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persevereforahappyending · 2 days ago

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A Legacies Regret |6|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You were living in New York with your girlfriend, trying to forget about last year and just enjoy life, but that was easier said than done. (Sequel to A Legacies Secret)

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1.8k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | A Legacies Secret Masterlist

Tara laid with her head rested on your chest, just listening to your steady heartbeat. She knew she should be on edge, Ghostface was back, they didn’t have time to waste. As soon as the three of you got back to the apartment though, it seemed all three of you agreed to just take the rare moment and rest. Tara let you take a shower first and by the time she was done you were changed and sprawled out on the bed.

Tara only hesitated for a second to curl up next to you. The two of you were fine in a life-or-death situation but this was the first time either of you had a break since the attacks. As soon as you opened your eyes, you gave her that look, the despite being half sleepy you were still very aware of when she entered the room, that look. That’s all it took for Tara to lay down next to you. She would have jumped on the bed and tackled you with a hug, but you had a long night.

Tara glance up at you, you fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as your arm wrapped around Tara. She wasn’t sure how you did it, you endured so much, even before all the stuff with Ghostface. Tara’s life wasn’t great, at least in terms of family, but yours was just as bad. You actually had it worse in some ways. Tara had Chad, Mindy, their mom, then of course Wes and his mom, she even had Amber. You didn’t have anyone though, you sort of had Dewey, but it wasn’t in the same way, he wasn’t a parental figure to you at the time, he just saw a kid who needed help.

Then you learned the truth about your family, you practically found them and lost them in the same day. Gale was still around but Tara wasn’t sure how that relationship would evolve, if it ever did. Though her motives were selfish there was a part of Tara that saw what Gale did as protecting you. If people knew you were Gale and Dewey’s kid you would have been in danger, you probably would have been part of the attacks back in 2011, you were only in middle school then. And as if to prove her theory correctly as soon as the truth was discovered you were a target, it seemed that no matter what, you would have been dragged into this mess, whether it was because you were related to Dewey and Gale or because you were dating Tara, it seemed inevitable for you to become a target.

Despite everything though you still put Tara first. You didn’t care where the two of you moved as long as Tara was happy, that’s what you always told her. You said you wanted her to choose where she wanted to go to college, and you’d just happily follow along. Tara knew you didn’t particularly care about Woodsboro, besides her, you didn’t have anyone there, but you still didn’t seem to be bothered about having to uproot your life and start all over.

It wasn’t an excuse but one of the reason Tara missed the signs that you were hurting was because you simply didn’t let her see. You walked around the city with her, despite the obvious pain you had to have been in. You went to parties with her, even though you hated them. Tara was sure the main reason for the parties was to keep an eye on her, but you still tried to have fun, you let Tara drag you around, you danced with her, you did it all when Tara was sure you’d rather be back home, cuddled up watching a movie together.

“You’re thinking too loud,” your raspy voice came, breaking Tara out of her thoughts. Your eyes barely opened as you looked down at her. “What’s on your mind?”

“How amazing you are,” Tara whispered. You rolled your eyes as if you thought she was joking. “I’m serious,” she rolled over, so half her body was over you, but she was not able to look you in the eye. “You’re perfect.”

Your hand brushed the a few stray hair that fell into her eyes back behind her ear. “I’m hardly perfect.”

“Well, compared to me you are,” her eyes fell in shame.

When Tara found it in herself to look at you again you were frowning. “I’ve been a shitty girlfriend,” Tara whispered.

“You haven’t-”

“Yes,” she cut you off. “I have. I’ve been terrible to you.”

“You haven’t.” Tara rolled her eyes, you made it nearly impossible to argue with you, especially when it came to Tara trying to talk bad about herself. “We go on dates, we’ve seen the city,” you went from frowning to giving her a loving smile.

“I’ve been ignoring your problems.” Your frown was quick to return. It seemed as though the only thing Tara was good at lately was hurting you. “You’ve been hurting and all I’ve been is selfish.” Tara averted her gaze; she attempted to blink away her tears, but it was clear she failed when she felt your thumb brush against her cheek. “You deserve better.”

“It’s not your fault.” Tara closed her eyes; you still weren’t hearing her it seemed. She couldn’t help but lean into your touch. “A lot happened to you; you’ve been dealing with just as much shit.”

“No, I haven’t,” Tara shook her head.

As much as she said she was fine and refused to see someone, Tara wasn’t dealing with it. Tara hadn’t dealt with any of it since it happened. Her solution was just to pretend everything was fine, act as if her best friend didn’t try and kill her, act as if none of it happened as if everything were normal. Tara was sure she’d go to parties if the attack never happened, but she wouldn’t be doing it as much as she currently was. She saw parties as a way to escape and drink her problems away, if she drank enough then maybe she wouldn’t have nightmares. The only thing that seemed to stop the nightmares though, was you. Even if she still got woken up from one, nothing brought her more comfort then knowing you were right there holding her.

“You never talk about Dewey,” she said as soft as she could, though it still didn’t seem to be enough with the way your entire body went rigid at his name. “I never asked because I didn’t want to cause you anymore pain.”

She should have asked you about it. Maybe deep down the real reason she didn’t ask was because she knew it would involve talking about everything else that happened. She still should have asked, she shouldn’t have been selfish. You always put her first, the very least she could have done is ask how you were doing after everything that happened. Maybe you wanted to talk about it but because Tara didn’t ask and pretended everything was alright, you pushed everything down.

“You can talk about him,” she said, another tear rolling down her cheek. “I never want you to feel like you can’t, not with me. I know it hasn’t seemed like it, but I will be here for you.” She rested a hand on your chest, right over your heart. “You can even talk about Gale,” Tara added. “If you want.”

Her little joke seemed to work because you huffed out a laugh, but she could feel the vibrations through her body. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” you whispered but there was a soft smile on your face.

Your smile soon fell, and you furrowed your brow. Tara waited to see what it was you were thinking, you were clearly contemplating something important. “I’m,” you whispered, your voice much smaller than before. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to talk about…” you swallowed and began blinking rapidly.

“It’s okay,” Tara assured. “Whenever you are. Just know, I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

“You never have to thank me.” She reached up to caress your cheek “But I’m going to do better, I promise. I’m going to be the kind of girlfriend you deserve.”

“Things have been…” you sucked in a breath as you seemed to search for the word you wanted. “Off with us lately.” Tara couldn’t help but scoff, that was certainly putting it nicely, she had been horrible. If the roles were reversed and she was treating herself this way she would have certainly broken up with herself. “But never think you’re not good enough.”

Tara laid her head back down on your chest, closing her eyes as she focused on your heartbeat again. She couldn’t help but lightly brush her fingers across the bandage on your arm, making sure to avoid the area the cut was.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt because of me,�� she whispered.

“I don’t intend to leave you any time soon,” you whispered, your grip around her tightening, as if you could somehow pull her even closer. “But I won’t let you get hurt again. I-I can’t,” your voice cracked. “I can’t see you like that again.”

“Lets just…” Tara sighed, she wasn’t sure what she could say to that, how she could comfort you. “Rest right now.”

That seemed to work because within minutes Tara noticed how your breathing evened out and your heartbeat became steady again. Sam was home, no one would get past her and Tara was in your arms right now, the safest place she could possibly be. Tara took the moment and closed her eyes, there was no telling how long this moment would last, Ghostface could attack at any time, and anyone could be lost in a moment.

Tara knew things weren’t completely back to normal with the two of you. The two of you talked but she still had a lot of work to do. She couldn’t just promise you she’d be better, she had to actually do it, she had to show you that she could be better. The first step would be surviving this new psycho. Then, when the two of you made it out of this, she would work every day to be the best girlfriend possible.

Finally, several minutes after you fell asleep Tara found herself drifting off. She tightened her grip around you, holding onto as tight as she could as if she were afraid, you’d slip away. Tara didn’t realize how long it had been since the two of you just laid together like this. You always slept next to each other and cuddled, but it had been a long time since either of you had been at ease like you currently were. Tara fell back into a comfort she didn’t know she had been missing, despite the current circumstances, Tara was somehow the most at ease she had been since last year.

Taglist: @mamas-evil-hag @thatshyboy1998 @btay3115 @idontliketoread2137 @nwestra

@honorarysimp @canyonyodeler @chxrry-lov3 @aceofspades190 @worstendingever

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter imagine #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #scream #scream 6 #scream vi

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asneakyfox · 5 hours ago

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if i'm reading you right, you're pointing out four reasons the scenes aren't the same:

ed doesn't choke izzy in the exact same way

the lighthouses don't look like the same lighthouse

the blocking for the two scenes is mirrored rather than identical, with ed on the left side in the izzy scene and on the right side in the scene with his dad

the lighthouse symbolizes stede, and stede isn't important to the first scene

i have to say the first three honestly strike me as entirely irrelevant. i would not generally expect tv to indicate that two scenes are similar by making them as close to literally identical as you're suggesting, although there's exceptions like a situation where it's meant as a very overt comedy beat. you could also point out other differences, like the fact that one takes place on a sunny day and the other on a rainy night, or that one is set in a cabin on a ship and the other outdoors on land, or that if you look closely con o'neill and damien gerard are technically two different guys. if the show could only indicate parallels between two scenes by making the second scene an exact beat-for-beat shot-for-shot recreation of the first it would rapidly become extremely boring. you could just as well argue that if the 2x05 moonlight scene had been intended as a parallel to the one from 1x05 they would have made the moon full instead of gibbous, and since they didn't do that it must mean all the similarities that are present are just coincidence. (that's a scene that is making its parallels unusually on-the-nose for cutsey romcom reasons and there's still major differences!)

#4 is puzzling to me because you've answered it yourself - the show has never treated lighthouses as a symbol of just one thing, we are told explicitly that it means multiple things, both a guide and a warning. and if a warning is what it means in the patricide scene then very obviously that's at least part of what it means in the izzy scene! that scene is very overtly the start of ed going down a path we don't want him to take, he's about to crack up on the rocks!

in fact he's about to crack up on the same rocks, which is kind of the whole point of this. like the real meat of the parallel here would be there even without any visual reinforcement - the only reason we're talking about the visuals is that they're what make it clear the creators were conscious of the parallel and considered it an important thing to reinforce. the heart of it is in both scenes:

ed is dealing with an angry older white man who is a significant part of his life, who has been threatening to both ed himself and other people ed loves (and, if you include the cut lines from his dad, both men have been trying to pressure ed himself to perform masculinity in specific ways). after putting up with it for a long time, ed is pushed too far and reacts with defensive physical violence. although he succeeds in the immediate act of self-defense, the scene leaves ed traumatized, believing that his own act of violence proves he is an unlovable monster.

there are also some significant differences between the two scenarios, like the fact that izzy is doing all this on purpose, while there's no suggestion that ed's dad intended to provoke his son to violence. the presence of those differences don't change the core parallel though. the scenes are variations on the same theme, and the variation does matter, but the theme is consistent.

this is central to ed's character arc. it's the center of ed's character arc in season 1, the thing it pivots on. the reason ed becomes the kraken is because the scene with izzy triggered the exact same trauma he's carried from the act that defined his childhood, that's the throughline. if the two scenes weren't striking the same trauma then ed wouldn't react the way he does to the second one.

