#hopefully hes not too ooc

[cmkren]

— do you yield?

; gregory house x gn! Reader

Unsurprisingly, a night out between House and Wilson doesn’t end up uneventful. Tensions were strung in a-- stranger way, now with Amber in the picture. One of House's grand schemes goes sideways when the person he provokes ends up punching him right in the face. In an attempt to get Wilson in trouble (due to the whole curfew agreement), House got ahead of himself and now Wilson dumps him onto someone else rather than face the wrath of his girlfriend.

And of course, no one’s ever happy to see House on their doorstep.

a/n; sorta just ! Self-indulgent!! This fic leans towards sub bottom house roles, no sex just sloppily making out. Written in 3rd person, they/them for reader! Honestly not too proud of this, but I wanted to get this out 😓

tws!! Suggestive, minor blood play (like incredibly minor), and house bein house — 4.5k words

The plan had been going smoothly. Drinks were going down quickly for Wilson, lord only knows how stressed he had been to be downing alcohol like it was water, and thankfully for House he recalled scoring over God a couple years ago. Meaning he knew what had been haunting Wilson's always-ready-to-please mind.

The connection that Amber had been so similar to House had already been scrounged up, and even House would be lying if that made him think just a little too. Oh, nothing crazy maybe just the fact that if he'd been a woman, Wilson might have been all over him. Her?

The details didn't matter.

What did matter though, was his loss of control over the situation. House didn't know what he had been thinking. No one had been paying them much attention, and his goal was to just get Wilson drunk. Only Wilson. He supposed that he thought he needed to convince his friend to keep drinking? Maybe that's why House started drinking too. And maybe that's why he started picking fights with strangers.

It started off as passing remarks he made to Wilson, the infamous smug smirk that showed how he thought himself omniscient in a sense. That he was so sure he could read people like a book. To a certain degree, that was true. How else was he capable of coming up with schemes that would puppet the parties involved for his own benefit?

Eventually though, passing remarks would eventually turn into what seemed like heckling. No wonder he ended up getting socked right square in the face by a patron. House was always self-sabotaging, but sabotaging his own plans to sabotage Wilson's relationship with Amber? Now that was a little ridiculous.

Didn't change the fact that it happened though.

"Oh-- come on House, I can't bring you back to my place and you know it." Wilson's voice had some strain in it, one of his arms hooked around his friend's (questionable title given to the likes of House) waist as he led him to his car. "Especially not since you started this... this meaningless war." He muttered, the hesitance in his voice to say meaningless suggested that maybe he didn't think it was entirely meaningless. Perhaps a hint to the fact that he did find amusement in it. Hell, maybe even enjoyed it for a bit.

House was disoriented. Not by liquor, but by the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose and perhaps even a bit of a broken nose at that. "She's got you on a leash, Wilson." He swallowed, wetting his dried mouth. "If I say I'm sorry for leaving you at the pound and give you a treat, will you come running back to me?" He spoke with a certain monotonous that always indicated that he was just being a dick. Everyone's heard it enough to recognize it.

On the other hand Wilson decided to ignore that remark and start tapping away on his phone. Scrolling through contacts in an attempt to make some sort of solution for this mess. “I’m handing you off to someone else House. Whether you like it or not—” he swung open the car door to the passenger seat, muttering a few ‘careful’s as he lowered the man into the seat. Impaired judgement kept him from stopping the bloody nose first, and instead opting to do it when he got into the driver’s seat first.

”Are you dialling Thirteen?” House tilted his head forwards, just letting his head hang before Wilson shoved a bundle of tissues against his face. In turn he winced and complained ‘oww!’ dramatically. “Better be Thirteen.” His voice all muffled by the tissues.

Little did he know, it was the nurse that worked under a couple of his former ducklings.

House usually didn’t care for the other staff around the hospital, but he cared when he thought he could squeeze out some information out of some. That’s what he’d done to them. But not only did they refuse to sell out their fellow coworkers, they had also exacted revenge on him not too long ago. They didn’t necessarily win but they also didn’t lose.

What they were capable of doing, was bruising his ego.

After that, the two just kept interacting. The rivalry the two shared was almost akin to a friendship, but neither of them would admit to such a thing. After all, they hated each other’s guts.

There was a mutual respect there though, hidden somewhere. Wilson liked to think that at least. He would mention it or make a comment about it to House but of course he was always met with a response like—

“Tomato, To-mah-to. Only respect they ever receive from me is purely superficial. Happy to see them go, even happier when they turn around and I get to watch them leave.”

Wilson had rolled his eyes then, taking it as another one of those jerky comments House made to be a dick for the fun of it. The longer he had let it marinate though, and the tone shift at the time, perhaps it had an underlying meaning to it. Or he could just be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Again.

The car engine roared to life when Wilson inserted his car key, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave his friend one singular glance to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. He wasn’t. Just popping some more pills.

”Wilson it’s—” a voice picked up. They paused, as if looking off to the side.

”It’s 10 pm. This is well after office hours.” They spoke with a certain exhaustion in their tone. Expected, to be fair. They were all employees of a hospital, hard to keep up a good amount of energy when you’re running around the place all the time. Especially a nurse.

”Listen, I know this is a big request but,” he put his hand on the steering wheel, grunting when House would knock the butt of his cane against his forearm, “House— you’re going to cause us to crash!”

“House? He’s with you?” They sounded surprised at first before it all melted away, “Oh, who am I kidding, of course he’s with you.” The tone of their voice simply went from quizzical to bemused really quick. “I’m not doing anything for that bastard— this is too big a favour to ask of me Wilson.” Their indignation to aiding him in whatever he was about to ask didn’t keep Wilson from having his foot on the gas pedal though. He was convinced he was going to have them agreeing by the time they get there. If they don’t agree well… too bad they were going to show up to their house anyways.

As the conversation continued out on the phone, it didn’t take long for House himself to realize who had been called to their rescue. It made him scoff in amusement, “oh yeah smart move Wilson. Get stick-up-their-ass to keep me from bleeding out at their place that’ll work out!” He raised his voice loud enough that he knew he’d be audible through the phone.

Wilson furrowed his brows, his mouth agape for a second as he struggled to formulate a sentence but they cut him off before he could.

”Bleeding out? What the hell were you guys doing?” The concern was real but they eventually sputtered and tried to backpedal, “you know we’re not close enough for me to be covering whatever illegal activities you guys are doing!” Which was reasonable reaction, honestly.

