#Yeah that Blacksmith isn’t gonna have a good time

[tsuutarr]

As just imagined then everything as a game and the hero as seeing like a freak by all the people and the reader as the only good and nice npc then treat him well and even give him free item even if our store is not very we still give him a apologize about the others (npcs) being rude with him and the hero being so delusinal the fall over us lol

so, because i have absolutely NO self control, I made another story <3

Yandere! RPG Protagonist x Reader

Gallius isn’t entirely sure when he gained sentience. Maybe it was when he’d have insistent feelings of déjà vu. Maybe it was when he would want to go somewhere or do something, but an external force prevented him from doing so. Maybe it was when the people he talked to would say the same things over and over and over again.

Regardless, one day, he realized that he doesn’t actually exist – at least, not in a way that matters. He’s just a piece of code, a bunch of pixels moving across the screen, trapped in a video game.

The worst part is that everyone around him – and he means everyone – lacks sentience. It’s gotten to the point that he’s memorized everything. Every dialogue, every story path – everything.

It’s a fruitless life, really, especially since he’s forced to obey his code. He’s forced to go along with whatever the person controlling him wants. He’s forced to be the happy-go-lucky protagonist. He can’t be anything but that.

Gods, he’s going to go insane.

And he’s tried to talk to people, really.

“Hey, so, I think we’re in a game.”

“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”

Gallius never thought the tavern’s owner could look so lifeless. “So, you know, I guess you really don’t have sentience.”

“Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”

“Don’t you wish there was a way you could… I don’t know, break free? Talk beyond your code?”

“Beer is fifty percent off, young man.”

Gallius holds back a sigh. The tavern owner says three things exactly. “Beer is fifty percent off, young man”, “Man, can you believe the monster outbreak?”, and “I don’t know if I prefer a full tavern or an empty one!” are the exact phrases the tavern owner recycles. It isn’t just the tavern owner, either. It’s everyone else in town. The blacksmith, the carpenter, the seamstress – all of them.

It kind of drives him insane. Maybe that’s why he tries to find solace in anything he can, like you.

“Gods, I hate being the only one who sees that we’re a pile of code,” he tells you. You’re a cute shopkeep – whoever designed you must be a genius – that he likes to see from time to time. If anything, you’re easy on the eyes, at least.

“Yes, it does appear that you’re having quite the rough time,” you say. He knows you’re just saying one of your coded phrases, he does, but he can’t help but latch on to that piece of support you give.

“Yeah, you get it.” He laughs dryly. “But what can I do? I have to keep going. It’s not like I have a choice.”

“You’re doing well. I’m proud of you.”

Gods, he can’t hide his grin. Yes, you’re just saying one of your phrases, but the comfort your words bring – it’s unreal. It’ll probably be even more unreal if he could actually talk to you. If you both had sentience, if you both could go against your code. The thought makes him fall silent.

“...Hey, I’m gonna leave for a bit. Maybe a long time,” he says finally, determined to help you break away from your code. He doesn’t really care too much about the other NPCs, but you? Oh, he wants you. He wants to talk to you, to be with you in a way that matters.

“Have a safe journey,” you say, automated. You hand him a potion, a freebie from your shop, with a smile. “On the house.”

Gallius smiles, taking the potion from you. Yeah, he’ll find a way to give you sentience like him. That way, you guys can truly be together forever.

[elizapreg]

Tale of Alora- Chapter 18: Certain Similarities

CHAPTER 18: Certain Similarities

“I ran into Enya in the market today,” Ben explained as he walked in. Nelia was at the table goofing around with her turtle, and Alora was sitting on the end of one of the beds, her hand aglow trying to practice some of the magic she’d learned growing up.

“Oh? How’s she doing, is Vearil back yet?” Alora asked as she lowered her hand onto her belly, leaning back relaxing for the moment.

“No, still no word on that, and Beth and I agreed that if he isn’t back soon, we’ll just carry out the preparations without him. Some leader he’s turning out to be so far,” Ben replied. “No, Enya wanted us to come by tonight, apparently she’s done with whatever she’d been making for you two.”

Nelia turned in her chair, “Oooh! Yeah, I’d completely forgotten about that.” She mumbled, standing up and stretching side to side a bit. “So should we just go now?”

Alora shrugged, heaving herself to her feet as well. “Might as well.”

Heading out the door and making their way across Delyrim, Alora looked over to see Jandyce standing at the gate of her manor. Once the older woman turned to see Alora, the color drained from her face, and she quickly opened and closed the gate, jogging inside.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say she’s scared of you, Alora,” Nelia teased, nudging the elf with her elbow.

“Yeah, well, you saw what I did, she’s probably thinking if she makes me mad I’ll wipe out the whole town before the Invasion even gets here.” Alora replied in a deadpan tone.

“Well once this is all over, we’ll never have to worry about her again.” Ben muttered.

Alora and Nelia look between themselves. “What are you gonna get rid of her or something? The plan is to save these people, remember.”

Ben laughed, “Oh not like that, I just mean, well after this, we’ll have to continue our journey to get you two back to normal, right?”

Alora looked down. “That’s true… but do you really think we’ll just…go back to that after this?”

“What do you mean?” Ben questioned.

“I mean, Nelia got pregnant because the demon queen wanted it…” Alora began, “and now she’s after us. This invasion thing…the demon queen. If we’re going to stay here and fight, we’d better be getting some answers from the demons! I don’t think we move past this without figuring SOMETHING out about getting us back to normal.”

“Huh…”Nelia thought aloud.

“I think that whatever happens, we have to use this chance to figure something out,” Alora said, taking her hands from her belly to one another. “No human village has had anything for us. So…”

“I see what you’re saying,” Ben said, already in thought. “We’ll have to see what this Vearil’s plan is…or figure out ours, and then we’ll see if we can work getting answers in there. I know this seems like a good chance, but at the same time, the priority is keeping you two safe and away from the demon queen’s clutches. We all have to survive this first.”

Alora nodded in quiet agreement.

Nelia, meanwhile, had her head elsewhere, eyes looking down at her hands resting on her belly. “...but what about AFTER that?” She asked under her breath. “Do I have a place to go back to?” She looked back up at Ben and Alora ahead of her as they crossed into the elves’ district. The three continued to walk on that note, arriving at Enya’s and knocking on the door.

“Well welcome back you three! It sure is nice to see you again!” the jovial blacksmith shouted as she basically threw open the door, pulling them all inside. “Oh I can’t wait to show you what I’ve put together for you two!”

Nelia jumped up and down excitedly. “Ooo, yes yes! Show us, show us!” She giggled, as Enya turned around, whipping a cover off one of the tables, showing a large axe and sword lying there.

As Nelia’s eyes widened seeing the two weapons, Alora’s eyes flattened.

“Aren’t these things going to weigh a ton?” Alora asked, crossing her arms. “I don’t know if you’ve seen me but I don’t exactly lift. And neither of us are in a condition to-”

Enya grabbed the axe on the table and spun it over her head with ease. “Don’t know much about elvish steel, do ya? Light as a feather!”

“Really? Lemme try!” Nelia somehow launched herself forward and got both hands on the axe, though she immediately started to plummet toward the ground with an “Eeep!” Fortunately, Enya stopped her.

“But only in elven hands,” Enya said sympathetically, getting Nelia back into a standing position. She turned the axe in her hand and presented it to Alora knob first. Alora still looked skeptical but grabbed it with both hands anyway. She prepared herself to drop when Enya let go but instead it felt like the weapon floated in midair.

“Oh!” Alora’s ears perked up. She widened her grip and carefully swung the axe in front of her. Then, her hands turned around around its belly and she swung again, spinning in a circle on her heel. Ben jumped backward, only narrowly stopping short of a hanging blade on the wall.

“No this was a great idea,” he said to no one in particular.

Enya chuckled as she watched Alora test out her new weapon. “Obviously,” she said, patting Nelia’s shoulder, “you can’t wield elvish weapons, so I had to do something a little different for you.”

Enya presented Nelia the sword on the table. Despite what happened last time, Nelia grabbed the hilt of the sword and lifted it.

“So I made this with some rare ore you can only get in the mountains to the north,” Enya began, “the stone in the blade helps it hover when you hold it, and the gaps in the blade make it lighter and more aerodynamic, almost LIKE elven steel. The fun part about this one was that I balanced it differently.”

Enya grabbed a helmet that had been reshaped into a much rounder, wider structure, which she then stuffed up under her apron so that she looked pregnant.

“This is the first ever sword balanced for a pregnant wielder!” Enya said proudly as Nelia kept wobbling the sword in her hands. “Had to make this thing to test it. Really wanted to scare the neighbors and-”

Enya’s ears drooped as the door swung open, and a large figure filled the doorway. “Enya! What do you think you are doing!” Shouted the figure in a very stern tone. As he walked in and entered the light, Alora was quick to notice the long ears, and the same blue hair as Enya. Walking over, he towered over all of them, looking down at Alora.

“What are you doing here, futilitarian?” he smeared, throwing down his large, heavy bag onto the floor, moving his scowl to Enya. “I specifically told you not to talk to these three.”

“Vearil come on, we can’t just leave them to-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses, I want them out of this shop!”

“Oh leave her alone you ass!” Alora growled at Vearil, to which he turned back to face her. Alora pointed the axe she was holding in his direction.

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my sister, trust me on that. You on the other hand, if not for your condition I would throw you out of here with my own two hands” He mocked, gesturing down at Alora’s bump before his hands deftly yanked the axe from her grip. He then turned to face Nelia.

“And you, Demoness, as much as I hate what you’ve brought to our village, you likely have valuable intelligence on how I can best prepare. And human boy? Benres, was it? Mac speaks nothing but praise for you. And other than your relation to princess over there, I am poised to trust your character as well. I’ll have to speak with you and the demon for a moment, but I won’t until we’re in a place of my choosing, without the Silverian.” Vearil added, pointing to Alora, who was already red in the face, about to launch into a tirade back at the hulking elf.

Ben put a hand on her shoulder, turning away from Vearil. “Ok, don’t go off on him just yet. We have to keep him on our side, without him and his forces, our stand won’t work.”

“I know, but come on, he’s obviously a massive sack of-”

“Just, head back to the inn. Nelia and I will learn what we can and then we can figure this all out, ok?” Ben said calmly, patting Alora on the back. “You’re never going to be able to think straight with him in the room. And let’s not make a mess of this with Enya since she’s been so nice.”

Alora’s face did little to hide her disdain, but she sighed. “Fine, fine. You’re right. We can’t mess this up…” She rubbed her back, her belly shifting and moving from the emotion, her baby kicking. “I’ll head back and rest, I feel like there’s probably another round of contractions coming before long. Last thing I want is this jerk seeing that.” She added.

“Well lucky for you Vearil, I have some matters to attend to, but if I hear back from these two about you trying to pull something, you’ll see how much of a pain I can be.” Alora called back as she gathered herself to leave

“Oh I am well aware of how much of a pain you are. You see while I was abroud, I ran into an old friend of yours. Seems like the Demons aren’t the only ones looking for you.” He said coldly.

Turning back to face him again, Alora looked up at the smirking grin of Vearil. “Who would that be?”

“Some other preeminent tripe, named Jailan. She wasn’t alone, but she wanted me to let you know something.” Vearil scoffed.

“Jailan? Isn’t that-” Benres interjected.

“The Elder, yeah, she tried to warn me of something before I ran away. I assumed she had somehow seen all this.” Alora said pointing at her bump.

“I don’t care who she is, but I did agree to deliver a message to you and will be doing so with no further interruptions!” Vearil yelled, slamming a fist on the table. “After I made mention of a certain high elf girl taking refuge in my city, she was quite shocked to find out it was you. And upon hearing you were pregnant, well, let’s just say her friend wasn’t too thrilled. As I went to leave their camp, she pulled me aside, paying me handsomely to deliver this message to you.

‘I am not the only one who has seen the strings of your fate. Talyn’s ambitions have only grown.’

Now I don’t know much of your uppity culture, but I know this lady was sure shaken up at the news you were expecting.”

Alora scratched the back of her head, a bit shocked. “I’ve been gone for nearly a year and a half. I can’t imagine Talyn willing to leave the walls of the Silver City…” she mumbled, almost to herself. “What about Durlan? Or any messages from my father, Alfurion.”

“That’s all she told me, and now that I’ve told you… get out of here. Being around you pure elves makes me sick enough already.” Vearil exclaimed. Enya walked over to Alora, opening the door for her.

“Sorry, he’s in charge after all.” Enya said apologetically.

Alora nodded back. “It's fine. I need to go think about things now. Thank you for your help, Enya.”

Closing the door behind her, Alora looked up at the sky as the sun began to set, looking back towards the mountains that separated her from her former home. She rested a hand on her belly, sighing as she began to make her way back to the inn. “Like we needed more to worry about, huh?”

[asmallermorehonestsoul]

RWBY: Volume 9 Ep. 10- Of Solitude and Self

In which a choice must be made.

26 minutes! Oh boy, that’s a long episode

SUMMER!!! We start again with the flashback of her reading… “I love you, just the way you are, always” awwww

Is this when she disappeared? Oh no…

Awww the Tai and Summer moment was cute… oof…

Summer and Raven?! Oh by… and Summer has some bitterness…

But they were going on the mission together? Honestly I figured that might be the case…

Poor Ruby, no, you don’t have to be someone else! Nobody is perfect!

Jaune! He did ascend? And that “You never were the hero” from the trailer was to him, though it doesn't seem like Alyx meant it harshly

She sent him back?

So they got the Cat out of Neo… eh we will deal w her later I guess, bc now the Cat is even more monstrous, great

Ruby chose to be herself bc that is enough :’)

KICK CC’S ASS RUBY!! HELL YEAH

Oh, oh jeez, the Jabberwalkers could do it too

Yeah… what are we gonna do about Neo…

 Group hug, yay!

What is the deal w the Roman construct, is it just like… better done bc it’s Roman? But no, it’s still not really him…

And now Neo ascended too? Ok we are only like halfway through what is about to happen

Little… I hope they’re ok…

Yeah guys, you did your best! You at least got CC out of the picture, which is probably for the best.

LITTLE!! Or whoever they will be!

HAPPY RUBY!!! Blessed image

Somewhat!! They are somewhat of a lot of things!

Awwww Somewhat remembers their time with Ruby as Little as being happy

WE HAVE TO LEAVE SOMEWHAT AND JUNIPER… AWWW… but at least they are both ok and together! So that’s nice

They went through the door! I don’t know where they are now though… also is Jaune really gonna stay older?

They’re at the Blacksmith’s workshop?

THE BROTHER GODS CAME FROM THE EVER AFTER???

 BROTHERS LORE?? THEY WERE A CUTE LITTLE BABY GOD GOAT AND BABY GOD DEER??

So they were supposed to take care of the Ever After, and CC really was supposed to be a force for good…

THE EVER AFTER SAID THE BROTHERS DID NOT PASS THE VIBECHECK AND ASKED THEM TO LEAVE SFDSDFDSFG

Alyx left a wish behind for Jaune! He’s young again, except with some white streaks! And sorry, you will have to get used to you teenage voice again lol

The door isn’t taking them where, but when they are needed most? Huh…

They made it to Vacuo! But what’s with the ships?

The song for the extended end credits is so pretty, though I will wait to check out the lyrics for the soundtrack drop.

The end credits were an ad for the JL crossover oh come on!

Well that episode did not go how i was expecting. I mean, I think we all expected Ruby to pick herself, and it was a sweet moment, as well as her reion with her team. But we got a hint of Summer Rose lore, and I had suspected Raven might have been there on the last mission... the lore about the brother gods (although i guess not really gods) was neat. They’re from Ever After and their constant struggle is messing up the balance, because it requires acceptance. To be honest, I wish we have focused more on Ruby, though, but again it was cool. And what an ending! They made it to Vacuo, though what will happen next, I don’t know...

[black-metal-bard]

Really really tempted to make a Choose Your Own Adventure Style Strahd Dating Sim in Twine 👀

I used to use the Twine Software a LOT when I was a teenager, and I don’t know if it still exists(I HOPE), but if it’s still available I might just have to get back into it.

Mostly because I’ve been daydreaming about Strahd nonstop again and I’ve started thinking about all the different ways the narrative of my daydream COULD go and I just think it would be a really fun way to explore a Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Premise under the cut for those interested; not sure if it will ever actually be a THING, but I’m heavily considering it.

OKAY SO

The Premise is that the MC(Reader) is from our world, modern times.

Strahd, in an extremely fashionable fit of Brooding Edgelord Rage and Anguish, goes into the mountains during a particularly harsh storm to scream at what passes for gods about his loneliness; how he wishes just one solitary person could love him.

