#ambereyed-mountain-prince

[busterstrouble]

flannel is the color of my energy - playlist

Buster to Ren

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

FITCOME is a playlist for: that feeling when you want to turn the music volume on max and rage. Hearing the hardcore breakdown of a guitar riff. Yelling at the top of your lungs in an open field. Flannel is the color of my energy is for the angst, the energy, the memories, and the background music you pick as your walk out song.

🎸 Enemy of the World - Four Year Strong

if you drop the bomb then I’ll pick it up. The song opens up with group acapella and a drum solo. Instant goosebumps. The theme tends to be team work but also ones true self worth. The battle with one’s self. You can’t help but air drumming as the song picks up. (Favorite Band of ALL time)

🎸 Came Out Swinging - The Wonder Years

my mind is made up, there’s going to be trouble. Everyone has had an end to a relationship and everyone has had a hard time. This song is the epitome of both. The pop punk double bass picks up and gives some great breakdowns.

🎸 High Regard - A Story So Far

you don’t deserve what you haven’t earned. When you have to cut off ties with someone and you have the one sided argument with yourself in the sjower…that is what this song embodies. Driving with this song on high volume and using the steering wheel as a drum.

🎸 Mind Your Business - Sunami

self important pricks learn your fucking lesson. Hardcore. From start to finish this sound is what fuels a hype up scenario. When you feel wronged or when someone turns on you…this song and the break downs make a scowl appear on your face and you vibe. (Very hardcore but bad ass)

🎸Cries of Pleasure, Heavenly Pain - Gulch

No real lyrics. When you think of a song your mother or grandma would say that is metal it’s this song. A lot of drums. A lot of guitar. A lot of yelling. This song is not the best song in the world but there is something about it that meets some inner angst.

🎸Riot Squad - Cock Sparrer

fighting the law with the rest of us. British punk rock from the 80s. This song is about friends changing and leaving the group. This band is still playing live at the age of 70 in England - sound just like the album. Just very very good.

🎸 For Whom The Bell Tolls - Metallica

take a look to the sky just before you die. This is the song you have playing as you walk out to the baseball mound. Or the song playing as you have an angsty power scene in a movie. The narrative song in a battle scene of a good book. Quality metal and always on repeat.

🎸 The Simple Type - Broadside

we shoot first, ask questions later. A good pop punk song that’s going to make you think about someone you’ve parted with. The light melody with the guitars just brings out the air guitar. Always going to boost the mood even if you’re not thinking about someone you’ve parted from.

🎸 Those Anarco Punks are Mysterious (Acoustic EP) - Against Me!

reaching out for a scary kind of perfection. against me! Has been the most punk rock band going from acoustic to rock and back again. trans front woman Laura Grace has brought the band to the future. The theme hold and it’s impossible to not sing along with all angst and distaste for the man.

🎸My Life For Hire - A Day To Remember

this is a battleground. The middle of the song has one of the most iconic breakdowns of all pop punk music. It is impossible to not close your eyes and let the build up fuel you. Working out to just processing life this song will build with you.

Hardcore, pop punk, metal, punk, and anarchy.

A playlist by Buster Palmerteri

#ren | Buster #&buster #swyntask #tasks

[jere-me--oh-my]

Laura's SRRP Ships as Songs from her 'All the kitchen's a stage' playlist

Buckle up.

Wolfing: Give Your Heart A Break by 'Glee Cast' / Lay All Your Love On My by Dominic Cooper & Amanda Seyfried @princess-ting-ting

Mimemy: Bad Idea by Sara Bareilles & Jason Mraz / Lay All Your Love On My by Dominic Cooper & Amanda Seyfried @madmagicmim

Quirk: Super Trouper by Meryl Streep, Julie Walters & Christine Baranski / 30/90 by Andrew Garfield, Joshua Henry & Vanessa Hudgens @aquata-the-champ

Hercary: Glasgow (No Place Like Home) by Jessie Buckley / You Will Be Found by Dear Evan Hansen Cast @boointhenight

Mighty Hercules: Why Did It Have To Be Me? by Josh Dylan, Lily James & Hugh Skinner @ambereyed-mountain-prince @geehosaphat

#srrpinspo #cackling. #Some of these WILL ambush you in the emotions though so you know

[geehosaphat]

Mighty Hercules + Swynlake Regency

The Son of God made answer As only humans can With arms oustretched he bid me 'Come first to see me as man'

@ambereyed-mountain-prince @kouros-herc

#the quote is an except from 'A Hymn to the Divine Yearning' by John Love #tw religious imagery #tw religion #[ mirror ] #srrp #[ inspo ] #[ mighty ] #[ ft. herc ] #[ mine ]

[kouros-herc]

Rota Update - Gym Staff

[Email from [email protected] to: ALL STAFF]

@aquata-the-champ @broodingdove @ambereyed-mountain-prince @heart-of-dunbroch [@hotbrad @laurel ] 

Attachment: Olympus Rota 26/09 - 09/10

Dear All, 

Hope you’re well, I’ve attached the next rota. As always, if anyone’s availability has changed please let me know ASAP so we can try to work it out!

