#runar

[clawheld]

Hrothgar players when they get to Shadowbringers

[koko2unite]

October poll is up!! help me pick who to draw naughtily this month!

[1driedpersimmon]

.

Interesting developments are happening….

[tenrispoplar]

Got some oc troll sketches that I quite like

Mirkvi, the one only known as the Old one or Olde and then Runar, Gunmar's hybrid son

[gachacatt]

I just think runar would be the supervisor at parties, he's a good hrothgar like that

[secretwhumplair]

Return

973 words | No Warrior (sequel to Passing winter)

Content | Referenced past trauma

Notes | Big decisions are made!

This is the end of the story, however, unlike with The monster of Lindborough, there are still a bunch of gaps I want to fill sometime :)

For now, this is it, though. I hope you like it! Friendly reminder I have a ko-fi, otherwise I'm also always happy to read you comments even if I'm bad at responding dfjkdkgjh <3

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight

@whumpzone @angel-stars​​ @kixngiggles @whumpsy-daisies @yet-another-heathen

@rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods @pleasancies @much-ado-about-whumping

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em @itsleighlove @newbornwhumperfly @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady @everynameistakencarrots @scoundrelwithboba

»I want to go with you.«

This time, it was different. Everything was different, so much so Yves found it jarring he used the same words.

Runar had been right not to let him come last year, of course, he understood that with perfect clarity now; in truth, he had probably understood it then. But when last year, he had been fueled by fear — fear of what would become of him without Runar’s protection and care — as much as what little spark remained of his desire to fight for his people, now?

Now, everything was different.

Runar looked at him for a long moment. They were up at the cliffs, watching the sun set over the seas Runar would sail across soon.

He didn’t need Runar’s permission, really. He almost didn’t feel he did — he simply had to prove his valour like all who joined the warriors. But it seemed courteous to tell his lover first. They had been together — a couple — for months now.

»You’ll have to prove yourself,« Runar finally said, and Yves’ heart hopped at the way he didn’t argue.

»I know.« He smiled up at Runar, squeezed his hand.

»You’re sure, aren’t you?«

Yves nodded, his smile fading. This was a serious decision, and he couldn’t fault Runar for double-checking.

But to his surprise, after a moment, Runar started to grin. »It’s not fair to say I told you so, is it?«

»Heart of a warrior?« He had told him so. And Yves couldn’t believe it, not then. But perhaps it had been true all along.

He grinned back.

* All young folk who wanted to join the warriors had to pass a test of skill — they had to face one of the proper warriors in a fight, one on one. They didn’t have to win, strictly speaking. But all, and their opponent foremost, would judge if they could hold their own. It was a show the whole village came to watch.

It was agreed upon that there was no way Runar would be the one testing Yves. Yves agreed.

And yet Runar couldn’t help but wish it was him when he watched Signy approach him with that mad grin of hers. Some might argue she, too, was too biased in favour of the little thing, but from the way she pranced across the trodden-down grass within the marked circle, Runar had no doubt she wouldn’t be holding back.

Yet Runar knew these very thoughts were what made him so unsuitable. He could only watch, and hope Yves could handle himself as well as his sword.

It lightened his heart a little to hear the cheers from the crowd, as enthusiastic for Yves as for any of the younger kids born and raised here. Truly, this place had become Yves’ home, and even if he was found unfit to be a warrior — yet — he had a whole life ahead of him here.

Runar breathlessly watched the dull practice swords flash and clang, watched the swift steps of the pair on grass. He had watched Yves during his training a few times, and he knew how nimble he had become; he dodged and twisted, let Signy’s sword run off his like water, boldly shot forward like a little wasp.

Yet, Signy caught him on the thigh. It was a sharp hit, and Runar knew it must have hurt. He barely noticed himself jumping to his feet.

Yves scrambled out of the way; Runar couldn’t see his face, and he was desperate to know if he was overcome with the old fear, overwhelmed with memories-

Then Yves dashed forward, diving under Signy’s sword, and nearly got her back before she slid aside, experience and strength on her side. Runar shouted along with the cheers rising from the crowd.

