#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

[rpstartersinc]

* 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 ( 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑. )

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" it's amazing how physically exhausting it can be to do nothing. "

" if you are unable to endure boredom, this work is not for you. "

" i am what i am. "

" i'm not exceptional, i'm just a part. "

" consider yourself lucky if our paths never cross. "

" luck isn't real, nor is karma, or sadly - justice. "

" one is born, lives their life and eventually, one dies. "

" most people refuse to believe that the great beyond is no more than a cold, infinite void. "

" avoid being seen, which is impossible in the twenty-first century, so at least avoid being memorable. "

" keep calm, keep moving. "

" it's a dog-eat-dog world. "

" every man for himself. "

" kill or be killed. "

" survival of the fittest, isn't it all just human nature? "

" it's the idle hours that most often lead a man to ruin. "

" i'm aided and abetted by law enforcement fatigue. "

" vigilance is essential, even the most disciplined mind can become weary, impatient, hurried, sloppy. "

" i find music a useful distraction. "

" i'm not here to take sides. "

" it's not my place to formulate any opinion. "

" no one who can afford me needs to waste time winning me to some cause. "

" i serve no god or country. "

" if i'm effective, it's because of one simple fact - i don't give a fuck. "

" each and every step of the way, ask yourself - what's in it for me? "

" you've done what you can do. "

" calm, breathe. "

" obviously it's a fucking problem to say the least. "

" there were two of them. "

" i've learned not to pry. "

" i was so afraid, afraid i might say something. "

" you'd have been proud, i was strong. "

" i don't know who they are, don't wanna know who you are either. "

" care to explain yourself? "

" who do you think you're trying to intimidate? "

" i need that information, and you are running outta time. "

" need any help getting rid of that body? "

" i'm not a bad person. "

" hope they're not planning a sleepover. "

" how's 'i don't give a fuck' going? "

" fight only the battle you're paid to fight. "

" you picked the wrong house, motherfucker. "

" it's common knowledge when a female is found slain, the prime suspect is always the husband or boyfriend. "

" well, maybe not common knowledge. "

" i've been so good for so long. "

" tell me he went horribly. "

" you would be very impolite to refuse to join in my last supper. "

" afraid it's tainted? "

" what happened to her, i had no part in. "

" i objected to his methods and i told him so. "

" it's nothing personal. "

" we've all had to work through the occasional civilian who's stood between eyes and the prize. "

" i was surprised at what i was capable of. "

" how easy it was. "

" i assured myself there were some things i would never do. "

" less you know, the better. "

" one man's cruelty is another man's pragmatism. "

" you're here because you couldn't help yourself. "

" you expected to sit across from me and feel nothing but reassured. "

" how is it possible? having prepared myself for this moment for so long, i have failed to believe that it would ever arrive. "

" i wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, who, come to think of it, at this moment, is you. "

" you'll remember our conversation. "

" help a girl out, won't you? "

" trust no one. "

" this is what it takes, if you want to succeed. "

" good enough for james bond. "

" i told you this, and you don't listen to me. "

" once i see his eyes, i'll have a pretty good idea of how this is gonna go. "

" i'm not going to be disappointed in you. "

" i came to show you how easily one might get to you. "

" do you and i have a problem? "

" nobody's perfect. "

" the need to feel secure, it's a slippery slope. "

" fate is a placebo. "

" maybe you're not one of the few. "

[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♤

[littleandless]

MY THOUGHTS ON SEASON 2 EPISODE 6: “SMALLFOLK”

viserys being the focus of daemon’s visions this episode was sooooo delectable. say what you will about daemon being power-hungry and craving glory, but he has sought his big brother’s love & approval most of all. when rhaenyra said that she, with her father’s adoration, made daemon whole, boy was that so fucking true. daemon had some affection for and attraction to her of course, but she was mostly an extension of her father, same as all other females in a patriarchal system. at least until they come under the guardianship of a husband.

it’s sad that alicent was fired from the small council, but i was expecting it to happen a lot sooner tbh.

alicent had so many Mother moments this episode. caressing aemond’s face, pleading with him on an emotional level to give up this hardened persona that hides his childhood wounds. sitting vigil at aegon’s bedside. protecting helaena bodily. inquiring about daeron, the one she had to send away. openly questioning whether it was the environment or her own parenting that caused her eldest sons to go astray, and seeking some level of comfort or validation from her brother, the only relative she doesn’t have a complete wreck of a bond with.

ser steffon darklyn became a bit too confident and then BOOM dragonfire. rest in peace, king.

also…why are we pretending that no one else could possibly be persuaded to attempt claiming a dragon? so many people would jump at the opportunity, let’s be real. tell everyone you’re holding auditions for the role of dragonrider and they will be on your doorstep in 2 seconds.

