#I hope I did okay! It always strikes me sourly when people are seen as their illnesses and disabilities before they’re seen as a person | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginethezeldaverse · 5 months

Note

Hello! I don't know if you write for the more obscure characters in Botw/Totk but I figured I'd ask just in case ☺️ Could you please write something about Tauro, Purah, Sidon and Zelda dating a Sheikah s/o who's chronically ill/disabled? It'd be great if you could make them specifically have weak bones and be really short too, and they're often upset how people keep babying them because they might fracture or break something. But if you want to keep it more open-ended that's fine too!

Thank you so so much, you're probably my favorite Zelda blog on Tumblr! Your writing and ideas are always like *chefs kiss* 😘! Have a good day and drink lots of water!

Whenever people tell me I'm their favorite anything it literally shocks me because there are SO many fantastic zelda fic blogs on here that I feel are vastly superior - but I thank you nonetheless! 🥰

I'll write for pretty much any character - I just keep romance and nsfw content for adults. So I'd be happy to!

Tauro, as well-mannered and good-natured he is, is amongst the mass where he needs to be reminded that while you are disabled, you aren't incapable of doing normal things. He tries his best to remember that, but his rambunctious and steadfast nature leads him to be righteous and helpful, even when it's not needed. Plus given his height, he always just assumes that people tend to need help to reach things in tall places if he's ever around. He does try his best to be sensitive to your needs and wants, however, tapping his hand to his chest when he catches himself doing too much. Instead, he makes an effort to remind himself to wait for you to ask him should you need anything. Very affectionate, otherwise - he enjoys making you smile and wrapping his big ol' bear arms around you (albeit, he's careful not to actually squeeze you too hard because he does NOT know his own strength) and is very attentive on the days that you specifically don't feel well and your body leaves you in a weaker state than normal.

Purah, being the research fanatic and accomplished scientist that she is, is already aware and well read on your illness. That, however, has never stopped her from being absolutely smitten with you. Where she is boisterous and outlandish, there is a careful resilience to you that she keeps close to her heart. She sees your frustration often with the townsfolk who treat you with unnecessary delicacy, and while she understands the "good-intent", she feels as you do: chronic illness should not beget differential treatment. When you express your frustrations, she's an open ear always. Purah is never one to explain why the people of your community act this way that leans in their favor, but rather why their attitudes should not portray you under a fragile light when you are anything but. She empathizes with you greatly, knowing exactly what it's like for your own people to treat you like you're something you're not (her experiences with de-aging left quite the mark), but she assures you that you've always got her on your side.

“I’ve never much like everyone else…and neither have you,” Purah muses, tapping her recorder in her hand. She lifts her glasses, her crimson eyes blazing in your direction with admiration and sincerity, “I guess that makes us a cut above the rest, now doesn’t it?”

Sidon is about as bubbly with you as you can imagine. That sharp smile completely alight when you're with him. His height difference compared to yours doesn't bother him considering he towers greatly over just about everyone he meets, so as long as you don’t care (which he secretly hopes you don’t!) then all is well. When he learns about your chronic illness, he’s at first admittedly worried, but he sees how much you value your independence and doesn’t push you to do less than anything you’re up for. Sidon, having learned his healing capabilities from Mipha, will actually offer to “bathe” with you whenever you’re not feeling especially strong, letting the softness of his magically imbued water immerse your body and take any pain or pressure off of your form for a while and bring you some ease. You don’t take him up on it often, half because you don’t feel it’s always necessary, and half because you don’t want to impose - though of course Sidon would refute you ever being an imposition upon him. He chooses his words very carefully, making sure to give you the impression that he’s willing to do whatever you need should you need something from him, but without overstepping and making you feel incapable.

“You’ll never be without, my darling,” Sidon whispers, taking your hand, those slit-pupiled eyes softening as he brushes back a lock of your silver-white hair, “But I will never claim to know you better than yourself.”

Zelda has always been a ball of curiosity, that’s one of the things you love about her. She has an awfully curious mind, so when you explain to her about your chronic illness for the first time, she of course asks you a lot of questions. You laugh thinking about back then, how she felt terrible for borderline prying into your life though she wanted to know everything about you at that time. You remember assuring her that it was fine, and it made you incredibly grateful that Impa had introduced you before she stepped down - it allowed you two to get close. The times that you’ve gone to town together, Zelda takes notice of how people tend to treat you akin to porcelain: delicate, fragile, some even giving off the impression that you’re a lost cause because of your Sheikah heritage. Combined with your stature (with Zelda herself being on the shorter side of an average Hylian’s height), it’s enough to infuriate you both. You two tend to bounce off of one another: shes sticks up for you when you feel like someone’s unnecessarily babying you, and you put your two cents in whenever someone is overly cautious and hovering due to her status, even after proving herself beyond capable. Ultimately she too understands your plight of people looking at you differently because of who are you or what they know about you. She recants the days when her father treated her as helpless and small, hyper focused on keeping her in line rather than letting her be her own person. She takes your hand, intertwining fingers with yours and lending you a genuine smile.

“But we are not weak. We are not frail or easily broken. I am not defined entirely by my title,” Zelda kisses the top of your hand before gently covering it with her other in an endearing move, “And you are not defined by your illness.”

61 notes · View notes

multifandomwriter18 · 4 years

Note

13, 16, and 37 for reader x turtles? I'm partial to Leo, Raph, or Donnie, but you decide! I love your stuff!! Hope this request isnt too boring 🐢🐢❤🐢💙🐢💜🐢

~Hi darling! Thanks for requesting. Number 13 was already done but I'll be more than happy to do your other two requests! I hope liked them!!~

-Also I decided to write both at the same time so enjoy.-

Raph x reader: Prompt - "Okay, I know we're all a bit sleep deprived and aggressive but let's be rational about this."

There has been a huge spike of crime going on in the city of the New York. Especially with the Foot which only meant that the boys were always out and taking these goons down.

Its wasn't much of a battle with them. They were horribly skilled and of course stand no chance against the team but after a while it gets tiring and becomes alot on them to deal with.

You can't even remember the last time you had seen Raph let alone talked to him, texted or called him. The last time you were able to even hang out with him was about a few weeks ago. And with work and your own life becoming busy it was getting harder and harder.

