softtoys | Member Posts

His Eternal Partner (200 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: X-Men Movieverse
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Characters: Erik Lensherr | Magneto, Charles Xavier | Professor X
Additional Tags: Double Drabble, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

When Erik feels Charles fading, he goes

His Eternal Partner

The soft whisper in his mind was getting harder to hear.

That fact alone drew Erik out of his dreaming state, and up, into action.

For too many years, there had been strife between he and his truest partner.

It was time to end that.

The hold out of mutants in the ruins of the Mansion had not expected any relief. They had been in communication blackout when the attack began, had already lost some of their number.

To have every single weapon, tank, and aircraft suddenly pulled into a single pile of twisted metal was stunning, even sickening to the embattled students and teachers on some level, but ultimately, they wanted to live.

If that meant accepting Magneto as their savior, it was what it would be.

"You came."

"You were fading from me."

No one intruded. The ones who had been there longest understood this was for their mentors alone.

"You were, as ever, ruthless and hasty in your response."

"You, as always, my old friend, are a sanctimonious shill."

Slow smiles were shared, before Erik pressed his forehead to his beloved's.

"Never leave me again, Charles."

"I cannot promise, but perhaps we can find a middle path."

linky

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paperghost

I need to make a more introspective and serious article-like writing about this one day when my brain isn't broken. ... That being said, Katherine Dee's latest blog post had me thinking.

Snippet from article about the anti-woke sphere

THE ALT-MEDIA ECOSYSTEM

Here’s a story most of you already know. COVID was a great time to try your hand at Internet celebrity. Institutional trust—CNN, Fox, the New York Times, Fauci, the WHO—collapsed for millions of people who suddenly needed new ways to make sense of the world.

And what filled that vacuum? The so-called “right-wing” alt media. What nobody wants to say about these creators, except for maybe the creators themselves, is that they—and indeed, the whole ecosystem they belong to—are not strictly right-wing. They are “not-left” but they aren’t on the right.

Being “not-left” during COVID was simple. All you had to do was disagree with lockdowns and mandates. That low bar brought in a huge tent of people. The tent, of course, had already been built by the excesses of wokeness, #MeToo, etc. COVID filled it out.
These creators shared one message: “The mainstream media is lying to you. We’re telling the truth.” In many cases, they were right. This “not-left” group was absorbed into the Online Right, a sprawling ecosystem that includes everyone from the Dissident Right to anti-woke crypto hucksters to Nick Fuentes’ groypers to Intellectual Dark Web figures to mainstream conservative podcasters to dozens of smaller micro-subcultures and ideologies.

I’m skeptical that the left doesn’t have the same media power—last time I checked, there are more liberal podcasts, magazines, TV shows, etc. than any one person could count. But it could be that they just don’t have the same political influence. Whatever the case, the specter of the Online Right and Alt-Media Ecosystem emerged, full-force, during the podcast election.

MAGA CHANGES EVERYTHING
Trump’s 2024 win exposed the fault lines in what everyone assumed was a unified “right-wing” movement. For some people, being anti-establishment got complicated when your side controlled the establishment. A lot of people who’d been lumped in with the right realized (or had always known) they didn’t like Trump or his politics—it was just that there was nowhere to go. Some people simply changed their mind.
Whatever the reasons, this fracturing created a massive opportunity. All these people with huge, engaged audiences who’d been accidentally sorted into the “right-wing” category were suddenly politically homeless again. They didn’t want to be MAGA cheerleaders, but they also couldn’t go back to a left that had already expelled them for “thought crimes.”

THE GREAT REALIGNMENT Now we’re seeing different types of these creators and audiences sorting themselves out:

The Post-Right: People who burnt out on the online right-wing ecosystem entirely. Think Richard Hanania, Nick Fuentes1, or even Richard Spencer. They’re not leftists, they’re not people who were mislabeled during COVID, #MeToo, or “peak woke,” but they do reject the current-state of the Right. Sometimes they’re Democrats who took “the scenic route.” Sometimes these people are opportunists. Sometimes they’ve evolved.
The Post-Anti-Woke: Contrarians and other anti-woke voices who don’t like the state of the Right or “anti-woke” media. They built audiences criticizing progressive excess. Some may have even voted for Trump. Too anti-progressive for the present-day left, too anti-Trump for the right.
Centrists Drifting Right: People responding to audience incentives and cultural energy. They’re following where the engagement is (which has been rightward) or discovering they’re more right-wing than they thought.
The Older Liberal Center: Similar to the post-anti-woke but coming from a different starting point. These are traditional liberals who never went full-bore woke nor did they pivot to anti-woke. Here, I’m thinking of somebody like Ezra Klein or Gavin Newsom’s new stance.
The Grift Doubling-Down: Online right figures who’ve discovered that rage-bait pay the bills better than nuanced takes. They’re trapped in an increasingly extreme content cycle to maintain their audiences.
The New Old Left: I see more and more of these people every day. They’re leftists—and use that word—but they’re trying to improve their theory of mind of the right. They focus more on class than other dimensions of identity.

