#Her mysterious blue holds a story within.

[aclickbaittitle]

Underated Audio-Dramas

Asking for it

A queer contemporary take of the Goldilocks tale: about love, music and breaking the cycle of abuse. Goldie escapes a chaotic childhood only to go from a partner who starves her of love to a partner who nearly drowns her in it, before learning to be just right on her own.

My two-cents: This audio-drama I believe is a most listen for any queer person, but especially for us sapphics that want and/or have been in a relationship. I think not much is said about how women are able to harm you, I remember that AN in "Nothing Burns as Bright as You" as how as a bisexual woman the author was taught to be wary of men, but never of woman and in her experience woman often hurt her the most. I remember being in a school conference talking about domestic abuse but never did it once touch on same-gender couples.

All of this is to say that as a society we often neglect to take a real look at how abuse in queer relationships look like, how they look especially in sapphic and lesbian relationships. So I am entirely greatfull "Asking For It Does".

I am lucky enough to have never been in any situation that Goldie finds herself in and still I feel that I know her story not in short thanks to the amazing writer.

Also the MUSIC, the music in this podcast is amazing, and it is from a real band, that also exists within the podcast. How awesome is that!

Fanwars: The Empire Claps Back

Two passionate Star Wars fans on opposite sides of the Last Jedi debate argue via Skype after their favorite forum closes down. If you love Star Wars (or call yourself a proud member of any fandom), you’ll love this romantic comedy told via conversations.

My two cents: The trials and tribulations of being a POC in fandom, more importantly in starwars fandom and realizing that, "oh damm right, poc can spill the same dung as yt fans". And amazing if straight rom-com. I'll recommend it to anyone who wants to spend an afternoon laughing. It also futures the ever growing in popularity pair of a black woman with an asian man, whom is just slightly of an asshole.

Average Folks

Join your friendly neighborhood Prophetess Terra, and the dysfunctional Chieftain's family as they navigate life, love and creatures of an unusual sort.

My two-cents: I've binge-listened to the 1st season of this podcast. It has surprisingly great worldbuilding even though the story develops in a relatively small town. Terra is a great protagonist to follow around bu the characters that really stand out for me are the kids of the Chief and their own aspirations/conflicts about the place their family has on society. It is a bit politician/rich/monarch apologist though.

Deep Blue Stars

Dr. Indigo Hale treads upon a mysterious island, inhabited by nothing more than crabs and cranes, where they must find a way to make it past impostor syndrome, the strange and wonderful loneliness, and the secret nature of their life's work: the Star Shell.

My two-cents: This podcast came at the precise moment of my life so I always hold it dear to my heart. I was discovering my gender in my own terms, and as always struggling with my never ending loneliness, so Dr. Indigo Hale's rambles were a soothing salve. I'll never forget that excerpt about how they felt no-human growing up, 'cause yeah, maybe is the queernes, or the neuro-divergency but it hit spot on. If you like stories of people getting stranded on a desert-island and then creating a relationship with a non-human thing/animal to survive, you'll really love this.

#audiodrama sunday #podcast recommendations #audio drama #fiction podcast #average folks #deep sea stars #fanwars: the empire claps back #asking for it

[logwire]

The Blue Tale: 'Found Treasure' Through Her Eye

#alecway #Her mysterious blue holds a story within. #blue #elegance #beauty #blue eyes #mysterious #lost item #Waku Chifumii #treasure

[rachel-614]

Okay, let me tell you a story:

Once upon a time, there was a prose translation of the Pearl Poet’s Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. It was wonderfully charming and lyrical and perfect for use in a high school, and so a clever English teacher (as one did in the 70s) made a scan of the book for her students, saved it as a pdf, and printed copies off for her students every year. In true teacher tradition, she shared the file with her colleagues, and so for many years the students of the high school all studied Sir Gawain and the Green Knight from the same (very badly scanned) version of this wonderful prose translation.

In time, a new teacher became head of the English Department, and while he agreed that the prose translation was very wonderful he felt that the quality of the scan was much less so. Also in true teacher tradition, he then spent hours typing up the scan into a word processor, with a few typos here and there and a few places where he was genuinely just guessing wildly at what the scan actually said. This completed word document was much cleaner and easier for the students to read, and so of course he shared it with his colleagues, including his very new wide-eyed faculty member who was teaching British Literature for the first time (this was me).

As teachers sometimes do, he moved on for greener (ie, better paying) pastures, leaving behind the word document, but not the original pdf scan. This of course meant that as I was attempting to verify whether a weird word was a typo or a genuine artifact of the original translation, I had no other version to compare it to. Being a good card-holding gen zillenial I of course turned to google, making good use of the super secret plagiarism-checking teacher technique “Quotation Marks”, with an astonishing result:

By which I mean literally one result.

For my purposes, this was precisely what I needed: a very clean and crisp scan that allowed me to make corrections to my typed edition: a happily ever after, amen.

But beware, for deep within my soul a terrible Monster was stirring. Bane of procrastinators everywhere, my Curiosity had found a likely looking rabbit hole. See, this wonderfully clear and crisp scan was lacking in two rather important pieces of identifying information: the title of the book from which the scan was taken, and the name of the translator. The only identifying features were the section title “Precursors” (and no, that is not the title of the book, believe me I looked) and this little leaf-like motif by the page numbers:

(Remember the leaf. This will be important later.)

We shall not dwell at length on the hours of internet research that ensued—how the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, grading abandoned in shadows half-lit by the the blue glow of the computer screen—how google search after search racked up, until an email warning of “unusual activity on your account” flashed into momentary existence before being consigned immediately and with some prejudice to the digital void—how one third of the way through a “comprehensive but not exhaustive” list of Sir Gawain translators despair crept in until I was left in utter darkness, screen black and eyes staring dully at the wall.

Above all, let us not admit to the fact that such an afternoon occurred not once, not twice, but three times.

Suffice to say, many hours had been spent in fruitless pursuit before a new thought crept in: if this book was so mysterious, so obscure as to defeat the modern search engine, perhaps the answer lay not in the technologies of today, but the wisdom of the past. Fingers trembling, I pulled up the last blast email that had been sent to current and former faculty and staff, and began to compose an email to the timeless and indomitable woman who had taught English to me when I was a student, and who had, after nearly fifty years, retired from teaching just before I returned to my alma mater.

After staring at the email for approximately five or so minutes, I winced, pressed send, and let my plea sail out into the void. I cannot adequately describe for you the instinctive reverence I possess towards this teacher; suffice to say that Ms English was and is a woman of remarkable character, as much a legend as an institution as a woman of flesh and blood whose enduring influence inspired countless students. There is not a student taught by Ms. English who does not have a story to tell about her, and her decline in her last years of teaching and eventual retirement in the face of COVID was the end of an era. She still remembers me, and every couple months one of her contemporaries and dear friends who still works as a guidance counsellor stops me in the hall to tell me that Ms. English says hello and that she is thrilled that I am teaching here—thrilled that I am teaching honors students—thrilled that I am now teaching the AP students. “Tell her I said hello back,” I always say, and smile.

Ms. English is a legend, and one does not expect legends to respond to you immediately. Who knows when a woman of her generation would next think to check her email? Who knows if she would remember?

The day after I sent the email I got this response:

My friends, I was shaken. I was stunned. Imagine asking God a question and he turns to you and says, “Hold on one moment, let me check with my predecessor.”

The idea that even Ms. English had inherited this mysterious translation had never even occurred to me as a possibility, not when Ms. English had been a faculty member since the early days of the school. How wonderful, I thought to myself. What a great thing, that this translation is so obscure and mysterious that it defeats even Ms. English.

A few days later, Ms. English emailed me again:

(I had, in fact searched through both the English office and the Annex—a dark, weirdly shaped concrete storage area containing a great deal of dust and many aging copies of various books—a few days prior. I had no luck, sadly.)

At last, though, I had a title and a description! I returned to my internet search, only to find to my dismay that there was no book that exactly matched the title. I found THE BRITISH TRADITION: POETRY, PROSE, AND DRAMA (which was not black and the table of contents I found did not include Sir Gawain) and THE ENGLISH TRADITION, a super early edition of the Prentice Hall textbooks we use today, which did have a black cover but there were absolutely zero images I could find of the table of contents or the interior and so I had no way of determining if it was the correct book short of laying out an unfortunate amount of cold hard cash for a potential dead end.

So I sighed, and relinquished my dreams of solving the mystery. Perhaps someday 30 years from now, I thought, I’ll be wandering through one of those mysterious bookshops filled with out of print books and I’ll pick up a book and there will be the translation, found out last!

So I sighed, and told the whole story to my colleagues for a laugh. I sent screenshots of Ms. English’s emails to my siblings who were also taught by her. I told the story to my Dad over dinner as my Great Adventure of the Week.

…my friends. I come by my rabbit-hole curiosity honestly, but my Dad is of a different generation of computer literacy and knows a few Deep Secrets that I have never learned. He asked me the title that Ms. English gave me, pulled up some mysterious catalogue site, and within ten minutes found a title card. There are apparently two copies available in libraries worldwide, one in Philadelphia and the other in British Columbia. I said, “sure, Dad,” and went upstairs. He texted me a link. Rolling my eyes, I opened it and looked at the description.

Huh, I thought. Four volumes, just like Ms. English said. I wonder…

Armed with a slightly different title and a publisher, I looked up “The English Tradition: Fiction macmillan” and the first entry is an eBay sale that had picture of the interior and LO AND BEHOLD:

THE LEAF. LOOK AT THE LEAF.

My dad found it! He found the book!!

Except for one teensy tiny problem which is that the cover of the book is uh a very bright green and not at all black like Ms. English said. Alas, it was a case of mistaken identity, because The English Tradition: Poetry does have a black cover, although it is the fiction volume which contains Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

And so having found the book at last, I have decided to purchase it for the sum of $8, that ever after the origins of this translation may once more be known.

In this year of 2022 this adventure took place, as this post bears witness, the end, amen.

(Edit: See here for part 2!)

#sir gawain and the green knight #translations #internet research #english literature #teaching things #dads are the best #long post #story telling #I STILL don’t know the name of the translator but I WILL find out #obscure books

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello there! I hope you're healthy and well! And oh, I loooveee your writings! They're always great ^_^

Anyways, I would like to request. It's Wednesday Addams x fem!reader. So let's just say Wednesday has feelings for the reader. But she doesn't know how to tell her. And I would love to know how she would react if she saw the reader was being kissed by Xavier. Just love a little bit of angst 😎

That's all, thank you for reading my request!! XOXOXO

Feelings were a fickle subject when it came to Wednesday Addams, despite growing up with two parents whom were blatantly enamoured with one another and didn’t seem to hold no shame in showing their love either. However just because she was the child of Gomez and Morticia didn’t exactly meant that their affiliations for love were an inheritable trait for her to have. However despite believing herself to be as emotionally dead as the dearly departed buried six feet under their own graves, you elicit reactions within Wednesday that made her believe that she was either sick or subsuming to an early death.

