#but also my mora is LOW and i don’t have any more of the rocks he needs for his ascensions

[electric-plants]

i’m so annoying like im having so much fun building sethos and i’m really excited to get him all leveled up but then i run out of resin like oh no :( i wanted to keep working on him :( as if i don’t have 64 fragile resin hoarded in my inventory

[nishigo]

an anomaly. // bennett x reader.

a page from the book of memories.

[ p a g e 3 2 9 ｡ ]

authors note: hello! this is my first ever attempt at something for genshin impact. this is longer than i expected, and there may be errors here and there, so i am sorry about that in advance. i do hope you will enjoy it though. i got bennett yesterday after rolling and although many say he’s annoying...he’s very much like me in real life. coincidence? i think not. Σ('◉⌓◉’) i also rolled a girl named keqing. she seems nice, and is a five star, but i don’t know if she’s rare. i truly don’t know how this system works, apologies. T^T anyways, traveler, happy reading. (*'▽'*)

word count : 2191

tw : none that i can think of. very much fluff. and perhaps a touch of a flirty!reader. :)

request status at time of posting : open.

in which he had finally someone who could balance out his unluckiness.

would you like to read?

＞　行｡ ( y e s )

＞　不行 。( n o )

———

Bennett was, to put it simply, confused.

He had just finished a mission with you, being your support the whole entire way through. There had been an offering that had been posted on the tavern’s walls in dark, smudged text that caught his eye at an earlier time. It read that whoever could get rid of the new pop-up hilichurl camp that blocked the path to Liyue would receive a grand sum of Mora. Course, running low on money, Bennett had decided to take up the offer. They would be easy enough to take down, just a simple slash of his sword and a few burns here and there could get the job done in no time. However, there was a problem.

No one would come with him.

Bennett knew that he was very...loud. And he was energetic. And annoying. And, though he hated to admit it...he was unlucky.

Everything seemed stacked up against him. Everyone he turned to in the tavern took a simple glance at him and rejected the offer with no further questions asked. He would try to convince them, but they would simply get more annoyed at his stubbornness and shoo him away with a flick of a hand or some splash of beer to the face. It’s not like he could take the older adventurers out either, they could barely walk on their own two feet. They were so old that they certainly would have shriveled up in the sun if he brought them along. So there that option went, leaving him with practically nothing else to turn to.

But then, if he had no one to go with him, what would happen? Would he continue to be stuck in that tavern? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to waste away like that. He was meant to be out there, in a world that could supply him with the thrill and rush that his heart yearned for. The boy desired to be just as great of an adventurer as the ones who came before him, or perhaps, dare he dream, even greater than them. Bennett desired to be a legend. But being a legend could not be done alone, even if that was what Bennett determined he would forever be, deep in the back of his brain.

Which is why you were such an anomaly.

You were the last person he spoke to that night. He was a complete mess. His shirt was damp with beer and some white wine, his white locks were a birds nest with the goggles sliding off slowly, and his eyes looked devoid of life as he took a deep inhale and they brightened up again. This was his last chance. You were the one who was either going to make or break this plan.

“Hello stranger! I am the great Bennett, and I was wondering if you would be able to help assist me with a mission that was posted on the tavern walls. It’s about the hilichurl camp by Liyue! Although I am rather strong, I need some help so it’s done more efficiently and faster. I’m even willing to split the Mora with you that we make out of it! What do you say?” Bennett recited his lines again, as if he was in an interview of sorts. His leafy green eyes watched as you scrunched up your eyebrows, as if thinking and examining him. Your face was blank other than that, lips in a straight line and hand cupping your cheek. Bennett found it to be quite terrifying. It was such an intimidating look, in fact, that he was about to ask you to forget about it before you spoke first.

“Sure.” You stated simply, a smile forming on your face as you crossed your arms.

“Ahhh, understood, I’ll get goi- WAIT!” The pyro boy turned to look right at you as he gasped. His face was one of shock morphed with a cute, ecstatic look. One could compare it to a puppy of sorts. You were not meant to say yes. You were meant to be like everyone else and reject him. He was dumbfounded as he grabbed a hold of your shoulders and tilted his head.

“You’re not joking?!”

“Course not! Why would I do such a thing?” You rebuked before he giddily jumped up and down while pulling you up to a sweet hug. It was a gentle and firm one, though, he pulled away quickly after realizing he still wreaked of alcohol. You told him you didn’t mind it though, making him rub the back of his head sheepishly and laugh. You two would converse for the night, agreeing to meet up at the gate the next morning so he could lead the way to the camp and also split the mora gained evenly. After the small chat, you would leave the tavern to stay at the local inn for the night and get some rest. Bennett’s eyes were trained on you as the door then closed, realization hitting him like a truck: he found someone. He found a real person to take on a mission. Better yet, they were as gorgeous as they were strong. This was better than any dream he could have made up. Bennett decided he had to turn in for the night soon after you left, taking a spot in his cozy bed under the sheets. His eyes closed as the curtains rustled at the soft wind that blew through the window. The pyro’s last thought before going to bed was that he truly hoped that you would fulfill your end of the deal and show up.

And you kept your promise. You were there as the morning sun rose to reflect your beautiful skin, hair flowing gently in the light breeze as he ran up to you and froze. You looked powerful now that you were out of the tavern and he could see you properly. You had on your adventure gear, dressed appropriately for a mission that required taking out many enemies. What caught his attention, though, was your white cape with golden accents that flowed from behind. Flicking your hood down and off your head, your face was now fully visible as you watched him stare. He was adorable, like a little baby who was just discovering the world for the first time.

“You’re really gonna do this with me?” Bennett asked in wonder. His face was blank as a smirk landed itself on your features. You positioned yourself to stand upright, away from the wall you were leaning on as you held your weapon of choice in your dominant hand. As for the other, you outstretched it towards him with a grin.

“Lead the way.”

Bennett didn’t even have to think twice about it as he eagerly took your hand into his own gloved one and began to lead you out of the city and into the wilderness. He seemed to be very hyper from what you could tell, as he couldn’t seem to stop commenting on how he was destined for greatness, or how thankful he was that you were going to come along with him. He also bombarded you with questions about yourself as well, like if this was your first time in Mondstadt or what kind of element you had control over. He was easily excited, but especially when you told him that you were a traveler that had been moving around place to place to see the sights of the world. It was why you were so strong, you had defeated a wide range of enemies, great and small, on your journeys. Bennett was fascinated by that, drawing him to be more and more curious about you. Alas, the questions and storytelling had to wait. You two had arrived at the camp, and it was time to take some enemies down.

You two ended up making a fantastic duo of sorts. With his sword and experience, he was able to cut down enemies with ease. You did the same, your speed and agility outmatched as you two basically made a massacre out of the camp. His fire would spread through the long grass, and with the natural wind, spread quickly to begin burning it all down. You were quick to come to his aid when he would sometimes get backed against the rocks or a tree, helping him heal with some quick magic you had learned. It wasn’t anything special, but it was enough to keep him up and moving. With such precision and perseverance, your duo was able to defeat the camp with relative ease. However, both you and Bennett were still tired from fighting for so long. You two were out of breath as the fire died out, heaving for air as you gave him a head pat and grinned.

“You did amazing out there. You’re a talented pyro user as well, I’m impressed.” There you went again, making him all confused as he sat there. You just complimented him. A powerful traveler, that has practically defeated every sort of monster there is out there, was impressed by him. Bennett, the unlucky, was impressive? For the first time, he was rendered speechless as he looked at you. It was now night, the moon high in the sky as it illuminated your face. Oh goodness, you looked ethereal. The way the stars were reflected in your eyes, the way the gold of your cape sparkled and flowed behind you, the way you smiled at him, like he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen. The only thing that stopped the comfortable silence between you two was the fact that he shivered when a breeze brushed against his pale, scar littered skin. You snapped out of it and looked him up and down, noticing how a lot of his skin was exposed to the chilly night.

“Here, take this.” You told him as you unbuttoned your cape, taking it off your shoulders. With one swoop, you draped it over his own figure, being as gentle as possible as you buttoned it up again. Bennett was reduced to continuing to stay silent as you clothed him. You placed the hood up on top of his head, a hand on your hip as you grinned at him. It was a bit big on him but nonetheless, it was rather cute. You used your other hand to take his chin gently, making him look you in the eyes. He was rather happy that the hood cast a bit of a shadow, because his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as he was forced to look at you.

“Huh. Looks better on you than it does me.” You commented before he seemed to regain his ability to speak.

“You need this more than me! I-i’m literally a pyro user, I c-can heat myself-” You hushed him, letting go of his chin as you put a finger to his peach pink lips.

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t waste your energy to heat up, especially since we have to walk back to town. I’ll be fine, I’ve been through worse weather situations.” He glanced down at your finger, and then back to you as you dropped your hand and began walking down the path again, back towards the city. Why did you have to be so, so...enchanting? And you were so smooth as well! He had never been so flustered when talking to someone, heck, he was the one who was meant to be doing most of the talking! Though, he supposed that him being talkative didn’t equate to being able to flirt. But something about the thought of you leaving made him pout. It was as if the butterflies were leaving his stomach, but they left him emptier than before.

Bennett refused to be lonely anymore. Not when he had you.

“Hey, darling!~ Would you stop standing there and staring off into space? I know I look wonderful tonight, but we gotta get a move on! We won’t be able to get to town and rest our weary bones if you keep this up!~” You called out to him, making him shake his head and refocus. Right, a bed. Sleep did sound rather good right now, along with a shower and something to quench his thirst. He ran and caught up to you, walking by your side as he grinned. He began to already ask about other missions that the two of you could do together, like gathering supplies for the alchemist or helping around the town for some spare Mora here and there. Bennett then stopped for a moment again, looking at you.

“Would you like to work together again?” There was a moment of silence before you nodded.

“I think I would. We make a great team.” Bennett then continued walking with you, as if time didn’t just stop for a second as he went back to his usual, bubbly nature. The more he thought about it, the happier it made him. More adventures to be made. More memories to be created. All with you at his side the entire time.

And you would make all the difference.

[swiftiesimonriley]

hurts like heaven (divorced! frankie x lawyer! reader)

divorced! frankie x lawyer! reader, silver linings playbook! au

rating: teen (I guess), no explicit content except for drug use

warnings: depictions and descriptions of drug use (if this makes you uncomfortable you may want to skip this one), mentions of divorce and custody battles, mention of time spent in an inpatient behavioral health setting

word count: 3.9k (WHOOPS i got excited)

a/n: I am so excited for my first frankie oneshot!! thank you so much to @hailmary-yramliah​ for this request, I hope you like it!! here is my masterlist, and if you have any requests you can send me an ask! also credit to @hunterschafer​ for the beautiful frankie gif!!

"Mr. Morales, after a thorough review of the details of this case, including but not limited to testimonies of your close friends and NA sponsor, revision of your record, and speaking with the judge who oversaw the suspension of your pilot's license, I have come to the conclusion that you are currently unfit to have full custody of your daughter. I am hereby granting full custody of Eleanor Luciana Morales to her biological mother."