Well, Strahd being a powerful magic user(with inherent magic he is unaware of from Baba Lysaga’s blood fed to him as child), accidentally SUMMONS THE MC THROUGH THE SHADOWS AND THE MIST with his desperate plea(though he is unaware that HE did it, MC does not appear beside him, only somewhere in Barovia).

Strahd begins to DREAM in his sleep, of the MC; she’s always just out of reach, as though separated from him by another world. He becomes OBSESSED, considering this is certainly one of the more interesting things that’s happened to him as of late in regards to FIXATING ON A POTENTIAL LOVER WHO IS NOT TATYANA. Strahd believes whole heartedly that MC will come to break the cycle(disappointingly for Strahd, MC’s mere presence does NOT break the cycle-choice dependent events will though). Rahadin very much wants it to be true, because he is very sick of helplessly watching Strahd destroy himself over Tatyana’s reincarnations again and again and again.

Strahd has art made in MC’s likeness, which Rahadin ensures is spread across Barovia with the ORDER that if this woman is found, The Count is to be notified IMMEDIATELY, and she is not under any circumstances to be harmed.

Strahd begins to lose hope; each day MC is not yet in Barovia Strahd worries that it will be CENTURIES before he lays eyes on her; his dreams visions from a far future perhaps...or worse, The Dark Powers themselves prevent her entry. Unlike his Obsession with Tatyana, his fixation on MC is no true Curse, so he does his best to put her image out of his mind, lest he give The Dark Powers the satisfaction of watching him wallow even further into the mires of false hope.

MC however, was summoned to Barovia, alone and frightened in this new and terrifying world. The first person she meets is a seemingly kind Blacksmith, who offers her shelter. The Blacksmith of course recognizes her from the posters, but is taken with her beauty and does not want to turn her over to Strahd(which he knows could very well be a fate worse than death for her). He lies to her, telling her that she should stay hidden “Because the locals don’t take kindly to outsiders.” MC lives with him as his “apprentice” for over a month, helping around the forge and cooking to earn her place(not cooking in a sexist way, but in an “I love to cook, I used to sell baked goods in my small town, and this started out as my daydream” way). One day however, the Blacksmith is too busy with the forge for an important order to answer the door, and MC decides that after living here so long there would be no harm in answering the door.

Strahd is on the other side, staring down at her as though he’d seen a ghost. There she is, the face from his dreams; the one meant to save him...and she’s here. The poor Blacksmith just about shits himself when he sees Strahd standing with MC; because he knows he fucked up BAD.

For his part, Strahd keeps himself very composed in front of MC, but fixes the Blacksmith with a firm glare that tells him his fate is all but sealed.

That’s where MC really begins to make choices that matter both short and long term; navigating life in Castle Ravenloft, as the Honored Guest of Count Strahd Von Zarovich.

If anyone’s interested I would love to infodump about potential plans I have for this.

[supremewolfren]

Algiz: Protection - Part Two

Summary: Everyone knew loving your teacher was wrong, but what happens when that teacher is your soulmate, your one true love, the person created for you. Your forever, eventually at least.

Pairing: Oscar Isaac x Redar

Tags: Professor au! Age Gap, Professor/Student

Warnings: Age Gap, Professor/Student, fluff, weak angst, 

Word Count: 1242

Masterlist || Series Masterlist || Prev Part || Next Part

Overarching warning for each chapter and the entire series: Oscar Isaac is being used as a name and face claim, this is not based on the actual actor.

September turned into October, into November, faster than your head could wrap around. Selene was begging you to go to the bar this weekend again with her, you hadn’t been since the weekend school first started. Running into Professor Isaac at the bar hadn’t been your ideal situation, you were so ensnared by him that honestly it spooked you a bit, but you couldn’t help the draw. You couldn’t help the attraction you felt, but you knew even without his mark matching yours, you’d find him attractive. So when you ran into him, you immediately ran from him and avoided the bars ever since. Not that it actually mattered, you had become so busy with school work for the last classes you needed that you didn’t even want to go. And honestly? You were impressed at how Selene went every weekend and maintained her grades. It was intense. 

Sliding into your desk next to her you sighed, “no Selene,” glancing over at her, you found her staring at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen in your life. “Fuck fine,” you found yourself agreeing despite the massive amount of things you absolutely needed to finish this weekend. The girlish squeal she left out was timed almost perfectly to Professor Isaac walking in, which caused you to laugh as he looked over at the two of you with a questioning brow raised. 

“It’s gonna be so much fun! I’ll help you get ready,” she said, turning in her own seat to focus on what today’s lesson was going to be about, before she gasped softly, “we can get you laid!!!” she practically cheered despite the quietness of her voice. 

“No.” You spoke before you could even filter your thoughts, “we both know that’s a bad idea, and we both know that the only person I will sleep with is my dear protector.” While the sentence came out with a sarcastic tone, she knew that you’d never sleep with anyone that isn’t your soulmate, having now met them. Before, yeah you had, but finding your one had immediately tabled any desire for anyone else. She grinned again before uttering a very soft, barely heard ‘kayy’

While you were absolutely enamored with your professor, you needed today’s class to be over. You had questions on the project over blacksmithing, you were to take a weapon of your choosing and dive into the how and why it was created. While incredibly interesting, you certainly weren’t one hundred percent certain on how to work through this. 

Zoning into Professor Isaac’s voice, your eyes wandered over him again, and you couldn’t help the small smile you had on your face as you stared at him. He was incredibly fine, and while not directly yours yet, he was still yours. And it was interesting to say the least, you’ve done good hiding your mark whenever you’ve had to work one on one with him, but you desperately wanted to tell him. “Class dismissed,” he spoke, while you watched everyone pack up and begin to head out, you grabbed your paper out and pushed your sleeves up to your elbows, “I’ll catch up Selene,” you waved your paper at her before heading towards his desk.

“Hey professor, have a minute?” you asked as you walked up to him, “I know it’s outside your office hours, but I have a class that clashes with your hours tonight and I don’t want to turn in a project that isn’t quality.” 

“Depends,” he chuckled, before reaching for the paper in your hand. Before you could even register the soft gasp that had left his lips, your paper fell from your hand as his own hand latched around your wrist and lifted your arm, “Algiz, the sign of protection, and matching to my own.” his brown eyes locked with yours, a fierceness you’ve never seen before filling them. “You’ve hid this since the start of the semester.” 

You could hardly breathe, he was so close and he knew, so you dumbly nodded, barely processing the fact that you both had moved closer, you by a soft pull of your wrist. His thumb gently gliding over the marking, the room was silent, you could only hear your heart beating aggressively in your ears, oh god could he hear it? Could he hear how your heart raced at the proximity? You knew you should answer, you knew you should say something but you couldn’t. Your mouth was incredibly dry.

He glanced up at you again, seeing the small amount of panic on your features, “it’s okay darling, I’m not mad, curious, but not mad.”

The breath you weren’t fully aware you were holding left your lungs in a rush, a small giggle left you as you worked saliva around your mouth again, “I didn’t want to risk your job. I wanted to tell you, but it’d be my degree and your job. I didn’t want to do that to you.” Your voice was soft as you looked at him, “I panicked when I saw yours on the first day of class, been hiding it ever since. Even when I don’t have your class.” 

A startled choke left your lips as the door handle to his classroom jingled, causing you both to quickly jump apart from your quite intimate hold, his hand quickly picking your paper back up, clearly pretending to read it quickly, as another teacher walked in, “Oh! Sorry Oscar, didn’t realize you’d have a student right now.”

“No worries Pedro, she has a class that clashes with my office hours, give me a moment and I’ll be ready,” he looked up and towards the male with a soft smile, a smile you immediately wanted to see more of. Turning his head towards you, “the only thing you’re missing the mark on is the why, I want to know why they chose it, either why you think it or what you learned from research, personally I’m always more interested in the students interpretation, I think you’ll be fine.” He gave you the same soft smile he had given to Pedro, before he handed your paper back. Your eyes glanced over your paper before your own bright smile took over your features. Call me, we’ll talk later.

Leaving his classroom, you headed for your car, knowing Selene would be at it, especially with the never ending buzz of your phone as you pulled it out of your bag, “I’m coming I'm coming calm your tits” you chuckled as you answered her call.

“Honestly, had you not picked up I would have assumed you two were fucking,” her voice was chirppy but definitely a little annoyed at how long it had taken you. Luckily you both only had one more class for the day and it was later in the afternoon, surprisingly when the college put you two together, they did great. You both were in the same major/minor and ended up being the best of friends. It was interesting to say the least.

“Bitch, in your dreams,” you laughed, keeping your news to yourself for now. While she knew he was your soulmate you weren’t entirely sure how she’d take whatever had happened today.

A loud scoff came from the red head, “more like yours! I see you! I’m hanging up now! TA TA.” 

You couldn’t stop laughing as you came up and tossed your bag in the backseat, “you’re an idjit.” 

Forever Tags: @guccirosegold @creatively-analytical

Series Tags: @doctoraceus @ eerievixen @this-bitch-writes @kaqua @organasith @oababy

Join my taglist here!

[emblemxeno]

Not being involved in 3H for a while now has really given me a clear perspective, and I’ve come to realize that I don’t care much for the game anymore. I don’t regret buying it or playing it, but man. I have too many issues with it to really hold it up as a favorite anymore. Obviously because of story issues, but mainly because of the gameplay.

You have the teaching stuff and that’s fun for a bit, but then it becomes monotonous, even more so when you don’t have maxed out statues or the sauna DLC. The monastery is the same deal; fun at first, but then everything is unlocked at like, chapter 6 and it becomes more and more of a chore. Meals and cooking? A more drawn out version of what Fates already did, with the only difference is that it also gives support points. Tea time? Fates did the Private Quarters/Skinship thing first, in a quicker manner and not requiring a collectible. Greenhouse? Convoluted mechanic to use optimally, and ultimately only serves to faciliate getting items to use in meals or give as gifts, something I already think was done better in a previous game. Choir? I honestly don’t think anyone actually uses activity points on this unless they have nothing else to do. Tournaments? A tedious way to get gold, and the non gold prizes are usually things you can buy or make yourself; not to mention that using battle points to get materials from monsters means you’re typically not starving for ore. Blacksmithing? IMO better than Fates, but still worse than every other game that has forging, and isn’t even fun cuz you can’t name the weapons!

The most engaging and fun part of the monastery is talking to characters, cuz (for the most part) the character writing is good. But when that is the most fun I’m having in the hub? Something that was already done in Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn without the tedium of running around a, frankly boring, monastery? And when the exploration aspect of talking to characters and NPCs was done better in Echoes as well? Yeah, that’s not a sign of a game I like.

As for the actual battles, it’s not much better. It has the same exact issues that people accuse Awakening and 2/3 of Fates of: poor map design and strategy that only ever relies on being stat balls. Maps are often extremely big or filled with nothing (chapter 5, 7, Gronder Rematch, any battle in enbarr or merceus) saddled with tedious aspects (sudden monsters, objective changes that catch you off guard), and very static map requirements, mostly defeat boss or rout the enemy. Not to mention how many times maps are re-used between routes, chapters, and paralogues. Fates did this too, and like Fates, when a map is reused in an outright different scenario in 3H, the enemy placement and composition are changed to accomodate. However, in Fates’ case, it was few and far between. With 3H it’s every other damn map.

Battalions I feel were IS’s way of incorporating consistent AoE’s for the 3 people who complained about not having them in FE for some reason. But too bad, you’re not actually gonna use gambits for AoE damage cuz the monster enemies exist, and they’re fucking everywhere in most battles; the gambits are the most reliable way to deal with the monster shields so you can do proper damage. That in itself IMO is also just a massive roadblock and major annoyance; powerful non-boss enemies should not ever take a chunk of my entire team to deal with and be fairly plentiful in number. I get that stuff like the Bael in chapter 6 of Sacred Stones or maps like Battle Before Dawn were tough, but I’d rather have difficulty over outright tedium, cuz it’s not like the monsters are actually hard to fight-they just take so damn long to deal with.

After exhausting battalions, you have combat arts, which... are okay. If you can’t double naturally, then they’re a great way to do more damage in a single strike. Problem is that’s all they really amount to, niche utility for the rare chance that you’re not steamrolling the enemy (which mostly only happens on Maddening, because that mode is bullshit). I find it hard to believe anyone actually uses arts like Grounder when you can use a bow instead. Why use Frozen Lance over just regular magic? Helm Splitter over a hammer or armorslayer? Ward Arrow over Silence or just outright killing the enemy? Then there’s stuff like Swift Strikes and Point Blank Volley that completely invalidate other arts, cuz if you use a good enough weapon, you’re 1 rounding the enemy anyway.

Now, granted, I had a similar problem with the combat arts in Echoes sometimes, but the difference is that 1) most of Echoes’ characters don’t really turn into crazy stat balls like 3H’s do, so it’s justified to rely on combat arts more often and 2) even if they aren’t useful, the arts in Echoes had special animations! They had flair and pizzazz! They looked cool! 3H just recycles most of its animations for the arts, and that’s lame.

After that, what does 3H’s gameplay do that other games haven’t done, and better? Nothing that I can think of. At all.

And of course I have problems with the writing, the story, etc cuz I’ve talked about those problems non-stop. As a result of shoving so much lore to appease weirdos who think “Teh Worldbuilding” is the only think required to make an FE story good, we now have a contradictory and logistical mess that the writers themselves have admitted that even they couldn’t keep track of everything. It’s an honest-to-god miracle that a good amount of the cast are written fairly well considering how most other aspects of 3H’s story are paced poorly, explained poorly, justified poorly, etc. But at that point, I must reiterate, when the best part of the game is listening to the characters talk? What’s the incentive to playing the game over watching supports and cutscenes on Youtube? 

That’s why I can’t in good conscience consider 3H that good of a game anymore, it just does too little with the things that it’s overstuffed with. It’s uninspiring to play at best, downright boring, tedious, and frustrating at worst.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Power of Storytelling: A Chance Encounter

listen nonny i wanna put the full ask here but it's so long so i'm just gonna link it here

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: none for this part

Pairings: anxceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2785

The Imagination is a gateway to worlds beyond your wildest dreams. Anything you want, hope, desire, can be made real. It can spring to life before your very eyes and under your fingertips, there for you to explore and enjoy. It can be a safe haven away from the mundanities and tediums of the real world. A breath of fresh reality. 

When the Sides retreat to the safety of the Imagination, they take on different personas. For Virgil, it is Tobias, the fearless sellsword with a reputation for being good with a blade and a word, whichever his company prefers. For Janus, it is Invoq, the dazzling magician whose feats astound and amaze whoever looks upon them. 

Enter their world, where the characters swirl and swirl about each other, drifting closer and closer to what should be a stranger. Neither knows who the other really is, after all, but there is one tricky thing about disguises. 

They're always a self-portrait.

It starts with a piece of card, blown along the cobbles of the stone walkway to come to rest under Tobias’s left boot. The sellsword frowns, leaning down to pick it up. One side is emblazoned with a golden seal, a man with a curved staff smiling mysteriously as a snake curves behind his head. He flips it over to reveal that it’s a playing card. More specifically, the three of hearts. He glances about and when he can’t see who might have lost this, he stands and slips it into his pocket. 

“Tobias!” Merk waves at him from the blacksmith’s shop. “You’re early this morning!”

“Well, nothing like a fine day to get me out of bed.” Tobias winks. “No matter how much I wish to remain inside.”

Merk wags his finger. “Don’t go wagging your tongue all over town, you’ll make everyone else hear your business.”

He holds up his hand before Tobias can say anything. 

“Don’t. I heard it as soon as it came out of my mouth. No, no, just shut up.” 

Tobias throws his head back and laughs, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, I won’t. Even though that setup was perfect—“

“Yeah, well,” Merk grumbles, the tips of his ears turning red as Tobias snickers, “we all know I’m not a wordsmith.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’ll sell my wares that I’ve made,” Merk says, hefting a bag onto the table, “and you can pay me in coin the way we agreed.”

Tobias avoids the second setup Merk’s given him and just reaches for his coin purse. “I still don’t think you charge enough.”

“You let me worry about running my business and you can worry about keeping your head on your neck while you run about ruining my hard work.”

“It’s reassuring to know how much you worry.”

“Do you have any idea how much time I spend on this armor? If you die and lose it where no one can get it, I’ll drag you back and kill you myself.”

Tobias rests a hand on his chest and smirks. “You wish.”

“No, actually, I really don’t.” Merk shoves the bag at him. “Now give me my coin and get on your way.”

