#anyway ty friend! <3

[aurore-parle-de-ses-idees]

have you done Thoughts on Corudan?

corudan my guy :D he has little chill even though he pretends he does <3

one aspect about them i love: he has some much-needed humor in rohan, esp when nona and horn are busy having mild-to-severe crises about everything else (and honestly so is the pc probably)

one aspect i wish more people understood about them: he is not actually chill <3 he seems it sometimes, esp by comparison to horn & nona, and all the rangers you just left, but he was absolutely about to throw down with that kid over his bow lmao. see also: 'my sister wouldn't let this guard stop her from crossing the river :) not that i'm suggesting we should emulate her :)' he's also- his job was just like. get you down the river. he follows you all the way to helm's deep. no chill for him either <3

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character: actually puts a good bit of effort into being The Chill One in mini-fellowship (see aforementioned crises). is probably just vibing in fangorn right now, honestly hopefully

one character i love seeing them interact with: every interaction with rohirrim being weird about elves is hilarious. 'i bet i could just make a scary face at them and they'd give my bow back' and 'no one will spar with me :(' are some favorites

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more: his! sister! lotro let us see siblings interacting with each other more

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character: it's less a hc than canon for est-verse, but vibes with my hunter. he's actually done quite a lot of taking her across the river to mirkwood. they're not like. besties, but he'll show up to pester daedin sometimes and she just sits there like :/ the whole time (but never sends him away or anything either)

[elkkiel]

how about IV rolling from side to side (he wants his tummy scratched) <3

he's got the world's softest most fluffiest tummy and he'll make sure everyone gets to pet it!!

art reqs info post 🩷

bonus stills that I liked + little kitty face closeup under the cut :3

[pup-pee]

SO I MIGHTVE GOTTEN A BIT INSPIRED BY THIS POST

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: [ 🛁 ] - running them a bath, Shadowzel.

-----

“She is in pain,” Lae’zel says, pacing back and forth before the bar on the Elfsong’s bottom floor. The ale Karlach purchased for her sits undrunk on the wood bartop; she seems to have forgotten its existence. “And it is a pain I do not know how to soothe,” she growls. “It is maddening.”

“Yeah,” Karlach says, watching Lae’zel’s quick, restless movements with an air of sympathy. “Fucking sucks, when someone you care about is hurting. And this kind of hurt… whoof.” She breathes out, rattling her lips heavily. “I lost my parents, back before the Hells, but at least they went… normally, y’know? Bad fever, overturned cart. Things like that happen to people. This, what she had to do… that’s a whole different ball game…”

“This is not helping,” Lae’zel says curtly.

“I’m commiserating,” Karlach says with a slight shrug. “I don’t really have an answer for you. ‘s not the sort of thing you fix.”

Lae’zel comes to an abrupt halt and turns to face Karlach directly. “There must be something,” she says. “I--” She breaks off abruptly and scowls down at the battered slats of the floor. “You know of these things,” she mutters. “I do not. I must have your help.”

“These things?” Karlach cocks her head slowly to one side.

A pause. Lae’zel flushes, her jaw working with frustration at the struggle to articulate her own feelings. “Romance,” she finally says carefully. Another pause, then suddenly rapid, “No. Not romance. Something more. The gentleness that comes with it. I feel the need for it, but do not know…” She falters, her ears flushing a deep olive. “I do not know what to do.”

“Oh.” Karlach would be tempted to smile, were it not for the fact that Lae’zel looks so terribly agitated. “Well, I’ll let you in on the first secret I know,” she says, “which is that we’re all making this the fuck up as we go along. I certainly am.” She nudges the barstool next to her with her boot toe. “C'mon, sit down."

Lae'zel sits abruptly, a soldier obeying orders. Karlach studies her for a moment thoughtfully. "Y'know," she says slowly after a little while, "sometimes when my engine's real bad, Hec'll just... do things for me. Just so I don't have to. Get my dinner served up, or clean out my armor, that sort of thing. And it helps." She rubs at her jaw. "I think, with this sort of shit... it's not about fixing. Not really. It's about... just being there, and holding some of the weight. Helping her keep living, while she sorts it all out."

Lae'zel considers this with narrowed eyes. "Yes," she says slowly.

Karlach's teeth flash in a cautious grin. "We've got a proper bathroom in our rooms upstairs now. You could draw her a bath, bring her dinner after... give her a night not having to think about anything."

Lae'zel nods. "Yes," she repeats. Her whole body is stock-still except for her fingertips which fidget almost imperceptibly against the floral-carved edge of the bar. 