And even if you had days off you couldn't go down to the lair because for the most the day the boys would be sleeping. Their whole sleep schedule was messed up and clearly an angry and sleep deprived Raphael was not something you were willing to deal with as of right now.

After so many weeks of not seeing them, you decided to take the chance and go visit them.

You get yourself ready and take the trip to the lair. And it was a mess. You could already feel the tension between all the brothers and the lack of sleep was clearly noticable.

"Hey angelcakes." Mikey greeted as you smiled in reply, "hey MC. How is everything going?" You asked as the youngest sibling sunk lower into the couch. "We're doing great, angelcakes." He replied; sarcasm noted.

"Let me guess, Raph and Leo got into a tussle again?" You asked as he only nodded as he started to doze off. You take the venture towards the dojo where Raph was of course working out to blow off steam.

You peeked into the dojo to see Raph ramming his fists into the red punching bag. His muscles pulsed and clenched with each strike to the bag. His teeth clenched and lack of sleep framed his features.

"Raph?" You said softly as he only grunted in reply.

"Raph," you repeated as he finally looked over at you. At first he didn't want to believe it. He thought he was seeing things but once you walked over to him he knew you were real.

"(Y/n)..."

"Hey Red." You greeted as he looked down at you. "How are you doing?" You asked as he sighed, "how does it look like?" He asked as he turned back to his punching bag.

"I'm going fucking insane." He growled out as you sighed, "I know...Mikey told me..." you replied softly as he cursed under his breath. "You and Leo got into another fight?"

"He's been driving me insane. He's always on my fucking case." He cussed out as he rammed his fists harder at the punching bag.

"And these fucking Foot soldiers are non-stop and its getting annoying, they're almost as annoying as Mikey! Leo won't shut up and keeps acting like he acts like he knows everythin' and on top of that I have to deal with-ugh!" He snapped as he striked the bag once more, knocking it right off the chain and made me fly across the dojo.

Your eyes widened for a moment as you witnessed the punching bag sag to the ground. Raph was fired up now, his chest rose and fell in a fast pace, his large hands clenched into fists and his teeth gritted against eachother.

"Okay, I know we're all a bit sleep deprived and aggressive but let's be rational about this." You said softly as you gently rested a hand on his large forearm.

He took in deep and shallow breaths as he turned to look at him. "Just focus on me okay?" You added on as you used your other hand to caress his cheek.

"S-sorry.." he mumbled out as he leaned into your touch. "I know that it's been stressful. Everyone is tired and getting annoyed with this but you need to stay strong and work together." You said softly as he sighed, "it's hard to do that when I got everyone on my case.."

"I know...Leo can be stern but you gotta understand that he's also stressed out."

"I know...."

You smiled softly as you stroked your thumb against his cheek as be began to relax a bit more. "I missed you..." he barely managed out. "I missed you too." You replied as his gaze locked on yours and you smiled once more.

"How about you get some rest...it looks like you haven't slept in ages." You advised as he chuckled softly in reply, "I look that bad?"

"No, I still think you look handsome." You replied as you kissed his cheek. "You just got here though..."

"Who said I wouldn't nap with you?" You asked as he began to smile as he takes your hand in his and you both venture to his room for a 'nap'. Hey at least it unstressed him. *wink-wink-nudge-nudge*

Donnie x reader: Prompt - "If I mean nothing to you, then why do you hold me like I'm your world?"

You and Donnie have been great friends. Since the moment you and your roommate April had crossed paths with them. You were quite a nerd yourself and was always fascinated with Donnie's lab experiments and inventions.

But after many months of being close friends you had came to realization that what you were feeling towards Donnie wasn't just a friend like emotion. You liked-no loved him more than just a friend.

Donnie was the shoulder to cry on when you needed him most. The both of you supported eachother through everything. Anytime you were down he'd be at your apartment in a heartbeat as you would do the same for him. You both would spend many hours with eachother.

Either binge watching your favorite movies and or t.v shows. From making explosions in his lab, laughing, sharing good moments together or simply ranting about your problems or things that have been on your mind.

Yes your friendship with him is unbreakable but you were in love with him and he was head over heels for April.

April is great, she's nice and an amazing friend. You never had a problem with her. You two were also inseparable and sometimes you really hated the burst of emotions you had for her. You hated her for how Donnie admires her. You hated how his heart was only beating for her.

You wanted him to look at you the way he looks at her. You wanted him to see you the way you saw him. But...you can't force someone to love you...and god it hurt. It hurt alot...

It hurts how he would find a way to clear his schedule to be with April and sometimes he would hang out with her alot more than you. Maybe he didn't notice how it hurt you, maybe he did? You didn't know. But what you did know was that you couldn't deal with it any longer.

So visits to the lair became less frequent. You stayed away from the lab and half the time you would make up lame excuses of to why you couldn't come down to visit.

The brothers knew why. Hell they knew you had an insane crush on Donnie and when they realized of how you never came down to visit they knew why.

"Does our friendship mean anything to you?" Donnie asked as you turned to look at him. You were in the dojo, reading a book since the other brothers were out doing god knows what which left you and Donnie on your own in the lair.

"Does it mean anything to you?" You asked sourly as you forced yourself to continue reading but at this point the words became blurry and hard to read.

"Of course it does!"

"Oh really? Cause it doesn't seem like you do!" You snapped as you put your book away and glared at him.

"Says the one who hasn't been here in weeks!" He fired back as you rolled your eyes, "why do you care? You had April didn't you!" You spat as you hated how your voice became wobbly and weak.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"All I hear is 'oh April is so great!'. 'April is so smart! Oh April is this, oh April is that!' You make up so much time for her and nothing for me!" You yelled out as Donnie was speechless for words.

"That's-that's not true!"

"Yes it is! You treat her better than me! And then I'm left for seconds?! How is that fair on me!" You cried out as the tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Who has helped you in the lab? Me! Who has been there for you when you needed someone? Me! I thought I was your best friend, and then when April comes along I mean nothing to you!" You added on as Donnie's eyes dimmed.

You sniffled, trying to contain the sob from escaping you. "But I tried. I tried so hard to role with it because I love you..." you choked out.

His golden eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh. "I have loved you for so long and the fact that I still do-" you forced yourself to stop yourself as you shake your head.

"(Y/n) I-"

"I'm done." You forced out, not wanting to hear another word. You run past him only to have him grab your arm, "(Y/n), wait!"