The fluttering within her stomach whenever you stood close by enough for her to manage to catch a whiff of what you were wearing that morning; Lavender and and body spray, she would note later on as she found herself burning away the midnight oil one night, describing the scent of an additional character to her novel. She would remove all traces of the character but she had soon found out that she had written so much dialogue between viper and this character; So much so that the plot portrays their coming together in joining forces as a chance of fate in solving the mystery. For Wednesday to remove your insert character from her novel would be to set herself back a couple of pages, possibly chapters, because your character suddenly became a vital part of her story out of the blue and she had already advanced so far with the story that it would just seem like wasted effort.

Another thing Wednesday would always be subconsciously reminded of in her moments of silent reprieve was the way in which her cheeks would heat up whenever you smiled, laughed or outwardly complimented her. She never once cared about what others thought about her nor her personality but it seemed that the moment you started to speak of her in such high praise, that’s when she began to feel herself crave your validation. Wednesday didn’t care how you did it but she just wanted you to praise her, compliment her to high heavens and no one else. She naturally hated how she craved something she openly voiced not caring about but yet here she was, acting the hypocrite just for your appraisal.

She even often found herself actively searching for you in the quad before classes like a puppy dog looking for it’s owner. It was pathetic but recently Wednesday observed that she seemed to go against her own code whenever you nearby. She hated being craved and stalked by others yet she was subconsciously doing the same thing to you but going about it within a more subtle manner; Such as keeping a seat saved for you in the classes that you share, going so far as to threaten bodily harm on fellow students in swapping jobs with her so that she could be with you during outreach day and last but not least, participating in the Poe Cup when and only when you were participating.

Enid had her suspicions that Wednesday had feelings for you but never dared to voice them until one day when she returned to her dorm to find Wednesday awkwardly standing there, picking at her chipped nail polish. Before the blonde could speak up, Wednesday beaten her to the punch by asking a question Enid never thought she’d ever hear her ask. “What…does it mean to like someone?” Enid wanted to scream Ophelia Hall down because her intuition about Wednesday had been right. However Enid knew she’d have to save the celebration for later as she had a friend to help in navigating her feelings, so she took a deep breath and sat herself down on her colourful bedding, smiling at her morbid dorm mate. “Who’s the lucky guy, girl and or person?”

The pair talked late into the night and by the time morning had came, Wednesday felt the overwhelming urge to rid herself from pining after you from afar and instead act upon her feelings. Unfortunately, due to her lack of experience within this field, she didn’t exactly know the best way to go about conveying her feelings towards you without potentially scaring you off into the arms of someone else. Who’d knew that the one thing that Wednesday couldn’t seem to comprehend was the fact that she had actual feelings other then disgust, dismay and the obvious morbidity? Wednesday definite didn’t and she was left perplexed at her desk, her head buried in her hands as she raked her nails down her face, leaving red marks in their wake as she attempted to find a possibility in where she could express her emotions that wouldn’t require so much effort being drawn from her.

This new sensation was thrilling to the young Addams as found herself brainstorming a thousand ideas a minute, a majority of which were crumpled up into wads of paper that were then discarded to the black metallic waste bin she kept beside her desk. None of them were good enough for you, she would tell herself the more she drove herself to sheer madness within the thicket of her research. It didn’t have to be perfect, it didn’t have to be a spectacle for others to bask in, overcrowding her moment with their attendance. It just has to be enough for you and to Wednesday by osmosis. However there was one minute detail that Wednesday seemed to have deemed unimportant or intentionally skimmed over due to it’s irrelevance in her grand scheme; Xavier Thorpe.

The boy clung to you like a babe does to their mother. His arm would permanently be seen over your shoulder, drawing you into his side as he spoke to the gorgon, Ajax. Wednesday also didn’t take into account how whenever she saved you seat in class, Xavier would immediately bolt for the spare seat beside yours as he began to animate the doodles on his sheet of paper, watching as they scampered up your arm and burrowed themselves into the collar of your shirt before eventually clambering back down and retreating into the blank sheet of paper once the teacher had entered the room. Even during the Poe Cup Xavier seemed to take it easier on you then compared to the rest of your team, even going so far as to giving you a head start.

Once Wednesday had achieved victory your team, instead of moping and complaining over his teams loss, Xavier only beamed at you with pride as you celebrated with Enid and Wednesday, whom you had slung your arms over the moment you three crossed the finish line; Smiling so widely and bright that he couldn’t help but engrave your happiness into his mind that would later be splayed out on that blank canvas later that evening. Xavier’s constant need to be by your side extended to school events such as Outreach day, where he’d peak over your shoulder at the job you had been given before scavenging the crowd for someone with a matching job and then sweet talking them into trading; Sometimes he -if lucky enough- would have been assigned to the same job as you through pure coincidence.

When the faithful day where Wednesday would finally confess to you finally came, her seemingly dead heart stopped when she caught sight of you and Xavier in the courtyard, standing closely together with his hands gingerly cusping your cheeks as you melt into his touch as though you were the candle wax to his flame; He was uttering sweet nothings and you were obviously moved by them as your hands instinctually reached to grab ahold of the lapels of his blazer, tugging at him in a silent plea for him to step closer despite being pressed up against you another as humanly possible. Xavier was thriving off of your reaction whilst Wednesday was trying to cast her gaze elsewhere but found herself forced to watch as the boy pressed his lips against yours.

Xavier’s golden brown locks acted as a curtain for the both of you as it fell from his shoulders and brushed against your cheek, hiding the fact that you were very much taken by his actions as your hands gripped his lapels tighter while his hands wandered to find home at your sides. That day Wednesday Addams understood what the sound a shattered heart makes.

#wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday Addams imagines #Wednesday Addams imagine #Wednesday Addams fic #Wednesday Addams x you #wednesday x reader #Wednesday imagines #Wednesday imagine #Wednesday fic #Wednesday x you #Wednesday fanfic

[carmillascrusade]

Of Eden | Larissa Weems x f!reader

Images do not belong to me.

Summary: You stumble upon a clandestine meeting in the forest between robed figures and their enigmatic leader. What happens when she spots you?

Word count: 1,335

A/N: This is going to be a multi chapter fic so this chapter is really just a set up to the other parts. I was also supposed to post this on Christmas Eve lmao.

The earth hummed in discomfort, creatures of the forest cowering in dimly lit corners, fearful of every small noise in the otherwise silence of the night. You stumbled through a thick layer of tri-coloured leaves blanketing the floor, magnificent shades of red and amber unable to be seen properly under the slither of moonlight peaking through the gaps in the canopy. The frigid air was thick with an eerie tension, unease settling deep within your bones as your boots crushed the leaves beneath them.

Soft crunches followed your path as you traversed deeper into the wooded area, trees growing and twisting into sinister shapes the further you progressed.

Stopping in your place, you strained your ears, trying to pick up any sound at all; the usual song of the crickets was not playing tonight. Low chants in a strange, unfamiliar language called out to you, drawing you in like a siren would her prey. The flickering glow of torchlight basked a circular clearing in fiery hues. An alter stood in the centre of twelve hooded figures, archaic runes etched into the sides and top of the stone table.

A thirteenth figure clad in blood red garments emerged from the gloomy shadows, their stature and clothing a stark contrast to the twelve robed in a pure white. With great confidence the person, who you thought to be the leader, strode up to the alter. Reaching into the depths of their robes, a pale hand emerged from the void with a dagger in tow.

Sparkling under the firelight, rubies glimmered against the gold handle of the dagger, like stars shining under the cover of nightfall. Intricate metal work adorned the handle of it, two snakes twisted around each other in a fatal dance. The dagger itself shone under the attention of the moonlight, the metal pure and strong.

Placing the dagger down onto the alter, the red figure slowly pulled back their hood, urging the others to do the same. Platinum hair revealed itself inch by inch, striking features and icy blue eyes only accentuated by the frigid hue of this mysterious woman’s hair. The woman was enigmatic as she stood towering above the others, alluring for reasons unknown. She stood as a clandestine haven, a whispering secret echoing within the garden of Eden, tempting those unfortunate enough to lay their eyes upon her. Tempting you.

Her presence carried the fragrance of unexplored wonders, her gaze tempestuous, holding the secrets of forbidden fruits. The aura she emanated cradled the beauty of a hidden sanctuary, but also elicited the utmost fear you feel when stranded in a place unknown.

She grinned at her companions, or should you say followers? Chills ran through your spine as the hair on your neck stood to attention, her grin unlike anything you had encountered; inhuman and slightly deranged. Yet her eyes were soft, holding copious amounts of wisdom behind them, hinting at the untold stories beneath the surface- stories out of reach.

Encountering the strange gathering in the clearing was akin to stumbling upon an ancient garden, lush and full of promise. Something so surreal and dream-like that you had to be dreaming. But you were not, and where things grow, things rot. The nagging voice in the back of your mind a reminder that something wasn’t right, no matter how enchanting they may seem.

Hidden in the shadows you observed the scene before you, grotesque shadows periodically casting themselves upon the hooded figures before retreating back to depths; the pristine robes void of colour unmarred once more. The air was charged with an energy not known to this world.

A small goat was brought forth, passed to the silver haired woman and placed on the stone table. Your breath caught in your throat as you continued to watch, torn between fleeing or enlightening yourself to secrets unveiled if you stayed hidden.

You were no fool. You knew what was going to happen.

The woman cooed sweet nothings, calming the goat as you would a child. Luring it into a false sense of security before it inevitably reached its fate. You watched in horror as she brought the dagger to the goats neck, swiping in a quick yet efficient motion. Archaic chants grew louder as time ticked on, drowning out every other sound in the wooded area.

You carded through the underbrush as silent as a mouse, desperate to get a closer look at this magnificent woman and her cult, an invisible string pulling you in closer. Closer. Until you were at the end of the tree line, crouched and still hidden, but able to see and hear everything clearly.

The woman stood even taller from this perspective, lithe frame blocking the candlelight, dousing the alter in an inky darkness. She spoke with such passions, such charisma that you couldn’t help but be enraptured by her. Her hands swayed slightly as she spoke, tiptoeing the line between dance and complete stillness. Honeyed words slithered off her tongue in a southern British accent, sweet and tempting.

