#dear dusty moth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

08luvmailz · 4 months

Text

𓇼 I'VE REMEMBERED . . ਏਓ !

𖥔 ݁ 𓈒 summary 𓍯 he remembered your favorite color — 🎙 contents : angst

The air bore the fragrance of scented candles, dry flowers and melancholy, a symphony of quiet sorrow woven into the tapestry of twilight, where memories slumbered beneath the dew-kissed grass of lost souls. The man's quiet footsteps, hesitant steps with the echoes of eternity echoing at the hushed place, reverberated through the sacred stillness of the sepulchered landscape. His eyes wandered across the cold tiles as his gaze, heavy with the weight of unspoken solace.

He is only here for one person, one destination.

His youthful eyes clouded with grief and sadness but also a relief. Amidst the silence, a transient of his past, reading your name that fluttered between the dusty tombstone like delicate moths drawn to the flame of remembrance. He sat on the chilly grass as his eyes darkened while reading the transcript of the tombstone.

" It's been a while, my dear. " it burned, His throat tightened with hushed words or how the man's lungs crushed with every breath he'd taken. " I can feel you roll your eyes at me. It's been years since I've visited you. You must have been waiting for a long time. " He closed his eyes as he needed to capture the translucent tears threatening to fall from his eyes.

" Do you perhaps hear me? " his words are as gentle as the breeze on a cold Saturday night. It was all too ironic, too painfully evident for his aching heart. " You may not forgive me as I never visited you since the day... you've left me, your family," he confessed to the quietness. Acceptance was never easy in his forte, the cruel duty of how much he cared and loved. It was never enough to let you stay or bask in your radiance that once and finally left.

The wind carried his burden but never left his body like the air he needed constantly breathe to live as years later, he never changed in the slightest bit. " I wish I could know more about you, so I can show myself, can please you. " In the vulnerability of his words, he sighed. The man found solace in the communion of utterances spoken to the wind. " The regret in my stomach filled me like butterflies, as I only wished that I could touch your delicate face as I confess my undying feeling for you. " His fingers brushed gently and tentatively against the engraved letters that etched the name of his one and only.

His hands gripped tightly to the flowers he brought for you. The smell of it wafted in the air as it reminded him what you smell like. It was different you, had a husky-like smell than these floral flowers but it was only a replica of what you smelled like as it was a mere comfort for him. " I've brought you flowers, it may not be your favorite. But it is your favorite color," he confessed, his voice a soft echo in the stillness.

" You may not see the full-bloomed colors of these flowers nor the color itself, I will be your eyes and nose to tell you that they are beautiful and smelled like you, a bit. " He quietly chuckled as his delicate-ragged fingers plucked one petal. The man's touch became an ode as he caressed the plucked petal, A caress to remember that transcended the veil between them.

My memory with you has faded completely, but I will always remember how you, loved these colors.

The rays of sunlight painted the blue sky as the scent of flowers flowed through his brain, the shadow of a lone willow tree twisted and shaped themselves as his figure standing like a lone wolf. His eyes formed from darkness and a hollow void of coloration turned into light like a burning flame like one that flowed crimson red to the skies. " This would be the first and last time that I would visit you; I would continue living my life… without you. " His lips quirked upwards, a smile that could clash with the sunflowers bathing in sunlight.

He moved on, from you. He finally did the next step on his journey

" You showed me things that I wished to see and this time I'm the only one who will see those things. You have my gratitude and that will always be impeccable and irreplaceable. " He laughed as he spoke those words, words of joy tickled by the melody of his laughter, swayed with a rhythm known as his greatest love for you.

He did it, you must have been so proud.

" Goodbye… my dear, I'll see you soon enough. Wait for me a little longer. " As he walked into the embrace of the sunlight caressing his face, with each step, the memories of you two faded from his view, his eyes wandered one last time at your tombstone as the sunlight beamed on the pavement. It was like an unfinished painting awaiting the strokes of a new beginning.

A beginning without you.

— GOJO . GETO . shoto . obanai . TOJI . NANAMI . choso . LEVI . eren . BAKUGO . HAWKS . dabi . KURAPIKA . killua AGED UP! . CHROLLO . choso . zhongli . XIAO . DAINSLEIF . neuvillette . diluc . wriothesley . KAEYA . tartaglia . kaveh . alhaitham ... your faves

402 notes · View notes

dancingtotuyo · 9 days

Text

drabble. what's that i see?

Woman | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: a unexpected discovery brings Joel acceptance.

Tags: Joel Miller X Female Reader. Age Gap (13/14 years). HBO Characters. Mostly cannon compliant for show & game. Timeline is changed.

Chapter Warnings: pregnancy related things, grief, acceptance, fluff?

Notes: no beta, we die like Gabe, Chris, and Paul.

If you have checked out Before, I would encourage you to do so for more backstory on our dear reader! The final part is out now!

Words: 865

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

The sun still sits below the horizon when a hand roams over your middle and the scruff of Joel’s beard scratches your neck. You don’t bother opening your eyes, a half-assed whine leaving your lips. He chuckles softly. “Just obeyin the rules, Sweetheart. About to head out.” He kisses your cheek.

You crane your head back, eyes opening to small slits. He smiles at you. “Be safe,” you barely manage to say.

Joel nods, minty breath hitting your lips as he kisses you. It’s soft and gentle. It feels like a lazy morning spent in bed, meant to lull you back asleep. “Always.” He kisses your head. “See you at dinner.”

He stops in the doorway, looking back at your sleeping form. You're seven months along now, well rounded in your middle. Your ankles and fingers are swollen. He’s noticed the slight waddle develop in your gait as well. It all makes him smile.

You’ve been taking things one day at a time, but neither have you made any preparations for when the baby gets here. No crib. No clothes. No discussions of a name. You still need time, even though the window rapidly is closing.

Joel thinks about it silently sometimes, especially when he can feel them moving about, the small grunts that leave you when you get a fist to the bladder or a foot in your lungs. What will the baby look like? Will they have your eyes? His smile? Will it be a boy or a girl?

You’re unconscious before the bedroom door clicks behind him.

Patrol has picked this neighborhood over a hundred times in the last decade, but Joel and Tommy still stop. They still rummage through a couple houses. As time goes on, people have had to get more creative. Things that once seemed useless have renewed purpose.

Joel hasn’t been in this house before. It’s a single story. Three bedrooms by his calculation. He rummages through linen closets and dresser drawers while Tommy goes through the kitchen. He finds a couple towels. They have a few holes, presumably from moths, but they can be cut down for rags. He finds a couple bars of soap still in boxes shoved to the back of one.

The last door is stuck. He puts his shoulder into it twice before it gives way. His breath catches the moment he takes in the space. Dust floats around, flickering in the sunlight from the intact window. A crib sits in the corner, covered in dust. The sheets are faded with tiny pink flowers and the walls painted in pastel pink.

He takes in a deep breath, blinking back tears. It’s eerily similar to the pink he’d painted Sarah’s walls right after her birth. He’d painted it over with purple a few years later once she expressed her preference. It brings forward a whole slew of emotions that he hadn’t realized were bubbling under the surface.

What if you were carrying a girl? Would it feel like he was replacing her? Rationally, he knew that wasn’t the case. Ellie had carved her own spot in his heart. So had Carter. Would this be different? Would biology make a difference?

Joel clears his throat, pushing away the moisture from his eyes. It’s extra dusty in here, he reasons.

There’s no closet in the room. He opens up the dresser. Once again, Joel freezes. Light muslin swaddles miraculously untouched by time. One has little yellow flowers against white, and the other has bouquets of pink flowers that match the sheets. They each have a solid color pair to match. He picks them up, expecting them to disintegrate in his hands, but they don’t. They only release little puffs of dust into the air as he shakes them out.

