#i was smiling a lot while writing this

[wildstar25]

While it goes fairly similarly to how it would in game, there's a lot of backstory related nuance that kinda shifts the entire vibe of their reunion... this is fairly long so im putting it under a read more

When the Exarch told Arsay her next destination would have her hopefully meeting with Y'shtola, Arsay was beyond excited. After the twins, Y'shtola was the next person on Arsay's list that she really, really wanted to see. She rode that enthusiasm through the entire trip into the Great Woods. Not even Emet-Selch's pompous attitude and unwanted presence could cut through Arsay's cheer. Which was likely for the best, had she not have her best friend to look forward to she'd likely have wanted to rip the ascians head off rather than entertain conversation with him.

They found themselves surrounded. Arsay's humour was NOT appreciated by Thancred 🙄. Emet made a show about leaving them to their fate. And then she heard it, the voice Arsay had been wanting to hear all day, though called by a name not her own.

It took a moment for Arsay to process it all: The new look, the fact that all these people seemed to be at her command, her intense hostility... Still, it was Y'shtola! Y'shtola through and through! Arsay's heart nearly jumped into her throat once her brain caught up to her other senses.

(I love how from far away the pixels make it look like Arsay had a big open mouth smile. She was so excited to see her friend! Were she not at multiple arrow/magic staff point she'd be running up to give Y'shtola a hug.)

Arsay thought perhaps this was a prank? A little unlike Y'shtola but then again she did have a darker sense of humour. Plus Y'shtola knows Arsay likes a good gag now and again so maybe...? But sadly Y'shtola again seriously insisted they were sin eaters so that couldn't be the case. Arsay was at a lost for words- a rarity for her.

The mere suggestion that Y'shtola could have forgotten Arsay... her heart deflated like a balloon, all the joy it once held rushed out in an instance. Personally I think Urianger was covering his ass here trying to mask his knowledge of the light corruption. Still there was no way he knew just how devastating his words were to Arsay.

No, Urianger couldn't have known that Arsay had spent much of her life believing herself to have been forgotten by her parents as they left her in the south seas for greater adventures. That they wrote her but a single missive, where in which they promised to write more. He couldn't have know how, when no other letter arrived for her, she took it as a sign of being unwanted; not worth keeping their word for. He wouldn't have known much of what Arsay does, she does in hopes to touch the life of another in such a way that they might dare think of her from time to time, even if only in passing. Urianger wouldn't have a single clue how a simple notion spoken in whisper could send Arsay down an immediate spiral.

Arsay stares at Y'shtola, hands held firm in the air, praying for Urianger to be proven wrong.

Once before has Arsay's soul been knocked clean of her body, and had it not been for the absence of said body in her immediate vision she would have sworn it had happened again. She felt numb. Any other word spoken after "The one I know not." was static to her. There was no rational thought happening behind those wide eyes. Not even a slim chance that Arsay could be considering that something was perhaps wrong with her. All she could think about was the immense and sudden heartbreak she was actively experiencing.

Meanwhile, Y'shtola struggled to come to terms with what she was hearing versus what she was seeing. Before her was a figure so immense of light aether, how could Urianger words possibly be true? She knew Arsay's aether. Such brilliance was not something she'd readily forget. In fact, she'd go as far as to say it's image plagued her mind despite her best wishes along with equally inconvenient and unsavoury thoughts. Y'shtola had been awaiting the day Arsay's aether came into view once more for gods know how long. Yet he insists that this unknown figure before her is that very same person; that this was her Warrior of Light. As much as she did not want to accept it what other rational explanation could there even be?

Y'shtola stood aback, her harsh tone wavered as she stammered in disbelief. Again she scrutinized the strange light infused aether. Though she could discern that it vaguely held the form of a person any potential detail was obscured by an intense glow that radiated from it's core. She supposed perhaps she could picture her memory of Arsay slotting into the blurry silhouette... oh by the twelve. A chill runs down her spine. Y'shtola has never been one to panic, yet if this is truly Arsay before her then that can only mean terrible, terrible things.

With the initial shock worn off things begun to come back into focus for Arsay including Y'shtola who's gaze was fixated on her, clamouring for answers. As if on cue her voice returned to her. Despite this not being the reunion Arsay had imagined, out came the words she would have said regardless.

Not a hint of resentment carried through her tone. If anything, she sounded as if she was amused by the situation. As much as it hurt to think that the person Arsay considered to be her best friend had forgotten the appearance of her aether (something she understood as being unique to her); Arsay couldn't help but feel like she should have anticipated it. Sure, it had only been a month for Arsay, but it was three years for Y'shtola. That's quite some time to be apart. More than enough for Arsay to no longer be relevant enough to be recalled from time to time in Y'shtola's daily life. The irony of it stung. Arsay had only just begun to believe she wasn't as forgettable, as insignificant, to others as she feared... Funny how things turn out. She felt foolish to have overestimated the depth of their friendship. Guilty too for burdening someone she cared for with her own lofty expectations. Arsay only had herself to blame for this outcome. One would think she'd learn her lesson by now. What a laugh. Compelled by this joke only she was privy to, a short chuckle escaped from her lonesome smile.

The familiar voice rang through her ears and stirred her heart. There was no denying it. Her friend was finally here ...And Y'shtola welcomed her with an ambush. Delightful. She breathed out a heavy sigh. This was not at all how Y'shtola had wanted their meeting to go but she'd not let herself be vexed by such things. She pushed the tinge of dissatisfaction to the back of her mind. Arsay of all people would understand the things one must do to protect others. This greeting would be water under the bridge to her in but a tic. What mattered most is that the Night's Blessed were no longer under any (immediate) perceived threat. Her dear friend's aether on the other hand... Her head began to swirl with questions. Questions surely the Warrior of Darkness could soon help her attain the answers for. The thought alone brought it's own sense of relief. A smile tugged at the corners of Y'shtola's lips. There was no denying how happy it made her knowing her wait was over.

The tension in the air settled along the fur on Arsay's tail. She gave Y'shtola nod of acceptance, mindlessly forgiving her when in truth the apology felt hollow to Arsay. It wasn't at all what she wanted to hear but it wasn't as if hearing anything else from Y'shtola would help ease her nerves. It is what it is. At the very least, she was happy that Y'shtola looked to be in good health. Best focus on that for now.

--

Arsay and the rest followed Y'shtola from a distance quietly through the woods. Even through the canopy strong light polluted the forest floor. It gave Arsay a headache, much like everywhere else she had been to on the First. She often relied on her headband to block out the worst of the sun's rays back home but it did nothing to defend her light soaking eyes from the ambient brightness. She had been getting used to it but for some completely and totally unknown reason it began to feel worse.