“No— no— nothing illegal!” Wilson opposed, having to fight the urge to just knock his head against his steering wheel. God, it was like having two children in each ear yelling at him. House was talking about something but so were they. It just became a garbled mess. Not to mention the fact that he was still driving.

”I warned you. We’re on our way.” In the end, Wilson stood his ground. Pocketing his phone, he would keep his eyes straightforward on the road.

__________________________________________

“You’re lucky to have a friend like Wilson.” They murmured, lips pulled taut as they dabbed a cotton swab around the other’s nasal area. It was reddened with blood, bits of it dark from it already coagulating and drying out. House remained still, for the most part. Pale blue eyes staring right at them, not necessarily happy about this situation either. He wasn’t even tipsy anymore, just sober and in pain.

To be fair though, that was kind of regular day to day for him.

House’s eyes looked down briefly, flexing his fingers. “Yeah? Well friends like Wilson end up dumping you to get butchered up on a chopping block.” Then he wiggled, “or I suppose on a kitchen counter.” Not even an amused noise from them. Just the knitting of brows as they were wary of his squirming to make his point.

They were firm with him, as many would have to be with House. A hand holding his face steady, thumb and index holding his chin so they could tilt his head if needed. House was surprisingly cooperative.

”Well good for you,” they paused their actions, giving him an obvious look over, “nobody actually likes old meat. Too tough, too chewy.” They scoffed, before going back to dabbing the bloody areas of his face. Unfortunately, he’d also gotten a busted lip. It wasn’t drastic but it was most definitely going to take more than just a couple weeks to fully recover from it.

House had his neck craned up, brows furrowed a little as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes would shift downwards, looking to his begrudging caretaker. They had their lips pursed, their eyes a bit sunken from a long day.

He took the time to look at them though. Oversized band shirt over a pair of shorts. If he craned his head to the side just a bit, he could see that their shirt had hiked up just a little. Resting right above the small of their back, making it so that the front draped down but their ass visible.

His obnoxious ogling was cut short when he felt a dull pain, hissing as he felt just a little too much pressure being applied on his wound.

“I’m doing this for free already. If you want more, you’re gonna have to pay.” They muttered, voice thick with sarcasm.

House let sucked in a breath, “is this about the hookers? Just because I support sex work doesn’t mean I’ll let you drain me dry of my money! You’re not even a hooker.” He winced again, but not because they pressed too hard again. It was more a culmination of his leg and the busted up face situation.

For a brief moment, their eyes softened. They paused for a moment, pulling away and putting down the cotton pad they had held in their hand.

”Your Vicodin?” They questioned, as if expecting him to already be reaching for any sort of pill bottle. House gave a frown, not even really trying to feel himself to find said pill bottle.

He clicked his tongue, “must have dropped it back at the bar. Maybe Prince Charming will find it and return it to me and we’ll live happily ever after.” Actually, he was pretty sure if he ever came face to face with the guy again, he was going to end up with a black eye next.

They rolled their eyes. “I’ll get you something. Hold this.” They then passes him a bag of frozen… strawberries. Huh. Then they left the room, going to fetch something.

”Don’t even bother,” he held the frozen strawberries, and instead of using it as intended he opens the bag and pops one in his mouth, “it’s not going to even work.” His face contorted when the frozen fruit touched his tongue.

He supposed that was effective too. Brainfreeze. Maybe once or twice.

”I’ll just go on and skedaddle as soon as I can. Say, where are your car keys? A question of curiosity.” He called out, already turning his head to look about. When they popped their head back into the room they held what seemed to be clothes and a bottle of pills.

”You’re not getting my keys House.” They huffed, before walking back to him. The grown man sitting on their kitchen island with his legs dangling off the side, shirt bloodied and smelling of a rank bar.

This exchange caused him to raise a brow.

Not necessarily because they wouldn’t give him their car keys. But the fact that they held a change of clothes for him. Either they were just feeling generous, pitied him, or… they had actually planned for him to stay the night.

”Are you trying to get into my pants? You know, there’s different ways to do that—”

”Yes I want to have sex with you.”

The two stared at each other. His mouth agape as if he was going to speak, but they cut him off.

”No, House,” they gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m not trying to have sex with you.” They dropped the clothes right next to him, “you just smell like dog food and shit.”

Then they showed him the bottle they brought with them.

”Ibuprofen? That shit doesn’t do anything!” House reached out for it, though his tone spoke of a child who had maybe received fish sticks instead of his preferred mozzarella sticks.

At his complaint, they clenched their jaw. “Either take some or I’m going to shove them down your throat.” That made him give a faux look of offence, “and you work at the hospital! I’m surprised Cuddy hasn’t canned you yet.” Though the look they gave him made him finally unscrew the cap.

They took a moment to watch him take a couple, before walking aside. “Go take that shower. I’m not taking you anywhere, but honestly,” they turned to give him a look, “I wouldn’t stop you from wandering out.”

House recognized that their first instinct might have actually been to care. Hence the actual attempt at cleaning up his mess. Even giving him clothes and letting him take a shower. But he also knew that their history wouldn’t allow them to just will themselves to be happy around his presence.

That’s why, as a fuck you towards them and Wilson, he was going to stay. Prove Wilson wrong by pissing them off they just have to go yell at Wilson tomorrow morning.

__________________________________________

The bright light of the TV flickered, colours danced along the surface of his gruff face as he sat on the couch. He made himself comfortable in their home, meaning he made a mess of the living room. It was almost midnight now. They told him off earlier, but after him not budging the slightest, they just slinked away into their room.

He knew they were still awake though.

It was that stupid pirate cartoon. Only played at night! When else was he supposed to watch it?

“House.”

He looked over, a clueless expression on his face as he then looked to his wristwatch, “is it early morning already? Wait, nope. Go back to sleep.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if shoo’ing them away. From their own living room.

The look on their face wasn’t even exasperation or frustration. They just looked done. They walked over, stepping in front of the television screen with their arms crossed. “Turn it off, you need rest.”

He tried to look around them at first, but it was all but futile! He groaned, “get out of the way. You really going to stand there the entire time?” The irritation in his voice didn’t necessarily match the glint in his eye. Amusement, perhaps even a hint of a challenge in them.

They squinted their eyes at him.

