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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

Note

You're my favorite writer, and König is my favorite aussie man, so OF COURSE im making you write for him, hal, BEAR W ME !

Alright, what do you think about König with the “You’re here late.” prompt? The reader is part of KorTac and always worked alongside König, since they both entered about the same time, because of the readers personality, they are always fighting, one of these fights are specifically bad, leading the reader to go on a mission with another KorTac member, to help out somewhere else and take their mind off things, when the reader face a problem on the mission and ends up arriving late, König is furious.

Moths Hit the Window

PAIRING: König x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Fights with König were always loud, but this time his comments went a bit too far.

WORD COUNT: 5.9k

WARNINGS: Verbal fighting, angst, high tension, blood & stitches, wounds, canon typical violence, guns/weapons, death, suggestive near the end, fluff, hurt/comfort, etc.

A/N: Huge thanks to @idocarealot for the German translations!! Also, König's wearing the arachnid skin in this because I love it sm - enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You seethe. If eyes could turn red yous would be a beautiful shade of crimson—bloody knives ripping out of the cornea to strike whoever happened to get too close. It was as if the very air boiled with the force of a raging tsunami as you stomped down the local military base’s hallways, covered in blood and guts. Never had you reconsidered working for KorTac more than at this very moment.

Maybe I should just become a mercenary, you rip at the torn-apart gloves over your hands and jerk your arm out. Passerbyers quickly avert their eyes as you shove them into a garbage can and continue on with a growl. No shitty rules, no regulations—no fucking partners.

If people happened to slide past without noticing the steam coming out of your ears, they would have immediately locked eyes on the pure elephant of a man trailing fast behind. König’s eyes were goring into the back of your neck, gray and tan garb swaying as the packs and flash grenades on his combat vest bounced with every step. Accents of red do nothing in comparison to his visible flesh—the section of his eyes uncovered by his mask and head rig alight around his obsidian gaze.

König was muttering to himself far under his breath, curses and harsh comments all in German that he wouldn’t say to your face. At least not right now in view of others.

“I can hear you, you dimwit,” you hiss over your shoulder, grinding your teeth as you both make your way to the armory, “curse me out quieter!”

“You are making a scene!” The beast grunts, that heavily accented English striking your eardrums with its harsh dialect.

“Oh, jeez!” You raise your voice even higher, turning back forward and clenching your hands into fists as blood and guts drip off your gear—none of it yours. “I’m just so damn embarrassed, König! I’m making such a large and obnoxious display. Whatever will I do?!” Sarcasm like a valuable drug is injected into the waves of your voice. People from open doorways look out with shock, brows pulled up.

Everyone quickly darts back away when you snap your head in their direction and send them a scathing glare.

No one was surprised to find you and the Austrian going at it again but knew well enough to stay out of the crossfire. Lest someone get roped into it.

“Fuck off!” You spit the last curse into the burning air and shove past a soldier ahead of you.

König’s dark eyes flash dangerously, lips under his mask twisting into a sneer. The man’s shoulders seem to dig in even farther, spine curling over as if a brooding child.

This had all started the second you’d joined up with KorTac. Fresh out of the military and eager to get back into the game after a good vacation the PMC group had been at the top of your list. But if you’d known you’d be paired up with this damn mountain every chance there was just because he’d got into the game at nearly the same time as you, you’d have put in your luck with SpecGru.

“I do not see how this is appropriate behavior,” König follows as you place your palms on the black metal of the armory door, pressing with your shoulders. “I did what I was tasked to do—”

The masked man is cut off as you whirl on your heels, the door slamming shut as his body is shoved into it with strong arms. Dark eyes go wide in surprise, feeling the dig of your nails on his abdomen as your form presses into him and the chill of the door on his spine. You feel his skin bunch under his thick shirt and even if you want to stare him down that’s just not an option. Your warm figures shuffle together with panting breaths and dangerous glints in your eyes.

“Bull,” you drag out the word, growling it right up into his neck; sniper hood caressing your chin. König’s breath hitches with shakes of swirling emotions. “Shit.”

Shoving once more so he gets the point, you push off of him and stalk away like a feral wolf, already unclipping grenades and medical packs from your vest.

“You’re the damn reason the target got away!” Gear is thrown haphazardly to the long table in the center of the room. The Austrian watches with predatory eyes, hands clenched so hard that they quiver. He stays still, watching, as you send scathing glances. “The reason we’re going to be here for ten times longer than we’re supposed to be!”

“It is not my fault you failed to properly check the perimeter before you rushed in like a fool.” Volatile couldn’t be used to describe this…this was nothing short of volcanic. It was as if there were two sides of a scale filled with bullets and gunpowder—fire in the middle that was equally heating both piles as they raised and lowered erratically. König’s voice grates over the air, “I did what I could to fix your scheiße plan!”

“Don’t you shit on my plan!” You point, voice bouncing off the weapon racks as you rip the rifle strap from over your chest, chucking it away.

“I will shit on it—it was…it was…!” König’s voice cuts out and he can’t find the words. The Austrian descends into visceral German ramblings. “Es war so ziemlich der schlechteste Plan, den ich je gehört hab. Welcher halbwegs vernünftige Mensch geht in eine heiße Zone ohne vorher alle Zielobjekte richtig zu markieren?! Ich kann dich und deine Rücksichtslosigkeit nicht mehr leiden — du bringst mich um meinen Verstand! Hast du überhaupt ein Gehirn in deinem Schädel?”

You shake your head to yourself, heart pounding. “You’re still the one that was supposed to focus on the HVT. I rushed so he would flush out, but, no,” taking out the magazine of the rifle you hold it in your hands like an accusatory ruler that a teacher would hold. König shoves off the door and stands to his full height; arms tensed and straining before they coil around his chest in a soothing gesture.

He hated the fighting—the constant strain between the two of you. But when you were together it could never amount to anything else. The room felt like it was a million degrees.

Your eyes stab at him, “No! You had to go and focus on me! I hate to break this to you, König,” feet come forward and you once again find yourself close to him—breathing the same air and taking in the scent of gunpowder and blood. You point the tip of the magazine into his chest. His unseen lips pull; jaw clenching with held-back fire. “But I am not your damn mutt to keep on a leash. I had it under control.”

It’s as if you don’t realize the Austrian could snap you in half with a single kick of his leg, as if the sheer size of König had slipped your mind as a whole. His hands could snap your neck in an instant, but that was only if he got ahold of you.

But that was a line the both of you were never planning to cross. Words were one thing in this profession, actions another. If you ever got into a physical fight, you’d both kill each other, no doubt.

You’d like to think you’re a bit above that, but perhaps not.

König’s chest rises and falls deeply, taking in calming breaths as he tries to get his temper under control. “You didn’t,” he jeers out, “I saved your life, you Heißluftgebläse. And if you wanted to be treated less than a dog,” he grunts to you, head pulling down close to your face, harshly whispering out, “You could have simply asked me, yes?”

You both snarl at each other's throats like rabid animals, the world disappearing all around the obsidian eyes that match with yours; for a moment you get lost in the shining bits of silver in his iris that seem to burn with chilled iron. What little skin you can see is flushed and tight—hawk nose nearly poking out your eye as you’re leaned over like a giraffe near a bush.

Body vibrating, you sharply breathe, “I’m not even going to ask what that fucking means, you tool.”

“Good.” The words are bitten and fast, “because I am not telling you.”

“Great!”

“Perfekt!” You both were arguing like children. Hot faces and unwilling to let the other have the last word. If you got along it might have been funny.

“I’m going to dump all of your Einspänner out on the tarmac.” Your sure voice echoes with a definitive promise to the tone.

Pale lids widen in horror at the threat to the Austrian's favorite beverage, comfortably sitting in the Base’s fridge.

“You would not,” König’s tone is deathly serious and you smirk, eyes dancing. “You…” a guttural growl meets the air, mind translating words and giving meanings, “beast of a woman!”

“Oh, is that the best you can fucking do?!” You yell, splaying your hands out widely and moving away from him. “Now that’s really a show stopper, König, I’m shaking in my damn boots.”

“Ich komm mit dir nicht mehr klar.” König yells, moving back and placing both of his hands atop his head, knuckles white. “You’re rude—you do not even try to get along. You are loud and disrespectful; how do you live like this?!”

Your eyes slightly widen, watching the Austrian.

“Don’t try?” You echo, scoffing loudly. “What do you mean don’t try? I was the one to try and smooth things out between us in the beginning.”

“When?!” König spreads his hands out, knees slightly bent. “Because I have no recollection of such events.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t!” The heat was meeting a breaking point—words were getting more personal, sharper. Like a blade being honed for the kill slowly; being sharpened by rocks and whetstones of conviction.

König points a finger at you, voice going low and thin, “I’ve had enough of you, yes?” His sniper hood moves rapidly with his fast ricochets of breath. “Just about enough. Would you have wanted me to let you die?”

“I had it,” your lips spit, nose scrunched, and forehead tight. The man’s chest vibrates with a mute growl.

In all actuality, you’d never seen him this worked up before. König wasn’t above giving your quips back even if he obviously disliked it—most of that was due to the strange familiarity between the two of you. In large crowds, the man preferred to stay silent. This only added to his almost deadly aura with others, though you knew the muteness was because of social anxiety and not some built silence. He wasn’t shy per se, just afraid he’d say something wrong; mess up the conversation. You did most of the talking in meetings and you never minded it. Added him in when the topic was something he knew a lot about.

Your mind had addled it up to thinking it was cute, actually. How his feet would shuffle; his half-lidded gaze and his intense eye contact to let them know he was still listening. When he’d have to remind himself to look away with a pinch to his thigh because it was starting to seem threatening. It was endearing, even.

But around people König knew, well, he was going to speak his mind. No matter how long it takes his brain to catch up with his lips.

The only thing the two of you were good at was being moths—hitting the metaphorical window over and over on the same topics and tension points. Slamming heads and flapping wings. You were at the end of your rope just as he was.

“I should have never taken you as a partner!” He calls, feet splayed. “Should have gotten out of this the second you were assigned with me. Gott, ich hab wirklich versucht, dich zu verstehen — Ich hätte gleich aufgeben sollen.” Your lips thin, lungs stalling as all the air vacates the room. You stand still and listen to what he really thinks, fingers shaking.

König’s large form towers over all, great sparks of electricity flying out. His gear shakes as he moves, thigh straps pushing fabric to shift and conform to his body. Your blood pumps with brewing hesitance.

Maybe this had gone too far. I’ve never seen him like this.

“I can’t stand you any longer! Pathetic squabbles that mean nothing, absolutely ludicrous plans that make little headway.” Your head bursts with aggression and what little warning signs you have are squashed. “I can’t keep saving you because you can’t do your job correctly!”

“You don’t have to save me at all!” You scream. “You can’t keep your damn eyes off of me for five seconds, König.” Feet move away quickly from the armory door as if someone had come to put away their stuff but thought better of it. The next words burst from you before you can think of the contents. “It’s like you fucking love me or something!”

König doesn’t miss a beat, but for months afterward, he wishes he had.

“Oh, do not make me laugh—” he scoffs ferally, adrenaline making him talk, “as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place.”

Twin eyes widen and both parties immediately fall silent. A sharp inhale.

Too far.

Under the hood, König’s face goes an embarrassing shade of red all the way down to his chest. Fingers freeze. Jaw slackens.

You feel like your heart was just grasped in his grip and ripped out of your ribs with one violent motion—one sentence out of all the others enough to knock down the rebuttal that had formed on the tip of your tongue. Your throat closes up as you blink in shock.

“I-I…” König stutters, mind blanking as he struggles for words. But anger was easier than pain.

Numb fingers rip off the last of your weapons and belongings as you let them hit the floor with defining thuds as warm shame floods your cheeks. Shaky puffs of breath like a panting dog. Dark eyes watch with regretful panic, heart jumping and eyes flinching. The adrenaline it…it made him forget himself on occasion—how to properly act when not on the battlefield. It was like that with everyone but…but he hadn’t meant that.

Shame that it’s already too late.

Your fisted hand slams into his chest, brutal and unforgiving. König lets off a grunt but does nothing as you slither past, hissing into his ear, “Find yourself a new punching bag.”

His hand snaps to his breast where you had slammed your KorTac patch right into his heart, catching it. It’s many moments before he can think enough through the alarm; form words.

“I…I didn’t…oh, du blöde Kuh!”

By the time the man composed himself, panicked tears burning in his eyes, the door had already slammed shut. His feet squeaked over the tile to an empty audience.

—

Private Military Companies don’t have ranks. There are no Sergeants, Lieutenants, Generals or Colonels. Just people. Beyond the orders you’d been hired on, there was nothing keeping you in line with König on this mission. And those orders were loose at best.

Adhere to policy and listen to the Base’s COs. Shut up and get the job done.

The Austrian and you weren’t due out for another week because of rotations. Since you’d failed to capture or kill the HVT that you were assigned, another group had picked up the tracks in the meantime. Like an oiled machine, the gears of this operation kept whirling.

Evolve, or die.

“Lieutenant!” You call to the geared-up man on the tarmac—the one heading that very same group. It had been only a few hours since the incident in the armory. You needed a distraction; blood was still running high and brain pounding for release. There were only so many times you could bruise your fists and legs on a punching bag before people started giving you nervous looks. “Need an extra hand?”

Your voice sounds strained, even to you. The man looks you over once and narrows his eyes. Nods not moments later.

“Get tired of your big friend? Okay, how fast can you be ready for me?” You feel your shoulders loosen, a relieved sigh exiting your lips.

“Three minutes.”

“...get to it then. We move in five.”

So that was how you found yourself backed into a corner five hours into the op from hell—bloody knife held tightly in your grip and mouth open in ragged pants.

“Fuck,” your vest is torn and riddled with bullets; your entire chest must be bruised by now because it surely aches like it is. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You really are reckless, just like König had said you were. Maybe you’d just never realized it because he always seemed to watch your six. This…this was really bad. The comms were awash with screaming orders and panic, ringing out across the abandoned mining factory that exploded with light from gunfire and the sounds that accompanied it. You knew for a fact three soldiers were down; two KIA.

The Lieutenant is one of them.

Your hand snaps to the radio strapped to your chest, one eye squinted in pain at the ragged slice across your left brow line. At your feet, two heavily armed men lay dead.

“Pull back! They knew we were coming!” But your word didn’t carry weight here. Your face twists between pain and rage. König’s comment still rings in your ears as the onset of tinnitus does, as if anyone could ever love a woman like you in the first place. It wasn’t ideal to be thinking about this now—it was detrimental that you didn’t.

But König and the things he did often stained your brain. No matter how much you tried to distance yourself from that fact.

Snapping the knife in your grasp down in an arch to dispel the blood from the blade, you take a steel-laced inhale and shove off the wall. Limping, but moving. Sprained ankle. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

The concrete under you is splattered with crimson viscera and you stumble over spasming bodies riddled with bullets. With a subdued shink you slip your knife into its thigh sheath, grabbing the FTac Recon strapped around your chest after slamming a fresh mag into it. With a numb calm overcoming you, you slip your forefinger into the trigger guard, poised over the easy press of the trigger itself.

The long shadows spread over you; your head illuminated by the dull sheen of the moon as you pass under a stretch of open sky to slink into the building across the empty street. Feral yells still bounce off the air and you go to them readily, purpose settling in your veins.

Pain flies to the back of your mind, displaced by adrenaline and the rabid puffs of breath that fall like grinding thunder from your lips.

You wonder what König’s thinking right now—he’d without a doubt noticed that you were gone. He’d even probably gone to your barracks room to try and apologize and found it empty. That was just how he was.