(that didn't have to mean q.e.d. izzy is ed's father figure for all time and that had to be the main theme of their relationship. it just means there's one scene in which izzy played a role that paralleled ed's dad - but it's a pretty important scene. the show could have played that as a thing that happened only once. but it still would have happened, it would have been something that was there at least in one pivotal scene whether or not they chose to expand on the theme in s2.)

anyway back to what lighthouses symbolize. i would suggest that while the lighthouse definitely signifies a warning signal in both scenes, it's an entirely plausible read that it symbolizes stede in both scenes in addition to that. this show is a romance, and it's the kind of romance where people turn into hallucinatory mermaids and call their lovers back from the land of the dead. it is not at all surprising to me that in a scene set long before ed and stede meet, there would be a symbolic reminder that even in this darkest moment of ed's life the love of his life was already out there waiting for him, warning him away from the path he was on, calling him back to land. that kind of soulmate stuff, portraying the two lovers' stories as having been intertwined before they ever met, that's totally in-genre here.

finally i did say i thought points 1-3 were irrelevant, so i don't think this matters, but i want to point out that #3 is also not quite right; you've got the wrong flashback there. as you noted earlier, we see two versions of ed's father's death, and no lighthouse is visible in the "real" one, because the camera is always facing either inland or down. (the fact that the lighthouse is only clearly even there in ed's imagination probably says something interesting about the symbolism - there might not be a lighthouse at all in the real scene, it's unclear in that version if the flashing could be just lightning - but that's kind of outside the scope of this.) if you positioned the camera behind them facing the sea, so that the lighthouse (if it exists) were in frame like it is in the other scene, the way they're positioned would of course put ed on the left.

but the version of the scene where you do see the lighthouse is the one where ed is supposedly only present as a watcher; ed's actions in this scene are displaced onto the literal kraken, the kraken is symbolically replacing ed himself. you'll never guess which side of the screen the kraken is on.

ed's dad is even positioned here directly in front of the lighthouse, blocking our (and young ed's) view of it, like you pointed out that izzy walks forward into the center of the frame to block our view of the painting, while ed is still positioned on the left.

like i said i don't think the blocking is an element that needs to be exactly the same for the scenes to work as parallels, so personally i wouldn't count this as a particularly important part of the whole visual parallel situation. but if you're concerned about it, that's something there.

So I’m up to episode 10 of my most recent rewatch and I noticed something interesting in the scene where Izzy confronts Ed. At the beginning of the conversation the camera tends to stay with Ed in the left side of the frame and Izzy on the right, with the space between them in center. We do get some shots of just Ed where he’s in center (not included) but any shots that focus on Izzy still keep Ed in the frame with Izzy staying right of center.

So I am not a cinematographer by any stretch, but this seems all pretty straight forward to me? Like, we’ve got these two people having an argument so we’re showing them on literal opposite sides, and our shots are biasing toward whoever is speaking at the moment, but with an overall bias toward Ed, who we’re supposed to sympathize with.

But where it gets interesting is when Izzy makes his namby-pamby comment, and Ed pushes Izzy up against the wall. Izzy is still right of center, but take a closer look at what is now in the center of the frame.

The lighthouse painting. The lighthouse which represents both Stede and Stede & Ed together. In this moment while Ed briefly appears to have control of the conversation, this painting representing many of the things Ed wants and wants to be is prominently in the shot even while we’re supposed to be focused on Izzy. And as an added bonus just as Ed is consistently on the left side of the frame in this argument, the lighthouse is on the left side of the painting.

But then Izzy takes back control over the conversation. He reaches out and strokes Ed’s face, causing Ed to jerk back and let go of Izzy.

Izzy takes advantage of this to step closer to Ed, bringing him to center frame.

And even then he continues to get closer and closer.

And as Izzy whispers his threat to Ed we’re left with this: Izzy filling the center of the frame, with Ed only barely visible at the very edge, and the lighthouse missing from the painting, completely blocked out by Izzy.

#ofmd meta

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nameless-jamie · 2 days ago

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I LOVE RED CARD!!! I'm hoping it can became a mini series inside a series 🥰🥰🥰 Can you write a continuation to the 1st part where Jamie finds put what Rupert said or maybe he overhears something he said about the PA and his recation? Sorry, I know it's not very specific 😅

Drabble - Retaliation (Red Card)

Read RED CARD first to understand!

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, angry Jamie

A/N: Hiii I'm not really sure it has potential to become a mini series but I wrote the situation in which Jamie finds out what Rupert specifically said to Y/N and how he reacts. I hope you like it anyway. Time-wise it happens directly after Red Card.

Flashback to Red Card:

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

...

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

...

Jamie had never been more turned on in his life.

It was bad. Really bad.

He was supposed to be the reckless one, the hothead, the one who got in trouble for letting his emotions get the better of him. But Y/N? His PA? The one who always rolled her eyes at him when he got mouthy on the pitch, who reminded him to “think before he acts” at least once a week?

Yeah. She had just gotten a red card.

And not just any red card. She had squared up to Rupert Mannion, called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man before getting ejected from the stadium.

Yup, they cleared it up, they talked it out, she cared about him. Jamie had talked to her in the locker room after the game and now it was time to go home. He was driving his little crazy assistant and they were walking to the parking lot.

“You,” he said, slow and deliberate, “are insane for that today.”

She groaned. “Jamie—”

“In a good way,” he clarified. “In a sexy way.”

She gaped at him. “That is not the point right now.”

“Yeah, well, I’m still processing,” Jamie said. “’Cause last I checked, I’m the one who does the dumb shit. Not you.”

Y/N huffed, dragging a hand through her hair. “It wasn’t dumb. It was warranted.”

Jamie narrowed his eyes. “What did he say anyway?”

She hesitated.

Jamie stepped closer. “What did he say, Y/N?”

Y/N exhaled, looking away. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

She shook her head. “Jamie—”

“Tell me.”

Her jaw clenched. Then, finally, she sighed. "He said: What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed? Then he said something about our relationship being a little inappropriate and some misogynistic comments followed, then I lashed out..."

amie’s vision blurred with rage.

“Jamie—”

He was already turning.

“Jamie.”

Her hands grabbed his arm before he could storm back into the stadium. He whirled back to her, jaw tight.

“I’ll kill him.”

“You won’t.”

Jamie scoffed. “You think I won’t?”

“I know you won’t,” she shot back. “Because if you do, I’ll have to bail you out of jail, and I’ve had enough trouble for one night.”

Jamie clenched his fists. “He doesn’t get to talk about you like that.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I handled it.”

Jamie turned, looking down at her. “You shouldn’t have had to hear that,” he said, voice low. “Shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

Jamie’s eyes flickered over her face, still hard with frustration.

She sighed. “Look, I appreciate the protectiveness, but you starting a fight with Rupert isn’t gonna change anything.”

Jamie tilted his head. “Yeah, but it’d make me feel a whole lot better.”

He exhaled again, calming himself. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

Her gaze softened. “Yeah, I did.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “So… you called him a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man?"

Her lips twitched. “Among other things.”

“Fuckin’ hell, love.” Jamie let out a low whistle. “I think I might be in love with you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “Shut up.”

Jamie grinned. “Nah, but seriously—next time, at least let me get in a punch first, yeah?”

She sighed. “You’re impossible. Let it go, Jamie.”

Jamie sighed too. "Fuck, I'll try, will you come home with me, maybe watch a movie and chill. I need some company right now..."

"Always."

Jamie didn’t let it go.

Of course, he didn’t.

Y/N knew him well enough to expect it—the moment Jamie Tartt got something stuck in his head, there was no talking him out of it. And apparently, Rupert Mannion being a misogynistic prick about her was something Jamie was more than willing to go to war over.

She caught him that evening, leaning on his kitchen counter, phone in hand, eyes narrowed at the screen.

“Jamie.”

He didn’t look up. “One sec.”

“No, not one sec,” she said, snatching the phone from his grasp before he could react. She glanced at the screen. He’d been typing—no, retyping—a text to someone.

“Who’s this to?” she asked, scrolling up.

“Don’t—” Jamie made a grab for it, but she dodged, stepping out of reach. “Oi! Give it back, you little thief—”

Her eyes scanned the unsent message.

From Jamie Tartt: If I ever hear you talk about her like that again, I swear to fuck—

She scrolled further.

Jamie Tartt: I don’t care how much money you’ve got, you’re still a sad little man

Jamie Tartt: Watch your fucking mouth, old man.

Y/N sighed, locking the screen and shoving the phone into her back pocket. “Jesus, Jamie.”

“What?” He threw his hands up. “Bloke’s a twat. He deserves it.”

“I know that,” she said, exasperated. “But sending him angry texts isn’t gonna do shit except make you look unhinged.”

Jamie scoffed. “Unhinged? I’ll show you unhinged, love. I was about ten seconds away from driving to West Ham’s training ground and dealing with him properly.”

She stared at him. “You mean fighting him?”

Jamie lifted a shoulder. “Not fight fight. Just… you know.” He made a vague punching motion. “Maybe a little slap. He’s old, innit? Wouldn’t take much.”

Y/N groaned, rubbing her temples. “You’re impossible.”

Jamie huffed. “I should’ve done something. Back when he said it. Should’ve knocked him on his arse right there.”

She looked up at him then, properly looked. Jamie wasn’t just pissed—he was guilty.

“Jamie,” she said, softer now. “You did do something. You supported me."

“Yeah, but I didn’t even know what he said.” His jaw tensed. “If I had—”

“You’d be serving a five-game, by now.” she finished.

Jamie exhaled sharply. “It weren’t even about football. He was just bein’ a prick, just tryna put you down ‘cause you’re—”

He cut himself off.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Because I’m what?”

Jamie swallowed. “Because you’re you.”

Something passed between them. Something unspoken but heavy.

Jamie shifted, glancing away, scuffing his boot against the floor. “Look, all I’m sayin’ is—if he ever talks about you like that again, I will do something about it. Don’t care if I get fined, don’t care if I get benched. Just so we’re clear.”

Y/N bit her lip. “You really would fight him, wouldn’t you?”

Jamie met her gaze. “Yeah.” His voice was quiet. “Yeah, I would. As far as we know you would too, love.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that.

So instead, she reached into her pocket, pulled out his phone, and handed it back.

“No more angry texts.”

Jamie sighed, stuffing the phone into his hoodie. “Fine.”

“Good.”

A beat.

Then Jamie smirked. “I’ll just send him a really sarcastic fruit basket instead.”

Y/N groaned. “Jamie.”

“Oi, that’s classy retaliation, that is.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Come on, dumbass. I’ll buy you dinner before you come up with any more terrible ideas.”

Jamie grinned. “You are my favorite, y’know that?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, shoving him playfully. “You better start behaving, or I might switch teams.”

Jamie’s smirk faltered for a split second.

Then, before she could register it, he was grabbing her wrist, tugging her just slightly closer, his voice dropping.

“Not funny, love.”

Y/N blinked.

Jamie held her gaze, a flicker of something serious in his expression. But before she could say anything, he let go, stepping back with an easy grin.

“Right,” he said, stretching. “What we havin’ for dinner?”

Y/N exhaled, pushing away whatever that moment was. “Anything except fruit baskets.”

Jamie chuckled. “Shame. Would’ve been a great fruit basket.”

As they walked out together, Y/N knew one thing for sure:

Rupert Mannion may have been a smug bastard—

But Jamie Tartt?

He was a dangerous one.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #ted lasso show #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #afc richmond #jamie tartt imagine #roy kent #sam obisanya #PA x Jamie Tartt

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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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Hellooo!! An idea suddenly, so I was wondering if you could do it (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

It's about a singer reader, basically the reader is someone who doesn't interact enough with other artists (example: Robin) therefore he has never done a collaboration with another singer, although this doesn't seem to matter that much to the reader. While his fans also don't care that the reader doesn't have a collaboration with another singer yet.

One day a fan noticed that the reader subtly brought his wrist closer to his face, the fan commented on this fact which made the other fans notice this fact as well, at first the reader doesn't say anything. But upon returning from a tour he takes refuge with his partner (basically hugs him) and doesn't separate from him, Aventurine smells a familiar smell coming from the reader, asking him about it the reader mentions that he bought Aventurine's cologne at some point because he missed him. This is based on an alternate universe of Alien Stage from tiktok and a comic by ivantill (⁠＾⁠∇⁠＾⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♪

-💤🩵 anon

The Smell of You

Summary: After a successful yet exhausting tour, you return home, seeking refuge in the comforting embrace of your partner, Aventurine. During the tour, fans noticed a subtle gesture where you brought your wrist close to your face, unknowingly drawing attention. The act was a small, quiet way of holding onto the scent of Aventurine, which you had started wearing his cologne to feel closer to him while on the road. Upon returning home, your unspoken emotions come to light as Aventurine notices the familiar scent, and the two of you share a moment of connection and intimacy.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Subtle Romance, Emotional Vulnerability, Affection, Subtle Gestures, Established Relationship, Light Angst, Healing Together.

A/N: NOOOO IVANTILL!!! 😭😭😭☹️☹️☹️💔💔💔

The tour had taken its toll on you. Days on the road, constant performances, and the ever-present pressure of your career had left you drained. Yet, you found solace in the little things—the familiar smell of Aventurine’s cologne, the touch of his hand when you’d return home, and the warmth of his presence that you’d come to crave.