It was always that. The look in his eyes that presented a challenge that was supposed to push people away. Yet for people as stupid as those who willingly stuck around House, it did the opposite. Before their own experiences, they always thought it strange for Wilson or hell, even Cuddy to entertain him. Because for a lack of a better word, that was exactly what they do.

Now that they’ve been in a similar position, they understand why.

“Does it turn you on to be such a dick? Surely you’re getting some sort of sick gratification from what you do.” They sneered, approaching him and his smug son of a bitch face. He stared, like he always did, before turning his head and sticking out his lip a little ‘in thought’.

Then he gave a shake of his head, his expression dumb as he said, “my body says no but my mouth says yes.” Then taking a moment before furrowing his brow, “actually, pretty sure I mixed that up.” Just another one of his snarky remarks that made the recipient’s anger burn hotter. It wasn’t even good, the things he said sometimes. Not objectively.

Sometimes they were so stupid that it provided the same effect. The same results. And that was all House ever wanted— results.

Before they could get in another word though, House graciously interrupted them. “I’m not kidding. Step away.” He nudged his hand again, trying to wave them aside. His other? Rested on his thigh. Running along the problem site, up and down as if trying to soothe. Not that it ever worked.

“You didn’t take the ibuprofen.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. “No— I did. Would my incompetent nurse like to see me try again? It’ll only keep proving that I’m right.” He inhaled sharply, wincing. “It. Doesn’t. Work.”

At that, they finally took one step to the side. Allowing for the light of the TV to light him up again. He was sweating, just a little bit, on his head. If he was in so much pain wouldn’t he get up and go? Or was there something else he was trying to prove? Surely he didn’t hate them enough to endure his own pain to inflict pain upon them. Then again, that would be a House thing to do.

Silently, they sat beside him.

House scrunched up his nose, turning his head as he shifted, leaning further back against the plush of the couch. "That’s it?” He let out a shallow breath, turning ever-so-briefly to look at them. They didn’t return the gesture, just staring straight forward.

”That’s it.”

There was a quiet lull between the two, only the over exaggerated voices of the pirate and the princess audible in their space. Quiet wasn’t really House’s thing, though. He turned to them again, arm raised to rest against the back of the couch, “you’re just giving up? Just like that?”

Giving up?

They snorted. “I’m not giving up anything. You were the one with expectations.” Then they finally turned to meet his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for games, House. If you aren’t going to listen, then you aren’t going to listen.”

For some reason, he looked confused. “You don’t just give up. It’s the one thing that actually makes you interesting.” He spoke as if he was the one getting offended. Even if he wasn’t planning on it now, they couldn’t help but feel some anger bubbling up again. What did he want?

”Then you should fucking leave, shouldn’t you, Greg?” They hissed under their breath, trying to turn back to the meaningless cartoon.

Out of all the petty things they’ve argued about, this felt the most genuine. Over an… animated cartoon?

”No. I shouldn’t. You’re supposed to— to…” he paused, biting his tongue. As if the Gregory House was hesitating. When there was virtually no reaction from his uncharacteristic doubt, he grunted. “You’re supposed to fight back. Keep me here.”

A look of surprise crept up to their face. “What?” They blurted out, turning back around to see the man with his head down, eyes flickering up to get one glance at their face. To see what reaction he had received. There were so many things that could be said. So many things they probably should have said. One of them being ‘get out’ which so gingerly danced upon the tip of their tongue.

His head swayed to the side, mouth opening once but then pressed together in a thin line.

This was probably the withdrawals talking. The pain talking. It wasn’t anything he could really stop from spilling out, either way. “Come on. You’re not stupid now, too.” He clenched his fist, then unclenched, nervously fidgeting. “You might be boring but you’re not an idiot.”

”Stop speaking in fucking riddles and spit it out.”

House scoffed, maybe out of amusement. He made eye contact again and straightened out his back just a little. “You hate me. I like pissing you off.” They raised an eyebrow at this, opening their mouth to speak but House shut them up by just putting his whole hand over their mouth.

”Shut up. I know, stating the obvious.” He mumbled, watching them carefully before slowly lowering his hand again once he deemed that it was ‘safe’. “But you haven’t made any real effort into pushing me out. And I…” he furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

”I don’t know.” It all came to an abrupt end. House looked at them as if he expected them to understand what he was saying. What all this stumbling over words meant. There was a certain look in his eyes though, one that had replaced his smug piece-of-shit look from before. The one they were used to.

Too many silences. There’d been too many between them in such a short period of time. But whose fault was that, huh?

”You’re saying… that I… need you? Or what? That I like you?” Shock was still riddled all over their face— a mixture of shock and anger that is. Every time they calmed down he always managed to rile them up again. That has got to be a skill.

A sort of relief seemed to wash over him as he leaned back again. He made a gesture with his hand, giving them another look. The ever familiar House stare.

He was still playing a game. Whether or not his intentions were to simply screw around with them no longer mattered. Because even if he was being genuine the bastard didn’t know how to express himself without hopping through loops. His reaction to them finishing his thought spoke louder than any sort of response he could have followed up with. Even if they said that it was completely untrue it was too late, he made up his mind.

His reaction also meant that the thought of them needing him wasn’t a thought he disproved of.

They relaxed, eyes downcast for a second before they met his eyes again, “you’re a piece of shit.” They muttered, eyes then shifting to his hand that was closest to them. His other was still on his thigh. It had been the entire time. Right now though, it slowed down its ministrations. His attention was on them.

”I should be proving you wrong.” They were slow, grazing their hand over his before interlocking their fingers with his. Warm. Stiff but not dismissive of the touch.

”But you’d see through me, right? Because you always do. You know so much.” He didn’t lean in, but they did. It was like the air had gone still, nothing held either of them back. Not sure House wanted to be held back in any way. Especially considering the way he looked to their lips, ever slightly parted for him.

He was quiet. Waiting. Wasn’t this what he expected? Or— something adjacent?

They tilted their head, lightly lifting themselves off the couch to reach him, leaning over him just a little. “You’re not stopping me.” They mumbled, taking a brief pause. Their eyes stared at his face, appraising him. What did he look like? Hazy. Supposedly, they should back off now.

They got their answer. Didn’t they?

“You’re such a piece of shit.” They breathed out before kissing him. When did the mood change? Perhaps the very moment they decided to entertain his childish game of feelings.

