#imagine the shit her brother's repressing

[zaczenemiji]

Hi! Just saw your request are open. I thought it would be a great to request a OS of Kenji Sato x Fem! Reader.

I got inspired by that song of "Too Sweet" from Hozier and I got the idea of how good is Reader with Emi, (since she knows he's Ultraman and also raises a baby Kaiju alone) such a Sunshine, even Emi sees her as a new maternal figure, he thinks she's too sweet, getting the idea of having kids with her but having the thought she deserves better.

But she thinks on the contrary, he's such a bad boy with a good heart. If you wanna add more things, it's up to you. I'll leave it to your imagination. Take your time and no need to rush. Take care.

Too Good, Too True

Kenji Sato x Reader

Word Count: 1,456

Genre/Warnings: Established Relationship, Found Family

Author’s Note: Particularly in love with this one, and Too Sweet plays rent-free in my head.

MASTERLIST

You know everything about Kenji: his past—the reason he’s distant from his dad, his secret—that he’s Ultraman, and his love child the 20-foot-tall kaiju baby in his basement.

You guys have been together for a long while now, even before everyone knew him as Ken Sato, the baseball star—the one whose name dominates the headlines.

With millions of adoring fans, you’re grateful you still have a place in his life. At first, there was a looming thought at the back of your head that tells you how easily replaceable you are.

No matter how you repress the thought, the fact remains that it is true. Who are you when compared to Kenji? You weren’t a model, an icon, a singer, or the daughter of a CEO—like all the other women waiting in line for him.

You were just… you. Simply (y/n) in her soft pastel and floral dresses. You don’t own a lot either, just a flower shop in LA. Your favorite hobby is tending to your garden where you grew the flowers that you sold.

All of your issues regarding this have long been resolved since Kenji has always been quick to reassure you of his love. That to him, everything and anyone else pails in comparison to you. He wishes you knew your impact on his life.

You have always been his breath of fresh air. It started at college during his baseball trainings, he’d wait for a certain girl to pass by. His eyes were always quick to find you among your group of friends.

On his games, you were his number one cheerleader. Your friends and his teammates were always so surprised to see the quiet dainty girl that you were yelling and cheering for his name.

Back when his mom was around, you got along with her so well. Kenji would find you and his mom in their kitchen baking cakes and making cute little pastries.

His mom loved having you around. You were always welcome at his house. When she found out that you were an international student who flew to LA alone and lived in a dorm, she almost wanted to adopt you.

But ain’t no way Kenji wanted to be just a brother in your life.

Many things have changed since then. In becoming a baseball star, half of his life was no longer private. In becoming Ultraman, his responsibilities were no longer limited to that of his career and personal life. And in becoming a daddy to a kaiju baby, he realized you deserve better.

You came over to his house every day to visit Emi. He admired your patience with her and how you were always a ray of sunshine to everyone, including a kaiju. And you’re not afraid of playing with her even if she could literally crush you out of nowhere.

You’d come over with fresh flowers picked from your parents’ garden. You’d make big flower crowns just for Emi and smaller ones for yourself and Mina.

Today was a particularly rough day as Kenji got home from a game. You wanted to accompany him today but he insisted for you to watch over Emi. He has been feeling like shit lately, not knowing what to do with Emi and his declining performance in his games.

Upon passing by the kitchen table, he sees a can of his favorite fizzy drink. Under it, a note. He lifted the can and read, “left this up here so mina won’t see (｡- .•)”

For the first time that day, he smiled. You’ve always told him how lucky you thought you were for being with someone as great as him. But the truth is, it’s the other way around.

In one go, he finished his drink so he could immediately head down to see you. You and Mina were too busy playing with Emi to notice him. He stayed at the lounge where he could see you from the other side of the glass.

There you were, beautiful, with flowers adorning your hair. You looked so pure and innocent. Your gentle demeanor had always put him at ease.

Your expressive eyes looked up at Emi in an attempt to communicate beyond words. Kenji loved your eyes. They were always filled with warmth and kindness but when you look at him, all he sees is love.

On the contrary, there’s him. He and his troubled past.

He is distant from his dad, wanting little to no connection with him. If it wasn’t for his mom, he wouldn’t have returned to Japan.

You weren’t like that. You had a good relationship with your parents. You deserve someone who could give you and your future children the same kind of environment you grew up in—peaceful and without the fear of the possibility that one day, your husband might not come home.

He worries he’d be like his dad, absent. He is Ultraman now. His duties would one day require him to be away, sometimes without notice and for extended periods. You deserve someone who can be there for you consistently.

He is constantly under the scrutiny of the public eye, both as Ultraman and the baseball star that he is. And the public is not often gentle. You deserve a private and peaceful life, away from the criticisms of society.

Kenji loves you dearly, he really does. But oftentimes, he thinks he’s not the best person for you. He thinks you deserve someone who can offer you a simpler and safer life.

Too deep in his thoughts, he failed to notice you enter the room. The kiss you gave on his cheek pulled him back to reality.

“Tough day?” You asked, sitting beside him on the couch.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I’m okay now. You’re here now.” He turned to look at you, his rest.

“Would you like to talk about your day?” You asked, reaching out to brush strands of his hair away from his face.

He shook his head. “I’d like to hear about yours first.”

You smiled, excited to tell him what you planned on doing. Since he’s staying here in Japan for good, you thought you would too. The flower shop in LA would be left in a good friend’s care. And here, you thought of working as a kindergarten teacher. You had doubts before but after being able to take care of Emi and enjoying it, you were now sure that this is the kind of job for you.

Kenji’s expression shifted upon knowing this. A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “What’s wrong?” you asked. “Do you not approve?”

“You deserve better,” he said, eyes falling downward before turning away to lean properly on the couch.

Confused, you leaned back as well. “Better job?” You asked. “Kenji, I think this is the bes—“

“Better than a guy who’s got a kaiju baby to take care of and a past, present, and future that’s complicated,” he continued his earlier statement, cutting you mid-sentence.

You were shocked. You never expected him to feel this way. You felt bad because for every time he assured you of his love, you failed to realize that he needed reassurance too.

“Oh no, Kenji,” you said. You turned his face to look at you, cupping it with both of your hands. “You’re a good man.”

“I’m worried, (y/n),” he said softly. “I worry that I can’t give you the life you deserve.“

He wants to marry you, he truly does. He dreamed of having children with you, teaching them, watching them grow. And when all is done, living the rest of his life with you.

When he passes by jewelry stores, he always thinks of you. He’d get in, and browse their selection of rings, but thinking of how you’re too sweet for him holds him back from buying.

"You're the best man for me, Kenji. Not despite your past and your duties, but because of them. They've shaped you into the person I love,” you told him.

“You're a wonderful father to Emi. And if you ever wanted more—if you ever wanted us to be more,” you leaned in to press your forehead on his. “I know you'll be an amazing father because of how you love me every day.”

Kenji closed his eyes, leaning into your touch, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You really believe that?"

"Every word," you said softly. "You are my home, Kenji. As long as we're together, I'm not afraid of anything."

He opened his eyes, looking at you with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you, (y/n),” he said. “I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You'll never have to find out," you replied, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@flowerloves

[secondsistershelby3]

A MONSTER BUT NOT FOR YOU [2]

Pairings: Joel Miller x immune!Reader

Summary: you were born and raised in shit, like so many other people born during the apocalypse, you knew that things would be even more difficult since that fateful day in 2015, but did you ever imagine that people would no longer see you as a human being, or maybe someone would?

Warnings: !SPOILER TLOU!, typical violence of the last of us, angst, blood, quite specific descriptions gore, age gap, SMUT, 18+, obscenity, !Legal!, flashbacks, I will try to make Joel behave in a fairly canonical way

Note: I'm glad people enjoyed the first chapter, I had this idea in mind for a while but I never had the courage to write it because I thought it was a bad idea

MASTERLIST

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Boston, 2023

Your skin was cold as ice, almost as if you were dead, even though it was hot in Boston. You felt almost helpless, as if you hadn't moved in a week. At the slightest noise you jumped up in the air thinking that whatever made the noise was coming into the room with you. The room was dark, except for a few slivers of light that came in from the window during the day, the chains had left a mark on your wrists from how many times you had tried to free yourself. There was only silence

"uuuggh WHAT THE FUCK!"

well not completely silent, since every day you heard a voice complaining and pulling on the chains in the room next to yours. You could hear them always asking her the same thing: "count slowly and clearly from 1 to 10", "now hold out your hand" "say your name slowly", you always heard her answer.

Count, Veronica, count Veronica, count Veronica, always the same answers

For you, they only came in to feed you, they looked you up and down and then they left. No tests, no questions, no 'courtesy'

You didn't speak, you only used gestures: you kicked, you gave the middle finger, you spat, you pulled but not a single word. You had been in that shitty room for a little over a week.

No torture, nothing like that, it wasn't because you were weak.

It was because they hadn't fed you since they put you in this room. Not the food that is usually meant, something else that you wanted to repress for days but that in the end you had to give in, a souvenir of that night, along with others.

You had your knees pulled up and your arms around them, trying to stay "conscious", in case someone came in.

The door in front of you opened and you threw yourself back against the wall, panting and feeling your face throbbing, as well as your arms and legs.

"you're still… well you" Marlene approached slowly, still remaining at a certain distance.

"you're not going to say anything today either?" nothing. That bitch didn't deserve a word from you, she just had to give you some fucking blood tests and blood samples, instead here you are.

"I know you don't like this, but if I had told your sister and brother they wouldn't have let me do it, and this operation is important and we're sure we can do it with you" you were sweaty, out of breath but you still managed to give her a threatening look and suddenly you tried to sprint with your little strength but the chains were too short and they pulled your wrists for the umpteenth time. Marlene remained still where she was.

"you'll understand that all of this is for the greater good" you remained on your knees staring at a fixed point while you heard the door close and you returned to the dead silence, you don't know how much you would have resisted your impulses and you didn't want to find out.

