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danieyells · 6 months ago

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Mc owing Romeo money and getting stuffed in the auction hall/cages and starts selling them untill they work their debt 😞 and seeing one of their friends thinking they are getting them out of there but not quite. Like I can see Kaito going deeper into debt bc it's honestly the only chance he has to touch a woman hshs or Jin buying it off but being scummy

re: Romeo doesn't threaten to sell the pc for talking back, much to my disappointment.

YES YES YOU SEE THE VISION. (FWIW these little bundles are only Frostheim, although I can certainly think up the rest. . .I already have ideas for Leo, Romeo, Taiga. . . .)

content warnings for suggestions of non/dubcon and forced prostitution. Also a warning for a scenario in which everyone is a little out of character. Except Luca, he's pretty much himself.

Jin would buy you back and absolutely be a real shit about it. You're already his servant and you already owe him for breaking that vase on top of that, how dare you let someone else use your body. Peasants at that? Somehow this is not Romeo's fault, but yours. "I suppose I'll have to give you more to do. Not only to get my money's worth, but to keep you out of trouble from now on." He places a hand on your lower back to bring you closer, your clothes still not returned by Romeo. His charming grin is somewhat cold with ill intentions, somehow not much of a contrast to the threatening warmth of his stigma activating against your skin. "You're going to thank me properly for rescuing you. You know better than to defy me by now, servant. Or maybe that's too lofty for you. Maybe now 'whore' would be better."

Tohma would come fetch you, but not before teasing you through the bars. "You're already at Jin's mercy and you've put yourself at Romeo's as well? You're a bit of a magnet for trouble, aren't you?" When Romeo unlocks your cage after being paid by Tohma, you thank him, assuming Jin sent him on his behalf and asking where he is. "Oh, no, not quite." He smiles, guiding you onto your back on the metal floor of your confines before you can make your way out. "Sorry to disappoint, but this particular expense is just for me. If you'd like Jin to come and save you, I could leave you here until he arrives himself; thus far your track record suggests you enjoy being in service of others. I wouldn't want to be so selfish as to ruin your fun just to have you for myself. . .or perhaps I could have you see to others in Frostheim, if you like this line of work. It would certainly make the place much warmer."

Luca would be kind to you, of course. He would pay your debt and do you no harm. Drape his house cloak or jacket over you to cover you and escort you out and back to the safety of the Cathedral--after having you examined at the infirmary first, of course. You can cry on him and tell him how horrible it all was. He'll be there to comfort you and hold you. If you need him to stand guard over you over night--even if it's not reasonable to think you would be abducted after your debt is paid--to help you sleep easier, he won't hesitate to do so. "If you feel comfortable enough to say. . .do you remember the names of those who hurt you? Or their faces?" He asks as you cling to him and cry. "Even the houses they were in. Anything at all. I won't let them get away with what they've done without seeing justice. Your contract with Romeo Scorpus Lucci may have soundly included such a clause, but I will have words with him as well. Such practices are unsavory. I won't let it happen again."

Kaito owes money himself, so you're surprised when he's led into the auction hall by Romeo. You figured his debts were from a gambling addiction. . .did he spend his money in here? On hookers and blow??? He runs to you like a child in an animal shelter who's made up his mind about a particular dog and looks at you with stress and sympathy. Romeo unlocks your cage and shoves him in with you. Kaito's there because he's already in debt. You're working alongside him. You're making half as much but at least you're not alone. Sometimes Romeo has you put on 'shows' together. It's strange and scary to be made to be intimate with someone you love and trust for a cruel audience. Kaito frequently attempts to appeal to Romeo, to take on your debt along with his own so you can go free, even if he has to suffer in your stead. Romeo refuses. You work together for a few days before Jin has to come fetch the both of you. You have a newfound connection, although it's profoundly awkward and uncomfortable, while still being comforting as you tightly hold each others' hand in support. When you feel strange about not being fucked day and night, you turn to each others' bodies for satisfaction. It's a unique sort of intimacy, sharing in your victimhood together, but not the intimacy you want with your best friend/boyfriend. "I--I. . . ." He snaps his head around to glare at Romeo. "I know I only paid for like an hour, but do you have to watch!?" "You really think I trust you not to formulate some escape if I leave you alone?" "YOU LOCKED ME IN HERE TOO!!!" Romeo looks at his watch and taps his fingers against the bars. "Get on with it, Fuji-kun~. TCIT." "T. . .C. . .I. . .ugh, I don't have time for this!" Kaito looks at you with wet eyes and a genuinely regretful expression. "I was just. . .it felt like the only way! Like I didn't have a chance with you unless. . . . I'm sorry! Please don't hate me for this!" Somehow, being used by Kaito makes you feel like the bad guy. Maybe it's the apologies and the tears, and the shaky words of praise, the way he hides his face in your neck and whimpers about wanting to kiss you but not like this. In the end you're stuck in there afterwards with Romeo escorting Kaito out as he vows to find some way to get you out, even if it means taking your place. Romeo reminds him that he already owes money himself, and would more likely get his own cage back alongside you. Kaito whimpers in frustration at his helplessness.

#frostheim #tokyo debunker #nsftish #dubcon cw #kaito fuji #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #lucas errant #danie yells at tokyo debunker #danie yells with anons #danie yells answers #danie yells writing #well it's not really writing it's more in the format of those headcanon posts that some people do. . . .#but it's not really headcanon either just scenario stuff. . . .

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briebo-is-a-dragon · 3 days ago

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welp. a tumblr post made me absolutely feral and so i kind of wrote a 2800 word microfic in like 3.5 hours, have this utterly unedited short little thing about a therian dragon rider and her dragon LMAO

Every step towards the stables eased the weight on her heart, allowed her to breathe just that little bit easier. Concern radiated across the bond as she approached, but no words were exchanged. They both knew she’d be there soon enough.

Her keys clinking together were almost deafeningly loud in the otherwise silent hallway, sending her heart racing as she carefully and slowly unlocked the gate. This late at night, there was nobody needed to guard the entrance to the stables – after all, who would be stupid enough to try and break into a building filled with sleeping dragons?

There was a spike of amusement over the bond at that thought, and a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of her mouth as she slipped inside, locking the gate behind her.

It wasn’t long after she approached the familiar archway, a curtain of beads drawn across it. It was quite massive, as was necessary for a creature of her mounts size, the top of it some four or five times taller than her arms could reach.

She thought she could hold out for longer, hoped that she could at least put on a good face despite the turmoil that the dragon would so obviously be able to feel over their bond, she didn’t want to cause worry.

As she pushed through the beads, parting them with a hand she could not bear to look at, she called out.

“Fa-hir—” Her voice immediately cracked, hitching on just stating her companions name.

The beast was a blur, yanking her off her feet and into an embrace before she could even so much as breathe.

“Oh little hatchling,” the dragon rumbled, “What is hurting you?”

Fahir was warm, and so so much larger than her. From her vantage point, in the creatures arms and on her side, she could only truly see its silver underbelly. In moments, however, its golden snout was pressing into her hair, gently nuzzling her in a way that made the tension melt from her body.

She buried her face into the dragons chest, skin against scales, as she allowed herself to indulge in the bond. Her view of what constituted her became fuzzy, indistinct, blurring and mixing with that of her companions. If she closed her eyes she could almost… she could feel the scales on her skin, the wings shifting nervously, the tail gently wrapping around the soft little things leg in her arms—

“Amara.”

Amara opened her eyes, her vision still taken up entirely by the underside of the dragon holding her. Despite all her swirling negative feelings, she couldn’t help but smile at hearing that name.

“Thank you,” she mumbled, only to be cut off by a snort from above her. The scent of raw beef and smoke tickled her nostrils as the breath washed over her.

“Do not thank me for using your name, little thing, I won’t allow it.”

Nobody else knew to call her by that name, nor to even think of her as ‘she’, but Amara knew that the performative ease with which the dragon presented her acceptance was, in of itself, part of the intended affirmation.

Another gentle nuzzling brought her out of her own thoughts.

“Speak, little thing. Why run all the way here so quickly, and in so much pain?”

Amara could simultaneously hear and feel the dragons words, being as close to her chest as she was. The vibrations of her speech resonated in her bones, causing her brain to rattle around pleasantly in her skull.

It did little to help her answer the question, however.

Her mouth flapped open and closed as she attempted to find how to describe the ache in her soul, to attempt to put words to the vague feelings that haunted her evenings and tore at her heart. It was only when she looked up, into her companions eyes, that she finally began to speak.

“I just- I- Being so far from you, from the bond, having it be so weak—”

Amara caught herself, taking a breath as her eyes drifted downwards and away from Fahir’s snout.

“It reminded me of all the ways in which I’m not like you, and- that… hurt.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt concern swell over the bond, curling up within the dragon’s embrace. Fahir’s voice was a sad growl that Amara felt in her chest, the dragons snout ever so gently pressed into the back of her neck.

“Oh, dear hatchling, I am so sorry.”

The tightness of the dragons arms was slowly replaced by her tail. It advanced from Amara’s ankles, coiling around her in an affectionate, possessive embrace.

“It’s nothing you need to apologize for,” Amara mumbled into Fahir’s scales, “It’s just- well- inevitable when I’m like this. Just because I want to be like you, doesn’t mean that reality can’t have sharp teeth when it reminds me of what I actually am.”

Fahir’s warning growl sent goosebumps prickling over her spine as the dragon tightened her grip around her rider.

“Amara. What have I told you about saying such things about yourself?”

She squirmed uselessly within the dragons coiled tail, letting out a noise of protest before quickly giving up. She’d had this sort of confrontation many times before, she knew she couldn’t escape unless the dragon let her.

