#links count almost

[laugtherhyena]

Continuing where i left off, here's the full Nijiue fam sprite gallery to satisfy all of your Nijiue-related needs!

And when i say full, i MEAN full. This has all of Hitaru, Jiro and Akemi's variations, one of my Adult Iroha designs, and even Mako's whole sprite gallery for whoever wants to take a look

[em-exceeds-change-zearu]

dw about it. he's just like that.

og images under cut:

[punctuation-completionist]

Have you seen the demicolon?

yeah, i mean i've heard of it but like. idk i am surprisingly neutral on the concept? i mean it's a fun idea but also it's not really viable in a writing context (formatting-wise at least) so it just. eh.

(demicolon thing for context)

[angeart]

hhau vex art part I bonus: a night for living: a pink ribbon [RP]

[6,8k words]

this is a part of my and link's very self-indulgent discord rp. just a chunk of that whole night for living rp that relates to kane being gifted his own ribbon.

the night is in full swing. everyone is tipsy. mr beak gets handed to scar for safekeeping. kane and grian are going to race each other through an obstacle course.

because there's multiple characters here, i tried to keep track of which ones are involved in which replies for you. as per usual, grian bits are me, scar's bits are link, and kane and nico are sort of everywhere.

rp below the cut <3

--

GRIAN/KANE

it's undeniable that grian's getting excited now. the sky is clear overhead, stars shining. the bonfire crackles, sending sparks up as vexes sing songs that grian doesn't know. the atmosphere gets under his skin, his hands now free, alcohol lending him reckless buzz of warmth as he eyes the course. 

"it's a lap or?"

"oh, there's a finish," kane reassures. "you'll know when you reach it." and, without waiting, he starts.

"hey!" grian yelps, scrambling to move and catch up. "i thought you said no cheating!"

"never said that," kane throws him a grin, the look back enough to destabilise him with how tipsy he is. he topples into a barrel, allowing grian to catch up. "anything goes." 

"anything but flying," grian remarks, wings flapping as he leaps over the barrel on his side, much cleaner than whatever kane did.

it seems to click then, for kane, that this is a competition. and he loves those. the fierceness lends him strength, clearing some of the fog as he grins sharply and plunges onwards through the obstacles. "yeah."

--

SCAR/NICO

Scar loves watching Grian sprint about eagerly, wings on display and even being utilized. It warms his heart, seeing Grian in his element like this— competitive and nimble, nothing holding him back.

“I’m also rooting for Grian, but that’s because I love him,” Scar says, not bothering to hide the love dazed tone in his voice.

“Gross.” Nico sticks out his tongue, but then they both laugh, knowing he’s full of it.

--

GRIAN

the race is surprisingly long, all kinds of things put in their way. it's a bit of a blur as grian gets into it, frantic to be fast, laughing high and manic as he gets ahead of kane, tumbling over obstacles. some of it is bound to leave bruises, but he doesn't care, wings flapping and heart drumming a wild rhythm against his ribs, none of which has anything to do with fear.

he feels alive, as he vaults over things and dips under barriers. flinging himself at climbling walls, scrambling across a roof that was somehow included. his head buzzes, electric and delighted, liking the high spot before he glides off of it, definitely not cheating as his wings flap to carry him further.

kane stands no chance as grian sinks furthter into it, squealing and chirping and happy, skidding through turns until he sees the finish line: a mass of blankets and pillows dragged out, to create a sort of literal line.

grian dives into it, giggling, brain haywire on endorphins thinking nest.

--

SCAR

It’s about right before the rooftop that Scar gives up on waiting patiently and starts jogging along the sidelines of the race, avoiding all the obstacles and cutting through a line of vex so he can meet Grian at the end. 

And oh is he glad he does.

Grian’s laughter carries, catching on the wind like his wings do, soaring toward finish line. Scar leaps up, clapping his hands together as best he can with a bottle and chicken in hand. He didn’t howl before, but now he does, loud and unbidden, a bright glow emanating from his throat as he cheers. 

It feels like an old Boatem party. Like carelessness and hilarity. Like specially crafted games that all go so delightfully wrong. 

(For once something truly feels akin to home.)

--

GRIAN/KANE

grian hears scar's howl, recognising his voice instantly. warmth runs down his spine as he realises scar is watching and cheering him, that he's giddy for grian's success. in response, he chirps, high-pitched and overjoyed, even as he keeps himself burrowed in the blankets and pillows, wings flared out, flapping occasionally as he nudges himself further into the perceived nest, high on victory. he's laughing into the soft things, the sound now muffled, free and unbound.

kane glides down, not bothering to run the last bit, knowing he's lost. he's breathing heavily, steps slightly clumsy, the run not doing good things to the alcohol distribution through his body. he pauses at the edge of the blankets, watching grian, all his quips and remarks dying on his tongue.

he's never really seen grian like this.

--

SCAR

Scar howls again, goofier and with several instances of ow owwws for flare. He rushes over to Grian, fully intending on diving into the blankets with him, but he catches Kane’s gaze first, and he pauses instead. 

The two of them lock eyes and Scar smiles brightly, honestly glad that someone else gets to see this— the side of Grian that has Scar absolutely weak in the knees, head over heels, crazy in love. 

Scar falls backward, right next to Grian while minding his large wingspan, using his own wings to flap and soften the landing. “You did it!!” Scar cheers, rolling over so he can admire his mate, stars practically visible in his eyes.

--

GRIAN

grian chirps wildly as he registers scar joining him, and he pounces on him, giddy and giggling. his wings flap, heedless and excited. he's so happy to have his mate here, in the victory nest.

"your sabotage didn't work," he remarks goofily, pressing a kiss to scar's cheek and then holding his lips there as he laughs.

--

SCAR

“I don’t think anything could have stopped you from winning that! You were a natural! Top notch!” Scar laughs, too, a delighted giggle, loud and squeaky and utterly overjoyed. 

