#much older - he's always Been. he existed before written history and now he is just Fucking Tired. forgotten hollow is hidden by magic and

[rainymoodlet]

alsace dieudonné is the name on my grave, boy. that does not make it mine. 🦇

#ts4 #ts4 screenshots #ts4 cas #ts4 edit #ts4 vampires #sim: alsace #there are so many spoilers i could give abt this guy but him appearing before he's supposed to is ENOUGH (bites cheek) #i've been spendin time on his pinterest board and lil baby gen 3 was just born and ooOOOO i am so excited!! #tjol gen 3 is going to be more story-based!!! bc i am just all abuzz with ideas for lil baby krueger :') #here is all i will give abt this man for now: he is older than vlad #much older - he's always Been. he existed before written history and now he is just Fucking Tired. forgotten hollow is hidden by magic and #veils of amnesia spells in my universe and he's decided to shack up there (at vlad's allowance - tho he's older than and technically outran #s* the old fart - think greg vs kristopher) to hide from the upstart vamps who'd kill him just for the honor #alsace dieudonne is not his real name :)))) #anyway dfkjhsfkj i love you all i'm so excited for more kmik and for my tjol updates :'))) #i hope you're all doing welll ~ #also his voice claim is 30000% kratos i'm sorry but i'm not rly #also i guess spoilers but baby gen 3 is a BOYYYYYY AHHHH IM SO EXCITEDDD

[strawberrysturniolo]

never grow up part five

summary: after months of no contact, chris and sunny find themselves having a long awaited conversation about their relationship part four part six

The last four months were somehow the best and worst times of my life.

In those months I was able to learn so much more about myself, figuring out how to live without the one person I rested my head on for all of my life. It was a challenge, but I’m here, and I’m figuring it out. 

But then I think about the struggle, and the fact that every time I face some sort of hardship, I go to rest my head on a shoulder that doesn’t exist with me anymore. 

I’ve started to make some other friends, forcing myself to distract myself and stop this pit inside of me from growing any more. 

Part of me is still hoping, praying, and wishing on every star that our relationship – friendship can be saved. If we can get through this without losing touch with each other, we can get through anything, right? 

“Are you listening to me?” my mom’s voice snaps me out of my daze. 

“Sorry, yeah,” I nod, focusing back on here as she finishes her grocery shopping. I came with her to keep myself from going insane with my roommates, but now I’m wishing I stayed home to wallow. 

She’s asked me about Chris a few times, the casual, “What’s new with him?” type of questions. I always make something up or say “the same as always,” because even though she doesn’t know how things have changed, at least that answer isn’t a lie. Everything is the same as it’s been since he left without a word. 

I’ve caught myself looking at updates in his life since that’s all I have of him now. We haven’t talked since he called me and admitted to fucking someone else. I can’t begin to express the betrayal and pain I felt when he told me that. Even still, I haven’t brought myself to want to be near any other guy, and to think that he went to LA and slept with someone else so fast and easily makes me feel sick, like I was just another hookup for him despite our history. 

We never had the temptation to do that with each other before. When we slept together, it was because there was something there. We were special. 

I can’t keep myself from wondering if I ever cross his mind.I sit and wonder if he still thinks of me, or who he says is his best friend. 

I have made the painful and saddening mistake of watching some of their videos. I missed his voice, I missed watching us in the older videos, I missed those memories. 

“This one is too big, dipshit!” a familiar voice causes my head to turn.

“Then we’ll get the smaller one!”

“Well, what if we go to the next store and they don’t have any?”

“Jesus, what do you want from me!” Nick responds.

Nick.

“I’ll look over–” the third voice calls out, halting when his body collides with mine.

Oh my god.

“Chris!” my mom cheers. 

His eyes are stuck on mine, our bodies inches apart. I watch as he swallows nervously. I would do anything to know what he was thinking about right now. 

Finally, he snaps his attention from me and places it on my mom. He slaps the fakest, but most convincing smile on his face. 

“Hi!” he grins at her, stepping around me and giving her a hug.

“I haven’t seen you since the cookout,” she reminds him, swaying him a bit as she embraces him. He giggles, just like he always has when she does this. “I didn’t even know you left.”

He nods, tucking his hands into his pockets after she lets go of him. “Things just got kinda hectic and I didn’t have time. I’m sorry.”

So he apologizes to her, but not me. That only proves that his apology to her isn’t sincere. 

“You didn’t tell me he was home!” she says to me now. 

I keep my feelings written on my face. Anger, hurt, and loss.

“No one told me.”

He glances at me, then looks at his feet. “It was a surprise,” he lies.

“Whatever,” I mumble, taking the car keys from my mom and excusing myself to the car for the rest of her shopping. 

What a fucking asshole.

To not tell me he was coming back, lying to my mom, and pretending like he hasn’t ripped me apart over the last few months, I couldn’t keep looking at him. 

I sat in my moms car, trying everything in my power to keep myself from breaking down. This was all so unfair. Every memory we had together, he threw it all away. Him coming back without a word, without a text, a phone call… it all just proved that this friendship was over with. All because of a stupid night that clearly meant more to me than to him. 

I went back to my apartment that night, hiding my feelings from everyone. I didn’t think about calling him as much as I wanted to scream at him for making me feel this way. I laid in my bed and sat with a book, trying to distract myself from everything going on outside. 

If he could do this without hesitation, without thinking about me, and act on emotion because of his anger towards me for going on a date, all while he was going to lie to me and never tell me he had sex with someone else until he had a reason to lash out at me, then he doesn’t deserve my time. 

Eventually, I crumble.

The week went by with me knowing he was down the street and I couldn’t do anything about it. I used to walk into his house unannounced and be greeted with a hug by all of his family members, then spend the rest of the day in his room playing video games, listening to music, talking, just being with each other. 

The one person I wanted to talk to about everything going on was the one person I had to stay away from. I couldn’t tell him how awful I felt, and I couldn’t go to him for comfort. He was the one who ripped me apart. 

The lifelong friend I thought I never had to worry about losing had officially pulled himself out of my life. 

“Higher!” I screamed out for him below me. 

He grabbed the sides of the swing, pulling me back as far as he could without falling over and shoving me forward as hard as he could. “I’m trying!”

I felt myself fly in the air, a cheer of excitement leaving me as the brisk Boston air surrounded me, painting my face in a blush color as the chill burned me. 

“Yay!” he clapped from under me. 

At seven years old, we had it all. Everything that we now lost, we had when we were kids. How is that fair?

“Can you see the hockey rink from up there?!” he asked, raising his voice so I could hear him, as if I was in outer space. 

“Umm, I don’t know. I need to go higher.”

He stood behind me, trying to catch my seat of the swing so he could launch me higher in the air. His small feet couldn’t hold himself up as the impact of me flying back down collided with his waist. He flew back, his puffer coat catching some of the collision. While his body was okay, he fell backwards, spinning around to try catching himself. I jumped down from the swing as soon as I could, some fear stopping me from hopping down at the height I was at. 

I had never seen so much blood before. The mulch under the swingset cut his cheeks, and he must have smacked his nose because it was gushing blood. 

“Sunny!” he cried out, instantly bawling. Maybe he was embarrassed and that’s part of the reason he was crying, but he had so much blood on his face that he was clearly in pain. 

“Sorry!” my own eyes welled with tears as I tried to help him. I took off my gloves and let him use them as tissues, trying to stop the blood from pouring out. 

I held his hand as we stumbled back to his house. As soon as the door opened, he cried for his mom, to which she ran down the steps and scooped him up, trying to calm his hysterics. 

My mom came and picked me back up, and we returned a few hours later. 

“Mrs. Sturniolo, I have a present for Chris and his boo boo’s.”

She smiled down at me, then called for Chris to come down. He ran down the steps, displaying the scratches on his face that had stopped bleeding. 

I held out an ice cream cone for him, cookie dough to be exact. He smiled, hugged me, and held my hand as he pulled me inside, sitting down on the couch with me as he licked his ice cream. 

When I was dealing with family problems growing up, he was always there.

“I don’t know what to do anymore,” I cried, watching him wipe my tears before they could fall to my cheeks.

“Where’s your backpack?” he asked, and I pointed somewhere on the floor. 

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly, afraid to interrupt whatever he was doing. 

“You’re going to move in with me until your parents start being nice to each other.”

We were ten at the time, and I did end up moving in with them for about four days.

I slept in Chris’ bed with him, and his mom took us to school. My mom liked the idea until she heard about my plan of not coming back. Needless to say, that brought me home. 

I needed him back in my life, but I was too broken to cry for him again. 

Days later, I was in bed doing homework when a knock on my door finally pulled me out of my room. With both of my roommates gone, I figured one of them came back and forgot their key. Anyone who comes inside needs a code to get into the building. 

I opened the door without checking through the peephole. 

“Hi,” he said quietly, giving me a soft smile. 

My broken heart was suddenly mended together, and I hated myself for making that happen so easily.

“What are you doing here?”

He pulls a cookie dough ice cream cone from behind his back. 

“Apology ice cream?”

A frown starts to pull my lips downward. He notices, and invites himself in. 

“Can we talk?” 

I nod weakly. 

He starts walking towards my couch. Without thinking, I grab his hand and pull him into a hug. He freezes until my arms wrap around him. Then, his body relaxes. 

He wraps his arms tightly around my body, squeezing me. His head rests in the crook of my neck, his breath fanning my skin. 

“I needed you,” I breathe out, trying not to cry again.

“I know.”

“You weren’t there.”

He nods, squeezing me tighter. “I know.”

We stand in silence until he pulls away from me.

“Your ice cream is melting.”

I go to wipe my tears, but he beats me to it, just like he always did. 

“I’ll get a bowl for you,” he says. “Go sit.”

I probably look terrified on this couch.The last time he was here with me we almost had sex again. The last time he was here, everything fell apart. 

I take a bite of my melting ice cream, waiting for him to say something. 

“I panicked when you told me how you felt,” he confesses. “I love you so much. I’ve always loved you. I don’t want you to not be in my life. I was going fucking crazy for months. I missed you so fucking much, Sunny.”

I’m torn between the pain of knowing he was hurt, but also the relief knowing that I wasn’t alone in this. He was feeling the same way I was. If we just communicated then we could have gotten through this, but we wanted to be mad at the other person. 

“I want to be with you,” he says, holding my arms so I focus on him. “I really really do. You’re all I think about. We just need to talk about all of this.”

I nod, trying to think of the right thing to say. 

“When did you start liking me?” he asks. 

“I think right before you left last year,” I try to remember. “I loved being with you. It was different than before. I was getting butterflies with you. Then when you left, I got sad, I think.”

“I fell in love with you in sophomore year.”

My eyes dart to his, shock written on my face. 

“But you were dating–”

“I know,” he says. “I kept trying to break it off with her. She was jealous of you. Every girl was. They knew you were going to come first. She kept trying to tell me all this shit about how I would never be able to keep her or any other girl because I’m too obsessed with my best friend. Finally one day I just decided, fuck her, and that was it.”

I had met his ex-girlfriend a few times. Mostly in passing because the only time we hung out as a group at his house, she tried coming after my friendship with Chris. We lost some of our friendship because of her, but luckily, Chris did everything he could to bring it back to what it was once she was out of his life. 

“I missed you so much, Sun.”

I chew on my bottom lip, looking at him defeated. “I missed you.”

He opens his arms wide for me, then says “C’mere.”

I fall into his arms so easily, it’s like they were made for me. 

“Not letting go of you again, okay?” he whispers, kissing the top of my head before pulling me closer. “I promise.” 

“I love you so much, Chris.” It spills out of me. Maybe I’m able to cover it up as friendship love, the kind we always had for each other growing up–

“I love you.” He waits for me to look at him before continuing. “I love you so fucking much. I just–”

I hold my breath. 

“Right now… with me being in LA, I can’t give you what you deserve right now. I promise, once we’re living in the same place again, if you’re still wanting to be with me, I’ll do anything I can to keep you. I swear on it. I just don’t want to not be able to give you enough right now because of where we are in life.” 

Even though I wanted to try to have a relationship with him, I know this is the right thing, and I am so appreciative of him telling me how he feels this time despite his fears. If I could have had this answer months ago, I wouldn’t have fallen apart the way I did. 

“Is that okay?” he asks carefully. 

I sit up, nodding my head. 

He pushes my hair back behind my ears. “I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “Don’t be.” I give him a small smile. “I get it.”

He rubs my cheek with his thumb before dropping his hands into his lap. 

“I have to go home soon to finish packing for the airport.”

Back to LA he goes, I guess. 

“Did you sleep with anyone else other than the girl you told me about?”

He looks shocked that I would ask him this. “No– I just–” he sighs. “No. It was only her, and it was only one time. I felt like shit after. Got faded and went to Matt for help. He told me to call you, so I did, and that’s when you were on your date. I was so angry and fucked up I lashed out and told you. I shouldn’t have done it like that.” 

“That made me really upset. Not that you slept with someone– well, a little. But the fact that you used it as ammunition because you knew it would upset me.”

“I know,” he agrees. “That wasn’t nice.”

He grabs my ice cream and takes a bite, licking his finger when it drips down his hand. 

I rest my head on his shoulder, the same one I had been searching for for months. 

We sit in a comfortable silence while we share a melting ice cream.

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I ask, trying to break the silence but also figure out how long I’ll be waiting for him.

“With you.”

I look up at him, my eyes full. 

“Always with you,” he says, holding my chin.

There clearly isn’t a thought in either of our brains when we kiss each other again. It’s so soft, sweet, and gentle that it answers all of my questions. It gives me everything I need. 

He holds my cheeks, kissing me again and then moving to the side of my face, peppering me in kisses everywhere. A loud laugh leaves my mouth, making him smile into one more kiss. 

“What do you want to do about all of this?” he asks against my mouth. 

“I want to be with you, but I can’t make you ready for me,” I admit to him.

He pulls back and holds my hands. “Then we’ll wait until the timing is better, but I swear to God Sunny, do not fucking leave me. No matter when we get together, I want you in my life always. Please, don’t leave me alone again.”

I kiss him one more time, the last kiss we will share with each other indefinitely. 

He holds onto me for dear life, and I have to remind myself that this can’t go any further. 

It’s always been Chris Sturniolo, and there won’t be a day in my life where I’m not meant for him. 

“I promise.”

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilolo @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts @sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld @sturniolovoid @aerunn @sturniolosmind @oliviasturniolo21 @carolsturns1 @scarssturniolo @stuniolobbg @sturniolowhore @christurniolomyman

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #strawberrysturniolo #Spotify

[ireallywishiknew]

DO NOT READ IF YOU WANT TO READ TPW AS SPOILERS AHEAD!!! Keep scrolling right NOWWWW.

Anyway I just wanted to write some tormented older Nezha. Im on my phone so pls excuse the formating. Also i haven't written in years so pls be kind...

Enjoy?

*********

The system of democracy worked. Though people are born and die, the land survives, and moves on. Rivers reroute, vegetation, and crops re-grow with the right resources and systems. It took years of civil war, famine, disease, and bowing to Hesperia to stabilise the 12 provinces before a centralised government formed. Yet, through it all, he is still here.

They now call this period the Nikan Enlightenment. Ironic, he knows.

He is lost. Has been since he silently endured all that fell onto his shoulders at her death. Time has warped and twisted in 40 years of nursing delicate political threads of Nikan and Hesperia. In his waking hours, Nezha Yin only allows himself to remember the future he fought for after the end of all things he believed in.

He is no longer the young Warlord of the past, but now the Emperor of Nikan. The country is not the one she left behind or dreamed of, and every day, a small part of him disappears. His heart has become numb to the endlessness. He has become beyond hurr because his way did work and is working. It all feels pointless to Nezha whilst everyone else he loved is dead.

He catches himself in the mirrors as he walks but Nezha no longer recognises himself. He only sees the ghost of his Father, the previous Dragon Warlord, Vaisra. He sees his Father in every wrinkle and in his stern straight mouth, a live capsule of his father's disappointment. He can’t remember what it was like to smile. He looks like the very face that she kissed to destroy.

For years, silently he mourned for his lost family, his friends, his God - her. He once bent water at his will, but now, pathetically, can’t muster tears for his eyes. He consumed the drought from the land to his heart.

His memories betray him, the only thing he has is the stories on the streets. No one talks of Kitay's anxious genius or Venka's skill. They don't know that she was so much more than her anger, her fire. History will write them as traitors.

Are any of their ghosts at peace?

All these years have gone by, yet he yearns that he burnt alongside her like the rest. She was his divinity, and like a devout fool to a God that doesn't exist, he clings to her last command.

“Fix this.”

*

In the quiet of the nights, where there are no Hesperian eyes or Nikara assassins, he is isolated to his thoughts. Nezha allows himself to feel. What is left in his memories are a drug. Through them, he allows himself a sick fantasy and mercy of death.

He transports himself back to when he was no more than a child himself. Back to the white sandy beach of Speer. The place full of death and her ancestors’ bones. He is on his knees with Kitay’s lifeless body at his side and her small one in his arms.

He repeats this memory like a terrible obsession. Remembers the stone-cold terror settle in in his being, feeling her searing heat diminish from her body. He remembers every detail of her familiar blood-red, angry eyes, that he loved so fiercely, fade. He can replay the sound of her black blood spluttering from her mouth to only twist into a nightmare. She then laughs a blood-crazed sharp laugh. Her eyes become as black as her hatred, (did she ever love him?), and her voice blurs with those of the gods he has long since been blocked from.

