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sp00pygal · 1 year

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Hot take: dc x dp, but with good parents Jack and Maddie fenton.

Yes, Danny is part of the batfam. Yes, Bruce has legally adopted Danny and would have adopted jazz (if she didn't insist she was too old to be adopted). Jack is still their loving father. Maddie is still their devoted mother. Both parents recognize that their children love the batkids and the batparents (Yes, this includes Alfred and Maybe Selena) as family, and as the family doesn't seem abnormal (by amity park standards) they let their kids develop healthy relationships with whoever they want.

Madie fenton is Bruce Wayne's science nemesis. She doesn't buy "Brucie" for a second. Millionaire playboy who? Every time she picks up her kids from his house as per the shared custody agreement, she finds him tinkering with some strange device and casually points out "yknow, you have something, but it could be better if you....". She's so used to correcting her husband's math errors and design flaws that the first time she catches Bruce with an unsafe device, reflexes kick in.

Jack, on the other hand, pulls an uno reverse on Bruce. Bruce thought he was adopting a black haired and blue eyed teen with angst issues. Nope! Jack now has a new reclusive rich best friend! They're family, practically brothers! You want to run for gotham mayor and end city crime? Anything you say B-man!

Jack and Maddie start showing up to batkids's civilian events for moral support. Cassandra has a ballet recital? They're in the front seat; cheering her on! Tim has a big presentation in front of the company board of directors? Yet again, Jack and Maddie somehow got past building security; and holy heck, why do they have a "support Tim Wayne" t-shirt cannon?!!? After the 5th cookie care basket with sugar snaps that tried to eat his stapler at the bludhaven police station, Dick now has to politely ask them to stop sending food. He appreciates the effort, but the gingerbread men caused a queen of fables scare and tried to eat a convict.

Jack and Maddie know Danny is phantom. The "threats" to shoot him? He's their son! They'd never! But they can't let him know that they know, so they keep up the act half heartedly. They realize their invention killed him. They realize everything they thought they knew about ghosts was wrong. But how do you say sorry to your kid if he isn't ready to forgive you? Especially if you've wronged him infathomably. You don't. You love him unconditionally; and you live each day with him as the gift it is. And you keep his secret, even from him. You fight infathomable and terrifying monsters each night, over and over, praying that once they're gone he can sleep safely. If he ever wants to forgive you, he'll tell you; when he's ready. And if he can't? You live with what you've done, regret and greif forever seered into your soul. You know he is loved and cared for. He is protected. To you, that's all that matters.

#good parents jack and maddie #danny phantom #dp x dc #batpham

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riality-check · 10 months

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riiaaa!! for the 100 ways to say i love you prompts, #1 and steddie please!!

(this is also very late, but here we go!)

"Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"Steve."

"Mhm."

"Steve."

"Yeah?"

"You're gonna drive us off the road."

"I'm fine," Steve says, and Eddie watches from the passenger seat as the car moves a full two feet onto the shoulder.

And people have the nerve to criticize his driving.

"Yeah, no," Eddie says. "Pull over, let me drive for a while."

"I got it," Steve says, a mid-sentence yawn ruins his credibility.

Eddie sighs. Steve is more than just a good dude; he's become one of Eddie's closest friends over the past few months, thank you, trauma bonding. But even though Steve Harrington is a good person, he's exceptionally stubborn when he wants to be, and driving his Beemer is the most stubborn he ever gets.

Seriously, though? He needs to sleep. He's gonna get them hurt otherwise.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, and where that came from, he's going to blame on the sleep deprivation, "please. I promise I won't scratch your car."

Steve straightens up at that. Sneaks a glance at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Relaxes his grip on the wheel.

"Okay," he says, and he puts his blinker on, pulls onto the shoulder. "Yeah, you can drive."

Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief as they switch seats. He's lucky he and Steve are the same size, nearly; he doesn't have to adjust the seat or the mirrors.

He glances at Steve, just to make sure he's settled, before he shifts the car into gear and gets them back on the road toward Hawkins.

Move in was a success all around. First Nancy, in Boston, then Jonathan in New York, then Robin in Philadelphia. Steve and Eddie had nothing else to do, the gas money to spare, and a want to help out. Taking the Beemer seemed stupid until Eddie was reminded by everyone, less than nicely, that the van would fall apart on a drive to Indy, nevermind to three different cities on the East Coast.

They fit less boxes, but at least they made the journey without breaking down.

And now they're on their way back, at nearly midnight with four hours left to go, because it makes more sense to drive than to find an affordable hotel that's not a shithole in Philadelphia.

"This is weird," Steve mumbles.

"What is?"

"Letting someone else drive my car," he explains. "Last time, I was concussed, and Max almost drove us into a telephone pole."

"Mayfield?"

"Yeah, back in '84. Hargrove beat the shit out of me so bad I could barely think, the kids had to get somewhere, and she was the only one who knew at least a little about how to drive."

Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Everything I learn about you is weirder and weirder."

"I didn't even tell you the worst part."

"Which is?"

"I was so out of it, I thought Mike was Nancy."

Eddie cackles, wiping the tears from his eyes as he continues to drive. Thank god no else is on the road.

"They don't even look alike," he wheezes.

"In my defense," Steve says with a smile, "I did have brain damage."

"Past tense?"

Steve punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole."

Eddie rubs over the spot with one hand and keeps driving with the other. It's nice, this time of night. No one on the road, warm enough to have the windows cracked in the pitch black. Music playing loud enough to hear but low enough to have a conversation over.

It helps that Steve's rich-boy car drives smoother than anything else Eddie's been behind the wheel of, and Eddie's been behind a lot of different wheels in his life.

"Thanks," Steve says after a little while.

"For what?"

"Driving."

"Of course," Eddie says, because he means it. Of course he'd drive when Steve can't. It's what you do for the people you-

Eddie looks over at Steve. He's kicked his shoes off and scrunched his knees to his chest on the passenger seat. He's curled up, toward Eddie, with his hair fanned out and his cheek squished against his knee, eyes closed. The streetlights, as they race by them, cast his skin in varying shades of silver and gold, highlighting the contrast of his freckles.

-love.

Eddie's doing this because it's what he does for the people he loves.

It's a quieter realization than he expected. Eddie has loved a lot of people like he loves Wayne and his friends, but he's never been in love before. He thought it would be an all-consuming, heart-racing crash, a collision bringing fire and constriction, needing the jaws of life to pull him out.

This isn't like that. This is liking being a little kid, jumping off the couch, and knowing someone is waiting at the bottom to catch him. There's the feeling of danger, sure, but he knows what's at the bottom.

He wonders how long he's known. Long enough for that love, the love he has for Steve, to be something comfortable and warm in his chest.

Steve's hand rests on the space between them, palm up, outstretched. Eddie takes it and squeezes it.

And, though Steve is surely asleep, he thinks he might squeeze back.

Prompts here.

#ria writes #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steddie ficlet #fluff #asked and answered #stevethehairington #thanks for asking!!

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cloudsmateria · 22 days

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that one summer in 2003 - leon kennedy x reader

im planning on continuing this, but this is just a short start.

words: 939

basically i was thinking, what if leon kennedy ended up with an avoidant attachment after everything he went through? which is a reasonable conclusion as he never ended up with anyone, and couldn't go for claire because he had an avoidant attachment (or just couldn't get ahold of ada).

it would be perfectly reasonable to suggest that he had an avoidant attachment or for him to have ended up with one after both his parents died due to gang violence and now he works in an incredibly violent job where people he knows and is close to die around him all the time.

AND his fucking ex gf left him (one that he really loved since he was fucking drinking all night because of it and the consequences of that were mad since he had to experience raccoon city which fucked up his whole life). Ada pretended to kill herself in front of him after they started something and for years he thought she died.

he would be scared of whoever he's interested in getting hurt because they're involved with him, or just innately scared of losing them after everyone else. so i just thought it would be cute to write a little prologue about a romance w an avoidant leon kennedy.

i would love to see more fics w an avoidant leon kennedy

Leaning against his shoulder, both at the top of the edge of a cliff, the sun just starting to set. He took another sip of his beer, passing it to you. This was a common weekend since the start of summer, finding some music festival or a nice beach to camp in.

"So, where's the party tonight?" He asked, the breeze pushing back his hair.

"The city. Jill's friend's birthday, and she's rich." You answered.

"Is that the one you want to go to?"

"Not today, I like us like this."

You heard him laugh quietly. "Adorable."

You smiled, leaning your head on his arm, his hands wrapping around you. "I hope this never changes."

He kissed the top of your head. "I'm glad we did this."

"Getting drunk and looking at the ocean?"

"Looking at you… And other things." He whispered into your ear, making you laugh.

"Like what, hmm? Kissing you?"

"A bit more than that."

You had no idea how you ended up with Leon. You had no idea why he chose you. He was so out of your league but in your friend group that you couldn't even have a crush on him because it was certain that it would never work out, but he was an easy friend. Freakishly easy to speak to, although slightly edgy and relatable. Everyone loved him. Even worse, he was attractive and good at everything he did. Any time he was around people were laughing, someone would always choke on their laughter when he was there.

Although you knew you were at least one of his favourite friends, always passively trying to be in your group when it came to group events, although you didn't realise it was because he liked you until you started speaking. The competition between you was palpable, everyone loved watching you both fight at every competitive night out. Rock climbing? Laser tag? Kayaks? Sandcastles? Somehow you both managed to make it competitive. For 4 years you kept that type of friendship until you broke up with your boyfriend at the end of spring.

It was raining that night, walking home from the karaoke bar since this time your houses were in the same direction. He gave you his jacket, although you didn't think twice about it. From there, it was more natural for you both to speak one-on-one and then you made plans without the others... You thought it was friendly, again, why would he pick you? You knew he had a line of girls for him in his other groups. In fact, it took him a week of flirting for you to realise that he was actually trying to be romantic and not trying to make a joke. Swept off your feet in a heartbeat, he came out of nowhere. How stupid.

And after that week, he asked.

"Are you sure about this?"

"About what?"

"Doing this. Us."

"I don't think I've ever liked anyone this much." Instead of what usually would've gotten a laugh, he nodded with what was almost a grimace.

"I need to warn you before this goes anywhere."

"Okay."

"When I get close to people, I get distant. I can't do anything about it. It just happens, I try to stop it, but all I can do is warn you."

"That's fine."

"I don't want to hurt you, especially not you."

"What about me?"

"You're kind, not like the other girls I've met, you don't deserve that."

"Why would you hurt me?"

"I just have a bad feeling."