Karlach's smile softens. "The way Hec tells it - it'll make you feel better too," she says gently. "Maybe feel a little less like your head's eating itself alive." She claps Lae'zel on the shoulder. "Look. We're gonna make this happen," she says. "And I'll help. She likes night orchids, right? I'm gonna go right now over to Bonecloaks and shake that woman down for every blossom she's got, and then Jaheira and me'll take the boys off on an adventure for a while. Leave the rooms upstairs all yours till, say, ten o'clock?"

She doesn't expect thanks - the whole crew, by now, is well aware that Lae'zel doesn't tend to say it out loud. What she does get, though, is a sudden tight grip on her forearm from the gith's long-fingered hand; a gesture of camaraderie - or perhaps the clinging of a drowning woman to a driftwood life raft. "That is... generous," Lae'zel mutters.

"Just doing my part to make love bloom," Karlach says airily.

Lae’zel flinches, her color deepening again. “We have not spoken of love,” she says stiffly.

Karlach lifts her eyebrows innocently. “Oh, are we not saying that part out loud yet?” she asks.

“Kainyank…” Lae’zel grumbles, rolling her eyes - but Karlach notices she doesn’t argue the point.

-----

Shadowheart sits on the bed, leaning against the window, her knees drawn to her chest. She’s dimly aware that the others haven’t come back from dinner yet, but it’s hard to muster the energy to care. Ever since the House of Grief, she’s felt drained, empty, surrounded by the shattered pieces of a world she doesn’t know how to reconstruct yet. She feels broken.

There’s the soft sound of a footstep up the stairs. Rustling movement in the center of the shared floor of their lodgings. The sound of running water from the magical taps in the bathroom. Shadowheart ignores it all, focusing her eyes on the progress of a fly climbing up the outside of the window glass. 

Then-- “Shadowheart?”

Something in her heart loosens just a little, hearing Lae’zel’s voice. It’s astonishing, given how they began, the way that Lae’zel has come to mean protection, and understanding, and calm. Lae’zel is safety in a way that none of the others are, because Lae’zel too has had her life taken apart, and the two of them have built a new one out of the ashes. “Yes,” she says softly, forcing herself to stir and lift her head. “I’m here.”

To her surprise, she finds that Lae’zel is standing watching her with a bundle of deep blue flowers in one hand. The gith shifts awkwardly and then sets the plants down on the nearby table. “I--” she says haltingly. A pause, and then she presses on doggedly as if expecting a burst of laughter from some corner at any moment. “All day you have sat here alone. I have drawn you a bath. Will you come?”

“A bath?” Shadowheart tips her head, mildly bemused.

“Yes.” Lae’zel shifts her weight slowly from one foot to the other. Then she adds, almost sheepishly, “Karlach said it would help.” A pause, then so low Shadowheart almost can’t hear it, “Let me help. Please.”

A sudden tight lump settles in Shadowheart’s throat, making it hard to speak. “Lae’zel--”

“I said I would protect you,” Lae’zel mutters. “But there is no enemy to strike. There is only this. These small things. It is not much, but…” 

“No.” Shadowheart slowly uncurls herself from the tight ball in which she has spent the last few hours. The barest hint of a smile pulls at her lips for the first time in days. It’s not about the bath, not really - she didn’t need or even really want one. It’s the reminder that there is more around her than the impenetrable shadow Shar has draped over her world. That Lae’zel is driving it back with both fists, even when she doesn’t think she knows how.

“No,” she repeats softly. “That sounds perfect.”

[shiveringsoldier]

Lawrence of Arabia (1962) dir. David Lean

[xxswagcorexx]

haven't posted this anywhere publically yet BUT I MADE A TECHNO STATUE IN CERAMICS CLASS!!!

happy birthday king <3

[zzypher]

A Comprehensive Analysis of "NoseGate" - An Essay by Ivy Lynnwood

Workplace harassment - it is just one of the many rampant, yet little discussed issues that plague the American workplace. According to the article, "Workplace Harassment Statistics in 2023," "20% of American workers have been victims of workplace bullying (up from 14% in 2022)." Workplace harassment can come in a variety of forms including, "...verbal abuse, offensive conduct or behaviors, work sabotage, undermining work performance, and inappropriate use of power or authority (Setyan, 2023)." With workplace harassment being such a taboo topic, one would typically be hard-pressed to find examples of it in media... that is until stumbling upon the 2022 Adult Swim animated comedy, Smiling Friends. Season Two's eighth episode, "The Magical Red Jewel AKA Tyler Gets Fired," is a masterful depiction of workplace harassment, and it's various effects. Within the episode, protagonists Charlie Dompler and Allan Red hash out a past incident that had been haunting Charlie for a number of months. The following essay is not for the purpose of stating who is in the wrong, but rather to lay out what canonically happened in order for the reader to come to their own conclusions.