… Amara hoped the feelings associated with that thought weren’t too transparent over the bond.

“You told me not to, Fahir, as you wouldn’t accept me being in denial, but—”

“No. No buts, or ifs, or interruptions. I won’t have them. I know what you are, little thing, and I won’t hear otherwise. Especially not from you.”

Amara couldn’t help but feel her exasperation rise as she shot back at the beast.

“But look at me!” She managed to wrench an arm free from Fahir’s grip, and waved it in front of her snout, “How does this at all resemble a dragon? How does any of me? I don’t have scales, nor claws, nor wings- I’m just human, Fahir, as much a-as that might- h-hurt – It’s the truth. It’s just…”

She trailed off as a massive claw was pressed to her lips, stopping her outburst in its tracks long enough for her to realize she had tears in her eyes. Again.

“Did you come to me tonight with the express purpose of harming yourself, Amara?”

The dragons tone was dangerous, a low no-nonsense growl that made her head spin and her hair stand on end. The claw wasn’t removed from her lips, and so she was made to speak around it.

“N-no, I- um, I apologize, Fahir,”

“Hush. You need not apologize to me – I was not the target of those statements.”

The claw migrated to beneath Amara’s chin, and tilted her head up until she was looking down the dragons snout and into her vivid blue eyes.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you, hatchling?”

What poured over the bond was almost oppressive – utter confidence in her words, a demand for her attention, a piercing request for her honesty… Amara wasn’t certain that if she opened her mouth she’d be able to form actual words.

Instead, she gently nodded her head – Fahir had told her before, even if she hadn’t been able to believe it. The dragon’s eyes narrowed.

“Well, I am going to tell you again.”

A second claw joined the first, this time softly tracing her cheek. A hint of adoration zapped Amara over the bond, of utter possessive affection, and it took all of her will not to let out some manner of reaction.

Fahir’s voice lowered until Amara felt it almost entirely in her chest, resonating in her skull and making her teeth rattle in their sockets.

“I see a dragoness, still perhaps unable to step out of her shell – fleshy and human in appearance it may be – but burning so bright and clear that I cannot fathom how anyone else could be so blind as not to see it.”

Amara let out an animal whimper, melting into the embrace as Fahir squeezed her for a brief moment, claw now tracing her jaw.

“It is how I’ve seen you since I first laid my eyes upon you, little treasure, and if I could somehow force you to see it too I would in a heartbeat. However, I cannot, not in a way that won’t stick unless you believe me.”

The claw under her chin dug in just a little bit, enough to remind her of its sharpness but not enough to draw blood.

“Do you remember what I told you when you asked why a dragon as old as I would stay here in the stables, allowing a stranger to ride me, when by all means I had the strength to leave if I wanted? When all the other dragons here are children who still yearn for the thrill of fighting and battle?”

Amara let out another incoherent noise, causing Fahir to break character to chuckle.

“Use your words, little thing – this I’d like to hear you say yourself.”

It took some effort to reorganize her brain, as scrambled as it was, though Amara somehow managed. The process and concentration involved only seemed to amuse Fahir further, if the feelings over the bond were anything to go by, which made it all significantly harder.

“Y-you said that you being here was a choice,” Amara murmured, averting her eyes, “And that you could leave if you chose, but that you staying here was evidence of my being interesting enough to keep you in one place.”

The dragon hummed in satisfaction, right before the claw once again applied pressure to the underside of Amara’s chin once again, and the amusement quickly fell away.

“So then,” Fahir growled, “Do you think that I am coddling you? That I am lying to you, when I say these things? Do you think I’d have any reason to?”

Amara let out a sharp exhalation, thoughts running through her brain at a rapid pace. So many of them ended up in some form of denial, only to meet the surety of Fahir’s words and confidence over the bond together and be overturned.

“No.”

The pressure of the claw under her chin released, coming forward to join the other in gently tracing down the side of Amara’s neck.

“No objections? No buts or ifs, hatchling?”

“No, Fahir. Thank you.”

Finally, then, did the veil of seriousness fall away. Warmth and adoration flooded the bond, and Amara was pressed tightly into Fahir’s chest, where her long neck met her shoulders.

“Perfect,” the dragon hummed, “Thank you for indulging me, little thing, and you are welcome.”

Amara smiled even as she buried her face into the dragons scutes, closing her eyes. However, it wasn’t long before that smile wavered.

“I’m sorry you had to do this with me again, Fahir, I just- well, you know how I feel better than I do a lot of the time,”

Amara melted underneath the gentle nuzzling from above, the dragon letting out a content rumbling noise.

“Do not apologize, little thing. Your doubts are deep-rooted. Though I may need to remind you on occasion, each time they become a bit looser I’d think.”

Amara simply grunted in response, allowing herself to relax into the dragons chest as Fahir gently laid them both on their side once again. The beast was warm, and comfortingly so. Her size meant it came nearly from all directions, quickly allowing one to relax into the tight embrace.

After a few moments – or a few minutes, she always found it hard to tell in times like this – Amara stirred.

“I think I’m going to leave, Fahir, but thank you for your help.”

Wordlessly, the dragon unravelled from around her rider, allowing her to stand up and brush herself off.

“This was an immense help to me, I- yes. Thank you.”

Amara felt stiff, giving an uncomfortable bow before turning to leave the room.

Her companion was oddly silent, simply watching her as she somewhat awkwardly shuffled over to the exit, lost in her own swirling thoughts.

It wasn’t until she felt the tugging sensation around her ankle, when she was just at the archway, that she realized that Fahir had not actually fully let go of her.

The dragon yawned theatrically, tapping the end of her snout with a claw.

“No, I think not, little thing.”

The grip around her ankle tightened.

“Pardon?” Amara whispered hoarsely.

Deviously slowly, the dragons tail began advancing up her body.

“I don’t think I’m going to let you leave, Amara. Not until you actually want to, that is. Did I ever tell you that you were being a disturbance to me?”

“No but- ah—"

Before she could finish her rebuttal, she was yanked off her feet and back towards the dragon.

“Hush, hatchling. You want to stay, yes? Be honest.”

Amara averted her eyes, nodding.

“Alright,” Fahir purred, “Then you are staying.”

She let out a noise of protest, but was quickly silenced as Fahir began drawing her claws over her scalp.

“What have I said about your desires, treasure?”

“That dragons claw at what they want with all their might, and don’t deny themselves,” Amara mumbled as she was reduced to putty beneath the dragons attention.

“Indeed. I think I’ll soon have it ingrained into you well enough, and you’ll be happier for it.”

Fahir hummed with satisfaction as Amara so easily yielded under her touch. Soon enough, however, the dragon yawned in earnest.

“Mm, may I try something with you, Amara?”

She blinked away the haze she’d been under, looking up at her companion.

“What is it?”

A claw traced its way along her jaw as Fahir let out a contemplative growl.

“The bond helps comfort you when you’re feeling particularly disconnected from yourself, yes? I could feel you sink into it when you first arrived.”

Amara nodded, if not hesitantly then embarrassedly.

“Then I would like to try something. Please, relax.”

Then, almost as there was a mental hand grasping hers, Amara felt herself being pulled. Gently and ever so slowly, she was led across the mental link she shared with her dragon, and the edges of her being became fuzzy and indistinct.

She came to the threshold that had already been her comfort prior, the extent to which she was able to sink into Fahir’s side of the bond. Once again, the phantom sensations of wings, of scales, of claws, all began to form. Ghostly and indistinct, but very much present.

The pulling almost seemed to stall at that point, as if allowing her to acclimate – or, rather, to receive contrast for what occurred next. The pulling became a tug, and suddenly she tumbled, and the phantom sensations became so very real.

Amara gasped with Fahir’s lungs, feeling them expand as she breathed in so much more than she was ever used to. Her wings shifted, stretching to the edges of the room she was in. Her wings, her lungs—

Her eyes were sharp in the darkness, what had previously been gloomy and indistinct becoming sharp and bright. The moon played against her golden hide, glinting off each individual scale.

She could feel a draft play over her scales, and shivered despite the warmth emanating constantly from her core. It was so completely alien compared to how it felt against skin.

And then there was the little thing in her arms, sleeping so soundly. The little dragoness, as seen through Fahir’s eyes, curled and wrapped up in her tail. Little treasure. Amara wanted to cry.

She had never felt comfort like this, had never felt right like this.

Fahir’s voice spoke gently in her mind.

“Is this comfortable, little one?”

Amara nodded, only realizing as she did it that she was still being given the reign over Fahir’s body. The chuckle came mentally, and yet was familiar nonetheless.

“I am so, so very happy, little treasure. Now, let us rest.”

Slowly, Amara could feel herself being brought out from being in control, and with it came the reminder of her fatigue. She had not slept at all that night, and it had already been late when she’d come to Fahir’s room in the stables. Rest… Rest sounded good.

Mentally, Amara allowed herself to nestle against Fahir within their bond, a mirror of them in physicality. In this in-between space, she could both feel the dragons chest rising and falling behind her back, while also feeling the sensation of that breathing as if it were her own.

She drank in the hybrid sensations greedily and deeply, allowing herself to truly relax for perhaps the first time in her memory.

Amara slept, and Fahir curled up protectively around her.

#my art :)#(?)#sfgjkfkghj #im still utterly fried after making this im probably going to regret posting it unedited but heeeeyo who cares this is silly stuff #enjoy this dragon therian affirmation slop (my favorite kind of slop)

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asongofstarkandtargaryen · 1 year ago

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Parenthood + ACOK, JON VI

While I was re reading this chapter I noticed that there are a lot of mentions of mothers, fathers, parents and parentage. So, I decided to make a post and analyse those passages and what they tell us about Jon and his own questionable parentage (questionable within the story, I always treat R+L=J as canon).

