#>> if i can find some old logs it could clear up a few things

[moonydustx]

Hii, i was wondering if you would like to write something about zoro being jealous? Just that haha :) btw i love your writing!

Hi Hi Hi! First, thank you for the request and the compliment, they really make my day. And second, sorry for the delay in writing, I ended up getting stuck with some work deadlines. I loved the idea and although our little greenie has a tough exterior, I think he would be one of those jealous people who refuses to admit it, you know? I think I ended up going on a more protective side with this one, but I hope you like it.

A not so friendly friend

Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader Warnings: Zoro is jealous and a little protective of his girl, he and F!Reader have a kind of secret relationship. A little smut at the end, nothing super explicit. Summary: The Straw Hats arrive on one of the islands where you lived for many years and, to your delight, you meet a long-time friend. Someone in the crew doesn't seem that happy.

requests open | one piece masterlist

It was almost impossible to keep your euphoria contained within your body. You hadn't set foot on that island in years and finally, you could spend a few days there - even if it was just long enough to record the Log Pose.

"Someone seems anxious to me." Usopp leaned next to you as the Sunny finished docking in the small port.

"Right after I left my home island, I spent a few years here, I believe I can still find some friends."

"I hope they're nice people."

"They sure are!" the two of you quickly turned your attention to Luffy, who was shouting that everything was ready to disembark. The two quickly walked towards the group, this time Franky would be responsible for taking care of the ship.

"We're finally here!" Robin joined the two of you. "From what you told me, there's a big library around here."

"Yes, I'll take you there, we also have great restaurants…" you listed. "Wait, how are we going to split up?"

"Well, from what you told me, it's five days until Log Pose finishes recording and since it seems to be an important island for you, we can do most of the things together." Nami explained and waited for the others to agree. "We've already distributed everyone's money, but today we're going after…"

"Food!" Luffy interrupted her and immediately felt Nami's hand slap him. "But you promised to take me out for that delicious pie." he turned to you.

"Yes, we will. Let's go down first, shall we?" you asked and everyone immediately agreed.

Like many other times, you watched Zoro go down first and almost automatically stretch out his hand for you to support yourself and go down. That gesture didn't go unnoticed by your crewmates, but they knew your personality well enough not to question it.

The group continues calmly to the island's central square. New stores, old schools, even some salespeople were the same and seemed to have recognized you when you waved, your cheeks already hurt from the fixed smile.

"I remember in that bar over there one time…" you commented and heard something in the background.

"Kitten?"

Everyone immediately turned towards the voice that called you as they watched you become a figure as you ran towards the blonde haired boy.

"Leo!" recognizing your former friend immediately, you threw yourself into his arms, allowing the man to lift you off the ground.

"Seems like she's well liked here." Robin chuckled as he watched you practically spin around.

"Is he also a pirate?" Brook analyzed him. "What do you think."

"He seems like a nice guy." Chopper replied smiling

"Kitten?" Zoro practically groaned when he heard the nickname, muttering under his breath.

Even with the man's hands on your waist, squeezing you tightly and your laugh being heard from afar, the way the word had come out of the other guy's mouth made it clear that Zoro wouldn't like his stay there in that city.

"Guys, I need to introduce him to you…" you pulled the man by the hand, bringing him closer to the gang. "This is Leo, he was one of the best friends I had here."

"I went?"

"Still one of the best friends." you laughed, being pulled into a side hug by the man. "Let me introduce my friends, Straw Hats."

You made a point of introducing each friend one by one and again that seemed to bother Zoro. Friend? His little rationality reminded him that you had never made anything clear about the implicit situations between the two of you, but the small bad feeling - which he refused to name - bothered him.

"Come on, I'll take you to our base." the man continued holding hands with you and guided the others.

"Wow, how different you look." "So, how has it been exploring the sea?" "I bet you haven't found anyone as good as me."

Every time the man opened his mouth to praise you, Zoro felt his hand grip tighter against the sword in his sheath. Just one of the three and he would do all the damage that crossed his mind. It was a strange feeling, watching you there with someone else, even if they were talking. Something that stirred any butterfly that might exist in his stomach, that made his eyes turn red, his hands itch to get him out and take that Leo's place. Zoro hated this new feeling that came over him.

"Hey Zoro." your voice woke him up from his trance. "Did you know that Leo is also a swordsman?"

"Interesting." His tone of voice was almost cynical, going unnoticed by you.

"This one is the executor." Leo pointed to the sword in his sheath. "It was supposed to have another name." the man turned suggestively to you.

"I would never let you use my name for that thing." you grumbled, turning back to Zoro. "He's one of the best swordsmen on the island."

"What's your bounty?" the provocation was implicit in the cynical smile that adorned Zoro's lips and this time, it had reached your eyes.

"I don't have one." the man replied calmly, reassuring you.

"Interesting." Zoro repeated and followed in silence.

The others seemed distracted, talking amongst themselves, but your eyes started to turn around a few times, following the green-haired man who started to walk further behind the group.

The afternoon passed quickly on the island. You met up with some other friends who didn't seem to be as close as Leo and when night fell, everyone decided to go to a bar. Everyone except one person.

"Zoro, can we talk?" you asked, moving away from the group that entered the place full of drinks and noise. "What is happening?"

"About what?"

"You barely spoke to me today and now you're refusing to drink?" you stood on your tiptoes, to touch his forehead. "Are you sure you don't want me to call Chopper to make sure you're not sick?"

"Everything is fine." he responded directly, even if he wasn't harsh, his eyes made it clear that something was wrong. "I'm going to go back to Sunny, take advantage of the free time to train."

"Greenie, please." the nickname you used so much to irritate him came out sweeter than he expected from your lips. That made it even harder for him to deny any of your requests.

"It's okay sweetie." his hand touched yours and the memories of watching you all day arm in arm with Leo made him pull away. "Your friends are waiting for you, go."

You watched him leave and even though your body almost involuntarily wanted to follow him, you let Zoro return to the ship.

The remaining four days felt like an eternity to Zoro. Something told him not to move away from you and on the other hand, with every laugh you gave Leo's direction, it was as if he was hurting himself. Why did he have to feel this way? It was just a friendship, wasn't it?

He managed to control himself, many times he managed to control himself. Seeing you have lunch next to him, watching the man carry you from one place to another, the stupid gifts he insisted on giving you and even Leo daring to say he could train you with swords.

Zoro didn't know if there was a god or something, but he thanked the heavens when the last night began to fall. The next morning, you would set sail and he would no longer be forced to share his attention with the idiot who called himself your friend.

The tall bonfire at the edge of the small forest was surrounded by members of the Straw Hats, Leo and some other friends. Drinks and food piled up, as did stories and songs that Brook made a point of singing. Your lips no longer smiled so much, especially when your favorite swordsman met your gaze. He was distant, it had been five days since you had barely been able to speak to him and when you did, he seemed to be as dry as the Alabasta desert. On the other hand, these days you had met a much clingier version of Leo, even uncomfortable and you didn't know how to get away - and apparently the person who could help you with this, didn't seem to be so worried.

"Kitten?" Leo bent down, stopping at your ear level. "Can we talk alone real quick?"

"Why?" you asked, seeing him find the question strange.

"We need more booze!" the man ignored what you said and said it out loud. Pretending he wasn't already talking to you, he nudged you. "Come on, help me, kitten."

Zoro watched the man say something to you and your expression changed, sulking. Leo repeated the gesture again, ignoring that he had already spoken to you. Something possessive took over Zoro - something was wrong and he wouldn't sit still until he found out what it was. Leaving the sake aside, the swordsman stood up and, following a more hidden path than yours, accompanied you to the back of the warehouse - which was the supposed base that Leo had presented a few days ago.

"What is this, Leo?" you stopped in front of him, seeing that they had taken a different direction than you expected.

"I know you're leaving tomorrow, but… Why wouldn't you stay here?" he asked and you immediately shook your head, before your lips could even say it.

"They're my family now. I still adore you, everyone here, but I'm going back to the sea." Your answer seemed to disappoint him. "You know it's always been my dream."

"I know it's selfish of me." the man approached, holding your wrists and, more gently than you expected, he guided you against the wall. "I like you, I always have. If you want, we can go to the sea together, we can form a family, we can…"

"I have a boyfriend." Leo laughed in disbelief, still keeping your arms tied to his, in an even tighter grip. "Leo, you've always been my best friend. Let's not ruin that."

"Friends? You've been missing for years!" he growled, slamming your fists against the wall.

For a few seconds Zoro chose to just watch, hatred was in his eyes and if it weren't for your presence there, Leo would already be just a memory in this world. He knew you weren't a lady in distress and that if you wanted to get out of there, you would get out easily. But there was something written in your eyes, something he saw very few times in battle - fear.

Before the man repeated the gesture, you watched Leo's face get closer and when he was millimeters away, he stopped. His eyes immediately widened and before you understood what the glow was on the side of his neck, you saw a small trickle of blood appear on the man's jugular vein.

"Get your filthy hands off my girlfriend…" Zoro's low tone was even more threatening than if he had been shouting. "Before I take them out of your arms."

"So it's him." Leo muttered, frustration clear in his voice. "I should have suspected."

"I'm sorry." you whispered, without even understanding why you were apologizing.

"I could kill you right now and believe me, I'm still debating whether to do it." Zoro approached, now allowing Leo's entire neck to be covered by the blade. "But I'd hate to ruin the banquet."

"Don't worry about that." Leo threatened to pull his sword, but this time it was you who held his hand.

"Just go back there Leo, let's pretend this didn't happen." you asked and Zoro could now notice how stressed you looked, but at the same time relief appeared on your face.

"She's right." Zoro muttered, moving even closer to the man. "Let's pretend none of this happened and maybe tomorrow you won't wake up just to choke on your blood and die."

"Zoro!" Your voice sounded like a warning to him, who lowered his sword and let the man leave.

For a few seconds, the two of you just watched each other. It was good to be able to have your boyfriend there, finally within walking distance of you.

"How are you feeling?" Zoro took the initiative and held your hands, as if analyzing where the man touched you. When you felt them trembling, he placed a quick kiss between your fingers. "Did he do anything else?"

"No, he just wanted me to stay here." you let your body lean against the cold wall. "Why just now?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"All week I've been trying to reach you, bring you with me, integrate you with my friends here." you huffed, feeling Zoro get even closer to your body.

"I wanted to give you space." he lied and saw you laugh. The sound - which this time was exclusively for him - made Zoro's ego inflate.

"I didn't know you were the jealous type." a moan of relief almost escaped you when you felt his arms wrap around your waist.

"Not jealous, just protective."

"What's your bounty?" you imitated him, laughing again. "Isn't that jealousy?"

"No, kitten." this time, he let a soft laugh escape his lips.

"I am sorry dear." you sank into his chest, letting his hands slide down your back. "I was excited to see everything again and I didn't understand Leo's real intentions."

"And why didn't you defend yourself?" your eyes met his and then Zoro realized his mistake. "I mean, I'll always defend you, but I've seen you get out of worse situations."

"I know." Again you cuddled up, the cold wind sent shivers through your body. "It's just that he was a friend, you know? He saved me many times and I guess I didn't expect to have to fight with him. He was never a threat." The sound of Zoro's heart against your ear was comforting, it was like going back to any of the crows nest nights, where you would stay tangled up for hours. "I found his behavior strange, he was never like that, clingy. But I didn't know who to ask for help."

"I imagine it would be difficult." Zoro murmured, letting his lips touch the top of your head. "Sorry I didn't show up sooner, kitten." he teased you, getting another laugh from you.

"Time to stop this kitten."

"Are you sure, kitten?" he said again, but Zoro's voice came out a few octaves lower, his provocation took a new turn.

His hands that had been caressing your back found themselves on your waist and pressed you against the wall. One of them went up to your chin and held you steady, looking into his eyes, but not for long. Eliciting a moan, Zoro took your lips intensely. No time for little kisses, or any affection that could come first. His lips brought longing and the taste of sake, mixed with the sweetness of your lips.

One of his legs fit between your thighs, the hands that held your waist forced you against the fabric of his pants, moving you like an incentive. While the assault on your lips didn't stop, the heat in your intimacy began to accumulate and form a knot.

"Zoro, please." a strangled moan left your lips, trying hard to contain the noise and not attract the attention of anyone nearby.

"I'm here, love. I got you, just give it to me." his lips that bordered the sensitive spot below your ear took your lips and held all your moans just for him.

Zoro held you there for some time, sweat accumulated on your face as you were still panting. It was a version that didn't appear that often, but you loved it when Zoro lost himself caressing your face, letting his lips slide delicately across your skin.

"Zo, I think we should go back." despite yourself, you moved away from him a little. "By now, Leo should already have contact for everyone."

