#between Inigo never noticing her

[quicksilverdrabbles]

Shattered (2)

Inigo: Morana?

Morana: *laying in bed with her back facing the door, cane abandoned on the floor*

Styx: *raises her head, growling at the intruder before recognizing Inigo. Lowers her head and snuggles closer to Morana with a whine*

Inigo: *picks up the cane and sets it against the wall* How are you doing, my friend?

Morana: ...

Inigo: Are you okay enough to talk about it? I can go get your notebook if you want.

Morana: *shakes her head, hugging Styx closer to her*

Inigo: No talking? Or no notebook?

Morana: ... No notebook.

Inigo: Okay. *sits at the edge of her bed*

Morana: ...

Inigo: ...

Morana: *sniffles, hiding her face in the pillow* I didn't want to yell at Tally..

Inigo: I know you didn't.

Morana: I just feel like he doesn't- *hic* He doesn't see me as an equal. He always does things for me that are nice, but sometimes it feels like he doesn't l-let me do anything without him..

Ingio: If anything, I would say Taliesin holds you in higher regards than an equal.

Morana: It doesn't feel like it. I'm scared he sees me as a burden.

Inigo: I understand that. You know he doesn't, though..

Morana: *sighs, turning on her back and staring at the ceiling* Why couldn't I just have a regular life..? No plague, no torture, no scars..

Inigo: You did break the mirror for your scars, then?

Morana: ... I was in a worse place when I came to Skyrim. Mentally, I mean. I was angry, and bitter that my life would never be like anyone else. When I found this outpost, and recognized his notes.. Next thing I knew, everything in the lab had been destroyed. Like it was in Morrowind.

Inigo: You were angry. Anyone could understand that.

Morana: I couldn't stay here, but it felt like the only place I could.. come back to. It wasn't a home by any means, but I wanted it to at least be liveable. The only thing I couldn't bring myself to replace was that damn mirror... *she laughs, wiping at her eyes nervously* I guess I lied when I said this place isn't traumatic for me. I just thought I could handle it for the sake of everyone else. I owe them that much.

Inigo: You don't owe us anything, Morana. If you were not comfortable coming here, we did not have to.

Morana: ... I just didn't want this place to be another weakness for me.

Inigo: *sighs, scooting closer to her and leaning against her comfortingly* The haunts of our past do not make us weak, my friend. It is living through it that makes us stronger. And I think it is easy to guess that you have been through much more than any of us can even imagine.

Morana: Maybe. *leans against Inigo* ... I wish I didn't have to die to be freed from this.

Inigo: ... Me too. We will find a cure for you, Morana. I promise.

~

Kaidan: *pacing around the living room, his gaze flitting to the bedroom every few seconds*

Lucien: In all fairness, Kaidan, I don't think wearing yourself out is going to help anything.

Kaidan: I'm not in the mood for it, Lucien.

Lucien: Alright, fine. *raises his hands in surrender and goes back to tinkering with some Dwemer artifacts*

Kaidan: ... *turns and walks towards the bedroom, reaching for the doorknob*

Xelzaz: *without looking up from his book* No.

Kaidan: Ugh. Why not?

Xelzaz: Morana may be too distressed to deal with many more people than Inigo right now.

Kaidan: Why wouldn't she want to see me?

Xelzaz: She's overwhelmed, and upset. On a daily basis, she is surrounded by people. In emotional moments like this, I'm sure you've noticed she prefers to be alone.

Kaidan: ...

Xelzaz: If I may recommend an alternative endeavor right now, go and knock some sense into Taliesin.

Kaidan: Taliesin? He's about the last person I want to see right now.

Xelzaz: Nothing will be solved between those two if they don't work it out. While Morana by now likely feels guilty about yelling at Taliesin, she's just going to assume he hates her, so he needs to make the first step. He never apologized for snooping, anyway.

Kaidan: .. God damn, he never did, did he? *turns and leaves the room, taking the stairs two at a time to follow Taliesin outside*

Lucien: You are very good at conflict resolution.

Xelzaz: I'd hardly call that conflict resolution. I'm actually counting on Talieisn having a black eye when he comes back, so I don't have to do it myself.

Lucien: Ha, I feel the same.

~

Morana: *walks out of her bedroom, leaning on her cane*

Xelzaz: Ah, welcome back. How are you feeling, Morana?

Morana: ... Fine..

Inigo: We talked. She wishes to speak with Taliesin now.

Kaidan: Ah, so I dragged his arse back at the right time, then. *literally dragging Taliesin by the back of his robes back down the stairs*

Taliesin: *face bruised and hair and clothes tousled* Let me go, you barbarian!!

Kaidan: Apologize. *shoves him towards Morana*

Morana: ?! Kai, you can't just beat him up-

Kaidan: He was an asshole to ye, I can do whatever the hell I want with him.

Taliesin: Kinky- Ow, watch the hair!

Morana: *steps back, shrinking in on herself as she watches Taliesin struggle* I-I don't need to speak with you now, if you don't want to.. Um, goodbye- *turns and tries to escape back into her room*

Taliesin: Wait! Morana, let me speak, please?

Morana: ...

Taliesin: I- Look, you were right. I stuck my nose in your business when I shouldn't have- And honestly, I was being a bit of a mother hen, ha.

Kaidan: a 'bit'?

Taliesin: Silence from the peanut gallery, please.

Inigo: Better idea. *grabs Kaidan by the back of his armor and drags him into the laboratory*

Kaidan: Oi!

Lucien: Break something if you need us, Morana.

Inigo: Please don't.

Xelzaz: We'll be waiting deeper inside.

Morana: *nods, sitting back down at her spot on the couch*

Taliesin: *sighs, reaching up to try and fix his hair nervously* Uh, well..

Morana: *noticeably unnerved by Taliesin's hesitance, pulls her knees to her chest*

Taliesin: ... I'm sorry.

Morana: ...?

Taliesin: You were right. From the moment I met you, I've.. felt this need to protect you. And I can understand how you felt suffocated by that. To me you were this absurdly weak Dunmer that could barely brandish anything larger than a dagger, and who was stolen away from the innate magic of her people. With no voice, and no way of standing up for herself in Skyrim.

Morana: *deadpans* I'm always glad for your honesty, Taliesin.

Taliesin: *sputters* Well you- I- Will you just wait a moment- I-I'm not done!

Morana: Go on, then.

Taliesin: And then you became someone dear to me! Someone I saw less as a person I owed my life, and more as a woman I would gladly give my life for in an instant! And yes, that still comes from a desire to protect you. I would be lying if I told you I would ever stop worrying.

Morana: ...

Taliesin: But I can promise to do better. No more smothering, or underestimating, or suffocating. I'll- *shudders* I'll learn from the likes of Kaidan, and ask if you need my help next time.

Morana: ... *pats the seat next to her*

Taliesin: *sighs, sits down* You are.. one of the strongest people I've met in my life. I see that now. Your will to survive, even with the cards you've been dealt.. it is the most fascinating and beautiful thing I have ever seen. I only wanted to make things easier for you. I'm sorry.

Morana: ... *leans against Taliein's shoulder gently* Thank you, Tally. I'm sorry I yelled at you. And accused you of not trusting me.

Taliesin: You've no need to be sorry, my dear raven.

Morana: ... *turns away to cough*

Taliesin: Good gods you've used your voice far too much for one night. I- Do you want me to get you anything?

Morana: ... Could you call Lucien back in to make some tea, please? I like his the best.

Taliesin: Consider it done, dear.

[kookaburra1701]

From the asks list <3

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

Eeeee ty. Questions from here.

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

Oh man. I honestly don't know. I wish I did, because I could then shut off the flow while I work through the massive WIP backlog. What tends to happen is I'm writing a fic and a side character hijacks my brain and I think about what fun Situations I can put them in and then BAM new WIP(s.) But I think the answer to this is actually the same as the answer to the next question...

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

Which is both and neither! (Useful, right?)

Generally, the process goes like this: I get an image or a very, very short scene in my head. Usually there's very specific characters in this scene or image, but not always, so I guess the answer would lean towards characters. I have no idea what events led up to this scene. But I replay the scene over and over in my head and think about what events happened before to lead up to it and what events would happen after to make a satisfying resolution (If the scene is not an ending scene.)

The story outline then grows as keep letting the full narrative grow from that seed-scene. I have a doc filled with a lot of those scene seeds, some of them get wrapped up into existing WIPs, some are waiting to see if they'll grow into something on their own. This is also the root of why I do not write in order - sometimes the story is growing backwards and I often don't find the "beginning" until well after I've figured out what the "end" should be!

For example, I've still got the "seed" that grew into Wives of Shor...and I actually have no idea where in the fic I'm going to put it any more, because the story brambles have grown in so many directions!

Kaidan and Inigo shared a knowing look before each moved silently to the perimeter of the small hollow. Pascale and Lucien, completely absorbed in exploring every crack and crevice in the overgrown pile of rocks which had once been an ancient Nordic megalith, did not notice. Inigo stood next to a fir tree, its drooping boughs breaking up his silhouette. Kaidan could see his right hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword as the khajiit’s sharp eyes scanned the forest. A twig snapped to Kaidan’s right. His head snapped around, looking for the source. Hoofbeats and crashing brush heralded an elk followed by her calf appearing from the thicket. The cow took one look at him and immediately turned back. Kaidan took his hand off his sword. They had likely come to drink from the spring seeping up from the foot of the tumbled stones. Lucien’s laughter bubbled up behind him, and Kaidan spared a glance at the two. Pascale was crouched on one of the taller rocks, watching Lucien dig around in his pack. Lucien was clearly laughing in response to one of her quips. Kaidan felt a pang – so much passed between Pascale and Lucien that he would never understand.

This scene - Kaidan feeling on the outside looking in while he and Inigo did the job of keeping everyone safe while the archaeology nerds explore with no thought to danger just popped into my head one day back in 2020 (judging by the timestamp on the first iteration of this in my computer.) I turned this scene and replayed it over and over for over a year before I realized I wanted Kaidan and Lucien have bodice-rippery sex-pollen escapades, and that was something that was going to happen after this scene. The story-vine grew forward to connect them, and I waited for it to grow backwards to the start...but instead the bodice-ripper sex-pollen romp sent out a stolon that COMPLETELY BYPASSED the original seed and the beginning was disconnected. The plant metaphor might be getting away from me here.

57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished?

Once again, it's both? I tend to write in bursts that I don't edit, but then before making too much progress past that get edited on their own. Then at the end before publishing I do several rounds of gestalt editing to find plot holes, inconsistencies, etc that crop up from my piecemeal writing style. I usually at this point print out the entire chapter and mark it up with an actual pencil because that's a good way for my brain to see errors that I've become blind to.

Then it goes off to beta for several rounds. When my beta is done (or is sick of me ha ha) I do another print out round of editing.

[nowis-scales]

Fire Emblem Awakening Mistletoe Headcanons

Here I am, back once again, sliiiiightly late as per potentially usual. The holidays are a busy time for anyone, after all, and I am not exception! Still, I hope you enjoy what I have in store. This year’s set for Awakening follows Henry/Olivia, Tiki/Say’ri, Lissa/Ricken, Gaius/Maribelle, Cordelia/Sumia, Vaike/Chrom, Inigo/Gerome, and Tharja/F Robin.

Hopefully you like what you read, and you can find last year’s here!

Henry/Olivia:

I feel like Henry absolutely employs the help of the crows to get Olivia under the mistletoe. The two of them are probably just having a nice winter’s dinner together when one of the crows flies over to land on Henry’s head. Olivia can’t help but smile and coo at it, laughing at how much the crows love Henry and how close they are to him. It’s only once Henry points out that there’s something in the crow’s mouth that Olivia clues into what’s actually happening. She blushes and asks Henry if he’s sure, to which he responds that he is, and that he wanted to do this in privacy for the sake of her shyness. Olivia is touched, and agrees to a nice kiss between the two of them. Henry is very gentle and careful with her, and he cannot help but appreciate the way she seems to melt into his embrace.

Tiki/Say’ri:

I feel like Tiki is oblivious to some of this mistletoe romantic stuff because she was just like, asleep for most of its establishment? So it’s Say’ri who has to bring it up to her once they accidentally get caught under the mistletoe. She’s quite flustered about the whole thing, insisting to the voice of Naga that she needn’t do anything she isn’t comfortable with, but of course Tiki believes that they shouldn’t shirk tradition. She closes her eyes and puckers up ever so slightly, so Say’ri cannot help but complete the link between them, surprised at how her heart seems to flutter when she meets with Tiki. Heat spreads through her chest, and she can’t help but snake an arm across Tiki’s waist and pull her in closer — something the manakete doesn’t seem to mind.

Lissa/Ricken:

Ricken’s probably the one that does the planning, but I can’t say that I feel as if he would do much with extravagance. He’d probably just hide the mistletoe in his robes until he had a private moment with Lissa, and then, when the two of them are alone, he starts talking about how pretty she is with the fallen snow in her hair, and asks her if she would do him in the honour of sharing a mistletoe kiss. Lissa laughs, insisting that she didn’t know that Ricken was such a sap. Still, she is more than willing to oblige the kiss, happy that her boyfriend is so romantic. The kiss is probably one of those sweet, innocent ones so commonly affiliated with puppy love, and maybe not the most skilful, but it’s happy and it’s sweet, and absolutely a smooth move that Ricken will brag about for years after.

Maribelle/Gaius:

I feel like when these two get their moment, it’s through the making of a candy-mistletoe. Maribelle has it made specially to ensure that she gets one — although she’d never admit it, because she’s a lady. But she got them made, and presents them to Gaius as apart of a dessert plate. He notices them right off the bat, a smirk creeping across his face as he asks his precious Twinkles if she planned this. She insists that she doesn’t know what he is talking about, but he is more than willing to tease her about wanting some sugar herself. Maribelle rolls her eyes, but cannot help but smile as Gaius pulls her in for a passionate, romantic kiss that lasts more than just a few minutes.

Cordelia/Sumia:

Sumia and Cordelia probably get caught under the mistletoe during an attempted play that Cordelia makes for Chrom. She hangs up mistletoe around a few different places in camp, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she’ll be in the right place at the right time to get it done. Sumia, on the other hand, is just curious about what her friend is up to. Which, of course, lands her right under the mistletoe. Naturally she and Cordelia blush, with the red headed pegasus knight insisting that she needn’t do anything. Sumia decides to kiss her cheek instead, but finds even that embarrassing, promptly apologizing and running off… Cordelia can’t help but wonder what all that was about, knowing in the back of her mind that something about Sumia’s lips on her cheeks felt… different. Did she still want that one with Chrom on the lips? … Somehow, it was hard to know anymore.

Vaike/Chrom:

Vaike probably got Chrom into a romantic position for mistletoe kisses via a challenge of some kind. I could honestly seem him doing it as a plain old sparring match, but maybe he could do a test of wits instead. He’d have a series of questions asked, ones that would all be catered towards his own knowledge, and of course Chrom is rolling his eyes the whole time. Eventually, they get to the million-dollar question, the one that will make the person who answers it the automatic winner. The question? “What is the tradition associated with mistletoe?”

