#in another land strife continues

[vibingpyro]

A Right Fool Indeed

Hobie tries his damnedest to keep you content and loved, always ensuring that you have little trinkets from him and that you know that you're loved with written reminders placed around the flat, however he can't always keep his promises of attending date nights time and time again due to something going haywire in the spider society, so, naturally on the fourth attempt of date night with Hobie being an no show, you give him the dreaded silent treatment.

Hobie enters through your shared flat door, in well consideration of your "no dimensional warping or teleporting in the house" rule you've set in place after too many incidents of being crashed into or something breaking due to his fashionable arrival and exits. He is also well prepared to suck up for missing yet another date night, having stopped along your favorite park to gather some flowers, gripping them carefully in his right hand.

He rolls his shoulders, calling out to you that he's home as he shuts the door behind him. he slugs off his vest, placing it on the coat rack to the side of the entryway before making his way further inside, searching for you. "Babe? Are you home?" He calls out once more, looking around in mild confusion, you usually would inform him if you left the apartment before he came back from an mission.

He keeps looking around, his face growing more and more confused each time as he turns up empty handed. That is, until he reaches the bedroom, opening the door with a soft creek of the old wood, Hobie's eyes finally land upon you, laying on your belly as you read a book. He brightens, walking further to kneel in front of you on the bed.

"Hello my little trouble n strife, I was looking for you." He smiles, his handful of flowers coming up to offer them to you, right beside your book as he peers down at it. "Now, I know, I've missed another date night and I truly am sorry, honest." He rambles meaningfully, "I nicked you some flowers from McAllen Park, the one where the little daises and daffodils are, plucked some just as an peace offering-" He looks up, and pauses, you...you haven't even looked up at him, matter of fact, you haven't spoke his ear off as he expected when he came within your view.

Hobie gives a small nervous chuckle, bringing his hand to wave out in front of your face, trying to figure out if you're truly that invested in your book. You merely blink, your eyes moving to side to side as you read each word with almost chilling nonchalance. Hobie only stares at you, his confusion growing each second longer than you read, not greeting him or anything.

Slowly, realization sinks in as you continue to ignore him. 'fuuuuck me' he thinks in his head, he leans closer, and lets his head fall upon the covers of the mattress in front of your book, as well as the flowers and groans. "Sweetheaaaart, are you that angry with me?" His muffled voice murmurs through the fabric of the mattress. You, as stubborn as ever, remain silent and keep your focus on your book.

Hobie looks up from having buried his head in the mattress to gauge if you're looking at him, or, at the very least not reading anymore, he only pouts slightly as he realizes his sweet partner wouldn't be his sweet partner without being as equally if not more stubborn than him.

Hobie places his hands in a begging motion on top of the bed, looking up at you with the most pitiful expression he can manage. "I know, darlin' I have no right to expect your forgiveness, it isn't fair to you that I can't attend the dates we plan and it breaks my heart that I can't be on time, or there at all. I'm a right fool-" that seems to catch your attention, as you close your book with a small thump, finally looking up at him and nod, with a matter of fact look on your face.

Hobie pauses, before repeating the phrase that got your attention, "I'm a right fool?" He questions, and at that you merely nod and smile satisfied with his conclusion, sitting up on the bed and walking out of the room, taking your book with you but you don't acknowledge Hobie other than that. Hobie stands, turning around to watch you leave with a befuddled look on his handsome features.

"Well, I'll be damned." He breathes, realizing the pure amount of effort and time he will have to put into getting you to speak with him again, he smiles and shakes his head. "That's my love, stubborn as a damn mule." He murmurs before walking out behind you, already thinking of ideas to break your silence.

#hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv hobie #hobart brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #across the spider verse

[philistiniphagottini]

hi i hope you don’t mind my coming back 😅 as i mentioned before i really enjoyed how you wrote my request before! c:

i had this kinda specific idea of something along the lines of a confession that gets rushed along via the ever famous only one bed trope with cloud strife? soft cloud is rare and underrated <3

thank you if you take this on, as always no pressure! all the best!! :D

Hi, welcome back! :D Oh my god yes, we need more soft Cloud, he's such a sweet bean. Thanks for the request, I had a lot of fun writing this. And sorry, I got a little carried away and it's over 2.5k words :P I hope you like it~

cw. fluff

"Sorry, this is all they had left…"

You blinked slowly, eyes drinking in the current predicament both you and your friend, Cloud, had somehow managed to land in. Your eyebrow twitched in irritation as a loud sigh fell from your parted lips, blowing a few stray strands of hair off of your exhausted features. Just great. Of course, the only room left available in this cheap ass motel just so happened to only have one bed in it. Yep, that would be your luck.

Your tired eyes scanned the dimly lit room, the light flickering occasionally as it struggled to stay on. You could empathize. After a tiring day of running errands and fighting off monsters, your lights were struggling to stay on as well. You noted how small the room was and it only caused you further irritation, seeing as how you and Cloud would have to huddle together like mackerel and live on top of each other for the next few hours. But what did you expect for such a cheap price? And there was no way in hell you were sleeping outside again. You had enough fill of outdoor camping to last you a lifetime. With another small huff you gave Cloud a tired look, noticing how the tension in his shoulders had yet to ease since he broke the news. It was highly inconvenient for both of you but it wasn’t his fault. No, you’d just let the owner have an earful in the morning. Right now, you were too exhausted to complain. You just wanted sleep.

"It’s fine, Cloud" you said, a small smile tilting your lips as you tried to ease his worries. "It’s not your fault."

He nodded along to your words but a pensive frown still tugged at his lips, eyebrows pinched together as he silently chewed on his lips. It was obvious something was bothering him but you decided not to push it further. Instead, you dropped your bag at the foot of the bed and proceeded to kick your shoes off.

"Well, we could complain about this all night but it’s probably better to just get some rest" you stated.

Your eyes flickered back to where Cloud was. He had yet to move from the door. You sat at the edge of the bed, the springs creaking loudly in protest as your heavy boots hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Could you close the door?" you asked.

Cloud finally stirred from his thoughts at the sound of your voice. "Huh? Uh…sure."

He stepped into the room and shut the door behind him. He dropped his bag beside yours as his eyes scanned the room. There really wasn’t a lot of floor space left and he was starting to regret booking a room here for the night. He should have tried to find somewhere else. Though, he doubted you would have been too pleased with that idea. You had claimed that if you had to stay seated on his bike for even one more mile you were going to hurl. His eyes flickered in your direction as you scooted further onto the bed, deciding to settle one side as you rearrange the pillows to your liking. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, heart racing in his ears as his cheeks started to burn. He didn’t know if his poor heart would be able to handle this tonight. Having you sleep so close next to him, barely any room between your bodies. He was pretty sure if that happened the massive crush he had on you was going to inevitably get so much worse after tonight.

Cloud continued to stand at the foot of the bed awkwardly, debating whether he could actually huddle up into a ball on the floor and sleep comfortably. His attention snapped back to you when you cleared your throat.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

Cloud opened his mouth to speak but he decided to close it. He gathered his thoughts, eyes flicking nervously between you and the floor as he finally spoke up.

"I think I should sleep on the floor tonight" he mumbled softly.

You rolled your eyes so hard they almost disappeared into the back of your head. "No, you won’t."

Cloud’s frown only deepened. His lips parted but you cut him off before he could argue with you.

"You are not sleeping on that shitty floor tonight. There’s no room for you down there. Just take your gear off and get into bed."

"But-"

"I don’t want to hear some bullshit about you trying to be considerate, Cloud" you continued. "We’re grown ass adults; we can sleep in the same bed without it being weird."

Cloud’s posture was still tense, like he was anticipating an attack from an unknown source. You offered him a soft smile.

"I promise I won’t bite" you added with a teasing remark.

Cloud scowled softly as he waved his hand at you dismissively. "Alright, alright. I get your point. Man, you’re stubborn."

"Takes one to know one~"

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile as he turned his back to you, proceeding to take off his clunky gear and settle in for the night. His heart would not stop racing, fingers trembling as he undid the various clasps and buckles of his uniform, both elation and trepidation making his blood boil beneath his skin. And if it wasn’t for his own heartbeat droning so loudly in his ears, he might have been able to pick up on your own rambunctious heartbeat threatening to break free from your chest. You were silently screaming on the inside as you buried yourself under the covers of the blanket, mind swirling with thoughts that kept spinning like a record so fast that it made you dizzy. You started picking at the lint under your fingernails to try and keep your mind occupied but it wasn’t working. You were going to spend the night with the man you liked and it made your head feel giddy. You had been friends with Cloud for a very long time and somewhere along the way, your feelings for him shifted. What started out with mutual respect and pure platonic feelings bloomed into pure affection and ever longing yearning. You didn’t know if your poor heart was going to be able to take it this evening, having Cloud so close to you.

Once the last of Cloud’s gear clattered to the floor he straightened his back with a long sigh. He was tired so tired and sore from such a stressful day, yet the tension in his muscles refused to ease. He doubted he would get any rest tonight sleeping next to you. He stepped towards the door, making sure that it was locked before securing his weapon close to the side of the bed he would be sleeping on.

"I’m going to turn the light out now" he said.

You hummed in response, eyes falling shut when the light switched off, bathing the room in darkness. You tried your best to remain still, hands clasped tightly to your chest as your ears perked up to the sound of Cloud moving to the other side of the bed. Your pulse spiked rapidly as the mattress abruptly dipped, springs creaking as he settled in beside you. He hesitated for a moment but decided to join you under the covers, his back almost touching yours as he subconsciously shuffled closer to the warmth your body provided. You could feel him so close to you and you almost rolled away as your heart threatened to leap out of your throat. But if you did that, you’d just end up on the floor. This bed could just barely fit both of you on it. At least it was decently comfortable. Not the best but you’ve slept on worse. And at this point, anything was better than the cold scent of dirt and the unforgiving earth beneath you.

"Goodnight" you whispered into the darkness.

"Night" Cloud replied softly.

You buried your face further into your pillow, body curling further into yourself as you tried to focus on sleep and not the warm body that was resting right behind you. The soft chirps of crickets filled your ears, accompanied by Cloud’s light breaths tumbling from his slightly ajar lips. The darkness was a small comfort as your eyes felt heavy and you tried to get your wandering mind to sleep for the night.

Five minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then fifteen minutes passed.

Your eyes cracked open as an irritated huff stirred in the back of your throat. You fidgeted, moving your body to try and fall into a more comfortable position. Your eyes slipped close once more as you nudged your cheek against your pillow. Another five minutes eventually passed. A long sigh blew out your lips as you flipped onto your back, eyes peeling open to stare at the ceiling above your head, the old fan spinning above you barely even blowing a gentle breeze in your direction.

"Cloud, you awake?"

He hummed in response.

"I can’t sleep."

"Me neither" he admitted.

You turned your head in his direction, a frown pulling at your lips as you stared at his back. His shoulders were almost pressed against his ears, tension winding tight in his muscles as his body refused to relax next to you.

"Are you okay?" you asked. "You’ve been tense ever since we got here."

Cloud nodded; strands of his wild blond hair ruffled against the pillow supporting his head.

"I’m fine."

You didn’t believe him. You rolled over to face him, your breathing wavering as you slowly reached out to him. His spine went rigid as you placed the warm palm of your hand between his shoulder blades, his skin erupting with goosebumps at your mere touch. You slowly ran your hand along the ridges of his spine, trying to soothe the ache in his muscles.

