#where was all this epicness down the line eh?

[blogger360ncislarules]

Wowza...

If I didn't know any better, I'd say every quality that was 'somehow' missing from NCIS LA in it's last few years was just on full display right here.

*totally not slightly bitter by that at all!

[meteor752]

Epic the musical side story where Hades and Persephone get really invested in the story during The underworld saga, sorta small talk about the strange man for the next couple of years, and then freak the fuck out in the audience during god games when they find out not only is the guy still alive, he’s managed to piss off like half the pantheon

Just

“Hey babe?”

“Yeah Perse?”

“There’s like, a bunch of mortals here”

“Mortals? What, how?”

“Idk, they’re like, on some ship”

“Huh. Should I call Thanatos, have him take care of it, or should we just wait it out”

“Call Thanatos, best to rid the garden of any pests before they manage to kill your flowers”

“Pfft, alright. I’ll be right back”

“Okay- wait. A bunch of the dead are singing to him”

“What?”

“Yeah like a bunch. Who are they?”

“Uhh, most of them drowned, a few killed by a cyclops. One broke his neck?”

“They’re singing about a cyclops, about how he let one live or something”

“Probably one of Poseidons. Should I still call Thanatos?”

“No wait, I wanna see where this goes.”

“Alright.”

“An infant, what infant?”

“Maybe the cyclops?”

“OH NEW GUY! He seems important!”

“Also a cyclops victim. They seem close, what do you think friend or lover?”

“They’re Greek, it’s probably both”

“I don’t know how he managed it, but this guy brought down like, the entire vibe of the entire underworld. That shouldn’t be possible”

“Yeah. Oh who’s this lady now?”

“Suicide by drowning. Not sure. Maybe a relative”

“Yeah may-THATS HIS MOM”

“OH MY GODS. OH HE DIDNT KNOW OH LORD”

“Hooooooly fuck, what a way to find out”

““Here in the underworld the past is always close behind”. Think we should make that a slogan?”

“Then we’d have to credit him and stuff tho”

“Yeahhhh. Well, seems like this guy is sticking around for a few hours. Should I grab some popcorn?”

“Yeah I’ll grab the fainting couches”

~~~

“Okay what’s happening now?”

“He just stated speaking to Tiresias”

“Tiresias? He went all the way to the underworld to speak with a prophet?”

“Well he is quite good”

“Wait did Tiresias just reject him?”

“I think so? Oh wait predictions”

“Past romance, sacrifice, betrayal, and some final battle? Who the fuck is this guy?”

“Dunno, but he’s not going home that’s for sure”

“Palace? He must be a king of some kind then”

“Do we know the names of any mortal kings”

“Nope, so that didn’t help at-wait his wife is doing what”

“Ohhh, that must be rough, hearing it from a prophet”

“Okay this chanting is getting intense. I think I heard the word Scylla”

“I heard lightning bolt”

“That doesn’t bode well”

~~~

“He’s just, sitting there”

“Is he done? Should we-oh. No okay new song, let’s see what’s going on”

“Man this guy has it rough. Should we like, do something?”

“I mean, I’m not really the “bless the mortals” type of god. I mean I let a guy borrow my helm once, and I haven’t seen it since. I should probably check up on that actually”

“Yeahhh. They killed a friend of the cyclops?”

“That explains all the cyclops victims”

““Witch turn men to pigs”, you think that’s Circe?”

“Sounds like he-WHAT WAS THAT THIRD ONE”

“You don’t think-?”

““God comes down and makes a fleet drown”, I am most definitely sure!”

“Damn. Wait wooden horse? Oh, I know who this guy is!”

“Really?”

“Yeah he’s one of Athenas warriors! Ody something. Odyssen? Odyssa? Whatever, I remember the horse thing was a big deal when it happened, Ares was pissed, Hermes spread the word to all of mount Olympus”

“One of Athenas eh? Interesting. Oh yeah, the god was definitely Poseidon”

“How are you sure?”

“That line he just sung, “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves”, Posy is always fucking saying that crap”

“500 men? Damn”

“Penelope, presumably the wife. Don’t know about the other guy tho”

“Either a son, brother, or lover. Or maybe just a friend I dunno”

“Another infant? What the fuck is wrong with this guy, pulling a fucking Hera”

“Gotta appreciate the determination of him”

“Yeah, but I think we’ll see him here again soon. If he’s pissed of Poseidon, and soon to be Zeus if Tiresias is to be believed, I don’t think he’ll get much further when he gets out of here”

“So we are letting him go”

“Yeah. Partly because I want to see what happens next. When he gets here we’ll ask him to tell the full story, from beginning to end”