The wind cut like a knife up here, and shrilled in the night like a mother mourning her slain children.

That's a very devastating imagery. When I read about a mourning mother in asoiaf my mind always return to Catelyn (the first mourning mother we encounter in the text). On the previous chapter, Theon decided to burn the miller boys and present them as the youngest Starks. Which means that sometime soon after, Catelyn Stark will mourn her - as far as she knows- slain children.

"The mountain is your mother" Stonesnake had told him during an easier climb a few days ago. "Cling to her, press your face up against her teats, and she won't drop you". Jon had made a joke of it, saying how he'd always wondered who his mother was, but never thought he would find her in the Frostfangs.

Jon used to be so sensitive on the topic of his mother. AGOT Jon would never make a joke on this subject. He has come a long way, to be able to casually joke about it.

"Were they your kin?" he asked her quietly. "The two we killed?"

"No more than you are".

"Me?" he frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You said you were the Bastard O Winterfell".

"I am".

"Who was your mother?"

"Some woman. Most of them are". Someone had said that to him once. He didn't remember who.

It was Tyrion the person who told him so, on Jon's very first chapter. He also told him to wear like an armor who he is ( aka a bastard) so the world can't harm him. At first, Jon couldn't always follow his friend's advice but after his personal growth and development we see him finally following that advice on ACOK.

The most important information we get on this chapter is the retelling of Bael the Bard. That man was once King-Beyond-The-Wall and he travelled to Winterfell where he pretended to be a bard. After performing for the Lord of Winterfell, the Lord asked him what he wanted as a reward. The bard asked for the rarest flower and next day the Lord's daughter was gone and in her place was left a single blue flower.

This story has several parallels within the asoiaf universe and all are linked to Jon (after all, we learn this tale on his own pov). The most obvious one is that of Jon's parents: Rhaegar Targaryen "stole" Lyanna Stark. And the blue flower they left behind is Jon himself. It's not the only time Jon will be linked to a blue flower as he's probably the blue flower on the Wall on Daenerys' vision in the House of The Undying.

However, Bael the Bard is also very similar to Mance Rayder. Both are Kings -beyond-The-Wall and both went in an undercover mission to Winterfell. Mance was acting under Jon Snow's orders. However, he didn't stole the Lord's daughter but Lord Ramsay's wife and captive instead (Jeyne Poole and Theon Greyjoy).

Finally, the chapter closes with Jon hesitating to kill Ygritte and eventually deciding not to do it. Before he makes up his mind, he tries to draw strength from being Ned Stark's son. The way the author decided to word it, says a lot:

He was his father's son. Wasn't he? Wasn't he?

#jon snow #acok #valyrianscrolls #a post of ice and fire #asoiaf meta #Jon snow meta #jon snow acok vi

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the-maddened-hatter · 10 months ago

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So I've been working on thinking up some of Ozby's medicinal wares and this is what I've come up with so far!

It's a little long so it's under the read more:

A reptile specific dermal treatment called Unguentum Draconis- A small metal tin of thick, pale, nearly gelatinous ointment that when rubbed into the scales of a shedding reptilian sinner demon or hellborne, it moistens & loosens the scales, allowing them to be more easily removed, plus lessens the itching & relaxes sore muscles.

A gastric remedy called Wally-Cobble Jelly, which is a (tightly sealed) mason jar of a dark magenta paste. The paste smells foul, and there are small white flecks interspersed throughout the mixture. It has a gritty, salty sweet taste. It is made from a particular breed of berries blended with the grubs nest within them. It eases stomach cramps & relaxes the GI tract. (1 spoonful every 4 hours. Dosage times may vary for those with multiple stomachs)

A respiratory care set called Green Gills that consists of a a small metal tin of seafoam green paste and a small spritzer bottle of glittery blue liquid that helps to relieve congestion and Dry-Lung in Hellborn and Sinner Demon aquatics. The paste is rubbed over the gills to improve moisture absorption then the area is sprayed with the medicated liquid to promote easier breathing, clear out mucus, and reduce pain from lung straining

A white and blue metal arisol canister of medication infused condensed air called TechnoPuff that Aides in clearing physical blockages from Techno Sinner Demon's respiratory ports, which if left untreated can cause labored breathing, lethargy, and overheating

Coolant 631 Paxs (a pun on gel) that are Small clear plastic packets filled with a vivid blue gel. They are somewhat cool to the touch and are reactive to the techno sinner demons unique physiology, these Paxs are able to provide non-moistening relief for overheating & injuries to their synthetic biology.

A jar of a thick tar-like substance and a heavy-duty applicator (comes in multiple colors) called HoofGoop that Seals cracks in damaged hooves and provides an extra degree of protection to the appendage. Only apply with the applicator, as contact with non-hoof body parts will cause it to dry in a hard shell that will be damaging and painful to remove

A plastic squeeze bottle full of transparent liquid called Screen Stick, which is a A Techno Sinner demon specific wound care medication, specifically a numbing agent that helps the bio glass re-knit when broken

A spool of silvery glistening thread called Silken Weave that's made from a substance that dulls nerves allowing for pain relief during wound stitching. Some people opt to use it recreationally, often via unfortunate methodology.

Recreational substances:

Blinding Lights, a small vial of iridescent sparkling liquid corked with an eyedropper. It Acts as a relaxing psychoactive substance for insectoid Sinner Demons, typically producing visions of warm comforting light or swirling rainbow vortexes.

Coral Reefer, a pink plastic shell shaped case of small pink and orange swirled chunks of dried coral. They Pproduce a state of sleepy relaxation (and unfortunately later on a feeding frenzy) in Aquatic Hellborns and Sinner demons when crushed between the teeth. Sometimes causes pink bubbles to flow from the gills.

PissPot, tiny yellow metal tins that are shaped like teapots, filled with a lumpy blue sludge. They contain stimulants that have been heavily cut and smell strongly of amonia. Some people just can't handle the good stuff. Gotta give the people what they want.

Seeing Red, a small white metal tin of chunky dark red powder. It is a stimulant powder mixed with dried blood that when snorted produces a state of intense energy and violence in most carnivore formed Sinner Demons, Hellhounds, and some Aquatic Hellborns.

Verdant Wonderland, stored in a bottle made from LSD in crystal form, filled with vivid green Absinthe. Small swirls of crushed LSD crystals are visible in the bottle. It induces bizarre hallucinations and a deeply relaxed state. Allows the user to fall into a deep sleep and have strange vivid dreams.

Ye Olden Coffencolde Morphine Drops, Small red lozenges that are wrapped in little paper wrappers that sport a Victorian font. Induces a relaxed, sleepy, pain-free state. Some people from older times do genuinely purchase them for coughs and colds, though they aren't that effective.

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin original character #helluva boss oc #cw drugs #medicine #healer character

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healbellls · 1 year ago

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// As I'm writing this, I have no plans to bring back my Lance. BUT considering, how Matsuba was tied to another one of my "ancient" verse's takes. I'll be bringing that one back, as an NPC.

As an NPC, Matsuba may bring up this character or he may be present as a BG character. I'm not really looking to write as him per se, but he is still relevant for Matsuba's story.

Everything is tied to my old Lance take, nothing will ever be applied to anyone else who rps him.

Xiǎo Dù (Xiao as I will be writing to make things easier) was the time period’s headmaster of the Wataru clan. A clan of noble-blood heritage, however at this time they are a far cry of what they would eventually become down the road. Xiao should be considered as a pretty ancient ancestor, this takes place pretty early on the clan’s history.

During this time in history they have been expelled from their lands, and have also been handed out a lifetime sentence of exile. Because their previous headmaster (Xiao's father) refused to align with the current emperor (they weren’t a strong clan, they wouldn’t stand a chance on their own. A decision made by his father, which they would greatly pay the price for. Xiao still was just a child when their downfall happened). Another contributor factor was due of their close bonds to dragons (which were always deemed the biggest threats to society).

Xiao’s goal in life was to try and lift the sentence and recover the clan’s honor. By becoming a terrific pokemon hunter, who could effortlessly tame dragon types. Xiao was always on the run, travelling the land in search of new targets, which could potentially grant him the chance to lift the exile sentence. He greatly resents his father, and even his special abilities to a degree.

He was the oldest sibling of other two, who just like him roamed the land (although they didn't stick to their hunting traditions). They often stumbled into each other on their travels, but they didn’t really stick around each other much. Out of all the siblings he was the only one, who was actively trying to seek out a way to change things for them.

Despite his exile condition, he is quite rich. His services pay him extremely well. Not to mention, the large amount he managed to keep to himself from their clan’s fortunes. So much so, Xiao would constantly pay for Matsuba's services and make him tag alongside his hunts. Xiao is first and foremost a client, it is hard to tell whether or not he and Matsuba have any form of a genuine friendship. But some form of a connection between them, is established.

For PLA Muses: Xiao is likely the reason why Matsuba was brought to Hisui. Matsuba may bring him up.

Xiao was likely the last person to see Matsuba alive. Much like everyone, he wasn't aware about the clairvoyant's vision of his own death. But he would come to learn about that as well as his death, much later after his assassination. Their final encounter, could be summed up as Matsuba telling him about the vision of his clan's future, and he planted seeds in his mind about the changes he would come to implement down the line.

In the end, his efforts paid off. Xiao went down in history as the one who brought the honor back to the Wataru clan, re-instating its former glory. He was also responsible for making the biggest change to the clan's essence, by changing their focus on hunting/taming pokemon, and introduce a more banking like approach to their future endeavours. Which kicked off the clan’s influence growth in the process.

