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galebrainrot2024 · 4 months

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Gale Seeking Godhood Part V/5 PATH 1

Oh boy. Well. I wanted to release all three paths simultaneously but that may take some time so I'll release the paths as they are completed. This will be the only part for Path 1.

Paths 2 & 3 may be 1-2 parts depending on my brain.

Summary: Continuation of Gale seeking the crown post elder brain, final chapter for Path 1.

Editing to say that I do tweak and edit as I read and re-read these pieces and this makes my heart ache every time I reach the end. Anyway, I'm not crying. Just some dust.

Path 1

You approach Shadowheart with a warm smile and embrace her - “Gods, it’s been to long,” you breathe out as she hugs you. She smells nice - fresh and you can’t help but to inhale the rosewater and lavender from her skin when you embrace.

“Did you just sniff me?”

“Sorry,” you blush, caught. “I guess I’m not used to everyone being so… clean? It’s nice, for the record,” You rub the back of your neck and feel redness simmer beneath your cheeks.

Her melodic laugh echos in your ears as she says, “I suppose I should take the compliment. Although, sometimes I miss the smell of fresh mud on my skin,” she muses.

“Don’t tell me you miss sleeping in the dirt too?” You raise your eyebrows and smile.

She takes your hands in hers, “You know, I actually have found a spot that I frequent when I’m feeling nostalgic.” Giving your hand a gentle squeeze she says, “I’ve missed you. Now tell me, what have you been up to!”

You feel the looming dread fill your belly and Shadowheart recognizes the look, graciously stepping in, “You don’t have to share, if you don’t want. I can’t imagine it has been easy… I can’t say I’m entirely surprised, although I had my hopes. Do you think…” her unfinished question lingers in the air between the two of you.

Do you think he will come?

You aren’t sure. You had tried not to think about it leading up to the party, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots when you received the invitation - from Wither’s, of all people - or unpeople?

Shadowheart reads the look in your eyes and wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you against her as she leads you towards the rest of your companions. The air is full of merriment, music, and laughter - sounds that your soul has been desperately aching for. “I’ll let you wallow more later - for now, it’s time to celebrate, everyone has been expecting you.” And as she ushers you towards your companions you are filled with the sounds of their ‘whoops’ and ‘there they are!’ and fond slaps on the back, hugs, and the like. Astarion hands you a glass of something strong.

“Here, you’ll need it - in case, well, you know.” He gives you a wink and brushes his shoulders off giving a little bow. “I am surprised - I thought out of any one of us I’d be the one most likely to go off the rails not - ugh - Gale.” Your cheeks burn and Astarion gestures as if to say ‘be serious’, “Oh come now. What use is being a 200 year old Vampire Spawn if I can’t have a bit of fun at others’ expense?”

You glower at him and his eyes twinkle playfully as he pulls you into a hug. “Oh! I have missed you, you know. Maybe you’ll let me have a nibble later? I do miss that taste.. like a strong, bittersweet brandy..” You see his mouth begin to water and you shimmy from his grasp.

“We’ll see,” You smirk and he pouts as if hurt and goes to mingle elsewhere.

“Hey you!” Karlach comes bounding over and gestures wildly, “I can’t believe the bastard did it! I’m here!”

“It wouldn’t be a party without our liveliest companion!” Minsc bellows and shakes you by your shoulders from behind. “Good to see you, my friend.”

Everyone’s attention shifts as soon as you hear a familiar and warm voice.

He’s here.

***

You feel trapped in the amber of the moment when you see him descend into the party. The familiar, tell-tale marking of the orb is no longer etched into his skin and his eyes dart around nervously as he brushes at his clothes. Tara moseys beside him.

You step behind Minsc a bit as if to hide and try to distract yourself with the countless treats spread before you although you are anything but hungry. The moment you look up you see his eyes locked on you. You forget yourself as the rush of feeling seizes you, each emotion convoluted and overwhelming.

Two months. It was two months since you told him you never wanted to see him again. Now, as he stood not fifty feet looking ashamed and remorseful, you feel your heart wrench. He cautiously makes his way over to you, his hands mussing nervously in his hair.

“Hi.“ Gale says breathlessly. “Can I - Can we talk?” He shifts uncomfortably on his feet and gazes at you expectantly.

“Lead the way,” you gesture and you feel your companions' watchful gaze as you and Gale begin to walk towards the water.

***

As you sit on the embankment the sounds of the water lapping against the shore fills the cool night air. It smells like fresh grass and rain, the stars littering the sky with their wonder.

“Thank you,” Gale begins, breaking the charged silence. “For taking the time to speak with me, I mean. I wasn’t sure if… well, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me at all. I don’t deserve your kindness, nor your ear, and I am grateful for it all the same.”

You sit silently and watch him. You feel a heaviness that stirs in your belly, the unconditional love you once felt melded into something else, it made your heart sick. As his brown eyes meet yours you can see the infinite possibilities of what could have been. You do not owe him this, not your time nor energy, but you give it generously. A part of you still longs for him. Gale reaches his hand out as if to brush your hair and recoils his hand, looking towards the water.

“What happened?” You ask timidly. “That’s why you came, is it not?”

“Well…” he pauses to look at you, “I needed to see you. I - I know that it’s selfish, especially after what you said.” He sighs and brushes his bottom lip with his thumb. You feel your heart pang, the nervous habit one you find endearing. “Where to begin?” He asks this sincerely and you see his the wheels of his mind churn as he struggles to find the words.

“I suppose it came down to this: when you left, Tara took her leave shortly after.” He inhales and his voice trembles, “The loneliness… I could hardly bear it. I poured all my time, energy into deciphering the last words of the Netherese text in my isolation. At least that would give me purpose, I thought. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. Godhood was… it was everything. Time seemed to hardly pass at all. Once I cracked the cipher to ascend I - ” he stops and rubs his temples with one hand.

You and he sit in a stilled quiet for a moment before he is able to continue. The sounds of the party filter through the air to you as you wait with bated breath.

“I met Mystra in the Astral Plane. I knew I could still surrender the crown to her, to rid the world of this wickedness. To at last be cured of the orb. I was so close…” The way Gale says this is almost regretful, as if a part of him still wishes he became a God. “I became the inheritor of Karsus’ power at last. When Mystra asked my intentions I was fully prepared to take the Weave from her. And then,“ He looks at you, his eyes pleading and he covers one of your hands with his. You shudder, surprised by how his touch still ignites you. “And then I thought of you. Of Tara. My mother. Of all I’d given up in pursuit of my own blind ambition, of everyone I had hurt in the process. I realized I was no better than Mystra, treating those around me like amusements to be eventually discarded. Oh… I was so ashamed. I still am.” Gale brings your hand to his lips and brushes the back of it. You feel heat spread through you, although it is tainted by sadness. “Mystra granted me renewed life - to become her chosen once more, to remove the blight in my chest. My life my own again at last.”

He turns fully to face you, on his knees, taking both of your hands. “I’m so sorry, for everything. For what I put you through… I doubt I’ll ever forgive myself for it and know it is selfish to ask for yours. I am not deserving of it and I will not claim otherwise. Although it may be beyond a shadow of a hope - is there - would you ever consider us again?” His eyes flash with terror and anticipation. “I know I am hardly worthy of your love..” His last words hang in the air and you consider them thoughtfully.

When you break the silence, you feel your hands become cold and sweaty within his, your heart thrumming wildly before you speak. “You were already worthy of it, Gale. You were worthy until you decided to put your ambition over the ones you claimed to love.” Your voice is somber and you avert your gaze as his eyes seem to sear into you. You feel Gale’s hands stiffen and you see his expression fall. You look at him then, the bittersweetness of your voice wrapping Gale in a cocoon. “Gods, I wish it were different. Sometimes… I like to imagine that it is, in a different space, in another time, where we end up happily, spending our mornings lazily and exploring one another… where you chose me.” You see the tears form in his eyes, unaware of the ones that begin to roll down your cheeks until you taste their saltiness on your lips. “But that life is not meant for us here. Not now. Not after everything.”

“I see,” his voice quakes and you brush your fingers against Gale’s cheeks and turn his face to look at you.

“I will always love you, even if we are not together. Sometimes, though, when something is lost, despite our best intentions… that chapter must close indefinitely.”

Gale closes his eyes and brings your hands to his lips again, knowing this will be the last time he will taste your skin and experience the feeling of your bodies intimate in this way. You feel him try to drink every part of you in, committing this moment to memory. You sigh, relishing in the moment although your heart feels shattered and ruined beyond mending. His final words float through the chambers of your mind as you gaze into his eyes, “If I cannot spend eternity with you.. I’ll settle for this evening.”

You allow the silence to settle over you then, enjoying Gale’s company for one last time.

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #bg3 brainrot #baldurs gate 3 #gale #god gale #bg3 art #gale x tav #gale romance #baulders gate 3 #baulders gate gale #baulders gate rp #baulders gate tav #god gale bg3 #I broke my own heart with this path stg

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kingstonromcom · 1 year

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Passionate Strokes // Benedict Bridgerton

Masterlist | Join Taglist !!

↳ tags : benedict bridgerton x male reader,benedict bridgerton x reader,bxb,bridgerton.

↳ pronouns used : he/him/his

↳ word count : 3,466

↳ note : i haven't seen ANY benedict x male reader's sadly, so i decided to write one of my own :)), ALSO tysm for the likes on the other post !!

Chapter 1: The Encounter

In the bustling streets of London's labyrinthine alleys, Benedict Bridgerton found himself ensnared by a mysterious figure, emanating an aura of ethereal allure. Their paths converged on a serendipitous afternoon, and a fleeting exchange of glances set Benedict's heart ablaze, as if a thousand sonnets whispered in his veins.

Chapter 2: Hidden Desires

The vivid image of this enigmatic being refused to relinquish its hold on Benedict's thoughts. Night after starlit night, he sought solace in the sanctuary of his studio, where passion coursed through his fingertips onto the blank canvas. Each brushstroke became a dance, imbued with a fervent desire to capture the very essence of this man who had awakened the dormant chords of his soul.

Chapter 3: Painting the Unseen

Time unfolded like an unfathomable tapestry as Benedict's obsession deepened, roots burrowing into the sublime contours of the man's countenance. With an artist's discerning eye, he etched every delicate line into the alcoves of his memory, translating them onto the canvas with a palette of moonlit hues. Each brushstroke became an impassioned plea, a symphony of silent longing resonating within the unspoken spaces.

Chapter 4: A Secret Unveiled

The tapestry of fate weaved an unforeseen strand of destiny, guiding the man into Benedict's hallowed studio. In a delicate dance of chance, the man stumbled upon the myriad of portraits adorning the walls, his eyes encountering the embodiment of his own enigma. In that breathless moment, the atmosphere shimmered with electric anticipation, a wordless symphony conducted solely by the heart's percussive rhythm.

Chapter 5: Mutual Awakening

Emotions, wild and untamed, surged beneath the surface, birthing unspoken verses that yearned to be sung. Amidst the sacred silence, their souls entwined, painting a sonnet of connection that transcended the boundaries of spoken language. A shared vulnerability bound them together, their hearts united in a harmonious crescendo, where the unspoken became their mutual language.

Chapter 6: Love on Canvas

Within the ethereal haze of their burgeoning love, Benedict's art bloomed, capturing the divine essence of their intertwined existence. Each brushstroke wove a tapestry of adoration, breathing life into pigments that danced and whispered their secrets. The paintings became a melodic testimony, a love song in pigmented verse, where the depths of their passion painted the symphony of their devotion.

Chapter 7: A Masterpiece of Love

Benedict's art, like a poet's quill, flourished, immortalizing their love story in vivid strokes upon the canvas. The world, enraptured by the poignant portrayal of desire and connection, marveled at the raw intensity conveyed within each brushstroke. Yet, only Benedict and his muse knew the untold verses, the unsung stanzas, the profound love that inspired these masterpieces—a love whispered in hushed breaths and ardent embraces.

Epilogue: A Love Beyond Art

Benedict and his muse, their souls forever intertwined, ventured forth hand in hand, their love an eternal sonnet. Through the tapestry of their shared journey—passion, art, and self-discovery—they discovered solace within the other's embrace. While their paintings stood as resplendent testaments to their love, their true masterpiece would forever be the symphony they composed—a love that defied conventions, a love that kindled their spirits, forever altering the course of their lives.

