#this was so fun to write thank you for indulging me

[floodonthefloor]

pedestals just become babys first fic to hit over 2k kudos!!

vanity metrics are just vanity metrics etc but its nice for my closeted 17 year old kid self writing lesbian fanfiction in secret - like literally i was so scared someone would find it that i wouldn't ever write it in a saveable document and write it directly in the ffnet/ao3 box like an absolute fucking menace... (yes it caused catastrophes for me. no i did not learn from my mistakes)

idk. lots of mento health problems up in here- some of u have asked how it is i write so fast and it's because i literally. need to be writing something at all times or thinking about writing at all times bc - without getting too specific- i get super self-destructive when i can't write (again i dont like getting personal on here but sometimes the moment calls for it and im feeling yappy and self-indulgent okay) and my irl creative endeavour/hobby has been facing loads of creative blocks/challenges...being able to channel it into something like fanfiction has been really healing. a lifeline of sorts, as dramatic as that may seem. even if fanfiction isnt 'taken seriously' it still matters to me and i think it matters to a few of u too?

i dont fool myself into thinking that having a bunch of kudos and tumblr followers all having lots of fun with it makes me the next great literary mind but knowing that so many people have read it an enjoyed it enough to toss that little kudos button click on there PLUS do something as BATSHIT INSANE AMAZING as make FANART is very affirming for me so thank you :) fotf bookclub friends forever

idk if i have any stories i want to pick up post-pedestal or eoyo but there are a few ideas percolating and i certainly don't think i'll be leaving it behind anytime soon if only because you guys are so much fun and such a welcoming community that has made me feel so much less alone!!! i love u all x sam/flood

[shineon3]

hii hope you will feel better soon ❤️❤️

maxiel and cuddles?

(some more thoughts, but don't feel obligated to use it: max or daniel feels under the weather and the other stays in bed with them. the cats come cuddle too)

thank you for the prompt, lovely ❤️ this one took some time, but that's cuz my brain decided i should write it in the 'and i just want to take you home' verse for some reason, but it was still fun!!

When Daniel walks into the living room, he expects at least one of the cats to greet him, as they usually do.

But he walks in, and he’s hit with how quiet the house is, which is very much odd.

He’s used to how lively the farm had become, these past months, what with Max sim racing so loudly you could hear him through the whole place, and Jimmy and Sassy constantly running around. 

“Maxy?” Daniel walks in the kitchen, taking the time to put the ice cream tubs he had just bought into the freezer before calling out again. “Max, baby, where are you?”

He’s on his way to the cats’ playroom when he almost trips, holding onto the wall for support. 

“Sassy? What are you doing here, princess?” 

His little lady looks up at him from where she’s sprawled in the middle of the hallway, blinking slowly. She gets up, swift and gracious, bumping her little head against his ankle before walking away. Daniel watches, confused. Sassy comes back, this time headbutting the back of his feet, as if urging him to move. She darts away when he leans down to pick her up, and he shrugs, deciding to indulge her. Sassy walks by his side, turning around from time to time, as if to make sure Daniel was still following her, until they make it to the bedroom. The door isn’t fully shut, and Sassy just pushes it open before looking up expectantly at Daniel. 

“Now you want me to pick you up, eh? We’re spoiling you too much, I swear.”

He shakes his head, scooping up the cat in his arms. She immediately makes herself comfortable, curling up in Daniel’s arms and purring softly when he scratches between her ears. He finally steps into the bedroom, curious about what Sassy was trying to show him. 

It’s Max. 

Max, curled up on their bed, clutching a pillow in his arms and shaking slightly, Jimmy curled up right next to his head like a little comma on the pillow. Daniel presses a kiss to Sassy’s head, silently thanking her, and makes his way to the bed. He gives Jimmy a kiss as well before setting Sassy down next to him.

He takes off his sweaty clothes, throwing them into a corner of the room for future Daniel to deal with, and climbs in bed, laying down on his side behind Max. 

“I’m here now, Maxy.”

The blonde makes a soft, barely audible noise, shuffling back to snuggle against him, and Daniel wraps his arms around his boyfriend, pressing a kiss to his temple. He can hear both Jimmy and Sassy purring, a gentle, relaxing sound in the background. He traces random shapes and patterns on Max’s stomach, tension seeping out of him when he feels Max slowly stop shivering. 

“We’re all here for you, darling.”

[earthlybeam]

Can you please write about elves with a huntress/hunter reader who lives deep in the forest, doesn't have many manners or anything fancy like the elves, and is not used to eating healthily or consuming less meat. The reader hunts for themselves, bringing hunted animals to the elves as trophies, thinking the elves will appreciate them. Include Thranduil, Elrond, Legolas, and Celeborn. Have a good day/night. Thanks for your beautiful writing. I very rarely see person who writes so thoughtfully and poetically and even more rarely I see writer who writes for Lotr elves.☕

Aww, thank you so much for your kind words! That really means a lot to me. I’m so glad you enjoy the writing, and it’s so wonderful to hear that you’re excited for a LotR story with the elves. I’d love to write something like this! It’d be so fun to explore the contrast between the elves’ elegant, peaceful way of life and her wild, free-spirited ways!

Thranduil, Elrond, Legolas, Celeborn version below.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

The ancient trees loomed overhead, casting long shadows over the forest floor. The sound of footsteps was muffled by the thick carpet of leaves and moss, as you, a solitary hunter, moved through the woods with practiced ease. Your home was far from the opulent halls of the Elves, nestled deep within the heart of the forest in a humble, weathered hut. A place where the air was filled with the scent of earth, damp leaves, and the unmistakable musk of the animals you hunted.

You lived by the bow, your hands used to the rough texture of your weapon and the weight of your quiver. You were accustomed to taking life, a necessity in your world. Every day, you hunted to survive, bringing back the fruits of your labor: deer, boar, and the occasional stag. The larger the prey, the more satisfying the hunt. And every time you brought down one of Mirkwood’s majestic creatures, you carried it proudly to the elves, thinking they would appreciate your skills.

But your ways were far removed from theirs. The elves, particularly their King, Thranduil, with their ethereal grace and reverence for the land, were hunters too—but not in the same way. For them, nature was a delicate balance, something to be revered and preserved. The fruits of the forest—herbs, berries, and nuts—were their preferred sustenance. Meat, especially the meat of an animal as noble as the stag, was a rarity, an occasional indulgence, and only consumed on special occasions.

As you approached the palace, the soft hum of voices reached your ears, growing louder with each step. The grand, gleaming structures of the elf kingdom were unlike anything you’d ever seen. Towers crafted from living wood, leaves and branches intertwining in delicate patterns. Their halls sparkled with a natural light, the air fragrant with the scent of flowers and herbs. It was a stark contrast to your rough, simple existence.

You approached Thranduil’s court, carrying the large stag draped over your shoulders. Its massive antlers gleamed in the pale sunlight, a prize you had taken down after hours of tracking. It was an impressive kill, something that would have earned you admiration from any other hunter in the land—but here, in the realm of the elves, you felt a momentary twinge of uncertainty. You knew little about their customs, only that they were not like you. Still, you hoped your offering would be appreciated, even if it was an act foreign to their way of life.

Thranduil stood at the center of the hall, his long, platinum blonde hair flowing around his shoulders like a cascade of moonlight. His piercing eyes caught sight of you as you entered, and he raised an eyebrow, his gaze flickering to the stag you had placed before him. His lips pressed into a thin line. The room seemed to grow quiet as the tension between the two of you thickened. Thranduil’s expression was unreadable at first, but beneath the calm exterior, there was a flicker of something darker. A flash of disapproval. “You bring this to my halls?” Thranduil’s voice was low, cool, and dangerous. It was not a question, but an accusation.

You stood tall, your back straight, meeting his gaze with a defiant stare. “Yes, my king,” you replied, your voice unwavering. “It is the prize of my hunt. I thought you would find it worthy.” The elves around you exchanged uneasy glances, their faces pale, as though the sight of the stag made them uneasy, or worse, repulsed. They were not accustomed to such offerings, not when the creatures of the forest could be more than just food—they were sacred, revered, and treated with reverence.

Thranduil stepped forward, his long fingers brushing the surface of the stag’s fur. His face was unreadable, but his eyes betrayed a sharp edge of anger. “This creature is sacred to the forest,” he said softly, though his words carried the weight of authority. “You kill it as though it is nothing more than a trophy, a mere object to boast about.”

You flinched slightly at the accusation, though you didn’t let your face betray the hurt. To you, hunting was survival. You had learned the ways of the forest long ago. The act of taking down a majestic creature was an honor, a way to prove your skill, your connection to the wild. But here, before the elves, it felt like you were standing before a different world—a world where your ways were misunderstood, seen as crude, primitive. “I did not bring it to boast, Thranduil,” you said, your voice steady. “I brought it as a gift, as a show of respect. I thought you would appreciate it.”

Thranduil’s gaze hardened. “You do not understand,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Meat is a luxury, not a necessity. We do not kill for sport or to collect trophies.” The weight of his words hit you like a cold wind. You had never considered that. In your world, meat was survival. It was the blood and flesh of the forest, the very lifeblood of your existence. But to him, it was something entirely different—something sacred, something meant to be treated with reverence.

“You are wrong,” Thranduil continued, his voice colder now. “You think you understand the forest, but you only take from it without understanding its true essence. It is not for you to decide when to take its life.” A long silence stretched between you, filled only by the distant rustling of leaves outside. You stood your ground, but inside, there was a twinge of guilt, a sense of wrongness in the air. “You would do well to remember the balance,” Thranduil said finally, his voice softening just slightly. “We take only what we need. And even then, we offer thanks.”

You nodded stiffly, the weight of your misunderstanding sinking in. You had acted with pride, but now, in the face of Thranduil’s quiet but unyielding authority, you realized how little you knew of their ways. “Will you still accept it?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper. Thranduil’s gaze softened for a moment, and with a small sigh, he nodded. “We will take it, but not for the reasons you think. It will be given back to the forest in due time, as a gift, a reminder of the sacrifice that was made.”

You bowed your head, feeling a strange mix of embarrassment and understanding. This was not your world, not your way. You had hoped to show your strength, but instead, you had revealed your ignorance. The stag was not your trophy to keep. It was a gift, a gesture of respect to a land that gave life in its own way. A lesson, you thought, as Thranduil turned away to oversee the ceremony. A lesson that the true hunt, the real strength, came not from what you could take, but from what you could give back to the land that had nurtured you.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

In the heart of the forest, where the trees whispered ancient secrets and the earth was as familiar to you as your own skin, you lived a life of solitude. Your hut, constructed from fallen branches and thick moss, nestled between towering oaks and pines. The scent of the woods—the rich, earthy aroma of damp soil and fresh leaves—was all you knew. It was a simple existence, far removed from the grand halls of the elves, their elegant cities, and their refined customs.

You were a hunter, and the forest was your home. Each day, you ventured deep into the wilds, tracking animals, listening for the quiet stirrings of life in the underbrush. The hunt was a ritual of survival, not sport. You didn’t adorn your weapons with ornaments, nor did you care for any formalities. The kill was necessary. The meat was sustenance, and that was all that mattered. There was no delicacy, no finesse—just you, the trees, and the game.

