Lately, I’ve had a terrible time setting a posting schedule that keeps conflicting with my folks’ plans. I’m like the resident errand girl… Now, especially now, I understand the pain of Nick and his pupils when the court makes them do whatever because no one else wants to.
Anyhow, I’m back and back on schedule. No more mess-ups dragging me back to a previous post, no sirree! Oh, and again, don’t mind the extra entries I through in there just for sharing. I got at least one viewer who has yet to play through the English versions of these next games.
If only I knew how to be funny when I have nothing to say, though…
Me during maths class:
This is also being cross-posted on ao3 if you prefer to read there.
Original fairy tale romance, under a read more for length so it doesn’t clog your dash <3
Current Rating: M for mature themes (Although this chapter is more like T)
Magic has existed longer than the universe as we know it. After all, how else did all come to be?
So many deny its existence it was no surprise the parents of a child such as Maeve were blind to what she really was. As the years went on, they only became more perplexed.
Test after test, therapist after therapist, specialist after specialist, and they still had little idea what to make of Maeve. To their daughter’s credit, she accepted their search with little resentment, allowing that they were merely concerned. It all came from a place of love, and so she cooperated, even if she wondered why any of it was necessary.
“NOT GOOD NOT GOOD NOT GOOD!!!”
Luz sprinted through the trees, the creature hot on her heels. She’d lost Eda somewhere in the darkness after the initial attack, thrown in opposite directions when it had leapt at them from above.
“Shrieking caterwaul!” Eda grabbed her staff, already swinging fireballs into the creature’s side.
“Isn’t that redundant?!”
The caterwaul opened its mouth and let out a screech, sending them both to their knees.
“POINT TAKEN! Totally appropriate name,” she yelled, holding her hands over her ears.
“Get out of here, kid, I’ll hold it off!” She swung another fireball into it, lighting up the forest around them.
Luz hid behind a tree, trying to quiet her breathing. The caterwaul stalked past her, malachite eyes reflecting the moonlight, breath coming out in visible huffs. It stood before her, facing away.
Nearly griffin-sized, the caterwaul looked like a hairless cat with a sabretooth jaw. Its skin pulled tight against its bones, and every ridge and rib was visible on its body. Something near the stomach area moved, pressing outwards against the skin like a hand. Luz squeaked- and whirled around the tree as the caterwaul spun around at the sound. She held her hands over her mouth, listening to the creature take one step, and then another- and then took off running, setting off an ice glyph to block its path.
She heard the ice shatter behind her and ran faster. Trees flew by, branches cracking under her feet, cloak flapping behind her- and then the ground gave out from beneath her.
She dropped into the crevice, wincing as she hit the sides as she fell. A giant claw slapped the ground above her head, narrowly missing, the caterwaul letting out another angry, deafening screech.
The crevice opened up and she tumbled to the ground, landing hard on her hands and knees.
“Well there go those leggings,” she muttered to herself, brushing the dirt away from the rips. She looked around the tunnel, only barely able to see the night sky from where she’d fallen, the caterwaul still growling up above. “Now that we’re away from that…let’s see what we’re working with here…”
She set off a light glyph, taking in the emptiness of the space around her.
“Hm. Left…or right?” She raised the light higher, looking between the two sides. “Wait-” She looked between the orb of light and the left path- where the light flowed out towards it like a stream. “Weird…” She set off another set of light glyphs in quick succession, the new orbs floating up and leaking light with the first. “Left it is!”
The left path drifted further downwards and then opened into a larger cave, the rocks surrounding Luz iridescent under the glow of her orbs. One by one, they all began to sputter out, the light continuing to stream forward.
“Hey, no- wait!!” She pulled more light glyphs from her pouch, activated them and chased the new stream of light. She stumbled to a stop at the sight of another forest, trees scattered here and there, all of them as bare of leaves as the trees above. She followed the light again, staring around at the new varieties of trees, some of them similar to the palisman trees aboveground, others in new varieties of colors, blues swirling into browns, purple trees so dark they seemed to almost glow black in the light of her glyph. “What is this place…”
Ahead of her, there was a bright glow. She squinted as she approached, the orbs she’d lit again leeching their light forward into a fallen tree. Old, weathered and gray…and glowing with her magic. She kneeled down and reached her hand towards it reverently, knowing-
“LUZ! I swear to the titan, if you did anything to her, you overgrown mongrel-”
Luz’s head snapped up at the sound of Eda’s voice close by, followed by the sound of the caterwaul shrieking angrily again. She touched the wood gently for a moment- “I’ll be back for you, I promise.”
