#live tumblr posting through rooks rest

[robynnnn311]

these dragon scenes are hitting me worse than i expected them to the scene of sunfyre nuzzling aegon meleys and rhaenys hugging vhagar in the grass im so ill right now

[felassan]

Hi 😊

I may have missed, so apologies if I did, recently returning to Tumblr after a long hiatus. I'm wondering if/hoping you found DATV satisfactory? If I recall, your Inquisitor was team Stop Solas? I'm happily living in Redeem Solas la-la land.

hello! ◕‿◕ and welcome back and thanku for asking! rest of post under cut due to spoilers.

yes I did! I enjoyed it!! I hope you also enjoyed your time playing through the game? and I'm happy that you liked the ending you chose (´∪`*)

yes (unfortunately for me and my heart 💀..), my Inquisitor believed that Solas had to be Stopped at all costs and vowed to do so in 9:44. I've played out all of the DA:TV endings and found 'redeem/convince him to stop' (which I fulfilled the requirements for in my first playthrough) to be v v emotional and moving, at once beautiful and sad. this goes for the 'Lavellan reunites' and 'Lavellan does not reunite' permutations both. made me ugly cry fr 🥺 based on the way I built my Inquisitor and then subsequently (unfortunately for me and my heart again ig lmaoo) my Rook to be tho, the 'canon' (in my worldstate only I mean!!) ending to this saga in my own Thedas was Trick, the Dread Wolf outfoxed. ouughh (⁠´⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠ω⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠｀⁠) _(:3」∠)_

[bird-of-burdock]

Emmrich Volkarin X !Elf!Fem!Rook(Sadri)

• SFW• Slow Burn•

~~~~

Author note: I am soooo clueless when it comes to dragon age lore so I apologize  for lore inconsistencies ToT I'm just a lass that wants  to write goofy shit, I'm so sorry if this is beyond cringey to read for big DA fans.

Also for any late readers this was written before the game came out. 

I have never posted my writing before nor do i write much I'm sorry if it's awful. Also im very new to tumblr.

~~~

Lost Through Another's Eyes

The ever-lingering sense of death permeated every inch of the Grand Necropolis. It was not rot that Sadri could feel, but the indescribable stillness of cells' lack of copulation, an unchanging presence.  Many non-Mortalitasi who set foot in this sanctuary of decay had felt dread grip at their throat, their minds revolting, as if without a thought by nature they knew the countless dead that lay inside. Sadri however found divinity in this stillness, an ever beckoning urge to be engulfed by the very concept of placidity.

Sadri gently dusted the tombs and bones of the long-deceased. Each of her soft steps and melodic humming echoed dancing down the cold stone corridors of the Mausoleum. The dark sediment walls cascaded up as if reaching for the heavens, ancient and cracked.

‘I suppose I should return to Dr.Volkarin's study soon,’ Sadri wondered to herself, being pulled away from her mindless contentment of moments before. Sadri had often wandered the halls of the dead, its solitary environment provided her with much-needed reprieve. The dead were always far more frank than those walking among the living, perhaps they had spent too long wasting their breath on pleasantries in life to willingly squander more, she thought. 

It had only been a few months since her benefactor had sent her to work under the well-respected Emmrich Volkarin. A slender older man, with a trove of necromaniac knowledge Sadri found herself drawn to. He knew much of the mentality and nature of those no longer living, it was easy to be enamored by his long-winded rants on the topic.

“There you are. What a relief.” A man's voice yanked Sadri's focus back from the depths of her own musings.

“Oh!” Sadri's shoulders jumped at his voice. “Dr.Volkarin, I apologize if I've taken too long,” Sadri was quick to turn to face him with a shallow guilty bow and a benignly apathetic tone. 

The bow was unusual in Nevarra, it came across almost fearful to Volkarin, and always had left him with a vague sense of concern and unease when she did it.

“Please Ms.Sadri pick up your head. I merely came down here to ensure you were well. I'm aware you're relatively new, these halls go on for miles, I'd rather you not join the collection down here as of yet,”

Emmrich's voice softened, culpability pricked his conscience for startling the poor woman.

Sadri seemed to get lost in thought once again for a moment. An awkward silence fell upon the two, not an uncommon occurrence.

“I would not protest to such a fate, would be a fine place to lay in rest, I suppose,” Sadri retorted plainly as she looked around at their dreary surroundings as if it was no different than a warm cabin in a fertile Hinterland field. 

Emmrich chuckled at her innocently forthright nature. 

“Perhaps one day, but hopefully today is not the day. Come, I need your assistance,” Volkarin turned on his heels and began back to his office.

The Grand Necropolis was exceedingly large the walk back was inconvenient to say the least. Sadri felt a tinge of iniquity for causing  Dr. Volkarin to worry enough for him to come all the way down there to retrieve her.

“ I've been studying the line between memories and cohesive identity with the few skulls you see there,” The two walked into Emmrich's study, he spoke well pointing to three human skulls lined up on a table near his work desk. Placed comfortably upon a cushion.

Dr.Volkarin’s study was extravagantly decorated by some standards, innate wood carvings on every furniture and furnishing. Trinkets and tools on display like trophies. No wall lay bare without a painting or fixture. Something about it brought comfort to Sadri, there was always something to look at and ponder about.

“I'll brew us some tea to discuss the finer details of the experiment,” Emmrich's walk had an hastened edge to it, his mind seemed preoccupied. 

Sadri had a feeling he felt a bit stuck in his research. She could feel his stress seep through the tapping of his nails against the counter as he waited for the kettle to boil.

“I see, what can I do to be of aid?” Sadri asked, warily sitting down in one of the arm chairs. 

“Good question my dear. Lord Karthal had sent you to me for a reason. You seem well acquainted with my work now, so I believe it may be time to begin our research. I hear your particular talents may prove useful,” Emmrich spoke candidly as he poured the tea until he glanced at the Elven woman who sat quietly a few paces away.

Sadri had tensed up at Dr. Volkarin's words, eyes locked someplace else. Emmrich was a bit taken aback by the reaction. Though subtle her discomfort seemed undeniable. Sadri opened her mouth but it took her a moment before words came out.

“Very well,” She agreed in plain of a voice as she could muster.

Emmrich was quick to follow up her statement,“ You don't have to if you don't wish, it’s not every day you meet an individual with the ability to abstract cohesive memory from bones let alone a corpse, by touch. I won't push you but your talents are greatly appreciated.”

Emmrich felt eager to continue his work, after all this strange elven woman was sent here to aid the development of this field of research. Though Emmrich would be lying to himself if he didn't admit his suspicions of this young lady's circumstances. An elven woman with extraordinary gifts related to death magic brought in by a Mortalitasi house Lord known for his Tevinter connections. Not the most innocent of setups he thought. He knew he didn't have the full picture, so he often made an effort to not to push her.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll do it. What are you targeting?” Sadri’s voice was ever so slightly more distant than usual. Emmrich placed a cup of tea on the table in front of the pale-haired elf, before taking a seat himself. 

“ Targeting? Anything to be frank, I have yet to see your work, so I’d like to get a feel for your skillset before we delve into specifics,” Emmrich said matter factly only to be followed by a sip of his tea. Sadri had been his assistant for a few months, but mostly she spent that time studying up on his methods and theories, he had hope itd give her a better ground work to build off of. He still had little idea if she had nothing more than a silver tongue for spirits or a genuine unique form of death magic.

Lord Karthal was insistent Sadri would be of academic value, but he had yet to see. It wasn’t that he disliked her, on the contrary, she was endearing to a degree, but strangely hard to predict. 

