#The sparrows around me are skittish

[chill]

A weird thing about Philadelphia is that even the sparrows are kinda aggro

#Staying the weekend with fam #I'm here to play with Magic cards #Anyways #The sparrows around me are skittish #If they notice you noticing they fly out #On sight but opposite energy #These Philly sparrows tho #They look at me like I'm the rude one #And they do some Maverick top gun shit while I'm walking down an alley #Respect

[libraford]

Okay so here's what's going on with the bird crimes.

On thursday I was going to Powers Park when I saw what I thought were 2 chickens hanging out in the parking lot, and a lady watching them from the fence. I thought... they could belong to the lady, but chickens aren't the kind of pet that you just let hang out loose.

I approach.

Lady: "These aren't mine."

I look closer. Its actually 2 roosters, one of which is a very small breed and is missing his tail feathers. Both of them have an injury to their backside- like its been plucked.

So we talk about what to do, I end up calling Animal Control. The actual Animal Control officer doesn't get there until noon, I get a police dispatcher. She says she can send one of the cops to grab them until the actual professional gets there.

I tell her that the roosters are being kept by the woman I met, she's coaxing them into her house.

I post about it on the facebook group in case someone knows who they belong to. The comments are full of jokes, obviously. But no leads. Eventually the big rooster gets caught by someone running a sanctuary for abandoned and abused livestock, but they're still looking for the little black one. Evidently they got out of the lady's backyard and were loose again.

I figure he's going to be a coyote snack and don't think about it for the rest of the week.

So now it is Sunday and I'm opening up the bathrooms. I'm at Summit Grove park and as I'm about to reserve the shelter for a birthday party I see...

A black pigeon.

Pigeons are not a common animal in this area- you're more likely to see house sparrows, crows, and mourning doves. So that's odd. What's more, she doesn't seem to be skittish and is definitely accustomed to humans. And she keeps trying to bite my fingers, so she associates hands with food and she's skinny as a rail so she's been abandoned for a minute.

Why does this keep happening to me? Is this the Morrigan come to teach me a lesson in pigeon form?

So I remember the number of the woman running the sanctuary and I give her a call. I tell her I've got a pigeon here that can't fly, is super hungry, and doesn't seem to have any issues biting fingers. She says she can't take her, but she can find a home for her because pigeons have specific needs. But she won't be able to get there until 12:30. We (my work partner and I) have to deal with the bird in the meantime.

We absolutely cannot take this bird with us on our route because we are in a tiny truck cab and don't have a cat carrier to put her in. So our solution is to lock her in the janitor's closet until the rep can get here.

Around 12:15, we head back to the shelter to make sure she's still there and hasn't been disturbed... and I realize that the reason I even saw her in the first place...

...was because there was supposed to be a birthday party at the shelter at noon.

The party is strongly underway and they have shoved a table against the door of the closet.

The sanctuary lady comes by and waves, we ask the party people politely to move the table slightly because we're trying to rehome a pigeon that's inside that closet.

They move the table, but not all guests see this interaction- because it looks like a bunch of maintenance people are just here to boss folks around during a little girl's birthday party and this draws a crowd.

The sanctuary rep arrives and we open the door just a little bit to let the bird out. She bobbles towards us, hoping for food, when one of the older ladies at the party exclaims:

"Does that ANIMAL just LIVE in there?!"

I mean... sure. For the past few hours, she did live in there.

"Do you have any IDEA how many DISEASES pigeons carry?"

The rep scoops the pigeon into her arms and takes her out of the shelter area to inspect her wings, feet, and back. She shows us her breastbone and explains that its been several days since the bird ate anything, which was why it was going for fingers.

Meanwhile, Aunt Ornithophobia over here: "I can't BELIEVE you would just TOUCH a BIRD like that in front of CHILDREN!"

We take the bird away to the van so the rep can thank us and explain what likely happened- which is that someone abandoned the bird when they couldn't take care of her anymore they just let her loose.

"I understand you got one of the roosters," I said.

"Yes, the big one. But the little bantam rooster is very fast- he darted into someone's backyard and I never found him again. If you see him, give me a call."

"I've been told that chickens are legal to own here, but roosters are not."

She gets an exasperated look on her face. "If you're going to allow backyard chickens, you're going to have to allow roosters. It's impossible to sex an avian chick and they don't get their dimorphic traits until they've reached the young adult stage and chick sellers don't care about whether they're a hen or a rooster. They care about the sale. We get roosters more often than egg-layers because someone sold them a male as a female and they don't want to pay the fine. I'd rather have the laws allow both, or neither. But disallowing roosters is patently stupid."

"Hm. Well. Note to self."

"Anyways, you're heroes to this little rock dove and I want you two to know that. She's going on a trip to a bird sanctuary in Toledo where she'll have lots and lots of snacks to eat that aren't fingers."

#parks and wrecks #life as a temporary twig pig

[venerablemonk27]

I went birding at Aldo Leopold Nature Center in Monona, WI today. One highlight of the hike was all the American Tree Sparrows foraging in the tall grass around the center. This one in particular was checking me out quite a bit from various perches just off the path. (I could tell it was the same one from that little bit of something stuck to their bill.)

[ID: An American Tree Sparrow clings to a small twig. The Sparrow fills the frame, showing the details of the tan and brown streaks in its wings, broken up by two white wing bars. Its head is mostly gray with a brown eyeline cutting across a dark eye and a ruddy brown cap. It has the characteristic two-tone bill, grey above and yellow below, with a small bit of something black stuck to the lower bill. End ID]

I also got to see two distinct Red-tailed Hawks wheeling around overhead, likely looking for prey. The first one is likely immature, judging from the banded tail without much red in it, while the second one is clearly an adult.

[ID: An immature Red-tailed Hawk soars in an overcast sky. The hawk is mostly while, with brown streaks on the head and breast. the wings have flecks of brown, and the light shining through the wings and tail show thin bars. End ID]

[ID: An adult Red-tailed Hawk flies toward the camera at an angle. The hawk is mostly white with a brown head and brown edges on the outstretched wings. Its yellow legs are hanging down, showing an aluminum leg band on the left one. The tail is fanned and tawny brown, indicating that this is a mature adult. End ID]

There were also lots of Dark-eyed Juncos mixed in with the Tree Sparrows. They were generally more skittish, but I did snag this nice photo of a Junco checking the scene from the top of a bare bush.

[ID: A Dark-eyed Junco sits on a bare twig at the top of a bush, looking just to the left of straight at the camera. It is almost entirely grey, with white underparts and a pale pink beak. End ID]

#bird #birds #birding #bird photography #photography #bird in flight #close encounter #birdblr #birdwatching #birdlife #dark eyed junco #red tailed hawk #american tree sparrow #winter birding #Aldo Leopold Nature Center

[actualbird]

HII ITS ME AGAIN 🎧🎶

I must ask this question because of that anon u just answered, if you are/were a bird, what kinda bird would you be? or.. what kind of bird are u? 🧐🧐

hi hi :DDD!!

if i were (or are, but who knows, really? certainly not i!) a bird, i'd be the bird i used in that last response! the same bird on luke's head in my icon and the bird in the picture for my pinned post: the humble eurasian tree sparrow :>

it is by no means my favorite bird (there are WAY COOLER birds out there) but ive got a soft spot in my heart for them since theyre the most common birds i see around. theyre tiny and unremarkable and skittish and theyre nothing special at all and i love them with all my heart

my fursona is eurasian tree sparrow, actually!! heres how he looks like :DDDD (drawn by my buddy, tumblr user lordhue)

me :>

#i hope the fact i have a fursona is not a surprise. i mean. my url. is actualbird. so....JHSVKDJFHSKD #noetophat #asks

[myfriendskickass]

in case you dont know what a strawberry finch is

the males turn that color during breeding season and otherwise look like the females

they seem to be the one bird species in this incredibly niche bird game (Pinna Desktop Life, lmk if you want the dl link but you also need visual basic 6 for the cheat engine to work) that doesn't have, like...color morphs besides this? so i'm excited to breed them and see what happens

other bird species included are Fischer's Lovebird, Red Factor Canary, Java Sparrow, and Gouldian Finch

The Gouldians are apparently the "best" to breed because they come in a million colors but idk i like these little guys

i wish they would eat their seed mix and not just the cabbage though :(

also since this game was originally intended for windows 95 (i run it fine on 10 in 16-bit color mode, do NOT use compatibility mode, it messes up the graphics), the, uh...husbandry info on birdkeeping is very very outdated. Like all you can put in their cages are perches, a nest, and food dispensers. No toys at all. And obviously today that feels nuts (I keep going OMG WHERE IS YOUR ENRICHMENT???) but i guess that was commonplace in Japan during this time period?

the built in help faq is all in japanese but i managed to translate all of it EXCEPT the encyclopedia reference section that refuses to load for some reason. launching said help document gives me an error i cannot decipher about temp folder data because this game is so old that the menu text is in gibberish, not Japanese characters. This was common place back in the era this game is from - windows did not come with Japanese characters installed if your machine was from the US, and even though my modern machine has it, it doesn't seem to function on old programs?

There is an english translation hack and that's what I am using but not everything was translated well/properly and you gotta sometimes squint, for example, to see the difference between the foxtail millet icon and the regular millet icon when making your seed mix. (millet for example, is called bitaeru, the same romanji for the vitamins, in the food selector but when you mix it, it becomes millet and functions exactly like millet. but then you switch to the medicine section, and bitaeru is the vitamins. lol.

idr the dev company but they also made a game called aquazone where you breed fish.

this game is super detailed, other than the lack of enrichment - it runs on real time, you have to clean your bird cage, the birds can get sick and die, you have to manage the temperature, a cage light etc. the help guide claims eventually you can pet and hand feed your birds but they keep getting very skittish whenever i use the hand cursor :(

you know fuck it, here is the link:

here is windows visual basic 6.0 common controls, you need this for the birdman cheat engine

https://www.microsoft.com/en-us/download/details.aspx?id=10019

once you install that, you need to register the COMCTL32.OCX file. i don't remember how i did that, you might have to google it

also goes without saying this runs on windows only, i have NO idea how you would make this work on linux or especially mac

if you play this "properly" aka no time skipping with your system clock, it's very chill and slowpaced - basically a screensaver. get up in the morning (8am is when the lights automatically turn on) , clean the cage bottom and food/water dishes, replace food and water, then basically keep it running in the background while you do stuff, checking in sometimes. by modern hardware standards it takes up almost no resources - when you have the game as the focused window, they basically flit around, take little sips from the water, nibble on food - i haven't seen them bathe yet, but the japanese help guide says it's possible. mostly they hop from perch to perch and go in and out of the nest. they sleep when it goes dark assuming you have the light off.

what time/cage temperature depends on the season/time of your system clock. they all breed in different seasons. you can pause time in your cage and if you're doing time travel shenanigans, it's recommended you do that BEFORE going back to the current irl date and time. keep backups of your cages if you get worried. the rar has a lot of sample cages already set up because i don't know who's og copy of the game that was haha

it comes with a clinic program (also run in 16-bit color please) that helps you diagnose your birds if they are ill. (tip from the help document, they should always be active unless it's sleep time.)