“Destroy them," the gods whisper viciously through her, choking on her blood that she spits at his face.

She kills him in many ways. Rin will strangle his neck, which she burns to decapitate him. Sometimes she does it swiftly. Other times she does it slowly, so he dies in unfathomable pain. She smiles at him the brightest then.

He paints her vicious, she may blast him, or make his bones crack to be reduced to sweet nothing. She always uses her holy hellfire in his dreams. He begs for the burns to be real. He wishes his skin would sear and melt. He prays for the physical torment to silence his mind in the way that only she could bring. When he dreams death close, he is startled awake and left with his sweat-drenched clothes in the shadows of his soulless room.

He's brought prosperity to the country. Civilians are happy, but the Hesperians are still here. There is still the fight for independence. This fix is not enough.

He knows his living nightmare will not end until Nikan is free. There is no peace in death for Nezha. He will live and endure.

Alone, forever.

#tpw #the poppy war #the dragon republic #the burning god #rf kuang #yin nezha #fang runin #rin #chen kitay #sring venka #spoilers

[misc-obeyme]

I really like the MC and OC questions. I'd like to take this opportunity to ask you a few about yours : Relationships & Personality :2. Concept and design :2. Demon :3: Human :3. And also (if you like, it's not in the questions but it intrigues me): what is their favourite food? -^^

Hello there, ^^ anon!

Relationships & Personality 02: On a scale of 1 to 10, how annoying are they to Lucifer? :)

I'm gonna give Arsenios an average score of about an 8. Normally Arsenios avoids Lucifer because he knows he's gonna get annoyed lol. He doesn't want to start trouble. But if he actually talks to Lucifer, it shoots up to like the max. So averaging it out I'm going with eight.

Ciaran is always a 10. Ciaran doesn't like Lucifer very much for quite a while. They eventually come around, but even then, they are a troublemaker at heart. They are actively contributing to Lucifer's grey hairs and most of the time it isn't even on purpose.

Concept and design 02: What inspired you to create them, and what is the first thing you decided about them?

Arsenios was based on the concept of the crossroads demon, but specifically the idea that musicians will sell their soul in exchange for musical talent. I was just thinking about more traditional demon stories and how they might fit into the world of OM. So the first thing I decided about him were his powers and that part of his history.

The only thing that inspired me to create Ciaran was the need for an MC lol. I actually went through a few different iterations before finally settling on who they are now. They had different names and slightly different looks and personalities. Their backstory has always been somewhat the same except that the amount of siblings they had changed drastically. Like at one point, they had four siblings. But anyway, I think the first thing I decided about Ciaran was their name. It's a name I've always liked. So I basically went okay, my MC's name is Ciaran, now who are they? And then I took bits and pieces of everything I'd written so far and that's how Ciaran came to be lol.

Demon 03: Do they have any special abilities?

I answered this here! And rambled quite a bit, too lol. But I will add something about the way Arrie makes pacts - obviously the whole point is to give humans musical talent. So instead of just raw power, Arsenios is essentially giving the human he has a pact with knowledge and ability. He's passing on his own skill at playing an instrument to that human. He can still be controlled through the pact like any other demon, so I think he could give the human raw power if they demanded it. But that's not usually the point and most humans who make a pact with him are doing it for the talent.

Human 03: Did they believe in demons and angels before the exchange program? Did they have any contact with the paranormal before it?

Ciaran tries not to think about these things at all. They were perfectly happy not believing in such things and now they want to enjoy the ride of being an exchange student in the Devildom without having a religious crisis at the same time lol. Ciaran's mother is a devout Catholic and Ciaran was raised with that belief system. So for a time, they believed in all that stuff. But as they grew older, they began to question and eventually left the church altogether. So they very much stopped believing. After that, they didn't really have an opinion. If you asked them about what they believed, they would say they didn't know. They would say that they think it's more important to focus on the now, on the life you're currently living, than to worry about what might happen in the afterlife. They're too busy living to worry about it. (This all changes dramatically in the AU where they're half fae, but let us not get into that lol.)

I don't think Ciaran has had any paranormal contact previously. They're pretty thrilled about magic existing because it's something they liked to believe in (in a non religious way). But if they had ever encountered anything like that in their life, they were unaware of it at the time.

what is their favourite food?

Arsenios's favorite food is macarons! It's kinda silly, but he's friends with Barbatos and has been for a while. So Barb invites him over to the castle for tea parties and such. And that's where Arrie first encounters a macaron. He's amazed when he picks one up and it's super light. And forever after that, they were his favorite. Arsenios is a good cook, but he's terrible at baking. So I think he sees them as really special in that sense, too.

Ciaran's favorite food is a roast beef and provolone sandwich on sourdough bread. Specifically bread baked by their older sister. Even better if there's also pepperoncinis on it. Their sister Fiadh owns her own bakery and she's been baking since they were little kids. She's been making sandwiches for Ciaran for so many years, it's like a comfort food for them now.

Woo well this has gotten long! Thank you so much for asking! I'm having so much fun answering these!

MC & OC Ask Game

#my two silly guys #if they ever spent any time together it'd be the end for Lucifer lol #Anti Lucifer League would get a major upgrade #sorry Luci I don't know why both my characters have such a problem with you #Ciaran comes around at least #obey me oc #obey me mc #misc oc arsenios #misc mc ciaran #^^ anon #misc answers

[the-era-of-shadow]

Trial of Twilight Trespassers

Written by Ash Rose

Cover by Ash Rose

TW/CW: Swearing, Mild Violence, General Horror

Summary:

It was just another quiet day in the lands of the Twilight Cage, that is, until trespassers started to appear across the lands, all seemingly in cahoots with one another. Despite how divided the nations of Twilight are, they decide to each send out a representative to the Twilight Theater in the Cage's center land, where the trespassers are to be put on trial to decide their fate.

The Twilight Theater appeared like it was brand new, with its spotless marble walls and pristine stained glass windows. But such an appearance was only a facade, for it was certainly older than any of the twelve individuals that stood in it now.

The theater was to be a place of unification, which was terribly uncommon in the lands of the Twilight Cage, for the three nations that were established within its mystic walls have always been at war with one another.

At first it was just the Zoah and the N'rrgal, two nations who never seemed to like each other very much, despite living on the same planet together. The two squabbled and fought just as any other dysfunctional pair would, until a group of Zoah soldiers went haywire and destroyed several N'rrgal towns completely unprompted, causing thousands of deaths.

This event is what many believe to be the first case of the destructive chaos energy that would eventually take hold of the entire planet that came before what is now known as the Twilight Cage, but this rancid energy didn't truly become a pandemic until the Kron arrived in the area.

The Kron were once a race of traveling tradesmen, making deals with all that they passed by on the orbit of the meteorite they lived on. But this life was taken from them when they entered the Twilight Cage, for when they tried to set up trade with the Zoah, they took the Kron as prisoners and made them live in servitude to them.

This was not taken well by the Kron, and some of them began to plan a revolt against the Zoah. These plans were quickly tainted by the chaos energy in the air, and what had started as a simple protest soon broke out into a full on war between the Kron and the Zoah. Soon enough, the N'rrgal entered the war as well, taken over by the urge for destruction and disorder that the chaos energy gave them.

With all three nations at war with one another, the entire planet became a battlefield, nowhere being truly safe from the devastation. This all culminated in an especially volatile battle that occurred one day between the three, and the Zoah, being the most technically advanced nation out of the three, brought a marvelous bomb, said to have the power to wipe out every one of their enemies right then and there.

But rather than just wiping out the Kron and N'rrgal entirely, the bomb ended up shattering the planet into five different pieces of floating land. This brought the attention of the gods themselves to the conflict, and they were not pleased by the mess the chaos energy had made of the three nations. By some miracle, there were quite a few survivors within both the Kron and N'rrgal armies, but those that were left alive were made to face the fate of being eternally trapped with the ones that had tried to kill them, as the gods sealed off the area from the rest of the universe as to prevent the spread of the chaos energy.

Yet, despite this history of egregious conflict, there the representatives of each nation stood, nearly a thousand years later, in unity. For the three of them, together, would decide the fate of the eight trespassers that stood before them.The trespassers, too, seemed to be unified, standing as one against the representatives. The sight sent shivers down the representatives' backs.

Between the two parties, perched above them by his podium, was The Judge. He was not affiliated with any of the three nations, despite living in the Twilight Cage alongside them, his existence was a mystery to the three representatives.

"At least we can be sure he'll judge without bias." The Zoah representative said.

"Hmmph. Well aren't yooouu quiite calmmm forr a Zoahhh..." The N'rrgal representative sneered, causing the Zoah representative to roll his eyes in annoyance.

"You two! Let Judge speak!" The Kron representative demanded of the other two.

"Thank you, Ko." The Judge said, as he prepared to begin the trial, "Now, would one of the eight of you like to select someone to represent the rest?" He then asked, turning to the trespassers.

"Eight?? What kinda fuckin' nerve do you have, trialing a mere infant in the same likes as the rest of us??" One of the trespassers questioned, holding the baby she held in her four arms close.

"Yes, we very much would." Another one of them, a maiden with a masked face, answered, attempting to calm the first one down as she did, "My darling, if you will." She added, turning to the one of them wearing an excessive amount of jewelry.

"Thank you... But I must decline the offer." Such a response caused an uproar all throughout both parties, and even made The Judge glare in confusion, "Having only one of us go up for defense would be going against all that we've worked up to thus far." 

"Ah, I see... My apologies." The masked maiden softly professed.

"No need, dear." 

"Okay, sure, but could ya at least keep my literal BABY out of this?" The four-armed one spoke up again.

"Says the one who was roaming these very halls with only that baby as company a few short hours ago..." The Judge remarked, "But regardless, I'll humor your request. N'irrah, bring this child a nanny."

N'irrah, the N'rrgal representative, did as she was told, summoning one of her own to take the infant.

"And what of the elementary schooler over there?" The Zoah representative pointed out.

"I'm fighting alongside my friends and family as I always have!! Yayaya!!" The child responded. The representatives noticed that this one, too, was wearing a mask.

"That one has a body count, she's all good to stay here." A rather snarky sounding hooded one explained.

"Oh really? Usually one would wait til someone is eighteen before letting them take part in bloodshed, no?" The Zoah representative inquired sarcastically.

"Eighteen? Seems like not even you or I are qualified for what we do in this one's eyes..." Another hooded one remarked, this one being much more soft-spoken.

"Cease your useless bickering immediately!" The Judge demanded, angrily slamming down his gavel to break up the talking, "Now... Representatives of the Twilight Cage, care to introduce yourselves?" He then requested after a few moments of silence went by.

"N'irrahhh, currrrrent motherrrr offff thhhe N'rrgallll." 

"Zen, one of the best Zoah officers around." 

"Ko, Kron Shop Boy!" 

"Thank you, dear representatives. Now, would the trespassers care to introduce themselves as well?" The Judge added.

"And why should we do that, exactly?" The elderly one finally spoke, being the last of the group to speak in the theater for the first time.

"She's got a point! You're gonna just kick us out anyway! What's the point of introducing ourselves if you'll only know us for tonight??" The four-armed one agreed.

"You have yet to earn the honor of knowing each of us by name, so instead, you shall know us collectively by our people's name, whom we all proudly represent here on this night." The one in jewelry said with absolute command, "You may refer to us as The Black Arms."

"Hmph, what a bunch of egotistical-" Zen started to scoff, but was interrupted by The Judge.

"If that's the way you wish to play your hand, then there is nothing I can do about it. Now..." The Judge authoritatively slammed down his gavel, "LET THE TRIAL-"

"Hooollld on nowww..." N'irrah protested.

"What is it now?" The Judge asked, becoming annoyed by all the delays.

"Therrre muuust beee sooommethiiing wee caaan calll youu alll indiviiiduallly..." N'irrah continued, directing her comment towards the Black Arms.

"Ooh! Nicknames! You use nicknames!!" Ko suggested cheerfully.

"Oh alright, I do not see why not..." The one in jewelry conceded, "Give us a moment to discuss." 

"Fine. But after that, no more delays! Some of us need enough time out of the night to sleep!" The Judge ordered, to which everyone agreed.

The seven representatives of the Black Arms huddled together to seemingly talk to one another, but the Twilight Cage representatives did not hear a single word from them. Regardless, after a few minutes passed, the Black Arms turned back to face the others in the theater, having decided on titles for each of them that the Twilight Cage natives would call them, at the very least until the end of this trial, depending on how it plays out.

The one in jewelry and the masked maiden were to be referred to as "King" and "Queen"

The two in the hoods were to be "The Bishops", the loud-mouthed one being Right Bishop, and the soft-spoken one being Left Bishop.

The four-armed one and the masked child were to be "The Knights", the child being Right Knight, and the four-armed one being Left Knight.

Lastly, the elderly one was the Rook.

"Are we all settled now?" Zen asked.

"Yes. Shall we begin?" King responded.

"Finally!!" The Judge cheered, slamming down his gavel once again, "LET THE TRIAL BEGIN!!"

To start off the trial, The Judge ordered that the participants be all on the same page with one another, so that there is no confusion when it comes time to make a decision. In order to reach this goal, it was agreed upon that each of the Twilight Cage representatives would give a speech, a testimonial to their experiences that day, including and especially those experiences which involved any interaction with the trespassers.

Zen volunteered to go first, finding himself unable to keep quiet about the annoyance he felt from the continued presence of the two trespassers who entered the domain of the Zoah. Right Bishop and Right Knight were the two that he had encountered, he said, two obnoxious siblings who immediately demanded fealty to them!

"Hmph. In your attempts to be brief and blunt, you've seemed to miss a few details there." Right Bishop scoffed.

"I was trying to not waste any more of The Judge's time here, but if the full story is what you want, the full story is what you're gonna get!" Zen responded fiercely, quite ironically so considering his name.

A few moments of silence passed by as Zen stared off, noticing Right Bishop's smirk, and felt a flare of rage surge in him. He managed to take control of his own anger, however, and after giving a hefty sigh, he cleared his throat and began the extended form of his testimony.

It was certainly on the calmer end of days for the Zoah before the trespassers arrived, with there being no sign of either N'rrgal nor Kron planning to attack them. There was only their bright central star lighting up the sky, and the well polished gates that surrounded their land. On days like these, it was Zen's duty, as well as the duty of a dozen more Zoah officers, to keep watch at the front of these gates, just in case there was some sort of unpleasant surprise, and an unpleasant surprise is exactly what Zen was fated to be met with on this calm day.

Two figures showed up at the gates of the Zoah's territory some time in the afternoon, immediately causing an uproar as they picked fights with the other, less well-tempered, guards. Overhearing the commotion, Zen came down from his post and approached his peers.

"Men! What's all this ruckus for??" He questioned.

"Zen, sir! These two minors have trespassed onto the premises and are trying to threaten us!" One of the other guards answered as the rest managed a hold on the two strangers.

"They seem to be combative, but we can't understand them!" Another added.

Zen took a good, long look at the two. The older one of the two wore a hood over his head, and the younger one wore a mask, covering most of her face save for her eyes and mouth. Despite this, Zen could very much tell that the two appeared to be Bloomians, from the jagged horns on their heads, down to the illusion of a complete lack of limbs below the hips, due to their long, dress-like garments and the way they floated just a few inches off of the ground. But even if every bit of them was covered, there was one thing that they couldn't hide.

"Well isn't this an odd sight? You two seem to be from PetalBloom, no? And here I had thought that planet was the most peaceful in the entire galaxy!" Zen asked the two, speaking in PetalBloom's global language, Bloosiæne. He could tell that his co-workers were taken aback by his knowledge, which made Zen quite prideful.

"Was the most peaceful, "friend"," The older one of the two corrected, giving Zen a malicious smirk.

"Until we happened, that is!" The younger one added, mischievously chuckling as she did.

Zen stood there for a moment, seemingly in shock, but then he quite suddenly burst out into laughter, which confused his peers, and angered the two trespassers.

"Do you believe this to be some sort of joke??" The older one growled.

"Well, you are telling me that you two little brats singlehandedly warped the status and standing of an entire planet, so yes. I do believe this to be a joke," Zen responded, it being his turn now to give his opponent in this battle of words a smirk.

"It wasn't just us two, mister, nonono!" The younger one retorted, shaking her head vigorously, "It was our other friends, too! They're on the other bits of land in this place at the moment! Not to mention all the people we got to rally behind us! Because of all of us, PetalBloom is a complete wasteland now!! Yayaya!" 

"And since our homeland is in ruins, we're looking for a place to stay, you see," The older one interjected.

"There's some free land to the north, but you will not be settling here. Beyond these gates is the nation of the Zoah, a land of warlords. One unauthorized step beyond here, and you two will be very brutally killed," Zen dictated to them.

"Warlords, eh?" The older one inquired, giving a chuckle.

"I'm sure the others will love to hear that!! We really need people like you around, you know!!" The young one speculated.

"What if I don't want to join you, whatever it is that's seemingly become of the people of PetalBloom? What if none of us do?" Zen questioned, still not taking the two seriously.

"Then perish." The older one answered simply, his eyes seeming to glow in contrast to the dark shadow made over his face by his hood.

