#might polish this one up and post to ao3 later im trying to post something every month (writing wise) in 2024 thats my goal

[pippytmi]

wrote prompt # 9 from this prompt list for wildmoore: “There is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”/ “Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you.”

_______

“Ryan, I need you to hear me out, and don’t say no until I explain.”

It is as enthusiastic a hello as any, and Ryan doesn’t question it; when it comes to her best friend and her antics (the chicken incident of last Christmas immediately comes to mind), Ryan has learned to pick her battles. “Hi, Mary,” she says, and patiently shuts her front door as Mary walks right in. “It’s nice to see you too.”

By the time Ryan has locked and bolted her door, Mary has already begun to mix white wine and orange juice into two mugs. This is not the first time Mary has tried to ply Ryan with alcohol to get her to do something really, really stupid (again, chicken thing), and Ryan wordlessly takes a seat at the island and doesn’t bother hiding her judgment.

“Okay, this must be serious,” Ryan says eventually, as Mary hands her a drink with one hand and then downs her own with the other. “I’m afraid to ask now.”

“First you have to promise you won’t interrupt me until I finish,” Mary says. “Deal?”

“Sure, fine,” Ryan agrees, and she even takes a sip out of her mug as a show of good faith. It’s absolutely abysmal given the fact that she’s just brushed her teeth, and she quickly sets it down.

Mary takes a deep breath and straightens. “I need a favor,” she says. “Or actually, Sophie needs—”

“Oh hell no.”

“Ryan!” Mary gives her a half-pout, half-frown. “You said you wouldn’t interrupt!”

“Well you didn’t mention it would involve Sophie Moore.” Taste be damned, Ryan does need alcohol for this conversation, so she says fuck it and grabs her poor man’s mimosa again. “Whatever she wants from me, tell her to forget about it.”

“Technically,” Mary says, raising a finger in the air, “she doesn’t know I’m asking you. So you can rest assured your little arch-nemesis-rivalry or whatever is still intact. And if you would let me finish, I could actually tell you the situation we’re in.”

“You mean the situation she’s in,” Ryan corrects, and Mary levels her with a stare that Ryan has come to recognize as a wordless bitch, please. “Mary, you know I love you, and I overlook your fraternization with the she-devil—”

“Oh my God, you two are so dramatic,” Mary says. “Can I speak now, or are you going to keep rehashing pointless lesbian drama? Because I’ve aged two years trying to explain that all Sophie needs is a date.”

Ryan just about chokes on her wine.

Mary ignores her spluttering and continues, “Look, Sophie called me because she was invited to her ex’s wedding, and she desperately needs a date. I mean, it’s common practice right? If you go to your ex’s wedding, you need to show up with a hot date on your arm. And normally I would’ve done it, but it just so happens that it’s my sister’s wedding…” 

“Your sister?” Ryan feels like this conversation is occurring underwater all of a sudden. “Alice, or Kate?”

“Kate, obviously,” Mary says. “Alice isn’t gay. Well, maybe a little bit, no one knows what to make of the Safiyah thing.” She visibly pauses, and then grimaces. “So not something I want to remember. The point is, Sophie already told Kate she was bringing a plus one before she found out that Kate was my sister.”

“So she lied. I don’t see why you’re over here asking me to—I don’t even know what you’re asking me to do.”

“I’m asking you to be Sophie’s wedding date,” Mary says. “But not for real, since you two are clearly too stubborn to talk to each other.”

“Hold on, what is there to talk about?” Really, at this point it’s the principle of the thing to hate Sophie Moore, who is stuck-up and standoffish and just a general stick-in-the-mud. Ryan can't be faulted for wanting nothing to do with her.

“Don't get all defensive.” But Mary laughs when she says it, and she holds out the wine bottle like it's a peace offering. “Just think about it, okay? Imagine if it was Angelique getting married and Sophie was your only option for a date. She'd do it for you.”

“No she wouldn't,” Ryan counters, but she needs no deliberation in order to accept a swig from the bottle. “And how do you know I'm her only option?”

“Because Sophie told me she's planning on skipping the wedding since she can't find another date!” Mary cries, and she’s clearly distraught at the very idea; she's worrying her bottom lip insistently, a habit Ryan knows she's trying to break. “Come on, Ryan, please? If not for Sophie, then for me. I really think Kate will be sad if Sophie doesn't go, they're in such a good place now.”

“You’re going to pull the do-it-for-me card now?”

“Yes,” says Mary without a lick of shame. “And as your best friend, you're contractually obligated to do anything for me.”

“Even if I said I'd do this,” Ryan starts, and when Mary squeals in excitement, Ryan stresses again, “Even then, Mary, Sophie won’t agree. She hates me as much as I hate her.”

“Just leave that part to me,” Mary says with all the cadence of an evil mastermind, which means it’s probably time to cut her off from the alcohol.

Thankfully they change the subject to whatever Mary is planning on wearing for said wedding, and Ryan is relieved; if this actually were a serious proposal, she is sure the world would have been ending.

.

.

.

The first time Ryan met Sophie Moore, it had been as ordinary a night as any other.

In a way it was reminiscent of the first time Ryan met Mary; Kate Kane would occasionally DJ at the bar, and Ryan met Mary on the first night she’d come in to support her sister.  Like Mary, Sophie had shown up to watch Kate DJ. Unlike Mary, Sophie had been a total asshole all night. She’d ignored all of Ryan’s attempts at small talk (which was a thing Ryan did with everyone in the interest of tips, it was not flirting, no matter how Mary described it). Then when Sophie’s sister Jordan told her to “flirt back with the cute bartender” (which Ryan still objects to every time she thinks about it), Sophie—who was in earshot of Ryan—replied that Ryan wasn’t her type.

And honestly, Ryan could’ve overlooked all of that. She could have! Sophie Moore had no obligation to find Ryan attractive, or even be polite when Ryan served her, so long as she paid her bill and didn’t cause trouble. But at the end of the night Sophie—still in earshot—had remarked to Jordan that the drinks were subpar, and Ryan was pissed. This went beyond poor consumerism; it was just plain rude! And clearly, Sophie had intended for Ryan to hear it, so it just went to show that Sophie Moore was a snob.

Which is why when Mary comes sweeping into the bar and announces, “Guess what, Ryan—you have a date Saturday night,” Ryan almost drops the glass she’s cleaning.

“Oh no no no,” Ryan hastily interjects, setting the glass aside before she uses it as a weapon. “Do not tell me you actually told Sophie I’d do it.”

