#more sun soon ^tm

[playpausepass]

Aight, think im cooking with sunny again. ive got an idea for moon, then I gotta give ol rick sanchez some bastardly love before he shits on my bed and sets it on fire

[23victoria]

Could You Be Loved

lewis hamilton x wife!reader, lewis hamilton x fem!reader

wc: 3k

authors note: been obsessed of that video of him laying down after the race and listen to could you be loved!! he’s p2 in quali today!!! i pray he gets p1 tm!! this was fun to do!!

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The roar of engines reverberates through the stands as you watch Lewis race, your heart pounding with every turn and overtake. The energy of the crowd is electrifying, and you can't help but be swept up in the excitement. Your eyes are glued to the track, following Lewis's car as he expertly maneuvers his way through the race. The final lap comes to a thrilling close, and when he crosses the finish line in third place, you jump to your feet, cheering at the top of your lungs.

The podium celebration is a whirlwind of emotions. You watch Lewis stand tall, his face beaming with pride as he sprays champagne and accepts his trophy. The crowd's applause is deafening, but all you can think about is how proud and happy you are for him. As the celebration winds down, you make your way through the throngs of people, eager to see him.

y/nhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, sza, ashanti, mercedesamgf1, formula1, mclaren, oscar piastri, and more

podium for my babyyy!!! i’m so happy to see you up there again my love!! it’s only up from here! i love you ❤️

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lewishamilton thank you baby! i love you 🫶🏾❤️

username1 so cuteeee 💕

username12 aww look at his smileeee 🥹

username7 so great to see him on the podium again!! 🥰

username44 p1 soon!!! 🤭

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Finally, you spot him, still basking in the afterglow of his victory. He sees you and his face lights up even more. You run to him, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifts you off the ground in a joyful embrace.

"I'm so proud of you!" you exclaim, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Lewis grins, setting you down but keeping you close. "Thank you, love. I couldn't have done it without you."

You pull back slightly, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I have a surprise for you."

His eyebrows raise in curiosity. "A surprise? What is it?"

"You'll see," you reply with a playful smile.

After the race, you and Lewis head to the airport. He’s clearly puzzled but goes along with it, his curiosity growing with each passing moment. You board a private plane, and as you settle into your seats, he turns to you with an amused smile.

"Where are we going?" he asks.

"You'll see," you repeat, enjoying the anticipation.

The flight is smooth and quick, filled with light conversation and shared excitement. As the plane begins its descent, Lewis looks out the window, his eyes widening as he recognizes the coastline.

"Is this... Jamaica?" he asks, turning to you with a mix of surprise and delight.

You nod, a big smile spreading across your face. "Yes. You always spoil me, buy me things, and take me on trips. I thought it was my turn."

Lewis's expression softens, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. "You did all this for me?"

You nod again, feeling a warm glow in your heart. "I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it."

He pulls you into a tender kiss, his lips lingering on yours as if to express just how much this means to him. "Thank you," he whispers against your lips. "This is incredible."

You both disembark and head to your villa, a stunning beachfront property with a breathtaking view of the ocean. The moment you step inside, you feel the excitement of the adventure that awaits.

The sun rises over the pristine shores of Jamaica, casting a golden hue across the turquoise waters. As you stretch and open your eyes, you feel the warmth of the Caribbean sun seeping through the curtains of your cozy beachfront bungalow. Next to you, Lewis stirs, his face breaking into a sleepy smile as he meets your gaze. Today is the start of an adventure, a day filled with surfing, scuba diving, and the joy of being together in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

You two start your morning with a leisurely breakfast on the veranda. The ocean breeze carries the scent of saltwater and tropical flowers as you enjoy fresh fruit, pastries, and the best coffee you've ever tasted. You can't help but feel a surge of happiness as you look out at the crystal-clear water, knowing that soon you'll be out there, riding the waves with Lewis by your side.

After breakfast, you head down to the beach where surfboards await. Lewis, with his boundless energy and enthusiasm, eagerly helps you carry the boards to the water’s edge. The sand is warm beneath your feet, and the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shore fills the air. You can see the excitement in Lewis's eyes, his love for adventure and the ocean mirroring your own.

With a few quick lessons from a friendly local instructor, you're ready to hit the waves. Lewis is a seasoned surfer as he rides his first wave with ease. You watch, cheering him on, before taking your own board and paddling out. The feeling of catching your first wave is exhilarating, and the look of pride on Lewis's face as he watches you succeed is even more rewarding.

y/nhamilton posted a new story!!

The hours fly by as you both ride wave after wave, laughing and cheering each other on. There are a few tumbles and wipeouts, but each one is met with laughter and encouragement. By the time you finally decide to take a break, you're both exhilarated and exhausted, ready for the next part of your adventure.

After a quick lunch at a beachside café, where you enjoy fresh seafood and tropical drinks, it's time for scuba diving. You've both been looking forward to this, eager to explore the vibrant underwater world of Jamaica. As you board the boat that will take you to the dive site, you feel a mix of excitement and a little bit of nervousness.

Lewis, ever the reassuring presence, holds your hand and gives it a comforting squeeze. "It's going to be amazing," he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Just think about all the incredible things we're going to see down there."

The dive instructor gives you a thorough briefing, making sure you're both comfortable with the equipment and the plan for the dive. As you slip into the cool, clear water and begin your descent, the world above fades away, replaced by the mesmerizing beauty of the coral reef below.

The underwater world is even more breathtaking than you imagined. Vibrant coral formations in every color imaginable stretch out before you, teeming with life. Schools of tropical fish dart around, their bright colors flashing in the sunlight that filters down from above. You spot a graceful sea turtle gliding by, and Lewis points excitedly, his eyes wide with wonder.

Exploring the reef together feels like discovering a hidden paradise. You and Lewis swim side by side, sharing silent moments of awe and wonder. Every now and then, you reach out to each other, a gentle touch to share the experience. The beauty of the underwater world and the presence of Lewis make it a magical, unforgettable experience.

As you surface and climb back onto the boat, you both can’t stop smiling. The boat ride back to shore is filled with excited chatter about everything you saw and experienced. You lean against Lewis, feeling the warmth of his skin and the happiness of being together in this incredible place.

y/nhamilton

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell, sza, ashanti, misson44, mercedesamgf1, formula1, mclaren, oscar piastri, and more

i love this man 🥹😍

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lewishamilton i love you baby 🫶🏾❤️

username1 surfer lewis!!

username11 his outfits always eat!!

username4 i love how obsessed they are with with each other 😭

username9 i want what they have 🥲

username8 he’s so beautiful

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Back on land, you spend the afternoon exploring the local town, wandering through colorful markets and charming streets. You sample local treats, browse for souvenirs, and take countless photos to capture the memories. The locals are friendly and welcoming, and you find yourselves chatting with them, learning about their lives and the rich culture of Jamaica.

As the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange, you return to your bungalow to freshen up for dinner. Tonight, you've planned something special: a candlelit dinner on the beach. The restaurant has set up a private table right by the water, complete with flickering candles and soft, romantic music.

When you arrive, hand in hand, the scene is like something out of a dream. The gentle sound of the waves provides the perfect backdrop as you're led to your table. The waitstaff is attentive, bringing you a delicious array of dishes made from fresh, local ingredients. Each bite is a taste of paradise, and you savor every moment.

As you finish your meal, the strains of "Could You Be Loved" by Bob Marley begin to play. The familiar, soothing melody fills the air, and you feel a rush of emotions. Lewis stands and extends his hand, a loving smile on his face. "Dance with me?" he asks softly.

You take his hand, and he leads you onto the sand. The candlelight flickers around you, and the world seems to fade away as you move together to the rhythm of the music. With each step, you feel the love and connection between you growing stronger. Lewis holds you close, his eyes locked on yours, and you can see the depth of his feelings in his gaze.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. "More than anything in this world. You've made every moment of this trip unforgettable, and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tears fill your eyes as you look at him, overwhelmed by the intensity of your feelings. "I love you too, Lewis," you reply, your voice trembling with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and adventure into my life. I can't imagine doing any of this without you."

You continue to dance, lost in each other's embrace, as the song plays on. The stars shine brightly above, and the world seems to stand still, just for the two of you. In that moment, everything feels perfect – the beauty of the setting, the love you share, and the promise of many more adventures to come.

As the song ends, you linger in each other's arms, reluctant to let go of the magic of the moment. The night is still young, and there's so much more to explore and experience together. But for now, you simply hold each other, grateful for the love and the memories you've created in this beautiful place.

lewishamilton

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forever in love with you 😘❤️

y/nhamilton i love you forever 🥹❤️

username6 they are so cuteee

username61 she’s so pretty 😍

username8 that waterfall!! 🤩

username9 need me a man like lewis

username17 her braids are so pretty!!! 🤩😍

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The next morning, you wake up early again, eager to make the most of your time in Jamaica. Today, you've planned a hike through the lush, tropical rainforest to a hidden waterfall. With a packed picnic and a sense of adventure, you set off hand in hand.

The hike is a beautiful journey through dense foliage, vibrant with the sounds of exotic birds and the rustling of leaves. You and Lewis take your time, stopping to marvel at the incredible diversity of plants and animals around you. Along the way, you share stories, laugh at each other's jokes, and feel a deep sense of connection with nature and each other.

When you finally reach the waterfall, the sight takes your breath away. Crystal-clear water cascades down into a serene pool, surrounded by lush greenery. It's like stepping into a tropical paradise, and you can hardly believe you're here.

Lewis grins and tugs you towards the water. "Let's go for a swim!" he says, his excitement contagious.

lewishamilton just posted a new story!!

You quickly change into your swimsuits and wade into the cool, refreshing water. Swimming beneath the waterfall is an exhilarating experience, the powerful rush of water cascading around you. You and Lewis splash and play, laughing like children, completely lost in the joy of the moment.

After your swim, you find a sunny spot on the rocks to enjoy your picnic. The simple meal tastes incredible in this beautiful setting, and you savor every bite. As you relax and soak up the sun, Lewis wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"This has been the best vacation ever," he says, his voice filled with contentment. "Every moment with you is perfect."

You smile and snuggle closer, feeling the same way. "I couldn't agree more. I feel so lucky to be here with you."

The rest of the day is spent exploring more of the rainforest, discovering hidden trails and breathtaking viewpoints. Each new discovery feels like a shared secret, something special just for the two of you. By the time you make your way back to the bungalow, you're both exhausted but incredibly happy.

That evening, you decide to have a quiet night in. You order room service and enjoy a delicious dinner on your veranda, watching the stars twinkle above the ocean. The sound of the waves is soothing, and you feel a deep sense of peace and contentment.

As you sit together, Lewis takes your hand and looks into your eyes. "I love you more than words can say," he whispers. "Thank you for making this trip so unforgettable."

You smile, your heart full of love. "I love you too, Lewis. Thank you for being my adventure partner and the love of my life."

lewishamilton

liked by y/nhamilton, georgerussell, sza, charlesleclerc, mercedesamgf1, formula1, mclaren, oscar piastri, and more

had the best time in jamaica with the love of my life 🫶🏾❤️ thank you for the surprise trip baby 🥹❤️

y/nhamilton i love you forever and always baby!! you deserved it!! 🤭❤️

alexandrasaintmleux so cute 🥹💗

username22 lewis has his curls out!!

username444 glad you guys had an amazing time!! 💕

username777 love that dress on y/n!! 🤩

username7 jamaica looks nice on them! 🤭

.•☆.°.•.*₊ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• . .•☆.°.•.*₊ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164

✿ .° • lewis taglist • °. ✿ : @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality

.•☆.°.•.*₊ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• . .•☆.°.•.*₊ .*₊ .• ☆.°.• .

© 23victoria 2023-24 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate or claim my work as your own

[everythingelseisextra]

Come Home (Tommy's Perspective)

Part Fifteen: David and Goliath

Description: Tommy doesn't tell you everything. So much gets stuck in his mouth, including his business. Warnings: PTSD, language, Tommy being angsty I guess Word Count: 4796 (sorry) Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @Majesticcmey @Optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul

12 Hours before the attack on the barn

When she leaves, my mind clears. I think differently when she’s here. Softer, like a spell cast to make what I’ve learned and what I’ve made myself less important. She leaves out the front door, and I walk back through the house. Footsteps echoing through the halls like a heartbeat. It’s easy to slip back into a routine, to abide by the list that creates itself somewhere in my head. I find the phone and dial the number without thinking about it. Pick it up, hold it to my ear, wait.

“Hello, Tommy.” Arthur, the usual rashness to his words drowned out by the phone’s crackling. His drawl is recognizable to me like I’d know my own hand, and it’s something of a comfort after the talk I’d had with her. “Why’re you calling me at this hour?”

I forget he’s not awake nearly as early as I am. My day, and her day, too, starts before the sun. I don’t give it any pause. He doesn’t care about the real reason I’m calling him. Wants his orders from his sergeant major and to put his head down and do it. “I need you to start what we talked about, Arthur. With the girls. Talk to ‘em, get what you can out of them, see if you can find any of the men who hold their leashes.” 

“On it, Tom.” A rustling of movement tells me he’s just finishing getting dressed. “That all?” 

“Tell John to do the same. Stay on the outside, don’t stick your nose in where it doesn’t belong.” I can smell breakfast in the air. All I want is a drink and a cigarette. Too early for that. Need to eat. “Tell me what you find.”

“All this for that woman who sprayed you with the hose, eh?” There’s amusement in his tone that I don’t like. Like he’s caught me on some trick I took, like he has something on me. Maybe he does. 

“Yep,” I say shortly, not inviting more questions. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing. Just looking out for you, Tom, that’s all.” 

“I know what I’m doing.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, then drop my hand. “Goodbye.”

“We’re worried about you here. Seems a bit soon, doesn’t it? After Grace and all that—”

“Goodbye, Arthur.” I put the phone down and huff out a breath. 

Seems a bit soon. Maybe it is. Maybe I’m all up in my head, afraid to be alone at night, so I attached to the first kind face I saw. Maybe our meeting was some mistake made by me to draw her into the dark. 

No. She carries the same burden as I do, in a different form. If our meeting was anything, it was mercy. If some cosmic mistake is what brought us together then it will take another one to tear us apart. 

—

Alfie Solomons leaves after the briefing on the Russians. The door remains open. My brothers stay. Their eyes flick down to the ground and stay there, and I slowly sit back down onto my chair. None of them want to be the first to talk. I look to Arthur, let him feel my gaze. If I feel something at their reluctance to leave, it’s too deep for me to be aware of it. I shy away from feeling too deeply. Nothing set in stone, and yet, everything a dirt road. Tread the same path too long and it will become the only path there is. I refuse to be limited by my own emotion. 

“So, Russians, hey?” Arthur tries at skirting away from whatever shames him. I stare up at him, unamused. “We— we uh— we fucked up, Tom.” Arthur stumbles over the confession and John shoots him a look of venom. “I fucked up.”

I raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

“One of the girls— well, you know how they are— I had some drink in me and she— she asked some questions. Shouldn’t have answered them, Tom. Should’ve kept my bloody mouth shut. It doesn’t matter now, they know. I told it to ‘em, and now they know. Nothing to do but—”

“What do they know, Arthur?” I keep my voice even. My head throbs where the stitches were taken out months ago, another sign of my dawning insanity. 

“You know how it is, they act all nice to ya and—”

“He told them about hose-girl.” John cuts in. “He told them that he knows about the one that got away.”

My eyes lock onto the drawer in the desk where my gun sits, hidden. “How much did you tell them?”

“Ah, well, it was all very— I mean, I told them—”

“Get to the fucking point.” Inside that drawer is a weapon I’ve held to the temples of many a man, myself included. Inside that drawer is the hope I have of protecting my own. Including her.

“I told them she has horses. That’s all. That she has horses and doesn’t live in town. All I said, I swear it.” His voice carries bravado, covering up for the anxiety I know he has. He doesn’t like displeasing me, and he certainly has. 

My words come short and quiet. “You gave them definitive information about a woman they’ve been trying to find for years.” 

His silence resonates. 

“Answer me, Arthur.” I tear my eyes from the drawer to pin him down, trying to lock onto his shifty eyes. 

“Yes, sir, I did.” He looks to John for support, pleading with him for backup. He finds nothing but a stony face. 

“And you didn’t think to inform me of this before I planned to meet with the fucking Russians?” My voice threatens to raise and his eyes grow furtive. 

“I thought—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you thought!” I stand, slamming a hand down on the desk in front of me. Arthur flinches. “Her blood is on your hands, and you’re standing there telling me what you thought?” 

“It was my mistake, Tom, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’re fucking sorry. We’re all fucking sorry.” I grit my teeth, grind them, and walk out from behind the desk. They turn on instinct, soldiers at attention, their eyes on my back. “We go to the Russians, and we go to save what’s left of her. Understood?”

“Yes.” John’s voice.

“Arthur?” His name is rancid on my tongue. I grow antsy, a green horse on its first ride, flinching and preparing to bolt. I should be by her side, getting her out of there. I should be hunting down the man who thought he could own someone like her. 

But I have business. The world slowly lowers down on my shoulders, and I am not Atlas. I cannot shrug. 

—

I leave the Russians with the scent of cigarettes, whiskey, and Tatiana’s perfume lingering on me, and the thought of Grace stuck in my head. I was careless, and now I’m hungover, disorganized. The night is still young, and we reach home before the moon is bright in the sky. First thing I do is pick up the phone and call Moss. I ask him about a woman in a barn outside of Birmingham, and he tells me they found two dead bodies with her. 

“She’s safe?” 

“She is for now. She won’t talk and she has no record, Mr. Shelby, we gotta take her in.” 

“No.” I shake my head. “Keep her. See if she’ll talk. I’ll come get her.”

I need an ally. I need help, with everything, not just the quiet things. I need someone who can stare down the barrel of a gun and keep their mouths shut. I need someone who ignores the urge to run, who knows that they’re a monster, too. Two dead bodies found at the barn. One smashed, one shot. When I close my eyes, I can see myself pulling the trigger, smashing the skull. When I think about it, I can feel her fear and determination. My brow furrows, my lips part. She sits alone in a cell while men she doesn’t know interrogate her. 

“Is that all, Mr. Shelby?”

“Don’t.” I shake my head, a headache stretching between my temples. “Don’t make her talk. Let her wait. I’ll be there.”

“Yessir, Mr. Shelby.”  

“That’s all, Moss. Goodnight.”

I put the phone down and make my way to the bathroom to clean myself off, to rid myself of the smell of other women and spirits and the taste of Grace on my lips. So that she doesn’t smell it, yes, and so that I can forget it ever happened. So that I can wash off the shame and fear and overwhelming sense of loneliness. So that the path I tread doesn’t become beaten. 

