#I can see her joining the vigil maybe

[morgacht]

Day 3 - Old OC - Fiadh Soot step cloud

Fiadh ! My little lady, my first character (a Charr ranger)

Formerly of the Soot warband, Fiadh’s an ash legion ranger who really has spend her time out in the wilds to the detriment of her social skills. Her first warband was pretty disfunctional, and while that’s not. Great. She kind of really wishes they hadn’t gone and DIED-

She didn’t languish as a gladium for long however, taking back up with the Cloud warband and changing her name accordingly.

She like. Fairly languishing around level 35 right now, smh. And she has been since 2020! I just didn’t vibe with ranger so much and used a lv. 80 boost on morg and RUINED MYSELF

She’s fun, she has stuff I could work with and I’ll certainly get back to playing a ranger eventually. I just prefer Elementslist and Mesmer right at the moment.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Confessions

Steddie || ~2.3k words || rating: T || tags: post vecna, references to stancy, angst and fluff, robin buckley just being herself

~~~

Eddie and Robin were just finishing filling the snack bowls and mixing drinks when they heard a knock at the door. It’s a Friday night– and not what Eddie would consider a late hour–but they weren’t expecting anyone to join their weekly movie night at Steve’s. 

He glances at Robin who shrugs, shaking her head. As he rounds the kitchen counter towards the foyer, Steve’s voice carries down the hallway.

“Nance?” He sounds surprised too.

“Steve, I’m sorry I know it’s late, but I’ve been meaning to talk to you and I can’t wait anymore,” she says. Eddie can’t see her, but she sounds anxious. 

“This can’t be good,” Robin huffs. He agrees, if the sinking pit in his stomach is any indicator.

“Look, Nance, now’s not really–”

“Steve,” she barrels over him, sounding desperate. “I’ve been an idiot trying to convince myself that I haven’t missed you since we broke up– and before you say it, this isn’t because Jonathan left after we closed the last gate. When we were stuck there with Robin and Eddie, the way you looked at me was how I’ve always hoped someone would love me. You looked at me like I was everything to you, like you could look at me forever and never get tired of it. I feel wanted, and loved, and safe when I’m around you.” She takes a deep, steadying breath before pressing on.

“Last time, when we were together, I took all of my grief and anger out on you. I blamed you for  what happened to Barb because I couldn’t face it myself and I knew you loved me enough to hold the weight, and I resented you for it. You wouldn’t stand up to me, and I resented you because you loved me anyway.” Eddie can hear Nancy sniffling, small sobs carrying down the hallway. “You loved me at my worst, and you didn’t deserve that. You’re amazing, and strong, and kind and everything I could ever ask for.

“Steve, what you said in the Winnebago, I just, I can’t stop thinking about you. About us”

The silence that follows is stifling and Eddie feels bile climbing up his throat. Arms wrap around his shoulders as Robin tucks her head into his neck. Only a small comfort while months of gentle moments with Steve flash behind his eyes: soft hands brushing his curls, stolen glances, lingering touches, and warm smiles. Now Eddie’s forced to stand vigil as it’s all washed away by Nancy's whispered pleas.

“Nance, please–”

A spark of hope after a late night confession weeks ago– swiftly blown away.

“Steve Harrington, I lo–”

“Nancy,” Steve interrupts, his tone firm yet soft around the edges, “I’m in love with someone else.”

Robin gasps into his neck. Her arms around his shoulders squeeze tight, anchoring him to reality in the wake of Steve’s confession. His chest is so full he can’t breathe. 

“Oh,” Nancy whispers before another, deeper sob leaves her breathless. He never thought he’d hear Nancy Wheeler cry. Even though they’re apparently both in love with the same man, he’s grown close with her too and can’t help the urge to comfort her. Eddie’s grown to love everyone in his new found family. But Nancy is right. 

“Yeah Nance, I’m sorry. And they’re kind of here right now, so,” he says gently.

Steve Harrington is everything. 

And they’re kind of here right now…

Hope flames in his chest, blooming with warmth. Eddie doesn’t hear the conversation end over the buzzing in his own head and Robin’s frantic giggling until they hear the click of the front door and Steve’s footsteps coming towards them.

“Oh.”

Steve’s standing in front of them, wide-eyed like a deer in headlights. Eddie’s realizing he and Robin maybe should’ve hid before Steve rounded the corner to find them eavesdropping. 

“So,” Steve stammers, a fierce rouge burning his ears, “how much of that did you hear, exactly?”

Robin quickly stands, clearing her throat before Eddie can think of an answer. “Is that the microwave? Did anyone else hear the microwave ding? I think the popcorn is done, so I can go check that right now. Yeah, right now. I’ll just, umm, be in the kitchen checking the popcorn. For the movie.”

She practically sprints down the hall, and although she wasn’t subtle, Eddie’s still thankful for the privacy. Steve’s shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Everything,” Eddie answers. “We heard everything.”

“Oh,” Steve says again. He sounds anxious and unsure, something Eddie’s compelled to fix, because all he wants in this world is for Steve Harrington to be happy.

“It’s ok.” He takes Steve’s hands in his own, tracing his thumb lightly over his knuckles. “We won’t say anything to her about it, and we won’t tell anyone what she said. Nancy’s in safe hands with us. Mum’s the word!” And as Eddie mimes zippering up his mouth, he hopes that Steve won’t take the easy way out. That he won’t use the life-raft Eddie’s just thrown in his direction to keep him from drowning. 

“Right,” Steve says. He runs a hand through his hair, biting his lip as he gazes at the floor between them. The silence as Eddie waits for Steve’s next words grows long and tense. He can’t hear any movement in the kitchen, making him more anxious now that he knows Robin’s listening. Which, he’d be a hypocrite to be mad about.

Maybe he has this all wrong. Maybe Steve just needed a way to get her to leave, so he lied about having a date over. Maybe he didn’t know what to say, and just said the first thing to pop into his head. Maybe it’s got nothing to do with Eddie at all. 

Eddie realizes he’s still holding Steve’s hands, his grip tightening the longer he spirals. If it hurts, Steve hasn’t said anything. But when Eddie looks at his face, he seems dazed and lost in thought. As fast as if he’d been burned, Eddie drops Steve’s hands and takes a step backward.

“So,” Eddie stammers, voice shaking, “I’m going to go help Birdie with the popcorn. You want to get another movie started?”

Hands still frozen in the air, Steve finally lets his clenched fists fall to his sides. Eddie can see the whites of his knuckles. He hears Steve sigh, exhausted and frustrated, but Steve’s nodding with furrowed brows and taking a step backward towards the living room– away from Eddie. Too far to reach out to.

Turning away, Eddie’s in the middle of forming an escape attempt when he opens the kitchen door to immediately be swept up in Robin’s arms. Of course she’d been listening. He’s grateful for it, now that he doesn’t have to explain himself. As he buries his face into her neck, he finds a wet patch and wonders what kind of accident she got into while prepping snacks. It’s not until she starts gently shushing him that he realizes he’s crying, tears soaking into her shirt. 

“It’s gonna be ok, teddy bear,” she says, running her hand through his curls, “he’ll get there, I promise. He’s working on it, you know that.”

He nods. He does know that. Steve’s been out to Robin for a few months, but only to Eddie for a few weeks. He deserves the space to figure it out, and the grace of those around him to do so at his own pace. Still, Eddie can’t help his growing impatience alongside the increasing severity of his crush. At least Robin’s here to support the both of them.

The two of them finish gathering the snacks in silence. She was full of awkward jokes to try to lighten the mood, but when it was clear Eddie was stuck in his head, she’d stopped. He feels bad about it. He’ll make it up to her later, plus he knows she’s not upset with him. Eddie suspects they’ll be getting together sometime tomorrow to rehash everything that’s happened– after she’s finished consoling Steve, of course.

When they leave the kitchen, Eddie’s surprised to find Steve exactly where he’d left him. He’s standing frozen in the hallway, lip pulled between his teeth and hands still clenched. But when he lifts his gaze to meet Eddie’s, there’s resolve behind his eyes.

“Eddie,” Steve says, “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Oh my god! Finally!”

Eddie jumps violently at Robin’s shouting, almost directly into his ear. She’s flushed red with embarrassment decorated with a manic grin so wide he wonders if it’ll just keep stretching like taffy. There’s popcorn poured out onto the floor from where she clearly threw her hands up in excited exasperation. He watches as her eyes grow wide, her smile morphing into shock, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’, as if to say ‘oh shit, I just interrupted the most important moment in my best friends’ lives because I’m so excited and impatient that these two dinguses finally figured their shit out’.

She kicks the scattered popcorn towards the wall, like that’ll somehow hide the mess, before awkwardly passing them both down the hall towards the living room.

Eddie loves her so much.

“Huh,” Eddie chuckles, “well that was–”

“I’ve known I’ve liked you since last summer when you let me help you into my pool onto Holly’s rubber duck floaty so you could finally go swimming after you finished physical therapy.” Steve sounds out of breath, words running into each other with misplaced breaths in between. Like if he stops, he knows he won’t start again. 

It’s the only time Eddie’s felt the urge to keep quiet– when he’s not fighting for his life.

“You were so nervous,” Steve plows on, “but you said you felt safe with me, that you wanted only me to be there. You said you trusted me to help without laughing or judging you. Fuck, Eddie, you were so goddamn cute once we got you settled in with a Coke with a crazy straw in it. We were listening to ABBA and you didn’t even complain and you were so sunburnt the next day. It was the happiest I’d ever seen you.”

The memory leaves Eddie shocked. He did trust Steve to help, didn’t even consider asking anyone else because Steve just felt like the most obvious answer. He’d been there through the worst of Eddie’s post-PT work to make sure he ‘kept form’ on his exercises. They’d lounged in the sun all day, and it was the first time Eddie watched Steve relax since his final Upside-Down battle. 

Eddie feels his lip quiver, eyes burning, knowing they’d felt the same that day. Judging by Steve’s watery eyes, he guesses they feel the same now, too. 

“But love,” Steve whispers. He swallows as he takes a step closer, reaching out to grasp his hands. “Eddie Munson, I knew I was in love with you yesterday.”

His shoulders tighten as he recalls yesterday, surprised because they hadn’t seen each other at all, one of the rare days where their schedules didn’t line up. It was the first time in months they’d gone longer than thirty-six hours without seeing each other. Sure, they’d talked on the phone while Steve worked, but it’s not the same.

“I know,” Steve laughs, clocking Eddie’s confusion. “I thought about you all day. Couldn’t stop, no matter how hard I tried. Robin had to work with the customers because all I kept thinking about was tonight. If you’d get here before Robin, so we could sit out by the pool and smoke. Where we’d sit for the movie and if we’d get to share the popcorn bucket. If you’d pick a movie I hadn’t seen, so you’d lean in close and tell me a million random facts, even when you know I don’t really get it. But I just like when you’re close, next to me, and–” he hesitates– “I think that’s why you do it.”

Steve lifts their joined hands, wiping a tear from his eye using the back of Eddie’s knuckles. He returns the gesture, wiping what Eddie’s guessing is a mix of tears and snot off of his own face with Steve’s sleeve. 

“I think you lean in because you want to be close to me, too, and you don’t actually care about the movie either. Eddie, I think you ask for my help because you trust me in a way only Robin does. You give me cute nicknames like ‘sweetheart’ and ‘pretty boy’ because you’re teasing me, but I think it’s mostly because you really mean it.” Steve’s stepped closer now, and Eddie can feel the warmth of shared air between their gasping breaths. 

“I think you tease me and lean into me because you want my attention,” Steve whispers, brushing his nose alongside Eddie’s as their foreheads touch. “But Eddie, you’ve always had my attention.”

Eddie surges forward, capturing Steve’s tear-soaked lips between his own in what has to be the snotiest kiss either of them has ever had. But he doesn’t care. How could he? Eddie’s kissing the man he’s been in love with for almost eight months. 

Steve drops Eddie’s hands in favor of running one through his dark curls, while the other grips tightly at his waist. He can’t help but cup Steve’s cheeks, running a gentle thumb along his cheekbones. 

It’s soft and messy and everything he’s ever hoped for, because Steve Harrington is his everything, and he’ll do anything to keep him. Right now, he doesn’t have to worry about what they’ll tell their friends, or how they’ll explain this to Nancy, or even if Robin’s listening behind the door– he’s sure she is. No, right now, he lets himself bask in the glow of Steve’s love and soak in the comfort that Steve feels loved in return.

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER SIX: MAKE OUT FAKE OUT

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SUMMARY ↳ An unlikely ally appears! “I know you’re Spinnerette.” . . . What. The. Fuck. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: (the non-existent) threat of blackmail wc: 4.4k

Victoria’s been acting weird. You suppose it’s normal given the events from last week. Since then, multiple articles have come forth speaking of Robin and Spinnerette saving the day. The people of Gotham seem to be taking to their new arachnid friend well.

But back to Victoria—she struggles to maintain eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. It doesn’t stop her from being a stern teacher though, so you guess nothing other than that has changed. Whatever, you have better things to worry about.

Progress has been… progressing with the badassium. You’ve begun assembling the makeshift particle accelerator, but Karen estimates that you’ve only built three percent. And it took you that long. Have mercy.

You’re currently in the Den, looking over your creation.. The walls are lined with various tools and blueprints, and the centerpiece is the skeleton of the particle accelerator. You sigh, wiping sweat off your brow. This is going to take longer than you thought.

Karen’s voice chirps in your ear. “Perhaps taking a break would help clear your mind, [Name].”

You glance at the clock. It’s already past midnight. Maybe she’s right. “Yeah, I guess so.. Let’s call it a night.”

Robin meets you on the rooftop you’ve perched yourself on. He crouches next you, watching the streets below. Robin’s eyes follow the movement below with a practiced vigilance, his dark cape fluttering slightly in the breeze. The city's nightscape is a blend of lights and shadows, with the occasional sound of sirens breaking the relative silence. He glances at you, his expression giving nothing away.

“Long day?” you ask, breaking the silence.

“You ask, why?”

You groan, stretching out your stiff muscles. Robin tracks the movement. “Surely you wouldn’t come hang out with me just because you felt like it. I doubt one night of ass-kickin’ makes us friends.”

“This is not ‘hanging out’,” he grumbles, making you nod your hand in a ‘you’re proving my point’ fashion. “I am simply taking a short recess, you happen to be in my resting spot.”

“Yeah, uhuh.” You don’t believe him for a second, but you can’t bring yourself to really care.

“Batman wants you on the team.”

You damn near fall off the rooftop. “What.”

“Perhaps you are older than I thought, if your hearing isn’t on par,” he smirks.

“First of all, my hearing is way better than yours, fuck you,” you quip, quickly righting yourself. “Second of all…” you hesitate, “can we take a raincheck on that?”

Robin looks at you. “I… am busy right now. And do not have time for a team… yeah. Also, I just prefer to be alone.” The words come out choppy, as if you’re coming up with them on the fly (you are). That last part is a straight lie, you love your Avengers.

You know Robin obviously is skeptical, but he says nothing. “Why does Batman want me, anyway?”

Robin shifts slightly, his expression unreadable behind the mask. “You share the same goals we do. It only makes sense to join forces.”