I've more or less "retired" from this, but I do remember how the pandemic was a gold age of "alternative thinkers" taking advantage of how many people were stuck inside and angry about it. I'll never forget how wrapped up I was in this sphere after my county went under lockdown. I've wasted 7 years of my life to "controversial politics" and making "unpopular opinions" so centric to myself. I haven't bothered to check out "where are they now" with a lot of the content I watched 5 years ago. I don't know if I want to find out. But now liberals and the portion of the left that didn't fall into pure antisemitism are trying to jump in on this train with the whole "dark woke" thing that's pro-offensive but anti-conservative for lack of a better description.

During lockdown it was easy to see all sides as the same and part of "the establishment", near the end of 2018 I became blackpilled and got lovebombed by a tankie who was the only person who reached out to me during an isolated time. When Biden won, it was also easy to continue being "anti-woke" because it was counter-cultural to be conservative. Now that Trump won, the anti-wokes have become "the culture", and seeing everything that's happened in the last 8 months... It isn't fucking worth it to obsess over what "woke" AKA more of a prescriptive than descriptive label even is. I really think obsessing over "wokeness" is borderline privileged when the economy, housing, and healthcare is more important. The "ex-liberal" morons will become single issue over "wokes" and vote Republican, despite nearly every recent recession being caused by a Republican. So many people have been laid off, had their medicaid slashed, veterans benefits lost, and so on, but at least we don't have "woke DEI / CRT" anymore!!! At least we don't see rainbows everywhere anymore!!! Shut up man lol. I never cared about the "DEI" and "CRT" shit. It felt similar to how I felt like I "had to" be on board with Leninism or whatever because I had other opinions in that umbrella. So I just sheep'd in the other direction by nodding along with psychos pretending these were the worst thing ever.

The "big tent" aspect was there in 2020 too. There was always a mix of actual right wingers, MAGA, classical liberals (technically center-right), "old school" anti-idpol Marxists, all under this one umbrella. And now that I'm no longer a "radical" or populist I just find it disgusting instead of an awesome display of solidarity. Because of course there's going to be splintering, even MAGA has had infighting when it comes to Trump's support of H1-B, Elon Musk getting disowned, the spats Tucker Carlson and Ted Cruz had over Iran, Marjorie Taylor Greene and Laura Loomer's catfight on Twitter, the pro-Netanyahu side of MAGA vs. the anti-Israel groypers, etc. This shit is so stupid, I hate these people so much.

I often have people online follow me under the assumption that I'm "based" and secretly in the same camp as they are. They always end up disappointed. I don't know how else to explain it to people, I'll probably figure it out when I have free time. I wasted almost half of my adult life on the bullshit and it's time to move on. I'm still not "PC" or "woke" and still skew "exclusionist" if we're using mid-2010s Tumblr lingo, but the real enemy is right in front of us and it's a matter of picking your hills to die on if you want to go out in the world and interact with real people. Not floating opinions or words on a screen from shut-ins. "Radicalness" is a poison that destroys you from the inside.

linky

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adore

Moontime began around noon today. Cramps were significantly less than last time, so the ayurvedic medicine I've been taking (a combination of ashokarishta and lodhrasava) is doing its thing. Last month I was obsessing over Nushu period panties. I've been pimping the Nushu Hiphugger to anyone and everyone when the topic of periods comes up, and someone I recced it to has become as much of a fan as I am:

I replied with my original post saying I'm the one who recced it, and this was her response (she @/ed me and I redacted my full name although you'll know it if you know my debut novel/have been around my blog long enough lol)

I'm not being dramatic when I say my life has changed. I could never wear a period product for four to six hours in one go without overflowing, before. My life has changed so much that I went out with Bella (who is here briefly) for brunch. We had congee and pancakes! And after we came back to my house to spend the day coworking. I even dropped her back home, despite that taking a couple of hours. I used to never be able to go out on my period.

Current Mood: nice

svgurl

rarepairexchange, an exchange focused on rare ships (less than 250 works, completed, written in English, and filtered using the otp:true option on ao3), is still open for sign-ups until August 20th, 11:59PM EDT.

Jump Scare is a multifandom flash exchange focused on spooky, spoopy, and horror. Nominations and sign-ups are open concurrently and close on August 21st, 8:59PM EDT.

crossworks, a fic/art crossover fandom exchange, is open for sign-ups until August 21st, 11:59PM EDT.

fffx, a multifandom gift exchange for 40-panel comics and 10,000+ word stories, is accepting nominations until August 27th, 11:59PM EDT.

sexpollenplus, a multi-fandom exchange focused on sex pollen and other fuck compulsion tropes, has opened sign-ups until August 31st, 7PM GMT.

ficinabox is open for sign-ups until August 31st, 9:59PM EDT. Late nomination are also being accepted until August 30th, 10PM EDT.