The offering you had prepared for Rivendell was one of your best. A wild boar, thick and heavy, its tusks sharp and gleaming in the fading sunlight, accompanied by a deer and several rabbits. You’d taken them down swiftly and cleanly, knowing the importance of not wasting a single part. The weight of the kills pressed on your shoulders as you trudged toward the gates of Rivendell, your heart steady in the way of those who walk alone in the wild.

You had done this before, bringing your trophies to the elves, convinced they would appreciate your skill and the quality of the game. You knew they were a proud people, wise in their ways, and surely they would recognize your strength and hunting prowess. They might even accept your offering in the same way you had seen in the few exchanges you’d had with their kind—silent nods, polite words—but no real connection. They lived differently, you knew that, but what did it matter? The hunt was sacred to you, and you were proud to share it with them.

As you neared the gates, Elrond stood waiting, his long, graceful form silhouetted against the shimmering light of Rivendell’s halls. His piercing gaze studied you, the hunter—you, with your rough-hewn clothes and the scent of blood and the wilds clinging to your skin. To him, you were both a mystery and a reminder of a world far removed from the delicacy and reverence of elvish life.

You didn’t acknowledge the way his eyes lingered on you, nor the subtle tension in the air that always followed your arrivals. You didn’t care for the elves’ highborn ways, the long meals full of laughter and elegant conversation that felt foreign and strange to you. You dropped the boar and the deer at his feet without ceremony, your shoulders straight and proud. “I’ve brought you game,” you said simply, your voice rough, shaped by years of isolation.

Elrond, ever the picture of grace, gave a slight bow of his head but did not immediately reach for the animals. He let the silence stretch between you, studying the offerings with a quiet, thoughtful gaze. His eyes flicked from the boar to the deer and then to you. There was no anger, no judgment, but a certain sadness that lingered behind his usually calm demeanor.

“Your skill is evident, hunter,” Elrond spoke at last, his voice rich with centuries of knowledge. “But I must admit, I wonder if you understand what you offer.” You blinked, a twinge of confusion tugging at your brow. “I offer what I know best. The hunt. The land provides—does it not?” Elrond sighed, a sound full of ancient weariness. He could see the pride in your eyes, the simple belief that this was the way of things. “The land provides, yes. But the elves of Rivendell… we do not take what we do not need. Our ways are not like yours.”

You frowned, your confusion deepening. “I bring this because I thought you would appreciate it,” you said, your voice hardening a little. “I thought this was what you wanted. It’s a strong kill, a good offering.” Elrond’s gaze softened, though his face remained solemn. “You misunderstand. What we take from the land, we take with reverence. We do not live in the same way as you, hunter. Our bond with the land is one of balance, not conquest. We forage the fruits of the earth, gather herbs, and celebrate the cycles of life. Meat, to us, is rare—only taken when necessary, and even then, it is with the utmost respect for the creature that gave its life.”

His words sank into your chest like a stone, the weight of them pressing down on your hardened heart. You didn’t know how to respond. The idea of restraint, of living without the constant hunt for survival, felt alien to you. You had always lived by the rhythm of the forest, where the strong survived and the weak fell. The concept of eating without bloodshed felt like a betrayal of the land itself. How could you understand this way of life?

“But…” you started, your voice catching, “I live by the hunt. The game provides. Without it, I cannot survive.” Elrond nodded slowly, his eyes not filled with judgment, but with understanding. “I do not question your way of life, hunter. You are a product of your surroundings. But here, we live differently, and we ask for understanding of that. You do not need to offer these gifts of blood to prove your strength. You are more than that.”

You stood silently, unsure of what to say. The weight of the meat at your feet seemed heavier now, the sight of it almost shameful in the quiet, peaceful world of Rivendell. You had never known anything else, and yet here, in this foreign place, you realized how little you understood about the delicate dance between life and death that the elves lived by.

“I did not mean to offend,” you said at last, your voice quieter now, a crack in your usual boldness. “I thought you would appreciate it. I thought it was the right thing to do.” Elrond’s gaze softened even more. “You did what you thought was right. There is no shame in that. But you must understand, hunter, there is more than one way to live, and in time, perhaps you will see the beauty in the balance that sustains us all.”

You didn’t know if you would ever truly understand, but something about the way Elrond spoke—the calm authority in his voice—made you feel like you had taken the first step toward something new. It wasn’t the hunter’s path you had always known, but it was something worth considering.

🍃𝓛𝓮𝓰𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓼

You live deep in the heart of the forest, away from the shining halls of the elves and their highborn customs. Your home is a humble hut, tucked away in a glade surrounded by ancient trees, their gnarled roots and thick canopies offering both shelter and solitude. The world outside is one of dirt and sweat, where each day is spent tracking, hunting, and surviving. It’s not an easy life, but it’s one you know well. Your skills with the bow are honed through necessity, not ceremony. When you hunt, it’s for sustenance, and the meat you bring back feeds you through the long nights and hard winters.

To you, the forests and creatures are just another part of the world, as much a part of your survival as the air you breathe. Each animal you hunt is treated with a hunter’s respect, and the trophies you bring back — antlers, pelts, and sometimes the rawness of the kill itself — are meant to be admired for their strength and beauty. You don’t see any reason to hide the rough edges of your life. After all, it is life. It’s survival.

But the elves… they live by different rules, different standards. Legolas is a prince, raised among the elegance of Mirkwood’s halls. His world is one of grace, where nature is admired with reverence and balance is key. The elves are skilled hunters, but their methods are soft — they don’t take more than they need, and they rarely, if ever, hunt for meat unless necessary. Instead, they gather the gifts of the forest: fruits, nuts, and herbs that sustain them without bloodshed.

You bring the carcass of a deer to them, its sleek body slung over your shoulders, the weight of your kill familiar, even if the task of bringing it to the elves feels a little out of place. You’ve been told that your offerings might be appreciated — that it’s a gesture of respect to bring something back to their realm. But there’s something in the way they look at you, something… off, as if they aren’t sure how to respond to the offering of something so primal, so rough.

Legolas stands with the other elves, watching as you approach with the dead animal. His face, ever serene, betrays little of his thoughts, but there’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes when he sees what you’ve brought. He’s seen hunters before, of course, but this is different. This is the raw, unpolished reality of hunting that belongs to someone who lives outside the order of elvish civilization.

You set the deer down before him with a grunt, brushing your hands on your rough trousers. You expect the usual admiration, the quiet nods of respect for a good kill — you’re skilled after all. You’ve been doing this longer than you care to admit. But Legolas does not step forward immediately, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as he takes in the sight of the animal. “This is…” His voice trails off, as if unsure how to proceed. He shifts his weight, the movement fluid and graceful, an unspoken tension in his posture. “A fine creature, but… why did you bring it here?”

You glance at him, not quite understanding the question. “To share,” you answer bluntly. “A hunter’s tribute to the elves. The forest provides for me, I return the favor.” The elves do not hunt for meat as you do. You know that now, but it doesn’t seem like something they would admit openly. Legolas watches the deer, his eyes studying the carcass with an unreadable expression. He steps closer, crouching down to inspect it with the care of someone who might handle something fragile, something precious. But there’s no admiration in the gesture, only a quiet unease.

“This… this is not how we honor the forest,” he says gently, though there’s an edge of confusion in his voice. “We take only what is needed and offer thanks, not trophies. We do not kill for sport. The animals give themselves to us, but we do not take their lives lightly.” You raise an eyebrow. It’s not the first time you’ve heard the elves speak of balance, of offering thanks to the earth. You’ve never understood it. To you, hunting is survival — there’s no need for excessive reverence when it’s the only way to feed yourself. But you can’t exactly fault them for their beliefs.

“I didn’t think…” you trail off, unsure of what to say. You know their way is different, but it’s hard to understand. “I thought it might be appreciated. To show I respect your lands, your way.” Legolas looks up at you then, his eyes soft but serious. “We do appreciate your efforts,” he says, his voice almost like a whisper, as if trying to ease the tension between your worlds. “But you must understand that we do not take life lightly. There are other ways to offer respect — ways that don’t bring harm. The forest gifts us with so much more than just its creatures.”

You nod slowly, your gaze shifting down to the deer. It’s strange, the way he speaks of life and nature, as though everything must be done with such care. But maybe you’re missing something. Maybe there’s more to their way of life than just survival. “I see,” you say, your voice softening as you try to understand. “I don’t know that I can offer much else, but I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind next time.” You’re not sure what else to say, and the silence between you stretches awkwardly.

Legolas offers a slight smile, though it’s more of a gentle curve to his lips than anything overtly joyful. “It is appreciated. Perhaps next time, you will bring the fruits of the forest. There is much to be found here, and it is a gift that will nourish you in ways you cannot yet understand.” You glance at the other elves, who are still observing you with quiet curiosity, their eyes lingering on the deer with something akin to quiet concern. You wonder how they’ll handle the offering, if they’ll just bury it or leave it to rot in the woods.

“I’ll consider it,” you say after a long pause, nodding your agreement to something you’re not entirely sure you’ll follow through on. You’re a hunter, it’s who you are, but… maybe there’s something to their way. Legolas steps back, his hand brushing against the tree beside him, almost as though he’s speaking to it without words. “You honor us in your own way. But let us find balance together. We can teach you how to see the forest differently, and perhaps you can teach us to appreciate the raw beauty of the hunt.” He looks at you with a twinkle of something both mischief and sincerity. “In time.”

You grin despite yourself. There’s something about him, about his calm, that makes you feel less like a misfit in their world. Maybe, just maybe, you could learn to see things through his eyes. For now, the silence lingers, but it doesn’t feel as heavy as it once did. You’ve made your offering, and Legolas has made his. There’s a bridge, however small, between your worlds now. Maybe you’ll never quite understand each other’s ways completely, but for once, it feels like that’s okay.

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

You move through the dense forest, the familiar crunch of fallen leaves beneath your boots. The sun barely pierces through the canopy, casting faint light that dances on the undergrowth. Your home is hidden deep in this wilderness—far from the glimmering, structured lives of the elves, who seem to live on a plane so distant it could almost be a different world. Here, you’ve carved out your own existence, simple and necessary. You hunt, you survive. There is nothing grand or complicated about your life.

As a hunter, you are accustomed to the solitude, the quiet of the woods, broken only by the sound of your bowstring, the call of a deer, or the snap of twigs underfoot. Meat, fresh from the forest, is your sustenance. It’s not delicate, not adorned with herbs and spices like the elves would prepare it, but it keeps you alive, and that’s enough. The idea of eating like the elves—light, airy meals of fruits, nuts, and berries—is foreign to you. It would not fill your stomach; it would not satisfy the hunger that gnaws at you from the inside.

Yet, something in you compels you to bring the fruits of your labor to them, to the elves of Lothlórien, those strange, ethereal beings who live in the glimmering light of their sacred woods. Maybe you hope they’ll appreciate the skill it took to bring down the stag or the wild boar. Maybe you long for some recognition for the life you’ve carved in this untamed wilderness.