—

"I told you that you couldn't trust Marlene, damn it!" Thomas whispered to Denise as they walked quickly to the building where they had left you because Marlene wanted to do some "tests"

"She seemed trustworthy, I.. I thought I could trust her…" Thomas turned quickly towards his sister, making her stop suddenly "that's why we shouldn't trust the fucking Fireflies" Thomas looked her straight in the eyes and sighed before starting to walk again.

Denise loved you and only wanted the best for you but she thought she could trust her, they both trusted the Fireflies, but for a while you had your doubts about that group, but they gave you extra rations, a comfortable place to sleep and in exchange they wanted you for a blood sample or test, but never for that long. They had to understand that Marlene wanted to screw them

While walking through the streets of Boston the two ran into some F.E.D.R.A. soldiers that surrounded where it looked like there had just been an explosion.

"it must have been those fireflies again" Thomas sighed - "yes.."

they only had one thing in mind, to have a talk with the boss of the fireflies

—

You hadn't counted how much time had passed since Marlene had spoken to you. But you knew that you were getting worse by the minute, your veins were pulsing all over your body and your almost primal instincts were struggling to get out and you were about to let go of everything, close your eyes and abandon yourself to the darkness.

But gunshots prevented you, you raised your head suddenly and opened your eyes wide, the gunshots continued and were reciprocated, you also heard people shouting commands from one side to the other, people running on the stairs, going up and down.

And then the door opened

"sir there's a little girl here"

it was your chance to recover and escape, but it wouldn't have been nice, not for you, nor for this F.E.D.R.A. soldier.

The darkness obscured most of your body.

"are you infected?" the soldier continued to slowly approach

"I'm sorry…" you whispered

"what-"

screams

gunshots

grunts

blood…

so much blood

the soldier was dead.

—

Tommy moved carefully as he entered the building with Denise and as he closed the door trying not to make any noise he felt a tap on his shoulder "Tommy…" his sister Denise's whisper scared reached his ear

"What-" as soon as Thomas turned he saw two dead bodies in front of the stairs. One was a firefly, the other was a soldier of the F.E.D.R.A.

"fuck…they got in" - "and if they got in it means they'll find her" they looked at each other at the same time and hurried up the stairs, fuck being silent, the F.E.D.R.A. had found the fireflies and that meant they would find you too.

Thomas went with the gun pointed in front of him as he checked every corner before moving forward, Denise looked at his balls with her revolver.

As they climbed another flight of stairs they heard the first voice

"Joel!"

fucking Marlene.

Thomas turned to Denise and put his index finger in front of his mouth to signal for silence. They stood against the wall as they walked forward, the voices getting closer and closer

"Ellie" was still Marlene's voice, it sounded authoritative as if she was scolding someone.

Thomas leaned forward slightly and saw 5 people, Marlene, next to her presumably a firefly, a girl who couldn't have been more than 15 years old on the ground, a man and a woman next to her. He could shoot one of the two unknown adults and they might have had a chance. Thomas took a breath and aimed the gun at the adult man, he put his finger on the trigger.

"Thomas, wait!"

Everyone turned around and the two smugglers immediately pointed their guns behind them.

"Don't shoot Joel!" Marlene stopped them immediately.

"Where the fuck is our sister Marlene?!" Thomas continued to keep his gun pointed, Denise did the same standing next to him.

"everyone put your guns down first, we're not enemies" Thomas raised his eyebrow

"oh no? so taking my sister as a guinea pig by surprise isn't being enemies?! - "now calm down and put your gun down Thomas and I'll give you your sister back" Marlene held one hand in front of her for safety while the other rested on the wound

Thomas looked from Marlene to the two strangers. "they have to put them down first"

silence fell in the hallway. "Joel does as he says" Joel glared at the head of the lights "Do it!….please"

Joel looked at Marlene and then Thomas and motioned for Tess to put her gun down, Thomas and Denise put theirs down in return.

"where is she?" asked Thomas as he slowly approached the group, continuing to check the two in front for safety. Marlene nodded towards the door next to the girl on the floor.

Denise looked at her brother and rushed to the door, took a deep breath and turned the doorknob and pushed it, letting light into the room.

Denise opened her mouth wide and gagged when she saw the scene in front of her, she put her hand in front of her mouth to keep from vomiting and turned her head to the side. Thomas put a hand on his sister's shoulder and tried to get his courage up to go in.

A F.E.D.R.A. soldier was lying on the ground with part of his guts hanging out, he had bite marks on his neck, his intestines were hanging out of his body. There were bullet holes on the walls, there were several.

Thomas turned his head to look for you but he didn't see you "fuck..fuck, fuck"

He immediately turned to Marlene and went angrily towards her, but the woman next to her raised her gun towards him "what have you done?!" Thomas had a look more than furious

"Thomas" Denise looked behind Marlene

"no christ now she have to listen to me, she have no idea of ​​the seriousness of the actions she have done!-"

"Thomas!" - "WHAT?!" he turned her head towards her sister angrily. Her sister had a worried look as she pointed her head towards the stairs, behind Marlene.

When your brother turned his head in that direction, he finally saw you, you had blood on your clothes and a little on your face, you were breathing fast, your face almost tired "holy christ.." he whispered before rushing towards you, your sister did the same, Thomas put his jacket on you. They just hoped that the two of them hadn't seen the body in the room.

"we had a deal Marlene, a fucking deal!" - "I had to do it, I needed you to help me carry the girl" Marlene sighed in pain with her hand on her hip as she looked at Thomas

"and I still need her" Thomas' eyes widened with an almost amused expression

"are you kidding us!?" your sister spoke to that statement

"my soldiers are dead and having your sister is more than indispensable, and I need you too" Marlene turned her head towards the smugglers

"Who is she?" asked the woman

"to you? She's a cargo"

"we don't smuggle humans and not with other kids" - "but how old do you think we are excuse me?" your brother looked at the stranger with anger

"he had to escort her to the government building, I had squadrons and armored vehicles but not anymore and you are the only ones who can do it"

"you are fucking crazy" your brother laughed

"there will be some fireflies there and they can escort you to Wyoming, that's where you want to go, right?" Your brother had an arm around you as he looked at you. Yes, they had wanted to go there for a while, they had heard that there was a community of survivors and they could finally be safe but they didn't know how to get there, but they didn't know if they could trust Marlene as much as they do now.

"and for you there will be more than a battery, I can give you also an armored vehicle with a full tank, weapons, supplies, I swear" Marlene turned her head towards the two smugglers then pointed her finger at you

"she may seem like a little girl, but you don't know what she is capable of, she is as much as you if not more, it will be more than essential" you looked with a cold gaze at the two strangers in front of you

"who said we accepted?" - "I swear I'm telling you the truth Thomas, I know what I'm getting into if I don't tell you the truth this time"

Thomas looked at Denise as the smugglers walked away to talk "I don't want to put her in danger" your sister spoke

"I can do it" for the first time in a week you had uttered a word "if this takes us to Wyoming…I can do it" you turned your head towards your brother more than determined

You walked down the stairs with your brothers behind you while you looked at Marlene without saying anything.

You had been locked up for almost 14 days but you finally got out but how long would it take you to get into trouble with these new "companions"

—

I swear the interactions with Joel will come, but first I wanted to introduce everything a bit

[coffeepaintwater]

old mdzs designs because they've been haunting me

notesss:

okay so character by character, starting right; nie huaisang is someone i've always imagined in contrast to his brother, so a small/frailer person compared to that hunk. so i'm always forgetting that hey, they actually ARE half-brothers!! there should be at least a tiny bit of resemblence!!! i'm not super happy with how much detail i've incomporated into his outfit because he's, at his soul, a young master with a penchant for the five arts, of course he's stylish!!! but also, i wanted to stay within bounds for my usual designs, where i aim to have a basic silhuette of a character down, like for animation. also, he is said to have an elegant face in the novel and i guess i just associate that with a heart shaped face and big eyes, but with added spice bcs i like for him to have that bit of slyness in his gaze.

jiang yanli, light of my life. i wasn't sure what i was aiming for with her because to be honest, besides jiang fengmian, she may be one of the character i understand the least. and not in the sense that she doesn't make sense to me, just that while reading i feel like i've gotten only a brief look at her goals and personality. so her character design reflects that i fear. i wanted to give her that cute, but plain face that yu ziyuan complained about (she describes her to be average/plain but it's also yu ziyuan soo...). and, going by novel canon, she also doesn't seem to have a sword or any weapon, so i've forgone any kind of disciple robes in favor of something a first daughter of a clan would wear. her hair was super fun to draw and a while ago someone advised me about adding golden beads/pearls as a hair ornament and yeah!!! the pattern on the lower part of her robes are also purple peonies :)

lan wangji the repressed fucker got such a basic design at first i had to tweak it by addign patterns to his robes. i love the idea of the lan robes looking like mourning clothes (as described by wei wuxian) bcs it's a) funny, b) devastating in the light of how much mourning lan wangji does in his life. his eyes actually make me wonder how much does cultivation change the features we normally associate with chinese/central asian regions? i caved and gave him golden eyes (described as "light") and then realized that wei wuxian also has grey/light eyes. it's fun to speculate whether it's cultivation shit or just a rogue ancestral gene that got passed down (maybe from his mother on lan wangji's side?? since the gusu lan is a clan settled in one place and one that generally doesn't venture far and then brings back people lol). his expression came out a lot sadder than bitter but oh well. and of course, the jade pendant and a jade crown to match, as a nod to The Untamed. in general, lan wangji was meant to be a mellow, delicate face with a body that, while well-built, gave the illusion of gentleness as well.

jiang cheng was the one i hesitated a bit on. but ultimately, he's got disciple robes and a nice crown since the time line on those designs is around "when no shit was going down". the rigid lines and shapes of his face was smth i can't let go of when is comes to him; it's just such a good fit for his personality. also, wanted him to contrast wei wuxian in his stature; he is centered and sturdy. the most subtle thing ever but the fabric for his pants in also more vibrantly dyed.

wei wuxian, cancelled king, was meant to be long, jagged lines contrasted by the playfulness of his wavy hair. like jiang cheng and jiang yanli i gave him more of a tan, not only for a vague resemblence, but also because yunmeng's climate from my understanding is that it's a subtropical monsoon (as is yunmeng, hubei in china irl) so hot summers with lots of sun to tan from are a thing. also, i just think it looks neat. suibian and his clarity bell are well secured and i still can't comprehend how does hair work in xianxia BC MY HAIR CAN'T DO THAT LONG ASS PONYTAIL WITH JUST A RIBBON. sadly, wwx gets no crown lol

also, someone please introduce the concept of a braid to all those bitches letting their long ass hair hang loose where anyone can grab it

[cardsweetheart]

Some Yumi/Idia Thoughts

Only like 2 people care about it but YumIdia is infecting my brain. She wanted so badly to go for someone who knows what the sun looks like, but he let her do some of his game pulls and she was sucked in.