Robin's words hang in the air, punctuated by the distant sounds of the city below. You shift uncomfortably, trying to process the unexpected offer. Joining Batman's team? The idea both excites and intimidates you. You've always admired the vigilantes of Gotham from afar, but becoming a part of that world was another matter entirely.

You don’t belong here. It was different when you were asked to officially join the Avengers, but fictional comic characters turned real? Your mind wants to melt. You don’t want to drag them into your mess.

“I really do appreciate the offer, but…” you sigh, and lean back. “...not right now.” And probably never. You clear your throat and stand up, Robin following. “Well, it’s been awkward. See you!” you rush out, quickly swinging away. Robin eyes you until you swing out of sight, thinking.

“They denied.”

Bruce sips his tea, humming. “Did they say why?”

Damian comes to sit next to his father. “Their reasoning was that they were ‘too busy for a team’ and preferred to be alone. It was very obvious they were hiding something, father.”

Bruce sighs, putting down his cup. “We’ll keep trying to convince them, slowly,” Bruce adds as he sees Damian moving to get up. “Stay cautious, but also stay amiable, Damian.”

Damian scoffs. “I am amiable.”

Bruce chuckles as Damian leaves.

Ms. Varley announces a project at the end of class the next morning.. The class groans loudly, of course. “It should be fun for you young folks,” she emphasizes, like it disgusts her. “It is a partner project,” the class lights up for a second, “with your tablemate.” You swear you see a glint of satisfaction in her eye as the class slumps. You and Damian look at eachother. “Together you will explore unconventional perspectives on any known superhero or vigilante of your choosing.”

The projector shows a powerpoint labeled “Hot Takes”. A few snorts are heard. “I want you to to challenge yourselves boldly,” Ms. Varley states, walking around to pass out the rubric. “You’ll select a figure that intrigues you and craft a thesis that challenges the traditional view. Support it with thorough research and present your findings in a persuasive manner."

“It’s not about being right or wrong, it’s about being able to defend your point.” Ms. Varley takes her place in front of the classroom. “This is your final project. From now until winter break, we will be spending our Fridays working on it. Only Fridays, so I suggest working on it with your partner outside of school.”

She sits down in her chair, signaling that she’s done talking for today. Buzz fills the classroom immediately, peers chattering and making plans. You scoot your chair closer to Damian. “I know what I want to do,” you declare.

“As do I,” says Damian, facing you.

“My take is better,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Damian scoffs. “I sincerely doubt you are capable of coming up with something adequate to the challenge.”

“Don’t be a hater Damian, it makes you look jealous,” you tease.. The bell rings, filling the class with sounds of hustle and bustle as students pack up. “Oh! Before you go,” you say, grabbing Damian’s wrist. You hold out your phone. “Number?”

Damian looks at your phone in confusion. You huff. “Your phone number, Dames. So we can contact each other and plan our project?” you clarify in a ‘duh’ tone.

You watch as he stares for a moment, before taking your phone and putting in his contact info. “You will come home to the manor with me,” he declares.

You blink. “Huh?”

“We will start working on it today,” he elaborates, handing you back your phone. You fumble with it for a second before shoving it in your pocket. “The faster we get it done the better.”

“Um, ok. Yeah, makes sense,” you gulp.

This time you’re the one distracted in ballet. Victoria huffs and snaps at you multiple times, so you figure she must be back to normal. Art class proceeds as norma, Ms. M making you practice your color theory. You hold back on designing new iterations of your suit, something you did a lot of back home out of sheer boredom.

Damian guides you out of the school with a hand on your back, like he did at homecoming. You wonder what exactly he is doing, since you know he feels the eyes and points at the two of you from other students. You sigh, hopefully nobody bothers you about it.

Alfred greets you at the gates, this time you make sure to actually get his name officially. Damian gets in the car first, pulling you in by the hand. Your shoulder bumps into his as you land with an ‘oof’. The ride to the manor is silent, leaving you twiddling with your thumbs. Thankfully, the ride isn’t too long.

The manor looks imposing, standing here looking at it. It’s different from seeing it from WEBBERs point of view or from an inked page. Damian grabs your arm, snapping you out of your daydreaming. He leads you through the grand halls of the mansion, his steps confident and purposeful. The interior is as opulent as you imagined, with rich furnishings and tasteful decor that speak of wealth and history.

"Your family's home is... impressive," you remark, trying to break the silence as you’re dragged along.

Damian nods curtly, saying nothing. You sense there's more to his demeanor than just his usual aloofness.

He leads you to a spacious study lined with shelves of books and a large, fancy desk at its center. Papers are neatly organized, and a computer hums softly in one corner. Damian gestures for you to take a seat. You do, placing your bag down beside your chair. Damian sits next to you.

You take out your laptop and open a new powerpoint. “My idea was that we do it on Batman,” you state, turning to Damian. “I think Batman is part of a cycle of violence. I think that he does help and protect people, but he also enables a lot of the behavior from criminals.” You stand up and begin to pace the room.

“He inadvertently contributes to a culture that normalizes violence as a means to solve problems. I mean, all of his criminals eventually break out of arkham. Scarecrow literally attacked our school a while ago! Criminals respond to Batman’s intervention with heightened aggression and increasingly dangerous tactics, which results in a cycle where each side justifies escalating their actions in response to perceived threats.”

You pause, stopping your pacing. Damian is staring at you. You cough. “That’s all to say, violence begets violence, hurt people hurt people, yadda yadda,” you grin sheepishly.

Damian nods intently. He leans back in his chair, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the armrest. After a moment of silence, he speaks, his voice calm yet decisive.

"Your perspective is not entirely without merit," Damian begins, his tone measured. "Batman's methods have indeed perpetuated a cycle of violence in Gotham. His reliance on fear tactics and physical force against criminals often leads to heightened retaliation and more extreme measures from his adversaries."

He shifts in his seat, eyes narrowing slightly. "However," Damian continues, "one must consider the broader context. Gotham City is a cesspool of corruption and crime, where conventional methods of law enforcement have repeatedly failed. Batman's presence, while controversial, fills a void where the justice system falls short."

Damian stands up abruptly, pacing the room with a controlled energy. "His actions, while extreme, have prevented countless tragedies and protected innocent lives. The criminals he faces are not ordinary. They are deranged, relentless, and would wreak havoc unchecked if not for his intervention."

He stops in front of the window, gazing out at the expansive grounds of Wayne Manor. "Batman's commitment to justice is unwavering. He sacrifices his own safety and personal life to ensure that Gotham's citizens have a fighting chance against the darkness that plagues our city."

Damian turns back to you, his demeanor earnest. "Our challenge will be to present a balanced argument," he concludes, returning to his seat. "Acknowledging the complexities of Batman's methods while critiquing their consequences. We must delve deep into both sides of the debate to craft a compelling thesis."

You nod, absorbing Damian's perspective. You’re impressed, but yeesh. He could’ve been more subtle, in your humble opinion.

“I’m impressed,” comes a voice from the doorway. You and Damian turn around to see–

Bruce Wayne. You sigh deeply inside your mind.

“Father,” says Damian, looking a bit lost. “How long…?”

“Since your friend started speaking. I apologize, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I only meant to introduce myself when I heard your compelling argument, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says, looking awfully apologetic. Of course, Batman himself heard all that.

He turns to you and sticks out his hand. “Bruce Wayne, Damian’s father.” You shake his hand humming in affirmation.

“Nice to meet you, sir,” you smile. Alfred comes in with some snacks and refreshments, placing them down on the table. You and Damian thank him, seemingly on autopilot. Bruce smiles at Damian.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he says, and then he’s out the door.

You rub your palms on your pants. “Welp,” you hum, sitting back down and pouring yourself a cup of tea. “I think he likes me.” You pour a cup for Damian and pass it to him. He sits back down as well, accepting the cup.

“I think he does, as well,” mutters Damian, sipping his tea.

The rest of the evening is spent refining your argument and laying out the skeleton on your powerpoint. Despite Damian's initial reservation about your abilities, you find that you complement each other well in terms of ideas and research methods. You check the time, it’s a little past nine.

“I should get going, I don’t wanna leave Nari alone for too long,” you say, beginning to gather your belongings. Damian raises a brow. “My cat,” you clarify.

Damian's eyes brighten very subtly. You know what he’s thinking, so you show him the picture you took of Jon holding Nari. “He’s cute, right?”

Damian analyzes your picture like it’s an art. He nods in approval. “You shall have to bring him over to meet Alfred.”

“The.. butler?” you question, as if you don’t know better.

“The cat.”

Damian walks you out of the manor where you find Bruce. His eyes spot you two approaching and nods in acknowledgement. “Alfred is already waiting outside for you,” he tells you. You nod and step outside, feeling the cool air hit you. You thank Alfred as he opens the door for you, stepping inside. Damian and Bruce are standing together on the porch. Bruce is telling Damian something, but he is only looking at you.

You send him a hesitant smile, and he nods at you.

Bruce watches the car drive off. “Still suspicious?” he asks.

“Nothing of note has happened,” Damian begrudgingly tells him. Bruce warmly chuckles.

“Well,” he starts, looking at Damian. “I like them.”

Damian narrows his eyes. “I do not like what you are insinuating.” Bruce shrugs innocently, stepping back inside the manor. Damian stands in the cool air for a moment, before following him inside. 

The dance instructor has a headache, so she says that you all can do whatever you’d like, as long as you don’t bother her. You sit against the far wall, laptop on your legs. You’ll use the time to finish the assignments you’ve been procrastinating on.

Victoria surprises you by sitting next to you. She surprises everyone else to, if their wide eyes are anything to go by. They quickly look away at her glare. “Hey, Vicky,” you mumble, unbothered.

She pretends to look interested in what you’re typing. Her eyes watch your fingers as they rapidly move across the keys. She clears her throat.

“I would like to practice some more after school. I expect you to be there,” she says primly.

You raise a brow, still looking at your screen. “There’s no practice today.”

“Obviously,” she scoffs. “I wouldn’t be asking you if there was. I just think… it would be beneficial to us.”

You look at her. She’s crossed her arms and is looking down at her lap. You exhale and nod. “Yeah, okay.” You didn’t have anything planned after school anyway. Victoria nods, sitting beside you for the rest of the period.

Damian suggests that you come over again to work more on the presentation, but you have to deny. “I have a ‘special’ practice session with Vicky,” you wink.

Damian ignores your innuendo in favor of furrowing his brows. “You don’t have practice today.”

“First of all, what do you know?” you huff, putting your pencils away. “Second of all, you’re right. However, Vicky has ordered extra practice. Just the two of us.”

Damian grips his bag a little bit tighter. You wave goodbye as you leave the classroom, heading to the dance studio. Victoria’s waiting for you, still in her uniform. You place your bag down, suddenly tense. Victoria crosses over to you, grabbing your hand. “Shut the door,” she demands.

You obey, curious. “Something wrong?”

She fidgets with your web-shooter-turned-bracelet, like she’s looking for something. You’re not worried, the form it’s in right now gives nothing away, but you are really confused right now.

“Vicky?” you implore, trying to catch her eye.

“I…” she hesitates, before straightening her shoulders. “I know who you are.”

You furrow your brow. “What exactly does that mean–”

“I know you’re Spinnerette.”

.

.

.

What. The. Fuck.

You blink, because that’s all you can do. “What?”

“Don’t try to deny it. There’s no use,” she crosses her arms.

“Vicky, this is crazy. I’m not Spinnerette! Was it the Scarecrow attack? Are you still scared? Maybe you should see someone–”

“Spinnerette called my Vicky!” she snarls, pointing a finger at your chest. “No one calls me that but you.”

Your tongue pokes your cheek, stepping back. You never would’ve thought Vicky would be the first to figure you out. Though you suppose you haven’t been as careful as you thought. Fuck, how could you be so careless? Do you still try to deny it? Surely it won’t be that hard, but clearly Vicky is smarter than you think.

“Perhaps she could be a formidable ally,” suggests Karen. “She may have access to resources we need.”

You straighten at Karen’s voice. She’s right, of course. Victoria’s loaded. She can throw money at people to get you the materials you need. Expensive, high quality material. There’s just convincing her…

And maybe… it’ll be nice to have someone else know in this universe.

You sigh and hold out your arms. “Fine, you got me. I’m Spinnerette.”

Victoria smirks victoriously. “Show me.”

“Show you…?” you mutter.

“Show me some proof.”

You blink at the audacity. She was just accusing you of being Spinner, and when you admit that you are, she tells you to ‘prove it’ to her!? You sigh, tired of it all.

You walk to the wall of the room, placing your foot on it and climbing up. It’s a comical sight, the way your body completely changes rotation effortlessly. You walk along the ceiling, moving back to Victoria. Jumping down, you purse your lips and spread your hands. “Happy?”

Victoria’s got a glint in her eye that makes you nervous. She nods, and you set your hands on your waist.

“Okay listen, you know now, there’s no going back from here. If you tell anybody–” you begin, voice taking on a threatening tone.

“–I want to help you!” she blurts.

You blink. “Pardon?”

“Let me help you do your… saving people thing!” she says, waving her hand around. She steps closer to you, eyes shining. Huh. Well, you were going to threaten her and her parents' credibility as members of society. Rich people always have some skeletons in their closets, and you sure as shit are capable of finding them. This is a surprising turn of events.

Still, you scoff. “This is insane–”

“I can be your sponsor! Like whoever makes all of Batman's stuff!”

“I would’ve never expected this from you—why do you want to help me?” you ask incredulously.

“Nothing I do satisfies my parents!” she growls. Oh dear, backstory time. “They literally left me the company to inherit, but doubt my ability to run it. I pay attention, I get good grades and I do everything they say, but they still doubt me. I even try to get with stupid Damian Wayne.” She throws her hands up. “I don’t even like him!”

“I know I can’t tell them you’re Spinnerette, but if I can successfully help you do what you do…” she curls her hands together. “Then at least I would know that I’m good at something.”

You’re left speechless. It’s like you’re listening to a brand new person. You place your hands on her shoulders. “You already are good at something, dance!” You gesture to the room. “You work harder than anyone else here!”

“Dance isn’t my future,” she scowls.

You purse your lips. You have no idea how she feels. The adults in your life have always let you be yourself. Even if they didn’t you’ve always had the backbone to tell people to step off and let you do your own thing. Rich people like Victoria’s parents can get pretty extreme. You wouldn’t be surprised if they disowned her for not wanting to inherit the company.

You sigh, running a hand down your face. “Okay,” you mutter. Victoria stiffens in anticipation. “You can help.” You’ve been evaluating her this whole interaction. She’s a sheltered rich kid looking for adventure and on a weird journey of self discovery. She isn’t looking to rat you out (she kind of needs you, anyway).

She squeals and claps her hands, before clearing her throat and composing herself. “I look forward to our partnership.”

Arms crossed, you grumble out, “uhuh.”

“How do they work, anyway?” she says, grabbing your wrists, pressing around your bracelet.

“Uh, it won’t work in the state that it’s in–” a web shoots out of it, sticking to Victoria’s blazer. You guffaw. “Karen!” you gasp, knowing in the web-shooters’ bracelet form it wouldn’t shoot unless she made it.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” she asks cheekily. Traitor. God, she’s been waiting for someone else to talk to, hasn’t she?