This tour had been different though. While your fans continued to support you with unwavering loyalty, a small part of you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. You hadn’t collaborated with another artist before. Many had speculated about your reasons, but for you, it wasn’t a matter of isolation—it was more about being content in your own space. You didn’t feel the need to prove anything to anyone, and your fans seemed to appreciate that. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

But today, as you stood on stage during your final concert, something caught your eye. One of your fans in the front row, a young woman, was staring intently at your wrist, a small smile on her face. You subtly brought your wrist closer to your face to adjust your sleeve, just a tiny gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed. The fan quickly typed something into her phone and raised it high, showing a tweet to her friends. It wasn’t long before others caught on.

You could hear their whispers from the stage, murmurs spreading like wildfire among the crowd. Something had shifted. Your wrist—a simple movement, nothing extraordinary—was being noticed. It wasn’t the first time fans had speculated on your gestures, but today, it felt different.

Your heart sank a little. You had no idea why you did it. It wasn’t conscious, but it had become a small act of comfort for you. You’d taken to bringing your wrist close to your face whenever you missed him. Whenever you missed Aventurine.

You didn’t want to make it a big deal, though. The concert went on, and you performed like you always did—calm, composed, unbothered—but you couldn't escape the nagging feeling that something had shifted.

By the time you returned from the tour, exhaustion had taken hold of you, and all you wanted was to find peace. You didn’t bother with much else—just your partner, Aventurine. His presence was a balm to your worn-out soul.

As you walked into the apartment, your body felt heavy with fatigue, but as soon as you saw him, something in you lightened. You wasted no time, walking straight into his arms, seeking refuge in the safe haven he always provided. His familiar scent, rich with the earthy tones of his cologne, mixed with the comforting warmth of his embrace. You melted into him, not wanting to let go.

Aventurine didn’t say anything at first, but his sharp senses didn’t miss a beat. He gently pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze piercing yet soft.

“Did you... buy my cologne?” he asked, his voice low and almost... amused.

You froze, guilt surging through you, even though you hadn't done anything wrong. You hesitated, not wanting to admit it, but eventually, you couldn't lie to him.

“I... I missed you,” you murmured, your words barely a whisper. “I bought it when I was on tour. It reminded me of you.”

Aventurine’s smile, always enigmatic, softened at the edges, his usual facade of playful bravado dropping for just a moment. He pressed his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, his arms tightening around you.

"You know," he said after a pause, his voice softer than usual, "you never need a reason to miss me." His tone held the usual arrogance, but it was tinged with something more—something unspoken, something that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the weight of the world lift from your shoulders. There was no need for words between you two; there was only comfort in the shared silence and the soft, familiar scent that lingered in the air.

Outside, the world may have noticed your subtle gesture, but here, in this moment, there was only Aventurine and you. No fans, no questions—just the warmth of his arms and the quiet understanding that no matter what the world expected of you, you had found a way to make it your own.

#x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #fluff #comfort #subtle romance #emotional vulnerability #affection #subtle gestures #established relationship #light angst #healing together

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strawberryblue-blog · 2 days ago

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PABLO GAVI fluff were he comfort the reader after their big argument please love your works 💫

Thanks💓

Our home —Pablo Gavi.

summary: request.

warnings: none. a little of angst, fight, discomfort, cute, soft, clingy.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: Happy Valentine's Day 💌 Enjoy it, love you 🎀

The sound of your snort clashing with the overwhelming silence in the living room, interrupting the tranquility of the night. You're standing by the kitchen, hands on your hips and frowning as you stare at the pile of dirty utensils you haven't stopped noticing since you got home. Gavi, he doesn't even look at you. He's sitting on the couch, remote in hand and TV on, seemingly oblivious to your frustration.

"Really?" you ask aloud, turning to him with your arms crossed. "How many times have we talked about this?"

He looks up turning to look at you, surprised, but quickly his expression changes to a mixture of tired and defensive.

"I will do it later" he says nonchalantly as he resumes playing again.

"Yeah, like always" you mutter starting to pick things up. You shake your head as you turn on the water.

"I'll always end up doing it myself anyway" you whisper angrily.

"What are you talking about now?" he replies, setting the controller down on the table and turning to you again.

You ignore him, starting to wash the dishes in the sink. You don't answer because you know it will be in anger, you'd rather shut up again.

"Are you saying I never do?" his voice sounds closer and you can feel his presence.

Making him get up from the couch when he's playing video games is a reward for you.

"That then you don't do shit" you spit loud and clear. "You always say the same thing about the dishes, the laundry, everything you always leave lying around" you reply, pointing to the sink with an exaggerated gesture.

"That's not true" he shriek angrily. "I said I would do it later..."

"When were you going to do it, huh?" you ask interrupting him. "After I do it? Tomorrow when you finish training? When?" you shout.

Gavi frowns but you can see his features look angry. But angrier are you. You're not overreacting. These last months living together has become difficult, you fight constantly, Gavi doesn't help you enough and you understand that he's tired after training or whatever, but you also have your job and that's not why you leave everything like that.

This morning you had left with all the mess, dishes from last night, clothes on the floor next to the washing machine, garbage cans full and when you came back, everything was still the same. And Gavi had the day off today. You expected at least the simple, basic housekeeping. You didn't expect him to deep clean, just tidy up. But he'd clearly spent the day playing videogames.

"I can't handle this, you know? I work all day, I come in exhausted, and the last thing I want is to see the house a mess because you can't do your part."

"My part?" he retorts, stepping closer and facing you with open arms. "And what do you think I do all day? I'm not just sitting around doing nothing. I'm also exhausted when I get home."

"But I'm always the one who has to take care of everything," you say, feeling frustration rise from your chest to your throat. "The dishes, the laundry, the cleaning? When was the last time you even tried to pick anything up?"

He rolls his eyes and that gesture fires you up even more.

"Don't exaggerate the situation. It's not like I never do anything. I may not be as obsessive as you, but that doesn't mean I don't help," he says pointing at you.

Oh no. He didn't just call you that. He didn't just make everything worse.

"Obsessive?" you repeat, in disbelief. The word hits you like a slap in the face. "It's not obsessive, it's wanting our home to be a place where we can be comfortable, where I don't feel like I'm living on a battlefield." It comes out as an angry scream.

You can't believe it. Now you are the obsessive and exaggerated one who wants some basic order in your own home.

"It's not like that!" he replies, raising his voice. His tone is defensive, but also weary. "Just because I don't do things exactly the way you want me to, doesn't mean I'm doing everything wrong."

"It's not about doing it 'my way'!" you shout, feeling on the verge of tears. "It's about the fact that I can't handle everything by myself. I'm exhausted, and you don't seem to care."

That shushes him. Gavi turns his head in denial but you turn to continue washing through your eyes fill with tears. All that screaming, the desperation, the anger, it makes you feel bad. You've had a rough patch for a while now and you're afraid this could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. But you are so tired. You just want to finish and go to sleep. Arguments won't get you anywhere but you're exhausted from the same situation.

The atmosphere in the room is tense, charged with unspoken words and pent-up emotions. You don't want to cry because you don't want to look weak but you feel so fragile that if he says anything else, you will cry.

Finally, he sighs and takes a step towards you. You feel him coming closer but you won't move, you just want to finish.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he says, his voice softer this time. "I care a lot, more than you think."

Just then you finish rinsing and deposit everything in the dryer. You take off your gloves and dry the counter, leaving everything clean and ready.

"Then prove it" you reply, with a lump in your throat, as you turn around. "Because when I come home and see all this, I feel like you don't care about our home or the effort I make or even us."

You try to walk towards the room but he stops you, processing your words. He's still angry about the argument, you can see it in the way his brow furrows but you can't go on like this.

"If you cared, you would. I get it once or twice, Pablo. But not for months now, it's pure cohabitation, I'm not trying to force you into anything or ask you to be my maid" you spit out harshly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "And I won't be your fucking maid either"

You release yourself from his grip and move for your room, looking for some quiet. Your bed seems to be waiting for you the moment you open the door and you quickly strip off your clothes, dressing in your pajamas. You just want to sleep. You crawl into bed and turn your back to Gavi's side, covering yourself with your warm blanket. Tears slide down your cheeks as you think about the argument, how vulnerable you are right now. You're scared, maybe moving in with Gavi was a hasty move and you've been thinking about it for weeks.

You love him. You love everything about him but you can't stand that your relationship is turning into what you hate the most. Maybe you are pushing him a little bit but he lives here too, each of you have your obligations and responsibilities and the only way to survive is to work together.

You're not so angry about the argument, you're helpless. Lonely and scared, what if he doesn't want to be with you anymore, what if Gavi is only acting this way because you are broken? The sobs come out of your mouth and you try to cover them but it's unavoidable.

A faint noise makes you swallow a sob and when you feel the mattress sink behind you, you cover your face with the whole sheet. Gavi comes up from behind and embraces you slowly, carefully, waiting for your rejection or acceptance. You say nothing, just melt into the warmth of his arms embracing you, as you sigh calming your little fit.

"You're right" he admits, with a deep sigh. His voice sounds weak, slowly. "I've been relaxing too much, trusting you to do it because you always do. That's not right and I'm really sorry" his words make your heart shrink.

You didn't want to make him feel that way, you didn't want him to be angry, maybe things got out of place all because of your bad reaction.

"It's not true what I said, you're not exaggerating, you're not obsessive" he murmurs hurt as his hand runs down your body, caressing you. "I care about you, about our home and I care about our relationship" he whispers close to your ear, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

Your heart softens a little at his words, but you still feel the weight of everything built up in your chest. You barely nod. You know he didn't have a bad intention and maybe it was you who took it to another dimension but you really wanted Paul to understand.

"I haven't been around much these days and I understand your approach, Y/n" he whispers again.

Your nose rubs the drops of tears and you sigh searching for air. Su cálido cuerpo comienza a calentar te y solo quieres saltar a sus brazos, como siempre lo deseas.

"Forgive me, okay? Please?" he asks in his hoarse, weak voice.

You turn barely, pulling your body out of the fabrics until you see him clearly.

"It's not just about the dishes or the clothes, Pablo" you confess as tears begin to escape your eyes. "It's because I want this to be a home, our home. A place where we can both be at peace"

"I understand" he says, looking you straight in the eye. "And you're absolutely right. I don't want you to feel like you're carrying everything by yourself. I promise I'm going to get better, I really am"

His hands take your face as you turn to him fully. He takes it upon himself to wipe away your tears, one by one, as he pulls you into his warm chest. Your heart aches for everything but you feel more relieved now.

"I'm sorry for exploding like this too" you admit hurt. "I just want everything to work out, that we don't have to argue about these things. And I thought that..."

Pablo looks at you seriously, confused.

"I thought things between us were breaking up, that maybe your pulling away was my fault and I exploded" you confess as the tears come again.

His eyes hold back the tears as his fingers tighten on your face.

"I would never do anything like that, nothing changed between us, I promise. It's just me, being kind of lazy" he says trying to blame homself but you deny.

"I'm sorry, Gavi" you cry exhausted. "I didn't mean to fight with you like this, just.... I'm tired..."

Your body hurts, your mind does too. Maybe you need more sleep than a day is enough and all this anxiety, nervousness, is driving you crazy.

"You are my home, you are my whole life, I just want to be here, for the rest of my life, with you" he says in front of your eyes.

"You are mine, Pablo" you assure with a laugh.

He smiles slightly and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"Let's promise something" he says, whispering against your hair. "Let's talk before things get to this point. If something bothers you, tell me, and I'll do the same"

You nod against his chest, feeling relieved to hear those words.

"I promise" you reply, clinging to him tightly.

His arms come around you again and you feel yourself melt under his touch. Gavi is soft, gentle and sweet. And you love that.

"And I promise I'll always wash the dishes from now on" he adds, with a touch of humor in his voice that manages to get a small chuckle out of you in spite of everything.

You both stay like that, hugging, letting the tensions dissipate. You know you still have room for improvement but you also know that, as long as you are willing to work together, nothing can affect what you have.