Would he be happy? You wondered. Relieved to see you out of his life? You’d both done nothing but fight, but there were moments of peace. Understanding.

Shared meals and comfortable, yet sarcastic, comments; soft glances when the other wasn’t looking. Heat in your face and obviously shown on his when shy hands brushed.

Your hold tightens on your gun, brows dripping with sweat as it dribbles down along with the blood. Gunfire flashes.

Closer now.

Shadows scream on top of a raised walkway attached to an in-mountain compound, targets with trigger fingers firing on your fellows who take cover behind crumbling walls. Pinned down. You watch, unseen, from a broken window as dust and moths collide.

Your eyes lock on the closest hostile and you raise your weapon slowly, barrel resting on the frame between shattered glass. You clock the distance and adjust accordingly; breaths falling steady.

The small insect that keeps hitting the window plays in your mind over and over—drowning out the yells; the fire.

Just a moth readily willing to smash into that barrier until it dies. You hum under your breath and rest the gun into the crook of your shoulder, cheek to stock.

Your finger slams into the trigger.

—

You stumble out of the loud infirmary with a bloody rag pressed deeply into your forehead, medical pouch under one arm. You hear rushing feet and barked orders from nurses and doctors just before the door closes, cutting off as you stake out on your own.

Limping, you reason there were others with more severe wounds than your own; as blood drips from your flooded rag, your feet take you deep into the base one broken step at a time. You’d figure it out yourself.

Plus, the silence would give you time to think. Think about König.

You just gritted your teeth and decided that was better than taking up space in the infirmary.

In times like these, the Austrian would fix your wounds for you, just as you did his. While you had your disagreements and heated fights, he’d never made it as personal as he had hours beforehand. Never made it hurt.

“Jesus,” you mutter, rubbing your other crusty hand over the mud along your chin. Everything ached and you don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing.

Flinching along like a downed bird, you shove through into the last door into the barracks; thoughts now stuck on finding a chair to sit down on before your legs gave out. The darkness of the common area was deep—staining your eyelids as you grunt, bumping into the back of the couch.

It’s almost funny the way the lamp flicked on mere moments later.

You hiss, eyes snapping shut as the rays attack your sight, rendering you blind for a moment. The shaking hand on your dripping rag tightens before the spark of pain makes you lighten the pressure.

There’s a dark grunt just as you open your eyes back up.

“You are late.” König.

He sits in one of the chairs—sniper hood still over his head yet only clothed in a large compression shirt and casual camo pants. Like a disappointed parent, the Austrian’s arms were crossed over his chest; feet resting out and crossed at the ankles. With such a big stature the look could strike fear into anyone.

Anyone but you, that is.

König’s dark eyes rove over you, stopping immediately on the fabric you keep to your forehead. The previous, furious, tone stops and the flash of very real concern takes precedence. His hands tighten on his biceps, thighs tensing over the cushion; spine just a little bit straighter.

You watch and say nothing—dead-faced.

Your heart suddenly skips beats, stuck into the framework of the man’s eyes. König’s brows peel back and a timid stutter stays in your breast.

“...Vögelchen?” Lids blink rapidly, and before you can register anything because of your blood loss and fatigue, you’re being dragged to the couch and forced to sit down.

Strong hands encompass your shoulders and small breaths flutter in front of your face as König peels back to kneel in front of you; spying the medical pouch in your under-arm.

“What is this?” He mutters to you, vision flinching along your body but always dragging back to the bloody rag on your face. “What did you do to yourself?”

Scarred hands raise before pausing, obsidian eyes staring deeply into yours as if in frantic question. Your own gaze keeps him close, spying on his veiled fear at the sight of your blood and your disappearance. He’d heard about the mission, then, that much was upfront because of his earlier comment.

The humvee had been late arriving back. Half an hour.

“Fuck off,” you utter, shoving off the couch before you’re captured in an unyielding press again, shoved down. Your anger spikes along with your unease, “König! I don’t have the patience—”

“I’m sorry.” The fight leaves you.

Fingers squeeze your biceps, hold lightly shaking with nerves. “I did not mean it.” Obsidian pierces you, “Please, Vögelchen, I am sorry. Utterly. I speak so fast I misplace words—get far more,” words fail as you stare so intently at him, a strange feeling swirling in your gut. König’s face was going crimson again, though not from anger. His tone was deep and honest, accent becoming more whole with emotion. The hands on your skin stay. “Rude than I intend. It is not an excuse, but…”

In the horizontal oval of his hood, you spy the dots of tiny freckles; the whispers of auburn hair. That hawk nose still points violently from behind the fabric. König never finishes his sentence, just takes a large breath and looks to the side after a moment of silence.

Then he steals the medical pack from your grip and opens the zipper with firm fingers, taking out gloves and gauze. Needle and sutures. It’s all placed on the side table as the bear of an Austrian stays on his knees for you—bending and shifting as the bottom of his shirt rides up.

It’s a tense affair of touching skin; warmth and hissed curses. Gentle shushing. But you say nothing through it. Until he’s up in your face trying off stitches with forceps and a needle holder, breath making his hood lightly caress your bloodless face. His fingers are large and firm, never second-guessing or stuttering over the course of directing tools that dig a needling and thread into your flesh.

He’s warm and every motion elicits shivers. You see his form from the side of your eye; his face’s outline as the lamp light illuminates the hood’s fabric. Shadowy silhouette of König’s strong jaw that shifts with every other breath from his wide chest.

“You’re an asshole for saying that to me, y’know.” you slip your gaze away just as he snaps over. “Adrenaline or not.”

The needle pauses and a swift nod is given.

“I…I know it was. No amount of apologizing can explain how very horrible I feel. It was like I was so…so…” An annoyed grunt was leveled at himself.

“Pissed off?” You offer quietly.

“Yes! Pissed off.” Amused glances were shared, the air slowly smoothing out between the two of you. Dark eyes quickly look away from yours and König clears his throat terse-like. But softer, steadier, “I…could not bear it if I were to see you in harm and be unable to assist you. That…is why I was watching. Why I do watch you.”

Inside of you, it was like there was a pot of water on the stove, steadily boiling under the heat. Your eyes are delicately wide when the man’s hands leave your face; kneeling body still tall enough to stare into you.

“You are…” König pauses, but not to find the words. To ready himself. He takes a long breath. “You are special to me, my Vögelchen. I can not see you hurt,” a gesture to your forehead and creased eyes. As if your pain was his own. “Not like this.”

“What are you saying, König?” You whisper, face twisted with hurt and confusion. Apprehension. “You’re giving me mixed signals. We always fight with each other. I’m not saying I’m blameless, but…c’mon, now. Look at us.”

“Not…always.” He grumbled like a child, tools placed away and hands dripping blood before he slips the gloves off. They meet the side table with a tiny toss. The Austrian leans back onto his ankles, butt to heel. He begins to look at your forehead and you can practically hear his heart break. “I do not like arguing with you, you know that, yes?”

“Me neither,” you whisper, fingers fiddling as a sheen of anxiousness sets in. “You just,” you pause, “confuse me.”

König blinks in surprise, head tilting and large eyes shimmering. Your mind flashes to a curious cat and you try to explain with a burning face and fast lips.

“You say we’re partners but you never act like it,” he stares and listens. When had you both had a conversation like this before? “You make it seem like you can’t trust me to do the simplest task. I’m not,” your voice betrays you, cracking, “I’m not that useless, am I?”

He freezes, muscles going taunt.

“U-Useless? Nutzlos? No, no,” A hand comes to capture your chin and you let him move you where he wishes. Creased eyes lock on yours. “That is not right. You’re not useless to me—how could you be?” Pained brows move in, “did I make you think like this? Like I did not appreciate your skills?”

Your eyes burn, and the aches from your wounds mix with the pure fatigue in your flesh to leave your emotions running between sanity and sadness. A moment later you’re turning your head away.

König recaptures it, hands finding both sides of your cheeks. He looks shaky; desperate.

“No, please, Vögelchen, please. I need you to look at me.”

“König, I don’t—” You close your mouth before you let out the beginnings of a sob. “I can’t keep fighting with you.”

“I know, oh, I know,” his hands are so grounding it’s like you’re the inner pages of a book, and his grip the thick leather cover—leather laced with shared scars and the same that had stitched you up countless times. This push and pull had to end. “I cannot fight with you either—it tears me apart. Oh, du weißt gar nicht, wie sehr es mich schmerzt, dein wunderschönes Gesicht anzuschreien. Mit dir zu streiten bedeutet, meinen Verstand und mein Herz gleichzeitig zu brechen.” König’s thumbs run up and down your skin, still bloody with dried flakes falling to the ground. He seems not to care a bit.

“What can I do to fix this? Anything. Anything to get us to stop doing this to each other.” You stare into his eyes, both creased and glazed over.

There’s a brief moment where you wonder if anyone truly even knew you as well as König did—there was no one else that you shared such a deep connection with. Years upon years of being stuck at his side.

And someone else’s hands had never felt as good as his. They were hard and callused over but cupped your face as gently as one would cup water from a rippling stream. His eyes were stars; visible skin like porcelain, his breath raised a large and wide chest with a fast-paced heart. You could sense his throat trapping air.

König kneeled to you and bared himself.

Anything, he had said, to fix what he had said. To stop this.

There was one way you could think to stop this—it might not have been smart, certainly not, but…hmm…You gradually raised your hand raised from your lap and slipped it under the front of König’s hood.

Slowly, with all the delicateness of a glass dragonfly, your fingers strayed to the side of his neck to press into tight flesh. A rapid pulse.

The man goes to stone. It’s like you’ve stolen his nervous system. Dark eyes stay locked onto yours as you gaze back, hand dragging nails up with a light pressure near to the speed of a slug.

König whispers your name into the empty space and the oxygen seems to dry up. Warm light from the lamp cast phantoms on walls and over skin in a small moment of foreign discoveries. The Austrian swallows saliva and you feel his neck flex. You don’t answer him, just watch and feel his own hands tighten on your cheeks in warning.

But you never listen, do you? Reckless you were called. And König had been right.

You were reckless.

Your hand had now explored like a map the indents of hidden facial scars; long and short over jaw and lips. The hand that was doing this had hiked the sniper’s hood up around your wrist so that the man’s lashes were twitching as the fabric got too close to his eyes. And you watched. And so did he.

A twin pair of moths hitting a glass window, staring from opposite sides at one another until they realized the break in the frame.

“Anything?” You ask in a loose tone, barely heard above the flood in both of your ears.

König was breathing heavily but didn’t pull away. Pupils wide and body heavy to your touch. His spine briefly straightened, until he realized he had moved back slightly and immediately hunched again if only to keep your hands on him.

“I…” he grunts, “A…anything.” Fingers touch his nose, they spread under the hood to trace the bumps and marks he keeps hidden like buried treasure. Your vision takes in the otherworldly hue on his visible skin; the glaze of rapture in his eyes yet still that ingrained heat.

Your body shivers at the gravel in his accented English.

Fingers stall over his lips, hood showing you the pale being of König’s strong chin and jaw. You shift your touch to the side and find chapped lips revealed to you, a small palate scar that had healed to nothing more than a line up to his nostril.

You spare it nothing more than a glance before you look back into obsidian. Dark ether and dead galaxies devoid of stars. Swallowed in a sea of pasts and futures. You look for hesitation; for disgust.

You find none.

“You said that no one could ever love someone like me,” your head leans in, and your breath mingles together with an intimacy that had never been shared between this type of partners. König, as if broken from a spell, takes down a swift inhale of air into his stiff lungs. He stares with far back lids. Flashes of unidentified emotions. “Why did you say that?”

A moment of silence and of rabid hearts. The man’s lips twitch over yours as he answers slowly, not breaking eye contact for a moment. As if he did he’d be turned to rock. As if he’d miss something amazing from happening.

He speaks with a whispered confession.

“Because if they did—I would have to kill them. Because no other than I would be able to love you more.” Your world slows and your ears strain with the breathy words.

Face burning your lips part with shock and awe. Violent to any other, but to you this was a confession from a man that could meet you blow for blow—calm you and infuriate you all in one. Challenge you, but knew when he’d gone too far and how to properly apologize.

He’d waited in that chair for you all night, you’d realized.

For you to come back to him. His partner.

You press your lips to his and hear his pitiful sounds of gasped reassurance. Slipping your tongue into his mouth, you let saliva drip off of your chins to splatter onto bent knees and shaking thighs.

König’s arms cage you; capture your waist and draw you closer, lips breaking apart before you both share a wide-eyed look of momentary pause. There was no room to breathe; to think. Chests hit together and fingers tighten to a tendon-visible hold.

The man's growing smile is wide from where you still hold his hood up by his nose, and with a lick of his red and wet lips, he reconnects your awaiting mouths.

This time, you’re the one to gasp.

“Lass mich zeigen, wie leid es mir tut, Vögelchen.”

NEW TAGLIST SIGN-UP: Here

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n

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onecornerface · 4 months ago

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New study finds cash-transfers didn't have some expected benefits- But why??

A new study (NBER Working Paper) seemingly finds that a monthly cash-transfer ($1000 a month over a few years) to poor people in the US failed to benefit recipients’ mental and physical health or food security in a bunch of ways after the first year. It’s apparently more ambitious than some previous studies of cash transfers in the US. This may be some evidence that UBI doesn’t have all the benefits we’d like it to have for helping poor people or some subsets of them, which could impact future debates on UBI. There may still be consequentialist and/or deontological reasons to support UBI, but we need to ensure they’re aligned with the best evidence on the (good and/or bad) results (or lack thereof).

I’ve read the Twitter summary thread, and skimmed several sections of the paper (especially intro sections and Discussion), but haven't fully read the paper.

Some initial thoughts & questions I’m wondering about—

My main concerns are about the mechanisms, by which I mean how the cash-transfers impacted people’s behavior or psychology in ways that would bring about the measured results (assuming the metrics/results are valid). One of the most puzzling results is on food security.

“We also find that the transfer generated large and highly statistically significant improvements in food security in the first year. However, mirroring our results for mental health, these improvements were short-lived and, by the end of the program, participants in the treatment group reported no better ability to meet their food needs than those in the control group.” (Page 3)

If cash-transfers indeed fail to improve food security for a lot of people after the first year (yet apparently did help during the first year), why? What are the mechanisms by which it would fail?

From my armchair speculation, I can kind-of-sort-of imagine how psychological adaptation (or suchlike) may explain how cash may fail to improve mental health or stress after the first year, leading to something of a return to baseline (albeit with many reservations).

And some of the physical health results also might not be too baffling, since the relationship between income, medical care access, and health results, may well be complex and wonky. Medical access may be reduced by non-income factors, effective medical advice may not be taken up, and many medical practices may be ineffective. That said, there are still a lot of very plausible mechanisms as to how poverty would worsen health—it’s not all specious correlation (even if some is), and it’s not all the result of third-factors causing both poverty and illness (even if some is) and/or illness causing poverty. So there’s still some more explanation needed as to how a lot of these wouldn’t be impacted much, or would be impacted only temporarily, by cash transfers.

All that said, I’m still more puzzled by the food-security results. People’s food needs are a lot more consistent and predictable than their physical healthcare needs, and seem less likely to change due to any return to baseline.

Do the recipients develop a bigger appetite or altered metabolism after the first year? Do they start making worse (or at least, less food-focused) spending decisions, resulting in less money to spend on food? Or what? Was there something else they preferred to spend their money on, besides food, after the first year? Did they not have enough money to spend on food? Did rent take up so much they didn’t have money for food?

Maybe some of them spend more money on drugs or suchlike, resulting in less money for food—but the study seems to find mixed results as to whether drug use increased or not (see Page 36, and search the document for “drug” to see variations of the same claim throughout), and I assume a large chunk of the recipients didn’t spend a lot of money on drugs (even if there was also a large chunk who did). So, in any case, I don’t think very much of the food security result can be easily explained by “recipients spent the money on drugs instead of food.”