And maybe he shouldn’t— not here, not so breathless and without careful thought, but Scar can’t help it. He thinks of that single flap of Grian’s wings and his heart soars just as high. 

“My beautiful night sky,” Scar whispers, voice honey-coated and absolutely drunk on love. “…complete with a rare glimpse of his gorgeous northern lights.”

--

GRIAN

grian squeals in protest at the sappy words, biting lightly at scar's jaw in a hollow threat, but he's laughing into it. "stop, stoop." his wings flap again, a gust of wind rushing across them, a feeble attempt to try and dissuade scar's lovesick speech. 

still giggling, he rolls off, away from scar, onto his back. staring lightheadedly at the branches above, as he tries to catch his breath.

the awareness of where he is and what he's doing with his wings continues to evade him completely, warmth and life buzzing underneath his skin. 

"that was fun," he says, out of the blue, still gazing up. his voice is a bit tamer, soft, deeply appreciative.

he glances at scar. 

"give me mr beak," he requests as his hands reach out to grab.

--

SCAR

Scar laughs again, then exhales loudly, relaxed and happy, so glad that his gushing was well-received. (Yes, getting bitten on the jaw is being well-received.)

“Fine, fine,” Scar sighs goofily. He hands the plushie over when it’s requested, handed off with care and a goofy gobbling sound that suits a turkey and not a chicken. “Here you go!”

--

GRIAN

grian snatches at the bird, instantly wrapping his arms around it and tucking it into his chest. there's still something haywire in him, maybe because of the leftover adrenaline from the race, the excitement carrying other things with it and leaving them behind. grian's instincts are tingling, thinking nest and bird, mate and flock, and—

he peeks up, catching kane's gaze.

he has an insane urge to tug him into the pile of blankets.

he stays still for now, but he chirps at him, watching expectantly, wings flapping a little bit. there's plenty of space for him. 

--

SCAR/KANE

Kane blinks, still stunned into silence, and he looks to Scar for guidance here. 

He doesn’t know what a chirp like that means. He sees the way Grian flaps his wings and his own twitch in response, but he hesitates. 

He doesn’t know. He—

Scar grins and nods toward Grian, urging Kane to take the space that is so clearly being offered to him. “Hey, Kane, buddy, I don’t think you crossed the finish line yet!” 

It’s a blatant invitation, with absolutely no room for his intoxicated mind to doubt that fact. 

Kane smiles, timidly at first, before it grows, infected by both of their overly apparent joy. “Make room!” he calls, diving face first into the blankets adjacent to Grian, learning from Scar to carefully dodge the spread out avian wings. 

Scar raises his bottle (which has definitely spilled over several times now) victoriously, howling again before taking a huge swig, surprisingly ecstatic to share this moment, not a hint of possessiveness or paranoia in his veins. 

Kane joins in, and there’s even an attempt to keep his volume down, to match the level of that eager chirp instead of the typical vex holler. 

He’s never been happier to lose a race. 

Second place never felt so good.

--

GRIAN

grian's delighted when kane dives in, his presence in the nest making everything so much better, instantly putting some deep-rooted instinct in grian at ease. he giggles in cheer, trying to welcome him, giddy at the joyful vex sounds that come from his nest-mates. 

his wings spread, holding over both of them, hovering like a blanket without fully descending on them. his wingspan is wide, feathers unabashedly violet, only slightly unkempt. 

he chirps again, pleased, eyes bright as he watches them. his skin feels warm, from the race and the slow spread of alcohol, making everything so much looser and easier. it's a moment of freedom; he doesn't think about where he is. he just is.

--

SCAR/KANE

Kane knows not to touch, but he’s never been presented with the possibility of being touched by Grian’s wings, and again he looks to Scar for some kind of guidance, but he gets none.

Scar is rolling over into Grian’s space, clothes brushing against his feathers, but he draws no attention to it, instead leaning in to press a sloppy kiss below Grian’s ear. 

Kane thinks maybe he understands. 

Scar coos, and it’s fractured and awkward, and more than a little slurred, but it’s sweet. So sickeningly sweet.

Kane untenses, slipping right back into his teasing nature by making a gagging sound, to which Scar growls at him, entirely harmless, teeth bared in a way that immediately melts into a smile.

--

GRIAN

grian squeals, quietly and happily, at the kiss and scar's closeness. he nuzzles his nose against him, appreciative, humming quietly at the coo, when kane makes the offending sound.

with a scowl, he chirps at him and smacks him lightly with his wing.

it's brief. it's barely anything. but the contact was there, before grian's wing flits away, slotting just slightly out of reach, seemingly nothing more than grian being sulky. 

there's a chicken in his arms though, and scar at his side, and he lets it distract him easily. he turns to press a kiss to the corner of scar's mouth, cooing against the skin in a purr-like way. "i won." 

it doesn't seem entirely important now, but a part of him is still overjoyed at his accomplishment. 

--

SCAR/KANE

“You did!” Scar wraps a lazy arm around Grian, proud as hell, and steals a quick kiss before Kane can gag again.

Kane does no such thing, left frozen mid-laugh when he got whacked by a brightly colored wing. It’s something he’s done so freely before, but never Grian. He’s only ever seen Grian emote so openly with his wings around Scar, usually privately, when they think no one is looking— no one is perceiving. 

Kane actively swallows down the knee-jerk comment he had about Grian’s wings feeling soft. “You won,” he concedes instead, finding himself shockingly pleased by that reality. Not that he’s ever truly been a sore loser— it’s all for show, for fun, for humor— but he’s never been so genuinely happy to have lost.

Grian deserves a win.

(They’ve both lost enough.)

