#which was unsurprising given his situation

[coffeewithcalypso]

I need autumn to come and save me. I'm such in a shitty headspace right now, I need that breeze and temp drop and fall vibes to come and save me

#the boy gave me the whole i'm not ready to be in a relationship talk a few days ago #which was unsurprising given his situation #but that he felt the need to bring it up now has me all in my head that it was more of a it's never going to be you vibe #which objectively is not at all what he was saying but it really plays on my history of all the other men who've said the same shit to me #to his credit it was very much a i want you to have all the information and make a choice but it's your choice #v men who've done this before with a savior complex of i'm ending things because i'll only hurt you and not giving me a choice #especially my last situationship #ocean eyes #and we agreed to keep doing what we're doing but now i'm all in my head #even though we both finally confessed feelings for each other at the time i'm about as guarded as before worrying i'm being too pushy now #and now i'm worried he's right and i should bail not because i'm 'putting other things on hold waiting on him' which was his worry #just because historically #again ocean eyes #they heal up and move on #anyway it's fucking time for autumn #it's not a sad post if i hide it all in the tags right? #pinball baby

[statementlou]

OH I really need your opinion about Louis being so emotionally intelligent, I think it's barely even talked about it here

ARE people not talking about it? What a funny thought! As a post-hiatus fan, I'm accustomed to thinking of myself as something of a newcomer, even though it's been years now, so it's weird to realize I've been here long enough to see patterns and trends come and go and come again. It's even weirder the way trends in fandom can be completely forgotten and erased when the boys, in contrast, eternally exist in all times at once, everything they've ever said considered to be equally valid to their current lives whether they said it 12 years ago as teens or just yesterday as whole ass adult men! Anyway my point is, there was certainly a time when Louis' emotional intelligence was discussed a lot, AS IT SHOULD BE. For sure so much when Walls came out it was... those LYRICS!! Yes, without that gift he's still gorgeous and smart and embodies a unique and bewitching gender presentation and has a beautiful and captivating singing voice… I guess there are a lot of other reasons people might like him. But to me the thought of that not being the top of anyone's "why Louis" list is bananas, it feels so absolutely central and necessary to understanding what makes him special!

It's certainly a lot of what makes his songs resonate with people- he's a skillful lyricist, he could craft clever little twists of phrase and metaphors regardless, but it's his emotional intelligence that sets him apart imo. He describes it as honesty, and yes- the willingness to be vulnerable and reveal your feelings is special, but what I don't know if he even really realizes is that for so many people it's not just an unwillingness to open up honestly like he does, it's that they are genuinely unable to identify and understand and name what's happening inside them like that. I think it comes so naturally to him that maybe it can be hard for him to recognize that that experience isn't universal.

I really appreciate that you used the words emotional intelligence specifically, I love that phrase; I think framing it as a form of intelligence is correct and important. It's a skill set that is dismissed as "feminine" and so less important or easier to access than intellectual intelligence, but it's none of those things. And it's a minority of people who, like Louis, are both intellectually and emotionally very very sharp. I'd say it's a reason he was been able to stay such a good person in the face of things that can easily ruin people (being rich and famous from a young age, trauma and loss), and it's certainly what enables him to be so good at his job. It elevates his songwriting above the ordinary, but also it gives him the tools to do the dance of giving the public something to connect with and making it feel like he's completely open and present without actually giving away too much, which would be absolutely impossible without emotional intelligence- if you don't know your own boundaries or can't intuit on the fly what people respond to, it simply falls flat and seems forced. We've been seeing him exercise those skills close up and in person over the last few days in the signings, making everyone feel special and held and like they got a personal special moment without actually telling anyone anything much or going overtime or getting sucked in to any weird interactions! Again, something that would be nearly impossible without those kind of people skills.

It's actually really funny the way the discourse recently (speaking of changing tides in fandom) has been focused on the idea of Louis presenting himself as masculine (is there a relationship between that and the lack of chat about his EI? hm), when I feel like in the past he was the most feminized by fandom, and not because of his mannerisms or look, but because of his willingness to embrace his emotional intelligence- to cry/ talk about crying openly, to share readily about his feelings and be vulnerable, all these things coded as feminine. He himself has said that he doesn't think he's anything special in this regard (or especially feminine, I think is part of the subtext to that) because Northern Brit men are just like that. I'm from the US so I'm not the one to really respond to that, but it seems to me that does contain some truth- I have seen a willingness to cry openly, to talk about vulnerabilities, etc, in other men with public personas from up there- but I think that again, what we're saying is that's he's showing more than just that, that we're talking about his emotional intelligence quotient being unusually high, which is not a regional characteristic, but a personal one.

#I like how this ask sounds like its responding to something I said #but it absolutely is not (...is it??) I love the idea that you just randomly were like EXCUSE ME THIS IS WHAT I NEED TO KNOW RIGHT NOW #no reason it JUST IS #This is really gushy but I don't think Louis is perfect- he does some things that suggest emotional immaturity #which is unsurprising given his situation (royalty who hasn't HAD to grow up) #(honestly since long before he was famous so he was very ready to embrace that role for life when the time came) #but the point is not that he's the perfectly evolved emotional paragon: it's that he's highly emotionally intelligent #which means he has tools that not everyone does and I love what he does with that and how he expresses himself #I'm not actually criticizing when I say he's somewhat immature- I'm envious #We should all be sheltered and allowed to remain immature in some ways honestly #I don't want him to have that taken away I just wish that privilege for more of us #blah blah blah

[iwritefandomimagines]

FIRST AND LAST — PRINCE FRIEDRICH

masterlist

pairing: prince friedrich x reader

description: it has been tradition all season long that prince friedrich occupies your first and last dance of every evening. it is well known that his engagement is looming, so no man dares ask to take these dances from him. that is, until one clueless lord makes that awkward mistake.

warnings: pure fluff, tiny bit of jealousy from my sweet prince, but predominantly pure, tooth-rotting fluff !

“The season is almost over,” Daphne Bridgerton hummed, flitting her fan across her chest as you stood at the edge of the ballroom, “Do you think the prince might propose this evening?”

You laughed, watching as the prince eyed you from across the floor despite dancing with another young lady.

“I hope so,” you replied, pure happiness in your tone as you thought of the future you had discussed so extensively with the man who had won your heart with such ease, “Though he himself requested a long courtship. Oh, Daph, you should’ve heard him. He told me he was certain he was falling in love with me and wished to wed, but that he wanted to prolong our courtship to ensure I too was certain.”

“Gosh, Y/N, how romantic,” Daphne grinned.

“He is absolutely a dream,” you fanned yourself now too, growing flushed at the thought of just how deeply your feelings for the Prussian prince ran, “I of course told him I feel the same regardless, but he said that though he’d wed me in a heartbeat, it was fun to pretend we were still in the early stages of courting. And of course, I save every first and last dance for him and only him.”

Daphne was swooning at the prospect, and given her confusing situation regarding her ruse with the Duke, their sudden marriage, and how in love they quite clearly were, you were unsurprised that she was so excited to hear that your blossoming relationship was thriving so.

“Speaking of which, my dear friend,” she lifted your dance card from your wrist to see that as ever Prince Friedrich’s name graced the bottom of your card, “It appears you have danced with all others.”

As you looked away from her, you saw the prince smile in your direction, sending your heart into an absolute frenzy, “He appears to be on his way over!”

Before he could cross the floor, however, a gentleman you barely recognised obscured your view of the man you loved, stepping directly in front of you with a smile on his face.

“Lady Y/N,” the man bowed, “I am Lord Francis. I apologise for never making your acquaintance sooner, for my work and travels delayed my arrival in the Ton,” he took your hand to kiss its back, and as he leaned to do so you saw the prince behind him with a frown on his face, now mere meters away, “You are truly a diamond, and I should most certainly wish to know you more. You cannot imagine my relief upon seeing that you were yet unbetrothed. Might I have your next dance, my lady?”

You swallowed thickly, looking to Daphne for help but finding that she had slipped away amidst his little speech.

You were tempted to scoff at the man’s audacity to so abruptly ask of a dance at the end of the evening when he had chosen so late in the hall to introduce himself. And, of course, you were entirely uninterested.

Before you had the opportunity to respond, however, Prince Friedrich was at the man’s side.

“Ah, Lady Y/N,” he bowed, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it that lingered as he looked up at you and made you swoon, “Each time I see you in that necklace I am reminded why I selected it for you. It was made for you, to be sure.”

You giggled shyly, both feeling giddy around the man you loved and at the clear reason for his choice of words. He was here to assert his place, jealousy coursing through his royal blood.

“Oh your highness,” you curtsied, “Thank you again for the beautiful gift. I was wondering when you might return to share my last dance, as always. I do so look forward to it,” you flashed your dance card to the rather impertinent Lord Francis with a falsified frown, “I do apologise, my lord, but I have not yet shared my final dance with anyone but the Prince. And I do not wish to change that tradition.”

The gentleman scampered away without another word, leaving the prince to capture you in his arms and lead you to the dance floor.

“I am certainly glad to be rid of that fool,” he grumbled, and you reached up to run your thumb along his cheekbone soothingly, internally frustrated that the action would end up in Lady Whistledown’s writings the next day.

Your voice was barely above a whisper, “Oh my love, you needn’t worry. You know that if I could I would dance only with you the entire night.”

The prince was more than satisfied with this, a broad smile gracing his strong features as you continued the rhythm of the waltz you found yourself in.

“I am pleased to hear that, to be sure,” he beamed, “And once this dance is through, I hoped we might have a moment to talk. Perhaps on the balcony?”

You nodded softly, “Any moment with you, I could never deny myself.”

He smiled, and as the dance drew to a close you found yourself growing nervous.

Had this small moment of jealousy spurred on a proposal? Or perhaps he had always intended to propose tonight?

Perhaps it was not a proposal at all, and he just wished for some fresh air and a chance to chatter away from the eyes and ears of the ballroom?

You caught Daphne’s eye as you followed the prince outside, noticing her eyes widen in excitement as she too expected you to return to the ballroom engaged.

You bit your lip, allowing yourself to share her excitement for just a moment before nerves slipped into your mind again.

You reached the balcony after what felt like hours, with time seeming to progress in slow motion as you waited to hear what it was the prince wished to discuss.

“My dearest Lady Y/N,” he began, capturing both of your hands in his as his eyes twinkled down at you in the moonlight, “You must know that since we met, you have been the sun around which I revolve. You captured my heart the very moment I first saw you, and with every discussion of a future I have grown more certain that it is with you I wish to build a life, a home, a family,”

“Oh my dear prince,” you were certain you could taste blood, your heart pounding with anticipation as it truly sunk in just what was going on, “You must know that the feeling has always been entirely reciprocated. Every moment I have spent with you has been blissful, and I rather selfishly wish for an eternity of such moments.”

He shook his head, “It is not at all selfish, my dove. For it is what I wish for too. An eternity with the love of my life at my side, wherever we might find ourselves.”

You shared a brief moment of comfortable silence, staring into each other’s eyes as you could think about nothing but his gentle touch and romantic words.

He was everything you could’ve dreamed of in a man, and now here he was professing that he too was enamoured by you.

Even though he had made it quite clear how he felt before, in this very second everything felt as though it fell perfectly into place.

The true love you always dreamed of finding but never expected to… He was right here, about to ask for your hand and sweep you off of your feet.

“It is for this very reason, my love,” he began again, keeping his hold of your left hand but dropping to his knee in a split second, “That I find myself desperate to ask — will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

“My gosh!” you exclaimed, nodding excitedly as he slipped the most beautiful ring onto your finger and rose to his feet again, “I would love to. I can think of no future more exciting than one as your wife.”

He kissed your hand again, now peppering kisses around the ring he had just given you, sending sparks throughout your body at his delicate touch.

“I cannot wait to begin our life together properly, as man and wife,” he grinned, reaching to push a stray hair from your face as he spoke, “Free of meddlesome gentlemen who have no regard for one’s prior commitment.”

“My darling, you truly had no need to worry,” you giggled, lifting your free hand to your mouth to stifle it a little, “He could not hold a candle to you, and I would never have given up my dance with you for him. I wish always for my first and last dance to be with you… And every dance in between.”

He pulled you flush to his chest now, spinning you softly to the faint sound of the orchestral tune still playing in the ballroom.

“Then my every dance is yours, my love,” he hummed, discreetly pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he spun you around, “Always and forever.”

“I love you,” you were truly in a state of pure bliss as you danced, choosing to ignore that you were most certainly being watched, “More than I can ever express.”

“I love you as such also, my future princess,” he replied, pausing your dance just to look at you intently again for just a second before he spoke, “And I shall spend our whole life showing you.”

“I am so incredibly lucky to have fallen in love with you,” you shook your head in disbelief, still smiling up at him.

“It is I who is lucky,” he disagreed, looking up into the night sky littered with stars, “And the stars in the sky are lucky to every day be graced with your existence too.”

“You flatter me, my love.”

“And I intend to continue to remind you how wonderful you are, my dove,” he practically whispered, dipping his head lower so that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, though not close enough to induce any more scandal than your balcony dance might already have done.

“It’s a pleasure to be forever your first and last dance… And I can only hope to be your first and last love, if you would let me. For you most certainly shall be mine.”

“You shall be mine too, my love. I am certain of it.”

———

ok fluffy af because i am currently in looove with the prince and idk where it came from but i had to write this once i had the idea!!!

if you have any requests (right now preferably bridgerton, djats or criminal minds) then please feel free to send them in and i’ll make a start this week!

also pleaaase let me know in comments/reblogs what you think!

in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#bridgerton #bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #prince friedrich #prince friedrich x reader #prince friedrich x y/n #prince friedrich x you #prince friedrich imagine #prince friedrich imagines

[frozenjokes]

Rage Room (I’m Loving A Losing Battle, But I Can’t Quite Seem To Let Go)

in which aromantic scar finally tells his friends what’s been happening between him and Grian, and how he processes the space between them

“It’s just- not fair!” Scar smashed the bottle against the tile floor, the glass pelting the ankles of his reinforced pants.