#benedict bridgerton x male reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #netflix #bxb #bridgerton #male reader #pls read #i love this man sm #poetry

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90minsofscreentime · 2 years

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Now that's a Good Omen (I love you, I love you)

Why hello there~~

By golly, I really didn't deliver on the amount of Summer Bingo Prompt Fills I thought I was going to achieve, but here we are! With my Good Omens, Angel/Demon starker AU~

I'm quite proud of this one, truth be told (considering I was rushing to finish this before the deadline), so I hope it's to everyone else's enjoyment also! If you've been mentioned in this post it's because I added you to a taglist of people I'd like to check this story out! Of course, you are under no obligation to read my work if you don't want to, there will be no hard feelings~ <3

Card Below the Cut

Also available on ~ AO3

SFSummerBingo2022 Prompt Fill ~ "Angel/Demon AU" @starkerfestivals

Rating: Explicit

“Hello, Angel.”

Beautiful, golden brown locks flounce as Peter turns his head, his hand halfway through the motion of throwing some feed into the water.

“Oh! Hello there, Anthony!” The bright, melodic ring of Peter’s voice reaches Tony’s ears. It should be annoying - especially after all these years. It isn’t. Tony smiles. “Do you still go by Anthony? I can never be quite sure.”

“You can call me Anthony if you want, Pete,” Tony approaches with his usual swagger, hips swinging from side-to-side. Walking normally is boring - sue him. “But I’ve recently taken a liking to ‘Tony’.”

Peter meets him halfway, a paper bag of duck food clutched in both hands - no doubt fattening the birds they’ve visited for hundreds of years. He’s sporting a very flattering cream sweater with a light brown collared shirt beneath it, tied together with matching cream trousers and smart brown shoes. Ever the picture of immaculate spotlessness. Tony himself is draped with his usual black blazer, t-shirt and skinny jeans - his shades a bold blood-red, just because. Colours are fun, especially when you see the world through them.

“‘Tony’,” Peter turns the name over in his mouth, trying it out, tasting it. Tony hopes it tastes nice - like whiskey and cigar smoke or something (the best flavours). “I like it. It suits you,” Peter starts walking slowly towards a park bench; their bench. “It’s got the same refinement as ‘Anthony’, but with a bit more snark - it’s rather suave, I think,” Peter hums as he sits down, his posture upright and perfect, hands politely clasped in his lap. “Yes… I like it very much.”

“Why thank you, Angel. It’s nice to know I’m still just as suave as I was during that St. James’s Court assembly way back when,” Tony muses, settling into his signature slouch on the cold wood as he recounts the memory, sitting perhaps a bit too close to his holy companion, but it’s been a while, okay? He’s excited to see an old friend, that’s all. That’s all there is to it.

“In 1812?” Peter recalls, turning to look at the demon’s sly grin. Peter, delightfully, smirks back. “I still haven’t forgiven you for that… Sneaking up on me in the middle of a social event… And you weren’t even in the proper attire for an evening ball! People were staring at you! You and your lack of any waistcoat or cravat-”

“And yet I received the most feminine attention out of all the mortal bachelors that evening,” Tony preens, interrupting the perturbed Angel. “Say what you will about ‘high class’ ladies, but they’ll drop any responsibilities or decorum at just a hint of scandal and excitement. Usually in the form of a roguish man. Or another tempting woman.” Tony murmurs, thinking back on his past flings and conquests; all the times he’s seen that unmistakable spark of lust in an innocent human’s eyes - be it towards him, or a fellow human. It’s always so much more deliciously profound when it’s towards a forbidden human too. Well, only forbidden by their earthly standards, but still, it’s one of many reasons why spreading the sin of lust is Tony’s absolute favourite pastime. Peter could use some of that , he thinks. N-Not from him of course, just, y’know, lust in general.

Peter’s lips purse a little at his words, as if he disapproves of them yet can’t help but be charmed by them at the same time. Tony’s been on the receiving end of those pursed lips for centuries now and he still hasn’t bored of seeing them. If only he could do more than just look at those plump-

“Well I don’t blame them if that is the case, the poor things - always forced to conform due to something so inconsequential as gender,” Oh, Peter. Ever the saviour of the masses. If the Angel was given creative control of the Earth, Tony has no doubt that it would be a very different, sunny, equality-ridden safe space. Very healthy. Pretty boring. “But, things are different now, thankfully. What today’s generation lacks in style it certainly makes up for in inclusion and progression.”

“Does it really?” Tony interjects, fighting back a teasing smirk.

“Oh, Anthony, stop being so pessimistic about it all,” Peter rebuts, as petulantly positive as ever.

“C’mon, you can’t honestly look at the world right now and tell me it’s so much more improved compared to what it was when we had the first-”

“Alright, I know it’s not perfect, but I just…” Peter stumbles over his next words, seemingly at a loss. Earth can do that to you; leave you scrambling for justification at its most inexplicable failings and shortcomings. Tony understands. “I… I know what these people are capable of when they are at their very best. Their most kind; their most empathetic. So I… I can’t help but hold out hope for them.” Peter’s expression turns serene, his eyes glazing over slightly as he stares down at the shimmering water of the lake. “Anyway… I know I’ve talked about this with you before a-and it doesn’t even really matter in the grand scheme of things what I think so-”

Tony leans forward. Something takes over him, be it Satan or God (hell forbid), and Tony can’t stop himself from pressing an infatuated kiss on Peter’s porcelain, perfectly smooth, oh-my-god-he’s-so-soft cheek. It’s only when Tony realises he’s actively inhaling the Angel’s perfect scent that he comes back to Earth (ha-ha) and pulls away as if burned.

They both freeze.

Shit, shit, shit–

Centuries have gone by where Tony has managed to hold off the temptation (Yikes, how ironic is that?) and this boring, mundane, 21st Century meet-up by their favourite location is what pushes him over the edge? Really?

If only his fellow demons could see him now… Heart thumping, face flushing and throat drying - all at the prospect of a petty kiss on the cheek. He’d be a laughing stock. The most pathetic demon to ever walk the grounds above Hell. A lovelorn idiot, falling for the biblical charms of the most innocent being he’s ever put up with. Fuck… I really do love him, huh…

A delicate hand reaches up slowly to ghost over the spot on Peter’s cheek that Tony can’t stop staring at. The Angel’s wide doe eyes flicker around Tony’s face, presumably searching for whatever emotion caused this unexpected occurrence.

“Wh…” Peter breathes, seemingly at a loss for words. Tony doesn’t blame him. “What… What was that for?” Peter asks genuinely. Innocently. Holding back a delirious chuckle at such guileless sincerity, Tony scrambles for something to say, still avoiding those curious, ethereal eyes.

“I just…” Tony finally glances up, his shades halfway down his nose now, painting just half of the Angel in a rosy tint, while the other half is bathed in the white rays of the midday sun. The once rouge tinged hue of his skin now glowing with purity and goodness and undeniable beauty, as painful as the sun. Tony pushes the frames back over his eyes. “I just really missed you, Angel.” The sincerity of his comment must’ve surprised Peter, his pink lips parting slightly in a silent gasp. Tony holds his breath, waiting for an inevitable slap or rebuttal or perhaps something as simple as Peter walking away until the next Millenia, but neither of them are moving.

Peter’s features slowly shift into an expression of unadulterated fondness, his eyes crinkling delightfully and his mouth smoothing into a gentle smile. Even Tony’s shades can’t disguise Peter’s unsullied brightness and, by proxy, Tony’s contaminated darkness can’t help but smirk in reply. So fucking beautiful.

“I really missed you too…” Tender fingers slip through the gaps between Tony’s, clasping the Demon’s hand in an achingly sincere grasp. “...Tony.” The air between them thickens as they continue to gaze at each other, hands tightening in an affectionate squeeze. They probably look sickening to any outside observer. Tony couldn’t care less.

In a flash, Peter rushes to connect their lips in a chaste peck, instantly drawing straight back before Tony has a chance to respond. Peter’s eyes widen in anticipation and barely concealed eagerness; a very good omen indeed . Tony can see he is being handed the reins, the power, to decide how this progresses. By now they’ve crossed the point of no return and there’s no need to be chaste about his feelings anymore - his desires. Peter is just too delicious to pass up.

Their lips crash in a much more passionate, violent, dangerous slide than before, with Tony pushing and pushing to get his tongue inside that forbidden mouth, prompting a delightful squeal from the scandalised Angel. Christ, he tastes better than anything I could’ve ever imagined… Tony’s much larger hands grasp the sides of Peter’s face with uncontrollable desperation, he has to grip every soft, supple part of this creature that he can reach, he has to kiss these untouched lips like a mortal starved, he has to appreciate - no, worship - every inch of Peter that has been neglected for millenia, he has to, he has to, he has to–

“Ah, Tony!” Peter gasps, disconnecting their mouths with a wet smack – not at all very far, mind you, as Tony is still clutching onto Peter’s flaming cheeks, so they’re basically still sharing air. “I… I–”

“Yeah?” Tony sighs, licking and mouthing at Peter’s lips; the fire inside him well and truly stoked. You’re never getting rid of me now, Angel .

“I-I think we should mmpf–” Tony captures Peter’s mouth and swallows the rest of his words, unable to help himself. The urgent press of their mouths is almost deliriously painful at this point, but judging by the exquisite breathy moan Peter lets out, he probably doesn’t care either. “W-We should… ngh, definitely stop this public display, Tony…” Oh that’s right, they’re still sitting on this damned bench next to those damned ducks in the middle of this godforsaken park.

“I would say fuck ‘em and put on a proper show for them to gawk at–”

“Tony! That’s disgustingly vulgar!”

“-But I’d really love to properly defile you somewhere private… All to myself…” Tony presses another firm kiss on Peter’s gorgeous rosebud lips. This beauty deserves to have rapturous sex away from the greedy public – they don’t have the right to set eyes on such an ethereal creature – that pleasure cannot be wasted on baseless mortal idiots. Peter needs to be taken apart in a bed , naked and glorious, without fear, awkwardness or shame, aided by an experienced demon of lust to really explore all of his… possibilities. Enter: Tony. Whoever said he wasn’t a gentleman? “...So… Your place?”

“Oh, Tony,” Peter’s breath hitches as Tony starts planting kisses all over his cheeks, nose, jaw, neck– “I-I don’t think that’s, hah, such a good idea,”

“No?” Tony pulls back from sucking on Peter’s throat, a grin spreading across his face when the Angel instinctively follows after him, no doubt not wanting the sensation to end. Peter’s eyes flutter as his mouth parts - clearly he’s holding onto the very last threads of protest within himself.

“N-No… I mean yeah, I mean–” Peter clears his throat delicately, his dilated eyes not leaving Tony’s. “We probably shouldn’t…”

“Well, if you say so, Angel,” Tony murmurs, a false air of ease and indifference about the situation, smirk still firmly plastered on his face.

“Y-Yeah, I… yeah.”

“Oh my G–! Uh! Oh my goodness, Tony!” Peter’s soft, plush bed probably feels heavenly to sleep, relax, whatever in, but Tony can attest that it doesn’t provide very good leverage for when one is trying to fuck the brains out of his friend/lover/enemy. Peter himself, however, is probably the most heavenly (haha) thing his cock has ever buried itself into, and for that, Tony can let the infuriating bed slide. He’ll just have to push Peter up against a much firmer surface right after this, and then another after that, and another after that–

“D-Don’t slow down, please, please, please! ” Peter whines, his hands shooting forwards to desperately clutch at any part of Tony he can reach. Tony leans forward and obliges.

“You want me to go faster do you? Harder? Rougher? ” Tony shoves forward in a particularly ruthless thrust in reply, his arms start to shake with the effort of holding himself up over Peter’s squirming form. Somehow they had ended up in missionary position. It almost seemed inevitable what with how they couldn’t stop kissing each other on the way up the stairs, while tearing each other’s clothes and flopping gracelessly onto the bed (although Peter is always graceful, so he probably looked amazing doing it. Tony couldn’t see, obviously. They were kissing. Remember?). They’re still kissing now, and Tony doesn’t think either of them could’ve torn away from the other to discuss an optimal position. It was all so naturally decided – so easy – and somehow it’s the most incredible sex of Tony’s prolonged, never-ending life.