"Great, at least for one good thing this good-for-nothing will do." upon noticing your lost look, Zoro continued. "I was tired of hiding it."

"Are you sure?" his hands cupped your face, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

"I love you woman, how can I not be sure of that?" the confession brought a huge smile to your lips.

"I love you more greenie."

Zoro took the lead and with his hand tied in yours, he guided you back to the fire. It was as if nothing had happened, everyone was still talking and drinking. Still feeling your legs weak from the little time you and Zoro had, you sat down and let him go get drinks.

Upon returning to his place, Zoro saw that even without saying anything, Leo was still staring at you, practically on the other side of the fire. With his chest puffed out in ego and relieved to finally have you back in his arms, Zoro sat behind you, so that you were between his legs and when he handed you your drink, he placed a kiss and a light bite on your neck. You were his and from now on that would be very clear.

"It can't be! It's too bad luck all at once!" Sanji's tearful voice attracted the attention of both of you and made you laugh out loud when you saw that the blonde was complaining precisely about the little scene between you two. "What does this mosshead have that I don't?"

"I knew!" Nami screamed and ripped Chopper's hat off. "You can go give me your money, you idiots."

"You guys bet on us?" you asked indignantly and to Nami, Usopp and Franky's joy, apparently they were the two winners.

"This world needs to end…" you laughed even harder when you saw Sanji handing the money to the navigator.

"That's it, now there are two idiots wanting what's mine." Zoro pulled you even closer to his body. "Only mine."

[boopiemadz]

Part 2 of...

!PopularReader X Travis Martinez headcanons

(series masterlist)

Travis - Loner boy

Reader - Popular girl

The first thing you remember is screaming, the pounding headache throbbing through your brain. Then the smell of smoke. Then silence.

You were told your whole life that being a leader is about composure. Control. Staying calm under pressure. But there was nothing calm about those first few days. Just blood, fire, panic.

You didn’t even know how long you were passed out for. You only knew that when you did wake up, your wrist was swollen, there was hysterical crying, and Coach Martinez was dead. You weren’t used to being helpless. Or maybe you just weren’t used to being seen that way.

The wilderness didn’t care about how popular you were. Or how many extracurriculars you had. Or how many teachers thought you were “going places.” The trees only asked: can you survive? And even then, it barely waited for an answer.

The outfit you wore- your varsity jacket, your faded pink checkered shorts, even the hair tie that matched your converse - it all felt ridiculous now. The truth was, you weren’t special here. Not anymore. (Maybe not ever)

And yet… some things still carried over. Jackie clung to her team captain routine, with Shauna still clung to her side like a shadow. Mari still acted like she didn't care when you could see it on her face very clearly. And Travis - well, Travis still barely spoke unless he was delivering a comeback.

But he was alive. (unlike his dad oop-) And you still had his sketchbook. You'd found it stuffed in your duffel bag after the third day. It was the same notebook you’d picked up on the bleachers that day after practice. The last normal day. You’d planned to give it back to him at Nationals. But Nationals never came.

Once the group had found a cabin, you had put the sketchbook beneath the corner of your blanket you had layed on the frankly disgusting floor, unsure why. Maybe because it reminded you of something human. Something quiet. Something not soaked in blood and dirt and grief.

You didn’t talk to him at first. There wasn’t time (at least that was your excuse). The first time you made eye contact was when Coach Ben asked Travis to help butcher a rabbit. You’d been tasked with cleaning the knife afterward. He passed it to you, still warm. You held his gaze for a second too long. He looked away first.

It wasn’t until the days later that you spoke. You couldn’t sleep. Jackie was snoring, and Misty was muttering something in her sleep. So you stood and walked toward the edge of the clearing, toward the trees. Toward the lake.

You didn’t expect anyone to be there, but he was. Travis. Sitting on a mossy log, staring at the water. You sat down beside him. He didn’t flinch, didn’t greet you, just glanced at your hands when you pulled out his sketchbook.

You had planned on taking some of the charred firewood and doing some late night doodling to fight off your insomnia, but now seeing that he was there, you thought it was about time to return it.

“This belongs to you,” you said, voice soft. “I meant to give it back.” He didn’t take it right away. Just looked at it. “Where'd you find it?” You paused, "On the bleachers after practice, I knew it was yours... Ive seen you sketching in it."

Silence stretched between you like fog. The lake was still, so eerily perfect that it looked fake. Like the set of a TV show. Finally, he took the sketchbook. His thumb ran across the cover. “Hope you didnt look in it. Some of those drawings are old,” he mumbled. “Not good.” You smiled, tired. “I doubt that.” He didn’t smile back. But he didn’t get up either.

You started seeing him more after that. Or maybe just noticing him more. He was different out here. Blunter. More guarded. There was a hard edge to his voice now, and something bitter in his mouth when he said “dad.” You understood that. You hadn’t spoken about your father either.

One morning out of the corner of your eye, you saw it, a drawing of yourself in his sketchbook. You - curled up near the fire, hair braided, eyes closed. Sleeping. He’d drawn you, like you were peaceful. Which you absolutly weren't.

“You shouldn’t waste pages on me,” you’d joked, your voice quieter than you intended. “I didn’t,” he replied, barely looking up. You weren’t sure what to say to that. So you didn’t.

Then came that night. You’d been gathering wood with Mellisa and Gen when someone shouted from the cabin - a fight had broken out between Mari and Misty over something you never quite caught, and it spiraled. Ben got involved, something he avoided at all costs.

Everything felt loud. So you ran. Not far. Just away. You ended up back at the lake. Travis found you there. Again. He didn’t speak right away. Just dropped his jacket next to yours and sat. The air was cold. You hugged your knees.

“They’re all going to kill each other,” you muttered with a half hearted chuckle. He picked up a stone, flicked it across the surface of the water. “Probably.” He laughed, more of a breath than a sound.

“I used to think if I kept everything together, I’d be okay,” you said. “Like if I played the role right, people would keep respecting me. That I’d get to be… happy.” He looked at you like he understood.

“I thought that too,” he admitted. “But my role was the fuckup.” You turned to him. “You’re not.” He exhaled. His breath fogged in the air.

You could see his jaw clench, his fingers twitch. He glanced at your mouth, then your eyes, then away. “I think about you,” you said before you could stop yourself. “Sometimes. A lot, actually.” He didn’t move. Just blinked. “Why?”

You bit your lip. “Because you’re the only person ive met who who isnt... fake, makes me feel, I don't know.” Something cracked in him then. Maybe in you too. Like the wall between you had thinned just enough to break. “I used to draw you,” he whispered. "During practice. Before the crash.”

“You... You did?" Then after a sharp breath. You just leaned. The kiss was slow. Gentle at first - unsure, almost afraid. But then his hand slid into your hair, and yours curled into his jacket, the space between you burned.

When you pulled back, your lips were pink, raw. You both looked away. “Is this going to be some sort of... secret,” you said. “Out here?” he scoffed. “There’s no such thing.” Then when your hand brushed his again, he didn’t pull away.

By the time you returned to the cabin, nothing had changed. But everything had. You weren’t the same. Neither was he. And when the others looked at you, they didn’t know. Not yet. But they would. Because from now on, you weren’t hiding anymore.

A/N-

Did you guys likey?

Should I keep writing for this... make an established relationship fic? Angst?? Make them a playlist??? Moodboard???? LMK PLEASE!!

(pls reblog and share it rlly helps)

inspo credits to @pb-n-jen for the scrumptious request

[foone]

Now I'm imagining a totally different version of that mini-story shitpost (I'd call it a ficlet if it was more serious), where it's a story about a floret elaborately planning an escape, but with a twist.

(mini-hdg fic follows. No sex, but this an inherently dubcon/noncon setting and there are some very minor references to that)

They figured out how to bypass some restrictions on the matter compiler by asking for things with components that could be reused. They've hidden tools inside some of their plushies, pushed to the back so their owner won't accidentally notice them.

Finally, it's time. The door to her quarters falls quickly from the acid attack (she's been doing hidden chemistry for Weeks). The ion storm will blind some of the sensors, so they only need a little extra help to not notice a DIY escape pod falling out of an auxiliary cargo bay.

The escape pod soft-lands (well, mostly. It hit a few tree branches on the way down) on the nearby habitable planet, and the door pops up. A floret in some brightly colored doll clothes resewn into hiking gear pops out. She holds up a sensor with a little screen on it, and it shows one big blue dot. Suddenly the dot grows, the screen's image is swamped out, and then it returns: nothing. No dots. The Cembroides has jumped out of the system. She's free without anyone noticing. She tosses aside the sensor she rigged out of a hair cutting machine, grabs some supplies from the pod, and hikes north.

A few kilometers later she finds a clearing with a small log cabin recently built in it. She opens the door without knocking, and says "Did you miss me?"

Her owner puts aside her book. "Of course I did little one! I was worried when your pod came down in the dense forest, but I see you made it safely here."

The floret smiles. "I wasn't worried! I used some hoverunits from an old medi-bed design, so my pod was slowed down enough that I just got jostled a bit. The real trick was figuring out how I could make the pod smart enough to land me near the cabin but not so smart that it'll discover what I'm doing and alert the Cembroides AI... I ended up with a nano-computer out of a dining tray wired into the thrusters. It thinks it's keeping my lunch warm, not flying a spaceship!"

Her owner beams an expression of leafy pride at her. "That's all very interesting, and I look forward to reading your report on it. But for now, come cuddle with mommy, and drink up. You've been hiking through the forest, you need hydration and nutrients now, little one."

The floret jumps into her vines, literally, and buries her face in the leaves of her owner. "it was a lot of fun! I've got some great ideas for the next time, too". She yawns, and cuddles closer, her eyes slowly closing. "But for now I think I'll rest..."

A distance away in the alien jungle, a small creature scurries out of the abandoned escape pod, as the discarded sensor loudly beeps an alert as one of the Cembroides' shuttles makes an FTL jump back into the system.

Back at the cabin, the Affini gently pats the head of their floret. You gotta make sure your pets have plenty of enrichment, you know? And sometimes that means letting them "escape", just so they can have the enjoyment of figuring out their escape plan.

The shuttle sets down besides the cabin, and the Affini carries her sleeping pet out to it, pausing only to activate a system to reclaim the cabin back into biomass for the forest to use. The shuttle takes off silently, and the sound of birds and other forest wildlife slowly returns, as the cabin slowly melts like a sand castle at high tide.

That sensor by the pod beeps again as the shuttle jumps out to meet up with the Cembroides, and something not entirely unlike a deer darts off into the denser forest in fright.

[whumpdoyoumean]

2 for Twisters if you’re up for it!! I loveddddd your White Christmas story!!

xxx "You're burning up."

Tyler has helped with more tornado clean ups than he can count. He's not new to physical labor--moving debris out of the road and loading it into pickups and trailers to be hauled off, cutting up downed limbs and trees. Not to mention the summers he spent working as a ranch hand as a teen. So he's not sure why today, when all he's done so far is sit at the table where volunteers check in and hand out water bottles, he feels like he's just been trampled by a bull. His whole body is aching and there's a heavy, unrelenting pressure behind his eyes that makes it feel like they might just pop out of his head at any second.

It's gonna be a long day.

"Yo, Tyler!"

Tyler looks up at Boone's greeting, squinting against the sunlight, and gives a half-hearted wave. "Hey."

Boone frowns at him, a quizzical half-smile on his face.

"What?" Tyler says.

"You okay?" Boone asks. "I was gonna see if you could come help with some heavy lifting but not gonna lie, you're, uh. You're lookin' kinda rough. Late night?"

Tyler's brow furrows. Rude."No. I'm fine, Boone. What'd you need help with?"

"Really, I can find someone else--"

"Boone!" Tyler says, pushing himself up from the teal plastic Adirondack chair. Immediately, his vision goes staticky, ears ringing, and he forces himself to stay upright, taking measured breaths until the dizzy spell passes. Boone is watching him closely when his vision clears. Tyler flashes him a fake grin. "I said I got this."

Boone doesn't look convinced, but just shrugs. "Whatever. Come on. We're gonna need to take my truck."

"What's wrong with mine?" Tyler says in (mostly) mock offense.

"Nothing's wrong with it, except you've got so much gear in the back that it's not gonna be that helpful for hauling shit off."

Tyler opens his mouth, then shuts it. He really can't argue with that. He follows wordlessly as Boone leads him over to his pickup, a beat up old 1970 Ford that's either yellow or some sort of pale green. The paint job is so faded it's hard to tell exactly what color it's supposed to be.

"I pay you enough that you can afford to replace this thing," Tyler says, grimacing at the loud groan of the passenger side door as he forces it open.

"Not a chance in hell, Owens," Boone says, giving the dinged up hood a fond pat. "Smokey has been very good to me."