The silence in the room lingers as you are cuddled together. He watches you from above, his fingers stroking your back, your arms, your chest. He leaves little patterns on your skin, running over every nook and cranny of your body. You smile. He smiles back. The two of you look at each other and touch again. It is inevitable.

Your body is on top of his, one of his legs is wrapped around you and your hands rest on his firm chest, caressing his pecs. You talk for a while, then kiss, then just lie there. Pablo keeps running his warm hands up and down your arms, resting occasionally on your hip as he kisses your forehead or hair, then back up your back slowly. If touch burns on your skin, but it's the kind of fire that feeds the flame in your heart.

Then you apologize again, talk, joke and kiss again, in a loop. It's warm, perfect and beautiful. You two love and understand each other, yes, you argue but it keeps you stronger than ever, just like right now.

One of his hands goes into your hair, the other resists on your lower back, massages your scalp while your fingers move on his chest. That starts to make you sleepy, you close your eyes but you don't want to stop seeing Gavi, so you open them again.

He spots you and laughs. You lift your head and his eyes are waiting for you, loving, watching you.

"You can rest, baby" he whispers, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

"See you tomorrow, Pablo" you whisper barely.

"Good night, baby" he kisses your forehead again affectionately.

You settle into his chest again, letting the sound of his heart soothe you. His other hand continues to stroke your hair, and you can feel how his caresses are slow and full of affection, as if he wants to make up for everything he has made you feel. His fingers press your skin to your waist and you feel filled with his love.

And in that moment, even though you know you still have things to work out, you feel that everything will be okay. Because you are together.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi

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tucsonhorse · 3 days ago

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@notenderlaith has good points here about considering inequality, the effect it would have on the land and most marginalized people, and where the resources would come from. These are all very important factors that must be considered and weighed.

As someone who lives in the middle part of the country where we're too far to benefit from sea commerce, too vital resource lacking to claim our own industry, and whose town in fact was a boom town when the railroads were built, I say the rest is patronizing bullshit. Let me cover some of the specific points here. (This is not intended to be condescending, this is the easiest way for me to organize my thoughts and a bit sarcastic because the tone I got from your post feels extremely paternalistic to me)

"Most parts of the US are livable from the land itself when it is taken care of". This is true, especially with trading with neighbors. It also ignores the need/desire for material goods that are unavailable and cannot be created in all locations. Do you like cotton clothes? You better live in the south cause without long distance trade you won't be able to have them. Do you enjoy things constructed of wood? Better not live on the great plains cause there's very little wood there, definitely not enough to support the needs of a full community. Need healthcare? Better hope it's only basic stuff cause individual towns aren't going to have enough call for specialists for it to be worth training any.

Oh, but you say that people could still travel between places? You're right, but if we rely on cars and individual transport alone that's going to continue being extremely harmful to the environment. And you mention the concern for Indigenous people, the poor and others. It's good you're concerned, because they're the ones who are going to have the most trouble traveling between places by car alone. The people who use our current passenger train options, at least out here in the empty middle of the country, are the poorest among us. Because train travel is far more affordable for them.

"ultimately the whole reason those trains exist is the reason the poor communities exist in the first place. Greed." So you're saying that isolated, poor communities in the middle of the country didn't exist before the railroad? You're going to want to learn about the history of these places because for one the Indigenous people already lived out here (and the ones I know rather like having inexpensive and easy transport to other places when they want to go there) and for another, people wanted the land and the freedom promised. Not everyone wants to live in a city, and a whole lot of people lived in the center of the country before the railroads and were poor then too, not because someone was greedily keeping things from them but because it's just plain difficult to get things across that long a distance any way but railroads. So if the people living here, especially the poor people as you point out, want access to anything that cannot be made right in their town it's going to have to be transported long distance over land.

"America got out of the great depression through infrastructure building..." No, America got out of the great depression through WW2 and the massive changes it caused.

"reworking the rail system would be a further driving force of capitalistic greed" The thing is that the rail system as it is right now is *great* for the capitalists. It is constantly moving huge amounts of freight, especially fossil fuels like oil and coal, and doing it really damn well. Reworking the rail system to make it both more useful for passenger rail and primarily passenger rail would actually counteract that. Passenger rail is not lucrative. If it were there are lots of companies that would jump right on to developing it further. It is something that only makes sense as a project done for the good of the people at large.

What it comes down to is that you can say "we should" all you want, but our communities becoming more self sufficient is not going to happen easily and even if it does happen it won't be anywhere near soon enough to stem the damage being done by fossil fuels. And remember that "self sufficiency" is itself a very colonialist mindset.

Improving the current rail system to make it better for passenger rail, and yes expanding it, would be far less damaging than continuing to use gas powered cars to move people (and goods) through and to those same areas. You're right that the expansion would create jobs immediately, it would also create significant physical mobility for people. And people aren't going to just stop wanting that even if individual communities were to become perfectly self sufficient over night.

Your comments suggest to me that you likely live in a city, though I do not claim to know this for sure. Creating self sufficient communities would require significant changes in what labor is being done, primarily requiring many more farmers, which will likely be difficult seeing as the current number of farmers is rapidly dwindling because children don't want to take over and their parents are unable to farm any more. It also means a significant change in what food people eat and how we store it. If anyone in the north wants any fruit or vegetables, really any produce, from November (some years October) to maybe June those have to be imported from warmer climes or preserved from the previous growing season. The physical distribution of people would also need to be significantly altered in order to add people to the small towns that have as few as 5 (there's even some with just 1 but at that point I wouldn't even call it a town) up to 50-100 people and significantly decrease the size of cities. Small towns will need far more people in order to complete just the basic tasks required to feed and clothe the town year round, and cities wouldn't have nearly enough land within easy travel distance to support all the people living there.

All of these changes can probably be made, *if* millions of people can be convinced that they need to be made and the logistics are somehow coordinated. But in the meantime goods and people will need to be moved, which would be more energy efficient and eco friendly if done by train.

I don't have a problem with anarchist philosophy, though I do think it ignores some basic realities, and I am very definitely anti-capitalist. I also am very aware of the reality we live in and just how slowly any societal level change will happen. I do not think that people will ever be willing en masse to go back to living as "simple farmers" and I know that the current lifestyle of your average US resident cannot be maintained in self sufficient communities. So we need to focus on making the current lifestyle less toxic and harmful to ourselves and the earth, rather than refusing to accept any option that is not the perfect ideal of the end result we want, because if we will accept only perfect then we will never change from where we are now.

yankee train posters be like "we should electrify [network that specifically exists to transport the largest amount of imperial loot inland]". deeply concerning

Do you want to rip out every rail line on the North American continent, you do realize how damaging that would be for the environment, if the infrastructure already exists, we should use and improve it

#just because something was created in pursuit of profit doesn't mean that's all it's good for

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flawseer · 7 hours ago

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Hey Flawseer, love your art. I wanted to ask if you have any headcanons for some of the supporting characters who aren't really tied to the school, like Chameleon, Icicle, Hailstorm, etc.

Headcanons for specifically those characters? Hm...

This isn't really a headcanon, more of a "this is implied but not outright stated" kind of thing, but Chameleon's childhood was the stuff of nightmares. He hatched with a physical deformity that prevented him from sleeping more than an hour at a time. Think about what that would be like, to never be able to rest, to be tired and exhausted every day.

Child Chameleon is also an interesting window into the darker aspects of Rainwing society. The books often portray their society as idyllic, something pure and optimistic, something to aspire to. But then they had this kid who was suffering in his body, who didn't develop the expected Rainwing traits properly, and they shunned him. Even sweet, lovable, couldn't-hurt-anyone Jambu calls him weird and off-putting for not being able to change colors. We don't know why Chameleon ended up exiled; maybe it was a malicious act or maybe Chameleon lashed out and had to be removed for being dangerous. But it definitely makes you wonder if there are any other skeletons in the Rainwings' closet.

None of this excuses any of the stunts he pulled later as an adult, especially not the emotional manipulation of his daughter. But thinking about his crappy childhood may help you understand how he ended up the way he did. I hope he can find some help.

Here's a picture of him I drew once. He probably has an official design by now, I don't know.

As for headcanons about Chameleon... I think he eats meat. His biology isn't really wired for it, so it tastes absolutely disgusting to him. But he does it anyway, because while he hates the taste of meat so much, he hates the idea of being a Rainwing several times more. So he puts up with it because he knows it is the least Rainwing-like thing you can do. In a strange way, it helps him cope.

For Icicle, I think it is interesting to note that we technically never see her under normal circumstances. She appears in Jade Mountain in book 6 and certainly leaves an impression, but it's easy to forget that everything she does, she does with the awareness that Scarlet currently has a proverbial knife to her brother's throat. Thus, we never get to see what present day Icicle is like when she is able to relax.

Headcanons... The books aren't clear on how or when Scarlet made first contact with her. It could have been in school, as Moonwatcher overhears. Personally, I think Scarlet actually contacted Icicle months prior to the school opening, and instructed Icicle to insert herself as a sleeper agent. I have trouble believing that immaculate Icicle would WANT to be cooped up underground in a dirty cave with a bunch of strangers several miles from home. I think Scarlet made her do it, and she then begged Queen Glacier to send her there, knowing full well she was gonna hate it. Winter then overheard her begging and begged to come along too.

This lends weight to the scene where Icicle finally breaks down in front of Winter. The part where she's her authentic self for the first time, crying and begging Winter not to let her fall asleep so the woman who has been tormenting her inside her own head for months can't tell her that she failed and that her brother is dead.

In the end, her brother is alive. But in trying to get him free, Icicle ruined her own life.

This one might be controversial, I don't know. While I do think Icicle served in the war, and she did definitely kill Mudwings while doing so, I don't think Icicle is the one who killed Crane. Sora insists it was her, but Umber and Marsh do not recognize her, and Mudwing siblings usually fight together, so they would have both been present during her death too.

I think the story becomes more meaningful if the trauma of war just ruined Sora to such an extent that she sees her sister's killer in every somewhat outspoken female Icewing. Then she ran into the library and confirmation-biased herself into believing her hunch by reading unverified essays on Icewing genetics. You know, the same library whose references on Mudwing physiology consist entirely of The Slug-like Qualities of the Mudwings. If Wisemind penned an examination of Icewing physiology too, one can probably imagine how reliable that one would be.

This kind of turns Sora and Icicle into tragic parallels. They are both children born into a war that took their innocence from them, and in the end it ruined them both.

For Hailstorm, I believe after the battle of Jade Mountain ended and Winter got banished, Hailstorm went back to the Ice Kingdom and lived with his mother Tundra for a while. Tundra took the death of her mate very badly and became embittered. She blamed everything bad that happened to their family on Winter, insisted that Winter caused the family to rot. Winter killed the Queen, Winter killed Narwhal, Winter, Winter, Winter, she should have smashed his egg when she had the chance. Hailstorm tried to get her out of the house, to stop talking and thinking about Winter, but nothing worked. She just had her mind set on hating this kid she'd been abusing since his hatching, insisting she gave him the world and he was ungrateful.

Eventually, Hailstorm just couldn't take this constant bleakness and hatred anymore. A few months ago Icewing tradition almost made him kill his little brother and he is just done with the Ice Kingdom. Completely disillusioned. Leave it all behind.

So he goes to Winter, and he starts to ask odd questions, like "If you had never found a way to turn me back from being Pyrite, would you still have loved me", and "If I was a Skywing, would you disown me?" Winter assures him that he will always love him, but starts to get worried about the questions.

Eventually, Hailstorm just flat-out states that he was actually kind of happy with himself as a female Skywing, not having to think about their messed up family and the stupid rankings all the time. He kept thinking about it through their mother's ramblings, how he felt in that body. He's figured out that he wants to go back to being Pyrite, just obviously without the brainwash-y parts. Winter doesn't entirely understand, but wants his brother/sister to be happy, and gives him/her his blessing.

And I guess there you have it. Some of my headcanons. Chameleon the meat eater, the absolute train-wreck that is Icicle's life with a side of Sora, and Hailstorm finds self-affirmation in exploring their gender identity after cutting their toxic mom out of their life.

#flawseer reply #wof chameleon #wof icicle #wof hailstorm #long post #long winded

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utilitycaster · 1 day ago

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as someone who DMs in Exandria and tries to at least keep the happenings of the campaigns canon, i’ve been struggling to decide how i’m going to handle the ending of c3. if you had to decide what to scrap, what to keep, and what to change, what would you do?