Also, you will notice that I’m not going to be in from the 30th to the 3rd. I’m going to be taking some personal days because it turns out I haven’t actually used any of my holiday yet this year. Laurel will be in charge on the Friday and Saturday, and Brad will be taking charge on the Sunday. Obviously, I will still have my phone on and will be reachable in case there are any problems, but I won’t be checking my email, so please contact me by phone if needed!

All the best, 

any questions - come see me!

Herc. 

#this is purely to serve as an official notice that Herc is actually going to take a weekend off!!! #for the first time!!! since he took over the gym!! #he's not taken a full day off without it being closed before #big landmark for him tbh #and he feels so guilty and horrible about it #but this is about growth

[angel-milano]

Pride in December

Ren as Healing

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#i did get your note about orange and tried to tone it down #happy holidays z! #swynsecretsanta #ren

[swynlake-secret-santa-posting]

Left at the front desk of Olympus Gym, addressed to @ambereyed-mountain-prince

#to: ren

[davidhatter]

You'll Have To Make A Deal || Fox Hat

Date: Spring 2023 Featuring: @ambereyed-mountain-prince Warnings: None really! (although there is one wee thought about offering to sell a limb) For context: Clever Whispers To Save A Princess

The beginnings of a plan is turned into the full thing when a deal is struck between fae and sorcerer...

HATTER: 

Hatter had barely slept after getting back from speaking with Aurora’s housemates, too wired with nerves and worry for the girl who was asleep in the forest just beyond the town. A part of him wanted to go find this Ren person right then, but he kept talking himself out of it. Attempting to make a deal with the fae was probably going to be a headache in itself, if he bothered them in the middle of the night he doubted he would get much cooperation. 

So he waited. The sun rose and hung in the sky, morning rolling over into afternoon. Then he left the tea shoppe to the Rock Shoppe. It sat across the street and up Main Street, a few doors down. Hatter held the door open for a patron leaving the store before entering it himself. He hadn’t been in since the place had opened its doors but had no time or patience to look around at the moment. Instead, he approached the front desk, where someone who seemed to work there was. 

“Hello,” he greeted. “Erm, does a Ren happen to be in today?” 

REN:

Generally speaking, Ren only lurked around the Rock Shoppe when Martin was also there, they weren't really the customer service driven sort and when they got bored they moved things around and, shockingly, Martin didn't like his meticulous organization scattered around to see if he would notice what was misplaced. Especially when he knew Ren was doing it specifically for that reason. 

But now and then Ren actually stepped in to do the basics like run the register and keep people from breaking things when nobody else could cover a shift. 

They were just sitting there, rolling a multicolored stone sphere back and forth on the counter near the register, when the guy meandered in, as people often did; browsing happened more than showing up looking for something specific. 

That something specific was typically not, however, themselves. 

"Yes?" Ren replied, pausing in their toying with the sphere, "Was there a reason you're looking for me, or is this just a social call?" Obviously it wasn't, but why not entertain themselves a bit; it had been a very boring day. 

HATTER: Maybe it was the big stressor, maybe it was the lack of sleep, maybe it was the knowledge that this person in front of him was fae, but Hatter already felt exhausted from this interaction and they’d only asked one question. He watched them for a moment, eyes flickering to the thing in their hands, before he found his manners again and cleared his throat. 

A more careful person may have asked for some sort of verification that this person was who they said they were. Double checked their source with someone else. Hatter was no such person. He was also in a bit of a hurry. 

“A reason,” he answered, his person leaning backwards a tad, as if showing off his hesitance. Hatter searched the store around them for any wandering customers or other workers. It seemed empty, but just in case he got closer to the desk and lowered his volume.  “I was told that you were in possession of magic that’s…not easy to come by.” 

To put it mildly. As Hatter usually did. 

REN: 

Ren could practically smell the uneasiness coming off the man, which was the first sign that someone knew just a little bit more than they should, and the words uttered only confirmed it. If anyone else had been in the shoppe Ren would have dismissed it, easily and with so much as a shrug, because this was Martin's little haven and Ren wasn't going to overstep his partner's say in what went on there. And Martin wasn't going to be exactly pleased with magic that shouldn't be done being rooted to the place. 

But Ren was alone and this was just a conversation, they weren't really doing anything yet. 

"Here I'm not," they replied simply, not glancing up from toying with the stone sphere, catching it with the edge of their slightly-too-curved nails. Important that was established firmly, from the start. "Otherwise, that depends on the what and the why." 

Running circles in conversation usually entertained Ren, but something about the man gnawed at them, they couldn't place it exactly but it was familiar. And not in a comfortable sort of way. Even as the man edged away in his own discomfort Ren felt the tiniest twinge of caution themselves. Still, the possibility of striking deals was far too tempting to any fae, worth at least some speculation.

"You may want to have that conversation before you ask questions." They finally added, abandoning the distraction and turning their full attention to the stranger; alright, someone had clearly known to send the guy to them, and Ren wanted to know why before they offered anything more.