“You’re doing your best friend a favor and I love you,” Mary says without a hint of remorse, and she completely ignores Ryan’s slack-jawed response, just happily takes a seat at the bar and lifts a menu as if she doesn’t already have it memorized. “Hey, can you bring me some mozzarella sticks?”

“We’re not open,” Ryan says, snatching said menu back. “Mary. Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you?” Mary squints at her for a second. “I’m sorry, did you or did you not say you’d do it if Sophie agreed?”

“I said Sophie wouldn’t agree, even if I said I would.”

“Well she did agree, and I said you would, so…” Mary looks far too expectant for a dead woman walking. “I think it’s time you two buried the hatchet anyway. This isn’t Family Feud, you know. I feel like the child of a divorce sometimes.”

“You’ve never watched Family Feud in your life, have you?” Ryan shakes her head. “You know what, forget it. I just can’t believe you right now.”

Mary gasps. “You listened to me explain! Are you seriously acting like I’m springing this on you?”

“You made me listen to you!”

“Okay, I feel like you’re missing the point here, Ryan.” Mary says, “Which is why I am trying to promote healthy forgiveness.”

Ryan narrows her eyes. “Did you rehearse that?”

“Forgive me for caring about two of my friends finding mutual respect,” Mary says dramatically. “I guess I’ll just tell Sophie that you flaked, and that she’s going to have to return the dress she bought, and my dad will be devastated because he loves Sophie more than all of us combined…”

“You’re seriously trying to guilt-trip me now?” Ryan groans, and she stares longingly at the bottles on the shelf that she can’t consume. “Fine. Fine! If this really means so much to you, I’ll pretend to tolerate Sophie. But you’re going to have to lend me something to wear, because your family’s too rich to be around.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” Mary beams, throwing her arms over the counter to drag Ryan into an uncomfortable half-hug. “And did I mention there’s an open bar?”

“Well damn, you could’ve led with that,” Ryan says, and Mary swats her with a newly-stolen menu.

“So does this mean you’ll get me mozzarella sticks now?”

“No, Mary, we are still closed.”

.

.

.

What does one wear to a date with the devil?

Ryan ponders this once, then twice, and ultimately goes with the black dress stashed in the very back of her closet that she bought for a funeral she never attended. It’s not fancy—modest enough to wear in a church if that was her thing—which suits her just fine. The last thing she wants is Sophie getting the impression she’s trying to dress up for her, or anything.

She is pairing her casual outfit with some silver hoops when her phone rings. It’s Mary, for the hundredth time today. For as desperate as Mary made Sophie sound, Sophie hasn’t made an actual effort to make sure Ryan was coming; no, that honor is apparently all Mary’s.

“Hi, Mary,” Ryan says, putting her on speaker so she can toss her phone to the side. “What’s up?”

“Hey! I just wanted to call and make sure you’re not escaping out a window right now.”

Ryan has to bite back a scoff. “I'm not a fucking runaway bride,” she says. “Wait. Unless this is all some sick, twisted way to get me married to Sophie Moore and you're lying about your sister's wedding.”

“God, you're the most dramatic person I know.” There is rustling on the other end, like Mary is shuffling through paper. “This is why I did not rule out jumping five stories to get out of this.”

“That’s a very tempting offer now that you mention it.”

“Ugh, you’re going to be insufferable all night, aren’t you?” More rustling. “Okay I did actually have a reason to call you this time. I sent a car over to your house—the driver said he’d get there in fifteen minutes. You guys will stop to pick up Sophie on the way.”

“How romantic,” Ryan quips. “Just me, Sophie, and our Uber driver.”

“Come on, I had to make sure you didn’t kill each other before the wedding even started,” Mary says. “Just be nice to the chauffeur. There’s no amount of money in the world that I could pay him which would compensate him for sitting through your drama.”

“Of course, I’ll be a saint to the chauffeur.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “This might be some pretentious rich people shit but I do have manners, you know.”

Mary exhales. “If I hang up,” she says, “will you promise to behave?”

“Really? That is a serious question you're asking me?”

“I need a yes or no answer,” Mary remains stubbornly steadfast.

A beat. “...yes, I’ll behave.”

“Then I will see you at the party. Love you bye!”

Ryan shakes her head to herself. “Bye,” she says to absolutely no one in particular. Well, disastrous situation aside, she makes the most of her fifteen minutes of freedom: she finishes her makeup, takes a quick shot of vodka for liquid courage, and makes her way downstairs to wait for the car so the driver doesn’t have to deal with the conundrum that is her apartment gate.

The chauffeur is a nice, older guy who holds open Ryan’s door and doesn’t try to make her talk. Instead, he plays jazz music and remarks ever so often about traffic and the weather. The vodka is doing just enough to make Ryan relaxed until, well…they reach Sophie’s door. 

As much as Ryan will fight tooth and nail to admit it, Sophie Moore is unfairly attractive. She emerges in a fitted orange dress, hair swept over her shoulder, and with a grim expression that Ryan can’t even take pleasure in when she knows her own face is practically a mirror.

“Hi, Ryan,” Sophie says stiffly.

“Sophie,” Ryan acknowledges just as formally. And then, they sit in complete silence.

Their chauffeur undoubtedly picks up on the tension; he checks on them from his mirror once or twice, but doesn’t ask if they’re okay, he just plays his music louder. When they arrive at the venue, Ryan pops open the door before he can even walk around to get it, already itching to escape.

Sophie lets him open her door, though, and she tips him even though Ryan knows Mary has already done the same ahead of time. Begrudgingly, Ryan can respect that. 

“I…wanted to thank you,” Sophie says once they’re alone. “For doing this.”

Ryan shrugs. “Well, Mary asked me to,” she says. “So.”

Sophie purses her lips. “Either way,” she says, in a manner that is clearly quite annoyed, “I appreciate it.”

“Mm-hm.” Ryan watches as other guests steadily trickle past them, and she sighs, ready to accept her fate. “Should we go in?”

“Yes, but…” Sophie stops Ryan with a hand to her shoulder before she can actually walk inside. “Can you at least try to look like you want to be here?”

Ryan blinks. “What? Am I not believable enough for you?”

“Not if you walk in there like I’m leading you to a guillotine, no,” Sophie replies, brow crinkling. “You know, there is actually no downside to acting like we would be dating.”

“Yes, except the part where people would think I was dating you,” Ryan huffs, and Sophie’s expression twists into an offended glare.

“Why did you agree, then?”