Happy Birthday, Little Star (Jotaro Kujo fic)
The dark haired male was feeling a bit jovial despite his expression didn’t showed a single bit of it, well, people did find him weird once he was unconsciously smiled to himself that one time due to his constant 24/7 stoic, cool and cool stature but someone else had broken through that, to be precise, you had broken through the tough delinquent persona he built for so long.
Looking down to the set of gifts he held in his embrace, the large man wasn’t sure that it was enough to convey his love for you and maybe the piling gifts were an overkill to his wallet but it’s you, his precious darling, his little Star, a nickname he uses when it’s just the both of you and maybe Star Platinum giving a rush of affections ones that he can’t display publicly and letting out small cute ‘Ora’s here and there
Easing up, his large calloused hand reached up to the doorknob of the apartment you two shared after establishing the love line between your hearts. The door made a small creak as it opened before the male popped his head in, only to be greeted by his little Star’s figure in his line of sight, swaying from side to side and he could briefly hear the tune that they were humming. He carefully held the gifts in his one arm while the other closed the door behind him quietly before strutting over to your direction.
Taking out Star Platinum, he handed the gifts to his stand and had him placed the bundle of decoratively wrapped boxes on to the dining table. Inching closer and closer to your figure, he stopped just a few centimeters behind you just to only gingerly close your eyes with his hands, his palm feeling your eyelashes fluttering against him.
With soft smile, he whispered “Happy Birthday, Little Star”
Gift for @thisbloghasnoaesthetic ✨✨
Aaaaa I hope that you like what I wrote in a short amount of time!! I didn’t had enough papers for me to draw anything special so I went ahead and wrote this for you! Happy 20th birthday Mo and I hope that you’ll be having the best day today ever!❤❤
Premise: Gordon & decompression sickness
My muse has been playing nice - kinda… So you get another fast update! Even though I should be heading for bed…
Gordon awoke slowly.
Heavy eyelids were gradually forced open, and a fuzzy scene greeted him.
Was he in the infirmary back on Tracy Island?
Blinking, he noticed what appeared to be a bag of fluids hanging. Following the IV, he saw the port in his arm and a body next to his hand.
Gordon’s eyesight focused on the face that was resting near his hand, their eyes closed.
“S-sc…” he tried to whisper but immediately regretted it as a coughing fit ensued, sending fire throughout his chest. Gordon suddenly realized an oxygen mask covered his face, quickly making him feel claustrophobic.
“Gordon!” he heard his eldest brother call out.
The second youngest tried to paw away at the oxygen mask on his face as he gasped for air, not understanding what was happening.
“Gordon, you have to leave the mask on,” Scott instructed as he gently but firmly held the aquanaut in place.
Another set of strong hands suddenly pushed him down. “Gordon, look at me,” he heard the deep voice demand. His amber eyes blinked and finally met the concerned gaze of his brother Virgil. Where did he come from?
“Gordon, take a slow depth breath. Follow me, okay?” Virgil demonstrated as he instructed Gordon to follow his own breathing pattern.
Slowly Gordon felt his breathing relax as he felt the forced oxygen reaching his lungs. His chest burned, but he was finding it easier to breathe.
“You with us, Fishface?” Scott questioned, his sapphire eyes searching Gordon’s face in worry.
Gordon nodded slowly, relaxing his body into the bed as fatigue overwhelmed him suddenly. “W-what happened?”
“What do you remember?”
Gordon searched his brain.
Did something happen to Thunderbird 4?
Had he been on a mission?
Why couldn’t he think or remember?
“It’s okay. Confusion is a normal side effect of decompression sickness, Gords,” Virgil reassured. “We had to fish you out of the ocean when Thunderbird Four started acting up. You didn’t decompress appropriately on the way up. It was scary for a bit, but we got you in the chamber. You’ve been unconscious for a while. Once it was safe to remove you from the chamber, Grandma instructed that we move you inside here to the house infirmary.”
“We just forced Grandma to bed,” Scott smirked as he noticed Gordon’s eyes searching the room apprehensively. “Took some convincing.”
“More than some,” Virgil quipped. “How are you feeling?”
Gordon took in another puff of oxygen and groaned. “My chest feels like it’s on fire.”
“I’m not surprised,” Virgil mused and looked at his watch. “I can give you something to help. Anything else to report?”
“My body aches, but that makes sense now if it’s the bends,” Gordon replied honestly.
