#got you a story to go with them

[evecolourshock]

Wyn, your art is amazing!!! I love your older Beck, he's such an Unit of a guy, but your Cyrus!!!! Holy hells your Cyrus, where to even begin. He's long and lanky and has clearly been through hell. He's bunched up and defensive but radiates the vibes of a feral cat about to fight the whole world so it can't hurt him again. Leaves claw marks in everything he knows, clinging so tight because he doesn't know what he'll be if he lets go. He's desperate, and... damn. You've really figured out how to invoke sympathy for this chaotic wreck of a person, and I love your version of him so much.

So, with that in mind, have a fic ♡ you figured out how to break my heart with this guy, and I have no words to describe how happy I am you did.

Cyrus doesn't know why his feet take him here. He staked claim to Purgos, haunting the streets and bringing pain to any of Clu's forces trying to do the same. He's no Tron, and it burns still, but the Wraith is whispered about in every dark corner and satisfaction curls through him at each mention of his new name.

And yet.

And yet if he lets himself wander, he always comes back to Argon.

To a Garage in Argon.

Or maybe to the "mechanic" in it. He's not sure.

Beck... Cyrus doesn't know how he feels about Beck, any more. It used to be jealousy and rage and hate, for an upstart taking what was his and bringing hope instead of fear-

Now it's all muzzy. Complicated. The hate is easy, but it doesn't bite the way it used to. Jealousy and rage, much the same, blunted by the new emotions running alongside them.

Pride, even though he doesn't like admitting it. Beck's strategy worked. Even the refusing to kill part - Cyrus doesn't know if he should be irritated by or admire Beck's dedication to a cause similar and yet executed so differently to his own. Argon loves Beck's Renegade, even after Cyrus' attempts to take the title back by force. Cyrus can, at least grudgingly, appreciate that.

Respect. He's fine with admitting that. Beck's a good fighter and even better strategist, especially now he has all that height and bulk to back his presence up with. Doesn't need to get scrappy any more, when just showing up from nowhere can get whole squads to flee from Tron's white-clad spectre of an apprentice.

Longing Other things. Cyrus doesn't want to explore them.

Cyrus does his best to stay in the shadows. Even discounting his dulled, wild circuits, he doesn't belong here and it shows. He's thin. Lanky. Pushing the limits on how little energy a Program needs to survive. Purgos has so little resources compared to Argon, and Cyrus would attempt to steal as much as he could if he didn't know just how guarded it was.

He doesn't have the energy for that. Not any more.

Beck steps into the street, and Cyrus tries to muster up some envy. The Renegade looks good. Healthy and strong, confident and assured, completely unlike the awkward insecure youth he'd once been.

Brown eyes spot him, harden with the steel Cyrus knows hides deep in Beck's core. And yet-

Beck's still so damn soft, once he properly takes in the sight of Cyrus leaning against the wall of the Garage. Cyrus knows he doesn't look all that great, thin and tired and dull, but he tries to twist his lips into a cocky grin anyway. "No hug?"

Never mind a hug from Beck could probably crush his chest. Never mind he's almost hoping for a hug, just to interact with someone and for it not to hurt.

"Didn't think I'd see you again." Beck comments, and sure there's sharp wariness to his tone but the recognition - and dare he say relief? Cyrus feels his grin get more natural, even if it shrinks.

"Found something to do." Cyrus inspects his nails, irritated by their chips and brittleness but resigned to them staying that way. "Something better." He purrs, though it doesn't curve his words the way it used to. "Though I see you've been busy in my suit." The lie falls off his tongue instead of rolling, bitter and sharp instead of smooth - that suit was never his, not really, and in watching Beck he knows that.

Not least because Beck's made it his own, adding long panels and a better collar and even a damn sash until it's something wholly unique and fluid. Cyrus isn't sure what style the Renegade armour now follows, but it suits Beck.

"Not yours any more." Beck retorts swiftly, still lacking the bite to make it land properly.

Cyrus inclines his head slightly, and the acquiescence doesn't hurt like he thought it would. "No, I don't suppose it is." He murmurs, voice raw and weary.

Beck's still looking at him, all soft and caution and-

"I don't want your pity." Cyrus snaps, forcing hinself to dredge up some of that rage and hate keeping him going. He reaches for Beck, sees the Renegade stiffen - a flash of old fear, good-

Drops his hand. He's too tired for a fight, even if he wants one just to feel something. "Don't pity me." He repeats, trying to hold on to the energy his temper provides. "You won." His lip curls in a sneer, though it's not aimed at Beck. "Be glad about it."

"Why?" Beck asks him, and Cyrus stalls. "What good would it do?" Beck steps closer, and Cyrus hates himself for backing up. One hit and he's done for-

Beck pulls him in. It's half-pin, half-hug, and Cyrus feels his knees buckle. "It's not winning if everything's still broken." Beck tells him, and Cyrus doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"You think you can fix this?" Cyrus chokes out, words grinding in his throat. "Look at me."

