#what is the quickest growing tree

[nipuni]

Hello time to yap about life and media again! 🥰

It's been a month and a half since we fully moved into this new old house and it's been a steep learning curve!! so far we had to learn how to care for a garden and grow fruit, how to deal with extremely humid weather, the mold!! also learning about various repairs, electricity and plumbing, we had a leak that turned one lamp into a waterfall, the rcd keeps tripping every time it rains, had to fix a door in the dark after Nicolas got himself trapped in a room when the handle broke during a power outage, the heating system is an air to water heat pump and it took us ages to figure out how to set it up correctly so we spent weeks wearing 3 layers inside the house, I even fell down the stairs!! I'm not used to having stairs inside the house lmao It's a big adjustment when you've always lived in small apartments in big cities all your adult life, but to be honest we love it!! everything feels like a new quest for us to tackle and it is so much fun figuring it all out as we go, reading technical manuals by candle light, the teamwork of installing and assembling furniture and networks, pruning the trees, celebrating every small mundane accomplishment and new skill learned every night over dinner, I may be corny as hell but it all feels like a privilege and an adventure 😭

Media wise we watched the second season of Arcane! This series never fails to make me fall in love with art again, not that I've ever fallen out but I can't say that the whole AI debacle hasn't been ass for the morale. Aesthetically it is a masterpiece. The character design, the cinematography, the mixed media montages aaaa Seeing the work, the skill and care that was put into every frame reminded me of how important and human the storytelling aspect of art really is. I wonder if we will see a shift to the more story driven or conceptual arts when we look back on this period, but I ramble, back to Arcane. I have mostly praise for it, wonderful characters and very touching relationships. I think our only issues were with the pacing being too slow at the start, every character climbing out of a very low point, and then too fast which made the second half feel a bit rushed. This season also felt a bit more tropey than the first one but still really solid. It remains one of the best animated series ever made and I am so happy to see it succeed in this current environment 😭 It feels like teenagehood condensed into a show, we really enjoyed it. I hope we get a season 3!!

Also there was an update in our David Tennant filmography quest! we watched The Politician's Husband and unsurprisingly we loved it!! It was gripping and the acting was brilliant. It is actually what I was expecting Rivals to be like, I realize 🤔 I think it could have used a 4th episode, felt like it ended too quickly and there was room for more, as if they ran out of time to tie things up so they picked the quickest route. But it was really good!! These miniseries are always so engaging and so short, I need mooreee.

We missed our DT nights!! Nicolas spent the last week hunting for more of David's work for us to watch. We've been hosting family for a few days again last week and on top of work and everything else we had to pause them for a bit. But now we are back to our nightly routine and he's over the moon!! Instant mood boost it's embarrassing lmao both of us falling this hard for this guy is too enabling, he even made his name our guest wifi password, we are besotted 😂

Oh! I also I saw a Veilguard Q&A was happening and read a few replies I saw posted here, and it proved to be a huge mistake! It was a disappointing and truly infuriating read. What even happened during the production of this game lmao How come the average fan seems to have a much better grasp on the lore, characters and plot than the people who made it 😭 There is this gaping disconnect between intent and execution. The way that fans are trying to make sense and give meaning to the complete mess that is the writing in an attempt to salvage and preserve the aspects they loved about it is saddening. I am mentally throwing tomatoes at John Epler as we speak. His answers felt so unserious and baffling at best and offensive and petty at worst. It's been eye opening, I could go on a two hour rant but the more I learn and dwell on it the more bitter I become about it all and I'm already seeing ten year old discourse resurface and people getting weird about it so I'll just ..🚶‍♀️ In my eyes this world and it's characters now belong only to those who love it and lives in my memory 🫡

Anyway, this ended up being at least twice as long as I was planning to make it again 😭 and I still have to catch up with asks aaaa it's been a busy month sorry I'll get to them soon!! Thank you for reading and for the support and for just being here!! I hope you all have a great week 🥺❤️

[balrogballs]

Of One Blood

A @whiteoliphaunt white calf fill for @maglor-my-beloved, featuring Fëanor, his grandson Elrond, The Jungle Book, storytelling, and a quiet moment in Fourth Age Valinor.

My heart is heavy with the things I do not understand.

Rudyard Kipling, The Jungle Book

The rain came down relentlessly, soaking Elrond’s cloak until it clung to his neck like a toddler. Around him, the earth softened, forgot itself little by little and gave way — sand rising to claim his boots, puddles pooling in every step. The trees bent, their leaves glistening and turning this way and that as though caught crying. Elrond could feel the water slipping under his collar, tracing cold lines down his back, and for a moment, he considered just standing there, letting the rain wash him into something smaller, quieter, easier to carry around. Instead, he knocked on Fëanor’s door.

“Peredhel?” he frowned, eyes widening at the state the former lord was in, hair clinging to his cheeks, frost making white lines on his brows. Fëanor pulled him into the hallway, clicking his teeth and hissing. “What in… Elrond, it is pissing it down!”

“Biggest rainstorm Tirion’s seen in decades,” Elrond gave a wavering laugh, genuine if frothy, shaken between his rattling teeth. “They’re battening down the hatches at home.”

“And you are here, instead of battening down the hatches alongside them because?” Fëanor huffed, pulling across a towel, clicking his teeth in mild disapproval (not because he didn’t want Elrond there, but because Elrond clearly walked all the way from Tirion to the sea in this downpour, which is not something the average Normal Elf would do). He shoved Elrond down into an armchair and began towelling his hair vigorously.

“Ouch — Daerada!” came the muffled voice. “Leave it! I can — ouch! You’ve just pulled out a —“

“Get a grip, Elrond. I had seven sons and none of them went bald,” said Fëanor shortly, ignoring Elrond’s protests with the practiced air of, well, someone who had seven sons. “Now, tell me why you’re here.”

“Because your house is salty.”

Fëanor blinked, ceasing his ministrations with the towel in his confusion: “apologies, but what did you call my house?”

Elrond considered explaining that it wasn’t because the beach house on the shores of Aman Fëanor and Nerdanel had taken up in order to avoid said seven sons (well, the three youngest and quickest to re-embodiment), their progeny, and their irritating little problems, was salty. Not directly at least. It was only that the saltiness of it reminded him of Maglor’s cottage by the Havens in Middle Earth, where he still lived.

Everything in that house had been sharp, brined by the air itself. Salt crusted along windowpanes, dusted the floors like an uneasy frost, and clung to the cracks in the wooden beams. Anything left too long — shoes, tools, books, Elrond — was kissed by it, worn and bitten as if the sea had reached in to mark its territory. The air stung with it, tasting of sweat and tears, and the walls seemed to sweat as the house endured the Ages. Nothing in the house by the sea was soft; even silence had an edge there. And that was why Maglor had read him stories on the stillest nights even on visits when Elrond was six thousand years old — to take the edge off that silence, dull it enough to lull him to sleep.

He didn’t know how to explain that was what he craved: that he hadn’t slept in days, and he wanted to hear one of Maglor’s stories. Even though he was seven thousand now — young and spry enough to walk from Tirion, but too old to long for beaches and bedtime stories. No, not just any bedtime story but that one. The one with the best line which crept in towards the end, when he and Elros were closer to sleep than wakefulness. He didn’t know how to explain this to Fëanor, mainly because it wasn’t exactly the done thing to suddenly grow a grandfather after six thousand five hundred years, let alone ask him to tell you a story. Still, it would be better than Fëanor assuming that Elrond walked for a day and a half to lick his walls, like a very persistent goat.

“I only wished to know…” Elrond began, flushing as Fëanor finally put down the towel and shoved a piping hot mug of cider into his hands, almost growling at how cold the half-elf’s fingers were. “Whether you knew that story. About the animals. The children’s story. Maglor used to say you knew it, that — that it was you who first told it to him.”

Fëanor shook his head, somehow even more confused by the explanation than the situation. He sank down next to his get-one-free grandson, wondering whether insufferable eccentricity ran in Thingol’s line or whether it was a learned trait. He decided to humour him.

“What story?”

Elrond smiled across at him, and put on a deep, maleficent voice, like what a tiger might sound like had tigers possessed the power of speech:

“Ye choose, and ye do not choose!” he cried, causing Nerdanel to poke her head in from the next door, roll her eyes, and slink back. “What talk is this of choosing? By the bull that I killed, am I to stand nosing into your dog’s den for my fair dues? It is I, Shere Khan, who speaks!”

A sudden lump rose in Feänor’s throat. Oh, Elrond.

He didn’t say anything of it. Fëanor sat in silence, looking at the slow disappointment crawl across Elrond’s face, until it got too much for him to bear. Fëanor jumped up from the couch, spread his arms before the fire, casting a long, dark shadow across the room (Nerdanel, watching from the doorway, stifled a snort).

“And it is I, Raksha The Demon, who answers!” he all but roars, striding back and forth, all six-foot-three of him turned into a snarling she-wolf. He bared his teeth, snapped them. “The man’s cub is mine now — mine to me! He shall not be killed. He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter of little naked cubs — frog-eater — fish-killer — he shall hunt thee!”

Elrond’s eyes widened. Lips trembling all of a sudden, he buried his head in his hands as his grandfather, panting and laughing a little, sat back down beside him. Fëanor waited patiently as Elrond sat very still, waited and watched the fire roar ever higher until he finally sat up, wiping his face on his sleeve, clearing his throat.

“What sin have I committed, Eru, that not one person in my very large family has heard of a handkerchief,” sighed Fëanor, dispelling the tension by dropping one in Elrond’s lap. “Please blow your nose before I cut it off your face.”

“Sorry,” Elrond said thickly, laughing as well. It’s funny — he knows Fëanor has been called every adjective under the sun, accused of everything from arrogance to zealotry, but few touch on his biggest descriptor: a perpetual father of seven. “Sorry, I was only… impressed. That you remembered that by-heart.”

“Of course I know it,” Fëanor shook his head. “I know every damn bedtime story there is to know, and a thousand others that haven’t been written yet. It’s not impressive, it’s an occupational hazard of having seven sons.”

“Still, it’s impressive,” Elrond said, and then paused for a long moment. “Though I cannot believe you know all of this. Absolutely not.”

“No?” Fëanor frowned sharply at Elrond, before his face softened in understanding. “Is that what you think, then? What if I… demonstrate? Though no prowling around the room again, my bones are too old for such nonsense.”

“Do I look five?” Elrond looked mortified. “Did I ask you to prowl anywhere? But… yes. A demonstration, perhaps. I’d like that.”

“Just to make sure I know it, hm?”

“You can never be sure.”

Fëanor settled back on the long couch, watching Elrond sip his cider. And then he closed his eyes, and began reciting the story he had told seven thousand times to seven boys, one of whom clearly told the same story to his two boys: now Rann the kite brings home the night, that Mang the bat sets free!

Elrond listened to the story for the first time in, oh, how long has it been? Since he sailed, yes. Since Maglor. Fëanor’s voice surrounded him like warmth rising from a hearth. It wasn’t the story he heard really, but the cadence, that familiar lift and fall, wrapping around him in a way no fire could quite manage. The rain lingered on his skin, insistent, but his grandfather’s voice smoothed it away, filling the space with bears, wolves, tigers, alive, alive, alive. It was almost like it was with Maglor, in the cottage by the sea. How even between the words, the silence held its breath, no longer oppressive but tender, until Elrond himself melded into it, another animal crouching low to watch the jungle tell its story. He sat still, unmoving.

It was not a stillness that waited for a shattering, but one that lulled him to the half-asleep state he was in when Fëanor got to the part he and Elros used to wait eagerly for Maglor to get to. The part where Fëanor pressed his hand to his own chest, and then Elrond’s, and said very softly and intently: we be of one blood, ye and I.