Chrom answers it quickly and wins, and is then told by Vaike that he gets his prize… and then of course, he has to pucker up. Chrom rolls his eyes again, shaking his head.

“I should’ve known with you, Vaike,” he almost laughs as he leans in.

Gerome/Inigo:

Gerome is too cool for mistletoe kisses. Inigo is too embarrassed. What do you get when this happens? Spontaneity. Inigo has stopped by to chat with Gerome for a minute as he’s tending to Minerva, when suddenly they notice that she’s got something in her mouth. When Gerome asks to see what she has, the wyvern proudly sits up and shows them that she’s got some mistletoe, and she’s dangling it above their heads. Inigo is shocked, and Gerome can barely form words, but their desire to refuse the call of tradition makes Minerva grumpy, so they figure they’d better go through with it just to keep her happy. The kiss is awkward and stiff — just what you’d expect from these dweebs — but not altogether bad. Although they agree to not talk about it again for awhile after… but they will. It sparks some feelings, after all.

F Robin/Tharja:

Tharja will act like she does not care about being caught under the mistletoe with Robin. She cares immensely. Robin knows this, so she pretends to call her for a second pair of eyes on her battle pans for the next meeting. Then, as Tharja is looking them over, she smiles and points at the mistletoe. A dark, almost creepy smirk crosses the mage’s face, but Robin knows her girl well enough to know that this is her being happy, so she can do nothing more than lean and a plant a big, loving kiss on her. Tharja lets out a surprisingly cute giggle as she reciprocates, tangling her fingers in Robin’s hair and jokingly tugging on one of her pigtails.

[mamamittens]

Give your ocs to me I demand them actually

GIVE I WANT TO *HEAR* *EXPERIENCE* LOVE AND CHERISH THEM

HAND THEM OVER 🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫🔫!!!!

A-Are ya sure bud?! There's a lot lmao...

I suppose since you asked I can at least give you one and a little bit of what I have (some details are still being ironed out as I go through One Piece).

This is Mina! (After the time skip)

Her name is actually a lot longer (cause she's the daughter of a noble family who primarily got their wealth through trade so they overcompensate). She's about 15/16 when the series starts and temporarily hitches a ride with the Strawhats to get to the Grand Line to find her uncle (who she knows is a pirate on a big crew who no longer goes by his full name, just like she does... or rather, doesn't) after her parents died since he's the one that got custody (and her other option has a gambling addiction and is well on his way to losing his entire fortune as it is).

She didn't actually know that her parents were nobles because she was literally left in the care of the butler and no one actually explained her family to her. Her caretaker also failed to notice she is in possession of a devil fruit for the near entirety of her life (and she just assumes the unique view of the world she has is totally normal). She's adventurous, independent, and resourceful! Eager to problem solve and explore, she has a tendency to assume she can handle everything presented to her--one way or the other.

I designed her backstory as a sort of twist between Kaya and Sabo.

Random snippet I have and may or may not keep:

“Oi! You coming up?” Ace laughed. A low, masculine voice called back to him after a moment, much deeper than anyone expected from the slight figure they’d spotted from a distance.

“I’ve never felt the need to leap up over a large house, Ace. Give me a minute… I’m not even sure if I can jump that high.” Ace’s grin sharpened with mischief as he chuckled, holding out his hands as he leaned over the side a bit more and clapped once.

“You just have to reach me! I promise I’ll lift you up the rest of the way! C’mon, Mina, you can do it!” Ace cheered supportively with a faint teasing tone.

“Drop me and I’m haunting you till the end of your days, Portgas.” The man threatened lowly. There was a soft series of footsteps up the side of the ship before small hands slapped into Ace’s waiting grasp as he cheered, easily lifting up the newcomer and dropping them onto the deck with pride.

“Atta girl! See? I knew you could do it!” Ace slapped his hand over the bright red beanie and ruffled it with a teasing jeer.

His hand was slapped away with a huff.

“Yeah, yeah! I know! I was there! You can stop now!” Ace hopped onto the deck properly with a familiar, wide grin, eyes crinkled with cheer.

(She wears a mask that warps her voice down several octaves as part of a disguise, possibly to contain an ability she gains through her devil fruit, and cause it's cool looking) and finally, the fancy name of her uncle and herself!

Tinsley Inigo Thomas Thatcher Marinus (the Third)

Edwina Tinsley Adeline Wilhelmina Marinus

Obviously, it's Thatch. He seemed like the more interesting option and more likely to not be immediately realized if it was someone more infamous like Whitebeard or Marco. Just big enough she could find him but not likely to randomly find his wanted poster somewhere, necessitating a run in with Ace who knows part of Thatch's name and absolutely had to confirm. And I wasn't mean enough to have it be someone like Crocodile or Doflamingo lmao

Also obviously, Thatch lives in this one, but only barely. He doesn't get to skip out on being a responsible family member and 'officially' making Whitebeard a grandfather.

Naturally, this is just one of many that I have. And I haven't even properly written for her yet since I need to catch up on One Piece to determine where she should be placed in the story.

random pics of other babies

(All of these are in the One Piece world btw... I have a problem lmao)

[heroismdreams-moved]

Cyn x Kjelle?

{ Rating your ships }

[ vomit / don’t ship / ok / cute / adorable / sexy / perfect / beyond flawless / hot damn /screaming and crying /i will ship them in hell ]

( Ah yes, my rarepair! They have only one canon interaction but hot damn is it one of my favorite ones Cynthia can have! Unlike (sadly) every other second gen interaction, Kjelle in their Hot Spring Scramble conversation never says anything demoralizing to Cynthia, or insulting, or snide, or could be taken the wrong way - absolutely nothing negative! She talks to Cynthia with respect and even kindness!! And that makes me cry!!! )

( And to make matters more interesting - it reveals that when they were children Kjelle literally jumped in front of a blow for Cynthia. She almost died so that Cynthia wouldn’t. Kjelle was her hero, and Kjelle continues to support Cynthia’s quest to become a great hero. )

( The only other canon interactions are the Drama CD - where Cynthia gets upset when Kjelle says she doesn’t want to go to the past - and Futures Past - where Cynthia gets so upset when Kjelle gives up and finally breaks down and admits that maybe this is hopeless but she’s not giving up - so everything else that follows is my headcanon )

( And my headcanon is - Cynthia loves Kjelle - because Kjelle is strong, and respected, and brave, and beautiful; she saved her life and she continues to be a bastion of support in her life. She does hate how Kjelle treats their friends, and when she hears about the (canon) time Kjelle drank a truth potion and proceeded to call Severa beautiful and say that she wanted to date her, it does break her heart a little - but she loves Kjelle. Kjelle was her hero. Her champion. She’s only alive because Kjelle was in her life. )

( TLDR ; RAREPAIR BUT A GOOD ONE! )

[monster--mama]

Meeting Inigo

"Isn't that my ring?" Madesi asks. Ravenna looks at her hand, confused. She's not wearing any- Oh. "Is it? I don't know whose this is," she replies, taking it off and holding it out, "If it is yours, I'm more than happy to return it?" Madesi scowls at her, eyes narrowed. "How kind of you, to return something to me which you've already stolen. Guards! Over here!" At Madesi's call, two guards shuffle over. Lucien cowers, while Ravenna, infuriated and dumbstruck, confronts Madesi. "I didn't take it from you! I said you could have it back if it was yours, why do we need to get the guards involved?" she demands. "Because I don't believe you didn't steal it. You’re only offering to return it because you were caught." In the background, Kaidan gets between Ravenna and the guards. "Woah, hey now. Let's not make this bigger than it is," he attempts to placate them, but they don't seem to care. In fact, they care so little, that they decide to arrest Kaidan along with Ravenna. Only Lucien is let be, but he trails behind the guards as they cart away his companions like a lost puppy regardless. Ravenna and Kaidan are shut up in the same cell, across the prison from a strange Khajiit with blue fur, who talks to himself in his cell. Ravenna looks to Kaidan as the guard locks their door. "I didn't steal that ring from him." "Know you didn't. Think it was that hooded bastard who bumped into you while we were at Brand-Shei's stall, must've planted the ring on you. Sorry I didn't notice when it happened." "Not your responsibility to look after me. Hopefully this will sort itself out quickly." As they are talking, deliberating what to do and trying to guess what may next happen, the Khajiit from across the room speaks to them. More specifically, he calls to Ravenna, waving his arm at her through the bars of his cell. "You there," he calls, "the woman! Do you recognize me?" Ravenna and Kaidan exchange confused gazes. "No," she calls back to him, "Should I?" The cat looks crestfallen. "You don't?" "No," she repeats. "You've not come to Riften to finish me off?" he asks. If Ravenna had liquid in her mouth, she'd have been spitting it out right then. "Why would I be here to 'finish you off'?" she asks. "You don't remember? The job? Anything?" "No, I don't know what you're talking about." "That," he begins, "That is my fault also." "What do you mean?" "Let me introduce myself. I am your so-called friend Inigo. I was the one who killed you, I tried anyway. I am guilty! Kill me!" "You didn't do a very good job, did you? Also, I'm locked up too. I couldn't kill you if I wanted to. Why are you in here?" "After I shot you I realized my mistake and turned myself in. Your body was gone, the guards did not believe me! I had to pay them to put me in this cell. It's where I belong. I needed to repent, I need to repent." "If you thought I was dead than why were you here waiting for me?" "I heard tales of an adventurer, both brave and resourceful, matching your description! I knew it was you,  it had to be! I knew you were going to be coming for me, so I waited. Are you going to kill me? Or not?" "Kill you for what? I don't remember what happened." The cat - Inigo - sighs heavily. "I see I must relive it again, your memory is not what it was." Ravenna's memory is perfectly intact, actually, but she does not bring this up. "We met on a job." "What kind of job?" "The killing kind. We were hired by a lord called Dupan to kill his brothers," Inigo starts the tale and already Ravenna knows this wasn't her. This is an assassination job; a variety of work she usually never takes. "With them gone, Dupan would inherit a great fortune, and promised us much gold in return. Do you remember none of this?" "No. Inigo, I'm fairly sure I'm not who you think I am." "You are," he insists, "Before we left, Dupan said that if only one of us returned from the mission, that one would get the other's reward also. I was hooked on skooma at the time, and I had a bit of a debt problem, so..." "You killed me for my half of the reward," Ravenna fills in the blank. "I tried," he agrees, "That is what matters. It wasn't an easy choice. We had only known each other for a short time, but I grew to like and respect you. We got on well, and fought bravely side-by-side. I threw all that away for gold, and skooma." "Did you end up getting the reward?" She asks. "Hah. No, Dupan was murdered by his sister before I returned. Our deal died with him. Money is an evil like no other, my friend. It is only just that I die at your hand." "Are you still hooked on skooma?" "No. I am done with the stuff. I want to die with my senses intact. Kill me now, I am ready." "No," she replies, "Even if I were able to from here, I would not. Don't ask me again. I am not the person you remember-" "What's all the ruckus down here, lass?" another voice cuts in, and Kaidan sits upright in the chair he'd been occupying while all this went down, suddenly at attention. Brynjolf walks down the stairs, one of the guards trailing not far behind. “I cleared things up with the guards for you, lass. Bad business for the guild to make trouble with someone we’re hoping to recruit. You and your beau are free to go,” the thief tells them as the guard unlocks their cell and lets them out. Kaidan looks to Ravenna with raised eyebrows as they leave. “Trying to recruit you? That why you’ve been avoiding the guild all this time?” He asks. Ravenna nods. “‘Afraid so. They’ve known about me for years, unfortunately.” “That we have,” Brynjolf agrees, “We know she plays nice, but the guild wants her for reasons other than stealing - not that she wouldn’t make a fine thief if she were willing.” "And I believe I've made it fairly clear that I am not-" "Not yet," Brynjolf insists. "Not ever," Ravenna pushes back. "Keep tellin' yourself that, lass. I'll be seein' you," he offers his parting words - and a wink - to Ravenna before turning and heading on his way. Ravenna's attention returns to their new, blue friend. "You said you had to pay them to put you in here? Do you know where they've put the key?" she asks. Inigo nods uncertainly. "In a chest above the fireplace. Why?" "I may not be the person you think I am, but that doesn't mean they're not out there somewhere. Why don't you come travel with me, and we can look for them, instead of staying here to rot in this cell?" she offers. Inigo perks up. "I fight with you?" He asks, hopefully. Ravenna nods. "For now, until you're ready to move on," she says. "Ravenna, are you sure about this," Kaidan cuts in, looking concerned, "I'm not making extra effort to look after him." "I don't expect you to," Ravenna placates, "You just focus on me. Don't worry about him, and don't worry about Lucien - leave them to me. Besides, I'm confident this fellow can at least handle himself." "Fair enough," Kaidan agrees, "If you're sure." "I am," she says, and returns to Inigo, "Are you though?" "I am more than sure, my friend! I accept! I feel lighter in my heart now you have given me this opportunity!" Inigo cheers. "Very good," Ravenna answers sweetly, "Just mind your aim, would you?" "Do not joke about such things my friend," he says glumly, "The sadness I feel for what I have done is brutal enough, for now." "What's going on!? They said you two could leave already!" Lucien's voice echoes in from the hallway, "We need to go! The Vigil are here again!" "Oh, for the love of Talos," Kaidan laments as Lucien runs down the stairs, tripping over himself to get down to reach them. "The Vigil?" Inigo asks, "Who are the Vigil?" "We can explain that later, but for now, we have to leave. Get your things," Ravenna orders, and as Inigo gathers his belongings within his cell, Ravenna and Kaidan recollect their weapons and tools from the warden, Lucien panicking around them all the while. "Where to next?" Ravenna asks the group as they rush out the nearest Riften gates. "Whiterun!" Lucien suggests, "Hadvar surely warned Riverwood about the dragon, but we should still go and make sure the Jarl knows!" "Dragon?! Do you mean to say that you have seen a dragon, my friend?" Inigo asks. "Whiterun works," says Kaidan, "Lucien's right, someone has to make sure the Jarl knows about that fucking wyrm. We'd have to move on again quick, though."

[maria-scribbles]

we’re just like kevin bacon!

prompt: for @bricksatanakinswindow​ ‘s halloween writing challenge! this was initially inspired by "mortal enemies accidentally showing up in matching costumes every fucking year" but once i started writing it kind of snowballed from there and i ended up with this lmao

ship: jj maybank x fem!reader

word count: 4.6k+ (i think this is the shortest thing i’ve ever written lol)

warnings n stuff: childhood enemies to lovers, swearing, mention of underage drinking, halloween shenanigans, makin' out, smut (not too explicit but i still think it's spicy enough to need an 18+ warning), jj and the reader being cute lil nerds and quoting movies back and forth, the author blatantly using some of her personal favorite movies/shows as inspiration for costumes, the author also making her opinions on ghostbusters clear (instead of the human trash can peter venkman, stan the adorable dork known as ray stantz for clear skin)

a/n: this was hella fun to write and i already have so many more halloween fic ideas bouncing around in my head (it's spoopy season, y'all!). title of this fic comes from guardians of the galaxy 😊

Of three things in life you were certain.

One, you loved Halloween more than any other holiday of the year; after all, you and your twin brother Mason were born just after one AM on October 31st so you could say a penchant for all things spooky was in your blood.