It wasn’t much longer before Signy ended the fight, throwing an arm around Yves shoulder. »Yves!« she shouted, and the crowd picked up the shout, and Runar thought his heart would burst with pride, and with the wild happiness on Yves’ face.

* Yves felt his heart tremble — not with fear, not only — as the ship set sail, carrying him back.

He would go back.

With the sword waiting for him in the deckhouse.

For the moment, once the coast had disappeared from view and the last waves goodbye had been exchanged, there was nothing much to do. They were sailing before a favourable wind, and the new trainees weren’t on the first shift, so they could have a moment to smell the air and get a grip on the excitement fluttering in their hearts. Yves wasn’t much different… and yet, wholly.

He went to stand by the bow. The place brought back memories. Here he had cowered, a year and a half ago, desperate for a mercy he didn’t believe in.

Now, though, he got to look out across the waves the ship cut through under the expert guidance of the sailors, and smile when Runar took his hand.

»Are you alright?«

»Yes.« He watched the water, squeezing Runar’s hand. »It’s… I don’t know how… what it will be like. Over there.«

Runar hummed his compassion. »Whatever happens,« he said quietly, »I’ve got you. We’ve got you.«

»I know.« He leant against Runar. It was true.

The weeks at sea passed uneventfully; once the ship was becalmed for a few days, but not so long as to threaten their provisions; Brandr had taken to ignoring Yves wholly.

But eventually, a faint coastline appeared on the horizon.

The warriors not immediately occupied in guiding the ship towards a quiet beach where they could resupply, and start scouting, grabbed their gear.

Yves stood by the bow, between Signy and Runar, watching the land he had left behind become clearer.

His hand closed around the hilt of the sword Björn had made for him.

He was ready.

[eukrasiancrisis]

Elftober #24: Keepsake

- You have my thanks, friend. Without your help I might very well have been lying in its place. I thank the sunless sea that it will feed my brethren instead.

- Pray allow me to return the favor! If you help me carry it back to the fort, I will make you a stew you will remember for the rest of your days!

- You owe me nothing. I was simply passing by. And your brothers will be here soon to help, so I will take my leave of you.

- Wait! That stone you wear around your neck...

...That is an amethyst heartstone, is it not?

- ... - ...Who are you, friend? I have never seen your face in these woods, yet your companions seem familiar with my scent. You are no Blessed, yet you wear our colors and your heartstone is cut in the same form as my fa-

- It's you... You're that boy!

- I'm sorry. - A Blessed leader gave you that heartstone, did he not?? You were the boy my father sheltered from the Children all those years ago!

- I'm so sorry. - The boy he died protecting when they came!

- There was nothing I could do, Runar- - You lived!

- But I swore an oath since to watch over you and the Blessed and on your father's heartstone I will never break it. - We'd feared the Children had taken you, or worse! - You... harbor no contempt for me? - Contempt?! Bwahah!

- Do you think I hold such little regard for my father's decisions? He took you in as one of us, and chose to defend you like he would any son of his! How could I ever see you as anything but a brother?

- Watch over us if you must, but pray do it not out of remorse, but out of kinship.

[sabiartrin]

Triumph of the unconscious

You can check the full version on my Twitter (link in bio)

[looking-for-lost-stars]

"Please don’t ask me about my parents" to Boe, (@dissatisfieddov)

Please Don’t Starters:

@dissatisfieddov

Boe immediately felt guilty, they should know better, they don't want to talk about their own parents... Or particularly their father. They look down at their feet "I-I-I'm sorry."

[chibubird]

bisexuality is stored in the kitty cats

[secret-sageent]

FYM AVERAGE POST????????

Runar

My dear mutual

My fond friend

My fellow sufferer on this hellscape we call Earth

You are CONSTANTLY going through all nine circles of hell at once, or so it seems from going through your blog

This is nothing new

[ffxivsnickerdoodlecookie]

runar emote i made for my twitch

[1driedpersimmon]

Wide variety, doodles, paintings, spicy… heheh

[rizzyun]

I will not hold back~

Yshtola by me, WoL by @rachasakawa, @/ibraim.elias, Photo by @ronaldoichi

[do-you-know-this-cat]

Do You Know This Cat?

