#lavender au

[lele5429]

For the Lavender AU by @hilzelism 🪻💜🐰

I’m very lucky to have a front row seat to my favourite characters’ struggles and breakdowns. May there be more Serious Ravios™️, Lorule tragedies, and psychological horror.

[noblefemme]

"PLAYTIME"

(A part of my Lavender AU)

They are co-parenting Octavia and still fights (in a pranking and bickering way)

[bartletslesbians]

Actually gonna figure out a specific CJ and Danny bearding AU scene to write because @abigailbartletmd put the thought in my head and now I am simply obsessed with it.

Like specifically I'm considering something in season one that's just them Perfecting the art of talking work and flirting Just the right amount and then sitting down in her office to discuss the logistics of them each seeing their respective partners that week and just. It works so well. They've practised this.

[clydeswob]

CAVETOWN SONG? I'D NEVER SJSJSAJ

Song: It's u by Cavetown

Lavender Au by: @mack-timelines

THIS SONG this song made me think of them so hard...I SPENT my whole day with these and I hope you all like this- I hope I made people cry 🌹

[lavender-lozau]

Lavender 001

It was amazing how one bad fall could alter one's entire life.

I'd awoken, head throbbing, to the annual rings of my master's home spinning in the low lights of glowing mushrooms. Tomes of varying sizes and weight laid across and under me. Pages brushed against my legs, though I barely registered it.

No. What occupied my thoughts upon blearily staring at the ceiling were memories. Ideas, thoughts, experiences, and more that were not my own but inexplicably present within my own mind. At first, I believed them to be a result of the fall, the heavy tome I was reaching for near the top of the shelves having offset my balance. A brief bout of befuddlement that would soon leave me. However, as I further came to, the thoughts did not fade. They multiplied. Expanded. Little insignificant details latched onto ridiculous moments, which fed into delusional sights and sounds. Madness. That was the only word for it. A whole lifetime's worth of madness that battered my mind and insisted it was right. That it was truth.

A shorter lifetime's memories fought back, full of frustration and longing. Rage was met with apathy, despair intertwined with misery, stress tore apart fondness; scattered impressions and sentiments clawed for priority with images and opposing languages.

Then my master entered, and all such confusion was shelved in the face of an impending lecture.

That was two weeks past. My duties and lessons did not permit me to idly ruminate on the sudden intrusion of foreign concepts and imagery. There was always something to do, some exercise or lecture or chore that needed to be taken care of between my self-study sessions. The Minish Realm would be closed to the Human World for several years more, and if I wished to have anything approaching a plan for when the passageway opened, I needed to make the most of my dwindling time. Surely there would be something worth my while to pursue in the Human World. At the same time, there was little excuse not peruse my master's collection for whatever magicks he deemed worthy of his home.

The list of magic spells that Master Ezlo had amassed was...specialized, in a sense. They were mid- to high-level across a multitude of disciplines with the odd pragmatic enchantment slipped in. Basic spells were completely absent from his scrolls and books. The books he did have referenced the gap they would have otherwise filled as stepping stones to understand greater spells. Those gaps forced me to speculate how the missing spells would work, wasting my precious time when I could be doing something more useful.

My new -- old? -- set of memories somewhat...helped in that regard. Whoever "Heather" had been in life had immensely enjoyed fictional works of "fantasy". Particularly ones with detailed magic systems. Hardly a useful whit of knowledge when considering such dubious origins. Yet, my efforts had not borne fruit in months. What did I have to lose by testing the waters?

One of the precursors to Din's Fire was a simple heating spell meant to warm the self in colder weather. "Heather's" memories indicated several methods of attempting to summon fire. Visualizing, meditating, feeling "the fire within", chanting spells, rituals. What definitely would not work was firmly ignored and I set to work. In the end, after hours of trial and error, what finally worked was sitting on top a mushroom beneath a ray of sunlight and focusing on moving the heat throughout my body.

I tried again the day after. Beneath the sun, near glowing mushrooms, by candlelight. Anywhere there was light or heat I attempted the spell. Sometimes it went quickly, sometimes slowly, but it always worked eventually.

I almost couldn't believe it! Such a simple spell with such a simple method of harnessing it. It was laughable!

When Master Ezlo caught me, he scoffed, saying such a spell was beneath me. Said I had better things to work on than a cheap trick.

All that work, and he saw it as worthless! And worst of all, it was! What need had I for a body warming charm to access Din's Fire anyways?

'To keep the fire outside of you.' Heather's treacherous little voice whispered in my ear. I hated it. I hated her, the wretched herb-girl whose life was now suddenly in my head.

I could not even argue with the logic! If I knew how heat flowed into me, then I could feel how it flowed out of me and take shape in my hands.

When Master Ezlo inevitably gave me the weekly task to gather herbs, I knew I had to do something about the double set of memories. They clashed uncomfortably for the slightest and pettiest of reasons. Sleep eluded me more frequently as I attempted to banish or reconcile differences while going to bed. If Master Ezlo even bothered to notice, he said nothing.

With one of the ingredients he required in the next village over, I was free to finally focus on the absurdity I had found myself in.

I was Vaati, apprentice to Master Ezlo, the great Sage. I lived with him after begging that he take me on and proving myself capable of following his directions and casting a spell without an incantation. Once. He taught me potioncraft, minor enchantments, and the occasional spell to aid with household chores or foraging, but largely left me to study things for myself as I had proven to be self-sufficient. It was all an excuse in order to ignore me and drink tea all day in his study.