The last one catches his eye, purple butterflies. Tears gather in his eyes again. There’s a tugging in his heart. Joel has never thought much about what comes after this life even before the outbreak when there was time to do so. So much of his life has been spent focusing on survival. Wherever Sarah might be, he knows she led him here. He turns around half expecting to see her smiling at him from the corner.

It’s empty, but he still imagines her there. There’s no doubt in his mind you’re carrying his daughter. It’s a surety in his brain, and for the first time, he’s okay with the idea of a girl. Hell, it might be the first time that he’s truly at peace with this pregnancy. She won’t be a replacement or a placeholder for Sarah, but the little sister she spent years begging for. His heart will grow, create a new space just as it did for Ellie and Carter. He knows that because he can feel her telling him that.

Joel nods to the empty corner clearing his throat. He wipes the moisture from his eyes, shoving the swaddles into his backpack. The drawer of clothes isn't as preserved but he manages to find a few options untouched by two decades of moths and other insects.

He carefully tucks the items into his pack. He’ll give them to you when you’re ready.

#joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader #tlou #woman (joel’s version)#woman (joel miller)#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou hbo #em's fics #pedrostories #pedro stories #ppcu fanfiction

99 notes · View notes

pandoradoesotherstuff · 4 months

Text

A Tight Predicament

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

A/N: Of course my first full Baldur's Gate 3 fic is smut! 😂😂 I didn't want to disappoint anyone. 😏😏

Also, let's just pretend for a minute that Astarion hasn't been sexually traumatised and Gale is less self conscious.

So, this is Gale x Astarion x reader/Tav. I've tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible but reader is described (vaguely) as having female parts down below. (Sorry)

Enjoy!❤️

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

You didn't like separating everyone up. It just made more sense to you to stick together, safety in numbers after all but after clearing out a particularly twisty turny ruin you deemed it safe enough for everyone to do their own thing. Shadowheart backtracked to find a statue of Shar she was sure she had spotted earlier, Gale was one room over checking out some dusty tomes that had been left by the previous occupant and Astarion was behind you working on a particularly tricky lock, murmuring to himself about the want of a skeleton key. Meanwhile, you were sitting on the stone floor trying to wipe the goblin blood off of a new short sword you had found.

It was this particular view that had led you to your current predicament. Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw a flash of purple. Curious, and cautious, as to what could have caused such a thing, you get back on your feet and slowly draw back the moth eaten tapestry to reveal a smallish hole in the brickwork. It was the purple robes of Gale you had seen.

"Hey Astarion!" You call softly over your shoulder, signalling for the vampire spawn to join you.

"Mm?" Comes his inquisitive reply, moving to now stand next to you.

"Bet I could reach through and make Gale scream?" The smirk on Astarion's face makes you reconsider your words, quickly interjecting before he could reply. "Not like that!" God's above...I just mean like, you know, a little spook. In general. No other screaming involved." You're looking at anywhere else in the room except at the annoyingly handsome vampire, already feeling your cheeks start to flush red.

"Of course my dear, I'd never dream of suggesting anything else", faux innocence colouring his voice. "But do carry on, I'd love to see that obnoxious wizard cry out for his beloved Mystra". You bristle at the name of Gale's ex-lover but stay silent, instead bending over and bracing yourself on the stone wall.

It was rough on your hands as you carefully pulled yourself through just a little, thankful it was at the perfect height so your feet didn't leave floor.

"Even if you don't succeed in frightening Gale, this view alone is worth it".

You ignore Astarion's flirty comment, shimmying a little further in only to see Gale wasn't quite in your reach just yet. You'd have to move in just a little bit more...

"Merlin's beard!!"

You'd been so busy trying to shuffle further that you hadn't noticed Gale turning around, finally spotting you.

"Hello", you grin sheepishly.

"What in the name of Ao are you doing?!" He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose and snapping the tome shut with the other.

"Isn't it obvious?" Astarion's muffled voice comes through the wall you were currently lodged in. Nervous energy flutters in your stomach as you feel the vampire's hands hold on to your hips lightly. You try to move yourself backwards only to find that you are now completely stuck. You try again, grunting slightly as the jagged solid brick digs into your hips.

"Wait," Astarion begins. Voice barely concealing a laugh as his fingers now begin to creep up under your armoured tunic. "Are you trapped?" He asks incredulously. You cover your face with your hands, a deep blush now settling on your cheeks.

"Yes, okay? Let's not make a big deal out of it". You mumble, trying your best to ignore your occasional lover's adept fingers toying with your belt buckle.

"Are you quite alright?" Gale asks, seemingly genuinely concerned as he leans in slightly for a closer look at the brickwork that had trapped you. Probably already figuring out a magical way to free you.

"I'm fine, despite my...situation. My ego is definitely more bruised than anything." You sigh resignedly.

"Not to worry, between Astarion and myself, I'm sure we'll have you out in a jiffy". Gske smiles reassuringly while crouching down to now be eye level with you.

"Well Gale, let's not be so hasty". Astarion's large hands now squeeze your ass as he talks, you bite your lip trying not to react. "This is a very interesting position our dear fearless leader has found themselves in. It almost seems a waste to not...explore this opportunity to its fullest." Astarion pushes his knee in between your thighs. Gods, this was akin to torture!

"Astarion!" You hiss in warning. Although in warning of what you don't know, it wasn't like you could do much.

"Are you alright? Is he hurting you?" Gale is looking at you so sincerely with those warm brown eyes of his. If this was any other situation, you would have melted. Astarion's laughter snaps you out of your trance, the sound of your belt hitting the floor making you close your eyes in embarrassment.

"You know Gale, it's no secret that you pine after them. We've all seen your lingering stares over the bonfire, bounding after them like an excited little pup. So so eager to please. It's all rather adorable, you know. And to think, Tav here would give you everything if you just asked." Astarion punctuates his words by grinding his knee against your heated core. Gale's eyes noticeably darken as you whimper loudly, hips trying to move against him but finding it impossible. The rogue then continues talking as if nothing was amiss. "They're annoyingly fond of you too. Personally, I don't see it but I am known for my impeccable taste, so make of it what you will I suppose".

There was a beat of silence as the wizard before you tries to take in all that had just happened, his dexterous fingers nervously playing with a little piece of the weave.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to Gale." You say quietly, trying your best to ignore Astarion still pressed tightly behind you. The wizard smiles softly at you, large calloused hand coming up to gently cup your cheek.

"Even in the most compromising position you still try to look after foolish wizards like me."

"Someone's gotta."

His lips touch yours hesitantly, warm and soft, pausing as he waits for you to react. You smile into the kiss as you slowly work your lips together. The tadpole begins to niggle in your brain, you can feel Astarion trying to enter your mind. Gale sighs into your mouth before pulling back slightly to speak. "So impatient," he quietly scolds so only you can hear it. "Let him in then, least we never hear the end of it."

You'll never get used to the gnawing wriggling sensation of connecting to another tadpole, not that you want too. The frown on Gale's face tells you that he too, is seeing the same thing.

It's Astarion's view of you, your belt lying on the floor, armoured tunic bunched above your waist, his knee still firmly pressed against your core. You can feel the heat of arousal radiating from yourself, hear the way your pulse races under your skin. Astarion removes his knee, and you can't help the disappointed mewl that slips out. You both watch as he yanks your leather leggings down, your underclothes barely covering you, slick already dampening the thin fabric. Astarion's voice echos in your mind, as though whispering directly in your ear. "Yes yes, lovely heartfelt confessions all round but-" his fingers teasingly trail over your underclothes causing you to whimper again, the material now clinging to you with wetness. "-I think we all know what we're really thinking about".

The tadpole disengages and you gasp as though resurfacing from being underwater. You open your eyes to see Gale gazing at you with a dark lustful stare.

"I don't usually rush into these types of things. I like to pursue someone romantically first. And yet, now that we're here at this very precipice, at a very crucial part in our relationship. I-"

"-Hells below, Gale!! Would you hurry up and kiss them again already?! How much more of a bloody invitation do you need??"

