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r1ddlessy · 9 months

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off to the races

warnings: daddy kink, fingering, meanish jay

a/n: i really need to get back into the swing of things, but hello x

"I quite like this little number on you." Jay's slim fingers took the dainty lace of your underwear between them, rubbing with a mild interest.

"You bought it, so I should hope so." You giggled at his nonchalant attitude, accustomed to it by now. Jay raised an eyebrow and watched the elastic snap back on to your skin.

"Don't get sassy with me, sweetheart." He murmured and you nodded as your cheeks warmed. His glass of whiskey swirled as the ice hit the sides. He looked ahead, one arm wrapped around your middle as you stood between his legs. His palm patted the exposed skin just under your ass before he looked up at you.

"Take it off." Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"But I thought you wanted me to model it for you?" You ask softly.

"Yeah, and you did a great job darling." He gave you a small smirk. "But now I want to see everything."

You giggled and raised your hands behind you to unhook your bra and throw it to the floor. Jay's own hands slowly crept up your body from your thighs, squeezing at your waist as they passed. His hands cupped your breasts and squeezed gently.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my hands on." He murmured lowly as you preened at his touch.

"Promise?" You teased and he rolled his eyes amusedly at your attitude.

"Daddy never lies, magpie." He said, his tone laced with playfulness but always earnest. Your fingers laced around the back of his neck, moaning softly as he trailed his hands down to your clothed pussy.

"Please..." You whined, desperation seeping into your tone as his warm palm laid flat against the soft skin of your belly.

"Please what, hm? You should really articulate your requests better, magpie." He taunted gently, pulling you into the cat-and-mouse dynamic you often enjoyed.

"I-" Your breathing faltered as his hand began to turn downwards, fingers splaying towards where you most ached. "I want your fingers, please." You whispered meekly at last. His eyebrow cocked nevertheless, his need for perfection in obedience evident.

"Please what?" He encouraged, eyes sparkling with a tantalizing hunger as they bore into yours. "Who are you speaking to?" He practically hissed, his words dripping with expectation.

"Please daddy." You gasped out as his first finger dipped between your folds, rewarding your performance. "Please make me feel good, daddy!"

He nodded in approval, a warm smile gracing his face as he pumped his finger into your hole.

"That's daddy's good girl." Your hand curled around his bicep and squeezed as he introduced another finger to spread your glistening lips. You mewled as his thumb pressed to your clit and rubbed it at a steadily increasing pace.

"Daddy, that feels really fucking good." Your voice rose in pitch as your eyes seemed to squeeze shut on their own accord. Jay stole loving glances in between his absolute focus on pleasuring you.

"Do you want to cum, sweet magpie?" He crooned as your knees buckled.

"Please daddy, please let me!" The fire burning in your lower belly at his touch brought desperate tears to your eyes. "Please, I've been so good!" You begged, through sniffles and moans. He shushed you gently and kindly, using his free hand to wipe away the stray tears.

"Show daddy how good he makes you feel." His simple command pulled a moan from between your lips and caused your walls to clench around his dutifully pumping fingers. Within seconds, they were coated in your slick juices. Jay pulled his fingers out swiftly, silencing your whimper that followed by pushing them between your own lips. You sucked them clean obediently, humming softly as you worked. He pulled you on to his lap before your legs could give out, cradling you with his arm wrapped around your lower back.

"You're a good girl." He murmured quietly as he finally pulled out his fingers from your mouth. He kissed away the stubborn pout that surfaced as a result. "Thank you for doing this for me, magpie." He nuzzled his nose against your tear-stained cheek, producing a giggle.

"Any time, daddy."

#ramblings...to jay!✍️#jay (okja) x reader #jay (okja) smut #paul dano smut #paul dano x reader

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somebirdortheother · 2 months

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9 People You Want to Get to Know Better

Tagged by @iamstartraveller776. Thank you so much, my dear!!!

Last Song: Odessa by Caribou

Favorite Color: Blue!!!! ALL BLUE, and the darker the better.

Last film/show: James Bond - The Spy Who Loved Me (my parents and I have a "thing" - James Bond franchise is our comfort watch and we pick one at random based on our mood and watch together. This week we were feeling silly and Roger Moore era it was!)

Sweet/savory/spicy: Savory and sour, and a touch of sweet. And a touch of spice. So, everything, everything.

Last thing I googled: Le Peste (The Plague) by Albert Camus. It happens to be the favourite novel of a really dedicated fan of my writing (who recently graced me with cheese that he sent me all the way from France to Canada, lying to customs about the contents of the package ahah), and somehow my style reminds him of that work.

Last Book: The Moon is A Harsh Mistress by Robert Heinlein

Relationship status: Divorced. Then found my soulmate through my writing, and then said soulmate died in an accident. So.... widowed.

Current Obsession(s): Finishing my WIP novel and improving my French.

Tagging: @coraleethroughthelookingglass @lady-of-imladris @queenmeriadoc @lapestelareste @ahalvedsoup @yletylyf @thelettersfromnoone @frodomyprecious @musing-magpie

#nine people tag #nine people you want to get to know better #about me

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bigein · 24 days

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I hope you do write the explicit scoteng omegaverse because I for one would love to read it!

sorry anon, as befitting my age I was out at the pub this weekend but happy easter and here you go (it ended up more one-shot than pwp and is in need of a proofread but today is my last day off, Godspeed).

---

Alasdair's shoulders are hot under his vest, the grass damp under his knees. He'd shed every layer he could and by mid-morning he was left in his boots, the thick denim he wears in the garden, and the fraying cotton that stretches tight across his chest. The belt at his hips is strapped tight and he tries to focus on that instead of the way his thighs tense and his gloved hands dig into the earth with a shudder like he is cold. It comes in waves, the heat that has him bent and huffing like a beast in the garden, tearing at roots like he wants to tear at himself.

At least the air out here clears his head, away from the unsettled scents of the house and the sharp smell of wood polish. Alasdair would have chosen beeswax but it was Dai charged with the floors and he'd come back from town with a tin can, new brushes and rags. Compromise. They are trying their hands at compromise, and Alasdair is trying, damn the devil, but he is already at his wit's end and today--

He tears harder at the ground and grits his teeth; sweat pools at his back. The grass crushed beneath his weight smells fresh and young; the weeds sharp and the soil rich and clean. The plot behind the house (their house) is little more than a tangle of briars and unkept rows of mint and meadowsweet. It is better than the polish, better than Sean's cider-and-turf and Daffyd's muted amber. They are not so far from the coast that he can't imagine the salt-tang of sea-spray in the air, metallic on his tongue. Today it makes him want to spit on the ground and pant, bite into something sweet until the juice drips down his throat.

He clenches his eyes shut and exhales like it hurts, and, to his great, fucking displeasure, he knows it's Arthur coming down to the garden before he even calls down. "Are those my gloves?"

Damn the devil and damn them all with it.

"Oi!" Arthur's steps stomp down like he is still walking on ship-boards. "I said, are those--"

"They don't fit you right." Alasdair tears at a tangle of roots and feels like a beast.

Arthur had good instincts once, and enough sense to know when to turn tail, but the last century has made him stupid. Stupid and presumptuous. He'd left a lad and came back reckless with it, scenting sweet under the bite of his temper.

