#please help warcats

[warcats-cat]

Hey theatre Tumblr friends!! I'm looking for some bootlegs, willing to trade, possibly purchase a master file. I'm currently looking for two in particular:

- Anastasia with Veronica Stern playing Anya (I know it's a tall ask because it's new, so masters please link me/dm me 👀👀)

- Winnie the Pooh musical with Jake Bazel as Pooh Bear (I've been trying to get this for over a year; the last person I spoke with never confirmed my purchase, so PLEASE please help me get a boot with him. 🥺🥺 And possibly his autograph...)

I just got a pretty decent video of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with Christian Borle, although I don't know the dates for it. And I have a good folder of stuff if interested in trading, just send me a dm.

Please friends I'm getting so desperate...

#warcats rambles #broadway bootlegs #bootleg search #slime tutorial #Anastasia musical #anastasia second national tour #veronica stern #bryan seastrom #willem butler #winnie the pooh musical #jake bazel #blease #please help warcats

[astralarias]

please talk about your characters! i don't mind who i just wanna hear you ramble about your toons <3

Aaa thank you!! 🥺

Since I just posted a gifset of her, I'll talk a little about Aikarico, my beloved warcat, and her backstory <3

She came remarkably close to having a completely different life! Her parents were critical of the Legions as a whole and had plans to leave after the birth of their cub, as fleeing & traveling would be too strenuous on Electra (Aika's mother) during her pregnancy. Their goal was to reach Lion's Arch and settle down as a family.

However, mere weeks before Aikarico was born, her father, Theo, was killed on patrol by a Flame Legion ambush. Electra was heartbroken, and after Aikarico was born she didn't have the strength to flee the Legions alone - only to give Aikarico as much love as she could in the time they had. Being an only child, Aikarico was incredibly clingy and a very shy, sweet cub who rarely left her mother's side.

When it came time for her to join the Fahrah, she didn't cope well. Ripped from her mother's warm embrace into a world of survival of the fittest, she struggled - bullied endlessly by her peers for her softness. Until she wasn't. Until she forced herself to get tough, against her every instinct. She fought back with fang and claw, so no-one would ever hurt her again.

Her mother had promised she'd visit. She never did. Aikarico grew up believing she had been abandoned without reason by the only person who had loved her for her, not knowing the truth - Electra had died shortly after Aikarico left her side, falling ill and not having the strength to recover.

By the time she reached adulthood, Aikarico had become an arrogant, defiant problem for her warband and superiors, and had no intention of changing. It was a mask, but one she could no longer tell where it ended and she began any more. She had stopped trying to take it off long ago.

However, her higher-ups weren't about to let such subordination slide for much longer, especially after her stunts to prove herself as bigger, better, stronger, resulted in casualties in the field more than once. She always knew better, and nothing was ever her fault. It couldn't be - she was flawless, because if she wasn't, she was nothing.

After a string of complaints from her warbandmates, Aikarico was made a gladium. As the verdict was dealt, though, she stood tall and announced she was leaving, anyway, so there - you can't fire me, I quit! Denounced as a traitor and disappointment, she fled the Legions - just as her parents had meant to do all those years ago, albeit with a twist.

From there, she wandered Tyria, taking up jobs for bandits and thieves - anyone who would pay, at first - but eventually building up a reputation as a skilled assassin. She hung around human lands for a while - the least charr place she could think of, although she still held herself as charr in far-too-high regard. Among certain shady circles, she gained notoriety. If you wanted someone dead, she was the cat for the job. She was never happy, but she was feared and respected, and that was enough for a time.

Eventually she grew bored and set on the road again, winding up in the Desolation after a few years. Here, she worked with the Order of Shadows alongside her regular assassination jobs - she never became an official member, but she was known throughout the ranks as "that arrogant charr who thinks too much of herself".

During the events of Path of Fire, she was given a mark that would change her life once again; the Commander. She never did find out who put her on the job - it was all very secretive - but it payed well, and she knew to kill him would bolster her legend beyond all belief and hope. She took it without a second thought.

She followed Atlaki for days. Watched his every move, as he stopped amid the carnage to...help people? Didn't he have a god to catch? Why would he stop and show such...weakness?

She was horribly intrigued. And besides, maybe she was a little bored of the desert too, now. The Desolation was all moody skies and sulfur. Even killing here was getting dull.

So, finally, she engaged her target. But instead of shooting him from some perch, she appeared to his face and demanded he fight her. She was somewhat hurt when he appeared more tired than anything, but he agreed - and promptly kicked her ass. Okay, now she was impressed...although, of course, her losing was totally all part of her plan.

She introduced herself, told him she was meant to kill him but kind of didn't want to do that anymore, and she'd be helping him out from now on. A paw was offered to shake, and Atlaki - deciding this odd charr wasn't the worst or strangest thing to fall from the sky in recent times - took it.

Thus began Aikarico's looong, winding path to becoming a better, and certainly more tolerable person - someone her parents would be beyond proud to see flourish, with Atlaki's influence. She remains proud, arrogant, even but it's genuine now and not so much of a mask. She's charismatic, brash, and herself. She has the family she always needed, in Atlaki, and Cassien, and Aurene.

#sorry for the NOVEL but I love my girl so dearly #aikarico #oc talk tag #thank you again anon!!

[wc-confessions]

Hi, I don’t usually come to confessions blogs for like mental health reasons but I’m the author of Follow Your Heart and i was told it was being discussed on here so I wanted to come talk about it myself.

I started writing the comic when I was in highschool, so I was a child myself. (I don’t remember my exact age, just that I remember drawing concept art while hanging out in my school’s library) That’s why the original “drama” thing was there between Mouseclaw and Sootpaw. Spottedleafs Heart came out and it was so bad that it made me re-examine that part of the story. Warriors romantizes relationships with age gaps like Soot and Mouse all the time, hence why I probably didn’t think anything of it back then. (See: Dustfern, Bramblesquirrel)

Yes, there are scenes where it’s implied the characters have had sex. There is absolutely nothing explicit however, and I have some bad news for the original anon about how babies were made if they’re that upset about it, because literally every child born in the series implies the characters had sex lol. Its even implied Daisy and Spiderleg had a one night stand! (He specifically says their kits were an accident!)

I also don’t appreciate the implications of what they were saying as someone who was traumatized by actual zooporn w real animals as a young child. That kind of thing is exactly the reason I don’t post or advertise my comic on twitter or tumblr, I knew I’d get accused of that shit. Idk if the original anon is reading this but please think about what you say before you say it :/

I’m a human being and I’m not perfect. But I like to think I’m doing okay, since multiple CSA survivors have shared their stories in my comments and thanked me for making the comic (im not trying to toot my own horn, im simply stating facts- i dont want to pat my own ass or anything) and I also had a CSA survivor as a beta reader of the comic.

I don’t think Spottedleaf experienced actual sexual abuse if that’s what the other anon was implying, I just think that the story was a VERY bad example of grooming and it was what inspired me to do better.

 I’m doing this specifically because if there is the BAREST fucking chance I can educate a kid and keep them out if this situation, I want to take it. I feel incredibly strongly about this topic and that’s why I wanted to do something about it. I said this in a page description, but I was provided very little education on this in school, in fact I can only concretely remember one video and I have a vague idea that there was one other thing I was shown to educate about CSA- compared to the abstinence-only sex education that was drilled in my head from like, 6th to 9th grade. I’m just a blip in the sea of warcats comics on dA, but I can at least try my best to help where I can.

I have a warning page up that talks about the subject matter which is what I’m sure you saw, but I go a little more in depth in the description of chapter 5’s cover.

I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but I genuinely deeply appreciate you not immediately trying to crucify me when that anon came to your inbox. Like I said, there’s a reason I don’t advertise on tumblr. I really really appreciate you taking a neutral stance until you knew more. Thank you, it means a lot. :) sorry for the very long ask, haha.

thank you for your response and its no problem. in these sorts of situations its always best to pretty much get your own info so i took it very seriously. im very sorry about all that and dont hesitate to lmk if youd rather not be spoken about on here i'd completely understand.

#trying my best to minimize talk about creators anyway since lately they get out of hand or people spread misinfo #atp i just think its the right thing since Most ppl cant rlly handle simple discussions #not a confession #text #asks #nitethekitten #really sorry you had to come over here :[

[thecrowslullaby]

The five stages of losing Roman

Special thanks to @dystopiagnome and @talking4the1 (who were my artist for the @sandersidesbigbang) for the wonderful pictures and their patients in waiting for updates. Please go check out their artworks they are the most wonderful things I have seen. Shout out to @8beez (my big bang beta) as well as @warcats-cat and @lost-in-thought-20 for proofreading the ficlet <3 And my biggest thanks to @lickoutyourbrains who not only proofread but also helped construct half of the plot of this fic in discord DMs <3.

I'm posting this as a oneshot but I do want to continue it once i have time :D!

Warnings: main character death (Roman), gave robbing, discussion of death, loss of loved one, grief, panic attacks, struggling with self worth and identity, falling out with loved ones, bouts of anger. Pairings: (past) LAMP

Fog lay heavily and Logan could barely see beyond his outstretched hand as he stumbled towards. It almost felt as if the white smoke that swirled around him wished him harm. Pulling and pushing at his legs, tripping him with every step, twirling him around until he wasn’t sure which way was forward. He felt it filling his lungs with thick air until it felt like he could barely breathe. The cold radiating from his skin and seeping into the core of his bones. 

It felt…terrifying.