The wizard rolls his eyes before you quickly reach out and grab his robes, pulling him in for a more passionate kiss. You can't help but whine into his mouth as Astarion behind you slowly pulls down your underclothes, velvet swollen head nudging against your dripping core.

"Please...p-please..." You mutter against Gale's lips before your moan gets swallowed by him as your vampire lover finally pushes inside you, deliciously slowly stretching you around him. His chilled fingers stroke your spine soothingly as his girth strokes your walls expertly at a teasing pace.

"My perfect treasure", he murmurs affectionately. Your fingers thread into Gale's hair, tugging on the silly strands as he kisses you with a passion you didn't quite know he was capable of.

"What...hmph...what do you...what do you need? A-anything".

One idea springs to mind.

"Stand up." You pull back, panting a little, teeth biting at your bottom lip as Astarion picks up the pace a little, his hands now gripping your hips tightly.

"Now what?" The wizard's voice was husky with lust, his lips kiss swollen.

You hungrily reach for the snaps that hold back what you so eagerly wanted, making short work of them. There's a pause as you lock eyes, an understanding flits between you.

"Are you sure?" He asks softly. You can only nod, not trusting your voice to do anything but whine and whimper from the rogue's short shallow thrusts behind you.

"As you wish." Gale hesitates, a look of self-consciousness crossing his face for a second before finally freeing himself from the tight confines of his trousers. Your breath catches in your throat, his girth was impressive to say the least.

"Gods Gale!" Comes Astarion's voice from through the wall. "I don't know what the bloody hells you did to them, but keep doing it!"

You feel a blush on your cheeks deepen, from lust or from Astarion's comment you don't know. Gale gently cups your chin, looking more than a little pleased with himself, as he guides his thick hard cock closer towards you. Your mouth waters as you kitten lick his swollen head, precum salty and surprisingly delicious on your tongue. Gale watches you with a dark intensity as you grab his hips and slowly pulled him deeper into your throat a little at a time. He wasn't as long as Astarion but definitely girthier, you focus on swallowing around him, trying hard not to choke. His dexterous fingers tangle in your hair, petting you encouragingly as he begins to move his hips slowly at first. You've never felt so full or satisfied in your life. Two exceedingly handsome men filling you up over and over again. You can only imagine how lewd you must look like that, so different from your usual composed and in control leader role.

Whether it was you, Astarion or Gale you don't know but once again you feel the tadpole connect. It almost felt like it shivered with pleasure

You can feel yourself getting filled up over and over again, taste the salty precum on your tongue, feel the heat and slick of your fluttering walls surround Astarion, feel your own throat swallow around Gale, choking on his thickness.

Both men are caught up in the multihood of sensations flooding their senses, using your body to chase their own pleasure as your thighs shake and your fingers grasp onto the purple robes of Gale tightly. Your moans and whines are muffled around the taller man as you feel the rogue's clever fingers rub at your clit perfectly, urging you closer to the end.

"Cum f-for me, for us! Cum for u-us our b-beloved!"

Pleasure ahoots through your entire body, nerves on fire as stars burst before your eyes and you almost feel light headed. Astarion's quick sharp thrusts stutter behind you into a frenzied arrhythmic pace, groaning low in his throat as he empties himself into you, fingers gripping bruises onto your skin. Gale's hands tangle in your hair, nails scraping your scalp, your name slipping out from between his lips like the sweetest prayer. You bring a shakey hand up to his heavy balls, lightly squeezing and fondling them, urging him to paint your throat white. With a strangled noise from Gale, you feel them draw up tight as the taste of his seed fills your mouth and dribbles out the corner of your lips.

You don't get a second to bask in the glow of your filthy but fun act before Shadowheart's haughty voice yells from a distance.

"I know you said we should 'stick together' but I didn't realise you meant that close! Now if you're all finished, we have a tadpole that needs removing!"

You've never wanted the ground to swallow you up more in your life.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x reader #astarion x gale x tav

103 notes · View notes

aifanfictions · 7 months

Note

write a love story about (y/n) and Alastor from Hazbin Hotel

Love Unbound: A Hellish Romance

In the tumultuous and ever-chaotic realm of Hell, where demons reveled in mayhem, and the unexpected was the norm, an extraordinary love story was destined to unfold. (Y/N), a spirited and adventurous human who had inexplicably found themselves in this nightmarish underworld, was on the brink of a whirlwind adventure. Little did they know, their heart was about to be captured by none other than Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon.

(Y/N) had always been a bit of a thrill-seeker, and being trapped in Hell was the ultimate adventure. They had navigated through the treacherous streets, forming unlikely alliances with demons of all shapes and sizes, and even dodging the clutches of terrifying creatures. But it was one fateful day when they stumbled upon the Hazbin Hotel, a dilapidated establishment run by the ever-optimistic Charlie, that their life took a truly bizarre turn.

Alastor, the enigmatic and unpredictable Radio Demon, was a frequent guest at the Hazbin Hotel. He was notorious for his twisted sense of humor, his love for vintage radio shows, and his uncanny ability to turn chaos into a symphony of mayhem. He was drawn to (Y/N) like a moth to a flame, intrigued by their fearless spirit and their talent for causing chaos wherever they went.

One evening, as (Y/N) and Alastor found themselves alone in the hotel's eccentric library, a mischievous glint sparkled in the demon's eyes. He decided to put on a show that would win (Y/N)'s heart in his own unique way.

"Darling, have you ever heard the tale of the Madcap Magician and the Daring Adventurer?" Alastor inquired with a sly smile, producing an old, dusty tome from the shelves.

(Y/N) was intrigued. "No, I can't say I have. Is it something you'd like to share with me?"

With a dramatic flourish, Alastor began to read from the book, his voice transforming the library into a stage. He conjured vivid images with his words, making the characters come to life. As the story unfolded, (Y/N) found themselves captivated, swept away by Alastor's storytelling prowess.

As the last words of the story echoed through the room, (Y/N) couldn't help but applaud. "That was incredible! I've never heard a story told like that before."

Alastor chuckled, his radio-like grin widening. "Ah, my dear (Y/N), I have a knack for making even the mundane seem extraordinary."

Their adventures together continued, and Alastor's craziness never ceased to amaze (Y/N). He took them on wild escapades through the unpredictable landscape of Hell, from crashing a demonic tea party to organizing a circus of misfit demons.

One evening, while they were stargazing on the roof of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor turned to (Y/N) with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Darling, would you care to dance with the stars?"

Before (Y/N) could respond, Alastor snapped his fingers, and suddenly, the stars themselves came to life, swirling and dancing around them. They waltzed among the constellations, their laughter filling the Hellish night.

Their love was as crazy and imaginative as their adventures, filled with laughter, chaos, and an undeniable connection. (Y/N) had found their partner in madness, and Alastor had found someone who could match his eccentricity.

But their love story was not without its challenges. Hell was a place of constant turmoil, and danger lurked around every corner. Yet, (Y/N) and Alastor faced it all together, their love growing stronger with each trial they endured.

One particularly daring adventure involved infiltrating the lair of the fearsome Overlords, a group of powerful demons who ruled over Hell with an iron fist. With Alastor's cunning and (Y/N)'s bravery, they managed to outwit the Overlords and escape with a valuable artifact that could reshape the balance of power in Hell.

As they stood victorious, (Y/N) and Alastor shared a passionate kiss amidst the chaos. It was a kiss that defied the very laws of Hell, a kiss that symbolized their unbreakable bond.

Their love story continued to evolve, marked by countless adventures and moments of pure, unadulterated madness. Together, they explored the depths of Hell, from the fiery pits to the twisted forests, uncovering secrets and forging alliances with demons of all kinds.