Your stomach twisted and you knew it was time to flee. Anxiously, your turned around to look for a quick escape route, cautious to turn your back on the cult for more than two seconds. What you weren’t expecting, however, was those icy blue eyes staring into your own from where she stood. Your eyes widened in shock, heart beating so rapidly that you thought it would give out under the stress. Scrambling up from your crouched position, you turned tail and ran back down the path you took to get to the clearing.

You glanced behind your shoulder, eyes wide with fear as a group of six pursued you relentlessly. Their faces obscured by the darkness due to the very little light allowed through the thick canopy. Your footsteps echoes louder, the pounding of your heart matching the rhythm of your steps. The Forrest seemed to be against you, a labyrinth of twists and turns obscuring you way, making it even more difficult to find an escape route.

The menacing presence of the six tailing you grew more intense as they got closer to you. You threw yourself to the floor in a desperate attempt to escape the figure that lunged out to grab you, bony fingers digging into the skin of your ankle. You cried out in anguish, whether that be because of the pain inflicted on you or the fact you had been caught was questionable. Twigs and leaves knotted themselves in your hair, gripping on with such vigour, as you were dragged across the floor.

The hooded figures huffed in as you began to cry softly, bone rattling sobs wracking your body as you trembled, petrified. What was going to happen to you? Were you to be sacrificed just as the goat had been mere moments ago? Your thoughts were cut short as two of the people hauled you up by your shoulders. You marvelled at their strength. Surely it shouldn’t be possible to carry you by your armpits alone. Nevertheless, your wonder was cut short as the dread set in.

You were being taken back to their leader.

You couldn’t breathe, the forest began to spin around you; trees swirling into an array of different patterns, similar to how a kaleidoscope twists and turns to distort real life numerous times. You felt as if you were underwater, your hearing muffled as an invisible weight bore down on your chest. Pushing, pushing, until the weight became too much and breathing became extremely difficult. Panicking at your inability to breathe, your body went into overdrive, breathes coming out short but fast, trying to compensate for the lack of oxygen you were taking in.

The world as you knew it spun to black. Shades of faded grey and other dull hues swarming your vision. The last thing you seeing being those piercing blue eyes, staring into you own, before your body went limp, mind blank as you succumb to familiar hold of darkness.

A/NII: I can’t help but find writing descriptively boring. But I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

#wednesday 2022 #larissa x reader #larissa weems #larissa x you #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #gwendoline christie

[thegeyisshowing]

Oh, baby....

Fluff level 10000000%

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Summary: Your wife Larissa and you sit down and have a talk. Absolute fluff and more chapters to come!

Warnings: None

Chapter 1: Did you just say that?

Y/n and Larissa stood hand in hand, their fingers entwined like the roots of two ancient trees. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the idyllic countryside just outside of Nevermore where they had chosen to build their life together.

It had been three years since they had exchanged vows under a canopy of oak trees, surrounded by their closest friends and family. The two had joined their lives in a union that defied conventions and captured hearts from everyone around, even their students.

Their love had grown stronger with each passing day, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. The students and other teachers gossiped about them "sneaking around," but they paid no attention. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

As they strolled through the lush meadow that stretched out behind their charming farmhouse, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness. She looked up at her beloved Larissa, whose striking blue eyes sparkled with an undeniable joy.

"Lissa," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. Every day with you feels like a dream come true."

Larissa squeezed your hand gently and smiled down at her. "Honey, you are my everything. I cherish every moment we share together."

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a sense of anticipation, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next chapter of their story to unfold.

That evening, after a delicious homemade dinner, the couple sat together on their cozy porch swing, gazing up at the summer starlit sky. Y/N nestled her head against Larissa's shoulder, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

As the night went on, you turned to your wife with a mysterious glint in her eye. "Lissa, I have something to ask you," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You looked up as your heart raced. "What is it, my love? You're making me curious."

A slow, radiant smile spread across your face. "I think... I think I want to have a baby."

Time seemed to stand still as Larissa processed your words. Her eyes widened with disbelief and then overflowed with tears of joy. She threw her arms around you, holding you tightly.

"Oh, Y/N, you've just made me the happiest person in the world!" Larissa exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "A baby? Our baby? As in you want to make a mini us?"

You nodded, your own eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, Lissa, our baby. I have been really thinking about it, and it feels like there is a hole right here." You pointed to your chest and looked down. "Like I can't stop the dreams, and honestly, I don't want to. I know I said I didn't want kids, but this big house needs little feet running around. And so do I." You told her the last bit was almost a whisper.

"My love, I never wanted to push you, but I want that too. But I would sacrifice that to be with you. Are you completely positive you want to do this? She looked deep into your eyes, and you whispered, "Absolutely honey"

The night sky seemed to shimmer with newfound magic as you held each other, envisioning the beautiful journey that lay ahead. Your love, which had already defied so many odds, was now blossoming into a new chapter, one filled with hope, dreams, and the promise of a family of your own.

Little did you two know that this tiny miracle soon to be growing within you would bring the two of you even closer together, forging an unbreakable bond that would transcend all challenges. A true love story, which had captured the schools' full attention, was about to become even more extraordinary as they embarked on the adventure of parenthood.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #baby #larissa x y/n #Larissa x wife!reader #fanfiction #original story

[yourgaeyisshowing]

Oh, baby....

Fluff level 10000000%

Pairing: Larissa Weems x Wife!reader

Summary: Your wife Larissa and you sit down and have a talk. Absolute fluff and more chapters to come!

Warnings: None

Chapter 1: Did you just say that?

Y/n and Larissa stood hand in hand, their fingers entwined like the roots of two ancient trees. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the idyllic countryside just outside of Nevermore where they had chosen to build their life together.

It had been three years since they had exchanged vows under a canopy of oak trees, surrounded by their closest friends and family. The two had joined their lives in a union that defied conventions and captured hearts from everyone around, even their students.

Their love had grown stronger with each passing day, a testament to the undeniable connection they shared. The students and other teachers gossiped about them "sneaking around," but they paid no attention. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

As they strolled through the lush meadow that stretched out behind their charming farmhouse, Y/N's heart swelled with happiness. She looked up at her beloved Larissa, whose striking blue eyes sparkled with an undeniable joy.

"Lissa," Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. Every day with you feels like a dream come true."

Larissa squeezed your hand gently and smiled down at her. "Honey, you are my everything. I cherish every moment we share together."

The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it a sense of anticipation, as if nature itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next chapter of their story to unfold.

That evening, after a delicious homemade dinner, the couple sat together on their cozy porch swing, gazing up at the summer starlit sky. Y/N nestled her head against Larissa's shoulder, feeling a sense of peace wash over her.

As the night went on, you turned to your wife with a mysterious glint in her eye. "Lissa, I have something to ask you," she said, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

You looked up as your heart raced. "What is it, my love? You're making me curious."

A slow, radiant smile spread across your face. "I think... I think I want to have a baby."

Time seemed to stand still as Larissa processed your words. Her eyes widened with disbelief and then overflowed with tears of joy. She threw her arms around you, holding you tightly.

"Oh, Y/N, you've just made me the happiest person in the world!" Larissa exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion. "A baby? Our baby? As in you want to make a mini us?"

You nodded, your own eyes brimming with tears. "Yes, Lissa, our baby. I have been really thinking about it, and it feels like there is a hole right here." You pointed to your chest and looked down. "Like I can't stop the dreams, and honestly, I don't want to. I know I said I didn't want kids, but this big house needs little feet running around. And so do I." You told her the last bit was almost a whisper.

"My love, I never wanted to push you, but I want that too. But I would sacrifice that to be with you. Are you completely positive you want to do this? She looked deep into your eyes, and you whispered, "Absolutely honey"

The night sky seemed to shimmer with newfound magic as you held each other, envisioning the beautiful journey that lay ahead. Your love, which had already defied so many odds, was now blossoming into a new chapter, one filled with hope, dreams, and the promise of a family of your own.

Little did you two know that this tiny miracle soon to be growing within you would bring the two of you even closer together, forging an unbreakable bond that would transcend all challenges. A true love story, which had captured the schools' full attention, was about to become even more extraordinary as they embarked on the adventure of parenthood.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #baby #larissa x y/n #Larissa x wife!reader #fanfiction #original story

[sicutpuella]

Desiderium [Tom Riddle x Original Character]

Chapter 0: Grim Old Place

Within the somber confines of 12 Grimmauld Place, an ancient dwelling tinged with an air of mystery, Harry Potter stood with his senses heightened, attuned to every whisper and rustle that permeated the shadowed halls. This place, steeped in the ancestral legacy of the noble House of Black, seemed to hold secrets within its very walls. It was in this hallowed abode, at the dawn of a new chapter in his extraordinary journey, that Harry heard a voice—a voice that beckoned to him from the depths of the unknown.

Harry Potter, the fabled wizard of renown, turned swiftly, his emerald eyes scanning the room in search of the enigmatic voice that had addressed him. To his astonishment, he found himself beholding a woman, whose ethereal beauty captivated his senses. Claudia Rosier, a bewitching figure, stood before him.

"Harry Potter, finally in the flesh!" she uttered, her voice resonating with a blend of anticipation and delight. The words, a mere handful, hung in the air, carrying with them a weight that stirred within Harry an inexplicable mix of curiosity and fascination. Her tresses, a resplendent cascade of dark crimson, differed from the ginger hues known to the Weasley clan. It was as if her hair possessed a bewitching charm, casting its spell upon all who dared to gaze upon its allure. Yet it was her eyes that held Harry transfixed—a striking shade of electric blue, vibrant orbs that seemed to penetrate the depths of his very soul.

Though the passage of years had marked her countenance, Claudia's allure remained undiminished. Her visage bore the traces of a life well-lived, etched with lines that added a touch of elegance to her graceful face. Towering above most in the room, she possessed an imposing stature, her regal presence exceeding the height of Harry himself. It was evident that she hailed from a privileged upbringing, a scion of the uppermost echelons of society.

As she uttered his name, her voice carried a gentleness that caressed his ears. Yet her refined accent hinted at a pedigree steeped in refinement and opulence. Every aspect of Claudia's being exuded an air of meticulous grooming, while a captivating fragrance enveloped her, enchanting those within its proximity. Her posture, straight and commanding, radiated both power and wisdom, as if she had long mastered the arts of authority.