Hi anon,

Honestly...at a macro level? In terms of Exandria (the worldstate, as a lot of us referred to it) I wouldn't change anything! If you're running a game during the 843 PD Apogee Solstice, have the characters be aware of its approach, and then have them notice the ley lines are weird and some magic isn't working and things have come unsealed or unenchanted. And then, eventually, have the gods become mortal, and really, you get to play the events of that as you want.

I think the parts I'd scrap, keep, or change are like...background lore that was inconsistent. For example: we do know from written works (Netherdeep, Tal'Dorei Reborn) that Ruidusborn experienced unfounded persecution...but as this doesn't square up with Fearne nor, frankly, Imogen's experience. Alyxian was taunted and threatened and people in rural Tal'Dorei would commit infanticide with full knowledge of what a Ruidusborn was, but Fearne and Imogen straight up were fine when wandering around Exandria and Imogen's experiences in Gelvaan were due to her powers, and neither of them even knew what Ruidusborn was. This isn't to be clear inconsistent - it could be that the rumors about Ruidusborn did not properly make it/survive in rural Marquet in the 800s PD the way they did in modern Tal'Dorei and Calamity-era Wildemount - but you should be cognizant of that difference across continents and take that in mind.

I also think, and this isn't Exandria lore nor specific to Exandria DM-ing but was a failure of this campaign, that this is a good opportunity to like, point out that when players riff and make things up about a fairly heavily built-out world that would conflict with your plans or just would be a weird fringe viewpoint, you should let them know. I've seen this done at tables I've been at - someone gave a very United States in the 21st century answer about their thoughts on the divine and the DM stopped and was like "so. we are in a world where gods are real and this would be a radical fringe view that people would, in this world, judge you for. Is that what your character thinks? because we can roll with that but people are going to think they're nuts." Like, the statements about oppressive religion in Exandria when none has ever been established and it's usually all been lone actors, fringe cults, or one-offs in C3 probably should have been either refuted or incorporated instead of just left to float there, unconfirmed and useless.

I think the shortest answer is "If your only source for information is out of the mouth of a Bells Hells character, try to find a different one and don't feel bad about scrapping it, but the overall state of the world should stand."

#cr tag #answered #anonymous

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fortytworedvines · 8 hours ago

Note

I'd love prompt 28 "There's a stain on your clothes" :)

Send me a prompt

28: There's a stain on your clothes

Siegfried is not enjoying his evening. Mrs Pumphrey’s ball is usually a highlight in the social calendar, and even with wartime restrictions, she has put on a fabulous do. But the ratios are out this evening. Fewer men, more women. More ferocious women, Siegfried thinks, hiding behind the curtains as another one stalks past.

He’s enjoyed escorting women round the dance floor in the past, has been perfectly happy as Mrs Pumphrey has sent woman after woman his way. But it’s different tonight. And part of it is that the women are looking at him like they want to eat him, hunger vivid in their eyes, and partly it’s because half his mind is at home, in the living room with his housekeeper, his feet up, a book in hand, listening to the click of her knitting needles.

When, he wonders, has he become so domesticated.

The curtain twitches and polished talons land on his arm. “There you are.” He’s dragged out into the open by another of the terrifying women. Her hair is blonde and perfectly coiffed, her face is made up nicely, her outfit is perfectly in-tune with the event. He wants to run away.

“Were you hiding?” she asks as she steers him onto the dance floor. He stumbles over his feet and manages to change their pace so that he is leading, at least. “We were talking earlier about the war effort,” she says, as she leans closer into him. He holds his arms stiffly and nods like he remembers.

She laughs, shrilly. “Oh, Mr Farnon. You are so funny!”

He isn’t.

She’s pushing closer to him again. How is she so strong?! Her lips are coming closer. He jerks away, and she stumbles in his arms and her face collides with his shirt. She catches herself on him, pulls herself upright and stares at him.

“I – beg your pardon,” he says, realising his behaviour could be construed as ungentlemanlike. “I – I’m afraid I’m feeling rather unwell. I must make my apologies.”

He turns and almost runs from the dancefloor, doesn’t stop to say goodbye to Mrs Pumphrey or Tricki, just hurtles past them as he heads for the door, for the Rover, for safety.

At home, he goes straight upstairs, pulls off his smart clothes and puts on his everyday trousers, a soft shirt, his favourite cardigan. Then he sighs. He finally feels better.

Downstairs in the living room, Mrs Hall has a cup of tea waiting for him, a bottle of whisky to doctor it with, if he likes.

“Good evening?” she asks, pausing in her knitting to look up at him. “You’re home earlier than I was expecting.”

He smiles down at her. She looks so perfect, sitting there, Jess curled up next to her. “It was fine,” he says. He doesn’t want to explain. Splashes some whisky into his tea and sits back with a sigh. “Thank you,” he murmurs.

She slips a smile at him. “You’re welcome.”

It’s laundry day. Mrs Hall is already hard at work when he comes downstairs. She’s scrubbing ferociously at his shirt. She glances up as he comes in but the usual fondness in her gaze is absent. “Breakfast is ready for you.”

“Thank you.” He looks up at her but she’s got her head down again, concentrating. “Is it that bad?” he asks tentatively. He can’t think what he could have done to his clothes to cause this. A ball at Mrs Pumphrey’s surely has nothing on a farm visit.

“There’s a stain on your clothes. Lipstick is hard to remove.” Her voice is clipped, and there’s an undertone of something that twists at his heart.

“Lipstick?”

“On your collar.” She thrusts it towards him. There is, indeed, a bright red smudge on his collar. He remembers the woman falling against him and almost laughs.

She turns her back again. “I’m glad you had a good night.”

“But I didn’t!” he blurts out.

She pauses for a moment and he wishes she would turn around so he could see her face. “Oh?”

“The women were terrifying! They kept chasing me. The one who left that, she tried to kiss me and when I pushed her away, she fell against me.”

“Right.” Her voice is quiet.

“And the main reason I didn’t have a good night,” he says, and his heart is thumping now, “is because I wanted to be here. With you.”

She’s dropped the shirt into the tub and she still hasn’t turned around.

“Audrey,” he says, and he lets the longing he feels for her seep into her voice.

And then she’s turning around, damp arms are around his neck and she’s clinging on to him. He holds her tightly, feeling her warmth, her slenderness.

“Say it again?” she asks.

“Audrey.” He cups her face, tracing her cheekbones with his thumb. “Audrey.”

Her dark eyes are swimming. “Siegfried,” she whispers.

A tear falls down her cheek and he wipes it carefully away. “You are the only person I want to leave lipstick stains on my clothes.”

Her smile is luminous. He kisses it.

#siegfried x audrey #fluff #acgas 2020 #all creatures great and small #my fic

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skyward-floored · 21 hours ago

Text

Dappled Leaves

Here's some more of my Zelda AU where Link gets corrupted! This is the part right at the beginning where he gets corrupted! It's... not a good day for him. sorry buddy.

(This fic technically comes next out of what I've written so far, but I've changed a few things so parts of it are non-canon now lol)

Warning for some canon-typical violence, and injury

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“Well, here we are, men.”

Link tugged on Epona’s reins at Sir Keelan’s remark, and the other knights beside him pulled their horses to a stop as well. The forest ahead loomed over them, seeming innocent enough with the call of birds in the distance and sunshine flickering off leaves, but Link could swear he felt a chill emanating from within.

He shivered. Something about the trees just seemed... otherworldly. Like the sparkle of a fairy in the glow of dawn, or the spiral of especially bright stars that Zelda loved to chart across the sky.

“The Lost Woods,” one of the other knights murmured, an older man by the name of Sir Trellon. “Or that’s what the locals call it. Never actually been inside before.”

“You think the stories are true? About people turning into monsters?” Sir Rowan said in a loud whisper towards Link, and he rolled his eyes. He’d fought his share of monsters, but he didn’t believe people could just turn into them. Especially not just by going into a forest.

Even if there were rumors of people going inside and never coming back.

“Why would this section of Faron woods turn people into monsters but not the rest of it?” Sir Garod spoke up, his brow furrowed. “It doesn’t make sense to me.”

“Because it’s just a rumor,” Sir Aryt huffed, his horse snorting in turn.

“All rumors hold a seed of truth,” Sir Keelan remarked, and looked up at the trees. “Often twisted, but they have to come from somewhere. Though I would doubt we’ll turn into beasts the moment we walk in.”

“But we might. Maybe the flesh will fall from our bones and we’ll all become skeletons,” Rowan said with a wiggle of his fingers, and Link muffled a snort.

“You’re already a skeleton Rowan, no need for any further turning of one,” Sir Keelan replied briskly, and amused chuckles went up from the group as Sir Rowan made an offended noise. He’d always been on the leaner side. “Weapons ready men, let’s find this legendary sword.”

Sir Keelan urged his horse forward, and the rest of the knights followed, an odd prickle falling over Link’s skin as they passed under the shadow of the leaves. Epona seemed to sense his unease, and she nickered softly, ears twitching.

Link rubbed her neck, letting the sensation of her hair under his fingers calm his nerves. He was just feeling anxious because of Zelda’s dreams, he was sure. She’d been sleeping restlessly for weeks now, repeatedly seeing the same string of events, and though most of them had been unclear, she’d stated she’d seen a great darkness approaching, one thick enough to cover the entire kingdom.

But she’d also seen a figure finding a bright sword, hidden in a forest. And she’d seemed confident the figure had been Link.

Link wasn’t so sure, but Zelda had insisted it must be him, or at least a knight that wore clothes similar to his. Which was why Link’s entire squad was here, and not just himself.

He still wasn’t so sure he should be here at all, but Link could see the toll Zelda’s dreams were taking on her, lights on in her rooms at all hours, dark shadows under her eyes when she was awake. Link wasn’t sure quite what to think of the dreams themselves, but he took Zelda seriously. She was his closest friend, and he trusted her, even if it did seem odd to send a squad of the castle’s best knights off into the middle of the woods just based on a dream.

He trusted her.

And if she was right about the darkness... they needed this blade.

Link breathed out and looked over his companions riding beside him, dappled sunshine rippling across familiar faces. Their captain, Sir Keelan at the front, dark hair neat as always, Sir Trellon beside him studying the woods with a thoughtful expression on his wrinkled face. Sir Garod, towering over everyone as he watched with an amused look at Sir Rowan’s daily attempt to get a smile out of Sir Aryt, and Sir Aryt frowning in return.

Rowan Link knew best, since they were closest in age, but he knew all the knights, had grown up around most of them. They were a good group of men. Men he was proud to fight beside.

Men who surely had a bigger chance of finding and pulling a sacred blade than him.

“Kindly put your horse away from mine, Sir Rowan, or I will be forced to take drastic measures,” Aryt suddenly remarked, shooting Rowan a glare that terrified most people. Rowan was uncowed though, and gave his elder a smile.

“Oh yes? What sort of drastic measures?” he questioned, and Link leaned in, curious.

Aryt narrowed his pale eyes. “I believe your hair is getting a bit long, Sir Rowan. It would be a shame if something happened to it.”

Sir Rowan’s teasing expression quickly fell, and he hurriedly moved his horse back from Aryt’s, putting a protective hand on his ginger ponytail. Link couldn’t help his chuckle at Rowan’s fearful expression, and Sir Garod let out a rich laugh, slapping the younger knight on the back.

“Ah Rowan, your hair is safe, old Aryt won’t really shear you,” he chuckled, and Rowan huffed.

“I know that.”

“Didn’t look like it,” Link commented quietly, and Garod laughed again as Rowan made another huffy noise.

“Settle down men, I’d prefer it if the whole forest didn’t know we were here,” Sir Keelan called behind him, and Sir Garod quieted his laughter.

“What’s he worried about? These woods have never borne any report of worrisome beasts,” Sir Rowan said in a quieter voice, and Sir Aryt narrowed his eyes at the trees around them.

“Just because there are no reports doesn’t mean they aren’t there.”

Conversation stilled then, the silence not uncomfortable, but not exactly peaceful, either. The buzz in Link’s skin seemed to grow the further into the woods they went, and he found himself fidgeting, ears twitching at the slightest sound, eyes scanning for movement.