“Because there was a whole thing with Mary, and—” Ryan stops before she’s ahead. “It doesn’t matter. I showed up, didn’t I?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Sophie mutters without any sincerity, and Ryan follows her inside dreaming of that open bar.

.

.

.

Ryan meets the bride just as she’s two drinks in, a third flute of champagne raised to her lips as Sophie not-so-subtly elbows her to pay attention.

“Hi,” Kate Kane says, holding out her hand which Ryan belatedly realizes is for her. “Nice to finally meet the elusive girlfriend.”

“Yes, we were starting to think you didn't exist,” Alice, the other Kane sister, chimes in; she's staring Ryan down with an eerily searching gaze, and Ryan subtly shifts closer to Sophie.

“Well, here I am,” Ryan says, unsurely resting a hand on Sophie's waist. Sophie clearly isn't expecting it, because she starts, throwing Ryan a sharp glance over her shoulder.

“How fun,” Alice says gleefully. “What a nice big, happy family we’ll become. When are you two getting married? I can officiate now that I’m ordained.”

“Alice,” Mary hisses. “You can’t just ask people when they’re getting married.”

“Why not? This wedding is basically a parade of Sophie’s exes. If Ryan doesn’t marry her after all this, it’s a waste of a date.” 

Ryan twists to look at Sophie at the words “parade of Sophie’s exes.” Sophie, at least, looks adequately mortified. 

“She’s kidding,” Mary laughs, high-pitched and nervous as Alice just shrugs. “Hey, we should go take a picture with Dad. Just the Kane sisters! Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Okay, but if I have to hear another passive-aggressive rant about the ceremony, I’m going to kill myself and everyone in the room with me,” Alice’s voice fades away as Mary frantically shoves her (and Kate) along.

Sophie clears her throat. “So that was my ex,” she says. “Kate, I mean.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ryan should be taking delight in the way Sophie is clearly uncomfortable, but in a strange turn of events, she can’t. In fact, she feels kind of bad.

“I need a drink,” Sophie sighs, and Ryan wordlessly holds out her glass. Surprised, Sophie eyes it up and down, but accepts it all the same. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Ryan cranes her neck to peer at Mary, who is indeed wrangling her sisters towards Jacob Kane. “Hey. Question: Mary said that Jacob Kane pretty much loves you?”

Sophie half-coughs, half-sputters her next sip. “That’s…not entirely accurate.”

“But not untrue?” Ryan quirks an eyebrow, and Sophie’s shoulders slump like she’s lost a battle she hadn’t begun.

“I used to work with him,” Sophie confesses. “That’s how I met Kate. I guess I was kind of his favorite employee or whatever, but—that was a long time ago. It’s embarrassing.”

“You don’t strike me as someone who gets embarrassed easily,” Ryan notes, and Sophie tilts her head, pursuing her lips like she has to think about it.

“Maybe,” Sophie finally admits, “but showing up today dateless would’ve for sure hit the limit.”

Ryan nods thoughtfully. “So that’s why you were so desperate to bring me,” she says. “Even though you don’t think I’m your type.”

This time, Sophie fully chokes on her champagne. “W-what?”

“You don’t have to pretend.” Ryan rolls her eyes. “I heard you tell your sister that. I’m not, like, offended. It was still rude, but—”

“I didn’t know you could hear us,” Sophie says, and in a perplexing turn of events, she looks quite apologetic about the idea. “I didn’t mean it. I just…said it to get my sister off my back.”

“Oh.” Even as the words sink in, Ryan’s brain can’t seem to form a rational response to this information. Or stop the fact that when Sophie bites her lip in anticipation, Ryan’s eyes are automatically drawn to Sophie’s mouth. “I thought you kind of meant for me to hear it.”

“Is that why you think I’m an asshole?” Sophie blinks. “Seriously?”

“Well why did you think I was so mad at you?”

“I thought you just had a problem with police!”

Ryan sucks in a breath. “Oh, no, I definitely do. I guess my reaction was warranted.”

“Real mature,” Sophie says, narrowing her eyes ever-so-slightly, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips so Ryan knows she isn’t taking it personally.

“No, for real, do you still work with the police? Because this is so not going to work if you do. My acting skills can only go so far,” Ryan says.

Sophie scoffs. “You’ll survive,” she says, and twists to peek back at the busy bar. “Should we join the line for another drink?”

Ryan follows her line of sight and resolutely shakes her head. “I have a better idea.”

.

.

.

“You seriously brought a flask to a wedding with an open bar?”

“If you’re going to keep complaining, I’m going to take my whiskey elsewhere,” Ryan threatens half heartedly, but she gets a heady rush when Sophie tilts her head back to take another drink, and knows then and there she’s going nowhere else besides this coat check closet.

“I feel like I’m in high school,” Sophie says, passing the flask back; her fingertips brush against Ryan’s for longer than necessary. “Was the hiding necessary?”

“Duh,” Ryan says, taking another sip. “Mary would never let me live it down if she saw. She’s already given me so much shit about—” She pauses, not sure if she should continue, and Sophie gives a disbelieving laugh.

“You really didn’t want to be my date, did you? God, you’re so petty.”

“Fake date,” Ryan corrects her hastily. “And you seriously can’t blame me when you were the one being rude as hell in the first place.”

“But it wasn’t really what I thought!”

“Oh so I am your type,” Ryan challenges, and Sophie looks away, blushing.

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to bruise your ego.”

“That is the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” Ryan feels the whiskey like liquid warmth, settling right in her chest, and she grins when Sophie groans. “Come on, Sophie. I’m going to make you work for it.”

“Fine, I’m sorry for…being rude. Even if it was a little white lie and you weren’t supposed to hear it.” Sophie holds out her hand for the flask again, and Ryan is feeling magnanimous enough to let her have it. 

“Still not the best, but I’ll take it.” Ryan leans her head against the wall and sighs, a little sleepy and a little tipsy but otherwise quite content. “You know, you’re not that bad. Even though you don’t have an actual chance with me since you work for the Gotham PD, I think we can be friends.”

“Oh my God, I don’t even work for them anymore,” Sophie says. “I’m—between jobs.” Ryan watches her wince, like she hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and Ryan closes her eyes and just hums.

“Been there,” she muses. “Mary saved my ass by getting me a job. If you want some pointers, I’m sure I can make a bartender out of you.”

Sophie gives a huff of a laugh. “My mom would actually die if I told her I was training to be a bartender.”