You looked up at him, anger and betrayal filled your eyes as the tears swam in your (e/c) eyes, the warm tears streamed down your cheeks.

His own eyes grew misty as they filled with sadness and something else that you couldn't figure it out but at this point you didn't care.

"Let me ask you this." You forced out as your breathing became shallow as each word that escaped your mouth wobbled and trembled. "If I mean nothing to you, then why do you hold me like I'm your world?" You asked as Donnie's eyes widened for a moment before they dimmed once again.

You worked down the hard swallow and his hand released your arm and you nearly broke into tears right in front of him.

You stepped away from him and ran out of the dojo. The sob finally breaks out of you and god you wished...you really wished he had chased after you. That he would beg you not to go and hold you so close and never let you go but...

But that never happened and god it hurt. It hurt you so much...

Not every story has to end with a happy ending. Things happen and people change. And though the truth can sometimes hurt you, it also gives you the ability to heal.

And that takes time. It takes time to heal and it takes strength in order to move forward. And with that comes struggle but struggle become an allie as we take that struggle and learn from it.

And eventually we become stronger and are able to get back up and finally heal. Yes it will take time, it will hurt for some time but if there is one thing I know dear reader is that we cannot let the past hold onto us. We cannot let the pain take hold and drag us into the deep.

Past will be a distant memory and we can learn from it...

And as the long time saying goes, when one door closes...

Another opens...

☆▪︎End▪︎☆

Okay so we got fluff and shit tone of angst...I hope you enjoyed the imagine guys and I'm deeply sorry if I dampened anyone's mood. TSYM FOR REQUESTING LOVE!

83 notes · View notes

hillnerd · 5 years

Note

Do you have any headcanons on what would have happened if hermione said yes when Ron asked her to the Yule ball?

Sorry this one took so long. I just was not immediately able to sit down and think this out. I was just stumped for a while. :P In this scenario she would have to have not been asked out by Nev or Krum yet- leaving her wide open for Ron’s ask.

The Yule Ball was quick approaching, and no one had asked Hermione as a date yet. She wasn’t entirely surprised, as she’d not exactly garnered a lot of attention like other girls. She was no Fleur Delacour. She did her best to not let this bother her, though. She was quite busy with her studies, thank you very much. That’s what they were all in school for! Not romance, and definitely not some silly ball.

Dinner had been a lonely affair, with both Harry and Ron missing. It was just as well, she was still getting used to her new teeth and was a bit sloppier than usual as she ate her meal. She hadn’t ever indulged in much of the shallower things in life, but couldn’t help running her tongue over her now very even teeth and feel a satisfied smile warm her all the way to the common room.

She found Ron and Harry sitting by the fireplace with Ginny, both looking rather glum.

“Why weren’t you two at dinner?”

“They’ve both been turned down by the girls they asked to the Yule Ball.”

“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” said Ron sourly.

“All the good-looking one taken, Ron?” said Hermione loftily, thinking back to his comments about avoiding going to the ball with a troll. “Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you.”

Ron didn’t give a retort. Instead gave her a long hard look, as if working out some sort of problem, before his eyebrows lifted into his fringe.

“Hermione… You’re a girl!”

“Oh well spotted!” She wanted to punch him. She really did. Right on his long freckled nose.

“Well– you can come to the ball with one of us!”

Hermione wasn’t sure how to react. She had, in her most private of thoughts, hoped she’d get to go to the ball with someone. She had considered putting forth the idea to Ron, but didn’t dare do the humiliating task herself. For once she had wanted one of those silly traditional boy-girl teenage moments for herself- and to be asked out by a boy– but now, presented like this, it felt a bit hollow.

“I… I suppose that makes sense… Who would go with who?” she said, looking between Harry and Ron. She wanted Ron to chose her, and bit her lip in to hold herself back from impatiently claiming Ron for herself.

“You can come with me,” Ron said with a smile, not seeming to see the significance of this at all. Did he not care at all?

“Who says I want to go with you?” she let out. “Just because you finally realized I’m a girl, doesn’t mean I now owe you a date!”

“You can go with Harry if you like,” he said, brows furrowing as he looked between them. Harry was looking on with wide eyes and holding up his hands as he usually did when he sensed tension between them.

“It’s just the principal of it,” Hermione said, crossing her arms. “One person asks another out, not… not just randomly assigning a girl to be a date out of convenience to whoever is sitting there.”

Ron sat there looking at her for a moment looking like he might begin arguing, but he surprised her by smiling at her.

“Okay okay, Hermione Granger, will you, a girl, go with me, a boy, to the ball. That do? Will you come now?”

She could feel her cheeks begin to flush.

“Well… Well alright then. Since you asked properly.”

“Great!” he said with an easy smile. “I can go with Hermione, and Ginny you can go with Harry.”

Ginny blushed down to her roots, and looked away from them all.

“Alright then? We all have dates?” Ron asked the group.

They all nodded.

It wasn’t the ask Hermione would have wanted or planned on- but she had been asked out to a ball, and it had been Ron who did it.

Balls were just about the most barmy thing Ron could think of. Everyone had to spend loads on dress robes, a bunch of teens had to ask each other out on dates, and then they’d have to dance in front of everyone else. It sounded like just about the worst time in the world. At least he had a date, though. And it was Hermione, so he didn’t have to make smalltalk with some random girl or have an ugly date. He’d have a pretty date who quite liked. That worked out better than he could have hoped.

She and Ginny had scarpered off after a long snowball fight, saying they needed three hours to get ready for the ball. Three hours seemed an awfully long time to just put on a dress- but Ron probably should have spent more time himself, now that he looked at his own depressing robes. He’d tried a severing charm on the frills- but it didn’t do much to make the robes look less awful.

He glumly sat in a chair waiting for Hermione, when Ginny walked down the stairs looking very nice. She was wearing some old robes of Mum’s though, so even though they were dated, they weren’t as worn and crap as his own.

He hadn’t really meant to do it, but he’d paired Ginny up on a date with her crush pretty well, actually. Ginny was going to make out of this ball better off than most of the teens.

“You look nice,” Harry told Ginny, and she went scarlet but thanked him. Harry then turned to Ron. “Want us to wait with you for Hermione?”

“Naw, meet you down at the ball in a bit.” Ron wanted to put off people seeing his awful robes as long as possible.