“YOU TOAD” aemond i kind of love you. also i’m glad he’s not as susceptible to larys’ manipulation. and now that he’s called otto back as hand, maybe cole will get a dressing down as well.

we all knew, or at least suspected, that nettles was cut from the show. you may also have heard that rhaena would take on her storyline instead. and i guess it’s true! i mean, i’m happy for rhaena. she deserves something beyond familial duty to occupy her time. she’s tried and failed to claim a dragon, and now she will finally find success. i just wonder how it will affect the plot in regards to babies joffrey, aegon, and viserys.

also we got to see a baby dragon! i forget, have we seen any others in hotd? i can only recall drogon, viserion, and rhaegal in the main series.

QUEEN RHAENYRA SLAPPING OLD MEN AND KISSING WOMEN!!!! WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS

ulf, regardless of whether he’s actually baelor’s bastard, was cast so well. i can totally see the resemblance…or maybe it’s just the stupid half up-half down hairdo that daemon & viserys love so damn much.

i appreciate the larys/aegon heart-to-heart, even if it was mostly for personal gain, because there’s a whole wad of truth behind his words. it’s a bond they now share.

disability in westeros is such a loaded topic, and one that comes up often in grrm’s work. i’m not expecting anything groundbreaking but it is cool to see it acknowledged.

seasmoke chasing down addam was lowkey funny. did he do that in fire & blood? i can’t remember. that damn dragon circled back like three times to terrorize some random hunk and i’m all for it.

also it never occurred to me that alyn was bald on purpose. i thought he was just middle-aged😭 but yeah the white hair makes sense.

the food boats were a great PR move. it’s too bad about hugh punching that guy though. i’d be so pissed if i ran through an entire mob for some carrots and lettuce and then got robbed.

so far we’ve got dyana & sylvie involved in team black’s schemes. gaemon palehair when???? and with ulf and hugh soon joining the fold, we’re getting set up for rhaenyra’s takeover woohoo

but we’re also getting closer to the end😔🫡

[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.

[i-mybrunettelady]

a gravitational pull

Summary: Renira goes on a date with a very singular woman. Content warnings: sensuality/making out (M) Spoilers: None Note: Happy Lesbian visibility week! I may not be a lesbian but Ren is and I wanted to write this for ages now but just.. didn't, so here's one for a ship that could've been, but never was. Ft Babymander Nyra.

Renira doesn’t ordinarily meddle with targets that don’t concern her current mission. The Vigil, as far as her orders go, are allies and not people whose secrets she should be focused on. A secret here and there is fine, but there is a line that the agents can’t cross. Not when there’s General Soulkeeper and Warmaster Kernsson on sight as two high ranking officers. The Warmaster, maybe, if she were daring enough to attempt to spy on him again at such a time, but the General? 

She cannot risk it; not as a Lightbringer. Not when her squad relies on her in this way. 

Yet when Kernsson’s pretty apprentice starts chatting her up and asks her for a date, Renira is all too quick to agree. There is no shortage of pretty women, but there is a shortage of time. Now, after that whole business with Ajax Anvilburn is done with, she can take a break for one evening. It’s nothing serious, after all.

Then again, Renira does wonder if digging up info on your date before you even go out is standard practice for anyone who isn’t of the Whispers. Probably not. Alysannyra Ainsaph’s name has popped up here and there - starting with a file in bold, red letters called the Hero of Shaemoor. She has family here in Ebonhawke. And now, apparently, she has joined the Vigil and bears the title of Crusader. 

That’s where she makes herself stop. There need to be conversation topics. She cannot know everything in advance. 

“Nice dress, by the way,” Alysannyra says with a slight curve to the ends of her lips. “I see you’re taking cues from the locals.” She then pauses and joins her hands before her. Her lips, full and pink, are slightly parted. “I think it suits you, personally. We’d wear it belted in Rurikton, for the waist emphasis, but it looks good like this, I think. And I think the flower I chose works well with it? As if I’d known!”

Renira takes a deep breath. “Thank you,” she says and accepts the flowers - a vibrant yellow to match the pink of her dress, just as Alysannyra said - and gently holds them in her hand. Then Alysannyra offers her a hand and off on the streets of Ebonhawke they go. 

She looks good tonight. They look quite the pair, unintentionally so. The thought makes Renira smile. Nyra looks rather good in the traditional Ascalonian embroidered shirt and a jelek. The shirt is open enough to reveal her collarbones and the tightness of the vest makes her chest look pronounced. Her hair is long and loose, brushed but only barely, alternating between brown, red and blonde in the dying light of day. Her face is bare. 

Renira hasn’t seen eyes as blue in a while. Or maybe the lack of romantic attention in recent times finally reared its ugly head. While not that common, blue eyes aren’t exactly a rarity either. 

“Your hair changes color in the sunlight,” Renira says, by way of observation. Their footsteps fall in rhythm.

“Only the wisest of men know what my actual hair color is,” Nyra supplies, and lifts her eyebrows. “It has been foretold, certainly, that one who guesses it right will win my hand in marriage.” 