 Victoria looks mystified by the web actively attached to her. “Who’s Karen? she asks as she tries to grab the web.

“Do not–!” you grab her hand. “–touch it.”

“Why? Oh, right. It’s sticky, huh?”

“Yes, Vicky. The spider webs are sticky–” the door to the dance room opens, and you stiffen. Shit, the web–

Victoria closes the distance between you two, jumping on you and wrapping her legs around your waist. You instinctively hold her thighs to support her, looking at her in alarmed confusion.

“What–” she silences you by pressing her lips against yours. All coherent thought goes out the window, because literally what is your life?

Her hands wind around your head, and her lips caress yours with a soft yet firm pressure. Your heart races, pounding in your chest as you instinctively tighten your grip around her legs, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body against yours and the taste of her lips make everything else fade away.

After what feels like an eternity, she slowly pulls back, leaving your lips tingling. She gazes at you with a mix of mischief and satisfaction, running a hand through her hair to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. You stare at her in awe, your breath coming in short gasps. She's got balls of steel, no doubt about it. You just gained a whole new level of respect for her.

She looks to the side. “Oh, hi Damian.”

Oh god. You look to the entrance of the room and sure enough, Damian’s there. He’s looking at the two of you with wide eyes, unable to school his expression. He’s stopped dead in his tracks with your phone in his hand.

Wait… your phone!

You shift so Victoria’s back is facing him. You balance her with one hand, reaching between you two to get rid of the web that’s squished between you. You do it quickly, balling it up in your hand and setting down Victoria on the floor and heading over to Damian.

“Thanks, I didn’t even notice I left it,” you smile casually, internally screaming.

Damian says nothing as you take your phone from him, stuffing it in your pocket. You place your hands on his chest and guide him out. “Okay. Bye now. Talk to you later!” He seems to finally realize what’s happening, brows furrowing and looking at you before you close the door in his face. You lean against it, listening. There’s no sound for a bit, before you hear Damian walk away. You sigh.

“Holy shit, Vicky. What the hell?” You can’t help but laugh. You throw the balled up web in the trash, making your way over to her. She’s got a cheeky smile on her face, hands behind her back.

“It’s like I don’t know you anymore,” you tease. She’s looking at you.

“I like you,” she says, making you freeze for probably the tenth time this afternoon. When will it end?

“I have feelings for you,” she elaborates, pacing. “I know that you don’t feel the same. I just…” she stops, turning to face you. Her eyes peer earnestly into yours. It crushes your heart. “...I know your secret. Now, you know mine.”

You whisper, painstakingly soft, “oh, Tori…”

She sniffs, swatting your shoulder. “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not in love with you or anything.”

Still, you feel like the worst human being ever. It’s not your fault you don’t have feelings for her, you know that. And yet… you’re probably the first person she’s ever shown this side of her to. Dare you say, her first real friend.

You pull her into your arms. “I’m so sorry.”

She melts into your arms, gripping you tightly. Her light sniffles fill the room.”I’ll get over it,” she promises. You only hold her tighter. After what feels like an eternity, she withdraws from you, wiping her tears.

“Okay, some ground rules,” you say, hopefully providing a much needed topic change

“Number one, you can’t tell anyone.”

She nods. “Obviously.”

“Number two, I call the shots. If I say do something, do it. I know better, it’s for the best.”

“Number three, this changes nothing. We can act like friends if you want, but if your grades start dropping or people start noticing you acting strange, we’re done. Got it?”

“Got it,” she agrees. You heave out a sigh. “Go home, Tori.” You web over her bag and hand it to her. She goes sparkly-eyed again.

“Will you patrol?” she can’t help but ask.

“I think I deserve the night off. The Bats can handle it.” You grab your stuff and turn towards the door. “I’m gonna take a long nap when I get home.”

“Let me take you home then!” she blurts.

“Jesus, do all you rich kids have chauffeurs?” you ask. She shrugs. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I just wanna lay down and not wake up for three years.”

Victoria bids you goodbye as you make you enter your apartment. You drop your bag, groaning at your stiff shoulders. You sag your way over to your bed, flopping face first into it. You knock out almost immediately, letting the stress of the day leave you. Spideys never have it easy, do they?

notes: y'all i've had that tori scene in mind since i first made her LMAO

[roguishcat]

Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊

This was supposed to be 500 words. It isn't. Also, it was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted drabble. I have no clue how it turned into angst/comfort. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you will enjoy reading it! ❤️

Day 1 - Strawberries, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

Pairing: the reader (You) x Astarion

Tags: Insecurities, mild angst/comfort, implied nudity

It was yet another boiling hot day and the group was suffering. Having to wear heavy leather armour and full supply packs whilst encountering a veritable cornucopia of monsters certainly did not help their mood.

When you saw the glittering blue thread of the river on the horizon, you felt like falling on your knees and weeping tears of joy. The rest seemed to be just as excited as you at the prospect of washing the grime and dirt off their sweat slicked bodies. Even Lae’zel for once did not complain when Gale tentatively suggested that they continue on in that direction.

Your steps quickened and after another hour you finally felt a cool breeze caress your cheeks. You looked over at your rogue walking a little behind you, the gentle wind teasing his silver curls. Astarion was the least affected by the weather but even he seemed to visibly relax when he realised that they would be stopping shortly.

“Phew, soldier. It is hotter than the hells today. Can’t wait to go for a dip. In fact,” Karlach grinned, “can our leader be persuaded to stay here till tomorrow?”

“Well, it would certainly be good for the morale,” Shadowheart agreed, letting her pack drop with a thud. “I, for one, am not moving anywhere until I wash the viscera out of my hair.”

“Tsk, vanity is a vice, dear,” Astarion teased, moving to set up his tent.

“Says the vainest person in Faerûn and beyond,” Shadowheart shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Most certainly! But you see, it would be a sin against all creatures to deny them the opportunity to gaze in admiration upon my beauty. You agree my sweet, don’t you?” he grinned, looking at you fondly.

“Perhaps, although when it comes to looks, I’m afraid this lot certainly could dethrone you, Astarion. You are an attractive bunch,” you smile at your friends as they prepared to finally, finally enjoy the weather rather than suffer in the heat.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest, but I am just happy that we aren’t getting attacked for once. I am half-expecting something to jump out the bushes at any moment. We need to stay vigilant,” Wyll reminded everyone.

“Argh, monster hunters,” Astarion scoffed, “so paranoid.”

You didn’t hear Wyll’s reply, choosing to step into your tent and begin to shed the layers upon layers that you had on.

As you undressed, you scowled as you uncovered yet another scar. Spells healed cuts and wounds well enough, but unfortunately your body was covered in reminders of battles fought.

You tried not to think about. You had bigger, more urgent matters to attend do. But, as you thought of Astarion’s beautiful, unmarked face, you felt an ugly feeling rise as you thought of how a creature as perfect as your elf would think of you when the adventure would come to its inevitable end.

You knew he was fond of you. Knew that he was grateful for what you did for him. And maybe that would be enough for a while still. But you also were under no illusion about what would happen once it was no longer necessary for your merry little band to stay together. The end of the Absolute would probably mean the end of this alliance. They would all carry on their personal quests, fighting their battles, living their lives. And you would let them go. Let Astarion go too. Because you loved him and realised that there would be nothing worse than deny him the freedom that he so desperately fought for.

You heard splashing and laughter from outside the tent, making you smile. You didn’t feel like joining in, but perhaps you could go for a little swim once everyone settled in for the night. Yes, a midnight dip sounded heavenly.

Hours trickled by and finally everyone bid each other goodnight and soon all was still. You gathered your supplies and put on a thin cotton slip. It was not something that you would usually dare to venture out in, but everyone was clearly resting, so what was the harm?

Quietly, you slipped out and walked barefoot along the shore, careful to avoid the sharper rocks, and made your way away from camp.

As you were about put your things down, you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck rise. Someone or something was watching you.

“Astarion, if you want to catch me unawares, then you shouldn’t have doused yourself in your signature scent. I could smell you before I could hear you,” you turned, your eyes locking with ruby ones.

“Oh, please! I was hardly being subtle,” he took a step towards you, “in fact, I was all but stomping my feet not to startle you.”

“Sure you were,” your lips quirked into a smile and you shivered, suddenly feeling very exposed as he levelled you with an intense, hungry look.

“Any particular reason for you waiting until now to go down to the river, hm? I thought you just couldn’t wait to cool down.”

You gripped the towel tighter, not wanting to talk about your insecurities. As far as everyone was concerned, you were the confident, daring leader. The one who threw yourself headfirst into the epicentre of any battle. And you would rather walk on red-hot coals than admit that you were self-conscious about your body to Astarion, out of all people. Being in a situationship with an impossibly gorgeous vampire did not mean that you felt worthy of being in a relationship with the said mind-numbingly beautiful vampire.

This wasn’t the most exposed you were, you all but shared a tent and were intimate on several occasions. But sex was about being lost in the moment, there was hopefully little opportunity for him to see the full extent of the damage done to your body over the years.

“Darling?”

Your eyes snapped to his fingers as he reached out to cradle your wet face in his hands.

Shit.

Were you crying? You so were not standing near naked in the middle of nowhere with your intoxicatingly beautiful lover and pathetically crying because you felt that you could never, ever hold a candle to him even on your best day. Except apparently, you were.

“I- I’m sorry. I guess the heat got to me. You should go back to camp.”

“I’m staying.”

“No,” you wanted to sound firm, but it came out far less certain than intended.

“Why?”

You pulled on the hem of your slip down subconsciously and looked away. Astarion was quick to catch on. His eyes softened and his hands fell to your shoulders.

“Darling, how many times do I have to tell you how beautiful you are for you to believe it? I can hardly keep away from you.”

“I know. But that’s hardly attraction. I am just, kind of, there. And you are grateful and, I suppose, maybe you-”

He scoffed. “Don’t insult me by insinuating that I have been forcing myself to come to your tent every night for the past several months. You were the first to tell me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And now, I very much want to do this.”

You saw a flash of a blade in your peripheral and then felt the fabric slide down as it fell to the ground. You dropped the folded towel you were still holding in a futile attempt to keep what was left of your clothes on you.

“Perhaps a more hands on demonstration of how I feel about you is in order. Time to be a man of deeds, rather than of words, so to speak.”

His lips found your neck as he threw the dagger on the ground and gripped your waist tight, pulling you closer to his body.

“But my scars-”

“Love, I don’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth unless it is my name, are we clear?”

“But-”

“You told me that my scars don’t define me. That I am more than just my past. It is baffling that you would show endless kindness to anyone but yourself. So let us not waste another moment. No more words.”

You nodded and your eyes fluttered closed, submitting to his eager hands.

“This is what happens when we have no opportunity for taking some time to ourselves. Yet another drawback of staying within earshot of everyone. We are overdue for a little private pool party, hm?” he said, lifting you up and carrying you to the river.

And then Astarion descended onto you, mapping your body with his lips, committing your sighs and moans to memory.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[isa-ghost]

I had a dream that Phil joined another smp and we eneded up getting more q!Phil lore and now that I woke up I'm lamenting it's not real ;;;;

Bits I remember is him reaching the End with someone else through almost a glitch? Like they were leaving the nether just as a ghast tried exploding the portal and it took them theyre. But like Phil finds a message for him in there? With a green feather in it.

So he follows the message and finds a secret base in the Overworld where he runs into Chay and Lullah???? But as if theyd hatched and became proper players. And it seems fine cause it's Sunmin and Ama voicing them but Phil feels a bit wary (and theres a point where "Lullah" makes a joke in portuguese instead of spanish and Phil corrects her) so the vibes are that it's something mimicking them or straight up hallucinations.

And after he leaves we get revealed that he's still somewhat possesed by the Ender King???? As in the jerk figured out a way to do the more subtle possesion and just influencing Phil and making him forget chunks of time where he was more in control.

I was gonna get villain Phil in my dream and now i'll never know how it goes ;;;;;;

Holy shit that's sick??? Omg???

Allow me to take thos and run for a moment, imagine with me real quick:

My personal belief is that person he went to the Nether/End with was Fit or Etoiles. Or maybe Pierre. Those are largely the people he'd break shit with.

I fuck SO HARD with "Ender King never fully left Phil's body, he left a shred of himself in him Just In Case and it's undetectable (for now)."

I don't know why I'm so stuck on the green feather. Like... Who or what could that be? Idk why I'm so hooked on it, something about that is just so compelling but I've got nothing as to how to run with it. Though for him to find the feather with the message and then find the kids hatched,,, Idk, maybe Chayanne has feathery wings that are green (bc you KNOW Lullah's would be purple).

Also possibly fake Chayanne and Lullah ooouuuuhhhh... Consider: It IS them but that shred of Ender King is amplifying Phil's already usually easy-to-trigger paranoia. Not to mention we don't know how long after QSMP this is, the kids could have plenty of time to change and learn. It'd make sense that Lullah would want to carry on her memory of the Brazilians by learning Portuguese and even if not that, it's not unreasonable to say that During QSMP she could've picked up plenty of Portuguese things from the Brazilians themselves. It's just that Phil has never heard (or perhaps doesn't remember ;D) her making such references.

This is post-QSMP ending since you said it was a new SMP. This is post Death Family finale. As far as Phil knows, his kids are either dead, asleep forever, or hatched into crows back home in Hardcore. How could they have left there to hatch? It's too good to be true. He refuses to believe it's them (at first) because he doesn't want to get his hopes up. He doesn't want to reopen that wound, it's not even closed yet in the first place!

AND THE SPICE OF HIM STILL BEING PARTIALLY POSSESSED. THE KIDS NOT KNOWING YET AND HAVING TO REALIZE IN REAL TIME AND HAVE THE HORROR DAWN ON THEM. AUGH. Like when they see him for the first time, it's SO CLEAR he's doing TERRIBLE and not even just because of the partial possession.

He hasn't been readjusting well to being alone in Hardcore again. He's disheveled, he clearly hasn't been sleeping well, he's closed off, standoffish, a little cold. Not the warm, chill, smiley father still fresh in their minds. He's resistant to making new friendships on this new SMP because he hasn't overcome the pain of saying goodbye in QSMP and is he Hyperaware that eventually he'll have to say goodbye again here and he Does Not Want To. He is just Not doing well mentally and you can physically see it when you look at him.

The fucking spice of the kids not being around to be vigilant and catch that shred of EK sooner, the fact that Phil's been in such a bad state that EK has just been free to fester inside him. And you KNOW the kids would blame themselves for not being around to be vigilant.

Phil doesn't know EK is still hiding in his body yet, he doesn't Know what's festering inside of him, and it's actually hard to say if he'd do anything about it if he Did know because he's so depressed and hurt, he's still grieving. After all, in canon, Phil was very upfront with the kids post-possession that if anything ever happened to them again, he'd give up and just let EK take him.

But I bet you Chayanne and Lullah would remember him saying that as soon as they clock that there's a shred of EK lurking in their dad. And they'd be TERRIFIED that it's on the verge of becoming a reality.

Dude your dream is COOKING, even without me taking it and stretching it out like this. I'm going insane. /pos

[wilsons-journey]

July Tinapple

Engineer • Iron Legion • She / Her • 18 years old.

