#epilogue 15

[deancasfanficrecs]

soft epilogue fics i’ve read a thousand times

(they’re post-canon but not necessarily post-season15)

1. you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester 13k. baby!jack, mechanic!dean, minor sam x eileen

2. Welcome to Pine Shores! by @andimeantittosting 20.9k. thirteen years post canon, cas and dean own a motel, minor sam x rowena and claire x kaia

3. we’ll find a new home by sleepyvan 7.8k. dean cooks a lot, bunker fic

4. all the skeletons you hide (show me yours, I’ll show you mine) by hilarycantdraw 19k. baby!jack, season 13 au, pretend relationship, mechanic!dean, librarian!cas

5. Morning Glory by edgarallanrose 25.9k. post season 12, beekeper!cas, baker!dean, contractor!dean

6. dumbassery, denial, doing (the three d's to the destination) by @sobsicles 108k. post season 15, minor sam x eileen

7. Toes In The Sand by imogenbynight - @thevioletcaptain 11k. child!jack, post-season 15, beach vacation

8. take me home by stayawake 37k. post s14e14, lake house vacation

9. the home we make together by vaudelin 48k. baby!jack, post season 15, cas and dean sharing a body, minor sam x eileen

10. Grow Something, Feed Someone, Love One Another by ahurston 9k. post season 15

11. things happen (they do, they do, and they do) by sobsicles 27.9k. cas flirting a lot, post season 15, minor sam x eileen

[pendraegon]

two by the antlers

[sabraeal]

a heart felled by you, held by you; Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2024, Day 1: Quadrille

It’s not that Suzu didn’t know Lata’s name or whatever; it’s impossible to forget when it’s stamped right across the office he refuses to use three months out of the academic year— why should I let the university know where to find me? he’d huff, stoking the forge. If they’re going to interrupt my work to harangue me about class numbers and securing grant funding, I have no interest in making it easy for them— and scrawled on every lower right corner of his notes. It’s what every colleague calls across the university atrium before he hurries to out pace the persistence hunter that is professional collaboration; and what Ryuu had tried to stutter through for a whole week when he confused formality for maturity.

But between the towering aisles of his yet-to-be-catalogued accessions, and the number of times Shirayuki— and sometimes even Suzu himself— have been left to make his excuses to professors and professionals far above their pay grade, the idea that’s he’s a noble— a capital ‘F,’ weasel-thing-rampant Forzeno— well, it doesn’t seem quite real.

Not until now, when the doors on this stately manor swing open, and—

“I thought you lived in a shithole,” Suzu blurts out, momentarily blinded by polished marble and gold filigree. He’s no expert on architecture and has only a dubious grasp on history, but even he can tell this place is old. Storied, his mental Kazaha supplies, buzzing through his thoughts like flies over an ungrammatical carcass. “Or at least, that’s what Shidan said when—”

“I said apartment.” Shidan glares at him, like it’s Suzu’s fault he spent ten highly memorable minutes complaining about the stack of specimens that almost toppled onto him that one time he tried to brave Lata’s front parlor.

“It’s a townhouse.” Lata’s all noblesse oblige now that they’re ensconced in his family’s home, acting generous and tolerant, like they’re a good friend’s dogs that he knows are going to piddle on the carpet and he’s determined to be gracious about it. The kind of patience that’s pushed out between a man’s teeth instead of welling up from some internal font of goodness or whatever. “Private land ownership is the only way to receive permission for a forge of that size. And yes, I do.”

“But why not hang out here?” Suzu peeks into one of the fancy urns lining the walkway— disappointingly empty— before letting it rock back onto its pedestal. “It’s big and fancy and there’s a bunch of people whose job is to wait on you hand and foot. I’d never leave.”

“The commute,” Obi offers, sticking his own head down some fancy pot too.  “Or maybe the wallpaper bothers him.”

“That’s certainly one way to put it,” Lata mutters, steering Obi away from the crockery with a scowl. “This is family land, owned by countless generations of Forzeno since time immemorial—”

“672.” Kazaha strides down the runner with his hands clasped behind his back, like he’s the king of the castle— or like it might convince the man who is that he’s not about to have any sticky fingers. “That’s when Motouji Forzeno ordered a fitting home to be built for him within a day’s ride of the capital, which at that point was still based in Wirant, not in Wistal. That only happened once the Wisteria family inherited the throne from a series of strategic marriages over the previous three generations—”

“And in any case, not mine.” He clears his throat, shoulders pulling straight beneath the heavy wool over his tunic, looking more lordly per inch than he ever has at the university. “At least, not in name.”

For as long as Suzu’s known him, Shidan’s never been a confrontational kind of guy; Lata might duck and dodge and, if cornered, bite and rend any interference from the university’s board, but Shidan chooses the path of least resistance. Or more accurately, the path of least surveillance— he might sit and stay and sign the papers the higher up sent his way, but as soon as they had their back turned cajoling some of the more recalcitrant academics in their department, he’d slip right off the leash, doing what needed doing before the deans were any the wiser. That’s how they’d gotten into this whole orimmallys project anyhow, and that all worked out in the end. Mostly.

So when Shidan hums, all considering— the way he does when he’s about to quibble over wording on a paper, but so nicely Suzu won’t even know he’s gotten the run-around until he’s halfway to the dorms— it’s a sign. A portent, even.

“Your father gave you lease over the entire place, didn’t he?” He’s got his gloves caught in his hand, running fingers along some fancy wainscoting. There’s some gold leaf on it, gilding a few fussy fleur-de-lis, and his fingers run slow enough that there’s got to be some grit. Dust, even. “That’s what Garrack said, at least.”

Lata’s brow sours like samples left too long on the bench. “And of course, Head Pharmacist Gazelt would be the expert on my family’s internal affairs.”

“No,” Ryuu murmurs ponderously, so soft they all hush up to hear him. “But she’d be less invested in avoiding them.”

Big blue eyes blink up at his lordship, and if they were any less guileless— or maybe, if Ryuu was any less fifteen— there’d be some sort of dust up. Some flavor of raised voices and shaking fists, and maybe someone would end up with a cold ass on the big field of snow Lata calls the front lawn. But instead he just sucks in a breath, whistling like a hole in a window when the wind’s got its back up, and says, “I thought I was being quite generous offering you all a place to ready yourselves before the gala, but now I’m quite wondering just why I extended the invitation.”

“Because you’d rather be annoyed with us than risk being left alone with one of those lords?” Suzu barely realizes he’s spoken until five sets of eyes swing his way, goggling like he’s hauled off and said something out of band. Again. “Or ladies?”

A laugh’s dour cousin scrapes out from Lata’s chest as they climb what Suzu assumes is the grand stair, if only because it’s larger than the last three. “Yes,” he agrees, more weary than waggish. “Something like that.”

“Hey.” Obi hangs back, lingering on the landing with one thumb hooked over his shoulder. “Is that you?”

There’s a portrait beside him, larger than he is— or Suzu, or Shidan, or any man he’s seen living; so big that it must have taken a whole crew of footmen to install, if only to keep one of them from being crushed under a lordly boot. He’s got to squint to see above the knee, daubs of oils glistening in the gaslight, making it hard to pick out more than the curve of thick, dark hair, or the stern, squarish set the to jaw, or—

“I gotta say,” Obi hums, arms folding over his coat. “Quail hunter isn’t what comes to mind when I look at you.”