Two, Sarah Cameron was your best friend. Being neighbors your whole lives, the two of you were thick as thieves and spent almost every day together, much to the annoyance of both your brother and hers; as much as you loved Mason, sometimes you wished Sarah was your twin instead of him and you knew without question the blonde girl would trade Rafe for you in a heartbeat (with little to no guilt, in fact.). 

And three, you absolutely hated JJ Maybank. You'd been at the top of each other's shit lists ever since you were both six years old, when he made fun of you for the stutter you'd had back then and you dumped a full milkshake over his head as payback, and even as time passed and you grew out of your stutter, your disdain for the blond pogue only grew stronger. He was infuriating, plain and simple, and the mere mention of his name made steam come out of your ears. 

The boy was just good at being annoying and seemed to love pushing everyone's buttons, yours especially, and always found ways to get under your skin without fail every single time your paths crossed (which was way too often for your liking, but running in the same friend group made it hard to avoid each other). It became an unspoken thing, the great Y/L/N-Maybank feud, with both of you trying your hardest to piss the other off until one of your mutual friends or your brother broke it up and pulled you to opposite corners of the metaphorical ring to take a breather before the next round.

You'd never admit it but deep down you kind of liked it. You liked being at the center of his attention (granted, it was antagonistic in nature but it was attention all the same), his bright blue eyes following your every move whenever you were within his sights and you liked that you were in his thoughts even when you weren't around, a fact proven to you by the tiny notebook Kiara carried around in her pocket recording how many times he mentioned your name. Knowing you lived rent free in his mind brought you an embarrassingly high level of satisfaction that you'd absolutely deny feeling if anyone ever asked, just as you'd deny the fact that he lived rent free in your mind, too.

...At least for most of the year. Everyone, including JJ, knew that to you Halloween was a damn-near sacred time. He knew never to mess with you during the weeks leading up to the holiday and definitely never on the day itself, lest he want yet another milkshake dumped over his blond head. He knew that, the whole damn island knew he did and yet...somehow, some way, he managed to get your blood boiling every. single. year. And you, like a masochistic idiot, let him. 

It all started when you were twelve.

You, Mason, and your friends were finally old enough to go to the annual youth party held on the sprawling lawn of the Island Club, an event you'd been looking forward to attending every Halloween since you were eight. Of course, you were excited for the dancing and games and food but the thing you couldn't wait the most for was the costume contest, a chance to show off your skills and prove to everyone on the island that Y/N Y/L/N was the undisputed queen of Halloween.

So what if your hopes were a little too high (considering you were only twelve and going up against kids ranging from your age to fifteen), you were still gonna give it your all; you spent weeks perfecting not only your costume but your brother's as well with your mom, helping her cut fabric and sew zippers, styling wigs and painting props until everything was perfect. 

"Oh my God, Y/N!" Sarah, dressed as Cinderella, yelled from the passenger seat of her dad's SUV when they swung by to pick you up. "You look amazing!"

"So do you!" You said, slipping into the back seat in between a miserable-looking Rafe as Sarah Sanderson ("I lost a bet," he explained with a scowl) and Mason, holding your mini R2-D2 on your lap. Was it kind of cheesy, dressing up as the most iconic twins in movie history? Probably, but you really didn't care because Leia Organa was a total boss bitch and Mason was practically over the moon that he got to be his ultimate silver screen hero and swing around his very own lightsaber as Luke Skywalker.

"The Force is strong with you two." Ward joked, earning an eye roll from both of his children as he drove to the Island Club to drop you off. Rafe immediately disappeared into the crowd to meet up with Topper and Kelce and the three of you went off to find your own friends, skirting around the edge of the party toward the snack tables, also known as the most likely place for them to be.  

You spotted Kiara first, looking like an actual princess in her Tiana costume and waved, smiling when she waved back and beckoned you over as she said something to Pope, dressed as Albert Einstein, that made him start laughing hysterically.

"What's so funny?" You asked, reaching between them to grab two handfuls of pretzels and immediately dropping one into your brother's outstretched palm, careful to keep the sleeve of your white dress away from the bright orange-iced cupcakes on the table. 

The two of them exchanged a look that instantly made you realize something was Up™ but before either of them could answer, Mason asked around a mouthful of pretzels, "Where're Tweedledee and Tweedledum?"

"J, why didn't we think of that?" John B's voice came from somewhere over your shoulder and when you turned to face him, you nearly dropped both the droid cradled in the crook of your elbow and the snacks in your hand. Not because of John B and his hilarious Chewbacca costume but because of the fact that JJ Maybank, the one person you hated the most on the whole entire island, was dressed as Han freakin' Solo. 

"Yikes." Someone muttered behind you -it sounded like Sarah but you weren't really sure- and Mason nearly choked on his pretzels as he tried and failed miserably to keep himself from laughing. 

"You've gotta be kidding me." You huffed, rolling your eyes as JJ crossed his arms and glared in your direction, blaster hanging from the holster on his hip.

"Listen, Princess, I'm not too happy about this, either."

"Oh, shut up, you nerfherder."

"Who you calling-" Mason and John B cut in and pulled you both in opposite directions before either of you could turn it into a shouting match, your brother physically grabbing you around the waist and carrying you off while the latter caught the back of JJ's vest and dragged him away. Despite their best efforts to keep you apart, you ran into each other more times than you could count and spent a minute or two squabbling like cats and dogs each time until one of them intervened once again. It was childish, it was immature, and it was fun, even though you'd never, ever admit it. Ever.

You didn't win the costume contest that year in the way you'd imagined at all. Still, first place in the group category was a win in your book and it felt good, even if one of the members of your unintentional Star Wars posse was someone who tested every bit of patience you had. The four of you split the cash prize and you went home 25 bucks richer, stashing it away for next year's costume and pushing the thought of accidentally matching with your mortal enemy from your mind. 

You had no idea this thing was only just beginning.

The next year, you let Sarah and Kiara convince you to match with them and the three of you rolled up to the party as the Pink Ladies -you as Rizzo, Sarah as Sandy, Kiara as Frenchy- only to run right into the boys, your brother included, dressed as the T-Birds. John B, perfectly in character as Danny, immediately whisked Sarah off to dance while Pope, the most adorably awkward Doody you'd ever seen, went to grab some snacks with Kiara, leaving you stuck with the bane of your existence as, of course, fucking Kenickie (Mason, as Sonny, dipped sometime before then without you noticing). The two of you spent the whole evening glaring at each other and hurling insults back and forth at breakneck speed, more in character than either of you'd ever want to acknowledge and for the second year in a row, you won first place in the group costume category.

At fourteen, you went as Princess Buttercup and JJ showed up as Westley, fake sword in hand as he followed you around all night like an annoying fly, sarcastically drawling "as you wish" every time you so much as glanced in his direction. Your brother, dressed as Inigo Montoya, nearly pissed himself laughing and you wanted to snatch both of their prop swords and shove them up their asses. You came in first again in the group costume contest and begrudgingly split the prize three ways. 

At fifteen, you worked hard on a Dr. Ellie Sattler costume from Jurassic Park, he strolled in as a disheveled Dr. Alan Grant with mud splattered boots and tattered clothes, and you really regretted not taking the offer to be the Tai to Sarah's Cher and Kiara's Dionne. Once again, Mason laughed so hard his face turned red and you were tempted to grab the sword he was holding and beat him over the head with it, not just for laughing at you but also for the completely atrocious Jack Sparrow costume he wore. To your absolute horror, you and JJ won the contest in the duo category and you wanted to melt into the ground when they called you onto the makeshift stage to collect your reward. 

When you were sixteen, you and your friends "graduated" to the party held for the older teens inside the club itself. With costume rules a little more lax than they were for the younger kids, you decided to go as (an only slightly sexy) Janine Melnitz, complete with a prop telephone you answered every so often with a loud "Ghostbusters, whaddya want?!" much to the embarrassment of Mason, who was once again dressed as Luke Skywalker, this time in the fatigues he wore while training on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back.

You strutted into the party in your heels and pencil skirt only to nearly fall flat on your face when you caught sight of JJ in a terrible black wig and glasses, proton pack strapped to his back and 'Spengler' printed on the front of his jumpsuit. Your brother winced when you all but screeched "Again?!" right into his ear and grabbed your elbow, dragging you over to an empty table and depositing you into an open chair.

"There's no way this is a coincidence anymore! He could've picked Venkman, with all the womanizing and lowkey being a creep and thinking he's God's gift to mankind? It would've been the perfect choice! He's not nearly adorable or dorky enough to be Stantz or sassy enough to be Winston-"

"Jesus, you have a lot of feelings about Ghostbusters," Mason muttered, rolling his eyes when you shot him a withering glare.

"Shut up! Listen to me, there's no way in hell Maybank randomly decided to be, out of alllll the 'Busters, Egon fuckin' Spengler, okay? He had to have somehow known I was coming as Janine and did it just to piss me off!"

Your brother heaved a deep, heavy sigh that made you want to smack him and fixed you with a deadpan stare. "Or, have you pulled your head out of your own ass long enough to think that maybe you're just becoming...predictable?"

You really did smack him then, hard on his exposed shoulder and he yelped, scowling as he rubbed at the red mark you left behind. "Ow! What the hell, bitch?!"

"Don't you dare call me predictable, you dickhead! I pride myself on my costumes being very unique and unexpected -you know, out of the box!"

"Hate to break it to you but they're not really out of the box if Maybank shows up in a matching one every single year." He said with an infuriating, shit-eating grin, patting your shoulder before straightening the plush Yoda strapped to his back. "I'm gonna go get some food, wanna come with?"

Still miffed at his comment, you shoved his arm away and glanced down at your lap, ignoring your brother's sassy "your loss" as he headed toward the snack tables. Not even a minute passed by before his empty seat was taken and you groaned when you looked up to see who it was, your eyes meeting a pair of bright blues behind tacky, oversized glasses. 

"Hi, Janine."

"...Egon."

The two of you sat in silence after that, watching the dancing crowd under the flashing neon lights and sparkling disco ball until you saw him turn to face you out of the corner of your eye.

"Why Janine?" 

"Huh?" You turned to face him, too, one eyebrow raised in a perfect arch as he gestured toward your costume.

"Why did you dress up as Janine, Y/L/N?"

"I've always liked her sassiness and 'I like to play racquetball.'" You offered a casual shrug of your shoulders and carefully stuck a finger under your wig to scratch an annoying itch above your ear. "Why'd you pick Egon, Maybank?"

"He's my favorite." He answered simply with his own shrug, shooting you a genuine, real smile that you, for who knows what reason, found yourself returning without a second thought. "Smart, hilarious -plus, 'I like to collect spores, mold, and fungus.'"

For the first time in your life, your eyes rolled out of amusement and not annoyance at something that JJ Maybank said and, to your complete surprise, it kind of felt...right. "Really? I'd have pegged you for a Venkman stan."

"Are you kidding? He's the worst!" 

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you'd sit across from your hated enemy, not only having a civil -hell, downright enjoyable- conversation but actually smiling right along with him, laughing at his jokes and doing your best to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach each time you caught sight of his slightly crooked teeth when he grinned. You didn't even notice when your brother returned with Kiara, dressed as Moana, at his side and two heaping plates of snacks in his hands until his chair scraped gratingly across the hardwood floor. 

"Kie, are you seeing this? Pigs must be flying 'cause they're actually smiling at each other." Mason said, cackling as Kiara turned to squint out the window.

"Yeah, I think I see one or two soaring around out there." She giggled and sent a mischievous wink in your direction. With your face feeling like it was on fire, you flipped them both the bird and took off, disappearing into the crowd and leaving all your traitorous, confusing thoughts about JJ behind with the boy himself; it was Rafe's last party at the Club and he owed you a dance anyway, but even as your best friend's older brother, cute as hell in his Thor costume, playfully twirled you around the floor to the Ghostbusters theme song, you felt more than your partner's blue eyes on you.

To no one's surprise, you and JJ won the duo category for the second year in a row and when you joined him onstage to collect your prize and didn't feel like you'd rather die than be up there by his side, you suddenly realized you were only certain about two things in life instead of three. 

At seventeen, you were confident you and JJ wouldn't be matching for once (after last year, though, you were kind of thinking it wouldn't be that bad of a thing). You'd gone cult classic for your costume, pulling inspiration from your mom's favorite move, 1999's The Mummy, and put together a screen-accurate Evelyn Carnahan in her iconic black dress, including a handmade Book of the Dead and matching key. You blackmailed Mason with pictures of him, drunk as a skunk and dressed in your Janine costume from the previous year, and got him to go as Jonathan, complete with a pith helmet and prop bottle of The Glenlivet.  

But, as always, JJ managed to surprise you. You literally ran right into his chest and if it wasn't for his arms instantly wrapping tight around your waist, you would've bit it hard.

"Whoa, careful there," He said, one hand keeping you close while the other moved to help you hold the book in your arms. "'The Book of the Dead? Are you sure you wanna be messing around with this thing?'"

Of course he'd make the perfect Rick O'Connell, you thought as you playfully raised one eyebrow and curled your fingers around the strap of the gun holster draped over his shoulder. "'It's just a book. No harm ever came from reading a book.'"

Mason was a little too in character as well as he dramatically rolled his eyes and wandered off, muttering "puh-lease" under his breath and shooting Sarah a conspiratorial wink that you didn't see. The blonde girl glanced between the two of you -arms still around each other and identical smiles on your faces- and grinned. The party flew by in a blur of movie quotes, laughs, and more dances than you could count and by the time you made it home, 50 bucks in the pocket of your dress and another group costume win under your belt, you were almost positive you never actually hated JJ Maybank in the first place.

Now at eighteen, you pulled out all the stops for your last party at the Island Club. You'd spent the last few months slaving over your costume, sewing custom pieces, hand-crafting your prop, and spending way too much money on body makeup and a wig but when you saw the final product in the mirror, you knew it was all worth it. You were ready to slay the competition this year and take home first place for the final time.

Mason, indifferent as always about the contest but willing to do anything to keep those pictures from seeing the light of day, didn't protest one bit when you forced him into the matching costume you'd made for him -in typical Mason fashion, he liked that he didn't have to wear a shirt and could show off his muscles- and spent a few hours perfecting his makeup.

You felt on top of the world when you walked into the party that night as Gamora, a replica of her Godslayer sword in hand and skin painted a perfect shade of green, followed by your brother as Drax, already flexing for anyone and everyone looking his way. The rest of your friends came to win as well: John B and Sarah as Flynn Rider and Rapunzel, Kiara as Eleven, Pope as T'Challa, and, of course, JJ as Peter Quill, Baby Groot perched on his shoulder and twin blasters at his hips. 

"Lookin' good, Gamora!" He called over the music, shimmying his way over to you with some dance moves that would impress Star-Lord himself.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Quill." You replied in a sing-song voice, even as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into the crowd of bodies hopping up and down to some terrible EDM beat under the twirling disco ball.

"It got you out here with me, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes and hooked the sword to your belt before stepping closer and draping your arms around his neck, twirling your painted fingers in his hair. "Just remember, 'I know who you are, Peter Quill. And I'm not some starry-eyed waif here to succumb to your pelvic sorcery.'"