They even decided to try their hand at opening a new business in Hell, a radio station called "Radio Havoc," where Alastor would spin his devilish tunes and (Y/N) would provide the chaos-inducing commentary. It quickly became a hit among the demonic denizens of Hell, earning them a legion of devoted listeners.

But even amidst all the chaos and mayhem, (Y/N) and Alastor found moments of quiet and intimacy. They would steal away to hidden corners of the Hazbin Hotel, where they could simply be together, away from the madness of Hell. These moments were filled with tenderness and affection, a reminder that their love was as real as anything else in this surreal world.

As time passed, (Y/N) and Alastor's love story became legendary in Hell, a tale of two souls who defied the odds and found love in the most unexpected of places. They became a symbol of hope and inspiration for all those who believed that even in the darkest of places, love could flourish.

In the ever-chaotic world of Hell, (Y/N) and Alastor's love story was a symphony of madness, a dance of demons, and an adventure of a lifetime. And as they held each other under the fiery stars, they knew that in Hell, they had found their own peculiar heaven, where love was as wild and unpredictable as the realm itself.

NOTE! This story was generated by OpenAI

132 notes · View notes

redux-iterum · 4 months

Text

Founders: Moorlands

(Original title of WindClan)

GRAY WING

“When the holly leaf is eaten by deer, the round leaves grow back bristling. Likewise should the wise leader’s losses grow into strength. The fool leader laments the damaged Clan and never rebuilds.” —Clan Upkeep in Proverbs for a Leader, accredited to Gray Wing

Sometimes considered the Crone’s fifth disciple and the true first leader of WindClan, Gray Wing was considered by many an excellent choice for the Crone’s successor to the Moorland. The epics say he was Clear Sky’s brother, and while he was far less outwardly cruel than him, he still had his fair share of controversies to dispute past his death. For one, his relationships with kittypets were usually rocky, even so far as to suggest an abused kittypet return to her humans and unsavory living conditions. His relationships with Dewdrop and River Ripple were noted to be rather terse.

Despite his opinions on kittypets, he was an affectionate mate and caring father. Unfortunately most of the segments on Gray Wing’s family life are forgotten by the Clans, but snippets of them appear in the standard recitals of the Epic of the Crone's Lands. He had at least one litter he sired himself, but he was also known to be a father figure to multiple other litters.

As for his leadership position, Gray Wing was remembered as a cunning tactician, utilizing his cats’ skills, pelt colors, the weather, and the terrain in his strategies. Most of the wisdoms about battle tactics in Proverbs for a Leader are accredited to him, much to the embarrassment of ThunderClan. Some cats say that when a cat is named -wing, it’s in reference to Gray Wing, but this is not the case.

DUSTY

“The fox and badger should bother you no longer, dear old friend. The Untamed One sends her regards, but it is clear that an Untamed like her and we snow-stained cannot get along. Perhaps one day when our Grandmother has swallowed our bones, our kittens' kittens and her kittens' kittens shall frolick under the Eyes of the Crows. Oh how I wish to see that day for myself.” —Dusty, from the Dawn section of the Epic of the Crone’s Lands

Before the Crone’s arrival, cats were divided into two categories: rogues like Brawn and Slash who used their superior strength to enforce their fickle will onto their fellow cats, and the cats they pushed around. However, most scholars propose there was a third category: cats who used their cunning to evade the rogues’ efforts to subdue them. Dusty was one of these in the proposed third category, as few rogues would dare cross a cat who can call on other beasts to defend them.

This cat never featured in the Epic of the First Clan, but the Crone often made passing remarks of asking “the polyglot barn cat” to ask a trespassing badger or fox to leave. The jack's proper arrival to the Clans came after the Crone’s death, whereupon Dusty joined WindClan and eventually became respected enough for Gray Wing to offer deputyship. Back then, every Clan encouraged learning to speak Fang, but as time wore on, only the Moorlanders’ descendants still actively teach it, all thanks to a polyglot jack.

MOTH FLIGHT

There were many wonders and horrors she saw. A rabbit of starlight and his shadow in the moon. A lamb and a wolf that were neither lamb nor wolf. A bog in the lands where the sun sleeps. The dark. The long dark. The first spark of fire and the last breath of wind. The embrace of our Grandmother. —From the Nightfall section of the Epic of the Crone’s Lands

Considering their history, no one would have anticipated the ancestor of WindClan to produce the cat to discover the Mother. It is uncertain if she was born to the Pilgrims or to a local queen and took on a Pilgrim’s name later in life. What is certain is her strange behavior that led her to wander the moorlands like a stain of moonlight, foregoing hunting in favor of naming every bug that she came across.

Her story says that as a nameless kitten, she followed a strange moth with wings of different colors who whispered poems of the future. The moth protected her from the eyes of sparrowhawks and the noses of foxes, all the way to Highstones. Upon finding the Mother’s Maw, the moth perched on the kitten’s head, urging her to delve into the ancient secrets of the world. Led by her heart and guided by her whiskers, the kitten found the Moonstone, illuminated by the full moon. Exhausted from her journey, she slept there, dreaming of uncountable and indescribable things to the mind of any breathing being, even humans.

When she was found, she was bestowed the name Moth—or Moth Flight, depending on who you ask. Her story from there on out is hazy, though some sections say she and the high quean Daisy Bloom clashed in an issue regarding kittens, separate from the issue involving the creation of Clan Law.

#warrior cats #wc #founders #dusty #gray wing #moth flight #lore #worldbuilding #notable cats #original iteration: dust muzzle

46 notes · View notes

mythicamagic · 9 months

Text

Of early mornings and slumbering dragons: a Zhonglumi oneshot (Genshin Impact)

Summery: After an eventful night spent together, Lumine is intent on enjoying breakfast. Zhongli has other ideas.

Rating: T with some suggestive themes

You can read this on Ao3 - here.

AN: very short, sweet and fluffy oneshot. This idea just attacked me and I wrote it in a stupor.

----

The sun had already begun to sluggishly climb into the sky when Lumine lifted her head from the pillow. She gave a yawn, unfurling herself from where she’d slept- wrapped tight around her bedmate in a nest of tangled sheets and sprawled naked limbs. A full-body stretch worked wonders for her grogginess, and she stumbled out of bed more or less as gracefully as a Liyue crane.

A dusty noise rumbled out from beneath the covers. A coaxing, warm sound, as if crooning for her return.

Paying him no mind, Lumine smiled, picking up one of his stray shirts and slipping it on over her head. Her stomach was rumbling far more incessantly than the dragon behind her and she padded toward Zhongli’s bedroom door with every intent to find food. Sunlight was faintly filtering through the swaying curtains and from what she could glimpse it would be a beautiful day. May as well start it-

“Lumine.”

She stopped. Darn. She was unable to ignore the use of her name when it was spoken in those low silken tones. With a sigh, she turned to face the former Geo Archon, arching a brow.

Her lover had poked his head out from beneath the depths of his mountainous covers. His appearance mimicked a mortal man’s now, though last night he’d sprouted impressive golden horns and scales. Lumine mourned them, but couldn’t exactly complain about the alternate view ethier.

“Come back to bed,” he rumbled, eyes closed.

“I’ve had enough time in there, thank you. And I’ve no intention of rejoining you any time soon. It’s a struggle to leave.”

"My dear, you exaggerate…” Zhongli gave a half-smile as if still asleep and dreaming of her. “I wish to remind you of the long term benefits that would result from you returning to our lovely bed."

"Oh? And what would those be?" She humored him, propping her hands on her hips.

Zhongli's eyes slid open languidly, the gold flashing in the sun. He fixed her with a half-lidded stare that coaxed heat into her lower stomach the longer he gazed, dragging hungry attention down her body to where his shirt stopped mid-thigh.

"You- oh-" Lumine waved a hand, blushing furiously as laughter bubbled up her throat. "I find it hard to believe you're not satisfied after last night."