“I’m not.” Lata paces a step back toward them, then two, glowering up at the most detailed bird carcass Suzu’s ever seen outside the ruts of a country road. “That would be my father, in his youth. He had a great love of…working his will on the world, one way or another.”

“Ah…” Kazaha sighs, searching for something properly ingratiating to say. “There’s a certain, hm, strong family resemblance.”

Suzu seizes the opportunity to inform the professor, “He means that you both look grumpy.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Right,” he agrees blithely. “It’s what you meant. Like I said.”

Lata snorts, starting back down the hall. “If you think I am ill-tempered, wait until you meet my sire. Why, I’m practically a ray of sunshine next to that old—”

“Oh, are we gonna?” Obi whips around, determined to be underfoot as he asks, “Will I finally get to meet my Knight Grandpa? Sir Grandpa—?”

“I would thank you not to call him that.  And no.” Lata’s mouth thins to a line as tight as his shoulders. “Besides, if we are to take Knight Grandpa at its most literal, it would not be my father, but instead the man who was my master as a squire.”

“Is he gonna be here? Can I meet him?” It’s not physically possible for Obi to wend himself around Lata’s legs, but by the way he bats his eyes up at him, he’s spiritually there. “I promise I’ll be a good little knight. I’ll even bow and scrape and write poetry about women lying in ponds—”

“No.” After a begrudging pause, Lata adds, “He’s dead, actually.”

Obi pops up, shoulders suddenly soldier-straight beside him. “Oh, well. That’s a pretty good excuse. Did he die from some battle wound or…?”

“The drink,” Lata confirms. “He wasn’t, honestly, a very good master. But he was a friend of my father’s. That seemed to matter more back then.”

A laugh saws out of Obi, rough enough Suzu’s surprised it doesn’t take a bit of throat with it. “Seems to matter just as much now.”

The professor doesn’t do anything so obvious as look at Obi, oh no— he just simply clasps his hands behind his back, favoring the hall in front of him with an approving nod. “Doesn’t it just.”

“You frown the same way.” Both men peer over their shoulders, but Obi makes confusion seem casual, whereas Lata just scowls. Ryuu, for his part, doesn’t seem to notice. “You and your father, I mean.”

“Yes.” Lata surveys the hallway over his shoulder before turning back around. “It runs in the family.”

A beat passes before Suzu dares to venture, “Hey, weren’t the girls supposed to get ready here too?”

“Yes.” The professor isn’t known to smile, and he certainly doesn’t now, giving them all a disapproving glare. “They arrived on time.”

*

“What if” —Shidan’s clever little botanist practically froths over the vanity like a flask left too long on the hob, spilling linen and lace where she leans— “I told him I had something in my eye.”

This is hardly the first volley of hypotheticals Garrack’s fielded from that quarter; oh no, the girls had all been down to chemises when the preliminary speculation began— what if…I said I needed some air?— and now what had already been a serviceable set of natural curves has become a feat of human engineering, bolstered by a bulwark of baleen and batiste. There’d been endless layers added on; bust improvers and corsets and girdles, all requiring additional helpful hands, and it lends a weary edge to Izuru’s, “Oh, it’s a him, now is it?”

Shidan’s long-time assistant hasn’t bothered to batten down her hatches— at least, not as much as the botanist girl’s— with only enough corsetry to turn her posture from academic to appropriate. Another assurance that she’s coming along nicely, just the way Garrack always thought she would so long as Shidan’s quiet perfectionism didn’t infest her work ethic the way his little pet project did the university’s water supply.

“What next?” It has to have been ages since there was a woman in this place— heavens know Lata isn’t bringing any inamorata around here to parade around in front of his mother’s mirror— but the painted wood Izuru slumps over is pristine. Or, well, as much as whale bone lets a body slouch.  “Identifying details? A name?”

“He’s hypothetical,” the botanist snaps, which almost guarantees that he isn’t. Too bad she hasn’t caked on the powder yet; even with the lights dimmed as they are, it’s impossible to miss the flush that creeps up her shoulders, pouring onto that pretty face. “He doesn’t exist. Yet.”

There’s quite a bit Izuru seems to have to say about that; her shoulder straighten, her mouth cants, and—

“Is that supposed to be romantic?” Shirayuki frowns into the mirror, hands swallowed up by the untameable beast that is Izuru’s hair. “Having something in your eye?”

“Well, not usually,” the botanist admits, undaunted by the sharp elbow of reality bursting her dreamy little bubble. “But an eyelash…that’s all right. Delicate even! Demure. And when he bends down, BAM.”

Shirayuki blinks. “You hit him?”

“Kiss him!” The girl slumps into a chair— despite all her scaffolding, she makes a better show of it than Izuru— heaving the most world-weary sigh. “I would kiss him, Shirayuki.”

It’s years since she’s been that diligent apprentice, quietly working under Ryuu’s precise direction, but Shirayuki still flushes as red as her hair at the barest mention of grown adults touching in any way but a professional handshake. Garrack would have thought Zen would handle that— three years is a quite a lot of time, and considering what some of her cohort got up to on these cold Lilias nights, she’d have expected the bar for blushing to be a few sexual acts higher. Under the clothes, at least.

“W-wouldn’t that be an awkward angle?” Shirayuki busies herself with Izuru’s hair, letting it twist around her hands as she pins it in place. “You m-might crash heads! And noses.”

“Fine.” The botanist flops on her chair, thoroughly put upon. “What about dropping my handkerchief? I let it flutter, just like this”— there’s no fabric in her hands, but she sticks out an elegant arm, turning away as her fingers go limp— “and when he bends to retrieve it, I—”

Garrack snorts. Not a soft one either; for as unintended as it is, it draws quite the audience. The pretty botanist included, one of her well-shaped eyebrows raised.

It’s a struggle to keep the laugh in her chest from bubbling out, making this whole situation worse. Or injure this girl’s more tender emotions, at least.“Listen, you really think a lord would stoop? For a botanist?”

“He will if he wants to be kissed!” she huffs, arms crossed. Quite a bit of lace froths out over them, like a puffed-out pigeon’s chest. “Which he will, since I’m going to be the best looking girl at this gala!”

There’s one of these girls in every cohort— a little too pretty for their own good, always thinking about which assistants they might be able to catch alone in the fourth floor stock room. Clever, of course— you don’t end up in Lilias if you’re a slouch in that department— but just a bit silly. Whimsical. Destined to be disappointed when they find out royals don’t marry researchers.

At least most royals with most researchers. It probably doesn’t help that the statistical outlier is in the room right now, sending her a long suffering look. “Yuzuri…”

“That’s no slight on the rest of you, Shirayuki,” the botanist— this Yuzuri— assures her, “I’ve just been planning for this my whole life. Or at least since I found out Wirant throws one of the Solstice things.”

“We’re supposed to be here for professional purposes,” Izuru reminds her, having worked for Shidan too long to believe in mixing work with pleasure.

“Oh, boo, Izuru!” Yuzuri straightens, bustling over to the mirror to fuss with the glossy fall of her hair,  pinning up parts of it with her fingers and frowning at the results. “Don’t be dull.”