“Should I keep looking then?” Renira laughs. She likes the way Nyra talks. The dryness of her humor is refreshing. 

“If you like. I like to be looked at. If you guess right, you might get me to pop the question, Ascalonian style.” 

“Oh? I assume your heritage allows you for more insight on that particular topic than my few months of living here does?” Renira leans in - rather, down. Nyra’s hair smells of fresh herbs. 

Nyra lifts her head to meet her eyes. She holds her gaze. “I could show you, if you’d like,” she says. 

Renira hums. “There is time, Nyra.” She masks the extent of the excitement the response leaves in her. Nyra is a woman of the court, and she knows the art of conversation just as well as Renira does, yet not everyone acquires the charm needed to get to be as good as it can be. 

No, it’s not charm, not really. It feels like she has something of a gravitational pull that makes Renira unable to look away. The steadiness of her gaze, the warmth of her hand, scent of herbs and a hint of perfume, all coupled with her head held high, tempts Renira to bend down and kiss her then and there. When has she grown attracted to muscle on a woman? That is a new development. 

Not that she minds. 

Nyra’s smile is lopsided. “Enough time to squeeze a second date in?” 

Renira laughs. “Maybe. If I don’t make up my mind by the end of this one.” She pulls her closer. The eye contact breaks when she snakes their fingers tighter together and runs her nails over Nyra’s knuckles. “We aren’t even at the date location yet. The night is young.” 

And indeed, the sun has just set. The moon is just peeking through, an invited, observant figure to  the chatter of people and their joint hands. By the end of this, Renira thinks, she could have Nyra in her bed if she wanted to. And where would the harm be, if she has a willing participant? 

Nyra nods, pink in the face. “That is for you to decide, but in the meantime, I think a delicious meal awaits us.” 

And the food is good, admittedly, the kind both humans and charr would enjoy. Well done meat with kajmak, chopped onion that neither of them are touching, reflections of the bright yellow flower in the little rakija bottles. Turns out Nyra isn’t a fan of it. She takes one sip, swallows like a battleworn hero she is, and places it down with all the grace of a woman of the court. Renira downs hers in one chug. Nyra lifts a brow, as if impressed. 

And maybe alcohol did lower their inhibitions, but they’re kissing in a dimly lit street later, with Nyra on the tips of her toes and her hands around Renira’s shoulders. She’s a good kisser, it turns out. 

“Billiard rooms,” Nyra explains in between kisses. It’s a rather silly high society excuse to stare at people’s asses and steal a kiss. 

Renira slides her hands down and squeezes Nyra’s ass. She doesn’t need any overpriced rooms. “Were there any bets?” she asks, curiously. A part of her laughs, almost; is she as cocky as someone like Nyra can afford to be, to place a bet to be the best she’s ever kissed? She doesn’t voice it. 

There are many things she hasn’t been able to afford herself. There’s something so very aristocratic about the way Nyra carries herself, the way she grabs attention and stamps her seal all over it. Even now, red in the face, with lips darkened by kissing and lipstick, she knows she looks good, she knows the world should be watching her. 

Arrogance, Renira thinks. Arrogance that’s hardly ever faced a pushback. Arrogance that makes her want to fuck her against that very wall, in this very street. What a luxurious thing. 

“Nothing that went beyond tongues,” Nyra replies after a thought. “My parents have always been of the old, Ascalonian cut.” 

Renira tilts her head and licks at Nyra’s lower lip. “And you?” 

Nyra looks visibly distracted for a moment. “I’ve never been to Ebonhawke before,” she says. “Is that good enough?” 

“More than enough.” Enough to write in your file later. Tastes divine, is hardly in touch with where her parents came from. Looking to reconnect. Doesn’t care about the way things are done here. She places a kiss on her jaw. Nyra’s nails dig into Renira’s skin. She then kisses lower, to her exposed neck. 

Then, she then feels Nyra’s hands pushing her face away from her neck. Just as Renira was about to ask to leave her a little bite. Rude, she thinks and smiles. You arrogant, rude, sexy aristocrat. You just need to be in charge. Did the world see that? Or do you keep these things to yourself?

“I know a place where we can have more privacy,” Nyra says in a voice that doesn’t invite questioning. A command wrapped in a statement, and the quietness of the tone doesn’t take anything away from its force. She slides her hand down so it rests on Renira’s hip. “It’s not that far away. Come.” 

She then takes Renira’s hand and goes down the street, lipstick stains on her face and neck be damned. She walks like it all belongs to her, like she’s the queen of the fucking world, with her head held high. Without shame. Arrogant. 

Not arrogant. Proud. 

It takes Renira a lot to fall in love, but maybe this is a closer thing. Or maybe it’s the rakija, and the kissing, and the moon whispering in her ear, and the Ebonhawke and its pressing history and its proud descendant that’s holding her hand. 

Whatever it is, Renira slides into the night with her. 

It is, after all, a call she can’t say no to.