He slides the man his coin—and if he slips a few extra in, he’ll make sure he’s far enough away that Merk won’t bother chasing him down to give it back—and hoists the bag onto his shoulder. The breeze ruffles the lip and he tugs the tie a little tighter. Wouldn’t do for anything to spill on the way to the baker. 

As he turns the corner around the inn, he spots a crowd gathered around the fountain. He pauses. There isn’t a festival today, not as far as he can remember. And he would definitely remember if the town alderman were speaking today—he would not be outside, that’s for damn sure. 

A gasp rises from the crowd, followed by a few sharp squeals and laughter. Ah, so an entertainer of some sort. A bard, perhaps? No, not nearly enough music. Tobias drifts closer, skirting the worst of the crowd to try and catch a glimpse of who might be at the center. 

A flash of something. He moves closer. The flash becomes a flicker, then a shape, then a man. 

A man stands amidst the throng, a glittering cloak settled over his shoulders and a sleek hat perched atop his head. Tobias’s eyes widen as the fabric glimmers almost like snake scales as the man moves, the bright gloves covering his hands flashing in the sun. 

Well. It looks like he’s found the mysterious card owner. 

Just as he’s debating how best to return the card, the man looks up and spots him. The smile on his face sharpens and he extends one of the gleaming gloves to beckon him closer. 

“Come, come, my friend,” he calls, voice cutting smoothly through those of his audience, “I assure you the view does not worsen as you near.”

Tobias goes, drawn by the encouraging whispers of the townsfolk and the man’s stare. The glove brushes along his tunic as he finally gets within arm’s reach. The touch makes him shift his grip on the bag. 

“There,” and the man’s voice drops to a near whisper, yet somehow still perfectly audible over the noise of the town, “that’s much better. Now, my friend, may I have your name?”

Tobias raises an eyebrow. “As much as you would certainly be the most enchanting creature to ever try and steal my name, I’m afraid I can’t make an exemption. Even for you.”

The man doesn’t seem dissuaded. Instead, he laughs, low and dark. “Clever sellsword, aren’t you?”

“The dumb ones don’t tend to stay dumb for long.”

The smile widens. “No, I wouldn’t presume so. Very well, then, what may I call you?”

“Tobias.”

“Tobias,” the man purrs, “I am Invoq, the humble entertainer.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow and looks him up and down. “I don’t believe we have the same definition of ‘humble.’”

Invoq holds a hand to his chest with a mock dramatic gasp as the townspeople snicker. “Are all sellswords so brash?”

“Only when we need to be,” Tobias says smoothly as Invoq quirks a brow. 

“And you have determined you need to be?”

“Well, you did just try and steal my name.”

“I assure you, no matter how much it flatters me, that I am flesh and blood.” Invoq’s eyes travel up and down him. “Same as you.”

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

Invoq’s eyes widen. “Well, I fear that if I continue my show our dear Tobias here might deign to run me through.”

The townspeople cry out in protest, making Tobias chuckle. Invoq shoots a mock pleading look at him, batting his eyes. Under it, though, he can see the unspoken challenge. 

As you wish.

He waves his hand, encouraging Invoq to continue. Invoq smiles, sweeps a bow, and before Tobias can blink, there’s a deck of cards in his hand. 

“I presume you are familiar with tarot and other card divination,” Invoq asks to murmurs of assent, “but what most of them won’t tell you is that the nature of the cards themselves tells you almost as much as what’s written on them. Simply looking at the backs of the card will tell me which one you name, to find it and show it without hesitation.”

His gaze slides to Tobias. 

“My dear fellow, name a card for me to pull out of the deck.”

Tobias grins. “The three of hearts.”

“An excellent choice.” Invoq begins shuffling the cards, the golden seals flashing in the sun as his hands move too fast to see. After a while, the deck comes back in his hands and he flicks the topmost card up. “Is this the one you seek?”

Tobias peers at it. “No, that’s the seven of spades.”

“Is it?” Invoq glances at it. “Oh. So it is.”

The townspeople laugh. 

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” The deck is shuffled again. “What about…this?”

“Nope, but—“ he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the card he picked up earlier and holds it up— “this is.”

Invoq’s eyes widen as the townspeople gasp and applaud, clearly thinking Invoq had somehow placed it on Tobias’s person without them knowing. Tobias hands it over and winks, turning and continuing down the path. Behind him, the townspeople clamor for Invoq to continue and after a few seconds, the man’s voice rings out once more. 

“Tobias,” Pepper greets as he walks in, “you look particularly happy today.”

“There’s a street magician performing in the square.”

She rolls her eyes fondly. “Oh, yes, Invoq.”

“You know him?”

“Know him, no, but the man’s a menace.”

“He is?”

She waves a hand dismissively. “Not anything you’d have to whet your sword over, but he has a…reputation.”

“I’m sure he does,” Tobias mutters, glancing over his shoulder. “His dress sense sees to that for him.”

Pepper’s laugh tinkles as clear as the bell over the door. “Not a fan, I take it?”

“Seems impractical, is all.”

“And you’re all about practicality, we know.” She jerks her chin at the door. “Merk can attest to that.”

“When faulty equipment sends me to Agnes every moon—“

“I get it,” Pepper laughs as Tobias allows himself a self-deprecating smile. Her wrinkled hands set his package on the counter. “But no, I meant in the people who see him perform.”

“He’s not actually fair folk, is he?”

“Goodness, no, but you know how people can be around charismatic performers.” Pepper shrugs, the wrinkles around her eyes crinkling up. “It’s been so long, you know.”

“Since...?”

“Since there’s been one.” Before Tobias can press, she waves her hands at him. “If you’re going to faff about in my bakery, you can at least put the flour up.”

Tobias sets down his packages out of the way and picks up the sacks, hauling them into the kitchen for her. Pepper nods approvingly. 

“Now go, boy, I’m sure there are dragons for you to slay.”

“My lady,” Tobias murmurs, sweeping into a bow and making his way to the door. 

“Are you calling me old, boy?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” 

He steps onto the street, shouldering his packages. The bread smells incredible, but then it always does, and perhaps that should be what he does for lunch, a sandwich with the meats he’d gotten as part of his payment for the last job…

“How did you do it?”

A familiar voice makes him pause, turning to see Invoq standing behind him. Well, Invoq without the glittering cloak and hat. He glances over the man’s shoulder to see the townspeople dispersed, as if he’d never been there at all. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he teases, “isn’t that how the saying goes?”

The man honest-to-god pouts and folds his arms. “You’re the one who crashed my show, if anything, you owe me.”

“I owe you, do I?” Tobias smirks, stepping closer. It’s a wonder how much the man’s demeanor has shifted now that he’s no longer performing. “And what is it worth to you?”

“My dignity, for one.”

“Your dignity?”

“Yes, I believe it’s quite sprained.” He lifts his chin. “Have you ever tried to perform with a sprained dignity?”

Tobias laughs. “No, I can’t say I have.”

Invoq glances at his clothes. “No, that does make sense.”

“Hey! You’re one to talk, I thought a suspiciously shiny chocobo had landed on the fountain when I saw you.”

Invoq smirks, reaching out to gently tap his cheek. “That’s not what your eyes or your mouth said, sellsword.”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “So what is the remedy for a sprained dignity?”

“A secret.” Invoq’s eyes flash. “My secret.”

“Hmm, see, now, whenever I negotiate a contract, I need something tangible. Can’t do to get the short end of a bargain.”

“Short end?” Invoq raises an eyebrow and steps closer. “Are you certain?”

Indeed, Tobias does have to look up a bit to meet Invoq’s gaze. Judging by the man’s smirk, he noticed. 

“If you want something…tangible,” the man says softly, “let me buy you a drink.”

“It’s barely midday.”

“Then you have several hours to think over my proposal.” Invoq indicates the Night Owl Tavern. “Sundown, my dear, if you find yourself amenable.”

And with a swish, the man is suddenly several paces away. 

Thank goodness the last of Tobias’s errands are finished and he can hurry back to his house. He’s in no fit condition to interact with anyone after that and he’d hate to get the townspeople concerned over nothing or worse, let word reach Invoq about how affected he’d been. No, best to stay here until he can make up his mind. 

What to do? The polite thing would be to tell Invoq the breeze had snatched one of his cards and blown it away. If he were feeling particularly cheeky, a recommendation to keep a closer eye on his deck lest another person come along and sprain his dignity. Yes, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll go to the tavern, accept the drink, tell him what happened, and wish him luck on his next few shows. 

Oh, but what if the performer is angry? Would he throw the drink in his face? Call him brash again, but this time without the slightly flirtatious undertone? No, no, that would be…awful. That would sprain his dignity, perhaps he’d have to buy the man a drink to make up for it. 

Tobias shakes himself, focusing instead on preparing something to eat. No, the proper thing to do would be to tell the man the truth. 

He repeats that to himself as he stands outside the Night Owl Tavern, leaning against the wall, eyes looking for Invoq. Sure enough, just as the sun begins to dip below the horizon, the door to the inn opens and out he steps, still without the glittering cloak. He spots Tobias and smiles, coming over and sweeping into a bow. 

“My dear sellsword, you return.”

“I’m not one to walk away from a contract.” He gestures toward the door. “Shall we?”

“Please, after you.”

Evelyn seats them at Tobias’s usual table, tucked into a corner where the whole room is visible, but there are enough shadows to dissuade the casual passer-by. Invoq glances at him as they sit. 

“Ah, so you’re the type to sit moodily in a dark corner, I see?”

“Sellswords do have a reputation, you know.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m aware.” He raises two fingers to order and then folds his hands, turning to Tobias. “Well, now, I believe I’m owed a secret.”

“Once the drinks arrive.”

“Such a stickler for details, aren’t we?”

“We have to be, when getting them wrong can lead to more than grisly fates.”

Invoq sighs. “As you wish.”

Sure enough, as soon as Evelyn sets the tankards on the table, Invoq perks up again, turning and resting his chin on his hands like a child eager to receive a sweet after eating. Tobias huffs a laugh, shaking his head. 

“The wind blew away one of your cards. I picked it up and was wondering how to return it to you.”

Instead of falling in disappointment or contorting in anger, a slow smile spreads across Invoq’s face. “I was right about you, my dear sellsword.”

“What, that I’m boring and incapable of magic?”

“That you’re honest.” 

Tobias blinks. “What?”

“I wondered how you’d lie,” Invoq says, sitting back and taking a drink, “most people would take the chance to laud it over a magician that they’d managed to trick them, seeing as how our profession relies on our ability to trick our audience. So yes, I wanted to know how you’d lie.”

His gaze rolls back to Tobias. 

“But you didn’t. You told me the truth.”

“A sellsword is only worth his coin if he’s trustworthy.” Tobias shrugs. “I can’t afford to lie.”

“And I can’t afford not to. Well,” Invoq says, reaching out and running a gloved hand over Tobias’s shoulder, “only when I’m performing.”

Tobias sits up a little taller. “And are you performing now?”

“That very much depends on what kind of performance you’d like to see.”

He leans closer, voice dropping to a murmur. “Give me you first, magician, and then I’ll tell you.”

“We’re going to need a few more drinks for that.”

Virgil slips back into his room that night, stomach pleasantly full from the evening in the tavern. Luckily, Imagination booze doesn’t have the effect that real booze does, and he’s able to get into bed without fear of a hangover tomorrow. He rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

The new character, Invoq, is…fun. It’s been a while since he hadn’t had to do most of the work to flirt with someone or have them play along. Maybe the Imagination is getting better. 

He allows himself a small smile. Or maybe he’s getting better at pretending to be confident. 

That’s not so bad. 

Janus tugs the blankets up to his chin and hides a smile as he turns off the light. The Imagination had been an excellent idea, getting to perform for people who knew he was performing and not be shunned for it. And then to ask for something he wanted, bluntly, and not be lied to upon receiving it. And this new character, Tobias…

He tests the name on his tongue, letting the ’s’ flicker out into the air. 

Refreshing. To be able to trust someone he’d just met, simply because the man deemed it so. 

He couldn’t wait to go back. 

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[twink-between-worlds]

wish

two fics in one day :0 y'all are spoiled watch four lose the colours then Take Vio's Advice (like an idiot) put fours thoughts in orange lol

relationships: the colours being siblings

will be uploaded to ao3 in like a day or two so keep an eye out!

An argument sparked as soon as Four had woken for the day. Can we ask Wild to make us monster cake? We just woke up, and monster cake is rancid. We could ask later, then! We aren’t eating that shit, Red! Four rolled his eyes, stretching as he walked over to Wild. Wild’s looking through his slate. “Morning, Wild.”Four yawned, sitting at the table. Wild’s house is a nice, quaint building in Hateno. “Ah, Four! Help me, I don't know what to make for breakfast.” Monster cake! Four can feel her banging her fists on a non-existent desk as she chants for that disgusting desert. He doesn’t understand her obsession with it, but he’s annoyed by it right now—he can feel the headache coming on. “What’re the options?” “I could make pancakes again, maybe some muffins though? What would you prefer?” Muffins! I vote for muffins! Let’s go with muffins!! Muffins seem like a good alternative to monster cake. Yay! Good morning Vio! Good morning, Red “Muffins sound really good.”Four mumbled, watching Wild smile. “Muffins it is!” This is unhealthy. Agreed. It’s not that unhealthy! There are worse things we could be eating in the morning.. I’m going to kill both of you. You wonder why dad is disappointed in us— Don’t you dare say that, dad is very proud in us You’re being mean, Blue! Four felt tears in his eyes—dammit, Red—and quickly blinked them away. “I’m gonna go on a walk. I’ll be back in…ten-ish minutes.” After seeing Wild nod, Four walked out of the house. Did he forget his boots? …yes. Did he forget to put his overtunic on? Also yes. He also doesn’t have his bandana on. We are so disorganised. Four agrees. Maybe we wouldn’t be if you had an ounce of common sense! Blue— Excuse me?! I have more common sense than all of you combined! Please stop.. Four wishes they would stop fighting all the time. The small hero headed down the path, passing an odd looking statue as he began to pace. “If Vio would stop encouraging Red’s unhealthy habits, we would be fine.”Four snapped, eyes a fierce blue. Blue. “It’s not harming us to have a bit of sugar.”Cool purple eyes had flickered, fiery red eyes replacing them. Vio. “It’s just one muffin…it’s not like we’ll have four of them for each of us!” Red. “We need to stay healthy to be able to fight.”Sage green eyes shined. Green. “Shut up.”Four begged, eyes returning to grey. “I wish you’d all just go away.” He didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean it. As Four walked away, he swore he heard that statue speak up. “I can grant you what you seek.” Four shook his head, walking back to Wild’s house. The first one to go was Red. Four had made it back and waited for Wild to finish cooking. When he did, he gave each chain member a muffin. …but Four stared at it. Red? Aren’t you hungry? … Red? By now, Red would have taken over and made Four eat this. …where is she? Red, please answer..say something. Say anything. I can’t feel her. What? What do you mean? I can’t feel Red’s presence anymore..she isn’t here. What do you mean “she isn’t here”?! Red isn’t here. But…but that doesn’t— “Four? You okay?”Sky tilted his head, concern in his sleepy eyes. “...I’m not hungry.”Four mumbled, placing the muffin down and staring at a wall. Where could she go? We’re all stuck here unless split.. … That statue said something before we left, did it not? …yeah. Said he could grant Four his wish. And his wish… Silence. Poor Red… She’s—She’s gone? …fuck. She’s gone. And Four couldn’t stop himself. Tears started falling, and he covered his mouth with a hand. Red’s gone. Red’s gone because he wished for it. He didn’t mean it. He didn’t really want them gone! “Four? Four, what's wrong?”Twilight asked, rushing to the blacksmith’s side. Four shook his head, hiding in Twilight’s shoulder. We have to get her back. You want us to talk to the statue again…Green, what do you think? … No. Nononono— Green…? He really is losing them all. Vio. Vio we need to go to that statue. Now. Agreed. …please don’t leave me alone. I’ll try my best. Four got up, heading out without a single warning. “What did you do?”Four announced, looking at the statue. The statue had