"They're mine." He stops where Alasdair dropped his shirt earlier and toes it with his stupid, polished work shoes. Stupid, stubborn, reckless eejit. "What are you doing out here, anyway? You said--"

"--Fuck off back into the house and let me be." Alasdair does not know if it is by grace of his own idiocy or the damp earth that Arthur seems oblivious to the stench of him. He can see the shape of him out of the corner of his eye; the light corduroy of his trousers. Alasdair's left hand twitches where it is buried in the ground, tempted by the give of his thighs and the heat between them.

"What bit your arse today?" Arthur sounds almost too surprised to be angry and Alasdair knows he should have just stalked off himself when the bottom of Arthur's shoe finds his hip, trying to unbalance him from his crouch in retaliation.

He is not being serious with it and some part of Alasdair knows that he must be out here out of some misplaced sense of concern. Otherwise he would have fucked off at the first bark and if he'd been trying to pick up a fight proper he would have come down hollering. Instead he is here, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pursed, hands relaxed by his sides instead of clenched into fists. He has been biting at his nails again, and taking his pick from the laundry hamper like a nesting magpie and Alasdair cannot stand the sight of him, and his scent... He lingers by in the evenings when Alasdair has his whiskey like an old friend. Prattles on about his plans for the garden and what he'll be growing by next spring. Gets underfoot and in the way and on Alasdair's nerves like he means to. His scent is in every corner of the house, strongest in the living room and the kitchen, and the threshold to his room; pressed into the clean bedding because he holds the sheets under his chin when he folds them.

He can tell the moment Arthur catches the scent of rut on him, a flash of shock and sudden heat across his cheekbones. Alasdair already has him by the calf and it only takes a push to get him on the ground.

They grapple. Arthur claws at his vest until he catches skin and then softens, the bite of his nails easing into a tight grip instead. He doesn't want to draw blood, Alasdair thinks, and it makes him feel light-headed to consider why.

He has his full weight on Arthur, one of his knees heavy on the inside of his thigh. He eases up, nudging Arthur's leg around his waist and raising up on his forearms to get a good look at him.

The blush across his cheeks is darker, bleeding down his neck into the high collar of the shirt under the stripped plaid he is wearing. He is breathing hard through his nose, chin tipped back to catch Alasdair's eyes, waiting. Clever thing.

Alasdair is still wearing his gloves, the suede rough and stained. He pulls them off, tossing them carelessly to the side and reaching down to edge up his shirt. He is bare beneath it, ribs rising in time with his breathing. His skin is warm, flushing under his gaze and softest under the swell of his chest, where Alasdair can feel his heartbeat. He flinches when Alasdair thumbs nipple, scenting anxious and aroused.

"You're a sight, like this," Alasdair says and means it. He wants to put him mouth on him, make him sigh.

"And you are..." Arthur squints his eyes, huffs and swallows and lets his head drop back. "I thought you smelled off."

Alasdair thinks of rot and dirt and iron. "Like?"

"Hot," Arthur's throat bobs, the movement strained with his neck stretched out like that. His thighs twitch against Alasdair's sides, like he can't decide whether he'd like to close them. Alasdair can smell the heat of him, stronger now. Maybe he's just squirming. "Yourself or, not yourself just... hot. I thought maybe sick but I didn't think--"

Alasdair shuts him up by pressing his lips to his sternum, has to reach down to fist himself at the first brush of skin against his lips. Arthur doesn't sigh so much as he just hold his breath, holding very still like he's still waiting to see what Alasdair will do next.

He drags it out to see how long he'll last, brushing his lips slowly down, then up again. He breathes warm against Arthur's chest like he is tempting the burn in his lungs until he can't help it himself and his lips leave a path of sucking kisses everywhere he can reach. Arthur bites back a gasp and twitches hard against the press of Alasdair's teeth, hands flying to find his shoulders. He keeps his hands there, like he might throw Alasdair off and knocks his knees against his hips. Alasdair lets go of himself and crowds closer, a hand on Arthur's thigh now, the other on his neck. The shift in weight seems to do something for him and he shivers falling limp again where he'd been tense. Or maybe it is Alasdair lips which find his neck, his jaw, leaving bruises where he can reach.

His hands get rougher and his hips roll down, against the inside of Arthur's thigh who sighs, finally, or maybe moans, the sound drowned out by the grunt of relief deep from Alasdair's chest when he finally gets the friction he needs. His hands find a purchase in Arthur's hair, his thighs, his waist, seemingly unable to hold still and hungry for the give of his flesh. It's Arthur who finally reaches out, first to tear off Alasdair's vest and then tugging at his belt, hissing until Alasdair gives in and helps him undo the buckle.

They both groan, Alasdair in relief and Arthur with a hitch, getting a good look at the thickness of him and thinking there is no way, there is no way--

Alasdair has him on his knees, bare chest to the ground before he can breathe a word, tearing his trousers and getting them halfway down his thighs before he crowds in close again. Arthur's calves are tangled between his and he reaches out with one hand instinctively to scruff him down against the ground. Arthur whines, low and aroused, and holds still.

He's small, Alasdair thinks, blinking stupidly down at the right bonnie sight between his thighs. Alasdair wants to lick him, suck him, finger him loose. He spreads him open with a rough grip and settles for sucking the taste of him off his fingers instead. They'll have time for that later, for all of it. Alasdair will make him sob on his fist before the week is out, will fuck him sore and full and his. Put a bite on him, where everyone will see. He doesn't have the patience now to take his time and he can't, he won't, his knot would--

I'll tear him, Alasdair thinks and he shudders, aroused and balking at the thought at once.

He reaches for his belt instead.

The tail of it whips against the tender edge of Arthur's thigh when he rips it off and he would have apologised if Arthur hadn't pressed his thighs together with a tight moan. If it leaves a mark he'll kiss it better and leave another later, later. He's panting like he's been running miles and needs both hands to do what he's planning, looping his belt around Arthur's tights and pulling the cinch tight enough that it will catch his cock between them like he needs. Arthur gasps and reaches back like it shocks him but he is shaking, wet and aroused and pliable when Alasdair drapes his chest against his back and reaches around to keep his head up with a fist in his hair. His jaw would be too low otherwise and Alasdair wants to kiss him, wants to mouth against his neck and his lips if he can reach them while he thrusts like a beast between his thighs.

"Good, be good," he mouths his praise against his jaw and slaps his thighs against the swell of Arthur's arse. Arthur sobs and fists the grass with one hand, reaching between his legs with the other to rub against Alasdair's cockhead and his, cupping them so they'll rub together and begging like the clever thing he is, already so good for him. Alasdair rewards him with his teeth, wants to eat him whole.

When he comes it's with a shout, one hand desperately reaching down to cinch his belt tighter and milk his knot. They are a mess of cum and slick; they stink of each other and the garden, rubbed filthy with sweat and grass. Arthur comes with a shiver and a sigh, tired and shaking and held up only by the grace of Alasdair's strength. His thighs will bruise.

It is a good thing that it is a warm spring; or warm enough at least that they won't catch their deaths sprawled out in the garden like this, lazy and sated. Alasdair's fingers find Arthur's hair again, kinder this time. He wonders about summer, and whether they can have the plot cleared and tilled before the weather turns.

He's dozing off, thinking about strawberries and counting the weeks till July when a shrill cry from the house startles him bad enough he's almost on his feet, cock wet and trousers stained at the knees, before he recognises Sean's voice.

"Is that me fecking shirt, you goddamned degenerate?!"