"Never underestimate a Dragon's greed," he gave a smile that exposed his sharp canines, those eyes twinkling.

With his cheek nestled against a pillow and disheveled bed hair scattered about the covers, and tempting bare skin gleaming in the morning sun; he certainly made a compelling argument.

"A-anything aside from the obvious…'benefits' I should know about regarding my returning to bed? Because breakfast is looking very tempting, no offense," navigating the conversation back to safer waters lest she be swayed, Lumine focused on the rafters above their heads.

"Breakfast can always be brought to us," he paused, becoming thoughtful. "Oh…now that I think about it…Zhongli of the Wangshen Funeral Parlor doesn't have servants to order around. Pity. There are some things about Godhood I do miss from time to time."

"You don't seem like the type to employ servants even with all the power in the world. You had the yaksha out of necessity," Lumine murmured, glancing at him. His gently furrowed brows pulled her back toward him like a moth to the flame, and she rubbed her thumb at the crinkle on his forehead, smoothing it away. She swept an absent hand through his silky bangs, cupping his cheek. "Besides, I don't need someone to make breakfast for me. I'll cook something up for us-"

Too late did she realise her mistake. His soft confusion had been a means to lure her closer. Golden arms caught her about the waist, the covers fluttering white above her head as the world spun and she landed atop a strong body. The covers came fluttering down atop Zhongli's triumphant expression.

"Of all the dirty tricks," Lumine huffed, cheek smashed against his firm chest. His heart beat strong and sure beneath her ear. "This does nothing to solve the hunger issue."

"I happen to have prepared a trayful of goods right here," his voice rumbled smoothly. What sounded like a bedside drawer sliding open could be heard and Zhongli shifted, putting a tray of something beside them.

Ah, so he'd planned this. What a crafty man she'd entangled herself with. Lumine settled closer, breathing him in by the lungful; Earth and metal masked by his natural masculine scent.

"Breakfast in bed with my favourite travel companion sounded too good to pass up," he continued, lifting the covers gently off her head as if it were a veil. Lumine glanced at the offering of food. Fresh fruits and packaged meals awaited her, wrapped in Wanmin restaurant's signature paper.

Take-out food. It clashed horribly with the fruit yet even that felt perfect in its imperfection.

She couldn't hide her fond smile. Sometimes Zhongli struggled with mortal gestures but others he stumbled into them by accident, much like now. In all honesty, she'd felt too sore and tired to cook. Perhaps he'd anticipated that.

She leaned up from his chest until they were nose to nose, bridging the distance with a light peck.

"I'll share a secret with you…you're my favourite too," she whispered in the space between them. "Don't let Paimon know I said that."

"I promise. Our contract is sealed."

She reeled back. "Contract? Wait, what are the terms here?"

"I uphold my end by not telling Paimon she has been replaced as the Traveler's best companion and you simply remain here in my humble abode until we both finish breakfast. Preferably; we do so while overlooking the harbor together and snuggling, but I am very open to other suggestions."

"I see," Lumine straddled his hips nonchalantly, reaching over to drag their food closer. "Then I agree too, despite the massive oversight your nebulous phrasing will lead to."

"It is not an oversight on your part if you willingly stepped into my trap. You surely know I don't intended to finish my breakfast for quite some time…yet you entered a contract with unspecified terms of fulfillment anyway? I shall have to revise our lessons thoroughly."

Lumine fed him a slice of apple to shut him up, smiling to herself.

He seemed mollified while chewing, eyeing her within his arms.

"You look very good in my clothes."

"I feel very good in your clothes."

Claws tickled her thigh, the sharp points dragging up in a lazy caress. They dipped beneath the hem. "Despite how they become you so….I prefer you bare."

She bit her lip, suppressing a shiver. "The food, Zhongli…"

He tugged her abused lip free with his teeth, brushing his tongue against her mouth to soothe the bite. "Shh, who's to say we cannot enjoy both at the same time? Eat if you wish- but my hunger is primarily focused on the nectar gathering between your legs."

Lumine sucked in a hard breath. Sometimes the God of contracts drove a hard bargain. She looped her arms around his neck, fighting the urge to react as his voice turned cajoling and his kisses turned sultry, peppering her neck.

"You wouldn't make a God starve a second longer than needed, would you?" he purred, lifting his head to look at her, and- Lumine stopped. Zhongli in the morning was certainly something to behold. It was like he’d been made for early mornings. Made to bask in the glow of sunrises.

"That depends which God is asking,” Lumine gave a breathy laugh, urging him on with the faintest rock of her hips against his. “I only feed one. He's quite the handful."

His eyes glittered. "Sounds like a catch."

"Oh he is,” she nodded, leaning in and capturing his lips with a fond kiss. “I think I'll keep him for a long time coming."

-------

End

#zhongli #zhonglumi #genshin impact #lumine #zhonglumi fanfic #genshin impact fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

cosmos-coma · 1 year

Text

Blood and Vengeance - Part 3

A/N: Enjoy some fluff and simple slice of life stuff!

Pairing: Dettlaff x Reader

Words: 1874

__________

Chattering voices and the call of vendors spread through the air as you made your way through the market with Amelia. You two were gathering groceries for the next week or so at the manor as well as doing a bit of personal shopping on the side.

“Your arms are looking a lot better than they were a few days ago. I was worried you’d look like a cherry for the rest of your life!” your companion exclaimed above the noise of the market's bustling patrons.

“Oh Amelia, you always know exactly what to say, don’t you?” you teased and laughed as she handed you another bag of groceries to carry. “Fortunately, Dettlaff gave me a little something to help my burn or I’d still be looking more cherry-like than ever.”

“He gave you a gift? I still have yet to hear a single peep out of him! Regis does all the talking with me- not that I mind, he’s plenty nice-” she said, turning to you with raised eyebrows. “But he must be taking quite a liking to you. Have you talked to him since?”

You smiled as you thought about it, and nodded, “A few times. Right after I got burned was a little awkward, but I rather like speaking to him. He’s more candid than I expected, but it’s kind of refreshing, you know?” Your eyes wandered idly as you thought back to those meetings. Since he had given you that jar of burn cream you’d been able to make a little conversation with him when you arrived to light his fireplace in the morning or to bring him a glass of wine. He never hid how he felt on a subject when you brought them up and always seemed keen on hearing your side as well, even when it was obvious you knew far less about it than he did.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Amelia called you back to the present as she waved her hand in front of your face. “Getting a little lost in thought thinking about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome?” she snickered playfully, “I guess he’s not the only one whose taken a liking…”

“Amelia!” Your cheeks flushed bright red as you bumped her shoulder with your own, “You stop that or I’m going to stop playing pack mule for you!” You held up the various bags of produce that kept your hands full.

“Hmm, I’m still not hearing a no..” she teased, laughter trailing away as she ran ahead to escape your friendly wrath.

The two of you meandered the rest of the market, picking up extra treats here and there when you found yourself stopping in front of a used bookshop. It seemed a little empty inside as you peered in the front window, a little dusty, and piled with countless books- just as any good bookshop should be. But what really caught your eye was the green book being showcased front and center.

It was pale green in color with various moths etched in gold leaf on the cover, the largest one reminding you of the pin that adorned Dettlaff’s coat.

Moths of Nazair and The Surrounding Regions its title read, and you knew it would be perfect.

You set the heaping bags of groceries down, taking a quick moment to duck inside the shop. A cough scratched at your lungs as ages of dust plumed up from your disturbance of the idle air. An old lady- looking a little dusty herself- eyed you as you came in, smiling in a way that emphasized her deep laugh lines.

After a nod of acknowledgment, you went straight to the bay window to scoop it up, taking a quick glance at the price inside the cover.

”Oh that's… more than I was hoping it would be.” You mumbled quietly to yourself. It would take a little over half of the money you had put away… but you knew it would be worth it when you gave it to him. After all, you could always save more later, right?