Now and again Arsay would spot Y'shtola looking back over her shoulder towards her. Each glance had Arsay suddenly anticipating, hoping, that Y'shtola was about to call her over, and when that did not happen it made Arsay like a fool all over again. Foolish, and then frustrated. A degree of frustration that could be easily alleviated were she allowed to wander off and drive her knives into whatever foul beast first crossed her path. Alas, Arsay had to stay with the pack and sit with her growing bad mood she was not supposed to have. Her cheeks began to feel weary from the smile she kept plastered on her face.

~

Y'shtola guided the scions along the path to Slitherbough at a steady pace. Though she maintained a lead on them by no means was she walking fast enough that Arsay couldn't catch up should she want to do so. That's what Y'shtola had come to expect from Arsay; if the opportunity presented itself, Arsay would not hesitate to encroach on Y'shtola's personal space. It was a habit Y'shtola was not all that fond of initially- it was overwhelming for someone who more often kept to herself- but in due time Y'shtola found herself yearning for Arsay's touch. A terrible yearning which only grew stronger in its absence. Though she tried with all her might not to, Y'shtola would quickly glance back at the group only to be disappointed that the insufferably bright glow of aether was just as far from her as it way before. For Arsay to be so unlike herself... perhaps it was not only her aether which has been afflicted. The thought gave Y'shtola pause, the roots of worry began to sprout within her.

She also had to admit there was the slim chance that being held at weapon point and accused of being a sin eater had upset Arsay. But, It could have been worse. At least Y'shtola didn't frame her for regicide. Y'shtola's brow furrowed. There was no way Arsay could actually be mad at her. Y'shtola has given her colder shoulders than that in the past and Arsay had brushed it off without issue. It had to be something else.

--

Be it her worry for Arsay or due to her general dismay of the earlier happenings that she could not seem to shake, Y'shtola was no longer in the mood to let sleeping dogs lie and Thancred had made the unfortunate decision of opening his mouth. She'd not been a fan of how he had been conducting himself to say the least. Nor was she willing to let his inability to move on rob a young girl of her autonomy. Tongue as sharp as ever, Y'shtola made her opinion clear and sent the man running with his tail between his legs. Minfillia too sulked out not long after.

~

Arsay, bearing witness to this, felt just awful for Minifilla (as she called her). The smile she had held onto dropped the instant she heard the cave doors close. While Arsay is usually in favour of Y'shtola's tenancy to speak her mind so openly, all the aggravation that had been stewing inside her had now suddenly come to a boil. She had to lash out. She wanted to be mad at Y'shtola, for anything, because Arsay still felt deep down like it wasn't right to hold her responsible for the thing she was actually upset about.

"Really, Y'shtola? You had to bring that up just now?" Arsay crossed her arms, unimpressed. "You're the last I'd consider to come to Thancred's defence." Y'shtola's eyes narrowed, "I am not indifferent to Thancred's troubles. Nevertheless, I will not apologize for holding him to a higher standard after all these years. He has ever been a man of considerable resolve, and that is what I will continue to expect." "Then I best warn you: expectations only lead to future disappointment." The accusatory tone in Arsay's voice made Y'shtola tail twitch. "Excuse me? Arsay, what has come over you? You've not at all been yourself. Pray tell, have you felt any considerable changes since defeating the light-" "Perhaps, Y'shtola, you should be more concerned with how you have changed." Arsay cuts her off with a hiss.

Silence. You could the tension in the air with a knife. Arsay turns on her heels, "I-." she stops herself when she heard the crack in her voice. With a click of her tongue she flees out through the cave doors as fast as she could.

Urianger, who had been a fly on the wall for their heated back and forth, clears his throat. "Should thine wish be to give chase, thou can entrust in me the beginning duty of reviewing the tablet." Y'shtola let out a sigh. "I realize I am not as I was on the Source, but I cannot say I regret the decisions that allowed me to come this far." She proclaims largely for her own sake before turning to Urianger. "Allow me a moment to settle this. I shall return shortly."

--

All of that finally leads into this scene which actually the first time I ever tried to pose and write a story type scene. So excuse the slight jank of it (and the fact that Arsay's character voice has absolutely shifted some since then. Also ignore the fact that Arsay is wearing the darklight bracers in that old pose. It was taken at a point before I was using mods and I was still figuring out Arsay's shadowbringer glam- they were a hold over from previous expansion's glams)

the director commentary for their make up is Y'shtola finally accepts that Arsay is mad at her but is still defending her actions because it was the right call at the time. Again she tries to explain that Arsay's aether is fucked up in a way only to be cut off by Arsay airing out one of her deepest insecurities- her begging for validation. It's only then that Y'shtola realizes what exactly Arsay is upset over- and that her friend had absolutely 0 clue as to the light corrupting her aether. In a moment of absolute kindness from Y'shtola: instead of explaining then and there of Arsay's suspected light poisoning, she tells Arsay exactly what she wants and needs to hear. (And its this act of kindness that later becomes the catalys for Arsay realizing how much she loves Y'shtola upon learning about the light corruption and putting two and two together that Y'shtola was way nicer to her then she could have been in that moment.)

This is like maybe the 1st time Arsay has a public-ish breakdown and it really is "out of character" for her. But I cannot stress enough how much this shit triggered her and how bad she is at handling negative emotions. Like she really has a problem of not letting herself feel bad about anything and all that pent up stress gets funnelled directly into fighting. Its super cool and normal if you think about it and totally healthy if you ask her. When she cant channel that rage through her knives it escapes other, less productive ways. She did immediately felt awful about snapping at Y'shtola. Even if she wanted to be mad at her it wasn't right and Arsay knew this. Literally hearing that Y'shtola cared about her and thought of her was all she needed to put herself back into order. Y'shtola, still worried about Arsay's aether, was more than willing to move past this awful reunion of theirs and continue on just as they had been back before she was sent to the first.

And from there everything is pretty much normal! They made up, Arsay caught up to Minifillia and Runar, Y'shtola went to work on the tablet, story stuff happens, Arsay has her oh moment, they get together and so on.

Thank you so much @darkmadorz for giving me the excuse to write about this!

[justpeaxchy]

Oo, okay, so I know you write romantic stuff (all amazing btw), but if you’re up for it, maybe some platonic head-canons? Like, Hiccup with a reader who is his like adopted younger sister or something?

No pressure!!!

A/n: thank you!! I had so much fun writing this and a big ol' smile was on my face the whole time! (I was able to complete this request much quicker than usual lol, so here you go!)

Warnings(?): mentions of a small wound & bleeding, other than that, none.

'You Know I Love You So.'

First of all, Hiccup would be the best brother to have, no joke.

He's there for you when you need comfort, a good laugh, and when you just need company.

He's very protective, though. Sometimes he can go a little far, but he doesn't want you to think he's trying to control you or something, so he watches from afar if you're ever doing anything that may be out of your comfort zone.

*Cough* (out of his comfort zone.)

When and if you're old enough, he'll definitely take you out on flights with him and Toothless to find new islands together for his map.