Where it All Began

In Season Two's episode, "The Magical Red Jewel AKA Tyler Gets Fired," Allan and Charlie are tasked with the important job of babysitting Mr. Boss' 18 year old son, Jason. Later on, while watching Jason in Mr. Boss' office, Allan remarks, "You know, it's weird we don't really hang out one-on-one much, do we?" to which Charlie replies, "Yeah, yeah, it's definitely been awhile uhm... I don't know if you remember this or not, but the last time we hung out, like, you and I, you actually sucked on my nose, so..." Charlie's statement references a scene from the series' pilot episode, "Desmond's Big Day Out," in which Allan does, in fact, suck on Charlie's nose. However, is Charlie's framing of the incident truly accurate to what happened? A full analysis of the scene is needed in order to fully understand each character's actions and motivations.

The above image is from a scene from the ending of, "Desmond's Big Day Out." This takes place after Allan remarks, "Yes, and I got my cheese back...nom," to which Charlie replies, "Aw, come here Allan, you crazy character," after pulling Allan into a friendly embrace and tracing his hand with his finger.

Allan then proceeds to commit the very act that has haunted Charlie throughout Season One and Most of Season Two: nose sucking.

Afterwards, Charlie can be seen pushing Allan away. The two then laugh together.

Allan then tries to suck on Charlie's nose a second time, to which Charlie backs away.

Charlie and Allan laugh it off a second time. Then Allan exclaims, "Nom," again, however this time, he does not try to lean in and suck Charlie's nose. It can be inferred that Allan had learned by that point that his actions were making Charlie uncomfortable, which is why he chose to stop.

It is important to note that Charlie was the one who placed his hands on the other first. We do not know if whether or not Allan was uncomfortable with Charlie touching him, as he does not say anything or make any gestures that can be interpreted as discomfort. Regardless, this could already be counted as misconduct, as it can be argued that he should not have touched Allan to begin with, especially within their workplace. Allan's act of sucking Charlie's nose in response will come off as confusing to most audiences. It could be seen as a form of Allan playfully reciprocating Charlie's initial gesture, as Allan is often depicted as an individual with many quirks. However, it is also important to consider that we do not know the full extent of critter culture and social customs. While Allan's nose sucking can be seen as friendly and playful, it could very well have been Allan expressing his distaste towards Charlie's actions, or some other unknown emotion. Overall, Allan's true intentions behind sucking Charlie's nose are unknown, however it is obvious that Charlie was uncomfortable with that, but this should not disqualify the fact that Charlie touched Allan first.

Present Day

Nearly two entire seasons later in, "The Magical Red Jewel AKA Tyler Gets Fired," the aforementioned event of Allan sucking Charlie's nose is brought up again. Charlie claims that it was necessary to, "...hash it out..." so they, "...can hang out more..."

Allan, upon being confronted by Charlie for his actions, replies in a shocked tone, "What? I don't remember doing that." Whether or not Allan was telling the truth in this statement is unknown, however, evidence suggests that this may very well be the truth. In "Desmond's Big Day Out," before the encounter between the two, Allan was attacked and crucified by an army of bliblies, which had infested the Smiling Friends office.

According to an article by Harbor Psychiatry and Mental Health, "Traumatic experiences can have a profound effect on memory function, often leading to memory loss as a coping mechanism...This impairment can stem from physical or emotional trauma, with memory loss serving as the brain's way of processing and managing the experience (Harbor Mental Health, 2023)." The physical and emotional damage that Allan suffered from that day was certainly enough to result in memory loss, especially in terms of a short-lived interaction that took place not too long after the main event. For Charlie, that day was rather normal, considering that he mainly spent his day out of the office doing his job, so he is much more likely to remember such an interaction.

Despite Allan's lack of memory of the initial interaction, he is clearly distraught by what he had done in the past.

It is clear in his facial expressions (see above image), body language, and tone of voice that he clearly regrets his actions and the distress that he has caused Charlie. After Charlie explains what had happened, that fateful day, Allan responds with, "Sure, I- I honestly don't remember doing that but- well, yeah, if I did, I'm sorry. I just don't remember doing that but it sounded like it really bothered you." An interesting thing to note is how, during Allan's attempt at an apology, Charlie interrupts him to remark that the incident had happened "recently," however, the event had taken place before both Halloween episodes, suggesting that well over a year had passed in-universe. Whether or not this is a case of Charlie misremembering the incident, or just being so distraught by it that it felt more recent that it truly was is up to interpretation.

So Charlie finally admits his feelings about the incident and Allan gives a decent apology in return. The logical next step would be to just move on and allow time to heal any remaining wounds, right? Unless...

Present Day Part Two: The (Temporary) Death of Jason

During Charlie and Allan's confrontation, Jason suddenly screams, then dies immediately afterwards.