“It’s not dull,” Shirayuki protests, placing the last pin in hopes that this time, Izuru’s hair might not simply bend the mess of them to breaking. “It’s what Shidan’s asking us to do. I’m not saying you can’t dance too, but if you’re going to be mingling with the nobles, maybe you should try to talk to some of them about what we’re doing with the Phostyrias. Just a couple of them giving permission for us to plant the bulbs would really be—”

“Oh, fine, fine.” She waves one hand— painstakingly manicured, done up in a pearly sort of polish that wouldn’t last five minutes once she was back in the greenhouse— but undeterred. “I can chat them up a little bit too. For the project.”

Tonight might be the darkest night of the year, celebrated in the coldest, most ass-end part of the whole country, but when Shirayuki smiles, Garrack might well be back in her office at Wistal, enjoying the mild summer breeze winding through her window. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”

“You better,” Yuzuri huffs, twisting her hair in her hands. “Don’t think I don’t notice that it’s the girl with a guy who’s down to kiss her anytime, any place that’s asking the rest of us to consider this a work party.”

“I…” Shirayuki sputters, and hoh, there’s that blush again, with a vengeance. “Obi wouldn’t…I mean…that’s not…”

Well, well. Looks like she’s been a little behind on current events of the frigid north. And maybe not so wrong about royals and researchers after all.

“What if I asked him off into a side corridor? Or an alcove? Maybe a balcony,” Shidan’s botanist continues, saving Shirayuki a few more stumbles. “Those always have the right ambiance. And then I ask him to check the clasp on my necklace, and—”

“At that point you might as well ask him to kiss you,” Izuru is quick to point out, stepping up to help her hold a swag of hair in place. “You’re not really being subtle.”

Yuzuri groans, pins clattering against painted wood. “But where’s the romance in that? There’s got to be some uncertainty, some risk—”

“You do know,” Garrack hums, crossing her ankles on the convenient hassock in front of her. “Shidan and I are here specifically to help keep down the kissing, don’t you?”

The girl sighs, eyes rolling in her reflection. “But you’re not really going to do anything, are you, Master Gazelt? You know how silly this whole rule is. Aren’t you just going to look the other way?”

Her mouth twitches. It would be funny to see that old goat get twisted up over some twenty-year-olds playing mother-may-I with their tonsils. “Maybe,” she allows, “if I thought it was funny enough.”

*

It hardly seems fair to say Suzu is disheveled when he hardly ever seems, well, sheveled, for lack of a better word. But with his shirt still merely half-buttoned and flyaway wisps of blond escaping their tie with every scrape of his hands over his scalp, Shidan has little else to call him.

“Is the mazurka step-step-clap-turn, or is that the redowa?” His half-coat flaps out around him as he marks out the movements— poorly, but at least recognizable, even if Shidan would be at pains to reproduce them. “Or maybe it’s the waltz? Help me, Obi,” — he seizes the knight as he slips through the door, rumpling the black wool of his coat— “I can’t remember!”

“I’ll run you through the steps before we get out there,” he promises, detaching Suzu from his lapel with more gentleness than Shidan would, under the circumstances. Suzu is a valuable member of his team, a long-time collaborator who will perform any number of demeaning tasks to see a project through, so long as he can avoid a single shred of responsibility and complain about his sorry lot the whole time, but well— even Shidan has his limits. “It’ll all come back to you once you got the band to back you up. These things always make more sense with the music.”

Suzu stares at him, utterly blank, and Obi huffs out a laugh. “Theoretical versus practical knowledge, right?”

“Oh.” Suzu endeavors to smooth back his strays, but they only pop back up in his palm’s wake. “Right. Yeah. Of course. Easy, then.”

“Right.” Obi pats his shoulder with a purposeful sort of confidence, as if he could pass it through flesh and fabric with the ease that footrot does through hoofs. “Easy.”

That is until Ryuu glances up from his book, brow furrowed in the faintest vee, and says, “If that’s the case, then how are you and Shirayuki so bad at it?”

Obi whips around, wide-eyed with betrayal. “H-hey!” he squawks. “We’ve gotten better!”

Ryuu doesn’t reply— not verbally, at least— but the look he turns to Obi is eloquent enough to speak for itself. And what it says is: not appreciably.

“Why are you even concerned about all that?” Kazaha’s costume is so crisp carpenters could use it to cut corners, cape and coat and pants and stymieing haircut all in perfect place. “It’s not as if anyone is going to ask you to dance.”

“Why not? I’m dressed all nice.” Suzu blinks down at himself, taking in the uncuffed sleeves and half-buttoned shirt and the coat canted askew on his shoulders, and adds, “Well, I will be.”

Kazaha may cluck his tongue, may shake his head hopelessly, but even still, he reaches out, straightening Suzu’s cuffs before buttoning them tight. “Because you’re a man, idiot. Girls might inquire if you’d like to take a stroll down Pavilion Street when we’re at the university, but in a ballroom, men do the asking.”

Shidan can’t say Suzu’s ever been popular with the female population, especially among the more established academics who are already well aware of his reputation as a rather acerbic eccentric, more apt to be cozened under tables or smudged with sweat and grit from Lata’s forge than doing the more respectable pastime of benchwork. But there’s always a flush of fluttering young freshmen flouncing outside the lab each year, eager to catch a glimpse of— or even speak a word or two with— the herbology department’s most striking scholar. That is, of course, until they actually talk to him.

“Really?” Spoken like a man who has had invitations hurled at his retreating back for five years running. By Kazaha’s strangled sigh, it’s clear he’s thinking the same. “I’m very pretty, though.”

“That may help with young ladies wanting to dance with you,” Kazaha informs him, pulling his lapel into a shape somewhat approaching acceptable. “But it will be expected that you approach them.”

“Oh.” It’s startling to see that sharp face turn thoughtful. “So I don’t have to do this dancing thing at all.”

“You do.” Shidan’s order scrapes out at the same time Kazaha’s does, creating an odd sort of echo before he presses on, “We’re the guests of honor at this gala. The department is expecting us to socialize with potential donors.”

“Well sure, but that doesn’t mean I gotta—”

“You will,” Shidan promises him wearily. “And you’ll have to at least pretend to like it, if you want to continue our work in the lab.”

“And not in some tiny closet,” Obi adds, brightly. “Where you’ll have to knock elbows with Kazaha just to get a beaker on the burner.”

“Well, yeah.” Suzu slumps, waving off Kazaha’s continued ministrations. It’s too late, however— he already looks respectable. Not enough to pass for a peer, but someone well on his way to professor. “But what if I just hung out along the wall instead. Then I could talk to people, and—”

“It’s rude for young men to be idling when there are eligible young ladies waiting for a partner.” Obi’s words nearly sparkle for all their polish, but he ruins the effect with one of his slant-wise grins. “Don’t worry, I told you I’d show you how to cut a rug. It’s better than getting stuck in a conversation with one of those stuffy old—”

There is a gravitas to the way the doors open in this place, a stately creak that does not imply age so much at maturity; this manor was built long before the sovereigns of Wisteria sunk their roots into Clarines’ throne, and it would last long after they were nothing more than musty portraits in halls long forgot. For as much as Lata might chafe under the weight of that history, might complain about the burden of expectation placed upon a son— the son— of Forzeno, he looks every inch the part as he steps over the threshold, trousers tailored and coast pressed within an inch of their lives, more institution than man.