--

GRIAN

grian coos and perks up at kane's acknowledgement, catching something soft in his tone that makes everything feel that much sweeter. he rolls over, getting closer to him, supporting himself on his elbows. his eyes are dark and bright, his wings still outstretched. (there's a faint ache there, muscles unused to this, but it feels good in a way very few things have felt lately.) (he stretches them a bit more, tipping his head back and closing his eyes as the tension between his shoulder blades unknots.)

"you're drunk," he accuses kane, then pushes the chicken toy into his chest. "hold this." 

without any explanation, he shifts himself back into scar's orbit, kissing at his jaw and making tiny bird sounds. "share," he prompts, hand reaching to paw at his bottle.

--

SCAR/KANE

“I’m not— oh.” Kane takes the ugly toy, enamored by it in a way he certainly wasn’t when it was first handed to him by a fellow vex. 

Scar is loving watching Kane so much that the request takes him by surprise, and he giggles at the cute little sounds Grian is making. He’d let Grian take the whole bottle if he asks like that. “Here ya go.” Scar hands the bottle off with no fuss, then looks back over at Kane. “Take good care of Mr. Beak. That’s an honor.”

“Mister beak? Kane asks, incredulous, but with a similar tone that Scar had asked initially as well. “That’s— …ok, honestly, that’s pretty cute.”

“Hah! He has a heart!” Scar claps his hands together now that they’re both free. He never actually doubted that Kane was a softie at heart— he’s seen how sweet he is on Nico— but it’s refreshing to see him expand the list of people he’s willing to be like that around.

--

GRIAN

Grian's happy to have gotten the bottle, and he pulls himself up, relishing in this new triumph and barely paying attention to the conversation around him. He sits on his heels and drinks, letting the alcohol warm its path down his throat.

Once he's had sufficiently enough, he lowers the bottle, glancing at Kane. "Mr Beak is a perfectly acceptable name," he defends, belatedly.

But now that he's no longer lying down burrowed in blankets, his surroundings trickle in. They're not in a nest. They're on the ground, in the middle of a village, amidst drunk vex celebrations.

His wings are flared out, and they are grabbing attention, the violet hue like fire against the night. He thinks he hears someone make a comment about them. He doesn't recognise the voice. The words blur into the chatter, but more people are turning.

Unease crawls down his spine and with a quiet, unsteady chirp, his wings slowly draw back as he stays sitting, frozen to the spot under the unwelcome attention.

--

SCAR/KANE

Scar registers the shift immediately, and he sits himself up as well, slotting a wing behind Grian without directly touching, just shielding him from view to a certain degree. Scar’s method of protectiveness is quiet, like the soft purr that escapes him as he presses his shoulder against Grian’s, gentle and encouraging without needing to say a word.

Kane’s method, however, is much louder.

He springs to his feet when he catches the way Grian’s wings curl inward toward his spine, infuriated by this injustice and taking it out on all the other wandering eyes. 

“Oi!” Kane stomps in front of Grian, flaring out his wings in more of a show of power than an actual effective shield. “Mind your business, move along! Start of the race is back there, fellas!” 

He’s pointing accusingly, puffing his chest out in offense, though all of this downplayed by him holding the adorable chicken plushie in his other hand, tucking it close while he barks out commands.

And maybe it’s not the style of defense Scar would choose, always preferring subtlety and a level of deniability for Grian as to whether there was ever a  problem to begin with, but… this is so very Kane. 

It’s incredibly genuine. It’s surprisingly sweet. 

Scar wants to drag Kane right back down into this not-nest and hug him tightly until he inevitably gets kicked.

--

GRIAN

the night is dim around them, and yet grian feels like there's a blinding spotlight shining directly at him. his breath stutters in his chest, an urge to hide crawling over his skin in the most unpleasant, anxious way. 

he tenses up, swallowing down another chirp, but then scar's lightly pressing against him and everything in grian swivels helplessly towards the grounding of his presence. he pushes back, leaning into scar, hunching a little as he tries to make himself smaller. his wings and earwings alike are pressed flat down against him now, and he's vaguely aware of scar's wing hovering behind his back like a safety blanket—or a privacy curtain—shielding the violet from the world.

grian flinches a little as kane scrambles to stand in front of him, voice loud. but he quickly realises what the vex is doing, wings flared out and teeth bared at anyone who would dare to approach. (nobody is approaching.) (grian's overreacting.) (he's safe here.)

his heart swells at the protectiveness kane is displaying, the unquestionable way it was provided without hesitation. even if he's succeeding in drawing more attention, confused glances taking the three of them in. the crowds brush it off. someone laughs. but mostly, they turn and go. 

grian sits very still, shoulder pressed against scar and eyes glued to kane's back, trying to calm down the overreacting rapidness of his pulse as the two of them act as a buffer between him and the world.

but then someone does approach. 

"hey, kane, you lost," they remark, amused and friendly and unbothered. "no need to take it out on us for watching it happen." they're holding a bottle, a pink scraggly ribbon tied to it. "for the winner, if you'd let me through." they flick the ribbon with their free hand, chuckling on a joke that's meant to be shared. "thought the colour might fit. cherry flavoured, this one. isn't it just perfect?" they sound slightly drunk, rambling about things too close to grian's wing colour, wanting to deliver the congratulation and the prize themselves, partially mostly just to tease kane over his loss. 

--

SCAR/KANE

Clearly even Scar had begun to forget his surroundings, because the presence of another vex sets him off, as if he didn’t expect another person’s voice to dare enter their space. His purr shifts into a low growl and his other wing flares out to its full length. (It’s the more broken one, so it’s hardly impressive, but the impact is still there.) Now acutely aware of where they are, every bit of Scar wants to react in such a vex manner, spurred on by Kane’s outburst as well, but with a huff of blue magic, Scar resists.

He needs to react in a Scar manner.