The minute Francisco Morales hears the words of the family court judge before him ruling in favor of his now ex-wife, he nearly passes out.

The former Delta Force soldier vaguely heard the protests of Pope, who is the only person sitting within the rows of seats on the side of the courtroom where he currently resides. He doesn't register his lawyer uttering a half-assed apology or even the cheers from his ex-wife and her family on the other side of the room.

All he hears is white noise as the judge bangs the gavel to settle the room, explaining that Ava now will have primary and sole custody and that Frankie will only be allowed supervised visits with a social worker, and that Ava can take her daughter home today.

Their daughter.

Frankie knows he isn't perfect - fuck, he is far from it but this just seems like a sick joke.

As soon as his license was officially stripped from him, he knew his marriage was over. The tension had started almost a year earlier when Ava suspected Frankie of using, to which he vehemently denied.

Of course, it was true, but how was he supposed to explain and admit to the love of his life that he needed the cocaine flowing through his body in order to feel anything anymore.

Things began to crumble soon after the initial suspicion by Ava. 

The best way Frankie thought to deal with this problem was to put some space between himself and his wife. He didn't want her to see him when he was strung out and begging for one last hit - God forbid his daughter see him like that.

In a way, Frankie was grateful that Ellie was still an infant, and that she would have no memory of the fights he had with her mother over his addiction.

He began staying out late at bars and other places downtown where he knew he could meet his dealer and get more of his fix, trying to keep it as far away from his home as possible. 

After a few drinks and a successful meeting with his dealer, he would make his way home where he eventually came down, the immediate rush of guilt and sorrow filling his heart as he would return home and see the bedroom door was locked, indicating he had to crash on the couch.

It was when he stepped through the threshold of his small cottage that he felt the shame bubble up from deep inside him, knowing that he couldn't just snuggle up next to his wife and pretend things were fine, or even cradle his daughter in his arms and rock her to sleep, as on these nights Ava made sure to keep Ellie in the bedroom with her. 

Those were the nights that haunted him the most.

Breaking Ava's heart was something long in the past - and he knew she wouldn't be able to just forgive him for what he put her through. She was always the one to give people the benefit of the doubt - something he used to tease her about but now feels scorned by. She was the one who stood by him when he admitted he had a problem - giving him support and resources for healing all while lending a helping hand. 

She knew he wouldn't try to harm their relationship on purpose.

But when his use began to impede more on their relationship, Ava put her foot down. She was getting tired of the cycle of hurt that came with each band of withdrawal and promises of this being the "last" time, only to see her husband relapse again and again. She tried her hardest to continue supporting him, her high school sweetheart, but she had reached her limit. She started spending more time with her parents, leaving Ellie in their care for most days so she didn't have to see her father stumble through the door after a night out. 

Two weeks later she served him with the divorce papers.

Frankie knows that he fucked up, be he never meant to harm Ava or Ellie along the way, especially his baby daughter, whose brown eyes were almost carbon copies of his own. He can't even stomach the idea of Eleanor growing up without her father in her life - she is his whole world, and since the day she was born he promised her that he would always be there for her.

But now, his heart aches knowing he is going home to a semi-furnished one-bedroom apartment, no wife or daughter waiting up for him like when he returned from missions or deployment.

Francisco Morales was not one to take the easy way out.

He clutches his patient belongings bag tighly in his right hand as he walks out of the lobby of the inpatient rehabilitation center, scanning the outside pickup area for a familiar truck. After looking around for a moment a truck horn beep startles him, turning to see a familiar mop of black hair peeking out of his truck.

Chuckling to himself, Frankie jogs over to the passenger side and hops in, feeling Pope immediately wrap him tightly in a hug. "I missed you Cat," he murmurs into the pilot's shoulder, giving him a comforting pat on the back before releasing the brown-haired man from his arms.

"I missed you too Santi," Frankie sighs, placing his bag down on the floor at his feet, "I don't know how much longer I could stay there without seeing a familiar face."

Santi lets out a low laugh as he starts up the truck and pulls out of the patient drop-off area before turning onto the main road. The two sit in silence for a few moments as Frankie stretches out his limbs, turning his head to look out the window as they drive down through the city.

The black haired man knows better than to pry and quiz the pilot about his 2 month stay at the local inpatient rehabilitation center. After the fallout of the trial, things got rough really fast. Santi knew deep down there was a chance of relapse, even with Frankie left the courtroom promising that this would never happen again - but it was all too much.

At 3:11 am Santi got a call from Frankie.

By 6:30 the pair were at the very same doors that Frankie had just emerged, with Santi comfortingly rubbing his hand up and down the brunette's back and they waited to check him in and head over to intake.

But Santi doesn't pry.

He just drums a tune on the steering wheel as he continues driving down the main stretch of road in the city. He watches out of the corner of his eye as they get to a red light as Frankie fixes his hair, running his fingers through the brown fringe across his forehead and he lets out a chuckle.

"What's so funny Pope? I don't wanna look like I'm fresh out of the hospital." He huffs, looking over his hair again before closing the mirror.

To say Frankie was nervous was an understatement. He had been out of the hospital for less than ten minutes and he was already on his way to meet a new lawyer. His new lawyer.

The previous week Frankie received a call from Santi during his afternoon rec time. At first he couldn't make out what the other man was saying, he remembers huffing out something the lines of "are you fucking drunk?" but made sure to keep quiet as he knew some people in the rec area didn't take too kindly to brash language.

He then remembers the hearty chuckle on the other end. "No I'm not fucking drunk 'fish, I'm excited! I just ran into one of my old college buddies-"

"Do you mean fuck buddies?" Frankie teases, letting out a quiet laugh as he hears a scoff on the other end of the line.

"No you idiot! I didn't sleep with every girl I knew back then, I know it's hard to believe," Frankie lets out a loud laugh, "I ran into an old friend of mine who went to law school, and let's just say she owes me a favor and she agreed to take on your case! Fish? Frankie?"

The pilot drops the phone as soon as the words are processed.

He has another chance. Another chance to see Ava and his baby girl. A chance to get them both back into his life for good this time, now that he has detoxed and spent his time working on his coping strategies.

They could be back in his arms once again.

"Mr. Morales? Mr. Garcia? She's ready for you."

"It's go time." Santi nods, standing up out of his seat and motioning for the pilot to follow him.

The pair make their way down the white and bright hallways of the law offices, walking past several cubicles full of lawyers and other workers chatting away before coming to an office with a glass door at the end of the hallway.

Frankie nervously plays with his fingers as Santi knocks on the door, hearing a soft "come in" from the otherside.

He follows the black haired man into the office and freezes in his tracks when he sees you get up from your desk and rush to pull Santi into a hug. He tries to keep his eyes from widening like a cartoon character but he can't help it - Santi didn't mention how gorgeous you are.

He listens to you both talk for a few moments before you reach your hand out and introduce yourself, a light smile playing at your lips. Frankie nods and takes your smaller hand in his before watching you go back to your desk. You open your laptop and pull out the file your assistant gathered on the details of the previous case.

"Mr. Mora-"

"You can call me Frankie," the pilot interjects, his cheeks turning red as you nod and take a mental note of that. "Frankie, do you want to start off at the start of your story for me? I always find it more beneficial to ask from the client's perspective about the details of the case, it makes a stronger case," you say, picking up a pen and looking at the brunette sitting across from you.

Frankie lets out a small cough and takes a soft breath in before laying his cards out on the table.

Santi stays quiet in the seat next to him, nodding along at the details of the story and offering a comforting hand on the back as one of his closest friends speaks about some of the darkest points in his life with you as if you have known him as long as you have known him.

It takes about 45 minutes of Frankie's explanations and your questioning to get all of the information you need for the initial meeting, making notes of the progress the pilot has made within the inpatient treatment center as well as Santi's testimony. You put your files away in the folder on your desk and stand up, making your way over to the two soldiers and giving them each a handshake, telling them both that you feel extremely confident in this case, and that you can't wait to help Frankie get his family back.

You can't miss the way he breaks out into a grin, probably one of the first genuine ones in a while, and you see Santi nod his head approvingly at you before giving you a quick "thanks" as the two begin to stand up and walk towards your door. 

Before they leave you quickly call out to Frankie, who turns around quickly and his chocolate brown eyes lock with yours.

"What's your daughter's name?" You ask softly, watching as his posture relaxes at the mention of his pride and joy. He reaches into one of his back pockets of his jeans and pulls out a small photo from his wallet and hands it to you.

You look over the tiny photo - it must have been from the day she was born. Her big brown eyes are the same as her father's, a small smile on her face.

"Her name is Eleanor, Eleanor Luciana," he smiles, a small tear welling up in the corner of his right eye.

A smile plays at your lips as you see the absolute adoration in his eyes as he talks about her.

You know you have to win this case.

You spend the next 3 months prepping for the case.

You know this process is not an easy one, especially for Frankie. At first, he came to your office twice a week in the afternoon right after his NA meetings, most times with Santi in tow. It was awkward at first for sure - I mean it isn't fun working with a lawyer about the bad choices he had made or the fact of the matter that he feels like a piece of him has died since he has been away from his family.

Santi helped ease the tension.

When it got hard for Frankie to talk about some of the details of his drug use, or the fights he had with Ava, Santi was there to help ease the conversation and help Frankie get through it. It helped that the two knew each other like the back of their hands, with Santi being able to crack a joke at a moment's notice and bring the pilot back down to the ground.

It was when Santi brought up old memories of your time back in college that you heard real laughter from the brunette.

They weren't your proudest memories, but the way that Frankie laughed at you and Santi's old college stories brought a smile to your face and gave you a feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you didn't want to go away. You knew deep down you shouldn't feel those butterflies, especially when dealing with a client, but something about the pilot made your heart flutter.

But the minute you would feel the butterflies, like after Frankie gave you a compliment about your outfit, you would feel the guilt wash over you in waves. Frankie was a father, a former husband who was working with you in order to win back his ex. How could you feel this way about a man who was fighting through hell to get his family back.

You were just his lawyer.

Seeing him open up each time he came into your office was something that struck you deep down, knowing that being this vulnerable is something that he doesn't take lightly. 

The two of you continue meeting twice a week after NA, with Frankie telling you about his feelings from his meeting and talking about his goals for this upcoming trial.

You continue preparing him with questions you know will be brought up by the family court judge, focusing on his plans for the future after his discharge from the inpatient center, focusing on the changes in behavior he has made of the past few months. His answers become more confident the harder you work, and you feel your heart start to swell as he talks about how excited he is to see his baby girl again.

But you also feel pain in your heart at the thought of the man before you leaving your life after this week.

It's the Friday night before the trial, a night you typically take off early on, but tonight is different.