"Come on, you can tell little ol’ me" you spoke gently. "Something is clearly bothering you."

"No, it isn’t" Cloud denied.

"Yes, it is" you prodded, your fingers poking at his arm. "Tell me."

"No."

You scowled. "Cloud-"

He couldn’t take it anymore. The soft melody of your voice whispering so soothingly next to his ear, the soft dulcet tones of concern lacing your voice. The way your hand felt on his body, accompanied by the trace of your fingertips. His head felt like it was going to explode, heart swelling with so much affection that it all came spilling out.

"I like you" he blurted.

As soon as the words left his lips, he wished he could pluck them out of the air and shove them back down his throat. That was not supposed to come out. This was not at all how he imagined he would confess to you. Any scenario but this one. Perhaps you hadn’t heard him? But that thought was quickly dashed. Your silence spoke volumes.

You fell eerily still behind him, the ministrations of your hand pausing. You stared at the back of his head in disbelief as every single thought in your head came to a screeching halt. Did you hear him right? Surely you didn’t. There was no way Cloud thought of you more than just a friend…right? Your tongue darted over your dry lips as you swallowed the lump in your throat, the gears in your brain working overtime to start moving again.

"I…huh?"

That was the only response that could work its way out of your mouth. You were frozen stiff, eyes wide and ready to pop out of your skull. Cloud shifted, slowly turning over to face you. Even in the darkness, you could see the bright shade of pink that dusted his cheeks and crept up to the tips of his ears. His eyes flickered around nervously, refusing to settle on one part of your face and instead focusing on any minute twitch in your expression. He sighed. You had obviously heard him and there wasn’t any going back now. He had to be brave and take the plunge. His hands slowly reached out and grabbed yours, fingers curling around your wrists and pressing against the sensitive pulse of your wrists. Your skin was boiling as he looked down at you with lidded eyes, lips so close you could almost taste him on the tip of your tongue. You did not pull away and he saw it as a sign to press forward.

"I said I like you" Cloud repeated, his voice much softer and intimate than before. "I have liked you for a long time now."

The tension in the air was so thick now you could cut it with a knife. The longer you continued to stare into Cloud’s bright eyes, the more you realised how sincere his words were. He wasn’t joking. He was serious. If you were dreaming right now, then you didn’t want to wake up. His warm breath tickled your skin as you took a deep breath, his familiar scent curling in your lungs and making your chest feel light. His fingers rubbed against the sensitive skin of your wrists; the pads of his fingertips lightly calloused from years of fighting. You were silent for a long time as Cloud patiently waited for you to pick the right words out of your head to respond. Much like his confession, the next words you spoke were rushed out on impulse.

"Kiss me."

Cloud blinked rapidly in response, the flush of his skin getting hotter as he stared down at you.

"Huh?"

Now it was his turn to act dumbfounded.

"Kiss me" you repeated, softly; slowly.

Your eyes lingered on his lightly chapped lips, the soft curve so enticingly inviting. The emotions inside of you were ready to boil over and you weren’t sure if you were going to start laughing or crying from the intense swell you felt inside your chest. You sucked down a sharp breath as Cloud suddenly leaned in and closed the distance between your lips. His lips were a lot softer than you imagined and before you knew it, you were kissing him back. The contact between you was much too brief for your liking. When Cloud pulled away to allow you to catch your breath, you were eager for more.

"Again?"

He obliged and placed another chaste kiss on your lips. Your eyes were lidded when he pulled back.

"Again."

You barely got the words out before your lips were smothered by his again. A contented noise stirred in your throat as you threw your arms around his neck, body pressing and tangling closer to one another in the passionate embrace. You were so happy that words couldn’t describe. It felt like a weight had been lifted off you, months and months of one-sided pining finally being reciprocated in a way you didn’t think possible. You didn’t know if you could pull away once you got a taste. The tension in Cloud’s body finally eased as his arms coiled around your waist and squeezed you tight, his excitement and relief of your acceptance expressed in the way he pressed his lisp to yours, his awkwardness slowly fading with each small brush.

"I like you too" you suddenly said; realising that you actually hadn’t verbally confirmed your feelings.

Cloud smiled softly as he pecked your lips once more. He didn’t need to hear you say it. All your affection for him had already been poured into your breath-taking kisses.

"I’m glad" he replied, lips tasting the shape of your mouth.

He squeezed your waist tightly, grip nearly bruising as the air was slowly squeezed from your lungs. You couldn’t contain your breathless giggles. You nuzzled your face against his, the tip of your nose brushing along the bridge of his as you smiled softly.

"I think we have a lot of lost time to catch up on" you said.

#my writing #request #ff7 #ff7 cloud #cloud strife #cloud strife x reader #gn!reader #x reader #fluff

[shroudkeeper]

"My lady.." He repeats to me, searching for something beyond this expression of bewilderment.

The question lingering in my mind was why he was dressed in such a fashion and if he was explaining his reasoning, I was deafened by the percussion caused by my beating heart and the gentle music of the kanzashi as he guided my chin so I could meet his glimmering eyes.

I stared and held my breath longer than I would have meant to, depriving it until my lungs burned in supplication for oxygen as I fought this desire to turn away from a caress, one I knew, in my heart of hearts, was benign.

There is little pleasure found in the touch of cold steel against the warmth of my skin; the smell and caress remind me of another time, another place, and never is it a recollection of good memories that chase it.

My body still recalls metal gauntlets curled around my bruising neck, the terrifying knowledge that air was being depleted out of me, the relentless pressure, then cold water, as cold as the machina they used. This reel of war, of pain etched upon the faces of young and old, of ravaged lands, of displaced people, they were faded images in the back of my mind.

My features did not betray my thoughts, for I was in a place far away at this moment, far from him and the leering merchant, reliving a time I had not openly shared with him, a part of history that could be reawakened in me by just a simple touch.

"Do you favor it?" Through the muffled speech, I anchored myself to his words and used them as a lure to guide me back to the present again, away from loss and strife. I breathe with ease again, my body reacts with relief as if pushing past its own trauma.

The air around us had stilled and time continued to stretch as he awaited an answer, spanning for what felt like an eternity before I felt my hands move again to answer him.

"I favor the man you are, not this mimicry of another."

#ffxiv #ffxiv writing #ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv gpose #midlander #miqo'te #kikyo takahashi #hancock fitzgerald #yall thought this was gonna be FUN? #how about we throw some past trauma for FUN #here we go with one of rivi's freaking curveballs of angst #this isn't his fault though #he just thought she may like this cause she seemed to chummy with clive #but if yall recall #clive never touched her bare skin #just her garment so --

[huntersrequiem-if]

Humans are so interesting. Their lives – so short. Instead of despairing, they live their days to the fullest. And despite – or in spite of how dangerous the world is, they still enjoy it. They dance, they laugh, they sing. And how she loves watching them revel.

Such a shame, then, that the majority of mortals sleep at night. She can't witness the bustling days of those below her as they go about their lives.. Not like her husband, Sun.

No matter, surely she can find something to entrain herself with.

Her gaze sweeps over Sabine, watching the low lights in the streets – help guide people walking towards their homes. Couples strolling hand in hand, while drunkards go to and fro the taverns.

And perhaps, if she paid close attention to the dark alleyways – perhaps she would see a flash of cold steel, a drop of blood running along the edge. Wrinkling her nose, she wrecks her gaze away from the scene.

She is in no mood to see those unsavory types.

From her spot in the sky, she searches for something interesting. Something joyous! She pauses when her gaze sweeps over a bickering couple, curious. Chuckling at the insults the men threw at each other, she finds herself amused. What caused such strife? Lingering, it becomes clear it's over ...dishes?

Shaking her head with a faint smile over her lips, she moves on.

Her eyes land on one of her temples, pleased to see that the priestesses are rousing. They gather in the courtyard, singing and dancing. Some of them play instruments, the dulcet tone of a harp reaching her ears. Humming, she closes her eyes, savoring the sweet tune. Smiling, she recognizes the notes, often accompanying prayers toward her.

Yes, she shall offer them a closer look, tomorrow. If only for how beautiful they revel, dancing and singing the night away. A blessing shall do nicely. …should she remember it tomorrow…

Still pleased, she turns to the one constant source of amusement and entrainment. Past the stone walls and towers – towards the castle. Tonight, it seems to be a banquet.

The nobles dance - women in beautiful dresses, men in tailored suits. The orchestra plays a slow ballad as the nobles twirl in tune with the music. The royal family sits upon their thrones, silent spectators.

Not unlike her, she muses.

Still, she lingers on, watching the mortals dance. Watches and listens to the whispers in the shadows as they plot and scheme to their heart's content.

Mortals. So simple. So complicated. They seem to enjoy – and detest at the same time – a simple life. When it gets boring, they complicate it.

Her amusement gets the better of her as she continues to listen on, the moon shining bright – a backdrop for those mortals. She laughs at their jokes, and she gasps at the thinly veiled insults. She hums and sings when she recognizes a song.

She is filled with bliss, even as the mortals begin to leave - first one nobleman departs from the banquet hall, followed by another couple. Eventually, nearly all of them had taken their leave. The orchestra plays a final mournful song, the notes filled with melancholy.

Despite the darkness of the night, the moon still shines brightly, accompanied by her darling stars.

Even so, she had her fill of mortals. Her gaze wanders away from them, from their cities – towards the wildness. Seeking out her favorite hunter.

Wyldewood is a treacherous place, where the trees reach towards the sky with sharp, jagged edges, and ferocious beasts that lurk in the shadows. The thick tangles of thorns and vines move with a mind of their own, claiming many mortal lives, should the woods be hungry.

Still, she must persist. It would be a shame to end this lovely night without even glimpsing her dear hunter.

First, she looks at the Skytree, the easiest to see with its gentle glow. A sigh leaves her as she finds it empty. She resigns herself to a more detailed search. Her eyes sweep over the scarce meadows – all empty – towards the places she knows the hunter likes to visit.

Ah – there they are! – perched on a branch, nearly obscured by the foliage. Yet, the leaves don’t manage to hide them completely, as moonlight shines through them. Smiling, she admired the way their skin seemed to glow in the soft moonlight. How utterly at ease they seem in the dark forest.

 The relaxed slope of their shoulders as they lean against the bark of the tree. The sinuous curve of their muscles as they rest their hands on their raised knee. The way their horns catch just the barest of light. The way their eyes shine in the dark like those of a predator.

Yet, they seem so soft as they gaze at the moon. Are they thinking of her? Are they talking with Astaroth?... are they content? 

Are they troubled?

Perhaps – she shall ask on the next full moon. She won’t forget, not this.

How she wishes they would speak their problems into the night, she would always listen – no matter how occupied she would be. She would lend a listening ear, and on their next meeting, she could offer more.

She loses track of the time as she looks at them.

The moon is descending – completing its celestial journey. She barely notices – until she can see no more.

#hunter's requiem if #owl hooting #interactive fiction #hr: moon #snippet #or dabble? still not decided

[dollcieee]

Finding Fluffy

Platonic! Kid! Cloud Strife x Kid! fem reader

Tifa and Y/n have been begging for their father to get them a cat for a long time now. When Tifa's twelfth birthday came up, Zander, one of the village elders, decided to give Tifa the white and mischievous kitten Fluffy.