House didn’t waste any time to reciprocate. His hand moved off his thigh, hiking around their waist and pulling them close, so they didn’t have to hover as much. Mouths moving in tandem, both of them warming up as hands travelled up and down and groped. He tried to advance, but they pushed back.

”Don’t you even think it House.” They whispered against his lips, one of their hands on his other thigh and another against his chest. Kissing him again, he chased after them as they pulled back again to give him a smug smile, “under my roof, my rules.”

”Taking my credit? For this? Didn’t think you a thief.” He spoke, but his eyes were trained back on their lips.

“You think I want the credit for initiating?” They muttered, their hand trailing up from his chest to his face. “No. I want the credit for this.” They leaned back down, inching their bodies closer as they kissed again. As feverish as they were, the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to cover the sudden sharp pain he felt on his lip.

His shoulders tensed, what was akin to a whimper slipping past his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw them above him. A gleaming of something besides saliva on her own lips.

House’s hand goes up, pressing it gently against his lip, “you bit me.” There was blood, not too much, but enough. It was the busted lip they’d nurtured, now it was bleeding again. Yet he didn’t find it at all insulting. Instead, he almost looked pleasantly surprised.

”Want me to kiss it all better?” They mused, chest heaving still, and giving him time to either accept or decline. Maybe they should have asked first—

“You’d be sleeping on the couch if you didn’t.” He hardly finished his sentence before he reached for them again, the two clawing at each other desperately as saliva and blood was smeared against their faces. They were kind enough to not do much more to fuck up his lip more, instead going to plant kisses against the side of his neck and down to his chest.

A few red imprints left in their wake, which looked like red lipstick at the time but would most certainly just look like dried blood in the morning. And most certainly not look like kisses.

The hickeys though— that was most certainly going to be a conversation topic between House and Wilson in the morning.

”Admit it House,” they murmured against his skin, their hands quickly working to unbutton his shirt, “you’re the one who needs me.” They kissed and gently nipped at his skin, their hands moving to his belt when his upper body was exposed for them.

He tilted his head back, hissing out a breath as he tried to muster up some words without giving them too much gratification. Looking back, he eyed their close proximity to where he needed them most. “Says the one with their hands practically down my pants.”

“Fine. I’ll take them out.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Guess they were both going to be sleeping on the couch that night.

[thedeadthree]

thinking thoughts thinking thoughts thinking thoughts th—

what if irulanne was from the same clan as m*erril but raised a city elf since she was found in that crypt

what if she’s from the al*erion on her moms side and a l*avellan on her dads

what if lhysas father (an assassin just like his daughter lhysaa <33) had allies in his days as an assassin a pariah of his family

what if he wasn’t the only one that was betrayed when a thing went topsy turvy (will be getting to how that went down eventually !!!!!)

what if lhysas father moved on from lúthien the mother of the inky and her brother (she sort of went *poof* for reasons of her own that golly i need to write all of this down jdnxgcg i mean tungle post is a good place to start dnbxgxg)

what if unbeknownst to irulanne her and lhys and feanorian are half sibs what if her mother gave birth to iru and hid her in the crypt what if they found her and thought her to not have magic at first so she was raised by the elder of the alienage. (her mother was likely to have passed on as well poor iru 🥀🥲)

what if they kept an eye anyway knowing the bloodline she hailed from (lonans line lhysa and feanorians line has a STORY if there ever was one i will yell about it soon prommy !!!!!) and low and behold none too long later her magic manifested what if they waited a while more until she built her network of little creatures she reanimated that relayed her things and gaggle of friends what if she had a kingdom of her own and she refused

what if she was thrown under a bloody ritual to wipe her memories so that all she knew was the sisters a sort of sect of necromancers within the mourners that had their own ideas and machinations and saw her as their heir of sorts??

what if it was like she was to be some sort of lich queen…thing(?) ruling the living and the dead from the necropolis and that it went topsy turvy (to irulannes benefit ubeknownst to her at the time!!) when the thing happened and that whole her having a mage heir to rule was merely a side thing that if it happened cool but the main goal was the lich queen thing.

what if feanorian was in the area for a reason or another (maybe i can think of that with emms episode !!) he’s looking for the rook on behalf of lhysa who has her ex to thwart/save and a demigod daughter to raise etc etc (things i am planning to yell about later oo there’s so much to yell about with lhysa but this is a iru lore essay <3)

what if the prodigy to gifted kid burnout between lucanne (heir to bloodline etc etc luca and child of nothing destined to inherit everything irulanne) made me insane <3

[imababblekat]

Revali X Sheika Reader

Anon Request; "Hello! May I request Revali w/ a Sheikah!Reader who is extremely kind but also a skilled fighter alongside Impa? Thank you, good luck for everything!"

~xXx~

The first time Revali met you, he didn’t think much. The Rito champion assumed you were an acting guard for Impa, to which he honestly didn’t understand the need for considering her own impressive skill as a fighter. While boastful and full of pride towards others, neither of you rarely conversed. He honestly thought you quite boring, as compared to his own very stoic rival, Link. It wasn’t till the Sheika’s visit to his homeland that he realized just how full of color you truly were.

It was another restless night for Revali, full of tossing and turning in anticipation to get his signature move down right. It secretly irked him how gifted the other Champions were, having been blessed with magical abilities that came as easy as taking a breath. He’d get his move down right, one day, but in the meantime sleep and rest were not helping him get there. The Rito had taken to the skies not moments after making the final descion to get up and work harder, soaring over to the flight range in the dead of night. The chilly air during such a time was nothing to him, so it came as quite the surprise when his sharp eyes picked up the flickering lights of a fire down below.

The closer he guided down to the small hut, the tunes of a soft flute flited to his ears. Whoever had been playing it was so focused on their craft that they had not heard him land and make way into the range’s hut. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light of the cooking pot, Revali immediately recognized who had beaten him to the range. Your back to him, you had not a single clue of your audience as you continued to play the melody of your village so far from the Rito’s. It was melodic and mystifying, a sound that very few outsiders ever got to experience. Yet, Revali was ever so lucky to hear it himself as it resounded off the ranges peaks and be played by non-other than you.

So lost in the beautiful tune you spun, Revali couldn’t help but think back to the past week of your tribes visit. It had taken some time for you to adjust, showing that all the quiet moments of your presence being that because you were actually quite shy, but once you had opened up, Revali somewhat regretted thinking you so dull. You were quite cheerful and oh so kind. The children of his village adored you; always asking you to help them with something or to play or even watch as they awkwardly flapped through the air. Anytime they struggled, you were always quick to encourage them on with unending support. It was something the Rito Champion soon realized he truly admired about you, and he wondered if it was because he had never had someone there to support him.