It felt irrational. Logan corrected himself. 

He knew it was irrational.

There was nothing dangerous about the cemetery, save from occasional tripping hazard caused by stray roots stretching along the uneven ground.

No. It was not this place Logan truly feared. It was what would come after: the consequences of his elaborate plan. Whether he'dll succeed or not, there will no doubt be repercussions. He had already broken half of the town's unspoken laws by coming here and if luck has it he'll manage to break them all by the end of tonight. All he really could hope for was that all the risk he took was not in vain, as he stumbled through the dead of the night.

He didn’t expect it to be this quiet. There wasn’t a single sound reaching his ears save for his feet hitting the soft ground. Serving as yet another reminder that he was doing this alone.

He really wished it wasn’t the case. That Patton and Virgil had come with him. As disappointing as it was, it wasn’t surprising. Ever since Roman's illness the four of them drifted apart.

Patton smiled less, and the grins he did choose to wear always seemed so strained and sad. Virgil was biting his thumb again when he thought no one was looking. Harder and harder until he had to wrap his fingers in bandages. And Roman… he tried to be so brave, so optimistic through it all as his eyes sank and muscles shrank, until he looked like the shell of a man they used to know, covered in dying flowers.

They almost became strangers through it all and Logan was going to do everything in his might to bring his family back together. To see Patton smiling with that glint in his eyes, to have Virgil relax his shoulders and have Roman come running through the front door, lifting them both up in a warm hug, laughter filling their kitchen once again. And if it meant making himself an outcast at best and a… well… he was willing to take that risk to see his family be happy and whole again.

And that’s how he found himself traveling the cemetery with only the dimmest of light seeping through the fog to guide his way, looking for something the townsfolk didn’t dare whisper about. Logan knew asking them was a necessary cost, but it didn't mean he was looking forward to it. His mind only sank deeper into unease as he stumbled on a stray root, falling forward. His hands hit the ground, soft grass pushing through between his fingers. A careless mistake that sent his heart racing. Logan tried to calm his breath again. He glared at his fingers, now most likely stained with dirt.

It took him a few moments to notice how clear they looked. When he lifted his head, he was able to see the tombstones around him. Owlishly blinking, he realized the fog had retreated. Not vanished, retreated. For when he turned around, he could still see it swirling a few steps behind him. Single strands of fog reaching out to grab at his feet before retreating back into the white mass of smoke.

Disconcerting was  the best way to describe it. But as uneasy as the clear air  made him feel, for some reason he was glad to have left the fog. He didn’t feel trapped anymore.

Logan took a look around, trying to find the source of the strange phenomenon. His eyes went wide when he spotted them. 

A short figure draped in black stood hunched over a cracked tombstone, the air around them clear of the smoke that covered the rest of a cemetery like a heavy blanket. They must have driven the smoke away.

And if they had the power to do so, Logan knew just who was standing in front of him. Not that he expected to find anyone else in the cemetery. Not at this hour of the night.

Logan gulped, fear creeping up his spine, ticking his nerves and screaming at him to get back. But he swallowed his fear. He needed to talk to them. That's why he came to the cemetery after all. Even standing here just a few feet away from them scared him more than he was willing to admit. 

It's just a human, he told himself firmly. It's only a human despite all the gossip and lies surrounding them.

"Graverobber." Logan made his presence known as he stood up from the ground, dusting himself off. He straightened his posture and a step forward when the figure made no indication that it had noticed him. "I need your help."

The witch chuckled as it rose to its full height. Limbs shifting and cracking under the dark cloth as if the bones themselves rearranged in their body with every move, the sound itself making his stomach turn.

Logan shook his head at the ridiculous notion. It was all Virgil's para- fear that seeped into his mind, poisoning his thoughts with delusions. 

He needed to focus on the facts.

The creature was nothing more than a human, but when the figure turned its head towards him Logan swore he saw a faint yellow glow. For a moment he almost thought it could have been their eyes, but it wasn't. Humans didn't have six eyes. It was his mind playing tricks on him. He could feel their stare on him as it spoke.

"Quite bold of you to call me a thief and then ask for my assistance."

They glided forward with soundless steps, their long cloak draping behind. If Logan wasn’t a man of science he would have thought them a ghost. 

The figure stopped just in front of him and Logan had to arch his head up to meet their eyes. Or where he believed their eyes to be.

It’s a human. He reminded himself. You know it will have only one set of eyes. 

"I wasn't trying to insult you." Logan reasoned "I was under the impression that's one of the many titles you're being called by."

"Called by, yes." The figure laughed. "It's not one I'm particularly fond of."

"How should I address you then?" 

"With a 'goodnight', preferably." The figure gave a slight bow before turning on its heel. 

Logan chased after them, grabbing the cloak. The figure stumbled, losing its unearthy aura for the first time that night. As strange as it was, it made Logan feel slightly more at ease. Grounding him in the belief the witch was only human.

The feeling didn’t last very long as soon the witch turned its head. And though Logan could not see their face he swore the glare it shot him was boring into his very soul. The uneasiness only amplified when he felt the fabric squirm in his grasp, eager to escape from between the fingers. Logan tightened his grip on the cloak.

Just a human. It’s just a human.

"Please." He risked everything he had away from this. He couldn't let them go. Not without at least trying to haggle with them. "Please, I need your help."

"That's what you all say." The figure sneered, turning around. "Heal me! Help me! Save me!" They took pointed steps until the only thing between them was Logan's fist, still gripping the witch's cloak. "But you'll all turn your heads around as soon as I'm done. Deeming me dirty, impure and wicked. Leaving me with blood on my hands and claiming to have been deceived. That the desires I acted on were my own."

"I-I wouldn't."

"I've heard enough lies in my life to smell them in the air," they sneered. 

"I-" Logan swallowed, steading his breath. "You don't want to be involved in a way that would require you to act out my wishes but-... would you be willing to assist me with only your knowledge?" 

The figure paused. And despite not being able to see their face Logan could feel them eyeing him up and down as if searching for… well, something. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what it was they wanted to find. 

“I was set on my plan before I set out to meet you. A plan three- two of my roommates are aware of. I wouldn’t be able to claim you were poisoning my mind.” He swore he felt something tense in its posture. “Even if I wanted to.”

The scientist released his hold on the fabric, deciding appearing hostile would not bode well. The shift in their posture was almost immediate, though subtle. They leaned back a little and Logan didn’t feel their glare with such an intensity anymore. He wouldn’t say it was trust, but it was something.

"What is it that you want?" Logan felt a smile creep onto his face as he heard curiosity in their voice. 

"I need to retrieve a body."

"A body?" 

"Roman Sanders’ body to be precise." Somehow saying corpse didn't feel… appropriate. 

The figure was silent for a while. Face obscured by the cloak. Logan couldn't make out their expression. 

"Disturbing the dead." They mused taking a step to the side. making Logan’s nerve spark up again. "I was under the impression that it's still frowned upon. Have I been gone from society for so long that the customs have changed?"

"No it-." Logan took a deep breath. "It's not illegal." Not officially at least. Not that the figure would care from what the townsfolk have told him. To the best of his knowledge law seldom seemed to chase it. But to Logan it made a difference. He wasn’t harming anyone, just choosing a different path in life than society dictated.

"hmmmm," The figure mused before taking to circling Logan. He could feel that bone chilling gaze on him again. "But it's still not wise, is it? Aren't you afraid to meddle with something so beyond the grasps of men? Aren't you afraid of the deceased? Respectful of them?" 

"I am respectful of the people who once inhabited the bodies, yes." Logan crossed his arms, silencing Patton's voice still booming in his mind to not dare speak of such blasphemy. To dare not to think of it. "But we both know that once a human dies their body is nothing more than a decaying piece of meat." A bold claim if he ever heard one but… it felt like the right thing to say.

And he must have been right to do so as the figure turned to him, something about its smile made Logan feel like he passed some unspoken test. 

Its smile. With a jolt of fear Logan realized he has been granted a glimpse of their features. 

Teeth.

Sharp and white. 

They seemed to be glowing with an almost unnaturally white shine. Bright enough one could almost be convinced they emitted a light of their own. 

"Aren't you an odd one?" They leaned closer and Logan couldn't take his eyes off the sharp bones littering their mouth. The more he looked at them the less human they looked. Sharp and long and Logan found himself wondering how easily the witch could bite into flesh and bon- "I like you." The creature purred and Logan willed himself not to take a step back. To stay and hold its gaze. It didn't sound like a good thing but he doubted running now would make a difference, so he liked his dry lips before speaking up again. 

"Will you help me then?" 

"I'll consider it." Logan opened his mouth but before he could utter a word the figure brought up a hand to stop him. If it could even be described as such. The bony fingers hiding under yellow gloves didn't look right. Far too long  and thin. And as he focused on them he swore he could see movement beneath the fabric. Almost as if the gloves were breathing. Rising up and down ever so slightly. It was hypnotizing to watch.

"Something tells me you're planning far more than grave robbing, aren't you?" Logan blinked, startled out of his thoughts and reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the strange claw-like hands. The face of the stranger was obscured again but he could still feel their gaze on him. That now familiar feeling of having his lungs be pierced through as the figure watched him. Waiting. 

Logan debated his answer. He wasn’t sure how wise it would be to tell them of his desires. On one hand being honest with them was a sure way to give the creature an upper hand. And he didn’t trust them enough to not fear they could use the knowledge against him. 

Then again he would need to reveal his plan eventually. And something told him telling lies to figure before him wasn’t something he should do. Somehow deceiving it didn't seem… wise. 