Y/n was so ecstatic to see Tifa carrying a small kitten that she instantly took the cat and ran outside to find it a collar.

She got Fluffy a red bandana, but the kitten jumped out of Y/n's arms and ran off, leaving for Y/n to chase after it.

'Kitty, come back!'

Fluffy was much faster than her. In the end, she couldn't find her. She walked back to their house but stopped when she imagined an image of an angry Tifa scolding her for losing Fluffy.

Y/n started crying heavily and crouched, the ends of her pink sundress touching the ground, covering her face with both of her hands still holding the bandana. 

☪ ·̩

In the peaceful village of Nibelheim, a now 12-year-old Tifa wanders around the house in search of Y/n, her younger sister. Going out of their house, she finally finds her sister, her back facing Tifa.

"O-oh no.. Fluffy.." Y/n continues to sob while holding the red bandana she was supposed to make Fluffy wear.

"Y/n what's wrong?" Tifa pats her sister's back, concern written onto her face, but Y/n continues to cry, "Hey you can tell me what's wrong, you know" this time Tifa embraces her in a comforting hug.

"Fluffy.." Y/n whispers, trying not to cry anymore, Tifa now notices the absence of their new kitten and looks around and asked "Y/n, Where's Fluffy?" upon asking her that Y/n cries again, holding the bandana tightly this time "I lost her and I d-don't know where she is now *hic an-and I tried lo-looking for her b-but *hic I can't find her Tifa!".

"It's okay, we'll find her together, okay?" Tifa says as she lets go of her and urges Y/n to follow her, "Let's start looking at the village square".

"Wait- Tifa!" Tifa turns around towards her sister, tilting her head in a questioning manner.

"Hold hand" Y/n in a much better mood grabs Tifa's hand and they both go to the village square.

☪ ·̩

"You see anything there Y/n?"

"no..."

The Lockhart sisters moved to another place near a trailhead leading to a gate. It's been almost an hour now, but the sisters were determined to find their cat.

"Y/n! I'll go to the other side" Tifa shouted, running to the opposite direction Y/n is currently in.

"Okay!" Y/n shouted back and continued on looking at the bushes.

Y/n flinched when she saw movement in the bigger bushes in front of her. Thinking it might be Fluffy, she sneaked inside the bush to take a peek. She saw nothing except a top of someone's head.

'This one has a very sharp hair' she thought as she called out to whoever this mysterious blond person was, "Hey!" the boy stood up and looked around him surprised by the sudden voice.

"Hey Chocobo head!" She shouted again.

☪ ·̩

Okay, that actually irked Cloud a little bit. Whoever was calling him should just show themselves to him. He was so close to catching the white cat he's been following.

"Pssst... helloooo over here!" Cloud finally found the voice who's been calling to him, when he looked to where she was his eyes widened when he recognized the face of the girl, it's Tifa's younger sister, Y/n Lockhart.

"What are you doing here?" He started to walk towards Y/n, looking down at her as she tried to stand up properly.

"Your Cloud right?" She asked, patting her dress to remove whatever dirt particle landed in it.

"Yeah, that's me, what do you want?" He asked back, arms crossed to his chest "Well um.. I was hoping that.. By any chance, you saw a white kitty around here?" She looked at the ground and back to Clouds piercing blue eyes.

"I did, I would've caught it by now if it weren't for your shouting" He nonchalantly answered.

"Oh, sorry..hehe" She apologized, a sheepish grin forming on her face, Cloud sighed and started walking away from her.

"Where are you going?" She asked, following him from behind, "To find the cat"

They both walked to the darker part of the forest.

"I hope Fluffys nearby" she whispers to herself, but Cloud hears her.

"Fluffy is the name of the cat?" Cloud asks.

"Yeah.. me and Tifa just got her today, but she just had to run away and I lost her. Now we have to look for her in the middle of the woods" she ranted to Cloud even doing hand motions to prove her statement.  

Cloud just nodded to whatever she said and looked around while walking deeper to the forest, Y/n started to close her distance with Cloud, the dark forest was starting to scare her.

"Stay close, don't worry I know my way here" Cloud exclaims eyes not looking away at the front. Y/n felt a little sense of relief from what he said.

"Do you go here a lot?" She asked, wanting to get to know the loner boy, "Yeah, I find it peaceful here"

Y/n nodded looking at him for a minute, "Why don't you hangout with us next time? I'm sure everyone would've loved to play with you" she continued but before Cloud could even reply a meowing noise can be heard close to them.

"That could be Fluffy-!" Y/n ran, leaving Cloud behind "Wait-" he sighed in frustration but went after her anyway.

☪ ·̩

"Y/n you there?" Tifa came back to where she had last seen Y/n, looking around, she doesn't see her little sister. She looked up at the sky, the suns about to go down and they're not close to home.

'Dad must be worried' Tifa thought, looking at the place she had last seen Y/n, she thought about it for a moment and walked into the forest to see if she could spot her sister there.

"Y/n you better be safe.." she whispered to herself.

☪ ·̩

"Fluffy! You silly-silly cat!" Y/n carried Fluffy in her arms, hugging the kitten while swaying side by side.

"Meow"

"Don't you 'meow' me, you made me worried.."

"Don't just run *pant off like that you could've been *pant hurt.." Cloud scolded while trying to regain his steady breath back, Y/n didn't seem to care as she finally found her sister's cat. In a moment of silence they hear the shouts of Tifa nearby.

"Y/n? Y/n you there? Let's just look for Fluffy tomorrow. It's almost night-time"

"Tifa! We're here! Cloud's here too!" Y/n shouted back, looking at a now stiff postured Cloud, "Cloud, you'kay there?" She asked, leaning close to his face "ye-yeah I'm fine..".

"Hmm, okay then tomorrow we should-" "I gotta go now, don't tell Tifa anything" Cloud whos about to sprint stops for a moment and faces Y/n "about earlier I'd like to hangout with you" he runs off to another direction leaving a confused Y/n "Whatta weird kid..".

"Y/n there you are we should- you found Fluffy" Tifa said excitedly, grabbing Fluffy from Y/n's grasp "Also where's Cloud? I thought he was here as well" she looked around, no spiky-haired boy in sight.

"He went away I think I dunno" Y/n answered, tying the red bandana around Fluffy's neck.

"Well let's go home, dad's gonna get worried" Tifa holds Y/n's little hand

"Yeah! I'm hungry!"

The Lockhart sisters got home safe and sound, and ate dinner happily with their dad and new kitty Fluffy.

END.

#cloud strife x reader #cloud strife #fantasy vii #tifa lockhart #x reader #final fantasy 7 #female reader #platonic #cute #fanfic #nibelheim #cloud x tifa #cloud x reader #fluff #oneshot #fanfiction #random #ff7 tifa

[bagopucks]

M. Marner - Light My Love

✄————————————

Mitch Marner x Fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): none!

It felt like such a Mitch song, and I wanted to do something real tiny before going on to new requests!

—————————————

Can you light my love?

Flames glowing bright as the sun

Deeper than oceans you run

Watch as our world has begun

I was an art major, but my art never had feeling behind it. It was my passion, but somewhere along the line, I forgot passion in the midst of work. In the midst of going through the motions. I lost my motive and love for the things I made. My works had beauty, but they had no fire. They had no feeling.

Until I met Mitch.

My classmates often said the things they loved were their muses. Pets, music, books and movies, family or friends. Lovers.

Mitch was my friend, but he was too vast. Looking at him was overwhelming. Mitch was his own work of art. Made up of the elements. The ocean in his eyes and the earth in his hair. The wind that followed his stride on skates, and the fire that represented itself in the heat radiating off his skin any time of day.

He was vast, made up of cuts from all types of fabrics, his mind ran deeper than one could possibly imagine. His pain, shortcomings, and strife made him the man he was. Likewise, his accomplishments, past, and those who loved him. Every moment in his life shaped him. Mitch was like a ten page essay. Just when you got the motivation to start, you’d look at the ten empty pages and feel too overwhelmed to continue.

That’s how it felt when I pulled out a blank canvas and decided to use Mitch as my muse. It was blank, and I didn’t know where to begin. Or how to paint him. There was too much of him to cover, and I felt I’d never have enough paint to do it all.

When I met Mitch, I wanted to know him completely. From head to toe. From mind to heart. He became my next project.

Your mind is a stream of colors

Extending beyond our sky

A land of infinite wonders

A billion lightyears from here now

The days spent in cafe’s, dinky diners, and the living area of my apartment, were ones I looked forward to. I found myself asking Mitch about himself nonstop, and most questions he asked about me were pushed aside with quick or rushed answers.

I found that he was such a creative and lighthearted person. Full of childish wonder and boyish charm. He’d play nonstop if the world let him. Which I assumed was why he chose hockey as his career. Mitch loved touring me around Toronto, showing me things to take pictures of and explaining what he found beauty in and why.

In the late evenings, we found ourselves caught up in conversations of wild theories and subjective beliefs. If he believed in aliens. Which planets he wanted to visit. Who he thought built the pyramids and which conspiracy theories he believed or laughed at. Mitch’s mind worked a mile a minute.

He liked to tell me of all of his ideas for new workout routines, little senseless inventions he thought would be beneficial to life, and of all the things he wanted to try and experience.

Whoa, light my love

Whoa, light my love

My art adopted a brighter complexion each time I spent a new day with Mitch.

There was something about him and the way he saw the world, that was awfully refreshing.

I have seen pictures of time

The frames still in motion I find

A grand revolution outlined

Hate bound by fear will unwind

Through time I fell in love with Mitch and his beautiful mind. My pictures shifted from tourist spots and landscapes, to those of him that I snuck on nights out and nights in.

I could scroll through the photos and recall memories of each moment.

A photo of him mid laugh, hands held over the sink covered in white powder while there was some on his face and in his hair. The rest of the mess on the counter. I had been trying to help him learn to cook, and we ended up in a flower fight.

I had another photo of him. An ‘aerial’ view, where his head had been in my lap, a blanket pulled over his body but his bare shoulders peeked out just enough to know he was shirtless. I took that one after Mitch had showed up on my apartment doorstep, sore and miserable after a hard game. We became so comfortable with one another that he didn’t bat an eye when I invited him into my room to watch a movie and get a back rub.

My favorite photo of Mitch, was the one that finally allowed me to see him completely and clearly as my muse. The one that helped me bundle all of Mitch in his entirety, into one photo. Into one work of art.

A still of him in my art studio, the sun illuminating his figure from the skylights above. He was sat on the linen cloth I had spread across the stained wood floors, a canvas laid out that I told him he could use while I worked. The canvas had a brown blob on it with big orange eyes, and a white bandanna. The only reason I knew what it was is because Mitch never shut up about his dog. Little old Zeus, who I had the luxury of meeting on multiple occasions when we went for walks.

I took the picture when I turned to check on him, his face all scrunched up and focused. I captured the photo just after he’d gone to itch his cheek, smearing the brown he used for Zeus across his cheekbone. He looked so relaxed, and yet so happy at the same time. Content to do nothing with me but still do something in the same room.

I decided to use Mitch as a figurative muse first. So I painted him as things he reminded me of. When he asked about what I was doing for the art final, I never told him, and he only got fussy when I wouldn’t let him in my studio to see either. I invited him to the college’s gallery presentation of the art finals when the night came. I told him I was wearing baby blue, and he was welcome to do the same.