So… what gives? Why did food insecurity go down and then back up again??

I’ve skimmed the paper, and it looks like most of it consists in arguments that their statistical methods and suchlike are valid and not confounded, or suchlike. I probably don’t have the expertise to evaluate any of those arguments. But it doesn’t look like there’s much, if any, discussion on the mechanisms. Maybe it’s in there somewhere, I don’t know.

The results wouldn’t be magic. If they’re valid, they should be happening as a result of the recipients changing (or failing to change) their consumption patterns or other decisions or circumstances in various sorts of ways. So what are those? If there aren't any plausible mechanisms (which admittedly would be very hard to show), this could also be reason to question the validity of the results.

It sounds like the lead author, Sarah Miller, is in favor of cash transfers. So the negative results can’t be readily explained by a lead author’s bias against the policy.

Some of the failure may be explained by the fact that the study was only three years, and some benefits may take many years of cash transfers to achieve. However, this doesn’t address why the study did find a bunch of benefits in year 1 which then ceased in year 2. This pattern of benefits appearing and then disappearing also seems to count against the possibility that the study’s method was simply unable to detect the benefits. Apparently it did detect the benefits in year 1, which makes it puzzling why they disappeared in year 2.

A bunch of twitter commenters seem to think the study confirms UBI sucks actually, because poor people are just intrinsically shitty and make bad decisions that keep themselves poor and in bad health completely regardless of what the government does—as the critics had been saying all along.

I’m certainly open to the possibility that poor people tend to make bad decisions, and I want to guard against any politically-correct bias that wrongly rules it out. If and insofar as poor people make decisions that contribute to keeping themselves poor and in bad health (whether these decisions are bad or defensible, which is a further question), then we should want to know what those are, so we can work with them to improve their situations more effectively and ethically.

Many progressives are likely too biased toward underestimating the agency of some poor people, and may well underestimate how many poor people could somewhat improve their situation by making different decisions. I think we can concede a lot of these points without drastically undercutting the position that poverty is obviously extremely bad and unjust, that some forms of government intervention & redistribution are effective, and that the main in-principle objections to government redistribution are weak.

I’m also pretty confident that most of the critics are ideologically committed to the “poor people make bad decisions” hypothesis for biased and unempirical reasons—and also seemingly haven't put forward any detailed hypotheses for how exactly the “poor people make bad decisions” view actually explains the evidence.

Arguably, even if poor people make bad decisions, this isn't enough to explain how and why their consumption or lifestyle decisions (etc.) were impacted by cash-transfers in the right sort of ways to explain any of the main interesting data.

My ideas on the study here are all very provisional. But the study seems worthwhile for UBI proponents to get ahead of, and develop a well-thought-out empirical analysis as to what it does or doesn’t imply for UBI.

#ubi #universal basic income

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loganwritesprobably · 5 months ago

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First Meeting With.. P3 (One Piece Edition)

Part one with Ace, Law and Sanji Part two with Zoro, Robin and Luffy Part four with Benn, Shanks and Smoker

Requests are open for x reader things! I will write basically ANY kind of reader - male, female, non-binary, gender neutral, trans, disabled, black, white, latino, asian, neurodivergent, etc

Here is another three lovely characters for you to meet: Crocodile, Mihawk and Buggy! All readers are gender neutral, so everyone is welcome to enjoy. No Y/N is used!

Buggy's section is a little short, but honestly I think it's just fine as it is, it made me laugh at least

CW: In Mihawk's section, the reader experiences a massive loss, and expresses some passive desire for death, take care with that

The casino was a little overwhelming when you first walked in, between the bright and sometimes flashing lights, and the various noises coming from patrons and machines alike, but you seemed to thrive here. You'd always liked card games, so that was what you gravitated toward when you'd first arrived. This, however, was far from your first time here, and you'd found a way to play the system. You'd play a few games, and lose intentionally with small bets, then you'd slip away to play another game and lose just once with another small bet, before retreating to the bar for something to drink and maybe something to eat depending on the time of day. You'd chat with other frequent patrons, and some of the staff. Finally, to end your night, you'd pick out whichever game you were most inclined to that night and place a large bet, and win. Your secret? You could count cards.

You didn't come too often, it was a delicate balance that you were striking to not be caught in your actions, but when you did come you always won big. The house couldn't always win, after all. Your wins were spread far enough apart, with enough losses in between, that you hadn't been flagged yet. It was a win, for you at least.

Tonight, you'd already done all your losses, and you were sitting at the bar. The woman behind the bar, Alisa, was lovely and you had gotten to know her in a fairly casual way, at the sort of level that you usually knew a co-worker. You knew very little about her, but you got along enough to happily chat whenever you were both at the bar. As you were happily chatting, you watched Alisa's face change, eyes widening and smile falling. That couldn't be anything good, but you didn't look up, you didn't want them to realise you knew someone was approaching.

A very large man sat on the stool beside you, dressed in fine fabrics and more fur than anyone had any right to be wearing in the desert. He was handsome. "Sir Crocodile, what can I get for you?" Alisa asked, and that told you just who you were dealing with - the damn owner, and one of the seven warlords of the sea. You took a deep, steadying breath, and sipped your drink casually. Crocodile ordered himself a drink, and you didn't look at him. There was a long, silent minute, where even the sound of the slot machines faded into the background and there was only you and Crocodile. Alisa returned with his drink, and he took a first sip, before he turned to you. "You're good, I'll give you that." He said, and you glanced at him as if seeing him for the first time. "What can I say? I make sure I dress nice for the casino." You replied, hoping to ease some of the tension. "You know what I'm talking about, though I'll admit, you do clean up well." You'd take a compliment where you could get it. "So I'm busted?" "You had a good run, but you can either leave and never come back.. or I'm willing to offer you a deal."

You were a powerhouse pirate in your own right. Your crew wasn't quite at your level, but every day they worked harder to match you in strength and ability - and they were getting there. Hell, you were sure they'd start to surpass you soon, and then maybe you'd have to start trying. You didn't mind. It felt good to see a group of people you'd been nurturing grow into something more. Your bounty was no Straw Hat level, but it was nothing to sneeze at in your humble opinion. A couple million berri - what you wouldn't give to have that much berri at your disposal.

You'd crossed paths with Mihawk only once, very early in your career, and you'd had the sense to stay out of his damn way. It was a good thing you did, he killed a man not ten minutes later, not that you stuck around long enough to find out why. You chased your crew from bars and away from market stalls, back onto your boat, and took off sailing again. He hadn't seen you, you were sure, and that was a good thing, but you'd seen him.

Never had you anticipated getting into a situation where you were crossing paths with him again - certainly not voluntarily.

Karai Bari was a damn hot island, not quite something you were used to, and well swimming several miles didn't help with how hot and out of breath you were. A dozen men approached you with swords and guns, and you could only hold up your arms in surrender. "I'm not.. here to fight!" You panted out, desperately searching the crowd for a sympathetic face. You found the least sympathetic amongst them in Dracule Mihawk. "My ship was shot down by marines sailing away from here, my crew.. I don't know where they are or if they survived. Please, I just want to live." You asked, hands beginning to tremble as reality set in. They were good people, and now you had no idea what had become of them. You'd demanded some of the younger members take to paddle boats to get to safety, but you didn't know if they'd made it. There'd been devil fruit users amongst them, and they were certainly dead by now. The knowledge of it weighed heavy on your shoulders - you were meant to protect them. You collapsed down to your knees in tears, sobs wracking your chest. You were meant to keep them safe. "I take it back," you whispered, voice thick with tears, "I can't do it without them. Do what you want to me."

It was the last hand you'd expected that came to rest on your shoulder and gently squeeze. "Get up." Came the voice of the world's greatest swordsman. "A Captain's grief should not be witnessed here. I'll take you somewhere private, where you can grieve properly, and I'll organise a rescue mission for any survivors."

He was a little odd looking, and that was putting it nicely. He was some sort of clown, judging from his large red nose, and he was.. well, all head. He was a head, directly attached to feet, and you couldn't quite understand how his hands were also attached to him. It was unnatural, and more than a little unsettling. He was yelling at you, bouncing up and down, and all you could do is stare. "It's flashily rude to stare ya know!" The guy yelled, which finally forced you to blink yourself back into full awareness. "What the fuck?" You managed, finally crouching down to look at him properly. "I'm Buggy! Genius Jester! Star Clown!" He yelled, and you shoved a finger in your ear to rub it. "You're also fucking loud." You muttered, running a hand over your face. "Hey! I'm looking for.. well.. the rest of me." You told you, realising that maybe yelling at you wasn't the best way to get your help. "For what?" You asked dumbly, blinking at him owlishly. The rest of himself? Was he some sort of hippie, what did that even mean? "I'm a chop chop man! My body comes apart." He explained, splitting his hand from the rest of his body as your face contorted in disgust. "I'm going to be sick." "You get used to it. Now stop being useless, and help me out! My leg is around here somewhere, I can feel it."

#fanfic #one piece #writing #sir crocodile #dracule mihawk #buggy the clown #reader insert #crocodile x reader #crocodile/reader #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk/reader #mihawk/reader #buggy x reader #buggy/reader #gender neutral reader

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cheolhub · 2 years ago

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sar what are your thoughts on who in txt is more likely to be a camboy and enjoy the attention 👁️👁️

— seungschlong anon

TXT AS CAMBOYS

first, MINORS DNI 18+ second, let’s be serious.

CHOI SOOBIN

this baby loves the attention. i mean, they all do, but pretty boy soobin? he lives for it and would probably die for it too.

it’s less about the money and more about finding comfort in feeling pleasure <3

he cams about every 3 days, but sometimes he’ll get so hard while he’s out ‘n sneak away to do a live, in public cam sess and he’s all hushed asking, “d’you guys think you could make me cum really quick? ‘m so hard :(“ (yes, you can hear him pouting even though his camera is pointed at his dick)

and the sweet comments are what get him

all of them are a variation of the same thing— “you’re so beautiful 🥺” and “your cock is so big!” and, his personal favorite, “you’re doing so well, baby~”

absolutely thrives off the attention and validation and praise… it kinda turns him into a whore

and ahh, sweet baby would be like, “can i cum? will you guys let me?” he asks almost every show, resulting in hundreds of dollars in tips <3

the comments always tell him “yes” because how can they say no when he sounds so breathy ‘n sweet? :(

CHOI YEONJUN

i know i said soobin lives for it, but yeonjun? god, yeonjun loves everything about being a camboy

cams every few days, much like soobin, but his are always the same day and time unless something comes up

he does it for both the money and the fact that his ego is going to get stroked

and yes, his loyal viewers are well aware that they’re inflating his already large ego, but no one really cares

he’s so fucking slick. he’s reading the comments and he’s like, “oh? you think i’m hot? how hot, baby?” as is if he were talking to one person but he’s really talking to everyone.

and the comments always consist of quite possibly the most unhinged shit a comment section could have

and he just laughs at all of them and says some provoking shit back like, “if you want me to ruin you, why don’t you come over here ‘n try to take my cock then? bet you couldn’t even handle it~”

one of the top camboys in the group !! his tips pay for everything in his life xx

CHOI BEOMGYU

MEAN MEAN MEAN MEAN!!!!!

just so fucking mean, he doesn’t even care. he cams when he needs to blow off some steam so it’s sporadic but there’s at least one show a week (no set time or day or place)

and he literally loves the money and loves all the sluts in his comments getting all needy for him

he’ll be in his gaming chair, panting and moaning while reading all the needy comments and listening to the sound of tips being donated

everyone’s in heat and he’s just laughing at them, “you’re all so fucking pathetic? you like watching me jerk my cock? is it turning all of you on?”

and of-fucking-course it’s turning them on, he knows that, but he’s such a MEANIE that he likes reading the viewers agree to it

“aw, look at all of you in heat, that’s so fucking cute,” he’ll say in the most patronizing tone. “too bad you won’t get to watch me cum.” :(

he ends up giving the commenters an incentive, “oh you guys really wanna see me cum? wanna see me make a fucking mess? get me up to x dollars ‘n i’ll think about it.” sometimes he’ll cut the live as he’s cumming and sometimes he’ll let everyone watch all of it unfold— YOU NEVER KNOW AND THIS IS HOW HE’S RICH!!!!

KANG TAEHYUN

one of those sweet, soft doms. his words would make you melt every single time without fail

he loves giving!! cams for free because he knows there isn’t much content that guides people to their orgasms (but he still gets a shit load of tips that it makes up for it) and the attention makes him feel good! he’s doing god’s work tbh

like beomgyu, it’s weekly, but there’s always a time and place. thursdays at 10:45 p.m.

he loves talking to the chat before getting started. he’ll offer small talk with a soft, pretty voice. “while we wait for more people to join, everyone tell me how their weeks been.”

and then when he gets started, he’s being all sweet and praising the fuck out of his watchers. everyone’s crying in the chat about how they’re “gonna cum” even though he’s only been at it for 10 minutes

“you wanna cum for me? you know you don’t have to ask for my permission, but go ahead and let go yeah? imagine it’s me making you feel good and just let go for me.”

ah! and he moans so prettily when he cums unexpectedly after 20 minutes of talking up the watchers and languidly stroking his cock >////< always ends the live with a wink and cheeky comment like, “be good for me till next week, hm?”

HUENING KAI

WORLDS BEST CAM BOY- I DON’T MAKE THE RULES. he’s literally everything you could ever want!

does it for the endless love and attention, and he’s smitten as fuck with his viewers.

this baby cams every other night if he can because his stamina is ungodly… i’m telling you it’s literally insane

he’s a switch too and i can imagine him being kind of kinky? fleshlight, vibrator, strap, stuffed teddy etc. but sometimes he just uses his hand and that’s just as good. but, like, you never actually know what you’re going to be watching till the live starts— which he thinks is pretty fucking fun

when he’s domming, it’s really just him being a bratty top replying to comments and saying things like, “you want me to play with my nipples, too? you’re so needy. why don’t you play with your nipples, baby? bet, you’d look so cute all f’me.”

and when he’s being a sub, it’s so so cute. he’s in tears and he’s begging so bad, “please, please, please lemme cum! i’ll be a good boy, i swear!” and, of course, his watchers hold grudges so they have him edge himself.

he’s cute and hot and undoubtedly the highest ranking camboy online so we all know his tips are insane because how couldn’t they be?

always closes out with asking everyone how good they felt and smiles reading the endless comments about how he’s THE camboy

#[💌: seungschlong]#SEUNGSCHLONG STRIKES AGAIN!!!!#THAT WAS SO FUN TO WRITE OSBSHDB #not proofread #kinda crack?#but like also real #txt smut #soobin smut #yeonjun smut #beomgyu smut #taehyun smut #hueningkai smut

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sserajeans · 1 year ago

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you are in love | 52. the christmas fair pt. 2 (written)

it took the group of 12 about an hour to finish all the food they bought, trying a dish from almost every stall in the fair. from boxes of chicken and pizza to plates of corndogs and cups of drinks, the table was a mess once they were done.

deciding to play a lengthy game of rock, paper, scissors to determine the unlucky one responsible for cleaning up, leehan ended up victim after wonyoung gaslit him into thinking she did rock when he did scissors (she initially formed paper).

"can we at least watch the fireworks through the ferris wheel?" leehan sighed and started with his own trash, stuffing everything in a plastic bag.

"wouldn't it be cute to watch it together though?" jiwoo suggested as she scrolled through her pinterest feed and found cute couple pictures to recreate when the fireworks show would start.