Stuffed with Love is a multifandom fic/art incest centric exchange. Sign-ups are open until August 31st, 11:5PM Eastern.

firstandlastalexchange, an omegaverse themed exchange, is open for nominations until October 24th, 11:55PM CDT. More info, including links and how to nominate, can be found HERE.

no_true_pair, a mad-libs-style challenge where you make a list of characters, a set of prompts is posted that uses all the characters in different combinations, and you create works using those characters, is opened Eight-Character Challenge sign-ups.

bbtp_challenge is running their 19th edition of Bring Back the Porn, where you post something porny to your journal or favorite archive (fic, art, recs, icons, etc) on September 1st.

fancake's theme of the month for August is: marriage of convenience. Click on the banner below to learn more!

Graphic in the style of a wedding invitation with flowing script: You are cordially invited to a... Marriage of Convenience (at) fancake.dreamwidth.org, August 2025. The color palette is white with dusty rose and muted pinks, and there are flowers—what looks like dogwood and lenten rose—in the upper right and lower left corner.

senmut

Sunflower Auction benefiting Ukraine is open for bidding.

My offer

linky

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linky

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paperghost

[x-post]

Uh... I don't have much to say this time! Furry Siesta is a smaller event in comparison, so there weren't as many panels or anything. Still a lot of people, though, and I'm still struggling how to socialize with strangers and make friends with people... Still don't understand Telegram groups, even though I joined one.

Off the top of my head:
- I regret not going to the 18+ vendors at TFF, but I did this time because it was in the dealer's den. Someone was caught vaping in there. Full offense, but don't do that shit. You can get everyone in trouble.
- Getting the nsfw stuff out of the way, I briefly was in a how-to shibari panel but it was awkward because I came in the middle of it alone and therefore didn't have anyone to follow instructions with. My leg fell asleep so I had to get up and leave
- The food at this hotel was even more expensive than the catering at TFF, geez. Sheraton had a Monster for $5, the Hyatt had Red Bulls for $7. I thought the slices of pizza for $4 was bad, well a small full pizza was $17. The food trucks outside on the other hand were worth the price and trekking out in the hot sun over, I'm still thinking about that egg burger I had for lunch yesterday.
-- I was looking forward to the bar, but I only got one drink before I left because I was too tired after 10PM... Ah well... The prices were bougie but the $17 martini I got was strong enough to get drunk off of, lol.
-- Did I mention I used my credit card for the food??? My line was raised because I pay it off twice a month, so maybe this will raise my score since I'll cover it next paycheck...
- I brought my Ivy itabag on both days, but only two people recognized it... I mean this is a furry con, not gaming or animu...
- I'm not a Hazbinnie but the musical on the 15th was fine, the girl playing Carmilla and a bunch of other characters stole the show.
- The drag show the next night was AWESOME and I can't wait for it to be uploaded on Youtube. That was my first drag show since I never go out and now I want to see more in the future.
- I still don't understand Fursonapins. I swapped out some enamel pins yesterday but I think I've accepted I'm stuck with some of them.
- I really need to get a badge :|
- My favorite panel was the LPS workshop... But my custom turned out so bad because I haven't used acrylic paints in so long!!! I'm slowly getting the paint off with rubbing alcohol, my little project to cope now will be to properly redo it at home.

This was probably the best birthday I've had in my 30s so far, I'm already sad I have to go back to work until further notice... After I got my drink at the bar, called my Uber, I came home to a pizza in the living room. There's another event in this state that happens to be on a day off, but it's farther out and I'm debating on if spending $[redacted] to Uber to and from will be worth it... I have until the 22nd to decide.

I have reluctantly accepted that the internet has changed since the last time I went to a con in 2013. I can't return to Twitter, but I have dusted off my Bluesky account (username may change, I can't settle on one) and will slowly follow people and names I collected via photos and business cards at some point. I met one mutual before the drag show, but didn't see another who was looking for me 😭

I spent the last day resting at home because I have to drag my ass to work tomorrow, I think next time I should request 4 days off so I can go on 3 days and rest on the 4th... Harmonycon is at the same hotel and there's a high chance I will be there in February. (Never been to a pony convention.) Same with next year's TFF and TFS.

I don't feel like proofreading this, I'm publishing it as-is.

linky

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senmut

Peace, After Knowing (100 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Smallville
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Lex Luthor
Additional Tags: Drabble, Introspection
Summary:

Lex's world is not peaceful

Peace, After Knowing

There's solace in not knowing, they say. There's peace in shutting your eyes, turning away.

They're all wrong.

Lex hasn't had a moment of peace since the meteor. Not from his father, not from life, and not from him.

That day, when Clark Kent crossed his path and saved his life, has only amplified the chaos inside of Lex. He aches to find the truth, to see what was hidden, to hold that knowledge as his own.

Clark is his keystone, could be a foundation to lay his peace on, if he can ever decipher the clues.

He'll keep trying.

