#i hope this makes sense to anyone other than me

[mochinomnoms]

Two's Company, Three's a Crowd, and Six is a Riot

iii. Royal consort to the wild usurper

[wc} - 6,261

[notes] - idk how i feel about Leona in this but it is what it is so that's what's happening! I was trying to balance this with a bit of mild angst but also make sure that the romance part was still there? i think it worked for the most part though. also, very excited for the poll i have a bias for one option in particular...

tags: @rosieboop @aliasrising @alienlatteinspace @wishicouldart @cottage-clockwork

edit: i notice I missed a few things regarding the ages and stuff so I fixed that. Also the timeline I realized isn't obvious, so here it is since it's more important here than in the others: Leona and Mousy have been together for 12 years, married for 6, acting as king regent and royal consort for 8 months but officially crowned 3 months ago. I hope that makes sense looool (as me more about this pls I worked hard on it....)

make a choice at the end...

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iii. royal consort to the wild usurper

Listen to: “Like Real People Do” by Hozier

The heat of the savannah that the dorm’s magic replicated reminded Grim of the trip he and (Name) took to the Cloudcalling Festival though considering the dorm’s patron Seventh, it made sense.

It wasn’t quite as colorful though, everything in Savanaclaw was in muted browns, yellows, and orange. It was just as hot though, something Grim detested with his fur. At least they had the pool in the lounge, though it was quiet. 

Grim looked around with confusion, sniffing at the air for your—or Mousy’s—scent. It wasn’t too far off from what you usually smelled like, but Mousy had an underlying scent of rain, like where’d they’d just been had a storm growing.

He’d come to learn that the weather of the dorms remained the same year round, no matter the weather on Sage Island, so it wasn’t hard to pinpoint your scent. 

Grim followed after it, still put off by the lack of activity. To be honest, the dorm was running the same as it usually would, nothing was out of the ordinary. Which is exactly what was throwing Grim off! Sure, Heartslaybul is always a bit more lively with Ace and Deuce, and Riddle did throw an unbirthday party last minute, but Grim expected that Savanaclaw would do something for Mousy. 

They revered their dormleader as much as the other dorms did, even if he was a slothful lion, so why wasn’t anyone freaking out about their partner?

Did Leona keep it quiet? Was he hiding you somewhere? Grim couldn’t have that, you’re his henchhuman no matter what timeline. Disrespect on you was disrespect on him! And why can’t he find you?!

“Mmm…where’d they go? They did come back to the dorm…right?” Grim huffed, padding around as he wandered the halls, the scent of rain coming closer as he approached a familiar door.

Leona’s room. It was closed, though Grim could hear shuffling behind the door, which was enough reason for him to slam it open and point into the room with rightful fury.

“HENCHHUMAN—”

“GAAAH! GRIM!”

Ruggie let out a high-pitched shriek as he clutched the laundry basket in his hands to his chest like a shield. Upon realizing that it was just Grim, he relaxed, ears flattening against his head as he scowled at the direbeast.

“Dammit Grim, what’s your deal? Don’t you know how to knock?” Ruggie grumbled as he threw a brightly patterned cloth into the basket, one that smelled like you mixed with rain. “You know I won’t cover for you if you damage something of Leona’s, I ain’t getting stuck with that bill.”

Grim let out a soft mewl, surprising both himself and Ruggie, as he zeroed in on the patterned cloth that was on top of the laundry pile. It was the cloth you had wrapped around you earlier, gold and black striped as it fell off your shoulders and held together by a dark orange and deep rich brown striped wrap and beads at your waist. 

Now that he really thought about it, it looked a lot like the clothes everyone had been wearing when you two visited the Sunset Savannah.

“Hey wait! That smells like my henchhuman! Why’d they take it off? I thought they’d be here…”

Ruggie let out a sound of realization as he looked between the cloth and Grim, bringing it up to sniff it closer.

“Oooh, (Name), that explains why this shuka smells so different. Though, it’s waaay too nice for someone like them to have lying around, where’d they get it from, Grim?”

“Hmm? Didn’t Leona tell the dorm about this morning?” Grim questioned, walking forward and reaching for the cloth—a shuka Ruggie called it—to smell it again. Maybe with a closer sniff Grim would be able to locate you. “Give it, I was followin’ Mousy’s scent, I need a refresher!”

Ruggie obliged, though he raised a brow and flicked his left ear curiously at Grim. 

“Leona hasn’t told any of us ‘bout anything. Heard there was some sort of explosion, ‘n who’s ‘Mousy’?”

Soft footsteps and a gentle knock on the doorframe caught both Grim and Ruggie’s attention, the former perking up at the sight of you at the doorway.

Even without the vibrant patterned cloth and emblem, it didn’t take away from the rest of your outfit. 

Your top was black and sleeveless, no doubt to accommodate the heat of your home, with a high neck and a thick band tied at the back of your neck. The shirt was tucked into your black pants, which looked thinner and flared at the ends, and it was covered in a gold geometric pattern that shimmered each time you moved. 

Simple, like Tart’s was, but it looked much more expensive, even the wide band sandals you wore looked like they were expensive leather, and the various bands and beads around your wrists and neck looked a lot like Leona’s jewelry. 

When you uncrossed your arms, Grim noticed a tattoo on your left (rather muscular) arm. A lion, like Leona’s, though it was a bit less extravagant and didn’t wrap around. 

“W-wha…(Name)?” Ruggie gaped at you, looking you up and down as you approached, making him clutch the basket to his chest and back up slightly. “Why are you dressed like a royal? ‘N you smell different too…”

The hyena opened his mouth again for a moment, before shutting it and scrutinizing you further. 

Grim could barely make the words out from under Ruggie’s breath, as his ears flicked while you let you a wry chuckle. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think he’d tell anyone, Leona’s never been one to share. Accident with a looking glass and time travel things this morning is all.” Your eyes and dry smile softened as you noticed Ruggie’s tense posture, gesturing for the basket. 

“He’s hiding from me in one of the nooks around here. Thought I’d give him some alone time, you want me to help with that?”

Ruggie’s ears perked up, his tail slightly wagging as he thought it over. 

“I mean, as long as I still get paid for the laundry…I won’t say no. I still gotta make Leona’s lunch.”

You smiled, taking the basket from Ruggie’s hands as you stared at him for a moment, making him freeze. Surprising both him and Grim, you reached up to ruffle his hair and cooed at Ruggie. 

“Sorry, it’s just been a while since I’ve seen ya, you’ve been busy with work back in my time.” Letting out a tired sigh, you pulled away to rub the back of your neck. “We’ve all had a hectic time, actually.”

Ruggie nodded, eyes lighting up in sudden understanding as he looked down at your clothes once again. He winced, making Grim tilt his head, still confused as he heard him mumble something under his breath. 

“Yikes, no wonder he’s hidin’. Okay, yeah. I’ll get the lunch started, I already had the detergent ready to go. Though, this is your shuka right?” He gestured to your clothes on the top of the pile. “That has to be hand washed you know?”

You waved him off, finally glancing down at Grim with soft eyes. 

“No worries, Grim here will help me. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about, huh?”

Grim pouted, his ears flattening as he whined, “I don’t wanna do chores though…”

“Ruggie will make you a sandwich too.”

“OKAY!”

“What?” Ruggie exclaimed, halfway out the door as he spun on his heel and glared between the two of you. “I ain’t doing extra work—”

“I will have Leona pay you triple for your work today.”

“—without getting your food order!” A big grin on his face, Ruggie got down on his knees and titled his head at Grim. “What kinda sandwich you want? Want a drink and side with that?”

“Tuna! Fancy tuna with fried pickles! And, um…” Grim looked up at you and tugged at your pants. “What’s that drink Ace always gets us at lunch?”

You hummed to yourself, thinking until you snapped your fingers. 

“Ah! The iced sweet tea. Can you get him that Ruggie?”

Ruggie nodded and gave you two a salute, walking off as he happily hummed a tune to himself, singing “gonna get paaaaaid~” as he did. 

You let out a chuckle looking at Grim from the corner of your eyes and nodded your head to the door. 

“Come on, let’s go. The faster we finish, the faster we can go to Ruggie and make sure he doesn’t eat half of your sandwich.”

Leona was hiding behind the waterfall, where there was a warm resting nook that most of the dorm was unaware of. You knew about it though, you’d been there numerous times towards the end of Leona’s third year. 

Still, he’d left to it right away, telling you to go drop off your shuka in his room to have Ruggie wash it. Grim’s spell had summoned you during a walk in the palace gardens with Leona and Cheka at the time, the pain from the cracks on your skin making you collapse into some of the foliage and mud as a terrified Cheka stared in horror. 

“Uncle! Nini? What’s happening?!”

The poor thing has already been through so much. As much as it was fun to see Leona young again, you were really hoping that Malleus would find you away home soon. 

It was nice to see Grim little again. 

“And I totally coulda beat Ace with my super duper great fire spell! But I went easy on him, so he got the higher grade.”

Grim was yapping your ear off as you hung the damp clothes on the clothesline, rubbing your clothing between your thumb and finger.

“Yeah? Which class was this again?”

“Umm, it was…Magical Dueling! Yup!” Grim put his paws on his hips and let out a confident chuckle. “Yeah, the Great Grim is a real mer-mercial?”

“Merciful.”

“Yeah! That!”

“Right. Grim, you do remember that we take all our classes together, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So you know that I know that we don’t have a Magical Dueling class, right?” 

Grim paused, squinting his eyes as you cocked your hip and tilted your head in amusement, waiting for his excuse.

“...We take it during our second year?”

You laughed, reaching down to pat Grim on the head, who gave you a displeased look. Still, he gave a small smile as you two walked back into the dorm. It was hot and windy, so it wouldn’t be long until the clothes were dried. 

Plus, it’d been about an hour since Ruggie left to make the sandwiches, which meant he should be done cooking by now, and Grim’s stomach had been rumbling for the past few minutes.

“Let’s just go eat. I’m sure Ruggie has your sandwich done by now.”

The dorm was still empty of most students, though you could hear someone walking on the wooden ramps and bridges every so often. It made sense, it was still the early afternoon and most students were in class.

Part of you wished that you could see Jack again, but he definitely was in class at this time, and wouldn’t be back for a while if you remember correctly. You kinda wanted to drop at Heartslabyul and see Ace and Deuce, but you didn’t want to add to the chaos with Tart already there. 

Epel and Ortho were also probably preoccupied with your other Yous at their dorms. Sebek was out of the question, he was stricter about his schedule than Jack. 

You just wanted to talk to someone else, you wanted to talk to your husband. At this point in time, you two were never far from each other, or for long. But the Leona of this time didn’t seem keen on talking, or even looking at you. 

He absolutely recognized your clothes and what they meant. 

“Maybe I’ll take his meal to him…get him to talk to me…” You mumbled under your breath, making Grim look up at you.

“Get who to talk to ya? Ruggie?”

“No, Leona.”

“Mmmrph?” Grim trilled at you, narrowing his eyes as the flames in his ears grew brighter. “Leona? What, he’s not talkin’ to ya?”