“Oh, I think Kane ought to be the one to present the prize, don’t you?” Scar jeers, acting as though it’s to aid in embarrassing Kane. “He’s getting so good at this second place thing.” Scar smiles at the approaching vex, but his eyes are narrowed dangerously, making it clear that there is no room for disagreement here.

Kane spins around, hands on his hips in offense as he sputters, but one look at Scar makes it clear to him that he’s on the defense here. He wants to shout back at Scar, but there’s some kind of silent plea here, something that stifles the fire inside of him just enough to get an almost calm answer.

“Yeah, give me that, punk,” Kane says, contradicting the idea of him needing to be humbled here, but that’s unimportant. He yanks the bottle from the other vex’s hand and begins to shove at them with his wings. “Now scram, this is a private affair. I’ll kick your ass.”

--

GRIAN

grian remains pressed against scar, his wings twitching at the mention of the colours. he can't help the helpless feeling that sinks its claws into him, unbidden and wrong. he can't push it down enough to make his heart stop racing, feeling frustration well up in him. he doesn't want to be this weak. he doesn't want to feel like this.

the alcohol, even in the smaller quantity that he's drunk so far, doesn't help him get a hold on his emotions. doesn't help him stop feeling like he's ruining everything. like he's clearly overreacting and messing up a fun event. 

but scar and kane don't complain, chastise, or belittle him for it. they're not telling him there's no reason to feel the way he does. they're there for him, protecting him, standing up for him. 

grian's fingers curl into the blanket underneath him, holding tightly in an attempt to make the tremble go away. if the other vex approaches, he'll be okay. he'll be fine, it's alright, it's alright.

(attention on his wings. bright violet and hungry eyes. inquisitive, curious, wanting.) (awe and greed. a tidally rising interest.) (moths to a flame. except grian's the moth, and they're the flames, surrounding him, crowding him, threatening to burn him alive.) 

he manages a shaky breath, trying to tune in and listen to what's actually happening. kane is grabbing the bottle and shoving the vex away. scar is still right next to grian, his stable rock, his safe dock, his unfailing shield.

grian tries, desperately, to play along. to get over himself and get on with this. "oh, is that my prize?" he asks, going for teasing and falling completely flat. his voice is unsteady and it's so painfully audible, he instantly shuts up, jaw tensing. 

--

SCAR/KANE

Scar smiles at Kane, grateful for his restraint and willingness to play along. His expression loses some of its tension, relaxing further when Grian tries to speak as well, even if it’s an obvious struggle. The tip of his wing tilts forward and drapes itself over Grian’s shoulder, only making contact there, offering an ounce more of comfort.

“Yes, and Kane is going to deliver it to you personally!” Scar claims, still glaring over at the other vex until he’s certain they are leaving. 

“Uh huh,” Kane says, strained, fumbling with the humility now that he no longer needs to lash out. 

He kneels down, sighing softly (with a hint of blue, which is uncommon for him to do). His eyes are downcast as he recalibrates, but when he looks up he’s got a crooked smile on his face again, smacking Scar gently with his wing. 

“For you, who definitely didn’t cheat, tooootally, not at all.” Kane is mocking the sort of sing song tone Scar would use, and it makes Scar choke on a bark of laughter, not expecting it. Kane sticks out his tongue, then hands Grian the bottle, nodding at Scar to take his own back. 

Kane also holds out the chicken toy. 

“…Mr. Beak liked it when you showed off your wings,” Kane mumbles, face suddenly very hot. His ears droop low when he flushes, suddenly struggling to speak. “H-he says… um.”

All aggression leaves Scar in an instant, thrilled at this development. “He says that Kane took good care of him! And that Kane promised he’d bite anyone that so much as looks at you wrong,” Scar finishes with a goofy grin. It turns soft and genuine almost immediately, however, as he looks at Kane with newfound appreciation.

--

GRIAN

grian feels a sliver of stability as scar's wing touches his shoulder and he watches the other vex scurry away. he takes a breath, not quite realising how much he needed to do that, a deep and proper one, tasting tentative, tricky relief.

then his gaze jumps to kane, who's now kneeling down.

grian wishes this really was a nest. he wishes this interruption did not happen. he wishes he could've kept them all happy and goofy and—

and maybe that's a silly thought, because kane's grinning and he lets out a quip, and grian really should stop catastrophising about all of this. 

still a bit stunned, he reaches for the bottle, the ribbon on it a washed out pink. he tries not to look at it too closely, not to think about it too much, not to sink into what the other vex said about its colour. his earwings flick, nervous but so clearly looser, now that they're moving instead of remaining pinned tight. 

he places the bottle at his knees, leaning it slightly against himself to keep it upright, as kane offers the plushie next and keeps talking.

grian's reach is much more needy this time, grabbing at the toy, instantly bringing it to his chest in a tight hold, craving the comfort it provides. but his eyes stay on kane, watching the blush on his face, and almost wincing at the mention of the wings, but— oh. 

kane being this flustered is oddly endearing, and grian finds himself appreciative of all of his efforts. the words slink gently around him, that suggestion that it was good that grian showed off his wings, that kane (well, mr beak, he says, but grian sees right through it) liked it. 

with a small coo, grian unfurls his wings just the littlest bit. feathers rustle, still safely shielded by scar's wing, something in him wrangling and contemplating this. 

but they're still out in the open, in an area far from private, blankets pooled around them without being a nest at all. grian keeps himself on the other side of the line now, safe in its familiarity, unwilling to draw the barely dispersed attention back in this moment.

but it felt good.

it felt good to spread his wings. to use them, even if only a little bit. to be free with them.

he swallows thickly. "... i liked it too," he admits, unsteadily. the words feel like trapdoors ready to open underneath his feet and let him plunge. it feels dangerous to say this. wrong, even. but he finishes it off with a nervous smile, a grateful little thing that wants to be playful as well, to make this all feel lighter than it is. "i'll take you up on that offer. you might have a lot of biting to do," he warns. 

he dips his arms with the plushie, lets it sit in his lap.

and maybe it's the alcohol. maybe it's him being sappy in this moment, after what's just happened. maybe he's just sentimental. but he reaches for the bottle and untangles the pink ribbon from it, hesitating only briefly at the insanely impulsive idea.

he takes a breath and lets himself succumb; he reaches for kane's hand, without any explanation, even if his touch is questioning and shy, nonverbally asking for permission to grab him and tug his arm closer.