-He edits all the selfies she sends him into SR and SSR card motifs. Like she is the MC of her own game and only he gets to pull for her. He puts little stats in the corners and everything. He makes them into little photocards too. Puts them in a binder that no one is ever allowed to know about.

-She loves cosplaying as his faves to rile him up. The lewder the better for her. She's never jealous, she just sees opportunities to fuck with him.

-One day she chaos dyes her hair bright blue and Vil is FURIOUS. Her style also starts to slightly shift to what she think will get his attention. On the same note, when Idia's first realizing he likes her, he tries too hard to act like Trappola bc that's who he knows she's likes before. It leads to her telling him "I picked your route before the mods. Uninstall please?" and he is just smitten like its the most romantic shit he's ever heard in his life.

-Ignihyde is the first place she goes after Ace rips into her for daring to put her attention somewhere other than him and now he realizes that maybe he was an idiot for breaking up with her.

-Cater obviously catches on to what's happening immediately and calls Idia out as quickly as possible. Then proceeds to be the best and worst guidebook/wingman Idia could've hoped for.

-She is obsessed with holidays and milestones and for the first year he forgets each and every one of them. Not being used to having to pay attention outside of his games' events. He always makes it up to her the next day with new co-op games, digital cards, gift, and affection.

-Before they're together he is relatively in control of his emotions around her. Able to breath and repress his way through their interactions. Until she learns he walks around with a built in fluster health bar in his hair and she makes it her new mission to make him bright pink to match her outfit every chance she gets. Once the dam is broken, he is the easiest target. The smallest hint, look, or tease sets him off. He is just so thrown off that the pretty girl on campus chose HIM?

-Everyone telling her she needs to go through Ortho first. Who of course adores her with no question. He's extremely happy that his brother has finally found someone he's willing to spend so much time with.

-For all her frilly and lacy clothes, her new favourite thing to wear is his hoodies. She knows it's cliché but she doesn't care. It makes her feel small and warm and like she doesn't need to perform because she's already got what she wanted.

-She could easily flirt her way into winning games with him but it's too easy for her. Unless it's board games. She's not above tampering twst monopoly negotiations.

-They match each others freak so intensely. This is two nerds who grew up gaining all their social awareness from otome games and dating sims. Their sex ed came from obscure hentai games they had no right to be touching at the ages they did. I repeat, they match each other's freak perfectly and yet they are still so awkward when it comes to even holding hands at the beginning. (This is the same girl who flashed Deuce like, the 3rd time she saw him)

-She is the queen of sending nudes or spicy texts while she knows he's in the middle of things.

-He knows she's Pomfiore's but he thinks about her transferring on the daily. Imagines her in the uniform. Well, a more feminine version of the uniform, you know to be more her style. No other reason.

[unkillable-gays]

9-1-1 8.16 "the Last Alarm" liveblog

Oh they are NOT starting this episode off with a dead baby. What the FUCK.

(Also idk much about house fires, but that one looks CRAZY!! what happened there????)

Buck sounds so awkward entering the Han house 🥺🥺🥺

(kind feel like Oliver's American accent might've been fighting for its life in that first scene. Like he didn't sound British, but he did sound...off? I imagine it's pretty hard to do a foreign accent WHILE trying to express a lot of emotion and also stay in character.)

Buck don't think i didn't notice you absolutely refusing to talk about your feelings!!!!

hshdjdj LOVE that Athena's like, "ohhh, OTHER people's problems? Instead of my own? Don't mind if I do!"

Oh, these guys should NOT be back at work 😬 send Chimney home!! Him lowkey threatening to kill Gerrard was kind of funny, though.

I'm kind of enjoying the Micah storyline tbh. I mean Athena is fully spiraling, but, like, I get it! I also don't want the baby to be dead!!

CHIMNEY you gotta be there for your daughter and your pregnant wife!!!! Take a page out of Buck's book and repress that shit!!

I feel like the fact that there wasn't a body would've been in the police report, or whatever documentation they have for incidents like these? I mean, I get that there wasn't foul play suspected, but if someone dies, I'd think you'd want to record the details.

(It does seem strange, though, that Gary's like, "I thought she might listen to someone who was there," and literally Tommy, Hen, and Chim were all there, too?? And no one mentions it? Like I understand Gary not knowing who was there, but Athena literally talks to Hen about it, and they don't address that Hen watched this happen?)

The Athena and Leah scene 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Awww, May and Harry, best children ever 💕💕💕

Ohhh, the boys getting ready together 🥺

bdnsjksks is it normal for churches in LA to have suits of armor as decor? And 100-foot paintings??? (I mean I'm assuming this is a real place, so, i guess so, but)

Okay, help me out, I haven't watched most of this show, who's the guy next to Athena?

Also why did she say, "today of all days??"

Did they not bring back Bobby's mom and brother for his funeral?? That wouldn't be so weird if we hadn't seen them so recently! (Okay wait I think there might've been a quick shot of the mom? idk I'm not good w faces 😅)

The folksy soundtrack is an interesting choice, but i don't hate it!

Okay wait kind of crazy that they were considering other burial location options when his family already has a plot??? Like I get that it's not conveniently located, but c'mon. Also tbh I feel like Bobby's the kind of person who would've had those arrangements made in advance. He's certainly spent enough time thinking about his own death. (Also Catholics LOVE to plan their own funerals.)

Honestly? Everyone did a really good job crying this episode.

Not a very fun one, though :/ and also not a lot happening! Kind of like a "buffer" episode? Like, not "filler", (I don't really believe in that) but kind of just the stuff we need to get out of the way in order to keep moving forward with the story.

But it was also, just, like, "let's watch Angela Basset act her ass off for 40 minutes", which I can appreciate!

Since I grew up watching MONK and psych, and other mystery-type shows, I couldn't help thinking that Bobby's funeral would've been a REALLY good time for some opportunistic criminals to pull something off while everyone else was occupied and the street was closed down. Maybe a heist?? Or, like, an assassination, if we were gonna go kinda dark.

(I don't think that's gonna happen, it would very much interrupt the solemn tone they've carefully been setting, it's just where my mind went.)

Love that if Bobby does show back up, Athena and Chimney might have to fight it out to see who gets to yell at him first.

[sunny6677]

Epic: The Musical, but Odysseus is an asshole.

Summary:

Odysseus, the King of Ithaca, is determined to get back home alive, for both his wife, and.. well.. son—I guess. But in his long, disastrous adventure with many encounters of monsters and God's alike—the many strange characters Odysseus meet all have to deal with one thing while facing him: He's an asshole.

CHAPTER 2: The Horse and The Infant. (Part 2)

TW FOR SLIGHT GORE DURING THE FIGHTING PART.

————

"What shall we do if this fight doesn't end with a success on our part?"

"..I—suppose we'll keep fighting. I'll doubt we'll lose though. Things usually go better when Odysseus is in charge."

"..yeah. When he's actually trying."

"Do.. you think we'll see our families again? I don't want any of this to be for nothing—"

The chattering between both the soft-spoken Menelaus and Agammemnon ceased, as sudden—sharp, almost manic laughter from Odysseus erupted. It was loud amongst the quieted murmuring of the soldiers—causing most of them to turn their heads as Odysseus stood with his back turned before the nearly opened entrance.

As if to cut into his own laughter with an interruption, Odysseus snapped his head to look at them, and sharply uttered—his lips curling from a sarcastic grin to a low snarl: "Shut up!"

Menelaus furrowed his brows in quiet irritation—while Agammenon glared, furious at the interruption, and hissed in return.

"You're the only one who's talking—!"

"Agammemnon, brother—he'll only talk more if you respond to him. Just let him be." Menelaus whispered, exasperated as he set a hand on Agammemnon's shoulder, though the look in Menelaus' eyes of deep brown had a hardened feel inside—the darkness masking his anger. "Engaging with him isn't worth it."

Odysseus knew how furious he made the men around him. And in all honesty, he couldn't give less than two shits. He didn't ask to be in this war. He wanted to be back at Ithaca, laying in the wedding bed rooted into the ground by the olive tree where they first met. He wanted to be fed by his servants, and to be addressed as if he were above everyone else (which he was—at least, compared to the fools he was forced to be of service to in this war). He wanted to feel the warm embrace of her—his dearest wife, Penelope.

As Odysseus turned, ignoring the murmuring of the two men behind him with a soft stare off into the space of light barely emitting from the entrance—her face came into his mind. Pale-skinned, ebony hair tied into a high bun, long-lashed lids with onyx eyes. The sound of her sweet, soft voice. Just imagining her face was enough to make him soften.

He huffed gently as he thought of her. "Penelope.."

No matter what it'd take, he'd get back to her.

"..don't worry, captain."