And as Fëanor’s voice went on and on, Elrond fell asleep right there on the couch, safe in the knowledge that even if the story stopped, the echo of his Daerada’s voice would remain. Of course it would, woven as it was into the walls, into the cottage in the Havens, into the air, into Elrond himself, into the stories he told his own children, and into the stories they told theirs.

Fin.

I don’t love Kipling, but have a pervasive headcanon that Maglor used to tell (an in-universe version of it, that is) The Jungle Book stories to Elrond and Elros, and have mentioned it in other stories. This was a fun opportunity to explore that, and think about stories that carry on through generations. Hope you enjoy the fill, happy new year, and of course, thank you @minubell for running this!

[theothernads]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ ❛❛ ᶜʰᵃᵖᵗᵉʳ ⁶ : 𝐎𝐇, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐘𝐎𝐔⁉️ ❞ ᯓᡣ𐭩

♡ྀི ₊ ❛❛𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬❞ ☰

SYNOPSIS: ₊˚⊹♡ : ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

With the third magical academic year starting, you and Jungwon plan to have a normal school year and complete many goals. Except, you have to earn Enchantix with your frequent burn-outs, and Jungwon wants to become a full-fledged warrior and push past his anxiety. With their own goals in mind, they feel like 2 idiots that keep meeting by chance. However, when mysterious events threaten the magical kingdoms and schools, the specialists and fairies have to figure out the culprit and save the magical universe. But fate has other plans for their adventures and for your ‘coincidental’ meeting with Jungwon.

𝖸𝖺𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗐𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

╰┈➤𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗 (comment or give an ask) 𐙚

Wc: 3.1 k

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━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

THE NEXT WEEK CAME FASTER THAN EXPECTED. You were totally ready to head out to the forest, making sure to gear up. The journal in your hands protruded with sticky notes, accompanied by creased corners and a small bookmark detailing the last page you visited.

You and the girls made sure to wear the appropriate attire — trousers and full-length sleeved top tainted a dull cream colour. And sensible trainers to trek through the nature's path.

You had only been to Black Mud Swamp twice, and that was all in the last year. The tranquillity in nature's sussurations and the zephyr that weaved through slews of emerald leaves was a key memory that composed you.

Palladium allowed everyone to split into groups, giving the task of collecting specific plants scattered about the woods. An assignment to further everyone's scavenger skills.

"Okay, what do we need to do then?" Minji asked as she leaned against a random bark of a tree. Right now, you and the girls had separated from the majority of the second and third years, claiming a spot a few metres away.

"Reconnect with nature?" Hanni said, purposely shooting a look to Haerin, who simply gave a blank stare of indifference. The girl did not really care about her uninterest in the outside world.

"No, we have to find some materials, check them off our list and get back to Palladium the quickest," Dani explained, standing beside you with a little notepad in her hand. Hyein and Hanni groaned.

"And where are we supposed to find those? There was no manual when we came here," complained Hyein, making the others and you giggle. Shaking your head, you spoke.

"Well, I am a nature fairy so..." You trailed off, holding up the paper listing the different flora needed to be captured. It should be easy enough since you had seen these before and made meticulous notes upon them in your journal on previous occasions.

"Okay, miss flower girl, show us where to go," Haerin said with a sly and cheeky smile.

That's how the group ended up splitting: Minji and you; Dani and Haerin; Hanni and Hyein. You set them off to specific directions and told them the signs of each plant being spotted by making them write down in their own notepads.

Right now, you and Minji sauntered carefully over some stinging stems, careful not to let the thorns graze skin.

"Are we getting closer?" Minji whined, holding onto your arm as your eyes focused on the open journal before you. You hummed absentmindedly as you focused on the first item of the list.

Bell vines — it was a long stem of bell-shaped pink and white flowers growing from them, usually curved around branches and solid tree trunks.

They happened to be where sunlight was scarce, causing the vines to grow up trunks and trees. It only led you and Minji deeper into the forest.

"Yn, I see them!" Minji squealed, making you look up to see a clearing where few streams of sunlight seeped through the leaves and lit up the bell flowers on the vines. As expected, they coiled around a crooked branch.

"Ugh... but there are way too many stinging stems here," she grimaced, looking down at the mixed foliage. You held her arm and urged her to stay right where she was.

"I'll go. I can see which ones are normal. You stay," you said, already stepping forward before she could even pull you back. Minji muttered something about being careful, but you were in your element.

Stepping over the twigs and mixture of moss and grass for a few metres, you finally reached the bell vines hung around a low branch. When you looked behind to let Minji know, she was concealed by the burly trunks. It didn't matter now because you finally got at least one item.

With your journal under your arm, you intended to stretch your palm to the tipping branch, the bell vines ever so close to your fingertips when a mystical whisper shadowed your ears and a rustle froze your limbs.

"On your right... look!"

It wasn't the first time the trees talked to you, but it still startled you whenever you ventured out randomly to take a walk or get a fresh breath of air. But with this message, confusion — possibly, fear— wrapped around your thoughts like vines.

It wasn't uncommon for the swamp to be crawling with creatures, but the thought of actually confronting one made the goosebumps prickle your skin. It would be greatly unlucky if that ever happened.

Logically, you had to be prepared. So, with your journal in one hand, your other demanded the magic to stream to your fingers, to charge your blood, and be at the ready when you faced your right.

An undeniable rustle surged from behind the spots of trees, and the voices whispering by your ears grew stronger.

"There, there! Behind the third tree!"

You turned your body fully, not knowing what tree was talked about. The details were just so helpful and made you roll your eyes.

With a shaky breath, your hand was raised, ready to throw a spell, the simmering anxiety rising up to your chest. What on Magix was going on?

Just as you took a step forward, cracking a twig, a flash of pattern hit you with a sharp force, anchoring you to the ground; you yelped, releasing the spell from your hand in a random direction.

God knows if you even hit your target.

When you opened your eyes, horror hit you as you found yourself blanketed by a net. A whole damn net. That wouldn't even move when you tried to untangle yourself and push it off you.

This was not good. Not what you planned when you had your first trip of the third year of school. How fucking great. Panicked hands clawed at the net when you heard a raucous meow.

And another meow, more panicked and bewildered more than anything. Your eyes flickered forward after lifting your head only to see a black fur ball emerging from the bushes and trees.

It moved tentatively on its feet, as if clumsy and afraid, feline ears flattening in slight panic, yellow eyes darting around in alarm. Beside it, a gun of some sort with a large barrel large enough for a net to shoot out from.

The cat walked towards you, meowing profusely as you tried to kick and lift the net from you. This was oh so embarrassing — one, because you even got caught in a net; two, you can't even lift it off you.

A shaky breath left you as you attempted to pull the magic to your fingers again, but you felt the dryness in you. Of course you couldn't conjure it when you truly needed it.

Footsteps faded in behind you, some panicked voices that were too deep to be your friends, and some you recognised to be the girls. Craning your head backwards, the sight of Minji and Dani soothed the igniting bewilderment.

Except that wasn't all — about 6 boys entered the scene as well from the direction that the cat came from, all muttering and conversing until they saw you trapped underneath the net. Judging from the blue and navy body suits, you guessed they were specialists. It didn't help the unpleasant humiliation that curled around you.

Looks of confusion were exchanged between the girls and boys.

Everything was silent for a moment before a tall boy with headphones tilted his head at your struggling sight. "Call me crazy, but isn't that hyung's net?"

"Shut up, Riki."

"No, he has a point," said a boy with a sharp jawline, eyes and black hair as he stared at your helpless and restless state.

Hanni stepped forward, hand on her hip as she pointed to you. "Can someone get her out then?"

They seemed to snap out of it as one boy with two pretty moles on his face, and full lips rushed forward, bending down to you and meeting your gaze.

He was utterly gorgeous and forced your lungs to stop working for a moment. Pale skin, kind brown eyes as he tapped on the spheres dangling from the ends of the net and manoeuvred the net off you. It felt easier to breathe.

When he helped you get up, his warm hands hoisted you up in one go by your forearms, and you had to stop yourself from finding that incredibly attractive.

"Are you okay?" He asked with that deep voice of his. You blinked, finding him increasingly familiar, but you didn't want to stare. You nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine—"

An agitated meow broke through, causing everyone to look at the black cat approaching everyone, eyes narrowing as it glanced at the boys. The girls gave each other glances, and you finally understood what happened before a net was plunged at you. You gasped slightly.

"Oh... I must have spelled him," you muttered guiltily.

"Oh, yn." Minji said, restraining a chuckle. You shot her a glare.

"Turn him back," Hyein simply said, stepping forward as she knelt beside the cat. The awkwardness hit you and made you tense slightly. Oh, how easy that sounds if you felt even a small static connection of magic. Right now, you couldn't.

Giving a look to the girls, they understood your predicament, and muted grey flowers of guilt sprouted on the sides of your hair.

Some of the guys approached the cat, one with wine-purple hair, and smiled wickedly.

"Is that our maknae? Meow once for 'no', and two for 'yes'," he said. The one with glasses erupted with laughter as the cat hissed at him, ears flattening instantly.

"Heeseung hyung, I think it is."

You sighed, thinking of what to even say when another familiar voice called out to you, excited. When you turned, it was Leerae, her own little bag perched on her hip, wearing the same outer attire.

A smile adorned her face but gave way to confusion when she saw you standing before the cat, the one growing more aggravated, clumsily walking in circles.

"Oh, what happened?" She asked as she came up to you. At that, the cat meowed louder, ears flattening in irritation.

This was even more embarrassing. You had already been struggling in class, and now, the one popular person you're acquainted with has to see this.

Awkwardly rubbing your arm, you peered at the cat pawing at the ground, still bewildered by its anatomy. Anyone would be if they were suddenly attacked and turned into a feline animal. You felt remorse for whoever you hit.

Leerae walked up to the cat, kneeling so her hand hovered over the fur ball's head, her eyes closed. Everyone stilled as light glowed from her hands, ribbons of pure shimmers streaming around the cat until she stepped back, allowing the globe of light to morph.

In awe, you observed how the glow transfigured to resemble a boy, now standing up, the shimmers giving way to features.

He looked way too familiar — the black, wavy hair, honey skin, and feline eyes. That's when it hit you.

The dude that gave you his shirt at the party when he spilt a drink down your white dress. Your eyes were stuck on him, drawn to him.

Jungwon looked down at his hands, pleased it wasn't paws, At least he was back in his navy body suit, the familiar gloves tugged over his knuckles.

But then, he glimpsed at you, at loss for words, and he couldn't think of anything else. The realisation flickered to life as he saw your regretful but observant expression.

"It's... you?" You exclaimed, more grey flowers blooming in your hair, bewildering Jungwon slightly. But he straightened himself and stepped forward slightly.

"Yeah..." Jungwon said breathlessly, staring at your features in the light. From the party, both you and him could see each other more clearly in contrast to the dark, crimson lanterns at the party.

He was able to preserve how your eyes blinked at him, the curve of your nose. The fact that he was shamelessly staring didn't register to him until Jake stepped up.

"Jungwon, do you have no manners? How could you net a girl?" He exclaimed, fixing his glasses with a small smile. Jungwon knew he was teasing him, but he genuinely thought he was capturing a creature.

Not a whole being.

"Yeah, and Jungkook's little sister," one of them muttered again, making the anxiety and embarrassment prickle your skin.

"I'm sorry for turning you into a cat," you mumbled to him, gaze downcast as embarrassment glittered in your gaze.