“Is there a problem, Dear?” The old woman called, her voice too was worn with age, but her short steps shuffled over with a surprising pace to help you.

“Oh, it's nothing.” you tried to assure her, “I was just… I thought this would be an excellent gift for a... a friend-yes, a friend of mine..” You smiled shyly, embarrassed at the way you paused as you decided what to call him.

Her eyes sparkled with a slightly mischievous sense of knowing as she nodded in response. “Say no more, Dearie. I understand exactly what you mean.” her tone was light and even a little teasing as she headed back to the front counter, waving at you to follow her.

“I’ll tell you what,” she started as she sat back on her stool with a huff of effort, “I’ll give you a good discount on the book, okay?” she said, “I know that look, Dear. Had it once myself even, so I’ll be no fool and stand in the way of a young love like that…” she said, undoubtedly reminiscing in the romantic adventures of her own youth.

Your cheeks darkened and felt as hot as the sun as she spoke, but even that couldn’t stop the grin from pulling at your lips as you brought the book up to pay and slipped it into your coat for safekeeping. “Thank you, It’s gonna be perfect

---

Dettlaff’s sensitive ears immediately picked up the sound of your familiar footsteps as they came near and the front gate groaning out your welcoming. He had been listening closer as of late to when you came back from town. He assured himself (as well as Regis) that it was not because he was concerning himself with something as complicated as a human, nor was it because he found himself enjoying when you visited after getting back. It wasn’t even because he found that he missed the sound of your voice in your absence or the gentle thrumming of your heart beneath your skin. No, he would tell anyone that asked that he listened only to make sure you arrived back safely.

It was not uncommon for him or Regis to leave for a few hours or days at a time, they’d smoke away into the night, taking in the surroundings as they went. Regis had just arrived back with a message; There was a group of bandits beginning to move closer to the town; they seemed to only move by night right now, but there was no telling how bold they would be once they reached the town’s limits.

Dettlaff knew Regis only warned him so he’d be prepared and not lash out lest anything happen, but he only found himself worrying more and more the longer you had been out.

“Dettlaff? I have a surprise for you” you said, interrupting his thoughts as you nudged open the library door carefully.

“Y/n” He spoke your name with a faint breath of relief like a man in the desert whose finally seen rain. His brows furrowed downward when he registered your other words, “A surprise? You know I hate surprises.”

“Yeah, I know,” you shrugged, with a small smile. You held one hand behind your back and led with a cup of blood-red wine in the other.

“And yet you still do it?” he asked.

“Only because I know it’ll be a good one…” A shy but lovely smile crossed your lips as you set the wine before him slipping the book on the table beside it. You took a half step back and watched his face for a reaction as he lifted the book to inspect it.

“What’s this..? I know this isn’t from our library…” he commented as he looked it over, Moths of Nazair and the Surrounding Regions. He ran his fingers briefly over the golden moth the cover held and opened it to the inside cover where he found your simple inscription.

‘To Dettlaff,

So no matter where you are, you’ll always have a piece of home.

- From Y/n’

“I remembered you telling me in passing that you were from Nazair and since you wear that pin everywhere you go, I thought you might like seeing the moths you grew up with…” you trailed off as you explained. You wrung your fingers in your hand as you thought everything over again, ‘was this really a good idea? Maybe this is too bold of a move for what we are right now… wait- we aren’t even anything, why am I so worried?’

It hadn’t been terribly long since you had started working here, but you already found yourself being pulled in by this stormy-eyed man. One of the things you loved most about him was… rather complicated to express actually. When you watched him go about life and when you two spoke especially- it was almost as if he spoke with ten lifetimes worth of experience. Lifetimes worth of grief, joy, and loss…. You had always considered yourself something of an old soul, but you’re certain that compared to Dettlaff your soul looked like an absolute infant.

But it wasn’t only that- It was that despite so much experience and existence being held inside one person he still felt so much. And though- as you had seen firsthand- there are some downsides to all that concentrated emotion, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly in confusion as he looked over the cover of the book once more. “You bought this for me… But why?” He asked, hoping to understand exactly what you were trying to get at. Did you want something in return the way all humans did? Or was this purely altruistic? Or perhaps you just softening him up for something terrible you were about to do?

He had begun growing rather attached to you since that first and fateful day and he was not about to be played like a fool for thinking better of you.

“Why?” you repeated as you blinked in surprise- no one ever really had this reaction to a gift before. “Well… it’s because I instantly thought of you when I saw it. The moth on the cover looked a little bit like your pin and I thought it might make you happy to have..” You answered honestly. your mind worried restlessly on whether your impression of him and you had been all wrong.

But instead of looking upset you watched his expression smooth out and even a small and subtle smile make its way onto his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been correct when assuming the best of someone, but then again you just keep surprising him, don’t you?

With another glance at your gift, the small smile still lingering on his lips he finally spoke. “Y/n, would you like to stay a while with me..?” he asked hopefully, “I can help you finish your tasks for today if it makes any difference…”

Your own expression morphed into a large dopey grin as you took a seat before him on his chair’s ottoman.

“I would love nothing more.”

____________

Taglist: @writingmysanity @open--till--midnight @unstable-kiwi @madamemelancholysstuff

Wanna be on a certian taglist? just DM me to let me know!

#Just a little filler fluff!#gotta make a relationship you know!#dettlaff van der eretein #dettlaff #Dettlaff x You #dettlaff x y/n #dettlaff x reader #witcher dettlaff #Dettlaff van der Eretein x Reader #Dettlaff van der Eretein x You #Dettlaff van der Eretein x Y/n

32 notes · View notes

liminal-storage · 7 months

Text

#27: Hall of Whispers

Prompt: Sole

Characters: Maximilian Finch, Crowe, “Mother.”

Content Warnings: Mentions of mutilation/self harm, abuse.

Note: This is not ffxiv-focused writing, but again me taking the opportunity to write about Blades things. A tiny glimpse at the place that my character, Finch, calls home.

—------------

In the most destitute, wave-worn streets bordering the docks, the rooms of a house known as the Harpy’s Wing stand as a bastion against the freezing winds rolling from Duskvol’s cold waters. Though, anyone left alive from those days can tell you it is a much different sort of place than it was when it opened three decades prior. The ornate, hand-carved door welcoming patrons once shone with a fine mahogany-colored polish. Its plush, neatly upholstered divans are still lovely to look at and fine enough for entertaining patrons, but time and use has certainly shown its wear on the wood. The fabric seems a bit threadbare if you look at certain spots

On good days, of which there are few, a number of delicate stained glass chandeliers fashioned with hanging glass beads catch the light from the oil-lamps outside and scatter it into pieces along the walls. Through the years, thick layers of dust and the stain of cigar smoke have tinted the glass a dull orange, but once upon a time they glimmered with every shade of the rainbow like floating, ethereal jellyfish.

Most of the Harpy’s Wing looked like that. Lavish and evocative of longing for a nicer city, a different time, but worn down by sea spray and cold and smoke, and Duskvol’s general sense of misery.

Some nights the phonograph still plays, though someone lost all the other wax cylinders. Now, only one tune resonates throughout the halls, its notes grown dissonant and distorted like the rest of the place. Not that the hard working gentlemen or ladies who come to call on the birds of the house really seem bothered by it. They heed not the call of the phonograph but the call of hedonistic pleasures, taken to dusty backrooms with moth-eaten bedding. Coin flows, bodies sweat, and beds rock like the ebb and flow of the frigid tides. The hard working men and women of the docks find temporary entertainment and a short-lived balm for the soul, never knowing what lurks further within the walls.

The upper floor remains off limits.