You walk for hours, your game draped over your shoulders, the weight a reminder of your efforts. The faint whisper of leaves in the wind is the only sound in the forest now. When you reach the borders of Lothlórien, the sight of the silver trees fills you with a strange sense of awe. You’re so far removed from their world, and yet, you are bringing them something.

Celeborn watches you from a distance as you approach the heart of Lothlórien. His eyes are calm, measuring, assessing. He has seen many things in his long life, but a solitary hunter—drenched in the sweat of his labor, the scent of the wild still clinging to him—is a curiosity. His people are not like you. Their lives are defined by a different kind of grace, one that values balance, subtlety, and harmony with the land. His people forage and cultivate, nurturing the land that they hold dear. The act of hunting for sport or necessity, especially in the raw, primal way you do it, is not something they find familiar or comforting.

As you draw closer, Celeborn steps forward, his presence a quiet command, and yet there is a softness in his gaze. “What brings you here, hunter of the woods?” His voice is calm, soothing, like the rustle of the leaves above. “You carry the spoils of your hunt, I see.” You lower your prize, the weight of the boar now on the ground between you. “I thought you would appreciate these,” you say, a touch of uncertainty in your voice. “A fine boar, taken down with skill.” You step back, letting the smell of the wild waft into the air.

Celeborn observes the carcass silently for a moment. His expression is unreadable, the serene calm of someone who has seen many things in his long life. To him, this offering is strange. His people do not hunt for necessity like you. Their connection to the land is different—a partnership, not a conquest. And yet, he is not one to judge, not without understanding.

“We are not strangers to the hunt,” Celeborn says gently, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet respect. “But in our realm, hunting is a rare occurrence, reserved for times when the balance of the forest is disrupted, or when we gather in celebration. What you bring… it is not without its merit. But our ways, they differ.”

You feel a sense of discomfort stir inside you, an unfamiliar feeling. You had hoped for more of an acknowledgment, a greater appreciation for what you’ve done. You’ve lived for so long in the solitude of your hunt that the notion of how others might view it is almost alien to you. “I understand,” you reply, your voice rough from the journey. “It’s not what you are used to. But it’s the way of the wild, of the forest. The cycle of life. I thought… perhaps, it would help.”

Celeborn’s gaze softens, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He steps closer, the elegance of his movements matching the grace of the ancient woods around him. “We do not shy away from the realities of life. The forest is not only filled with beauty, but with struggles as well. But we, the Elves of Lothlórien, seek to live in harmony with nature, rather than to take from it in excess.” He pauses, contemplating his words. “The forest, like the heart of a wise ruler, must remain in balance. Your hunt, your offering, is… not without merit. It shows skill, certainly. And it is a part of your world. But here, the balance is what we value above all.”

You are silent for a moment, the weight of his words sinking in. You had always thought of hunting as a simple necessity, but to Celeborn and his people, it seems to be so much more than that. They do not take from nature, they live with it, drawing only what is needed, never more. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” you say after a pause, feeling something like shame wash over you. “I thought you might need it.”

Celeborn regards you with a quiet sympathy, his eyes softening. “You need not apologize, hunter. Your offering, while not aligned with our ways, is a gesture that shows you understand the forest’s gifts. And for that, we are grateful. Perhaps… you would allow me to show you the ways of our people? There is more to living with nature than taking from it. There is peace to be found in understanding its rhythms.”

The weight of your hunt still lingers on your shoulders, but his words stir something in you—a curiosity, a desire to understand what it means to live in harmony with the world rather than simply taking from it. Celeborn’s offer is gentle, not one of judgment, but of invitation. An invitation to learn, to see the forest in a different way.

You nod, slowly, uncertain but willing. “I would like that,” you say. Celeborn gives a small, approving nod. “Then come. There is much to show you.” And as you follow him deeper into the heart of Lothlórien, you feel a strange sense of peace settle within you, as if the forest itself is welcoming you, not as a hunter, but as a part of its cycle.

[haikavehs-audhd]

Love and Deepspace Headcanons

Tags: sfw/13+ only (i can't write anything suggestive/smutty for my life), implied autistic/ADHD MC based off my experience, genderneutral/transmasc!MC because i'm a guy and all of you can fight me, some age regressor!MC x Caregiver!Sylus/Caregiver!Caleb in their parts (it is NOT a kink, do not associate it with that.), most of it is silly stuff about the LI and/or the relationship with MC because i'm mentally ill and like coming up with scenarios, some are self indulgement lol

A/N: Also want to clarify a few things: 1) I'm a Rafayel, Sylus, and Caleb main and unfamiliar with the depths of Xavier and Zayne's personalities, so apologies if they're OOC, 2) I Do Not Have both Full Sets if Xavier's Lightseeker* or Lumiere Myths, both Full Sets Zayne's Foreseer* and Master of Fate Myths, Sylus' Abyss Sovereign Myth, or Caleb's Farspace Colonal Myth as of writing this, so anything that references them is due to spoilers I found on Twitter from other players doing in depth stuff, and 3) I. Am not a writer, I am an artist, so this might suck

*I have One Lightseeker and One Foreseer

Recommended Track for the entire thing:

🌟 Xavier 🌟

Has fairy lights and glow in the dark stars in his room/scattered around his apartment thanks to a suggestion by MCMC also has fairy lights and a string light set that has moons and stars. Xavier picked that one out

MC and Xavier made matching Build a Bears to represent each other--MC's is a Pastel Swirl Pawlette, Xavier's is a Pastel Swirl Kitty (Names are up for interpretation)

You know how it's canon that when they LIs are happy they show their Evols via Xavier glowing? What if it's just not happiness and with any extreme emotion?

Aka Xavier glows softly when he's happy, blinding when he's angry, probably super dim when he's upset/sad/hurt etc

He's probably the second warmest LI in terms of body heat cuz of the Light Evol

Give MC a weighted blanket and snuggling up to Xavier in the winter and them 2 are the happiest nappers ever

MC and him both infodump about astronomy together

MC probably taught him about astrology. He probably doesn't believe in it fully but indulges them, listening with wide intent eyes and blinking in code because he loves MC so much

"So you're upset because Mercury is in...gatorade?" "Xavier no--"

They have matching bunny onesies. Xavier's is white and blue, MC's is gray and pink

MC calls him Stardew after showing him Stardew Valley!!

They have a Meadowlands Farm and a buncha animals in, included modded ones

MC absolutely named one of their Rabbits after him

MC probably also plays Animal Crossing with him

Idk he seems like a Cozy Gamer ngl

MC tried to teach him to cook properly

It still doesn't work but. A+ for effort!

Much like his little secret blinking code, MC has a type of tapping/shape drawing code and will use their fingers to tap messages on his cheeks when they squish them!

His love language is Quality Time and Physical Touch

Tara, Andrew, and Simone tease them lightheartedly whenever they're at the Association. Jenna smiles and shakes their head

Holds hands under the desk when they're doing paperwork

Has probably watched Suzume or Your Name together!

Song(s) i associate with Xavier from my playlist: Starlight - Dreamcatcher, Fallen Star - The KingDom, Fireflies - Dreamcatcher, Moonchild - RM of BTS, Supernova - Aespa, Mikrokosmos - BTS

❄️ Zayne ❄️

That man is AUTISTIC and you can pry him out of my grasp WHEN I AM ROTTING 6 FT UNDER I WILL FIGHT ALL OF YOU

Has light sensory issues (that's why he always wears sunglasses stop making fun of him)

MC once stuck snowflake decals on his window. They have not left the window since

Zayne has one of those fat round seel pillows/plushies on his bed. MC gifted him that for Christmas when they were kids and he hasn't parted with it since

MC is kind of surprised but melted at the fact he kept it for all these years

LOVES when MC stress bakes, but also makes sure that neither of them overindulge. Health is important you know

MC's addicted to peppermints because of him. Zayne happily supplies them with the succulent mints (it helps with their anxiety and overstimulation)

I feel like Zayne would be the best at knowing ways to de-escalate a possible meltdown/anxiety attack

Especially with his Evol, he makes sure he can conjure up an ice crystal for MC to grasp so their brain focuses on the cold sensation instead of whatever caused the meltdown/anxiety attack

Speaking of his Evol, his extreme emotions are kinda. Elsa like in terms of it manifesting

Soft snowflakes falling gently around him when he's happy, harsh flurries and blizzards forming when he's angry as his neck and hands crystalize due to the curse, ice crystals forming in sharp #pikes around him, less rapid crystalization of his hands and neck forming when he's upset/sad/hurt as snow falls in wet clumps, etc

He's also the coldest LI body heat wise!!

MC clings to Zayne when the summer heat becomes too much and he's easily able to cool them down

Probably learned how to make snowcones using his Evol for them

They love it

The meal planner of the relationship!! He makes sure that they both have balanced meals and healthy foods in the kitchen

MC also sneaks in cute little love notes when they pack his lunch if they know he's gonna have a busy day!!

Things like "I love you, hope you have a good day!" "Stay warm today!" "Can't wait to see you!" Etc. Sometimes cheesy pick-up lines and poems are there

Zayne keeps all of them in a little drawer at his desk when he's doing smaller appointments/checkups/paperwork

On particularly hard days, he'll take one out, reread it, and gives the slightest hint of a smile

You know how he has dry humor? ...dad puns. That man can and will say Dad Puns

MC loves it tho

They had snowball fights w Caleb as kids

MC claimed he cheated though because of his Evol

Now that they're adults, they likely take walks through the snow and admire how sparkly it looks in the moonlight

MC absolutely sneaks an attack on him with a snowball though

It ends with them making snow angels and going home to make hot cocoa with marshmallows <3

His love languages are Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation

Nicknames from MC: Pear Bear, Sweet Tooth, Sweetums, Mr. Snowman, Doc

Songs i associate with Zayne from my playlist: In the Frozen - Dreamcatcher, Jamais Vu - BTS, Like Crazy (English Ver) by Jimin of BTS, The Apparition - Sleep Token (HEAVY on Dawnbreaker!Zayne for this one)

🐟 Rafayel 🐟

His love language is Words of Affirmation, Quality Time, and Physical Touch

MC made matching kandi bracelets for them!! He proudly wears his and has a fish charm, MC usually has theirs on when not on missions, in their pocket when they are, and has a seashell charm!

Gets art lessons from Rafayel and improves slowly over time

MC is probably more of a fanartist/OC artist

Absolutely made self inserts/OCs based off them and Rafayel

Rafayel absolutely adores them and makes a big deal of hanging up every piece of artwork they draw

Lots of moonlight picnics on the beach!!

Okay listen i know Moonlight Jellies are probably a Stardew Valley only thing, but imagine Rafayel plays into it and gets MC all excited about them as if they were real

MC gets very excited over the stories Rafayel tells them

Warmest LI!! His Fire Evol does wonders in the coldest of winters. He jokes it's only due to him being Lemurian though (it plays a part)

And when he feels extreme emotions? Oh watch out.