Add/remove birds STORES your existing birds and they do not age in storage. This is because you need an empty cage to disinfect it. When you run out of birds to add, it will generate more (opposed to Aquazone, where once your fish died you were SOL.)

if anybody has any questions lmk i'm having so much fun with these little fake birds lol

#shitpost #Pinna #reblog this i guess bc tumblr will suppress it because of links #might add this to the pinned actually

[eggsmuses-a]

@lxghtbound cracked : it’s gonna be fine, trust me. it’s gonna be chill. | Scout and Cayde

the quarry part 1 starters / accepting

#ﾞ ᴄ ——— ❝ YEAH , yeah ... you’re right . ❞ Cayde twiddles his thumbs as he scans the currently on - fire Sparrow League track . ❝ Is what I WOULD SAY if that weren’t INFINITESIMALLY WRONG . ❞

They were dead . Gone . Perished . Fey to the hands of Shaxx . Esta muerto . Unless Scout had a grand idea on how to divert the blame elsewhere , this would be the end for the team — R.I.P .

Of course , Cayde has never been as skittish as this in ... well , a long time . It’s almost an entirely new side of him . &&. for the Hunter Vanguard to be visibly shaken like this was not a good sign . They’d just wanted a small amount of fun on the tracks not this !

❝ I’m currently acceptin’ any ideas that don’t revolve around sweepin’ this mess under the rug . ❞ A glance around then to Cayde’s wrist , ❝ We are on a VERY BIG time crunch , by the way . ❞

#/every thread with these guys is dire trouble in some form isnt it KMSHSBS #/scout : chiiiiiilll maaan #/cayde visibly distressed : I AM CALM #lxghtbound #( one-by-one only the good die young ) -- cayde ic #( walkin’ around with a loaded shotgun ready to pile me a hot one ) -- scout-23 / lxghtbound #main / lxghtbound #main / scout-23 #/I ALWAYS FORGET A TAG SJBDB #( and i love the way you hurt me / it’s irresistible ) -- scout/cayde / lxghtbound #/yep this is their date idea i bet KBSBSB #( .. ) -- thread #( v.i ) -- cayde #( eggs benedict ) -- ask

[notbecauseofvictories]

Backyard Birding

Even with a makeshift birdfeeder (made out of a planter, an upside-down flower pot, and a old plastic plate) I went through a six pound bag of birdseed in a month.

Here are my observations:

March 22 - Birdseed! Mostly sunflower seeds, since I’m hoping to attract more than the usual sparrows, finches and robins. (I’ve seen at least one mourning dove around, do mourning doves like sunflower seeds?)

March 26 - Woke up to swirls of snow, and a lone slate-colored dark-eyed junco picking at the sunflower seeds. Later joined by a pair of house finches, male and female.

March 27 - The sparrows have arrived.

March 28 - There's a crowd now: house finches and house sparrows, the size difference obvious---what might be song sparrows? I can’t tell. Got up at 10:40 for more coffee, and a brilliant male cardinal had arrived and was chasing away all others who dared get close.

March 30 - The cardinal is back! Birds taking shelter from the rain, though they all take off in a whirl when they see me through the window. Sitting at the kitchen table, listening to the patter of rain and birdsong? Bliss.

April 2 - The cardinal again! Does he only visit at 10:30? What a prompt little mister.

April 4 - THE FEMALE CARDINAL!!! Happened to be crossing to the kitchen and I saw her, perched on the wooden fence. I don't know I've ever seen one before, but she's lovely. Cornell Lab describes them as having "warm reddish tinges" and there's something so apt about "warm" in that description.

April 6 - The male cardinal is back again! Or it might be a different male cardinal, he seemed smaller and more skittish than the one before.

April 9 - Caught a half-glimpse of the male cardinal, but he was further away, turned away. I wonder why I never see any robins around the backyard? They're always bobbing along in the front (even saw one pry an earthworm up out of the wet ground this past week) but in the whirl of sparrows, house finches and juncos, I've never seen one help himself to seeds. And they're larger and more distinctive than the common rabble, I would have noticed.

Also took a lazy bike ride through Graceland, and saw which I think might have been a red-tailed hawk. It was being harried by crows, but when it alighted on a branch it sat so tall and straight. And then later I saw some some bird flitting by, too quick for me to mark anything except that it was darker than I expected. And finally, coming out the library - a grackle, bold as brass, eying me from the iron railing. Oil-slick colors, I think I love them best.

April 12 - The female cardinal, perched on the edge of the planter - I couldn't help a little gasp, and whispering "hey, lovely!" She is, she is, she is.

April 14 - I refilled the feeder, and when I turned back the male and female cardinals were perched there together, looking like something out of a picture. Also, I think the birds are getting less afraid of me, because they returned pretty quickly after I refilled the dish, and I can stand very still by the window without freaking them out - the male house finches in particular are fearless, though the female cardinal is braver than the male :)

April 15 - The cardinals definitely are here to stay. The juncos have disappeared (where do they go? further north?) but there's such a crowd around the feeder these days, all those bright-headed male finches. I think they sing the pure, lilting birdsongs I hear most frequently; the male cardinal's chirping is exactly that (metallic, sort of embarrassing) and I've never seen the house sparrows sing. I've noticed more starlings around generally. Spring is coming!

April 16 - I don't think much of him, but the male cardinal certainly is striking. In the full sun, that vivid red and black looks unreal - it's hard to believe that color exists in the world.

April 22 - Finished out the last of the 6 lb bag today, and it's probably for the best; even the sight of the male cardinal couldn't evoke anything in me. However, during some strong rain I did smile to see all the house finches and sparrows perched on the railing, on the planter, keeping out of the wet. In just a few weeks I'll be able to plant; then it will be the next adventure.

April 23 - Made an early run to target for potting soil, and spent an hour or so cleaning up the porch - sweeping away the shells, rinsing the small pots, partially filling the planters with new dirt. (I could only carry 2 gallons without worrying my shopping bag straps would snap.) The female cardinal and then the male showed up, lingered, making me feel inexplicably guilty. Particularly the female. She's so brave, just flitting out of reach but not out of sight; chirping while eying me in a way that seems deliberate...

I'll miss her most of all.

#I STOLE THE BIRDS FROM MY RICH NEIGHBORS I'm very pleased. #unfortunately the illinois dept of nat'l resources is worried about avian flu and is advising everyone take down their feeders #plus I'm a week or two away from planting so I can cool it #still. I will miss that female cardinal I love her I hope she's okay. #about me

[krowfics]

A Spider’s Shadow Chapter 5

Fandom: Warrior cats/Sander Sides

Ships: Prinxiety, Logicality, Dukeceit, (eventual) Remile, otherwise platonic LAMP, familial Creativitwins+Thomas

Plot: Spiderpaw is the sole witness to a murder, due to this, he is no longer safe in Shadowclan. He soon finds himself amongst a group of secret rebels who disagree with the Warrior Code.

Words this chapter: 2152

Notes:Warriors typical violence/hunting, unsympathetic/morally gray Janus and Remus,