“The guests are arriving,” he intones with all the cheer of a funeral bell. “Are you through with your preparations?”

“Almost!” Obi sing-songs, helping Kazaha tug the sleeves of Suzu’s jacket straight. “There, done.”

Lata surveys them with the same sharpness as he does his specimens, assessing them as if their flaws were as easily apparent as a gem’s through a loupe. With a long-suffering sigh, one pristine glove pinches at his nose, as if it might be any help at all stemming the incoming headache.

“Passable,” he grates out, stepping aside. “Now if you would follow me, I will ensure that you all make it to the hall.”

Obi’s mouth twitches, threatening a smirk. “Can’t trust us to get there on our own, eh, sir?”

“I have been an academic for nearly as long as you have been alive.” The fit of his coat already has Lata at his full height, but he lifts his chin for good measure, just to give his glare a few more momentum before it meets Obi’s grin. “And there is not a single scholar alive that can travel from one point to another in a straight line.”

Both brows raise now, scrunching the scar right to his hairline. “Not even you?”

Lata clears his throat. “If you would all come this way please. In an orderly fashion,” he adds, when Suzu traipses after him, elbows nearly colliding with Ryuu’s nose as he comes up behind. “I would prefer to avoid any accidents before we even arrive.”

Obi slinks closer, like a cat approaching a precariously placed cup. “But not after?”

A heavy sigh flares out of Lata’s nostrils. “I would prefer you not. But ‘after’ is not part of my purview.”

For all that Obi enjoys dogging the professor’s irritable heels, he makes no move to follow him. Instead, he lingers just inside the door, watching as first Suzu, then Ryuu, then Kazaha pass. Being polite, Shidan assumes at first, but then the moment for him to fall in line comes…and passes, utterly unmarked, save for the amused glance Obi turns his way, gold flaring in the lamplight.

He’s a different man than the one that appeared with the snow, all those years ago. Even more so from the boy that simply manifested in the university’s library, slotting himself between the two royal pharmacists with an ease that had Shidan squinting even then, trying to figure out how such incongruous pieces could fit. Lilias drew all types, it’s true, but even so— he’d never seen one quite like this: a knight with a thug’s scar cut into his brow, swaggering through the stacks like they were old enemies.

Don’t be fooled, Garrack had written him once, loops spiking tight with barely restrained humor. He might look a little rough-and-tumble, but that kid cleans up well.

He sees it now— the strong line of his shoulder accentuated by the cut of his coat, the belt at his waist complementing the taper of his torsi, the loose trousers that only barely obscure the acrobat’s body beneath. There’s no way to cover the scar, not even with a judicious application of pomade, but there’s no need— not when it only makes him look roguish, like a man who might sweep a girl into an alcove and teach her the sort of things proper young ladies only learned from novels. Still dangerous, but not deadly.

Worrying, really, considering. Shidan doesn’t make a habit of listening to scuttlebutt, but, well, he does have eyes of his own. And red is hard to miss. More so than the black he always finds bent beside it. “Obi, if I might have a word?”

That brow of his pitches up, amusement apparent in every angle. “You academics really will do anything to keep from having to go where you’re told.”

Shidan blinks, confused, before shaking his head. “I only thought I might remind you, that er…” There’s no delicate way to put it, not when he’s already wearing a smirk that would set every fine young lady’s fan fluttering. “That this year there is to be no Solstice kissing. By Lata’s request.”

“So I’ve heard.” Obi’s head cocks, curious, though when he takes in the emptiness of the room, the pointedness of the request…the slant his brow takes is clearly…confused. “Is there any reason you’re telling me, specifically?”

It’s a romantic sort of night, he might say, and it’s easy to forget yourself in the moment. Or maybe, you already stand so close I couldn’t fit a paper between the two of you, all it would take to close it is a well-timed trip. Or perhaps more accurately, you’ve been together so long all you need is an excuse. Trust me when I say you should take it.

But Shidan knows better than to speak, not when silence is all the more eloquent. The mind, he finds, often finds the most pressing reasons all on its own. Especially when one's thoughts never strayed too far from them anyway...

“Hey!” Obi presses a hand to the placard of his coat. “I haven’t caused trouble for years.”

It’s a feat worthy of song that Shidan keeps from reminding him of the last time him and Shirayuki rode through these gates. And yet, there’s no graceful way to admit that he hadn’t been talking about that sort of trouble anyway.

“Months, at least,” he relents, grudgingly. With a few moments of thought, he adds, “I’ve been really good this week.”

Shidan, with the patience of a saint, restricts his reply to simply, “If you’re sure.”

Obi does him the courtesy of hesitating. “Well, none of that’s been of the kissing variety, anyway. Not like any of the ladies here are going to be looking to make time with a guy like me tonight.”

He gives him another one of those charming grins, and Shidan sighs, resigning himself to an evening of being pointedly unobservant. “So you say.”

[silvermarmoset]

your tags are SO true like it was one thing to bring tennant back pre-ncuti, since the whole point of that was quite transparently to increase viewership FOR ncuti, but to be like "actually tennant!doctor gets to go have his own life and ncuti is a totally different offshoot" is like ....... well.

i'm screaming a lot in the tags but i'm guessing you meant these ones?

#honestly. horrible horrible flex to set ncuti up across from the most beloved doctor from the start?#like i (and im guessing a lot of other people!) will /always/ be drawn to 10 and feel like he's our doctor#don't set ncuti up like that!! deny us dt and MAKE US LOOK AT HIM. this is so SO weird rtd wtf did you do

because yeah. it actually makes me a bit furious because leaving a spare doctor hanging around and sending Ncuti off as a double is just handing the perfect excuse to every bigot who wants to claim that Ncuti isn't the real doctor, the real doctor is back on earth in Donna Noble's garden. Why do that? Why make it easy for fans who want to drop the show now and pretend it's always the old way, forever?

i can think of reasons for doing it this way—like i'm 95% certain this was just a convoluted way to give Donna her happy ending—but none of the possible reasons i can think of justify going about it like this. I love Ten, and Tennant, I could watch him go on adventures forever, but the point should be I DON'T GET TO because because here's A WHOLE NEW WONDERFUL DOCTOR to go on adventures with! The whole constant point in Who is that change and death DO happen, and one of the joys is grieving the old while embracing the new!

But this episode doing this weird little pivot where you can die but still live, where a separate form of you can rest* so you can go on adventures....idk what moral RTD was aiming for here but it feels like he just shot his own next era in the foot for no particular reason beyond "we love Ten" (and we do but. come on)

*(what does that even mean?? canonically we know the doctor is restless and always running into trouble so what was the point of that?? it's confirmed he's going to mars on fun little trips!! this is the same man and you gave him a tardis and apparently there's no sacrifice at all?? what is this!! why!!)