He swore he heard music at one point.

“Looks like this is as far as the horses go,” Sir Trellon remarked, breaking the silence as they reached what was an end to the slight path they’d been following. The trees grew much closer together up ahead, and while they would be able to proceed on foot, the horses certainly wouldn’t fit.

“Probably a good thing, they seem nervous,” Rowan mentioned, his own horse’s ears twitching. “Rosie won’t sit still.”

“Perhaps they know something we do not,” Garod spoke up, thick eyebrows creased.

Everyone exchanged looks, but didn’t speak further, dismounting and securing their horses. Link gave Epona a pat, the mare nibbling lightly at his hair in response, and he bid her a quick farewell before they set off again.

The birds quieted as they plunged deeper into the woods, and the air seemed to grow colder, only flickers of sunlight reaching through the canopy of leaves above. Link’s hand never strayed from his sword, and he swore he kept hearing distant noises, trills of melody, quiet laughs. A light fog rolled in as they continued, swirling in small eddies at their feet, drifting between the trees and obscuring their path. It seemed to cling to their boots, and Link felt as though it had a weight to it, one that tried to pull him in a specific direction.

“Link?”

He blinked at Rowan’s question, realizing he’d been staring off into the trees and stopped walking.

“Everything alright? You’ve seemed distracted ever since we got here,” he asked. "You're not turning into a skeleton, I hope."

Link shook his head, then shrugged.

“No, I'm not. It's these woods. They don’t feel... normal,” he admitted quietly, and Rowan tilted his head.

“In what way?”

Link glanced around at the trees and the fog, feeling that odd pull again. “I don’t know. Just... something. It’s like there’s...”

“Wait, do you hear that?” Sir Trellon said suddenly, and all of them paused, ears pricked.

The woods seemed to still even further, silence almost as heavy as the fog. Link strained his ears, but he didn't hear anything.

Something suddenly rustled that might have been the wind, but they all raised their swords, keeping them and their shields at the ready. Link scanned the trees as he fell back into formation with the others, the pull of the fog insistent as they stood their ground, watching, listening.

Another rustle.

Then yellow eyes appeared through the fog.

“Monsters!” Sir Keelan shouted, and the clearing flooded with the beasts, completely out of nowhere.

The quiet woods exploded into noise, monsters screeching and metal clanging as the knights blocked strikes from the beasts. Link slashed at a wolfos that ran at him, teeth bared menacingly. It yelped as he struck its side, and he quickly leapt around and finished it off with a stab to the neck. More of the beasts darted around them, several skeletons and even a few large pig-like creatures Link recognized as moblins, which... were rare, and usually rather solitary.

Monsters in a huge group like this? An ambush? he thought in disbelief as he fought off another wolfos. What on earth—

A skeleton leapt for him as he finished off the other wolfos, and Link dove to the side to avoid its blade, the metal hitting a mossy rock mere inches from his face. The skeleton made a clattering noise that Link took as annoyed, and he quickly leapt upwards, smashing his blade through its spine and sending the skeleton to the ground in pieces.

Another skeleton replaced it, and Link hurriedly blocked its strike at his neck, gritting his teeth. It seemed like an awful lot of the monsters were targeting him.

“No worrisome beasts indeed,” he heard Sir Aryt snort from nearby, and saw him stab into a moblin with no small force. “What keen observational skills you have, Sir Rowan.”

“How was I supposed to know?” Rowan huffed back at him as he jumped in to finish the moblin off. “Faron woods never have this many monsters!”

“Tighten up, more from the north!” Sir Keelan shouted, and they turned to face the second wave of beasts that rushed out of the trees.

Link had gotten a bit separate from the other knights while he’d been fighting the skeletons, and he quickly made to rejoin them, scrambling over mossy roots. A bigger wolfos leapt out at him before he could reach them though, one with reddish eyes and streaks of dark purple in its fur.

It was blocking him from the other knights, and Link narrowly avoided getting teeth to his neck as it lunged at him. The weight of the beast slammed into him, and Link went sprawling, landing hard on the ground.

He gasped, barely managing to hold onto his sword, and stared up at the beast. Salvia strung between the wolfos’ yellowed teeth as it bared them wide, nearly closing them around his neck, and Link heard a shout of his name that seemed oddly far away. He just managed to avoid the bite to his neck, and found himself on the defensive as he fought the huge wolfos, rolling and dodging all while teeth snapped at his face.

Link managed to land a punch on its nose with his free hand, and while it howled angrily, he got a better grip on his sword and slashed at its side.

The wolfos yelped, and Link finally managed to roll out from under it, even while its claws scrabbled at him. He’d lost his shield but he would have to do without it, no time to retrieve it from where it lay several feet away in the grass.

Link dove to the side as the wolfos lunged again, and angled his sword up, trying to stab it as it dove for him. The monstrous wolf changed direction at the last moment, the blade only grazing it, and it barely touched the ground before it leapt at him again, huge paws outstretched.

Link scrambled to his feet and jumped backwards, dodging the attack, and watched the wolfos as it rushed backwards, pacing back and forth in confusing movements.

Its beady red eyes fixed on him, and Link charged forward with a shout, the beast jumping at the same time. This time Link’s blade sank into the wolfos’ neck, and it let out a strangled howl as it fell to the dirt, eyes growing wild. Link dodged a weak snap from the beast, blood in its fur, and thrust his sword into the wolfos again, the monster finally falling still. It was dead.

Link panted where he was knelt, a little out of breath from the intense fight, then looked up to see if anyone needed his assistance.

And found that he was alone.

Link startled, jumping to his feet as he whipped his head around, but he couldn’t see anyone in sight, the woods silent and empty. He looked behind him, and saw that even the body of the wolfos he’d been fighting was gone, and his sword along with it.

He was completely alone.

Link stared at the trees in bewilderment, beyond confused as to how this had happened. He’d rolled around a bit with the wolfos sure, but not so much as to have entirely left the others behind. He couldn’t even hear the battle anymore, where had they gone? Where had his sword and the dead wolfos gone? How had this happened?

...And how exactly was he going to find the others again?

“Hello?” he called tentatively, but not so much as a bird answered him. Link looked around the trees, fog wisping its way between the trunks and swirling softly at his feet, and felt a chill down his spine.

Maybe there was something to the rumors of people never coming out.

A soft feeling prickled at his skin suddenly, the same he’d felt ever since stepping foot in the forest. Link slowly turned and looked at an unassuming spot in the trees, and felt that pull again, the chime that both thrilled and scared him.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. Without any clue where the others were, or his weapon for that matter, he figured following the odd sensation was as good of a heading as any.

The fog curled away from his feet as he stepped towards the feeling, and Link began to make his way through the woods, hoping the pull would reunite him with the other knights again. He could only hope they were all okay. They were all skilled for certain, but that had been a lot of monsters that had appeared out of nowhere.

A snuffling noise caught his attention, and Link ducked behind a bush, watching as a moblin stomped by with its spear at the ready. Link swallowed, letting it pass before standing up and hurrying on his way. This may have been an out of the way part of the woods, but this many monsters lurking around anywhere was just unnatural.

Is this the darkness you saw, Zelda?

Link tried to quiet his breathing as he moved through the woods, shoulder stinging where the wolfos had slammed into him earlier. He crept by more monsters, being careful not to let them spot him, sometimes having to climb a tree or duck under a prickly bush in order to avoid detection. Link did have a small dagger on his belt, but it was hardly enough to take out any of the monsters he’d seen so far. Fighting would be his last resort.

...He was really missing his sword.

Link continued on, dashing past monsters, following the weird tug in his middle. The fog seemed to thicken around him, but it never fully covered his path, and he diligently headed further into the forest, trees getting thicker, and taller, very sparse rays of sunshine filtering through.

The deeper Link went, the stronger the pull in his chest grew, and he stopped coming across as many monsters, the woods silent except for the soft brush of leaves, and the occasional musical trill in the distance that Link thought he imagined more than once.

Link abruptly felt the urge to turn, and he did, finding himself descending what looked like the remains of some extremely old steps. The stone was cracked, moss and roots covering most of what was left, and Link had to watch where he stepped as he picked his way down them. The trees around him thinned out a bit, and more ruins joined the steps, old fallen pillars, a collapsed wall with a bird’s nest tucked in the crumbling stone. The trees and fog still blocked most of the sky, but Link looked around in interest at the ruins, still following the tug in his chest.

He passed under a tree branch that was curved almost like an archway, grass crunching softly under his boots, and his breath caught as he raised his head.

Sunshine streamed through the trees into the clearing up ahead, keeping the fog at bay. Small flowers poked up from the grass, colored petals bright in the glow from the sun, and the feeling in Link’s chest sang, his heart beating faster as he saw light glint off of something, something important.

That’s it.

That’s the sword Zelda saw in her dream.

Link took a step forward, transfixed by the sight, and then everything went wrong.

One moment he was staring in awe, and the next, a weight slammed into his shoulder, sending him to his knees as he gasped in shock. Link felt frantically at his back, and pain hit him more sharply as his fingers brushed against the shaft of an arrow.

He’d let his guard down.

You idiot!

Link tried to turn himself to look at the threat, but couldn’t move anything more than his head without pain wrenching through him, so intense he couldn’t do more. A small groan escaped him, and he nearly collapsed, the pain like a hot coal burning through his shoulder.

Arrows shouldn’t hurt this much, why does it feel like I’m—

Link finally turned his head, gritting his teeth through the pain, and a cold feeling of dread welled in his stomach as a shadowy figure stepped out of the bushes.

That wasn’t a monster.

His dread only grew as the cloaked figure stepped closer, a bow held in one hand, a hood shadowing his face. Link could see reddish eyes though, shot through with purple, and he tried to keep his breathing steady despite the alarm racing through him.

Who was this? What was happening?

“Well well well,” the man said as he watched Link struggle for breath through the pain, his purple cloak rippling in the breeze. A sneer formed on pale lips. “Seems I’ve found a prospective hero.”

Link sucked in a breath as more pain abruptly shook through him, clutching at his shoulder. What was happening?

“Just as planned. My monsters did a fine job of leading me to you,” the man continued, the same sneer in his voice as he stepped closer. “You have no idea how long I’ve planned for this, boy. At last my vision will be realized, and you will be the tool that I use to bring it forth.”

Link swallowed as the man spoke, not liking the sound of any of that. Thoughts and plans on what to do whirled through his head, none of them good, but then the sunlight nearby caught his eye again, shimmering brightly.

The sword.

If he could just make it to the sword, he’d be fine. Zelda had said it could banish evil, evil that this man was surely using and planning, so that was all he had to do.

Link took a deep breath, then lurched to his feet as he tried to make a run for it, heart thudding wildly. The sword, just make it to the sword, that’s all you have to—

Another arrow slammed in next to the first, and Link cried out, tumbling back to the ground.

“Not another step, boy,” the man said in a voice that dripped with ice. “I have use of you, and I’d prefer it if you were intact. I’d hate to shoot you again, but…”

Link could barely focus on what he was saying, pain blurring his senses. The arrows felt like burning icicles in his back, freezing straight to his core with an unnatural feel, and he let out a shuddering cough.

The man sighed almost theatrically.

“Ah. Seems my magic is a bit eager to get started. I was hoping to wait to do this part, but I suppose I’d better go ahead and finish since it’s begun,” he said in a bit of an annoyed voice. “Better to have it done with.”

Link heard footsteps through the fog of pain, and then a hand pressed against the small of his back, a shudder involuntarily escaping him at the touch.

“Hold still.”

Then burning agony shot through Link, and he screamed, writhing in place on the ground. Something began to worm into him as the agony ripped another cry from his throat, icy tendrils creeping up his back and constricting him like a poisonous vine, pulling him down until he felt like he was drowning.

It was like nothing Link had ever felt, and he thrashed against it, his fingers clawing at the grass as he tried to fight the overwhelming sensation.

He couldn’t let whatever this magic was doing to him win, someone had to warn the castle about this, the knights, someone had to warn Zelda—

“Relax boy, it’ll be easier if you don’t fight it,” the man crooned, and he pressed his fingers harder into Link’s skin, more burning cold accompanying the touch. Link screamed again, but the sound was weaker, his thrashing slowing as the cold locked his limbs and burrowed deeper, each new layer lighting his nerves up with agony.

