Uncanned Works
No word or work count to display here, but this is all pieces that don't belong to a "canned" series such as the lamb or a ship challenge.
Variations on a theme: Minoth, migration, and assimilation.
Without knowing how to or not, one follows intuition.
And who is he that should count sour fruit as a gain?
There isn't really a culture around that, thought Nia. At least, not to her knowledge.
Minoth always struggles to feel at home.
I don't let myself write little things anymore. But here are a few.
To be constantly on edge, waiting for the next blow to arise...
Some of us are prone to being rattled, per cage.
Pyra and Nia: two pure and noble spirits, clamoring and rising free.
This is all leading up to the moment where we know we have finally found God.
There are many such variants of this poem and no true original source that I can find.
(not to be taken seriously)
I want something. God damn me, I want something. But what is it? What is it?
I don't know what my perfect story looks like. Do I want to?
I've got to start talking back to myself, it seems.
Minoth was that perfect mean between industrious and lazy: pragmatic.
endless possibilities - that's all they are.
all that i am for was then. now is only nothing.
half a life never appealed to me
take a picture, it'll last longer
it'll last forever
it'll never die
it'll last forever
it'll never die
An essay on the expectations we have for others' expectations.
maybe this year's gonna be my year. or maybe i'll just learn to live with being alone.
Addam can protect Hugo from things he'd never dreamed of.
Pyra wonders how to find her way, as the future floating within and without the past - and no, it won't be by counting!
this is such a fake Ass quote
out with the in with the
"And the mayor thinks I'm lazy-"
"Why would the mayor think you're lazy?"
"Why would the mayor think you're lazy?"
waffliesinyoface asked:
hello! i was going through my ao3 bookmarks the other day and i noticed that all of the ones written by you had been archived into a collection, inaccessible. Can I ask why? Is it just a temporary precaution, or are they gone for good?
hello! i was going through my ao3 bookmarks the other day and i noticed that all of the ones written by you had been archived into a collection, inaccessible. Can I ask why? Is it just a temporary precaution, or are they gone for good?
wouldn't you, too, like to know something new?
Like static, she clings.
You realize that grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. That this is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this - to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life. [*]
Grief, I've learned, is really just love...love with no place to go. [*]
Grief, I've learned, is really just love...love with no place to go. [*]
I keep trying to articulate - a message, no recipient; have I failed?
i've got to be what i'm trying to be. i've got to see what it's like to be me.
"Look around wherever you want," Cole said. "I've got no secrets."
Oh, but Nia wished he had.
Oh, but Nia wished he had.
but this way he'd only be losin' one daughter, 'stead o' two.
Everybody always says: we take you as you are.
History lives forever. Don't you think?
To get where? To get here.
What kind of sick imperative is this?
Obviously - Mythra likes to be sure.
Mythra wonders - is it enough to be beautiful?
as plain as the tears on my face
But if patience for the self is a universal good, there's a little more of it, now.
C(13,2) shuffled as necessary: my characteristic weakness at work.
You got Nothing !
Maybe redundant, but never irrelevant.
There's a curious sort of crosswalk between mech pilots and magical girls; being able to enter into an idealized human body to perform violence but not having your emotional well-being protected by your ideal form.
I wanted to practice a direct style and unfocus on the word count.
A kiss for luck and we're on our way... Not so simple as.
Quite fine in filigree indeed!
I'd love to be able to just drop it. But it's heavy, you know.
That's how it is. That's how it was. That's how it'll always be.
Cole's office ain't big enough for the three of them.
Minoth is constantly second-guessing what's "supposed" to be. When will he learn to trust, as they do?
young people. we're all just young people.
Or something, something, something like that...
It all came back to this, it seemed.
Flora won't deny it, the cap'n is a rare one.
"Men are so hot and cute and wonderful and for what" - Belmont PhaseSkeith
Everything hurts so much more and so much less than it's supposed to.
Glimmer's a fast thinker. Zeke's a slow chef. So, she gets cooking.
A galaxy with a penchant for forming and emitting self-destructive star, after star, after star...indeed, that's Mythra.
How can it be a second wind? There's hardly any motion at all.
Thank the heavens! The kid is alright.
As if anyone could possibly know what Glimmer had been through.
Only time can tell how far forward the connection will carry.
The extent of your will; like a song that presents proudly its motifs and develops them all, all, all.
Shania's life that could have been...
Mythra could see it so clearly in her mind's eye. It was beautiful.
flora ass fic 2: cole
But they've got their own concerns. Haven't they?
What if Lora had found Minoth - as was her wont to do?
Their communication isn't much better than that of petulant little boys, really.
Today, this fine Wednesday, I worried endlessly about dates and the impossible task of preserving the human mind. But everything is alright, after all.
It has always been summarily obvious what Cammuravi is. Might that not also be who he is?
Sena often keeps Aegaeon up at night, but he doesn't mind.
Despite her most ardent impatience, Glimmer knows she'll put up with anything, for Miyabi. Yeah, and she'll be good at it, too.
How bold they are! But of course Godcleaver and Stoutheart should be nothing but.
Taion would figure a way through this, even if it meant asking counsel from Eunie.
Minoth struggles with proximity to Addam.
Lora discusses the thousand natural shocks with Minoth.
They're swift and sure, stronger together. They always will be.
Does Dunban's heightened awareness come at a cost? Thanks, but no thanks.
Cole marks himself much too old to survive a lightning strike, but he's got no choice, now, has he?
"So...since when did you two get all buddy-buddy?"
"I don't know about buddy-buddy - I think it's more like lovey-dovey!"
"I'm usually oblivious to things like this, but if I didn't know any better, I'd even say you were flirting."
"I don't know about buddy-buddy - I think it's more like lovey-dovey!"
"I'm usually oblivious to things like this, but if I didn't know any better, I'd even say you were flirting."
It didn't work out, and it was never going to. Maybe that's a good thing.
Isn't it so good to be there when you're needed?
Maybe the goal isn't so grand as all that.
With a swift counterwave, Aegaeon evades all risk of catching feelings.
Aegaeon is a weird girl for sure. Might he also be a mean girl?
Listen, when you've got two buff men seemingly predisposed, even predestined, to adore your every move...you take advantage of it.
Her elemental affinity tends frosty; of course there's another side to it.
(kallvis, bit by bit)
Twenty Africans were brought to Jamestown to be sold into bondage, the first Africans brought to Britain's North American colonies.
The Virginia House of Burgesses was formed, thus creating a body to record and enforce contracts between servants and masters.
A ship load of women were brought in to be servants.
The Virginia House of Burgesses was formed, thus creating a body to record and enforce contracts between servants and masters.
A ship load of women were brought in to be servants.
Not what I identify as. What I identify with. What I speak to and what speaks back to me.
I assume you know everything I feel, by everything I do. That there is no other avenue available to me.
Two little ladies, acting just as ladies should - enjoying each other's company, that is!
It's still floraminoade, of course, but with the provisions that Addam and Flora, and Minoth alongside, are just a little smarter and just a little stupider, but both in all the right ways, towards a silliest, most serendipitous middle-end interlude between more important events.
(collection of rarepair drabbles by request - six months later)
Shania had been cut off from the knees since birth, it felt like. But maybe Ghondor could help with that.
No one could ever mistake Ghondor for a guy. Not really.