—

After I’ve cleaned the wounds on her head, after the blood has been washed off, after the sins of my war have been confessed, she sleeps in the bed next to me. I’m on my back, but my head is tilted. Her eyes flutter beneath her eyelids. Her lips part slightly. Moonlight shines on her skin. A swollen bump grows underneath her chin, skin broken. 

If I could love her, it would be heavy. Something to carry with me. My love, I’ve learned since Grace, has teeth. Maybe it isn’t love. Maybe possession, maybe control. I can grip with clenched, white knuckles. I can force someone to come back to me, not because they want to, because they have to. I want to love her but I doubt that I can. When I try, something hurts, and I cannot tell her where, only that it does.

A desperate part of me that I do not visit often wants to know what it’s like to be consumed. I am always the possessor, not the possessed. I want to be claimed. I want her love to have teeth, like mine, that can show me that my armor is only skin. If she was the one to cut me, I would bleed forever. That desperation believes that, even with Grace’s death, there is a person out there made exactly for me. That desperation believes that the war I fought in might be echoed in someone else’s. That desperation believes that I have found her and I am ruining it. 

I get up from the bed and my body aches. Faint bruises form on my trachea, where Tatiana pressed down. I look at myself in the mirror and empty eyes stare back. There is fear behind them. I want to lay back down with her and forget about last night and tonight and all the regrettable nights I will undoubtedly have until she is brave enough to touch me. 

In three days time I crawl back into a tunnel, deep underneath the earth, with the pressure of the world lying over me, precarious. I brave the underground for the sake of a robbery that could make or break my career. I promised Grace to stay legal. She’s dead. And the company runs.

—

“We have your son. Get in the car.” 

Rain patters on the outside of the car. I’m in a tinfoil box, and my son is out there. “First. Is he safe?”

“Of course he’s safe. All children are dear to me.”

Michael’s voice, his confession, speaks to me from memory. My son, in the hands of men who have little respect for physical boundaries. Who have little respect for children themselves.

“You have all the cards. Tell me what you want me to do, and I will certainly do it.” My words are choked at the ends, not broken, but holding anger and panic. 

“You ever drive one of these beasts?”

“I’m asking you to conduct business.”

“I borrowed it. Lent it. By a lord. For the duration of this business.”

My head bowed, my eyes unblinking, staring forward, waiting for the order that will save my son. I breathe heavily. I have no choice. I have to comply. “I will certainly do what you need me to do with no complaints.”

“We were forced into doing this awful thing. We did warn you that your son would be in danger if you deviated from the plan.” The priest speaks to me like I’m thick, words slow and gentle and pretentious. “It was you who made a mistake, you understand that?”

“Yes.” Anything. Anything to get him back. 

“What mistake did you make? Do you even know?”

Now it’s a game. A show of power. I have no choice. I must comply. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“You made a deal with our enemies.”

“I will do what needs to be done.” “You went behind our backs to stop the Soviets from blowing up the train. But it’s alright. It’s alright. We’ve rectified your mistake. You ask me ‘what do I need to do?’ Well, here’s what you need to do, you fucking mongrel, you.” He hands me an envelope. I take it with shaking hands. “But since the Bolsheviks will not be blowing up the train, you’ll blow up the train yourself. It’s always been about the explosion. From the beginning. The bang. The outrage. Understand?”

I nod, unable to do anything else. A mechanical movement, trained into me, comply, comply, comply. 

“Those are notes and fragments for you to scatter in the wreckage. Implicating named officials from the Soviet embassy.” 

“I will scatter them. It will be done.” 

“Good. Our friends at the Time and the Daily Mail will do the rest. And once the British government cuts diplomatic relations with the Soviet Union, that will be our mission accomplished. You’ll have been part of a fine adventure.” His eyes land on me. I can feel his gaze, despicably soft brown eyes, a red herring. “To help with the outrage, we need people to die in the explosion.” 

I feel nothing. I am an empty shell of a man, puppeteered by a God that despises me. “How many?”

“Let’s say; six? Rail workers, perhaps. Men from the factory.” 

I nod. That's all I can do. “And I want my son returned to me within an hour of the explosion.” 

“Oh, it’s conditions now, is it?” The amusement in his words sends chills down my back. I shift forward.

“We need to fix the handover in advance.” Firmness. Clinging to what little power I have. 

“I haven’t finished with you yet, Mr. Shelby. We also hear you’re digging a tunnel. Mining for precious stones under Wilderness House. I’m told they have a faberge in the strong room. The Lilies Of The Valley Egg, made in 1898. One of the Odd Fellows has a wife who’s obsessed with faberge. He wants to give her the egg for her birthday…”

“He will have it.” Comply.

“And the economic league will take all the jewels that you steal, to cover our considerable expenses. The fight against communism isn’t cheap, you know? So if you want to see your—”

“I will bring you all the jewels.”

“A bang first. Then bring everything you’ve stolen to your office at dawn.” 

I shake my head. “No. No. I’ll not be able to get the jewels to you by dawn. The tunnel has hit clay.”

“If the Saint Andrews clock strikes 5:00 am on the night of the robbery, and we don’t have everything that we’ve asked for, the bell will be tolling for your boy.” 

Thunder rumbles. I nod, closing my eyes. My son. The last piece of Grace I have. 

“Now get out of my fucking car.”

—

A day has passed since I’ve seen her. She has her horses. She’ll think of me when she has the time, wonder where I’ve gone off to. I have no doubt she’ll worry tonight. She’ll pace the room we share and think she’s made a mistake, some blunder that’s chased me away. I think as I drive that this might be the end. My disappearance, my lack of communication, my lies, might be the final straw for her. She knows nothing of the Russians or the Soviets, knows only little of the priest. I’m sure she expects me back when the sun starts to go down. I’m sure her sleep will be fitful or impossible without knowing where I am. 

I won’t be going home tonight. She will rise before dawn, when I crawl out of a tunnel, and she will wonder where I am. Perhaps she’ll call Ada, who’ll tell her nothing. I am Midas. When I touch her, she turns cold, so I don’t. I don’t tell her of the business I conduct because she doesn’t deserve to be part of this bloody fucked up world I’ve created. So, she’ll wake up, and I’ll be gone. No explanation, no contact. And I’ll come home when the sun has risen and I’ll explain nothing. I protect my own. 

I protect my own, but I’ve chosen Charlie over her, and of that I am guilty. 

There’s gray in the sky when I arrive at the tunnel. Johnny Dogs shouts at me, seeking an explanation for my sudden appearance. I shout back something about my boy and the priest and midnight, and before he can stop me, I climb down into the tunnel. 

I don’t feel. I try to chase away the ebb and flow of my head during daylight, above ground, when the danger separates itself from the soldier I used to be. I’ve built a dam between myself and whatever wave of emotion comes crashing in. I can see it come, but I am never drowned by it. Not when I’m on top of the world instead of underneath it. 

I am trapped in a birth canal of mud and the sound of picks against clay. I cannot move in any direction without being pressed against some wall. I watch the only way out disappear behind me. There’s no escape except to complete my mission and pierce through the earth. Some nightmare shakes the earth around me. My heart pounds in my chest. I’m covered by dirt and it staunches the blood from the abrasions; from the axes, from the rough stones, from myself, that mark my shaking body. 

The single lantern flashes shadows and I can hear the Germans against the barrier in front of us. A race against time begins. No apparatus supports us, all we have are pickaxes to eat away at the earth in front of us. Tunnel warfare springs to life, and my head pounds, and the dam is broken. My hands shake and my eyes are wide and there’s no doubt that I am terrified. Doesn’t matter. I can be scared and still work, still function, still complete the business I’ve forced myself into. There are men by my side that inch forward with every second, who I trust, who know the tunnels as damn well as I do. 

I am ripped into being alive. Sensations, doubts, fears, absolute terror, things I have not felt since the war. On hands and knees, chipping away at impossibility, the earth rumbling with soldier’s feet and mines exploding on the no-man’s-land I tunnel beneath. Strangely, there is fear, and next to it a sense of belonging. This is my grave that I dig, and I am meant to die here, underground. This is my home, the first place I learned to run from, the first place I promised myself I would never return. 

One of the men seizes and I do nothing to help him but send him out. On the edge of the shakes myself, I am wired to do nothing but dig. Forcing the wet clay apart, blood and sweat dripping from my forehead, inching forward bit by bit with the other men. 

I remember rot. I remember bodies buried in the clay. I remember the sun being a dream. I remember each shake of the earth a bad omen, each sound of picks on the other side a forewarning to our deaths. God watched idly as I buried myself and other men in a grave I dug myself. We told each other not to listen when we screamed, when we convulsed at night, when we broke from the pressure of the world on our shoulders. 

I can feel sludge beneath me, slipping, and I know I’m going too fast. My men build supports with timber to hold up the earth on weak substructures. Condensation drips onto me. The ground around us shivers, rocks tumble from around the supports, and we pause, waiting, expecting to be buried. Nothing. 

Gasping for breath. Body bruised and battered. Swimming in the suffocating pressure of the earth surrounding us. Trying desperately to dig upwards, to save our own lives. To survive. None of it real, just the sound my picks and the men building supports.  

I reach the end and plant an explosive. Backing away. Blinking the blood and sweat out of my eyes. It goes off, and I expect to be buried but have no time to fear it. Before the smoke clears, I’ve escaped the tunnel, and I can breathe, if only for a moment. My shaking hands scoop jewels into a canvas bag, giving no thought to what I grab, where I grab from. I take and take and take. 

There’s a shout that I don’t have much time. I suck in a breath, snatch blindly at the last few jewels. Crawl back into the tunnel, throwing the bag of jewels in front of me, following the men as they begin the creep back up. 

I’m the last out. The other men have gone to clean themselves up. Panting, I lie in the dirt where I belong, and roll onto my back to stare up at the black sky. My breath fogs the air. Bits of my body stings where the skin was scraped off. And I pant. 

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. 

—

Somehow, I manage to drive. I don’t see the trees around me, don’t see the grass or the hills, just look straight ahead as my destination grows on the horizon. A single phone booth on the side of the road, resolute. I don’t turn off the car, stepping out and walking unsteadily over to it. I place a coin in, turn the handle, and wait. 

“Let me speak to him,” I say.

My son’s babbling fills the phone and I smile. “Hello, Charlie.” 

He’s unharmed. He’s safe. The nightmare, for now, is over. A lump forms in my throat and I don’t understand it. I’m smiling. I’m relieved. My hand shakes. There’s extra liquid in my eyes. 

“Hello, Charlie,” I say again. He responds with a quiet dadda and nothing else. 

“Can you hear me?” I sniffle and fend off the rising pressure in my chest, holding it off until I’m done, until I know he’s safe. 

He mumbles something about being tired and I smile again, heart simultaneously filling and being stabbed with something cold. “Yeah. You go to bed. Good boy.” 

The call ends and I put the phone down. Something in me bends and bends and bends and then, finally, snaps. My brow furrows and I squeeze my eyes shut and a small sob wracks my body. 

It was a success. My son is safe. The jewels are ready. I should be fucking grateful that I survived this. That we survived this. 

There’s a sense in me that there was no success, only what appears to be one. There’s a sense in me that tells me I’ve pushed those I want close further and further from me. There’s a sense that I will never be the man I hope to be because it’s hard when I’m always fucking unwanted. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel unless I blow it up. There’s no joy to be had unless I force it. 

And I sob, because I feel everything. There’s an ache in my chest and a hole in my heart. There’s pain through my body and a horrible loneliness in my head. There’s relief, pure and unadulterated, and there’s terror lingering from the tunnel, images flashing through my mind of what burned itself into my mind in France. Claustrophobia burns through me. I sob over what I’ve destroyed like I want to stop and worship it, and soon, I’ll be back with a pick in my hand and explosives waiting. 

My son has grown up barely knowing me because I’m consumed by business. My heart has been broken too many times and I fear that it will never be made whole. I am a soldier with only the cause of ambition to guide me. And I feel everything, even though I try to hide it. 

I take a breath, pressing my eyes closed, then pull myself together and straighten. I call her. I suspect she won’t pick up, but I try anyway. 

There’s a click and her voice, distorted by the distance, says my name in a tone I can only describe as fearful. “Tommy?”

“Yes,” I say, words still choked. 

“Where have you been?” Not steady, not brave, not the tone I know from her. 

“Business.” It’s the only explanation I can give. 

“Business? For two days straight?” 

“Yes. For two days straight. You need to know who I am.” I squeeze the earpiece, stopping my voice from wavering. “You need to know that I can’t give you what you want.”

There’s quiet on the other end of the phone. My hand continues to shake.

“What happened?” The fear is gone, in its place, worry.

“Nothing happened,” I lie. “Do you understand me? I can’t be the one you need. You think I’m going to change but those fuckers out there are worse than I am.” 

“I’ve never wanted you to change. I’ve never asked for that. And no one can be everything to someone. I’m not expecting that from you. I just want you to tell me when you’re going to be gone like this.” 

“They’ve issued an arrest for my family and I have to let it happen.” 

“What?” 

“For my brothers, for Pol, for Esme and Linda. I made the wrong enemies.” Please, forget about me, choose to leave. “You should go before it all goes to shit.”

“Tommy. I’m not going. I’m staying with you. You’ve made a mistake, that doesn’t mean I’m going to abandon you. I told you I would forgive your rottenness and I plan to keep that promise.” Her voice is strained. “Tom, just come home, we can talk—”

“I’ve gotten mixed up in something too big for me.” I close my eyes, a small tear dripping out. “I won’t have a family after this.”

“Thomas Shelby, I swear to God, if you don’t come home, I’m tracking you down and dragging you here myself. Okay? So get back in your car and drive your ass home. You’re gonna be fine, you’re not gonna end up without a family. You’re going to be fine.” Her voice softens towards the end and I feel myself drawn towards her, despite everything. “You won’t be alone.”

“I fucked another woman.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. Quit trying to make excuses for me to leave you. Come home, we’ll calm you down, and we’ll talk about it.” 

“My brothers told them where you were. The attack was my fault.”

“I get what’s happening here. Something scared you, and you think you’re hurting everyone around you, so you’re self-sabotaging. Come home. That’s all I want. Don’t you want to give me what I want?” 

I do. I always want to give her what she wants. There are better men out there who could love her. There are better people who could protect her without making the mistakes I did. 

They’ll have to get through me, though. 

“I’ll come home.” I open my eyes and blink hard, ridding them of their bleariness. “I’m not the man you want, love.”

“So you keep saying.” Her words grow wry. “You forget that you don’t get to tell me what I want. And I want you. I don’t know how to make that any clearer to you.” 

I nod and give in to the words she speaks. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon, Tom. Yes?”

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

I put the phone down. This shallow world, this twisted and broken body I live in, this mind that I cannot control, somehow she is a master of all of it. Somehow she puts me at ease. Love, I think, is two people inspiring each other to live. And she gives me a reason, and she stays by my side. 

Dawn breaks, and I walk back to my car in silence. 

[cthonic-bunny]

Hi!

What do you think about Lilith conjunct sun in synastry? Man being the Lilith and basically he doesn't have other planet in the same sign.

Or if you don't use asteroids, what do you think about a man with pisces sun, moon in Taurus (I don't have a birth time so there's a small chance he may fall in the first three degrees of gemini, but I'm almost sure he's definately a Taurus moon), Mercury in Aquarius, Venus in Pisces and Mars in gemini? Like an overall impression, because to me is like an world salad describing some kind of Tortured artist TM

For Lilith contacts, when the man is Lilith and the woman is the planet person, I’ve noticed that Lilith can develop some sort of fascination or appreciation for the theme of the planet it touches. I’d also like to know which house the two fall in for more context on how it might manifest!

In negative scenarios, I feel like it points to some fetishization of that planet’s quality, or a desire to exploit those qualities in some sense (I personally noticed this as the planet person when a man’s Lilith squared my moon, for example). Again, the houses in which the two fall in can provide more context!

For Lilith conjunct Sun, Lilith can really enjoy how the sun person expresses themselves and shines. They might find you to be “different from the rest,” and that adds to the sun’s person perceived sex appeal in the eyes of Lilith. They can feel like you truly have your own authentic identity. They can really like your confidence, and encourage you to put it on full display like a peacock. Since they spend time admiring your confidence and authenticity, they are very likely to notice when you’re not being your true self in a given situation or around certain people— which might breed a feeling of self-consciousness in the sun who might feel overly perceived by Lilith. Lilith can just give you a look and you might feel called out. I feel like Lilith can find the Sun person to be beautiful, but has a weird way of letting the Sun know they admire them. They might just assume you should know that by the way they look at you. They might enjoy getting you flustered and shy, because others might not get that reaction out of you. You might feel more shy while talking to them, and might not understand why you feel so “soft” or “weak” when you talk to them! However, I think they want you to maintain that confidence you had before they got you, because it’s so alluring to them.

I feel like the moment they catch this, they are aware of the power they have over you. By your ego diminishing in front of them and because of them, theirs feels a bit more inflated as a result. They feel more confident in their own seductive powers because of how you react to them. You might make them feel more invigorated and secure in his sexual energy. If things progress to a physical point, Lilith will be putting on the show for the sun, now using that as his opportunity to be the peacock in this dynamic. Lilith might love the darkness the sun naturally exudes, and wants to embody that together and take it to a whole new intensity that seems so far removed from the original vibe they picked up from the sun.

I think Lilith can project a bit onto the planet person and wants to form them into the idea they had of them in their head, so they can fully embody the aesthetic type of taboo dream girl they want by their side to frame or reinforce their own identity.

I feel like Lilith might have played it cool in the past, but will soon be introduced to feelings of jealousy and possessiveness once they get the sun person. They were drawn in my the sun’s radiance, but now that they caught feelings, hate that other people can feel that and want the sun person the same way Lilith does.

I feel like the sun person might have fun dressing in a way that is desirable to Lilith, because once Lilith is comfortable providing praise and compliments, it’s always exactly what the sun needs to hear to feel sexier.

You both might encourage one another to be your freest selves, even if it draws in negative attention or feedback.

—

Your description of “tortured artist TM” is so funny, but I feel like it’s accurate as hell 😭 that basically sums it up, for real!

I feel like he definitely has a soft side, but finds it hard to vocalize until he feels a real camaraderie with someone. He has good taste, and appreciates good style in someone. He likes when someone has good manners. He might gate-keep the full extent of his humor, but once you get to know him you’ll see that he’s probably HILARIOUS. He would really appreciate someone who listens to his interests, and values his intellect. He would probably appreciate dates to art museums, eclectic restaurants or hole-in-the-walls, dates to farmers markets and thrift events, or even book fairs. I feel like he could be interested in philosophy, and appreciates more complex conversations with people he genuinely wants to be close with. He would love someone who he can listen to music with or share music with, someone to watch and dissect films with, and someone who makes him feel safe to show his weird side!