“Alrighty then”

~~~

“I swear if I get dragged out of the underworld for one of Zeus’ little games one more time this year I might actually start a war”

“Mum keeps staring at me…fuck she’s probably gonna try and talk after this, fuck meeeeee”

“We can escape in the middle of it, no one will know”

“Oh she’ll know. Do you know what this is about like, at all?”

“No, but I think Hermes might launch into the fourth dimension if he keeps vibrating like that in his seat”

“Yeesh”

“Hmm, odd. I don’t see Posy anywhere”

“Maybe he’s competing?”

“Nah, he always declines when Zeus asks, he hates it”

“Why were you not invited?”

“Dunno, probably has nothing to do with me”

“Oh it’s starting, it’s starting”

“Athena’s challenging eh? Interesting”

“Would love to know what any of this is about”

“Mortal lover? Demi-god child? Those are the usual subject”

“Yeah but that’s not Athenas thing. Probably something to do with one of her “warriors” or whatever”

“Apollo, of course. Always has to be apart of these things”

“The drama queen”

“Truly”

“Hephasteus and Aphrodite? That’s a little awkward”

“Weird lineup so far- fucking Ares? Yeah shes not winning this one, sibling spite is stronger than any argument she can give”

“Why would all three of them be included. I can feel the tension from here. I’m uncomfortable”

“And Hera? Yeah no she’s loosing for sure, Hera like not care less about any mortal, unless they’ve offended her”

“She might be convinced, just to spite Zeus?”

“That just sounds unhealthy on so many levels”

“Alright let’s see what this is about”

“Hold up, Ody?”

“Oh my gods. You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Well he was one of her warriors. Was he not?”

“I can’t believe he’s still trying to get home. It’s been like ten years, how the fuck”

“Well, if he pissed off Poseidon then he probably has something to do with it, the pissy bastard”

“Killed sirens. Why would you do that, so unnecessary”

“Sacrifice??? What the fuck is this man up to????”

“Didn’t we have a few Scylla sacrifices a few years back. Think that was him?”

“Holy shit we did. Yeah, Posy stays away from Scylla to the best of his ability, travelling in her domain to avoid him is not a bad idea”

“‘Phro is mad that his mum died? Girl you are grasping at straws, even more than the previous two”

“Hold up, why the fuck was I not invited?! He traveled through my domain, disturbed my souls, he even woke up Cerberus with his monster wailing, I should be apart of this!”

“I mean it’s a bit weak”

“I have more grounds to be down there than fucking Apollo. Like sirens? Come on man”

“Oh ‘Phro refused huh? Only got two, that’s kinda weak coming from Athena, she usually gets at least four”

“Is that cheating? Her quick thought thing. That cheating?”

“Are there any actual rules?”

“Just, try to win, I guess”

“Oh Ares turn. Wait she lost Aphrodite, this should be over”

“I think this is more of a personal thing. Like I said, sibling spite”

“Oh yeah, Scylla! Fuck this guy is getting around”

“Oh damn, that pissed her off”

“Guessing that the guy other that Penelope, Telemewhatever was his child then”

“Oh wait they yielded?? Huh, never thought that would happen”

“And, Heras turn”

“Yeah like I said she does not give a fuck. But it was a good run”

“Yeah, keeping her four out of five streak”

“Wait what the fuck was that”

“She- she actually yielded?”

“And for not cheating! Man I love this guy, I can’t wait for him to die”

“Only you babe. Wait holy fuck she won?”

“Oh Zeus won’t like- oh, just like I said. He’s pissed”

“Is he gonna kill her?”

“If he does I’ll just resurrect her probably. She deserves a better end, even if she is annoying”

“Well, should we go then?”

“Yeah I have some paperwork to- do I hear boss music?”

“OH SHES STILL ALIVE!!”

“She took a lightning bolt to the face and lived, holy fuck. Gotta respect it”

“I think, she’s actually convincing him? Never thought I’d see the day”

“Well, she’s his favourite child. I think if Ares tried something similar he’d just get struck by another lightning bolt”

“Well, that was fun. When I come back up for spring I’ll have to check with Hermes more about the details of what’s live, actually going on with this Ody dude”

“Yeah. Wanna stop for applebees before we head on down?”

“Yeah, but let’s go now cause mum is heading like right for me and I don’t wanna deal with that until another few months”

This was dumb lol

[galedekarios]

references in gale's banter on selection

just thought i'd go through a few of his selection lines that stuck out to me.

Oh, what a tangled Weave we web!

reference to: "oh what a tangled web we weave" from a poem by sir walter scott:

"Like so very many of Shakespeare’s lasting observations, it’s  a beautifully expressed aphorism that uses just a few words to describe one life experience so perfectly, and is so true, that it enters into the English language and becomes one of its most powerful idioms – one that will last forever. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive’ means that when you lie or act dishonestly you are initiating problems and a domino structure of complications which eventually run out of control. The quote is from Scott’s epic poem, Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field.  It’s an historical romance in verse, published in 1808."

the next one is is a play on a line from a shakespeare play:

All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

the play is titled 'as you like it' and the line appears in the following monologue:

"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely Players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His Acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."

the next one appears to reference a poem:

The path less travelled.

i think this is in reference to the well-known poem by robert frost, 'the road not taken':

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

i think this ties in well with gale's wanderlust, his wish to explore different worlds and planes of existence.

the next one is a waterdhavian saying, which i already took a closer look at in one of my metas:

'Doth thy mirror crack?' Apparently not.

Early on in his learning of magic, the long-dead and locally famous first Lord (revered in Waterdeep for his role in establishing the city as it is today) Ahghairon said, "I am no wizard. I am a dabbler but no master of magic; it seems no mastery burns within me." These are famous words in Waterdeep, still known by most Waterdhavian children and all adults, and are oft referenced, as in the dry comment "No mastery blazing forth yet," or "A dabbler but no master, eh?" (Comments applied to skill trades and crafts, not just to magic use.) Tuezaera Hallowhand was a famous "lone cat" thief of Waterdeep in the 1200s DR who disappeared suddenly and is thought to have come to a violent end. She once robbed a wizard, and wrote this on his wall with a fingertip dipped in his favorite red wine: "I take things. You take freedom with your spells. Which of us is the greater thief?" This statement, too, is well remembered, and usually echoed in Waterdhavian speech by someone using the last (questioning) sentence of Tuezara's inscription.  Laeral, Lady Mage of Waterdeep for some years (when married to Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun), once publicly rebuked an overambitious wizard of the Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors thus: "If I hurl spells but think not of consequences, I am nothing. If I take lives but count not the cost, I am nothing. If I steal in the night and see not the faces of the devastated come morning, I am nothing. If I make decrees like a ruler but undertake none of the responsibilities of the throne, I am nothing. And if I do all these things in the name of the Watchful Order, I am less than nothing. Doth thy mirror crack?" These scornful words are remembered and used almost daily in Waterdeep even a century later, though almost never as the full quotation. Rather, someone will ask scornfully, "Doth thy mirror crack?" or "Hurl but think not?" or "Take but not count cost? Be nothing, then!" [source: waterdeep: dragon heist]

i think this one is very neat:

No gloom, all doom.

because i believe it references xan of evereska from baldur's gate 1. xan is infamous for his gloomy nature, often talking about his doom, the folly of the quest, etc. some of his lines include the following:

"We're all doomed! Run while we're still able." "If we are doomed to fail, could we at least do it faster?!" "Eh. Onward, to futility!" "We're all doomed." "Life is so hollow."

i think it's not so unlikely because gale also references other characters from the baldur's gate series and the forgotten realms overall, like elminster:

Elminster's not around, so might as well.

as well as halaster blackcloak, a mad mage residing in the undermountain in waterdeep:

I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away.

as well as another character from the games, edwin odeisseron:

Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you.

edwin, a red wizard of thay, was a companion in baldur's gate 1 and 2.

No rest for the wicked, I see.

a common idiom that originated from the bible:

No rest for the wicked begins as no peace for the wicked in a 1425 rendering of the Old Testament’s Book of Isaiah 48:22: “The Lord God said, peace is not to wicked men.” The sentiment is echoed in Isaiah 57:20, which in the King James Version reads: “But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.”

another bible reference may be:

Seek and you shall find me.

You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. 

from jeremiah 29:13.

more folklore than an idiom, but:

The witching hour.

Origins. The phrase "witching hour" began at least as early as 1775, in the poem "Night, an Ode." by Rev. Matthew West, though its origins may go further back to 1535 when the Catholic Church prohibited activities during the 3:00 am and 4:00 am timeframe due to emerging fears about witchcraft in Europe.

i couldn't find the poem in full, but i was able to find the line that references the witching hour:

Along whose banks at Midnight’s witching hour (So wayward Fancy dreams) aerial Beings pour!

another shakespeare reference is:

What fools these mortals be.

which is a line from a midsummer's nights dream:

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” is used in Act III, Scene 2 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare. The line is spoken by one of the best-loved characters in the play–Puck. Here is the short quote in which the line appears in:  Captain of our fairy band,  Helena is here at hand,  And the youth, mistook by me,  Pleading for a lover’s fee.  Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Puck speaks this line to his king, Oberon, while the two are watching the four Athenian main characters lost in the forest. These four lovers, whose love affairs are at the center of the play, are behaving in a way that Puck finds foolish and amusing. It should be noted that Puck bears some of the responsibility for the complicated relations between Helena, Demetrius, Hermia, and Lysander. 

this one is, i believe, a dnd reference most likely:

May the dice roll in my favour.

i did however have the immediate association with alea iacta est:

Alea iacta est ("The die is cast") is a variation of a Latin phrase attributed by Suetonius to Julius Caesar on 10 January 49 BCE, as he led his army across the Rubicon river in Northern Italy. With this step, he entered Italy at the head of his army in defiance of the Senate and began his long civil war against Pompey and the Optimates. The phrase, either in the original Latin or in translation, is used in many languages to indicate that events have passed a point of no return. It is now most commonly cited with the word order changed ("Alea iacta est") rather than in the original phrasing. The same event inspired another idiom with the same meaning, "crossing the Rubicon".

Gone with the Weave.

this is a reach, but my mind always went to 'gone with the wind' (margaret mitchell's novel and the 1939 movie adaptation of said novel) when i heard it in the game.

nothing in depth here, i just wanted you all to know that, haha. (((':

A rough tempest I will raise.

this may be another shakespeare reference and this time it's from 'the tempest':

Prospero: Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? Ariel: On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease. Prospero: I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and's followers?

on researching, i found a reddit post that also discusses this likely reference.

the last one i want to end the post on is:

Your knight in magic armour.

this line is still bugged and thus i couldn't find it on the wiki, but it's an assist line for a romanced protag.

it obviously referenced the knight in shining armour:

The present-day use of this phrase is, of course, figurative and refers back to the notion of gallant knights saving fair maidens in distress. The reality behind that imagery is dubious and it no doubt owes much to the work of those Victorian novelists and painters who were captivated by the chivalrous ideal of an imagined court of Camelot. Nevertheless, knights did wear armour and that worn by royalty and the high nobility was highly polished and did in fact gleam and shine. The earliest reference that I’ve found to the phrase in print dates from the late 18th century – in The British journal The Monthly Review, 1790, in a poem called Amusement: A Poetical Essay, by Henry Pye: No more the knight, in shining armour dress’d Opposes to the pointed lance his breast

but it also features heavily in art, across various periods in time, like these from john william waterhouse:

i did see someone on reddit also discussing the creator and destroyer line in reference to various deities throughout history, which i thought was interesting as well.

anyhow, thank you for reading! i may have overlooked something so feel free to add your own thoughts!

🖤

[sneezegoblin]

I saw Justice LIVE and got my CD signed!!!

Normally I wouldn’t share this with the internet but I don’t want to annoy my friends too much with my Justice insanity so Tumblr has to come forth. And personally, I love reading fan encounters so this is for my fellow enjoyers :)

Summary: Fan (me) starts shaking so bad she almost glitches through the barricade. Xavier, is a sweetheart and still signs her CD!

THIS GOT SO LONG WTF (like really long)

So, Justice in Berlin: This totally epic, wow, amazing concert sadly concludes but Gaspard and Xavier procede, as usual to climb down from the stage and interact with the crowd while „The End“ blasts from the speakers.

My friend, which I befriended in line, and I are standing front row. Exactly in the middle where the stairs are at. (THE MOST PERFECT SPOT fr)

She pulls out her flexidisc (the one you got limited to the Tsugi Justice mag) and a marker. Xavier immediately spots it on his desent from the stage and makes a “:0!” face and “oohhhh🇫🇷” noise and signs it instantly. He really seemed impressed to see the flexidisc out in the wild lol. So cool! We both stood there grinning like maniacs! I was so happy for her! (Still am!! His reaction was so cool omg)

I also try do get him to sign my WWW CD but he turns and goes the other way.

Shortly after that I concluded that I might not be able to get that autograph bc after a few rounds of handshaking they went up stage again. Sad but eh, whatever. I am still blown away by the show and so HAPPY for her getting a signature. It was like I got one for myself lol.

My friend INSISTED that we will somehow get my CD signed (😭🙏🏻) but I accepted my fate at this point.

Gaspard despawned BUT! Xavier suprisingly went down again! As he was descending the stairs I reached out trying to get a last decent handshake from him haha.

My friend suddenly GRABS my arm and pulles it towards Xavier, yelling “She deserves it!!!” Mortified I watch, as my arm gets shoved into his eyesight.

Then the evening gets crazy.

He immediately looks me in the eyes though his glasses, smiles and gives me a cheerful handshake, while saying something??? (I don’t remember and the cheering is too loud in the video that captured this Insanity.)