Not brooms...nor brims.
"I am yours, you are mine - you are what you are."
A cat is a cat - how about that?
One such universal constant: anachronism.
Your favorite floral family...
So messy. So discomposed. So ungovernable.
An essay on the expectations we have for others' expectations.
It's an out-and-out open secret. It's something too trivially obvious to be spoken.
What are the tips of our fingers for, if not feeling? Prints infinitesimal, which do all the thinking for us.
Penn soared so long he left the gazette without picking up Traysi's last, and most crucial, lead.
ask it where it was, and how it got there
Let me tell you what I'm worried about (but it won't stop the rain).
Goldie often imagined that she would be a wonderful friend of the Koroks...if she could see them.
Do you fancy yourself a humorist?
The selling price of a large chunk of Zonaite or a Giant Brightbloom Seed is a mere 6 Rupees. A standard chunk or a normal seed, 3.
Goldie has an insightful chat with something resembling a brick wall.
on courage
on power
A litany for moving forward.
How Brighid could be on fire, forever, and not be consumed was an enigma to Mòrag. It shouldn't have been, though - Mòrag herself had survived the flames many a time.
An unfortunate truth...
Contrived as it might have been, the warriors of distant lands found community while waiting on a friend.
Two straightforward girls make a simple, sweet promise.
Oh, it was destiny. A siren call to power.
if i concentrate hard enough, i can fall fast in love with what has been and what may be.
Through the gate, there breathes a deeper sigh; aspirations are born in tandem.
The return of rosefic: Jin ponders.
We cannot stop straining and crying to be enough.
sunday's hope is monday's gush; lest we not forget, amid the rush
Attemptedly artful, but in execution...not so much.
A train of thought on the boxes I keep myself in.
Why is my own obstinance the sternest task?
Central tenet: old people have got it figured OUT.
Did they not all have a desperate desire to understand? Was that too base, too simple?
It's a difficult thing, gravity.
i've seen real lesbians, in my life now.
Sometimes there really is a chance that extends, gleaming, forever.
I could have sworn...ah, but no, the big world has its little rules.
Creeping out to lay our shadows, boldly we must go.
And love is always leading forward, too brave ever to be falling back.
Very limited in scope. There may be more, later.
sure fine whatever
As a blade, forged in the fire...
It is merely quintessence that serves to align these fixed, tracing stars.
This evaluation should be a note of love - not just have, but be.
It never leaves me. I cannot leave.
neither here nor there but a secret third thing
who will emplace me? who will provide the permission?
This is what I was taught. This is what was very nearly forced upon me.
This is what I have learned. This is what I cannot discard.
This is what I have learned. This is what I cannot discard.
I want a drink...to wash all the filth that is deep in my guts.
"They call it longing because it takes forever."
We know so little. We trust (we hope) so much.
What a beautiful goal: to be glowing.
Femslash February 2024 title cleanup!
Only in this manner may desires be permitted.
There should be some word for it, in that ever-relevant dictionary of obscure sorrows: the feeling of getting hopelessly lost in an empty room.
Take it to the end of the measure. Come on, sing it, now.
I'm told I give wonderful hugs. Who's there waiting for me?
Be serious, now. Be real.
(teaching as a metaphor for love)
There are certainties, on this earth.
Think about it.
Indulge me the melodrama - it's all I have to give.
Good things don't come easy.
It's hard to hide your scars from someone who knows the knife. And one thing about wounds - they're open.
What entropy is there in a feedback loop?
We fit as naturally as anything. Oh, boy, do we.
So, of course, the address by "dear Hugo" to "dear Addam" is a hot, distant euphoria.
All love, all closeness; a pressure and a release.
Things we know to be true. Things we don't dare to hope. And one forges the other.
Almost there...forever.
Uncomplicated affection may be the idyll, but it's not the rule.
Time alone, watching the flow.
It has always been true that beautiful things grow where we let them.
Animals, trapped in bodies with overthinking minds.
(collection of ship drabbles by request)
Post with instructions to hijack:
The kind of thing that remained, across universes.
No mitigating circumstances now - it's only common sense.
On the merits of being true to one's own self.
In a world like this, you really are damned lucky if you find what you're looking for.
truths only discovered with lips sealed and minds mumbling.
Or, poetry in motion.
Indeed, that we all were so satisfied with that which stays.
"You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."
You know you're not special, right?
Now this, my friend, is living!
(To be read, perhaps, in the voice of Dr James Grime)
It would be impossible to pin every single influence. But Mik considered that maybe this had been one.
Something of a...note to self.
And the story just kept on going.
Why wouldn't we be proud of you? You do so many good things.
how can i describe the place where the light gets in? it's dark
should be - and someday, isDon't tell me you ever saw someone who was told to do something, and was happy about it.
we must learn to ask this.
Three possibilities, each equally likely and equally embarrassing.
Following an adventure in the browser console to retrieve the prior entries I hadn't written down, here are the discards from my XSW experiment. Primarily platonic except where it would be funny to do something else. Completed in entirety...one year later.
Goodness gracious! Girls kissing!
A novelization of the eponymous sidequest, with added focus on the exposition it provides for Minoth's backstory and mindset.
The relic reignited wonders.
over, and over, and it's over again
Them's the rules, I'm afraid: no-account children have only one purpose, and it's to be loved.
An old one, on a whim.
I knew him well, and hath borne him on my back a thousand times. Continue to do so, in point of fact. We will not speak of such an end.
This cat kills fascists!
Nia cackled. Melia steamed.
A wonderful time was had by all.
A wonderful time was had by all.
The great struggle; even, a war. Addam has only difficulty.
This is a test post for my neocities upload scripts. Wahoo!
Let's suppose Minoth hangs onto a surviving Torna. What next?
"would that we all were excited about the small things and didn't have to suffer innocently"
Such a clever question, this one. Such an impossibly simple solution.
And, truth to tell, she lights up well, so I, for one, don't blame her!
But, fierce and bold, in fiery gold, he glories all effulgent!
The predictable conclusion, Minoth thought, was that he was being taken...stock of. As usual.
Kissing, huh?
Gala is a little shy...
Billy's a rare one, among his generation. Of course Minoth's always more or less known that.
thank you berry for enabling me
The edge, a line, is a concept of two dimensions. The tip, a point, is a concept of one.
And time is the fourth. And space is the third.
And Spock will be dissatisfied in all of them, forever.
And time is the fourth. And space is the third.
And Spock will be dissatisfied in all of them, forever.
You know what they say - great minds think alike.
Gala and Bart share some tender moments while camping.
The smallest things - like termites, or stolen kisses - often mean the most.
One thing that was blessedly easy for Addam and Minoth: they could always, always take up others' contention to make up their distracted-out own.
She'll be damned if she lets these antiquated contraptions of brass-bore battery get the best of her. Not only that, but she'll be embarrassed.
(collection of kiss drabbles by request)
It's not compulsory heterosexuality. It's something much stupider than that.
The justification is as follows, for blathering on and on:
In attempt to be earnest, all things turn nonsensical.
Addam learns to give his wife a kiss.
Addam learns to give his wife a kiss.
(hope you don't)
Give it up. Give it all up.
But what it has got...is pretty good, I'd say.
Another experiment. Another attempt.
Through the visor, Fiora sees diamonds and diophantine dilemmas.