He really enjoys showing you the things he makes too. If Astrid isn't the first person around him at that moment, he's gonna ramble all about it to you.

He doesn't feel awkward for doing so because he knows you'll listen. But he does feel bad if it's towards the night because you end up falling asleep most of the time while he's still talking.

He just doesn't fully know that you find his voice soothing enough to fall asleep to.

This man loves to tickle his sibling. You can't tell me otherwise.

If you're not waking up in the mornings when it's time for you to, he goes to his last option, which is to force you out of bed by tickling you.

He has the most cocky smirk on his face when you admit defeat and start getting up. You're quick to wipe that off, though, when you punch his arm.

(You got that idea from Astrid.)

When he sees you together with Astrid, this guy is in Cloud 9.

He absolutely adores it when you two spend time together, it makes his heart melt seeing that you're comfortable with her.

Hiccup forgets that you're actually adopted into his family sometimes, it feels like you've been there since the beginning. He was 10 when you officially became his adopted sister and, although it took some time for you to warm up to him, he began to love having you as his sibling with each passing day.

The first time he actually said the words "I love you" was when you had a cut on your arm and you were crying because of the sight of blood. You had accidentally scratched yourself against a tree branch when you tried following him into the forest.

Hiccup was wrapping the wound with a cloth, feeling guilty that he couldn't do anything to stop the cut from happening in the first place, and seeing the tears in your eyes didn't make it any better for him.

He comforted you the best he could while he was attending to the cut, and continued to once he was done. He gently held your shoulders as he hesitated to say what was on his mind before he spoke: "Hey.. I'm sorry I wasn't looking out better for you back there.. I love you, okay? I'll make sure you won't get hurt next time."

He thought you wouldn't be okay with him saying something like that yet, but when he noticed the small smile forming on your face, he was immensely relieved.

Overall, Hiccup is so glad that you came into his life as his sister. He always assumed that he wouldn't have the opportunity to enjoy being with a sibling, but when you came, he didn't have to worry about those thoughts anymore.

[smilesrobotlover]

Chapter 2- The Upheaval

First|| -> next

AO3

Summary: it’s been three years since Calamity Ganon attacked Hyrule, and everyone was recovering well from it. Until the strange substance gloom appeared, making people sick when they touched it. Wanting to find answers, Zelda and the champions went beneath the castle against her father’s wishes to try to solve the problem. Meanwhile, the King of Hyrule is desperately trying to figure out more about the gloom, though no one knows the true danger lurking beneath Hyrule…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world was bathed in golden sunlight, with bright green trees scattered across the town and the castle courtyards. It was warm, with a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and grass, making a quiet shh sound through the air. The birds were chirping cheerily as they flew through the wind, and it overall was a beautiful day. Yet none of it calmed the unease Rhoam had lurking in his heart. He felt nauseous as he walked through the halls of the castle, his chest feeling as if it were constricted which made his breathing shallow. Sweat dripped down his forehead as a lump remained in his throat, but he made an effort in hiding his true feelings from everyone that saw him as they passed down the halls. Fortunately there weren’t a lot of maids or guards in the hallways, and he was mostly alone with his two bodyguards: a Hylian from Hateno named Ammon and a Hylian from Lurelin named Orman. But even then he didn’t let his true emotions out. He needed to be strong right now, to be an anchor and a sign of hope for his people. Especially now more than ever.

Three years. Three years have passed since the calamity, yet Hyrule was already showing signs of danger. A strange substance called gloom had appeared in the castle; it stuck to the walls, the floors, and poisoned the trees that were nearby. The gloom was only there for a month, yet it spread all the way to Castle town, wreaking havoc on the people. Zelda made an effort to research the gloom, sending out researchers to make sure it wasn’t malice. To their relief, it wasn’t, yet to their despair it was far worse than malice. Anyone who came into contact with malice would get severe burns from the substance—it was painful, but easily treatable. Gloom, however, fatigued those who touched it. It sucked all hope and life out of them, and all they could do was to lay there until the terrible feelings went away. It took weeks for the first person infected to feel well, and the hospitals were being filled quickly with patients who remained stagnant in their recovery. Many researchers, Zelda included, had theories that the substance was a strange fungi or mold, but none of its characteristics matched such things. It was becoming overwhelming, and a dreadful thought of another disaster striking their fragile and recovering kingdom was becoming too much for Rhoam. The calamity took its toll on him, and he’s surprised he didn’t suffer a heart attack during it.

He took over every responsibility he was able to during the calamity in an attempt to get Zelda to focus on awakening her power. It was the only piece they needed, therefore it was top priority. Everyday being met with scorn, stress, criticism, and fear over what would befall his kingdom.

Her kingdom.

His wife’s responsibility, soon to be his daughter’s. He’d done everything he could to make sure she still had a kingdom to inherit. But now he feared it was going to crumble at their feet with this new threat. They couldn’t handle another calamity.

And Rhoam could feel himself growing ill from the fear.

A desire to take over everything again so his daughter wouldn’t have to endure any of the stress almost overtook him, but he knew he couldn’t do it this time. Zelda was twenty now—she was capable, strong, and despite still being timid, she was a remarkable leader. He didn’t trust her back then and it nearly cost him his life. He couldn’t make that same mistake now. He couldn’t hurt her again.

Rhoam made it to his room and he nodded at his bodyguards, who understood that he wished to be left alone. They remained outside his door as he entered, ignoring the strong desire to fall onto his soft bed. Instead, he walked across the large room, opened the door to his balcony, and looked out across his kingdom, soon to be Zelda’s. He allowed his mind to go blank as he stared, Castle town almost looking like a ghost town as most of its inhabitants were either inside or moved out.

It was far too similar to the calamity.

A gentle knock came at his door, and he turned as it opened slowly. To his surprise, his daughter peeked her head through, her brows drawn together as she nervously eyed Rhoam. She rarely came into his room.

“Zelda,” he greeted, forcing a smile as he went to greet her. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Zelda also forced a small smile back and stepped inside. She stopped right in front of him and stood up straight as if she were a soldier awaiting orders. It hurt Rhoam’s heart to see his own daughter acting in such a way around him, but he couldn’t blame her. It was his own fault for such a dynamic happening.

“Father, I came to ask you something,” she started, her voice soft and nervous. She was going to ask him something he didn’t approve of. It was all too familiar to him. “This gloom is growing dangerous, and we need to find a way to deal with it.” she shifted slightly, her hands fidgeting with each other. “But the only way we can do that is to find out where it’s coming from.”

Rhoam let out an exasperated sigh. He knew it. “Zelda, going beneath the castle is forbidden. It has been for thousands of years.”

“I-I know, but the further we go under the castle, the more gloom that shows up.” She straightened herself again, clearly trying to appear confident. “It’s not just on the walls, but it’s in the air.”