I totally didn’t expected this blatant attention seeking to work so, like the starstruck idiot that I was yelled something like, „THANK YOU, I LOVE YOU!!“ over the music. (I meant to say „I LOVE YOUR MUSIC“ but my brain shortened it to THAT. Embarrassing :,))

He then again started signing stuff (At this night he signed so much stuff it was really sweet!)

My friend proceeds to shout at me to get my CD out again (I’ve put it away at some point).

I fumbled for my CD, while he was distracted by another lucky fan getting their Hyperdrama Vinyl signed. Patiently I try holding out my WWW CD and marker, while also trying to be cool about it.

Emphasis on “trying”, bc at this point I began shaking BADLY. Aghast I looked at my trembling hands and hoped for divine intervention or SOMETHING for it to stop before he notices.

My prayers weren’t heard bc at this point my friend next to me notices my chihuahua shaking and exclaims surprised and LOUD “Oh! She’s shaking!” She’s so nervous!” (the callout 😔 she apologized for that outburst later haha) and grabs my CD holding arm to steady it.

OF COURSE, of all things this catches his attention again

Xavier was now looking at me again in all his golden shiny glory, telling me again smiling “it’s okay 😁🇫🇷”

My answer was a laughed “I know! 😭” and to apologize (💀).

He grins, then looks at me through his shades, leans in and points with his right hand at my left ear and asked with a smirk „Where You listening to music while our show? 🇫🇷“ (context: I lost one of my plugs before the Encore and only had AirPods at hand. Not ideal! But better than nothing. The music was LOUD!)

Half of my brain was short-circuiting and caught off-guard by him directly addressing me and of his hand movement so close to my face I almost didn’t catch the question. He clarifies (bc I prob looked like a deer in headlights) and points at his own ears (still holding the aforementioned Hyperdrama vinyl) still smiling.

I managed to answer franticly with „HAHFAKDhaHa no no no Im not listening to music! I wore them for the music- the show! It was just so loud! hAhaHA” (imagine that sentence with the most juicy german accent you can imagine. Bye, bye C1 Level English skills.)

He nodded and made an acknowledging noise and shortly got distracted by the vinyl he was still holding that he quickly signed and gave back.

Meanwhile I was mortified at my own rambling and wishing for somebody to RELEASE ME from my embarrassment.

I was somehow still shakily holding my WWW CD and marker and REALLY embarrassed at my own reaction. But it was hopeless trying to stop the shaking. My friend was just patting my back and grinning and trying to soothe me (“it’s okay!”) but I was prisoner to my shaking form. I just repeated laughing shakily, “I know! Just ignore it! I’m sorry! :,,))”

He turns his attention back to me again after he returns the vinyl and sees me, probably looking absolutely mortified at my trembling CD-holding hand and apologizing profusely.

YOU KNOW WHAT HE DID NEXT?? I was still looking at my hand at this point trying telekinesis to WILL IT to STOP SHAKING. Suddenly two hands lightly took hold of my trembling CD-holding hand. I looked up and there was Xavier, in his shiny custom Celine jacket wearing glory HOLDING MY HAND??? What the fuck.

I REALLY want to know what typ of face I’ve must’ve pulled because he just started grinning at me as I looked up at him and again repeated, “it’s okay! 😁🇫🇷” and smoothly took the CD with both of his hands and then marker from my other hand and started signing the CD.

Guys, I died on the spot.

I just put my head into my shaking hands and laughed a frazzled “oh my god” and thanked him.

My friend (happy her determination paid off) smiled and pats my shoulder (she’s the real mvp here fr).

Meanwhile Xavier all smiley signed my CD and after briefly pausing adds a heart next to his name and gives it back to me.

I thank him and he answers with “…so good (…)”???? (can’t remember what he said and the video again didn’t catch it.)

Yeah, it was crazy.

I don’t know whether I should be happy or die of cringe. Either way, Xavier is a certified sweetheart hahaha

(real footage of my hands. JUST LOOK AT THEM! TRAITORS!!)

The signature :DD

[yiplee]

Would you be able to write something for lee Professor Chaos and ler Mysterion? Maybe Chaos challenges Mysterion to an epic showdown to the death but Mysterion is merciful and chooses to instead tickle Chaos into submission. Chaos tries to remain evil and threatening but can't stop giggling adorably and is so flustered over being defeated by tickles.

Hii anon! I got your request right after posting a fic about lee Mysterion lol! Thanks for the request! I love these two together and would’ve probably written a fic of them anyway lol!

Pre-authors note my friend said smth that gave me a crazy lee mood mid writing so thank them for the motivation it gave me to finish this 😍😍

So now without further ado leeets geeet into it!

———————————————————————

Mysterion cautiously snuck into Professor Chaos’ backyard, looking around for any sign of the evildoer.

“Chaos?” He called quietly. “Chaos? I got your letter. I am prepared for the challenge.” He announced, wondering if anyone was listening.

Professor Chaos’ evil chuckle swept through the air, and Mysterion whipped his head around to see where it was coming from.

Suddenly, a thick line shoots from one of the windows of Butters’ house and hooks onto one of the fence poles. Mysterion flinches as the hook barely misses his face.

Professor Chaos ziplines down on a coat hanger, and Mysterion is silently impressed by the move.

“Hello there, Mysterion.” The tinfoil-dressed villain started, deepening his voice to a sinister tone.

“Hello, Chaos.” Mysterion echoed, looking his opposer up and down. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can always choose a lighter path-” Mysterion started, but Professor Chaos shot him down real quick.

“Eh- shh shh, no speeches. Only showdown.” He said with a dramatic edge to his voice.

Mysterion nodded darkly. “Very well then.” He agreed, turning to begin slowly circling the evildoer, who began circling him as well. They were now just walking in one big circle, on either side of eachother, staring eachother down.

Truthfully, neither of them actually knew what this battle would entail. Fake fighting? Real fighting? No, Butters was too innocent for that.

Mysterion quickly whooshed around Chaos, tripping him skillfully, so that he fell onto the grass.

“Blasted hero!” He exclaimed, going to get up, but Mysterion stepped on his chest, keeping him down.

“Don’t bother trying to get up, Chaos. I’ve got you.” Mysterion growled, quickly kneeling over the other.

“I..I uh..I knew this would happen—in fact, I let it happen! So I could..uh..I..uh..” Professor Chaos stammered, trying to think of a way out of this.

“Save it, Chaos.” Mysterion hissed. “You asked for this.” He replied darkly.

Asked for what, exactly? Mysterion didn’t know. He was still figuring out what he was gonna do. I mean, Chaos is looking up at him like he’s actually gonna do something, and there’s already an awkward silence going, and…

A lightbulb might as well have lit up above Mysterion’s head, because an idea hit him so fast it hardly felt like he even came up with it.

“Are you ready, Chaos?” He said in a menacing voice, raising his gloved hand threateningly, fingers posed in a claw-like position.

“D…Do your worst, goody two-shoes!” Chaos called back bravely, but internally he was nervous as all hell.

Suddenly, Mysterion’s hand flew down, quickly skittering across Professor Chaos’ belly. He yelped with surprise, quickly covering his mouth to silence his bubbly giggles.

“Myst- Mysteriohohon!! This is meahahant to be an epic bahahattle!!” Chaos squeaked, trying not to break character, but that was pretty hard when you had the cutest giggles in the entire universe pouring out of you.

“Oh, so you’re saying this is nothing then? Then I guess you won’t mind taking that! And that!” Mysterion teased smugly, a smirk growing on his own face as he lightly pinched bits on Chaos’ sides, making him squeal.

“WAHAHAHAHAIT MYSTERIOHOHON!!” Chaos thrashed about under his caped counterpart, but his attempts were fruitless as Mysterion continued without letting up.

“So, do you surrender, Chaos?” Mysterion asked, scribbling his gloved fingers along Professor Chaos’ sides.

“NEHEHEHEVER!!” He shrieked stubbornly, seeing this as a way to at least barely stay in character.

Mysterion raised an eyebrow. Knowing Butters, he would’ve given up about a thousand times by now. Although he supposed this was Professor Chaos he was dealing with now.

But, it’s not like he was complaining. He went up and down the villain’s ribs next, digging into the bits inbetween.

Professor Chaos grabbed Mysterion’s wrists, trying to pull him off, but he was severely weakened.

Mysterion’s hands spidered up the ribs and slipped into Chaos’ armpits, him letting out a shriek.

“WAHAHAHAIT NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!!” He pleaded, his arms flying back down in a failed attempt of protection.

“Okay, surrender then.” Mysterion said blankly. “That’s all you have to do.”

Chaos shook his head stubbornly. So Mysterion continued, tracing circles into the skin under the other’s arms.

“WAHAHAHAIT OKAHAHAHAY I SURRENDER! I SUREHEHEHENDER!!” He squealed. He couldn’t take any more. Mysterion chuckled and let go, letting Professor Chaos recover.

“You okay, Butters?” He asked, looking down fondly at his exhausted friend.

“Yeah. Yeah..” he nodded, catching his breath. That definitely didn’t play out as he had planned in his head.

[arcxnumvitae]

Who/What inspired my muses

Part 3 what do unbroken fingers feel like

Minglian: Okay, so this was around the time all the stuff with Qingshan went down. As I had established with Zhaohui earlier, I was going to need a replacement Red Eye. Minglian actually became a concept around early 2020 and didn’t actually come into play until maybe October or so of that year? Later on, at least. She went without a name for a while too while in the simmering stages. At the time, Huaxiu was a kind of different person in his capability for sweetness and caring, so with the thought that now he’d be the one to be the teacher and the guide for this new being, I just kinda thought of all the ways in which that would affect him. From the get-go, Minglian and Huaxiu were meant to have a special bond, and it was through his care Minglian that a lot of the jagged edges left from some of Huaxiu’s past trauma began to smooth over.

Zhaohui: Here we go. Like I had said earlier, Zhaohiu was actually created years before, around when Huaxiu was. It started when I reblogged one of those “send in a fc and I’ll make a muse from it” memes. Angie sent in the fc and I didn’t know anything about the series he was from other than knowing it was some books that Kirei cried sitting in her car once while reading? I actually have the original notes where I was jotting down ideas for him! (I actually have them for a few muses now that I’m looking). Basically, my thought was still of someone who had a job, screwed the pooch (seriously, what is up with that saying?), and was punished for it. A curse of some form was also involved. Mainly, I made Zhaohui to be a double-agent in what was going on with Qingshan, someone who sided with her but planned to throw her to the wolves for his own machinations. He wasn’t fully a Red Eye at the time of plotting but he ended up one as time went on. After Qingshan’s stuff happened and his curse was removed, I was already adding Minglian and decided, eh why not, and added him too.

Ruaidhri: I realized I hadn’t added a single fae past Aur? Not a single muse from where he was from? I decided to rectify that. This is also where you can see my little brain starting to do some schemes with the overarching plot regarding the fae.

Zhifeng: As Kirei said in her post, she said something to the effect of “wanna do two con muses based on The R.oad to E.l Do.rado?” And who am I to refuse? Zhifeng really started to take form after we watched the movie, and really started to solidify as I was listening to Annapantsu’s version of It’s Tough to Be a God. Especially the line and especially the tone in which she sang, “And who am I to bridle if I’m forced to be an idol? If they say that I’m a god then that’s what I am!” I remember playing that part over and over again just luxuriating in the inspiration juices that flowed from it.

Eilidh: Baby I’m making the fae brown too. Plus, H.ades and P.ersephone from H.adestown. Specifically their “Chant” songs. And, while they’re not the same types, of quirky, I think some of her quirkiness came from Amber Gray’s amazing portrayal of P.ersephone. Go listen to H.adestown. Oh! Also F.earne from C.ritical R.ole.

Aodh: The other half of the duo of H.ades and P.ersephone from H.adestown. Particularly the way H.ades is, like, super in love with his wife. I was thinking the pining from the Epics, Epic III specifically, and super the bitter tone from Hades’ parts in Chant II and Chant Reprise linked above. Unfortunately, Aodh didn’t end up nearly as cool and “weighty” as H.adestown’s Hades.

Tomoe: I had been going really hot and heavy with the supernatural muses so I thought I’d buff up the normal human section to give more of a selection to any mutuals who wanted more grounded stories. And, sigh, yes, Steph, my ongoing love of R.iza H.awkeye and my love for her dynamic with R.oy hahaha.

Kasemchai: Babes, I wish I could tell you. I saw the fc and wanted to use it, from there I thought a naga would be interesting, a constant theme you’ll notice.

Tara: I wanted to explore things from Aur’s sister’s pov, since all that had been presented was his knowledge and thoughts on her plans to assassinate him. Inspirations? Mary Derrington from C.ritical R.ole (Taryon’s younger sister). And A.zula from A.vatar. So, a lot of better suited/kinda cutthroat younger sister vibes clearly.

Zaisan: Another one from Angie’s deity pantheon. Specifically me tying him into Matthias’ backstory as the one who took his eye.

Saori: @strawberryxdreams wanted to do sibling muses! So we worked out the background and home stuff together.

Etienne: I have a pretty and otherworldly fc but what if he was literally just a Dude?

Amelie: Arata’s daughter! If we sort of time jump to the future where she’s older! I thought her story was an interesting one and seeing how it played out in the future would be interesting too but she was like an npc and also 7, pft. The more interesting things happens when she’s older though since I have already actually worked out future stuff for her, so I said there was no other way to get to the good part other than jumping there.

Iomhar: What if I made a fae gentry and also made him a himbo? I thought it’d be a funny foil to how duplicitous the fae are usually portrayed as.

Taichiro: It was posed to me, “you’re going to become a lawyer, how come you don’t have a muse that does law?” Which was a thought. That I then completely undermined by placing him in an entirely different country with its own legal system so that my three years of hard-earned knowledge meant absolutely nothing anyways. Whoops? I also wanted to add more players to Tomoe’s stuff and the Kurosawa group that she works for.

Kaisei: Horns. No, no he has to be human because of the lore, no horn. But....horns? 👀 Gentle giant. Sorta came to be influenced by a joke of a guest character in C.ritical R.ole, Calianna, someone who’s 1/10 dragon-- “Okay, which ancestor climbed something they weren’t supposed to?”

Anja: More Bastion and also what if I made a snarky little shit for funsies. The last name was just a fun little nod to G.enshin’s K.aeya.

Ed: “I want another god-touched.” Also, what if I had a muse that was just, “’women’.” That’s it, that’s the inspiration. Athena’s always been my favorite of the bunch since my middle school beginning PJO days so it was high time I did something with her.

[writing-through-wonderland]

Black Butler Volume XXXII Favorite Quotes out of Context to Avoid Spoilers

Typing as discovered. Complete with cheeky little comments that I know we’re all thinking because Black Butler is basically its own aesthetic and mood. 🖤😂

Bard: Every single one of you is insane.

Sebastian: Congratulations. You are now one of us.

Sebastian: So you wish to be trained in military fashion. Fine. *Proceeds to kick Bard’s ass in the most epic of ways*