"I would give you space if you needed it."

"That’s not the problem. But can we do this but not put a label on it? We'll be exclusive, act like a couple, but not a label." In your head, that was a relationship. You were screaming inside, he finally asked.

"Can I ask why?"

"If there weren’t a label, maybe I wouldn’t get distant since it’s not official. Every time I’ve been in a relationship it hasn’t ended well, I’m scared of getting too close and people leaving me."

"I wouldn't do that."

"I know but it's just a gut feeling when I get close to people." He never went into detail but some of his self-deprecating jokes made it clear, at least to you that his life was fucked. You knew he struggled to get too close as even when a conversation about the death of someone close came up when you needed to let it out, he immediately shut it down, changing the subject without making it awkward. He was uncomfortable with all that personal baggage, his own, and everyone else's. You wished you were that socially adept to so casually manipulate a conversation. 'I can fix him' was the only thing you were thinking of, the only red flags you saw were heart-shaped. Two fucked up people would be perfect for each other.

"Let's do it."

Bit by bit, he gave you tiny fragments of the shitty parts of his life, not enough to know what had happened to him at all, but to know that he was depressed although you couldn't believe it from how lively he was. You knew that the years of his life since he was a child were full of despair although you never knew why. He was a rebellious boy, getting into fights, and substance abuse, and he was trying to leave it behind. All of the mystery just drew you in further. He was all you could think about, gushing at even the thought of him, checking your phone every 3 seconds even though you knew he couldn't have messaged that fast.

No one knew about it in your group as it just never came up, and you both spending a lot of time together was normal. The little glances and comments at each other kept it exhilarating, sometimes his hand would rest on your thigh at dinners which made you go silent.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon scott kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4xreader #avoidant leon kennedy #angst

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eryiss · 3 months

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[Fraxus] Multifaceted- Part 3

Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them

Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much… Note: Chapter Three, perhaps the most self indulgent of them all. If you want to see Freed's performance, it’s inspired by This Video. Hope you enjoy.

Links: Ao3, Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

3: Dancing

"I can dance, if that helps."

Freed had said it so impassively that the team had almost dismissed it. They knew Freed could dance - he'd been the only one able to lead Erza in a waltz after all - but there was a difference between holding your own in a ballroom and contending with the cast of the Royal Fiore Ballet Society.

Laxus almost had ignored him, but the words lingered. Freed was a cocky son of a bitch at times, but he did know his skills and wasn't the type to brag needlessly when a mission was involved. If he had mentioned it during planning, then he had a reason.

The guild had been contacted by the Ballet Society. Their chairman had been sent a slew of threats by a supposed auditionee who had been rejected and wanted revenge. Initially the society had dismissed them, but the threats started to become more and more specific, and had been narrowed down to one specific night. Apparently on the final night of its first week, the show would 'suffer something it would never come back from'. Fairy Tail had taken the job, and the Raijinshuu had been tasked with keeping the piece on the night.

Bickslow was patrolling the theatre, acting as one of their security. Laxus and Evergreen were playing the rich, young couple on a night out. Freed was on stage. Dancing.

"You look nervous," Ever commented, leaning in as if sharing a quiet flirtation. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Laxus dismissed.

"Tell me," Evergreen pushed, looking over the small bar they'd been directed to before the show began.

"Forget it," Laxus tried again, and Ever's glare cowed him. "It's just, this sounds so stupid, but I'm nervous for him. I want him to do well. Don't want him to mess up."

"I get that. But he'll be fine; they made him audition, had him rehearse for five weeks, and gave him the most complex role in the show. They're confident he's good," Ever slipped a finger into the buttons of Laxus' tux, tugging him closer and pecking a kiss on his lips. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed during a mission - often they played the couple when needed - but it always felt weird. She then moved to press a kiss to his jaw, which was followed by a whisper. "But he better not be too good; lord knows you don't need anything else to moon over."

"What's that mean?" Laxus demanded, pulling back.

"'Oh, he's such a good chef. He cooks for me every night. He could work in any restaurant in the city.' Blah," she forced a wince, but the mischief in her eyes shone. "And then of course there's the lightning bolt you won't let out of your sight. Except on missions. Where d'you put it again? In a safe deposit box?"

"The bedside table," Laxus grunted.

"Ah yes, the bedside table you share with Freed, which I suspect is next to the bed you share with Freed."

"We don't share it that way. We alternate."

"For now," Evergreen teased.

Laxus didn't have a response to that, for two reasons. One - the main one really - was that the small bell rang and they were called to take their seats. The second reason was that, if he kept up this conversation, he might let it slip where his crochet actually was. Because, rather than tucking it away in the bedside table, he'd taken it on the job and bashfully handed it to Freed, pathetically explaining that maybe it would bring him some luck.

Dammit, Freed had smiled at him and taken it. Why the hell was he smiling so much since they got back? He had to know what it did to the people who saw it. The squirmy, messy feeling that it evoked. He was doing it on purpose, just to mess with people. Sadistic bastard!

Once seated, the show took a little while to start up, and Freed did not show up for the first act. This was expected. His role, though technically demanding, was only in one scene. It worked well for the mission, allowing Freed to have a near uninhibited run of the backstage without having to flitter between being on stage and not. His role was also seen as one of the most important parts in the show, and likely when an attack might take place, so he would be in the middle of things should they go wrong. It had worked out rather well.

Laxus had almost relaxed into his mission mindset, looking anywhere and everywhere for signs of attack, by the time Freed showed up. When he did, Laxus' jaw almost dropped.

Freed looked magnificent. Insane, yet magnificent.

The show was Alice in Wonderland, and Freed played the Mad Hatter. In a pastel shaded suit and tailcoat, and a ramshackled tophat, he sprung from behind a curtain, twirling the hat around. His hair had been dyed: green turned to white, which turned to a shower of faded pink. His expressions were that of a constrained, manic madness. His movements were fluid yet sharp, well practised and perfected.

With every fast step, the soles of his shoes rang through the theatre in sharp taps. The dance was a blending of ballet and tap, something even the best of dancers struggled with, and Freed made it look easy.

Oh, god. The way he moved his hips, without warning nor need. Could he always move like this? Was the mad hatter meant to be a seductive character? Surely not.

The dance moved on faster than Laxus could take it in. There were three other dancers on stage alongside Freed, and yet Laxus couldn't take his eyes off him, no matter who the focus was meant to be on. He was just so majestic. So relentless. So good.

He spun another dancer around, holding her far too close then letting her slide below his legs. Then he spun her away and was on his own again. Another dancer took hold of him, and in a moment his leg was extended so high that his foot was above his head, Laxus shifted in his seat. Freed was flexible enough to make that look simple, and Laxus felt the slightest stirring at that revelation.

Dammit, did they have to make the pants so snug? Laxus could see where his thick thighs ended and the curve of his ass began anytime the tails of the coat flew up.

Far too soon, it was only him on stage. With the spotlight on him and the music nearing its conclusion, he spun on his foot, managing at least ten twirls in three seconds. His tailcoat and his hair swirled around him, beautiful and magical. He was a seductive lure as the song reached crescendo. He struck a pose, then left the stage with exaggerated movements entirely in character for the person he'd been playing.

"Wow," Evergreen whispered.

"Damn," Laxus agreed, because no other words came to mind.

——

Laxus met Freed at the stage door, after the rest of the cast had gone.

The mission had been a success, even if Laxus had entirely forgotten about it the moment Freed had stepped on stage. Thankfully, Bickslow had managed to remain professional, hunted down the wannabe attacker, hypnotised him before he could do anything, and marched him off to the local police station and forced him to confess. All this had been explained in a Lacrima message, which ended with an instruction to enjoy the rest of the show. Laxus and Ever had done so, and once it had been done, Ever promised to sort everything out so Laxus could meet up with Freed.

Well, she'd actually said she'd done it so Laxus could 'pathetically moon over Freed like a love stick moron' in person, but Laxus had resolutely ignored that and took the excuse to offer congratulations to his friend.

Freed had been magnificent. There were no other words. After Freed's dance, Laxus had taken more care in watching the rest of the show, and it was filled with flawless performers. Freed hadn't once felt out of place. He had earned his place in the show even if he hadn't obtained it in typical means.

"Oh," Freed halted slightly as he left the building and saw Laxus waiting for him. "I expected you'd be gone by now."

"You kidding me?" Laxus scoffed, then looked Freed up and down. He was in more normal clothes, and if it weren't for his still dyed hair, he'd look no different than normal. But Laxus saw an almost entirely different man. A man who had always been there, but laxus hadn't seen. Or hadn't been looking for. "Freed, that was…"

"I was out of time once or twice, and my leg work was sloppy for the first thirty or so seconds," Freed filled the gap Laxus' wordlessness had caused. "I could blame it on being vigilant of the crowd, but I just lost the beat."

"Freed you were fuckin' incredible," Laxus snapped. "You had five weeks to train and you held your own against people who've worked their whole lives for this. Be arrogant about this. You deserve it."

Freed smiled a little. "They did make a comment that they might contact me should their regular Hatter actually fall ill. Jesting, I'm sure."

Laxus was no judge of dance skill, but he had a feeling that wasn't a joke as much as it was them trying to suss out Freed's reaction to the chance of dancing more often. "If they call you, say yes," He demanded, and Freed laughed. "Promise me."

"Laxus-"

"Promise me, asshole. You clearly enjoyed doing it, and they'd be lucky to have you, so promise me."

"Fine, if the most prestigious dance company in the country wants my help, I'll do it."

"Good, I'm gonna hold you to that," Laxus huffed slightly, then jerked his head towards the Main Street. Freed dutifully walked the few steps down so he was side by side with Laxus. They walked for about three minutes before Laxus halted and glared at Freed. "I mean, when the hell are you gonna tell me how you know how to do any of that? Because it's been nearly two months and I'm starting to get pissy that I don't know."

"That only makes me more inclined not to tell you," Freed hummed. Laxus didn't let his glare up, and Freed averted his gaze. "You left your headphones when you were removed from the guild. They were at my house, I don't remember why. I had a lot of time alone - I didn't take jobs in the early days; I felt like I was taking them from more serving people, you see - so I started to listen to the songs you had saved. I had a lot of energy as I wasn't working, and one way to get it out was to listen to some music and start dancing. There was no skill to it, of course. I'm not going to pretend bobbing around the house led to that," he gestured to the theatre. "But, I enjoyed moving in that way, and found a few books on dancing, and started to practise."