"we can watch the first round together by the fences, then those who wants to catch it on the wheel can go?" yunjin suggested after pondering for a minute, handing leehan both her and kazuha's garbage.

"sounds cool!" y/n exclaimed as she helped danielle with an unusually large pile of garbage that the two gathered while waiting for leehan to reach their side.

"thanks guys..." leehan muttered and huffed before dumping the now overflowing trash bag into the nearest garbage can.

everyone around the table laughed at leehan's continued bitterness of having to be in charge of the garbage, despite being finished with the task. wonyoung handed him a wet wipe as minji took a candid photo and drew a garbage bag with flies around the boy. that was going to be one hell of a birthday post.

"we still got about 45 minutes before the show starts... so... games section?" kazuha asked with a knowing tone that came with a pinch of excitement.

the rest of the table cheered and nodded long as they pulled out maps of the fairgrounds, huddling up together to figure out an efficient route that would allow them to spend time together while hitting all the activity stalls they each wanted to do. (minji’s idea, and she was quite frankly, very good at it.)

to put their 45 minute activity extravaganza in summary, hanni is a good shot with a pellet gun which scared the shit out of minji, y/n could be a fisherman as an alternative career choice (while leehan cried beside her to have mercy on the fish), wonyoung can throw darts like a mad woman, and kazuha’s eyes are extremely sharp chasing around ping pong balls under cups.

“fireworks show in a minute!” yunjin announced, leading the rest of the group by the edge of the fairgrounds bounded by metal fencing to overlook the rest of the town.

“wait i’ll catch up in a bit!” y/n yelled back, doing her best to aim 5 individual sandbags into the holes in a tilted wooden board. she was oddly determined to win the stall’s grand prize, a bunny plushie that she told danielle looked “extra adorable” and that she “must win it no matter what.”

“y/n, you can win it later! come on it just struck 9:00!” danielle nagged the lee, who almost ignored her in suit of determination if it weren’t for the brief “just one more!” y/n muttered before landing the winning throw right after.

the stall’s employee handed y/n the bunny plushie, her eyes tired after entertaining the hundredth customer. the two girls raced for the metal fences where everyone else was waiting with their eyes fixed on the sky, expecting the fireworks any minute.

and just as lee y/n stumbled in front of the metal fences, the first firework shot to the sky, bursting in colors of red, orange, and yellow.

her face froze in awe at the marveling shades of colors painting the night sky, their chosen viewpoint provided near zero obstructions to block the view, so the city lights combined with the fireworks was one of the most truly beautiful sights to remember. they’d capture it in camera if any device did it justice.

this view, accompanied by her heart racing as she tried to catch her breath, created a surreal experience for y/n.

the show was scheduled to go on for another 10 minutes, so once the initial shock settled in, y/n came to the rest of her senses, and felt something warm. a soft and warm something that grazed her right hand.

if it were up to her physical instinct, she would’ve grabbed it in desperation, given the 1 degree weather they were in that caused her hands to go ice cold. but it’d be awkward, obviously, because she knew danielle was on her left since they ran there together, and she was in too much of a rush to notice who was on her right.

allowing curiosity to get to the best of her, she turned to her right, eyes locking with the damned ones she was avoiding the whole night.

of course, it was hanni, who already was looking at her before she took a glance. for almost half a minute they stared and stared, eyes never leaving the other’s.

you know what people say? how eyes are windows to the soul?

hanni’s windows were glossy, an almost clear reflection of the red heart-shaped firework shone on her brown orbs. her eyes were windows to a soul bearing what felt like the weight of losing the world. vulnerability. a look of longing.

y/n’s windows were foggy, like a translucent glass pane filled from the condensation brought by the contrast of cold and warm weather. like the emotions she's felt the past few weeks. cold, a freezing cold, but also a warmth, a comforting warmth.

to hanni pham, she was beginning to realize in that moment that lee y/n was the world. the world she felt the weight of losing. but, to hanni pham, lee y/n was also the sun. the sun in which she revolves around.

it was the perfect description. y/n, her sun.

how could she live without her sun?

the earth without the sun would lose direction, light, and warmth.

the earth needs the sun, the way hanni pham needs lee y/n. and she’d never forgive herself for how stupid and selfish she had to be, and for how far things had to come, just for her to realize that.

to realize that she may love her best friends like family, but there would always be something more for lee y/n.

did she really, finally say that in her head?

that she loves lee y/n. and that she always has. finally putting a name to the unfamiliar and bewitching pull her childhood best friend had on her.

the intimate moment felt like hours for the two, stuck in their own world, their own universe with a completely different construct of time from reality.

but remember how the eyes were windows to the soul? windows that carry all emotion and thought?

it was very clear. one could look into them and see what was going on. any outsider could.

outsiders including their friends around them.

y/n felt a tug on her shoulder.

"y/n! gyuvin and leehan are gonna ditch us for the wheel!" wonyoung exclaimed, pointing at the two boys racing to take advantage of the almost non-existent queue.

"wait wha- okay but what about dan-"

"hey you're not the only one who's friends with her, you know!" jiwoo, who had overheard y/n's hesitance to leave danielle and struggle to reply, gave y/n a side eye as danielle let out a soft laugh, her eyes forming crescents with the warmest smile known to mankind.

"it's fine, y/n." she said, giving her date, a slight push towards wonyoung's direction. "i'll be fine."

"OKAY! you got the green light! now y/n use your swimmer legs and RUN! are you actually gonna let the boys win??"

masterlist. next.

taglist: @yyeonmis @lostamoeba @jisooftme @yoontoonwhs @awkwardtoafault @lcv3lies @limbforalimb @kaypanaq @manooffline @kimsgayness @justme-idle @mightymyo @sewiouslyz @txtbrainrot @li0ilthecxnt @captivq @paranoxic @sofakingwoso @pandafuriosa60 @haerinkisser @lesleepyyy @haechansbbg @rosiehrs @jiwoneiric @blue4hour @bzeus28 @keiji-jin

#newjeans fanfic #newjeans x reader #newjeans imagines #newjeans smau #hanni x reader #hanni pham x reader #hanni smau #hanni imagines #kim minji #mo jihye #danielle marsh #kang haerin #lee hyein

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misspelledwordswizard · 24 days ago

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Chapter 17 - We got a little too excited about the change of environment.

Previous chapter / Next Chapter

We all looked around in an attempt to recognize the place we were sent to, there was also no sign of the Postman who supposedly passed through the portal shortly before us. Of course, me and especially Sky recognized the place quickly, the others may have taken a while, but the fact that we were on na island in the sky would drop at some point, and they would end up associating it with the first hero.

— We’re in my Hyrule! Well, not exactly Hyrule, but it’s my time. – Sky commented excitedly, heading towards the large pumpkin in front of us. – Come on, this is the perfect time for pumpkin soup!

Still a little lost and confused, we just followed the blond into the place. I must admit that I’ve always wanted to try this famous soup from the game, but I still haven’t been able to process all the information about the sudden change in environment. At least, in Wild’s time and mine, I had many years to adapt to the idea, so the weight of time travel and that kind of thing hadn’t hit me yet.

Entering the establishment, it was exactly like in the game, the atmosphere was comforting, it would easily be a place I would come to on a rainy day to eat and read a book. The chandelier that was most likely broken by Sky, at least all players break it, is in its rightful place, not seeming to have any damage. The whole pumpkin theme was actually very pretty, I felt like I was in a themed café that is popular on the Internet because people like to take pictures.

Our large group sat at the large round table – which had to be supplemented with a few benches – while Sky went to talk to the owner and cook, Pumm. Everyone there seemed happy to see the hero again, and confused by the group that accompanied him. I imagine that the great hero of his people disappearing out of nowhere is something to be commented on and caused great concern.

While we waited for the sleeping hero to return, everyone looked at each other a little lost. Of course we knew that this was Sky’s time, but he was acting so casually about it, and didn’t even listen to any prior conversation, just dragged us along as if it were a regular visit. But in the end, it was good to see him so calm and happy, he was at home and that was evident by the way he acted.

It was when the aforementioned guy approached the table carrying a tray with five bowls that I started to pay attention, soon understanding what he was doing. I instinctively got up and went to the counter to get the second tray with the rest, so he wouldn’t have to make another trip. We both passed a bowl to each other, until only our own were left. The smell of the pumpkin soup was definitely divine, and it made my mouth water. Since we hadn’t skipped lunch, everyone was hungry, so there was no hesitation in devouring the food, which was greeted with sounds indicating how good it was all around the table.

As I put the spoon in my mouth, I could feel the sweet taste of the pumpkin in perfect harmony with the spices and creaminess. God, this is divine. Nintendo should open a Zelda-themed restaurant and sell the most famous recipes, it would make a lot of money! Maybe it was because I’ve always wanted to try these foods, or because I grew up romanticizing them, but it brought me great comfort. I’d never been to that place before, not in person, and yet drinking this warm and refreshing soup brought me a section of peace, as if I were at home.— That’s good, I want more! – Wind said with his mouth still full, his bowl was still half empty, I scolded him with a slight tap on the back of his neck.— Finish eating first before asking for more, and don’t talk with your mouth full!— Okay, sorry. – He said after swallowing the soup while massaging the affected area.

The others’ giggles were heard and silenced by a look from me and the Sailor. We all finished eating in a comfortable silence, not that it lasted long, since hunger made everyone eat quickly. After promising to come back here later for Wind, we were finally ready to leave. It must have been mid-afternoon, and our concerns turned to how we would get everyone to Skyloft.

Sky could very well go with his Loftwing there, and even take one of us with him, but it would be unfeasible for him to make nine trips to drop us off one by one while he picked up the others. There was also no one around to hitchhike, if that was a thing here – I mean, would they let strangers ride in their loftwings? – so now we were working together to come up with a plausible solution. Or rather, Sky was coming up with a solution, since we didn’t know what possibilities were viable around here.

— I can go and look for help, I’ll find people who are available. It might still take a while, everyone is busy with the transition to the surface. – Sky commented thoughtfully.

— That seems to be the most viable option, if it doesn’t disturb them, it would be good to do it. – Time considered the idea. Really, even if it took a while to find people, it would be faster than Sky making nine trips.

— Okay, one of you can go with me now to stay there and speed things up. – The hero of the skies looked between us, as if choosing the best person to leave momentarily alone in Skyloft. – Maybe you’re the best option to come with me. – He finished speaking directly to me, with a gentle and shy smile on his lips while I looked at him confused and surprised.

— No way! – Before I could say anything, the Veteran intervened, with na irritated tone that left everyone confused. – Are you stupid? If she goes, she’ll be alone, even if for a short time, it’s dangerous for her to be away from all of us!

Everyone acknowledged Vet’s point, which was quite logical. It also made him an unviable option, since he’s also under some “protection” after what happened, but I think it’s best not to mention that so as not to irritate him further. Sky seemed embarrassed by his suggestion, apologizing softly and looking away with a puppy dog face. Bad Legend.

— Well, then I’ll go!

— No way! – I cut Wind off, who frowned in the same second. – If it’s not safe for me to be there alone, it’s not safe for whoever’s there for you to be left unsupervised. – Maybe I was being strict, but I couldn’t help but worry. About Wind, of course, not just the residents of Skyloft.

— She’s right. I’ll go, it would also be good if the Old Man were the last one, so there would be someone to take care of things there and here. – Twilight concluded, and finally we all agreed, ending the discussion.

With that settled, Sky headed towards the... flying thing? I don’t remember what it’s called. He jumped off the edge, making everyone let out a gasp of surprise – except me, who was already expecting it, so I had to fake one when I realized it. A whistle was heard and a large red bird was seen diving towards the falling hero. We had a few seconds of tension, some processed what had happened, others were too surprised and apprehensive to react, and then the bird resurfaced with Sky on its back.

— So cool! – Wild exclaimed and approached the edge of the island to take a closer look.

— Ah, now I want to be the first even more! – Wind completed, joining the Champion.

— Come on, Rancher. This is as close as I can get, you’ll have to jump up here.

Twilight agreed without worries, approaching the edge and with a push mounting the bird, still a little apprehensive. He makes it look easy.

— You can wait inside the restaurant if you want, this might take a while.

◇

It was almost half na hour before we had any sign of the hero of the skies. Sky returned to Pumpkin Landing with Pipit, he might not be much help, but he would still speed things up a lot. Unable to control the youngest of the group for long, we allowed Wind to be the next to go, along with Warriors who promised to control him.

The rest of us waited outside the Lumpy Pumpkin, I sat on the edge of the island, swinging my legs as if I were on the edge of a river. The breeze here was much softer than I imagined it would be, I could feel the wind, but it didn’t bother me. Wild sat next to me, with a smile, so we sat side by side, just watching the horizon. It was late afternoon, the sun would set in about na hour, so the sky was very beautiful, without many clouds, only the islands and birds could be seen in the distance.

— What other types of islands do you think there are around here? – The Cook asked next to me, curious. – I mean, if there’s a pumpkin island, what else could there be? – He added, making me laugh.

— Hm, maybe there’s an bug island? – I said, pretending to think of the most absurd thing possible.

— What? I don’t think we’ve reached that level! I think a heart-shaped island, if there’s a lake like that, why not an island?

— Oh, do you want a bet?

— You don’t have money to bet.

— Oh, right. – I said frustrated, thinking of a solution. I really want to bet something, because I know I’m right. – What if we make a slap bet? – I said, remembering one of my favorite sitcoms.

— A what bet?

— Slap bet! We bet, if I’m right, I can slap you, and vice versa. – Even knowing how stupid this idea would be, I always wanted to do this.

— I wouldn’t hit you, not even as a joke! – The killjoy said, frustrating my stupid childhood dreams.

— What if I find a representative? – He looked at me confused, so I tried to explain myself. – I’m going to sell my idea to one of the boys, if they buy it then the bet goes between the two of you, and I’ll just be the judge.

— You’re really determined, aren’t you? I’ll be in if you can convince someone. – The Champion gave a mischievous smile, liking the new idea. Oh, come to think of it, I’m practically sacrificing him, since I know I’m right, but this is a too good joke to waste.

I got up and went towards the boys who were left on the island, I have four great options, even though at first I thought Wars would be the best option – at least he would agree with my stupid idea. Of those left, Four wouldn’t get involved in this, Hyrule wouldn’t hit one of his brothers, Time will reprimand my offensive joke, and Legend will call me an idiot, but I still want to try.

— Who here wants to give Wild a fair and pre-agreed slap?! – I asked them with some undue excitement at the moment, receiving confused looks and judging my soul. – I mean, we want to make a bet, but instead of money we’re going to bet slaps. But I need a representative since he wouldn’t hit me, who here wants to buy my idea?

Time sighed in frustration and walked away, Hyrule seemed even more incredulous and Four looked at me as if I were na idiot. Which I am. It was the Veteran who first showed interest, curious about all this.

— And what kind of bet is this?

— Oh, we’re betting that there might be another island around here. I kicked na island of bugs, Wild kicked na island shaped like a heart!

— And if they’re both wrong? – Four questioned.

— Nothing happens. If either of you accept, I’ll have to stay away from the bet and be the judge of the slap bet.

— And how sure are you about that? – Rulie was the next to ask, not seeming very sure about all this.— I’m absolutely sure I’m right!

— Then I’m in, I don’t mind slapping the Champion, and if they’re both wrong, which is likely, I won’t get in trouble either. – Legend said, with a confident smile on his lips, and I was excited to have a volunteer.

— But what if he’s right? – Four countered, bringing up other logical points.

— Oh, a heart island in the sky? Don’t you think that if that existed Sky wouldn’t be talking about it all the time? He’s a “hopeless romantic.” If that existed, there would probably be some silly legend about soulmates related to this island and he would be talking about how he would like to go there with his love one day. – The Veteran retorted, rolling his eyes in disgust at the Hero’s whole melodrama.