~~~

Sebastian: You must learn the duties and responsibilities of a trainee kitchen maid as you cannot even roast meat yet. Ah! Would you like to wear a maid uniform while you’re at it?

Bard: NO WAY IN HELL!

(This entire volume is basically a dedicated record of the most epic roasts that Sebastian has ever thrown at Bard… literally if you consider the chicken, which we will get to.)

~~~

Sebastian: I did not adequately explain last time as never did I imagine there was a human who cannot properly roast meat.

Bard: You piss me off every time you open your mouth.

(Heh he’s good at that. And making it look good too. 😉)

~~~

Sebastian: BALDO! THE CHICKEN! IT’S ON FIRE!

Bard: Eh? Oh.

(I mean… it’s not a rare occurrence anymore now is it?)

~~~

Bard: First of all, you shouldn’t make a man work in the kitchen. Cooking and cleaning are women’s work.

Sebastian: The 19th center is about to come to a close yet you still live in the past.

(ATTA BOY!)

~~~

Sebastian Literally With a Knife to His Throat and a Pleasant Smile on His Face: Please calm down. How about you eat something first? I personally recommend the freshly baked scones…

~~~

Sebastian Having a Picnic on an American Battlefield Checking His Watch: Oh dear it is time in Great Britain to prepare tea for master.

(Of all the things to worry about. That’s Sebastian for you.)

~~~

Bard: You can eat it. You can stop bullets with it. Flour really is good for everything.