"You're telling me that you can go toe to toe with the most talented people in their field because you read a couple of books on dancing?" Laxus laughed, because with anyone else that would be as ridiculous as it sounded.

"I've always been fastidious with reading," Freed shrugged. "Although, the five weeks of intensive training might have helped, just a smidge."

"You think?"

"As I say, just a smidge," Freed smiled, and Laxus pushed him to the side. Freed staggered slightly, but it was all too easy to pair the laughing man beside him with the dance aficionado from earlier.

"You're one of a kind Freed," Laxus said as he wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders. Freed let him. "One of a fucking kind."

#Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #multichapter #canon compliant #Word Count: 2k

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acourtofthought · 1 year

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💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

"if they're blessed" ⬆️⬇️

"they'll find their mate"

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

"their equal, their match in every way"

And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her.

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.

“The new Amren is even crankier than the old one,” Elain said softly.

And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

But I tried to smile, if only for Elain, who flitted about the room, personally greeting each guest and dancing with all their important sons.

He assured me that he hated the gatherings as much as I did, and that Lucien was the only one who really enjoyed himself.

Elain cut her a look. “This house has needed a woman’s touch for years.”

Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.

Nesta and I climbed inside one of the supply caravan’s covered wagons to change into Illyrian fighting leathers. Elain … She’d taken one look at us in the swaying grasses outside that wagon, the legs and assets on display, and turned crimson. Viviane stepped in, offering a Winter Court fashion that was far less scandalous: leather pants, but paired with a thigh-length blue surcoat, white fur trimming the collar. In the heat, it’d be miserable, but Elain was thankful enough that she didn’t complain

But Tamlin’s attention had gone to the clothes Lucien now wore. The Illyrian leathers. He might as well have been wearing Night Court black. It was an effort to keep my mouth shut, to not explain that Lucien didn’t have any other clothes with him, and that they weren’t a sign of his allegiance—

“I asked Nuala to do it in that order,” Elain said as the others gathered round. “Because you’re the foundation, the one who lifts us. You always have been.”

“You are a better friend to me, Feyre,” he said quietly, “than I ever was to you.”

Before I could turn back, Elain threw her arms around me. I did not remember when I began to cry as I felt those slender arms hold me, tight as steel.

He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back, and I calmed my weeping,

My sisters were shrieking over their gags. But Elain’s cry—a warning. A warning to—

Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”

From SJM herself: "That reminds me! Lucien and Elain would go to London and tour through the gardens before making their way to the countryside. They are pretty much happy to be out in nature the most."

Lucien eventually stopped at a jade stream wending through a granite-flanked gully, a spot he claimed had once been rich with trout. I was in the process of constructing a rudimentary fishing pole when he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. He’d tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where I’d been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine.

Nesta hid the devastation well. The frustration. “What can I get you, Elain?” Only with Elain did she use that voice. But Elain shook her head once more. “Sunshine.”

Lucin snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

The sun personified.

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #elain x lucien #lucien and elain #pro lucien vanserra #elain and lucien #pro elain archeron #elucien supremacy #They are so ridiculously well matched #Could SJM be making it any more obvious how perfect they'll be together after their #tension and healing?

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heliosthegriffin · 6 months

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Shadow Knight: Arc 1 - Epilogue

Ao3 Link

_______

A man of average height and build walked out before a podium. He was a handsome man in a sort of princely-manner, with sharp well-developed features. His hair was dull red-brown and neatly combed back, his eyes were sharp and piercing green. He dressed well, in a nice dark suit with a grey tie, and his general appearance yelled out to the world that he was not only old money, but of aristocratic heritage.

Now, while the nobility was dismantled, following The Great War, across Remnant, which was not helped by the fact said nobles ended dying in mass for a variety of reason, a handful of family survived not only intact, but thrived following the Breakdown (the removal of noble privileges and ruling).

The LaCroix family is one of those few family's, that managed this feat, and integrated themselves into Vale's politics like a tick stuck fiercely to the neck of cattle.

Sebastian LaCroix was the heir to the family, the so-called 'Prince of Vale', and a prominent councilman in recent years.

Trailing behind him, like a lumbering shadow, an enormous albino man easily reaching 8-feet tall. He simply went by the name of the 'Sheriff', no one was brave enough to ask why, as anybody who looked into him tended to go missing.

Tapping the podium, Councilor LaCroix raised a hand letting the public know he was ready for questions. He pointed towards the back to a reporter.

"Councilman LaCroix! What do you intend to do to address the concerns of vigilantism in the streets, as it grows in number?"

"What vigilantism? It's just the same old ruffians as always, they're harmless, and will only be dealt with when they're breaking the law. Vale PD's time is better spent on actual problems, next?"

"Speaking of which, how do you intent to help against the crime wave that hit the city, recently? Millions of Lien of product stolen, and millions more in damages!"

"I am not a liberty to say at the moment, but know it is being dealt with by consummate professional behind the scenes. Vale has it's citizen best interest in mind, so it's putting the cities best minds at work to solve the problem. Next."

"Mr. LaCroix, what do you say to the dissidents that claim Vale's News network is being suppressed by the city?"

"That the City has it's citizen best interest in mind, even if some claim otherwise. If you can't find information, even if you imagine it was there, it was just not there. People misremember events all the time, daydreams, nightmares, collective hallucinations. Vale may be a rich city," He chuckles. "But, it is not so rich to have the luxury, or interest, in controlling what it's lovely people know."

LaCroix looks at a very expensive wrist-watch. "I'm afraid I only have time for one more question... Oh, you there, yes you."

"Why won't the City respond to inquires about lights flying over the sky at night, reports of large animals stalking the street, or recognizing the Shadow Knight?"

LaCroix, for a micro-second, scowled, before putting on a PR-friendly smile. "Security, remove him. He's clearly trying to make trouble." He turned to the crowd with a sigh. "Well, I'm afraid that's all I have time, remember, LaCroix is a man of Vale, for Vale. I represent your interests. Good-day."

----

River Songs stared at his Scroll watching LaCroix walk off, and the man scowled. He just watch the councilman gaslight a entire city.

He knew what he saw! He knew what had happened that night, as much as he wished he could forget. He had met The Knight himself, for fucks sake! He had seen that Monster! He had ... Let one of his best friends die, while he cowered in fear.

And, this son of bitch, in his ten thousand Lien suit comes up and has the fucking balls to say it never happen?! Fuck him, his family, and his fucked looking bodyguard!

Disliking the feed, he put away his scroll, grabbed a duffel-bag and left his apartment. Night was falling and he had places to be, and people to meet up with.

The last couple days had been a hell, a complete and utter hell, one he would live in until he died. River had thought he experienced pain before. He was wrong.

Regret, lost, it hits you in a way that made you replay everything you could have done, all the different paths in life you could have taken to not ended up where you were now, and how easily prevented able it was. That wasn't a pain you got used too, it was one you lived with.

Garth's death was ruled as a accident, and would not be looked into anymore. How the fuck do you look at a corpse that has been clearly been trampled to death, and go 'It looks like he tripped. Case close.' ? It made River want to scream.

His own account was deemed 'Trauma induced hysteria' and promptly thrown away. The police, the protectors of the city, they were worse than useless. The whole event sunk to high-heavens, the cops weren't even surprised by the site, they just looked at with a jaded, cold look. They had seen this shit before, and they did not care one little bit.

River couldn't even look his other long-time friends in the face-anymore, the idea he might abandon them too always looming over his shoulder. He couldn't look at Garth's family without remembering that night, of how he let his old-friend die in such a horrible way. He couldn't even go to sleep without seeing those baleful red eyes, and blood everywhere.

He only took comfort in one thing anymore. In one person anymore.

Walking to the meeting spot, he found a secluded spot and took out a welding mask and put it on. He paused before entering alley, taking a hunting rifle from his duffel-bag, then tossing the bag over his shoulder. Entering the alleyway, four similarly dressed men and women were there waiting, night just about to fall.

He had met others, others who had events like him. People who had also been saved. But still carried the scars of they're encounter with those ... monsters. LaCroix said if you could find something, you must have imagined it. River said bullshit to that, you just had to look harder.

He looked night and day for answers, before finding in the darkest corners of the online world people like him, hundreds of stories like his, survivors of events like him, all carrying pain like him. All looking for a outlet like him.

They didn't have a official name, but they all followed the same man.

The Shadow Knight.

As far as River's was concerned, they didn't need one. He was they're Protector, they're Shepard, and, dare he say, Lord, as they followed his banner that he unknowingly let unfurl over the site of each of his victories. They were his soldiers, and River's knew he wasn't alone in this opinion, they ceased to live they're own lives now, as the Knight had saved them, and they all owed him a life debt.

Whether he wanted it, or not. He was what they had left to believe in. If a the Kingdom and it's servants would not protect them, why serve them, when they could follow someone who would? One that asked nothing for his protection. What better King than one know protects and serves, one that does so without one even needing to ask for it?

Now masked, he no-longer had a name, but he nodded at his fellows, they said nothing only nodding in return. Then they headed out as a group, another night would pass, not all of them might live, but they would fight as they're Knight did, if it would do the world the least bit more good.

-----

"What a fucking mess." Ivan Isaac looked at the state of the docks, he was just a janitor, and not a very well-paid one at that. Especially not paid well enough to clean up the mess that had been left after ... whatever the fuck happened last night.

It looked like two trains had a love-making session, then crawled into the sea in shame. Ivan wasn't even sure why he came in tonight there was fuck all he could do to help this. He was good at his job, but he was not a construction crew.

A nights pay, is a nights pay, and while his job was shit, it paid as long as he was here, even if he didn't do much. Perks of a night-shift, he supposed.

He patted his pocket walking over to look at lapping waves on the pier, it was beautiful night tonight, moon wasn't out though, but plenty starry.

Ivan sighed, realizing that his cigarette were not in his pocket, and he couldn't afford another pack, unless he wanted to go hungry till payday. He watched the waves lap, and focused on what looked like driftwood float on towards him, a big, thick log floating in the waves.

"Need a fix?" A coy voice asked him, and Ivan looked to his side, seeing a young man that he hadn't noticed till now, odd considering he was sure no one was out here beside him. He was wearing a dark-tracksuit, silver hair, grey eyes, a relaxed look on his face.

He wasn't looking at him though, he was also focused on the driftwood, but in his hand, he was offering him a pack of cigarette, the good shit too, the kind he only bought every blue moon.

Ivan didn't hesitate though, he needed a fix, but he'd make sure to stretch it till he could get home. Though, this would ruin him, as he'd have to go back to his cheap-crap when he got home.