Future Commander in an alternative AU in which my other Charr don't exist. An AU that is closer to the original Story, yet with a small twist: She is the daughter of Tybalt Leftpaw.

She is also my go to replay the whole Story of GW2 again. Its ages since I last did it.

So you might see her grow in her role as Commander.

More about her under the cut: (Beware of long text / brabble)

July is a temperamental Charr with a short fuse. She lives in the shadow of her sire - getting reminded of his disgrace all her life. That's why she got the name Tinapple in her warband - just to mock her. But also as a reminder of where their roots lie. For July its a fuel to prove everyone she is better than her Sire. That she will never be a disgrace and serve the legion well. She works hard - extremely hard.

Even more when her Warband nearly got wiped during the Ascalonian Ghost attack. Only Maverick remained - her best friend, but also mate for a short time. Their relationship won't last long - it just didn't work out - a recurring theme in her life. But they stay best friends - even later on. Maverick is a person she loves to return to, when she want's to forget the weight of the world. He will never be a friend to talk to about heavy topics, but at least someone who knows how to distract her.

"Looks like failure runs in the family" - a sentence that makes July blood boil. She gets to hear that often after loosing a huge chunk of her warband. It slowly fades, after she proves herself over and over again. Granting her soon the title of Centurion. Her constant need to prove herself lets her slip into something, she actually never wanted to sign on. And she will be too proud, to admit that this title might be to much for her. She will become the Commander - a huge and important figure in the history of Tyria.

And it starts with joining one of the three big orders. But instead of joining Vigil, the order she actually wanted to join. She ends up in the Order of Whispers, where she gets reunited with her Sire. All because of an sarcastic joke and false pride, to admit she wanted to join another Order.

At first she is not happy to see her Sire. He despises him for all the trouble he caused her, for just being related to him. But she will warm up to him. Even starting to see him as a father.

Only to have him ripped from her later on. She will grow so unbelievable angry at this. Hatred against her Sire,... her father will once again boil up. Only to cover how hurt she is, loosing him. July always had problems to express her true feelings. She hides these behind a loud and rude mouth. She will rather yell at you, then admit she is hurt. Its easier. It always was.

She will channel all the hatred for the fight against the Elder-Dragons. She wants them dead - each of them. This might change when she finds an egg - forming a huge crack in all this hatred has accumulated all these years.

Some loose bits: (that might change with replaying the story)

Trahearne, he will play a huge part in her development. He can't ease her pain and the hatred she feels for the world. But he will become someone she looks up to. Someone she feels first sees her worth. Who is truly proud of her. Who believes in her. Despise all her flaws. (Imagine the heartbreak during HoT)

She has terrible anger issues. Something she has to work on for many years.

She is an emotional mess. And she does her best to hide this ugly side. Just as the anger that boils in her.

She is incredible talented in her craft as Engineer. She will take huge part in crafting weapons against Dragons and their minions. They will be effective and absolutely deadly.

Later she will definitely pick up on Jade-Tech

Yet during all the years as Commander, she constantly doubts her abilities. She fears she is not strong enough - especially when Rytlock comes back as Revenant. He is so much more powerful than her. All she can do is craft stuff. Maybe hit hard with her Hammer,... but thats it. Without her Gadgets she is nothing. This gnaws on her a lot.

At one point she might ask Rytlock to take over as Commander - maybe after HoT. Of course he will refuse.

She is friend with Kairo Windshear (Belongs to @brightwingedbat) We still have to figure out a lot. But so far it looks like their relationship is messy. They hooked up for a while, but like with Mav, - it didn't worked out.

She will pickup the love / fixation for apples from her dad.

July desperately seeks for a meaningful something / relationship. Something to hold onto - something that won't leave her and maybe see her. Not the angry mess - but also the person behind all this. Just,... a constant in her life. An anchor, to make her feel safe.

At this point of her journey I'm not sure if she will find it or how this will look like. Will she find a soulmate - as a everlasting friendship or love? Will she make peace with her role as Commander and start to thrive in this role? Will the sudden motherhood for Aurene bring her that? Or with own Cubs?

Who knows. At this point her pages are still blank. Its on her to fill these.

(While writing this,... Gw2 Story has so many moments where they give the Commander something and then its taken away. Even in a way Aurene. Man,... you can fit so much trauma in the Commander. July,... I'm sure you will do your best, but I already see a lot of suffering for you ahead. Good thing she is stubborn,...)

---

And bonus, some screens of her and Tybalt, shortly after their first meeting.

He tries hist best.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

could I have a dark chocolate number 7 with Nico Robin?. Thank you

I just had to get the Robin request I had done today since it's her birthday

Yandere Robin x GN!Reader

1k words

Prompt:

I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.

Robin adores these moments.

Being able to enjoy a quiet moment without fear is a gift in and of itself. Being able to do so in your company? Priceless. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

The Thousand Sunny was currently docked at a new island, and you two decided to spend some precious downtime at a local cafe after checking out a bookstore. Both of you were silently enjoying each other’s company while reading your respective finds. Words weren’t necessary during times like these. 

Nothing could ruin this.

The door to the cafe chimed as a new customer walked in. Instinctively, Robin spared a glance to see who it was. Such vigilance was a force of habit at this point in her life, one she doubted would go away anytime soon, if ever. Her grip on the book tightened when she noticed who it was.

She hadn’t caught the pest’s name yet, and frankly she didn’t care to. She had encountered him at the aforementioned bookstore when he decided that you were simply the most attractive person he’d ever seen- the one thing they could agree on- and incessantly hit on you until you two were able to sneak out a side door when he wasn’t looking. 

Was it a coincidence that he came here too, or was he now adding stalking to his list of undesirable traits?

Robin’s stiff demeanor managed to catch your attention, “Is everything alright, you look- Oh.” Your eyes followed her own and spotted the problem. You abruptly lifted your book so that it was covering your face, “Maybe if we keep our heads down he won’t see us.”

“Oh hey, fancy seeing you here!”

Shit. So much for your idea.

The nuisance confidently strolled up to the table, zeroing in on you while ignoring Robin. You cringed away as he sidled right up to you; not quite invading your personal space yet, but not far off from doing so either. 

“Yeah, what a coincidence,” you said flatly, not looking away from your book.

Undeterred by your response, he keeps talking, “How about I join you? We can finish-”

“Don’t, just leave.” If you were going to be too polite to tell this prick off, then Robin would take the reins. She had no problem telling some creep that can’t take a hint to piss off. The man gawked at her, taken aback to be getting told off. Robin continued, “They couldn’t be more obviously disinterested in you, get over yourself.”

“I didn’t ask you, I don’t care what you think.” He was positively seething, a vein in his forehead throbbed out.

“She’s right.” His head whipped back to you as you spoke up. “I’m with her. I’m not interested in getting to know you.”

The pest looked so mad that Robin was readying herself to defend you in case he lashed out. After a tense pause, his arm shot out and knocked your books off the table and then he immediately turned to run away from the situation like a coward. But not before spitting out a few absolutely vile words in your direction.

Robin was not about to let that slide. She stood up so harshly that her chair almost toppled over from the force, “I’ll be right back, I have to go take care of something.” 

She started to pursue him, but was stopped by a hand pulling on her skirt. You were on the floor picking up your fallen books and gave her a pleading look, “Don’t. He isn’t worth the effort, just let it go. I’m fine, really.”

Nothing about what just happened was “fine”. Robin herself had a thick skin and didn’t let anything she deemed important get to her. This was important. No one was allowed to treat or speak to you that way. Unfortunately, it seemed you disagreed with that sentiment. Every time she put someone in their place in your honor you would try to stop her and insist that she was being too extreme.

She wanted to go after him… but she also didn’t want to upset you. With a heavy sigh to settle her nerves, she knelt down to help you pick up the rest of your books, “You’re right. He doesn’t matter.” The relief on your face was palpable, and Robin cherished the sweet smile that graced your face after.

Now that the annoying scene was done and over with, both of you settled back into your respective seats to resume as you were before. While you happily dug back into your book, Robin reopened her own. She wasn’t reading it, however.

Using her devil fruit, she spawned eyes around the building. It didn’t take long to find that piece of shit who had dared to impose upon you. He was still close to the building, kicking over some boxes in an alleyway. Robin couldn’t hear what was being said, but with how much his lips were flapping she doubted it was anything she wanted to be aware of.

It would seem his little temper tantrum wore him out. He leaned against the wall of the building, running a hand through his hair as his chest heaved from anger and exertion. A smirk tugged at Robin’s lips when the man began to panic as several arms came out of the wall and grabbed him. A hand clamped over his mouth to keep him from calling for help as two more hands gripped his head. 

A satisfying snap could be felt as she violently twisted his head to one side. He fell limp to the filthy ground of the alley like the despicable trash he was. Robin pulled a tarp over him so as to avoid you potentially spotting him on the way back to the Thousand Sunny. It would be a shame to upset you when you were having such a nice day together up to this point.

Content that the problem was taken care of, Robin dismissed her extra appendages and refocused on the present. You were casually sipping from your drink while turning the page of your book, not having an inkling as to what just transpired outside.

Robin smiled, then properly began reading her own. Today was just perfect.

[besiegedhunter]

So I've thought this since Il Siracusano came out but only today looked into it but know how mysterious Red's situation i.e. being a wolf hunter, has been? How in universe even Kal'tsit, the most knowledgeable person on Terra, didn't even know?

Yeah well odds are that all this time Texas has known that Red was the Fang of a Signori and it's been implied since the game's launch through her voiceline about Red:

It's vague and a case could be made that she's not referring to Red being a Fang however look at IS-ST-1, the first story node of Il Siracusano:

Signore dei Lupi was not mentioned verbally before this. The last time her and Zaaro met was seven years ago after the Texas family purge. The only Siracusan she's really had much interactions with since is Lappland whose implied to not know them.

Zaaro does mention Fangs first but he doesn't explain what a Fang is to Texas, likely implying she knows already and when we learn what Fangs are it's through Zaaro beaming the explanation into Vigil's mind:

So it'd be really easy for him to do so to Texas as well presumably.

So she's known about the Signori and probably their Fangs and their game, assumedly ever since she first met Zaaro seven years before Il Siracusano, so 1092. She would have all this information on hand when she joins Rhodes sometime after 1094 and learns of Red and probably puts two and two together that she is a Fang.

Also it's interesting to me that she knows about all of this and can tell that Red isn't evil but still steers clear of her. Reasons could range from "well she doesn't know her so why personally involve herself with her" to anything like knowing the Signori are immortal and can't be beaten or the Fangs are integrally tied to Siracusa so she doesn't want to be involved.

I think it's interesting and sad at the same time that Texas is one of the two characters Red is attracted to wants to interact with but avoids her while knowing her situation.

Maybe we'll see something with themin the future. They are both in the same storyline and I think it's only fair to see Red interacting more with Lupos once this storyline is wrapped up and while Provence is my main pick, Texas would be good too.

[bonefall]

maybe with the ending.. make it be like the link between Breezepelt's leaving to join Kin and his POV in AVOS? of course from Nightcloud's perspective but

like. she would be injured and recovering away from the clan. but they would be unaware that she is alive and like in canon assume she died and hold her a vigil. Breezepelt, who is already at low point, taking it very badly - yes he was pushing her away bc he was hurt and angry and started taking it out on her, but.. it's still his mom. his Mi. and she is dead? or is this stupid clan just going to believe this to make it easier? are they really giving up on looking for her, or her body??

i can see Nightcloud being the one of very few, if not THE Only one, things that kept Breezepelt in WindClan at this point. and without her, what's the point? it's not like anyone else likes him. the link is gone and they buried it in a bodyless vigil. so it's what pushes him to actuall take the step and leave.

not sure how well it would align with the timeline and events. and how soon Darktail was assembling cats from other clans like Breeze. but i think it would be interesting and heartbreaking if at the end of her SE, Nightcloud just arrived back to WindClan and asks where Breezepelt is and someone tells her.. he either was missing since this morning or just left the clan earlier the same day. like, just have them miss each other by a hair.

I'm thinking that the second-to-last chapter is her with Pickle, having a bit of a sabbatical to unpack everything that happens through the story. Mostly because I want to throw her into some kind of pretty garden as a nice setting for this lmaoo

A LOT of BB stuff is being added to Nightcloud's Pannage that wasn't in the main series; Hillrunner's abuse, her mentor Addersong, several expanded little background characters now complete with their own side conflicts. I think what I can bind all these things with is Nightcloud considering what a Clan means.

Because of her new reputation, I'm noticing I'm writing scenes where she's intentionally doing and saying things to try and sway them. While also grappling with her resentment towards them, and things she can't change.

There's a bit of a melancholy air so far, so I'm starting to feel like the best ending is just having a bit of space to herself to think. Ultimately, she decides that it's more than Breezepelt or Crowfeather that binds her to WindClan. It's the life and connections she COULD have.

WindClan cats are also quite religious next to other Clans, so I really do mean "sabbatical." I'm going to have Addersong die of old age shortly after they reconnect, so she's in Pickle's Garden talking to her new friend, choosing cats she's lost to pray to as patron spirits to give her the traits she feels she needs, and just recovering both physically from injury and spiritually from turmoil.

So all that to say; it works well that by the time she gets back, Breezepelt has joined The Kin. He was one of the first to join when he started calling for members anyway, so having Night be gone for about two or three weeks sounds appropriate.

[freakartack]

hmmmm any volt head canons

VOLTAGE TIME ok so obligatory Papa Volt retread just to get him out of the way. OK now that Papa Volt is done let's move on to the other guys.

18-Volt

-Doing him first because he's my favorite. Anyways 18-volt is an awesome kid because

-Like most other children in Warioware, he has kind of a lonely family situation. He's only ever talked about his mom, who is away a lot as he is able to play video games late into the night unsupervised (unlike the ever-vigilant 9-volt). So it seems like he is kind of a latchkey kid most of the time.

-As a result, he ends up sleeping over 9-volt's house a lot, and he's also kind of glommed onto 5-volt as a friend to boot ("Hi 9-Volt's Mom"). They both canonically have a passion for gardening, so I can imagine they bond over that and she gives him gardening advice and whatnot. Maybe if NINE VOLT wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty he could join in the fun but alas

-Because of his growth condition, he's gotten a lot of shit in school in the past. As such, he is extremely quick to come to the defense of kids in need; he stood up to 13-amp when she was picking on ralphie, and then extended an olive branch to 13-amp when he realized she was just a troubled kid. This also mirrors how 9-volt befriended 18-volt when no one else would, so it is kind of beautiful in this way. These are some stand-up kids!