You shook your head as you both entered the kitchen, where Ruggie was finishing cleaning up and placing a cutting board and knife into the sink. 

“Oh, hey! The food’s done—”

“Well that’s rude!”

Both of you jumped at Grim’s cry, an angry pout on his face as he hopped onto the counter.

“If Leona’s not gonna talk to you, then he shouldn’t get food!” Grim’s pout suddenly turned into a sly grin as he eyed the steak sandwich on the counter, next to his own. “Which is why I should take it! Give it here!”

Right as Grim leaped for the tempting plate of food, Ruggie quickly swiped it and held it over his head, making Grim dive face first into the counter instead. 

“Hey!” Ruggie let out a growl as Grim returned one in annoyance, now jumping up in vain for the food. “I used his card to buy all this! I ain’t gonna lose access to it just because you ate his food, eat your sandwich instead!” 

Noticing at how Grim got on all four paws and wiggled, you rushed over to snatch him midair as he jumped right for Ruggie’s face, the latter stumbling back. Miraculously, he still managed to keep the sandwich on its plate. 

“Hey! Let me have it, Mousy! He doesn’t deserve it! He doesn’t want to hang out with you so he doesn’t deserve a yummy snack! GIVE MEEEE—”

You wrapped a hand around Grim’s snout, his demands for more food muffled as he still longingly reached his paws out for Ruggie as he cautiously lowered the plate back down. 

“Geez, what are you on about?” Ruggie huffed, wrinkling his nose at Grim as he asked, “Leona didn’t just leave you here, right?”

It wasn’t often couples in the Sunset Savannah stray from one another, much less royals, they were almost always seen with one another. Granted, this time’s version of Leona wasn’t technically yours, and you not his, you were reminded each time you tugged at one bracelet in particular among the many around your wrist. 

“...I think you can understand why he might not be particularly enthusiastic to see me.”

You gave Ruggie a dry, tired smile as you gestured at your outfit again, making him flush red and nodded, muttering to himself. 

“Right, right…Well, you know where he is right? I need to deliver his food before it gets cold, is he in his usual spots?”

You doubted that Leona wanted to be bothered by anyone right now, but you were a bit tired of waiting around for him to come out hiding.

“No, you won’t be able to find him. It’s a spot that only he and I know about, so far as I’m aware.” Ruggie’s ears drooped as huffed, murmuring something about getting paid, making you chuckle. “I can take it to him for you.”

Ruggie squinted at you, eyeing Grim as he was dropped to the ground, the latter crossing his arms and stomping his feet.

“No fair…”

Rolling your eyes with an amused smirk, you bent down and gestured for Grim to come closer as you whispered in his ear. After a minute, Grim perked up and stared at you with an open-mouth. 

“Really?”

“Really. Go on, Azul will be very weak against his ‘Angelfish’, so he’ll get you whatever you want if Angel asks for it.”

Grim eagerly nodded, reaching his arms out for his sandwich as you handed it to him. Shoving most of it into his mouth, Grim ran off as Ruggie titled his head at you in a curious confusion.

“What’d you tell him?”

“A secret, don’t worry about it.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. “Let me go get my shuka back on and then take his lunch. Grim does have a point, Leona can’t avoid me forever.”

The furball was always loud and annoying, but Leona dealt with him because of you. He let you bring him around because the stupid little guy made you happy, and he liked you.

He liked you a lot. Leona might even bring it in himself to admit that he’s fond of you, fancies you even. He’d been momentarily delighted when his little ‘mouse’ popped up in the classroom, you’d grown into a pretty thing with his family’s crest plastered on your chest.

And by the ancient kings themselves, you grew to be utterly breathtaking, the circlet on your head wrapped in the braids on the crown of your head decorated with dangling charms that glittered each time you moved, while the rest of your hair flowed down just under your chin. 

Then he looked closer at the eerily familiar circlet, and down your body. The clothes you were in were nearly all black, and you wore his sister-in-law, Niah’s, necklace. Big, beautiful, and intricately beaded to hold the Kingscholar crest, he knew you shouldn’t have been wearing that. 

It belonged to the queen consort. You shouldn’t have been wearing that unless Leona became King. It clicked quickly for him, then, when you’d made eye-contact back in that classroom. You looked older than the others there, and your eyes spoke of sorrow.

You were in mourning clothes, and in your future, he’d finally become a king. At the expense of Falena and Niah’s lives. 

He didn’t even want to think about Cheka. Did something happen to him too? After all this time of loathing and self-hatred, of cursing those who looked down on him for being second-born, he got what he wanted.

Did he want that? Did he want his family dead? Did he want to never see Falena, Niah, or Cheka again?

In the future that his Mousy came from, did he do something to them?

If his mother were here, she’d be pulling at his ear, reprimanding him for abandoning his mate to sulk off in his ‘hidey-hole’ like she would say. She’d always been by his father’s side growing up, like bonded mates were meant to do, up to the point of her untimely death. His father followed soon after.

He was still young when she passed, but he could still hear her voice, chastising him and urging him to go seek you out.

And he would…eventually. He wasn’t a coward, Leona’s pride wouldn’t allow that, but he just needed some time to think. To figure out how to ask you what happened, if he did something. Would you even know? Would you even tell him if he asked?

“Ugh…damn you Furball.” Leona grumbled to himself, tossing and turning in the blankets and pillows he stashed behind the waterfall. “You shouldn’t have been messing with ancient magic.”

There was a naturally formed window in the rock that let in fresh air as the sound of the falls and the occasional student walking past gave him some white noise, and yet he still felt stuffy.

It didn’t help that he could still hear Grim occasionally, your own voice just gentle enough to be out of hearing range. Leona’s pretty sure he was yelling something about sandwiches to Ruggie. 

Whiny as ever, and a little shit like always. As much as your presence has thrown him into a mental spiral, Leona does wonder if the little guy followed you to Sunset Savannah with him. And how exactly you convinced him to agree to housing Grim.

Maybe you turned him into a playmate for Cheka or something. 

Leona inhaled sharply at the thought of his nephew again, turning back around to face the waterfall. He froze at the sight of you, peering at the gap between the water and the stone wall, holding a plate of food in your hand. 

You carefully reached above you to grab the indent along the wall, and slid your body through, carefully pressed against the ledge as you stared down at the pool below you. You did it with precision, like you’d done this many times before, over and over. 

Until your foot slipped on a part of the rock that was wet, making you stumble and Leona bolt over. He didn’t even register that he was holding your waist and the hand that clutched at his shoulder until you huffed and looked up at him with a sheepish smile. 

“Ah, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, I forgot how slippery it got back here.”

Your scent was one of rosemary and rain, though he could tell that you spent a lot of time with his future version. You reeked of his magic and musk, though there was something soft there, like sweet oranges, that reminded him of Cheka.

Leona swiftly let go of you once you were on steady footing, backing up and putting a healthy distance between you two. Though, the disappointment on your face made him falter as he sat down on his makeshift bedding. 

Both of you stared at each other, neither of you speaking, waiting for the other to break the silence first. 

If Leona was going to give future him credit for something, it’s that he did a damn good job in claiming you as his. The jewelry you were covered in was in his colors. Falena was assigned gold and red as the heir, which was traditional. Leona got a dark orange and sepia, also traditional for the second-born, but they were never his favorite. 

But they did look very nice on you. 

“Aw, staring at a little herbivore like me?” You gave Leona a teasing smile and walked closer, holding out the plate to him. It looked like a steak sandwich, the usual that Ruggie made for him. “Don’t eat me now, I’m offerin’ you a meal.”

Leona continued staring at you as he took the plate in your hands, his ears flicking and tail curling close to him as you decided to take a seat on the pillow next to him. He watched as you crossed your legs, resting your hands between them and traced one of the bracelets on your wrist. 

It looked old. It looked familiar. 

“You kept that?” You looked up in surprise. Leona was realizing it was the first actual sentence he’d spoken to you since you’d arrived. “It looks like it’s gone through it…”

“Ah,” You looked down at the bracelet, red, white, and blue with golden spacers between the beads. “Well, it’s been a long time since you gave this to me. I think…almost 12 years by now.”

You smiled down fondly at the jewelry as you continued.

“This one you gave me after your graduation,” You tapped a leather band with a protection spell engraved on it. “Said I needed it for all the trouble I got into.”

You moved onto another one made of braided strings that resembled a sunset. “This was for my graduation, same day you asked me if I wanted to come home with you”

Smile growing, you let out a soft chuckle as you pointed out a fourth, crudely made rainbow bracelet that looked more like something a kid would make for their friends on the playground. 

“Cheka made this, used any and every single bead he could find. It was my 20th birthday present I think. It's been a while, but that sounds right."

Voice softening, you moved to your left wrist, which was decorated with a pair of bronze bangles and a matching cuff with an engraving of a rising sun. 

“This wasn’t you actually, funny enough.” You had a smile and looked at him from the corner of your eye. “Falena and Niah gave it to me as an engagement present when you proposed with this—”

Holding up your hand, you presented him with a wedding set on your ring finger. A thick bronze band accompanied by a simple topaz ring.

“That’s not in the royal jewelry collection.” Leona cut you off, though you looked relieved that he finally started speaking. “Looks too new.”

“Yep. You had this made just for me, and a matching set for yourself as well.” 

Your smile faltered as his eyes were drawn back to the necklace, specifically the crest on your chest.

Both of you went silent again for a few seconds, before you sighed, clutching the crest in your palm, as if to hide it.

“Ask. I know you want to know.”

“...That’s in Falena’s colors. It’s Niah’s, it’s the queen’s.” Leona hissed the last bit, his ears flattening as he stared at your face, watching as you turned away. “Why is my spouse wearing the consort’s necklace?”

Leona’s voice rose as he continued speaking, making you whip your head around and glare at him. For some reason, that look you gave him made Leona freeze. It looked a lot like the ones Niah and his mother would give him whenever he got in trouble.

“Leona. Did you just raise your voice at me?”

Clicking his tongue, Leona leaned back against his pillows and took a bite out of his sandwich, ignoring your pointed look.

“Tch, at least I know where Cheka got his attitude from.”

Leona choked mid-swallow, coughing as reached over to pat his back, freezing as he grabbed your hand to stop you. Though, as his coughing became more hoarse, he let go to pound at chest, allowing you to use one hand to rub a soothing hand on his back and pull his hair away from his face.

It took him a few moments, but he finally managed to breathe normally again, throat feeling rather raw. Leona looked at you from the corner of his eyes and asked, “Cheka’s okay?”

You furrowed your brows and nodded furiously, moving closer to sweep his hair over his shoulder and cup his cheek.

“Yes. Of course, Cheka is safe. He’ll be turning 17 in a few months now…he’s safe and doing as well as he can be right now.”

Leona closed his eyes, trying to imagine what a 17 year old Cheka would look like. A lot like Falena probably, though he had Niah’s eyes. 

“...What do you mean by ‘right now’.”

His eyes met your own as you thinned your lips. You opened your mouth, before closing it again, and gently responded. 