Up Above (100 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Superman (Franchise)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Clark Kent
Additional Tags: Drabble, Introspection, +Modern Age (1986-Present)
Summary:

Clark has a way to deal with his choices

Up Above

There are nights when Clark just hovers, high enough up to be unseen, eyes sweeping over the city beneath him. It's a way of choosing solace without going so far away as to risk losing precious time to help others. He can still listen, still see, if he chooses to.

The peace of the cool air, the muting of other distractions — all of it allows him to settle his choices into place. He is only one man, and choices have to be made. He makes peace with where he could not be, then returns to his home.

He keeps choosing.

Helpers of Hope (100 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Batman (Franchise)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Bruce Wayne
Additional Tags: Drabble, Introspection
Summary:

Bruce reflects on what fans his hope.

Helpers of Hope

A wise man had once said 'look for the helpers'. Bruce has been doing it since before his parents were killed. Maybe it's because they both gave as much of themselves to others as they did to him. Maybe it's Alfred's teaching and example.

Maybe, it's because the ones that reach out and help give him hope.

He goes out, he stops what he can of the relentless tide of corruption and danger for his city's people.

In turn, they reach out to one another, make different choices, raise each other up.

It's enough to make him try even harder.

thepasteldyke

So for as much as I love Link Click, I took my sweet time finishing the yingdu arc. This is mostly cus I was watching it with my brother

tofistig , so we watched it a bit pö om pö. But! We finally finished watching it a few hours ago. I really enjoyed it. I think Felix/Xia Fei is really cute, Wang Qing is really hot. Qiao Ling is The Queen as usual, and stupid ShiGuang fucks me up as per usual.

I actually watched the first and second seasons as they aired, I remember just SCREAMING at the screen at the end of season one. And then the painful, painful wait for season two. The ending of season 2 was not as agonising for me, luckily. But lately I've had a hard time watching new shows. I haven't even finished the first season of Hell's Paradise, and the manga is one of my favs. I'm behind on a lot of manga too.

My brother is very into Vein lol. I can't say I don't get it.

Gotta say I'm pretty excited to see season 3 later on. I hope it wrecks me.

jenab

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senmut

Curse of the Faerie King (16004 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 7/7
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Zaknafein Do'Urden, Drizzt Do'Urden, Nalfein Do'Urden
Additional Tags: Mostly Gen, Eventual Relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Ensemble Cast, but with wide divergence
Summary:

Vierna was startled the first time her sister was a brother. But she wasn't going to let that stop Dreeza growing up strong, no matter what strings she had to pull.

Entire fic linked above, or read just the new chapter at AO3.

Curse of the Faerie King: Chapter 7

Being summoned by the Matron of the House was never a good thing in either wizard's mind. Gromph had more than enough trouble as Arch-Mage of the city. Nalfein, juggling the responsibility of raising Gromph's hidden child against teaching in Sorcere, merely hoped the mind-flayer wasn't present. He enjoyed being free to pursue his studies, teach the bright girl, and have Gromph satisfied with saving his life.

That the meeting was held on a walkway above a holding pit for slaves, full of filthy duergar was almost intriguing enough to offset Gromph's irritation. What was Yvonnel up to now?

"Both of you are to learn all that these wretches know about where they came from," she said without preamble. "All the ways in and out, and what sent them scurrying into our patrols."

Gromph scowled. "Enlighten us as to why duergar would know anything worth your time, Mother?"

Nalfein recognized the strategic familial title as a tactic he had once used against Malice's scheming. It was good to see some things remained the same despite changing Houses.

"Haerinvureem has been killed, and I seek vengeance for old business," Yvonnel told him, more forthcoming than Nalfein had expected. "Dwarves now hold a strategic location that I will possess. See to this task swiftly -- or else!"

"Yes, Matron," and "As you wish," overlapped. Nalfein surveyed the filthy lot in disdain, before the woman left them to it.

Nalfein itched in his robes the more the tales poured out of the duergar under his and Gromph's interrogation. There could not be two such drow in existence. He wasn't certain, but he also needed to learn for himself. If Matron Baenre was intent on conquest of the dwarf hall, and it was Dreeza, Nalfein had a wish to not face her in combat.

She had been Zaknafein's heir in all ways, after all, and the way she melded magic to her combat had proven deadly to at least one experienced wizard after all. And if she survived, did that mean the other two did? Could Nalfein find a way out of Menzoberranzan by putting his sister in his debt during the invasion?

Or because of it?

A slow, sly smile crossed his lips, enhancing his sinister opinion as he selected his next victim for the questioning, building a more complete picture of the Hall, its fighters, and most especially of the purple-eyed drow with two scimitars.

Gromph settled a plate of seared fungi between he and Nalfein, in the latter's rooms, and set the tangy sauce in its bowl above the plate. Nalfein noted it was his favorite, and had his unseen servant pour liquor from the bottle behind the usual blend.

"You got distracted. Luckily, Vendes doesn't pay close enough attention to men to notice," Gromph said.

"Considering this move to more openly have a resource close to the Surface, pondering the ramifications," Nalfein said idly, taking a bite afterwards to give himself time to think.