The common room wasn’t much better since it was crowded- but at least it was just fellow Gryffindors. The common room was a wash of colors, instead of the usual black robes, and someone with floaty blue robes was standing awfully close to him.

“Ready to go down?”

He looked up and saw the robes were Hermione’s. She was always pretty, but right now she was looking girlish and pretty in a way he’d never seen before. She was standing tall, smiling down at him with an air of confidence and he found his mouth had gone dry. A few people in the common room were staring at her as well, but Ron had to smile, because she wasn’t any of their dates. She was his date.

“Yeah, let’s go down!” he said with enthusiasm. Thoughts of his own tattered robes were quite replaced having her at his side like this. She looked like one of the women from a fairy tale book. Her hair was sleek, which he didn’t like as much, but other than that she was a vision, really.

“You look…” Beautiful. Gorgeous. Pretty. “Really good.”

“Thank you,” she smiled prettily at him.

Ron felt a sort of jittery energy taking hold of him. There was nothing to be nervous about, as it was just Hermione. Maybe he was just hungry.

“Sorry about… About my robes and all… You look great, and I–” Ron couldn’t finish his sentence.

“You look fine,” she said, though they both knew it was a lie. “Maybe I can transfigure it a bit? I’m not great with these sorts of spells, but Parvarti and Lavender helped me a bit taking in my robes and I think I remember the spells.”

“Uh, alright then.”

She did a few spells, and it made his robes look less tattered, then she did a color switching spell to make the robes all the same dark navy color. It helped hide the horrible design of it having it be dark like this.

“Brilliant!” he smiled, doing his best to look at it all in the hallway they were in.

“I know you don’t like maroon,” she said with a shrug.

“I’m glad I can look better for you,” he said, then wanted to curse as his ears burned.

The Entrance Hall was packed with students waiting for the doors to the ball to be thrown open, but they found Harry and Ginny quick enough. Hermione was quite pleased to she and Harry were actually talking on their own. Ginny had always been rather tongue tied around Harry due to her crush, but perhaps she could make headway on that tonight.

They both made surprised smiles at Ron’s changed robes, which made Hermione happy, but not nearly as happy as the chuffed look on Ron’s face.

They entered the ball, and a ton of people started looking at them. At first she thought it might be because they were with Harry, or because Ron’s eyes were quite striking when he wore blue, but surprisingly a lot of people were staring at her agog.

“Do I have something in my teeth?” she asked Ron.

“Wha?” he looked closely. “No.”

“Hmmm…”

“Why?”

“A lot of people were looking at me.”

“It’s because you look so… fancy” Ron said, before turning pink for about the third time that evening and looking away from her. She was sure she was almost as pink as they found a table.

Ron had never been so awkward around Hermione in his life. He couldn’t seem to get out a conversation with her. Maybe it was because she looked so un-Hermione-ish. She didn’t have her usual wild curls bouncing about her face, and was wearing robes that clung to her and very much made it clear she was a girl. There was no ignoring that now.

Food was what he needed. Lots of food and butterbeer. The slightly polite stilted conversation began to relax as the two of them ate and people watched together, and by the end of the meal the two of them were at ease with each other again.

The Weird Sisters came out, and Harry and the other Champions took to the dance floor with their dates. After a moment other couples began to join them. Other couple from their table made their way to dance as well, leaving just Ron.

Hermione was looking nervously at the dance floor, but hadn’t said anything.

“Would you like to–” he said, nodding to the dance floor.

She smiled. “Only if you want to.”

In truth Ron had little interest in slow dancing, but it wouldn’t do to tell her that. Plus it seemed a shame to have her sitting it out when she had gone to all that trouble to look so elegant.

“Yeah. Yeah, let’s have a dance.”

The slow dance gave way to some fast ones, and Ron found he liked dancing with Hermione much more than he he’d ever anticipated. He even spotted Harry dancing a lot with Ginny, which was probably one of the more awkward things he’d witnessed.

The evening went on- and by the end of it they were all flushed and happy, and made their way to bed.

Harry and Ginny went up their respective dorms, leaving Ron and Hermione downstairs next to the fire.

“I had a good time,” Hermione said with a bright smile.

“Yeah, me too!” Ron was happy to say.

“Well, goodnight,” Hermione said, standing on her tiptoes and giving Ron a quick peck on the cheek, before scuttling up to her dormitory.

His stomach swooped and spent a good ten minutes standing there. He was surprised. Maybe dances weren’t as barmy as he’d thought. With that he went to bed, dreams a bit full of floaty periwinkle fabric, twinkling brown eyes and bright smiles.

#headcanon #fanfic #yule ball #au #romione #hinny (if you squint)#goblet of fire #hillnerd writing #Anonymous

88 notes · View notes

animakupo · 6 years

Text

In the Eye of the Beholder (Prompto x Reader)

hey waddup it me, was supposed to post this yesterday but a lot of family stuff happened this weekend that i hadta prioritize

This one’s a little special to me because I’m a photography enthusiast myself who Doesn’t Think They’re Good Enough™ so I really wanted to do something that was a little photography-themed.

Originally, this sat at about 2.4k words, but I bumped it up to around 3k because the development between Rea and Prom felt a bit lacking to me.

ANYWAY I LOVE PROMPTO ALWAYS!!!!! TIME 2 WORK ON THOSE REQUESTS NOW!!!!!

word count: 3.1k, NOTHING BUT FLUFF FOR MY PRESIDENT PROMPTO

There was something so therapeutic about the sound of the camera shutter. What wasn’t so therapeutic, however, was how none of your photos were turning out the way you wanted them to. You had spent all afternoon going from top to bottom around Galdin Quay, and still, the photos you had captured all left an unsatisfactory taste in your mouth.

You heaved a sigh as the beginnings of nighttime began to trickle into the sky’s orange hues. Another day, another struggle to capture any winner material.

The thought of the impending time limit that was looming over your shoulder just made your stomach queasy with unease. ‘If I don’t get anything good soon, then that Prompto’s going to take First Place again.’

The Galdin Quay Snapshot Contest was something that was commemorated at the Mother of Pearl every few months or so. It had taken you a full year to even work up the courage and send in an entry, as showcasing your work to the general public seemed more daunting to you than having to tackle a Catoblepas.

Not that you were even capable of facing off against a Catoblepas.

On your first attempt at the contest, you hadn’t even made the cut. It was incredibly discouraging for you, this being your first photography contest and all, but your friends and family urged you to persevere. And so, you gave in to their support.