The sound of a clearing throat made him slightly jump, and he wondered when you had stopped playing or had even taken note of his presence. With a soft smile and confused brows upon your face, Revali was quick to gain composer as to not make him seem off guard.

“Couldn’t sleep?”, you questioned with a hint of concern.

Revali shook his head, stepping forward to stand by where you sat before the ranges cavern.

“Hmph, sleep. Sleeping is for those who ignore their potential and take the easy route about life.”, he huffed, wings crossed as he watched you stand and dust off your Rito winter garb. An outfit he had to fight himself from internally thinking about how nice you appeared in.

“Rest, dear Revali, is what you need.”, you peered out to the ranges peaks before turning to point back at the bow strapped to his back.

“I’ve seen you train, better yet, I’ve seen what you like after.”

Revali reveled in the admittance that you’d seen him in action.

“Oh? An admire?”, he teased with a raised brow and slightly puffed chest.

“No”, you rolled you’re eyes but kept your smile, “Someone who is concerned for the Rito who acts all high and mighty, but staggers away when no ones looking and tries to hide fallen injuries.

Said Rito winced a bit at your statement. He was so careful to make sure no one saw his mistakes or how much of a toll his over training was taking on him. Revali was a prideful sort, he kept himself to high standards and worked hard to be where he was today, unlike most of the others he was assigned to fight alongside of. Last thing he needed was to be seen as weak.

Before Revali could angrily retaliate, you quickly stepped forward and into his space. You face had been inches from his, and he quickly took a step back with a soft squawk, his cheek feathers fluffing up in a bit of embarrassment.

“I know! I’ll challenge you to rest!”

It took Revali a moment to comprehend what you had said, but once he had any bitterness from before had been quickly replaced with intrigue. If there was one thing Revali was known for it was his eagerness to prove himself in competition. With a smirk, he stepped forward in challenge, wings on his hips and startlingly green eyes catching your unwavering form.

“Heh, and what do tell, are you proposing?”

“A shooting challenge.”, you confidently winked, pulling out your own bow.

This caused Revali to let out a heavy laugh, one that only made you smile wider.

“Are you serious?! You do know who you’re talking to right?”, Revali confidently grinned, taking out his bow and holding it as though it were a magnificent treasure.

“What? Are you a kokoo?”, you jested, making bocking sounds to only further ruffle Revali’s feathers.

With a huff, Revali stepped toward the end of the flight range’s landing, you quickly following behind him.

“There.”, he pointed to some targets set in the far distance. “Whoever hits all of those wins. Think you can do that, Sheika guard?”

Narrowing your eyes, Revali knew he tugged a string with the title he’d thrown at you, but was left confused when your dour expression changed to one of mischief.

“I’ll do you one better. If I hit those targets blindfolded, you have to rest. For a week!”

Revali smirked with a raised beak. You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into huh?

“Fine, but if you miss a single target, you will craft my arrows for the same amount of time.”

It was known that Sheika were skilled in the ways of crafting weapons, and Revali reveled at the thought of showing up Link with some new, quicker arrows.

With a nod of agreement you quickly wrapped a piece of cloth around your eyes, taking stance along the edge and drawing your bow. Just behind you, Revali held an already triumphant smirk. He knew the range better than anyone, and knew just exactly how rough and unexpected it’s winding winds could be. How could someone who couldn’t even fly be expected to hit targets, blindfolded, in such unpredictable situations.

And yet, just as how you had taken him by surprise when you’d first arrived and shown your true personality, you had once again done so in the form of archery. With a deep breath and senses he couldn’t even begin to comprehend that you were capable of on high alert, you fired. Each arrow seemed to be carried by the sharp gust of wind, as though you some how knew what direction it would take. Revali watched in awe as the arrows twisted and turned in ways he didn’t think was even possible, the sound of them hitting their mark dead on resounding in his mind. Just as the tune you played on your wonderful flute had moments prior. Was your playing a tactic to learn the ranges winds?

Removing your blindfold and shaking your hair back into place, you didn’t even bother to look at the targets you hit, instead turning to the awestruck Rito Champion with a smirk of your own.

“See you back at the village. Oh, and one more thing,” you brushed teasingly against him as you made your leave.

“I’m not a guard. I’m a warriors aprentice.”

Watching your retreating form, Revali felt a warmth blooming within his chest and let out a small chuckle with a shake of his head and a genuine grin, your admirable skills with a bow playing back in his memory.

You weren’t boring in the slightest.

[victorluvsalice]

Valicer Polyship Week 2024, Day Four: Let’s Dance (Severance AU)

We've reached Day Four of Valicer Polyship Week 2024, inspired by @polyshipweek, and our prompt today is "Let's Dance!" Because, while I don't talk about it as much as I used to, I am still a huge fan of my various ships dancing together. :D And I knew exactly what AU I wanted to pair the prompt with -- my new Valicer Severance AU! Otherwise known as "I Owe My Soul To The Company Store" after that one music video I reblogged. Severance the TV show has a rather iconic scene of the Innies getting a "Music/Dance Experience" in episode 7 (you can watch it here if you are so inclined -- warning, it takes a turn for the violent near the end, as one of the main characters is on edge after learning something interesting about his Outie's life the night before), so I figured this prompt would be the perfect opportunity to do my take on what an MDE would look like for my Innie trio. :) Hope you enjoy!

--

DeeedledeeedleeDIIING!

Smiler jerked their hands away from their keyboard, blinking. Across from them, Victor jumped, looking around. “W-what was that?”

“Sounded like it came from Smiler’s computer,” Alice said, getting up and peering over the partition separating their desks. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Smiler insisted, eyeing their set-up suspiciously. “I just sorted another set of numbers, and then that happened.”

“Well, you must have done something different.” Alice leaned on the partition, smirking. “Did the numbers make you feel a prohibited emotion? Ennui, perhaps?”

Smiler stuck out their tongue at her. “You know this entire job is one big study in ennui,” they said, studying their screen to see if there was anything new and exciting. There were the usual bins at the bottom, waiting to be filled with pointless bullshit; there was the giant field of numbers in the middle, a sea of remorselessly ridiculous digits; there was the name of the file at the top, the never-to-be-explained “Hill Valley;” there was the progress bar next to that – “Oh! I made 75%!”