A soft voice that he preferred to hear more among the fools within this army spoke from behind him. Odysseus flickered his eyes, though they became less soft than before. A smiling face with light brown skin, black curly hair tied with a red bandana, and dark brown eyes hidden behind the lenses of glasses greeted him.

The face—or rather, the man who greeted him in the darkness, held up a hand—lifting a thumb as if to encourage him.

"You've gotten us far throughout this. I'm sure you'll see your wife and son again."

"..uh.. yeah, sure—" Odysseus blinked. "My wife, and my.. son."

He paused again.

"Is something wrong, Captain?"

Odysseus turned his head again, and let out a sigh.

"No, Politics. I'm fine. It's—it's nothing. I didn't forget I had a son, or.. anything." Odysseus repressed another sigh from coming out of his mouth the more he thought of the young infant he had with his wife back at home. He had honestly forgotten he even had a son, with how occupied he'd been with this damn war.

He was barely able to recall the infants face. Or even his name. Tel.. tele.. television? Telemarket? What was his name?

Meeting the slightly puzzled gaze of Polites, who seemed to be arching a brow for whatever reason—he spoke.

"What was his name?"

"..who?"

"The—the child. That kid I had with Penelope."

Polites paused, and thought for a moment, his eyes slightly widening as if baffled by the question. After a moment of thought, he answered—"Telemachus..? Didn't you name him yourself, Captain?"

"..uh.. yeah. I think so." Odysseus shrugged. "Doesn't matter though. We have a war to fight, Poleets."

"..Pole—Captain, my name is Polites—why do you keep calling me—"

Before Polites could finish, or before Odysseus could hear whatever else he had said, Odysseus bent down and leg his hand seep onto the upper edge of the entrance on the floor. With a quick movement of his hand, he pulled his arm back, and a gust of humid breeze went through the dampness of the interior as light greeted them finally from the outside.

Odysseus looked upon the cobblestone floor, lit by moonlight. He could hear the faint snoring of the Trojan people, laying near or sitting near different tables or spots after a long celebration of 'winning the war'. Too bad they wouldn't be celebrating for long. Well, maybe not too bad. He could celebrate in the exact same fashion as they did out of spite when he got home, since if anything, there was more of a chance he was going to win against them in this battle.

..perhaps Prince Hector would enjoy a statue of his brothers being killed by Neo. That could be a good suggestion to his servants the moment he got back to Ithaca. It would be a fitting reminder of the glory Greece had held over Troy.

After a moment of thinking, Odysseus turned to every soldier behind him, who either wore looks of silent horror, or nervousness. He tried to smirk, though it quickly faded as his exhausted voice filled the room.

"Alright.. let's go fight, you bastards."

————

The walls of Troy had gone from being filled with complete and utter silence, to the sound of a cacophony of endless screaming.

Soldiers ran along the floor, clashing their swords with the opposing men as women and children ran to hide with horrified faces. There were so many regular people among all the soldiers that Odysseus had to have nearly shoved at least 5 or 6 women to the side while running amongst everyone.

Odysseus leapt, gripping the handle of his sword—he whipped up his sword, and clashed it with another soldier. The soldier grunted in rage, waving his sword around with all his might. As he swung it up for a moment, Odysseus ceased an opportunity he held, and lowered his sword—lunging it foward and letting the sharp end lash forth.

He felt the sword impale something soft as he twisted it, and the soldier grunted. With a smirk, Odysseus lifted his head, pulling the sword out, and then lifting his foot. As the soldier stared up with a gape of his mouth, he had no time to react as Odysseus launched his foot foward and kicked him to the ground. The soldier landed with a thud, and Odysseus stood over him with a smug expression.

The soldier twitched, his eyes wide. Odysseus tilted his head. He would have finished the job, but.. this man was very persistent and had been quite strong. He'd been fighting him for about a few minutes at this point, and already he'd been drained.

"Argh.. urgh—" The man grunted.

Odysseus rolled his eyes. "Ugh—sorry, dude," He lifted his foot, "but you're kind of annoying."

He slammed his foot down. The second he lifted it, the man seemed to have shut his eyes. Good. He was unconscious. Odysseus didn't have to deal with him anymore.

Odysseus turned, and ran amongst the crowds of men. He rejoined the fights of other men. He shoved at soldiers, he pushed them down, he had purposefully pushed Agammenon into a group of Trojan Soldiers at some point. Come to think of it, there was one little joy he had gotten out of this: Getting an excuse to release his annoyance through battle. Though, he would count the irritated and terrified looks of some of his comrades as he would sometimes abandon them to fight on their own as another little joy too.

Throughout the battle, as he ran after bashing a Trojan soldiers head against a wall, he let himself stare at some of the men in his own army.

He saw Diomedes, beating the heads of Trojan Soldiers in—seeing as that was sort of all he was good for. Muscle. At least he listened to what Odysseus had said and acted useful for once.

He saw Agammemnon struggling against a nearby wall, lashing his sword onto soldiers who had him cornered. He was being a bit of a handful, but at least he wasn't bothering Odysseus for a change.

He saw Menelaus, still on the ground—being kicked at and beaten by soldiers. Hey—if Odysseus came up and stabbed them from behind, they wouldn't notice since they were too busy beating Menelaus' head in. At least Menelaus was being useful bait within this battle.

Odysseus saw Teucer—nervously standing in the corner with his bow. Off to the side, somehow unnoticed. Of course, if things went wrong, he could grab Teucer by the arm and throw him in front of a few Trojan soldiers. But that didn't need to happen right now.

Little Ajax was.. nowhere to be seen. Which was good. He basically did nothing in battle anyway.

As for Nestor, he was likely retrieving Helen, and.. Neo was probably screaming in rage and killing the brothers of Hector right now, despite Odysseus only giving him vague permission to do whatever he wanted, and not specifically that. Then again, Neo likely wanted it, so that could count. He practically seemed to vibrate with rage anytime the brothers of Hector were brought up anyway, so it was about time the man got himself some form of closure.

Odysseus looked around—no one seemed to notice him or came running toward him. At the same time, he noticed a ladder nearby.

..perhaps, he had a way to sneak out after all. He had to be sure though.

Moving quietly among the men, Odysseus rushed forth, and stopped before the steps. He lifted his hands, and grasped the steps in his palms—lifting himself from the lower part, to the higher half. He heard the faint sounds of grunting grow more quiet as he slowly reached the top, and finally pushed himself upward.

Odysseus spun as he rolled onto the higher ledge, finding himself now laying upon the walls of Troy. He laid there for a moment, before shaking his head, and quickly standing up. Glancing around, he saw only darkness, which likely meant he had a chance to escape without being seen. After all, no one appeared to be up here.

..perfect.

Odysseus smirked, spotting the fence that kept those among the walls from plunging to their deaths. He began to eagerly pace toward it, when—

A shadowed figure lunged before him as he approached, seeming to form from nowhere. He tried to look up, or to see the figures face, but before he could—he felt a lash against his chest. A searing, cold, pain of a lash that felt as if he had been split into two.

Odysseus grunted. As if on time with his pain, thunder growled within the clouds as he gasped, and pressed his hands to his chest. Despite the pain, he felt no injury. No blood. No scar. It was as if the pain hadn't happened at all.

His wide eyes blinked, not noticing the growing darkness, and the rising gray puffs of clouds from on high in the pitch-dark sky. Odysseus cursed.

"Gods.. what.. what the—what the fuck—?! What was that?!"

He winced again. He was about to curse again, ready to yell or fight if he had to. After all, he wouldn't let some shadow bastard prevent him from leaving, no matter if they ascended from Olympus itself or not.

As Odysseus raised his head though—a rumbling voice echoed—speaking only his name, but being tinged with the sharpness of lightning, and the roughess of an old king.

"Odysseus."

Odysseus glanced around. He heard a piercing cry, like an eagle calling out. As lightning flashed within the sky, he swore he saw.. eyes, and the muscular figure of a looming man with long hair staring back at him. An elder hidden in the storm. A king.

A God. Who.. he.. did not seem to recall the name of at the moment.

Odysseus furrowed his brows, looking up in slight alarm. He hadn't known if he had been seeing things, or if truly, this had been a God, but he had one response for this situation.

In an exasperated, baffled tone—he spoke with wide eyes:

"..what the hell?.."

[tea-stained-notes]

Colin x Penelope - Divide | Chapter 9

Colin has made it: He’s a famous pop star, touring the world, adored to extremes. If only he wasn’t drowning his loneliness and anxiety in too many drinks, missing home and yet incapable of going back. But when Violet falls ill and he reluctantly returns he has to face the mess he has made - not only with his family but also the woman who might have always been the one.