"I'd like to see you try, kid." Zen scoffed, doing his best impersonation of his opponent's expression. It looked as if the older trespasser was about to strike, but at the last second he closed his eyes, and turned his back from Zen. "Backing out of a deal, are you?" 

"We never had a "deal" of any sort. Be assured, I would have loved to kill you here and now, "friend", but I'm afraid I must wait until we're certain you have chosen to resist us until I can cut that smug grin from your mouth and wear it as a necklace, while feasting on the rest of your remains, of course." The older one replied, finally managing to get through Zen's enormous ego, "But for now, my dear sister and I shall enjoy seeing that grin be erased by not a blade, but by sheer, unadulterated fear...." He added, cupping his three-fingered hand to the side of Zen's face, which had now contorted into an expression of disgust and uncertainty. Deep in his mind, Zen scoffed at himself. Him? Scared of some fucking teenager?? What the hell for??? He's a Zoah, for fuck's sake! And yet, someway, somehow, Zen could swear that this teenager had something terrifying behind him. In his eyes, in contrast with his sharp golden sclera, the irises within were dark, not even just dark, his irises were pitch black, like an abyss, and as Zen starred into that abyss, the abyss starred back with force of thousands, perhaps even millions. It also stared back in a singularity, the gaze of some sort of higher power looking down upon him, deciding whether or not this teen, who it's in complete control of, shall be permitted to end his life or not. Not just that, but as he looked in the abyss, Zen could swear he could hear the echoing of voices, voices that were not his own, nor did they belong to either of the trespassers. They beckoned him closer, they beckoned him to keep staring, to keep looking in this teen boy's eyes, to relinquish everything he once knew, and to join them in complete chaos. It was a power that was unknown to Zen, and yet, it was an enchantment that felt irresistible, making him feel like he wanted to crawl inside the boy's iris to become absorbed by that beautiful pitch black abyss...

"Zen?" The Judge called out, "You were... saying?" 

"... Huh?" Zen absent-mindedly muttered, his eyes looking glassy.

"Zen, your testimony." The Judge commanded, "What happened next?" 

"... Oh. After that... Uh... Right Bishop let go of me... and he and Right Knight took off..." Zen answered bluntly. Just as he finished talking, a trail of blood started to drip from his nose.

"Mister Zen! You okay?!" Ko asked, worried.

Zen failed to reply, seeming to be stuck in a trance, staring off towards the group of trespassers.

"Zen, you are dismissed from the court," The Judge demanded. Just then, two of Zen's co-workers walked into the theater halls and carried their top officer away, all while not a single sound was made.

"M...Mister Zen be okay?" Ko asked again.

"Oh I'm sure he'll feel swell in just a short while...!" Left Bishop answered cheerfully.

"Yooouuu... Yoou knoow what iss haaaaaappennning, straange hooded chiild..?" N'irrah questioned cautiously.

"Sure do, ma'am. It's quite a fascinating process, really," They responded calmly. 

"N'irrah, would you like to give your testimony now, since Zen could not... complete... his?" The Judge offered.

"IIIIIIIIII wooould be hoooonered tooo.." She responded.

It was a quiet nothing of a day in the N'rrgal land, the only sounds to be heard being the slithering of the slug-like beings that lived within, and the slow bubbling of the viscous slime lakes. But amongst the silence, there was the form of a child, who couldn't be any older than fifteen years of age. The form floated inches above the slimey grounds as they traversed the area, seeming fascinated by every little detail. Eventually, the mother of the N'rrgal, Miss N'irrah herself, caught sight of the child, and in being both rather curious and quite suspicious, she made the decision to approach the child.

"Aaare yoou loossssst, yoooouunng onnne?" She questioned, as she was originally rather concerned about the lone child, who seemed to be without an adult by their side.

"I don't believe I am, no." The child replied calmly.

"Isss that soooo? Dooo yooou have sooome sooort of puuuurpossse beeeeing heeeereee?" N'irrah questioned further, the seeds of doubt beginning to be sewn into her mind.

"I do, actually! Are you a figurehead of this area?" The child beamed in excitement. In that instant, something vital finally occurred to N'irrah.

"I aaam... Buut... Yooouuu... Yooouu're froom thaaat Whiiittee Moooon abooove, aaaren't yooouu...?" She guessed. At first the child seemed dumbfounded, confused as to what N'irrah meant, but then they looked up to the skies above and had a revelation.

"You mean PetalBloom, correct?" They asked, to which N'irrah nodded, "What an odd way of referring to our homeland... "White Moon"... I must say, I don't think I'm a fan of that name, to be honest, even if we have abandoned it." 

"Cooould yooou slooow doown yoooour woooordsss...? IIII fiiind myyyseeelf beeecommming leeft beeehiiind..." N'irrah requested.

"Oh of course! My apologies for confusing you, miss!" The child responded politely... almost too politely.

From there, the child, that being Left Bishop, told N'irrah a very similar story as to the one that Right Bishop and Right Knight told Zen, though, telling it much more kindly than those two seemed to. They too spoke of the abandonment and apparent destruction of PetalBloom, though a detail they seemed to add on that Right Bishop and Right Knight did not is the supposed fate of the goddess Moonshine. To put it bluntly, and put it bluntly, Left Bishop sure did, Moonshine was dead.

"Dead? In what sense?" The Judge questioned, seeming to have a small shiver go through him as he did.

"In the dead sense, your honor." Left Bishop answered, just as calm as they always had been. It was unnerving at this point. Not exactly in the way that their calmness seemed uncanny, though uncanny it certainly did feel, but the words themselves were unnerving.

It wasn't at all uncommon for a Bloomian's behavior to come off as uncanny or unnatural, that's just how they are. Seemingly unable to fully grasp the norms of most societies, and thus going in too hard with the advice that their beloved matron Moonshine gives them. But that's just the thing, the Bloomians love Moonshine, don't they? They're unending in their loyalty to her, so why is this Bloomian so calm about the thought of her apparent demise?

Maybe they aren't a Bloomian, at least, not anymore. Just before this trial had began, Left Bishop and the others had introduced themselves as The Black Arms. That was a name that none of the other four, now three, in the Twilight Theater had ever heard before. Where did it come from? Some sudden uprising within PetalBloom, like they said? Or some other race of aliens entirely that are just masquerading around as Bloomians? If it was the latter, why act so much like real Bloomians? Why lie in the first place? It was no secret that the people of the Twilight Cage weren't on the best terms with the pantheon above, why would they fold to the will of the people of Madam Moonshine's beloved PetalBloom, of all people?

"Why you all so quiet?" Ko suddenly asked, breaking the stretch of silence that had prolonged throughout the past few minutes.

"IIII aaam jussst waiiitiiing ooon aaa reeesssssponsssse frooom Thhhhhe Juuuuudge..." N'irrah bellowed, looking over to The Judge with impatience in her eyes.

"R-Right, my apologies," The Judge replied, clearing his throat, "Did I interrupt you, N'irrah?" He then asked.

"Nooope... III've saaaid aaaallll theeeree iiiisss tooo beee saaaaid..." N'irrah answered.

"I see then. I suppose it would be Ko's turn... but-" The Judge said hesitantly, being cut off by Ko himself.

"You say Ko's name, Judge?" 

"Ko doesn't know Bloosiæne." The Judge revealed.

"It's true... It seemed that he didn't understand a word I said to him when we had met earlier today..." Rook testified, sounding concerned.

"The Kron barely even know Lunarian, the language of the Cage. They're very stubborn in preserving the culture of their homeland." The Judge added.

"Rook, you should be the one to testify then, I believe." Left Bishop proposed, but The Judge shot the idea down.

"Ko surely has enough info of the Twilight Cage tongue that he can speak for himself, thank you very much!" He protested, seeming offended on Ko's behalf.

"Myyy... how defffffenssssive~..." N'irrah teased, "It'ssss assss iffff yooooouuu're oonee oooooffff theeeeiir owwwwnnn..." She continued, bringing back the mystery of The Judge's origins into play.

"Pardon me?! You act as if such things as empathy and sympathy need not apply!" The Judge argued vigilantly.

"In a place like this? My, they might as well not, huh?"

Everyone else in the Twilight Theater turned their heads at the sound of the familiar voice, looking upon the body of the currently heavily bloodied Zen. Those of the Twilight Cage looked very concerned and even horrified by the sight, but those of the Black Arms simply looked on in amusement.

"Welcome back, Zen. Are you feeling well?" Left Bishop asked kindly.

"Well? I'm feeling far better than just well, my friend! I feel like I've been reborn!" Zen replied in utter ecstasy as he flailed about a dagger soaked in bright cyan fluids.

"Oh, how excellent!! And it would seem that you've had some fun while you were away from the trial, huh?" Left Bishop inquired further, as if they and Zen were close friends.

"Precisely! I've taken lives in combat before, but I've never had an up close and personal experience like this before~!" Zen answered, finishing off with an unhinged cackle.

"Oh my! Though, you did ask if they wished to join in on your fun first before you discarded them, right?" Rook asked, inserting herself into the discussion, which immediately snapped Zen out of his trance of excitement.

"I hadn't thought of that! They just said they weren't fond of my behavior and the next thing I knew my dagger was in their chest! Should I have said something to them first?" He replied apologetically.

"It's alright! You are new at this, after all-" Left Bishop began to say in consolation, before being interrupted by The Judge.

"Enough of this degeneracy!! These actions of yours will not go without judgment!!" He suddenly bellowed in disgust.

"Is that so? Say, why is it that you judge us so? What truly makes you "The Judge"?" Zen questioned, smirking menacingly as he slowly approached closer towards The Judge. Within Zen's eyes, one could see the very horror that he spoke of in his last moments of sanity. The sight sent a shiver down The Judge's spine, but despite that, he stayed vigilant, a reaction he'd surely pay dearly for having, "Is it that you're a runaway from one of the three nations of Twilight, and you are using that title to hide your identity...? No... that can't be it..." Zen began to speculate as he came ever closer towards The Judge, tossing about his blood soaked blade without a care as he did, "Oh! Is it simply that you worked for that title of yours, and that there are others like you that you're hiding from us...? Hmm... no, that wouldn't add up now, would it?" As those words left Zen's mouth, The Judge realized that he had gotten so close to him that Zen's dagger was caressing the edge of The Judge's neck. The Judge tried his best to avoid looking at the deranged former Zoah officer in his eyes, but with his free hand Zen took hold of The Judge's face and forced their eyes to meet, "Or is it simply that the gods are terrible at naming their little pawns..?"

The Judge was speechless, Zen was completely and totally correct in his statement, and that was what scared him. How did he get such information? Perhaps Zen was right, that there was something unknown to mortals within the eyes of those who call themselves "The Black Arms"... The Judge knew he was. He saw it, heard it too, in Zen's voice as he spoke that final sentence which cut so deep. Though it may be from his mouth which the words exit, their origin is not from Zen's mind, or more, what's left of Zen's mind. Where those words, and the knowledge they carried, came from, truly, was none other than....

As the shadowy form that made up The Judge's body came into contact with Zen's dagger, it became undone bit by bit, until all that was left was the clothes he once adorned and a puff of quickly dissipating black smoke. Watching from afar, the King's eyes glowed with fury, and yet, there was a glimmer of pleasure as The Judge was defeated. But just as Zen looked behind him, the King's eyes quickly became dim, and they slumped into the side of Left Knight, who was beside him.

"Uhm?? H-Hey, ya good man??!" Left Knight asked, quickly becoming nervous. Before the King even had a chance to answer, the sound of a baby's wails echoed throughout the Twilight Theater. Left Knight immediately shot up in concern, and saw that N'irrah was attempting to take the baby from the hands of the assistant N'rrgal she had handed the child over to. The Queen quickly grabbed onto the King as Left Knight rushed to the situation, enraged, "What the hell do ya think you're doin' with my kid, lady??" She scowled, scooping the infant up in her four arms.

"Yooouuu arrree NOT aaa fiiit moooothhherrr!" N'irrah argued, attempting to grab the baby, but Left Knight pulled away and did not allow her to do so.

"Bullshit! I'm as fit as a mother as I believe myself to be, dammit!! This kid's not gonna get abandoned again as long as I'm the one caring for him, and that's final!" She insisted, escaping from N'irrah's reach before the conflict could go any further.

The Queen, Rook and Zen were all attending to the King when Left Knight returned to their area of the Theater.

"Is he okay??" She asked, trying to reach them as quickly as she could, keeping the child in her arms in mind. 

"I... I'm..." The King attempted to respond for themself, but quickly lost the energy to do so.

"He's over exerted themself to a quite harmful extent..." Rook explained, "We should return to the Black River and rest..." 

"E-excuse me...!" Ko suddenly yelled out, trying to get the attention of the Black Arms.

"Oh, hello there, Ko!" Rook responded with a smile as soft as the one she had when she first met him, "Don't you think even for a moment that we forgot about you!" She said, gesturing with her hands to help explain what she was saying.

"Is... Is Mister Zen okay?" Ko asked, sounding genuinely worried.

"...I'm fine. Are you okay?" Zen responded, gently grasping Ko's large, angular hands.

"Zen no hurt Ko... right?" 

"Nope."

"Then... Then Ko is okay." Zen was at first confused as to why he suddenly felt inclined to be loving towards Ko, considering he is a Zoah, and Ko is a Kron, but it then occurred to him that he wasn't quite right. Zen didn't feel quite like a Zoah anymore, and perhaps, depending on how things play out, Ko could possibly one day not exactly be a Kron anymore. The destructive chaos of the Twilight Cage that the two were raised with had begun to dissipate, and the hole it created in them was quickly filled with a new kind of chaos... one that is... unifying.

"Zen, we're gonna start heading to the river." Left Bishop said.

"Of course." Zen responded with glee, but as he began to follow behind the Black Arms leaders, he felt a tug on his suit.

"Ko come too?" Ko asked, looking up at Zen with pleading eyes.

"Why not? Just follow me, little buddy." Zen replied, giving the young Kron a friendly pat on the head.

After the gods created the barrier around what was left of the planet that came before the Twilight Cage, which they used to call Luna Labyrinth, chaos energy was spread from beyond the barrier's walls, reverberating from the explosion the Zoah of old had made. That chaos energy took hold of the nearby PetalBloom without hesitation, but rather than pitting the Bloomians against one another, the chaos energy ate at their minds like a degenerative disease. This was quickly noticed by Madam Moonshine, who quickly swept in and took in the Bloomians as her loyal followers, hoping to repair the damage done by the chaos energy. She was rather successful over the thousand years that had gone by since then, but her attempts to conceal chaos energy as a whole had backfired on her, and thus the creation she made took her throne, and lead the Bloomians down a path of pure entropy. This was a story that Zen and Ko were told by the King, who had now decided to reintroduce himself to the two as Black Doom, as they and the other Black Arms leaders traveled to the Black River - a scrap of the now abandoned PetalBloom that the Black Arms had taken with them on their journey for a new home.

On their journey, the ten of them passed through the part of Twilight Cage the Black Arms leaders had thought of calling their new home. There was no civilization occupying it, but that's not to say that it was empty, for in these lands lived the non-sentient Voxai, a species of bird-like creatures that preferred to congregate together within their own bit of land, rather than venturing out to the already occupied lands beyond.

"They remind me of the Petal-scale Dragons back on PetalBloom..." The Queen, Black Widow, spoke in observation.

"I still can't believe we managed to round up as many as we did during the revolution! Not to mention gettin' them set up in the whole mind link thing of ours...!" Left Knight, otherwise known as Sendrir Rojo, added.

"And I'm surprised that you've turned out to be such a good mother! Especially since you're an only child..." Widow remarked.

"What? Ya saying you didn't believe in me??" Sendrir blurted out, pretending to be offended, "But ya know, I probably wouldn't be as good as I am at it if it weren't for you, Death and Ms Lillian, if I'm honest." She then continued, speaking more sincerely this time.

"Me? I mean, sure, I have experience being a sibling I guess, but I'm the younger sibling! Besides, I haven't seen my brother since I was barely a preteen..." Widow responded, causing Doom's attention to be peaked.

"You... You have a brother, and I'm... just finding out about it..?" He questioned, confused.

"... Had, I guess." Widow admitted, "It's funny... he was always the nicest out of my family... he always loved my crafts, and he listened to me when I needed a shoulder to cry on and Vladdie or Sen weren't around... he even insisted on calling me his sister even after our parents thoroughly convinced me I couldn't be a girl..." 

"What happened to him?" Doom asked. 

"Didn't he go off on some crazy passion project that was funded by his workplace or whatever?" Sendrir inquired.

"Technically... He told me before he left though that he was going to find Moonshine himself and ask her stuff... he said he'd be sure to ask her why I was created the way I was while he was gone... And yet, he never came back..." Widow explained, sounding sullen. 

"Yeah... Totally sucks that he went out like that, I for one would've loved to have ol' Kimera in the Black Arms..." Sendrir pouted, also seeming down. 

"Perhaps... he is still out there, somewhere?" Doom suddenly suggested, causing the two ladies to look to him, "I never saw someone who would fit that sort of description when I still lived in the Pantheon's Plane... Maybe he is still searching..." 

"But wouldn't we have run into him by now?" Sendrir questioned, challenging such an idea.

"Maybe... maybe not..." Doom replied, "Perhaps one day we will search the entire universe, spreading chaos as we go, and then, only then, will we reunite with this "Kimera" you speak of..." As Doom continued to speak, he noticed that he could not move any further. Simply put, they were stuck. 