Xiao's personal diaries are currently one of the few remaining, concrete evidences about Matsuba's existence. Although, only a few things from it have ever been released to the public, and to many people they are only stories and not factual retellings of events. In his diary, he actually seems to be thankful for Matsuba's assistence in life.

It's also largerly theorized that Xiao and Matsuba's relationship, went far and beyond just the scope of a merely business relationship. Even though, Xiao never explicitly wrote anything about it per se.

#▸ matsuba : headcanon ◂#ooc /

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sagemoderocklee · 2 years ago

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⭐star⭐ for any Absolution section you'd like to tell us more about!

another hard one, though not as difficult as the ballad since it's farther in... but god what can i say?

oh i know what i can talk about that has NOTHING to do with anything truly pertinent to the plot of absolution! (hoping i haven't talked about this before but i don't think i have? well either way under the cut cause this got longer than i planned lol)

so in the second chapter, the scene from the last day of the festival where one of Shikamaru's clan members arrives in the chaitya and committing a major taboo by wearing his hitai-ate/bringing weapons inside, was actually related to Ruri's birth and the more mystical impacts of it on the Nara clan and the pact with the shadows i introduced in TAoL

i think for anyone who consistently reads my writing, it's well established that my worldbuilding is universal to all my canon-set fics, but like with everything else you don't actually need to have read TAoL or 13S to understand what's going on. this is all just my own worldbuilding and i keep it the same (for the most post) because it makes it easier to actually build a consistent vision.

i still have a lot of work to do re: the Shadow Kami and the pact the Nara clan made with them ages ago, but i have a solid enough idea and have done enough with it that it does make appearances in other fics--so far it's been featured in Absolution without actually being featured, and again in RtS (that scene in Ch9 when Lee was doing his laps)

with absolution, it's appearance (or implication is maybe more accurate) is like i said related to Ruri's birth. not long after she was born, one of the greater shadow kami--the one the Nara had made their pact with--appeared in the forest. it took a while for anyone to realize that's what it was--especially because people don't go that far into the forest (the same area Lee was on the shores of during RtS) because that's where the Nara clan's oldest, most forbidden shrine resides--a place only the head of the clan could possibly risk entering, but it's been so long since the Nara were connected to that primordial practice that even the head of the clan hasn't actually been back there since the warring states period--and with Shikamaru, the current head of the clan, being out of the country... well this god appears and there's no clan head to deal with it

so once they realize what's going on in the forest, Yoshino, Shikamaru's mother, who acts as the head of the clan when he's in Suna, sends someone to Suna to bring Shikamaru home for this at once.

once Toku--the clan member who'd been sent to retrieve Shikamaru--gets there, he explains to Shikamaru and Temari (being married into the clan she's allowed to know what's going on), Shikamaru realizes he has to get to Konoha to deal with this but doesn't realize what's going on until he actually gets there and goes into the forest.

in all my worldbuilding, i've heavily implied that Suna/Wind have a very strong connection to the gods in the desert, and there's some things with Gaara's family (spoilers for other things) that make Ruri connected to various greater powers so to speak. her birth is a sign of change for the shadow kami the Nara clan made their pact with. she's a child of shadow and more, and creates a bridge between worlds.

as a Nara she's bound to the shadows, but it's more complicated because of her mother. but it's good. and Shikamaru has to like go into the forest and commune with this greater kami to learn that her birth has essentially stirred the gods and that this particular kami has expectations and wishes to meet ruri once she's older, and basically shikamaru has to like prepare her for that (and tell Temari all this, which also means he's telling her shit about her own family she didn't even know)

but again, this is all very background and unimportant stuff for Absolution's present because none of that will happen for a good while

#ask game answers

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assortedbirds · 10 months ago

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14/01/24: Log 3- Static Pulse

Coming at you....way too late at night! I should be asleep! However, I was deeply focusing on some much-needed Static Pulse work and I want to share it before I go to bed (no matter how heavy my eyes are right now).

So today I decided to tackle the behemoth, the thing about this story that I have been trying to figure out for years but could never make any progress with, the big question...."what the fuck does Wren's house look like?".

Now, in terms of aesthetics and functionality this was very easy to answer. Dalia was an obscenely rich woman and her decor perfectly reflects that uber-wealthy minimalist "how does anyone even live here it doesn't feel homey at all" aesthetic. Additionally, I have an extensive idea of how many rooms the house has and what they are for. For example, I can tell you that it is a one story home with high ceilings, it used to have two guest bedrooms only for one of them to later be converted into a medical office, or that it has a very extensive library room. However, there has always been one pretty big issue preventing me from drawing up a floor plan....I am really not an architect. As much as it is normal to not be great at an artistic field that is not your own, I cannot emphasise enough that I really suck ass at this. Complete and utter ass. Every sketch I had made over the past 7 years, regardless of whether or not I used reference material, was a disproportionate mess that felt impossible to sustain life (I would share an example here, but it is far too late for me to go diving through old sketchbooks, please just take my word on this)

Now, I could probably very easily search up "1 story, 4 bedroom, free to use mansion plans" and just use that as the structure, but with that comes an additional problem. I may not be an architect but if there is one thing that I AM....it is picky, and once I have a vision I will not rest until I feel that it is fulfilled. Those pre existing blueprints were not cutting it, the vibes were all wrong for what I wanted the house to be. Though they provided a good reference, there was no other option for me than to kick myself back into drawing a floor plan from scratch. So this morning I sat down, put up some references and got to work.

My original plan was to see if I could make the process easier by using a floor plan software (which I will discuss later ✨) but this proved to be even more intimidating somehow, so Procreate it was. I realised quite quickly that it is not something that comes naturally for me to translate my ideas for scenes and backdrops into a map-able space, so my brain oscillated between feeling like either overheating PC fans or like it was on fire for most of the process. However, I persisted, and after a few hours I had a wildly disproportional but workable plan for the house!

Once this was finished, I was able to import it to use as a base and began building the floor plan in Homestyler! I feel very lucky, as I only remembered this site's existence due to perusing 8 year old posts on my "art reference" tag (Tumblr's tagging system coming in clutch once again ✊) and, though finicky to use at times, it is proving to be extremely useful! As I went along adding the walls and rooms, the process morphed from being painful to actually being pretty fun! Adding furniture (and eventually re-proportioning the rooms as a lot of them are too-large) will be a long and arduous process, but I am quite happy with what I have achieved so far!

I will share the full map and some more images once I have finalised the design, but I would like to end off by sharing a render of one of the more furnished areas: the library. Anyone who has seen me draw Wren has probably seen art of him sitting in a chair and looking out the window, so may I present to you...Wren's Sulking Corner:

You can also see Dalia's room looming in the background....that kinda works thematically....

Isn't the rendering cool?! Fun fact: those shelves were empty and I had to add in the books myself. It was pretty fun but very time consuming and I have roughly 8 more shelves to fill so....pray for me.

That's it for today's log! If you have read this far....thank you I love you mwah mwah!

-Billie

#assorted bird noises #static pulse log

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gale-heart · 1 year ago

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Charlotte left a note asking to talk, so we grabbed wine, smokes, and chocolate, and made time to dress our re-opened wounds in the privacy of the crow’s nest. I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the first time she’s gotten to just sit down and unpack all of the grief and pressure she’s been carrying around since her parents’ death. I’m nowhere near being a professional counselor, but I do hope venting to me helped; she did seem a little lighter on her feet when we were done.

We sort of rambled into easier subjects once we’d both talked about our visions. Talk strayed from loss, to food, to marriage—my own short-lived disaster, her reasons for abstaining against her family’s wishes, and conditions under which we might actually consider it (the implication was that we were talking about hypothetical other people in the vague future, but there were a few points where I had to bite my tongue to not jokingly say “I do.”) We’d both rather wait to marry for love rather than title or breeding, and both would rather it be a small, comfortable thing with a few close guests. Unless we end up dueling our hypothetical spouses in a ballroom, of course—I’d mostly been joking about it being a fun way to close a ceremony, but her good eye damn near lit up as she latched onto it. (Charlotte taps her feet on the ground when she’s excited!) It looks like we’ll be making time for her to teach me fencing, though it remains to be seen if I end up sweeping her away like one of the intrepid heroines in her adventure novels.

We also ended up diving together into that other novel I snatched up at the Gilded Caldera, much to my immense delight. I find myself growing surprisingly fond of it; it’s clear Tolriastrasz saw plenty of the world’s evils, and its joys, enough to really appreciate how important it is that we still try in spite of it all. I would have loved the chance to pick his brain, and I strongly suspect he may radicalize me a little by the time I’ve finished. Even putting aside the philosophical angles, I just dearly love these four ridiculous, earnest whelplings and how hard they’re trying despite being very clearly out of their element. Soft as butter they may be, yet hard as tree roots they can be in need, indeed.

Kerrius arrived earlier today. He hasn’t tried to make friends, but thankfully he hasn’t treated anyone with outright hostility so far either. Even worked alongside Roy and Neil and a few of our Horde crew members without incident! (Kavard being the non-Horde exception—maybe? I’m really not sure what the fuck Kavard is, other than a sentient, person-shaped blob of darkness with sharp teeth and a fondness for big hats.) This is better than I’d hoped for! Maybe we can introduce him to some of our Alliance folk next and get him to loosen his tongue a bit. Or, hell, I’ll even settle for getting him out of his cabin, if he’s not seasick.