You should've known you spoke too soon the second you saw the spark in JJ's eyes that all but screamed 'wanna bet?'

And that's how you found yourself in the middle of the single hottest make out session you'd ever had the pleasure of participating in an hour later: back pressed against the locked door of someone's deserted office, legs wrapped tight around his waist and his hands hooked under your ass, both your sword and his blasters abandoned on the floor at his feet, and he was either a sinfully good kisser or trying really, really hard to blow your mind.  

"I'm not gonna end up green after this, am I?" He mumbled against your mouth before trailing his lips along your jaw and you breathed a laugh, tightening your grip on his hair.

"This is professional makeup, dumbass. It's gonna take more than some kissing to smudge it."

"I'm down for some smudging if you are." 

You pulled him back for another kiss in response and gasped into his mouth when he walked across the room, one strong arm reaching out to sweep whatever was on the desk to the floor before setting you down on it.

"Confident, are we?" 

JJ smirked at your breathless question and the way you hooked your ankles around the backs of his thighs to pull him closer. "So is that a yes to the smudging?"

"Just shut up and kiss me." 

He did -very well, you might add- and you kissed him back, untangling your hands from his hair to slide them under his jacket instead; you helped him push it off his shoulders and it had barely hit the ground along with poor Baby Groot before your fingers were tugging his shirt from the waistband of his pants.  

"Someone's impatient." He teased, leaning back just far enough to let you pull it over his head and toss it somewhere behind you.

"Someone doesn't know how to stop talking." You whispered your reply low in his ear and then trailed your lips down his neck, smiling in satisfaction at the tremble in his voice when you kissed the purple mark you'd left behind earlier.

"N-never was very good at that." 

"'You should've learned.'"

"'I don't learn, it's one of my issues.'"

One of his hands gripped your wig, pulling your head back a little roughly -you'd have so been into that if it had been your real hair he pulled- and you winced at the way the bobby pins holding it it place tugged painfully at your roots. "Ow, not so hard!"

"Wait, what the fuck? I thought you were wearing a wig!" 

"I am but it's still pinned to my actual hair!"

"Sorry, but how the hell was I supposed to know that?"

The sight of JJ's face slowly turning red made the butterflies in your stomach go haywire and so you just shook your head, mumbling "don't worry about it," before pressing your lips to his once again. He was gentler this time with the pulling and you dug your nails into his bare shoulders at the thrill of his mouth against the exposed column of your throat, leaning back further and further until you laid flat on the desk.

His fingers had just unbuttoned your pants when your phone started to ring from your pocket, blaring the Star Wars theme you had set as your twin's ringtone. 

"Mason's timing is impeccable," JJ said sarcastically, chuckling as you clamped a palm over his mouth and answered the call.

"What the hell do you want?"

"Jesus, no need to be pissy!" Mason loudly replied over the applause crackling through the phone's speaker. "I just thought you'd like to know that we just won best group costume with Maybank. Again." 

The blond winked at the mention of his last name and pulled your hand away from his mouth, pinning it to the desk beside you with one of his while the other started tugging your pants down over your hips.

"Oh, that's cool, Mase-" You inhaled sharply when his lips touched the edge of your underwear, so close to where you wanted him most but at the same time so far away, and your fingers held your phone in a white-knuckled grip. "But I-I'm kind of in the middle of doing someone -something!- right now."

"Smooth," JJ said, not even trying to be quiet as he released your pinned hand to finish pulling your boots off, along with your tight leather pants that he casually tossed aside. "And I knew you weren't green under these!" 

Your laugh quickly turned into a gasp when his fingers hooked under your panties and pulled those off, too, and the touch of his tongue against the skin of your inner thigh sent white-hot lightning racing through your veins; the phone slipped from your grip, falling with a clunk onto the desk as your fingers tangled in his hair and he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder.

"Okay, I'm hanging up now! I already know you're getting laid but I don't need to hear it." Mason's loud grumble drifted up through the speaker and if you weren't so preoccupied with the boy between your thighs doing some downright wicked things to you with his mouth, you might've noticed that your brother didn't actually sound that grumpy before he ended the call and your phone's screen went dark, right as you lost control of your voice.

"Fuck me."

"Funny, I thought that's what I was doing?" You felt more than heard his response against you and a shiver ran down your spine when his bright blue eyes flicked up to met yours in the dim light of the office.

"You know what I meant, Maybank."

"Trust me, Y/L/N, I know. Question is: where do you want me?"

You tugged on his hair, grinning wolfishly at the way his eyes fluttered closed and a low moan rose from his throat. "Everywhere in this damn room, starting right here."

"I was hoping you’d say that.”

- Back at the party, Mason looked up and met Sarah's gaze, both of her eyebrows raised expectantly as she asked, "Well?"

He took his time slipping his phone back into his pocket before giving her a quick nod, grinning triumphantly when she immediately burst into gleeful giggles.  

"Yes! I just knew they had a thing for each other! Mortal enemies, my ass."

"I think that was the very first time in my sister's life that she didn't give a shit about the contest." Mason said and reached over to snag a cookie from her plate, chuckling when she pushed his hand away from the chocolate chip ones and toward the peanut butter. "We couldn't have pulled this off without you. I mean, making sure they showed up in matching costumes every year? Genius, Sarah. Absolutely genius." 

The blonde girl grabbed her own cookie with a wink. "Think they'll ever figure it out?"

Your brother just threw his head back and laughed. "I hope not! I wanna save that story for my best man speech at their wedding."

taglist: @sinkbeneathwaves @cordeliascrown @maysbanks @jjpogueprincess @jiaraendgame @alexa-playafricabytoto @sexualparkour @agirlwholovescoffee​ 

[omgkalyppso]

It's 1 AM — happy belated birthday Owain! I wrote some owainigo / laslodin ? Intended as being able to be read as an S support for Laslow and Odin. Written to recognize Inigo as bisexual and polyamorous and Owain as a trans man. Vague about Owain's sexuality because he currently has his sights on Inigo only.

.

It had been a long time since Laslow had felt like dancing; even recently, he’d wondered if he’d ever want to again, when they’d fallen into Valla and all hope had seemed lost. Yet when Xander had ordered he and Peri enjoy themselves this eve, he’d had a week for his dancer’s garb to be refitted — the clothes he’d arrived in — now matching a soldier’s girth and shoulders. He was not the spritely lad of years past, and wondered whether he looked like a fool.

In the least, the steps were as familiar as breathing, and the melody of the drums was known to his heart, even if the tune wasn’t the same.

His mother — his birth mother, whom he’d only known for such a short time, so much of her dancing was made for battle: relief in victory, love in anticipation, heart in loss. She remembered music of happier times, but those dances hadn’t translated into his tiny feet, so used to the sound of war drums.

He found his dancing riled the spirits of some, who watched or tapped a foot, mimicking a step or two, and Laslow felt further from them than he ever had before.

They were going home. He was going home.

This crowd would only be a memory.

.

He wondered where he would find himself: would it really be the world left in relative peace where Grima lay sleeping? Or would his intent send him spiraling far and away to the land of memory, nightmares and blight? Would Owain even wish to leave Nohr? It suited Odin Dark so naturally. He seemed happier as a mage, and through magic, his own and discovered, Owain had even managed to mold his chest into a form that brought him joy and comfort.

Inigo wondered whether Owain would hold any apprehension in sharing this version of himself with old friends and family.

Some would say Owain had no understanding of shame or embarrassment, but they’d never read his stories aloud, or seen him as a young bashful man who knew little and less of how to present himself. Still, Owain had grown, had carved himself and the world around him in ways that had secured their victories as of late.

Inigo knew that it was his own insecurities over returning that truly alarmed him.

Meanwhile Severa knew what she wanted. She always had. Her heart might be large enough to reserve pieces for all who showed her kindness and some manner of discipline, but she could never stay away from Morgan and her parents. Her home was known and waiting.

.

The song ended and he shared a soft laugh with his liege, a man whose trust and generosity he was on the cusp of betraying.

.

Public celebrations were a favorite of Owain’s. He had learned to handle a crowd, and could often find a group or three to regale with tales of victory, honor and suspense. There were jeers at times, but less when the people were joyous and relieved. Perhaps not all understood the challenges that had weighed upon their liege lords and borders, or their fabric of reality, but they knew strife, and wanted to believe it could be felled by a hero — why shouldn’t he be that.

He’d been shouting over the music for so long, that he’d nearly missed Elise’s voice marveling excitedly, “Hey! Did you know about this? He told me his dancing was a secret.”

While the Xander hushed his sister and they chittered on in silence, Odin Dark also fumbled in his tale, glancing, for a moment, to where Laslow spun daggered discs on his wrists. Owain might have trailed off entirely, and taken the time to watch as much of the performance as possible, whether to jeer or jest or compliment, but Odin had an audience, people who would think him missing or worse in the weeks to come, and so he dove back into an embellishment of the beasts they had defeated. He could watch Inigo dance again. He was sure of it.

.

The tents were relatively empty when the witching hour came to pass. The masses had retreated to the castles and campgrounds, manor houses and taverns where guests and guards were making due. A flutist was speaking with Laslow, a dancer by his side, correcting his posture, of all things. Owain sat on the edge of a fountain, and watched until his friend noticed, as Laslow turned away, red in his cheeks and upon his neck. He stopped their performance swiftly, seemingly assuring the dancer that he would remember to practice. It put a pinch in Owain’s brow, mournful that he’d spurred his friend toward another broken promise.

“You were watching then?” asked Laslow, spinning a ribbing at his side through his hoops so that they would lay at his hip, jingling.

“Even those whose ears I captivated with tales from the saga of Odin Dark, could look nowhere else!” He chuckled as Laslow sat by his side, shifting slightly, as the costume left little protection against the cool damp stone of the fountain. “If only you’d told me, we might have coordinated our performance!”

“I’d make a poor archrival then,” Laslow teased. “If I weren’t stealing your audience.” He stretched, and Odin watched how the bulge of his belly and triceps marked Laslow for his latest manner of fighting — reserved, sturdy, and strong. “And still, not one enraptured lady to request an encore, nor a single suitor to waylay my evening with a flower or three.”

“Only me,” Odin said mournfully, shaking his head.

“Only you,” Laslow agreed, smirking, and he saw how tired Owain was then, and hoped it was his performance, regaling the public with magic and mystery, but he knew it was the war, the ever present ones they’d fought through. He wondered if he would ever feel so comfortable as to compliment his friend, the growing wrinkles at his eyes, the stubble of his beard, the mouthwatering line of muscle revealed by his boastful outfit. He licked his lips. “My vexatious tormentor. Are you headed to sleep?”

Owain saw that the question had two answers. The first was an affirmative, though he would go to his room and stare at the ceiling, perhaps retreat to the library and spend his last few hours in this realm reading more and more of foreign magic as their time grew short. The second was a negative, and perhaps he and Laslow could find somewhere that drink still flowed, and they could pretend to lose themselves in tankards while he made a show of failing to find them dates and he either made a friend of the barman or annoyed him until they were both ejected into the night. However, something inside him overflowed, and Owain found himself seeking to fight the beasts of trepidation and consideration — perhaps he had already won, and it was their blood that had filled him with their ferocious candor as he asked, “Do you know I’m in love with you?”

Laslow’s eyes blinked wide, lashes casting a flickering shadow across his cheekbones.

“Owa—Odin,” he objected. “You can’t—” He huffed, frustrated, taking to his feet. “We fight against each other with every step.” He hid his eyes in his hands and then slowly adjusted his head as he admitted aloud, “I fight against commitment with every breath.”

“When do we not fight towards a common goal — against the forces of darkness, together?” Owain asked with a small smile, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the insides of his spread knees. “My confession need not change anything between us, it certainly doesn’t mean to change anything about you. My affection has grown even as you’ve found joy and rejection with your strings of lovers. And I’ve found that I can love you — that I do,” he swallowed, “love you. I’m saying it too much now.”

“There is nothing consistent in our lives,” Inigo said, sad and distressed. He wrapped his right arm around himself, squeezing at a shoulder, too muscled to feel right going back into his old life, too scarred to hope that wherever they found themselves in two days time that there would be the peace and family he’d hoped for. “I have gone days feeling as though everything around me is temporary, and others believing that this is what is real and it is me who doesn’t belong. We nearly failed. We—”

He hesitated as Owain stood before him, reaching out carefully to take hold of either of his elbows.

“We didn’t,” Owain said, calm and sure.

Time passed. Neither man could say how much. Patiently, Owain did not force an embrace, but he did rest his temple against Inigo’s, rocking his face towards him as he whispered, “And you’ve had some consistencies in your life. And me in mine.”

He waited longer, breathing deeply while his friend calmed in his arms, and then Inigo was lifting his left hand up to Owain’s hip and the mage smiled, letting his hands creep around the small of Inigo’s back, locking them together. “If I declared that I would dedicate my life to you, very little would change … and I think that’s very telling.”

“I feel good, with you,” Inigo murmured, tucking his face into the curve of Owain’s neck, “but my trysts don’t last and you—” he bit his lips, and as they rolled back into place he felt them pout against Owain’s skin, almost a kiss, “you’re too important for me to risk in a bout of bad behavior.”

Owain snickered. “Are you asking me to make sure you don’t grow bored? I think no matter what awaits us after tomorrow, I can promise it will be interesting.” He tossed his head back, and smiled wider as Inigo admired him; it was a wonderfully new feeling. “Do you think Odin Dark would settle for less? That the tale of the Avengers of Righteous Justice would end here?”

“Avengers?” Inigo repeated, pulling away from the embrace.

“I don’t forget my friends,” Owain assured him, but Inigo continued.

“And, really, I rather hoped that my tale might end. In some manner of the word… I want to rest. I want to feel the relief that these people felt, that our parents felt when their journey was over. To find a stage to dance upon, perhaps a student to apprentice while I’m still young enough to perform.”

“Then we will find it,” Owain said with conviction, his hands on Inigo’s shoulders. “A place where Selena can be a tired old general, or an extension of nobility, where our friends are close, and our families closer still, and where I study all the magic that has ever beset us with worry — that of gods, and dragons, and travel between realms—”

“Is this why you sought to be a mage?” Inigo balked, holding the dips at Owain’s elbows.

“All to keep us safe,” Owain said cryptically, blue eyes flickering with withheld words. “I will work tirelessly to make that peaceful realm you dream of, friend.”

“I can’t expect you to vanquish evil on your own,” Inigo said, a measure of wonder on his face. A puff of air passed his lips, joy and shock and hope twisting his lips first in a frown and then in a smile. “Very well then. Together, this time. We’ll start this tale together, as we’ve always been.”

“Then—?” Owain prompted, hopeful.

“Of course,” Inigo assured him, pulling himself into Owain’s space again, this time to plant a kiss on his warm lips. “I’ve loved you too. You need only look to your side — if you truly wish to take me as I am … then you will always find me here.”

[someobscurereference]

please use this ask as an excuse to infodump about any au/headcanon/personal project you might have wanted to tell folks about recently

Ooooh, this is a huge open book, anon. And I very much appreciate the platform to do it. Let's see what I have under my hat that (I hope) I haven't spoken about before...