Tiny flames and sparks float around him when he's happy, burning infernos and possibly setting someone something on fire when he's angry, sizzling scorches when he's hurt or upset, etc

I also like to think he probably shot flames at the other love interests out of jealousy

Mainly Xavier or Zayne

Because i think he would know those 2 more due to stalking us (OG3 crumbs please take them)

Gets very dramatically pouty if you call him Ariel

"c'mon Rafa please sing A Whole New World for me? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻" "What? So you can tease me and call me Ariel again? No way"

Does it anyways

I'd like to think he saves his singing for very special occassions due to. Y'know. It being a way to manipulate people

And some special occassions include birthdays or when MC needs comfort after a nightmare and needs to be lulled back asleep

rises the moon by Liana Flores is probably the most common

He would sing it so softly

Ugh how much to pay the Eng VA to sing it in his voice.......i'll sell my kidney for it--

He likes listening to MC sing too btw, sometimes will join in for a duet

I think lovely by Billie Eilish ft Khalid would be a good match idk i'm mentally ill okay

MC once said Artsy Birb looks like Psyduck

And probably made him an Artsy Psyduck

That's hilarious to me idk

Nicknames to him include: Raf, Rafa, Fishie, Jellyfishie, Angelfish

MC peobably asks him to tell them stories about Lemuria to fall asleep to

He indulges every time

Is also slowly teaching them Lemurian and Sea Creature languages

Is very surprised when MC brings up a word in Lemurian he hasn't taught them

Probably tears up a little but shrugs it off with his antics

Oh and him and Sylus? Most likely to silent (but happily) cry when you walk down the isle

Very surprised if he finds out the extent of MC's "seafood" safe foods are fish sticks

"Fish sticks aren't seafood, my beloved..." "Wdym they aren't??? They're fish???"

Songs i associate with Rafayel via my playlist: Burn - The KingDom, Suzume - RADWIMPS ft Toaka, Sea - BTS, Black Swan - BTS, Can't Get You Out Of My Mind - Dreamcatcher, Bonvoyage (Farewell Ver) - Dreamcatcher

🐦‍⬛ Sylus 🐦‍⬛

Nicknames MC gave Sylus: Charizard, Toothless, Lord Faul (he did not understand that one, but lovingly and willingly heard MC out with their info dump on Dragon's Keep), My Dragon (he may have teared up a little. Just a bit), My Crow

Despite being a literal gang leader in a lawless land of sorts, he is the safest place you will ever know

Constantly fights MC on whether or not they can be spoiled

Bonus if MC argues because they have grown up pinching pennies/in rough times and hate the feeling because they feel like they owe the person now

"No Sylus, please, I can't allow you to do this--" "MC it's a $20 necklace that you've been staring at longingly for 6 months, please let me buy you it--" "NO I REFUSE TO ALLOW IT"

It was bought for them lmfao

Would absolutely....take care of any problems you face in terms of toxic friends or family members

I mean any of the LIs would but Sylus, Rafayel, and Caleb i feel would be the ones to take it to the extremes iykyk

"Kitten, is your sibling putting you down again?" "Yes, but you don't need to worry about it, I'm cutting them off--" "Are you sure you don't want me to take care of them?" "Sylus no-"

Realizes pretty quickly that MC age regresses due to repressed traumas and easily steps up to the plate of caregiver

When i say this man is the softest dragon alive to tiny space MC, i mean it

Melts when Age Regressed!MC colors in a Toothless coloring page with black and red and says it's Sylus

Caregiver!Sylus is called Papa Dragon, Sylus calls Age Regressed!MC his little one/tiny dove

Makes sure Age Regressed!MC is comfy, safe, happy, and warm and does everything to make sure they know this

If it lasts longer than a day, he makes sure to tuck them in and kiss their forehead gently

Maybe hums a song or two

Age Regressed!MC teases he's offkey the first couple times, but he's genuinely trying!!!

Always sings the lullaby Past!MC sang him, but never finishes it

Age Regressed!MC is asleep by then anyways

I'm not sure how his Evol would show in his extreme emotions. I presume energy flakes would float around him when he's happy, maybe the linkage glows brightly? I know when he's angry...ooh that shit snaps your neck quicker than you can think, upset/hurt? Questionable. Energy is strange idk--

He's a dragon. He purrs. It sounds like a demonic cat. It's soothing do not look at me like that--

He likes curing around MC and resting against their chest and purrs happily. If he had his dragon tail, it'd be wrapped around their leg softly

Sylus watches over MC at night. There's really no reason to, honestly, but because he's nocturnal and MC kinda isn't most times, he takes the time fully appreciating how at peace MC looks, seeing all the finer details of their face. How their lashes brush against their cheeks, how their hair falls in front of their face (if they have long hair, at least), how softly they breathe, etc

It's enough to make a grown dragon cry

Def often gives his chef a day off so he can cook for MC

MC always comes up and tries to jab him like his myth but he always catches them

Cue instant backhug

Very domestic husband coded oh my gods

Actually chuckled when MC brought home the Grumpy Crow plushie he won in the crane machine for them and instantly put them on the nightstand next to their side

"He needs to help Mephisto keep watch"

Speaking of Mephisto, him and MC def have a sorta sibling relationship where they wanna kill each other but also would kill someone if you fuck with the other

Luke and Kieran are def besties with MC and absolutely adore them

How could they not? They make the boss happy and he actually kinda smiles!

Luke, Kieran, and MC def have gossip time and shit talk about different celebrity/influencer news

Bonus if MC is latino/latina and calls it Chisme

Shit gets MESSY

MC insisted they all have a blanket fort movie marathon and watched all 3 Sonic Movies. Sylus enjoyed it and relates to Shadow a bit too much LMFAO

MC pranked Luke and Kieran once by putting cutesy stickers on their masks. They have spares imo, but they keep the ones with the stickers put up in special places so the stickers never get ruined when they're out working for Sylus

Once, Sylus came home to see the twins and MC in a cuddle pile with Mephisto resting on top, all sleeping peacefully. He may have snuck a photo.

Loves to put on his vinyls and slow dance with MC, it's a great bonding experience

He probably also asks MC to sing for him sometimes, like he knows they don't remember but he also Likes Their Voice So Much

Sylus' love languages are Acts of Service, Gift Giving, and Words of Affirmation

Songs i associate with Sylus via my playlist: Take Me Back to Eden - Sleep Token, Monster - Meg and Dia, Cure - AKUGETSU, Park Byeong Hoon (yes Round 6 Alien Stage Song shut up), Black Sorrow - Park Byeong Hoon, Gone - BANG&JUNG&YOO&MOON (aka B.A.P to me), 1004 (Angel) - B.A.P, Bleeders - Black Veil Brides

🍎 Caleb 🍎

Has a box full of gifts and trinkets MC has given him over the years

Probably has kept one of their old plushies that they outgrew/forgot as a reminder of MC

Also domestic husband!! Refuses to let MC do shit. MC argues playfully then gives up

They cook together, CALEB'S the one giving backhugs while MC cooks

He's also the reason they know how to cook

Secretly jealous of any and all classmates that had a crush on MC/asked them out

Used to help MC choose their outfits for different occassions

Him and MC learned the choreo for the Chopstick Brothers' Little Apple because MC said it reminded them of Caleb

They end up collapsing after and laughing

Caleb is a HUGE Mario Kart/Super Smash Bros player and gets super competitive with MC

I'm talking literal fist fights over it don't @ me

He cares for any bruises and wounds caused by it though

And kisses them better

MC is shit terrified of storms and he always is there, arms open, knowing their anxiety spikes even with the chip in his head

Has his hands over their ears to help muffle the thunder

This nerd probably got his ass handed to him in his younger years protecting MC, long before buff DAA Pilot/Colonel of Farspace, and probably worked out to help defend them better

Idk why but he feels like he'd secretly love anime/Kpop/Jpop/Romcoms

Just a fuckin nerd

Also a Girl Group stan. Likes Kara, 2NE1, Twice, T-Ara, Aespa, Le Sserafim, Illit, Itzy, etc etc you get my point

Absolutely knows about the other 4, his reactions to them are vastly diff though

Xavier and Caleb would have a jealousy off, should they somehow end up alone together. Both of them are possessive men, one would stalk the other and the other would hold his blade to his throat and tell him he does not care whether him and MC were raised together, stay the hell away. It's very tense

Zayne and Caleb obviously have known each other since childhood, but Zayne has absolutely no idea what Caleb has done nor the effects of the chip. He does notice small things, like how Caleb will glare at him while MC isn't looking, the slightly possessive arm wrap, the way Caleb leans closer when all 3 are out and about. Zayne doesn't do much though, at least not super obvious. He'll make it a slight competition, making sure MC's okay, telling Caleb it's fine because "MC is his patient, they're taken care of", making sure MC is eating well, his sentences losing the usual monotone tinge it has to show teasing, almost amusement at Caleb's antics. If Zayne knew though...oh, all hell would break loose and i'm sure we'd have a Dawnbreaker incident

Rafayel and Caleb would have the most explosive fights i think, not around MC though. Never around MC. Lots of arguing, Rafayel putting his daggers to Caleb's throat, Caleb pressing his military pistols to Rafayel's head, the both of them grinning like mad men. Viscious words being thrown around, threats being done. Words like "my beloved bride" and "I'm their protector" are used constantly. At the end of it all, they probably both pout when MC is around, leaving them confused because what the fuck just happened??? Hello???

Sylus probably doesn't give him much of any fight, just using half truths and sly, sarcastic comments to get under Caleb's skin. He knows Caleb knows that MC stayed with him in the N109 Zone, he's well aware Caleb knows of the warning he gave them about family being the biggest betrayal, and he uses it to his advantage. Caleb gets easily frustrated and pissed off, Sylus' words affecting him a lot, but he's perfected the art of hiding his emotions over the years, so the only way you know of this is the fire in Caleb's eyes

His Evol when he feels extreme emotions is also hard to pin down for how it activates. I'd like to think when he's happy, he himself floats, maybe MC if it happens to be a hug or kiss from them, not too high though. Or when he's angry, stuff gets thrown to a wall. Not sure about sadness/upset/hurt though...

His love language has all of em, but I think the main big one is Acts of Service and Quality Time

I feel like in their middle/high school days he tried to ask MC out for a school dance a la prom or smth similar and MC, not knowing much better, took it as a "my gege is gonna be my date because i have no one else, how sweet <3"

I wanna say MC probably also realized around middle/high school days that they had feelings for him, but never said anything due to fear of rejection or ruining the closeness

Likely they were both each other's firsts this lifetime. First kiss, first date, etc

Song(s) that remind me of Caleb via my Playlist: 0X1=Lovesong (I Know I Love You) - Tomorrow x Together, My Clematis - Rubyeye, C!naH, Paranoia - Kang Daniel, Sandcastle - The KingDom, Cyberpunk - Ateez, Breaking Out - Dreamcatcher, Don't Leave Me - BTS, Error - VIXX

Pre-Adoption!Caleb probably tried to fight the scientists and doctors that would experiment on him and kill MC over and over but he couldn't do a thing, being such a young child

Nicknames from MC: Applejack, Captain, Big Bro (when they were younger, used sarcastically in Present Day), CaBOOM (used very rarely and very sarcastically)

I hope you guys enjoyed it! All borders are from @thecutestgrotto :)

I probably would never do this again lmfao--this took so long and is super self indulgent i am so sorry

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[tunastime]

Hi I’m never leaving you alone with these prompts—Ingo and Emmet (with an Apricot, if it works) in Unova + “look at the moon…” ? I’m being vague with this one to see where you may take it, but I hope it sparks somethin in your brain :>

HI myke! So I completely disregarded your prompt in favor of doing what you asked me in my dms LOL (something along the lines of putting our ocs/my oc in with the twins). So, happy belated birthday, here's this finally posted! (1182 words) (x)

Like two nesting wingull, Apricot and Marlow huddle together in the empty stands of the practice stadium. It's well after closing now, though the floodlights still cast their white-silver across the length of the astro-turf and chalk field. Apricot blows into his cupped hands, trying to warm his cold-numbed fingers. Marlow, on the contrary, looks content in his parka, scarf wound tight around his nose and mouth. Apricot grumbles.