a smug tone to its voice. “I granted your wish.” Son of a bitch. “Give them back.” “Oh, but it will cost you—” “I don’t care. Give me my sister and sibling back.”Blue’s still here. Good. “Hmm…five thousand rupees should cover it.” …we don’t have that much. Wild doesn’t even have that much. We can’t ask the others, they’ll want to know what it’s for. “I don’t…have that much.” “Shame.” Then it went quiet. We need a job. Agreed. “I…will be back.”Four slowly walked away, shaking slightly. On his person, he only has two thousand rupees. He needs three thousand more. So, Four spent the day doing mundane chores and getting paid for them. Then, he spent the night killing monsters and getting money as a thanks. He chose not to sleep, in fear he would lose Vio and Blue in his sleep. He has four thousand rupees. And Blue has stopped talking. Vio’s talking to faerself. We can get them back. I just hope that statue doesn’t raise the price… Four really hopes it doesn’t. “Four! There you are.”Wind let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for you all night.” Huh? Oh. Right. Vio always loses track of time.. “I’m busy, Wind.” …ouch. He sounded cold saying that. He knows Vio doesn’t mean to be cold, that’s just the way fae is. … I don’t think I want to work for 1000 more rupees. This is bullshit. I have an idea. Can you trust me? …yes. Waving Wind off, Four let Vio take the reins as Vio led Four away. He doesn’t know where he’s going. Dark Link has been watching. He’s no doubt noticed the situation at hand. Perhaps he could help.. You want to make a deal with the enemy? Precisely. You’re insane. Indeed I am. Four sighed, because of course he had to be one quarter loony. Vio’s always been the questionable one. Smart, good intentions, but fae always does it in the wrong way. I don’t want to do this either, but— Look at your hand. So, Four did. And his heart sank. He’s getting Vio’s cracks on his skin. If we don’t get rid of this now, I fear those could become permanent on you. …okay. So Four stopped questioning it. Four ended up near the road to Hateno Ancient Tech Lab, and there Dark Link stood, by the split in the path. “Dark Link.” “Hero.” “I need a favour.” Dark perked up, a smirk on his face. “Oh?” Four let out a breath. “A horned statue in Hateno Village has taken three out of four of my colours, as I’m sure you’re aware. I want—no, rephrase—I need them back, and I know you can do it for me.” “And what will I get in return?” “Well, what do you want? Please hurry, we aren’t sure how long—”Four cut off, going silent. Vio. Vio left. Left? Got taken? He isn’t sure. But he has none of them. And Dark saw it in his steel grey eyes. “They’re all gone, hm?” “Yes. Please—Please, I need them back.”Four feels…pathetic, begging a dark for help. “Hm. Alright. I will give you them back—on one condition.” “What? What’s the condition?” “You gather information on your friends for me.” Four paused for what felt like the millionth time. …he will wait for Vio to return to find out how to outsmart Dark. “Okay. Okay just…get my colours back.” Dark hummed, clicking his fingers. Being shoved back in at the same time gave Four a…splitting headache. Really, Green? Not even two seconds back and you make a goddess awful pun! Four stood there for a few minutes, rapidly blinking as he readjusted to having them back. But they’re back. They’re back! He has the colours back. Now. Vio, help. I said I’d get info on the chain for him in return for you guys. …did he specify what kind of information? No. Ask him. “So, Dark. You held your side—how will I hold mine?” “Find out the weak points of your peers and tell me what they are. If you don’t do this, I can simply take your precious colours away again.”Dark deadpanned. So we tell him that their strong points are their weak points. But he could take us away again.. This is worth the risk. “Alright. I think I can do that.” “Good. I hate disappointment.” Four watched Dark leave, a heavy breath escaping from his mouth. He didn’t realise he was holding his breath. We should head back. Agreed. Four turned on his heel, beginning

to head back to the village. …he thinks he’ll lay off making dumb wishes for a while.

[knickynoo]

Gonna regret asking this as soon as you answer, but what do you think Marty would’ve done had doc actually died in the parking lot? Like immediately and beyond? And just to spread the pain around, what would doc have done had Marty died by buford’s hand?

This is another one of those asks that got backlogged. Sorry, anon. I've given some thought to these scenarios, though, and, well...I'm sorry. This is gonna be dark.

Had Doc not heeded Marty's warning and actually died (& assuming Marty re-loading the time machine with plutonium and trying to fix things isn't possible for some reason):

Marty would've continued to sit on the cold ground, sobbing for a long while. Einstein would join him, torn between trying to comfort his young friend and whimpering by Doc, trying to get the man to wake up.

Once the initial flood of tears eases, I could see Marty getting angry. Like, the angriest he's ever been. Screaming at Doc, at himself, and maybe finding things in Doc's truck to throw around and destroy. Then another wave of sadness would hit and he'd break down again.

Eventually, Marty would realize he needed to get moving. Someone was bound to see the fire caused by the Libyans' van and also the truck, DeLorean on the street in town, and the man lying dead in the mall parking lot. He'd know that the police would soon be called and that there would be a lot of questions that he'd rather not have to answer, but Marty would be very hesitant to go. He wouldn't want to leave his best friend. How could he? It would be a betrayal. He'd be a coward to run. Doc wouldn't leave him if the roles were reversed. So he'd stay, shivering in the cold night air, trying to figure out what he'll say. What they'll ask him.

After, he'd find a payphone and call the police himself. Upon their arrival, though, he'd lean into his own hysteria and act like he had no clue what happened. Maybe explain he was Doc's assistant and that he'd been asked to come to the mall but he'd shown up late and found the scene as it was already. When it came down to it, Marty would really be too much of a mess to talk to anyone, and the authorities on the scene would just see a distraught kid who needed to get home.

(There's a lot that could probably be said about how things would unfold once Marty got home, but in the interest of wanting to skip ahead, I'll just say that George and Lorraine would be horrified. Scared out of their minds and confused at what had happened. They'd likely do everything in their power to shield Marty from questions and prying eyes in the weeks that would follow)

Oh, right...on top of Doc being dead and Marty having witnessed it (twice!), he'd also have to deal with the whiplash at his suddenly new family. Which would really not be a good situation.

Things would rapidly fall apart for Marty once the dust settled and the reality of things set in. He'd be dealing with a family who all felt like strangers. He'd have no memories of ever having lived with those people. He wouldn't even be able to talk to Jennifer about anything for fear of sounding crazy and scaring her away. His best friend in the world, the only person who Marty felt truly understood him, was gone.

I think some pretty significant PTSD would be likely. Marty would have constant nightmares of Doc getting killed. Of trying and failing over and over to save him. And even with his loving, supportive parents doing all they can, it wouldn't be enough. Marty wouldn't feel a real connection to them or want their help. He wouldn't want Jennifer's help. He'd just want Doc back. He'd torture himself with thoughts of what he could have done differently that night he left 1955 or upon his arrival back to '85. He'd blame himself entirely for not trying hard enough. Not being smart enough or brave enough to have done something to save Doc.

Things would only be made worse as rumors swirled around town. Doc would be solidified as a villain in Hill Valley. A crazy, dangerous man who drew terrorists to their quiet little town and almost got a teenager killed. Marty would have to listen to whispers of people's theories as to what happened that night and hear them express their relief that Doc was no longer around to cause them any trouble. People would shoot Marty sideways glances, either looking down on him for having been acquainted with the deranged scientist or holding pity for him. Classmates would harass and taunt him, wanting to know what happened. Wanting to hear the "real story".

All the while, Marty is consumed by a grief he's unable to escape. He'd probably go one of two ways. Too depressed to function, he'd sort of withdraw entirely from life. Break up with Jennifer, shut his family out, abandon his music, etc. He'd see no real point in trying to make a good life for himself and be too anxious to ever move out of his comfort zone. On the other hand, he could give in to his anger and swing the other way, becoming self-destructive and sabotaging his future--drinking, dropping out of school, and using his fists to deal with any peers who dare to say a bad word about Doc. Either way, he'd be upset at himself because he'd know Doc would want better for him. Expect better of him. But he wouldn't be able to pull himself together because he'd be so stuck having convinced himself Doc's death was his fault.

Where would all of this leave our dear Marty as the years pass? I'm not sure. He'd either spiral totally beyond reach or eventually hit rock bottom and realize that he had to let go of all the sadness and anger and live up to all the potential Doc was always saying he had. At that point, though, he would have lost years to his grief, so getting his life together would be difficult. And...yeah.

That was lovely, wasn't it? Doc's turn!

Had Marty actually been killed by Buford (again assuming using time travel to fix things isn't an eventual option):

I feel like, initially, Doc would skip right past the devastated/crying phase and go immediately to a level of anger he'd never felt before. Do you remember how he acted when Buford was harassing Clara at the dance, especially when she was pushed down? Remember how it took 3 of Buford's guys to hold Doc back?? Yeah, well, take that and multiply it a couple of times.

I think it's quite possible that Doc would attempt to take Buford down right there, which likely wouldn't end well for him. But he wouldn't even care. He was heartbroken already over Clara and then his best friend in the world is killed in front of him. All rational parts of Doc would be gone. And seeing as Buford is, you know, dangerously unhinged and has his little posse with him, Doc might end up getting himself killed a minute or two later as well. In which case...well, that would be the end of this scenario. He and Marty would end up buried next to each other in the Old West.

If Doc somehow managed to survive an encounter with Buford, or if he didn't confront him at all because he was in such a state of shock, I think he'd resign himself to a quiet, lonely life in the 1880s. I'm not sure if he'd stay in town and work as a blacksmith. Maybe? If he wanted the distraction? But he also might move away to a little house and just live off the land.

Not sure how Clara would factor in, assuming she'd return to town to find Doc after getting off her train. I don't know if Doc would push her away, wanting to be totally alone in his misery or if he would cling to her.

Doc would be dealing with a lot of guilt. He'd decide that he was responsible for Marty's death. After all, he'd made the decision to stay in the saloon all night, and Marty had to then track him down. Then he'd taken that shot and passed out, costing them valuable time they could have otherwise used to be well on their way to the train. They could have avoided Buford altogether if it weren't for him, Doc would conclude, and in his mind, he'd essentially forced Marty to have to face the man.

Doc might eventually settle into a routine and go about living his life, but I don't know that he'd ever recover from the crushing guilt he'd feel. Losing Marty would shatter him. Marty was the first person to reach out to him, even with all the rumors and disdain other residents of the town threw his way. Marty liked and accepted him for who he was, something no one else had ever truly done. Marty brought so much good into his life, and in exchange, Doc had done all he could to be there for and protect his young friend--to help him see his own potential. But he couldn't protect Marty, and that failure would hurt more deeply than every other one combined.

Basically, I think that Doc would just lose part of himself after losing Marty. Even if he married Clara and had Jules and Verne and ended up with a nice life, he'd always feel the absence of his friend. He wouldn't ever fully be "Doc" again--more of a subdued, more serious version of himself.

I could see him holding it together for the most part, being a family man, all that stuff. But then he'd have moments where he'd find himself alone and just fall apart. And just to make things extra sad for anyone who's read this far, I imagine Doc taking very frequent trips to wherever Marty is buried, laying a few flowers down, and staying there for hours, crying, praying, talking to himself, or just sitting in silence.

Well. Anyway.

Thanks for the ask?

[elleonmybeloved]

Inspired by the beautiful art I saw recently of a kiss-dazed Diluc saying that he supposed you could continue, and from my own Diluc randomly coming home for absolute free on a random pull, I present you:

Kissing Booth!