[sapphicseasapphire]

Hiii, I ADORE your chain as Cryptids AU, all of your art is gorgeous and every character is wonderfully unique, I wanted to ask for a lil more lore if possible? While Four is my favorite character we have not had nearly enough asks for Hyrule! And fairies in general, in your au are they more fae-like with some trickster tendencies or very kind and giving like the Minish? Thoughts on bottles, etc? TYSM!

Oh boy oh boy do I have some Hyrule Thoughts. And some general fairy thoughts as well!

(Under the cut because this is gonna get long)

For this au, I’m thinking of just Zelda fairies. Little glowing balls of light that flutter on fragile wings, iridescent and magical and gentle. Fairies have an affinity for magic: all kinds of magic, though they’re best known for their healing abilities. There isn’t a single archetype of what a fairy’s behavior will be. Some can be tricksters, some can be kind, some can be shy, some can have the most ill of intentions. Fairies are like people, really, in that they’re not just all one thing. (This is what separates them from spirits, really. They’re just on the cusp of ascension, but unlike Koroks or Blupees or Dragons or anything like that, they cling to their mortality and allow themselves to grow and evolve. Because of this, Hyrule is not a part of the telepathy circle).

There are many communities of Fairies, and they tend to group up around a Great Fairy as their leader. There are some colonies that are independent of Great Fairies, though, but they are rare to find, as they are at a much higher risk.

You see, while Fairies are magical, they’re very fragile. Usually, a typical Fairy wouldn’t posses enough magic to defend themself against a Hylian captor. Docile and tiny, they’re quite easy to bottle up and carry off, and easily discarded once they’re used. Great Fairies are much more powerful than the average Fairy, and even more powerful than a Hylian, so sticking around them is preferred. They protect the others.

Hyrule is a very unique case. You see, he was born with the Spirit of the Hero. For this au, the Spirit of the Hero acts as an enhancer for any kind of spiritual or magical power a Link already possesses. For example, Twilight is only able to shift because he’s descended from a God and possess the Hero’s Spirit. (Otherwise, one of his parents would have had God Powers TM too, and they probably wouldn’t have died so soon).

In Hyrule’s case, having the Hero’s Spirit grants him much more magic than a typical Fairy- almost as much magic as a Great Fairy herself. All of this power in such a small frame… no one is the wiser. Hyrule has enough magic to properly defend himself (if he had any sort of training… which, as a child, he didn’t) and most importantly, he has enough magic to hold a Hylian disguise for a LONG TIME. His glamour can change the way that he’s perceived but cannot change his actual shape. Others can see and even touch his changed form, but it is not real.

ANYWAY. Yeah. Bottles. Fairies are afraid of them, are afraid of Hylians. And Rito and Gerudo and Gorons and Zora and monsters and literally everything under the sun. When you’re two inches tall, everything is a threat.

Fairies are hunted mercilessly by Hylians, mostly. They’re never killed, not outright, but they’re taken from their colonies and shoved into a tiny bottle, sometimes for weeks and months on end (Fairies don’t starve as quickly as other species would, able to expend magic to keep their little bodies functioning). That being said, they often do not survive captivity. A tiny little bottle, often shoved in a bag and jostled around, no light, no food or water, all alone, just glass on all sides. It’s no place for a Fairy. Even if they do make it out (after expending magic to heal whatever wound they were abducted to treat), they will rarely make it back to their Great Fairy before succumbing to magical exhaustion or being captured again.

On the topic of magical exhaustion: Fairies have a limited amount of magic they can expend before they have to recover. Even one as powerful as Hyrule has their limits. Recovery almost always means rest, and it can mean their body does a forced shut down and simply stops working for days at a time. Often, Fairies are more hungry when they’re recovering, as magic can no longer be used to sustain the body.

Hyrule is less vulnerable to this than other Fairies would be, but when he’s standing next to the Chain? And every single one of them is hurt? After a fight where he’d used his magic to take down dozens of monsters? All while keeping up his glamour? Yeah, he’s gonna be feeling that one.

Telltale signs of magical exhaustion before it gets to the point of actually passing out: Physical exhaustion, drowsiness. Headaches, sudden hunger. Feeling cold. Often, the other heroes might notice Hyrule picking up an extra serving at mealtimes or ask to huddle up with someone at night (oftentimes Sky, as his wings are very warm and he doesn’t bat an eye when asked to cuddle). Hyrule sleeps longer, but never seems to gain any more energy.

Magical exhaustion, if pushed too far, can be fatal.

ANYWAY. When Hyrule first joins the Chain, he forces all of them to free any Fairies they might have. He enforces that rule as others join, and is hesitant to lower his glamour. I’m think that for a long time, they don’t even know he’s a Fairy. He’s terrified that if they find out, they’ll bottle him up and use him for healing and never let him go. For. Long time, he’s terrified of them. Fairy Bottlers surround him. It’s not until he physically cannot keep his “Hylian” form up that the others find out what he is, and he never expected them to be so understanding. So… apologetic. Actually legitimately regretful of their Fairy Bottling pasts.

ONE MORE THING. Four can turn Minish sized. When Hyrule works himself to magical exhaustion and passes out, he goes back to his True Form, the two inch tall lil Fairy. And of course, when that happens, it’s really really difficult for the Chain to move him or help him without accidentally hurting his tiny body. So Four will shrink down and help him to bed, check to make sure that he wasn’t hurt when he fell unconscious, and stay with him at their size so he’s not alone when he wakes.

I have many more thoughts but this is getting actually so long. I apologize!

[echekate]

Zombie apocalypse AU pt. 2

some more hc's just because I can't get my mind off it

or is it more of a drabble?..

gn!reader x Hobie Brown

tw: amputation of a limb, a mention of suic!de at the end, suggestive stuff, but mostly fluff (don't ask me, that's how zombie apocalypses work)

As the winter passes Hobie finds himself feeling quite comfortable in his new place. Wether it's the Town that has more decent ways of existance than the one he previously lived in or certain someone who keeps his want to fuck off at bay, he starts thinking less about leaving and more about pros and cons of staying, and... Well, you.

The commune that everyone basically calls the Town is quite different from the one he used to be in before the big shit TM happened. The biggest difference is probably the place having not one allmighty leader but many of them, a dozen or so people trying to keep the place, this isle of civilization, from falling apart. The second difference - no big rules. The only ones are make yourself useful and don't stir up trouble. Considering that the place doesn't have too many people, those are enough to keep the place organised and safe. Any problems that come up always get solved by "the big bosses" who look after the Town.

And the more Hobie thinks of it, lives in it, the more content he gets with how things work. After all, he's got no problem with occupying himself or being useful. And he's not the one to start trouble if he's fine with how things are going.

And then there's you.

You who was helping him during his recovery. You who welcomed him so warmly at your place, and introduced to your parents if you still got them. You who let him use your bed until his leg was fine and he could move to the couch. You who told the big bosses you'll take care of him and he won't be any trouble and a waste of resources. You who helped him when he needed to get out and shared your warmth with him during those cold nights of hunting outside

Shit, since when did he start thinking so much about your warmth?

One thing after another, everything leads to Hobie starting to hesitate. And then one thing happens that pretty much seals his fate.

Could there be a more perfect moment? You and him are at the infirmary after coming back from another sortie. His cheek rests calmly in your palm as your other hand moves over his face, cleaning small bruises left after your little adventure. Bleak sunshine of the spring sun filters through the blinds on the windows, gently touching your skin. It's quiet, peaceful, you've gotten used to sharing both talks and comfortable silence with him.

Your head's been full of thoughts of Hobie's inevitable departure ever since the winter days had ended. You feel like any time now he can just seep through your fingers and disappear. And what's so bad about it, right? He's just a boy who was there to reach a helping hand when you were in need of one. But here's the thing: you and Hobie just... Click.

There's not too many people of your age among survivors to be picky about your friends. But ever since you've met Hobie you had this feeling that if you met him before the apocalypse, you'd be best friends for sure. He makes you feel less lonely, more cheerful, more seen. You can discuss anything without judging each other. And now you have to wrap your head around the fact that he'll leave soon? You want to respect his freedom, you really do, but... Yeah, no fucking way you can just let him go.

You barely notice the way your hands slowly come to a stop as the thoughts fill your head. And just when Hobie raises his eyes at you to ask why the hell did you stop caressing his face with your lovely hands your work, you find enough courage to meet his gaze and whisper a soft "Hobie, you should stay."

Your lips are so close and wouldn't it be just a perfect moment to kiss them? Because - hell, he wants that. But despite you being just a few inches away looking at him with such tenderness, you seem like you're not going to move any closer. So the best thing that comes to Hobie's mind is to smirk and say, "Sure thing, dove. Anythin' if I get a kiss fo' tha'."

And just like that it suddenly gets to you that all those nights cuddling in the woods you probably weren't the only one to get a little too comfortable. Because now behind that cocky expression on Hobie's face you see that he means it - you give him one kiss and he'll follow you to the Hell itself. But you turn into such a mess of joy and embarrasment that you're sure you'll fuck it up. So you ask him to wait till evening. To join him on his night watch. "Promise you won't leave 'till you get it." And he gives you a promise.

And when you join him on the town's wall at night, take his hand to let him know you're here, that's when you finally give it to him. Yes, you give it, because he lets you be the one to decide if you truly want it this time and doesn't try to take it himself. After all, it's in your best interest to convince him to stay, and a kiss is the price you must pay. But as soon as you do, your deal is sealed, and that's when Hobie shows you just how much he has to give back. He spins you two around to press your back into the wall and kisses you again and again till the pile of melting snow falls from a canopy above your heads making some noise and startling you.

You stay for a few more minutes to laugh and talk quietly and soon leave to get some rest. But you go home filled with joy because you know you both felt it that moment - none of you can leave the other now without leaving your heart with them.

At some point Hobie realises he has used your hospitality for long enough and after exploring less inhabitated parts of the Town for some time he finds himself a perfect spot. The house clearly has been rummaged through and looted more than once, but it isn't the thing that takes his attention. An impressively built tree house in the backyard though... Now that's more like it. Oh and a garage attached to the house? Maybe he can even go back to crafting stuff like he used to do before the world collapsed.

Hobie doesn't wait long before moving there and finally leaving your place. And though you miss him living close to you, now Hobie has a place of his own that suits him best. A place he can and will decorate to his liking. And a place where you finally can be truly alone with him. Perfect for nice and long makeout sessions with some music playing from your old headphones you share that certainly will turn into something more with time, like pawing at the skin under each other's clothes as you grind against each other and pant into other's mouth. Yes, a perfect spot that he doesn't mind sharing with you.

And hey, he still visits you, too.

What you've got between you two you're not in a rush to name. It's just kinda there, it has been since the moment you've brought Hobie to the Town. Though if before that kiss you could pass as a couple of really good friends that just seem to get along very well, after it happens your connection becomes painfully obvious to anyone in the Town. I mean, it's hard to misunderstand. You've been close before, but now you become nearly inseparable. Some people even start wondering if it's even possible to meet Hobie without you being nearby and the other way around. You sit there with him when he tries to build stuff in his garage. He helps you with whatever you do.

It is love, that much you know for sure, but whenever you try to explain it, you fail. Because labels and names don't really matter when the world slowly falls apart, and you feel too much anyway to try to define it with few words. Hobie, i believe, barely even tries. He just feels and enjoys it.

As for 'keeping himself useful'... Let's be honest, no one has ever expected Hobie to just settle and become a proper townie. And remember? He goes wherever you go, and you go scout sometimes, so of course he keeps you company. And it's hard to express just how much easier it becomes with him around. It's a former loner we're talking about here, he knows the best spots to hide, the best ways to avoid hungry undeads. Despite the outside still being dangerous and horrifying, with Hobie by your side your chances of survival really skyrocket.

And I imagine that you meet the rest of the spidergang that way. They're lost and scared and gods know how they've managed to survive this long, but one way or another you find them during your expeditions and bring them back with you. Just for them to see just how cool you and Hobie are and want to become a part of your scouting team, too. And hell does it feel like getting children with him...

And to the darker part that i've mentioned in the end of the pt 1

Of course with a job as dangerous as yours it's only a matter of time when some really bad stuff happens. Bad as in your hand getting bitten when you already think you've managed to escape that groaning mob of shamblers. As in Hobie immediately grabbing you and putting a tourniquet on your arm to stop this shit from spreading any further, quiet despair in his eyes because he knows exactly what must be done. Bad as in him taking a deep breath and sinking a big blade of his hunting knife into your flesh, aiming to separate the joint while other arachnokids try their best to keep you in place while he cuts off your forearm, only leaving behind a piece of skin to put it over the wound and sewing it up with a few sloppy stitches. It's imperfect, but hey, he did his best, and at least now he can bring the rest of you back to the Town, alive.

Hobie's fine if you're mad at him, he takes it like a champ, all of your "I'd rather if you just shot me" and "Great, you've made me fucking useless and made me live with it" things. He knows you'll thank him later, when it gets to you he has saved your life once again. He doesn't try to change your mind or make you less angry, he just waits and nods and helps you without a word whenever you encounter a task that used to be so easy when you had both your arms but that can be so troubling now. And he's really delicate about it, only helping when you almost get too upset you can't do it on your own. He lets you let your steam off on him, but he'll immediately offer you his vocal support and anything you need as soon as you let him know you need it or need him.

And yes, as soon as you get back he starts working on making you a new forearm. First it's just some quick and simple stuff, but hey, the boy's a genius, he'll manage to make you something really good. He'll be looking for better and better materials on your expeditions and experiment with them and i'm pretty sure he can come up with some really cool robotic stuff in the end.

And when your pain and shock and anger wears off and you realise just how much strength it took him to do the thing he did and then endure your behaviour, you apologise immediately. And just as quickly he forgives you. Because hey, when the world is at the brink of death, you can't let things like that just ruin a connection like the one you two have.

You just have to understand that if one day you turn and Hobie has to shoot you, the next thing he's shooting is probably himself.

________________________________________________________

(english is not my first language i'm struggling lmao so sorry if there's mistakes)

pt. 1 | pt. 2

[underrated-lovers-of-apollo-poll]

Round 4: Poll 1

*Please Read*

I advise everyone to read each contestant's story to get a well-rounded understanding of each entry. I urge you to not just vote for the one "you know best". I have everyone's stories/reasons why they should win under the cut.

(Branchus art by @literallyjusttoa and Rhoeo art by @amiti-art)

Propaganda:

Branchus

What's The Love Story?

Apollo disguised himself as a goatherd one day soon after killing Python and Branchus came across him, fell instantly in love with the beautiful shepherd, and kissed him. Apollo was just as enamored with Branchus as he was with him and granted him prophetic abilities, as well as a crown and magical staff!!

Going back some years to Branchus's birth, you could say that his mom received a vision of his future as a lover of Apollo - she dreamt that a glowing sun went into her mouth and through her stomach.

Also, since Apollo met Branchus soon after killing Python, he's probably Apollo's first lover EVER! Which is SO COOL APOLLO'S FIRST LOVE WAS A SHEPHERD BOY THE BISEXUALITY IS REAL

also also, an altar was built on the place where Branchus kissed Apollo <3 true love <3 and prophecies from Branchus were second only to Delphi itself, so Branchus got some STAR TREATMENT

Why Should They Win?

First Love = First Boyfriend <3 the queer is strong in this one

Yooooung Loooove Vibes TM

THEY WERE ADORABLE I NEED MORE OF THEM WHERE ARE MY BRANCHUS FICS

Rhoeo

What's The Love Story?

Her dad was THE worst and when he found out she was pregnant he didn't believe her that the father of the baby was a god so he put her in a wooden chest and threw into the sea. Jokes on him because Apollo was baby's father so Rhoeo made it safely to Delos. She gave birth to Anius and placed him on the alter in Apollo's temple and asked him to save the baby if he was truly his (idk why he needed saving tbh, the myth does not specify this. I headcanon that he was born too early)

Apollo then took Anius and not only saved him but also started to raise and mentor him.

Rhoeo later married Zarex who adopted Anius so our boy had 3 parents, good for him. And there are no myths about her dying a horrible death so she probably had a long and happy life (unlike some other lovers of Apollo 🙃)

Also around the same time Rhoeo got thrown into the sea in that wooden chest, while her sisters were watching over their dad's wine, it got destroyed by the swines. The sisters were so terrified of their father they decided to jump of the cliff but Apollo saved them and turned them into goddesses.

Why Should They Win?

I think Apollo truly loved her not only as a lover but as a friend too. It was not a one night stand like often happens in the myths. He loved her enough to save not only her and their son but also her sisters (like come on he turned them into goddesses). He let her live on his sacred island. And he loved her enough to let her go. While gods are often very possessive of their lovers (Apollo included, rip Koronis), he had no problem with Rhoeo moving on and getting married. I like to think that they stayed good friends and Apollo was very happy that she found such a great guy like Zarex to marry.

Kids?

Anius

[puffin-smoke]

hiii its me again here to annoy you about--

Lovely x Treasure pt2!!

I made them a playlist! I'm very proud of it, will update it alot.

Also came up with a ship name! ✨️GoldSparks✨️ yes I'm very proud of myself what of it

Last we left off, the two had finally met again at the summit after a few years apart. Feelings are resurfacing and be promptly suppressed.

The two exchanged numbers as soon as the Summit was over, but Lovely didn't really bother to use them when they first showed up at Treasure's door. "I just needed to see you again."

Lovely offers to walk Treasure to work and they then get to chatting. Lovely sort of interrogates them about everything that's happened since they sort of dropped off the face of the planet.

They're trying to recapture of feeling of like normalcy and safety that they haven't had since Vincent. Treasure is safe. And warm. this is very platonic of them

Also Lovely has to deal with the fact that all of their friends think they're fucking dead. So that's a fun conversation.

Treasure: "I met him at this stupid party Alex dragged me to."

Lovely: "Oh, how's Alex been?"

Treasure: "Horribly depressed."

but, after that great conversation, it feels just like normal. yknow just with all the more romantic tension. which has been a constant in their relationship for years SO a little more wouldn't hurt.