The way you avoided his eyes made a small blossom of endearment sprout, heck maybe a small smile. But Jungwon stopped himself when he remembered he shot a net at you and was yet to deliver an apology.

"No, I'm sorry for hitting you with a net," Jungwon said, looking down as well to see a brown and tattered book by your feet. Kneeling down, he clutched the journal full of sticky notes and bent corners.

Glancing back, he handed the journal over in a way to exchange more apologies. You took it gratefully, the humiliation burning your cheeks as you quietly thanked him.

Hanni snorted behind you, forcing you to glare back at her over your shoulder.

"What's so funny, Hanni?" You asked her with an edge of suspicion. She was smiling a little, mischief sparkling in her gaze.

Probably because she had caught you yearning over this dude on your tweets. But, how can she blame you when the boy looked so divine and sculpted carefully by God himself?

"Nothing."

The boys looked at each other when they saw Hanni and Minji smirking and then looked back to Jungwon, a knowing look in their eye. Jungwon saw and shot them a glower for the wicked smiles on their faces.

Leerae watched with the others as you dusted off your trousers and your journal.

"You still haven't returned my shirt," Jungwon began saying, making you glance up in embarrassment. You know the girls are dying to tease you right now, and judging by the extra pair of male eyes, you know they want to tease him as well.

"I have washed it. It's just... you know, drying. I promise," you rambled nervously, trying not to sound as if you were hoarding it to feel to the fabric. Jungwon betrayed a small smile.

"It's fine. Take your time."

Gratitude was an understatement. You would loathe it if he thought you were an unorganised girl with no respect for other people's clothes. Your mind was spinning with all those scenarios.

It only made you more eager to return the clothing to him to get rid of the debt you had to him.

"Time to get going, Jungwon." Heeseung announced to the boy, fiddling with the hilt of his dagger.

Jungwon — that's his name? You have seen his face twice and didn't even ask the first time. How absurd of you.

"Yeah, I know, Heeseung hyung," Jungwon replied, retreating to where his net gun was, picking it up with ease. You decided to help him by picking up the discarded net and sauntering to him.

"Sorry... about all this," you said quietly, cheeks heating up again, holding out the heavy net.

Jungwon smiled softly, the look reassuring your composure and repressing the humiliation a little. He reached out to take it, his gloved fingers brushing yours.

A single spark ignited in your knuckles, your eyes naturally drifting up to his brown ones. Warm and sparkling with this serenity and harmony that he radiated just from his gaze.

Just as you were about to exchange the net to him, bushes rustled, harsh footsteps marched towards the scene, and a sharp voice called out to you.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Abruptly turning your head, you came face-to-face with Jungkook storming over with two other boys trailing in behind him.

Jungwon tensed and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

A sceptical look was given to you before he ripped the net out of your hands, and (aggressively) dumped it in Jungwon's clutches. Jungwon's eyes were wide as saucers as he gave a tight-lipped look, stepping back instinctively.

Sighing internally, you turned to Jungkook. "What are you doing here?"

Jungkook scoffed and crossed his arms as if you asked a stupid question. Jungwon physically shrunk back, retreating to the rest of his friend group.

"Doing the assignment, unlike Mr Handsy over there." Jungkook jerked his head in Jungwon's bewildered direction. In your honest opinion, your brother was just embarrassing you even more. Nudging his arm, you delivered a glare yourself.

"Can you calm down for one damn second? I didn't know you were also out here," you snapped at him. The girls were unfazed by your automatic bickering, but the boys stared in awe.

They always feared Jungkook but seeing you — his baby sister — glaring and chastising him felt abnormal and a little... amusing.

Jungkook nudged you back but harder, causing you to yelp. "Well, I didn't think I needed to tell you I'm having an assignment."

"You didn't. I'm just surprised." You crossed your arms, eyes flickering to Jungwon, who was haphazardly stuffing his net back into his gun. Jungkook followed your gaze to him, and the boy shrunk his gaze.

The rest of his friends kind of cackled, but in a quieter tone.

"Stop glaring for no reason. I was giving back his net," you said quietly, discreetly as you tried to calm whatever negativity he was sending to Jungwon. The poor boy looked like he could shit his pants.

"Why did you have his net?" Jungkook inquired again in front of everyone. You resisted the urge to face palm your head and sighed.

If you told your brother that Jungwon accidentally hit you with a net, mistaking you for a creature...

It was a thought you wouldn't rather advance on, and a white lie would be better in this situation.

"He dropped it," you muttered. Jungwon breathed in relief. One of the boys had to press a palm to his mouth to suppress the smile.

"Dropped it? From a net gun?" Jungkook turned his gaze to Jungwon, who was flushing pink in the ears at this point, anxiety glittering in his averted eyes. "He's more worse than I thought."

"Jungkook—"

"I'm kidding," he said gruffly.

No, he wasn't.

You rolled your eyes and walked back to the girls and Leerae, journal in hand, and with one last glance back to Jungwon.

Turns out, he was already looking at you with those warm, sparkling eyes.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᥫ᭡.━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

<< M.LIST >>

[NOTES]: This took so long to damn well write. Sorry about that. Anyway, MHJ has apparantly resigned - we cheered, BUT idk what the girls are going to do now. So, I hope they find the truth and kind of make a decision best for them and reflect the right thing to do. REBLOGS, COMMENTS + LIKES are appreciated <3

☰ TAGS: Winx Club smau, enhypen smau, slow-ass burn fic, violence, action and adventure, angst, college smau, fantasy au, strangers to lovers

© 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗱𝘀

━━━━━━━━━━━━━˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱‧₊˚━━━━━━━━━━━━━

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊[TAGLIST]: @dreamiestay @melancholy-z @n1k1mura @wensurr @jiiyen @jwonistic

[antlerclxws]

Do you know what it means to be loved by Death? || Charminghearts Vampire AU PT. 2

To say that Chloe felt like she was paranoid was an understatement, probably the biggest mistake she could make was thinking she wasn’t being followed. The amount of winding trees or blindingly dark paths did nothing to quell the fear steadily growing in her heart.

Chad and her father’s voice had faded out what felt like hours ago, the only noise left was the crunching of rocks under her boots and— She swore she could hear the branches bend under someone’s weight!

It brought her to a standstill, Chloe’s eyes darting up and studying the treetops above her. “Hello?” She couldn’t stop herself from calling out, her brows knitted into a look of confusion on her face, Her father said she was going to be fine- This wasn’t fine.

Her feet spun her in circles, never staying focused on one spot for more than a few minutes before she was turning to look at the next tree, the next branch, the next anything.

She couldn’t see the girl in the tree, watching her with eyes straight out of a horror movie. It was comical.

Red was watching her- had been watching her for the past hour or so. She was curious, rarely had she ever seen someone past the point of ‘no return’ as she’s heard her mother call it. The quick shift of the trees from comforting brown to

She stifled a laugh when Chloe called out to thin air, only for the sound to become choked as she felt the branch bend next to her and she scrambled to keep her footing.

Her glare came before her words, not wanting the blue haired hunter beneath her to hear. “Don’t do that!” Red spat out, a useless attempt at a scolding for the vampire next to her, who seemed too enthralled with Chloe’s presence to even acknowledge the girl. She snapped in front of their face angrily, grumbling under her breath as the gaze never faltered.

“She hasn’t done anything, wait.” Red commanded without much thought, shifting the way she sat on the branch so she could lean back and catch herself, hanging by the branch for barely a second before she dropped off and hit the ground.

The vampire had followed suit, landing almost as quietly as Red did, causing her to roll her eyes and bite back another scold.

Before Red could get another word out, a flash of black zipped past her in what practically looked like unhinged desperation. Red could feel her throat go dry at the moment she realized what the other vampire was set on doing.

It was the quickest moment imaginable, bodies hitting bodies with the strength of a brute, sending Chloe and the vampire to the ground with a shriek from the young hunter. It was a flurry of limbs and what looked only like the claws of a cat to any passerby, only proved otherwise by the sudden scream that was let out.

Red felt frozen in her spot, unable to do anything but just watch.

Chloe wasn’t expecting it- who would? She hit the ground before she could even comprehend the situation, head knocking against the cobblestone road with a dull thud. She squirmed immediately, eyes wide as the vampire above her swatted and grabbed at any part of Chloe they could reach.

Nails dragged against skin, feeling like razors as it sliced open her forearms and shoulders, Chloe could feel the tears in her eyes slip down her cheeks when the stinging grew too overwhelming.

“No-!” Was the only thing she could say, coming out almost like a sob as her hands pushed and prodded at the vampire, fruitless attempts to push the creature off of her. “Please- Don’t!” Chloe pleaded, although not knowing why she even was in the first place. It never seemed to work- Chad’s told her that in about a billion different stories. It still didn’t stop the girl from trying.

The vampire only laughed, a quiet sound quickly overshadowed by Chloe’s growing sobs. They leaned down, lips now pressed to the shell of her ear as they breathed out agonizingly slowly.

“You shouldn’t have come here then.” They said, with a gravelly tone that made Chloe want to sob again.

Was this how she was going to die?

“It was a mistake!” She cried out softly, still fighting despite the blood that trickled down her arms, some dropped onto her face, smearing with the hurried movements as she fought back.

“I didn’t know!” Chloe insisted, much to the vampire’s amusement, who only laughed again.

“Mistakes happen when you trip over a branch, not when you run into hunting grounds with this!” They snapped suddenly, tugging at the dagger in her holster before it was free and they held it up. “This.. doesn’t feel like a mistake, does it, hun?” They spoke in an almost condescending way, making her shake her head even if she didn’t know what she was refusing, Chloe was panicking, choosing every option that showed even a hint of hope.

Blood continued to flow, almost as if egged on by the growing hunger Chloe knew the vampire was feeling by now. She opened her mouth to speak, only to get cut off when the dagger she was gifted glided across the skin of her neck. She threw her head back and suppressed a whimper. “Please.. I’ll leave- I promise- I’ll go home..” The pleading was back again, a reflex of the moment. Chloe just couldn’t keep her damn mouth shut.

She wanted to cry again, ask for forgiveness from the higher gods and the apparent one pinning her down, but she was quickly drawn out of the thought when the weight was shifted off of her faster than she could see.

Red had finally pulled herself into action, running over with speed and force enough to kick the vampire off the girl, a growl leaving her mouth.

“You don’t listen to anything I say!” She snapped and her attention was fixed on the vampire, still holding the dagger and now staring at Red with what looked like unbridled fear. Red stalked forward, watching when the vampire scrambled back as a counter to her movements.

“I say wait, you wait, my mother says wait, you don’t even try it!” She yelled, too angry to do anything but that as she stomped down, pinning the hand with the dagger to the ground just under her boot’s sole.

Red watched the vampire flounder, their eyes wide as they nodded at the vampiress, unsure of what even to say now. Their mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. An almost pitiful sight.

“Okay- Okay! I.. yes, alright!” They pleaded and squirmed, letting the dagger in their hand go when Red finally lifted her boot, scrambling to stand up. They pointed to Chloe after a long moment, “Then you deal with her.” They growled, as if trying to intimidate the Red-haired girl.

Chloe was watching them both with wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly with the panic that didn’t stop growing in her chest.

Red’s attention drifted over to Chloe as the other vampire ran away, her eyes softening as she took in the blood and tears streaming down the blue haired girl’s face. She felt almost bad for the girl, but not bad enough to stop her next actions.

Red kicked the dagger to Chloe quickly before speaking, “You shouldn’t have come around here, especially with what I know you’re doing.”

She couldn’t stop the words from sounding angry, but inexplicably soft, like she was trying to comfort in her own way. Red had never had to deal with this, and it clearly showed.