"I want to bring him back."

"Bring back to where?" The witch chuckled. "I'm not a mind reader, darling."

"To life."

Bones snapped under the cloak as their posture grew tense. And for a moment they were so still one could mistake them for a decaying tree. 

"You're insane." They hissed with such intensity he almost took a step back. 

"I've done my research." Logan stated, clenching his fists, trying to calm his racing heart down. Don’t panic, don’t panic. "I am certain it is entirely possible to revive a body-"

"Oh it's possible to revive a body alright." They shot their hands to the sides of the cloak. The fabric twirled around them like dark smoke. 

"And completely lunatic!" 

"I won't fail."

They glared at him. He couldn't see their eyes but he was sure of it. 

"Will you attempt it even if I say no?" 

"Yes." His own sincerity startled him. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand. The witch signed. A long and tired sound as they regarded Logan. 

"What will you do if you won't succeed?" 

"I won't fai-" 

"But if you do?" obscured eyes piercing Logan's very core. "What if you won't bring him back? What if you bring back something that isn't Roman?" 

Logan had to admit it was… plausible. More than likely if he were to be honest with himself. that he couldn't bring back Roman fully. That whatever he saved would only be a fraction of the man he loved. But he needed to try. And the sooner he started the more of a chance he had to succeed. 

The brain was a tricky organ and every minute Logan spent arguing it lay there decaying. 

He didn't want to admit how desperate he was but even winning a fragment of Roman back would be more than Logan should hope for. He had come so far, he needed to at least try, consequences be damned.

"I'll admit defeat and act however you deem fit in the situation." It seemed like a fair proposal. All Logan wanted back was Roman, and if he didn’t succeed… well. What was a body without a soul if not a decaying carcass?

The strange creature stared at him, long and unmoving before it finally turned around without a word, their cloak twirling around their feet with every step. Logan stared at them as it walked away until he felt fog hit his back, sending shivers down his spine as it tried to wrap itself around him again.

The scientist ran after it until he caught up to the figure. They walked in complete silence. Fog clearing away around them. Out of fear? Respect? It was such an odd thing to think. The fog couldn't have any feelings, yet Logan’s mind simply accepted the fact that it appeared to be sentient. 

"Dig," They said and Logan startled at the sudden noise that broke the silence. He snapped his head around to see them standing a few feet behind him. The display of fresh flowers under their feet felt far too familiar. 

“What?” The figure reached into their coat and brought out a shovel. Logan accepted it without another word.

The soil was wet and heavy, yet Logan dug. Slow and deliberate. Pushing downwards as the cloaked figure stared at him. 

His shoulders arms screamed in protest and shoulder ached the longer he dug, yet he persisted with gritted teeth. He didn't hit wood until his head peeked barely over the edge of the hole and Logan finally allowed his shoulder to relax a little.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to free the coffin from the clutches of earth. Metal scraping against wood until most of the dirt has been cleaned away. It felt like hours but the night seemed to stretch on. Dark and unmoving. 

His arms felt heavy when he finally pried the lid away. The body was swollen. It hadn't been long since they buried him but he swore he could feel the faintest smell of rot. 

The witch jumped down the hole, cloak flaring behind them. They slid their glove off and despite the dim light Logan swore he could see something bulging and swirling on their skin. Patches of it glowing a strange yellow. 

He hadn't managed to take a good look before the creature put their hand against Roman's forehead, soft golden glow seeping from their fingers, traveling down Roman's body in delicate swirls.

Logan watched in awe as the light turned into soft golden smoke ascending into the sky in soft, playful steaks until fading completely. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the display until he was sure it was truly gone. It looked so pretty. How strange.

By the time he turned towards the witch they had already put the glove back on obscuring whatever it was Logan saw on their skin.

"He's not going to rot anymore." They said, answering the question Logan's mind hadn't even formed yet. 

"That was a healing spell, wasn't it?" 

The figure nodded.

"Don't healing spells require life energy to perform?" 

"They do."

"Are you alright?" They snapped their heads toward him. And even though Logan couldn’t see their face he could swear the stare was somehow different this time. Like a mix of curiousity and… something else.

He wasn't sure if they waited for him to continue, so he simply asked them again. "Are you alright?" 

“I’m not stupid enough to use my own for someone elses benefit.” There seemed to be just a hint of hesitation if their voice and if Logan wasn't focusing so intently on them, he was sure he would have missed it.

"Did you use mine?" At that it chuckled. 

"I'm not cruel either, graverobber, despite what people may say about me."

"Its Logan."

"What?" 

"My name. It's Logan."

"Rather stupid to give your own name away, isn't it?" 

"I don't believe in such nonsense as fae."

"And I deemed you smart." He could hear a trace of a smile in their voice. Logan scoffed. 

"I do consider myself smart enough to distinguish rumors from truth. And judge the danger adequately."

"And yet you came here to meet me." They chuckled. "Do you think me harmless?" 

"No. I most certainly do not." Logan shook his head. "I know I'm taking a risk. Whether you help me or not. I just deem the potential profit worth it."

"You really are a strange one, aren't you?" They said before turning around, looking up at the clear sky. 

They climbed back up, long limbs grasping at the stray roots poking from the dirt and Logan caught a glimpse of yellow boots beneath their dark cloak. How peculiar.

They sat themselves on the edge of the grave, looking down at him. 

The scientist wasted no time, grabbing Roman's favorite sash he was buried with and using it to secure the limp body against his shoulders. Albeit a little awkwardly it did leave his hands free to climb back up, even if he had to readjust Romans body twice while doing so. He was panting heavily by the time he pulled himself out of the grave. 

The creature stood up, walking away, not allowing him a moment to breathe.

"Shouldn't we cover the casket again to avoid suspicion?" Logan called after it and it stopped. 

"Trust me, Logan" the creature chuckled, turning their head towards him and barring their too sharp teeth again. "Whoever enters the cemetery tomorrow will notice something is missing."

The figure didn’t give Logan enough time to process the response before they turned around, cape twirling with their movement like fog as they set the pace with their quick steps. It took him a second to piece together that the creature expected him to follow. He did his best to secure Roman’s body round his shoulder a little better using the sash. It was best to leave his hands free to… well, the night didn’t seem particularly inviting and despite what Logan claimed, he didn’t trust his mysterious companion as far as he could throw them. 

By the time the scientist caught up to the witch, they were almost out of the cemetery. It made no indication of having noticed Logan, though with how heavy his panting sounded in the silence of the night he sincerely doubted they failed to register his presence. 

Not that he minded the lack of conversation. Carrying Roman was taking up almost all of his energy.

The terrain got steeper the longer they traveled and Logan concluded they must be going up the lone hill near the cemetery. It was an odd black spot of land. Ash colored ground and black trees sticking out on the otherwise green scenery as much as the witch did in their little town. 

On the top of the hill there was a castle, a century or two old, left to rot for about half that time. If it even was ever finished at all. He remembered hearing rumors from the older folks that the owner left before the roof was fully in place. He tried asking about it a few times as a child but when pressed about it they would simply snear, not willing to mention it outright. Once the ground around it turned black even the rumors seemed to stop. And thus Logan gave up on learning the history of this place.

Still. It was a nice thing to reminisce as they climbed. The countless theories he strung together as a child came back to him. Giving him an odd source of comfort as he stumbled over dead tree branches more times than his tired mind cared to count. Anything was a welcome distraction from Roman's bod- Roman weighing him down. Even in his thinned down state. He had lost quite a bit of mass before de- his departure. Which Logan had no doubt could be fixed with a proper diet once he brought Roman back.

He adjusted his grip on the male and stumbled behind the witch. The pace they set wasn't fast but it was steady and after a while of not being able to take a break Logan had trouble keeping up. The distance from the cemetery to the old crumbling mansion wasn't big. But having walked halfway up the hill with Roman on his back has certainly drained Logan of his energy. As well as his mood. 

And soon the old theories weren’t enough to occupy his mind anymore.

"Is there any particular reason you're dragging us to an abandoned castle?" He huffed. Struggling to both walk and speak. "or have you decided to test how willing I am to-" 

The creature chuckled, slowing down slightly to allow a huffing Logan to catch up to them. He put down Roman before sitting down on the ground himself, barely restraining himself from collapsing. He sat down, resting his hands on the ground and grimaced instantly. The  feeling of the decaying grass between his fingers was an odd feeling but decidedly unpleasant. It felt strangely dry to the touch yet left an unpleasant feeling of stickiness on his skin as soon as he removed his hands from it. 

"And I thought you valued my input." The figure teased, walking around Logan in a slow circle. The man felt too tired to follow it with his gaze so he closed his eyes for a second. Allowing himself to rest. "Or have you gone back on your claims?" 

"I would value your input more if I knew you're not sending me on a so-called 'wild duck chase'." 

The figure snorted. 

"You're rather impatient, aren't you?" 

"I'm reasonable."

"Says the man who broke into the cemetery to haul a body on his shoulders through the fields." the witch pointed to Roman and Logan crossed his arms. 

"Leave him out of this."

"I'm not the one who brought him into this." The figure pointed out and Logan wanted to protest but the witch held up their hand, stopping him. Logan grimaced, crossing his arms and waiting for it to finish. "But since I'm feeling rather generous today I will reveal that the abandoned castle is in fact my home." 

Logan cast a glance towards the enormous building. 