Still, he lit up a smoke with glee. "Thanks, boy."

"No prob, pops."

"Not that old, but I'll let it slide."

"Thought so,"

"What brings you around here, not much do out here, looking for a job? Though, considering your tastes," Ivan gestured to the pack. "I doubt a job our here would pay well enough."

The young man looked at him oddly. "Money's not a issue for me, I'm just out here to meet people."

"Looking to meet people?" Ivan was curious, he hadn't met some kind of drug runner, had he? "Not going to get to know many people at this time of night, or at least here."

He laughed. "Well funny you mention that, I know everyone, and I meet everyone, it's just this is the only time they get to meet me."

Ivan looked at the boy. Was he high? Not that he was one to judge. "Thanks for the smokes."

"A man should be able to enjoy some comfort in his last moments."

Ivan turned to look at the unknown boy. "What the hel-" Ivan didn't get to finish those words, nor would he even get too. A pair of jaws that could have wrapped around a water-buffalo caught him at the waist, as what had appeared to be a log drifting to the docks was something much more primal.

Ivan had a moment to let out a gasp of air under the titanic weight of it's jaws, the gasp of air, it held all the terror of a man about to die. The young man watched calmly, expectantly as this happened. The beast ignored him entirely, it's yellow-green eyes focusing only on it's prey.

Then as quickly as it had caught him, they both sank under the waves, no evidence neither had been there. The young man watched, not even bubbles or blood rose up, this was one of the most skilled killers he had witnessed, which was saying something considering his profession.

He shook his head, then walked away. "I'll be there where you slip up, though." He pondered on a certain human, humming. "You too, I wonder when, though?" Then sauntered off, another appointment schedule for tonight.

----

'Ring-a-Ling'

The door opened to the bookstore, and a huge faunus lumbered in.

"Morning, Gustav, how was your night?" The book-seller asked him.

Gustav nodded to him. "It was fine, got the latest edition?"

"Yep. Ha, one day, you'll have to switch over to using your scroll for new, you know that right? I can't stay in business for ever, I'm getting old!"

Gustav chuckled. "I'm in my seventies and still working, take a page out of my book, would you? My children are ready for me to move in, but I'm not ready to give it up, yet."

The seller laughed. "Yeah, I guess I should." He handed over the paper.

"Much obliged." Gustav flipped over to the latest report, another murder at the docks. No leads. The body so mangled, that it was only considered to be the missing janitor, Ivan Isaacs.

He waved to goodbye to his longtime friend, going home. Taking the paper with him. Gustav Niles did well for himself, he had been married, had children, was a doting grandfather, and managed to own his own home.

He liked to think he did alright for a old faunus.

Going down to his basement, he went into secret room. It was full of cut-out newspaper clips, all detailing murders at the dock, going as far back as sixty years, the same time he started there.

He cut out another page, and put it up on the wall. Then took out something, a half-finished cigarette, he put in on the wall too. All the other newspapers also had little trophies like that underneath them.

He smiled. He still hunted pretty well for a old faunus.

#jaune arc #fanfic

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whumpflash · 11 months

Text

Acacia Aneura: On and Up

cw: noncon drugging, beating aftermath, slavery/captivity, branding, briefly mentioned noncon

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

×××

Most scavs were loners at heart, and Judd was no exception. He had friends back at the camp, sure. They'd swap tips, share tools, maybe even split a haul if someone came up empty handed. But not a single one would stick their neck out for him. Judd didn't expect them to. He sure as hell wouldn't do it for them, not if he could get away scott-free.

So why the fuck had Skye come back for him?

The thought burned away at his skull, dancing the fucking two-step with the bitter dismay of his failure to escape.

Judd and Skye were each fitted with heavy restraints, courtesy of the slaver's market; an apology to the buyer for the hassle the pair had caused. The man saw fit to drug them both for the ride as well, pinching Judd's nose and forcing his jaw apart when he tried to fight it. Not Compliance, but something thick and bitter that leadened his limbs and made him drowsy. The two captives were tossed into a storage compartment in the back of the buyer's transport, and locked inside.

Judd tried to reposition himself in a way that didn't put too much pressure on his bound arms, grimacing as the compartment began to rumble with the start of the vehicle's motor. This was it, then. He was about to disappear from the wastes, maybe forever.

As shitty and brutal as the desert could be, it was still his home, and the fear of leaving it all behind overpowered the heavy pull of the drug, keeping him from slipping under.

Beside him, he could feel Skye struggling into a better position. There was hardly any room to move between the two of them, and by the time he stopped his squirming, he was leaning heavy on Judd. Any other circumstance, he would've shoved the other man away. Cussed him out. But the drug and his throbbing head and the feeling that he owed the older man something, kept him silent.

For some reason, he was caught by surprise when Skye spoke.

"Listen close, bully," he mumbled, his words coming out half-slurred. "Man who has us is very rich, and he came down to the market himself. Hand-picked you." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "Means he has a purpose already in mind for you. Likely either as a pit fighter or a pet."

"Pet?" Judd repeated.

"Bedslave," Skye replied, confirming what Judd already knew, and intensifying the sinking feeling in his stomach.

He clenched his jaw, willing the feeling away. It didn't have to happen. He could still escape.

But even as he thought it, he knew how pointless that hope was.

"What about you?" he asked.

The older man shrugged against him. "I'm an afterthought. Pits or labor. Doesn't matter." His voice sharpened. "You need to get him to make you a fighter. Don't know if that's what he's already got planned, but if it's not, you need to change his mind."

Judd scowled, despite knowing Skye couldn't see it. "What difference does it make? Still a slave either way."

"Fighters need to put on a show," Skye said, suppressing a wince as he shifted again. "They escape the drugs, the Compliance, at least when they're getting ready for a match. They get to train. It's your best chance at escape."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"The better your chances, the less I have to worry about you."

Judd grunted, pressing his cheek against the metal inner wall of the transport. "You should've just fucking ran," he said in a near-whisper.

"That's where you're wrong," Skye replied. "I couldn't be responsible for a fellow scav losing his freedom."

"Now you're responsible for two."

Skye had no response for that. Judd pushed further into the wall, until the pressure on his face built to something almost painful, biting past the dragging effects of the drug. He was going about this wrong, he knew. He was shackled, in the hands of a man who thought he could own him, on the way to a city that might as well be alien. He needed all the allies he could get.

"What about the kid?" Judd said, changing the subject. "Is he—?"

"She is miles away at our camp. Safe." The way he said it sounded almost sad. Resigned.

"What's going to happen to her if you're…" Judd bit the inside of his cheek. "With me?"

A sigh from Skye. "She… I told her not to come after me. Said if I was gone more than a week, to just move on."

"Just move on?"

"Hell knows if she'll listen or not." Affectionate. "Evyr'll be okay. She's a tough kid. She knows I wouldn't just leave her. That if I don't come back it's… it's because I can't."

Judd swallowed. "You said becoming a fighter's the best chance at escape. You think there is a chance then?"

"There's always a chance. Tough one, but scavs are tough. We can make it, but we gotta stick together best we can."

"Thought you said you don't wanna have to worry about me?"

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna leave you high and dry. Faster alone, further together, ever hear that saying?"

The transport suddenly stopped, metal shuddering and creaking. Judd flinched as an odd feeling spread over him, a drop in his stomach. Were they..?

"Don't panic," Skye mumbled. "It's the lifting mechanism. Moves transports up to the floating cities. Kind of like a… shit, y'don't know what an elevator is, do you?" He sighed. "It's taking us up. That's what's important."

"What about getting back down?"

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

Judd grunted in response. How the fuck did Skye know so much, anyway? How could he be so sure about any of this?

The odd drop in his stomach stopped before long, and soon after, the transport slowed. A pair of burly men, neither of them the buyer, threw open the door to the storage compartment and hefted its occupants out. Judd's legs gave out the moment he tried to put any weight on them, the drug's lingering effects rearing their ugly head.

They were in a small concrete bay, empty aside from the transport, and cold. They had air cooling units at Judd's camp, but they didn't offer much against the heat of the wastes, and were nothing compared to the chill of the room.

In the light, Skye was looking worse for the wear; blood drying on his lips, in his hair, one eye swelling shut. With the hits Judd had taken, he doubted he looked much better, and the pain and the cool air and the drug all combined to leave him shivering. No doubt the picture of a pathetic mess.

The buyer was climbing down from the passenger compartment of the transport, and it gave Judd some meager comfort to see that he was sporting a black eye.

"Where do you want them, Mr. Burke?" One of the burly men hefted him to his knees by the collar, and he winced as it dug into his already-bruised throat, adjusting his position so he could still fucking breathe.

"Have them processed and put in a holding cell," Burke responded, adjusting his shirt collar. "I still need to decide on a sufficient punishment." He disappeared through a shiny white door as soon as he finished spouting the instructions, and his goons hauled Judd and Skye roughly to their feet, pulling them to a second, significantly less shiny door.

It opened on a staircase that was somehow even colder than the bay room. Getting down it while chained and dizzy was no easy feat, but both men managed to reach the bottom without falling.

There was a hall, then another door, and another, and then they seemed to have reached their destination; yet another fucking concrete room.

Rubber tubes dangled from the ceiling, and below them, rows of metal drawers lined the walls. In one corner sat a squat furnace. If not for the absence of any parts, it'd look like the kind of repair bays Judd had seen in the grounded cities. A pretty well-equipped one at that.

The man holding Judd dragged him toward one of the hanging tubes, pulling the chain around his neck taut and attaching it to a hook above his head. Burke's goon grabbed the nearest tube and took a step back, angling it at Judd, who let out a strangled gasp as a jet of cold water came spurting out.

Somewhere behind him, he could hear the sound of tearing fabric, followed by protesting curses. Skye was getting the same treatment.

The stream of water soaked into his hair, drenched his skin, worsened his shivering. He watched as the red dust of the wastes washed off him, trickled into the drain.

So much water. A city luxury stealing what little he had left of his home. How stupid was he, to mourn for dust?

The man unhooked his collar and dragged him closer to the furnace. If nothing else, Judd was grateful for the slight heat coming from it, lessening the chill that gripped him. He felt the goon reach behind him, fastening his wrists to the wall.

"Don't move, or this will be a lot worse."

The other goon was hauling Skye over, attaching his restraints to another point in the wall to keep him in place as he reached towards the furnace, pulling out a long metal rod.

A choked, almost fearful sound escaped Skye, and only then did Judd realize what was about to happen. He thrashed, as if he were capable of breaking metal with something as weak as fear. The restraints dug painfully into his wrists.