Chapter 1  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

~~~

Lionbright bunched up his muscles in preparation, readjusting his footing for the pounce. He lept into the air and landed with a soft thump, muted by the squirrel that now struggled against his claws, he quickly delivered the killing bite to it’s neck and silently thanked Starclan for the catch.

“Great catch!” Nettlepaw purred, standing from their position across from Lionbright.

“Ah, thanks,” He scraped a bit of dirt over his prey, “Though I think that one was a bit slow, otherwise I’m sure it would’ve ended up in your claws.” They’d done a fairly simple hunting technique involving one cat standing behind the prey in case it ran, it was extra helpful for skittish critters like squirrels, but it proved unneeded for this one. Lionbright did catch the squirrel fine on his own but his leap felt lacking, his mind distracted by the occasional wandering thought.

“Maybe.” Nettlepaw shrugged before turning their head sharply, “Oh and another good catch!” They mewed, acknowledging Whitepaw stepping through the bramble with a sparrow.

“It was nothing.” He mewed happily, his head being held high despite his words.

Lionbright flexed his claws in and out for a moment as he suppressed a sneering response. Whitepaw always got on his nerves. It was just a sparrow, nothing all too impressive. Lionbright supposed that attitude was why he earned his warrior name before Whitepaw despite the other being older. But, hunting wasn’t a contest, he shouldn’t be thinking that way. Still, he couldn’t help a small grin at the fact that he was better than the apprentice.

“Nice squirrel.” Whitepaw said once his catch joined the other, kicked a bit of earth over it.

“Lionbright caught it.” Nettlepaw stated, bumping the warrior in question with their side.

Whitepaw sniffed, “Oh really? I suppose it’s a nice change in pace from catching spiders.”

Lionbright sighed, he should’ve guessed some teasing like this was coming, “And what if it is?”

Whitepaw’s ears pressed back slightly, “He’s a Shadowclan cat.”

The warrior frankly wasn’t sure what exactly his old denmate was trying to imply but he really didn’t care at the moment, “Wow, that’s amazing I hadn’t even noticed until you pointed it out just now. Thanks for telling me.” He stood, his mew mockingly sweet.

“Whitepaw don’t be rude.” Crowclaw rolled their eyes as she approached, a wren muffling her words, “I think we should head back and get these in the pile,” they said quickly, not giving her apprentice had a chance to defend himself. Lionbright dipped his head and picked up his squirrel before following the others to another few pieces of prey they’d caught earlier and buried a bit in earth.

Soon enough, he was following the patrol through the bramble and into camp. He felt the midday sun hit his back as he swiftly made his way to the pile. His head was held high, a grin hidden behind his squirrel. Maybe Spiderpaw would eat the squirrel, Lionbright wondered, would a Shadowclan cat like squirrel? Had he even ever tried one? He had plenty of questions to remember to ask his friend later, but for now, he was stopped by an all to common sight.

Just in front of the pile was his father and brother, along with the deputy and medicine cat. Ratpaw seemed a bit puffed up, undoubtedly ready to defend his actions, whatever they may be. He hadn’t run off again had he? Lionbright wasn’t gone for that long but if he could trust anyone to vanish in a moment just to turn up later smelling of twoleg stuff, it’d be his brother.

He stepped closer, more out of curiosity than to get closer to the pile, but stopped in his tracks as he listened to Ratpaw’s hiss, “So I gave Spiderpaw a poppy seed, I did what-”

“You gave him a what?” Lionbright barely acknowledged the fact that his kill had fallen from his grip, still a fox length away from its place in the pile. The rest of his patrol stepped around the group to set their catches down in the proper place before backing away, not wanting to interfere in whatever today’s argument would be about.

Ratpaw looked to him and soon gained an amused expression, “A poppy seed. It’s what you give annoying little nuisances from enemy clans to make them sleep for a really lo-” He was cut off by sudden paws pushing him onto his back. 

The gray tom fell backwards with a satisfying huff as the air was knocked out of him. Lionbright might have used more force than strictly necessary in the given situation, he knew that poppy seeds caused no real harm, but if it got his littermate to quiet for once, then it was worth it.

“The poppy seed was necessary.” Frostpool confirmed, she’d stepped closer after a moment whilst Lionbright was still giving Ratpaw a glare as he kept him pinned down, “He’s quite bothered by what he witnessed,” She spoke in a hushed mew, “And reasonably so.”

Lionbright glanced to see Fernstorm nodding, “He couldn’t get more than a bite of wren down.”

“See?” Ratpaw said in a mockingly distressed voice from under him, “Why must you antagonize me? What have I done to deserve such rough treatment?”

“Plenty.” Redstar said in the chiding tone of a father, “Lionbright, release him.” He continued with the commanding tone of a leader, Lionbright obliged begrudgingly. Redstar watched as Ratpaw jumped up, not looking bothered in the slightest. “Ratpaw, from what I understand, you made the situation worse before offering the seed.”

Ratpaw rolled his eyes, “Yes, Redstar, we’ve been over this before. What shall we describe my actions as this time?” He hummed, “Fox-hearted? Mouse-brained? No better than a rogue’s? No better than a Dark Forest cat’s?” He gasped dramatically, “No better than a Shadowclan cat’s?” 

His father’s face lost any commanding feature, he just looked done, and Lionbright could hardly blame him. However the younger warrior could not relate to the almost forlorn look in Redstar’s eyes, for he was bristling with fury.

He flexed his claws in and out for a moment, then forced himself to breath. “Where is he?” he turned sharply to Frostpool, unable to keep his tail from flicking.

“The medicine den.” She blinked, “Asleep.”

“Right.” Lionbright flicked his ear, his paws were moving before he knew where he was going yet. He just needed to walk somewhere. Actually he felt like he needed to shred a tree of it’s bark with his claws or hunt the whole forest clean but those wouldn’t be helpful. He instead grabbed his fresh-kill between his teeth to move it to the pile.

The day dragged on slowly. Lionbright tried to force himself to lay in the sun and relax but he was in no mood to share tongues and his thoughts were to focused on his friend to let himself nap, despite his sleepless night. It was at times like these when he was restless for an apprentice. With no apprentice duties himself, he’d didn’t have much to do. When Blossomfur’s kits were of age then perhaps he’d get to be one of their mentors, but it’d be a bit before they were even born let alone six moons old.

He scoffed at his own boredom. He wanted so badly to be a warrior as a ‘paw, but he’d take apprentice duties at this point just so there was something to do. Well, not if that meant tick duty, his nose scrunched up at just the thought of mouse bile. 

If Ratpaw hadn’t gotten himself banned from leaving camp again then Lionbright would be able to offer to go hunt or gather herbs with him, but even if his littermate wasn’t in trouble at the moment, Lionbright didn’t trust himself not to get into a hissing match the second he was alone with him. 

Ratpaw was in the medicine den, right? Along with Spiderpaw. Ratpaw had been practically dragged in by Frostpool talking about drying out herbs. Lionbright felt his shackles rise and he stood, trudging over to the den. He didn’t enter, not knowing what excuse to give. He just stood by and listened for a moment, seeing if anyone was talking inside. It was silent, so Lionbright stepped away to continue his failed nap.

It wasn’t long before he was wandering back over to the medicine den again. And again. And again until Frostpool was stepping out with a frustrated huff. “Do you have a thorn in your paw?” She asked.

“Um- No?” Lionbright said, taken aback.

“Burr in you pelt? Chaffed pads? No? Then why do you keep coming back here?”

Lionbright opened his mouth to respond but with what, he had no idea. Sometimes he forgot how scary medicine cats could be while they were doing their jobs. He glanced behind her, trying to discreetly peak into the den. Frostpool closed her eyes and sighed.

“Fine.” She said, her voice losing it’s malice, “I get it, you’re worried. Why don’t you go hunt for him?” She offered, “He could use a mouse, they always go down easy, I’m sure he’d appreciate one that’s still warm.”

At that, Lionbright felt like he was buzzing with energy, “I can do that! Uh, thank you.”

Frostpool nodding, laughing fondly, “You’d better be grateful, Ratpaw was offering to come out here and bite your tail off.”

“I’d expect nothing less from him.” He said, backing away and heading to the entrance. Hunting a mouse was something he could do. He was going to get his friend plumpest, juiciest mouse in all of Thunderclan’s territory.

Lionbright headed in the direction of the old owl tree but he didn’t need to travel that far before he picked up the scent of mouse, strong and incredibly recent. He dropped to a hunter’s crouch instinctively and let his eyes trail on the ground, searching for the rustling of leaves. He spotted a disappointing, scrawny little thing and promptly decided to ignore it.

He carried on, allowing a leaf to crunch under his paw that set the mouse running.

He stopped when he smelt mouse again, this one was easily spotted grooming itself. It looked nice and plump, Lionbright found himself liking his lips. But, as hungry as he was, this wasn’t for him. Hopefully when he returned, Spiderpaw would be awake and he’d be able to give him the freshkill and grab something for himself out of the pile so he could eat with him.

He did need to catch it first.

He shuffled forward, paws low on the ground even when lifted so he could avoid any noisy leaves. The mouse didn't spot him until he was pouncing. He swiftly bit down on it’s spine and took a breath to relax. The mouse looked delicious, perfect. 

He plucked it up and trotted back to Thunderclan’s camp with a bounce in his steps. Once there, he headed straight for the medicine den, only to see his darling brother’s head poke out. 

Ratpaw caught sight of him, “Your spider’s awake.” He said.

Lionbright would prefer to doubt what the implications of that would be when said by any other cat, in fact it wouldn’t occur to him at all. But, Ratpaw seemingly only ever had very few topics in mind, and none of them respectable. The only thing keeping a hiss contained in Lionbright as he realized that Whitepaw was probably having the same thoughts as the medicine cat apprentice was the mouse Lionbright diligently held in his mouth.

The gray cat backed up so Lionbright could bring the freshkill inside. “Oh good!” Frostpool mewed at the mouse, the carrier of which had only just poked his head in, “He can eat it outside, no point in making extra work cleaning. There's already plenty of work to be done.” She sent a sharp gaze towards Ratpaw, who just shrugged in response.

Lionbright turned his attention to the small tabby still laying in his nest. Spiderpaw blinked at him with his bright blue eyes and stood slowly, taking a long step to stretch out of his sleeping position. The pretty tom hunched awkwardly as he walked, he looked like he was fighting his hackles from raising. He nodded at Frostpool who responded with a blink.

Lionbright turned to step out of the den, only pausing when he saw that Spiderpaw had, just in front of Ratpaw.

Lionbright felt a moment of panic knowing that his brother could have said absolutely anything to the Shadowclan cat while Lionbright was out, but then, “Thank you,” Spiderpaw said, “For the poppy seed and the… moss pile.”

Ratpaw, to his credit, did look a bit surprised but he shook it off quick enough with a flick of his ear, “Yeah, yeah, go eat your mouse.”

Spiderpaw nodded at him and trotted out, leaving Lionbright to follow, and follow he did.

~~~

It’s been a while!,, like a year,,

please accept this animation meme of ratpaw and snakeface as an apology (be warned it has SPOILERS ,,,,,)

Chap 6

Tags~ @perfectly-princely-emo-nightmare

#sander sides #warrior cats fic #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #remus sanders #morally gray remus #ill be honest im very unhappy that this chapter took a year #its not that good for it to take that long #writers block just suckkksss #thekrowiswriting #A Spider’s Shadow

[dazebrasrecs]

Fic Recs:  Critical Role (C2)

Includes: Genfic, Caleb/Clay, Caleb/Fjord, Caleb/Molly, and Caleb/Essek.  (Can you tell I have a fave boy?)

Fics marked with ~ are incomplete.

This list will not be updated.

-----------

Gen

blue is the friendliest colour by invoked_duplicity

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Nott and Jester spend some time to do "girl stuff".

~Everything She's Not(t) series  by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)

Length: 6k / Rating: T / Genre: H/C / Warnings: eventual Nott/Yeza

Summary: “You don’t have to hide from me, you know. I will not bite you.” The man’s voice was soft, thick with an accent that Nott could not identify. He didn’t look over in Nott’s direction when he spoke, just kept looking at the window.

Nott didn’t move from her corner. She liked corners in general. No one could sneak up on you when you were in a corner. Though, now that she thought about it, being in a corner meant there was no where else to go if someone was in front of you. Like everything that might offer Nott safety, there was always a catch.

“My name is Caleb,” the man said. “Caleb Widogast.”“

I’m Nott,” Nott said, because that’s what you were supposed to do when someone gave you their name, you gave yours back. Besides, talking to the stranger would at least help distract her a little.

There was a pause. “You’re not what?”

a study in attraction by invoked_duplicity

Length: 1k / Rating: T / Genre: Drama / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Caleb asks Beau about her attraction towards women. The conversation doesn't lead where Beau expects it to lead.

The Warmth of Family by FallzVentus

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb and Nott have been traveling for a while now. The wizard can't help but feel that Nott deserves more than the current life they live. So he decides to work towards giving her the experience of having a family.

When You Wake Up The World Will Come Around by infraredphaeton

Length: 6k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   When a chance encounter at a tavern in a very, very anti-goblin town reveals Nott's identity, Caleb casts a spell to hide her as a human- a young, human girl, who looks a lot like him. It's only natural to pretend that he's her father.  It's just. Nott didn't expect to kind of *like* having a Dad.

\\\

Caleb/Clay

Bared by walkalittleline 

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  The Mighty Nein take a much needed trip to the bathhouse before departing Nicodranas.

Book Learning by walkalittleline

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  There are a lot of things Caduceus doesn't know. Caleb is always willing to teach, though.

Caduceus and His Book of Things He Doesn't Know

Length: 8k / Rating: T / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Caduceus received a gift in a form of a journal from Caleb as thanks for his contribution to the Mighty Nein.  He may or may not be trying to win the firbolg's attention. Either way, Caduceus has no idea what's going on.

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait by RoyalHeather

Length: 2k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Leaning in, Caduceus pulls Caleb closer against him, his warm breath touching the back of Caleb’s neck, his earthy scent filling Caleb’s nostrils. His hands slide over Caleb’s stomach and hips; Caleb swallows hard, desire coiling up his spine. Broad fingers splayed out, Caduceus slowly brings his right hand over Caleb’s groin, letting it rest there before squeezing gently.  Caleb inhales sharply, skin prickling all over. But Caduceus just stays there, his soft nose in Caleb’s hair, one hand gripping Caleb’s hip, the other giving only the occasional, maddening rub at Caleb’s crotch. After several minutes, Caleb is ready to burst out of his skin, and he snaps, “If you are going to fuck me, Caduceus Clay, you had better do it now.”

~Kink Therapy series  by walkalittleline

Length: 28k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, Sex Pollen, knotting, breath play

Summary:  Caleb gets a face full of sex pollen and that's all you're getting from me.

Kiss the Cook by Alarnia

Length: 8k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM

Summary:   Happily married, Caleb gets Caduceus a new apron and asks him to wear it... and nothing else, for a very special dinner.

A Little Bit Closer by walkalittleline

Length: 16k / Rating: E / Genre: Drama,AU / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy evenings out drinking with his friends. On the contrary, he welcomes the temporary respite from his own ceaseless thoughts of studying and grading papers and planning lessons and everything else he’s constantly fretting over, has no problem getting in a few drinks to let the warm haze of alcohol loosen his limbs and unwind his brain. He doesn’t, however, find much enjoyment in the too-loud music and crowded spaces of the clubs that Beau and Molly so often pick for them to frequent when they make these jaunts at the start of the weekend.

Two Minds by sabinelagrande

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb just needs someone who understands.

\\\

Fjord/Caleb

anything but by MsMaarvel

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Drama/ Warnings: N/A

Summary: He needs to get more powerful. Being defeated by a lowly imp could not have been more embarrassing, and he really needed to stop owing Nott life debts. He only had one, after all. But there is one problem.