"You mean wasting resources on something when we have other means of gathering all we could ever need from above?"

Nalfein's eyes went wide to hear Gromph be so critical, so openly. The Arch-Mage tapped a certain ring he wore, reassuring the younger man that all was hidden, for now.

"It seems this would be more a move for her than to glorify Her," Nalfein said very carefully. "So many things could go wrong, even."

"Hmm, but how to insure the correct things go wrong?" Gromph asked, considering plans and contingencies.

"We make contact with the drow involved." Nalfein knew this was a risk, but had weighed and measured where Gromph stood, was certain Gromph himself had been why Baenre took him in instead of ordering his death when Malice fell.

"A drow who fights by dwarves is no ally to ones like us, my dagger-wand."

Oh, he had Gromph intrigued if the endearments were coming out.

Nalfein smiled, a dangerous one, and nodded. "Except. I believe the drow is Malice's last child, and I did all I could to keep that one friendly with me."

"That one, is it? The daughter that was never schooled?"

"The child," Nalfein corrected, "that could never pass through school because of the Curse of the Faerie King."

Gromph's expression shifted rapidly through several emotions, before he returned the smile. "Nalfein, you keep being useful to me."

"Good. You keep me supplied with books, after all."

They both laughed, tabling the talk of their treachery for now, as it would take some time to work out the angles. One way or another, they were going to twist Yvonnel's desires for the dwarven hall into her downfall.

Nalfein shut his eyes as he slipped into his room for the night, a headache pounding from being under constant low light elsewhere in the city. He'd only just started to remove his outer robes, taxed by teaching Lirael a more advanced potion, stretching her ability yet again. He did not want the knock on the door, or the fact it was a specific rhythm to tell him Gromph was there.

At least the man knocked. In the early days of his assignment under Baenre patronage, the man had often just walked in, to make the point of who Nalfein needed to keep happy. He shrugged the robe back into place, made sure his favorite wand was in place, and let the unseen servant open the door.

Gromph, and the mercenary leader known as Jarlaxle entered and closed the door back.

"Tut, tut, no lights?" that dandified drow asked in a flippant tone.

"Shut it, Jarlaxle. Nalfein has more than earned the relief from them."

"Ahh, a good little pet."

Nalfein refused to bridle, showing nothing but contempt toward the unsettling man.

"What brings you with him, Arch-Mage?" he did ask politely, fixing his main attention on his superior.

"We have the beginning of a plan, to see about threads we may pull," Gromph said. "Jarlaxle, stop needling Nalfein; I assure you he works far more efficiently on a peer to peer level than being reminded of the past."

Jarlaxle swept his hat off, dipping in a bow with it over his chest to Nalfein. "Apologies, good saer. It's so rare that I get to meet the ones Gromph squirrels away, as if he fears I would poach your services for my own small pursuits."

Gromph did not actually growl, but there was an impression of it — and Nalfein relaxed further. This strange man was someone his friend was comfortable with, to a degree, and that meant it was safer to show ease in the situation.

"How may I assist in pulling threads then?"

"How's your penmanship?" Jarlaxle asked in a jaunty tone. "I may be able to have a letter delivered, to your unusual contact through a third party."

Nalfein looked at Gromph, who nodded. "Such a letter would add one more step of plausible escape for myself, after all," Gromph said. "And Jarlaxle knows how to keep his balancing act in place."

"I've managed so far," the man cheerfully said.

Nalfein acquired his writing materials, made himself remember which version of the longhand writing Dreeza had been taught, and nodded, hastily writing the letter that was needed. He was a little surprised when Jarlaxle added a few details in his idle conversation with Gromph, ones that had not been known to either of them, and he wondered just who the mercenary actually was in the scheme of things.

Nalfein was surprised to learn that the svirfnebli were to be the messengers. He listened to the threat and dismissal exchange, as clearly choreographed as if it were a performance, but obviously built from long association, as he sized up the shaman with the other deep gnome. He could not recall ever seeing them this close before, not even in his youth as a common fighter for House Do'Urden.

"Any betrayal!"

"Of course, dear Firble, of course." Jarlaxle then walked away, looking purposefully away from the other three. Nalfein was still uncertain as to the extent of the mercenary's involvement in House Baenre, but Gromph had been specific. Nothing said at this meeting could be heard by the mercenary, once Nalfein was the speaker.

"I will need to provide a hush over us, so that my ally can remain free and clear of what is said, as it deals with drow of a House that no longer exists," Nalfein told the pair.

"We are watching you, and you will die if you use trickery to foul us," Firble promised him.

"I can almost respect your tenacious hold on those threats," Nalfein told the smaller gray man.

"Go ahead, drow," the shaman said, and Nalfein pulled up his particular version of silence, coupled with a non-detection that obscured them from sound or sight. He'd kept this spell for himself ever since an accidental casting of it, finding it useful against clerics.

"I have a letter. It is for a drow who allies to the dwarves in the Hall above, the one Jarlaxle gave you a map to. The letter must go to this drow, to avert certain plans that could damage all of us in this section of the Underdark."