"This seems rather excessive.” It certainly did add an air of mystery, which by now Logan was certain the witch had a fondness towards, but it hardly seemed worth it. It was so far away from both the river and all other food sources, and Logan sincerely doubted anything was growing on this ash colored ground. 

To be honest it didn’t look particularly cozy either. Crumbling walls didn’t sound like a good choice for a home. “Wouldn't a smaller house be easier to maintain? Why not choose something closer to the woods or water. Wouldn’t that be more comfortable?“

The witch didn’t respond and Logan started to wonder if it was ignoring him. When it spoke it sounded quieter, almost solemn. 

"Stone fortresses don't burn." 

Before Logan could ask what they meant by this the figure started walking again. Leaving Logan to scramble behind them once again. 

The rest of the trip towards the castle was silent, save for Logan's heavy heaving. His lungs felt like they might burst by the time the three of them made it to the top. He all but let Roman slide down his shoulders before collapsing to the ground himself. His head thumped against the brick entrance as he tried to settle his breathing. His throat burned with every breath and Logan wasn't sure he would be able to carry Roman another step tonight. The witch watched him desperately gasp for air before it leaned down and threw Roman over their shoulder in one swift movement. 

Logan tried to protest but all it earned him was a coughing fit that made his chest feel like it was burning. His fingers grasping in vain at the figures cloak, grazing the fabric but never quite able to catch it. 

No, no it couldn't take Roman. Not now. Not when he had gotten so far.

"Try not to cough your lungs out." The figure chuckled as Logan struggled to blink away the tears threatening to form in the corner of his eyes. "I'd rather not have to dispose of two dead bodies."

No. No. They couldn't. Not Roman. 

Logan felt wet streaks flow down his cheeks as he fell forward, arms shaking until they gave in and he found himself with his face pressed against the cold ground. The sensation almost overpowered by his insides burning him alive. Black spots dancing before his eyes as he desperately gasped for air. 

He was going to die here. He was going to die here and leave Patton and Virgil alone in their grieving for Roman. 

The next thing he knew was a soft golden glow surrounding him as the fire in his chest slowly died out. With finally enough room in his lungs for air Logan took a ragged breath, forcing the coughs down. The pain in his arms subsided a little and he was able to climb onto his hands taking in one desperate breath after another until his heart didn't feel like it was going to burst anymore. 

"You're rather a dramatic thing, aren't you?" 

"Let him go." Logan heaved. His voice still raspy from the coughing fit. 

"And risk you sprawling yourself on my floor and coughing your lungs up again? No, I don't think so." 

"You can't have him." Logan heaved again, doing his best to glare up at the figure. The figure chuckled. 

"Nor do I want him, trust me." Logan furrowed his brows and the figure all but chuckled again. "Yes, yes, we had a deal with you doing everything alone. How very noble of you. And how inconvenient for me to use my magic for something so frivolous as keeping you from dying." The figure grinned and Logan caught the unnatural shine of their fangs again. "I might not be so generous next time if you decide to be a nuisance."

All Logan could do was bite his tongue and glare at the creature. It chuckled again, as if all of Logan's worries were some grand comedy, before it offered Logan a hand. He scoffed, pushing himself to his feet on his own just to spite it. He swore he could feel it holding back a laugh as the procedure turned out harder than he initially thought. 

His legs still felt heavy, though not as much as when he collapsed at the entrance, and by the time he managed to position himself up his lungs threatened him with another coughing fit. 

"Do you take pride in making everything twice as complicated as it needs to be?" Amusement laced their words as they looked Logan up and down. He grunted, pushing himself off the wall with wobbly hands and nearly toppling over were it not for the witch steadying him. They retrieved their hand before Logan had a chance to swat it away. "Follow me then." They commanded, leaving Logan to catch up to them once again. This was getting repetitive. 

He staggered forward despite the burning muscles screaming in protest at every step he took. All he could do to keep himself upright was lean against the stone wall as he walked. 

He was surprised to find it so clean. The stone felt cold and smooth under his fingers as he slid his hand against it. Grounding him as he slowly made his way forward. 

What did the witch do to him? He dug Roman out of his grave and then carried him up the mountain, despite the pain in his chest, just fine. Why was he having so much trouble walking in a straight line? 

"You've exhausted yourself." The witch answered the question Logan didn't ask. 

"I'm doing fine." Logan barked through gritted teeth. Too busy trying not to fall over to care about being pleasant. 

"Clearly." The tone made it very clear the creature did not believe him in the slightest. "Which is why I propose we'll work on bringing your friend back to life once you had proper rest."

"I don't need-" 

"-to argue your point." The witch interrupted him. "Precisely. I'm not about to work on a delicate project with someone who looks like they are about to fall over and take a nap on the floor at any second. Arguing would be just a waste of time"-Logan could hear the smirk and their voice-"and your supposed abundance of energy."

Logan hated to admit it but the witch was right. Even if he managed to wrestle Roman free from their grasp there was little Logan could do to bring him back if the witch had no intention to help him. So with a sour feeling in his mouth Logan glad to admit defeat. 

"Don't worry." The creature assured him with barely hidden amusement in their voice." I can assure you, you won't be able to run from all the work that will need to be done tomorrow."

Somehow that did little to ease Logan's nerves.

#sanders sides #logan santiago #ts logan #ts janus #janus sanders #ts sides #cawtent #mention of death #death #cementary #shouting #the five stages of losing roman

[aziraphales-library]

Lost fic post #42

1. Hi, I've lost a fic. Good Omens human AU, Crowley is an uncle to Warlock and Aziraphale is a dad to Adam. They meet at the boys primary school. Warlock and Adam game together chatting through their headsets. Can anyone help? I have fb, Twitter and now tumblr looking for it. Thanks ~ @darknessandfyre

2. I'm looking for a Touch-Starved-Aziraphale fic, may have also been a wing grooming fic but I am not sure. I know for sure it was on a03, but I've combed through the tags and can't find it. I remember one quote to the effect of Crowley holding Aziraphale and thinking how Aziraphale was paying people like barbers and manicurists just to feel touched. Thank you so much for everything you do for the community!!! ~ @warcats-cat

3. Hi I read a fic like ages ago n obviously forgot bookmark it, n I wondered if you can help me. It's hurt/comfort n I don't remember much other than azi was hurt n he and Crowley stayed in a hotel where the staff kept refering to az as a swan because they saw his wing when they came in n couldn't physically say angel. At one point Crowley does his monster head thing to scare some assholes away from the front desk. Idk ik it's not a lot to go on lol. Thanks for all ur hard work! ~ @ive-moved-123

4. hello!! i lost a fic a while back that was about crowley and aziraphale eden to present and how they grew closer throughout the years? there was alot of mutual pining and i think 11 chapters??(could be wrong there) at one point theyre in a smoking bar and azi gets handsy. thank you!! ~anon

5. Hi! Could you help me found a fic in Ao3? I remember that Aziraphale wrote a journal about crowley snake behavior, and she Crowley founds it he gets mad, becouse he thinks he's only a pet for Aziraphale. Thank you! Your blog is a life saver 😊 ~ @aria1209

If you know one of these fics, please use the number in your response!

~Mod P

#good omens #asks #anon #mod p #warcats-cat #darknessandfyre #aria1209 #ive-moved-123 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #lost fic

[uselessidiotsquad]

20-25 from the Romance asks please! (I'd say for both but I understand that it could get very long so it's up to you!) :D [@thoseofuswhoblossom]

I do not mind both I have a great enthusiasm for my ships :D Thank you for the ask! @thoseofuswhoblossom

Unburiable

20. Who is the most clingy?

I would definitely say Riag is the more clingy of the two, but it's varied quite a bit. He's aware that he can be very clingy and tries to avoid it - not wanting to be a bother. But when given free range to be clingy, he is 100%. Part of the clingy-ness that comes with it is just when he's having a less than stellar mental health episode and has a hard time convincing himself that anything is real, let alone Trahearne.

21. Do they steal each others clothes?

Answered here!

22. What petty opinions do they not agree on?

Usually it relates to stuff. Riag doesn't see the point in having mounds and mounds of books lying everywhere when there's no way you're going to read them all start to finish. Trahearne thinks of them of reference material and so doesn't see the problem with it.

23. Why did they choose each other?

For Riag is was less of a matter of choosing and "Well this has never happened before and may never happen again with attraction maybe I should stop denying it." He didn't expect Trahearne to actually feel anything for him. *Surprised Pikachu face*

On the other hand, Trahearne had warmed up to him as they had to work together. He had been in relationships before but they didn't last since this impossible task of an Wyld Hunt had been placed in him and his attention was always divided between what he felt he was supposed to be doing and who he was with. And with it no longer hanging over his head - he chose the one who had helped achieve it, knowing that they already worked well together, and wanting to get to know him further.

24. What is their biggest problem?

Communication. This is mostly on Riag's end, but it's not even that he's doing it on purpose. He has a hard time opening up about what he's feeling because he doesn't want to put anything in jeopardy, or make him worry. Luckily for him, Trahearne is a very good listener, even if it in takes ages for Riag to open up at all.

25. How do their jobs/education affect their relationship?

A lot. Riag's retired and living a normal ish life. Trahearne is freshly alive and capable of engaging and helping with the Pact (which he still feels compelled to do to some degree). This leads to a good deal of conflict between them as you can imagine.

Warcat Wives

20. Who is the most clingy?

Galla! It's not often that this side of her comes out but when things start looking complex or dire she will not let her wife out of her sight. They both trust each other's ability to handle themselves but when things get sketchy they tend to gravitate back towards each other.