-Is way less adventurous than 9-Volt; he went skateboarding with him exactly once and hated it

-Mains Captain Falcon in smash and says "FALCON PUNCH" out loud

5-Volt

-I love that her character card in g&w says "age unknown" and then immediately tells you that she grew up in the 80s

-I also think that the rest of her wardrobe was similarly radical. I've been meaning to draw Young 5-Volt for a while so you might see her soon

-Was the apex predator of her local arcade back in the day

-Contrary to her moveset in Get It Together!, I don't think she has any supernatural powers beyond being scary as fuck. Pay no attention to the woman behind the TV

-Mains ROB in smash and kills people with him in real life

9-Volt

-The entirety of his retro game collection was inherited from his mother; he doesn't know what eBay is

-Has grown his adult front teeth in since Mega Microgames

-Has said "FIRE" so many times that orbulon accidentally picked up on it in smooth moves

-Mains Pikachu in smash and spams down+B the whole match

Fronk

-Unlike Orbulon and the space hares, I can't even begin to speculate on what the fuck he is. I think he has an exoskeleton. I think he is ovoviviparous. I think his distant ancestors were from space and he comes from a long line of rapidly-reproducing alien animals that somehow gained sapience along the way. It is extremely hard to keep up with Fronk Lore because they are constantly dropping bombshells. Do you know he has a wife and kid

-Mains Marth

[cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu]

The story of how Mordred called Merlin mom and then proceeded to call Arthur dad and now he's adopted into the family

Author: Me aka @dalazygamerneko

Inspired by @tongjaitongjai merthur idea, check out it out here: 🐓x🐦=🐣

♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤•°•♡•°•♤

It was ordinary day. Birds were singing, training went well and the maids were busy but happily chatting.

Nothing could go wrong Mordred thought as he made his way to the afternoon roundtable meeting when he came across Merlin or Emrys as he is known amongst druids, quickly he hid into an alcove and gazed in envy at Lord Emrys, no, Merlin smiling and holding a little boy in his arms.

It's moments like these that he wished he knew his mother longer but he could barely remember her. He watched quietly at the soft look in Merlin's eyes and utter joy upon the little boy's face as they hugged each other, Mordred wondered if his mother would've looked at him the same way Merlin did.

He sighed, leaning back against the stone walls Mordred couldn't help but want to revert back into being a child again just so Merlin wouldn't gaze coldly at him, albeit he probably deserved it for the words of hatred he said in his youth. He knew now Merlin never meant to lead those knights towards his camp. That the warlock was only trying to help Morgana.

"What can I do to earn your trust?"

Mordred shook his head, he'd think of something maybe ask one of the knights for help? He's noticed that Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine are closer to Merlin than the other knights.

'They're also the most protective of him' Mordred thought dryly, a crease upon his brow as multiple ideas popped into his mind and many he shot down knowing it won't work.

"Well, I'll just have to hope the triple Goddess guides me." Mordred mumbled, he looked out into the hallway, Merlin was gone, most likely doing chores for the King.

Mordred chuckled as he continued walking, he would never understand the relationship Emrys and the once and future King had with each other. There were times they seem like close comrades begrudging in their respect for one another and then other times they would argue fondly like any old married couple.

Not surprising when plenty of townsfolk as well as even the nobles have speculated in the past if Merlin was being courted by Prince Arthur, to any outsider it certainly looked that way therefore Merlin was given the "mistress" treatment.

Now everyone are wondering(more like waiting impatiently) when will the King announce his engagement to Merlin.

"If I remember correctly, doesn't Sir Gwaine have a bet going on?"

Mordred pondered. 'Yeah, I'll definitely join in. There's no way they're NOT together. I mean, I've seen the lingering stares they give each other as if there is no one around them.'

Soon he was at the doors leading to the roundtable meeting, nodding at the vigilant guards they let him through. His eyes slowly moved over the knights, nobles and some commoners before landing on Merlin who was standing behind the King's chair.

An unassuming figure, most often underestimated but to those who know magic deeply or follow the old religion, Emrys entire being is a vast ocean of wild magic swirling in such a magnitude that no mere mortal could ever understand or harness the power Emrys wields.

Then he locked eyes with Merlin, there is no icy stare thankfully, yet he can still see a hint of wariness in his Lord's gaze.

He bowed his head in acknowledgement before finding a seat next to the gossiping pair Sir Percival and Sir Gwaine.

"I could be at a tavern right now, drinking and charming the barmaid Stella instead I'm stuck here." Gwaine said with a miffed face, his hand gripping the air imagining he was holding a mug of ale.

Elyan who sat across from Gwaine raised an eyebrow, "Isn't Stella old enough to be your grandmother?"

Gwaine smirked whilst shrugging. "Just like wine the older one gets the finer they become, besides she has experience, I'm sure there's a thing or two she could still teach mmph—"

Leon had reached over to clamp Gwaine's mouth shut.

The ginger haired knight had just about enough of hearing Gwaine's tavern tales of debauchery to which he thought was an inappropriate topic to be discussed or heard at the roundtable meeting.

"Sir Gwaine, leave your nightly talks at the tavern only, please."

Gwaine pulled Leon's hand away and smiled cheekily at the older knight.

"Oh, but wouldn't you like to know? Stella has mentioned she likes ginger haired men with beards and I bet she could show you—"

"I am going to strangle you—"

Gwaine leaned back avoiding Leon's hands from trying to keep him quiet again.

"Sir Leon I never knew you were this kinky, I think dear old Stella would like to feel your big strong hands—ack!"

Leon finally got him, unfortunately the meeting was starting, so Gwaine was safe from being throttled by him. However, tomorrow morning during training he'll get his chance.

Mordred along with the rest of the knights chuckled at Sir Gwaine's antics and Sir Leon's annoyed expression.

♤To be continued♤

[ariadneamare]

Levihan beach fluff pls I beg u

i know i have been inactive for so long but here i am reviving this account !

notes: beach fluff, if u know me i am not good at writing fluff (maybe) i was born for angst (definitely)

Levi and Hanji strolled along the sunlit shoreline, the sand warm beneath their feet. Levi carried a large beach umbrella, determined to create a perfect shade spot despite Hanji's insistence that it wasn't necessary. Hanji, in her beachwear, seemed to radiate joy, contrasting sharply with Levi’s focused demeanor.

"Levi, you’re going to put that thing up all wrong if you keep adjusting it like that," Hanji teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Just plop it down! It's a beach umbrella!"

Levi grumbled but didn't relent. "I just want to make sure everything is perfect. Last time you got sunburned, remember? I had to apply milk all over your face, you know how disgusting that is?"

Hanji waved him off, chuckling as she set up their beach towels. "You're such a clean freak," she teased, "Lucky I like you too much. You need to loosen up and enjoy yourself."

As they settled in, Levi kept a vigilant eye on Hanji, scanning for any signs of danger.

Hanji grabs the sunscreen from the bag and starts pouring too much on her palm. Just watching made Levi really anxious.

"Let me do that," he butts in.

"No, let me."

"Hand me the bottle, four eyes."

Hanji blows a raspberry towards his direction and lets out a loud laugh. Butterflies fly around his stomach as the echoes of her laughter fill his ears. He grabs the bottle and she lets him.

"Hold still," he ordered, rubbing sunscreen onto her back with meticulous care.

Hanji giggled, trying to stifle her laughter. "You’re making it sound like I’m about to go into battle, not into the water. It’s just sunscreen, Levi."

Levi’s expression softened slightly, though he continued to frown. "I know, but I’d rather be safe than sorry."

With everything in place, Hanji finally managed to drag Levi toward the water. She playfully splashed him, laughing as he tried to avoid the waves. Levi's stern demeanor cracked as he watched her enjoyment, a smile tugging at his lips despite his best efforts to remain stoic.

"Alright, alright, you win," he said, shaking his head with a reluctant grin. "But stay where I can see you. I don’t want you getting into any trouble."

Hanji rolled her eyes, but her smile was warm. "Deal. Now come on, let’s have some fun."

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and playful banter. Levi tried to keep his usual distance but couldn’t help joining in the fun, his earlier worry gradually melting away. Hanji’s happiness was infectious, and Levi found himself enjoying the rare, carefree moments.

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the beach, Levi and Hanji sat side by side on their towels, watching the waves. Hanji leaned against Levi, her laughter still echoing in his ears.

"You know," Hanji said softly, "you’re pretty good at this beach thing after all."

Levi glanced at her, a rare tenderness in his eyes. "Just don’t make it a habit of dragging me to places like this too often."

Hanji laughed, resting her head on his shoulder. "I wouldn’t dream of it. But maybe once in a while wouldn’t hurt. Especially if it means I get to see you like this."

Levi’s gaze remained on the horizon, a content smile on his face as he let the peaceful moment envelop him. For once, he allowed himself to fully indulge in the joy of the day, knowing he’d cherish this light-hearted escape from his usual responsibilities.

[bandnerdlevel43]

Ravioli Week, Day Two- Tender Care (Sickfic, sequel to Day One)

Lu Legend x Ravio (Ravioli)

Summary: After a failed attempt to save Rulie, Hilda led Ravio and the others into hiding with nothing but a sick and injured Legend to show for their efforts. Everyone’s taking it badly- even Ravio, who’s Link is the only one free from the Shadow’s clutches, is unable to leave Legend’s side.

Word Count: 1,913

Warnings: Nothing major. Legend suffers the aftereffects of his time in Dink Jail, Ravio and Shadow are a little sad, Hilda is tired of Everything, mosty light angst with fluff at the end

A/N: I’m apologizing profusely yet again for being super late. In my defense, I hit a massive writer’s block after day one, and school has been the worst lately. At the same time, I didn’t want to quit Ravioli Week after being committed to it for so long, and this is the result. This was written in the midst of my dry spell, so it was mostly a sort of “practice run” with the focus on how each character bounces off of one another. I’ll be back to writing regularly (and maybe with better quality?) now that my braincells are working and school is over. Thank you so much!

----

“How is he?” Hilda asked.

Ravio blinked up at the Queen of Lorule from his spot beside Legend. Her hair was in a loose ponytail- he'd forgotten to help her braid it- and her makeup was minimal. It had been, ever since the rescue. Ravio couldn't judge. She had been preoccupied with other matters.

“His fever is getting worse,” he mumbled, softly running his fingers through the sleeping hero's hair. “His wounds haven't healed, and he's been coughing his throat raw.”

Hilda exhaled deeply. She sat beside him, joining him in his quiet vigil. “Is there anything I can get you?” she asked intently.

“Saria's taking care of it,” he said.

“I'm talking about you, Ravio, not him.”

Ravio hesitated. He looked away and shook his head. 

She laid a hand on his shoulder, and Ravio lifted his gaze to meet her eyes. They were tired, likely from the strain of holding the group together. She really shouldn't be worrying about him, of all people. She knew he could take care of himself. Still, she continued. “Ravio, you haven't slept in days,” she hissed under her breath. “You haven't eaten, either. What's going on?”

Ravio flinched and chewed the inside of his cheek. “I-I'm sorry, I just-” he stammered. “I've- well, I've been worried, see, and I just haven't found the time-”

Legend shifted and grunted in his sleep. Ravio froze with his mouth open. He snapped it closed and frowned, pausing for a long moment.

“Never mind,” Hilda muttered. “Just… promise you'll eat your food and get some sleep.”

Ravio nodded absently and narrowed his eyes at the rise and fall of Legend's chest, his ears flicking in amusement.

Hilda sighed impatiently and stood, walking away with her cape snapping in the air. He felt a prick of guilt in his heart for ignoring her, but it wasn't long before it was swiftly packed away into the neat little box in the back of his head where he hid the rest of his cares and worries. He was always left with some form of sorrow or another whenever he did that, as if his mind was lamenting the passing of his own emotions.

What a silly thought.

“Hmm… Were you eavesdropping on our conversation?” Ravio asked the trees. He chuckled. “For shame, Mister Hero.”

Silence. 

“Did you hear something you liked?” he went on, his tone light. “Or did you notice the irony in her request? One of the two, if not both, I assume.”

My, the crickets sound rather beautiful tonight.

“Bold. But justified, probably,” he reasoned. “And it's so very Hilda of her.”

“It's because she cares about you.”

One of the shadows flickered, and a blood red eye stared at him from amidst the gloom. “Idiot,” its owner added.

Ravio smiled. “Shadow. I should've guessed Hilda wasn't the only one in character today.”

“What does that mean?”

“Meaning I expected Mister Hero- who is currently faking sleep- to answer.” He shrugged. “I suppose finding another nosy hero in the bushes should've been expected as well.”

Shadow emerged from his namesake with folded arms. “Very clever.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Legend grumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Look, you're both very witty, but I'd bet each rupee in Ravio's pockets right now that Saria can hear every word you two are saying.”

Shadow snorted. “Doesn't matter. She'd know what our breath smelled like without even getting close.”

“It is somewhat of an inevitability,” Ravio conceded, “even if that is an absolutely horrible metaphor.”

“The kid knows things,” Shadow said, ignoring him. “You'll just have to get used to it, Blondie.”

It was almost funny how quickly Legend's expression went sour. Ravio had to give him a stern look to keep him from saying something insulting.

On the other hand, Shadow didn't show any signs of pleasure at successfully annoying him. His cap, which was normally very expressive, didn't curl or even twitch. Instead, it hung limply from his head. He must've been more depressed than he thought, Ravio realized with a pang.

“Look, Shadow, I’m-” Ravio started.

“Don't apologize,” he interrupted sharply. “I didn't come here to talk about myself. Or you, for the matter.”

Ravio wrinkled his nose, taken aback. “Care to tell us what you did come here to talk about?”

“Nothing,” the darkling responded curtly. He reached into the shadows and said, “Frankly, I'd rather not be here at all. But Saria and Aurora send their best wishes, and I'm the poor guy who has to bring ‘em.”

With that, he gifted Ravio a rag, a canteen, and a bottle filled with a shimmering gold-colored elixir. Ravio accepted them, dipping his head towards Shadow. Thank them for me, would you?” he said.

Shadow's only answer was a flick of his cap as he turned and let himself be swallowed by darkness. He left behind a lingering sense of melancholy.

Legend seemed to sense it, too. “Just like him to dampen the mood and leave,” he muttered.

Ravio winced and pointed out, “That's not really fair.” He's suffering, just like the rest of us.

When he didn't respond, Ravio shook his head and placed his hand over the other's heart. “You need to rest,” he said gently. “Here, drink this.”

He placed the bottle of elixir that Saria had cooked up for him in his hand. Legend cast it a suspicious glance before uncorking and downing it in one go. He grimaced as it went down.

“Water?” Ravio offered.

Legend shook his head.

“Take some anyway,” he insisted.

Legend scoffed, but grabbed the canteen and took a long drink. “Anything else you want me to inhale?” he asked sarcastically.

“Nothing else,” Ravio answered simply.

“Good, ‘cause I-”

Suddenly, yet another coughing fit struck, this one particularly nasty. His throat must be so raw by now, after having this sickness tear at him for so long. Ravio wrung his hands anxiously as he worked through it. There wasn't anything he could do, and he had always hated hearing it.

Luckily, it didn't take long for the coughing to abate. Legend groaned weakly. Ravio found himself shifting closer and allowing the frail hero to lean on him.

“Are you alright?” he asked nervously.

“I'm fine, Rav, stop worrying about me,” he rasped. He pursed his torn and bitten lips and reached again for the water. 

“Can I get you something to eat?”

“Ravio, really.”

Ravio bit his tongue. He couldn't help it! He was so worried- terrified, even- that his lover would do something rash to prove he was strong, or something noble and courageous like that. Heroes were prone to being stubborn idiots and getting themselves hurt because of it. Besides, fretting over these stupid heroes was one of the few things he was actually good at.

“Could you at least try to sleep for a couple more hours?” Ravio persisted. 