#character logs #ic

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cryptidmomochi · 1 year ago

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heyyy

so as most of yall know discord’s tryna ditch the discriminator (the four numbers at the end of ur username). some of yall might not have paid much attention, but in discord’s post about WHY this change is made, they lied. like. a lot.

anyway here’s a thread about that with a lot of good points. this isn’t new, i know, but there’s a lot goin on here; someone who worked for discord said that the change is being made because some higher up types thought it made no sense that people can change their usernames and discrims on a whim. some are theorising that this is to make it easier to datamine and sell information. basically, discord might try to be like every other money-grubbing piece of shit app out there, and maybe that’s not a big deal to some of you (because so many companies are doing it now), but it really should be. this kind of thing should not be normalised.

ALSO. from what i understand from these posts, the new username system will remove your ability to ever change your username ever again. this means that a lot of usernames will be permanently taken, and, according to the link above regarding how higher ups “had a vision” they wanted to see through, the way “username reservations” are being handled isn’t that good either. if you don’t get the user you want when you’re picking your name, you may be forced to take someone else’s user. either that, or you’ll have to put your discriminator back in - you know, that thing discord said this is about in the first place? the thing they said was the reason this change was being made?

also, to be clear, the source discord cites to prove nobody knows what a discriminator is, is a reddit thread where someone asks what they;re called and almost everyone explains what a discriminator is alongside its function. there was no survey, they have no real statistics to back this up, they just said shit and put a link to make you think it was legitimate.

In the meantime, I’ve been poking around for alternatives. So far I’ve found “Revolt”, which seems to capture discord with betterdiscord enabled really well so far, and its opensource, although it’s very small and there’s not many communities to join. i figure if it got bigger that would change.

anyway. special thanks and credit and props to those in the discord forum thread that found all this information deadass i appreciate all of them for putting into words every reason why this is a bad change that nobody should support.

#it does kinda such bc a display name could be good in concept #bc a lot of servers dont let u set a nickname #but people tend to call me 'cryptid' when i cant set my nickname #and i don't want to be called cryptid #im momo #im mochi #im momo and mochi #but i like cryptid_momochi as my user #so i don't want to just change it to momochi #yknow #but the rest of this is just a greed-fuelled mess #and im so sick and tired of capitalism and corporations ruining everything #it does not have to be like this #it literally doesn't #important

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cecphotos · 2 years ago

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Seascapes and Wildflowers in San Francisco

Join Chris Crosby and Bruce Getty, for a sunset workshop in San Francisco! Learn how capture the best results in difficult lighting conditions at sunset through proper exposure, solid compositions, long exposure, exposure blending, use of filters and more. See more below

There are two sessions available. Choose one or take both!

April 15th at Marshall’s Beach (Seascape)

April 16th at Golden Gate Bridge (Wildflowers)

Overview

During this workshop, Bruce Getty and Chris Crosby will guide you to some of the most interesting areas surrounding the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, some well known and some hidden gems. Beautiful wave action, blooming wildflowers and the Golden Gate Bridge are just a few of the incredible opportunities for translating emotion and vision through our photographic medium. We are dedicated to providing the best instruction on all aspects of the art of landscape photography. Whether you are just beginning or are a seasoned pro, we are ready to help you move forward with your photography.

Curriculum

Curriculum will be catered to each individual’s skill level and may vary from student to student. Below you’ll find some common topics based upon different skill levels.

BEGINNER-INTERMEDIATE

Fundamentals are essential in the development of any skill, photography is no different. Below you’ll find some sample topics to help you develop yours:

Shooting in Manual Mode

Understand The Exposure Triangle and how each affects the image (aperture, ISO, shutter speed)

How to Meter and Expose for best results

Using light for better captures

Compositions made simple and easy

Understanding and using camera settings and menu options

ND’s, Polarizer and Grads - Which to use and when to use it

Tips and Tricks for easier workflows and shooting experience in the field

INTERMEDIATE - ADVANCED

Those who have a greater understanding of their cameras will get some more advanced shooting techniques to focus on light, location and making good decisions to make the most of the variables. Some advanced topics are listed below:

Exposure bracketing and blending

Focus stacking for depth of field and sharpness

Creative blending to bring the vision to life

Composing for interest, depth and focus

Physical Requirements

Since this is an infield workshop, some walking will be involved. Most locations are not far from parking areas, however, students need to be ready to be able to walk/hike to get to shooting area and good compositions.

Things To Bring

Equipment:

DSLR / Mirrorless camera and lenses

Wide Angle Lens – 12-24mm

Mid to Long Range Zoom – 24-70, 70-200, 100-400

A sturdy Tripod for wave and wind stability

Filters - Neutral Density Filters and CPL

Remote / cable camera shutter

Several memory cards

Spare camera batteries

Head torch (for any night or low light walking and shooting)

Rain cover for camera and camera bag can come in handy in some rare cases of water splash, rain or high wind!

Small Camping Chair or Stool for comfort if standing for long periods is an issue

Clothing Items:

Many layers – As the afternoons wear on it can get quite chilly and a jacket is recommended

Comfortable walking shoes or Hiking Shoes/Boots are recommended for wildflowers

Water Shoes are recommended for seascape session. Be prepared to get your feet wet to get the shot.

Food:

Food, Water, and all other essentials. No Food or water will be provided before, during or after the workshop. Plan ahead and have water and snack on hand to keep your energy up.

Payment, Fees and Terms

COST: The cost of the workshop is $200 for each session and must be paid in full to reserve your spot in the workshop

PAYMENT: Payment(s) can be made using the Add To Cart button of this web page using a credit card via PayPal and Stripe. If you would like to pay by another method, please reach out to Chris.

CANCELLATIONS: Cancellations require us to re-open enrollment and/or to engage in additional promotional efforts to fill the workshop on a short notice, therefore, our policy is that there will be no refunds of the payment within 30 days of the workshop date. All refunds are subject to a 6% processing fee. We highly recommend that you obtain travel/cancellation insurance for all workshops to protect yourself against unusual circumstances.

SUMMARY

Your satisfaction, enjoyment and educational experience is important to us. The goal of this workshop is to allow you to further understand your camera, composition and artistic expression while using the amazing landscapes around the Golden Gate Bridge. We want to ensure that everyone comes away with great instruction as well as a great experience in nature. Most importantly, we are going to have fun! Having fun is a critical part of any good photography adventure. When you have fun, your mind is free to expand and learn!

Transportation

No Transportation will be provided to, from or during the workshop. All attendees are responsible for arranging their own transportation to and from as well as any parking fees that might be required.

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lightningdreameralt · 2 years ago

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Hirohiko Araki, artist introspective for my topic.

From the land of japan, Hirohiko Araki is a manga artist, one of the most influential to ever grace the earth, with his main work, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, soon entering it’s 9th part as of the writing of this, being seen remembered and re-visioned in other popular manga and even in western media due to its eccentricities and glamour. Araki’s work has also found itself the guest of art shows and even has periodically been viewed in the louvre, one of the most well known artistic museums in the world, holding such iconic pieces as the Mona Lisa.

Being one of the most influence Japanese artists and storytellers, over his artistic tenure starting in publication in 1983, with his far less recognised Cool Shock B.T being released, followed by Baoh in 1984, this series looking far more reminiscent in what JoJo would later become known as, with its unorthodox proportions and spine shattering poses. and, finally, in 1987, the weekly publication of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure in Shonen jump would grace the world, starting the popularity of Hiohiko Araki’s works, not that his previous works lacked polish, rather, they just didn't have the staying power that JoJo has obtained in its 35 year life.

https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=2ahUKEwi9267N5q38AhVOhlwKHZdDBDUQtwJ6BAgLEAI&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DR6ETYobDuc8&usg=AOvVaw0A3_9SOJzog_ZWVgLb9K8V

In this video, taken during the creation of JoJolion, the 8th part of JoJo, Araki creates a mural depicting many of the main characters and all of the JoJo’s depicting Jonathan, Joseph, Jotaro, Jolene, Johnny and so on. As we can see, he actually takes a lot of inspiration from carvings of people, what lines up with how is personal works made outside of the manga are very reminiscent of renaissance sculptures, and by inferring from said statues, hes able to impersonate the feeling that are radiated from these marvels.

Also seen, not only with Araki, but many maga artists, his work is done classically, with ink and paper, but not only that, with him having his own well to siphon from. This gives his work that natural look that most physical works inhibit, but the pen also allows for the thickness of the line work to change quickly and smoothly over a gradient allowing him easier control over his works looks. he also uses normal pens with unique tips at other points and also does the colouring himself using water colours to give a pastel look which is lightly applied, leaving it mute and not too vibrant. This is contrasted as he airbrushes the piece to give it a vibrant neon green background, using a protective film over his work to stop it from, getting dissolved. While this comes out beautifully, it doesn't change much about the actual work except making it stand out better.

I could try and take aspects from this piece, such as using a pressure based pen tip in Photoshop which is reminiscent of his and other manga artist pens, but recently I discovered that the computers cannot read the drawing pads, resulting in negative responses which are critically wounding the work I produce so I have been restrained to a mouse for my works what only knows yes and no, so cannot be used in this endeavour but could probably be used later. I would also like to try the watercolour aspect of the art to give my matte and flat work more life, but the digital brushes that I use seem unfit for the job, perhaps I should look for other digital replacements online, none that cost money, because free ones should do just as well, at least for my unpicky self.

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egittae · 5 months ago

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It seemed that his improved mobility due to having a mount to count on, in the end, didn’t matter. What good did it make for him to be able to race back and forth through the battlefield, enabling him a near full coverage of range, when by the corner of his eye he witnesses one of the illusions- a noble young man, plunging his blade repeatedly on Flora’s self and leaving her motionless on the ground? What good did it make that he could do all of that, but somehow he hadn’t been fast enough to at least whisk her away with his horse before the fatal blow landed?

“Flora!"

This was all fake. It’s an illusion, it’s a simulation- Flora was going to be okay, her injuries would be gone and she’d wake up soon.