Next to him, loose and breathless, Arthur laughs.

#scoteng #have a merry spring everyone #i should title this one and the kitchen one shot the spring series #i'm in a mood for gardens in the spring #this is set in an AU where they haven't been living together too long #alasdair when arthur is annoying him: eedjiteedjiteedjiteedjit #alasdair when arthur is beneath him: clever thing #i'll edit it before it goes on ao3 it's fine for now

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faejilly · 4 months

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I set-up a StoryGraph account a few years ago largely because Amazon is evil (and the recent GoodReads YA thing emphasized that decision for me) BUT

The result of actually using it made me realize I only read nine books in 2022

Which would be fine if that was all I'd wanted to read but it was not

The Magpie Brain Was Killing My Fun! 😡🤬💢

So I signed up for a couple StoryGraph challenges (and completed them!) with a total goal of 26 books for 2023...

and it worked! I read THIRTY SEVEN !!Actual Books! (Ok mostly novellas so don't look at the word count but anyway! Still a yay!)🎇🎉🤩

I beat the Magpie Brain ™️ by distracting it with *graphs* 📈 🤣 and the little fire emoji I get on my home page for a reading streak 🔥

So for 2024 my goal is 52 books!

(And also to try and actually talk about books more, but I haven't decided how to make that a qualitative goal yet. Suggestions?)

The other mental (& physical) health thing I've been trying to pay more attention to is a virtual race app... as in I put my daily steps in and it tells me how far I got on Easter Island or across the Ukraine or something depending on what I signed up for

(it's pretty effective! I have twenty medals scattered around the house from the past few years! but sometimes I'd do three "races" in a row and walk all over the place and then do nothing for a month besides be a potato, so it was very inconsistent)

Thus I made my goal for the whole of 2023 to be 730 miles, so I'd average out walking two miles a day regardless of when I did which race.

And I MADE IT! (On Dec 29th! 😅 I had a whole two days to spare!)

So this year I am progressing up to a *three* mile a day average. WHICH IS 1,095 MILES. 👀

(Technically it's 1,098mi because 2024 is a leap year, but I'm giving myself a grace day and also a nicer number.)

So those are both things I'm going to try and talk more about on here this year! Whee! Books & Walking! Sounds pretty good, tbqh. 💚💚💚

But also I don't want to overdo it so today specifically all I did was play Garden Story while the husband played God of War (Ragnarok) 🤣🤣🤣

#happy new year #jilly spam #new year's resolutions #adjacent

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ofliterarynature · 11 months

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MAY 2023 WRAP UP

loved liked okay no thanks dnf book club*

I hope anyone else who had a long weekend for Memorial Day had some good reading! I fully intended to start Bordertown and next months book club but did not, oops. Instead I had an excellent time hiking at one of our state parks, so I guess the trade off is fair!

I’d also love recommendations for a classic mystery series or my next DWJ if you have any thoughts.

* * *

The highlight of this month was the final Peter Wimsey novel Busman’s Honeymoon, which was so good, everyone was right about the Harriet Vane books being the best, and I’m devastated there’s not more (I still have to hunt down the short stories, but it’s not the same).

As for the good, Mansfield Park was my last, much belated Austen and while slow, I love Fanny so much! House of Many Ways was also fun, and I think I can conclusively say I didn’t like HMC much not because tumblr had spoiled me, but because I enjoy Howl more in small doses and not as the entree. Clary Sage was an unexpected but welcome little addition to the Greenwing & Dart series (Hal!!!) and I’m mad at my brain that I haven’t been able to wrangle myself into reading Victoria’s previous release yet. Which is to say, I’ve thrown myself at KJ Charles because I know they’ll be enjoyable, easy reads and I’m trying desperately to get my reading brain back on track. (So far I’d rate Will Darling better than The Magpie Lord, if we want to talk her mystery series)

Salt Fat Acid Heat probably would have gotten bumped up to ‘liked” if I’d had a physical copy to look at (would not rec just the audiobook) so I might do that in the future. We Hunt the Flame was ok - definitely readable, I liked the second book more but maybe just from familiarity - but it’s on that YA/adult line I’m not super into right now. The Mimicking of Known Successes had interesting world building, but the mystery was meh. I also don’t think you should be able to call your mc sherlockian if they’re an actual member of a police force?

(The less said about Achilles the better, if I’d been reading it for myself I’d have quit before 50%)

Several DNFs this month, alas. Lizzie Bennet was the third and last of the P&P spin-offs I own and the only one I quit. I probably could have finished it, but it wasn’t amazing writing and the characters were very immature. Maybe it’d work better if you read it while watching the show? (And not 8 years later lol). I was super disappointed to quit Scorched Grace, queer nun + mystery is a fascinating combo, but it was trying so hard for gritty modern noir that it was off putting. I also tried and quit Mostly Dead Things the same day - I was drawn in by the weirdness of the blurb, but it was pretty quickly obvious it was going more sad than quirky and we weren’t going to get along.

#booklr #book log #2023 #wrap up 2023 #Bec posts #kj charles #we hunt the flame #song of Achilles #nine worlds #lord peter wimsey #house of many ways #mansfield park #the mimicking of known successes #salt fat acid heat

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mondays-writing-pit · 7 months

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everything he wants

(check this shit out on ao3, especially for the tags)

word count: 2,342

summary:

“We’ll look for one tonight after we finish off that nest, huh?” Roy promises and Jason nods, switching books for the one Roy threw at him. It’s a book the archer picked up for him anyway, collecting them like a magpie since he goes outside so much more often, and Jason likes how much Roy knows him. He’ll go by the little blurb on the back if there’s one and then bring it wherever home is at the time if he decides Jason will like it.

“Okay,” Jason answers him again because his brain only allows for one word functions when he’s happy and Roy beams at him before offering him a piece of rabbit just because he thinks it’s funny.

orrrr

if jason told roy he wanted a horse during the apocalypse roy would actually go out and find him a horse and be happy to do it. theyre so in love with each other that it hurts and yet they're still being weird about it.

“What are you doing?”

Roy remembers the first time he felt like his heart beat enough for both of them. It was back when Jason was still human and the bat (figuratively) had turned to smile at him after he finally caught up to the view Jason was rushing to show him. The sunrise was gorgeous but Roy couldn’t help where his gaze kept trailing, face hot as he stared at Jason’s side profile and let his mind run a mile a minute.

Roy wonders what feeling that same fuzziness now says about him.

They’ve learnt some…mundane things about Jason in the past five years he’s been a vampire, like the fact that he can purr and how his bat form is small enough for Roy to cuddle into his shirt. He’s like a tall furnace now too with his internal temperature needing to reach what could be considered fever heights for a human. Roy’s gushing again but he can’t help himself when Jason drools in his sleep because he can’t keep his mouth closed anymore.

Jason looks up at him like he didn’t hear him coming, like he doesn’t hear everything now, and shrugs before breaking Roy’s still beating heart. “I wanna watch the sunrise without burning to a pile of ashes so I’m researching.”

“Oh.” Roy doesn’t really know what to say but Jason saves him by going back to the book in his hands without prompt, humming one of the rotating tunes he’s been stuck on for the past week. They were driving away from Seattle and the only radio station that worked was a ‘80s greatest hits station, so Roy’s been hearing a lot of fleeting lyrics from Wham!, no matter how annoying he thought their music was. It sounds better in Jason’s voice.