--

SCAR/KANE

Scar hums at Grian’s meek agreement, happy to take it. “We can split the biting between us, don’t worry,” he assures, and Kane snorts, but doesn’t complain.

“Yeah, tonight’s about lettin’ loose and stuff, so— whuh?” Kane meets Grian partway, scooting in a little closer to offer up his hand to the avian freely. He’s not sure what he’s doing here, but he feels like the moth now, drawn to Grian and his brightly colored feathers that dare to peek out from behind him once more— drawn to that sharp bout of laughter and sweet little chirp as Grian welcomed him into some private, intimate thing that Kane can’t quite put a name to. 

(Scar knows. It’s flock.)

--

GRIAN

Grian hums, something focused as Kane relents and offers his hand freely. Grian's hold on him is careful, so very harmless and safe. 

And then he wraps the ribbon around Kane's wrist.

He feels his cheeks warm as he's aware of just what this gesture means. His gaze flits up, meeting Kane's only in the very briefest way, shy as it instantly flicks away. His hands squeeze a little, thumbs brushing the fabric, before he lets go.

"You match us now." 

Grian looks over at Scar, eyes meeting the flash of violet that hangs from his ear, that spot of colour that ties him to Grian. And the ribbon around Kane's wrist is a tamer shade, a pink thing, but it still feels like it counts.

Grian's gaze anchors on Scar, and he chirps in the quietest way, seeking affirmation that this is okay. That his reckless, impulsive action is approved by his mate.

--

SCAR/KANE

Scar’s eyes crease joyfully as he purrs softly in response to Grian, keeping their exchange nonverbal as he awaits Kane’s reaction to the gift. He knows Kane’s much less of a sucker for sentiment than he is, but surely even the frostiest of hearts would melt at the gesture, if not just for the care in which it was offered. 

Scar reaches his hand to slide over Grian’s as it returns, thumb brushing over his sleeve to touch at the fabric that still rests there as well.

(He approves. He very much approves.)

Kane stares at his own wrist, turning it up and around several times as if it would then reveal its secrets to him. 

It’s a ribbon. Why a ribbon? Why is Grian so timid to offer up something so utterly silly?

Kane feels like he ought to understand, but all he knows is that this is something, but what exactly? Why does he feel so honored to have a scraggly piece of plasticy fabric tied to his hand right now?

“I… match?” he asks, looking up at Grian with confused, round eyes. He looks to Scar as well, drawn to the earring like Grian was, trying to see what he saw. Kane’s eyebrows furrow, trying to solve this puzzle that’s been tied around his wrist. “You… have you always had that?” Kane asks suddenly, pointing at the ribbon on Grian’s wrist as Scar exposes it. 

--

GRIAN

Scar's purr and fingers sneaking to expose and touch the ribbon settle Grian immensely. He leans his shoulder against him, his free hand loosely curling around Mr Beak in his lap, feeling content.

He jolts a little at Kane's question, attention drawn to a possession that's incredibly precious to Grian, his tether and his lifeline. His eyes widen and earwings flap as he straightens up, cheeks smeared with pink under the scattering of freckles. 

"... Yeah." He looks down at his own ribbon, then back up, searching Kane's expression. The puzzled frown he sees there sets him at unease, worried that maybe his gesture translated wrong. "It was a gift," he adds, a little bit meekly, about the ribbon around his own wrist.

--

SCAR/KANE

Kane manages to connect some of the dots from there. It’s a gift from Scar, surely, considering the way he’s running his fingers over it so tenderly. (Sap.) And considering what little the two of them must have had to actually offer in the way of gifts for so long… maybe a ribbon isn’t so silly.

“I love it,” Kane states abruptly, clasping his other hand over the ribbon like someone would possibly threaten to take it. 

--

GRIAN

Grian blinks, so visibly perking up it's almost comical. A chirp slips past his self control, wings flaring out slightly (finding Scar and his wing to press against, but not minding the confines of the safety he provides in the slightest). 

"You do?" He's so obviously relieved and happy about it. He beams, looks at Scar to share the little triumph. "He likes it!"

The bird part of Grian is giddy, running on affirmation that this action was good and accepted. 

Grian can't change the colour of his wings, but Scar displays it proudly as he wears the earring, and now Kane has a similar colour tied to his wrist, and he likes it, and Grian feels a helpless, warm fuzz settle over him. 

Maybe the violet isn't so bad, if it's a colour that connects them.

--

SCAR/KANE/NICO

Kane recoils a bit, mostly out of pure fluster, not used to seeing Grian so openly giddy like this. It’s throwing him off his rhythm here with how painfully adorable it is. And now Scar is grinning at him, too, and—

“You guys are a bunch of saps!” Kane protests, but he still holds onto the ribbon tightly, pulling the hand with it toward his chest, cradling it like a sentimental fool.

“Yep,” Scar agrees easily, popping his lips on the end of the word as he smiles, wide and toothy. He squeezes at Grian’s hand. “You love it.”

It’s a purposeful twist of Kane’s words, that he loves them by loving the gift. It’s not inaccurate at all. 

“I— you—“ Kane’s eyes flick between the two of them, trapped by their eager expressions and intimate rituals. Desperately, he latches onto a pair of brown eyes approaching from behind, pleading pathetically. “Nico, helpppppp! They’re tormenting me!”