(Okay where else would you see a line like that other than Black Butler?)

~~~

That’s all. And now we play the waiting game… again…

[the-good-projxct]

July,3rd, 2024

7:47pm what a lovely time eh? 7.47, it's just aesthetically cute. Anyway, I am listening to Kygo and Miguel’s remind me to forget.. This song used to make me cry HOT tears. LMAO. Now I kinda dance to it. I am so umm chaotic. I wanna be in my Whitney era minus the drugs and premature death. Like, she really lived her life. I wanna receive an award and say you gotta lay low. Like I want the Nobel peace prize for the Gøod projxct. LMAO, I truly feel like I deserve it. This projxct has put me through it. Creative PEI…hmm. Abi, lemme say nuttin. But God knows wagwan. This is a Gøod projxct not a petty projxct, we thank God cuz otherwise…..I WOULD BE. Ahem. About the Nobel Peace prize, you know the guy genociding Eritreans has a Nobel Peace Prize. So like if he can have one, then my dreams are valid. I honestly just want to win it and do a speech in AAVE, Sheng and KiMeru. And quote Whitney. Just be Blackity Black pon Black with a side dish of nigga pon that podium. Cuz the world deserves it. I have so much energy today. Honestly, it’s just been a Gøod day. I feel like when I get serious tings done at a slow pace my mood just boosts. I had a slow AF morning because mandem could not sleep until like 3am. I went to bed at 10pm, didn’t sleep till 3am. That is 7 hrs in bed without sleep. Ya know how crazy that is?!?!?  And if I tell a dr, they might put me on sleeping pills but I’m an addict. I will Love that shit. And the ting is, once I fall asleep, I sleep for 7-10 hrs. So the later I sleep, the later I wake up. It is chaotic. Four Five Seconds by Rihana and Yeezy just came on. This is a mood too. I wish more places played a perfect playlist for me. Like my 34th B’Earthday party. That playlist was BANANAS. That party had an insane vibe. Like hot men, hot babes, super Queer. So much weed. That smoke room was PACKED at some point. Making out in there on my day. Weuh. But all in all, the playlist which I curated was epic. Dancehall, Afrobeat, old skool hip hop. I mean, I had it alllll down to a T. Plus my mom catered. Yo. I don’t throw parties often but when I do, it is perfection. I also think I am in a Gøod mood because I have more structure. But also, Munene reminded me in a rough way, to be where my feet are. Like how is manz gonna use me against me? LMAO, I Love him. He is totally a need in my life. LMAO, I am afraid to admit it because I been a real BADMAN for soo long that I cyannottt imagine needing a nigga. But I want and I need him. And that reality is freaking me the hell out. I Love Niggas because when Niggas put their mind to it, shit be incredible. whiteness is constant mediocrity. All facts and I am saying this with my chest. Feelin’ myself is playing and what a mood. I am feelin’ myself. Anyway after talking to the King of Salone, I had dreams about him. Trippy ones too. Days like today, I remember that I am my favorite person on this planet. Like, I am so grateful the Creator chose me to be exactly how I am in this exact timeline because LAWD. What a time/vibe it is to be alive. I am a brown skin ting with brown eyes, brown hair, big yiddies and a fattie behind. I am East African with a matching forehead. I am smart, funny, witty, wholesome and chaotic. I am LOVE and I am LOVED. I am babygworl and the baddest man that ever did Live all in the same breath. Don’t play with me. I did not come to play in this lifetime, I came to slay and I came to play. I am literally the definition of what waist? If it wasn;t for my waist beads yall wouldnt be able to identify my waist line. Mscchheewww…half of yall never deserved my presence and you know it too. LMAO, lemme chill. Everyone deserves a likkle bit of King Kxndi. Anyway, DMX's ruff ryders anthem just played and this is my cue to go. 11 yr old me LOVED this song, I wanted to be tatted up like Eve. See me now. 

Anyway, lemme go enjoy this chune and reminisce on DMX. Life is SOOOOOOO Gøod. I am Gøod. Magik is Gøod. Accountability is Gøod. Self Love is Gøod. Art is Gøod.

Ase. Ase. Ase.

[sergeantsporks]

So, like, the thing is, you're right about a lot of this, especially in theory. He doesn't care about Hera's happiness, per se, or what she thinks of him, because if he did, then he'd stop cheating on her. Zeus's affairs are the worst-kept secret on Olympus. Obviously he doesn't actually care about being seen as a scumbag. HOWEVER, bringing it up in front of all the gods is an entirely different story. The disrespect comes from her not-so-quietly saying the loud part. Nothing he does can be seen as being a scumbag, but that doesn't mean other gods don't think it in their heads. That doesn't mean bringing it up isn't an ISSUE.

If the whole thing was about "questioning his authority" then he would have smited other gods besides Athena. They all voted to free Odysseus. If it was about "questioning his authority" then he would have just shut her down in the first place instead of setting up a game. Sure, he expected her to lose the game (he picked gods who had beef with Odysseus or were indifferent to him), but he still gave her a chance to win. You know how we know he gave her a chance to win? He didn't ask her to convince Poseidon. He wasn't against the idea of her winning. If he was, he would have invited the one god who will absolutely not change his mind. So her winning CAN'T be the issue at hand.

You're right: he's the god of justice. He is supposed to be just. And we know he's not rational, we know he IS a sore loser, but like I said, if he wanted total authority, he wouldn't have set the game up in the first place, or he would have invited Poseidon. The game was supposed to show his "justice." It was supposed to be a way to show his "mercy." He can't backtrack on what he's done to Odysseus. That undermines his authority. He CAN give Athena a chance to PROVE he should show mercy. That DOESN'T undermine his authority. It makes him merciful, a God Of The People. He didn't want her to win, per se, but he didn't set a challenge that she was sure to lose. And the LEAST just thing he can do is smite her just for winning a game that he set in place for her. He set that law: win, and Odysseus goes free. Backtracking on his own rules and deals directly undermines him as the god of justice whose words are law. Now, we know he's not above it, and we know he'll act irrationally in the moment, but again, if he completely wanted her to lose, he would have just invited Poseidon and the whole thing would have been over.

Finally, going back to original sources. "God games" didn't really occur in the Odyssey. Athena went up to Zeus, said "hey, can we give him a break" and Zeus went "Eh. I guess." A friend of mine put it that Original Zeus was bored, and Epic Zeus was another kind of bored where he set up God Games to entertain himself, which fits in line more with this kind of idea from the original myth that Zeus is just kinda bored so why not, let the little man free. It's a show of power, sure. But it's also a GAME.

Those original sources also come back to my original point of "it's because of the way she convinced Hera": Zeus is NOT unconcerned with how Hera views him. Sure, he's going to keep lying and cheating, because whatever, but he is NOT unconcerned with how Hera will react. He's always turning himself or his lovers into animals so that Hera won't figure out what he's done. Those are not the actions of someone who doesn't care if his wife finds out. He's always slinking around, hiding his affairs, and then scooting back to Olympus to hide when Hera inevitably DOES find out. He obviously doesn't care in the way I said earlier, where if he cared, he'd just stop cheating, but he still cares if Hera is mad at him, because an angry Hera is a force to be reckoned with. And Athena just reminded Hera about all those affairs. He DEFINITELY cares about that. Like I said, in THEORY, he'd be unconcerned because he can't be seen as a scumbag, yada yada yada, but in PRACTICE, he 100% totally cares if Hera is mad at him.

Y'know, I don't think Zeus claimed Athena disrespected him just because she won the game. Like, he's definitely a big sore loser baby, but I'm preeeetty sure it's not that she won the game, it's because the WAY she won the game was by leveraging the fact that he constantly cheats on his wife to get Hera to vote free Odysseus. THAT'S where the "disrespect" comes in. Not by winning, but by winning via reminding Hera that he's a lying cheating scumbag, hitting his marriage and more importantly to him, his sex life (aka, hitting him where it'll actually make him hurt)

[blackhannetandco]

sleep, irritating, warm, unless, cry, sail, snarky, yawn hiiiiii <333333333

Hiiiiiii <3

Sleep ~ untitled cobra kai fic

If Anthony was content enough to be set down or to be rocked to sleep in his father's arms, Amanda would let him be and hug Sam to her, play all the little games she wanted, carry her on her hip even if her arms got tired. She had the vague notion that she didn't want Sam to feel like the baby was going to get all the attention, that she had to make Sam feel extra special so that on the days Anthony took up all her time, Sam could look back on these sunny weeks and remember that she too, was loved.

Irritating ~ the "you are snowed out. you die of hypothermia" fic (don't worry no one dies) - ofmd

"Oh come on, Steve-"

Stede whirls around and fixes Jack with a glare. "It's Stede, and you know it, you - you irritating fucking imbecile!"

Jack laughs, an obnoxious sound that makes Stede wish he could destroy people with his mind. "Kitten's got claws, eh?"

Warm ~ These Small Hours Still Remain - gen It fic

But he sees the expression on Richie’s face, and a warmth fills him - this is his first friend, the one who he didn’t think he’d like until Richie just. Kept talking to him. This is his best friend, who he pinkie swore with at age 7 that their friendship would be epic and long and epically long. This is Richie, who knows about the possessiveness Stan feels over them being friends the longest, and who feels the same. If any two people can make it, if any two people can become the glue to hold seven friends together...well, maybe it’s them.

Unless ~ the crew invents the wet t shirt contest fic - ofmd

"You're absolutely sure the shirts have to be so thin?" he calls out to the crew, who are hauling up buckets of water. "We'll probably catch cold."

Lucius nods. "Sorry, captain." He doesn't look sorry. "But you'll be fine." And then, with a smug, wide grin: "Unless you're scared of some saltwater?"

Cry ~ #richardsbestfriend - It fic, Stan&Richie friendship

Clown Kin @ wedielikemen I’M FUCKING CRYING @ trashmouth IS WORTH LIKE 2 MILLION AND #richardsbestfriend IS REALLY OUT HERE LIKE “OH NO HE’S GONNA NEED ALL THE MONEY HE CAN GET :/ :3”

Sail ~ Ed and Frenchie's Musical Adventure - ofmd

"Pretty woman, stop awhile; pretty woman, talk awhile..." Frenchie nodded at Ed, encouraging him to come up with the next line.

"Uh...pretty woman, won't you sail with me...?"

Snarky ~ the untitled modern au where Stede and Mary are besties at university. fake dating shenanigans possible - ofmd

"Snarky isn't a good look on you," he informs her primly. She doesn't miss a beat.

"Snarky is why you're friends with me. We can be judgemental and mean together."

Yawn ~ the inception au - ofmd fic

Stede holds back a yawn - only to give in to the urge when Lucius lets out a jaw-cracking yawn of his own.

"Can't we be done for the night, Captain?"

"Don't call me that," Stede says, though he knows the boy won't listen.

And you also said Ocean ~ untitled ofmd fic

The thing about being a creature of the sea is that you instinctively know your own. So Stede knows that Ed, for all his expert handling of himself and his crew, can't call the ocean home the way Stede does. He might still not be human, but that wouldn't be a magic Stede's blood sings with or recognizes.

Izzy, on the other hand...

[kickflaw]

im-weapon: HAVE IT ALL???? my brain is singing adele, i am interested. i am intrigued. You asked for it,@im-weapon Have it All is the shrunkyclunks fic I originally started for the SCBB this year, but it grew too epic to be finished in time soooo I wrote hos & Heroes (by the end of the night) instead. SHHH YES I KNOW h&H ENDED UP AT 30K, IMAGINE HOW LONG THIS SUCKER ALREADY IS...and that's not including the fully-detailed outline. tl;dr Steve would really just like to fuck thirsty-hot mess-genius Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark's childhood best friend. Just fuck him. That's it. Nothing else. But a new enemy is threatening global security, Natasha keeps hitting on him, and Bucky's not all he seems... featuring found family, Avengers' Dinner Night, buckets of pining, robot assassins, and Halloween. Snippet under the cut.

Steve pushes at Tony’s Friend’s shoulder with his foot. The man groans, flops over onto his back and squints up at Steve, mouth slack, and he sees—red wine-stained lips; black smudged under blue eyes; gray button-down with the top two buttons undone; narrow waist in tight jeans pulled taut by splayed knees—

Oh, Steve’s mind burbles at him, like it did over the pink porridge, because here’s another thing that ain’t nothing to sneeze at.

With an irritated huff, Steve dismisses the ridiculous ripple of interest. He bends down to grip the man around his biceps, lifts him, and sets him against the wall next to Tony, where they make a matched pair of bleary-gazed, jelly-limbed knuckleheads. Good-looking doesn’t mean shit about a person. Steve, of all people, should know.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” he tells them.

“Whoa,” Tony’s Friend says. “This guy jus’ picked me up. Tone, he picked me up. With his muscles—for real, not like, t’other kind—”

“’Course he did,” Tony mutters. His silly, inebriated mood has suddenly dissipated. “He’s Cap’in ‘Merica. Can bench a motorcycle.”

“With three ladies on top,” Steve adds drily.

“Whoa,” the other man repeats, with more feeling this time.

Steve can’t help but smirk at that but he quickly schools his expression into a frown and crosses his arms: it’s what he signed up for, after all, the role of a lifetime. “Honestly, Tony? Out drinking until literal dawn?”

“An’ there it is.” Tony rolls his eyes. “Literal dawn?” He parrots at Steve. “Is it really, Rogers? Dearie me, it is. Yes, then, I s’ppose we were.”

“Uh, obviously we were. Out. Until dawn. ‘cause now is dawn and we jus’ got here,” Tony’s Friend says, chuckling. Steve suspects he might have done some drugs in addition to the wine. There’s a certain...telltale scent about him.

“Precishely. That’s us, eh? Sleep all day, party all night, like the great Kiefer Sutherland instructs. Good mornin’, Grandpa.” Tony shoves off the wall and strides in a wobbly line toward the kitchen.

Ah, Steve’s favorite. References he doesn’t understand, deliberately made.

“What if we’d needed you—” he starts.

“Keifer Sutherland didn’t say that, you dumbass,” interrupts Tony’s Friend. Steve blinks and looks at him, raising an eyebrow, to which the other man responds by adding, as if it’s very important. “His character said it. David. From The Lost Boys?”

“He hasn’t seen it,” Tony calls over the sound of water filling a glass at the sink. “Don’ waste your time. Let’s fast forward to the part where you’ve finished the lecture and fucked off, eh, Steve-o? Don’ you have, like, a thousand push-ups to go do? I need a remote control for time. JARVIS, add that to my...thing. My list.”

“Yes, Sir. Remote Control for Time, added,” JARVIS intones from nowhere.

“You’re the one who keeps talking about being prepared, Tony,” Steve says, choosing to ignore them both for the sake of his temper. “All the suits in the world won’t help if you’re blackout drunk when—”