So Lovely starts walking Treasure to work whenever they have a spare moment. Sometimes Treasure might forget their lunch and Lovely will sprint back to go get it with VAMPIRE SPEEDDDD

they want to show off. they want Treasure to be impressed. this is their horribly repressed way of flirting

I'm imagining them dressed in full black in a bigass coat so the sun can't hurt them, while Treasure is just in a T-shirt and jeans. Noir Detective x Normal Guy (tm) (my Treasure is a fucking hairdresser)

anyway THE PININGGGG

FOR WEEKS

Vincent is just like "Wow, Lovely's been a lot happier recently. I'm a great boyfriend." (copium)

Lovely vents to Treasure about all the shit going down with the House. It's not a particularly fun topic, but Treasure's fine with it. They want to be someone Lovely goes to when things aren't fun, when they need a reprieve. They will gladly be a distraction, since they can't be anything else to Lovely.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/28/2023

tuesday again no problem will be taking a break for the 12/12 edition (not next week but the one after)

listening

previously featured Os Mutantes, a countercultural brazilian rock group, is back bc i heard A Minha Menha on an instagram reel by @/ vintagepulps on a showcase of brazilian pulp magazine covers.

the SECOND that driving riff hit i experienced a brief moment of fuckor bc this is exactly and precisely the kind of song i like. this translation tells me it translates to My Girl. it's got moon/sun imagery. it's exactly the kind of song to drive around to in the summer while having an absolutely crippling crush on the person in the passenger seat. spotify

-

reading

you wouldn't download a woman...

TWICE

-

watching

I'm No Angel (1933, dir. Ruggles) a 1936 black comedy written by Mae West and starring the babiest Cary Grant you've ever seen. i added it to my letterboxed bc i saw screenshots of this one specific dress. that’s so much sideboob. good for her.

we don't use the term "adventuress" anymore to describe a woman who does various physical or social stunts to land a husband and i think that's a shame. Tira (yes) is a burlesque dancer and (separately) a lion tamer at a down on its luck circus, becomes famous through putting her head in a lion's mouth, and leverages that fame to fall in and out and back into love.

your enjoyment of this movie will hinge on your tolerance for astrologers, circuses with animals in them, and depictions of black housemaids that have not aged super well, even if they're mostly there to stroke her ego. i'm sort of torn on what rating this would get today-- i'm assuming R bc there's a woman expressing desire but nothing actually happens beyond kissing and some sitting in laps. some peril for the lions i guess?

i do not think this particularly nailed its landing, and i'm not totally sure why they got back together, but mae west in straight up burlesque and the shimmiest dresses you've ever seen is so much fun to watch it doesn't really matter. this is sort of sidelining the her very funny, extremely quotable script. apparently any movie she wasn't allowed to write or heavily doctor her own lines just completely flopped, which i also think is very funny.

just straight up on the internet archive

-

playing

triple header for Things That Came Out This Decade: Genshin Impact (September 2020), Deliver Us Mars (2023) and Gamedec (2021).

brief Genshin update: your main companion in the game, Paimon, the little fairy bitch, has been the recipient of some worrying foreshadowing lately. hey Paimon you wanna tell us anything???

Deliver Us Mars, free on Epic this week. i want to like this game. i think there should be more weird little eurojank original scifi B-franchises like this and you should be able to feed your family by making them. i do not want to continue playing this particular little franchise.

it's the second game by KeokeN (The Netherlands) and published by Wired Productions (UK, although they are partnered with Koch, which means they’ll be bought up soon), a studio of under 20 counting support staff (some of who are certainly part time or on hourly contracts) and an intern. after doing that basic background research i ratcheted my expectations back a couple notches and deleted a somewhat catty paragraph about video game hair.

this is a sequel to Deliver Us The Moon, which was a successful Kickstarter and Steam greenlight (TM (C) R) and it seems they spent the four interval years mostly polishing up the predecessor Deliver Us The Moon, which i do not own and do not plan on playing.

Deliver Us Mars bills itself as an action-adventure, but during my time with it, it was more of a cinematic movie/walking sim with extremely light puzzle/platform mechanics. there are extensive childhood flashbacks following a dad around as he trains his daughter to be an astronaut. the timing and insertion of these never quite clicked for me-- they take forever and they were never as interesting as what they interrupted.

this game is not good at signposting or tutorializing. i had to restart a chapter twice bc the unique controls popped up for a brief fleeting moment on screen and weren’t in the keybinding settings. i could never quite get the mouse and keyboard camera sensitivity right, and platforming/vertical elements seem to only be partially implemented: you can only really successfully approach certain segments from extremely specific dead-on angles. there are like three big boxes in your path that you have to clamber over at one point and i do not think it should take a solid minute and a half for me to get over them. some reviewers praised the lack of signposting during the launch sequence (causing you to frantically look around at a million unlabeled buttons and levers to see if any of them were highlighted as a thing you can click) as a fun way to ramp up stress but i fucking hated it.

after two and a half hours, and only just making it to a ship OUTSIDE mars, i decided there are other games in the world. this hits some sort of minimal viable story benchmark for me, i can see why some people love it, but i don’t want to find out what happens bad enough to play through a slow game that handles terribly and isn’t much fun to exist in.

does get points for big fuckoff dishes.

Gamedec is an isometric RPG, where you are a near-future private investigator who handles delicate personal matters inside wildly popular MMORPG VR games. unfortunately all the trailers suck shit.

this is catnip to me. i love a no-combat game where i have to walk around and talk to everyone and click on everything and write things down in a little notebook. i loooooooove being nosy. i've played through the first two and a half chapters (kinky second life, racketeering farmville, and real life uh oh) and i'm having a fucking marvelous time. the writing team clearly had a lot of fun, the VR game worlds feel very alive and vibrant-- there's a ton of possible weird little flavor interactions that go a very long way toward making me forget this is a limited-perspective isometric. this is like praising an RPG for doing what it says on the tin and being an RPG, but the most recent RPGs ive played have been fucking terrible. it's not shoehorning me into one-true or main-path choices. extremely forgiving of failure, which is good bc i straight up accidentally killed my first client. i know he was a kid but he kinda had it coming imo. sometimes kids just suck shit

im so delighted by this shitty little apartment-- it's got to be fucking bizarre to exist in, bc of the ultra-loft ceilings you need to make it be isometric, but it somehow manages to feel like a studio apartment and a seedy back office all at the same time. a game that is in general very fun to Look at. will have more thoughts as i continue playing but this is really scratching some sort of itch for me. commits to the bit. funny but sincere. a pastiche in ways i personally do not find annoying. has not hit me with like konami code style references yet. due to the fact this is also in my epic games store library i believe this was also free at some point

-

making

fallow week for me. phil has been regrowing skin at a good clip and i can no longer feel each individual vertebra, AND we have another vet appt on friday to get more/different antibiotic goop and all of her vaccinations and microchipping done. mack made a hairball and is getting put back on an actual wire slicker brush grooming schedule. my beautiful girl seems to have a particularly dense coat among the domestic shorthairs of my acquaintance, although that may be bc she is a new england girlie and we constantly exist in air conditioning?? mixed feelings about scheduled brushies from her, even with short and light sessions. we’ll get there.

helping.

[funnylittlelad]

Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn!reader

Masterlist - AO3

<< Rule One | Rule Three >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 6k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an (redeemable) overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, Steve's father is his own warning, Good Brother Jonathan (tm), tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma.

Rule Two: No Going To Steve's When His Parents Are Home

You’re doing this for Steve. That's what you tell yourself every time your anxiety starts getting the better of you. This is for Steve. Steve won't let anything bad happen to you. It’ll be when movie night usually is. As far as your dad and Joyce are concerned, it's still just movie night. It's not you meeting your boyfriend of a couple of months’ parents. 

Steve explained to you that they want to meet less because you're dating and more to make sure you're real. They want Steve to prove he isn't lying to get them off his back. You can do that. You can sit there and act as evidence, nothing more. The part of you that comes from your dad barks a laugh in the back of your head. Yeah, right! Good luck keeping your mouth shut! it cackles. 

The lying is beginning to take its toll on you. You're losing sleep because of the guilt. It feels like something's changed with us. You don't come to me anymore. Your dad’s words reverberate in your bones. One night you lay in bed holding back a sob that burns the backs of your eyes. You lay there and you wish you could go to your dad about this. You wish you could tell him how nervous you are to meet your boyfriend’s parents, maybe even get a hug from him. How could you, though? Every day it feels more and more like you won't be able to have both your dad and Steve. It terrifies you. 

“Okay, you look awful,” Jonathan sighs one night from his bed.

“Gee, thanks,” you deadpan from your own bed.

“I mean it. This clearly isn't good for you. Maybe your dad was right,” he shrugs.

“My dad couldn't be more wrong about Steve, actually. Don't act like you don't know that,” you bite.

“All I know is Steve was a dick for a lot longer than he hasn't been,” Jonathan snaps.

“No offense, Jonathan, but everyone’s a dick to you.”

It’s a low blow and you know it. You're aware of the shit he gets in the halls of Hawkins High.

“Whatever, I don't know why I said anything,” he grumbles.

“Yeah, me neither.”

Jonathan keeps his mouth shut after that. A small bit of guilt bubbles up but is quickly swallowed by the hungry guilt monster. He’s only trying to help, you scold yourself. 

The following day Steve helps you look at a few cars after work just a bit out of Hawkins. Your dad is on duty. He was less than enthusiastic when he heard Steve could help, but it isn't against any of his rules. Steve brings your laced fingers up to his mouth so he can brush his lips over your knuckles as he drives. 

“Does this mean soon you won't need me to drive you around anymore?” He pouts.

“Just cause I won't need it doesn't mean I won't want it,” you say.

“Good, 'cause I like being able to feel you’re there,” he smiles and squeezes your hand a bit.

You smile dopily at him. So much affection washes over you as you watch him. The afternoon sun hugs every one of his features adoringly. It's as if the sun exists only to allow you to view his face. 

“Do you want to hang out when we’re done? Like at my place?” You ask nervously.

“Are you sure? Doesn't your dad need to be home?” He spares a glance at you as he drives.

“He will be by the time we’re done. I dunno, I was thinking maybe if he gets used to you being around he won't be as upset when I tell him about us,” you shrug.

“You’re going to tell him about us?” Steve breathes.

Whether it's out of shock or fear you're unsure.

“I mean, eventually, yeah.”

Steve nods thoughtfully.

“It's worth a shot,” he decides.

You smile at the thought that you could desensitize your dad to Steve. Perhaps you could even prove to him that Steve is nothing like his father and never will be. Steve presses another kiss absentmindedly to the back of your hand as the thought crosses your mind. Yeah, there's not one glimmer of John Harrington in Steve, that you can be sure of. 

The first two cars you look at are duds. The third grabs your heart immediately. It’s a little rust-brown thing, not much, but at the same time, it's everything. You agree on a date and time to come back for a second look. Then you're on your way back to Hawkins. It’s such a nice day out with Steve not having to worry. Until a storm cloud catches up with you.

As the Welcome to Hawkins! sign flits by, lights begin to flash behind you. Red and blue.

“What the hell? I didn't do anything,” Steve mutters.

“He’s not pulling over you. He’s pulling over me,” you sigh with a roll of your eyes. 

Steve pulls over, the chief's truck pulling up behind him. With one final squeeze, you let go of each other’s hands. Your dad stalks up to the driver’s side window and Steve cranks it down. Your dad leans with a forearm on the door to peer in the car.

“Were the lights really necessary? We’ll see each other at home in like fifteen minutes,” you say.

“How’d the car shopping go?” He asks.

“It was good. We’re going back to look at one of them next week,” you answer.

He nods. Then his eyes move to Steve. He takes a moment to measure him up. 

“How’s your mom?” He asks him.

Steve looks startled to be spoken to at all.

“Oh- uh- good, she’s good,” Steve stutters.

Your dad nods. 

“And your dad?” 

“Same as always,” Steve smiles tightly.

“Dad,” you interject, “We’ll see you at home.”

“We will?” He questions.

“Yeah, Steve is gonna hang out for a little bit since you’ll be home,” you tell him.

His eyes flit between the two of you for a moment.

“See you at home,” he says but his eyes stay on Steve. 

Steve smiles and nods before carefully pulling away. The chief’s truck stays behind you the entire time. Every time Steve’s eyes flicker to the rearview your face warms.

“I’m sorry about him,” you say. 

“Hey,” Steve grabs your hand, “I knew what I was signing up for.”

“Did you?” You question insecurely.

“Yes, I did,” he states firmly.

A small smile finds its way to your face. 

“He’s always been like this, y’know. It’s just never really mattered before,” you tell him.

“Does that mean it matters now?” He smirks.

“Yeah, dingus,” you laugh, “I actually like you and I’d like for you to stick around a while.”

“You haven't been in any serious relationships then?” He inquires, failing at casual.

“I've had some semi-serious things, but,” you shrug, “I always knew my dad would become too much eventually so I never really let myself get too attached.”

“Until now,” he raises his eyebrows at you as he parks in the driveway.

“Until now,” you confirm with a small smile, “I’ve never felt so much so fast before.”

“Me too,” Steve says with a scrunched-up face.

You laugh as your dad exits the truck, lighting a cigarette. You sigh watching him stroll to the porch.

“Okay, we should go in,” you decide.

Steve nods and follows your lead. The two of you pass by your dad to enter the house. You give him a playful punch as you go by. Steve gives him a respectful nod and smiles. When you walk in, Will and El light up at the sight of Steve.

“Nuh-uh,” you shake your head and grab Steve’s arm before he can be sucked in by the munchkins, “He’s here for me not you. You guys will see him at Scoops tomorrow, I’m sure.”

They pout dramatically at you but don't argue. 

“Hey, maybe now that you’re supervisor we’ll visit you at work more,” Will teases.

The kids always insist that the arcade by Family Video is better. You can't argue too much. Yours is a lot smaller with a smaller selection. They seem to think your new position equals free video games, though. The news leaving Will’s mouth makes you cringe. 

“You got the promotion?” Steve asks with wide eyes.

Your cringe turns into a half smile as you look at him.

“Surprise?” You say, your voice pitched slightly higher.

Steve lifts you up by the waist and spins you around with a wide smile. You fall into laughter as you grab his shoulders.

“Congratulations!” He cheers.

There’s the creaaak thud of the front door falling shut. In a second, you’re on the ground. You and Steve stand at least a foot apart. Your dad stands in the doorway with a slight frown. 

“What's the celebration?” He asks as he toes off his boots. 

“I got the promotion to supervisor,” you tell him.

“Congrats,” he nods with a small smile.

You smile back. 

“Okay, we’re going to hang out in my room. There's a new album I wanted to show Steve,” you tell him and gesture down the hall.

“Door stays open,” he states.

You pause and furrow your brows.

“What?”

“Your door. It stays open.”

“Dad, that’s ridiculous. I’m nineteen years old. I’m going to close my bedroom door if I want to,” you state.

“My roof,” he says.

“No,” you huff, “I’m drawing a line here. I put up with you being crazy every other time. Jonathan closes the door when Nancy is over! Steve is my friend . Come on, Steve.”

Steve avoids your dad’s hard gaze and follows you down the hall. You slam the door after he enters for good measure. He sits on your bed as you fume and pace, mumbling angrily to yourself. Eventually, Steve reaches out and catches your wrist as you go by. He tugs you over to him until you’re settled between his knees. He smiles up at you sweetly.

“How’re you feeling, baby?” he asks gently.

Heat floods your face at the pet name. 

“M’fine. He’s just so frustrating,” you grumble. 

A chuckle tumbles from Steve’s lips. Your brows furrow at him in question.

“You look just like him right now with that face,” he says.

You groan and cover your face with your hands. Steve grabs your wrists and pulls your hands away from your face. You give a dramatic frown.

“Now you look even more like him,” Steve laughs.

You roll your eyes with a smile you can’t fight off. With a playful slap to his chest, you escape Steve’s hold. You pop your favorite tape in your stereo and hit play. It’s Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled album, which tends to surprise people. People usually expect you to have a taste more similar to Jonathan’s. Your clothes aren’t always terribly far off from each other. Hell, you'll admit you've stolen a few items from his side of the room. You turn the music up so it’s loud enough to cover your voice, but not too loud that you can’t talk at all. When you reach your bed again you let yourself fall back into the space next to Steve. 

“Once I finally have a car, the next thing I’m saving up for is an apartment,” you sigh.

“Well, now that you run the place,” Steve smiles down at you, “that won't be too hard.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m a supervisor , not the owner or anything,” you chuckle.

“Ah, soon enough they’ll just hand over the keys,” he waves you off playfully.

You roll your eyes. In a swift motion, you yank his arm so he falls over you. He braces himself on his forearm. You catch his face in your hands and bring him in for a kiss. The unusual feeling of his lips causes you to pull back suddenly.

“Are you wearing lip gloss?” You ask him with a smirk as you pull away, lips stickier than before.

“No, it’s chapstick,” he says defensively.

“Stevie, it’s sticky and cherry flavored. No way you’re convincing me this is chapstick,” you snort.

His cheeks are absolutely glowing red. 

“There’s cherry-flavored chapstick!” He argues.

“Yeah, at the store, not on your lips,” you tease.

“Alright,” he falls onto his back, “I didn’t think you’d notice. I thought it was chapstick when I grabbed it.”

You laugh which earns a bright smile from Steve. The thin green crown around Steve’s pupil reminds you of his father. What will your dad think when he finds out John Harrington knew about your relationship before he did? You chew on your lip as you wonder. Steve takes hold of your chin in the crook of his hand and uses his thumb to tug your lip from its prison.

“Are you sure your dad won’t care that it’s me you’re dating?” You ask quietly.

“The only thing he’ll care about is that he didn’t pick you out for me,” he answers.

“They really don’t care about what you want at all?” You frown already knowing the answer.

“No, I’m here to make them look good,” he smiles wryly.

“Is there anything I should know going in?”

Steve takes an even breath in through his nose as he considers it.

“My mom will be easy. She isn’t present enough to really grasp what’s going on most of the time anyway. She’s nice, though,” he explains slowly as his brain continues to churn through thoughts, “My dad will be a dick to me on purpose. He’s going to try to embarrass me, drive you away to prove you were only after money. I guess just… prove him wrong.”

You lean over and give him a tender kiss on the cheek.

“I’ll prove him so wrong he’s the one that’ll end up embarrassed,” you promise.

Steve grows a brilliant smile.

“I know you will.”

When Joyce gets home around an hour later she’s elated to find Steve there. She insists he stays for dinner. Even when both you and your dad start to protest. Now that there's a dining table big enough to fit the army of kids that are over here every other day, there's no warding her off from insisting people stay to eat. It’s worse than you imagined. Steve is sitting next to you and across from Will. Jonathan and El sit on either side of the younger Byers. Your dad and Joyce are at either end of the table. Your dad’s stern stare is mostly on Steve. You wish you could hold his hand to ease his anxiety.