“Hey, it takes a lot to do what we do,” Ryan says. “Not many people can perfect the art of a Long Island Iced Tea, let me tell you.”

“Except for you?” Sophie is already sitting close to share the whiskey, but when she turns to whisper this teasingly, Ryan is struck by how close their faces are. Like if they shifted even two inches, their noses would be brushing.

It takes Ryan a beat to recover, but she manages: “Obviously. It keeps all the customers coming back.”

Sophie’s mouth twitches like she wants to laugh again, but she settles for a smile, amused and plainly unconvinced. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” she says, and she turns away, their closeness vanishing in an instant. “Do you think anyone is missing us?”

“Mary probably assumes I’ve killed you by now,” Ryan says. “But everyone else probably thinks we snuck off for a hookup.”

“At someone’s wedding?” Sophie sounds positively scandalized at the idea. “That’s…crazy. And us? Do we give off that vibe?”

Ryan watches Sophie squirm and finds it, strangely, very cute. Fuck. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but, couples generally hook up. And weddings are pretty much the #1 place where they do it. I’ve seen it happen.”

“Because you go to so many weddings, or is this just a statistic all bartenders know?”

“Don’t hate the player,” Ryan says, waving the flask to make her point, and Sophie finally breaks down into real laughter.

“Oh, God,” she exhales afterward, “what time is it? I think you’ve somehow managed to keep me at this wedding longer than I wanted to. I had a plan to stick around for like an hour or two just to be nice, but…”

“But I’m just that great of a date, I know,” Ryan says, if only to make Sophie blush again.

“Fake date,” Sophie says pointedly. “Remember?”

Ryan bites her lip. “Right,” she says, and just as Sophie is shifting like she’s about to stand up and ruin the moment, Ryan blurts out: “But what if it wasn’t fake?”

Sophie freezes. “What?”

“We could make this a real date,” Ryan says, heart working so hard it feels like it’s about to race out of her body. “If you wanted it to be.”

“Seriously?” Sophie’s mouth falls open slightly, and she says nothing else, just looks at Ryan with those big brown eyes and heart-shaped mouth agape.

“Unless I’m really not your type and you’re just trying to save my feelings,” Ryan tries to quip, but as Sophie seems to struggle through every conflicted expression known to man, Ryan’s hopes fall into the pit of her stomach. “You know what? Never mind. Obviously that’s not what this is and I’m—” She blindly shoves her flask back into her jacket so she can stand.

But before she can even get away (and fall into the beckoning embrace of the open bar), there’s a hand tugging her back down, and then Sophie Moore is kissing her. It’s a rushed, chaste kiss during which Ryan is definitely too stiff, but it does the trick; Ryan stumbles right back down, and Sophie jerks away, fingertips curled into the collar of Ryan’s jacket without letting go.

“You were talking too much,” Sophie breathes, and Ryan nods at her dumbly.

The only thing her brain can possibly formulate a thought for is: “Wait, so this whole time I really was your type?”

“Shut up,” Sophie says, and when she yanks Ryan back in for another kiss, Ryan is already leaning in at the same time, kissing Sophie as well as her smile allows.

(She’ll have to thank Mary for this later. Much, much later).

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

I Finally Finished My TAU’s 6th Year Tauathon Fic, Yay!  I’m So Tired Now.  I’m Gonna Take A Break now, after...

I finish proofreading and editing that fic I have been working on for the Transcendence Zine here on tumblr.  I hope they are still taking it, I have been working on it periodically while also writing at the Tauathon fic that I have been working on at the same time.  

And funnily enough, I actually got that tauathon fic done first.  To be fair, my tauathon fic was shorter.  It is over 8, 000 words which isn't short, but it still shorter than that other fic I have been working on for the zine.  Which I hope isn't too long for a zine.  I haven't really participated in a zine before this.  I haven't done or/& bought much zine stuff before this.  

In my free time, I am for sure gonna be participating in more zines like this, not for just Gravity Falls and TAU, but other fandoms I’m in like HxH/Hunter x Hunter and Undertale to name some (some other favorite things of mine).  I'm also gonna be starting to buy some more zines, probably physical, because I prefer I that.  Will try being the key word, because of money, but I really want to do that.  

But yeah, I haven’t really entered a zine before, so I hope my fic isn't too long for it, and that they are still taking entries.  I told them I was entering, but I don't know.  I have been busy writing posts, comments, replies, and most importantly fics lately that I haven't really been using tumblr and etc. a lot lately.  Including going on the TAU zine’s tumblr.  

Mainly in order to not get distracted and get those things done.  Including the 2 TAU fics I have been working on.  One for the Tauathon and one for the TAU zine.  I really wanted to get those 2 fics done before going on tumblr more.  And with one of the done (tauathon one), and the other in major editing/proofreading stage (the TAU zine), I have a bit more time to post and do stuff on tumblr and other places.  Not much since I have a lot of posts, comments, replies, and etc. to get done, some I have delated too long, eiter out of shyness or being busy that I need to get done as well.  And the TAU zine fic that needs finishing and polishing.  

The funny thing is that I started that fic before the tauathon zine by quite a bit.  But with actually knowing the (kinda) due date of the tauathon fic unlike the zine one (at least last time I checked.  Which has been a bit.  Crossing my fingers' that my fic isnt too long, and too late to enter into it.  I have worked just as hard if not harder on that zine fic as the tauathon one.  Which is a lot), and haven't had finished and posted it yet a few days or so that date (Oct. 5th), pushed me to get it done quicker and first.  Even though I started it second.  

Though, It is also taking me longer to do the zine fic, because it is longer (not by a lot, but it still is), somehow even more complicated (I will admit, both these fics are a bit convoluted.  I like my complex stuff.  Even though I'm also super insecure if my writing is good enough to handle want to do and write.  Its fricken great.), and needs a lot of proof reading and editing to do.  

Something that usually takes me just as long as writing the actual fic, if not longer.  Since I’m the type of person who just plans and writes in rushes, then edits an grammar, better flow, person and pov, and etc. stuff later on.  And the zine fic has a lot more weird, different formatting, povs and 1st/2nd/and/or 3rd person stuff than the tauathon, and all of those things some of the things Im most worried about getting right, consistent, or at least making sense (and being as as readable and well-written as possible).  

Honestly, I would probably post more fics, if wasn't for me thinking that I really need to work on those things (as well as sometimes getting too wordy, a bit convoluted, and expositiony/explanationy with stuff.  I need to be/do better with that.  Need to also work on being even more natural, and also not hurting my readers brains too much or confusing them), and being more nervous about posting stuff partially because of that.  