Bdubs clapped behind him, though stopped when Scar turned around, visibly not in the mood. Admittedly he knew he was shooting low when he went on, but Scar didn’t care, “And I’m kind of pissed off about Etho! If the roles were switched, I would be there, and he said he’d be here last time he missed.”

“Oi,” Cleo cut in, about as unamused as Scar figured they’d be. “No friendly fire.”

“Is it really friendly fire if he’s not here.” Scar huffed, but Cleo knew better than to take his words at face value, and shut him up with a firm glare.

“And you better start talking before I make you pay for all of this.” Her words were rugged, but Scar knew she didn’t mean it, and he could take as much time as he needed. But really, if he was taking shots at Bdubs, he probably should cut to the chase. This was why they were here. This was why they had all made this pact in the first place.

“Grian is.” Scar started, stilted, “Sorry, Bdubs. I shouldn’t have said that. Grian won’t talk to me anymore. He doesn’t- want to talk to me.”

“What?” Bdubs said, eyes flying open, and yeah, no one here was really caught up with his whole.. situation. Anything that felt close to Mumbo he tended to avoid, and basically everything about Grian in the past weeks was Mumbo adjacent.. and also a little sensitive. Not something he was eager to talk about. Scar was more than a little pent up, and based on the expressions of concern across Cleo and Bdubs’ faces, it must have been pretty obvious. “Weren’t you guys hanging out nearly everyday for- I don’t know, it’s been a month at least, right? Did something happen? Hasn’t Grian been driving you around everywhere, too? You’ve sure been asking me a lot less.”

“Yeah. We were.” Scar spoke stiffly, picking up another empty bottle and spinning it in his hands. He chucked it at the wall, aiming at the newly set up targets Cleo had implemented a couple weeks ago. A good choice. Fit with the theme of the axe throwing/rage room combo. The bottle shattered near the bullseye, unsurprising, given their whole friend group had pretty tight aim. Still satisfying. “Until he went and fell in love with me.”

The memories burned like open wounds, like red, angry flesh, like sunburns on your eyelids, like the stinging smell of bleach. Cleo said something, some sort of assent, but Scar didn’t hear it, smashing two more bottles for release, though he didn’t feel any less like his ribs had been torn from his chest, hanging limply on hooks, dripping on his face from his place on the cold ground, bleeding out, dying, but never quickly enough.

“I don’t like labels, alright, you all know this, but Grian says aromantic, and that works for now, because I don’t love him like he loves me and that’s fine. That’s fine! That. Is. Fine.” Scar took a bat, needing something bigger, needing more release, and the old TV would work just fine, “And you know how I feel about dating. I like it. I like to get to know strangers, I like to feel things out, and I like to be close! But you know who I don’t like to date?” The question wasn’t meant to be answered. Scar swung his bat, splitting the TV screen with a satisfying crack. “Friends. Good friends. Friends that mean a lot, friends that I can’t afford to lose when everything goes to shit.”

Scar hit the TV a couple more times, physically battling away distress, “I was so afraid when he brought it up- dating. I was so afraid. I couldn’t just date Grian, because it would end and I would lose him and maybe he’d say we could still be friends and I would say yes! Yes, please, please can we still be friends, and he would say that’s okay, and then two weeks later he’d slam me with a message about ‘needing space’ and ‘not wanting to talk for a while’ and suddenly, suddenly my heart’s being ripped out of my chest and stomped on, but it would be fine, right? It would be fine, because after he’s taken his time, we could be friends again, and things could return to normal. No!” The TV was hardly satisfying to hit anymore, reduced to shattered glass and warped plastic under Scar’s assault.

“It never just. Goes back to normal. You try, and you try and you try, but they just can’t do it, they just can’t love you anymore, and suddenly your best friend is slipping away and there’s fucking nothing you can do about it. Because you dated them. Because you took things ‘to the next level,’ because you made something volatile without even knowing, and the next thing you know, it’s blown up in your face, and you’ve been completely blindsided again.” Scar’s arms shook, and gently, from behind, Cleo laid a hand on his shoulder, sliding down his arm to take the bat he was gripping so tightly. Scar let go when they touched his hands, but his teeth remained locked, grinding near painfully.

“Deep breaths, Scar. Breathe with me. Let me count for you,” and Cleo did, counting to five and back again, forcing Scar to take a step back. Scar wasn’t someone who particularly valued meditation or breathing; it was often too difficult to focus, especially alone, and he was easily frustrated knowing how he should be feeling, but Cleo had a way of grounding him, and when Bdubs was doing the same exercises at his side, Scar didn’t feel so stupid. And it did help. Fives minutes to breathe really did wonders sometimes; it was a shame Scar couldn’t quite manage to utilize the tool as effectively when he was alone. Not that he ever remembered to try.

And now it was quiet, and Scar was so vulnerable, and there was no more anger to hide behind, because it was all just sadness, stiff and aching so impossibly deep.

“I thought if we didn’t.. date.. I thought things could just be normal. That nothing would change. But every awful thing just got expedited- he doesn’t want to see me, he doesn’t want to talk to me- he needs space, he said he needed space, but I know what that means now.” Scar had to sit down, and Bdubs joined him, Cleo standing close by. “I feel so helpless. And it didn’t even matter. I just wish I knew so badly, so I could have said yes, so at least we might have had a chance before it all went to shit. I could keep my friend a little bit longer. I wish I understood how he felt. I wish I felt what he felt. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard.” Scar let his head drop to his hands, voice muffled under his palms, “I just kinda hate myself sometimes.”

Cleo put a hand on his shoulder, a question of touch, and one that Scar accepted with closed eyes. “It would still be hard, Scar. I can promise you that. If this isn’t what you want to hear right now, then you can let me know, but I have to think Grian and your other exes of the past who you haven’t kept in contact with were and are just as torn up as you. Maybe they need to let go for themselves, but I can tell you from personal experience, that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It doesn’t make you miss them any less.”

“But when people leave me, it’s always because in some way, their lives would be better without me,” Scar felt like wailing, but in reality, his speech was far more soft, “And my life is always worse. It’s always worse. Like I’m just a plague on my friends, and I have no idea how to fix myself to keep this from happening.”

Bdubs squeezed his hand to get his attention, and Scar knew what was coming, he just couldn’t love himself right now.

“There’s nothing to fix, Scar. You’re one of the most delightful people I know, and I mean that. The way you navigate the world is inspiring.”

“Just doesn’t feel like it right now.”

“It doesn’t have to,” Cleo said, something faraway about the words, “You just should know, that’s all. How we feel.”

“I just wish I was normal.”

“I don’t,” Bdubs snorted, something so passionately reactionary, Cleo laughed, and Bdubs himself looked a bit surprised by his own words, then a tad embarrassed, “I mean, come on. You’re a complete monster, and I love it. I love how comfortable you are about touch, I love how physical you are, and I love how normal you make it feel. Sometimes I want to fall asleep on my friends’ shoulder, or hold hands, or just be held, you know? And no one does it like you, Scar, no one. I think everyone ought to take a couple pages from your book.”

Scar wasn’t quite sure what to do with that, but it wasn’t the type of thing you argued about. You just had to accept it. In all honesty, having people to love him when he couldn’t manage it himself felt indescribably secure. Like a heated blanket wrapped tightly over his shoulders when he was so, so cold. But he couldn’t acknowledge it either, not when he couldn’t breathe the words. So he let it hang, hoping he’d remember to say something later. He knew he would. For now, Scar dodged around the words, stuck in his own raw truth.

“I don’t want to go through this again.”

“I know,” Cleo kept their hand on his shoulder, and Scar wanted to cry.

“And I- Okay, so I can’t really talk about this.. NDAs and such, but I was working on something with someone- something cool, all three of us, Grian included. And at the same time Grian.. cut contact.. I haven’t been able to reach this other uh- colleague, and I don’t know what happened! I don’t know anything, and I have no way of contacting this other guy, and Grian doesn’t know either, and I was so excited, but it just feels like everything is falling apart around me. And- and don’t be mean about the other guy, please, it’s not his fault.” Cleo looked quite skeptical about that, but a pleading look from Scar was enough to get her to leave well enough alone, “I just wish I knew why. Or if he was coming back. Might not have been able to communicate that anyway though, there’s a bit of a language barrier.”

“Can’t use google translate?” Bdubs asked, and Scar couldn’t stop the bitter laugh that escaped his throat.

“Hadn’t thought of that,” he mumbled, which was enough to get Bdubs to let it go. Cleo didn’t look happy, but she didn’t push either.

“That fucking sucks,” she said instead, and Scar laughed in earnest, along with Bdubs, the entire air feeling just a little bit lighter.

“It does,” Scar sighed, resting a cheek on his fist, “Guess I have to find something new to throw myself into. I just really wanted this. I really wanted this.”

There was a long silence, Scar having nothing else to say, and his friends in a similar boat. There wasn’t much to say. They knew. Scar knew they understood. But there was nothing anyone could do. Nothing that could make this any less horrible. But Bdubs did perk up after a minute, catching Scar and Cleo’s attention

“We could go skiing!” Bdubs suggested, to a chorus of groans from Scar and Cleo. Bdubs huffed, affronted as he crossed his arms, “You two need to live a little. Even if you suck, you’re both exhausted by the end of the day, which would do Scar some good in my opinion, and I know you’d be able to take the time off for an impromptu trip.”

“I don’t even think you like skiing,” Cleo rolled their eyes, a laugh under her voice, “You went on one trail ride in those mountains and it changed your life, that’s what. There are no wild horses out there, Bdubs, the guide lied to you.”

“She did not lie! There are horses, and they’re going to see me and know.”

“Know.. what, exactly?” Scar teased, and Bdubs puffed up, as if this was the most blasphemous question Scar could have asked.

“They will just know. And anyway, Etho believes there’s horses out there too, he does, and he wants to see them just as much.”

“Pretty sure Etho is also fucking with you,” Cleo said, smug, and Bdubs gasped.

“Never!” But something stopped him from ranting on; a short pause, a bit of uncertainty. A guilty glance in Scar’s direction. “I’m really sorry he’s not here. I told him- I don’t know. He said something came up last minute and wouldn’t explain. I’m not happy with him either- quite frankly, I’m embarrassed.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Scar rubbed his neck, frowning, “It doesn’t really bother me much, Bdubs. I don’t want you to feel bad.”

“It’s fine if it bothers you! It bothers me! And you’re right, he’s not here, so I think a little friendly fire is well deserved,” Bdubs paused, eying one of the few bottles that were left, “May I?”

“Be my guest.”

Bdubs snatched at a bottle, flipping it in his hand, nearly dropping it trying to look cool, then whipping it at the target across the room, the entire thing smashing right on the bullseye.

“Oh, score!” Scar smiled, and Bdubs pumped his fist.

“Yes! You know, I already feel better. This is great, Cleo, have I told you this is great?”

Cleo looked pleased, exactly the cat who got the cream, “You have. And I know. So how about you boys throw back a couple beers to replace these bottles, and we do a little axe throwing.”

“Are you paying?” Scar asked, hopeful, innocent, but Cleo snorted, shaking her head.

“Uh, no. Don’t let that hold you back, though.”

“Oh, come on,” Bdubs whined, but not without his signature grin, “What’s the point of free rage room therapy hour if it’s not all free?”

“I’m not going to make you pay for the axe throwing either, and that is not included in our little deal, so the least you can do is drink.”

“You can’t make us pay to axe throw with you because we all know you’re going to whoop our asses,” Scar shot back in fake accusation, but Cleo shrugged, a crooked smile across her lips.

“You have fun.”

“I do,” Bdubs assented, earning a sharp jab from Scar’s elbow.

“We don’t! Unless you buy us each a beer, then we do.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Okay fine,” Scar sighed, fully intending on a large tip regardless, since despite her sharp tongue, Cleo would still refuse any sort of compensation for an outing like this, “But you also have to drink.”

Cleo scoffed, the smile never leaving their face. “Who do you think I am?”

***

It was fun. Of course it was fun. Scar lost pretty miserably in nearly every round, though that could be accurately attributed to the fact he was more than a little tipsy, and Bdubs, always spying an opportunity to get an edge, took full advantage. Though, to his credit, Bdubs was having a great day in general, overtaking Cleo in score multiple times, and even winning one or two games. A feat, even against an inebriated Cleo, which, in all honesty, was pretty much the only way Scar or Bdubs could ever surpass her. Etho.. It was safe to say Etho had little talent for the sport. Didn’t matter how much instruction he got, he was nothing short of miserable every time all four of them got together to play. Actually, out of the four of them, Etho was probably the only person who improved when he was drunk, which was always hilarious to see. You’ve never seen a fire lit under someone’s ass like you did when Etho managed to squeak ahead of Bdubs or Scar, the cackling of Cleo only furthering their panic.

Scar did wish Etho was here. He wished he wasn’t so flakey sometimes.

Regardless, when they were done, Bdubs was only two steps away from sober and plenty able to drive. Scar was relieved to have to ride, and even more so that he hadn’t brought his own car in the first place. It was a nice drive home, anything but quiet, and really, just what Scar needed. The less time he spent alone with his own thoughts, the better. Though, after such a nice evening, tonight was going to be a little easier.

Thanking Bdubs for the ride, Scar stepped out onto the cobblestones once they reached his apartment, taking a deep breath before going inside. It was okay. He was going to be okay.

But there was one little habit he had developed, a little something he couldn’t quite shake despite knowing it wasn’t doing him many favors. It had only been a week since Mumbo had disappeared, but Scar refused to miss it if the mermaid ever did return- he couldn’t, even if Grian wouldn’t be in the picture anymore. This still meant something. Scar wasn’t about to give it up so easily.

The trail cams were still open on his monitors when he sat at his desk. Of course they were. Scar never closed them.

So there he sat, chin in his hands, eyes glazed as he watched every angle of that little cove. The trees, waving gently in the breeze. The sand, shifting ever so slightly in the presence of bugs and crabs. But mostly he watched the water. Scar never stopped watching the water.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #scarian #hermitshipping #grian #mumbo jumbo #bdubs #bdouble0 #bdoubleo100 #mumbomaid au #zombiecleo #etho #ethoslab

[punsmaster69]

10/MAR/20XX

HELLO, THIS IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SPEAKING!