“I ask merely because, um the method I use can be overwhelming without a focus,” Sadri avoided eye contact, looking down into her tea, gingerly stroking the rim of the cup with her thumb.

“I understand, you can choose whatever focus you see fit then,” Emmrich said with intrigue, he assumed she meant a memory focus.

The two finished their tea in relative silence before Sadri stood up empty tea cup in hand.

“Are you done?” The elf spoke softly, 

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Emmrich replied as she delicately took the cup from his hands and walked it over to the basin. 

Emmrich walked over to the set of skulls near his work desk. He examined the bone as his thoughts wondered. There was a prick of nervousness, he had originally felt quite sure of encouraging Sadri to use her magic on the skulls moments before, but her reaction was unlike her eagerness to learn of his necromaniac work.

Sadri's faint steps approached him.

Volkarin turned and looked down at the elf.

Her hands modestly clasped infront of her. Her dark eyes finally meeting his gaze.

Emmrich found her sudden eye contact foreboding.

“Are you ready?” Emmrich said stepping aside to give Sadri full access to the remains

Sadri did not reply as she approached the skulls. She tenderly lifted one up, her touch woven with care. She looked deep into the empty eye sockets, caressed the rim of its cheek bone. 

‘Is she stalling?’ Emmrich's mind pondered as he intensely watched the sharp eared woman.

Sadri let out a sigh before every muscle in her body tensed. Her grip on the skull tightened as she muttered an airy melodic hymn beneath her breath, the air electrified and swirled around her. A pale blue light omitted from the empty eye sockets leaving an eerie ambience in its wake. Trails of light pierced Sadri's eyes, she let out a grunt of pain as the skull connected itself to the ivory haired woman. Deafening whispers seeped from the skull like a cracked chalice.

Sadri fell to her knees under the weight of memories of a life she'd never lived.

She could feel the soft grass give way beneath little feet, laughter carried on a hopeful breeze. A little girl dancing prettily in a sun dress and flushed cheeks at the sight. 

Sadri watched the sun rise and moon fall, feelings coming and growing. The little neighbor girl grew beside them, soon to stand hand in hand at the alter. Joy was overwhelming, there was no greater beauty than her smile. Time passed and so withered the mind and body. Dread began to trickle in ever  so slowly, ever so agonizing. 

Watching as illness gripped the family they had built. A once careless little girl in a sun dress turned to an emaciated woman, soon Sadri felt as blight dug at her throat and consumed her body.

Sadri’s consciousness began to weave into the man's memories, she desperately pushed it away as it clung to her eyes in anguish.

She let out a desperate plead

“Stop please! I don't want to see more!” Sadri's voice strained as she had lost all sense of the real world.

Then suddenly it all went black.

Sadri's frail body dropped to the floor as Emmrich ripped the skull from her hand. He stared wide eyed in labored breath, trying to process everything that just happened. 

Emmrich quickly set the skull back down on the table before rushing to Sadri's side.

She laid sprawled out on the cold wood floor. Emmrich assailed two fingers to her neck, pushing lightly down on her soft skin his mind begging for her to be alive. He felt as her veins pumped with blood, there was a pulse, he let out a sigh of relief, as the tension in his shoulders unraveled slightly.

The slender man gently raised her into his arms. He had braced himself for the workout but was surprised she weighed little. It brought more concern than relief, he thought.

Emmrich laid her down on the couch and took a moment to process  what just happened.

He was shaken up by her display of magic, he never imagined it'd get so out of hand.

He worried if he should go get a healer, but her breath was of a person merely in slumber. By the time he got a healer would she be okay being left alone? would they be able to do anything? He was a well educated man and even he was at a loss for words.

So he waited, keeping a close eye on the raising and falling of her chest. 

[numetaljackdog]

what i'm listening to 6/8/2023 (song notes under cut)

spot. link//yt link

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Death Grips - Hacker: nothing super unique to say about it other than that it's genuinely just one of the best songs. like probably ever. we know this

Limp Bizkit - Clunk: smiles. it's me. clunk is nowhere near my favorite song on three dollar bill y'all but it's like. the best of the bad songs. it never could have been a single bc it doesn't have the strength and the hook is wimpy as fuck but i have fun with it :) i like the part where fred says clunk a bunch of times and i like the breakdown :) come closer i am normal about this album

Ada Rook - TRU U (Live at ELECTROPUNKz 2023): ah, rook's performance at electropunkz. another thing that i am normal about. i believe i've professed my love for the album this song is from before, so i'll save that ramble, but i had a lot of fun with the live ep here. and tru u is such a fucking banger i love every second of it, from the silly anime sample at the beginning to the little pause in the last chorus where the word "death" intrudes. i've said before: ada rook makes the music that i wish i made. this remains true

Danny Burstein & Jessica Hecht - Do You Love Me?: i've had Theatre on the Brain for the past week or so, which led me to listen to the soundtrack to a show that my high school did (although i didn't work on that show myself, i knew people who did). fiddler on the roof is a good show imo, and while i don't really feel qualified to talk about some of the more complex subject matter of a lot of the play, this song is relatively accessible and also drives me a little crazy. i just can't get over the careful, straight-faced profession of love between two characters who never considered before that their marriage might be anything more than a practical and social necessity. it's a tribute to the fact that sometimes love is unglamorous, sometimes it's really as bland as spending all your time with someone just because they're there and while that might not be the fairy tale we all like to imagine, it doesn't make the love worthless. tevye and golde SAY that it doesn't change a thing, but i don't think we're meant to believe them. it doesn't change their often grim material lives and daily realities, true, but i like to think that knowing there's love between them will make the rest of their days just that tiny bit sweeter. i'm so normal about this

Nirvana - Pennyroyal Tea (Live on MTV Unplugged): links to this post. it's just so crazy to me. we had five or so years of kurt cobain screeching the most agonized poetry the music industry has ever seen, cutting through the bullshit of shiny happy pop music and voicing the blood and death and sickness of an entire generation, and now they're just remembered as that one old band who did the song you hear people playing at guitar center. i command of you. actually really listen to this band, take the time to go through some deep cuts, listen to the weird little eps and bonus tracks and shit. there's so much to uncover. this song came on shuffle at one point and i just was floored by it all once again, so it's here as representative of the sentiment

Cab Calloway - St. James' Infirmary: i've been obsessed with an old betty boop cartoon that features this song, which i put in the youtube playlist. you might have seen a clip from it making some rounds on tumblr, but the full thing is worth a watch. cab calloway was known for his flamboyant performances, but all that energy takes on kind of a dark, unsettling tone when placed in the context of the moderately-fucked-up cartoon. good stuff

Billy Joel - Movin' Out (Anthony's Song): i've never been much of a billy joel fan but i've felt the need to explore more of his stuff after getting into this one. it came on the radio in the car and i was on an easygoing road so i got the chance to really LISTEN to it, y'know. like i've probably heard it in passing a million times, and my dad and i would always make fun of the "heart atTACK ACK ACK ACK ACK" part, but when i really listened to it... it's a damn good song! got that earnest, heart-aching singer-songwriter realness. who knew!

