sprinted into the Rotunda. A bouncy tune drifted over her shoulder as she darted towards the right hand hand stairs. She paused, tail twitching in time with her song, before backtracking, leaping over him with the grace of a dragoon to rush madly up the left hand stairs. G’raha’s robes fluttered around his shins as he ran faster than he had in decades. There was a moment of embarrassment – what would my people think, seeing their leader running around like a reckless kit – before the exhilaration of the chase consumed him.

In the Crystaline Mean, they starteled Katliss as they sprinted past the workshop, G’raha throwing apologies over his shoulder even as he admonished Zaya to be more careful you goblin! Zaya laughed, singing louder.

At the Amaro launch, several of the mounts were startled as the Au Ra girl vaulted over them, G’raha being polite enough to run around rather than through. There was a moment when he thought the chase was over – the railing was at her back, the only way out was through him, and he was ready to catch her should she try to leap over him once more – but that girl, that crazy, reckless girl, leapt off the Amaro launch!

He had to take a moment. Hands griping the railing, G’raha watched as Zaya landed delicately in the Exedra, turn around, and wave. He cursed whoever trained her in the way of the Dragoon – they had to be the ones responsible for her sudden, reckless disregard for gravity.

(A world away, a certain dragoon sneezed. He quickly checked his surroundings – none of that strangely threatening pink or yellow – before deciding to move on anyway. Shouldn’t risk being caught yet again by those two demons.)

Watching that patch of pink and black walk calmly into the Musica Universalis, G’raha startled at the sudden touch to his shoulder.

“You are not any closer to catching the thief, lingering here,” Lyna said with a smirk. “Unless my Lord is too tired to continue the pursuit?”

“Never,” G’raha said, pushing away from the railing, “What kind of example would I be setting for the Crystarium if I were to give up the hunt now?”  

To be continued... maybe

#January's Rambles #ffxiv #au ra wol #ffxiv fanfiction #personal writing challenge #I had spare time and inspiration #so I went over my goal #bright spot for today

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#gotta love the silly cats #cats of tumblr #always reblog