“Oh, G– Oh, Tony, it’s– it’s too much, I-” Peter can barely string his words together with how much the slap of their bodies is knocking the breath from his lungs, causing delicate “ah”s to interrupt almost every word.

“Oh, Angel… Unh, God, does it feel good?” Tony groans, his stomach flaming with impending heat, his thighs burning with exertion and euphoria. He can feel beads of sweat falling onto Peter’s already glistening stomach and can’t stop himself from leaning forward to nuzzle, open-mouthed, at the wetness. God, he’s so fucking delicious.

“I don’t– ngh, it feels, I-I feel…” a despairing keen pushes out of Peter’s throat as Tony buries himself and starts rotating his hips painfully slowly.

“Do you want me to stop?” Tony asks, with great, great effort. Let this be his only good deed for the rest of time — his one in a million exception before he doubles down on his usual mischief. If Peter isn’t comfortable, then giving in to his adorable, oblivious charms simply isn’t worth it. Shit, maybe I am going soft.

“No, no, no, no!” Peter flings his legs up and around Tony’s waist and pulls, somehow shoving Tony even deeper. “Don’t you dare stop!” Okay then, nope, he’s definitely not going soft, in fact, he is still hard (very, very much hard) and primed to burst at a moment’s notice. Jesus, Peter, you’re really gonna make me blow my load like a horned-up mortal teenager, huh?

“Don’t worry, Angel, I’m not gonna stop… Shit, I don’t think you’ll ever get me to stop now,” Peter sighs in delight at Tony’s words, his face scrunched in new, undiscovered ecstasy. And the Angel deserves every second of it.

Tony doesn’t realise his eyes beginning to close or his mouth beginning to gape in unrestrained pleasure, his primary movements being relegated to: thrust, thrust, hold Peter as close as possible, repeat. He can guess that Peter is right there with him, just as lethargic and just as far gone judging by the never ending stream of “unnnhhh” leaving his mouth, made jerky and irregular with every pounding thrust into his body. Tony adores how unintelligible he’s caused his Angel to be, how carnal … Reducing such a holy, virginal creation to an obscene, amorous creature could grant Tony the most unheard of bragging rights in hell – he could be recognised as one of the very few demons in history to tempt and have his way with a forbidden being. But, strangely… the thought is completely reprehensible to him.

Why on Earth would he let anyone else get their dirty hands on something so intimate? Peter isn’t a notch in his centuries-old bedpost. Now that he’s finally been invited to savour the Angel – to guide him through such uncharted pleasure – why would he ever distribute that with anyone else so undeserving? Hell, Tony is nowhere near deserving of everything Peter’s giving him; everything he has to handle with unwavering tenderness, so as to not let the Angel break like porcelain beneath his scarred hands. No one can get anywhere close to breaking Peter. He can’t let them.

A small gasp emits from beneath him, a separate sound to the passionate utterings of their intercourse, so Tony pries his eyes open to investigate. Peter isn’t looking at him, instead he is looking past him, above him and around him with a disbelieving expression of fondness. Tony blinks rapidly and realises the added weight behind his shoulders – something that must’ve appeared so gradually he didn’t notice – and just in the corner of his vision does he spot shining black feathers. My wings are out…

Slowly, but surely, Tony feels his cheeks bleed into an embarrassing shade of pink or red or whatever the hell colour blush is. What the fuck. This is too much, Peter surely knows just how far gone he is by now, and it’s probably fucking everything up.

“Hah, uhhh sorry about that,” Tony breathes, still in disbelief that he lost so much control over himself to stop concealing his wings. “I-I’ll put them away,” He hasn’t done anything like that since he was first created, and even then it quickly became second nature to hide the large span of his wings unless absolutely necessary. What kind of pathetic demon have I become?

“No!” Peter exclaims loudly, surprising himself as well as Tony with his urgency. “N-No, don’t do that…” the Angel repeats, gentler this time. Delicately, Peter begins to lift himself up and off of his back, legs still wrapped around Tony; their bodies still connected at the crotch. Tony reaches to help pull him up and hold his back for security and balance. Tony feels… nervous. Exposed. He feels inexplicably… human. Waiting for a rejection or a confirmation that seems life changing in its importance, when really it’s just another occurrence in a universe full of events that couldn’t be more meaningless. But… it feels…

Peter’s eyes gaze at Tony’s, his hair ravaged and his face sweaty, still the most beautiful person Tony’s ever laid eyes on. Their heartbeats throb in ferocious tandem together, so uncertain, yet so undeniably full of… something. Something indescribably universal that even two weary spirits can feel it so deeply.

An astonished sound punches out of Tony’s chest when he sees two magnificent wings emerge from Peter’s shoulders, stretching out to their full glory behind him, so incredibly grand and opulent; so exquisitely white. Tony reaches up and feels, and a shuddering moan escapes Peter as he rushes to touch Tony’s wings in reply, both of their hands tentative and full of wonder. Liquid heat lustfully rushes to every inch of Tony’s form, causing his hips to jerk and Peter to quiver at the sensation.

It doesn’t take long for them to start humping against each other urgently, still sitting upright, and still clutching onto each others’ wings. Huffs and pants and groans fill the air around them – too desperate to be restrained – and Tony is barely holding back from his climax, his entire lower body straining with the tension needed to thrust, stay upright and clutch onto Peter. It’s a monumental task he is willing to perform for Millenia if it means Peter gets to experience the crest, the peak , of his pleasure a hundred times before himself. God, he can’t wait for Peter to cum.

Neither can Peter, it seems. The Angel’s grip on Tony’s wing and shoulder, respectively, tightens and tightens until the Demon is certain there will be scratches on his flesh and loose feathers all over the bed – a thought that leaves Tony absolutely gleeful.

“Woah, I–” Peter gasps in surprise at something and tips his head back before looking down at where their bodies are connected, squirming restlessly in Tony’s lap. “ Ah! Oh my– Tony, I feel, something’s–” Oh fuck yes, he’s getting close. Tony immediately speeds up his hips.

“ Yes, do you feel it, Angel? That heat inside of you?” Tony purrs, eyes glued to Peter’s helpless expression. He’s not missing one second of this.

“I do, I feel it– Oh my G– Tony it’s coming! It’s getting– Ah! ” Peter yelps as his whole body begins to shake delightfully, his back arching dramatically until his head hovers just above the mattress, an irresistibly erotic picture. Fuck, I love him so much. Wait. Shit.

… Love?

Tony whimpers and keeps thrusting forward, trying to ignore the echo of that word in his head, but looking down at Peter, at one of his hands smoothing across the miles of ivory skin laid out in front of him, the feeling of his other supporting hand – holding the skin right in between those silky, white feathers – he can’t help but repeat the thought. Again and again. Fuck it, I do love you, I love you, I love everything about you, I want to see you cum for me, I want to feel your pleasure squeeze me when you climax, I love you, I love how you feel, I want to cum inside you and never pull out, ever, I love you, I adore you, I need you–

“ Tony! ” Peter wails desperately, scrambling for purchase, pulling Tony on top of him as he lets himself go and falls back onto the sheets, his moans rising in pitch, volume and urgency. “I-I’m going to– I! I need– Ah, fuck, Anthony! ” Tony feels the exact moment when Peter cums, the tightness that immediately follows, accompanied by an lascivious scream. It’s heaven.

His thrusts become violent, ardent and needy, making sure to hit that sweet spot inside Peter every single time so that the Angel’s elation can last that much longer. Tony’s stomach flames with a familiar intensity and he lunges forward to kiss Peter ferociously, needing to taste and feel every inch of him as the heat rises and rises and rises inside of him, before finally, exquisitely, coming to a crest. There is about half a second of stillness. And then . Liquid pleasure floods Tony’s entire body, shooting up from the tip of his toes to the highest point of his temple, intensive, extreme, it’s too much. It’s perfect .

“Unhhhh, fuck ,” Tony groans, exhausted, sinking on top of Peter just carefully enough to not completely crush him or his wings. Tony’s black feathers stretch and flex before coming to curl around his and Peter’s quivering forms. The quiet is comfortable and natural, filled with only their tired breaths and the occasional smack of lips against skin whenever one of them feels like blindly kissing whatever they could reach. Tony has never felt so content.

“I love you too.”

Shit, never mind.

Tony’s eyes snap open at the whispered confession, his heart rate starting to pick up once more. For a moment he is confused… Unsure. ‘ I love you too?’. But then he remembers. ‘ Fuck it, I do love you, I love you, I love everything about you–’, Fuuuuuck.

Did he… Did he really say all of that out loud?

“Did I really say all of that out loud?” Tony quips, still not daring to move and have Peter see his face. There’s a rustle of fabric and Tony can just tell that Peter has turned to look at his face, turned to the side as it is.

“Did you not mean it?” Peters murmurs at length, his voice quieter and insecure. Dammnit, you’re messing it up, Tony.

“No, no, no. I mean yes! I mean,” Tony huffs and shifts his position, coming to lay on his side facing Peter, rather than lay on top of him. Stop being a coward. “I… I did mean it – I do – I just… didn’t think I was saying it all out loud,” He chuckles, braving a glance at Peter’s face. The Angel looks amused.

“Well, you did,” Peter affirms, a playful grin beginning to spread. “And I enjoyed hearing it very much,” Peter purrs, seductively. Holy shit, Tony’s created a monster. And he couldn’t be more perfect.

Let’s just say that Tony continues to tell Peter he loves him for the rest of the night, again and again and again until his voice is hoarse (and thoroughly used) and Peter responds just as excitedly to every utterance of the phrase. They’re still saying it by the time morning arrives and Tony can hazard a guess that – after 13.7 billion years of waiting – neither of them are going to stop making the other scream it anytime soon.

taglist: @helaisthequeen, @starkerforlife6969, @darker-soft-starker, @gayspacesprinkles, @starkwub, @tinytintina, @monster-cock69, @jordanparker, @the-mad-starker, @vaguekiwi, @thegreenmetblue, @starkly, @sinditia, @muse-of-gods, @lanyakea-universe, @longlivestarker, @nerdylocksandthethreebears, @awesomestarker, @starkerhead, @starkrpro, @shivanessa, @anonoite, @ursafootprints, @starkerhowlter, @starkerscoop, @khalixascorner , @obligatorynasty

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ubernaut · 3 months

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Top 5 favourite songs with the best bass?

Oh dear, that’s certainly a difficult one 😅 (thanks very much nonetheless 😊)

1. Muse - Resistance

I’ve always LOVED how the bass changes up on this song, from the consistent speedy picking of the verses, to the melodic pre-chorus, to the fast fill flourishes in the bridge, and that high melodic part post the first chorus is just *chefs kiss*.

2. Catch 22 - Walking Away

The fretless bass intro/solo at the beginning of this track has stuck with me since the very first time I heard it, it’s beautiful, and very uplifting, and it only gets faster and more blisteringly bouncy from then on throughout the rest of the track.

3. The Specials - Ghost Town

I’ve always found this track to have such a wonderfully haunting and dissonant groove that fits the song perfectly! It’s also so fun to play, so much so, that it was always my go to line to play for sound checks. Also the contrasting happy line in what I suppose would be considered the “chorus” section is a nice change of pace, that links so well back into the darker verse section.

4. Queen - The Millionaire Waltz

This songs bass is simply phenomenal, it plays a wonderfully supportive roll throughout the mid section, but the real shining star is the melodic lead bass of the intro minute, that makes a reappearance in the rather grand outro. Also, bassist John Deacon is my number 1 bass influence, and who I’d say I model my playing on most.

5. Avenged Sevenfold - Tonight The Word Dies

The Bass in this song is great, in that it plays a somewhat parallel supportive and lead roll, with its dark melodic styling playing counterpoint to the bluesy guitar leads, and it’s overall a nice contrast to the more usual Metal/Punk playing of bassist Johnny.

Also an honourable mention for the song “When The Going Gets Tough, The Tough Get Going” by Billy Ocean, which has the most delightfully bouncy bassline I’ve ever heard, but I haven’t counted it with the above as it’s a synth bass part, though definitely a favourite.