Tyler's not feeling very chatty, but Boone is more than happy to fill the air space as they drive a few minutes to the other side of town to the old church building. The church itself appears to be in surprisingly good shape; the same cannot be said for the giant oak tree in front of it. The whole thing has toppled over, its roots pulled clean out of the ground. Someone has already cut off the limbs and cut the trunk into lengths, and the smell of sawdust and gasoline is almost overwhelming.

"We're moving the tree?" Tyler says.

"Mmhm," Boone confirms. "Apparently it was diseased, so it's pretty much only good for firewood. There's a guy with a fancy hydraulic splitter that'll cut it to size, but it's not mobile. So we're gonna get the rounds to him."

Great. Oak is a heavy wood, and the tree is big enough that the logs toward the base of the trunk are probably going to take two people to get into the back of the pickup.

"You sure Smokey can take it?" Tyler says.

"Of course he can!" Boone looks Tyler over again, scrutinizing. "Can you take it?"

"Let's just get this done," Tyler says.

-

It's hard work. Even if he were feeling his best, it would be hard work, and Tyler is definitely not feeling his best. Besides Tyler and Boone, there are four other people over here helping with the tree. They're all obviously capable people, and honestly could've gotten it done almost as quickly without Tyler's help – except that two of them recognized him. So it's not like he can just quit. Even if his muscles are burning, and his head is pounding, and his lungs ache, and the sweat he's working up definitely does not feel like the healthy kind. He's getting a little lightheaded, too. Not as bad as when he stood up earlier, but it's headed that direction. Luckily, they're almost done loading up the downed oak. He just has to last a little bit longer.

It's not much later that Boone says, triumphantly, "That's the last one!"

A small cheer goes up, but Tyler doesn't join in. He feels a little like he's gonna be sick.

"Hey, Owens," one of the other men says. Tyler doesn't remember his name, but he turns to him with a polite smile. The man looks worried. "You okay?"

Tyler opens his mouth with the intention of says, "Yeah." What happens instead is that, dizzy and feeling all-around shitty, he bends at the middle and pukes. He doesn't even have time to be embarrassed about it before the world spins wildly and everything goes black.

-

"Tyler?"

Tyler frowns. That sounds like... "Kate?" He opens his eyes to see her watching him, eyebrows all pinched up in worry. "What're you doin' here?"

"I came to see if any of you needed water. Got here just in time to see you pass out. What were you thinking volunteering sick?"

"Sick?" Tyler repeats drowsily. He feels odd.

"You're burning up," Kate says.

"Oh."

"'Oh'? That's all you have to say?"

Tyler squints at her, trying to puzzle out what else he's supposed to say here. The fuzziness of his brain is not helping on that front. So he says "Uh...Sorry?"

Kate sighs and shakes her head. "Yeah, I'm sure. Boone drove back to get someone from the medical tent to come check you out."

"There's no need for that," Tyler tries to say, but the words are all slurred together and it comes out in a jumbled mess. His head hurts. He closes his eyes. A second later he feels a thin trickle cool water being poured gently over his forehead, and then Kate's fingers are running through his hair. He lets out a low, contented hum. "Tha's nice."

He can hear the smile in Kate's voice, underneath all the irritation and worry, when she says, "You're an idiot, Tyler Owens."

Yeah, he thinks. What else is new.

xxx

[goldencuffs]

afterglow

inspired by the spectral files series by s.e. harmon!!

The ghost appears in his office after Damen comes back from his lunch break. 

Damen’s had a rough week already. The free pad thai in his belly right now is literally the best thing that’s happened to him in months. That’s not even an exaggeration.

The ghost in his office has been around before. He showed up a few weeks ago, at the start of summer, his expression boyish, sunny, hands in his pockets as he’d surveyed Damen’s office with visible interest. Then he had followed Damen to the kitchen and watched him make tea. And then he had pulled faces last Tuesday, during their morning briefings, gagging at the photos of Victor Reynold’s dismembered body. 

“I smell Thai,” the ghost says now. He’s pouting. “I want Thai. I love Thai food.” 

Damen ignores him, sitting behind his desk and logging into his computer. It’s only twelve in the afternoon. Damen wants to throw himself off the ledge of the building. 

The ghost struts about his office, still talking, listing off the other cuisines he loves (Mexican, Indian, Lebanese, Italian) as Damen pretends to read his latest case notes.

“Not going to lie though, definitely shat myself when I had that. I’m talking blocked pipes and everything.” The ghost shakes his head. “Man, that was a rough weekend.”

Damen sighs. 

The ghost perks up. “I know you can see me, man. You always get that face when I’m talking to you.”

Damen picks up a pen, just so he has something to do. So he can school his face into something more neutral. 

Of course Damen can see the ghost. He sees ghosts all the time. He’s seen them since he was seven years old. As a kid, he didn’t know the children he would play with were dead until Nikandros’ foot had gone through the football they were kicking around. 

Since then, Damen’s seen them everywhere. There was a widow who used to hang around Kastor’s old place, shrilly telling him off for painting the kitchen the wrong colour. Kastor had moved out three weeks after Damen had told him that. 

Most of the time, ghosts leave him alone. Sometimes they get excited when they realise he can see them. Sometimes they just want to talk. Some of them have harmless requests, like messages they want to pass on to a loved one.

And sometimes there are ghosts like the ones in his office, who don’t seem to have anywhere to go, who only seem to be attached to him.

The last ghost like that had been Aimeric Gaul, this skinny, baby-faced kid who had sad, wide eyes. He could only go where Damen could, and kept mentioning how much he missed his mother. 

Three months into watching Aimeric cry in the corner of his office, Damen had driven down to Fortaine to see his mother. Aimeric had sat in the front seat, wide-eyed as he watched the rolling landscape.

When Damen had told Aimeric’s mother that he had a message from her dead son, her husband had pointed a gun to his forehead and said, Get the fuck off my property.

Damen was placed on suspension after that.

So, yeah. He’s wary of the ghosts like this—the ones that are, inevitably, drawn to him. They’re the ones that cause trouble. 

Damen’s been through enough, thanks. He’s only just back from his suspended time off, and Jokaste has cleared the last of her things from their place, and sometimes he still panics when he can’t find the ring on his left hand, until he remembers that it’s shoved in a drawer in his closet. 

The ghost is still talking. “You know what I really miss though? Dumplings. Highly underrated, man. When’s the last time you had one? Take it from me—have as many dumplings as you can while you’re still alive. ‘Cause, one day you’re gonna be dead, and there’s no fucking dumplings here. Which is shit if you think about it, the least—”

Damen’s phone rings. He picks it up, glad for the distraction. 

Makedon’s voice is no-nonsense. “My office, now. Bring coffee.” And then he hangs up. 

Damen deliberately doesn’t bring the coffee. Makedon frowns at him, but doesn’t say anything else. 

He pushes a file towards him. “Welcome back, kid. Latest cold case is all yours.”

Damen groans. “Seriously? You’re assigning me to cold cases? What about Reynold’s murder? I hear they need more manpower.”

“Nah.” Makedon shakes his head. “Don’t think you’re in the right headspace for all that shit.” 

“That shit?” Damen repeats, frowning. “You mean, my job?”

Makedon stares at him for a few beats. “This is part of your job too, detective. Everyone gets assigned cold cases every now and then.”

“Bullshit,” Damen snaps. “You haven’t assigned me a real case in months, even before—” And here, he falters, too ashamed to bring up Aimeric. 

Makedon isn’t a soft man. Everything about him is rigid and unmoveable. But he does relax his shoulders a little. 

“This isn’t just about what happened in Fortaine. When’s the last time you slept, kid?”

Damen frowns.

“Yeah, exactly. Divorce ain’t easy, and it’s clearly been affecting you more than you realise. You’re so… angry all the time. You clocked the new intern so badly last week, he had to go home early.”

Damen sighs, heart twisting a little. Yeah, okay, yelling at Erasmus in front of everyone hadn’t been a good move, but Damen had his reasons.

…He just can’t remember them right now. 

“Work the case with Huet,” Makedon continues, “He’s good company, and isn’t afraid to step up.” 

Damen snatches the file. “Whatever,” he mutters darkly. “What’s the case?”

Makedon sighs. “Some kid drove himself into a lake about a decade ago. Was conclusively claimed as a suicide at the time, but his brother’s statement is pretty interesting, suggests foul play.”

Damen’s eyebrows raise. “Murder?”

Makedon shrugs. “The brother was thirteen at the time, and very close with the victim. So it could be an emotional thing. But…”

“But?”

“He pointed fingers at their uncle. Claimed he had strong evidence it could be a murder, but no one really looked into it too closely.”

“Hmm,” Damen says. “So, what, we’re supposed to go on the word of a teenager?”

“A very persistent teenager. Have a look—he’s called at least several times a year to see if the case has been reopened.”

“No shit,” Damen says in surprise. “He actually share any of this evidence, though? Or tell us why the uncle could be the perpetrator?” 

“That’s your job to find out.” Makedon yawns. “Where’s my fucking coffee?”

But Damen doesn’t pay attention to him. The first page of the case file is a headshot of the victim. 

Damen knows that face. He just left him in his office.

***

Auguste Henri Revere is—was—twenty-five when he died. 

He was incredibly popular, well-liked, and good at pretty much everything he did. Damen reads everything in his file: football captain, scholarship student at Arles University, part-time volunteer at the children’s hospital…

He doesn’t seem like the guy who would kill himself. Then again, the worst part about this job has always been that people can surprise you—in the worst ways possible. 

Nothing about his death is suspicious. It happened close to midnight, near a popular stretch of road in the city centre. There were several witnesses that saw a cream 1972 Ford Mustang veer off the road, straight into the lake. Police found a suicide note typed on Auguste’s laptop. He had cleaned his room the night before, donated things like clothes, jewellery, and sneakers. 

Damen reads what Laurent Gabriel Revere said. Now that statement is strange. Laurent was thirteen when Auguste died. Sources say they were close, that Auguste doted on him, especially since they were orphans, living with their uncle. Two years after Auguste died, Laurent showed up at the police station and accused their uncle of killing Auguste. He claimed he had evidence, but failed to elaborate. Witnesses said they had heard Laurent and his uncle fighting at the Revere home just half an hour before Laurent showed up at the police station. 

Police issued a search warrant at the Revere house. His uncle had readily complied. Nothing had been found. Nothing had been found in Auguste’s recovered car either. And there was never an autopsy done on his body. 

“Huh,” Damen says. 

He looks up at Auguste, who’s staring at the view outside his floor-to-ceiling windows. For the first time since he showed up in his office, Damen feels sorry for him. Auguste is twelve years older than him, but now here he is, forever twenty-five. Damen’s older than him now, and it’s strange to think about. What makes him more deserving of life? He isn’t even a good person—not the way Auguste is. Was. 

It’s not the most conventional way to start an investigation, but hey, he might as well. “How’d you die?” Damen asks.

Auguste turns to him blinking. His eyebrows raise. “That’s the first thing you say to me after all this time? Jesus, that’s cold, man.”

Damen bites his bottom lip. “Do you remember the day you died? Did you… er.” He can’t bring himself to say kill yourself. 

“The day I died? Hmm.” Auguste’s golden eyebrows furrow. “Let me see… I took Laurent out that day. We went to the fair, and he kept pretending he was too old to go on the rides.” His smile turns fond. “Then we… I dropped him home. I went to meet some friends but I don’t think I made it.”

“Fuck!” Damen scrambles up from his seat, and he’s grateful that his office door is closed. He doesn’t think he could explain to anyone why he’s so horrified. 

Blood streaks down from Auguste’s mouth, the corner of his eyes. His clothes are soaked through, turning transparent. His golden hair is matted and wet against his scalp.

Auguste moans. “I don’t feel so good. I don’t… I can’t talk about this anymore.” 

The blood starts pouring out of his ears. 

Damen stands, paralysed, unable to move. 

And then in a blink, Auguste disappears.

***

“Damn,” Huet says. “How much do you think this place will sell for? Three mill right? I mean, at least.” 

“Shut up,” Damen says. Huet is a new recruit and he is far too peppy and talks far too much. He is definitely not good company. 

Privately, Damen agrees about the house. It’s huge, a sprawling mansion adorned with steep, gabled peaks and chimneys, topped with slate tiles that glisten in the sunlight.  Ivy and climbing roses cling to the walls. As well as being Superman, Auguste was also apparently incredibly rich. 

The man who opens the door is undoubtedly related to Auguste. It’s the eyes—Damen has been staring at those blue eyes in photos and in his office for weeks now.