Chloe nodded, her breathing stuttering a bit as she wiped her face with shaky hands. She didn’t know what Red was planning, but she couldn’t help but start to climb to her feet hurriedly as if waiting for the cue to run.

“M-Mhm..” She stuttered slightly, scooping her dagger up and haphazardly pushing it into her holster again.

Chloe couldn’t help the way her eyes locked onto Red’s, eerily quiet for a moment as she noticed they were red, flecks of gold around the edges in a clear sign Red wasn’t like her- or her family. It was almost hypnotic.

When Chloe was distracted, Red had approached her, arms up as if soothing a wounded animal. She had gotten a few feet closer before Chloe flinched, making her grab the girl’s arms as gently as she could, forcing when she realized there were far more scratches and cuts than she had anticipated.

Red resisted the urge to drop her fangs, sink them into the trembling girl before her.

Chloe sniffled in anxious anticipation, her eyes wide as she watched Red. She couldn’t guess what the vampiress was thinking, and that fact seemed to terrify her. She flinched suddenly when Red brought her own hand to her mouth, nicking her finger on her fangs- fangs? Chloe swallowed thickly at the sight.

Red felt the sting before seeing her own blood, letting it bead up before she moved her finger over Chloe’s arm. She flicked her finger once and watched the blood fall from her skin to the other’s, watching as it flowed deeply into one of the cuts. It took another second before Chloe’s skin started to shift, healing itself as if no harm had ever been done.

The hunter watched with shaky interest before the fear overtook her, limbs flailing slightly as she tore herself out of Red’s grip and turned on her heel faster than both parties could even get a word out.

Chloe took off down the way she came, no other thought in her head except ’Run.’. She didn’t register her own heart’s beating until she was forced to stop, a hand pressed hard into her chest to feel just how much it felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

Chloe ran as fast as she could yet again, not stopping again until her body collided with Chad’s, sending them both tumbling into the dirt.

“Fuck! I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” She apologized quickly, maybe too quickly, given the way Chad was staring at her like she had grown three heads.

She couldn’t remember the conversation that followed their sudden bumping into each other, her mind almost wandering back to Red and her eyes again.

Chloe was torn between fear and sudden intrigue, but it seemed too wrong to be right. She avoided her family’s eyes as they started home, her hands running over the same spot Red’s blood had hit.

This was so stupid, this was not going to end well.

[v3ddirast4r]

I just imagined the Sides playing Stardew Valley, and I have no regrets for what I say.

————————————

Here’s what I think each of them would do:

Logan would probably be playing the game either like a speed run, or just think of profit. He would avoid the dateable NPCs like the plague and barely grow relationships with anyone. He would be only thinking about the tasks and nothing more. Oh, he’s also definitely finish the community center the quickest out of the other sides. He also has the most organized farm, and he’d only go to the festivals where he knows he can get something out of it, like the strawberry seeds from the egg hunt festival. He also would either sleep too early, or pass out at 2:00 AM. No in between.

Patton would be friends with everyone, have full hearts with them all, and would either marry Harvey or Elliott, mostly cus they fit his type. (Cough cough Janus/Logan) The kids would love him, he’d be full hearts with all the animals in the pen, and it would be IMPOSSIBLE for me to not see him without the golden retriever dog. Or the white cat because this is the only game where he can have a car and not be allergic to them. Also, he would avoid the mines like a plague and do all the help wanted requests even if he didn’t have the items right away. I can also see him having a not too organized farm, where 90% of that farm will be saved for animals or be a hot mess, and the 10% just having farmland that’s decently neat after Logan taught him what it could look like for maximum efficiency.

Roman would DEFINITELY have 6 saves with each of the dateable men married on each one. His farm would be AESTHETIC AS HELL with either a shed or a cabin decorated like crazy. He would be in the skull caverns or mines just killing monsters, and he’d be besties with all the female NPCs. He’d be gravitated towards Elliott or Sebastian, and probably join the save with Shane less but would still go because he’d be like “I can FIX HIM!!” Even tho after marriage he goes RIGHT BACK TO SQUARE ONE WITH THIS MAN. After all of that, he’d probably finish the community center after like… maybe year 3 or 4?? And I’m being generous here.

Virgil would choose the Spooky farm, and would ONLY start actively socializing in fall. Only because of the Halloween season. He would avoid all of the NPCs like the plague, and barely want to go to Pierre’s because of social interaction to buy seeds. He’d probably be friends with Abigail and Sebastian, and would definitely develop a crush on either Sam or Alex after maybe year 2- He would also be SUPER anxious about the tasks, sometimes to the point he’d never do them. He’d only go outside to either be in the mines, or on a rainy day. He may also call Elliott a knock off version of Roman, and definitely would say Harvey is Logan. And he would choose any of the cats, but definitely the black one.

Janus would probably say he wouldn’t bother, but would secretly play it for hours after everyone’s gone asleep. His farm would be a mix of Roman’s and Logan’s, with it leaning more towards the Logan side. He would probably call very NPC a knockoff of each of the sides, saying Linus is the closest to Remus but would more so compare him to any hostile mob instead like a slime. He would probably marry either Elliott or Alex, and would probably try to divorce them soon after marriage. He DEFINITELY would cheat his way through occasionally, only to get a loved gift by an NPC, or would get himself extra buffs if he was too lazy. Shit, he’d probably start with the cheats just cus he’d say something like “The start of the game is too slow” or something like that.

Remus…. Oh boy. He would use cheats but use it to get bombs, and explode everything. He also would drink mayo infront of all the NPCs, and gift each of them trash cus he can. He would dig in the trash every single day, and would chop down all the trees. He’d constantly pass out at 2:00 AM, pretty sure he’d be at the Saloon 60% of the time, and would probably romance Sebastian and would make Elliott hate him cus yknow.. he reminds him of Roman.

Y’all can pick the farms they’d most likely pick, but I know Logan would choose the standard farm, Patton would choose the group farm so he could play with the other sides, Roman would maybe choose the meadowlands for the aesthetic, Virgil would choose the Spooky farm, as well as Remus, and Janus would prolly pick the hilltop or forest farm just to say he can be away from everyone.

[seriouslysnape]

Saving a Life

Aesop Sharp x Fem! Student! Reader Tags: None. Word Count: 2.8k “I’m really happy you did.”

꩜꩜꩜꩜

When you came barreling into the classroom, he was sure that something horrible had happened.

He was used to you coming by pretty much any time of day, but when you came rushing in positively panicked and frantic, he knew that something was wrong.

You looked as if you had sprinted all the way from Poidsear Coast based on the way you were barely able to stand. There were beads of sweat scattered across your forehead, despite the frigid January air outside. Your breathing was short and rapid, both from over exertion and emotional turmoil.

This was not normal behavior for you. He found it peculiar, which is why he dropped everything to assist you. He shot up from his chair at his desk, making the quickest strides towards you that his battered leg would allow him to.

Your arms were wrapped around your midsection, clinging to your abdomen for dear life. The expression on your face was particularly concerning, because you looked as if you had just witnessed something unthinkably tragic.

“What’s wrong?” He had asked, his hands gripping the bottom of your forearms as if you’d collapse. “Are you hurt?”

He felt partial relief when you shook your head no, but he still didn’t have an answer for what was happening.

He could feel the chill of your skin through the material of your robes. He couldn’t believe you were out in this weather so severely underdressed. You could’ve at least ditched the robes and put on a coat.

“Are you sick?” He tried again. “Talk to me.”

There was some slight movement underneath your robes, and the way that you had your arms wrapped around yourself made it clear that you were keeping something shielded underneath.

“He’s hurt!” You wailed.

“Who is hurt? What is that?” He asked, making the connection that whatever you had bundled up in your robes was the cause of your stress.

Your right arm freed itself to pull the left side of your robes back. Your left arm was supporting the weight of something, and the sudden exposure to the cold air of the classroom caused it to stir.

You presented a small creature, just barely small enough to fit in one of your palms. It had soft black fur, a long snout, and a fluffy tail. Aesop identified it as a Niffler, and based on its current condition, it wasn’t looking so good.

Its body was curled up in a ball, the muscles on the small animal were constricting and releasing rapidly, causing it to shiver like no tomorrow. It was lethargic and what little voluntary movement it did make was slow and weak — very abnormal behavior for a healthy Niffler.

“It’s a Niffler! I found him at the bottom of a tree up on a mountain.” You cradled its limp frame.

“Nifflers are usually burrowed down this time of the year. I wonder what it was doing all the way up there,” Aesop glanced over the critter. “What in Merlin’s name were you doing up there? And without a coat?”

Quite frankly, Aesop was much more concerned about you getting sick from being outside without a sustainable source of heat. The Niffler was the least of his worries, but it was at the top of your list.

“I was trying out my new Quidditch broom!” You shrilled, growing more upset by the second. “I was only going to be gone for a little while!”

It wasn’t necessarily uncommon to see a Niffler out and about during the winter months of the year, but it certainly was odd to find one so far from the ground.

A Niffler as little as this one would have a hard time traversing out in the open with all the snow and ice on the ground. Nifflers were meant to be underground travelers, and they typically thrived in the warmer months.

“You could’ve at least worn a sweater,” He grumbled under his breath. “What was it doing?”

“He probably escaped a poacher or something,” You rambled, clearly more concerned with the current issue at hand. “Aesop, you have to help him! He was nearly frozen when I picked him up, and he’s not getting any better.”

Aesop realized then that this was a rescue mission. You hadn’t brought this little Niffler all the way here just to show him off (which you had done before with Nifflers and other various beasts), you had brought him to seek help in trying to keep him from becoming a popsicle.

“I have no expertise in this area. Did you try taking it to Professor Howin?” Aesop suggested, clearly not confident in his beast tending abilities.

“I can’t find her! She wasn’t in the classroom and no one knows where she is.” Your voice wavered as if you were on the verge of tears.

This was far beyond Aesop’s skill set. He knew nothing about Nifflers or how to care for them. He certainly didn’t know how to reverse hypothermic shock on one.

“He’s so little, he won’t make it on his own!” You wailed, the tears welling up in your eyes and one more rejection away from spilling.

He knew how passionate you were about beasts. From the smallest Puffskeins to the largest Hippogriffs, you were a lover of all magical critters.

If there was anything that could get you this worked up, it was a beast who needed help.

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin, I have absolutely no training in taking care of wild beasts.” He persisted, but his voice was sympathetic.

That was when the waterworks came, tears leaking from your eyes and spilling down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You trembled all over, both from nearly getting frozen yourself and with fear. You were shaking like a leaf and scared to death for what was going to become of this defenseless little Niffler.

“Aesop, please!” You begged. “He’ll die if you don’t help him!”

He was taken aback by your sudden passion and determination. It was very rare for you to get assertive and even more rare for you to be this desperate for help.

Him giving in to your pleas was mainly because he couldn’t stand to see you so frazzled and upset.

He wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but he had to do something.

“Alright, darling, alright. You must calm down,” He cupped your face in his hands, stroking the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs. “Look, I will…I will do what I can. Now, please — try to relax.”

He didn’t want to be responsible for whether or not this Niffler survived or not. But he supposed that doing nothing was worse.

He took the Niffler from your hands carefully, holding it close to his chest to keep him from losing any more heat. He seriously had no clue where to start, but he was going to do what he could to at least try to save him.

If nothing else, he could get the little guy stable enough to where he could make it to someone who did know what they were doing.

He carried him to his desk, setting him down carefully and with ease. He sat in his chair to get closer to the Niffler, and you were standing next to him.

His main objective first was to get some heat back into the Nifffler’s body…gradually, of course.