They all have so much pain.
They all have so much pain.
Good to get it all out in the open, right?
I didn't have to...but I wanted to.
Sena has spent the previous eight-and-some terms of her life thinking in ors only.
The burdensome light of evening time draws clear its vital intentions.
A mother never forsakes. A mother only copes, clutches, clings.
Mio is counting her blessings.
each song a blessing
Minoth hasn't lived in Auresco for long, but it's not the city that makes him feel like he's on the brink of something too big to understand.
Maybe they should all just stop talking for a while, and see what happened then.
Explanations between people can be as fine or as flimsy as they like.
"I hope you trust me, Minoth."
Minoth's face, just then, carries the most forlorn look Egil has ever seen.
Minoth's face, just then, carries the most forlorn look Egil has ever seen.
Haze is happy. That needn't always mean a bad thing, you know!
Such are promises...
There are rules, and then there are exceptions. Minoth is, as ever, quite a troubled, indecisive soul.
There are rules, and then there are exceptions. Minoth is, as ever, quite a troubled, indecisive soul.
Just try and stop me!
Imagine gem crafting with Alvis - "To me!" "To you, Shulk."
What a fine friend have I!
And remember the better words later - to say surely, in your heart.
Whatever he is, whoever they are, he's got to go all in for meaning.
Homecoming is passed down like a treasure through the ranks, as each cohort bubbles up.
"You look just like him."
"Truly?"
"Truly?"
To a flower, the soil is only full of nutrients. Not the corpses beneath.
What about bugs? You guys got any bugs?
Jin isn't used to sleeping with other people. Addam respects that, but he's also a massive cajoler. As is Lora.
Florid flashes tattoo the scene. Like seeing inside marrow, between bones.
What follows on from family...can't be too bad, then, can it?
Nia doesn't take cues from anyone but Melia, thank you very much.
We all need someone to lean on - and not just for three seconds, and over! No, no. A good long while.
No, the Aegis is not a silent, glowing angel operative. She's a loud, angry, finicky teenage girl.
!Liar. Liar, liar, liar
"You need a haircut, badly. 'Cause you've already got this hole in your head."
Mythra's an ace at brute-forcing it.
Mythra's an ace at brute-forcing it.
Aionios isn't quite a perpetual motion machine. But it's...something like that.
After it all, it is still about rights, and reassertions.
With use case expended, they expire together.
And so the ridiculous miracle becomes a commonplace.
The feeling of drowning, alone, is quite familiar to Rex.
Inherently: version history - commit history. Where've we been, and how did we get here?
And still the warmth lingers, even in untouchable places.
Of course I know him. He's me.
humans see what they want to see
"So you were together, with Alvis?"
I've heard it said that it's not the responsibility of the listener to keep attentive. No, you have to captivate - and you have to earn.
you can shine, you can shine, you can shine
Clear the logs. Close the accounts.
"I've got nothing to be afraid of."
"You're sure?"
"You're sure?"
"I cannot help my suspicion."
"I know. But I can."
"I know. But I can."
It's another stitch closer to where he wants to be, and another puncture where the light can get in.
One thing she's learned, bein' a proper adult 'n' all: you gotta ask these questions.
100-word Xeno series drabbles sourced from what might be used as a character matchup generator.
Impossible to deplete, unfortunately.
...and what a lovely way to go.
Slow, and gentle, a ripple issuing from the instance of time.
your friend...
The universe is an old soul.
That's bloody brilliant. Well done you!
Now, I don't pretend to tell you how to find happiness and love, when every day is a struggle to survive. But I do insist that you do survive, because the days and the years ahead are worth living for!
Addam, let's do it together!
The night, cool and shifting, is its own little world.
Most people who throw their food do so due to the subconscious fear that if they don't, later they may sit on it !
Always a reason. Always preparation...for that wonderful moment.
Even Vulcans did not define death as the barrier.
Minoth often wondered why so many Blades looked that way.
And, my god, do choose your words wisely.
My dearest, dearest friends.
And I am simply ancient...!
No, no, no - you must watch!
So simple it doesn't need explanation. And on, and on, and on...
Try as she might, Nia can't help but fret over this new...oh, don't call it a conquest. But she finds herself feeling quite triumphant, all the same.
Who ever touched a place like that? Who had either the point or the privilege?
Indeed. They are Ardainian Blades.
Make it make sense!
Uhura could rely on her best guys for anything - including completely hamming it up.
very kind very sweet very mwah
Minoth's quite an independent soul.
Just as long-windedly: the masculine urge to punch a persistent POS right out.
Business as usual, eh?
within your attributes, a vital mutator; for better or for worse, the interface is implemented
Hah, as if.
The unlikely (no, quite likely) Nia- pair are mischief and its maintainer - though perhaps not in the order you'd expect.
what you are, and what you haven't
what you see before you is
what you see before you is
and in the streets the children screamed; the lovers cried, and the poets dreamed
but not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken
but not a word was spoken; the church bells all were broken
like clouds :)
(per mel mellythird:
(per mel mellythird:
"the part of xenoblade x where my player character said 'normalize kissing your girl best friend on the mouth' really hit me"
)Implicit: subtle and sweet.
If you must take issue...well, then grasp it by the horns.
A hollow whistle sounds - causal, or casual?
The bitch is burning. The stars are on fire.
Both were equally afraid of seeing the other again, by the end of it.
Bozeman...well. We're really in it now, aren't we?
(i love this art and it deserves a full piece but by this point i really just need to offload the stale draft ;-;)
(i love this art and it deserves a full piece but by this point i really just need to offload the stale draft ;-;)
Patroka had killed a lot of things.
100-word Xeno series character drabbles, with the theme being, of course, asexuality.
Bio/demographic information for my OC depiction of Addam's wife, each bit in the form of a 100-word drabble.
The bell tolls, ever-beckoning, for those trapped in between.
To be palatial is not to be at peace.
He'd try, at least. Oh, how he wanted to try.
The gang share some special desserts.
A house of dead-eyed stares perches on the shore, permanently faced to the depths.
what is and what should never be
Minoth had a problem. The solution was astoundingly convenient.
(royalty in purpose)
so great, to feel so small
Who could actually know the truth? And did it, by any stroke, matter?
I could be wrong, but I'm not. Now tell me, what kind of love have you got?
I hate to see her going, but I sure do love to see her walking away.
"I'm conducting an experiment," said Amalthus.
Really, it was about learning about people, and learning how very, very far they all had to go.
Everybody settle in, now.
Minoth tried to keep his thoughts orderly, with at least some sort of artistic point, but it was...difficult.
i'll make you even prouder
(whatever you say)
(whatever you say)
Aletta is a simple, warm country home. Of course Minoth's first real escape from Indol is all bound in to love.
how're you doing?
Handset, with love.
And so the commonplace becomes a ridiculous miracle.
It's all that matters.
Minoth makes a diagnosis, one to one.
Twinkling, a vagary star, the ghost catches Mio's golden eye.
Hey, I happen to know that Flora is and always has been the cat's meow!
"Addam, I'm dying."
There's a long silence.
"Well. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
#divorce
There's a long silence.
"Well. That's a good thing, isn't it?"
#divorce
Age not just before beauty, but with, and leading, and travelling on.