In this extraordinary encounter, Claudia Rosier embodied a mesmerizing presence, a tapestry woven from the threads of ageless beauty and refined sophistication. Harry found himself spellbound by her very essence, the allure of a woman whose charms transcended time itself. Claudia Rosier's presence did not go unnoticed by Harry's faithful companions, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. As if summoned by an invisible force, they gravitated towards the enchanting figure that held their friend spellbound.

Ron, with his hair as fiery as the sun's golden rays, and Hermione, her countenance bright with intellect and determination, approached Claudia with a mix of curiosity and reverence. The twins, Fred and George, ever mischievous and quick-witted, joined the gathering, their eyes widening as they beheld the radiant beauty before them. Claudia's captivating aura transcended the boundaries of age, captivating all who gazed upon her with a mystifying allure. Her dark crimson locks cascaded like a silken tapestry, captivating even the mischievous twins, whose gazes momentarily faltered under her bewitching spell. Her eyes, an iridescent blue, seemed to hold within their depths a wellspring of wisdom and secrets, whispering untold stories to those who dared to look deeply enough.

Ron, his freckled countenance flushed with a mixture of awe and admiration, struggled to find the words to capture the essence of this ethereal presence. Hermione, her eyes sparkling with an inquisitive light, observed Claudia with an astute curiosity, her mind working tirelessly to unravel the enigma that stood before them. As the companions stood in the presence of Claudia Rosier, her allure resonated with an undeniable magnetism, evoking a symphony of emotions and intrigue. The air crackled with an undercurrent of anticipation, as if destiny itself had woven its tapestry around this meeting, entangling their lives in a web of unforeseen possibilities.

In this sacred gathering, amidst the aged tapestries and ancestral secrets, Claudia Rosier cast her spell upon the hearts and minds of those who beheld her, leaving an indelible mark upon their souls. The threads of fate intertwined, as the companions embarked upon a journey that would forever be intertwined with the enigmatic presence of Claudia, a woman whose beauty transcended the realms of mortal comprehension.

Sirius Black, with his boisterous laughter, shattered the silence that had settled upon the room, drawing the attention of the spellbound teenagers. His voice boomed with mirth as he spoke, bringing forth the revelation of the esteemed presence that had graced them all.

"Ah, I've seen you've met our special guest!" Sirius exclaimed, his jovial tone resonating through the ancient halls of 12 Grimmauld Place. "The honorable Claudia Rosier! The head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Head of Magical Artifacts!"

At the utterance of the name Rosier, a collective recognition flickered in Harry's mind. It was a name that bore significance, for it was etched in the annals of infamy, belonging to those who had sworn allegiance to the Dark Lord. The Rosiers, notorious for their unwavering devotion to blood purity, were revered amongst the ranks of the Death Eaters. Yet, there was a complexity to their lineage—an undeniable wealth and influence that flowed through their veins. The noble Rosiers, as they were known, had established themselves as pillars of the wizarding elite.

With a graceful inclination of her head, Claudia Rosier acknowledged the young ones before her. A subtle air of dignity surrounded her, as if the weight of her position and the legacy of her name lent her an aura of quiet authority. With measured steps, she made her way toward the beckoning dining room of Grimmauld Place, joined by the other venerable members of the household.

In the wake of her departure from the hall, a mingling of emotions stirred within the hearts of the young wizards and witches left behind. A tapestry of intrigue and curiosity unfolded, woven with threads of apprehension. The presence of Claudia Rosier, a living embodiment of the complexities that entwined pureblood heritage and dark alliances, cast an enigmatic shadow upon the path that lay ahead. As they prepared to partake in the familial feast, the air thickened with unspoken questions, and the companions found themselves drawn further into the intricate web of secrets and destinies that bound them together within the hallowed chambers of Grimmauld Place.

In hushed tones, Ron Weasley leaned toward Harry Potter, his voice barely above a whisper, as if fearful of disturbing the delicate balance of the room. "A Rosier, Harry? Is she not of the same kind as... you-know-who's followers? One of those staunch believers in blood purity?" Hermione Granger, ever the fountain of knowledge, displayed a similar reaction, her expression etched with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

The trio, accompanied by the mischievous Fred and George Weasley, advanced into the opulent dining hall of Grimmauld Place, where Claudia Rosier occupied the seat of honor. There she sat, an embodiment of elegance and poise, her back held erect with a refined grace. The atmosphere seemed to shift, charged with an air of anticipation, as if the very room itself acknowledged her presence and yielded to her authority.

Their footsteps faltered for a fleeting moment, halted by the weight of their contemplation. The mere mention of the Rosier name sent ripples of unease through their collective consciousness, for it was synonymous with allegiance to the dark forces that had threatened their world. The Rosiers, a family entangled in the web of you-know-who's gang, had long espoused the ideals of blood purity, their beliefs steeped in tradition and exclusivity.

And yet, even in the face of their reservations, the trio pressed on, curiosity mingling with caution as they approached the table where Claudia held court. The resolute determination that guided their steps belied the doubts that churned within. Inwardly, they prepared themselves to navigate the intricacies of this encounter, to glean what truths lay concealed behind the veneer of elegance and power.

As they drew nearer, the allure of Claudia Rosier's presence intensified. Her poised countenance, an embodiment of regality, invited admiration and respect. Every line and curve of her figure spoke of confidence and authority, a testament to the depths of her experience and knowledge. The trio, accompanied by the ever-watchful twins, took their places at the table, the gravity of the moment hanging heavy in the air.

Amidst the resplendent atmosphere of the dining hall, an air of reunion pervaded the space, embracing all who gathered within its opulent confines. Nymphadora Tonks, the ever-capricious metamorphagus, regaled the younger attendees with her remarkable talents, effortlessly transforming her countenance into a succession of creatures—a duck, a pig, a lion—eliciting peals of laughter and delight. Even Claudia Rosier, a paragon of grace and refinement, found herself captivated by the whimsical display. Meanwhile, a distinguished assembly had formed on the side of the table, where Claudia sat alongside Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, Remus Lupin, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Engrossed in earnest discussion, their attention focused upon the pressing concerns plaguing the Ministry of Magic—specifically, the obstinate denial of Lord Voldemort's resurgence by the deluded Cornelius Fudge.

"What purpose does it serve to sugarcoat the truth?" Moody interjected brusquely, his words reverberating through the hall and punctuating the conversation. The room fell into an uneasy silence, as the weight of his statement hung heavy in the air, casting a somber pall over the gathering.

"Alastor," Claudia chided gently, her voice a soothing balm that sought to quell the mounting tension. But Moody, unyielding in his resolve, persisted. "Show him! The boy will discover the truth soon enough, one way or another."

As if in response to their exchange, a gentle hand extended toward Harry, bearing a newspaper with the front page emblazoned by a striking headline: "The Boy Who Lies." The words cast a shadow over the young wizard's countenance, stirring a mix of emotions within him—an amalgamation of defiance, frustration, and an unwavering determination to confront the harsh realities that lay ahead.

Amidst the distinguished company gathered within the walls of Grimmauld Place, the weighty matters of the day weighed heavily upon their minds. Cornelius Fudge, a figure of authority wielding power and influence over the Daily Prophet, had employed his position to suppress any claims of Lord Voldemort's menacing return. Sirius Black, his voice resolute, interjected with an air of defiance, breaking the silence that enveloped the room.

"Why?" Harry Potter, his disbelief palpable, queried in a tone laced with incredulity, his faith in the integrity of those in positions of power momentarily shaken.

Remus Lupin, a sage presence amid the assembly, endeavored to shed light upon the perplexing matter. "The Ministry suspects that Dumbledore seeks to usurp Fudge's position," he explained, his words tinged with a hint of weariness. "They harbor a deep-seated fear that compels them to perceive threats where none exist."

"But that’s insane! No one in their right mind could ever—" Harry retorted, his disbelief tinged with a note of righteous indignation. The flagrant incompetence of Fudge and the Ministry's willful ignorance stretched the bounds of reason, testing the limits of their patience and resolve.

"Indeed," Claudia interjected, her voice carrying a measured tone that bespoke wisdom earned through the passage of time. "Fear possesses the power to distort minds and drive individuals to commit unspeakable acts. Fudge's faculties have been compromised, clouded by the very dread that should impel him to action."

With a somber gaze fixed upon Harry, Claudia continued her discourse. "The last time Lord Voldemort seized power, our world trembled on the precipice of destruction. We cannot afford to dismiss that grim reality, nor can the Ministry, in their misguided attempts to pacify the masses, ignore the imminent threat that looms before us."

Sirius, unwavering in his resolve, added his voice to the somber discussion. "We believe that Voldemort seeks to rebuild his formidable army, just as he did fourteen years ago. His followers included not only dark wizards and witches, but creatures of all kinds." Remus, ever the embodiment of insight, continued, "He has been aggressively recruiting, and we too seek to gather our forces. Yet, in the face of the Ministry's hateful and ignorant gaze, our efforts have been hindered at every turn."

"And yet, there is more," Remus stated with a measured tone. "We suspect that Voldemort's motives extend beyond the mere construction of an army. We believe he harbors unfinished business, a desire to complete what he failed to achieve in his previous bid for power." As the words lingered in the air, the gaze of Alastor Moody, Claudia, and Sirius converged upon Harry, a shared understanding etched upon their faces. The gravity of the situation had deepened, casting a shadow upon their hopes and filling their hearts with a sense of foreboding.

As the weighty revelations continued to pour forth, a voice pierced the air, cutting through the rising tide of information. Molly Weasley, her tone filled with maternal concern and protective instincts, interjected with a fervor born of love and apprehension. "No, that is enough! He is but a boy, barely of age! If we delve any deeper into this dangerous path, we might as well extend him an invitation into the Order!"

Harry, emboldened by his newfound resolve and a fire that burned within him, seized the moment to make his proclamation. "If Voldemort seeks to gather an army, then I’ll come with you!”

Claudia, her vibrant spirit undimmed by the gravity of the situation, found amusement in the audacity and courage displayed by Harry. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, mirroring the playful spark dancing in Sirius's eyes. They recognized in Harry the same indomitable spirit that had guided them in their own battles against the encroaching darkness.

With Molly's intervention, the evening slowly began to regain its semblance of a joyous reunion. Conversations flowed freely, laughter mingled with whispers, and the atmosphere regained its familiar air of camaraderie. Each segment of the table formed pockets of dialogue, their words and laughter intertwining, as friends and allies found solace in the presence of kindred spirits. Yet, amid the din of jovial chatter, Harry's mind remained fixated on the enigmatic figure of Claudia Rosier. Her presence, though known to him by virtue of her position within the Ministry, seemed peculiarly timed. Questions formed in the depths of his inquisitive mind, a desire to unravel the mysteries surrounding her newfound association with the Order of the Phoenix.