“So, what’s the car you’re thinking about?” Your dad asks, finally breaking the awkward silence.

“It’s a ‘77 Rabbit. Bit dinged up, but I like it,” you answer pleasantly.

“Volkswagen,” your dad comments as he rubs his chin.

“Yeah,” you say slowly, pleasant mood waning.

The table holds its breath.

“Those things are known for overheating.”

You roll your eyes, proud they stay in your head.

“I know,” you gesture next to you with your thumb, “Steve already told me.”

Steve offers a nervous smile.

“It’s in really good shape, well taken care of, and I know what to look for in a test drive,” he backs you up. 

Your dad stabs his food with his fork and nods. There’s something a little different in his eyes when he looks at Steve. You can almost believe he's lowered the threat level on Steve by at least one. 

“Where’d you learn about cars?” Your dad asks him.

He knows Steve's dad didn't teach him a thing other than anger and violence.

“Magazines, mostly. Friends in school. Books,” Steve shrugs.

“Books?” Jonathan snorts not so subtly.

With flared nostrils, you kick his shin beneath the table. He hisses in pain and shoots a glare at you. You shoot one back. Joyce quietly scolds Jonathan. Your dad is busy rolling his eyes while Will and El snicker. When you look back, Steve is watching you with a tender smile that you’re sure is far too obvious. You’re a little too enamored by it to care. Quickly, you compose yourself and look down at your plate as casually as possible. 

“Careful where you point that thing,” you whisper and tap the corner of your own smile. 

A small laugh bursts from Steve drawing attention. The tips of his ears go ruby.

“What’s so funny?” Your dad questions.

“Nothing, it was an inside joke,” you shake your head. 

Your dad starts talking to Jonathan about college. Jonathan starts halfheartedly going on about Emerson. You let yourself get stuck on Steve for a moment. A hint of a smile appears on your lips as you observe him interact with Will and El so easily. It's like he’s another older brother. The distraction means you miss Joyce bearing witness to the entire lovesick scene. Pieces click together for her then and her heart cracks. She glances at your dad with a small frown. 

Her eyes slide back to you. They find Steve’s attention is back on you. It’s never gone from you for long, that's another thing she noticed tonight. She isn't sure how aware of each other’s feelings you are, but she knows one thing for sure. Your dad is preventing you from really trying with Steve. He's standing between you and something that could be good for you, that could make you happy.

Joyce knows his bias against Steve is unfair and rooted mostly in his feelings for Steve's father. Well, half in his feelings for Steve’s father and half in his fear of losing you. Something he can already feel happening, causing him to grip tighter. She sighs as she makes a decision. She has to knock some sense into your dad. She fears if she doesn't you’ll end up resenting him and he’ll really lose you. 

“You guys doing that movie night this week?” Your dad asks as dinner wraps up.

“Yup, every Friday,” you answer, collecting your and Steve’s empty plates. 

“Parents aren't home?” 

Your eyes narrow slightly and dart to him. Something about the way he asks causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand in warning. He’s asking because he already knows the answer. He’s fishing for a lie. Steve’s mouth opens in the face of your hesitation. You know he’s posed to lie, posed to try to save you only to unknowingly damn you.

“They are,” you answer quickly, startling him, “but they’ll be gone before we get there.”

Your dad nods slowly, eyes bouncing between the two of you.

“We’re absolutely positive?” He presses. 

Guilt claws its way up your throat. Once again, you think about how John Harrington is going to know about your relationship before your own father. You open your mouth to snap about him being rude but don't get the chance.

“We’re absolutely positive,” Steve answers evenly.

Your dad settles a thoughtful stare onto Steve. After a moment he just nods and looks at you again. As the guilt monster grows even more, you expect it to take the shape of something horrid. A Demogorgon, perhaps. It doesn't. Your dad gives you a small smile as a peace offering. The guilt monster peaks around his chair with a familiar sly smile and blonde pigtails. The image of your little sister dries your throat. You’ll be lucky if sleep comes at all tonight. 

Joyce catches you before you can head to Robin’s. You have clothes stashed there to change into. This way your outfit doesn't tip anyone off. You’re just finishing lacing up your shoes when she knocks on the open door. She stands in the doorway with a small smile and her hands clasped in front of her.

“Do you have a minute before you go?” She asks.

You nod and she enters. You sit up straighter when she closes the door behind her.

“What’s up?” You question.

“It’s about Steve-”

“If my dad put you up to this-”

“He didn't. I’m here about him, actually. I know he has certain opinions and concerns, but… I’m not blind. You two clearly like each other. I think Steve is a good kid and you two deserve a chance,” she tells you calmly. 

Your heart begins to race. 

“Wh- what are you saying?”

“I’m going to talk to your dad. I just wanted you to know why he feels so strongly,” she sighs.

You pat the spot next to you on your bed. She perches herself there. Her eyes are big and sad, something you hate to see. You don't see it often anymore, not since you all started living together. 

“If you’re going to tell me about Steve’s dad, I already know,” you inform her.

“What do you know?”

“Enough,” you shrug, “That he’s controlling and abusive. That Steve couldn't be any more different from him.”

Joyce nods. She glances at the door and then back to you. Something sits heavy on her tongue, you can tell. It drops a pit in your stomach. Maybe you don't want to know.

“Your dad has had to answer more than one call at their house. The Harringtons have always been known for two things in Hawkins. Money and… well, hitting,” she explains evenly, “From what I know, Steve didn't call 911. It was always the neighbors. Now, your dad doesn't blame Steve for that, but he doesn't trust him either.”

Acid burns the back of your throat as tears burn the backs of your eyes. You can't fathom it. You can't imagine sweet, kind, gentle Steve growing up around such violence and chaos. You can't imagine him even considering raising a hand against you. It all only makes you want to get to him quicker, hug him tightly, and promise that you know he won't continue the Harrington legacy. 

“Steve would die before hurting me,” you say shakily, “He’s never- He’d never do anything like that.”

You can feel Joyce’s eyes sit on you. You keep your own on your hands in your lap.

“You two are already together, aren't you?” It’s half a question, half a sigh.

Your eyes fall shut. All you can do is nod. 

“I don't like that you've been lying,” Joyce says, “but I understand why you’ve been lying. I’ll talk to your dad about being easier on Steve. Just know, he may be upset for a little bit when you tell him.”

“Thank you, Joyce,” you smile gratefully at her. 

She grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze. Then she tells you to have fun and lets you go. You say goodbye to your dad and walk to Robins. The only reason you don't run is that you don't want to sweat before going to Steve’s. Joyce’s words rattle around uncomfortably in your head. Your dad doesn't blame Steve for that, but he doesn't trust him either . 

It doesn’t occur to you until you're walking into Robin’s that Joyce was wrong. It’s not that your dad doesn't trust Steve. He doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you to make your own decisions. He doesn't trust you to take care of yourself. He doesn't trust you to be in a relationship at all. Now, he likely doesn't trust a word from your mouth. For good reason, but your stomach still twists. 

You tell Robin about the conversation with Joyce as you get ready. Her eyes are owlish as you speak. She lays on her bed staring at her ceiling as you change near the closet.

“It's good, though, right? I mean, you have Joyce on your side. She always seems to be able to get him to change his mind,” Robin says. 

“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don't feel good about her lying for me too.”

“It's temporary.”

“I know, but… how temporary? I hate this, Rob. I hate lying and sneaking around. I just want to be able to see my boyfriend a-and meet his parents- even if they do suck! He told me I’m acting differently, but I don't know what he wants from me! I can't have a life and be close to him,” you rant, eyes watering by the end.

Robin stands. You’re dressed and sufficiently nervous. It doesn't matter how nice you look, it won't be nice enough. Robin walks up to you and wraps you in a warm comforting hug.

“It’ll all work out, I know it,” she says softly because she doesn't have any other words. 

“I hope so. I know it's soon, but I think I’m falling in love with him, Rob, and I really don't want my dad to hate me for that,” you whisper in reply.

Robin just hugs you tighter. You give her a kiss on the cheek when Steve arrives before bounding out to his beemer. You manage to steal the first kiss this time. There's a moment before pulling out where the two of you take each other in. Steve is in an ironed polo with white and coffee-brown stripes. Jeans hug his legs in the way you love and his white tennis shoes are secure on his feet. He looks so good you want to eat him up.

“You look… wow ,” Steve breathes. 

“Shut up,” you smirk with glowing red cheeks.

Steve grins brightly and pulls out of Robin’s driveway. 

“You look wow too, by the way,” you tell him teasingly.

He chuckles and his hand finds its home on your thigh. Yours finds its own home over his.

“Nervous?” He asks.

“Very,” you admit.

“Nothing my parents think or say will ever change anything. I don't care what they want anymore,” he assures you.

You squeeze his hand.

“I know,” you answer.

This is the first time you’re nervous walking up to Steve’s door. His hand is always on you somewhere, never not touching now that you’re on Harrington grounds. He leads the way in, giving you as much time to prepare as possible. Stepping into the house is like stepping through a portal. It smells different. Clearly from someone cooking, but it isn't anything you’ve smelled Steve cook before. Everything is brighter. You realize more lights are on than usual. Even the sounds are off. There are light voices, but not the ones you’re so familiar with. In the background is subtle jazz music to fill in any empty spaces. It’s so… bizarre . 

Steve’s back straightens, shoulders tensing up. You watch forlornly as your Steve recedes and their Steve comes out. His arm circles you almost protectively as you venture further into the house. Before you face his parents you come to terms with the idea that you’re alone right now. Your Steve is gone at the moment. He had to make room, save face. So, you’ll do your best to get by on your own until he’s back. 

“Mom, Dad,” Steve says as you enter the kitchen. 

He formally introduces the three of you. You manage a nice smile despite your nerves. Up close you can see the frame of Steve’s face on his mother. She’s truly a beautiful woman with a kind smile and sparkling brown eyes. However, something about her eyes is a little off. They don't feel like they're looking quite at you. Steve’s father gifts you a polite smile as he shakes your hand. It takes a moment for it to really click, but when it does you feel a bite of shame in your gut. 

Steve’s parents are dressed nicer than the two of you. You aren't sure they own anything that isn't at least business casual. Your eyes bounce to Steve to really take in the way he matched you in casualness. Did he do that on purpose? 

“How did you two meet?” Steve’s mother asks as you all sit around the table.

“The police station when we were around six and seven,” Steve answers, drawing your surprised gaze, “We- uh- we were both there waiting to be picked up after school. Uncle Phil was watching me that day for whatever reason.”

You recall the day in question. The two of you made pirate hats out of newspapers and turned the station into your ship. It was so brief and so long ago. You can't believe Steve even remembers it. 

“You two have been friends that long?” His father asks with questioning eyebrows.

“No, we really only became friends the last year or so,” you reply, “but it’s just always been kind of natural with us, I guess.”

Steve smiles at you. A crack in his exterior, a glimpse at your Steve. He’s swept away again by his father’s calculating eyes. The smile dies.

“Are you in school with Steve?” His mother asks politely.

Your eyebrows twitch into a furrow, but you quickly catch yourself. 

“Uh- n- no, we-” you start.

“We’ve both graduated, mom. We work at the mall together,” Steve finishes for you.

“You weren't being asked, Steve,” his father chides sharply.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Steve mutters quickly.

“Oh, it’s fine. He usually just says what I would have anyways,” you wave him off casually.

Steve's eyes dart to you in subtle amazement.

“It’s still rude,” his father states with an air of finality. 

“I don't know if Steve has a rude bone in his body,” you chuckle lightly.

“You said you work at the mall together,” his father drawls, “What do you plan to do?”

“Right now I’m just focusing on the promotion I got. I haven't decided on a set career path,” you answer honestly.

“Oh, congratulations,” his mother chirps.

“Thank you,” you make a point to smile at her. 

Steve pours water into your half-empty glass before you can ask. He also retrieves the salt before you can reach for it. Every little thing he does to ease your evening brings a small smile to your face. He’s taking care of you. Even in front of his parents, he’s taking care of you in any way he can.

“Lance from Boston called the other day,” his father comments offhandedly halfway through the meal, “Said they could use help opening up the auxiliary office.”

“Does that mean we’re going to Boston?” His mother asks.

“Actually, I was thinking Steve could go to Boston.”

Both yours and Steve’s faces snap to him. 

“What?” Steve balks.

“I think it would be a good opportunity for you to start climbing the ladder in the company. Don't worry, it isn't too much work,” his father says casually.

You swear your heart has stopped.

“N- no, I’m not doing that,” Steve protests, “I don't want to work for your company. I don't want to go to Boston. I- I like my job right now. I don't want to do it forever, but I can figure that out!”

He’s borderline panicked. You lace your fingers through his under the table. The movement of your arm doesn't slip by his father.

“Right, because you have so much here to worry about,” his father rolls his eyes, “You have to get serious, Steve. Friends and relationships will only get you so far. You really think anyone is going to want to stay with you if you can't bring home a decent paycheck?”

Steve’s mouth opens and snaps shut. His eyebrows furrow insecurely. You tighten your grasp on his hand. 

“I can make money doing something else,” Steve argues weakly.

“Okay, what? If you want to make money another way, fine. But you have to tell me what. You can't keep wasting your time working at the mall,” his father snaps.

“I don't know yet-”

“Then you're going to Boston. End of discussion.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve sighs defeatedly.

It rips you open. You’d like to punch John Harrington in the nose.

“For what it's worth,” you say, grabbing everyone’s attention, “from someone who is here every day, there's a lot in Hawkins for Steve. Actually, I don't think it'd be the same without him. I don't just mean me, either. Although, I’ll admit I’m definitely a big part of it.”

Steve hooks his ankle around yours beneath the table. You turn your smile on him and find his waiting.

“You remind me a lot of your father,” John Harrington sighs, “Getting involved in family business that doesn't concern you.”

“That's not fair. We’re all at this table having this conversation,” Steve argues stronger now, “You just don't want to admit you don't know anything about me or my life.”

It's an outburst that silences the table for a minute. You think Steve’s grip on your hand may shatter your bones, but you’re okay with making that sacrifice for him. He keeps himself stoic, but you can tell. You can see the anxiety and the anticipation. His father’s piercing green eyes slide from Steve to you.

“Does the chief know where you are?” He asks pointedly.

You swallow nervously.

“Yes,” you don't technically lie.

He hm’s as he regards you carefully.

“And he knows who you’re with?”

“Yes,” you don't technically lie a little quieter.

He knows you're with Steve at Steve’s. Steve’s father’s eyes glint in amusement. He smirks like he’s privy to something you're not. It leaves you feeling anxious and exposed. Then his expression hardens and moves to Steve again.

“Stay in Hawkins. Waste your time at the mall, but you’ll be doing it without our money. You can stay here, but that's the only help you'll receive from us. So, you better make your decision wisely,” his father offers what he thinks is a difficult ultimatum.

“Okay,” Steve replies without hesitation.

“What?” His father questions coolly.

“I’ll stay in Hawkins with my nothing,” Steve answers with a shrug.

His father’s jaw clicks as it sets. His knuckles go white around his utensils. An even exhale exits from his nose.

“Fine,” he states with that finality again.

“Wait,” Steve's mom points at you with her fork, “Are you Jim Hopper’s kid?”

And just like that the conversation moves on as if that confrontation never happened. The night isn't awful considering. It's certainly uncomfortable, but you can deal with that. You manage to make it to the car before Steve's all over you. He crowds you against the passenger side, hands holding your face as he presses a passionate kiss to your lips. You grip his shirt, the only purchase you could get in your surprise. Your skin buzzes with the feeling of Steve. He pulls away, but you follow and steal another kiss. He smiles into it.

When you finally let him go, he keeps his forehead on yours. Something he noticed you like. Really, you like proximity in general, but you especially like being close enough to steal kisses. 

“You’re amazing, y’know that? I don't think I tell you that enough,” he smiles.

“I mean, I wouldn't object to you telling me that more,” you smirk.

“You’re,” he kisses you again briefly, “amazing.”

“Please,” you chuckle, “you were a total badass in there!”

“Yeah?” He grins.

“Oh, big time. The way you stood up to him was honestly hot,” you tell him flirtatiously. 

“Is that right?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You laugh and playfully shove his face away. He laughs too, letting his forehead fall to your shoulder. Your fingers comb lightly through the back of his hair. His hands drop to rest on your waist. 

“Steve, this might sound stupid, but did you dress like this because of me?” You ask quietly after a moment.

He lifts his head. You come face to face with familiar furrowed eyebrows.

“I always dress like this,” he says.

“I know, but you must have known how nice they were dressed,” you point out.

His caramel-apple eyes search yours for a moment. He takes an even breath.

“I knew if we were both dressed normally they would assume you were ‘dressed down’,” he does finger quotes, “because of me. Not because you don't care.”

To his surprise, you give him a small smile. He was expecting you to be something close to offended at least. 

“That’s really sweet,” you tell him softly.

“What’s sweet was you standing up for me back there.”

“Me? Steve, you just gave up everything for what you wanted. You did just fine on your own,” you shake your head.

“I wouldn't have been able to if I didn't have you.”

“I doubt that. You’re very capable.”

“Are you kidding? I only cared about staying for you,” he chuckles like you're silly for not realizing.

“R- really?”

“Yeah, you dope,” he laughs, “I love you.”

It's like you're flying. You crash your lips into his, both of you smiling. 

“I love you too,” you tell him with a chuckle. 

He kisses you a few more times before taking you back to Robin’s. 

<< Rule One | Rule Three >>

[mumms-the-word]

New Normal

Day 28 of the BG3 Fic February Challenge

We're almost there guys :') I can't believe I've posted 28 fics about BG3 content here

I have Thoughts(TM) about what all of my Tav/Durges are doing after the game ends, after the epilogue, etc., but I wrote two for today (one was already written lol). If you're curious about what my Durges get up to, I've speculated in the tags since I haven't finished either game yet

Check out my masterlist of BG3 fics!

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28. Describe your Tav/Durge's life after BG3 ends

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Nearly six months had passed since Dani and her little company, as she liked to call them, had defeated the Netherbrain, but her work was far from over. The brain had wrecked her beloved Baldur's Gate, and while she could shrug off the damage to the Upper City districts, she couldn’t ignore the rest of the city. So just as soon as the celebrations were over, she rolled up her sleeves and got to work.

She’d half expected Gale to tire of Baldur’s Gate and ask her to leave it for Waterdeep, but to her surprise, he’d also rolled up his sleeves and offered his services wherever they were needed. She might have been the one dragging him hither and thither, finding new projects to tackle alongside Jaheira’s Harpers and Nine-Fingers’ guild and the Flaming Fist loyal to Ravengard, but Gale’s spellwork was invaluable in every circumstance and he was quick to offer solutions when others struggled to think of any. When he wasn’t researching a way to salvage the crown from the river and reforge it to give to Mystra (or, having completed that, ways of cooling down Karlach's heart, ways of granting Astarion the ability to walk in the sun again, a cure for Shadowheart's Sharran wound, and much, much more), he was following Dani, lending his magical strength to her and those she sought to help.