"Shit— shit, no, don't—!"

"Hold him."

A hand closed around the back of his collar, yanking his head back, better exposing his chest.

Judd cursed as the red-hot iron came closer to him, too panicked to make out the outline of whatever it was they were about to brand him with. He tried again to jerk away, but the man holding him gripped the collar tighter, cutting off his air.

The metal seared into his skin, right below his collarbone, and his scream came out strangled, warped by the pressure on his throat.

Vision white, dizzy from the drug and the pain and the lack of air, Judd's legs buckled. The goon holding his collar caught him, wrapping an arm around his waist and propping him up.

The smell of his own burning flesh was like cooking meat, and it sickened him that it made him feel almost hungry, of all things.

Judd blinked away tears, breathing through clenched teeth as he waited for the pain to ebb, even just a little.

Across from him, Skye's head was hung as the man with the iron approached him, the burning brand in his grip.

The older man didn't try to struggle or curse. He didn't even look up.

But he still let out a blood-curdling scream as the iron pressed into his skin.

When it came away, leaving Skye panting, though still upright, it left behind a bright red circle with a pair of B's in it, mirroring each other, as if to form the outline of a butterfly.

They did Skye's on the right side, not over his heart like Judd's, and when he squinted through blurry vision he could see why.

Over Skye's heart, below his collarbone, was a different mark. An encircled pair of X's, one overlapping the other.

Another brand.

×××

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles

#dun dun dunnn #acacia aneura #whump writing #judd harlow #post apocalyptic #apocalypse whump #slavery tw #branding #tw noncon drugging #manhandling #collar whump #tw choking #noncon strip #older whumpee #multiple whumpees #carewhumpee

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tobiasdrake · 5 months

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Alright. Jogging down the street, take 3. This time, no distractions. We're gonna sprint from point B to point A, so called because point B is where we begin Plan B and point A is where we begin Plan A.

I know. It's fucking weird. Have you ever tried measuring how probabilistic physics react under the influence of your time rewind? I think the d6 is landing on different values when it falls.

NO DISTRACTIONS!

I mean... unless we wanted to find out our lucky number....

Oh fine, I'll behave. Do you have the stamina for the jog, though?

Well, that's convenient. We might be able to get there right as the body comes down, and have him crash onto the car!

Let's GO!

Yeah, that's about what I thought. Fortunately, we may have saved his life. Hollywood movies have taught me that cars are ultra-soft and landing on one from any height means guaranteed survival.

...the fucking d6 is on the hood in front of his face. It's probably a different value again but this doesn't count as a test of probabilistic physics under time-rewind. We've changed the surrounding circumstances too much. It corrupts the test.

Trying to get his attention but all he cares about is the die. Pretty sure that's a 4, by the way.

Bullshit, that is a four.

It's weird that it's a four. We can see the three facing us, so the four should be facing the opposite direction. All opposing sides of a d6 add to 7. But it is a four facing up. Maybe the one is on the side facing him, rather than the top?

Ha! I knew it! Hollywood physics never fail! I guess you could say it sure was lucky that we found this taxicab, wasn't it?

We have saved a life. ^_^ All in a day's work for Fubuki Clockford, Master Detective.

:D Protective rainclouds and roses. I guess this means we've closed the book on this case. Nothing more to see here!

Oh shit, we actually left. XD Who cares about the finer details like why he fell. Guy lived! Job's done! This was a Lucky Day miracle.

Oh, I'm sure we can trust the corporate shills down at Kanai Ward's finest propaganda machine to report only the truth. No reason to let these good vibes go to waste.

That's because it was counting down to when he'd be saved! The d6 knew his fate.

Hmm... and who do we know that reads fates....

The Fortune Teller! If she's in on it, then she could have given the victim a divining die! Perhaps that's why she was so keen on giving us a lucky number! The lucky number decides how many times you will die before you live.

Or Halara! We already know that they're postcognitive. Who's to say they haven't been keeping a little precognition from us too? Maybe they're having breakfast with us right now to eavesdrop on our findings!

Or Yomi. In all this city, nobody has so much power over fate and destiny as Yomi. He flexes that power every time he has people killed. He shapes people's fates into imprisonment and death as easily as imprisoning or killing them. Perhaps he used his powers to shape this fate as well?

The Count is probably clean. He can only work with numbers that already exist, so I think we can remove him from the list.

But what might have changed is probability. We're going quantum on our lucky day!

Bestie. Bestie. You are rich as fuck, bestie. The cost of Halara's services are pocket change. Bestie. This team-up would be amazing.

Woo-hoo, rich girl gets freebies! Boy, it sure is nice to have upper-class privileges. It's almost like the systems of capital are designed to make things more expensive for the poor or something.

Maybe it's cause Halara thinks I'm swell. :)

Of course, we shouldn't discount the more rational explanation. Halara's offer of pro bono services may be another manifestation of our Lucky Day!

And. Would that. Still be considered a conversation among friends, rather than an official business expenditure? I will offer you this adorable smile and a pair of thumbs ups.

(b˃̵ ᴗ ˂̵)b Let's go, Team... Nightford? Clockmare? Fulara? ...Nightmare... Clock... Alarm clock!

Let's go, Team Alarm Clock, let's go!

...oh, but you're also a suspect so this will let me keep an eye on you. I nearly forgot you were on The List. Finger guns!

Does it say which building? I tried asking around but everyone was too busy gasping in shock.

That's probably where the d6 came from. This involves gambling in some way or another. He was so invested in the outcome of that roll that he was willing to die for it.

What about the roof? Can the windows on the roof be opened?

*nods sagely* Roof windows are unlocked. Check.

What are his gambling habits like? That's going to be the centerpiece of this mystery.

There we go. Now we're on the trail of the d6. Not sure we'll find the d6 at the crime scene now, after all this time. Oh! But Halara can use their Postcognition to return to the crime scene and spot it! I'm so glad we hired invited Halara to tag along as our extra-special luxury friend!

They are so cool, y'all. I don't know why Yuma always looks so miserable every time he finishes a conversation with them!

#master detective archives: rain code #drake plays rain code #fubuki clockford

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bronzefuryfic · 2 months

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Revisiting my favorite passages in Bronze Fury:

Best of: Helaena+Rhae (so far)

Ch. 5: Helaena and Rhae become friends

"I think that they are both correct," she said quietly, slowing her pace. "I don't think Father likes us very much, but I don't think he wants to say that, so he says nothing instead. I'm uncertain if it is because he finds it kinder or easier..." Helaena trailed off, looking thoughtful. She'd come to a full halt. "I suppose he might try harder if he wasn't sick all the time, though. He tires quickly when I speak with him." Rhae thought Helaena was being generous—She didn't think that matched with her previous assertion that the King was a nice man. Rhae knew of the uncertainty Helaena described—she had faced similar questions about her own father all her life. All the not-knowing was a pain you learned to endure, but the agony never truly ceased. "Well, he's missing out," Rhae said angrily. Helaena looked startled at her fierceness, and Rhae flushed, embarrassed for having yet another outburst. "I mean it." She grumbled. "I like talking with you plenty." Helaena's look of concern broke into a warm smile as she reached down to squeeze Rhae's hand. "Thank you, Rhae." Helaena said, swinging their arms slightly. "You're a good friend." Rhae wasn't sure anyone had ever considered her a friend before. She gazed at their swaying hands together, making her mind up in an instant. She didn't care that they'd only just met—she'd be thrilled to have Helaena as her first.

Ch. 5: Helaena comforts Rhae during Viserys' Daemon lecture

Rhae channelled her growing anger into a tight fist resting on the table. The King didn't notice, but the Princess did. Helaena worked her way closer to their end of the table as time passed, walking her middle and index fingers along the streets of the model city. Once she had slid into the seat next to Rhae, she walked her fingers to Rhae's clenched hand, which had lost all feeling. If Helaena's middle and index fingers were the legs on which her hand walked, the pinky and pointer served as its arms. She gently knocked on Rhae's enclosed fist with her little finger, and for the first time in nearly an hour, Rhae's hand unfurled. Rhae's hand now flat on the table, Helaena placed hers atop and gave a light squeeze.

Ch. 5: Helaena introduces Rhae to her favorite insects

As they waited for dinner to be brought to them, Helaena gave Rhae a tour of her various insects. She was introduced to a centipede named Irri, a mantis named Willifer, and a large beetle named Nara before the servants announced their presence at the door.

Ch. 6: Helaena builds bug enclosures and teases Rhae about Aegon

Rhae collapsed into the nearest seat, massaging her scarred skin as Helaena set to work. She had three glass cases to fill, and Rhae watched as the princess filled each with dark, rich soil. "You even found some worms," Helaena giggled, holding one writhing for her to see. "How'd you carry these so far, anyway? They're awfully heavy." "I got Aegon to help," Rhae said, trying her best to sound nonchalant. "Of course," Helaena nodded, a mischievous look in her eye. "He is always most eager to please you."

Ch.9: Helaena and Rhae discuss their dreams

Once changed, both girls crawled onto the mattress from opposite sides. The bed was massive, leaving ample space for either of them to lounge and stretch. And yet the two met in the middle, so close that Rhae could feel the warmth of the princess's breath on her face. "What was your dream about?" Helaena whispered. "It's not important anymore." Rhae meant it. The ache in her chest had faded almost as soon as she'd stepped into the room. In the darkness, Helaena's hand found Rhae's. "I wanna hear." ... "I dunno... it was like here, in the Red Keep," Rhae murmured. "Everything was exactly as it was supposed to be." "Was I there?" "You were. Same with Aegon and Aemond and all the rest, except..." Rhae sighed. "One moment everything was fine, and the next it wasn't." Helaena wriggled closer, legs bumping against Rhae's beneath the blankets. "What happened?" "Nothing happened. But... I knew something would, and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop it. That was the scary part." Rhae could hear Helaena's hair rubbing against her pillowcase, and she could only assume she was nodding her head in the darkness. "I know what you mean," the princess breathed. "My dreams are like that, too." "Really?" The sound of hair on silk intensified, and Rhae smiled despite her sadness. "What do you do?" "There's nothing to do, is there?" Helaena mused. "We can't help what we see." "Oh... I suppose you're right." "This is nice, though," Helaena continued softly. "It's good to know that even when you can't see your friends, they're still there. I'm glad you came by tonight... I feel a lot better." Rhae sniffed, throwing an arm around her friend's neck. They tangled beneath the sheets, cuddling closer, daring the world to pull them apart. "We'll always have each other, then." "Promise?" "I promise."