“Then it is no place for you, my daughter,” Rhoam said simply. Even if the gloom originated from beneath the castle, he wasn’t going to let his daughter of all people explore it. She frowned slightly and sighed.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why we’re not allowed down there? Nothing from my studies answered why, none of the kings and queens before us answered why. Why must we follow their directions blindly when clearly the answer to the gloom is where it’s forbidden?”

Rhoam thought for a moment. He couldn’t blame Zelda for wanting answers; he remembered he was the same way when he first married into the family. But his wife made it very clear to not travel below the castle. He found it silly, but he knew better than to question the royal family. After a moment of thinking, he finally shook his head.

“We must look into it more before we break the most ancient rule,” he finally said, and Zelda’s frown deepened.

“We won’t have time. I have a feeling that something is going to happen. Don’t you feel it too? The air isn’t right today.”

Rhoam closed his eyes and nodded. He was too tired to argue this further. “I fear disaster will strike if we were to go down there. My decision is final, Zelda. Give it more time.”

Zelda’s glare melted away, and instead of her usual upset response to rejection, it was a resigned acceptance.

“Very well, father,” she muttered, turning away to leave the room.

“I’m sorry,” Rhoam quickly called out, wanting to ease the tension slightly, but Zelda only forced another smile. She left the room quickly and Rhoam let out a sigh, allowing himself to finally lay on the bed. The tension in his head cleared slightly as he rubbed his temples and he groaned. He hated it, he hated being king, he hated seeing Zelda look at him the way she did, he hated feeling like every action he took was a mistake, he just hated it all.

Rhoam laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling blankly. He almost couldn’t wait for Zelda to become queen so he didn’t have to tell her “no” anymore, but he knew he needed to wait. She needed to feel ready for taking on such a tremendous responsibility unlike him when his wife died. But he felt years of his life being stripped away from the stress of it all, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

A beeping sound broke him from his thoughts, and he sat up, looking for where the sound came from. He heard it again and he looked down at himself, spotting his Sheikah slate that was glowing. Since the three years, Purah and Robbie wasted no time in developing more of the slates for those of importance. They only made a few; one for Zelda, Impa, the champions, the first knight, and of course, himself. They were developing more slates for the leaders of the different towns and villages, that way they could have quick contact in case disaster struck, but production was paused to find a cure for gloom. Rhoam admittedly used to find the bits of technology that weren’t the guardians or divine beasts rather childish, but since the calamity, he grew to have a greater appreciation of all of it. Quick communication (though it was rather finicky depending on where they were) was remarkably convenient, and teleporting to the different towers across Hyrule saved days of time. The things technology was capable of doing were incredible.

He only wished it wasn’t so confusing.

Rhoam frowned at the screen as he tapped several buttons, opening the map at least twelve times before finally getting to what beeped at him in the first place. To his surprise and dread, it was a message from Impa. Her message read:

I found something at the Great Plateau. Come quickly.

He reread the short message, rubbing his head tiredly. It was a concerning message to receive from Impa. Why did she need him of all people? What did she find that required the king’s attention? He was also frustrated at how vague it was—Impa normally gave very detailed explanations in her messages, so what did she find that caused her to be so vague? He hopped off his bed, not wanting to waste anymore time. Rhoam trusted Impa, and he knew that she needed him if she requested him personally.

He left his room, giving his guards a nod and pulling out his Sheikah slate. It took a long moment until Rhoam figured out how to teleport both him and his guards to the Great Plateau, but soon they disappeared in a blue light. The feeling of his body dissipating then materializing in a new area made him far more nauseous than before, and he stumbled slightly on the tower. Orman rested his hand on his shoulder to steady him, which helped.

“I’m alright,” he muttered after his vision cleared, and he straightened his back despite the slight vertigo. He faced the Great Plateau, a place he grew all too familiar with during the calamity. Glancing down at his Sheikah slate, Rhoam opened Impa’s message again, using his pointer finger to type his own message to her.

Where are you?

His bodyguards watched amused as he fumbled with the thing, finally sending the message before letting out a sigh. The air was calm here, but he did feel the unease in the world that Zelda had mentioned. Nausea built up in him again, and he decided to sit down on the tower while he waited for Impa to respond. His guards stared for a moment, standing in front of him with their weapons in their hands as if an attack were to happen at any moment. Eventually, Orman stepped closer to the king, his spear put away.

“Are you alright, my King?” He asked, and Rhoam only waved his concern away. He was always so compassionate.

“I’m alright… I’m just tired.”

“Is it the gloom?”

Rhoam didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. The gloom was worrying everyone after all. But still, he didn’t want to seem… vulnerable to his own guards. He was always a hardened soldier, being the first knight of Hyrule before becoming the prince consort. Yet here he was, on the verge of a breakdown.

Orman didn’t press further to Rhoam’s relief, and his Sheikah slate finally beeped in his hands. The king scrambled to open the message, excitedly reading what Impa said.

At the cabin by Owa Daim Shrine.

He let out a sigh and stood up, facing the direction to the shrine. If he recalled correctly, the shrine was on a cliff side, which then led to the cabin across the cliff. He supposed it’d be quicker to teleport there, but…

No, figuring out how to teleport would take too long, as would trying to get down from the cliffside safely. Rhoam had a paraglider on him at all times, but his guards didn’t. It would be better to walk.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking to the opening in the ground on the tower. It took a long moment to get down since they had to climb to different platforms surrounding the tower, and Rhoam made a note to have his guards carry around paragliders to make traveling easier (though Rhoam rarely traveled out of the castle). He finally landed on the ground, stretching out his sore arms with Ammon close behind. Orman took the longest, losing his patience when he finally reached the platform and opting to jump off instead of climbing. Rhoam felt his heart stop when he landed from such a height, but the tall man was perfectly fine, simply brushing himself off. He let out a relieved sigh and faced south, marching towards the cabin with his guards behind him.

The Great Plateau was a place Rhoam and his guards grew familiar with since it was where they escaped to during the calamity. Many soldiers were wounded and left behind in battles throughout the kingdom, and Rhoam, having just escaped the castle, made an effort to gather them to the Temple of Time where they could get help. The healers in the sacred place helped his soldiers, meanwhile the king traveled around the plateau, killing all monsters and guardians that threatened his men. He remembered the days staring at the castle that was overflowing with malice, with red glowing lights of guardians surrounding what was once his home, praying to Hylia that Zelda was somewhere safe. The memories from the plateau weren’t entirely pleasant since Rhoam was filled with anxiety over his kingdom and daughter, but he couldn’t help but feel strangely nostalgic as he passed by Eastern Abbey. During the hardest moment of his life, it was the first time his world was quiet, and he was alone. Sometimes he missed the quiet nights he spent in the Forest of Spirits, or the peaceful mornings on Mount Hylia, but he supposed it was the price for being King.