Virgil began pushing the painkiller into his IV. Once finished, he eyed Gordon’s monitor and was satisfied with his little brother’s levels. “Your stats are looking good, and your oxygen saturation is getting better each hour. I’d say we’re through the worst of it. You’ll be good as new in a few days.”
“Next time, just save us big brothers the trouble, though. Okay?” Scott said, gripping Gordon’s shoulder. “I, for one, could go without another few gray hairs.”
Gordon smiled. “Now, what’s the fun in that?” he mused, earning two danger glares.
Virgil grew a devilish grin on his face. “Don’t worry, Scott. Grandma’s cooking for the next few days should be a good enough reminder.”
Scott chuckled. “That’s right! She did mention something about making a batch of cookies.”
Gordon’s eyes grew in horror. “I take it back! You wouldn’t leave the wounded so vulnerable now, would you?”
“We’ll think about it,” Virgil simpered, noticing Gordon was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. “Get some rest. We’re not going anywhere.”
Gordon nodded as he took in another puff of oxygen. “Thanks for having my back, guys. I don’t really remember, but it sounds like you saved my tail today.”
“Don’t mention it, squirt,” Scott smiled. “Get some rest.”
Gordon finally closed his eyes, allowing sleep to claim him. The comfort of knowing his two big brothers were there to watch over him made him feel like a kid again, and for once, he was okay with it.
SEE - I fixed him!! Squid is all better - well getting there :D
So it was that upon that day when the princess was laid to bed, she did not sleep.
She closed her eyes to the world and began to pretend.
Pretend to not hear the whispers of the maids putting away the last of her jewels.
Pretend to ignore her mother’s soft hands gliding through her hair.
Pretend to ignore her father’s prayers at her bedside.
She resisted the urge to eat, stand up, or even call out. She pretended to sleep until she truly passed into Morpheus’ embrace and when she awoke once more she kept her eyes closed until she passed back and forth between these two states for years to come.
This was how the tale of the sleeping beauty came to be.
For by some mystical means she did not age, nor wither away as long as she remained in her bed.
And once you put on a show long enough the show begins to become real.
The mask becomes flesh. And the lie becomes truth.
So her sleep which began as a mysticism to give the people hope became truth, and the sleeping beauty awaited the one who would awaken her to bring a new age upon the kingdom.
(But in all honesty when the prince arrived to wake her up he was quite the fool. Mind filled with grand adventures and desire to see the world the princess let him go and leave, rather than stay and fall in love. Instead, the princess took up the reigns of the throne herself and through her competency brought the kingdom to its Golden Age.)
steo + cardinal sins
They’re in Theo’s truck, running to god knows where - away, drive far away, Stiles pleaded earlier in panic.
He’s calm now - as serene as a sea before a storm.
His phone rings for the umpteenth time. He can continue ignoring it, but he takes pity on Josh. He looked more frightened than Stiles was when Theo hopped into his car and declared he was leaving with Stiles.
He swipes, and the call connects. Josh breathes in a loud relief and immediately barrages on. “Theo, finally! What the hell, man? What the fuck’s going - ”
He’s cut off, and a second later, another voice blares through the speaker: female and outraged. “We better not be forfeiting our mission just to help your human bitch, Theo Raeken, because I swear to - ”
Theo rolls his eyes; he’s already bored with them. “Just trust me,” he says placidly.
Tracy scoffs in high pitch on the other end, “Trust you? Trust you! You son of - ”
He ends the call and turns his phone off. He glances at his rearview and finds Josh’s silver Highlander still tailing them. He smirks in sick satisfaction. No matter what they say, they’ll follow Theo anyway. They’re a pair of headless chickens without him.
He tilts his head to the passenger’s side where Stiles sits, clenching and unclenching his hands and jaw. They’ve been quiet apart from the sound of their breathing. “Do you have a destination in mind now?”
“Just drop me off in another ten miles, then you can leave,” Stiles replies in monotone.
Theo lifts a brow, “Where would I go?”
“Back to your life,” Stiles replies, not looking at Theo once. His voice is gruff - bitter, indignant. “And the pack you still have.”
Theo allows a moment before he offers. “You can come with us,”
That gives Stiles a pause. Theo glances at him briefly and catches the scowl on his face. “You don’t have to help me anymore. I won’t tell your pack about Donovan,”
A smirk slides into place, and then a dark chuckle, “Bold of you to assume they don’t already know. And frankly, they don’t care,”
They enter a dark, deserted road; Josh and Tracy following close. Theo turns to Stiles when his heartbeat begins picking up again - his emotions surging once more. The boy’s face pinches, “Why are you helping me?”