“You – wait, really?” Victor said, getting up and coming over for a look.

“Yeah, look.” Smiler pointed at the bar. “Didn’t even realize...so I guess that was a ‘good job’ noise.”

“Huh – congratulations, then,” Alice said, looking slightly impressed despite herself. “First time any of us have managed that with a file – Wheatley!” she called over to their supervisor. “Smiler got 75% on Hill Valley!”

“They what?” Wheatley came zooming over on his rail to see, stopping just over Victor’s shoulder and making him duck out of the way. “Oh, look at that! That’s fantastic!” he declared, flexing his outer plates. “That means you, Smiler A., get an MDE!”

“MDE?” Smiler repeated, brow crinkled.

“Music/Dance experience! A five-minute dance party – DJed by yours truly,” Wheatley added, spinning on his rail. “Let me get the cart – just a moment!”

He zipped off, humming to himself. Smiler watched him go, then looked back at Victor and Alice. “I – I gotta admit, I’d kind of forgotten that was a thing,” they said, brushing their bangs out of their face.

“So had I,” Victor said, going back to his own desk. “Hang on, there must be something on it in the handbook…” He pulled it out of his drawer and flipped through it. “Here we are – yes, it’s the tier just below 100% completion and Cake Day. I’m not surprised we forgot, though – like Alice said, none of us have ever gotten that far on a file before.”

“They must have forgotten to expire yours before you hit the magic number,” Alice said, smiling. “Well, good to know that we can get rewards other than those stupid erasers and finger traps. Just don’t get your hopes up about the cake.”

“I won’t, trust me,” Smiler said, crossing their heart with a finger. “Besides, with our luck? I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave us a giant wad of tuna fish in the shape of a cake instead.”

Victor pulled a face. “If they did that, I’d burn this fucking place to the ground.”

“Can we get that in writing?” Alice asked, leaning on her hand.

Before Smiler could point out that there was no way any of them were getting access to matches anytime soon, Wheatley returned, followed by a little motorized cart that skidded to a stop beside Smiler’s desk, bearing a trio of cheap party hats in Aperture-approved orange and blue and a couple of speakers. “Here we are! Wouldn’t let me connect to it at first, but I had a few words with it,” he said brightly. “All right, so – just pick your genre of music and your accessory, and we’ll be off!”

“Accessory?” Smiler repeated – then jerked back as a drawer on the cart popped out practically into their lap, bearing a maraca, a pair of castanets, a party horn, a set of bells on a stick, and a single sad glowstick. “Oh. Uh – so – I just – pick something?”

“Yup! Grab your item, then you can choose your music,” Wheatley said, rolling his optic down toward a laminated list of musical genres lying atop the cart. “And then it’s party time! Wooo!”

Smiler snorted. “You’re happier about this than I am,” they noted, looking through their “accessory” options.

“Well, it does mean that I’ve been doing a great job as your supervisor,” Wheatley said, in a tone that said that if he had a nose, he’d be putting it in the air. “And besides, this isn’t like when you guys made those race cars out of office supplies, or went wandering off and petted those baby goats, or had your little make-out picnic in the kitchen. This is an Official Aperture Science Macrodata Refinement Incentive! Miss Glados can’t say a word about us taking five minutes to boogie!”

A grin slowly spread over Smiler’s face. “...that’s a good point.” Sure, corporate-mandated fun was probably far from the best fun they could have down here, but it was definitely the safest. And Smiler really enjoyed the idea of Miss Glados steaming over seeing them happy, but being unable to do anything about it. They picked up the glowstick and gave it a little shake, watching it light up a pleasant banana yellow (not that they ever remembered seeing a banana, but they were reasonably sure that was right). “This feels me.”

“It does,” Alice agreed, coming around to look at the list of music as the drawer retracted as violently as it had extended. “As for your music choices...you’ve your pick of Defiant Jazz, Bawdy Funk, Playful Punk, Wistful Pipes, Effusive Ska, Bouncy Swing–

“That one,” Smiler cut in with a nod, getting up. “This is supposed to be a party, isn’t it? Let’s have the happiest music we’ve got.”

“Sounds good to me! Now, everybody, this is in Smiler’s honor, but you should all feel free to get up and dance!” Wheatley announced, as if he was talking to a giant crowd instead of just three people. “Let’s get this party started!”

Right on cue, the lights dimmed, then started cycling through a rainbow of different colors as out of the cart’s speakers came the most upbeat, high-tempo music Smiler had ever heard. Not that they actually recalled ever hearing any music before, but that just made this tune all the more exhilarating, sending a thrill straight through their bones. Their feet seemed to move of their own accord, catching the beat and sending them spinning across the floor. Laughing, Smiler let their body take control, shaking their glowstick to the rhythm of the horns. Good to know some part of me knows how to dance! Would have been embarrassing otherwise!

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Wheatley cheered, bobbing to the beat as best he could while Smiler soft-shoed about. “Come on, Victor, Alice! Not a party with just two people!”

Victor smiled awkwardly and began very tentatively to sway on the spot, raising his arms slightly. Alice, by contrast, immediately threw herself into the music, waving her hands in the air and doing some very interesting hops and skips around their cubicles. “What is that?” Smiler laughed, boogieing over her way.

“No bloody clue, but it feels right!” Alice responded with a big grin, grabbing their hands and swinging them around before flinging them away. She promptly bounced over to Victor, grabbing his hands in turn. “Come on – we know you can do better than that!”

“I don’t,” Victor said, though he did let Alice pull him forward, closer to the cart.

“Well, we wouldn’t actually know if you messed up,” Smiler pointed out encouragingly, making their way over and bumping their shoulder against Victor’s side before fluttering their eyelashes up at him. “Please?”

Victor snorted. “You’re very silly,” he noted, picking up the rhythm more as he moved from side to side. “Both of you.”

“That’s why you love us,” Alice said, twirling herself into his arms before gazing up at him adoringly.

Victor smiled down at her, then over at Smiler, freeing a hand to beckon them over. “Yes. Yes it is.”