They’re staying in an abandoned cabin right now because it has a generator and running water, which is really from the grace of God five years into this mess of an apocalypse, so, instead of pushing on with the conversation, Roy turns to rummage through the running fridge. They had to clean it out because five year old food is absolutely rancid but it was a task that Jason didn’t mind doing while Roy was out scavenging and setting up a perimeter, giving him a fangy smile in greeting when he came back with a rabbit.

“You don’t wanna just, like, sit on my shoulder or somethin’?” Roy finally offers and Jason looks up from his book after a few seconds of thought.

“I’ll fall asleep,” Jason murmurs, fingers tapping the cover of the book in thought. “I always fall asleep.”

“That’s true,” Roy answers after shutting the fridge with a cold container in his hands. There was a point where he and Jason were separated, the bat back in Gotham for a reason Roy doesn’t want to remember, and Roy still remembers how rabbit tastes in his mouth when he couldn’t get a fire started but it’s not a situation where he can be picky, so he’s just grateful for the fireplace instead.

Jason sighs through his nose and watches Roy pad over to the fireplace to get a fire started, gaze low as he turns back to his book again. “I was thinking about sitting in a tree,” Jason suggests just for his reaction because he already knows it’s not a good idea.

“That’s not enough shade,” Roy chides and Jason chuckles softly as he keeps reading, “because too many trees are thin now. It’s fall, dude.”

“I have to get outside somehow,” Jason murmurs, “and I know a tent is hard to find ‘cause everybody’s using them.”

“You also would practically have to camp outside and you don’t like camping,” Roy adds as he goes to grab a pan from the kitchen. Everything works but the fucking stove that he gives a disdained glance to before coming back to his fire.

“And they’re thin!”

“They can be. What are you reading, by the way?”

“Sun Protection for Life by John F. Barrow,” Jason answers, proud to have found a book solely about skin protection, “but he’s kinda nutty.”

“So are you,” Roy snorts and Jason throws an unoccupied book at his shoulder with a little frown. He’s pouting as he goes back to his book and Roy chuckles to himself as he returns to his searing rabbit.

“Give me my book back.”

“No.”

Jason flips him off with an even deeper frown and Roy launches the book at his forehead. He makes it too, because having an aim with no rivals comes with perks, and Jason lets out an embarrassed squawk.

“I’m gonna kill you in your fucking sleep!” Jason hisses, feisty like Damian, and Roy snorts out another laugh.

“You could kill me right now, what would I do?” Roy bites because nothing makes Jason feel worse than the thought of the archer actually dying. The bat hasn’t exactly recovered from the scar he left on Roy’s shoulder, the one right through the tattoo he said was his favorite a few years before all of this. It’s a low blow but Jason settles back on the floor where he was sitting before amongst all of the pillows and stops arguing, going back to his book instead but probably not reading anything.

(Jason brings the pillows from the previous place every time they have to move somewhere new and it’s not as useless as Roy thought at first, especially when they’ve shared so many beds in recent times and makes it easier to relax. Jason doesn’t need to sleep but he likes to and Roy kind of drilled it into him accidentally, suggesting he sleep during the day like how parents “suggest” cleaning your room. The knowledge that he sleeps makes Roy feel a little better because he knows Jason doesn’t watch him anymore or at least not as much as he used to.)

“What about an umbrella?”

“What?”

“An umbrella,” Roy says, in a way of an unspoken peace treaty because it makes him feel like shit when Jason gets that pouty, and Jason considers it for a few quiet seconds before shrugging, red eyes flicking up from the floor to Roy’s green.

“It would work,” Jason mumbles, “probably.”

“You get to push me out of bed if it doesn’t,” Roy promises, coming over to him with his pieces of rabbit still in the pan because plates would’ve been too big of a luxury.

“Okay,” Jason chuckles, no longer shying away at the smell of food. It used to make him nauseous but he’s gotten over it just enough. Roy thought it was pointless watching him shove food in his mouth just to spit it out seconds later, so he’s really glad that’s over. It was intriguing for about two minutes hearing how Jason’s tongue can’t even handle the texture anymore.

---

“Holy shit, I found one!”

It’s a lot Roy would do for Jason and, apparently, getting his ass kicked for an umbrella is one of them. They finished off the nest, because of course they did, but not without a fight. The office building got worse with the mutated vampires who are more animalistic than normal and Roy felt vindictive when he recalled telling Jason they should’ve just pushed through when they first came here.

“What?” Jason’s too frazzled to remember why they left out of their perfect little cabin in the woods besides the nest.

“I found a fucking umbrella!” Roy holds it up after pulling it out of the rubble like it’s Excalibur, free hand glued to his leaking side, and Jason jogs over to him after dropping the vampire he was drinking from. He wishes sometimes that drinking from other vampires gave some added benefits but he’s not sure how much more powerful he could get without scaring Roy off.

“Open it,” Jason says and Roy nods, taking it out of the plastic covering. They have less than an hour left before the sun starts to rise so this really is their first and last chance to find something they should’ve been looking for the entire time they’ve been out. It feels like it takes ten minutes for the umbrella to open up and show them it’s the most broken umbrella they’ve ever seen. Shit.

“Shit,” Roy curses and Jason gives a solemn shake of his head. “I’m sorry, Jaybird.”

“S’okay,” Jason answers before looking around, face brightening once he sees what they’re standing in front of. “Really okay, actually. C’mon.”

The strange thing about this apocalypse is the amount of buildings still standing. Jason drags him into an intact but severely looted 7-11 and sends him off to search after seeing the empty umbrella rack near the front.

They reconverge after finding three other umbrellas and Jason bares his fangs once he sees the one he found is just as broken as the one from outside. Roy looks at him with a little smile, “It’s okay, dude, we have two more. Ready?”

“Ready.” Jason nods, gaze fierce as he presses his thumb to the button that opens up his umbrella. Roy’s doesn’t even open but Jason does and it’s perfect enough to almost bring tears to his eyes, with one bent metal arm and a few holes peppered around.

“Alright, let’s go.” They don’t have time to celebrate with forty-five minutes left to get to some sort of peak. Roy leads him out, still holding his bleeding side, and Jason nods dazedly as he follows.

“I’ll drive,” Jason offers and Roy hands him the keys before slumping into the passenger seat of their stolen truck. Jason looks at him for a moment before shooing his hand away so he can grab the gauze from the backseat. Roy lets his hand fall and watches Jason take a moment to wrap his ribs. He practically feels the color coming back to his face once Jason’s done.

“Thank you,” Roy murmurs, shifting, and Jason nods.

“It’s not stitches but you won’t bleed out. Hold this.” Jason gives Roy the umbrella sitting on his lap before starting the car and taking a sharp left so they can make it to the only hill he knows and so he can focus on something other than the blood on his hands.

There hasn’t been any traffic since vampires took over the world and today’s no different, Jason quiet as he clambers out of the car after the short drive. Roy follows behind him and holds the umbrella over him right when the sky goes from dark blue to burnt orange. They made it.

“It’s been a long time, huh?” Roy looks at him but Jason doesn’t turn to look at him like usual, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket instead, but he does nod. “I don’t usually question your motives but what was all of this about?”

Jason gives himself a moment of pause before he starts to fidget with his hands, an uncharacteristic show of nerves. Roy is about to tell him not to worry about it but Jason shushes him and explains anyway while he’s flicking the dried flakes of blood off of his fingers, “It’s something me and Bruce used to do.”