HATTER: “Okay,” he said, though it was tentative. This was because they were barely two minutes into this conversation and Hatter was already confused. Have that conversation? He hoped they meant with them rather than having to venture back out into the world to have some sort of self-reflective moment or to go to Jiminy’s office down the way to get a report card to bring back. 

“The what would be something that can act as a battery of sorts for magic. It’ll need to take the place of another energy source,” Hatter went on to say. “The why is just because I need a replacement.” 

He didn’t want to give away anything too specific despite knowing he could be forced to anyway, but he figured if he kept it bland enough than there would be no interest to ask further questions. Someone out there already knew where Aurora was and they had wanted to use that knowledge as some sort of bargaining chip. Her housemates had been trying to protect her against things like that, and now Hatter was, too. 

“Would you be able to get anything like that?” he asked and then, after a little sigh, continued, “I’m more than willing to give whatever it is you need in exchange.” 

It was true that he had done this before, but back then he had been young. A far more desperate version of himself, or just a lot more open with displaying his emotions on his person. Back then it had been easy, though, he had just agreed to whatever it was he was being asked. It hadn’t even felt like he had asked for anything, just taken what he had been given. And yet nothing had changed. Or rather, a lot had changed, but he was right back at a point in his life that he was willing to hand over anything in order for someone else to have the life he knew they could. 

REN: 

At some point Cael had hopped up onto the counter, sitting silently and watching the exchange, as he always did when issues of magic and deals popped up; the flick of his ears the only sign that he was having a conversation of his own with Ren parallel to what was going on. He didn't trust mortals, didn't trust this one, and it was his job to scrutinize the nonsense Ren agreed to before it got too big or became a problem.

Ren, on the other hand, was filtering the rants of an annoyed fox in the back of their head and listening to other conversation directly; sorting between them. 

The request was exceedingly simple, actually, Ren could attend to it without hardly any effort. There were things clearly not being said, but they weren't overly interested in why that was; people dug their own graves sometimes and if magic went badly for them? They came looking for it, didn't they? Not that Ren intended harm, but their magic had ways of twisting, and there were always costs, even beyond the deal itself. 

"Anything." Ren repeated, because the danger in that word was insurmountable, it spoke of either arrogance, foolishness, or desperation. But people who came to them were always at least one of the three. "You need something stronger than a battery." They continued, it wasn't a question; any sorcerer could fit together a magic battery, but coming there meant the man was dealing with more than simple need. 

A moment passed, Cael's tail flicking as Ren weighed things. For them there was little risk, but the mortal was taking a big one; people only did that for gain or someone else. And the tone, the tired look that clung to the man; Ren was guessing it to be the latter. "Yes." And any good Unseelie would leave it there, speak no more, but Ren had developed the terrible affliction of some degree of fairness over the course of an unfair life. "That sort of magic takes its own cost, outside of the one I require." 

And the choice fell to the stranger. 

Ren waited, working it out in their head what either answer would require, certain they already knew what it would be. 

HATTER: The addition of the fox caught Hatter’s attention, but only enough for him to give a slight nod of greeting, because he didn’t know what else to do. His family never had a familiar but they weren’t a foreign concept. Neither were animals who liked to partake in conversation, seeing as he had a regular customer in the shape of a squirrel these days. So he wasn’t necessarily bothered by the fox themselves, he was just wary of any companion of the fae. 

He nodded his head in confirmation. Yes, anything. He knew the mistake of the word when involved with a deal such as this, but there was really nothing he wouldn’t spare aside from that of a life that wasn’t his own. The same went for secrets or information of another. Those weren’t his to share, though, so he didn’t see them as being something to bargain with. Anything he did have he was willing to give. 

Then he nodded for a third time, this one a bit more reluctant but, yes, he did. 

“It’s why I’m here instead of jimmying up one myself,” he admitted. “I need something from…not here because the things I need to power aren’t from here, either.” 

Hatter sort of expected for more bumps in the road than the deal itself. Magic wasn’t always so cut and dry, especially the magic of the fae. There always seemed to be a price to pay, even if he had simply been here asking for a bloody napkin there would have been a price to pay. 

“I figured. So, are we talking just for the user or will it have a big bad blow back that I’ll need to get a permit on from the town, sort of cost?”

REN:

The hint of pause that marked what Ren assumed to be surprise at how few the stipulations seemed to be was both entertaining and proof that, yes, mortals had a habit of assuming things easier gained didn't mean a larger cost after the fact. There were plenty of games to play with that, and Ren wasn't minding their manners solely because Martin wouldn't be thrilled with magic deals in his shoppe, but they were just a little more aware of them for that reason. 

What did this man have to offer them anyway that Ren didn't have? Or couldn't get? That was a simple answer; magic was stronger when it was grounded in different places, different ways; deals only served her bigger goals; every bleed of that magic into the mortal world the better. The stranger would satisfy Ren's real cost aside from whatever else he gave. 

But of course it couldn't be that simple for the man; that wasn't any fun.  

"Do you think I want the nosy little busybodies in town aware of certain types of magic?" Ren replied, simplicity in the truth, and turned their attention towards the doorway with a cut of their eyes in that direction to assure the space was still empty before Cael hopped down to go tend to watching it. 