"Flora is gone and you are next, you bastard!"

But hell, illusion or not it looked far too real, and by this point considering everything they had gone through it felt fair for Lambert to hold this reality at a level of doubt. The burn of magic he felt before felt real, the poison also did. Even if he was healed soon after, if he concentrated enough he could make out the phantom breath of poison in his bones and the burns in his muscles. He couldn’t even imagine what Flora must have experienced- or what she must be experiencing now.

And before he could think any more on the matter, the tides of battle continued to blindside him, the waves unforgiving and far too fast for him and his horse to ever hope to catch on. Dimitri started acting strange, as if possessed by a beast, punching that illusion’s body long after it was already defeated- and now Lambert could only watch as he was nearly skewered by a pegasus battalion.

A blink, and the gleam of Edward’s weapon blinded his vision- but not enough, as the professor still managed to make direct eye contact with the imitation of Ewan as he was cleaved by his teammate’s ax.

False, false, all false. All made to cause hesitation and worry.

Lambert closed his eyes before directing his horse to rush towards Marth, not wanting to see Ewan’s body hitting the ground lifelessly. It was much easier- much more comfortable to wear the blinkers of vengeance than to allow his heart to grieve.

Lambert 8/10HP hits Hero-King 8/10HP with Flame Lance from range [Roll: 10 + 6 = 16; -0HP, Hero-King 8/10HP] Hero-King 8/10HP cannot counterattack! Lambert 8/10HP hits Hero-King 8/10HP with Flame Lance from range [Roll: 9 + 6 = 15; -0HP, Hero-King 8/10HP] Seal Resistance activates! Hero-King’s 8/10HP Resistance buffs are removed for one round. Hobble activates! Hero-King 8/10HP is inflicted with -4 speed for one turn. Trample! Hero-King 8/10HP is inflicted with -2HP. Hero-King 6/10HP.

Although Lambert was able to take advantage of the young lord’s armor weighing him down allowing him to nail two slashes, the result was minimal as blate met shield. At the very least the push of his horse seemed to cause the young lord to topple over, which made Lambert grit his teeth. Frustration, a pain that didn’t drown him- but rather it burned and prickled at his skin. “Get him while he is vulnerable! Do not allow him a chance to get back on his feet!” The professor looked back at his still living teammates, wincing in the split second where he spotted Flora’s body on the ground.

(Not her body, her self. She was okay. She was okay.)

Lethal Messenger 10/10HP crits Lambert 8/10HP with Silence Blast [Roll: 20, -4HP, Lambert 4/10HP]

His attempt to rally his companions was cut short however, when a deafening blast was heard and he was knocked to the ground before he even had the chance to identify what struck him in the first place. The fall knocked the air out of his lungs and it was by a miracle that the horse didn’t crush him in the process- both were injured in the end as Lambert did his best to get back on his feet and on the horse while gasping for air without choking.

Though it was after a moment that the professor figured, he coughed and coughed, his chest expanding to bring in more air, an act that would’ve certainly resulted in audible wheezing, but no sound came out.

“…!?”

Whatever it was with that shot, it took his breath as well as his voice.

“!!!”

Lambert 4/10HP hits and hits Lethal Messenger 10/10HP with Flame Lance [Rolls: 17 + 4 = 21, 2 + 4 = 6; Seal Resistance activates! Lethal Messenger 10/10HP‘s Resistance buffs are removed for one round. Trample! Lethal Messenger 10/10HP is inflicted with -2HP. Lethal Messenger 8/10HP. Seal Movement activates! Lambert 4/10HP is inflicted with Taunt.

It was an awful, helpless feeling to be muted like that- knowing that he was denied of even screaming for his life if he were to be in danger. Rage boiled within his chest- but it wasn’t the searing kind that urged his crest to motion. Clumsy, upset, childish rage that made his eyes sting more than his heart. Lambert refused to let himself shed angry tears over something like that, but the feeling was there and the professor stubbornly chose to ignore everything else and stubbornly focus on that illusion. Those empty eyes, those mechanical motions.

They took his voice when he already had nearly nothing of himself to even count on.

He wanted them dead.

GET RID OF HIM BOY @blaiddllodi

why are you me. im me | team 4

summer arena 2024, gold round

#why are you me im me team 4 #toaarena2024summer #[support] edward #[support] flora #[support] dimitri #[support] alcryst

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the-maddened-hatter · 10 months ago

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The goods in Ozby's Apothecary (so far)

So I've been working on thinking up some of his medicinal wares and this is what I've come up with so far!

It's a little long so it's under the read more:

Recreational substances under the cut:

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin oc #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin original character #helluva boss oc #if you have an oc that you think would visit his shop reblog and tell me about them! :D #fandom whump #ozby #hellaverse #sinner demon

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cafeinthemoon · 3 years ago

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Where'd You Go

Chapter: 1/1

Wordcount: 1900+

Fandom: Naruto

Pairing: Madara Uchiha X reader

Symbols: 1️⃣ . 🖤

Warning (s): implied past abuse, dark memories, depression, arranged marriage

N. A.: This story is actually a draft, a remnant of my fic The Leaves of Her Garden. It was a part that I first planned to include after the wedding night chapter, but I ended up leaving it out of the final text because my vision on their relationship and what I wanted for them changed as the story was written. But I kept this text in my drafts anyway and as I was cleaning my files I re-read it and decided to use it as something new. It's not my favorite thing ever, but I thought it would be a waste to just delete it, so here it is 🥰

If only you had a friend, a loyal partner or a parent to look after you, to question where have you been or where’d you go, you could care more about what would happen to you once you stepped inside the Uchiha territory. Would you be treated well there? Would you have enough food? Would you be turned into a slave, forced to work for their head, to answer all his desires and extravagances? Or would you be made one of them, a warrior, maybe an ally?

If you had something – someone – to die for, you could care. But living alone for long enough has hardened your heart to any apprehensions of this kind. Instead you cared for yourself: you wouldn’t want your fate to be any of those things you’ve heard of while being carried to that strange land – but neither you wanted to go back to the place you were. Whatever that manner in which you’ve passed your last years there, you could barely call it a life. Any changes that could reach you now, if not welcome, would be interesting to witness at least.

Now those days when you would spent time questioning what would be made of you were long gone. You have already met Madara Uchiha, he has decided what you would be to him and to his pairs and that you would not leave his side so soon – he chose to keep you as his wife – so that you no longer had to worry. You were alive, and that was all.

Of course none of this were told to him, not even in the moments before he turned you his. You chose to keep silence about many things, and he decided to not question you about them: they were in your past now, too far from you to make a difference. If he wanted, he would have already take out from you any truth you intended to hide; you knew that and thanked him for choosing the more gentle way.

Everything was fast and simple, or this is how you understood it. You arrived and were cared by silent servants, then brought to his presence and informed about his decision by himself. You didn’t mind saying yes or anything of this sort; just knowing you would live was enough to bring peace to your mind. You thanked him and left, and you didn’t meet each other again until the ceremony.

You two were left alone at that wing of the house, through which he led you to the room you would call yours from that moment on. There were not much talking or questions from your part or his; both the sliding doors – the one that separated the room from the corridor and the one that led to the porch – were closed; everything was silent around those walls, and you would probably keep things like this. He came closer to take off your robe and started caressing you. He was not rude, despite knowing little about you, your experience or the lack of it. That made things easier. You then let him let him touch you. As you had him turning you his woman, you hid your face on the crook of his neck and buried your nails on his back to cease the physical strangeness that existed between you two, but as it passed, you felt yourself at ease. When it was over, you held him tight until he decided to release you.

You took his side on the futon and closed your eyes, not worrying if you would manage to sleep that night or not. With the protection of a roof over your head, it didn’t make a difference to you.

Later, still at night, you sensed his arms around you, pulling you closer as he wrapped you with his leg. Was he sleeping? You weren’t sure, but now you couldn’t sleep even if you wanted, for his embrace was smothering you. For the first time since you arrived there, you started to cry.

- What is it?

You startled when you heard his voice so close to your ear. The question was made in a whisper, but the silence in the room made it sound like a scream. Besides, you were careful not to sob or make any noise: you only allowed yourself to release tears. It was when you suddenly remembered that shinobi were light sleepers.

Without an immediate reply from you, he insisted.

- What's wrong? Are you feeling sick? – you sensed his hand sliding down your inner thigh – Does it hurt?

You could answer all those questions with a yes, but discussing what you were feeling was not your main concern at that moment.

- It's nothing, Madara-sama… I’m just tired.

He replied with a kiss on your hair.

- Sleep. Or you might have dark circles by the morning.

***

A few days later

You were resting at the house's garden after taking care of some domestic tasks you were allowed to perform. You were left alone with a black cat that somehow decided to appear every day to visit you. The birds would not approach the ground because of the cat, but a squirrel, braver than them, came closer to grab a nut that has fallen from a tree near you. The cat tried to follow it, but the squirrel is faster: he hid the nut inside his tiny mouth and fled, disappearing among the leaves of the high branches. You laughed as the cat came back to your side, frustrated.

You caressed the animal and started talking to it.

- If you were a person, do you know what kind of questions I'd make to you?

The cat looked at you with a pair of sleepy, green eyes and rolled around itself on the grass, waiting for you to continue.

- I would make all the questions I cannot make to the people I know. How so?, you say. The ones I do not make to them, not because I would be punished or something, but because they wouldn't understand. I mean, they would understand the question, but not what I want to find out with it. There are too many people like this here, you see. Sometimes, when Madara-sama is not here, I feel lonely.

Silence. You looked at the sky for a moment.