Warnings: illness (cancer), death, anxiety, drug use, alcohol abuse, eventual smut

Chapter word count: ~2650

MASTERLIST

I remember less and less and mostly things that I regret In my phone are several texts from girls I've never met And in the pocket of my jeans are only coins and broken dreams My heart is breaking at the seams and I'm coming apart now - Bibia Be Ye Ye

Colin wakes up in the sitting room. His head is pounding and his stomach lurches when he blindly fumbles for his phone. Ten past eleven. He doesn’t know how long he stayed up. There’s only fractured memories, spinning lazily around his head. Confusion. Pain. A bottle of gin. Then clearly: Penelope. The kiss, the panic, the disappointment. The moment she walked away from him, his fragile heart in her hands. Self-loathing rises in his throat, along with last night’s alcohol. He hates himself for relapsing, for falling into old patterns he’s been trying so hard to break. And he hates himself for hurting Penelope. But it all happened so fast and— Shit. He frantically unlocks his phone, searches the news for his alias, then checks his socials to see if he has been tagged in any photos from last night. Nothing so far. Only the usual mass of message requests from adoring fans or mindless bots — it’s hard to tell the difference. Maybe he is lucky for once, maybe the women will not publish the pictures or be too hungover to remember. He slowly rises to his feet, makes his way to the window and rips it open to take in some fresh air. Just as he thinks he might be able to keep the contents of his stomach where they are, the door opens. “Hey, sleepyhead.” Eloise walks in, a strange expression on her features. “You look like shit, dear brother.” He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Did something happen after we left last night?” “Sweet El, never one to beat around the bush.” “Pen's gone, Colin.” “What?” His splitting headache briefly lets up as he stares at her in shock. “There was a note, saying she needed to ‘check up on her flat’. So what the hell happened?” Colin tries to form words but nothing comes out. His brain is once again flooded with the questions that tormented him into the early hours of the morning. Does she regret the kiss? Can they be friends again after this? Would she want to? Would he? Could they ever truly work in the light of day? God, did kissing him make her realise she wants to give Alfred another chance? He should be due back in London any day. Colin imagines them together right now, Penelope laughing in relief as she tells her boyfriend that these past few weeks have been nothing but a silly little nod to days gone by, to something that cannot and should not be revived. That she has been caught up in a fantasy. Colin feels the familiar signs of an oncoming panic attack and just like he has done so many times before, he tries to push the emotions down, to close himself off from his own heart, from his racing mind. He has grown too comfortable with Penelope’s steady presence, too reliant on her wisdom, humour and solace. And he should have never let her get so close in their little corner of the world last night. They had fought off temptation so many times, he should have stopped her before she could imprint herself on his heart in ways he hadn’t thought possible. In ways that no amount of repression and gin could reverse. “Colin?” He finally focuses back on Eloise. “You need to breathe. Hey, look at me. Just try to breathe, okay?” She steps towards him, then carefully places her hands on his arms. He follows her slow, deep inhales and exhales. And after a long moment the anxiety begins to subside. “El,” he whispers. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Eloise tries to calm his as best as she can, tells him that Penelope just needs some time to figure things out. That he is partially to blame, sure, but that she was the one who initiated the kiss. That they will work through this somehow. “I can’t lose her,” he says, his voice trembling. “What’s going on?” Hyacinth stands in the doorway, paling at the sight of her devastated brother. “It’s about Mum,” Eloise quickly replies. “And he has a terrible hangover. Will you fetch some water, coffee and eggs on toast from the kitchen?” “But—“ “Please, Hy.” She leaves reluctantly and Eloise turns back to him. “It’ll be fine, Col.” “I mean it. After everything that’s happened these past couple of weeks… Losing Mum will be hell. But losing any of you again, losing her… I couldn’t bear that, I just—“ “You will not lose her. Pen will always be a part of the family. No matter what, she would never abandon any of us. Haven’t the last five years shown you that?” He thinks of the texts they exchanged after his escape. Strained, sparse. But consistent. Birthday wishes, Christmas greetings, updates on her life and his family, congratulations on his career highlights. Her name on his screen a beacon in the darkness that often threatened to close in on him. “She is confused. Like I said, when it comes to you, something in her brain just gets mushy,” Eloise says with the hint of a smile. “You coming in here like a wrecking ball is clearly making her question everything. But even if she decides not to take a chance on you and your insane life, she will always be there. Pen loves you. I don’t know if she’s still in love with you, she probably doesn’t know herself. But you matter to her.” Colin nods slowly, the nausea once more catching up to him. He instinctively rubs circles on his stomach. “Are you?” Eloise suddenly asks. “Hmm?” “In love with her.” It’s strange to hear the words so bluntly. The question has been rolling around in his head ever since he set eyes on her at the airport. Had his feelings for her ever truly disappeared? Or had he been fooling himself, just like he had about so many other things? Ever since his return he’s been so caught up in this complex web of emotions and circumstances, of hopes and fears and doubts that he cannot separate whatever he’s feeling for her from the rest. His heart is being pulled in a million different directions and all he can do is try to keep it whole. “I’m not sure.” “Really? ‘Cause from what I’ve seen lately you worship the ground she walks on.” “Jesus, El.” He chuckles nervously. “Oh, don’t pretend I’m the dramatic one here.” Eloise smirks, then pulls down his face to press a kiss to his forehead. “Give her some space. She’ll be back.”

Colin is desperate for a walk, to regain even a wisp of clarity, but after what happened last night he doesn’t dare leave the premises any time soon. So he retreats to the gym instead, in a familiar, yet probably vain attempt to sweat out the regret along with the alcohol. He has been training for an hour when Benedict walks in. “Reckoned I’d find you here.” “Why?” “Believe it or not, you’re like Anthony — well, in this regard. I once saw him do 200 sit-ups after he had to let one of our most-trusted employees go for fraud. I thought it was punishment but he said it cleared his head, gave him endorphins or something.” Colin shrugs. “On good days.” Then he frowns. “Has Eloise told you—“ “She didn’t have to. I saw you sleeping on the sofa this morning with a half-empty bottle on the floor. And since El said you all had great fun, I assume something happened with Penelope to have your night take a turn for the worse.” “Ah.” Benedict raises his brows, waiting for a proper reply. But Colin just resumes his bench presses. After a minute of silence his brother grabs a mat from the shelf and rolls it out on the floor. “You’ve heard Ant’s story — and mine,” he says while folding himself into a cross-legged seat. “We Bridgerton men don’t do easy romance, it seems. But it’s all been worth it.” “Ben, I love you, but I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I need to figure it out by myself.” “And here I was thinking you had learned something.” Benedict tilts his head at him. “You have us back, Col. You don’t have to figure anything out by yourself.” Colin lets the barbell crash onto the rack, tears pricking his eyes. He inhales deeply as he sits up. “We’re in the same fucked up situation we were in five years ago. Except this time everything’s worse and now she’s run away and…” He runs his hands across his face. “God, I just don’t know.” “Are you afraid she doesn’t return your feelings? Because I’ve seen a couple of boyfriends come and go and she’s never looked at any of them the way she’s always looked at you.” “Maybe. But I’ve only just got her back as a friend. She’s technically still in a relationship. And this life I’m leading… I can’t force that onto her.” Benedict’s features soften. “No, that’s her decision. But talk to her, Colin. About all of that. Not talking to her was what messed things up last time, wasn’t it?” “Does anyone in this family not know the ins and outs of my history with Penelope?” “It’s pretty much the only entertainment we get these days.” Colin groans. “You’re insufferable.” “You said you love me — no take-backs.” “Uh huh.” He glowers at Benedict, then gestures at his mat. “You still doing yoga?” “And pilates. Otherwise that desk job will have me crippled by thirty-five.” Colin watches for a while as his brother does some neck and shoulder stretches. “Have you ever thought about pursuing art full-time?” “Not sure that would be better for my back.” Benedict grins and Colin rolls his eyes. “Be serious for once.” “Believe it or not, I actually like the job. I have Anthony and Sophie around, Daphne and Eloise often consult. And we’ve been making great progress in pivoting the company from a cash machine to something that actually helps people.” He gives Colin a crooked smirk. “Life’s not all black and white. I don’t have to give up my work to be an artist.” “You’re saying that was just me overreacting?” “No. I think you did have to get away for a while. Just not in such an extreme manner.” They fall silent for a moment. “How did you know about my exhibitions?” Benedict suddenly asks. “What?” “You brought them up the other day. How did you know? I thought you’d blocked us everywhere. Did Pen tell you?” Colin’s hands fidget in his lap. “I made anonymous accounts to follow you. And I have Google alerts for all your names.” “Huh.” “You guys should really be better about privacy.” They smile crookedly at each other. “Maybe we just wanted to leave a back door open for you.”

After a long shower and dinner Colin settles into the sitting room with Hyacinth and Gregory for a while, humouring them with stories of celebrities he’s met over the years. It’s a decent distraction. Still, he checks his phone for any word from Penelope. Nothing. Only two missed calls from Mei. He sighs, deciding to get back to her in the morning. Then he sets the device to Do Not Disturb for the night and leaves it on the side table. Without it near, he might actually get a wink of sleep.

Two hours later he gives up staring at his bedroom ceiling. He clearly doesn’t need his phone to keep overthinking. Colin pulls on some joggers and sits down at his desk. Maybe some of these old lyrics stuffed into the drawers are still salvageable. Then he hears it. Careful steps on the stairs. And he wishes he didn’t know her well enough to recognise the familiar pattern. His breathing grows unsteady as he listens to Penelope’s feet making their way to his door. An eternity passes. A soft sigh, then she retreats and a few seconds later slips into her bedroom, leaving Colin with sweaty palms and a racing heart. Minutes go by, with several voices shouting over each other in his mind until he jumps up and strides out of his room. He doesn’t allow himself to hesitate before knocking softly. There is not a hint of surprise on her face when she opens up. Colin, however, can barely disguise his when he is faced with the copper cascades flowing over her shoulders. They’re even more beautiful than he remembers. “So you’re braver than me,” she whispers, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “Come in.” He nearly trips over the threshold and she clicks the door shut behind him. “Your…” He gestures at her hair and she blushes under his perplexed gaze. “Yeah. You were right. I’m not afraid of being seen anymore. And I didn’t want to keep pretending.” “Well, you look—“ “I broke up with Alfred.” He gapes at her, slack-jawed. “The things you said to me last night… It’s true, I don’t deserve a partner who never prioritises me. Who will never be nearly as invested in me as he is in his work. I’m not sure there was ever a real spark between us anyway. And I felt so guilty after last night, even though he and I were technically on a break, I just… How could I act like there was still a chance for us after kissing someone else?” Someone. “Right, that sounds… reasonable.” “Speaking of, I need to apologise. I was tipsy and I get too brave when I’m tipsy but coming at you like that was not okay and I’m sorry.” She rakes her fingers through her hair and Colin momentarily loses himself in the sight. “I don’t do things like that. These past few weeks have just been very… strange. Some days I barely recognise myself.” He breathes deeply, trying to calm his hammering pulse. “I’ve never meant to rattle you, Pen. You shouldn’t be caught up in my mess. If you want me to keep my distance for a while, I will.” “No. Please don’t.” She steps closer and his heart rate skyrockets again. “I’m sorry I pushed you away last night. I was just… so ashamed and confused and then those women—” “Again, I’m so sorry that—“ “Colin, it’s okay. You got pulled back into your pop star life for a second, I understand. I mean, not really, but you know.” She smiles and he hesitantly returns it. “And you came running after me.” “Of course.” “Why?” He hesitates. “Because I needed you to be safe.” A long pause. “Right. Well, I was fine but thank—“ “And because I didn’t want them, I want you.” The words pour from his mouth before he can contain them and in an instant his stomach is flooded with anxiety. But he can’t backtrack. Because now that he’s said the words he knows them to be true with perfect clarity. Penelope just stares, wide-eyed and flushed. When she finally recovers her voice is thin. “Do you mean that?” His eyes flit between hers, unable to decipher what is going on behind them. He swallows hard. “If you’d rather forget about that kiss, I understand. But I never will.” A wave of lavender and honey overwhelms him when she stumbles into his space, one hand landing on his chest, the other reaching up to his jaw. He trembles beneath her touch. “Please,” he whispers, ignoring the screams in his head that this might be another mistake. “Please, Pen.” She gazes at him in pure wonder. And then she finally presses her lips to his.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 10