"Your secrecy is a given, your name," Ren paused, more blunt than they preferred but this man knew what he was doing, quite obviously knew the sort of creature he was talking to. Names were a given; the groundwork of any deal; the lock and key needed. "Then the question is what is it that you have to offer me that's worth something rare?" 

HATTER: That made him smile, eyebrows arching and shoulders lifting in half a shrug. He had no idea what a fae wanted. Dramatics seemed to be their style, but, if they didn’t want any fanfare this go around then he wasn’t going to argue. Like her housemates had said, there should be no extra danger brought on Aurora than there already was. He didn’t want to draw attention to her situation either. So if it was just the case of it falling onto him, then that was the ideal here. 

“David Hatter,” he said because it wasn’t exactly a well guarded secret. Anyone could find it if they knew who to ask or where to look. And, no, he didn’t have a middle name like his siblings did. One would think as the first of 4 his parents would have been ready and prepared, but they had been debating on his name til the bitter end. So much so that the thought of a middle name had eluded them and any of the ones that had gotten vetoed didn’t seem to go with the David his mother had strong-armed onto the birth certificate. So it was just David. Except these days, where he was just Hatter. 

As for the second part, he honestly had no idea. 

“Uh,” Hatter frowned. There wasn’t a lot he had that people could have wanted, let alone that of the fae. “Free coffee for the rest of my days? Tea? I’m not sure there’s anything a kitchen witch could give you that the owner here couldn’t.” 

He gestured about, knowing that the Ambrosius kid owned the place. With a name like that there was probably nothing a sorcerer like that couldn’t do better than him. 

“What do you want?” he countered. 

REN:

Very briefly they weighed that, the name, that sense of energy behind it, would Hatter risk giving a false answer? A name came down to who a person thought they were, true names at least, and it was easier to tell when they were offered and when it was a misdirection by the way they were. Ren studied the man for a moment, silently, patiently waiting for some slip in the conviction that would betray him if the words weren't honest, but none came. 

Hatter had a point; all the things mortals had that appealed to the Unseelie weren't all the appealing to Ren, not lately, a few years past the conversation might have been a very different one. Ren had to balance things though; silence wasn't always a given and taking anything that might get the town too quick on their little yapping about terrible Magicks only made their life in that place more difficult. And Martin more anxious; then that was a whole other problem to tackle. 

Besides, what Ren actually wanted was accomplished regardless; one more singular point of their magic bleeding into the town, taking root there. Hatter didn't need to know about his part in that; what Unseelie shared all their secrets anyway? 

The suggestion, of course, brought their thoughts to their partner. What did a kitchen witch do anyway? Sounded like the sort of thing Martin would have been, if he'd had magic truly. Deals required obvious trades though, substantial things, material or not. 

The gesture didn't go unnoticed, and only acknowledged with a flick of eyes towards their surroundings as well. "Oh, you assume I have no interest in mortal magic because of my partner's standing," Ren's brow furrowed in amusement, "Quite the opposite; but it will have to be something useful to me, or him."

HATTER: That took Hatter completely off guard, eyebrows popping up toward the bill of his hat. Partner? Oh. He had assumed they just worked here, not that they had created any sense of a life. Or connection. Sure, Thistle was in this town and had been for a while, but Hatter didn’t think it was because they had moved there or because they enjoyed this realm more than the other. 

It did worry him for the shoppe’s owner. Did he know? Had they told him? Or was this all some sort of long con on their part and the Ambrosius kid just happened to be a part of that? A game to play to keep them from getting too bored. But then, even more surprising, the fae was asking for something that could benefit the shoppe owner. Themselves, too, but it was the mention of Ambrosius even still that had Hatter wondering all over again. Because why would they even think of wasting a deal on someone else if they didn’t…? 

Oh, hell, he didn’t need to get caught up in the personal lives of other people. Especially ones as powerful as the one sitting in front of him, and the shoppe owner himself. 

“Useful. Okay, well, um…,” he trailed off, trying to think of what that could possibly be, hands clapping together in front of him. When nothing in particular came to mind he figured he better just start listing off his will. “I’ve got my savings, a motorcycle, uh, my flat, tools, kitchenware, but it’s all got charms and the like on them at this point, books, furniture. I can make food or drinks that’ve got whatever enchantment you’d need...” 

He shrugged, at a loss, knowing that none of that was going to be worth the magic he was asking for.

REN:

The reaction brought equal measure entertainment and the desire to roll their eyes; mortals acted as though they had somehow invented the concepts of affection, loyalty, or love. True, it was not often discussed in their little stories about scary monsters under the bed or creatures haunting their nightmares, but, oh, what humans thought they knew and in fact were only living in their own delusions. 

Ren was reminded then; the way the world centered around their own views of the world, their habit of making their opinions the center of their universe, mortals weren't very different from the fae when it came to that. 

But Ren had the benefit of sharper teeth and vicious claws, and a mind to match; they only smiled with a tiny hint of those teeth when Hatter's unasked questions gleamed in his gaze. 

Ren didn't mind so much, the man knowing crossing Martin was crossing them as well; what good was power if not to guard the important things in life? 