“Why did you need my help?” Theo returns equally.
Stiles’s nose flares up, and his eyes flash. His previous calm suddenly gives way to a violent rage taking over his body - it’s exquisite to behold. All the potential of this ferocity is making Theo breathless with desire.
“They’ve been waiting for me to make a mistake so it would seem justifiable,” he snarls, eyes wet and shaking. He’s so perfect. “Scott wants to lock me in Eichen House - they all do - because I outlived an attempted murder. He doesn’t believe it’s self-defense because of what I am, the pompous, righteous - ”
Stiles cuts himself off sharply as Theo veers to the side of the road. He faces Theo, angry tears running down from his eyes - desolation and fury blurring together. “He’s my best friend!”
Theo notices the car stopping behind them, but his attention is rapt on Stiles. He’s beautiful as a whirlpool is in its way - an impelling force drawing Theo in. The chimera reaches a hand to his neck, rubbing at the soft skin under his touch. “Not anymore,” he tells Stiles matter-of-factly, unsympathetic.
“They fear me,” Stiles sneers, one hand coming up to grasp at the fabric of Theo’s jacket. “And think I’m dangerous.”
“They should because you are,”
His face contorts, “I’m not going back to that wretched place,”
Whether he means Beacon Hills, Eichen House, the convention center, or his pack, Theo doesn’t bother finding out. Maybe it’s all of those.
“You don’t have to,” Theo says in earnest. He inhales the murky air surrounding the car and feels himself shudder. He holds the boy tighter. “Come with us. Stay with me.”
Stiles doesn’t speak for the duration of when he runs his eyes all over Theo’s face. There’s a new scent - exclusively for Theo - permeating the atmosphere. Theo leans closer, wetting his lips in anticipation. Stiles’s eyes stray to his mouth and linger. He stares as he nods and whispers, “Where?”
wrath - n. strong vengeful anger or indignation
I’m starting to run out of material here, and I’m not sure where I was going with this. But here, enjoy what I have left! It picks up where we left off:
“And that’s why you’re here, Miss Luthor.”
The Colonel opened her file, and began flipping through the pages.
“I’ve been reading up on your previous involvement with the DEO in the past year, and I’ve learned that you successfully synthesized kryptonite.”
Lena kept her mouth shut.
“I’d like to talk about that.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. I surrendered all my synthetic material to the DEO in exchange for continued participation in the Worldkiller project. My notes and protocols were surrendered as well.”
The Colonel nodded. “Trouble is, our top minds haven’t been able to successfully recreate your results.”
Only then did Lena smirk. “Well, that’s hardly my fault, is it?”
Haley’s face hardened minutely, and Lena quickly moved on.
“I don’t have any further stores of green Kryptonite. It was either depleted battling Reign or bequeathed to the DEO per the terms of my agreement with Supergirl. You want it, take it up with her.”
“You misunderstand me, Miss Luthor. I’m not interested in green kryptonite.”
Realization poured over Lena in a flood of electricity. Every nerve stood on end, and her jaw tightened in reflex. But she held Haley’s gaze, and refused to speak first.
“Says here the DEO ran into a sample of kryptonite that was black in color. It did cause Supergirl discomfort on contact, but I’m more interested in the effect it had on the young woman who held it in her bare hand.”
Lena regarded the Colonel with an even gaze. Haley smirked. “And before you claim you don’t know anything about this black kryptonite– don’t bother. I know that you manufactured more so that Supergirl could send it home to her mother.”
“I wasn’t going to deny anything,” Lena returned easily. “The DEO has all my research on the harun’el, just like they do the green kryptonite.”
“How to make it, sure. And our people are doing their best to follow along. But I want to know your research on the… human applications.”
Lena didn’t need more than a look to make her decision.
“I have none.”
“And that’s where I stop believing you, Miss Luthor.”
Lena shrugged. “That’s the thing about science, Colonel. It’s not about what you believe. It’s about fact. And the fact is that I don’t have anything to share with you.”
That made Haley pause. The room fell quiet, and Lena suffered the Colonel’s gaze for as long as it took. When the Colonel pushed back from the table, she was too smug for Lena to feel any kind of victory.
“You’ve worked with the DEO before, Miss Luthor. You’re familiar with our protocols: we appreciate efficiency too much to beat around the bush.”