Richard Revere is in his mid-fifties. His hair is dark, coiled, and his beard is trimmed and peppered with white. There are rings on each of his fingers—giant gemstones that glisten as he shakes Damen and Huet’s hands as they introduce themselves.

He has no qualms about being questioned and invites them in. 

Damen’s eyebrows raise. They’re greeted by a grand foyer with a sweeping marble staircase, its balustrade intricately wrought iron, leading to the upper floors. The interior is a blend of opulence and warmth, with high ceilings, ornate moldings, and crystal chandeliers casting a soft glow over the richly decorated rooms. Antique furniture, plush draperies, and elegant tapestries fill the spaces, each room telling its own story of centuries past.

Richard has no issues with them being in his house. Damen has done this for long enough to go by his gut—and so far this man doesn’t seem like a murderer. He just seems like a rich man from an affluent society. 

Richard makes them tea, and then says, “So. You’ve opened my nephew’s case again?”

“We have,” Damen says. They’re sitting on the most comfortable armchairs he’s ever been, in a room with far too many books and far too many globes. 

“Interesting.” Richard sips his tea. For the first time, his tone is cold, disapproving. “May I ask why? I believe the last set of detectives were incredibly thorough.”

Damen nods. “I’m sure they were. But you understand we’re in a delicate position. We can’t brush off… certain statements.”

“Ah.” Richard’s mouth quirks in amusement. “So this is about Laurent, then.” 

It’s Huet who nods this time. He says, “He called the last leading detective just six months ago, sir. He’s still adamant about…” He awkwardly trails off. 

Now Richard looks very amused. “Oh, I see. Of course. Did you know Laurent happens to make those calls to the police station every time we have a fight?” 

“Well,” Damen says, as Huet makes a note of that. “We’d like to talk to him too. Is he around?”

“He is.” Richard nods. “Upstairs, sleeping.”

Damen doesn’t react when Auguste appears in the living room. He looks like his usual self, dry and golden, free of blood. 

“You need to go upstairs,” Auguste says, and for the first time, there’s a note of frustration in his voice. “I can only go where you go. I want to go upstairs. I want to see my room. I want to see Laurent.” 

“We’ll come back later then,” Damen says. He ignores Auguste’s No! 

Richard leads them back out into the sunlight. Auguste trails after them, eyes flicking over every inch of the house, his gaze wondrous. It fills Damen with pity. 

They make their goodbyes out on the porch. Damen can see some of the neighbours take interest in their police car, but Richard seems unfazed. 

A portly woman at the end of the driveway asks them, “Laurent again? He’s a shame to the Revere name.”

Huet raises both eyebrows. Damen makes a mental note of that.

As they walk to the car, they hear a frantic, whispered. “Hey!”

Auguste gasps. “Laurent.” 

Damen follows his eyes. There’s a window at the side of the house on the second level. Someone’s opened it up enough to wave at them. 

Damen steps closer. Auguste rushes up to the window. “Laurent!” 

Laurent doesn’t hear his brother. But he does notice Damen approaching and beckons him over. 

Damen stands under the window, shoulder to shoulder with a dead man, and looks up at the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. 

Laurent’s hair is golden, falling across those same stunning, blue eyes, his lashes long and dark. His skin is luminous and sweetly pink. 

“Damn,” Huet says under his breath. 

“He’s so grown up,” Auguste whispers. 

“You’re here for Auguste’s case?” Laurent says. 

Damen has to strain to hear him. Laurent’s voice is low, anxious, like he’s worried about being caught. 

“Yeah, we are.” Damen clears his throat, which is suddenly scratchy.

Something bright sparks in Laurent’s eyes. He’s still whispering. “Great. You think you can meet me at the diner down the road in an hour? I can’t get away until he leaves the house.”

That instantly sets alarm bells in Damen’s head. He frowns. 

“God, he looks so different,” Auguste says.

Damen nods at Laurent, who’s still anxious, still waiting for a response. 

“Okay, we’ll see you.”

Laurent nods and shuts the window, disappearing from view. After a moment, Auguste does too. 

[nahoney22]

Some fluff/comfort with Crosshair? Where m!reader had a tough mission and was having an overall bad day? Also congrats on 4000!! :D

Certainty

M!Reader X Crosshair

word count: 1k

After a mission went sour, you’re left feeling deflated. So when Crosshair finds you training by yourself, he’s there to offer you a piece of advice.

warnings: fluff/comfort fic, can be read as romantic or platonic, reader has bad day, hugs, target practice, male reader.

authors note: sorry for the wait and thank you for the request! Enjoy 🩵

You gazed out into the endless expanse of hyperspace from the confines of the Marauder, the events of the mission replaying incessantly in your mind, particularly your own costly mistake. What should have been a routine shot spiraled into a domino of problems, turning what was supposed to be a simple mission into a desperate struggle. The weight of responsibility weighed heavily on you, and you couldn't shake the feeling of self-blame.

Already in a foul mood, the day had started with a spill of caf on your equipment, followed by Hunter's impatient reminders to hurry up cleaning your things as the rendezvous loomed closer.

“How long until we touch down?” you inquired, turning to Tech who manned the ship.

“I would estimate around 1 hour and 27 minutes. Why do you ask?” he replied, seemingly oblivious to your tense demeanor.

“Could you wake me when we're about to land? I need to focus on some training,” you requested, receiving a simple nod in response. With that, you made your way to your bunk, passing by Crosshair who stood against the ship's wall. Though he glanced up as you approached, you chose to bypass him without a word.

His frown followed you as you exited, prompting him to eventually make his way to Tech in the cockpit. “What's his issue?”

Tech turned to face his brother, a knowing expression etched on his features. “It seems he's frustrated with how today's mission unfolded. Your decision to let him take the shot likely added to his distress.”

Crosshair shrugged nonchalantly. “He wanted to. I trust his abilities. Besides, we've faced tougher challenges before.”

“True,” Tech agreed, recalling a particularly harrowing mission on Kashyyyk that ended in disaster before refocusing on the current issue. “But he has not been with us long enough to experience setbacks like this one.”

Crosshair sighed, crossing his arms. “I'll talk to him once we land.”

“That's a good plan, especially since he's planning on training,” Tech suggested, returning his attention to the ship's controls. With a deft press of a button, he guided the Marauder out of hyperspace. “Perhaps you should help him.”

As instructed, Tech had roused you from your brief nap, prompting you to gather your rifle, gear, and a few props before venturing out of the ship and into a remote area. Unbeknownst to you, someone trailed closely behind.

Upon reaching a clearing devoid of civilisation, you arranged some old canteens on a fallen log for target practice. After positioning yourself at what you deemed an optimal distance and crouching behind a sizable boulder for cover, you took aim and fired, only to miss. Frowning at the initial failure, you attempted another shot, only to repeat the same outcome. Your frustration mounted with each subsequent miss, leading to a barrage of shots that seemed to hit everything except the intended targets.

Cursing aloud, you impulsively kicked the boulder, immediately regretting the action as pain shot through your toes. "What did that boulder ever do to you?" remarked Crosshair, his familiar voice breaking the tense silence as he entered the clearing, observing your outburst and string of missed shots.

"Hi Crosshair," you grumbled, earning a low chuckle from him as you settled atop the boulder, nursing your injured toes.

Crosshair stood before you, tilting his head curiously as he watched your frustration. "How are your toes?" he inquired.

"Sore," you replied, wincing at the discomfort before meeting his gaze. "And my aim? Terrible. I don't understand. I'm usually a good shot. You've seen me shoot, but I've never missed this much before."

Crosshair remained silent for a moment before retrieving a toothpick from a pouch and casually placing it in his mouth. "Are you stressed?" he asked simply.

You pondered his question briefly before shaking your head. While it had been a rough day, you couldn't fathom how it would affect your performance to this extent. "Not that I'm aware of," you admitted, absently brushing dust off your knee. "Though today's mission was a disaster."

Crosshair shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not uncommon for missions to go awry. Your body can move and your brain is working so I’d consider that a win."

You chuckled softly, feeling a fondness for Crosshair as his presence always seemed to complement yours perfectly. "I guess. I just can't shake the feeling that I could've accidentally hurt someone."

"But you didn't," he countered, seizing your rifle. "So try again."

You blinked at the command in his gaze before reluctantly rising to your feet, bracing yourself for another potential failure.

As you lined up your shot, Crosshair subtly adjusted your position, his touch both unfamiliar and strangely comforting. "Relax. Only shoot when you're certain. Don't hesitate," he advised, his words echoing in your mind as you prepared to take aim once more.

Despite feeling the weight of his expertise bearing down on you, you focused on his guidance. But just as you were about to pull the trigger, Crosshair whispered in your ear, "Breathe," before stepping back and watching.

You blocked out the distractions, following his advice. Breathe. Relax. Wait for certainty. And when you finally took the shot, the satisfying clang of a canteen being hit filled the clearing.

"I did it!" you exclaimed triumphantly.

Crosshair smirked, twirling his toothpick between his fingers. "Told you so. You just need to shoot when you know it's right. Don't freeze up. Wait until you're certain."

His lesson resonated with you, and with newfound confidence, you lined up your shots again, hitting each target with precision.

Grinning, you leaned your rifle against the boulder and approached Crosshair. "Thank you, Crosshair."

"No need," he replied dismissively, but you couldn't resist wrapping your arms around his slender frame, surprising him momentarily before he reciprocated with a gentle hand on your back, offering a small smile. "If you ever need more practice, you know where to find me."

More Crosshair Works

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet t @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @kryptoknight123

[hero-of-the-wolf]

So here's a thing me and @crazylittlejester have been working on. Enjoy :)

Summary: After a difficult journey during the day full of obstacles and hard battles, Time finds himself trapped repeating the same battle over and over again. He has no choice, if he wants to save his brothers. However every time he uses his ocarina to reverse fate, he finds the price of saving his lost companion is the life of another.

or: Time loop fic where everyone keeps dying and Time is the only one who can save them all.

Someone was talking.

Already?

Time sighed, resigning himself to wakefulness and opening his eye. Warriors was leaning over him, his hand already resting on his shoulder.

“It’s your turn for watch.”

Right.

Time sat up with a groan. It felt like no time at all had passed since they’d first set up camp. And before then, they’d been stuck in a grueling battle that had burned through most of their supplies. It had been a long day.

He glanced over to see Warriors smirking at him. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” The captain walked over to his own bed roll, no doubt excited at the prospect of a good night’s rest. “I was just thinking about how much ‘old man’ suits you, is all. I swear I could hear every bone in your body pop.”

Time rolled his eye, even though he knew Warriors couldn’t see it. “Very funny.”

“Thanks, I try.” Warriors flopped down on his roll dramatically with a sigh. “How are you doing, by the way?”

Time hummed at that. “I’m sure we’ve all had worse battles.”

“You’re not answering my question, Sprite.”

“I’m fine. Truly.” He sat down on the log Warriors had previously been sitting on. “We'll head to the nearest town to pick up some more supplies in the morning. Hyrule mentioned that we should be able to reach one by the end of the day.”

Warriors hummed in response. He fell silent after that, no doubt already giving in to his exhaustion. Good. He needed the rest. Time knew his shoulder was still bothering him, though the captain would never admit it.

He glanced up at the sky, noting the stars. They weren’t as bright here as they were at home, but they were beautiful all the same. The moon was out too, an almost sinister looking sliver of a smile. Time shook his head at the memories of a different moon with a sinister face and turned his attention to the fire in front of him. It was low already, but he was sure that it would last until morning. He took in a deep breath, savoring the peace that only being this deep in nature could bring.

A bokoblin’s horn reverberated through the previously still night air, making him jump.

“Everyone, up!” He shouted, springing to his feet. His sword was already in his hand. There was no time to put on his armor. The monsters were already pouring into the clearing.

Everyone scrambled to their feet, grabbing their weapons. There wasn’t even time to reach their shields. Time was lucky enough to have had an extra precious few seconds to grab his.

He felt Warriors’ back press against his own. He felt far too exposed without his armor. All of them did. But Warriors wasn’t afraid. He was annoyed.

“I can’t believe this,” he grumbled. “I got like, what, five minutes of sleep? Couldn’t they have waited until morning??”

Time's lips twitched up at that, despite their unfortunate circumstances. The poor captain had taken first watch. He’d gotten basically no sleep since their earlier battle, and he was prepared to make it everyone else's problem.

Time pressed harder against him, dodging the blow of an incoming lizalfos, and Warriors’ whining switched to complaining about his still sore shoulder.

Everything passed in a blur after that. Once the last monster was felled, Time hurried to do a headcount. They’d been at a serious disadvantage. He had faith in his boys, but he needed to make sure everyone was okay and accounted for.

Warriors was next to him, dusting himself off.

Twilight was helping Four back up to his feet.

Sky was sitting on the ground, looking winded but otherwise okay.