"I'm a mechanic." Beck tells him dryly. "And you of all Programs know how stubborn I am." He backs off a little, hands still on Cyrus' shoulders. "And I've been getting bored lately anyway."

Cyrus wants to tell him off, to snap and snarl about not needing Beck's charity, about how he's not a glitching project-

But Beck's voice is light and teasing. His eyes are glowing, looking forward to a new challenge. His hands are warm and steady, firm yet gentle with Cyrus (brittle, fragile Cyrus, treated like he means something even though he feels like "Cyrus" means nothing at all).

"Can't have that." Cyrus mutters, trying to keep the swell of emotion he doesn't dare name held in his chest instead of leaking into his voice. "...I'm kidnapping you." He announces. "Just so you know."

"Ah, yes. For the reputation." Beck agrees far too easily. "Of course. I'll put together a convenient collection of supplies to grab at the same time, then. It'd be a shame to leave behind such a tempting bundle, especially when it's all packed ready to go and just sitting there." He grins broadly, itching for something to do.

Cyrus bursts out laughing. This giant idiot, got him feeling all soft and happy.

"Bring your suit." He advises. "Think we could use a bit of your hope."

At the end of the cycle, we’re still the same… right?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Five foot something and he's royalty.

[gracefireheart]

Just a lil' GF x Pokemon AU sketch 💃 Mostly 'cause I don't wanna draw Ford's whole pokemon team yet

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Thinking many thoughts about the fact that Ravi is a manifestation of bucks abandonment issues - in that he is essentially the ghost of Daniel - who always appears in the firehouse at moments when bucks abandonment issues are at their most pronounced.

Ravi first appears the episode after Buck finds out about Daniel in season 4 and has popped up at every critical point since - the sniper arc in 4 - at the moment when Buck is facing the possibility of losing Eddie.

He is there pretty much all the way through season 5 when Buck was facing Maddie being gone and then when Maddie returns, with Eddie leaving the 118 and breaking down.

In season 5 (defend in place) we also found out about him surviving childhood cancer and the parallels to Daniel become very obvious.

Then in season 6 he pops back up in the aftermath of bucks coma - when he’s wrestling with his own mortality and with the ghost of Daniel from his coma.

Then in season 7 he pops up during bucks bi arc - when buck is fearing Eddie’s abandonment (and his jealousy) because he’s hanging out with Tommy. Then he appears at the end of the season when Bobby is in hospital having had a heart attack. A representation of bucks fears around losing Bobby.

And now he’s turning up in season 8 when Eddie is going to be gone and buck is really having to face all of his abandonment issues - with Maddie being kidnapped, Eddie and Chris being gone and the end of his first queer relationship.

So Ravi seems to represent Bucks fears and issues rising to the surface - being consciously present and there for Buck to actually address. With Ravi disappearing again when Buck manages to rebury or repress them.

[royaltea000]

I love Bai Long Ma he truly don’t gaf

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[rasangan-raspberry]

I'm gonna post the pages that I have finished, this comic is going to end up being pretty long i think.

(edit: just fixed some sizing things, this page didn't change much)

Next page >

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[dreamyblanket]

Imagine sheep (idk lol) y/n dragon meeting longan I bet longan would be wondering "how come the dragon kind has been reduced into this... so cute and floofy?!!"

I do a whole bunch of rambling in the tags for this one ^^u But! Dragon y/n would ask them so many questions about the time when dragons were common!

[keferon]

There’s something incredible about your aus that they start out with fun characters and world building ideas and then we all start digging underneath. And inevitably end up with a story that, for me (and I’ll only speak for my own experience here), forces me to think deeply about the world around us and life in general. And that is powerful stuff. /pos

Thank you thank you

I’m kind of dooming my AUs into that every time because I have this imaginary rule to make every storyline .uh. unique? Like if I already have “a human who randomly befriended a mer” then all other characters has to be something entirely different. So I end up starting to dig out references and experimenting with contrasting concepts and genres. And usually it leads to everyone crying because nothing makes such a contrast with simple fun as complicated suffering heh?

[vaguely-concerned]

having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

[freyadragonlord]

How do I explain how married Han Yoojin and Sung Hyunje are in the post-epilogue Side Stories without sounding like I am exaggerating or making things up...

[luminique]

You don't have to do this but I NEED me some Lighter as an adopted older brother or has a baby with the reader. I'm a sucker for big brother or fatherly things!!