Widow began to reach down, seemingly to grab something, but before she could, Doom pulled away from where he was stuck with great force, leaving behind a torn piece of fabric from his robe. Widow sighed and continued to reach for it, but then was intercepted once more as a particularly opportunistic little voxai swept under the bit of fabric and proceeded to fly away into the skies beyond with it on it's back.

"Hmph. What a warm welcome..." Doom remarked jokingly, which did at least illicit a chuckle from Widow.

As the Black Arms leaders and their two new companions arrived to the land of the Black River, they were almost immediately approached by a young lady who seemed to be in some sort of distress.

"Black Doom, sir, our lands can't seem to get through the barrier!" She said, to which Doom scoffed and offered a hand at the land's helm. But try as he might, they quickly realized that the young lady was correct, and that despite Doom's more than mortal abilities, he could not change that fact.

It came to a point in which he decided to regroup the other leaders and the new recruits back together to hold a counsel.

"It would seem that this place is, unfortunately, not suitable for becoming our permanent residence... This means that we must travel further, possibly much further, in search for a place that is truly worthy... With this in mind, what is your approach?" Doom explained to them, leaving it up to them to plan further.

"Do you think we need any more food?" Widow asked.

"I mean, I think we have enough as is... but hey! I'm willing to go out and get more!" Sendrir responded to Widow's question, proudly raising up a cleaver grasped one of her hands, "As long as one of you watch the baby, okay?" 

"I am willing to do such for you, Sendrir...!" Ms Lillian, the one once known as Rook, offered, to which Sendrir accepted.

"I believe Tsunami and I have done all that we can on that broken planet. If we are not to stay there then there is no use lingering within for longer than that is needed." Black Death, who was once the Right Bishop, spoke on behalf of himself and his sister, formerly known as the Right Knight.

"In that case, will you two help me with getting our new friends adjusted to their new environment?" Vladmira, once the Left Bishop, responded with acute sass in their voice, "That is, if they're even willing to stick with us still..."

"I absolutely will, for all intents and purposes, my life as a Zoah officer is over... I am a Black Arms now, truly and fully, that is what I believe to be the truth. As for Ko..." Zen said, pausing to turn to Ko, switching from speaking in Bloosiæne to Lunarian, "Ko, the Black Arms cannot stay here, they're going to leave here and explore space beyond the little bit that we know. I am going with them, but what do you wish to do?" 

"Ko... Ko want to go home," Ko answered after a few moments of consideration. Zen frowned as he registered the response, but before he could say anything, Ko spoke again, "Ko want to go to Kron home. To Kron's original home, where Kron come from," He clarified, "Ko want to go to Kron original home and make it home for Ko, and home for Ko's friends!" 

Zen smiled, no longer afflicted with his misunderstanding of Ko's words. "I'm sure they can do that for ya, buddy," Zen turned back towards Vladmira, "Right?"

"We'll do our best to make it happen!" 

Epilouge:

Up above the action, the gods watched it all from their plane, the "Pantheon's Plane", they called it, and today the sights that are seen bring distress to the Pantheon's Plane.

For just as the silence of waiting was beginning to overstay it's welcome, the small and anxious Light Gaia dashed through the halls of clouds that lead into the office of the sun god, Solaris.

"S-sir! I have bad news!! Like, really REALLY bad-!!" Light Gaia announced nervously.

"What now...?" Solaris groaned, still reeling from the recent passing of his wife Moonshine.

"Th-the Lord of Chaos and his army of Bloomians have escaped from the Twilight Cage!" 

"WHAT?!" Solaris shouted in disbelief, shooting up from his chair, which was one part throne, and one part office chair, "Is the uncorrupted Bloomian still here?!" 

"K-Kimera Chanté? Yes sir h-he is!" 

"He's a scientist, right?!" Solaris asked further, to which Light Gaia confirmed that that was indeed the case, "Give him this!" He commanded as he grabbed a small booklet from his desk.

"B-But sir... Aren't you worried he'll object to this? I imagine he'd not want to cause harm to his kin, even if they are corrupted by chaos energy..." Light Gaia questioned.

"Lie to him if you must! Don't you understand that the universe as a whole is at stake?! Who knows how powerful they are!" Solaris yelled, making his point clear to Light Gaia, who reluctantly agreed to the plan.

"A-And what will y-y-you be doing, sir??" 

"I am going to send out a warning to Babylon." Solaris answered quickly as he prepared to take off.

Light Gaia looked down at the booklet Solaris gave him, it appeared to be a collection of roughly made instructions. Clearly a Plan B created when the Lord of Chaos had just broken out from the plane. What caught his eye was the name. He understood what it most likely meant, he knew that it's target was the Black Arms, but the name seemed so... definite. So clear cut in its vagueness.

"Project: THE END"

#the era of shadow #the era of shadow: origins #teos #sonic au #sonic fanfiction #black arms #sonic chronicles #< yeah that works ig #sonic oc #twilight cage tag #undescribed #mod ash

[lor-starcutter]

Do you remember the old days in Halcandra?

I'd like to know some stories.

>Depends on what you mean by old days. The old days as in when I was in service? Or even older than that? If it’s the latter, I don’t really have much to talk about since, y’know, I didn’t exist yet.

>I do have a few stories from my life in the past, though! Most are too long and personal to be worth sharing here, but there was the time I called a certain ridiculously powerful government official a bitch when he spoke of me in the third person as if I was an object. That didn’t go over well at all, but it was immensely satisfying in the moment! Looking back, it’s hard to reasonably say it was worth it given what I know now. But, I do have the bragging rights of being someone who directly insulted him and survived!

>That doesn’t really answer your question, though. It’s difficult to give a general description of how things were, as my perspective was very different from both the average person and those in positions of power, even before considering biases and the influence of hindsight. Life for a Starcutter was very different from life for everyone else, as you can probably imagine. Lots of travel to nowhere and back, always working on some project or another, being ordered around by the same people who blame you for their mistakes, finding increasingly complex ways to hide the extent of what we know that we shouldn’t and what we’re saying to each other in secret… It wasn’t something we really talked about or addressed most of the time. At least as far as I could tell. The others left me out of the loop most of the time. Said I was just a beacon for trouble. Imagine that! I mean, ok, they weren’t entirely wrong, but maybe things would’ve been a little bit easier if they’d simply not left me out of the hidden top secret encrypted classified Starcutter groupchats…

>On a tangentially related sidenote, you have no idea what it feels like to apparently be a pseudo-religious figure in some circles. I knew of rumors made about me due to small misunderstandings of certain situations fairly early on, and the others did too and weren’t exactly thrilled. I just assumed they’d die out eventually, either due to being directly debunked or just no longer having any kind of relevance. Imagine my surprise waking up thousands of years later and finding that people not only still know who I am despite my generations-long stint of irrelevance, but also still think I’m some kind of holy or celestial or godlike entity, if not more than they did in the past! Even Magolor had expectations of me along the lines of ‘ancient and wise, articulate but not overly proud, purely logical and efficient”. I wasn’t any more special than the others in all respects I had any control over, but the way history was written doesn’t reflect that very well. It’s really hard to get people to understand that in my time, and to most of those around me, I was basically the Starcutter equivalent of just some guy, or rather, “that guy”. Recognized by most but not in the celebrity way so much as “oh great, Lor’s up to shenanigans and tomfoolery again” at the slightest hint of me wanting to have a good time.

#asks #lor speaks #lor thoughts #>The old days overall weren’t great and I don’t miss them outside wondering what happened to all the others of my kind…

[thelandswemadeofpaper]

The 'Mystical Vibe'

This kinda happens when its just...described in a unnatural and cryptid way? And its more than just 'people with power', the...aura? existence? thing? is taken as something eldritch-like and gives the impression of something-creepy-and- untouchable, similar to old tales of fair folk and Lovecraft, or legendary-holy-and-ancient-as -your-grandma, like Silmarillion and Fate, not like Lord Zeno straight up blowing universes up to show that he-is-OP, but more subtle and maybe philosophical?

A good example is The Road Goes Ever On by Chauntlucet:

On other worlds, where they were remembered -- even on this world, in the regions beyond the sea and Grinding Ice, where the Powers’ might were not so focused, were the protection the Elder King placed over the Children of this realm was as naught -- none would venture out on this night. Here there were signs written on the air itself, a singing silence, a taste of wild herbs and distant mountainsides stirring in the cold. A sense of Magic that was as much a warning as the ringing of the Hunt’s horns. This was a night for the Oromandi, for the Tavari and the Orrosi. A night for those born before the world and older than its oldest. A night for those who were not of the world, but laughed at it much, and saw it as for the most part a play and a game for their own amusement.

And Young Wizards by Diane Duane, Kubo and the Strings.

And one of my favorites: Jack and the Cuckoo-Clock Heart

In this one, the guy as born with an weak heart, so his mother switch it with an clock of all things - and no one bats an eyelash at that - its a beautiful romantic tragedy.

Also another thing I call...

World Shock

...is pretty much what the it sounds like:

Yet it was the sudden appearance of what would eventually be called Hueco Mundo that changed everything.

It was a world unlike anything the Soul King had ever seen in his youth, and it had appeared just as suddenly. A world of its own that inherently switched the Self and the World while keeping the Soul King's set boundary at the same standard. As such, it was integrated with the natural order of things as if it had always been there.

The world Hueco Mundo formed radiated with an innate aura of solitude and desolation, a muffled feeling of emptiness derived from a bitter sentiment of loss permeating endlessly.

To the Soul King's surprise, he could not understand a single thing about Hueco Mundo. His very existence which was tied into the fabrics of reality unable to link itself with the rules and standards that comprised it. Perturbed as he had been on the matter then, it didn't matter as much as the fact that like moths to a flame, the Hollows formed from the Human World were drawn to it.

Practically all Hollows that had once inhabited the earth vanished in a single moment as they migrated towards a single destination and inadvertently escaped annihilation; the world they now lived in allowing them to visit and torment the Human world at a whim.

No one knew Hueco Mundo's history and only the Soul King could barely understand it after a millennium of interaction, but that wasn't the point.

Vasto of White has a lot of both.

Shirou turned his attention to the wall of flame surrounding him and stretched out his hands into the fire. Immediately, tongues of flame crawled up his arms, intent on burning him to ashes.

"The first fire gave warmth to the world. A remnant flame that did not burn for the annihilation of all, but for the heat of new life," Shirou spoke softly, watching the flames dance around him.

"You are Ryujin Jakka. A sacred sword of flame not meant to be used for the mundane."

Shirou tapped his chest, willing away the natural spiritual energy that protected his body. The sheer heat around him swiftly engulfed him in an infernal scorching wave.

No fear was reflected in his eyes.

No uncertainty.

He was steel in its truest form, unmarred, and untouched.

If not for the fact that he was a hollow, he would have been more akin with a Zanpakuto spirit.

"Can you not feel it for yourself? You are a flame meant to incinerate evil," Shirou pushed away the hollow facets of his soul and laid bare the presence of his inner world of steel and fire, the truest aspect of who he was.

"I am steel," he said. Strong. Hard.

A weapon neither evil nor good, simply meant to be wielded by a sense of purpose.

"Your fires will not melt me, will not harm me, for you as the will of a sword can already comprehend why," Shirou stared vacantly at the flames surrounding him. "I am not evil."

I really want to see more of the second in Star Wars: Arda Unleashed by Lord Exar Kun

#Vasto of White #tv tropes #Silmarillion #mystical #writing #fair folk #old tales vibes #Lovecraft #cthullhu #mystical vibe #edward scissorhands #jack and the cuckoo clock heart #jonathan strange and mr norrell #bleach

[mushroommanchanterelle]

OC Questionnaire #3

Thank you very much @elizaellwrites for tagging me! Sorry it took me so long ^u^ Here's answers from my favorite character from each project I'm working on. Ruth Pothec and Magnus Experah from Fault Lines, and Kage Coronoctis from Nocturn, and Saffron Bechamel from Funny Chef Game.

Question 1: Have you had your heart broken? Ruth: "Of course I have. That's just part of the mortal experience isn't it? Loving, then getting hurt? Makes us stronger or something." Magnus: "Not by a person, but yes. I've been crushed under the overwhelming weight of illness and personal responsibility. I've never dated before if that's what you're asking. It's of no interest to me. Leave it to Pothec and Theodorre." Kage: "I don't have a heart anymore! It's made of rock now I think? Pretty hard to bust open. I USED to have one, but I think my brother'll get mad at me again if I start talking too much." Saffron: "Yeah, but I was a kid, they were a kid... Teenage stuff. First love is always so...sweet I think is the word. I was in college. First year. I mean, I dated in high school too, but you don't... you don't really have full understanding of your feelings when you're that young...oh to be young and dumb and in love again..." Question 2: What is your biggest regret?

Ruth: "Not staying by my sister's side. When she...when...it was... She was alone. She was alone in a hospital on the other side of the world. I wasn't there for her. I couldn't bring her back. If I could just...turn back time... I'd be by her side, holding her hand so she wouldn't be afraid..." Magnus: "I...there aren't many things I actively regret. I think...pushing Theodorre away when he needed me most. Yes... I regret that. Theodorre is kind, and gentle, and sweet, and yet I shoved him to the side to focus on some...spite driven passion project. I hurt him in my arrogance, and worse yet, he forgave me as soon as I came crawling back without so much as a raised tone. He's too good for me. He deserves better." Kage: "Regret? My older brother...the one that's the doctor, not the one that helps me with monarch stuff...he's always saying I'm not capable of regret. I think if I was... I'd regret not spending more time with my sister and mom. I don't think I'd change anything other than reading and drawing and spending our days together..."

Saffron: "Spending thousands of dollars on fancy chef school to learn things I could learn by watching idiots cook on the internet."

Question 3: What is your greatest ambition? Ruth: "To bring my sister back. For real this time. Not just some magic-stuffed corpse. I want the real Hope Pothec." Magnus: "My greatest ambition is to get my name written and immortalized in scholarly history. I want wings of schools, no, entire schools dedicated to me in my honor. I will stop at nothing to achieve this greatness. It isn't a matter of if, but of when."

Kage: "I think I just want to be happy. I want a family. I want friends who love me. My biggest ambition is just to live." Saffron: "I already achieved my greatest ambition. I won the Warden Games and became the Universes Greatest Chef. Now, I run the games with a few other folks who won it. It's a good life."

Question 4: Do you believe in the afterlife? Ruth: "If I want to believe I can drag my sister's soul back into the living world, I have to. I don't know what it looks like, but it has to exist somewhere." Magnus: "That's...not a question I'm equipped to handle. I try not to think about death or the uncertainties that lie beyond. I'm not sure why, but the thought makes my chest pound and my breathing difficult. I'd like to end this conversation immediately." Kage: "I RUN the afterlife. That's what this place is. It's where you go when you die." Saffron: "I'm...not sure. Probably? But everyone I know who's come back from the dead has had different experiences so who knows what that's all about." Question 5: What is your proudest moment? Ruth: "Fixing Theodorre's arm. When we met, his prosthetic was leaking magic, and he was riddled with tumors and skin lesions from the radiation. Advent helped me work on the prosthetic arm and eye, and I healed his...side effects. I wasn't sure medicine was the route I wanted to really spend my life on until that moment." Magnus: "I haven't had one yet. Nothing in my life is worth pride until I've achieved something that puts my name in the history books. Until then, I'm worthless. Anything I do is unremarkable and deserves no recognition until the Board recognizes my talent." Kage: "I made a painting for my two brothers last week. It made them so happy that they sat with me for dinner. I think that's the proudest I've ever been of myself!"

Saffron: "Winning the Warden Games. That stupid game show was the culmination of a life's work at cooking and baking, and I did it all alone and in a wheelchair. Nobody can take that feeling from me, even if they tried. I've never felt that capable in my entire life." Tagging: @omniblades-and-stars, @korblez, @interstellar0range826, @kashi-chan98, @goodluckclove, and anyone else who wants to play c: Your questions for your OCs are

What is the greatest secret you keep from your loved ones?

If you could rewrite one moment in your life, what would it be?

What is your happiest memory?

What is your strongest, most unshakable belief?

What is the dumbest thing that's ever happened to you?

#this looks fun c: #this looks fun #tag game #oc #original character #fault lines #nocturn #silly chef game #ingredients

[yamatonikado]

translators dropped an english translated version of okaeri, alice's final afterword. if you're not familair with the work and it's author, Okaeri Alice, or Welcome Back, Alice, is a seven volume manga written by Oshimi Shuzo. It follows three middle-school students: Yohei, Mitani, and Kei. All three were childhood friends, that grew apart due their own circumstances. The story starts really starts when they enter highschool and Kei moves back into town, only he's a bit different from before...

Okaeri Alice is one of Oshimi's more controversial works. It's one i've blogged about before, albeit briefly, but i have been following and reading each update as it's come out. I would not recommend it for the faint of heart or for people unfamiliar with shuzo's works.