Semi-Erased AU

This is the title I have for it in my documents because I got inspired from the anime Erased (and some asks ask I got like 2 years ago asking me who among the Trio I thought was older/younger that I can no longer find but I Never Forgot About), but it has almost nothing to do with the original anime/manga. I'm nearly 29K into it so far and not nearly done, lol. I will be shocked if I finish before the end of the year.

However! The basic premise is it's a modern AU where Inigo (just turned 16), Severa (14 at the start and then 15 later), and Owain (12 at the start but later 13) in Ylisse get visited in the dead of night by a strange wizard man (Anankos) who pops out of a portal and begs them for help. Anankos does not elaborate on what this help is or what the Trio need to do other than they need to decide Now, they're needed in Another Country, it's going to involve some Time BS (so don't worry about your parents noticing you're gone, kids!) and he's really, really earnest about it. Inigo, unable to say no to a man so desperate and really awed at the fact Holy Shit Magic Is Real, joins Owain (who wants Adventure so bad) and Severa (who wants to be Independent and why would she say no to this crazy magical opportunity??) in helping out this strange but earnest magic man.

...Which ends up with them getting portaled to Nohr in the dead of night, given fake names, a place to live, some money, etc., told to not contact their parents by any means, and oh, right, they're starting the school year in a few weeks. Good luck!

(Inigo: Wait, you're not staying?? Anankos: Only you can do this! Goodbye! Inigo: But what are we-- Anankos: *already gone*)

(Oh, and of course Xander, Camilla, Leo, & co. also happen to attend this fancy Nohr private school the Trio are sent to. Is this related to the mysterious task Anankos has set them on? Maybe!)

I have more written than this already (again, about 29K of it) but basically it's part slice-of-life coming-of-age, part teenage romance, part magical adventure, etc. Inigo, Severa, & Owain are two teenagers and a 12 year old living in this house with no parental supervision, and they are Not Friends at the start of this fic, lol. The circumstances would be hard even if they were besties going into this mess, but they're definitely not. They make friends (and crushes) with others! And rivals. And acquaintances. And their relationships with others (and each other) will change over the course of the fic! But they're not besties at the start, lol. Oh, and POVs alternate by the month! (Fic is divided into month sections. Ex: Inigo narrates August, Severa narrates September, etc. )

I have the general plan for why Anankos brought the Trio there, what's going to happen at the climax, how their relationships will change, etc. and a Bunch Of Notes for everyone's ages and background characters and whatnot. The plot just needs to be written out in scene format. However! Since it will be such a long time before it gets finished, here is some snippets from scenes that I have already written as a teaser :3

(1)

September

“Why is the ten-year-old balancing a checkbook?” Xander asked flatly.

“He’s actually twelve,” Laslow corrected as Owain swung his legs under the table and scratched another wobbly number onto the page. “He just looks young. Don’t worry. He does this all the time.”

Somehow, Xander looked even less impressed by this. Laslow—and how strange was it that he was still getting used to that name a full month after this whole endeavor had begun—had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing or otherwise commenting on Xander’s early developing wrinkles.

“Children should not be worrying about their family’s finances,” said Xander. “They—"

Wrinkling his nose, Owain blew a raspberry at them from the kitchen table. “I’m not a kid!”

(2)

August

The strange, inhuman Anankos came the evening before his sixteenth birthday in what Laslow—then Inigo—had graciously decided not to call a kidnapping.

Inigo had been in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard a strange noise he could only describe as the sound of air being sucked out of a vacuum. He turned his head just in time to see a flash of blue light and watch a tall hooded figure step out of a rift in time and space in the middle of his bedroom.

He choked on the toothpaste and bent over the sink to cough white foam onto the porcelain.

“I’m so sorry for startling you,” said the hooded figure. “Please, drink some water.”

...

The hooded figure said, “Wait—”

“Dad!” Inigo called down the stairs, making the hooded stranger flinch. “Did you summon any ghosts or demons in the house recently?”

The reply was almost immediate—a returned shout up the stairs. “Nope! Your mother forbid that as of last month!”

There was a bit of shuffling on the first floor.

“Why? Is there a ghost or demon up there?”

Inigo looked over his shoulder and very seriously asked the figure, “Are you a ghost or a demon?”

The figure paused for a moment, as if that wasn’t a totally reasonable question to ask at this point. “No. I am… not either of those.”

Very reassuring.

“Just checking!” Inigo called downstairs.

“Alrighty! Let me know if that changes!”

“Will do!”

(3)

“Nice to meet you,” Keaton repeated. “This here is Fang, Shadow, and Casper.”

He pointed to the very large, very middling, and very tiny set of three dogs that had accosted Selena. All three of them perked up when their names were called.

She looked at the animals, a bit curious despite herself, and then point to the largest dog—a huge mutt with shaggy white hair who looked like it could easily fit Selena’s whole head in its mouth. “That one is Fang?”

“No, no.” Keaton pointed to the chihuahua. “She’s Fang. Shadow is the black one, and the big fellow is Casper.”

Fang looked like she weighed about three whole ounces soaking wet.

“…Okay,” said Selena.

(4)

“Hark! Who goes there?”

Other students leaving the school were turning their heads, looking for the source of the overly loud, barely-into-puberty voice. Selena’s stomach sank at the sight of the middle schooler standing at the bus stop.

Odin pointed at them dramatically. “Is that Selena of the fiery skies that I spy? Partaking the journey back home, are you? And who is this?”

“Oh!” Camilla startled, sounding horribly delighted. “Is this your little brother?”

People were still looking. A pair of teen boys ribbed each other, and one girl giggled to her friends, shooting glances between Odin and Selena.

She forced a laugh. “Haha! No! Absolutely not!”

“Selena and I do not share the bond of blood,” Odin sniffed.

“What a shame,” said Camilla, and she seemed genuinely regretful. “I have a little brother of my own. I thought they could be friends. Leo could use the company.”

“Leo?” Odin dropped the pose he was striking in surprise. “The same Leo who always has his head in a book? And goes to school here?”

Camilla brightened. “Oh, you know him? Do you share a class?”

[signetxego]

Okay so. I was thinking about things. Things being the flintseol dorm story. And idk now i’m Dying To Talk About It so here is a very detailed crash course on the Boys PLEASE talk to me abt it im begging you hit up my dms i’ll marry you

Under the cut for obscenely long post for smth with no actual writing.

When Ace loses his alchemy homework, Epel advices he goes to his classmate Blaise for help, who can find anything if he gets a good description of it. Ace, Epel, Deuce, Yuu and Grim find Blaise, who uses his unique magic to locate the lost homework.

Deuce is really impressed, and tells Blaise that a magic like that is super valuable, but Blaise becomes downcast and explains that he can’t find things unless he has a clear idea of what he’s looking for in his minds eye, so it only really helps him retrieve small things that he’s already seen. It never works for the thinks he’s looking for.

Blaise goes on to say that the dorm he is in, Flintseol, has a long-standing legend, one that has puzzled students since the founding of the dorm. The first dorm leader, before he left the school, hid a stash of treasure somewhere on the grounds, and a trail of clues to locate it. Over the years, nobody has been able to solve the puzzles and locate the treasure.

Grim and Ace her excited at the prospect of treasure, and ask Blaise if they can help him look for it, and split it between them, however Blaise gets annoyed and says that a true pirate doesn’t accept help, and he can do it by himself. He storms off, but Ace isn’t willing to give up on a legendary stash of treasure hidden, and suggests that they try and find it without Blaise’s help.

After school, they go to the library, to do some research and see if they can find any hints on where the first clue is. As they talk, they are overheard by a strange boy with a mechanical eye, who joins their conversation, and tells them it’s been years since students from another dorm have tried to find Flintseol’s hidden treasure vault. Yuu mentions that it’s odd, since surely students from other dorms, like Azul or Ruggie, would want to get their hands on something so valuable. The cyborg laughs, and tells them that the first clue is hidden in the Flintseol dorms, and it’s protected fiercely. An unseemly fate awaited all students who tried to break in and steal it, and so eventually they all gave up.

He says that over years, clues have been found and lost, their whereabouts gone forever. Pirates can’t be expected to work together, especially when treasure is involved. He encourages them to do their best finding the treasure, but once he leaves Yuu decides he sounded quite patronising.

The next day, the gang decide to sneak into the Flintseol dormitory, having stolen some uniforms from Vil’s stash in the pomefiore dorm. However, as soon as they set foot inside they find that it’s nothing like any other dorm, and they struggle to find their way around the complicated layout without disrupting any students. They’re saved from a run-in with some delinquents by Blaise, who pulls them aside after a time limit fight and asks them what they’re doing at his dormitory.

Blaise tries to convince them to leave, but Ace and Grim are determined to find the clue for the treasure. Blaise is torn, but eventually decides to sneak them up to the port, an area at the top of the dorm where most of the ships are docked. At the end of the largest of the rope bridges, is a single mirror carved into the floor, the first clue.

After looking around the mirrors on campus, Blaise thinks they should sneak into the dorm leaders room, since a mirror hangs in there. Blaise picks the lock and he and Yuu sneak in whilst the others stand guard.

They find nothing around the mirror, but Blaise’s attention is drawn to a folder slightly open. Going through it, he and Yuu find some old photos, moving back into sketches and portraits from the past at NRC. it seems to be the dorm leaders personal investigations into the treasure stash. They go from very old to very recent, and there are some of the current flintseol students.

Meanwhile, outside, Deuce and Epel are spotted by Inigo, who they mistakenly believe to be the dorm leader due to his strict way of speaking to them. They try to stall him, but he quickly realises they’re not members of his dorm, and drags them by the ears down the corridor, where he sees Blaise and Yuu leave Finnian’s room. He says that as much as he can’t stand finnian, he has to turn them in for breaking the key rule of the dorm, respect the captain above all else.

Inigo drags the group into the common room, and loudly announces that there are intruders in the dorm, and the dorm leader needs to deal with them. The commotion draws a huge crowd, and inigo uses his unique magic to trap the perpetrators in front of a portrait of a pirate holding out his hand, after Grim tries to make a runner.

Finnian appears, and Yuu is like ‘oh i thought i recognised u st the library it’s bc ur the dorm leader and were at the entrance ceremony. He laughs and seems pleased to see Yuu and the idiot gang, he gives them a lecture abt going through his stuff, although blaise retorts that he shouldn’t have left it lying around so carelessly. Importantly, he tells them that trying to follow the trail of clues will be pointless, since over the years students have taken clues for themselves and hidden them.

This angers a lot of the spectators, saying that the treasure must exist somewhere and they can definitely find it. Finnian laughs at their optimism, and tells them that their mindless enthusiasm is worthless without the drive to use your brain. It’s why none of them have overthrown him as dorm leader. At least Blaise was able to find the best hint there is left in the school.

He touches the threads binding them, and they shimmer and melt. He then tells them to start running, and not to drop the picture folder. Theres a rhythmic thingy where the idiots run away from the rest of the dorm, chasing them to try and get the folder for themselves.

They get split up as they run, and Yuu ends up with Grim and Blaise. After settling down, Yuu contemplates on how Finnian seemed totally different to when they met him in the library yesterday. Blaise says that his mood is pretty unpredictable, and he doesn’t take anything seriously. Grim asks what finnian meant when he said ‘none of you have managed to replace me as dorm leader’ and Blaise explains unique way Flintseol dork choses it’s leader. Apparently, the treasure hidden in the dorm was the puzzle set by the first dorm leader, so technically it’s the ultimate test to be ‘worthy’ of the dorm, but nobody really cares abt that, they just want that sweet gold.

Grim agrees that he just wants the gold, and prompts the other two to go through the folder from finnian’s room, to see if they can find out what he meant by ‘the biggest clue’ being hidden in there. They find an annotated excerpt from a diary, written by the first leader of the dorm. What catches their attention most is the annotation ‘surrender your physical riches to the spirit of adventure’.

At this point, Inigo finds them, and tells Blaise he always hides in this cupboard when he wants to get out of chores. Since they’re not technically breaking rules anymore, since Finnian let them go, he’s not going to fight them. Blaise shows him the excerpt from inside the folder, and explains that he’s not going to give up, and that he doesn’t think finding the treasure is impossible at all. If the dorm leader thinks that, then he’s not fit to uphold the spirit of this dorm at all.

Inigo starts to say something, but bites his tongue, and sighs, saying it’s not really any of his business as long as the day to day life of the dorm is ticking over smoothly. He explains the meaning behind the ‘adventurous spirit’ that Flintseol is founded on. The one-eyed cyborg who they follow the example of was a legendary pirate who followed a treasure map to the greatest stash of treasure in the galaxy, but in the end he gave it up to save a young shipmate who was travelling with him. Afterwards, he stopped seeking treasure, and traveled the universe alone, not bound by materialistic possessions, and instead basking in the wonders of the galaxy. Contrary to the popular image they portray, Flintseol aren’t pirates, they’re supposed to be explorers. Although, that ideal has been lost over time, as the dorms obsession with finding the rumoured stash of treasure has shown.

Blaise finds it upsetting that Inigo is so disillusioned with the other students in the dorm, and says that he never thought Finnian would turn out to be that type of person.

Inigo tells Blaise that Finnian isn’t someone he should look up to, he’s someone who can be pretty terrifying and toys with people to get what he wants from them. He’s clever, and Inigo gets the feeling he intended to leave that folder lying on his bed for someone to find, but he’s not sure why. Knowing Finnian, if there was a clue in there, he’d be able to crack it himself.

Suddenly, there’s a huge commotion outside, and the four rush over to the nearest window to see the rest of the idiots getting into a fight outside. Inigo rolls his eyes and says that they’re totally on track to getting killed, and instructs Blaise, Yuu and Grim to stay put whilst he goes and gets them.

Once he leaves, Blaise notices how quiet it is inside. It seems the commotion caused is so large that almost all of the Flintseol students have gone to watch. Yuu thinks it’s unnerving how bloodthirsty they are, and Blaise admits that things can be a bit rowdy at times. He looks down at the folder again, and reiterates how determined he is to find the treasure, and explains to Yuu why he was so eager to join Flintseol after Finnian overthrew his older brother as dorm leader. He wants more than anything to prove his worth, and puts his determination into his unique magic to locate ‘the spirit of adventure’ mentioned in the journal. To his shock, a green thread does appear at the end of his finger.

He and the ramshackle duo follow it to the main lounge where they had spoken to Finnian earlier, where it connects to the outstretched hand of the pirate in the portrait they had seen earlier. Blaise realises this pirate isn’t actually a pirate, he’s supposed to be the young shiphand who the cyborg gave up the stash of treasure to protect.

After thinking it over, Blaise solves the puzzle. As the cyborg achieved happiness through surrendering his ‘treasure’ to this boy, they must do the same to find the hidden treasure.

But what constitutes a treasure? Blaise admits that even though he is very wealthy, he doesn’t have anything that could be considered treasure. He tries handing money to the portrait, but nothing happens. Yuu suggests that maybe you need to give up a personal treasure, something that it hurts to part with. Blaise thinks of what it might hurt him to part with, and finally settles on an old, rusty compass. He explains that it was a gift from his grandfather, and was supposed to always point him back home, so he could explore to his hearts content without worrying about getting lost. He places it in the portraits hand, and the portrait moves to grip the compass. Blaise jumps away and the portrait stretches and turns into a huge door on the wall.