- For example, look at the maids who work here. One day, two of them were helping me with my tasks and the first said 'Oh, did you sleep well last night, y/n-sama?'. It was the morning after the wedding night, and all I wanted was to be left alone. I had many things to think about. I knew what they wanted to hear, but I didn't know what to say, and didn't want to talk. The second joined her and started to make questions, and my only choice was to run away. It was when I discovered this place. At least here they don't come.

The cat, as well as the garden around you, remained quiet.

- I could invent some fantastic story to satisfy their curiosity, but you know, I don't like this kind of thing – you shrugged – But the worst thing is that, even if I told them the truth, they would not understand. For example, imagine if they asked 'What do you think of Madara-sama?' and I replied 'Oh, Madara-sama is different from any men I've met before', it would be true, but they would put my words in a completely different context. They would think I'm telling that I've dated many people before, but Madara-sama is the best, but this is not what I'd want to say. It's not just about dating people. But it seems that they only understand things like this. They just look at the things and the circumstances, but not at the people, you know? – you sighed – It's so frustrating!

The cat rolled again and purred.

- This is way I don't try to explain anything to them. Would it work to try and say something if people wouldn't understand you? I don't think so. So I keep my mouth shut – you folded your knees and embraced them with your arms – But sometimes, I can't help wanting someone to talk to...

The cat stared at you as if it was making you an obvious question. You widened your eyes.

- Oh, talking to Madara-sama?! – you whispered in response – No, don't you ever suggest that! I wouldn't be so daring. I am not here for long enough to say such things in front of him. And I'm afraid I will never know him enough for this. It seems that he has some feelings that no one else has, and that his thoughts are only his. We can never know what he's thinking, but he always knows what's in our minds. I wonder if there's someone in this world who knows who he really is, what he is, besides himself – you leaned on the grass and reached the bat’s back, scratching over its dark fur – Have you ever been close to him? Have you ever looked into his eyes? I have. It's impossible to explain what I've seen in them. I only remember what I felt. It's like staring at a cliff and seeing deep waters in it, but you must not stare for too long, for you don't know what will come out from there. With men like him, you have no choice but to be careful. Still...

You smiled with yourself.

- Still... Part of me is not as afraid as it should be. I mean, it's true that Madara-sama didn't marry me for love, and we're not living a romance like those ones of the stories, but I think that somehow our story is better. Maybe what they tell us in the books doesn't even exist. And it's true that even when he was gentle I felt pain in our wedding night, and it was hard to fall asleep, but could it be different? It happened so fast, and I wasn't entirely prepared, but I couldn't tell him everything I was thinking. And yes, sometimes he does and says scary things, and many times I don't understand what he's trying to say and I just don't know what to expect. It's true that there are many things against me in this point, but this is how I feel. I think I like him. I can't say I love him, but I like the things I can see in him.

You raised your eyes to the sunset sky, to the rosy clouds above you.

- Maybe 'like' is not the most appropriate word, but is the best one I could find. Because when people say they 'like' someone, they never let it clear if they like how this person makes them feel, or if they like what they can see in the person they talk about. I wonder if such thing has happened to other girls as well. When they say they like a man, what do they mean? Certainly not the same as me. Because they don't have someone like Madara-sama with them. But when I say I like him, I'm saying that I like the few things I can understand about him, and that I'm willing to understand more, so that I can like him even more. And maybe one day, I will be able to say that I love him.

You felt your eyes burning.

- Madara-sama doesn't know how, but he saved my life. Maybe one day I will tell him the whole story. With him, I don't have the life I expected, but a life that's better than the one I would have if I was somewhere else. Any pain I feel while staying here is nothing compared to the pain I've had to endure before.

#naruto fanfiction #madara #madara uchiha #madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader

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fuckit-hero-of-trains · 3 years ago

Text

Sit by the fire until... Chapter 2

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/81650737

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you when you get magically transformed into a bunny rabbit against your will by the corrupted darkness of the Sacred Realm: somethings, unfortunately, tend to stick.

Now, Legend isn’t saying that he’s hiding a cotton tail under his tunic or that his soul secretly aches to frolic in meadows or spend his time sleeping in holes or whatever else it is that rabbits do when they're not busy being very confused and scared twelve year old Hylians.

No.

But that doesn't mean he was left unscathed by having his entire anatomy re-written in less than an instant.

Because of course he wouldn’t. Goddess forbid he ever catch a break for once in his life.

He was still pretty young when it happened, so Legend can’t remember if his teeth had been quite so bucked before the incident. Regardless if they were or not, they sure as Hylia are prominent now. Then there's also the fact that he never really grew into his ears, the damn things always just a shade longer than they should be for a regular Hylian.

Before he joined this wild cucco chase masquerading as an adventure, Legend would sometimes catch himself looking at Ravio wondering, Is that how I would have looked? Besides the hair and eyes, the merchant was supposed to be his mirror image after all. Zelda and Hilda were, so it stood to reason that he and Ravio should be the same.

In which case, the bucktooth thing was going to be a problem regardless.

The ears, on the other hand, are a completely different story. From the quick glances Legend has managed to steal of Ravio’s side profile, the merchant has relatively short ears himself, which just make the Veteran’s own look comically long when the two stand side by side.

And ugh, and that wasn't even touching on his… less physical changes.

Namely, his cravings.

Noshing on some leafy greens while home alone doing some chores? A-Okay.

Getting caught by Warriors and Twilight absentmindedly chewing on the hay he was supposed to be feeding the horses? Ehhh, not so much.

Goddesses, his ego still hasn’t recovered from the amount of jokes the Pretty Boy had made at his expense. And that’s not even mentioning the veritable mountain of carrots he found in his bedroll, no doubt courtesy of that flea bitten farmhand.

Regardless of the less than natural way he got these… attributes, Legend couldn’t say they were all bad. ‘Cuz sure, his ears were a bit longer than average, but he could also hear better than most of his companions, able to catch the sound of crunching leaves above even their loud bickering. Like wise, his eyes were sharper than others in the low light of dawn and dusk, allowing him to see things others would miss.

Frankly, both skills had helped keep him alive during his quests. He was thankful for them in a weird huh, guess that works kinda way, but thankful all the same.

But sometimes Legend wanted to wring the goddesses necks because really? Being turned into a rabbit couldn’t have fixed this particular problem?

This particular problem being his absolutely horrible pollen allergies.

“ A-A-A!”

Each rapid, involuntary inhale feels like a simultaneous punch to the gut and a gasp for breath, the air yanked into his body and then stoppered up. It leaves the veteran in a state of limbo as a paralyzing calm falls over him; lungs full of air, shoulders hiked up, muscles tensed.

For a second, everything feels lodged in place, frozen, like the Champion had used his stasis rune on him.

And–

Legend clamps his mouth shut and tucks his face into his elbow just as tension snaps and–

“- acheew! ”

Nothing but a soft, cut off sneeze slips past his lips, yet, the force of holding it back still sends Legend bowing over. He stays there, hunched over for a breath as his body recovers, before he straightens back up, sniffing irritably as he tries to ignore the itch prickling at his eyes and the congested pressure throbbing behind his sinuses.

A chortling huff sounds next to him and when Legend glances down he can see Wolfie– or should he say, Twilight– peering up at him, mouth open and tongue lolling in a doggy grin, but icy blue eyes too pointed, too teasing, to be anything but human.

Legend's nose twitches tellingly as it begins to tickle again and the wolf gives another stuttering huff. A laugh. Legend can practically hear Twilight’s twangy, Awww. You sneeze like a bunny.

The bastard.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, dog boy,” Legend grumbles, wiping harshly at his face in an attempt to stave off another sneezing fit. “Don't you have trees to piss on or something?”

That earns him peeled back lips and a growl, but Legend just sends the other a responding sneer as strides past the grumpy wolf and out into the rolling field of tulips that stands in front of them.

Another huff, this one more annoyed than amused, sounds behind the veteran before the wolf streaks past him, loping through the flowers with his nose down and tail high.

Legend rolls his eyes.

Twilight loves to show his teeth, but the farmhand is quite literally all bark and no bite.

And besides, they both have better things to do than needle one another. If Legend is going to be miserable, he may as well take steps to make that misery as short as possible.

Afterall, they aren't out here swanning through a meadow of flowers for pleasure.

The last Dark Portal they had all walked through had, once again, separated them. Legend and Twilight were lucky enough to find one another quickly, though, now that Legend thinks about it, it probably had less to do with luck and more to do with Twilight’s nose.

After regrouping, they had tried to search for the others more that day, but a storm had them holed up in a cave overnight to wait out the deluge. They had gotten up early to start their search again today, but so far they had no such luck in finding any of the others in the forest.

Which just left the inexplicable meadow of tulips surrounding the wood.

Legend had been hoping that the rain would keep some of the pollen at bay, but nooo that would be too merciful, wouldn’t it?

If anything, the rain just made this whole experience more aggravating. Now, along with stinging eyes, a running nose, and a throbbing head, Legend also had the delightful honor of feeling the tulip stalks and leaves and petals sliding wetly across his skin, the annoying slap of his tunic smacking his thighs as it got more sodden by the second, and the disgusting squish of water between his toes with every step he took through this Wind Fish damned field.

And sure, maybe it was worth it to reunite with the other heroes, but really, would it kill the goddesses to make his life just a little bit easier.

A bark pulls Legend from his miserable musings. Twilight's dark tail stands out among the ocean of pastel pinks and yellows and oranges, wagging frantically twenty meters away. It disappears after a second, replaced by a muzzle and expectant eyes.

Twilight barks at him again.

He must have found something.

Finally, Legend thinks as he begins to make his way over toward the other, hopefully a reason to get out of this floral hell hole.