[secretwhumplair]

Solstice, p.1

1,494 words | No Warrior (sequel to Solstice, p.0)

Content | Idk what to put. Dealing with past trauma, perceived betrayal?

Notes | Well that went well! Until it didn't.

Excited to get back to this story and give it its long-awaited finish! We're not there yet. But I am full of optimism.

Taglist | @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi​​ @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​​ @whump-me-all-night-long​​​​ @whumpadump1939​​ @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight​​

@whumpzone​​ @angel-stars @kixngiggles​ @whumpsy-daisies​​ @briars7

@yet-another-heathen​​ @rosesareviolentlyread @cupcakes-and-pain @hollowtreesinhollowwoods​​​​ @much-ado-about-whumping​​

@nine-tailed-whump​​ @whump-em​​​ @itsleighlove​​ @newbornwhumperfly​​​ @tears-and-lilies

@deluxewhump @whump-cravings @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning @neverthelass

@whumpsday @silent-orchid-lady

Runar felt bad for not offering Yves the option to stay at home with him. But it was the solstice festival, and—no matter how callous and selfish it felt in the moment—he couldn’t put every part of his life on hold for him.

It was, therefore, doubly relieving that Yves seemed to be okay. He kept close to Runar’s side as they made their way to the hilltop where wood had been stacked up twice as tall as Runar was, the yet unlit pile silhouetted against the dusky sky, but that might have been due to how narrow the paths through the snow were—more had fallen just this morning.

It was about time for winter to begin its slow retreat, and Yves seemed to welcome it as much as anyone. There was a shadow of a smile on his face, even.

Runar was irrationally proud of how brave he was being. »I’ll go say hi to my family, and then we can check out the food, yes?«

Yves nodded timidly. They hadn’t had lunch yet; after all, the potluck feast would begin as soon as the bonfire was lit once dark had fallen, which would be soon, and last as long as anyone could still eat. Runar had offered Yves to snack with him, of course, knowing how starved he had been when he first found him, and not wanting to stir up dark memories. But Yves, after hearing his explanation, had declined, had wanted to wait for the feast with him. That, too, Runar was proud of for him.

They trudged their way up the hill, and Runar could feel his mood rise along with their path.

It was going to be good.

* The stars were coming out, and Yves felt nervous to the bone.

Nervous enough to trail closely after Runar, no matter how pathetic it felt, no matter how much it stirred the bitter, helpless anger seething inside him all the time now. It ebbed and flowed—his sword practice, as silly as it was, seemed to help, but then there were moments like this, when his anxiety peaked for no real reason and there was nothing he could do, and it felt so deeply unfair. He wasn’t even properly scared—he knew nothing bad would happen to him, and somehow that made it worse. If his nerves could at least save themselves for actual threats—they should have enough experience with them to know the difference.

Still, Runar’s company comforted him, and the joy he and his family shared rubbed off. When Ingunn smiled at him, he found it easy to smile back.

»Yves! Glad you came too, it’s a big day!«

»Yes… I’m glad too.« And it was true. The air was filled with cheer and excited chattering, even among the cloudy wisps spewed forth by every breath. Soon, the warmth would come—first from the fire, and then, eventually, from the sun.

It was an important event.

Watching the crowd made him feel better as they gathered around long tables set up around the fire, some already taking their seats, but most standing and occupied in various tasks, or simply commenting on the stake and the food the tables were laden with, even as families were still carrying up more filled pots and plates.

No one would go hungry tonight, that much was certain.

Even actually spotting Brandr, who stood with two other warriors near the stake and seemed to be engrossed in discussing the quality of the wood or some such thing by the way he gestured aggressively at one log or another, couldn’t fully dispel the warmth of the occasion.

If Brandr confronted him again, this time, Yves would stand his ground. Or so he told himself, even as his heart beat faster at the thought.

He balled a gloved hand. No, he would. He wouldn’t let anyone take this from him, not when Runar’s family was so welcoming. They wanted him to enjoy the night, and he did too.