[zugmode]

one of my favorite things about studying history (and counterculture in particular) is that is keeps moving forward. every day we are a step further from the past, and every day some dirtbag kids (/pos) decide they hate some aspect of society & want to rebel against it.

that means that, one day (presumably as ye olde historian of dirtbag kids), i can write a long, needlessly detailed book on scene/emo/punk/whatever in the early digital age. i can write about myspace. 9/11 fuckstarting one of the most important movements in rock music. queer people online and whatever happened at warped tour 05/ MCR revenge tour. the burgeoning importance of online communities and how the movement of web-surfing teenagers in the early 00s shaped how we function online today. the possibilities are endless.

[legolasghosty]

let's doooooooooooo 57 please! :D

Welp, not very exciting words, but words none the less!

It was almost a full three hours later when they finally hung up the phone. Julie wasn’t exactly surprised by how long it took to explain the entire situation to all parties, but she was exhausted. The constant need to sort out who had been told what parts of the story took more power than her brain apparently had.

(Send me a number and I'll write that many words on my WIP and show you!)

[lamaenthel]

tivaevae chapter 13 without context

[writingphoenix]

Wow Birthday Whump Day 15

Here's Day 15! Finally done!!! Thank you so much to @whumperofworlds for the prompts and sorry it took me so long! I've got an epilogue coming for this too to wrap it all up nicely. Here's the masterlist for it.

Hidden injury / Outnumbered

Nathan was roused from sleep by Alex bursting into their closet with a knife. Startled, he jerked back as far as his cuffed hands would let him. Josh scrambled in front of him, blocking him from Alex.

“Be absolutely silent or I will kill you,” Alex hissed. He flicked the light switch that must have been outside the room, closed the door, and the room went pitch black. 

Nathan stayed frozen in place. There was some shuffling and then he felt a hand roughly grip his hair. He felt the cold blade of the knife press against his neck and a tug on his handcuffs. Alex quietly laughed in Nathan’s ear.

“I have the knife to his throat, Joshy. If you fight me or make any noise, he dies.”

There was absolute silence in the room. Nathan didn’t know if Alex would go through with his threat but he was willing to gamble with his own life. They stayed like that as the minutes stretched on. Nathan’s heartbeat slowed back to normal even as Alex kept the grip on his hair and the knife at his throat.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining things at first, but then the sound of voices became clearer. There were people outside the basement prison door, he could hear them. But the knife at his throat kept him from shouting out. Judging by Josh’s silence, he knew the threat worked on him too.

The doorknob rattled. Nathan held his breath and felt the knife dig in closer against his skin as Alex tensed. There were some muffled words then, with a loud crack, the door crashed open and light flooded into the dark room.

Officers in full armor stood outside, two of them holding guns aimed into the room directly at him and Alex. A third officer was holding what looked like a battering ram and that was what had destroyed the door. Josh was sitting down leaning against the side wall. Nathan wasn’t sure when he had moved there but he must have been silent when he had done it.

“Drop the knife!” one of the officers holding a gun yelled. “You’re outnumbered, the best outcome for you is to put the knife on the ground, put your hands in the air, and come with us.”

Alex didn’t move. Nathan didn’t dare breathe. Josh stared at them, watching to see what Alex would do. One of the officers took a slow step into the doorway.

“Sir, please set the knife down.”

“Don’t get any closer!” Alex said roughly. He pulled Nathan by his hair closer to himself. Nathan could feel his captor’s heart racing as he was pulled against Alex’s chest. The cop froze, then set his gun on the ground behind himself. One of the other cops behind him gently kicked it out of sight.

“Can you put the knife down if we put our guns down?” the now unarmed cop asked. 

“You first,” Alex said. Nathan held his breath again as he watched the remaining armed cops set their guns on the floor. When they were standing up again, Alex lowered his hand and let the knife hang by his side. Nathan let himself take a deep breath and relax a little bit. Alex still had his hair in a stinging grip and he was still holding the knife but it wasn’t at his throat anymore.

“I’m Officer Castro. Are any of you seriously hurt and in need of urgent medical attention?” the cop asked. Josh didn’t move. Nathan couldn’t see what Alex did but he tried to shake his own head no. He knew he wasn’t in great shape but he didn’t have an urgent injuries

“Can you set the knife on the ground? We won’t hurt you if you do,” Castro said. “If you surrender to us, we can work with you to give you a lighter sentence.”

No one moved for a minute, then two. It was silent and Nathan could swear he could hear his heart racing. Slowly, finally, Alex bent down. The knife clattered on the hard ground as he dropped it the last few inches.

“Thank you, that was good,” Officer Castro said. “Alright, can we have you step out now?” Nathan felt Alex tense behind him.

“I’m not leaving this room,” he snarled. Officer Castro only nodded calmly at his aggression.

“That’s ok, we can work with that for now. Will you let the kid go? Remember, the more you work with us, the better the chance you can escape a jail sentence. Maybe we can even avoid charges if you come with us right now.”

Slowly, Nathan felt the stinging grip in his hair loosen, then vanish. The instant he realized he was free, he dropped himself to the ground and scooted as close as he could to Josh. The handcuffs kept him several feet away but he felt safer that way. Officer Castro watched him, then looked back at Alex.

“Thank you, that was good. Do you have a key for those handcuffs? You can toss it to me, you don’t have to unlock him unless you want to,” he said. Nathan watched as Alex tossed a set of keys to the officer. He couldn’t believe Alex was just giving ground like that.

“Perfect. I think if you come with me right now, I can make sure you don’t get handcuffed. You just have to come with us willingly and not try to escape or hurt anyone. It’s the best outcome for you,” Castro said next. Nathan watched Alex for a minute, then two, three, four, and finally the man took a hesitant step towards Castro. 

“No handcuffs,” he said. “I won’t run, but no handcuffs.”

“No handcuffs,” Officer Castro said encouragingly. 

Alex took another step towards him and another and Nathan was behind him now. He watched as his captor slowly left the room and let himself be led away. Neither he or Josh dared to move.

As soon as Alex was out of sight, several other officers came into the room.

“Let’s get you guys out of here,” an officer with the name Eltim on his badge said. He had the keys Alex had thrown to Officer Castro and unlocked Nathan’s handcuffs and the shock collar around his throat.

It hardly felt real as he and Josh were led upstairs. The officers asked him questions and he answered as best as he could. Josh barely answered anything. He seemed entirely focused on staying upright.

They were led to ambulances and were separated. Nathan went through a quick check in the ambulance and then was admitted to the hospital for a more thorough investigation. He let himself tune out as they set up IV bags to rehydrate him and get some nutrients into him. He fell asleep not too long after they finished.

[haruichi-mamiya]

I'm not a huge meta head when it comes to lbc (my principle is as long as I survive longer than the enemies, I'm good w whatever) but man there really are some picturas out here that have the most beautiful art but then have the most god awful effects

[starrysharks]

when will all the spoilers be revealed? juuust wondering

when i actually make ultimate excalibur a real comic ,,,, which is gonna take A While sorry 😭

[piipaw]

I got my little nose bop wwwwwwww

[tempestclerics]

rereading tâm's character sheet. my girl is genuinely a disaster but i love her anyway

[chara16]

Drawing the epilogue for Wings Of Fire - the flames of hope. There’ll be spoilers obviously, but I can’t seem to find a button that will mark it as a spoiler (similar to discord), if there is one at all.