Going through the door and down some steps, they find a huge chamber filled to the brim with gold and jewels. Truly, a legendary stash of treasure. They take a moment to be happy, until the rest of the idiots come down the stairs and O.O at the treasure as well.

Grim asks why they went and got in such a huge fight, and Ace explains that it wasn’t their fault. They ran right into that creepy robotic dorm leader, who used wind magic exactly like his to attack some nearby students, and vanished as soon as the fighting started.

As if on cue, Finnian comes down the stairs behind the idiots, waving happily. He congratulated Blaise on solving the puzzle, even if he did need an awful lot of help from his dear dorm leader. Finnian says that he had discovered the secret to finding the treasure at the end of last year, and had debated over his to get a hold of it. The last puzzle was really unfair. The point of the trail of puzzles was to hammer in the belief that experiences are worth far more than material possessions. To achieve the ‘spirit of adventure’ and uncover the most sacred mystery of the dorm, you’d have to give up something physically important to you.

Of course, it was probably stupid of the first dorm leader to expect a pirate to change their ways. He didn’t care about the experience of a treasure hunt, or the reputation it would give him, he wanted the treasure! He wasn’t going to play along with the puzzle, and give something up, so he tricked Blaise into doing it for him. From telling Yuu and the others where to find the first clue, to leaving his folder out and hinting at the clues hidden inside, and finally to clearing out the dorm by starting a fight, so that when Blaise opened up the treasure vault, nobody else would be around to intrude as he snuck in after him.

Blaise is understandably quite angry, and says that was a horrible thing to give up his compass for. Besides, what does Finnian hope to achieve with this treasure? If everyone knows that he wasn’t the one that found it, what does he get from it?

Finnian doesn’t answer, as a loud rumbling sound behind in the background. Shouts can be heard above them. Finnian guesses that the first lot of students got bored of Inigo’s lectures and returned to the lounge, to see the newfound door. Sadly for them, they can’t get in, since his unique magic is holding the door shut. However, Blaise notes that a few students couldn’t be making such a noise by themselves, and when rocks start clattering down from the ceiling he realises the treasure room must be about to collapse down. They try to get through the door, but it’s been turned into a wall of silver. Blaise shouts through, and manages to communicate to Inigo on the other side what’s happening. Inigo tells them that if they break Finnian’s concentration, his unique magic will reverse.

They fight Finnian and get the door back to normal, and Inigo and the rest of Flintseol pour in. Finnian is trying to gather the treasure, and Inigo urges him to leave because theres no way he can take all the treasure before the room collapses. Finnian uses his unique magic to turn the walls of the chamber to silver, and try to forcibly keep it upright. As he expands his magic, the silver begins to cover the floor and grow up some students feet, pinning them in place. After exerting all this magical power and arguing with Inigo, Finnian overblots, and the squad have to fight him before he runs out of magic and the chamber fully collapses.

After the overblot we unlock Finnian’s Tragic Backstory TM, which starts with him as a tiny little kid helping his father care for his ailing mother, in a very run down, poor area of the city. His father promises that even though things are hard, as long as they all stay together, things will be okay, and gives Finnian a tiny, hand-knitted teddy bear to accompany him as he cares for his mother. Later, his mother dies, and as Finnian sits with her in her last moments, his father gets up and walks away. Finnian tries to run after him, but can’t find him, and when he returns his mother has passed away. He decides that whatever his father said was false, clearly ‘staying together’ and ‘family’ were not all that mattered. He left because they were not enough for him, and because all humans are selfish and want material goods to prove themselves. Finnian took to growing up on the streets, amassing as much wealth as he could through gambling and stealing, getting richer and richer every time he betrayed someone’s trust and took what they had for his own. The only way to be happy had to be through selfishness, right? But still, he didn’t feel any happier than he had when his mother was alive. So, he must be doing something wrong. He obviously didn’t have enough yet. Not enough money, not enough possessions. Not enough rare trinkets collected from across the land. He must not have been selfish enough yet, for simply no amount of treasure in the world could make him feel any happier.

When he wakes up, Blaise, Inigo and the idiots have dragged him out of the chamber, which has completely collapsed. Inigo scolds him for being so stupid and losing control, when he’s supposed to be the one who always has *everything* under control. Finnian comments that on retrospect, he should’ve predicted the chamber being set to self destruct. Why would a quest about giving up material possessions give you a huge hoard of treasure at the end?

He apologises to Blaise for losing his compass, and admits that the real reason he didn’t open the portrait himself was because he doesn’t have anything of value to give away, nothing he’s tried has worked. Blaise thinks back to when he was in Finnian’s room, and remembers seeing an old, knitted bear lying by the bed, and asks why he didn’t try something like that. Finnian says he only kept the bear to remind him not to get too comfortable around people, but realises that the real reason he hung onto it was because it reminded him of the happy times when he had a family, and all this time, it had really been his most valued possession. It’s enough to make him laugh, which causes him to fall backwards again, and get dragged off by Inigo to the infirmary.

As Blaise goes to follow, he catches a glint of gold in the corner of the room. The portrait on the floor is broken, and behind the frame sits his compass, untouched, and with a note behind it, old and worn, reading ‘congratulations for solving the puzzle. continue to search for adventure and happiness in the skies, and stay true to yourself.’ he pockets the message, and decides to show it to Finnian once he’s better.

A few days later, the idiots are invited back to Flintseol by Finnian, who has made a full recovery, and is as lively as ever before. Grim grumbles about how he’s hardly changed following his overblot, and is still a bit of a weirdo, and Inigo sighs and says that’s just his personality. Finnian invites them out, and the group fly on their brooms/hoverboard to the top of a huge cliff, where the view of the starts is completely beautiful, and Inigo informs them that hopefully they’ll be able to come and visit the dorm more often now that students have no need to protect the clues to the treasure. Although, he decides, looking over at Finnian, that whilst someone so unpredictable is dorm leader, they and he as well would probably be safer keeping themselves at arms length.

And tadaaah everything is fixed and the mystery has been solved!!!

[hecallsmehischild]

Recent Media Consumed

Books

The Princess Bride by William Goldman. I have mixed feelings about this book. I am torn between admiring the writing device the author employs and being annoyed by it every time it crops up. The idea is that the writer, Goldman, is actually presenting you with an abridged version of an antiquated Florinese novel while cutting out all the “boring political satire” bits and only keeping the action/adventure/romance portions just like his father did when reading the novel to him as a child. The author character continually interjects himself and this was distracting to me in a way that Lemony Snicket’s work was not (I cannot tell you why). Also there’s an awful lot of uncomfortable racial depictions in the original novel. Also I hated Buttercup’s guts, she truly comes across as someone who doesn’t deserve anyone, MUCH LESS WESTLEY. My end impression was that there are some parts of this novel that really elaborate on scenes in the movie and give an interesting depth to them (for example, we really get to know Inigo Montoya’s father and when he dies, it’s a character that we the reader can mourn as well) but in my estimation, the movie adapted the book marvelously and actually is one of the rare movies that I would say is overall better than the source material.

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. Second read, I bought my own copy this time. This is such a chick flick book but it’s soul food for me because goshdarnit a novel took fanfiction writing seriously and it’s so comforting to read. It also re-inspires me to keep pegging away at my fanfic.

The Dancing Realms series by Sharon Hinck. Hidden Current and Forsaken Island are written by one of my current favorite Christian fantasy writers. This is her second developed fantasy world, and while there are some things that I didn’t care for as much (I thought some bits of characterization didn’t work as well in this series as her previous one) the world she built is really cool and there are moments in the story where real glimpses of something deep and beautiful bleed through. My favorite set of themes from this work is the damage that can be done by elevating one sort of gift above all the rest OR by losing yourself entirely to your gifting and seeking only the pleasure derived from your gift without any grounding. I’m not synopsizing very well, but it’s worth a read and I look forward to the upcoming third book, Windward Shore.

Momo by Michael Ende. I wish this story were as well known as The Neverending Story, which Michael Ende also wrote. This novel wielded a surgeon’s knife on my fears of being meaningless and wasting my time and my life. It’s one of those novels that really has something important to say about life, I think. I want to add this into my queue of books to read on my Youtube channel, when I get an opening.

Given by Taylor Nandi. The cover looked amazing, and I was intrigued that Wattpad now has its own publishing press. However I was (I really am sorry) disappointed. I had to put it down within a few pages. There is very much a “tell, not show” feel to the writing and I can’t keep on with it.

Movies

Soul. PIXAR KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK AGAIN, REPEAT, PIXAR KNOCKED IT OUT OF THE PARK AGAIN ON BASICALLY EVERY LEVEL. The visuals and character designs were fantastic, the messages beautiful, the characters believable, relatable, and fully embraceable. And every five or ten minutes, Sergey and I would pause and discuss implications and theorize about different parts of the movie and lore which turned a ninety minute watch into a three hour one which made it EVEN BETTER (for me). This is THAT kind of movie. Hats off to you, Pixar.

It’s A Wonderful Life. It must have been well over ten years since I’ve seen this movie. First, I was shocked to see it has been colorized. Second, the colorizing actually helps me catch a few fantastic details I would never have noticed (like Mr. Potter’s giant gold-framed painting of himself in his own office). Also there’s so much adult context I missed watching this as a kid, it’s fantastic to re-watch it and get so much more out of it this time around. I don’t think all “great classics” deserve their crowns, but this one does for sure.

Batman: Hush. Fun! Not much else to say. Just, fun to watch.

Collective films I binge re-watched for whimsy value: Klaus, The Little Prince (recent re-imagining), Mary Poppins Returns, The Lego Move 2.

Shows

24. So I finally finished all (the good) seasons, 1-8. Talk about an emotional meat grinder. This is possibly one of the most well written, well acted TV shows I’ve ever seen in my life, and it just. Never. Stops. Punching you in the gut. I had to take massive cartoon binge-watching breaks in between seasons. But it was worth it. This is an amazing show for many reasons. One of the things that stands out most to me is how it tackles the post 9/11 racial tensions from almost every angle. *announcer’s voice* Now featuring, that time a Muslim was the bad guy, and then that OTHER time when a Muslim was the valiant head of the Counter Terrorist Unit tracking all the terrorists down, and that OTHER time when you were certain someone was being wrongfully accused of terrorism by a dumb racist but it turns out the dumb racist was right and you hated him for being right because he was right but all his reasons were wrong, and that OTHER time the Big Bad was from China/Russia/Africa/our own dang government/our big corporations, and that OTHER time when we got a whole scene of an Imam guiding our protagonist in a deathbed prayer that was so moving I was choking up, etc etc etc. There is no black and white, it is all shades of gray, and every moral you ever held will be challenged in the course of watching this show.

Batman Beyond (3 seasons + Movie). Kinda cheesy, kinda campy, and I will punch the next person who says “Schway” out loud. But it was fun to watch. And some individual episodes were really excellent, I think. Also Re: Return of the Joker movie, HOLY CRAP.

DuckTales (reboot) 3rd season. It felt… like they ran out of ideas? Like they ran out of caring? The first couple seasons were spectacular, but it kind of petered out at the end, there. Still, the first couple seasons were fantastic.

Animaniacs (reboot) 1st season. IT’S TIME FOR ANIMANIACS. THEY’RE STILL ZANY TO THE MAX. IT’S LIKE THEY NEVER LEFT, AND THEIR COMEDY’S STILL DEFT, THEY’RE ANIMANIACS!!!

[qvill-s]

#1 from "right to the good parts" with Inigo?? (_>\\\\

NOTES: YELL HEAH BABEEEYYY !!! i’ve had this ask in my head for a while now. also ! the briefly-mentioned object of inigo’s attentions in this imagine is a female, but rest assured that the reader themselves is gender-neutral! i hope it doesn’t put anyone off uwu

WARNINGS: inigo being flirty (as per usual) and running from the repercussions (as per usual); some angst but it ends well i promise

W.C.: 1.9k words

inigo + “i have you shoved against the wall but now i can’t stop looking at your mouth” under the cut !!!

“Quick, in here,” you hiss, shoving Inigo into the first darkened alley you see. It’s cramped, a  trailing and winding path between the tall structures of the buildings that border it, but you push through, traveling further and further into the darkness until even the lights of the streetlamps barely touch the shadows at your feet. Soon, the two of you find yourselves tucked into the smallest of alcoves, in the space between what seems to be two houses hushed with sleep, face to face and chest to chest. There’s a brush of fingers against your neck, a hand settling into the wall behind you. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, a hushed breath that rushes through the hair at your temple. He shifts, head turning the slightest bit to the side to eye the entrance of your little hideaway. “Think we’ve lost him?”

“Maybe.�� You turn your head to do the same, and find your ear near pressed to his chest. You jerk back, a little too quickly, a little too harshly, and slam your head against the stone. 

At least, you would have, if it hadn’t been for Inigo’s hand cradling the back of your head, cushioning it against the potential impact. Through what little light the moon provides, you see his face twist into a wince. “Careful,” he chides, untangling his fingers from your hair to rest his hand where it was before, the wall beside your neck, his wrist brushing your shoulder every time you so much as breathed.

You’re certain that your face, burning bright red with the blood that rushes under your skin, is one he could see, a shining beacon in the dark for all the feelings and emotions and thoughts you’ve pushed deep into your traitorous heart. You’re certain that he sees, that he knows, and you’re desperate enough to mask them with a scathing remark of, “I could’ve said the same to you, earlier.”

He doesn’t withdraw—after all, where could he go? The space the two of you have to move is limited as it is—but you feel him tense up in front of you. You can feel the clench in the fingers beside your neck, hear the harsh set of his jaw in your ear, and it makes you feel even worse. “You said you were going to get drinks.”

“I was,” he replies, almost indignantly.

“But you flirted with the barmaid instead.”

A pause. “I did.”

“And now we’re here.” You sigh. “Forced to hide in the shadows because you couldn’t help but flirt with the barmaid and get her father angry.”

You can’t help the bitterness that surges through you as you acknowledge your situation. You honestly should have known better. You should’ve known better than to trust Inigo alone, much less in the company of such a blushing beauty. The barmaid was pretty, no doubt about it, with plump cheeks that reddened under his flirtatious attentions, catching the length of her lashes against its curve as she coyly avoided his gaze. 

You should’ve known better, you tell yourself, you should have known better than to fall for Inigo’s cloying words, his honeyed voice, the sweet smell of his flowers—especially when he has never given any of them to you.

You press your back against the cobbled exterior of one of the houses, leaving as much space between the two of you as you could have. You can no longer bear the idea of touching him in such close quarters, of having his nose brush yours every so often, or feeling the ends of his hair feather against your cheeks. Your heart aches enough knowing that he could not want you, that he could never want you, that he’ll leave you for the first pretty thing he’ll see—

“What was that?” Inigo’s whisper breaks you out of your spiraling thoughts, an alert murmur dashed with the slightest bit of panic, just in time to hear the ominous sound of footsteps.

“Is it the barkeep?” You ask. Immediately after the words leave your lips, you know your questioning is futile. 