“Huh.” That breaks Roy’s heart more than last night did. He wonders how many heartbreaks he can manage while he’s still human for the sake of them both.

“We would get food and just sit on the batmobile so we could watch the sun come up whenever we went on a mission together.” Jason’s gaze narrows at the brightness of the rays painting the sky even more of that pretty orange.

Their mentors aren’t something they’ve talked about often. Jason wasn't there when Dick killed the rest of their family, halfway across the country with Roy trying to find a pipe dream of a cure, and Roy hasn’t been sure of Oliver’s whereabouts since they left Seattle. They both have reason to keep to themselves.

“I understand, Jaybird,” Roy murmurs after a beat and crowds a little closer when Jason digs his teeth into his bottom lip because he knows that face. “I don’t think I ever said ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ but I am.”

“Dick killing all of them feels like a sick joke,” Jason murmurs and his gaze softens once the sun’s just high enough to peek through the little holes at the top of the umbrella instead, stinging a little and singeing his hair.

Roy doesn’t say anything but bumps their elbows together affectionately in a quiet reminder that he’s not going anywhere, letting Jason cuddle against him like they can get any closer. He’s never noticed that Jason still breathes despite all of the angsty sighing, so he shifts a little out of surprise when Jason’s shoulder rises against his before falling.

“If I’m honest–.”

“Roy.”

“If any of you would be evil, it would be Dick.”

“Roy,” Jason repeats but he’s laughing this time, “shut up, man.”

Roy chuckles himself and switches the umbrella with his other hand so he can throw his arm across Jason’s shoulders. “I hope this is everything you thought it would be, Jaybird.”

“…You shouldn’t be moving around so much when you’re bleeding,” Jason answers but he rests his head against Roy’s and doesn’t quite manage to hide his little smile.

#ao3 works #ao3 writer #fanfic #vampire jason todd #batfamily #human roy harper #roy harper #batfamily fic #jason todd x roy harper #vampire dick grayson #human bruce wayne #cross posted on ao3

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thevagabondexpress · 3 months

Note

Hi! I’m trying to befriend my favourite mutuals so I’m asking a bunch of questions to get to know you all better

What was/is your favourite subject in school? Were/are you good at it?

What country do you live in? What do you like/dislike about it?

Are you currently writing/planning an original story? If so, what is it about?

What genres of media do you usually consume? What books would you recommend to people?

What is your favourite poison?

what is your favourite method of murder (both to read about and what you would actually use)?

What patterns do you usually notice in the people that you hang out with?

Can I message you?

i. it depends, if you're talking elementary & middle school then english & lit hands down, but in high school it was the natural sciences: earth sciences, biology, ecology. i had great teachers for science in high school and i liked the way we did the classwork so i pulled good grades. the material itself was interesting too (i got to run around in the grass chasing butterflies with a net! we had microscopes!) and it didn't hurt that i had half the football team at least in my class and i somehow managed to get Gangsta Points(tm) with these kids for having lived on the south side of chicago as a little kid, so i managed to be cool for once.

ii. currently i live in the united states. there's so much to hate here; i'll list the one that's been dragging us most lately: privatized healthcare. as for things i like though, living in a corner of the country bordered by cryptid legends to the north (point pleasant's mothman) and west (the kelly-hopkinsville and hellier goblins), and the above-zero-fahrenheit winters, those aren't bad.

iii. i am currently working on some original projects, yes. i have three different main/major ideas but the one i'm focusing on most right now is the savage stars, which is book one of a duology i'm calling crater of grace. it has a series of short stories on ao3 if you want to check it out. it has holly black-inspired urban fantasy elements tucked into a grungy solarpunk space opera setting; i like to describe it as, "imagine if six of crows and star trek had a baby."

iv. i love sci-fi, fantasy, historical, murder mystery, and spicy queer romance. i especially like it when you get two or three or more of those genres combined. i do also love a good gothic horror novel. the books i'll always push at people are shirley jackson's we have always lived in the castle, heidi heilig's the girl from everywhere (as a standalone, the sequel is dead to me), kj charles's a charm of magpies, freya marske's the last binding, and any of anne perry's thomas pitt or william monk mysteries: anne is a classic in the victorian gothic crime novel genre.

v. i like Amanita phalloides, otherwise known as the death cap mushroom, purely because merricat blackwood does too and she is to me what hannibal is to a lot of other people. for legal reasons i do not mean this seriously.

vi. curse. definitely by laying a curse. send the hat man after this dude. literally kill him with the stuff of his own nightmares. but trapping him in a bell tower with the bells as they ring a la the nine tailors wouldn't be bad either.

vii. most of my friends are either queer or nerds or neurodivergent or all of the above. i have a surprising number of friends who are catholic. i do not know nearly enough goths which is a shame.

viii. yes. so long as it's not weirdly sexual or to plot a crime other than piracy, yes.

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alastairstom · 4 months

Text

Author Interview

I'm shamelessly stealing this from @my-archerboy because I want to play.

1. How many works do you have on ao3:

-> 87.

2. What’s my total ao3 wc:

-> 508,202

3. What are my top 5 fics by kudos:

Dancing in a Snowglobe Round and Round

We Found Wonderland (You and I Got Lost in It)

A Ghost in the Back of This Room

February 14: A Story of Years

A Therapeutic Chain of Events

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

-> I try to, but sometimes I forget because of ADHD reasons.

5. What fic has the angstiest ending?

-> Aw man, I don't like angst and don't really write it. I guess I'll go with my most bittersweet ending, which I think is probably The Stars Are Aligned (So Save That Heart for Me). It features Thomas and Alastair's reincarnations meeting for the first time before beginning a relationship.

6. What fic has the happiest ending?

-> Almost all of my fics have happy endings, so idk how to answer this. The one I think has the happiest ending will be an extremely controversial pick, though, because I know people usually read it as bittersweet. I pick A Ribbon of Dream. Thomas and Alastair have grown old together and are very happy.

7. Do you write crossovers?

-> Nope. Though I sometimes feel a strong compulsion to write a fic about Matthew Fairchild meeting Devi Vishwakumar, because I think very few things could be funnier.

8. Have you received hate on ao3?

-> Once, someone yelled at me for writing a Ben/Aneesa fanfic in the NHIE fandom. I just deleted the comment. I have gotten hate for my TSC fic on Tumblr, though.

9. Do you write smut?

-> Yes, but I need to be comfortable writing the characters. This means that I only write smut for Thomas/Alastair and Will/Tessa right now. I likely will feel able to write some stuff about Matthew/LI too because I'm so comfortable with Matthew, but those who know me will know that I do have some fandom-related trauma that will make writing smut about him very difficult. I may be able to do it if I explicitly age him up to be a DILF.

10. Have you had a fic get stolen?

-> I sure hope not.

11. Have you had a fic get translated?

-> Nope, but that's okay!

12. Have you co-written a fic?

-> I haven't, I'm pretty set in my writing processes and would only attempt it with a couple of people.

13. What’s your fav ship?

-> Thomas/Alastair

14. What’s a WIP you want to finish but never will?

-> This Alastair + Grace BFF story about them Christmas shopping. I hit a massive roadblock with it, set it aside, and never finished. Christmas has now passed, so ... alas.