Minoth's always very put-together, isn't he? Most all of them are, anyway. But, inevitably, we all get a little out of sorts sometimes.
Access to polymorphism - is-a, has-a - is a wonderful thing.
The world is beautiful, due to the people living in it. (playlist here)
Prescribed: Flora pining-ish + Addam oblivious + Minoth with way too many morals/reservations. We attempt...
It's a lovely day for a lark.
Brighid ponders.
A series of scenes surrounding a day that surprised no one, and got all the ceremony it deserved in due course.
"Computers are incredibly fast, but incredibly stupid. We are incredibly clever, but incredibly slow."
Mythra and Minoth talk about pronouns, and what it means to be called after by another.
Mythra and Minoth talk about pronouns, and what it means to be called after by another.
(Some things aren't topical enough for Tumblr.)
The whole of life is futile unless you consider it as a sporting proposition.SO HE WAS BROUGHT INTO THE WORLD TO PROTECT AND SERVE A MAN WHO HAD BEEN ORPHANED AS A CHILD AND IN MATURITY CHOSE TO EXERT POWER OVER OTHERS INSTEAD OF HELPING THEM AND THEN WHEN HE LEAVES THAT MAN THE ONE WHO ACCEPTS HIM IS ONE WHO REFUSES TO EXERT POWER OVER PEOPLE HE CAN HELP
Persistence runs, cold and hot. (playlist here)
In Indol, there are a great many paintings depicting all manner of hells.
Help me, Bones had said in the Klingon sickbay, help me, and he hadn't meant help me help you, let me help, but damn it, he's a doctor, isn't he? So of course that's what he'd meant. We'd all like to believe.
Small but mighty, etc....
Oh, now aren't you just the sweetest thing?
Mythra is nothing if not a troubled youth. By comparison, Minoth looks like a sainted...not-uncle. Something else. Fiddlier.
To be a walking contradiction; to be sweet anger and gentle rage...
It was frightful, all that tranquility.
It means nothing, to stand here.
Doesn't it?
Doesn't it?
*Here, a note: imagine that the continent of Coeia harbored such natural, mossy stone as would offer a basal creeping place for the vines of such fruit.
Lora had a way of making anyone agree to anything, really.
And then, the most terrifying thing of all: the great white beast smiled at him.
As a generally artistic young person, I started thinking about how the symbols we array over ourselves to evoke the intrinsic romance of death could be...realized.
(floraminoade have some explaining to do)
Human rituals were such an odd dance.
Yelv's gotta pick his battles - and L has to learn to, too.
The pot simmers, trying to boil righteousness, before it explodes.
It's a good morning in Aletta Manor. It always has been.
Please, by all means, go right on quoting (indeed, not quite citing) regulations - even the most overdone clichés.
But did you know that when it snows...
She is like nothing else they have known.
She is like nothing else they have known.
It's raining again in Mor Ardain, when he sees her.
Some things are just meant to be, even if they don't look so black and white.
Mythra has some questions about the...arrangements being made around her.
Ah, to float like a butterfly and sting like a bee...
You can look, but you can't touch.
A light, simple tune.
And what is it? Love, I suppose. Of course it is!
What do you even call something like that?
Amalthus is, quite simply, not Minoth's favorite person.
It is curious how often you humans manage to obtain that which you do not want.
Let me tell you a story...
I didn't tag this character study...but it's basically character study. You'll see.
like this
:3 <:
:3<:
:3 <:
:3<:
Malos has nothing. Nothing at all.
...just another stop along the way...
As Origin's final pendulum swings...
As Origin's final pendulum swings...
The stream of consciousness runs dry, without free-flowing (conscious) thought.
Jim has a question.
Minoth has a revelation about triangulation.
What else is a good friend/prince/husband for if not safety and comfort?
The not-so-up-and-coming Tornan prince has some new, and quite pressing, duties and responsibilities to attend to.
Minoth is not as Flora left him, though she's not sure she minds.
The Origo adjacents conduct an experiment in context.
no notes. :3c
try, try, as hard as you can
try, try, again and again
try, try, again and again
Something almost like a smile crosses the Vulcan's face. Certainly, it's throwing victory.
"You were worried."
"You were worried."
It was a dark and stormy night.
Addam and Minoth simply love every part of her. There's no question about it.
#xenogearsocsweep
thank u Zest for Gala thank u Rue for moral support
thank u Zest for Gala thank u Rue for moral support
Safety first!
Do you like cats?
...and other assorted ambitions.
What it says on the tin! Variety and restraint are for the birds.
"He touches Jim just as casually as Jim does the universe."
Which is to say...
Which is to say...
The definition includes friend, brother, and lover. All three at once. Constantly.
Jim is a creature of habit. So is Spock.
Gay Gillian fic. We didn't need another one but it's here anyway. Sorry and thank you.
What if she was right? What if he was lost?
Spock sees the blood. He cannot but see it. Yet, he questions why it should bleed, and bleed, and bleed.
It is there, to make a radical statement; and his cavernous humanity elides.
It is there, to make a radical statement; and his cavernous humanity elides.
Do you like cats?
Love is such a colossal, tremendous responsibility.
It started sometime between when Spock went to and returned from Gol. It only grew from there.
It started sometime between when Spock went to and returned from Gol. It only grew from there.
Once one dismisses the rest of all possible worlds, one finds that this is the best of all possible worlds!
Assume the bases of Xenoblade Chronicles. Assume also the writings of the philosopher Voltaire. Now, prove a contradiction.
Assume the bases of Xenoblade Chronicles. Assume also the writings of the philosopher Voltaire. Now, prove a contradiction.
Aionios is, in some respects, a world built entirely on preconceived notions.
"You're awfully content."
"You made me so."
"You made me so."
Insufficient facts always invite danger. Or, one learns best by doing.
A very interesting thing to learn - and no one he'd rather learn it with.
It was the first time, but it felt like the last time too - rather, like the continuum of all time and times condensed into one singular, supermassively expansive point.
Haze coughed, loudly.
"I'm confused."
She'd have to be. If she caught on, Minoth'd be in a hell of a bind.
"I'm confused."
She'd have to be. If she caught on, Minoth'd be in a hell of a bind.
Everything was going well. The performance was agreeable to all.
washed up on the sea shore
Classical, inmitable victory.
You've always been going. It should be funny, but it ain't.
The marsh doesn't have any concept of before and after. There isn't anything so discrete as all that.
If life itself truly is such a scarce substance, and one which can induce alternately such euphoria and such dysphoria...
The problem was...that there weren't any problems. And that, in the end, was the best thing of all. They made it so, anyway.
Having dispensed with the requisite violence of the day, Flora and Elma take a walk.
Not this way. Not this time.
It's a razor-thin decision, and she's bleeding out.
If I say something stupid it is always Alana's fault. Exclusively. And I am giving her big kiss.
There was a tremendous vulnerability in accepting strength and resolution.
Isn't that how the saying goes...verbing someone's tits off?
No ether lines, no ears, no wings! Just two honest hands, and then another two more.
Not such a monumental nuance, between the two.
Embellishment, et al.
Just a little moment, no surprises here.
Mythra comes together. (playlist here)
You have inspired me so.
And though I know you couldn't care, you oughta...
He is a puzzle to be studied, and a bundle of knots to be taken apart and cut back together.
In my humble estimation.