I AM WRITING THIS AS I CARRY MY... MILDY TIPSY BROTHER HOME FROM GRILLBY'S, WHERE HE SPENT THE AFTERNOON.

HOW AM I WRITING IF I AM CARRYING HIM, YOU MAY ASK? WELL, IT'S QUITE A GENIUS SOLUTION, REALLY - BLUE MAGIC!

USEFUL, ISN'T IT??

NORMALLY, I WOULD CARRY HIM WITH MY OWN STRONG AND RELIABLE ARMS, BUT HE REEKS OF GREASE AND SOCIAL SITUATIONS AND ALCOHOL.

——

UPDATE ON MY BROTHER:

HE HAS HANDED ME SOMETHING AND SAID THAT IT IS HIS PAGE FOR THE DAY.

IT WAS A NAPKIN. HE WROTE "JOUNAL ENTY" ON IT.

——

UPDATE TWO:

I HAVE RECEIVED CONCERNED MESSAGES FROM MS. TORIEL ASKING WHY SANS IS SUDDENLY INCOMPREHENSIBLE IN HIS TEXTS, AND OVERZEALOUS WITH HEART EMOTES.

——

UPDATE THREE:

HE IS IN THE KITCHEN.

WHAT IS A "COOL MILK".

CONCERNING.

——

UPDATE FOUR:

"COOL MILK" IS AN ABOMINATION OF MISCELLANEOUS CONDIMENTS AND MILK.

DESPICABLE.

HE CHUGGED THE WHOLE THING.

——

UPDATE FIVE:

THAT BOOK HE'S READING IS UPSIDE DOWN.

WHEN I ASKED HIM WHAT IT SAID, HE WAS ABLE TO RECITE IT TO ME WITH PERFECT ACCURACY.

——

UPDATE SIX:

DR. ALPHYS HAS ALSO NOW MESSAGED ME, DOUBTFUL OF SANS' SOBER-NESS. I CONFIRMED HER SUSPICIONS, WHICH SHE WAS UNSURPRISED TO FIND WERE CORRECT.

——

UPDATE SEVEN:

HE SOMEHOW PULLED AN ENTIRE BAG OF CHIPS OUT OF HIS POCKET, AND IS NOW PUTTING THEM IN A BOWL.

SANS DOES NOT EAT CHIPS FROM BOWLS.

MONITORING WEARILY.

——

UPDATE EIGHT:

HE TOOK SOUP LEFTOVERS, SOME SPAGHETTI, SALT, AND PEPPER... AND ADDED THEM TO THE CHIP BOWL.

?????????

——

UPDATE NINE:

UTTER DISGUST.

HE CONSUMED EVERY BIT OF IT, EVEN NOTING THAT IT WAS

"pretty tasty."

AND HE SHOULD

"make that again sometime."

ABHORRENT.

——

UPDATE TEN:

AH

UPSIDE-DOWN GAMING.

HOW CIVIL.

...???

——

UPDATE ELEVEN:

I DON'T KNOW AT WHAT POINT IT OCCURRED, BUT HE'S STILL UPSIDE-DOWN AND VERY NOT-AWAKE.

I'M PUTTING THIS HEATHEN TO BED.

WAIT. I SHOULD WAKE HIM TO HAVE HIM BRUSH HIS TEETH, AND WASH OUT THAT TERRIBLE BREATH FIRST.

AND MAYBE MAKE HIM SHOWER.

𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘕 I'LL PUT HIM TO BED.

——

UPDATE TWELVE:

THE SKELETON WAS BATHED, SMELLS MUCH NICER, GIVEN SOME WATER, AND APPROPRIATELY TUCKED INTO BED.

I'M THANKFUL THAT HE WAS ABLE TO EASILY FALL ASLEEP AGAIN.

IT MEANS THERE'S AN EVEN NUMBER OF UPDATES NOW!

——

UPDATE THIRTEEN:

AS IF EXPLICITLY TO SPITE ME, SANS GOT UP, TRIED TO GRAB HIS DIRTY JACKET FROM THE WASH, AND THEN WENT BACK TO SLEEP WHEN I STOPPED HIM.

P.S.

FRISK'S BAD LUCK SEEMS TO HAVE RESOLVED OVER THE NIGHT.

#undertale #journal #papyrus #sans #sans and papyrus #papyrus and sans #skelebros #soriel #sans x toriel #sans and alphys

[wren-of-the-woods]

On Doomsdays and Devotion

After the Enterprise’s most recent brush with death, Jim notices that Spock is sticking closer to him than usual. The conversation that ensues is unexpectedly impactful. This is 2.5k of pre-Spirk feels, rated G. On AO3 here!

Jim was fairly certain that Spock had been following him. 

It did not happen all the time. It did not disrupt either of their duties. In fact, it had taken him a few days to convince himself that he was not imagining it, especially since he was still distracted by dealing with the fallout of their most recent incident with a planet-killing weapon. Still, once he started paying attention, the fact remained: when Spock would normally have been off on his own doing science experiments or reports or whatever else Spock did when he was away from Jim, he was, instead, quietly by Jim’s side. 

Spock sat next to Jim at meals. He accompanied him in the gym. He sat in the same room as Jim when they were doing reports. Even when they were not together, Spock often found reasons to pass Jim in the corridor, speak to him briefly, or grab something from whatever room Jim was in on his way from task to task.

Jim did not mind this. In fact, he probably should have been slightly worried about just how little Spock’s frequent presence bothered him, but he could not quite bring himself to analyze that part of his feelings too deeply. Suffice to say that he was not irritated by the shift in his first officer’s behavior. He was, however, slightly concerned. 

At one point, he attempted to bring it up with the Vulcan in question. 

“Mister Spock,” he said, smiling, “Is there something you would like to discuss with me?”

Spock blinked at him. If it were anyone else, Jim would almost have said he looks sheepish.

“No, captain.”

Jim bit back a sigh. He did not expect Spock to simply tell him whatever was going on, not after so many days of silence, but it still would have been nice.

“Very well,” said Jim, and the conversation was forgotten. Jim almost began to ignore the unusual occurrence entirely.

Then, one night, well over a standard week after the incident with their most recent planet-killer, Jim suddenly found that he could no longer hold himself together. 

He was off duty, which was fortunate, but that was just about the only thing that felt fortunate about the situation. The events of their most recent adventure — the death of his friend, the possibility and reality of such destruction, how close he had come to his own death — had finally caught up to him, and all he could do was hightail it to his quarters and hope he made it before his crew has to witness their captain having a minor meltdown. He ended up hiding in his room for a good portion of the evening, a few hours which he would rather not talk about, before eventually deciding he had pulled himself together enough to justify going out in search of some food. 

After everything, it really should not have been a surprise that Spock was there when he emerged. 

His first officer was attempting to look nonchalant, but given that there was very little reason for his presence in this corridor at this time and it was highly unlikely that he simply happened to be here at the moment Jim left his room, Jim thought he was doing a rather poor job of it. He looked distinctly unsurprised by Jim’s presence. 

“Mister Spock,” he said, trying to act casual and not as though he had spent the last few hours working through a series of extremely strong emotions. “Is something wrong?”

Spock looked at Jim consideringly for a moment. Jim resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze. 

“The ship is in standard working order, captain,” Spock said. 

“That isn’t a no.”

“Correct. You are experiencing emotional distress.”

Jim winced a little. “That obvious, huh?”

“To an average member of the crew, likely not. I, however, can make out eleven separate physiological and psychological signs that—”

Jim raised a hand to cut him off. “Very well, Mister Spock, I understand. You’re right.” He quirked a small smile. “Even the great Captain Kirk can’t see his friend die without experiencing any unpleasantness, I’m afraid.”

“You also came close to death, captain.”

Jim blinked. “Yes, that too, I suppose.”

Spock’s lips thinned almost imperceptibly, but he said nothing. For a moment, they stood there in rather awkward silence. 

“Well,” said Jim eventually, “I was going to get some food. Would you like to accompany me?”

“I would find that acceptable, captain.”

Spock fell easily into step beside him as they made their way towards the mess hall. They were silent as Jim got some food and sat down with his plate. Spock sat across from him, though he had not taken any food from the replicators. The room was empty due to the late hour and the lights were dimmed. In the silence, Spock’s presence seemed to have more significance than really made sense. 

Jim ate in silence for several long moments. Spock considered him from across the table. Eventually, to Jim’s surprise, it was Spock who broke the silence. 

“Would you like to speak about the subject of your distress?” asked Spock. 

Jim paused. His instinct was to refuse, to focus on the mission instead of his distraction and only talk about it later, perhaps in his logs or on shore leave with Bones and copious amounts of alcohol. He usually did his best to keep Spock from having to deal with any more of his human emotions than is necessary. But Spock was asking, now, and though the Vulcan would deny it if he ever dared to make the claim, Jim could tell that he was worried. He could not bring himself to refuse his friend’s offer.

“It… troubles me, when I can’t save someone.”

Spock’s brows furrowed. “You were not on the ship at the time of Decker’s departure. It was not your responsibility to save him, nor was it possible for you to do so.”

Jim managed a small, sad smile. “I know. That doesn’t mean it’s easy to remember.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, and they returned to the silence in which the meal had begun. Jim finished his food, pushed his plate aside, and looked at Spock consideringly. Spock returned his gaze, even and unflinching.

“There’s something on your mind, Mr Spock. Care to share?” 

Spock considered him for a moment. When he spoke, it was with deliberation.

“It concerns me, captain, that you give such little importance to your own near demise.”

Jim blinked. 

“I had no desire to die,” he said.

“And yet you came perilously close to doing so.”

“It was the best way to save the ship.”

“Perhaps, sir, but you must take into account the way your death would have affected the ship and its crew. Productivity would have decreased at a significant rate and the emotional fallout would have affected many of the crew for at least several years.”

Jim frowned. “A grieving crew is better than a dead crew. I wouldn’t be much of a captain if I couldn’t value my ship above myself.”

“You may be correct, captain. However, I would still strongly advise you to utilize more caution in the future.”

Jim’s brows furrowed. “Where is this coming from, Spock? This isn’t the first time I’ve almost died.”

Spock hesitated. Jim noticed, for the first time, a shadow of vulnerability hidden bleeding through the edges of Spock’s mask of Vulcan control. He felt his expression soften.

“Spock,” he said gently, “Why have you been following me?”

Spock looked down at his hands where they were calmly clasped together, resting on the table. “It is illogical, captain.”

“You? Illogical? Somehow I doubt that.”

“Even the best of us have our flaws.”

Despite the strange tension in the air between them, Jim could not help but chuckle at that. 

“Very true.” Then, when a moment of silence went by without Spock responding, he prompted, “Well?”

Still looking at his hands, Spock paused for a moment before speaking. “I admit that I would have found it most disagreeable if you had lost your life in that mission.”

“I wouldn’t have exactly been pleased with it either.”

Spock continued as though Jim had not spoken. “Were you to perish, the ship would feel your absence most keenly.”

Jim considered him for a long moment before, throwing caution to the winds, he spoke. “And you? Would you feel it?”

For the first time in several moments, Spock finally looked up and met Jim’s eyes. “I admit that I would, captain.”

Jim swallowed. If Spock were human, Jim would have reached across the table to take his hand, but as it was, he contented himself with holding his earnest gaze. 

“I’m sorry I concerned you.”

“Thank you,” said Spock. “Though I admit that I appreciate it more if you refrained from doing so again in the future.”

“You know I can’t promise that, Spock.”

Spock’s brow furrowed slightly. “I am aware, captain. However, that does not mean I am pleased by this fact.”

Jim smiled a little, gentle and a bit sad. “I thought Vulcans were not capable of displeasure.”

Spock looked Jim in the eye, tilting his head slightly. “When it comes to you, I find a great many capable of a great many things.”

Jim opened his mouth. He closed it again. 

“I see,” he said, rather lamely. 

Spock frowned. “Captain, I do not think you realize the importance of this matter.”

“It’s my life. I’d say I have a pretty good sense of how important it is.”

“And yet you are acting as though you do not realize how significant it is to those around you.”

“A captain’s life is lived in service of his ship and his crew”

“The importance of your existence is not found solely in your captaincy, Jim.”

Jim gave Spock a long, considering look. “Are you trying to tell me something, Spock?”

“It is also found, among other things, in your status as a friend.”

Jim was silent, digesting this. Spock looked at him for a long moment, then, unprompted but with uncharacteristically visible hesitance, spoke again. 

“I have been maintaining a proximity to you that is closer than average for the last eight point three days because, unreasonable and improper as it may be, I have found your presence an illogically reassuring reminder that you did not, in fact, perish during our last mission.”

“Oh,” said Jim softly.

This time, he was unable to keep himself from reaching out to place a hand on Spock’s sleeve, just above the wrist. Spock looked down at the place where their skin didn’t quite touch, seeming to consider it, but did not protest the contact. Jim took this as permission to leave his hand where it is. 

“I’m sorry to have caused you pain,” he said. It was a testament to the weight of the conversation that Spock only frowned slightly at this, not bothering to protest the implications of emotion in Jim’s statement. “I’m safe now. I promise I had no intention of letting the universe get rid of me this easily.”

Jim paused for a moment, thinking, then forged ahead with all the boldness of the man who had recently faced death without flinching.

“You know I had to do it, though,” he said.

Spock’s frown deepened slightly. “The machine’s destruction was logically necessary for the sake of the galaxy. However, the specific method chosen was perhaps not—”

Jim held up a hand to stop him. “I’m aware of your thoughts on my methods. I’m talking about my motivation.”

Spock’s frown grew less displeased and more considering. “In that case, please elaborate.”

Jim couldn’t help a small, fond smile at Spock’s words. “I knew it had to be destroyed for the sake of the galaxy, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking about when I did it.” His smile faded into seriousness as he spoke. He maintained eye contact with Spock. “I was thinking about my crew. About how my friends— my family would be destroyed if I did not act.”  He gently squeezed Spock’s forearm where his hand still rested on his sleeve. “I was thinking about you.”