21. Do they steal each other's clothes?

Not really. Sigilis owns like 3 outfits (doesn't understand the point in 'fashion') and Galla isn't big into clothes either. Combat gear, under armor protective gear, and iron legion uniform colors. That's about it.

22. What petty opinions do they not agree on?

Oh there are a ton. Sigilis doesn't think meat should be cooked to anything less than medium and Galla likes things as close to mooing as possible. Galla is more organized and likes to be exactly on time and Sigilis is off yelling 'time doesn't exist who cares show up whenever'. Sigilis approached everything one step at a time and head on whereas Galla tries to see the bigger picture. Sigilis does not really care for humans but Galla has learned to appreciate them within reason. The list goes on and on...

23. Why did they choose each other?

They were friends as cubs and always managed to work in sync with each other. Sigilis saw the best in her when even she couldn't. And Galla saw through the bravado and into the fact that she cared very deeply despite trying to hide it. They'd been tentatively dating before the mission that wiped out their entire warband, still playing with the idea of a relationship. But that basically made it concrete and diamond (which is how I see the two of them). The last two standing for a reason, time to get serious.

24. What is their biggest problem?

Differing opinions on what has priority. This causes a lot of scuff in their relationship. For Galla, the highest priority is killing any and all Flame Legion that she can find. That is what she has made her life dedicated to. For Sigilis - she just wants to enjoy herself and go out guns blazing.

Sigilis does hate Flame, true, but to her what's done is done and everyone who was involved is dead already so it's not that important.

Galla does want to enjoy herself but that has less priority than the extermination of the fire magic using wankers who stole her friends.

In the end though, they will eventually out aside those priorities for each other.

25. How do their jobs/education affect their relationship?

Not too much! Sigilis as head engineer and Galla as combat Instructor means they are usually at the same Fort or military base together.

#gw2 #charr #ocs #sigilis forgemuzzle #asks #galla strangleforge #war cat wives #i care both of them #sylvari #riaghael #unburiable

[sparkledeerfr]

Response

(A preamble to the letters I’m sending to @majestyrising . I kind of switch tenses at some point but I’m too lazy to fix it now)

Adeline’s hands shake as she looks at the letter, though for what exact reason she isn’t sure. She had word a letter might be coming from a certain party, after all, and it was unlikely to be a declaration of war.

For a moment though her head cocks at the seal and Daud, who is pacing relentlessly nearby, pauses. “What?” he asks. Jesse, who is standing by the door giving her usual bored stare, gives the slightest interested nod of her head.

“Do….do we have a seal?” Adeline asks him. “I mean we should have a seal, right?”

(Read More Link)

“And what would Can Town’s seal be? Just wrap it with whatever string you found on the ground?” Daud growls as Jesse stifles a giggle. “The Castle has a seal, Casino Quarter-” here he pauses and looks to Jesse, who nods. “Doubtless has one for each casino. It's just useless ostentation.”

“Well alright,” Adeline replied, completely unsure about that as she pried off the seal and got to reading out loud and very carefully as though afraid she would trip over the words, Daud looking over her shoulder.

To Adeline, I will come clean and admit I do not know if you hold any formal titles. Forgive me if you do and I have made the mistake of omitting them.

“Oh that’s nice of them to ask! I hope they don’t mind that-”

“It’s a useless formality. Keep reading.”

Regardless, may I extend my formal greetings and well-wishes. Though you may not be aware- as I was not until recently- our peoples have shared correspondences before now. A man under my father's retinue has been to your Casino Quarter for work. He has given me a glowing recommendation of your city, thus, this letter.

“Bell’s dad! How sweet of him to say. Jesse you’ll pass that along to Neko, right?”

“Naturally she’ll hear all about this.”

In the absence of physical formalities, I will do my best in writing. My name is Rho. I am the ruler of a mercenary kingdom passed down to me by my father; the Kingdom of Thanatos. We currently reside in the south-east of the Scarred Wasteland- I will enclose directions to make this an even trade, since we know of your current location.

“Rho! How cool. Do you say ‘Your Majesty’ to a-”

“Mercenaries,” Daud growls even further, so low and deep it sounded like a warcat’s threatening rumble. “Throw the letter away.”

“Daud its-”

“I don’t care. I don’t work with mercenaries,” he says, turning around and leaving the room, pausing to turn just before he reaches Jesse’s post by the door. “Ask Vice about why some time,” he shoots before leaving.

The two women pause and sit in silence for a moment, Adeline’s eyes darting around the room, unsure of what to do. She trusts Daud with her life, naturally, it's just that diplomacy was never the man’s strong suit, and his stance on mercs is a little unusual for a man who was literally an assassin for hire at some point.  “Maybe...I should ask Nimue what to do?”

“Daud and Nimue are choosing not to lead,” Jesse replies in that calm, formal way she has. “So in their absence, what does the actual leader choose to do?”

“I choose to actually finish this letter, for one.”

“Good answer.”

I have endeavoured in recent times to expand our influence and connections in order to keep my people both safe and relevant in our changing times. What I would humbly ask of you is a mere accordance in kind. We are looking to fully integrate ourselves; a policy of isolation, whilst never truly enacted, has done little to ward of potential disaster. Thus, instead, I look for potential trade and allies.

“Totally reasonable, and I mean hey we’re one of the friendliest clans in the region, right? People are always welcome.”

“That we are.”

I will not ask you to put your faith in me through one letter, of course. As I have mentioned, our primary trade is mercenary force. Every dragon under the retinue of my kingdom has been strictly trained, each with their own specific strength in battle. Additionally, we have a force of elite healers, and social ties that may be useful in uncovering difficult pieces of information. We have a permanent need for resources, and plenty of gold to spare to gain them. Food, materials, and information; that is what we seek in particular.

“Again totally reasonable, and we have great trade routes!”

“And information.”

“Well that’s you. Do we need, like, stabby people though? I’d feel bad asking for help,” Adeline asks, mostly to herself. “Hmm hmm well I mean it can’t hurt, right?”

“A rich alliance of mini clans filled with natural resources and a hidden gem supply left somewhere in the region?” Jesse says dryly. “Why, I can’t imagine why we might ever need someone to help out should-”

“Okay point taken.”

I understand that your people and mine may benefit from the trade of information in particular. We are always in need of more contacts of this particular sort, and I would be happy to send a delegation to talk to you more closely.

“Ohhhhh um…”

“I’ll talk with Neko about getting you up to speed on formal events and manners, dear.”

“Okay yes thank you oh man is it, like, a dinner party thing? Or like do I invite them into a fancy room to say hi? Like what do I- well lemme read the next bit before I start worrying.”

Should circumstances allow it, an alliance would imbue me with the power to send my people to you, in any matters which would require it. This, of course, I would need to discuss in person. There is no obligation on your end for an alliance. You, after all, do not know me. And I do not know you. At least, not yet; since my hope is to change that.

“In person? But- what if he’s- like-”

“Adeline please calm down. This is your clan and you were chosen to lead because everyone thought you would protect their interests the best. They did not hire you because of your ability to host. I’m sure you could literally plan a slumber party and everyone would agree that you did your best.”

“Does royalty have slumber parties?”

“I believe it is called ‘visiting’ among the more well-to-do and ‘hosting’ or ‘diplomatic meetings’ among leaders.”

“Oh okay.”

Lest I forget; the man who came to your City was called Faraday. He is known to make an impression, so I offer his name in case he incurred any debts during his stay. I will repay them in full, if he did, though he assures me he did not. He has mentioned that he would like to return, if possible; but again- if he is barred, I will keep him out.

Adeline looked to Jesse for an answer. “If he has incurred a debt, Neko has been much too polite to state it. As far as I remember, his visit was before I came here and before the Cat’s Meow was renovated. I have heard nothing but a wistful fondness from her, as though recounting a youthful fling.”

“And this was before Etzel, right?”

“Yes just before-” Jesse started and they both paused, mulling this over.

“Well there’s no way I’m barring someone from visiting who’s done nothing wrong, especially if they’re considering visiting their kid but, uh, Etzel...would be chill...right?”

Jesse said nothing, but her mouth scrunched and turned slightly as if to indicate she did not know or like to think which face that particular coin would land on.

I look forward to hearing from you in any capacity. Yours truthfully, Rho.

“He does seem nice, though. Hm. I should write a letter back right? Can you help me draft it?”

“Adeline despite yourself I believe in you. That and I have no doubt that Neko and the Quarter would like to write a response of their own, so I must be off.”

“But I’m not, really, like…” Adeline trailed off.

“No you’re not a formal or fancy leader. In fact you have trouble even saying you’re the leader. But who cares? You are, and you are what you are. They can take it or leave it, no? If they leave it they hardly seem like the type to go on the warpath because of an informality.”

“You’re right, thank you Jesse.”

“No trouble at all, and I will have you know that I heard that Nimue was much like you at one point about such matters.”

“We all gotta start somewhere I guess.”

“That we do.”

Jesse left and Adeline sat in silence for a few minutes, trying to put together the proper words, trying to find a nice pen and some paper, shuffling things around nervously before breathing out and finally deciding to get to it.

“Okay, okay, I can do this. Lead like Adeline. It’ll be fine.”