“I need your robes. Take them off.”

In better circumstances, you most definitely would’ve made a dirty joke and teased him. But you obliged silently, whipping your robes off of your body and handing them over.

Aesop made a silent note that not only had you failed to wear a coat or sweater, but you were also wearing short sleeves. From now on, he was going to start making you carry hand warmers around.

He properly wrapped the Niffler in your robes, bundling the shivering critter up as much as he could, leaving just his head to be sticking out. He drew his wand, casting a warming charm to speed the process along.

“As long as we keep it wrapped up-“

“It’s a boy.” You sniffed, correcting him.

Normally, he would’ve made some kind of sarcastic remark back to you, but he knew you were upset and only trying to do what you could to help.

“Right. Well, as long as we keep him wrapped up, I believe he’ll have a fighting chance,” He said. “I’m afraid I don’t know what else to do beyond that.”

A makeshift heating pad really was the best he could do. He had toyed with the idea of giving the Niffler some kind of potion, but he wasn’t confident that a critter this small could handle something that potent.

He was going on the theory that the robes wrapped around the Niffler would hopefully create an incubator effect, and it would bring him back and show some improvement in him within a few minutes.

Aesop knew that there wasn’t much else that he could do for the Niffler. It was up to time and fate at this point, and for your sake and the Niffler’s, he hoped it wasn’t too late.

You had gone quiet now other than an occasional sniff and sigh. Aesop watched the way that you were so attentive and focused on this Niffler. This was tugging on your heartstrings for sure, and he just hoped that he wouldn’t have to see what would happen to you if the Niffler didn’t make it.

He wanted to console you, yet he didn’t think he was doing a very good job of it. It was something he was working on. He was learning to be more sensitive and not so dismissive in situations like this.

While a nearly frozen to death Niffler wasn’t a big deal to him, it was extremely important to you. And if it was important to you, then it was important to Aesop too.

The next four or five minutes passed, and neither of you said anything. You were both silently monitoring the Niffler, anxiously awaiting any show of improvement. Aesop was nonchalant each time he checked to make sure he was still breathing and had a heartbeat. He didn’t want to do anything too urgently and make you more upset.

It was touch and go for a little while. It couldn’t have been more than seven or eight minutes total, but it felt like an eternity. Aesop had never tried to save the life of a Niffler before, and he had never felt more helpless than just waiting for something to happen…or not happen.

But just when he was beginning to feel defeated, the Niffler’s shivering began to slow down and he started making more consistent movements and sounding out a few squeaks.

Whatever he had done, it was working.

“What do Nifflers eat?” Aesop asked, stroking the fur on the head of the Niffler, trying to comfort him so that he wasn’t completely panicked when he fully woke up.

“They’re herbivores. Roots, shrubs, and weeds mainly,” You let out a shaky breath, but hope was returning to your eyes. “And treats too.”

“Do they eat dandelion roots?” He inquired.

You nodded, and Aesop took his next course of action.

“There’s a few jars of dandelion roots in the closet. Would you bring one?” He requested.

“Where in the closet?” You asked.

“Left side of the wall, second shelf.” He instructed.

There was a swiftness in your legs as you all but sprinted to the closet, quickly locating the roots exactly where he had said.

“He will likely be famished when he starts coming around. It’s best to have something for him to eat,” He said once you had returned to his side with the jar. “He’s going to need the nourishment.”

He was showing improvement. His movements and noises were becoming more frequent, which was a good sign.

“Nifflers are hyperactive when indoors,” You said. “He’s going to freak out when he fully wakes up and realizes he’s far from home.”

“I don’t think that’s likely. It’s going to take some time for him to feel energized again,” He remarked. “I just hope he doesn’t spot anything shiny around. I do know that they go ballistic over anything of that nature.”

Aesop felt relief when you laughed at that. It was a small one, but genuine. You were feeling better, which made him feel better.

The Niffler’s snout began to twitch, his eyelids slowly opening to reveal his black, shining eyes. He blinked a few times, confused as to why two human faces were in front of him.

“It’s alright…you’re okay.” You used your softest voice to soothe the Niffler.

Aesop screwed the lid off of the jar, the clinking noise causing the Niffler to twitch in surprise. Aesop kept his movements slow and calculated. He didn’t want to startle him any more than he already was.

“Do Nifflers bite?” He asked as he removed a singular root from the jar.

“Not usually, no.” You said, continuing to speak sweetly to the Niffler.

Aesop was hoping that you were right, because he didn’t want to have his finger chomped on as repayment. Nonetheless, he offered the dandelion root to him, waiting curiously for a response.

The Niffler raised his head, taking a few sniffs before beginning to nibble on the end of it. There was no telling when he had eaten last, and based on how quickly he was chewing through it, Aesop guessed that it had been quite a while.

The Niffler made it through about half the jar before he sounded out a small belch, followed by a satisfied hiccup.

“That should perk him up,” He couldn’t help but grin when the Niffler nuzzled its head into his hand. “He looks better.”

He did indeed look better. Within five or ten minutes, he would be wreaking havoc and making a mess of this Potions classroom.

Aesop stood from his chair, standing tall and turning to face you. Not only did the Niffler look better, but so did you.

“I believe that your new friend is going to be just fine,” He declared, his small smile shining with pride. “No more tears, hm?”

He swiped at the last of your tears, pressing a kiss to your forehead with a hum. He knew that you would be okay now, but you had spooked him something awful.

“You really think he’ll be okay?” You sniffed.

“I do, but I suggest that you try to track down Professor Howin again and have her take a look at him.” He advised.

“Alright,” You scooped up the Niffler, keeping your robes wrapped around him snugly. “I’ll check her classroom again.”

He nodded, giving the Niffler one last scratch on his head. He seemed to like Aesop…that or he was just grateful for the dandelion roots.

“Thanks for helping him,” You almost glowed. “I’m really happy you did.”

That gave him a bigger sense of pride than saving the Niffler. There was nothing that he wanted more than to make you happy. He worked towards making sure you were comfortable, happy, and well. Suddenly, all the anxiety and stress of keeping a Niffler alive was well worth it.

“Once you’ve left him with Professor Howin, why don’t you come back here? Take a break for a little while,” He said. “And you can tell me all about your new broom.”

“Okay,” You smiled, and his heart fluttered. “I’ll be back.”

You turned to leave and continue your search for Professor Howin, but he stopped you before you made it far.

“Before you go…” He said, retreating to the closet. He rummaged around for a moment, but returned with an article of clothing in his hands. “Put this on. Please?”

You swapped the Niffler for the dark blue sweater, slipping it over your head and straightening it once it was on. It smelled like Firewhisky and sandalwood…Aesop Sharp’s signature scent.

He kissed the crown of your head once he returned the Niffler to you, his hands giving your shoulders a playful squeeze.

“Alright. Much better. I’ll see you in a minute.” He sent you on your way.

He returned to sit at his desk once you were out the door, a long sigh escaping from his chest. He chuckled to himself. What in the world had happened to him?

He couldn’t believe that he, the infamous and hardened master potioneer, was now bundling up frozen Nifflers and feeding them from his personal ingredients inventory.

He was suddenly filled with so much love and joy just by you thanking him for doing something seemingly so small…something that never would’ve moved him in such a way before.

He had changed much more than he originally realized.

And he was very, very thankful for it.

[therabbitthatpostthings]

(Masterpost)

The ground shook under them as the trees parted and closed. The path was becoming trickier to traverse, at any moment they felt like they could be swallowed whole by the forest. They could feel the hungry eyes of creatures beyond the shadows. Tangled arms and claws shot out at the three hunters. Obanai lunged at the one closer to him as Uzui followed suit. Shinazugawa kept running after the ever moving figure.

He could see the figure getting closer and closer. He raised his blade to strike and slashed with all his strength.

The blade lodged itself into a large tree trunk. Shinazugawa, in a fit of confusion, pulled back and scanned around the area. The rumbling subsided and all was still in the forest. He knew it was close, the trail of snow he followed had dispersed all around him. Even if the monster wasn’t near, its lair was.

“Monster!” He yelled! “No use in hiding! Pay for what you’ve done!”

The wind howled, drowning out the sounds of his fellow huntsmen battles until all was calm. Dead calm.

A shadow loomed from behind him, “Leave. Now.”

He turned around and there was nothing there. Shinazugawa drew his sword in front of him, “Show yourself coward!”

Quiet.

“You can’t hide forever! Demons like you should just lay back and die.”

Still nothing.

“You kill innocents! You killed (L/N)’s kid!”

With great speed, Shinazugawa’s body was hoisted high into the air. The creature snarled at him, “Leave this mountain or do not blame me for your death.”

Shinazugawa readied himself and sliced through the creature's bony arm. It howled in pain, grasping onto the arm that already started to rejuvenate itself.

“Any last words?” Shinazugawa grinned

“I warned you.” The creature growled.

The mountain shook once more as the trees swarmed around them. Shinazugawa moved through them all, meeting the creature in the middle. In turn it used the trees as its defense to land slash after slash on the hunter. In fear of the battle, lesser creatures moved towards the base of the mountain to a quickly growing overwhelmed Uzui and Obanai. Wave after wave the monsters came down upon them. They both knew staying in place would overpower them so they began using the terrain to their advantage. Even the quickest of demons could catch them in the treetops. As the two advanced, Giyuu was quickly finding himself in danger. Hunters usually died by the creatures before reaching him, and the ones that did were too exhausted to fight properly. This man was far above the hunters that came before. He was far more dangerous. His skill, his speed, his perseverance exceed what Giyuu expected of the hunters. With the other two fast approaching, he knew he had to retreat. At least to collect his own sword, just to stand a chance. Giyuu summoned rows of trees to cover him in his escape, a barrier between them. The hunter's voice taunted him as he hurried. Shinazugawa remained undeterred. He moved through the trees pushing past three trunks and scrapping branches. Unrelenting in his stride to kill the Beast.

From up the mountain’s path was a loud galloping. Cutting through the snow and trees with a figure on horseback. It confidently rode up the mountain and like a servant, the mountain obeyed and cleared a path for it. Uzui and Obanai hung on to the parting trees. They followed the path being laid out for them. The gallop came to a sudden halt when the horse tumbled forward. The figure flew off in front of it, plummeting into the snow. The horse was dragged away into the deep shadows.

Obanai jumped down from the tree to examined the body, “Who would be crazy enough to ride up here?”

He turned the figure over, it was a person wearing a white fox mask. They groaned, coming to their senses. The person backed away in fear of two people standing over them.

“You're the person from the village, the one holding the mask.” Uzui stated.

Like a flash went off in their mind they reached up to touch the mask. They gasped, “Giyuu!”

Abruptly they scrambled to run up the mountain followed by the two hunters. Uzui grabbed hold of you and you thrashed against him. “You can’t be here! This mountain is dangerous!”

Still you pulled away from him. “Hey! This monster already killed someone from your village!”

In your thrashing, the mask slipped off. Your eyes pierced into theirs. Filled with determination you yelled, “He didn’t kill me!”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Giyuu’s body could barely keep himself upright. The more the Hunter sliced at him, the longer it took his limbs to grow back. His leg was severed from the knee down. One of his hands was hardly reforming. He didn’t even put effort towards the chunk of his antler missing. He managed to fall into the mansion and hurriedly close the door. Just yesterday he was happy, in your arms and now, he might die before seeing you again. The image of you leaving him would be all that’s left.