Charlie begins to search Mr. Boss' desk for anything that might help, then momentarily gets distracted by Mr. Boss' manifesto. Allan tries to calm Charlie down and says, "Charlie, there is nothing we can do." Charlie, undeterred, attempts to perform CPR on Jason (in an incorrect fashion). Charlie accepts defeat, and Allan replies, "Yeah, I already told you that."

Later on, Charlie and Allan try to get Glep to pretend to be Jason for the rest of his life in order to avoid the inevitable consequences. Glep eventually becomes fed up with the situation and leaves. Allan says, sarcastically, "Great idea, Charlie," to which Charlie responds, "At least I'm trying to think of stuff, man!"

Allan argues, "Well, maybe if you weren't talking my damn ear off we would have noticed something was wrong with him in the first place!"

Allan's argument begs an important question: would they have even noticed something was wrong with Jason had they not been arguing previously? Mr. Boss states at the beginning of that episode that Jason is "super low maintenance," and that if he were to need something, he would let them know. In the scenes following up to his death, Jason doesn't give any sort of major signal that something was wrong. He simply sat there, as he typically does. Jason dies immediately after screaming, so there was no time for Charlie and Allan to help him. It could be argued that Charlie did technically try to help Jason, however this was after he died. Allan recognized that Jason was dead and did nothing because there is simply nothing that could have been done.

Back to the argument, Charlie exclaims, "Woah, woah, this is not my fault, dude. You were the one that was on the phone the whole time and you were not paying any attention at any point!"

While Allan was on his phone previously, he was technically paying at least some attention to Jason, as he says early on, "Is it supposed to be doing that?" in response to Jason breathing noisily. Charlie responds to this with, "Yeah, that's like his whole shtick." It should be noted that Jason does not make this heavy breathing sound in any of his other appearances, which means that this could very well have been a sign, albeit a very subtle one, that something was wrong. Allan was the one to question this behavior, and Charlie thought nothing of it. It should also be noted that Charlie shifts all of the blame onto Allan, suggesting that Jason died because he wasn't paying any attention. But what was Charlie doing at that time? Wasn't he also not paying attention? Why doesn't he take any responsibility, considering that he agreed to help watch Jason?

Allan goes on to argue, "Fuck you, I was checking work emails, you yellow son of a bitch!" with this insult implying racism. This is not the first time Allan has engaged in such behavior, as is shown in the episode, "A Allan Adventure," in which he calls Armzo, a critter with several arms, "spider." Whether or not Allan truly feels this way about other critters is unknown, as he very well could have just been frustrated. However, one could argue that in these modern times, there really is no good reason to insult someone based on race or appearance, and that Allan's insults were just terribly "low hanging fruit."

Onto the physical portions of the altercation! Allan and Charlie begin arguing back and forth over who killed Jason. Allan is the first to make things physical, by slapping Charlie's hand. Charlie understandingly responds by slapping him back in a similar fashion.

After various kicks and punches from both sides, Allan once again reaches for low hanging fruit and punches Charlie in the nose, a spot that he had previously established as a place he would rather not have touched.

Charlie responds to this by attempting to choke Allan. While Charlie seemingly won the (physical) fight in the end, it can be argued that his win was not a fair one. While Allan did punch Charlie's nose, he did not try to full on kill him. However, it is also unclear if Charlie's true intent was to ultimately choke Allan to death, or to simply give him the illusion that he was going to do so.

The Verdict

Allan and Charlie would ultimately end up confessing that Jason died while in their care, and then embrace each other once he was revived by the magical red jewel. At this point, it is safe to say that they have put aside their differences for the common good of Jason, and perhaps have even made up (though it remains unclear if there was any forgiveness on either side). However, there is a fairly good chance that none of these events would have had to happen had Charlie and Allan been educated on proper workplace conduct. It is truly horrifying how such a small gesture can ultimately progress into such catastrophic, and even fatal, events. The story of Charlie and Allan proves that workplace harassment is no laughing matter, and that we as a society need to improve upon how we conduct ourselves in public environments, as well as work towards establishing rules that can help to keep ourselves and others safe. So next time you find yourself thinking about sucking your coworker's nose, remember Charlie and Allan, and think twice about your potential actions.

Sources:

Setyan Law - Workplace Harassment Statistics in 2023

Harbor Mental Health - Does Trauma Cause Memory Loss?

[skitskatdacat63]

"Non paeniteo potitus."

+ details & process

And, process !!

The jump btwn the second to last and last always surprise me whenever I make one of these because I always forget to take snapshots after I start painting. It's always like: oh yeah heres the lineart with some colors- BOOM fully finished✨️

What he's holding are the Austrian imperial scepter and orb, seen below:

I was going to draw the crown too but decided I don't hate myself that much(maybe some other day), and gave him a golden laurel crown, bcs I'm obsessed with that as a motif, and also its very remincient of the boy king statue that started this whole thing!