In my humble estimation.
I think you're one too.
Hey, hey, everybody's got their habits! If making camp in the colony's all you've got, you've gotta make it your own, haven't you?
"Just out smelling the roses, Prince."
"And what color were they?"
"And what color were they?"
I can't think of a particularly respectable way to set this. Just trust me.
There's nothing quite like being the First.
(drabble series, and a slightly more bona fide reason for the word count)
(femslash, because i can)
Stand up and fight!
But...why?
But...why?
There is much to be said for intraplanetary and interpersonal persuasions.
Rex and Mythra talk about their predilections. It's been a long time coming.
"It weighs as it should."
Why must Addam always be so oblivious?
Something worthwhile will come eventually. Eventually. This is just a meantime compromise, because I can.
They're floating.
Good god, we're really out here.
(he/they Kirk - they/he Spock)
Good god, we're really out here.
(he/they Kirk - they/he Spock)
Addam's mind is empty. And thus opens his heart.
If it's difficult to focus on the kindest truth, then might I suggest looking at each other? (he/she Kirk - they/them Spock)
That house...oh, that house.
It takes time to come to terms with his emotions. Of course, in multiple ways.
(shalvis, bit by bit)
Lora blinks rapidly. Stutters.
Generally, she's entirely out of her depth, only she isn't at all concerned with swimming.
Generally, she's entirely out of her depth, only she isn't at all concerned with swimming.
Egil fights until he can't anymore, but the thing that dies isn't his spirit.
Mr. Spock has a quandary. There's not much more to it than that.
And as it was in origination, so will it be in referential continuum. In other words...here we go again.
(collection of ship drabbles based on requests with emoji prompts)
A double date, orchestrated through varyingly nefarious means, is all well and good, but at the end of every meal out comes a critical question...
(anniversary gift for my dear friends)
(anniversary gift for my dear friends)
Sometimes you just need the important questions answered.
(I had a prompt list in image form, and I don't remember where it came from. Enjoy the result of the transcription.)
(I had a prompt list in image form, and I don't remember where it came from. Enjoy the result of the transcription.)
Of all the things Addam ever thought he'd find to complain about when it came to Minoth, his broad shoulders were never one.
As they say, that's affinity for ya!
No, go on, name him. He's something of a favorite, after all.
([primarily spirk] tag scenes for my TOS rewatch, by episode even though they aren't tagged individually)
It's real. I saw it.
"What did you just call me, Captain?"
What do you do when being illogical is sometimes...endearing?
What do you do when being illogical is sometimes...endearing?
Perhaps the captain's general lack of fine digital motor flexibility isn't so great of an issue after all.
Not a will-they or won't-they, per se, but a gentle perspective on what it should mean, and then what it does thereafter. I hope you'll find the title appropriately mounted in irony and inside jokes.
...is what the summary was going to be, and then I found that this title no longer fit my fully genuine interpretation. It fits here; three cheers for silly spirk, or something like that.
...is what the summary was going to be, and then I found that this title no longer fit my fully genuine interpretation. It fits here; three cheers for silly spirk, or something like that.
What is? What is...?
"I feel as if any encounter that takes us apart from one another must be awfully contrived."
"And this one is...?"
"Giddyup, Mythra. Embrace it."
"And this one is...?"
"Giddyup, Mythra. Embrace it."
A collection of "m"slash drabbles, based on Maurice Ravel's Gaspard Suite.
A loose sequence of spirk drabbles, inspired by the eponymous suite, as is my way.
A collection of femslash drabbles, based on Maurice Ravel's Miroirs Suite.
i want the secrets your secrets haven't found
Cheering. I can't stand it.
Or, hatred, strife, and lies in a heterogeneous form - nahhh...couldn't be!
Always, it comes. Not inevitable, no, but uninhibitable.
(don't think too hard about it)
(relationships that are inflected with a certain sort of unbalance and imperative)
This one perhaps needs a little context, but you can't have too much!
sleep...won't you allow yourself fall?
There's minoade everywhere you look.
Nia felt it all too close to what she herself had experienced. Only problem was, Fan was different.
It's mesmerizing. I'm not even being cryptic.
Id growls. "Why should I assume that you're any different?"
Bart grins. "Because I am."
Bart grins. "Because I am."
She'll come around eventually. Right?
Nah, I'm only kidding. You can have anything you like.
As tagged.
It was unlike any place she'd ever seen on Alrest.
Some things, however, were the same.
Some things, however, were the same.
You know the drill. Has life again destroyed life?
Together we stand, divided we fall...
As tagged.
Would you care to dance?
No, not even.
Won't you dance with me?
No, not even.
Won't you dance with me?
And with a raucous shudder, and with a furious ease.
Leave your method signature at the door.
It was uncomfortable. It didn't make sense. It was the routine.
Angel, fallen. Demon, risen.
Stand with direction...the world.
Stand with direction...the world.
don't surround yourself with yourself
I don't really understand how
git blame works, do you?Sometimes, they can be straight.
Oh, Lora is absolutely fascinating.
Well...this is awkward.
please, please, please, open your eyes
"If I'm not your Driver..." Addam starts, clearly leading up to a grand conclusion.
"If you're not my Driver," Minoth repeats, biting the words and then chewing them up into a paste.
"If you're not my Driver," Minoth repeats, biting the words and then chewing them up into a paste.
do you really want to live forever?
where are you?
If you ask the same questions enough...well, no, you'll always get the same answers, in the end.
(not-so-coyly subtitled "Flora little kitty very kind is waiting for you" :3)
Addam doesn't think about what Minoth is. Addam thinks about what Minoth does.
Mythra has nothing. Nothing at all.
Mythra seeks out Minoth instead of Addam, that night. (As ever, perhaps.)
You know, just in case you never learned.
(maybe not so mild as originally intended)
Are you ready? It's a quick one!
It's taste!
Even the biggest of stories starts in the smallest of ways. Even the smallest of stories starts in the biggest of hearts.
There they go...
Hello, partner.
Free to flutter in memories of their wasted wings...
"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined."
- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
- Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous
As the saying goes...
Dromarch's angry.
Very often, I provide an artistic reference. Less often, it is simply a pictoral one. And allow me to paint...
The feeling is exquisitely simple and extraordinarily clear.
Egil and Jin play a simple game. A classic game.
And the stupid face, the glasses, and the gun!
It's clear enough what this is about, isn't it?
It's clear enough what this is about, isn't it?
They're lost, and they're not even at sea.
(random word generator saved me from several fruitless attempts at a prompt/topic/theme/throughline: radii)
The two nations of Aionios are nothing if not opposite.
The space between where the angels fly, they say, is the path upon which God advents.
Sitting in the Machina Village, among all its newly diversified inhabitants, Fiora's gears start to whirr.
I just want to hold onto this moment forever.
(collection of ship drabbles based on requests with emoji prompts)
What does it mean? To be a family?
I happen to think that there's, oh, everything in it.
How's this move for perfection?
Well, I won't tell. That would be cheating.
Someone says he's Jesus Christ - but I don't care.
It's always so nice to see you.
Was I wrong? I know why...
The reviews on floraminoade are as follows: "very sweet. hugs and kisses." But the foundation is slightly more richly inflected than that, I find.
"Just because I am a princess does not mean that I am necessarily light on my feet, Fiora."