Diluc x Female Adventurer Reader

Rated T: Lots of kissing in the dark with the big D himself.

~~~

With slow, drawn out movements, you did your best to set up the booth in the square. Around you, the other adventure teams set up normal ones, like cupcakes, charm bracelets, and assortments of artifacts. You cast a wistful gaze at them, wishing your group had also had some artifacts to sell.

In order to make the funding competition more fair and prevent repeats, each group had to draw a concept from a hat and make their booth sell that particular thing. Unfortunately, somebody had the great and hilarious idea to put some joke prompts in there, and your group had the great misfortune to pull the one and only paper marked “kissing booth” from it.

Admittedly, you had been kind of expecting Bennett’s group to draw that one, so the situation completely blindsided you. You weren’t the only girl on your adventure team, but Felicia had a boyfriend, so the burden was left to you.

“Hey, need a hand?” Jack, a fellow adventurer asks, having approached you with a friendly wave. “I noticed you don’t have your booth set up yet and Katheryn says we’re starting in five minutes.” 

“Thanks Jack, but I’m good.” You give him an awkward smile. “Other than the curtain, the box, these chairs…” You sigh. “Aaaand this lipstick, there isn’t really anything else to set up.”

“Oh, okay.” He deflates, probably thinking you are denying him because he doesn’t seem useful.

As much as you’d like to hide behind the thick red velvet of the curtain, your group needs funding, and you’re not about to be the reason nobody can get their blades and armor fixed up at the blacksmith for the next several months.

“I guess, if you don’t mind, you can help me put this on top.” You acquiesce, throwing him a bone. Holding up a sign that says “Kissing Booth: One kiss for 1,000 Mora”, you gesture at the top of the wooden booth, where there’s a couple nails hammered in to hang the sign on.

“Leave it to me!” He says, and takes the sign from your hands to place it, dreadfully, in plain sight, right where it’s supposed to be.

“Thanks.” You say, trying hard to sound genuine lest he misunderstand.

“No problem! See ya, and good luck fundraising!”

He’s off with a whistle, and you wonder if he even read the sign he just hung up for you. Oh well, whatever.

 A few minutes later, the chime of a handheld bell rings through the courtyard, and you hear Katheryn’s voice announcing, “Welcome to the Adventurer’s Guild’s Biannual Fundraising Fair.”

Resigned to your fate, you draw back the velvet curtain and sit in your chair, gripping the tube of red lipstick harder than you would the handle of your sword if you came across an entire nest of giant slimes.

People filter into the square, most making a beeline for the sweets, and several crowding around the artifact booths to get first pickings of the feathers, goblets, and timepieces alike. With no flashy goods at your table, it’s a while before anybody even notices you. When a few people, you are relieved to see them laugh, and say “Look, they made a joke booth this year too, haha!” You let out a nervous laugh and give them a good natured smile.

You notice immediately when your luck runs out, a gaggle of young men and women just out of the cupcake booth heading your way. The exaggerated “No way, seriously?” accompanied by obnoxious giggles from one of the girls lets you know that they aren’t paired off, and the “Well if it isn’t my lucky day” from a lanky guy with a fashionable undercut and a flashy ear piercing tolls the bell of your doom.

“Hi, welcome.” You manage to greet the group with a stiff smile. 

“You’re selling kisses?” One of the guys, a shorter one with black hair asks.

“... Yes.” You reply. “One thousand mora each.”

“Real kisses?” The flashy guy is the one to ask this time, leaning forward with a piercing look. “Like on the lips?”

“Or somewhere else on the face.” You suggest hopefully. “But yes.”

“Well then. Allow me to be your first customer. I’ll start off with three kisses, all on the lips. If you don’t mind.”

You do mind. But what can you do. At least he’s not ugly, but the amused stares of his group at your situation are humiliating, and your cheeks get hot with shame as you stare down at the table and he counts out three thousand mora, placing them on the table in front of you.

Applying a fresh coat of red lipstick buys you only a few seconds, and then he is leaning in expectantly. You close your eyes and resolve to make it as quick as possible.

“Stop!”

The voice is so sharp you startle in your chair as your eyes fly open. Crossing his arms and scowling, Diluc Ragnvindr stalks over and stands between you and flashy guy.

“Huh? Why? What’s the deal, man? I properly paid, count it if you don’t believe me?” Flashy Guy looks confused.

“That’s not the issue, just take your money and go.” Diluc swipes the coins off the counter and insistently presses the fist of them against flashy guy’s chest until the other man bewilderedly accepts it.

“Um, okay. I’m just gonna… go?” He and his group of friends leave, the girls already breaking into gossipy whispers before they’re even out of earshot.

“Uh, hi Diluc. Why’d you do that?”

Diluc turns to face you at your question, an annoyed expression on his face. “You’re really asking me why, Y/n? … Seriously, why would you even go through with such an idea in the first place?”

You frown at the implication in his tone. “I didn’t have a choice. And my group needs the money.”

“You should’ve made them give you a different booth concept.”

“I tried. Groups aren’t allowed to change concepts, since it would be unfair.” You explain with a sigh. As relieved as you are to have gotten out of kissing anyone so far, the weight of the empty mora box you are supposed to fill weighs heavily on the back of your mind. 

“... You just need to sell all your stock, right? How much were you going to sell?”

You look up, and take a moment to think about it. “I guess I was hoping to get away with just fifty. Fifty thousand mora could possibly last us a few months… if we’re lucky and nobody’s sword gets shattered to pieces from a superconduct reaction again.”

“Make it a hundred, and I’ll just pay for it.”

“Huh?” You blink. “Oh, wow, thank you! That’s very generous of you. I wonder how I will explain all this to anybody who asks though…” Unable to help a cringe at the thought of your friends and guild mates teasing you for being the kiss-whore of the town, Diluc takes in your troubled expression with a raised brow.

“That’s none of anyone’s business.”

“Yeah but… if someone does find out you uh, sponsored us a hundred thousand mora, and didn’t even receive anything in return…” You play nervously with your hands, already imagining the protests of unfairness. “...But I guess I’ll just deal with it since the only way I can see managing to avoid that is if I actually give you a hundred kisses, ahaha.”

“...”

Dammit, this is awkward, why did you have to joke like that? Diluc is looking at you with an intense unreadable expression. You can’t help but squirm.

“What?”

“That’s a good solution. Let’s do it.”

“Oh. Really?” You stammer, feeling heat rise to your face. You’ve had a crush on Diluc for the longest time, but never in your wildest dreams would you think he felt the same. “With me? Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. But I would appreciate a little privacy. Move over.”

You’re still reeling as he makes his way around and comes in the booth, leaning back instinctively to get out of his way as he reaches over and unbinds the thick velvet curtain, leaving the two of you in the dim red light that barely filters through the fabric.

Diluc pulls the second chair up next to yours, and sits facing you. He takes a pouch out of his pocket and places it on the counter of the booth next to you with a faint clink. You don’t even have to count to know there’s a hundred thousand mora in there, it’s a fat enough pouch.

Taking a deep breath, you begin, uncapping the lipstick to apply a fresh coat.

“Is that part necessary?” Diluc asks.

You falter, lips already cherry red. You don’t know what to say. Does he think it looks bad on you? You can’t help flushing in shame. “Oh, sorry.”

“No- it’s ugh, it’s fine. Continue. Please.” Diluc backtracks, placatively patting the air with his hand.

A long moment of charged tension passes, as you try and fail to work up the nerve to close the distance. His lips look so soft and the way his jaw works as he swallows sends a thrill through you.

“......”

“......”

With a small noise of impatience, Diluc shifts in his seat— and then kisses you, pressing his lips firmly against your own until you relax and melt back into him. He begins to rub his lips back and forth against yours, and strokes the shell of your ear with a gloved hand. The sensation makes you shiver. His breath is loud in your ears.

Heat builds up within you, threatening to burst. Your brain struggles to comprehend- Diluc, whom you’ve loved for the longest time, is kissing you. 

Your breath catches in your throat at a particularly assertive press of his lips, and at the startled sound, Diluc breaks away.

“You okay? Still enjoying this, or…?” He asks, voice a rich murmur for your ears only.

“I’m fine, m-more than fine ahah,” You giggle breathlessly. “But I’m the one who’s supposed to be kissing you.”

“Hurry up then. You were taking too long.”

The implication of his feelings in the way he says it fills you with sudden confidence, and you smile and give him a look before leaning in and pressing a quick, sweet kiss to his lips. It leaves you exhilarated and buzzing, and a squeezing saccharine urge bubbles up within you. Resisting the sudden desire to clench your teeth, you swoop in and attack his face with kisses, pressing your lips into the smooth skin of his cheek several times before moving to the other one. Diluc gives a breathless laugh and you feel like your heart will just burst. The soft, tsck tsck tsck sound of repeated kisses fills your ears. 

After his cheeks have received enough attention, you move down to his jaw, the slight indication of ginger stubble prickling against your lips as you give it a few smooches in adoration before moving to the sensitive skin of his neck. It’s warm and so soft against your lips, you can’t resist going further than you should and opening your lips after kissing to suck on it. The surprised, needy sound Diluc makes sends a distinctive squeeze somewhere lower than your stomach full of butterflies. 

You hesitate, and then do it again. He gives a low grunt this time, and your head spins at how quickly the two of you are losing control. Somehow reminded of all the girls in Mondstadt who swoon over and try to woo Diluc, you place a restraining hand on his shoulder before diving in and sucking hard right below his jaw. 

“Hey-!” Diluc hisses and pushes you off. 

You startle out of your love-addled haze and are squeaking out the beginning of a frantic apology when Diluc roughly grasps both of your thighs and lifts you out of your chair and deposits you onto his lap. 

Thrown off balance, you scramble to steady yourself, squishing your body against his chest and gripping both his shoulders to right yourself. 

“What’s the big idea?” You ask, giving him a look as you recover your composure. “I almost fell!”

“I would’ve caught you. And if you want to kiss me like that, you’re gonna have to fully commit to it.” Diluc says, raising an eyebrow and giving you a cool glance right back. “I’m not going to get a hickey from someone sitting across from me in another chair like some nervous Church of Barbatos deacon in training.”

“Fine, fine, I get it.” You huff. He has a point. “You could be a bit less rough with me, though.”

Diluc blinks and averts his eyes for a moment. “... Right. Sorry, Y/n. Wasn’t intentional.”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes at him, thinking of how he throws his claymore around like a weightless treebranch.

Adjusting once more to get yourself comfortable atop his thighs, you apply another coat of lipstick. Leaning in, you're about to press another adoring kiss to his cheek when he turns his head, catching your lips instead. Your gasp of surprise melts into a whimper as he gets aggressive with it, pushing your mouths hard together with a gloved hand at the base of your head. You can’t escape his onslaught. Kiss after kiss, he doesn’t stop until you are gasping for air and then just dives right back in. Your mind goes blank of all thoughts, puddling into an empty haze.

When you come to your senses… a long time later, your lips are swollen, head dizzy from lack of oxygen, and … — Diluc’s gloves are on the floor, his face blissed out and slack, the sight sending a spear of heat straight through your stomach to your core. You swallow dry, clenching your thighs on either side of his and slide your hand down his stomach, and OHhhhgod abort, somebody is pushing the red curtain aside, flooding the small space with bright light.

“Oh, what the-! What in Barbatos’ name are you two doing in here?” Cyrus asks, rearing back with a shocked expression. “Archons, Y/n, I thought you’d left the booth behind.”

“Master Cyrus?!?” You’re just. Frozen stiff in Diluc’s lap, mortified. But instead of letting you scramble out of his lap, Diluc tightens his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace.

“Despite being given a ridiculous product, Y/n managed to sell all her stock to me. I hope there isn’t a problem with that.”

Cyrus stammers in the face of the thinly veiled accusation, monocle nearly slipping off his face. “Yes well. I’m not in charge of the prompts, miss Katheryn is… ahem, anyways, the fundraising event is over now. We’re taking down the booths and moving them to the Adventure Wagon.”

“Oh, okay.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear, still flustered. “I’ll be right there.”

“You gonna need help taking the booth down and carrying it over, kid?” The blond older man asks, an unsure look on his face as he eyes your companion.

“I’ll take care of it.” Diluc says before you can answer, and you nod belatedly.

“Alright. See ya.”

When Cyrus is gone, the two of you are once again shrouded in red-tinted darkness, but the noisy sounds of people walking and loading things onto the wagon is unmistakable.

“...So, um… anyways…” You begin awkwardly.

“—That wasn’t a hundred.” Diluc cuts you off.

“...Huh?”

“That wasn’t a hundred. So you can deliver the rest of them later this evening. I’ll tell Adelinde to keep an ear out for you, so just knock if the Winery is closed by the time you arrive. I have some work to do with the guild but I should be done with all my most important business by five.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure.” You smile shyly. “Far be it from me to not deliver in a timely manner.”

“That’s my girl.” He says with a wry smile. “Blessedly quick on the uptake.”

“We should take the booth up before Master Cyrus comes back.” You admit reluctantly, climbing off his lap as he releases his grip on you.

“Let me do the heavy lifting.” Diluc insists, and the two of you come out the back and get to work on taking it down.

You try to help carry one of the smaller supports over to the wagon, but Diluc just says “I’m the one with the gloves, so I’m the one handing the wood. You’ll get splinters.” and shoves the Kissing Booth sign into your hands instead.

Diluc is… covered in lipstick kissmarks, and though several of your guild mates see and remark on it, there isn’t a trace of the pink on Diluc’s cheeks that you had seen in the booth as he gives cool responses. Remembering the sight of him, flushed and dazed and panting, has you nearly dropping the stupid sign though, and you hastily distract yourself from the thoughts of his lips that had tasted faintly sweet like grape juice… with the fate of Bennett’s booth. 

You’re not sure what happened, but somehow it got burnt down to a crisp. Vaguely you recall he had drawn candles as a selling prompt. Ah. You can more or less guess what happened. Poor Benny. 

“See you tonight.” You give Diluc a little wave goodbye when you’re finished, and he’s about to leave.

Catching your hand, he gives you a kiss this time, getting the top of your hand smudged with the faint remnants of your lipstick. “Don’t keep me waiting too long. I’m a busy man.”

[authorforhire]

I can’t stop thinking about your Howl AU and all I can think about is 1) 21 year old sweetheart speedruns into his late 90s 2) Immediate liking to Trucy 3) Dragging a dramatic Klavier across the floor 4) Apollo: I don’t cook for anyone! / Simon: Shut up. *slams frying pan down*

I’m so glad to have gotten an ask about this au, as it currently clogs my whole brain.

1) YEAHHHHH POLITE NOT-SO-YOUNG MAN ANYMORE. He’s just trying to help his sister and her blacksmith shop. He’s not very confident in himself, always just balancing on polite and socially awkward. Then BOOM he meets gorgeous wizard man and his life his changed, aaaaand now he’s cursed. And boy is he unhappy about it.

2) He immediately loves Trucy. She’s always behind him offering to help when she isn’t busy posing as a Wizard. She reminds him so much of Athena even though Athena is a only little older than her. He tries not to think about how he’ll never see Athena, Metis, or his sister Aura again at this rate. Klavier says he found her on his doorstep, and offered her a place inside.

“She said her Vater had told her to wait somewhere for him to get back, but it had been days. So she decided to see if any other wizards knew where he was, but ah, we were closed. So she decided to wait until morning. Herr Spitfire was a bit out off by her at first, but then she spoiled him with kindling and he’d put me through great suffering if I ever got rid of her. Not that I ever would. She’s never wanted to leave, I’ve never asked her to. And hey, she’s very good at misdirection. Which can only be helpful for a wizard on the run!”

3) He’s gonna be honest- he really didn’t think dragging Klavier’s goopy ass up the stairs and to a bath was apart of the job description. But he really ought to stop being surprised at this rate. Especially when Klavier is reacting like his world might end should his hair not be platinum blonde. Simon wants to smother him with a pillow. He also finds it a little endearing that the “Great Wizard Klavier” is a dramatic brat sometimes. Klavier lays on the bed like it’s a deathbed until Simon says he finds the raven color quite dashing on Klavier, much more than the blonde was. And suddenly Klavier is fine, perfectly back to normal 🥰

4) FDHSKAL VERY MUCH SO YEAH EXACTLY. APOLLO BITCHES ALL THE TIME UNTIL SIMON GIVES HIM SOME GARBAGE TO EAT. Then it’s just quiet bitching.

[janetbrown711]

"If I die, I'm never speaking to you again" - Wakko

Yakko had never considered himself the lucky type, which was hard to refute looking back at his past, but ever since Dot got sick, every time she lasted the night felt like a miracle. 

Scratchnsniff had been ultimately been right, staying there for three days did a lot to revive Dot’s spirits, though it was still clear she was still sick. It was just... better now. She wasn’t sweating and shivering uncontrollably anymore. 

The list of foods the doctor gave him wasn’t totally unreasonable, they were affordable and were often in the market. However, Dot had a tendency to be a picky eater, and since taste and healthiness often didn’t correlate, Yakko often had to trick or force her to eat. It was frustrating, but there was no way in hell Yakko was going to let her get away without eating, no matter how much she pleaded. She was losing weight at a frightening pace, she needed to eat. He didn’t care what she wanted. He’d do anything to keep her alive. 

And Wakko... poor kid. Wakko seemed just as- if not more- worried about Dot than Yakko was. He spent every day working as hard as he could for money, but the results were starting to get worse. The taxing on Acme Falls increased, and soon the menial tasks Wakko had been doing disappeared, as shop keepers simply couldn’t afford to lose a single ha’penny. Because of that, the amount of food they could buy was becoming scarce, so now they only had stale bread and vegetables for Dot. Everything Yakko and Wakko ate was hunted. However, the lack of business never stopped him from going into town and trying though. Yakko was pretty sure nothing could ever stop that kid from at least trying.

Still, it left Dot feeling awfully lonely. She missed her brother a lot, and was always happier when he came home. Hell, even he was happier when he was home. Goodness knows taking care of a sickly younger sister who would be running around and playing with her dolls one day and then unable to move for pain and coughing the next was damaging to one’s psyche. Wakko was a welcome relief and distraction for the both of them. 

“Whatcha thinking about Yakko?” Dot asked as she took a nibble from a piece of her stale bread. Yakko snapped out of his thoughts and noticed both of his siblings had been staring at him, probably for a while. 

“The usual,” Yakko shrugged and took a bite of his rabbit meat.

“Sorry,” Dot whispered. Yakko froze. 

“Dot, stop that. This isn’t your fault,” Yakko shot her a look. They had had this conversation roughly a million times, but no matter what he said it was never convincing enough. Dot didn’t argue this time, and just nodded her head. Yakko sighed, suddenly not hungry. He handed it to Dot. 

“Eat this too, you need your strength,” He said, standing up. 

“But Yakko-”

“No ‘buts’ Dot. Eat it.” He looked her in the eyes. “I’m going outside for a moment. When I come back in I expect all of it to be gone.”

Dot didn’t argue, thankfully. Satisfied, Yakko went outside of the small abandoned flower shop and sat down on a bench, feeling the cool air of the early mid-winter night. 

It had been two very long months since Dot had first gotten sick, and Yakko hadn’t stopped worrying since. After all, the last time he tried to relax Dot ended up sick. To say he felt guilty was a bit of an understatement. Every time she got worse, he basically spiraled into a ball of worry and never left her side, not even to take care of himself, something he also knew was bad, but he didn’t know how to stop.

Moments like these, where he was able to step outside and just... sit for a moment was nice. It was relaxing (if his mind didn’t wander and spiral, as it just had. If Yakko could have anything in the world, it would be an off switch for his brain). 

“Yakko..?” Wakko surprised his brother when he popped his head through the door. 

“Yes? Is everything okay?” Yakko said, glancing at the boarded-up window.

“Dot’s fine,” Wakko said, and Yakko relaxed again. “I just... need to talk to you.”

That part surprised Yakko. He gestured for his little brother to sit next to him, and he did. 

“Yakko, you know how there hasn’t been any work here for the last week?” Wakko said. Yakko bit his lip, how could he not? He nodded. 

“W-well, I heard rumors from the baker that a few towns over there were blacksmiths in need of apprentices and other jobs and I was thinking-”

“No.” Yakko shut him down. 

“Yakko, you didn’t let me finish,” Wakko frowned. 

“No. You aren’t leaving Acme Falls Wakko,” Yakko crossed his arms. 

“Why? I could earn more money out there than I can here,” He argued. 

“You’re barely nine years old. You can’t travel by yourself,” Yakko fought back. 

“Can too,” Wakko huffed. “You were eight when mum and dad died. You traveled alone.” 

“That is an entirely different situation Wakko and you know that,” Yakko shot him a look. 

Wakko didn’t back down, asking, “How?” 

Yakko thought hard about that. 

“Because Mom told me I had to. I’m not telling you you need to go, so you won’t,” Yakko said. 

“Yakko, stop being stubborn,” Wakko groaned and pulled at his ears. 

“You know we need the money.”

“The jobs won’t be easy- you know that, right? They’ll be borderline exploitative,” Yakko pointed out. Wakko rolled his eyes. 

“I know that, but if I go away for a year then you can really save on food and-”

“Hold up- a year???” Yakko stopped him again. Wakko looked away. 

“I-i mean... I’d try to come home earlier, but... a year most likely.”

“Wakko, we don’t know if Dot- if... if Dot has a year,” Yakko said, the words feeling like a stab in the chest to admit. Wakko’s ears lowered. 

“I know... I just- If I stay you’re gonna run out of money for Dot’s food a-and I can’t be the reason you end up not eating because money is tight,” Wakko couldn’t look at his older brother as he said that. Yakko paused, unable to speak. 

Sometimes he really hated how observant his little brother was.

“Wakko... you can’t...” Yakko tried to argue more, but something deep within himself told him that Wakko was right. 

“I’ll send any money I earn in the mail so you can keep buying Dot her medicines and stuff, maybe even get her new clothes and blankets,” Wakko explained. “I bet she’d really appreciate that.”

“She’d miss you a lot Wak...” Yakko said. Wakko sighed. 

“Yeah... I know. I really want to be here for her if something happens but I don’t know what other options are out there. I’ve thought about this a lot, it’s what I have to do,” He replied.  

“That’s evident,” Yakko ran his hands through his fur and sighed. 

“I guess... I guess you’re right, Wak,” Yakko admitted. 

“You mean you’ll let me go?” Wakko sat up. Yakko nodded and Wakko hugged him in a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Thank you thank you thank you Yakko! I won’t let you down!” Wakko smiled up at his brother. 

“Thanks for what? What’s going on?” 

The brothers froze when they saw their little sister standing in the doorway. 

“Dot- I-”

“Are you going away?” Dot asked, clutching her rag doll tightly. 

“Now Dot, Wakko and I were discussing it and-”

“You’re letting him?!” Dot’s eyes were now filled with tears. Yakko sucked in a breath, biting his words. 

“Dot-”

“No! You can’t go Wakko! I won’t let you!” Dot shouted at him. Neither brother moved. 

“Dot, we need the money-”

“I don’t care about the money Wakko! I care about you! You can’t leave me!” She pleaded with him. 

“Dot, maybe we should go back inside-” Yakko said, noticing the people around beginning to stare. 

“No!!! He can’t leave! I’ll die before he comes back!” Dot sobbed. 

“Dot- don’t say that!” Yakko scolded, trying to ignore the stares.

“NO!!! I won’t! If I die I’ll never speak to Wakko again! He can’t leave! He can’t he can’t he can’t!” She was uncontrollably sobbing now, and Wakko’s head was so low you could hardly see his eyes, but Yakko could see the tears streaming down his cheeks. 

With a determined breath, Yakko picked up his crying sister and brought her inside, Wakko followed close behind. 

“Put me down!!” She kicked and pounded her fists, but she was weak on account of her illness. Yakko set her down once Wakko closed the door. 

“Dot, I need you to calm down and let Wakko explain himself,” Yakko said. 

“Y-you’re sup-supposed to be on m-m-my side,” Dot sniffled and cried. Well, at least she was kind of calming down...

“Dot... Wakko and I just want what’s best for you. We need to be able to buy your medicine and food so you can stay strong and healthy, but right now it’s hard. There isn’t a lot of work in Acme Falls anymore and Wakko thinks there might be more opportunities outside,” Yakko explained calmly, not sure how much Dot could hear over her hiccupping and crying. 

“B-but I want Wakko to s-stay,” She said, a lot quieter this time. 

“I want to stay too Dot,” Wakko joined in. “But you need medicine and food, and for that we need money, and I can’t get the money we need here.”

Dot looked at the ground, trying to stop her crying.

“I might die and never see you again...” Dot gave in and cried again. Wakko didn’t hesitate and quickly hugged her. 

“I know... that’s what scares me...” He said. 

“So d-don’t go,” Dot looked up at him. 

Wakko sighed. “I can’t. I have to go. You’ll die a lot faster if I don’t.”

Yakko grimaced. Whether or not it was the truth, Yakko didn’t like to think about how soon Dot could easily... you know...

Dot sniffled and wiped away her tears. “I-i dunno...”

“Dot, please,” Wakko pleaded with her, before getting an idea. 

“I’ll write you letters whenever I can. We’ll keep in touch, it’ll be like I never left!” Wakko smiled, glancing at Yakko. He nodded in approval. 

Dot then glanced at Yakko. Yakko gave a similar look back, one that suggested “hey, I’m not the one in charge here, it’s whatever you wanna do”, if it translated correctly. 

“I-i’ll miss you a lot...” Dot kicked the floor. “B-but if you have to...”

Wakko smiled and hugged her again. “I knew you’d understand. You’re the best little sister ever!”

Dot smiled weakly. “I know.”

Yakko smiled too, glad she still had her sass despite everything. 

And so it was decided. Wakko was to leave the following week, spending as much time as possible with Dot- who was doing her best to try and act like she wasn’t feeling terrible and sick. But Dot never got past Yakko, and he made sure to give her more food than normal that week. 

Eventually, though, it was time for him to go, and it seemed the whole town showed up to say goodbye. At first, Yakko had been surprised at the turnout, but realized that Wakko had basically worked for all of them at one point or another. 

Yakko and Dot waited patiently for their brother to talk and say his goodbyes to everyone- even the mime, who Wakko (and most everyone else) hated. Once he was done however, the train had already pulled up, meaning their goodbyes were going to have to be quick. 

“I’m gonna miss you Wakko,” Dot said, giving him the best hug she could muster. Wakko hugged back. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, but don’t forget, I’ll write a letter as soon as I can,” He smiled. 

“You better,” Dot punched his arm. “Or else I’ll be mad.”

Wakko laughed. “Okay, okay. I got it. I’ll write, or else.”

Satisfied, Dot sat back down and it was now Yakko’s turn.

“So... you’re really going, huh?” Yakko scratched the back of his neck. 

“Yep,” Wakko said, bouncing on his heels. He knew it was getting close.

“Just-... don’t do anything stupid. And if anything happens, don’t be afraid to come home,” Yakko said. 

“I know, I know,” Wakko chuckled. They had had many conversations with that point sneaked into it several times in the past week. 

“I know you know, I’m just nervous. Mom always said to never split up,” Yakko sighed. 

“You’re a worry-wart Yakko. You need to relax, you’ll never be able to take care of Dot if you worry yourself sick,” Wakko pointed out. Yet again, Wakko flexed his amazingly strong observation skills. 

“I’ll try my best to keep that in mind,” Yakko said, and he meant it. 

“Just don’t forget to write- or else I’ll have to come find you and knock the senses back into you.” 

Wakko laughed. “I’ll write, I promise.”