Frankie was sitting here in your office earlier this week when he casually mentioned that he was getting his 6 month sober chip on Friday. Upon hearing this news you gasp and stand up from your desk, your feet carrying you over towards him before you could even register what you are doing - suddenly you realize that you have pulled him into your arms.

Frankie is shocked at first, a small "oof" escaping his lips as you held onto him, but he is grateful you cannot see the blush rising on his cheeks.

You quickly pull yourself back and subconsciously smoothing out your light green work pants before taking a step back. "I'm so proud of you 'Cat, that's so amazing!" You smile, brushing a piece of hair back behind your ear.

The pilot nods, a small smile playing at his lips.

"How about you come here on friday. You, me and Santi can have some pizza and a beer to celebrate," you suggest, watching as Frankie furrows his brow before letting out a chuckle.

"You don't ask all of your clients to have a pizza party in your office after hours do you?" He laughs, taking his hat off and fixing his brown locks before sliding it back on his head.

"I can't say that I do, but this is what Santi and I would do back in the day to celebrate, so why not celebrate this achievement before we get in the courtroom." 

You chuckle, remembering the days spent in the shitty apartment Santi had off campus. "Alright I'm in." Frankie smiles, "I'll bring the beers."

That night the three of you sit on the floor of your office like kids and chuckle at old stories, both from college and from the boy's times spent overseas. You watch as Frankie laughs at something Santi says and you feel the pain in your heart return, knowing that in a few short days your client would be back to his old life, and you would be stuck here back in the real world at your job. You know it's wrong, but these past months have been different than any other case you have taken on.

You know Frankie is going to be able to go back to his family after all of this - he is stronger than when this whole ordeal started and he has the support to prevent another relapse. 

Hell, you are proud of him outside of work, knowing this process wasn't easy - but the idea of this man walking out of your life brings you sadness. Knowing he won't be in your office twice a week for hours, cracking jokes and talking about nothing in particular towards the end. 

Sometimes you wonder what things would be like if you met under other circumstances. Maybe you two would have a shot - walking hand in hand at the local farmer's market, singing karaoke at the bar with Santi, Benny and Will, or even going on a flight with him.

You even opened up to him, telling him things even Santi doesn't know. But you need to remember why you are here - to win this for your client.

"Mr. Morales, after going over the details of this case, I see the dedication you have made towards your rehabilitation and future. I have talked with the treatment team at Maple Grove rehabilitation as well as your NA sponsor, and based on all of the information I have gathered is that you are fit to have custody of your daughter. You will now have shared custody of Eleanor Luciana Morales."

Before you can properly process the words of the judge, you feel two strong arms wrap around your torso and lift you in the air. You feel a blush come over your cheeks as you hear Frankie saying "thank you" over and over again as he sets you back down on the ground.

You both simultaneously pull back and hide your blushes as you thank the judge for his discretion and you faintly hear the bang of the gavel in the background as the court is dismissed.

You don't miss the way Ava storms out of the courtroom with her family and you have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes. Santi walks over to the two of you and pulls you both into a hug, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down your back and thanking you for everything you did.

You nod as Santi pulls back and turns to his brother in arms, chatting about something you can't quite hear as you begin to pack up your white briefcase, pausing when you see a photo of Ellie on the table.

Since the beginning of the trial Frankie felt the nerves wash over him as this suddenly felt so real. You had suggested that he bring in a picture of Eleanor to place on the table so that whenever he became nervous, he could look down and see who he was doing this all for. Seeing the photo now brings tears to the corners of your eyes and you close up your briefcase - turning around to see that Santi has left the courtroom, just leaving you and Frankie.

"I just wanted to say thank you, for everything," he says softly, nervously scratching at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You nod curtly, trying to ignore the sore feeling in your throat - a telltale sign that you were about to cry.

Frankie tilts his head in confusion and walks closer, reaching out and grabbing your smaller hands in his. "I mean it - you have helped me through this whole process, and you are the reason I get to see Eleanor again, and for that I cannot thank you enough."

His words cut through you like knives - you knew this was coming. Your job is over, and it's time for him to move on.

"All in a day's work," you chuckle quietly, having to look down at your shoes to avoid letting the tears fall.

You suddenly feel softy fingers tilt your head up. Blinking through your lashes you see the pilot looking at you with only adoration in his eyes. You lock onto his chocolate orbs and nod slightly as he moves closer, softly crashing your lips against his.

You feel his strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling him flush against his chest in a soft yet comforting way. You find yourself getting lost in the moment, one of your hands tangling in his hair as he pushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

A moment later you both pull away, leaning your forehead against his as he lets out a small chuckle.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," he smiles, locking eyes with you once again, "I had to wait until I wasn't your client anymore, I didn't want to make it awkward or unethical."

You smile at his confession, brushing a piece of his brunette locks out of his eyes.

"Well now that you are no longer my client, would you like to go grab a beer?" You ask, looking at the way his eyes light up at your question.

"I would love that."

He watches as you grab your briefcase and wraps an arm around your waist as the two of you head for the courtroom doors.

He feels his heart swell in his chest knowing he not only has Eleanor back in his life, but now he has you too.

taglist: @hailmary-yramliah​ @babyprim​ @shadowolf993​ @jasterslegacy​ @collectorofexperiences​

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name, and I’ll Be There: 2.2

"We're here," Zhongli nodded approvingly as he soaked in their surroundings.  "The hidden pools of Huaguang Stone Forest."

"I never would have guessed something like this was hidden here," Aether marveled at the sight before him.  "This world truly is beautiful."

Indeed it was.  Zhongli had led them to an underground cavern that held glowing pools of water.  The space was illuminated by tens of geo crystalflies floating about, mostly because they didn't know the way out of the cave.  The entrance was at the base of one of the several stone pillars erected into the sky, hidden behind layers of vine.

"Paimon didn't know this existed, either!" Her eyes sparkled as bright as the crystalflies.  "Could you imagine how much mora could be made off of this tourist spot?!"

"These mineral pools date back several millennia.  Many gods used to use this as a sort of vacation spot or to heal injuries received from battles--"  He turned to look at you, "--which is why I thought to bring you here.  The medicinal properties of these pools will remove any lingering soreness in your leg."

"T-thank you, Mr. Zhongli."  You bowed, your face heating up from the awkwardness you felt.

"It's a little warm in here, don't you think?"  Childe pulled at his collar with annoyance.  He had returned from his homeland in order to travel with Aether, so he was still getting adjusted to the warmer weather of Northern Liyue.  Sweat dripped from his brow.

"Indeed, the spring months have begun to warm the cavern.  In the summer, it acts as a sauna." Zhongli removed his gloves and trailed his fingers across the surface of the water.

"Well it's a good thing it's not summer," Childe let out a laugh of relief.  He started unbuttoning his top and removed it altogether.

"T-tartaglia!" You yelped and hurriedly faced the opposite direction.  "You can't just--"  Your objections were interrupted by Zhongli and Aether also removing their shirts.  "You too?!"

"Paimon doesn't see the problem! They're baths, right?"

"Paimon is correct.  Is it not common courtesy to remove one's clothes to bathe and relax?"  Zhongli retied his hair and looked at you from his peripheral vision.  

"I-I mean...you're right, but..."  Your eyes landed on Xiao, who was the only one of your teammates that kept their clothes on.  "I'm the only girl on the team and--"

"I'll cut them if they so much as look in your direction," Xiao conjured his lance and set it beside him to prove he was serious.

"We wouldn't do that!" Aether winced at the echoed sound of the lance hitting the stone floor.  He hopped into one of the three luminescent pools.

Zhongli was indifferent as he lowered himself into another one of the pools.  He watched the crystalflies floating around before closing his eyes.  Childe, on the other hand, scoffed at Xiao.

"I see what you're doing, yaksha.  Trying to play the nice guy so you can get a peek for yourself, are you?"  Sharp eyes lingered over Xiao.

Xiao didn't take the bait and remained silent.  He knew all too well what the Harbinger was trying to do.  

"Hmph.  Thought so," Childe resumed his normal composure and joined Zhongli in the pool.

"You should get in.  You won't have to ride my back anymore."  Xiao briefly glanced your way before picking his lance up and facing the pools to make sure no one--mainly Childe--would try to watch you.

"O-okay," you hesitantly began to move.  You hid behind a large slate of rock and removed your clothes with unsteady hands.  Once down to your underwear, you quickly moved to the empty pool with your back facing your teammates.  You pulled your knees to your chest since the dim light of the cavern was still bright enough to illuminate your bare skin.  

The water was as clear as glass, and you could see a faint blue glow around your wound that was coupled with a ticklish tingling.  The dull ache was gone in nearly an instant.  You were too busy staring at the glowing water to notice that Paimon had joined you.

"Wow, so it really works! Paimon loves this place!"  She plopped herself into the water fully dressed without a care in the world.  "Hey Xiao, are you gonna join the rest of us?"

"I have no need for this luxury," he answered.

"Vigilant Yaksha," Paimon muttered under her breath.

"Paimon! The cabbages!" Aether warned.

"Oh! Uh, right!  Sorry Xiao!"

"This is nicer than I expected," Childe sunk into the pool until only his head remained above water.  "I can feel all the tension leaving my body."

"Yes, it is quite relaxing."  Zhongli answered without opening his eyes.

You finally gathered the courage to ask yourself.  "Are you sure you don't want to join us, Xiao?  It's nice to relax every once in awhile."

"I...have no need."  Childe and Zhongli picked up on the hesitant answer, the latter finally opening his eyes to sneak a peek at Xiao's face.  Did his resolve just weaken over the fact that it was you who asked him?  The yaksha stood up straighter as if he noticed Zhongli's thoughts.  "It is not in my contract with Rex Lapis. I will do no such thing."

Zhongli let out a low chuckle at this.  "Very well then."

I guess it was worth a try, you thought to yourself, still oblivious to the fact that Xiao had actually considered your proposal.  Wait, why did you feel bummed out from his answer?  It wasn't like you were trying to get him naked--though the thought did bring a blush to your cheeks.  

A splash to the back of your head interrupted your embarrassing thoughts.  "Hey!"  You spun around and peeked over the small wall that acted as the barrier for the next pool over.  Childe was grinning mischievously at you.

"Why don't you join us over here?"

"No thank you!"  You flushed red and sunk back into your pool.  You knew he got a rise out of messing with you.  Another splash of water enveloped you.  "Childe, I swear--"

"Oops," he said unconvincingly.

You nearly got up to splash him back, but stopped yourself just before you rose over the wall--you realized you'd be giving every guy in the room a sight to behold if you went through with your revenge.  You returned to your original position with a huff.  "Ugh, just screw off and let me be already!"

So that's the angle you're playing at, Xiao narrowed his eyes at the Harbinger.  Since he was still standing in the same spot, he accidentally got a view of your side rising out of the water.  "I suppose I'll join you after all."

"Oh?" Zhongli opened one eye to address the adeptus.  "What changed your mind?"

"Nothing."