Skee-Lo - I Wish: TWO new todd videos since the last WILT, so you know that shit is making an appearance. i genuinely really love this song, i think it's so fun and creative with an *amazing* sample, i kinda wish skee-lo had gotten a little better than he did. you should follow my nu metal tournament blog, because i'm gonna put a bunch of other non-nu metal polls up when the bracket's done, and skee-lo is gonna make an appearance. i need more skee-lo warriors, basically. that rabbit in a hat thing is bullshit though

Caravan - The Dog, The Dog, He's At It Again: this is a find from charlotte charlottan's "Intro to Prog" playlist that i immediately fell in love with. it's so floaty and lovely, while managing to both gesture towards a wide variety of themes AND be catchy as all hell. it's good song, basically. i know nothing about caravan so that's basically it, but it's even got dog in the title :V

Parkway Drive - Boneyards (Live): it doesn't technically count as a repeat bc this is the live version!!!! i just love this shit so much. relistening to horizons after having not heard it for so long was such a breath of fresh air (this was like 3 months ago and i'm still talking about it lmao). i love the big stupid breakdown so much, boneyards has nearly permanently entered my rotation of songs to imagine myself performing. i also just love to imagine like. picture going to some punk or metal festival around the time horizons came out, and parkway is there, and your buddy is like yooo come on we GOTTA see these guys they fuckin kill live. and you're maybe not really familiar with them but you figure it's worth checking out. and they play this song and you're like damn yeah this is pretty good. and then the fucking breakdown happens!!!!!! i feel like you'd just be standing there and realize wow. i'm going to die in this pit. and that's really the feeling i'm pining for

Scatman John - Scatman's World: now some of you in the crowd may be familiar with our friend the scatman.... i've personally had my eyes opened to a whole slew of scatman hits that i never even knew about thanks to the enthusiasm of local scatman expert violet gec (hi violet!!!!!) and although this particular track is one i already knew of, i expect a lot of you might not know it. go ahead and take a step into scatman's world, baby! it's a beautiful place! and also the song will get stuck in your head despite your inability to mimic the sounds he makes!

underscores - Count of three (You can eat $#@!): i'm a pretty casual underscores fan, i just know songs here and there, but i do really like what i hear. count of three is SUCH an earworm, and i love a good "fuck you" song when it's done correctly. i also just appreciate the quality of the censoring job in the title. it's not perfect but there's effort... a lot of people just pick four random characters but here, $ obviously looks like S, # is similar to H, and so on. these are the kinds of things i think about

Bring Me The Horizon - AmEN!: continuing to ask the question of "what the hell are these guys doing ever and why does it sound good." first of all, we have to address the lil uzi feature. that makes... two? i think it's just two fuckin international pop stars that bmth have collaborated with. i mean, i know uzi is a rapper but considering rap's dominance in the pop sphere and their sheer popularity, i think i'm justified in calling a pop rapper a pop star. it's been said to death, but it's just crazy that these guys have become one of the biggest rock acts around considering where they started. as for the song itself, it's not like... my favorite? but it's cool, it's catchy. i don't find their lyrics nearly as impactful now as i did when 1. i was younger and 2. they wrote about suicide and nihilism and shit all the time. i guess the themes are still dark but it all just kinda washes over me now. i'm just here for the heavy heavy and the big chorus, and that's what i got. so i'm happy :)

Everclear - I Will Buy You A New LIfe: as you may have seen, i had a big sappy emotional moment for a few days at the end of last month, and that had me returning to my roots. post-grunge. a genre with no shortage of lame pop rock relationship tunes, including this one. i even made a playlist of sappy songs, of which this was one. i just like the idea of pledging all these expensive things to someone you love, but doing it as kind of a joke. like the sentiment is real, but you both know that's never gonna happen, because all you really have to offer is yourself. and hopefully that's enough. it's like if two princes by the spin doctors was less fun. i fuck with it mildly

Third Eye Blind - Jumper: that's right folks. not one, but TWO mellow and corny 90s rock tunes. i have nothing to say about this song other than that it's pretty good and, more importantly, you should watch the most recent trainwreckords video (told you we'd get both todd videos in here). i've even conveniently included that very video in the youtube playlist :) DO IT

Kesha - Eat The Acid: i listened to and enjoyed the new kesha album, but this single was definitely the song that stuck in my mind above all the others. it just made such an impression. even in her current era, i don't think i or anyone else expecting... this. it's very psychedelic, and while it doesn't completely deviate from pop by any means, i think it's a pretty bold step for her and i hope it pays dividends. i would be 100% down for more strange experimental kesha, i wanna see where this goes

Tina Turner - What's Love Got to Do with It: tina turner is featured on two WILTS in a row... if only the circumstances weren't so unfortunate. as i'm sure i said last time, she was a fantastic vocalist, and her biggest hit here gave her the space to really holler. i thought it was fitting as well to put this song right next to eat the acid, as both are the returning singles of women finally casting themselves free (or at least attempting to) of the figures that tied them down and abused them in the music industry. What's Love might reek of the 80s, but it's the good 80s. and for the record, i went back and listened to the full album and found a lot to like about it. RIP to a legend, for real

Roxy Radclyffe - YOU'RE GOING TO LOVE ME: another song whose presence is moreso indicative of a broader listening trend. i've been really interested in this artist's work recently, although i haven't had the opportunity to really dive headfirst in yet. i discovered her through a rym/bandcamp rabbit hole and was fascinated by the quanitity of projects she has running. i would recommend checking out her neocities and poking around, i've found some interesting stuff so far. definitely the kind of thing i think my crowd of oddballs on tumblr dot com could enjoy

[year2000electronics]

Tumblr's being weird and won't let me find the Dark Moon rewrite post. I think there was one where you explained the story behind it, at least?

I JUST HAVENT MADE A FULL POST ON IT IM SORRYYYY but i can do bullet points of what’s going down

- so basically this kinda comes from a place of me like. liking dark moon but wishing it had more Characters. so it started with making boss ghosts and then kinda escalated

- so the plot is luigi is looking for e gadd after he went missing in a place near the mansion called evershade valley, unfortunately along the way we see a flash of lightning, a scream, and then cut to darkness

- it fades back in and it’s revealed that luigi is now... a GHOST!! oh no! (this would be the main ‘gimmick’ of the game like how mansion 3 had gooigi as a big selling point)

- he realizes he’s in a lab and he’s been captured by a ghost researcher named professor evershade who said his ghostly dna seemed different somehow so he wanted to see more

- luigi explains the situation and asks if he can help him contact e gadd but all lines to him are dead- evershade theorizes that he must have been taken by the same spectre that turned luigi into a ghost, and luigi immediately goes ‘KING BOO....’ bc who else does he have beef with.

- evershade suggests that if they defeat the four rulers of the nearby mansions they can assemble the dark moon, an artifact that will make sure no ghost will be able to cause their own mischief again

- luigi agrees, and in the meantime evershade says he can try to work on a way to see if he can change luigi back from a ghost

- he uses the same teleportation device e gadd does in dark moon to get luigi in and out of evershades lab, and luigi usually winds up in the small garden which leads to the four mansions

- (meta talk here- the multiple mansion exploring and evershades appearance are meant to kinda trick the player into thinking that it’s a ‘different character same purpose’ scenario, like how both goombario and goombella are tattling goombas)

- (you also get access to regular luigi after clearing one or two rooms in the first mansion- this serves as a bit of a tutorial segment for ghost luigis abilities and how youll be able to switch between ghost luigi and regular luigi to accomplish different tasks)

- ghost luigi probably has the power of a portrait ghost himself, so would have abilities such as the ability to scare other ghosts into fleeing a room or scaring them into doing stuff for him (which would serve as both a puzzle solution and a short-term solution for any segments where you may be stuck as ghost luigi), there are also other abilities like passing through walls (but most new rooms will be VERY dark so it would be hard to suss out details), spectral wind, etc. regular luigi is the one able to catch ghosts though, and regular and ghost forms will often interact in puzzles like a slightly less co-op based luigi and gooigi system