He only hoped Zelda would at least get those quiet moments when she became queen.

Almost on instinct, he sent a prayer to Hylia, something he did so often during the calamity. He prayed that Zelda would not have to suffer the same way he did, that she would be safe, and that she would be a powerful queen to her people. The prayer was quick, but it filled him with some peace. The goddesses did well watching over her after all.

It didn’t take long for the group to reach the cabin, and Rhoam quickly refocused his attention on the task at hand. It was silent save for the rustle of leaves on the trees, and the cabin seemed strangely empty. He walked up to the door and let out a sigh, knocking on it three times.

“Impa,” he called out, opening the door, “it’s King Rhoam, I—”

Rhoam stopped when he peeked inside the room. It was messy in the cabin, with some papers scattered about and random decorations on the table and dressers. But at the end of the table, he found a large man clad in red, with a mask covering his face.

“Kohga?” Rhoam blurted out, stepping into the room fully. Ammon quickly squeezed past Rhoam, putting himself in front of the king protectively.

“That’s Master Kohga to you, thank you very much,” the Yiga clan leader corrected, leaning against the chair casually. “About time you’d get here, you sure kept me waiting.”

Rhoam stared for a moment, blinking at him in disbelief. “You—did you send the message?”

Kohga took out a Sheikah slate, waving it around. “Yes.”

Fury bubbled within Rhoam. Of course. Goddesses of course this would happen to him. Amongst the catastrophe that is the gloom, of course something would happen that would waste his time.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered, spinning around and leaving the cabin abruptly.

“W-wait! Your Highness–” Kohga suddenly appeared right in front of Rhoam, smoke and talismans fluttering in the king’s face. “You came all this way and now you’re gonna leave—”

“I don’t have time for your pranks, Kohga,” Rhoam snapped, “I’m going back to the castle.”

“Hold on!” Kogha put his hands on Rhoam’s shoulders to stop him from walking, but a smack from Orman’s spear made them draw back. Ammon once again put himself between the two despite being half their size, and Kohga finally backed away with an annoyed huff.

“What do you want, Kohga?” Rhoam finally asked, fury apparent in his voice. “How did you get Impa’s Sheikah slate? Did you steal it from her?”

“No no no!” Kohga denied. “I would never steal from Impa! Maybe if it was Link or someone else, yes I would, but I would never steal from Impa—”

“Then why do you have her Sheikah slate? Where is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her sister right now, calm down. I just needed her slate so I could message you,” Kogha poked Rhoam in the chest harshly, and the king’s glare deepened. “Y’see, I found something on this plateau that requires the king’s attention. Obviously.”

“Why didn’t you just request an audience with me?” Rhoam asked, watching as Kohga began pacing in front of him.

“Oh come on, that would’ve taken weeks! You’re a popular guy, you know that? And besides, why would anyone let me, the master of the Yiga, into the castle? Think about it,” Kohga glanced down at Ammon. “Short-stack right here would’ve gutted me alive.”

Rhoam sighed and put his hand on Ammon’s shoulder to calm him, and he stepped closer to Kohga. “Alright. What is so important that you took a classified piece of technology from my daughter’s advisor to contact me?”

Kohga was suddenly at his side, his arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. “Well I’m glad you asked, ‘ol Rhoam-y boy.”

Rhoam pulled away and glared at him. “Don’t call me that. And stop touching me.”

Kohga ignored him and pointed back to the north. “The Forest of Spirits! That’s where I need to show you!”

Rhoam groaned, rubbing his aching head. “ And why didn’t you just ask me to meet you there?”

“Because I need to exercise my legs. Now come on, Rhoam-y boy!”

Rhoam only watched as Kohga ran ahead, who was already losing his breath.

“Are you seriously going to humor this guy?” Orman asked as he walked up next to Rhoam. The king only sighed. He knew better than to trust the Yiga; they helped save the kingdom, which couldn’t be ignored, but it didn’t erase the things they did in the past. Admittedly, he didn’t know if he could trust Kohga, but his daughter trusted him… so…

“Maybe he does have something important to show me,” Rhoam simply answered, not wanting to argue further, and he began to walk to Kohga who was panting for air. He heard his guards’ footsteps behind him, but they sounded reluctant as they crunched the dead leaves beneath them.

Rhoam made sure to keep his distance from Kohga as they walked, which wasn’t very easy seeing how the man could barely run. Though Rhoam couldn’t judge him too much, since he found himself out of breath as they walked up a few slopes.

It felt like hours until the group finally reached the Forest of Spirits, time feeling like it was being thrown away the longer they took. The more he walked, the more anxious he felt, and he couldn’t help but eye the trees around him. Kohga was rambling ahead of them, talking about walking trees, cave monsters, and Talus’s with bokoblins making camp on them. Absurd things no doubt, and Rhoam couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with what he was going to show him, but he chose to ignore him anyways. After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Rhoam finally stopped, his patience growing thin.

“Kohga, where in these woods are we headed to?”

Kohga stopped and turned around, his hand on his chest as if he were offended. “Patience Rhoam-y boy, goddesses.”

“I told you to stop calling me that—”

“A-HA!” Over there!” Kohga suddenly shouted, sprinting to the north of the plateau. Rhoam only glanced back at his guards, who gave him uncomfortable looks. The group jogged to keep up with Kohga, who went back to rambling.

“You see, I was walking around these woods… where I found a strange structure built by nature,” he panted in between breaths, turning his head back occasionally. “It’s not actually in the woods, but it’s closeby. A strange structure that may mean something important!”

It was clear that Kohga was amping up the dramatics, but Rhoam couldn’t tell if it was because the Yiga leader was just a dramatic person, or if he was being genuine. He just prayed that this wasn’t a waste of time. Kohga suddenly sprinted ahead and ran out of the trees, continuing to ramble as Rhoam pumped his legs to keep up.

“Personally I think it’s truly a piece of art, but I had to see what the king would say if he were to see it—”

Kohga abruptly stopped, and Rhoam rammed right into his back. He peeled himself away from the man, huffing as he straightened his beard. Kohga only shuffled his feet as if nothing happened, growing noticeably uncomfortable.

“Uh-oh.”

Rhoam frowned at the strange behavior Kohga was now exhibiting, and he moved to his side.

“What are you—” Rhoam began to ask, but he turned his head to see what Kohga was staring at, and dread sank into his stomach.

Gloom. Gloom that covered the cobblestones and grass in large puddles, gloom that covered the shrine, turning the ethereal blue light into a sick red, gloom that was a mist coming out of the ground around the shrine.

No.

It was spreading.

The silence was heavy as Rhoam stepped ahead, staring at the puddles of gloom that was scattered across the ground. He felt his throat close up as he got closer to one, nausea assaulting his stomach. Goddesses, it was spreading. It was no longer in Castle town, it was on the Great Plateau.