Just then, the train’s whistle blew and the conductor made the last call. Wakko winced. 

“I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise. I’ll send whatever money I can every two weeks,” Wakko said, before giving his brother a quick hug and dashing onto the train.  He then stuck his head through a window and while the train started to chug along, he waved goodbye to Acme Falls and headed off to hopefully greener pastures. 

Dot and Yakko stayed at the station waving goodbye, even after the others had left and the train was long gone. There was a void now where Wakko’s presence had once been and the two felt it strongly. 

Eventually, Dot began to cry and Yakko had to carry her back to the flower shop so she could get some rest and conserve her strength. 

He was going to have to do that a lot if they were both supposed to make it through the year. But they could do it, Dot was strong, and Yakko could make an effort not to stress himself to death. 

They were Warners. They were fighters, and none of them were going to be giving up for quite some time. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

[yolkyeomie]

[request] — member: changbin, word count: 2007, genre: enemies to lovers(ish)/genshin au/angst, warning: none.

[2:45 pm]: “you broke it!” You yelled, a heart clenching scream echoing against the sky as you dropped to your knees in disbelief. Of all the things they could have happened, this just had to be one of them?

“What are you getting so worked up over?” The culprit questioned, snapping your head to attention with a face colored with fury.

Changbin stood over you, spinning his giant claymore around by the handle as he glanced down at your feet. His face contorted with annoyance as he unintentionally made you much smaller and weaker as he loomed over your defeated posture and spoke, “It’s just a polearm, we can just get you another one from the blacksmith.”

“Just a polearm?” You blinked once, then twice, as the boy’s harsh words resonated in your head and you rose off of the ground to defend yourself. “This isn’t just some polearm, Changbin!”

You shoved the severed polearm in his face, the once beautifully handcrafted spear now blackened out with ash and covered with scaring a from the boy’s fire. He stepped back instinctively as you continued to force him to look at the damage he had caused and with the trembling of your hands, you shouted, “this was a family heirloom! My father had this polearm, and his father, and his father before him! And you broke it! You snapped in half like it was a twig!”

“I didn’t do anything! You asked to spar and I gave you what you wanted and now you’re bad at the results?” He shouted back, growing defense as you continued to accuse him of such a heinous deed. “Just admit that that thing wasn’t as strong as your family made it out to be instead of blaming me.”

Furious with his attitude and denial, you took the sharp end of the polearm and swiped it at him. Thanks to your inattentiveness, the vision strapped along your glowed it’s ocean blue hue as water gathered around the head to increase the damage to attack. Though your aim was messy and fueled by sheer hatred so Changbin was easily able to dodge out of the way despite being rather slow out of the two.

In retaliation Changbin picked up his claymore with one hand and instinctively aimed the weapon at you, flames began to lick the sides of the blade as the vision embedded into his arm cuff began to glow its red hue.

The two of your never got along very well, no matter how hard you made an effort in hopes of mending your friendship. It was a constant off and on again fighting whenever it came to you two, especially when the vision bestowed upon you had been for the element of hydro, and Changbin’s for the element of Pyro. Though you were usually able to find some sort of middle ground at the end of the day to keep the tension within the group low, it didn’t seem like there would be that kind of resolve this time around.

“Woah, stop! What’s going on? The entirety of Liyue Harbor can hear you two yelling at each other! Do you really want the Millelith to get called on you?” Both of you snapped your head’s toward the voice, catching the shocked sight of Bang Chan and Jisung approaching.

Within seconds Jisung was at your side, forcing you to lower what was left as he tried to gauge what the situation was. Though he didn’t need to when you were already crying wolf to them. “He broke it! Changbin broke my polearm and he doesn’t even care!”

“He what?” Chan and Jisung questioned, turning toward the boy with disbelief printed on their foreheads.

“We were in a sparring match and I saw a weak point so I took my chances!” He defended himself. “The polearm snapping in half wasn’t meant to happen but Y/N keeps acting like I’ve committed a crime when I’ve done nothing wrong! Besides, we can just get you a polearm for the blacksmith, there’s no reason to be acting like this.”

“It’s like you don’t understand what you’ve done at all, you can’t just make another one of these,” you hissed are him, “This is unique, one of a kind, from my family and my family alone. This polearm isn’t something you can just buy from a blacksmith! You snapped it in half like it was nothing but a twig in the mud!”

“Well then maybe it is just a twig in the mud,” he cursed, taking a low blow to your feelings as he continued. “Clearly it must have been, if a weapon that was powered by a vision of all things so easily snapped under my claymore. Shouldn’t a family heirloom have at least some level of power to it? Maybe it really wasn’t one at all then.”

“That’s enough from you,” Chan scolded, moving into a more protective mode after hearing the words tumble out of your mouths with no filter. “Can’t you see you’ve done enough damage as it is?”

Changbin stared back at the boy, struggling to make up an excuse to get back on Chan’s good side. “But—“

“Yeah, don’t you think before you speak?” Jisung added, frowning at his friend’s dismissal of your belongings and feelings. “You’re taking it way too far, you’re being mean to Y/N for no reason now. Can’t you see that they’re upset, right Y/N— Y/N?” The three boys turned their head to face you but by the time they finally addressed you, you were gone.

The three of them glanced around for any speck of your existence, but it seemed as though you had completely vanished from the scene. All that was left was the other end of the broken polearm lying in grass that had been left behind. “Now look what you’ve done,” Chan sighed, crouching down to pick up the polearm. “How are you gonna fix this situation you’ve made, Changbin?”

You huffed ask you trudged through marketplace of Liyue Harbor, the broken polearm clenched in your grasp as you stared down on it. You had forgotten the other side of the polearm back where you had left Changbin and the others, but your pride wouldn’t let you go back to retrieve it. So instead, you had been walking in the market for hours in search of a blacksmith, but there was no one who could give you what you wanted.

The words that Changbin threw at you stung a lot more than you originally thought and facing him so soon when he probably didn’t think he was in the wrong might cause a lot more problems than solving any. You usually had a decent sense of self control, but if he spoke one word to you right now? You’d blow a fuse in a matter of seconds.

You couldn’t focus on that though, you needed to find a polearm to use as quickly as possible. As much as it pained you to look for a replacement, there was no way to repair the family heirloom and you needed to be able to defend yourself in the wild world of Liyue

You couldn’t simply rely on Bang Chan and Jisung for everything, you had a vision and it was to be put to use. The archons don’t just give them to anyone after all.

“Y/N,” a hesitant voice called out to you, your somber attitude turning fiery as soon as you recognize it. You turned your head around to find Changbin cautiously approaching you, covered in dirt and soot despite being clean only a few hours ago. He stopped in his tracks when the two of you met each other’s eyes, struggling to get another word out of his mouth. “Uh... yeah, so Y/N—“

“Are you here to make fun of me again?” You bite back, the conversation from earlier in the day coming back in vivid memories. “Tell me how my polearm wasn’t a good heirloom? That it’s just a twig in the mud.”

Changbin winced at your words, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “Okay so you haven’t forgotten that... good to know.”

“Forgotten that?” You repeated, scoffing— no, laughing— at the boy’s sheer audacity. “How could I have forgotten how much poison you had sown in your words when you were quite literally yelling at me?”

“I don’t know! It’s been a couple of hours? I thought you had probably forgotten what I said by now?” He hissed, the tensions rising between you two once more. You and Changbin really couldn’t get along with each other, the boy seemed to believe that all would be forgiven if you simply forgot about everything and you held onto grudges a lot stronger then he predicted.

With that the two of your turned away from each other, huffing and puffing with disdain for the other. Was Changbin’s sole purpose in life to make you angry now? Why did he even show up if he wasn’t going to apologize for what he had said to you?

“Talking to you makes me so frustrated, geez.” Changbin muttered to himself, though his words were still able to find its way into your ears.

You turned around fast enough to give you whiplash as you opened your mouth to retaliate, ready to bare your fangs and give the boy a piece of your mind. Though you stopped when the boy shoved something at your face at the same time, nearly crashing straight into the object and struggling to help your balance.

In his hands was a polearm— new, shining black and gold polearm— and he held it out for you to take. “What is this?” You questioned him, cautiously taking the weapon out of his hands to look at it yourself. You had never seen this polearm before, you had walked into nearly every single blacksmith within Liyue Harbor and you never set your eyes upon this one. In fact it looked like it had been... just created.

“I felt bad, okay?” Changbin snapped, trying his best to hide his embarrassment as he turned his back to you. “Chan pulled me aside and made me talk about what happened and I felt bad. What I said was bad, okay? I understand that just take it or leave it, I don’t care anymore.”

You hold the polearm tightly in your hands, mixed feelings begin to swirl around your chest as you glanced at it. “I’ve been... searching for new polearms all over the place. Where did you... where did you even get this thing?”

He hesitated, thinking to himself for a few seconds before he glanced over his shoulder to look at you. “I made it. I got the materials for it, then came together with Hyunjin who uses a polearm too, and... I made it for you.” Changbin turned on his heels to face you, putting on his rough and tough demeanor as he made sure to remind you,” Only because I felt bad and made you upset, okay? Those are the only reasons I made that for you, don’t get it twisted or anything.”

“Changbin, that’s...,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say.

You were still mad at him and hadn’t received a direct apology yet, but the mere fact that he went and made you your very own unique polearm? You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t feel your heart warming at his actions. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as your anger made him out to be. “Oddly kind of you, are you sure Chan wasn’t the one who made it and you’re just giving it to me to look nice?”

“Alright, give that back then.” The boy demanded, reaching out to take the spear away from you.

You immediately slid out of the way, using your heightened agility to stay out of the boy’s grasp, “no! I mean... thank you, Changbin. This... this was nice of you to do for me. I’m still mad at you though, don’t forget that.”

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

The Power of Storytelling: A Dangerous Mistake

listen nonny i wanna put the full ask here but it's so long so i'm just gonna link it here

Read on Ao3 Masterlist

Warnings: presumed drowning, invoq is ‘trapped’ in a trick box but the other character doesn’t know it’s a trick box.

Pairings: anxceit, can be platonic or romantic you decide

Word Count: 2769

The next time Tobias walks through town, he’s careful to avoid any conversations about Conras. It’s more difficult than anticipated, even with the allure of Invoq’s show and the buzz about the upcoming ball. Because Conras is such a phenomenon, it seems that everyone can’t get enough of talking about him. He manages to dodge most of them by looking standoffish and walking faster than most people can keep up with, but when he has to go visit Merk, he can’t avoid it. 

“You don’t look very happy,” Merk says as he measures Tobias’s chest again, “did you and that magician have a fight?”

“No, we—wait, what the hell does that mean?”

Merk rolls his eyes. “Oh, please, just because I spend most of my life staring into a glowing forge doesn’t mean I’m blind. The whole town’s been talking about it.”

“What?”

“Wait, have you really not noticed?” He sets the tape measure aside. “It’s a wonder to see you with the same person all day, let alone for this long.”

Tobias hunches his shoulders. “I wasn’t aware that my choice of company was such a source of entertainment.”

Merk glances at him as he fiddles with a piece of metal. “It’s not, Tobias, not really. It’s just, well…”

Tobias glances at him. “What?”

“It’s just I’ve had complaints of other people who want to spend time with the elusive magician before he vanishes, and someone is hogging all of his time.”

Ah. Tobias grins. “That’s hardly my fault.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Merk grumbles, “you laugh it up over there.”

“I’m not laughing.”

“You may as well be.” He holds the piece of metal up. “Now let’s get you fitted so you can get out of my shop.”

“Shouldn’t I take my shirt off? So you can fit it better?”

“If you wear my armor over your bare skin you’re an even bigger idiot than Agnes gives you credit for.”

“Listen, if you want to keep me in here longer so other people can have more time with Invoq…”

“Keep your shirt on!”

Tobias laughs as Mark flicks water at him. He behaves, letting the blacksmith take his measurements without complaint. Still, his mind begins to wander back to Invoq and Conras. Two entertainers, so different, and yet they both had such an impact.

“Seriously,” Merk asks when he doesn’t say anything for a while, “are you okay? I’ve only ever seen you so quiet when Agnes is yelling at me for not making your armor properly. Which I do, by the way.”

Tobias sighs. “I went to Conras’s storytelling last night.”

“Ah.” Merk picks up another tool. “Something sticking with you?”

He rubs a hand over his face. “Something like that.”

“Mm. That’s why I don’t go to those all the time.”

“No? Even when they’re so rare?”

“Nah. Conras is, uh, too good at his job sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Tobias mutters, “I know what you mean.”

“Well, anyway, I think you’re done.”

“Thanks.” He shrugs his bag back on. “Should I come see you in a bit?”

“Yeah, gimme a while to get this together.”

Tobias tips him a lazy salute as he walks out the door. The townspeople aren’t too busy at this time of night so it’s pretty easy to amble his way across the way to where Invoq’s tent is. There isn’t a show tonight, but it is the easiest place to find him. 

His stomach twists a little as he thinks about what it means that he knows exactly where to find Invoq. 

Is he being drawn in by the man? Yes, absolutely. He’s been more enthralled with Invoq than he has with anyone in a long time. And maybe that’s because the rest of the townspeople are…well, townspeople. Invoq is different. Invoq isn’t from here, he’s—well, he may be temporary. Seize the moment and all that, right?

But there’s a niggling at the back of his mind that won’t go away. Something that says Invoq is familiar, in a way that sends little shivers down the back of his spine. Something that says he shouldn’t be falling so fast for what is so obviously a performance. 

He does his best to push it away as he nears the tent grounds. The fabric flaps in the breeze, the gold seal dulled by the lack of candlelight. He knocks on the wooden post and parts the flap. 

“Invoq? You here?”

No answer. He walks inside, pushing more fabric apart. No sign of him. 

“Invoq, if you’re trying to scare me, it’s not funny.” 

Still nothing. Maybe he’s stepped out for a moment. Tobias heads back out of the tent, walking down to the path that leads to the river. It’s a lovely walk this time of night, it wouldn’t surprise him if he came out this way to enjoy it. He wanders down to the riverbank, ready to take a seat, when something catches his eye. 

A box. 

Floating in the river. 

He frowns, getting closer. 

It’s not just any box. 

It’s Invoq’s box. 

The one he locks himself in. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Tobias leaps forward, splashing into the water, uncaring about his boots or bag, and wrapping his hands around the box. The wood and metal dig into his fingers as he grits his teeth and pulls. 

The current yanks against him, determined to drag the box down the river. Tobias sets his jaw and pulls harder, a guttural roar emerging from his throat as he heaves the box onto the river bank. It lodges in the mud. A corner digs in and it stops. 

“Invoq,” he bellows, searching for a way to unlock the box, “Invoq, can you hear me?”

No response. He bites back a curse and scrabbles along the edge, looking for a seam, something, anything. He finds a latch and heaves. 

It clicks. Jammed. 

“Shit,” he snarls and reaches for his sword. He slams it against the latch. The metal tings and gives. “Hold on, Invoq.”

The wood splinters and groans as he throws the lid open. He reaches inside and fists Invoq’s shirt, pulling him out and laying him on the grass. 

“Come on, come on,” he mutters, checking to see if he’s breathing, if he has a pulse, if he’s alright, “come on!”

Invoq splutters. Coughs. Water comes out of his throat. 

“Okay, okay,” Tobias manages, rolling him onto his side and patting his back, “come on, get it out. River water tastes awful, trust me, I know.”

Invoq spasms and heaves and he winces, wondering if Agnes would be terribly pissed at him if he ran to get her help. 

“It’s going to be okay, I—“

“What did you do?”

The sudden shout startles him into silence. 

Invoq sits up, wiping the back of his mouth. Without waiting for Tobias to help him, without even looking at Tobias, he scrabbles up and over to his box. He looks at the damage—Tobias did have to mess it up quite a bit to get him out. 

When he looks back, the force of his glare makes Tobias’s knees go right back to the ground. 

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to make this?” He points a dagger-like finger at the box. “Do you know how hard it was to get everything right? And you, you great brute, you’ve ruined it!”

Irritation bubbles up in Tobias’s chest. “I was trying to save your life!”

“No one asked you to! I was fine!” Invoq looks back at the box. “And now look at my poor box! I ought to charge you for the price of fixing it!”

Invoq…Invoq is actually mad at him for saving his life. That’s what’s happening right now. Invoq is pissed that Tobias saved him and broke a wooden box to do it. 

And he’s threatening to make Tobias pay for it. 

“Are you fucking serious?”

Invoq whips around. “What?”

Tobias gets up, glaring right back. “You were drowning and I pulled you out, and all you can think about is the fucking box?”

Invoq’s eyes flare. “This ‘fucking box,’ as you so eloquently put it, is part of my livelihood. This isn’t like someone breaking your silly little sword, I can’t just go into any place and say ‘oh, can you fix this one-of-a-kind box for me?”

“My sword actually saves lives, Invoq,” Tobias growls, “unlike your box, which seems determined to end yours. It just saved your life as well, unless you very much missed that.”

“I was never in any danger! I—“

“You locked yourself in a box with no one else around and submerged it, you were coughing up water���“

“—and if you had just trusted me,” Invoq says, ignoring him, “then you wouldn’t have barged in like this!”

“How am I supposed to trust you when I don’t even know what’s going on?” Tobias throws his hands up. “I just stumbled across your box, locked, in a river, and you weren’t anywhere! How was I supposed to know someone hadn’t thrown you in there?”

“I was practicing, for your information.”

“You were—wait, practicing?”

“Yes, you brute,” Invoq snorts, folding his arms, “I have other acts I want to put on, you know. I needed to know—“

“So you did it by yourself with no one around to help you?”

“What part of magic shows is unclear to you? No one is supposed to know how it works! If I tell someone, it ruins the whole thing!”

“Oh, and heavens forbid you tell someone something that might save your life,” Tobias snarls, “because if you’d gotten stuck or something had gone wrong out here, you know what would’ve happened?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me what you think would happen.”

“You could’ve died! You could’ve died, Invoq, is that what you want? And for what? Some magic show that most people aren’t even going to see?”

Tobias winces. Oops. 

Invoq draws himself up. He stalks over to Tobias. “Is that all you think of me? Some dancing monkey to entertain you until you grow bored? I’ve heard talk of you in town, I know your type. You use people up until they bore you and move on.”

He should apologize. He should say he’s just worried. He should say he doesn’t think of Invoq like that. 

He doesn’t.

“You’re one to talk,” he spits, “hopping from town to town like that? Dazzling people until they get bored of you or you get bored of them and move on? Is that why you take such risks all the time, because you don’t want people to be bored of you?”

Invoq’s face contorts into a snarl and he stalks away, standing over the box. Tobias takes a deep breath. 

“Because it’s not worth it, Invoq, it’s not worth you getting hurt.”

Invoq scoffs. “You’re all the same, you people. You want the results without the hard work it takes to get there. You want to ooh and ahh at something spectacular but the minute you understand how it happens you pull yourself into a little ball and rock and whine about how it’s wrong. Pathetic.”

“Says the man who has to risk his own life just to prove he’s worth looking at,” Tobias snarls, stalking forward, “even if it’s only to himself.”

“Yeah, I’m really getting the ‘care’ right now,” Invoq spits, turning back to him, “thanks.”

“You just scared me half to death, Invoq, of course I—“

“No one asked you!” Invoq jabs a finger into his chest. “No one asked you to come here, no one asked you to save me, no one asked you to care about me!”

“Well, I do anyway!”

“Oh, for the love of—“

“Of course I care if you get hurt, if you die, and I don’t know if someone with as little self-preservation as you would’ve cared, but you would be dead. I have to—“

“Why?” Invoq shoves him back. “Go on, tell me why.”

“Invoq—“

“Because you’re a sellsword? Because that’s the only part of your personality that makes you worth looking at? Because you think pretending to be the good guy is interesting enough to make up for the fact that without it, there’s nothing else to you?”

He advances, smirking as Tobias takes a step back. 

“Go on, sellsword,” he sneers, “tell me how important you are. Tell me how good it is of you to care so much. Tell me. Tell me how useful you are.”

Tobias stands his ground as Invoq comes up to him. He looks up, mouth hardening. 

“You would’ve panicked. Your throat would’ve filled with water. It would’ve closed off to prevent water from getting into your lungs but you would’ve drowned. Your body would’ve bloated underwater in that river and some poor child would be the one to find you!”

Invoq leans closer. 

“Or maybe you’re just paranoid.”

There is a ringing in his ears, he realizes distantly. The world grinds to a halt. Everything is silent, and as he turns his focus inwards, he realizes his mind is completely silent too. The anger, the worry, everything churning inside him is gone, pushed so far away they might as well not be his anymore. 

Tobias has never felt this kind of disconnect before. 

He stands up straight. His expression smooths out. The hand that had been going for his sword drops away. When he speaks, his voice is cool and calm. 

“Good night, magician.”

He watches Invoq jerk back in shock, clearly unnerved by how stark the difference is, before he turns and walks away. He leaves them both by the riverside. 

He doesn’t remember the walk to the tavern, only sitting down as Evelyn waves the other patrons away. She brings him a tankard and asks no questions. He picks it up and drains it in one go. She brings him another. 

He drinks alone that night, and he doesn’t leave when the drunks start to get loud. 

They don’t get too loud. They know what it’s like when Tobias gets quiet. 

Virgil growls, shoving the pillow under his head. Then he shoves another one under there. Then another. Then he snarls and throws all three of them away. No matter what he tries, he can’t get comfortable. 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s supposed to be an escape, goddamnit, not whatever the fuck it’s turned into. 

He punches the pillow closest to him

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have said some of that stuff to Invoq. But the idiot had almost fucking died and couldn’t even acknowledge it! Did he have no self-preservation? 

Virgil scoffs, turning on his back.

Why did Invoq have such a strong reaction to being told he had no self-preservation? It wasn’t like it was any worse than some of the other stuff he said to him. And if he’s being honest…it wasn’t the worst thing he said either. But then that really didn’t explain things, why would he act like having no self-preservation was the worst insult in the world?

The niggling feeling comes back. Something about trust, something about honesty, something about—

Virgil sits upright. 

Invoq hadn’t been wearing his gloves. When he was in the box, he hadn’t been wearing his gloves. 

Suddenly the self-preservation thing starts to make a little more sense. 

Janus curls himself tighter around a pillow, huddled under his blankets. Even with the heat lamp on, he’s still shivering. 

Fucking Tobias. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to try and make him into some damsel in distress, and then when that didn’t work, into some sort of villain? He hadn’t done anything wrong, he was minding his own business, and here comes some big hunk to ruin everything. 

He huddles tighter. 

…maybe it wasn’t entirely fair to yell at him like that. He was only trying to help. Even if he didn’t ask for it. And he did seem genuinely scared for his safety, even if he then went off on some self-righteous speech about how he wanted to make sure he was safe and all that.

The memory of Tobias suddenly freezing, then the light behind his eyes dying as he bid him a calm and cold ‘good night’ makes him shiver. 

He pushed too far, obviously, but…but what was it? Was it poking fun at his intelligence? Mocking him for talking about being a sellsword again? Janus frowns, thinking. No, he’d only reacted like that when…

…when he’d called him ‘paranoid.’

He takes a while to get to sleep that night.

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[knowledgequeenabc]

you belong to me, my snow white queen, there’s nowhere to run

I’ve been so dead inside I never posted my NNQ fics but, happy belated tenth, Ninjago! the fandom has been wonderful and I’ve made so many friends, seen so much beautiful work, made it through so much because of this silly little plastic ninja show. <3 This fic’s title comes from “Snow White Queen” by Evanescence (yeah I know don’t @ me), if you wanna. set the mood for this one. We’re gonna be following Nya after Skybound for a bit and it won’t be pretty.

Nya remembers it all.

It never happened, of course. That was the condition of Jay’s last wish: that none of it had ever happened in the first place. 

Yet she remembers.

It’s good that she does, honestly. She’ll recognize the threat if it ever presents itself again. Plus, the others don’t remember, so they can’t worry themselves about it.

Jay wanted to tell them. “No more secrets,” he said. She’s proud of him, she really is, at least he’s learned from dragging them through hell and back …

But she can’t do it.

She remembers Jay’s eyes, glinting bright and worried in a dim room, as he asks if she’s sure about this; Nya remembers her voice hardening to keep vulnerability from bleeding through as she nods. She’s well aware it’s unwise to keep a secret this heavy, thank you, but they’re both heart-wrenchingly familiar with secrets. What’s one more?

Getting angry at Jay for keeping secrets and then turning around and asking to keep this one … it’s hypocritical. She sees the recognition of the fact in his eyes, but there’s understanding mixed with it; it’s his secret, too. It’s their burden to shoulder behind closed doors, afraid to face their family. After losing Zane and getting him back, after Chen and Garmadon, after Morro, peace feels fraught, like walking a tightrope over another storm. How would the others react to knowing they’d broken again? She doesn’t want to deal with the answer to that question.

So Nya does what she does best. She squares her shoulders and marches through each day, reminding herself with each skip of her heart, each flash of her life before her eyes, each time the world blurs that it’s over now. It spits in the face of every lesson life’s beaten into her bones, reverting to stubbornness and pride and the kind of independence that would rather see her amputate an injured limb than get help for it, but it’s a twisted kind of easier to wrestle her pain in silence. The sky pirates made it clear that she needs to stop being afraid to rely on her team, and with a distant sense of guilt it occurs to her that applies to her emotions about this situation, too, but ...

But that fight’s over. And Nya honestly wants nothing more than to take the lesson to heart and put the rest behind her. Let sleeping dogs lie, and all.

Slight problem with that plan: she’s beginning to get the feeling they don’t want to stay asleep. Nya’s good at compartmentalizing, and has been ever since she was an orphan child balancing school and keeping the forge afloat, but the neat dividers are starting to give.

All she can do is watch as the cracks spider out like the Tiger Widow’s web.