As the evening progressed, Harry's curiosity simmered beneath the surface, a flame that threatened to consume his thoughts. The allure of Claudia's presence beckoned him, urging him to seek answers and uncover the truth that lay hidden within her crimson hair and electric blue eyes. In this union of destiny and circumstance, Harry resolved to delve deeper into the enigma that was Claudia Rosier, for he sensed that her presence held significance far beyond what met the eye.

As the night began its descent towards the late hours, Claudia Rosier, ever conscious of her responsibilities, gracefully excused herself from the gathering. With a gentle smile upon her lips, she delicately maneuvered through the clusters of conversation, offering her farewells to each individual in turn. Her departure elicited a collective murmur of appreciation and respect, for her presence had brought an air of wisdom and elegance to their midst.

Pausing momentarily before the trio, Claudia's eyes gleamed with a genuine interest as she addressed them. "You find yourselves embarking upon your fifth year, do you not?" Her tone carried a warmth that embraced both familiarity and curiosity. Hermione, ever respectful and poised, replied with a deferential nod, her voice laced with a measure of reverence towards the seasoned witch.

"Ah, the fifth year—a truly magical time," Claudia exclaimed, her laughter bubbling forth like a melodic symphony that echoed through the grand hall. Her words carried a hint of nostalgia, evoking memories of her own youthful adventures and trials within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

The brief interlude drew to a close, as Claudia's obligations beckoned her away. With a final gaze that held a promise of future encounters, she addressed Harry directly. "Tomorrow, Harry, we shall meet again at the Ministry. Until then, I bid you all adieu!"

Masterlist : Next Chapter

#tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #tom riddle angst #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle x reader #abraxas malfoy #hogwarts #hogwarts fanfic #tom marvolo riddle #harry potter x reader #slow but steady #slow burn

[endless-beginning-if]

Growing up in a world that looks down upon you, at least you believe that it does, isn’t a fun way to mature. Not when you’ve had to scratch and claw for every inch that you’ve been able to obtain. All because of the rank you presented as when you reached maturity. When you stared into shimmering gold eyes instead of burning red. 

Omega.

A title that not many would bat their eyes at; none of them were you. 

An Omega borne from two Alphas. Your destiny was written in the stars long before you were even conceived. Now you have to deal with the unfortunate consequences of having those stars being misinterpreted. 

To save face you were sent to boarding school after boarding school. Keeping the public image of your family in the forefront as you felt like you were drowning. Being pulled under by the tidal waves of what everyone else believed you should be. Never thinking about what you wished to be. 

Then your parents died and you were left all alone. The only two Alphas standing between you and the world vanishing within seconds. Leaving you to fend for yourself in a way you never had to before. 

Now you weren’t only an Omega born from two Alphas. You were the first Omega CEO to ever grace America. 

A fact that wasn’t accepted by some. 

If the bullet hole in your office window had anything to say about it anyway. 

Now you not only have to deal with the pressure of being underneath the spotlight, without any buffer, but you need to come to terms with the fact that many people would rather have you dead than alive. Not only for what you represent but for everything your family has done in the past. 

And then the Celestial’s step in.

Demo Features

Find your place in a world that you don’t feel like you belong in. 

Unravel the mysteries of your past and the promises of your future. 

Fall in love with 1 of 4 love interests. 

Select your gender, sexuality, name, and appearance. 

Trust your instincts but don’t ignore your heart. 

Will you allow your social standing to dictate where your life ends up going? Or will you finally step out of the shadow you cast onto yourself?

This story will be Mature (18+) for profanity, violence, blood, assassination attempts, sexual themes, alcohol consumption, mentions of past abuse, and more that will crop as the story continually progresses.

NSFW asks will be tagged for anyone that may wish to avoid them.

Aurora “Rose” Romanova

(STATUS: ALPHA)

The leader of the group that is tasked with your protection. A woman that holds her cards close to her chest but always softens when she’s around her team. Gentle warmth suffuses her gaze when she looks at her pack members. Ice blue eyes softening into sparkling turquoise as an almost smile pulls at her full lips. Pale blonde, almost white, hair being kept in a simple ponytail away from her elegant face-- blending well with her fair complexion. Age 29. 

Dion Morgan

(STATUS: BETA)

The second-in-command of the group that is tasked with keeping you breathing. A man that allows his actions to speak louder than his words. Dion only ever slackens his harsh approach when he’s surrounded by his pack. Medium brown skin seemingly glows underneath any light; highlighting his inquiring gray eyes that take in everything a room, or a person, has to offer. Age 28. 

Eliza Kelley

(STATUS: OMEGA)

You weren’t expecting to run into another Omega during your time with the team, but Dr. Kelley definitely surprised you upon your entrance into the elusive group. With olive toned skin and honest hazel eyes, Eliza was definitely the pinnacle of what an Omega should be. Long, dark brown hair being kept from her face in an up-do that seems to be only seconds away from falling apart. Age 28.

Saeran Song

(STATUS: BETA)

A calm presence amid the chaos that is the group as a whole. He’s always willing to lend an ear if you need to vent about your problems. Warm brown eyes filled with nothing but openness as he listens without judgement. Raven black hair resting across his forehead as he desperately tries to wrangle in the unruly strands. Age 27.

#endless beginning #interactive fiction #no demo #interactive novel

[ramayantika]

Nataraja (mystery academia)

You accidentally stumbled into an old temple located deep within a forest. There is a large bronze idol of a dancing god shrouded in darkness except a single diya illuminating the face of the idol. Did his eyes just gleam at you?

It's 4.30 in the morning. The whole world is asleep, but you are on the terrace dancing in darkness. For anybody else, it would be scary seeing how the giant trees sway their branches in sync with the rhythm of your ghungroos until you sit on the floor in exhaustion. Eyes closes, chest too heavy to breathe in, sweat drips down from your forehead until you hear a distant jingle of ankle bells from the staircase.

You are the last one to leave the dance class. Your guru has left the premises, leaving you the keys because you wanted extra time to practice the new piece you are to perform on Mahashivratri. The speakers were working just fine until out of the blue they screech horribly and emit the sound of a damru (a small two headed drum)

Your class is going to start in a while. You were among the early comers so you decided to offer the pranam and sit until the others come on time. Your touch the floor and a strange sensation runs along your fingers. The floor definitely wasn't metallic. When you open your eyes, you see a man holding large flames in his hand. You blink and he disappears.

The old grandmother in your neighbourhood is narrating the story of Nataraja, the God of Dance by whom every Indian dance form has been inspired. Her body is old, but her eyes sparkle as if she were young. You see her finger movements, they move with a skillful precision as if she were dancing the story out. You were heading towards your tution when her gaze lands upon you, and she blesses you with her hand upraised. "Shivoham shivoham"

"Look far, look within..." The sound fills your ears until you feel a soft touch on your forehead. You look up and see a man's face effused with peace and serenity. A large fiery circle moves around him. The fire enchants your eyes. Could flames appear this beautiful? The radiant colour of yellow blue flames dances across your face and you see them glow even more yet the flames don't hurt your eyes. As a small child who is attracted to colourful flames, you stretch your hand to touch them. A voice brings you away from the man and the fiery circle. "Beta, are you okay? You fainted midway through the song."

"No, beta I am not able to see Shiva in you. I want you to portray his stillness, his divinity, him as the overseer of all. Your stance has to match of a God. Take a break and we'll get back to it." You are tired. Your clothes are drenched in sweat and your limbs are about to surrender if you even move an inch. You close your eyes. The sound of your heartbeat deafens your ears. The sound of your heart starts sounding similar to a drum. It doesn't cause yout breath however to accelerate any further. It calms you down and a breeze of cool air brushes your face providing you a moment of respite.

Dark patterns swirl around you and you feel yourself getting lost in them. You hear the juniors chattering about the new movie and the sound of the nattuvangam in another class. You are aware of the present -- this isn't a dream. The dark swirling patterns start clearing like a mist and you see a strange yet bewitching sight. There is a large stage in front, but no audience. There is no roof but the endless night sky filled with countless stars. You see yourself dance. There's no music, no nattuvangam or any instrument playing around. Your body yet moves to some unknown rhythm played by nature. The same man with pleasant looks joins you. He wears the fiery circle as a garland around him. His large feet sports ghungroos same as yours and a beautiful smile graces his lips.

He dances around you, beside you. When you strike a pose, he takes up the same. When you pause and gaze afar at the darkness, he stops and acts the same. You don't feel fear or anything unusual about him. You dance as if he were your dancemate from class. Your head feels a sharp pain and you clutch it to catch one last look at the elegantly dancing man before you lose you consciousness again. You strike the famous Nataraja pose, and the man joins you too, but stands behind. You look at your dancing self from front and the sight is astounding. He appears as if he has merged into you. The space where he stands glows and the same whispers circulate around your being. 'Look far, look within..'

The stage lights are on. The chief guest are bus with their speeches while you blast Nirvana Shatakam in your headphones. You can't understand the loud noise in your head. There is a strange restlessness in your heart. You are anticipating an event, with no idea of what could it be. Worried, if you would give justice to the dance piece, you sink back and close your eyes. 'Neither am I the sky, nor the earth, neither the fire nor the air, I am Shiva.'

It feels as if an ocean of bliss surrounds you. You can't see the audience nor the musicians. You don't even hear the music nor the chime of ghungrus. Darkness surrounds you which isn't unsettling. You are aware that you are dancing and then a voice rings from somewhere above or is it your heart? Have you known this truth from so long?

Everything dances. The universe, the galaxies, the stars, the planets and the living. There's a silent music everywhere. It never stops not even when you stop dancing. With the birth of creation to its death, the dance of Creation and Destructions keeps going on. The stage is infinite. Look far! The great void stares back at you. It holds answer to your questions and you. Who are you? What do you seek? Who are you in this ever continuous dancing circle? How many births did you take to understand this simple truth? You are limitless -- you are me. I am you. We are one.

The audience burst into an applause. The sound deafens your ears. Some of the old people are in tears as they stand up and bow down to you. You realize that the dance music is still playing. 'Shivoham Shivoham' You bow down at the audience when your eyes catch sight at a silver gleam amongst the crowd. Matted hair, a crescent moon on the head, skin as white as camphor, rudraksha beads around his neck and arms. He raises his hands with a smile in blessing. Your eyes tear up, as you chant, "Shivoham"

#desiblr #writing #shiva #nataraja #mystery academia #hindublr

[biwitchenergyz]

When Dragons Dance

Content Warning: Adult Language, Mentions of Drug Use, and hints towards grooming. I do not own any of the characters or songs used in this story, but I hope you enjoy and if you do, please let me know!