Below them on the still-crunchy grass, Ingo and Emmet chatter among themselves. Apricot watches them knock into each other playfully as Emmet pats the massive form of Eelektross beside him. Haxorus shuffles beside Ingo, sniffing his jacket collar as the two pace back to their imaginary starting points. Apricot sinks back in his chair, still trying to warm his hands.

"You look cold," Marlow laughs. "Why didn't you bring gloves?"

Apricot frowns. "I didn't think it would be that cold, alright?" He hunkers into the fabric of his scarf, throwing a squinting glance over to Marlow. Marlow laughs, throwing himself back.

"It's not your first Unova winter, Apri!"

"That doesn't matter!" He squeaks. "It feels colder than Hisui. Maybe if my clothes were better insulated."

"Maybe if you wore gloves," Marlow hums, looking back to the field below them. The lights reflect off the white of Emmet's duster as he darts around. "Or a hat?"

Apricot grumbles. Instead, he watches the twins below shuffle around each other, throwing out barely heard words and jeers as Haxorous and Eelektross throw electric sparks and mud back and forth. Eelektross shudders out a bolt of electricity that Haxorous barely dodges, and Apricot barely restrains the groan of frustration that bubbles up in his chest. It seems that, in the midst of his complaining, he'd forgotten the real reason he and Marlow are here. He pulls his knees up, going quiet for a moment as he peers over them at the practice field below. Marlow’s expression softens in his peripheral vision. He tilts his head as he watches Ingo and Emmet, the crackle of energy and elements a few yards from the two of them. 

Only a handful of days prior, the two were sprawled out on Apricot’s living room rug, a stack of magazines and costume patterns between them as Marlow pitched outfit designs half-heartedly. It was late—maybe that was half the reason Apricot had even gotten the idea in the first place—but all at once, he had flopped onto his stomach, and said, mostly into the carpet:

“Would it be a good idea for us to ask Ingo and Emmet?”

Marlow sat up, dog-earing a magazine page.

“For what?” he asked. “For—not for outfit inspiration, right?”

“No—” Apricot squeaked. “No, not that. For—we’re having trouble syncing up, right? So why not ask the two most in-sync people we know for tips. So we can get our moves to look good.”

“Two strongest people we know, too,” Marlow hummed. Apricot peered an eye at him, half-obscured by the crush of his cheek and hair that had pooled over his shoulder. Marlow shrugged, nodding slightly.

“Do you think they’d let us shadow a practice?” Apricot asked. Another shrug, but this time, more curious and less contemplative. 

“It’ll probably be really early in the morning,” he said. “If you can stand to be up that early.”

He prodded Apricot with a socked foot, jerking back, snorting when Apricot swatted him away.

“I’ll be fine,” Apricot grumbled. 

Now, awake but cold, the tips of his ears red and nose running, Apricot sits in the stands, watching, eyes flicking back and forth between the two twins in a vain attempt to catch any sort of new movement, any sort of information he could to store away for their performance. Which is what it was, really, more than a battle. If the two of them could make a normal two-versus-two look like dance, rather than a display of strength, they would be more and more likely to look good in contest. When no damage had to be done, they could focus solely on looking the part, rather than being the strongest. From beside him, Buizel nuzzles her head into the side of Apricot’s leg, weaseling between his thigh and his shoulder. He lets her rest her large, warm head on his lap as he watches Emmet call out to Eelektross over the throw of Ingo’s voice.

Despite fighting against each other, the two seemed to move like the balance of a scale, tipping this way and that as they defended themselves. Marlow leans until they’re shoulder to shoulder, eyes wide and focused on Ingo’s movements. It isn’t long until the two are shouting over each other, promptly startling Buizel under the stand beside them. Marlow flings himself up as Haxorous manages to slam into Eelektross, and both pokemon go down in a heap. He cheers, shaking Apricot back and forth as Ingo jogs over to collect his pokemon.

With Emmet beaming and Ingo laughing to himself, the twins wander to the stands. Marlow meets them halfway, leaning over the small railing as Ingo rests his back against it.

“That was amazing!” Marlow says breathlessly.

“Is it starting to make sense?” Emmet asks, tilting his head toward Apricot. Apricot slowly unravels himself, shuffling over to the side of the bannister. Finally warm enough to unstick his shoulders from his ears, he grins.

“A bit—I was telling Marlow earlier, it’s… almost like a dance,” he starts, sticking his hands in his pockets. He blows away a tuft of hair as it threatens to fall in his face. “I mean,  you two know each other well enough to predict attacks and prepare for them, but even if we’re not really fighting in contest, we should probably do the same thing. Fight with each other enough to predict the next move.”

Ingo nods.

“You do a lot of fighting together,” he says, nodding. “But fighting against each other might help you cement some of your more typical move-sets. Or at least know how someone might respond.”

“Sounds like more double-battles,” Apricot snorts, elbowing Marlow beside him. “Maybe we can rope Chance and Damon in, too.”

“Sunny can ref,” Marlow grins. Apricot laughs, knocking his shoulder into Marlow hard enough for both of them to wobble. Marlow shoves back, until the two of them are leaning hard into each other as Ingo and Emmet look on. Despite the puzzles expression that crosses Emmet’s face, Ingo says:

“How about one more before we wrap up?”

Apricot beams. 

“My money’s still on Emmet,” he says, giving a weak, one-handed salute. Emmet returns the gesture enthusiastically.

“You two ready?” he asks as he paces back. With a wave of his hand, Galvantula weasels free of her pokeball, chittering happily as Emmet pats her large head. Chandelure swirls next to Ingo’s shoulder, her purple-blue lamplight throwing eerie shadows back against his face. Marlow finally slumps over the railing, still laughing to himself.

“As we’ll ever be,” he says. 

Taking their places once again, the twins start their battle. This time, Apricot tells himself, he’s going to take many mental notes.

[littlemissmanga]

I am very disrespectfully asking for “He was looking at your ass and that ass is mine.” with Crosshair 🫶

Orders received! And I am most disrespectfully saying hell yes!

This is why I love prompts like this - I never would have read this and thought of Crosshair. But you did and now I have THOTS. (also fucking win for the Jack Black gif)

I (again) blew through the 200 word limit, but this isn't too bad.

Send me one of the following for a 200 word clone drabble

Pairing: Crosshair x (gn) Reader

W/C: 478

Warnings: SFW but groping and implications, mentions of impact play, possessive Crosshair (is he ever not?)

He cut through the crowd like a blaster bolt, unconcerned by the way his shoulders pushed the other bar patrons aside. The only thing he was concerned with at all was you … and the sleemo dancing far too close, eyes roving over you.

You didn’t look too concerned. In fact, you looked a little too comfortable for his liking. Crosshair knew if you wanted you could lay the man on his back in 30 seconds. You were choosing to indulge him.

Maybe you both needed a lesson.

With just a few more strides, he came up next to you, grabbing your arm and deftly pulling you into him. You turned and looked up, the shock in them melting to something softer in recognition. Before you could even offer a greeting, his lips were on yours — forceful, demanding, incessant. Not satisfied yet, Crosshair wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you into him as he let his hand slide lower to grab your ass possessively.

Your little yelp only inspired him to deepen the kiss, claiming your mouth with his and savoring your taste.

His eyes snapped open and cut to the man behind you, smirking at the flustered and indignant face he wore. “Can I help you?” he mocked.

Cross could feel your head turning to look over your shoulder, but his arms held you firmly in place, preventing you from catching the other man’s gaze. “Cross…”

It only took two heartbeats for the man to understand his message and leave.

“Crosshair,” you repeated pointedly, bringing his attention back to you. Gods he loved holding you so close, looking down at you all pressed up against him like this, proving to himself and everyone else that you were his. “What the blasted hells was that about?”

“He was looking at your ass,” he said, leaning down to nip at your pouting lip. You were so cute when you acted like you hated his behavior. But the way you pushed in closer and let him slip his leg between yours told him otherwise. “And that ass is mine.”

Driving his point home, Crosshair grabbed your ass with both hands, pulling you just to the tips of your toes so you rested your weight entirely on him. “Don’t make me remind you again, doll,” he warned with a squeeze.

He could feel himself hardening as your lips parted, shiny from his spit and the tacky gloss you coated them with. But fuck if the way you smiled, open mouthed and hungry eyed didn’t make him want to take you right there.

“Or else what?”

Karking tease. You were doing it on purpose.

Leaning in close, Crosshair made sure you looked him dead in the eye when he hissed, “Or else I’ll mark it up so much not a soul in the galaxy will question who you belong to.”

A/N: IDK why shit like this is so damn indulgent when this behavior is so awful IRL. But god this was fun to sink into and write.

[presiding]

What is your favourite thing about Billie Lurk?

(Answers are obvious possibly but i love when people talk about her👍)

thanks for the ask!! YEAH ME TOO I love when people talk about Billie! I can't say I have a favourite thing specifically, but I can explain why she's my fav. apologies for not taking this qn literally, but -

short answer: she’s really cool

& you can stop reading there, or, for the maybe 2 mutuals who might have time to read this my thoughts on her as a character, her meta, and her character as raw potential...

long answer:

i considered making this entire thing a gush so you could read a gush about Billie. but, part of what draws me to her is that she’s not always well written, and in fandom she’s underrated for a literal protagonist.

since you ask...

billie is a cool character

when I played Dh2 (hadn't played Dh1), I was excited to see a black woman with disabilities who was captaining a massive ship by herself. wow.

then I discovered Billie’s backstory with Deirdre, the way she responded to that, then having to survive while living on the run, and her bisexuality. as well as her history with daud & delilah. fascinating!

she’s an outsider who has so much to lose, and knows what it's like to lose everything - having lost everything not once but three times - but nevertheless speaks truth to power. she's so brave! she went and helped Emily & Corvo and she must have known they might kill her! plus, she’s smart, she’s funny, she gets shit done, she’s gorgeous.

but... the meta

mild critique of fandom & arkane incoming.

skip this bit if you want - you've been warned twice now - jump to tired Hayao Miyazaki and read from there if you'd like my thoughts on writing her.

i thought Death of the Outsider was going to be amazing and then... well. *sad trombone* i've written about that before so i won't keep banging on. i figured others must be disappointed too, so I joined a few fandom spaces in hopes of finding camaraderie.

most people with complaints about DotO didn’t like how the Outsider and Daud were handled. which is valid & I agree. but it seemed like most paid no attention to Billie; when people talk about her it’s with respect to Daud, as opposed to in her own right. you could argue for fandom misogyny because people don’t talk about adult Emily Kaldwin that much either, but in Billie's case, it’s misogynoir (compare & contrast with the popularity of thomas, particularly the popularity of thomas portrayed as a white man for no particular reason that i've been able to discern - i keep asking around, is it in the books???).

i think this is a LOT better now than it used to be, which is fantastic. or perhaps i have found the correct echo-chamber? ha.

ultimately, The Fandom is a fraction of the entire picture, and not even the important bit since The Fandom is not who these games are made for. you can't make money relying on only your hardcore fans even if all of them spent a fortune on merch, this is true for any AAA game.

while it's true that Billie is underrated from a fandom perspective - but Billie as an underwritten protagonist is squarely Arkane’s fault.

it was reasonable when she was a side character - the lack of info in Dh2 makes perfect sense (if anything there was more lore in Dh2 which is kind of wild)-

- but as a protagonist in Death of the Outsider?