I was Heather, data analysis and bottom rung in a corporation that cared more for the bottom rupee-dollar than their own workers' lives. I worked 72 hours a week, barely eating, barely sleeping, stuck in a rut without end. When I had time, I read books -- any book -- preferably in the cool shade, and took any excuse to get out of the apartment and talk to people. Seemingly died from over-exhaustion and poor health.

Only one of these statements could be true. And yet, deciding which was which was difficult. Was I Vaati, having absorbed a human's memories and soul in some unseeing, unknowing way? Or was I Heather, having replaced Vaati entirely and absorbed his own experiences as my own? And when Master Ezlo found me, had I defaulted to his memories and followed everything he said to the letter because there was no other path?

Something inside me twisted, revolted at the very idea of Vaati being done away with so easily and unseen. Meanwhile, there was a disturbing sense of pity from the Heather side of my memories at the same notion.

Rage boiled in my gut. Pity? For me-him-her-us? The feeling was plucked, thrashed, and ruthless tossed aside like an unwanted weed. Pity. What need had I of pity? Nothing!

Such a disgustingly weak human, this herb-girl. First, death by overworking for those who saw no worth in her. Then this...this insulting impression! Such feeble thoughts had no place in my present or my future.

That sealed matters. Heather - herb-girl - was the intrusion here, not Vaati. Not me. I had her knowledge and experiences, which I would make good usage of, but everything else?

I would rip asunder, root and stem!

[orangesartblog]

I RECENTLY FOUND OUT THAT SOMEONE UPDATED THE WIKI idk when, but there's sections for each station and engine on the stationmaster and driver/fireman wikis and whoever you are I love you so much, I downloaded SO MANY

So I thought I'd draw my lil guys over them, didn't draw the fat controller cause... Bro I couldn't be arsed with that angle 😭

Originals under the cut :)

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[purplecharater-pc]

I dunno which is better, but anyways this is Nightmare!Lavender, he can be called Navenmare or Navender, maybe NM Tulip

This is his flower up close its a nightmare tulip

[divorcedlizbartlet]

“I wanted to tell you in person” + the wwii au 💜

this is my first time writing rhodestead bc i'm certifiably insane. those two have Something Going On okay and now they have Something Going On in like. 1946. i have actually just now decided this is post-war and i may change the au tag or i may not. we'll see!

"Hey," Will says, sliding into the diner booth and running a hand through his hair, "I, uh... I kinda thought we would be meeting somewhere more... well, private." He picks up the mug of black coffee that's already in front of him, pouring a small amount of milk from the pitcher.

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to start here," Connor says, shrugging and giving his usual half-smile, like the other half is a secret hiding the real emotion in his expression. "It's, well. It's earlier than our more outrageous meetups, isn't it? And all you said was that you needed to talk."

"Yeah," Will agrees, his jaw working. "I wanted to sit down and talk with you. Not like a friendly business lunch between vague acquaintances. Haven't we been over this, Con? I don't wanna be following you around like a puppy somewhere I can't even hold your hand."

"Hey, I don't want that either," Connor agrees, his tone softening. "This isn't one of dad's public dinners. I just, I don't know. I thought it might be nice to go out somewhere for a bit. Not always have to hide."

"Yeah, well, you and me? We will always have to hide," Will snaps. "And it's about to get worse."

Connor looks down at his plate of pie, which matches the one he'd pushed over toward Will. "You know, I don't think I'm that hungry. Want to walk?"

"Yeah." Will takes a halfhearted swig of his coffee. "Let's."

"So." They make it a few blocks, and Connor holds out his hand for Will to take. Will squeezes hard. "What did you need to talk about."

"Connor..." Will stares at the ground, watching the concrete under their feet, trying to soak up the warmth from Connor's palm and from his body heat mostly hidden by expensive wool. "I... I wanted to tell you in person. I... I didn't really decide this so much as have it decided for me, but... things are about to change, love." The street they're walking down is empty, but his volume still drops on the endearment out of habit. "Look, I don't want you to be upset about this, but... I'm getting married."

Connor actually stops walking. "Wait, what?"

"I don't have a choice," Will says flatly. "Dad is-- and Jay-- I have to be helping them both, I have to make Dad proud. It'll just be a lot easier, not just for me but for us, if there's a woman in the house. And, uh. Well, Dad wants grandkids."

Connor's facial expression is twisted into something akin to disgust. "What's your wife going to think of you running off to meet with another man in secret? How could this possibly make things easier for us?"

"Because she's in the same boat," Will explains. "Connor, I wouldn't be doing this if I wasn't absolutely sure it was the only way to stay afloat, and to stay with you."

Connor blinks in surprise, leaning against the brick wall of one of the buildings forming the alley. "Wait. You're saying you're marrying a woman who's... like us?"

"Just like us," Will murmurs, reaching for his hand again. "She was a nurse overseas, met another nurse... I think she's working as a midwife right now, but her family is upset. She's from rural fuckin' Indiana and now she's alone in the big city with only a strange woman for company? We both need each other. To stay safe."

"But I'm in the same boat," Connor protests.

"No." Will shakes his head. "You're not."

Connor scrubs a hand over his face. "Will..."

"Hey." Will reaches out to take both his hands. "I love you."

Connor looks withdrawn and upset, and Will can feel in his chest that it's going to be a week or two before he agrees to meet up again. Before he can stop himself, he leans forward and kisses Connor softly, stepping away after the chaste gesture and leaving a safe amount of space between them. He smiles wryly. "I'll invite you to the wedding."

"Goodbye, Will," Connor says, turning away but letting his hand brush Will's wrist. Will grabs on.

"No," he promises. "Not for too long."