Nico snorts as he fumbles over, three bottles in hand: his own, Grian’s, and Kane’s. Kane hardly looks like he actually requires any assistance, so he smiles smugly instead of offering any. “Am I interrupting something here?” Nico asks, tilting his head curiously at the three winged fools sitting in a bed of blankets.

--

GRIAN/NICO

Grian giggles at the development, not protesting being called a sap and happily letting Scar deal with that remark—only eliciting more laughter out of him. There's no sign of the previous anxiety, the worries forgotten with Scar's wing still hovering over Grian's back.

When Kane yells for Nico, Grian's earwings twitch and he looks over, following his line of sight. He sees Nico approach, unhurried despite Kane's desperate plea, arms full.

Grian grins toothily. "I won."

Nico chuckles. "Figured."

Grian's grin grows, impossibly proud and triumphant, ignoring Kane's sputters at the insinuation that his mate was not expecting him to win.

"We're busy bonding," Grian adds cheekily in lieu of explanation of their lateness, and as a reply to Nico's inquiry.

Nico gasps. "Without me?" And he wants to grasp at his chest dramatically. Which he obviously can't do with an armful of bottles. They all almost fall out of his grasp and he scrambles to catch them and readjust his hold. "And I've been so good guarding your drinks and all!" he whines, ears flicking downwards, but he doesn't seem to entirely mind. It's rare to see them so relaxed, and he doesn't think he's ever seen Grian beaming this much.

Nico's gaze flicks to Scar. "I do think we ought to get your mate drunk more often," he chuckles, warm and lighthearted with his tease. 

--

SCAR/KANE

“Psh,” Scar disagrees, trying to match the easygoing attitude instead of getting defensive like he did before. “We’re hardly drunk. If anything we ought to get your mate drunk more often!” When Kane growls out some pointless protest, Scar continues, “He’s actually out here enjoying second place.”

“Am not!” Kane rejects, puffing out his chest and wings alike. He reaches out his hand for his bottle, which Nico gladly hands off to him, laughing. 

“Really? Because you sure seemed to like your prize,” Scar teases, regarding him with such a kind, genuine smile that even Kane can’t seem to form a coherent argument to. 

Scar then presents Grian with that same expression, quietly checking in with how he’s faring after that open and vulnerable display.

--

GRIAN/NICO

Grian's enjoying the banter—and yet, in a way, it feels strange. It feels normal but normalcy doesn't feel normal anymore, so it instead feels like something askew he was not meant to get his hands on anymore.

And maybe he'd follow that thread until everything would unravel around him, but... Not now. Not with the warmth in his veins and Scar by his side and a pink ribbon around Kane's wrist.

Grian catches Scar's smile and offers one in return, his wing pressing lightly against Scar's side, for once not shying away from contact. 

Today is a wild night, it seems. 

"Oh, you got a prize?" Nico blinks at Kane, confused. "For second place?"

--

SCAR/KANE/NICO

Kane feels so weirdly defensive about this ribbon, almost resisting pulling his hand away from his chest, but it’s Nico, so of course he gives in. “From Grian!” Kane announces, holding out his hand palm up to show it off.

Nico squats down, looking over the scrap of twisty fabric curiously. Unlike Kane, he has noticed Grian’s ribbon before, though he’s never inquired about it. “…it’s very pink,” he says, grinning when Kane pinches his fingers together to flick at Nico’s cheek. “It suits you! It’s cute!”

“It’s not cute!” Kane protests, and he brings the hand back to his chest with a huff. “It’s— it… it’s special!” 

Nico laughs again, and so does Scar, because that’s hardly any less embarrassing to say, but gosh if he doesn’t love Kane regarding it in such a valuable manner. Scar leans his head onto Grian’s shoulder, letting the feathered earring brush over his cheek as he rests it there. 

It is special. Gifts from Grian are of the highest caliber.

--

GRIAN/KANE/NICO

grian's watching the whole exchange with rapt attention, slightly tense, waiting to see the reception. he coos under his breath, surprised and pleased when kane defends the ribbon and calls it special—a sound that gets completely drowned out by nico's and scar's laughter. a tangle of messy instincts keeps tripping him up, but at least right now, it's in a good way. it makes him feel warm and settled. 

scar leans in and grian startles a little, too focused on the ribbon around kane's wrist, but he welcomes the closeness immediately, nuzzling lightly against scar in appreciation. 

nico, in the meanwhile, laughs out an "aw", but then he follows it up with an attempt at a pout. "and i don't get anything? you guys ditched me and exchanged gifts and i get nothing?"

there's a slight pause that grian was meant to fill—it was his victory ribbon he gave to kane, after all. he was the one giving gifts. but he fails entirely to come up with an answer, feeling a vague sense of guilt for excluding nico, a complicated onslaught of confused instincts that don't really know where to go from here.

kane flicks his gaze to grian, then back at nico, taking over. "hey! it's only for second place winners! you didn't win second place!"

nico chuckles. "didn't know second place has winners."

kane puffs out his chest. "well, it does! the reward has a limited stock!" he taps his wrist. "you can't have it. i earned it."

"by losing," nico laughs brightly, enjoying teasing his mate, but then he presses, amused. "so you're saying if i end up in second place next time, i can earn it?"

kane rolls his eyes. "it's not just that." he doesn't exactly understand, and he can't talk for grian, but he knows the answer isn't that simple. 

nico's relentless. tipsy and intrigued. "what else?" 

grian speaks up, all of a sudden: "threatening to bite people."

nico's eyes light up. "oooh, are we biting people?"

--

SCAR/NICO

Scar chips in eagerly, “Yes! Biting people that look at Grian funny. We can use all the help we can get.”

Nico is quick with his retort, smiling wryly at Scar and Grian. “By that logic, I ought to bite you, Scar.”