Really, I would have gotten a beta for both my fics, because I would really love the help.  But the tauathon fic I just really wanted to get posted for the tauathon, and the fic for the zine, I didn't know if was allowed to let other people look it, even for beta’ing, so yeah.  Plus, I didn't really know how to get a beta, at least not as quick as would like for these fics.  

Anyways, maybe I should finally check out the TAU discord(s) in general, but also for getting some help and betas, because I would love such things.  Also, been meaning to check out TAU discord, but I haven't been able to really use discord for awhile.  But yeah, Im for sure gonna be checking it/them/TAU discord(s) out soon, because it will be great.  And just want to stuff on discord in general, its been awhile.  

Saying all this, Im happy I got the Tauathon fic done.  I have a post down below linking it to where I posted it on AO3 if anyone wants to read it.  I don’t if I shared that post and my story the right way.  I see a lot of people, both posting the fic and liking other places like AO3 or/& Wattpad.  But I didn't know if I should do that, or if my fic was too long to do that.  So I just shared my AO3 fic here.  If you think I should also post the whole fic here, and just link other places instead of (or maybe even as well) doing what I did, please tell me, I would love to know?  And it wouldn't even be just for that fic though, it will be for future ones as well.  

If you think I should do post the whole fic here and then link it, I will probably make another post then.  Probably wont delete the original post though, because that will probably be the easier way for people to just read on AO3, plus I like that post and tags I did for it.  Wish me luck on finishing that other TAU fic (for the zine) I have been working on, it is even longer and harder to do than my 1st one.  The idea, format, and concept itself is just for the most part my complex, then when you the other stuff, it is even trickier.  

I'm also gonna finally be checking out that TAU zine tumblr again to see if I'm not pass the due date.  I admit another reason I'm putting that off, is because I feel really nervous if am actually, since I have worked on the fic for it, and think its quite good.  This always happens when replying and checking out stuff for me, I sometimes get very nervous, then I feel bad because I sometimes take awhile to do such things, I have kept people waiting for awhile, which I'm definitely not doing on purpose, but I still do.  Though, stuff also takes me awhile, usually because it is long and want to be really good, but still.  

So yeah, I should take a break after finishing that fic, and posting something on AO3 for the 1st time, but Im not since I still have that other TAU fic to finish, which I am gonna finish, it has already been long enough.  Once I'm done with it though, I'm finally taking a break, because I am really tired.  This has taken a lot of energy out of me, esp. with my need to do always do stuff long and try to do it as good as possible at the time.  

Alright done posting for awhile, at least until I finish my other fic, and take a break.  Though, I might do some reblogs, likes, and etc. in the meantime while finishing up that fic.  Though, when I say no breaks and other stuff till I get that fic done, I will probably still read some fics, watch some videos, and make some other comments/replies, because I need more variety, and I need some breaks intermittently, even if not full-on ones, because I need some kind of small breaks.  

I will probably keep on writing that fic while doing most of those things, because I like to do things in long bursts, because if I don't it can be hard to finish stuff even if I want to, so yeah.  Anyways, see you everyone, this was a nice and like most of all my stuff long, talk!

[todefine-istolimit]

It Don’t Run in Our Blood- Chapter 3

Au: royalty

Rating: Mature

Ships: royality, dukexiety, loceit

Warnings: major character death (but not really), sympathetic dark sides

Summary: Roman is a prince in love with Patton, a commoner. Remus is a knight who has fallen in love with his trusted servant Virgil. Logan is the royal adviser who’s Love was lost at sea (But he’s not really dead.  think princess bride here). Now the trouble is navigating laws, love, and social conventions, all while carrying around shiny swords! ((Title from Royals by Lorde))

If you prefer to read it on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602698/chapters/51510424

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: welp here we go with chapter three, a little Remus perspective and pining~ (sorry I took forever to post again, this has actually been sitting in my docs for weeks and I just haven’t had time to edit it until today)

Remus stood by the door to the armoury watching for a moment as Virgil polished his armour. Virgil was like muscular, this had escaped Remus until yesterday when he joked about Virgil staring at him naked. Then Remus had realized he wished it was true, he wished Virgil would look at him like that. 

Last night he had been hit with dreams that the situation had been the other way around and Remus had been the one staring.

Remus had a crush and he was dying because Virgil could have literally anyone he could possibly want and there was no way in hell his first choice was gonna be Remus after how much they argued and bicker. Especially since Remus was a prince and Virgil had always expressed disdain for the rich of the kingdom.

He cleared his throat and Virgil whipped around. 

He visably relaxed when he saw it was Remus. Remus shook off the feelings that evoked and spoke, “Virgil, my brother has invited me on a trip to the summer mansion in the woods to ‘hunt’ and hide from the government. So, I will be leaving immediately to go disembowel animals with Logan to cover for my brother spending time with his boyfriend. If you would please saddle my horse then you can have a few days off to yourself to get boyfriend or kill a man your choice." 

Remus hoped Virgil chose the second option, why did he keep bringing up Virgil getting a boyfriend? That was the last thing he wanted. The words just kept falling out of his mouth without meaning for them too. He hated the idea of Virgil being with someone else, but that was stupid because he wasn’t with Virgil. 

He hoped that Virgil didn’t like his brother.

"You’re going out into the forest with just his majesty for back up? Please, as if. I’m coming with you,” Virgil rolled his eyes as if this was a given.

Remus would love for Virgil to come along but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to stop himself from flirting with him if they were out in the woods without as many prying eyes.

“It’s not just with my brother, Logan will be there as well, and Patton.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “Yeah and Logan is the only one out of the four of you who keeps a level head in a crisis, I’m coming.”

Virgil could have phrased that last part many different ways that might have helped Remus’ mind not snicker a little at it.

Remus shook his head managing to restrain himself from just saying what was in his head for once, "Then I’ll just end up protecting you from being killed by assassins who would take your head for a trophy, so stay. You’ll just be a distraction,” Remus said being entirely truthful because even now Virgil was quite distracting.

“Oh please assassins aren’t even the concern. In those wood the thing to worry about is rock slides and you know it. And anyway, distracting from what? Making awkward conversation with Logan and trying to kill enough animals to make it seem like you guys were actually hunting? I’m the best hunter out of us anyway. ” 

Virgil was right. Logan was the best swordsman out of them, Remus was the best at general combat, but Virgil was the only hunter worth his salt among them. 

Remus was running out of good reasons for Virgil to stay.