Your second attempt proved to be more fruitful, as you at least managed to garner an honorable mention. From there, your placings in the Galdin Quay Snapshot Contest ranged from Second Runner-up to Crowd Favorite. The highest accolade you had ever reached was Second Place.

The coveted First Place had always eluded you, though.

You had thought that, in your most recent attempt at the photo contest, you were going to bag First Place for sure — except a newcomer dashed all your hopes with their very first appearance in the contest.

You didn’t know who he was, but the name Prompto Argentum has haunted you since he first swiped sweet victory from your hands.

Although you were slightly (okay, very) bitter about remaining in Second Place yet again, you couldn’t deny that this Prompto person really had an eye for pleasing aesthetics. With “Anything Under the Sun” being the previous theme for the contest, he had managed to perfectly capture the shadows cast by palm trees over a sleeping canine that lounged amongst the sands.

While you didn’t admit it out loud, his picture had definitely blown your generic sunset picture out of the water.

“Hey there, (Name)!” greeted Coctura once you reached her little station in the middle of the Mother of Pearl. “Got any good shots today?”

You slumped over the bar surface defeatedly. “Not at all. I’m never going to win First Place at this rate, Coctura.” You peeked up at her from your crumpled form. “Not with that Prompto always getting the spotlight.”

Coctura gave you a sympathetic smile as she plated another dish for one of her patrons. “There, there, (Name). I’m sure you’ll come up with something genius eventually! Your photos are really good!”

“But not good enough!”

“You still have a couple of months to go until the next deadline,” she reminded you. “Plus, Prompto might not even join this time.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shrugged, though the glint in her eye suggested that she knew a bit more than she let on. “He’s not in the area very often. For all you know, he might even miss the deadline altogether!”

“I sure hope that’ll be the case,” you grumbled sourly. “That guy is really good, so I don’t stand a chance if he’s in the running.”

“You do too have a chance! Don’t lose hope, (Name).”

‘Yeah, don’t lose hope that maybe Prompto won’t join the contest this time around.’

Unfortunately for you, your hopes were dashed with the appearance of four young men at Coctura’s station the very next day.

You hovered a bit behind them, not wanting to intrude on their conversation with the chef. Your smoothie could wait until they were done, and in the meantime, you could-

“(Name)! There you are!” Coctura called, gesturing for you with a wave of her hand.

The four men turned to you, causing you to wilt under their gaze. ‘Really, Coctura? You couldn’t have used a more indoor voice?’ You kept your head down as you approached her, not wanting to attract any more attention from the strangers around you.

“Good morning,” you greeted quietly, still fidgeting a bit at the questioning looks sent in your direction.

“This is the girl I was telling you about, Prompto,” she said, turning to the blond who was incidentally right next to you.

Your heart thundered against your chest at the mention of his name. Prompto? The Prompto Argentum?

“So this is the famous (Name) (Surname) we’ve been hearing about,” commented the biggest one of the group. You glanced at him, your interest piqued at the sight of the tattoos peeking from his sleeves.

“I-I’m not famous-“

“You are in our circles,” said the one with dark hair. He gave a smirk to his blond friend. “Prompto here never stops talking about you.”

“N-Noct!” Prompto exclaimed, reaching out to whack his friend on the head.

You turned to Prompto then, finally getting a good look at your unofficial rival in photography. He was looking pretty flustered thanks to the light teasing from his comrades. The redness of his cheeks only made the freckles scattered across his face all the more prominent, and the vibrancy of his eyes were a striking contrast to his blond hair. Which, come to think of it, reminded you of a-

“Chocobo,” you blurted, eyes still trained on Prompto’s hair. “You look like a Chocobo.”

This brought about a round of laughs from everyone — even the stiff-looking one with glasses. It was only when Prompto began sputtering about how his hair “does not look like a Chocobo butt!” did you realize what you had just said.

“I’m sorry!” you shrieked as the embarrassment of your actions began to settle in. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way! I just- You-“

“Don’t worry about it.” The dark-haired one — ‘Noct,’ you presumed — placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “We all secretly think Prompto’s half-Chocobo anyway.”

Prompto grew exasperated. “Noct?!”

The tall, bespectacled one nodded. “I’m surprised our feathered friends at Wiz’s have yet to stake their claim on our dear Prompto.”

“Not you too, Iggy!”

The tattooed beefcake dropped his voice as he stepped closer to you and added, “Between you and me, I think I’ve even seen the kid lay an egg our two at camp.”

“GLADIO!”

You couldn’t help it. The bantering amongst the friends burst open the bubble of giggles that had been building up in your throat. Once your laughter died down, everyone was looking at you with matching grins. Their attention made you blush, but it was the way Prompto was looking at you so earnestly that made you keep your gaze on the floor.

It was a few seconds of awkward silence before Prompto cleared his throat. “U-Um!” he squeaked, extending a gloved hand for you to shake. “I’m Prompto. I’m a big fan of your pictures!”

All form of decorum was thrown out the window at his declaration. Your mother had always stressed how rude it was to stare at people so blatantly, but that was exactly what you did with Prompto.

Your gaze went back and forth between his hand — which was still waiting for a shake of reciprocation — and his smiling face, which slowly began to waver the longer you gaped at him. The way your mouth fell open probably made you look incredibly crass, but that wasn’t even registering in your mind at the moment.

What was registering was the fact that Prompto — Prompto Argentum, the one who pretty much bested you at photography — was actually a fan of your work?

“Are… are you kidding me right now?!” you blubbered, still confused as to how to digest this seemingly major revelation.

“N-No…?” Prompto faltered at your reaction as the crimson hue on his cheeks intensified. “Am I… not allowed to like them…?”

“No! I mean, you are! I mean-!” You internally groaned at how poorly you were taking this. “Sorry, I just… I find it a little hard to believe that you like any of my photos.”

“What-”

Prompto was interrupted by Coctura’s chipper voice. “You best believe Prompto here is a fan of your photography, (Name)! He always tells me how your entries should’ve been at the top whenever results for the Snapshot Contest would roll in.”

“Coctura!” Prompto whined, the redness on his face spreading to the tips of his ears now. “Why is everybody dead set on exposing me today?”