Where else had it spread? How far would it go?

“Well, this is not what I wanted to show you,” Kohga suddenly spoke up, staring at the ground around him. “This uh… wasn’t here an hour ago.”

Rhoam turned to stare at Kohga, his brows pinched together. It was spreading fast, it seemed. Goddesses…. What could he do? There wasn’t a cure from gloom poisoning, there wasn’t a way to remove the gloom, he felt… helpless.

Except…

Beneath the Castle…

Of course—of course, how could he be so foolish?

Zelda was right. It seemed the only way to deal with the gloom was to explore where it was forbidden. They needed to get down there, to find answers…. Maybe there was a way to remove the horrid gloom. Maybe there was a way to save the kingdom once again. The king found himself by the shrine, the panel flickering as gloom covered most of it. He still felt a strong sense of dread, but he had to push it away, they needed to act now.

“King Rhoam?” Orman called out. He was across the pond where Rhoam stood, with Ammon and Kohga further back. Rhoam took a deep breath and nodded at his guard, pushing the ill feelings back to make way for the motivation.

“We’re going back to the castle, and we’re going to explore deep into its depths,” he explained simply. “Zelda is right, the answer to this gloom may be down there. We cannot dawdle any longer.” He turned back to the shrine, staring at the gloom infecting it. “This gloom will spread further throughout the kingdom. We must stop it before it gets to that point.”

“Well it’s a good thing I did call for you then, huh?” Kohga called out, but Rhoam glared at him. He truthfully didn’t want to admit that whatever Kohga had planned was actually useful, and he simply turned to look at his guards.

“Let’s head back to the castle so we can—”

A sudden heave of the earth cut him off, and he fell back onto the panel of the shrine. His vision went white for a moment as his head smacked the panel, and his hand planted itself onto a gloom puddle. The strange sensation of the gloom beginning to worm its way into him caused him to flinch back, and he sat up away from the horrid substance. His head was aching worse than before, his hands felt numb, but from what he felt he wasn’t actually poisoned with gloom to his relief. When he glanced to see if the others were alright, he saw that Kohga was still standing, though looking confused, while his guards were on the ground. Rhoam attempted to scramble to his feet, but the earth heaved again, this time shaking violently. Dust flew into his eyes, immediately blinding him, and he covered his face with his sleeve. The earth roared around him, the sound of shaking trees, rocks, and the shrine flooding his ears, so much so he could barely hear his guards shouting for him. The king grabbed onto the shrine behind him, pulling himself up, but his hand once again touched the gloom covering the shrine. Dread clenched his heart, and he pulled away, only to fall back to the ground. He looked up again to see his guards sprawled out on the ground, Kohga missing, and rocks falling out of the sky.

“Oh goddesses,” he prayed, watching in horror as he spotted figures of islands in the clouds appearing as rocks fell from them, being trailed by a mysterious green light. Many of the rocks fell around them, which made the shaking worse for them. They were unsafe here and they needed to get away. Somehow.

“A-Ammon! Orman!” He called out, scrambling to his feet so he could meet with his guards. “We need to get out of h—”

Before he could finish, a loud crack from the ground interrupted him, and the ground suddenly gave way. Rhoam could only gasp as he fell backwards, plunging into darkness, with the light of the world growing smaller and smaller.

[tunastime]

CLASSIFIED

HASA Interspace Investigation Coalition Investigator Reassessment Team

For: the Mission Critical Event Occurring on Stardate 2104.119

Stardate: 2104.123, Location: HCS Influence

Responses recorded using the Automated Question and Answer System (AQNA) aboard the HCS Influence.

Recorded responses enclosed.

Begin transcribed data.

Interview for: IIC Employee #7717

Stated Name: Hels

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]: Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Subject (Hels) [Recorded Verbal Response]: Well that’s an easy question. We got ambushed, that's what f—ing happened. It was supposed to be a standard datum extraction from a site that was supposed to be abandoned, because nobody decided it would be a good idea to check again. So we got ambushed mid-mission. That's what happened. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the event that triggered the call-back sequence? Hels: What, you want me to draw you a diagram? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: So no diagram? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: The drop-squad successfully made ground contact after about half an hour of survey on our end. We assumed based off of initial information and our scans, that the site was uninhabited. I mean—it’s a decommissioned testing facility for something way more boring than what we’re usually sent for. Why the f— would there be… things living there. Things. They weren’t human. They weren’t me either. We triggered the call-back sequence because I watched everything go white so fast I thought I was seeing the inside of my skull. Ex is the only reason I got out alive. I’m sure he’s… thrilled. AQNA: Were you unable to retrieve the body and equipment of [#7716]? Hels: I didn’t see him. On account of the pulse grenade. Did you watch the footage, or should I be playing narrator? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Hels: I don’t know where he is. I don’t know what they did to him. We lost all his vitals when the pulse fried our equipment at the site.  Interviewer: Can you elaborate on the status of [#7716]? Hels: What do you mean elaborate? What—he’s probably dead. Is that what you want to hear? He’s f—ing dead. He’s dead, you piece of shit machine. Go ask somebody else what they think. [No AQNA Text Question Generated] Interviewer: Can you speak to [#6763]’s competence as potential squadron leader? [No verbal recorded response available]

SESSION END

Interview for: IIC Employee #6763

Stated Name: Exania

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]:  Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Subject (Exania) [Recorded Verbal Response]: We failed to complete our extraction procedure. I was able to reach the data site within an hour of touchdown, alongside the rest of the team. We successfully retrieved the abandoned facility data within our allotted time frame, but on the way back to extraction, we were ambushed and caught in the line of fire of the inhabitants that had taken over the facility. I was able to successfully extract the bridge crew and one other member of the drop-squad. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the events that triggered the call-back sequence? Exania: We were attacked? Someone started shooting. Someone threw a magnetizer and a pulse grenade. The two other drop-squad members took a majority of the flash, but it was bright. Everywhere was... painfully bright. I don't have much more to say on that. I just acted in the best interest of the team as second in command. AQNA: Were you unable to retrieve the body and equipment of [#7716]? Exania: He’s dead. What did you want us to do? Retrieve a handful of charred up equipment? I don’t think so. AQNA: Can you elaborate on the status of [#7716]? Exania: He’s dead. That’s it. AQNA: Can you speak to [#7717]’s competence as potential squadron leader? Exania: #7717? I can't.  AQNA: Can you elaborate? Exania: I can't. AQNA: Can't? Or won't? Exania: Does it matter? [No AQNA Text Question Generated] AQNA: Please elaborate on your specific involvement with the events of [stardate 2104.119]. Exania: I successfully extracted information from the facility on [REDACTED]. I successfully extracted my drop member #7717, Hels. We were unsuccessful at a full extraction of the entire crew. Look, did I not just say all of this? What's not clicking for you? I know you're just recording this answer looking for keywords. I'm not daft. I think we’re done. AQNA: You're excused. Exania: Thank you.