There's some symbolism of this, both intentionally but also just historically. I love that the orb represents that the monarch is holding the world in their hand, basically every old monarchy has one of those, and I think it's very cool for symbolism. But also bcs of that, I was forced to basically draw catholic fanart so, you win some you lose some. The star halo above him head is both to reference those religious statues with star crowns(I saw them a lot in Europe and they imprinted onto my brain), as well as: his four championships of course!

[stuffedsand]

innocent voting kazui every day is not enough i need a gun

[pennedinblood]

as of ten minutes ago we are officially Jobless™️. my sign to retire early and devote the remainder of my existence to writing toxic old man yaoi

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[astrxealis]

if i do "?" in text i'm genuinely tilting my head like a dog if i do "!!" my eyes are sparkling and i am figuratively wagging my tail if i am IN ALL CAPS i'm screaming from the top of a mountain with all the power i can with love and the strength of RAGHHH within me

[caimitos]

saw a post about projecting your ethnicity onto a character and started missing vespa ilkay. so so bad

[blackjackkent]

The usual three prompts :)

Karlach - Sunflower

Jaheira - Sweet Pea

Isobel - Dandelion

(Flower prompts meme)

Finally responding to this! I ended up picking both the Karlach and Jaheira ones and combining them into one fic, and also making them both about friendship stuff even though I think the prompt definitely intended romantic. And then it grew legs and became an AO3 one-shot instead of a drabble fill. More bang for your buck. XD Really hope you like!

Sunflower - drunken rambling about their adoration Sweet Pea - a tender moment

-----

We Who Have Faced Gods

Pairing: Karlach & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira, Karlach/Tav Characters: Karlach, Jaheira, OC Male Tav Rating: G Warnings: Drinking Descriptors: Fluff, humor, drunk silliness, cross-generational friendship, mentorship. Chapter Word Count: 3.0k Chapter Setting: On the road to Baldur's Gate, between Act 2 and Act 3.

Summary: A brief interlude of rest for three heroes on the road to Baldur's Gate, in between one battle and the next.

read on ao3 | send me fic requests!

-----

“I can't fuckin’ believe it,” Karlach slurs happily. 

Hector grins. “So you've said - a few times now.” 

He gently pries the bottle of ale out of her hand and takes a sip from it himself before setting it aside next to the tree they’re sitting against. Another bottle, already empty, is nestled there in the grass, damp with condensation in the crisp evening air.

The camp’s much-needed celebration at finally escaping the Shadow-Cursed Lands has also turned out to be an excuse to clear their supply packs of the unreasonable quantity of alcohol they’ve accumulated. Karlach has been doing her part in the drainage effort. Hector himself hasn’t had too much; he is, however, very much enjoying listening to her increasingly exuberant ramblings as the night has gone on and the bottles have slowly trended towards empty.

He stretches, draping his arms loosely around her waist as she settles more comfortably into his lap. “But go on. Tell me again.”

“I’m serious. I can’t believe it,” she says earnestly. Her whole face scrunches up with concentration as she tries to focus her eyes on him. “Jaheira. In our camp. That's her tent right over there!” She points unsteadily in a vague direction. “D'you know how many stories I heard about her as a kid? SO many, Hec. Like…” A pause. “So many.”

He chuckles. “Yeah?” He kisses the tip of her nose, then her lips. “I’d love to hear them.”

“She’s so cool. She can turn into a panther,” Karlach says dreamily. “I saw her do it at Last Light. An’ she cut up those winged horrors like they were nothing .”

“A very impressive show,” he agrees, nodding. 

She considers for a moment, her eyebrows knitting. “Bet I’d make a good panther.”

“I'm sure you would.” Picking up one of her hands, he interlaces their fingers, kissing each of her knuckles in turn. “You've already got the claws for it.”

“I should get Jaheira t’ teach me,” Karlach decides. Her gaze drifts out of focus again. “And then we could be panthers together and slash everyone up. And then you'd run up and punch them too. POW POW.” She thumps her fist lightly into the pit of his stomach. “Like that.”

He slumps dramatically against the tree trunk, clutching at his abdomen. “You got me. A wicked strike indeed.”

“Hrrrrrmm.” She clicks her tongue dismissively and gives her head an exaggerated shake. “C’mon now, Soldier. You fought that weird Myrkul bone motherfucker,” she points out. “You can take a gut hit from me, I bet.”

“No doubt,” he agrees. His eyes narrow teasingly. “Only you've seemed rather fond of some parts down there, and I'd hate for you to damage them accidentally.”

“Oh, shit, you're right.” She bursts into a fit of giggles and slumps against his shoulder. “Gotta be careful.” She kisses his neck, under his jaw, up to his ear, and nips gently at his earlobe. This elicits a soft, involuntary noise of eager satisfaction from him, and she snickers, pleased at the reaction. “Better?” 