.... there’s lousy writing, and there’s whatever is going on with Billie Lurk, a black woman who mostly exists as a foil or saviour for light-skinned characters. In her own game there’s barely any of her own lore except where it's relevant to saving two dudes.

lore hints at, but barely touches on what race means in the Dh universe (xenophobia is stronger in Dh1; separate essay i guess), but Arkane has patted themselves on the back for portraying non-white characters, which feels like the same thing as the aesthetic of diversity we're seeing in advertising currently because it’s in marketing trend guides. it's self-congratulatory and it's a missed opportunity for deeper storytelling.

you can see an example of diversity at its most shallow in the way that Billie’s written: there’s little engagement with her as an entire person with history & wants & preferences, and the world she walks through in that game feels like it has nothing to do with her. you could make a case for alienation as a theme, but then, how do you handle the titular premise of 'Dishonored' without ever letting Billie make changes in an environment without a chaos system? it's disappointing from that angle too.

in my opinion, whatever it's worth, it was an accident Arkane created such an awesome character - they needed someone to betray daud. congrats billie.

all this said, it makes her an underdog as far as characters to enjoy & create art & stories for. it's nice to find so many like-minded, switched on people! <3

billie's character potential

she’s got a wealth of unexplored lore, being deeply intertwined with both Karnaca & Dunwall’s fates & criminal underbellies, as well as her connections to the witches & whalers, and three Empresses.

she’s lived a few distinct lifetimes and in the games we get to meet her at two peaks (KoD & DotO) & a low (Dh2 as Meagan).

her voice is very distinct, her dry & often dark humour is entertaining & fun to write. her perspective is really interesting - she’s had the widest variety of void-powers of anyone canonically, and she’s also lived through the highest highs and lowest lows.

she's got everything going for her :) i couldn't really pick a fav thing!

[yuseirra]

if there's one thing I personally focus on when I draw something, it would be the emotions. I try to convey the exact emotions of a character when I make art, and portray how they'd be feeling at that exact situation, as they say something, and so on...

I try to feel the same feelings they would when I draw an expression, as close as I can get at least, it's what I do over and over. You don't really have to do that ofc, but for me, it's a huge part of the point and it's really fun to do! It's what I believe could give my drawings more life and make them more genuine, even if it's a sketch (in fact, sometimes sketches can be more powerful on that aspect so I used to stick to drawing exclusively those for a very long time). That's how I pour my heart in, and I'm sure a lot of artists would do the same in their own ways when they create their works.

For that same reason, I really like drawing smiles (and characters that can make genuine ones) because that makes me happy. Other feelings are cool, too, but drawing happy art is so soothing, so I draw a lot of smiles!! It's also why I feel the need to understand a character, because you can't exactly feel what they'd be feeling unless you aren't so aware of what they're going through. I wouldn't be entirely right, I'm sure, but I really want to try. It's maybe why I usually stick to drawing a select few characters from a series all the time, because there are some characters I "get" better than others, and feel I can bring out better(and most of the time, luckily, those kinds of characters end up to be my favs, so I can draw then alot ;v;) Then again, I'm seeing them through my own lens of thinking, I'm just putting out what I see in those characters in the end. But it's usually the good things I love! Or something I feel is really intriguing and want to think about, or want to explore on, emphasize? Anyhow, it's the feelings and emotions part I've always been interested about! So I hope I can do that well!

My drawings aren't perfect, but they aren't too bad either, and I've been trying all the way. If they could imbue some sort of feeling for you, that's definitely what I wanted to accomplish! It makes me so excited when I get feedbacks about it being able to make someone "feel" something.. it means what I wanted got across so I'm like "yes"!!

it'd be nice if they will feel genuine one way or another!! I was and is and will be happy to continue to share my works with you all

[solar-nightengale]

PROTECTIVE PROMPTS HAND ON THE OTHER'S SHOULDER WITH THE BETROTHED FOOLS PLEASE AND THANK YOU 💖💖💖💖💖

DKJLHKPCTIXR HELLO!!! ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE!! 🥰🥰💖💖💖 This ended up being a little snippet taking place in the past pre-Enchanté insanity so :) Have at that ehhehe Betrothed fools are still just the dating idiots here 😌 <3333

~ I GOT YOU ~ PROTECTIVE PROMPTS

4. putting a hand on the other's shoulder to show their support

Flick, flick, flick went the knife over the wood he was working into, chippings dropping onto the table around him. The sun had gone down hours ago, he knew that, but despite the headache starting to form behind his eyes, he refused to pull away from the head he was working on. The idea had struck him maybe hours ago and he had almost instantly gotten to work on it the second it did. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, the clocks above reminded him. Each passing tick was another passed second to reaching his deadline. And gods he had never wished more than right now to have the same speed and skill of his father. There was so little time left, what would he do to be able to build a puppet in as short a time frame as Geppetto once had to build an entire wardrobe?

He heard the door open, biting back a curse as he realised just how late it was if he was still up when Lampwick had come back home. His boyfriend had decided to stay the week, which came with its own set of rules. Those being Dies Solis night is the night he’d be playing cards with Eugene and Arlekin. And if he was back from that… then there’s no telling how late it truly was.

He heard a stumble before the door closed, the lock clicking soon after. “Still going at it, huh?” Lampwick’s words were spoken clearly, the steps he took unfaltering and stable. Pinocchio frowned.

For once he wasn’t drunk? That had to be a new record for him.

Pinocchio’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve almost-” the head slipped out of his grip, the woodcarver instinctively letting go of the knife in the process as both clattered to the floor. “Shit.” He dropped down and grabbed the knife, the puppet part rolling and getting stopped by Lampwick’s foot. The redhead huffed.

“Maybe now’s a good time to wrap up for the night.” Lampwick suggested as he picked the unfinished head up.

“I can’t,” Pinocchio sighed. He reached out to take the head back, only for his boyfriend to lift it high above his head. Pinocchio grunted as he jumped up, but Lampwick held it just out of his reach. “Lampwick!”

“Can’t what, baby? Reach that high?” the cheek teased as he dangled the carving, grinning widely as he straightened up even more out of reach of the woodcarver. “Use those tip-toes you love to bring out when trying to kiss me.”

“Lampwick I really don’t have time for this.” Pinocchio exclaimed as he grabbed for the older man’s sleeve and tried to pull it down.

“Why not?” Lampwick barely budged under the brunette’s relentless attempts to bring his arm down. “What? Can’t ya continue tomorrow?”

“No!” Pinocchio paused, “Maybe?” Another pause before he started up. “I have a- a council meeting tomorrow you know that! And I promised my patron that I’d have this done by Dies Mercurii and I’m not even close to being done. I’ve three days! Less than that even!”

The red-head blew a raspberry. “Well personally I think you’d get it done much better and faster if you got some sleep.”

“Now is not the time for that.”

“You’ve been working on it all day-”

“And I’ll work on it all night if I have to.”

“Pinocchio.” Gone was the teasing grin now replaced with a frown.

His arm growing lax was all the opening Pinocchio needed to finally pull the man’s arm down and snatch back the carving, turning back to the workbench and continue. He could feel his boyfriend’s breath on his shoulder, Pinocchio trying hard not to ignore Lampwick as he worked to concentrate on the chisel he was holding to the puppet’s head. “There’s more to it than that, isn’t there?” he heard him ask, Pinocchio’s eyes narrowing on the single spot he was trying to carve out. He noticed his hand shake as he pressed the knife a little more against the wood.“Spit it out, aye? What’s bugging ya?”

“Nothing,” was the swift answer Pinocchio gave.

“For someone that’s known for his lies you’re sure bad at them.” Pinocchio watched Lampwick grimace as he shot him a glare, hearing the quiet apology from him. “Who’s the patron?”

Pinocchio sighed, laying the objects onto the table. “The Princess. And her son.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘Oh’. She commissioned the puppet for entertainment on Henry’s fourth birthday. I said I’d get it done but ended up taking too long on simply thinking it up. And with the meeting tomorrow…” The woodcarver groaned as he dragged a hand down his face. He could feel his eyelids drooping, wanting nothing more than to close them right there and then and sleep. But he couldn’t. Not yet… “I know she’s going to ask about it and I don’t have a good answer to give.”

“Just’ tell her the truth.” Lampwick shrugged.

“Right! And disappoint the princess.”

Lampwick’s eyes narrowed. “So, what? You’re gonna lie? What’ll happen if you don’ got it done then?”

“That’s not going to happen. Because what I’m going to do, is get most of it done tonight, hopefully survive the meeting and then work until the sun rises in two days, praying that the gods are merciful and let me finish it by the time it’s due,” Pinocchio explained with a huff dripping of sarcasm, as he picked his tool up from the bench he was leaning against.

“That’s unreasonable.”

“Says you,” the woodcarver retorted.

“Pinocchio.” He heard a frustrated groan, pulling his hand back with a glare when Lampwick reached out for his hand. Lampwick’s hand wavered in mid-air before he opened his palm up, inviting the other to place the tool on it. The woodcarver gripped the knife tightly as he pouted up at him, seeing the gentle worry staring back. “You already looked like you haven’t slept properly in days, give yourself a break.” the red-head explained, Pinocchio’s stomach dropping at the concern.

He hated worrying him like this. Whether he knew it or not, Lampwick’s concern was one of the many things that hurt him beyond measure. It was a rarity to see, but a stab to the heart regardless. “I can’t.”

“You can. And you should. Doll, I don’t think you’re going to get a whole lot done like this. Even in the time frame you got.”

The mention of the time frame had Pinocchio’s shoulders sagging further. He had plenty of time to complete this really. In fact by now, if he had started when he should have, he’d be up and polishing the doll off, not just barely getting started on it.

“I shouldn’t have left it for so long.” He murmured, his chest suddenly aching. Gods he really fucked it up this time around. For once in his life Emma had requested something and he was about to let her down. The chances were, she’d never rely on his work ever again!