He hurriedly limped through the halls to get to his own room. The mansion door slammed open as he did. Shinazugawa looked around the grand entrance. The dark halls echoed an ominous tone as he stalked through. He followed the smell of blood. The demon will reform soon and the trail will be gone. With each step he could feel the presence of the Beast looming around him. Like he was being baited towards it. As he passed the sitting room he saw a bright flame from the doorway. If the demon wanted to lure him, that’s fine but, Shinazugawa wouldn’t give him anywhere to run to.

Giyuu burst through the door of his room and closed it behind him. Carefully he peeked back the wallpaper to the sword. The sword that sealed his fate on the mountain.

“Sabito, help me again,” he whispered like a prayer. Before he could react, the door flew open. In came a bundle of firewood that singed his arms. He blocked the incoming blade with his own. “Last chance. Leave this mountain with your life and never return.”

“You say that to the others you killed?” He grinned.

In a frenzy the two lunged at each other. Swords clashing as they move around the enclosed space. Smoke started to billow up into the room. It was almost terrifying how this man Giyuu knew was human, still fought on like a demon himself. With scary accuracy his blows with land even when the smoke became darker. For once in a long time Giyuu was certain that he might die. Truthfully Shinazugawa knew the odds of him winning became lower if he stayed in this room. He needed the sun. With the dark clouds obscuring his vision, Shinazugawa pounced on Giyuu, taking him through the window. A puff of white snow covered the air on their descent. Shinazugawa’s held his sword inches away from Giyuu’s neck. Giyuu’s own sword bared against it. He slashed down causing both the swords to slice against his leg. Shinazugawa sliced at would have been a human's Achilles. Giyuu howled in pain. He raised his sword but Shinazugawa was quicker and cut off his hand. As he reached to grab it, Shinazugawa stabbed through his other hand, pinning it to his chest.

“You should just lie back and die.” He sneered. “It’s all your good for now.”

Is it over…?

(Y/N)…who will protect them when they come back?

With what little was left Giyuu grabbed the blade with his narrowly reformed hands. He lifted the blade out of his chest, slightly pushing Shinazugawa back. Shinazugawa wasn’t fazed by this. He candidly picked up and stabbed his sword into Giyuu’s thigh. Giyuu hissed as he glared up at him.

Shinazugawa smirked raising Giyuu’s sword, “At least you were a good fight.”

“NO!” a scream cut through the forest. Faster than he had realized a person came running up the mountain. They collapsed in front of Giyuu, shielding him with their body. “Don’t hurt him!”

From behind them came Uzui and Obanai running. “Shinazugawa! It’s the villager! The missing one!”

Shinazugawa looked at you again. He knew you from the wagon. Looking closer he saw the resemblance of the old couple. “You’re dead...”

“Obviously I’m not!” You snapped. You warily turned your back to him. Giyuu laid back in the snow, breathing heavily. You cooed softly, taking his hand in yours, “Giyuu.”

“You came back?” He smiled.

“I was always coming back.”

His breathing started to slow, “I’m glad. It wasn’t the same with you here.”

“Giyuu, I was gone for one day.”

“That’s one day too long. I wanted to see you before I go.” Giyuu gazed longingly up at the sky above. Through the leaves he could see the brightness of the sky. The morning was here and here you were too. Like the stars aligned to give him one last cruel twist of fate.

“Don’t talk like that, you’ll be okay.” You reassured him. You noticed the ends of his hair lit a spark in the snow. The reality dawned on you. You attempted to lift Giyuu. “Come on! It’s morning we have to get inside!”

The mansion was still engulfed in flames. You turned to the three hunters, “Please! We need to get to the village!”

“Hey, we can’t-”

“You were sent up here to help me so help me!” You yelled.

“(Y/N).” Giyuu spoke. “It’s okay.”

“No, I can’t let you die. Not after you saved me.” Tears spilled over from your eyes as Giyuu pulled you down closer to him.

“You saved me.” He smiled.

Your voice broke, “Giyuu please. Don’t leave me.” The sun started to peak over the horizon. His long hair burned as the wind pushed the shade back.

“(Y/N),” He held your face in his hands. “If we had more time, would you have loved me?”

“What..?”

“I love you. I didn’t think I could ever love anyone. Or want them to love me back. I’ve never wanted for anything until I found you.”

Giyuu pulled you into his embrace, feeling the flames licking up his back.

The tears didn’t stop. You pushed yourself further into his embrace. “Please, don’t leave me Giyuu.”

Even with the flames eating away at him, Giyuu felt the most peaceful. He gently let go of you. The burning spread all over. Still, he smiled, “Thank you for letting me live again.”

He stepped back, becoming engulfed in the flames. Shinazugawa tried to hold you back from being burned but you had lunged towards Giyuu. All that was left in your grasp was the burned pieces of his haori. You broke into painful, anguished sobs. Grasping at the fabric, not wanting to let go of what remained. You cried harder than you had in your whole life.

“Please! Please! I love him! I loved him the whole time!”

You knew it was futile. There was nothing left. And still you cried and begged for someone, anyone to turn back time. To give you the sense you had now. You would have never left the mountain. You would have stayed with him.

Uzui stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, “You’ll freeze up here, let’s take you home.”

He looked remorseful. They were only doing what they thought was right, you couldn’t find it in your heart to hate them. Gathering yourself, you stood slowly. As you began the walk away the crackling fire stopped. The snow moved past you and the wind blew harder. Giyuu’s haori escaped your grasp and flew into the air.

“Watch out!” Shinazugawa’s pushed you and Uzui out of the way of a collapsing wall.

“What’s happening?!” Obanai yelled.

The wind and snow formed a spire in the air. It was as if all the forest was being drawn into it. The rubble of the mansion, the garden gate, all of it into an unrelenting spiral in front of them. Out from the ground sprouted blue petals that took shape into the form of a person. First legs, then a torso, then the arms. The figure molded and changed adding more features and then it stopped all at once. The figure fell onto the ground, covered by the haori. What remained of the spire and wreckage turned to snow that floated down around it.

You felt a tug in your heart towards it. You carefully walked over to the figure. A mass of long black hair covered its body and it began to stir. The figure sat up in shock from the ground. All its nerves and senses suddenly become aware. The chill in the air, the grass on its legs, the warm sun overhead.

It spoke in a horse voice, “The sun…I’m in the sun?”

He lifted his arms to block his eyes and was surprised to see his hands with no claws. His skin didn’t cling to his bones. He looked down at his legs, no longer hooved and covered in fur. Real legs! Human legs. Is this a dream? Was he dead?! How could the curse be broken? How is he human again?!

The raging thought we’re all silenced by a soft voice calling out. He turned to You there, just as beautiful as when you left. “(Y/N)!” He reached out to you. You took his hand, kneeling the snow next to him. This felt too good to be true. It couldn’t be him. But those eyes were Giyuu’s eyes. That was his voice. The hands that held your face were his. The warm smile that melted your heart was Giyuu.

Loud sobs left you as you hugged him. You thought if you let go, he’d disappear again. Giyuu smiled in your embrace and held you closer to him.

“I thought I lost you!” You cried.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t scare me ever again!”

“I won’t love, I promise.”

“Giyuu…”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It’s really funny trying to come up with an ending to a story that is literally a take as old as time. Also I truly didn’t mean to subdue Uzui so much lol.

[in-the-arms-of-death]

The Long Quiet

Ambience was something that was usually absent, in death. It never really had the need for sound. It was quiet the entire trip to the other side. The scythe in Death's hand to cut through the grass that grows throughout the thousands of years.

Death knows this route like the back of its hand. It carved this path out as it's own personal quiet way to the other side. It was the quickest way to hand over the following souls to Life.

Sometimes, even when it's not leading souls, Death enjoys walking through the greeneries that terrified souls couldn't see. Not daring to raise their heads out of fear of what might be. Death doesn't bother to tell them that there's nothing to worry about, that the way to Life is sweet and warm. That The End isn't as cold as they think it is.

Maybe one day it will. Death has held the hands of both The Beginning and The End, and it finds that both are warm in their own way. The Beginning is warm like the sun, a shining guiding force that will always exist no matter what happens to you. The End is warm like a hot drinks, you have to make it warm yourself. It doesn't warm on its own, you have to put work into it, and if you leave it too long, it'll go cold again.

However it doesn't change the journey, from Beginning to End. The grass remains green all the way down the dirt path, and the roses merely turns to wisterias for fauna. The sun sets on the way to The End, but the moon shines just as brightly, and fireflies can feel just as lively as the sun. Torches provides heat to keep the souls from shivering, despite them never realizing.

The fences that guard them built by Death's hands, the tree that has grown from a sapling to a large willow tree upon the years of walking from end to end. None that would be appreciated as people that feared the Long Quiet.

And all Death can do is continue to bridge the gap from beginning to end, as it was the gateway, its veil lifting for life to breathe out, and the end to breath in.

Death sits between the beginning and the end. It was the journey.

Flowers bloom beneath Kristin's veil, pouring from the depths of her shadows and covering the floor of the gilded cage of The End.

The End's hands are still warm, and can be felt underneath the shadowy fabric that makes Death's clothing. A part of Death longs to lean into The End like it leans into The Beginning. The smell of wisterias and roses fills the senses as flowers grow, petals pulling open to bridge the gap.

The End never lets go.

[dark-twist-fairytales]

(Gherix realising his son creation is similar to his follower : ah)

The image of that tho, the normally stoic Keagen lying in bed, whining about it being too empty.

Clayton just patting him on the back: it'll pass soon enough.

Keagen: is this what normal people feel?

(Dizzy Micah? Hell yeah, he once tried to ride whilst dizzy and completely toppled off)

How everyone acts when sick:

Keagen has never been sick before, but he's freaked out and wants his partners.

Micah gets dizzy but tries to push through it, but once they get him down he clings to either Juni (if he's warm) or Keagen (if he's cold).

Tatyana is a diva, even more than usual. She acts like a victorian child who just caught the flu but thinks they're dying.

Juni was taught all about illness and disease so she rests her body, her parents teaching her to not overwork herself when sick.

Tori is pretty neutral, if she feels sick she informs the others and goes to take a nap. If she still feels bad afterwards she asks for remedies.

Vin doesn't tell anyone when he's sick, because he's to stubborn to rest. This has indeed caused him to pass out from exhaustion on a couple occasions.

(Him passing out was much more common before they met Clayton, who can spot a sick Vin from a mile away because he did (and still kinda does) the same thing.)

Panicked Keagen, I live for it. He's just looking at Clayton pleadingly but Clayton stays firm on him staying in the room.

(Keagen: I'm fine! See?

Clayton: If I didn't have control or agency, this bed would have burnt with how much sneezing is happening.)

Micah growing unusually quiet and equally unbothered is a prrtty good sign he's getting sick, sticking closer to walls or trees to help him along. He's used to survivable food, so he has a stomach of steel, essentially.

Tatyana the diva, she's also picky about who she wants near her. She probably gets headaches the most/easiest when sick, so at times she'll grow quiet because her own voice is making it worse.

Juni having the easiest time with sickness, I'd imagine she got sick a lot as a kid and tried to push past it, but learned from her parents that resting is what's supposed to happen. Even the water is calm.

Tori trading the nap approach, I love that for her. She catches on the quickest, which is why she's able to just relax for it.

Vincent "If I'm not throwing up my guts, I'm fine" 'Vin' Azran. And even that's a maybe. He'll hide away more than usual out of guilt of being sick, thinking that if he consumes himself in work, it'll go away.

[ooeygooeyghoul]

Tell me about YOUR WoL! Rapid fire!

Favorite food vs. Comfort food

A childhood memory

That one thing that they don't need but can't let go of

Best friend

Something people are surprised to learn

And a pet peeve.