#sparklelore #Adeline is a big ol disaster unless it involves punching things #but she tries real hard #and I know you don't want to respond until later alex but I wanted to get this up in case I forget #and I didn't want to send everything in a message but yes you ARE getting a letter from her

[lionsongfr]

A tale from the Clan of the Lionfish

Of Charges and Guardians: Courage Part 2

(note this takes place before Changing Currents)

Part 1: here

CrownOfThorns roared out in fear as the sand reached shoulder height, his wings shrieking in agony as he tried to pull himself from the sinking sands. BlackGhost had been wrong, it had not been just two Snappers- but a whole herd of them! Their eyes had glowed a golden brown as their magic had started to pull the cart below the sands, and his strikes with his trident had only lead to the cart sinking faster.

Now the cart had broken around him, its debris covering and tangling with his body, his trident already twisted away from him and buried. He felt panic beginning to override his senses as each claw strike only seemed to drag him deeper into the pit. He closed his eyes and tried to think.

What had his parents said about the dark wells? Don’t panic, don’t move, keep your wings flat to well and your nose upwards!

He couldn’t move his wings, but he could lift his head. He tilted his head upwards and ripped open the canvas top with his fangs. The sand had risen to his neck and was still slowly inching upwards. The blue sky loomed above, dazzling and tormenting all at once. He yelled for help, but all he could hear was the sounds of battle. A bloodcurdling battle cry resounded across the air, sending chills down his spine. Large wings of red speed past him and despite his better judgement he struggled once again as the sand rose above his head.

I have to get BlackGhost she is in trouble, please save her, please let her be safe…Shadowbinder, Tidelord, whoever is out there- please save her!

I am here! I am coming, beloved I shall save you!

Sand began to trickle down his nostrils, but those words, those thoughts- they were BlackGhost! Strong claws began toss sand from around his head and he greedily gasped in air. A shudder beneath his feet sent a wave of panic through him till he felt a solid weight beneath them. The weight ascended, slowly causing him to rise and he scrambled to leap clear of the sand pit as he reached the surface. His savior emerged from pit, and if he had not been so exhausted he would have stepped back in fear.

Its face, no her face was that of Caiman but her forelimbs like a Warcat and back like a Mossy Pohip. Yet her features were definitely like a Snapper. She adverted her eyes in a shy manner before looking behind him. He turned to see her what had drawn her gaze as a bellow of agony sounded. A dune colored Snapper lay on the sands as the crimson Ridgeback pulled his sword from his neck. The Ridgeback raised his sword once again, that war cry from his maw as he swinged downwards.

He spat out sand and yelled, “NO! STOP!” He pulled his heavy legs forwards, running, running to prevent this travesty of honor. The air was knocked from him as the odd Snapper slammed into his side. He tried to pull herself upwards, but her weight kept him down. He turned to snarl at her when her own wide, menacing snarl gave warning.

“Do not interfere,” she hissed. “CrimsonSaber would kill you too in his wrath.”

He twisted his head to the scene before him. The Ridgeback, CrimsonSaber, jerked his sword out of the now dead Snapper, blood splattering his scales and bone mask. CrimsonSaber’s head spun to look at him, and his eyes glowed red with an insanity that left him breathless. With a defiant roar the Ridgeback dared him to rise and prove himself.

Don’t do it please, please don’t fight him.

He broke eye contact with CrimsonSaber to see Ghost’s pleading expression. He sighed, giving in to the plea. He closed his eyes and thought hard.

I won’t.

He turned back to the Ridgeback and lowered his head in submission. CrimsonSaber bellowed his mighty war cry and took to the skies, and he struggled once again to rise. The Snapper pushed him to the ground in warning and he bit back a cry as she pushed upon his pained wings. As quick as lightning, Ghost snapped and snarled at Snapper, pushing her off of him and stepping in front of him.  

“Leave him be! He has surrendered to your beast of a mate!” Ghost hissed at the Snapper.

The Snapper snorted, whether in amusement or annoyance he was not sure.

“Your mate would have died if he had fought CrimsonSaber, no one can withstand his Bloodwrath.”

The Snapper politely bowed, “I am DuneDemon, warrior of the Fallen Star Fort. CrimsonSaber and I came to save you two from being foolish, but it seems that was impossible.”

He could feel BlackGhost bristling and he stepped forward, “How did you know what we were doing? And where has CrimsonSaber gone too?"

“Longnecks have long ears for a reason, though do not blame her for warning us. She was only seeking the best for her patient and friend.”

Thorns could feel heat rise to his face, how foolish he had been! His Longneck friend must have been worried sick about him. DuneDemon continued with her response,

 As to CrimsonSaber, he has gone to seek the other Snappers who attacked you. He shall most likely not find them if they stay in the sands. He shall wear himself out and return to the fort later tonight most likely.”

The odd Snapper motioned with her tail forward, “Now then, let us get back to the fort. I assume that if you willing to fight that you are willing to walk.”

He placed a claw on BlackGhost to stop her once again as she snarled at DuneDemon. He chuckled,

“She is right, Ghost. The shadows of life have not left our bodies, we can walk.”

He wobbled forward and she quickly braced him with her body. They must have made quite a sight, walking side by side, tarred together by the shoulder. The Snapper had no mercy in her pace, she walked without a single glance back to make sure they were following. He snorted. Typical Plague dragon, survive or die. He let his mind wandered back to the confrontation, and landed right upon the most important revelation. He focused again, hoping it had not been a fluke of his imagination.

Can you hear me?

Ghost’s head nearly hit his as she whipped it towards him, her mouth open and eyes wide. She closed her mouth after a second and called back.

I CAN HEAR YOU!

They both began to laugh in joy at this new ability, surprising a look back from DuneDemon. His smiled reached from fin to fin. What a wonderous outcome to such a disastrous adventure!

#FR #Flight Rising #clan lore #Clan of the Lionfish #lore #fr: CrownOfThorns #fr: BlackGhost #fr: DuneDemon #fr: CrimsonSaber

[warcats-cat]

🙃🙃🙃 someone please please help me find a link to an original fic that I think is originally from writing-prompt-s

It was about humans joining intergalactic war after some planets get destroyed and the rest of the galaxy writes humanity off as bad fighters and cowards because they're always seen leaving the battlefields or only sending small ships with few fighters aboard and the narrator eventually starts to wonder if the humans aren't doing something after all because POWs they take start ranting about ghost ships and attacks and everything and finally the narrator like wins an award or something and they take some time to visit earth and they find that the humans have built a memorial to the original planets that were destroyed and are fighting in honor of those who were lost and it's a really touching ending.

I can't find it in *any* of my tags no matter what search terms I use and it's driving me *crazy* please if anyone knows what I'm talking about please help me.

@writing-prompt-s I'm sorry to tag you but if you remember this?? Please.

#warcats rambles #help warcats #please #find a post #find a fic #it's been three days #writing prompt s #tumblr fiction

[warcats-cat]

Hh so I know I ask this a lot but if anyone finds that post about how to deal with hospital debt in America please link me to it or tag me.

I just got a bill from the emergency department for my visit from last month and it's over $2000 and I know my parents always tell me not to worry but I've *never* gotten a bill that high and I,,, thought I saved that post in my references because I have to go to specialist doctors/ the hospital a lot but I can't find it in my tags...

#warcats rambles #help warcats #please #please don't feel obligated to donate to my kofi thats not what this is about #i can figure it out with my mom and dad i just want to be able to help #and right now i can barely keep up with my student loan payments #i knew we shouldn't have gone #it was just a kidney stone #i hate the American healthcare system

[thecrowslullaby]

Of friends, foe and fae

Chapter one-A dance with Deceit for @sandersidesbigbang

pairings: prinxiety, (platonic) logicality, platonic loceit warnings: slavery, abuse, kidnapping, blackmail, manipulation, mention of death, implied death (he got better)

Shoutout to @pompomqt and their wonderful drawing as well as @8beez who drew the cutest Logan I have ever seen. And of course to @rosepetalgold who screaming with me in the docs and helped me complete the story in record time, as well as @warcats-cat and @lickoutyourbrains who were witness to my late night rambles about the fic <3.

read on ao3 | next

Virgil sat in the corner, clutching the elegant glass almost hard enough to shatter. The liquid in it tasted of ash, making it yet another reminder his time was long overdue. He shouldn't be here. And from the looks the nobles gave him, they all shared his sentiment. 

Five years. 

Five years of breathing borrowed air wasn't enough for him to accept his fate. He should have been executed, strung up as an example for any fairy unfortunate enough to be caught attempting a murder. Yet here he was, thrust into the middle of nobility once again. But this time there was no kitchen wall to hide him from their glares. 

And he had one fae to thank for his predicament. 

Deceit

An odd name for a creature unable to lie, but certainly not an unfitting one. Deceit was a fae of few truths and even fewer virtues, serving no one but themselves. They were the reason Virgil's heart was still beating, despite his crimes. Pumping cold blood through dead veins.

What a pathetic excuse for a life it was. 

There was no joy in an existence like this. No joy in this half life of fear and uncertainty. Not when this arrangement could end as easily as it started. Without a warning or an explanation. A servant in life and death.

And worst of all, Virgil still didn’t know the reason he had been spared from looking at the insides of a casket. It wasn't like Deceit to share secrets, after all. No matter how many times Virgil asked, the fae wouldn't tell him why they had decided to keep him at their side. 

He knew there must have been a good reason to do so. Who would risk everything they'd built just to rescue a near stranger from the clutches of death if they didn't gain anything from it? Certainly not anyone from the nobility. And even less so someone who had nearly gotten murdered by the very person they’d tried to save. 

Which meant Virgil must have some value to them. Some significant use. He just has to figure out what it is. 

"Dance with me," Deceit’s voice demanded. The glass cracked as Virgil tightened his fist. Not enough to shatter, but certainly enough to not be presentable anymore. Just like him. 