You blushed and looked the other way as Xiao removed his clothes and joined the pool they were in.  He sat so that he was the closest one to you, with your backs facing one another.  He had conveniently sat in Childe's line of fire so he couldn't provoke you further.  A cold look passed over the Harbinger's face before he looked away.

Xiao's actions didn't go unnoticed by the previous Geo Archon.  Zhongli could feel the tension between his subordinate and the Fatui agent and closed his eyes once again.  She may not have noticed, but Xiao has grown rather fond of her these past few months.  His actions speak more than he does.  He stole a peak at the annoyed Harbinger.  This may pose problems for the group though...this may ignite a fuse.  Or perhaps he has another motive for antagonizing the girl?

[reinepadova]

To Be Seen

[←Previous]  | Chapter 3 |  [ Next → ]

‘A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.’ Will I be able to hear yours?

It's almost sunrise. Mei might wake up soon.

Stella let out a short, measured breath, wiping a hand on her skirt to get rid of the excess dust – and slime death, she mused in mild satisfaction – before reaching up to get to the next ledge.

Sudden tremors made her freeze. Her thoughts race at the impossibility of another attack when an ocher column emerged horizontally next to her with a small blast. She sighed.

How could I forget.

She shot steely eyes up, narrowing at the glowing horn tips peaking over the edge of the mesa, with the creature attached to them no doubt resting luxiously at the top while waiting patiently for her to complete her ascension.

They've been over this. It's like the creature's ears are merely decoration with how much it doesn't listen to her. “Mr. Guardian. Please. We're absolutely close now. As helpful as you have been, its time you return to protecting your area. Trouble won't find me again this time. I am sure of it,” she stressed, forcing more confidence in her voice than what she actually feels. She ignored the aches and pains in muscles she wasn't aware she had. Stubborn creature. Why won't it leave her alone?

Silence met her for a long minute, making her perk up.

Is it finally considering? Thank the ski –

A low, dismissive grunt and a visible snout, tilted upwards, made her eyebrow twitch and her whole body deflate. She pursed her lips, reluctantly pulling herself on the resonating stone with a wary eye, dusting her hands absently as she stood. When she turned bland eyes at the creature, calm amber orbs met her.

A tense stillness lingered, an edge of pressure settling in her chest as she maintained eye contact. Wills battled like an Electro Crystal, shocking and numbing you when you get in the way. It lasted for a long moment before the serpentine thing shook its mane once, flicking its tail broadly at her, reminiscent of how she would wag her finger at Mei after getting caught doing mischief. Stella fumed, eyes sharpening like daggers at the condescension.

They've been like this all evening until the early morn: her, trying to discourage it from following – nay, 'guiding' her way – while it persistently stuck at her side, snout prodding at her leg intermittently before pointing at another way. Admittedly, the turns and drop points it led to made the journey back easier – and safer – keeping well away from the groups of snoozing chubby geo energy.

When she tried to outrun it – after gesturing in appropriate gratitude, like how the people of Liyue would  –  its body coiled before spiraling up, graceful and grand, into the air, golden spikes shining against the moonlight, before facing her, eyeing her smugly, gaze now level with her own. Stella felt the heavy weight of her bag on her tired shoulder again as the floating guardian cruised easily, nudging her shoulder this time to another path unknown but undoubtedly still safe. Her patience grew thin, like waves eroding stone on the shore.

Stella squared her stance, determined to argue her case for the final time. “Look. I appreciate your guidance. But I just need to go over this hill and up to the Chief's residence. See those steps? They lead right up to it. So with all due respect, I request we part ways here. I'm sure you have better things to do than keep me company.” Mr. Guardian only blinked back, ever stoic, ever steadfast, like the rocks and gems it so resembles.

A different angle then? Stella cleared her throat, softening her tone. “As grateful as I am by your...escort, that place needs your attention more than me. Isn't that why you lingered? I'm not even one of the residents. I'm a complete stranger to these parts. You know this, yes? I won't loiter, I promise. I'll be on my way right after I get my charge. So just... ,” she huffed lamely, throwing a careless gesture behind them before climbing the final stretch to the hilltop, feeling the burn of golden orbs on her downturned face. An unusual sliver of guilt and sorrow grew, her heart thudded painfully with the weight of her emotions and the flash of dark memories.

In her world, all she knew was solitude. The discover of her unique blood, after an experiment gone wrong, made her both the target of envy, and adoration within their clan. An unholy reverence surrounded her person that no one is allowed to reach, to interact – less her value lessens.

If she bore children while in her 'highest' state – a form that fills her with self-loathing – she will produce perfection – or so her relatives would justify. Her descendants will be strong, beautiful, flawless. They can never succumb to any illness deadly to man, and will endure life with longer vitality. Her songs can soothe and heal, whether they be as benign as cuts and scratches, or as ruinous as broken bones or scalded skin.

Nothing is impossible – especially if you disregard the fact she'll feel the pain as each broken seam would stitch back together, each regeneration and painful growth slicing deep.

Hers was a life generations of her family has sought for, has craved for.

The power at their fingertips... no matter the cost...

She's the perfect bargaining chip... until she isn't.

I made sure of it.

Stella absently stroked at her abdomen, glancing at Mr. Guardian, eyes turning thoughtful as she focused on the present.

Nevertheless, no matter how less lonely she felt on the walk back to Qingce Village, she's not exhausted enough to forget her senses. She could just imagine how bizarre the sight of her will be entering the quiet settlement, a floating serpent at her side. The sight of gleaming claws and sharp teeth will cause a stir. And she's no fool. No matter how...subdued it seems, the power pouring out of its scales could not be ignored or understated. It's small stature is no doubt a front of what its truly capable of. It must be a guardian for a reason.

But, as intimidating as it may be, she felt... protected while in its presence. Safe. It's... nice.

However –

I can't get used to it. I just can't afford to.

If her guess was correct, the guardian is bound to this place, like all the other stone statues dotting in and around the village. As secure as she felt knowing someone, or something, will have her back, she knows once she and Mei returns to the harbor, she'll be the one to take care of things. She'll be the one that needs to do the protecting.

Until... until Mei is of age. Maybe have a family of her own. Someone else would cherish and protect her. And she'll... after that...

After that –

Stella minutely shook her head, stopping herself from letting her heartache show.

She won't linger on the thought, on the maybes or whatifs. That future is still so far away, so uncertain.

Even though she knows her future is uncertain –

Until then, I need to make sure Gran-gran's send off goes well. I just have to deal with life, one day at a time.

She eyed Mr. Guardian again, who remained unmoved, with a golden gaze both ominous and resolute. Its body was poised yet rigid, telling her how adamant the creature was about sticking with her until her journey's end.

She turned her head away, brows furrowing at the sight of orange light peaking at the distance, thoughts racing. The village may be full of the elderly and children, but they're hardworking, morning people, that rise with the sun. Spotting her and her unusual companion wouldn't be difficult. And because its full of the elderly and children, panic might erupt, causing unnecessary damage she knows she won't be able to compensate while already running low on energy – and mora. The Glaze Lilies she worked so hard for might also get lost in the process.

In short, not hiding the creature will be a hassle. And lastly –

Stella studied the stubborn creature as she rested a hand on her hip. A finger, tapping. “Alright, fine. You want to know why I don't want you going with me?” It tilted its muzzle, eyes turning intrigued. “I'm not exposing Mei to you. I promised to protect, and care for her. She already has enough heart ache as it is. I don't want her getting a heart attack from being face to face with something that has deadly claws and fangs.”

-{-}-

Golden orbs widened, thrown off guard by the admission – or was it a threat – the dig of claws on the ground easing. After a long moment, Morax could not help but chuff – the only way he could show amusement in this form – with eyes closing in relief, and great sympathy.

To protect with resolution. To uphold that which one has agreed upon with conviction –

The siren is more like a geode then. Many layers still guard her crystalline core.

He blinked, considering.

Morax then shook his mane, dismissing her worries gently, before floating up back at her side. He made one of his whiskers drift up, waiting until the lady directed her perplex eyes on him, before tapping at the end of her nose, chuffing slowly. She let out an indignant, but charming squeak, dispelling from the morose aura she surrounded herself in. He stretched out, encircling her form with his, and nuzzled softly at her shoulder. He paused, giving her time to make up her mind, before curling up more when he felt curious fingers slowly pet at his scales.

There is only so much he could do with this form, a far cry from the freedom that speech has granted him in his other when negotiating or imparting knowledge. It is... different, but not an unwelcome experience. He could only hope she is lucid enough to understand his meaning: comprehension, compassion, and comfort. For not only does he want any innocent under his watch, directly or indirectly, to go unscathed, but also to sate the growing curiosity he has for such an interesting entity – is she of the divine? Is she only mortal, but not of this world?

Will she be a threat to his Liyue?

He may yet know. Maybe not for a long time. But until then, he will oversee, he will keep watch – just as he has done for more than the past three millenia.

Hm. How peculiar. The thought seems... heavier, somehow.

Ah. He could feel the weight of her stare, full of disbelief. He refrained from snorting, giving her more time to digest that he's not just all brawn, unyielding like the Ice Crystals in Dragonspine. He can be as soft as clay when the need arises.

Eventually, her shoulders sagged, wordlessly admiting defeat. He closed his eyes again, satisfied.

Never has his persuasions failed. He is not about to break his record now.

-{-}-

Arriving at Granny Ruoxin's was easier than Stella thought, the sun barely peaking over Mt. Qingce. All was still and quiet, except for the bubbling waters and creaking wood from Ms. Bai's mill. She hurried, self consciously sneaking glances around her.

The moment they arrived at the steps, she turned and place her bag down, opening the flap.

“Inside,” she gestured with a pointed finger, raising a brow when the creature blinked back. “Since you seem unbothered of revealing yourself to people, I assume they're used to you here. But Mei isn't. I prefer controlling how you two would meet, even though its the Lilies I want to show her more.”

When the guardian narrowed its eyes, seeming to think it over, Stella closed her own, running a hand through her hair, channeling what remains of her composure.

Feeling movement and the soft brush of fur, Stella snapped her eyes open, seeing the guardian's tail curl up over the glowing blooms before settling, remaining still, like a large coil of braided rope around a wooden pole – except its a rock-like creature surrounding delicate little flowers. It's quite an enchanting sight.

Eyes softening, a small smile finally graced her tired face. “Thank you, Mr. Guardian.” She chuckled at the muffled, reply snort.

-{-}-

“You're back! Bekfast is ready~ Look! Mei helped Chief-dàmā lots!”

Mission failed.

Stella smiled, blank face a front to the series of fluctuating emotions coursing through her body. She watched the energetic girl stop long enough to set the table, tongue sticking out in concentration, before  hopping back over to Granny Ruoxin.

“Don't just stand there, young lady. Dust yourself off and eat your fill. Little Mei has been excited to let you try her, ah, version of the Noodles with Mountain Delicacies,” the village chief crooned, eyeing her bag speculatively, but otherwise said nothing else about her night run.