… anyway sorry for rambling on, I can talk about bass forever lol. Also this is by no means a definitive list, it’s just what happens to come to mind at 1-2am while I can’t get to sleep 😂

#ask #bass guitar #personal #thank you ☺️

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joemuggs · 4 months

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Albums of 2023 part 3

And - continued from part 2 - some more! This one does what it says on the tin. Levon Vincent knows the old chestnut "dancing about architecture" is accidentally profound: this is 11 pieces of holy four dimensional architecture exquisitely designed for your body to move through.

It's been a great year for old school BRAINDANCE, in no small part thanks to Mighty Force records releasing thick and fast, and this from Kams, straight out of Beckenham, is the best - just warm-hearted, melodic, acidic, danceable, classic electronica.

My old mucker Culshaw is a scholar, a gent, an adventurer, and on the sly a great musician. This comeback to the studio is MAGIC - global and spiritual and incidentally Balearic in a Jose Padilla sense - but its connections are based on highest common factors, never dully fusioneering.

Just fries my mind that Boris seem to get creatively hungrier and angrier with every passing year. This collab brings in all sorts - goth, thrash, synthwave - but what I really love is the unironic POWER METAL energy. Music to be struck by lightning to.

It's been an incredible year for electropop - and this album from producer turned singer songwriter Avalon Emerson is the *sweetest* of the crop, lighter than air, a gentle digital dream, but with surreptitious emotional heft. Reminds me a little bit of millennium era Morr Music, Tarwater etc? Must listen as a whole: it draws you in and in....

Even heavier than the Boris, and the record that made me fall in love with grindcore all over again - had to order the vinyl even given transatlantic premium. Nepalese band in New York Chepang TAKE. NO. PRISONERS. HUURUUUURURRGGHGHHH.

I was NOT expecting this from Anhoni - but I'm a sucker for Muscle Shoals style country-soul grooves, and though they risk getting "a bit Jools Holland", here they're delivered with total assurance plus the bleakness of the lyrics, fierceness of delivery and a few noises moments all adds some serious edge.

More electropop - this one from Jessy Lanza is not a million miles from the Avalon Emerson in its pristine futurist sound, but it's a bit spikier, eerier, like she is setting puzzles for you.

My most played record of the year. Like the Culshaw, a bit Cafe Del Mar in the most urbane possible sense - Sissoko & co's blend of jazz, classical, W African & European folk is done with unbelievable poise and emotion and is completely addictive.

This has been all-conquering this year and rightly so. It's not just the fearsome doom bits, it's the straightforward folk that's great: Lankum remind us of dreadful, beautiful paradoxes of being human that don't really change through the centuries.

Paul Simon says this was written in dreams, and it really sounds like it. Genuinely transporting, surreal, gorgeous and - I have to say it - roughly 10,000,000 times more interesting than anything Bob Dylan has done this century.

Completely UN-deconstructed trance... the way Romy taps into the melancholy of the most globe-conquering of 90s pop dance is something quite special and will serve as a real cynicism test... go on, let it twang your heartstrings!

I've kind of idly admired King Krule's music from a distance previously but that changed last year - he really is something special eh? Way more than the sum of influences, and a proper world-builder.

One of many where I missed the promo at the time (sorry PRs) but then discovered it via my sp****y recommends. Just beautiful post-classical, post-ambient musing music from Audrey Carmes that sounds like austere but lovely perfumes and crisp clean cotton.

Of course death is at the heart of Depeche Mode's music so how tragic but appropriate that it took Fletch's death to turbocharge them creatively. This is like a telescoping together of their whole history - but also still in love with new sounds...

More death, more darkness, with Amy Winehouse serving as a dark angel muse drawing together and crystallising the ambient, abstract and dream cabaret influences Kevin Martin has been incubating in his solo KRM albums since 2019. Crushingly sad and great.

Espec after seeing him rock it in the morning at We Out Here, I do feel like Joshua Idehen is in danger of becoming a late-blooming star, you know. Explicitly connecting David Byrne, Mike Skinner, Maxi Jazz and a finger-jabbing Nigerian preacher, he ROCKS.

Yes, Yussef Dayes really is all that and a packed of Pickled Onion Space Raiders. Brit jazz just seems to have been in a consistent triumphant state these last five years or so and there's no sign of it stopping being that way with albums like this still coming.

Ben Howard is an artist who'd completely passed me by despite being really quite big - but again the sp****y algorithm brought me this and it's really amazing, thought provoking, grown up pop. I *instantly* guessed it was Bullion on production too, no lie. ❤️

I've said for a long time that "mumble rap" has deep atavistic echoes of the blues and psychedelia - and here's the mumbler in chief Lil Yachty joining the dots back through the decades. Funkadelic, Hendrix, Beck, Outkast, BUTTHOLE SURFERS? Yeah it's all here. Not saying it's one those levels, but it's great and

Holy shit is Dot Allison on a roll or what? This is effectively 2021's Heart Shaped Scars growing in all directions: bigger, grander, more cosmic, even more beautiful. The partnership with Hannah Peel as arranger is front and centre and works incredibly.

Alright it's not as unique as Bad Bunny's 2022 masterpiece Un Verano Sin Ti - this is more trap, less overtly "Latin" - but it's really, really good. Sometimes not knowing the language can emphasise the emotion in the sound: the blues in the trap, the Spanish derived "tristeza"...

My fave Villalobos moments are often him working his wonky magic on "real" instruments and songs (see his Tony Allen / ECM reworks) so a whole album of him tweaking A Mountain Of One's Balearic soft rock is a real treat. Gets progressively "more Ricardo" as it goes on.

I love how Young Fathers have become such a beacon of what a "big festival band" CAN be when it broadens its influences out and grooves a bit. This album is such a big step up for them, and I really hope they keep this momentum because it's BIG FUN.

And talking of Scots "big festival bands" with diverse influences pushing the envelope and having fun with loading in more pop, dance, rap etc, The Djangos really went to town on this one and I was surprised not to see it getting more hype. A proper weird and wonderful party of an album.

Okayyyyyyyy last part is here, get stuck in!

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pearlypairings · 9 months

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☁️ There is a light &/or ❤️ Aurelias please

Anonnnn yes of course!! I'm so excited to share some from both of these<3

☁️ A fluffy little convo between Jonathan & Chrissy while he's working

Chrissy's eyes grew wide, still beaming. “Oh so he does laugh! Just only in honor of self-deprecation. But it’s a nice laugh.” He rolled his eyes at her, comfortable. “You know, I think this is the most we’ve talked all of high school,” she mused, her tone very matter-of-fact. “I’m not much of a conversationalist.” And she’s not usually wasting time talking with weirdo Byers in between her classes and sucking face with…. “Well, you seem to be good at pep talks, ever think of being a cheerleader?” Her grin looked devious now, enjoying pushing his buttons a little.

❤️ Favorite dialogue from the next update of Aurelias!! (sorry it's been such a slow WIP, fantasy is HARD)

Michael protests by throwing his hands and stepping in front of the group, closer to Christine. Sir Jonathan lunges from his seat to squeeze between them, blocking a protective arm in front of her. “She knows things she shouldn’t–it’s not safe for any of us, Lucas and Max should have never brought her here!” Lucas scrambles to hold him back, pulling hard against his momentum, as Jonathan readies a fighting stance, shuffling his feet. The chaos of the outburst sets everyone on edge, Christine most of all. Before tensions could rise any higher, Eddie’s melodic voice pierces through the array of sound, positioning himself directly in the middle of the group with wide, outstretched hands. “Peace, peace—” There’s a slight bounce in his knees as he commands his friends. “Christine may be of noble blood, but she has just discovered more of our truth. Her knight has sworn her understanding.”

Mike always being a pain in the ass in every iteration of fic lol, but Eddie is here to wrangle his Hallowed Fire family and bring em back into the fold for this sweet new member, Christine<3

Jump into my asks, slide in with an emoji and a WIP from this 200 Celebration post :)

#thanks anon<3 #loved the duo here!#hellcheer #photocheer #chrissy cunningham #wip ask game #200k milestone #ao3 author #open asks #ask pearly #pearly answers

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princessmagpie · 10 months

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HI AND WELCOME! :-) I'm Princess Magpie - you can call me Magpie, Mags or Ophelia!

On this blog I'll post and reblog content relating to my interests, which includes but ain't limited to: horror media, melodic/power/death metal music, lighthouses, art, monsters, animorphs (and other apple-grant books like remnants, bzrk & gone), sphinxes, sci-fi media, animals, anatomy & biology, nature, animals with human faces, pokemon, strange video games, uncanny content, speculative biology, kingdom hearts, fun and lighthearted content, digimon, silly things, danganronpa, books, comics, and much more.

I do my best to tag all my posts with the proper tags. For posts made by me i use the tag #magpie musings

MY ART I'm a digital artist who enjoys drawing monsters, creatures, aliens, cryptids, humans, humanoids, anthros and animals. I enjoy drawing OCs and fanart alike!

If you want to see my art only, please visit @princessmagpiesart where I only post my own art and don't reblog anything else.

I post art here occasionally under the tag #magpies art

I post all of my new art on Patreon - you'll be able to access sfw art and finished pieces, sketches, WIPs for only $1 á month. For $3 or $5 á month you'll be able to access all of the above and nsfw art and monthly "art request" perks.

If monthly backing isn't your thing I also have a Ko-Fi page where you can make art requests or commission me! :>

Commissions are always open! Shoot me a message and we'll talk.

VTUBING I'm also a Vtuber/PNGtuber as a hobby! I usually stream art (with music and no mic) and weird games (with mic) - please check out my Twitch account to learn more!

WHERE TO FIND ME If you want to find me on other sites, please check out my Linktree for where to find me :-)

YOU MAY KNOW ME FROM... Some people may know me from previous (now inactive) blogs; othercrow, operationtixandtricks (Monster Office RP blog; playing my OC, Tix), davidtherat (Animorphs RP blog; playing David). If you know me from any of these, don't be shy to follow and say hi! :>

#magpie musings #magpies art #princessmagpie #about me #pinned post

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eternxlstarx · 11 months

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BEACH / POOL STARTERS What can I say? With school winding down, had some thoughts for starters based around water! Most of these can be applied to either a beach or pool setting. Add + REVERSE to switch the roles. Make sure to specify the muse for multimuses!

Accepting : <3

xholyhearted asked: [FLOATING STARS] Sorey and Alisha

[FLOATING STARS] - our muses relax in the water and stargaze together

The night was bursting with a stars, this was sight that princess never wanted to let go of.

Earlier today Alisha was working hard on changing things around her City, she found herself training new soldiers to their posts, helping Rose take care of the families around the city and even clean up the wrong doings of the Darken coucilmen who turned ladylake into a prison hold. All this duties and responsablitys for the Royal knight who honestly didn't know how to take a break. The girl was running herself rampid with everything, until this particular night The female found herself being called over to the palace where she was told a freind was seeking council with her, low and behold when she walked down those stairs she noticed the fun and loving Sorey looking a tad bit nervous.

"Sorey!.. to what do I owe this honor to have the shepard amunst our city once again?" She acted proper even though she really wanted to hug him, in her mind the princess was over the moon that he was standing here right now, from his journey.

It wasn't until she was asked to come to a location at night as he had somthing that he wanted too show her, That girl found herself in this present time now. Laying on a rock here in the water , as the two started to splash one another and started laughing. It wasn't until she tilted her head back that Alisha found herself gazing up.

"Sorey look." She commented there about them was a Galaxy filled with stars, like fireflies twinkling in the moonlight as the moon glowed upon the waters with a lit glow. The melodic waves crashed against the shore softly.

"Has it always been like that??" She asked enchanted by the scene above her.

"It's strange...Ladylake has been encoved with clouds and maleviolence for so long ... I forgot stars even exsisted at this point." She chuckled nervously before looking at him and giving a cute smile.

#Alisha: Royalknight;;#Ic #xholyhearted #ask replied

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plagued-melodies · 2 months

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Sibling Rivalry ⚕️Part one

!This is based on the headcanon that Baizhu and Pantalone are brothers! Also this very self indulgent and usually think of my self insert as the traveler so- I'm sorry if that's not your style :] reader is said to have an exposed midriff because I like that style of clothing but it is not indicative of readers sex or pronouns. I do mention greatly about Baizhu's disability but I'm not entirely sure if I did it justice as I'm not really familiar with him, I just find him pretty so if I said anything wrong lmk so I can improve!