The man before them wasn't a threat, outright, and Ren didn't want him to become one; that only brought tiresome problems they didn't want to devote attention to when they could be doing far better things like enjoying the relative comfortable ease and pleasantries of their life outside of Elfhame. 

Selfish, of course, but Ren never claimed not to be. 

From the standpoint of Martin's supposed magic lineage and Ren's own very real one, no, nothing the man offered was worth their interest. But, well, Martin liked his little magic trinkets and he liked his baking, his kitchen toys, and mostly Ren liked to keep their partner happy. 

They dropped their elbows back to the counter, rolling their shoulders and lifting a hand in a vague motion. "Obviously I don't trust any sort of food or drink that's had magic I don't know involved." Couldn't be too careful about that, given the traps fae themselves often rooted in such things. "And your machines and dwelling don't interest me." Nor was the former less than a danger; Ren knew most mortal vehicles of any design had far too much iron and steel involved for their comfort. 

"Your little kitchen toys though, I suppose, might entertain my partner, if you're any good at your enchantments. Saves him time with little things like that himself." They tapped their nails lightly on the glass counter, it was a half truth, Martin did like that sort of magic, saved him time finding ways to acquire it. 

HATTER: Hatter was preparing himself for having to beg and plead here, unsure of what else he could possibly do in order to get this deal done. Or what else he could offer besides his own limbs. But they were old, and he didn’t know fae magic well enough to know if they were even valuable to them. His eyes trailed the ground as he tried to think of something else…

More unexpected answers came. Hatter probably should have learned by now that he was well in over his head when it came to the fae, even so much as speaking to one was like being tossed out to sea and having to fight to get to the surface after every wave hammering over his head. This felt overwhelming in a different way, though, because this was so much different than the conversations he’d had with Thistle. If one could call those conversations. Encounters was probably a more suitable word. 

This felt…reasonable. Actually, no it didn’t. It felt altogether far too tame. All they wanted was charmed kitchen ware for their partner…? Seriously? He waited a moment, to see if they would say anything else, like they were adding a footnote about how he was going to have to give them a firstborn or something. But it never came. Hm. 

Well, best not look a gift horse in the mouth. If that was all they were looking for, then Hatter would have no problems with this exchange. It was far better than the last deal he’d been a part of, that was for sure, and the last thing he wanted to do was make this that much more difficult for no reason. 

“Done,” he said with a nod. “Er…I suppose just let me know what he’d like as far as make and enchantment goes. That won’t be a problem at all.” 

REN: 

What people didn't know was less of a hassle to Ren, all in all; they didn't feel an overwhelming need to play the big, scary Unseelie card unless it suited them. It didn't, not at the moment. And they definitely didn't want to start a body part collection; that was bound to be on Martin's list of things that would cause a panic attack. Plus, it was needlessly messy for not a lot of use. 

That pause when Hatter was standing there, waiting for the other shoe to drop, Ren could hear Cael's commentary bouncing around inside their head and very pointedly ignored their highly opinionated advisor. Was there any point in putting bad blood between themselves and the mortals who lived in town? No; who knew when any person might be useful later? And generally people were less useful if you chained them to feeling as though they had to be. 

Favors were a common currency with the fae, but Ren preferred to use that hand sparingly, just in case.

"I don't do those things here." They gave a nod to Cael, still perched next to the door. "Too many little magic trinkets here that might pick up traces. Later, find me in Enchantra; he'll show you when you're close." 

Besides, they had to watch the shoppe until Martin came back or Zero showed up, whichever happened first; responsibility was such an exhausting burden, wasn't it?

#title: (you'll have to make a deal) #ch: (renard dubhuir) #(fox hat)

[thorns-ofthe-thistle]

Skunk, Fox, Raccoon . [The Fae Princes]

In which Thistle asks his cousins for a favour...[takes place: late March]

@ambereyed-mountain-prince, @fiend-ofthefae

[tw -- talk of war/death/battle]

prior reading:

A Very Unhappy Unbirthday Dreams Come True Follow the White Rabbit Off to Never-Wonderland Down the Rabbit Hole… Marriage is What Brings Us Together Today

... ... ...

[link here]

#swynslightly #swynbriar #fox and thorns #bristle #the fae princes #skunk fox raccoon

[my-lost-darling]

To Run or Not to Run {Wendy & Ren}

Wendy should have known better, it was only a matter of time until more of them walked through that door. The Court was the perfect place in town for the Fae to hang out. It wasn’t like debauchery couldn’t be found around every corner if you looked.

Pixies was like that too. Or so Wendy had heard. She had also heard that many fairies worked there and while the seelie and unseelie were different she wasn’t in any rush to go spend time with them.

She had made the Court her place. Somewhere she was coming to trust the people inside. The more Theodore and now Slightly appeared she debated her need to quit. To run before even more stepped into town.

This time she didn’t falter seeing them and walked straight to them as they joined. “Were you able to cause more chaos during that dream or did it end on a less than exciting note for you.”