15. What are my writing strengths?

-> I'm good at describing locations, expressions, and emotions. I actually know that I'm a good writer and am not going to pretend otherwise. I think that my strongest character to write is Matthew, followed closely by Alastair.

16. What are my writing weaknesses?

-> In fic? Plotting. I hate plotting. I like writing fluff and hurt/comfort. This is because I actually don't care about the plot of TID or TLH, I just adore the series because spending time with the characters is a joy.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages on ao3?

-> I don't speak Persian, Spanish, or Welsh, which would be the languages that would really help me. So, no. I do use small words and phrases, especially terms of endearment.

18. What’s the first fandom you wrote for?

-> Urusei Yatsura. I was like 12. I still occasionally write for it.

19. What fandom/ship have you not written but want to?

-> A Charm of Magpies, specifically Stephen/Lucien. I hope to write a little of them this year! One of my new year's resolutions is also to write more Jordelia fic.

20. What’s your fav fic you’ve written?

-> A Therapeutic Chain of Events, and also perhaps A Ribbon of Dream in a different way.

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devoraqs · 1 year

Text

To Know the Cosmos

Summary: Alexander comes to Nadia with an idea. (Set post-Asra Upright, alternate title: Alexander and Nadia nerd out about physics and stuff)

Characters: Nadia Satrinava, Alexander MacRionnag

Word Count: 1633 (+art)

---

It was an airy summer morning, the kind that one only found in early December, that greeted Alexander and Nadia as they stepped out into the Palace gardens. Lughnasa and Chandra had winged their way ahead, the owl’s graceful arcs in the sky circling the magpie’s brisk fitting. Nadia and Alexander smiled as they watched the two birds, and Alexander took Nadia’s arm as they began to walk.

They strolled in comfortable silence first, enjoying the warm breeze that carried wafts of the first summer blooms. Nadia hummed a bit every so often, and Alexander would join in, or Alexander would offer a quip or pun that would leave them both chuckling. Conversation eventually followed, ‘I trust your honeymoon was pleasant,” Nadia said, “you look well rested,”

“It was wonderful,” Alexander smiled, “Zadithi evenings are unmatched. Asra and Faust have never been happier. He sends his apologies, by the way, he wanted to join us but there was work to do at the shop.”

“Understandable,” Nadia nodded, “I should like to see him, though, perhaps I may pay you a visit before long?”

“Absolutely, we’d love to have you,” he said, though the small talk had made him think, “Actually, Nadia, might I propose something?”

Nadia tilted her head in interest, “Go on.”

“I studied in Zadith, as did Aisha and Salim. Their education is some of the best in the world. I had wondered if we might do something for Vesuvians too. Not just the university, I mean. More. Something accessible to every person and child. A library, or lecture hall, or… something else.”

“Else?” Nadia asked keenly, “What did you have in mind?”

“This would require your help. Not just funding, mind, but you.”

“I?”

“Aye,”

They both laughed at the unintentional wordplay, before Alexander continued, “You’re one of the best engineers I know, and certainly the most capable of what I’m thinking of. In Zadith there is a large hall, a rotunda really, that is full of glass replicas of planets and stars. An astrolabe, almost, but vast. One that you can walk amongst. Most of it to scale, too. And the best thing, Nadi, they move. There’s a clockwork operation system in place that simulates the orbit and rotation of the Earth and the planets. One could follow Venus as she circles the sun, or see how Jupiter dances with Ganymede and Io. It’s incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. And what’s more, everyone may see it. Everyone may learn. I want this for Vesuvia, a public amenity and source of entertainment and learning in one!”

Nadia’s eyes were wide, and glimmering with excitement, “A wonderful idea!” She exclaimed, “A planetarium!”

“Precisely,” Alexander replied, “And what’s more, I believe that the metalwork of the frames and gears could be alchemically enhanced. There is a method of making an alloy of magic and metal which gives it dexterity and strength, Aisha and Salim developed it. It requires a particularly inert metal, perhaps copper or silver, maybe a steel, and the magic is infused into it. Then, not only could the planets move, we could make it so that it is as accurate as we know the actual spheres to be. It would mean sophisticated gears and some complex designs to get it to work right, and to hang in perfect balance and order like the celestial bodies they’re in the image of but-“

“But it is certainly within our capabilities!” Nadia finished, then flushed slightly at her interjection, “Forgive my outburst, dear Alexander,”

“Not at all,”

“Oh, but the scale and intricacy of the project… it is certainly more complex than the automatons I have made before.”

Alexander bumped her shoulder lightly, affectionately, “Nadi, I would have not posited this at all if I didn’t believe that you would achieve it. My mother and father in law have already expressed interest in helping, and then… You’ve a brilliant eye for these things. Consider the clocks you crafted, the one in the ballroom and the one atop the steeple. Smoothly running and always accurate, aye?”

Nadia cocked her head, “Indeed. What do you… aha! I see! To make the model rotate and move in real time with constancy and reliability, it requires the same kind of machinery but on a planetary scale. For the planets, and the moons I would imagine. Perchance even we could hang the constellations in the periphery, fill the sky with stars. And the alchemical alloy will aid in this?”

“That’s the idea. I really think it could work.”

Nadia hummed, her eyes tracing some of the clouds in the horizon as she thought, “In my mind’s eye I can see the kind of structures that would support this. A ring and pulley system, a pendulum and counterweights… Like an astrolabe, you say? But one powered by clockwork… this will be quite an undertaking for us all. A feat of science in and of itself to construct… Oh! But of course, why not show the process as well? If this is to be a centre of learning, I should like for there be as much on offer for the people to learn as possible. A masterpiece of alchemy and engineering is one thing, but explaining how such a piece came into being is another altogether.”

Alexander nodded vehemently, “A museum! A museum dedicated to the scientific and magical arts! I shall say, this may be a first for Vesuvia,”

“And one long overdue,” Nadia said resolutely, “I care for these people, and they are still recovering from Lucio’s disaster of a reign. I am doing what I can to improve their welfare,”

“And you are doing splendidly,” Alexander interjected gently,

“Thank you,” Nadia’s lip twitched into a bashful smile for a moment, “though it is one thing to survive, another to live. I want to help them live. Maybe a museum and a planetarium made of science and magic in harmony would be a start.”

“It would be a start,” Alexander agreed.

“Funding… this will be a large expense, one that may seem frivolous while residents in the formerly flooded district are still struggling. Perhaps I might call upon the courtiers and nobility to donate,” a wry, dry smile played on her face, “they can never refuse a party, maybe a fundraising gala is in order. And then, the kudos and bragging rights when they inevitably must have a dedication laid to them in thanks for their generosity. A means to an end, it would mean something useful coming from them at least.”

Nadia and Alexander came to a stop before one of the ponds that dotted the grounds. The sun was reflected clearly in it, a bright disc gleaming in the still water.

“We can make the model sun actually shine,” Nadia mused, “I have read one of your papers, the one that theorised that light emitting spells are one and the same as the light from stars,”

“The Treatise on Celestiomagical Fusion,” Alexander said, “one of the first I wrote after my doctorate, I actually remember researching and writing that now. Astrolocational charge made me realise that there is magic in the cosmos, more than we previously thought. And I and other astronomers believe that all of the universe is made of the same stuff. I refuse to believe that the earth is that unique on the material level, and that means magical charge too.