Virgil shrugged, “But fine, I have a few days off. I might just so happen to wander into the forest following the same path that you guys did.” He smirked, knowing he won.

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair, so he really didn’t have a choice in it anyway,  “Fine just come then! What do I care? Get ready to go.”

Virgil grinned and Remus was almost certain he was going to have a heart attack if Virgil didn’t stop being this way immiediatly. Remus didn’t know what “this way” was, but he knew Virgil needed to stop being it or Remus would die from the strain of not saying anything.

The two of them made their way to the stable and Virgil started pulling out all the horse tack

Then Remus realized something, “Well if your coming you should go pick up Patton, it’s less suspicions for you to just be picking up your friend for a trip into the woods." 

"Good point, here, you get the horses strapped up, ” Virgil ordered and dumped the saddle into Remus’ arms. Remus immediately lost his grip on it and it fell to the ground, but Virgil was already walking away. Remus was almost certain that was on purpose.

Remus knew that if it was anyone else doing that he would have fired them several times over, but this guy… it was like Remus was a puppet and anywhere Virgil tugged he just jerked in that direction. That should be scary, but Virgil had more than earned his trust.

He decided that if Virgil would be with them that weekend then he would tell Virgil how he felt. He hated having secrets and this one had been weighing on him for like almost a whole day now.

~some time later~

They were riding through the woods all five of them and Remus was chattering endlessly.

“-And of course those are just the natural disasters! But what we really should thinking about is the bandits who would just love to kidnap Patton and Virgil and hold them for ransom!”

“Okay I get Patton by why me?” Virgil asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Because they would ransom you I already said that, ” Remus rolled his eyes 

“Well obviously he’s saying he would pay large sums of money for your safety. Which would indicate that he values your continued existence,” Logan said dryly, Remus had made the mistake of telling Logan about his crush.

“Yeah something like that,” Remus looked down at the past below him and his horse, hoping that nobody saw the blush building on his cheeks.

“Mr. Logan your embarrassing them!” Patton whispered.

“'Mr. Logan’?” Logan murmured in confusion.

Virgil cleared his throat, “Well if I had any I, I would pay large sums of it for you too." 

Remus’ breath caught in his throat and he made a sound akin to a rabbit being struck by an arrow.

Roman grown loudly from the leading horse, "I cannot believe that after all this time the best you can offer each other is 'I wouldn’t let you get murdered by kidnappers’. Is that really the highest compliment you can offer each other?”

Virgil laughed, “Oh yeah your majesty let me just start being like you when Patton and constantly dote on how beautiful my prince is. Erm well that is- it- well not my prince of course! That wasn’t what I meant and… uh sorry.”

Remus didn’t mind being Virgil's… wait no focus diffuse the tension!

“Aww Virgil do you think I’m beautiful?” Remus laughed. Virgil was beautiful in the way the ocean was during a storm. Throwing boats against the rocks, shattering them. You were a little afraid of what would happen if you went too close. You might lose yourself. 

And die a horrific painful death but that part didn’t apply here.

“So what was that you were saying about wild animals?” Virgil said changing the subject not at all smoothly.l

“Yes!” He said looking around frantically for something to talk about, “yes there’s wild animals all over these woods. Rabbits, squirrels that the chew your toes off of your feet and rip out your hair!”

“Remus they’re squirrels not exactly monsters,” Virgil laughed

Remus stopped short,  “What did you just call me?”

Virgil stopped too and looked at Remus with wide eyes realizing what he said, “I’m sorry! I meant your highness, sire! I didn’t mean to call you by your name, of course…” He exhaled heavily, “God I’m just going to go ride at the back of the group.”

And Virgil fell back as the rest of them continue riding leaving Logan riding in between himself and Remus.

It was a long ride after that.

tag list: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @melodiread @itismakyo @dabookwormcat @lo-ceit @gayformlessblob @ollyollyoxinfree

[knightowl725]

Healing in a Graveyard, Ch. 4

Fandom: Critical Role

A continuation of my work for Fjorclay Week 2020′s modern au prompt. I make some important notes about really the whole fic on the ao3 post. Short version: Landlords dating tenants is not cool, at all. I’ve been writing this with the knowledge that Caduceus wouldn’t abuse that power dynamic. But in the real world? Everyone should make their own choices, but I, personally, do not condone it.

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23828932/chapters/57397261

Chapter Four: Pink Blossoms

He awoke in the morning to the sound of metallic clanging.

“It’s breakfast ti~ime,” Jester’s cheery voice sang from outside his door as she banged - what? Pots and pans? - together. “It’s time to wake u~up!”

He heard distant, high-pitched cursing from the direction of Nott’s room, followed by a giggle from Jester and her thudding back down the stairs.

Fjord threw himself out of bed, slinking into the bathroom for just a few moments to wake himself up. He’d slept like shit. Hadn’t he set an alarm to wake up early? Caduceus had said he could help out later in the day so he could sleep in, but he’d still wanted to be up for meditation.

So much for that.

Fjord made his way downstairs and through the kitchen into the dining room, where everyone but Nott was settling around a wide array of breakfast foods. There were tall stacks of pancakes, waffles, piles of fruit, syrup in different flavors, breakfast sandwiches, bagels, and more laid out, all in their vegan varieties. Fjord wasn’t sure about the vegan version of some of these items, but after everything else he’d eaten that week, he was willing to try.

Caduceus stood nearby, having just set down the final plate of food. He looked rather pleased with himself in his purple apron. A bit of light from the window was falling on his face just so, and Fjord thought that he looked rather handsome in that image.

Which was a weird thought, and one he squashed back down. He didn’t need to get into that weird admiration-crush area right now. In fact, it might be the exact last thing he needed.

Fjord took his seat, Nott following shortly after. They all tore into the food, shockingly quiet for a few moments as everyone was lost to the joys of breakfast. What had seemed to Fjord like a ridiculous amount of food turned out not to be, as the Nein neatly polished it off.

“That was so good Caduceus,” Beau said, slouching a bit with a hand on her stomach.

The others echoed their thanks to a pleased Caduceus. Fjord couldn’t help the thought that Caduceus was the kind who needed people to fret over. He supposed the Nein was about as perfect a match as any.

Fjord considered spending his day studying, maybe trying to look at job postings. The thought reminded him of his rough night, of regretting ever leaving The Champions’ house even temporarily. But now, in the light of day and with a stomach full of pastries, he wondered if maybe it wasn’t the right choice. Maybe, if there was such a thing as fate, he was meant to be here now. Surrounded by friends, with the only stranger becoming a fast friend as well, in a beautiful nature escape, under the eye of a goddess that asks you to protect and preserve rather than consume and destroy.