Scar purrs against Grian’s shoulder, lower and possessive this time. “Try it. See what happens,” he warns, but he’s still smiling, teasing lightly and nuzzling into Grian all the same.

--

GRIAN

grian laughs a little, immensely comforted by scar's closeness, letting it ground him. he lifts his hand up, brushing it over scar's ear in a small loving gesture. "no biting the pink gang," he chastises. 

but nico is not in the pink gang. not by the made-up rules, anyway.

so grian takes a breath and squirms a little, trying to look at scar. "scar, can we— do you want to do the couples race?"

--

SCAR/KANE/NICO

“Sure, sure!” Scar cheers, giggling softly at the touch to his ear. It’s a good feeling, being among friends and being so openly gushy toward one another. Scar’s always loved the idea of flustering his partner to no end with his public displays of affection, and it’s about time he gets to do so. 

Scar leans in and kisses below Grian’s ear, then blows a little air over the spot just to be obnoxious. 

“Lead the way, boys!” Scar says, snickering now, as he holds up a hand, expecting to be helped up.

Nico obliges him with a chuckle, even as Kane stumbles to his feet in an attempt to help as well. Nico’s grip is probably much more reliable than Kane’s right about now.

----------

fun bonus screenshots of things we said in between rp replies:

[autistme]

geoff...

[gurlgallade]

*Uses find-and-replace to see if the word "fuck" appears in a Red chapter, to make sure it's tonally appropriate if it is*

*Find-and-replace immediately skips to the title of Blue's next chapter*

Yeah, they're probably in-character.

[trepidmousetears]

Me, playing Breath of the Wild: "Am I supposed to shoot the vault with the rock???"

3 seconds later

"OH MY GOD I KILLED YUNOBO-"

[pastelaspirations]

hello! first i just wanna say ur stories r really neat n have have inspired me a lot! soo I remember when reading perseverance u mentioned a couple of times in the notes bout some of the songs u listened to while writing the chapters so would it be alr if u dropped all the songs u think goes w the story? (u don have to ofc I jus think it's interesting how u might perceive them as songs) much love to u n ur creative mind 💞

Awwww, thank you!! <3 <3 I'm glad I could inspire you! That's what I want to do with my stories! :D

Okay, so. U m. This is uh. A very interesting question. First off, I am. Very surprised people actually pay attention to those, I didn't know if people did or not- XD

Second. Um. Are you s u r e you want me to drop all the songs that I think goes with the story-

There might... be way more than you think.

And that's not including the 3 unlisted ones that I can't remember what they were/don't have the heart to remove from the list. Also, it's a playlist that... includes any song that inspired me ever. For any fic that I made. Not just Perseverance.

I don't think you actually want me to drop all of these on you, man-

[coquelicoq]

it's interesting, a few people on my post yesterday about the dandelion dynasty told me they were taking it as a rec for the series, but i didn't actually recommend the series in that post. it's making me think about whether i would rec it to people, a question i hadn't fully considered yet (as it is a very different question from "do i like this book?"). so this is me figuring out the answer to that question. i'll keep it spoiler-free (though i make no promises on brevity).

i just finished book 3 (of 4) and each installment has left me more invested than i was before, but the series started out very slow, and i didn't really get into it until halfway through book 2. i wouldn't be surprised if a lot of people bounce off the first book; i didn't, but only because 1) i almost never give up on a book that i've started (it's a character flaw of mine 😕) and 2) my trust in ken liu is ridiculously high because the other stuff i've read by him is so beloved to me. so my reaction to feeling kind of meh about book 1 was "okay, let's see where he's going with this" rather than "i guess this just isn't my cup of tea."

i should say that the problem might just be my own ignorance/lack of familiarity with the form. i don't read a lot of epic fantasy - in fact, lord of the rings is the one series that i have given up on reading a couple of times because it just left me totally indifferent. so if you like epics, you are starting out way ahead of me and can maybe just ignore the rest of this post lol, but i think i had to adjust to what the form is asking of me and what it's best suited to accomplish before i could get fully on board.

the main thing i struggled with is the writing, like the actual sentence-level mechanics of voice and style. this surprised me, because i usually find his writing very beautiful, or, when not beautiful, i can get a sense of the effect he means to achieve by employing a certain style. but in this series, the writing came across as kind of awkward and one-note to me at first, and i couldn't see a reason for it to be that way.* the dialogue especially - different characters don't really have different ways of speaking, they all feel pretty much the same. this was one of the main things i had to adjust to, but i do get it now. i don't just mean that i got used to the style and it doesn't bother me anymore, though that is true; i mean that i now understand the effect he means to achieve by employing this style, which gives it purpose and inextricably ties it to the story he's telling (this becomes especially clear in book 3, as it's directly related to a major theme of that book). if the style were different, he would be telling a different story; that's the sign of a successful execution, i think.

i said in the tags on yesterday's post that one reason the series doesn't have much of a fandom on here might be that the characters aren't natural blorbos. of course every character is probably the blorbo of somebody somewhere, but i don't know that these characters were designed to be blorbos, if that makes sense. not that they're plot devices either! every single one of them is conflicted and complicated and compelling, and most of them are followed over a period of many years, so we see them develop as people over time. but there is no protagonist, for example. you could also say that every character is a protagonist. the "list of major characters" at the beginning of book 3 is six pages long, and there are stories to be told about each of these characters, and none of them are told in isolation. but in a way, the characters themselves are not the point, or if they are, it's in aggregate - it's in the ways they're all complex, the ways they all have motivations that make sense to them (and that make sense to us, once we get to know them). and it's about power and the roles that the characters play in their society, rather than the roles the characters play in the story. or maybe those are the same thing! because ultimately, the main character of this story is the society. and the plot is the history of this society, rather than the journey or life of a single person or handful of people.**

(sidenote, there will be a period during book 1 when you will think to yourself, "wow, all the women characters are super one-dimensional and the narrative doesn't seem to respect them." this is on purpose. just keep going.)