Lena didn’t bother to respond. The Colonel motioned to the guard standing watch at the door. The man opened the hatch, and a cart came rolling in. On it sat a tank of blue fluid, in which a distinctly alien life form floated.
“Allow me to be perfectly honest with you, Lena– and please allow my candor to encourage reciprocity. This alien is what we call an interrogative aid. As soon as it makes contact with your skin, you will be compelled to reveal any hidden truths they may seek to hide.”
Lena swallowed. Her started to pound– she could handle a repartee, but the illegal application of alien organisms was another matter entirely. Though Lena kept her features neutral, Haley seemed to sense her growing alarm.
“It may cause some discomfort, but only if you resist. I recommend you don’t– I understand such efforts to be… futile.” The Colonel regarded her coolly. “I would rather not have to use it at all.”
Lena met Haley’s gaze with a determined glare of her own.
I don’t have any more written, but I do know where I intended to take it:
After the confrontation at Niagara falls, Lora runs back to Metropolis. She doesn’t know why, exactly– she just knows that she can’t go home, and no one else in her life will let her be angry with Kara: they would try to justify her mother’s actions, try to explain it all away, and act like Kara was only doing what was best for Lora, as though that excuses the mistakes Kara made in the way she did it.
So she goes to Metropolis, and seeks out the only person she hopes won’t send her back home: Lena.
And though Lena isn’t thrilled to see the girl on her doorstep– again– she’s not immune to the tears that gather instantly in Lora’s eyes at the sight of her, as she tries to explain how she ran away. And once she hears that Lora has run away, Lena reluctantly allows the girl to stay the night.
Oh, she doesn’t want anything to do with her, this child who looks almost exactly like her, save for the brown eyes that blink up at her when Lena slides her a plate of the pasta primavera she makes for dinner. But Lena isn’t cruel– or maybe she is, but she’s not the kind of person who can turn away a child in need. And that’s what Lora is in this moment: if Lena ignores who she is and what she represents and the manner of her conception– she’s just another child in need.
But later that night, when Lena brings her a blanket so she can sleep on the couch, Lora hugs the blanket to her chest and apologizes.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “For what my mom did to you. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” Tears finally break free, and she sobs. “She might have lied that you loved me, but she didn’t lie about who you were.”
“What do you mean?” Lena is wary of the tears, doesn’t know quite what to do about them. She stands awkwardly some distance away, unable to bring herself to offer any comfort.
Lora sniffles. “She said you were kind, and she was right. I stole everything from you, and here you are helping me.”
Lena stares at her for a long moment, her features caught somewhere between touched and horrified. In the end, all she can do is brush it off.
“It’s just a blanket,” she replies coolly. Without a further word she turns and disappears into her bedroom. Lora tries to ignore the sound of the lock clicking into place between them.
They are the best
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Reblogged if you found your blog
[Still third this i will made again]
Julian stood in the door of his rooms, frowning. The Witcher from the courtyard was standing outside, talking to the stable hand about retrieving his horse. Part of him couldn’t be sure, but there had been a truth to the story he told. A story about a bard in a tavern in Posada and a brooding Witcher.
But he didn’t call him “brooding”? That tune that had felt like it was wrapped around Jaskier’s ribs started squeezing his throat again and his heart ached and he thought of white hair and gold eyes that were sometimes black but the memory was gone before he could understand it.
There were things missing… someone was missing and it felt like half of his life was full of more holes than a sieve. Then he saw that Witcher.
Julian grabbed his pack, nearly untouched since he had returned to Oxenfurt last Fall and his lute case.
The Witcher had mentioned a sorceress whose name made him wince without reason. This Yennefer of Vengerberg.
|So tell me love, tell me love
How is that just?” he murmured softly then stopped… What was that?
There was a blinding flair of pain behind his eyes that nearly sent his knees from under him before he caught himself on the frame of the door that led into the street.
“Jas-” the Witcher scowled. “Julian. Are you alright?” Julian was beginning to wonder if all Witchers were this cantankerous or was his just special.
No. Not his… Not… He had to shake off another spike of pain from behind his eyes again and carefully slipped on a smile.
“I’m fine. I think you were going to take me to a witch?”
Geralt. That was his name. He had given it back in the courtyard. Geralt looked at him and his face was unreadable but he made a short humming sound that Julian couldn’t quite understand.
You know what that means… some part of him whispered softly.
No, he thought. No, that was the other bard that knew. I don’t know this man and I doubt he knows me.