“So why, when we on earth make light from magic, would not the stars function with a similar practice? And we can recreate that. The sun at the centre of the solar system would be the smaller cousin of the true star, but tangible.”

“I have more theories too, ones that I can’t really put into words just yet, I’d need to research more. Who knows, there might be more breakthroughs to be had. One day… Nadia do you think that one day, as we understand more about how physical matter and magical matter interact, that we could one day leave the Earth? Journey to the moon? Visit the planets in person in place of seeing their earthly rendering?”

“Perhaps. I certainly like to think we could, one day. We travel to the Realms of the Arcana,” Nadia replied, “and in doing so we leave Earth, but we step out of time itself. Further than the moon, yet closer. I wonder how they fit.”

Alexander frowned, “As do I. They are beings made of dust and stardust, like we are. They exist on a physical plane, even if it is seemingly a different one to the rock of the earth. If there’s one thing about the Arcana that I’m sure of, though, it is that we will never be sure of what they are and why they are. No amount of experiments or philosophy will give us answers. The Fool, for example. By the gods-!”

He rolled his eyes and Nadia laughed, “I see you and your patron do not often see eye to eye,”

“It’s not that,” Alexander grumbled, “it’s just that I can never get a straight answer out of them. They’re worse than the Magician. Sometimes Scout has to help, and even then I don’t think he knows what that deer...bird... person is on about. I ask a question, I get a riddle in response. And I say ‘I’m a scientist, not a philosopher! I like having answers to things!’ and then they laugh at me. Even the most strange objects observable in my telescope are more logical… Strike me, I swear we do get along! It’s just… oh, you know.”

“I do. Come, dear Alexander, let us finish out walk, then we can send for your parents in law and hopefully start drawing up plans. I’ve a good feeling about this.”

“Aye, me too.”

#the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana nadia #nadia satrinava #fan apprentice #apprentice alexander #my writing #my art #a friendship is sometimes built over nerdy stuff and that's beautiful

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windstarosprey · 1 year

Text

Getting back into the OC swing again with another new Mo-Bird. This time, I felt like doing a Power-type character, and nothing says Power like a big, bombshell bald eagle pro-wrestler gal piledriving guys until they explode! ------------------------------------------------------------- PROFILE NAME: Skyla "Star" the Eagle AGE: 19 HEIGHT: ~4'6'' BIRTHPLACE: Empire City, United Federation ALIGNMENT: Good LIKES: Wrestling, working out, The Bridal Princess (Mobian Princess Bride), Jinx the Magpie DISLIKES: Her mom and grandpa, her father's self-serving tendencies, lying and cheating, Meh Burger Self-help guru, reporter, and TV personality Soar the Eagle is well known for his bombastic personality, penchant for the dramatic, and for being something of a self-serving hypocrite. But, once upon a time, he was a respected and highly successful professional wrestler: Soaring Starflight, the United Federation's undisputed, heavyweight champion. Sadly, like many of his peers, the fame went to Soar's head and he began resting on his laurels. His skill and strength slowly declined as he began focusing more on sponsorship deals and building a media presence over training and fighting, eventually resulting in several crushing losses. After losing his sponsors and a messy divorce with his wife, Soar was left with next to nothing. No wealth, no fame, and only a dwindling number of fans who still respected him, including his daughter, Skyla. Growing up, Skyla's dad was her hero. She wanted to become a wrestler and be as strong and cool as he was, despite everyone else saying that she couldn't due to her gender, the most vocal being her stuffy, overbearing grandfather, Archibald (called Archie for short), who believes she'd be better off focusing on her education. Despite this, Skyla refused to give up and resolved to follow her dream, no matter what; resolve that only intensified after her father's fall from grace and abandonment by the rest of their family. Since then, Skyla's life has been a frantic balancing act. By day, she's a shy wallflower attending Empire City Community College, working to get a degree in Political Science or Medicine like her grandpa wants. But at night, she's a spirited spitfire hitting the gym to build up her muscles or duking it out at the school's wrestling team or in one of Empire City's underground fight clubs, hoping that one day, someone will scout her out and give her the chance to take her father's place in the ring as Star the Eagle, the second Soaring Starflight. Skyla is described as an "interesting contradiction" by those who know her. She juggles two different personas: the sweet, yet reserved student, which she uses at school and around her grandfather. And the boisterous, but playful fighter she acts like in the ring or in private. She also loves her father Soar very much and is one of the few people who will always stick up for him, even as she cringes in embarrassment at his self-serving, fame-hungry attitude. She cares about him because she knows he wasn't always like that, as he was the one who encouraged her to follow her dreams and be proud of who she is, and believes that the old him is still in there somewhere. --------------------------------------------------------------- Soar the Eagle is owned by Sega and OuiDo! Productions. Skyla/Star and Archibald are owned by me. Original artwork by WaitoChan. (twitter.com/WaitoChan)

#sonic oc #sonic the hedgehog #archie sonic #skyla the eagle #star the eagle #windstarosprey #sonic oc female #mobian #bird #eagle #bald eagle #wrestler #pro-wrestler #screamin' eagle

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muppeteyes1001 · 10 months

Note

Are you a kleptomaniac or do you just like stealing because you can?

My Muse is Under the Effects of a Truth Serum! Ask them Anything!!!

She perks at the sudden voice in front of her. Looking up from her work, which happened to be some minor repair on a piece of her gear, Kitt spies the greyface. Her icy green eyes narrow towards them. She had grown a great distaste for these cretins over the past couple months. This one, however, just seemed more nosy then aggressive in their approach. It was their only saving grace from her now usual vicious manner towards them.

Turning her attention back to her task, she decides to answer without bothering to look at them. Though, her ears stayed alert for anything suspicious.

"Hmm .. Not gonna lie! .. Pfft, well obviously" she mildly quipped before continuing.

"But, I do admit that bein' a klepto has it's thrills ... It's no secret that I'm quite partial to whatever lovely trinket happens ta capture my eye ... But ..... Am I a kleptomaniac? .. Well, it's not as if I'd just go an' do absolutely anything for somethin shiny an' sparkly like some daft magpie .. Believe or not, I do have my boundaries .. Such as, for example, a location .. If it's gonna be anything deep sea related, that's just an all out 'no' for me ... The sight of a sunkin' ship scares the hell outta me, so lookin' for the lost treasure of Atlantis is NOT gonna happen .... Or, if I see that the prize is simply not worth the trouble, that's also a definite turn down .... Unless, I have an employer whose willin' ta pay through the nose for my valuable skills .. Then we might talk ... Might" Kitt exclaims with a minute glance over at the anon.

"However, if you're really that keen on knowin' the real reason I chose my rather dubious occupation ... I guess you can say it's a sort of .. payback, in a way" the felinoid replies as she reaches for her canteen. Taking a long drink from it, she licks her lips before continuing.

"Ya see! .. Where I come from ... As well as in many other places, I'm sure .. money talks ... The more you have in your pocket, the more power you have .. The more power you have, the more control you have over the populace ... An' the more claim you have that your voice is that of the people ... What a joke!

In saying that, those who don't have power .. Children .. especially those without families ... have no voice .. Not for their own wants .. nor for their own futures ... They tend to become pawns under the authority of those who place more value in their titles an' bank accounts than the very lives they gamble with. Workhouses, servitude, military .... These are pretty much the only options made available to them ... Each life just another banknote neatly folded away in some avaricious bloke's pocket.