OKAY GET READY FOR MULTIPLE PARAGRAPHS YEEHAW

Favorite food vs. Comfort food

Shiun is a simple man, he enjoys most dishes with a large portion of meat. Roast dodo, smoked raptor, meat pies, grilled fish- doesn't matter what it is as long as it's dead and cooked. His comfort food, however, would be some good old pickled plum riceballs. They remind him of home.

A childhood memory

Shiun's childhood was... rocky to say the least. Growing up in Doma during the Garlean occupation, things weren't easy. Most of his memories of his younger days are tainted by Garlean oppression or the scathing words of his father whenever Shiun refused to follow the path his parents laid out for him. One fond memory that lingers in his mind, however, is the time he snuck out of the house in the middle of the night after a bad argument with his dad when he was about 9. He encountered a lone man out in the countryside, practicing his swordsmanship on a withered tree. Shiun watched him quietly from the tall grass for a long time, completely enraptured by the man's fluid movements and grace with the weapon. Eventually, the man sheathed the blade and called out to Shiun, seemingly aware of his presence the whole time. Embarrassed, but curious, he came out of hiding and into the open. Apparently, the man was a samurai and was training for the day Doma would rise up against Galemald. Something stirred in Shiun's soul as the man waxed poetic about hope and his faith in the Doman people, the desire to do the same one day grew inside him. He told the samurai that he wanted to learn to fight too, and he was ecstatic when the man allowed him to use his sword and gave him a few lessons on how to wield it. When he returned home that night, he had a newfound resolve to become something more. He never got the man's name, and he can't remember his face, but he'll never forget what he taught him (even if he ended up being more fond of axes than katanas and swords).

The one thing that they don't need but can't let go of

Shiun stubbornly holds onto every axe he's ever used. He's got an odd sentimentality about the weapons he's sliced enemies apart with over his journey, each one a sort of old friend he doesn't want to get rid of (even though he's running out of space for them.) He also holds onto the bandana/eyepatch thing Thancred used to wear during the Dragonsong war as a sort of "good luck charm." He'd rather die than let anyone know about that though, so you didn't hear anything about it okay?

Best friend

Out of the NPCs, he's the closest to Alphinaud and Alisaie. He's kind of adopted a big brother role over them, and being around them really draws out his more aggravating personality traits. Especially with Alisaie, they two play off each other to bully their other friends in an unfair tag team of sass. Player-wise, his best friend is my best friend's WoL, Gholi- a sharp-tongued black mage lala. You'd never guess they're friends just by looking at them, because they are literally always at each other's throats, but they actually get along swimmingly. When they're hanging out, Gholi is usually hitching a ride on Shiun's shoulder because he gets sick of not being able to keep up with the Au Ra's ridiculously long stride.

Something people are surprised to learn Everyone is always surprised to find out that he's a cat person. His favorite minion is his gaelikitten named Potato (thanks to a friend group poll lol), and he would die for that little dude. No one expects the 7'5" Au Ra with the perma-RBF and enormous axe to fawn over a tiny little kitten with silly wings.

Pet peeve

The quickest way to get on Shiun's nerves is to give him unsolicited advice about how he should be doing things. His parents were major micro-managers, and it drove him crazy. He's going to be doing things his way thank you very much.

[amielbjacobs]

Happy STS! What is your character’s living situation like? Do they live in a house/apartment/boarding house/castle? How neat do they keep it and why? What sort of vibes does their home have? Share as much detail as you like for as many characters as you want!

Vyacheslav Mirsky & Nadezhda Mirskaya - As of the events of Spymaster, the Mirskys have recently moved into an apartment in West Germany to work at the newly opened Soviet embassy in Bonn. Because of general 1950s sexist ideas about the wife being the one who takes care of the house and because of Vyacheslav's general retreat from all aspects of married life, most of the decor was left up to Nadia's discretion.* Nadia is thrifty, so I would imagine that a lot of the furniture depends on what was cheapest and quickest to get when they arrived in Bonn. She also likes to hang up mushroom identification charts because she loves mushroom hunting.

The one room Vyacheslav has claimed for himself is his "study". Nadia is aware, although neither of them have ever said it out loud, that she is not allowed into this room. Probably if she went in, Vyacheslav wouldn't say anything, just look uncomfortable. But she's never tried. Neither of them are eager to test the boundaries of their weird awkward silence.

The study isn't really a study; it was probably, like, a large broom closet or something of the nature before Vycheslav crammed a tiny desk and a chair into it. He keeps some of his books here, and mostly he shuts himself into it and writes, and then burns what he's written in his ash tray.

* Vyacheslav will insist to the last that he believes in the equality of the sexes as a tenant of Communism, but they're still the kind of m/f couple where things don't get done unless she either does it or tells him to do so. I will say, in his defense, that if she ever did feel able to ask him to do his half of the housework and so on, he would probably rise to the occasion, but he is so distant and weird to her that she never really feels comfortable discussing that with him.

Eugene Wallace - Wallace lives in a small 2 room flat in Bonn, somewhat away from where the other American diplomats live because he speaks very good German and isn't psyched about living packed in with all his coworkers next door. (This is, of course, also convenient for a secret love affair with a Russian spy . . . )

It's kind of a mess because he moved in recently. A lot of used furniture, some of which he's tried to repair or cover up damage on, a lot of boxes of books. Even if he were fully moved in, there'd probably always be books lying around the place. It's cluttered, a little worn, but cozy. He likes the color light blue, generally light colors.

His bedroom has a window that looks out onto the street, and there's a tree growing up next to it.

Honestly, I should boot up the Sims and model their houses, that would be fun.

Thanks for sending this, Moshke!

[sofiasfanartcollection]

( @the-starry-seas Hi! I was working on a reply to your lovely ask but when I saved it as a draft, it seems to have disappeared, so I hope you see this. )

Hello!!!! Thank you for the interest, I don’t have commissions open at the moment—but I am hoping to soon, once I figure out some things. (I have wanted to do commissions but I often get overwhelmed with figuring out payment methods, if I need a business license etc.) I will be sure to let you know if I get commissions set up :]

And thank you so much, I would love to talk about River!!!

She’s my mutant-sona for Rise of the Tmnt, and was a human mutated to be part white-tailed deer by one of Draxum’s oozesquitoes. Her power from that mutation is growing and controlling plants. (She can grow any plant if she knows what it looks like.)

She was then mutated a second time with split gill mushroom dna (although she attacked the oozesquito with a venus flytrap  and was only partially mutated.) Because the mutation wasn’t as complete, River can’t really control her second set of powers—which are ghost-like abilities. She can float, turn transparently purple, shrink, and summon a misty substance. However, these things tend to happen when River’s stressed, scared, or sad and can be hard to stop. They are more of a hindrance than a power most of the time. (You may have seen these, but here’s some art of her ghost-like form: https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/732748080571613184/ghostly-here-are-some-doodles-and-a-rough)

(Also, I’m not sure how far you looked back, but here is my first main post for River with info about her: https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/711553332660076544/my-rise-sonamutant-sona-river-river-sheher )

River was an aspiring children’s book author and illustrator, and had come to New York, from California, to pitch one of her ideas. After the whole being a mutant situation though, she lost the confidence to push on with that dream. She was homeless for a while, and grew lots of small gardens for fellow people living on the streets. Later, she meets Todd, and they become friends, and she moves into the woods near him. They go on lots of nature walks together, and she often volunteers at his puppy sanctuary.  https://www.tumblr.com/sofiasfanartcollection/735215068459024384/one-of-the-quickest-ways-to-befriend-river-is

She’s friendly towards the turtles, though it takes some time for her to feel comfortable around them, since she’s a pretty quiet and anxious person and they are vigilantes basically and are so full of reckless energy. She connects with Mikey over a shared love of art, sews little accessories for Raph’s plushies, enjoys Leo’s jokes, and grows exotic plants for Donnie to study. After the movie, she and Todd both spend time supporting them and their family as they recover. 

River does not get along with/is very scared of most of the mutant villains, but does kind-of accidentally befriend Hypno and Warren. When she first meets them, she finds a lost and trapped Warren (I have a headcanon that he gets lost every once and a while, being so small) and helps him get back to Hypno. Seeing them together, River instinctively feels that they are safe people. (Of course, they’re not safe really, even though they don’t mean her any harm. But River can be a little too trusting when her anxiety calms down.) 

She meets them again when she is running a flower stand at the hidden city, and they become repeat customers. 

Then, after she hears about the run-in they had with Draxum (in Warren and Hypno Sitting in a Tree) she goes to check in on them. After that they meet up every once and a while to visit and play board games. (At this point, she knows they are thieves, but isn’t judging that since being a mutant makes getting by really hard. She doesn’t know they have tried to kill the turtles.)

However, later on she ends up getting in the middle of a fight between Hypno and the turtles. She is devastated to learn that Hypno and Warren would put people’s lives in danger, especially since the turtles are kids. (Superheroes basically, but still kids.)

River avoids Hypno and Warren for a while after that, but when Hypno goes missing before Battle Nexus New York, Warren calls River and she comes to try and help. 

She ends up giving friendship with them another chance after hearing about how Hypno helped Donnie (and how Warren helped April save the turtles from his twin in that unaired episode). 

[This intersects with an AU of mine (though River is more of a minor character in the AU), that I’m working on but haven’t posted much about yet, where Hypno and Warren get a redemption arc. (It seemed like they were leaning that way in the show too.) Once River knows that Hypno and Warren have been enemies of the turtles, she’s only really willing to be friends when they start working towards setting things right.]

After the movie, River trusts Hypno and Warren when they say they didn’t know what that artifact was and remains their friend as they grapple with the guilt of being part of that disaster.

River had a flower stand at a marketplace in the hidden city, while Todd sold lemonade nearby. (He gives most of it away though, and doesn’t end up working there for long.) River works her flower stand for a year or so and then switches to creating flowers and plants for someone’s (a yokai oc who is a work in progress, maybe a kirin?) shop. She still helps with arranging flowers etc, but it’s less stressful.

When it comes to other people River gets to know, there’s a few yokai working at the market that are nice to her. She enjoys when April is around when she visits the turtles, and River likes to listen to some of Splinter’s stories. Casey Jr. has joined her and Todd on nature walks sometimes. She doesn’t really know Bullhop or Casey Sr. She enjoys visiting with Franken-Foot. And she gave Harold a new little corpse flower plant. 

River can barely tolerate Draxum. If she’s around him for much time at all, little thorn bushes will start growing near her. She has found out though, that she can take control of the vines he grows.

[not-a-seagull]

PRISON CELL – 08: “Illegal Crowcave Logging”

Background: Prison Cafeteria.

Music: None.

Eiden: Ready to tell me why you’re here?

Quincy: ……

Quincy: Like I said, you should leave this place quickly.

Eiden: And stay out of your business too, right…? Well, not only am I still here, I’m also one of your new neighbors…

Quincy: Reckless move.

Eiden: Edmond and I resolved to help— and three heads are always better than one, right?

Eiden: Besides, an opportunity like this, without any guards around, doesn’t come around often. It took a whole lot of planning, you know?

Quincy: … You won’t leave until I tell you?

Eiden: Bingo! Looks like we’re finally on the same page.

Quincy: … *sigh*

Quincy: Not long ago, I got word from Topper that, in a distant region of the forest, a precious species of tree was being cut down in huge quantities.

Music: BGM 023

Eiden: You mean… the crowcave trees?

Quincy: You’ve heard of them?

Eiden: Edmond told me about them on the way here… But how come you got arrested? The Warden said you attacked the guards outside the prison…

Quincy: I did.

Eiden: Uh, care to elaborate? Why did you attack them?