The ice tore into him, relentless in its attack. It ripped at his mind, clawed its way though his chest, icy darkness slipping under his skin and into his lungs and head and heart—

No—

NO—

Darkness burst as something cracked inside of him, and Link let out one last wretched cry, his body abruptly deciding that whatever was happening was too much for it.

His vision spun down into dark and cold, and the last thing he heard was a satisfied laugh that blocked out the chime of the Master Sword calling to him, from just a little too far away.

#I'll write what happens directly after this at some point #the knights have a bad day too lol #legend of zelda au #legend of zelda fanfiction #fic #legend of zelda oc #loz ocs #Lost #writing from the floor #sorry for the slight cliffhangery ending #i really wanted to hit that 'this was not supposed to happen and something is wrong' feel and that was th best way to do it #anyway look I posted writing!! for the first time in weeks!!!#...please like it 😭

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blissfulbluee · 22 hours ago

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457 theory

gi-hun and in-ho have very different views of each other. gi-hun simply sees in-ho as an alliance, and a potential friend, if he isn’t one already.

with in-ho, things are way more complex. i’ll point out the obvious first; he’s obsessed with gi-hun. this obsession is mainly rooted in jealousy, confusion, and hurt. “why does he still have hope for society, and faith in humanity?” is a question he’s ruminated more than once. it’s painful to see someone endure the same trauma and become a better person because of it when you can’t do the same.

in-ho is drawn to gi-hun out of a desire to put an internal conflict to rest. he knows gi-hun’s mere existence represents the fact truly good people exist, and always have, and always will. he’s been aware of this since before gi-hun was a player. in his eyes, however, those people are either weak and taken advantage of, or there aren’t enough of them to make real change. he felt this was confirmed when the strategy he used in the games led him to victory- one i imagine was similar to sang-woo’s.

seeing someone with a different approach win made him wonder if his callousness was in vain. he justified his actions by telling himself gi-hun got lucky, and hoped he’d build a future around that luck. now, years later, he’s back to play the hero? he feels bad that his attempt is in vain, but at least he’ll learn his lesson; the system and those who play by its rules prevail.

a part of him hopes gi-hun will prove him wrong. he sees his past self in him; a man without his current philosophy. anyway, it’s definitely possible that there’s a homoerotic element to this fixation, as many people fall in love with people who remind them of themselves, but it will never be reciprocated after what he’s done. sad because in another universe they’d be a cute couple 😔

Hi! Thanks for the ask. Sorry for the delayed response. I think this is a good way to look at the ship, and is closer to canon than other things I have seen about them.

Yes, I agree that Gi-hun sees in-ho as a friend when he is Young-il.

I like how you bring up the jealousy and everything being the cause of the obsession (which is undeniable to me. he is absolutely obsessed with him in canon just not in the shipping way) I haven't thought a lot about how envious it would be for him to see how different they turned out.

I do also agree that In ho sees Gi-hun as weak for his morals. I think he wants to essentially teach him his ways, to maybe get him to be like him so that all of that envy goes away. he just has some very cruel and very homosexual methods. LMAO

I SO wish we could somehow get a universe where Gi-hun and past In-ho interact. That way we can have old man yaoi without the toxic nature for a change, even though that is what makes them so interesting.

People clown on shippers for shipping such a toxic ship that is essentially one sided as you mention, but thats the beauty of it. We don't necessarily find it pretty if they end up together. Sometimes we enjoy the one sided things because that's different from a typical romance. AND you can still enjoy it without getting as toxic/dark as possible.

You're right about everything anon. I wish I could say more but I am currently being hit with random exhaustion and you're really saying everything I am thinking lol.

#squid game #457 #inhun #asks

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hitodama3 · 2 days ago

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Best Friend's Brother (Caleb-LaDS)

So this bare shadow of a plot bunny has been pawing at my brain all day...

Along with the song Best Friend's Brother.

I can never see myself as the protagonist in otome games, or really any dating sims so imagine...

Not protagonist x Caleb

You are the childhood best friend of the LaDS protagonist.

You two are thick as thieves, and she spends as much time at your house as she does her own.

So, of course, you're well acquainted with her older, adopted, brother Caleb, and as the years have passed you've gained a bit of a ... crush.

And of course, your BEST friend would notice your change in behavior. Becoming a little mooney, maybe doodling something in a notebook before hiding it away when you see her coming, or even staring a *little* too long at the boys during the down time at lunch. She pounces on you like a hyena demanding to know what's going on.

Eventually, you're unable to avoid it any longer, and the feeling like you're going to burst out of your skin. You blurt out rapid fire that you have a crush.

She is over the moon! Immediately wanting to know who. So she can start planning a strategy on how to get them to like you. At first you refuse to tell her, because; What if it ruins your friendship!?! This is your best friend's brother after all!

But, eventually, you can no longer hide your wandering eyes, or maybe she sees the scribbled out C in your notebook, and puts two and two together.

You have to cover her mouth; when she almost screams your feelings, for everyone to hear! Your eyes dart around her face concerned that this may ruin your friendship, but you have no way to know that this could be the best thing that's ever happened to your friend.

What friend hasn't wanted their best friend to *actually* be their sibling, and a part of their family? She honestly couldn't think why she hadn't tried to orchestrate this sooner! She'd be able to keep her brother AND best friend forever this way!

You struggle to contain her excitement, and to keep her from; at the earliest opportunity, march over to Caleb and demand you date.

She tries her best to give you as much insider information as she can; into what Caleb likes and dislikes, and tries to set up as many encounters and alone time as possible.

You'd be embarrassed about how blatant she was being if you didn't enjoy his company so much. His presence making you feel warm and happy, while also feeling like you'd throw up at any time.

You were going to confess.

After months of interactions both created and situational you knew you weren't going to get any closer to him.

So no matter how stereotypical it may seem you pick Valentine's day to confess. You go out and find the largest sunflower you could find, before asking Caleb to see you alone. Though you could see your friend hiding around the corner as a mildly awkward and supportive audience, and confess.

You watch the face you'd been studying for months and you see that easy smile shift into a hesitant tilt. The moment becoming awkward and heavy and you knew his answer long before a word left his mouth.

You told him it was okay and that you guessed he only saw you as his sister's friend, or even a second little sibling, but you were glad that you confessed your feeling to him if to give them a release so they might start draining out so you could move on.

When you start to see him relax that you wouldn't burst into tears or yell you tried to put on a smile pushing back the bile that wanted to rise up your throat, and looking a little above his head and refusing to blink to dry your eyes. You held out the sunflower and asked if he'd take the flower at least, and thank him for not making fun of your feelings.

You turn away and your friend peaks out seeing your face and frown pulls at hers as she darts out snagging you and pulling you away as fast as possible.

The was the last time you talked to Caleb for many years. You'd see glimpses of him just from being friends with his little sister, but he did you a service by trying to be our of the way when ever you were near. Probably to be considerate of your feelings though it stung regardless.

Thankfully over the years you were able to put your feelings to bed, but the peace didn't last long when in the future you get a call full of heart break and agony.

Caleb was dead.

You rushed to your friend's side and tried to be there through the nights of pure agony and pain. Trying to fill the gap of loneliness and grief as best you could. Sharing the loss of someone who had been a large part of both your childhoods.

But then... He was back.

Your friend demanded you meet her, and you were happy to see them. A lot had been going on in your friend's life as she juggled her work as an enforcer with four other men that seemed to be a big part of what was going on in your friend's life.

She waved you over to a seat at the cafe and you chatted happy to see each other and catching up on what had happened when your friend perked over waving someone else over to the table.

When you heard a familiar voice. The gentle and upbeat tone curling down your spine like a caress. You froze unmoving as if afraid that you might spoke the ghost that had come to haunt you before a heavy body dropped down in the chair next to you.

Caleb complained as he realized your friend hadn't told you he was alive, and your friend stating that she wanted it to be a surprise just like it was a surprise for her.

Slowly you turned your head fighting not to go slack jaw as your eyes collided with unfamiliar purple eyes in a vaguely familiar face.

He was familiar.

He seemed like a stranger.

He was beautiful.

He felt cold.

He teasingly greeted you eyes roaming your body and pausing appreciatively over parts of you.

It made warmth pool in your checks and stomach, as you shifted away as if trying to run from his gaze.

You tried to banter with your friend accusing her for surprising you with something this large when you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist giving an imperious tug to drag your attention back to him.

Eyes narrowed and a pasted on smile he tells you that his sister refused to give him the details on how you were doing saying it should come from you. What followed felt more like an interrogation than long lost friends getting to know each other again.

Your wrist stayed locked in his grip the entire time his some slowly rubbing circles on your pulse point. Fingers flexing when ever your friend would drag wild stories or shenanigans you hadn't gotten into during the time he had been... away.

Especially when she brings up your dating life. Your friend has thrown herself into her work in the wake of Caleb's death, and you had decided that you wouldn't stay in mourning for a relationship you never had and starting putting yourself out there.

Your friend took great pleasure and relaying some of your more disastrous dates to him. You could feel your embarrassment rise in the face of your first crush but snapped at your friend good naturedly.

You even started up on some of your fun dates and adventures happy to recount your newest relationship. You had met online and he seemed very nice taking you out to places you had shown interest in and doing group activities with you.

You had forgotten your wrist was in his grasp till you started wondering out loud if you might ask him to officially be your boyfriend when you yelped at the sudden pain in your wrist dragging your eyes over to Caleb's narrowed ones as his hand tightened around your capture wrist.

His fake smile widened now that your attention rested solely on him and he started to pick apart your new potential partner. Finding every little issue you've had and dragging it to the forefront on why he wasn't good enough. With every one of your protest his thumb would swipe over your wrist and he'd call you on any excuse you tried to spout.

When Caleb's phone digged he finally broke the staring contest you'd been under allowing you to finally feel as if you could breath deeply again, and you watched a real smile tug at his lips more a sneer than anything. He knocked his phone towards you so you could see the contents. Caleb snuggly showing every dirty secret on your potential love interest. Gladly showing off what a terrible man he was and his secrets he's been hiding, while simultaneously simpering to you that it was okay and bad men hide themselves well.

It truly wasn't more secrets then the average person had, maybe a few incidents in his youth then most, but when compiled together it truly was enough to shake you after the mental battering you'd been subjected to for at least the last hour, and after the shock of seeing a loved one return from the dead...

You were quite mentally pliable at the time.

You were staring in confusion at his phone not noticing as the siblings talked over your head with only their face expressions and some head tilts.

You wondered allowed what you were supposed to do you were supposed to have a date with this man tonight...

Still holding your wrist with one hand and carefully tilting your face up with the other Caleb directed your attention back to him. Telling you not to worry and he'd take care of it. Let him take care of you again just like old times.

After all you wanted to make his readjustment period after his return smooth didn't you? It has been quite rough his recovery after the accident.

You were confused before the hand on your face shifted becoming cold and metallic. You flinch away in shock watching Caleb lower his prosthetic to the table top and you were instantly fascinated and concerned.

Caleb easily held your attention explaining his circumstances and how it'd be easier to get used to his new apartment if you might come over and assist him?

Before you could turn and ask your friend she piped in stating how she had work and won't you PLEASE help Caleb put with this?

Between the sibling tag teaming you were no match and agreed to help Caleb out as much as needed. Handing over your phone so he could type in his number and address. While your head was bent to look over where he was staying you were unaware as your friend beamed so pretty at her brother.

She always wanted her best friend to be part of the family and Caleb ALWAYS gave her what she wanted, and he OWED her after this last stunt.

Caleb tilted his head in acknowledgement eyes towards you and his smile pulled becoming a bit more soft that was only present for two people in his life. He had only viewed you as a sibling all those years ago but now after his time away you had bloomed. He couldn't hide behind the thought of you as a sibling anymore. You were a beautiful individual and people were starting to take note.

His hand flexes around your wrist once more. Just short of causing you enough pain to look up again. He could see the beginnings of the bruise he'd leave on your skin form. He couldn't help but be pleased at the reminder that would be visible to all who were looking.

He wouldn't allow them to.

You were his.

He was your first love. Your puppy love. And he was sure he could reignite that spark. Especially considering the shy glances you had thrown around at the beginning.