“Yes. I'll, ah, go do that,” she muttered, facing forward to hide her back better. Its either Mei thought I was out early morning, or she's more perceptive and more understanding than a little girl should be. Her shoulders sagged again. She's maturing too fast.

When the busybodies turned back to coo excitedly at the stove, Stella mutely trudged to the next room, arms hugging a few choice items she snatched from a basket on the way.

Shutting the door with a soft kick, she kneeled at a corner, arranging the apples and sunsettias in a neat pile before shouldering her pack down. Star dotted orbs welcomed her at the opened flap, before a long muzzle slipped out, sniffing curiously at her offering. She hummed, “It's not much, I know. Unfortunately, the meat can't go missing before breakfast.” Stella stood, wetting a clean cloth nearby to scrub at her dusty face. “You prefer that don't you? With those teeth, you're definitely a predator. Or are you one of those spirits that prefer something exotic? Like a dish with fins or tentacles or – ” The creature reared back, snout scrunching in offense. Stella stifled a giggle, surprised at the unusually strong reaction.

Looks like its not made of rocks after all.

She quickly moved behind a screen, both to hide her amusement and freshen up. “That's good to know then. We're a long ways away from the sea. Just thinking about going to the harbor and back here is already exhausting.” She waited until she heard the telltale crunch of fruit being consumed before taming her hair, and using another cloth to wipe at herself as best she could.

“Lala? Lalaaa! You're taking so long. Mei's food will go cold!” A loud bang and the rush of small feet, which skid to an abrupt halt, silence following right after. Stella knitted her brow, confused, before her eyes widened, struggling against her clothes, sweating again for an entirely different reason.

-{-}-

In the many years Morax has existed, conquering all that oppose him, that threaten the safety of his chosen land, he fought foes that would otherwise destroy the very flesh and bones of beings made less than the divine. He subdued those that were as fierce and explosive as lava, that were dark and deceitful as magma, and those that were as cold and savage as the wild waters of the seas.

But the age of gods and monsters have passed, and a new age arose. A prosperous age. An eon of peace, much soughtafter. An era where the fragile could grow freely, in between the cracks of devastation and desolation. To spread their reach, and flourish. To learn. To improve. To create. To thrive and beautify, until those years of senseless destruction is but a distant memory, a myth, to be debated until the sands of time bury it completely.

A time now, where a tiny babe could boldly approach him, awe and amazement coloring her diminutive features, before gesticulating in proper, albeit clumsy courtesy. A whispered “Bìxià” solemnly left her lips. He rested on his haunches, blinking slowly, before nodding in acknowledgement. The child suddenly turned away, as if nothing had happened, inquisitively digging through the opened pack. She squealed, understanding immediately where the glowing is coming from.

Such splendid manners from a child so young. Sharp as a blade, but still so carefree. She is well cared.

Before long, the Miss... Lala was it? – or was this just a demonstration of the child's affection to the lady? – stumbled from behind the privacy divider, stuttering an explanation for his presence. She stopped at the child's happy sounds, eyes wide. Her shoulders relaxed as he continued to eat his humble meal, eyes closing to hide his amusement.

Ha! So even a fiery siren such as she can lose composure. Fascinating.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

[←Previous]  | Chapter 3 |  [ Next → ]

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A/N: I don’t know why I’ve agonized over this chapter. Mostly about how Zhongli should be addressed. Ah well~

[colonel-killa-bee]

Red Mountain, the Towers, and Solstheim

Had a late night lore discussion with a friend and I came upon an interesting idea involving the Nords of Solstheim, the Dunmer of Solstheim, and Red Mountain.

It started by us complaining about how soft and kinda lame the Nords in Solstheim are in comparison to Blood Moon in Morrowind the game. The Skaal are kinda like Nordic hippies, and they only really seem to have Frea as the badass armored Nord warrior, and she’s the only one you see with any sort of Stalhrim. Same goes for the other major group of Nords you see, they got kicked out of their own mead hall by a bunch of fucking reiklings XD. Seriously, what a bunch of milkdrinkers.

Then in my sleep deprived mind I started thinking about the symbolism of that in comparison to the land itself. The Nord way in both Skyrim and Solstheim is very much under attack, and if you wanna get real meta about it and talk about Snow Throat, you could say that’s intentional. But keeping it just to Solstheim, we know that it used to be covered in snow and ice, but now suddenly that the Nords have given it to the Dunmer people, the ash from Red Mountain is slowly changing the land to be more like that of Morrowind itself...

ESO introduced the idea that Towers could terraform the land based on the wants of the people that inhabited it and were linked to it... couple that with the fact that the Nord’s way of like there on that rock is slowly dying out... the Skaal are very low in number, their last secrets at last are discovered by Hermaeus Mora, hell, even the Reavers are no longer Nords?! Which makes sense since the Nord population dropped, so of course now its the Dunmer doing the reaving but that’s my point.

I don’t know if it was intentional but if you combine what’s going on with what ESO said, you could literally take it as Red Mountain is basically helping the Dunmer to fully claim the land that was given to them both literally and symbolically. Even if the Dunmer there do complain a bit about all the ash, it’s what they’re accustomed to. Their whole thing is getting stronger through adversity. This would suggest that the Towers aren’t literally just there as an easy cop out to explain why there’s no jungles in Cyrodiil, but that just maybe, someone in Bethesda was smart enough to very veery subtly show us how the Towers work gradually and in a way you’d barely notice over time.

If I wanted to get really meta and crazy, I’d suggest that the towers effect the people in other ways too possibly that help them against other races and nations in a way previously unseen. Like a passive strength boost or something, and that’s why the Nords are doing so poorly lately. If the theories are right and Nord culture literally is tied to Snow Throat itself, then things like Talos worship being under siege, Imperialism, the Way of the Voice and the Thu’um itself being almost forgotten besides a handful of people, it all shows just how important all that truly is. 

You could even look at the Dragonborn, the thu’um’s return, the dragons, all of it as like a gasping breath of the collective Nord people and Skyrim trying to survive all the harsh changes of late.

And if you’re still reading and I haven’t lost you, it also puts in perspective just how devastating the Altmer losing Crystal-Like-Law really was, or why the White Gold Tower having the amulet of kings be destroyed was immediately followed by the Thalmor threatening their people and beating them at every single turn and of course the death of the last Septim and the death of the true third empire.

Bad things immediately follow from the deactivation of a tower, not just on a metaphysical level and the stability of Nirn, but to the people themselves. 

This got long, sorry. Can’t believe all that came just from a small observation that probably wasn’t that deep tbh lol, it is Bethesda after all XD 

[starmoraquills]

lullabies

hey, so this is kinda in response to this and also as a prompt i came w during work!! :) i have this headcanon that sometimes peter sings to baby groot to calm him down and gamora thinks it’s REALLY attractive. hope you guys enjoy :)

summary: rocket can’t get groot to stop crying, so peter thinks back to what comforts him the most when he’s distressed. gamora and peter mom/dad fEELS.

**********

“Psst, hey,” Rocket whispers, shaking Peter awake.

It takes a minute, but he eventually stirs, grumbling incoherently at being woken from such good slumber. He rolls over, glaring at his furry friend for waking him up. Rocket quickly disregards the glare, though, for there's something important at hand.

Outside of the door, a loud, familiar crying echoes down the hall. Peter sits up, eyebrows furrowing quizzically.

“Look, normally I can handle the li’l twig on my own, but he's been cryin’ for frickin’ three hours now, and I'm not sure why. He won't talk!”

Peter nods sleepily, climbing out of bed. Beside him, Gamora also stirs a little, peeking her eyes open ever so slightly. She watches as he gets up, sliding on a pair of clothes since all he usually sleeps in is his boxers. The both of them are bickering among themselves in a quiet voice; she almost makes out Peter hushing him as to not disturb her rest. It's a bit too late for that, though. Still, quite considerate of him. She watches as they exit the room, weighing whether or not to follow them to see what Groot’s crying about.

They both enter the lengthy hallway of the Quadrant, what separates the captain’s quarters to the rest of the rather large ship. The sleeping quarters for everyone else is merely a stairway down, and that's where Groot is at. In Rocket’s room, wailing uncontrollably atop a pillow. Peter takes a seat on the bed beside him.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles loud enough over his crying.

Groot quiets down a little and gazes at Quill. Each of the Guardians have a parental role for him, and Peter’s is always a bit more gentler. Perhaps it stems from the fact that he's never had a father himself, and from a young age he knew that if he was to ever become a dad, he'd be the best he could be.

He watches as Groot’s crying settles a little. His lips still quiver, tears still falling down his cheeks, but Peter has an excellent calming effect. He wipes away the stray tears as softly as possible with his index finger.

“Please don't cry,” Peter coos. “I hate it when you cry, buddy.”

Despite Peter’s calming aura, Groot doesn't cease crying. He merely scrubs his tiny hands across his small, wooden cheeks, sobbing a little harder. It was a pitiful attempt at consoling.

In the doorway, Gamora stands. She had decided to climb out of bed and check on the boys. She watches as the two of them scramble to make silly faces or try to talk of happy things to get him to calm down. They even try to bribe him with candy, a failed attempt. Eventually, she gets tired of hearing the crying, and the boys failing time and time again to get him to stop. She strides across the room, kneeling down to Groot’s level.

The little tree reaches his hands up towards her, and she carefully picks him up, cradling him against her. His crying still hasn't stopped, though -- it's merely muffled against her chest now.

“How do you get babies to stop crying on Terra?” she suggests to Peter, gently patting Groot’s back.

“Hmmm,” Peter yawns, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

He hasn't considered using Earth traditions for something like Groot. Odd, as he uses terran references on any given thing. His mind reels back, trying to remember things his mother would do for his crying baby cousins when they visited. The only real thing his mind can come up with is music. It's also something that's obviously been soothing to him through the years.

Peter stands, going to Gamora’s side. He wraps his arms around her waist, and starts to gently sway her and Groot. He starts singing any nursery rhyme he can recall, his voice soft and low against Gamora’s neck, close to Groot’s ears. The twig inevitably starts to calm down as he listens to Peter’s singing, the slight rocking motion also calming his nerves in Gamora’s grasp.

Gamora looks at Peter, eyes starstruck by how pretty his voice is. Sure, he's sung many times in their time together, but she's never heard his voice so calm, so caring. Drowsy, peaceful, the sleepiness in it providing just the right notes. He's also smiling as he sings, his green eyes crinkled with genuine love sparkling in them. His gaze is just as soft as his voice. Honestly, this is probably one of the most attractive sides to him.

She almost finds herself getting sleepy, too, with the way he sways them in rhythm with the quiet singing.

Groot’s crying finally falls to a quieter whimper and he yawns against his surrogate mother Gamora. His little eyes fall shut, he stretches, and sprawls more comfortably in her arms. The little guy finally falling into a restful night’s sleep.