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#ambereyed mountain prince #//sorry for the major delayyy

[cracksinthe-ice]

The Morning Comes {Slightly & Nimble}

Nimble was in Swynlake. Why Swynlake. Well it didn’t take much research to figure out all his cousins were located in one town. And dear Wendy was as well. Foolish girl who should have tried to disappear into the wind.

Not to mention the fact there were little things wrong with the High Court after some mortals stopped in, so it was only fair that he came to investigate a little bit.

But Nimble wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t announce his presence or invite Slighty for a cup of tea. Even if the other Prince was a banished one.

Nimble’s born and bred butterflies sought the other out and when he knew the location he offered an invitation. Though Swynlake did not have a good spot for tea and quiet. He could only offer an invitation to meet in Enchantra. Quiet and filled with nature at the very least.

“Good Morrow Slightly. It’s good to see banishment hasn’t dulled your colours.”

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#ambereyed mountain prince

[uffdah-riley]

Mind Your Business || Rightly

Riley Anderson was quickly learning that this town was super weird.

Like, yes, Riley read the pamphlets detailing some of the Oddities that Swynlake was known for but it was different reading about newbies getting lost in town and experiencing it for themselves. Riley had been pretty sure that they were going the right direction to get to some place called Pizza Planet their parents had ordered food from. But Riley was bitter because their parents hadn’t gotten it delivered because “It’ll be good for you to take a walk and get it yourself! Also who wants to pay delivery fees?!” Riley! Riley wanted to pay delivery fees! Why would they want to go get it themselves?! God their parents were such Boomers sometimes!

So now Riley was in front of some record store with no pizza place in sight and what were they supposed to do about this? Every time they tried to pull up their GPS to just give them the directions that they needed it went all wonky and said they were in a completely separate part of town and now Riley had a headache and their pizza was totally gonna be cold and they were definitely not learning to love the town as their parents told them was the goal before school started.

As if school wasn’t starting the next week?! Like?! How quickly did their parents expect them to forget about their completely awesome life back in Minnesota?!

“Hey, dude, can you help me?” Riley called out to the nearest person. Whoa, the vibes coming off this guy were super weird but, like, Riley figured that it might just be their headache growing rather than some weird.... magnetic repulsion thing going on?

Riley needed a goddamn nap.

“Hey, sorry, I’m new and I know this is such a classic new person thing to ask directions and, like, this town is known for this but I’m not a tourist so don’t get me started but do you know how to get to Pizza Planet? I tried asking someone a couple blocks ago and they laughed at me which was totally rude so please just help me?!”

@ambereyed-mountain-prince​

#[ t. mind your business ] #[ ft. ren ] #my dumb kid

[winndeavor]

title: three's company

rating: teen and up 

relationships: Winston Deavor/Tony Rydinger/Renard Dubhuir

additional tags: Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Tony Has No Curse, Older Married Couple, Established Relationship, Slow Burn, Somehow They Thought Bringing a Chaotic Fae Into the Household Would Help, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Subtle Polyamory, Pretentious Art Dealer Ren, Music Producer Tony, Business Mogul Winston

A/N - I would say I'm sorry but you both know that's a lie. I enjoyed getting my grubby little hands over every single inch of this. 😘 [ @foreverydinger, @ambereyed-mountain-prince ]; repurposed to become an ACT OF KINDNESS task

Today was Winston and Tony Deavor-Rydinger's twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Three months ago, they celebrated their twenty-sixth year as a couple. They were happy. They loved one another. 

They were missing something. 

Of course, neither of them realized that yet. No, they woke up as they did every morning - Winston, his face buried into Tony's salt and pepper curls, a hand clenched around his middle, Tony with his bare, freezing toes shoved against his calves, pulled from slumber by the incessant batting of their granddaughter's beloved dog Frito ( who was staying with them while she and her parents were away on holiday ). 

They would both groan, disentangle their limbs, and Winston would get the dog her breakfast while Tony grumbled about the kitchen, making them both steaming cups of coffee, a bitter, night owl forced from his slumber in the ungodly hours of the early morning. 

Winston would go for his run, Tony would curl up on the patio, and when he returned, a bouquet of flowers would be gripped in hand, picked fresh from the garden box out front, Tony would smile and drag him in for a kiss, even though Winston would gripe about his back and the horrible angle. 

They love one another. They're happy. 

They step out their door that morning, and neither of them realizes that they are about to find a piece that had been missing, hanging right beneath their noses. 

That evening, they had dinner at their favorite restaurant, talking animatedly with the waitstaff, exchanging gifts over dessert, charming, quaint, and entirely reminiscent of them. Later, hand-in-hand, rings knocking against one another, they stepped from the chill London air on their walk home and into a curious little building, stuffed to the gills with people, reeking of sophistication and, perhaps, a bit of arrogance. 

Dubhuir Art Dealings, the sign read. 

Tony's mouth pulled up unto a sideways grin, his elbow knocking into Winston's side. "You've wanted a new piece for the living room, love," he teased, before tugging the other man through the door behind him. 

Meandering through the collections, Winston could not help but goggle at the work, some of it dark, dreary, and brooding while other pieces sparked with a life of their own, almost living the way some of them held movement, frames filled with strokes of color, paint and oils, watercolor and charcoal. All of it superb, all of it insanely expensive. 