Spock was silent. Jim studied his face, trying to parse the emotions he could almost feel hiding behind Spock’s Vulcan control. There was surprise, he thought, and perhaps confusion, but also something deeper, perhaps more vulnerable or more tender. He could not make it out. 

Jim found that he could not let this conversation stagnate in silence, not without knowing for certain that Spock understood him. 

“So,” he said, “I hope you realize that this feeling goes both ways.”

Spock’s brows furrowed just slightly. “Clarify.”

“I… value your presence. Very highly. I, um,” Jim paused, took a deep breath, then forged on quickly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He swallowed. “Please don’t make me find out.”

Spock paused. He considered Jim for a long moment. For some reason, Jim grew increasingly nervous under his scrutiny. 

“I am gratified to know that you understand the sentiment,” Spock said eventually. “I will endeavor to act in the interest of self-preservation.”

Jim relaxed a little, letting a smile slip onto his face. “That’s all I can ask for. Thank you.”

“And you will endeavor to do the same?”

Jim lifted his hand from Spock’s arm and held it out to shake. “It’s a deal.”

Too late, he remembered the vast differences between the cultural norms of humans and Vulcans when it came to touch and fingers in particular. He made to withdraw his hand, slightly sheepish.

Before he could move and without breaking eye contact,  Spock reached forward and took his hand. 

Jim felt a spark of warmth, almost a tingling sensation, travel up his arm and down his spine at the touch. Spock’s hand was dry and very warm. His gaze was serious, earnest in a way Jim rarely saw from him. Jim found that he could not look away. 

“A deal,” Spock repeated, his voice soft and low. Jim found himself fighting back a shiver. 

Before Jim could pull himself together and return to his senses long enough to speak, Spock released his hand and stood. Jim looked up at him, blinking dumbly, as Spock nodded at him.

“This conversation has been most profitable, captain. Thank you for your time.”

“It— uh, it was my pleasure.” Jim winced internally, abruptly glad the room was empty but for the two of them. He doubted his suave reputation would survive intact otherwise.

Jim could have sworn he saw Spock smirk at him as he turned to go. He found himself smiling softly in return as he watched Spock leave.

When Jim returned to his quarters, he found that he felt much better than he had when he left them last. The emotional toll of the mission was not completely lifted, of course, but the reminder that he had his first officer at his side made it feel easier to bear. The thought of Spock’s concern for his well-being made him made him feel oddly warm. 

And, if it was the memory of Spock’s hand on his — of the warmth of his touch, the thinly veiled feeling in his eyes, the emotions that sparked in Jim’s own chest at the contact, and the promise of, maybe, someday, something more — that eventually lulled him to sleep with a smile on his face, that was no one’s business but his own.

#star trek tos #spirk #kirk x spock #james t kirk #spock #star trek #wren writes #*waves shyly* hello star trek fandom! #this took FOREVER because writing has been really slow lately but i finally came up with a title i'm happy with so here you go :D #there should be more fic for both witcher and star trek on its way soon! <3 #also first fic of 2024 let's go!!!! #man it's been ages since i posted a new fic that wasn't a collaboration

[spookygibberish]

@july-19th-club HI I just thought I'd respond to these EXTREMELY flattering tags because they were the push I needed to finally get around to listening to the Xenogenesis series. I've been meaning to check out Octavia Butler for a really long time, and after finishing those books I'm actually mad at myself for not getting around to it sooner, because like, holy shit.

Looking at the books I've enjoyed the most out of all the titles I've listened to in the last year, to picking out commonalities and trends, I came up with:

Explorations of speculative societies and cultures

Xenofiction! Inhuman perspectives, inhuman thought processes; monsters, aliens, and animals as perspective characters

Alienation. Relfect the experience of living in a society which is strange to you, persisting, finding value and beauty in a world that is ugly, complicated, and hostile

Body horror, shape-shifting, transhumanism

Surreal imagery and situations

Often violent, often sexual, (frequently both at once...). strongly visceral

Unsurprising preference for sci-fi over fantasy (it's much more prone to high concept strangeness, though on a surface level I like the trappings of fantasy more)

A LOT OF THESE ARE DOWNERS but I noticed there aren't a lot of straightforwardly bleak endings, I guess I can't resist that uncertain glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel... barring what they say about oncoming trains

Given all that it turns out Xenogenesis was baisically laser targeted to appeal to me and I'm incredibly grateful for these tags for nudging me to nudge Butler to the front of my queue.

#ive also already got at least one of my friends to start listening bc i NEED someone to talk to about these #also yes i have been cataloging my book listening and collecting exploits in spreadsheet form whats it to ya #catwings feels hilariously out of place on this i know but the audiobooks i have are narrated by Le Guin herself and they make a profoundly #cute and pleasant 2.5 ish hour listen #off topic #books

[summertimemusician]

Linktober, Day 1

Merchant

*walks on in, drops this, mock salutes, refuses to elaborate* Shorter one this time because Ravio is a delight but also incredibly difficult to write for me and because sadly I've been too busy latelro fully figure him out. I apologize to all my fellow Ravio lovers out there, ALBW's was my third game and I really have a soft spot for him and Legend as a result. Maybe next year I'll write something longer or him or a stand alone.

Can be read as both pre romantic or platonic on either end, as well as non LU whatever floats y'all's boat I'm just here due to self indulgence and the LoZ/LU fixation hitting full force lol.

Meeting Ravio was always a bewildering delight.

Coming to Legend's Hyrule and watching his house being converted into a shop each and every time was always a great source of amusement to you and the Chain, the Lorulean always made sure to almost knock the Veteran to the ground with a rabbit worthy tackle with a delighted call of 'Mr.Hero! I'd recognize that annoyed lilt coming up the path anywhere!', hopping along the road as soon as you crossed the orchard boundaries to witness whatever glorious change he made to the house's exterior advertisement campaing (much to Legend's horrified ire), then turn to the Chain with a gleam in his verdant eyes that seemed to scream 'BUSINESS!' with the sound of clinking Rupees for added comical effect, shrewd and always looking for an opportunity to sell, rent or buy for expand his own business reach.

The clear soft spot Legend had for him was equally in half parts comical and sweet, it was in the way how he seemed to soften the feral fox sharp bite of his acerbic bladed tongue. How he let Ravio handle the cooking as soon as you had been welcomed into the house (although given the lack of cooking skills among many members of the Chain, maybe that was for the best), how he relaxed just a bit around the merchant being at his back or leaning against him in all sorts of ways even as he snapped against allowing Ravio to sell anything to you all in the Chain (for good reason, you saw Ravio's prices and had no desire to sell an arm or a leg for any of his goods) and how Ravio knew just how he liked his apple and cinnamon tea and how he knew Ravio was delighted by the existence of latte's once you reached Legend how to make them with Wild.

It was interesting to watch to say the least, specially given how Ravio behaved around anyone else, light footed, always watching and a bit skittish, always ready to run and take his goods with him if needed be. A survivor through and through and given your similar situations, you could respect that though you sadly weren't close, you heard bits and pieces from Legend when he felt generous or reminiscing or complaining about how Lorule was like, so to be able to make a living as a merchant there and stand up to it's queen was quite admirable, specially for a self proclaimed coward though you sadly couldn't interact much in account to the world hopping (no you're not bitter Dark Link or Hylia or whoever is up to controlling the portals you just want to talk, preferably with your fists or trusty dagger).

Which was why when the merchant approached you one fine afternoon in the orchard where you were picking apples for breakfast (determined to help this time before either Ravio or Wild could get to the kitchen), chatty as always and with the patented business smile on his face you couldn't help but be half baffled half unsurprised as you can hear Legend's previous warnings your head, as this really was inevitable.

"Look, Rav can be a bit much and a bit weird, and sure you may want to smack him over the ears for always sniffing for the opportunity to make rupees like a Like Like on the prowl. But he means well and is a really nice lad, just- tell him a firm no if he tries to sell or rent you anything alright?"

"Oh hello there!~ Fancy meeting you here, isn't it?" His voice skittered up on you as he slipped to your side, steps quick and light, Sherrow thrilled at you from between the ears of his hood, coy as a rabbit trying to pass unnoticed in the woods, assessing and prodding.

You couldn't help a small quirk of an eyebrow, reaching up for one of the bright red apples closest to you, "We've been here for at least a week now Ravio, if anything it's a miracle we're only talking now given we see each other every day."

He nodded, long sleeved hands waving around as he spoke, you think you can catch a hint of a smile on his voice, less business like, "Indeed! Didn't expect Mr.Hero to pick up anymore strays, although I did believe he was complaining less coming up the path so that should have been my first warning." He extends his hands towards the basket, head tilted, making Sherrow move to his shoulder with a little chirp, "Need some help with that?"

"That depends, will you charge me for it if I say yes?", you rib back, lips quirking a bit at the affronted gasp and mock swoon from the Lorulean.

"Why! I would never, you're a guest of Mr.Hero's, it would be bad manners to charge you on your first week here." Sherrow nodded along with a little thrill, and you almost fully believed him, almost. He sounded too innocent.

"I'll keep it in mind for next time then." You chirped back, cheerfully as you dropped an apple by him, the merchant laughed, picking up the basket anyway and letting the apple fall inside.

"Oh I like you, it's no wonder Mr.Hero sounds less grumpy when talking about you." He nodded to himself, not fully relaxed, but more loose now at whatever discovery he'd made, you tilted your head with a blink, "I feel like this will be the start of a wonderful friendship!"

You smile back, amused despite yourself, "I'm afraid I'll have to charge you for the honor."

He laughed, shoulders shaking as he accepts more of your dropped apples, "Honestly that's clever, I should have thought of that when meeting Mr.Hero the first time! 'Ravio's Friendship Services for Rent, Advice Free of charge!' Think that would attract a good clientele?" You can swear he winked beneath the hood. Cheeky.

You couldn't help but laugh with him, you know, Legend was right, Ravio was really nice.

He eventually sobered up, tone soft, "I mean it though, Mr.Hero talks well about you." He shrugs a bit, distinctly sheepish and serious, a paradoxical mix but in a way, it fit, "Well, don't tell him I told you that, I think we both know he'd agree to nothing, but I'm glad he has someone looking out for him you know? I know I couldn't do half of the stuff he does, just help from the sidelines, so thank you, for looking out for him."

You blink, softening a bit, you can't see his face beneath the blue eyes of the hood, but you don't need to. In the end, you both care about Legend, so it makes sense he'd want to get a feel for you himself, "Of course, and that's not true, you know? Legend is... definitely a hard nut to crack, but to say he doesn't care about you and what you did for him would be a lie. So if anything, thank you." You smile, a bit helplessly, "I just do what I can, but I wouldn't be able to do if not for you looking out for him first."

He pauses, stilling, too still and a contrast from the way he was so jittery before, but then nods firmly, something like relief coloring his voice as well as pleasant surprise, the chirper tone making it's reappearance aftef a second, "Of course, I'm his most reliable salesman of course! I need to look out for my best and favorite customer!", he clears his throat, is that a hint of crimson on his cheeks? You can't tell beneath the scarf, though you can recognize the immediate conniving tone to his voice, "So... Mr.Hero talks well about me, huh?"

Ah yes, the need for blackmail material. Somehow you're not surprised.

... To be fair, you're curious yourself too. "Help me with making fruit tarts for breakfast and I might consider a mutually beneficial exchange of information."

His grin widened, almost knife sharp, "Only if you help me organize the merchandise at the shop after! We have much to talk about I believe."

You are so glad you passed whatever unseen test he was putting you through. You offer him a hand, "Deal."

You shake on it, understanding being conveyed without words.

Legend was dear to you both, so you'd both work together to look after him.

(Much, much later, after waking up from the first goodnight of sleep he had in a while, Legend will find you both in his kitchen, Ravio chattering enthusiastically as you both enjoy your hard work on the tarts over hibiscus tea, discussing the history of his many, many items and Ravio's goods and be simultaneously filled with warmth he'd take to his grave and feel a chill go up his spine. As if he's made a mistake somehow.

Ah well, it will probably be the best among his many other mistakes.)

#linked universe x reader #linked universe legend x reader #linked universe ravio x reader #both unnamed Reader and Ravio thus become wine gossip friends and gently bully Legend into self care with Fable #he can't tell if he should be indignant or flusteredly glad for it #ravio x reader #can be read as pre relationship of not #Summer Writes for Linktober

[utilitycaster]

Anyway in thinking about the fact that the Calloways are complex, I really love how Chetney approached the situation. My hunch is that Travis out of character (and Chetney in-character) wanted to have a one-on-one with Birdie as they swept away the footprints but didn't get a chance, so he ended up joining the scene with everyone else instead to preserve the flow. I do think that a private conversation with Birdie probably would have made more sense, but what we got was still excellent.

Chetney knows Yu was specifically planning to assassinate the Calloways; that Morri almost certainly lied about the postcards; and that Ira is amoral and has shown himself to do some pretty harmful stuff. He knows there's a lot that's not quite adding up and a history of deception (and, as a blood hunter, he has some knowledge of the fey). He's established himself to be pretty familiar with the practice of thievery (and I would be unsurprised if he's also familiar with the practice of, say, sabotaging devices, given the backstory hints we have). He also has been remarkably delicate with the feelings of the party, Fearne included. In all, he's uniquely positioned to have a bigger picture perspective than the rest of the party when it comes to this whole scenario.

He poses the question of what device the Unseelie Court was building as an accusation against Ollie and Birdie - but it's not an unreasonable one. Either the Calloways did in fact just stumble in and pick the most crucial part by sheer luck, which means they're likely in well over their heads and aren't addressing that; or they know more than they're letting on. It becomes quickly clear that it's the former. Which, given that Yu's still out there and the Moontide Crown is literally in the room with them, is highly relevant information that Bells Hells needs to know.