"Since when do you ask?"

"It wasn't a question." He glared up at the fae. They stared at him expectantly, gloved hand extended in an invitation. He could feel the crowd staring at him. Waiting for one more misstep that would finally send Virgil tumbling down. Deceit seemed to like keeping him dangling on the edge. As if keeping Virgil just a breath away from death wasn't enough. But then again, the nobles had ordered Virgil around as they’d pleased while he was still a fae. Why would his half-dead state change anything?

He grabbed the hand hard enough to bruise, yet Deceit's smile did not falter.

They led him forwards, gowns and tailored coats twisting around them in a storm of colourful fabric. Trapping Virgil in the swirl just as the music slowed down.

Deceit raised their arm forward, bent at the elbow. Slowly, Virgil connected their hands at the wrist. Cold veins rubbing against soft fabric just as the music began anew. 

Bodies flowed around him in elegant twirls as he struggled to remember the steps he’d learned by watching the princes dance. 1,2,3, step towards Deceit, step away, 1,2,...

“You’re bad at this,” Deceit commented as they glided over the dance floor so effortlessly Virgil almost felt jealous.

“Have you brought me here just to mock me?” It wasn’t like ballroom dancing was a skill the working class cared for, and Virgil was certainly doing better than average. 

“Please.” The fae rolled their eyes. “I have plenty of opportunities to do that back at the estate.” Ah yes, the estate. The very one Virgil was expected to treat like a home. "I've brought you here to dance with me. And so far you're doing a dreadful job."

Virgil scoffed. If Deceit was so insistent on having him as a dance partner they should have thought about teaching him steps before bringing him here. But he bit his tongue. Wouldn’t want to anger Deceit too much in one evening.

“You’re scheming something, aren’t you?”

“Isn’t that what you always accuse me of?” Deceit asked amusedly. Virgil felt his cheeks growing colder. “But yes, I am. And you’re part of it.”

“I have no choice in that matter, do I?” 1,2,3, change directions, 1,2,3. 

“You’re always welcome to leave.” Virgil cast a quick glance around the room. As much as staying under Deceit's command was a mystery, leaving their side was a sure way to end his life. Or what was left of it. For as much as he complained about his half life, it was still better than the threat of the unknown. He still clung onto the hope of getting it back. No matter how unlikely it was.

“I never asked you to keep me.”

“Nor have you made any protests against my offer.” Virgil stumbled to catch up as Deceit changed directions again. 

“You’re just keeping me to use me.” He shouldn’t start this argument, but it seemed his words flowed as easily as wine tonight.

“Aren’t you?” Janus asked, leaning in. Lingering far longer than music dictated. It took all of Virgil’s courage not to step away. To not lose the silent battle that had dragged on all these years. “Tell me, Virgil," he whispered low enough for his name to be lost to the sound of music coming to a crescendo. This was another thing Virgil hated about the arrangement. Deceit knew his name. They hadn't used it to give Virgil a command. Yet. He wasn't sure how long this ruse of goodwill would last, though. "Is there any fondness for me in your heart? Or is it simply convenience?” They stepped away smoothly just as the music faded again, bowing slightly. Virgil had half a mind to bow back.

“Don’t blame me for your mistakes.” There was… something in Deceit's eyes. Anger? Frustration? Regret? If he didn’t know the fae he could almost mistake it for worry.

“I-”

“May I cut in?” Both glanced at the newcomer and Virgil recognised them immediately. Cedar. If his blood were still warm Virgil was sure it would start to boil as soon as he saw them. 

Cedar stood with his hand extended towards Deceit. That ever-present smirk still on his face, despite the fact that Deceit's expression looked sour enough to curdle milk once they laid eyes on him. They quickly composed themself, putting on a much more neutral expression.

“I assume the half-dead-thing is not good company.” Virgil grimaced. If there was one thing he and Deceit had in common, it was their distaste towards the fae before them. 

“I wouldn't want to leave my ward unguarded after his return to society.” Deceit’s voice sounded sour. Just barely. But after five years of living with them, Virgil managed to find the small hints of emotion in the other’s behaviour. And he could tell Janus was fighting a losing battle not to let their anger slip. "He might be rather scared, and I take good care of all things and fae under my care."

Cedar, as always, took little interest in others' opinions. 

“Why don’t you fetch us something to drink, helot?” He spoke in a voice that made it clear she wasn’t used to having his wishes dismissed. 

Virgil took a step back and Deceit turned their head towards him immediately. Daring him with narrowed eyes to leave their side. 

Virgil gulped, not wishing to be caught in a spar between the two. Again. Fleeing while he still had the chance seemed like the safer option. Even at the prospect of having to deal with Deceit's moodiness afterwards. And as much as he despised Deceit, he had to admit that the fae was certainly better suited at dealing with politics-or whatever this was-than him.

"Of course, your Lordship." Virgil didn’t miss the way Deceit’s eyes narrowed. Their glare burned a hole into his skin, but Virgil chose not to address it. He might be under their command but that didn’t mean he was going to be caught in any more trouble unless given a direct order. Dancing certainly wasn't a skill Virgil enjoyed nor possessed and he had no desire to stay in Cedar's presence either. "I wouldn't want to step on your feet even more, Deceit." He finished with a bow towards both fae before quickly making his retreat. Leaving Deceit with Cedar as the music began to play. 

***

Janus glared at Virgil’s retreating form as the next song started slow. It gave Cedar the exact opportunity Janus was desperately trying to avoid-a chance to talk. They braced themselves for the no doubt unpleasant conversation to come. Though calling it that would be an understatement for how much the fae in front of him loved to talk. Three ranks below Janus and she acted as if they were the Queen herself. 

Deceit cursed under their breath as Cedar laid her hand just above their waist, successfully trapping them even more.

Janus could feel the court's eyes on them both. Watching with unhidden interest how the situation would unfold. Cedar had been particularly friendly with them lately and Janus knew very well that friendliness from most court members didn't come without a reason. She wanted something and Janus feared they knew what it was. 

It was just their suspicions, of course, but it was best not to make conclusions about just what Cedar had found out about them. The last thing Janus needed was for Cedar to gain more knowledge than they already possessed. 

“You’re awfully fond of that little half-dead thing, aren't you?" Cedar mused as she twirled Janus around the dance floor with ease. "I was sure you'd be bored of it within a few months. Certainly keeping it around for show must not be worth all the trouble you're no doubt going through to make sure it still breathes. So there is another reason to keep it, isn’t there?"

Janus chose not to answer. Cedar in turn gripped them tighter than necessary as he sent them into another twirl. Janus was starting to feel like a puppet mindlessly being flung about by a child making sure the grip on them was hard enough not to lose its toy. 

Cedar most likely thought they would run as soon as he let go of their wrists. Which would have been a fair assessment if it weren't for all the eyes on both of them. Janus had a reputation to uphold. Stoic and cunning. Unmoved by other fae’s pettiness. Stomping on a court member's foot before storming off would not do it well. No matter how tempting it was right now.

“You think keeping quiet will convince me you don’t care about it?”

“I care about most things considered mine.” Janus was trying their best to keep their voice levelled. There was no reason to drag Virgil further into any of this. Whatever it was Cedar had planned, Janus would settle this alone. “I would even go as far as to say, between the two of us, you’re the one who seems rather obsessed with him. Asking questions about him every time we meet. Wouldn’t you agree, Cedar?”

“It must be awfully dreadful living in that secluded estate of yours,” Cedar mused, not surprisingly changing the topic as soon as the conversation started to flow in a direction he didn’t care for. “You don’t seem to mingle with the court at all, going so far as deliberately avoiding most of its members. The twins don't visit you all that often anymore and I certainly can’t imagine that thing you keep around is very lively.” Janus bit his tongue in order not to say just where Cedar could stick his tasteless puns. 

“He’s decent company.” Janus glared at the fae. Unlike you. 

"Surely you could do better," Cedar laughed. The sound grinding against Janus’ ears like nails on stone. "Mingle with someone closer to your status."

"You're successfully keeping me from it." Janus kept their expression blank as nails dug into their hand. 

"Are you suggesting you value your little servant more than me?" 

"What if I do?" Janus smirked. 

“Careful there, Deceit, someone might get insulted.” Cedar leaned in closer, clearly trying to intimidate them. As if Janus wasn't used to it all by now. 

“That’s rather the point, Cedar.” They were both past the point of pretending to tolerate each other's presence by now, which seemed to annoy Cedar to no end. There was only so much persuasion one could do when the other fae clearly hated you. 

Fortunately, violence had stopped taking its toll on Janus long ago. Their expression stayed calm despite the other fae’s nails digging into their hand even further. They would have drawn blood if it weren’t for the gloves.

When the song ended Janus almost breathed out a loud sigh of relief. They tried stepping away, but Cedar was holding them in place. Nails digging into their wrist and waist. Daring them to cause a scene. 

"Let go of me," Janus hissed. If they didn’t make their leave before the next song started they’d be trapped. Stupid. Of course Cedar would pull a stunt like this. No foul play was below that pesky fae. 

Cedar simply smiled in turn. Swaying away as soon as the music started, far sooner than anticipated, and taking Janus with him. It was a slow waltz again and Janus started to suspect Cedar might have bribed the band. 

"I still have a few things to discuss with you." He smiled. "And you're awfully hard to catch, Dee." Not hard enough, unfortunately. 

"What do you want?" Janus hissed. 

"Marriage."