Relationships: Baizhu x traveler!reader

Implied Pantalone x traveler!reader (hes attracted to/infatuated with you sort of?? It's more like he's doing it solely to tease Baizhu but the reader is unsure about him as they don't know who he is but is friendly because he's Baizhu's brother.)

Baizhu and Pantalone are brothers with a strained relationship but still care about one another. Baizhu just has certain boundaries.

I really really like Traveler!reader I'm not sorry

Pronouns used for reader: they/them

This has been in my drafts since forever so forgive me if there are some canon issues lol, I have a stupid mix of what I thought was canon, what is canon, and what is just ???

Also It's been so long since I've written anything I'm sorry if it's cringe or badly paced.

Part One (you're here)

Part Two (to be added)

Imagine that once everything is said and done in the nation of Sumeru you've come back to Liyue for some much needed rest, you trudged your way over the jagged land of the chasm that connects the two nations. With your sore and sunburnt body you end up running into Liyue's best herbalist, Baizhu who is accompanied by little Qiqi. Throughout the months before your trip to Sumeru you found yourself hanging around the eccentric man more and more as word for your future endeavors got around and he had wished to aid in knowledge on what was safe to touch and consume and what to avoid. This lesson turned to several lessons on how to create healing concoctions based on different ailments. You appreciated his help greatly and promised to bring several rare or useful herbs for him to use.

When on the road returning to Liyue, you were surprised to see him so far outside the city however, especially so far off the trail. It wasn't uncommon for him to leave the city but he usually left anything this far out to Qiqi as a precaution due to this condition, he couldn't risk anything if he ended up passing out. If he did go out he usually sticks to the trails most often used by travelers or nearby settlements he could rest at.

You asked him about this, worried about his being and he explains that today he felt capable of retrieving certain herbs he needed and needed to get some fresh air from a visiting relative who was a bit overbearing at times. You nod in understanding, the city coming further into view with the ocean glistening. The sun was at its highest peak at this point and you felt its harsh rays beat down on your exposed back. Your conversation continues on, talking about recent adventures in the dendro nation as Paimon floats about and you hold Qiqi's little hand in your own larger one.

Baizhu talked greatly about his recent endeavors, including a few odd ball patients who he practically had to have dragged into the pharmacy by some of his assistants. He also talked about how he was able to curate some remedies for himself that, while not able to cure his ailment (or achieve his overall goal), help him retain a lot more energy than usual so long as he didn't over exert himself too much. Hence why he's out here with Qiqi gathering some herbs for some clients he had.

You two continue exchanging pleasantries with Changsheng chiming in every once in a while, perched comfortably atop the doctor's shoulders. Baizhu begins to explain the use of the herbs in his bag with you contentedly listening. You both walk into the city through the back trail, the unsteady and steep path putting you into alert for your companions balance. In your focus on Baizhu's safety, you completely neglect your own and nearly slip with the doctor quickly taking hold of you. Despite his weak physicality, he's capable enough to pull you up by the forearm into a safe balanced position before you even hit the ground. He sighs at your clumsiness, a tinge of mirth in his own eyes. He heaves another sigh, a sign of his exertion of energy that's beginning to take a toll. The grip on your forearm moving to a gentle hold of your hand.

"Oh archons I'm so sorry! I should have been looking at where I was going!" You didn't mean to trip the way you did, in trying to help him not exert too much you ended up doing so anyways. He waves off your concern, a mere smile plastered onto his face in response. He continues to urge you forward by placing his free hand onto the small of your back.

"No need, nobody got hurt, it wasn't an issue really, you're not particularly heavy to pick up the way I did, so no need to worry." His voice is chipper as he continues his hold, you don't think to mention it, jotting it down in your mind as him needing to steady himself. A tinge of guilt stirs in your gut because of it. Being a temporary mobility aid for him is the least you can do right now before he could get home and rest properly. You decide to carry out the conversation as normal when you make your way through the city. Ignoring the occasional glance towards your unusual stance from passersby. He takes notice however and raises a silent question, you joke that maybe it's because of the notoriety of his bitter potions. Paimon Snickers from behind you two at the comment, Baizhu feigns offense at this.

"Medicines, not potions and please believe me, if I could make my medicines just as effective and more delightful for people to consume I would, but I cannot risk the medicines effects being nullified by anything that can influence the taste significantly." You laugh at this, missing the way his faux irritation softened at the sound of your laughter, replaced momentarily by adoration.

"I guess that's true... I'd rather take one disgusting dose of medicine that would work rather than small doses of some okay tasting stuff that may not even work..." You muse with a smile, "Especially if you made the medicine. I trust you wouldn't poison me." You chuckle. He shakes his head fondly as Changsheng pokes her head around.

"How insulting, to even suggest such a thing..." Changsheng hisses softly, emphasizing the harsher syllables of her words as she narrows her magenta eyes towards you. Baizhu gently taps her on the top of her head.

"Now now Changsheng, no need to get so defensive... It was a light tease. Don't worry yourself so much." He chides the snake adeptus softly. She flicks her tongue out quickly before coiling herself further. You chuckle at the sight, you know that Changsheng wasn't actually offended and simply wished to give you a hard time.

"Speaking of medicine, I brought a ton of herbs and plants I found in Sumeru, Master Tighnari helped me pick them." You state eagerly, a smile on your face as Baizhu walks in tandem with you. He smiles softly, adjusting his glasses to be better perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Oh? And you would trust me enough with these? After all, you don't know if I may poison you or not." He jokes with a subtle grin on his face. You give a roll of your eyes as you motion your head to the side.

"Oh please, I doubt any poison you make could kill me." You playfully joke back. This goes on back and forth for a while, all of it being in good humor and light teasing as he subtly grips your hand tighter.

The moment is short lived, however when you arrive towards the stairs leading to Bubu Pharmacy. A stern yet audibly relieved voice breaks through your mirth filled bubble. The expression the doctor held now having a look of exhaustion in its stead. You don't recognize it or the words he's speaking until he descends the stairs towards you both, taking carefully calculated and painfully slow steps.

"Baizhu! I knew you needed to run some errands but you've been gone for hours now and while I understand you're feeling better, you need to be careful, what if you ended up collapsing near a hilichurl camp? I was worried sick-" his scolding is cut short when his gaze towards your companion is turned to you, taking immediate note of Baizhu's obvious hold of your form. A heat of embarrassment rises to your cheeks as you attempt to wriggle into a less awkward position. Your subtle attempt is for naught as the green-haired doctor's hold on your hand tightens with a gentle squeeze. You stand there, stiff as a ramp as the mysterious individual raises his gaze once more. Paimon and Qiqi stand silently behind you, the latter's hand still intertwined with your own.

"Pray tell, may I ask who this may be? You two seem... Close." Baizhu clears his throat as he turns his attention to you, seeming to reluctantly diminish his hold on you he turns to you fully.

"Traveler, this is my brother Pantalone, he's here to visit," You turn to him and wave before turning back to Baizhu, "Pantalone, this is the traveler. They're passing through Liyue for a couple of weeks of rest." His tone is unusually curt with introductions. A huff is heard from behind as two tiny hands plant onto your shoulder and your flying companion is lurched forward slightly.

"HEY! You forgot about Paimon!" You roll your eyes slightly at this, taking a strand of her hair and twirling between the fingers of your now free hand before turning to the pair of brothers.

"And this is Paimon, as you probably could tell." You add as she gives a cheeky grin at this. You can't help but get a strange feeling that you've heard his name somewhere before... But, since this is Baizhu's brother, you didn't want to be rude and just tossed that thought into the back of your mind.

"Hm? Oh so this is the well renowned Traveler? The one who's well known all across Teyvat for their heroic deeds?" Pantalone questions rhetorically as he brings his hand out to shake yours. You can't help but notice the rings adorning his gloves hand, the material looks sleek and expensive. In fact, everything he was wearing seemed to be expensive. You tentatively take his hand and begin to shake his own. What you didn't expect however, was for him to lift your hand to press his lips to your knuckles.

The entire group goes silent, you don't notice the look Baizhu gives him or how Changsheng coils in a way to turn her head away from the display.

"My dear brother here has told me lots about you, but he must have neglected to mention just how lovely you look." He says with a voice as smooth as a spoonful of jade fruit soup...

"O-oh umm... Thanks, I guess? That's very kind of you.." You reply rather awkwardly, pulling your hand back when he lets go. He gives a nod of his head, the gemstones hanging from the chord of his glasses swinging slightly before he straightens up and looks towards Baizhu.

"Well, with introductions out of the way, I have some work to do and the traveler is probably very tired after their journey so we should go ahead and let them go to the inn to rest. Right, Pantalone?" He says, placing his gloved hand onto the exposed region for your back that's still slightly tender from the constant sun exposure. Your face heats up slightly at the contact, especially when one of his fingers curls against the small of your back... His other hand goes to your shoulders and steadily turns you towards the other direction, clearly motioning for you to leave. When you start to walk, he takes Qiqi's small hand as she waves goodbye to you.

You smile softly and sweetly while you wave goodbye to her. Paimon gives you a confused smile as she floats alongside you in her usual manner. You shrug, unsure of what the problem here was. Maybe his brother had crossed an unspoken boundary? You can't really say.

Well, he was right about one thing. You're pretty freaking tired. Both you and Paimon are ready to eat a warm meal and sleep in an actual bed.

_____________

You return the next day, a pep in your step as you approach the pharmacy, carrying a bag of plants you had gathered that you weren't able to give Baizhu yesterday. You were excited to give these to him, you weren't sure if he already had these herbs or had any use for them, but Tighnari was kind enough to help you find them so you hoped that they would at least be of some use!

You enter the pharmacy, your smile widening as you wave to Herbalist Gui "Hey! Good morning, Gui. Do you know where Baizhu is?" You ask as you set the bag down onto the edge of the counter. He smiles as he shakes his head no.

"No, unfortunately he had a house call he needed to attend, I can't say when he'd be back... I'm assuming this is a personal batch for him?" He motions to the bag, which you proudly nod to.

"Mhm! Special delivery all the way from Sumeru! Personally handpicked by yours truly and the Head Forest Watcher of the Avidya Forest!" You state rather proudly as you wave your arm to the bag. Unfortunately, with your luck, your haphazard placement on the counter would result in it being knocked by the force of your arm.

You nearly shout with surprise as your hand darts to reach out and grab it, only to be immediately stopped by someone catching the bag before any of the plants fall out or the glass inside shattering. You heave an inward sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank the archons. Thank you." You say with a slight nervous chuckle.

"Oh it's no problem my dear, it was of no issue for me. Do be more careful in the future however." A voice spoke, a voice bonging to none other than Pantalone. The man smiles the same smile he gave yesterday as he puts the bag flat into the counter rather than the edge where you had placed it previously.

"O-oh um, yeah, my bad. I guess I'm just a bit careless today... Hey uh-, Guilty, could you " You give a sheepish chuckle as you speak, unsure of how you should talk to this stranger. On one hand, he's Baizhu's brother, and you really like Baizhu so you should get along with his brother, right? But on the other hand, something seems.... Off about him. Like there's a small voice in the back of your mind that just screams that you've heard his name from somewhere before.

Herbalist Gui takes the bag full of medicinal herbs, setting them down aside for when Baizhu comes back from his house call later.

A sigh is heard from Pantalone as Gui informs him of Baizhu's departure that morning, "Even when I come all the way from Shnezhnaya to visit him, he never ceases his work, even in his condition... whatever will I do with him?" He sounds exasperated, one arm across his chest with his hand holding up the elbow to his other arm where off he has a tired hand resting on his temple and his eyes closed. You clear your throat, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

"Oh well, that's just how he is. It's a house call so he won't be exerting himself too much, especially with Qiqi with him. He may be a workaholic but he knows better than to strain himself, we should trust he knows what he's doing, right?" You try your best to sound reassuring. The taller man nods at your words.

"I guess that is true, I'm not around very often and he's done just fine without me nagging him around..." He says, although he seems reluctant to say those words. You can't help but relate to the feeling of worrying and fretting over a sibling as well.

"Well, since neither Baizhu nor Qiqi are here, I may as well go and complete today's commissions. Thanks again for grabbing that bag, it would have been a pain if some of the glass broke in it." You express as you turn towards the pharmacy's front entrance.