Tired of arguing, Four just let it go, as did the Traveler, who, even though he didn’t like the idea of his brothers fighting, decided not to get involved. Finally, I went back with Leg to where Wild was, and made them both sign the bet, along with na oath, demanded by the Cook, that from now on I would be completely biased about this bet until it was finalized, and that as a judge I should not get involved or favor anyone.

Poor Wild, I hope Legend goes easy on the slap.

◇

Finally, Sky returned with Pipit to look for another partner. I would be one of those who would go, by Time’s decision, and he also demanded that it be with Sky himself – I think he doesn’t trust me much in leaving me away from a Link.

Getting on a Loftwing is something to be talked about, to say the least. I was a little scared at first, you never know, what if I end up annoying him and he throws me into the air. No, I know that Sky’s Loftwing wouldn’t do that, he’s really like his partner, the two share that detail. The hero himself helped me up, after all I’m not as physically skilled as the others, and soon we were flying through the skies towards Skyloft.

When I felt the big bird move, I instinctively clung to Sky, as if my life depended on it – and it did – and he laughed at me. How ugly, laughing at my misfortune, I thought he was different from his brothers. But soon after, he comforted me by caressing one of my hands that tightly gripped his waist, comforting me. I relaxed a little, but still stood firm, my body glued to his back, my face resting on his shoulder, his good smell flooding my senses. What a good smelling boy.

I could vaguely see what was in front of us, when I realized, we were heading towards a floating rock with a hole in the center. If I remember correctly, if we pass through the middle it will propel us forward at high speed. I was scared shitless, but I trust Link, I know nothing will happen to us. What didn’t stop me from hugging him even tighter and hiding my face in his tunic until we passed.

I felt a strange sensation, and soon our speed increased drastically, my heart raced with pure adrenaline, I felt dizzy, I think I fainted for a second. But then, we stopped. I gathered the courage to look around, still holding on to my poor friend, who didn’t even seem bothered. We were above Skyloft, close to the ground, as close as possible. I could see the others waiting down below. It was a beautiful sight. The landscape was lit by the sunset, which fell divinely on the trees and waters there, it was possible to see Loftwings flying around – I think I saw Groose’s in the middle – and the clouds helped to make it all even more beautiful. When I looked at Sky, he was already looking at me, his beautiful blue eyes full of charm and happiness for showing his home to his dear friends, I smiled thinking how happy he must be.

— Hold on to me. – He said as he adjusted himself on the Loftwing, putting both legs in the same direction and pulling me closer. – Put your legs around my waist, it will be safer that way.

— What? Why? – I asked, even though deep down I already knew the answer I didn’t want to hear.

— Let’s jump, don’t worry, my cape will serve as a parachute, just hold on tight to me.

— No way! I’m not crazy enough to do this! – He put my own arms around his neck and helped me put my legs around his waist. The proximity between us distracted me from what I was trying to avoid, and knowing this, the bastard just held me tight by the waist and jumped. – SKYYYY!!!!!

I screamed as I grabbed him with all my strength, closing my eyes. If before I was crushing him, now I must have broken one of his ribs with my thighs. My despair only increased when I felt his hand let go of my waist, now my life depended on me not letting go of him, and man, there was no chance of that happening. It was only when I felt our falling speed decrease drastically that I opened my eyes again. Thanks to his cape, we arrived safely on dry land.

— It’s okay, you can let go now.

He tried to calm me down, but all I could do was shake and hold myself steady, my body not obeying my will to let go of this suicidal maniac. I’ll never trust him again. It was only when Twilight approached and grabbed me by the waist that I managed to free myself. Or rather, Sky freed himself. I was placed on the ground, but at the same time my legs went wobbly and I almost hit the ground, but the two men next to me grabbed me, one in each arm, and pulled me to my feet.

— I think it’s better if we help you walk for now. – Sky commented, holding back a laugh.

— You’ll pay me, birdman!

— If you want, I can carry you like last time. – the Rancher teased, laughing at my irritation.

— Don’t you dare!

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #legend of zelda #tloz #lu x reader #x reader #linked universe fanfic #linked universe

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mugentakeda · 9 months ago

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okay more runaway fire fam hcs

-zuko gets gift giving as a love language from ursa. ursa loves to go to the market after work and parooze. she loves finding shit that she thinks the kids would enjoy. knick knacks and shit. she has a fondness for earth kingdom jadeite.

-ursa gives zuko and azula little potted plants from the florist and tasks them with the assignment of taking care of them as long as they can. competition comes second nature to them, and its gonna be hard for her and lu ten to shake that off, but for now, maybe ursa can make a compromise by having them compete in nurturing. hopefully, what they learn from that will stick.

-when azula and zuko arent nosing around the town, theyre messing around in the surrounding forest. one day zuko wants to see if he can cross the water and explore air temples, but for now hes gonna scout the area. the amount of trees are good for practicing stealth, even if he doesnt have his dao.

-zuko finds a baby sparrowhawk-lynx with azula. they agree to take him home and work together to convince mother and cousin lu ten to let them keep him.

-ursa is dismayed at the idea of having any kind of furry animal around the house and getting fur on their clothes and rugs. she also swears that feline type animals all smell strange. lu ten is dismayed at the idea of having a lynx around the house because they get fucking huge. (he never makes the point that its a wild animal, and not a toy- because zuko and azula do have the discipline to care for an animal. and lu ten can trust azula to be able to defend herself and zuko if something goes wrong when he isnt around)

-they keep the sparrowhawk-lynx.

-they couldnt agree on a name for him so until they could they started calling him "Beast" in the meantime. unfortunately this ends up sticking so neither of them end up getting to pick a name.

-ursa takes all but two days to warm up to him because hes a cute little baby that likes to rub his head on her skirts. ursa is a weak woman to cute animals. she starts cradling him like a newborn and baby talking him. azula will not stand for both her AND zuko babying Beast. she keeps trying to train him to attack things or wrestle with her but he just crawls on her and licks her face.

-lu ten warms up to Beast as well but also treats him and talks to him like a human child. this is a problem because Beast is a sparrowhalk-lynx that can only understand basic words and not full sentences. so whenever lu ten tries to scold him for using their shoes as chew toys he just stares at lu ten blankly. pet idiot baby :(

-hot garlic chili oil and kimchi is something that has to be made in very large batches. theyve gotten used to the mild and savory flavors of earth kingdom style food but they also cant live without at least SOME spice. ursa is working on a whole section of her back garden that will be dedicated to just hot peppers so they dont have to keep buying it from the market

-nobody has a specific role or chore assignment in the house. they just do it as it comes. it doesnt matter who all does it, or how its done. azula likes washing dishes more than folding laundry, so zuko does the laundry with lu ten. but azula doesnt like doing dishes alone after curry dinners with their thick sauces that stick on the plates, so on those days, she splits it with ursa.

-lu ten has found the perfect spot in solitude to keep up azula and zukos training- up a tall rocky trail, near a cliff that faces where the sun rises.

-lu ten keeps azula and zukos lessons conjoined rather than doing it by skill level, because the ones lu ten took were different bending courses from the ones ozai had azula and zuko take, so its new material for them both. on top of that, lu ten has to also take the time to do life lessons with them too. instead of proverbs, lu ten prefers the approach of the way he best learns- making each lesson a group discussion. lu ten thrived in the court, and loved nothing more than waiting and listening, in order to dissect the natures of the councilmens hearts. open discussion is blunt and confrontational. lu ten likes proverbs, but doesnt see them as very effective when it came to foundational lessons. their vagueness leaves too much room for misinterpretation, and azula and zuko were never allowed to leave their parroting phase by ozai, so lu ten has to be very careful about what he says, lest he starts planting even more stupid shit in his cousins' brains without thinking.

#runaway fire fam au

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aclowntiny · 1 year ago

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Foolproof- Seungkwan x Female!Best Friend!Reader

Shoutout to my irl first love for inspiring this…except for any getting together parts 🥲

Word Count: 3738 | Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, some Angst | Warnings: some language, my painfully obvious love for Boo Seungkwan I mean look at him he’s so cute PLEEEAAAASSSSSEEEE

It had been four years. Some would assume there was an anniversary of sorts, but if you were being honest, you didn’t even know what day it was. It didn’t really matter, just that it was early in the year four years ago that you officially met Boo Seungkwan.

You two had become fast friends, the young man introducing himself with great ease and charm, inspiring you to follow suit, and from there it took off- finding common ground was easy for you both. Seungkwan was impossible to dislike, a great singer with lots of music recommendations, the kpop ones being your favorites. He got you into more girl groups than you could count, but you started trying to infect him with your music taste, too.

There was a small student party, just an opening of a new building on campus, and you both went. That night ended up creating one of your favorite memories, the one where Seungkwan taught you how to correctly do the macarena, which you always messed up on, and it looked so funny you couldn’t help laughing as you joined him.

You started to find yourself actually feeling excited to go to class just at the mere prospect of him being there. In that section alone you would always have someone to talk to and share exasperated looks about the professor with. In a rare move, you initiated a study get-together just to get closer to him, and somehow it actually worked. The two of you were the longest ones to stay, and you ended up talking about books and movies and majors and slipping on banana peels far longer than you pored over your drafts.

You went to his performance in the music building, clapping and congratulating how amazing he did. He wasn’t expecting you to bring him a small bundle of flowers, but the way he lit up when you gave it to him was worth it.

Getting him hooked on your favorite game store was his roommates' bane, but your joy, the two of you picking out cute card games and ridiculous board games alike. It sold collectibles from your favorite franchise, which Seungkwan always threw into every birthday and Christmas gift...except for the one that referenced a comedy song you'd shown him, which you two now collectively referred to as your theme song.

Every trip you planned, despite going on very few, included each other. You guys were going to go to an amusement park, to Japan, to the beach, New York, his hometown on a Jeju trip, you name it. You and Seungkwan hadn’t gone on a one-on-one trip yet in four years, which might have been good for your heart in some ways, honestly.

Since Seungkwan lived on campus, you brought your laptop to the dorms and sat together in one of the common rooms so you could show him one of your favorite movies. You met his roommate, Jeonghan, and plenty of others. The three of you recruited Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Hansol, some classmates of theirs, for a dorm game night that became a weekly meeting. On the biggest nights there were fourteen of you there in that room, some fellow dorm-dwellers just wandering into the group, but Seungkwan stuck by you every time until the nerves of bring surrounded by strangers and established friends faded, your chest loosening up again along with your behavior. Soon, you had a large, eclectic, tight-knit group ranging from a handful of music and dance majors that already had at least perfunctory knowledge of each other to Seungkwan's advertising major roommate, a guy studying journalism, a quiet game design major, a fine arts student, and two business majors. One guy would be finishing up a painting for midterms while another had to calculate his fictional project’s cost risks, but you were all the same when Jeonghan cheated, one voice amidst a chorus of mirthful protests.

You got close to the other guys, but not like you were to Seungkwan. Both of you knew each other’s deepest secrets, all your struggles, and you even admitted you thought one of the guys in your group was cute before you realized your personalities didn’t match up like that.

Heck, Seungkwan had seen you literally at your worst, laying eyes on you in your crustiest state when he brought you ice cream after your wisdom teeth extraction. Tired, on meds, no nice clothes or makeup, probably still swollen, but for once you didn’t care. You were confident he’d see you the same no matter what. He was one of your best friends, after all. You didn't have to be fake. You felt the most yourself with him.

Not a phrase you'd have ever expected to use, but Seungkwan became your tangerine dealer. Every two weeks he'd pay a visit to home and come back with a huge box of them just for you. It got to the point where you paid him to bring some back for your family, too, your parents practically begging you to make sure you secured the citrus.

So many days that you strolled down campus lanes you longed to just reach over and take his hand in yours, having some movie moment beneath blowing autumn leaves where it just magically came together and boom, instant mutual love. But you knew firsthand life wasn’t like the movies. Heck, knowing how affectionate Seungkwan could be, he’d probably think you were just doing goofy buddy-buddy hand holding, not hey, you’re the cutest and funniest and most trustworthy person I know, please date me hand holding.

You’d gotten too many mixed signs to ensure a move like that would be foolproof.

Seungkwan asked you to dance at every event you went to that offered it. He also talked about asking a girl again that had requested him, leaving you shaken for the entire remainder of the 'college prom' despite the fact that she left before he could. You faked a smile when Seokmin invited you to dance, but it never came back the same until you and Seungkwan were in his car driving to the convenience store and chatting about your latest projects, no mention of the girl in the envy green dress.

You told him you'd never worn a suit jacket like his one night and he immediately stripped it off, handing it off to you to try.

He described his type once, saying this or that look on a girl was totally his style, and let's just say it was quite far from yours. It was almost laughable if it hadn't made you want to cry. That conversation was part of why you went through such a giving-up phase, trying to get the attention of one of the twelve other guys you hung out with to, somewhat depressingly, no avail.

But then another time he mentioned an old crush from high school, a girl you happened to have class with, and she basically had your style dialed up a notch.

You did try dating once, determined to get over Seungkwan once and for all, but when you showed up to a formal event maximally gussied and Seungkwan was the one who told you you looked nice, not your boyfriend who barely said hi to you, something in your chest just snapped. The other guy wasn't a great fit, either, and you ended up breaking it off when he picked one too many fights over your damn personality of all things. He told you to get serious once and that was the last straw because he'd had months to see your humor.

The next time your ex passed you by, shooting you two a glance across the crowded resident dining hall, Seungkwan pulled the same gag he'd hated just to show him.

One of the guys, Seungcheol, once asked about the two of you and you freaked out, denying anything and saying you guys were super duper close Just Best Friends. Later, you wondered if Seungcheol reported that to Seungkwan. But if he did, then why? How would that come up?

Why did Seungkwan seek you out for trips and hangouts and calls like that? Why were you so much less on edge with each other than you were in the one relationship each you guys tried? Why did he never do a single thing to pursue more in four freaking years? Then again, you did tell him you thought Chan was cute before you realized you couldn't keep up with his lifestyle. Too 'work hard, play hard'. You were used to someone who just wanted attention, something you were happy to give when they were as dynamic, hilarious, and deep down so caring as Seungkwan. But that was beside the point.

God, you wish you hadn't hammered in the point of your friendship so hard with Seungcheol. Had that been the moment that ruined everything? Had not confessing on that one phone call where Seungkwan went off track talking about his upcoming Lotte World trip before you could get around to it been the moment that ruined everything? Had feeling so comfortable, showing even the very inner, more damaged layers of your shell been what ruined it all? Or had there simply been nothing to ruin?

Every time you thought you were done, whether you thought you could be happy with someone or he could and that meant case closed or even that you could put everything you felt in a box and take his smile just as a testament to your friendship, something would happen to make you question what was really going on inside his head or make your heart beat a mile a minute. Even something as simple as going on a thirty-minute drive, eyes scanning Seungkwan's side profile as he talked, feeling a great urge to just kiss him right then and there.

Moving on would get harder, you assumed, when others started to learn. It hadn't exactly been intentional, at least not on your part, but one day you had met Minghao, the arts major from your chaotic game group, for lunch and he'd brought up Seungkwan, one of the biggest connections you two had. Ok, that was fine, just a normal conversation, until that is he dropped a bomb in the form of a very choice phrase.

"If you did that, he would be so happy he'd kiss you," Minghao had joked, eyes rolling a bit as his naturally infectious smile widened.

Your very natural, instinctual, practically biological at this point, reaction to any jokes about you and Seungkwan that anyone made was a deeply transparent glare your eyes melted into before your brain even computed it. Indeed, you felt it before you considered it, but by the time you willed your face to return to normal Minghao was staring at you with raised eyebrows.