“Leona, I think you know what I mean.”

Taking a deep breath, let his gaze meet yours and asked, “How’d it happen?”

You took in a sharp breath, leaning back and clasping your hands together. 

“Are you sure you want to know? I don’t think it’s a good idea with time traveling rules and all—”

“Yes. Tell me.”

Letting out a sigh, you nodded, swallowing and licking your lips before you spoke.

“It happened at the end of last year, Falena and Niah were meant to celebrate their anniversary at sea. They took a handful of servants onto a ship and had a private yacht set up. It was only meant to be a week, so you, me, and Neji were left in charge of regular duties while they were gone, but while out at sea…there was a storm.”

Leona watched as you paused, wringing your wrist in your hand. 

“It happened about halfway through their trip, it was a freak storm that even had the merfolk surprised. It took two weeks for it to finally calm down enough for us to send search parties, but they couldn’t find anything…”

You shut your eyes closed, bringing a tightly closed hand to your lips as you took a shaky breath, continuing in a trembling voice.

“We thought that they might have sunk, even the Atlantica Royal family sent their own to search for the wreckage…but they couldn’t find it.”

Whispering the last part under your breath, you took a deep breath, wiping the corners of your eyes, before looking up and frowning. 

“Oh, Leona, sweetheart…”

Bringing a hand up to wipe his cheek, Leona barely realized that tears started growing in his eyes. Despite himself, he relaxed into your touch, letting you rub your thumbs across his cheeks and squeeze, bringing him down to your level to press your forehead against his own. 

“...Both of them?”

“Yeah…we held the funerals a month after. And…you were crowned three months ago as king regent.”

Silence fell over you two, Leona looking down as he processed everything you’d just said. 

King Regent. Him, a king in his future, all because his brother died. Gods…he didn’t want his brother dead. Was Falena an idiot sometimes? Yes. Was he pampered and groomed while Leona was thrown off to the side and ignored? Yes. But he didn’t want his brother or sister-in-law gone, among the ancient kings in the stars.

“You became the royal consort then. That’s yours now.” 

You nodded, letting Leona go, reaching down to squeeze at the necklace again. You didn’t look comfortable with it on, like the weight was a strain on you. Leona looked down at the plate in his lap 

“Originally, my Leona and I were only going to rule for a few years, as Cheka was only 15, just about to turn 16 when it happened. But he didn’t want to take the throne just yet at 18, so the two of us will be taking care of things until he’s ready.”

Silence resumed between you two as you decided to lean against the wall, blankly staring at the waterfall. Both of you didn’t speak for what felt like ages. Leona looked down at the plate in his lap still, and tossed it to the side to shove himself into his pillows.

You let out a small gasp, giving him a disapproving glare as you crawled over pick up the plate, ensuring that the food wouldn’t fall to the floor. 

“Don’t do that, this meat is probably expensive, Rugs would probably have an aneurysm if he saw you throwing it around.”

“Hmph,” Leona scoffed, raising a brow at the nickname. “I can afford it, it’s fine. He doesn’t care as long as I pay him.”

“Yeah? Well that reminds me, make sure you pay him triple for today’s work, I told him you would so he would make Grim some food.”

“Eh? I didn’t agree to that, why would I pay for the Furball’s—” 

You waved a hand dismissively, though you had an amused smile on your lips. 

“Oh shush, I thought you said you could afford it?”

Gods, you really did grow to be beautiful. Leona never was one that particularly cared about looks like a certain blonde did, but even he could appreciate how well you took to his homeland’s style. He wonders if the future him helped you with your hair: grooming each other was an age old tradition for close families back home, he saw Niah often braid Falena’s hair. 

Even Cheka’s, though he was so little that they would get messed up after playing. 

Cheka…you smelled quite a bit like him as well, but it was a lot fainter than his own. Hypothetically, especially with the death of his parents, his nephew should be attached to future you and Leona’s hips.

“Oi, you said Cheka was going on 17, but he wasn’t going to take the throne at 18.” Leona’s ears flicked as he asked, “How come my brat—”

“Nephew.”

“—Brat of a nephew, isn’t taking the throne? I know he’d been groomed for it.”

You perked up, smile growing as you leaned in closer, gesturing for him to follow suit. He did, with a fond warmth growing in his cheeks. 

“Oh yes, but after all was said and done…he decided to accept the letter that Night Raven sent him and attend school. Cheka said he wanted to wait and explore the world outside the palace before taking the throne, so the two of us will be ruling for a bit longer now.”

Leona let out a scoff, though he couldn’t help that the corner of his lips quirked. “Seriously? NRC?”

You smiled and nodded. 

“Yes, our—” Leona liked the way you emphasized that. “—nephew even took to your dorm. You tried your very best to talk him out of it, complaining about your time here and how awful it was, he shut you up when he brought up the two of us meeting at school.”

Leona let out a hum, resting his hand on his palm as he leaned against his knee. He still had questions about the kingdom, if there were any opposition to his coronation, why Cheka decided to run off to the school of all places. 

But, he also had a golden opportunity here. 

“And what exactly did you tell him?” Leona watched as you perked up, your smile growing big as you leaned in and cooed. 

“Oh? Trying to get information out of me, hmm? Shouldn’t you try and woo your (Name) on your own?”

“Do you think the others are leaving it up to chance?”

“Ha, fair enough, though I hate to say that you already seem a bit behind if you’re asking me that at this point in the year.”

Leona frowned, ears pinning to his head and tail swishing in frustration. He didn’t like the sound of that.

“You saying I need to get moving, huh?”

You shrugged, your bangles jingling as you waved your hand. “Maaaaybe. I’m assuming that you didn’t piss me off in this time back during the whole contract stuff with Azul, so the me in this time didn’t try to wack your head off with your broom.”

“You did what?” 

Leona couldn’t help himself lean in closer as you let out an embarrassed laugh, covering your smile. 

“Ah, I ask you to help me and you told me to deal with it on my own. When i threatened to keep you up all night if you didn’t, you actually tossed me and Grim out of the dorm and told me to not show my face again.” 

You laughed harder as you told the story, eyes crinkling.

“I was sooooo pissed off that I went back in, made Grim distract the dorm in the lounge, snuck into your room while you were distracted, and tried swinging it as hard as I could into your head when you walked in. We got into it after that, bruised each other up. I even gave you a black eye, though you gave me a massive bite to my arm.”

Leona straightened as you pushed your shuka further past your shoulders, revealing your matching Lion’s Guard tattoo. The second born was always assigned as the leader, though you were a rank lower than him based on it. You tapped it, gesturing for him to move in closer. 

As he did, Leona noticed that right under the black ink, was the faintest prescence of a scar. He could just barely make out where his canines had dug into you skin, no doubt drawing blood. 

“Hm, not a good idea for a little mouse to pick a fight with such a big carnivore.” Leona couldn’t help but drawl out a teasing remark, though you too it in stride as you covered the tattoo and scar again. 

“Oh, don’t you worry. This Mousy packed a bunch, and back then, you gave me respect for holding my own against you, so you helped me out with Azul. We just got…closer after that.”

You smiled fondly as you reminisced, looking up at him and reaching you hand out to his face. This time, Leona didn’t flinch away and let you cup his cheek, rubbing a thumb just under his eye, where the tip of his scar lay.

“We took our time, it was natural. I can’t really say too much other than that.”

Natural, huh? He didn’t have a fight with you in this time. Maybe he was already screwed. Maybe he just needed to get that fiery part of you out. 

Leona’s never been one for fate, he’s always desired making his own way through the world. Maybe he’ll just have to do that with you too. And…with Falena and Niah too…

“Hmm. Well, I have to wait until my own little mouse is back from where the Fur—”

“Grim.”

“—Grim sent them. I’ll come up with a plan, a nap’ll help with that.”

He didn’t wait for a response, instead opting to move over and stretch his body so that his head was in your lap, face looking up at you. 

You took to it naturally, like your own Leona did this often, hands immediately smoothing his hair away from his face, combining through it with your fingers. 

“...You really do look look so much younger like this.”

“...Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Leaning back once again to rest against the pillows and stone wall, stretching your legs out under his body to get more comfortable, you ran a soothing finger along the ridge of his nose. Leona wondered if you got that from him as well; he’d do it to Cheka when he was bothering him to coax his nephew into a nap instead of bothering him.

“Go on, take your nap. We can talk more when you wake up, yeah?”

Leona didn’t respond, though his tail wrapped around your leg as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“I’ll hold you to that Mousy. You’ll be helpin’ me scheme for my own (Name).”

He didn’t need his eyes, he could hear the smile in your voice as you responded. 

“Of course. Just for you sweetheart.”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[singleactionjack]

Mh wilds spoilers

I'm genuinely surprised how frequent it seems people are misrepresenting Nata's character arc and saying that they don't like him, every time it feels like they're actively leaving something out. I don't know if it's a lack of critical thinking or failure of narrative comprehension but idk

Like, it's not the most well written dialog but I think the kid has a pretty fleshed out set of motivations, his arc makes sense and none of it felt rushed to me.

Like, kid is in an isolated secret civilization, he doesn't know shit, he seems almost too innocent to be informed of anything. The most he seems to know is that monsters are dangerous, which seems very informed by his experiences in the intro. He doesn't know shit, his village is attacked by a terrifying creature he doesn't know much about, and his elder pushes him out of the village to "find help". His only community being presumably destroyed, everyone he cares about presumed dead, as a kid seemingly no older than 12 or something.

He gets picked up by hunters from the West or whatever, and they start an expedition to the forbidden lands because this kid is the first proof that there is /any/ civilization out there, and this traumatized child is having to be a part of this expedition because he's the only one alive they know who has any knowledge of the land. But the fucked up part is, he doesn't really know the land.

He spent the last few days (?) running scared out of his mind, luckily avoiding anything too particularly dangerous, across lands so large and dense the player needs a super fast dinosaur to navigate. The kid doesn't know much of anything about the land, only hoping he recognizes enough of the way out to see the way back home.

So you have a kid who's scared shitless, having to help an expedition to his home that /no one else/ knows about, through lands he doesn't know anything about, with the implicit expectation that his entire people are dead at the hands of a creature that still lingers in his nightmares. The glimpses of the brutality of Arkveld still plastered in his mind. And it seems until he travels with Alma and the player, this brutality has no context.

As he follows along with the party, he starts to see reasons for the behavior of monsters (which is probably subtly indicating that his home isn't a place where regular monsters live) He sees an ecosystem thriving, a cycle of life and death, things doing things to survive. This further stokes the growing hatred he has, survivors guilt and thinking he's the last survivor of Arkveld. He thinks his people are probably gone, and he can't see any reason why a creature would do that. Narratively, Arkveld isn't a Monster™️, but a Monster, who does things out of maliciousness, cruelty, with no rhyme or reason.