Smiler followed his finger, their heart going all warm and runny at the deep fondness in Victor’s eyes, and the cheeky little grin on Alice’s face. Not for the first time (or the second, or the third, or the fiftieth), they found themselves wishing they could leave this stupid fucking office and actually go outside. Go live an actual life somewhere together, where there were windows and seasons and as few numbers as possible. Where they got eat things other than tuna fish sandwiches and do things other than sit at computers all damn day. Where they could be together without constantly worrying about cameras and Miss Glados and the Break Room. Where they could dance for more than five minutes to whatever music they liked.

But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, if ever. Not with everything they were owned by fucking Aperture and its goons. But they still had these five minutes, and Smiler was determined to make the most of them. They slid under Victor’s arm and snuggled up to him, slipping their free arm around Alice. She pulled them in close, and together they bobbed to the music, just enjoying each other’s company and the break from the endless sorting. One day, Smiler quietly vowed, glancing at their partners. One day, we’re getting out of here, whatever it takes. And when we do, the first thing I’m doing is dancing with both of you for real.

[rhaegxr]

𝐎𝐎𝐂; Because I'm seeing a few Tolkien muses following, know that yes, the Sauron blog is incoming once I finish doing gifs. Because I am weak and have fallen into temptation. True creation requires sacrifice.

[masquenoire]

Barring any new asks, I think that's the last of those 'icons only' memes and it was very fun doing them all! Thank you so much for sending them in everyone, I'm feeling more confident about activity again and will hopefully be inspired to write a bit more often from now on providing schedule eases up sometime soon!

[neuvilyney]

For @o-sachi, I hope you enjoy!

a matchup for my "picture you" event!

Someone as intelligent, powerful, and driven as you deserves someone who can match that energy while also giving you the space you need to thrive.

Like sunlight to a flower,

𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵…

...𝗔𝗸𝗮𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗞𝗲𝗶𝗷𝗶 !

Akaashi's the quiet and attentive sort of lover. He's used to being the mom friend, always keeping an eye out for trouble- which is why you're such a nice change of pace. Someone like you, who knows exactly what she's doing and can handle herself with pride but also ramble herself silly at times? He was smitten from the get-go! It was awkward at first with both of you being so silent, but you'd slowly warm up to each other after muttering several out-of-pocket jokes just to watch the other try and hold back a laugh. Not to mention your love languages mesh perfectly, with the way he's always looking out for you and doing little things to make your life easier as your kind words ease his anxious mind.

Though, with both of you being more listeners than talkers, silence often replaces conversation. He doesn't mind, since he enjoys just being close to loved ones, but he can get worried that you feel left out or bored. And so, he'd try to lure words out of you by baiting you with topics you're passionate about- anything to see the way your eyes lit up. And naturally, it goes both ways. Ask him about the current shounen he's editing and watch the way he either gripes about the corny plot, or smiles over the scenes that reminded him of you two.

Back to the love languages, have I mentioned how attentive he is?? This man notices everything. From across a room, he'll catch the annoyed glimmer in your eyes when a near-stranger gets too touchy with you, or the way you grow tense and uncomfortably silent when something goes wrong. He's there in every way he can be- but he also does his best to give you space. While Akaashi loves helping, he doesn't love the spotlight- and so he'll try to ease your problems in a way that lets you resolve them. Long story short, the two of you are similar enough to be more than compatible, but different enough to keep each other on your toes.

And your appearance. God help him. As a man who also usually dresses in monochromatic colors, he takes a bit of pride in accidentally matching with you on most occasions. But from there, the way your long hair frames your face like a work of art? How your eyeliner highlights your eyes in a dramatic and fierce sort of way that has his heart fluttering? He can't help but stare at times, the lover.

❝ You've been at this for hours, you know. While I admire your determination, this puzzle will still be here after dinner. Yes, I know you're almost finished, but I made your favorite- ah ah, don't argue. I wanted to. We've both been working so hard lately, I figure we deserve a treat. Come on, up you go- we can watch that movie you've been meaning to show me as well. ❞

- Ky ♡♡

[nrc-asteryn-crew]

(✨GAH I WAS SO BUSY THE PAST FEW DAYS I TOTALLY MISSED MACE'S BDAY. SCREAMS. I am going to eat my shirt pretend this isn't severely belated.)

My dearest Vassal! It has come to my attention that your birthday was recently!

I regret not being able to offer you my sincerest joyful wishes for your date of birth, as I had been dealing with some... Peculiar problems in Diasomnia, but those have been since resolved.

I do hope that this gift is still... Somewhat sufficient as both a present from yours truly and... Also an apology.

*Casimir presents Mace with a small box (✨with contents that can be up to you) and a birthday card*

(-🌙Casimir (and ✨mod), @night-raven-miscellany )

"Ehh-? Oh! Casi'! Hiya! 's a pleasure to see you again, Evil Overlord. Kyehehe.

Ah- Oh. You- were involved in that..? I've heard bits and pieces about what was going on at Diasomnia... Are- you okay?! Ah fuck- nothing bad happened to you, right?! Agh, Crimson shoulda fuckin' let me go I swear to the sevens...

A-hem. Um. Where- was I..? Ooh, a gift! For me? Kyaa, that's so nice of ya! n' don't worry 'bout it- no need to apologise! Obviously ya couldn't be 'ere, an' it's not like I'd force ya with allat goin' on...

But thank ya for takin' the time to come by anyway though- 'preciate it! 'specially since I'm definitely not used to all of this kinda stuff happenin' for my birthday..."

Mace takes the gift into his hands and grins. He debates opening it now, but ultimately decides against it.

- Mace (🔌)

[skxrbrand]

[sentofight]

ooc. let's hope the new atelier game which is on phone is good. i need a good alchemy game in my life.

[13eyond13]

.

[casinoquartet]

"So," Red says while leaning back in his seat, "How's makin' it to round two?"

"Ehhhh," Subz says as he fumbles into the room sparsely decorated with a "Losers' Bracket" sign, "I was put up against God. Not much I could do about it."

Red hums, "Seems about right. At least you weren't like Ash."

"I still won!" Ash yells out from the other room, despite trailing into the room the previous day, covered with blood after being mercilessly pummeled. At least Subz and Clown don't look as bad as the rest of them, even if both of them have seen better days.

Clown lets out a snort, "I mean, at least I beat out Tubbo the first round. I think that counts for something."

"You barely did," Red says as he recalls Clown barely surviving the previous night, "At least you didn't get swept first round...unlike me."