I told my teacher, that my plan was to reveal the final piece of my project at the viewing. That my final piece would be my ‘inspiration.’

The only reason she gave me an exception was because she said she saw a real improvement and emotion in my art. That in all the four years she taught me, she was incredibly proud and excited to see what had brought back my passion and desire to continue to create.

We were both hopeful that the moment, when it came, would go well.

Your mind is a stream of colors

Extending beyond our sky

A land of infinite wonders

A billion lightyears from here now

“Mitch!” I whisper-shouted over mumbling parents and guardians, lovers and friends. The showing was hosted in the library, big enough to house all of the art, and the right setting to let people know it wasn’t supposed to be loud. Those that came in mostly spent time looking at the art of who they came for.

I was stood somewhere around the middle of the room, my various pieces set up on easels I brought from my apartment, and one toward the end of my display still covered by a sheet.

Mitch quickly walked down the few steps by the door, swift to slip though the crowd to meet me by my displays. He wrapped his arms around my hips, and my own flew over his shoulders.

Our blues didn’t entirely match, but it was closer than I expected them to be. I wore a baby blue dress with a flowing skirt that stopped just above the knees, the sleeves made of lace that hugged my wrists and a bodice that hugged my torso and hips.

“Hey, so sorry I’m a little late.” I shook my head as I pulled away. I took a moment to examine Mitch’s outfit. Black slacks and a baby blue polo. I straightened his collar. He smiled bashfully.

“Don’t worry about it, Mitchell.” I teased quietly, barely able to contain my excitement. He could tell, and it made him all the more smiley than before.

“So? Can I finally see this stuff?”

“Goodness, Mitch.. I’ve been waiting so long.” My heart rate picked up. In this moment, I was more worried about him not liking my art, than the possibility of failing my last final. I reached for his hands, took them in my own, and stepped a few paces back. I led him toward the first canvas, his eyes already looking over my shoulder at the art before I could inform him of what it was.

“That was from our first hike.” His pearly smile made me giggle as he spoke. I let go of his hands and turned to look at the first painting. I considered a hike something to be done in mountains and wooded areas, but Mitch and I had walked for a while down the coastline that day. He tried to prove to me that a ‘hike’ didn’t have to be an incline.

“How’d you do that?” He reached out to run his fingers across the grooves and divots of dried oil paint. I had never painted with textures before, but I felt it was one of the many elements I needed to properly represent Mitch and all of his layers.

My eyes examined him, as he examined my art. That same wonder I used to see when he discussed his own passions, now presented itself in his eyes as he took in my creation. I hadn’t realized I became one of his new passions over time.

I reached for Mitch’s hand again, taking it and guiding him to the next piece.

“This one might be a little harder to guess-“

“You took pictures of this one when I was over at your place.” I was astounded by his attention to detail. “It had just finished raining outside. You said you liked the yellow in the clouds.”

We made eye contact. I couldn’t have been smiling any wider, and Mitch looked oddly proud of himself for remembering such a random detail.

“What’s the last one?” He was the first to break our eye contact, nodding behind me to the canvas covered by cloth. The same linen from my studio floor.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna get a snack or drink first?” I tried, my hand subconsciously squeezing Mitch’s.

“Come on. I’ve been waiting for like- a month to see all this.” He didn’t have to beg or ask much. I gave in quite easily. I took a step back, my breath caught in my lungs as I reached with my free hand to hoist the cloth up over the canvas.

“Okay.. but- I did my best. It’s not perfect.”

My third and final oil painting. Of Mitch in the middle of my studio floor. I used the photo I took of him, but in the background I added other elements. His jersey draped over the empty easel, and a pair of paint stained skates hanging from my wood shelves. I included the pair of his favorite slippers, a can or two of Red Bull, and a rolled up yoga mat. My favorite addition though, was the tiny details of our photos together, painted so they looked to be tapped up on the wall in the background.

I clenched my jaw while Mitch looked, his brow furrowing at first. Then his head tilted. I worried he wouldn’t like it, and his initial reaction had me pulling my hand away from his own.

Then his brow smoothed, and he stepped closer, eyes squinting to catch all the tiny details. His lips turned upward. He looked at me. I offered an uncertain smile.

“What made you do this?”

Whoa, light my love

Whoa, light my love

“You..” I shrugged. “You became my muse. I needed something to bring the feeling back into everything. My art, my life.. I didn’t really expect it to be you. But it was.” I looked back at the painting. “I caught this photo of you a little while back. I added some of your favorite things in there. Figured I didn’t need to include Zeus because you already had him in your own little painting.” I teased softly in hopes of easing my own tension. Mitch laughed softly.

He stepped up by my side, slipping his hands into his pockets.

“It’s really cool.. but you’re missing something, ya know?” His question had me raising my brow as I looked up at him. He looked down at me.

“Can’t have all my favorite things without you.” My heart skipped a beat, I giggled bashfully.

“Mitch-“

“I’m serious. Nothing else matters if you’re not there too.” He turned his body to face my own, and I found myself stumbling over my own thoughts. I was supposed to be the poetic and meaningful one. And yet I couldn’t think of a single thing.

“It’s almost perfect.” He continued, and I found the courage to meet his eyes.

I decided to test him. To be certain.

“What would make it perfect?” I was hesitant. Hot all over, trying not to crash and burn.

“If you’d be mine.”

“God Mitch..” I breathed out in relief. He looked panicked for a moment, worried he’d crossed a boundary. I eased his nerves by springing forward to connect our lips. His hands raised to his sides in a concerned motion, before he relaxed and returned the kiss, his hands found my hips with ease.

One of my hands held his face, the other on his shoulder. By the time I felt satisfied, I pulled away breathlessly. Mitch’s wide eyes stared me down, smiles slow to find both of our lips.

“You came just when I needed you.”

“I like you so much.”

“I really like you too”

I really needed to pass that final, but it was the last thing on my mind.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #mitch marner #mitch marner x reader #mitch marner imagine #toronto maple leafs #maple leafs

[lunarthing159]

In Honor Of The Fact We're Getting TrafficLife Series S5 Tomorrow, Allow Me To Share This Little Rhyme/Song I Made!

( Ofc Spoiler Warning For Seasons 1-4 Of The TrafficLife Series )

The Ghosts Choir In The Sand Demand A Fight Of The Sun

Insanity Cackles Through The Land As Towers Fall Undone

Unfaithfulness, Discrimination, Strangled By These Soulbounds

As Wings Refused To Work As The Clocks Continued Ticking Down

A Field Of Flowers In The Wind, From The Fight, Would Not Be Far

No Blood Would End Up Lining The Way In The Win Of The Star

Soulbound To A Friend Would Turn Them Foes And Set Their Fate

Targeted Too Much Had The Bloodlust Stay, His Caution In A Grave

A Girl Wasn't Present Yet Heard Stories Of Their Strife

She'd Spend Her First Game Helping Friends, Giving Up All Her Lifes

Some Crazed Events, So Bloody Spent, Would Define The Winning Moon

Though The Neighbors Would End Up Betraying Their Way On The Path To Their Own Doom

A Crimson Crown Lays Awaiting On A Pedestal Of Blood

A Tower Standing High Leaves A Shadow In The Mud

A Bleeding Heart As A Facade For A Survivalist Looking Far

And A Gill Drowning In The Skies Became The Stance Of One Called Mars

The Sun, The Star, The Moon, And Mars, They Have Played Our Game Well

And With Our Peering Watchful Eyes, Their Story, This Song Will Tell

Now We Wait Above As They Play Below, Another Game Will Throw Them Round

For Another Time, Another Set Of Strife, A New Champion Will Be Crowned

#Lunar Writes Stuff #3rd life smp #last life smp #double life smp #limited life smp #traffic life #trafficblr #grian #scott smajor #smajor #smajor1995 #dangthatsalongname #pearlecentmoon #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood

[omntti]

another lore dump for my dnd campaign :)

sister wizard-demigoddesses teitoca (on the left) and mao (on the right.) teitoca was the goddess of chalk, and mao was the goddess of salt. they grew up during a time of strife, with their secluded home-village of lo'kureen threatened by the machinations of another, much older goddess: ruee, the goddess of blood. ruee had spent about 20 years prior to the girls' birth leading a crusade on the eastern coast of tunturioma, turning the land inhospitable to all but the hemoids over which she ruled. with starvation rapidly becoming a problem in lo'kureen, teitoca and mao were chosen to lead the townsfolk on a pilgrimage to find a new home.

teitoca, the goddess of chalk, collaborative magic, and ceremony. four years older than mao, teitoca was decisive, charismatic, but decidedly cowardly. she was the first to propose evacuating lo'kureen, suggesting that they seek a safe, hidden area in which to settle. about six months into their journey, by which point already had many lo'kureenians perished to the perils of the road, the walking town discovered a small, angular, concrete shack in the middle of the jungle they were passing through. this shack stood inconspicuously above ground, betraying neither its origin nor the sprawling bunker-complex buried underneath it. teitoca knew instantly upon descending into the bunkers that it was exactly what she had been looking for. she moved in that day, cultivating the underground community with her magic for years to come, christening the newly founded settlement "dur'elesh."

mao, the goddess of salt, abjurative magic, and resilience. more cunning and ambitious than her older sister, she devoted herself at a young age to the practice of battle magic, quickly rising the ranks in their town to become an official guardian of lo'kureen by the time she turned 17. around this time, with ruee's dark magic beginning to overtake the surrounding lands, mao took up the helm and started teaching defensive magic to the townspeople to ensure they could defend themselves. once lo'kureen was evacuated, this preparation proved invaluable, drastically reducing much of the risk of travel. upon discovering dur'elesh, a massive rift suddenly formed between mao and teitoca. despite being an optimal location to remain undetected and stay safe, living in dur'elesh would mean being near-entirely severed from the outside world. despite teitoca's pleas to stay, mao left dur'elesh, continuing west. during the continued travel, mao grew ever-stronger and ever more adventurous, establishing a distinct sect of warlocks who drew immense abjurative power from her. she and her group roamed for almost 5 more years, before finally discovering a frigid swath of snowy land at the northern tip of the continent, on the opposite side of a treacherous mountain range. it was here she founded the town of "mejya'nul." with mao's warlocks to keep them warm, the people of mejya'nul slowly developed the city into a thriving bastion against the cold.

#this ended up being 100x longer than i expected and that's okay <3 #tunturioma #mao #teitoca #dnd #illustration

[the-witchs-cafe]

Liang-Hui

The Tabletop Witch. It is in her nature to fantasize. Wandering through the fields, with a map in one hand and a bow in the other, the witch's destiny has only just begun! With the setting of the paper moon and the glass sun's prompted awakening, a whole new adventure is right around the corner; a never-ending fantasy escapade tailored for the witch's delights!

However, as the days went by, the scripts' stability and understandability have muddled over time; leaving the witch absolutely puzzled on where she must proceed most of the time. In the efforts to take charge of her own destiny and to keep this dream alive, she embarks on her own escapades; slaying monsters on her own volition and conquering all sorts of dangerous lands until the sun finally arises once more. Her arrows have dulled from the amount of blood of those who stumbled upon her labyrinth, so an instant death is out of the question.

So long as her party has a reason to stay by her side and this sense of normacy never goes away, she doesn't regret a thing she has done.