‘it’s a rough life out here in the outer ring.’ those words echoed through his head as he scooped up the little baby wrapped up in a blanket. it’s face was all red, seemed to be a few weeks old at most, but he didn’t recall seeing this small package here before. its cries were quiet, due to it being muffled by its own blanket.

the hatred he had in his heart could not overtake how much it throbbed at the sight of such a small bundle of joy, pressed up into his chest as he cradled it to sleep. how was he going to explain this to the rest of the girls? how was he going to explain this to you? but more importantly, how was he going to bring it back without waking it from the loud roar of his bike? piper’s driving was out of the question and calling all of the girls over would just scare it even more.

as he made his way back to his bike, the baby’s little fingers had found its way to his scarf, tugging at it gently. once he had sat down on his bike, he carefully removed his scarf and used it to cover up the precious baby. it was preoccupied enough to not notice him turn on the engine but now was the difficult part; driving back one handed while ensuring it doesn’t wake up.

slowly, he was able to arrive back, a lot later than usual however. he was carefully shushing the baby, stroking its cheek so gently as he made his way to the fire pit. he paid no mind to lucy questioning his absence, nor did he try to entertain caesar’s invitation for a spar. he flopped down on the couch, the warm fire reflecting off of his shades. he looked around for you, desperately wanting some sort of reassurance in this situation.

of course the girls had immediately swarmed him but the moment their eyes landed on the little bundle of joy in his arms, they immediately softened up. awww’s and ooh’s could be heard, like a weirdly harmonized symphony. not before long, your head popped through the crowd and it felt like he had let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

the baby was so good, barely making a noise as he carefully handed it to you, albeit a little clumsily. however, it’s little hand was wrapped around lighter’s finger, gripping it like it’s life depend on it. “this little one really likes you, huh?” you’d try teasing him but he was using all of his power to not just melt at the sight.

he didn’t know he was such a softie. yeah, the Sons of Calydon have made fun of him for being soft once in a while, especially when it came to you, and he knew it but constantly denied it. now seeing you cradling this baby, cooing at it, something in his chest felt warm and it was definitely not from the fire.

after a few minutes, the baby started crying and of course everyone went into a panic. they scrambled around, trying to figure out what had occurred and it turned out that the baby just needed a change of diapers. a kind mother nearby living nearby was more than happy to assist, teaching how to clean and feed. no one ever told you about how stressful it is to handle a crying, squirming baby but after changing it’s diapers and giving it some milk, this was when you realized that the little baby was a girl.

everyone was exhausted and the girls had gone to rest in their rooms. it was fun nonetheless but taking care of a baby is a lot more work than you thought. you flopped back on to the couch, baby still in hand, slowly patting her to sleep. lighter followed you around, wanting to keep the baby close in his sight.

“what should we do with her?” you quietly asked, eyes slowly closing as the baby’s breathing could be felt on your chest.

‘it’s a rough life out here in the outer ring’ there it was again. that same voice in his head. was it telling him to keep the baby? or was it telling him that staying here isn’t the best option? the proxies down in sixth street might know an adoption pla-

he felt your head resting on his shoulder, the slow rise and fall of your chest. a bundle of joy, all wrapped up in his scarf, gripping it tightly like how she did with his finger. as long as he had you, he was sure she would be brought up well. the other members of the Sons of Calydon would also not reject because that’s another girl for them to adore.

he removed his sunglasses, taking one last look at her small face before resting himself. then he looked at you, clearly exhausted yet keeping still for the baby. they say it takes a village to raise a child, he’ll come to understand if it’s true. the start of a new life, for not just this abandoned baby, but for him too.

[greywoe]

"The she-wolf laid into the squires with a tourney sword, scattering them all. The crannogman was bruised and bloodied, so she took him back to her lair to clean his cuts and bind them up with linen."

[egophiliac]

I have a question about the jp server pickups, since I really want knight Sebek, but I’m trying to save gems for bloom malleus + the 3rd tsum event that’s gonna show up sooner or later. Iirc, after knight Sebek, the next story update’s pickup had all of the previous story cards (ie cerberus Ortho, general Lilia, and knight Sebek). Is this true, and if it is, did it include a token system like the dorm pickups where you can just do 100 pulls and then buy the specific card you want directly? Because if that is how it works, then I can wait until then and be sure I won’t have to go to 200 for him.

we did indeed get a second chance at those three when 7-7 came out! I'm pretty sure there was not a token system -- though admittedly I don't 100% remember, sorry! 🙇 I took a quick search through some past posts/videos from people who tend to include the gacha and news stuff, but I didn't see any mention of it, so I'm inclined to think there really wasn't one. :( they were all separate pickups with their own pull counts rather than a combined one, if that info helps at all.

speaking as a strict f2p who hoards keys/gems like the lovechild of a dragon and a magpie, given the choice between saving for a story card and a birthday card, I'd go for story -- it does require a lot of patience, but there are way more opportunities to get past birthday cards, both from the anniversary events and the rerun pickups! tsums is a bit harder to say anything on because Eng doesn't follow the same event schedule, but it's a longish event and those pickups let you have a free 10-roll, so I think they're also a bit easier to save up for.

(ALSO speaking of free rolls, starting with the fifth round of birthdays -- the kutsurogi my room ones -- the birthday boy/union jacket/bloom cards have had a separate pickup that you can get two free 10-pulls at by doing missions! I got a bloom Jade from it a couple weeks ago. :D meanwhile general Lilia is the only story card I've ever managed to pull, so...I'm probably kinda biased. whoops.)