Hyrule and Legend were chatting off to the side.

That left….

“Has anyone seen Wild and Wind?”

Everyone’s attention shifted to him at that.

“I thought that they were with you,” Twilight frowned.

“I thought that they were with you,” Legend retorted.

“The last I saw them, they were over… there.”

Time looked where Sky was pointing. It was still far too dark to see clearly, so he cautiously approached, jerking to a stop when his foot almost slipped off the edge of a sheer drop. His heart plummeted straight down to his boots.

“They must have fallen down.”

The cliff was steep, but Time managed to find his way down to a sizeable ledge. The aftermath of a battle was strewn everywhere. They must not have been the only ones who had fallen. Warriors followed close behind, dropping down next to him.

By the time Time found them their bodies were still warm.

He fell to his knees, desperately checking for any sign of life. He was too late. Too slow. He—

From behind him, Warriors came to a sudden stop. A horrible keening sound escaped him, one that would haunt Time for the rest of his days. He stumbled to his side and drew the two younger boys into his arms. Time forced himself to his feet and stepped back. Almost on instinct, his hand reached down and clasped his ocarina. He could still fix this.

“Captain… it’ll be okay.”

Warriors looked up at him, distraught. Even after a whole war of losing people, the grief of death was something nobody could ever get used to. Not even the captain. “How can you say that? This- This isn’t okay.”

Time smiled at him sadly and raised the ocarina to his lips.

The song was one he knew all too well. The rhythm of time slowed to a stop, then started reversing. Time went as far back as he could, before ending the song and breaking into a run. He knew where they were now. He could get to them in time.

The ledge they’d fallen down to was hard to see from up top in the predawn darkness, but he knew exactly where to go. When had they even fallen? Everything had happened so fast. He climbed down as quickly as he dared. He needed to be faster.

Wild and Wind were surrounded by monsters. Wild was already hunched over, clutching at a red stain on his side that was rapidly growing.

Time almost lost his grip when Wind yelled in pain and collapsed. No.

He dropped down and unsheathed his sword, swinging it in a wide arc. The three lizalfos in front of him were cut down before they could even blink, let alone jump out of the way. A large black moblin rounded on him next. He parried its spear and stabbed it straight in the gut. He didn't have time for this.

“Tell me about your island, Sailor,” Wild’s voice, as quiet as it was, seemed to echo in his skull. Those were dying words. But he was so close!

Everything else drowned out but the sword in his hands and the words in his ears.

“It’s beautiful,” Wind whispered. “There’s a fairy fountain at the top… top of the mountain, y’know. And a bridge… bridge’s broken, though. And my sister… and grandma….”

Another moblin.

“Champion?”

Two bokoblins.

“I’m here, kid.”

“Not a kid,” Wind rasped. The fire in his voice was fading fast. They were running out of time.

Only a lowly bokoblin was left, standing between him and his fallen brothers. Time glowered at it, leveling his sword.

Nothing was going to stand between him and his brothers. He swore to Hylia that he wouldn’t let this be the end for them.

The bokoblin charged. A fatal mistake. Time easily deflected its blow with his sword, twisting around to stab it in the back.

The last monster fell. Time sank to his knees at his boys’ side again, heaving a sigh of relief. He reached into his pouch with trembling fingers, grabbing the first bottle he could find and pulling it out. The fairy flew out without delay and circled around the two boys. Their wounds disappeared. Like none of it had ever even happened.

Wild sat up, a smile already on his face. “Hey, old man.”

Wind was still clutched in his arms, blinking up at them both. Then he smiled, too. “Took ya long enough.”

Time closed his eye, just for a moment. They were okay.

He didn’t really have the time, but he couldn’t stop himself from clapping a firm hand on both their shoulders, checking them both over with his eye for any lingering injuries before getting up from where he was crouched in front of them. Sounds of clanging swords and frustrated shouts came from overhead where the others were, and Time knew he had to get himself and the boys up there to help as soon as possible.

Wild was easiest to help back up over the ledge. The kid was terrifyingly gifted at scaling up cliffs, and only needed a bit of a boost from Time to help him get up there faster than he could have on his own. The second the champion completely disappeared over the edge and back onto the cliff top, Time turned to Wind, locking his fingers together to provide a hopefully steady foot hold.

“Ready, kid?”

Wind nodded sharply, a determined look on his face, before placing his small boot in Time’s hand and reaching up towards where Wild’s hand was extended down for him to grab. Time helped shove him up as far as he could, supporting the little pirate’s weight as much as he was able to until Wild got a firm enough grip to haul him back to safety.

Unfortunately for Time, there was no way the two younger heroes would be able to pull him up as well. The ledge was high enough that he couldn’t get a firm grip by jumping for it, not that he wanted to risk falling to his death should he lose his footing, and it was too dark to properly see how much space he had.

Warriors’s face poked over the edge, giving him a familiar crooked grin.

“Well you’ve gotten yourself rather stuck, Sprite,” his brother teased, and Time couldn’t help but instinctively cross his arms over his chest and glare up at the captain in defiance at the tone in his voice. It wasn’t his fault he’d gotten trapped down here, he was saving Wind and Wild’s lives!

The image of their bodies flashed across his mind and his expression dropped as he felt his breath catch in his chest.

He forced himself to shake his head to free himself from the sight of a fate that no longer existed.

Warriors’s hand reached down just low enough for Time to grab when he ran and jumped for it, and there was a moment when his hand clasped around his brother’s where he was terrified his weight would drag them both down over the edge, but a second pair of hands reached down and grabbed his forearm, helping the captain pull him up.

Time allowed himself five seconds to pant in the grass on his back before forcing himself to sit up, giving Sky a grateful nod for helping him before taking Warriors’s offered hand and letting his brother drag him to his feet. He looked around for Wind and Wild, squinting to make out their shapes in the dark, and spotted them with swords raised, helping Legend fight off a large group of Lizalfos. They were moving okay, they were breathing, they were fine.

He saved them, and now he had to help the others finish this battle.

They could do it, they’d done it a hundred times already. There was nothing even special about this group of monsters, they were all going to be just fine.

He hated that he hadn’t been able to go back far enough to give them enough time to put their armor on before the battle started. Time couldn’t help the surge of anxiety that blossomed when he felt Warriors’s spine press into his back when the captain’s shoulders met his, unprotected from his usual amount of armor. His brother was too vulnerable like this, they were all too vulnerable like this.

The captain groaned when Time’s shoulder slid against his.

“You okay?” He asked quickly, shifting so he wasn’t leaning too much on his brother. Warriors’s shoulder had been dislocated earlier in the day during the previous battle, and while he’d had a red potion or two shoved down his throat, Time had no doubt it was probably still sore.

“No, I’m not okay,” the captain whined, and he didn’t have to be facing him for Time to know with certainty there was a pout on Warriors’s face. “Can a man not sleep for more than five minutes without having something happen to him?? Hylia!!”

“What has the world come to?” Time sighed, overdoing it a little on the sadness he forced into his voice.

Warriors pushed against his back roughly in retaliation, grumbling something under his breath that he couldn’t hear.

They worked together to beat back the monsters that had surrounded them, and Time tried to focus on his brother behind him instead of letting his mind drift back to Wind and Wild’s bodies. Each bokoblin he cut down made him feel further and further from what he’d just seen, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of shock he’d felt.

Life was a very fragile thing. None of them were going to live forever, but those two were just kids. This was not their place to die.

“We’re so fucked, why are there so many of them??” Warriors sighed, and Time couldn’t find his voice to agree with him. Not after what he just saw. Not after what he’d erased. He refused to believe they were ‘fucked’.

He had a second chance, he wasn’t going to let anyone die, not this time. He’d already healed Wind and Wild, he just needed to keep an eye on them and all the others and they’d pull through as they always did.

Something swooped down towards their heads that Time couldn’t quite make out in the dark, and while he’d managed to duck out of its path, the thing hit Warriors square in the face.

“What the fuck!!” The captain screamed. “What was that?!”

“Keese!” Hyrule shouted from somewhere to Time’s left. He couldn’t spare a second to look over at the traveler, he was too busy trying to defend both him and his temporarily stunned brother.

“Why!!”

“Fuck you mean, ‘why’??” Legend yelled.

Time swatted at the damned keese with his shield when it swooped down at his head again.

“Just be glad you didn’t get hit by a swarm of them!” Hyrule laughed. “That one must not be from this era, my keese never travel alone!”

It took Warriors an embarrassing number of tries to cut it down, and by the time he had, Time had mostly cleared out the bokoblins around them. He took a moment to breathe and try to spot Wind and Wild in all the chaos.

“Look out!” Twilight screamed, and Time ducked, shoving Warriors out of the way as well when an axe went flying overhead, glinting in the light of the moon. Thankfully it embedded itself in a nearby tree as opposed to any of the boys.

“Thanks, goat boy!” The captain called back, brushing himself off as he got up, holding out a hand to help up Time.

He missed the concerned look Warriors gave him as he steadied Time on his feet, he was too busy looking around the clearing, counting seven hylian heads still up and moving. Once sure everyone was safe he couldn’t help but feel anger towards himself for being so distracted that he’d almost allowed himself and Warriors to get hit by a flying axe.

“Hey, everything okay?” His brother asked, kicking a bokoblin he didn’t recognize down when it waddled a little too close, bringing his sword straight down into it and ending the little creature. “You didn’t hit your head on the way down to get Wind and Wild, did you?”

Time didn’t have a chance to open his mouth before Warriors grabbed his chin and started moving his face around to check for cuts or marks where he might have been hit.

He swatted away the captain’s hands, ignoring the way Warriors raised an eyebrow at him and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m fine,” he told him, and he meant it. He was fine, so were Wild and Wind, and so were all the others. He just had to get out of his own head and focus, this was no time or place for mistakes.

“Are you sure?” Warriors questioned, because of course he wouldn’t just drop it. “You seem really distracted and a bit out of it.”

“I’m fine,” Time repeated with an annoyed huff. He could argue with his brother later, right now he had to focus on killing monsters.

He got lucky when a lizalfos jumped down on the other side of the captain, freeing him from whatever lecture on hiding injuries Warriors was no doubt prepping to give him. It didn’t take long to deal with the monster, and in all the chaos it was quite easy for Time to slip away to another side of the clearing.

He headed over towards Four, who was singled out by a group of bokoblins. The poor young man was doing his best, but there was no one near him to help at all, and from what Time could see through the darkness, no one else was in immediate need of assistance.

“Oh Hylia, thanks,” Four wheezed when Time was able to take out a huge wave of bokoblins in one swing with his significantly larger sword.

“Any time,” he said quickly, swinging again, this time in a large arc right over Four’s head when the younger hero ducked.

Legend came sprinting past with an enraged cry, chasing after a moblin that kept bouncing out of the way of his swings.

“Fucker!!” He screamed when he missed again.

Time snorted, taking a moment to check on Wind and Wild one more time. They were a terrifying duo, with Wild dancing about and weaving between the monsters, shoving them right into Wind’s sword. Every time they successfully got another one, the pirate let out an evil little cackle, the faint light making his eyes sparkle.

They were fine, and the number of monsters was finally getting smaller as less and less of them swarmed into the clearing.

His mistake had been allowing himself less than a second to believe that they were all going to be fine.

He hadn’t even seen it happen, his back was turned, all he’d heard was a sickening crack followed by Legend’s awful scream. He felt his breath catch in his throat but he couldn’t hear anything besides that awful sound the vet was making and his own pounding heartbeat. He knew what he was going to see when he turned, he knew, and he didn’t want to look, but he couldn’t stop himself. Time whipped around to look at them, so quickly that he felt nauseous, although that might have been because of the angle Four’s neck had been twisted at, or the way his lifeless eyes were still staring up at the sky, or the horrible way his dead body was sprawled in the grass.

Time didn’t waste a second, he couldn’t bear the sight of one of his dead brothers a second longer. With trembling hands he brought the ocarina to his lips and began to play as warm tears ran down his face.

READ THE REST ON AO3!!! :)

[sailorshadzter]

here I am again

im so happy to be writing again I could cry many tears.

thank you to everyone who keeps reblogging / liking my new & old stories. it really means a lot. <3

She wonders, as she looks up into the sunset colored sky, if there would ever again be a moment such as this one.

If there would ever come a day where she felt peace, where she felt hope… Where she felt as if there was a reason to live. 

She thinks of every moment that has led her to this very one- to standing in the courtyard of her home, of Winterfell, without the terror she once felt. Gone was the monster that held her here within the walls of her family home, his skin stripped from his bones by the hounds he used to kill more than one innocent life. Ramsay Bolton was dead, those hounds released by her own hands, and she had stood and watched until the last gasping breath escaped his lungs. 