"And just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm a wimp! Come on, let me carry you, it'll be fun!"
"And just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I'm a wimp! Come on, let me carry you, it'll be fun!"
Do you know what you have done?
I'm one of many, I speak for the rest, but I don't understand...
Minoth spends some time rattling around the ideology of the incipient Org Torna.
Minoth spends some time rattling around the ideology of the incipient Org Torna.
"He said it was hell, living here."
"What, in Torna?"
"What, in Torna?"
"Keep remembering...things."
"Minoth?"
"Don't know what. Just things."
"Minoth?"
"Don't know what. Just things."
Jin gathers himself after the calamity.
Ooh, I'm just a busy bee, still alive in my hive...
Sometimes hurt people hurt people, and sometimes they heal other hurt people instead.
Even with her eyes nigh-permanently lidded, Brighid is...surprisingly observant.
Once there was a way to get back homeward...
Sometimes I have to do what I have to do.
Three very particular Blades were bastardized, even if quite unknowingly, by one wayward Quaestor. These are their stories.
NO COMPUTER STANDS IN MY WAY !
It's still Jin. It's always Jin.
It's still Jin. It's always Jin.
Life on Alrest inspires a lot of opportunity for some terribly powerful choices and chances alike.
Constrained to structured, sophisticated, over-socialized haunts, one cannot hope to comprehend all of what really makes up a life.
Come on, Lora. COME ON.
Akhos is a player who likes to get what he wants. And, if that doesn't work out...well, he'll always stay to watch the fireworks just the same.
It's not necessary to make a big deal out of birthdays, no - but it's certainly a nice bonus!
The parallels are too easy, too potent.
What once was lost...still may never be found again.
That's not Fiora. Not anymore.
Okay, so you've got a room together. That's only half of the equation.
To switch it up: sleepy Minoth, instead of sleepy Addam.
You create your own loneliness...or lack thereof.
Back at it again with the universal truths - this time at McDonald's.
YDDHYUIS, boiled down.
No one knows what it's like.
Haze can't catch the fleeting moments; they run by altogether too fast.
Sadly now your thoughts turn to the stars! Where we have gone, you know you never can go.
Pongo is lost. He has all but forgotten how to make an alien place a home.
It's a little something about saying hello to the monster living under the bed, and a little something about relentlessly re-pasting the glow-up stars to your ceiling.
Krelian finds solace in a certain supercomponent of the soul.
you broke your promise.
Sometimes life is something you just have to get on with. Sometimes it's not so easy.
It's impossible to miss an entire firmament ([de]con)structed in your mind.
How many times can I say I'm sorry?
From time, the great healer, the machine messiah is born.
Malos brings absolution to the world. Of course he does. It is his destiny.
Malos brings absolution to the world. Of course he does. It is his destiny.
Ensconced in the endless, mystifying fabric of spacetime, Alvis comes alive.
The weather is clearing, the wind combs the young willows' hair.
.The ice is melted, the waves wash the old moss's beard
Let it go on. Let it go out.
You know what? Death to Nopon.
A collection of "mslash" drabbles, based on Gustav Holst's The Planets.
With Lora gone, Haze falls to pieces.
Show me the pattern, one more time.
Yes, that's all it is.
Do you see me? Or do you just see...all the stars in the sky?
There's quite a many different ways to go, now.
Atrocity. Abomination. Profanement, desecration and consecration in the anti-sacred grove.
A collection of femslash drabbles, based on Maurice Ravel's Mother Goose Suite.
Leaders from Keves and Agnus meet. Pleasantries are exchanged. And, not only those.
To Jin, the world. For Jin. For Malos.
Imagine that TTGC is M-rated and the post-battle convos are just blatantly homoerotic. Yeah. Sorry.
centaur (n) - a mythical creature, half human and half horse, from the Greek kentauros (also ken-tauros, or "piercing bull")
In which Minoth is not such a summarily humanoid Blade.
In which Minoth is not such a summarily humanoid Blade.
Fine for you, all that time you've got.
Change is something they all wish for. Or at least, maybe they once did.
And, as they say, sugar for my honey, but the description will do quite nicely either way.
They've been away [from each other] for far too long.
Even after centuries, Melia's hope is still a false one.
In the capsule, the everlasting tomb, before goodbye, there is hello.
...have to find the passage back to the place I was before...
Addam's too easy. It's quite a change for Minoth.
Minoth, now Cole, thinks about things.
Mythra and Minoth, alone as ever, talk about what it means to be alive.
It's a simple thing, and it's a sweet thing, and it's something they've learned to call home.
In the lonely gazebo, high above Ignas, they speak of simple things.
Isn't it so good to be optimistic for the future?
"So."
"So."
"So I've never kissed anyone before."
"So."
"So I've never kissed anyone before."
Fei reflects...again.
There are many ways for a new journey to begin. It took some doing, but this is mine. No comment on whether it should be ours.
No, really, tell me why.
I'll keep a place for you, somewhere deep inside...
Maybe I'm a lonely man who's in the middle of something that he doesn't really understand.
Addam sneaks back home, just for a bit, and tries to make sense of it all.
Addam sneaks back home, just for a bit, and tries to make sense of it all.
So much of their quest concerns proximity. It is a wonderful thing, to be close to the truth.
Not everyone is happy with the aftermath of the war.
There's something special about Mythra, here and now, that catches Jin's attention.
I come to you, defenses down. I trust you; you are not a child.
Or, it's the one where Hugo doesn't die - for real this time.
Or, it's the one where Hugo doesn't die - for real this time.
Alvis keeps a big log, out in memory space.
In a word, Mira is hostile.
When Lora turns twenty-one, the obvious next acquisition is alcohol. Isn't it?
They say that time is a healer, and now my wounds are not the same. I rang the bell with my heart in my mouth; I had to hear what he'd say.
It was easy. Too easy. And thank the Architect for it.
So you think I'm a tough kid? Is that what you heard? Yeah, well, I like to see some action, and it gets into my blood...
Aletta is all commotion, when they return. The queen, then, just stands back and watches.
Flora is alone. Perhaps it would be in the best interest of all to try to change that.
Just trust me. Or don't. That's...kinda the point.
Try as he might, Addam cannot make sense of the pieces he has been left with, in heart and in home, after the Aegis War.
Newness can be a lonely, alienating thing. Or, it can show you quite simply and warmly, so naturally, all you'd been missing.
The group has many ways of offering each member their individual affection. Shall we call it love languages? No, I don't think so, but there is after all something to it. And in fabulous processional order...
Broken people are all too eager to diagnose others as kindred. It's misery loves company, yes, and then something...a little more.
It's so nice to agree.
Just for a moment, let your heart fly...
Walking in the country doesn't afford one many mirrors. Mythra struggles with their self-image all the same.
There's a grief that can't be spoken...
Addam didn't want to be a hero. He only wanted, well...
Sometimes guilt is complicated, and sometimes it's very, very simple.
We used to be so happy. That's all it was.
Marcher. Voler. Rêver.
Hair-bleaching technology? Now THAT is the future.
Everything changes. Everything stays the same.
It is dark. It is not cold.
The grief of a man who has failed hardly deserves our sympathy. But doesn't Addam?
telling me the danger's past, i need not fear the icy blast again
Someone else, handily enough, finds Haze before the big man does. It's not much, but there is a story to it...