Well ‘never’ sounded unreasonable for the kind-hearted princess. But he was sure she wouldn’t have that much in him keeping up another urgent deadline like this.

“Well no use mourning tipped over cows.” he heard his partner state, the spiral in his mind grinding to a halt.

Pinocchio frowned, arching his brows up as he asked: “Do you mean crying over spilt milk?”

The red-head paused, before waving his hand dismissively.

“Irrelevant! And my point stands. Look, if it helps I can go in place of ya to that meeting. Give you more time to not only sleep but also work on this. I’ll jus’ tell the princess you couldn’t make it t’day and that’ll be that.”

“You hate going to those.” Pinocchio pointed out.

“I never said that.”

“Your words were, and I quote: ‘If you wake me up before the sun peaks I’ll have Iskra hide every saddle in the stable.’,” the woodcarver continued, Lampwick only shrugging in response.

“So be it! Just this once you can drag me out of bed and I won’t complain.” he explained with a confident smirk.

Pinocchio could only scoff in disbelief, turning back to the puppet he was working on. Right, and tomorrow morning he’d say something entirely different. And most likely go back on his word. If not sleep in entirely and then they were both in scalding hot water. It happened once before, and the look the queen had given them back then was one he’d remember for years to come.

They were younger back then but Pinocchio was no longer young nor as stupid to make such a mistake again.

…But then again Lampwick wasn’t as young like he was back then too. He had shown up at the last meeting, yet…

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looking up and seeing that strange gentleness on the man once more.

“Look, Emma’s not gonna fire you or burn your workshop down if the puppet is not on par with dwarven diamond quality. But if that’s what you wanna achieve, she won’ get mad about you missing one meeting given the reason for it. She’ll understand. An’ if-” he jumped in before the man could start talking again, “-An’ if someone has a problem wit’ it then that’s not your business either. She ain’t stepping through those doors if I’ve a say in the matter. Iskra’ll be right outside ready to make her fuck off if she tries.”

“You’re really going to have her attack the princess.” Pinocchio deadpanned, watching Lampwick’s grin widen.

“I’m not talking about the princess in this situation. B’sides, I’m sure the princess in particular be more concerned that you’re working yourself thin than anything else.” the red-head explained.

Pinocchio sighed, looking down at the still unfinished puppet and hung his head. “I don’t know…”

“It’ll be fine love.” Lampwick squeezed his shoulder. “I promise ya.”

It was tempting… he had to admit that despite the risks it was tempting. He cursed whichever god managed to make near every word the taller man say ten times more enticing than it should have been.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, watching the man’s grin only widen.

“As sure as I am about the sun rising with me in the morning.” he promised, his hand moving from his shoulder to his lower back, Pinocchio simply letting him pull him away from the work bench. “Now come on, before you faint on me and force me to carry you around.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be tragic for you do to for once.” the woodcarver joked, but still allowed the other to take the tools away, leading him away from the dread just for the night.

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

LILY!! MEANT TO TELL YOU I LOVED UR EXCERPT U POSTED I thought eric and west had such chemistry plus thank you for giving us ur super awesome music knowledge i was like jotting this band down this singer down loool love it

Heehee, ahhhhhh, thank you so much, Angie!!! 🥰 It makes me SOOOOOO HAPPY to hear that you think they had chemistry! Although I mean, not to be biased, but I thought so, too. LOL And, heh, including those artists and bands in their discussion was more than a bit of the self-indulgent part!! 😅 Hopefully the playlist that I posted there helps. 🙂

[relicsongmel]

Tell me the Pokémon music thoughts??? :000

TWO whole Pokemon music asks WOOHOO!!!!! These past few days I’ve been on a kick of listening to Scarlet and Violet’s OST and downloading my faves (since I wanted to wait until the DLC had been released and then play through it fully before doing so) and it might be one of my favorite soundtracks to date. That being said here are the tracks I’m currently the most feral about:

Battle! (Team Star Boss)

The loop for this one is almost SIX MINUTES LONG which is a smart choice for how long and difficult some of these fights tend to be—and it’s six minutes of pure unadulterated musical goodness. Obviously the killer synths and guitars are a highlight here, but what really makes this theme (and the rest of the Team Star themes) special is how the harsh instrumentation is contrasted with sections containing emotional melodies and harmonies that give a sense of determination and hope—which fits in with Team Star’s storyline as former victims of bullying and doing their best to persevere in spite of that. All their themes are also composed by one of their bosses in-universe which is a fun lore detail (shoutout to my boy Giacomo I love him <3)

South Province

This one basically functions as the theme of the Paldea Region—this leitmotif (composed by our beloved Toby Fox) appears a LOT in various places within the soundtrack, particularly in cutscenes. It’s a great theme for exploring out and about in the game’s open world, and the sunny A major is a great key choice which is always a win in my book. I’m also a big fan of the piano version that plays while you’re walking in the overworld (as opposed to using your mount Koraidon/Miraidon) as well as the beautiful arrangement used at the end of the main story (if I had a nickel for every time a piano theme at the end of a Pokemon game made me cry I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice).

Showdown! (Champion Kieran)

I haven’t had a lot of time to get myself acquainted with much of the DLC soundtrack, but I wanted to include at least one in this list because there’s a lot of quality stuff worth shouting out. This is the last of Kieran’s three battle themes (technically there’s four but the final one isn’t a full battle and is mostly comprised of Terapagos’ motif as opposed to his own so I’m omitting it here) and there’s an interesting transformation that happens across each of them—it starts out mostly with traditional instrumentation and only mild chromaticism (which almost all battle themes have at least a little of) but transforms into something harsher by adding electric guitars/synths and more dissonant, darker harmonies (this one makes heavy use of Phrygian and Locrian elements—Phrygian is a mode that’s very similar to the minor scale but uses a flat 2nd scale degree, so for a piece in E minor like this one that would mean using an F natural as opposed to an F#. Locrian is the same as Phrygian but with a flat 5 added as well, meaning B♭ as opposed to B natural. These flat notes serve to darken the overall sound), which corresponds to Kieran’s arc of becoming bitter and resentful as he suffers repeated losses at the hands of the player. I’m also tickled by the fact that his battle themes are all in E minor which is the softest and gentlest minor to my ears—you can hide under those edgy guitars all you want Kieran but we all know you’re still baby :3

Area Zero

And we’ve saved the best for last because this is hands down my FAVORITE theme from this game; it’s not even a contest. I have such a vivid memory of playing through Scarlet for the first time a year ago and being incredibly intrigued about what was hiding in the massive crater at the region’s center (I tried flying/leaping in with Koraidon and lurking outside the Zero Gate yelling “LET ME INNNN” more times than I can count lmao)—and I was not at all disappointed when I got there because this is straight up one of the prettiest areas in the whole game. However. HOWEVER. NOTHING could have possibly prepared me for the breathtakingly beautiful music that accompanies this place—I remember stopping in my tracks as soon as I heard that low brass kick in, and then the chanting. Oh my lord the CHANTING. Honestly I was sold right then and there but WE’RE STILL NOT DONE MAKING THE MUSIC OF THE GODS BECAUSE SWEET MOTHER MARY THAT SYNTH????? TOOK ME THE FUCK OUT—I lose my everliving shit at anything even resembling an erhu in music because its voice-like timbre is so…raw and emotional in a way I really don’t know how to describe; all I know is it rocks me to my core to the point that I have to watch my breathing when I listen to a piece that has one lest I start hyperventilating (because it’s powerful enough to literally induce a physiological response out of me). Needless to say I was frozen in place for at LEAST ten minutes just to take it all in; that initial experience was utterly magical and I wish more than anything I could go back in time to live that feeling again.

But that very long preface aside, there are a couple other things about this piece worth noting—the first being that E♭ minor is an IMMACULATE key choice in my opinion. In my synesthesia it primarily represents what I call “the crushing black weight of despair,” but it also functions very nicely in any intense, high-stakes situation, which fits beautifully with the circumstances surrounding Area Zero in-game. It’s a walled garden filled with invasive wildlife from the distant past/future that poses an imminent threat to Paldea’s ecosystem should they find a means of escaping to the outside; in fact, we learn from the professor that some species have already managed to do so. I also quite like how the instrumentation is vastly different from every other piece of music you’ll hear in Paldea’s overworld, which has primarily been orchestral arrangements up to this point—but here, it’s a blend of primal and futuristic sounds that perfectly captures the collision of the present and the past/future. So yeah if you couldn’t tell I am so so so so unhinged about everything this theme represents and I fully expect to be just as mentally unwell about it YEARS down the line (because believe me, I’ve certainly got the track record for it).

Scarlet and Violet’s music is just so so good—and again, obligatory “this is just the tip of the iceberg that is everything I love about this soundtrack” but I hope you enjoyed my insights into what makes this music so special!

[youngpettyqueen]

Hi! So I feel selfish since I've already requested a fic from you, but since you posted that new prompt list, could you please do #10 from The Comforter list? I don't care who says it as long as they are saying it to Julian! ❤️

anon I love youuuu <333 never be shy about asking me for fics I will happily take 695876934 requests from you

so 10 from the comforter list is... "You're only going to make it worse by not resting." and I love that and I love it applied to Julian

I decided to spread the Miles/Keiko/Julian agenda with this one- hope that's alright! this is set sometime nebulously before Keiko's pregnancy with Kirayoshi, so sometime in s3 maybe?

anyways! please enjoy <3

It was only a matter of time before something like this happened.

The station's been dealing with an outbreak of Bajoran Red Fever. It's a nasty sickness, not fatal in most cases, but it can be pretty dangerous for younger children. It's also a pain in the ass to try to kick; the main symptoms being sky-high fever, dizziness and severe weakness, nausea, and some nasty joint pain. Luckily for the non-Bajoran occupants of DS9, it's a disease that really only affects Bajorans. There have only been a handful of non-Bajorans who have ever caught the diseases.

Unluckily, Julian is one of those non-Bajorans.

"How'd he even get it?" Miles asks, still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing, "I thought non-Bajoran cases were something like one in a million- that's what he was always saying, at least."

Nurse Jabara, wearing a face mask over her mouth and nose, gives a tired shrug as she rubs her temple. "The odds were slim, but not impossible. If I had to guess, I'd say the constant, repeated exposure on top of not nearly enough rest probably did it," She pinches the bridge of her nose, grimacing like she has a headache, "Whatever the case, he has it."

Keiko looks up from where she's checking the medkit Jabara gave her. "You said he fainted, right?" She asks. Jabara nods, so she follows up, "Did he hurt himself? Do we have to worry about, I don't know, a concussion? Anything like that?"

"No," Jabara confirms, and Keiko breathes a sigh of relief, "Lucky for him, Nurse T'Strei has great reflexes, and caught him before he fell. Speaking of which, she's probably not having a great time trying to keep him in bed," She gives Miles a look that is so, so very tired, "We've had patients coming in all morning. You can imagine how he's taking being laid up."

"Say no more," Miles doesn't need to imagine- he knows Julian will be about beside himself, "We'll take him off your hands. You said those shots you gave us will protect us from the fever?" He checks.