- the first mansion, gloomy manor, is a pretty standard mansion, it’s very old and filled w cobwebs. the boss is a spider-themed ghost, madame moufette. she says the mansions been lost to time and now only the spiders and ghosts live there

- the second mansion, haunted towers, is... actually only a one floor lobby. it’s only when you take the elevator that you realize the entire building is underground and it leads you to a literal icy bunker where an arctic ghost, macready, has spent ages under the bunker and is convinced that a light wielding beast is hunting him down

- the third mansion, treacherous mansion, is a house of illusion, led by a chess-playing ghost named rook. there are stuff like portals, tv static, living suits of armour, the like. rook’s message to luigi is that not everything is as it seems in evershade valley

- luigi comes back from treacherous mansion and gives evershade the third piece of the dark moon, which is when evershade reveals he had the fourth piece of the dark moon all along- and. here’s where things get fucky wucky i’m so sorry

- evershade lifts his goggles and takes off his hat and reveals that HE’S luigi from the future. after the events of mansion 1, luigi eventually decided to become an apprentice to e gadd and became a full time ghost researcher. things don’t seem so different at first but unfortunately e gadd game-overs and so luigi is left all on his own. which is a bummer. with his mentor gone luigi throws himself into his work, neglecting going on adventures with mario to a point that he just stops getting invited... (took mario a VERY long time to stop asking though. make no mistake) over time he becomes a bit of a recluse and his curious and observant nature kinda becomes a hunger for knowledge... he wants to know just what the strange and unusual is and what makes it tick. he also starts using professor evershade as a pen name bc ‘dr mario’ gets people asking about his research for the wrong reasons. though not only does he become more curious but he gets very very bored. ghosts are just poltergeists, tricksters... they’re nothing without a leader. luigi tries to bring back king boo, he invents all sorts of things to try- but the one thing the professor did that he didn’t was invent that damn portrait machine (which has rusted and broken with time- it’s been like, 20-25 years at this point).

- basically, what starts out as ‘i need to bring king boo back so i can have a proper rogues gallery of ghosts to study’ turns into ‘i need to bring king boo back but why would i even defeat him? this is great for paranormal studies’ so yeah. now evershade would like to see the ghost world at its fullest power

- he time travelled back to the past to try and convince e gadd to free king boo (yes he made a time machine hashtag smart) but e gadd fights back, destroying the portrait machine he built. evershade is Angry about this and decides if he won’t help him... perhaps someone else will. his ‘time machine’ is actually a large building that affects all of evershade valley, so it, how it was 20 years into the future, was brought into the past. his backup plan was to trap luigi in evershade valley by turning him into a ghost and making him collect the dark moon shards that he had always wanted but couldn’t get (his ghost researching skills are fine but his ghost hunting skills are out of shape. he could have done that in the first place but he kinda wanted to see his old mentor again.)

- the dark moon itself is an artifact split into four parts bc its effect on ghosts is too much to stand, even for ghosts- it’d give whoever owns it absolute power over the paranormal world and its residents, so the four mansion ghosts have taken it upon themselves to protect them (evershades original plan also involved teaming up with king boo to defeat the ghosts and take the dark moon for themselves)

- (actually, the fourth mansion ghost is polterpup! the dark moon piece WAS in his collar but a certain evershade stole it after the doggy lets his guard down around luigi

- evershade, using the dark moons power, casts a blacklight into king boos painting and finally frees him, offering him ultimate power and ruling over ghosts if they work together as a team. king boo finds this hashtag funny so he’s like ok

- then, luigi gets teleported out of the lab before he can try and stop them. polterpup points him towards where evershades lab has been all along- the fourth and final mansion, old clockworks

- in there luigi finds e gadd being held hostage, where he reveals evershade was trying to threaten him into freeing king boo

- as ghost luigi you also experience side effects of the dark moon in this final dungeon, like controller inputs not working or luigi needing to stop and wrestle off a headache

- so yea... final boss is basically king boo fighting you and evershade cheering him on and you need to counter king boos attacks so that they hit the dark moon and destroy it

- luigi sucks up king boo.... LOL

- evershade is defeated and he doesn’t even have an evil monologue he just kinda stares at luigi unimpressed like ‘really? this is the route you’re taking’ and luigi silently just kinda grabs onto e gadd and whatever toads are in this game. and neither of them say anything

- somewhere in old clockworks a clock goes off, and all the rest of them do too (the one time you hear every clock in sync). fade to white and e gadd and luigi wake up in an empty field where a construction worker asks if they’re ok. pan out to reveal evershade is gone and there’s apparently a construction crew hoping to build four brand new buildings here in this valley

UM THATS IT LOL.... it’s rly overcomplicated i know. i’m sorry.

[angrylizardjacket]

fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡 

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over. 

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen. 

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really? 

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown. 

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties. 

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending. 

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation. 

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public. 

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album. 

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was. 

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone. 

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong. 

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired. 

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room. 

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness. 

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back. 

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss. 

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it. 

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time. 

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter. 

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop. 

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head. 

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed. 

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him. 

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too. 

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

[undertheinfluencerd]

https://ift.tt/3naU3Cx #

From now until this coming Saturday, PC players can claim the seminal Far Cry 3 for free, courtesy of a giveaway from Ubisoft. Developed by Ubisoft Montréal, the crew behind Splinter Cell and Far Cry 2, Far Cry 3 hit stores in late 2012 for PC and seventh-generation consoles. The dynamic open-world gameplay, exploration, and Heart of Darkness-inspired story captivated millions of players, yet the villainous Vaas is what keeps the title in the conversation nearly a decade later.

Actor Michael Mando, now known for Orphan Black and Better Call Saul, brought Vaas to life, essentially drafting the blueprint for Far Cry villains that would follow in his stead. Far Cry 4 dropped players into the world of the eccentric Pagan Min, played by Troy Baker. Greg Bryk took lead as Far Cry 5’s Joseph Seed, a David Koresh-like cult leader whose charisma proved equal parts fascinating and unsettling. The brand’s sixth mainline entry arrives this fall, complete with a tyrannical antagonist, Antón Castillo, played by Giancarlo Esposito of Breaking Bad fame. In preparation for the next adventure, some players may want to revisit the franchise’s inflection point.

Related: Far Cry 3: Blood Dragon Classic Edition Rated For PS5 & Xbox Series X/S

By visiting the “Giveaway” page on Ubisoft‘s official website, Ubisoft Connect PC players can download free access to Far Cry 3. This deal for the open-world first-person adventure will last from today, September 7, through September 11 at 1:30 AM local time. Those who don’t already have a Ubisoft Connect account need only to register should they choose to take advantage of the limited-time free offer.

This free offer arguably couldn’t have gone live at a better time, considering the impending rollout of Far Cry 6. Like Far Cry 3 before it, the sixth mainline installment takes place in a tropical environment, though the franchise’s newest setting obviously took cues from real-world Cuba.

Far Cry 3 placed players in the role of Jason Brody, a young man vacationing in the fictional Rook Islands with his brother, girlfriend, and a small group of friends. What starts as a fun trip quickly morphs into a twisted game of survival for Jason and his loved ones. By the end of it all, Jason stands transformed, a new man whose fate rests in the hands of a deceptively simple player-based decision.

Next: 10 Awesome Tattoos Inspired By Far Cry 3

Ubisoft‘s Far Cry 3 is playable now across on PC, PlayStation, and Xbox platforms.