Chapter 3: Meet me backstage.

Cregan is very quiet about the inside man who helped him get backstage access. He dismisses all your questions by simply saying that the guy is an old friend and ending it there. For the most part, you don’t care who the mystery man is. Tonight’s concert changed your whole opinion of the band and meeting them will be a unique experience that not many have. Silly, you think, I’m acting as if I don't have my own fan club. Obviously, having a fan club as an actress is completely different from a band. Although you love your fans it is not as easy to meet or be seen by them in person as it would be if you still did concerts. No, you deliberate, I could never go back to singing. The thought of your past makes your breath come out shallow, but you focus on Cregan's touch and push your thoughts to the back of your mind. Cregan smiles at all the guards you pass, keeping his hand on your lower back as he moves you through the stage crew and to the band’s lounge. Before he opens the door, you rush to smooth down your hair and readjust your light blue sundress, courtesy of your PR manager.

The door opens and you squint at the bright light that gleams from within the room. All the band members are there as well as a few girls that you recognize to be Helaena Targaryen and the Velaryon twins. Baela and Rhaena are in a deep conversation with Jacereys, they look like vultures circling the flustered Jace. “Cregan Stark! Come in dude!” Daeron is the first to notice your boyfriend as he moves you into the room with a gentle nudge. There are plenty of colorful beanbag chairs, a long pitch-black sectional sofa rests in the center of the room and a coffee table is placed before it. The white walls are decorated with certificates, plaques, and awards all won by the band or the band members. Some of the awards aren't for music. You notice a charitable doner certificate in Aegon's name and a high school diploma with Luke's name written in full. Aegon is resting on the sofa with his body spread out and taking up most of the space except for the sofa arm Helaena sits on as she presses glittery bug stickers onto Aegon’s face. Aemond sits at the farthest end, pressed tightly to the corner, with a book in his hand, to your surprise he is reading The Taming of the Shrew by Shakespear. Daeron waves Cregan over to him, “Guy’s this is THE Cregan Stark!” Luke is the first to rush over after that. He practically tackles Cregan with several questions, each more outrageous than the last. Jace seems to notice his brother's excitement and excuses himself from the conversation to save Cregan from Luke. Cregan stumbles over his words as soon as Jace greets him, which makes for an amusing scene. The two men talk with a familiarity that you would not expect from a first meeting, but you can tell they are comfortable, if not a little flustered, in each other's presence. Baela and Rhaena seem to have a sharp gaze on Jace and for a moment you think they may come over and start teasing him but instead, Rhaena grabs Luke with a gentle tug in her direction. You notice Baela's eyes on you, and you smile when you face her. Baela Velaryon is breathtaking. With her dark skin and bright Valyrian eyes that hold your gaze with a curious gleam. Instead of approaching you, Baela turns her attention back to Luke and Rhaena.

So far, you have gone unnoticed, excluding Baela, until you catch the eye of Aemond. Still donning his trademark sunglasses, he sets down his book as he calls out your full name. He continues, “You played in Conqueror with Jace’s mom, right?” You nod in response, slightly confused that Aemond would refer to his half-sister as just Jace’s mom and not as his own family. Aemond stands with a small smirk appearing on his face. “We all loved the show. Aegon and Hel cried when Rhaenys died.”  You also cried when you finally watched Conqueror. It was your first big show and you played alongside Rhaenyra Targaryen. She played Queen Visenya while you played her wild younger sister, Queen Rhaenys. It was an amazing experience that brought you fame and began a new love for Targaryen history in the entertainment industry and your personal life. "Thank You. It was a great experience!" He hums in response, and you feel the need to fill the silence, so you continue, "The best part was learning about Targaryen history. I still find myself reading about it." Aemond's gaze doesn't make you feel insecure, instead, it makes you feel noticed. Even though you can feel a slight heat rising to your face, Aemond's attention is a nice change from just being unnoticed. "We were all made to study Targaryen history since we were old enough to read. But it is impressive that you took the time to study a history that is so often overlooked in the face of all the new Targaryen...drama." His voice comes out deep and smooth, making you wish he had sung on stage more. You thank him for his admiration, but it seems his remarks capture his sibling's attention, and, in an instant, Helaena is stepping over her older brother to meet you. She extends a graceful hand.

You saw pictures of her once a long time ago but now that she stands in front of you it is like looking at an angel. Her hair is cut to her shoulders, platinum white with the curls of her mother's side. Helaena shares the same violet eyes as all her siblings but hers shine more. You take her hand gently and marvel at its softness. “We were addicted to Conqueror. It’s the first time we saw you act but you were so good! We watched The Six Wives of Maegor too, I loved it. I can't wait for the new season.” Helaena has a gentle voice; you wonder why she hasn't pursued singing. “Thank you so much! That means a lot to me! I read your book. The first one, Divine Bugs: A Study of Bugs in Religious Imagery. I still read it every time I see a dragonfly!” The silence that follows is deafening. You worry that you have said the wrong thing but then Helaena practically jumps in place. “You read Divine Bugs? I published that right after I got my bachelor's! Not Even my brothers read that one.” Her grip on you tightens but it is a comfortable hold. “We did read it. It just confused those two.” Aemond argues, gesturing towards his other two brothers as Aegon finally sits up.

The older Targaryen brother is exhausted, barely having the strength to sit up. Gently he rubs his eyes, somehow managing to bypass the bug stickers Helaena has put on him. When his eyes finally adjust, he looks directly at you and nearly falls from the couch as he squeals your name. This catches everyone's attention. “Oh! I forgot. Everyone, this is my girlfriend!” Cregan sheepishly introduces you. You laugh at his embarrassment, clearly not wanting Jace to know he is ‘taken’. Aegon is completely bewildered. “Queen Rhaenys came to my show?” He exclaims, clearly joking. “Queen Rhaenys loved your show.” You add, smiling as he too returns a bright smile. “You have stickers on your face.” Aemond huffs, breaking the moment. Aegon turns his back to you as he rips the ladybugs and dragonflies from his face all while whining about Helaena, who is doubled over laughing. Aegon finally makes his way to you and his siblings. “I never thought I would meet the Queen herself!” Aegon smirks as he stands tall above you. “Well, the Queen goes wherever stupid Stark goes, so…” You joke, receiving a shout from Cregan. “Not my name babe!” Aegon ignores Cregan, not even acknowledging his presence in the room. “Damn, the first time I meet you and you're here with your boyfriend! What a shame.” He raises his eyebrow as if he is challenging you but his smug look doesn't last long as Aemond elbows him in the ribs. Aegon folds over but as soon as you start laughing he straightens his back and brings the fight back to Aemond. They both wrestle with each other as though they were little kids trying to impress the most popular girl at the playground. Helaena watches the scene with just as much amusement as you but when the two start cursing at each other she shakes her head.“Apologies. Our brother is a miserable flirt.” Helaena apologizes as she turns from the scene both of her brothers have caused. “It’s ok. I am too.”

#aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aemond one eye #aegon ii targaryen #aemond x you #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second #alicent hightower #aemond the kinslayer #helaena targaryen #baela targaryen #rhaneyra targaryen #house of the dragon #jace x cregan

[blazingstaro]

Hi Tessa! I’d love to do the oc emoji ask about any of your ocs, but I’m bad at making choices… uhhh, I guess this is basically a wild card ask! Hit me with anything about any of your ocs!

OOH— dealer's choice, eh?

Oooh lemme see whooo... I've been updating a lot of my OCs lately behind the scenes, not just story-wise, but their actual designs too!

As a treat, I'll share with you some information on two characters— the two I've updated very recently!

Starting off with the big mystery woman of all DotS— Eave. Her full name is Eavantide Sol, and for readers new to DotS, she's been a big deal throughout my comics— and still is! A lot has changed with her behind the scenes, so I can freely reveal some big secrets about her. But don't worry.... there's plenty more mystery taking these secrets' place ;D Hehehehe!

So this is Eave!

She's been in front of you guys this entire time, and has been my avatar for YEARS. She and her husband have been on my front page on DA for like 5-6 years now. Hidden in plain sight!

Some of my readers early on theorized that she's Meta Knight's ex-girlfriend! She is not. (In fact, DotS Meta has always been too shy and awkward to ask anyone out on a date LOL!).

Eave here is Meta Knight's sworn sister, one of his many surrogate siblings. She's his older sister, with the two having a 10-year difference between them, and they share the same birthday too! March 23rd!

It's quite obvious who else she's related to, but her ancestry runs quite deeply into the era of yore. Modernly she'd be 524 years old. She died 280 years ago, slain by a mysterious figure. However, her body was never recovered. Allegedly this is connected to a case she was deep into, one she found to be serious and genuinely threatening.

She was something of a spy for the Star Warriors after retiring from several decades of working as a field medic. Eave was most well-known for her miraculous healing powers and playful, yet sassy personality. She was loyally married to her husband, a certain Captain within the Star Warriors, for 20 years prior to her death.

Eave is survived by her only daughter, who is currently in the care of her beloved husband and his current wife.

Now for the second character....

This guy

I've never shown him in color before because it's a dead giveaway as to who he's related to, but that's sort of the point now.

This guy has been haunting Town Town for the past decade or so, sometime after Nightmare's fall to Kirby. Locals are pretty worried about this figure because he dons the tattered remains of the late King Orpheus' armor.

Anyone who bears scarred armor of noble knights passed is someone to be quite alarmed by. Yet some of Meta Knight's warriors don't seem too bothered by this individual, since they have yet to do anything about him.

Then again, catching him is quite difficult! He's nimble, and according to rumors, an extremely skilled fighter. Some reports state that he carries around a large, sapphire blue sword on his back, and some local Dappermau say that dark matter taints his scent...

Yet he's never done any harm to Town. Locals are unsure what to feel about this strange individual. Some elders say he is a bad omen, others say that he is the spirit of the late Knight King Orpheus that has come to watch over the young puffs in Town just as he would in life.

But there are few... who say nothing. Hold their tongues when asked about Town's haunt.

Meta Knight is one of those few.