Subz lets out an amused snort before walking out the door again, "Yeah, sorry," He looks at a message on his communicator, "Uh. I gotta go, Joe invited me for tea. For 'Good Sportsmanship' or something like that. Cya."

All of them say goodbye as Subz shuts the door behind him.

Branzy huffs, "Man, why don't I get invited to anything like that?! I got freaking sacrificed for goodness sakes!"

"Listen, it was a little bit funny."

"Maybe to you, Red! But not for me!" Branzy says as he medical supplies for Ash, his campaign was the one with the most losses, after all.

Red lets out a snort, "At least your campaigners didn't lose too badly, unlike As-"

"I can still hear you!"

"You weren't supposed to hear that!" Red yells back.

It's hard to hear through the muffled wall, but they're pretty sure Ash said something about "kicking their asses if he wasn't recovering in bed."

Clown shakes his head, "On the bright side Branzy, your sacrifice helped me out in round 2!"

"Oh, shut up you two!" Branzy protests back, "I even lost in the redemption poll..."

"You and me both, Branzy," Red says.

Branzy takes a deep breath.

"You and me both."

[kagedbird]

TESSDE AU (+ Lucia :]) (Lucia part 12)

Lucien: *knocks on Allora's door, carefully opening it to peek in* Umm... Allora? May I... come in?

Allora: *drowsily waking up from her impromptu nap with Lucia, looking over to him* hmm...?

Lucien: *winces, quickly stepping in and closing the door* Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you...

Allora: S'fine. C'mere. You okay?

Lucien: *sighs, walking over and gently sitting on the edge of the bed, maintaining distance from Lucia and her* Not... quite.

Allora: *nods, breathing in deeply to brace herself for the upcoming conversation* You wanna stay?

Lucien: *blinks, looking at her in surprise* Pardon?

Allora: *stretches a little, sighing* Lucia told me Taliesin gave you an ultimatum. Stay or go. Are you staying?

Lucien: *clenches his hands tightly, looking about ready to cry* Please don't make me choose.

Allora: *shakes her head tiredly, carefully sitting up to avoid waking Lucia* Lucien-

Lucien: No- please. My mother and father are quite upset, they want nothing more than to apologize for everything that's happened. I want to as well. I care for you so much, but they're the people who raised me! I can't pick between you!

Allora: *sighs* I don't want to make you. But how many apologies will keep happening? How many times will Lucia have to worry about losing another mom? She shouldn't have to be dealing with this. I have to think about her. She's concerned about the people raising her.

Lucien: Does she- does she want me to stay here too?

Allora: None of us want you to stay behind. You know I love you. She absolutely wants to you come with us. She loves you too, you're her father.

Lucien: One of.

Allora: *narrows her eyes* Correct. And yet she begged to understand if everything would be okay, pleaded to not have you leave us. She doesn't want us to be separated, and she hates every bit of what's happening. It doesn't matter to her that she has three other fathers. She cares about you.

Lucien: ...

Allora: *sighs, shaking her head* It's not up to me what happens here.

Lucien: It's always up to you!

Allora: Lucia and I were both put in danger. Kaidan and Taliesin will refuse anything I have to say, if I even wanted to stay. Which, I don't.

Lucien: Please- just give them one last chance! I- I can't lose you! And I don't want this to hurt them!

Allora: ... *notices Lucia's cracked open eyes, knowing she was listening in* ...If they try to buy my forgiveness, we leave immediately.

Lucien: B-buy?

Allora: Offer gifts, flowery things, or offer monetary compensation- I don't want it. I want a genuine apology. I want to see them actually remorseful. If I can see that, then... I'll do what I can.

Lucien: *reaches to her hands, teary eyed and relieved* Thank you- thank you. Pl-please, let me be the first- I am so sorry for everything that's happened. This was meant to give you time from stresses back home and- I've just been ruining it left and right, and it was never my intention. I'm so sorry, Allora. Truly.

Allora: *gently pulls him forward and bumps her forehead against his, sighing* Thank you. I know you never meant to hurt me, or risk Lucia. And I know this is a rough place for you to be in. I don't know what I would choose if I were in your place. So... I get it. I forgive you.

Lucien: *wraps his arms around her and hugs her close, sniffling quietly* I'm so sorry...

Allora: Shh... we're okay, love. We'll be okay. Whatever happens, I love you.

Lucia: *clenches her hands into the blanket, trying hard to not cry* ...mama? Papa?

Allora: *smiles down at her, pulling her close into a group hug* Hey bug.

Lucien: *sniffles, pulling Lucia close* I'm- I'm really sorry Lucia. I'll be a better father for you, I promise.

Lucia: *burrows into Lucien's side* You're all ready a good papa. I love you. Are you- are you going to leave?

Lucien: *shakes his head, hugging her tight* No, Lucia. I'm not leaving you. Okay? We'll make this right, I promise.

Lucia: *leans into him and smiles hopefully up at Allora* Okay. Thanks papa.

[blind0raven]

Those rules seem reasonable, and as for why the arguing, he was blaming Leona for not taking care of his(Farena/Falena's) kid Cheka

- 🦊

Ah... I seem to recall briefly seeing Leona and Farena arguing about that as well -rolls eyes-

It is not my place, but Leona has every right to be angry if he is. Just because Cheka loves his uncle doesn't mean he can just run off to go visit Leona without warning

It brings trouble. Troubling his caretakers and guards who were suppose to keep an eye on him, troubles Leona also who while yes is annoyed when Cheka just DOES this without warning, he still cares about his own nephew, and it will trouble his parents

Cheka being a child, while yes is reasonable to understand him doing this, is not an excuse. Cheka should be taught that he can't just barge in without care and Leona will just accept him being around him, the lil cub needs to learn about this

And Farena needs to teach Cheka that, but no, since Leona is Cheka's favorite uncle then apparently he's suppose to drop everything and give his nephew all the time and attention he needs?

Cause he can't himself, he has a kingdom to run, instead of being a father for his own son and an actual brother to Leona to consider what is best for both of them. Instead just to spoil one and immediately blaming the other if something goes wrong...

Oh,

Sorry, do forgive me dearie. Master in a way shares sympathy to Leona since learning a bit from him, but she is the one that mostly... tries to be civil

Myself? I will call it out as it is, so master usually keeps me in check

[bravevolunteer]

michael

[nobilismare]

Vacation from 12th until the 17th

I won't be on during this time but I'll still check in or you can catch me on Discord o/