Source: Ubisoft

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The post Far Cry 3 For PC Being Given Away For Free By Ubisoft appeared first on undertheinfluencerd.net.

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[thebowcollector]

hey tumblr, long time no see

I'll probs put a post up as a lil summary for this year in dec just as a log for myself but for now, i wanna talk about a new game ive played!

its called ikenfell and most of it will be under the cut cos spoilers. all you need to know is if youre looking for a good magic mystery rpg that may or may not take a dark turn, this game is for you. 

many people have been comparing it to be hogwarts but without the influence of a terf and theyre right! the ikenfell world is filled to the brim with magic, spells, and alchemy. the story bases on a girl whose sister went missing in the magical school, ikenfell, and decides to look for her there. 

i loved how as the story progresses, it gets more muddled and tangled with the school’s history and how magic works in this world. even in this short game, youre introduced to deities of the world that unravels the origin of magic and its system so youre provided with enough context. 

the environments are also so beautiful and charming in the game. i particularly liked the twilight forest and astronomy tower because of its twinkling lights and the fireflies that follow you around!! so gorgeous. other dungeons were also superb in setting the mood for the story, when paired with the music. this was especially so in the stacks. 

the puzzles you get through are so interesting and satisfying once you solve them! each dungeon has different puzzle types, but none too difficult. they also lend a hand in building up the mystery aspect of the game. most of the puzzles were also designed to fit into the different context of the dungeons and acts as a tool for storytelling, really well thought out! 

fight sequences are also so interesting!! the enemies are creative and have attacks that reflect what they are. the battle mechanic is also refreshing as its not only a time-based fight but also a strategy-based one. each of your attacks are not mana caped but planning out your moves play an important role in determining if you’ll win or lose. 

and the music! oh, the music was so charming! as it was done by the same team that did steven universe, you can expect similar chiptune meets piano style of scores. but it still distinct from the show, so it doesnt feel like it was an extension of it. and theres singing and really good lyrics!! 

a big selling point of the game though, i think are the characters. they all have such great character development throughout the story. they each have issues and problem they must deal with. topics like self confidence, isolation, relationships with others, and even ptsd are explored carefully and respectfully. the amount of effort put into presenting a healthy way others can react to those topics are superb. i think the most outstanding one was when maritte approached perty as she was experiencing symptoms of the ptsd. although maritte went against perty’s will so that she could pull her to safety, she went back to apologize to perty. respecting one’s boundaries is important, no matter the circumstances and im so glad this game addressed it. 

another aspect of the characters i need to talk about is how none of them are straight. in the main cast of playable characters, half of them are non binary and the rest are either gay or bi and i am living for it. and its all so natural when its indicated that character is gay or nb, they didnt make a big fuss by saying things like, btw, xx is gay or xx uses they/them or ze/zir. it all shown in how each character react when they meet each other and im in love. another thing the game handled really well was when someone misgendered a character. rook just straight up corrected her “excuse you, im non binary.” the game said that we shouldnt be apologetic when someone misgenders us because its how we identify ourselves, its who we are. finally, ive always identified with petronella as they is nb and shy. but something maritte said about them in the epilogue that completely broke me was “you dont do relationships, right?” i havent come across any media that has an aromantic character and i was just so overcome with joy i burst into tears. there are ace rep, but aromantic? oh boy. 

this game is so filled with love and creativity and charm. did i mention that you can pet all the cats? yea. 

[kiruuuuu]

Kapkan/Glaz oneshot in which Glaz implicitly makes a bet with Kapkan. (Rating T, fluff/humour, ~2k words) - You might’ve come across this snippet on my AO3 here, under 1.5! I’ve never posted it on tumblr before but as I’ve written a second part, I figured it’s easier to have both in the same place :) Enjoy!!

.

A whip crack resounding in the thick summer air, slicing through heavy humidity and echoing off in the distance. “You son of a wet noodle”, Glaz breathes softly and furrows his brows, squinting disapprovingly through the scope to find his target undisturbed, gently blowing in the wind.

“You curse like a girl”, Kapkan tells him without looking up from his small sculpture. It’s not entirely clear what it’s supposed to be, but if Glaz had to guess, he’d have said a mixture of Sledge and a tragically disabled aardvark. Kapkan has recently picked up the hobby of carving and is still in the honeymoon phase, as the rest of Spetsnaz likes to call it, meaning he genuinely believes it’s going to work out and refuses to accept any criticism. It usually lasts two weeks, then the five stages of grief begin until the Russian finds a new hobby and delves into it head first.

“Didn’t you hear Mira when she dropped Montagne’s shield on her foot?”, comes a laconic remark from the side, “Cursing like a girl is a compliment.” Tachanka lies poured onto a sun lounger, ironically so since he wishes nothing more than to escape the heat. The ice in his glass of water has long melted and normally he wouldn’t grace the younger operators with his presence at these temperatures, were it not for the remnants of the stink bomb that Smoke accidentally detonated in the base. Sun is easier to stomach than a stench so bad it made even Smoke himself gag.

“This shot is impossible.” Glaz sits up annoyed and searches for the scarf without the help of any magnification, doesn’t find it – unsurprisingly. Kapkan has tied it somewhere onto a tree and Glaz uses it as practise, though it seems Kapkan overestimated his abilities when he chose their spot earlier. They usually spend the afternoons together, only Fuze absent today.

“Nothing is impossible”, Kapkan objects and almost hacks off his middle finger. Watching him usually gives Glaz mini heart attacks. “You’re just not trying enough.”

His patience is waning. He’s been attempting the shot for almost an hour now, adjusting for wind and distance and whatnot, and is almost at the point where he declares defeat. He’s sweaty and hungry and the steady bitching from the old man and the irregular sounds of Kapkan chipping away at his abomination are getting to him. “Oh yeah?”, he snaps back without meaning to. “Why don’t you try it then?”

Astonishingly, Kapkan agrees. He shouldn’t, he’s always been terrible at sniping and it’ll be a wonder if he doesn’t take out Tachanka’s lukewarm water instead. “What’s the closest thing you’ve hit?”, he asks and drops his carving into the impressive pile of not-quite sawdust at his feet from which he might never rescue it again. Maybe that’s actually the plan.

“Trunk of the tree it’s tied to”, Glaz replies and doesn’t care that he’s pouting now. He dislikes being bested, often refuses to even allow for the chance – he knows Kapkan won’t make it, yet the mere thought of it is distasteful. He stands up and stretches his stiff legs, can’t suppress a yawn and gestures for his teammate to take his place behind his rifle.

“I don’t know why you’re even trying”, Tachanka mumbles what everyone’s thinking from behind his oversized sunglasses. He’s yet to move a muscle since he’s taken up post on the sunbed.

“Don’t underestimate me.” Kapkan wiggles his eyebrows at Glaz (who merely returns his gaze unamused) and lies down on the cool dirt floor. He’s wearing a simple t-shirt that flatters his toned arms and rides up a little while he’s making himself comfortable, exposing a pale strip of skin unmarred by the merciless sun. Glaz is not staring. He’s not.

“You’re not going to make it”, he points out and crosses his arms. No answer from Kapkan who’s lining up the shot. “If you make it, I will literally suck your dick.”

It’s a phrase that’s basically lost all meaning during the few weeks they’ve used it, Fuze overheard it from Mute maybe or Rook and turned it into the ultimate dare, the others adapting and jokingly repeating it every time one of them attempts anything vaguely impossible. So far, no one has managed. Glaz steals some of Tachanka’s water while Kapkan wastes the first bullet. It’s not going to happen now and in a few weeks they’ll start using a different inside joke and –

“You’d better come see this”, says Kapkan and there’s something in his voice that makes Glaz’ stomach drop abruptly. He almost spits out the water and wastes no time in joining his fellow countryman on the ground, pushing him out of the way and checking the scope. He realises too late that it’s going to be a prank that he fell for again, as he usually does, and that Kapkan will begin laughing at him any moment now. Only… no one is laughing.