"How can we trust you to not be setting the dwarves up for betrayal?" Firble demanded.

"Because that drow was — is — my sibling, and once my student. I am of House Do'Urden, and so is the drow. I have interests in making sure my student stays alive, safe, and not mad at me."

He could not admit to wanting to be out of Baenre's House, to wanting a measure of vengeance for the fall of his own, but that much might appeal to their sense of family ethics.

"Give us the letter," the shaman said. "We will renew our ties with the dwarves, now that the Living Shadow is dead. And if the drow chooses to listen, it is done."

Nalfein pulled the letter out, passing it over, and inclined his head. "Until we meet again, some day perhaps. Peacefully, even."

Firble made a rude noise, but then Nalfein dispersed the magic, and both parties went their own way.

"ELF!"

Drizzt had been told the king wanted him right away, and he had come as soon as he could, canceling a holiday with Alustriel. That was often their lives; one or the other would be needed elsewhere.

"I apologize for how long it took me; none of the Tall Ones were in the city, and I did not want to bother a wizard," he said as he came over.

Bruenor counted on his fingers, then glared at his friend. "S'posed tae be five days 'twixt here and there, not three!"

Drizzt laughed, then they clasped hands in true greeting.

"So what has happened?"

"Deep gnomes, asking for the drow named Do'Urden," Bruenor said. "Been getting by, but hard tae speak proper with nae words in common."

Drizzt frowned, then gestured for Bruenor to guide him to the guests. "I cannot imagine why deep gnomes would wish to speak with me, but at least they usually have some Undercommon." No message would come all this way from his father or sister via gnomes; they had more direct means. Vierna had insisted that her little sister always have the sending stone on her, and could ask for the spell from her god anyway. Zak would send messages through Vierna… so Drizzt was at a loss.

"Do'Urden?" one of the three deep gnomes asked even as Bruenor led him into the guest suite that had been hastily made in the Undercity.

"Yes, and I promise I am not like other drow," Drizzt said swiftly in Undercommon, noting the stiffened postures. "May I bring up faerie fire? Bruenor is not able to see in this low a light, and I have lived under lights more than not."

"Polite," the shaman said, all three relaxing, before the first one nodded at Drizzt's request. The purple faerie fire settled above them, centered, and Bruenor relaxed some as well, not having liked being in the dark so fully.

"Need the light, anyway," the third one told him. "We have a letter, from one of your House."

Dinin, maybe? Which opened new worries, as Dinin might know of a threat to his family, given Jarlaxle and Zaknafein being so obviously fond of one another.

The first pulled out the letter, and Drizzt immediately forgot about Dinin. The way it had been puzzle-folded was Nalfein's doing, completely.

House Baenre. That was where Drizzt's wizard-brother had wound up. Which made him hold his hand over the letter for a longer moment, seeking if it held magic.

Once he determined it wasn't a magical trap, he did take it, and moved to lean against the wall, carefully unfolding it to avoid damaging the writing within.

After deciphering the words, he closed his eyes, and looked at the svirfnebli. "My gratitude for being the messengers, and I offer a warning. Pull your people in, until Menzoberranzan retreats." He then looked at Bruenor and switched languages. "We need to ready for war, my friend."

"Thought as much, me elf. Well, so be it."

The only reason Vhaeraun allowed His cleric to go aid dwarves was because those dwarves had killed a drow nemesis in the form of Shimmergloom. Zaknafein had not been certain at first, but knew ways to defuse whatever part Bregan D'aerthe was forced to play in the invasion.

With the warning, the Hall was prepared for the invasion, and Menzoberranzan was going to be licking its wounds for some time. All drow captives who surrendered were turned over to Vierna to be sifted out to her Lord's cities for new lives.

Except one.

Nalfein woke with a headache, stripped to his skin save a rough long tunic, and his sibling sitting across from him. Her — their? his? — face was still swollen from a whip-bite, and one arm was in a cast, but Dreeza looked at peace.

"Sorry we had to strip you down," Dreeza told him. "We didn't want anything you were carrying to be a 'return to sender' charm, and Vierna wanted to be sure you had a choice."

"So our sister does live, and I thought I glimpsed the Weapon Master," Nalfein said, nonchalant about his current state, even as he shifted on the cot he had been laid out on. "Thank you for listening to the letter. Care to tell me the end result?"

"One Matron escaped the party of them with the enslaved dwarf king. He, his descendant, myself, and father accounted for the rest, their attending junior clerics, the mind-flayer, and a handful of other drow that stupidly got in the way."

Nalfein was betting it had been Oblodra, but didn't ask. Dreeza would have said in Baenre herself had been the escapee. "What now, little sibling?"

Dreeza lit up at that casual acceptance of being different. "I mostly go by Drizzt these days, and have more control over the change. Vierna will always call me Dreeza; she's a possessive wean-mother/big sister."

Nalfein chuckled. "She had her peculiar ways."