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[daistea]

Hey, so. I wanted to ask about the interpretation of pre-Dungeon Lord Mithrun as being very catty and Regina George-like. Personally, and I've got no problems with it, I'm just really curious where it comes from, but I don't get that read. He was catty and petty and all sorts of unpleasant, but Misril essentially confirms that he kept it all inside because he seemed so perfect and his Dungeon was some great surprise to her. Built on lies and jealousy and inferiority but she had no idea whatsoever. He was festering in silence, I think, and all that ugliness was tucked inside. He was scrambling. Probably imagining himself as alone and unique in his ugliness and failing to speak truthfully about his feelings because he must've been taught that ugly things - like affairs and disabled brothers? - are to be hidden. You're something else before you're a person, so you must be nice and kind and good and emblematic of that. And it isn't as if I was raised in any position of power, but royal houses can be sort of emblematic of that kind of repression of personality, where being small and quiet and smooth and obedient is "good personhood". He was revealed as a mean drunk, but that's about it. Truly, I think catty Mithrun is comfortable Mithrun, so I like to imagine that post-Dungeon Mithrun is the catty one. I think it's funny to imagine our relationship, as it were, and imagine people watching with him and judging people for the fun of it. It's not personal or to feel better or anything. It's just because, and he says some truly out of pocket shit, and I'm there, a little reprimanding, like, "Oh my God! You can't just say that..." and I'm looking at him. And he's looking at me without saying anything. An eyebrow raised. My expression cracks. I look away and snort. "God," I say again. "Oh my God. Yeah. Okay. Fine." Laughingly, "Uh... That's the tackiest, brightest jacket I've ever seen in my life. It is disgustingly offensive. My eyes are practically burning. Is that it?" And he smiles a little. Barely there. And I groan and lightly smack his shoulder. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" He shrugs, "Was it honest?" "Yeah. I mean, I'm exaggerating for the fun of it all, but..." I shudder. "God, it's horrible," and then maybe I get into it, like the minutiae of opinions. Being very opinionated. "And it's worse because not even badly shaped! It'd be fine if it was, like, a simple black coat or something. The texture looks okay, but it has the worst patterning, the worst shapes and colors and—!" And he's laughing out loud. Holding his hands on his stomach, because I've gone full into gesturing and I'm getting so heated about a stupid coat that doesn't even matter, but it's fun! It's amazing. We're having a great time, and I'm laughing, too, because it's silly and it doesn't matter and I'm happy like this. We both are. He frowns a little, and goes, "Okay, what about that shirt?" and making his own statements, like "Ugh. That gold looks like vomit", and we play off eachother, like "Ough. Yeah, and that red with that shade is so bright." I raise my eyebrows. "Evocative." Mithrun hums. "Blood and vomit," he nods. "Ew." We look at eachother and shake our heads sort of sagely. And then I crack first. I almost always break first.

Ye when we joke about pre-dungeon Mithrun being catty, it’s more like he’s catty on the inside. He’s canonly critical and judgmental and angry in his own mind, but I think he also genuinely loves his friends. He just can’t help but be a negative nelly in his head bc insecurity and whatnot. I think if pre-dungeon Mithrun was especially close to someone, close enough to let his true nature show(which would be incredibly rare) then he’d express those thoughts outwardly. But in secret. Nobody realizes he’s catty, but he is. Because he’s passive aggressive and fake lol

I do think post-dungeon Mithrun is a jerk too, but he has no reservations about expressing it anymore because he has no desire to keep up appearances. He doesn’t dislike his old self because his old self was mean, he dislikes his old self because he just automatically dislikes himself in any form. And even then I think that’s subconscious. When he corrects Kabru and basically says ‘no I wasn’t perfect at all’ he’s just stating a fact. He has very little feeling on the matter other than resentment towards his own actions and emotions that led him to the demon and subsequent trauma.

I think Misiril prob taught him that being relatively polite gets him places, it keeps everybody around him from wanting to leave. And if they left then he wouldn’t have the necessary manpower to defeat the demon. So if he makes the decision to keep certain thoughts to himself, it’s either because it’s easiest/out of habit/to prevent an obstacle in his quest. I mean obviously he still says outlandish crap (“Inferior species.” “CAPTAIN THATS RACIST!”) but I think that’s because he knows it wont really matter in the long run in those cases, so he just says whatever’s on his mind without a care of how it sounds.

But yeah post-canon Mithrun would probably be way more relaxed. If he’s with someone he’s close to, he’d point out an ugly shirt. I wouldn’t call him catty, because there’s no passive aggressive-ness there. He’s just blunt. His old self would have an absolute heart attack because iTS NOT PROPER STOP IT YOURE GOING TO MAKE PEOPLE HATE YOU!!!

The juxtaposition between his past and present is so interesting. They’re like two different people, so different but still similar in some ways. Hmm

[samsblades]

sam and someone who doesn’t believe in love>>

like i feel like she’s a hunter too but she was raised by a hardass father who didn’t take shit from no one and basically told her from the get go that most men r shitty ppl so she’d js make herself as undesirable as she could.

she woulda definitely met sam n dean on a hunt and she woulda saved them bc she can absolutely kick ass and sam was like an in love puppy straight away, and he tries to be like “hey let’s be friends” but she’s like “i don’t do friends” and leaves it at that but like a year later they meet again at the roadhouse and i feel like some of the old men hunters were definitely talking shit abt sam so she’d kick their asses. also dean lays it on THICK with her but she’s like “hit on me again and i’ll knock your teeth out” and he doesn’t so him n her have a sibling dynamic from then on.

but yeah no shes got a soft spot for sam, a tiny one but its there, she slips him her number but is like “we’re not friends, it’s only if you need help” and leaves and again he’s in love all over again but she’s like a ghost to him, when she appears it’s brief and his heart hurts when she goes. anyways he calls her (not for help js to talk) and she hangs up because it’s not for case help.

they meet again at bobby’s where she’s crying (very unusual for her because she’s very cold and tough) but basically her dad died and bobby was comforting her and sam wants to but she’s not a touchy person and tries to keep her façade up in front of him and fight his hugs but eventually stops resisting and just cries in his arms, also remember that by this point sam’s in love with her. i think she’s starting to day but she’s like “nah i don’t do love” very stubborn but they don’t see each other in person for around 2 years, only phone calls

then they meet again and she’s the one in trouble and sam n dean both save her, while getting drunk they get on the topic of convo (love) and she says she doesn’t believe and sam does and sam actually rambles on cutely about it and she kinda falls for him but represses it and an extremely drunk sam confesses his feelings to her and she just shuts down and leaves and she gets into a car crash, she deffo has bobby as her next of kin since her dad is gone so the boys find out so sam sees her in that state and breaks down crying bc the woman he’s loved for so many years is laid in a hospital bed hooked up to sm things but he stays with her and his face is the first she sees when she wakes up and sam lays her head on her and she comforts him

anyways she decides to get closer to sam and they become friends and they have deep conversations about love, she puts it down to oxytocin n shit and he tells her why it’s sm more than that and she thinks she’s starting to believe but she’s like “nah dude” to herself

anyways she asks bobby for advice n he says to give sam a chance so she calls him and drops the coordinates to a really pretty willow tree by a lake with a gazebo thing and she dresses up the best she can (that being makeup and a pretty dress, accentuates the chest but the rest is imaginative) and he loses his breath for a minute because of how you look under the gazebo light and you tell him how he made you believe and that you love everything you know about him and he cries and kisses you and ur like “why u crying” n he’s like “happy tears honey” and yeah

the timeline for everything above this is between s1-5, so sam waited 4/5 years

ofc she loves dean like a brother, their relationship bloomed into a very nice platonic sibling thing and she occasionally lets him hug her when she needs it

but sam writes her poetry n stuff and they’re like the cutest and sexiest couple, also the loudest, the get a separate room sometimes and dean is like “dudes keep it down i can hear you through the wall u freaks” and it’s the same in the bunker, even when u both think ur quiet dean can still hear shit, he also walked in on u n him while u were on top and sam shielded ur body so good like yes pussy queen slay come here and protect me like that‼️

-💽

this is like a whole ass long fic someone could make this into a series probably like wow. this eats so hard <33 just such a good storyline i love love love it <333 you said it all bbg i don't even think i could contribute to this LOL wagh the potential for all the good fic tropes is absolutely there I JUST LOVE ITTT <333

[atopvisenyashill]

IF YOU LIKE THIS ASOIAF CHARACTER, I THINK YOU’LL LIKE THIS FARSCAPE CHARACTER

i did a “all gays” thing for my birthday last year but i was too lazy this year. instead here is my opinion of farscape & asoiaf characters, comparing characters i think are similar.

if you like theon greyjoy…i think you’ll like john crichton (he’s the main character).