Legend scowled. “Sleep is all I've been doing. Sleep during the day, sleep during the night, take an elixir, repeat.” He clenched his fists. “It's driving me insane. I want to do something, Rav.”

Ravio understood, he truly did. He just wished he'd stop being so obstinate about it. “If I take you for a walk after, would you do it?” he suggested.

Legend hesitated. He mulled that over in that frustratingly beautiful head of his, pretending not to care too much, but Ravio had seen how his ears had perked at the idea. He wasn't too surprised when Legend nodded.

Ravio wasted no time in gently pushing him back down into his bedroll and tucking him into his blankets. He doused the rag that Shadow had given him in water and wrung it out so it wasn't soggy. He placed the damp cloth on Legend's forehead. He didn't miss the tiny sigh of relief that slipped from his lips as it made contact with his burning skin. 

“Hilda’s right, you know,” Legend said abruptly. “You shouldn't be starving yourself for my sake. Or keeping yourself awake all night.”

Ravio stiffened. Lolia! Why was everyone worried about him? Would he never escape?

“And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call irony,” announced a tiny Shadow in his head. He metaphorically swatted it away.

“I'm not going to explode if you get a snack or something,” Legend informed him.

Ravio shot him a flat look. “Thanks,” he remarked. “I feel better already.”

“Ravio, I mean it.”

“You're being just as sarcastic, Mister Hero.”

“Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I am not!”

“I already know you're not going to explode. That's sarcasm, Link.”

Legend rolled his eyes. “Fine. But if you don't take care of yourself, I'll make you,” he warned.

“Oh?” Ravio raised a brow. “And how will you do that?”

Legend smirked. With a devious glint in his eye eerily similar to Tetra’s own, he pounced. Ravio yelped as he was tackled from his seat and wrestled into the hero's bedding. He strained to free himself, but to no avail. He was startlingly strong, even when sick! 

“Link, you're contagious!” he gasped.

“Should've thought about that during dinner last night,” he growled teasingly.

“How was I supposed to kn- ACK!”

Ravio let out an involuntary and extremely undignified squeak as Legend poked a finger into his side. Sensing weakness, Legend continued to prod him mercilessly. Ravio squealed and squirmed but Legend refused to relent. 

“Link! Stop it!” he giggled uncontrollably. “Let me go!”

Legend laughed at him! The audacity of that Hylian! He had half a mind to whack him with his own pillow.

“Okay, okay, I get it!” he panted. “I'll do it, just let me go!”

Legend let him wriggle free and stumble to his feet, grinning mischievously up at him. Ravio's face was red, but he tried to hide his embarrassment by pretending to dust off his robes.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Mister Hero had the gall to say. “I'm sure Saria has something you can eat.”

Oh, Goddess, Saria! She had heard everything, hadn't she? Ravio groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“If you-” Legend began.

“Not a word out of you, Mister Hero,” Ravio chided. “You resorted to tickling to coerce me. How low the Hero of Legend has sunk!”

“Stop being dramatic,” he chuckled. “Now, scram. Eat some bread or something.”

“I'll have you know,” Ravio sniffed. “I am being as dramatic as the situation calls for.”

“Hey, I told you to get lost, didn't I? Go on, now. Shoo.” Legend waved his hands at him.

Ravio stuck his tongue out at him like they had when they were kids, bickering over trivial, meaningless things like the price of a hookshot or where to put Sheerow’s cage. It was almost unbelievable how dramatically things had evolved since then, yet some things were as familiar as ever. Goddess, he loved that man, even when he acted like a constipated raccoon with cacti for droppings. Maybe that's where he found the patience to turn around, approach Saria, and ask for one of the pastries she loves making. Her overjoyed expression almost made it worth the mortification of being teased about his husband.

When he returned, Legend was nestled in his blankets, curled into himself and snoring softly. Ravio found himself smiling as he brushed his pink-tinted locks from his lover's face.

He decided to eat the pastry. Legend deserved some sleep untormented by thoughts involving Ravio's own self-care.

It was the sweetest he'd had in a long time.

[spandexinspace]

Davrin talks to Evka and Antoine before deciding that accepting gingerwort tea from strange mages hopefully not lying in ponds is a good idea.

__________________________________

Despite the lack of a familial relationship and seniority, Davrin can't help but feel like a man going back home to visit his parents when he steps out of the eluvian into the cold Hossberg Wetlands, which as far as sentiments goes is one he knows to under no circumstances bring up in front of Evka, lest she prove him all too right. Still, there is something truly admirable about their stability and leadership amidst all of what the Wardens have been reduced to. Many more great Wardens would be lost without them. 

The rundown fortress the Wardens have made their temporary home smells like blight. It's rotten and acrid, the organic smell of frigid swamp water crossed with something not quite of this world. It clings to his sinuses and clothes and stays with him until well after he’s left the wetlands behind, like the sickly grey film the water leaves behind on his boots. Davrin rarely minds the cold, but the wet chill of Hossberg leaves even him longing for a good campfire and an itchy, moth-eaten wool blanket.

As he makes his way through the mess of injured and exhausted Wardens, huddled together in shades of grey and blue surrounded by whatever equipment and personal belongings they managed to scavenge from Weisshaupt, his heart sinks in his chest. They talk in hushed whispers, some coughing wetly or wheezing like they’re already well beyond help. Few bother to look up at him. He knew it was bad, of course he did, but there’s a world of difference between seeing the direct aftermath of it, hearing about it in sparse letters and seeing it with his own two eyes. The order is in shambles. Sick and suffering, surrounded by blight on all sides, singing at the back of his mind. He’d heard plenty of stories about the fifth blight when he first joined, how everything had seemed hopeless then, but it’s hard to imagine that it was ever this bad. The order had recovered then, but he can barely imagine how they’ll do it again. If they’ll even survive that long.

As such, it’s with a heavy heart and a worried mind he enters the inner sanctum of the fortress. Which is perhaps best described less of a sanctum and more as a slightly less open space than the rest of it, with enough walls left standing to almost block out some of the outside chill. Or it would have, were it not for the way Antoine’s macabre blight display dominates the central table, pulsating in their jars like something that should have been put to death a long time ago. Their mere presence is enough to keep the room from ever feeling warm. He’s seen them before, but they appear to have grown in number and size since he last saw them and now make him feel even less at ease. Sometimes he swears they have eyes. Sometimes he swears they look at him.

“Evka,” he says. She turns from the table to face him, vigilance in her movement. "How are you holding up?" On the other side of the table Antoine looks up too, while two other Wardens make themselves scarce, perhaps thankful for the opportunity to escape from the museum of unknown blight horrors.

"Hi, Davrin. We're doing alright," she replies, her voice warm and even despite everything. "We’re still getting settled in, but things are starting to calm down. You and your team were a great help in making sure we even got this far; I can't imagine there'd be much of an order left without you."

Davrin sighs, scratching the back of his neck. "That’s good, at least, though things don’t look great out there. We could have done more. Maybe if I'd been there to talk to the First Warden when Rook first met him..." 

"Then perhaps you could have let him make acquaintanceship with the floor earlier?" Antoine asks. "We sent many letter to the First Warden. It seems reason was far beyond him even then."

“He never seemed the type to act like that, but I can’t imagine going through the calling right now would make a man’s life any easier. Who even knows what that’s like.”

Behind the table Antoine squirms, uneasily moving from one foot to the other.

“I’m sure it couldn’t have been easy, but as a Warden he should have known better. What he did remains inexcusable,” Evka says.

"Of course, I just wish we’d been able to aid him.”

“We all do.”

Davrin rubs the bridge of his nose, tries to block out the all too vivid memory of the First Warden. The way he twisted and deformed, bones and muscles and armour snapping loudly under Ghilan'nain’s thrall, turning black with something that was neither ichor nor blood. Grey Wardens don’t have happy endings, but he can imagine few worse than that.

“How about you two, are you doing OK?” he asks, wanting for any distraction but that. “It's one hell of a way to get promoted, I'm not sure I'd wish that on anyone either.”

"We're fine,” Evka says, turning to meet Antoine’s gaze for a second. “We have each other, and most of the remaining Wardens have no desire to vie for leadership right now. I’m sure some of them will grow restless once things start to settle down and they have time to think about politics again, but there’s no saying when that’ll be. For now the order needs to survive, and we know survival.”

"It's mostly Evka's doing, of course. She's never seen a crisis she wouldn't rise to." Davrin isn't sure Antoine ever stops looking at her like she's the centre of the universe, but the look he gives her then seems particularly infatuated. Evka in turn huffs, though with little annoyance. “But don’t worry about us, surely you have your own troubles.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve been trying to track down the griffins and that Gloom Howler. I asked Harding and Neve to check in with their contacts without revealing too much, but they haven’t heard back from any of them. Even Lucanis offered to help out, though I doubt the Crows know much about any of that.”

Antoine rounds the table to come to stand next to Evka. Away from the sick, dull glow of the jars Davrin can see the dark rings under his eyes and the strain in his expression. Not the strain of unfriendliness, but of something else. Stress, perhaps, or worse. “Neither have we. We have sent word to anyone who will have it, but time will have to tell if and when they can get back to us,” he says.

“I’ll keep looking for it then.”

“Ah, but you shouldn’t forget to take some time for yourself as well.”

"The Gloom Howler is still out there." 

"And you plan on waltzing around the swamps until you find it? Show up to its lair with bog foot, yes?" Antoine asks, smiling at Davrin now in a way that doesn’t quite seem to reach his wide eyes. There is truth to that, to the foolishness of setting off into the swamps armed only with their total lack of leads and inability to even think of the idea of a plan, but that offers him little comfort. He yearns to do something, not to sit on his hands until they rot off.

"I'll figure something out,” Davrin says, teeth clenched.

"Or, you think about it, we think about it and we'll contact you when we actually have a real lead," Evka interjects. “Make time for yourself, try to recuperate so that you’ll be ready when it actually counts. You’re of no use to anyone if you run yourself ragged over nothing.”

“Oui. Try to bond with Assan, if nothing else. You’ll need that bond when you face the Gloom Howler.”

“He’s with me whenever we’re out.”

“But you’re always fighting, no? Surely he craves more variety than that, something more personal. And perhaps there are others who do too?”

“Others?” Davrin asks, furrowing his brow and crossing his arms.

“One other, specifically, I suppose,” Antoine says, undeterred. "It's important to not neglect those bonds. You never know what might happen out there, so you should make sure to act before it does. It would be a waste to miss out on something enjoyable because an ogre got to you before you thought to mention it.”

Evka shoots Antoine a particularly poignant look. “Just take care of yourself, we’re far from safe yet.”

"Fine, will you two get off my case if I go do something relaxing?" Davrin asks. 

"Perhaps for the time being,” Antoine says. Davrin contemplates bringing up the parenting comparison after all. Maybe that—if nothing else—would dissuade them.

"We have to look out for the order, Davrin," Evka adds. "If there ever was a time to lose people to the strain of overwork, it's not now." 

“And if we lose the griffins? Again?”

“Then it won’t be because you didn’t look hard enough, trust me. No one cares more for them than you do, but sometimes caring just isn’t enough.” Evka turns her back towards him then, to gaze out over the collection of jars. If he listens closely he can hear them sing. ”Unless we get a handle on this we won’t even be able to worry about things like that soon.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Antoine says, voice lower than before. For the first time since Davrin stepped foot in the room his expression seems to falter, turning to worry as he puts a hand on Ekva’s shoulder. “We always do.”

She sighs and rubs her temples. “We’ll have to. Davrin, please go take care of yourself and Assan. We will reach out as soon as we hear anything new about the griffins or the Gloom Howler. Give Rook our regards and further thanks.”

“I will. Thank you, First Wardens.”

Antoine laughs, though there’s still worry in his expression. “By the stone,” Evka sighs, shaking her head, smiling just a little despite herself.

As Davrin retreats back out between the crumbling walls and into the more open part of the fortress Assan lands next to him like a particularly loud shadow, his claws clicking against the worn stone. 

“Would you like to go back to Arlathan, boy?” he asks, ruffling the griffon’s feathery head with one hand. Assan squawks in a way that definitely could be a yes. Or a bid for more food.

[nabateaprodigy]

This is probably the weirdest request ever but can I request Mukuro, Junko, Komaru, and Sonia with a s/o that turned into a marketable plushy? I don't mean someone made a plushy of them I mean they were transformed into it. I had a nightmare where that happened to me and for some reason, it was the worst thing I've ever dreamt.

Please Don't Turn Me Into a Marketable Plushy!

Series: Danganronpa.

Characters: Mukuro, Junko, Komaru, and Sonia.

Genre: Fluff/Crack.

Reader: Gender Neutral.

Notes: I'm a person who doesn't dream much but even when I do it's usually a nightmare. But this is ridiculous! But like so funny at the same time! But bestie what's going on to be having dreams like this? 😭

Mukuro

Quite it had been suspicious quite as of late Mukuro had noticed. By now she would have expected you to be by her side. At first she was worried very worried that something could have happened to you.

She knew you could handle yourself but even still she was still worried. The feelings of worry would hold merit in time. As the school day had ended and Mukuro had not seen you she decided to check up on you herself.

Mukuro had texted you multiple times throughout the day and had gotten no reply. Strange as you would always reply to her as quickly as you could. This didn't cause her to panic as there are many suitable reasons why you wouldn't text her throughout the day.

Soon Mukuro had made it to your home and let herself in with the spare key that you had given her. Stepping into your home she called out for you. "S/O?" No response.

She made her up to your bedroom as maybe you had slept in or were sick. Although nothing could have prepared her for what she was about to see. "S/O? Are you in there? I'm coming in." Mukuro spoke as she opened the door to your bedroom.

"Mukuro! Help me!" A voice could be heard in the room it took a second to register. But Mukuro was able to pinpoint the voice with her vigilant eyes.

She looked at the desk in your and a plushy could be seen. No wait a plushy of you surely. However, as she moved closer it became clear that the plushy was indeed you.

"S/O? Is that you? What happened to you?" Mukuro questioned as kneeled to get a closer look at you. "I'm not sure! I just woke up like this! I tried to call and text you but I can't do anything as a plushy!" You spoke jumping up and down your arms flapping up and down like a bird's wings.

"..." Mukuro was speechless I mean who wouldn't be?!? What are you supposed to do let alone say something about this?

After regaining her composer Mukuro picked you put and put you in her blazer pocket. "I'll take care of you for now let's wait until tomorrow to see if you return to normal. If not then we can ask one of the Ultimates for help." Mukuro spoke as a smile grew on your face.

Finally, this will be a great way to see your girlfriend in action as she practices her skills as an Ultimate! A smile began to grow on Mukuro's face as she looked at you somehow you looked even cuter as a plushy.

Junko

You were late...very late! Where the hell were you?!? THE JUNKO ENOSHIMA! had invited YOU!

To be at a photoshoot with her and you were late nowhere to be seen. Heck, she wanted you to join her and get pictures taken! Well fine, be that she if she cares! (Honestly, I would say she does care but it's probably causing her despair by you not being there. So it's probably not affecting all that much but you never know with how unpredictable she is.)