#kirby #kirby series #dreams of the stars #dots comic #kirby oc #hoshi no kaabii #hoshi no kirby #kirby fanart #lore time #dots answers #answered #long post

[idontknowreallywhy]

Tried but failed to reach a conclusion on what I’m loosely calling the paint mystery but the majority of the chapters have deviated so wildly from any kind of plot that I may have to rethink whether it’s a story or just a collection of scenes.

Unrefined, unedited previous bits for reference:

Bit the first

Bit the second

Bit the third

The interlude after the third where I lost control of the characters and everyone went a bit nuts

Now, Bit the fourth which was supposed to be the end but that still eludes me… ALL the thanks to @astranite @womble1 and @sofasurf for the beta reading and suggestions and encouragement and to the Thunderfam generally for being a friendly safe community to practice a new thing within.

Light

A rush of harmonics drowned out Two’s steady hum as her sister raced up beneath her and barrel-rolled overhead before shooting off into the Californian twilight. Virgil watched as her vapour trail angled up, up, up and over backwards before taking a steep dive and spiralling back towards where he and Gordon watched in various shades of amusement and baffled awe.

“How is he still conscious?” Gordon murmured. “I’d be either sick… or dead. Ugh… nope, definitely dead.”

Virgil watched as his elder brother steered the rocket plane into the vertical zigzag he recognised as the signature move of the ‘Vomit Comet’ Scott had piloted for the trainee astronauts during his 6 month NASA secondment from the Air Force.

“He doesn’t have a… normal relationship with G force, Fish, you know that.”

As if to prove the point, One screamed past them, spinning, and doubled back to overtake at a distance which set Two’s proximity sensors blaring.

Again.

Virgil cringed and covered his ears.

John’s wry smile materialised in front of them. 

“Aunt Val is going to be inundated with emails from the alien spotters again isn’t she?”

Virgil snorted. Then sighed.

“Should we… you know, rein our dear flyboy in a little?”

There was a delighted snicker in the background as John coughed uncomfortably.

“He couldn’t doooo it” came the familiar singsong voice of Virgil’s digital niece. John, who now appeared to be heavily focused on brushing non-existent dust from his baldric, frowned slightly.

“I did open a comm with him, yes.”

“And?”

“He was… whooping, Virgil.”

It was Gordon’s turn to snort. He looked up from his tablet where he’d already accessed the usual conspiracy theory websites to check for new flying saucer sightings over Arizona.

“What, Scott? Pfft, seems unlikely”

John raised an eyebrow and patched in the audio from One’s cockpit.

Virgil’s breath caught in his throat as he was accosted by a sound he hadn’t heard since his brother was a teenager. Warm, hearty, unfettered laughter punctuated by… yes, that could only be described as a whoop… and then an elated giggle. 

Virgil was aware that to most people sound didn’t have colour but it was second nature to him. Scott’s usual speaking voice was a familiar steely blue, rich and dependable. It could deepen to almost navy if he was angered or concerned, or gain highlights of cerulean when he was amused or speaking affectionately. Now it was as if an arc of blazing summer sky was overlaid on the late evening clouds ahead of them, marred only by the static effect of the comm. Virgil was overwhelmed by a sudden longing to hear his brother laughing properly, truly, untainted by digital interference and simultaneously afraid the opportunity to do so would never arise.

Nobody moved, not waiting to break the spell. Then One did it for them, as her pilot pushed her into yet another feat of aerobatic madness and her own burning white squeals of delight muffled those of the man at the controls.

John muted the feed. Virgil releases the breath he was holding and swallowed, glancing at Gordon whose jaw had almost parted company with his face, his tablet hanging from a limp hand, his mission of winding up the ufologists forgotten. 

It was sobering to realise how infrequently a website tracking the rare and precious phenomena of happy-carefree-Scott would be updated. He met John’s eye and inclined his head. He couldn’t intervene either. Drop kicking a puppy would be less morally questionable.

“How’s his fuel?”

John’s gaze shifted upwards as a graceful sweep of his left hand obviously brought up some kind of display and a swift flick of the right closed something else down. Virgil was momentarily distracted by the image of his elegant brother conducting a symphony orchestra from space, his attention snapping back as he noticed the slight furrow in John’s brow.

“Low, I take it?”

“At this rate he’ll drop into F tank in about 10 minutes. Which will get him home if he flies in a straight line…”

“If.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s F tank when it’s at home?” Gordon had abandoned his tablet and was observing his elder brothers’ with overt curiosity.

John rolled his eyes. Virgil bit his lip and radiated guilt. Scott had never been told about that particular upgrade to his ship and it always made him uneasy to keep such a secret but the secrecy was necessary for it to work as intended.

“Gordon you have to swear to keep this to yourself… but you remember all those times when the paragon of caution that is our big brother has reassured us his fuel supply was “Fine” when One was actually running on fumes?” 

More like the distant memory of fumes in some cases. His little brother of course knew all too well because he’d flown enough missions himself to take fuel to whatever godforsaken location Scott had stranded himself in.

“Well… Brains and I installed a little extra tank about which the fuel gauge is ignorant and so is One’s primary pilot.”

Gordon appeared to ponder this for a minute.

“Won’t that just make him believe he really can fly on fumes?”

“Precisely what I said” John threw a hand in the air. “I had suggested a flow rate limiter instead, so she can’t do more than Mach 6 once the gauge gets below a certain level”

“But that’s slower than the Big Green Mom Bag!”

“Oi!” the Mom Bag’s pilot objected “But, yes. Can you imagine what his reaction would have been if…” Another screech of scram jets announced One’s return from who knew where and she decelerated with a shudder to match Thunderbird Two’s more sedate pace, flying above and just a nose ahead with her pilot looking down at them and flipping a cheeky salute. Virgil nudged the comms open again:

“Having fun, you big show-off?”

Scott’s hologram appeared, all shark-like grin and wildly dilated pupils. Virgil found himself leaning back into his chair, slightly intimidated by the intensity of his sibling’s manic expression.

“Well?! What are you going to PLAY?!”

Three younger brothers performed a perfectly synchronised double-take.

“P-play?”

“The concert, short stuff! What are you going to play in the concert? You should play that one that that goes ba-da-da-da da da ba-da-da-da da da da dum…” and then One was spiralling off again in a roar of jet engines, her pilot’s hologram blurring into incomprehensibility from the vibrations and leaving his younger brother blinking in confusion.

He shut off the comm before it gave them all a headache. At some point prior to the spontaneous post-tornado-rescue singalong in the school hall, their old teacher Ms Knighton had accosted Virgil and persuaded him to be the guest soloist at a benefit concert she was already planning to fundraise for disaster relief in their hometown. ‘Persuaded’ wasn’t quite the right word. He wasn’t aware that he’d actually been given any kind of an option. The woman was a tidal wave of organisation and he’d been well and truly swept along.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it anyway. He’d not played in front of anybody but family since their Mom had passed and he hadn’t planned to either, for all that the idea gave him a tiny flutter of anticipation. He’d been meaning to send an apology citing work commitments later that week.

THIS was what had got Scott so excited?

He squirmed guiltily as he’d begun to theorise that his renowned flirt of a brother had encountered an old flame during the course of the evening and that was what had caused the adrenaline spike. But, it seemed Scott wasn’t celebrating for himself at all. This vanishingly rare level of joy from his big brother, was on HIS behalf?

He suddenly pictured Scott sat in the front row of every little school performance, even the ones Mom couldn’t get to. He’d always put the constantly jiggling denim-clad legs down to frustration at having to sit still and listen rather than climb and run but then… maybe that wasn’t it at all?

There was the gift of the electronic piano… and that time his brother flew back from college to talk round his father who’d objected to Virgil’s nervous suggestion that maybe he could do joint honours music alongside his engineering degree. Granted, when he realised IR on the horizon, Virgil had changed his mind and decided to keep music just as a hobby but thanks to his brother, it had been HIS decision to make. 

Now he thought about it, he couldn’t think of a single occasion when he’d sat and played the lounge piano where Scott wasn’t either at dad’s desk, on the sofa, or leaning against the body of the instrument chatting or just watching with a fond smile.

Scott had been his cheerleader at every step.

“Earth to Viiiirg!” Gordon leaned over and poked him in the side of the head. “So what are you going to play then?” Virgil smiled awkwardly and rubbed away the sudden excess of water in his eyes.

“Guess I’d better figure out what “ba-da-da-da da da” is.”

#thunderbirds fanfic #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #scott tracy #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #thunderfam #john tracy #idontknowreallywhy fanfic #the paint mystery #Flyboy!Scott #Music!Virgil #Synesthesia!Virgil #Thunderbird One has a Fine Tank #thunderfluff

[soulntes]

THE TRUTH UNTOLD - PROLOGUE

[THE TRUTH UNTOLD SERIES]

the life of pandora is an experience very phenomenal. to be able to witness personally gives you a different perspective of life itself and.. when you start growing to loving her so much, very impossible to ignore the harm it's done on her.

humans on earth only hear stories and news about the planet from their televisions and papers about 'their new earth'. as well the indigenous inhabitants living there but it includes pieces of lines explaining their hostile personalities and unwelcoming behavior. how would any human feel empathy towards the navi of their situation of sharing anything of their home when all they done is discover a new way of life, wanting to bring a whole species to drive them out?

scientists do. they learn and teach but nobody lends an ear for a learning experience about the connection their people have for their mother planet. most humans don't want to. not when they destroyed their mother out of greed, money, power, and superiority. why would they care when they already destroyed beyond repair.

it is all about perspective. time to wake up and face the truth. those who want to learn, they learn and use it to survive without expecting to getting anything in return.

those who a dream about a new life learn to love and embrace their new them.

the sully sister dreamt of a new beginning. away from her past and agonizing pain which she trained hard for years has finally paid off. her dream of loving another became vibrant and clear of what her path will be.

her dreams of flying through the wild life, running on branches and plants that grew to be felt down her feet, the sun setting to watch the stars to reach it's brightness, shining above her and.. someone else.

their blue four fingers grazes softly on hers to bring them to his lips for a peck. the soft, tender kiss melted her heart by how gentle he treated her as he looks at her with those yellow eyes of love.

this felt like a lovely warm spring when flowers blossom with a fresh start in their lives, enjoying the sun feeding them life and exploring their experiences in person.

it seemed all but a dream.

sooner or later.. you're gonna have to wake up.

the military trained woman participated in the avatar program was offered a once life time opportunity for humanity to discover.

she wanted to leave earth because of how human treated their mother over the years. instead of helping her heal and reemerge her beauty, they kill her more for money and power and selfish needs until she no longer exists.