“Well then.” The one with glasses — ‘Iggy,’ was it? — cleared his throat as he pushed his glasses against his face. “I believe these two shutterbugs would like to discuss their photography endeavors together.” He turned to his other two companions, Noct and the one referred to as Gladio. “Do either of you fancy a fishing session?”

“You know I do,” Noct answered, already leading the way towards the fishing area.

“Have fun, kid.” Gladio playfully slapped Prompto on the back and gave him a wink. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do...” you heard Prompto mutter under his breath.

Once the three disappeared, Coctura turned away as she entertained another patron at the restaurant. This left you and Prompto to your own devices.

Feeling a little shy all of a sudden, you began to shuffle restlessly, playing with a stray thread on your shirt. You stole glances at Prompto, taking in his entire appearance. His freckles were undeniably an endearing feature of his, and though his body was lanky, you definitely appreciated how toned his arms seemed to be.

You had never imagined that Prompto Argentum would be such a cutie in the flesh.

“So…” you trailed off, unsure about how to really act around him. “You take pictures too, huh?”

This appeared to be the correct choice of words, as Prompto immediately brightened at the mention of photography. “Yeah! I’m no professional like you are, but it’s something I really enjoy.”

You eyed him quizzically. “Professional? Oh, no, you’re mistaken. I’m no pro at all.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope.”

“Wooow~” He whistled lowly, eyes seemingly sparkling in admiration for you. It made you fluster. “With how amazing your shots always are, I had always thought that you were a pro! Actually…” His smile turned bashful as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “You were the one who inspired me to join the Galdin Quay Snapshot Contest to begin with.”

“Me?” You had to stop yourself from scoffing at the very suggestion that you had inspired anyone — let alone a skillful photographer like Prompto — to join the photo contest. Sure, you were good enough to place in the festivities, but to actually be the very reason why someone else had joined? That was definitely hard to comprehend.

“Uh-huh,” he affirmed. “I’ve always wondered why the judges still haven’t given you First Place. Your pictures are amazing!”

You were unused to such praise, especially coming from a fellow enthusiast — one who had bested you in the field, even. “Th-thanks.”

“I was really shocked when they gave me First Place during the last round, to be honest. If anything, you definitely deserved the top spot more than any of us.”

“No way!” you denied vehemently. Even if Prompto stirred some bitter feelings and self-doubt in your craft, his photography — at least from what you had seen from his last entry in the contest — was definitely top notch and in a league of its own. “I mean, I wanted to win and all, but the judges were definitely right in giving you First Place.”

“Y’think so?”

You nodded. “I know so.” Your lips lifted into a small smile as you finally offered your own hand to him. “I’m (Name).”

“(Name),” Prompto repeated, shaking your hand in a firm grip. “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Likewise.” His friendly demeanor and happy-go-lucky nature was contagious. You couldn’t help but smile around him. “So what camera do you use?”

Prompto whipped out the device in question. “I use a Lokton X-T20.”

“Ooh, I see you’ve got good taste.” You pulled out your own camera and presented it to your new acquaintance. “I’ve been eyeing the X-T20 for a while now, but my A-1 still hasn’t let me down yet, so I haven’t really bothered replacing it.”

“See, you’re even more amazing than I thought!”

Man, he really didn’t hold back on the compliments, huh? “What do you mean?”

“It’s not the camera that makes the photographer,” Prompto explained. “The fact that you can take such beautiful pictures without the most top of the line equipment just shows how skilled you are!”

“Gee, I never really thought of it that way,” your murmured timidly, feeling your heart swell with appreciation for Prompto. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” You were certain that not even the sun could rival how bright Prompto’s smile was. “Anyway, I was hoping I could ask you how you managed to take that shot with the waves from that one entry of yours.”

You paused, trying to recall what he was referring to. “Oh, you mean the one at nighttime with the Mother of Pearl’s lights in the background?”

“That’s the one!” His eyes widened in excitement. “Will you teach me how you took it?”

Prompto’s eagerness to simply learn and improve on his skills melted away the icy blockade of bitterness you initially held towards him. “Sure. I can show you how I did it tonight, if you’d like?”

His enthusiasm reminded you of an energetic puppy being reunited with its human. “Would you really?”

“Of course.”

The two of you made arrangements to meet up later in the evening, with the promise of a hearty meal before your photography session. Unbeknownst to you, this would become the first of many picture-taking sessions with Prompto, who would not only garner your friendship, he would also — albeit unknowingly — capture your affections as your relationship developed.

Though you didn’t get to see Prompto all that often — as he traveled around with his friends a lot — whenever he did drop by Galdin Quay, he always made it a point to hang out with you without fail. Being his only other photographer friend, Prompto was always adamant that the two of you take pictures and share critique whenever you were together.

Of course, being such avid fans of each other, neither of you really managed to offer anything substantial other than gushes of praise and mutual squealing. Still, it was something.

Your time spent together was not limited to photography excursions, either. Sometimes, Prompto would shoot you a text whenever he was in the area simply to catch dinner together. In other instances, it was to take a stroll on the beach. Such activities were blatantly romantic in nature, but neither of you really discussed such a possibility in your friendship, too comfortable with what you already had between the two of you.

What you didn’t know was that Prompto’s friends would always egg him on whenever they dropped by Galdin Quay. They at least spared him once you were within earshot, but they were pretty much relentless during their car rides together.

On your end, there was Coctura who continued to push you in order to ask Prompto out. Despite her attempts, you were simply much too shy and insecure to even entertain the idea of exploring anything that wasn’t platonic with Prompto.

That wasn’t to say that you didn’t like the idea, because you did. You definitely, definitely did.

“This is so nice, Prom!” you raved at yet another one of his spectacular shots. Scrolling to the next picture on his camera, you cheered excitedly and pointed towards the device’s screen. “I love this one!”

“Me too!” he responded just as happily, that sunny smile of his shining even brighter at your compliments. “It’s one of my faves.”

The two of you were lazing by the shores of Galdin Quay, the soft setting sun acting as your backdrop. Maybe it was the photographer in you, but you couldn’t help but become enamoured by how gorgeous Prompto looked with the hazy lightning of the sunset surrounding him.

“You know,” you said, turning away from him to gaze at the glowing waters with the gentlest of smiles, “you’re really beautiful.”

The only response you got was the familiar noise of a camera shutter. The sound broke you out of your reverie, prompting you to turn your head towards your companion and look at him questioningly.