She only loved him more for it. 

Together they worked to make sure the tiefling refugees were cared for. She knew the city well enough, even as damaged as it was, to know the best place for Danis and Bex to set up their bakery, or find shelter for the tieflings kids, who all seemed content enough to stick with Mol. Dammon was more than all set at his forge, Lakrissa and Alfira had already found a place on their own which they were turning into a music school, and Rolan had his tower, of course (and she would always be grateful for the fact that he opened up the tower’s resources to help with city’s reconstruction, too). It was only all too convenient that, apart of Rolan’s tower in the Upper City, the bakery, the forge, the music school, all of the homes and businesses of the tiefling refugees happened to be in the same district, even the same neighborhood. The Lower City had become a new home for the tieflings, with new families just waiting to take root.

She wasn’t entirely altruistic about her aid, however. As the savior of the city, she negotiated first pick of a house for her mother and another for the Rovers, both in good parts of the Lower City, before finally choosing a property for herself and Gale. Her mother and the Rovers would live near the new tiefling neighborhood where they could join in that community (if they so desired) while she and Gale secured a modest property overlooking the Chionthar and the hills beyond. The balcony didn’t quite offer the same sunset as Gale’s balcony in Waterdeep, but it was close.

It was in her little balcony that they sat now, six months since their victory, a bit tired from their day’s work but satisfied. Dani had decorated her balcony with a comfy loveseat similar to Gale’s in Waterdeep, and it was there that she loved to stretch out, her legs in Gale’s lap as she read a story or wrote down a song or, as their current personal project had become, jotting down notes and passages detailing their adventures in order to turn it into a book someday. Better to get a head start on Volo before he published his account with all the details all wrong. On evenings like this, Gale usually balanced a book on her legs or held the tome gingerly in one hand while his other hand absently smoothed up and down her calves. They spent many an afternoon like that, lost in their own little worlds, reading or writing.

At the moment, however, her legs once more in his lap, she was writing a letter to his mother, the slightly intimidating, dauntless Morena Dekarios. She remembered their first meeting all too well. Gale had insisted they take a break from their work in Baldur’s Gate to pay her a visit and break the news to her of their engagement in person. Dani agreed—after all, fair was fair. He had already met her mother, and her mother positively loved Gale. But Morena was another story entirely.

She was certain Morena would disapprove of her. Dani was hardly an elegant, well-educated woman of class or substance. And though Dani was rarely one to feel shaky nerves or stage fright, something about meeting Gale’s mother had made her palms sweaty and her brain second-guessing every decision that had led up to their meeting. She honestly, truly would have preferred to take on the Netherbain again, alone, than face Gale's mother and suffer her judgment.

But to her surprise, aside from a sharp once over the moment that Morena’s eyes had landed on her, she found Morena nothing but warm and welcoming. Morena was delighted that Gale had finally found someone to love him as much as she did and made Dani charmed and at ease in her lush Waterdhavian home. The only negative emotion Dani could discern from her was that she was a little sad that her boy had decided to live so far away...for now.

“It won’t be forever, right, my love?” Gale had said, turning to look at Dani. And though she wanted to protest a little—Baldur’s Gate was her home, after all, the place that had made her, had shaped her—she always had a hard time saying no to his warm, brown eyes. Or to adventure, when it called, and Waterdeep seemed like a place where adventure came in spades.

“We have work to complete in Baldur’s Gate,” she’d said, “but once that is done…I wouldn’t mind seeing what the City of Splendors has to offer.”

Of course, they were married in Baldur’s Gate, not Waterdeep. That part she had insisted on, feeling as though she might risk Morena’s ire to do so. But Morena had merely waved her hand, unflustered, and said it made sending invitations easier. Not every Dekarios liked to travel, it seemed.

The wedding itself had been quite small, by Waterdavian standards (so Gale had said) but she thought it was perfect. Her mother had made her wedding gown entirely from scratch, hand-stitching the embroidery along the hem of the skirt and around the neckline. Each member of the Merry Rovers had given her a sash to tie around her waist, as was customary for Baldur’s Gate bards. Brann had even gone a little misty-eyed when he put his sash, a soft, worn, light blue linen thing, in her hand. Liara had given her one in pinkish-red, insisting that she had been saving it for her own wedding day, but Dani clearly deserved it more. (Dani of course disagreed and promised to find an exquisite sash for Lee’s wedding, which was, they both agreed, long overdue.) Kellen had chosen a pleasant gold color, while Paraxxel, finally safe and recovering and back with the Rovers, had gone with a dark blue. The day of her wedding, Dani wore all four sashes from all four Rovers, arranging them so that each color was visible. 

Brann had insisted he and the Rovers play for the festivities after the ceremony, but Dani pointed out Liara would very disappointed not to dance, so Brann had relented and said they would only play half the time if Dani and her “fancy wizard fiancé” could conjure up a band to play the other half. Gale had gone one step further and learned a spell to conjure spirit instruments just for the occasion, though Dani and the Rovers had to teach them the music beforehand (not that she minded a reason to play with her old troupe again). 

She and Gale held their ceremony in a park overlooking the river, with tents and rugs and pillows and pieces of furniture scrounged together to make a half-decent ceremony and reception space for all the guests. Gale wanted to cast an illusion to create an entire palatial venue, but Dani told him to save his energy. She didn't care about the venue. She just wanted him there, and she wanted her friends there, and she wanted there to be music and dancing and food and wine and fun.

It didn't have to be perfect. She wasn't perfect. She didn't mind if all they did was pay a priest to say some words in the middle of the street, so long as she was well and truly married to him. Besides, the conglomeration of tents and furniture reminded her of the camps where their love had first formed. It may not impress her wealthier guests, but it was special to her.

They married at sunset, exchanging a kiss as the sun dipped down behind hills. Gale always did look best with the orange-gold light of a setting sun to make every warm tone in his face, eyes, and hair that much warmer. And he’d been swooningly handsome in his wedding garb, a gift from his mother and Tara, carefully selected to match Dani’s hand-made outfit without outshining it. She'd been all too giddy to show him off, to be on his arm. The Gale Dekarios, her new husband.

Nearly all their friends had made it, to her surprise. Astarion had to watch the ceremony from a safe, shadowy distance until the sun was set enough for him to join properly, but Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Jaheira, Minsc, Halsin, and a whole host of friends she’d made along the way—nearly every tiefling she’d bonded with, Jaheira’s kids, Florrick and Duke Ravengard of all people, and several others—they’d all been able to sit to view the ceremony itself. It was made all the more perfect when Gale surprised her with one of many wedding gifts, conjuring a scrying eye that allowed Karlach and Wyll to watch from Avernus and allowing Dani to briefly converse with them. She'd broken down in tears, missing two of her best friends, but she'd been grateful they would witness her wedding at all and that she could speak with them, even for a short time.

The post-ceremony festivities were a bit of a blur, now, a few weeks after all was said and done. Dani remembered getting Gale to dance not just once but several times, and dancing with plenty more people besides. Lee, Paraxxel, her mother, Brann, Shadowheart, even Astarion had deigned to join her for a brief turn. She remembered laughing often, kissing Gale often, hugging everyone she loved often. She remembered thinking that Baldur’s Gate had never looked so beautiful than it did in that park, surrounded by her friends and family, the trees hung with lanterns and fairy lights floating blissfully through the air.

And then it was over, and she and Gale had fallen into bed that night exhausted, only to rise the next morning with plans to return to the restoration of Baldur’s Gate.

That hadn’t happened, of course. They’d both slept in until around noon, and by that time they’d decided to just stay in for a day. Dani had promised Gale they’d go on a honeymoon trip as soon as they could be freed from a few obligations, but Gale had other plans. Since they were just going to stay at home for the day, why not make the most of it?

He’d spent hours conjuring illusions for her, starry galaxy skies and seas of stardust, as he used to do, but also grassy fields to lay in, mountain peaks to gaze out from, views from the deck of a ship sailing to far and exotic lands. In his visions she’d walked hand in hand with him through colorful markets and stood at the edge of canyons and valleys that took her breath away. And when his illusions started to wobble as he yawned and grew tired, she wrapped herself around him and kissed him a hundred times as thanks.

Alas, no rest for the wicked after that. They still had a city to rebuild. Books to write. Letters to answer. Patriars to ignore.

Dani smiled to herself as her pen paused on a sentence to Morena, glancing up at Gale. He was tracing idle circles in her leg with one hand while concentrating carefully on the book in his other hand. The setting sun glinted off his wedding band.

Like hers, it was made of two metals, a simple silver that had formerly been one of her many earrings and a beautiful gold that Gale had carefully selected from his mother's jewelry collection (which she was very quick to offer) to match the gold of Dani's eyes. They'd gotten Dammon to make two simple rings out of the metal and then found a jewelry smith to cut each ring in half, then join opposite halves together, and then engrave them. It was a Waterdhavian marriage custom, one that Dani had fallen in love with as Morena and Gale explained it to her. She flicked her gaze down to admire her own ring, appreciating the craftsmanship and what it meant to her and Gale, before looking back at him. He read on, absorbed in his own little world.

She took advantage of the moment to watch him, admiring his profile, the shape of his lips, how soft his hair looked. Her husband. Every time she thought that word she got a little giddy.

She shifted and reached out to brush her fingers against his shoulder, not wanting to disturb him too abruptly. But whatever had captured his attention, her touch had easily broken. He lowered the book immediately to turn and give her a smile, as if he'd been waiting for her to seek his attention.

“Yes, my love?”

She giggled slightly and sat up, shifting to sit comfortably in his lap. “I just wanted a kiss,” she said, weaving her fingers loosely together behind his neck. “Nothing much.”

“You know I am always willing to oblige you, my love,” he said, matching her smile. He set his book aside and wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning in to brush his lips against hers once, twice, several times.

“I love you,” she murmured against his lips.

“I love you,” was his ready response. Always on his tongue, that little sentence. Always full of warmth and sincerity. He must have said it a thousand times already.

She looked forward to him saying it a thousand times more. Here, in Baldur's Gate, their new home, and beyond, in Waterdeep, on the road to new adventures, in the dark of the night, in the first hours of the morning.

She was happy to be in her city, seeing to its recovery, making sure everyone she loved had a warm home and that the city would be back to normal soon. But she knew deep down that it didn't really matter where she was. She was a Merry Rover, used to roaming. But now she was also Dani Dekarios, and she was content to be with Gale, her husband, wherever their adventures took them.

———

Ardynn gazed up at the stars, her head pillowed on Halsin’s bare arm as they lay, unclothed, on a threadbare blanket in a small clearing in the woods. Withers’ party had come and gone and they were on their way back to Thaniel’s lands, to the community they had built, together. Halsin was eager to regale the children with new stories for their bedtime tales and Ardynn was eager to settle once more into the life she had fought so hard to earn. A home of her own. A life partner to spend her days with. Children to care for and people to help as they built new lives in Thaniel’s recovering lands. 

Halsin had been shocked when she responded to his plans of leaving Baldur’s Gate to build a refuge in Thaniel’s realm by insisting that she would go with him. He’d been quick to mention all that she would be leaving behind, but she shook her head, pressing her hand to his heart and reassuring him that she was certain of what she wanted. She wanted him. She wanted to join him in his new purpose. She wanted to build a refuge with him, away from the city, where nature and society could live in a healthy balance. It was Halsin’s dream, but it had become hers, too.

So for the last six months, they’d worked together to build their little village, taking care of an entire gaggle of children, restoring buildings so that they could become homes for weary refugees, slowly but surely creating a home for themselves.

They had chosen a cabin that had been ripped in half by the destruction of the shadow curse, but had since been made whole again through Thaniel’s intervention. A living tree now grew up from the floorboards to hold part of the ceiling. Thick vines patched the holes in the walls and mossy rocks made up part of the new foundation. They tended their home as if it were another living thing in their care, because it was. 

She couldn’t wait until they were back home again.

The owlbear was coming with them, too. He slumbered deeply several feet away, curled up in the grass. She would have to figure out where he would sleep once they were back home, but she didn’t mind. She loved the big, silly creature.

And he wouldn’t be the only new addition to their community, before long.

She turned her head to watch Halsin. His eyes were closed in meditation, his breathing deep and even, but she knew that he would awake with the barest touch of her hand. She didn’t disturb his meditation just yet. She simply watched, smiling to herself, cradling close the news she would have to give him soon. Perhaps tonight. Perhaps in a few days.

It was easy to keep it a secret for now. For one, the idea terrified her as much as it thrilled her. For another, she didn’t know how Halsin might react to such news. It was still so new to her, it barely felt real. But even she couldn’t ignore the flutters in her body anymore, and after Shadowheart’s subtle comment at the party…

You feel a little more substantial than before.

There was no denying it now. Shadowheart had been teasing, had chalked it up to Ardynn’s new settled lifestyle, but Ardynn knew better. And after a few more moments of conversation, Shadowheart had gleaned part of the situation for herself.

“Swear to keep it a secret?” Ardynn asked her. “I haven’t told anyone else. Not even Halsin.”

“You don’t want to announce that kind of news at a party like this? You never know when we’ll all be gathered together again.”

“I’ll tell everyone in time. In my own way. Once I’m sure I’m not imagining things.”

Shadowheart had relented and kept her silence, but it had been a little thrilling, finally having a friend that was in on the secret. Finally feeling like she wasn’t just imagining the changes she felt. She’d almost asked Shadowheart to do some kind of diagnostic magic, just confirm her suspicions, but she’d held back. 

Now, though, she was absolutely certain. She pressed a hand to her belly and held her breath. There was a new, subtle firmness beneath her fingers, but that wasn’t what she was seeking. She closed her eyes, concentrating.

There. A tiny fluttering, almost so small as to be missed, deep within her. Unnoticeable by her fingers alone, but felt nonetheless.

Hello little one, she whispered silently in her mind.

She opened her eyes again, her face still turned toward Halsin’s. He remained deep in meditation, oblivious to her thoughts, her worries. She didn’t have to worry that he would be a terrible father. That part wasn't necessarily her concern. He lavished love and affection on the children that had accompanied them to live in Thaniel’s realm. She recalled the thought he had shared with her, spoken softly and mournfully, back when they were still in the city and had finally met Jaheira’s family.

I was never afforded a chance to start a family of my own. Serving nature always had to come first.

Now he had his family. He had dozens of children to share his love with, and a community of others who were helping to heal the land and tend to it. He had Thaniel, too, and he had her.

She just hoped there was a little bit of room left over in that big, fierce heart of his for one more.

She couldn’t wait any longer. She reached out and gently brushed the backs of her fingers against his cheek, whispering his name. He turned his head, seeking more of her touch, as his eyes opened slowly. She waited until he was looking at her, fully awake, before smiling and cuddling closer into his side.

“I could stare at you for a lifetime,” he murmured, before she could say anything. The arm around her shifted and she felt his fingertips brush down her side. “Is there something wrong, my heart? I thought you would be asleep by now.”

She shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong. I was just thinking.” She took a deep breath and decided this would go better if she could more easily see his face. She sat up, shifting to settle on her knees and turning to face him. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for several days now.”

“Oh?” He propped himself up on one elbow, looking pleasantly curious. It helped settle the bundle of nerves in her stomach a little. “Tell me, my love.”

She opened her mouth to say the words but found she couldn’t at first. She swallowed and tried again, her words coming out in a small whisper. “I think I am with child.”

She saw the change in his expression immediately. He stared, his lips parting slightly, and then his gaze flicked down to look at her bare middle. A look of sudden, avid, almost boyish curiosity stole over his features and he sat up, pressing one large hand to her stomach, golden nature magic glowing from his palm and sinking into her skin. She held her breath, watching his face as it changed from curiosity to baffled wonder to misty-eyed joy. She panicked a little when he dropped his head down, pressing both hands into the fabric of the blanket beneath him, only to feel her heart wrench when he lifted his head again and she saw the tears gathered in his eyes.

“You are,” he breathed. “You’re with child.”

“Your child,” she said, cradling his face in her hands. Tears were threatening her eyes too now, especially when the first teardrop tracked down his cheek. She rubbed it away with her thumb. “Our child, Halsin.”

He whispered something she didn’t catch, some prayer or praise to Silvanus, and gathered her up in his arms, hugging her fiercely to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and hid her face in his neck, fighting the urge to laugh and to cry all at the same time. He laid back with her still held tightly in his arms before finally letting her go.

She pushed herself up on her hands, gazing down at him and finding his face wet with tears even as he grinned widely, elated. She laughed slightly and wiped the tears from his face. “You’re a bit big to be crying,” she said, recalling the words Oliver had said to him all those months ago. Halsin laughed too, wrapping his arms loosely around her middle.

“How could I not? I am not ashamed.”

“And you’re not upset?” she asked, still brushing her fingertips against his cheeks. She paused to lay a hand on his chest, gazing earnestly down at him. “We have so many children to look after already, and much work to do besides.”

“Upset? Far from it. A child of my own blood…” He caressed her face with his hand, sinking his fingers into her hair, and she couldn’t help but nuzzle into his palm out of habit. “It was a distant dream. I never assumed anyone would wish to stay with me long enough to make that a reality. And yet…here you are. Choosing me again and again.”

“I will always choose you,” she whispered. She pressed her hand more firmly against his chest, over his heart. “Always, Halsin. For as long as you’ll have me.”

He smiled, his face beaming with joy and love, and guided her head down so that they could kiss. She lost herself in his kisses for a moment, happy to be pressed against him, skin to skin, with only the moonlight as their witness. But then she felt his smile against her lips and his laughter against her body.

“I shall have to take better care of you once we are back home,” he murmured.

“And you shall have to be careful not to spoil our child more than you spoil any of the others,” she teased, pulling back to grin down at him. She knew he wouldn’t. Halsin loved all the children equally. It didn’t matter whether they were his blood or not. 

“Our child,” he breathed, still caressing her cheek and gazing lovingly up at her. “I can scarcely believe it.”

She smiled and bent forward for another kiss. “I love you, Halsin,” she whispered.

“And I love you, my heart.” He pressed his hand to her belly again, turning his head to direct his voice downward toward it. “And I love you, little one.”

She giggled and rolled to the side until she was curled up against his side again. She guided one of his hands to rest on her belly and snuggled in close, closing her eyes. “I can’t wait to meet them.”