Retribution had never felt so good. 

A shiver races her spine, foresight some might say, and she pivots just in time to see Jon appear in the double doors, the brightly lit torches of the main corridor his backdrop. He catches sight of her at once and his solemn face changes- softens, brightens, a smile twitching on his bruised face. “Sansa,” he greets as he approaches and she sees now her cloak is draped over his arm, brought for her out of his genuine concern. “It’s cold out here,” he says, extending his arm out for her to take the cloak, which she does, swinging it around her shoulders with a thankful smile. “Walk with me?” He questions and she arches a brow in a silently posed question, though she nods, looping her arm through his as they fall into step together. 

She’s surprised to find he’s leading her down into the godswood, a place neither of them have yet to visit on the first day of their retaking of Winterfell. “It’s snowing,” she says so softly that for a moment, Jon only thinks he’s imagined her speaking. Sure enough, he can see now that the snow is softly falling, a beautiful sight somehow now that he’s there in the godswood with her. 

Sansa is stepping away from him now, standing beneath the canopy of weirwood leaves, hand outstretched as if she means to catch the falling flakes in her very palm. Her lips curve with a smile and he feels his heart swelling, the sight of that smile so very beautiful to him, far more beautiful than the falling snow ever could be. “Aye,” he finally answers, clearing his throat as he takes the few steps that separate them. There’s a rush of emotion in his heart that sends shivers down his spine and he knows, gods does he know, that they aren’t natural, not when they’re caused by this woman standing in front of him. And yet… He doesn’t ever want them to go away. He watches as she sinks down beneath the heart tree, sitting down upon the very log their father once sat upon day after day; through the leaves, the setting sun weaves golden light into her magnificent red hair, like a queen’s crown upon her head. “It feels good to be here again,” he says instead of anything else- the truth, it’s always there upon his lips, but the truth would be the worst thing he could ever possibly say.

She smiles, tilting her head, hair cascading across her shoulder as she gestures for him to sit down beside her. He does and their shoulders brush, the slight touch sending waves of something through her body. Sansa isn’t certain she’s ever felt a connection with someone like this before and for some reason, it feels almost shameful. As if… As if it’s wrong, somehow. “It does,” she replies, softly, hands twisting in the folds of her  old gray gown. Jon reminds himself to find her fabric to make a new gown for herself, perhaps one even nicer than the green velvet she’d debuted only a few days before. “I thought we’d never make it home.” She admits as she looks back up and over at him, their eyes meeting in a way only theirs ever do. Jon looks at her as if he can see into her very soul, with those somber gray eyes that remind her of the past. 

Jon reaches for her hand without a second thought, squeezing it gently, surprised at how small it was beneath his own. “I promised you, didn’t I?” He asks quietly, seriously, and she blinks back at him in surprise. But then she’s smiling, nodding, her other hand sliding into place over his. “I promised you I’d protect you, Sansa, and I mean that. That meant getting you home.” 

“We’re home,” she clarifies and he chuckles, nodding. 

“We’re home,” he agrees. 

When she thinks about it now, as she puts her head to Jon’s shoulder and he laces his fingers in with her own, there was only one other thing in the world that felt better than retribution. 

It was this.

[utterfuckingchaos]

Got bored, might have accidentally wrote down a decent plot idea for an internet cosmic/eldritch horror story.

---

I'd go full horror movie. Have each of the alts either slowly get picked off one by one, maybe ending the chat with a bit of a keyboard smash, then go offline permanently. Throw in one or two of them reacting to something they hear, start to type something, but then never hit enter. Make everyone else think they're all being killed off, one by one. Or if you really want to be spooky, have each of them speak in sync, same words, all around at the same time. If you got multiple devices at your disposal, have them be sent at the same time. Make it a bit cryptic, not a murderer, but something more supernatural, perhaps eldritch in nature. Then, add all the alts, and all the old friends into one group chat. Go to a local library with computers, hog as many as possible, log into discord for each alt on all of them, or find a way to be logged onto each account at once. Then have each one say something like: "A dark force exists beyond all of us, a being older than time, and far more vast that what any mortal man can understand. I've witnessed it, and it made things clear. I don't matter, none of us ever did. As important as a small cluster of ants in a vast city. Even now, I see it watching me, I taste copper, my eyes grow dark. My hands move but I do not control them. Muscles seize, body frozen. I see what lies beyond, and it doesn't make sense. I am afraid, but yet I feel no real dread. You can look as well, just stare into the endless abyss of space, and you'll see it. And it'll see you." Then cut off all communication, go offline on each account, got any accounts connected to the alt? Abandon them, never touch them again. If you wish to contact these people still, either react along with them, or say nothing. They send you any evidence, say you can't see anything. They send a photo of the last message of the alts? Find a way to corrupt the photo, and replace the photo in a screenshot, and send it back to them. Isolate them with this problem, make it clear that you don't see anything. They'd obviously send it to other people...probably, and then they could most likely pin you as the mastermind. In that case, quadruple down, act as is this was the first time they EVER spoke about it, they try and bring it up after that, repeat the step above. If they show you screenshots of your previous mentions of the alts, edit the image, make it seem like they sent those messages. Keep that up, never backdown. You aren't friends with these people anymore, slowly begin to not remember conversations at a far more rapid rate. End goal is to get put in a GC with a few of them. During this time, you need to develop a bot, or something, have it run your old discord account. Write down a bunch of your standard "what's up?" Messages. Once in the GC, turn it on, and Abandon that discord account too. Have the bot send the hello messages at random intervals, make it seem like you've been driven mad. Is this fucked up? Very. Are you ruining multiple relationships and making some people's lives worse? Of course. Did you just pull off one of the most Mastery crafted bits of cosmic horror in the internet age? You're goddamn right.

This was about this vid btw

[ramblesnrants-nichedmedition]

Campaign Ramblings

working on a homebrew campaign for PF2E remaster. Cannot talk about it with friends and spouse bc they're the players. So I am currently bursting at the seams with the need to vomit rainbows and dump spoilers all over the place. So, if you want to read the ramblings of a madwoman, enjoy below the cut.

This is a sandbox world, the campaign taking place on the continent of Suldis. The players were happily going about their daily lives in their hometowns until a flash of violet light blinded them when the sun struck its zenith (it hit noon). They awoke, seemingly having lost zero time, in an unfamiliar clearing, where a druid was staring at them in alarm. All of them confused, they followed the druid into the local logging town, where they were greeted by the mayor who asked them to help solve a few mysteries while he asked around and consulted with the spiritual leaders to see if they had any explanation for what had happened. One of the tasks was to investigate some missing townsfolk. There are four reported as missing so far and they've spoken to a few family members and coworkers of the missing before following the map to a hidden cache from one of the people who were missing. They were attacked by two large spiders and almost wiped the floor with them. Party managed to survive and continued to follow the map to the cache, which had been dug up and emptied, and there were drag marks away from the area. following the drag marks, the party came across an old and crumbling tower deep in the forest. They explored the tower and found the spirit of the owner haunting the top floor and he advised the party that the creature responsible for the disappearances was a) too strong for them to defeat at the current moment, and b) his apprentice who was being magically enhanced by one of his creations. Party made the tactical decision to return to town and work on a few other things that were going wrong. The help wanted board advised of the northern farmlands suffering from a blight, and so they headed north. They encountered diseased animals and farmers and got the shit scared out of them by a creepy, empty farmhouse. Then they found their way to the cave that was housing the Blightheart that was polluting the water supply and guarded by the drider's right hand man. After killing him, they made their way back to town, and we haven't played for the last THREE WEEKS. Their next stop is to fight a river monster, who was hatched and placed in the river to destroy shipping methods and kill off the fishermen who bring variety to the town for food by the drider. Upon this creature's remains, they will find a partially digested mermaid statue that will allude to a point further on in the campaign. The main story of this campaign involves a titan god being imprisoned in the space between the planes - and the keys to freeing the titan god are hidden around the continent. The first item the players are going to find is the keystone to the prison - a crystalline lens held by the drider that was crafted from the eye of the titan god so the guardians of the keys could keep an eye on her. She has turned that ability back on them and has been using it to spy on those who hold the lens. A lens which was stolen by the elven sorcerer from the Veilkeepers - the guardians of the keys to the prison. The elven sorcerer was the leader of a rebellious group and caused the keepers to spread the keys around to keep them safe. The rebellious group scattered to the winds to search for these keys; shards of the seven planes of existence, and adopted the name "Blood in the Shadows." These keys/shards can be used to bolster the power of the player, but at a cost. eventually, the cost could be the player's life. Tune in next time to find out what sorts of shenanigans the pcs get up to, and more lore dumping.

[fastcardotmp3]

🎊 december bookshelf 🎊

november recs | recs tag

Happy (almost) New Year! Here are some bits of brilliance I'm closing out the year in reading, and here's to everything that you guys have made this year. I'm so grateful to exist in a space with so much talent and so many big hearts willing to share in it, and I can't wait to read what you have cooked up for 2024 🥂 love, dot

🎊 INCENDIUM by @stargazersteddie- I have always been and will always be a weird dragon kid at heart and this fic was tailor made for the weird dragon kids of the world LIKE! dragon shapeshifter eddie is SUCH a concept and then to add dragon hunter steve to the mix? to add a genuinely intriguing corrupted corporation claiming to help people? to add ronance espionage and secrets in the woods and-? you know? a treat of a journey really and truly.

🎊 captain's log webcomic by @rogue-alien - That sweet spot where beautiful, perfectly representative art meets a brilliant premise in which Dustin finds a bunch of old "Captain's Log" tapes Eddie recorded before he died and things develop from there. Truly makes my day every time I see this has updated with a new page and as a comic book lover I'm fully enamored with everything about this

🎊 if you wanted, you could do no harm by @eskawrites - I'm a lover of a road trip story in which everything becomes clear because the scenery has changed and this is SUCH a beautiful depiction of that. getting to live inside Nancy's head as she goes from knowing she has to get out of Hawkins but not necessarily why to finding this sense of peace within herself and the things she both can control (kissing the girl who made sure she wasn't alone for the journey) and can't control (the big unknowable that is life) was a delight and a joy <3

🎊 mark it on the starmap with an x by @cheatghost - the Eddie POV "show me the place (where he inserted the blade)" sequel/ companion piece of my DREAMS. I love an Eddie character study with my whole heart and the way lou explores him in this particular circumstance, being blocked off from the joy he built for himself and leaning on Wayne and almost being forced into adapting without getting a say in the matter? Brilliant, immaculate, perfect, HELP ME.

🎊 max the bloody handed by @hellsfireclub - KAS!MAX!!! Beautiful Lucas POV as things fall into disarray, as his sense of something's wrong gets proven right, and with such a cool and eerie tone the whole way through. also Lucas with a crossbow which you KNOW is everything To Me.

🎊 this time of the year by @gothbat99 - robin HEARS nancy even when nancy isn't saying anything aloud and robin KNOWS that nancy needs a moment to let her brain go quiet and just be and I'm beside myself!! sweet and warm and tinged with the inevitable grief of the holiday season what if I cry huh?

🎊 The Future is the Same (but i have to try) by @fragilecapric0rnn - such an intriguing world built in so few words but the thing that has me on the FLOOR is the nancy and steve reckless grieving power duo of it all LIKE. designed for me specifically perhaps??? the characterization, the looming danger of every choice they make, the impulsive nature of it all!!! brilliant!

🎊 crash by @cheatghost (yes, again! sue me!) - i say 'designed for me specifically' a lot but this time it's actually TRUE and let me tell you!!! the psychic damage incurred was IMMENSE!! the nancy character study of all time, the cyclical/non-linear journey through grief and catharsis and hope and acceptance of my dreams, i'm never going to stop thinking about this fic you HAVE to read it, it's imperative To Me okay? okay. okay okay.

PS. don't forget to tip your writer in kudos and comments if you read and enjoy these! it's talking to each other about the works we create that makes this fandom world go round 💖

[ordonianhero]

Stormy adventure

Notes: this was inspired by the weather that those on the West coast are experiencing, bout a million customers are without power after a major storm swept through yesterday. This what I came up with. (I am one of those millions sitting in the dark without heat.)

Genre: comfort fluff

Just as the storm picked up they had found a traveler’s cabin. Just what they need. As they all piled in and closed the door. One flash of lighting, followed by a sudden pouring of rain. Boots were left at the door, along with any wet items. The cabin was two story, there was a loft where, perfect for bedding. Down stairs there was a small kitchen to work with, a desk, table and chairs, a place to have a fare going, and stew and tea can be made over. Perfect. The Heroes each took on something to do. Setting up lanterns to be lit as the rain and dark clouds, darkened everything. Rancher and Wild got a fire going to heat up the space.