Dusk crept by slowly, the rising darkness dispelled only by their cheerful voices, but they became quieter and quieter, until darkness and silence were complete.

That was when the eldest lit a torch, its brightness momentarily burning in Yves’ eyes. Everyone watched, rapt, as she approached the wood and with one decisive strike pushed the torch into it.

The center, carefully constructed from dried leaves and twigs, caught fire at once, and cheers erupted from the crowd. Runar joined in, and Yves, too, though his voice was still drowned out.

The flames licked at the larger wood pieces, climbing up and up, until the bonfire reached high into the night sky. The light and the warmth lifted Yves’ heart. Maybe it was all going to be alright. Maybe the darkest days were truly gone now.

Once the cheering was done, the feasting began. After that, it wasn’t long before musicians picked up their instruments, and many voices joined in songs that must be long familiar to the community. Even Yves had heard some of them before by now, though his voice stayed quieter than the rest. Soon people were dancing, and Runar, after checking in with Yves once more, like he always did, like he never abandoned him without notice, jumped into it too.

Yves was undecided, and even that seemed big. He hadn’t danced in—a long time. It seemed fun. He didn’t know the local dances yet, though, and in truth, he felt a little out of place. So he simply sat and watched.

After a while, Signy fell into the now vacated stool opposite Yves, laughing, one of her spouses on each arm. Her wife let go of her and chattered something about getting some of the fish that was being roasted over the other side of the bonfire before she disappeared. Signy noticed Yves sitting opposite her, and gave him a wide grin. Her face was heated, not just from dancing, but her demeanour was, if anything, more jolly than usual. »Yves! How’re you holding up? Having a good time?«

Yves nodded, smiling without effort. He was having a good time. He was having something close to fun, just like he had wanted. He was still a little nervous, yes, but the all-around cheer of the event was rubbing off on him, and he wasn’t feeling unsafe.

»That’s good! That’s good.« Signy’s grin turned into a warmer, deeper smile for a moment, then she focused on her husband again, so intensely Yves looked away, heat creeping into his own face.

Signy’s wife returned to release him from the awkwardness of the moment—or make it worse, who knew—carrying a plate of freshly grilled fish, which she sat down before Signy, in the middle of the three of them.

»Thanks, s͏w̧e҉e͟t̸ḩe̵àr̀t͢« Signy said and kissed her wife’s mouth. When, turning back to the table, she noticed Yves staring at her, she just gave an enthusiastic little wave with her knife before she tucked into the fish.

Yves, though, sat frozen with realization, unable to avert his eyes from her and her—her wife. Her lover.

Her sweetheart.

Each breath caught in his throat. Was that how Runar saw him—what he expected of him?

Since when had he been calling Yves that? He couldn’t be sure, not with the way his mind raced, but it seemed to him it had been since ever. Since the very start?

Was that the reason he had rescued Yves?

Had all his kindness been a ploy to get Yves to-? The thought was terrifying. But why bother? He could easily overpower Yves.

What did he really want? And why hadn’t he been honest about it?

Yves’ head was reeling, and he dug his nails into the stool he was sitting on, desperate to find a grasp on reality.

»Yves?« Runar.

Yves couldn’t answer, or even look at him. He just stared down at the plate in front of him, trying to figure out what this was, even what feeling it was that was rushing through his heart, fear with flashes of fury.

»Are you okay?«

»No.« The word plopped out of his mouth before he could stop himself, and a spike of panic shot through him. He pushed himself up forcefully, still without looking at Runar. »I’m. Going home.«

»Yves… ?« But Runar didn’t move to stop him, and a word was not enough to, not anymore. There was a bitter triumph in it.

As he walked off into the night, he could hear Runar ask Signy and her companions what had happened, heard Signy’s full-mouthed, »No idea.«

It angered him more. How could they be so oblivious?

It was unfair—how would they know?—but everything was unfair, anyway; why should it only be unfair to him? The darkness swallowed him, the light of the bonfire only faint reflections on the snow as he escaped.

Home, he had said, and he almost regretted it.