“Much.” He runs the tips of his fingers down the back of her neck and feels her shiver pleasantly in return. “I love seeing you so happy, you know.”

This seems to give her some pause. “Happy. Yeah.” She fidgets her fingertips at his jaw, pushing against the grain of his beard with an air of deep absorption.

There's silence for a moment, filled with the noise of the living forest around them - so different from the desolation of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Damp leaves rustle against each other in the slow, warm breeze. Somewhere above them, a hawk screeches a hunting call. 

 “We're gonna kill Gortash, right?” Karlach asks abruptly. 

His lips purse tightly and his smile fades. He remembers the mop-headed bastard in the long coat, standing alongside Ketheric and the Bhaalist in that pit of horrors beneath Moonrise. He remembers the rage in Karlach’s face and how it echoed in his own heart. “Yes,” he answers. “We will.”

She presses her face into his neck. “An’ Jaheira's gonna help us. An’ I can kiss a hot monk any time I want, an’ he promised me nothing bad is ever gonna happen, ever again.”

He blinks, then chuckles, the grim mood easing again. “All true things.”

“Then yeah.” Her voice is muffled and increasingly drowsy, but he can hear the smile in it. “I'm happy.”

He digs his fingers gently into the small of her back to pull her tighter against him. “Good. I am too.” 

It isn’t a lie - he is happy, here at this moment, blanketed in her warmth. But uncertainty lurks very close at hand. They have a plan, a goal - a purpose that will save thousands of lives if they can hold to it. But their enemy is horrifying beyond comprehension, and everyone, even to the daughter of Selune herself, has trusted him to be equal to it.

What if he’s not?

He’s jarred from his thoughts by the soft thump of a footstep, and he looks up to see Jaheira rounding one of the nearby tents. The High Harper also has a bottle of wine in one hand, but her steps are steady and her bearing straight. Only her eyes - softened from their usual sharp glint and peering languorously into the middle distance - betray any sign of inebriation. 

She comes to a halt just shy of tripping over Hector's outstretched legs. Her eyes take a moment to refocus, and she tips her head to one side as she takes in the scene.

“Good evening, Carlisle,” she says with exaggerated gravity, inclining her head at him. 

He tries to straighten up respectfully, although the effect is somewhat marred by Karlach’s weight holding him pinned against the tree trunk. “Good evening, High Harper.” 

Karlach stirs in his arms. “Oh, fuck. Is that Jaheira?” she mumbles, still muffled against him. 

He grins, ruffling her hair gently with his fingers. “Seems so,” he answers.

“Shit.” She makes an uncoordinated (and unsuccessful) effort to lift her head. “Don' tell her I'm drunk…”

Jaheira’s eyes narrow with sudden humor and she crouches at Hector's side. With a deft jerk, she lodges the butt end of the bottle she’s carrying into the dirt next to the others. “Do not worry, Karlach,” she says gravely. “Your secret is quite safe.”

“Good,” Karlach mumbles sleepily. “I want her t’ think I'm cool…” She squirms and grinds her face more firmly into Hector's neck. “And teach me about… panthers…”

Jaheira quirks one eyebrow up and her lips twitch. “I believe she vastly overestimates the number of ‘cool’ people I have traveled with,” she says to Hector, her tone deeply dry. 

Hector grins cautiously. He does not quite have Karlach’s level of hero worship, but it still feels mildly unreal to be sitting here talking with one of the heroes of the Bhaalspawn Crisis, a woman he read of in countless historical texts in the monastery’s library. In person, Jaheira has proved to be remarkably down-to-earth, despite all the lofty tales that speak of her, but Hector’s instinct for deference towards her is hard to shake. “Well, we’re all very pleased you’ve chosen to travel with us,” he tells her earnestly. “And honored.”

“Bah, the honor is mine, Saer Carlisle.” She grins crookedly and raises one shoulder in a half-shrug. “It is an exclusive club, we who have faced down a god and survived. It is so rare that we get new members. I should be thanking you for the company.”

He relaxes a little with a laugh. “I never imagined facing anything like this,” he admits.

Jaheira snorts. She slowly lets herself topple out of her crouched position to sit next to him on the dew-damp ground. “In my experience, a world-ending crisis is not something one plans for. It merely happens, and you are swept along in the rising flood, will you or no.” 

Her eyes flick from his face to Karlach, draped in his arms, and her expression softens slightly. “But you have been equal to it, so far. What we faced in the Shadow-Cursed Lands… not many would have come out of it unscathed.”

Hector drifts his fingertips over Karlach’s back, feeling the slow rise and fall of her chest and the pulses of heat from the infernal engine - and the subtle rough texture of one of the new scars she gained at Moonrise. “Unscathed might be putting it a little strongly,” he murmurs.