Sky, smithy and Wild worked on getting a stew going. Warriors, sky and legend grabbed up as much bedding as they could and set that up. Time and Twilight Brought in more wood. Wind and Hyrule got lanterns going. Among there setting up Wind found some playing cards left behind. Everything was set up for them to Hunker down till the storm passed. The room was starting to feel so much more warmer with the lanterns and fire giving off a warm glow. Twilight walked around, making sure the door was latched good along with window. He peeked out side and watched as a few trees in the area whip about.

“Well this storm going to be hitting hard. The way the wind is nearly bout to snap the trees. I say tonight going to be a rough one.” Voiced the Rancher as he sifted away from the windows. Hail now starting to pound the roof.

Everyone seemed to look up at the roof. As if the hail was about the cave it in. Legend and Sky sort of stiff in a bit. The young sailor was all excited at one point, till the first gust of wind. Then his excitement turned to him huddling close to the Captain. The Rancher chuckled, taking a seat beside Sky and taking his job of cutting ingredients. Sky, startled, looked at the Rancher, who gave him a soft smile. Legend had taken to find a corner of the house and taking his blanket, tried to make himself a comfortable place to be.

Time had taken to writing a few letters off to important people. However, even Rancher could see the Old man was not doing well by the sound of the gust of wind and now pounding rain. Nobody likes storms, some of them have their own personal trauma with some form of storm. Some more clear than others. Thankfully Wild just found them annoying. The storm reminded him of the snow storm that hit the Rito village in his era. He was working on one hearty meat stew and one hearty vegetable stew for the non meat eaters of the chain, which was a few. Four manage to heat up some tea and hand it out to everyone. Which Time was grateful for.

Warriors had flopped in on of the pouch chairs, as Sailor, trying to be brave, couldn’t hold it anymore, and came rushing to him. As a gust of 52mph wind shook the window. Bit off the cold seeping through and whistling through the cracks. The rushing wind howled on. The rain un forgiving.

“Think the wind could blow this place down?” He asked curiously. The captain chuckled, “well let’s hope not. Some of us have important things we got to finish.”

“Some, i think should be a flag in this weather waving for the Gods to stop beating us down.” Snarked legend from his corner.

“Oh c’mon Leg, lighten a little.” Hyrule stated, going over to him. Seeing he needed some form of comfort.

“I will, once this storm gives way.”

“Who knows when that will be, whispered Four.

—————

When dinner was done, another log placed on the fire to keep it going. The storm still raging as ever. Dishes were left when light would arrive in the morning. Far too dark now to worry bout. Though it was early, They all made way to just to bed. Blankets piled on. Everyone created a massive cuddle pile. Mainly for warmth and Comfort to those struggling through the storm. For some, they feel asleep quickly. For other’s it felt like counting the hours. Till finally sleep has taken over them too. Rancher was buried in to Time, who was more than happy to take his company. Wild, Legend and Hyrule all together. Wind, sky and Warriors were all cuddled together. And Four took to curling up on Time’s other side. Buried under the blanket. It took Rancher to settle a bit, till Time started humming one of Malon’s tunes. Knowing it was soothing Time’s own anxieties.

The room, got colder as the roar of the wind rush on. However, the chain, were all snuggled warmly. Thought it all.

*12am.*

“Captain.”

A moan followed, “hm”

“I have to pee.”

A sigh, “Can’t you go alone?”

“I’m scared.”

Silence.

“Cap-“

“This better not be you having to take a little whizz sailor, cause I am loosing sleep over you having to go pee.”

“Thank you.”

“Hm.”

-fin.

[maksplaygroundsims2]

Linux/Fedora and Sims 2....

SO, as I had mentioned before, I had planned to put linux on an old potato laptop I had laying around that doesn't get used. My bestfriend came over about a week or so ago and helped me with putting Ubuntu, Lutris and wine on the laptop. I was super stoked to get started playing the Sims 2 without pink or crashing.. I folllowed Osab's installation guide for linux off of github and when I finished, I launched the game and....nothing. I tried a few different things with no luck so I cried to my bestfriend about it and he got me to get teamviewer and did some stuff in the terminal and read the logs for the game to see what was going on. Turns out there was a missing dll file and then that lead to finding out that there was a conflict with Wine and Lutris.. he had to go so he kinda told me what to do, i asked in some of the sims discord servers if anyone had experience with playing sims on linux, someone responded and helped me a bit.. she was super nice and said if i had any questions, to ask her which I completely appreciate. I got to thinking, maybe I should just bite the bullet and install fedora 41 onto an ssd I have in my computer that I don't generally use that much except for storing some editing stuff that I was doing for a youtuber friend.. I cleared it out, followed a video tutorial on how to do it. When I tried to boot Fedora onto my ssd to test it out(not install it) an error came up and it wouldn't load.. I didn't want to fuck with it incase I did something to screw with my Windows stuff so I left it. I told my bestfriend about it the next day and he said to do something about the usb and I told him I was done messing around with it because it was giving me anxiety and I literally just want to play my game. SO, this morning I called a PC place and asked if they were able to do Linux installs as a partition and they said they could but they don't install programs or anything like that, which is fine with me cause I know how to install the other two programs that I need... he said that he will do it and will teach me how to unplug my main ssd that has windows on it so no corruption ensues, I'm sure it may be a little overkill but if it protects all my stuff on my windows drive, I'll do it, lol. I take it on Friday morning and hopefully will get it back by the afternoon. it's going to cost me like 85$ or so to do it but I rather a professional handle it and not have to worry about screwing it up. SO hopefully I'll have Sims 2 running on my pc by next week and I couldn't be more excited. Here's to hoping I can finally play, I'm getting desperate LOL.

[specialagentlokitty]

Thomas Barrow x teen!reader - a promise broken

Part 12:

They went to the burned down house, and there was no sign of you, no sign of anyone having been there for a long while.

A few people stayed in the nearby village for a few days and constantly checked up on the house, but there was nothing.

But not even a week later, the papers announced that Peter had in fact been found, and he had been arrested and was pending a trail.

But there was still no news of you.

“Has he answered any questions?” Mr Carson asked.

“Aside from not knowing there whereabouts of (Y/N), he admitted to everything just like Rodes had.” Lord Grantham replied.

“Surely she must still be out there then?” Lady Mary asked.

“The police are searching, but so far they have yet to find a single trace of her. And with.. well with what she can do, that may be hard.” Lord Grantham sighed.

Everybody nodded, and Thomas glanced down at the floor as he stood by the table holding the tea.

He wanted to keep believing that you were okay, and that you would come back, but nobody knew if you were okay.

But as time went on, and the trial continued and the days slipped by it was getting harder and harder for everybody to hold on to hope.

Things were changing, and the one constant thing was your room and your presents in the corner, they never touched a single thing belonging to you.

But eventually they had to clear everything to make room for someone else, and Thomas stood in front of your door with his arms crossed.

“Mr Barrow, you have no reason being in this hallway.” Mr Carson said sternly.

“I refuse to let you throw out her belongings.”

“We need the room.” Mrs Hughes said.

“You are nothing throwing out her belongings, what if she returns?”

Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson shared a little.

“Then give them to me, I will look after them.” Thomas snapped.

“Alright, we will give them to you.” Mrs Hughes said.

“Mrs Hughes!”

She looked at Mr Carson and he went quiet, and with some held they moved all of your things through to Thomas’ room.

He set them on the other side, setting it up as your own little corner.

“He won’t hate me for that will he?” Baxter asked.

“He’ll get over it.”

Mr Carson walked through the men’s hallways and Mrs Hughes sighed, locking the separating door.

“Who stayed in this room?” Baxter asked.

“A young girl, (Y/N). I would recommend not to speak of her to Mr Barrow.”

“I see.”

At dinner that night, she watched her old acquaintance as he walked away after eating, heading outside.

“You’ll grow used to it, he’s waiting.” Anna said.

“For (Y/N)?”

Anna sighed and nodded softly.

“We all are, but no one more desperately than him.” Anna whispered.

“What.. happened to her?”

Everybody went quiet, and Baxter nodded her head, understanding it was not something she should asked about anything, but she was curious.

Thomas sat outside on the logs, looking at the growing leaves around, the early warning signs that spring had arrived.

The season of life.

But it didn’t feel like that, not when he felt so empty and alone.

He missed you by his side, and though he never would admit to anyone who asked him, it was true.

He missed you, and he blamed himself for you not coming back, and he held on to that tiny shred of hope that somewhere out there was you, and that you were making your way back.

Everybody else had returned to their normal lives but him, and he was angry at how they could just go back to normal.

He needed to know you were alive and well, and he hoped you were.

And for the most part, you were alive and well, though you were covered in dirt, dried blood, mud, your dresses was shredded around the bottom of it, and it was covered in mud.

You were alive.

Living deep in some forest away from people, unsure about what to do with yourself.

Padding quietly through the trees, your eyes flicked around as you looked at everything around you, the sun rays coming through the trees and the birds.

And you carried on walking until you came to a road and you stopped at the edge to make sure it was safe, and you began walking across it.

“(Y/N)?”

You walked across the road and turned around, tilting your head a little bit to look at the man who was standing on the other side.

“You don’t live here?” You said confused.

Mr Branson laughed a little bit, shaking his head and he walked over, showing you something in his hands.

“My car hit a large branch and this fell off, no I can’t remember where I left it.”

“I see…”

you looked at the object and then you looked around.

“Wait here…”

You wondered away, and came back not even a minute later, gesturing for him to follow you so he did.

“I must say, I’m relieved to find you’re doing okay.” He said.

“You are?”

“Of course, we’ve all been worried for your safety, and we have been trying everything we could to find you.”

“Oh…”

You took the man back to his car, and you stood next to it as he pulled a bag out from the passenger seat.

“Surely you never thought we had just forgotten you?”

“I hoped you had…”

Mr Branson sat on the ground and he looked up and you, so you sat down as well.

“Why?”

“It would be easier to stay away…”

“You needn’t stay away, we all wish for you to return.”

You stayed quiet, and while he fixed his car, you got up and wondered around the car, curious and looking at it.

Walking around the car, you looked down the road where you had come from then looked at Mr Branson, debating your options.

“Don’t even think about running, not until we’ve talked.”

“Fine..”

You walked back over and sat in the edge of the road, throwing small stones you found across it.

When he finished, he put his bag up and pulled another, holding out a sandwich to you and you looked at.

“Surely you must be hungry.”

“Thank you…”

Taking it, you nibbled at it and looked around.

“Surely you wish to return to Downton?”

“Sometimes I do, then I remember I cannot..”

“Why?”

You sighed a little bit.

“Because I am different, people like me cannot live with people like you.”

“I understand, I used to think the same thing you know. Sometimes I still do, that I don’t belong as part of the house, as part of the family.”

You looked at him in curiosity.

“I never came from a well off family, i was a servant, like you. I never thought I would be accepted by Lord Grantham or the others, but now I am. Though I still sometimes question how truest I am accepted, I know they love me.”

You nodded your head in understanding.

“And everybody at Downton loves you (Y/N), they miss you, and we all wait for your return.”

“I do return…”

“You do?”

You smiled a little bit and nodded your head.

“As an animal, a bird or a mouse. I return, and I stay for a day or two and come back here.”

“Then why do you not stay? If you travel all that way just to see everybody, why not just stay?”

“Because I… I’m scared to return…”

“Then talk to me, and let me see if I can ease your fears.”

You glanced at him, and you sighed, looking around.

“There is a small parking lot nearby…”

He nodded and got in the car and you walked alongside it as he drove slowly, letting you lead the way to the small parking lot.

Mr Branson parked in it, and you both walked over to a small bench and sat down.

“What if they still see me as a monster Mr Branson…?”

“They don’t, they are more curious than anything if I’m to be honest, we all are.”

You stayed quiet and looked down at the table.

“I understand you are scared, but if you will not come back for us, come back for Barrow.”

You looked up.

“I know you’re fond of him, and though he’d never admit it, he’s fond of you as well. He sits outside every evening, rain or snow, waiting for you.”

“He does…?”

“Yes, on his free days he will go back to your friends house and wait there as well. He’s doing everything he can to find you.”

You glanced back down at the table and you frowned to yourself.

“You can try to pretend you don’t worry for him, but I know you do.”

“I do… but I.. I don’t know what to do..”

“Regardless if you come with me or not, I will tell them I saw you.”

“Will you tell them where I am?”

“No, this is much to large of an area for anybody to search safety. But I will still tell them I saw you.”

You nodded your head.

“Just come home.” Mr Branson said gently.

You shook your head and stood up, glancing at him as you gave him a soft smile.

“Give me time…”

“Alright. But at least call or write so we know you’re okay.”