It also has a second purpose: once he brings this up, Fearne catches on very quickly and points out that what the Unseelie Court was building is in fact important information to have, and from there all three of the Calloways look towards Ira. It leads them to it and forces Ira to very obviously evade, whereas directly accusing Ira might have incited the group to another tedious argument a la Birdie and Yu earlier in the day. It then indirectly lets Fearne address the time discrepancy with her parents, which again shifts the conversation towards what deals Ira may have made. In many ways, Chetney is all of Fjord's deftness with absolutely none of the charm, and this is a great example of it. For all I enjoy Ira, he absolutely isn't trustworthy, and this is a remarkably subtle way for Chetney to, in-universe, keep that in the minds of the party when there hasn't been much time for private conversation.

Edit: So I actually messed up the order of events above (kept for posterity): Fearne asks her parents whether she was a gift for Morri very shortly before before Chetney makes his accusation. So I'd interpret it a bit differently: Chetney's reading the room a bit more, seeing that Fearne is willing to consider that her parents might be flawed and that it's safe (so to speak) to bring this up too without upsetting her. He also knows Ira's very clearly evading the first question and now has significant reasons to doubt Morri's intentions, so it's again, maneuvering the conversation to point to Ira. The other points all still stand though; he's still a thief who's spotted some discrepancies in the story.

#critical role #chetney pock o'pea #fearne calloway #ira wendagoth

[thesummerestsolstice]

Part three of my little series on the Rivendell guards! Meet Hrivossa here and Celecoll here! Today we're covering the founding of Rivendell in the late Second Age, and my headcanons for how it happened, as well as how Elrond and Celecoll met.

It is the Second Age– 1697 to be exact

(Fair warning I've messed with the timeline and events a bit, but this isn't too far off of canon)

Eregion has just been destroyed

Elrond was there as Gil-Galad's lieutenant; he was there mostly alone, no one expected the city to fall so fast

Elrond was there with Erestor and a few others, which should've been fine, but he gets separated from them in the fighting and ended up unconscious

In the aftermath Elrond is actually captured by Sauron's forces, though not immediately identified

And while the party of orcs was dragging him off to Sauron's fortress, a vaguely feral figure in a cloak stepped in to save him

Everyone meet Celecoll again! She's been living alone in the woods hunting Morgoth's forces and refusing to engage with society for the past couple thousand years! I'm sure she's fine

(Yes, she does know that Doriath fell after she left, yes, that did compound the guilt crisis, yes, she did almost drown when Beleriand sunk, yes, this has all been amazing for her state of mind)

Anyway Elrond wakes up in her camp with his injuries treated, very quickly realizes that Celecoll's doing not great, and manages to convince her that he really needs as escort back to Lindon

(Look, Celecoll is an old soldier clearly suffering from some flavor of trauma, and Elrond really wants to help her, even if he knows she doesn't feel like she deserves that help)

Problem: Morgoth's armies have completely cut them off from Lindon; hell, no one in Lindon even knows if anyone survived the Fall of Eregion

Elrond manages to join back up with Erestor and the others, who were able to escape before being captured with a few of Eregion's people

They also meet Glorfindel, who rode out of Lindon on his own when he heard about the fall of Eregion and just managed to sneak past Sauron's lines before everything really went to shit

Elrond quickly realizes they're all going to die if they stay out in the open, and instead leads them to a valley that had caught his eye when he was traveling the region earlier– a place hidden and defensible enough for them to hunker down there until relief comes

It had called to him, and he'd wanted to come back to it, but hadn't had the chance

On the way, they also join up with a few orcs who are– look, it's complicated, there was a kidnapping and some surprisingly productive cultural exchange– they're basically Elrond's friends, and because they turned traitor against Sauron, they're also liable to be killed

Normally, several people there (especially Celecoll) would be completely unwilling to team up with orcs, but the situation is dire enough that nobody complains about a few extra sets of eyes and hands to help out

Tension dies dies pretty quickly between everyone all things considered, there's not a lot of room for distrust or anger when you're all constantly fighting for your lives together

When they finally reach the valley, they are as follows: Elrond, Erestor, Glorfindel, Celecoll, and a few assorted elves, half-elves, and orcs

There are a couple dozen of them total

And they have to turn the valley into a siege fortress in the hopes that someone will find them before Sauron's army exterminates them all

Given the circumstances, it's maybe unsurprising that they don't waste too much time coming up with a name for the valley

They call in 'Rivendell'

Here's the part where I play with the timeline a little– the siege ends up lasting for years

By that point, the people of Rivendell– especially Elrond– have grown very attached to their valley

And Celecoll decides to stick around, and try her hand at being a guard again

Tomorrow I'll write about what happened after the seige broke, as well as the eternal feud between Celecoll and Hrivossa. Also, the Tolkien wiki ended up being super useful for this post!

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #rivendell #imladris #elrond #elrond peredhel #erestor #glorfindel

[genshxn]

(Y/N) Come Home

Part 3 of Taking Ls in the Abyss

i had some childe brain rot towards the end of it and it shows lmao - also there’s a bit of a cut-off, but that’s just cuz i’m gonna split this second event at the bar into two

ft. aether, diluc, albedo, rosaria (new!), yelan (new!), childe

TAGLIST: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@q804 @veralioz

word count: 3.8K (that’s why i’m splitting it up lol)

It had been 3 days in Teyvat since you had gone missing. Word had spread like a wildfire through your crowd of new-found "acquaintances" that you had gone missing. Worries were raised, particularly since you had been living in everyone’s heads rent free. The search search spanned from Mondstadt forests, Liyue mountains and Inazuman seas. Missing persons cases are handled by the Knights of Favonius, so they were searching for you themselves. Beidou heard the news and offered to look for you out at sea in the event you had somehow found yourself on another boat. Even the adepti were keeping their eyes out for you, should you come stumbling into one of their abodes.

Aether is in and over his head since he was the one that was supposed to be looking out for you specifically from the Abyss. Every minute you were gone, it became more and more obvious that you had fallen into the hands of the Abyss. It's a matter he would prefer to tell as little people as possible so as not to create any more worry than necessary. But as usual, no word uttered in Tevyat goes unnoticed, so a sort of task-force had been automatically assembled, more or less against his will. The group stands at the foot of a cliff face not far from Dragonspine, supposedly not far from some sort of domain with Abyssal ties. 

Standing before him is Diluc, Albedo — both relatively unsurprising, given they know about the Abyss — but also Yelan and Rosaria? And of course Paimon is the first to express confusion at their appearance. 

"Wait, HUH?! What’re Yelan and Rosaria doing here?" Paimon tugs on the end of Aether’s scarf, pointing vigorously between the two women. The two seem rather nonchalant, but when are they ever not?

"I’m here on behalf of a client, since they are unable to make it personally. That said, from what I’ve heard of this (Y/N), they sound quite intriguing," Yelan replies, tone as cool as ever. "I suppose you could say I’m curious about them myself as well." 

"Oh, so she knows my theory as well, I guess." Aether comments. It would honestly be more surprising if Ningguang somehow didn’t know. 

"That would be correct." Yelan nods. 

"And what about you Rosaria? I must admit I wasn’t expecting to see you here." Albedo adds. 

"Diluc’s paying me," Rosaria replies incredibly matter-of-factly. "He and I… know similar things due to the occasional crossover in business, so he considers me a valuable addition to this. Can’t say I know much about this (Y/N) character, though." 

"That’s about the gist of the situation. But come on, let’s get going. Every minute wasted is a precious minute lost." With an adjustment of his glove, Diluc turns tail and heads toward the domain entrance. 

"Wow Master Diluc, you’re pretty eager, huh?" Paimon jokes, which only elicits an over-the-shoulder death stare from the redhead. 

"It’s the Abyss. Who knows what they’re capable of…" Aether nearly shudders at the thought. He desperately hopes you’re going to be okay. 

Without another word, everyone enters the domain and into the strange ruins that will hopefully descend into the target location. Like all other Abyssal domains and ruins that Aether and Paimon have dredged through, an unsettling atmosphere sets in. Convoluted pathways and strange puzzles barely hinder their pace. Yelan and Rosaria blew past them, figuring them out with only a glance at the apparatuses. But the strange thing is the blatant lack of enemies. Their camps still look fresh and recently used, but there was no sign of any actual occupants. So as a result, the ruins are hauntingly quiet. 

The further they descend, the more Abyssal influence is evident. Albedo notes the strange runes covering the walls, as well as other odd motifs belonging to the Abyss, trying to reason what they could mean. The light fades, and a blueish mist sets in, lowering everyone's view distance. The group must be getting closer. Aether can feel that familiar, unsettling darkness creeping in, putting him even more on edge than before. The winding hallways finally open up into a massive atrium, dispersing the cramped feeling that had been choking the group. There is nothing to be found in the room, except for various piles of debris that had fallen from the roof at some point in history. The dome roof was covered in the faded gilding found in all other domains, filled with enigmatic designs that could mean nearly anything. The only sounds that could be heard is the echoing of the group’s footsteps. 

Everyone comes to a stop in the centre of the atrium, flooded by a white light emanating from above. Radio silence. 

"Something here feels off," Rosaria breaks the silence, scanning around the room. "Something threatening..." 

There’s the sound of some rustling. Everyone’s heads snap in the direction of the sound. Some sort of shadowy mass rears its head from behind the rubble. Shing. Weapons are drawn and aimed at the mass in an instant. It leaps out from the rubble, brandishing two silver sabres, but they clutter to the ground rather unceremoniously once the thing hits the ground again. The group falters slightly out of confusion. 

"WAIT, SHIT—," A familiar voice says. The shadowy thing doffs its mask and hood and shows (Y/N)’s head instead. "I’M SORRY, I DIDN’T REALIZE IT WAS YOU GUYS," 

"(Y/N)?" Everyone asks simultaneously at varying degrees of volume (Paimon was of course the loudest). 

(Now engaging Y/N POV) "Yep, it’s me," you gesture to yourself with added flair. "In the flesh." 

In an instant, Albedo has his hands on your either side of head, overanalyzing your face like a quack doctor. Turning it about in various odd directions, his face gets incredibly close to yours—almost too close (you’re not really complaining, though). 

"Uhh, what’re you doing?" Yelan asks with a mildly confused frown on her face. 

"Confirming whether this really is (Y/N). Their appearance is vaguely different," Albedo remarks, still not letting go of your head. "If you are part of the Abyss Order, your disguise is lacking a little bit." Albedo says to you. He has now turned to scrutinizing your eyes of all things. Your vision is about 90% of Albedo’s face right now. 

"If I was really with the Abyss Order, I would have attacked you already, not dropped my weapons out of surprise." That was a cringe fail moment on your behalf, if you’re being honest. 

Rosaria makes some sort of mildly annoyed grunt and elbows Albedo out of the way, having her turn to scrutinize you. She holds your head with her hands right behind your jaw. Now that she’s right in your face, it’s sort of funny to find out that she smells vaguely like roses. "Hmm… Looks human to me, but…" 

"But?" Diluc asks from behind her. 

"Something’s still off." Are you just perpetually off to her?

"Yeah, cuz I spent 3 whole-ass months in the Abyss." You reply, staring Rosaria right in the eye. 

"Hold on, 3 months?" Now it’s Yelan’s turn to ask you a question. "But you were gone only 3 days. What are you even implying?" Rosaria moves out of the way to let Yelan through.

How do you explain that you’re aware you’ve done a Childe? Fell into the Abyss, trained like hell, made it out alive to tell the tale, only to find out a measly 3 days had past. Maybe the easiest explanation is no explanation at all.

"Wait, it’s only been 3 days?" You feign surprise. You’re going to have to keep up this act if you don’t want to raise suspicion. "Wow, the Abyss is even weirder than I thought." No, you already knew this crap. 

"Yeah, you’ve been gone 3 days in Teyvat. A lot’s happened here since you went missing, but clearly even more happened for you," Aether chimes in, approaching with a floating Paimon in tow. 

"You’re gonna have to tell us everything that happened!" She wiggles her arms around excitedly. "And the best way to tell stories is over a meal, Paimon says!" 

Everyone stares at Paimon. "You just want an excuse to eat." Aether deadpans in response. 

"No no, food sounds great. I need some real human food, not the weird shit they have down here." You motion behind you with your thumb, thinking about all the weird food they’ve got. The inordinate amount of soggy mushrooms in the Abyss has put you off them for a bit. "If you guys want to interrogate me more, then please do it with some food. Who knows, maybe it could even be a date?" The last part was added just for the sake of throwing a wrench.

Diluc coughs, Aether looks away awkwardly, Albedo clears his throat while looking to the side, Rosaria raises an eyebrow, and Yelan laughs slightly. 

"And who is that aimed at?" She asks, looking confused but amused. 

"Anyone who's interested," Looking around, everyone’s averting your gaze besides Yelan. "Anyway, how do we get out of this dump?" 

"It’s back out this way," Aether finally stops being awkward and points back in the direction where they came from. Just before you take off, you go to pick up your weapons and put them away again. In the process, you feel someone’s eyes on you. Once you turn back around, you briefly make eye contact with Diluc who had been watching you. Unsurprising, since he’s quite cautious. You pretend to just not notice it. 

On your way out of the domain, you still feel various pairs of eyes on you at all times. You and Yelan had taken a position in the middle of the group while Aether led you out of cavernous ruins. Trailing behind was Rosaria, Albedo and Diluc. It was those three that seemed the most suspicious of you. Or maybe they kept looking at you for other reasons. You’re the centre of a harem now. It really could be either reason. 

Maybe being in the Abyss made you lose some inhibition, but you’re able to keep up a banter-filled conversation with Yelan quite well. Instinct said that she still had her guard up, which is understandable given you’ve just emerged from the Abyss on your own, but she’s surprisingly talkative. Then again, this is probably just be her wringing you for information. 

"Yeah, so while I was down there I somehow managed to convince the Abyss Order not to kill me on sight. Thanks to either dumb luck or a god-forged silver tongue, I got to learn some combat from them." That whole thing of a silver tongue is a decorated lie of course. You know exactly how you convinced them, but no way in hell are you going to actually say that it’s because of what is literally just stupid harem powers. Despite that, Yelan listens incredibly intently. 