"Oh? An adventurer as well? Would you mind if I tagged along?" He requests, "It's been a long while since I've seen anyone fight, though quite ironic considering my line of work." His comment is vague but you assume that he's being that way on purpose seeing as it's really not your business about what he does for a living.

"Um.. sure? I mean, it's nothing grand, but yeah, you can tag along.. just be sure to stay out of the way. Is there something you need help with?" You ask, maybe he needed help with a commission he had yet to post? That wasn't fairly uncommon, people often just came up to you due to your notoriety and would offer straight up to pay for services rather than go through the guild which could be a tedious and expensive process depending on your job.

"You could say that... And do not worry, I do not intend to be of any bother..." He reassures, "I would just like to see the famous traveler in action, to see if the rumors of your visionless power over the elements is as true as they say..." He adds.

And with that, you head off... You don't have Paimon floating around you today. She was still practically melted into the sheets when you got up and you didn't wish to disturb her. It's not often you guys find an actual roof to stay under and Paimon was just a little thing, she needs all the rest she's missed since the mess in Sumeru. So you left a note telling her you had left real quick to do some commission work and had left a small bag of mora to get herself something to eat for when she inevitably got hungry.

At some point while going about your commissions, you kind of forget about the looming shadow of the man you just met yesterday lurking behind you. It's not until you're out near the Guili Plains are you reminded as you hear the heels of his boots clicking against the ground in a steady rhythm not too far behind you. You're currently trying to find some lost bags from a careless historian that did not think to check his surroundings before setting up a camp and being chased off by the hostile... "neighbors."

A few hilichurls, maybe a mitachurl or two. It shouldn't be a big deal, even with the extra company. So you continue to look around.

"I imagine that doing this sort of work is quite profitable, yes? Especially with a reputation such as yours?" Pantalone suddenly says out of the blue, his arms crossed elegantly behind his back as though he is simply strolling along the city...

"oh um- yeah, I get by. At least food wise. Some commissions pay more than others based on difficulty." You explain, continuing to go through brush and using your blade to cut the surrounding foliage out of your view before moving onto the next area. You didn't think it to be of relevance that sometimes commissioners would sometimes refuse to pay the other half of their fee.

Depending on the size of the commissions, the Adventures' Guild would allow the commissioner to pay only half upfront so that, if something were to occur to either party, at least the adventurer who completed the commission at least got something and that the commissioner didn't completely lose their money.. But sometimes, a lot of time, you'd find yourself having to exasperatedly explain this novel concept to them as they refuse to 'shell out any more mora for a job I already paid for'... It usually wasn't worth the mora to argue too long.

"Hmm... I can see that. Based on your own size and how much energy and calories you may burn in a single day, I can't imagine that a full meal or the ingredients to make a meal would be only a few handfuls mora... That among other expenses between two people if you were to include that floating fairy from yesterday would begin to add up greatly..."

At this point, he seems to be talking more to himself than to you, with his left hand, which is adorned with rings, being brought to his chin as he contemplates his own words. You can't help but imagine how Paimon would react if she were here right now, probably saying something along the lines of 'Floating fairy?! Paimon is not a floating fairy! Paimon is Paimon!', you can't help but chuckle to yourself and shake your head fondly at the thought.

"Um.... Yeah. I guess..." You really don't know how else you should respond to that, he's right to an extent but you aren't quite sure what you're supposed to make of this conversation. Pantalone simply chuckles.

"I see, have you not considered the potential of working a single job rather than traveling around as you do? From what I hear, you have a wide variety of skills and talents that could be far more lucrative than the fickle stability of the adventurers' guild..." He questions casually.

"oh um, well it's not really about the mora for me, I mean- it is to some degree because I need to feed myself and Paimon... But i also sometimes just take jobs because people are in need." You explain. Pantalone gives you a curious glance, expecting you to elaborate further.

"People in need? How so?" He questions.

"Well, I mean, look at everything going on. Inazuma just opened its borders, Liyue is now governed by humans, Sumeru lost the Akasha terminal and freed Lesser Lord Kusanali... The world is changing and with it, the situations of people change with it." You explain, unsure of how to really say that you just want to make a difference as you search for your sibling.

"Hm... I see, if only everyone thought that way," He started, "Baizhu and I grew up on the... Less fortunate side of the coin toss... Especially when Baizhu's Illness began to surface... Not many wanted to help us," He says as he gazes around, "And yet, even now, he still insists on working himself day in and day out for the sake of others before himself... I guess this need he has to help others from their illnesses stemmed from when mother and father..." He trails off, thinking to himself.

You could immediately tell that the conversation was getting a bit somber just by his expression.

"Hey um, listen, I don't really know you that well and I don't really want to be told anything that Baizhu himself hasn't said." You explain awkwardly. "I don't want him to think I'm trying to snoop into any personal details about his life, he's my friend and I want to respect that."

Pantalone nods, "I guess that makes sense, I guess since Baizhu has detailed so much about you to me through letters that it almost feels like we know one another personally..." He clears his throat after a moment, "As his friend of course."

You nod to yourself as you continue to search. Your eyes scan the ground and brush for any signs of the bags. Eventually, you find items and papers tossed aside, clearly having been discarded by something or someone. You follow the trail, picking up papers, ink bottles, and other equipment as you go. When you believe you've found the end of the trail you decide to draw your sword just in case, you expect to find an animal or a hilichurl... However, you're stopped dead in your tracks at what had actually ransacked the historian's bag.

Please don't repost my work anywhere else ;w; I plan to post this to AO3 once I update it entirely. I'm not sure how many parts there will be.

#Baizhu x reader #gn reader #traveler!reader #reader is traveler #resder self insert #genshin impact x reader #melodic musings post <3 #genshin impact #sibling rivalry | blog tag

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clearlynotjanus · 3 years

Text

Loceit Week Day 3: Wine/Chess Teaser/WIP

This one's a little rough at the moment so I'm considering it a WIP despite all the plot beats being there. I anticipate having to go back & edit a substantial amount of the phrasing but enjoy what I have of it for now! This was A LOT of fun to write. I had to learn so much about Chess to feel confident writing it & I hope it shows! I based the match they play on Grigory Serper vs Ioannis Nikolaidis' The Immortal Sacrifice Game. Click through to see it played out & analyzed by an amazing Chess Youtuber!

Anyway enjoy this teaser! & as always, if you’d like to be on my tag list to be @’d in works like this as well as my fic related stuff, give this linked post a like or send me a message. If you have any questions or suggestions, my ask box is always open! If you would like to get the rest of this fic early access, please consider subscribing to my Patreon. If you’d just like to support my work or request a writing commission, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. Thanks so much for being an awesome audience 💛

CW: SFW sexual tension, wine Word Count: 5033 Genre: Gen Rating: Teen Ships: Loceit

Taglist: @robertdownerjr @dangitsbrightinhere @iamuncomffy @bimtrimmerr @catalinaacosta @evertriedsoywithyourpopcorn @dragonfander @virgilstarantula @a-rudethude @poptartsaysurloved @serpentinesomebody @the-dead-and-the-decaying @vexelore @the-snekwhisperer-world @whatishappeningrightnow @sanderssidesangsttrash @trash-bastard @indubitably-emo @gay-artist-626 @cosplayhanna @edupunkn00b @wouldntyou-liketoknow

“Well,” Janus concluded before finishing off his wine in a big gulp. “If he’s going to ditch me, I’m not going to do him the service of talking about him all night,” He said with exaggerated contempt, pouring himself more wine. “I know it isn’t quite rescuing Thomas from financial disaster,” Janus continued as he turned & topped off Logan’s drink. “But what would you say to a game?”

“A game?” He questioned, slowly bringing the nearly over-filled glass to his lips for a delicate sip. “I suppose that depends on what genre, though I can’t imagine your choice would be dull.”

Janus grinned impishly. “Splendid,” The word was almost melodic as he departed the kitchen. Logan blinked & followed blindly before realizing Janus meant for them to sit in their usual spots at the table.

Without more instruction, Janus reached behind himself for a square box that leaned between the bookshelf & wall. It only took Logan a moment to realize what was happening as it was placed on the table & opened.

“Ah,” Despite himself, a small smirk curved his lips. “Are you sure you want to challenge me at Chess?” Confidence radiated off Logan suddenly as he settled in his chair. It was utterly inconceivable to him that any Side could even come close to checking him, let alone claiming an outright victory.

“Well I figure,” Janus started, eyes focused on the task of setting up their pieces, “Monopoly & Clue are no fun without others, & I’m not quite in the mood for anything trivia based tonight, so,” He finished with a one handed shrug, meeting Logan’s eyes innocently as he took a long sip of his glass.

“I don’t think you should take this so lightly,” Logan warned in a smug tone that made Janus’ stomach warm with anticipation. “The last time Remus & I played, he swallowed his own Queen to keep from being checked again.”

“You know that hardly means anything, he’d swallow pieces for less,” Janus chuckled & Logan joined after a moment. “But don’t worry about me,” He comforted slyly as their laughter ended. He propped his elbows up on the table & folded his hands beneath his chin. “I can hold my own.”

“We will see about that,” Logan promised as adjusted forward in his seat. He gave a small movement with both hands, gesturing at the board. “White moves first.”

Janus smiled lopsidedly, gave a curt nod, & began the game. From the start, his aggression was obvious even if his face & body language said otherwise. With slow & soft hands, he moved three pawns forward, already beelining for Logan’s side of the board as he maintained a neutral expression. Logan’s movements were direct & calculated as he prepared both of his halves with two forward pawns & a defensive angle from his Bishop. Unprompted, Janus brought forward his Knight; Logan blinked & paused before meeting Janus’ eyes & mirroring the move.

“Hm,” Janus hummed brusquely. He placed his other Knight on guard in front of his King.

“Hmm?” Logan mimicked, drawing the sound out as a question. He placed his other Knight in front of his Queen.

“Nothing,” He sang quietly with a sudden offensive move from the Knight Logan had assumed would remain defensive on his King.

Preemptively Logan moved a pawn to set up his own attack. Janus paid no mind as he enlisted his Bishop forward. Another black pawn. Janus’ other Bishop. Carefully still playing for both sides of his board, Logan moved an opposite pawn again. Cryptically playing in the center of his, Janus went forward with another of his own pawns.

“You really shouldn’t play like that,” Janus reprimanded, breaking the surmounting tension that Logan only noticed with its absence. He leaned back in his chair, crossing an arm as he took a long sip from his glass. The edges of Logan began to go pleasantly fuzzy & the warmth in his stomach grew into a gentle hunger. “It never ends well,” Janus waved at the board.

Logan cleared his throat & reached to relieve the dryness there with his wine. Janus’ playstyle was nearly as chaotic as Remus’, he mused, but even with a neutral expression, it felt far more purposeful. What that purpose was seemed to be going right over Logan’s head. Perhaps he was giving Janus more credit than he deserved with that thought, though this was the Side that had planned their swap in April which led to an undeniable win in that discussion. Logan pursed his lips & nodded at the board.

“Let’s continue.”

Janus chuckled & splayed his fingers, welcoming Logan’s turn; which was to capture Janus’ intruding pawn with his own, only prompting Janus to quickly do the same as though that was exactly what he had been expecting Logan to do. Pawn for pawn, Logan sighed & pressed his Queen forward. Janus Castled his Queen into the corner.

“Told you so,” He whispered like a song & Logan narrowed his eyes. The harsh expression made Janus smirk despite himself, only making Logan’s frustration grow.

Firmly Logan moved his pawn forward, forcing Janus to retreat his Knight. On the offensive now, Logan attacked knowingly with his own Knight. Janus’ brow twitched as he stared at the board’s new arrangement -- did he see it? Logan watched apprehensively as the wine-greased gears in his head turned. He was one move from Check via his Knight. After a moment that passed fast enough to convince Logan Janus knew exactly what he was doing, his eyes lifted. His expression was taunting & entertained as he deliberately slid his Queen forward one space, conceding before the mess unfolded.

Logan sighed heavily with loose cheeks & leaned back against his chair, crossing his arms. Janus laughed genuinely, delight filling him to the brim.

“We can stop,” He offered while knowing Logan would never accept a forfeit like that. In response, he scrunched his face mockingly & reached for his wine, nearly polishing the glass off. Janus held up his hands, surrendering the suggestion. “Your move then, darling.”