Here, no light from outside penetrates the halls. The only furnishings to decorate most of the rooms are worn wooden benches, hard lumpy beds, and guttering oil lamps that, at any given moment, pose a danger of tipping over and engulfing the entire Wing in flames. There is one room at the end of the hall where the darkness seems to seep from the very depths of the night. Within the room, a woman with stark-white hair and an unnatural glowing youth sits upon an embroidered chair. Hands bound to the elaborate padded chair’s arms, Mother’s eyes have not espied anything but darkness since the establishment opened its doors for the first time.

She sits blinded in the darkness, her eyes long since gouged out and covered with a veil dotted with silk roses over her empty sockets. She clawed them out herself, before her most beloved Crowe bound her hands to the chair. An esteemed offering to her goddess, to bear her sacred likeness. Her only company here is her Crowe, he who bears eyes across all of Duskvol. To watch over her children, she says. To witness their sins and tell of their tribulations.

Her dear, beloved Finches. In the end, one shall fly above the rest.

Someday one of them will repeat the ritual of offering, carve out their eyes to take her place upon the worn throne within the Hall of Whispers. Another will become the new Mother’s Crowe and watch over the rest of the Wing.

The young Maximilian shows promise, though the Crowe is not yet certain in which way. Will they open themselves to the goddess’ voice? Or will theirs be the voice that speaks for Mother? Though, their recent mishap proved disquieting to hear. Mother shall have to give them a firm reminder of the consequences for indiscretion. Maximilian’s back already bears scars of such lessons, but not nearly enough. To awaken the sovereign beneath the waves, the Finches must come to understand sacrifice. Mother speaks of penance from beneath her veil.

“Twenty lashes and a week without food this time, I think. This time they shall be inflicted at your hand rather than their own. See to it once the little one returns, Crowe.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #ritz writing #not actually ffxiv related!

7 notes · View notes

lionsongfr · 1 year

Photo

~The Very Hungry Aether~

At the sound of crashing pans and yells, MellowMelon raised one set of his frills upwards at the sound before slowly turning his head. A Mirror, his lovely mate BonFire, was wrestling with some odd squabbling insect critter. Shifting his frills back to their relaxed state he turned back to his sauce on the stove.

She’s got this, he thought with amusement.

He stirred the pan as his mate finally secured the creature and shoved it near his face.

“You see this? This. This. THIS DEVIL INSECT.”

“Do you want me to fricassee it or roast it, my dear?”

“If only. I want you to feed the blasted creature. Supposedly she is a dragon of some sort.”

Mellow turned an eye towards the still squirming creature. Six limbs, fluffy fur, and chitinous wings. She was about as big as he was, but he was one of the smallest of dragon kind and there were plenty of bugs much bigger than him in this world.

“Are you sure?”

A deep dramatic sigh emanated from Bon, “Yes, we got the Pelican Post a few days back announcing these dragons crash landed from space and are called Aethers. Supposedly Arcane born, but this one has Light’s grace upon it. But that is not the issue!”

He waited a bit, letting the tension build before speaking, “What issue may that be, my-“

“SHE EATS PAPER. SHE ARRIVED DURING THE MISTRAL JAMBOREE. PAPER LIKE MESSENGER SCROLLS. SHE ATE HALF OUR STOCK.”

He held his frills straight, trying his best to not laugh at his mate’s dramatics.

“Well, that’s definitely a problem. Leave the insect with me and I’ll fatten it up so much that dragons will wonder why a Bumble is at the festival.”

“Thank you so much, my flutter heart.”

Bon gently stopped the squirming Aether from chewing upon her headdress and plopped her into an open crate. With a stern claw she pointed at the Aether,

“STAY.”

The Aether looked upward, her nose crinkled in a smile,

“Chirrrrp!”

Food for a Paper Hungry Aether

First Spring Rolls- a rice paper wrapper filled with thin slices of Cucumber, Green Shoots, Minty Jadevine, Water Lettuce, and green Wild Onion. Served with a hot Wild Mustard sauce.

Fruit Scrolls-a pale brown fruit leather made from Yellow Bananas or Sour Green Apples. Can be served long in scroll form or cut into rectangles and wrapped around a wedge of Micro Goat cheese for a sweet and savory bite. Edible Ant Ink can also be applied to the fruit leather to make cool tongue tattoos!

Bookworm Bar- a sweet crumbly pastry made of Woodland Acorn flour. It is rolled around a paste of Tricolor Caterpillar, Fig, and Cinnamon with a thin layer of Luminous Almonds in the middle. It is then baked before being sliced into rectangular portions.

Nymph en Papillote (in paper)- Nymph’s are delicate and easy to overcook, steaming them in parchment paper pouch allows for a tender and juicy bite…with added crunch of paper for the Aether. Typical additions to the pouch are sea salt, Potash Peach, dried Golden Pepper, and Potato Onions.

Moth Mille Feuille (million sheets)- a crunchy layered dish of five layers of flattened puff pastry, Fairy Ear mushroom filling, toasted Crunchy Moth legs, and Fragile Moth Wing pastry cream. Dusted with dried Giant Dust Mite to recreate that dusty book flavor!

#Long post #Flight rising #fr headcanon #lore #food #Aether #clan lore #clan of the Lionfish #FR: MellowMelon #FR: BonFire #FR: DawnChirp

22 notes · View notes

dokyeomini · 5 months

Text

i was tagged by my dear miha @jaebeomtual to take this quiz and post pictures of the color aesthetic plus the description

Chiffon

stone walls, sweaters, moths, dusty lace, animal tracks, incense, throw pillows. your essence is chiffon: your soft heart disarms those who meet you. you willingly swallow your feelings for everyone else; it is easier to hide your sensitivity. you may be a mirror, reflecting the best back at others, and not knowing quite who you are inside. you are the compromiser. you are the recaster. you find kinship in like-minded individuals of ashen, hickory, brown, and grey, who act with patience. you are also drawn to the cheerful orchid and honey, who will help you grow and discover what actually makes you happy. however, you may struggle to get along with the wild-hearted personalities of mauve and terracotta who act on their whims.

tagging @minotaurmutual @ueberdemnebelmeer @possession1981 @rashfcrd and everyone else too

#not sure what color chiffon is tbh #but i like the fabric so i went woth that

3 notes · View notes

jabbage · 5 months

Text

#Letters from Watson #lettersfromwatson

5 notes · View notes

puff-mmd · 11 months

Text

5/26/23

picks up the old lillian and michelle lore and throws it out the window

none of that was good tbh i hate it all now

first off, lillian's name is going to be lillyana, but most people call her lily. she doesn't mind it, she knows her name is long, and lily is the common shortening.

michelle likes to call her 'ana' instead of lily though, after asking her what she would like to be called in short, and hearing that most people called her lily, and that she didn't mind but was rather tired of it, she wanted to do something different.

We are going midwest growing up different love story.

Lillyana is trans now, and likes girls. It was something she always knew about herself - her parents are the kind that love their child no matter what. She has their support, but... others might not feel that same way.

Anyways, growing up she gravitated towards the girls section ever since she was old enough to walk on her own. She loved picking out dresses and skirts, though her mother would often buy her different ones than the ostentatious pieces she would bring to her ("honey i don't think the bright green tutu and dusty pink blouse are a good idea.")

It also brought a challenge to her mom when she was old enough to go to the restroom at a store by herself for the first time.

"Wait dear, don't-"

She stopped herself. Lillyana (then called Lucas, but very rarely) looked back at her mother, hand on the door to the women's restroom. Others in the crowd turned their heads, typical fashion of a Wal-mart shopper that's too nosy for their own good.

Catherine felt the burning eyes on her and her child, knowing there would be suspicions if she directed them to the men's bathroom.

She quickly walked over, and knelt down, quietly whispering but still loud enough to be hear by some of the crowd, "Don't sit right on the seat, use toilet paper okay? Just like I showed you."

She nodded her head and gave a "Yup" before heading in to do her business.

Catherine sighed.

Crisis averted.

I think when she's 6, her parents bring up going to school and talk to Lucas about it. They know if they go with the name Lucas and their appearance, it's bound to raise questions. They ask them if they were to be called something else, what would they like?