Caleb smirked as he raised your hand to press the sunflower tattooed on your wrist with his supposed death date wrapped around it to his lips. Watching much like a hunting dog observing its prey as your face jerked up from your phone and flushing at the contact. Hand spasming as you attempted to drawn it away and color climbing towards your ears.

Yes, this new assignment would not be a problem at all.

#love and deepspace #lads #lads caleb #i didnt proof read at all #its probably typo heaven #ill check later #gender neutral reader #reader x caleb #not the protagonist mc #protagonist best friend #theyre all yanderes your honor

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soliiform · 3 days ago

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Shit I wanna see in Fallout season 2

I want Maclean to be actually heading towards Big MT or Sierra Madre, Vegas is just a pit stop.

I want Thaddius to become a super mutants instead of a ghoul, which will luckily happen due to the leaked pics of the actor have his hands molded. Since the setting is changing to the Mojave it would be perfect to bring in Jacobstown and our beloved grandma Lilly. I see him becoming a Virgil-like character.

Rex and Dogmeat interaction.

Boone and/or Manny better be in No Vac when the Ghoul and Lucy show up, if not both at least one.

I want the vaguest mentions of the courier. Make Six a fucking folktale and have people scared to say the name like their fucking Voldemort. Six is just a travelling menace and they could just say that their in Zion or something.

VULPES PLEASE LORD PLEASE. I want to see him with the legion come back. If you talk down Lanius he’s like oh the legion will come back eventually and Vulpes doesn’t have any ending.

Arcade better be a fucking focal point because he was part of the enclave as a child and the enclave is a main part of the show.

ANY MENTION OF BENNY SWEET GOD PLEASE.

I would like a Arthur Maxson mention or appearance because he connected with all the chapters to become high elder. It would also allow some knowledge of how the capital wasteland and commonwealth are doing, even if a snippet since I doubt the show will go over there as much as I want it. He could also manipulate Maximus like how he was manipulated as a child to hating ghouls super mutants etc.

Lord if a death claw isn’t there I will scream

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fonv #fallout tv #fallout tv series #fallout tv show #fotv #fallout show #lucy maclean #benny fnv #arcade fnv #walter goggins #the ghoul #fallout prime #arthur maxson #maximus fallout #thaddeus fallout

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bellysoupset · 22 hours ago

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Super sick Wendy + Jonah - Part 3

this is the caretaker palooza

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Wendy's head was pounding. She couldn't quite figure out which way was up or down and felt incredibly nauseous, but her mouth was so dry that even moving her tongue hurt.

She let out a groan in the back of her throat, forcing her eyes open. Everything was blurry shapes, but she could hear voices far away... "Here," someone cupped her neck, helping her half sit up and pressing something against her lips, "take a sip, Wen."

Vince?

She obediently took a gulp of water and felt instinct kick in, her whole body lurching forward so she could clutch the bottle and greedily drink. The person pulled the bottle back, easily winning against her weak hold and Wendy let out a whimper. She was so thirsty.

"I'll give you more in a minute," he promised her and Wendy realized it was Luke's voice. Slowly she started to come to her senses. Luke was sitting by her side, but she was almost fully in his arms, back resting against his chest as he pressed a cold washcloth to her forehead.

She turned her head, trying to ignore the way the whole room swam at the small motion. Jonah was leaning out of the bed, half of his body out, shirtless, back convulsing-

"Jon...?" Wendy reached in, blindly, only to realize there was someone else sitting with on her bed. Leo was the one holding the bucket under Jon's chin, cooing softly.

She turned her face again, burying it in Luke's chest, and he rubbed her back, "I need you to take some meds," his voice was very soft, "alright?"

Alright. Wendy nodded, but didn't move, and Luke fed her the pills, with another gulp of water. It settled in her belly like a brick and she gagged, a sick burp coming up. Lucas didn't move at all, continuing to hug her, "is it staying down?"

Wendy swallowed in, breathing slowly through her mouth. Her nose was blocked. She hesitated, before nodding and yawning, the room becoming a blur once again as all her energy vanished.

The next time she came to be, she was wearing different clothes. Which was concerning considering the only people she recalled were Lucas and Leo. Wendy grimaced at the thought of one of them changing her, only to let out a sigh as she heard Bella's voice down the hall.

She stumbled up, grabbing on her headboard and then on her walls as she put a foot in front of the other. Her knee was throbbing and Wendy couldn't remember when she had fallen, but there was a nasty cut on it, now covered with band-aids and peeking out from the stretchy biker shorts Bella had dressed her with. The fever had broken, because she felt warm and clammy, but at least her body no longer felt like it weighed a thousand pounds.

Nevertheless, she was hyperventilating by the time she made it down the hallway.

Jonah was sprawled on the couch, his head on Leo's lap, a bucket on the ground under him, but it seemed to be empty. He was hugging a Gatorade bottle and drifting in and out of consciousness.

Leo didn't look much better than his boyfriend, he had dark circles under his eyes and his blonde hair was greasy and sticking out in weird directions. Still, he was smiling at Bell, who was sitting on one of the bean bags of Wendy's living room, between Luke's legs, reading something off her phone.

Lyrics, Wendy thought vaguely, pressing her forehead to the wall and regretting getting up from the bed. She let out a cough, which caused the whole room to erupt with noise.

"Santa Maria Madre de Dios- What are you doing up!?" Bella squealed and Wendy let out a groan as the ginger jumped up and rushed through the room, wrapping her into an embrace, "aw Tink, you shouldn't be up, you're not well..."

She guided Wendy through the living room and Jonah curled up his legs so she could sit on the couch with him. Wendy collapsed with a relieved sigh, catching Leo's worried glance in her direction. Instead of blushing and looking away quickly, he stared openly.

"How are you feeling, Wendy?"

Oh she had scared him, she thought with a snort, letting her head fall against the couch's arm, "dizzy..."

"You haven't eaten in a while," Luke said, getting up from the bean bag as well, "do you think you can handle soup? Or just toasts?" at the mention of food, although she expected to feel another wave of nausea, Wendy's belly let out a famished growl.

She blushed, curling up more, "uhm- Maybe just toast for now..." Bella was hovering by the couch, clearly wanting to do something to help. Wendy gestured to her outfit, "where did you get these ugly clothes?"

The ginger let out a cackle —loud enough it seemed to snap Jon back into reality — shaking her head in disbelief, "never change, Wen," she teased, leaning in and planting a kiss on top of Wendy's head, "I'm glad you're feeling well enough to bitch about your outfit."

"Wen," Jon rasped out and Wendy's head snapped into his direction. Last she remembered of him he had been in a bad shape. Burning up, completely unresponsive as she shoved his shoulder before running out of the bed to get sick in the bathroom... Asking her if she was leaving...

She frowned, locking her legs with his and letting out a sigh as Luke came back to the living room, holding out a bottle blue Gatorade and some dry toasts for her, "small bites," he instructed, as if he was the doctor. Wendy noticed Leo quietly moving the empty bucket from under Jon, towards her.

She took a small bite, under all their watchful eyes and then a sip of the electrolyte drink. Her mouth exploded with flavor despite how bland the items were and for a second she had to stop chewing and breathe through the queasiness, but soon the hunger got the best of her and she swallowed in.

Leo was staring at her, "is it staying down?" he asked, wearily, and Wendy would've bought his almost annoyed tone, wasn't it for the fact her memory was being juggled and she remembered him carrying her out of the bathroom, terrified.

"Yeah," she took another bite, then smiled at Jonah to calm him down, while Luke and Bell returned to their previous position.

Wendy didn't say anything as she continued to eat, Jonah equally quiet as he sipped his drink and dozed off once again, waking up not even ten minutes later in order to curl up and muffle a string of sickly little burps against Leo's thigh.

She crawled closer, so she could plant a hand on his arm, and Jonah raised his head, "I'm alright..." he rasped out, "stomach's just bitching, I'm not gonna be sick again..."

"What time is it?" Wendy yawned, looking around. It was bright out, but she couldn't pinpoint the exact hour.

"A little past 3 PM," Luke answered, checking his own phone, "I texted Vin, to let him know what was going on. You should let him know you're awake."

Wendy opened a thankful smile, although she wasn't sure if she was more glad that Luke had had this forethought or that the two idiots were on talking terms.

Which, again, brought her back to Jon's weird accusation, "I'm not leaving," she blurted out, not bothering to pretend everyone in the room clearly wasn't in the weird gossip that had triggered Jonah's question. They were into each other's business, always, "to Doveport, I guess. I don't know who came up with this ridiculous idea, but I'm not leaving."

Jonah raised a shaky hand, pointing at Bella, "she did," he tattled, a hint of humor in his voice, and Bell let out a gasp, blushing.

"Traitor?!" She scoffed, while Luke frowned at his wife and Leo let out a snort, "all I said was that you were acting weird, okay? You're always there nowadays, you're saying the town is great, that we should visit-"

Wendy rolled her eyes, taking another sip, "you could've asked me," she scoffed, but there was no heat to her voice. She didn't have any energy to be annoyed and it wasn't that big of an offense to begin with, "I'm not leaving."

Jonah grumbled, "told you so," slowly sitting up with Leo's help and Bella pouted, crossing her arms.

"You're acting weird," she defended herself, while Luke quietly scolded her that Wendy was too sick for this conversation. The brunette let out a huff at her friend's antics, looking at Jon, who was watching her like a hawk, even weak as he was.

Another hour went by, until Bella and Luke packed up their stuff to leave, Leo deciding he wasn't going anywhere until the other two were back on their feet.

"You let me know if you need anything, kiddo," Wendy overheard Bell tell Leo, "I'm off work this week, I can swing by any hour."

Did anyone know what had happened?

Wendy caught Bell's eyes and deep down she understood that nope, they hadn't told anyone and weren't going to. The ginger crouched down next to the couch, pulling her into a hug, "try not to die while we're away," she berated lightly, messing Wen's hair, "you call me if you're sick of them-" Bella gestured over her shoulder, to where Luke, Leo and Jon were regrouping, Jonah now on his feet, "and I'll come by, alright?"

"Okay," Wendy hugged her back, "thank you for coming, you gossip."

Bell wrinkled her nose, shoving her off lightly, "Jonah's such a snitch," she grumbled, getting up and taking Luke's hand in hers.

As soon as the couple was gone, Leo got up from the couch as well, to take a shower, since he hadn't had one in a long while and had clearly been cleaning the place all over, as well as dealing with them.

"You two stay put," he glared at them and Jonah let out a little chuckle, leaning his head back on the couch.

"Yes Dr. Wagner," he teased, causing Wendy to perk up.

"Dr. Wagner-Banks," she corrected, causing Leo to turn cherry red as he walked away.

When he was gone, Jon turned to Wendy, taking her hand in his and squeezing it, "I'm sorry," he said, "I was supposed to be taking care of you..."

She rolled her eyes, intertwining their fingers, "we were probably both exposed yesterday- Well, the day before yesterday," it was so weird to have a whole missing day in her memories, "and if you hadn't brought me home, I don't think anyone would've noticed-"

Jonah's whole face contorted in disgust, "shut up," he said sharply, "I would've noticed. Vince would have. Bell too- Shut up."

Wendy opened a little smile at his explosion, rolling her eyes. It was cute, but it was also an objective fact that she had a million activities and because of that her disappearance would take longer to be noticed by her friend group.

"I didn't want you to leave," Jonah confessed after a minute of silence, his voice sounding like he had gargled with glass, "I know it was dumb to just assume so, I just- You're my best friend, and I love you, I didn't want you to leave."

"Good thing I was never leaving then?" Wendy grinned, scooting closer so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Jon wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, "I love you too, Jon."

She could feel his hesitance, a breath sucked in and held, but Wendy said nothing as she heard her best friend's brain working things up, "would you be my maid of honor?" he asked quietly, after a beat, squeezing her, "please? There's no one else I'd want more than you."

If Wendy wasn't so dehydrated, she'd have probably started to cry. As it was, all she did was pull back with a smile, before throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing him into a hug, "of course I would, Jon, of course!" Wendy breathed out, groaning as he hugged her back just as tightly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

#mywriting #sickfic #emeto #fever #influenza #wendy marshall #jonah banks

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