SESSION END

Interview for: IIC Employee #7716

Given Name: Wels

SESSION BEGIN

AQNA [Generated Text Question]: Please explain the events of [stardate 2104.119]. [No verbal recorded response available] [No AQNA Text Question Generated]

END SESSION

[s-ccaam-era-crepe]

im so in love like. woah have you guys done this whole being in love thing before because its Crazy

[grailknightmonty]

it starts and ends in a garden.

i keep coming back to the good omens mianite AU so have a funky little illustration :] I just. I just love them a lot

Ref + what story I've thought about below the cut!

(Spoilers for Good Omens S1 and S2 ahead, be wary if you haven't watched and wanna get into it without prior knowledge)

At its core, this AU is basically good omens but with the cast of Mianite, with a few revisions to tie it a little into the mcytverse (while also not like compromising the integrity of the show version of the story) I got inspired by AdamMonter's AU and decided I wanted to give it a go myself after i watched S2 and reawakened my fixation :D

Jordan is this universes Aziraphale- the angel stationed to guard Eden and look out for humans (intended to instill in them the ways of goodness through righteous balance and justice in the name of the High Goddess) - and Tom is Crowley, or the snake in within the Garden, sent up to cause chaos and tempt humans towards evil shenanigans in the name of Dianite, or the devil in this case. They stand on two opposing sides of whats meant to be an all out war between Heaven (under Ianite) and Hell (by Dianite) on whether Ianites form of order (borrowing this from Aitheaca) or chaos will reign supreme- or basically the big ol apocalypse. I made Mianite the Metatron because idk what else to do with him mianite im sorry i didnt wanna make ianite the metatron if i swapped it even though it would make more sense for mia and dia to be fighting SOBS

Tom n Jordan grow close over their centuries on Earth together that when everythings meant to go down and destroy the world they've made their own, they fight to stop the apocalypse from happening, and by the end of it, are subsequently punished by their respective sides- only to not be affected and left alone when they seem to have absorbed the powers of the other (no one seems to realize they can swap bodies). Series 2 follows what they uncover by the end of it a plot to restart armageddon, in which they want Jordan to take over as the head of it after the former champion/supreme archangel is ousted for disagreeing- and had shown up with a non-existent memory nonexistent at Jordan's.

(im switching to list im done with prose xD)

Jordan runs an antique shop instead of a bookshop, he seems like he'd be more into little trinkets and old school machines, stuff he could tinker with. its still got that certain charm to it though

Capsize is Nina from the coffee shop (give me coffee or give me death seems like a thing Capsize would name something) and Sonja is Maggie who runs a record shop. aka the lesbians from across the street you know what I am

For something hilarious Tubbo is the Antichrist, aka the child meant to start and lead the War (leaving it as is bc its funny but not the literal antichrist) He's meant to join a government family to put him in a place of power, but due to a mix up ends up with an In the meantime, Tom and Jordan act as godfathers to the other child (who they assume is the antichrist, it would be funny to make this Crumb or something) in hopes that influencing them to good/evil respectively would neutralize them out- only to eventually realize its the wrong kid

Wag is Anathema, the descendent of a prophetic wizard who was scrutinized for their foresight and becomes the carrier of those prophecies (for my sanity ive chosen to get rid of the Newt-Anathema romance thing idk it. it just aaaa and turn into wag and his bros aka FyreUK tryin to use what they know to stop the apocalypse from their end)

Angels are Ianitees (save for Capsize), and Demons are Dianitees. Ive gone back n forth with who would be who and I still have no answer so. all I'll say is that Andor is Muriel thats all thats important /j C:

The other option was to make Satan the Darkness/World Historian and Dianite is the Lord of Hell (Beelzebub) with Mot as Gabriel but do i look like I know? idk do we need ineffable bureaucracy i could always alter that a little too... idk

tubbo as the child of the world historian who wouldve thought… edit what if like carrier of the darkness

anyway thats all enjoy this nonsense ;)

and screenshot I referenced for the drawing! I know its low qual dont worry about it i just needed to see where the trees were so i knew how many to paint LMAO

[thedreamerstoryteller]

SO HE LEARN TO KNOCK NEXT TIME

FROM THE STORY:

<<LI LIANHUA!>> Fang Duobing's clear voice echoed from outside the room.

Li Lianhua would have wanted to reply to him, telling him to wait but he couldn't. The door opened and Xiaobao stormed into the room without hesitation.

Li Lianhua saw him looked around, Fang Duobing's smile widened when their eyes met and faltered when he moved them beside him. The Sigu Sect Leader could see the exact moment his disciple realized his mistake. His eyes widened in shock and his cheeks reddened.

Li Lianhua stepped immediately in front of Di Feisheng while Fang Duobing covered his eyes with an hand and moved them away.

<<Ayo Xiaobao, how many times I told you...>> started Li Lianhua using his outer robe to cover his partner now behind him.

<<I'M SORRY!>> cut him off Xiaobao gesturing frenetically with his free hand. <<I didn't know he was here>> he added, his face was as red as a tomato.

IN OTHER WORDS:

Li Xiangyi has deal with his partner who does not care about anyone and anything but him and his impulsive young disciple who sometimes forgets to think before acting.

LINK:

[nerdish-nostalgia-revived]

"We are dealing with a maniac that is very dangerous."

"Oh, my Lord! What about Egg? Is she going to be alright?"

Hercule Poirot and Sir Charles having a brainstorming on the train.

[nervocat]

（• ˕ •マ.ᐟ — “valentines day special.” !! · ft. elliott ♡

“Elliott!” He laughed, holding the rose his husband just handed him. He smiles, holding the rose to his lips as his smile reaches his eyes, his nose scrunched. “I know you've got more than just a rose.”

“You know me too well then, my dear,” he says, taking his husband's free hand and leading him to the fireplace, assisting him in sitting even if he didn't need to. “Stay here for a moment.”

Elliott walks off, his footsteps growing quieter. He looked at the rose Elliott gave him — it was beautiful. The thorns had already been rid of, and its petals were a deep, vibrant red, illuminated by the fire.

He cupped the petals in his hand. He vowed to keep it alive for as long as he could just before Elliott walked back in, holding something.

“Close your eyes, dear,” he says. He sets the rose down, smiling still as he laughed a little, but closing his eyes. He felt Elliott cup his hands, slipping a few things into them and closing them with his hands. “Now.. open.”

Eyes fluttering open, he looks down to see just a few chocolate hearts and a ring; a ring that seemed to be a matching one. His eyes widened a little, looking up at Elliott.

“Is this..?”

“Yes.”

Elliott showed him the other half of the ring on his finger. “I put it on just now so you wouldn't know beforehand. The chocolates were just for the occasion it is today,” he smiled, finally sitting down and joined his husband on the couch, the fire crackling and filling the comfortable silence.