“Sad. Should fix tha’. Such a….good movie,” Tony’s Friend interrupts again. Exasperated, Steve glowers at him, but it’s a waste: the man’s eyes are closed and he’s starting to slide sideways down and along the wall.

[lululawrence]

Hi, kust asking for a friend. Why Harry's lavender sweare is the one that managed to make in in hundreds of the fics. Lol. Can tou name any other clishe outfit of Harry's.🍌🥑

a;lskdhg;alksdfja this is a FAB ASK OMG THANK YOU!

okay, so why. an amazing question, but let's just reflect on harry wearing said lavender sweater, shall we?

i had more than just this one photo, but tumblr is being an asshole and limits me to only 10 images per post now. fuckers. but anyway, look at him! how soft and tiny and adorable??? like a tiny baby deer in a soft jumper to keep warm and comfy and gah. precious.

so in one way you have him looking adorable and cute and cuddly and comfy, but also it didn't really stick to the incredibly sexualized almost frat boy image they had for harry up to this point. he was just being himself, and we didn't get much of that. so we latched on and fic almost immortalized it for us hahaha kind of like louis and his red scoopneck. you know the one. yes, that one sticks with us forever, but it's truly become unforgettable even for those who weren't in the fandom at the time because of the fic, you know? so imo that's why. there's probably a lot more that goes into it, but as someone who came into the fandom around the time or just after the lilac jumper, this is my personal thinking on it.

other iconic harry outfits? oh heavens. alright let's buckle up, yeah? lollll

the white jeans outfit. i just. the white jeans. all i gotta say, right?

the rest is going beneath a cut, cause add photos and this sucker is long.

the blue bees shirt from the late late show. bless.

pink polka dot shirt!

the sheer rose shirt like holy wow do you know how many fics i've read where he wears this to go pull at a club or for a date to make sure he gets louis into bed? mmhmm this shirt was like the 2015 harry version of the glorious sheer nursing shirts from this tour haha i hope you know what i mean by that, they were gorgeous and i don't know that i've been able to reblog many of those to tag them correctly but he really decided to bless us with those in both black and white and i thank him for that.

also, at least for me, i love reading about when harry wears the "jizz shirt" lmaooooo god bless the photos we got of him for grimmy's fashion line in this epic shirt.

i was going to show an image of harry wearing the pink cords at the airport as well, but you'll just have to take this one, because it has not only the cords but also that bright ass shirt which i can already remember being in at least a few fics lol

there's also the iconic rolling stones tee that he wore so much that he safety pinned it together and then continued wearing it that makes many many fics, his ama's black and white floral suit, the purple sweater with the white lace collar and pearls from his brits outfit, his sheep sweatervest, and so many others. there's just so many outfits he has worn that are so easy to remember as soon as we hear them even slightly referenced, and that's the kind of outfit that we want to have available, right? haha harry has PLENTY of them really. we are very lucky in that way hahaha

so cliche? eh, maybe. memorable? absolutely. iconic, hands down. other opinions are likely to vary from my own, though hahaha

[nottheweirdest]

Sonadowtober Day 10: Medieval

This prompt has been the hardest for me so far and I'm not in love with what I made, but eh, hopefully you still enjoy it!

For most a trip to a renaissance fair wouldn't equate a trip down memory lane.

Most people aren't Sonic the Hedgehog.

The clanging sound of metal on metal rang through the air while the smell of cooking meat made Sonic’s mouth water. There was the far away nicker of horses and clucking of chickens, vendors calling out to market their wares, and the babble of young children running underfoot. It was a familiar atmosphere, one he hadn’t expected to come across again.... Well… ever.

And that had been fine really. Leaving Camelot quite literally in the past had been easier than dwelling on the life and… connections he’d left behind.

“You’re quiet,” Shadow said, aimlessly scanning the merchant stalls that lined the straw-covered path they walked. “You haven’t said much at all since we arrived.”

Sonic shrugged, eyes combing over the costumes worn by medieval actors and noting the substantial inaccuracies. “Maybe renaissance fairs aren’t my thing.”

“I thought you were excited.”

Sonic had been. For a moment. When he first saw the flyer advertising the weekend’s main event he’d felt a hopeful lurch, as though the people he’d left behind in another time and place might just be there. That moment just happened to have been the one Shadow saw. He didn’t see the following sag in his shoulders or far off look of pain. “Guess it’s just a little different than I thought it’d be.”

Shadow frowned in concern, eyeing his boyfriend carefully. “We can leave--”

“No! It’s just--”

Sonic’s ears perked forward suddenly, the very distinct sound of steel clashing against steel capturing his attention. His heart soared in recognition, and he darted forward without thought.

Shadow called out for Sonic to wait, but it was no use. The other hedgehog had already disappeared into the crowd.

The dark hedgehog growled and glared at the people who swarmed in his way. He brushed past them roughly, until finally, sensing their impending doom, a path formed around and in front of him. He stalked forward, finally spotting cobalt fur amidst royal purples and hunter greens at the base of wooden stands. “Sonic!” he called out, finally receiving a single backwards glance in acknowledgement.

“They’re doing it wrong,” Sonic said as Shadow joined him. “They’re not even holding the sword right.”

The hybrid looked out to the small sand-filled arena where two Mobians armed with broadswords circled each other, not noticing anything obviously wrong. He returned his gaze to Sonic who stood absolutely transfixed. “I wasn’t aware you had experience in swordsmanship.”

Sonic nodded nervously. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t told you about that, have I?”

“You know how to use a sword?”

“Yup.”

“And are you going to... elaborate on that?”

Sonic finally looked into crimson eyes and Shadow noticed for the first time the tinge of sadness lining his features, putting it together with the distance he’d felt between them since they’d arrived. “Are you afraid to tell me?”

Sonic swallowed hard and looked away, turning back toward the sparring match playing out before them. “Yeah. A little.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Shadow wrapped his arm around Sonic’s waist and kissed the side of his face. “It hurts me to see you hurting. Tell me if you want, but don’t worry about my feelings. I can handle myself.”

The hero hesitated but then finally leaned into Shadow, resting his head on the hybrid’s shoulder as they continued to watch the match. “A while back, years ago now, I got sucked away into another dimension.”

“Ah, a medieval one?”

“You guessed it. There were copies of all our friends there, including….”

Shadow pursed his lips, feeling a flare of jealousy despite himself. “Including me?”

“Yeah. Lance, he uh, he was your double there,” Sonic continued, memories swirling and building in his mind of epic battles and the most devoted of knights. “World saving ensued and then afterwards they crowned me king.”

Shadow couldn’t help the jolt of surprise that ran through him. “King?”

“Yeah, crazy, huh? Me. King. Anyway, I was actually there for a while. Months, almost a year, helping restore order and…”

Inside Shadow felt that knife of possessiveness twist in his gut again. “I see.”

Sonic turned his back toward the escalating fight so he could face his boyfriend. He reached for Shadow’s hands and licked dry lips before continuing. “It wasn’t like that. Well, I mean. It could have been. There were… moments, but I--” Sonic took a deep breath. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. For all that you looked identical, you were two different people. And I already had feelings for you. Even then.”

Shadow took a moment to process Sonic’s revelation. “Do you… have feelings for him? This doppelganger of mine?”

“Not romantic ones. I love you. The you you are here, in this world, on this planet, with me.”

Shadow’s shoulders relaxed slightly and he pulled his love to him, embracing him in a tight hug. “I can’t blame my double for his interest in you,” he whispered into a blue ear. “Or you your interest in him. I would expect I’m irresistible in any dimension.”

Sonic laughed and pulled away, swatting at Shadow’s shoulder playfully. “I do miss him, and the others. I came to care about them a lot, but being here with you? This thing we have? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Good,” Shadow said, voice deep and rumbly as he pressed his lips to Sonic’s in a light kiss. “Because I would follow you to any world, or any universe to hold you to that.”

Sonic grinned as he kissed his love.

His one and only.

[samstree]

Hug a Witcher Day (2/3)

In which Jaskier gets drunk and Geralt gets hurt. Hug a Witcher Day is coming around again, but so are certain feelings.

(hurt/comfort, geralt whump, soft jaskier, more yearning, 3k, rated T, blood and injury)

read on AO3

“No! Not Summer Solstice!” Jaskier shouts drunkenly to the lady approaching Geralt with open arms and then proceeds to use his own body as a shield to stop her advance, his footsteps unsteady. “Saovine! It’s the day before Saovine! I literally just performed the song five minutes ago so I don’t know why you guys keep coming at him. Today is not Hug a Witcher Day!”

Jaskier’s face is red as a beet. It’s no shock that he’s swaying considering the amount of wine he’s been consuming since the end of the set. She frowns at the bard like he’s crazy before muttering an apology.

“Jask.” Geralt holds onto Jaskier’s elbow just in case. He notices the tankard in the bard’s hand is empty again. “Come on. Let’s sit down.”

“But they—”

“I know and it’s all right. Just follow me,” Geralt explains, steering the bard away patiently. Arguing with the bard when he’s inebriated has never been wise.

The bard begrudgingly follows him to the side seats and plops down, smashing the empty cup on the wooden table.

“They—they got the date wrong. It’s not today.” Jaskier slurs in all seriousness to the witcher, his eyebrows still furrowed with residual anger.

“It is not,” Geralt takes the cup away from him, in case someone refills it and the bard will enter the even more bratty stage of drunkenness—or worse, the sappy stage. Geralt shudders at the memory of the Elder-speaking stage where Jaskier delivered an epic on top of a table. “I know it’s the wrong day, Jaskier, but you need to stop telling them off. You haven’t gotten paid for tonight.”

“What? Who wants to pay me for tonight?” Jaskier squawks indignantly, scrambling to pull his unbuttoned doublet together like a blushing maiden.

“Not tonight,” Geralt snorts, tilting his head towards the bustling party. “Tonight. The solstice celebration?”

The gears turn slowly but the bard eventually catches on, relaxing and folding his arms on the table.

“But everyone tried to hug you in the middle of the party.” Jaskier’s voice gets smaller and smaller in the din of the room. “It must be bad for your senses. You know, witcher senses…sensitive. People too grabby…bad.”

Geralt blinks, surprised at Jaskier’s concern. He hasn’t realized how crowded the hall is and how much noise is in the room. It’s a mixture of loud conversations and drunk giggling. Quite a few nobles did mistake the date in the song and come to throw their arms around him. It turns out being privileged also destroys all the shyness in one’s personality. It was…not uncomfortable until one woman’s hand traveled way lower to be considered proper.

He wasn’t going to fight her off—the lady being tipsy and old-aged and all, but that’s when the bard started to interject, blocking newcomers.

It was also when Jaskier started drinking.

Something warm swells in Geralt’s chest as he watches the bard drop his head on his forearms as if his neck can’t support the weight. Heavy-lidded blue eyes flutter shut for a second but he stubbornly reopens them.

“My thanks, for defending my honor.”

Geralt feels a languid smile tug at his lips, one that is slowly returned by the bard.

“Any day, my big strong witcher,” Jaskier says. “Especially the wrong day.”

The bard continues to shift his arms, trying to find a comfortable spot to pillow his chin, but the hard table is giving him trouble. He then notices the witcher sitting right next to him with a soft oh and, in one smooth move, takes Geralt’s arm and cushions it under his face.

It seems to satisfy him, hogging Geralt’s forearm and pressing his cheek over the sleeve. With a few nuzzles, Jaskier lets out a contented sigh and closes his eyes, leaving Geralt leaning forward awkwardly.

Although the witcher is strangely not in the mood to take his hand away, even when Jaskier is cutting off the circulation in his arm. A drunk bard is a force to be reckoned with. It will take some serious efforts to get him back to the inn—big strong witcher or not.

Just when Geralt thinks Jaskier has dozed off from the combination of post-performing exhaustion and too many cups of Toussaint wine, an incoherent murmur rumbles against Geralt’s skin.

“Can’t blame them—” Jaskier turns his head away, facing the other side, the warmth of his breaths ghosting over Geralt’s wrist. “—that they want to… but if I can’t…”

The bard trails off until the witcher can’t make out the words even with his enhanced hearing. Soft snores follow soon after.

Geralt shakes his head and scoots closer, just in case Jaskier needs more parts of him as pillows.

 *

Autumn is around the corner before Geralt notices.

One moment the bard is complaining about the mid-summer heat and how the humidity is ruining his instrument, the next trees are already peppered with golden yellow.

The wyvern contract in a small village should be a quick and easy one. Only a scared newborn is spotted in the past month, possibly lost and lashing out. Geralt intends to time it perfectly so that he can finish it just a few days before Saovine, which means they’ll be on the road during the holiday, which means they will be alone on the day.

His day.

The whole conversation is thoroughly planned out in Geralt’s head, one that he’s certain will do the trick.

Isn’t today Hug a Witcher Day, Jask? Not getting it wrong this time, eh? Wait, there’s no one else on this empty open road. What a shame! After all, you are the one who invented the day. Wait, you want to give me a hug? Hmm, I don’t know… Fine, if you insist, but only because I don’t want you to break your own tradition.

He plays out those lines over and over again while entering what is rumored to be the baby wyvern’s nest with a smug grin on his face.

It’s fine to get a little excited. No one is here to see it anyway.

And the grin disappears when both wyvern parents emerge from the cave, prepared to protect the baby behind them.

Oh well.

When Geralt stumbles back to the inn with too many claw marks on his chest and blood soaking through his jerkin, he decides that the plan is shit from the start anyway.

Jaskier won’t hug him out of the blue. There’s always a reason if the bard touches him, like this moment, like when he rushes out of the door to meet Geralt and to put his uninjured arm around his shoulder. Like when he puts a hand at the small of Geralt’s back to keep him from stumbling. Like when he carefully steers Geralt into their room, settles him on a chair, and coos over the wounds with sweet nothings.