~~~~

Lloyd sits on the edge of the ship’s deck at night, sometimes.

Who knows what he’s thinking. Nya knows her little brother would rather sort through his feelings behind curtains, and they’re all working on helping him open up, but sometimes there’s nothing to do but be there with someone while they watch the world turn.

Tonight, thoughts zipping through her head with manic intensity and no distraction to stop them, she joins him, letting her legs hang over the edge of the Bounty. He acknowledges her with a smile and inches closer, then turns back to face the clouds, eyes searching the scene like there’s a cosmic answer somewhere in the moonlight poking through the blanket of grey. The sky roils in dark, angry sheets, air thick enough to slice with a knife. Nya remembers another storm out at churning sea, splinters from a shipwreck, a missing friend and her bubbling fury in the aftermath, and shudders.

Lloyd doesn’t speak, but he’s gripping a photo of his father with white knuckles and a pinched face. And she understands.

Never once has Lloyd gotten to choose his path. His only crime was wanting Garmadon in his life, and the gift he received in return for it was becoming fated to finish his father off, once, then twice. It’s a painful game, to be destiny’s plaything.

Self-centered as it is, Nya wants to think she gets it. Rarely does she get to choose, either. Being folded into the fate of Ninjago via kidnapping from blacksmith shop had been exciting until she was relegated to damsel in distress and left on the wayside. Then when she’d forged her own path as Samurai X, she had to give it up and be the water ninja instead. Water ninja. Kai’s sister. Jay’s love interest. The girl. Nadakhan’s prize.

Never a thought for what Nya wants to be. Just roles and labels to live up to whether she likes it or not, forced upon her like a wedding dress sewn for someone else.

And the one choice she could make ended up …

Her chest tightens until she’s dizzy.