There is no other way.
And to get what you wish, only just for a moment...
Lora and Haze and Addam and Minoth all take a daytrip into the woods.
Lora and Haze and Addam and Minoth all take a daytrip into the woods.
Round 1, insta-K.O.
Org Torna has some...business to take care of, at just about the last place you'd expect.
Org Torna has some...business to take care of, at just about the last place you'd expect.
A collection of femslash drabbles, based on this post.
"How do you deal with it?"
There's a lot of conversations a question like that could open, but this one isn't half so heavy as most.
UPDATE: Aurora did another illustration for this piece!!!
There's a lot of conversations a question like that could open, but this one isn't half so heavy as most.
UPDATE: Aurora did another illustration for this piece!!!
It's not life. It's not death. It's just the way it goes.
She's a little explosion of hope...never turns the lights down low, she can go there if you want to though.
Pyra isn't just warm. No, not just.
Pyra isn't just warm. No, not just.
Humans are swift. Humans are strong. Humans are ceaseless.
Suddenly, Fiora is none of those things.
Suddenly, Fiora is none of those things.
I'm a simple creature. I see a post detailing possible avenues/flavors in which to write minoade, I go.
You can't fit the span of all emotive possibility into just ten minutes. But you can try - if you have a theme, that is.
When the lonely, aging world is your only companion, you've got to look inward, haven't you?
On a clear day, you can see forever. Right?
Minoth and Addam have conflicting ideas of what is sustainable for the future.
...you can tell me by the way I walk!
A centuries-long learning experience, the Blade that was Minoth will be. The first lesson is today.
All things must come...to an end. Always.
I can't forget you...
They stand at the railing, overlooking the sea that is no longer definitively endless but is so definitely boundless, and a reflective silence falls.
They stand at the railing, overlooking the sea that is no longer definitively endless but is so definitely boundless, and a reflective silence falls.
Like a snake, Amalthus speaks in silvered tongues, but it is only a very few, at the root of it, who are truly fooled. The rest of us...we all know.
The answer, bluntly enough: absolutely nothing. Or absolutely everything. Take your pick.
"Grandpa, are you really going to write a play about Mister Vandham?"
Was it even a question?
Was it even a question?
For a writer, one who thinks of, nay realizes, quite a many words, having everything you pen upon yourself reflect into and onto another is quite vulnerable, is it not?
Shhh, it's starting!
To think of the immortal chance by which I found you...truly, could I ever?
But I am lost within this half-world...it hardly seems to matter now.
Jin stumbles away from his past, but not quite toward his future.
Jin stumbles away from his past, but not quite toward his future.
Identity and memory are...quite the thing. All Blades know that.
Not obsolete just yet, are you? Rather, your story's only just begun.
Really, if not the whole thing.
Careful what you wish for - or what you don't, rather.
All that I am is fading. Has faded. And, so, what was I?
There's a lot of things you learn, traveling the world for a year. And, then, there are a lot of things you don't.
Even as a child, Lora had had her charms, her winning ways with people. Of course she had.
Reyn is just like Gadolt.
No he's not.
No he's not.
"Tell me, Addam," Hugo mused. "Have you ever seen a goose in Torna?"
Broken if an old PC is less than teaching will be till they just a parameter, we probably we should live over function like just that building just define as your people off along.
There's no icebox, there's no bench scraper, there's no bench to be scraped. Just logs cleaned as best as they can be with ice, with rope, with nature battled against nature.
Let there be righteous glory in the name of our fathers,
To find the justice we all seek.
We stand arm in arm, as equals under the Titan's gaze,
Awaiting the peace that shall prevail.
For in that, there is honor.
-- Old Tornan Proverb: The Pillars
To find the justice we all seek.
We stand arm in arm, as equals under the Titan's gaze,
Awaiting the peace that shall prevail.
For in that, there is honor.
-- Old Tornan Proverb: The Pillars
Malos reviews his motivations and renews his convictions.
They got a name for the winners in the world...I want a name when I lose.
Trust me, won't you? It'll all turn out right eventually.
You wouldn't think that I care about Pyra. But I do.
Even the most driven of us need our coping mechanisms, sometimes.
"Hey, Cole, can I ask you something?"
Like Addam, are you? And so that's what it's about.
Like Addam, are you? And so that's what it's about.
You know, that bodacious cowboy? Standing in the corner? The one with the spangled studs that match your eyes?
"Shulk."
"What is it, Alvis?"
"Do you ever...vibrate?"
"What is it, Alvis?"
"Do you ever...vibrate?"
Is that all you need? To be harmless?
Is that all you want? To be untamed?
Is that all you want? To be untamed?
It can only process so many processes and um...you have too many.
"You're a human," the dragon groans.
"Is that a bad thing?" the prince asks, brightly.
"I'm not sure. It's never been a good thing before."
"Come now," says the prince, still shining. "Surely there must be something you like about us."
"Is that a bad thing?" the prince asks, brightly.
"I'm not sure. It's never been a good thing before."
"Come now," says the prince, still shining. "Surely there must be something you like about us."
A series of character pieces, based on a series of character pieces.
Go gentle, when there is a good night. Feel soft at the corners, if you must. No one else will see you that way, anymore.
It takes a while, for Shulk to wake up.
Pfft. Okay. Aren't we all?
History among the Titans tells us quite a many tales. Here's one you might have forgotten.
Minoth, and associates, meets Lora, and associates, in the shampoo aisle. Staring ensues.
Baskets at the ready, everyone?
Better than cutting out a heart, right? Right?
The obvious composer buries his motives.
In other words, the moral quandary of the damsel on the railroad tracks should be quite simple. Shouldn't it?
"Prince, don't you...don't you ever get scared that we won't be able to do it?"
'Cause you were wrong and now, the best is yet to come.
and i look at all the sights we've seen and i say to myself, there's something in my eye - i think it's you
Jin and Malos tour the world.
Jin deals in life. Then again, Jin also deals in death.
It's dark, in the Praetorium. The moonlight glints emptily on the tiles.
Love, I don't like to see so much pain...
Blocked. Blocked. Blocked. You are all blocked. None of you are free from sin.
What does a child Lora's age need to learn? And what could Jin possibly even teach her?
In a word, their group is very alive.
Whatever way our stories end, I know you have rewritten mine by being my friend.
Well, let's just say some very interesting things might happen.
Everyone likes a consonant cadence. ...right?
Boys will be boys. Blades will be Blades. Aegises will be Aegises. Until they aren't.
In all ways except physical, I am the trumpets in memento of all organisms.
What does that even mean?
What does that even mean?
Do not stand at my grave and weep;
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there.
I did not die.
"It's been a few years, since the war."
Keep writing. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Sure it has. You feeling okay?"
Keep writing. Nothing out of the ordinary. "Sure it has. You feeling okay?"
Minoth's tone just wouldn't stop jabbing. "Pretty odd thing, for a Blade, to wake up and find everybody looking at him like he's not the one they wanted."
Be rootin', be tootin', and by god...always treat a lady right.
Addam and Minoth never talk. They only talk over each other, around each other, through each other. But where are you, when I need you? I can't say I'm lost if you think me so found.
For Lora, whenever I may find her.
Yeah, right. As if.
Mythra hates Brighid so much. So, so much.