"Silver tongue forged by a god, huh? Maybe there’s an element of truth to that," Yelan laughs. "You’re not too bad at talking." Has she been gotten by you too or is she committing psychological warfare? You’ll probably never know. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Aether repeatedly glancing back at you. Paimon’s clearly noticed it too because she’s looking back and forth between Aether and you. She squints, looking incredibly suspicious. She flies over to Aether and whisper-yells something in his ear. His reaction catches everyone off guard, because he suddenly outbursts a loud "NO!!" while his face turns almost as red as Diluc’s hair. 

"What’s all the screaming about?" Rosaria asks from the back. "…Aether, why are you so red?" 

"I’M NOT RED! P-PAIMON JUST ASKED SOMETHING STUPID!" He stammers. 

Albedo tilts his head. "And that stupid question is?" 

Paimon begins: "Is he je—"

"AND THE ANSWER IS NO!" Aether immediately clamps his hand down over Paimon’s mouth. "Come on, we’re nearly at the entrance! Let’s hurry up!" He walks off with his hand still right over Paimon’s mouth, who of which looks like she’s seen a ghost. You blink a couple times. You know exactly what she asked, judging by that reaction. The answer is a blatant yes. You didn’t think he had it that bad, but then again, you don’t really know the extent of your own abilities too well. 

People decide to not press any further, lest they want to get their mouths clamped shut too, so everyone carries on in silence. You finally breach the surface after what felt like months. Good lord, did the late-afternoon sun feel good. 

"(Y/N), you wanted food, right?" Diluc asks once the last person piled out of the domain entrance. "Do you remember the place where you ate on your first night here?" 

"Your bar, Angel’s Share. Like everyone was there and then you guys got into an argument where I should stay the night," You laugh when remembering how you had everyone practically throwing themselves over you. 

"…And then what happened after that?" Albedo joins in. By the looks on their faces, they’re testing you. 

"I ended up going back to the Knights’ HQ for a bit, but then I managed to sleepwalk all the way to Beidou’s ship and ended up in Inazuma."

And that was the right answer. Albedo and Diluc both look happy with that answer, but Rosaria just frowns in confusion. 

"Anyway, speaking of Angel’s Share… can we get some food. I’m starving after taking out that whole domain."

"Mondstadt’s close by so we can get something there— wait, WHAT?!" Paimon yells, not quite immediately computing your last comment. In fact, no one does. 

More preoccupied with food, you begin to take off in the direction of Mondstadt. You’re able to tell its direction based on solely environmental cues. "Yeah, I took out that whole domain. That particular path out of the Abyss was shifting around a lot, and I’ve been trying to find a way out for a while now. It was almost kind of boring, to be honest." The truth of the matter is a little more than that. Lumine and some of the other folks in the Abyss Order were reluctant to let you go, but your inadvertent dominion over them made it possible. Besides, the other Lectors that you hadn’t slapped adamantly wanted you out. It was them that told you about those strange ever-shifting domain pathways connecting Teyvat and that weird half-way point. 

Your entourage still seemed unable to compute what you just said. "But… you were still learning how to use a sword when you first disappeared." Aether jogs up behind you to catch up. 

"Yep. Now I use two." 

The rest of the way back to Mondstadt felt far longer than it should have been, but that’s mainly because you’re hungry. By the time you get there, the sun had set and the evening cool was starting to set in. You gravitate over towards Angel’s Share, just like the first night. Honestly, you’re also after some alcohol given the amount of crap you’ve been through. Once you’re in the door, the familiar atmosphere of the first night sets in. Everyone grabs a table and plants themselves down. Yelan’s sticking around likely with the intention of interrogation, while Rosaria originally intended to come to Angel’s Share. 

Once food orders are placed, Yelan gets right back to business. 

“So (Y/N), you never quite finished what you were saying back in the domain. You were talking about how spending 3 months in the Abyss made something about you somewhat ‘off’. What did you mean by that?” Yelan asks, leaning back in her chair. She’s not particularly subtle with her intentions right now. 

“Oh, that. Hang on. Albedo, what about me specifically did you think was ‘off’?” You nudge Albedo, who was sitting right next you. He appears to jump at the sudden contact. 

“U-um, overall your face is slightly more mature, there are faint traces of new scars, and there’s something strange about your eyes.” Albedo looks right at you as he says that, likely scrutinizing your eyes again. 

“Would you say it’s like the light in my eyes is gone?” You ask. 

“…Yes, that’s one way of putting it, actually.” 

“You also have a strange aura.” Rosaria pitches in with her contribution. “It’s not quite a bloodlust, but it's not far from it.” She looks at you from behind her long lashes, tapping her clawed fingers against her jaw. 

“Welp, there you have it. That’s what the Abyss has done to me.” 

“And about your combat abilities. You say you took out that whole domain?” 

“Ye—“ You begin but are quickly cut off by a familiar voice. 

“Hmmmm? Someone did whut?” It says with a drunken slur. That’s not Venti, that’s— You turn your head and lo and behold, there’s a drunk Childe leaning on your table. What is he doing back here?

The entire group looks immediately startled by his sudden appearance, which he gets jokingly offended at. “Whaaat, you guys hate me that much? So meeean,” but he’s quickly back to his original purpose for turning up here. “Now. Domain? Who diddit?” 

Everyone points to you. 

Childe finally looks properly at your face and has to do a double take. “(Y/N)?!” He blurts out far too loudly. Heads immediately turn towards you. “WHEN’D YOU TURN UP?” 

“I just got her—“ 

You’re cut off again a second time by Childe, but this time he dramatically leans against you on his knees, hugging you while shedding a drunken tear. He’s acting like a complete child. What a way to live up to his name. “I missed you, (Y/Nnnnn)… I go’ told you’re back and t'come here t' Angel’s Share, but you weren’t here so I got sad ’n started drinking...” 

“It was only 3 days or something, though…" You awkwardly try to reach around and pat his head in some strange effort to comfort him, but it’s short lived since he quickly unlatches himself from you and does a 180º of the topic. 

“Anyway, you did that domain all on your own? Tell me more, tell me more,” Childe looks genuinely excited by the notion of you soloing the domain. 

“Gods, I need a drink if I’m gonna watch this shit.” Diluc complains from somewhere behind you. Everyone else, including Aether, echoes in concurrence. 1 round of shots are taken in the background. 

“Yeah, so uh. I’m not battle-incompetent anymore. In the time I was missing, I learnt to fight. From my perspective, I was gone much longer than 3 days.”

Childe falls silent upon hearing what you said, thinking. “Ah yeah, it was the Abyss that nabbed you, right?” 

You nod. He of all people would know exactly what happened to you, drunk or not. He sits there, brain cogs actively turning, drunkenly trying to puzzle together what all of this means. Just like Albedo and Rosaria earlier today, Childe grabs the side of your head and pulls your face in awkwardly close to his, scrutinizing your eyes. “Hah, you’re just like me now!” He pulls outward again, letting go of you. “I always wanted to fight another one of me!” A second round of shots is knocked back in response to that stupid-ass line. 

“Wait, here and now?” You ask in semi-disbelief.

“Yeah! Why not?!” Childe pulls you up and out of your chair. 

Before Diluc can actually angrily explain why you idiots cannot fight in the middle of his bar, you’re in the middle of the hall, guards up and ready to go on command. All other patrons, even the bartender, have unintentionally suspended activity to watch what’s going on. 

“No weapons, ’til the other surrenders?" Childe bounces from one foot to another. His hands remain loosely at his sides, guard wide open. That just goes to show how confident he is. 

“Go easy on me, I’m fresh out of training,” You reply, mimicking his foot movement. 

The two of you snake around each other, waiting for the other to strike. You concede, going in for the first strike. It’s swift, almost a blur, but Childe easily dodges it. He strikes. You weave, following up with counters. All of them miss. It’s a strike and dodge deadlock for the first bit. 3 months ago you would have been out instantly, but now you’re actually holding out against a Harbinger of all people—albeit a drunk one. 

You sweep Childe’s legs out from beneath him with your own leg. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, but he recovers instantly. He returns the favour by sweeping your leg fowards, sending you backwards instead. You’re back on your feet immediately. 

“Haha, you’re not too bad.” He pulls away for a second and moves in to attack again. You dodge out of the way and get to a point adjacent from the support beam. You jump towards it, launching off it with the leg closest to it and bring down the other in a high axe kick. Childe narrowly misses, but you twist your body mid-air, which he wasn’t expecting. You land a strike on him. That earned the third round of shots. 

Taking his brief moment of falter, you drop to the floor and go to knock him over once again with a sweep of your legs. Down he goes. Before he can get back up again, you commit to a move of your own invention by pulling him further towards you and sticking yourself right on top of him, straddling him with his arms pinned above him. Childe’s already drunk-dusted face burned brighter at this rather compromising position he found himself in. 

“You surrender?” You ask, smugly looking down at him. 

Childe can barely articulate an answer, his brain is now so scattered. “Y-eayyh.” 

Back at the table, everyone watched on with mouth-half agape. That was an entire Harbinger you just beat in hand-to-hand combat. The legitimacy of your methods might be debatable, but that was still a win at the end of the day. Childe looks well and truly scrambled now, just like everyone else at that table. 

Diluc in particular looked like he was processing it the worst. His alcohol tolerance must be quite low because after 3 shots, he’s gone. Supporting evidence: him blurting out “(Y/N), do that to me.” 

And they heard him. “Sorry, what?” 

“…Did I say that outloud?” 

“Yep.” 

“Fuck.” 

“So even Master Diluc’s not subtle whatsoever, hm?” Albedo teases a bit.

“Oh, don’t act like any of you don’t want that either.” Diluc hangs his head in his hands, now completely exposed. “I saw you all looking at (Y/N) like that today.” 

No one says a word, but they all know it’s true, Rosaria and Yelan included. Everyone else hangs their heads in their hands. This is going to be a long bar visit… After all, the night is still young and more people are only just starting to turn up. 

More coming soon lmao

<- ep 4.2

#tw alcohol #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #isekai series #aether x reader #aether #diluc x reader #diluc #albedo #albedo x reader #rosaria #rosaria x reader #yelan #yelan x reader #childe #childe x reader #tartaglia #tartaglia x reader #why must this mfer have like seven different names

[umbracirrus]

WIP Whenever 💛

Work is quiet (it's barely 9am though, so unsurprising), and so, I'm posting a WIP... Got a busy few days coming up that I forgot about so this is probably the best opportunity that I've got!!

I was tagged by @thequeenofthewinter, @oblivions-dawn, and @bostoniangirl21!☺️ I'll catch up on all of yours later!

-----

How had she forgotten just how cold it was here?

Elyse felt a shiver go down her spine as she wrapped a woollen blanket she had been given around her shoulders. Her cloaks, her coats, her gloves, her scarf - all of it was in Dragonsreach still. It wasn’t as though she could go back to get them either... She couldn’t bring herself around to doing that. Not yet. Her emotions were still too heated to face anyone there – Balgruuf in particular.

How could he have done such a thing without so much as consulting her? Or even telling her of his intentions, of the risks which her personal decision was entailing?

Perhaps what hurt her most was the promise that she would be safe. From the moment that she had read those words from Ulfric, and learned of what Balgruuf had done... She had stopped feeling safe. An important decision had been taken away from her, and following on from her journey to defeat Alduin... One thing that she learned about herself was that the ability to make her own decisions was sacred to her. Those who took them away from her... Took away her autonomy... Many of those people she now deemed either unsafe, or an enemy. In some cases, both.

Thankfully, the Greybeards were neither. Their words – or at least the few which were not of the thu’um – were of guidance or wisdom.

Elyse quietly thanked Master Arngeir as he placed a bowl in front of her as he decided to keep her company in her silence, steam radiating from the pale-looking broth within.

“Something troubles you, Dragonborn.”

She didn’t respond as she kept her hands on her lap, lightly bandaged fingers digging into her trousers. Following her hasty and anger-fuelled exit from Whiterun, it head turned out that she had caused quite some damage to her hands. Bloodied scrapes from hitting the wall dusted her knuckles, and though not quite frostbitten from the midwinter chill and the death-grip which she had of Odahviing’s scales as they flew through the skies, they had needed to be slowly and carefully brought back up to a normal temperature. She hadn’t bothered with casting a spell to try and patch them up, the stinging and soreness helped with reminding her that this was real. Kept her grounded. “I’m just... considering my options. That’s all.”

Arngeir gave her a discerning look, it being obvious that he knew that she was tip-toeing around the exact truth of her situation. However, he didn’t press on the matter. That was one of the things that she quite liked about High Hrothgar... For that matter, Balgruuf – because of course it would have been him – had articulated the exact reason in a way better than she ever could have done over three years earlier.

A peaceful place, very disconnected from the troubles of the world.

The perfect place for reprieve.

#meg has done some writing #dragonborn oc elyse #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #fic - the perfect storm #in summary - grumpy dragonborn runs away from her problems by hiding with her mountain grandpas

[thorns-and-rosewings]

And here we shall have the Part 4 of the Reaper King AU💀. With this one explaining some of this families relationships between family members and more of the story I have so far for this AU.

TW: LOTS of mention of murder in this one. Also touching on some really more sensitive topics as well.

-Killcode is not a pacifist at all and indulges his need to hunt and kill regularly. He's not always picky about his targets, he's fine killing animals just as much as people. His particular favorite animals to hunt are Bears (As they fight back and it's a challenge) Mountain Lions, (A mix of speed and strength and a good fight) and Elk. (A prey animal, but extremely fast. Excellent for agility training)

-He does enjoy cooking, but his family often lack the patience and happily eat meat raw... Seeing as how none of them are technically human anymore it's unsurprising their tastes have shifted from their humanity with humans occasionally being on the menu.

-Also they are no longer human and have developed very unnatural powers, KC teaches his adopted children how to make use of their new abilities. Usually against human visitors to their domain.

-For example, in the winter they will find some campers who were stupid enough to get too deep in the woods and Wendigo will exert his power over them... Making it feel 10x colder than it is and an unnatural hunger will overtake their victims. Leading to cannibalistic situations.

-The family usually is nearby watching... Bloodmoon making bets with his sibs on who is gonna live or who dies.