There’s a hole in the scarf.

Glaz blinks, not comprehending what his eyes are telling him. He’s acutely aware of the uncomfortably warm body next to him and his own breathing and the innocent words he’s uttered without thinking. There’s no chance he’ll ever live this down. “You’re fucking kidding me”, he whispers because he can’t help himself.

“There you go, use grown-up swears.” Kapkan sounds highly amused. “You know what this means, right?”

“No way in hell did he make the shot”, Tachanka slurs from his deathbed.

“He fucking made the fucking shot.” Glaz is furious. Mostly at himself for not accomplishing what Kapkan managed first try.

“Ooh, sounds like someone needs to walk off the rage”, Kapkan continues teasing him while wearing a shit eating grin that does nothing to alleviate Glaz’ frustration. “We can go to the shed to get some water, I’m dying of thirst. Want us to refill your glass, ‘Chanka? It’s probably at a nice kiddie pool temperature at this point.”

“With less piss”, is Tachanka’s only reply and so Kapkan takes it, pours the water into the nearest bush and repeats meaningfully: “ ‘Less.’ ”

They walk back to ‘the shed’, a tiny hut in the woods not far from the base containing various tools, chairs and a sink with running water that’s pleasantly cool even in this season. “I can’t believe you made it”, Glaz grumbles on the way, shaking his head. “How did you even – you couldn’t have –”

“But I did, and isn’t that a shame.” Kapkan holds the door open for him and if nothing else has made Glaz suspicious until now, this gesture undoubtedly should. His alarm bells should be going off full force. Yet all he does is ponder the impossibility of Kapkan’s feat, whether he’s made any glaring mistakes himself, whether he should take apart his sniper rifle to find the reason. “Do you want to get it over with right away?”

His thoughts grind to a halt. He stops. Turns towards Kapkan and finds the door to the tiny building shut and the Russian frightfully close to him. “What -” His voice breaks, he averts his gaze, tries again. “What are you talking about?”

“You said it yourself. You can’t back off now. A deal’s a deal.” Kapkan sounds reasonable, which is the worst thing about it, he’s reassuring him and makes the outrageous demand seem sensible.

“You’re not serious.” The I hope is implied though Glaz can’t bring himself to voicing it. His thighs are growing weaker by the second. This is another joke. It has to be.

“I’m deadly serious”, says Kapkan and he does seem sincere – though he’s an excellent liar when he wants to be. “You’re not one to shun a challenge, are you?”

He pictures it. For one glorious second, he toys with the idea of just yanking down Kapkan’s pants right here and is overcome with a heat wave not only induced by the stuffy air in the shed. “I didn’t mean it”, he insists, “you’re pulling my leg, you know I didn’t mean it, don’t be so…”

“If you really want to do it, you’d better get on your knees.” Kapkan is entirely unbothered by his words, smirking and placing a hand on Glaz’ shoulder, but what really constitutes the last straw is that his thumb brushes over Glaz’ collarbone in a gesture that is entirely too familiar and, most of all, suggestive. He opens his mouth to protest and doesn’t expect the push and his legs buckle and suddenly he’s kneeling on the dusty floorboards, his eyes level with Kapkan’s belt.

Okay. Sure. He can salvage this. His dignity has only suffered a little. Kapkan doesn’t know Glaz is half-hard right now and in this position he’s not going to find out either. Convenient, really. “I’m not going to suck you off.” He enunciates each word clearly in case Kapkan decides to be hard of hearing all of a sudden. “You’re being ridiculous. Where is this even coming from?”

“Look, do you want me to tell everyone that you never really did Sledge’s dare? Huh? I’ve kept quiet as a favour but I could -”

This is when Glaz understands. Kapkan facetiously blackmails people all the time, threatens to enlighten the world about Fuze’s showering habits if he doesn’t stop stealing his food, tells Smoke he’s going to expose his contraband hiding spots whenever he refuses to cease his current shenanigans (which is always), it happens a lot. What most people don’t know: Kapkan is usually not joking. Not really.

Just like he isn’t now.

Their gazes are locked, Kapkan’s considerably less confident than a few seconds ago, he must’ve realised his blunder, must know he’s betrayed himself. He’s looking down at Glaz like a trapped animal, ready to lash out or flee and chooses the second option, switches to the first when Glaz instinctively reaches out and grabs his trouser leg, keeps him in place. They scuffle briefly and hardly with any force behind it and somehow Kapkan loses balance and stumbles and one of his hands lands on the back of Glaz’ head and the next thing he knows is that his face is pressed into Kapkan’s crotch.

All he can think is: Oh.

Because there’s something quite obvious denting his cheek.

The door flies open. “You almost hit me holy shit what are you two doing?!” That voice unmistakably belongs to Fuze who’s standing in the doorway in casual clothing plus a handgun by his side and looking like he just ran a marathon, of which Glaz takes note after Kapkan panics and shoves him away so he’s again able to see something other than the seam of Kapkan’s trousers. To his knowledge, Fuze is supposed to be somewhere completely different while dressed completely different.

You almost hit me. Fuze has a gun for no apparently reason. Together with the guilty and fantastically sheepish look on Kapkan’s face, it’s easy to connect the dots, so Glaz starts laughing. Fuze looks utterly lost by now. “You didn’t fucking make the shot”, Glaz wheezes and would double over if he was standing. He’s dying to know how Kapkan managed to convince Fuze for his participation. It’s an impressively elaborate plan just to coerce him into doing something he would’ve done voluntarily and might’ve done regardless hadn’t Kapkan wounded Glaz’ brittle pride with the claim of sniping better than him.

He can hardly stop giggling, especially when faced with Kapkan’s stony face and the mumbled “let’s never talk about this again, alright?” and Fuze’s dumb ignorant expression. They gather a few chairs, fill up water bottles and Tachanka’s glass and refuse to answer any of Fuze’s increasingly irritated questions.

When they’re about done, Glaz turns to Kapkan and tells him with a bright smile: “You could’ve just asked, you know?” Leaving him to figure out what to do with that information, he steps out of the hut into the sweltering sunshine.

[welllpthisishappening]

The Pocket Square Incident

Ok, so originally I posted this as an ask from @wholockgal which read: “The pocket square antics 100% scream Will to me... mortifying Belle when she realizes. Probably halfway through the night.”

But apparently now Tumblr doesn’t include “read more” in asks, and I was really worried about how long it was. So. We’ve moved here. Anyway, if the Rangers trade Jimmy Vesey I’ll riot. 

Also, here are some words set, approximately, a week after they win the second Cup. Which has led to some kind of epic celebration because, lest we not forget, Killian totally screwed up, told everyone he and Emma were going to have a kid and also because the Blues celebration has caused @optomisticgirl​ and I to plot things. Basically the Rangers have not been sober in quite some time at this point. Emma is passably amused. And now they’ve got to go to the NHL awards.

So here’s this. Which is based on this. In which Will Scarlet has to improvise. Here we go:

-----

“Are none of us going to talk about Scarlet’s pocket square?”

Killian hummed, nosing further at the side of Emma’s neck and he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten that close to her. He wasn’t really sitting on his chair anymore, was more perched on the edge with his hands moving absent-mindedly, like he was trying to take stock of her or find something to ground him and everything was still a little hazy around the edges.