By the Winding River by mollymaukerie

Length: 4k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   After the days of travel towards Zadash, Caleb takes a quick dip in a nearby stream. Fjord comes by to lend a hand not before long.

choke this love by nighimpossible

Length: 4k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, semi-public sex

Summary: “The idea that I’m going to apologize for stopping you from sticking a sword down your throat is just—absurd,” Caleb hisses back. “Tell me you’re not going to do it again.”

Fjord feels a little like a petulant child, but he does purse his lips in anger before replying, “Funny thing: you don’t get to tell me what to do, Caleb.” As Fjord says the words, he suppresses a shiver that slithers down his back. Stop that.

Convection by SnubbingApollo

Length: 12k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance/H/C / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  The first time Fjord and Caleb share a room Beau hands Molly three silver pieces. Caleb turns so red for a moment Fjord is afraid he might faint. Fjord grumbles good-naturedly about the rudeness of betting on friends and tries not to think about the fact that they’d apparently been so obvious. He’d been waiting for Caleb to suggest telling them, knowing the man was private and still skittish with the group, but he supposes he isn’t the most… subtle flirter.

Craving You series  by MeBeThem4815

Length: 15k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, eventual Fjord/Molly/Caleb

Summary: Caleb thought he understood what Nott had been talking about, when she talked about the itch. He had thought it was similar to when he saw a new book on arcane lore in a shop. He had thought Nott was referring to the longing and the ache in his chest when he had to, inevitably, pass the book by due to lack of funds. But now, now, now he knew better. Now he knew what an itch was.

I Gave Into Sickness (Can You Find Forgiveness) by GrannyBoo

Length: 3k / Rating: G / Genre: Angst / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Caleb's fear takes a toll on his and Fjord's relationship

~The Grunge Hobo Learns to Trust by Catzgirl

Length: 41k / Rating: E / Genre: Angst / Warnings: Violence, non-con

Summary:   Caleb is hiding some secrets from the gang, and they come back to haunt him at the very worst of times. Fjord is there to catch him.

I'm A Desert You're An Ocean (It's Your Motion That I Need) by GrannyBoo

Length: 1k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fjord wasn’t sure how they’d managed to get there in the first place; a few too many ales for Caleb and whiskeys for Fjord, tantalizing promises whispered between the two at the table before Caleb excused himself to bed and Fjord, waiting until he’d finished his last glass, followed after. It took all of one second after he’d knocked on Caleb’s door to be dragged in and pressed against the wall, the smaller, slighter man pressing the entire length of his body against the half-orc’s.

Making it Work by PyrophobicDragon

Length: 2k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  It becomes a little joke between the two of them.

Proving Worth by SnubbingApollo

Length: 3k / Rating: T / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Fjord is acting… strange.

something good, something strange by nighimpossible

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, voyeurism

Summary: Caleb shifts his vision into Frumpkin and flies the familiar a little closer, his small bird feet wrapping around a sapling nearby. Fjord looks into the trees and gives the sparrow a quick nod before pressing a small kiss to the back of Caleb’s neck. It is an achingly soft gesture, one that Caleb does not know how to parse. And then Caleb is lost to sensation.

Thread by Crewe

Length: 2k / Rating: G / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fjord and Caleb develop a routine at night, Caleb reading his books and Fjord mending his and his friends' clothes.

Or: In which Caleb greatly resembles his familiar, and Fjord understands the virtues of patience, quiet, and boundaries.

till the last flower by vannral

Length: 8k / Rating: T / Genre: Angst / Warnings: N/A

Summary: The Hanahaki Disease is an illness born from one-sided love, where the patient coughs up flower petals. The infection can be removed through surgery, but the feelings disappear along with the petals.Caleb Widogast is heartbroken and very tired.

What Bravery Looks Like by Angel Ascending (angel_in_ink)

Length: 6k / Rating: G / Genre: H/C / Warnings: N/A

Summary: It had been a long night, one of those kind of long nights that had turned into a long morning, and Caleb was exhausted, the kind of exhausted that made him ache in his bones. His plan was to go back to the inn, fall onto his bed, and sleep the day around. There was an old saying, that men plan and the gods laugh.

\\\

Molly/Cayleb

Black Skies Change into Blue by Saoto

Length: 10k / Rating: NR / Genre: Drama / Warnings: Love potions

Summary:   Caleb believes that Molly drank a love philtre that Nott stole. So to prevent him from falling in love with Caleb's "little sister", Caleb makes sure Molly looks at him instead. But somehow, Molly really does not like it when Caleb tells him that - no worries! - the feelings he has for Caleb right now are nothing but fake...

Blush by LivesToLead

Length: 3k / Rating: T / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Four times Molly made Caleb flustered and the one time Caleb made Molly flustered.

Darkvision by Calminaiel

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   While the rest of the group slumbers upstairs, Caleb and Molly are alone in the darkened tavern.

~Dreams series by Nisey

Length: 18k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Mollymauk keeps having dreams about Caleb. It culminates on a day off from their travels and he must decide what to do about it.

ecstasy delivered with certainty by Lauren (notalwaysweak)

Length: 1k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   For the kink meme prompt (abbreviated): 'Caleb is now clean and pretty with directions to a sex shop, they're in a big town - it’s time to make a bit more money via the oldest profession ... maybe working gloryholes for tips at the dirty bookstore...'

Flickering Desire by Aristathelia

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  The heat in Mollymauk’s eyes had a questioning quality when Caleb next looked up and the wizard couldn’t help the jolt that went down his spine. Heat seemed to have gathered below his navel and tingles had gathered in his fingertips. It felt a little like when he was casting, the same electrical sizzle making him short of breath.

A Fur Lined Cloak by chaya

Length: 21k / Rating: E / Genre: Drama / Warnings: slavery, BDSM

Summary: Caleb must be a Duke for this mission, so that leaves Molly to be his... companion. You may be wondering: is this the kind of indulgent writing that includes sleeping furs, large tankards of mead, and snuggling for warmth? Dear reader, it is exactly that.

It was only a Kiss by WonderingsAndMusings

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   After defeating the gnolls and manticore and returning to Alfield safe, Caleb asks Molly why he kissed him. And tells him to do it again.

Kiss Through Copper by wilderswans

Length: 3k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary: Fantasy Skype Sex

North by SnubbingApollo

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP, H/C / Warnings: BDSM, past abuse

Summary:  Trent had been the star he’d used to find north and over time he’d forgotten how to find it himself.Except it turned out Trent had been leading him every direction but north, obscuring the whole world in fog until Caleb had forgotten the shape of things entirely. Until he could only find his way by stumbling blindly in whatever direction Trent had pointed.And now Trent is gone. The fog has been pulled away but Caleb still can’t see. He doesn’t remember how.

only forward by invoked_duplicity

Length: 1k / Rating: G / Genre: H/C / Warnings: panic attacks

Summary:  Molly panics. Caleb tries to comfort him. 

Snowed In by MeBeThem4815

Length: 10k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM, blood play

Summary: When a snow storm separates Caleb and Molly from the rest of the Nein, antics ensue.This is just pure, self indulgent porn to get me back on the writing train after an illness. You're welcome.

Stammtisch by chaya

Length: 28k / Rating: E / Genre: Fluff / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Someone asked for "The Nein's first experience in Mordenkainen's mansion after Caleb learns to cast it". This is literal world-building so of COURSE it got really long and involved.

A Useful Little Spell by threerings

Length: 5k / Rating: E / Genre: Smut / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb uncovers a promising new spell but unfortunately it requires two people. Two people having sex.

\\\

Caleb/Essek

Calculated Risks by Cardinal_Daughter

Length: 3k / Rating: M / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb knows a calculated risk when he sees one.

hearts are too heavy a burden to bear alone by personalized_radio

Length: 10k / Rating: M / Genre: AU, Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb Widowgast is the only student to show up to Essek's study hours. Caleb...is not enrolled in the class or the program, but Essek has to be here anyway and Caleb has the book and is determined to learn. Also he brings Essek coffee every single time and it's never the same but always delicious so Essek doesn't mind explaining the basics or going over concepts between lesson planning in exchange. Caleb has very pretty eyes.

Honesty by aunt_zelda

Length: 4k / Rating: M / Genre: PWP / Warnings: BDSM 

Summary:  Essek waits. Perhaps he is supposed to guess the likeliest offer and spare Caleb the embarrassment of asking? He keeps his mouth shut, waiting, watching Caleb wrestle internally with his shame and desires. It’s an engaging sight.  

“I want you to use me.” Caleb says at last. 

Ah. Ambiguous language, to a less discerning individual. Essek understands, but wishes to draw it out from Caleb’s own lips. “Use you?” he lingers on the syllables. “Yes, to ferret out spies from the Empire. We’ve discussed this.”

Caleb shakes his head in a twitching movement. “No. Not like that.” His hands fail briefly in agitation. He’s coming apart at the seams, this man. Essek very much wants to know what’s hidden underneath.

(Mis)Trust in Me by MoonwalkingCrab

Length: 31k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Caleb is torn. He has been trained to get what he wants from people, and so often he has. But something feels different this time.  Now he is hesitant to trust his own impulses. Is it really just his training kicking in, or does he simply want to spend time with Essek for no ulterior reason?

The Only Way Is Essik's by supersonica

Length: 8k / Rating: E / Genre: PWP / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  Leaning a little closer so his breath could brush Caleb’s oddly round ear, Essik said, softly, “If you’d like, you could visit my library this evening, Herr Widogast.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Caleb asked, snorting. “It’s not a very appealing one.”

Essik rolled his eyes. “No, I—what do you take me for? I do actually have a private library, feel free to come by after dinner. And also,” he made a very quick decision about how good the hearing range of Caleb’s companions probably was.  “I don’t need a euphemism to say I’d quite like you to suck my cock.”

What's sexier than wizards NOTHING by Dweebspace

Length: 7k / Rating: E / Genre: Romance / Warnings: N/A

Summary:  “Is this still you wanting to do magic?” Essek asks. There is a vulnerability to his voice that Caleb hasn’t heard before from the shadowhand, though he recognizes it. Fear of rejection. Fear of being used. Fear of being a means to an end.

“No,” he says, “This is you. You are very clever and very attractive.” He clears his throat. “This is me wanting you.”

Zero to Sixty by indefensibleselfindulgence

Length: 2k / Rating: E / Genre: AU / Warnings: N/A

Summary:   Caleb is new in town, but at least Hot Uber Driver is nice.

#critical role #fic recs #clayleb #caleb x essek #widowmauk #caleb widogast #essek thelyss #fjord critical role #caduceus clay

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Halloween Coutdown - Burn

Summary: Hilda’s classmates are beginning to pick up on her witchcraft. She doesn’t care, but the librarian doesn’t like people talking about her apprentice behind her back. Family Fights Halloween themed ficlet

Notes: 4 days until Halloween!! This chapter takes place in the 5 month skip in Family Fights. If you haven’t read the fic and want to, the link is here. If you don’t feel like it, you just need to know that the librarian is training Hilda to be a witch.

(I dedicate this chapter to the awesome @mr-hyde-and-mr-seek, who unknowingly helped me pick the theme for ths fic and who just gives my writing and me more support than I could possibly hope for. Everyday is halloween when I’m with you, fren <3)

Read it on ao3

Spooky song rec: Burn The Witch by Queens of the Stone Age

It had been years since Maven had set foot on Trolberg’s Elementary School. Before her sister had complained about it and asked her to stop doing it, she’d often pick Myra up when her classes were over. The last time she’d been there, it had probably been to walk her home.