Slipping the ring on with his many others that he's yet to take off, he offers Elliott one of the chocolates he gave him. “Here, we'll share them,” Elliott smiled as he took it from his hand.

“Alright then, we will. Happy valentine's day, my beloved husband.”

rbs ok!! . ⊹ don't repost, feed into ai or translate this post

[mo-nmage]

“See? The inn looks cozy and warm!” Callum pointed to the inn near them, Rayla glared at him and groaned in annoyance as she kept moving towards the small building. “Callum, I still believe this is a distraction-”

“You keep insisting that it's a distraction yet you continue to move towards the inn… you're giving me mixed signals here, Rayla” he teased as he continued moving forward. Callum being a few feet ahead of Rayla made him miss the small smile that formed on her lips as he teased her.

“sparks fly” on ao3 <3

[shorlinesorrows]

just got the time to start the sunshine court and I'm Vibrating out of my skin

[borealopelta]

like i'm not even trying to be mean about strollonso it's just not there. in the way that i do not think alonso is capable of caring about another driver if he isn't good teammate or boss' son or otherwise be damned because he's just too fucking obsessed with racing. which is good it's insane that he's 43 in this very physically demanding sport because he's incapable of stopping i like that in a man but he just. i've not once seen him give a shit about lance stroll

[noes-pillow]

woke up to a notif that someone wrote a fic inspired by my A Memory is Not Enough...

MIND THE TAGS but go show it some love! 💜💙

[thiscatiscreepy]

So I'm rewriting The Smell and I thiiink I just finished the first (and shortest) chapter. I might post the next chapters of the fic here as I progress (the red fanfic website is blocked over here and i don't care enough about it to use a vpn)

I would really appreciate feedback on pacing and word choice and stuff like that, but if you just want to read about Marius having a weird one, you're more than welcome.

Anyway, Chapter one, A Dream.

Sirens wailed and gunshots sounded as Marius approached an immense concrete building. In that moment, he wasn't driven by murderous glee, morbid curiosity or even basic boredom, but pure, unfiltered hatred. There wasn't a single thing or person that made his jaw clench or his hands curl into fists like that crumbling edifice. And for the life of himself, he couldn't explain why.

Inside, the air was hot and thick and made his head swim. The lobby was empty, its occupants either cowering, dead outside or retreated downstairs. That's where he was heading as well.

Someone was beside him. He glanced at Raphaella with a rifle in her hands. Strange, he thought, she didn't favour firearms, the recoil didn't mix well with her habit of flying everywhere.

They found a door that led to the staircase. Looking over the railing, the descent seemed endless. Marius proceeded regardless, with Raphaella closely behind. The ground above them rumbled from an explosion, dislodging dust in a grey snow. They passed dark labs and empty offices until they reached a library-like server room with its tall stacks of powerful processors.

Cautiously, they entered, and were shot at. Raphaella took off while Marius ducked behind an overturned table. He fired at the assailant and it fell to the floor. Hearing shots from above, he looked up to see Raphaella press against a wall as she fired at more armed things. Worry rose in him, she was too exposed. As he opened his mouth to shout for her to fly lower, a shot sounded from below, and the scientist gasped and fell, her metal wings making a horrible clutter. Marius jumped from behind the table and ran to her, shooting the gunners in his way.

Raphaella lay face-down in a pool of her own blood, limbs splayed, a wound through her chest. As he reached for her, a bullet hit his shoulder. He swore and shot back, then dragged her behind a cover and continued shooting the creatures. His shoulder stang. Warm blood spread on the floor.

After some time, the armed beings stopped coming. Marius sighed and turned to Raphaella. She was still lying face down, still motionless, still bleeding. He touched his own shoulder, the gunshot wound had already stitched itself up.

How much blood did she have?

He shook her by the shoulder. She was cold and rigid.

How could she still bleed when she was already so stiff?

He whispered her name, then repeated it louder, and louder again. She lay bleeding. He withdrew his hand, it dripped with blood.

How was she still bleeding?

His heart beat wildly in his chest. He reached to turn her over, to look at her face, but stopped his hand short.

How was she still bleeding?

Fear seized him. He felt - knew - that whatever had happened to her face would be too awful to witness. Still, curiosity and urgency pushed him to see her monstrous image.

How was she still bleeding?

As if possessed, his shaky hands moved to the woman's unmoving body on their own. One took her shoulder, turned Raphaella of her side, and held her so. Blood gushed freely from beside her breast.

How was she still breathing?

Blood-soaked hair clang to her face. The other hand reached to move it away and see the horrible face at last. Marius was powerless to stop it.

How was she still bleeding?

He couldn't breathe as his fingers touched the dark red strands of hair and- "Attention crew."

The doctor jumped out of sleep at the booming voice of the ship.

"Attention crew," she repeated, as Marius rubbed his eyes, "inhabited planet located in the nearest system, landing in approximately four months. Take stock of supplies. I repeat-"

Marius tried to recall what his strange dream had been about, and why it made his stomach turn. But as the Aurora recited her message, the dream slipped from his mind until all that was left of it was an uneasy tightness in his throat.

The ship concluded her announcement, and Marius' quarters fell into the comfortable ambience of machinery whirring quietly behind the walls. Soon, he drifted back to sleep, and dreamed of birds.

[nixie-deangel]

@artemisiasolzhenitsyn who asked for 🍷🍷✍️:

🍷 Jake's family causes the hangster break up

directly following this!

Jake isn’t sure how long they sit there on her kitchen floor, but he knows they only finally get up because Brownie lets out a sharp, high pitched whine and Tally laughs a little wetly at his antics. “I know baby, momma is late on your afternoon walk,” she murmurs, moving only one hand from around Jake to scratch at him behind his ears. “Go get your leash and I’ll get uncle Jakey up and we’ll take you on your walk, okay buddy?” Letting out a sharp rumble, Jake laughs hoarsely as he watches the big Great Dane trot off to fetch his leash. “He got big.” “Yeah, his breed does that, Jake,” Tally snorts. ‘Plus you haven’t seen him in a few months, so it’s no wonder he seems big to you.”

✍🏻 insecure bradley - hangster

“Be good for me, princess,” Bradley pants into Jake’s ear, grip on his hips tightening in a vain attempt to stop Jake from shoving back onto his cock.  “Come on,” Jake whines as he tries to move his arms up to get better leverage to roll his hips back into Bradley’s own. “Bradley.” Growling low, Bradley tightens his hands, shoving Jake up against the wall and following with his body to keep him pinned.

Make Nixie Write!

[longagoitwastuesday]

While I loved that interaction, that is all we got about something that could be taken as two of the most important (alive) people in Gojo's life mentioning him, thinking of him with fondness, or coming anywhere close to mourning him.

Then we got two pages of resolution of whatever emotional turmoil these two have going on