Reading this book was a mixture of “YESSS SCORCHING LORE” “what a disappointment, this confuses me” and nostalgia

[pesterloglog]

Gamzee Makara, John Egbert, Roxy Lalonde, Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas, Jake English, Jade Harley

Candy, page 15

GAMZEE: OoOpS mOtHeRfUcKeRs.

JOHN: oops???

ROXY: its fine gamz

ROXY: accidents happen

ROXY: um

ROXY: hey thx everyone for joining me today

ROXY: wow now that im up here its like

ROXY: idk

ROXY: i have no idea what to say

ROXY: and i guess thats cuz there IS nothing to say

ROXY: theres no words to describe how i felt about dirk strider

ROXY: and even tho he left a note that had hella words in it

ROXY: they might as well have been sayin nothing

ROXY: which is just like dirk i guess

ROXY: to leave us with a load of bullshit and no idea why he did what he did

ROXY: so im just gonna say that

ROXY: im glad that he was in my life

ROXY: and give it over to someone whos way more eloquent than me

DAVE: hey guys

DAVE: wanna apologize in advance cuz this is about to get a lil real

DAVE: realer than that three quarters of a corpse im standing about two feet from right now

DAVE: i mean i totally hate to ruin everyones mood on a day where weve gathered to think deep thoughts about how one of us just went and fucking offed themselves

DAVE: not like were gonna be stumbling through our lives constantly experiencing intrusive thoughts about this specific event or anything

DAVE: hey remember what our good pal dirk looked like with no head

DAVE: p hard to forget since getting decapitated was like his third favorite hobby

DAVE: so its not so much the body thats the problem but the sorta

DAVE: existential realization of finality i guess

DAVE: though i aint gonna lie the bodys starting to stink

DAVE: sorry all that shit i just said was a load of absolute bull meant to deflect from the fact that im pretty shook about this

DAVE: i used to do that a lot

DAVE: like basically every time i opened my mouth

DAVE: most of you know this but i had a kinda shitty childhood

DAVE: not gonna go into details but

DAVE: long story short it was technically my good ol bro-dad heres fault

DAVE: not this specific version of him

DAVE: the one i grew up with was a

DAVE: a

DAVE: he was

DAVE: he was just an absolute bastard no offense to the dead

DAVE: yeah ok sure he taught me a ton of shit that if were being generous was in theory useful

DAVE: but he didnt give a single solitary shit about raising a well adjusted kid

DAVE: or

DAVE: raising a kid in general

DAVE: i was more like his disciple

DAVE: and all that mattered was his grand design or wtf ever

DAVE: and i know dirk struggled with

DAVE: you know

DAVE: the idea that he could eventually become that kind of person

DAVE: or even worse that he was somehow cosmically fated to become that person no matter what he wanted or did to prevent it

DAVE: thats prolly how he managed to off himself in the first place considering how the mechanics of god tier works

DAVE: maybe hed been struggling with that the whole time weve been here on earth c

DAVE: who knows with him

DAVE: he was always so inside his own head i cant even imagine what insane train of thought led him to decide that this was his only option

DAVE: but i dont think hed want us beating ourselves up about it

DAVE: or torturing ourselves trying to figure out what it fucking meant

DAVE: esp jake jane and roxy

DAVE: he loved you guys and wouldnt do anything to hurt you

DAVE: well not intentionally i mean

DAVE: anyway all that shit about my bro

DAVE: im over that

DAVE: like as much as you can get over it

DAVE: theres a subconscious response to certain stimuli you cant exactly rewire

DAVE: but the conscious part of my brain is all like

DAVE: shit dude

DAVE: i feel great

DAVE: wtf is hypervigilance??

DAVE: i love being alive and having all these friends who care about me and dont beat the shit out of me every day of my life

DAVE: etc

DAVE: and part of thats cause i got to be friends with dirk

DAVE: it was great getting to know this rad version of my childhood guardian who wasnt completely batshit insane

DAVE: and like just chill with him

DAVE: shoot the shit and freestyle or debate dumb crap without it being a federal fucking issue

DAVE: and more than that he treated me like i was on the level with him

DAVE: he let me give him shit for being a pretentious blowhard every day of his life

DAVE: which i did

DAVE: but despite that i

DAVE: i looked up to him

DAVE: the way i always felt like i should have been looking up to my bro

DAVE: the way i WANTED to look up to my bro but couldnt

DAVE: dirk taught me so much shit i didnt know i needed from him

DAVE: i mean picking up dirks opinions was unavoidable if you ever hung out with him considering he never shut his fucking mouth

DAVE: but im glad he didnt

DAVE: he taught me about combat

DAVE: philosophy

DAVE: life

DAVE: and im sure had he not killed himself the literal day i was finally gonna ask him romantic advice

DAVE: he wouldve taught me about love too

DAVE: so in the end

DAVE: i really got no idea how the fuck im supposed to feel right now

DAVE: but thats probably ok right

DAVE: like its ok

DAVE: to not know how to feel when someone dies

DAVE: its ok to not have all the answers

DAVE: i wish dirk were still alive so i could tell him that

DAVE: but hes not

DAVE: so

DAVE: i guess thats all i got to say about that

ROXY: anyone else have a eulogy theyd like to give

ROXY: i think the best way we can honor dirks memory at this point

ROXY: is to spew an untold number of words into the void

ROXY: as many as we fuckin can

GAMZEE: WhAt’S uP oN tHiS mOsT rIgHtEoUs AnD fRoWnY Of DaYs My BiTcHeS. :’o(

KARKAT: OH MY GOD

KARKAT: NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY, GAMZEE.

GAMZEE: HaHaHaHa YoU sTiLl GoT iT bRoThEr.

GAMZEE: mY mOtHeRfUcKeR oF cOmEdY’s In ThA pRaYbLoCk! ThAt MiRtHfUl NoIsE yOu HoLlEr StIlL sLaPs My MaNg.

KARKAT: IT’S NOT A FUCKING JOKE.

GAMZEE: NiNjAs AnD gEnTlEhOeS!

GAMZEE: We GaThEr Up At ThIs ShRiNe Of WoRsHiP tO wHaTeVeR fAlSe IdOlS oR mEsSiAhS tHeSe HoMiEs GeT tHeIr DeVoTiOn On FoR.

GAMZEE: BuT tHaT’s Ok, BeCaUsE wE’rE mOtHeRfUcKiN uNiFiEd ToDaY, nO mAtTeR wHaT oUr BaD aNd DiFfErEnT bElIeFs SaY aT uS tO oUr PiEtY pAnS.

GAMZEE: We CoMe In CeLeBrAtIoN oF tHe LiFe! :o)

GAMZEE: aNd DeAtH. :o(

GAMZEE: Of ThE oNe AnD oNlY, a TrUlY cHoIcE pIeCe Of MaN-bItCh WhAt WhOm I hArDlY eVeR kNeW:

GAMZEE: tHe DiRkStEr.

KARKAT: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

GAMZEE: ThEn, YoU mIgHt Be Up AnD wOnDeRiNg, WhAt PlAcE hAvE i GoT aLl OrAtInG oN tHe SuBjEcT oF tHe LeGeNd Of ThIs FiNe FeLlOw?

GAMZEE: tHaT’s A gOoD qUeStIoN mY mIrThFuL bRoThErS.