Her own memories of the place felt more like a haze. She did remember that she’d attended that school, and that she’d had few friends and so spent her recesses in the library, and she even had some weirdly specific recollections of sneaking out of physical education to write stories in a secluded corner of the dressing room. She wasn’t there for her sister, though, much less for the pleasure of remembering her childhood years. That day, she was there to pick her apprentice up.

Leaning against the grids that surrounded the school, the librarian watched a group of children walk by her, complaining about how unfair it was that they would have classes on Halloween, and she thought about how much easier this was for people for whom All Souls Night was just another holiday. Being a witch, she had much more ease sensing the things that lurked in the shadows at that time of the year, and they were more likely to target her as well. That was exactly the reason why she’d asked Hilda to allow her to accompany her home that day, even though it wouldn’t really be Halloween until midnight.

She was probably exaggerating on her worry, but a young witch with too much power and not enough control over it was the perfect target for all the dark creatures that arose when the veil got thinner. When she’d talked about this to her, Hilda had promised not to leave her house alone on Halloween, especially since there would be no fun in trick or treating alone, anyway. She did, however, reveal that she walked to her house alone after school, and Maven was not completely at ease with that.

When she asked Hilda if she’d allow her to pick her up at school, the girl hadn’t looked like she’d wanted to comply, though she tried to hide it. Even when she accepted, she didn’t act very happy about the prospect. Maven didn’t think it was anything she’d done that had upset Hilda, since they had been talking normally just seconds before, which left her to wonder about Hilda’s behaviour.

Walking side by side with her two closest friends, Maven noticed Hilda leaving her school’s main building when she waved enthusiastically at her, now acting as happy as ever, if a little nervous. After they said their goodbyes, the trio parted ways. The girl returned inside the school, the boy left for the school’s auditorium, and Hilda ran her way.

“Hey, Mave!” She greeted joyfully. “Good afternoon.”

“Good afternoon. How are you?”

“I’m fine.” Hilda began walking, taking the lead since she knew the way to her house way better than Maven did. “What about you? Have you done anything interesting today?”

“If by interesting you mean magical, then no, That will only begin tomorrow.”

At the mention of magic, Hilda glanced around, which made Maven lift her eyebrows. She’d never seen Hilda being skittish before, and she didn’t even think the girl had it in her to be.

“Are you sure everything is fine, Hildie? You seem a little bit… off.”

“Me? Oh no, I’m fine!” She assured, clearly lying. Knowing she’d been caught, Hilda was about to come up with an excuse when they heard a gasp. They still hadn’t left the school’s block, and on the other side of the grids there was a playground for the children. Inside it, a boy was pointing at her.

“I knew it! I knew you were a witch! You’re with the witch librarian!”

Hilda sighed wearily, and Maven crossed her arms. Her apprentice had told her about the boy, and how his misadventures with the Great Raven had led him to believe she was a witch, a belief that had only gotten stronger when he heard her chanting a small good luck charm before an exam.

“Trevor.” Hilda groaned. “Can you please just leave me-”

“Little child, you shouldn’t go around saying things like that!” Maven whispered with fake alarm in her voice. Hilda’s face was confused as her mentor kneeled down to the ground to get on the boy’s level. She looked around, as if making sure no one could hear her, and after noticing this Trevor got closer, curious at the prospect of a secret.

“It is dangerous to speak the way you do. Especially at this time of the year! Do you know which day tomorrow is? The real witches might hear you.”

Apprehensively, he took a step back. “T- the real witches?”

“Oh, yes.” Maven widened her eyes, trying to give herself the appearance of a madwoman. “Has nobody ever told you? No, I suppose they wouldn’t tell this to a child. Trolberg was built upon the grounds in which witches were burnt in ancient times. And every year in All Souls’ Night, they come out for anyone who even vaguely reminds them of their persecutors!” 

It was clear that Maven had scared the boy. He was fidgeting nervously and stuttered when he spoke. Her apprentice, on the other hand, was watching her with curious eyes.

“They come… come out? To do what?”

Abruptly, Maven grasped the grids and and pulled her body forward, her face only inches from him.

“TO BURN THEM!”

Trevor began screaming and ran away with fright. Barely containing her laughter, the librarian stood up again and took Hilda’s hand.

“Let’s get out of here before he comes back with an adult and I get sued.”

They ran away to the next block playfully, Hilda’s giggles stopping Maven from regretting wasting her time on some ignorant kid. When they had left the school behind, they returned to their normal pace.

“Is that why you were worried?” The librarian asked, noticing Hilda looked much lighter now. Rubbing her neck, Hilda nodded.

“Yeah. I don’t really mind him calling me a witch. He’s a nasty person, really. I just didn’t want him to give you a hard time. I heard him calling you a witch too one day, you know, and his mother will believe anything he says. I was afraid he’d try and cause you some trouble, is all.”

Touched by Hilda’s worry for her, Maven put a hand on her shoulder affectionately.

“Don’t worry, Hildie, I don’t think there’s anything he can do against me. This sort of person already doesn’t go to the library, anyway.”

Hilda chuckled and smiled up at her.

“Yeah, they probably don’t. Was any of what you said true, by the way? About the witches?”

This time it was Maven who chuckled, thinking about the bunch of nonsense she’d come up with.

“No, I was just trying to scare the boy into being a little less unbearable. The city doesn’t really like us, but there were never witch burnings in this area. Plus, we are the real witches.”

Both relieved to know the city hadn’t, in fact, been built upon witch hunt grounds, and emboldened by Maven’s statement, the girl stood up straighter as she walked. They began trading stories about their days, the librarian listening eagerly as her apprentice told her about her classes and her friends. Eventually, though, when they were close to arriving in Hilda’s home, she restarted on their previous topic.

“I’m glad you came with me.” She said. “I’m not too worried about these creatures you mentioned, but… I did always find humans scarier.”

Looking up at her mentor, Hilda was somewhat surprised to find the utter empathy on her face.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Hilda nodded.

“I do too. Unfortunately I came to find there are humans much scarier than any monster that I have seen. There are monsters who resent witches, of course, since technically we’re humans. But to some humans, we fall in the same category as said monsters. At least magical creatures aren’t too selfishly scared of us to try and see past their prejudices.”

“That’s exactly it!” Hilda exclaimed. When she came to think of it, that was the first time in her life someone seemed to understand that part of her. “There are great humans, obviously. It’s just kind of scary to try to find out which type of human each one is.”

“And yet we keep on trying. That’s how brave we are.”

“Yeah!” As she raised her hand to high five Maven, she noticed that she didn’t seem too used to the gesture. Hilda hadn’t been either, since she grew up in the wilderness and learned about it with David and Frida, but it struck her as odd since the librarian had grown up in the city.

Soon they arrived at the building in which Hilda lived, and she opened the door.

“Do you want to come inside? Mum is home, we could have some tea.”

“Not today, but thank you.” She nodded discreetly, a small gesture that showed that she was indeed grateful for the invitation. When Hilda was stepping into the building, she spoke again.

“If anyone else gives you a hard time… please tell me about it. I don’t want you to suffer because of who you are.” Maven didn’t know what she’d do in case Hilda did tell her in the future about another mean kid. Past experience showed that she wasn’t apt to handle bullying of any sort, heaven knew. But the thought of Hilda being picked on, especially because of something that was in a way Maven’s fault, didn’t sit well with her.

“Don’t worry, Maven.” Bringing her hand to her forehead, Hilda made a signal which Maven thought was probably the Sparrow Scouts salutation. Never having been part of the group, she didn’t know for sure. “This witch won’t burn!”

They smiled one last time at each other and said their goodbyes. The girl closed the door behind her, but Maven spent a few seconds staring at the wood. Now that she was alone, she got an uncomfortable, sick feeling on her belly. It seemed that the encounter with the boy had affected her more than she had thought, and much more than it should have.

“No.” She whispered, even though there was no one around to hear her. “I will make sure you won’t.”

#wow I really went and said: im gonna make the librarian as feral as i possibly can #and i did it #you go you chaotic mess of a witch #wife's halloween countdown #fic: family fights #my fic #hilda librarian fanfic #hilda fanfic #hilda (hilda) fanfic

[pinespittinink]

|| A Star White Vignette ||

It was a metropolitan planet, a highrise world littered and strung through with interconnected webs of communication and intelligence gathered and passing from 1500 neighboring galaxies. Mateo had left Beverly in a garden dock, surrounded by green things and fluid ornamental trees, flowers dripping like candy and circuitry. He wouldn’t be long. Just a few hours as usual.

A few hours.

He always had to set a timer when touching down, walking amid people and organisms and aliens. He wasn’t good at keeping track of the hours anymore. The timer was strapped round his wrist, glittering white and green. A lifeline to lead him back to the ship, to Beverly.

It would be too easy to get lost down here, especially on a planet like this. Minutes slip too easily into days, into weeks, time spent passing like post-it notes, discarded without thought. It would be too easy to lose track. He’d run into that danger before, stumbling back to Beverly after five months, after eight, after fifteen and thirty and thirty-five.

She made the timer for him when he crawled back after forty-eight, haunted and skeletal, hair lank with dirt and space-dust, misery hanging off his shoulders and dragging him to the ground.

He checked it frequently now, the green numbers chirping to alert him of each marked hour. Poring over library catalogs in an institute larger than a continent, searching for any trace of Abaddon told throughout 1500 galaxies’ shared history.

The timer chirped at his wrist, a sparrow call telling him his hours were up. Beverly would be waiting.

Mateo ground his knuckles into his eyes, stars popping in the black. He could come back, he would. This was a cache of information larger than any he had found so far, and searching for Abaddon was tedious work amid shelves and scans and staticky radio waves and communication archives. He would return to Beverly, drink water, feed the fish, and then he would come back.

He wished she could come with him often, that Beverly wasn’t bound to the wire and blood of the ship. It would be nice to hear her voice keeping him company among the soft humming blue lights and dark stacks.

It was raining when Mateo left the library. Grey sheets coming down and down and down, gleaming in citystate lights, fritzing on neon screens and holograms stretching up the silver heights of skyscrapers, poking through cloud into atmosphere like spires. It felt good, to be in the rain, water finding its way all the way down to his temples and brows and lips, clinging to his fingertips and the collar of his shirt. He could walk back to the garden dock, find his way through the metropolitan along the circulatory system of skyways and viaducts.

Beverly would make fun of him when he returned, soaked through and smiling, but Mateo couldn’t find it in himself to ever be bothered by her kind wit. He knew she would understand anyway; it had been so long since he’d felt the rain.

How easy it would have been. It should have been.

The rain bled through corners, evening-fall coming in pitch amid humming neon and black jungle traffic. It swamped the metropolitan like the deep sea, sunk through the twilight zone to deeper waters, blacker depths where sharp-toothed creatures swam with hooks and lures and emergency lantern eyes.

They snagged Mateo like jaws snapping out of the dark, sharp hands dragging him down an alley, away from the public. An invisible hijacking undercover of pelleting rain and lowcast faces.