“Nor I, my heart. Nor I.”

[silverjetsystm]

REPOST & LIST 6 SONGS THAT INSPIRE YOU TO WRITE YOUR MUSE .

This got long because I did some for each.

Cut.

The Killing Moon (All Night Version) - Echo & The Bunnymen (aka Marc's canonical ringtone).

Under blue moon, I saw you So soon you'll take me Up in your arms, too late to beg you Or cancel it, though I know it must be The killing time Unwillingly mine

V - Cyberpunk 2077, Marcin Przybyłowicz

Sheyn vi di levone - Gevolt

You are as beautiful a the moon, you are as bright as the stars, you have been sent to me from the heavens, you are a gift from above. I found my happiness when I saw you. You made my heart happy - you are as beautiful as a thousand suns.

Norra El Norra (Entering The Ark) - Orphaned Land

Nora El Nora, the lord of courage Return to me my lord, mend my wounds My soul is yearning, and in valor we wait Nora I sing to thee, hymn of praise To you I give my life and faith Through all time, mighty Nora Deliver us the progany of Abraham Offspring of greatness You are the living God Giver of Torah

Dead Don't Die - Shinedown

The dead don't die, the heart still beats Head held high, I haunt these streets Life's killed me a hundred thousand times You can try, you can try, but the dead don't die

Not Changing Pops, Seeking - Nightlab

I'm not changing pops, I'm seeking And I hear what you're preaching But this drowsy inanition can't stay I am screaming out this seance While a spectral love is playing with the lights It just ain't right

Everybody Knows - Leonard Cohen

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows

Hymn For The Weekend - Coldplay

Oh, angel sent from up above You know you make my world light up When I was down, when I was hurt You came to lift me up Life is a drink and love's a drug Oh, now I think I must be miles up When I was a river dried up You came to rain a flood

Main Theme From Goncharov - Jordan Dean

My Love - Florence & The Machine

There is nothing to describe Except the moon still bright against the worrying sky I pray the trees will get their leaves soon So tell me where to put my love Do I wait for time to do what it does? I don't know where to put my love

Inner Emigration - Daniel Kahn, Painted Bird (there is a reason why I chose a very Jewish song without any Yiddish nor Hebrew for Mr. Grant)

So make a kind of inner emigration It's a kind of shift accomplished easily We all have made our disassociations Whether on the job or in our family And what could be more irrelevant than nations When everywhere you go, it's buy or sell? But if we all make only inner emigrations Then everything will only go to hell

11:11 - Ben Barnes

I wish for you to be happy I wish for you to be free I wish for you to be fearless That's wishes one, two, and three And I won't wish to be yours or for you to be mine But I'll wish them all for you every time

Dance the Night - Dua Lipa (while themes could be Grant, this wound up becoming a driving song. per the Wall Street/Main Street Treaty of 20XX, it's a Jake song)

Watch me dance, dance the night away My hеart could be burnin', but you won't see it on my face Watch me dancе, dance the night away (Uh-huh) I'll still keep the party runnin', not one hair out of place

March of the Jobless Corps - Daniel Kahn, Painted Bird (Jake speaks Yiddish. Jake is a union man TM. While I see and write Jake as the most observant of the system, he also loved stories of those Jewish secular socialists. Kahn and the Painted Bird represent Jake versus Grant's CEO materialism and Marc's violence.)

Well one, two, three, four Join the Marching Jobless Corps No work in the factories No more manufacturing All the tools are broke and rusted Every wheel and window busted Through the city streets we go Idle as a CEO Idle as a CEO

[Honestly, I listen to a lot of Daniel Kahn when I write Jake so just take a look at his albums and you'll get an idea]

tagged by @biitchcakes

[crestfallencrest]

if you're taking prompts from that list - "so when were you going to tell me the truth?" with whoever you want from vesperia

Prompt: "So when were you going to tell me the truth?" Pairings: Platonic Yuri & Estelle, Slight Flynn/Yuri (Like just a mention, not even enough to tag it) Genre: Angst with some comfort Warnings: Spoilers for the end of the Second Arc of the game. Word Count: 4,290

I'm always taking writing prompts! Feel free to send some or a request if none of the prompts catch your eye! Just remember that I have a right to turn it down! Summary: Estelle listens in on an argument between Yuri and Sodia and learns something that was never meant to be heard.

Notes: Sorry for the delay on this request! I originally wanted to do a oneshot surrounding Judith and Rita's relation to one another but I hadn't had the time to read deeper into it. And then I thought about Yuri and Sodia and The Great Stabbing tm and my anger about its wasted potential and, as much as I love the fics where Flynn finds out, we need more fics of the OTHER members of the crew finding out. So here we go!

===

Estellise felt like her heart could burst in excitement.  

It had been a good few months since she had last seen one of her closest friends, Yuri Lowell, in the flesh. She had written to him almost weekly, keeping him updated on her life in Halure with Rita, keeping him updated on Rita’s research (‘Rita created this weird little box that is able to warm up food that has gotten cold. It was going so well until we tried to put metal into it. That didn’t end so well’), keeping him updated on her newest book she was writing, even going so far as to give him a sneak peek from it. 

Estelle understood that Yuri was busy so he couldn’t write to her as much as she wrote to him. But she was fine with that! She understood he was busy, especially with Brave Vesperia picking up in popularity nowadays. She appreciated the few times that Yuri responded, rare as they were. She enjoyed hearing about the jobs that he and the others got, how the others were doing (Karol was almost as tall as Yuri now! She made a mental note to go visit soon! She had to see for herself!) and about how Dahngrest was doing nowadays as well. 

She treasured every letter she received from her friend, making sure to save them in a box that she kept, full of letters she had received from friends over the years. 

Despite the letters though, she hadn’t seen Yuri in a while so she was over the moon when she arrived at the castle in Zaphias and saw a familiar looking canine with sword attached to his hip that was taking a sun nap by the front gate. Upon seeing Repede, she nearly jumped for joy as she let out a joyous cry as she ran over to pet the sleeping dog. 

As usual, Repede was awake in an instant and dodged her pets with ease, once again emerging victorious in their constant game of ‘Keep away.’ (“It MUST be a game to him,” Estelle had insisted to Rita one day, back when they all traveled together.) 

She admittedly spent more time than necessary trying to catch Repede before she finally decided to leave her friend alone so he could enjoy his nap in the sun in peace. After all, there was another face she had to see as well. Judging by the open window that waited several floors up, she knew immediately where her friend was waiting. 

She wasted no time in getting there. She had to keep herself from running to Flynn’s room, forcing herself to keep a slower but steady pace as she practically sped-walked to the man’s office. She briefly wondered if she would be interrupting Yuri and Flynn catching up and was promptly reminded of the time Rita had accidentally barged in on them and…

…ahem.

Maybe she should knock first. 

She slows to a stop as she arrives in front of Flynn’s door and takes a moment to catch her breath. She, admittedly, had not been getting enough exercise lately since stopping her travels and it was showing. But as she stood there, trying to catch her breath, she stopped when she heard two voices inside of the room. One a familiar female voice and the other a familiar male voice.

Yuri and Sodia. With no Flynn to be heard. Oh dear.

She could hear their voices speaking, low and mumbled, and it was hard to hear from where she stood. But judging by the tone and just the fact that Yuri and Sodia could never be left alone in a room together without the danger of someone getting hit, whatever conversation they were having was not a friendly one. But they were normally so loud when arguing… Whatever they were discussing must be serious indeed.

…Estelle, unfortunately, couldn’t help herself. She found herself shifting closer to the door, pressing her ear against it. Part of her felt shame at her actions. After all, it was incredibly rude to eavesdrop and if she were caught, Yuri would probably never let her hear the end of it. On the other hand, if there were something wrong between the two of them (besides the usual), then she should know, right? After all, she would like to help if she could. 

“...don’t understand why he puts up with you.” Sodia’s voice is heard first, full of scorn and distaste. “You do nothing but infuriate him.”

“I dunno why you keep asking me that.” Yuri’s voice is heard soon after, low, rough and uncaring. “You keep saying that like I’m forcing him to put up with me. You should really be asking HIM this. Not cornering me so you can interrogate me. I already told you where I thought I stood. Not my fault Flynn thinks otherwise.”

“Corner you? You snuck into his room like a common criminal!” 

“I don’t blame you for turning a blind eye to this, but in case you’ve missed the memo, my preferred method of entering Flynn’s room is through that window right there. It’s a short climb, it’s fun and it always surprises Flynn. He and even some of the guards are fully aware that I do a bit of breaking and entering when I come to visit now.” Yuri’s voice begins to shift into something a bit more annoyed. 

“And I’m shocked that no one finds anything wrong with that!” Sodia’s tone is sharp as her voice begins to rise. 

“It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” 

“Now, anyway. But pardoned crimes aside, we both know what you are! A murderer!” Sodia growls out and Estelle instinctively steps back from the door. “How long until you decide that you don’t like the way that Flynn is running things?! How long until you decide to take matters into your own hands?! How long until you slip into this window and cut him down?!” 

Estelle had to stop this before it got out of hand. With a deep breath, she places her hand on the doorknob. 

“That’s really rich coming from you, of all people.” Yuri snaps back with a forced laugh as Estelle pushes the door open. “Zaude proved that you’re just as likely to try and cut someone down–”

Estelle stops.

Yuri and Sodia both stop.

For a moment, time seems to stop as Yuri and Sodia both turn and stare at their new arrival with wide eyes, akin to a deer caught in a spotlight. Of course, Estelle likely had the same expression on her face. It actually took her brain a few minutes to catch up with what was said. 

Zaude. That’s right, Zaude was where they defeated Alexei and the Adephagos was set free. That started a down-spiral of events at the time, and it didn’t give Estelle any time to properly process anything that had happened. But that was also the time that Yuri had vanished for a week. She remembered the way that Brave Vesperia and Flynn had searched everywhere for the man, but to no avail. She lost so much sleep that week that when Yuri finally did show back up, wounded and weakened, she didn’t have much energy to question what had happened as she healed up his injury for him. 

Yuri had fallen from Zaude, from what she understood. But she was missing the details. She suddenly remembers now. She remembers Flynn taking the blow for Yuri. Yuri going in for the final attack against Alexei. That giant blastia core falling from the sky, crushing Alexei. She remembered so much smoke. So much chaos but no Yuri to be seen. In the dust and debris, she found Flynn and Witcher and in her panic, she forgot that someone else had been missing.

But later, she had just assumed that she had gone to get help. 

But… But… Surely she couldn’t have… Surely Sodia wouldn’t have… 

But it was such a small wound. Deep enough to cause heavy damage but not big enough to be caused by Alexei’s blade. 

Estelle’s blank and processing expression turned to one of heavy betrayal as her eyes widened and began to tear up. “...Zaude…? It was… At Zaude, it was–” It was you? 

Sodia pales and Estelle notices her hesitation as she quietly takes a step back, confirming Estelle's suspicions. Yuri, however, takes a deep breath and takes a few steps towards Estelle, holding out a hand. “Hey… Estelle.” He calls to her, voice soft and careful but they are just enough to snap her out of her trance.

Without another word, she turns on her heels and runs.

She hears Yuri call after her but she doesn’t look back and instead tears through the halls of the castle. What was she running from? If someone were to ask her that question later, she wouldn’t be able to answer. She didn’t know. Was she running from Sodia? From Yuri? She would never imagine that the two of them would hurt her. Yuri proved to be such a valuable and trusted companion and Sodia was too loyal.

Her mind couldn’t help but linger on ‘was’. 

How could she do such a thing to Yuri? To Flynn?! And how could Yuri just keep it to himself?! Why wouldn’t he say something?!

“Estelle!”

She hears Yuri call out to her again and she realizes he’s chasing her through the halls. She tries to pick up the pace as her lungs burned and her mind screamed at her. Why are you running? Why are you running away?!

“Estelle!!” 

Where was she even going? To her room? To find Flynn? To the exit? Was she intending to run all the way to Halure? What was her plan? What good would running from Yuri do? He was fast, faster than her for sure. If he, by some miracle, didn’t catch her here, then she would have to face him eventually. Why was she even trying to avoid him?!

“ESTELLE!!!” All Estelle can see is a gray blur before a hand slams into the wall in front of her, forcing her to a stop. Before she can even think of backing away, another hand shoots out and places it on the wall on the other side of her, effectively trapping her between it and her dearest friend. 

They both are quiet, heavy breaths feeling the air as they recover from the full on sprint down the palace halls and Estelle actually has a moment to let her brain settle. It was a miracle that there hadn’t been any knights in the hallways, now that she thinks about it, because the image of Yuri chasing after her like that would have probably caused a few misunderstandings. Despite how close the man was to Flynn, he still had not gained the trust of most of the knights.

A supposed ruffian (in their eyes anyway) chasing a horrified princess would have turned some heads, for sure. 

Estelle, finally, looks up at Yuri’s face and she takes note of how flushed his cheeks were from the sudden marathon he had to take in order to catch her. A part of her assumed that the man would be angry. Angry at her eavesdropping, angry that he actually had to give chase, angry that she knew too much. But instead of the dark glare that she had seen Yuri give off in situations like these was absent and instead, she was staring up at gray eyes filled with concern and– fear…? 

She must be mistaken… right? Why would Yuri be afraid?

As they continue to stare up at each other, finally catching their breaths, Yuri slowly retracts his hands when he’s certain that Estelle wasn’t going to run off again and ducks his head slightly. He doesn’t say anything and Estelle’s mind was also going blank as well. What should she say? What could she say? Her mind alternated between shutting down and racing with a million thoughts. 

Her eyes trail down to Yuri’s left side, remembering where the wound had been inflicted. Yuri tried not to show it but she knew from the way his steps would sometimes catch and how he flinched when someone bumped into that area or hugged him a little too tightly that it still had some residual pain. Her magic was strong, this was true, but some wounds would still leave scars regardless. This wound in particular had been left alone for too long before it was properly tended to. Duke, thankfully, did a decent job of tending to Yuri’s wounds at the time but that could only do so much against the chronic pains. 

Yuri would likely live the rest of his life with this pain. It wasn’t constant but it was frequent enough that it affected the man’s daily life when it flared up. And to think that the one responsible was someone so close to Flynn… and Yuri said nothing. 

“...When were you going to tell us the truth?” She finally asks with a whisper, eyes looking up at him, absolutely heartbroken. 

Yuri breathes out a sigh, mouth shut tight as his gaze drifts down the hallway from the direction they came from. He doesn’t answer and this does nothing but cause Estelle to raise her voice. 

“Yuri, when were you going to tell us?!” She exclaims, reaching out to grasp at both of his arms. “When… When were you planning on telling Flynn?!” 

It’s been three years since Zaude. It’s been three years since they had saved the world together. For three years, Yuri has had to keep the peace with his attempted murderer and no one else knew. That fact alone causes anger to rise in her chest as she shakes the man in front of her. 

“Yuri, answer me! Why wouldn’t you tell us?!” She feels her eyes well up but she refuses to let the tears shed. 

Yuri doesn’t fight to pull out of Estelle’s grasp and lets himself be shook just a bit before he finally looks back at her, face sullen as he finally meets her gaze. “It’s not my truth to tell.” He answers as simply as possible, as if that would answer all questions.

It only causes Estelle to lash out. “Not your truth to tell?!” She steps forward, mouth agape in shock. “Yuri, you were stabbed! You could have been killed! Yuri, we could have– have–” 

Lost you. We could have lost you.

“...Estelle, listen to me.” Estelle watches as Yuri places his hands on her shoulders, gently. As she looks back up at him, she finds him staring at her with an unwavering stare full of resolve. “Who am I to you?” 

“...Wh…What?” Estelle blinks, moving to wipe at her eyes. 

“Who am I to you?” Yuri asks again, not faltering, not even once. “When you think of Yuri Lowell, what is the first thing that pops into your head?” 

“I…” Estelle trails off, unsure of what this had to do with anything but she thinks about it nonetheless. “You’re… a very kind man who… who will give anything to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You’ve… you’ve sacrificed so much to get to where you are now. You would willingly put your life on the line to protect people. Not only that, but you’re a very good friend and a valuable ally… and… and…” 

Estelle has to pause as her voice wavers and her eyes begin to billow with tears. Yuri was such an amazing person and such a key part of their group of friends and they almost lost him. “Oh, Yuri–” She chokes out, ducking her head as the tears begin to spill. 

“I think you’re giving me too much credit…” Yuri mutters quietly but he reaches out to cup her face, wiping away her tears. “C’mon… none of that. I’m not even done explaining yet… What are people going to say if they come out here and see you crying like this?” His voice is quiet and soothing as he attempts to calm her down.

“W-What does…” She stops and sniffles as she wipes at her eyes as well. “What does… that have to do with anything?” 

“Just bear with me for a second.” Yuri pauses to pull out a rap from his pocket. It was likely his rag he used to wipe at his sword but he hands it to her anyway to wipe at her face. “Now what did you think of me when you first met me?” 

“I…” Estelle tries to think back to the day she first met Yuri. A small feeling of embarrassment washes over her. Had her face not been flushed red from crying, Yuri would have likely seen the blush appear on her cheeks. “...tried to hit you with a vase. I thought you were a thief, breaking into the castle…”

“Yeah, even though I had just knocked the guards out that were attacking you.” Yuri suddenly has a slight smile on his face. “And even after you knew I was Flynn’s friend, you were still cautious and on guard. You knew Flynn said I was trustworthy but you still had to be careful, right?” 

Estelle ducks her head in shame. “I… I… don’t know what I was thinking.” 

“You were thinking the same thing that Sodia thought.” Yuri points out, squeezing her shoulder. “When Sodia looks at me, she sees a thug. A ruffian. A thief. A troublemaker. A murderer. And she’s right. I’m all of those things. I assaulted knights, I stole when I was younger in order to survive. I threw the Tweedles into a river and broke into buildings I had no business being in. Escaped from jail. And then…” His smile fades and his gaze darkens as he looks down towards his left hand. “I took multiple lives.”

Estelle shakes her head and grabs onto his left hand, squeezing it. “I’m a murderer too, Yuri! After– After Belius–” 

“Belius died. There is no taking that back, Estelle. But… it’s different.” Yuri frowns, trying to step over this topic carefully as he pulls his hand away. “You didn’t intend to kill Belius. You were intending on helping her. For me, though… Ragou, Cumore, the Don, Alexei… When I took out my blade, it was with the intent to kill. When I held the blade in my hand, it was followed with one thought in my head. ‘I am going to take this person’s life.’ I intended to follow that conviction, even if I didn’t always like the result. And I was fully prepared to face the consequences for it.” 