Once this entire photoshoot was over she went to your home and DEMAND an answer! Heck! Screw the photoshoot! She needed her answers now! Confused by her outburst no one could do anything to stop her from leaving.

Loud knocks could be heard at your front door. "S/O? S/O? Open up! I know you're in there! You queen of despair demands to know why you weren't at the photoshoot!" More knocks could be heard after she spoke.

But then loud bangs could be heard from your front door. What was she...was she kicking your door down? She's insane! (Now ain't that the truth.)

She could be heard running around your look for you and possibly breaking a few things along the way. She then made her grand entrance into your room by nearly kicking the door off its hinges. "Hey! Stop it! You'll destroy my home! You've already destroyed some of it!"

A voice could be heard and Junko looked around until she saw a plushy that looked like you sitting on the table. "HAHAHAHAHA WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!?! YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS!!" Wow, how comforting...

Junko spoke as picked you by the head and placed you on top of her head like a crown. "Come on my beloved I'll show you what despair looks like firsthand!" Junko spoke dashing out of your room. Will you return to normal? Who knows...

Komaru

Komaru had spent her day drawing manga and well she lost track of time. While she was taking a break from drawing she realized she hadn't heard from you in a while! She has sent you a text. 'Hey S/O! How are you? Are you doing okay?'

She set her phone down and went back to drawing and expected a response soon. Although as more time passed a response never came. Thinking you were just busy Komaru sent another text.

Although more time has passed and Komaru still hasn't heard back from you. This caused her to worry so she decided to leave and go to your home. You had given her a spare key and let her enter your home if she ever needed anything.

"S/O?" Komaru called out to you as she entered the home closing the door behind her. She had gotten no response from you she walked looking for you. Making her way upstairs she decided to check your bedroom as you weren't anywhere on the first floor.

Komaru knocked before entering your bedroom. "S/O? Are you in there? I'm coming in." Komaru spoke as she entered your room.

"Komaru! Over here!" A voice could be heard in the room after looking around for a while Komaru was able to pinpoint where the voice had come from. It was from you or well a plushy that looked like you.

"S/O? Is that you? What happened?" Komaru spoke as she got closer to the desk you were on. "I'm not sure Komaru! I just woke up like this!"

Komaru held out her hand and you jumped onto it. "You're so cute S/O! This just gave me a great idea for a manga! Come on I'll bring you to my place so we can work on it together!"

Komaru smiled as she held you in her hands. You were so cute like this and she'd have to take pictures! But most of all she can show you how much of an amazing girlfriend she is by protecting you!

Sonia

There could only be one cause for why you were like this now. Like what exactly? Like a plushy yes that's right you awoke to find yourself now as a plushy.

You knew Sonia was good friends with Gundham but this was just ridiculous! Had something gone wrong while they were doing black magic? Or was this something that Sonia wanted to happen?

Well, you truly had no idea and could only guess and wait. Waiting was all you really could do as being plushy had its limitations. On the other hand, you looked adorable!

You can only imagine how Sonia would react to something like this. Oh well, it's not like you would mind anyway. Being cared for and adored as a plushy while your girlfriend takes care of you?

You suppose there was nothing to complain about although this waiting was killing you! Just how much longer would Sonia be? You need to be with her at once!

Click

However, it seems you were in luck as Sonia has now returned! "Sonia! Sonia! Over here!" You called out to her as you jumped to get her attention. Sonia was stunned for a moment but then recovered from her moment of shock.

"Oh my! S/O? Is that you? What happened? You are simply adorable!" Ah, there is was you expected to find you even more adorable like this. I mean you are her partner so of course you were adorable!

Sonia had moved closer to the desk that you were sitting on as a smile appeared on her face. She held out her hands and you hopped onto them as held you gently. "You are simply adorable! Come S/O I have many outfits your size! You must try them you will look wonderful!"

"But Sonia-" you had tried to ask her if you were like this because of something to do with Gundham and black magic. But Sonia had cut you off before you could finish. "Oh! I must get my camera!" Oh well, you'll deal with that later your just happy to spend time with Sonia.

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Ballad Of The Magenta Witch

After centuries of solitude and betrayal, the enigmatic and powerful sorceress Mea finds herself drawn to the war-torn lands of Paradis. With her loyal, sword-wielding companion Goldfish Levi at her side, Mea arrives in the midst of a brewing conflict between the Scouts and Marley. Her flippant demeanor and extraordinary magic disrupt the regimented lives of Eren, Levi, and the other Scouts, sparking chaos, curiosity, and alliances that none of them could have foreseen. Amidst the clashing of titans and nations, a forgotten legend breathes life into a new chapter that will shape the fate of Paradis itself. Will the Magenta Witch be a boon to their cause or a force of beautiful destruction? (Eren x OC)

Chapter Five

The days on Paradis were long and tense, filled with training, planning, and constant vigilance. The threat of Marley loomed over the Scouts like an unspoken shadow, pushing everyone to their limits. But amidst the chaos, one unexpected figure had emerged as an indispensable part of the operation: Goldfish Levi.

Initially, the Scouts had been skeptical—how could a floating, dog-sized goldfish possibly contribute to their cause? Yet, as the days passed, they found themselves eating their words. Goldfish Levi wasn’t just competent; he was exceptional.

Levi sat at his desk in his office, a small pile of paperwork in front of him. He glanced at the adjacent stack, perfectly sorted and meticulously completed. His steel-gray eyes flicked to the goldfish hovering nearby, a pen inexplicably balanced in his fins as he worked on yet another report.

“I still don’t understand how the hell you do that,” Levi muttered, his tone more begrudgingly impressed than irritated.

Goldfish Levi didn’t look up, his attention focused entirely on the paper in front of him. “It’s called being efficient,” he replied in that familiar deadpan tone. “Something you should appreciate.”

Levi’s eye twitched. “Don’t get cocky.”

“I am you,” Goldfish Levi shot back, flipping the page with a precise flick of his fin. “If I’m cocky, it’s because you’re cocky.”

Levi didn’t respond, though his faint smirk betrayed his amusement. The paperwork was flawless, the handwriting neat and precise. Despite the utter absurdity of a goldfish wielding a pen, Levi couldn’t deny the results.

Out in the training grounds, Goldfish Levi barked orders with the same sharpness and authority as his human counterpart. The Scouts moved with practiced efficiency under his watchful gaze, their respect for the fish growing each day.

“Jean, your form is sloppy!” Goldfish Levi snapped, hovering closer to the young man. “Fix your stance before I slap you.”

Jean groaned, adjusting his grip on his ODM gear. “You slap me anyway!”

“That’s because you’re consistently disappointing,” Goldfish Levi retorted, earning a few snickers from the other scouts.

Nearby, Sasha and Connie exchanged amused glances as they sprinted through their drills. “You know,” Connie panted, “he’s just as terrifying as regular Levi.”

“Maybe worse,” Sasha replied, her voice hushed. “At least with Captain Levi, you can see the punches coming.”

Goldfish Levi floated past them, his fins twitching. “Less talking, more moving, or I’ll personally add another ten laps.”

Both Scouts groaned but picked up their pace.

Later that day, Goldfish Levi joined the perimeter patrol, his keen gaze scanning the surrounding area. His efficiency was unparalleled; not a single detail escaped his notice. He floated silently, his swords strapped to his sides, ready for action.

“You’re thorough,” Jean admitted grudgingly, trailing behind him.

Goldfish Levi didn’t look back. “Of course I am. I’m Levi Ackerman.”

Jean sighed. “Yeah, yeah, we get it.”

In the strategy room, Hange, Levi, and the other scouts pored over maps and documents, discussing potential plans. Goldfish Levi hovered nearby, chiming in with insights that were alarmingly astute.

“What about this choke point here?” Hange suggested, tracing a finger along the map. “If Marley decides to launch a ground invasion—”

“They’ll likely avoid it,” Goldfish Levi interrupted, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s too obvious. They’ll take this route instead.” He gestured toward a narrow path on the map with his fin. “It’s less fortified, and they’ll assume it’s the weaker option.”

Hange’s eyes lit up, her respect for the goldfish growing by the second. “You’re brilliant!” she exclaimed, scribbling notes furiously. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re not me,” Goldfish Levi replied flatly, earning an exasperated sigh from Levi.

The greatest challenge, of course, was Mea. Her whimsical nature and penchant for chaos, and liquor, kept everyone on edge, but Goldfish Levi had no qualms about putting her in her place—literally.

One afternoon, Mea lounged on her chaise, sipping her fifth drink of the day as she lazily watched the scouts train. Goldfish Levi floated over, his fins twitching with irritation. “Mea,” he said sharply, “stop slacking and contribute for once.”

Mea looked at him over the rim of her glass, her magenta eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, Goldie, darling,” she purred. “You’re so adorable when you’re bossy.”

Goldfish Levi responded with a swift slap to the side of her head, sending her drink flying. “Enough,” he snapped. “Do something useful.”

Mea groaned dramatically, conjuring a new drink with a wave of her hand. “You’re no fun,” she muttered, but she floated toward the training grounds nonetheless, much to everyone’s relief.

Over time, even the most skeptical scouts had to admit that Goldfish Levi was invaluable. His efficiency rivaled—if not surpassed—that of his human counterpart, and his ability to multitask was nothing short of miraculous. From paperwork to strategy to keeping Mea in check, he handled it all with the same no-nonsense attitude they had come to expect from Levi.

“Honestly,” Connie whispered to Sasha one evening, “I think I like Goldfish Levi better than regular Levi.”

Sasha giggled but quickly stifled it as both Levis turned to glare at them simultaneously.

Despite the absurdity of his existence, Goldfish Levi had proven himself to be an integral part of the team, earning their respect one slap at a time. And though Levi would never admit it aloud, he was grudgingly impressed by his aquatic counterpart’s dedication and skill.

“Just don’t get any ideas about replacing me,” Levi muttered one day as he watched Goldfish Levi finalize a report.

Goldfish Levi didn’t even look up. “As if anyone could replace Levi Ackerman,” he replied. But the faint glint of amusement in his eyes suggested he knew exactly how irreplaceable he had become.

…

As the scouts wrapped up another long day of training. The air was filled with the quiet murmurs of exhaustion as they dispersed, some heading back to the barracks while others lingered on the training grounds. Eren stood off to the side, leaning against a wooden post as he watched the glow of the magenta barrier flicker faintly in the distance. His gaze drifted to Mea, who was reclining on her floating chaise with her usual drink in hand, and Goldfish Levi, hovering beside her with an exasperated look on his face.

Despite Goldfish Levi’s constant complaints and frequent slaps, it was obvious to anyone paying attention how much the two cared for each other. The way Goldfish Levi had come outside to check on Mea after Eren had asked about Jason wasn’t something that could be faked. He had been genuinely worried about her, and Eren couldn’t help but notice the sibling-like bond they shared. The two bickered constantly, but there was an underlying affection in the way they interacted.

Even now, as Goldfish Levi muttered something about Mea being "an insufferable drunk," there was no real venom in his words. Mea, for her part, rolled her eyes and waved him off, a playful smirk on her lips as she teased him in return. The dynamic was oddly heartwarming, though it baffled Eren how either of them managed to survive sharing a space every night. They clearly drove each other crazy, but it worked for them.

Eren’s thoughts were interrupted when he realized Mea had caught him staring. Her magenta eyes lit up mischievously, and before he could react, she floated off her chaise and made a beeline straight for him.

“Eren, darling,” she sang, her voice melodic as she hovered closer. Without any hesitation, she plopped herself into his lap, her magenta hair cascading around them like a curtain.

Eren stiffened, his body going rigid out of habit, but something had shifted in the past week. Ever since that night when he had apologized to Mea and she had given him advice, Eren’s perspective on her had begun to change. Beneath her whimsical, lazy exterior was someone who had lived through unimaginable pain and come out the other side with wisdom and strength. She was still a flirt, still an alcoholic, but she was more than just that.

“You’re tense,” Mea remarked, tilting her head to study him. “You know, darling, you should really learn to relax. Life’s too short for all that brooding.”

Eren let out a quiet sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “I’m fine,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

From across the training grounds, Mikasa’s sharp eyes locked onto the scene. Her frown deepened as she strode toward them, her protective instincts kicking in. “Mea,” Mikasa said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Get off of Eren.”

Mea didn’t move, instead looking at Mikasa with a mischievous smile as she leaned back against Eren’s chest. “Oh, relax, darling,” she purred. “He doesn’t mind. Do you, Eren?”

Mikasa opened her mouth to protest further, but she froze when Eren, much to everyone’s shock, spoke up. “It’s fine, Mikasa,” he said calmly. “I don’t mind.”

The rest of the scouts, who had been subtly watching from a distance, collectively froze. Mikasa’s expression was one of pure disbelief as she stared at Eren. “What?” she asked, her voice quieter but no less intense.

“I said it’s fine,” Eren repeated, his green eyes meeting Mikasa’s evenly. “She’s not hurting anyone.”

Mea couldn’t resist the opportunity. She turned to Mikasa with a childish grin, her magenta eyes sparkling with smug satisfaction. “See, darling?” she said sweetly, resting her chin on Eren’s shoulder. “Your handsome friend here doesn’t mind my company. Isn’t that right, Eren?”

Eren gave a faint huff, his cheeks reddening slightly, though he didn’t push her away. “Don’t push it,” he muttered, though there was no real heat in his voice.

Mikasa’s fists clenched at her sides, but she said nothing further, her jaw tightening as she turned and walked away. The rest of the scouts exchanged wide-eyed glances, unsure of how to process what they had just witnessed.

Jean leaned over to Connie, whispering, “Did Eren just… let her sit on him?”

Connie nodded, his expression equally baffled. “I think he did, and he actually seems okay with it this time. What the hell is happening?”

Meanwhile, Mea looked immensely pleased with herself. She leaned closer to Eren, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’re full of surprises, darling,” she said, her tone light but affectionate. “I like that about you.”

Eren shook his head, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed his flustered state. “You’re ridiculous he muttered, earning a soft laugh from Mea.

Eren couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of calm. Mea’s presence, chaotic as it was, had become something familiar—something grounding in its own bizarre way. And though he wouldn’t admit it aloud, he didn’t entirely mind having her around.

Her magenta hair shimmered under the fading sunlight, cascading over his arm like silk. For all her dramatics and whimsical behavior, she looked strangely serene, swirling the remnants of her drink in her gloved hand. It was then that something struck him—he had never seen her without those gloves.

The soft, delicate magenta fabric hugged her hands perfectly, extending just past her wrists. Even when she conjured her drinks, summoned her chaise, or wrote her glowing magical sigils in the air, the gloves were always there, a seamless part of her appearance. Eren’s curiosity, as always, got the better of him.

“Mea,” he began, his voice low but clear, “why do you always wear gloves? I’ve never seen you without them.”

Mea stilled, her drink hovering mid-air as her magenta eyes flicked up to meet his. There was a brief pause, and then she smiled—a small, knowing smile that carried a weight far beyond her usual playfulness. “Ah, darling,” she said softly, setting her drink aside. “That’s a very good question.”

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her glove as she leaned back slightly, tilting her head to study him. The scouts nearby, though pretending to mind their own business, had perked up at the question, their ears straining to catch her answer. Even Mikasa, despite her earlier irritation, stood within earshot, her sharp eyes flicking toward the pair.