Prompto lowered the the camera from his face and peered sheepishly at you. “Sorry, I just had to. The lighting was perfect.”

You huffed. “You know I hate getting my picture taken, Prom. That’s why I’m always behind the camera.”

“You should be in front of the lens more often, though.” Everything about Prompto at that moment was so soft. His voice was quiet, his eyes were gentle, and his smile was so, so tender.

It was as if he was falling in love with you right then and there.

You couldn’t help but blush under his sweet gaze. “Yeah, well… so do you.”

The rhythm of the waves kissing the shore was brought to the fore as your conversation faded away. The silence was comforting and warm as the growing feelings you held for one another simmered under the protection of your respective secrecies.

The sunset had dwindled into dusk when Prompto broke through the quiet. “You’re… you’re really pretty too, (Name).” He wasn’t looking at you then, but had your eyes met, you would have found infatuation and fondness in his eyes.

The two of you admired the remnants of sundown, though you huddled together just a little bit closer, your pinkies linked together in the sand.

When the results for the next round of Galdin Quay’s photo contest came in, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be even remotely bothered by the fact that you placed second next to Prompto yet again.

Especially not when his winning entry was a candid photo of you from that time you basked in each other’s presence at twilight.

Galdin Quay Snapshot Contest - Round 15

1st Place: PROMPTO ARGENTUM

Theme: The Most Beautiful Treasure in Eos

*Special Message: “Will you be mine, (Name)?”

143 notes · View notes

jotawakening-blog · 7 years

Text

12 Septober, 5A 169: Above and Below

So after spending all that time in the library, I think it’s high time I completed my tour of the city… and gave Wadud his trinket back. So I go down to the docks, which have the sheen of prosperity about them still, even with the pall that’s settled on Menaphos. I spend some time walking around the waterfront, admiring the sleek Menaphite craft— they’re quite a bit more advanced than the ones used by the sailors of Sarim, or so they seem at least— I’m not worth much as a sailor— and observe the curious spectacle of a staring match between a crab and a scarab. I also talk to some of the local, including a fishmonger who’s got some interesting catches endemic to the region on display, and someone busy herding… plovers? But why? It seems like such a random thing to do! She tells me I could go down to Sophanem to learn the art myself, but the suggestion somehow doesn’t strike my fancy. Still, next time I am in Sophanem, I’ll keep my ears open.

Once I’ve seen the waterfront to my satisfaction, I turn inland and go into the maze of modest homes that make up the harbour district. The trades represented here are workaday ones connected with the sea traffic: weavers, blacksmiths, and the like. The guy manning the smithy is more communicative than most of the close-lipped locals, and lets me in on a secret: in his view at least, the master blacksmith is going crazy, talking about anvils disappearing when they’re clearly still there. Hm, that’s strange. Wonder if there’s any truth to it— maybe Ozan has a hand in the vanishing anvils? Or Wadud’s thieves?

Out behind some warehouses, near Wadud’s tavern, I run into a guy with the tongue-twisting name of Henutemipet. He strikes me as a bit suspicious (not that it’s really my business), but he turns out to be quite friendly (which is why I know his name). He tells me he’s in charge of laying the dead to rest in their tombs: a responsible position, and a contemplative one. Rather like a gravedigger-cum-pallbearer, but the customs around death are much different here, of course.

Having wandered around the district to my satisfaction, I turn toward Wadud’s inn, the Golden Scarab. It’s still early in the day, so there aren’t many drunks around— just one, really, who troubles to tell me that the wheat beer and imported spirits from the Eastern Lands served here are without compare. To my surprise, there’s already a musician performing inside— or, more likely, just practicing, since her song has seriously subversive undertones. On the face of it, it is a religious hymn, telling of the two children of Elidinis and Tumeken, Amascut and Icthlarin. Icthlarin, of course, was and is tasked with guiding the dead to the underworld. (One wonders: all dead— or just the Menaphite dead?) The tale of Amascut, at least in this telling, is more complex. Apparently, her role was protecting the living, or ‘delivering them from death to life with prayer’, whatever that means. According to the song, she was corrupted by the Mahjarrat (!) and turned by them to madness and destruction. The song blames her for Menaphos’ recent misfortunes, and calls out for a liberator to come forth and free the city from her influence… which is consistent with what I know of her and her plans, but for it to be said openly, like this? That musician has got an incredible amount of guts.

Especially since ‘Admiral’ Wadud, pirate and flunky of the Pharaoh, is right there. But he doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps he likes the feeling of power that defying the Pharaoh by having the singer in his establishment gives him; I don’t know. Anyway, he’s looking at me mighty sourly, so I go ahead and return the precious trinket the Jack of Spades lifted off of him. Though the pirate is none too pleased that the Jack got away, he does thank me for returning his property, then goes back to business, making it clear he’s willing to give me no more of his time. Oh, very well, then.

Rather than report straight back to Grand Vizier Hassan, I spend some time dallying around the harbour area, especially around the far side, where I haven’t yet been. The buildings there turn out to be all warehouses and wharves; the people, workmen and sailors, including an inept carpenter who keeps hitting this thumb with his hammer and a scarred captain who lets me know that all but two of the old wounds on his body were inflicted by his wife! What does he do to piss her off, I wonder? And then, of course, there are the sailors, who hail from all over the world. There’s the crew of a massive junk from the Eastern Isles, dressed in splendid local garb, who even have a siren as their travelling companion! I ask her if she knew Remora, but she doesn’t seem to. On the other hand, there are also folk from the three western kingdoms, who have docked hoping to gain entry to the city but have been denied further passage by the guards. I talk to three of them: a hunter of strykewyrms who has a side gig going hunting Kalphites; an entomologist from the Varrock museum; and a nondescript but slightly shady guy whose name escapes me.

The docks slightly further along have a more reputable air around them, and are lined by what look to be the homes of sailor-folk. Most of them are busily going about their lives, but there is one who stands out by dint of being a talented singer. The song he sings is a shanty, boastfully telling the tale of voyages to the east, and criticising Admiral Wadud for his increasing loss of authority among his sailors and crews, as well as the dishonourable ways of some of the more recent captains. The ships sailing from this area are all Menaphite craft, and include a river-boat crewed by a man named Kags who is happy to offer me free transportation up the Elid (maybe Ozan told him I could use some free transport, I don’t know!), as well as a merchant liner that takes passengers, too… albeit for a steep price.