Impatiently Logan assessed the board before sitting up & hastily shifting his pawn forward, making room behind the piece. Janus completed his defense around the right half of his board by bringing his Knight ahead again. Preparing for another attack that may have been too daring, Logan pushed his Knight back, instantly clearing a line for his Bishop which now stared directly down the barrel of Janus’ grouped pieces. He inhaled slowly.

“Your move,” Logan taunted with a smirk as Janus paused.

#loceit #janus x logan #sanders sides #tss fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #fic teaser #loceit week

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novantinuum · 4 years

Text

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

#su #su future #steven universe #greg universe #su fanfiction #my writing stuff

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Text

WIP Wednesday

It’s Wednesday, and I can say my block is being steadily chipped away! I’m getting my flow back, and even more so since I have a week long vacation from work coming up! *dances* As such, have a feral Fane! No steady pacing for this boy! *side eyes*

***

“A cloud, huh?”, he mused with a light scoff before shaking his head with a sigh. “You’re reading too much into it.”, he dismissed the allegory with a roll of his eyes before sighing heavily. “I’m just tired, Cyfrin. I’ll be fine once I get going.”, the lie fell from his lips with a practiced ease. Though, he wished it could be the truth. Just once.

“I’m not sure I’m convinced with how often you have been ‘tired’ lately, ma falon. Those dark circles under your eyes have not been getting any lighter..”, Cyfrin pointed out with a more sorrowful tone which had Fane grimacing. He hated hearing those few who cared for him so pained because of...

...because of him.

“Maybe I’m not trying to convince you.”, Fane said before speeding up his strides. “Come on. I’m done with this conversation.”, he said with a lazy wave of his hand. He knew he should open up, to let Cyfrin in, but it wasn’t that easy. It never would be, and the day he did, would be the day the world burned from what had turned his mood dark. By then, it would be too late; it wouldn’t matter. So, he would just let nature take its course and drown him in the rain Cyfrin wanted him to release.

...Even as he yearned for such a cathartic act.

I always yearn for something. How pathetic. Fane thought with more creeping bitterness, the sweetness of the apple from before that lingered upon his tongue now tasting just as bitter as he felt. How reality ruined such things in the blink of an eye.

Fane put a bit of distance between him and Cyfrin, though he did hear the man call out to him in a sorrowful whisper. He almost glanced over his shoulder at that, the guilt nearly suffocating him, but that beseeching call was drowned out as one welcome, calming voice rang as clear as a bell through the darkness - his sensitive ears zeroing in on its melodic cadence without hesitation.

However, and he noticed within moments, that that tender calming tone wasn’t so set in stone with the underlying threat it carried as warning words echoed down the path to him. Fane furrowed his brows as he gingerly, slowly took a few more steps towards where the voice was coming from before hearing two. His eyes narrowed as he realized who the second voice belonged to, clenching his fists tightly as agitation wrapped around his mind like a leash, but he didn’t surge forward, didn’t barrel down the path. He had to stay calm. He had to stay calm. He had to--

“I will freeze your hands should they touch me again, Avan! So, I suggest you keep them to yourself!”, Mhairi’s lilting voice rang through the trees like the bird songs about, warning and exasperated.

“Come now, ma’da’ean. I only want to hear you sing in that wonderful voice of yours.”

The raspy, nasally vibrato of that voice had Fane’s leash of control nearly snapping as it regrettably sank into his mind, the Elvhen endearment that had flowed out so clumsily and so disgustingly nearly making him want to retch all over again. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths as his body became hotter, tighter, angrier. He had to stay calm. He had to remain in control. It was only words. Only. Words. Empty, void filled, and easily forgotten. They wouldn’t stick to him, invade him like magic and metal had!

“I am not your ‘little bird’, nor will I ever be! So, once again, leave me alone!”

The veiled desperation in Mhairi’s voice had Fane’s nostrils flaring, the scent of the forest around him suddenly smelling like iron and decaying vegetation. He slowly lifted a gloved hand to his face, his fingers and palm trembling as rage and the want to bolt and crash into the main camp radiated throughout his entire body. His face twisted into a snarl as his head began to throb, his forgotten headache finally making a reappearance as the world around him seemed to awash itself in foreboding pink. Slowly, Fane let his hand run down his twitching face, taking shuddering breaths to calm his flaming body and his darkening mind. Calm, calm, calm, calm, ca--

“Stop it! Stop!”, Mhairi’s gentle voice rang through the air in a shrill, remaining birds and curious squirrels scrambling away by foot or by wing from its disconcerting pitch.

Fane felt his body seize up as the hand that he had been rubbing his face with stopped dead in its wandering, his palm clasped over his mouth. The shrill, desperate, nearly crying tone of Mhairi’s voice had his eyes narrowing, his lips curling, his mind shattering as the word ‘calm’ was replaced with one undoubtedly soaked in dread crimson. Not grey, not black; crimson. The world around him seemed to match that hue as pink shifted, the sky catching his eye from above to warble minutely with it. His mind whirled, his breathing increased into dark, deep huffs as he let his hand drop to his side. The white tips of his hair brushed against the high points of his cheekbones as Fane tilted his head back, unabashedly meeting the sky’s crimson glare with his own emerald - gold before everything seemed to ring with black along its edges. For once, it did not frighten - did not fill him with grey indifference. No, no indifference. Only…

...black destruction, and a desire to watch his hands paint it with scarlet blood. If blue rain would not soothe him, then crimson rain would. Oh, it would, and he wouldn’t stop until his heart no longer yearned for it.

***

Yeah, yeah, Fane’s unhinged already. Don’t mess with Mhairi. Just saying.

Tagging the loveliest of people: @oxygenforthewicked @shift-shaping @little-lightning-lavellan @noire-pandora @dreadfutures @another-rogue-trevelyan and anyone else I may have forgotten since brain! (no pressure and let me know if the tags are unwelcome! <3)

Edit: Also, thank you @oxygenforthewicked and @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold for the tags! My notifications didn’t tell me anything until I had posted this, so RIP me. But I’m fixing it now! >:D

#wip wednesday #wip #dragon age #my writing #oc: fane lavellan #oc: cyfrin azurel #emerald eyes amidst golden vows #the littlest things will set fane off pre Inquisition #his frame of mind is wobbly #it gets better then it get worse and then better #it's a see saw!#oc: mhairi lavellan #my fanfiction #solavellan

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flourchildwrites · 3 years

Text

Six years after their escape to the human world, the Grace Field children live together in a happy, harmonious home. Twenty-one-year-olds, Ray, Norman and Emma, have folded themselves into modern society and work tirelessly to provide for their younger siblings, putting the greater good of their family before their personal needs. But as children turn to into teenagers, new house rules come into play. Norman, convinced that Emma will never remember their unique childhood bond, makes a bold proposition — to prohibit romantic relationships between the Grace Field children and end his hopes for something more with Emma once and for all.

Ray knows all too well how dangerous it is to reignite a spark, but for the happiness of Emma and Norman, he's always been willing to burn.

Fandom: Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)

Relationships/Pairings: Emma/Norman (Endgame), Emma/Ray (Fake Dating), Norman & Ray, Emma & Ray

Genre: Post-Canon (Spoilers for Anime-Only Fans), Fake/Pretend Relationship

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12,930 words (incomplete 3/5)

A/N: Oh, hi! So it's been a while, but I have neither dropped off the face of the Earth nor given up on this fic. Sometimes, I just have to wait until I'm in the right state of mind to write a chapter. Until next time....

Chapter 3

The cuckoo clock on the wall of Norman’s study is an ornate piece of artistry. It does its job fashionably and without complaint, keeping time with as much precision as its pendulum can muster. Norman likes to lose himself to the details of the carved wood. The dancing animals and crisp steeples that surround the clock face never fail to interest him when his thoughts turn sluggish at the end of the day.

Norman would happily wile away his evening hours waiting for the clock’s melodic chime to sound at the top of the hour, but this is not the gift’s purpose. Instead, it is meant as a constant reminder that time itself is a precious commodity. Mike Ratri gave him the clock upon his admission to law school. And though Norman’s enthusiasm for the present has dissipated, he cannot disagree with the principle behind the clock’s coded message.

Time can be a beautiful, but unforgiving mistress; yesterday’s opportunities are lost in the past, gone forever.

Perhaps, Norman muses, for his next graduation, he will receive a high-end watch from the Ratri clan. Then he, along with his time, will be literally and figuratively shackled to the course the family’s scion has mapped out for him. Norman knows he is regarded as the best of the bunch, the poster child amongst the extraordinary children born and raised in the demon world. Ever rational, he cannot disagree with that conclusion.

Still, he rakes a finger under the collar cinched around his neck to loosen his tie and fusses with the first few buttons of his pressed shirt. The emblem of Lambda 7214 peeks out from underneath the scoop neck of his undershirt, and not for the first time, Norman traces the tattoo’s hard lines where they are exposed. Compared to this marking, the numbers on his neck are practically forgettable.

Norman isn’t like the other Grace Field children, not since Peter Ratri’s malicious experiments. Neither can he lump himself in with the other Lambda survivors. Though Barbara never shies away from advocating for the latter.

“Are you even listening?” Barbara’s voice is shrill as it comes from the cellphone wedged between Norman’s shoulder and ear.

In the background, he can hear boxing gloves rhythmically pound against a punching bag. Norman doesn’t like lying to Barbara; he knows what the woman is capable of when she’s feeling feisty. But after hearing the juicy gossip from the younger children in his house, concerning a date between two certain someones, Norman’s mind refuses to focus on administrative matters. Still, he tries to soldier on as if nothing is amiss.

“Of course,” Norman fibs. “You’re concerned about the benefit, just like you are every year. And every year, it turns out fine. We get our funding; the Ratri family keeps their moral high ground.”

The sound of hard punch startles Norman, and Barbara pauses, slightly winded, before responding. “But the problem is that they want Zazie to attend this year. Zazie!”

The thought causes Norman to pause. He is wont to recall Zazie as he once was — a child stuck in an overgrown body with a paper bag hiding his face and twin swords strapped to his back. But Zazie, like his brothers and sisters, has grown into his shaggy hair, and in his case, his mental strides are much more impressive.

“What does Zazie think about attending the benefit?”

Barbara scoffs. “He’s fine with going for a little while as long as he isn’t on his own, but why should he waste his precious words on that family ? They don’t fund his therapy out of charity; they pay for it because his hardships, all our hardships, are their fault.”

Normally, Norman would play devil’s advocate. He would remind Barbara that Mike isn’t like Peter and point out that most of the advances made on behalf of the cattle, Lambda and farm children are funded by the donations of the benefit’s attendees. But tonight, Norman has no such fight in him. He has four cases to read and brief, an argument to draft for his legal writing class and a Ray-and-Emma-shaped problem that seems to become more bizarre by the minute.

“I’ll talk to Mike and see if we can defer Zazie’s involvement,” Norman capitulates, rubbing at his neck as his to-do list grows longer. “He may look like an adult, but he’s still a teenager. It can be easy to forget.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other side of Norman’s cell phone connection.

“Are you feeling alright, boss?”

A part of Norman wants to laugh, a great big belly laugh that would draw the kind of attention the household head does his best to avoid. Of course, he isn’t alright. It was a relief when he first made the decision to impose a fraternization ban, but then, Ray went and asked Emma out just to spite him.

Clever, impulsive asshole.

How could Norman go through with it after that? Either he would have seemed like a heartless roadblock or a jealous cockblock to his siblings. And neither alternative comes close to the truth, an inconvenient conundrum that’s been eating away at him for years.

Norman exhales, long and slow, and because he can ordinarily be (somewhat) honest with Barbara, he doesn’t lie to her this time. He won’t divulge the whole, messy truth. For that, he wouldn’t even know how to begin. Heavy the head that wears the crown, or in this case, Norman thinks it’s more along the lines of a cape.

“No,” he responds, “I’m not alright. But I’m sure I’ll be fine after exams. I just need some time to rest and get my head on straight. No need to be concerned.”

There’s a flurry of movement coming from Barbara’s side of the connection, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds unflinchingly clear. Norman braces himself when he realizes she’s paused her evening workout and taken herself off speakerphone.