One of the most talked about parts of this work in particular, are the volumes afterwords, where Oshimi talks about Okaeri Alice and how it relates to him as a person and author. They get pretty serious and pretty explicit. They're very emotionally charged afterwords, and this last one was no exception.

i originally wanted to post this in the chapter forums but i decided not to, mainly because the forums are full of all people and this has turned into an essay, not fit for forum posting. i'll post it under a read more. especially because i mainly wrote it for myself lol

i think i get whats going on here. he's upset that he's always viewed/been expected to view women a certain way as dictated by gender roles and expectations. ever since he was a young he's been viewing women as a sort of male fantasy. growing up he's seen women as society expects them to be, cute, clean, prim, proper, and most of all innocent/naive. 

however, as he's grown older, it seems like he's realized that women/girls aren't like how they're portrayed in sexual media--at all. as we can see from all his works, the women he writes about are messy, they're a bit mean, manipulative, and they're selfish. he knows that women still have desires and their own personhoods. because women are still people. just like men.

(if you struggle to understand this, look at how mitani is portrayed in the earlier chapters as yohei uses her as "material". pay attention to how she's presented in his sexual fantasy. now compare that to how she's drawn when he actually is in a relationship with her, when he tries to kiss her in the park he says "i need to move on as a man!" and she looks at him filled with disgust. she rejects him completely. especially when compared to kei-----wait now im just rereading with brainworms uhm anyways----in later chapters when she does have intercourse with him, it deviates so much from his first fantasies with her, that he's been pursuing under this notion that he needs to prove himself as a man, it throws him off and he's unable to perform).

and he struggles to wrap his head around that. a lot media, not just Japanese in origin, portray female characters as a sort of light in the darkness. a good woman will open her arms and accept her man for all he is and fix him. she will be his emotional support, follow his every command, and give unto him everything he demands of her. 

so he's struggling to understand why that is. why are girls reduced to such a sanitized image when they're human too and have the same desires, wants, and needs? and why can't men be seen or portrayed as women are--pure, clean, submissive, innocent. (in fact i don't even think many female oriented narratives portray men that same way, not unless they're being satirical). 

he wants to be loved the way a girl would love him. if he could become a girl, then he wants to be a girl that would love someone like him. but he knows a girl like that doesn't exist, because women like that often don't exist. he knows that even if he did become a girl, he could never be the sort of girl he idolizes because that sort of person doesn't exist at all, especially if they view the world in such a sexual way as he does. his sexual history would follow him, and that sexual history is less close to his ideal, and closer to the kind of person he despises and wants to be away from. 

i think he's just upset that there's no way for him to become what it is he aspires to be. im sure that there's a lot more too it, but i also think labelling it as tran-ness is oversimplifying it. he's really trying to find the answers in gender and sexuality, but it'll be hard to do that since he's trying to understand something very societal, patriarchal, personal, and above all--stigmatized. 

also to everybody saying he needs therapy where is he supposed to go for therapy? as if therapists in the united states aren't shoddy in quality as is you think he'll be able to find a therapist that'll easily agree to help him work through his issues with sexuality, masculinity, gender/dysphoria, anxiety, depression, and suicidal ideation without signing him into a ward? even if he does have a therapist. that's a lot of work to get done, and it'll take more than a year to address all that.

#sorry okaeri alice gives me such brainworms #now i wanan reread it knowing the ending and how we got here #esp with the afterwards #there is so much going on here and his latest statement/afterward is putting so much into perspective for me i feel like im understanding #his vision #but its late im about to go to sleep and i dont have the strength to continue typing #i also have to reread all the afterwards together and who knwos maybe ill either heavily re-write this or delete it tomorrow evening based #on what i find after rereading

[nerdy-alto]

Curse you, AC/DC, Mormonism, and/or Laziness

(In honor of Twitter's continued death throes, I figured why not repost one of the favorite long-form things I've written.)

I listened to a lot of music growing up. As the oldest kid, most of what I listened to in my very early childhood was my parent’s music; Linda Ronstadt, Doobie Brothers, Barry Manilow and various classical composers. It was a mark of my growing independence when I got my parents cast-off hi fi systems and was able to find my own radio station to listen to. And boy, did I listen to it. When we ran out of Star Wars topics to cover during recess we talked music. My big favorites were Duran Duran, or at least any band that wore make-up and had keyboards. Beyond the obvious and well-documented prepubescent attraction to non-masculine dudes, what totally attracted me to certain songs was their utter incomprehensability.

Telegram force and ready I knew this was a big mistake There’s a fine line drawing my senses together And I think it’s about to break If I listen close I can hear them singers oh-oh-oh Voices in your body coming through on the radio-oh-oh The union of the snake is on the climb Moving up it’s gonna race it’s gonna break through the borderline

Seriously, wtf does this even mean? But it didn’t matter to me, because this wasn’t your ordinary, Barry Manilow type song about some girl named Mandy, or dead showgirls (1) – this was deep. And maybe I didn’t understand it now, but when I got older – maybe mature enough to have a boyfriend, or wear makeup, or have a boyfriend who wore makeup it would all become clear to me, and I would listen to these songs with a profound understanding. Yes, I’d surely cogitate, this is the Union of the Snake breaking through borderlines. Good thing I got that telegram force!  

I can hear your cries of protest now – But surely you weren’t an idiot, nerdycellist, why did you just accept that kind of nonsense? To which I reply, Why thank you, no, I was of course a very smart child (2) but those crucial years of cerebral cortex development were marred by Mormonism. (3) Among Mormonism’s many fine doctrines and articles and rules and crap is the concept of “the milk before the meat”. Both the History and Theology of Mormonism is sometimes less than salubrious (mountain meadows massacre), and frequently insanely wacky (Adam-God doctrine). Since Mormonism’s also big on converting people, they try and keep the crazy shit from the new recruits until they’re far enough entrenched in the cult that they’re willing to suspend disbelief. The official party-line is the analogy that a baby must first learn to drink milk before it can eat meat – too much too soon and you’ll puke, I guess. So I figured that I can’t smile without you was like how Jesus Loved You and the reflex being a lonely child waiting by the door was the idea that my husband would have lots of other wives with me in heaven.

 So I had a certain comfort level with not understanding stuff – hell, it may have been a superiority complex – and I listened to a lot of radio. Also kiddies, in those days there was no internet to look up song lyrics, so if you didn’t have the album, you didn’t have the liner notes which only sometimes had lyrics printing in them. I was quite willing to settle for my ear’s first guess when it came to songs.

 The last piece of the puzzle here is my laziness; this has always been the bane of my existence. I learned to read very early and with that came a certain amount of knowledge in other school-related pursuits.(4) One of those was spelling, which is a terrible subject for english speakers and learners – it doesn’t make any sense! They only way you can learn how to spell is to be exposed frequently to the word. The other is just by rote repetition. My 5th grade teacher, Mr. Coombs, a favorite mostly because he tried to keep up with important pop cultural references (5), had developed a great strategy for lazy smarty-pantses like myself, who would normally get incomplete marks on take-home spelling homework that I deemed pointless busywork – he gave us 10 minutes on Monday morning to review our list of 20 words, then gave us a pre-test. You only had to do your spelling homework on the words that you missed and then you had the real test on Friday. I hardly ever missed any words on the pre-test, and so was able to skip the bogus busywork. I also pretty much aced the Friday tests. (6)

 So let us combine these points into a final scenario: A Friday spelling test was always a nice way for me to usher in the weekend. I had aced the monday pre-test and not had to waste any time copying words out or using them in sentences. Mr. Coombs would always use them in a sentence anyway when calling out the test, which was good in this case, because I had been zoning out when he first pronounced the second to last word, but he used a song lyric to illustrate it! Rad!

 I put my pencil to paper…

 “… dirty deeds and their Dunderchief.”

 huh.

 I knitted my eyebrows. That was one of those words, like wah-lah, that I had only heard but never seen written down. And that was from a part of the song that I wouldn’t understand until I was emotionally prepared to deal with the consequences of the full knowledge of that song. I was just going to have to use the context clues of the lyrics to figure out how to spell it. Dirty deeds and their Dunderchief… like an Indian Chief, only because they were Dirty deeds (and not Indian Deeds), they had a Dunderchief. You know, like a dunderhead. Yes! Now “i” before “e”…

 This made sense to me. Or at least enough that I scribbled it out in enough time to catch the last word on the quiz. It is to his credit that when Robbie Elmer passed back my corrected spelling test that he didn’t circle the word and write “stupid” or “what is this supposed to mean, idiot?”, but the big red (X) next to #19 was enough to shame me into blushing furiously while considering not turning in the paper at all so Mr. Coombs would never know that I mistook “Cheap” for a made up concept of a Leader of Dirty People.

Also, please note that any spelling mistakes in this essay were left in deliberately, as an excercise for the reader.

*******************************

Footnotes:

1. Holy crap, do I love this song. Also Manilow, but had to be closeted about that back in the day.

2. So smart in fact that I was used as a lab rat for some UofU grad students for their dissertation of kids who can pronounce all the words in Tolstoy but don’t really understand it, or doing stuff with mealworms or something. All I know is I got out of class for like an hour on the days I didn’t get out for orchestra practice! Score!

3. Man, is there anything that can’t be blamed on Mormons?

4. Manifested itself in Kindergarten, when I zoned out during reading because I was already done with Dick and Jane, and then zoned back in during math with the shock that I couldn’t make a 5.

5. He also brought his guitar sometimes and taught us Ghost Riders In The Sky – or was it Ghost Riders in Disguise? Also he demonstrated important scientific concepts by taking us out in his cessna two at a time to do barrel rolls and shit.

6. OK, I think I’m done bragging about my own clerverness now. But I will leave you with one final piece of evidence to my own brilliance – I was so smart I repeated 8th grade!

#way too long #exmormon #spelling #gen x #neurospicy #so many words #maybe some adhd? #dork shit

[loveamorettai]

12/10/2022 - #1

Hi [M],

It's cold outside in England. I wonder if it's the same for you as well right now in America? I know you only moved there a few months ago, but please try to adjust. You've always done well with change. Or maybe I couldn't see through the façade you put on when you wanted everything to seem fine. Either way, maybe it's a better environment for you there.

Our fight, at the airport before you left, must've been an unpleasant start to that first step in change, even though you got what you wanted. But I will never take back what I said. Your words have an impact on those around you, and when they start to retaliate, justifiably so, you shouldn't get mad at them for it. Understand your errors and look back on mistakes. Learn from them. Please remember that going forward, with any new relationship.

Please don't repeat that godforsaken history.

I hope you're doing okay. I know you hate when I tell you that, but I truly care about your wellbeing. You know, everyone did. You told yourself a million times that no one cared. But we did. I'm sorry we couldn't make it known to you properly.

Perhaps I trusted in you too much to pick yourself up when you were down. And I'm sorry for that too. I didn't give you the best advice as a friend, a partner or a lover and I regret not knowing how to articulate my thoughts properly to you.

J.D.N. said he misses you. To be honest, when he grows older, he will most likely forget you. Maybe you'll consider coming back by then. Though, it's probably just wishful thinking on my part.

I think I'm getting better. I drink a lot less than before, which is surprising considering that I've just started Uni. I stopped smoking everything. I stopped feeling dread every morning when I wake up. Should I attribute this to you leaving? Or is this my own resolve? Whatever it is, I want to keep getting better with my life choices.

And I've stopped thinking of you as the devil. It was a stupid nickname everyone gave you and you hated it. You hated the nickname that they gave me too: "the devil's adjutant." I still don't even know what that means but I should've shut it down the minute they said it.

But now I see you in everything. The pens I've lent you, the clothes you bought for me, the notes you doodled on... I can't help but see a piece of you inside of them. So it hurts. When I'm talking with someone, I'll get so distracted by something that reminds me of you. Is this obsession? Is it heartbreak? Do you see me in anything too? God, I wish I knew. I wish I knew it all.

Either way, this is my first letter. I'm hoping you find this letter through my username. Seems familiar, right? Haha.

Love,

Amorettai

(P.S. If anyone else is reading this, hello. This letter was written hastily, so it may seem incoherent, strange, out of order. But as long as a piece of my heart exists, even for someone else to read, then I am content with it.)

[wiw3]

What Your Heart Should Go Out To, A Brief Recap of Doc’s May of 2022

I am slowly breaking over the course of this month, although it doesn’t feel like it, maybe it’s this blog softening the blow, dulling the edge, so to speak. It’s making things better in an anti-Machiavellian way. This is to say not cunning, in the open, and as nonpolitical as it gets. As this type of writer, it’s fun to pride yourself sometimes on the ability to not be able to describe what things are, necessarily, but to describe what they’re not.

That brings me to what my month was not. I don’t plan on doing recaps like this every month or even yearly, but my Woe-Is-Me-Ter is at an all time high this month, feelin’ sorry for myself. In spite of this, I’ve been able to get a remarkable amount of things done, like my pilot! The one that I can’t stand to look at, and consider to be an abomination to storytelling, as my first piece ever written, I can’t respect it as good, but I can respect it as existing, and having a reason to.

It needs a rewrite, it needs a thousand rewrites before I’ll like the content of it, but I should allow myself to like the fact that it exists. The joy that I got just from finishing it, the pleasured euphoria, like a feeling after sex. I needed a cigarette, because you need a cigarette, even after bad sex.

I don’t smoke cigarettes, and I don’t have sex.

I thought I could, it was something I thought I could stomach with the right person, at least that’s how I’d felt before the events of this month had transpired. We’ll slowly get to that weather recap in a minute, now back to Todd with Sports!

I don’t have a sports channel, and these pretzels suck.

I can only talk about how things made me feel, and how certain stimulants in my life yielded certain reactions as per the scientific method, and explaining long and hard as to what made me cry and why now I can’t stop smiling, as hard as it is to say that, as much of a conflicting contrarian as I am, let’s get into it. 

I finished my pilot, which is the golden beam of sunshine that has burnt the zombies and ghosts haunting me to a crisp through this month. I frankly consider it one of the few reasons I didn’t suffer an unfixable mental break that would label me as a danger to myself and others.

But my focus feels so misguided. I feel so lost, vaguely clouded these last few weeks, especially. Finally obtaining insurance, I went to see my dentist, who I have fond memories of. This gentleman was someone I knew from my days as a Midwesterner Illinois boy, and he always made me so comfortable about being at the dentist.

The doctor was smaller than I remember, but just as kind, and seemed as if he’d just evolved into a smaller, wrinklier, and older man. It was okay, I didn’t judge him for it, he and I knew that we were both human and if I was lucky, I’d look like him one day.

We see that my wisdom teeth are a problem. There isn’t enough space in my mouth for them to come in without hurting some other teeth. They have to go, so I’ve got the stressors from the costs of that. A pilonidal cyst has appeared and hasn’t quite reached a crucial state of infection just yet, but it needs addressing as well. I’m falling apart medically, slowly, bit by bit.

My father’s ruptured disks and painkiller-clinging has put a strain on a relationship with my mother, who I’d just started getting back into the good graces with before all of this had happened. From the stories I’ve heard, Oxy can damage your relationship with your family something fierce, and I don’t quite think it’s anyone’s fault. Either that or it’s everyone’s fault, myself most included.

I’d obtained a girlfriend, as simple as I put that, let that be a groundbreaking statement that shatters the soundwaves and makes air-raid sirens go off and sinkholes open in the earth. I obtained a girlfriend. I fell in love with that girlfriend, we’d had history. It was so easy to fall back into old habits with her. I had her heart in my hands, and vice versa.

And I was informed that I was misinformed about the way things were going. We were a bad fit for each other, and I was spun around in circles a few times. It felt as if I’d been used, a brief hiccup in a life of me trying to gut myself for the general public. We only ever had one fight, and it was the one to end our relationship. I need to be less reductive when I speak to people, even if I’m being kind.

I used too many words like “cute; adorable; precious; sweet, etc.” to describe her and her interests, which was a mistake. I apologized so profusely in the moment, and in a desperate bid, I begged her not to leave me, as purely as I could. The love of my life communicated that it wasn’t mutual, and I just apologized for not being enough.

Anyone and everyone is free to disagree as passionately as their Disney fast-passes will allow, but I’m of the mindset that when you’re in love with someone, truly, you want the best for them, even if you aren’t it. So I said goodbye, as calmly as I could. I was thanked, told I was the best. I felt so manipulative with telling her that I wasn’t. If I was, she’d still be dating me.

It was a learning experience, one in which I see great value. I need to be gentler, and diversify my portfolio. It couldn’t hurt to get better at apologizing, but I know that I supplied more than enough love. Maybe I was smothering. It’s hard not to overthink these things, but honestly, she’s worth the stress. 

Last, but certainly not least, I was fired from my job, along with the two other senior members of staff. I fixed phones for a living, I can do that anywhere, but I loved the people I worked with, having that taken was a bit more taxing, although I have less to say about it, other than I hope every corporate drone at that location goes straight to hell once the rebranding takes over.

Please respect my candor right now as I express that despite all of this, as I was waking up to the morning of the massacre in Texas, everything melted, I felt so terrible for the families of these individuals, and truly pontificated on how such a horrific act could occur, or be allowed to occur in this day and age.

I went to work that day, thinking about it and sulking, and within the next couple of days, fired. Entirely unconnected, my mind was still too clogged with the idea that I wasn’t doing enough, that somehow karma was involved. I couldn’t do enough to help or console anyone from that travesty. It wasn’t even in a state that I have any remote connection toward in general. Though I suppose sympathy, if it’s done right, can know no distance.