“How could I know?”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” he hisses, though not unkindly. He leans closer, resting more of his weight on the hand beside your neck, bringing his body closer to yours. “Just, stay quiet and maybe he won’t notice us,” he murmurs lowly, a breath that caresses the shell of your ear and steals the breath from your lungs. 

You nod your affirmation, and you’re acutely aware of how the action brushes your nose against his neck. You pretend not to notice the slight shiver that wracks his body against yours. You’re so close—almost too close, you think, because you feel the slightest pressure of his wrist against your collarbone, his knuckles behind your ear, his lashes on your cheek, his breath warming the junction between your neck and your shoulder.

You tilt your head upwards, just a little bit, just a touch, and you lock eyes with deep pools of warm brown. They remind you of dark chocolate, of the time he picked up such a sweet only to have it melt in his hand, of how his tongue darted out from between his lips and licked his fingers clean.

“I have an idea,” you tell him before you could think, voice barely a breath over a whisper. He quirks a brow, an action you manage to catch despite the dim lighting and the shock of hair that falls against his forehead. Your fingers travel up from your sides to the collar of his shirt, curling into the fabric. “Follow my lead.”

You pull him down, your lips meeting his. The footsteps get closer and closer, loud enough that you can hear them pound against the stone path in time to the beat of your heart. In an effort to make this scene more believable—this is all you're doing this is all you're doing this is all you're doing—you slide a hand up to his neck, pushing against it with the slightest pressure to encourage him to come closer. There is but a moment of hesitation, the slightest pause in his actions that almost makes you pull away, before he responds in turn, tilting his head just so, his nose brushing against the side of yours as he finds a better angle to fit your lips together. A hand catches your hip and tugs, forcing the two of you to meet closer and closer, in spite of the little space that lies between the two of you. You try not to think about how good his lips feel against yours.

When the two of you finally break apart in the need for air, there is nothing but silence, broken only by labored breaths and the splash of water against the stone as it falls from the tile of a roof. His expression is hidden in shadow, hidden from what little light brushes against his face. You’re still painfully aware of how close the two of you are—nose to nose, your hand on the back of his neck, his hand on your hip—and how close the two of you continue to stay. You blink, driving away the daze that comes from kissing the person you’ve been pining over for months and having them kiss back, only to be hit with the sudden realization of what kind of situation your “idea” has put the two of you in. 

You begin untangling yourself from Inigo, separating your fingers from the soft strands of his hair, releasing his now crumpled collar from your grip. You try to move as slowly as you can, trying to savor what most likely is the last moment of closeness you’ll ever get with him. You don’t know where the two of you stand, and you’re not so sure that you want to know. You’re not so sure that you want to hear him let you down gently, to hear him say that he thought of you as nothing more than a friend, or, gods forbid, to hear him say that he already found someone else. 

“I think that we should start heading back,” you tell him quietly, not meeting his eyes. You push back against his chest lightly, trying to get him to move back enough to give you space to leave. He doesn’t budge. He even goes so far as to close a hand around one of your wrists. “I’m serious, Inigo.” You tug at your arm to get it out of his grip. “The others are probably worried about us and wondering where we are—”

“Why did you kiss me?” He asks, cutting you off with the one question you didn’t want to answer.

“It was for cover,” you tell him, lying through the clench of your jaw.

He shakes his head. “It didn’t feel that way.”

“Well, it was, Inigo. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

“I want you to tell me the truth,” he says, a foreign note of seriousness in his tone as a hand reaching up to cup your jaw. The gesture is almost tender, a soft caress of his thumb against the line of your chin, at odds with the hard tone of his voice. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I don’t— I don’t know.” Your eyes dart away from his figure entirely, choosing instead to look down at the path at your feet. There’s a pressure that builds behind your eyes with each swipe of his thumb against your skin. He’s still touching you, his hand resting fully against your neck, your collarbone, and you don’t think you can take him being so affectionate with you when you know that he doesn’t feel the same. You reach a hand up, closing around his wrist in the same way he did to yours, stopping the movement of his fingers. “Please, don’t.”

He stills in response to your whispered plea, but he does not move his hand. 

“Please don’t be so kind to me,” you continue, trying to tug his hand away from your face. “I know that you know how I feel, and I know that you don’t feel the same, so you don’t have to force yourself to be nice to me.”

“How would you know how I feel?” He asks, punctuating his reproachful question with the syllables of your name. He pauses, sighs a breath that warms your skin, then adds, “I have yet to tell you that I feel the same.”

You finally meet his gaze, expecting to find the chill of forced affection decorating his face. Instead, you find that your skepticism is shattered by the truth that shines in his expression, in the warmth that you find swimming in the dark color of his eyes, in the fond smile that quirks the corners of his lips skyward. Still, you can’t help it when you ask, “You mean it?”

“Every word.” He affirms, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. You turn your head, catching his lips for a more passionate bout of affection before he can pull too far away. 

“We really should head back,” you tell him, still a little breathless from the kiss. “I meant it when I said they were probably worried about us.”

“We probably should.” He sighs, a disappointing sounded thing, before his fingers catch yours and lock them together. “I say we take the scenic route, though, going back. If they’ve waited this long, they could wait a few more minutes. There’s a nice little flower field up on the hill, if you’d like to see it.”

You smile. “I would love to.”

[chubbyheroesworthyheroes]

🐷 With Laslow! There's a great moment where he's a big feedee to Peri's feeder so fun to be had there

When Anankos had come to Ylisse, asking for help to save his home, it hadn’t taken much convincing to get Inigo, Severa and Owain to agree to give him their aid. After seeing Grima defeated, and hearing what Anankos could tell them of his dragon half, the three couldn’t help but see the similarities in this other realm’s plight. A dragon gone mad in another life had taken everything from them, and having saved their futures in this world, helping to save others from the same sort of pain felt only right to them.

They had to change their names and their attire to blend in, but upon crossing the bridge between space and time, something had gone a little…haywire for Inigo – or, Laslow, he supposed he should get used to going by that now. 

It wasn’t anything horrible, really, he just…Well, to put it plainly, he came out the other end a little mixed up. It was terribly embarrassing, realizing that he had the ears and tail of a pig. Laslow wasn’t a vain person, but he did think himself rather charming to look at, and this surely wouldn’t help his already abysmal track record with women. They got no explanation for why this had happened from Anankos, but, luckily enough, Owain – now Odin – was able to hide the offending features with a glamour, as he called it – essentially, it was a spell that would make him look just as he had before they traveled over from Ylisse.

It had worked surprisingly grand for most of their time in Nohr, to the point where Laslow had practically forgotten about it, but a hitch cropped up eventually…

As the conflicts between Nohr and Hoshido hit a fever pitch – and Valla came into play – Laslow had become quite close to his fellow retainer, Peri. As with most of his interactions with those of the fairer sex, it hadn’t gone completely smooth. Peri was an incredibly unique person, and they both had some very hit or miss moments before they eventually hit the sweet spot with each other.

And, boy, what a sweet spot it was!

Outside of being utterly vicious on the battlefield, Peri was a master of cooking. She could handle anything in the kitchen with ease and glee, and once they were wed and there was less fighting for her to take part in, Peri took to the kitchen to get her energy out. It helped her curb her tendency to maim servants, something that Laslow stood very firm on not being a good thing, and gave her an outlet for the anxieties of her past. As a result, they had very few servants around, especially when it came to the kitchens; they mostly handled all the work to be done in their own home, so there was rarely a need for anyone else to help around the place.

Of course, on account of spending so much more time in the kitchen, it seemed a great deal of their relationship revolved around the incredible dishes Peri would make. She’d often excitedly tell Laslow what she had planned for the day, and he’d do his best to make the whole meal feel like a special event – it was like they’d never stopped courting after marriage.

Peri never did anything by halves, however, and this is where that previously mentioned hitch comes in…

Overenthusiasm in the kitchen led to Peri making way too much food for just the two of them. Laslow often did his best to eat as much as he could, but he wasn’t the type to really eat more than two servings at a meal. He didn’t want his darling wife to think that he disliked anything she made – which was true, he honestly loved every meal she’d cooked for him – so he tried to push his stomach to take in more at every meal, much to Peri’s gleeful encouragement. In the sense of taste, it wasn’t an issue; Laslow would eat her cooking nonstop, if he could, simply for the tastes alone! It was how rich and dense everything was that made it so difficult…

After every meal – breakfast, lunch, dinner – Laslow felt like he’d swallowed a lead ball. An incredibly delicious lead ball, but a lead ball all the same. He’d usually end up beached in bed by the end of the day, moaning and groaning as he tried to rub some relief into his overstuffed belly.

And, really, there was nothing else to call it but a belly now. Where before he’d had a trim, lithe physique, the past few months had seen his middle round out steadily with every heavy meal he ate. Of course, the rest of him seemed to be following with this trend; his ass and thighs had plumped up as well, a small swell of a double chin and even some jiggle to his arms. What else he’d started to notice, after every meal, is that the spell Odin had cast on him seemed to flicker away more and more. It had been hardly noticeable at first, just a flash of there and then gone again, but as time went on and Peri continued to encourage him to eat more and more of her food, those dreaded pig features were coming back full force.

Laslow had done his best to keep his ears and tail from his wife hidden, but Peri was more observant than she let on, and he tended to get so wrapped up in their meals that he didn’t notice the way her gaze would be drawn to those oddly cute features of his. She loved to see him enjoying her food, and what could be better than spoiling her little piggy with the best food she could make, day in and day out?

All she had to do was get her darling husband to accept what he was…

Laslow sighed to himself as he stared hard at his reflection in the mirror. He really was leaning in a bit too much with this happy wife, happy life thing. He’d gone from chubby to downright fat, his clothes getting harder and harder to squeeze into. Not only that, of course, but those blasted pig ears and curly tail were back full force. He’d have to see if Odin could repeat the spell he’d used before, but it was a bit difficult to get into contact with his theatrical friend.

“Hey, Las, I have a special treat for you~!”

Laslow jumped at Peri’s voice, immediately pulling his hands away from where he’d been inspecting his sagging belly and rotund buttocks. “O-Oh, do you now?” he stammered, startled by her sudden appearance in the room.

“Mhm, why don’t you go lay down on the bed. Get nice and comfortable for me,” Peri purred in his ear, steering him away from the mirror and over to their bed. Her fingers sunk in just a bit as she held onto his arm, making her burst out into an excited grin as she practically shoved him backwards onto the mattress.

“Hey!” Laslow yelped in surprise, cringing a little when the bed creaked at his weight being tossed onto it. “What sort of treat is this…?”

Grinning widely, Peri snapped her fingers. A small parade of people came in through the door, carrying in what had to amount to a mountain of food; platters, plates, bowls – all piled high and overfull with food. Laslow squirmed as the bountiful feast that Peri had put together was laid out around him on the bed, the servants quick to leave despite Peri’s cheerful mood. He stared at her like a deer in the headlights as she locked the door behind the last person, and picked her way onto the bed with all the ease of a prowling cat. 

“We’re gonna do something fun, and it’ll bring out your true colors,” Peri hummed, delighted with herself, as she picked out a plate of fluffy-looking cupcakes from the large stash of food she’d had brought in. They were moist and fluffy, liberally covered in pastel pink frosting and each topped with a bright red cherry. “And I don’t wanna hear any complaining, alright? I’m gonna make you feel so special,” she giggled, pressing the first cupcake eagerly to his mouth.

Laslow was flustered and confused, but obliged and opened his mouth, biting into the baked treat without too much hesitation. He groaned at the sweet flavor of it, fingers curling just a bit into the bedsheets as he chewed and swallowed. Gods, that was good, and as soon as he’d made a noise of approval at the taste, Peri didn’t give him any time to formulate a question as to what had brought all this on. Peri watched closely as she fed him one cupcake after another, Laslow easing into the simple pace and the tasty treats quickly, her eyes glittering with excitement when she saw the flicker and sputter of what had to be magic around him.

“That’s right, just keep on enjoying those,” she crooned, letting him suck frosting off her thumb as she watched whatever spell that had been concealing his altered ears and tail shimmer away, leaving those adorable pig features out in the open now. “Aw, there’s my cute li’l piggy!”

Jolting out of the sweet distraction of cupcakes at those words, Laslow immediately tried to cover up those floppy ears with his hands, his face a brilliant red from embarrassment. “W-Wait, no, don’t–” he began to protest, but Peri quickly silenced his worries by shoving the last cupcake into his open mouth.

“I’m so mad you tried to hide something so cute from me, my little piggy!” Peri huffed, though there was a playful grin on her face as she pressed her pointer finger against his frosting smudged lips. “But, you can make it up to me, lovely. That’s what all this is for, after all! I told you I was going to make you feel special, and I will. I just need my cute pig to do what cute pigs do best~”

Struggling to chew and swallow through so much stuffed into his mouth at one time, Laslow managed out a muffled, “…And what’s that?”

Pushing him back against the headboard, and swinging a leg over his chubby belly so that she could straddle his plush hips, Peri leaned in close with a familiar, predatory smile on her face.

“Piggies eat and eat, and they just love whatever food they’re given! And I brought my piggy only the best of what I can make, so he better to his best to eat it all up!” she giggled, eyes narrowing and grin seeming sharper as she reached for a fresh plate of food.

Laslow wasn’t sure if he should be scared, embarrassed or aroused at this – being the man he was, he chose to embrace the aroused above the other two and inspect those feelings after this was all said and done.

Peri was fast and furious with her feeding, barely letting him breathe between mouthfuls. She did distract him with affection, though; kissing at his neck and chubby cheeks, teasing licks at the corner of his mouth that would only turn into a kiss if he managed to finish off what she’d given him to eat in time, sharp nails pinching and grabbing at his stomach as it steadily filled up to the brim with food. It was fascinating to watch for her, to see the soft lump of his gut turn hard and bloated as she stuffed him absolutely silly with good food. His entire face was flushed a beautiful red, his chubby body squirming on the sheets as she teased and taunted him. He made the best noises, too; breathless moans after swallowing down a large serving of food, whines and cute whimpers when she roughly pressed the heel of her palm against the stuffed bulge of his stomach. 

They were about halfway through the mountain of dishes when Laslow really started to slow up, pudgy hands rubbing carefully at his overfull tummy. There was almost no give left, just a tight, round belly gurgling away as it struggled to process the influx of food. 

“Aw, come on, we’re not done yet, sweetheart!” Peri urged, knees squeezing into his plush thighs as she grabbed onto the doughy rolls at his side and gave him a little shake. “I went though so much work to make all this for you, piggy, and I want you to eat it…”

Laslow grunted, trying to find a comfortable position, but stuck on his back from the sheer amount of food weighing his gut down as well as Peri’s deceptively strong hold on him. “B…But I don’t think I can–Mmph?!” his wheezing protest is cut off by Peri shoving more food into his face, his pig ears perking up at the force she used. 

“Ah, ah, ah…Good little piggies do as they’re told~” Peri hummed, continuing to feed him past his limits, one hand massaging and squishing at his overstuffed belly as she forced more into it with determination. 

She’d give him a good long cuddle after they were done, but only until he’d licked every plate clean and she’d busted those straining buttons off of his pants first.