Mateo yelled as they tossed him to the ground, grit digging into his palms, gasped a groan as they kicked him in the stomach, punched him in the ribs, punched the air from his lungs. They dug through him for keepsakes, for credits, for guns and contraband and anything that could deliver a spike of ecstasy. They wrenched the timer off his wrist, green and white glittering like jewels, like diamonds thrust underwater, exchanged it for a cuff that burned blue, a manacle vice-tight, clamped to the old-world iron fire escape behind him.

(“No,” he said, “please not that. Please, please.”

“I need it,” he cried, dark hair stuck in strings to his temples, water dripping down his face, warm salt and cold rust at his bruised mouth.

“I need it, please, please.”)

They laughed at him, snarled like shrapnel and shredded metal, deep sea teeth clicking in unhinged jaws. The cuff burned his skin, hissing unceasingly under the rain, a kettle left to scream permanently unattended. Mateo begged and cried, heart fighting to leave through his fingertips, feet scrabbling against gritty concrete.

His ribs splintered with another kick, anguish and cracking bone lost under the rain, a whole city’s ocean pressing down upon him.

They left him in the alley, down below the twilight zone, left the locking mechanism too, just out of reach, at the lip of a fine-ringed grate. It teetered on the ribs for hours, water gushing past, threatening to jostle it with each second. The manacle burned around Mateo’s wrist, stinging hot, a Hades heat, hotter than the tears streaming down his face as he struggled for the device, limbs stretching, shoulder threatening to pop. The manacle burned, and Mateo sobbed and sobbed and screamed with broken lungs, cries and pleas swallowed and drowned under dark water and despair.

The timer was gone, taken with credits and torn pockets. Mateo didn’t know how long the rain had been, didn’t know how many minutes he had gone over, how many hours he had lost. He had lost the sparrow on his wrist, lost the call home.

(Beverly, he thought, crying into his own mouth. His ribs stung, breath sharp and painful, wrist burning, burning, burning.)

Beverly would be waiting for him. She would be worrying, watercolors flashing red and blue, marrow streaked with nerves, rushing all through the walls of the ship like a forest fire.

(“Never again,” she had told him after forty-eight months.

“Never again will you leave that long. You have to come back, Mateo. You have to come back.”)

He had to get back. He had to get back to the ship.

He couldn’t.

The locking mechanism swam before his eyes, threatening to disappear whenever he blinked, lost behind clumped eyelashes and black shadows, obscured by rain.

He thought he saw people pass by the end of the alley, hurrying home through water. Heads bowed all of them, umbrellas casting globular shelters, spheres like marbles rolling away. Mateo cried for them, called for them, begged until the blood washed from his mouth, washed clean down his chin, his slicked, sore throat.

They all of them ignored him.

Ignored or unnoticed, but a frantic brain could be none the wiser. And what did the difference matter when all that did was that they didn’t? They did not turn, did not waver, did not spare a glance or an ear. And who were they to blame, lost and drowned as he was, washed away down an alley, down an oceanic trench, pressure bearing down under tons and tons of dark, of water and sound and beaten things left behind.

(Beverly, he thought. She would be so worried. Tied down like a rock in a garden dock, a ship set to drown like a sailor. He had let her down again, let her down when he promised not to.

Never again, he had agreed, the timer she so readily made for him hugging his wrist.

“I’m so sorry, Beverly.”)

The rain did not stop. Hours and hours and it did not cease, not for an instant. The universe had a cruel irony at times, an unwarranted, unjust karma Mateo berated again and again. He was wet through, drenched and cold, chilled but for the cuff burning around his wrist, held above his head against wrought metal.

Mateo crumpled back against the fire escape, legs stretched out and bent across puddled concrete. His chest heaved, sobs stripped down to shivers, barely able to see but for the faint blue light of the cuff burning against his skin.

(He remembered running into a cave with Daemyung to wait out the rain, wet from the lake. The acid rain came steady and soft, pattering across a beach of polished red stones, glossing them crimson. Lighting spangled blue through the clouds, thunder rumbled summer warm and benign, and he had sat by Daemyung’s side against the cave wall and held his hand to distract him, told him a story about how he learned to swim with his sister in a cerulean community pool that smelled of chlorine and echoed with childhood.)

(“Daemyung,” he whispered, prayer lost on tear-stained wet lips, so soft under rain and endless skyscrapers.

“Daemyung.”)

Hours and hours and hours and hours, and the rain lightened in increments, like blinds being opened millimeter by millimeter. Figures continued to pass the mouth of the alley, a little less blurry, a little more real, but all still ignorant of their periphery. Mateo’s voice was broken, torn and teary and waterlogged, but still he called. Still he pleaded.

They passed and passed, people and hours, rain still falling, dripping cold down deflated lungs. Mateo burned and drowned and died, defeated over and over, timer lost, key to his release teasingly out of reach, a metropolitan Tantalus tortured until the end.

And then, someone came.

He didn’t know if they heard his murmurs, if they glimpsed him like a corpse half-buried in a grave. All he knew is the rains were gray again, morose and pearly, and there was a stranger lingering at the alley mouth, wavering.

(“Please,” Mateo begged, not a frail ounce of strength left to him, barely a single breath left in his lungs.

“Help me, please.”)

Somewhere, sometimes, in the universe, there are Angels. Mateo never questions them when they appear, never has anything to give but broken-hearted thanks.

And he is always so, so thankful.

The stranger’s eyes were large, round by nature and rounder by worry. They approached like a skittish thing, doe-legged and long-fingered, picked up the locking device from its tenuous perch on the ribs of the grate. They held it like a treasure, like a grail, water dripping in strings and spirals. It splashed in a spout beside Mateo, gushing from a runoff high high high above. The rain still came in sheets, but it was gossamer now, light and cold.

The stranger passed through it without pause, came closer and closer, the blue light of the manacle fuzzing across their face.

The cuff fell off with a sizzle and a clink, and even though he had no tears left, no breath to spare, Mateo cried.

He never knew their name.

He ran back to Beverly as fast as he could, hobbled wet and hurting, ribs stinging in his chest. He ran to the garden dock, dragged himself through hydrangeas and artificial lilies, and when he saw the white pod of the ship, he sobbed and sobbed.

Beverly was waiting for him inside, blue and magenta and warscene red turning baby yellow and orange the second she realized he was there, and Mateo crumbled into a heap on the floor as her colors cradled him, crying like a child.

(“Mateo,” she lamented, and he knew she was crying to, the only way she could. “Mateo, you came back. You’re here.”

“You’re home, you’re home, you’re here.”)

Taglist (ask to be added!): @cogesque, @clockworkstars, @emofairykei, @expositionpreposition, @incipientdream, @ink-whiskey-seats, @jc-shay, @wildfaewrites, @writersblockandapotoftea

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writeblr community #star white #my writing #oc: mateo #oc: beverly #ish #i need to beef up her tag #my edits

[xxlittle0birdxx]

WIP: J/B AU fic: The Quiet Isle

One of the things I missed most in the show from the book is the Quiet Isle.  They do have a good reason to be there (and yes I know why and how they get there, but I can’t give you everything at once!). 

Brienne came to, jerking her face away from the astringent aroma, a circle of concerned faces hovering over her.  Jaime’s loomed in her vision.  ‘You fainted,’ he accused.

‘I have never fainted in my life,’ she argued.  

Brother Eston stoppered the small vial and held out a hand to Brienne, helping her sit up. ‘I should like to examine you, my lady.’

‘It’s not necessary,’ Brienne maintained, lurching to her feet.  She regretted it immediately when her stomach rebelled and heaved.  She spun on a heel and stumbled to a nearby tree, vomiting behind it.  As she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, she felt a gentle hand on her elbow.

‘You were saying?’ Brother Eston said dryly.  He steered Brienne to the cottage she shared with Jaime, pausing to pluck a few leaves of mint from one of the plants in an herb garden. He handed them to Brienne who stuck one gratefully into her mouth. The sour taste was going to make her ill again. ‘If you could lie down.’  He glanced at Jaime, who nearly trod on the septon’s feet he was so close behind them.  ‘I think Lady Brienne might feel more at ease, if we had some privacy, my lord.’

Jaime craned his head around Brother Eston.  ‘Brienne?’

She nodded.  ‘I’ll come find you when we’re finished.’  She let her fingers graze over the back of his hand. 

Brother Eston firmly closed the door in Jaime’s face and gestured to the low bed.  ‘My lady?’  Brienne heaved a sigh and stretched out on the bed, hands folded over her stomach.  The septon held his hands out over her.  ‘With your permission, I will need to touch you.’  He laid a hand over hers.  ‘Just here.’  Brienne hesitated, then let her own hands fall to her sides.  He began to prod her belly.  ‘When was the last time you bled, my lady?’ he asked dispassionately.

Brienne’s eyes closed.  The last time she could clearly remember had been just before they left Casterly Rock.  Between traveling to the Wall, waiting for the Night’s Watch contingent to return from Hardhome, and trying to find a port that had a boat that would ferry them to Tarth, she hadn’t noticed its absence.  ‘A few months,’ she admitted.  ‘No more than three.’

‘And…’ Brother Eston coughed discreetly. ‘Relations with your husband…?’

Brienne’s face felt like it was on fire.  ‘Often enough,’ she choked, keeping her eyes fixed on a spot directly overhead. 

‘Have you been drinking moon tea?’

‘No.  I tried it a few times when I was younger, so I didn’t bleed,’ she said.  It didn’t seem that long ago, when Renly called his banners, and Brienne implored her father to let her go. She’d asked the maester for it, hoping the moon tea would help her avoid the rather inconvenient monthly bleeding while in an army camp.  ‘It made me dizzy, and I fell down a staircase.’  She fingered the scar over her lip, freshly healed when she left Tarth.  ‘So I never used it again.’  Brienne felt the prickle of gooseflesh ripple over her arms.  The disinterest in food, especially early in the morning.  She had attributed it to the indifferently cooked food served at Castle Black, and then the plain soldiers’ rations they ate when they made camp for the night while they had travelled through the North and the Riverlands.  The bone-deep weariness that  stubbornly refused to dissipate, even though she fell asleep soon after dinner and slept deeply until the sun rose and Jaime woke her.  One hand drifted up and traced the ridge of the strip of linen under her shirt that she’d used to bind her breasts.  Slight as they were, she rarely had to do so, and eschewed the corestry most women employed.  But when they’d left Castle Black, the incessant jiggling made riding exceedingly uncomfortable, so she’d resorted to tearing one of her spare shirts into strips.  The pieces fell into place when placed next to the fact that she hadn’t bled since they had stayed in Casterly Rock.  They were signs her childhood septa had taught her to recognize, should she ever marry.  ‘I’m pregnant, aren’t I?’

‘It appears that way.  You ought to feel movement within a few more weeks.  I’m told it feels rather like soap bubbles popping inside.’  Brother Eston sat back on his heels, head cocked to the side like a sparrow taking in the troubled frown on Brienne’s face as she sat up.  ‘I gather this isn’t joyous news.’

‘The timing is not ideal.’  Brienne shrugged.  ‘When is there ever a perfect window of time to bear a child?’

Brother Eston didn’t laugh, but his mouth turned up a little.  ‘My child, if we lived our lives waiting for just the right time, we might have died out ages ago.’  He reached out and laid a hand on Brienne’s head.  ‘May the Mother bless you, child, and see you safe through your labors.’  He stood and shook out his robes.  ‘If your party is well enough to travel, you should return to your home.  There is much for you to do before the child comes.  We will ensure you safe passage to Saltpans by boat or on land if the tide is out.’  Brother Eston inclined his head a fraction of an inch.  ‘My lady…’  He left the cottage in a swirl of brown and dun wool.