I’m just hoping that these last few days of the month can be ridden safely, and written off as “comfort days” whatever that means relative to my blood-pressure, so that June can be started with me rewriting my pilot, blowing through the last of my weed stash and maybe even getting off of it for a while. Who knows? Find out in the next issue of “Doc’s a Piece of Shit, Here’s Why!” weekly! Ciao~!

#blog post #rant #life rant #my rants #writing #creative writing #blog #blogging #angry #sad #lonely #fired #self care #possibly triggering

[firefly-in-darkness]

Lost and Found.

Pairing → Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Characters → Ciri, Jaskier, Priscilla, Yennefer (mentioned)

Summary → Geralt left with Yennefer for months.

Word Count → 5k

AFG Square Fill → Geralt @anyfandomgoesbingo

Warnings → 18+. Angst, heartache, jealousy, swearing, happy ending

Betas → @wonder-cole // all mistakes are my own.

A/N →  Well this ended up being a longer story than I expected… I’ve only written for Geralt / The Witcher fandom once before and will have used content from the series, the books and the games as I have watched, read and played everything based on our ashen haired babe

The tavern was full of locals that had escaped from the cold night air. Farmworkers caked in mud with a distinct stench of sweat, merchants drowned their sorrows or celebrated their successes. A shadowy corner for the gamblers prayed for their Gwent decks to fare better than their opponents. There were even some families gathered by the large fire with bowls of broth and torn pieces of bread.

You had taken a seat at an empty table, slightly out of sight from the group you were meant to be with. You weren’t ready to be confronted with that situation until you had at least two tankards worth of ale in your system. In all fairness, you had debated about coming here in the first place, but it was Cirilla’s twenty-first birthday, and you would have felt awful if you hadn’t shown your face, even for the briefest of moments to wish her well.

It had absolutely nothing to do with avoiding a certain witcher, nothing at all.

A few years ago, Ciri marched into a small school on the outskirts of Rochdale, a quaint town in Velen, and stated that she wanted to continue her studies. Even if it was only for a few days a month. When her family visited. The matron was sceptical at first, not knowing who this child was or where she had come from but when Ciri produced a large coin purse, there were no qualms of fitting her into the roster of students.

You took Ciri under your wing the moment she’d stepped into your classroom. Ciri’s love for history and mythology strengthened the bond between you. Many evenings were spent talking about the world and all its wonder. And particularly, the monsters that lurked in the darkness.

In the space of a few weeks, you learnt a lot about Ciri and her adoptive parent. She confided in you about her hardships of trying to find Geralt. He was someone that her grandmother had told her to go to when Cintra fell to the Nilfgaardians. Your heart had clenched at the thought of such a sweet young girl wandering this world alone, with no family and in search of someone that she did not truly know existed.

It was one evening when Ciri unravelled the rope attached to her horse outside the school, waiting for Geralt to arrive, that you first met him. While you loaded the saddlebags with books, the sound of hoofs on the cobblestones caught your attention, and a majestic mare appeared from the side of the stone wall with a man astride her. He silently nodded to Ciri, no further expression or acknowledgement was made.

It looked as if there were no more than fifteen years between Geralt and Ciri, and he was not what you had expected. You had envisioned an older man, a farmer or merchant perhaps, with a family of his own. Not this handsome man, in a black cape, luscious white hair that curled over his shoulders.

He had caught you off guard, enamoured as you watched him dismount the horse. Your bodies almost touched in the tight space between you both. You stared at his chest, the wolf head medallion indicating his occupation. A Witcher. He towered over you; amber eyes glared down as you froze to the spot. Your legs felt like lead as you were held in his gaze. He should have frightened you, a slayer of monsters but, regardless of his stoic appearance, his presence provided a sense of calm.

The first grunt that he expelled went unheard, you snapped out of it when he did it a second time and shifted from his path so he could collect the books from Ciri. You could have sworn that, even though he seemed gruff, a small smirk twitched at your flustered state.

“See you next week Miss,” Ciri called after you as you lifted yourself into the saddle and gave her a small wave.

The awkwardness heated your cheeks and your mind spiralled at the way you’d reacted to Geralt. You had never frozen in front of a parent or guardian before. A cough brought you to your senses and a groan rumbled through you unexpectedly as you turned to him, eyes wide with embarrassment and a wish for the ground to swallow you whole.

You waited for Geralt to say something, but no words followed, and he seemed to be in just a flustered state as yourself, but you tried to shake that thought. There was no way a man like him would ever think of a teacher in any way other than a guardian should.

Ciri popped from around Geralt’s horse, a mischievous look on her face, “He’s trying to ask you if you’d like to join us for dinner or would like company back to your lodgings.”

You smiled to yourself at the fond memory, the sound of music and laughter lifted your spirit in the small tavern. Until you glanced to the side; the seat beside you was empty, and its presence was a reminder of what you had lost. 

What had happened between you and Geralt was a friendship that had developed into secret sparks of lust. But your burning flame of love was extinguished the moment you saw him with Yennefer. After two years of tiptoeing around friendship and the late night trysts, you’d lost him to the most beautiful and powerful woman of the continent.

Your heart ached when you caught several glimpses of Geralt throughout the evening; either talking to the innkeeper or with Ciri and Jaskier as they attempted to get him to dance. He hadn’t seen you yet, you were sure of it, and you hadn’t made your presence known to anyone either. As much as you wanted to keep it that way, you would have to see Ciri at some point and that time came sooner than you expected as your eyes met across the tavern and she ran towards you.

In a flash of light, she teleported to your table and wrapped her arms around you. You would never get used to that. You returned the hug, clinging onto her as tightly as you could because it was likely this would be the last time, you would see her.

Nobody knew about your job offer at Oxenfurt Academy, that you were strongly considering the move to Redania, bags packed and ready at the door. It was what you needed, a fresh start. Plus, you knew that the matron was going to start looking at reducing the staff numbers after the drop in births in the town so you might as well get out before you were penniless.

You let Ciri go and caught another arrival to your side; Jaskier. His beaming smile was infectious, and he made you giggle as he dramatically bowed to you. Geralt was behind him, no expression on his face and not that you dared to look at him properly in fear for how much it would hurt you to do so. 

Completely unaware of the awkward tension that was filling the space between you and your former secret lover, Jaskier instantly took a seat opposite you and tipped his tankard upside down, “Oh Geralt, it looks like it’s your round!” 

Geralt grunted and left the three of you on your own. You relaxed ever so slightly as you watched him walk away and turned your attention to the birthday girl, woman.

“Oh, Y/N, it has been a while, three months at least!” Ciri said as she clasped your hands in hers.

“It has indeed, I heard from many merchants about your birthday celebrations, and I had to make sure at once that I was here to join in!” You beamed at her and shuffled along the wooden bench for her to join, “How long are you staying in town for this time?”

“I’m not sure, it depends on Geralt as always.” Ciri shrugged.

Priscilla, a beautiful blonde bard that caught Jaskier’s attention many moons ago in Novigrad, appeared at this side and pulled him away to perform a duet on the makeshift stage. In her excitement, Ciri jumped out and followed them. Even though they didn’t notice you had stayed behind, you didn’t mind and chuckled at their antics as they coaxed the patrons to gather around.

“Guess this is for you then.” Geralt slid into the seat opposite and gestured to the tankard, the foam spilling over the edge as you took it from him.

You were sure he could hear your heart thumping in your chest, choosing to give a small smile and a nod as you sipped the ale. The bittersweet melody filled the room, and it took you back to another time. To one where Geralt held you in his arms and filled you with so much hope for a future together.

It was your first visit to the Skellige Isles, and you loved every second that you spent with Crach an Craite and his clan, celebrating his daughter, Cerys, becoming Queen. You had been surprised when Geralt had asked you to accompany him, thinking that he’d ask Yennefer or Ciri to join him, but you didn’t let the moment pass you by; it was the first time you’d been on a ship and travelled the seas, let alone attended a coronation.

The banquet hall was full to the brim of Jarls and their clans from the many islands that formed Skellige. Enormous amounts of food were laid out on the tables and wine was on a never-ending supply. The revelry continued long into the night, you and Geralt clapping and laughing along to the guests dancing the Cèilidh.

You brought the goblet to your lips, now stained red from the wine, and sipped slowly as you felt the alcohol taking effect. Warmth filled your cheeks and you felt like you were floating with Geralt at your side, his arm securely around your waist.

“Drink up, because we are going up there any minute.” Geralt whispered in your ear.

Once more, Geralt had surprised you, thinking he’d never do such a thing and proving you wrong in an instant. Or, just, maybe, you shouldn’t believe everything that Yennefer tells you. He whisked you up into his arms and you skipped into the throng of bouncing and twirling dancers.

After a few stumbles and the odd miss turn, you found the rhythm and began to enjoy yourself. It was like you were in your own little world with Geralt. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might burst from your chest. Together, you rounded the dance floor, twirling between other people and joining them for the group segments of the dance before returning to Geralt to skip through a human archway.

The music hit its end, you and Geralt both collapsing onto a bench, still giggling through the pain of being out of breath. He leant forward, his hand firmly on the nape of your neck, and pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back with no inhibitions.

Your fingertips skimmed along your bottom lip, the memory of Geralt’s kiss still lingering there. After all this time, the memory had you brimming with hope and desire, or maybe it was the ale that was clouding your judgement. Without a second thought, you turned towards Geralt to find that he was looking straight at you, and he was too slow to hide his staring. You choked out a laugh as his eyes went wide and his cheeks tinged pink. Never in a million years did you think you’d see the witcher blush.

“I’m sorry but your face.” You giggled into your palm, swaying from side to side and clutching your belly. “So-sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” He tried to sound angry, but his smirk betrayed him.

Your fit of laughter tapered off and allowed you to regain your composure. The awkward silence filling the space between you once more as you resigned to not pursuing the conversation. A wave across the room caught your eye, Ciri beckoning you over but as you turned to stand, Geralt placed his hand atop yours on the table.

He hardly touched you, and you were staring at his hand, uncertain as to what he was doing. You lifted your head to find his softened gaze and immediately dropped back into your seat, nodding for him to say whatever it was that was on his mind.

“What were you thinking?” He whispered.

“When?” Your brow furrowed, the weight of Geralt’s hand growing as he relaxed.

“Just now. It looked like you were daydreaming.” He asked.

Your heart raced; you were silly to think he wouldn’t notice. He notices everything, and you couldn’t lie to him, he would catch you out, even if you were good at it. Stalling for time, you picked up your empty tankard and tried to catch the remaining droplets for some courage.

“If you really must know,” You paused, waiting for him to shut the conversation down but he didn’t and you felt the heat rising up your neck, “Erm, well, I was thinking about when we danced at Cerys’ ascension.”

Geralt smiled, a full beaming one, one that was like the moment he pulled away from your kiss all those years ago. It hit you with a force, and you couldn’t hold back all the feelings that you had packed away when he left with Yennefer not even a few months ago.

He didn’t say anything, just smiled and then sipped his ale. You weren’t sure what was happening and why he was looking at you like that. As if he was happy that you still thought of him fondly. Before you could question him, Ciri was at your side and tugging at your arm to join her, exclaiming that there would be dancing. You unfurled her hand from its grip and shook your head.

“I’m sorry Ciri, but I have to go now.” You gave her a sad smile as you stepped out from the table and pressed a light kiss to her cheek, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your celebrations little sparrow.”

Ciri’s face softened at the old nickname, “Thank you, do you need someone to walk you home.”

You chose to ignore the glare that Ciri was giving Geralt as you pulled the cloak around your shoulders. Geralt wouldn’t fall for her tricks but she was stubborn and from the huff and scrape of the chair, you knew she had gotten her way.

“Ready?” Geralt asked and you nodded, following him through the door into the night.

It was freezing, the air bit into the exposed skin of your cheeks and neck. Suddenly Geralt was in front of you, pulling the hood over your head and bringing it tighter around you.

“There’s a storm coming, you don’t want to catch a cold.” He explained.

You were dumbfounded at his care and the way he weaved an arm across your shoulders, guiding you back to your cottage. Unable to do or say anything more than put one foot in front of the other, or thereabouts, in your slightly merry state.

Geralt was warm, and smelt of ale, sandalwood, and leather. You were unable to stop yourself from sinking further into his hold, relishing the moment. Even if it meant that your heart would shatter once you reached your home, and the loss of his warmth would bring tears.

Silence remained between you, yet this time it was comfortable. It was as if this is where you were meant to be; walking side by side in a small town, surrounded by the multitude of stars and nothing but the beating of your hearts.

The cobbled path wound around various shops and cottages, culminating in the town square. It was empty, a distinct comparison to when you visited earlier in the morning to see if the visiting merchants had anything new or different to sell.

“Would you have liked to dance?” Geralt whispered, if the square was alive with the traders and merchants, you wouldn’t have heard him, but it was clear in the open air.

“I’m sorry?” You uncurled from his hold and stood in front of him, looking up at his glowing eyes.

“Back there, did I stop you?” He asked with a neutral expression that you had long ago realised was a mask to hide his true feelings.

“No,” you shook your head and wrapped your arms around yourself, “I did think it was time to leave though.”

“Because you were daydreaming about me?” Geralt asked, a lopsided smile on his lips as you continued down the path.

“Yes, because I was getting caught up in our past.” You ducked away from his sight, “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“I was thinking about the same thing, well more specifically what happened afterwards.” Geralt stopped at the gate to your cottage, “And I think you were too.”

You looked up at him, knowing you couldn’t lie, with a sad smile “You know I was Geralt. Don’t play games with your thinking. Thank you for walking me home.”

Geralt’s words rushed out, “Can I come in?”

Once again, Geralt was full of surprises, he’d never invited himself round and usually, he would just enter without question. Then you thought of how different things were now that you had gone your separate ways. When he chose to be with her.

“What would Yennefer think?” You asked, the jealousy not missing from your tone no matter how hard you tried to be nonchalant.

“Yennefer is not my master.” He grunted, “Why are we even talking about her?”

“Because you left with her. That day.” You bit down on your lip in a hope of tears not making an appearance. “I didn’t realise you had feelings for her until Jaskier mentioned the djinn and the wish you granted.”

“That fuckin’ bard.” He growled, “I do not have feelings for Yennefer, my wish was about you, but it didn’t work. You didn’t want me near you.”

You recoiled at his tone, “excuse me? You’re the one that left in a carriage to god knows where for months without a single word.”

“I left a letter.” Geralt pushed through the cottage door and gestured his hands towards the candles dotted around the cottage, causing a flame to ignite at their wicks.

You followed him into your bedroom and watched as he pulled at the drawer that you’d put aside for him many moons ago, and atop his tunics was a piece of folded paper. You stared at the letter, now in Geralt’s hand. 

It had been too painful to open the drawer, you hadn’t been in it since he left. It had taunted you enough just by being there, a reminder of you welcoming him into your home. Let alone being able to feel the fabric or take in his scent, it would have filled your heart with more pain.

“As it’s still in the drawer, I’m guessing you didn’t find it.” Geralt sighed, placing it down on the furniture and leaning back against, folding his arms. “And that explains why you didn’t turn up the other night.”

“I didn’t, why would I have gone in there?” You whispered as you began preparing the fireplace, anything to keep you busy.

He mumbled, “Because you sleep in my tunics when I’m away.”

“Okay, and what about the other night?” You questioned as the flames caught on the logs, “Where was I supposed to meet you?

At the lack of response, you turned to look at Geralt and he was scowling at something behind you, the trunk at the door and a collection of bags. You watched him taking in the rest of your home. There were no ornaments or trinkets on the walls, no books on the shelves or stacks of parchment dotted around. It was all packed away, ready for you to leave.

“Are you going somewhere?” He asked, the neutral appearance back on his features.

“Yes.” you nodded.

“For how long?” His arms dropped from their hold on his chest.

“For as long as I have a job.” You stated.

“Where?” Geralt was quiet and looking down at the floor.

“Oxenfurt Academy.”

His head snapped up, amber eyes glinting in the dim light of your cottage, “Why are you going to Redania?”

“Because I have nothing else here.” You shrugged as a tear fell from your cheek, you knew that not saying goodbye was hard, but this seemed a lot harder.

“What about Ciri? Or Jaskier? Priscilla?” Geralt asked, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he waited for your answer.

“I’m sure I’ll see them again. Ciri and I will likely cross paths if she pursues her education, and I’m sure she’d track me down the second she finds out about me leaving. I already made a promise to Jaskier that I’d see Priscilla’s shows wherever I am.” Before Geralt interrupted, you sat on the edge of your bed and continued, “He doesn’t know, it was an old promise, and you know what I’m like when it comes to those.”

Geralt silently moved across the room and sat beside you, taking your hand in his, “What about me?” 

You shook your head, “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Geralt looked at you, a softness in his eyes, “So, Oxenfurt Academy?”

You were unable to look at him, ashamed of deciding to leave in haste and without talking to him about it at least once, “Yes, I leave in a couple of weeks.”

“I’ll follow you anywhere.” He promised and before you could counter him, he continued, “I asked you to meet me at the docks because I wanted to give you this.” 

Geralt opened a pouch attached to his hip and pulled out a delicate silver chain. He held it out so you could see the side profile of a wolf’s head with an amber gem for the eye. You weren’t sure what to say as you marvelled at the beautiful gift, lifting your hair away from your neck for Geralt to clip it in place.

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.” You whispered.