[bi-bladesmith]

pre-dragonborn dlc hcs;

Absorbing a dragon soul often leaves ada in pain for the following days, her chest constricting and her jaw turning stiff

her physiology very slightly changes too, from the inside out

first, it's very minor, with her bones themselves growing denser, then the nerves in her back growing sensitive to the point where she never removes her cloak, for she can feel every slight shift in the air against the back of her skin, and her hair brushing against it itches like a million tiny chaurus scuttling over her

then it's her blood - auri notices it first, when she frees serana, a distinct smear of near translucent blue against the dead stone

she would have brought it up sooner but she didn't want to stress ada out more than she was with the whole insane vampire tyrant thing

while she's not out here sprouting scales, some patches of her skin, namely on her chest and lower back, start turning thick and leathery, eventually growing deathly pale and almost stony to the touch

when her and the gang make camp for the night, she begins sleepwalking if there's a nearby dragon nest or burial ground that she's cleared out and she'll just... stand there, watching everything in her eyeline

the gang are able to pass it off as stress and tricks of the eye, but it only gets worse after miraak's cultists land on skyrims shore

they attack her outside the college, when she's about to head in for the day

the only person who really sees it go down is faralda, since she's the one who runs down to try help ada, but ends up being the one who has to drag ada off of them, their bodies still twitching under layers of ice encasing them, their limbs breaking apart into stained shards under ada's bare hands

the whole thing really shakes both of them up, and despite agreeing to keep it quiet, faralda does advise tolfdir to keep an eye on ada, since she practices her thu'um on the roof of the college between lectures

it all comes to head when tolfdir finds her up there curled up in pain

the inside of her mouth was scalded and burnt, her sword arm broken via elemental fury and the muscles in her other arm pulled to shit after having to brace herself against one of the walkway arches after her whirlwind sprint went further than she expected

eventually she passes out from the pain and wakes up a week later to inigo and lucien carrying her up the 7000 steps before handing her over to the greybeards to take her to paarthurnax

she's at the throat of the world for at least 4 months just recovering from her injuries, and then a further 2 months studying with paarthurnax

before she leaves for solstheim, she leaves lucien behind to look after her family, in case those cultists try anything while she's busy hunting miraak

[tzalmavet]

Do you have a specific page detailing who each Groke is? I keep seeing all these characters and I dont know who is who

I don’t!  Not yet, at least.  Some of the confusion is probably because half of these grokes I’ve been posting were made up by Lee @tiamatdragongod, whom I’ve been DMing lots in the meantime.

Lee can probably tell you more about their OCs in depth, but I can cover all these grokes real quick to clear things up a bit!

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My grokes:

Mutter, the Grokemama: An enormous, ruddy-brown groke, with a tassel-like tail tuft.  Abandoned as an infant due to her father’s untimely death and her mother’s incapacity to look after her.  A lifetime of negligence and harsh survival has permanently stunted her language and coordination skills.  In a rare moment of empathy, she adopted two abandoned children, a whomper/mumrik hybrid and a snork, who grew to adulthood under her care and think of her as a mother.She actually has no name, so both of her titles are nicknames I use for clarity’s sake.  My most comprehensive post on her is here.

Ember: Mutter’s father, relatively short and a brighter red than his daughter.  Got separated from his parents when he fell off a cliff into a river, and afterwards grew cold and cynical over time.  Used to get his warmth by sitting on chimneys and sneaking into fireplaces.  Fell in love with Midnight, and proceeded to gradually lose his mind as she failed to respond to his affections.  He neglected his own health to care for her and the newborn Mutter, and died after falling into a hole full of jagged rocks.

Raven/Midnight: Mutter’s mother, huge, pitch black, broad-shouldered, and heavily scarred.  A monstrous, virtually mindless groke who’s only still alive out of luck and a long-forgotten echo of a refusal to give up.  Is even worse off than her daughter, mentally and physically.  Used to be jam-packed full of weapons people had attacked her with, until Ember pulled them all out.  Once had two siblings, but they’re both dead now.Her birth name is “Raven”, but she doesn’t remember it.  I call her “Midnight” since the girl she could’ve been is basically dead.  I’ve talked the most on Midnight and Ember’s little relationship here.

Storm: Midnight’s mother, an exceptionally tiny groke with a grey body, black points, and bright green eyes.  Named herself, and used to warm herself by attracting lightning strikes.  Met and married another groke named “Rook”, and they lived in luxury for a while since she’d stolen precious metals over the years for their electroconductive properties.  She died after complications resulting from a lightning strike, as being warm meant she was no longer immune to being hurt by them.

Rook: Midnight’s father, a stoic, rather small black groke with blue points and yellow eyes.  Used to warm himself by catching people, draining their body heat, and running off before they caught hypothermia.  Hid his anxieties behind an intimidating exterior.  He and Storm disguised themselves as non-grokes so they could enter towns without trouble.  He quickly fell apart after Storm and two of his children died, and was forced to leave baby Raven behind when the local townsfolk discovered his true nature and attacked his home.

Snowdrift: Ember’s mother, a big, fat, fluffy white groke with light grey and dark red points.  Very round, and very friendly.  Loves to smile and laugh.  Used to be an angry, sulky, dangerous person until she met her husband Timber and was warmed up.

Timber: Ember’s father, a woodsy-brown groke with a lighter-colored tummy and yellow eyes.  Used to warm himself by lingering near fires, pretending to be logs or trees, and running away if noticed.  Loves his wife, Snowdrift, and is a much happier groke because of her.  He looks shorter than her, but it’s actually her long fur making her look taller, and they’re the same size.

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And Lee’s grokes:

Grokemaiden/Grokematron: A greyish-green groke with yellow tinging the tuft or her tail, and another tuft on her head.  Has a loving, happy, highly empathetic nature.  Her parents were desperately afraid of her becoming cold, and she’s led a very sheltered life.  Upon growing up and learning of her parents’ pasts, and the plight of grokes in general, she takes the name “Grokematron” and opens an orphanage, seeking to reduce the suffering in the world.She later meets a mymble named Alois, and eventually marries her.

Thistle, a Grokepapa: Grokemaiden’s father, a huge, greenish-grey and heavily muscular groke striped with old battle scars.  Unlike most grokes, he can rarely stand to wear a dress or walk on two legs.  Has a highly wary, cautious nature, but loves his family very deeply.  He was left at an orphanage by his father shortly after being born, and proceeded to be mistreated by the staff; he eventually fled after a bullying incident led him to snap and kill the headmistress’s son.  He lived like a miserable monster for years until he met Lily, who saved him from bleeding out from a wound left by a recent attempt on his life.

Lily, a Grokemummy: Grokemaiden’s mother, a dark green groke with long, silky fur around her throat.  Named “Liliane” at birth, and had an identical twin sister named “Lunari”.  Lost her whole family to a mob that was outraged by her parents’ habit of robbing and mugging people.  She’s very gentle, and knows a lot about healing, sewing, and cooking.  She likes to be a proper lady.  She walks with a shambling gait, due to a gunshot wound to the knee that happened shortly after Grokemaiden was born.

Inigo, the Loathsome: Thistle’s father, an extremely tall, scrawny, and weak groke with rough fur and a hoarse voice.  Was dubbed “Loathsome” by his father who hated him and never wanted him.  He hates himself, and feels like everyone else hates him, too.  He’s so thin and weak because his father would scold him for “eating too much”, and he’s still reeling from the trauma of it.  He’s good at being silent, too, because his father hated him making much noise.  He was forced to abandon his son Thistle at an orphanage when his wife, Petal, died in childbirth and he was unable to feed him.

Petal: Thistle’s mother, a small, compact, pink groke with a brighter-colored tummy and a lace-edged dress.  A rather nice and perceptive woman, but didn’t take bullshit from anyone.  Was a lot stronger than she looked.  She was sometimes prone to debilitating depressive episodes.  She met her husband Inigo in a field of flowers, and adamantly refused to ever refer to him as “Loathsome”.

Leylani: Lily’s mother, who looks almost exactly like Grokematron but with longer fluff on her head and a different style of dress.  Used to warm herself by stealing lanterns and candles.  Tough and sturdy, but actually hated stealing and just wanted to live in peace and be kind.  In between thefts, she’d show affection for her daughters by sewing things for them.

Hades: Lily’s father, so dark green he’s nearly black, with neon green eyes.  A dangerous man who knew much of fighting, stealing, and killing, but loved his family more than anything.  He was mostly nonverbal.  Leylani met him when she saw him lying down half-asleep in front of a fireplace, mistook him for a weird cat, and petted him.

Gaia: Loathsome’s mother, massive, and bears a striking resemblance to her grandson, Thistle.  Good natured, impossibly strong, and boistrous.  She loved singing, swordplay, and rescuing those in need.  She’s adventurous, and strayed from her parents as a morit; she was then adopted by a kindly old mumrik.  She wanted to have a child with her husband, Leviskyr, but her large body weakened during the pregnancy, and she died from numerous complications shortly after little Inigo was born.  Her last wish was for her husband to raise him.

Leviskyr: Loathsome’s father, who looks like Loathsome, but smaller, less thin, and with more scars.  Was born into aristocracy during medieval times.  After his mother’s death, a jealous mumrik named “the Mirthful” betrayed him and drove him out of his home.  He grew up very afraid and bitter, became a monster who warmed himself by eating people while they were still warm.  He was so cold, his frozen body didn’t age.  He knew no warmth or kindness until Gaia found him.  He did a complete 180 for her, loving her completely, would do anything to make her happy.  But he turned right back into a monster once she died, utterly heartbroken.  He blames Inigo for her death, and frequently considered killing him.

Scowl: Leviskyr’s mother, very tall and albino with soft fur, a stern resting face, and a beautiful voice.  She became wealthy traveling and singing with a moomintroll she was dating, but they split up when she wanted to retire and he wanted to make it big.  She later married a groke who was a powerful military figure.  Her husband was later assassinated, and the heartbreak made her grow cold, eventually killing her and leaving her son an orphan.

++++++

And that’s all the grokes we got for now!  Tragic, ain’t they?!  I’m always up for questions about my grokes and other Moomins OCs, and if you’re curious about Lee’s grokes, you should drop them an ask, too!

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Shrinking Violet Zine hosted by the @invinciblezine! I wanted to do a piece feature the Ferox group for a while now. Now I just need to write some Basilio/Flavia and I’ll be set.

Summary: Olivia had forgotten just how much drinking was done at Ferox. Just how much booze Flavia and Basilio consumed. At least she had Lon’qu to help her deal with two drunk Khans.

…

…

…

…

There were things about Ferox that Olivia had forgotten in the years she’d spent away, things her memory had softened, but if there was one thing imprinted on her brain permanently, it was the drinking.

 Oh, the drinking. The amount of booze that flowed through the Khans’ halls on a daily basis took Chrom’s entire retinue a month to use up and then some. It was never more apparent than up here, sitting at the main dining table with Basilio, Flavia, and Lon’qu. Before them, tables upon tables of warriors drank and made merry, drunkenly getting into arm-wrestling matches and eating contests. The air smelled like it’d been perfumed in alcohol and Olivia wrinkled her nose.

Noticing her expression, Lon’qu glanced at her. “What is it?”

Despite how he’d changed over the years, his words were as curt and to the point as ever. Olivia fiddled with her bracelet awkwardly, not sure what to say. “I forgot what it’s like here,” she finally replied magnanimously.

 “Me too.” Lon’qu’s lips curved up slightly as he took in the view.

 “I’m surprised you didn’t move back,” Olivia asked. “I thought you’d come back first thing after the war.”

 Lon’qu blinked, surprised and perhaps she had been awfully forward. It wasn’t like her to ask these questions, but then again, she’d changed too. A little bolder, a little more to the point. “I did consider it.” He glanced at Basilio. “But I didn’t think I was ready to be his champion again. And besides…”

 Ah. He didn’t have to say it—she’d seen him with his wife, seen the way he looked at his child. It was the same expression she had every time she looked at Inigo, at either of them now. It was funny to see her two sons interact, to see the differences and similarities between them. Her only hope was that here baby Inigo wouldn’t grow up to be such a terrible flirt. “I get it.”

 “Get what?” Basilio asked drunkenly, clapping her hard on the back and jarring her back to where she was.

 Olivia squeaked in surprise. His hands were just as strong then as they were now and despite all of her training and reclassing, her back felt like jelly from one hit. “N-n-nothing.”

 “You can’t ask a lady like that, you big oaf!” Flavia sneered, jabbing Basilio in the side. From the discarded bottles around her, it looked like she’d had just as much to drink as he had. It wasn’t entirely a surprise, they’d always had stupid competitions that only got worse every time the Khan title changed hands. “That’s why you’re still single!”

 “Is it?” Basilio jeered, slamming his mug on the table. A strong whisky sloshed out of it, spilling onto his dinner plate. Olivia winced at the soggy food but Basilio paid it no mind. “Or is it because a certain someone refuses to say anything one way or the other?”

 Flavia’s cheeks coloured and she growled back. “It might be because a certain moron doesn’t have any tact when he asks.”

 Oh dear. Olivia held her hands up, her eyes darting from one to the other. This could get messy. “Guys? Uh…”

 “Don’t bother.” Lon’qu snorted, taking another sip from his wine glass. “This is foreplay to them.”

 Well. She couldn’t deny that. Every time they had an argument like this, the pair ended up in bed and maybe the argument was just part of the relationship. Still, whatever the case was, Olivia hoped they could do it when she wasn’t within hitting or sploshing range. “Maybe we could move it outside? The feast’s almost over after all—”

 “You’re right! We could go outside.” Basilio guffawed, wrapping a big arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “Pick up some real ladies, just the way you did last time.”

 “Huh?” Pressed against his side, Olivia stared at the hand on her shoulder and then up at him. How did she get dragged into this? And what was he even talking about? “L-last time?”

 “What was it you said again?” Basilio muttered, rubbing his chin with his free hand. Even Flavia raised a brow, curious, and maybe Olivia should just be happy that the argument was all but forgotten now. Even if it felt like everyone was staring at her. “Sweet tart?”

 “Sweet tart?” Olivia stared at him blankly. “I never—”

 And it all came rushing back to her then, of that one night she and Maribelle strolled through town boldly catcalling every gent they laid eyes on. No, to be exact, it had been several nights of them using the crudest words possible before Chrom had finally pulled them aside and told them exactly what they were saying. Olivia’s skin burned at the memory, turning a bright red. Basilio had seen that. Of all the people to catch her in the act, it had to be Basilio.

 Oh god, and if Basilio had seen that then—

 Flavia roared with laughter. “I remember that. She asked to see more leg, didn’t she?”

 Even Lon’qu chuckled, the Lon’qu-who-rarely-smiled chuckled and Basilio told everyone, hadn’t he? Olivia could never return to Ferox again. “I…I…”

 “What about it, Flavia?” Basilio grinned, a challenge in his voice. “Want to try it out? See who can pick up more people?”

 “As long as you don’t cry when I win.” Flavia cracked her knuckles and stood up. “Olivia can be the judge?”

 “Whaaaatttt?” Olivia paled but it was too late, Basilio was already dragging her with him as he stood up and exited the great hall.

 She shouldn’t have opened her mouth.