"You're as close to immune as you can be," Jabara nods, "There's one in there for Molly, too, just in case you can't keep her away from him. Believe me, asking your family to do this wasn't my first choice, but we aren't exactly blessed with options," She sighs, "Everybody who is resistant to the fever is busy working overtime to make up for everybody who's down with it, and I can't put him with anybody who's susceptible to infection. Commander Dax tried to insist, but joined Trill can contract the fever, and it could be deadly to her and the symbiont, and-"

"Jabara," Keiko steps in, places a gentle hand on the nurse's arm to stop her rambling, "It's ok. We'll take care of him." She reassures her.

Jabara pauses. Takes a deep breath. "Thank you," She breathes, "It's been... certainly one of the longer mornings of my career. Let me take you to him before T'Strei decides to sedate him." She says.

"If she hasn't already." Miles cracks, which earns him a nudge in the ribs from Keiko.

They follow after Jabara as she leads them further into the infirmary. It's pretty busy, mostly full of Bajorans, and all of them are masked up. The only people not masked up are non-Bajorans, though Miles notices that a few of the human staff are wearing masks. Probably since their human Chief Medical Officer went and got himself infected.

Speaking of the devil, it doesn't take long to find him. They just have to follow the sound of the arguing.

"This is hardly necessary."

"You are not presently fit to deem what is necessary."

Jabara stops, and gestures for them to go ahead into a separate area. Miles and Keiko both nod to her, and continue on.

Miles has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at the scene they walk into. Because, sure, he's worried about Julian. Of course he is. But it's also very funny to see Julian lying on a biobed, with T'Strei sitting beside him and effortlessly keeping him pinned down to said bed with one hand on his chest.

"I have patients," Julian is insisting, even though he looks half-dead himself, "I have to finish my morning rounds, and then I need to-"

"If you can push me off," T'Strei cuts in, sounding like she's said this a million times over, "Then you can go."

"That is so not fair." Julian pouts.

Miles decides now is the moment to clear his throat and announce his presence. Both Julian and T'Strei look over at him, though he directs his attention to Julian. "Julian," He says, crossing his arms over his chest, "Are you disobeying doctor's orders?"

"Yes." T'Strei replies flatly.

"I'm the doctor," Julian huffs, indignant, "I give the orders."

"Which you are not following," T'Strei points out. She looks at Miles, "I assume you both are here to collect him?" She asks.

Keiko steps closer. "We are," She confirms. She's got a much more gentle touch than T'Strei and Miles do, bless her, as she goes and puts a gentle hand on Julian's cheek, "Nurse Jabara called us. How are you feeling?" She asks.

It's like a magic trick- Miles watches as all the defiance drains right out of Julian's expression, melted away by the simple touch of Keiko's hand. With all his defiance goes all his energy, and all the colour in his face. God, he looks awful- pale under his skin, and his eyes too-bright with fever.

"I'm alright," Julian tells Keiko, in a raspy voice that's anything but alright, "Honestly, Keiko, you didn't need to come."

Miles and T'Strei exchange a can you believe this bullshit look.

"Liar," Keiko accuses gently. She brings her hand up to his forehead, presses the backs of her knuckles against his pale skin, "You're burning up, Julian. You're not well. You need rest." She insists.

"Which is exactly what you're gonna get," Miles puts in, stepping over to join Keiko at Julian's bedside, "You're comin' home with us. That way, we can keep an eye on you. Make sure you actually get some rest, which we all know you're not gonna be gettin' in here." He explains.

"Oh, I- I couldn't ask you to do that," Julian says, looking as pathetic as a puppy in the rain, "I could get you sick, and what about Molly? I couldn't-"

"We got our shots done," Miles interrupts, "And we have one for Molly, too. So, no arguing," He looks up at T'Strei, "We can take him from here, Lieutenant. We'll get him outta your hair."

"Human expression." Julian says quietly, as T'Strei frowns at the statement. Then she nods, and takes her hand away, stepping back to let Miles and Keiko each grab an arm and gently ease Julian up into a sitting position.

"Thank you, Chief," T'Strei bids, "Mrs. O'Brien," She nods to Keiko, "If he gives you any trouble, do not hesitate to call. I can be available for assistance very quickly." She gives Julian a pointed look as she says that last part.

"I'm sure we can handle him," Keiko says as they get Julian off the biobed and onto wobbly legs. Miles is inclined to agree with her, considering Julian's already leaning heavily into his shoulder, the act of standing up apparently a significant drain on his energy, "C'mon, Julian, let's get you home. I've got everything you need right here." She shows him the medkit.

"Computer," Miles summons, seeing no point in dragging Julian through the long walk, "Three to transport to Chief O'Brien's quarters. Energize."

Miles wraps his arm tight around Julian's waist to hold him upright through the transport. One second they're in the infirmary, the next they're in the living room. Julian sways slightly, wobbling, and Keiko puts a hand on his chest to help steady him.

"Easy does it, Julian," She murmurs, starting to guide him towards the couch, "You poor thing, what made you think you could work like this? You're barely standing." She admonishes, her voice laced with concern.

Julian doesn't answer until they get him sitting down. He doesn't so much lean back as he does fall back against the cushions, his eyes glassy and unfocused. "I had patients," He mumbles, blinking a few times- dizzy, probably, "I couldn't just leave them."

Miles takes a seat beside him. Keiko does the same thing on his other side. "You've got a perfectly competent medical staff who are more than capable of runnin' the ship while you're away," He points out, "How long have you been sick? Honestly. Cause somehow I doubt this started today." He hasn't actually seen Julian in days. Their usual holosuite date got cancelled due to the outbreak, so he hasn't been able to keep an eye on him.

Julian frowns, squinting as he thinks. "I don't know," He replies, and he sounds like he means it, "Maybe a couple days ago. It's... hard to keep track." He admits.

Keiko gently rubs her hand up and down his arm. "Julian," She says, in that soft voice of hers that could melt ice, "When was the last time you slept?" She asks.

There's the million dollar question. That's always the first thing Julian starts to go without- sleep. Like he thinks he's superhuman, and can just keep on going without it. Miles has known him to go days at a time without a wink of shuteye. He wouldn't be surprised if this is one of those times.

Julian looks at Keiko. "I don't know," He tells her, his voice very quiet, "I... I honestly don't know."

Even Miles can't keep up his usual attitude when Julian's like this. He sounds so goddamn tired and he looks even worse, with those big doe eyes of his all sad and pathetic.

"It's alright, Julian," He finds himself saying, a whole lot softer than he usually is, "Molly's got a big party all day, she won't be back till tomorrow. So you'll have plenty of time to catch up on your sleep here." He gives his hand a reassuring pat.

"You're only going to make it worse by not resting," Keiko adds, bringing her hand up to his cheek, "I know resting doesn't come easy to you, but promise me you'll at least try, ok?" She rubs her thumb affectionately over his cheekbone, "Promise me you'll let us take care of you?" She implores him.

Miles knows this game of Keiko's well. Nobody is immune to it. He's over here melting, and he's not even her target. Sure enough, Julian is cracking a smile. A small one, weak and watery, but a smile nonetheless.

"That's cheating," He accuses, his voice gone soft, "You know I can't say no when you do that."

Keiko gives him a smile of her own, a smile that could rival a sunrise. "That's exactly why I do it." She teases. Then she leans in, and gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

If Julian's face wasn't already flushed with fever, he's certainly blushing now, his cheeks going deep cherry red. "Miles." He says.

"Yeah?" Miles asks.

"I'm running away with your wife." Julian informs him, which makes Keiko snort and laugh.

"Not without me, you're not," Miles chuckles, giving Julian a playful nudge, careful to keep it light so he doesn't accidentally knock him over, "You can try that once you're all better. Until then, I'm not lettin' you outta my sight till you're better, ya hear?"

Julian looks over at him, still blushing, still smiling. "Loud and clear," He hums, "Do you have a kiss to go with that statement, or do I have to ask Keiko for another?"

Miles rolls his eyes. Keiko giggles. "At least you can still be obnoxious," He huffs. Even so, he does lean in and give Julian a quick peck on the temple, "There. Only cause you're sick." He tells him.

Julian's smile broadens into something resembling a grin. "You love me." He teases.

"Yes," Keiko leans in, gives Julian another kiss, this one landing high on his cheekbone, "We love you. And because we love you, we're going to take care of you," She gives Julian's shoulder a pat, "So you just lay back, and let us do the worrying for once, alright?"

Julian looks between them. And it's a subtle shift, but that mischievous grin softens, and turns into something much more affectionate and sincere. "I love you, too." He says to both of them, all sap and sweetness.

"Yeah, you're alright." Miles says, which gets him a laugh from Julian and an indignant swat from Keiko. What can he say, he's never been the best with all this sappy stuff.

Besides, they both know how he feels. He doesn't have to say it. He's never had to say it. They just know.

[abimee]

For what it's worth, I've been following you for a few years and I do think your skills as an artist have grown. You've seem to get more confident in the way you build the human body and face, your coloring has gotten more complex, and in general I feel like I've watched you settle more and more into a defined and unique art style.

I know it can be frustrating to not see the growth or changes you want but it does break my heart to see you be so harsh on yourself. I think you're genuinely extremely skilled and I always looked up to you as an artist, even when I was going through art school myself. I feel like you have a way of capturing people that's just so emotional and lovely and I want to see more of it in my own art, though I've been struggling to capture the same vibes too...

It's also never too late to pick up or try out something new, to find new skills or return to old ones. I loved the fics you posted, your prose is wonderful, and the way you speak about your characters is so thoughtful. It does hurt to feel like you've lost out on the time to do something, but please don't give up completely. I think you have a lot of genuine skill and talent and it'd be lovely to see you take it in any direction. Regardless of where the future takes you, I hope you have a nice day.

THANK YOU.... THAT MEANS A LOT TO ME TO HEAR.....

ive been like, trying to mull it over in my head because sometimes what i think is one way might sometimes morph into another and idk i dont think its its a dislike for my own art but like a sort of external critic ive decided to consume thats trying to sway me one way. i hate to be like ''the support i got on my art when i was younger was sort of really bad for me'' but maybe the years of being pushed To be an artist by adults and people around me saying they like my art only when its X or Y thing has like made me prey to feeling like im drawing not for myself. like i failed the expectations put on me and i dont have the chance to ''re-do''

maybe i just need to like reconsider what i like drawing or try smthn new that isnt like. hinged on this idea in my head that i need to keep peoples attention or what support i have because like. thats another fear is always like ''what if all these people who say they like my art one day just stop and im left alone'' but thats a different plate of cookies for a different glass of milk. i think i just need to figure out what I personally want out of my art and stop hinging everything on years-old circumstances

but then at the same time i dont really have any idea what i would want to do differently, i really like what i draw now but idk maybe theres something else for me in some way. i think im worried of just alienating people so used to one thing from me that changing that will just feel wrong. not really in like art style or anything but just like What i draw. i feel like ive always kept to the same concepts and ideas and imagrey that changing it will be strange or worse. but maybe i do just have to make that chance and not be so scared 😞

[burymeinwillow]

Everytime I draw Joe Cartwright I get overwhelmed with the desire to only ever draw Joe

[fictionadventurer]

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