Your fingers glided along the chain and you held the wolf away from your chest, twisting it in the glow of the candles. A stray tear fell down your cheek but Geralt caught it with the pad of his thumb. You leant into his warm touch, his calloused palm a welcome feeling that you had long missed. Geralt lifted your face and pressed his forehead to yours before he softly kissed you.

The kiss was tentative at first, light pecks making way for harder pushes and pulls, swipes of tongue until your arms were wrapped around Geralt’s neck. You adjusted until you were straddling his lap. Geralt pulled at the lacing of your tunic until it loosened around your shoulders and exposed more of your chest. 

He brought his lips to yours again, the kiss was more heated than before. Tongues swiped and teeth nibbled along each other’s lips with him pulling your body into a tight hold, his erection hardening and pushing against your core. 

At the spark of pleasure, you pulled away in shock and lifted your body from him. You held the tunic in place and backed away, sitting further down the bed from him, his head hanging down as you tried to make sense of why you pulled away and were still protecting yourself when it was clear that he wanted you.

“I’m sorry Geralt, I- for the longest time, I thought you were with Yennefer, I-” You sobbed, hand cupping your mouth as you let the emotions flow freely.

You felt the bed dip and you turned to find Geralt laying back against the pillows, an arm open in waiting. You scooted up the bed and curled into his side, sinking into his warmth, and being soothed by the fingertips that swirled up and down your arm in nonsensical patterns.

“As I said before, I will follow you anywhere that you go.” He murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

With the tears no longer falling, you tipped your head up to look at Geralt to find his eyes closed. You rested your head onto his shoulder and began to trace the shape of the medallion on his chest, sleep finally taking you to the world of dreams as raindrops began to patter on the roof.

A new home: it was on a quiet street quite close to Oxenfurt academy, only a twenty-minute stroll until you were in the hustle and bustle of the city. It was a lot busier than you had prepared for, especially compared to your small town of Rochdale. 

Your colleagues had told you that you’d been lucky to find the lodgings in the area and for such a good rental rate too. The ground floor consisted of a kitchen and seating area and the upstairs hosted two bedrooms. It was just the right size for you, but you hadn’t fully unpacked yet. Satchels half-emptied and trunks open but still full to the brim with trinkets and books.

You were settled in the chair by the fireplace, the warm embers glowing as you read the book in your lap. It wasn’t late but your eyes were feeling heavy after the most hectic month of moving to the city and settling into your new role at the academy. 

A knock at the door made you jump; the book fell to the floor with a thud. Tentatively, you approached the entrance to your home and glanced through the frosted pane in the wooden door but could only make out two figures. Ciri and Geralt stood before you, your mouth dropped agape as their arrival was unexpected and you weren’t sure what to say.

“Surprise! I’ve enrolled at Oxenfurt Academy.” Ciri laughed and wrapped her arms around you.

You held her close and rested your chin on her shoulder, looking over at Geralt, shock and happiness coursing through you. In the dim light of the torches that lined the street, his mouth twitched into a smirk. Your heart fluttered and you couldn’t wait to have his arms wrapped around you once more.

“I cannot believe it; I wish you’d let me know beforehand so I could have prepared for your visit.” You beckoned them into the warmth of your new lodgings, picked up the fallen book and attempted to tidy away the pots and pans on the table.

“Oh, come on Y/N, it’s only us, I’ll start making a pot of tea.” Ciri headed over to the stove and filled the kettle.

Geralt entered your home, he filled the space with his height and broad shoulders, the atmosphere was tense, and you weren’t sure what to do. It had been a while since you last spoke to him; the morning after he returned and discovered you were moving away.

“Hello,” you squeaked, unable to keep the excitement from your tone, “erm- how long are you staying? Where are you staying?”

“Ciri mentioned you had spare beds.” Geralt murmured. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, of course, right this way.” The steps creaked underfoot as you both ascended the staircase, and your nerves began to bubble as you felt his eyes on your back. You opened the first door to the spare room with two single frames and a small chest of drawers, “sorry it’s not much. My bedroom is just down the hall and there is a bath in there.”

Geralt placed a couple of satchels on the bed and removed his armoured plate. You couldn’t help the way you stared at him in the tunic and the dark hair across the exposed part of his chest. He pulled out a small bag from a satchel pocket and turned back to you with a small smile.

“I-We brought your favourite biscuits from Rochdale.”

The stutter did not go unnoticed, but you did not react to it, instead offered a smile and a whispered thank you as Geralt placed the bag into your outstretched hand. Instantly, you opened it and raised it to your face to inhale the sweet scent of the treat.

“This will go lovely with the tea, we should-.” You gestured back to the stairs and spun on your heel.

“Wait,” Geralt huffed and caught the crook of your arm to turn you to face him, “I should have done something else when you answered the door.”

A frown etched on your features until his hand cupped your cheek and you caught the way his amber eyes glowed as they flicked down to your lips. Your mouth parted and your eyes fluttered closed as you slowly edged towards one another, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss.

Your body tingled in Geralt’s hold, as your lips melted into his chapped ones. Knees grew weak as he invaded all your senses. It was as if he knew and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you flush to his hard chest.

Both of you pulled away for air, his fiery gaze drank you in and sent a wave of pleasure through your body. He claimed your mouth once more with hunger, your hands carded through his ashen locks, and you tugged him closer still. Geralt lifted you into his arms and carried you to your bedroom.

Too consumed in your reunion and that Geralt had kept his promise to follow you anywhere, neither of you heard the door close behind Ciri’s hasty exit.

The tea and biscuits were long forgotten.

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7 / @fandomfic-galore / @writerwrites / @thefridgeismybestie / @wedonttalkaboutitenough​ / @courtneychicken / @persephonesinfernos / @miraclesoflove​ / @lizzarooni​ / @queenoftheunderdark​

#Geralt x Reader #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt #Geralt Fic #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia Fic #Geralt Fanfic #Geralt Fanfiction #The Witcher #The Witcher Fic #The Witcher Fanfic #The Witcher Fanfiction

[youreyeslookliketheocean]

youreyeslookliketheocean’s DSMP Fic Recs!!

Figured it was about time for one of these... :)

Mostly SBI-centric because they’re my favorite dynamic. I’ll probably add to this list as time goes on, and I also want to go back through my ao3 history and find some lesser-known fics I really enjoyed to rec them all. But for now...

* oneshot  ** unfinished work

** the lights go out (my heart goes still) by curseworm

With his old home unwelcoming and his new one gone, Tommy is alone. After hours of staggering through the freezing snow, he finds a cabin.

Technoblade’s cabin.

He hides himself away in the deepest corner he can find, taking only what he needs to survive, wasting away in the cold and the dark. He’s petrified at the thought of being found out, terrified of what he thinks Techno would do to him.

When Techno finds his injured teenage brother huddled in a filthy little cave beneath his basement, the rage he feels is immeasurable. The voices demand blood, and blood he will give them. Dream won’t be getting away with this one.

(On the other side of the world, in a country that floats on a man-made lake, Philza gets himself in a bit of a pickle.) 

** The hearth down under by Crystalquill

A tiny change gives Tommy the courage to flee to the Nether instead of the cold tundra, finding an unlikely ally in the midst of a fiery hellscape.

But tiny changes can alter the course of history. The SMP will never be the same.

(Lots of cool Nether worldbuilding in this one!!)

to be a wanderer, wandering by hydrangeasheart

Tommy's feet drag in the snow.

It's so, so cold. He's so cold. His toes are freezing. His exposed shins feel like they’ve been cut open-- even the one that’s bandaged. His wings have gone numb, which is almost, almost good, because now he can’t feel the shifting, broken bones inside of the left one, just under feathers and muscle.

He doesn’t know why he’s still walking.

-

Or, Tommy leaves the exploded ruins of Logstedshire behind, and walks until he finds somewhere safe.

And things keep going from there.

(A canon-divergent AU, splitting off somewhere around when Tommy started hiding out below Techno's house.)

that’s, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know (and then “as long as i’m here”, and “he’s my brother, i just raise him”)

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade.

passerine by thcscus(blujamas)

Do I really need to put the summary here? Pretty much everyone knows this fic. Also, though, if you enjoy this one you should totally read thcscus’ connected fic, “shrike”!! It’s only at 2 chapters right now but it’s already really good and has this dark, foresty aesthetic I love...

not with a bang but with a whimper by dip_dyed_ghost

He knows Tubbo doesn’t care about him anymore. He knows that. He’s been shown that. But it doesn’t stop Tommy from caring about him. He brushes the pads of his fingers over the compass’s glass and wonders how he’s doing, if he’s tired of it all yet, if he needs help. He watches the way it points strongly in the direction over the ocean. He hopes he’s alright.

Even after everything, he hopes he’s alright.

During his exile, Tommy finds a drugged and hurt Tubbo on his doorstep. He can’t not help him.  

(This one has a neat take on potions, in my opinion. Also it’s only 4 chapters so it’s a quick read!)

take this compass, follow it home by lightning_anon

Tommy's a fuck up, he can't pay attention, and never sits still. He taps his hands, pushes people away, and has never had a best friend. He's a screwed up, forgotten kid lost in the foster system. He's also just been placed with a new family. Tommy knows how this goes, he never ends up staying long. After all, no one wants a fuck up like him.

Why would this house be any different?

Or: the obligatory sleepy bois foster fic, but with a focus on the neurodivergent kids that inevitably get lost in the system.

(Genuinely want to see more books like this in original fiction. It’s part of what inspired my newest og wip, “To Build a Home.” So sweet and I feel like I had my eyes opened to some neurodivergent tendencies I never knew existed. I read this in a day and can’t rec it enough.)

bloodlines by youreyeslookliketheocean

Tommy’s an orphan on the run from his previous guardian. Philza’s a king who prides himself on keeping his kingdom in an era of peace. Wilbur’s the crown prince, and Techno’s right beside him as his adopted brother. When Phil’s kingdom of Pogtopia is threatened by the bloodvines—a strange, brainwashing plant infecting many of the surrounding kingdoms—the four must work together to keep the kingdom, and their family, safe. --- A royal au sbi fic... + the bloodvines, for spice.

(Yes I’m self-promoting. But, in my defense, I’m very proud of it. If you checked it out it would mean the world to me :’))

Heat Waves by tbhyourelame

Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.

Another fic I think pretty much everyone knows about. Listen, listen... I was once an idiot who said “Oh no, I’ll never read Heat Waves. It’s irl, not characters, and it’s probably cringe”... No. I was so wrong. This fic is wonderfully written, with a pretty quick moving plot and great characterizations. You do need an ao3 account to access it, though. Just to let you know. (Also read “Helium”, unfinished and hasn’t updated in awhile, but it’s the continuation). 

Guitar Strings and Keyrings are What it Takes to Build a Home by Anonymous

Techno was adopted by Phil when he was 12 years old.

He'd been enjoying his morning before Phil came to him asking if he would mind them taking in another kid. Against his better judgement, Techno agrees and ends up with two new foster brothers who he was determined to not get attached to, no matter what.

Tommyinnit’s unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death by eneliii

“I uh,” Tommy starts, not knowing how to break this to the hero lightly. He hates to be the bearer of bad news. “I think your powers are broken? It’s not a bad thing of course, but like, I swear you tried to mind control me and it like, totally failed. Which is fine, honestly, don’t feel insecure. Everyone’s power stop working sometimes… I think.”

Sheesh, this is very awkward. Why is no one else talking? Why is Philza looking at him like he grew three heads? Why is the Blade staring at him so intensely? Why is Willow still frozen?

“Did I, did I hit a nerve? Yikes,” Tommy hisses, “Well um,” He steps back, bracing his legs and bending his knees, “This was like super fun, but I’m - I’mma head out.”

or,

in which Tommy manages to annoy the hell out of Phil, Techno and Wilbur by being both impossible to catch and irritatingly endearing.

or or,

a crack fic where Tommy is a vigilante and Phil, Techno and Wilbur are the heroes hunting him down.

(Feel like I am obligated to say how incredibly funny this fic is. Seriously. I have a distinct memory of sitting on my neighborhood park’s swing, giggling hysterically, while reading this. Well...until the end... but we won’t get into that...)

** bones in the ocean by bunflower

“Your reputation precedes you, y’know.”

“Does it, now?” Philza watches him coyly from where he’s now leaning against the wall, arms folded around his chains and gaze half-lidded, his lips curled in an arrogant, cat-like smirk.

“The Angel of Death, the ferryman of the Styx, the terror of the western seas. One of the most feared captains ever to sail, and yet, I have to wonder… how did a man like you end up all on his own? We searched the area where you were found—not another soul in sight. So,” He fixes him with a long look, allowing the silence to hover like a dark cloud, the words rolling off of his tongue with all the venom and smugness he can muster, “—tell me, Philza. Where is your crew?”

OR: Technoblade is a naval captain, and Phil his unwilling prisoner. Somehow, they manage to come out of it as friends in the end.

(Is this fic considered popular like passerine/Heat Waves now? Cause I feel like it’s reputation precedes itself, at this point... Pirate au.)

****

Okay! That’s it for now. Like I said, though, I want to add to this over time and also dig back for some older things I’ve read. Also, if you have any recs feel free to send them in! I’m about to go back to school and therefore might not have time for reading fun stuff, but whenever I get the chance I’d love to check them out!!!

Happy Reading!!

#dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #dsmp #dream smp fic rec #dsmp fic rec #fic recs #the lights go out my heart goes still #the hearth down under #to be a wanderer wandering #that's like a hundred miles #passerine #shrike #not with a bang but with a whimper #take this compass follow it home #bloodlines #heat waves #guitar strings and keyrings are what it takes to build a home #tommyinnit's unbeatable method of avoiding sudden death #tumoasd #bones in the ocean #sbi fic rec #sleepy boys inc #sleepy boys fanfic #dream team fanfic #dream team #ao3 #fanfiction

[bestruction]

Falling in love with a marleyan pt1

N/a: this request got me thinking a lot 😅 i guess that's why is so long and because of that, i'll be making a pt2 for Eren. I'm sorry for it, anon and thank you for sharing such great ideia with me💞 please let me know if you like it

(I inspired myself a little bit in this hc)

You can read the pt.2 here

- Reiner Braun

Since you were the daughter of an important general of the Marley army, you were always around in the headquarters learning about the military service. It was your dad's wish that you could bring honor to the family and for the country.

You never understood really well the importance of all that. You were just a kid.

So when he got busy, you preferred to walk around looking for something interesting instead of listening to hours of a conversation you didn't even understand.

And that's how you met Reiner.

One day, after picking up some book about the history of Marley and Eldia, you went to the patio to sit under the shade of a tree to read. Not long after, other children appeared, running and tired, and since you were behind the tree, none of them had noticed you until then.

“Take a breath and try to reach us later, Reiner. The commander will not like it if you don't finish the training ” said an older voice.

You heard footsteps drift away, and only the owner of the painting breath stays.

You were curious to know who it was since you had never seen children in the area. You came out from behind the tree with the tissue you carried in your pocket in hand to offer to the sweaty stranger.

He was astonished at first, and you noticed the golden armband on his arm.

He was an eldian warrior candidate.

Reiner stared at you for a few more seconds before accepting the tissue. He was afraid to offend whoever you were. He wiped the sweat off his forehead and bit his lips, not knowing whether to keep the delicate tissue or give it back.

The tissue dirty with the sweat of an eldian, but still the tissue of a Marley citizen.

"You can keep it if you want"

"thank you,"  He said almost in a whisper. "But don't you prefer that I take it to wash and then bring it back to you?"

"You don't need to bring it back, but if you want to, I'll be here waiting for you tomorrow"

Reiner ran again without looking back. He did not know how to act after that and when he returned home, he washed the white tissue hidden from his mother to return it to you the next day. He did not expect to see you, so when you came out smiling from behind the tree like the day before, he was more than surprised.

“You brought it! Thanks"

"Thanks…?"

You told him your name and noticed his eyes widen when he heard your last name. It was hard not to know who your father was in the army. So you didn't find it strange and asked the boy's name.

“Reiner. Rainer Braun ”

You smiled again, which made you wonder what was so funny.

"I'm sorry. It's just that it is a name that suits you so much that it is funny. It means warrior. That's what you are ”

You responded by pointing at his armband.

Reiner blushed more than he wanted to admit. Never had a girl said anything like that to him, let alone a marleyan girl.

"It's a pity that we can't talk for more than a few minutes, Reiner. I was never able to talk to an eldian so closely ”

He nodded with his head, still trying to ignore the blush on his cheeks, but it was unsuccessful since you then proposed the last thing that would go through his head.

Your father was indeed a general, but he did not see the eldians as inferior beings. That had been the reason he had entered the military career, had the slightest chance of being able to change that view, that was the honor he wanted you to bring. So he taught you the same thing.

To talk to someone like Reiner was not repulsive, but something that you longed to be able to learn more about the eldians in a narrative that was not what you saw at school.

That's why you proposed that you exchange letters. Secrets so as not to cause any kind of problem for him. He would leave his letter in the hollow trunk of the tree, and you would do the same when you couldn't meet in those brief seconds of his training.

He accepted more for fear of you than willingly, but as you talked about each other's daily lives, about the details you observed in each other, and the disguised looks when you passed by the quarter,  this fear gave way to a sincere friendship.

And without either of you realizing in something else.