“Finally, some damn peace and quiet,” Rocket grumbles.

“Uh -- you're welcome?” Peter returns.

Gamora hushes the both of them to keep Groot from waking up again.

She gently places him back on his pillow before returning to Peter’s welcoming arms. His arm wraps around her waist, hand resting on her hip as the three of them watch Groot sleep.

“Maybe he had a nightmare?” Peter speculates.

Rocket shrugs. “No idea, the li’l twirp wouldn't talk. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.”

“He's been through so much,” Gamora chimes in. “I wouldn't doubt it.”

“Yeah, well, he has nothing to be afraid of with us by his side,” Rocket says, almost uncharacteristically sincere.

“Definitely.” Quill yawns then, slowly pulling his beautiful girlfriend with him towards the door. “Well, you're welcome for the help. Me and ‘Mora are goin’ back to bed.”

“Ugh, yeah, whatever. It was gross watching you lovebirds anyways.”

She rolls her eyes at that. What a weird way of showing it, but he's definitely grateful.

“Goodnight, Rocket.”

**********

As Peter and Gamora settle back in bed, she stops him momentarily, eying him in a way that makes him swallow thickly. She places a hand on his cheek, pulls him closer. Absently, she bites her lips a little feverishly. Her thoughts full of how great he was with little baby Groot.

“You'd make an excellent father, Peter.”

He blushes, cheeks hot at the compliment and the way she's staring at him.

“I -- um -- it's just I've never had a father, so I don't want Groot feeling that way, either. It's a shitty feeling.”

She nods, understanding the feeling. Thanos wasn't exactly dad of the year. She pulls him down for a kiss, soft and sensual, pouring her love for him in it. While their relationship has had a rough past and bumpy road, she feels real lucky to be with someone as loving and caring as Peter. Taking his top lip into her mouth, she combs through his curly hair, fingers hooking into them as she deepens the kiss.

Peter’s eyes are wide open and starstruck, amazed at having the deadliest woman in the galaxy kiss him like this. He's not sure what exactly brought this all on, but damn, it was good. Eventually, his eyes flutter shut, relishing the kiss while it's happening.

But not soon after, they break apart, quietly gasping for air. Gamora allows herself one last comb through his adorable ginger curls. He has such a goofy look on his face, and it warms her heart. She smiles softly at him, then leans onto his chest, snuggling close.

“Goodnight, Peter.”

Peter sighs deeply, still in awe by the kiss. “Yeah, goodnight, babe.”

[x0401x]

GOUACHE Members interview

Jin’s solo interview || Sidu’s interview || Original (full translation under the cut)

“Kagerou Daze -in a day’s-” is a bodily sensation-type 4D short movie, which was released in the second theater system of the national-wide TOHO Cinemas on November 4th in MX4D™. The movie’s opening theme song, “RED”, made by the creator of “Kagerou Project”, Jin-san – who is not only its lyricist and composer, but also the light novel and manga script’s writer –, together with his new-formed band (GOUACHE), received great repercussion in the entire Mora site immediately after its publishing. Other than that, Jin-san has his other band and works as support musician as well, and has been much talked about for recruiting such experienced members.

In this interview, to celebrate the movie’s presentation to the public and the huge popularity of “RED”, we have successfully gathered comments from the GOUACHE members! These news will consist of each member’s official talks about the band and its songs, from the thoughts they’ve put into the compositions to the possible future developments. It’s a must-read for the fans as it’s packed with detailed answers! Please enjoy it without skipping any words or sentences!

GOUACHE Members

MARiA (Vocals) Born on 1/31/1992 in Ibaraki Prefecture. Had her major debut in 2014 and works as GARNiDELiA’s vocalist. Is an artwork producer, in charge of songwriting, and also dances during live performaces. Is a model for several fashion brands as well, and has been earning the support of young women from her generation.

Jin (Guitar/Vocals) Born on 10/20/1990 in Hokkaidou’s Rishiri Island. Is a music composer, light novel writer and scenario writer. Specializes in creating untramelled works that do not get caught up in stereotyped concepts.

Gushimiyagi Hideyuki (Guitar/Vocals) Born on 1/31/1990 in Okinawa Prefecture. Started working as a guitarist, then created his own band, Creature Falls Umbrella, in 2014, and became its vocal-guitarist and composer as well.

Shirakami Mashirou (Bass/Vocals) Born on 5/5/1988 in Okayama Prefecture. Besides being solo artist and singer, he’s also a bassist, composer, arranger and recording engineer, working as a producer of anything related to music.

Ibuki Fumihiro (Drums/Choir) Born on 8/27/1990 in Hokkaidou’s Ohibiro town. Is a Jazz drums course graduate from Senzoku Gakuen Music College. Is the leader of the band O.P.P.A.I. and works as support artist for many other bands. Actively takes part in numberous national and international performances, no matter their genre.

GOUACHE’s official Twitter account: GOUACHE_JP (T/N: Please follow them, guys. They don’t have even 3k followers yet. The account is bilingual, so you can get information from it even if you don’t speak Japanese. Their English is a little awkward but it’s easy to understand. Also, they’re considering releasing their songs overseas, so the more non-Japanese followers they get, the greater the chances of that happening.)

Q&A

──I believe that while “RED”, the opening theme of “Kagerou Daze -in a day’s-”, is about “a sight that adults can’t understand and only reflects in the eyes of children”, it also deals with more universal themes. Were there any feelings you had wanted to deliver to people other than the current “KagePro” fans?

Jin: I was the one in charge of the lyrics of “RED”, and just as you said, it’s a piece aiming to deliver a worldview that reverberates within the “child-like heart” of the biggest amount of people possible. A “child-like heart” is what I personally consider one of my most valuable themes, so since I was using it, as expected, I ended up needing quite some time for the composition.

To express the scenery of a bygone summer’s day through words is a very specific task, and for that, I received advice mostly from the member Mashiro-san, and thus it became the way it is. That’s why these lyrics that are about a sight I saw in the past have, of course, been sprinkled with memories from a summer that Mashiro-san himself has lived. I think that lyrics like these being born is also something that reflects the band’s taste, so I’d wish everyone enjoyed this part of them too.

The majority of the GOUACHE members write songs, so I believe we will be releasing compositions from several polished viewpoints from now on. Please look forward to it.

──I was wondering if the song “RED” wouldn’t be the equivalent to a business card for the band GOUACHE. Are the things GOUACHE wants to convey contained in this song? I’d also like to ask what the theme of GOUACHE and what the message you actually want to deliver are.

Gushimiyagi: “RED” was the opening theme of the “KagePro” movie, so Jin was the one to take the lead in the making of the composition. But rather than a business card, it wound up as a work with the concept of what would happen if GOUACHE made a piece that leans towards “KagePro”. Therefore, I think the interpretation that the song “RED” is a piece that equals to a business card for GOUACHE just because it's our starting song would have only been valid if we were to make it through our upcoming activities. I’d be happy if people could feel GOUACHE’s theme and the things we want to transmit through the works that will be born from them.

──“RED” also had a simultaneous release with a high resolution sound generator version. Any concerns regarding the HighRes? Is there any piece that you want to listen to in HighRes or that you already listened to in HighRes and thought “this is amazing”?

(T/N: A sound generator is a device that generates sound waves by reproducing multiple basic waveforms. The finest ones can even detect the increase or decrease of air pressure in the room during recordings, so fluctuations in the atmosphere might interfere with the results.)

Ibuki: We still don’t have equipments that support HighRes for home recording, but we have been able to compare the three types of HighRes equipment through analyzing one piece from a CD lent to us by a musician otaku Senpai. I’ve always had doubts as to whether or not human ears could process sounds that can’t be recorded into CDs, so I was extremely shocked when, even while listening to it blindfolded, I could clearly tell the change in atmosphere. When I checked the sound mixes from our usual studio recordings in the control room, it sounded similar to the time I brought the sound generator to my home, which has a different speaker. The CD gives the impression that the sound leaps into surface, and the HighRes gives the impression that what leaps in is one particularly lengthy soundwave. I usually enjoy listening to music with an analog during home recordings since I can feel its depth more than with a CD, but I get concerned about the noise. “RED” is, more than anything, a song made by people obsessed with creating sounds, so please do try it out in HighRes. We want you to listen to an aspect of it that you absolutely can’t hear on YouTube.

──It’s said that the HighRes can reproduce even the “atmosphere” of the recording studio. Your usual tweets cause us to assume that you might have an obsession with the recording equipments and environment, but keeping in mind the viewpoint of those from the sidelines, we’d like you to tell us if any of you have ever thought something along the lines of, “I want people to listen to a sound generator from this angle”.

Shirakami: This time, I played the drums for recording with the image of an American rock band in mind. Their sound gives me the impression of a low center of gravity, gradually-increasing highs and clear vocals. It’s a sound that has long been a personal favorite of mine, and together with these members, engineers and directors, I attempted challeging it through all kinds of trial and error while making this song.

In order to increase the impact of the zone that embeds the unique notes of the guitar and, especially, the bass, taking advantage of the interval in-between the Japanese rock band-like guitar sounds, the individuality of the bass comes to light from the middle part onwards with a low gravity center kick. My position of making the drums take on a moderate, not-too-wet intensity was chosen by one of the engineers. The bass was recorded in a dead room, while the guitar was recorded in a semi-live room.

(T/N: In this context:

“Wet” is jargon that refers to a very thick, deep sound with little to no sustain.

A “dead room” is basically a room designed to be acoustically “dead” ─ as in not produce echoes and be free of ambient noise.

A “live room” is the opposite, designed to be highly reverberant, while a “semi-live room” is a toned-down version of it.)

The playback environment also influences it, but I feel it becomes easier to notice the change of high-end in the HighRes. I think the subtle breaths of the vocals, the tale’s nuance, the reverberation of the cymbals and snares, the mood of the guitar amplifier and the contrast of the opposing tight-kick bass are conveyed more clearly in it.

Regarding the recording equiment, we usually leave them in the care of an engineer that we normally count on, so I don’t know for sure, but the drums were selected from the cymbals to the head of the kick, and several guitar amplifiers and distortion effectors were tested. I’d be happy if people could feel the difference of the main guitar’s sound, the bass’s effective arrangements, and the players’ wills, which don’t depend on the studio.

(T/N: High-end is a class of consumer home audio equipment marketed on the basis of high price or quality, and distortion effectors are devices made to alter the sound of amplified electric musical instruments.)

──Lastly, I’d like to ask about your expectations for the future.

MARiA: “The five of us, overflowing with individuality, want to make interesting and fun things together first and foremost!” is what I thought when forming the band. I think it’d be great if GOUACHE could deliver various worldviews through its melodies, tunes and lyrics! I believe we’ll announce new songs like crazy in the near future and, of course, we want to do a live with all our might, so please look forward to it!!!

──Members of GOUACHE, thank you very much!