-Its necessary to understand that all of these kids had been through truly horrific experiences prior to being adopted by Killcode and Bloodmoon. They each happily have rejected living amongst humans ever again and essentially shed their humanity, resulting in their new inhuman forms.

-None have any qualms or cares about killing humans of any sort. BUT they are careful to abide by their fathers laws. Which probably helps anchor them to some shreds of humanity still left within themselves.

-The two older children, Wendigo and Banshee have sometimes discussed their lives prior to their adoption by Killcode and linger on some of the good memories... For Wendigo when his mother was still alive, before he was just left with his abusive father. For Banshee it was when she lived with her grandparents before they passed and she reverted to the care of her drug addict mother and her boyfriend of the week...

-They will even occasionally visit the graves of their deceased loved ones to tend them. Often bringing flowers... KC actually completely understands this and has even helped them find some flowers to leave on the graves before.

-Lycan and Vampire lack any really decent memories of familial figures, having spent most of their lives in crappy foster homes. They only had each other for the longest time and were a bit more of a handful for Killcode in the beginning... But they were in ways very similar to the Bloodtwins, so they were able to forge a bond with Bloodmoon a little faster before eventually accepting KC as much as the rest of their adopted siblings.

-They are the most feral of the formerly-human children, in spite of their young ages they can cause a lot of chaos. Much to the amusement of Bloodmoon.

-Wisp is essentially the odd one out of her family. Not only due to a significant age gap between her and the other kids, but because she was technically brought into the family by BLOODMOON rather than Reaper Killcode.

-Believe me this was a shock to EVERYONE

-Short version is that Bloodmoon was hunting and had been planning on breaking his fathers laws... He'd been stalking a young family with multiple children but the youngest was clearly treated with disdain than any of the other loved children. The older children were left at the campsite while the parents went to spend some quality time with the youngest... Who looked so happy to be being given attention...

-Until they tried to throw her off of a cliff... actually seeming to succeed. Only to turn around and get ripped apart by the extremely angry murderous animatronic...

-Something about being singled out to be unloved by a parental figure, whereas others were given affection just sent him into a manic episode.

-But she survived, courtesy of a branch jutting out from the cliff. Now Bloodmoon did retrieve her, but he planned on killing her (Quickly though; an odd mercy from him) But the way she clung onto him and cried... Even when he put his hands on her neck to snap it... He just couldn't do it.

-So he brought her home.

-Obviously getting the story, KC was initially pissed that Bloody intended to disobey him... But... He let it slide because it became clear that he IS learning some restraint. And he accepted this new addition to the family with open arms.

-For a bit she was particularly clingy to Bloodmoon which was understandable, but made him regret his mercy... But in a bit of time it evens out to her being clingy to all of her new family. And she mutates into her 'Wisp' form extremely quickly.

-Once mutated she resembles a girl made of a tongue of blue flame. She regularly floats around her siblings and her size is apparently negotiable. With her often becoming very small. She might be able to grow but doesn't seem to want to... But her power as a Will O'Wisp means she can lead anyone to anything. Which means she can find anyone hiding in the woods.

-She is undefeated in Hide and Seek.

-Even though time has passed she is still particularly close to Bloody. And he does make use of her ability to find prey for him... But he also genuinely likes her company.

-Now getting back to recent times...

-Shortly after the adoption of the baby, Killcode has to significantly reduce his hunting time, due to the fact he had to care for a newborn which required more attention. The whole family did help out as well, which drove down the amount of disappearances and deaths in the park.

-During this lull in deaths... A new Forest Ranger was hired. A nice soul... Who genuinely doesn't know what they just got into.

(I literally have no clue about a name or really anything about this character yet. So this part is pretty incomplete atm sorry 😅)

-After lasting longer at this job than most, this individual opts to walk the trails... Just as a thick fog is rolling in.

-At this time though, the older kids are watching the baby so KC can go for a hunt with Bloodmoon. And amongst the swirling mists, this Park Ranger encounters the Reaper King face to face.

-But something happens...

-Killcode gazes at this individual and just... Freezes up... Much to the confusion of Bloodmoon and the human escapes. But KC stops Bloodmoon from hunting them down.

-Bloody is not upset, actually way more concerned about his father as this has never happened before. And KC is clearly unnerved as well. Because he doesn't know what happened himself...

-Over the next few weeks, Killcode is staking out the ranger station. He's delibrately observing this human... And he's pretty confused about why he actually feels something, let alone how the more he observes them... The more this feeling grows.

-He's worrying his kids.

-But Bloodmoon groans as it hits him... And he drafts Wisp and Ban to help him with a project.

-He has Wisp steal the humans phone... He needs to make sure something is there... (And it was) While Ban acquired a laptop.

-After this all the kids encouraged KC to go out and hunt by himself. To get his mind off things. Frankly he suspected they were up to something but he did go off to hunt.

-Once he left, all the kids gathered around their eldest brother and the laptop...

Wendigo: So... What exactly are we doing?

Bloodmoon: Something we never imagined we'd be doing... Ever...

Vamp: Ordering a veggie pizza?

Bloodmoon: No... Far worse...

Banshee: What-?

Bloodmoon: 😒 We're going to set up a Tinder Profile for our father...

#tsams #tsams au #fnaf #fnaf au #the sun and moon show #dca au #dca #sun and moon show #tsams bloodmoon #sams bloodmoon #sams bloodtwins #tsams bloodtwins #the sun and moon show killcode #sun and moon show bloodmoon #sun and moon show killcode #sams killcode #kill code moon #killcode #tsams killcode #Killcode kc #fnaf kill code #Sadly Bloodmoon realized what was going on and remembered that the previous Killcode had that app #He loves KC and wants him to be happy... unfortunately he is really weirded out by this #Reaper King AU

[caramel-catss]

night owls

on ao3

word count: 2.5k

the chain bonding at nighttime; legend and twilight smoke together

Legend asks for second watch. Nobody protests, but Wind raises his eyebrows at the thought of volunteering for such torture. Twilight doesn’t think much of it; as long as there’s someone to relieve him from first watch, he doesn’t care.

So they settle in for the night. As Wild’s fire dies down, Legend and Time play their ocarinas together. They flow into an easy harmony, like they’ve played together all their lives. It’s probably something to do with the Hero’s Spirit. How else would he have been able to howl a true melody with another wolf?

Wind, always a pirate, tells the others stories that only make them worry about what’s out there in the Great Sea. Four gets antsy, and so does Hyrule, and the two end up throwing small knives into a tree to shake off their energy. Twilight recognizes them as ones Four has been slowly working on whenever they spend time in his Hyrule.

Eventually, the first drifters begin to snore. This time it’s Sky (unsurprising) and Time (a little surprising, but only a little). Wild hands Twilight the fire stick, then joins in. Twilight stretches and sets in for watch. Everyone knows who the wolf is by now, but still, he’d rather they sleep before he takes a trot around the place.

It’s maybe half an hour before Legend bids him goodnight and rests his head on his pack, the last one to go. Legend’s always been like that, taking more watches than he needs to and skipping out of any extra sleeping hours he can. It’s a bit confusing, because wouldn’t the Veteran, of all people, know that proper rest is important?

Twilight pokes the fire one last time to make sure it’s gone out, then he stands and walks some paces away from camp. He needs them in hearing distance, at least - once he’s in his wolf form, he’ll easily sense any danger that might befall them, but he stays close just in case. They’re in Wild’s Hyrule right now, and while nighttime ambushes aren’t nearly as common as they are in other places, Twilight can never be too sure.

He takes the crystal into his hand and shifts. The wolf takes as long stretch after his fur fully covers his body. He resists the urge to howl, though it is very much there. He’s not even in a situation in which he needs to. He just likes howling.

After pulling his limbs, Twilight sets into a trot around camp. He can still smell the lingering taste of dinner. It was some of Wild’s freshest tonight, cooked with fish from the river not five minutes away. Wild almost tried to catch them himself, but Time had given him a look for so long that he backed off. Twilight and Time had got to enjoy some fishing time together.

Tonight is nice. A gentle chill, not unwelcome, sets into his fur. It feels fresh, like the wild is welcoming him in with open arms. Twilight feels at peace.

He takes several circles around the camp, then dares to make way to the river. The night gives him a sudden boost of energy, and he jumps in with his paws. He surprises himself with actually catching a fish or two. He happily enjoys them as a snack.

Twilight checks the moon and determines that his watch is almost up. He makes way back to camp, ears up to make sure nothing is coming, then-

A rustle in the plants catches his predator's senses. Twilight’s head whips around, and he crouches, slowly making his way through the brush. He can smell something burning, but it’s small, consolidated. He sniffs the smoke, and… dammit, did one of the boys wake up? Who in Ordona’s good name decided to get high in the middle of the night!?

Twilight internally groaned. Well, fuck. If he gets reported to Time he’ll have it. He peaks a little further to make sure that the smoker is someone in their group. His head pokes out of the brush.

An arrow, knocked and ready, stares back at him. Behind it is Legend, eyes red. He’s sitting on a fallen tree, the joint laid to his side.

You’re joking, Twilight thinks. Legend blinks, shrugs, and places the bow down.

“Thought one of Wild’s pack wolves was chasin’ me,” Legend mutters. Twilight accepts this and shifts back.

“I was on my way to wake ya up for yer watch,” Twilight says. “Looks like yer too busy getting stoned, though.”

Legend laughs, a short thing through his nose. He lifts up the joint and holds out his hand in Twilight’s direction. “What, you want to join?”

Twilight raises his eyebrows, but he takes it. He sits next to Legend. “I’m not on watch anymore, ya’know.”

“I’ve been ambushed high before, cleared a dungeon, too. I’ll be fine.” Legend waves him off. Twilight takes a long hit, because it’s been ages since he’s had enough time to sit at the farm and smoke.

“Cleared a dungeon,” Twilight repeats, passing back to Legend. He takes a hit before replying.

“Mhm, for the hell of it. Had to re-rent from Rav like three times.”

“So, not well.”

“Can’t say I’ve practiced.”

Twilight rolls his eyes. Legend passes back to him. He takes another hit, this time curling his lips so the smoke makes an ‘O’ shape.

“Look at you, fancy,” Legend comments. “Should’ve known the moment you called yourself Rancher.”

This earns a laugh from Twilight. “‘Veteran’ doesn’t make me think ya’d be smokin’ at ass-o-clock instead of sleepin’, yet here we are.”

“It’s better than dreaming,” Legend replies. Cryptic. Twilight passes.

Legend leans back after he pulls the paper from his mouth, shifting so his head lays on the log. He stretches his legs until his knees pop.

“Same sky,” Legend says. Twilight grunts in reply, so he continues. “No matter what times… we have the same sky.”

That prompts Twilight to look up. He recognizes some constellations almost instantly. He’s never been much of an astronomer. But if you watch the same thing, every night, even if you only see it for a few minutes after what you’re looking for is gone… you’ll remember it.

And Legend is right. It is the same sky.

“‘s like that’s the only thing,” Twilight murmurs. Legend nods.

“Hyrule’s all fucked up… but the stars never died.”

“I’ll drink ‘ta that.”

“Ha.”

Legend sits back up. Passes. Twilight’s taking his hit as Legend pipes up again.

“You watch the sky a lot, yeah?”

“Hm?”

“Sunsets, we always gotta pry you away. Why’s that?”

Twilight flashes a smile. His mouth goes dry, and ah, it’s hitting. “Only time our worlds are each other’s.”

“You told me that before,” Legend muses. “Talk about it like it’s a lover.”

“She was,” Twilight mumbles. “...I think.”

“Yikes,” Legend says. Twilight huffs, passes. He leans back and sighs as the high kicks in.

“Been a while, huh?” Damn, Legend doesn’t shut up when he’s not sober. That’s fine, Twilight can be a bit of a talker, too.

“Can’t get away from y’all long enough.”

“And that’s why ‘m here now.” Legend has a point.

Legend’s rolling another, and Twilight hadn’t realized their first was out. Legend digs into his bag, which is sloppily laying next to him, and takes out his fire rod. A genius idea dawns upon Twilight.

He reaches down and grabs a blade of grass. He holds it up as far away from his fingers without dropping it, then motions Legend to look.

“What.”

“20 rupees if ya can burn this blade of grass and nothin’ else. Test yer fire rod skills.”

“Shit, you do have a dog brain!” Legend laughs.

Twilight scoffs. “‘Scuse me!”

“Make it 30, I’ll do it,” Legend continues. “Easy.”

So Twilight holds his arm out as Legend shifts to his knees, aiming the fire rod carefully as he taps into its magic. Legend counts down from three, and because Twilight is actually confident in him (and he’s too stoned to actually think about what they’re doing), he doesn’t move a muscle.

Fire rods, in fact, are hard to aim in close proximity. Even more surprising, they tend to send out a set amount of fire with each use, and cannot really be adjusted to send out a tiny flame. Under normal circumstances, Legend and Twilight would know this perfectly well; in fact, under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t be caught dead even imagining doing this. However, it’s ass-o-clock in the morning, both heroes are baked, and there’s a bet involved.

And so, Legend shoots a burst from the rod, it singes Twilight’s finger, and he jolts away before he can even yelp in pain. Twilight’s had burns before, but shit! And he’s waving his hand like that’ll do anything, and Legend is cursing, and Twilight briefly remembers that he just won 30 rupees so he stops panicking.

“Fucking- ugh! Shit, if the magic rod was real, those fuckin’ fireballs, they could’ve… fuck!”

Twilight hums as he gets to his feet. He checks his finger - it’s not too bad, but it is quite red, and Legend’s desperately digging through his bag. Maybe it is bad, then.

Legend practically throws him the fairy, and Twilight pops the lid open without a second thought. The fairy heals up his hand nicely, though it still feels quite warm after. Legend’s still cursing.

“30 rupees,” Twilight reminds.

“Fairy worth more, you owe me,” Legend grumbles.

Twilight just shakes his head until Legend groans even louder and forks over the money. He pockets it with a grin.

“I give you my weed and you fuckin’ scam me,” Legend lights the other joint, which was abandoned up until now. “Not to mention give me a heart attack.”

“Was an honest bet,” Twilight counters.