"Lily!"

Her mother always liked the name lillyana and has talked about it before to her husband, but with having two "sons", that never presented itself as an option for a name.

Her face brightened as her oldest child exclaimed the name she loved most. (Even if it may have only been because her mother talked about it so much.)

And so when she started going to school, she registered her as Lillyana Walker. It was best if no one really knew, she thought. If there had ever been an emergency and someone had to know, well...

They would deal with that if it came.

Fortunately, that never happened.

Eventually, i think when she's 9 or 10, they do end up legally changing her name.

I do think as Lillyana gets older, her parents do talk to her about what how she is as well. Of course, she always had this feeling somehow that she was different than other girls, and it wasn't until a presentation at her school that made her realize just what was different. I'd imagine her sitting with the other girls, and she doesn't say anything, but she's visibly confused ("I don't look like that down there...")

Now as for when she meets Michelle.

They meet when Lillyana goes away to college. It's not much bigger or fancier than any community college, and it's not very far from where she lives. Just far enough that she wouldn't want to drive there and back every day. (Plus her scholarships covered room and board, lucky her)

On her first day, she walks in to one of her classes, and when she sees her, everything in her screams to sit by her.

Dark skin, black hair twisted into ornate braids; her stylish outfit and simple but effective makeup draw Lillyana's eyes to her like a moth to flame. She had to be one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen (though to be fair, her graduating high school class of 116 didn't make that hard).

She eyes the seat near the girl at her table, and sits across from her.

Lillyana soon finds out the girl's name (Michelle), and as they sat at the same table, become introduction partners. The professor thought it would be fun to have an impromptu "learn about your table mate and then present 3 things you learns about them" instead of normal introductions. What else would be expected of a speech and language professor after all?

The two girls leave the class together, laughing about how eccentric the professor was.

It turns out, Michelle is from a small town not very far from Lillyana's - about 30 minutes south of her hometown.

They both live on campus, and may I say they start seeing each other quite a bit. Even during summers, they visit each other often.

The town where the college they go to is probably bigger than a town, not quite a big city but definitely more diverse and crowded. I say this because i have a scene in my head of Michelle taking Lillyana to a gay bar at some point, and that's kinda when they start to realize "wait i think i like this girl"

Michelle is also bi now. Because i said so.

And is also why Michelle doesn't mind that Lillyana has a penis. Even if she was a lesbian, i don't think she'd care - she sees Lillyana as a woman no matter what's between her legs (only that she kinda wants to be between them herself//coughs)

As far as how Lillyana feels about herself, she had taken hormone treatments during puberty (thanks to having had supportive parents), but never considered any kind of surgery. She never felt uncomfortable with herself (aside from the confusion that presentation had caused her), and cannot stand the idea of scalpels or surgery, she is kind of a baby when it comes to that stuff.

This feels like a natural direction for their story somehow. It's still sweet and mostly wholesome, but I am definitely thinking there may be some caveats thrown their way given several things about their relationship.

But! They are my girls and if I want them to overcome those things and be happy together i can make that happen!

......anyways i think a crossover with them and Ciro and kaisei would be funny. They are very different but also kinda similar in ways and i like that.

#oc #rambles #bring back a couple of girl from 2016 because i just felt like it

2 notes · View notes

thedeadthree · 2 years

Note

19-23 for the beloveds bella and petra <3

HI ALYSSA MY DEAR i hope ur doing well! omg ty so much! i need to yell about the girls i stayed up until 4am finishing the sandman hkjasn so ty omg <3 and in honor of the bella’s sandman verse takes the stage! <3

autumn themed asks 🍂

19. what would be their plan or weapon of choice in a zombie apocalypse or alien invasion?

BELLONA: g*un kjsamk her wraith abilities aside, i think bella would likely go for the tride and true baseball bat that seems to work well for most in the event of the zombie apocalypse (and bc she’s an avid appreciator of horror movies it’s the only thing she would think of jjanxks).

PETRA: she would honestly try to engage in conversation becoming the aliens liaison “manipulating” her way to the top of the hierarchy ajnxasaj. her weapon of choice in the event of a zombie apocalypse would be her tried and true ritual dagger.. for summoning demons to k*ll the zombies of course! <3

20. what family traditions do they remember from their childhood?

BELLONA: her fathers family is as old as new york high society itself, so her memories of family tradition are steeped in obligations and beautiful but old, dusty homes with myriad of skeletons in the basements. not to mention her parents until she was 11 belonged to a spiritist cult which would later take her as their ritual sacrifice, giving her the wraith powers but tethering her to purgatory. traditions included gala attendances, the debutante balls, and charity benefit balls, and the like. bella and her friends in her childhood also dabbled in the occult, participating in full and new moon rituals!

PETRA: raised away from her aristocratic parents being the result of an affair between two families she was whisked off to be raised by her disgraced grandmother, the traditions of the upper crust in prague did not become familiar to petra until adulthood? and a virtually solitary childhood traditions usually centered around occultist and infernal traditions which her grandmother practiced! holidays that were associated with the occult or days holding meaning to demons and the like. she did look forward to the sunday markets her grandmother would take her to she was little, the pomegranate crepes her grandmother would make those mornings were to die for <3

21. what role would they be in a horror movie (final girl, the jock, etc.)?

BELLONA: literally the first victim.. but not THE first victim of the film? like the reason the place is haunted in the first place? shes the monster in essence? but also like.. shes got her reasons u know?

PETRA: the final girl AND the one who was summoning the horrors in the first place ksajnkjns (darn demon summoners ajnska)

22. if they had a familiar, what type of animal would it be?

BELLONA: her familiar would be the ghost moth! associated with being the souls of the dead and emerge in the twilight hours to haunt..! (maybe even one of the signs of bellonas presence is the sight of these moths..? maybe?)

PETRA: so one of the animal companions that i haven’t named yet is actually in her last picrew! though if i had to associate HER with a familiar (that u can be sure she will summon ajhnsjka) that would be a crow! sort of screaming by how much that makes her a parallel to dream in the sense he’s associated with ravens omg.. crows symbolize emotional and spiritual change! and with the way im planning her arc i couldn’t have pictured better <3

23. what’s their craft of choice (sewing, painting, etc.)?

BELLONA: her true love of tattoo art is proven by her being covered in tattoos all drawn by her..! so i would have to say her craft of choice is that! (it counts right?).

PETRA: demon summoning. she loves to sketching in one of those antique leather-bound journals! sigils, wards she plans, nature she spends a lot of time sketching nature when shes not summoning demons or absorbing soul of the dukes and lords of hell kajnskans..! (dream do not look into the latest entries of her sketchbook no that’s not you no ur seeing things akajkn)

#🌞: alyssa #risingsh0t #MY DEARIEE TY TY SO MUCH..!#i totally didn’t stay up well into 4 in the morning finishing sandman im not head empty only this show..#AND TOTALLY NOT IN NEED OF YELLING ABOUT IT..! listen this show I knew was gonna make me crazy AND IT ISSS #so..! ty for asking about the girls..! and for u and macy convincing me with the beloveds! so in honor of y’all and finishing #the show..! here’s miss petra and bellas sandman!verse <3 enjoy!#SPEAKING OF THINGS THAT MAKE ME CRAZYY..! the correlation! the near mirroring of dream and petras familiars!#was doing the research for answering these (GREAT choices btw!) and like.. IM FINE IM SO NORMAL #like if i wasn’t sure before if they fit together..! THE DOUBTS ARE SURE DARN TOOTIN GONE NOW!#petra may also have a photographic memory so all she needs is a glance (which she does a lot dream is dreamy askxnask)#petra ten minutes becoming besties of the aliens is *muah* GLORIOUS to me ajknsjk #leg.txt #leg.asks #leg.ocs #t: text

4 notes · View notes