“True enough. Let us say… alive,” Jaheira says with a flash of gallows humor. “An accomplishment that should never be taken for granted.” A pause. “I am proud of both of you - of all of you. And proud to face whatever lies ahead at your side.”

Karlach’s head has become heavier on his shoulder and her breathing, against his ear, has settled into a steady rhythm, but at these words, she looks up suddenly. Her eyes are at half-mast and her nose rubs against Hector’s throat. 

“Soldier?” she mumbles.

“Yes, love?”

“Jaheira just say she’s proud of us?”

Hector smiles and presses a kiss against her hairline. “She did.”

She gives him a bleary smile. “I think I’m dreaming,” she murmurs. “But it’s a nice dream, so don’t wake me up, m’kay?”

He rubs his fingers gently at the base of her neck. “You have my word.”

She makes an inarticulate, happy sound and buries her face back into his chest. 

Jaheira chuckles. “Perhaps I am not so sorry as I thought that the bards have made so much of me,” she says lightly. “One could get used to such adoration.” She draws a long inhale through her nose, savoring the scent of the forest around them, and then exhales it in a heavy sigh. “You should get some rest, cub,” she adds gently. “We’ve a long walk in the morning, and many more to follow.”

Hector lifts an eyebrow at her. “I could say the same of you.”

She laughs. It's a sharp, almost barking sound - a trifle bitter, but not without humor. “It has been many, many years since I last slept a full night, Carlisle. I think tonight will be no different. But there may yet be hope for you.”

He shrugs - carefully, trying not to jostle Karlach's head. “Perhaps. But…” He smiles sheepishly. “I need to bring this one along with me, and I don’t think she’s much in the mood to move at present.”

“Mm. I will help you move her, then. You have both earned a better bed than the cold forest ground.” Jaheira glances at the two bottles sitting side by side against the tree trunk, and snorts softly. “She has told me something of her story. I suppose a decade in the Hells must lend one a certain tolerance for the weak drinks of the material plane. All the same, I have seen stronger warriors than her felled by the combination of Balor ale and fireswill. I am impressed that she is still conscious.”

He frowns. “It’s a special occasion,” he says with a shrug. “We all needed to let loose a little, I think.”

She grins. “Oh, do not mistake me - I am not judging. Besides, practically the whole camp is passed out. I was surprised to find anyone else awake at all. Well, besides Dame Aylin,” she corrects herself with a low laugh, glancing over her shoulder. “She keeps a vigil in the moonlight and was quite uninterested in the revelry. Perhaps the daughter of a goddess sees little point in the meager wine that mortals brew.”

Involuntarily, Hector looks up, following Jaheira's gaze to see if he can spot the aasimar in prayer. But wherever it is that Aylin is apparently keeping vigil is out of his sight, masked by the tents or the trees or the gentle, moonlit darkness. “I still can't believe it,” he murmurs, slowly starting to squirm out from beneath Karlach's weight. “My Lady's daughter, here in flesh. She laid a hand on my shoulder and said she would follow me.” He pauses and then smiles ruefully. “It's the only thing that could possibly be more astonishing than you saying the same thing.”

Jaheira looks at him curiously for a moment. Then she catches Karlach by the shoulder and helps to lift her up so that Hector can wriggle sideways onto his knees. “For so many years, you have had faith in Selune,” she points out. “And yet you are surprised to receive it in return, in the hour of crisis?” 

Hector grunts and pushes himself to his feet, hooking Karlach's arm over his shoulder. Between them, they lift her onto her feet; she's definitely almost asleep now and mumbles inarticulately at the motion.

“I don't deserve it,” he says quietly, more to himself than to Jaheira. 

Jaheira smiles faintly, bracing herself to help hold up Karlach's considerable weight. “A thing worth knowing, Carlisle, if you are on a path of which songs will be sung,” she answers, “is that you no longer get to choose what you deserve. Least of all the faith that is put in you.”

Hector doesn't answer directly at first. “Come on, love,” he tells Karlach gently. “Let's get back to the tent.”

“Tired…” Karlach mumbles. 

“I know. I’ve got you…” He drapes one hand around her waist to keep her upright, and they take a few awkward steps forward. On Karlach's other side, Jaheira moves easily, adjusting to the rhythm of their movement to help support her. 

They're almost to Karlach's tent before Hector finally speaks again, and it’s so low Jaheira probably has to strain to hear it. “I don’t want to let you down,” he mutters. “Any of you.”

To his surprise, Jaheira laughs softly. “Hector,” she says, “you still have the bone dust of the god of death on your fists. What right would I have to feel you have failed me?”