Later, Nata and friends actually spot his White Wraith, attacking the Apexes, draining power from Rey Dau. In this part of the story, this "Villain Arkveld" conceptualization is firm in his mind, a target of revenge for his fallen kin. He is too weak to enact any meaningful revenge, just wishing to stop Arkveld from hurting anyone else in the way his people were hurt. The Hunters he's with prevent him from doing anything reckless, but he's fully in the fuck Arkveld club.

All the while, he's still a child. Optimistic, still has hope. They're able to actually find his home, in Sild, and he (despite really thinking everyone would be dead) still calls out for Tasheen. He hopes that someone else survived the horrors he was saved from. And lo and behold, Tasheen lives, among many others. His people weren't wiped out, many did survive. Tasheen then does something that changes Nata's path directly.

Tasheen tells Nata about his people and their actual purpose/role as the ones who reside and look over this land filled with guardians, artificial monster shaped constructs who only exist to be tools for a civilization that no longer exists. And that the "White Wraith" was simply one of these creations who was behaving erratically, unable to be controlled.

Tasheen specifically does this reveal in combination with celebrating Nata for successfully escaping and getting help as something they were not supposed to be able to do. The people in Sild weren't supposed to be able to leave really, bound by duty and second hand shame from a civilization that no longer exists, but Nata was freed from that cycle of imprisonment.

In doing all this, Tasheen gives purpose for Arkveld AND Nata. No longer just a child, he was supposed to be one of these protectors. Arkveld, no longer a creature without direction, but a guardian who is acting strangely.

This information is given to him with the explicit understanding that Nata's purpose (as ascribed to him) isn't set in stone, and by him leaving and finding help he has already been given agency to be his own person and make choices his people could/would not. In this part of the narrative, the vengeance seeking Nata is largely replaced with concerned curiosity. He knows /what/ Arkveld is, but not why it's doing what it's doing.

They eventually discover a reason why. Arkveld, seemingly too powerful a construct, is attempting to revert to it's original status as the wyvern it was before extinction. Trying to engage in the behaviors it knows it should do, either from instincts or seeing other monsters in the wild. Predation, subsistence. Arkveld, as an extinct predator reinvented, has all the tools to hunt but not all the tools to survive, leading to it seemingly rampaging in acts of violence as it attempts to overcorrect by eating and hunting despite not needing to.

When Nata understands this, his perspective on Arkveld is informed and he becomes very sympathetic to it. It isn't the monster he was lead to believe. It's a creature who's agency was taken from it, that found freedom and sought to behave in a way it felt right over what it was predestined to do. In a very literal sense, Arkveld and Nata /ARE/ the same. Both are children of the ancient civilization, given purpose by people who no longer exist. They are both given opportunity to understand the outside world, and in doing so are given chances to make choices for themselves. If Nata decided to stay in Sild once he knew people were safe, this wouldn't be the case. He was given opportunity to do more and see more and he took it because his horizons were broadened. By Arkveld's attack both of them were unchained by fate.

Nata at this point starts to truly empathize with Arkveld for two reasons: one being the stuff listed above, but also his learned understanding of the ecosystem. Arkveld is just doing what any other monsters are doing. He's seen several environments where the monsters fight and struggle for survival. Arkveld is textually (for Nata) really "just like him frfr". Steeped in wylk, finally able to see the sun, able to eat the cheese (animal flesh) and be their own person.

When it is deemed Arkveld has overcorrected and is too dangerous for the ecosystem, Nata objects, but he does so purely from empathy. Before Arkveld had no purpose in its cruelty, now its cruelty is somewhat overstated and its purpose is no different from anything else. Why must it die for doing what everything else does? Why must it die when it was finally free?(Like Nata himself has come to recognize in himself)

It's very straightforward honestly. None of his arc feels rushed, he is a scared and traumatized boy who is then given new information and hope, and that hope informs his empathy. It's like if a kid grew up in a cult and his whole family got attacked by a knife guy ™️, they escape into the outside world to find out that Knife Guy was actually kidnapped and kept in his cult family basement. Knife Guy only did what they did to escape but now they're too maladjusted to society to not be knife guy other places. I'd probably feel bad for Knife Guy ™️ too if I was the kid who escaped.

[crimsonfrostx]

A Road Well Traveled (Azriel X Reader)

Part 5

Word Count: 3065 Warnings: Scars, angst, body trauma Part 1 Part 4

You take a shaky breath, the thought of reliving and telling the inner circle your story making your body tremble. But the feeling of Azriel's arms around you, his steady heartbeat against your forehead, gives you a sliver of hope and strength. You could do this. You just needed your family. "We should... go back inside," you breathe out slowly like you're trying to convince yourself.

Azriel nods, his chin still resting on top of your head. "Yes," he murmurs, his arms tightening around you for a moment before he slowly releases you, his hand gently gripping your waist as he leads you back towards the dining room. As the two of you reach the dining room, all eyes turn to you, but no one speaks. Cassian, Rhysand, and Mor, watch you with concern, while Feyre and Elain both look on with curiosity. Nyx was missing, presumably placed back in bed.

The only person who remains unbothered is Nesta, though you suspect that her expression is more out of indifference than anything else. Amren just simply looks expressionless, sipping from a goblet filled with thick scarlet. You blinked at that, having almost forgotten her drinking habits.

Azriel takes his seat, his gaze flickering towards you as you hesitate at the edge of the table. Without speaking, he motions for you to sit, his hand gesturing towards the open chair beside him. You straighten yourself, gliding forward and taking your seat once more in between him and Elain. Rhysand lifts his brow, waiting for an explanation. You sighed and began.

And so, the whole story spills from your lips, in a voice clear and unemotional. You tell them of your departure from the Night Court, your journeys to other Courts and continents you'd been to, and the training you took. You speak of your time away in detail. From your words, they get a sense of the horrors you’ve experienced, and the fact that you have indeed changed, but they hear the loneliness that echoes within you as you describe the long years away from the home you once called family.

The room is hushed, the only sounds coming from the crackle of the fire. 

"And all of this time, you've been dealing with this...power?" Rhysand breaks the silence first, his gaze flicking towards you. You nod slowly, a strange sense of comfort filling you as you get out the things that have haunted you for so long. Azriel is completely still in his seat, having heard things from your in depth explanation that had his mind reeling. "I've been trying to control it. I didn't want to come back until I was sure I wouldn't affect anyone," you continue, feeling your heart ache all over again. "But I couldn't stay away any longer. I heard about some of the things that I missed. I've been trying to get back sooner, but... the anxiety and frustration it's left me with has been making traveling a little harder."

Rhysand's expression softens at your words, his gaze flickering to Azriel. "And you never had any help controlling it?" he asks gently, his concern for you showing. You lift your shoulders slightly in a shrug. "I've tried to find out more about it. Where it came from, if anyone else has ever had this power. I haven't found much, and I haven't come across anyone who doesn't become affected by me sooner or later."

Mor taps a manicured nail against the table, her gaze sharp and calculating. "How have you managed when you're out there all alone?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity tinged with concern. You dip your head feeling their gazes on you. "It... was difficult," you say carefully.

Rhysand leans forward, his expression hardening. "Difficult how?" he pressed, his eyes scanning your face. You sigh, head lifting to scan their faces.

Cassian leans back in his chair, his gaze sharp and unwavering, his hand clenching on his knee. Mor's brows are furrowed, her usual carefree demeanor replaced with a look of seriousness you've only seen a few times. Feyre leans into Rhysand, her gaze glued to you, while Elain's hands are clasped in her lap, her face pinched in concern. Nesta looks mildly interested, though you suspect she's listening intently. Azriel is the only one who looks as he always has, though the only thing that betrays his indifference is the way his fists are clenched in his lap, his knuckles white. Amren… remains Amren.

"I don't want to talk about it, Rhys," you try to keep your voice steady.

Rhysand eyes you intently, his gaze flickering to the others around the table before returning to you. "I think you need to," he replies firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You look like you want to argue. You don't see the use of this conversation. What was the point? You breathe in deeply, trying to control the current of emotions beginning to burn you from the inside. "It won't change anything," you point out softly.

Azriel's eyes narrow. "It will," he chimes in, his voice firm. "We need to know how to help you. We need to know what you've been going through." You grit your teeth, deciding that Azriel was now officially a traitor. "I affect everything and everyone," you mutter, clenching your hands into fists in your lap. "I found out the hard way."

Azriel’s gaze flickers, his jaw clenching as he considers your words. "What do you mean, you found out the hard way?" he presses gently, his expression darkening.

You hated this. Closing your eyes, you have to remind yourself that your family was just worried and curious. They didn't mean harm. Azriel didn't know the hurt he was asking you to relive. "I mean," you start slowly, eyes opening to stare down at the table, "that even animals and creatures can get pissed off and agitated by me."

Understanding seems to register in Azriel’s gaze, his expression hardening. The others look at you with a mixture of pity and shock, but stay silent, waiting for you to continue your story. "I tried getting away from civilization, thinking it would be safer for everyone if I just... disappeared into the forests. One wrong nightmare later, and I found myself being mauled by anything with claws close by."

Rhysand's eyes widen, a look of horror flashing in his expression. "Mauled... by what?" he asks, his voice hoarse with concern.

You physically shudder, the images flashing behind your eyes. "A few different things," you grit out, standing slowly, hand raising the material of your shirt, your other hand pushing the band of your pants down slightly. Large, ragged scars crossed your torso and disappeared down your hip, various lengths and widths. But all of them were clearly made by multiple sets of claws, your body having been shredded viciously.

Azriel's gaze lands on the scars, his eyes widening in horror. His gaze travels over the numerous scars, taking in the extent of what you've been through. He clenches his hands into fists, his body trembling with emotion.

Mor and Feyre cover their mouths, their eyes wide in horror. The table is deathly silent as they take in the extent of the trauma your body has endured. You fix your clothes, eyes distant and feeling numb, sitting back down. "I know it's not a meal friendly show and tell," you offered over a humorless chuckle.

Silence fills the room once more as the weight of your words and the horror of your experience sinks in. Everyone is clearly affected, their faces filled with shock and disbelief. After a moment, Azriel, who looks as if he's fighting the urge to be sick, finally speaks. "How did you..." he starts but can't seem to finish the sentence.

"How did I get away? How did I survive?" You finished for him, knowing that's what they were all thinking. "I didn't get away. My fear began affecting them too, and they ran, leaving me shredded and dying."

Azriel flinches as the words leave your lips, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. The thought of you alone and injured, bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, sends his heart plunging.

The table is eerily silent again as everyone grapples with what you've said. The image of your body, left to bleed out in the dark, is too much to handle. It's too much to imagine you laying there and suffering, alone and scared, dying a slow, painful death. The ones you know the best are horrified. Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor look pale, and even Amren had frowned, her silvery eyes still locked on where your scars were now covered.

You pick up your drink and down it in one go, not meeting anyone's gaze. Mor eventually breaks the silence, her voice coming out quietly behind her own drink. "...What happened after that?"

You shrug, acting indifferent to hide the tremors that had started, the edge of your power flicking up, anxiety, unease, and fear beginning to spill from you. "I laid there for over two days. Someone eventually came across me, patched me up the best they could."