[chameleonspell]

181: communication

"I'm getting to that!" The molecrab turned a little too vigorously, and had to steady itself on the battlement while it re-aligned its eyeholes. "But prophecy's not simply a matter of... I'm just trying to... it's a complicated question! For example, what do you mean by 'truth'?" The squid didn't roll its eyes, as they were lidless lenses of pale violet crystal, but it rocked backwards with a derisive snort. "You're seriously asking me--" "No no no!" The crab shook rapidly, its muffled voice reverberating in tandem. "I don't mean in some guarshit philosophistical, black-is-white, nothing-is-real-so-you-can't-prove-me-wrong kind of sense, I just mean... prophecies come from dreams and visions, correct?" "Yeah..."

"But a lot of dreams are obviously nonsense, agreed? I'm not saying they're all nonsense - it's been argued fairly persuasively that dreams are one of the channels Aetherial spirits and Daedric entities can use to communicate with Mundus. I've also heard of someone claiming to be speaking from the Dreamsleeve, but I think that must be a misunderstanding, I don't see how a soul could survive intact in the Dreamsleeve. Anyway... while I can't imagine it's common, and I've certainly never had one, I'm willing to accept that inter-planar communication through dreams is possible. Communication. Which would be a true dream, up to a point, in that it's not completely created by your own mind. But simply being a valid communication from an Aetherial spirit, and especially not from a Daedra, still wouldn't guarantee that a prophecy was true, in the sense of, 'legitimately destined to happen'." "Look--" Seeing its attempt at interruption washed away like a twig in a tsunami, the squid sighed, and slumped against the stonework, nails scraping a nervy, not-quite-rhythm. "And this is still the case, if the spirit in question, or... all right, let's say Daedra. For the sake of argument, it's a Daedra. Even if we assume that this Daedra has legitimate knowledge of the future, through... Aetherial pan-temporal awareness, or whatever, debatable as that seems, given the ridiculous behaviour of most Daedra... even if... Oh, and if we assume that they're speaking in good faith - though gods know why anyone would assume that. But let's be charitable, let's allow, purely hypothetically, that Daedra can see future events, and communicate them accurately to their chosen faithful through dreams and visions--" "Hold on--" Another half-hearted interjection from the squid, doomed to failure, as the molecrab was hurtling unstoppably towards its emphatic crescendo. "None of that matters! Because here's the thing, it doesn't work that way! Prophecies can't ever be accurate, because by communicating the future, you're changing it! The future isn't fixed - look at the Elder Scrolls! Or, actually, don't! Don't ever look at the Elder Scrolls, because while they contain, allegedly, the past, present and future, they're inherently chaotic and mutable, and trying to understand them sends you blind! Reading them changes them, and changes you, and not for the better!" The molecrab threw up a hand. "As I understand it, anyway. This is all basic Mysticism, you'll have to petition the  Psijiics if you want something more onto... chrono... metaphysically precise." Julan pulled off the cephalopod helm and spat dishevelled strands of hair from his mouth. "Iya, I understood about three words of that through this blighted thing, but I wasn't arguing, only asking. We both agreed it was more important to come here and check on the Guild, than it was to search for that shrine to Azura again, so--" "Put that back on," snapped the crab, "you're a wanted man." "Maybe, but I'm also a hot, irritated man who can't breathe properly, and who thinks if we've walked into a trap, be it Temple or Camonna Tong, it's too late to avoid it now, and wants to die free." A short silence from the molecrab. "Fine," Iriel said, emerging, pink-cheeked, from the crabshell, "but we're putting them back on before we leave Wolverine Hall." Julan's Divine Intervention amulet had brought them to Sadrith Mora's Imperial fort. Camonna Tong no longer prowled its halls, as Imperial troopers refuse to tolerate that sort of thing indefinitely. However, from their current position on the highest battlement, Iriel and Julan could see thick clumps of Dunmeri figures lurking near the walls of Dirty Muriel's. The cornerclub windows were dark and still. Julan fidgeted. "We should just go. Whoever that priestess went to fetch, it can't be good." "Who should have kept their helm on downstairs, then? Gods, it's like you want to get arrested again. It might be my name on that list, but it's your physical description! But honestly, she was Imperial Cult. Unless you think she's buckling on her secret Ordinator armour, as we speak?" Julan smirked at the memory of the confused entry in the bounty list posted on the Fighter's Guild door. "Chasing white guar, the lot of them." One foot was shoving his bag to and fro across the tower-top. "I just can't deal with all this waiting, right now." "As opposed to the rest of the time, when you simply adore sitting arou--" "Sheogorath, give it a rest. You're having a good day for words, I see. Been saving them up?" "Yes. And possibly." Iriel's mouth twitched tight for a moment. "I feel like a flask of astroprasium carbonate solution." "Is that good?" "It's... fizzy." Now it was his eyebrow that twitched. "And salty, and hard to keep the cork in." Julan squinted over the battlement, gauging the distance to the cornerclub. "There's more of those fetchers down there than I've ever seen. You're sure you can't cast invisibility?" "I'm sure I don't want to try. The same way I don't want to try skooma, to see if I get re-addicted or not." He joined Julan in looking over the edge. "I might manage Slowfall." "Blighted hells, no! Maybe I can--" The trapdoor creaked, and they both spun around, but instead of a Tong glove, or an enamelled gauntlet, a willowy golden hand was lifting it. When a head of shimmering blond hair joined it, Ire recognised the Altmer evoker from the Mages' Guild, a floor below. "Iriel!" he cried, clinging to the ladder with his other hand, but still swaying from the exertion. "In Xarxes' own truth, I thought I heard your voice!" "You did," Ire admitted, ignoring Julan's triumphant expression, and his sotto voce, "Keep your helm on, Julan." "Iriel," the newcomer repeated, as he clambered gracelessly onto the tower-top, "do you not remember me? I am Helende's good friend, Tusamircil of Aspenreach." When Iriel continued to stare, he added, "She requested I lend you a pair of russula umbersilk anabreeches, once." He forced a tepid smile. "Oh." Ire said. "Yes. Thanks." He opened and closed his mouth a few times. "If you ever want them back, you'll have to help me get over to the cornerclub." Tusamircil's already arched brows shot higher. "Oh, no, my intention was quite the reverse! This is why Helende asked us to watch out for you! To tell you that you must certainly not return to the cornerclub!" "You spoke to her?" Julan demanded. "When? What's going on over there?" "I really couldn't say, but it all sounds terribly dangerous. But please wait one more moment, she left you a missive she believed would explain everything." With that, Tusamircil's head vanished again. When he reappeared a little later, he had a small, sealed scroll, which he handed up to them from his precarious position on the ladder. Iriel opened the seal, and sighed at the thief-code marks that greeted him. Julan remembered more than he did, though, and between them, they decrypted the following: Dear Iriel. And probably the other one, I suppose. Very well, Julan, no hard feelings now. It's time to move on, in all possible ways. We can't hold out here any longer, but we can give the old place a good send-off. If Dren wants to send an army, we'll throw a surprise party for them. There's going to be cake. It's made of all sorts of alchemical horrors, and M is "baking" it in the furnace, as I speak[crossed out] write. E has rigged the entire place with trigger-spells. He's making it look like his traps outside are failing, but it's a ruse, to draw them in. It's almost time for tea, but you mustn't come join us for this one. The others are already gone and safe. Getting the guar out quietly wasn't easy, though still easier than C. But once it was clear S wouldn't leave without P, P wouldn't leave without B, and B wouldn't leave without C, there was only one solution. They've all gone to S's camp. B obviously still fallen from S's starry heights, but once she (to her great irritation I might add) couldn't bring herself to kill him, she found there was considerable profit in his attempts to make up for it. So it goes. Not my summon-circle, not my scamp-fight, as they say. If you read this and the club is still standing, then get clear, fast. It won't be long, and if all goes well, Dren will be livid. There should be enough corpses in there for them never to guess who, if any of us, escaped. Don't give them evidence otherwise. M&E are staying until the end, to ensure everything goes off. I'm trusting E to get M out in time, so they better not get any silly ideas from those ghastly novels the two of you are so keen on. My ride will be along shortly. Not sure what's next, but you can contact me through T in Tel Mora, once the dust's settled. That's my last order: stay in touch. This may be the end of the Guild on Vvardenfell, but we're still family. For now, though, lay as low as you can. Almost forgot. Another letter arrived for you. You'll want to read this one, I think. Much love, H. Iriel looked at Tusamircil. "Another letter?" "I imagine it must be in here." The mage hauled something else up the ladder, with obvious difficulty. Julan helped him get it onto the tower-top: a sack. In it was a selection of Iriel's possessions, skimmed hurriedly from his attic room. "No time!" Julan caught Ire's arm, as he began investigating the contents. "You saw what she wrote, we have to go!" He ran to the battlements again. "Was the cornerclub chimney smoking like that, before? We have to get to the docks!" He rounded on Tusamircil. "You mages teleport people! Can't you send us somewhere better than one of your blighted guildhalls, in a city full of guards?" Tusamircil's chin jerked upwards. "While not a guild-guide myself, I am married to one, and in frequent conversation with many arcane specialists among my friends and colleagues in the Summerset expatriate community. As I understand it, the limitation of destinations to licensed locations is rigidly enforced, for extremely--" "Hey," Iriel was glaring at him, frowning. "Were you the loose-tongued jizzbiscuit who told so many people I was here, that my fucking ma found out?" Tusamircil swallowed. "I'll fetch my wife." Iniel of Rillowbeck's violet eyes were as round as the rillow-blossoms that cover the banks of the stream, running from her home-town to nearby Lillandril. "Can you really be suggesting I transport you along..." she licked her lips and dropped her voice "...unregulated channels?" "Yes," Iriel said, flatly. Her long lashes fluttered as she blinked, thoroughly scandalised. "Impossible! Even if it were permitted, it's much too great a distance. When there's no receiving chamber to focus the--" "As far as the docks, then!" "I can't! It's too close to Tel Naga and the Council Hall! If the Telvanni detected illicit teleportation, I could lose my licence!" "Well, you have to get us out of here somehow! The pair of you owe me for spilling my location to my ma and her poison-pen!" "I..." She faltered, playing with a loose strand of scarlet hair. "It's extremely valuable, so I confess I'm reluctant, but I do have a scroll of win--" "Yes!" Iriel was suddenly animated, almost glowing with excitement. "That. Give me that, please. Now, as in, very immediately, yes." next: 182: apology previous: 180: here beginning: 1: numb

[wordsarepretty]

UFC Nashville: Thompson vs. Pettis – Fights to make

The UFC is deep into their run of Fight Night events, and while the churn of ‘guys/gals fighting’ has developed a certain monotonous air to it, they’ve been regularly rescued by some fantastic main events. Anthony Pettis became the latest fighter to pull an event from entirely forgettable to memorable, on the back of his highlight reel KO of Stephen Thompson. Otherwise, outside a few other highlights, UFC Nashville didn’t leave many fighters in position to make a serious leap up their divisions.