--

Barrier appearance:

A fantastical fairy tale that is being ripped at the seams; the effects of this witch's destruction is all the more evident to those who have had the misfortune of finding it. Villages have been set on fire, tunnels where monsters once hid are now empty, and the castle, where the wise, fatherly king once stood, has crumbled apart. Such is its appearance during the blood moon's reign-

But, at daytime, it all appears to be...idyllic; too good to even be true. Standing amidst the debris and ashes, the NPCs continue on with their jobs- not even taking those who have entered the labyrinth into consideration, for the protection and safety of their labyrinth is not their job; it is the task of the heroes who have kept them under this iron-clad rule for all their lives.

Not too far away from the village, a massacre is currently underway: ah! Must be a secret base for the villains- cleverly placed, that's true, but nothing escapes the witch's sight! The screams of distant NPCs echo throughout the barrier as the rest of the familiars try to continue with their jobs in spite of their tears and involuntary shaking. Emerging from the flames, the sight of these three figures have turned the spines of these lowly familiars and intruders into ice...

The heroines have arrived.

--

Familiars:

Ruoxi. Minions of the Tabletop Witch. Their duty is to act as party members. A mage with a silver tongue and golden heart, a swordswoman with a resolve as strong as steel, and the witch herself- an archer whose keen eyes target all even those creeping behind her. The perfect team! With the dawn of each day, another adventure is ready to unfold before them! It is such a shame that all three, both the familiars and the witch herself, often find themselves at a strife over the destinies they seek to charge towards.

-

Yao. Minions of the Tabletop Witch. Their duty is to act as non-playable characters. Merchants, blacksmiths, and quest-givers of all sorts; once having lived a peaceful life, these minions have been forced to keep up the charade as their witch continues on with her rampage. They do not perceive the visitors of this labyrinth; they are not the true players of this game.

#name comes from Kuo Liang-Hui; a Taiwanese novelist #same goes for her familiars (surnames of female taiwanese authors) #Amphibia #Marcy Wu #witch cards #mod h.n elly

[doc-avalon]

The Morrigán

Name: The Morrigan (Great Queen, Phantom Queen,) Mor Rioghain, Morgain, Mórrígu, mór rígain, Morgan La Fay, The Bean-Nighe or The Washer At The Ford, The Wife of the Green Man, the Wyrd Sisters.

Symbols: Raven or Crow, spear.

Goddess of: Battle, prophecy, fertility, and sovereignty

Usual Image: A shapeshifter, she appears in many forms, a beautiful maiden, a mature woman, an ancient hag, a crow, a bear, and others.

Relatives: Ernmas (mother) Cailitin, a Druid or Delbaeth or Dagda (father) Anu, Badb, Macha or Badb the Crow, Nemain the Venomous, Fea the Hateful. (Sisters or other aspects of her or goddesses she presided over.) Eriu, Fotla, and Banba (other sisters and goddesses of the land, not other aspects of her) Mechi (Son, father unknown) had three hearts, which were three serpents. The serpents, it was foretold, would destroy Ireland, so MacCecht killed him and burnt the hearts, throwing the ash into the river Berba; even then, the ash of his hearts boiled the waters of the river away and killed all the fish in the river.

Holy Books: Book of Leinster, Book of Fermoy

Synodeities: Kali (Hinduism,) Cathbodva (Gaul.)

(The Watcher of the Ford, illustration from Cuchulain, The Hound of Ulster, by Eleanor Hull 1904)

Details: Once you look into the myths about the Irish goddess Morrigan you begin to understand why the Celts developed the Celtic knot!

At her most basic, Morrigan was a goddess of battle, who did not take part in the battle itself, but instead stirred up strife, then flew over the battle in the form of a crow who picked who would die by casting confusion on them, afterward feasting on their remains.

Not your warm and affectionate sort of goddess, yet she was also a goddess of fertility and sovereignty, without whom the king would be powerless.

Going deeper into Morrigan (or The Morrigan as this may have at some time been a title) we find that she is also a triple goddess, who, along with either her sisters Badb and Macha or, in some accounts, Nemain the Venomous and Fea the Hateful, play a shifting role in scores of myths and legends.

What brings this goddess back in so many forms and guises, and age after age, returns in another form, even if this means mixing aspects that are both grand and horrific?

An answer might be found in the theory put forth by Ralph Abraham, mathematician, historian & Chaos theorist, in the book Chaos, Gaia, & Eros (1994, Harper Collins.)

To oversimplify it for this page, his theory is that three main forces have driven human consciousness through the ages, which he calls.

Gaia: The physical existence and living spirit of the created world.

Eros: The spiritual medium connecting Chaos & Gaia, the creative impulse and

Chaos: The creative void, the source of all forms.

From the Paleolithic to the present, these three forces moved us forward, with at times one or more of them being suppressed only to resurface again and again.

Whoever the original goddess was who returned as the Morrigan, she was most likely first worshipped in a very different form sometime between 10,000 & 4,000 B.C.E. During what he called the Gaia span (agriculture/partnership.)

With the coming of the Eros span, 4,000 B.C.E. to +/- 1962 A.D. (the wheel, patriarchy & science), she was re-imagined by a new way of thinking that often feared Chaos and almost always had, as part of its dominant mythos, the conquest of Chaos by a hero or god representing Order.

In this way, Morrigan changed from life-giver to carrion eater, and yet the three forces she is a part of continue to bring her back in multi-triad forms.

So that as the Eros span grew, she was not undone or put away but continued to shapeshift.

Changing from setting as a raven on the shoulder of dead Cú Chulainn to reappearing as Morgain La Fey in the tales of King Author, or as the wife of the Green Man and tempting Sir Gawain, to stirring the cauldron for Macbeth as the Wyrd sisters, and later as part of the Celtic Fairy faith, becoming the Bean-Nighe who is seen washing the bloody clothing of those who are about to die.

The thing is, in this theory, the Eros span has now begun to be overtaken by the now-developing Chaos span (Neo-Pagan, Post Modern, Chaos Theory, and meta-modern), which offers the hope of the end of the suppression of these three forces so they can be understood with positive effect.

No doubt the form that Morrigan takes in this era, if his theory is correct, will be most interesting indeed!

#the morrigan #morrigan #triple goddess #celtic goddess #raven

[practically-an-x-man]

— “not that i’m not enjoying being used as your pillow, but i think we’d be more comfortable in bed.”

Oooh alright! This is a really cute prompt (one of my favorites from the list tbh) so I'm struggling to pick out which couple I want to write this for. I'm thinking... hm, I'm still on that Eris and Rick kick, and they could use some fluff after that angst piece I wrote before, so let's go with that.

____ Late Nights

Word Count: 1.1k Content Warnings: none! (I guess a little swearing and teasing?) ____

It had been a difficult mission. No casualties, thank goodness, but it had been 72 continuous hours of crowded transit, drawn-out fights, and whining ex-cons. Blackguard alone was enough to drive them both half-mad, and it nearly earned him the point of Eris' spear. Rick had stopped her just in time, but... if she was going to lose her patience with anyone on the squad, he'd probably be missed the least. Insubordinate prick. Almost made Rick yearn for his military days.

But they'd all made it back safe, with ten years knocked off their sentences, and it meant Rick earned himself another night of semi-peaceful sleep.

Though he wasn't doing that just yet. The adrenaline of that last fight hadn't quite worn off, and it left him feeling too restless to sleep. They'd been caught by surprise right at the end of the mission, surrounded, and it would've meant the slaughter of the team if Eris hadn't pulled out their final stop.

Archaic magic. Shape-changing. He'd never fully understood it. But it saved the team, though it left Eris exhausted in the aftermath. Rick had almost had to carry him back to the plane - he was so drained his legs barely functioned.

From there she'd dozed: on the plane, on the bus to Belle Reve, in Rick's truck back to the apartment. Even here, now safe and sound in his living room, they lay half-covering his body, their face buried in his chest. The television droned on, some late-night sitcom rerun he'd flicked on just to fill the silence. Rick ran his fingers through Eris' hair, the touch just enough to make them sigh.

"Y'know, for the personification of strife, or whatever the hell you claim to be..." he murmured, "You're damn cute when you sleep."

"Mm. M'not cute." Eris mumbled, her voice almost lost against the fabric of his shirt. Rick almost chuckled.

"Right now y'are, darlin'."

"Could... could cut off your head... wouldn't even know it till you saw your body land next t'you," he responded, his voice still half-slurred with sleep. Rick wasn't even sure he knew what he was saying. He ran his hand over their back in slow circles, smiling when Eris burrowed in a little closer.

"I'm sure you could," Rick agreed, completely honest, "But you won't."

"Hm. Try me."

"Do it, then."

"Tomorrow." Eris sighed, "Just you wait. You're done for, Flag."

"Sure I am. Shame, too. I was gonna make French toast." he replied without moving an inch, "Guess you'll just have to steal the wallet off my dead body and go buy yourself breakfast instead."

"Maybe I could..." they drawled, the words punctuated by a yawn, "Save it for the afternoon. Lunchtime murder."

"I'll mark my calendar."

"S'yer own damn fault," Eris mumbled, just a few moments later, "You're the one who keeps bringing... fuckin'.... m'mortal metas home to bed with you. Some point you gotta, just... expect to get'cher head chopped off."

"Yeah, I know. Occupational hazard." he agreed, faintly amused at the whole conversation. His fingers traced idle patterns over Eris' bare back and shoulders, following the lines of a few old scars. Some of them, he knew, could have been older than he was - older than his whole family line, even. The thought bent strangely at his mind. Eris had always appeared his age, even a few years younger - younger in appearance at least, though their features had a strangely ancient quality to them. The closest he'd ever seen in the modern world was in Egypt, or perhaps Türkiye, and even that was a bit... shifted.

"Y've got... concerning taste." Eris' muffled voice pulled him from his thoughts, and this time Rick couldn't stifle the low laugh that rose in his chest.

"I'm aware."

" 'N I need to get your French toast recipe." she added the moment later, the words still dragging with sleep.

"It's just bread and eggs, babe."

" 'N vanilla. The good vanilla."

"Yeah, alright, and vanilla. And a little nutmeg n' cinnamon. And a couple other things." he explained, "I can show you how to make it tomorrow. Better not leave you hanging after I'm missin' my head and all."

"Hm. I won't make it as good as you," Eris protested, shifting a little in his grip. Rick rested his hand on the back of their head, scratching his nails lightly over their scalp. Eris hummed in contentment, a sound that almost reminded him of a purr.

"You will. It's not that hard."

"Shut up, Flag. 'M tryna save your life."

"Right. 'Course. Forget I said anything." he replied, amused. Eris' back hitched, and he realized a moment later that she was laughing. It made him smile. He imagined that this was what had drawn him in from the beginning. He'd met them out on the battlefield, of course - and they were just as terrifying there as they'd always been - but he'd asked them out for a drink in exchange for saving his life, and that was where he'd gotten to see this softer side for the first time.

And he still stood by his words. Eris was cute when he was sleepy. It was awfully disarming.

"Alright, well..." Rick muttered, stretching for the remote to shut off the television. It left the room dark and near-silent, and Eris grumbled his protest. Rick ran his fingers through his hair once again, savoring its soft curls. "Not that I'm not enjoying being used as your pillow, but I think we'd be more comfortable in bed."

"Mm. Stop chasing me away."

"I think I'm doing the opposite," he pointed out, shifting to sit up as he spoke, "Besides, weren't you the one who told me to stop putting metahumans in my bed?"