Azriel’s jaw clenches at the thought of you laying there injured and alone for two days with no hopes of help ever coming. He can feel your emotions beginning to spill over and he forces himself to relax, his breathing slow and steady in an attempt to combat your feelings.

"You're lucky to be alive after that," Rhysand says quietly, his gaze flickering over your trembling form. You nod slowly, eyes drifting over their faces before blankly looking at the table. "Yeah... lucky." You murmur, placing your empty glass back down. "I think I need to rest. Could you ward my old room?" You ask Rhysand without looking his way.

Rhysand clears his throat, glancing at Azriel, a tight nod following. "Of course," he replies gently, "and if you need it, I'll even put wards around the common rooms." You just nod, knowing that Azriel was probably communicating silently with him.

Rhysand stands, excusing himself from the table and disappearing down the hallway. Azriel's eyes follow him and then land back on you, his expression softening. "I'm going to walk you to your room,"he murmurs gently, his gaze flickering over your face.

Another slow nod, like all of your energy has just left you. You didn't want them to know the worst of it. Didn't want them to see you broken and bare, but now maybe they'll understand the danger of this power. The things it can make people and creatures do. You wait a few moments, blocking out the rest of the table and their eyes full of pity. Even Cassian has his head turned away, trying and failing to school his expression to something other than horror. Maybe it was disgust. You finally stand, carefully maneuvering out of the dining room without a word, moving to grab your bag by the front door.

Azriel immediately stands and follows you, catching up with several long strides. He silently grabs the bag from your hand, tossing it over one of his shoulders like it weighed next to nothing. The walk to your bedroom is quiet, the two of you both lost in your own thoughts. You take the stairs slowly, hand on the rail to guide yourself up. Reaching the top, you catch Rhysand slipping out of your room from down the hall, having just finished warding.

Rhysand pauses in his steps, his gaze flickering between the two of you. He doesn't speak, just looks at the way Azriel stands beside you, so close your shoulders are almost touching. But Azriel's gaze is locked forward, his focus on nothing else but the door in front of him that leads to your bedroom.

Rhysand lets his gaze linger for a few moments, his expression softening slightly as he watches you both. He eventually makes his way down the stairs, disappearing from view towards the rest of the group downstairs.

Azriel gently pushes open the door to your old bedroom, setting your bag down next to it, before following you in. Despite the lack of use, the room is clean and neat, bed and furniture still intact. Azriel glances at the walls, seeing the faint glow of Rhysand's wards.

You glance around, heart clenching at the fact that it remains untouched. "I hope it works," you say softly, eying the glow of the wards.

Azriel watches you take in the room, a small frown tugging at his brow. His gaze lands on your own, taking in your expression. "If it doesn't, we'll figure something else out," he replies, the words leaving his mouth in a soft, determined tone. 

You watch him silently for a moment, tilting your head to the side like you’re analyzing him.

Azriel raises a brow, his eyes roaming over your face, taking in the careful mask you’re placing on your expression. He crosses his arms, shifting on the balls of his feet. “What are you doing?” he asks, keeping his tone gently to not disturb the silence in the room.

"Wondering where this optimistic version of you came from," you mused quietly, the pain was still in your eyes though not nearly as prominent now that they were alone.

Azriel’s expression softens at your words, his own eyes looking you over. He takes a step closer, close enough to reach out and touch you if he could. “This version of me is always here,” he replied quietly, “usually you have to pay attention to see him.”

Your lips quirk up into a small, sad smile. "Bold of you to assume that I have never not paid attention to you."

He takes another step closer, his expression turning into one of seriousness, his gaze roaming over you. "Really? I recall quite a few missions where you blatantly ignored me." He takes yet another step, his body mere inches away.

You raise your hands, setting them against his chest, feeling the muscles flex slightly to adjust to your touch. "I'm very good at acting," you counter, his proximity making your heart race. Azriel bows his head down, lips lifting up into a slow smile.

“You think you’ve been the only one ‘acting’?” he asks lowly, hands coming up and resting gently on your hips. You gaze up at him, your breath catching your throat. "What do you mean?"

He pulls you flush against him, not answering you immediately, relishing in the way your breath hitches. He drops his gaze towards your face, taking you in. His gaze flicks over your lips, studying them like he wants to memorize them. His hands gently grip your hips tighter, as if trying to keep you from disappearing. He murmurs softly, "Are you telling me you truly didn't know I was always paying attention to every little detail about you?”

You take a deep, shuddery breath, attempting to keep it together under his gaze and touch. His nearness made your heart thunder and your mind grow light and dizzy. "I-" you try to speak but the words seem to get stuck. How do you tell him that you had noticed how he would pay attention to you, would sit right next to you during meetings or training, and would gravitate toward you in any room. You always had hoped for more than his friendship, but had seen his eyes on Mor on more than one occasion. You settled for keeping him as a friend, and thought for sure he’d despise you for leaving.

He squeezes your hips gently and his gaze flicks over your features, trying to read every expression in your eyes, every tremble. "It drove me to madness how I could never get you out of my mind. How I tried to forget the way your laugh sounded. The smell of you - wildflowers and rain..." He leans in, his nose nuzzling against your neck, inhaling slowly.

"Az," it's a broken, pleading sound that stops him, your hands shaking against his chest.

Azriel freezes, your voice breaking through the fog of wanting you. He takes a small, reluctant step back, his own body trembling. "I-" he starts, his eyes roaming your features, desperately trying to figure out what's going on in your head. What made you pull away from him when he had been so close to taking what he had always wanted. What he thought you had wanted.

"I can't do this," you say softly, your voice breaking. You turn away from him, pacing to the other side of the room. 

Azriel watches you, his eyes wide as you distance yourself from him. His hands fist at his side, wanting to grab you and pull you back to him. "Why?" he asks quietly, his voice strained.

You turn back around and look at him. "Because! Because I have been away for seventy six years! I haven't seen anyone from this family, the only people I can trust in the world, in that entire time. You have no idea how alone and scared I was out there. And now, I am completely terrified that I'm going to kill someone because of this power. I'm absolutely scared to death that I will lose you forever. My control is so close to slipping all of the time. I can't add you to that. I won't." You suck in a sharp breath, looking devastated. "I don't even know if this is you, or if this is my emotions affecting you."

Azriel's shoulders drop, his gaze pained and shattered, but filled with more emotions than you have ever seen before. Anger, pain, confusion, and fear. But also affection, desire, want. "You really don't know if this is me or emotions you've affected me with," he nearly scoffs, his voice a hoarse whisper.

You nearly flinch, your eyes watering, as you try to breathe through it. "I... I don't. I'm sorry," you whisper back weakly.

Azriel's throat tightens as he sees the tears in your eyes, and he turns, crossing the room, stopping at your door. He glances over his shoulder to speak, his voice low and gruff, his shadows swirling around him like they were agitated. "Get some rest. We will speak in the morning." He murmurs without looking at you again and slips out the door, closing it softly behind him, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Tag list:

rcarbo1 zanaorian tiffany-xx goofygoeber annamariereads16 suppppp97 chaosabroad dallynjennasgirl

[mr-tony-stark]

Tony shook his head.  “You don’t revolt me.  I think we’ll be okay. I just think it’s a little early to say what it could be.  I will say - I do hope it’s at least friends.  Or friendly if not friends.  I think we can handle that.  I’ll probably still tease you though.  Just in a different way.  I did really enjoy the sex though and if it turns out that we keep repeating that, that’s fine with me.”

Tony listened carefully, taking in everything Bucky said.  By the time he’d explained everything, they’d arrived at the diner.  From the outside it looked more like a bookshop than a diner, with its red timber facade, posters for local events in the window and its name printed in large gold times roman above the window.  Tony pulled the door open for him and let him in, processing the new information.  The inside was cluttered with tables and chairs, with booths running up one wall, and a counter top and grill up the other.  There were two guys in the kitchen and two waitresses and just a small scattering of people seated and eating.  One of the waitresses called out a hello to them and told them to sit anywhere.

Tony picked one of the red leather booths, figuring it was the most private.  He slid into the seat and picked up the menu.  “You know, it’s interesting.  I normally run a little more submissive.  I mean - I’m usually pretty happy to be involved, if the person I’m with is just so subby they don’t fight back, I’ll be the dominant one.  And I can have sex without power play at all.  I like to mix it up.  But if you were to say I could only have sex one way for the rest of my life, I’d pick submissive.  I like to joke that my type is people who are mean to me.  But that first time - I think it had to happen like that for it to work.  It’s like you said.  I needed to take my power back because when I saw that tape, I felt weak.  And ever since then, I mean - you won the fight, I agreed to let you live with me.  It just felt - I don’t know.  It felt like shit.  And then you submitted to me, and you let me take control and it felt - good.  I didn’t want to hurt you, or make you feel bad.  I just wanted to be in control of making you feel good.”  He shook his head.  It sounded weird saying it out loud, but he felt like Bucky would understand.  At least, if anyone would it would be him.

“I also think that when you flipped it, that was what was needed too.  Like you needed to take it back,” he shrugged. “I mean, tell me if I’m wrong.  I just think it kinda needed to happen that way.” He tapped his fingers on the menu.  “I’m glad you felt safe with me though.  It does make sense you’d want to take that back.” 

Bucky listens and doesn’t even know where to start with some of the things Tony was saying for himself. If he was being honest, Tony was more generous than anyone Bucky had never met. I mean even when they hated each other, Tony didn’t bar him from staying at the tower with Steve and then having his own room later on. And the description of himself, being difficult to date, he quietly contemplates that as they walk. Tony seemed to have a lot of reasons dating him was difficult but a lot of it was about why it was difficult for the other person to date him. But then issues with his own family life growing up and the problems with people dating him for the wrong reasons, he understood all of that.

“Rambling is more than fine Tony, i just need a second to process it all. I haven’t dated since…before the war,” he admits with a shrug, shaking his head a little with a faint laugh at the mention of engagement ring. “I ain’t asking because I want you to consider dating me. I asked that because I want to know where the boundaries are mainly, and because more could mean anything really. But you’re..right” he keeps his eyes ahead, he had enjoyed the last half day more than he’d like to admit. And he wasn’t like Tony, didn’t have a little black book of people to call because he didn’t have it in him to let people in like that. So sue him, he had maybe thought that…nothing, he had thought nothing. Didn’t matter anyways. He glances over to Tony with a faint smile, “we don’t have to define anything, I’m just glad it doesn’t seem like the sight of me revolts you anymore honestly,” he grins.

Dating was just not possible for him. He couldn’t see himself going out, meeting a stranger, and asking them out. He didn’t even know if he wanted to date Tony really, didn’t know if he was able to date. The nightmares, the trauma and the PTSD that haunted him, the constant struggle of dealing with his past because it would never stop being his past. He doesn’t know what normal person would want to be involved in any of that. He can understand Tony’s issues with dating, it seemed like he’d had bad experiences. But he didn’t expect the questions about HYDRA. He goes cold, he had only mentioned them to explain why he was even doing that type of research to begin with. He keeps pace with Tony though, staring ahead now as they walked, trying to focus on the first questions he had been asked.