Conga Line Of Trauma

Very loose grip on reality

Struggles with choosing between the family he’s been kidnapped into and the family he was born into

Top Two best story arcs about male victims of sexual trauma imo

Copes by imagining himself as a character in a story rather than face his reality

Pathetic wet cat of a man

if you like jaime lannister…i think you’ll like aeryn sun

theyre hot shit and everyone knows it even though they hate it - the ☀️ radiant aeryn sun☀️ and “was there ever a man as beautiful and terrible”

Well known for being good at their job (which is killing people)

Idealist that got that idealism beaten out of them

constantly repressing emotions

an arc that is very romance centered but atypical as a traditional romance

if you like brienne and/or sandor…i think you’ll like ka d’argo.

Young, experienced but not too experienced military type

Struggles with idealism and what being a soldier/knight should mean

Not forthcoming about backstory

Struggles with temper

Cool And Important Weapon And Mount

Considered mindlessly violent by many

Very weird about romance and sex

if you like catelyn stark…i think you’ll like pa’u zotah zhaan

religious and maternal

pacifist tendencies but also will cut a bitch if pressed

Infamous for being unpleasant

Traumatic death scenes

Questionable relationship with the concept of dying and staying dead

MILFs

if you like sansa and arya stark…i think you’ll like chiana

Their Series’ Hottest It Girls

Idolizes rebellion leading older brother (who ultimately abandons her in favor of his rebellion)

Desperate for family

Holds emotions close, but highly emotional

Taste for finer things in life

Baby of the group

Struggles with grief and anger

Spunky go getter

Questionable taste in romantic relationships

if you like tyrion lannister….i think you’ll like scorpius

mother died birthing him and he struggles with this immensely

tormented by a crazy ruthless woman in power

feels betrayed by a lover of a lower social status just trying to get by and gets real violent over it

The Anti Villain - has very good reasons to be insane but holy shit is he insane

Always survives despite all odds against him

If you like Joffrey Baratheon…I think you’ll like Dominar Rygel XVI (hear me out!)

Absolute ruler who faces civil war

Wildly misogynistic weirdo

Weak grasp on morality

Turned into a violent, selfish asshole as a trauma response

Hates women yet his deepest, most profound and intimate relationships are with a woman he’s not even fucking

Remains selfish and violent throughout the story but also, if you talk shit about him i will throw hands

if you like samwell tarly…i think you’ll like Pilot.

Couple of sweet fools

Underrated for being a bad ass

Intimate relationship with a Very Cool Lady From A Bad Situation (gilly/moya. moya is a living ship btw).

Just wants to be a nerd and hang with his gf (again, gilly and moya)

Doesn’t believe in himself the way he should

if you like stannis baratheon…i think you’ll like bailar crais.

Is he a hero? is he a villain? is he an anti villain? is he an anti hero? you decide!

loses his everloving mind after his brother dies

sad traumatic childhood backstory

an arc focused on what service and leadership means

[SPOILER REDACTED]

HE thinks he’s the straight man in a circle of freaks and he thinks this while being objectively the biggest freak there

and last but not least let’s go to my babies!!!!

if you like bran stark…i think you’ll like stark.

Overwhelming magical abilities

Connects magically in intimate, voyeuristic ways

Potentially unkillable

Considered a sweetie by Local MILF (his mom/zhaan)

Struggles processing a personal loss

A narrative focus on the importance of bodily autonomy

Doesn’t have as much screentime/page time as he deserves

[skippersthecat]

Ok but Teruhashi and Hairo's friendship!? We deserve to see more of it. They are both model students, extremely hardworking (too hardworking please take a nap), kind to everyone, and universally liked.

They are both loved by all, but no one wants to get into a serious relationship with them. They present themselves as perfect and pure while repressing their darker tendencies. They overwork themselves to make others happy and hold themselves to impossible standards.

I imagine they would have such a wonderful friendship. Hairo is one of the few characters that doesn't offu at Teruhashi, yet she doesn't seek his approval like with Saiki. She knows he doesn't idolize her for her beauty and won't treat her like an object. She also knows he's too kindhearted to have any ulterior motive with her. Hairo would respect Teruhashi for working so hard to make others happy. He would also probably intimidate Teruhashi's weird stalkers and beat the shit out of her brother if it came down to it.

[beevean]

I noticed a stark difference between the endings of LoI and CoD, and how the fandom has received them.

LoI doesn't shy away from how tragic its ending is. Sure, Leon survived his encounter with Death, but how does he end the game? Utterly alone. He didn't save Sara in time, and was forced to kill her to spare her the curse of vampirism. His best friend Mathias used him as a pawn (and planned Sara's death to boot) for the sake of becoming a vampire, and he fled with only a broken heart. He doesn't have a title anymore, he doesn't work for the Church anymore, the only thing he has left is his vow of revenge (and, I suppose, he could keep in touch with Rinaldo).

The last we see of Leon is him walking away from the castle with a dead eyed look on his face. And I have seen fans trying to imagine how broken Leon would be for the rest of his life, finding a new woman to have children with but still grieving Sara, pushing his children and descendants to become vampire hunters to carry his vow. It's unambiguous.

By contrast, CoD's ending is happy... on the surface. After all his losses and traumatic experiences, Hector was saved by his suicide attempt by Julia, and the two end the game living together.

But as much as I'm glad Hector is finally smiling, he really has no reason to, considering every major character should by all means be as miserable as Leon.

Hector hasn't even begun to properly mourn Rosaly, because all he could think was killing Isaac, but now he's dead and he didn't even die by his own hands and if he did Hector would have become Dracula and anyway Isaac can't be fully blamed for Rosaly's death. That's a lot to take in, that is a lot of time and energy wasted for nothing, on top of the humiliation of being used as a pawn. And I think everyone and their mother has discussed about how unhealthy it is to grow attracted to Julia only because she looks identical to Rosaly: in-universe, it looks like he's nowhere near ready to heal. And let's not forget that he attempted to let himself die out of guilt and despair twice in the span of three years.

Julia has lost her brother, her pleads to save him all in vain while the man who wanted to kill him so badly simply willed himself to not be Cursed anymore - what kind of injustice is that? And she seems to be coping with that... badly:

Julia: Those hearts are yet filled with darkness. The cursed has reached deep inside of them. Its mark will not easily vanish. For my brother, only death could erase it. (saddened) Hector: Julia... Julia: (hopeful) All the same, people are not such fools. Their hope lies in one another. They shall realize that in time. Scars will fade and be lost to memory... Let us have faith in the morrow.

yeah right "hopeful" she's repressing so hard, the very second Hector starts to show concern for her she launches into a speech that boils down to "eh it will get better soon <3". girl is going to have the mother of breakdowns off screen.

And nice of her to also remind us that Wallachia isn't suddenly a paradise! The Curse had three years to seep deep into everyone. People will probably still steal, hurt and kill each other for a while.

And what about poor Trevor? The story unceremoniously kicks him out of the plot, but he has survived the events! And what's he gonna do once he heals (and assuming he'll recover perfectly from being stabbed from back to chest)? He'll return home with his tail between his legs, his mission a complete failure due to his own recklessness, he too was used as a pawn but didn't even get the cathartic moment of kicking the shit of Isaac and Death, and... you know, we meme on the stabbing scene a lot because it's. well. it's very CoD. but if you put yourself in Trevor's boots, being not only nearly killed and mocked but essentially molested, by being forcibly hugged from behind and kissed on the neck, it must have felt so gross and humiliating.

So yeah. In a way, all of this can be summarized as "the ending of CoD is tonally dissonant and kind of rushed, creating uncomfortable implications". But I believe the consequences could be eviscerated and deconstructed before being fixed with headcanons.

I wrote a fic about Hector "breaking up" with Julia after realizing that living together was only making them miserable. Or maybe they could have stayed together longer, but it would be clear that, as much as they genuinely like each other and can support each other in their shared grief, they are only clinging onto each other as poor substitutes of what they've lost. Or maybe Julia could grow to resent Hector for being alive in Isaac's stead (or, even worse, being constantly called the name of a dead woman :P)

And I wouldn't be opposed to reading a fic about Trevor readjusting again to his home life, but while three years prior he had come back as a hero, now he's ashamed and angry and jumpy, who knows for how long.

Of course this is all eventully fixable, they're not doomed to be depressed for all life. It's just interesting to think about, and I noticed few people seem willing to think about the post-CoD effects, unless it's to criticize the Helia romance from a writing standpoint.

anyway they needed to invent therapy in the 10th century

[sunflowersoap]

I know the way basil, sunny, and aubrey feel about mari's death is a lot more obvious in Canon but I really like the little bits of how they show the brothers problems too.

kel doesn't seem to be close with anyone now. he mentioned that hero is more closed off than before. he didn't think sunny would answer but still was obsessively knocking on that door. he was still clinging onto the idea that he and basil were still friends. he mentions that his parents didn't even notice that he was crying, just went right to hero. nobody notices when kel is sad except hero, and hero is more closed off now. so I can only imagine how alone kel felt. and aubrey only attacks *kel* in that first fight. so he was,,, really really isolated. I think he tried to take on hero's role after he fell into that depression. happy and peppy and keeping everyone's spirits up high. and the more he fails to do it, the more useless he feels. the more he feels helpless. he ignores the problems because he feels like there's nothing he can do to fix them. he feels so weak. so he ignores the problems. ignorance is bliss, and if he doesn't keep moving he'll fall apart. so he doesn't let himself stop for even a second. he's trying to make everything be normal again. he doesn't know how.

onto hero. look at how much he puts on a charming golden child persona. this could very much be me projecting, but I'm imagining he got so fucking exhausted looking after everyone else. he's always the one stopping fights and solving everyone's problems and keeping everyone together. and overtime the anger from that can build up, leaving you so exhausted to the point where you don't have the energy left to care. he's always expected to be the golden kid. the charming, kind hero. no wonder when he started feeling like shit, the feeling hit him hard. he probably spent so many nights wondering what he could've done to get through to mari. if it was his fault for not realizing she felt like that. if he'd done something to make her want that. how exhausting it was for him to pretend to be happy and charming, to be supportive of everyone and go back to being the go getter charming little hero. he must've been so fucking tired. tired of fixing everyone's problems, tired of never being listened to, tired of everything. that frustration of not being listened to turned into anger, and it all came out at the mention of mari. (still really not great of him! not excusing his actions!)

basically, hero and kel both hide and repress their emotions for different reasons and they're such fascinating characters.