GAMZEE: i MaY nOt Be AlL uP aNd LeArNeD aBoUt HiS lIfE, bUt I’vE gOt DeEp SpIrItAl CoNnEcTiOnS tO hIs DeAtH.

GAMZEE: It JuSt So HaPpEnEd ThAt FaTe BrOuGhT mE tO hIs DoOrStEp On ThE vErY dAy ThAt He WeNt AnD mOtHeRfUcKiNg ChOkEd It OfF aT tHe NeCk.

GAMZEE: oNe Of ThE mOsT sPiRiTuAlLy AwAkEnInG mOmEnTs In My LiFe...

GAMZEE: In SuCh A sHoRt TiMe He TaUgHt Me So MuCh.

GAMZEE: ThIs WaS nO cOiNcIdEnCe. It WaS a HiGhEr PoWeR gUiDiNg My PaTh.

GAMZEE: tHeSe PoWeRs MaDe SuRe ThAt I wOuLd Be ThErE, tO rEcEiVe A gReAt WaRrIoR’s FiNaL mEsSaGe, AnD rElAy It To YoU oN tHiS dArK aNd DrEaRy DaY oF dEaTh.

GAMZEE: HoNk!

GAMZEE: AwWw, ShIzZ. i GuEsS i’Ve GoT tO uP aNd WiNg It!

GAMZEE: YoU eVeR wAkE uP aNd SiT dOwN tO dRoP a FaT oNe In ThE lOaD gApEr, BuT yOuR fLeSh BoDy JuSt AiN’t ReAdY tO gO aNd DoOk It OuT yEt?

GAMZEE: tHaT’s WhAt LiFe WaS lIkE fOr ThE d-MaN.

GAMZEE: A mAn BoRn WiTh A pUrPoSe. A pLaN.

GAMZEE: bUt ThE wIcKeD wAyS oF tHiS wOrLd StOlE tHaT aWaY fRoM hIm...

ROXY: WOW WASNT THAT GREAT FOLKS!

ROXY: WOW JUST WOW I KNEW THIS GUY WOULDNT LET US DOWN

ROXY: BRAVO!!! DAMN I FEEL LIKE IF I NEVER HEARD ANOTHER WORD THIS GUY EVER SAID THATD BE FINE BECAUSE THAT WAS ALL JUST SO *PERFECT*

ROXY: ANYTHING MORE WOULD ONLY DAMPEN THIS PERFECT MEMORY HE GAVE US!

ROXY: TAKE A BOW GAMZEE AND THEN OH YEAH THE EXITS THAT WAY!

GAMZEE: hOoOoOoOoOnK.

ROXY: (hey dude can u get up there and say somethin as like...)

ROXY: (a palate cleanser?)

JAKE: Gulp! Uh...

ROXY: (he was your best bro! come on man surely u got somethin in ur heart to say)

JAKE: Oh... Okay.

ROXY: hay everybody its jakes turn!

ROXY: hes got a few words hed like to say about our dear departed buddy

JOHN: (oh for fuck’s sake.)

JOHN: uhh, hi guys!

DAVE: hey

KARKAT: I SEE THAT EVEN YOU COULDN’T BEAR GAMZEE’S ASININE, BRUTAL AND 100% NONCONSENSUAL ASSAULT ON YOUR LISTEN CRATERS, AND ALSO THE BASIC DECENCY WHICH SAPIENT BEINGS APPARENTLY OWE TO ONE ANOTHER ON THIS PLANET.

JOHN: no, um, actually i listened to the entire thing.

JOHN: i have no idea why i did that. now i have this whole memory in my head that i could have definitely lived without.

JOHN: i was just worried... because you didn’t come back.

JOHN: dave, are you ok?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: well no

DAVE: but its ok to not be ok about this specific thing i think

DAVE: so for once i think im having like

DAVE: a totally unironically normal emotional reaction to a thing

DAVE: which loops around back to being ok

DAVE: in fact im probs the okayest ive ever been objectively

JOHN: are you SURE?

KARKAT: THAT WAS HALF A HUNDRED WORDS TO EXPRESS A THREE LETTER SENTIMENT.

KARKAT: I’D SAY HE’S DOING FINE.

JOHN: hmm.

JOHN: because i was thinking...

JOHN: do you... want me to go back?

DAVE: go

DAVE: back??

JOHN: with my retcon powers.

JOHN: i could go back and stop him.

DAVE: dude

KARKAT: JOHN!

JOHN: what!

KARKAT: DO YOU NOT HAVE AN INCH OF GODDAMN SENSE IN THAT THICK FUCKING SKULL OF YOURS?

JOHN: what!!!

DAVE: john

DAVE: come on what are my powers

JOHN: ummm... time travel?

DAVE: so you dont think i wouldve already done that if i thought it was a good idea

JOHN: well ok yeah, obviously.

JOHN: but if you DID do it we wouldn’t even know right now because it would’ve just made a new timeline where dirk didn’t kill himself. that’s how time travel works, right?

DAVE: ehhh well actually

JOHN: but!

JOHN: if i retcon it...

JOHN: then it’s like it never even happened!

JOHN: we wouldn’t have had this horrible funeral at all.

DAVE: i dunno dude thats

DAVE: a little fucked up actually

JOHN: you think so?

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: dirk was a complicated guy

DAVE: dude obviously had reasons for doing what he did

DAVE: if you go back and just rewrite his decision

DAVE: thats like denying him his personal autonomy

JOHN: huh. i... didn’t think about it that way.

JADE: dave!!! roxys wondering where you are

DAVE: oh yeah be right there

JADE: what about you karkat? you coming??

KARKAT: YES! GOD!

KARKAT: CAN’T A MAN STAND ON A MOIST AND DREARY PIECE OF RELIGIOUS PROPERTY TO HELP CONSOLE HIS MAIN BRO?!

KARKAT: JESUS FUCK, GOD FORBID WE UPSET THE CAREFULLY ORCHESTRATED FUNERAL PROGRAMMING WHICH JUST FEATURED A SEGMENT WHEREIN A DEEPLY UNPOPULAR CLOWN PISSED HIMSELF IN FRONT OF THE CLAMORING PAPARAZZI!

JADE: oh lord... you dumb baby

JADE: karkat it looks to ME like youre the one third wheeling dave and johns poignant brotimes

JADE: so why dont you get your butt on over here???

KARKAT: ARGH... FINE!

DAVE: john

DAVE: i get what you were trying to do

DAVE: but

DAVE: its ok dude

DAVE: im ok

JOHN: that’s weird...

JOHN: it was working just the other day.

ROXY: lmao john its just me

ROXY: doin ok up there b?

JOHN: i’m fine!!!

JOHN: wait. b?

ROXY: yea like short for babe

ROXY: cuz ur my babe b

JOHN: oh, haha. right.

ROXY: is dave ok?

JOHN: yeah, i guess.

JOHN: ...

JOHN: are YOU okay?

ROXY: yea

ROXY: yea

ROXY: actually

ROXY: im more than ok

ROXY: cause ive been thinking

JOHN: oh?

ROXY: about you n me

ROXY: and this

ROXY: hey john

ROXY: we should get hitched

JOHN: ummmmmm...

JOHN: um...

JOHN: ...what???