When I became orphaned after my parents deaths years ago, I pleaded an' begged not to be placed under the care of someone who they claimed was to be my new 'guardian' in my parents' will ... They never cared what type of person he was .. Nor did they listen to anything I said. They simply did their 'duty' an' got paid for it.

So, to put it simply ... I steal because, yes, I can! ... I'm damn good at it ... It took me years to perfect what I can do ... An' it gives me both pleasure and business doin' it .... Especially to those who'd be absolutely distraught an' angry over their loss of coin an' whatnot ... Funny enough, it seems to be the only way for many of them to show any kind of emotion when it comes ta swipin' their goods"

She then looks back up at the grey face before giving them an almost prideful smirk.

"Oh I won't be pickin' your pockets, mate ... If those cheap shades ya wear are any sign of what you have ... You've nothin' ta worry about"

#anon asks #ask meme #long post #lore #X3

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aceof-diamonds · 1 year

Text

Death Isn't A Mercy

The trees got denser the further you walked - at one point or another, you would have to finally admit you were lost. One hand kept a tight grip on the dagger at your side; a comfort, almost, something to keep you safe if you did happen to be stranded in this forest for the night. It was definitely something more to slash at the shrubs in the way of your path than to be used as a weapon to defend yourself - you were never one to fight - but it was still a comfort.

"That isn't going to help you much." The sudden voice from a tree that sat beside you made you flinch - something that pulled a laugh from whoever was lurking off to the side. Your grip on the dagger got tighter; knuckles turning white. There was a pause between the both of you - a moment when you swear your heart skipped a little - before you turned around. You could feel the blood drain from your face the second you turned to survey him, eyes now locked with the man who was once Astraea's infamous lover. The explosion had loosened the hands on the feral dog's leash.

Magpie looked different from the last time you saw him; he had looked more alive back then. His already pale skin now had a grey, translucent hint to it under the moonlight that slipped between the branches. His eyes were.. off - the bright blue that was once his right eye was now overtaken by an almost glowing white, similar to his hair; once blood red, now as white as death. His new demeanour held more confidence - more arrogance - as he leaned against the tree, the baseball bat held at his front.

A new variation of mismatched eyes lazily wandered over you, the smirk clear on his face.

"Someone's skittish." His smirk grew into a smile as he stepped forward, watching you as you refused to look away. "Don't worry about rushing to try and take every detail in now." He held out his arms as his smile faded. "I'm going to be the last thing you see. You'll have time to take it all in."

Shit. You knew you were dead. You were face to face with an assassin; there was a slim chance you’d make it out of this forest alive. But you couldn’t go down without a fight - maybe the brief combat training you had taken on previously could give you a chance to distract him before running. Where to actually run was another question, but… that would be something to work out with the few seconds grace you’d have.

The moment you lunged towards him, he was gone - he was definitely here in the first place, right? You caught yourself on a tree as you stumbled through the now empty space before you.

"I am still here." Your head whipped around to find him against another nearby tree, the smug expression still plastered onto his face. "You tried." He pouted, head tilting as his eyes stayed locked on you. "Want another go?" The baseball bat swung up onto his shoulder as he watched you expectantly, waiting for your next move.

You sprinted towards him once again, the movement more sudden - a plan to catch him off guard - though it still seemed to be expected. He was gone again the moment the dagger moved to slash through the air.

This time, when you steadied yourself and took a step back, your back hitting the chest of someone behind you made you freeze.

"Not good enough." His voice was low in your ear, breath causing goose bumps to rise over your body as it hit your cheek. Though that was the last thing on your mind as the bat he always kept close was hooked around your throat, crushing your windpipe under the pressure as you were pulled further into his chest.

You could feel his grin as you started struggling, slashing at anything you could. He barked out a laugh in response the moment the blade caught his arm - black blood weirdly cold against your hand as it started to steadily trickle out, a sensation your brain started to fixate on as the pressure on your throat increased and darkness started leaking into the edges of your vision.

"Maybe next time you'll do a little better." Your struggling slowly started to die down, the aimless slashing starting to get weaker as the darkness crept in further - there was no telling where you were now, trees distorted by black dots overtaking your vision, every sound distant other than the muffled thud of your dagger hitting the dirt below you. "I do doubt you will, though." His chuckle seemed far away as the pressure increased some more on your throat. And then there was nothing.

Birds gathered as your corpse dropped to the ground, curious after the sound of bones snapping echoed off the trees they resided in. Your killer - the current President of the city neighbouring you - laughed as he stood over your body, surveying his work before continuing on his way.

#bluejay writes #oc: magpie #uni: ancora #probably requires context but oh well #death stages baybee #shout out to the best proof reader

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personae-obscura · 2 months

Text

Fleur Green's Shop Record

Friday - Opening

Usual pre open duties; watering, labelling, organising the samples and specimens. Might need more shelves in the greenhouse soon. Perhaps even a second greenhouse. Went wandering in the woods north of Torver. Thank God it stopped raining. Seems I was guided by magpies today... one for sorrow two for joy. Perfect timing too, one of these I desperately need on hand fast for if Anne stops by again. Decided to mess around with the looking glass. There's invisible ink all over Uncle's map. Did he know about this? Can't exactly ask him. Apparently Elderphinium grows way down south where it's typically fairly desolate but nope, thriving there. Grabbed more than one just to be on the safe and will get to work immediately. If there's someone running around poisoning people with Gilded Dendra, I'd rather have this antidote on hand in as large a quantity as I can manage. It's the only antidote against it. I'll probably be pulling an all nighter. Customer: ??? Request: Elderphinium Sale: Sample of Elderphinium Notes: Not sure why she wants it, it's mostly a poison antidote though I suppose it could potentially help with pain relief and mental clarity as well? Still, she's clearly struggling with the Dendrew she somehow summoned and I'd rather stay on her good side Customer: Grace Enwright Notes: Handed over a note from her mother about the location of another plant that would be lovely in my shop. Said something about Long Meg. The name is familiar but I can't put my finger on it. I'll flip through books and photo albums after hours, see if that kickstarts my memory. Customer: Ann Wood Request: Break the curse... or the chain on the amulet Sale: Sample of Long Veracund Notes: Good thing I found it this morning! I was right to be worried. Dripped sap over the locket and the chain Customer: Amos Duncan Notes: Gave me some notes he found in a coat of my uncle's Customer: Simone Green Notes: Found an elixir recipe for me to try. I think that equipment is turning up soon? Can already do a lot with the specimens and samples I have but mixing them together to make something? I'll want specific equipment for that and a separate workspace so I can make triple sure it's sterilized inbetween uses. End Of Day: Long Meg! The tallest stone in one of the stone circles further North! How did I forget that, I visited when I was little. Found a beautiful specimen of Goldenlight in a rocky part of the riverbank. Since I'm going to be up anyway making as much Black Miasma antidote as I can, I decided to look at these notes Amos gave me. There was another that was in the desk drawer when I got here and I ignored it. They seem to fit together. And matched some doodles on the desk. Not doodles. Part of a rotating lock. Once I figured out the order, I could rotate them to match and then hit a hidden button on the edge of the desk. Found a business card and a note explaining the disk. Called the shop in Kendal and organised a visit after some chit chat. He mentioned being fascinated by fungi at the moment. I think I know exactly what samples to take him.

#c: undermeres horticulturalist #ic #v: main [fleur]

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