[blaiddfailcam]

dumb shippy stuff dont open

it is kinda funny how i've always been kinda quiet about shipping ranni and blaidd because of the ever so slight hint of "incest" between a literal doll and the inexplicably wolf-headed adoptive "stepbrother" whom was frankensteined out of her very soul, only for the actual canon of the game to hinge upon honest to god selfcest between marika and radagon, and for the dlc's story to be upon miquella and radahn, who are literally half-brothers, lol. i still try not to bring it up much because shipping is cringe and i'm so not cringe, but like.

you can't tell me blaidd wasn't even a little bit desperate to be with ranni, even if he didn't know about the whole consort thing. like, the guy refuses to believe anyone that he would be forced to betray her, and even *defies* the control of the two fingers themselves to prevent himself from being used as a weapon, and defends her tower from the assassins in the process... like, i don't doubt for a second that he also genuinely hates the tarnished in the end, nor that he would have tossed ranni a ring hadn't he been cursed to betray her.

this is kinda why i fire blanks sometimes with "blaidd sucks" and "he's too into his sister." it's not even that i particularly like incest ships, i just hate the fucken self-ship shit for either of them lmao. elden ring is a story about the stupidest fucking pantheon imagineable marrying within itself and realistically i don't think blaidd could ever in a million years think of anyone BUT ranni. everything he does is out of an obsessive longing for her, evsn if it was doomed from the beginning. and mmm i slurp up trsgedies like that like a pig. also men dying for being creeps is good and just 🥰

remarkably, this ship is still kinda rare to see in the wild, but it feels... better that way. a secret little stupid brainrot thing. the downside is that his tag is flooded with hypermasculine furry porn that all sucks and invents a completely different version of him, lmfao. like no! sorry but he's an awful little creep who once almost died of repressing a boaner !

[generic-enthusiast]

i find it incredibly funny that the closer to a crack ship something is, the more likely i am to write fluff about it.

like darry and ponyboy? never knew a happy day in their lives. they're never happy and brothers and getting along. one of them has to be on the brink of death. they don't know the other loves them. they think they hate each other. constant worry and regret and feeling like they mess things up and saying things too late.

soda and steve? semi-canon. they're best friends but they're gay in my head so like... there's homophobia and repressed emotions and shit, but they generally get a happy ending. more hurt/comfort where depending on how i'm feeling i lean more into the hurt or the comfort.

and then you get to marcia and evie who are living their best lives. homophobia? social class conflict? who's she? never heard of her. personalities based on projection and imagination. a relationship made up of personal yearning and idk whatever i had for breakfast. they're painting their nails together and laughing at nothing and generally thriving.

why should you care about this? you shouldn't. you probably don't. it's my blog.

[draw-you-coward]

memory of a lover

ao3

The Grove is vast in its bareness, the arching boughs of the Pale Tree the only established structures in the open space. Trahearne considers this now as a brother presses him, concern in his wringing hands.

“I do not wish to harm her,” he entreats. “Say I can shape my Dream, Eldest Brother, and I shall at least have your word’s security behind my sculpting hands.”

Truth be told, Trahearne has no idea what will harm their dear Mother and what will not. “Do what you will, but start small,” he advises. “Come to me if you have any hesitations at all, and I will speak with her to guide your path.”

Kahedins clutches his arm with both hands, squeezing in thanks. Trahearne watches him leave, uncertainty nibbling at his vines. But he dismisses himself with a brusque shake of his head—even with all their emptiness, there is no space in Mother’s branches for his doubt. He must lead his fellow sylvari in their endeavors, staying strong and flexible as a young tree no matter the winds that batter it.

“Another crisis averted by your leading hand,” a voice murmurs into his ear. He barely represses a shiver, turning his head to the side.

“Riannoc,” he greets as a hand cups the back of his neck. It is an easy to thing to give in, to taste the warm mouth pressing to his. It still feels new, this, despite them being joined for many months now.

“Eldest amongst us,” his lover returns, just scraping low enough to be teasing. “Have our siblings worn you out yet today?”

The casual regard for his wellbeing makes his heart swell. “Kahedins seeks only a path forward,” Trahearne defends regardless, not entirely knowing why. “If I can assist him, why shouldn’t I?”

Riannoc holds his face, worry in his brilliant eyes. “I do not wish for you to stretch yourself too thinly, dearheart,” he says. “Kahedins—or any of them—can wait until the morrow.”

Trahearne leans into the touch, although he is caught on how to feel about the words. Yes, they can all wait, but they do not have to, if he can help them. Then again, why does his soul yearn so for the rest and care his beloved provides?

“I suppose you’re right,” he acknowledges, perhaps a bit too easily. Riannoc smiles, radiant as the sun.

“Perfect,” he says. “Make no mistake—I harbour no desire to discourage our brother from his pursuits. He has even said he will shape us a house, though the Grove is already our home. Imagine that—privacy. We can do much out of sight from seeking eyes.”

This time his tone is certainly teasing. Trahearne feels himself flush. It is ludicrous how easily this man can summon such a response in him, when his role amongst them all is to retain his composure. Ludicrous, embarrassing, and a little dangerous. Riannoc probably delights in his mysterious ability.

A strong hand winds around his waist and he yelps at it, caught by its grip and surprise. Riannoc grins, his daring spiking the Dream—he has too much, more than enough for both of them and then some—and pulls him close.

“But nothing that cannot be done beneath a shadowed enough canopy,” he says.

“Rian—noc!” Trahearne pushes at him, though his indignation is spiking to something warmer. Riannoc is—he is a lot, sometimes, and he wants… things, other times, perhaps more than Trahearne would want them, but that are nonetheless thrilling. And he has a way of getting what he wants, just as he had gotten Trahearne, and speaking of having Trahearne—

Roza surfaces from the Scrying Pool with a cooling inhale, shaking the water from his head. Well. Never should anyone say that history is boring. Trahearne, seated on the pool’s lip, reaches down to help him out.

“Did all go well? You emerged rather abruptly,” he asks in concern as Roza swings his legs out of the water.

“You were about to start fucking. Thought it might be best to make my exit.”

Trahearne makes a face like he has just stepped in a mountain of griffon shit he somehow hadn’t seen directly underfoot. Roza grins at him, wringing out his braid.

“Not that the show wouldn’t have been entertaining,” he says, “But I have better things to do with my two minutes.”

Trahearne doesn’t even argue that. “Thank you for—by the Tree. There should really be some sort of censor.”

“I could feel everything you were feeling—woo!” Roza fans himself. “You definitely have a type, by the way.”

Trahearne gives him a long-suffering look. Roza chuckles and bends down to his diary on the ground to note his observations. Strong build, slightly above average height, strong grip. Woo. And a twinkle in his eye that he does not think a commemorative statue can capture.

“It is a kind thing you are doing,” he says when he has written all he can remember. “The newborn need guidance now more than ever, in this new chapter of society. Your home will give them a connection to the past that is ever more elusive.”

Trahearne shifts, always uncomfortable in the face of sincere praise. “It was not just my home,” he replies. He looks down. “Is not. He… would not have wanted it to stay empty and purposeless as it has been all these years. To turn it into a place of learning is a connection to our younger generations he never had the chance to form. I think I just did not want to share.”

Roza lays a hand on his arm. “He was very special to you,” he says in a lower voice. “I could tell. The respite he offered to someone in your position must have been so very rare and precious.”

Trahearne looks sad. “It was,” he acknowledges. “We had our disagreements, but… in the moment you just saw, he was mine alone. Then he died and became everyone else’s.”

Roza squeezes his arm. “I am sorry,” he says softly.

Trahearne swallows his sudden grief. What is it, to attack him here? Not just for Riannoc himself, but for every circumstance they were in in those early days. How could they have known how much they would lose? They barely knew how to live, and then they knew how to die.

“Thank you for agreeing to do this in my stead,” he says. “I do not know if I could have… well, you are aware.”

“Of course, darling.” Roza tips his head to the side, a gleam in his eye emerging not unlike one from thirty years past. “Do you want to stop at the Diving Pelican? The Priory?”

“As a consolation prize for knowing you nearly experienced getting skewered by my old lover firsthand?” Trahearne grumbles good-naturedly.

“As a consolation prize for perhaps never getting to do the skewering yourself, hm?” Roza bats his eyelashes. “Although you did not seem to have any issue with that.”

This is what he gets for opening the gates to the wilderness. “Let us away to the Priory,” Trahearne chooses, getting up. “I am taking advantage of your pass to the restricted section.”

“Didn’t seem terribly restricted,” Roza shoots in right before the gates close. Trahearne taps him on the tip of his pointy nose as admonishment.

“Get it out of your system before we get there,” he sighs, resigned. They wave to the gate guards as they near. They salute smartly.

Roza salutes back. “We are heading straight for the erotica,” he bargains without moving his mouth.

“Deal. But no stealing,” Trahearne returns similarly.  

“We’ll see what you say when we get there.”

Which is fair. Trahearne takes his hand, and they step through the gate.