He crouches at the flap of the tent, lowering Karlach carefully. “Myrkul was one thing,” he says. “But there is so much that lies ahead. We face an elder brain. And those two other Chosen, the Bhaalist and Gortash…”

Karlach squirms suddenly, her eyes opening halfway. The sudden movement overbalances Hector and he falls sideways, hitting the ground next to the bedroll with a grunt, Karlach half on top of him. “I’ll kill ‘im,” she growls unsteadily, struggling to right herself, one hand planted in the middle of Hector’s chest. “Gortash… that fuckin’...”

“Shhhhh…” Jaheira leans forward and presses her palm gently to Karlach’s shoulder. “Not now. Rest. You are no use to anyone if you do not sleep.” 

Karlach blinks blearily, and then lets the pressure of Jaheira’s hand guide her backwards, until she sprawls out onto the bedroll, her head lolling into the pillow. Her gaze drifts out of focus, and then her eyes fall closed. “‘Kay,” she whispers, the burst of energy fading as quickly as it came. “G’night…”

To Hector’s intense surprise, Jaheira doesn’t draw back immediately. Instead, she settles her weight down on her knees next to the bedroll and simply looks at Karlach in silence for a little while. Then she reaches out and brushes a stray bit of hair off the younger woman’s forehead, with a gentleness Hector has never seen from her before.

“Rest, Karlach,” she murmurs. “There will be many battles to fight in the morning… but none of them call you tonight. Rest and breathe nature's clean air. Let it bring you peace while there is peace to be had.”

Hector listens in silence. It is hard to imagine Jaheira singing a lullaby, and yet there is something of that cadence in her words - and something like a prayer, too, gentle and meditative. As she looks at Karlach's half-sleeping form, her thoughts seem for a moment to be far away. Something of the brittle, sardonic mask has slipped, just for a moment, and he can see age and weariness and regret through the cracks. 

The remaining tension in Karlach's body fades and she sags, her head slumping against Jaheira’s fingers. “Where's Hector?” she mumbles, just barely audible. 

Jaheira smiles. “He is here. I do not think he would leave your side if I tried to drag him away.” She turns, rests a hand gently on Hector's arm for a moment, then draws back and out of the tent, looking back at him sitting in the opened flap. 

“I will not tell you, Carlisle, that all will be well,” she says quietly. “Nor do I think you would believe me if I did. But it is well for tonight. And tomorrow… we will meet what comes. I am not mistaken in you, nor is Aylin; of that you may be certain.”

He feels a sudden tight lump in his throat, and for a moment he can't quite speak. “Thank you,” he finally murmurs. 

“And take care of each other,” she adds gruffly, jerking her head to indicate Karlach. “The road is hard, but to travel with someone you love is a gift. Treasure it.”

“I do,” he answers, following her gaze back to the woman he loves. Karlach is certainly asleep now, facedown on the bedroll. Her shoulders rise and fall in a steady rhythm, lacking the tension and twitching energy of her waking hours. “Every moment.”

She nods slowly, and for a moment seems to look through him, back towards some memory long out of her grasp. “Then you are doing all I can ask of you,” she says softly. 

Suddenly the moment breaks. Her head snaps back and her gaze hoods over with wry humor again. “Now, ye gods, lie down and rest yourself as well, boy. We are free of the shadows at last; I can breathe again and I mean to enjoy it. It would be a poor ending to my night to have to knock you out.” She laughs sharply and gives him a gentle nudge with her boot to push him fully back inside the tent. Then, without waiting for a response, she turns and walks away, disappearing like a shadow back towards the warm dark of the forest.

read on ao3

[frogintheair]

gato-ONE and eddie from the hit game guilty gear crossing

[necrotic-nephilim]

I’m here to bother you again!!!

You don’t have to if you don’t want to but maybe dark ship bingo with timjay or brudick????

hELLO i love being bothered by you this is delightful omg thank you, i would love to

Here is JayTim, I can't believe I only got one bingo for them. Ironically I genuinely don't view Jason and Tim as family, even when I'm not shipping them, I think they're tentative allies at best and you can only brother-ify them if you're doing very generously OOC fluff, a la WFA-style. They're absolutely toxic and codependent on each other's existence, Tim wouldn't exist without Jason and Jason is Undeniably Weird about Tim, but not brothers so I can't check off the familial squares. Also, I have no idea if I've been blocked by 10+ people, but it'd be funny if I am. And funnily enough, I don't think Tim or Jason are vanilla in any capacity even when they're not fucking. Especially not Tim, that boy is Certified Weird.

and ofc BruDick I nearly blacked out the whole board because they absolutely are weird and unwell. Some of these only apply to certain AUs of BruDick (like an idea I have rattling in my skull rn with Talon!Dick) but most of it applies to them all the time. I really need to write some fucked up BruDick, it's tragic I haven't yet. Right now the two fics I'm working on are a weird JayDick and a more fluffy DamiDick, but I have Plans™ for BruDick too. They are the OG and deserve their flowers for being the most toxic mess you've ever seen.