“You’re a mess, Cap,” she laughed, and he was fairly certain her eyes were, in fact, getting greener. Emma nodded, letting her forehead rest against his and--“Yeah, you totally said that out loud too. A mess.”

“But,” Killian argued, hand shifting to her stomach and he could just make out her eye roll. It made him a little dizzy. “A mess you’re definitely into.”

“Something like that.”

Phillip groaned, slumping further into his chair and that was only going to end with him wrinkling his jacket. “You guys are ignoring me.”

“This is great practice for your kid,” Will quipped. Except the words weren’t entirely even. They were far more slurred, his gaze not quite straight and a distinct curl to his lips because, it seemed, two-time Stanley Cup winners who refused to drink much water were also very good at mocking everything around them.

Robin snickered. Into his arm. His head was resting on his arms.

“You know,” Regina drawled. “Maybe you’re all just a collective mess.”

Emma hummed. “Yeah, that’s definitely true. Killian, if you don’t stop, you’re going to rip my dress and then I’m going to have to kill you.”

“Check him,” Robin suggested. He didn’t lift his head.

“We are at a very fancy event.”

“So you should probably stop with the threats of murder, huh, love?” Killian asked, tilting his head up and he was going to be very smug about whatever sound she made as soon as his mouth dragged across the side of her jaw. For, like, the rest of the night.

If not the rest of their lives.

They should really start planning a wedding.

He really wanted to marry her.

“Said that out loud too,” Emma muttered, but there was a distinct color to her cheeks that hadn’t been there a few moments before. “That was nice, though.”

“Was the other one not nice?”

“He is drunk, Emma,” Will said. He was starting to wobble. In his chair. It would be a miracle if any of them got to the stage. “He’s got no idea what he’s saying right now. He’s just trying to impress you.”

She stuck her tongue out at him –– and she couldn’t blame being drunk, but she’d also been watching all of them be drunk and maybe in addition to planning a wedding, Killian would apologize for that.

“Unnecessary,” Emma said, tapping the tip of her finger against a jaw that was, suddenly, hanging open. “And I’m very impressed. Swooning, really.”

She pointed at herself, one side of her mouth tugging up and, really, there was nothing to do but pull his head up, catch her mouth and kiss her. In public. With cameras nearby. Emma laughed into his mouth, smile obvious even when Killian’s tongue darted forward, but the sound quickly morphed into something closer to a sigh and that, actually, might have been him.

Her fingers were in his hair.

“Oh my God, seriously, someone talk to me about Scarlet’s pocket square,” Phillip shouted. “He’s taking this way too seriously!”

“He’s nominated for the Norris,” Emma reasoned. She didn’t move away from Killian. He nipped at her lip.

“Yeah, I get that, but this is just---honestly, look at him. He’s like some kind of preening--”

“--Oh my God,” Belle breathed, and Killian wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen her eyes get that wide. She jumped up, barely keeping her balance when she started swatting at Will’s shoulder. And his elbow. And his back.

“Babe, babe, c’mon, that’s--” Will started, but the swatting did not stop and every single one of her teeth was obvious when she glared at him. “You’re making it worse, really.”

“What made you decide to do this?”

“What is happening right now?” Robin asked, and that, at least, got him to lift his head. There were bags under his eyes.

Killian scoffed. “You’re too old for this, old man.”

“Oh shut up, talk to me when you start teething.”

“Me, personally?”

“Shut up, Cap.”

Belle’s arms were still masquerading as windmills. “What the hell happened, here,” she sneered. “How did you even fold it like that?”

"Ok, ok, this is mostly Cap’s fault.”

“How is that possible?”

“He was frustratingly sober before we flew out here and we were late and--”

“--Because I care about my liver. And you were still very uneven on your feet when you came downstairs, Scarlet,” Killian pointed out, earning himself a less-than-professional gesture. Robin put his head back down. “Where are you going with this?”

Will ran a hand over his face, a sharp inhale and far too much color in both of Belle’s cheeks. And, like, her forehead. That probably would have been impressive if she didn’t look far more serious about the murder threat than Emma had been.

“I forgot a pocket square,” Will explained.

Killian tilted his head. Phillip blinked no less than twelve times. “Wait, then...what is...”

“It’s mine,” Belle hissed, and Regina actually gasped. Before laughing. Uproariously. And drawing the attention of several other rows, curious glances and Emma’s hand flew to her mouth when she, presumably, figured it out.

“I don’t get it,” Killian admitted.

“Yeah, well, you’re drunk. And preoccupied with Emma. Which is probably for the best because--”

“--What did you make into a pocket square?” Phillip asked, a note of alcohol-fueled stubbornness in his voice. People kept giving them champagne. Back-to-back was very impressive.

Belle looked like she wanted to melt. If her face stayed that red, she might have. Only there was someone else talking –– someone official and Killian could hear other names being called and then Will’s name was being called, for a second time, because he’d won the goddamn Norris Trophy and the whole lot of them exploded into shouts and cheers and slightly shaky movements.

Emma’s arms wrapped around Killian’s middle when he stood up.

And for as difficult as it had been to see recently, Killian was certain he saw it all perfectly in that moment, Will taking measured steps towards the stage with a black pocket square sticking out of his jacket and--

“Is that lace on the edge?’

“Oh my God,” Belle sighed, head falling forward even as she continued to clap.

It only took him a few seconds into Scarlet’s acceptance speech to understand. “Holy shit,” Killian breathed, bringing Emma with him when he turned towards Belle.

“Do not.”

“But.”

“I swear to God, I will find a stick and check you in front of your pregnant fiancée. I won’t even hesitate.”

“I’m still very confused,” Phillip admitted, shuffling through the aisle when Killian waved him over. It was actually kind of difficult to say out loud. Particularly when Phillip almost fell over. “Shit, that’s--”

“--You too, Rook,” Belle said. “I will check you.”

Phillip saluted. “Message received.”

And there was no more mention of the pocket square – or what it was made of – for the rest of the night, all of them too busy posing with trophies and posing with each other, but then they were in a different room and Killian’s mouth was moving again and he was having a difficult time thinking when Emma kept arching her back like that.

“You know,” he said, dragging his lips against the inside of her thigh and hooking his thumb around fabric, “it was pretty ingenious.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“i’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s a paragon of creativity. How about we talk Scarlet’s inventions and the use of his girlfriend’s underwear after you get mine off, deal?’

Killian nipped at her leg. That got her to gasp. And arch her back again. He hadn’t had anymore to drink that night. “Absolutely, Swan.”

They looked at wedding stuff on the plane ride home. 

[clanofskysongs]

Lore Update: Brightsong Pt1

Wow this looks so much longer with tumblr formatting. The rest will follow soon!

Cafune was flying point. The Guardian leapt out of the sea, diamond drops of water flying off him. He was the biggest thing she’d ever seen, maybe it really was true that guardians grew bigger when they lived underwater, with spines longer than her leg and savage white markings across his face. He shot straight at her, and Cafune started backwinging just in time to avoid being killed on impact. Sparks of alarm and worry flared up behind her, and she turned to see the side guards, Trist and Maddox, abandoning their posts to come help her. “Stay in position!” She snapped, hoping that they could hear her. They faltered and went back, Trist’s disappointment thick in the air. At least the other baby, Rin, was so weighed down with cargo that she couldn’t do anything other than hover anxiously at the center of the stopped formation.

Cafune turned back to the water guardian. What a monster, his head was half the size of her body. “Can we help you?” A litany of be polite, be polite, be polite ran in her head. The guardian looked at her more closely, tilting his head back and forth.