“Whatever.” Legend takes another long hit, probably to make up for the past five minutes, and then gives it to Twilight. The two fall into silence for a while, trading the joint. Twilight watches the moon slowly climb through the sky.

Twilight’s mind drifts. He thinks about the conversation they had earlier. Two realms, connecting at dusk… Legend has mentioned another world, too. Lorule. That day, he found out about the wolf. He was a bunny, ha! And he mentioned…

“When was the last time ya saw her?” Twilight asked, more to himself. It wasn’t his business. Usually, it wouldn’t even come out of his mouth.

“Her?” Legend questions.

“That girl,” Twilight murmurs. “Said it’s yer fault. I feel that way too, ‘bout mine, sometimes.”

Legend’s quiet. Twilight turns, making sure he’s alright. He stares at the ground with a pensive expression that tells way too much.

“She’s why I don’t sleep,” Legend mutters. Makes sense.

“I get nightmares, too,” Twilight nods.

“No, it’s-” Legend cuts himself off by turning away, gritting his teeth. It takes a few moments, but he then relaxes, taking a deep breath. “Damn, and I’m on this shit to calm me.”

“Haha. You don’ gotta talk about it.”

“I killed her,” Legend blurts out. And Twilight doesn’t know how to reply, so he doesn’t.

A beat.

“I destroyed the world she lived on. I was the only survivor.”

Twilight leans against Legend and pulls him into a hug.

They’re quiet. The weed still buzzes at Twilight’s mind, though he’s not at the peak of his high anymore. Legend stays still, looking out into the distance, wistful. But he leans into Twilight’s touch, enough that there’s trust, so Twilight stays holding him.

“Sorry,” Legend mumbles, after a bit. “Soured the mood.”

Twilight waves him off. “‘s fine. You matter more.”

“Really?” And Legend’s tone is genuine, like he doesn’t know how to mean something to people. The thought worries Twilight.

“Yeah,” Twilight says. “Really.”

Legend leans in closer, and Twilight swings his arm around the younger’s shoulder. It feels like how Twilight would comfort his younger brothers in the village. He realizes that Legend’s not too far off from that. Not related by blood, but if someone asked Twilight who Legend was, he would call him “brother”.

“People care about ya, y’know,” Twilight starts. Legend makes an “mm” sound. They’re still high, but there’s an air of sobriety between them. “Ravio cares.”

“Rav cares about my money,” Legend replies, but it’s weak and they both know it.

“Bull. When ya showed up bleeding at his door last week, he held ya close all night.”

“That’s… that’s different.”

“Sure.”

Legend sighs. “..Complicated. With ‘im.”

“I know that feelin’.”

Legend drops the little left of the joint, puts it out with his boot. His eyes drift to the sky. Twilight’s follow, and he determines that Legend’s watch will be over in maybe 15 minutes or so.

“How’re you supposed to be Link?” Legend mutters. It’s more to himself. Twilight hears it anyway.

“Hm?”

“You do all this Hero shit, and then what’re you? Who’s Link once you drop that?”

Twilight’s heard some stories about Legend’s life from him. Besides the 7 adventures thing, he knows the guy practically lives on the road, only stopping by home to spend time with Ravio.

“I’m a rancher,” Twilight replies, like it’s helpful. Legend’s scoff tells him it’s not. “What were ya doin’ before?”

“Don’t fuckin’ know. I was 12.” Shit.

“Take care of your house much? Saw the orchard outside.”

“I did smithing, once, didn’t work out.”

“Then fuckin’ retire,” Twilight says. “Ya got ‘nough chronic pain to get away with it.”

Legend groans and puts his face in his hands. “That’s what Ravio always says.”

“Try listenin’ to him for once.” At that, Legend purses his lips. “Look, he loves ya. He don’t want ya hurt.”

“I-” Legend shoots up, stares Twilight in the face. He’s beet red. Twilight doesn’t let his expression falter.

“Just sayin’,” Twilight shrugs. Legend sputters a bit.

“Fuck this,” he grumbles, standing up. He’s not actually mad and they both know it. Twilight follows, cracking his knuckles as Legend hoists his bag back over his shoulder. The buzz is starting to subside, but he doesn’t really mind.

Legend starts walking back to camp, deep in thought. He mumbles something about waking up Warriors for his watch. Twilight’s about to let him go, wave him off and go to bed, when Legend suddenly straightens and takes Twilight’s arm.

“Uh, Rancher,” Legend says. “...Thanks.”

“‘Course,” Twilight replies. “Just wake me up if ya need a smoking buddy.”

Legend snorts. “If you don’t try to kill yourself next time, sure.”

They both laugh, then Twilight bids Legend goodnight. As he settles into bed, he overhears Warriors grumbling at being woken up. Then he hears Warriors grumbling that Legend smells like weed, and he’s suddenly glad that he’s assumed enough of a sleeping position that he won’t also be told off. Especially by someone some months younger than him.

Twilight sinks into his bedroll. His limbs feel heavy in a comforting way, like when he goes to bed stoned at home. Tonight felt like home.

He falls asleep quickly, knowing that he’s safe with his brothers around him.

#cw drugs #linked universe #lu legend #lu twilight #caramel writes

[tgrailwar-zero]

ASSASSIN ran.

This is what ASSASSIN-class Servants were good at. Running. Hiding. Striking from the shadows.

Your adversary, however, seemed unfazed and unsurprised.

'BOWMAN': "So it's death then."

The BOWMAN fired one arrow.

The sounds of the heavens themselves ruptured, bright light filled the area like the sun itself had burst to life between the two Servants as ASSASSIN narrowly dove out of the way. Despite his fast movement, the arrow landed heavily against his shoulder as he dove into an alleyway and continued to sprint away, his breath heavy and panicked.

[ Damage reduced to 3 thanks to a Great Success with Agility A! 4 HP remaining! ]

This.

This is why this Servant's face is burned within your mind.

Why you remember his expression so clearly as he stated his True Name. Disappointed. Somber. Determined.

KARNA: "My True Name is Karna. My bow, Vijaya, is the absolute pinnacle of its kind. Crafted for and wielded by Shiva, it ensures absolute victory. You were given a chance to live. That chance is gone."

The bowman's words rung as clear as church bells, even as you drew further and further away.

An announcement of an incredibly powerful Servant, and perhaps an even more incredible Noble Phantasm.

ASSASSIN: "Dammit… dammit!"

Eventually he found a homestead, slipping and ducking inside. The home was filled with the dissipating data of a small family. Digital corpses. Ones and zeroes, and yet the macabre sight began to feel a bit nauseating.

ASSASSIN found himself shaking, which frustrated him more. Even with the arrow skimming off his body, his shoulder was bleeding profusely. A direct hit from that was certain death. Of all the Lair Servants- of all the people to fight- it had to be this one? Caster was easy, his head rolled cleanly off his shoulders. But that was after extensive fighting and wearing him down. Near perfect strategy- this was their ambush- they weren't supposed to be the ones in this situation.

He felt the strength of the T-Summon waning, which didn't do anything to calm his nerves.

ASSASSIN: "I'll be damned if I die here. Caster-- can you hear me, Caster--!"

No response. Was the signal being jammed? The code cast you were using to communicate was top of the line. They'd need to have an ally incredibly versed in magecraft or curses in order to effectively jam them in a situation like this.

This was only the first Lair Servant. This was supposed to be easy. An assassination- an ambush- and now ASSASSIN found himself on the back foot.

You could hear the sound of his footsteps as he walked around. His lack of urgency made the hopeless reality of the situation even more palpable. He spoke, with the same even, dry tone.

KARNA: "I promise to make your death swift... or perhaps that isn't a convincing reason to come out. Hm. It would be easier if you revealed yourself on your own. Trying to communicate isn't my forte."

SERVANT: SLAYING ASSASSIN

T-SUMMONED: [PHANTOM COUNTESS]

Strength: C

Endurance: D

Agility: A (Raised from B)

Mana: C (Raised from E)

Luck: D (Raised from E)

NP: B (Raised from C)

HP: 4/5

MP: 3/7

Maximum Damage (Strength): 7 (Increased due to the amount of blood present!) Maximum Damage (Mana): 7 (Increased due to the amount of blood present!)

#thgw story #thgw: chapter 4 #main post #recall fragment

[twodiamondhoes]

There's No Kind of Atmosphere (WIP)

A Scarian Red Dwarf AU

The door to their bunk slid open, the pneumatics swishing in a way that was familiar to Scar the same way that his own heartbeat was, when it thundered in the silence of being the last alive of over a thousand crew members.

Familiar, too, was the low hum of Grian's light bee, alerting Scar to his presence before he was even all the way through the door. Scar would never admit it, but the sound was nearly as comforting as the rumble of the ship's engine from seventy decks below.

He glanced over at his bunkmate, and was unsurprised to see him sitting at the table by their lockers, fully ignoring his astronav textbook in favor of arguing with the toaster.

"Yes, well, if I wanted a treatise on the universal quandaries of toast, I'd go to you, wouldn't I? But if, say, I didn't, which I don't, then your opinion would be entirely irrelevant."

"Rude," the toaster replied, it's voice still crackling from the last time Scar had punted it across the room. He needed to fix its voice box soon.

"You'll be lucky if you get lukewarm bread tomorrow morning," Scar said, before the toaster could start insulting Grian. They'd be at it all night, if he did, and while Grian might not need to sleep, Scar certainly did. Besides, he knew Grian liked sleeping, liked holding onto the facsimile of life, even if he was closer to being like Mumbo or Etho than he was to Scar. And it would be Scar who'd hear about it all day tomorrow, if he didn't nip this in the bud right now.

Grian stiffened, his back returning to it's usual ramrod-straightness. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth. If he weren't a hologram, Scar thought, he'd be giving himself a devil of a headache. Then again, if ever there was a man who could give himself a simulation of a headache, it would be Grian.

"Fancy seeing you here," Grian said, his voice stiff, impassable. Scar resisted the urge to tell him he wasn't seeing anything, since he refused to so much as turn and look at Scar.

"It might come as a surprise," he said instead, trying to inject some humor into the situation. Sometimes Scar thought it would be easier to tell knock-knock jokes to a wall and get a laugh, "given my magnificence, but as amazing as I am, I do still need to sleep."

Scar could hear Grian's teeth grinding together, which was a feat, considering Grian was a projection made entirely of light, and didn't have any real teeth to grind. Scar would have to applaud Mumbo about his dedication to the facsimile of Grian, at some point.

"Let me rephrase, then. I'm surprised you're sleeping here."

Scar felt the world spin a little at the way that Grian's dark eyes cut over to him, looking at him at last, even as he felt his cheeks heat at the... well at the implications of it all.

"Oh," Scar said, because it was all that he could think of. He swung himself up onto his bunk, because it was easier than trying to figure out what Grian's face was doing, and what what Grian's face was doing was doing to him. He laid back, intending to leave it there, and heard Grian's sharp, irritated exhale. Then, because he couldn't leave well enough alone, he asked, "what do you think of her?"

"She's a git," Grian said automatically, and with a vehemence that Scar honestly didn't expect. He swung himself up so that his legs hung over the side of his bunk and looked at Grian again, ignoring the way his bones went sort of itchy with a feeling he wouldn't name when he did.

"Grian," he said, exasperated, "she's you."

Grian didn't answer. At first, Scar thought that that would be it, Grian would try and ignore the conversation, but then he said, in his most standoffish tone, "It's been three million years, Scar. I've always been dedicated to the plight of women in the world, and I think it's high time we all admitted that women can be gits, too."

"That's not," Scar cut himself off with a groan. It was worse than Grian trying to ignore the conversation. He was being willfully obtuse. Scar hated when Grian was willfully obtuse about things. It made him so much more stubborn. "That's not what I mean, and you know it."

Grian slammed the hologrammatic book closed. It dislodged the simulation of a dust jacket, revealing not Advanced Properties of Physics and You, but the startlingly yellow cover of Astronavigation for Dummies. Scar thought it made a satisfying noise, even if it was a little tinny, not as robust as slamming a real book shut would be. Grian stood up, passing through the chair he'd been almost-sitting in, and tucked the book under his arm. That, more than anything, clued Scar in to how upset Grian really was by all of this. He could pass through objects without trouble--had to, actually, given as a hologram, he couldn't touch anything--but he went out of his way to avoid it. Scar suspected it was another way to hold onto life, whatever way he could.

"Yes, yes," Grian said, his voice dripping with cheer, "we all know how taken you are with her and her space heroics, and her ponytail, it's all a bit sickening, really. Still, when you get around to it, do send me a save the date, so I can have Etho burn it."

"Grian," Scar began, but found he was speaking to Grian's back as he swept out of the room. He sighed, turning to the darkened screen in the corner of the room. "Where did I go wrong, Mumbo?"

The projection of the ship's computer flared to life, Mumbo's face twisted in sympathy.

"I'm no expert, mate, and this is just a guess, but I think it might have been when you asked him about Miss Griande."

Scar groaned again, frustrated beyond belief, and let himself fall back onto the thin mattress of his bunk.

"Lights," he called, and the room faded into darkness around him. He laid there a while, pretending to sleep, until a familiar hum returned to the room.

"Lights," Grian whispered, "dimmed."

Behind his closed eyelids, Scar noticed the lights raise infinitesimally. Something rose in him at the gesture. Grian had to know he wasn't asleep, he jabbed at Scar often enough about his snoring, but he still made the gesture, careful not to wake Scar. Careful to help them both maintain Scar's plausible deniability.

Grian sighed, sounding half frustrated, and half something Scar didn't quite recognize with his eyes closed.

Part of him wanted to ask what was wrong, but with the familiar hum of Grian's light bee finally back in the bunk below his, sleep was already stealing over Scar's consciousness.

#wix writes #rdau #scarian #trafficshipping #(implied) #posting this little wip of my take on what would be the Ace vs Arnie debacle #Ariana Griande: bringer of hope to the universe #vs Grian: neurotic prankster plagued by trauma and the thought that he can never live up to his full potential #don't think too hard about it. the showrunners certainly didn't. we run on roger rabbit rules here.