Whoever Dubhuir was, they were certainly gifted, or their client was, for they each had the same signature scrawled at the bottom: a capital R, curled into a scribbled outline. 

Tony was examining one of them now, fingertips curled around the edge of Winston's sleeve, turning his head this way and that, trying to make out what, exactly, it could be. 

"It is a fox." Winston turned toward the voice, dry and bemused, tugging Tony's hand. That voice belonged to a well-dressed individual, their face sharp, eyes calculating; someone who had a quick tongue, no doubt. Their eyes alighted on their hands, a private smile curling around their mouth. "I will tell you, to keep your husband from breathing on my artwork." 

Ah, so it was Dubhuir's then. 

"But we shall keep it our secret, yes?" 

"'Course," Tony said, clearing his throat as he rubbed at the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Sorry about, uh, that. It's all very good. We just wanted to see who the artist was, since the information cards don't have one listed."  

Winston watched that sly smile grow wider, showing off perfectly white, perfectly sharp-looking canines. A fox, indeed. 

"Which would you recommend," Winston asked, drawing the attention off Tony with practiced ease. Ever since they were young, he'd always been stepping in it. And here everyone thought he was so bloody charming. "I'd like to buy one, a pair even, if you'll give us a recommendation." 

Dubhuir cocked a brow, head tilting to the side as they assessed both he and Tony before abruptly turning on their heel, waving a hand for them to follow behind. Glancing over at Tony, Winston shrugged and the pair did, hand-in-hand, weaving easily through the throng of art connoisseurs, given that they were at least a head taller than the rest. 

It was easy to watch for the slighter person in front of them, form cut in a way that was different from everyone else. Yes, there was sophistication, but there was something underlying it, as well. Something neither man could truly place their finger on, but which was intriguing, nonetheless. 

The trio stopped in one of the less crowded areas of the gallery, and Winston's eyes immediately lit upon the two pieces. Though they were separated by two different frames, the sight of them was breathtaking. Dark and somber, the forested area was wreathed in fog and shadow, the thin trickle of a waterfall cutting across the dark landscape. In the foreground, there is something lurking, a flashing splotches of orange and red that felt both familiar and unfamiliar, like it was something they could recognize, but could tell neither whom or what it was. 

Tony's breath left his body at the sight. Winston, eyes never leaving the piece, agreed with him. 

They purchased both on the spot, roving over the canvases in an attempt to find more pieces that tied this seldom visited artwork to their creator. The act continued once they hung them in their living room, fishing for more and more peculiarities as time wore on, like the canvas shifted with each morning. 

At first, it was the splotches moving; at first it was on one side, then it was at the other, in the foreground one morning, and at the farthest peak the next. Occasionally, there was a second, smaller, orange-splotch with it, though who that could be neither Tony nor Winston had any idea. 

Then, one morning, the orange was gone, the leaves had changed, and the artist known only as Dubhuir was at their door, holding their side with a sharp-toothed grimace. Tony looked at Winston, eyes wide, and let them in without a word. Winston grabbed their medical kit from beneath the sink, housed there for the skinned knees and bruises of youth, and patched Dubhuir up as best they knew how. 

Neither man thought their guest would stay, but stay Dubhuir did. Quickly, they became a fixture in the home, flitting from room to room with a solidity to their presence that, somehow, made it feel less empty. 

It had been a long time, after all, that Tony or Winston had had anyone stay. Longer, still, that it had not been family or life-long friends. 

Eventually, they learned to call them Ren, and not to ask when the dealer came back home with aching bones and tired, golden eyes. Instead, Tony and Winston watched their paintings, and knew when Ren would return. 

It had become a pastime, a way to play a game, but now it felt much more significant, and neither man wanted to lose that. It felt too much like losing Ren, something they whispered about in the safety of their bedroom when Ren was aware, when they returned a little bit more haunted, less sharp-toothed grins and quick, silver tongue. 

There was something that was hanging over them, a black shroud; both Tony and Winston could see it in the way Ren moved, the too quick smiles and the waving away of their concerns, like they didn't want to get the men involved in whatever it was. Perhaps it had never occurred to them that they already were. That they had been since the night those paintings had gone home with them. 

Tony hatched a plan after the next time the splotch, a fox they had long-ago realized, went away. Winston didn't even bat an eye, just accepted Ren for what they were. 

A part of this home, now, even if they were too stubborn to realize it. 

Both men watched the painting carefully, after that, tracking how far the fox and his little antlered companion moved, when they flitted back and forth, closer and then away again. The evening they came back to the foreground, Tony called his studio and said he wouldn't be in and Winston claimed their granddaughter was sick and needed a carer; it was easy to lie, when you were the owner of the company and didn't have something holding your tongue at bay. 

Waiting for Ren wasn't hard; they spent the hours reading and listening to Tony's old records, glancing over work they needed to finish, enjoying one another's company. When the doorknob turned and a familiar silhouette snuck in as quietly as they could, Tony and Winston stood from their spots, flicked on the lights, and studied Ren's face, their body.