"Think I meant... stop putting succubi in your bed," Eris corrected, "M'not a succubus. Doesn't count."

Rick fought hard to bite back his smile. Eris, who would push and taunt and bite but at the end of the day really did want to be near him, who'd make up any sort of excuse to admit he didn't have that fondness, who insisted time and time again that he wasn't cute, he wasn't soft, that he'd most likely kill him in the morning...

"So a war god's safe to put in my bed? 'Cause I can just leave you here, if that's what you want..." Rick let his arms loosen around them, just enough for emphasis. Eris' fingers caught his bicep in an instant, holding him before he could get too far. Rick again bit back a smile.

"Discord. Not war." Eris muttered, tracing her finger along the tattoos on his bicep, " 'N I'm not a god, n' I'm not safe. But I'll... I'll make n'exception for you."

"I'm honored." he said, and lifted them into his arms, "Here we go, darlin'."

#my friends!!! #answered asks #my ocs #oc eris #my writing #oneshot #ficlet #fluff #domestic fluff #the suicide squad #rick flag #rick flag x oc

[knockout-stan]

That Dreadwing fic was amazing 🥺♥️!! Could you do something similar with wheeljack and/or starscream?

yo i got this ask on aug 6th and its the 31st im so sorry this is so late qwq hence why i call them “suggestions” and not “requests” cuz idk if im gonna even FOCKIN write. I only wrote it with Wheeljack for now but I may do Starscream (just a dif universe Starscream) at another time. wheeljack DOES call reader doll in this and that's like the ONLY implication of the reader being “femme” I try to write my readers as gn as possible but I couldn’t see Wheeljack calling his s/o any other nickname doll is just too perf. 

ANYWAYS. roll film. no tws there's no vomit like last time.

word count: 1,158

TFP!Wheeljack x sick!(kinda)femme!reader

You struggled to hoist yourself up on the passenger seat of Wheeljack's ship. A little more than usual, which was odd. You pushed the thought from your mind as you looked out the front window.

"Another energon mine?" You asked.

"Yep. Gotta mark this one on the map for later use." Wheeljack answered, punching in some buttons on the side.

"Y'know...I'm down to steal a cube of energon from one of these places for you." You commented, turning to face him.

He continued inputting coordinates. "Heists are pretty dangerous, doll. Sure you're up for it?" Wheeljack asked. He was worried about you getting captured, but he wasn't a controlling lover by any means.

You were about to assure him, when a gust of wind picked up outside, causing the ship to tilt slightly. Wheeljack was quick to steady it but you, not so much. You shifted your stance to catch yourself but unfortunately, your knees gave out causing you to land with an 'oomph!' on the large metal seat you stood on.

You tried to laugh it off but were thrown into a string of nasty coughs. You covered your mouth to catch any germs and phlegm and turned away from Wheeljack, preoccupied with this coughing fit.

"You alright, doll?" Wheeljack asked with concern.

"Ugh. I don't feel alright." You answered after you were done. The familiar and indescribable feeling of malaise began to settle in your body. You were tired before sure, but after that coughing fit, you were now exhausted.  Your body began to ache and your arms felt weak.

"Hm. Better get you to the Autobot base. The other humans will know what to do." Slowly, the ship lifted and began to soar through the air.

You wanted to retort and say you could take care of this yourself, but instead, you resigned to rolling your eyes and laying down in the passenger seat.

-

After a quick WebMD diagnosis from Jack, Raf, and Miko, you all reached a consensus. You had the flu.

"I know I'm sick and everything, but do I really have to be in the hospital bed the whole time?" You spoke out loud to Wheeljack once the base had emptied out.

"Makes me think the flu is a lot worse than it probably is," Wheeljack responded, masking his worry. He had yet to familiarize himself with common human occurrences like annual illnesses.

"Trust me it's not. Lasts for a week, tops. As long as I take care of myself, that is." You reassured him, changing the position of the damp towel on your forehead. You unknowingly sighed in frustration.

"Something else on your mind? Other than that rag?" Wheeljack asked.

You shook your head absentmindedly. "It's just... I hate that this is happening right now. Like it couldn't wait? I just absolutely HAD to get sick right as I'm suggesting a way for me to contribute?"

"Contribute?"

"Well- I mean- Like I-" You stammered a bit. "I mean, I was hoping to do a tiny little energon heist as a way to be helpful to you... Sometimes I..." You stalled, afraid to put your strife into words.

With a bitter and defeated sigh, you continued. "Sometimes I feel guilty for not contributing and helping you. Sure I'll go in and take pics and record stuff but I get this feeling I should be doing more for you."

"____, you don't need to do more." Wheeljack seemed sad as he spoke. It hurt him to see you put so much weight on yourself.

"But I want to." You rebutted.

"It wouldn't be fair of me or anyone else to put that pressure on you. So don't go doing it to yourself. Having you around is all the help I need from you. You and your pretty doll eyes remind me why I keep fighting those 'cons. The only thing I expect of you is just..." Wheeljack lifted one of his hands to graze the side of your face. His metal digit was rigid and scratched up from over the years of fighting and tinkering, yet he was so gentle with you.

"Stay with me for as long as you want. And stay being my doll." Wheeljack's expression softened into a gentle smile, with lovesick eyes that met yours. The bitter feeling in your chest bloomed into a giddy, shy feeling. You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment, hiding your reddened face.

Wheeljack scoffed at you endearingly. "Geez, you got me all soft now like the other bots." He quickly glanced behind him to check for any others. After making sure the coast was clear he began to mass shift into a smaller form, easier to hug and kiss.

One of his servos wrapped around your torso, while the other one gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"When you get better we can still do that heist if you really want to. For the purposes of having fun and ticking off the 'cons, of course." Wheeljack met your eyes with that oh-so-familiar gleam of excitement.

"You make me feel better already." You spoke just above a whisper, your face inches from his. He smiled in response, his spark fluttering from holding you so close.

"Well not really. I still feel congested but... Y'know what I mean." You chuckled and Wheeljack laughed as well. You met his gaze and spoke again. "I'm sorry that our adventures are put on hold because of me." You smiled sadly at him.

Wheeljack shrugged. " It's not your fault. Plus, a rest stop doesn't hurt every once in a while. We can watch some of those movies you're always talking about as you get better. Just rest up and stay cozy for me."

"Oh wait there's actually a movie I've been wanting you to watch!" You squirmed out of Wheeljack's grasp and grabbed your laptop from your bag. The laptop landed with a soft plop on the hospital bed and you started typing in your password.

Wheeljack faced the screen but watched you during the entire process. You probably didn't realize the grip you had over his spark, and your quiet mumbles as you guided through web pages were so cute. He was in love, with you, and every detail of you.

Little did he know, you could see his lovesick eyes staring at you through the reflection of the laptop screen. On impulse, you turned your head and gave him a quick peck on the lips and turned your head back to the screen.

"There it is. Ok, I'm gonna press play." You spoke and you scooted over to give Wheeljack some room to sit. He opted to instead lift you up and sit you down in front of him.

"How's this?" Wheeljack asked. His voice was low and close to your ear. You knew he was doing this on purpose and you almost wanted to scoff at him. You decided to lean back into him.

"This is nice." You answered, a smile on your face.

"Yeah. It is." He replied.

#Transformers Prime #tfp wheeljack #tfp x reader #transformers x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader #transformers #transformers fanfiction #transformers prime fanfiction #tfp #my writing

[skaylanphear]

Thunder and Shadow

Summary: Five years after Ultima’s defeat, those left behind have no choice but to push onward in a world still on the precipice of ruin. Left with all that remains of Clive—her twin boys—both Jill and Joshua do all that can be to ensure the world they grow up in is one of less strife and struggle than what came before. But the destruction of the crystals and the god that created them has left the aether and eikons in a state of chaotic distress that plagues the entirety of Valisthea. And now, to have received a letter from the north about stone bearers coming back to life, Jill has a new mystery to unfold.

At the same time, Clive finds himself waking on what he thinks must be the western Rosarian coast, though how he arrived there, he doesn’t know. Nor has he any idea how much time has passed since that final fight with Ultima. But as he begins to investigate, he sees a battle of eikonic proportions in the distance, one that revives old, bitter memories. Ifrit, perhaps, can make up for wrongs wrought so long ago.

Meanwhile, behind the scenes, a shadow manipulates them all, his eyes set on those who would become dominants and tools both.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4

Chapter 5

He had to do something. It was another bad eikon and he was the only one big enough to fight it. To protect people, like Uncle Joshua did, and his mother. He was like them, so he had to fight.

But, last time, when he'd fought, he'd—

There were flashes of black horns, infected claws and sharp teeth. Glowing eyes and roaring in his ears.

He was scared now and…

Why would Worm try to fight it? Why was he going closer to it? What if he got hurt?

What if he…?

"WORM!" Elwin screamed, his voice hiccupping and leaving him choking on his tears as he begged, "Come b-back!" He tried to reach out after him, but the blonde lady was holding him around the middle.

"You stay here, little lord," she said, but didn't she understand?!

Worm couldn't get hurt! Worm was—

He was their…

That's what Pup said, and…

"Worm," Elwin whimpered, coughing now in his distress.

"No!" Pup said through his own crying as he latched onto Elwin's arm. "Don't!"

The lady, her hold on him had loosened, because all around him there was static, the lightning starting to grow, beginning to glow.

"Stop!" Pup continued in his ear, still holding tight to him.

But he had to do something! He was the only one that could—

"PAPA SAID NO!" Pup shrieked.

Startled, Elwin finally turned to his brother, who was still so close when everyone else had stepped away at the sight of his glow. He was crying still, and hugging Elwin's arm against his chest. Even as lightning sparked from Elwin's fingertips, he remained with him.

Chest hitching, power diminishing, Elwin cried harder.

Leaning in close, Pup murmured, "Papa said stay here."

But—

Jumping as the ground trembled beneath them, the air going hot, Elwin and Pup whipped their heads around as a great wall of fire erupted from beyond the cliff upon which the village sat. A wall that closed in to form as single tower of flames that beamed up toward the clouds. Around them, people screamed and ran, but Elwin could feel it.

Leaving the land around smoldering, the flames soon dissipated, a set of massive, red-hot horns emerging up into view, followed by a mane of sheer white and cracked, molten flesh—hard, armored skin that burned and boiled from the inside, creating a heated, wavering sheen.

A massive beast, with a head shaped somewhere between a wolf and a coeurl, if they happened to be made of rocks and fire.

"Ifrit," Pup whispered.

Ifrit…

Read More

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #cliji #warfield #clive rosfield #clive #joshua rosfield #ff16 #FFXVI #fanfiction #postgame #thunder and shadow #chapter 5

[your-local-simp-writers]

Shadows of Duty and Love

Chapter 2: The Meeting

Word Count: 599

Warnings: None

Gaz x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The moon cast an eerie glow over the desolate landscape as Kyle moved stealthily through the night. He had successfully breached the compound and was closing in on his target. But as he turned a corner, he stumbled upon something he hadn't expected - a young woman.

She stood there, bathed in moonlight, her eyes reflecting a mixture of fear and determination. Her name was Y/N, a name that was now etched into Kyle's memory. She was the daughter of the man he had been sent to eliminate.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, two souls from opposite sides of a conflict. Y/N's presence was a stark contrast to the brutality of the world they inhabited. She was intelligent, kind, and determined to make a difference in a land torn apart by strife.