Any of his plans for the day were dashed by his friends, who coaxed him into joining them at a pop up carnaval. It was a day full of Jester-levels of chaos, spurred on by Nott that he gave up trying to contain after about an hour. At one point, Caleb had gone off to read, Beau was trying to impress Jester by winning her a giant unicorn plush at a game, Nott was on top of a popcorn stand, and Yasha was showing a juggler how to actually perform.

He took a deep sigh, pulled out his phone, and recorded a clip of all of his friends in their shenanigans to send to Molly. Then, on a whim, he sent it to Caduceus as well. He was kinda part of the group now, right? That was the impression Fjord got, even if Caduceus couldn’t join them today. Visiting his sister, he’d said.

By the time they made it back to the Xhorhaus, everyone still laughing and jostling one another, it was nearly sunset.

Caduceus was sitting in his rocking chair, wearing an endearing straw hat that made Fjord smile instinctively.

“Caduceus~!” Jester called out. “The carnival was so much fun. Look what Beau won me!”

She raised the over-stuffed unicorn plush high overhead with pride.

“You should join us next time,” Fjord said.

He smiled wide, eyes crinkling. “I’d like that.”

He stood up, a little slowly as though he’d been sitting for a while. “Would you all mind very much if we fended for ourselves for dinner? I’m rather tired today.”

There was a chorus of, “of course!” and “no problem!” from the group as they poured inside.

“Ah, Fjord? Could I speak with you for a moment?” Caduceus asked. Fjord paused, then stepped out of the way of the others. Had he done something wrong?

Ah, shit. He’d forgotten.

“Right. I still need to earn my keep for today,” he said with a little laugh. “What should I work on?”

“It’s not that,” he said, distracted and gazing off across the Grove. “Actually, I’d like to skip our project work today, if you don’t mind. We can call it even.”

“Caduceus, are you alright? I mean, it’s not that I’m not grateful for a break, but you seem...tired.”

He met Fjord’s eyes to smile. “I am a bit worn out today, I’m afraid. But just tired. Calliope’s gym is very busy on the weekends. Too many people.”

Ah, that made sense. Fjord wasn’t bothered by crowds too much most days, but it was obvious that Caduceus, while sociable and friendly, was a more introverted man. In fact, it was a little strange to imagine the towering pink firbolg anywhere other than in the Grove.

“Of course. Is there anything I could do to help?” Fjord asked. “I could try making you something to eat? I’m, uh, not familiar with much vegan cooking, but I’m sure I could put together some of those sandwiches you left out the other day? The moss ones?”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose--”

“I insist. We could call it my work for the day, if need be.”

Caduceus considered it. “Well, alright. I would appreciate it, Fjord.”

Fjord stepped towards the door. “You get settled again. I’ll bring out some food and tea, and then we can talk.”

“Right, thank you.”

Fjord disappeared indoors, suddenly daunted by the idea of cooking anything for Caduceus. And he offered to make tea? Caduceus was the type to make tea properly, to brew it at the perfect temperature for the exact amount of time that particular tea required.

He ventured into the kitchen, carefully sifting through the shelves so as not to upset Caduceus’s inscrutable system. He found the sandwich ingredients easily enough - it was the kind of recipe you could piece together just by looking at the meal. The tea he relied on the Internet for. A search told him honey lemon tea might be an easy one to make. He watched a quick tutorial and made himself meticulous notes.

After a bit of time, he had two plates of sandwiches, neatly cut in half, and two cups of tea. He placed them strategically on a large tray with a little saucer of honey, a tiny spoon, and a sliced lemon. He’d noticed Caduceus often added them to his teas, so hopefully that would be enough if he hadn’t gotten the flavor right.

Caduceus was still outside, his empty tea cup on the little rounded table, slightly unbalanced. Fjord set down the tray, shifting it so Caduceus’s half was closest to him, then sitting on the bench.

“Thank you, Fjord,” Caduceus said.

“I hope I did it justice.”

“I’m certain you did. You’re a quick learner.”

They enjoyed a quiet moment, the warmth of the day beginning its shift into a cool night.

“Did you enjoy the carnival?” Caduceus asked after a few moments, his sandwiches gone and tea between his hands. He always held it up to his chest like that, especially when he was sitting idly. It was a little cute.

“Yes, though it was tiring in its own way,” Fjord said. “You may have seen the video I sent.”

Caduceus chuckled. “I showed Calliope, and she got a good laugh out of that. Still can’t puzzle out why Nott was up on the popcorn stand.”

“I think the vendor said something that offended her? I don’t know.”

“Ah, that reminds me,” Caduceus said, straightening a bit. “I needed to talk to you.”

“Right.” Fjord felt the pit in his stomach return.

“Calliope runs a gym, and she has a few people she’s brought on staff,” he said. “She’s very proud, we all are. She normally spends her time between all the tasks, training, running the business, working reception, and the like. But she’s gotten a bit overwhelmed with the gym’s success.”

“Understandable,” Fjord said.

Caduceus nodded. “She told me she’s been having a hard time finding people she likes to help her out more. She really wants to find a part-time receptionist. I think she had one already, but she needs another. I mentioned I knew someone looking for work, and how you’d been helping me all week.”

“Oh,” Fjord said, unable to form any words beyond that.

Caduceus tilted his head thoughtfully. “She asked a lot of questions, most I couldn’t really answer, but she wanted to know if you’d like to speak with her about the job.”

“Oh, wow. Okay.”

“I told her I would ask, but that you might have other things planned. I don’t want to assume or push anything on you, but I do think you would like working at the gym. And it’s important to Calliope that her employees be, at least, accepting of the Wildmother, and I know you’ve been respectful of Her.”

“Of-of course.” Fjord took a deep breath. A job? The pay couldn’t be worse than it was at the cafe, so as long as he got the same minimum hours...Which it sounded like the gym was doing well enough to need him around a bit...And wasn’t it close by?

“I, um, I’d certainly like to talk to her more about it,” Fjord finally said. “I can’t promise anything, but I am interested.”

Caduceus brightened. “Good! I know it’s far from decided, but wouldn’t it work out just so nicely? I’d like for Calliope to have trustworthy folks around her, and she could use someone who is good with people on her staff. She’s a little rough, but she’d be much better to you than some of these other folks have.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Fjord had always had some level of charm, even in his more awkward moments. It wasn’t a surprise to hear, but somehow hearing it from Caduceus made him flush.