the plotting is intricate while also feeling very organic. he's got dozens of plates in the air at once, he's maintaining them over a long period (these books are MASSIVE), and he's somehow making it seem like a real history, not like an author pulling strings. i haven't finished it yet, but my guess is that he's going to pull off a very satisfying conclusion that's at the same time very open-ended. definitely looking forward to it.

and the worldbuilding. oh, the worldbuilding. this is some of the most detailed, complex, realistic*** worldbuilding i've ever encountered, and he covers SO much ground. you want linguistic worldbuilding? you got it. philosophy? it's here. psychology of empire? coming right up. the nitty-gritty of everyday governance? buddy, pull up a chair. mechanical engineering? how much time you got?? (it better be enough time to read 3504 physical pages, because that's how long this series is.) and he's drawing on chinese history and cultural narratives rather than slapping lipstick on a tolkien clone (see his comments here, but stop reading at "In this continuation of the series" if you want to avoid spoilers). he WILL go on for a hundred pages about a single invention, but it's SO interesting that he is allowed. this is a story about how technology (including language, and schools of thought, and agriculture, and...) shapes, and is a product of, its time and place and people, so again, this is all to purpose. but it's also just. really cool.

the last thing i'll say, and this is mainly for other ken liu fans, is that one of the things i most love about his short stories is how they tap into emotions i didn't even know i had, as though they're reaching inside of me and drawing to the surface ways of experiencing consciousness and love and mortal life that i had no idea were in there. this series is not causing emotional revelation for me in the way his other stories do, which isn't a bad thing - i don't mean to say the series is not engaging or that it inspires no emotions! i just mean, iykyk. if you've read the paper menagerie and are expecting that experience, you will have a better time here if you leave those expectations at the door. i am invested in this book because it's engaging my intellect, curiosity, sense of wanting to find out what else the characters will learn and what's going to happen next...less because it's turning my heart inside out inside my chest. and like thank goodness, because i don't think i could survive four entire 900-page books' worth of that! but anyway. word to the wise.

tl;dr: yes, i recommend it, especially if you like epic fantasy. if you're a fan of ken liu's other work, this is quite different, so just know that going in!

*this opinion is of course subjective and not universally shared. for instance, see this review of book 3 (full of spoilers, so don't actually read it lol) which says "There's Liu's voice to hold onto, though — beautifully deployed here and fully in command of the language of his imaginary universe." so ymmv. maybe it's an epic fantasy thing.

**this is making me realize that the story is commenting on this very thing through a tension between bureaucracy (founded on interchangeability) and monarchy (informed by a specific personality). dude. that's so meta!

***though sometimes i'm like, "really? you scaled up that invention to use untested on the battlefield in the span of like two weeks? sure, jan." so sometimes he falls down a little on translation of ideas into logistics, but it makes for such a great story that i'll allow it.

[fairyarmour]

Been loving nintendo’s new dress up game :)

Here’s the outfit I had Link running around in while constantly feeding him red pepper based cuisine for a real life week because apparently the economy is in shambles and one pair of pants is worth not just an arm but a leg too. Anyway I’m gonna go back to chasing a dragon underground now.

[waywardsalt]

they shouldve put bellum in ssbu as a spirit. come on

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

I'm being so normal about my code and definitely didn't just almost cry (positive) upon confirming that I successfully linked my JS file in my HTML file with a relative path and it runs exactly as expected

[bendybutnot]

I hate the fact that I'm actually gonna post something, but I know if I don't say something, nobody's ever gonna know but me and then I'm gonna forget and this'll never be known and I'll never (possibly) write it 👹...

SO. YKNOW HOW MASK IS USUALLY PORTRAYED TO BE A LIL GREMLIN IN EVERY SINGLE FIC?

HELL, HE MOST LIKELY *IS* JUST CANONLY A GREMLIN, IF I GO BY REMEMBERING THE OOT MANGA. I CAN'T REMEMBER MUCH OF THE MAJORA'S MASK ONE THO, I HAVE TO REREAD IT TO BE SURE

BUT ANYWAYS, ANYWAYS, HEAR ME OUT.

GREGORY IS USUALLY WRITTEN TO BE A GREMLIN IN FICS, HE TECHNICALLY *IS* A GREMLIN IN SECURITY BREACH

MASK IS USUALLY WRITTEN TO BE A GREMLIN, AND HE MOST LIKELY IS A GREMLIN IN THE COMICS

I KNOW PEOPLE DON'T REALLY LIKE SECURITY BREACH ALL THAT MUCH BECAUSE THEY WERE DISAPPOINTED CAUSE IT WASN'T VERY SCARY? BUT HEAR ME OUT, SECURITY BREACH AU. MASK IS GREGORY IN THIS CASE, WARRIORS COULD BE FREDDY IN THIS CASE, AND THEN THE REST COULD BE WHOEVER THE HELL YOU WANT

I suck at writing and copying personalities too, so even if I wanted to write this by myself, it would suck 💀!!!!!

I'VE GOT MORE IDEAS, BUT IF I DIDN'T JUST GET THE GENERAL CONCEPT OUT SOMEWHERE, I KNOW I'D FORGET ANYWAYS.

But please.......I beg...... someone has to write this....(not unless they want to ofc!, I'm just getting it out before I forget, and I feel it's too good to just keep for myself idk 👍)

[storfulsten]

oooh my gloomybear corpse collab shirt arrived today aaand a new corpse song dropped fuck yeah today was a good day <3

[oathkeeperoxas]

I know I said I would comment on all the fics that are open in my tabs as my first fandom task of 2023 but oh god. oh my god. there are so many. there is so much fic. why did I let this all pile up over the last 6 months

[im-a-goddamn-cat]

sorry i change my url so much. it WILL happen again