"Oh."

"What?"

"You, uh, have feelings for him, don't you?"

"Maybe I was grossed out by your joke," you feigned, pointing accusingly at Minghao with your chopsticks.

Those darn eyes of him were like swords stabbing straight into your soul. "Were you?"

"No," you broke down, melting into a stream of sweet, sad, funny, and everything in between words of your messy failed love and how bad you wanted closure, but not if it came at the cost of losing or disconcerting one of the closest people in your life.

Soon you were sobbing, Minghao sliding out of his bench seat and into a spot at your side, where he pulled you close. You felt tears soak into the chilled fabric of his scarf, but he didn't seem to mind, silently rubbing circles into your back for a few moments before he gently spoke.

"Seungkwan talks about you all the time, you know. I think even if he couldn't return those feelings, it would take a lot worse for him to stop being your friend. He doesn't cut people off easily, you know that."

"I do," you agreed, "he hates it when people do that."

"Then why do you think he'd do it to you, the person he so clearly wants at everything you can be?"

"I-" You inhaled shakily. "I don't know. I've been rejected a lot. I even asked one of the guys out and he turned it into a group hangout."

"Is that why we went bowling instead of-"

"Yes," you muttered into his scarf.

"I really think you need to talk to Seungkwan."

"About everything?" Peeling your face back out of the scarf, you felt a chill breeze lap at the tears drying on your cheeks. "Why?"

"If nothing else because he's standing like twenty feet away giving me a really weird look I've only seen him give Chan, and that has only been since Bowling Night."

"Oh, God, does he think-"

"I don't know, but here," Minghao replied, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. Leave it to him to have a beautifully embroidered ruby handkerchief in his pocket instead of a pack of Kleenex crushed beneath everything else in his backpack like every other college student.

"Thanks. Wish me luck."

"I don't believe in luck."

"Gee," you drew another shaky breath, rising unsteadily to your feet, "thanks."

"I believe in fate," Minghao smiled.

Art majors. You felt your eyes squinting in a half-glare before willing your defensive brain to be kind. Dabbing at your eyes, you attempted a wobbly smile, nodding and giving him one last thanks before wandering miserably over to Seungkwan. You couldn't help but crack a smile and chuckle at the way he cocked his head on you, the sound of mirth cracking into a sob because you hadn't fully exited cry-mode.

"Whoa, what's wrong? Or was that good crying? Did Minghao just confess? I gotta say, you and Minghao. Quite the surprise, I kind of would have seen you going for Seokmin or Soonyoung since they're funny and go better with-"

At all that, the floodgates opened again and you just strode off, sobbing. He was practically throwing you at all the other guys. You got it. Maybe that was the closure you needed, though if it was, why did it have to sting like ice piercing your lungs?

You always knew it would, though, if it came to it.

"(y/n), wait! Whoa!" Jogging to catch up with you, Seungkwan physically stopped you from walking, grabbing you by the shoulders and making you face him before he pulled you into a hug. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. What did Minghao say to you?"

"Nothing."

Seungkwan's face hardened in a way you'd never seen before, not even when the guys teased him in the ways he hated the most. "Did he hurt you? I love Minghao, but I swear if he said anything that ruined your day I'll punch his lights out."

"No," you shook your head, "no, please. We were just talking about something he thought I should do is all."

"Ok, so he didn't reject you and you're not dating? Good. Great first step."

Shoving the arts student in question's handkerchief back in your pocket, you raised an eyebrow. "Good?"

"Well, er, I mean, that is... you... you can date Minghao. Like, if you want to. I was surprised, but it's not a bad thing, like he's a good guy and all, just really quiet for someone who screams her head off during improv games and takes approximately point five seconds to initiate whipped cream fights."

Another shaky laugh, this time not quite fading into sobs. "Yeah, no. I don't want to date Minghao."

"Good. Great."

There they were again, those little things that got your hopes up. How well Seungkwan knew you, how deeply he was aware on whatever level that you two went together like peanut butter and jelly, how he could always make you laugh, how he seemed freaking glad you weren't getting yourself into a relationship. But if he wanted one, why didn't he say anything?

"Why do you keep saying that?" You burst out.

"What?"

"Good, great, all that," you turn slightly away from him.

He reaches over and straightens the collar of your jacket, yet another of the little caring motions you'd fallen in love with. A small way he touched you when he didn't have to. When his hands fell away, though, his jaw set, eyes fluttering closed as if in pain, like your words were a slap.

"I- I'm sorry, (y/n)."

"You don't have to be sorry," you sigh, "I just...wanted to know what that meant, I guess."

He blinked. "I know I'm one of your best friends and that's all you see me as- heck, I'm probably like a brother to you- but I admit I have a hard time with the idea of you going out with someone who isn't me. My mom told me I needed to realize I was in love with you when I apparently 'constantly talked about only you forever'," he began, making air quotes as he imitated Mrs. Boo, "but ever since I did I can't help but see the guys as threats. Especially Chan, because, well you know. I know what they say, though: you have to let them go. So whoever it is, as long as they're good, I just want to see you smile forever. Even if that's not Minghao or any of the guys. I care about you so much, (y/n), and when you said you wanted to be friends forever it touched my heart because I want the same. I really, really do. Maybe I didn't want to say that all for so long because it would have made it real, you know?" He asked with an awkward chuckle.

Holy shit. This time, your brain overrode your face, preventing a smile in favor of a shout. "I KNEW IT!" You exclaimed. "I knew saying that to Seungcheol was a bad idea! I didn't trust him with my feelings for you because he'd spill, but then why would my dumb ass trust him with a lie? Oh my God, I'm going to kill him. I thought I wasn't your type, so I just... it just seemed easier to hide them. Oh, my God!"

Seungcheol was a scapegoat for all the nights you'd spent cursing yourself, calling yourself stupid for not moving on when you'd gotten this or that sign, for believing this or that sign to the contrary, for hanging onto every last shred of hope that that extra-long hug might have meant something.

"Your feelings?" Seungkwan questioned, hands still on your shoulders as his head returned to its studying tilt. "I thought we were doing mine."

It sounded like a cry for attention, but you knew Seungkwan too well for that. Your face fell, and panicking he cupped your chin and pulled you up, only to see you shaking your head and half-sardonically, half-deliriously, laughing. What the heck were you guys doing? None of this felt real. He'd only processed one thing, and that was getting his confession out there. "I think our feelings might be the same," you reiterated.

"What do you..." Head un-tilted. Eyes wide. Grin increasing. "You were lying?"

"That's the first time I've seen you so happy about filthy deceit before."

"Hey, you told me you weren't going to use that phrase anymore," he pouted. Yep, even in the middle of all that, he was sensitive to the memes he'd made in the group. That was Boo Seungkwan for you, presentations class ace and funniest non-comedian you'd ever met.

"Sorry, it was too funny, Jeonghan loved when you said it then and he still does. Just like me to you," you added, trying to get him back on topic. You were not about to have another Lotte World Phone Call Debacle.

"You love me?" The hand that was under your chin slid to your cheek.

You nodded. "I can't believe it wasn't obvious by, well, everything. When I look at you I can feel the change in my eyes. They have to look different when they fall on yours versus anyone else. They feel twice their size and like they must have that anime shine in them."

"That's...one of the sweetest things I've ever heard."

"Well," you give your first full, genuine smile since bursting into tears on Minghao, "it's true. You make me feel like my fullest self. That's why I always seek you out. I'm scared to sing in front of people, but with you I'll belt out whatever we play. You know things about me my own parents don't even know, and that's because you've given me nothing but reason to trust and value you like you have me."

"Wow," Seungkwan sighed, sniffing, "I...I can't believe I got so lucky, I just..."

The moment he trailed off, you took a hold of his cheek, too. "Hey, whoa now, don't you start crying too, I'll do it again."

"And we don't want that."

You'd cried countless times over your feelings toward Seungkwan for almost exactly four years, though there was no anniversary. You hadn't known how important that day in class would become to you, despite how many times you'd thanked it now. Typed out paragraph upon paragraph about how no one else makes you feel quite as yourself, quite as at home, as the man from Jeju who loved hosting game nights at every opportunity. The man who would never look at a girl like you. You'd tearfully imagined how he'd reject you, how he'd accept you, if your confession would burst out during your first fight like in a movie, if you could ever have that moment in the autumn light you'd always imagined.

Well, it wasn't autumn, in fact it was a cold January day you'd more than shivered through on the lanes between each building, those falling leaves long died away and crumbled into the dirt. The trees looked like sticks, your cute outfits hid under your coats, and sometimes your nose ran. Surely it was right now after all your eyes had done. But somehow, as you looked at Seungkwan, all of that was more beautiful than every red and gold that could have drifted on the wind.

"No, we don't, do we?"

Seungkwan leaned a little bit closer. "I know we're both, like, totally crying, but I think it's safe to say we both know what we do want?"

Tears on tears cancelled out. Mingled, even, like debts paid.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seungkwan #seungkwan x reader #seungkwan x female reader #female reader #best friends to lovers #college au #angst

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jpt1311summerbnixautumn · 3 months ago

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Convention Blog Post

On August 1st, 2021, I went to Tampa Comic Con with my dad. This was the first and only convention I've ever been to, but I'm planning on going again with my dad this year at the end of August. At the time I was 15 and a very anxious teen so i was SO stressed about going and being judged. I had planned to cosplay as Nobara from Jujutsu Kaisen, but I decided last minute not to wear it because I didn't want to be embarrassed if I saw someone I knew while walking into the convention center (for context I lived an hour away from Tampa and there was no way I would see anyone I knew but you know when you're nervous you don't think clearly). I was very into manga and anime back then, and I was going with my dad because he's HUGE on Marvel and DC Comics, which I am also still interested in. I didn't have any big expectations going in, or really any sort of plan. I was hoping to buy some Chainsaw Man merch but that was really all I thought of ahead of time.

The convention was 3 days long: a Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. We decided to go on Sunday, when tickets were reduced and the convention closed earlier than it had the previous days. We also got there as soon as it opened, and I was praying that both of these conditions would make for it to be not nearly as busy as I was anticipating, but I never could've imagined how insanely packed it was. From the short walk to the parking lot to the center, we passed numerous people decked out in cosplays of all kinds. Some just wearing shirts with their favorite characters, others wearing an outfit that they bought from Amazon most likely, and a few people adorned in completely homemade cosplays that they had clearly spent days, if not weeks, completing. I didn't wear a cosplay because I thought I would be one of the only ones, but it turned out that my normal clothes were actually in the minority. After going through the long process of entering, getting our wristbands, and traversing the center to make it to the convention space, I was amazed at how many people I had already passed. And my shock only grew as we stepped inside the large room. The space was like a labyrinth, a maze with walls of tables and booths, filled with all kinds of merchandise. I had thought that fanmade anime merch like keychains and art prints would be the main thing being sold, but I was very wrong. There was a GIANT section right next to the entrance that was just at least 10 long tables of boxes filled with vintage comics. There were multiple woodworking booths that sold beautifully intricate sculptures and wall art that were all well over $300 (which seemed a very appropriate price for the amount of detail that was hand carved). It's easy to say that I was very overwhelmed by all this.

I have always LOVED people watching, and I've never been to a better place to do so than this convention. After walking around for about an hour just taking all of the information in, my dad and I went to a little snack stand and each got a cheeseburger and a drink. The few tables they had were full, so we sat against a wall and surveyed the crowd. People of all ages were cosplaying and interacting. I saw one middle aged man dressed as Batman go up to a kid dressed as the Joker who couldn't have been older than 12 and start pretending to have a rivalry with him. There were so many group costumes for things I couldn't have even imagined cosplaying. Another teenage girl was sat on the floor a few feet away from me with her group of friends, wearing her interpretation of Bill Cipher from the show Gravity Falls. It genuinely filled me with so much joy to be able to watch all of these diverse groups come together to just celebrate what they like. I was so nervous going in, but everyone there seemed so friendly and at ease, I couldn't help but feel a lot less embarrassed.

My dad and I sat on the floor for about an hour and finished our food, and we went to explore the rest of the convention. We stopped at almost every booth, and I had bought 2 things along the way, a Gojo Satoru poster for my friend's birthday, and a Neon Genesis Evangelion shirt for my other friend's birthday (all of our birthdays are within a week from each other so it was nice to be able to get their gifts all in one spot). The event didn't really seem like my dad's cup of tea, and I was getting worried that he wasn't having fun, but he reassured me that he was just enjoying walking around and hanging out. After 3 hours of being under bright fluorescent lights and surrounded by people and bright colors, we were both starting to get a headache and decided it was time for us to head out. I know lots of people stay at conventions from open to close every day that they run, and I have to give MAJOR props to them because I am not nearly strong enough for that. On the way out, my dad and I passed a booth that we missed before that was selling $5 vintage tees. I dragged him over to look and was SO excited because all of the shirts they had were actually really cool. He bought 2 Marvel shirts, and I was very happy that he wan't leaving empty handed. I also got 2 shirts, an oversized graphic tee of the 1987 Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles show that my dad made me watch as a kid, and a Def Leppard shirt that I still wear to this day (shown below in a picture way too big for this post but it won't let me make it smaller).

3 years later, as a much more confident college student, I can't wait to return to Tampa Comic Con. I'm planning on wearing a Sailor Moon cosplay that I wore for halloween last year (added below in case anyone wanted to see), and after my previous experience, I'm no longer nervous about being judged. Comic Con is a place where the only requirement to be accepted is to be kind <3

(So so sorry this is over 1k words I just got really into writing about my experience and reminiscing. Please don't dock any points I'm just overly passionate)

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harpagornis · 11 months ago

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Have you heard the tragedy of rounded wingtips the wise?

Pterosaur wing diagram by Federico Benzan. This was on Wikipedia’s pterosaur page for the longest time… until someone noted them paddle-shaped wingtips….

Recently a controversy (which I’m using the broadest definition of the term since this hasn’t actually caused any significant drama) revolving around the maxim that pterosaurs have rounded wingtips has erupted on twitter. World renowed paleontologist and actually-legitimate cryptozoologist Darren Naish has noted that there has been an emphasis on “rounded wingtips” when describing and depicting pterosaur wings in modern paleoart; upon a response from Dave Hone (whoch has published the paper responsible for this) this has evolved in a broader conversation about wing membrane lobes and the actual shape of the pterosaurian distal phalange.

TL;DR: pterosaur wing tips were rounded to some extent… but also not.

What is “pointy” actually?

Examples of alleged modern pointy wings, a frigatebird (putneymark) and a Mexican free tailed bat (jabz photography). Note that in both cases the sharpness of the wing is undermined by different segments (feathers and cheiropatagia respectively) that still blunt the terminal profile. Pterosaur aktinofibrils apparently did the same.

First of all, lets get a few things straight:

The Dave Hone paper linked above that started this whole thing doesn’t explicitly make a pointed wing an impossibility, just unstable and stupid. Natural selection doesn’t operate on intentional perfection, so a “subpar” design can still exist if it doesn’t flat out damage an animal’s survival. Thus, a pterosaur with pointy wings could hypothetically still fly, just not as well as one with a stable rounded wingtip.

That said, there is evidence that most pterosaurs had terminal phalanges that were curved to some degree, so this selective pressure is evident on the fossil reccord, though not universal (see below).

Darren Naish doesn’t dispute the presence of some roundness (though he clearly favours a minimalistic take on that). What he is mostly concerned with is what he calls a “convex lobe”, a section of the membrane projected that blunts the wing shape.

With that out of the way, we are left with two main issues:

Are pterosaur wings universally blunt? Or are there exceptions?