Ch. 11: Helaena gets brutally honest

"Gods Rhae," Aegon said, as he and Helaena joined them. He surveyed her closely, his brow knitting together in concern. "You look like shit." "Aegon!" Aemond glowered. "What?" Aegon argued. "She does!" "You do," Helaena whispered, taking Rhae by her right arm as her brothers bickered.

Ch. 12: Rhae on Helaena's talent for hiding bugs on her person

Only the back of her head was visible, but Rhae was certain Helaena had retrieved her favorite spider. From where , Rhae was less certain: pockets, sleeves, the folds of her dress were some of Helaena's favorite hideaways. One time, when Alicent had made her empty all three, Rhae had even seen Helaena tuck a weevil into her hair.

Ch. 12: Helaena backs Rhae's decision to face Daemon alone

"We could go with you," Aemond says. "No." "Rhae..." Aegon begins. "Rhae will face her father alone," Helaena says hollowly. The trio turns to face her, and she shrugs, still frowning at the dead spider in her hand. "You two won't always be around to help. Rhae needs this."

#thinking about my girls a lot today #helaena targaryen #oc: rhae targaryen

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rightpastnowhere · 2 years

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Right soooo.

3. Drinking Headcanon - Vex & Vax

8. Shopping headcanon - Tary & Vex

12. Friendship headcanon - Vex & Zahra

16. Appearance headcanon - Any de Rolo child of your choice.

IT'S VEX HOURS BABY!!! AND ALSO THE DE ROLO BABIES

hoo boy this is a long one. i’m so sorry. i am insane, and you activated the Vex Loving Hours

headcanon ask meme

3. drinking, vex & vax

okay. tipsy vex and drunk vex are very different. tipsy vex is loud and fun and flirty, alcohol chipping away at that composure she tries to keep locked down. her posture loosens up, and she thinks less about what she says - she snorts and giggles, her words slur together, and she doesn't hesitate to just... be. it frees her up a little. drunk vex, however, is just... sleepy. like, once she's truly hammered, she just gets tired. and a little cuddly. it's at this point that people can catch the slightest hints of a byroden accent, where she forgets the 'g' in 'darling'. i am absolutely stealing this from this fic by @notaficwriter which is cute and amazing and lovely and everyone should go read it right now. drunk vax, as we see in canon, is just a silly guy. he's a funny man. he jokes and stumbles around, and loves his friends so much, and is also more likely to have conversations with his sister about love. he gets stuck in physical closets instead of metaphorical ones. he’s a dork and also an enabler of chaos

vex and vax together being drunk... is just a wild ride. in the beginning, they're sort of playing off each other, trying to see whose tolerance is better, encouraging each other to throw darts (and daggers) when they can't walk straight. but before vox machina, it was rare that they ever got drunk together. they knew the dangers of being intoxicated when they were nobodies, flitting from city to city, and if they weren't in the woods they were wrapped up in shady shit. if they got their hands on some good alcohol, they'd take their turns, and usually with trinket on watch, too. they wanted to enjoy some of the little things, but not at the risk of each other. sometimes they'll still fall into the habit with VM, starting to argue over who's the designated driver monitor for the night, before remembering, oh, we don't need to do that anymore. and then they get Plastered

8. shopping, tary & vex

tary and vex both adore shopping. in fact, it's one of their little bestie bonding activities - just heading out to shop, either in whitestone (it's still recovering, but by the time skip some of the cute little stores have definitely begun to reemerge) or in emon. they go clothes shopping and enable the shit out of each other. vex has a slowly growing collection of elaborate hair clips, one that percy eventually makes a whole cabinet for. they also hit up armories and weapon shops like mall shops - "ooo, would you just look at these arrows? oh, gods, they're so gorgeous" "vex'ahlia, you have to see this armor, oh it's so lovely-" "ooooo you have to get it!!" “oh taryon, have you seen this mace? oh it’s so darling” “oh pike would love that” “she would!” and. they’re kind of joking, but kind of not. it is so confusing to all of the shopkeepers, it's great

the thing is, though, that initially, shopping was a huge conflict between them. their original animosity really centered around money - tary flaunted it like it was nothing, expected vex not to know shit about it, and to top it all off, it wasn't even his own hard earned money. he was coasting on dad’s coattails (and, even though we learn later that his dad is a dick, i can imagine that vex was a little bitter that at least this rich fuck’s rich fuck dad actually gave him something). even after tary's false bravado has dropped and vex has taken him in as her latest stray, he still has no concept of how money works, or its value. "it's a banana! how much could it cost, a platinum piece?" kinda vibes. he has no fucking idea how to haggle, either, and it nearly causes vex to go grey early. their earliest shopping trips are doubling up as educational moments. vex is gonna help this man learn money sense if it kills her

(they occasionally bring percy along as well, since he actually loves shopping nearly as much as them, but for the most part this is a ritual that the two of them keep to themselves during the year-long break. and occasionally, post-canon, during reunions they’ll slip away for some nostalgic browsing. just to feel a little more normal)

the rest of the headcanons (zahra and vex, the de rolo babies) are under the cut because i. went insane

12. friendship, zahra & vex

ZAHRA IS ONE OF THE MOST UNDER-APPRECIATED CR CHARACTERS AND I LOVE HER FRIENDSHIP WITH VEX SO MUCH THANK YOU

okay. listen. they give off the vibes of those friends who dated for a while and broke up amicably but still are all close and would absolutely agree to a friendly hook up you know. like that’s what i do with them in a modern au. but in canon they just... they have the vibes, okay. there’s a post somewhere with a gif of vex saying she’s got a crush on zahra, and i haven’t been able to find the actual moment but i hold this so close

ANYWAY! they have the weirdest friendship. half the time, when they get together, they just... sit in a library. or a room. and just read. they don’t talk to each other for hours, and say it’s some of the best company they’ve ever had. the other half of the time, they go out and absolutely fuck up the nearest tavern. they drink people under the table and threaten a healthy amount of creepy fuckers who try and hit on them. they throw darts absolutely plastered (vex) and cast one too many inebriated spells (zahra), and are just generally a fire hazard. and, again, they say it’s some of the best company they’ve ever had. they’re wild adventurers, going hard in their celebrations in part of the job description, but they’re also nerdy little introverts who find solace in the quiet company. they also have a pair of sending stones, and will drop everything to go help when the other calls. they’re ride or die, and have each other’s backs

also, post-canon, they have a lot of meet-ups that double as play dates, because the the zahra/kashaw twins and vesper are about the same age, and i imagine those weren’t the last of the hydris kids. also, of course, zahra absolutely adores gwen - vex named the kid after her, for fuck’s sake, which brought zahra to actual tears when vex told her, because she’d had her self-worth stripped away just like vex had; she never even dreamed someone would think highly enough of her to give her name to someone so precious. so, naturally, zahra is the most called-upon babysitter once gwen is around, at least until vesper is old enough for the responsibility (although zahra still volunteers her help). she also helps gwen a lot with coming into her tiefling heritage, and helps the rest of the de rolos learn infernal, touched by how dedicated they all are to helping gwen feel included and loved

16. appearance headcanon, any de rolo baby

again. i have no self restraint. so i’m gonna do all of them. but i might cut it down to one particular trait because this post is getting out of hand

vesper: i think she’s definitely celestial plane-touched in some way, shape, or form, whether she’s an aasimar or not (and i’ve started to slip to @essayofthoughts‘s side of this whole matter, with her not being an aasimar but still pelor-blessed), but i don’t think she was born with any visible signs of it. i think she was born with dark hair, almost vex’s color but a touch lighter, and that after some incident as a kid (or just more exposure to magic and pelor-related magic, i’m not sure) it started to grow in white. soon after, her light brown freckles gained a cluster of silver ones scattered about, catching the sun the same way vex’s golden ones do (a headcanon i will die on the hill of)

leona: her hair is an absolute bitch to maintain. not only is it frizzy, but it’s frizzy curls. as someone with frizzy curly hair (that, actually, was not curly for the first bit of my life), it can be an absolute nightmare in any sort of humidity, or if you don’t use the right hair stuff. i think it’s less of an issue than it would be, given whitestone’s location, but any time they travel to byroden - or, hell, even emon - if leo doesn’t keep it fully braided or tied up, the frizz doubles it’s size. wolfe makes so much fun of her when it happens for the first time, calling her “lion-mane leo” in the brattiest way a 12 year old can. (he would have the same problem if his hair wasn’t cut so short)

wolfe: he’s got a round lil face, simply because i think it would be adorable. also, i think he’s got pretty strong freckles - the normal kind, but darker than vesper’s normal freckles because he spends more time outside. i headcanon him as a bow user (fighter class, specifically), but despite the bow not necessarily being a strength weapon and more dexterity (looks at vex’s 7 strength), he’s worked hard to build up some muscle so he can be useful in any sort of fighting. he’s got a protective streak a mile wide - for his siblings, of course, and the rest of his family, but also for anyone who’s disadvantaged or picked on. also, he has the absolute best style out of all of the kids. he’s the best dressed for every occasion. he and vex are a force to be reckoned with

also, for both of the twins: they’re the tallest of the kids, and they’re total dicks about it. they lord it over all of rest like it’s something to brag about, even though they’re the only ones who actually give a fuck. vesper only did for a little bit, once she stopped growing and they kept on getting taller, but got over it relatively quickly. the twins, however, did not. it’s hilarious. actually, the only one who gets huffy about it is percy - they end up just a smidge taller than him, once they’ve reached their final heights (although he’s mostly just emotional that they’ve grown up so much)

vax’ildan/freddie: i keep focusing on their hair BUT... i imagine he’d grow out his hair. not as long as vax’ildan did, and it’s a lot curlier than vax’s was, but the similarity still strikes vex every now and then. it actually hits percy on occaison, too - i imagine little ludwig had curly dark brown hair, and that when it got long he would tie it back until he could be bothered to get it cut, and it looked a little similar to how freddie wears it. i also think, as freddie grows older, it becomes apparent that he inherited vex’s complexion - his skin holds a decent tan through the winter, and is sun-warm light brown in the summer, especially when he starts spending more and more time outside with charlie. eventually, he looks more like vex’s mini than vax’s (or ludwig’s), which helps with the sting of resemblance

gwen: okay so i had a dumb headcanon for her ombre hair but then i looked up ipkesh’s appearance, and he ALSO has ombre hair and red skin, so i assume she just has those features because her planal affiliation comes from the ipkesh pact. BUT i’m gonna use the headcanon anyway, so: please imagine gwen trying to dye the rest of her hair white so she matches with vesper. it’s a disaster and it’s absolutely adorable

ANYWAY ANYWAY i just. please consider gwen with a little gap between her two front teeth when the adult ones grow in. combined with the little tiefling fangs that she has. she is the cutest kid in all of whitestone and everyone knows it. also, her horns kinda confuse me a little bit - they’re small, but they seem to be in their standard adult shape. i can’t imagine the s-shaped ones can grow any longer given their shape, and horns don’t just... increase in size, so those horns would have to be fully grown despite her young age (aside from scaling up as she grows up). but she does have those lil nub horns, so my idea is that eventually those will grow a little more and curve a little more, and then finally she’ll have a third pair of shorter, basically-nub horns that grow in. i just think that would be neat and adorable, and i haven’t seen a lot of multi-horned tieflings

holy shit i wrote so much i am. so sorry

#this is a bEHEMOTH #vex’ahlia #vax’ildan #taryon darrington #zahra hydris #vesper elaina de rolo #leona de rolo #wolfe de rolo #vax'ildan de rolo #gwendolyn de rolo #perc’ahlia #critical role #vox machina #essayofthoughts #ask meme

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vvatchword · 6 months

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I fucking moved. Fuck that city in particular and fuck everybody in it except for the cool Bat Dude and the lady who gave me a ride so I didn't get rained on and the nice old grandpa who saw me staring into space at the hamburger joint (as one does).