“Far be it for me to suggest that you shouldn’t be living with the Grace Field kids, but you’re also one of us — a Lambda experiment. We have different needs, and Lambda House could provide you with much more support or at least a break from being in charge. Come live with us and let someone else run things over there. We all miss you, boss. Maybe someone could help you for a change.”

A lump sticks in Norman’s throat, and he swallows it, ready to make excuses that never arrive. Words fail him for the umpteenth time in a handful of days. Suddenly hot, he scratches the back of his neck and shrugs off his collared shirt entirely. The top of his Lambda 7214 tattoo remains on full display. Sometimes, he hides it so well that he begins to believe his own lies, but there are moments when the truth corrodes his carefully constructed facade.

Norman may be the brightest child from the demon world, but he’s also damaged goods, marked in ways that Ray (for example) is not.

He could live at Lambda House. Correction, he should live at Lambda House to better avail himself of the on-call therapists for his night terrors and have his medication managed with more regularity. But then, there would be no reason for Norman to oversee the Grace Field children’s home. He wouldn’t be able to drag himself down to breakfast each morning to find her, Emma, sipping her coffee and joking around with the younger children, or feel his heart flutter when wishes him well in the evenings.

Norman stays because she’s worth all the small inconveniences and then some. The time in between, the numbing hours spent studying, problem-solving and balancing the books, are a means to an end. Emma always tips the scale in Grace Field’s favor. Even with an anti-fraternization rule, Norman doesn’t expect his feelings to change.

Nevertheless….

“I’ll think about it,” Norman hears himself say, and he ends the call promptly with promises to be in touch soon simply to put the matter to rest.

Read the rest on AO3!

#tpn #noremma #the promised neverland #yakusoku no neverland #tpn emma #tpn norman #tpn ray #tpn phil #manga spoilers #flourchildwrites #when the mood strikes her

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make-me-imagine · 4 years

Note

LotR #5 & PotC #3 for ships please? I'm a bi femalw w/a slightly higher preference for men. I daydream a lot and often get lost in my created worlds. I have a thing for scented bar soaps and candles, and nifty lamps. I'm from Midwest America so dark stormclouds, high winds, and heavy rains and my favorite weather aesthetic. Sometimes I have trouble relating to people, so when I find people who don't mind being with me, I get really attached to them. (1/2) - 🌪💙

Special 5k Ship Event (Read post if your going to request)

Hope you like ‘em! :)

Lord of the Rings:

I ship you with Faramir. Faramir would really like you and you personality. He would feel very relaxed around you, and he makes it very easy for you to feel comfortable around him. He is very kind, so you know you can trust him with anything, He could tell when he first met you that you often had a hard time bonding with people, so he was very gradual in his introductions at first, because he didn’t want to intimidate you, and wanted to grow closer to you. You grew fond of him fairy quickly, as he did with you.

Prompt #5: Reunion

It had been a long journey back to Gondor. You had not been back to your home country in years, so it was time for you to return. You had been away from Gondor for nearly two months now, and missed it dearly, especially Faramir.

He was your favorite thing about Gondor, he was the one who made it feel like home. He was home to you.

So as you made it to the top the hill, Gondors tall towers peaking in the distance, you smiled widely as the prospect of seeing your love again.

Moving quickly, you grew closer and closer to the gates of Gondor, your excitement growing by the minute. After passing through the gates you made your way through the city, greeting those you knew as you passed.

Entering the castle walls you wandered down the familiar passageways, there was much about Gondor you disliked, but you grew to love it’s rock walls in your own time.

Turning down another hall, you halted in your steps, seeing a familiar figure at the end of the hall. He sat on a windowsill, paper in his hands as he read quietly. A fond, yet excited smile crossed your face.

“Faramir” you greeted gently.

His head snapped up at the sound of your familiar melodic voice. You saw the surprise on his face turn into excitement. You knew your presence was unexpected, as you were originally not supposed to return for another four days.

“Y/n” he greeted happily as he rose to his feet, quickly making his way to you.

When he reached you, he quickly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly, pressing a kiss to your temple. Pulling away he smiled brightly at you before kissing you in greeting.

“You’ve returned early” he mused as he cupped your face in his hands.

“Yes, I had no reason to stay thee any longer than I had, besides, I wanted to come home. To you” you finished with a smile.

He smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips “And I couldn’t be happier”.

Pirates of the Caribbean (this is what PotC is right? It honestly took me forever to figure that out lol, so I hope I’m right)

I ship you with Elizabeth. (I almost shipped you with Will, but I think you and Elizabeth would make a bomb couple lol). She is passionate and kind and would never doubt you. You two share the same tastes in music, scents, and weather preferences. Elizabeth never expects you to be someone you are not so she is definitely comfortable and 100% okay with who you are.

Prompt #3: Proposal

(Had a bit of trouble with this one, I’m sorry it kind of sucks. It doesn’t necessarily take place during any specific time)

You stared off of the deck of the ship, the sound of babbling pirates and swishing waves filling your ears. The thoughts of how the hell you ever got in this situation ran through your head for the hundredth time.

“Thinking about home?” Elizabeth questioned as she came to stand next to you.

“No, actually, I was thinking about all of this” you said, while gesturing around you “And how the hell we got here. I barely even remember”

She chuckled “I don’t either really” she sighed “But here we are. Pirates. It’s almost liberating. We can do things ordinary people can’t, and actually get away with it. Well, most of the time”

“Get away with what exactly?” you asked, amused.

She smiled at you “We can rob ships, eat and drink when we wish, curse and be vulgar, get married to who we want” she finished with a glance at you.

“Get married to who we want” you repeated, looking over at her “Is it really that easy?” you had an amused tone in your voice.

She looked at you for a moment before turning around, looking for someone “Barbosa!” she called, earning the attention of the man “If we wanted could you marry us?!” she called out, gesturing between the two of you as you stared at her bewildered.

“Of course I could!” he barked out “I’m a Captain, and a Pirate!” he laughed as he shuffled away.

She smiled, looking over at you “See?”

“Wha-” you laughed “Well the least you could do is propose first” you chuckled, amused, though not serious

“Alright” she said as your eyes snapped over to her “Will you marry me?” she asked, a smile on her face though her tone was serious.

“You’re serious aren’t you”

“Deadly” she said bluntly “So?”

You paused for a moment before shaking your head amused “I thought you’d never ask” you giggled “Yes. I’ll marry you”

She beamed at you as the two of you laughed out loud in unison, linking your arms together she rested her head on your shoulder as you looked out at the sea together.

#ship #ship request #ships #5k ships #5k event #ship event #special ships #5k ship event #ask #lord of the rings #faramir #pirates of the caribbean #potc #elizabeth swann #drabble #anon #faramir x reader #elizabeth swann x reader

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daggerzine · 3 years

Text

Celebrity Mixtape Party #3 with celebrity musical guest Jonathan Segel!

Big thanks to our Stockholm correspondent for giving a listen to mixtape number three. I had as much fun reading Jonathan's musings as I did making the mix.

The Neats - 6

I had a thing against this band because of their use of a capital-Lamdba as an A on their band logo, so I always read it as “The Nelts” and by the time I finally understood it was “The Neats” I wasn’t interested. This song is an obvious love poem to 96 Tears, with the organ sound and spy-riff guitar. Nice Pebbles-type music, the lyrics are stupid.

The Chills - I Think I Thought of Nothing Left To Think About

Chills are great, I have always been a fan of the NZ scene, so many good bands. “Driving yet melodic” as they used to say

The Mantles - Don't Cross Town

Nice simple melody guitar intro. Indie band quality recording, good for those in the know (I’m not, though.) Again, the classic guitar/organ with the bass and drums. These guys sound like they learned how to play in order toto form this band.

Magazine - Touch and Go

Nice edgy new wave from Magazine! This is classic stuff, heard on KDVS when I was in high school, making rock music what it needed to be. Listening now, I can hear the glam in it as well.

Naked Raygun - Rollerqueen

Bass driven rock music with droney scream vocals, I guess it was considered punk at the time. But it’s a love song! About a big legged lady, no less. From the punk styles that used Marshall amps, yet claimed to hate the big rockers of the 70s.

The Names - Floating World

Back to the classic 80s organ/chugging guitar/arpeggios with a chorus pedal. I’m glad people made records like this, nobody would tolerate singing like this these days unless it was from teenagers. “let’s go away, far.”

Unrest - Vibe Out

“Vibe out”, vocoded. Bass riff central again, eventually we get to the almost-in-tune girl vocal pair, which I have to say, makes me happy. There’s something about it that makes me happy, especially the suspensions. All strummy strum, downstrokes on the bass, with that pair of crooners melodicizing.

Slant 6 - 30/30 Vision

Ok now we’re in proto-math rock territory, awesome riffs and key changes, great sounds from the guitars and bass. Spoken vocals, again, the almost in tune girl melodics that just get me. Great build to new sections! Faster pace, and a weird phrase for the chorus “30/30 vision” then back to the slow bass riff. I think I would have loved these guys live, never saw them!

New Order - Ceremony

The most pop track so far, most of these bands with the bass-riff intros probably copped it from these guys. This is a great track (and I’m not a super NO fan) with great simple melody and strong guitar and bass parts. I obviously stole something from this song for a song on the second CVB album, “Chain of Circumstance”.

The Sound - Unwritten Law (7" version)

Back to the garage, cool guitar riff on two janglers going slightly stretched tuning wise. I haven’t heard it before. “a hand is a hand a knife is a knife”. Where did these guys come from and where did they go?

Happy Refugees - Enshrined In a Memory

Another 7”, again I’m not in on this band, sounds cool, sort of Fall-ish delivery but with the REM jangle. I’m gonna get good at music trivia.

Television Personalities - Reaching For The Stars

I know these guys, had many albums, so my trivia knowledge is influenced by KDVS. And

The Three Johns - Brainbox

Nice strong song, good recording, complete with the major key anthem fade out.

The Pooh Sticks - Time to Time

Welsh post punks garage rocking it

The Primitives - I'll Be Your Mirror

More 80s bands mirroring the Velvet Underground?

Biff Bang Pow - 7 Seconds

Like UK’s own Paisley Underground. I guess most of this tape is 80s/early 90s Brit snark mixed with a bit of acid.

Party Day - Carousel

Early Goth! This type of bass and to a certain extent guitar, are why I thought the Cocteau Twins were goth at the start, same early 1980s era.

Mick Trouble - Tales of Hank Marvin

(Mick trouble, really? Tales of Hank Marvin! The throwback nostalgia to Hank, doing up the old strummy guitar. It also reminds me a bit of TV P’s)

Bad Sports - Can't Just Be Friends

This is like a love note note 7”. Every time I go you can put me on your stereo.

The Unknowns - Not My Memory

Early 80s when the new wave was crashing and nobody knew what the genre enclosed. I like the way he clucks like a chicken.

Julian Cope - I've Got Levitation

Man, Julian Cope. Was high. That super crack midrange snare is like hyped up Rolling Stones, with this blues progression. He was into cutting high and low end to squeeze more volume out of analog gear. Punchy! You can sort of see where this is going in terms of UK drug and rave culture.

Abecedarians -They Said Tomorrow/Wildflower

I liked these guys, DIY post punk Californians. Sort of into the texture as much as the notes. Moar reeverb!

Red Zebra - The Art of Conversation

Don’t know them, I think…Belgian punkers. Sounds pretty emo these days. Nice gothy chorus on bass and digital delay on guitar. And freaky ending!

Wire - The 15th

Monks of Doom covered this song relatively recently on What’s Left For Kicks (2006) so that version almost supplanted this version! Wire is so weird, they’re always great but somehow unknowable. Like what are they actually talking about? Is it as dire as they make it sound? Love their style with all the direct downstrokes on the guitar and the organ.

The House of Love - Road

Taking the goth and post punk signifiers to the bank via high end production. Emo vocals moving out of the underground. This was toward the end of the A&R

Rote Kapelle - San Francisco Again (partial)

This is obscure. Cool indie (SF, I guess?) boys and girls

Veronica Falls - Bad Feeling

Unknown, cool song, more recent indie Scottish boys and girls?

Close Lobsters - Sewer Pipe Dream

80s Scots, jangly Enigma Records stuff. Nice song, good sounds with the jangles and the fuzz. 80s compulsory snarky lyrics, as usual.

....and here’s the mix!

https://soundcloud.com/user-292047766/jonathan-segel-mix?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=1

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