“Before HYDRA, I had done…milder versions of what we did,” he explains, “My experience with men has never been like that. I’ve done some back alley fucks, i know that it’s not safe practices anymore but back then that’s the only way men could really do anything together. Guys didn’t date, couldn’t do anything like that, it was just..dangerous. But with women, I did say some stuff like what we did and I could get a bit rough, although I never got so rough with them the way we were. I was dominant but I don’t think I would say I dommed them really. I did get good at paying attention to their limits, to making sure they were okay while we were doing anything that wasn’t..” he has to think for a second to find the right word, snapping his fingers when he gets it, “vanilla! Vanilla, i forgot that was the word for a second,” he chuckles.

He’s taken his hands out of his pockets now and his hands are fidgeting a bit, wringing together as they walked. HYDRA was a different story. He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to explain all of that. But Tony explaining his own traumas is helpful, more than helpful. It makes him feel less vulnerable to know they’re both sharing. “I’m..I don’t know if I’m going to do a good job explaining it. With HYDRA there’s..two parts to it I guess. The first part, letting you have control the first time, I..” he swallows thickly and tries to get the words right, “I didn’t have a choice with them. And it felt good, fuck it felt so much better than good, to be able to trust someone enough to have control when I know it wouldn’t be used against me, that I could trust you to make sure it was good and I could..enjoy submitting,” he admits, a blush building at the back of his neck. He takes longer to get to the second part of the answer, twisting the hem of his hoodie as he thinks. “I don’t know that I ever want to choke someone really. But having a hand on their neck, or their hand on my neck, not hurting them, not doing anything but just..being there, I like it. I know it’s fucked up, I know it is and I can’t tell you why, maybe it’s because I know that i’m in control and I won’t hurt them? I..” he looks down and watches his feet as they walk.

“I’m pretty sure that I like being dominant because it’s like i’m taking back power, and i’m able to use the power dynamic and make my partner feel good, and I don’t..” he blushes a bit deeper, “You’re the only one to really dom me Tony so..I’m not sure that I’m into it in other contexts but with you, I definitely enjoyed it”

[lemotmo]

.......I am so very confused by these people

Q. I'm hoping I explain this correctly because I don't want to come across as rude. I very much appreciate that you take the time to provide canon examples when you are replying to people but I was curious about your response to the anon who offered you canon examples of why the story is actually about Buck and Tommy, and not Eddie. How come those canon examples were dismissed as 'made up' but your canon examples are not 'made up'?

A. I'm assuming you're speaking of the reply to the person who took my episode examples and resent them to me saying how they were actually about Tommy and not Eddie? And I said it was made up because their argument was asinine. Their argument essentially boiled down to saying that Buck really was cursed by Billy Boils and Tommy helped 'cure' him of said curse by playing along with him as proof of his unwavering support and we were supposed to take the curse thing at face value because Tim said in an interview that it was a curse and Tommy helped fix him. But that's not an accurate description of what Tim actually said. Yes he played along with the curse bit in an interview, but literally no one else did. And you can't say we're not supposed to take Tim saying Tommy is in Buck's romantic past at face value and then turn around and say but we do have to take the curse nonsense at face value.

Then they spent 4 paragraphs on how Tommy saying Eddie was competition wasn't really Tommy saying he sees Eddie as competition. They said the word competition was an accident because he was too nervous to organize his thoughts correctly so he said the first word he could think of and that was the word competition, but that's not really what he meant (even though the word competition only ever means ONE thing and literally no one uses it accidentally) therefore that means it was a miscommunication and they're actually doing the miscommunication trope for Buck and Tommy. Then they argued that Buck also didn't mean what he said except the times he said Eddie was straight. Those were honest words but everything else Buck said was Buck lying to himself because he's afraid to admit that he's in love with Tommy. So that makes it a miscommunication on both sides. And you don't understand why I dismissed that 'argument' as asinine? Then they said that basically the episode was just really badly written and because of that it was confusing in general but basically Tommy didn't mean what he said, and Buck was only telling the truth every time he said Eddie was straight but the rest of the episode he was lying because he's afraid of his feelings for Tommy and is using Eddie as a kind of shield. It makes less than zero sense, anon. Come on, what do you want me to do with an argument like that? You can't possibly expect me to entertain it as any kind of valid argument. If you have to twist the story and yourself into that much of a pretzel to try and project your narrative onto it then the story is not being told the way you're trying to insist it's being told. It's that simple. An alleged curse, an allegedly badly written episode, and now a sister with pregnancy brain and PTSD who shouldn't be allowed to give relationship advice (something so offensive and gross that I can't properly express how gross it is btw) is the hill that they're trying to argue on. Really? Nope. I'm not going to pretend nonsense like that should be taken seriously.

Thank you Nonny!

Well then...

¯\(ツ)/¯

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If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[druap]

Hii- I...☝️🥹 um, I don't actually quite know what to say to my idol. But believe me when I say I am absolutely besotted by your art 🫶💐

I actually got introduced to your page via your COD Valentine's Day cards, and have been stalking your account consuming your art like a hungry fella since then.

Did you know: You actually inspired me and my IRL friends to do art? :3 If you don't mind, any tips for self-learning beginners? 📝

And, sorry if this is a whole lot to read—just wanted to let you know that you are such a great artist! And I hope you know that. Great is an understatement, though 🙂‍↕️

omg??? thank you so much qwq it seriously means a lot to me!! <3

a small heads up, i'm not a pro or an art teacher, so these tips are just based on my own experience as a self-taught artist:

just draw. sounds simple, but practice really does make perfect. i always struggle with motivation at the beginning of a drawing, but trust me, the flow state kicks in once you get started

references are your best friend! omg, they make such a difference, especially for bigger pieces or anything you're unsure about

learn from other artists, but don’t just copy. figure out how they do things and put your own spin on it. for me, studying comic artists helped a lot with simplifying anatomy in a way that makes sense (im still learning though xD)

don’t overwhelm yourself! focus on one thing at a time. if you’re doing a composition study, don’t get too caught up in tiny details or textures—focus on the big picture first

listen to your body and mental health. take breaks, stretch, and don’t be afraid to step away for a bit. sometimes a quick walk can clear your mind and recharge you

dont compare yourself to anyone but your past self and if you post stuff/have art blog - dont pay that much attention to likes/reblogs n etc, they dont define you or your art

more under the cut!

i also recommend to check out these: again, dont overwhelm yourself with new information, this section is more of an archive/compilation of where you can find some different stuff

YT channels

Sinix Design - I LOVE HIS TUTORIALS SO MUCH.

Ethan Becker - art tips and critisism

Adam Duff LUCIDPIXUL - honestly i dont really know how to describe his content. it feels like an art podcats but more..personal? just check his channel out and you'll see it for yourself

moderndayjames - more animation based but still a lot of helpful tutorials

Dan Beardshaw - found him through anatomy tutorials but he has A LOT MORE than just them, please check him out!!

Videos

this specific video helped me understand that light is not that complicated

in this video, the author shares how they learned art, and i think they nailed the 4th tip perfectly

another lighting video

part 1 of a "how to splash art" series which goes over almost everything you need to know. this series more of a guide cause you still need to go into a depth for each topic but i just have to share it anyways, other parts can be found in the description

Books / Libraries (google drive links)

anatomy for sculptors - helps a lot with anatomy simplification and understanding

a big library with art books and other resources

another library with some books

MORPHO BOOKS!!!

Constructive anatomy by George B.Bradgman

lmk if something doesnt work or you have something else to add!! :]

[datvtranscripts]

After the Storm Pt. 4

Check on Davrin

Davrin Masterpost

The Price of the Past Masterpost Previous: Check on Lucanis

Rook walks in to Davrin carving more small figures.

Rook: Davrin. Davrin, about Weisshaupt…

Dialogue options:

Affable: Are you okay? [1]

Stoic: You made them pay. [2]

Sad: I’m sorry. [3]

1 - Affable: Are you okay? Rook: Just wanted to make sure you're okay after… Davrin: I wouldn't say that, no. [4]

2 - Stoic: You made them pay. Rook: One less Archdemon in the world. At least you made them pay. Davrin: It wasn't enough. [4]

3 - Sad: I’m sorry. Rook: Davrin, I'm so sorry. Davrin: Yeah.

Grey Warden Rook: I've never been the most popular Warden, but the Order still runs in my blood. I never imagined a day when Weisshaupt would just… be gone.

Non-Grey Warden Rook: I can't believe Weisshaupt is gone. It's always been there, protecting the world.

Davrin: It wasn't supposed to be like this. [4]

4 - Scene continues.

Davrin: That's Rounald. Malmont. Anya. We used to argue: Who'd be the one to take an Archdemon down? Who'd die so that others could live? Not sure any of us believed it'd actually happen.

Rook: When the moment came, you did the Wardens proud.

Davrin: Did I? Because I'm still here. They're not.

Dialogue options:

Affable: I’m glad you are. [5]

Stoic: Move on. [6]

Sad: They were heroes. [7]

Grey Warden: I feel the same. [8]

5 - Affable: I’m glad you are. Rook: Personally, I'm glad you're here. We still need you. Davrin: And I need this to make sense. Rook: You're overthinking it. Davrin: Am I? A Grey Warden kills an Archdemon, they die. That's how it works. [9]

6 - Stoic: Move on. Rook: Beating yourself up about it's not going to help. It wasn't your day to go. Move on. Davrin: But it should've been my day. A Grey Warden kills an Archdemon, they die. That's how it works. [9]

7 - Sad: They were heroes. Rook: There's no getting them back. But at least they died heroes. Davrin: And I should've joined them. A Grey Warden kills an Archdemon, they're supposed to die. [9]

8 - Grey Warden: I feel the same. Rook: This whole mess is my battle more than anyone else's. I should've died before they did. Davrin: Can't help but wonder—maybe a Warden who survives an Archdemon is no Warden at all. Rook: It's in your blood. Our blood. No escaping it. Davrin: But we just did. [9]

9 - Scene continues.

Davrin: You know that. You signed up for it, too.

Rook: Who knows what happened? Maybe the gods changed things and the old rules don't apply. Why is being alive a problem?

Davrin: Because I didn't expect to be here! Grey Wardens have an expiration. It pushed me!

Rook: There's more fight to go.

Davrin: And if we manage to pull that off?

Rook: You'll do what you do best: hunt monsters.

Davrin: Plenty of people can do that! I'm talking purpose. I feel like a blade sharpened all these years to confront the worst darkness in the world. And my blade struck true at Weisshaupt. What now?

Rook: Well. You'll raise Assan to create a world where the light outshines the darkness.