Yes, I got into a stranger's car, but look. She was very nice and she reminded me of a dear friend, and I was so darkly miserable that the fact she asked was like a little ray of sunshine. Like look. Not everybody is fucking horrid, sometimes they're a nice librarian-looking lady in an SUV.

Oh, now I can't stop thinking of nice people. Let's face it: there were plenty of nice folks there. It's just that I'm not made for cities. There's what I thought I wanted and there's what I actually wanted.

I hate cities

I hate noise

I hate traffic

I hate rich people

I hate pollution (and so does my bird)

I hate the horrifying cost of living

I hate lights and need a real nighttime. If I can't see stars I begin to die. If your lights are so bright the moon disappears, you're too damn bright

I HATE public transit because...

I hate having to maneuver around homeless shenanigans. You know how many times I'd be genuinely terrified per month? Way too many times.

There were too many people everywhere I went. I would try to go shopping early to avoid rubbing shoulders and end up rubbing shoulders. There was just no easy way to avoid crowds.

Tamed nature. Do you know what I mean? Nature made as humans desire it, not nature existing outside of humankind. At the very least--nature that hasn't seen more than two separate human beings per month. I have learned a brand new appreciation for wastelands. I am not renewed by a park with a tree in it. I need to see land that doesn't need a sprinkler system.

I was constantly overwhelmed and I never got to do anything fun because I was too poor. Cool shit happens here, too, though. So I'm just going to try and go to something nice at least once per month. It's more expensive because you have to drive, but it's less expensive on the whole because half of my income isn't going to rent.

Moving was a nightmare. I basically packed up and left in a week. My dad contracted some friends from his church. They said they could help me pack if I wasn't done yet. Joke's on me: those guys didn't give a single fuck. They launched my belongings like we were Cape Canaveral. I thought I was going to die from the agony of seeing brain-dead rednecks bodyslam my books into boxes. I still haven't found parts of my stuff yet. Who knows where it's all gone. I'll find it eventually? I guess?

I proceeded to drive home in the dark and the rain, where I chugged energy drinks and longed for death. I stopped once to buy the best possible snacks I could find (Muddy Buddies, Dot's Pretzels, some donuts. My life is falling apart. I deserve nice things). My traveling partner was the sole surviving African Dwarf Frog (long story, but they started dying one by one, and she is the last).

Got home and weeks of abuse caught up to me. I proceeded to fall into a catatonic state for about two days. Caught up with myself today and finally set my PCs up. I have two; one is an old-school mid-tier gaming device from like. 2012. The other is my custom-built gaming PC from about three years ago. Anyway. I've been wanting to make them both dual-monitor machines but I had to do some troubleshooting, and I figured it out today.

I can't connect to ethernet because this house wasn't built with ethernet in mind. It's going to have to be WiFi. Ewwww. Oh well

Being home is a HUGE relief. My parents are ecstatic to have me. The DOG is ecstatic to have me. The bird is angry because I can just straight-up leave his sight now. The apartment may have been a hideous, dimly-lit hole, but it was a SMALL hideous, dimly-lit hole, and he knew where I was at all times. He has to hunt for me now and he hates it.

I can begin job-hunting again in earnest, as well as begin NaNoWriMo. I need to hit 5,000 words today. Wish me luck lol

#vvatchword

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fenimores-book-nook · 6 months

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Books, small towns, and other things.

In this blog, I'm going to talk about exactly what I chose as the title. Creative, right? What inspir- wait, first, good morning, lovely. I hope your day is going great, whatever time you're reading this at. It is 10:06 AM for me, wouldn't it be crazy if it was that time for you but it's tomorrow? So we'd be 24 hours apart. That's crazy how time and the sun and the earth works. Anyways...

What inspired me to write this post was, well:

I like writing tumblr posts and I do it because of that reason. Because I enjoy doing it.

I love small town stories, possibly because I live in a small town but sometimes it doesn't feel like that, so a reminder is nice.

I'm reading a book that takes place in a small town, as well as the book I'm planning to read after I finish this one.

So, those are my reasons as to why I'm writing about books and small towns and other things. I don't know exactly what the "other things" part will include, but we can find out together.

First, lets talk:

BOOKS.

This is the book I'm currently reading:

You're a Mean One, Matthew Prince by Timothy Janovsky.

I'm only at the start of this one, but I love it already. It's about an entitled rich guy from the city who gets sent to stay at his grandparents that live in a small town to learn a lesson. Of course, he doesn't expect another queer hottie to be staying with them too.

I know it's a cliche: a city kid goes to a small town, falls in love, blah blah blah. But those movies and books are some of my faaavorites. Even if you can totally call the ending, I love them. They're the comfort reads/watches. :) I also am reading this one right now because, like I've previously stated in my other posts, I'm excited for CHRISTMAAAAAS.

A cute queer looking illustration from pinterest just to prove my excitement. :)

And now, the book I'm planning to read after. Well, I should say bookS.

I'm going to start with Delilah Green Doesn't Care by Ashley Herring Blake. I first saw that one on the shelf at my work a while back and knew it'd be something I'd love, but I left it. Then, Astrid Parker Doesn't Fail showed up and today, I just saw Iris Kelly Doesn't Date. So I'm taking that as a sign to start with one of them. ;)

From what I read on the back cover of Delilah Green Doesn't Care, it kind of gives the same vibe as You're a Mean One, Matthew Prince. Obviously, there are differences but I am excited to start reading it! And if I love it enough, there is a very good chance I'll end up reading the other two as well.

And as much as I love talking about books, I also love talking about:

SMALL TOWNS.

A lot. Not quite as much as books, but almost. Almost.

I don't really know when my love for small towns started, I think it's really just always been there. Because I live in a small town, I went to school in small towns. OOOOHHH, this calls for old photos. ;)

For grade school, I went to a school that was in an incredibly small town.

A photo of one of my best friends and I on the bus, in 5th grade. We're still besties! We used to film these videos everyday on the bus called something like, "YOLO Sisters from Another Mother." And it would always change. I think one time it was "Animal Sisters from Another Mother." So. Grade school was a fun and interesting time.

One key thing I remember from my time at that tiny school in that tiny town was every year for Christmas, our teachers would take us around the town and we would carol for people. It was one of my favorite things to do. Another interesting thing that I remember quite well was a gas leak we had. We had to leave all of our stuff and walk to the old school, about 3 blocks down. All of which were made up of gravel roads. I just think that piece of information is valid in this instance. Other than the reason why we were there, it was a neat day, we got to just hang out outside on the playground equipment. Everything ended up being okay and we were able to go back to school.

For middle through high school, I went to school in a bigger town, smaller than the town I live in (technically right outside, but shh) but bigger than my grade school town.

Obviously, the 2018 photo is from middle school, I think I was in 7th grade and Sabrina, my lifelong bestie, would've been in 6th. And the 2023 one is from my high school graduation, just this last May. That's INSANE. *cries in agony*

Sure, small towns can be...interesting. But I love them anyways. I absolutely love visiting fun small towns on camping trips or on stops within longer trips. One of my favorite small towns I've visited definitely gives Gilmore Girls vibes, but it's not as busy as Stars Hollow is. The first time I went there, it was on a camping trip with my parents. The campsite was maybe fifteen-twenty minutes from the town. And the second time was on a day trip with a few of my best friends.

You can probably guess what photos are from what visit. ;)

There was a bookstore there that I absolutely love. We went back to the town, I think, everyday we were camping there. I ended up getting the whole set of the graphic novel version of Wings of Fire. The ones that were out at that time, anyways. It's a great place! :)

Now, we're finally down to the:

OTHER THINGS

topic. Which can kind of be grouped in with the small towns topic and actually, maybe the books topic too. But it's fiiiine, it doesn't matter.

To be honest, I never really thought of Kansas as my home, until this year. I guess I used to just see it as: yeah, it's my home, it's just where I live. Until my mom and I traveled to Colorado for my nineteenth birthday and we had..a lot of car trouble. I hate thinking about that aspect of the trip and I hate that one of the main things I remember about it is that, because apart from that, it was a really good trip. Without getting too into it, when we crossed back into Kansas, I felt the most amount of joy to be back in my home state than I ever had before. That's when I started seeing Kansas as my home.

I like the thought of living in a book-like small town. With beautiful skies and fun little antics. :)

So, we'll see where life takes me, but it's one of the first times I can see myself really living here. And if it ends up not being my "forever home," that's okay.