So, is Anthony Pettis really a welterweight top contender? Can Curtis Blaydes turn wrestling dominance into another headlining opportunity? And just how little did Jussier Formiga gain by beating Deiveson Figueiredo?

To answer all these questions – and very little else – I’ll be using the classic Silva/Shelby fight booking method of years past. That means pitting winners against winners, losers against losers, and similarly tenured talent up against one another. If you’d like to take your own shot at some matchmaking glory, leave a comment below starting with, “Call up Momma and tell her I’m fine.” I’ll pick one winner from the responses to join me next time.

This week’s winner is BE reader “TheBirdsDen”:

Hi everyone, Im Bird. I have been involved in combat sports pretty much my entire life. I have been a BE member for a long time and I dont miss Snowden at all! I always liked Zane though.

ANTHONY PETTIS

Bird – That was a shocking and impressive victory for Showtime and I really didn’t see it coming. Pettis just starched one of the top welterweights in the world. While the RDA rematch is the obvious choice, RDA is coming off a loss and unlikely. I think Showtime vs Jorge Masvidal is the right fight to make at the current time. Both are coming off big wins and near the top 5 of the division, and the fight would be entertaining.

Zane – First things first, Pettis isn’t going to get that RDA fight ASAP. And, if RDA loses to Kevin Lee, then fighting Pettis really wouldn’t make a ton of sense. Much like Masvidal, Pettis’ recent history may not be filled with consistent performances, but he now has one of the best possible, most emphatic wins at welterweight. A lot of me would really like to see which former lightweight is able to keep their shocking momentum rolling. I’d also like to see what Pettis can do against Robbie Lawler, but it’s sounding more and more set that fans are getting Lawler vs. Askren 2. Fights against Demian Maia or Ponzinibbio would be the other principal options. But, since I really don’t find myself engaged by the idea of a Masvidal/Edwards fight (and I don’t think Masvidal wants it either), then book Pettis vs. Masvidal. Given Masvidal’s cult-favorite status and Pettis’ history as a former champ – and both men’s huge wins – it seems like a guaranteed action headliner. Pettis vs. Masvidal is a great fight.

STEPHEN THOMPSON

Bird – Wonderboy has a bunch of potential rematches that no one wants to see. Woodley 3? No thanks. I’m also good on running a Till rematch back. Why not match Wonderboy with another violent striker in the division? Obviously brain trauma is a good reason… but I think Wonderboy vs Robbie Lawler would be a barnburner. It would keep the winner relevant at the top of the division while the loser would start a slide toward being a top 10 gatekeeper.

Zane – An absolutely crushing loss for ‘Wonderboy’ and one that really puts his hopes of another title shot on the rocks. Pettis was there for Thompson to put together a dominating win and instead he got sparked out. Unfortunately for him, there aren’t too many welterweights coming off a loss and unbooked right now. I wouldn’t be averse to him getting in there against an up and comer like Luque or Martin or Zaleski, but off two straight losses it seems more likely that he’ll wait for a bit until another high profile welterweight is riding defeat. If the UFC really is set on running Lawler/Askren back, let Thompson fight the loser. The loser of Lee vs. RDA wouldn’t be a bad look either. If he just wants to get back in there as fast as possible, then there are plenty of hungry fighters looking to make their name off him. But assuming he takes his time, then Stephen Thompson vs. the Askren/Lawler 2 loser would be just right. And obviously, if that Askren/Lawler fight doesn’t happen, then Thompson/Lawler is just too good to pass up.

CURTIS BLAYDES

Bird – I dont think Blaydes vs JDS is the fight to make, but it could happen. No way we do Blaydes vs Ngannou 3. I am more interested in seeing if Blaydes can beat Alexey Oleinik. I’m basically trying to figure out if Blaydes is Mark Hunt’s avenging angel since Willis and Oleinik have recent wins over Mark Hunt. So, obviously Curtis Blaydes vs Alexey Oleinik 2 is the fight to make.

Zane – Curtis Blaydes gave a strong list of next fights he wants: Stipe Miocic, Junior Dos Santos, or Derrick Lewis… unfortunately he didn’t give a performance that’d make fans all that interested in seeing those fights. So much of what happens at heavyweight right now depends on what happens with DC and whether he gets Lesnar or Ngannou or Stipe gets his rematch. If Ngannou doesn’t get the title shot, then Ngannou vs. JDS is a fight I’d way rather see, and I doubt Stipe is at all interested in fighting Blaydes (even if it’s exactly what the UFC might want). And unfortunately, Derrick Lewis just took a hard loss and just had knee surgery. That leaves… Alexander Volkov, if he beats Overeem? Or maybe the Tuivasa vs. Ivanov winner? Hopefully the UFC can coax Stipe to take on Blaydes, but if not Blaydes vs. Volkov off a win is more likely what he’ll end up with.

JUSSIER FORMIGA

Bird – I have been wanting to see Formiga fight for UFC gold for a long time; I think he will finally get his chance. Henry Cejudo is the only fight that makes sense for him now. Its crazy to think what a big deal Uncle Creepy’s victory over Formiga was in the Tachi Palace days. Now Uncle Creepy’s best days are long behind him, and Formiga is still at the top of the division. Its very impressive, lets hope he finally gets his title shot.

Zane – Uhh… pass.

No, no… we can figure this out. The UFC is effectively shuttering flyweight by all appearances, and they’re actively pursuing Henry Cejudo vs. Marlon Moraes for the bantamweight title. So Formiga’s status as top contender really does get him absolutely nothing. If he’s willing to go to 135 (which he’ll probably have to, to stay in the UFC much longer) then this’d be a rock solid time to call out Aljamain Sterling, who’s seeing his own title hopes gets shoved aside. But, if he doesn’t want to try bantamweight just yet – in hopes that White changes his mind – then the only thing that makes any other sense is Benavidez vs. Formiga 2. I’d say make it for an interim title, but that’d just be all the more harsh when White stripped the winner two months later. Joe-B vs. Formiga 2 is the ONLY flyweight fight to make.

Bird – The hyped prospect had a lot of trouble facing the southpaw stance in her first fight at 125. Lets have her face another hyped southpaw striker prospect in Antonina Shevchenko. They have a combined 16-0 record, and a nice buzz surrounding both of them. If Barber wins it sets her up for a ‘Bullet’ Shevchenko fight in the future.

Zane – Barber had a rough first round against a huge step up in competition, but adjusted, bit down, and turned the tide to get the win. For a prospect? That’s a great sign. Technique can be improved, fight IQ and determination are a lot harder to coach in. If the UFC doesn’t rush her straight to the top, there are several strong options: Gillian Robertson, Mara Romero Borella, and even a fights with Montana De La Rosa or Andrea Lee if they want to test her against other fast rising prospects. Of all those, the Robertson fight may be the safest matchup. But, just because I’d like to see Barber get the chance to push the hype she’s built for herself, I’ll say book Maycee Barber vs. Montana De La Rosa. MDLR has looked more polished and aggressive lately, and has four straight submission wins. But she’s also lost to top prospects and seems to be feasting on sub-par competition. Time to see how much she’s improved, or if Barber can keep it all rolling. Barber vs. De La Rosa is a strong next step.

MARLON VERA

Bird – Vera has 3 stoppage victories in a row and destroyed Frankie Saenz. Peter Yan is a bit higher in the rankings, but hes 4-0 in the UFC and I think these two would produce a very entertaining fight. Whoever wins will be on a very impressive win streak.

Zane – Tendency for fouls aside, Marlon Vera is building a serious resume in the bantamweight division. He has seven wins to go with his four losses and has looked sharper and more dangerous each time out. Against Saenz, he even broke his curse of slow starts, rocking him with a jab for the early win. My personal preference would be to see him take on another really tough, well seasoned fighter that can force him to prove his composure again. Someone like Cody Stamann would be just right, or maybe Rob Font. But, Vera called out Nathaniel Wood, and that’s gotta be the fight to push for. It’s rare that an experienced, long time UFC talent coming off a strong win calls out a fresh prospect. For Wood, it’s a great opportunity to get the kind of win that could put a number next to his name. For Vera, it’s a high-risk, low-reward action fight. If Vera’s willing to take the chance, who am I to stop him. Marlon Vera vs. Nathaniel Wood is a great fight if Vera says he wants it.

Bird – I doubt she wants another crack at Liz Carmouche right now, so why not match her up against Andrea Lee. Lee has a name and is 2-0 in the UFC. The division is shallow and this fight would make sense at the moment.

Zane – As much as the loss to Liz Carmouche was a terrible way to make her UFC debut, this win over Davis will likely put Maia right in line to get some more notable fights (most likely with other less popular flyweights the UFC wants to put on prelims). Fights against the loser of Calderwood/Chookagian or Jessica Eye – after her meeting with Shevchenko at UFC 238 – would both be strong options there. There’s also a potential bout with the winner of Roxanne Modafferi vs. Antonina Shevchenko. A chance for revenge for Roxy, or another name veteran for Antonina to build her resume against. Eventually, however, I’m going to say that the UFC should book her against Andrea Lee. There’s no sense in waiting for other results, when there’s a perfectly decent matchup right there waiting. Andrea Lee vs. Jennifer Maia should be entertaining.

RANDA MARKOS

Bird – She looked very impressive beating Angela Hill with a quick armbar. The 11 fight UFC vet would be a good match for Cynthia Calvillo, who is 5-1 in the UFC and would be a nice current step up for Markos.

Zane – At this point, it almost feels like Markos has fought everyone in her division. I’ve long wanted her to take a TUF rematch with Felice Herrig (same goes for Tecia Torres), but both those women are fighting off a loss right now, as is Claudia Gadelha. Fortunately, Cynthia Calvillo is coming off a very reasonable win that didn’t get anyone too thrilled about charging her up into a top contenders bout. And that should make her the perfect next fight for Markos here. A win for Calvillo and her resume will be that much deeper when the chance for a big fight presents itself. And a win for Markos would likely come based off the kind of improved aggression that she showed in this fight. Randa Markos vs. Cynthia Calvillo would push either woman toward bigger bouts down the road.

OTHER BOUTS: Justin Willis vs. Tai Tuivasa (win or lose to Ivanov), John Makdessi vs. Marc Diakiese, Jesus Pinedo vs. Marcos Mariano, Deiveson Figueiredo vs. Sergio Pettis, Luis Pena vs. Mike Grundy, Steven Peterson vs. Anderson dos Santos, JJ Aldrich vs. Justine Kish, Bryce Mitchell vs. Chris Fishgold, Bobby Moffett vs. Nad Narimani, Frankie Saenz vs. Johnny Eduardo, Alexis Davis vs. Ashlee Evans-Smith, Angela Hill vs. Felice Herrig, Chris Gutierrez vs. Matt Schnell, Ryan MacDonald vs. Su Mudaerji, Jordan Espinosa vs. Rogerio Bontorin, Eric Shelton vs. Magomed Bibulatov

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