“I have to remove your shirt. It’s stuck with all the blood,” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s chin up so he can no longer see the mess all over his chest. Instead, blue fills his vision, wild and far-away, like the autumn sky. “Look at me, all right? Just focus on me, my dear. Don’t look down.”

He’s seen much worse on himself, but Geralt obliges anyway.

Lost in those cornflower blues, he almost doesn’t wince when Jaskier tears the fabric away.

“Sorry,” Jaskier whispers, but his movements never falter. “Just a moment longer.”

The burn of alcohol and the needle barely register in Geralt’s mind. All his senses are overwhelmed by Jaskier and the faint floral scent on his warm skin, the grounding touch of his palms, the soft apologies that slip through his lips, and then, the cold empty feeling of their absence.

Geralt lets out a small whine when Jaskier leaves him to retrieve the bandages, and it’s enough for the bard to fuss again.

“Shh, it’s okay. You are doing so well.” The bandages are wrapped firmly over the wound. Both of Jaskier’s hands reach behind Geralt to pass the roll and it brings him unbearably close.

Oh, it’s like Jaskier is hugging him.

For a split second, Jaskier’s face is almost pressed against Geralt’s collarbone, his hair ticking the side of his jaw. Those arms that he knows to be strong and thick are circling Geralt’s torso and squeezing gently.

He groans again when it ends.

But alas, it’s bound to end at some point. With his injury tended, there’s no need for Jaskier to keep showering him with touches and soft words.

Geralt doesn’t notice how Jaskier has the strength to put him in bed, the blood loss making the floor swim under his feet, but the mattress dips invitingly and Geralt finds himself cocooned by warm blankets.

Jaskier is still touching him.

“Comfortable?” Jaskier asks, his fingers carding through Geralt’s entangled hair soothingly and the urge of saying no is overwhelming.

No, not when your arms are not around me.

Geralt nods and a tired smile lights up Jaskier’s face. It’s a reserved one, mixed with relief and worry, and it’s so beautiful Geralt wishes he could cry at how it’s making his heart swell three sizes and filling up all the space in this chest. To think he’s the one who gets to see it almost makes up for not getting a hug from Jaskier.

Cold realization sinks in. He won’t get a hug from Jaskier on that day, because they’ll have to stay in town until at least Saovine.

Because he’s reckless enough to get injured like this.

His dismay must be showing on his face because Jaskier is fussing even more. “What is it? Is anything wrong, Geralt? Talk to me. What can I do?”

Jaskier’s brows furrow, his blue eyes wide with worry. Geralt desperately wants to soothe him, to catch the hand that is currently caressing his forehead, but all his strength seems sap.

Jaskier won’t hug him.

But it will be his day soon.

“Yes, your day,” Jaskier chuckles, and Geralt realizes belatedly that he’s said the last part out loud. “That godsdamned day. I never should have written that song. But let’s not think about it for now. You should rest.”

“No…” he croaks.

The regret in Jaskier’s voice is so wrong, so out of place that Geralt would do anything to banish it. He needs to tell Jaskier that he doesn’t mind the day. He needs Jaskier to know that a hug from him is all he can think about for the past year.

But none of those words gets out. The pull of sleep drags Geralt under despite his reluctance, the dark splotches filling his vision.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it. Rest, my dear.” Jaskier’s soft coaxing is the last thing Geralt hears before slipping into oblivion.

In the land of dreams, Geralt feels arms circle around him, grounding him with the pleasant weight. A warm body is pressed against his side, curling up around his frame protectively. He leans into it, just to feel soft breathing against his skin.

He wishes that he doesn’t have to wake up.

 *

Geralt starts the second Hug a Witcher Day sitting at the corner of another tavern.

On top of his witcher healing, days of rest have made sure those wounds from the wyverns are completely healed, but Jaskier seems to disagree. The bard is still hovering, insisting on fetching Geralt everything and helping him get around all the time.

Geralt would scold him for being over-dramatic if he wasn’t enjoying being the center of Jaskier’s attention so much.

“No! You sit tight,” Jaskier says, stoping Geralt from getting up with a hand on his shoulder. “I will get the juice for you. What would they think of me if I let an injured friend do chores?”

“Who’s they?” Geralt asks.

“Oh, you know.” Jaskier backs to the bar, gesturing vaguely into the air. “The…masses. The fans who know about the good-hearted nature of Master Jaskier and worship my music for the very reason.”

The bard bumps into an empty chair when he turns, and Geralt glares at him. Jaskier’s theatrics almost distract him enough to miss the commotion from the street.

Coming towards the tavern door are the footsteps of another witcher, the lightness of his feet on the cobblestone unmistakable.

Geralt is alert in an instant, prepared to call Jaskier back. There could be trouble if someone from another school passes town.

The rider is approaching the tavern but he’s stopped quite abruptly, and Geralt hears the most familiar and bratty scowl known to men.

“Oh, come on! This fucking day! No, I don’t hu—” Lambert lets out a groan as someone obviously pulls him into a hug. “—Urgh, fine!” The other person is thanking him profusely. “All right. You’re…welcome. Yes, it’s fine…”

Lambert’s tone softens as the man continues to chat after the hug, rambling about how a witcher with white hair just fought off three dangerous wyverns and how the locals will forever be in debt.

“Right, right. And pray tell, my good man, where can I find this witcher?” It sounds like Lambert is smiling as he asks and it’s the creepiest thing Geralt has ever heard. “And his bard is with him?”

It won’t take long for Lambert to locate the two of them. It might be best that Jaskier doesn’t face Lambert’s ire head-on.

“Jask,” Geralt calls out anyway. “Come back here.”

“Is there any trouble?” the bard puts two cups of grape juice on their table, and Geralt only sighs.

“Remember when I said you should avoid—”

“Geralt!” Lambert bursts into the door with a bang, startling all the patrons and the owner. Jaskier even jumps and spills juice all over the table. “Where is your bar—Oh, there you are, you bastard!”

The bard is already up and facing Lambert’s incoming anger, his body placed in front of Geralt. More than once Lambert has tackled both Jaskier and Geralt rudely to the ground upon seeing them on the road as greetings.

Geralt warms at the protectiveness of his bard, but he should really be worrying about himself on this.

“Lambert, wait, he’s still hurt!” Jaskier pleads, with both hands out to stop Lambert’s momentum and, against all odds, it works

Lambert stops in his track, inches away from the bard. “My business is only with you, bard. You and your damned songs!” A dangerous glint sparks in the youngest wolf’s golden eyes.

“What—"

Jaskier on the ground before he can finish the sentence and a sharp squeal erupts in the tavern. He’s soon reduced to a giggling mess under Lambert’s vicious attacks. Chaos ensues at what’s supposed to be the quiet corner of the tavern, and Geralt can only take a sip of his grape juice to hide his smile.

By the time Lambert decides he’s had enough revenge on the bard—mostly through tickles—both men scramble up from the ground disheveled and worked up. The owner of the place throws them a suspicious side-eye but remains silent.

“That’ll teach you a lesson,” Lambert grumbles while sitting down on Geralt’s bench.

“Noted. No more hugging songs.” The bard fixes his hair with careful fingers and ignores the other witcher. “It’s not like any of you showed any appreciation. For all the thanks you’re getting, none goes to the bard.” He tsks.

“I’m sure Geralt thanked you enough for all of us. Or has he not pulled his head out of his ass yet?”

Geralt stares at his brother and his grumpy remark, confused at the meaning, but Jaskier asks first.

“What do you mean?” the bard says with half a mind still focused on the curly fringe over his eyes that sticks out stubbornly despite his fussing.

The air between them suddenly tenses. A knot forms in Geralt’s stomach, an inexplicable dread rising in his throat.

Lambert’s expression turns to something equally inscrutable and amused, which is all the more unsettling. No matter how much of a prick the young wolf is, he’s never been unreadable to Geralt in the many decades they’ve known each other. He doesn’t appreciate the suggestive way Lambert winks at him when the bard isn’t looking either.

Geralt kicks his brother in the shin, the ‘one more word and I will kill you’ conveyed silently. Anything that comes out of his brother’s mouth next can’t be good, so he has to interject.

“I told Jaskier it was fine. The song. Stop being a prick.” Or mention it ever again, the gleam in his eyes warns.

“My, my. I see.” Lambert grumbles but uncharacteristically withholds comment.

Jaskier finally gives up on fixing his hair, frustrated. “Must you ruin my hair every time? Now I’m sure you two can behave while I order us more food?”

Now that Geralt is so close to Jaskier, watching him going up to the owner behind the bar and holding the most mundane conversation on this morning, the ache slowly returns.

He wonders if Jaskier wrote the song thinking about hugging him. After all, the bard is the most devout advocator for changing witchers’ image. He wonders if Jaskier would give him one if he asked.

They’ll have to be alone first.

And yet, when Jaskier comes back to the table, the owner is following behind. If the bard has ever been sheepish in his life, it would be this moment.

Lambert realizes his intention first.

“No more hugging,” he deadpans, nudging at Geralt’s ribs. “Once is enough. You take the rest of them.”

“The wyvern almost killed her husband.” Jaskier sounds a lot less confident than normal, hesitant even. “Please, Geralt? She just wants to thank you.”

The owner is a woman near her forties or fifties, her expression hopeful. Geralt stands up, opens his arms, and tries to make sure his smile is as friendly as possible. Putting people at ease has always been Jaskier’s strong suit, not his.

But her relieved smile brightens up her whole face after they share a simple hug, her steps lighter when she leaves.

“She told me that she was worried sick for him. Her husband.” Jaskier explains, fidgeting with his fingers like every time he does before an important performance or competition.

“Jaskier.”

“You know that song is not out of nowhere, right? Well, the line ‘hug a witcher for good harvest’ was made up, but… you do make a difference, Geralt. I wanted them to know all the ways you’re making the world safer, and the hearts a little less broken. Just like you did for her.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt stills the bard’s hands before his nails dig into his palm too deeply. “It’s all right, I understand.”

“You do?”

“I told you I’m fine with some strangers hugging me for a day,” Geralt chuckles, “Because I’m not doing it for—”

The words trail off. Beside him, Lambert is scooching over in the least subtle way and any words Geralt had a moment of bravery to voice instantly die in his throat. He releases Jaskier’s hand.

“Don’t stop on my account!” Lambert starts to drink from one of the cups of grape juice, slurping loudly. “You being a sap is disgustingly adorable. I want to see how it goes.”

The moment is ruined further when another man comes over asking for a hug and he’s not the only one. More people are noticing the day and two witchers and the bard sitting in the room, looking at their table expectantly.

Jaskier leans back, making room for more incoming townspeople.

It seems that Geralt will be busy hugging this year as well. He just doesn’t know if all these people can fill the Jaskier-shaped hole in his chest.

---

Should I end this story with hugs, kisses, or *wink* something more? Tell me what you think! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @birdsflyhome @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[thunder-at-dawn]

Old Memories

Word count: 2,474

Summary: Late in the night, the king receives an unexpected visitor, who attempts to help him remember his past.

I spent way too much time writing this goodbye

warning: this is a sfw tickle fic! don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable :]

OH also if you tag as ship i will block you <3

Why couldn’t he remember?

It was a simple question that burned in his mind.

Why. Couldn’t. He. Remember.

Eret sighed, sitting on his throne as he reflected on past events. It was late at night, he should probably be sleeping right now. However, his mind was racing with thoughts of Foolish, the peculiar totem-shark hybrid that he had previously befriended. He was kind and comedic, but his talk of a “wither cult” in a previous conversation had swarmed Eret’s mind.

It was incredibly frustrating. He had asked other people on the server, and none of them have heard of a wither cult. Even Phil had no clue what Eret was asking him about.

Maybe there were books that had the information that the king was looking for. Maybe there was something in his castle. There was no way that this was just...erased from history. There had to be something.

With a yawn, Eret stood up from the throne and equipped a torch in his left hand, as the castle could be quite dark in some areas at night. The king wandered through the halls until he approached an area of the castle that acted as a small library.

This room had bookshelves that were lined along the walls, as well as a table with chairs in the center of the room. There were also some bookshelves that started at the walls and then expanded out into the center of the room. Everything was lit by one hanging lantern in the middle of the ceiling.

While it was a small library, there had to be something on the history of withers. Eret believed that this wouldn’t be something that would disappear without warning. He scanned through the bookshelves, looking for anything that could be useful, when something caught his eye.

“The History Of Withers: An Analysis.”

The black hardcover book sat on a bookshelf next to the table. It had a fairly large spine, and Eret knew it would be packed with research. He set the torch on a nearby wall, then reached towards the book. However, what the king didn’t expect to see behind the book’s place on the shelf was two emerald eyes greeting him.

“AH!” Eret yelled in surprise, dropping the book and covering his mouth.

A soft chuckle was heard as a familiar friend emerged from the other side of the bookshelf. “Haha, sorry about that! Did I spook ya?”

A small groan left Eret’s mouth as he checked the clock momentarily. He wasn’t exactly mad or annoyed, just shaken up. “Foolish...it’s nearly one in the morning! What are you doing here?”

“Just passing through the area!” The totem nodded. “I was wondering if you could have any spare lapis that you weren’t using? I need some for my summer home.”

“...Yeah, I should have some in a chest on the second floor in the tower left to the entrance of the castle.” The king said after a moment of thinking. “Grab as much as you need.”

“Got it! Thanks, old pal!” Foolish said before turning to leave the room.

“Old pal.”

Every time that nickname was brung up, Eret felt like he was being stabbed in the stomach.