Okay, so now I’ve really been all over Menaphos. I think it’s time I checked in with Hassan and made sure the diplomatic talks are going along OK. But it turns out I needn’t have worried: Hassan is happy that I’ve managed to make a bit of a name for myself around the city in clearing up some of the Jack of Spades’ chaos, and assures me that the negotiations have gotten off to a good start. If I’m needed, he says, he will send for me. Ehsan adds that she would like me to feel at home in Menaphos, and sends an aide down to the city’s market hall to ensure that I get full access to the trading facilities. Sounds good!

Up in my room, I find a note, addressed to me, and signed, not unexpectedly J. It reads: ‘Meet me at the previous place when you get this. Have got something to show you.’ There’s only one place it can mean, really, the Workers’ District entrance to the tombs beneath the city. Sure enough, I find Ozan waiting for me there. It seems that his purpose in bringing me here was to tell me a bit more about the tombs under the city, now that I’m more at liberty to be sneaking around. So, in a nutshell: Menaphos is situated atop the tombs of the long-dead pharaohs, courtiers and ordinary people who have lived and died here throughout the Ages. These tombs contain much gold and riches that could be used to aid the Menaphites in their struggle against Amascut, but these are, of course, protected by traps, by combination locks, by ancient magic, and less obviously by some mysterious corruption that Amascut has brought into the place. As such, one needs to be quick about one’s business in the tombs (there is a spell that teleports would-be raiders out if they stay too long) and always mindful of danger and death. There is an extra complication: some of the magic down there makes tunnels and chambers connect and re-connect at random as a further deterrent to thieves, making it nearly impossible to predict where one will end up.

There is some good news, though: the corruption can be warded off by breaking into the urns of ancient Menaphites and drawing on the magical energies contained within the burial vessels. That sounds… unethical, but Ozan is the Kharidian here, so if he thinks it’s okay, I guess I can give it a try as well. Also, fighting the corruption will gain me favour with one of the lesser Menaphite gods, if I commune with them before venturing down, and the gods are known to impart their wisdom to those who do so consecrate themselves.

Well, the tombs sound like a pretty dangerous place, and I’m not at all feeling up to exploring them right this instant, but Ozan’s lecture, coming as it did from an expert tomb raider, was very instructive all the same. There are so many aspects of dungeon design, trap avoidance, and so forth that I’ve never even thought of, really, until now!

But that’s not all Ozan wanted to tell me. There is one more thing, and it is that some friends of his are holding a bit of a subversive concert at the Golden Scarab, under the protection of Admiral Wadud. It’s starting pretty soon, actually, taking advantage of the lessened guard presence before evening, so I hustle through the upper passages of the tombs to the port district and settle in at the pub with a glass of wheat beer for what promises to be an exciting show.

Two songs in particular stand out. One, sung by the same musician I saw practicing earlier in the day, is a variant on the song of Amascut she sang for me, but with the words changed to honour the Jack of Spades, whom she deems the future liberator of Menaphos— and it’s definitely a role I can see Ozan pulling off. The other one is sung by a woman dressed in the garb of the workers’ district, and is placid on the surface but simmers with rage just beneath at the Pharaoh’s misrule and alienation from the common folk of the city. She is especially livid at the current Pharaoh’s usurpation of his predecessor and his fomenting of war with Al-Kharid during the last outbreak of hostilities ten years ago, and also hopes that a hero will come to deliver the city from the tyrant. A decided counterpoint to these stirring songs is the drink that’s also served at the pub, alongside regular beer. It’s called ‘squeck juice’, or ’squecks on the beach’, and is an inky black substance that tastes just as bad as it looks. I take a sip and spit out the rest, because it sure as hell isn’t worth the ten coins I paid for it!

On that note (pardon the pun), the concert ends, and with it my last reason for sticking around Menaphos for much longer. The myriad of other strands of intrigue I’ve gotten myself tangled in cry out for my attention, which means I should return to Al-Kharid and debrief. The fastest way to do that would be to use my broomstick (which I still have on me, in fact!) to teleport there through the Sorceress’ Garden, so I do that and, once there, go to the palace to speak with Osman and the Emir. Both are glad that negotiations are going well (though Osman is a good deal more cynical about their prospects for success than the young Emir!), and Osman thanks me for the information I give him about the state of affairs in the southern capital.

But since there’s nothing to be done now but wait for negotiations to run their course, I’ve got nothing further detaining me in the desert and decide it’s time to move on. Not so fast, though: my way out of the city takes me past Ali Morrisane’s stall, and I stop by to see how the merchant is doing. Expecting maybe a sales pitch at most, I’m surprised when he offers me another job! He tells me he’s been trying to corner even more of the local market, but has gotten pushback from the local merchants, who, he thinks, are working together to block his efforts. Or they don’t trust a Pollnivnean— the upshot is that he can’t get the new suppliers he wants. Which is where I come in: my mission, should I choose to accept it, would be to travel down to Sophanem and negotiate a contract with a merchant named Siamun for local goods that Ali could resell to the people of Al-Kharid at a profit. Hm— well, since I’m one of the only people let in or out of Sophanem at present, and since getting their goods out of the plague zone would benefit the locals even more than it would Ali, I think I can help with that, detour though it is. In addition, there’s a guy in Pollnivneach selling blackjacks that Ali sees a market for up here in the north supposing we could improve the quality of the product, so if I could arrange something with him, he would appreciate that as well. Finally, Ali wants in on a market nobody in the desert has managed to successfully manage yet: runestones. He suggests that I approach Aubury, in Varrock, with a proposal to form a rune cartel, splitting the market in the Misthalin-Desert region at the expense of competitors further afield.

There’s one question that’s unanswered: what do I get out of this? Ali isn’t forthcoming with any promised rewards at first, so it takes a fair bit of haggling. But. Eventually, he does agree to give me a deep discount on his magic carpet service in exchange for my help, and, to sweeten the deal, even hands me a pouch of some 600 coins right now. I guess that means we’re in agreement. I can get started as soon as I’ve gotten some rest.

I spend the rest of the day— which isn’t much of it, really— organising the books I spirited out of the Menaphos library and getting my supplies in order for this next, unexpected venture into the desert. I don’t know what it is about this place, but it’s really sucked me in!

#runescape #journal #roleplay #shifting tombs #menaphos

0 notes