"As to you? You can either 'escape' us and flee to Menzoberranzan, if that is where you wish to be, or you can take up an offer to go very far away, with a letter of reference from Vierna, to attach yourself to a temple of Vhaeraun as a wizard."

Nalfein's eyebrow arched at that, and things clicked further into place. "Is she there to help me figure out the ways of it?"

Dreeza nodded. "And father, who has grudgingly said you were tolerable all the years he knew you."

"Abyssal stones, but I remember how jealous every fighter was that he got the spot for Melee Magthere that year," Nalfein mused. "I wasn't yet officially an apprentice to the House Wizard of the time, but I was just as glad to not be dodging that many murder attempts."

"Oh you'll have to tell Vierna stories about what you remember!" Dreeza said in delight. "If — "

"Oh I intend to take her offer. Gromph is a comfortable associate, but he is still very drow and I could become useless or a liability to him at any time." Nalfein shrugged. "Never cared for Lloth, probably won't care for her god, but if I can keep learning the arts, I will go."

"Good." Dreeza stood up, still graceful even with the aftermath of the battle stamped on them. When his sibling sat beside him, Nalfein decided to keep currying favor, having noted the value of clothing and armor alike marking Dreeza — Drizzt — as still high-ranked in their new life. He slung an arm up over the shoulders, careful not to jar the broken arm, and looked over at Drizzt.

"Is starting over hard?" he asked.

"Not when you choose it. Not when you want freedom that much."

"Glad to hear it, little sib." He squeezed a little. "If I tell you which items I know were mine and untouched, can I have them back?"

"Describe them, and I will sort through. The rest of them will have to be checked over by a stronger wizard — wait, you said Gromph. I might have to ask my Lady to visit, then, so it is another Arch-Mage checking them over."

Nalfein threw his head back and laughed, hearing his strange sibling admit that level of a relationship.

"Dreeza, no, Drizzt. I am so damn glad Vierna managed to save you, and that Mother listened to me and her about how best to use your presence in the family."

"I am too, Nalfein, and I'm actually glad you survived," Drizzt admitted, leaning into him. "House Do'Urden, ancient house of Daermon N'a'shezbaernon, represented by a Vhaeraunite cleric, best swordsman ever, a canny wizard, a fair enough lizard riding fighter, and me! Pretty sure some cosmic entity is laughing over the change of fortunes."

"Yeah I guess… wait, Dinin?!"

Drizzt settled in to fill in the gaps, about their other brother, and life since the city for them all.

senmut

Drift Ghosts (150 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Pacific Rim [2013]
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Mako Mori
Additional Tags: Drabble and a Half, Speculation
Summary:

Mako considers what she knows, what could be.

Drift Ghosts

Drift ghosts.

Mako knew they existed. She'd felt the man that Yancey Beckett had been through the Drift. She'd felt like part of Chuck's problems outside the Drift had been contending with the ghost of Herc's former partner, his uncle.

The Drift held every lost pilot, every lost jaeger. Some nights, she entertained the idea of trying to find them all, to pull them out of the survivors' minds, out of Tendo's biometric data, and giving them new form.

She was convinced Yancey had been with them, had helped save Raleigh. Could those ghosts find a new way to exist, if they just channeled the technology in the right way? Mainframes built to house that experience, the transformed residue of once living people and brilliantly made machines? Could that be the beginning of a new protection against new threats in the future?

She didn't have answers, but she kept questioning.

senmut

Well-Meshed Allies (450 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Legends - All Media Types
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Lando Calrissian/Mara Jade
Characters: Lando Calrissian, Mara Jade
Additional Tags: Romantic Friendship
Summary:

Mara recognizes a threat while on mission with Lando and others.

Well-Meshed Allies

Lando was the one who noticed her hand was shaking, Mara noted, almost gratefully, as he used his effusive mannerisms to take it, lifting it to his lips in that gallant way of his.

The eye contact said everything; anything that could upset her control was a galaxy level threat and he was on guard.

She just had to focus on keeping her presence wrapped tightly to herself, while hoping the rapport between Han and Lando would tip off the other half of their little mission.

Thank the Force that Luke hadn't come along on this one! He still didn't know how to cloak, and with another Force user manipulating people and events, they had to be careful. There were Inquisitors that Mara knew were not among the confirmed dead, and she had never been certain of how many Hands actually existed, once she had sifted through her memories and all of the Emperor's lies to her.

"How'd I let you get so far from me?" Lando asked in his suave, playful voice, moving to drape his arm around her, leaning in for kissing her cheek and a nibble along her jaw… putting his ear close enough to hear secrets.

"Dancer, red and black, trained like me," she conveyed with as little lip movement as possible, so he knew who the threat was. She then gave him a playful shove, and followed up with a soft laugh, easily falling into the role of 'couple still new to one another'.

She wasn't certain just how the communication between Han and Lando worked, but when the sith-trained dancer made her move to get the same informant Leia needed, she actually tripped over Han who had moved with that uncanny timing of his. Lando handled crowd control, Leia started organizing the people who actually were reacting…

…and Mara gave chase to the other woman, half of a mind to strike her down, and half — the half poisoned by Luke's compassion and belief in the better of people — looking for a way to help the woman crawl out of the Dark Side.