…

"I won't stop you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But I can't let you harm my people."

Kyle's training had prepared him for many things, but not for this. He found himself captivated by Y/N's strength and compassion. She was a beacon of hope amidst the chaos, and he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger.

As the minutes passed, they cautiously began to talk, their voices hushed in the stillness of the night.

"You shouldn't be here," Kyle finally said, his voice a low murmur. "This place is dangerous."

Y/N's gaze remained unwavering. "So are you. But you're here, aren't you?"

Kyle couldn't help but smirk at her boldness. "Touché."

…

Over the next few months, their meetings became more frequent. Kyle would return to the region for his missions, and Y/N would continue her work to help the people affected by the conflict. They had forged an unlikely connection, a connection that blurred the lines of allegiance and ideology.

Y/N was unlike anyone Kyle had ever met. She was sassy, unapologetically opinionated, and had a wicked sense of humor that could pierce through even the darkest of times. She challenged his beliefs and made him question the nature of his mission.

One evening, as they sat on a rooftop overlooking the war-torn city, Y/N spoke with a mischievous glint in her eye. "You know, you're not like the other soldiers I've encountered. They're all business, no heart."

Kyle chuckled, the sound echoing in the still night. "I suppose I've always been the odd one out."

"Or maybe you just needed someone to show you there's more to life than the battlefield," she retorted.

Her words hung in the air, a reminder of the life he had chosen and the paths he had walked. Kyle had always believed in the importance of his mission, but Y/N made him question if there was another way, a path to peace that didn't involve violence.

It was during those moments with Y/N that Kyle's heart softened, and he found himself torn between duty and the yearning for something more. He had seen the best and worst of humanity, but Y/N represented a chance at redemption.

As the months went by, their connection deepened, and Kyle knew that he had fallen for her. But with that realization came a crushing weight. Y/N was the daughter of the man he had been sent to eliminate, the man responsible for countless horrors.

He knew that their love was forbidden, a dangerous secret that could shatter the fragile peace they had found. Kyle had to make a choice, a choice between his duty to his country and the love he had found in the most unlikely of places.

Below are the previous and upcoming chapters: Chapter 1: The Covert Assignment

Chapter 3: Love and Loyalty

#kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle garrick fluff #kyle garrick fanfic #kyle gaz garrick fluff #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick #141 #141 x reader #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #gaz call of duty #gaz x you #gaz x female reader #gaz fluff #gaz fanfic #gaz #cod smut #cod gaz #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x female reader #cod fanfic #call of duty #female reader

[feather-dancer]

for the made up fic title: Solar Revolution

Wanted to give my brain something completely different a few days ago (It's not been working right during March) and to keep up my "written thing each month sooo jumped on this. I wasn't expecting Blinky to go and hijack the thing. I'm sorry you've been living in my askbox this long.

~

For many of troll kind, gemstones have been used to mark eras, be they good ones or ill, much like humans apparently do with their ores, metals and crowns. Tales from these times are then passed down the generations by the spoken word and later, as language and nuance became shared, through text. It is to Blinky’s great pleasure that he happens to own some of the latter! Granted they are a touch archaic even in the sense of the long lived and their meanings have warped with age as much as dust. Eng wema bet eng wema!  Still, as a historian, these offer vital clues to the lost and lessons for the modern day that are just as valuable as when they were first spoken. It is in such great tradition that he continues to parse occurrences from his own lifetime for the records and while he firmly believes highly in accuracy over embellishment, there is the odd temptation here and there to do so. Really it should be, well, expected in particularly in such turbulent times as these…

Anyways enough with all this dilly dallying about with context. Onwards to knowledge and greater understanding!

The earliest period he wishes to cover occurs after troll-kind ventured out from their ancestral homes and long before the most recent descendants of the great Galadrigal line came to be. It is known as the era of the amethyst when the various clans and species of trolls led largely separated lives from one another. This said there are the odd mention of unions or trade meaning isolationist tendencies as the krubera do in the modern was not an absolute. Many so-called mythicals still roamed wild including the now extinct fae. Peaceful would be quite the misnomer though it is certainly one of the uh quieter in comparison.

The next era would be the obsidian or karp. This is believed to have had a different name once but was later renamed for it’s notorious association with Gunmar. Strife with humans was rapidly growing beyond the mere handfuls as space was stolen and the ground was put to flame leading to the War for the Surface Lands. This led to the rise of Orlagk who formed the original Gumm-Gumms though they were not the army they would later become. With so much blood and stone being shed it is hardly a wonder someone like him was formed nor his growing reputation prior to his recruitment as a General.

After winning the ‘battle’ for leadership, he quickly cemented himself as a protector using those under his sway to protect any and all from humans that would do them harm. Even to us who knew nothing of war, he became lauded in song and story for the lives and homes he saved. An Opradush of our very own! Joining the side of this unstoppable force was an honour and things seemed ever so hopeful. Putting aside the odd human that was snacked upon surely a truce could have been come to at some point and the sword might be laid down? It was just for now, just until it was safe. His erkl will remember this better than he assuming he would be willing to impart it.

The emerald or weyrn era is a rather… Complicated one for many reasons and it’s influence has lasted well into the present. Long before there was a name to put to the face there were many rumours even amongst their kind of a rather strange sounding man. Old by their standards yet never seemed to pass, a nose buried in books as much as wading through bogs and a thirst for knowledge that could quite rival his own were it not for the rather distasteful subjects he engaged in. A mastery of time itself…? Even now the very idea disturbs! Still, he left things be and all were willing to ignore it as long as it stayed that way.

Alas he did not keep to this neutral vow and the world would be forced to know of the name Myrddin Wylt when he nestled close to Dwoza. In choosing to back the pale tyrant over those he shared an unusual kinship with, he merrily stoked the flames of Gunmar’s rage bringing lives on both sides of the border under increasing threat. For the greater good he would call it and yet he would later grovel for his mistake with a gift of hope. His supposed liaisons with the future clearly having left him blind to the obvious.

The golden era, sometimes referred to as the oblau or even named after the Ram. did not have quite as clear cut a line from the previous. It ebbed and flowed against one another depending on who’s sway one lived under or how personal things became. When attempts to mediate broke down again and again to be resolved through the clash of armies, one of Camelot’s own turned her back on the humans. She gifted our then defender the ability to create in an attempt to lessen the losses and promised to induce the very klokaran to come to our aid! It seemed far too good to be true and perhaps it was. These were painfully naïve times and peace between the sides still believed possible.

Even this was not to last. Distant rumours that were once old to those fleeing from their razed villages suddenly became fresh to ears closer to the frontline. Caverns had been raided to bring fresh ruz into the fold, whelps snatched from bedfurs, honourless bloodlust and inscription threatened in return for lives being spared. Such things seemed so absurd until it was their doors being battered and demands made just as they were warned. One of his Generals came with an ultimatum for Vendel who was leader at the time: Stand with their protector against those who would put them to the sword without flinching or perish. Despite the desperate pleadings of an unusually armoured youngling, they chose to flee. Alas, war does not care for neutrality and it came for them anyway. Were it not for the wizard, as distasteful as he is, these writing may well not have come to exist.

The Battle of Killahead has left scars that run deep in even the thickest of stone and have not eased since. The final gateway to the old lands was torn down to prevent the escape of Gunmar and his surviving Gumm-Gumms turning it into a prison. A truce made over the blood of a dying king to cease eating their kind and they would no longer be hunted. A Trollhunter gained by the name of Deya and the two wizards that had caused so many problems presumed to have destroyed one another. Nobody would admit their relief at the idea but it was there all the same. Come to think of it, the youngling was nowhere to be seen either.

The citrine era is marked from the moment Dwoza was abandoned in hopes of finding a new, safer home that would not be burdened with all the memories. The humans were fond of wandering even across the deepest of oceans and it stood to reason that troll-kind could do so themselves through the right method of transportation. While they lost many protector during the journey and a few of their own between an assassin and a survivor, they did successfully relocate in what would become Heartstone Trollmarket. This was a true melting pot of cultures, tribes and clans that had nowhere left to turn but each other to bring about something that had not existed before right under the human nose. It’s loss still causes his horns to itch.

This was not in fact an entirely peaceful time despite how it might sound. Between outbreaks of troll flu or other disease, the difficulties of frequent expansion and sabotage from those who were once mistakenly called impure it was wise not to be complacent but despite it all things endured. While their own progress was slow but meaningful, the world above simply moved on far faster than could have been imagined.

When the sapphire or meffa era came about it was the most dramatic thing to occur since the attempted assassination of Kanjigar a handful of decades prior. A human trollhunter? Such a silly concept when he could be crushed so easily by Bular’s claws! Yet much like them and against every odd, he endured and kept doing the impossible. He gathered around allies of all types including those unwelcome, defeated those who even their greatest never managed and even sacrificed his very self to protect everyone until his very last breath. While lost for a time after a feat of sorrow filled stupidity, he found a way to break Decimaar’s leash and while would not defeat it’s owner then, the killing blow would still be his to take.

Looking back, the young master had quite the habit of looking at encounters where he would be unlikely to walk away from and charging into them anyway for good or ill. Bones, his life, his humanity, nothing was too much to give! The problem with this attitude however is you yourself are a finite resource and you will run out. If such warnings fall on deaf ears there is simply nothing that could be done other than mourn when it finally happened.

The present era is simply known as the ved. The Amulet is lost to them and the Trollhunter exists merely as a concept now with the old wizard simply giving an apologetic shrug about it all while saying something meaningful only to him. As things are, matters had to be taken into their own hands if Daylight no longer wishes to fight on the behalf of good trolls. All they have ever wished for is to survive in a world that remains ignorant and hostile as the days of his youth so it stands to reason that if all else fails, it shall have to be seized instead. The two younger magic wards tried to talk the rest out of the idea but they have since been lost to misadventure and their return seen as unlikely. All the more reason to mark this as not a time for cowardice as they once might have done. If the balance is wrong, then it will take a revolution to make it right and their group of trolls, their favoured human companion along with his warhammer and a being known as an Akirdion who wished to assist are prepared for it.

In the name of our greatest Trollhunter who once walked both sides, under ram and klokaran, Humsween ti wemi vomi hi bruzen!

#Trollhunters #Tales of Arcadia #Writing

[inkedinfantasy]

My FFXIV Swap gift for @faunflower! It was really cool getting to learn more about Lou; I hope I did her justice! ^_^

Under the cut since it got kinda long: some Emet-Selch POV of the Rak'tika segment of Shadowbringers MSQ. 👀

Another day, another jaunt into the far corners of Norvrandt following in the footsteps of the Warrior of Light and his companions.

Not for long, of course. He was still quite unwelcome among their party, and while that might not ordinarily deter him, being confronted by the Night’s Blessed did. He was here to observe, after all, not share in their hapless conflicts with the First’s residents. And so he withdrew, content to watch from afar, at least until they managed to track down Rak’tika’s Lightwarden.

He had no doubt they’d find it, between the Warrior of Light’s uncommon tenacity and Lou’s…ambition? Audacity? Whatever you wished to call it. It was simply a matter of time until the lot of them could manage to put all the pieces together. For him, at least, all that meant was another exceptionally dull wait.