Was there evidence of a lobe?

The former is already semi-addressed: most pterosaur wings have curved end phalanges, as the paper demonstrates. HOWEVER, this actually doesn’t seem to be universal: in rhamphorhynchids at least, the terminal wing phalanges seem to be pointy, and in the case of Bellubrunnus they actually do the opposite of most pterosaur phalanges and curve outwards.

Bellubrunnus by Dave Hone. Notice pointy wing phalanges.

So yes, for whatever reason rhamphorhynchids and a few other groups gave this trend the wingfinger. However, they are the exception that proves the rule, as they are considered aberrant for this.

Onto the next point, the presence of a lobe. I think we can safely argue against the massive lobes seen in some diagrams like the article opener, but Darren Naish actually argues against even small lobes like in this reconstruction of Bellubrunnus:

By Matt Van Rooijen.

This I have to disagree with. Abundant studies have some that the distal section of the wing membrane of pterosaurs was full of rigid aktinofibrils (Witton 2013, th aofrementioned Dave Hone paper), so it was clearly an adaptation to generate a more rigid membrane in this area. While this does not prove the existence of a large lobe, it does make the existence of a small degree of convexity, certainly enough to at least smoothen the terminal wing in conjunction with the curved phalanges.

Muzquizopteryx wing end by John Conway. The artist has largely popularised rounded wing tips by emphasising the curved phalange with just a little bit of soft tissue trailing, which I think is a good, plausible compromise.

Along the way some people on twitter used examples of alleged pointy wings in modern animals like some seabirds and bats. However, in both cases the “sharpness” of the wing is severely undermined:

In most birds, flight feathers have round distal margins. Additionally, they form the wing in multiple segments; if one feather is damaged, others can make up for it. They certainly did not have a bony element sticking out as in the “pointy pterosaur wing” model. In fact, I find pictures of birds with fully sharp wings to be fairly rare, with even triangular winged species like falcons and frigatebirds usually having splayed feathers at some point in their flight cycle.

In bats, the wing is inherently rounded due to the presence of multiple wing fingers. Sharp wing fingers are by themselves rather rare in healthy specimens — they’re emmersed in membrane, hence why they lost their claws — at most you have species where the third finger is particularly elongated as to form a subtriangular wing. Like pterosaurs they have specialised fibers (in their case muscle groups) that prevent fluttering and maintaing the membrane’s shape in flight.

So yes, I think pointy wings are biologically inaccurate and evidence points towards at least somewhat round wing tips. But not too round, as large convex lobes are absent.

Prehistoric Planet

Prehistoric Planet azhdarchid model. Since this is a teaser picture I’m assuming it is okay to use.

This controversy has come just in time for Prehistoric Planet’s release, easily the most spectacular prehistoric documentary to date. Since Darren Naish and Mark Witton had creative control on pterosaur wings, how do they fare?

In pteranodontians, they are in fact rounded. Not too rounded, but a combination of curved phalanges and some soft tissue trailing make them more in line with the modern paleoart trend.

Azhdarchids, on the other hand, have extremely pointy wings. This makes less sense to me because they were inland flyers, which tend to have broader wings, though their distal phalange curvature is less pronounced so a large convex lobe would be necessary to create their rounded wingshape.

Overall I’m satisfied with the results, but I hope the discussion continues, especially since some people are naturally being imbeciles and going the opposite direction.

#paleontology #palaeontology #palaeoblr #paleoblr #pterosaur #pterosauria #paleoart #palaeoart

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rosavulpes · 1 year ago

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Feline ears flicked , amber eyes occasionally glancing over to his scroll , propped up against the back end of the kitchen counter where he'd pinned up a video message to his main display .

He'd already created a notes section containing a detailed outline for the recipe attached to the side of the video itself but ... it was a nice feeling just listening and following along with her motions . A soft smile to his expression as he listened to the comforting sound of her voice .

It wasn't often that he'd get to visit his parents , and other family friends in Menagerie but they'd made a habit of sharing recipes like this with one another in their messages or calls . Even though they were so far away from one another , cooking alongside of his mother like this ? Even if it wasn't live with her in real time ? Still made him feel like she was standing right next to him all the same .

Whisking together his dry ingredients of licorice root , lemon balm , and rosemary into one bowl . Normally ? tea made with these ingredients alone would be enough for him . It didn't need to be sweet , but taking into account the preferences of some of his new team members he'd decided to make some adjustments to make it a bit sweeter for their tastes .

On a wooden cutting board situated next to him , he'd cut up some cotton candy green grapes he'd gotten beforehand that would be diluted into the tea once the hot water was added to them . Then from there , the next step would be to add just a light amount of honey as the finishing touch .

Once his dry ingredients were mixed together well enough , he'd add his chopped up grapes to the bowl . Giving them a stir .

Then everything would be placed into one tall glass , followed soon after by steaming hot water , mixed again , then all the ingredients strained out once the water had taken in the flavors of all the herbs , fruit , and honey . Perfectly incorporated . A nice amber coloring to it with a delightful herbal aroma .

Pouring the tea into a kettle , and into four cups , he set everything onto a nearby tray . Now ready to be served .

Cleaning up the bowls , and utensils he'd used before leaving the kitchen area , he'd start to make his way back towards the school's lounge area where the rest of team RWBY was .

Their classes may have been over , but the school day was not . There was still homework to be done , and some required reading to do but ... that wasn't what was on his mind at the moment as he walked out of the kitchen back to student lounge with tray in hand .

He'd elected to brew some tea for the group as a means of trying to ease some of the tension they'd been having . It hadn't been all that long since they been assigned to one another as teammates ... well at least him and Weiss with Ruby , and her older sister Yang .

Due to his assigned responsibility of looking after the Schnee heiress , searching for her during the initiation exam had been his primary focus , and one he'd been successful at .

While he thought of the role of team leader as being largely superficial , as an effective team couldn't solely operate on the decisions of one person alone , the position had held more value in Weiss's eyes than his . Which he could understand now why she'd feel frustrated at not being chosen by the headmaster to serve as the leader of their team .

He didn't know the means by which the team leaders were chosen . Maybe they had been judged based off of their individual performances during the initiation exam ? Or was it based on prior academic history ? He still wasn't certain .

Regardless as he entered the room , the air still felt heavy .

With his ebony tail swaying slowly at his back , he'd set down a cup before Yang , and Ruby . Both reading , but one of the two showing signs of struggle more than the other in understanding what they were being asked to study .

" Go at your own pace . The easiest way to bring down a mountain is to chip away at it with a steady hand . Focus on what you can understand , and break down what you can't into smaller pieces you can take on one at a time . If there's anything you don't understand , feel free to ask . We'll be here "

After seeing her perk up a bit with his advice , he'd move on to Weiss now . Holding out the tray with the last two cups to see if she'd like some as well .

" Care for some Tea ? "

@wintereign

#wintereign #ic. blake belladonna #ooc. hope this is alright !#ooc. just for context and just in case #ooc. cotton candy grapes are a sweeter variant to normal green grapes XD #ooc. he wasn't cutting up actual candy to throw in there #ooc. lemme know if this is alright !#ooc. I figure for this Weiss would be sitting far enough away from Ruby and Yang that they won't hear them talk

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winterpinetrees · 7 months ago

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Council Minutes (The Gap Years part 9)

June 18th 2019

The Elven Capital / Interstate 82

zooming the third person narration out a bit. I have ground to cover and no need for consistency.

……

Though the dual desertion may seem like it would allow for a higher chance of survival, we belive that both monitors were lost to the void soon after they abandoned their posts.

While the High Council searches for three missing heirs, the rest of the elven world keeps turning. They have ceremonies to attend, disputes to resolve, children to parent, and as the report explains, huge breakdowns of infrastructure to handle. The report is clinical, concise, and catastrophic. Two of the monitors responsible for maintaining the very existence of the Nile Delta Voidport abandoned their posts and pushed off into the void, where, based on previous incidents, they almost certainly ceased to exist within a few hours and cannot be recovered. A Volunteer Watch has been assembled until new monitors can be brought in, but until they are, a centuries old hub of trade and travel is in a very precarious situation.

Apex Ishtar Mercuralis, the most important woman in the world, puts her head in her large hands. She has a plan. It’s both extremely good and extremely bad. Ishtar knows why monitors have such a high rate of desertion. Ishtar also knows that this is a supply and demand problem, and that her plan to increase supply is, well…

Councillor Gullin Eburos, Plaguekeeper, Lord of Gens Eburos, clenches one hand into a fist. “I still dissent. For thousands of years, the positions of monitor and arbiter have been at least somewhat voluntary. We are making enemies of the same group that even Lazarus dared not anger”.

Ryn shoots him a glare. “Do you have a better plan? We are dragging this planet out of a stagnant period that has lasted since the north star was in Hercules. We need better infrastructure”.

“I cannot condone our soldiers going into settlements that have provided sanctuary since the north star was in Hercules and conscripting children! They’ve already been Betrayed!”

“So kidnapping and coercion are only a problem for you when elves are the victims? Without a stable void, humans outperform us at trade and production. Either we start preparing now, or we’ll end up scrambling once we’ve been unveiled”.

There are five human seneschals on the edges of the room. In their indigo and gray uniforms, they almost look like part of the room itself. They vary in age from twenty-one to over sixty and have little in common other than their purpose and their intelligence. All five look at Ryn, then at Gullin, and then at each other. They will gossip about this later.

The Plaguekeeper composes himself. “A spark like you cannot understand that the void, and the Betrayed, are not things to treat lightly”.

Ishtar’s eyes flare indigo. “Enough. We agreed on a plan and we will see it through. Besides, we’re already pissing off every other enclave by conquering the human world. We’re not doing this for popularity. We’re doing it to save the worlds,”

The council falls silent. The Apex has spoken, and this is not a democracy. They will stay the course.

With too much to do, the council does not break for lunch. Their seneschals bring in food, (and coffee for Ryn, an uncouth commoner habit that Amedi has started to adopt). Discussion continues.

“Shouldn’t this issue have been resolved by the Harbormasters?”

“Have someone from the undercouncils pay her a visit”.

“That’s a serious violation of section four of the Lazarus Reforms”.

“I always hated Lachlan, but it is still a bit strange to know that he’s dead”.

“If the situation gets any worse, then our job in the human world will get a lot easier”.

And then the ever present topic of the missing heirs. Councillor Devana Marolak, traitor to her bloodline, representative of the Hunters, somewhat recently divorced (she got to keep the pet hawk) brings them back to it.

“The older Adust heir legitimately does not know where his sister is. That line is skilled in telepathy, but even they have limits”.

Ishtar had ordered that there would be no torturing of their noble prisoners. She seems to have been ignored. “Unfortunate. And we lost your niece's trail somewhere in the Great Plains?” The subtle insult is more effective than telling Devana off directly.

“...Yes. I typically avoid human turns of phrase, but we’re trying to find a needle in the human world’s largest collection of haystacks”.

Ryn smiles in spite of himself. “Noble culture is built on deception and survival. It shouldn’t be surprising that we can’t catch anyone. They’ve been raised for this”.

The four nobleborn councilors grumble and shift the arms that bear their vambraces. Ryn’s statement would make more sense if they were chasing nobility-by-merit, but the three lost heirs are all children. Children from the high nobility, yes, but none of them had ever really been tested. That makes it even more insulting how Kova and Marin escaped capture. Marin and his band of humans even killed a nobleman. His name was Kiper Chrysos and he fell to one human boy with a makeshift club and another with a concussion rifle set to kill. It’s not just a death, but a disgrace.

The nobility are tied together by a great web of violence. They all know that the elven world prospers when the fit survive and the strong conquer. The names of those killed by another are announced with great ceremony, and kills are marked on vambraces as trophies and burdens. All five of the high council have new marks from the coup a few weeks ago. However, the rules are very clear. Names are only declared for the elven dead, and only long-lived elves can suitably carry the weight of killing an equal. Legally speaking, Kiper was killed by no one. He might as well have been mauled by a bear. One of the other soldiers, a young Gens Tiercel elf with an undercut and a very promising future, was also shot. The impact crushed his spine, an injury that would paralyze without magical treatment and will still take him months to recover from. Speed and movement are everything to the Tiercel. The injury is a more devastating blow than the human responsible will ever understand. Marin’s survival is impressive. He’s clearly very fit, and worthy of his noble birth and Lazarus’s bloodline. That doesn’t mean anyone is happy about it.

“We’ve secured the town of Vya, at least. And our troops are being subtle about it. If Marin comes back, he shouldn’t notice anything is off until it’s too late, '' Councillor Amedi Kebero, only here because every good council needs a scrappy upstart, explains. They all know that Marin was in the suspicious car now. The analysts did some great work and confirmed the car as belonging to one Sierra Bracken, a billionaire’s daughter that matches the description of the girl from the fight. Where would the High Council be without humans to handle the data!

“Amedi, your time at the Conservatory proves you have a skill for killcraft.” Ishtar adds. The young elf turns to her excitedly (their ears literally perk up). Six small marks on their vambrace catch the light.

“The nobility won’t admit it, but they're frightened of Marin’s band. We need to prove our own bravery before asking them to risk their lives against the human world. Will you join the strike team?”

“I’d be honored to, Apex”.

“Good. You’ve been overseeing the operation, so you should already know the team. Esther will stay here and keep your affairs in order, but you should be back soon”. The human girl nods. Amedi smiles at her, the sort of smile you give a dog that’s been very good, and Esther smiles back.

“Should I use Mercuralis colors?” they ask. “Marin may recognize me. My signature is…well it’s from a regional, lower genus, and I did win my year”.

“That was quite the way to brag, Amedi,” Devana says.

Ryn is more serious. “Use whatever colors are your strongest. We cannot truly begin until the heirs have been captured”.

“And try your best to bring him in alive. We’ve already killed enough elves,” This is Ishtar’s penance. She is many things, but at least she isn’t killing children. In that small way, she is better than the Sondaicas who killed her parents and her brother and left her with nothing but a legacy and a betrothal.

In her name, if not by her direct actions, tens of thousands of Betrayed will be conscripted and three billion humans will die. But of Sondaica and its allies, only a single elven child has been killed. Marin’s death wouldn’t be a catastrophe. There are other heirs to Gens Sondaica safely imprisoned, and Marin is already old enough to be in those strange gap years between the thresholds of legal adulthood, but Ishtar just doesn’t want to. He seems like a good kid.

Never mind that Ishtar killed her first elf during those same gap years, that Amedi killed three, or that the old Apex murdered her own star-crossed love in a coup when she was about the same age as Marin. Never mind that her brothers never got a chance to grow older than her children are now. Never mind that the nobility prosper when the fit survive and the strong conquer, and that there really isn’t any room for good kids.

What’s the point of taking over the world if you can’t even try? Ishtar is trying. She has a plan that is both extremely good and extremely bad. Things are going to be different this time.

…………

In the human world a few hundred miles away, Sierra receives a call from an unknown number. She ignores it, but then the caller leaves a voicemail, and curiosity gets the best of her. The message is not in any language she can understand. Sierra puts it on speakerphone once they are back in the car.

“Is this your girlfriend!”

Marin takes the phone from her hands so quickly that she barely even registers the movement.

“Yes! That’s her!”

Clay leans back over his seat. “Are you sure it’s her and not a trick? What if she was captured? What’s she saying?”

“This is real. I left some codes in my message. Little things only she’d know. If Zerada had been captured she’d have found some way to tell me”.

“Well what’s she saying?”

“When we were kids, we sometimes climbed this really big statue on Mid-Year's Night. It’s of my oldest ancestor, Lazarus Sondaica. He took over the world a long time ago. We’d sit on his shoulders and watch the fireworks”.