You nodded your head and you watched him leave, and you went back into the forest you had called your home to think everything over.

You had been hurt many times, you were still hurt, and you were still learning to accept now you had to live as you were till you grew old.

And you loved who you were, but it was a hard concept to accept knowing people would see you as dangerous.

What you didn’t know, was that Mr Branson hadn’t told anybody but the family, and made them promise to not tell anybody else for the fear of stirring them all up.

But a few weeks later, Mr Branson received a letter in messy handwriting telling him that you were okay.

You found yourself thinking of Downton a lot after that month, wondering and debating.

And finally Mr Brandon received another letter asking him to go back to that bench as you wished to talk to him once more, so without telling anybody he went.

He took the drive and he sat at the bench waiting and you came padding out as a small fox, and you changed forms, standing opposite him.

You took a small breath, and you looked away.

“I… I think I want to visit…”

“Is that why you asked me here?”

“I suppose I’m worried about just turning up..”

Mr Branson smiled and he nodded his head.

“I will take you back with me in the morning, we’ll find a place to stay, and I will call Lord Grantham and have everybody waiting for you.

“Thank you sir…”

He smiled down at you, and you got into the car this time, heart racing in your chest at the thought of seeing them again after the last time when you had walked away from them all

[tabletofruination]

Expedition Log: Day One at Casseroya Lake

((small ooc note: i unfortunately only have violet for the moment because i am poor and also just have no way of getting scarlet for funsies. so please ignore any inconsistencies in appearance, i tried to make her look canon as possible with what i had <3 thanks in advance!!))

[pt. 1 (you are here), pt. 2]

[initial recording time: 2:59pm]

"Ugh, should I really be recording in this rain? Green's taking a brief nap, yeah, but ugh. If I don't do it now, I'm totally gonna forget..."

Despite the concern on her face, though, she seems more than apt to get her pep up and repositions the camera and makes a cheerful little gesture.

"...Screw it, we'll do it live! Hi everyone, it's Juli!"

Juliana talks easily, despite what seems to be a small rasp in her throat--one could likely excuse it at maybe a bit of sickness taking her, but still being able to speak on despite it. It at least shows the girl is determined, if little else, as she gestures with her hand out to the area.

"Green's taking a little nap while I go exploring outside a bit! Never really been fond of the rain, that one. But I'm over by the watchtower of Casseroya Lake, and the view is just plain stunning! Here, get a good look!"

Juliana seems to reposition the camera, the view going outward as one can hear the girl's energetic steps as she focuses on a few different views from the lake.

"Ehe! The sky's so clear, but it's still raining Fidough and Glameow--but look at that pretty sunlight! Isn't it just gorgeous?"

Juliana's laughter, her vibrance and enthusiasm, it's all very clear in how she animatedly talks about her surroundings--about some of the Pokemon she's seen so far, about how Darling has been able to go for a nice swim and enjoy herself while Guidance keeps a watch--it's a tangent that gets Juliana to laugh a bit, before she seemingly stops herself short.

"--But right, right! This is, uh, supposed to be about my notes for the expedition, right? Right. I'll see if I can edit this out once I do my presentation, but...I don't know, it always makes me super happy to be able to talk about my Pokemon, you know?"

One can hear shuffling as the camera view shifts down a little bit, as if Juliana is taking a seat upon the rainsoaked ground a bit.

"But let's get started with our observations! And, oh, a little bit of history about this place. That's important too, right?"

"So! This place is Casseroya Lake, basically a beautiful haven for water Pokemon to thrive, and home to at least a few of Paldea's great wonders! On one side, you've got the Colonnade Hollow--a place where Dragon and Fighting types tend to come and raise their young before moving to other places, and a pretty common place to find Noibat, if you're looking for them! The dark cave kinda tends to evoke their old home in...Kalos, right? I think that's where they're from originally, at least."

"Then you've got the Gracia Stones, which are probably some of the nicest rock formations you'll find off of the coast of Paldea! I admit, their history isn't something I've learned about yet, but if I had to make a guess...it must've been the den of a great Water type Pokemon, waaay long ago!"

"And then there's Casseroya Falls! It's the connecting point between Glaseado Mountain--" Juliana turns her camera back towards the lake, angling it so a faint view of the mountain can be seen. "--And the lake itself! Water melting down from the mountain comes and graces the lake, welling in it, and connecting all life within it...heehee! Isn't that super cool? It just means that each and every one of us, we're all connected in some way or another--from the water that comes down the mountain, from the lake, and into the faucets of our homes, we are connected in all things. Or...something like that!"

Juliana seems to giggle a bit, brightly as she focuses the shot on the lake again and seems to sigh as the rain continues. If she minds, it doesn't seem obvious in her (admittedly still a little raspy) voice.

"If you can believe it, there used to be a giant, Titanic Pokemon that roamed these parts. The Elusive, False Dragon Titan...which in truth, was actually two Pokemon working in tandem with one another!"

"You see, about a year and a half ago, I was helping a friend of mine with his own research, see--his name's Arven, he makes the best food you could ever ask for! No joke, I'm pretty sure this guy could put any and all of Paldea's sandwich shops out of business if he opened one up. But I shouldn't get carried away! But we wound up finding and fighting this Titan, see? And at first, it was this big, huge Dondozo that had seemed to eat a Tatsugiri! And like, what on earth, right?! Poor little guy was just living his life."

"But you see--the Tatsugiri, it was actually like, waaay smarter than it looked. It was actually controlling the Dondozo from inside of it's mouth, and it wound up fighting us too after we managed to defeat it's big shield! It was the weirdest thing ever! But we managed to find this really special herb in a cave, and--"

"Juliana. Are you going to sit here and talk all day?"

"--Eep!"

Juliana's phone seems to immediately drop into the wet grass as she startles, but it's...strange, almost. The voice in question that speaks up--it's decidedly older in nature, though it's gender isn't exactly easy to determine. But more odd is the seeming...closeness of the voice. And it's qualities, too--it doesn't exactly feel like a voice that has suddenly come up beside someone, startling them while they're talking.

It seems to almost...reverb, in a way that one can't quite place their finger on. It feels there, yet not. Human, but with just enough weirdness to make one question it. It's strange, but the camera's gone dark as Juliana dropped it, and she seems to chuckle no worse for wear.

"Green, come on! You can't go scaring a girl like that when she's in the middle of a story!"

"I am well aware. I simply think there are better uses of your time than simply nattering into a camera about ancient history; writing is a far better medium for such things, no?"

"I mean, I guess..." Juliana seems slightly dejected, though she seems to laugh afterward. "But you lose all of the enthusiasm with writing, you know?"

"Mmm. I do suppose that is a fair point; I acquiesce." Green seems to chuckle, the sound very light and with a quality that seems mature in nature. Like a good hearted, gentle chuckle. "But we should begin our journey to the other side of the lake, if we wish to make it by nightfall."

"Yeah?" Juliana can be heard shifting a bit in the wet grass, seeming to ponder that. "Did you or Guidance find something?"

"I can sense something in the distance. I am not...entirely certain of what the energy is, but it feels real. I believe we may be onto something, if my hunch is correct."

"Wait, for real?! Why didn't you say so sooner?!" Juliana seems to jump up, her voice becoming more distant as she gets off the ground. "Come on, lets get going! If we have Buddy ferry us across, we should be able to get there before night time, right?"

...Oddly enough, Green's voice seems a touch more distant too. Odd, given that there seem to have been no other steps heard...? "That is exactly what I was thinking. We should make haste, then. I imagine the rain will let up in due time as well, and as long as Buddy stays on task, we should be able to make it swiftly."

"Let's get going, then! Oh, I just can't wait...!"

"Ah, Miss Juliana--do not forget your phone! You will need that, won't you?"

"Oh, shoot, right! Hang on a second--"

Juliana seems to pick up the Rotomphone again, the camera a touch blurry from the rainsoaked grass it laid in, but no worse for wear otherwise. There's a brief bit of darkness as she seems to wipe down the camera, starting to walk back while cheerfully signing off.

"Alright, that's going to end the first part of this! But I'll keep all of you posted on what we're able to find next! Bye-bye~!"

The camera ends on an odd shot of the ground--one which had been seen earlier, if only from a distance. Very little seems to be different about it from a glance, but...

...

Odd. Were there always those little buds growing on the ground? If you blink you'll miss them, but hm. How strange.

Either way, the video ends off here.

[gatheringrust]

@scion-of-kings

Thin dawn reached over the horizon like watercolor fingers. Rani had been sleeping. It was something she’d gotten quite good at in the past few years. Now that she was finally still enough to manage it, it was as if all those decades where she barely could had caught up to her. The cart rattled on the road; many still of the new lands were still somewhat rough. This mattered little to her, and she pulled the blanket tighter around herself as if that could make the rest of the world more still, too.

Her escort was a Sindar woman who was an attendant now at the Havens but had once been a horse tamer of some skill, which made Ranyasúre occasionally entertained. She could imagine Calarnith (who she personally best described as blond and stiff), gently muttering to wild stallions and brushing their manes. And it seemed Calarnith longed to do as much too; when Ranyasúre was in foul spirits she probably would have taken the horse over her. Horses did not have nightmares that left them weeping in the Black Speech. A horse did not have the capacity to feel humiliated or embarrassed by its need of help.

Ranyasúre was, for the first time, really leaving the makeshift refugee camps and infirmaries near the havens. She’d been fussed over for a long time and there was word of things for her to study. Demonstrating skill was a different story; a few rumors of her talent at identifying the very oldest and most treasured things had passed through, and before she knew what grave mistake she had made, a pale eyed Noldo man who spoke of high ambitions and new homes, had asked her about a tile mosaic he had found, inlaid into stone, that seemed quite old and quite rare. No other eye would do, he’d said, even as Rani had to gently explain to him that her state might be prohibitive of good work on her part. He’d insisted— and it was good, she admitted, to be seen as herself again.

The cart lurched to a stop and Calarnith slid off the back bench of the wagon easily. “It’s about half an hour for most,” she said to Rani. “Are you sure?”

“As much as I’d ever be,” Rani said, sitting up and helping Calarnith put the brace upon her leg. Then came the crutches— Rani found them cumbersome and painful to her arms and ribs, but to go without them, she needed both legs to work, and right now, one was still excruciating and the other emaciated.

It was a long walk, with many stops to sit on rocks or logs or rubble from an age now past. Two hours, it took, in the end, and she could still see the ribbon of the dirt road over the crest of the hill. The architect or designer or perhaps simply historian— she hadn’t quite placed what he was— had set up a camp, and with Calarnith at her side, she slowly made her way towards it. One of the workers directed her and Calarnith to the mosaic, and promised he’d be back with a chair, and soon enough, the fellow who had begged her to come manifested.

“A lot of very important people are going to be coming to inspect the site,” said the man nervously, “and soon if you get my meaning. I would hate to tear out something really valuable, I do so admire art and good craftsmanship— but to make places livable sometimes changes must be made— rubble cleared and new things built. I’d like to keep the mosaic but I do want to know if it’s even worth it.”

Rani sat on the stool, stiff, thirsty, and exhausted, but fortunately finding this new distraction took her mind off of it with great ease. “It’s certainly from the Years of the Trees. Probably Teleri in design. You can tell by the use of that green pigment there. Calarnith— hand me that chipped piece—“ Rani held out her palm and Calarnith frowned, but did it anyway. “I have a hunch this is Viridian— really a pigment only produced in certain sorts of seaside rocks. Those great black cliffs which made such lovely harbors, are also, occasionally, rich in minerals that produce this color. That’s a lot of effort to make, but it’ll be even more to restore, since you don’t want to wash the color away. It would certainly be worth it,” she said, pausing. “But you’ll need someone who knows their way around ceramics restoration.”

That was as good as volunteering.

“Would you— oh, are you sure you would?”

“I have come all this way,” she said with a sigh. “It would be a waste to see another person ruin it.”

Within the week, word came— indeed, the project had attracted some attention. Typically when important people (who Ranyasúre never spoke to), came to inspect it, she hung back, or took it as a day where she might rest. Most of the finer work was hers, but she did rely on the group clearing the remainder of the rubble, for their strength of the body. Yet one day, about four weeks into the project, she was asked to personally come and answer questions about it. Her heart sunk; she knew how she was thought of. She had wanted very much to avoid that.

Bowing her head, she stood before the guest, aware only nebulously that he was some sort of nobility. The engineer, as she’d discovered the man was, had hurriedly murmured something to the other man about her being different, but a sharp mind, and the one behind the mosaic restoration— and some mutter of her name.

“I’m at your service,” Ranyasúre said, then glancing up at the dark haired elven man. A glimpse of nobility was in his fair face, but to her eyes, he also looked young— and quite striking.