He watched idly as the Warrior and his friends ran hither and yon playing the good little ever-dutiful heroes. He wondered if Lou was regretting her insistence on traveling with them yet.

Probably not. Like called to like with this self-sacrificial adventurer sort, solving all the star’s problems with endless patience and enthusiasm. Most likely she was having the time of her life.

He certainly lacked the patience to even keep observing such things secondhand. He retreated further into the forest, nearer to the Viis village where he could doze off and await their coming once they worked out how to avoid being skewered by Ronka’s guardians.

It was just his luck that he was about to drift off when he spotted familiar figures in the distance, heading in the direction of the village. Just as expected, the Viis of Fanow did not suffer any trespassers to approach, descending on the group as soon as they’d trekked far enough into the forest.

The first warrior to attempt to land a blow met only Lou’s shield. The attacker leapt back defensively, spear still at the ready, but Lou made no move to counterattack, shouting something he couldn’t make out from his distance. She appeared to be attempting to talk the Viis down, a hand held out placatingly. The Viis warrior relaxed her stance minutely, sheathing her weapon entirely when the Miqo’te woman presented a seal they had surely gone to exhaustive lengths to acquire.

Their attackers appeased, they sheathed their weapons and continued down the path of azure flowers, approaching close enough now to make out what they were saying.

“‘Tis a boon to have a cooler head prevail, met so oft as we are with strife,” the Elezen man was remarking to Lou.

“A cooler head” wasn’t the phrase he’d use to describe the woman who’d tried to take on a Lightwarden singlehandedly armed only with a scavenged sword and a suicidal plot. Overconfident, perhaps. Rash, even. But level-headed? He scoffed to himself.

Still, progress was progress. Even as he watched them pass, he did not deign to rise from his spot, certain by now it would still be some time before they managed to accomplish anything of note.

* * *

Waiting, waiting, waiting. One of the truest curses of immortality in this shattered world was the sheer tedium of it, if you asked him. The Warrior and his allies had set off to traipse through yet more ruins, having pinpointed the Lightwarden’s location and lacking only the means to get there. Presumably, they had achieved something, if they were indeed the source of the brief fluctuation he’d felt in the Lifestream.

Half asleep once more as he was, he had neglected to note the quiet figures approaching until they were already upon him. A misstep, for all that there was naught in this forest that could truly pose a threat to him. He briefly lamented the futility of his search for even the most fleeting peace and quiet before opening his eyes to find a spear already at his throat.

“Who are you, and why are you here?” the Viis warrior demanded.

“Are you with the allies of Ronka?” another asked, a touch less suspiciously.

He glanced towards Fanow and smirked. “I suppose you could say that."

* * *

The mood was somber as he was marched into Fanow proper, the Viis declaring that they had apprehended him, taking him as an associate. The gunbreaker scoffed loudly at the prospect.

For his part, he merely took the scene in, eyebrow raised. “I needn’t be an associate to hear the clamor you’ve been raising all across the forest. What trouble have you gotten into this time?”

The quiet stretched on, nobody wanting to put it into words. Lou was the one that finally spoke up, explaining the whole story. The Eulmorans. The antidote. Their friend’s sacrifice.

Unfortunate, but hardly an unexpected outcome, considering the usual nature of their escapades. “I see. My condolences.”

“There was more.”

All attention snapped to the Warrior of Light, no one seeming to have expected him to speak up. He picked up the account where Lou had left off, mentioning the gale of wind that had come from the pit where their friend had fallen, explaining the spell she had saved herself with once before.

“How very interesting. I had thought I sensed a disturbance to the Lifestream just earlier.” He paused. “Only the once, mind you. Suggesting she is still adrift.”

At that faces fell once more, the brief spark of hope that had lit in Lou’s eyes dying out. As they knew well, if they had dealt with this spell before, locating one particular soul amidst the Lifestream would be an impossible task for any one of them, no matter their skill with magic.

However…

He affected a put-upon sigh. “Very well, then. I’ll go and fetch her.”

The gunbreaker rounded on him immediately. “And just why in the hells should we trust—”

“You could get her out? Truly?”

Lou’s voice interrupted the man’s snarl, and a heavy, charged silence descended.

“I can,” he said. “An unambiguously helpful gesture as a peace offering, we can call it, hmm? What say you?”

This time, she hesitated, looking to the tense, unhappy group. “If we have the chance to save her, we should take it,” she offered softly.

The gunbreaker sighed. “I suppose we’ve no other options.”

“Splendid. Now, take this.” He summoned a small aetherial lamp with a snap of creation magic. “You’ll need to find a suitable spot with strong enough resonance with the Lifestream. This will glow bright and steady when you find one. When you do, all you need to do is whistle.” He held the lamp out in Lou’s direction.

Lou studied his face with a serious expression, brow furrowed and mouth pressed into a flat, wary line as she accepted it from him, their fingers just barely brushing as he handed it over. He offered her only a wry smile in return, and she brushed past him towards the village’s exit without saying anything more, the others following in her wake in equal silence.

It was only a few minutes before he heard her piercing whistle ring out, and he arrived to find the lot of them crowded suspiciously around the spot that she had chosen, watching his approach with distrustful eyes.

“Now then, some space, if you please.” He tapped into his power, reaching out for the familiar flow of the Lifestream, quickly latching on to a robust, smooth current. Lou had chosen well, it seemed.

He closed his eyes, his focus sharpening, deepening. With two Wardens absorbed, the Warrior of Light’s soul was already a veritable beacon, scorching and bleaching away the color of every other soul in his vicinity. Even for someone with his sight, it took no small amount of concentration to pick out any other tiny sparks of color amidst the all-consuming Light. Casting his awareness into the Lifestream dulled its brilliance ever so slightly, enough to pick out their Miqo’te friend’s soul and summon it forth.

She appeared in a radiant glow that near-mirrored the Warrior’s soul, the lights of the others’ souls like moths to a flame as they rushed forth at once to tend to her.

Withdrawing his awareness back to the physical realm, the small constellation of souls surrounding him winked back into sharper view, gaining definition, his concentration holding just enough to make them out.

He observed them, idly, and froze.

Just for a moment, a split second before he released the hold on his soul sight, he could have sworn he spotted a color that he had not seen for a long, long, time, a color he would have known anywhere.

His eyes snapped open, and his gaze immediately met blue eyes staring at him warily.

It had been Lou’s soul he was staring at.

She’d quickly turned her attention back to the others, but he still felt off-kilter, whatever inane, sentimental exchange they were having buzzing in his periphery without comprehension. If they would only be quiet…

“And is there anything you’d like to say to me?” he interjected before they could keep going on. “Some word of thanks, perhaps?”

He’d slid right back into lofty and irritable, wishing he could catch another glimpse of what he’d seen—what he thought he’d seen—through the overwhelming brightness of the Warrior’s aether.

The Miqo’te woman at least had the decency to thank him, though the conversation after that turned to the Qitana Ravel and Rak’tika’s Lightwarden. The Warrior and his companions set off back towards Fanow, none of them eager to remain in his presence, friendly gesture or no. Only Lou lingered, arms folded, staring resolutely at the ground with a pensive expression.

Unable to help himself, he reached for his soul sight once more, colors flaring to life in more distinctness with the Warrior’s distance. With this new clarity, there was no denying it. Her soul was the precise color of Azem’s, and seeing it again so near made his heart clench in icy shock.

“Thank you.”

Lou’s voice shattered his sudden crisis, and he realized she was staring at him again. He schooled his expression into something dry and composed. “Uncritical gratitude? I may faint dead away on the spot.”

“I’m trying to be polite, you know. I’m grateful you saved Y’shtola, and it means a lot to me—to us—that you’d offer.”

“Hmm, I’m not certain your friends would share the sentiment, but it is most heartening to hear, nevertheless,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest theatrically.

She scoffed, but hid the faintest hint of a smile.

* * *

And just like that, mere bells after unceremoniously pulling one of their own from the Lifestream, the Warrior of Light and his companions had felled another Lightwarden. No one could say they lacked dedication, to be sure.

He had expected that dedication would carry them out of the Qitana Ravel promptly once their business was concluded, self-righteously satisfied with a job well done and ready to start their hunt anew.

Instead, they continued deeper into the ruins.

Honestly. He’d spent an age painstakingly making his way through the decrepit tunnels snaking all throughout the temple only to find them lingering over a room of old murals. He could hear their conversation echoing off the stone well before he even entered the chamber, speculating about the age of the paint and ancient wisdom or some such.

Well. If they were so interested in history, he had a thing or two he could tell them.

And perhaps, if he were lucky, Lou would find the sound of it a bit familiar.

* * *

They’d taken the revelation poorly, as he’d expected they would. It mattered little. They could carry on in their hushed, concerned murmurs about the truth of Hydaelyn’s nature; theirs were not the thoughts he cared to hear.

Lou, in stark contrast to the others, had not appeared particularly shaken by the idea. “Primal” did not carry the same weight for her, being as she was a native of the First, he supposed. As the others carried on with their fretting, she had turned her attention back to the murals, staring at the crude, faded depiction of Amaurot on the wall, entirely absorbed in the image. Her expression was not quite recognition, but something near enough to it to encourage him.

Paying the others no more mind, he sidled up behind her. “Something catch your eye?” he murmured.

She let out a startled gasp and drew back. “Something catch yours?” she countered. “Skulking around like that?”

“Merely taking in the artwork.” He looked up at the mural she had been studying, examining it as if he had not seen it countless times before, as if he could not recreate it from memory. “Ah, the glorious city of Amaurot. When the world was whole, you could find no finer place on the star.”

“Is that so?” Her tone was skeptical. “Did you look?”

It was cheeky and presumptuous and such an Azem question that he nearly laughed. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Amaurot was my home, but circumstances led me to see more of the star than most.”

“Circumstances? Of what sort?” This had captured her attention, her tone holding a hint of interest, and that, too, was achingly familiar. He dared to push further.

“The circumstances were not a what but a who. There was…a dear friend of mine who was ever getting themselves into trouble, and would call upon me for aid wherever they might have been. They were a traveler, a representative of our people to the rest of the star.”

“That sounds wonderful,” she said, almost to herself.

“It was,” he said, far more quietly. His gaze remained fixed on the mural, but he could feel her watching him, truly examining him for the first time since they’d met.

“You followed us down here,” she said at last. “You went to the trouble of recounting the stories of all these paintings.” “I did,” he said. “And?”

“You want to remember. You want us to remember.”

He said nothing.

She sighed, a hint of disappointment in the sound. “If you would speak about the world as you remember it, would you tell me more of the places you’ve seen?” she asked softly.

The voices echoing off the cavern’s walls grew suddenly louder, the sound of feet scraping against stone approaching them. He did not need to turn back to feel the weight of several other gazes on him. He turned to face Lou instead, offering a small smile. “Perhaps later. It would seem you have other places to be.”

Her eyes darted past him to the others and back to his face. “I will hold you to that, Emet-Selch.”

They parted there, Lou exiting with the others without another word.

He lingered a moment longer, casting one last glance over each of the murals. The images had clearly been foreign to her, but she was full of questions after seeing them, which was almost more than he’d dared to hope. It was yet one more incentive to ingratiate himself to the Warrior’s companions, to see what might be uncovered should she continue to ponder.

He had spent countless lifetimes without so much as a hope of ever finding something like this. He could stand to wait a little longer.

#ffxiv #ffxivswap #shadowbringers #my writing