Sierra interejects. “So it’s like the Statue of Liberty, but for the opposite of liberty?”

Marin takes a moment to understand the question. “Yes. Anyway, she says to meet her in Las Vegas on that same night, by a different Lazarus”.

“When is Mid-Year’s Night? Is that the solstice?” Brian asks.

“Actually yes! Well, the night before. This year that is the night of the 20th, or two days from now.”

Sierra tries to take her phone back. “That’s a huge drive from here. How does she know we’ll be able to make it?”

“It’ll be rough,” Brian explains. He’s gotten a feel for driving distances. "Fifteen hours, at least."

Marin sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t even know what she means by a different Lazarus”.

“Is there a big statue in Las Vegas?” She has cell service for once, and types that exact question into the search bar. (using a VPN of course. They don’t want to be tracked.)

“Not that I remember. There’s a lot of little ones,” Clay says.

“Google’s telling me about the Statue of Liberty replica? Does that work?”

Brian pulls the car around and starts driving south, “Emma Lazarus!”

Marin looks at him. He seems to recognize the name. “Who?”

Brian looks over at Clay and Sierra, who both seem confused. “No one? Emma Lazarus wrote the poem on the Statue of Liberty! ‘Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame /With conquering limbs astride from land to land; /Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand’?”

Marin blinks like he’s been awakened from a dream. He looks down at his feet. “‘A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame /Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name’”

Sierra looks at them, “What the hell guys”.

Brian and Marin meet each other's eyes. “‘Mother of Exiles’”.

He accelerates the car. That 15-hour time assumed that they sped a bit. “We need to get to the Statue of Liberty replica”.

The elf has one more thing to add. “Vya is about half way. We could stay the night there, if it’s safe”.

Clay looks skeptical. "If that's half the drive, we'll get there in seven hours. It'll be getting dark by then. Are we sure we should risk a potentially hostile ghost town at night?"

"Then we'll visit first thing tomorrow"

"Fine."

………

The poem in question is "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus. I am so close to plot events I’ve been imagining for years! It’s so fun. Unfortunately, I am also doing the writing equivalent of hacking through underbrush to figure out how everything else fits in.

#by me #the gap years #my oc stuff #writing that *is*#the high council #the road trip

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fcble · 1 year ago

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SOCIAL SNAPSHOT ! [ 2/5 ]

Fable’s YouTube channel currently has 1.6 million subscribers and 639 videos. The channel was launched in late 2017, though no videos were uploaded until the spring of 2018, when the group’s lineup was finalized and slowly introduced to the public. The majority of their content is split into five main categories, most of them containing smaller sections.

ON THE RECORD is Fable’s main variety show. The seasons air sporadically, often centering around large events in their career. Currently, there are five seasons.

경천동지 / TAKE THE WORLD BY STORM — The first season, which followed the group from the end of their debut preparations to the beginning of their debut promotions, ran for eight episodes in almost real time, from July to August 2018. It’s often used as a baseline for demonstrating the group’s growth. Common sentiments are “It’s so nice to see that Haksu and Andrew don’t hate each other like this anymore” and “Remember when they used to be scared of Jaeseop?”. They tried very hard to be funny and it was very obvious.

LIVE IN ASIA — Taking a bit more of a relaxed approach to variety, their second season was filmed during their first Asia tour. The six episodes aired in September 2019, shortly after the tour concluded. They split into four pairs to complete an almost Amazing Race-style scavenger hunt around the cities they were visiting. The winning pair was Kiyoung and Andrew.

겨울방학 / WINTER BREAK — The third season showcased Fable’s first company-sponsored vacation. They stayed on Jeju Island for a week and a half, filming the ten episodes that aired from January to March 2021. Since filming took place during winter, they spent most of their time indoors, except for one rather sad visit to the beach.

AROUND THE WORLD — During Fable’s world tour, they brought back the format of the second season. Season four is comprised of seven episodes, released from September to October 2022. This time, they competed in two teams. Andrew is a two-time winner, accompanied by teammates Haksu and Intak. Other highlights of this season include Eunsu’s brief participation via FaceTime, and guest appearances by Mingeun and Andrew’s families.

축제 2023 — Aptly named for the current year, the most recent season has twelve episodes, aired inconsistently from April to August 2023. In celebration of Fable’s fifth anniversary, the season accompanied the release of their second full album and its repackage, featuring conceptually related trips around Korea.

BY ◯◯, also known as the BYLINE SERIES is the solo content of each of the Fable members. The videos range from vlogs to covers to whatever else is on their minds. The upload schedules are determined by the members themselves. In order of popularity, the smaller series are:

BY HAKSU — As arguably the most popular member, it makes sense for his videos to perform the best. Haksu was also the first to start uploading solo content in late 2019. He tends to release a lot of song covers with a few much-beloved vlogs sprinkled in between. Andrew can often be found playing a piano accompaniment in the background.

BY BYEONGHWI — In some alternate universe, Byeonghwi is a YouTuber instead of an idol. He has a knack for being engaging on camera—a skill that also serves him well in his current career—framing shots, and editing it all himself. As a result, he uploads about once a month. Each video is an event, as they show off the ordinary lives of himself and the rest of the group.

BY MINGEUN — If there’s one thing Mingeun’s going to do, it’s cover a song better than the original artist, at least according to the comment sections on his few videos with their comment sections enabled. Most of his videos are vocal or dance—sometimes both—covers of kpop songs he likes, indie pop songs Andrew introduced to him, and whatever else he’s listening to at the moment. He has a few very popular covers, though most are not.

BY YEJUN — When it comes to Andrew’s individual videos, they’re almost indistinguishable from any of his livestreams. They all take place at night, and his nights are almost indistinguishable from each other as well. He goes to the twenty-four hour convenience store, he tries to write music, he stares up at the few visible stars in the sky—all captured in 480p.

BY KIYOUNG — Judging solely from Kiyoung’s videos, it’s very difficult to tell that his job is being an idol. Sure, the other members make brief appearances in his vlogs here and there, but most of them show off more of his life outside of work. Most of his friends aren’t idols, and their faces are carefully blurred out or hidden in each of his videos, making it look like he shares his meals with a bunch of apparitions.

BY INTAK — For a music producer, Intak makes videos with extremely poor audio. His are always ASMR-esque, but with a shitty phone microphone instead of a more professional one. He shows off his music production process, speaking as little as possible. He tends to leave it to the editors to write evocative captions for his accompanying visuals.

BY JAESEOP — Jaeseop’s videos come once every few months, usually immediately before or after promotions. It’s become a running joke that an upload from him means a comeback is right around the corner. Almost everything he shows off in his videos was previously seen in the more frequent uploads of the other members. When it comes to putting together his own solo content, he does not have a single original thought in his head.

BY EUNSU — A now defunct series. For a few months between when he started the series and when he left the group, he interacted the most with fans. He would give requested advice to fans based on his limited knowledge from his lived experiences. The comment section of his videos would often correct him, or argue that he should not be listened to.

LEGEND OF FABLE is another one of the group’s reality shows, produced in conjunction with Mnet. Its six episode run spanned from February 12, 2020 to March 18, 2020. Very loosely inspired by the Joseon era story The Tale of Cho Ung, the members played the roles of eight princes vying for power. Fitting in with their concept, their various activities somehow managed to extol Confucian values in the twenty-first century. The result of the casual competition was indecisive, leaving it up to the fans and viewers to debate who would have made the best theoretical ruler of Korea.

A second season was rumored to somehow follow Kim Manjung’s The Nine Cloud Dream and assumed to air some time in 2021. There have been no updates since then.

OFF THE RECORD is the overarching playlist for all of their behind the scenes content. This includes:

PLAY-BLE — Most of the behind the scenes content is within this series. Everything from MV filming to concept film shootings to recording studio behinds can be found here.

AIR-BLE — Extra broadcast videos is the second of the behind content categories. This is mostly just compilations of moments where someone turned a camera on backstage at a music show. It also includes a bit of extra content from their concerts, tours, fansigns, and other live performances.

STAGE-BLE — The more fun performances are also considered behind the scenes content. Normal dance practices, themed dance practices, live practices, part switch versions, etc. are all grouped together. The most popular of these is a Goblin (2016)-themed dance practice of their 2020 song, 꽃처럼.

The last category of content is all of their music videos. On very rare occasions, they’ll film music videos for their b-sides. It’s much more likely for them to release live or other similar performance versions. Their most-viewed video remains their 2020 breakout hit, 가자, sitting at 74 million views.

#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ social. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ edits. ]#╰ to be written in ink is to be immortal — [ snapshot. ]#ficnetfairy #idol oc #kpop addition #fictional idol community #kpop fanfic #idolverse #kpop oc

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jynxeddraca · 7 months ago

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About Tav Moonridge

Early life stuff:

Tav and her family aren't originally from Baldur's Gate - Felicity, her mom, was an animal handler and Iados, her dad, was a leather worker. Both were from towns near Waterdeep and they moved to expand the leather working business.

They settled in the Blackgate district in the Outer City.

Her dad died when she was 5, sending her mom into a deep, alcohol-fueled depression forcing Tav to have to start taking care of herself.

Tav actually started pick pocketing at 6 to make sure there was money for things like food and rent - even though she was still young enough to not really understand money and she was not great at picking pockets.

In fact, she got her wrist broken by people catching her hand in their purse often.

Despite her bleeding-heart nature as an adult, as a child she had hardened off her heart and was actually deeply unpleasant to be around if she didn't like you.

She especially disliked the men her mom brought home, even Euphony - who ended up being Temerity's dad.

Euphony often described Tav as being "The grumpiest 8-year-old he had ever met" and talked her into learning the lute so she would actually have a hobby and maybe not be so grumpy.

It worked, and though she genuinely hates being compared to Euphony in any manner - he did plant the seed of loving music in her.

He also honed her pick pocketing skills because he thought that was a necessary life skill. There were other reasons, but we won't go into that here.

When Euphony vanished and their mom died (unrelated to the disappearance) - Tav hyperfocused on taking care of Temerity, her small circle of friends, and herself - pretty much in that order.

Cat and Serena - her two best friends - did make sure Tav took care of herself (as much as they could), acted her age, and had fun now and then.

They also got her in trouble now and then too though.

Tav has never been particularly great in a fight so talked her way out of trouble when she could - but if blows came to blows she didn't fight fair. Biting, clawing, and cutting words were all on the table.

She fully bit a chunk out of someone's ear as a kid.

Sometime as a teenager, around 16 or 17, she has an epiphany about urchins, poor life choices, and falling into the same pattern of behaviors that adults did to her that kept her life more difficult than it needed to be.

Because of this epiphany, she starts trying to help current urchins from starving or falling prey to the elements - even managing to recruit other people (mostly former urchins themselves) into helping provide spots where kids can go for temporary shelter or a meal if they really need one.

It takes time and she has to learn how to allow herself to care about other people again, but within the year she has 3 other people helping her keep an eye on the city's less fortunate urchins.

Her friends jokingly refer to this as her "Network" and by the time the events of BG3 role around it's a decent sized group of adults/older teenagers who all are willing to give up their couch for a night and spare a hot meal. Tav especially is well known as a safe person to go to for help.

Tav knows a large portion of the urchins in Baldur's Gate by name or at the very least by sight.

Post game time! Obviously this is going to contain spoilers end game as well as contain many headcanons and deviations from game canon. Much of the focus is going to involve her relationship with Astarion as well.

First of all, I feel like Jaheira adopts Yenna, or she leaves with Halsin because the city is just ~*~trauma~*~ at this point.

Astarion does move in to the small townhouse that Tav shares with Temerity. It is crowded, especially with all the stuff Tav hoarded during their adventure.

They also do not really have doors to the bedrooms as it's technically a one-bedroom with the actual bedroom being in the loft (Temerity's room) and a makeshift one being under the loft (Tav's room). Both rooms are sectioned off with curtains.

Astarion immediately sews the silencing rune into the curtains upon moving in.

Tav and Astarion break into Cazador's palace shortly after end game, sack it, and look for anything that can be useful to help Astarion live in the sun again.

Sometime after, Cazador's palace burns to the ground. Astarion refuses to confirm or deny if he did it - but Tav is fairly certain he did based on how he grins whenever he talks about it.

Ransacking Cazador's former palace does not help the cramped space by the way, even with their bags of holding Gale crafted - thanks to the phase spiders and their silk they found in the blighted village - space is at a premium.

Also, Temerity does NOT like Astarion and they both act a bit like cats being forced to share the same space.

Temerity does warm up to Astarion during that first winter because Tav gets horrifically ill and Astarion does commit to taking care of her.

They both still snipe at each other, but it ends up more like sibling banter than the previous "Take a walk at noon" "Go kiss a beholder" banter it had been.

Astarion can never decide how he feels about the kids that show up to sleep on the couch or for a random meal - but it does solidify in his head that Tav has always been Like That™ and he thanks every deity again that he didn't meet Tav before the Nautiloid.

Thanks to his association with Tav, Astarion gets a reputation among the orphans as a "safe" person (Astarion disapproves) who will sometimes give really good advice on slight of hand, and if you're really lucky advice on how to wield a knife (Tav disapproves).

Since there's often urchins in the house, Astarion does worry that Tav will want kids one day. Tav assures him that she absolutely does not want children as she already raised a kid - Temerity - and does not want to raise another.

Tav writes down the ballad version of events as she had been composing in her head for most of the adventure and realizes that Volo beat her to publishing the events of the Netherbrain.

It is not the most accurate account, embellishments have been made, as have insinuations of her love life - which Tav had expressly forbidden Volo from writing about.

Tav publishes her ballad in a book along with her account of the adventure, names it: 'The Ballad of Brains, Brine Pools and Balderdash', and out of spite the first page states "Ballad and true account of the adventure leading to the defeat of the Absolute as written by Tav Moonridge - the leader of the heroes of Baldur's Gate who destroyed the Netherbrain."

While Tav is having a publishing war with Volo, Astarion does his first check in with the spawn he released into the Underdark.

Mentioned this in another headcanon list but Tara discovers that the Ring of the Sunwalker is in Gale's tower in Waterdeep, and Gale gives that ring to Astarion during the epilogue party.

Between the rewards for saving the city and selling some of the things they got during adventures (and stole from Cazador), Tav and Astarion end up purchasing a larger house.

Temerity does move into the house as well because I feel like family homes tend to be multi-generational in Faerun.

Works out beautifully because Tav and Astarion end up being professional adventurers, so Temerity gets the house to herself quite a bit.

At some point, Astarion deems it "safe enough" to check in on the spawn in the Underdark with Tav, and Tav decides to donate some of the books they gathered during their adventures.

Gale, somehow discovering Astarion and Tav are going to check in on the spawn, sends copies of books and plenty of writing materials to donate to the spawn as well.

Full headcanon here - Sebastian is in charge of the library in the ruins and is delighted about the book donations since most of the reading material left in the ruins are delicate and can't really be used for casual reading.

He also is spending time transcribing and preserving old scrolls and books from the library.

Tav and Sebastian get along quite well and Astarion does not know how to feel about that.

They both visit the spawn semi-annually to check in on them and make sure things are going good.

Otherwise, most of their adventures are about locating a wish spell or the like to cure Astarion's Vampirism.

Araj periodically sticks her nose in their lives trying to get more blood from Tav and/or Astarion to bite her.

At one point she does attempt to hire people to kidnap Tav while they're out adventuring - it does not go as Araj planned and Tav tells her that if she tries to pull that again Tav won't talk Astarion out of hunting her down.

This got long so I'm going to stop it here for now. Have a cookie if you made it this far.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #headcanons #post-game #spoilers #Tav Moonridge #Astarion #cw alcohol #cw depression

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