There's my "books, small town, and other things" post for you! I hope you enjoyed reading it and I hope you enjoy books and small towns and random thoughts too. ;)

I bid you adieu,

Thalia <3

#books #small town #random thoughts #kansas #i'm letting myself believe that i live in stars hollow

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apaleflame · 8 months

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bg3 post epilogue slide show that exists in my imagination: [spoilers]

shadowheart and psymáre use their copious riches they collected during their adventure to buy some property in rivington, they have a house built for shadowheart’s parents and another for themselves. scratch and the owlbear cub have tons of room outside to run around and play!

funny idea popped into my head that psymáre should take over ownership of sorcerers sundries since it’s previous owner, uh, tragically died

im not sure where precisely astarion is living (maybe he also buys himself a house with all the gold we picked up) (also like, with cazador gone... who owns the szarr estate? maybe the gang pulls some legal strings so that astarion becomes the new owner, then he auctions off all of cazador's shit, and now has a ton of money. then oops the mansion burns to the ground. hooray insurance fraud!) but psymáre visits him often because they are friends. in her free time she’s researching ways for him to be able to walk in the sun again.

gale returns to waterdeep after retrieving the broken crown pieces from the river and returning them to mystra. psymáre’s roped him into her “helping astarion walk in the sun” project. she goes to visit him in waterdeep after everything at home for her has settled down and gets a grand tour of the city. they use magic skype to talk to each other when psymáre goes back to baldur's gate because they are wizard besties

wyll is in avernus, and so is karlach for the moment (a lot of players (including me) are disappointed that there's no way to give her a real happy ending, despite all the threads in act 3 that hint that there should have been a way, so... this might change pending future content updates) so unfortunately they don't see each other very much in person anymore :( but psymáre's a very smart wizard and makes magic skype work between planes so they can still catch up. i imagine she'd have a chat with barcus about potentially getting the iron hand gnomes and their new gondian allies to work on a solution to karlach's case

it seems like lae'zel and the gang permanently part ways after she returns to the astral plane, and I wish there had been a slightly longer goodbye scene with her if you had very high or exceptional approval with her. in my mind hers and psymáre's parting was a lot more like morrigan and the warden's friendship parting in da:o "i knew nothing of friendship before i met you, live well my friend, live gloriously". psymáre really didnt like lae'zel when she first met her and was surprised by how much she came to value their friendship (like... she only stole the hammer from raphael & freed orpheus because lae'zel asked her too. braving a devil's lair so you can free a guy who might just kill you when you release him for your friend is pretty ride-or-die, in my eyes). maybe they will meet again one day! i hope they will. psymáre's a high elf and still has many centuries of life left ahead of her, and in the astral plane lae'zel won't age, so who can say!

since jaheira lives in baldur's gate, that means they're neighbours and would still see each other! i dont see psymáre becoming a harper herself, but she'd be allied with them, certainly. jaheira goes home to her family and has a well deserved break from apocalyptic fuckery. also that reverse aging scroll jaheira has in her basement... psymáre's a high elf and is 370 years old, so she might expect to live another 400 years or so, whereas shadowheart... isn't going to live that long (elves live on average about 750 years, but half-elves only about between 128-180 years) ... maybe jaheira gives the scroll and her research to them, since she decided she wasnt going to use it?

(now ive made myself sad thinking about how all of astarion's friends are eventually going to die of old age :( maybe the "walking in the sun" fix will be to cure him of vamparism? this would be a good century or two into the future though, probably. give him plenty of time to decide if that what he wants or not. also plenty for psymáre to learn how to cast wish or find a scroll of true resurrection)

in halsin's romance ending he tell you that he's going to help the refugees and orphaned children start new lives in the now shadow curse-free lands, so obviously he's still gong to be doing that. i cant decide whether or not yenna goes with him or if psymáre and shadowheart adopt her lmao but i definitely think that they'd drop by and say hello whenever they're able. and im sure shadowheart would like to see moonrise towers back to its former glory!

i recruited minsc really late into act 3 so i didnt get to know him very well but i assume post-game that he's doing just fine i dont have any further thoughts on him lmao

#im the op #bg3 brainrot

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atiquzzaman2218 · 9 months

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Exploring the Vast Visual Universe: Alamy's Treasure Trove of Creativity

Hey there, fellow wanderers of the digital world! 🌍 Have you ever found yourself lost in the mesmerizing maze of stock photos, vectors, and videos, searching for that perfect image to make your project pop? Well, let me introduce you to a place where creativity knows no bounds, and imagination finds its canvas – Alamy! With a staggering collection of 343,358,457 stock photos, 360° panoramic images, vectors, and videos, this is your ticket to visual wonderland. And hey, did I mention you can save up to 30% when you upgrade to an image pack? Buckle up as we embark on a journey through Alamy's expansive universe of creativity!

Unveiling the Alamy Universe

Picture this: a universe where pixels weave tales, vectors sketch dreams, and videos bring stories to life. Alamy isn't just a platform; it's a canvas of endless possibilities. With 343,358,457 assets at your fingertips, finding that perfect image or video is like searching for stardust in a galaxy of creativity. From the ethereal glow of sunsets to the intricate details of macro photography, Alamy houses the world in pixels.

The Art of Diversity

Diversity isn't just a buzzword here – it's a way of life. Alamy's collection mirrors the rich tapestry of our world, capturing cultures, landscapes, emotions, and moments in every corner of the globe. Want a snapshot of bustling bazaars in Marrakech? Or perhaps the serene landscapes of New Zealand's rolling hills? Alamy's got you covered, my friend. Whether you're creating content for a blog, designing a website, or crafting a presentation, diversity is the spice that Alamy sprinkles generously.

Navigate Creativity in 360°

Who needs a plane ticket when you can journey across breathtaking landscapes from the comfort of your screen? Alamy's 360° panoramic images are like portals to another dimension. Imagine standing atop a majestic mountain peak or strolling through a bustling city square – all without leaving your chair! These images aren't just pictures; they're experiences that awaken the traveler in all of us.

The Vector Wonderland

Vectors are the unsung heroes of design, and Alamy knows it. Whether you're whipping up a logo, designing a poster, or creating a jaw-dropping infographic, vectors are your trusty sidekicks. With Alamy's vector collection, you'll find lines that dance, shapes that sing, and colors that tell stories. It's like having an artist's palette at your fingertips.

Lights, Camera, Action!

Videos speak louder than words, and Alamy's video collection knows how to make some noise. From heartwarming family moments to gripping action sequences, these videos aren't just clips – they're windows into emotions, stories, and adventures. Whether you're producing a marketing campaign or crafting a video essay, Alamy's videos will add that cinematic flair that's bound to leave your audience in awe.

Upgrading to the Alamy Experience

So, you've fallen head over heels for Alamy's creative wonderland? Well, hold onto your hats, because upgrading to an image pack is like getting a VIP pass to the most imaginative party in town. Not only do you get access to jaw-dropping visuals, but you'll also save up to 30% on your purchases. It's like unlocking a treasure chest of inspiration without breaking the bank.

Navigating the Alamy Universe

Now that you're armed with the knowledge of Alamy's colossal collection and the perks of an image pack, it's time to dive in. The search bar is your compass; just type in your keywords, and watch as Alamy unfurls a tapestry of options. Refine your search with filters, explore related categories, and maybe even stumble upon a gem you never knew you needed.

The Alamy Community

In the vast expanse of the digital universe, finding a community that shares your passion is like discovering a rare comet. Alamy's community is a constellation of photographers, designers, and creators who are just as enthusiastic about visuals as you are. Connect, learn, and share – because creativity shines brighter when it's shared.

In a nutshell, Alamy isn't just a stock photo platform; it's a gateway to a realm where imagination meets pixels, where vectors weave dreams, and where videos capture emotions. With 343,358,457 assets to explore and the opportunity to save up to 30% with an image pack upgrade, Alamy is the visual playground you've been waiting for. So, my fellow explorers, gear up to dive into a universe of creativity that knows no bounds. Happy browsing, happy creating, and may your imagination forever run wild amidst Alamy's treasure trove!

#AlamyAdventures #VisualWonderland #CreativeCanvas #PixelPalette

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haithamuse · 10 months

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Sooooo, here I am! Ready to ramble about my OC(s).

Technically I have two but I haven't gotten around to draw both their character sheets because I didn't have the time to do so yet and procrastinated 💀 I'll give you the TL;DR of their backstories because otherwise, I'll write an essay here (I will already anyway skdfjksdj).

Setting: Futuristic/Cyberpunk universe Names: Dust & Aiden

Aiden is a gifted and former rich kid/corpo. He graduated with a masters degree in engineering and human augmentations. He founded a company for such augmentations and soon became a leader in the market with them at the young age of 21. A few years later his company faced a major setback due to a critical business deal, causing a decline in revenue and leaving him in debt. Despite his efforts to make amends, he was unable to pay back the debt and his brother was taken hostage. Long story short, he was faced with the impossible task of stealing an important blueprint for a new weapon from one of the wealthiest families in the city or risking losing his brother. He succeeded stealing the blueprint but was caught while doing so, leading to his brother being killed by the kidnappers. Aiden was arrested, his reputation tarnished, and his company was taken away, forcing him to live on the streets where he was met with mistrust and disdain due to being a well-known figure throughout the city and people in the slums of the city dislike "corporate people". He soon met a bounty hunter and helped him with one of his faulty augmentations and soon found himself following in his footsteps. The bounty hunter taught him the basics of the profession and Aiden began to make a name for himself. The word of his work including the reputation of his technical skills in augmentations and cybernetic enhancements quickly spread, and he became one of the most sought-after bounty hunters in the city.

Dust was born and raised in the slums. She never knew her parents and was raised by an older woman who took her in as a child. She considers her her grandma although they're technically not blood-related. Her "grandma" had a shop for salvaged parts for augmentations where she buys old/used parts and refurbishes them to resell them again afterwards. Dust followed suit and ever since her grandma has grown older she has since taken over the shop and leads it now. The bounty hunter that took Aiden in is friends with her grandma and therefore also knows her. He often goes to their shop to sell old parts to them. Which is also how Aiden and Dust eventually meet. She is overall a very sunshiny and bubbly character despite already having to face the hardships of life in the slums. But she's making the best out of it and tries to maintain a positive outlook on life.

Yeah that's about it in short. I'd also attack a picture but I don't really have any I've drawn myself yet but I'll eventually get to that soon. This has become quite long, I'm sorry!! 💀

And I also never intended for them to meet originally but I kiiiiinda started shipping my OCs because they're basically the perfect grumpy vs. sunshine dynamic. So... I want to go for the painful pining, slow-burn type of route with them now skdjskdj.

GASPPPP I ABSOLUTELY ADORE YOUR OCs DUST !!! i swear i know i talked to u abt OCs right before making my own, just for me to dip onto my rp blog for her KLDSJFGSDFKLJH

pls there's absolutely nothing i love more than to talk with people about their OCs and their lore and just ??? I AM SO HERE FOR IT. in these past 4 months i found out myself what a struggle it is to come up w OCs and flesh out their backstories, but GOD it is so much fun and i admire everyone and their OCs !!!!! i could literally talk about OCs all day. especially about my milou.

#(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ — mootsies !#₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ꒱ — dust.

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