Estelle stays silent, eyes wide as she stares up at Yuri as he continues the explanation, eyes moving to gaze out of the window rather than at Estelle. 

“When Sodia looked at me, she saw me for what I was. A criminal. A murderer. She didn’t have any of the bias that you guys had. She hadn’t grown up with me like Flynn had. She hadn’t traveled with me for months like you guys had. She hadn’t watched me grow up in Zaphias like Leblanc did. She had no ties to me whatsoever. And all she could do was take Flynn’s words at face value.” Yuri shoves his hand into his pocket, his dark eyes scanning the sky as he speaks. 

“Flynn’s reasoning never made sense to her. Her Captain was advocating a wanted criminal by insisting that he genuinely was a good person. That the situation was misunderstood. Even after I murdered Ragou and Cumore and threatened to kill Flynn if he continued the way he was going, he still spoke highly of me.” Finally, Yuri looks back at Estelle and she feels her breath catch in her throat. “After seeing all of my crimes, you think Sodia could, in good conscience, let that go?” 

Estelle felt sick to her stomach as she listened to Yuri speak, as if he had rehearsed this over and over in his brain. Was this what he was telling himself this entire time? That he deserved it? She opened her mouth to reply but nothing came out. 

Yuri squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away. “I can’t say I agree with her reasoning completely. She did it more for Flynn’s sake than anything and afterwards, she left his side and came running to me for help, of all people. And, don’t get me wrong. This isn’t me saying that I forgive her for that stunt.” His nose wrinkles in distaste as his hand slowly moves over to cover the area where the wound was inflicted. “I’m not exactly happy that she tried to kill me and I’m definitely not happy about the chronic pain from it. But if I, a murderer and a criminal, got a pardon for my crimes but Sodia, who couldn’t even finish the damn job, was punished, then I…” 

Yuri trails off this time and Estelle notices how his face twitches as he stares down at his hands. “... It’s not what I want. A world where crimes like that can just be glossed over? I don’t want that. Even the pardon feels like a kick to the teeth. Knowing that people can go out and kill as many people as they want but can get off with a slap on the wrist, simply because they do one big good deed? I hate that.” 

Yuri falls silent after that, glaring at the ground between them. As the silence grows between them, Estelle ponders over Yuri’s words and feelings. It wasn’t often that Yuri let his true feelings show and on any other day, she would feel rather blessed that he would open up to her like this. But knowing that he had been carrying this inside of him for years caused her eyes to well up with tears, once again. 

With a tiny sniffle, she reaches out a hand and gently grasps Yuri’s before pulling it to her chest, holding it close. A few tears drop onto his skin and she made a note to apologize for crying on him later but for now, she just needed to hold onto him. To remind himself that despite it all, he was still there. He was still breathing. 

“Yuri… Everything you did was… for the good of someone else…” She sobs softly, gripping onto his hand like a lifeline. “Because of you… so many innocent people got to keep on living. Don’t you understand that?” 

“I do.” Yuri answers, voice barely a whisper. “I know, Estelle. I don’t regret killing Ragou or Cumore. I don’t regret stopping Alexei either–”

“Then stop it, okay?” Estelle’s head shoots up, cheeks tear stained and eyes red and swollen. “Just stop it. Stop holding it in. Talk to us.”

She just wanted him to stop hiding things. Stop mulling over everything alone. She wanted Yuri to reach out to someone if he began to have doubts. If he began to doubt someone’s intentions, if he felt like he had to kill again, she just wanted him to talk to someone. She wanted to make sure that the road that he carved out for himself wasn’t traveled alone. She just wanted him to understand that they were friends for a reason! 

“...I am.” Yuri says, taking the rag back and making sure to wipe at Estelle’s tears again. His hardened gaze is gone now, replaced with a soft grin as he looks down at her. “So… you can stop crying now. Your nose is running.” 

Estelle instinctively sniffles, snatching the rag from Yuri’s hand so she can blow her nose into it. Yuri gives a tiny look of disgust when she hands it back to him and she decides to take that as her tiny act of revenge against the man. 

“That’s not very princess-like…” Yuri grimaces, only to flinch when Estelle punches his shoulder. “Whoa– That’s not very princess-like either! The hell is Rita teaching you over there?!” 

“S-She’s… teaching me how to deal with people like you!” Estelle sniffles again, rubbing at her eyes. 

“I guess I deserve it.” 

“Y-You do.” Estelle manages to stop the tears but her entire face feels like a wreck. “So… so, are you going to ask me to stay quiet…?” 

Yuri just shakes his head. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. It’s your choice, not mine. If you do say anything, though, at least let me know when you do so I know when to avoid Flynn’s fist.”

“You would deserve it…” Estelle mutters, earning a weak laugh from Yuri.

“I think I should go have a talk with Rita about her influence over you. This is getting scary.” 

Estelle still wasn’t certain on whether or not she would tell Flynn about what happened. She wasn’t sure how she was going to be able to face Sodia either. She still felt uneasy and she knew that even taking the time to think through the situation would not yield any easy answers. The future was uncertain and was likely full of more hardships to come. But she had at least one victory today.

“Hey, Yuri…? You know you can talk to me, right? If something is bothering you? If something hurts you?” As she and Yuri begin to walk back to Flynn’s office, side by side, Estelle asks the question, needing confirmation from the other.

She knows that he won’t tell her everything. She knows that he’s simply just the type to hold in his troubles, for as long as he can. But even still, he smiles down at her, moving to bump his fist against her forehead. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Even if Yuri only opens up a little bit after this, as long as he knows that the option is open…

…well, that’s just fine with her.

[weathertheraine]

ship bingo: Them™ (tsukiyama) if no one asked, and if someone did, tsukihina ! 💙💙💙

They (tm) have been done hehe

Tsukihinaaa. I have honestly been thinking about them more and more lately. And they’re one where I was surprised when first getting into fandom that it wasnt more popular. They have moon/sun imagery opposites attract INCLUDING height difference!!

I havent really been reading much even tho theyve been on my mind,, but thats bc i when i picture them i almost always think about it in the context of kageyama/hinata/tsukishima/yamaguchi - all dating all the others,, so theyre both Also dating tobio and tadashi. I will have more thoughts about this whole quad soon probably but ye i dont like to split up the soulmates. I think they have a lot of potential though !! Being in denial,, fighting as a love language, figuring out affection and shoyo determinedly breaking down keis hesitancy and difficulty accepting compliments/love…

(All this can apply to them as a friendship too!!! Like. In my usual ‘canon’ i love them as best friends (they are, no matter what kei says), and all of that still applies honestly. But ye, as a ship they can be really fun. I love the idea of third-year shoyo realising that stupid-shima is actually really cute when hes all flustered and pouty,, and that making that happen is actually soooooo easy lmao

ty for the ask !! Here’s the bingo!!

[boilingrain]

Rain Draws Squirrelflight, Leafpool & Bramblestar a Few Times

Since these three won my poll on which protagonists I should draw, here they are!

They don't get as much art per character as Ashfur did, because that was one character and this is three. Trust me, this was faster and more do-able

So anyways, first up is the Squirrel herself!

I draw Squirrelpaw generally softer & bouncier looking than I draw Squirrelflight, because at this point in time she's just a kid. She has not yet witnessed the Horrors(tm)

Even when I was reading The New Prophecy for the first time as a kid, I always imagined Squirrelpaw/Squirrelflight as having little round ears. Maybe it was just the "Squirrel" prefix, but that trait has always stuck with me and I've always drawn her with small ears.

This isn't a trait unique to Squirrelflight with my designs though! In her family alone, Cloudtail, Alderheart, Lionblaze and Nutmeg also have small, rounded ears (Princess might also have them, but I haven't decided yet. I also haven't decided if any of Cloudtail or Lionblaze's kits have the rounded ears, but at least one probably does)

I wish that she had kept her telepathy thing with her sister, I honestly thought it was interesting. It's a shame that the Erins quickly ran out of uses for it and decided to pretend it never existed. This may or may not be why in my rewrite of Warriors that exists in my head (like many others in this fandom), the telepathy thing didn't stop existing as soon as it wasn't super useful the plot anymore.

Admittedly, she's always been my favorite of the cats who journeyed to the sun-drown place (though tbf, most of them didn't really get any proper development, and the other one was Brambleclaw. I do have a soft spot for Stormfur and Tawnypelt, though).

Also I... forgot to color Squirrelkit's mouth. Whoops

The lady with a somehow worse taste in men than her sister, Squirrelflight!

Please Squirrelflight, you could've done so much better than Bramblestar. You deserve so much better than Bramblestar.

That aside, Squirrelflight has been one of my favorites for a long time. I just think she's a fun and interesting character

I think I said basically all of the things I was going to say when I was talking about Squirrelpaw, tbh. Also, much like a lot of the fandom for some reason, I don't really remember much of what happened during OotS? I don't think Squilf was particularly relevant during that arc, but it's possible she was and I just genuinely do not remember.

Why is Omen of the Stars basically just a void in everyone's memory. What's going on there.

Anyways, those aren't the final designs for Lionkit, Hollykit & Jaykit in that little doodle. Those are just kind of rough concept designs for them, and when I eventually draw them they'll probably look different. Also this is tortie Hollyleaf propaganda

If Lionblaze can be golden (though I typically draw him as cream) when both of his parents are functionally black (brown = black when it comes to cats. Also Leafpool shouldn't be a brown tabby anyways, because her dad is red and her mom is cream, which is a dilute version of red. I should stop talking now, before I get too deep into rambling about cat genetics), then Hollyleaf can be a tortie. (Jayfeather's fine btw. Gray is a dilute version of black, and both of his parents carry dilute. Crowfeather from Ashfoot & Leafpool from Sandstorm)

Okay, I'll finally shut up about cat genetics now

If Squirrelstar doesn't happen, I will eat my hat. I will eat several hats.

I actually don't even know how old Squirrelflight is currently in the books. It doesn't help that the Erins are weird with ages and don't seem to know how cats work.

For my purposes, I choose to believe that the Clans have been at the lake for at least a decade, making Squilf at least 10 1/2 - 11 years old, depending on how old she was when the Clans left the forest territories. And putting her around that age would, in fact, make her a senior (for a house cat, at least. Real feral cats don't typically live that long, but tbf the clans have medicine and stuff, so their life expectancy might be longer than regular feral cats. But cats are considered seniors once they hit 10 years old)

Also all things considered, she's probably been stressed as hell for a while and experiencing the Horrors(tm). So she gets some gray on her muzzle from a combination of age and stress.

Honestly she deserves to go on a nice, relaxing vacation where she doesn't have to deal with the Erin's less than good writing choices and shitty treatment of female characters.

Anyways Squirrelstar's leader mark is her nose spot becoming star shaped, because I love it when leaders are depicted with some sort of star shaped marking. I eat it up every time.

I'll talk more about leader marks and how I do them at a later time, though.

Leafpaw! My sweet baby Leafpaw!

My version of Leafpool is big and very fluffy, and you can't stop me from drawing her that way

Right off the bat, you'll probably notice that her design has changed a bit from the original concept design that I posted, as she's now a tortie instead of a regular brown tabby. Admittedly, a big part of why she's a tortie now is that I just love torties & calicos haha

If anything, her name makes even more sense now, because the combination of brown and orange makes her look more like leaves during fall! :)

Why's Leaf a tortie but Squirrel isn't? Maybe Squirrelflight is a secret tortie, or maybe she's trans, who knows? (The actual answer is that I had already finished all the Squilf art when I randomly decided to have Leaf be a tortie, but I didn't want to go back and change Squilf's design because I love it)

I hope it's obvious that I love Leafpool a whole lot

Once again, Holly, Lion & Jay's designs in this are not their final designs and when I eventually get around to actually drawing them, they'll definitely have at least a few design changes.

Also it's really hard to draw tiny little newborn kittens on a small scale like this.

Anyways I've never actually read Leafpool's Wish, so I don't know if it proves or disproves what I'm about to say, but I think that with how much Leafpool loved her kits, I believe that she would've raised them herself if she had the ability to.

I also personally believe that if Squirrelflight hadn't decided to take in the kits, or if Leafpool had decided that she wanted to raise her kits instead of her sister doing it, Thunderclan wouldn't have done shit about it. I mean, she definitely wouldn't be as trusted as she was before, but I don't think she'd lose her job (at least at first) or be exiled. She was their only medicine cat, they literally couldn't do shit about it. Additionally, she's Firestar's daughter and also related to Sandstorm and Squirrelflight, who are both individually forces to be reckoned with.

She'd probably have to train an apprentice as soon as possible and then have to step down from her role as medicine cat, but I definitely don't think she'd be exiled or anything.

Leafpool but she sparkles

For anyone who didn't see my Ashfur post, some of the rules I have for Starclan designs is that Starclan cats are lighter in color and have sharper & more star shaped markings compared to when they were alive. They also have their appearances change over time in a way connected to their names, which is why Leafpool is starting to grow leaves out of her neck fluff.

Additionally, Starclan cats will typically have a sharper shape, to go with their sharper markings. You'll notice that while she has the sharper markings, Leafpool's fur is still soft and rounded.

I feel like Leafpool's whole thing with her trial would affect her Starclan appearance, but that's not really something that results from a trial, so her not becoming sharper in shape is the exception rather than the rule.

I didn't design a Dark Forest Leafpool, but I imagine that the changes she'd get there (because my DF cats have their appearances change based on their crimes) would be that she would still grow leaves out of her body, but she'd also grow feathers and would have particularly long and sharp claws that she wouldn't be able to sheath. Each of these things is representative of the "crime" that she was sentenced for (even though Spottedleaf, a Starclan cat, literally encouraged her to do that)

The leaves would specifically be holly leaves (representing, well... Hollyleaf), the feathers would be a mix of jay and crow (representing Jayfeather & Crowfeather) and the claws would represent Lionblaze (though for this one I went with something meant to represent his power instead of his name. With Leafpool being a medicine cat, I think it fits)

If Leafpool doesn't give Squirrelstar a life we riot

The bramble man

Honestly even as a kid Brambleclaw wasn't exactly my favorite character. I wasn't really old enough to really process how he sucks, honestly I just kind of remember thinking that he was boring. Maybe that's just the fact that I've always liked Squirrelflight & Leafpool way more than him, but I just didn't really care for his POV chapters during The New Prophecy

I did love the Hawkfrost scene, though. Because I wasn't on any warrior cats forums or anything as a kid, I didn't get spoiled about stuff like Hawkfrost's death or the Fire Scene (along with many other important scenes), so I think those scenes hit way harder for me.

When I was a kid reading Po3 for the first time, I genuinely didn't even suspect that Squirrelflight and Brambleclaw weren't Hollyleaf, Lionblaze & Jayfeather's biological parents. So you can probably imagine how shocked little elementary school me was

But anyways, yeah. While I didn't hate Brambleclaw as a kid, I just didn't really care about him.

On another note, my Brambleclaw/star design is pretty similar in shape to my Lionheart design (just with extra toes and not as big of a mane). Since Lionheart was Goldenflower's brother, I thought it would be interesting if while everyone else just saw Tigerclawstar in Bramble's appearance, Goldenflower didn't.

My Tawnypelt design has a more similar shape to Tigerclawstar, though.

Bramblestar!

Leader marks are usually an already existing marking that becomes star shaped (like how I made Squirrelstar's nose spot star shaped), but sometimes a new marking entirely will appear as the leader mark.

While I easily could've made one of the spots on the backs of his ears into a star shaped for his leader mark, I have plans relating to Bramblefake/The Imposter and Bramblestar's mark.

You'll see said plans in a moment, but what I will mention about it is that my Ashfur design has a broken heart shaped marking on his chest.

On an unrelated note, Bramblestar should have someone else name warriors for him because great Starclan is he bad at names.

There's totally nothing wrong with Bramblestar, what possibly could've made you think that

Anyways, a combination of the whole being possessed thing & Ashfur's broken heart marking have caused Bramblestar's leader mark to "break". It actually doesn't get fixed after he's no longer possessed, his leader mark stays that way.

The Imposter's fur is darker and droopier than regular Brambkestar. I don't have a real reason for the darker color (other than that it looks cool), but the fur is Ashfur's doing.

Another thing that is Ashfur's doing is the blue pupils. Bramblestar is supposed to have red pupils (due to him training in the Dark Forest in TNP), but being possessed kind of overrides that and so The Imposter's pupils are blue. They do turn red again after Bramblestar is no longer possessed, though.

Honestly, I still kind of wish that the theory that Bramblestar had rabies was canon. The possession was interesting, but I don't think rabies has even been mentioned in the series. Which is a bit surprising considering that it's basically a soap opera with cats, but then again the Erins sure do love taking the opportunity to ignore possible interesting new plots. Why do anything interesting when we could instead have a billion more badly written romances

But I will admit, it was interesting to have Ashfur come back to be awful again. I'm still mad that he got let into Starclan after trying to kill at least 4 people because he "loved too much" and that gave him more of an opportunity to pull this shit. They absolutely butchered Yellowfang after she died. Not really even recognizable as the same character as her living self.

I'm not doing more art for this post. I'm tired and I'm going to go get some sleep. Tomorrow I will get back to work on hypokit requests, but for now it is time to put away my art supplies and lay in bed.

[redwayfarers]

1 and 4 for the supporting character asks! For nika and cass please :>

i was just doing these exact questions for my other blog but blorboys will have diff response <3 (and funnily enough, i did them for an oc who's like a spiritual father to both nika and cass)

q1. Someone my muse met only briefly, but who impacted their life

cass: probably a wayfarer, who probably died at the spire. his pre-fall memories aren't something he harkens back to at all; in fact, he refuses to say the names of the friends he lost to the mob that burned his home down, out of fear that it'll trigger the pain and the grief all over again. maybe it was someone who was kind to him for the first time, someone who helped him when all he expected was shunning and isolation. maybe it was a simple, passing gesture, a kind word. but he forgets their face or their name, because, well, they're probably dead.

nika: silvairre, for that sweet, sweet elezen men bi awakening :>

4. Someone my muse likes, who doesn’t like them back quite as much

cass: funnily enough, malsara. he finds nova extremely annoying, but he feels like him and malsara can have a working relationship - and he is very grateful she saved his life in the aeranmance route, and is more than a little fascinated by the erebian league and its practices of not having the same close-minded beliefs about touching magiani as the guild of mages does. however, i don't think malsara quite likes his tendency to make fun of everything under the sun.

nika: rostnsthal! he rather likes the guy, but as soon as he figured out how guns work, he started behaving like the Most Marksman of All Time TM (because he does have a very good aim + he was an archer before) so that got to rostnthal's nerves pretty quickly. that's not to say he hates nika, but just... is (fondly) annoyed with him half the time.