Once the world sharpens back into focus, Nya casts Lloyd a sympathetic glance and quietly traces the feathery outlines of the clouds with her eyes. It’s a good night for commiserating, and she’s not feeling talkative, either.

She wonders what she is now, and her throat tightens.

~~~~

Nya catches, out of the corner of her eye, the breathless headline on the tabloid lining the rack at the grocery store—“DEVASTATING FACTS ABOUT THE GIRL NINJA!!” —and bites back the urge to scream herself hoarse.

The public eye is an unforgiving one, she knows that, she’s long since resigned herself to it. But sometimes it grates, the way everyone seems to presume they can weigh in on Nya.

The people out there don’t know anything about her.  All they care about is that she’s the girl, and there’s drama behind her they can gobble up like starved mutts.

She doesn’t let on about it much, because being imperfect is kind of one of her worst nightmares, but she knows she’s made mistakes in the past. She was prideful, even haughty. She strung Jay and Cole along for way too long because the attention got to her head, and the paparazzi will never let her forget it. Nya should have been the bigger person and cut it short, instead of letting Cole keep going with it because he was mad Jay didn’t trust him, or letting Jay’s jealousy fester as long as it did. Bit late for that, though.

It’s hardly like her faults stop there. Being hunted by Nadakhan and upset by Jay’s refusal to understand her “no” meant no, on top of the fact that her independence would only ever be conditional sinking in from becoming the water ninja … it was a perfect storm of stress, and it made her nasty. Jay keeping secrets and endangering them all was the last straw. She blew up, lashed out, furious that she couldn’t trust anything to go right.

She still regrets it. The bruises on his skin after his rescue are still imprinted on her eyelids when she wakes up, sometimes.

So she’s not perfect, by a long shot. But …

(Greedy eyes following her every movement, wanting her as she runs. Blinking to find another family member gone. Fighting for her life as the pirates capture her. Being wrestled into someone else’s gown. Pushing desperately against Dilara’s spirit snatching away her autonomy. Venom seeping into her gown, frigid then BURNING, the ability to think slipping—)

Nya loosens the death grip she has on her basket. Takes a deep breath in, then out.

They don’t know anything about her. Tabloids and TV hosts and publicists can gossip all they want about Nya’s mistakes; they’ll never convince her she deserved to die for them.

~~~~

Kai is many things, and stupid is definitely one of them, sometimes. But he isn’t stupid when it comes to how Nya’s doing, and she knows this. If anything, she’s the idiot for thinking she could keep herself under wraps from him for long. Kai must have noticed the tough veneer she’s painted over herself, and how secretive she’s being with them, because Kai knows she doesn’t like to be open about feeling unwell, and Nya knows that it worries him.

Ironically enough, that worry is why she knows she can’t ever tell Kai what happened. Ever since she revealed herself as Samurai X, he’d learned not to hover, and Nya’s endlessly grateful that he’s understanding enough to trust in her strength. Nowadays, Kai’s concern manifests in significant glances, questioning hands on her shoulder, hugs a little tighter and lingering longer than normal, discreetly asking if there’s anything she wants to tell him.

He’s taken to all that behavior in hyperdrive, of course, because there is no way Nya’s snippiness and constant tension and nights in the kitchen making tea after nightmares slipped his notice.

But that’s fine. Nya would rather deal with the quiet apprehension radiating off him now than the full-blown panic she’s bound to have on her hands if Kai ever found out that she’d lost her life and he’d been helpless to do anything but watch.

She has an idea what it’ll look like, too. He’d taken Lloyd’s possession hard enough—Nya had caught him pummeling punching bags in the training room until his knuckles bled, noticed the heaviness in his eyes when he looked at their little brother, or at Cole, and no matter how much she insisted that he hadn’t failed, Kai refused to let himself believe it. Uttering a word about the Sky Pirates to her older brother, Kai who had practically raised them both, Kai who had only ever become a ninja to save her, Kai who had blamed himself so ruthlessly for Zane and Lloyd and Cole?

It would break him.

She just can’t do that to him. She’ll stitch her lips shut if that’s what it takes to make sure he never finds out.

So when Kai fixes them both mugs of chamomile tea at 2 in the morning, and casually remarks on the strange amount of repairs she’s been doing on the perfectly intact Bounty, Nya just smiles tiredly at him and fires off some sarcastic retort that’s sure to rile him up.

She loves her older brother, which is why she made the decision to take this secret to her grave.

~~~~

Nya notices while brushing her hair, one day, that she’s neglected to pay attention to it; the sleek black strands are almost to her shoulder, rather than brushing against her chin like she’s used to. Once she’s teased out every last snarl, she goes to cut her hair, but hesitates right before the scissors snip.

When she looks in the mirror, sometimes it’s Dilara’s face flashing before her eyes, not her own. She has to look for the minutiae, the details that count, like the flinty sharpness in her own eyes, the scar near her chin, the odd mark forming on her cheek, obsessively contrasting them to wide, sweet eyes on a deceptively cherubic face.

Nya wishes—no, not wishes, look where wishing had gotten them all—that Nadakhan had cared to see the differences. Maybe that way, she wouldn’t have felt the eyes on her back, always following her, waiting for her to fall into his grasp. Maybe she could have avoided the desperate game of cat-and-mouse. And just maybe, she wouldn’t have been grappled into a suffocating gown, or had her agency ripped from her as Dilara took her face, or died—

Right, that had happened. How Cole and Zane go about their days knowing they’ve walked through the doors of death, she can't begin to fathom. Nya wonders when she’ll stop feeling like she has to hide in her own home from eyes that are no longer watching, wonders when she’ll stop feeling the white-hot burn of venom leaching into her blood, and it’s Dilara’s face that brought it upon her.

Nya sets the scissors down, and tries not to flinch at the way they klink against the counter. She doesn’t want Dilara’s face anymore.

Maybe she’ll let it grow out.

~~~~~

It wasn’t even that rough of a touch, Nya despairs later. Cole, even in spars, always knew his strength, and he barely glanced her sternum with a ghostly hand as she knocked him off balance.

Apparently, on a bad day, that chilly touch was enough to send the phantom shock of Tiger Widow venom racing through her system; Nya forgot how to breathe for a second, and the next she broke her stance and pushed. Already off-kilter, Cole stumbled, his back hitting the ground with a heavy thud. In the instant before the others could be alarmed, they locked eyes, concerned meeting terrified. She forced her voice to stay even as she said, “I think that’s enough training for today.” Then she ran.

Now, here she is, her door slammed shut and locked, and her back’s pressed against it as she tries to remember what it feels like not to buzz like an entire hornet’s nest. She’s fine, she repeats to herself. The mantra is soothing simply in its repetitiveness; it gets her mind off of the sensation that won’t leave her alone ever since she lived it. She’s fine, she’s alive, and she’s not losing her grip on consciousness because all her organs are shutting down. Nya is fine, not actually feeling the venom seep into her skin through the coarse fabric of the wedding dress, cold for just a millisecond before erupting into white-hot pain across her skin. If her vision is off, it’s because of the tears welling up despite her stubborn efforts to blink them away, not the spots that danced across her world as Flintlocke’s fatal accident slowly claimed her life-

Her breath catches in a sob. Nya furiously muffles it behind her hand.

It didn’t even happen. She’s been through so much, she’s been in danger so many times, and this is the one that sticks? So it killed her, yeah, admittedly that’s a big step above the other times, but it hadn’t happened to anyone else except her, and Jay, and she can’t, won’t, make those words leave her lips. Every other problem in her life, she’d risen above, she’d fixed and wrestled back into her control, and then she’d gotten to square her shoulders and quip to the boys how easy it had been.

How does she fix something that’s only broken in her memories?

~~~~~

Nya remembers it all.

She almost wishes she didn’t.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Forged of Love

You were most certainly not too late! In fact, just in time because I’m pretty sure you were the last request before I closed my askbox...so good timing??? And as for this request? *Chefs kiss* I have so much love for this?? How dare you present me with such a fun ask??? I rarely write for Eijiro but he’s actually super fun to write for??? He can either be so soft and fluffy and just...yes?? Or he can be that hot, frustratingly sexy pro you wanna bang.

Either way, I hope you enjoy this scenario! I was gonna write headcanons but the request caught me in a scenario-writing mood. So, yeah.

Let me know what you think!

I would also like to note that I was gonna schedule this for the 27th since I’ve got posts ready to go for the 25th and 26th...but fuck it, I put four sleep-deprived hours into this and I wanna post it now.

🥃 AO3 🥃 || ✉️My Askbox✉️ || 💬Discord💬

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

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 “Thank you again, Mr. Kirishima”

 .

 Eijiro smiled warmly at you as you curtsied in front of him, holding the package that he had taken great care to wrap for you earlier that morning, containing the latest request you had made of him; small enough for him to allow you to take it back to your home without him accompanying you, but large enough to fill your arms.

 Any bigger and Eijiro would have insisted on carrying the heavy iron item back on your behalf, it wouldn’t be proper to allow someone such as yourself, a well-known aristocrats daughter, to carry such a thing home.

 “No problem! And hey, I thought we agreed that you’d start calling me Eijiro? You’re here often enough for it to be normal, Miss. (Name)” You tilted your head at his cheery words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you glanced back towards the carriage that awaited your presence. Not nearly enough time for a casual chat, but maybe for a cheeky remark here and there; at least, until your next visit.

 Which, judging by the condition of your horses’ shoes, would be considerably close. Not that you would complain about such an opportunity, you had been using every chance you had to come see the charming, young blacksmith that had surfaced in the town. Errands or requests that you made simply to see him, it didn’t matter.

 Anything was enough.

 .

 “Well in that case, you should be calling me (Name) and not Miss (Name)…right?”

 .

 The corners of Eijiro’s mouth stretched out into a large grin as he laughed at your statement, giving a nod of his head before rubbing at his neck sheepishly; the action causing the muscles in his arm to flex impressively, drawing your thoughts to an inappropriate place.

 “Yeah, sorry about that. You’re right! I guess I’ll see you another time (Name), make sure you take care. Alright?” You gave a simple nod in response to his words of care, turning to make your way towards the carriage despite how much you wished that you could stay and chat with Eijiro a little while longer; however, there was only so long you could stay outside of the house. Any longer and your father would grow concerned, perhaps even look into what had caught your attention as of late and that, was the last thing you wanted.

 “Goodbye, Eijiro.”

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 ~  ~  ~

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 “So, I saw you with that cute little lady earlier”

 .

 Eijiro frowned as he shoved his latest work in progress into the burning hot forge, making sure to bury it beneath a healthy layer of coals before lifting his gaze to look over at his best friend and greatest rival; Tetsutetsu.

 More than a little surprised to see him in his Smithy at such an hour when usually, his rival’s own business should be booming.

 “Tetsutetsu? Uh, yeah, (Name) had some stuff to pick up this morning.” Eijiro shrugged off Tetsutetsu’s remark, looking back towards the flames before removing the sword and moving to rest it on his largest Anvil, reaching towards his sledgehammer so that he could make the necessary adjustments. He wasn’t sure why Tetsutetsu was bringing you up, but he couldn’t deny his curiosity; he only hoped it wasn’t because he had feelings for you.

 “Strange, don’t you reckon? For a young aristocrat’s daughter, of a marriageable age, to spend all her time in your shop?” Eijiro frowned at Tetsutetsu’s question before hammering the sword in front of him as he needed, using the noise-filled time to think on why his friend was chatting about such a topic; it made no sense to him. None at all.

 “Not really? If you need something, you go get it. Right?” Eijiro grunted with effort, setting the sledgehammer down before moving to dunk the sword in the bucket of cold water nearby, closing his eyes tightly to stop the steam from making his eyes sting; that had been one of the first things he had learnt early on during his apprenticeship days.

 “Really? So, you don’t think it’s odd that she comes in every second day? With a new request, or to pick something up? That she doesn’t just send a butler or a maid to run the errand instead of herself?” Eijiro sighed loudly, lifting the sword from the bucket before putting it down on a nearby bench, turning to face the curious looking Tetsutetsu; unable to focus on his work when you were the topic of conversation.

 “What are you trying to say Tetsutetsu?” His friend scoffed at his question, laughing at the confused expression that Eijiro wore, apparently finding what he had said to be amusing in some way, shape or form; though how, Eijiro wasn’t sure.

 “Tetsutetsu!” The man standing across from him slowly stopped laughing, letting out a sigh as he crossed his arms, observing Eijiro for a moment longer before giving a shake of his head; almost in disapproval.

 “I can’t believe you don’t see it Eijiro…the girl is head over heels for you!” Tetsutetsu’s words had his mouth dropping open in shock, about to protest the idea of such a claim before a frown began to form on his features, his thoughts running over all of his encounters with you; the pieces slowly clicking into place.

 “Well look at that…penny finally drop, did it?” Tetsutetsu grinned, watching Eijiro before chuckling and moving closer, patting the red-head’s shoulder firmly; almost managing to make the strong man stumble. Almost.

 “You should see the look on your face man, it’s priceless!” Eijiro blinked quickly at Tetsutetsu’s words, shrugging off his hand before reaching for the sword he had been working on moments ago, wanting to get the commission finished and now having a good reason to get it done early; he had an interesting conversation to have and little patience to wait for it.

 “Shouldn’t you be at your own shop? Or you gonna give up on your store, come be my apprentice?” Eijiro laughed when he felt Tetsutetsu’s fist against his shoulder, the hit not enough to hurt but enough to make the point that his rival wanted to make; there would be no apprenticeship.

 “Laugh it up, at least I can tell when a woman is interested in me!”

 .

 ~  ~  ~

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“Oh, good morning (Name)! Isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?”

 .

 You jolted in surprise as you stepped into Eijiro’s Blacksmith shop, offering a small smile in greeting to the grinning young man that seemed to be putting the finishing touches on something that you couldn’t quite make out.

 “Good morning, Eijiro…I suppose it might be, but you see, my horses need new shoes and who else could I trust to do such a thing but you?” You tilted your head curiously as he chuckled to himself, looking over at you with a mischievous grin decorating his face; his smile easily reaching his eyes as you so loved to see.

 “New shoes? I can have them done today, my day clears up in a few minutes” Eijiro chuckled at the confused look that formed on your features, finding it to be more than a little adorable; he was still surprised that Tetsutetsu had been right the other week, but now that he was aware of your feelings, it was easy to see.

 “A few minutes? Am I interrupting you then?” He shook his head in response to your question, setting down whatever it was that he had been working on before making his way over to you, his grin still present on his lips.

 “Not at all, I just had something I wanted to ask you” You nodded your head in response to his explanation, a sign for him to go ahead with whatever question the cheerful man had for you; you had no idea what that question might be, but your curiosity was beginning to get the better of you.

 “(Name), would you allow me to court you?” His question immediately threw you off-guard, causing your mouth to drop open in a mild form of surprise before you quickly closed it, covering your mouth with your hand to hide the reaction from him; though it was easy to see that it was too late for that.

 “(Name)? If it’s about your father, I already went and asked him for permission to ask you…apparently being the best Blacksmith in town has its perks” Eijiro chuckled nervously as he rubbed at the back of his neck, anxiously awaiting your response; your silence filling him with unease, fearing your rejection.

 “You…you went to my father? And he didn’t kick you out?” You stared at him incredulously before shaking your head, a soft giggle spilling past your lips. Even though you hadn’t expected Eijiro to go to your father, it was something that shouldn’t have actually surprised you; Eijiro was a hard-working man, an honest and up-front man.

 Visiting your father for permission to request such a thing would be nothing to a man like Eijiro, it was one of the things you loved about him most.

 “No…? I thought he might, but we had a drink together and he asked me some things…in the end, he gave his permission. Ah, but he was very clear that if you rejected me, that would be the end of it” Eijiro shuddered at the memory of his visit to your father, intimidated by the threat that he had been given should he disrespect you in any way, shape or form; however, Eijiro had no plans to do such a thing.

 “How unusual…you’re not the first man to ask him something like that…” You trailed off into a curious whisper before shaking your head to clear your thoughts and stepping closer to the man that held your affections, reaching out to take hold of his warm hands; a soft smile decorating your lips, easing his nerves more than he thought possible.

 “I would love it, if you would court me Eijiro…” Your soft murmur of agreement made his grin return ten-fold before his arms wrapped around your waist gently, a chaste kiss placed to your cheek; thankfully leaving you free of soot as he hadn’t fired up any of his equipment just yet. Unusual for his line of work, but then again, perhaps he had other plans.

 “I promise you (Name), I might not be as wealthy as your family, but I will treat you like a princess!”

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 “Silly man, I care for you just as you are…you don’t need to spoil me for my affections, you already have them.”