“What is it, boy?” Legend asks, voice going high and mocking as he takes delicate care stepping on as many flowers as possible, “Little Time-y fall down the well again?”

Instead of a growl for his effort, Legend gets a flurry of black flecks falling upward, like pieces of reverse snow, in his peripheral vision.

“You know,” Twilight says as he straightens to his full height, eyes half-lidded. Unamused, “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are.”

And before Legend can interrupt that– No, actually, you just have a dog shit sense of humor. Literally– Twilight continues, “I can smell the smithy all over this thing.” He nods down at a small tree stump breaking through the tide of flowers. “The scent is a bit old, probably from sometime before last evening, but still traceable. I should be able to find him from here.”

Legend eyes the stump for a moment, peering into the cracked hole in the top of the wood. Inside, he can see the round, red caps of several toadstools sprouting.

He can also sense magic. Close to that of the fairies– natural and glittering and smelling of moss– but not quite the same.

The Smithy’s doing?

Or a natural occurrence?

Regardless…

“Welp,” Legend says, straightening up, “Let's go find him. Couldn’t have gotten far on those little legs of his.”

“Again,” Twilight huffs, the black fractals already consuming him once more as he transforms, “You’re not as funny as you think...”

His voice distorts and fades into nothing as the magic swallows him whole, leaving Legend once again having a conversation with a very unimpressed looking wolf.

“I like you better when you can’t talk,” Legend tells Twilight as the other sets off, snuffling at the ground.

The other pauses to give Legend a look that would be more at home on a disapproving mother’s face, before continuing his tracking.

He also whaps Legend in the leg with his tail.

Hard.

The prick.

They continue on their trek together like that for a while, Twilight occasionally pausing to shove his nose into the dirt some more as he decides which direction to follow as Legend trails behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a quadripartite tunic and a head of straight, gold hair.

It isn't long before the farmhand turned canine breaks off into a light trot and then a jog, and then a full on sprint.

And stops just as suddenly.

Legend is out of breath by the time he slides to a stop behind the farmhand, but from a cursory glance around, there doesn’t seem to be a short, mouthy smithy anywhere in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Legend asks, still searching, turning circles as he cranes his neck, “Did you lose the trail?”

Twilight gives a light whine, grabbing Legend’s attention.

Then he does two full spins and sits primly, looking up at Legend.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Legend crinkles his nose at the canine. “Use your words.”

Wolfie rolls his eyes in a way that Legend didn’t think was possible for dogs and then stands.

The canine stares at him intently, as though making sure Legend’s eyes are locked with his own. And then he flicks his eyes over the yellow tulip he is sitting next to meaningfully. Then back to Legend. Back and forth back and forth, his eyes go for a full minute before he stops and stares at Legend once more.

Legend feels as his face wrinkles in confusion.

It's just a regular tulip, just like the thousands currently around them. Pretty enough, he supposes. The bulb seems to be a little wilted, like it's been weighed down by rain water perhaps, but other than that, nothing to sneeze at.

Or everything to sneeze at, if you’re Legend.

Legend gives the flower one more skeptical glance before turning to look at Twilight once more, brow raised.

“Pretty,” he assures the other. “Not sure how it helps us find Four.”

Twilight heaves another too human sigh.

And then he reaches up, takes the sleeve of Legend’s tunic between his teeth, and yanks.

“Hey!” Legend yelps as he’s dragged down into the dirt, “Watch the teeth! The embroidery on this thing took forever to do and even longer to enchant!”

Twilight pays him no mind, pulling him down and forward, closer to his chosen tulip.

Legend tries his best to keep his face away from the damn thing.

“I swear on The Three, if your slobber stains–”

Legend’s words crumple up and die in his throat.

There’s something in the tulip.

At first glance, Legend would identify it as the Smithy's earring. The small feathered one that he takes special care of. The one that Four refuses to tell Legend the origin of, besides his cryptic, “From a friend.”

Legend would say that it was just the earring, but… but it isn’t.

Rather than being completely red with a white tip, Legend can see that this little feather is only mostly red. Right before the tip, a darker red plumage takes over, followed by purple and blue and green.

Also, rather than being attached to the small, golden chain and stud Four uses to fasten the jewelry to his earlobe, it’s attached to a body.

A very, very small body.

By now, Twilight has let go of his sleeve, but Legend both doesn’t notice and doesnt care, all of his attention fixed on the little creature before his eyes.

From what he can tell, the little creature is asleep, curled up in the bulb of the flower, his feather tail tucked up near his nose for warmth. Looking past the plumage, Legend can see that the little guy has a very rat-like face, complete with a small, twitching pink nose, long whiskers and–because the creature is shivering– long, chattering rodent incisors. Oval shaped ears stick out from the creature's head, a mix between mouse-like and Hylian.

And framing those ears is shoulder length, soaking wet blonde hair.

Blonde hair held out of the little guy's face by a green headband.

And…

And he’s wearing the smithy’s tunic?

“... Four?” Legend whispers in amazement.

And just saying the other’s name out loud is like a spell because suddenly Legend can see all signs. The little guy has Four’s bag over his shoulder and the Four Sword at his hip. That same magic that was by the stump– the not-fairy, fairy magic– completely surrounds him, dusting him in the same way he is currently dusted in yellow pollen.

“Is that you, Smithy?” Legend asks a little louder.

But rather than startle awake, the small creature– Four, Legend reminds himself– simply hunkers down more fully into the flower, curling up more fully as his shivers increase.

“He must have transformed in order to speak with the Minish around here.”

Twilight’s voice, even though it is a whisper, gives Legend a start. He hadn’t realized the other had transformed, nor had he seen the farmhand crouch down by his side.

The other isn’t looking at him as he speaks, cool blue eyes instead locked on the fitfully sleeping smithy, face concerned.

“He once told me that the Minish are insatiable gossips. He must have transformed to try and find us.”

The concern on the farhand’s face darkens the longer he stares.

“He must have been caught out in the storm,” Twilight says grimly.

Legend tries to imagine what that would be like. To be the size of a mouse and out in a storm. Tries to imagine what it would feel like for gale force winds to pull at drag at him, crushing him into the dirt one moment and yanking off his feet the next. Tries to imagine dodging back and forth between tulips, avoiding the head sized, stone cold rain drops pelting down from the sky

It's not a pretty pictograph, he’ll admit.

And ugh, Legend really isn't a fan of what it's making him consider.

He spares another glance at Four.

And fuck, the little guy shivers and shivers and shivers until the fower he is sleeping in is shaking with it.

And then, he sneezes, the sound coming out tiny and squeaky and weak.

Son of a bitch.

With a sigh that is as weary and reluctant and annoyed as he can possibly force it to be even though the vetran is feeling none of those things, Legend takes hold of the flower near its stem. As gently as possible, he digs his nails into the soft green there, cutting the flower from the ground while keeping it intact.

He hands it to Twilight, who takes it from him with gentle, if slightly confused hands.

With one hand, Legend flips open his shoulder bag. With the other, he rips his hat from his head with a motion probably a tad more violent than is really called for. He arranges the hat inside the bag, making sure to cover his items with the soft fabric while also shaping a soft bed.

Without looking up from his work, Legend extends a hand out to Twilight.

Makes a grabbing motion when what he wants isn't immediately in his hand.

After a second, Twilight slowly places the stem of the flower back in Legend’s hand and the Veteran gently lowers it in the small nest he had created, making sure the bulb sits in a place both shielded from the sun and extra comfortable thanks to the extra fabric padding beneath it.

In one smooth motion, Legend takes a hold of the strap of his bag, pulls it carefully off of his shoulder, and places it on the other side of Twilight’s neck.

And then, he reaches down and touches the dark stone hanging from the necklace around the farmhand’s throat, letting the darkness flock around and consume him.

When Legend blinks open his eyes, Twilight is looking down at him smugly.

He is looking down farther than usual.

Also looking smugger than usual.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, shaking out his fur before hopping on all fours to get closer to the bag.

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight replies, not bothing to wipe the smug look off his stupid face even as he lowers the bag to the ground for easier access.

“Yeah you did,” Legend hisses quietly as he clambers carefully into the satchel, settling down the nest of leather and items and hat.

He pulls the flower closer to his side where it is warm.

Inside, he can feel as Four’s shivers begin to lessen.

"Cute," Twilight laughs from above them.

"Fuck you," Legend whisper spits, though he makes no move to push Four's flower away. If anything, he pulls it closer when he hears the smaller hero start to make small, chittering snores, surprised the smithy could sleep through such a racket.

Twilight, thankfully, doesn't comment, instead pulling the top of the bag loosely closed to give them some shade. Then, Legend feels as he gently lifts the satchel back up, slings it slowly over his shoulder as to not disturb the contents inside, and begins walking, hopefully back in the direction of the forest.

Legend can still hear the farmhand laughing to himself from within the bag, but without the others' eyes on him, he finds he doesn't care.

The pollen still itches at his eyes and nose and Legend can still feel the pound of his sinuses even now. But something about the shade and warmth and soft rocking of the bag makes it hard for him to mind.

Four gives a harty twitch, kicking a petal directly into Legend’s face.

And even that doesn't dissuade the veteran from his task.

Instead, Legend sighs and pulls Four even closer, relaxing despite the discomfort.

He’s got dirt on both Twilight and now Four, the two heroes with sticks most firmly inserted into their asses. He can get out of whatever chores and lectures they try to pin him with.

Yep, he thinks , distantly. That's why he did this.

For the blackmail.

And no other reason.

#yes this is the live write that started the whole sneet thing #I write fluff and thats the thanks I get for it /j #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #reluctantly soft legend is such a mood #I adore it #also #the image of minish four curled up asleep in a tulip made me go feral #so I had to share it with others #train writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse

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