Davrin: Yeah? Well, let me tell you. That…will require a lot more gingerwort truffles. (Chuckles)

Dialogue options:

Flirt (never flirted before): You can handle it. [10]

Flirt: You’re not alone. [11]

Affable: Welcome back. [12]

Sarcastic: It’s a living. [13]

Stoic: No more death wish. [14] +Davrin Approves

10 - Flirt: You can handle it. Rook: It'll work out. Someone like you, a slayer of Archdemons… Davrin: Oh, yeah? Keep going. Rook: …oh, a heroic Grey Warden… Davrin: Mm-hmm. I'm listening. Rook: …and, uh, admirer of all things Rook? Davrin: Now that you mention it, yeah. Assan: (Jealous squawk) Davrin: And you, too. I always admire the prince. [15]

11 - Flirt: You’re not alone. Rook: If you want company, I'll be there. Davrin: I was kinda hoping you'd say that. Rook: Just "kinda"? Davrin: Well, I'm not that easy to catch. Rook: Hey, I know a griffon. He'll hunt you down. Assan: (Friendly squawk) Davrin: Oh, you're in on this, too, boy? Rook: I don't think you're ever shaking him loose. Davrin: I can live with that. [15]

12 - Affable: Welcome back. Rook: That's more like it. Good to have you back. Davrin: Somebody has to feed his feathery butt. Assan: (Happy squawk) Rook: You live to serve, my friend. Davrin: Guess we're stuck with each other, boy. No getting rid of me now. Assan: (Happy squawk) Davrin: Someday I might actually know what that means. [15]

13 - Sarcastic: It’s a living. Rook: Hey, there are worse jobs than being a professional truffle hunter. Davrin: Don't start. Assan: (Indignant squawk) Rook: He seems to like the idea. Davrin: Guess we're stuck with each other, boy. No getting rid of me now. Assan: (Happy squawk) Davrin: Someday I might actually know what that means. [15]

14 - Stoic: No more death wish. Rook: I don't want to hear any more talk about dying, okay? Davrin: Fair enough. Assan: (Pleased squawk) Rook: He's counting on you. Davrin: Guess we're stuck with each other, boy. No getting rid of me now. Assan: (Happy squawk) Davrin: Someday I might actually know what that means. [15]

15 - Scene continues.

Rook: While you sort that out, maybe you and Lucanis can try to bury the hatchet?

Davrin: Yeah.

Rook: He had a rough time of it too.

Davrin: I know. That was an incredible shot he took at Ghilan'nain.

Rook: Then tell him that—because fighting each other won't help us defeat the gods.

Davrin: But we've got help: the Wardens, Shadow Dragons, Crows, Veil Jumpers—we're all in this together.

Rook: We are, but they've all got their own problems. If we want their help, we have to help them first.

Davrin: Is that a plan I hear forming?

Rook: I think it could be… Thanks, Davrin.

(If Minrathous was saved, Bloodbath is required to progress the main story. If Treviso was saved, The Cobbled Swan Case is required.)

Next: Bloodbath Next: The Cobbled Swan Case

[risrambles]

possible hot take but lowkey the reason that the hype for doomsday isn’t as high as endgame or infinity war and the the reason it’s getting more joked about is kinda bc they haven’t done much building up to the movies and nothing has really connected like it did in the other phases. like all the movies leading up to the avengers were so tightly woven into that eventual product. then phase two everything led up to civil war and such, and then obviously endgame. but phase 4 and on has jumped around so much and introduced so many characters that it’s like… we know these all won’t tie in. like we get a hawkeye show but neither protagonist is in the cast (yet), we get moon knight and not a character is in the cast (yet), we get she-hulk and not a character is in the cast (yet). they overload it with tv shows and movies that end up being one-offs bc it’s quantity over quality atp. whereas phases 1-3 all lead up to something together, this is just. kind of a mess. and i say this as someone who was in the fandom a lot in 2021 and kinda saw the beginning of the end. and i say this now as someone who loves marvel so dearly.

not saying i don’t think it’ll be good—i think it has potential. but instead of marvel being the epitome of modern superhero storytelling and being considered good media, it’s turned into more of a joke bc people a) hate too much for the wrong reasons b) the movies are actually not good c) we get one good movie or show once in a while that is actually really high quality with meaning that is immediately followed up by something less hype d) the characters are going up against things so much bigger than themselves that it’s just plain unrealistic to the MAX. like sure thanos was a Big Bad but at least it kinda seemed like an avengers level threat. all this multiverse stuff with Not Enough multiverse-level superheroes is wearing on me. not to mention they either kill their best or most interesting characters (aka wanda, who had a lot of potential) or bench them (moon knight). the strongest characters currently in rotation off the top of my head are doctor strange, loki, and sentry (who is apparently in doomsday, so that’s cool!) but honestly other than that it’s all supersoldiers or people with physical skill over the skill and power actually needed to fight god level villains.

i’m not a hater, i promise. i just miss when it wasn’t so unrealistic that it was hard to get past and have a fun time watching. (and i get that it’s movies so it can be unrealistic, but comparing it to the actually decently realist tones of the first few phases it just takes me out of it when i’m watching) it’s probably a part of the reason that people always seem to like ca:tws or the avengers or iron man, because it was smaller scale and it makes sense why it’s only those heroes in those movies. cause why is it just the thunderbolts trying to handle sentry?

take catws. it’s captain america, black widow, and falcon against hydra and more specifically the winter soldier. THAT makes sense. it makes sense why it wasn’t anyone else. it was a small scale threat that can be played off during the movie as a big one bc to the characters in the movie it is and to the ones not in it, it isn’t. the entire avengers team doesn’t have to assemble to fight the winter soldier and they don’t, which is good! Then take wandavision, where it was jimmy woo, monica rambeau, and a few others against the literal scarlet witch who was bending reality, not a single avenger really even tried to stop by. this is a situation where every avenger should have been locked and loaded and ready to step in but it just WASNT.

now remember i say this as a marvel FAN. i love marvel and ive loved marvel since i first watched captain america the winter soldier. i guess im a sucker for old marvel but it comes to a point where even though they’re doing a lot, it’s just like they’re trying too many things at once. i hold out hope for doomsday and secret wars, and i hope they wrap all of these individual projects together nicely, but i dont know. if im going to be honest, im not the biggest fan of the multiverse saga even though some of my favorite projects have come from it.

[drowsyapple]

hiiiiii i just had the worst day in a while lol 💔

so I'd like to humble request the cutest, fluffiest Caleb thing you could possibly think of 🥹

(I'm gonna do this on anon but we're moots, I'm just too shy and sad rn lol)

AWWWW ANON!! I HOPE YOUR DAY GETS BETTER <3 thank you so much for coming to me for a little pick me up :’) this is the first written work I’m putting out there (other than a headcanon) and it’s ALL FOR YOUUUUU <333 

For anyone else having a bad day, pls enjoy some domestic Caleb fluff :)) 

wc: 913

🍎🍎🍎

The rain pattered against the window in a steady, melancholic rhythm, matching the heavy weight in your chest as you trudged through the door of your shared apartment. Your day had been a relentless parade of frustrations—missed deadlines, a spilled coffee, and a crushing sense of loneliness that clung to you no matter how hard you tried to shake it.  

You kicked off your shoes with a sigh, not even bothering to turn on the entrance light as you shuffled inside. The apartment was dim, the gray afternoon light casting long shadows across the living room. You just wanted to collapse onto the couch and disappear into the cushions, letting the day dissolve into nothingness.  

But then, a warm, familiar scent curled into your senses. Vanilla, apple, and cinnamon. Your nose twitched, and your tired eyes flickered toward the kitchen.  

And there he was.  

Caleb stood by the stove, humming softly to himself as he stirred something in a pot, his broad shoulders relaxed, his movements effortless. The golden glow of the stove light haloed him in soft warmth, making the scene feel almost dreamlike. He hadn’t noticed you yet, too focused on whatever he was making, but the sight of him alone was enough to make your throat tighten.  

You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear slipped free, rolling down your cheek.  

A soft clink of the spoon against the pot. Caleb turned, and his entire expression shifted the moment he saw you. His purple eyes widened, then softened with instant understanding.  

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured, abandoning the stove in an instant.  

You barely had time to wipe at your face before his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. His embrace was warm, solid, safe—like coming home after being lost in a storm. You buried your face against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater as the dam finally broke.  

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, voice muffled against him. “I don’t even know why I’m crying—”  

“Shhh,” he soothed, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed slow circles between your shoulder blades. “You don’t have to explain. Just let it out, ‘kay? I’ve got you.”  

His voice was so tender, so unwavering, that it only made you cling tighter. He didn’t push, didn’t ask for answers—just held you, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear, his presence a silent promise that you weren’t alone.  

When your sobs finally quieted into shaky breaths, Caleb gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing away the last of your tears. His eyes searched yours, full of nothing but warmth and concern.  

“Bad day?” he asked softly.  

You nodded, sniffling. “The worst.”  

His lips curved into a small, understanding smile. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in bad-day remedies.”  

You huffed a weak laugh. “Oh yeah?”  

“Mhm.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead before guiding you toward the couch. “First step: comfort.”  

Before you could protest, he had already grabbed the softest blanket from the basket nearby, draping it over your shoulders like a cape. Then, with exaggerated care, he fluffed a pillow and placed it in your lap.  

“Second step,” he continued, straightening up, “sustenance.”  

He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with a steaming mug. The rich, sweet scent of hot chocolate, real hot chocolate he made from scratch, filled the air. You accepted it gratefully, the warmth seeping into your chilled fingers.  

Caleb knelt in front of you, his hands resting on your knees as he peered up at you with those endless amethyst eyes. “Third step,” he said, voice dropping into a playful whisper, “distraction.”  

You raised a brow. “What kind of distraction?”  

His grin turned mischievous. “The best kind.”  

Before you could react, his fingers skated up your sides, tickling mercilessly. You shrieked, nearly spilling your drink as you writhed away, laughter bursting out of you despite your earlier gloom.  

“Caleb! Stop—!” you gasped between giggles.  

He relented, but not without pressing a smug kiss to your nose. “There’s that smile,” he murmured, satisfied.  

You swatted at him half-heartedly, but your chest felt lighter already.  

Caleb settled beside you on the couch, pulling you into his side as you sipped your hot chocolate. The rain continued outside, but now it felt cozy rather than oppressive, the sound blending with the quiet hum of the apartment.  

“You know,” he said after a moment, fingers idly playing with your hair, “I was thinking we could order takeout tonight. That new place you like. And maybe put on that terrible rom-com you pretend you don’t love.”  

You tilted your head to look at him. “You’d subject yourself to that?”  

He smirked. “For you? Absolutely.”  

Your heart swelled. This man—this impossibly kind, patient, loving man—had a way of making even the worst days feel bearable.  

You set your mug aside and turned fully toward him, cupping his face in your hands. His expression softened, his eyes flickering between yours.  

“Thank you,” you whispered.  

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Always.”  

And just like that, the world felt right again.  

[pavedinashes-if]

hi sai! idk if you've answered it before, but i was wondering how the PiA world reacts to same-sex relationships and trans people. i know the content warnings sort of allude to potential negativity, but i was wondering if you could provide more details? for example how do the relationships with the ROs differ if they're same-sex vs. opposite sex, or how does a mlm relationship differ from wlw? is there any cool flavor text? or in regards to trans mcs, how are they treated by their family, and will being trans be an active part of their identity? so excited for the update!!