“You’re from the Ashfall Waste.” He said, seeing her eyes.

“The Windswept Plateau, actually. Clan Aestra-Svi. Can you tell me why we were stopped?”

The guardian’s anxiety spiked. It was almost painful to watch. Guardians, especially bonded guardians, were always a mess.. “Why are you traveling over the Sea of a Thousand Currents? Where are your travelling papers?”

The trick with guardians was to move slowly and speak calmly. If she gave him any reason to be suspicious of them then they’d likely all be detained and it would take them a week to get out again. Maybe longer, since something had to have happened to put him so on edge. “We’re traveling to the hewn city to trade our product, and I have the travel papers in my bag. I’ll get them out to show you.”

The guardian watched her with hard, blue eyes while she pulled out the papers and then took them with almost absurd gentleness between his massive talons.

“Let me look at them, Servo.” A voice said from a hidden spot on the guardian’s back. The guardian’s anxiety spiked again, the passenger was probably his charge. No wonder the species had such short lifespans.

“I asked you stay hidden.” He grumbled, but he still handed the papers up to what turned out to be a red and brown spiral in his human form.

The spiral ignored him and read over the papers. “You’re going to the hewn city to sell beer? Isn’t that absurdly risky right now? Brightshine is in, what, three days?”

“We don’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Times being what they are.”

He grimaced and turned to Servo. “We’re only supposed to stop traffic out of the Ruins. If they want to go there it’s no scales off our backs.”

“You’re stopping traffic out of the Ruins? Why?”

The water dragons immediately looks uncomfortable. “Our border policies aren’t any of your business.” The spiral said, frowning. “If you want to go then we won’t stop you. Here’re your papers back.”

Cafune hesitated, certain that the minute they returned the papers they’d disappear beneath the waves again. “Wait, we won’t be able to get back. Can you give us a visa?”

Servo laughed. “Go around, stay, we don’t care. Take your papers back. Aren’t you on a deadline?”

“You won’t even tell me what’s going on! You expect me to take my clanmates through the Wasteland? Or the Expanse? Is this how Water treats other flights now?” And that was politeness out the window.

The guardians good humor evaporated. “And there’s that fire flight temper. Here, catch your papers or let the sea have them. We’re done here.” He threw the papers at her and dropped like a rock towards the sea.

Cafune hovered for a wingbeat, fuming, and then dove to catch the papers. Windsinger damn them. Should they go back? The danger of the Expanse was irrelevant, even if they made it through no wind dragon was welcome in the Waste anymore. That left going back through the Scarred Wasteland. They’d have to hire a guide. If only they’d brought Bree. Maybe it wouldn’t be too hard to find one in the Tangled Wood. It would cost them, though. Damn Water, they thought that since they had a near monopoly on interflight highways that they could do whatever they want.

Cafune grabbed the last of the papers neatly, the aerobatics simple for a dragon from the Windswept Plateau, and by the time she got back up to the formation’s height Maddox was waiting for her.

“What the shade happened?” He demanded, looking at the crumpled papers in her hands.

“Fuck if I know. Water dragons won’t tell you what the weather was an hour ago if they think they can get something out of it. They’re letting us go, but something happened that made them stop anyone from coming out of the Ruins. We’re not going to have a good time getting back.” She forced herself to breath and the last of the anger bled out of her.

“We have friends in Water, maybe…”

“You’d ask them to put their necks out for us? Not at a time like this.”

Maddox waved his head back and forth, thinking. “We should go back. It’s too dangerous.”

“Rook would rather we all died than go back to Agape without trying.” If only the council had let her take someone else. Eluvia, or Xue, maybe. “And if we can’t find buyers in the hewn city then the clan’s pretty much finished. We can’t go back.”

“Just get Rin to hold him while we fly. Rook’s big but not that big. And I know the hewn city’s important, but if we die getting back then the clan’ll be even worse off.”

Cafune snorted. “Are you kidding? Five less dragons, one of them a guardian, to feed? Think of the savings. Jokes aside, we’ve got no choice. We’re going.”

“This is a bad plan. Even Trist agrees.”

“Trist is a baby. Are you really going to fight me on this?” Maddox tried to look away and Cafune shoved her face in his. “Maddox. Are you going to fight me?”

He finally shook his head and Cafune let herself relax. If she wasn’t careful she’d die as young as a guardian. “Great, get back to position. We’re still two hours out and half of that is over Light territory so we have to get there before dawn even thinks of happening. Signal everyone to be on high alert the rest of the way. The Sea is a lot less safe than we were hoping it was.”

[ao3feed-bazechirrut]

this is the way (we move)

Read it on the Ao3 at: http://ift.tt/2nzbq2d

by Callioope

This is the way they run:

They push each other, drag each other, carry each other. Bodhi waits and they sprint to him. All they ever have to do is find Bodhi, and he will carry them the rest of the way. They sprint through jungles, fat green leaves smacking them, blocking them, whipping them. They dash across sand, burning through the soles of their feet, sucking them back each step as they stumble in the shifting dunes. They scurry across rocky cliffs, slip and slide across icy plateaus, squelch through swamps, and it doesn’t matter the terrain, they just muddle through it with only one goal in mind: Bodhi’s ship. Home.

#

Vignettes of the post-Scarif Rogue One team. For the Rebelcaptain Week Tumblr prompt "Family."

Words: 2630, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, Bodhi Rook, Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus

Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Family, Rebelcaptainprompts, Tumblr Prompt, Rebelcaptain Week

[metellastella]

Mooks and Rooks, Chapter 2

Author's Note: Regarding the length of chapters. This prompt was cross-posted from both the Tumblr account writing-prompts-s AND their Instagram, writing.prompt.s I saw it on IG. It has a 2,200 character limit on comments. That's 2,200 **characters**, including spaces, not just Word Count. So I've decided each of these 'chapters' will be sticking to that length for now, since I am still posting on the thread over at IG. I feel like this will give me more motivation to update regularly, and work out those writing muscles!! So these will be drabble length, but they WON'T be disjointed drabbles, they will be continuous in plot/structure.  The chapters may get longer in the future.

My first entry has officially reached 70 likes! Thanks guys! List of users who are actively following on IG at the end of the chapter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ His enemy on his knees, the man swiftly backhanded him across the face. The exhausted man- no, boy- didn’t move as the master spoke.

He smiled thinly. “As much as I appreciate initiative, do it again and you’ll be stateside in the Next World relaying your failure to the gods directly.”

Had he knocked him out?

But then the fallen stirred and slowly sat up.

A measuring look. The king figured he was avoiding aggressive gestures on purpose.

“So … if you’re threatening to kill me… otherwise you won’t?” he asked in a genuinely puzzled tone. His magic reserves were almost exhausted after that last trick. It would only take one blast.

The king hadn’t thought further than the sentence. It did sound like he was letting the boy live for the time being.

Could he gain anything by imprisoning him? As much as he’d like a ransom, magicians were difficult to contain, and the boy’d be back to dethrone him someday.

It seemed the best course of action-

He suppressed a snakelike smile. He decided what to do, but he let the silence hang. Better to keep the boy’s apprehension stoked for a little bit. It worked wonders with underling magicians who disobeyed.

But instead of becoming more nervous as a lesser person would, he sat cross legged and rested his elbows on his knees.

The king waited until he was even more relaxed, then barked out the names of the group of his next in command. He watched the boy jump in satisfaction.

Four robed men walked through the door to the throne room. They had been instructed to wait outside while the master took on the duel from the challenger.

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