“Here, let me get you her number.”

Fjord entered Calliope into his phone after a few attempts at getting her name right.

“I’ll send her a text tonight. Unless you think I should call her?”

“I think a text is fine. I’m the technology-challenged one of the family, not her.”

Caduceus smiled at Fjord’s laughter. They finished up their tea, talking a little more about their day. Soon it was dark, with speckled stars overhead and invisible crickets chirping away. They said their good nights, and Fjord breezed through his nightly routine. Wash his clothes, brush his teeth, file at his tusks, check that his assignments were all in order, plan what he might need to study tomorrow, finish laundry, then crawl into bed.

Lying in the dark of his room, he pulled out his phone and stared at the new contact.

It didn’t hurt to ask about the job, right?

In the dark of night, all alone, he felt those familiar hooks dig into his chest, like something weighed him down. Avantika would be so angry if he took another job. It was as good as saying he wasn’t coming back. He might lose all his other things. All that time invested. All the comfort in having someone else to make his decisions.

But it was so damned warm here. The Blooming Grove, the Xhohaus, it was like a dream. Was it even possible that it would stay? If he reached for it, would it just vanish?

Mind shifting between possibilities, the cold comfort of pain well-known versus the warm but terrifying unknown, Fjord fell asleep with his phone on his chest and a single text message he didn’t quite remember sending.

Hey Calliope, this is Fjord, the guy Caduceus mentioned. He said you might have an opening for a front desk role at your gym, and that I should contact you. I’ve got a few years of experience in customer service, and I spent years on various ships doing all kinds of odd jobs. If you still have that opening, I can send you over my full resume if you’d like to talk more.

~~

He dreamt of the ocean. He was standing on the edge of a rocky outcropping, staring out into the softly turning waves. They stretched out before him, intimidating. Awe-inspiring. Eternal. Powerful.

He looked up into a bright blue sky, watching as it shifted. A cloud, or a face? A face made of a cloud, maternal, grew to encompass the sky.

~~

When Fjord awoke his mind raced with the...conversation he’d had with the cloud, the promise he’d made. His heart raced with his mind, and he took a moment just to breathe. Process.

The sun was just beginning to fill the room. Fjord looked around. It was the same room he’d woken in, what, six times now. It was his seventh day in the Xhorhaus. It was his last day in the Xhorhaus.

He planted his feet on the wooden floor, seeing his phone discarded face-down on the floor. He ignored it for now, facing himself in the mirror as he had done merely days ago. Days and yet a lifetime.

He looked disheveled. His hair was still too long, too gray for his age. His face was clean, fuller. His eyes were clear, his slouch more natural and less burdened. He looked...stronger. Somehow. Maybe not physically. Those kinds of changes didn’t happen overnight, after all, but still.

A flash of pink caught his eye, and he looked to the houseplant sitting on the dresser. It had flowered overnight, from nothing to a vibrant pink, pointed sort of flower. He stood and approached the plant, barely grazing the flower with his fingertips. He knew that shade of pink.

It was surreal. He didn’t know if he was still dreaming or experiencing a mental break, but some deep, certain part of him knew it was neither. He dressed and went through his morning routine with a strange calmness over him. When he returned to his room, another shock awaited.

He turned back to his bed, intending on gathering his phone and making his bed, but more color caught his eye. Outside his window, that large, beautiful tree he’d come to admire had burst into color. It’s usually vibrant green leaves were now overwhelmed by bright pink flowers.

Caduceus stood beneath the petals, dressed in the long teal-pink robe-esque coat he’d worn earlier in the week. His back was to Fjord, a staff in one hand while the other extended out to catch a falling petal.

Fjord pried open the old window and leaned out. “Caduceus!”

Caduceus turned at the shout of his name. “Fjord? Look at this! I’ve never seen--”

“It’s amazing! Wait a minute, I’m-I’m coming downstairs.”

Fjord hurried from his room, leaving his window and door open in his haste. He tore out the front door, leaping down the porch steps to jog to the tree.

Caduceus was waiting, smiling with childlike delight as he was gently showered in pink. Petals had caught in his hair, a near-matching color. He laughed.

“I’ve never seen this happen, never heard of it happening,” Caduceus said. “I… I should take a picture. At some point. For my family.”

“I think I--” Fjord caught himself. Who was he to act as if he might be the cause of this? A minor miracle amidst another family’s home for centuries, where they had all worshipped a goddess he stumbled across in a dream, and he was going to try and claim it was about him?

“Do you know something, Fjord?” Caduceus asked in sincere curiosity.

“No, I couldn’t possibly. I just…”

Caduceus watched him expectantly, wise eyes waiting for him to come clean.

“I… I had a dream last night. About the Wildmother.”

Caduceus straightened, leaning towards him in intense interest.

“She asked me… To serve her, I think. Like you do, but different?” Fjord relayed the dream, the vision of the ocean, all that the Wildmother had told him, the promise he made, even the flower on his houseplant.

Caduceus’s smile slowly widened until it looked like it might split his face in his joy. “This is wonderful, Fjord!”

“Is it?” Fjord said. “I’m a bit nervous, if I’m honest.”

“You’ve been lost to this darkness for some time, I understand. Something drew you to it.”

Fjord looked down for a moment. “I...wanted guidance, I suppose. Purpose. Not to figure it out alone.”

“The Wildmother can give you those things, if you’d like for her to. And from what you’ve shared, I think some part of you might.”

“I’m sorry,” Fjord said. “I don’t mean to make this about me, I’m sure--”

“It is about you,” Caduceus said, almost confused. “She has chosen you to join her following, to take under her wing and her protection. There are no coincidences Fjord. This tree did not burst into flower for the first time in my life the night after you accepted its goddess by chance. She gave you a sign, several of them. First, when you were brought to her temple here, then when you met me, and more this morning.”

Fjord didn’t know what to say. He looked up at Caduceus. The man was smiling down at him, brimming with joy and pride. Was Caduceus proud of him?

He felt something push at his eyes.

Caduceus looked up into the tree. “This is a blessing, Fjord. I sensed you were meant for greater things than serving destruction, but it seems She has surprised me once again.”

Fjord managed a laugh. “She is certainly surprising.”

“Today is a special day,” Caduceus said, still smiling. “Would you help me finish breakfast? I think I’d like to bring it out here.”

“Of course.”