Why. Couldn’t. He. Remember.

“...Foolish, wait.”

The other turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Can you...” Eret paused, struggling to find the right words. “Can you come back in here with me when you’re done? I wanted to talk with you about some stuff.”

“Oh, sure! No problem, buddy!” Foolish nodded with a grin before walking out the door and out of sight.

Once Foolish had left, Eret let out another long sigh, leaning down to pick up the book that he had been scared into dropping. The king mustered his strength to lift the book onto the table, as it was heavier than it looked. After taking off his crown and setting it on the table, Eret sat down, starting by looking through the table of contents.

Behavior of Withers. Wither Powers. Myths and Legends. Nothing about a wither cult. Damnit! Why was this so hard to find?

Myths and legends...maybe a cult would fall under that category? He flipped to the page where the section started, skimming through the first few paragraphs.

“I’m back!” Eret looked up to see Foolish making an entrance. The totem pulled out a chair and sat next to Eret. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Um, yeah. That, and I want you to stay here and take a break from building.” Eret nodded.

Foolish groaned, slouching in the chair. “But Eret, I want to build! I have so much energy, I could build so much right now.”

“You’ve been building almost daily ever since you got here, you need to take time to rest.” The king rolled his eyes with a smile.

“...Fine.” He sighs, playing it up and not actually upset. Well, he was a little bummed, but Eret was right, he needed to rest. His eyes averted to look at the book on the table. “What’cha looking at?”

Eret looks up as his friend, then back at the book. “Well, I wanted to do some research on what you mentioned to me a while ago. About...a wither cult.”

Foolish blinked in surprise, before leaning over and examining the book. “...Myths and Legends? No, that’s not right.” Without hesitation, he stood up and started quickly flipping through the pages. Eret let out a small gasp of surprise, but didn’t question anything. After about a minute, Foolish sat back down. The book was now open to a page with some gibberish writing as a chapter title.

“I...What?!” Eret examined the page, unsure of what information it had to offer. “Foolish? How did you-“

“Eret. I’ve been alive for years, I’ve had plenty of time to do some light reading.” The totem interrupted, a sarcastic tone in his voice.

“Whatever you say.” Eret mumbled, starting to read the first paragraph. Despite the title, this section of the book was in english, and started with talk about an ancient being named Ronan. Foolish looked over his shoulder as Eret repeated the words from the book into his head.

“Anything of memory coming to you, old pal?” Foolish asked out of curiosity.

“Old pal.”

Damnit, that stab was there again.

“...No. I can’t recall any of this at all.” Eret said calmly, trying to hide his frustration. “So, apparently we fought against this...this Ronan guy and his army of cultists?”

“Yep! That’s the guy! Leader of the Wither Cult. Never liked him, still don’t like him.” Foolish nodded. “...You’re sure you don’t remember anything?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm...that sucks.” Foolish’s eyes averted to the lantern on the ceiling. “We had some epic battles. Definitely worth remembering, I’d say.”

Eret raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah! You were pretty good with a sword back in the day.” He nodded, then sighed. “I just wish you could remember it all.”

“You and me both.” The king agreed, looking back at the pages of the book.

“Back then, it was awesome. On the battlefield, we were a force to be reckoned with! With your sword and my lightning, we were unstoppable.” Foolish spoke, reminiscing about the past. “And even when we weren’t taking down a cult, we were still pals! We would practice sparing together, go on adventures, scale mountains, and...”

Eret looked up, taking notice of his friend trailing off. “...And? And what?”

Foolish paused, looking around at the castle walls. “Eret...are these walls soundproof?”

“What?” That was quite the peculiar question to ask. However, Foolish was a peculiar character, this was nothing new. “I don’t believe they are, why do you ask?”

“Just curious.” Foolish shrugged, before standing up from his chair. “Alright, I need you to stand up for a second.”

Eret obeyed, standing up and pushing his chair in. “Are you...taking me somewhere?” He asked.

“Good guess, but no. I’m gonna bring up some old memories, but you have to trust me. Do you trust me, Eret?” The king nodded, and a small smirk grew on Foolish’s face. “Okay, now I need you to lift up your arms, above your head, and close your eyes.”

“I need to what?” Eret asked, intrigued, but clearly confused.

“I promise you, just trust me on this one.”

Eret hesitated, then closed his eyes while slowly moving his arms upwards. “What are you going to do, arrest me?” He asked sarcastically, letting out a chuckle.

“Hmm, no.” Foolish shrugged, stepping closer towards Eret. “Instead, I’m gonna do...THIS!”

Eret’s eyes shot right open after Foolish’s plan was put into motion. His arms shot straight down as he could feel the hallows of his armpits being scribbled upon. “W-WAIT! Fohoholihish what are you dOHOHING?!” He asked, his voice filled with small snickers and giggles.

“We used to have tickle fights all the time back in the day! Don’t you remember?” The totem asked.

“Nohoho, I dohohohon’t!” Eret said back as the other once again shrugged.

“Really? Aw man, I guess I’ll just have to help you remember!” He grinned, moving his hands down to Eret’s sides, causing him to double over laughing. Eret tried to get away by slithering out of his grasp and moving closer to the floor, but Foolish was quick to lightly tackle him onto the ground, scribbling at his sides and stomach.

“The old “sneak onto the ground” strategy, eh? Nice try, but you’ve already used that against me tons of times back in the day! Don’t think I don’t know your hidden plans!” Foolish grinned, teasing the other.

“DAHAHAMIHIT!” Eret shouted, the laughter spewing out of his mouth and filling the library. He wanted to be quiet and not risk anyone waking up, but it was just too hard with Foolish absolutely destroying him at the moment.

“Remembering anything now?”

“Mahahaybehe I could thihihink and fohohohocuhuhus wihihithohout youou TIHIHICKLIHING MEHEHEHE!” Eret’s laughter pitched upwards when Foolish started to stretch and knead at the kings hips. Who knew some tickling could reduce a powerful ruler into a squealing mess on the floor? Foolish knew, and he had been waiting for the perfect time to use this information to his advantage. He didn’t even want anything like a confession of some sorts, or something like that. He just wanted to see his friend smiling again!

“Wait, I know just what will jog your memory!” Keeping one hand on Eret’s hip, Foolish hovered the other one over the king’s ribcage. Eret, who’s laughter had died down a little bit, immediately noticed this.

“Fohoholish. Foolish.” Eret tried to sound intimidating, but the giggles escaping from his mouth made it hard take him seriously. “Foolish, no.”

“Foolish, YES.” He now hovered both hands over Eret’s ribs, anticipating him for what was next to happen.

“Foolish, I swear. Do not.” Eret repeated. “Foolish. Wait, we can talk this out. You don’t need to do this. You don’t- Foolish wait. Foolish- Foolish wAIAIAIHAIT!”

Wheezy cackling filled the air as Eret’s worst spot was targeted. Foolish skittered his fingers all over Eret’s ribs, playing them like a piano to see what spots were the worst. Anytime Foolish spot found a good spot, he would zone in on it and drill his fingers into the spot, making Eret’s laughter even louder, higher-pitched, and wheezier than before. After switching to scribbling at his stomach once again for a couple extra moments, Foolish stopped, giving his friend the time that he needed to breathe.

“You doin’ okay, old pal?” He asked with a grin, laying down next to Eret on the castle floor. “Hopefully I didn’t overdo anything.”

“No...yohohou’re fihine.” The other looked at the ceiling, still a bit giggly.

“Old pal.”

That stabbing feeling. It wasn’t there anymore.

Foolish frowned, just a bit. “So...nothing came to you during that? No memories?”

“No memories.” Eret repeated with a breathy sigh. A silence formed between them for a moment until Foolish spoke up again.

“Y’know, honestly? Who cares about old memories?”

“...What?”

“I mean, sure, we can dwell on the past. Or, we can look forward to the present and future.” Foolish continued. “Obviously, I want you to remember stuff as much as you want to, but maybe, for now, we should focus on making new memories instead of focusing on old ones. We could have our adventures again, and you hopefully won’t forget about them this time!”

“I...I suppose you’re right.” Eret nodded, sitting up after taking enough time to catch his breath. “It would be nice to know more about what happened back in the old days, but...it would also be nice to focus on what’s happening in the world now.”

“See? Exactly!” Foolish agreed, standing up and reaching a hand out to help Eret off of the floor. “We can make a ton of new memories, like how I just wrecked you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll definitely remember that, so you should watch your back.” Eret chuckled, playfully sending a jab into Foolish’s side. The totem yelped in surprise, instinctively backing away. Another silence formed between them, both registering what had just happened into their minds.

“...Oh! Well, would you look at the time! I have to get back to building, it was very lovely talking to you Eret!” Foolish sputtered out, turning around and heading towards the door.

“You shouldn’t be building this late at night! You can stay here and rest more!”

“Nope! Nope Nope Nope. I’ve already rested enough.”

“Are you sure about that?” Eret playfully raised and eyebrow and started to follow the other.

“Yes, I’m very sure. Bye Eret!” Before the king could get a chance to speak again, Foolish closed the door on him. Eret let out a small laugh under his breath, waiting for a moment until he opened the door.

“Foolish, wait, relax.” He said, watching the totem hybrid turn around as he was leaving. “In all seriousness...thank you for stopping by. It really means a lot, even if it was at one in the morning and I may have waken someone up.”

“It’s no problem, Eret. Anytime, I’m happy to help.” The other nodded. “Just call me over if you need anything in the future.”

“Of course...” Eret paused before finishing his goodbye. “I’ll see you soon, old pal.”

Foolish paused, a soft grin forming on his face. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since Eret had called him that.

“Right back at ya, buddy.” He said to the other before waving goodbye.

And with that, Eret closed the door and headed back into the library. He had no idea what time it was. What he did know was that he had more knowledge about the wither cult than he previously did earlier that night, a stronger bond with his old friend, and the knowledge that in the morning, someone might tell him about hearing strange laughter in the middle of the night.

[madraleen]

The Eye of the World - Robert Jordan 3,5/5 stars

More stars, jot-it-down-as-it happens commentary, and the character that I stubbornly want to love.

Eye: of the World. Rand: My sweet bumbling boy/5 Perrin: My wolf boy/5 Mat: I AM DETERMINED TO LOVE HIM/5 Egwene: Okay/5 Nynaeve: Feisty queen/5 Moiraine: Sorry, WHO are you?/5 Lan: Iiiinteresting/5 Character evolution: Honey, where are you?/5 Plot: Fine/5 Stakes: Eh/5 Epicness: Out of the charts/5 Magic system: I am compelled!/5 World: Big/5 Lore: Unevenly offered/5 Questions: Never asked, rarely answered/5

Commentary: -Okay, but straight off I’d be inclined to like anyone named “Prince of the Morning” and “Lord of the Dawn.” I have a feeling that over the series I'll cry for this person. -The writing FEELS epic, it gives me chills without knowing why. -The Wheel of Time is the last place I’d have expected to read the line “let out a breath he had not realized he had been holding,” but here we are. -Aw, Rand is so sweet, in a fumbling, clumsy, pure youngster way. -I love the “Light!” “Light shine on me!” “Light above” etc exclamations. -I haven’t had honeycakes but damn if I don’t want to find a recipe now. -Let’s take a moment to rejoice at Rand, the first protagonist I’ve seen who actually thinks “who ever remembered the exact words they heard?” -As I’m reading, I keep wondering, will I care for these people one day? Will I cry for them, grin with them, share their inside jokes, find comfort in their domestic moments? Reading a long series when you’re already familiar with the experience makes it all so meta. -Shadar Logoth is my aesthetic. -I kinda really like Nynaeve. -Part of me wants to bitchslap Mat, but part of me likes his pureness so much. -Mat’s holding a dagger you say. Hmmmmmmmm. -You ARE hinting that Rand channels the One Power, right? -I know I’m supposed to root for Rand/Egwene, but Perrin/Egwene sounds sweet tbh. -Oof, Rand on the mast speaks to my ship-stories heart. -“Rand would know what to do/Rand had an easy way with girls” ??? Perrin, my man, are you alright. -Undulated <3. -Hahaha, and Rand thinks Perrin knows how to act around girls, that’s adorable. -Oh hello, Rand’s sick after that ~fortuitous lightning, who would have thunk. -I can’t figure out if Mat will have a hero’s arc or a corruption arc. I like it. -Oh, but shut up, Rand is so tender with Mat. -Ah, shut up, Mat is gentle with Rand too, I hate them both (that’s a fair first step for me to soon be saying I love them). -Chapters 32 and 33 are legit my favorites, I love them. -I have an odd pull towards Mat, I could either adore him or hate him. For now, I’m cautiously doting. -I feel like Rand is the kind of guy whose every second word would be a variation of “fuck.” Not for any particular emotion, not even while raising his voice. Lost? Fuck. Bumbling? Fuck. Chased? Fuck. Idling? Fuck. -Yes, that’s exactly Rand and Mat, “sly” and “vicious” /sarcasm. -Mat sure is testing my patience. Rand is so patient and forgiving. All this time he hasn’t had one genuinely mean thought about Mat. -The stinginess of information pertinent to the story bugs me. Sometimes there’s no reason at all to delay the explanation, it’s not like it’s being held for a revelation or a twist. -Rand is so damn nice. So patient, so slow to anger, and when he speaks sharply he doesn’t mean to, he’s so n i c e. -I also wish you to travel with us, Loial. -Are you setting up Nynaeve/Lan? Is that what’s happening? -The Wheel weaves what the Wheel wills. -Lan, crownless king, let me introduce you to Aragorn. -Perrin is so “this might as well happen” that it’s actually endearing. -Just for once I’d like to know what these people are constantly muttering to themselves. -Good man, Mat, shooting things with your bow in the Blight. You’ve been so wearisome that now I believe in you out of spite. Congrats. -Okay, Rand is the one male Aes Sedai, Perrin communicates with the wolves. What’s Mat’s deal? Or was it the whole dagger thing? -See, that’s the thing. Mat and Perrin – and in their eyes, Rand, too – should be refusing to take a step further until Moiraine explains wth they did there, how they dealt a blow to the Dark One, why they can now leave as they wish. Not asking questions is believable for only so long. -If the last line of the book isn’t the last line of the first season of the show, they’re missing out. -What about Logain? Will we see more of Logain? That wasn’t all for nothing, right?