Quincy: I had to get inside this place to learn more.

Eiden: Wait, so you got yourself arrested on purpose so you could investigate? Are you saying the prison is somehow involved with the illegal felling of crowcave trees?

Quincy: I spotted the Warden among the culprits.

Quincy: A few of the guards, too. They worked at night and were dressed differently than usual.

Eiden: … So you’re saying… they’ve been denouncing the illegal fellings all while doing exactly that?

Quincy: Yes. But I haven’t found out what they’re using the trees for or who exactly is involved.

Quincy: Crowcave trees emit a scent that protects the surrounding plant life from pests, but they take a long time to grow. As such, cutting them down affects the entire forest.

Quincy: I have to find out what’s going on and stop them.

Eiden: I see… So that’s why you were so cold before, you were trying to hide your identity?

Quincy: ……

Quincy: I wasn’t being cold.

Quincy: … I just haven’t slept well since coming here.

Eiden: (That was morning grouchiness!?)

Eiden: But, hold on… How come you’ve been ignoring me these last few days? I’m here to help you, you know?

Quincy: … My plan was to find evidence of their crimes and then deliver retribution.

Eiden: Deliver retribution…

Eiden’s heart rate increases slightly as he ponders the meaning of Quincy’s words. His gaze falls on his clans member’s muscular arms, his unconsciously clenched fists.

Quincy: This is the quickest way. It’ll be troublesome if you get involved.

Eiden: Forget that… There’s no way Edmond would ever agree to this kind of vigilante justice…

Quincy: ……

Eiden: Ah, so that’s why you wouldn’t talk to us… You were worried we might try to stop you?

Quincy: … Yes.

Eiden: But now that you’ve told me everything, does that mean you’ll let me help?

Quincy: … No choice. you threatened me.

Eiden: Alright, looks like we’re definitely on the same page.

Quincy: … *sigh*

Eiden: Whew~ That took some work, but it was worth it. I might suck at Topper-nese, but i get an A+ for Quinglish, right?

As if in reply to eiden’s question, the little white blur speeds up onto the table and, making sure to hide between the two men, munches on a small scrap of bread.

Eiden: Topper!

Quincy: He can move around and find useful information much more easily than we can.

Topper: *squeak*... *squeak* *squeak*!

Quincy: He says he was shocked to see you here. He guessed you must have committed some crime and was worried about you.

Eiden: Topper, I’m moved! No one’s as good to me as you~!

Topper: *squeak* *squeak*!

Topper lifts his head and rubs his cheeks against both men’s palms, then, bread in hand, speeds off like a tiny flash of white lightning.

Eiden: So what did Topper find out?

Quincy: … He didn’t find the crowcave lumber, but he did find something unusual.

***

Background: Prison Workshop (closed.)

Music: None.

Edmond: At ease! Line up in an orderly fashion to take your brooms.

Inmates: Yes, sir!

Eiden: ……

Eiden: (Ah… Edmond, what a sight for sore eyes…! The air in here just got a whole lot sweeter~)

Edmond: Ahem! Daydreaming, are we?

Eiden: I have something to report, sir. Could I speak with you once I’m done sweeping?

(...)

Music: BGM 023

Edmond: I see, so Quincy is investigating the illegal felling of the crowcaves…

Edmond: I cannot and will not sit back and do nothing if the prison is involved in such a serious crime.

Eiden: (Ahaha, I knew he’d never go along with Quincy’s whole ‘deliver retribution’ plan…)

Edmond: So, what have Quincy and Topper discovered?

Eiden: Topper found a hidden passageway that opens up near the senior guards’ office and exits outside the prison. Seems like it’s only used by the Warden and a few select guards.

Edmond: Hmm, I don’t recall any such passageway in the prison blueprints. Sounds very suspicious…

Edmond: If, as Quincy suspects, the Warden is behind the illegal fellings… it is highly likely he has been using said passageway to transport the fallen crowcave lumber.

Eiden: But why would they bring it inside the prison? Wouldn’t it be in their best interest to get rid of it as soon as possible?

Edmond: As far as i know, in recent years, the majority of crowcave products sold at market have arrived ready-made.

Edmond: As such, it has been nigh on impossible to trace them back to their sources.

Eiden: Ready-made…

Edmond: Thinking about it carefully, a connection could easily be made.

Edmond: They first bring the lumber to the prison to be processed, then take the finished products to sell to the nobility…

Eiden: Take it to the prison to be processed…

Eiden: Ah! Quincy mentioned something about this workshop!

(Flashback)

Background: Prison Cafeteria.

Music: BGM 023.

Quincy: Each inmate is assigned a different work task every day, except for those assigned to the carpentry workshop. They also work different hours to the rest of us.

Quincy: I approached one of them during break time to ask about it.

Eiden: And what happened?

Quincy: … As soon as i approached, he attacked me with a fork and got himself thrown in solitary.

Eiden: W-Wait, you mean 9527?

(End of flashback)

Background: Prison Workshop.

Music: BGM 023.

Eiden: … So in the end, he didn’t find anything out…

Eiden: But there’s definitely something fishy about this place… I’ve been assigned to clean the workshop several times already, but i’ve never seen a single person in here working.

Edmond: Indeed… very suspicious. What’s more, the shift chart lists the Warden as the one and only supervisor for all carpentry tasks.

Eiden: Remember 9527? The one that picked a fight with Quincy. How about we go have a little chat with him?

Edmond: 9527? I read his medical report just this morning.

Edmond: He seems to be of a very delicate disposition. Apparently, he has suffered from nightmares while in solitary confinement and now sits around muttering gibberish to himself all day.

Edmond: Who knows how long it could take him to recover?

Eiden: (Sounds a little too delicate if you ask me…!)

Eiden: But that means…

Eiden: he hasn’t been able to work in the carpentry workshop the last few days, right? In that case, they should be a little short-handed…

Edmond: You’re right…! If the Warden really is using inmates to process illegal goods, I’m sure he plans to fill the vacancy as soon as possible.

Eiden: And I know the perfect way to help him do just that…

End of chapter.

Sources:

Background Images: NU Carnival wiki.

Transcript: did it myself, with the help of this video.

Last chapter: Prison Cell 07 | Next chapter: Prison Cell 09

[historia-vitae-magistras]

If you're still doing the ask game, Describe the place where they sleep, and What is the character’s go-to drink order? for Matthew? I feel like he either has a real cozy everything-in-the-right-spot room or a feral for-the-love-of-god-open-a-damn-window! type of space hard to tell with him lol. And no idea what drink he'd order? seems like he'd go for whatever gets the job done quickest, but say he had company?

Where does he sleep... where he doesn't sleep is a shorter list. When he was little and almost no one slept one to a bed, especially up where it was absolutely freezing in winter, he annoyed the shit out of both François and Arthur. They spent centuries in various societies where there was absolutely no privacy and by the time Matt came along they had it and wanted to keep it and didn't particularly understand why Matt didn't get that. So those occasional attempts to snuggle in weren't especially welcomed. But Alfred loved it. Matt would occasionally scare the shit out of him by perching at the end of the bed waiting for Alfred to sense him and wake up, because he was by far the fastest at that. To this day, Matt will be dead asleep and Alfred will just scoop him up and snuggle because they didn't get enough of it when they were little.

Matt also very much got in the habit of staying the fuck out from underfoot after Alfred's revolution, perching in high places like tops of book cases, in rafters, on top of cupboards, in trees, on roofs. And he'd occasionally fall from wherever he'd stuck himself and wake up bruised and seriously confused looking like this.

When he's older, and he has is own spaces he mostly keeps it decent. Very cosy, probably way too much fucking buffalo plaid. He's doing his weed outside if it's above zero and its fairly neat. Less chaotic than Alfred, less cluttered than Arthur but far less stylish and put together than Francois. But other times when he's on one of his serotonin droughts? Oh yeah. The window needs to be opened, he needs to be rolled out and beaten like a rug, the blankets might be grafted to his skin. The man is growing mushrooms and that might be the only reason Katya comes poking around when on a foraging kick.

As for coffee... This is kind of an interesting one. You can sort of trace the realignment from the British Empire to the American by the way Canadians got their caffeine. Coffee and tea have always both been represented but until the late 50s and 60s, tea dominated and by the 80s and 90s, coffee did. Tea is currently making a resurgence but with more influence from Hong Kong, Taiwan, and India. Either way, at some point he had to stop doing uppers and replaced it with just ungodly amounts of caffeine. His order on his own for plain coffee is black or 2 sugar 2 cream, a basic cappuccino or 15 shots of espresso in one cup. I can see people just automatically getting two of whatever they're already getting themselves, he won't complain about it. Warm caffeine is warm caffeine.

[captainnameless]

The snow where i am right now is so thick!! everyones sledging, what are the littles like in the snow? I can imagine Little Lando whining afterwards cause hes so cold 🥺

i’m so jealous!! i’m such a summer person in general but i do love the snow every once in a while, all we get here is a wet soppy mess though 💀

anywho, lets discuss snowy winter babies. because lets be honest i think they’d all love the snow.

Lando might pretend he doesn’t want to, he’s already moaning about it being too cold but Carlos promises he’ll take him sledding off a hill and that sounds exciting enough to agree to go. He’s packed up in more than enough layers before wobbling outside, also definitely smart enough to make Carlos pull him on the sled on the way to the hill. It’s relatively steep, and they get some ridiculous speed with both their weight on the sled and most definitely eat shit at the bottom but it’s okay. Lando’s doing that hysterical laugh and Carlos soaks it all up. He’d also definitely be up for a snowball fight, if Max was there they’d form an alliance and plot against the others but will fail miserably. Lando would be the one to get cold the quickest, his poor little hands would get too cold and he’s tugging on Carlos’ coat with the saddest little whine. Carlos gets them inside quickly enough, stripping Lando of his outside layers before wrapping him up in the coziest blankets they have and flopping down the couch together. Lando buries himself in Carlos’ chest, squeezing his hands somewhere in between to warm them up and Carlos holds, pressing them closer.

Max would love a snowball fight, Daniel’s not really a snowperson but he’ll suffer for his boy. It’s worth seeing the glee and mischief on Max’s face rolling a ball between his gloved hands and aiming for Daniel. He’s got an annoyingly good aim but loses it with how much he’s laughing at Daniel wiping the snow out of his face. Daniel definitely seizes this opportunity to charge forward and tackle them into the snow and launch into some sort of tickle attack. It’s Daniel who’ll grow whiny before Max but Max’ll relent, skip inside with Daniel and go look for Leo while Daniel builds them a blanket fort. Max’ll return with Leo pressed tightly against him before holding him out to Daniel with a “I warned him up for you.”

Sebastian would take both Mick and Charles on some sort of snow hike. They all love exploring and it’s such a nice activity to do together. Charles’ll try to be in charge, marching ahead to show the way even if Sebastian has to call out “Left turn! … other left, Bub!” a couple times. Mick’s content holding Sebastian hand and pointing out the few animals that still live in the trees surrounding them. Mick and Charles also definitely tried to surprise attack Sebastian by tackling him into the snow but reveal their plan by giggling too much and Charles will find a way to trip and faceplant into the snow somehow.

George thinks snow is pretty. He’s not sure how Lewis feels about it. So he scoots closer to the window and points it out, soft sighed. “That’s pretty.”Lewis’ll look up, nod with a conforming smile. “It’s very pretty sweetheart.” George’ll nod, eyes glued to the white wonderland outside, another soft sigh leaving him. “Do you wanna go outside?” And well, since Lewis suggested it.. They’ll build a pretty snowman and dress it in designer gear more expensive than my monthly rent.