Janus almost laughed. Now that they didn’t expect.

"If you want my blessings, all I can offer you are prayers for the poor soul that's going to bind themselves to you."

"Our marriage, Deceit."

The golden fae scoffed. The audacity. 

"My, my. That's one hell of a love declaration."

It was Cedar’s turn to scoff. 

"Don't flatter yourself, Deceit. It's not you but the Queen's favour I'm after and we both know it."

"That's rather bold," Janus taunted, "stating your plans like that.” 

“I’m a fae of ambition.”

“Sadly, not of honour.” 

“Is that any way to talk to your future spouse?” Cedar scoffed as he continued to twirl Janus around, the grip on their wrists growing stronger. If this continued any longer, Janus might end up losing their hands.

“You talk about it like I don’t have a say in it. Are you really so confident in your own stubbornness?” Janus mocked. “I don't deny the advantage you would gain, but pray tell, why on earth would I agree to such an arrangement? I'm not a selfless fae, after all." 

"I think the question 'what do you have to lose if you say no'? is far more interesting." 

"I'll indulge you. What is it?" 

"Your little pet." 

Janus scoffed at the half-formed threat.

"You overestimate how fond I am of him."

"Why do you keep him around, then?"

Janus bit their tongue, not trusting their words not be turned against them for such a direct question. There were reasons Virgil was to be left under their care. None of which should be discovered. And certainly not by Cedar. 

Staying silent on the matter proved to be a mistake as Cedar’s smile grew. The fae clearly gained confidence as it spoke further. "It's rather a mystery how you came into the possession of a criminal, isn't it?" 

"If reading the official courtroom summary is far too lengthy of a novel for you, then I suppose you could describe it as a mystery." They watched in mild amusement as Cedar’s expression soured. ”But I can assure you most fae are well aware of the circumstances and there is nothing mysterious about it."

"You're not afraid of gossip?" 

"We can't lie, remember?" Janus smirked. "Gossip is nothing more than an inconvenience a few well-aimed questions can’t solve."

The music slowed down again but this time Janus was ready, twisting their hands in time to dig their own nails into Cedar. 

The fae hissed as they jumped back, knocking into a pair just behind him. This caused enough of a commotion to allow Janus a swift exit. Leaving Cedar's voice frantically spewing apologies behind them.

They hadn’t made it far from the dance floor when a pair of arms grabbed them. Dragging Janus into a secluded alcove. Their shoulder cried out in pain as they felt themselves getting slammed against the brick wall. 

"What is he doing here?" a voice far too familiar hissed just above their ear. Was everyone here a barbarian? 

"I was under the impression you were fond of Anxiety." Janus crossed their arms as they finally glanced up. They could see Roman dressed in green once again. His posture growing nervous under Janus' gaze until the prince took a deep breath and straightened her back. This gave her a few inches of height advantage over the golden fae.

"He shouldn't be here, Dee. You should have kept him at your estate." It sounded almost like a plea but Janus would have none of this.

"Oh, so you kept him alive just so he could be a prisoner, then. His life hangs on nothing but a thread of goodwill, your highness?"

"Dee."

"Oh, don't 'Dee' me, Rose." Janus crossed their arms, staring their former ward down. "It isn't fair. To either of us and you know it." 

Roman bit her lip. A habit from childhood Janus hadn’t  quite been able to drive out of him. Fortunately, the young prince's teeth weren't too crooked from it. 

"I'm… scared." They’d noticed. Rose barely visited them anymore.

"You think he isn't?" Roman shifted his gaze to the floor. "He's terrified. Has been for the past five years and you won't let me explain to him why he's still alive.” Or as alive as he could be after the Queen’s 'mercy.' 

"You're good at keeping secrets." 

Janus chuckled as they shook their head. 

"Doesn't mean I want to, Rose. He thinks of me as a villain and I can't find it in myself to blame him for it."  Roman continued to chew on his lip and Janus had to resist nudging her ribs so she would stop. Roman was an adult now, no babysitting him. Even if he clearly needed guidance. "Can you talk to him, please? For me?" 

Roman hesitated. 

"Alright, but not tonight." Janus took a deep breath. It wasn’t worth it to ask for a promise. It wouldn’t account for much coming from Roman, anyway. "Why did you even bring him here?" 

Janus' expression soured. 

"I needed a dance partner and Blackwood has been missing from the last few parties."

Roman burst out laughing and Janus did their best to shush her quickly. Drawing eyes never did any good. 

"I was under the impression you were quite popular."

"Unfortunately."

"Are you regretting your position in court?" 

"Aren't you?" The sudden shift in Roman's pose told Janus all he needed to know. Their mother wasn't… an easy fae to be around, so when she had announced she was to have children the court in its entirety had held their breath until the time to view her offspring came.

Twins. 

It was clear from the moment both children were introduced that one of them was a human. Yet no one dared to utter a word. Not in front of the Queen, at least. That would have been a risk none of the court was foolish enough to take. 

The princes, on the other hand, did not have the luxury of holding the other fae’s lives in their hands. 

Roman had taken the worst of it in the first years, suffering all the watchful eyes yet none of the respect that should have come with being a Queen's child. After all, it wasn't a place he belonged to. Plump red cheeks, warm like a fire, loud and cheerful. He looked so unlike his sibling. So unlike any fae child.

All the glory was pushed on Remus. The court trying desperately to have the fae outshine its human sibling. Playing a dangerous game in order to prevent Roman from ruling them in the future. 

It should have broken the children, set them against one another, but to Janus’ delight it only strengthened their bond. The two were inseparable now. 

And indistinguishable. Over the years the two had grown to look so much like each other that they could switch places as easily as Janus switched pairs of gloves. 

And they used that advantage to its fullest. 

Roman found it far easier to mingle with the court. After all, she had an advantage over all of them. He could lie. She replaced Remus for more than half the parties now. Enjoying a world she didn't get to be a part of growing up. 

Remus, in turn, had taken delight in being ignored. Spending its days in the garden, chasing scorpions and butterflies. Janus' flowers had suffered from almost all of its adventures but they couldn’t bring themselves to chastise Remus for the few breaths of fresh air it was allowed to take.

“I can be your dance partner as long as you don’t bring Anxiety.” Roman extended his pinky, breaking Janus out of their thoughts. The smaller fae grinned at that. Oh how childish the little prince could be. “Do we have a deal, Dee?”

“And how many dances would I be entilted to?” Roman grimaced, as if he wasn’t expecting the question.

“Two.”

“Hmmmm. That doesn’t seem too tempting. I want three.”

“Two and I’ll try to keep an eye out if you need a swift rescue.”

“Alright, two. And one extra tonight. I only got one dance from Anxiety.” Roman rolled his eyes, throwing her head back with the motion, and Janus couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re impossible.”

“Hmmmm. I’d say I’m impressive, irresistible, and incredible.”

“Incredibly annoying, maybe.”

“Rose.”

It was Roman’s time to grin as she extended her hand towards them.

“Deal?”

“Deal, you nasty little sprout.”

#roman sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders #ts sides #ts roman #ts virgil #ts janus #janus sanders #familial roceit

[warcats-cat]

BLEASE,,,

Somebody who's good at writing Good Omens fic pretty please write a fic about Aziraphale discovering boba tea. I NEED it. Will pay in heart-related emojis.

#warcats rambles #good omens #good omens fic #good omens authors #warcats request #please help warcats #ineffable husbands

[warcats-cat]

Hhhh anybody want to send asks in it's storming really hard and the sirens are going off and I could really use a distraction.

#warcats rambles #storms #severe storms #tw: tornados #tornado #i hate storms #tornadoes literally are the worst for me #help warcats #please

[warcats-cat]

Hhhh does anyone know how to search for tv series and movies based on description? I accidentally saw like part of this show while I was at work and I have no idea what it was but it *haunts me* Basically what I remember:

This woman was working at a fried fish and chips shop/stand on the docks. It very much sounded like the people were english or Welsh (more welsh than english, definitely UK). I think the woman was a single mom because she was really stressed about bills that were due that her son brought in after school. She started to have an asthma attack and when her son went to get her inhaler she tripped or missed a step and dunked her hand into hot fryer oil, and then it was all chaotic because she kept telling the customers not to call an ambulance because she didn't have anyone to take care of her son, and then later the son ended up having to stay with his teacher.

Like, I don't know anything about this show or these characters but I was so startled and I had to go back to my shift before I could find the remote for the breakroom. And I really want to know if the woman was ok????

Yes I am aware I sound crazy.

#warcats rambles #help warcats #tv series #tv drama #uk tv shows #tv show search #please help me #i beg you

[warcats-cat]

So my best friend is really into the Fly By Night musical right now and I would LOVE to get him a bootleg of it because there's no live theatre happening anywhere. Does anyone have a boot to gift/trade? (I did find the highschool one which is a nice quality but I'd love to get him one from professional theatre too. Doesn't have to be broadway.)

Thank you all for the work you do!! I know boots are taboo but honestly for kids like me who can't afford tickets all the time it's really really nice to have access to those shows.

#warcats rambles #bootlegs #fly by night #fly by night musical #broadway bootlegs #please help #love you all

[warcats-cat]

Hey, anyone who's good at video editing and willing to work for very little money (because I have two dollars to my name) please help me I have a bootleg in nine pieces that I would like to make one piece with as few hiccups as possible but like they're apparently very big files so none of the online mergers will let me combine them.

#warcats rambles #video editing #bootlegs #broadway bootlegs #editing help #please help me