Brienne leaned back against the wall of the cottage.  Catelyn Stark had called childbirth a sort of battle.  One where women fought and no one sang songs to celebrate their triumphs or mourn their losses.  And now she would learn those unsung songs.  Brienne rose to her feet and left the cottage in search of Jaime.  She found him sitting on a boulder, staring out at the Bay of Crabs.  She perched on the boulder next to him.  ‘When I was younger,’ she began, ‘I believed in the stories where a handsome knight comes to fight a ferocious dragon guarding a tower, and then marries the maiden that was imprisoned inside.’

‘Sounds like Sansa,’ Jaime quipped.  

Brienne turned her severe gaze on him and the grin slid from his face.  He leaned back and waited with an expectant furrow upon his brow.  ‘Until I was… fourteen… perhaps, I believed that would happen for me.  That I would wake up one morning and the witch’s spell would be broken, and I wouldn’t look like Brienne the Beauty.  I would be a warrior queen, like Visenya Targaryen.’  She could always picture it so clearly.  Visenya was said to have been more striking to look at than beautiful, and Brienne would have settled for pleasing features instead of her rather plain and somewhat mismatched face.  ‘And I would find a fair prince to marry.  And we would have…’  She took in a deep breath of briny air.  ‘Children,’ she managed to say.  ‘And then my father held that disaster of a ball.  And I began to tell myself that I didn’t want any of it.  I convinced myself it wasn’t me, and it never was.’

‘Brienne?’  Jaime covered her knee with his hand.  It was quite unlike her to ramble on so.  ‘If I might interrupt…’  He avoided looking at her, for fear she would bolt rather like a skittish horse.  He’d had his suspicions for some days, and had been waiting for an opportune moment to voice them.  The tentative way she circled around the topic meant it might be sundown by the time she worked up the nerve to actually say the words, so he plunged ahead.  ‘Are you…’  His throat closed.  ‘Pregnant?’

Brienne nodded.  ‘Yes.’

‘I see.’  Jaime tuned to look at her, then.  Her mouth was set into a grim line and her body as tense as a bowstring.   ‘Will you be completely honest with me?’

‘Always.’

‘Do you wish to have the child?’ Jaime asked faintly, his heart in his throat.  He could not blame her if she did not while his father was alive.  His claws were already too-firmly embedded in their lives.  He could all too clearly envision his father preparing the marriage contracts between this child and one of the other Houses before they could celebrate its first name day. 

‘We’ve both been taught to do our duty,’ she replied dully, eyes wide and fixed on the horizon.  ‘And this is mine.’

Jaime grabbed her shoulder and forcibly turned her to face him.  ‘Fuck duty,’ he hissed.  His fingers dug painfully into her shoulder.  ‘Don’t do this because it’s what my father wants and expects.’  Brienne’s mouth dropped open.  ‘Or yours,’ he added.  She stared at him, dumbstruck.  He shook her a little.  ‘Do you want it?  Because if you don’t, I will brew the moon tea for you myself.’  

‘I…’  Brienne squeezed her eyes shut.  ‘Yes.’  Her shoulders slumped.  ‘Odd as that might seem.’  She opened her eyes and stared down at her hands.  ‘It is only fair to ask…  Do you want…?’  One hand moved just enough to brush over her middle.

Jaime touched the back of her hand.  ‘I do.   More than you could possibly imagine.’

‘But your father…’  Brienne bit her lip, then blurted in a burst of passion, ‘I do not want our child to become another piece in his game.  To use in order to arrange a marriage with the Tarlys or Daynes, or Stranger take him, the Freys.’

‘He will not come near our child if I can help it,’ Jaime vowed.  ‘I swear it by the old gods and the new.’  Brienne exhaled with a shuddering sigh.  ‘Do you want to tell the others?’

Brienne shook her head.  ‘Not yet.’  She wanted to keep this between the two of them until she had a chance to get used to the idea of becoming a mother.  ‘When we arrive at Evenfall.  We can tell Pod, Sansa, and Tyrion along with my father.’

‘The sooner we’re on Tarth, the better.’  Jaime leaned his shoulder against Brienne’s.  He hoped Tarth would be the sorely needed respite they craved.  

‘We cannot hide on Tarth forever,’ Brienne told him.  ‘Or keep our presence there a secret.’

‘No.  But it might buy us enough time to figure out a way to do this on our terms and not my father’s.  I’ll speak with Brother Eston.  We’ll leave tomorrow if possible.  Perhaps we can find a boat sailing from Saltpans.  If not we’ll continue to Gulltown.’  He slid off the boulder, feeling the first flutters of giddy joy.  He glanced at Brienne, who remained motionless on the boulder, hands clenched into fists on her knees.  ‘Brienne?’  She looked up at him.  ‘This is good.’

‘Even with what’s beyond the Wall?’ she retorted.  He’d wept in her arms more than once since returning from Hardhome, upon waking from a nightmare.

The simple question gave Jaime pause.  It might be better for them both if she did drink moon tea.  He’d left her behind once, and if it came to a fight to defend their home from that thing north of the Wall, she would not be left behind again.  After what he’d witnessed at Hardhome, Jaime was keenly aware of the risks in bringing a child into this world.  If he and Brienne were to fall in the fight for the living, he would be content to die, knowing it might make it possible for their child to live.  He cupped her face in his hand.  ‘Especially with what’s beyond the Wall.’

#brienne of tarth #jaime lannister #braime #jaime x brienne #braime fanfic #braime fanfiction #game of thrones (tv) au #got fanfiction #got AU fanfic #the quiet isle #hardhome #bringing some of book!brienne to show!brienne #it wasn't part of her plan #the beginning of the braime bunch #work in progress #current wip

[bluesunsdusk]

Just gonna answer asks from this meme 

if you have a ‘main muse’, who besides them do you think could be your main muse?

Roland or Sigma, in all honesty. Roland can be so loud when he is active that he just puts everyone else in the dugout. 

is there a muse you write a lot that you’re tired of writing?

Whenever Sigma goes on hiatus, yes. 

is there a muse you never write, but want to write more?

Andoris and Breige. 

how many muses did you have when you started your blog? how many do you have now?

This blog specifically? I think eight or so. Maybe ten. It was a Mass Effect blog I ended up never using.

what are your criteria for adding new muses?

Do I want to? 

what’s the max amount of muses you’re willing to have at one time?

I don’t know.

have you ever dropped muses from your blog? if so, were there any you dropped but brought back later?

Yes. I Think I have dropped Nihlus, Merhunes Dagon, Sanguine, X3-28, Lucius, Nadine, etc. Though not all of them were dropped from this blog.

do you have a muse who is a terrible person, but very fun to write?

Um... See, I thought Roland, but he isn’t actually terrible. Set. Set is terrible.  

which of your muses do you find the most difficult to get down correctly?

At times, Sigma. I am, as you may have noticed, not an astrophysicist and I do not consume the same media he would as much as some people I know. Also, unlike with other people, I need to keep Dutchisms in mind considering his word usage to make it seem more authentic. Then we have Mamun, for whom I need to do cultural research for a culture I am not a part of.

how upset do you get when someone doesn’t specify muse?

Kind of annoyed tbh when people do it often or several people do it. Not always, but it’s not hard to tell me who you want to interact with. When you don’t while I am not close with you, and you do it consistently, you just come off as either lazy or apathetic, like you didn’t even bother to know which muses I have or you just stopped caring. This is a multimuse. Everyone who follows this blog knows that, or should, at least try to make it easier for me by actually telling me what you want. It’s not that hard. I don’t want to have to constantly ask people or guess what muse someone is trying to send asks for. 

With hc asks, it’s not so annoying, because I can just pick and choose who I want to answer with, but interaction prompts are so annoying without specification, especially when it’s something like a kissing prompt from someone I have never interacted with and it’s not specified and the blog doesn’t meet any of the requirements I have set forth. To be frank, I delete those asks, because it’s just plain rude. 

For people I do interact with, most specify muse, so I just ask who they meant to sent something in for. That, or I know them well enough to guess. Though, no one should assume that is the case. It’s always best to both specify that the ask is from you if you’re on anon, and for who the ask is, whether that be through names or descriptors in dialog or a small note.

if you could make a solo blog for any of your muses, who would it be?

Some already have or had solo blogs. These are: Set, King Logan, Sparrow, Magnus, Jyggalag, Mehrunes Dagon, Sanguine, Lluthren (though he is currently a hidden muse), Evfra, and Nihlus. 

which muse that you currently have was the first you ever roleplayed?

Sanguine, actually. He’s not very active, but I started him as an ask blog where I did sketch replies, but it evolved into rp.

what are some things you like about multis that solo blogs don’t offer? what about the other way around; are there things you like about solo blogs that you can’t apply to a multi?

Solo blogs are very straight forward. You like the muse and you follow. Now, you have the same with multimuses, in that you like one or more muses and you follow, though most feel it would be rude if they followed someone for just one muse and avoid doing it. However, more comes into play in that now you have choice. There’s so many muses to choose from, and that is great, and that is one of their strengths, because it adds flexibility and allows a blog to stay active even when one character has low muse, but it can be hard on days when I have no energy and I don’t want to be sending prompts to the same one or two characters all the time. 

That, and it can take longer to remember which options are available on each blog when they have as many muses as I do. Though, most have about six muses per fandom or so, which is easier to remember. 

Anyway, single muse is straightforward and have a nice focus to them, but a multimuse is like browsing a candy store and being overloaded with choices that you all like. 

which of your muses is the most friendly to strangers? which is the least friendly?

Least friendly would be Set. Then again... Could be hungerbitten Logan, seeing as he is rather skittish and might attack someone. No, it’s Set. 

The friendliest would be Enduril, Aidan (pre-Fable 3), and Mamun. 

who are you feeling the most muse for right now?

Right now? Roland, I guess. Warlock Sigma was a few days ago. 

who’s your default muse for new interactions?

I don’t really have one. It depends on the other person’s muse. With one, it might be Roland or Spigel, with another it might be Set. It depends on the fandom and setting, too. 

how often would you say you add new muses?

Every day. That’s why I have 365 muses. Jk. I had between the 40 and 50. I don’t know.

if you were to drop one muse from your current roster, which one would it be?

Nihlus, maybe?

what are some annoying things you have to deal with from others that solo blogs don’t?

Well, there was the aforementioned people not specifying for who an ask is far too often. Then there’s people who know this is an oc heavy blog and come here despite being “critical of ocs” because I have some canon muses on there. Though, that’s less down to being a multi and more down to being mixed between oc and canon. 

Another annoying thing is sorting. You need to do more effort to keep things orderly with multimuses. Tumblr fucks up tags and fancy tags will be lost and forgotten, especially when you have many muses, so I keep my tags as simple as possible. 

Sometimes, you have many things for one muse on the same blog, but then this other muse is the one being most active. 

There are also times when one muse’s personality or energy rubs off on another. I have had Roland’s chaotic energy rub off on Sigma numerous times. Sigma just feels the zoomies and is like aight. 

which of your muses is the most responsive to crack interactions or dash fuckery?

Roland or Spigel. 