her instincts dedicating her teenage years to study what is beneficial from dr augustine's book about the navi. nine foot tall, dark shade of blue the aliens appeared as with four fingers, big pointy ears, and a long tail. their appearances look alike towards a feline but they have a lean, slim figure. hair decorated of beads and styles to their liking representing their image that'll be vividly know amongst their clan.

their culture surrounding solely on their great mother eywa who's connected to all living things and their guidance in life that takes a huge role in their entire lives. traditions around the birth of their newborns and journeys that are remembered with songs and story telling surrounding the greatest accomplishments.

everything on pandora seemed lively with how much you get to discover with your very eyes. falling in love with a bond so sacred and meaningful developed something she wished that happens on earth and be with the one you love for all eternity.

feel the love, every single touch, any ounce of pain, and their thoughts about you in their eyes that hold eternity.

but it was a better experience to go to the wonderful, one of a kind planet and witness the beauty of it personally.

nobody knows what awaits in the forest of mystery and love to unravel.

deep within nature was a man, a mighty warrior, in his lonesome time awaiting for a sign to protect the people and those he cares for deeply. for his heart broken yearned something he's been dreaming of, out of his reach. then he starts dreaming a woman. a strange dream walker by the look of her hands offering to accept.

a woman's touch is a remarkable sensation when you feel the love and affection and appreciation of their efforts. a woman who'd dedicate herself into providing happiness and warmth in his toughest times. a woman who he's never met and a man devoting his life to protect his people.

her presence made it all so nerve wracking by her beauty compared to the stars of the darkest eclipse. her joyous smile that he only sees.

a hand out of reach not knowing what awaits them and wait for their time to come as it's all planned by the great mother herself, not bearing seeing those sensitive to suffer and the strongest to ignore their wants.

until they meet in a few years.

TAGLIST

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @misscaller06 @theunfortunateplace @im-in-a-pansexual-panik

#tsu'tey #tsutey #tsu'tey fic #tsu'tey x oc #tsu'tey angst #avatar tsu'tey #tsu'tey avatar #tsu'tey fluff #tsu'tey smut #navi oc #avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar 2022 #avatar angst #angst #avatar smut #tsutey avatar #pandora #eywa #omatikaya #olo'eyktan #blog post #tsu'tey x reader

[theone-with-thestuff]

Power Rangers: Zeo💠

Hey guys! Here's an awesome new series of commissions made by the super talented @artandfail showing what I think could have been the 2017 movie sequels!

Following Zedd's attack and the Rangers separating, a new threat rises from the wreckage of the destroyed alien main ship. Capturing civilians and building an unknown structure. What is this new enemy's goal? And without the Rangers, who will be able to stop them?

We now get to the next part of Tomi's story! Where she has to take up the mantle of Red Ranger and train a whole new team to become Rangers after the previous team separated following their losses and sacrifices.

____________________

In the aftermath of Lord Zedd's invasion, the loss of their friend and losing their ability to morph, the once proud Rangers have disbanded.

Zack has decided to leave with his mom for a new city to focus on her health and treating her long-term illness.

Jason and Kim, grieving and in need of a fresh start, applied and were accepted to a college far from Angel Grove.

Tomi and Billy stayed behind... resolute to maintain the ship and keep watch over the reformed Zeo Crystal.

"After Trin-... I'm sorry, I just need some time to deal with this. And I can't do that here."

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

Deep in the quarantine zone, in the heart of Lord Zedd's mothership wreckage, evil still remains.

Analyzing its new habitat, capturing preys to assimilate, reconstruct and remold. Creating the perfect warrior, the perfect hunter. Create an apex predator, a drone to control just as its Bio-metalic system dictates.

It recreates the greatest warriors of this planet in its own image. Recreates these... Power Rangers.

But it will need more drones to construct a signal tower to contact the rest of its kind. It will need-

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?"

To assimilate another prey.

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

School project partners Aisha, Adam, Rocky and Kat were taking pictures near Angel Grove's quarantine district when the... Ranger attacked. They tried to talk to it, tried to run but it was useless, it was hunting them, separating and isolating them.

But moments before it could strike and capture one of them, someone else managed to strike IT.

"I don't know what you think you are, but you are no Ranger. YOU'RE NOT WORTHY!"

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

After facing the Dark Ranger and reviewing the pictures taken by the four teens she had just saved, Tomi came to a simple conclusion. Angel Grove needed the Power Rangers again. This new threat was too big. It was building some strange structure within the quarantine zone, not only that but it was also capturing civilians and transforming them into these Dark Rangers.

With that in mind, Tomi headed back to command center, unknowingly being tailed by the same teens she had saved.

With the help of Billy, Alpha, Zordon and a broken piece of her own Power Coin, Tomi managed to imbue slivers of the Zeo Crystal with Morphing energy and strap them into six pairs of modified wrist attachments in order to create a new method of morphing, stronger than before, the Zeonizers!

Tomi took the first set and shortly followed by giving Zeonizers to each of the four teens that had followed her into the ship, finding them worthy after seeing them in action and observing them at school. She then offered the final Zeonizer to Billy... Who refused it, holding his own now powerless Blue Power Coin in his hand.

"I was proud to be a Ranger, we were heroes, we saved the earth over a dozen times... But my time is over. This isn't my team, It's yours. You are the new Red Ranger, this is your time."

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

With the help of her new teammates, Tomi dove back into the mothership of the monster that had taken so much from her. Intent on stopping this new enemy and destroying the mysterious machine sending deep-space signals that has been constructed in its center.

Fighting these bio-metallic twisted versions of her previous team, Tomi and the new Rangers will show them that no matter what, Power Rangers never lose!

"I've fought against witches, aliens, monsters, invaders and tyrants. You think you upstart Venom-wannabes are going to be the one to conquer earth? Well you've got another thing coming!"

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

Celebrating their victory, the newly formed Zeo Rangers returned to the ship and celebrated in the pit. Four teens joking together in the sandy terrain as two others stood farther away, picturing four other friends who once stood in that very same spot, joking in a very similar way after a difficult battle.

"So, what did you think of them?"

"They'll need training, lots of it... But they have the heart... They'll be fantastic."

"Rangers at the core, huh?"

"You could say that... What about that sludge we brought back for analysis from our latest planet ending event?"

"Metallic bioplasm, living metal, I'm not sure how to even start defining it. We ran it through the ships archive and had a match but the files are encrypted. Not even Zordon could access them. Alpha is trying to brute-force the system but we can't figure out exactly where that deep-space amplifier was trying to send out a signal until then.

"I just hope we were able to destroy it in time before it could reach whatever it was aiming for."

"Me too... We were able to access one thing from the files though."

"What was it?"

"Just two words, something called the Machine Empire."

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

In a deep, old and forgotten part of the universe, an ancient evil awakens.

Something so depraved and vile, even Lord Zedd himself had deemed necessary to seal away.

A hive of living machines, assimilating all biological matter it finds.

And after millenias of slumber, a blip, a hint of a signal reaches one of its communication captors, breaking their weakened prison.

The Machine Empire lives once more.

Hope you guys like it!

#power rangers #power rangers fanart #go go power rangers #power rangers 2017 #power ranger movie #mighty morphin power rangers #power rangers art #power rangers au #power rangers zeo #power rangers fan art

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

A Christmas To Remember.

as the snowflakes dance delicately from the sky, (y/n) (y/l/n), a free-spirited waitress with a passion for baking, exercise and all thing love, finds herself drawn to the mysterious and captivating harry. with his soulful eyes and a guitar that seems to carry its own secrets, harry becomes the muse that ignites a fire within your heart.

your love blossoms amidst the twinkling lights and cozy warmth of the holiday season. together, you create melodies that echo through the frosty air, your harmonies weaving a tapestry of emotions that captivate anyone who listens.

but as your love grows deeper, a cruel twist of fate threatens to tear you both apart. a blast from harry’s past turns up out of the blue, begging for his attention and he's completely stuck in a bubble filled with all things you and music. you’re faced with a heart-wrenching choice - to let harry go and be with someone who he already has a connection with or to hold onto your love.

in your journey, people close to them witness the sacrifices, the tears, and the moments of pure vulnerability that define your love story. will you and harry find a way to navigate the treacherous path of separation, or will your love be lost in the swirling snowflakes?

prepare yourself for a rollercoaster of emotions as you embark on this poignant journey of love, loss, and the unbreakable bond that defies all odds.

get ready to immerse yourself in the world of two souls, where every word, every note, and every heartbeat carries the weight of their anguished love.

authors note - hi, everyone, whose ready for a little christmas fic?? i’ve had this planned for literally forever and (y/n) and harry are my literal babies, like i’m obsssed with them so bad:(

this story will take place in normal time, except our darling hazza will not be a three time grammy winner that we all know and love, instead a simple busker. he is 29, where as she is 27, so a slight age gap.

chapters will be realised every two days from december 1st, 2023 from english time of 7pm (19:00) and with the final chapter being realised on christmas day !

if you’d like to be added to a taglist, feel free to let me know;)

warnings - perhaps a bit of explicit language, major angst, slight innocent reader (but very slight.) mentions of alcohol,panic attacks and very badly written smut.

if you so notice any more warnings, please give me a shout and i’ll get to fixing this list!

chapter one. a serendipitous encounter.

in which, a cheerful and talented barista, finds herself captivated by the enchanting melodies of a busker as the first snowflakes gently fall, his soulful voice and heartfelt lyrics resonate with her, filling the cozy café with warmth and joy. unable to resist the allure of his music, she steps outside during her break and joins the small crowd that has gathered around him.

chapter two. a brewing connection.

in which, there paths keep crossing, and she can't resist visiting his spot whenever she can. as the holiday season unfolds, he surprises her by playing classic christmas songs, filling her heart with joy and nostalgia. their shared love for music and the magic of Christmas brings them closer, spending evenings sharing stories and dreams under the twinkling city lights.

chapter three. the ghost of christmas past.

in which, he finds himself in a predicament when his ex-girlfriend unexpectedly shows up, bringing back memories of past mistakes. as they spend time together, he starts to notice his other connection distancing herself. feeling confused about his feelings, he has to try and come up with a resolution.

chapter four. the whispers of love.

in which, she starts distancing herself from him, leaving him puzzled. determined to find out why, he visits her best friend’s house, where a few things are finally hashed out, where feelings finally come to the surface, as the snow is falling around them, and locals sing christmas carols.

chapter five. a christmas to remember.

in which, as they prepare for christmas eve , they visit a festive Christmas market. where she surprises him with the news of something big. on christmas day , they gather at his house, inviting their friends over. they exchange gifts and enjoy each other's company.