"You!" the woman hissed when she was cornered.

"You don't have to be his any longer."

The words were ignored, as a Force Choke came into play… but Mara had been training, more fully, in using the Force. A few minutes later, Mara closed the other woman's eyes, and went back to Lando. He didn't say anything, just tucked her close, and kept her that way as they made their way out of the casino.

He knew she didn't want empty comfort, understood hard choices almost better than Leia, but also not to leave her alone.

It's why he mattered so much.

senmut

Actual Meeting (400 words) by Sharpest_Asp
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Nyota Uhura, T'Pring
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

Uhura meets T'Pring

Actual Meeting

Uhura had been fascinated by the woman in the transmission, and shocked to learn of her status. When they left Vulcan's orbit, she had put the encounter out of her mind, focused on the missions ahead. She certainly had not thought of T'Pring since that day, or that there was a chance of running into her during this course held on Vulcan while the Enterprise was undergoing a minor refit.

Yet the prim lines, the hauteur all captured the memory of that transmission as Uhura noted the woman enter the study room with her. She knew she should not use past experience to reach out, and yet she had never been anything but outgoing and friendly, even here on this arid world of logic.

"Greetings," she said in a low, quiet voice, just being polite, she decided. "Nyota Uhura, currently studying the translations of your world's poetry."

A slender eyebrow rose, before the woman inclined her head just slightly. "I would recommend reading S'task, what survives, if you are seeking to understand our people more, but only balanced by those poets which are in the approved course.

"I recall your features. I am T'Pring, as you may remember."

"I did. I do remember those people that have a striking presence," Uhura told her. "Thank you, for the recommendation."

"I found S'task enlightening, as to how we came to be who we are," T'Pring said. "Most who come to study on Vulcan are seeking an understanding."

"Perceptive," Uhura said, "as I find the arts a better way of filling in the dry data of history and statistics when I am learning any new language or people."

That surprised T'Pring, if Uhura was any judge, but which part?

"Not many Terrans seek to learn our language."

"I find the more languages I know, the easier it is to find peaceful solutions," Uhura said to that. "But language is only a beginning, and thus I study the culture."

"I find the logic in that impeccable," T'Pring praised, before she indicated her own study pad. "I am furthering my studies in psychology, sociology, and how the individual needs contrast or complement the societal ones."

"As I've studied multiple peoples, and could use a local expert on language, would you be opposed to a study appointment for the weeks I am here?" Uhura offered, seeing how she could help.

"This time, every day," T'Pring agreed.

linky

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has marked as possibly inappropriate for anyone under the age of 18. )

adore

I've finished writing Project Fang. I'm partway through the final edits, and it'll be done in a matter of days. It's also the first book in a duology, which became clearer to me the closer I reached the end by vindrae on kingdom of knuffel

I was worrying so much about crafting enough plot to sustain a novel that I overshot by quite a lot by vindrae on kingdom of knuffel

I'm happy with the arc of the first book though, it stands pretty well on its own.

The closer I come to putting it out in the world, the more mixed up my feelings become. I enjoy this book immensely, it has much of what I like in it. But I'm not feeling that heady elation I got when I finished my previous books. What I'm feeling is more akin to post-book blues. I'm trying to understand why I feel closer to depressed this time. I mean, in general this process has felt empowering. I thought I couldn't write after all the stuff I'd been through, and it turned out I could. Also, after being offered my dream job and that offer being retracted before I could take it, here I was, giving myself my dream job. Nobody can take it from me because nobody can stop me writing and publishing my next book. Here's something that's truly mine and that nobody can take away from me. I should be overjoyed, no?

I want to get to the bottom of this but I don't know how. Have you experienced anything similar? Would appreciate any lights that can be shed here. by vindrae on kingdom of knuffel

I guess I haven't felt very excited about books in general because of certain bad experiences, but I have had good experiences too, have also met good people and had a lot of help from fellow writers. I've asked myself over the past few days whether I truly still love books or whether I'm just hanging on to them because I haven't been able to fall in love with anything else the way I did with books as a child. But I know I do love them! I just haven't felt it that often lately. I thought becoming part of the indie space would help me feel it more often and it does help. It's been helping me all this time! It's like the sole reason I didn't relapse into depression. It's just now, that it's feeling... like this.

I have messaged my therapist, but I have not managed to get a slot with her for months because of work (last time I talked to her was March). I hope I can wrangle a session with her soon, but I can't count on it. Maybe I should bring this up somewhere on the indie author discord I'm in. I don't know. I'm just so confused.

Maybe this is just PMS, y'all. Maybe? //crosses fingers, toes and eyes
Maybe it's going to find a new way to make me question everything every month, or something. I don't know. At least that would be an explanation. Right now I'm just unable to figure out what's underlying this.

Current Mood: gloomy

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