Doesn't she?
Doesn't she?
It was hard, at first, for Mythra to find a real confidante. And then Minoth showed up.
A new side of oneself...you think some interesting thoughts, Minoth.
Oh, Jin, Jin, Jin. Why are you the way that you are?
Oh, Jin, Jin, Jin. Why are you the way that you are?
And in the beating of your heart there is another beating heart.
For whom did Jin's heart beat? To what course, to what rhythm, to what end?
For whom did Jin's heart beat? To what course, to what rhythm, to what end?
There in the midst of it, so alive and alone, words support like bone. Like...bone.
Lora was a picky eater. Somehow, with all her charms and quirks and endearing facets of an adorably facile, nascent personality, Lora had come out of a dirty, unloving home and decided that she was going to be a picky eater.
I greet them with the widest smile, tell them how my life is one big adventure...
"Y'know, if the Architect really does exist...I'd quite like to meet him."
To keep in silence I resigned - my friends would think I was a nut.
"I imagined you were somewhat...troubled by my existence."
Tell me, would you...who's got the placebo? Where's my control group? Were we really...prepared for this?
Am I allowed to look at her like that?
She means everything to me.
She means everything to me.
Yellow eagle flies out from the sun. Are you watching? Are you waiting? Are you ready?
They called me the reverend when I entered the church unstained...
My employers have changed, but the name has remained...
My employers have changed, but the name has remained...
What distinguishes intelligence artificial from that real?
Just a silly little thing - but aren't those the most important, in the end?
I suppose it's rather too late for that now, though.
or, of math and men
When destiny calls you, you must be strong...
It's all a metaphor, isn't it? It's all the same.
The Aegis, high and mighty and perfect, snorts. A solar flare bursts out from the sun.
Or don't you know, even?
Minoth liked Uraya a hell of a lot more than he had Indol. Until Addam Origo showed up, that is.
Keep calm, bright star. Alignment isn't easy. Homing...homing...you're home.
Why is it that you only get caught in pitches unsavory when you're doing something you actually care about? Why is it that you hold things the tightest when you're about to throw them away?
Blades get the name of their true Driver imprinted somewhere in the back of their Core. That's not something Amalthus found out; everyone knows it.
This apartment wasn't so much Oscar's territory anymore. Was that the trade, one half of an apartment in exchange for one half of your progeny?
Will the world remember you, when you fall?
Won't you tell me how you feel?
"So you're with him, now?" He addressed it to Jin, but he could just as easily have been talking to Malos.
You know, because there're other things a Driver and Blade can do besides fight, even if it's together.
The moon looms maroon, on Thursdays.
[Whumptober collection, with a little extra treat in the last chapter.]
[Whumptober collection, with a little extra treat in the last chapter.]
Let me tell you what I wish I'd known, when I was young and dreamed of glory...
You know what they say. Our problems do seem to be piling up...
"Syrenne, did you know that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met? Have I ever told you that?"
Just what the title says. Are your eyes not working, or something?
"How are you, Shulk?"
How am I. How am I?
How am I. How am I?
There were better things to do with hands than let them make you fester in your own fidgeting. Addam knew that firsthand.
The worst conglomeration of tags you ever did or didn't want to see, and all the same concepts we've always been peddling. This won't be absolutely anyone's cup of tea, indeed it may even be slightly problematic, and I apologize in advance.
"Did you want something?" Flora asks, and though she's playful and consenting to the moment she does sound a little nervous. Minoth nods, simplicity in motion, and gestures quietly. "You, if that's alright."
Does earth plug a hole in heaven, or heaven plug a hole in earth? How wonderful to be so profound, when everything you are is dying underground.
My distortion shows obsession...
Stay with me, I need support.
He burned the dinner. Of course he did. Except how do you burn a frozen dinner? Ralph Malph would find a way.
If you've stuck around for this long, you must be wondering: could it have gone any better? Could they have been any happier? And the answer is, of course, yes.
Of course, of course, you can tell a lot about a person not just by what they write, but by the way they write it. Literally. Or physically, I should say.
Lost not to history but to time, the memories will not resurface, not ever, but we can have a look anyway.
And what were they even fighting about, anyway?
The bitter harvest of a dying bloom...
Take some time to dwell on dreams. It's only human, you know.
Said one author to the masses, "I come up with new crack ships and convince other people to enjoy them." Said another author to the first, "You're not thinking crazy enough."
Everybody nosedive, hold your breath, count to five. Back slap, booby trap, cover it up in bubble wrap...or something like that.
Inexorable, and yet it's gone.
He's not what she thought he was. And yet, he's exactly what she thought he was.
Have I come to too soon for you?
Two wrongs don't make a right. Two darks don't make a light.
The icicle is tipped; the circle flattens and comes unbound.
Across the street under the not-at-all-inconspicuous cover of an awning, Mythra's eyes near about rolled out of her head. "I can't watch this. I just can't do it."
Fox the fox, rat on the rat. You can ape the ape, I know about that.
It was quick to prepare the protein and set the base to boil, but then the actual dumpling-making took a little while. She had time, here this afternoon.
In more desperate moments, one might quip softly that we very nearly always end as we began. But if we began alone...well, let's just not do that, hmm?
You probably think this song is about you, don't you?
Someone's falling, someone's failing. Someone just wants to know what the f--k we're having for dinner.
"Why do you call me 'Master', Haze?" Architect, he hated even speaking the word in such a context.
There are only so many union-mandated breaks you can slough off with someone before you realize you'd gladly play another six hours straight for another five minutes with them.
Still waters run deep, and all that.
They all share hugs, before the final battle. And, well...that was probably a good idea.
Flames azure and feathers molting, she emerges glorious and unattainable...the Firebird.
Minoth is nice. Like, really, really nice. And he's great friends with Addam, and they never explain why, and Mythra finds herself feeling heartened, instead of getting jealous.
"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.'"
So deep, so wide. Will you take me on your back for a ride?
All things must come...to an end.
~ ongoing one-shot collection for anything sweet those fabulous four (now five) might get up to ~
Sometimes you're just left waiting a long, long time for someone to really, truly call you their own. [posted 2021-06-25 through 2021-08-06]
What is it, to fight? What is it, to work together?
Blades were merely the tools. Merely the tools. Blades didn't need saving, right? Blades didn't need saving because their plight was already assured. Blades unborn, Blades never babies like that precious child he was too late to save. How could they be saved from the very nature of their existence? ...Ah. And how could humans from theirs?
In French, they say "Tu me manques": you are missing from me. It is, indeed, quite a beautiful sentiment - though need the missing always be that of incompletion?
[Xenoship Week 2021 - Day 5: Letters/Journal]
[Xenoship Week 2021 - Day 5: Letters/Journal]
"You fascinate me." Minoth barked a laugh. "I know." So saying, he turned back to the chest and resumed rummaging through it.
[Xenoship Week 2021 - Day 3: Rings/Treasure]
[Xenoship Week 2021 - Day 3: Rings/Treasure]
"Come on, show me those beetles of yours." Between that and the very unfortunate innuendic cadence of "I've got weevils in my wife's strawberry bushes," Addam could feel himself getting very, very red.
(noun) the final part of a play, movie, or other narrative in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved
They can hardly hope for you to take responsibility if they've not acknowledged your own identity, now can they?