When he was chosen to inherit the armored titan, you cried for hours in your room in secret, hugging the box where you hid all the letters exchanged for knowing what that meant.

And then he realized that you had fallen in love with the eldian of the letters.

It all happened very fast. You didn't have time to go to the quarter to see if he had left something on the tree and then read in the paper about the group of warriors sent to the demon island.

You never forget about him.

The years passed, and when Reiner returned, you had just taken a patent for being useful in strategy in other wars and thanks to your family's name.

He didn't expect you to remember him, and after everything that happened, he couldn't even think about it much.

But that thought changed when you whispered to him as you passed down the hall without anyone noticing:

"Look in the tree"

Like when you were kids, you had left a letter in the tree, and for some reason that he didn't know how to explain, it brought a certain comfort to his heart.

In the letter, you said how much you missed him. You had written for the old days since you two could talk without bringing any problem to him because you were in the army too. You asked him to meet you in the most deserted building in the area to talk better.

Reiner went to the place, and after seeing you up close for a longer time, he was sure that time had made you a beautiful woman. You talked for a few hours, and it was as if the two of you had gone back to being a child without the traumas he suffered in Paradis and the ones you got on the battlefield.

Once again, time passed, with you two talking cautiously as a precaution, exchanging a note here and there, meeting when you could.

You were the one who gave Reiner the strength to continue.

• It didn't take long for the childhood crush to become love, and the more you two tried to ignore it, the more evident it became until one day on impulse, in one of the many meetings in that building you kissed him.

And he reciprocated.

Your relationship was not easy. It would be a scandal if anyone knew. That's why you rented an apartment farther from the city to meet with more privacy without anyone knowing.

It was not easy, but you loved each other.

Reiner was your first love and your first time, and even with all the disadvantages, you would never choose someone else for that.

And now you're pregnant.

You haven't been feeling very well in the past few months, but you didn't worry too much because you thought it was just a war result, thanks to the stress that started after Paradis. Now, as a commander, you had more work than ever.

But after throwing up your favorite food, you decided to go to a doctor.

The doctor wanted to share the good news with your father, but no one knew about you and Reiner, nor should he. So you just made up an excuse like:

“I want to tell myself. Please keep it confidential ”  

And went home.

Part of you is happy, and the other is unable to stop “what if?”

What if someone finds out who the baby's father is?

What if Reiner doesn't react well to the news?

Raising a baby is already a difficult task, creating a baby that should not exist in the eyes of everyone ...

You didn't know what to do.

You needed to speak to Reiner as soon as possible.

With the end of the war and Marley's victory, you met in the apartment you had rented some time ago.

You waited for him to lie down next to you on the bed, and while caressing your face, you said:

"I’m pregnant"

Reiner sat on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. He was serious, he didn't need to ask if you were kidding.

"How long?"

"Two mouths"

He got up and paced the room before looking back at you.

"What are you going to do?"

"So now is just me, hm?"

“That’s not what I mean, baby” He snorts heavily “I just don’t know what to say”

“Maybe a‘ I’m here with you' it'd be enough, Reiner”

"You know I’m"

"Do i?"

Reiner saw you cry a few times, but the image of you sitting on the bed where you shared so many moments with your eyes full of tears will always be the hardest to forget in his mind.

     He comes to you, and without saying anything, he cries with you until both are calmer.

     Leaving the subject for later was not the smartest decision to make, but for now, it was what you both needed. So you decided to talk after Willy Tybur's speech that was going to happen that night.

     That night, you expected to end up in Reiner's arms and not having to run to save yourself, Falco, and Gabi.

     And even less shouting his name in a random window to wake him up.

    It was your voice that woke him up to fight. It was your voice that made him overcome the desire to die. It was your voice that gave him hope to move forward, and for your voice, for you, he would find a way to work things out.

     You stayed by his bedside every day while he was in the infirmary, which generated a lot of rumors about your compassion for the eldian.

     When Reiner woke up plagued by yet another of many nightmares, he thought he started to dream when he saw your warm smile.

    On an impulse, you hugged him tightly, leaving Pieck and Pig shocked across the room.

“I knew it. I knew you’d be fine ”You said without let him go.

“I'm here for you, baby” He answered, hugging you back. "For you two"

"How did you get the commander pregnant ?!" You heard Porco's voice.

“Pock, I thought you already knew how these things work at that age” teased Pieck.

“Don’t act like you’re not thinking the same!”

“Let’s go outside, and I’m going to explain to you how mama and papa Galliard made you” She teased again by pulling him out of the infirmary and winking at you.

She knew. Of course, she knew. Nothing escaped Pieck's perception.

    You told your parents about the pregnancy, afraid to tell you who the baby's father was. They understood the situation and helped you both throughout your pregnancy.

    Reiner always showed up at your house around dawn to make sure no one saw him. He always wanted to know how you were doing and compensate you in some way for not being able to go out and see you as a partner would do.

     Many rumors arose about who your baby's father would be, but you tried not to care since it was all rumors after all.

When you went into labor, it was a mess. The initial plan was that he would not come to your house so as not arouse suspicion. Pieck and Porco tried to convince him not to go, but he ran up to your house and entered the back. He couldn't stop thinking about your face. He couldn't leave you alone in a moment like this.

     And honestly, you were more than relieved when you saw the blonde enter your room, hold your hand, and repeat the same words from the day of the infirmary:

“I’m here for you, for you two”

#aot x reader #eren x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot x you #shingeki no kyojin #armin x reader #anime #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #reiner x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #Eren Yaegar #eren yaeger imagine

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Man from the Sky

Pairing: Loki x Goddess!Reader

Summary: You were a Greek sea goddess, just enjoying a typical day of nothing when a strange new god dropped into your land.

Warnings: None yet. There is smut in future chapters already written. Will post more soon.

Notes: I’m aware that what we’d think of as ancient Greece well predates who we’d call the vikings and their like cruising around the seas. This doesn’t take place at the height of the Greek pantheon worship, but old enough in human history that some men still believed in both sets of deities.

Chapters: Next Chapter Here

My Masterlist

—————————

You dipped your feet a little deeper into the warm water as it lapped the edges of the rock you sat upon. The sea was calm today, and the wind gentle as the nymphs chatted around you about the usual things. A bit of gossip one had heard from a local river nymph, a new shipwreck one had found, status of a fish migration from another.

You wouldn’t exactly call it boring though, you specifically chose these more remote areas when you came ashore for this very reason. It was so much more unlikely for you to run afoul of mortals here, or even others of your own kind that you may not feel like putting on airs with at this very moment.

It was so quiet in fact, that you were considering getting up to go lay in the sand on the beach in a few minutes and enjoy a nice nap in the sunlight.

That was before the boom which echoed through the air all around you. Somewhat like thunder, but not quite as all the nymphs fell silent.

When nothing came after, you felt all their eyes then turning to you. Their voices piped back up soon enough, though the tones in them changed to all nerves now.

“Do you wish to leave, milady?”

“Could it be Zeus?”

“But it didn’t sound like him.”

“Is there a volcano nearby?”

“What else could it be?”

“I don’t know what it was, I’ve never heard that sound.” You finally said, though now looking inward to the land. You were at least sure that the sound was not of the sea. But you refused to give in to the nymphs’ skittishness too quickly. And without real reason to leave, eventually you all did start to relax again.

Yet then came the cries. “Goddess, mistress please!” That cry absolutely was from the land as you looked in time to see the river nymph you’d met earlier in the day now running from the tree line and down onto the sands. She stumbled slightly, just before reaching you where the sea met the rocks.

She was panting, clearly having run some distance as she continued. “I’m so glad to still find you here,” She bowed slightly, only because she didn’t know you well enough to realize you didn’t require this.

“What is it?” You asked simply, honestly more curious now than anything else. What could she have seen that would strike her so alarming? Any nymph worth their ilk would know every creature, every natural occurrence, all that existed within their lands.

“There is a man in the forest, he came from the sky!” Yet she continued quickly, sure you would only think of Olympus. “But I do not recognize him as one of your own family. And his clothing, he is not of our territory. This I am sure, my goddess. I watched him only long enough to see that he was very angry. I am afraid of his intentions here.”

A man? But not truly a man. Mortals did not come from the sky.

“An angry god?” You said, now standing as you then stepped down from the rocks. The forest belonged to Artemis truthfully. But being this close to the sea, you thought that the older goddess would forgive you this if it came down to it. She would rather the nymphs be protected you were sure from any childish acts of a god’s wrath that may now come into play here.

You had brought no armor, the possibility of battle so far from your mind when you’d come ashore today. But that didn’t mean you travelled completely defenseless. “Bring me my spear please.” You requested of the sea nymphs.

Though they were still anxious, they responded dutifully, one sinking beneath the waves before reappearing with the glinting weapon in hand. It shone a brilliant silver, sea foam still running off its blue spear tip as she handed it to you out of the water.

“Show me the way, and I will investigate this stranger.” You spoke plainly, hopping down onto the sands as you strode barefoot towards the forest, spear in hand. “We will keep our distance as best we can, we don’t seek conflict, understood?”

“Yes, milady.” You heard, the sea nymphs staying behind you as the river nymph moved in front to lead you upward, the sand transitioning to rocky soil and the sparse vegetation and trees beginning to increase as you climbed the hillside.

For the sea nymphs, you could hear them losing their footing here and there in the loose soil, themselves of course far more adapted to swimming the ocean’s depths at your side rather than hiking up into the forests.

You did hope you were not putting any of them in danger. But if you felt they truly were in harm’s way, you would have no qualms in telling them to retreat back to the water at once.

“Up ahead,” The river nymph whispered to you, pointing towards a clearing you could now see leveling off in the distance. But the opening looked so strange with the density of the other trees now around you.

“Was that always there?” You asked her, knowing something unnatural when you saw it, even when this far from the water.

“No,” She confirmed. “When the sky opened up, it carved out the land as well. He appeared when that force receded.”

“Understood.” You replied, though in truth not really understanding at all as you motioned for all the others to proceed no further. You’d never seen something like this. “I will go alone. If he should attack me, please return to the sea to seek help.”

They fidgeted, looking unhappy but not arguing your choice. “Please be careful, goddess.”

You nodded, but kept on slowly. You tried to remember what you’d been taught as a little girl about stalking and hunting on land. So many moons ago, running through the forests with Artemis and at times Pan, being mentored before returning to the sea to your father, mother, and so many siblings.

But the closer you came, the more you realized that the stranger would likely not notice any sound of light footsteps approaching or ground shifting. As you neared, you saw his form pacing back and forth in the clearing, seemingly cursing to himself in a language that was not your own.

Yet it still sounded familiar. Abruptly you knew where you had heard a dialect like this before. It sounded so much like those voyagers from the northern seas. The ones with their longboats and course beards, sometimes with hair as red as fire as they fished and sang and fought.

And he did look as pale as them as well. But with hair like black of night, and a frame far more slender than the burly mortals you’d seen rowing those northern boats along. And just as the river nymph had warned, his clothing confused you as well. Rich green robe, but with black and gold as well. It was wholly foreign and exotic to you in its styling, as was he.

When she’d said a strange man had arrived, honestly you had also expected someone older in appearance. He looked quite youthful to be honest, even as his brow remained furrowed and his fists clenched at his sides.

And just when you thought his feet may actually cut a path in the earth from his agitated pacing, he finally slowed, then stopped all together.

This is when you froze as well, knowing you now had a decision to make. Should you keep to your hiding, just to hope he should eventually leave in whatever fashion he came? Or should you reveal yourself to question his identity and purpose here?

“Done spying yet, or do you intend to actually do something with that spear?” A cutting voice spoke abruptly to your side, so suddenly that you almost lost your footing, shocked as the same man emerged from behind other trees only feet from you.

But you still saw him in the clearing as well, at least you did momentarily before the image of him there dissolved, leaving only the form now nearest you.

“You speak my language?” Was all you questioned instead of answer him though, as he had said those last words only in your tongue. You also kept focusing on backing away as you chose to keep a safer distance. He was some sort of illusionist at least then, which could escalate the danger here very quickly if he made you lose your bearings.

And he was starting to circle you a bit you realized as he began to walk again. But you willed yourself to keep your spear at a neutral position, rather than aim at him, still not intending to provoke attack if it could be prevented. You had no idea what other strengths he might have, and your primary goal was still to keep the nymphs from getting caught in any crossfire.

“Not all of us are so uneducated,” He snapped back at you, still in your language, though you could detect that foreign accent underneath.

You were not wholly unused to rudeness though, yet it had been a very long time since you could recall being spoken to directly in such a manner. It was more the bickering between others in the palace that you were sometimes forced to be party to. Which was only another reason you often favored the relative isolation of the mortal world.

“You need not be so offended, stranger. I only came to see who had entered our land, and to protect my friends if need be.” You answered as reserved in tone as you could.

“Then you have done your duty, girl, and can now be gone. I came here to be alone. If I was actually intending to plunder this wasteland of nothingness, your little cohort never would have made it back to you to begin with.”

You stared, a little coldness entering your eyes then. So that was what had given you away. He’d already been aware of the river nymph to begin with, and had been waiting for someone to return the entire time while leaving that illusion of himself still in the clearing as distraction.

And he’d actually referred to you as ‘girl’. Did he really think you just one of the nymphs then? It was hard to say if he was intentionally trying to goad you, or if he really was so unfamiliar to not realize you for what you actually were.

You straightened a bit, replying, “Insults to our homeland aside, I will leave you to this quiet then, if you should at least tell me your name. You are clearly not of Olympus, and we still have right to know who it is who traverses into this particular land of mortals which we hold sovereignty over.”

He scoffed, clearly wishing to not speak to you even a moment longer. But in the way his chest puffed slightly, you thought it was only pride then that made him physically incapable of denying his identity.

He actually moved closer to you as well, that agitation still rising further in his voice. “Little fool, you stand before Loki! Son of Odin the Allfather. I am god of mischief, prince of Asgard. Your witless mortals should count their blessings that an Asgardian should ever see fit to even set foot here!”

You didn’t know if you’d been quick enough to mask the true surprise from your face. You had already assumed him a god. But never...never had you actually laid eyes on an Asgardian. They never came to this part of the world as far as you knew. And was he telling the truth? Was he really a son of Odin?

This stranger’s arrogance aside, if he were a child of Odin, you knew your own father would be furious with you if you were intentionally insulting now. Asgard and Olympus had never had the closest ties, but you were not enemies either. Asgard was honored by the mortals of the north, and Olympus still honored by those of the south, though perhaps not quite as much as the true olden days.

It took real will, but you bowed graciously to him in return. “It is an honor to meet you then, Loki, son of Odin.” As you straightened up, in his eyes you could see he was trying to judge you as sincere or not. But you just continued smoothly. “As promised, I shall leave you to your thoughts then. But I would be unmannered to not offer my assistance should you need a hostess in your time here as a guest in our land. My name is (Y/N), daughter of-”

You hesitated only the briefest moment, “of the sea,” is what you decided on though. Unlike Loki, you preferred a little anonymity with strangers. You didn’t wish to be targeted just for your lineage.

And with that, you turned, beginning to walk back towards the beach, even as you finished talking. “If you should need me, you need only find the sea’s edge and call for me. One of our creatures will hear you soon enough and seek me out.”

But some odd part of you regretted not being able to see his expression as you left. You wondered if you only would have seen more disdain and condescension at your offer.

Regardless, he said nothing else and soon enough you were back on the sand, the nymphs chittering in a mix of horror and awe around you.

“Who does he think he is, speaking to you that way!?”

“Do you really think he’s of Asgard? Shouldn’t we alert your father?”

“Why would he even come here? He seemed so bitter. Do you think they cast him out?”

“I’d cast him out, with a dirty attitude like that!”

You looked to the horizon, just taking a breath. “I don’t think we need to rush and tell my father just yet. But I do know where I want to go now.” You looked to the river nymph briefly though, “Please have those in the forest keep a distant eye on him. Should he leave or do anything else of note, please let us know.”

You glanced back to the sea nymphs then. “The rest of you return to the oceans. I’m going to Olympus, to the libraries there. I want to find out more about Asgard, to see if he is who he says he is. I’ll return to the water soon.”

They all nodded, “Yes, milady. Please let us know what you find!”

“I will,” you agreed, just watching them dissolve back into the waves.

Were you excited perhaps? Or just very curious? Nothing interesting in this way had happened in ages. You were determined to learn all you could on this new arrival.

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The Olympians had been a little surprised to see you gracing the halls there. So many of your cousins had dropped in time and again to say hello, curious themselves of why you were out of the water this long and seemingly such a bookworm all of the sudden.

And you did read for days. All you could find on Asgard, on Odin, the Norse mortals, and their language. You found record that Odin had born two sons, honestly an oddly low number you thought in comparison to the many children of your own kings.

But there in these tomes, were those two names, Thor and Loki. Thor, god of thunder, amusing of course in comparison to Zeus, king of all, including lightning. But also Loki, god of mischief, just as he’d said.

You were surprised, but enthralled as you actually found a drawing of Loki within the book. Though not completely accurate you thought, you still recognized that type of clothing. The green and gold, and the pale skin and black hair with his icy blue eyes. You tilted your head a little, looking at the gold helmet he wore in the artist’s depiction, with long horns curving from it like those of a great beast.

Was he really a beast? Or just a too arrogant manchild? And why did you increasingly wish to find out?

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(Continued in next chapter here)

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