Hi Anon, thanks for the message. Yeah well.... since relationships are the most important part of the whole game...I will differentiate between different dynamics. This goes for relationships with the MC as much as for how the ROs present and act. Tho you should know that some ROs are acting more and other less different depending on their gender.

examples: Sparks is more or less similar no matter if male or female. Our lil redneck. Sam will show quite some big differences depending on whether they are M or F. Not all differences are visible in the beginning already but they will be there.

Regarding relationships... oh gurl [gn] tons of differences in flavour text. Oh god [f], I hope I don't promise too much lol, but to me— from what I have planned already, there's quite some differences...

Let's say...not everybody has had experiences with a same-sex relationship. Muahaha... I will def make differences. Yey yey — Here for it. I am open for suggestions tho at all times because just due to the sheer amount of possibilities some details or dynamics might slip, even if I wanted to have them in there in the first place, so please y'all, if you feel like I just missed adding something — LET ME KNOWW!!

Regarding Trans MC. Topic. Definitely. I hope I get the most important varieties because this is such a wide topic to meet as many identifications and representations as possible. But I try. I promise. It will have an influence on how MC sees themself, how intimate moments go and some more. Did I miss out on answering something??? Spoiler from the next demo: [Trans MC related]:

A slow, heavy breath escapes through your nose, the warmth briefly fogging against the mirror as your gaze lingers on your reflection. Your eyes drift, taking in every detail, every flaw—or lack thereof as you take a step back. *fake_choice [...some non-trans related choices...]

#You feel at home in your body. Finally. [[b]Trans[/b] – transitioned] *set trans 1 For the first time, you feel at home in your body. [i]Finally.[/i] There’s a quiet sense of relief. A certainty. The reflection staring back at you is [i]yours[/i], fully and completely. #You feel at peace with who you are. [[b]Trans[/b] - [i]not[/i] transitioned] *set trans 2 The reflection in the mirror is yours. Fully, completely. There’s nothing to fight, nothing to fix because there’s nothing wrong. You know who you are, and that knowledge is steady, unshaken by the expectations of anyone else. #A sense of disconnect—this isn’t you. [[b]Trans[/b] – [i]not[/i] transitioned] *set trans 2 A strange unease creeps in, a sense of disconnect—[i]this isn’t you[/i]. You recognise the shape in the mirror, but the familiarity feels forced, like an old habit rather than a truth. #The image in the mirror has always felt distant. But not for much longer.... [[b]Trans[/b] – [i]not[/i] transitioned] *set trans 2 The image in the mirror has always felt distant. [i]But not for much longer[/i]...You study yourself, detached. There’s an inevitability to it, a silent promise to yourself that [i]things will change[/i]. #You hate this body, you’re forced to live with. [[b]Trans[/b] – [i]not[/i] transitioned] *set trans 2 A bitter rage coils in your stomach. [i]You hate this body[/i], this reflection you’re forced to live with. Your fingers twitch at your sides. The frustration is thick, suffocating, settling in your gut like lead.

[burningcheese-merchant]

youll be fine merchant, after all i follow you because i like you saying things, you make things interesting in a way, im not sure how to describe it, but what i do want to say is that you dont need to feel that way, u doing fine and i hope you continue doing fine

I'm grateful for your kind words. I really am. I'm touched you took the time to say something to me. But... Idk.

I'm feeling very raw today. I want to be totally real just once. Just this one time. No sarcasm or joking around like I usually do. Be my therapist/blank wall to whom I address my words of woe for a minute. Then we can all go back to normal after that

I've been having a major crisis of self-confidence lately. Been feeling stupid. Useless. Good for nothing. Probably just the Big Sad talking but that guy hasn't shut up for an awfully long time and he's harder to tune out on some days

Writing was always an escape for me. A form of catharsis. I'm actually quite terrible at speaking to people irl. I'm very shy and awkward. Social anxiety on steroids. I always expressed myself better in writing as opposed to spoken words. Idk it just feels a lot less stifling to me. I feel more free. Less judged. More in control of my thoughts. If that makes any sense.

Bit the bullet and started posting fics on AO3 just to indulge myself. Never really expected to get any attention. There was a ship I liked and there weren't really any fics for it, so I became the change I wished to see in the world. That was all it was. You want something done right, do it your damn self.

Wrote more. Different things with different characters and different ideas. Gained a lot more traction. Caught another bullet in my teeth and made this blog. People seem to like my ideas for some reason. I start to think "hey. Maybe I really am a good writer."

Then I took a few story-shaped sledgehammers to the skull and remembered that no, I'm not. Lol.

Comparison is the thief of joy. I know that. Nobody needs to remind me. But it's easier said than practiced. Read biscuitlabyrinth's stuff and felt like a fraud. Read Jambound and felt like a skyscraper-sized fraud. It's hard not to compare yourself to others when the "others" are practically hailed as heroes by the fandom. When there are mountains upon mountains of fanart happily illustrating their work. When their story has the most hits and the most kudos and the most comments and the most bookmarks in the entire Cookie Run tag on AO3, and only receives more every passing day. When there are people who want to bind the fic and make it an actual, physical book, because they love it so much. No one has ever said or done any of that for me or my stuff. Never got even a fraction of that love or attention. Not even close. And I never, ever will.

Yeah yeah. Two cakes. Everyone has said that to me. But if you all had to choose. If you could only eat one cake while the other one went straight to the trash. You wouldn't pick mine, would you? You'd pick the other one. You'd pick Jambound. Everyone would. Even my friends on here would. Why bother wasting time and ingredients baking the thing if you know that's how it's going to be? What's the point?

I know I'm not owed success. Nobody is. It's earned. It just... hurts, I guess. It hurts to feel compelled to doubt yourself so strongly after finally allowing yourself to believe you've done a good job at something for once in your life. To feel like even when I try, even when I put my best foot forward, it's not good enough. Nobody actually cares. No one will ever think of you like they think of those other people and their work. No one will think of you at all. You're just a sad little wannabe loser, wallowing in their shadows.

I don't blame those people for these feelings. I don't blame anyone except myself. To think or do otherwise would be childish. No one is responsible for making me feel inferior/inadequate besides me. I accept that these thought and feelings are foolish. Whiny. Unfair. No one should pay them any mind. I'll sort through them on my own.

It's stupid, all of this. Oh no, some person's fanfiction is more popular than yours. Boo hoo. It's the end of the world. Stupid. It's all stupid. And yet, the feelings persist. It sucks. I don't want to feel this way. I'd rather just forget about it all and go back to being the loser who was content just writing for herself and nobody else, really. I don't look good in green, that's for sure lol. But it's hard. It's hard to let go of something that's got its jaws clenched around your neck so tight. Waiting for you to stop fighting and bleed out before it can finish its meal.

I always thought that writing was the only thing I was ever good at. That I was ever good for. Learned the hard way that that's not true. That my best was never anything but mediocre in reality. It's really no wonder Jambound is as beloved as it is. It's wonderful. Fantastic. It deserves all the praise it gets. I wish I could write half as well as that. But I don't. And now sometimes I wonder if anyone would even notice, even if I did.

I'm not happy writing anymore. Feels like it got snatched from me. The thing I love, that always brought me a measure of peace no matter how depressed I got. Gone. I can't draw worth a damn. I'm not funny. I'm not that smart. I never thought I had anything to give anyone except my writing. Now I understand that I don't have that, either. My cake sucks. No wonder everyone would rather eat theirs.

I'll get over it eventually. I'm stubborn if nothing else at all. I've got stories to tell and finish, even if they'll never mean anything to anyone except myself. Might as well. For my own sake.

There. Said my piece. Poured my miserable little heart out. Let's not talk about this anymore. Go back to enjoying the fancy, professional cake and celebrating the talented baker. Leave me to my cracked countertop covered in stale flour and rotten eggs and bland frosting. I never said anything worth listening to. I'm not sure I ever have.

No more self-pity after this, back to being a silly bozo as usual. Thanks for reading all this gunk if you bothered to for whatever reason. Y'all have a nice day. Better than mine, hopefully

[livingrief]

He's almost til the end. This may be a walk into the flames of hell, but he'll burn himself if he must. This is for her own good. He keeps repeating that in his head, like a mantra of sorts that will free him from hurting her in the meantime.

She's only just returned, he tells himself. A shock so soon will surely hurt. Will she run back to her rooms? Will she cry? No, Lachesis is a much stronger woman than to simply give in, and yet.... he cannot forgive himself tor the pain he knows he will inflict. Purposely, even.

It's for her own good. Finn is no fool to his nature nowadays. He's become a lost dog unable to kick the dust, merely continuing on with a lost sense of purpose. If Lady Ethlyn and Lord Quan saw him now....

But that's not the point. The knight grits his teeth. He can deal with being hated. He'll shelve those emotions away for later. What he needs is for Lachesis to be okay. Lachesis - his wife and the mother of his children. Lachesis, the one purpose he shared his life with and loved. But it was too late for sentimentality. He'd be doing her a kindness by shutting her out.

Lachesis rises. Good. She was always quick mentally.

But what the princess says is not nearly what he expected. Well, whatever will get her on her two feet.

"Good," he tells her. "Go and make something of yourself. The future awaits you. Forget about me. Forget the past we shared together. It means nothing anymore."

His mouth opens, startled, at her proclamation. Perhaps she didn't fully understand the extent of uselessness. Maybe she needed time to sow the seeds of discord between them. Very well. He could deal with that. He preferred to rip off the band-aid quickly and all at once but...

If she still had lingering hope in him, he would just have to wait.

He hates to see her cry, though. Finn knows it's his fault. He cannot bring anyone anything other than pain.

Finn stands, eyes lower to the ground, fingers entwined. "You'd do yourself a favor if you tore off your attachment to the past. You're wasting your breath on a ghost. A parasite. A daemon." His gaze returns to hers, but there is no light in the cold midnight blues. "Forget. Forget and move on. Fodlan will not wait for you to catch up." "And I am not someone you can rely on anymore, Lachesis. Don't waste your time on me," the words come out harsh, but that's he needs right now.

the miracle of aed?

catching up.

[kimtranssexler]

[hughesapalooza]

Across the calm sea, the first in a thousand years.

san jose sharks + disco elysium

[storytellering]

Torn apart. Inspired by Romeo and Juliet by Sergio Cupido

[nyx-thedragon]

had a thought while rewatching 92sies (and doing math homework) so here it is:

in 92sies, when you become a newsie you suddenly are able to hear the music; that's why Davey looked a bit confused during The World Will Know - he was suddenly hearing this instrumental that he's never heard before that the others are singing along to. during the end bit of Carryin' The Banner, after he ran into Jack, he couldn't hear the music because he wasn't technically a newsie yet* and just thought that the newsies were a bit crazy lol

*(he hadn't bought any papers yet; once you buy papers with the intent to sell them as a newsie, you become a newsie officially, as so deemed by the universe) (the universe being my brain when I thought of/about this lol)