“The gloves,” Mea began, her voice taking on a more thoughtful tone, “are not just a fashion statement, though I do think they’re quite fetching.” She chuckled lightly before her expression turned serious. “They’re a containment measure.”

Eren frowned, his green eyes narrowing. “Containment?”

Mea nodded, flexing her gloved fingers as if testing their strength. “You see, darling, I exude a… considerable amount of raw magic. It’s not something I can simply turn off. The gloves help keep it in check. Without them…” She paused, her gaze drifting as if remembering something. “Without them, even the smallest touch could trigger a spell.”

The scouts all exchanged uneasy glances, the weight of her words settling over them like a heavy cloud. Levi, who had been leaning against a nearby post with his arms crossed, straightened slightly, his steel-gray eyes narrowing. “What kind of spell?” he asked bluntly.

Mea turned her gaze to him, her smile faint but wry. “Oh, it could be something harmless, like temporarily changing your hair color,” she said with a shrug. “Or it could be… catastrophic.”

“How catastrophic?” Levi pressed, his tone sharp.

Mea’s eyes darkened, the playful spark in them dimming. “Imagine accidentally turning someone into a bloodthirsty dragon,” she said quietly. “Or ripping open a portal to another universe and letting… things through.”

Jean let out a nervous laugh, though it sounded more like a choked gasp. “You’re kidding, right?”

Mea glanced at him, her expression uncharacteristically serious. “Do I look like I’m kidding, darling?”

Jean quickly shut his mouth, his face paling as Sasha and Connie exchanged wide-eyed looks. Hange, of course, had already whipped out her notebook, furiously scribbling down every word Mea said.

“You’ve been alive for 4020 years,” Eren said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Does that mean you’ve been… collecting magic all this time?”

Mea tilted her head, her magenta hair spilling over her shoulder. “In a way,” she said. “Magic isn’t something you can hoard like treasure, but the longer you live, the more it builds up within you. It becomes a part of you, woven into your very essence. And after four millennia…” She gestured vaguely with her gloved hand. “Well, let’s just say there’s a lot to contain.”

Eren’s gaze dropped to her hands again, his mind racing. It was hard to imagine the sheer scale of power she was describing. He thought of the titans—their overwhelming strength, the destruction they could cause—and then tried to compare it to Mea’s magic. It was impossible to quantify, but something told him her power was on an entirely different level.

“Have you ever taken them off?” he asked.

Mea’s expression turned distant, her magenta eyes flickering with something unspoken. “Once,” she said softly. “A very long time ago. It didn’t end well.”

“What happened?” Sasha asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mea didn’t answer right away. She looked out toward the horizon, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Let’s just say it’s a mistake I won’t be repeating,” she said finally, her tone quiet but firm.

Goldfish Levi, who had been hovering nearby, floated closer, his fins twitching. “She’s downplaying it,” he said, his voice heavy with irritation. “She almost destroyed an entire country.”

The Scouts froze, their eyes darting between Mea and Goldfish Levi. “An entire… country?” Mikasa echoed, her voice laced with disbelief.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” Mea protested, though her tone lacked conviction. “It was a bad day.”

“A bad day that turned into a catastrophe,” Goldfish Levi snapped. “You were reckless.”

Mea sighed dramatically, waving him off. “Yes, yes, we’ve been over this, darling. The point is, I learned my lesson. The gloves stay on.”

Hange looked up from her notebook, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. “But if the gloves keep your magic in check, does that mean you’re not using your full potential when you cast spells?”

“Correct,” Mea replied with a nod. “What you’ve seen so far—barriers, conjurations, little fireworks—is just the tip of the iceberg. If I let my full power loose…” She trailed off, her magenta eyes narrowing. “Well, let’s hope it never comes to that.”

The room fell silent, the weight of her words settling over everyone. Even Levi seemed momentarily at a loss for words, his sharp gaze fixed on Mea as if trying to gauge just how dangerous she truly was.

Eren, however, wasn’t afraid. If anything, his curiosity only grew. He met Mea’s gaze, his expression thoughtful. “So the gloves aren’t just for containment,” he said quietly. “They’re a choice.”

Mea smiled faintly, her magenta eyes softening. “A wise observation, darling,” she said. “Yes, they’re a choice. A reminder to myself to be careful, to think before I act. Because power, as you know, comes with responsibility.”

Eren nodded slowly, her words sinking in. Mea might have been whimsical and unpredictable, but beneath it all, she carried a profound understanding of her own strength—and its consequences. It was a lesson Eren was still learning, but for the first time, he felt like he was beginning to understand.

As Mea leaned back in his lap, swirling her drink with a lazy smile, the tension in the air seemed to ease. “Now,” she said with a teasing grin, “have I satisfied your curiosity, darling? Or shall I conjure up a demonstration for you?”

Eren smirked faintly, shaking his head. “You’ve said enough.”

Mea chuckled softly, lifting her glass in a mock toast. “Good. Now, relax, handsome. You’re far too serious for someone your age.”

With a lazy flick of her wrist, she conjured a second drink, this one glowing faintly with a golden hue, and handed it to Eren. “Here, darling,” she purred, her voice lilting with amusement.

Eren hesitated, his green eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the glass. “What’s in it?” he asked, suspicion creeping into his tone.

Mea chuckled, swirling her own drink as she leaned into him. “Oh, nothing sinister, I promise,” she teased. “Just a little something to help you unwind. No one ever accused me of poisoning my admirers.”

Before Eren could respond, Mikasa’s voice cut through the air, sharp and biting. “Maybe you should flirt with someone your own age,” she snapped, her dark eyes narrowing as she glared at Mea.

Mea froze for a beat, then threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing out like bells in the stillness of the room. “Oh, Mikasa, you’re adorable,” she said, wiping a nonexistent tear from her eye. “I am my own age. I’m only 20.”

Goldfish Levi floated closer, his fins twitching as he muttered, “She’s been 20 for over 4000 years now.”

Jean bit his lip to keep from snickering, while Sasha elbowed Connie, who looked like he was about to burst.

Mea rolled her eyes dramatically, waving off Goldfish Levi’s comment. “Details, details,” she said with a playful smirk. “What do you want me to do? Flirt with someone’s grandpa? If I wanted an old fossil, I’d go after Levi.”

The scouts erupted into laughter, Jean outright doubling over while Connie slapped the table. Mikasa pressed her lips into a thin line, clearly unimpressed, while Levi glared daggers at Mea, his steel-gray eyes promising retribution.

“That’s enough,” Levi said coldly, his voice cutting through the laughter like a blade.

Mea didn’t seem fazed. If anything, his reaction only seemed to amuse her further. She leaned forward, resting her chin on Eren’s shoulder as she smirked at Levi. “Don’t look so serious, Levi darling,” she teased. “It was a compliment.”

Hange, ever the curious one, leaned closer, her notebook forgotten in her lap. “Mea,” she began, her tone thoughtful. “What’s it like being immortal? Do you ever wonder how you’d look if you aged?”

Mea tilted her head, her magenta eyes glinting with interest. “Oh, now that’s a good question,” she said, her voice carrying a note of genuine curiosity. “I have wondered, actually. And, being the resourceful sorceress that I am, I’ve used magic to find out.”

Hange’s eyes widened with excitement, and she leaned forward eagerly. “You’ve seen yourself aged? Can you show us?”

Mea grinned, her expression mischievous as she raised her hand. “Why not?” she said lightly. “Brace yourselves, darlings.”

With a theatrical wave of her hand, magenta sparks began to swirl around her, wrapping her form in a glowing cocoon of light. When the glow faded, the scouts gasped. Sitting on Eren’s lap was an elderly version of Mea, her hair now a faded pink-gray, her face lined with deep wrinkles. Her back was slightly hunched, and her once smooth hands now trembled slightly as she adjusted the shawl she had conjured around her shoulders.

“Well?” the aged Mea crooned, her voice now raspy but still carrying a hint of her signature flirtatiousness. “What do you think, darlings? Am I not the picture of grace and beauty?”

The group was dead silent for a moment before Jean burst out laughing again, unable to contain himself. Sasha hid her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with suppressed giggles. Connie, meanwhile, looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.

Eren, however, looked deeply uncomfortable. His green eyes darted anywhere but at Mea’s face, his expression a mix of disbelief and unease. “Okay, you’ve made your point,” he muttered, his voice tight. “You can change back now.”

Mea leaned closer to him, puckering her wrinkled lips as she made exaggerated kissy faces. “What’s the matter, darling?” she teased. “Am I not your type anymore?”

Eren recoiled slightly, his face flushing red as he held up his hands. “Mea, please, just change back!”

Mea threw her head back and cackled, the sound even more unsettling in her elderly form. “Oh, you’re too much fun, Eren,” she said, her voice wheezing slightly. With another wave of her hand, the magenta sparks swirled around her once more, restoring her youthful appearance in an instant.

“There,” she said, flipping her magenta hair over her shoulder as she settled back onto Eren’s lap. “Back to the flawless beauty you all adore.”

Eren exhaled in relief, slumping back against the chair. “That was… traumatizing,” he muttered, earning a fresh wave of laughter from the others.

Mea smirked, leaning closer to Eren as she twirled a strand of her hair around her finger. “Oh, darling,” she said sweetly, “you mean it was invigorating!.”

Mikasa, standing off to the side with her arms crossed, glared at the scene, clearly unimpressed. Levi, meanwhile, shook his head, muttering under his breath. “You’re all idiots,” he said flatly, though the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed his amusement.

Hange, ever the scholar, furiously jotted notes in her notebook, muttering to herself about the implications of magical aging and immortality. Despite the absurdity of the moment, the Scouts couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie—a brief reprieve from the looming weight of their mission. And in the center of it all, Mea basked in the attention, her magenta eyes sparkling with mischief and delight.

…

Levi stood leaning against the edge of a tree, his sharp gray eyes scanning the scene before him. The lively energy from Mea’s antics had spread, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, the scouts were laughing—genuinely laughing. His gaze landed on the source of the commotion: Mea, still perched comfortably on Eren’s lap as if it were her throne, her magenta hair shimmering under the warm light. She was laughing, carefree and melodious, clearly reveling in her ability to entertain and stir chaos.

But what caught Levi’s attention wasn’t Mea’s usual whimsical behavior—it was Eren.

The boy, who usually sat stone-faced, burdened by the weight of the world, was cracking a small smile. His green eyes, which were typically darkened by anger and resolve, had softened ever so slightly. It wasn’t much—a faint tug of his lips, the glint of amusement in his eyes—but to Levi, it was noticeable. It had been so long since he’d seen Eren like this, even for a moment.

As Levi continued to watch, he didn’t miss the subtle way Eren seemed to relax under Mea’s presence. The way he didn’t tense when she leaned against him, the way he didn’t shove her off his lap as he might have when she first arrived. Instead, Eren simply let her stay, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Levi’s brows furrowed slightly. That’s new, he thought, his expression tightening.

Mea’s laughter rang out again, and Eren responded with a soft chuckle, shaking his head at something she said. It wasn’t forced or guarded—it was genuine. Levi’s chest tightened at the sight. It was good to see Eren relax, to see some lightness in him for once, but there was also something else… something that concerned Levi deeply.

Mea wasn’t just some whimsical drunk who happened to float into their lives. She was dangerous. Not just because of her magic or her power, but because of what she represented—an unpredictable force that Levi couldn’t fully control or anticipate. And Eren? Eren was reckless. He was impulsive, prone to throwing himself into chaos if he thought it would serve his goals.

The thought of the two of them growing closer, of Mea’s influence over Eren becoming something more than harmless flirtation, sent a ripple of unease through Levi’s chest. He crossed his arms tightly, his eyes narrowing as he continued to observe them.

“Levi,” Hange’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She appeared at his side, her ever-present notebook in hand. “You look like you’re plotting something. Care to share?”

Levi gave her a sidelong glance. “It’s nothing.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, following his gaze to Eren and Mea. The playful sorceress was now leaning closer to Eren, whispering something in his ear that made the boy’s cheeks redden slightly. Hange grinned. “Ah, I see. You’re watching those two.”

Levi didn’t respond, his jaw tightening.

“Interesting dynamic, isn’t it?” Hange mused, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Eren’s always so serious, and Mea… well, she’s Mea. But it’s almost like she’s bringing out a different side of him.”

“That’s what worries me,” Levi muttered under his breath.

Hange’s grin widened. “Oh, come on, Levi. Don’t be so cynical. It’s good for Eren to relax every now and then. And Mea? She’s harmless.”

Levi shot her a sharp look. “She’s not harmless,” he said coldly. “She’s unpredictable. And Eren? He’s reckless enough as it is. The last thing we need is him getting too comfortable with someone like her.”

Hange shrugged, though her expression remained thoughtful. “Maybe,” she conceded. “But maybe that’s exactly what he needs. Someone who doesn’t treat him like a ticking time bomb. Someone who can make him laugh.”

Levi didn’t respond, his gaze returning to the pair in question. Mea had conjured a small, glowing orb of magenta light, which she was now bouncing between her hands like a toy. Eren watched with faint amusement, his body relaxed as he leaned back slightly in his chair.

It was a strange sight—Eren, who carried the weight of Paradis on his shoulders, sitting there with the whimsical sorceress as though he had no cares in the world. Levi hated how natural it looked. How easy.

Mea caught Levi’s eye from across the room, her magenta gaze glinting with mischief. She smirked, tilting her head playfully as though daring him to come over. Levi’s frown deepened, and she laughed softly, turning her attention back to Eren.

“Eren, darling,” Mea purred, tossing the glowing orb into the air before catching it effortlessly. “You’re far too serious. Let me guess—you’re brooding about Marley again?”

Eren gave her a faint shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Maybe.”

Mea tsked, shaking her head dramatically. “You need to learn to let things go, darling. You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you even hit 25.”

Eren smirked faintly, his green eyes meeting hers. “You’re one to talk. Aren’t you technically over 4000 years old?”

Mea gasped, placing a gloved hand over her chest as though mortally wounded. “How dare you bring up a lady’s age!” she exclaimed, though her teasing tone betrayed her mock outrage. “I’ll have you know I’m still a vibrant, youthful 20.”

Goldfish Levi, who had been floating nearby, let out a loud huff. “You better thank the heavens for magic you crazy old bat,” he muttered.

The Scouts nearby snickered, and even Eren couldn’t suppress a quiet chuckle. Mea, undeterred, waved her hand dismissively. “Shut up, Goldie,” she retorted. “The point is, I’m timeless.”

“You’re something else, Mea,” Eren said, though his tone was more amused than annoyed.

“And don’t you ever forget it, Handsome,” Mea countered, flashing him a dazzling smile.

Levi’s eyes narrowed further as he watched the interaction. This wasn’t just harmless flirting—Eren was actually engaging with her, allowing her to stay close, to tease him, to make him laugh. And while Levi couldn’t deny the benefit of Eren relaxing for once, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this growing bond could become a problem.

“I’ll be keeping an eye on her,” Levi muttered, more to himself than to Hange.

Hange glanced at him, her expression amused but knowing. “You always do,” she said simply before turning and walking away.

Levi remained where he was, his gaze never leaving Eren and Mea. Whatever this was between them, it was only beginning—and Levi wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a disaster waiting to happen.

~

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