They were tired, ached with it, and didn't like being caught. It was clear in the way their whole body stiffened, in the way their canines barred for a moment, on guard, before recognizing who it was that had come to greet them. Their body sagged, in defeat or exhaustion neither would ever know, and Winston caught them with a dart forward, lifting them up and off their feet in an instant. 

Ren was too tired to protest, though there was a glare hidden somewhere beneath a mass of curls Tony had called charming and Winston had called foppish. Both were correct, in their own ways. Ren had never truly seemed like they entirely belonged in the modern world; a part of it, but never wholly there. 

They found out why that evening, curling protectively around the faerie shoved between them in their bed, so snuggly fit that you couldn't tell whose limbs began where. 

In the morning, Frito would wake them, begging for food. Tony would unfurl from the warmth of the body beneath his own and plod into the kitchen, a scowl on his face. Winston would follow behind, much more cheerful, as he quietly closed their door. A third mug would be taken from its place in the strainer while Frito was fed, walked, and Winston returned from his run. Breakfast would be made, the scent finally pulling their fae from the mound of comforter and covers they'd been bundled in, bleary eyed and, for the first time, uncertain. 

Winston just smiled and passed Ren their drink, Tony watching with dark, hawk's eyes, as Ren took their plate and tucked into their food, eyes widening at the flowers that had appeared to set in front of their placemat. 

That morning was Winston and Tony Deavor-Rydinger's twenty-sixth wedding anniversary. It was the first when they realized they had someone else they wanted to keep. 

When they looked at their paintings that evening, Ren situated snugly between them on the sofa, curly head shoved beneath Winston's chin and feet tucked against Tony's thigh, the antlered creature was all that remained, protective, as it surveyed the dark, mountainous valley below. 

#smell the flowers; winston #swyntask #ch: tony #ch: renard | slightly #//listen this has been on my Drive for months and I wanted to post it for you all #//it was just really fun to write as a crackship & also just a study of these two AMAZING characters

[geehosaphat]

Are You My Mother? || Mighty

Date: January 11th, 2024 Summary: In which an old gift from Martin's fiance becomes relevant once again and brings an unexpected bundle of.. yeah, sure, let's go with joy into their home. 😉 TW: None Link: Here

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#[ ft. ren ] #[ t. are you my mother? ] #[ ft. mandy ]

[kouros-herc]

Masterminds - Kouren

“Hey,” the tall man nodded to Ren as he entered the break-room, but his head was elsewhere. Defeated by the walls of his office, Hercules flopped down onto the sofa. He didn’t even want to make a cup of tea yet. This day was feeling about a hundred hours old and it was barely lunch time. He’d been hungry for about four hours anyway and as the evenings began to stretch longer and longer with the soft pastel of spring, his dinner only got further away. 

It was no surprise then that his attempts to come up with a new marketing programme were going spectacularly poorly. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the chair as he tried to think it through for the thousandth time. Sure business was going pretty well for now, but the drop-off in New Years Resolution-ers had definitely started to hit and he knew, even if it put yet another thing on his plate, he had to try and head this one off at the pass before it became a problem for everyone to worry about. 

Opening his eyes again, he stared at the ceiling. 

“Hey-” he spoke aloud to Ren, “- if I asked you what is it that motivates you to come to the gym in the summer, what would you say?”

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#ren

[charmed-henry]

Slightly Apologetic | Renry

Henry was really trying to move past everything that had happened last week. He knew he had embarrassed himself. And he felt silly for how worried he had been about Rose, and even sillier that she had had to basically walk him through everything that was happening. Swynlake and its strange magic. Henry wanted to write all of it off as a freak incident that would never happen again.

But there was one thing Henry figured he probably should address-- he had fought Ren, and badly injured them. And as much as Henry didn’t trust Ren’s magic, it was really not a good look to go swinging a lightsaber at your roommate and giving them a massive burn on their shoulder (even if Henry was still recovering from the scratches he had gotten from Ren’s claws (?!)). Henry had started the fight. He owed Ren an apology. 

After all, if Ren did decide to bring those sharp claws out again, Henry wanted it on record that he had apologized to his roommate.

So Henry did what any upstanding Order man would do when he had to apologize: he went to Blue Apron and picked out a basket of apple crumpets, with fresh apples from Besydus. He walked into the dorm room and cleared his throat, offering the basket. “Ren,” Henry said in a stiff tone. “I owe you an apology.”

[fit check]

@ambereyed-mountain-prince

#slightly apologetic #slightly #ren #i literally never remember how i tag things

[frostskader]

Happy Christmas! @ambereyed-mountain-prince

Happy Christmas Z! I hope i captured Slighty’s vibe. I wanted to go with something somewhat dark where they are warring with everything Fae related and just how dangerous they are when challenged. Just in general being someone’s enemy and the darkness that comes with that.

As a crown prince they are up for a lot of challenges especially when it comes to the moutainlands.

I wake up to the sounds of the silence that allows For my mind to run around with my ear up to the ground I'm searching to behold the stories that are told

When my back is to the world that was smiling when I turned

Tell you you're the greatest

But once you turn they hate us  

#bdrpsecretsanta