#ooc #long post

[glimmergold]

Mother

“Hi Minn’da!” calls Lysuath, as he lets himself in to the apartment and gently shushes the puppy, the little thing still wriggly and overexcited.

All the curtains are shut tight because it’s early, but that’s to be expected. He’s going to wake her up but he has breakfast and juice so she won’t be too annoyed. Not that she ever is by these visits. He doesn’t see her nearly as often as he should.

He tiptoes into the bedroom where she’s still little more than a collection of shapes beneath the covers. The box of food and flask go on the bedside table as he opens the curtains a crack to an immediate protest from the bed.

“Ngh… Go away, sprog. Too early…”

Lysuath snorts and drops the puppy on top of her. “Tell Cheesecake that.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and watches his mother be drawn from her cocoon by the enthusiastic overtures of a happy corgi and smiles. There’s peace here that he knows nowhere else.

Nereia Dawnheart, wrapped in her robe with her hair piled messily atop her head, ageing disgracefully and fussing a puppy. There’s no sight more welcome in his life. Finally she gets to breakfast, as Lysuath distracts the absurd creature with tickling and ruffles.

“So what’s this in aid of then? And don’t say you were missing me, I doubt you have time to,” she asks, eyeing him speculatively over a pastry.

Lysuath gestures to the dog. “He’s for you. I thought you could use the company.”

“You just turned up at sparrow’s fart to give your old mother a dog?” She arches one red brow in perfect scepticism.

“‘Oh, thank you so much Lysuath! He’s adorable, Lysuath! I shall walk him every day and think of you, my darling boy!’,” he mocks, with no sting in it. “I can’t keep him. No time, like you said, and he can’t follow me where I’m going.”

He ruffles Cheesecake’s chubby canid cheeks with a faint stirring of guilt.

“Who gave him to you then?” asks Nereia.

“What?” Lysuath looks up with a blink.

“You wouldn’t have taken him for yourself, so you didn’t buy or rescue him. But he’s precious enough to you that you don’t want to just dump or sell him. So. Someone gave him to you. Someone that means something.” She takes a smug sip of her juice.

Sighing, Lysuath snatches up a cushion to fiddle with. “Someone I have to work with, and who I… Who I don’t like to hurt. I don’t know. He likes me too much. Enough that I don’t want to be callous.”

“You’d throw a Magister’s emeralds into the fountain, but here you are making sure a dog is well looked after. What a strange boy you are, my darling,” says Nereia, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair back behind his ear.

“Emeralds are uninspired and so was he…” he mutters, feeling a child all over again and pinned by the weight of his mother’s curiosity.

“Boring old git, yes. Fine, I won’t push. Take happiness where you find it, but if he gives you more animals try to foist them off elsewhere? I’ll take this one because he’s cute,” she allows, as Cheesecake snuffles back over to her side and cuddles in, at home already. “What else have you been up to?”

“The Darkmoon Faire. Finding a new teacher. Making friends.” He twists the tassel on the cushion around and around.

“The one in the Ghostlands didn’t work out?” Nereia’s eyes, always quick, flit to the sleeves he has worn coming to see her ever since taking that particular post.

“No. Still not quite sure about the new one yet either. But there are others too. One likes to dance, she’s going to help my hand-to-hand skills. A good group actually. Not too dull. Lots of trolls.”

Nereia doesn’t ask why it didn’t work out, nor the cause for Lysuath’s uncertainty, just lays a hand on his arm and pretends not to feel the scars through his shirt. He will tell her, or he won’t, and that’s always how it’s been with them.

“Good,” she says. “Letting you get bored is a hazard to all life on this world and I really can’t be bothered to go wherever pops into the sky next. Please do not bring trolls back here, thank you.”

“You’d like Maz. And Yazu.”

“Are those the two that don’t take any of your shit?”

“Uh huh.” He grins and then turns at her tap on his shoulder so she can braid his hair.

“The one who dances. What’s her name? Do I know her?” she asks, leaning over to snatch the brush from the bedside table and setting to work.

“Amornia Ashwreath, and I doubt you do. She’s scary as hell though, Minn’da. Moves like a ghost. Ow.”

“Should’ve brushed it before you came over if you didn’t want it to hurt, sprog. What’s the new teacher called?” Nereia is merciless with the brush even after he complains.

“Kyr Lythorilien. I don’t think you’re going to know him either. He likes birds. And ranting.” And blaming his problems on other people, but Lysuath doesn’t think his mother needs to know that part. She’d only get angry and do something embarrassing.

“Mm, and sensible trolls. The mystery man. Anyone else?”

“Girl called Bevois. Skittish as anything, but she’s good. Fun. The kind of person you’d want to teach how to crush people with a glance,” says Lysuath, dropping his head forward so she

can get at the back of his neck. “It’s weird though.”

“Hm?”

“All the other elves are so thin! It’s like they never eat. Ever. I’m hoping I never have to share a reflection with any of them because I will not cope. Am I fat, Minn’da? Be honest.”

Rolling her eyes, Nereia smacks his shoulder with the back of the brush. “Piss. With your metabolism? Honestly. Do I have to go and have a word?”

They laugh together at the notion of it.

“Like with Filavel and my hair. Everyone thought you were going to kill her,” says Lysuath. “She’s still lucky I didn’t, with how slow it grows. You looked awful.” Her clever fingers start on braids, taking the time as if assuring herself that it’s all still there.

“She was twelve. She nearly wet herself.”

“And she still avoids me if we’re in the Bazaar at the same time. It’s immensely satisfying.”

They go on until Lysuath’s hair is neat and tidy, tossing memories back and forth over the dog and hairbrush as the sun climbs through the gap in the curtains. It feels blessed, as if no world beyond the room exists, as if nothing can shatter their bubble of peace.

As if.

#writing #mine #world of warcraft #blood elf #blood elves

[suolainensilakka]

WOW im real chatty today huh

hsgdjsdg anyways hi friends I have made several new bnha ocs and im excited for yall to meet em :}

along with shinju, my current kids include:

- sparrow, a very skittish and jumpy pro hero with a harpy quirk who used to be afraid of heights as a kid

- green thumb, a bright and sunny gardening hero with a plant manipulation quirk and who is also everyone’s designated mom friend

- yellowjacket, an underground hero with venom spurs on his heels and who really likes kickboxing

- caiman, another underground hero who essentially is just an anthro crocodilian

- robin, a birdlike american pro hero who is also sparrow’s bf and the leader of a small group of american heroes called Team Talon

- strafe, a very tall and intimidating but also super polite pro hero who can create thin, fluid-like tendrils from his skin that he can ensnare enemies with and use to help him move around and climb practically anywhere (similar to the venom symbiote from marvel comics) (part of team talon)

- mimic, a nb pro hero with a voice modulator quirk that allows them to copy the voice of anyone they have previously heard talking including being able to mimic the tone, timbre and speech pattern (also a part of team talon)

- artemis, team talon’s sniper with incredibly accurate aim who uses a bow and arrows and can essentially hit any target from any distance as long as said target is clearly in her line of vision

- hourhand, she can create temporary time bubbles that dramatically slow down time around the affected person/object

- howler, a very friendly werewolf hero who is essentially everyone’s honorary uncle and works as a teacher as well

- north star, a mixed russian/japanese hero whose quirk cycles through different zodiac signs and allows her to manifest parts and equipment (like armor, weapons and extra limbs) related to the currently active zodiac sign (this ones complicated to explain but super fun to think about gdhJDHG)

- pinpoint, a relatively harmless-looking sidekick who can analyze an opponent’s movement and fighting pattern (including weaknesses) from about a minute of observing them

- splinter, a young and mischievous villain with a bone manipulation quirk who’s honestly far more interested in causing chaos than actually hurting people (but will not be afraid to Stab if you’re in the way)

- pincushion (real name: hari takifugu), a first-year ua hero student with a pufferfish quirk that covers her in toxic spines that she can flare out as armor, said toxin also amplifies any affected person’s pain responses by threefold for a few minutes at a time

- and also ideas for three more that I haven’t fully figured out yet ghjsgdjhg

lord help me im back on my bullshit but uuhhhhhhhhhhhh b,,,,, bnha,, Good

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha oc #bnha ocs #saltfish speaks #suolaocs #i have. so many bnha ocs. and i keep creating MORE

[swifty-is-my-name]

BHNA Idea

Okay, so I had a really awesome AU idea!

BHNA Thumbalina AU! I need this

Izuku as of course Thumbelina so cute and small boi!

Katsuki at the Fairy Prince and all around badass 

Eijirou his shapeshifting dragonfly buddy/wingman 

Tsu as...a toad...but really she’s the Frog daughter in love with a pretty little firefly named Ochako and wants to be with her regardless that Mother Toad wants her to marry Izuku

Ochako as the Firefly that is in love with a frog and sadly/forcible engaged to a beetle named Dabi

Dabi a beetle that was engaged to Ochako but broke it off when she ran off to be a frog *he was chill about it though* takes an interest in small boi Izuku

Mashirao the field mouse *That tail reminds me of a field mouse sometimes* that saves Izuku from freezing to near death and has a crush of Hitoshi the mole

Hitoshi the mole that like Izuku and pays Mashirao to convince Izuku to marry him but will later realize that the cute field mouse likes him back...

Fumikage the sparrow that fell down the mole’s hole and was nursed back to health by Izuku and later helped him find the vale of the fairies

Izuku gazed at the book before him glancing at the dancing fairies that graced the pages, a smile crossed his face as he swayed to his own humming, a gentle tune he’d often hear his mother singing “I know there is somewhere, someone”  He sang gently getting the attention of some of the animals his mother tended “Someone who's sure to find me soon” He sang gently bow to the book “After the rain goes there are rainbows” Izuku turned to the window pains and began dancing in front of them smiling to himself “I’ll find my rainbow soon, soon it won’t just be pretending” He sang a little higher unaware he had garnered an audience 

Prince Katsuki Bakugou of the fairies zoomed through flower petals and wheat petals, his friend the dragonfly Eijirou Kirishima had helped him escape the fucked up parade his parents were forcing him to participate in, and hell to the no if they thought they could get him to ride a fucking butterfly! “Thanks for the save shitty hair, god that’s fucking embarrassing shit! They want to fucking turn this gold for the fall do it the fuck without me!” He snorted a wild laugh. 

Suddenly something caught his hearing as he passed a human house...a lovely as fuck voice that made his ears demand more! He immediately turned Eijirou around and jumped onto the window sill. The dragonfly shifted taking the form of a young teen with red hair “Bro! Who is that?!” Eijirou said in awe closing his eyes as he listened to the sweet sounding voice. Katsuki smirked “don’t know, but I’m going to find out wait here asshole,” He said slinking in through the window creak 

Izuku giggled as finished his singing and dancing, he bowed again to the book “You’re a wonderful dancer!” He said with glowing cheeks, Katsuki watched this hidden within the shadow, ”Can this fucking moron be any cuter?!” he thought watching with keen interest as the nerd kept talking to the picture.

“Do you have to be so...unreal though?” He said frowning softly as he sank to the ground, “I don’t know about that loser, but I’m pretty real” Katsuki said smirking as the nerd jumped to his feet staring at him in wonder “Wah! Y...you...you’re like the book!” He stuttered looking at him but backing away feeling a little skittish of the handsome blond that stood before him

whatever was Izuku to do?

#my hero academia #bhna #villain deku #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakudeku #fanfic #AU #thumbalina