ROXY: um what WHAT?

ROXY: john cmon

ROXY: marry me

JOHN: like...

JOHN: right NOW?

ROXY: lmao totes

ROXY: were already at the church n everything

JOHN: o-oh my god.

JOHN: oh my god!

ROXY: john

JOHN: oh my god, are you serious??

ROXY: no LOL

ROXY: john u take everything so literally

ROXY: its fuckin adorbs

JOHN: is that... why you want to marry me?

ROXY: yea

ROXY: im off the charts with all my jokes n shit

ROXY: and i gotta even all that out

ROXY: with this like HUGE helping of clueless nerd :)

JOHN: roxy...

ROXY: ok but lets be serious here moment

ROXY: i actually do love that youre so earnest

ROXY: its cute as fuck and also

ROXY: i always know where i stand with you

JOHN: roxy...

ROXY: sides this whole

ROXY: THING with dirk

ROXY: its made me realize that even though were immortal

ROXY: were not necessarily gonna live forever

ROXY: lifes too short not to spend every moment with the one u love

JOHN: you...

JOHN: LOVE me??

ROXY: yea john i love you

ROXY: wanna marry u and spend the rest of my life with u and pop out a bunch of cute lil buck toothed babies with you

JOHN: oh, uh. haha, wow. roxy that’s um.

JOHN: that’s a LOT.

ROXY: well you dont gotta answer rn

ROXY: just know its on the table

JOHN: i...

JOHN: i...

JOHN: ok.

JOHN: ok, let’s... let’s do it!

ROXY: ooo u want to do it??

JOHN: yeah!

JOHN: er... i mean...

JOHN: um, yeah. that too.

JOHN: but i meant...

JOHN: about the getting married thing.

JOHN: let’s... do that!

JOHN: let’s totally get married!!

ROXY: omg

ROXY: were gonna be SO freakin happy!

[welcometoteyvat]

rant ahead lmao

i believe your gripes are completely valid because i have the same gripes. it feels like their storytelling (for the entire game) is all over the place. the high cloud quintet is literally something i’ve never chanced upon in the game. i only know it via fandom. this is similar to how that pyro butterfly lady is the crimson witch. only those who dig deep enough into the game will find out about it, and just like genshin, such “information” spreads quickly in the community.

HOWEVER, what genshin does better than star rail is that its main story DOES NOT rely on these snippets to tell its story. do i need to know she was the crimson witch when what happened to her happened? no. not at all. she was there for X purpose in the main storyline and therefore she did what she had to do and left. her being crimson witch was to add depth to her character which the main story had no space to do so.

stair rail, on the other hand, EXPECTS you to find out all these little tidbits, which to me is too time consuming and annoying. why split the story into its separate segments if i need to know them in order to understand the main story?? that’s just poor storytelling imho.

i think you’ll like this video. i agree with it. i get that the funeral for fox character was supposed to be emotional, but this video is right that we know NOTHING about this character. from my own personal experience, the funeral was so boring and honestly irritating because i. don’t. care. in fact, i didn’t even know she was with us throughout the quest so when she had her background voicelines i was always so confused????

i feel the hype around the characters is because the designs of each character have given people a desire to seek more about said characters, and there is abundance information. but this shouldn’t be something to expect of the players.

give me a reason to care that’s not just aesthetics, please.

video will be sent in next ask.

video: https://youtu.be/vaPL0UZK_HQ?si=puvssJPBLc2H57vk

ok thank you for validating me LMAO i was constantly wondering "where is the ancient dead people lore" (hcq) during the entire quest chain, which unfortunately contained very little of what fandom promised me (character depth). apparently i've not be reading enough books and pamphlets you can collect since the lore is concentrated there and in limited character's character stories

tbh I think the reveal that La Signora was the Crimson Witch was also really bad lol, for the same reason that the video argues DH IL's transformation is unimpactful. like "omg wow alternate identity revealed!" but it doesn't really have any impact on the conflict of the story we're currently looking at. they could've just switched it, or not even given her a transformation, instead just showing an extended duel with us and making it visible that she was tired and out of power before she dies, and I don't really know if anything would've changed. same with dan heng IL, I'd probably get more out of it if I read the hcq book from that one opera performer, but ehh there wasn't enough visibly shown leadup, like you said.

I guess the difference between genshin world lore (things in artifacts, weapons, books, world quests etc) and star rail lore is that genshin's is either about the past or future, but not necessarily about the present characters? thinking about the pale flame lore, which gave everyone the fatui crumbs before scara and la signora's stories were introducted in the main storyline, the enkanomiya quests about the vishaps and ancient history of teyvat, and the narzissenkreuz quests that also connect to that + khaenriah + a host of other world lore things. I guess it's nice that reading through all the materials isn't "mandatory" because it's either about the ancient past, dead npcs (so many of the artifact sets) or foreshadowing for important elements in the future that will still get introduced in the main story. I will be biased and agree w you, star rail's lore crumbs are rather :\ storytelling. like I would be fine if the hidden nuggets of lore were about >npcs >lore that happened but is not directly relevant to a character's main arc >foreshadowing for future events/story. but instead it's more like mandatory background reading that is crucial to understand a character's stories, instead of enriching your knowledge of them? anyways yeah

now abt tingyun. I agree that the funeral was really ???????????? i agree w you and the video lol. playing it, I was mostly in disbelief that we're assuming tingyun is legitimately dead even though she's still playable (no dead playables in genshin moment). I also think the thing with the 3 npcs we had to talk to was bullshit because. like the video said, we could've spent time with tingyun (maybe visiting the npcs we collected things from) BEFORE she died and maybe it would have given us more emotional impact. the way they retroactively show how kind and generous she was really put me off, we could've seen this all in person instead of hearing it from other people...... bruh also the way everyone got together in that cutscene when i dont think any of them were really shown to have a deep connection w her is so ..... >_> the emotional impact did not hit whatsoever

but I'm gonna level with you I think they made her role as our guide pretty clear and the implication that she was traveling with us was also pretty clear. no shade though

about the rest of the video: oh he put things into words that I could not articulate JSDKLFJDSKL. not really any thoughts but i agree that a lot of the characters (qingque, xueyi especially) could have just been cut T_T i like both of their designs and personalities based on other material in game but their main quest participation was Not It rip. also agree about the characters being vehicles for exposition and not having their personalities shine through. I'd argue maybe you can tell somewhat of what they're like (jing yuan, fu xuan, yanqing to some extent) but man there's just too much lore explaining for them to really show what they do on a normal schedule it's so .......... also because fanart and fanfic makes them seem so fun im standing here looking at the main plot like >_> <_< what was that. i'm sure it gets better inside their own companion quests, which I haven't done, but that shouldn't be the only place the character gets to really shine lmao

I agree that their design makes people more willing to invest but god I'm so sorry hsr designs really aren't my thing, the color palettes are just incredibly bad JDKSFLJDSKLGHKDJ the only thing holding up the story are the plot and personalities of chars and neither of those were delivered ...

[cerysdelaney]

Under Dreaming is Complete.

Thank you to everyone who is still around to enjoy the ending. It was my first fic and it feels good to finally say it is complete.

Enjoy the Epilogue. It’s sweet and spicy.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775452/chapters/130436278

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